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Mr. Werner was sure that Samuel had plenty of good reasons to avoid joining the track team, but that didn't make his rejections any less frustrating.

Plenty of athletes decided to specialize in one sport and focus on it after a certain point in their lives: it just wasn't realistic for someone in college to play four sports at once, and even two at the same time was more of a time commitment than the average student could manage. Samuel decided to keep his focus on volleyball, but the husky was well aware that other teams on campus were interested in his services, if only for his natural, athletic talent.

Mr. Werner was sure that he could find a way to use Samuel's abilities, if he could only get the young canine to agree to trying out for the team; that part was the grand struggle of it.

"Bradley, do you mind stepping into my office?"

At the back of the locker room was a small, windowed cubicle for the longtime track-and-field coach, with drab, gray wells that were decorated with numerous awards for the success of his team. His own trophies and ribbons from his playing days still adorned his desk, but the pace of new accolades was slowing as he lost athletes to other programs.

For whatever reason, track-and-field was losing its appeal, and as much as the coach knew it, he couldn't prevent himself from making some less than savory decisions to try and sway incoming students back into the fold.

"Yeah, coach?"

"You're roommates with Samuel, right?"

Competition was still in the nature of plenty of former players, but Mr. Werner took that personality trait to dangerous extremes when it came to recruiting players.

He had to be cutthroat to steal them away from other programs, but unlike others in a similar situation, he cared more about the trophies to be won than the job to be lost.

"Yeah, we room together. What's up?"

Bradley had spent plenty of time in the office before; he simply expected everything to look the same every time he stepped inside, but he quickly took notice of the small, glass vial on Mr. Werner's desk.

"We need warm bodies, Brad...younger athletes that can still be molded. Samuel is short, but that boy has talent coming out of his ears, and he's wasting it on volleyball."

"He's pretty happy out there on the court, sir."

"He'd be happier on the track, if he'd ever give it a second thought."

Bradly knew that his coach had an eye for talent, but he'd never seen Mr. Werner go after one athlete so aggressively before. Even though Samuel was established as the libero for the campus volleyball team, the older canine was convinced that he could turn the young husky into the secret weapon that would finally take their team to the next level.

The darkness of competition was perfectly captured in the thick, black liquid that swirled in the vial as Mr. Werner rested a fingertip on it.

"I...I mean, I can try to recruit him again if you want," Bradley offered. "He was pretty clear about his answer last time, though."

"So you told me," the coach replied. "But I think that maybe, he just needs a little more convincing...a different kind of convincing, if you will."

The German Shepherd lifted the vial and handed it up to Bradley. "What exactly will this do for him, coach?"

"Actually, that's for you ," he explained. "It's a little something to give you a competitive edge at the next meet."

Holding the vial in his palm, Bradley did his best to keep his nerves in check. His digits were trembling around the mysterious vial, but it was less an act of fear, and more of disbelief that his coach would encourage him to do something so underhanded.

"Coach, even if I did want something like this, I wouldn't be dumb enough to use it," the tiger explained. "I don't see how getting myself disqualified is gonna do anything for the team."

"It's all natural," Mr. Werner quickly added. "The extract you're holding was taken from a Sharinga tree...it imitates the effect of growth hormones without directly adding them to your bloodstream. As a result, it's virtually undetectable on any tests that are out there."

He could see that Bradley was still struggling with the direction of his moral compass, but the fact that he had the tiger even _considering_the act was what he wanted to see.

"Trust me," the coach continued. "I know you've been struggling to break your own record since your freshman season, and with this...there's no way you won't add at least a couple feet to that number."

Mr. Werner was a great coach, in that he knew how to get the most out of his athletes, no matter what personal struggles they were enduring.

He was also a wonderful manipulator, and knew just what to say to make someone see things from his perspective, instead of their own.

"And it's really natural?" Bradley asked. He held the tiny vial in front of his face, doubting everything the coach had told him about it. "Just extract from a tree?"

"Just extract from a tree," the coach echoed. "This stuff is gonna be on the shelves everywhere in no time, and there's no rules against using it. I'd be an idiot if I thought it wise to cheat my own guys out of a fair advantage."

Something about the whole arrangement felt off, even then, but Bradley was still just a college student; the moral implications of his accepting the vial fell behind the importance of getting back to his apartment to get ready for a long, brazen weekend of partying.

"I guess it's your head before mine," Bradly did his best to shrug off the odd feelings he held about the vial as he stuffed it in his pocket. "So I just drink the stuff?"

"It's that easy," Mr. Werner confirmed. "Take it when you get home; the sooner it sets in, the sooner you'll start seeing that discus fly further than you ever thought it could."

In track and field, records were broken by such small margins that it wasn't feet, but inches that Bradley would have been excited to see. That his coach was promising him something many times over that was every bit as thrilling as it was concerning, but he'd known the man even before the university accepted him: he'd never known the canine to steer him wrong.

"If all it takes to get one of these is recruiting a few people, I sure hope you've got a steady supply," Bradley said. "I know the strongest, fastest dudes on campus...I'll get them in here."

"That's what I like to hear," Mr. Werner confirmed. "You have a good evening, Brad. I'll see you tomorrow."

How the coach could be so confident in a new product bewildered the tiger, but dinner was calling his name in a voice that easily drowned out the tiny, quiet voice of reason that told him not to drink the vial.

Bradley just hoped that it would pair well with a bowl of instant noodles.

**

Cats and dogs weren't famous for getting along so well, but Samuel and Bradley made things work just fine between them.

So many college friendships were strained when it came to trying to live together, but when they finally made it to their status as upperclassmen, the mixed pair couldn't wait to get one of the larger apartments together. As friends, they knew each other well enough to respect personal boundaries, and where Samuel preferred a quiet evening in his bedroom, Bradley was fine granting him that personal space to throw a party in the kitchen and the living room.

The party was planned for the weekend, but Bradley was still eager to turn his music up and stomp his way around the kitchen, just because he could. He didn't even announce his presence when he came home: he knew that the sound of the microwave running and the television kicking on would do that for him.

He was eager to kick back on the couch and relax after a long day, but before he completely vegged out in front of the set, he popped the top on the vial and swallowed back his nerves.

"If it works as well as he says...just ignore the taste and pour it on down the hatch," he encouraged himself through the whole act, going as far as pinching his own nose before he titled the vial over his tongue.

He knew he should have taken it like a shot of alcohol, but curiosity got the better of him as a bitter, earthy flavor coated the inside of his mouth and slowly glugged into his throat.

"B...better work fast, too...for tasting like that..."

Bradley smacked his lips to try and rid himself of the flavor. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and opened it so fast that he spilled half of it on his own shirt, but he couldn't fight the urgency; his throat was so heavily coated with the substance that he felt like he was choking, and guzzling down the bottle didn't help him in the slightest.

If anything, it only helped spread the thick, viscous material around, until a trickle of it spilled over the corner of his muzzle and trickled down to the underside of his chin.

"Is that...s-spreading?"

Against the brazen, red follicles of his fur, the trail of black could have easily been one of his usual stripes, but the slashes that crossed his body were made in a pattern. The goo that poured from the side of his mouth was already spreading in a haphazard mess, but it was thin and fluid enough that it was able to coat his whole muzzle in a matter of seconds.

The lively material began crawling down the sides of his neck and coating his throat right as the door to his apartment opened: Samuel hadn't been home in the first place.

"The microwave is beeping," Samuel offered a less than conventional greeting as he looked across the kitchen. Steam was already seeping from the microwave, but in front of it, he could see Bradley struggling with something on his face: at first, it looked as though the tiger was just trying to wipe some snot away from his nose. "You, uh...you gonna take your food out?"

Facing away from their front door, Bradley was worried what Samuel's reaction might be when he looked the other way, but hesitation paid off as the husky just rolled his eyes at his roommate's confusing antics and walked past the kitchen. His room was down the hall to one side, and the rustle of plastic bags revealed that he'd splurged on dinner that night, rather than taking the time to cook.

The same sensation of something like a thin layer of film, akin to a plastic bag, was rolling down Bradley's chest and coating his shoulders. Wherever it went, he felt an odd slickness that betrayed the soft fur just beneath it, so much so that he could rest his palm against his own chest.

After lifting his shirt, however, the ooze had reached his fingertips...and brushing the material against itself generated a quiet squick , as if he were grinding rubber against itself.

"That...t-that can't be good."

Holding his paw up in front of his face and admiring the streams of thin, black membrane, Bradley couldn't help tilting his head. His eyes were sure that they saw twelve clawtips clicking together, but closing his paw back into a fist reduced the number back to four...save for the fact that he had three fists.

He'd never gotten drunk so fast in his life, but there was no alcohol in the harsh, lingering aftertaste that painted his tongue.

"Gotta s-show this to Samuel," he told himself. Even then, he was tripping on his words and stumbling out of the kitchen as he moved, until he finally gave up and decided to lean on the walls on the way there. "He'll know what to do!"

Showing wouldn't be the right word to describe Bradley's actions, especially when he tripped through the partially closed door and fell right into the husky's bedroom. "Dude, Samuel! You...you gotta see this, man."

He already sounded like he'd been pounding brews for a few hours, and Samuel was familiar enough with that behavior to prepare for it...but not on a Wednesday.

"Hitting the bottle a little early, aren't we?" Samuel asked, without even looking up from his game. "Don't you have class tomorrow?"

"I do! I...t-totally do," Bradley admitted. The way he struggled through his words left Samuel rolling his eyes, but those same orbs grew wide when they finally turned and caught a glimpse of what Bradley had become. "But you need to see this. Seriously."

It was hard enough for Bradley to focus on his friend, but in return, Samuel couldn't look at the tiger without tilting his head in complete wonder. "Did you...did you jump into a vat of oil or something? Oh, d-dude, is that getting in the carpet?!"

Bradley snickered. It was just like Samuel to freak out about the little things before focusing on the bigger picture, but with a few more seconds of clarity, the husky realized he should have been worried about his friend, too.

"I dunno, is it?" the tiger answered. "This whole thing is new to me, too!"

Words became rattled with fear as Samuel dropped his controller. "What did you even do? What the hell is all this stuff?"

"Tree extract."

"That is not tree extract and you damn well know it!"

"I, uh...I actually don't know that."

Groaning at how careless Bradley could be when he was literally melting into the carpet, Samuel tried to keep his mind cemented in reality, but he couldn't fathom how the unusual sight before his eyes was even remotely possible. Shimmering ooze of black was pouring down from his headfur and coating his entire body, from the tips of his sharp, feline ears to the deadly claws that curled around the ends of his toes... nothing was spared the encompassing treatment.

Samuel could already see that was to be his fate, even before Bradley stumbled the rest of the way in the room and landed on his jeans.

"Oooh, come on! That's my favorite pair of pants, dude!" Samuel protested, but his grasp on reality was completely lost as the inky tiger splattered over his lower half...and began spreading up his hips. "What the fuck...B...Bradley, are you...a-are you dead?"

There wasn't enough time to gather all the answers, and Bradley, in that moment, couldn't answer him. The darkness that coated his body was capable of a great many things, not the least of which was giving the tiger a chance to be closer to his roommate than he'd ever been.

Thick, warm ooze crawled over Samuel with enough weight to keep him from getting away: the husky pushed over his chair and tried to fall backwards, but as soon as his backside hit the carpet, he was trapped against the floor by the impressive pace of the crawling mass.

Whatever it was, it had taken Bradley, and it was coming for him, next...it would not be denied.

"He's breathing, no; it's breathing? I can't even tell...w-what the hell did you get all over yourself, Brad?"

Samuel was desperate for answers, but not so much that he'd actually reach out and try to physically help his friend.

Ever the social aggressor, Bradley took it upon himself to put that new form to work, as the ooze bolted across the floor and encompassed Samuel's leg.

"Oh shi-

Tendrils of dark, thick goop shot up from there and surrounded the short husky, completely encasing his lower half in the mysterious substance before the stretchy, pliable mass rose up and overshadowed him.

Like a tourist that was tricked by the lull of the ocean, Samuel was looking up into the rolling wave of ooze with terror in his eyes. He wasn't able to finish his curse before the uncanny mess splashed down over his open muzzle and spread over his tongue, and with the substance traveling down into his throat, any further sounds of panic were muffled before they could start.

The poor canine was utterly coated in whatever his roommate had become, but Samuel could still think and breathe...he wasn't aware that Bradley was still doing the same.

_Am I gonna drown? Am I really gonna die like this?_Samuel thought. His words couldn't pierce the thick coating that continued to drip and drizzle from his extremities, but under the weight of what Bradley had become, Samuel could already feel himself shrinking.

He would have been sure that he was melting...if he felt any pain from the process.

So, coach wants somebody slim and quick...Samuel is already pretty quick, but I bet he'd be even faster if I made a few modifications!

The sloppy, drunken feeling that came along with consuming the tree extract was starting to fade from Bradley, who found that aloof nature replaced with something more driven and determined. His body still hadn't properly reformed, but as he felt Samuel changing under the fluid motion of his weight, he began pouring from the husky and dropping back to the floor with new expectations.

He wanted to get a look at his handiwork, and while he was wrapped around the husky so intimately, he couldn't properly see what he was doing.

And one last little change for grins...maybe this will make Samuel lighten up for once!

Excess spit sprayed from Samuel's throat as he found the purchase to breathe properly once again. Hacking up a lung and clutching his own throat, the husky made sure to collect himself before he unleashed a verbal barrage on Bradley; the horror that he once felt wasn't enough to overwhelm his frustration when he saw the gooey substance standing upright and revealing the form of his roommate once more.

"Do...d-do you have any idea how stupid that was? You could have killed me!"

Rage laced every word, but something softer and lighter than that followed Samuel's voice through his muzzle. His tone, no matter how natural he kept it, was so much higher than he intended it to be...and only after he spoke did he noticed how odd his tongue felt against the roof of his mouth.

It was coated with tiny, but entirely noticeable spines.

"And yet, you seem fine to me," Bradley countered. " Damn fine, at that...and you're not even done changing yet!"

Some of the ooze that was left behind lingered on Samuel's body and covered up the remnants of a transformation that began while they were bonded. The clinging slime tore away more than the loose, comfortable clothing that Samuel wore: his long, thick fur had been stripped down to shorter, brushier follicles, and the width of biceps and forearms that were perfect for volleyball had been dramatically reduced.

With a mortified, silent whimper, Samuel held a paw up in front of his face and watched the natural pattern of his canine fur continue to fade under the growing veneer of dusty gold and round, black spots. He didn't know if he had the stomach to turn his gaze down past his shortened muzzle, but he treated it like a bandage...and ripped it off before he was ready.

"Wha...where...w-where's my dick, Brad?!"

The bumps that were forming on his chest were still small enough that he overlooked them, but as they swelled, Samuel came to find they wouldn't get much larger: it wouldn't benefit his body the way that Mr. Werner intended.

"It's still there! K...kinda," Bradley tried to explain. "I mean, your clit is kinda huge right now, but once that swelling goes down, I guess that's what you've got left of it?"

Under the guise of the slime, testicles receded and the taut, thin flesh of his sack had parted as his genitals changed completely. Thin, tender petals were still coming together, but their shape was already obvious to Bradley, who was admiring the naked feline in front of him without an ounce of shame for what he'd done.

If anything, his own loss of clothing made it obvious how much he was enjoying the show, and beyond his usual, introverted nature, Samuel felt an immediate fluster at the sight of the tiger's cock twitching awake so rapidly.

"Are you seriously getting turned on by this?" Samuel groaned, trying to keep up with the unstoppable head rush and the emotional rollercoaster that immediately followed it. "Dude, you...y-you turned me into a chick, and the first thing you think to do isn't call for help, or get me a doctor..."

"Are you honestly that surprised?"

Samuel sighed. "Well, knowing you, no...but if you really think I'm gonna fuck you after what you just did-

Her voice was settling into a natural, higher pitch as she lost the ability to use it, for just a moment; the last side effect of the extract was taking effect on her, and it was already coursing through Bradley, providing him with such a stiff erection that it was simply uncomfortable.

Samuel couldn't find the words to describe her first bout of arousal, or how to explain that it felt like she was drowning from the inside as fresh moisture beaded up against her newly made folds. She couldn't even begin to fathom the fact that she's just been changed from a male husky to a female cheetah in the span of just a few minutes...comprehending the overwhelming lust that followed was nearly impossible.

Actually resisting those urges was impossible, as Bradley quickly demonstrated.

"_Pfft..._not a chance," Bradley claimed. "I don't have a rubber and that's way too risky...but I could really go for a blowjob, if you're interested...?"

The cheetah rolled her eyes. "Such a romantic proposal...if not for the fact that I'm dripping wet and I can't figure out why, I dunno how I'd ever resist you coming onto me like that!"

Bradley thought to make a jab about how the transformation was already giving Samuel more of an outgoing personality, but given the attitude that she now had along with it, he thought better of looking a gift horse in the mouth.

After all, he could already see her tongue starting to peer over the edge of her lower lip as new, twinkling eyes admired his impressive length and the unusual shimmer that was left behind on it, courtesy of the extract.

"Not like I won't return the favor," Bradley offered. He slumped right down to the floor and went flat on his back, knowing that Samuel would get the point. "Bet you've never gotten a muzzle ride before, have you?"

"Never had a pussy before, either," Samuel muttered, "But I guess this is an evening of firsts for me..."

She knew that she was just overwhelmed by whatever the extract had done to her, but having that knowledge wasn't enough to stop it from dictating her actions, as she moved clumsily to straddle Bradley's face.

There was going to be an adjustment period later on, judging by the narrow, inward steps of her new footpaws...but both felines had decided that now was not the time to worry about that.

"Same here," Bradley admitted. "I've never banged one of my roommates, before..."

"You're not gonna tonight, either," Samuel reminded him. Her lips took a half smirk at that, but they spread open in a brief, quiet gasp as the tiger went right to work, drawing his tongue across the narrow, virgin part of her folds. "Oh, o-oh..._wow..._so that's w-what it's like...?"

One part of Bradley was honestly curious at the sensations that Samuel felt, but seeing her first reaction to being transformed in the first place, he was glad the ooze allowed him to keep his original body.

Whatever there was on the other side of the fence, the tiger was happy to feel warm, soothing lips around the tip of his cock once more, and the curious flicker of a tongue against the underside as Samuel did her best imitation of someone who was experienced at the act.

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to take the whole thing, she wrapped one of her slimmer, daintier paws around the base of the rod and held it steady, fearful that she might end up going too far if the extract ever took full control of her mind.

I should really be questioning this more than I am,_she thought. _I should really be angrier at Brad for doing this to me...

Her train of thought was already on wobbly tracks, but as Bradley eased his tongue toward the birth of her clit, it was completely derailed, and she knew there was no getting it back.

No, I should just fuck him. Holy shit, that...that's incredible!

In her old life, Samuel wasn't at all experienced with her throat, but in a new, slender body, she reacted immediately to the rush of pleasure that settled in her pubic mound. Fresh arousal dripped from her womanhood and graced Bradley's tongue as she lowered her muzzle and bobbed her head rapidly over the tip, knowing little of what else she should do...but such a narrow snout made for a tight, heated blowjob, and a very happy tiger underneath.

Even without the aid of the extract, he would have gladly taken his shot at the cheetah, if he knew that this was his reward...

**

In the morning, the lust was gone; the last trickle of it was working its way out of Samuel's system as she stirred awake on top of Bradley.

The flavor of his cum was still lingering on her tongue, and a few tiny streaks of it had dried into the fur on the side of her muzzle...brushing her digits through those spots acted as a trigger, as if it made her realize that she was awake and feeling terribly hung over.

Her first instinct was to whirl around, and immediately, she saw Bradley stirring awake between her thighs. His own eyes looked just as tired as she felt, and bashfulness set in once more as she realized that her body was still the same as it had been the night before.

Now that she had to answer for the consequences of his actions, Samuel didn't know what to do with herself.

"That was...pretty wild last night, wasn't it?" she asked.

"I mean, I enjoyed it," he replied. "Did, uh...did you?"

"Yes, but that's not really at issue right now," she answered sternly. "Why isn't this wearing off? Why did I even turn into a cheetah in the first place?"

"Honestly, beats me how that stuff works, but it did...and I dunno when it stops working, either."

Bradley wasn't bold enough to lie to Samuel about that, but his honesty filled her with new despair.

"So I'm just stuck like this until you can dig up some answers?!"

"Yeah, but relax! I got that stuff from the coach," Bradley explained. "I'm sure he's got a cure for it lying around somewhere...he'll know what to do."

Classes were getting ready to start for the day, and Bradley couldn't afford to skip another one that semester...but he couldn't leave Samuel alone as she was, either.

"Come pal around with me for the day."

"Huh?"

"Another set of eyes means we'll have a way easier time finding the coach. Plus...I should probably keep an eye on you, just to be safe."

"And what do we tell people when they ask who I am?"

For once, Bradley thought quickly, and craftily.

"You're interested in being a new transfer student on campus...Selina. And you're my visitor for the day."