Cor's Big Book of Unfinished Works
"In a world where authors don't have all the free time they really want, a few sad stories go unfinished or ignored - unread in the depths of a computer file. But when that computer threatens to obliterate itself, the works must be set free , out onto the internet where they can finally be read, under appreciated and perhaps - if they're lucky - find completion."
So, I'm doing a massive 'works I intended to finish like a year ago, but life sucks and I don't have enough free time/motivation' dump. I've left a disclaimer in the file itself that these are massively WORKS IN PROGRESS.
On the other hand, feel free to use this as your own Idea farm, since most of these would LOVE to have a home. Some of these are so old that they have a different name attached to them (not even the last one I used.)
Anyway, I'm just trying to use FA/Sofurry like a 'dirty file dropbox' that doesn't want my real name before this computer crashes and burns like its threatening to do (the internal hard drive is currently sitting on the desk beside it O_O). Because I don't want to have this turn into another Growing up Greenfield, where I get close to finishing, but computer crashes and I don't finish anything and have to make a new account out of embarrassment ... and y'know what, forget I said anything. But someone can finish that one too if they like. =P
Anyway, enjoy the nonsense.
Corllen's Big Book of Unfinished Works
Corllengatu
My computer is finally behaving like it's about to bite the dust, and since I'm not keen on losing all of my work, I figure I'll bounce up a couple of things half-finished (but completely loved) so that I can go back and grab the concepts. Of course, this may also be a shameless attempt to prove that I'm kinda sorta working on things.
DISCLAIMER: Some of these - most of them actually - aren't going to be more than a paragraph or two in length, and almost all of them will be drastically changed/rewritten if they ever see the light of my frontpage. Most haven't been proofread, and a few might even have been written while drunk. One or two end mid-sentence. Everything here comes with a strong WIP warning.
THAT SAID: Feel free to steal any concept or character that grabs your fancy. Since none of these are CURRENT works in progress, there's a good chance I won't get around to finishing some of these, and it's only appropriate they get some love.
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ASCENSION
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"Caution: Godlike power may lead to some decidedly mortal addictions."
There was a shift inside the summoning circle as the chanting began - the sound of nearly two hundred voices speaking words of power echoing off of the stone walls of the ancient underground chamber - syllables rising and falling in practiced cadence. The air took on the sharp smell of ozone, like a desert right before a lightning storm. Seela - standing dead center in the circle amidst the crowd of hooded figures - bare paws begin to warm as the chalk runes beneath her feet began to glow a deep blood-red.
Seela shifted nervously, adjusting the heavy robe - the only piece of clothing she was allowed to wear for the ritual - trying to keep her face hidden. She had been ecstatic last night when the high priests had brought her aside to tell her she was to be the vessel for the Great Lord - to give her body with the deity they all worshiped, so that he might have a physical form and influence on the mortal realm. Only now was it occurring to her to ask just what that entailed.
The crowd chanted on, the symbols on the floor glowed brighter. A breeze began to flow around the summoning circle, softly stirring the hem of the robe around her feet. Her skin prickled from the feel of the power gathering in the circle, her fur feeling like it was all trying to stand on end at once. The air began to thicken - tasting sweet on her tongue and filling her lungs with a tickling, tingling sensation as the magic of the ritual began to seep into her bloodstream.
Seela scanned the multitude of hooded figures, searching. She hadn't told Moran she was going through with this. The daft fox would have only tried to talk her out of it, of course - and the priests had told her the identity of the vessel was supposed to be kept secret - but he was her boyfriend and she should have ...
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DEUS EX HYENA
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Deus Ex Hyena
Corllengatu
Sola leaned against the sink, her eyes unfocused. The vixen didn't really pay attention to her reflection in the mirror, her mind was far too busy thinking about what she'd just felt in the hallway. That barest glimpse of pure ecstasy that she'd felt. The low thrum suddenly filling the air around her, thrilling her whole body with an electric sense of need. Of anticipation.
Power.
The hyena who'd crashed clumsily into her after her chemistry lecture had been brimming with magical potential. Ashram the joker, the class clown, who until a moment ago hadn't even been a blip on Sola's radar. Ashram the idiot, who spent most of his time staring at the girls in his class slack-jawed. Ashram the klutz who had tripped over his own feet and sent the both of them sprawling onto the floor in the middle of a crowded hallway! Ashram ... was probably the most powerful arch-mage anyone had ever seen.
He wasn't aware of it yet - she'd had to be within kissing distance to feel the aura around him - he couldn't /project/ his power away from himself, but oh it was there. It was more power than a witch like Sola could hope to accumulate in a lifetime of dangerous bargains and power-mongering with demons. Most people with even a tenth of the magical talent he possessed would have been snatched up and trained as mages the second they were discovered, but this hyena ... as far as she knew, Ashram was completely unawares that magic even /existed/ - a veritable font of potential without even the slightest hint of how to use any of that power himself.
To a witch like Sola, that made him better than the holy grail.
She held up a tuft of brown hyena fur in front of her face, watching her expression slowly harden as she steeled her resolve. Fate had dropped him - rather literally - into her lap. She was destined for this. She'd need to get him alone as soon as possible. She needed to keep him still, somewhere where she could protect him while she had time to prepare. She needed to groom him, to make him understand that the power he had was hers to use. She needed him to be putty in her hands.
Her reflection smiled back at her as the plan began to solidify in her mind. Seduction. She couldn't be ashamed of using her body to get what she wanted - not with this much power on the line. It was the easiest way to get him alone, and sex would be a good method of controlling him - of keeping him complacent until she could get some deeper hooks in. With the way Ashram ogled the female form, he seemed almost sure to fall for a temptress.
Especially one that was tailor-made for him.
Sola slipped her backpack off of her shoulders and began pulling out vials and powders - placing the small tuft of hair into a rune-etched stone bowl and adding careful measurements from her containers. Illusion was unreliable, and it required a great deal of time and preparation to create one that would hold up to physical touch - time she didn't have. Direct manipulation of Ashram's thoughts or memories would be worthless against someone of his power - even unrealized as it was - and it carried with it too big a risk of permanent damage. A potion of heart's desire, however was a quick and dirty solution to the problem. She would be able to quickly and permanently change her physical form to that which he most desired, ensuring he'd be drooling over her before she even began to wrap him around her finger.
Of course, this method was expensive. She was using up rare alchemical ingredients that she might never find again, and even then it would still drain her of most of her own power reserves, leaving her running almost on empty. It would almost certainly have side effects as well - altering reality on such a scale as changing an entire person ... that would leave ripples that she would no doubt feel again later on. It was a risk, but it was the fastest method to ensure /she/ was the one with the prize. If that klutz stumbled into someone else who knew to look for a caster's aura while she was wasting time preparing an illusion ...
She emptied the last vial into the bowl, stirring the foul-smelling concoction with an onyx rod - focusing as she began to imbue the potion with the power it would need to function. A chill flowed up from her fingertips as they gripped the black stone pestle, the warmth slowly being sucked from her body as the potion demanded power - the runes on the stone bowl glowing red-gold - crawling across the stone surface as if they were alive. The potion began to glow slightly, the noxious brown color slowly fading to a translucent golden color - as thick and sweet-looking as honey.
The flow of heat from her body intensified for a moment, tendrils of cold creeping along Sola's chest as the spell set. Then, suddenly, the sensation vanished, and Sola became aware that she was breathing heavily, her body sore all over. She felt as if she had just run a marathon. She glanced up at her reflection, prodding one of the dark circles that had formed under her eyes. Then, she glanced down at the potion - the soft glow of the power she'd invested in it visible even under the harsh fluorescent light.
Sola let the smile spread back across her muzzle - her tail flicking back and forth in excitement - fatigue forgotten in the face of what she was about to do. She hefted the bowl in both hands and took one last look at the fox in the mirror: average, but intelligent - slightly mousy, and not blessed the curves vixens were famous for, but with a cute face and curious eyes. Her reflection had suited her well. Good for a low-power, low-profile witch, but highly inappropriate for the veritable goddess she'd become with Ashram's power under her control.
She took one last deep breath, blew her old reflection a kiss goodbye, and chugged the potion before she had a chance to second-guess herself.
Sola poured the potion down her open maw, drinking as fast as she could keep the thick liquid down. It tasted sweet, like mulled cider with the consistency of honey - it's scent heavy with a musky potpourri of spices. Everywhere the liquid touched began to tingle lightly - the sensation spreading out from her mouth and over her body - as if she were being slowly covered by a flowing silk sheet. As the concoction settled in her stomach, the tingles spidered out through her abdomen, joining their fellows as reality-warping magic flowed gently down through her chest. By the time she set the bowl down - empty of every drop - the soft energetic feeling covered her entire body.
She didn't get time to bask in the sensation. Her stomach lurched suddenly, violently, as a sense of vertigo spun the world around her. She leaned down, trying to steady herself on the sink - only to find it lower than it ought to be. She landed harder than she meant to, jostling empty vials and cases. She stared down at the offending porcelain in confusion for a moment before the sensation repeated itself.
This time, Sola felt herself growing - her clothes stretching tighter against her form: Her t-shirt seemed to slide upwards, ending just above her belt and showing off the barest hints of her midriff. Her jeans tightened around her hips, the cuffs landing just below her calves. She looked to be a good four inches taller than when she'd started, and the potion didn't seem to be done with her yet. Another growth spurt left her abdomen completely exposed, showing off lean, runner's lines - muscle toning and and developing in a heartbeat before she shot up again - her body filling out until the barest suggestion of a six-pack was visible below her soft, white stomach fur.
The seams on her jeans split in several places, as burgeoning thigh and calf muscles flexed against the rigid denim - at the same moment the front button gave up containing her wider hips and suddenly very firm rear end. In less than twenty seconds, Sola had gone from five-foot nothing and bookish to a five-foot, ten inch fitness model. Her jeans were stretched and undersized - ending just above her calves - bits of frayed stitching running all the way down the sides of her legs. Her t-shirt looked painted on - stretched over her upper body so tightly that it wasn't quite opaque any more - the bottoms of the sleeves beginning to tear along the seams as they strained to encompass her now much thicker arms. The transformation had left her powerful and flexible - sleek and gently curved ...
... and getting curvier by the second.
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IDOLIZED
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Shane made a point of pretending the stone idol on his desk didn't exist. It wasn't the statue itself that bothered the husky's sensibilities - he wouldn't have picked a three-foot stone carving of an over-endowed fertility idol to go on his desk (certainly not one which was encompassed BOTH genders, and definitely not one which was quite so visibly aroused) - but under normal circumstances, he might have dismissed it as a practical joke played by one of his friends. Of course, that was normal circumstances. This particular statue couldn't have been merely a hyena's commentary on how he couldn't keep a girl. It couldn't have been a group of his friends slipping into his unlocked dorm room at two in the morning, giggling their asses off as they stuck it on his desk. Somehow, he knew that wouldn't have bothered him NEARLY as much as watching the damn thing appear out thin air - to sit next to his homework like it had always been there.
Shane glared at the statue, trying to shake the feeling that it was watching him back. He had to admit, the thing was a masterwork of stone - a carving of a lifelike hermaphrodite husky, standing upright with her chest thrust proudly outward in direct defiance of the rather prodigious size of hir endowments. Shi had an attractive face - soft feminine features and a playful grin - but the artist had managed to give hir eyes a hungry look that seemed to follow Shane around the room whenever he moved. Canine ears perked up out of the tangle of wavy hair that spilled down over hir back - trained forward so that shi appeared to have hir complete attention focused on whoever was sitting in the chair. The whole thing creating the illusion that Shane himself was the subject of hir obvious - and intense - arousal.
This was making it rather difficult for Shane to focus on hir face.
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POSSESSION v1
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Modern Goddess
Nysanthrope
Serise stirred. Surrounded by the cold, unfeeling darkness that had become her resting place in the Well of the Gods, she felt a single twinge of warmth - reminding her that she had once been something more. She awoke fully - quickly - and looked towards the tiny glimmer of light that had sparked in the distance. Thoughts, memories, emotions, and PURPOSE flowed into her from this wavering beacon so far off in the distance, and Serise pulled towards it with all her will.
Up! Up towards the light - shining from the distant mortal realm. Up towards the belief - the lifeblood of the gods and their kind. Up towards the light of her single remaining follower. She would bless them - to thank them for freeing her from that cold, dark sleep with the other gods long forgotten to this world - and she vowed to do everything in her power to NEVER fall back.
Serise flowed into the mortal realm - formless until she found her conscious settled into the stone of a statue. Her new body was a likeness of herself, carved by her followers when they had been plentiful - a fourteen foot marvel of simple stone, meant to stand with the rest of the pantheon in the center of a town and to remind the people who it was who made the seasons turn and the crops flourish. Serise, long-forgotten goddess of fertility, looked out from the stone eyes of her last remaining avatar and admired her sole, new believer.
He was a dark-furred wolf, taller than any mortal male Serise had ever seen in her worship, dressed from head to toe in strange, smooth clothing that accented his body. Beneath the suit, the wolf was was well muscled, but he not from labor or fighting as such men had been in her own time. This was a man of appearances - and his quick-won belief in an ancient goddess of fertility was a matter of her own stunning appearance.
It made sense, after all. This had always been one of Serise's favorite forms - showing her as a young, innocent cat, garbed in the scant clothes of the spring in a temperate climate. The stone had captured an element of the purest beauty, and the likeness had been good enough to sway a large portion of Serise's own believers. So much so, that this had been her form during the middle years - when the gods had been in favor and she had roamed the mortal Earth in full celebration of her own power and the faith of her believers.
And Sebastian - her newest follower, the dark-furred gentlemen art collector, the stoic with a fortune in his own heritage - had found his belief in the celebration of that innocent beauty. He would show her off to his fellows - those like him who would TRULY appreciate her beauty. From there, their belief would ...
No! Even as he turned away - his attention shifting to the next piece of his collection - Serise could feel the power waning. As he stopped worshiping the beauty she'd brought into the world, she could feel her consciousness slipping back into the Well - feel the cold creep back over her body. For a moment - a single, terrible moment - she knew she would never see the warmth and light of the mortal realm again. She would fall dreamless into the terrible cold of the Well of the Gods, and rest there with her forgotten compatriots until the end of time until ...
She took a gamble.
With as little power as she had, it was dangerous to thrust herself into the mortal realm so completely, but she had made a vow - never to go back to the cold and lifeless sleep of the Well. She focused her power, focused her will, focused the scant remnants of belief she had gathered in the minutes of admiration Sebastian had given her, and she thrust herself into the mortal world.
Stone shimmered, and became flesh. The world rippled, and a soft breeze ruffled the fur on Serise's face. Her chest heaved, and she drew in the air around her, falling to her hands and knees as she worked to catch her breath. She felt gravity pressing down on her, felt the clothing wrapped around her body, and - on more than one level - she became aware of Sebastian's startled gaze.
"You- What- How-" Half-formed questions tumbled out of the wolf's muzzle, in a language that sounded odd and alien to Serise. She understood their meaning - she was a goddess in contact with the mortal world as no one before her had dared, but she understood something else now, too.
Sebastian wouldn't worship her. Not as she was, not now. She might be a statue come to life, and she might be a good deal more fantastic than the next girl, but he wasn't about to believe she was the goddess responsible for the seasons turning, or the crops growing - because those things had happened without her being there for longer than he was able to comprehend. No. She could see it in his stance, his mind, and his heart.
Sebastian might worship her beauty occasionally, but that wasn't her domain and the favor from that would be fleeting at best. By no means was Sebastian about to break down into a ritual thanking her for the seasons. She would starve to death here in the mortal realm, and not even the slumber of the Well would be waiting for her. She would die for good this time unless ... unless she could get Sebastian to ...
But there was something else buried in the mind of the gentleman wolf. Something deep and primal. Something that Serise was very familiar with as a goddess of fertility - something growing from Sebastian's thoughts of her beauty. It wasn't her domain - not truly - but there would be plenty of ritual involved ... and it wasn't like a goddess never changed to suit the needs of her believers ... After all, she only had one believer to suit, and it was becoming pretty clear what his needs were ...
Serise smiled as she felt the warmth of new belief surge over her. This was a whole new mortal world, and she was going to THRIVE.
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POSSESSION v2
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Possession
Corllengatu
The leopardess stirred. Surrounded by the cold, unfeeling darkness that had become her resting place in the Well of the Gods, she felt a single twinge of warmth - reminding her that she had once been something more. She awoke fully - quickly - and looked towards the tiny glimmer of light that had sparked in the distance. Thoughts, memories, emotions, and /purpose/ flowed into her from this wavering beacon so far off in the distance.
Serise stood, her snow-white fur glimmering in the dim light, a radiant beacon in the cold dark. She was naked - even the simplest vestiges of mortal society denied the gods and goddess who slept in the Well. They were the faithless - deities who lost their followers fell here as their foothold in the mortal realms faded and their power diminished. The gods were technically immortal, but the sleep in the Well of the Gods was a dark and dreamless - a different kind of death.
Serise shivered, rubbing her arms, and doing her best to wrap her thick tail around her body. She didn't have to think about the Well. The dim glow in the distance was hers. Followers. Faith. The barest hints of the power she used to have - but it was enough to free her from this damned hole.
She was a goddess of fertility and light. She was a power of the old age. Worshipped in her time by mortals and gods alike. She was grace. She was power and beauty. And she had worshippers once more. She would have power once more. She gritted her teeth and strode forward towards the faint light, stepping carefully over the slumbering forms of the remaining faithless as they slept soundlessly in the dark. She reached the small window in the pitch black created by her followers call. Looking through, she could just make out the barest hints of a room, the corners dark and distorted through a thin gray film. If she squinted, she could just make out two forms in the dim light - one gray-furred, and the other white. There was too much distortion to make out what they looked like, or even the style of clothing they wore. It was like something was in the way, blocking her connection with her followers.
Serise reached out to the pair, intending to let her presence be known - to tell them to keep up the summoning ritual - that their faith would be answered, but her hand brushed up against the same film that had blocked her view. It was like touching a piece of oiled glass - warm and slick, but completely unyielding to her touch. She frowned and pressed harder against the barrier. Nothing would stand between her and her followers. She would /not/ go back to the dreamless sleep of the well.
Then she felt it. The thing she was pressing up against rippled and moved like living skin - the smooth, oiled surface flowing around her fingers as something touched her mind. Serise withdrew her hand reflexively away from what she felt, and the connection was severed. She shivered as she tried to understand what she had sensed beyond the rippling glass. Whatever was blocking her entry was /vast/ beyond her comprehension.
A soft sound echoed in the well - like the faintest rustle of wind, or a soft step. Except there was no wind here. There shouldn't be anyone else awake. Serise paused and searched the inky darkness, her eyes shining in the soft, flickering light. Nothing stirred. The bodies of the faithless remained eerily motionless - frozen in time. Maybe it was just her imagination.
Serise shivered, turning back towards the light, and started backward as she saw the figure staring back at her through the window. Nothing distorted this figure, but it remained only the barest suggestion of a material creature. A black, barely formed silhouette watched her from the other side of the window, but something told her if she reached out and touched it, it would be very much on this side of the barrier. She got the eerie impression that it was smiling at her.
"Serise." the thing's voice was a soft, sensual sound. Soothing and deep - flowing across her body like a blanket. "Goddess of light. Goddess of fertility. Goddess of life."
"What ... what are you?" Serise straightened herself and stood as confidently as she could manage. This was no god as she was familiar with the term. It was too massive ... too powerful. She'd never seen anything like it before, and it was between her and her followers.
"It has been so very long since someone has woken down here in this cold, dark well." She got the distinct impression that the silhouette was smiling at her. "The world has changed since the last of the gods walked its surface, and I am perhaps the closest thing that remains. But I am not like you. I am a part of everyone who walks the mortal realm, and yet I am not /of/ them. There is much we could help each other with, you and I. Perhaps a bargain is in order."
"Bargain? What would such a bargain gain /me/?" Serise demanded. She was losing patience with this ... whatever it was. Her followers were summoning her. They needed her, and this ... hollow shadow was wasting her time.
"I am vast," the thing replied - its voice silken and almost sad, "And my hold over this realm is tight, but my people are distant. They do not know me in person as they might a god of your era. I could not abide a free agent. You would roam the mortal world and tear their faith from me. You cannot be allowed to enter the mortal world as you are. Were you to accept my bargain, however ..."
"Very well, shade." Serise snarled in frustration. She had no hopes of overpowering this thing, and worse - she had no reason to disbelieve it. If its grip over the world were as complete as it claimed ... she might very well be barred completely from the mortal world. She dared not think of what would happen in that case. She might wander here, alone for a time, but the minds of mortals were fickle, and they would soon lose interest in her - or pass from the world altogether - and then she would fall back to the floor of the well. She would not go back to that cold, unfeeling slumber. "Name your ... /terms/."
"I ask only that you wear my aspect for as long as you stay in the mortal world. My 'colors', if you will." The shade's featureless face gave the impression of turning slightly, as if it were looking over its shoulder. "You will be free to use your mortal playthings as you see fit. As long as you wear my aspect their worship of you will strengthen their bond to me. I will demand no task of you, nor will I command your actions. You will be free, but you will be /of/ me - my link to the people."
"A tithe." Serise said flatly. She didn't like the idea, but the alternative ...
"You could call it that." The silhouette gave the impression of that sly smile again. "I believe I have an aspect that will suit you wonderfully. What say you to my terms?"
Serise considered only for a moment. She didn't have much of a choice, really. She would have agreed to more had the shade asked it of her. "You have a bargain, shade. Does my new master have a name?"
"My name ..." the shade beckoned her closer, into the warm shadow of its embrace. Serise felt the thrill of finally stepping through the barrier into the mortal realm as the shade flowed over her and whispered in her ear. "Call me ... Sin."
"Something's happening." the snow leopard in the center of the summoning circle straightened as he stopped chanting. He had a peculiar look on his face, his head slightly tilted as he spoke, "I can /feel/ it."
Gene rolled his eyes at his friend's sudden display of theatrics, the big timber wolf shifting in the lawn chair he'd set up next to Shane's 'summoning circle'. The ditzy cat had been sitting in the same spot - his tail carefully wrapped inside the chalk line on the basement floor, chanting nonsense for nearly fifteen minutes. Nothing had happened yet, and Gene was beginning to lose hope that anything would. Sure, he'd been a little drunk at the start of this charade, and he might have even honestly /believed/ there for a bit, but the moment was passing.
He was - however - still drunk.
Gene put on his best mock pleading voice, to proclaim, "Oh Serise, lady of light and fertility! Grant us your blessing so that we may thusly woo many bitches with our impressive packages!"
"Seriously," Shane glared at his compatriot, "You don't feel that? I'm gettin some hella strong vibes from in here."
"Dude, if you wind up with a huge cock, and I get stiffed on the deal, we're totally going to go find a canine goddess of fertility, and /I/ get to sit in the circle." Gene snorted at his own wit trying to imagine himself sitting a hastily-drawn circle chanting the words rapid-fire.
His inhale brought a strong musky smell to greet his canine nose. The scent seemed to curl around his brain, warming his blood. He was suddenly very aware of the tight jeans he was wearing - and how obvious an erection would be through the fabric. He exhaled sharply and shook his head, trying to clear the random erotic fantasies that were bubbling up in his head.
"Hey man, are you alright?" Gene's attention was drawn back to Shane as the leopard let out a low moan and arched his back.
Seemingly in response, Shane's body seemed to ripple - and the leopard began to change. As Gene watched, Shane shrank - his impressive six foot stature quickly dwindling. Even sitting on the floor, it was apparent the leopard had lost more than half a foot of height in a matter of a few seconds. His clothes hung loosely off of his body, his pants falling down around his waist - boxers only held in place by the elastic waistband.
Gene could only stare as whatever forces were at work weren't done with Shane yet. The leopard gasped and fell on to all fours, pants slipping farther down his legs as all traces of masculinity vanished from his body. Bulky muscle gained from years of sports and careful training thinned and smoothed out under a thin layer of plush that just barely hinted at strength. The lines of his face softened, strong jaw and broad, feline muzzle becoming noticeably more delicate while his hair - originally a short mane of sandy brown, began to lengthen and turn a pale golden shade.
<Use SMOKE TENDRIL in transformation sequence. Needs to look like something is TAKING OVER Shane. Fade to black smoke to show corruption for first growth scene.>
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SIZE MATTERS
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"Are you sure this'll y'know ... work?" Shane eyed the small vial of clear fluid Kriss had given him. "It's not just a vial of sugar water or somethin'?"
"I'm not an expert in the 'endowment problems' of foxes," Kriss flashed Shane a grimace - gold chained trinkets and talismans clinking around her neck as the black cat put air quotes around Shane's shame, "But that's sure as hell not a placebo. It's /pure/ sexual energy - and I wouldn't be giving it to you if I didn't still owe you - and if it weren't the only way for a low-power witch like me to get you an extra few ... inches." She spat the word at him, her intense green-eyed gaze trying to bore a hole in the glass vial as Shane gingerly tucked it into a pocket. "Which is a stupid way to waste your favor by the way. Aren't you going steady with that /little/ lynx ... wassername?"
"Zoe." Shane shrugged. He was going steady with her. Had been going steady for months - and they'd gotten comfortable enough around one another to reveal a few kinks in their sexual desires. As it turned out, Zoe was spunky little lynx with a thing for /big/ guys.
Then she'd started bringing porn over. It would have been startling enough on its own, but Shane couldn't help but see the hungry look in her eyes as she watched the males in the videos - all massively endowed bulls and horses - and if she attacked him with unfailing passion immediately after, Shane couldn't shake the feeling that she was imagining being in bed with one of the males on the screen.
"She's a bit of a size queen, and -"
"I don't want to know!" Kriss held up a hand, and turned her head away - a light blush just visible below her black fur, "Just get out of here and go enjoy yourself." Shane found himself suddenly being manhandled to the door. "Be careful with that stuff - I'm still not a hundred percent on what you'll get if you use a dose too large - and you're on your own if you fuck it up. You've used your favor." Her eyes darted to the pocket holding the vial again before she shut the door in his face unceremoniously.
Shane smiled as he turned away, his tail swishing in anticipation. He was going to make sure Zoe never even thought about that movie when she came over tonight.
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Err ...
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Rough Exponential Growth from 5.16
12 - 30/10 - 36.0
3 - 29/10 - 8.7
4,398,046,511,104 - 28/10 - 2.1
1,099,511,627,776 - 27/10 - .5
274,877,906,944 - 26/10 - 714,682,558,054.0
68,719,476,736 - 25/10 - 171,798,691,840.0
17,179,869,184 - 24/10 - 41,231,686,041.6
4,294,967,296 - 23/10 - 9,878,424,780.8
1,073,741,824 - 22/10 - 2,362,232,012.8
268,435,456 - 21/10 - 563,714,457.6
67,108,864 - 20/10 - 134,217,728.0
16,777,216 - 19/10 - 31,876,710.4
4,194,304 - 18/10 - 7,549,747.2
1,048,516 - 17/10 - 1,782,477.2
262,144 - 16/10 - 419,430.4
65,536 - 15/10 - 24,576.0
16,384 - 14/10 - 22,937.6
4,096 - 13/10 - 5,289.7
1,024 - 12/10 - 1,228.8
256 - 11/10 - 281.6
64 - 10/10 - 64.0
16 - 09/10 - 14.4
4 - 08/10 - 3.2
5,280.00 - 07/10 - 3696.0
1,320.00 - 06/10 - 792.0
330.00 - 05/10 - 165.0
82.50 - 04/10 - 33.0
20.63 - 03/10 - 6.2
5.16 - 02/10 - 1.1
5.16 - 01/10 - .5
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The Lady
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My Fine Lady
Corrlengatu
Mirriam paused in front of the carved wooden doors leading to the princess' private quarters, as something tickled the back of her mind. She stared at the cup of mulled wine in her paw, idly straightening the servant's livery she wasn't quite used to yet. It was a little tight around the young antelope's shapely hips - and even moreso around her bosom - but she hadn't had time to get it tailored yet. Her lady's father had just ascended to the throne, and the switch from waiting on a lady to waiting on /the/ lady had meant a change of house colors, and a lot more ceremony, but she was adjusting. She certainly wasn't shy of the attention she was earning as the princess' favorite handmaiden.
But then ... it still felt like she was forgetting something. The little tingle in the back of her mind became an itch as her arm began to move on its own, delving into her pocket and returning with a small glass vial. Mirriam paid the movement no mind whatsoever. It wasn't important, not compared to whatever she was forgetting. Something that dashing young leopard down in the kitchens had wanted her to do next time she brought the highness her drink ... if only she could remember what it was she was supposed to do.
She flicked the cork off the vial with a thumbclaw as she wracked her brain, a soft, heady musk joining the scent of spices in the warm wine. Mirriam had to stop herself from drinking the contents of the vial as the scent hit her nose. She was already in trouble enough with ... the thing she was forgetting. She certainly didn't have time to go get another ... one of ... whatever this vial was. She shrugged and upended the vial into the cup, smiling as the aroma sweetened and the contents glowed pink for a moment. Her thoughts had wandered back to the leopard, and his warm, confident grin - his soft, hypnotic gaze that had almost seemed to /glow/ in the dark light of the kitchens. She was sure he'd forgive her. He had seemed like such a kind and wonderful person in the few moments she'd known him.
She relaxed as her hand slipped the empty vial back into her pocket. Whatever had slipped her mind could wait - she had a duty to perform. She knocked on the ornate wooden door before admitting herself.
The princess smiled at Mirriam from her seat next to the fire managing to look both radiant and regal in a short-cut blue gown that dipped low on her slender form, showing slight hints of cream colored cleavage, even as the outfit slid aside to show off a brown-speckled leg up the hip as she crossed it over the other, setting down the book she'd been reading and turning her full attention on Mirriam. The antelope had always admired a hyena's ability to be completely at home in their own skin, and the princess had developed a certain flair for exotic outfits - especially ones that let her show off a little predatory grace.
The princess stood up and took the cup from Mirriam, casting a girlish grin up at the taller woman. "Mmmm. Mulled wine?"
"The very best, Highness." Mirriam tucked her arms behind her back and did her best to look meek and servile, "Freshly imported from the province of Hedon."
"Miriam. We're the same age. We're friends. Call me Serise. At least in private." She smiled and patted the mortified serving antelope on the back. "And Hedon? I had no idea they made mulled wine."
"Yes ma'am." Mirriam would have to agree to disagree on calling the Princess by name. As far as the wine went though, she had no idea why she'd said that. The wine had come from the palace's local reserves. There was no reason to import something ... and certainly not from Hedon on all places! Of course, it was too late to take back the silly statement, and far better to just run with it, "The wine come's highly reccommended."
"Ha! Well, good to see they're exporting something other than black magic fetishes these days." Serise took the cup back to her chair and resumed her regal position on the soft chair.
Mirriam nodded - her duty completed. She remained standing with her arms behind her back, her mind wandering back to the young leopard she'd met downstairs. He was probably from Hedon - being a leopard and all. She was sure that was where that thought had come from. She would have to watch herself - she couldn't afford to be smitten with some Hedonite ... stud ... just because he had a pretty smile ... oh and a nice -
Mirriam was torn from her train of thought by an ecstatic moan from the princess' direction. The hyena had both paws on the cup, upending the drink into her open muzzle and finishing the cup in a few gulps - sparkling pink liquid splashing out around the sides of her maw - thick droplets staining the seamless blue of the dress around her bosom. She slammed the empty cup down on the table beside her, knocking the discarded text she'd been reading to the floor with a clatter. She leaned back and panted heavily, each breath straining the taut fabric of the dress around her chest.
The lady was visibly... /aroused/ ... beneath the skin-tight blue ensemble. Mirriam was going to have to have words with whoever had fit the thing. "Are you ... alright, Highness?"
The Princess' head swung down, her gaze settling on Mirriam. Her pupils were dilated - the irises little more than thin gold rings around deep black pools that shined a faint pink in the light. She stood up, causing the dress to strain audibly as it stretched around breasts it could have never hoped to contain - nipples as big around as Mirriam's thumb jutting out lewdly against the protesting fabric.
Mirriam stared as Serise rose to her feet, and she found herself looking the princess directly in the eyes. She'd always been the taller of the two, but whatever was affecting her lady was clearly out to change that - among ... other things. Serise had done quite a lot of growing, and not just upwards. The princess had always had an athletic build, lithe and lean - but her dress was currently straining to contain enough curves to qualify her as voluptuous. Her top hugged breasts that could have been melons, while her hips flowed out of a narrow waist into a perfect hourglass figure, the split in the dress's hem entirely failing to cover one of her shapely thighs.
"Miriam, Miriam, Miriam ~" Serise took a swaying step towards Miriam, and the dazed antelope found herself looking /up/ into the hyena's hungry gaze. The dress groaned and split as the stitching gave out, tearing straight down the center of Serise's now immense valley of cleavage as the flesh slowly expanded - already showing hints of jet-black aureole around the frayed edges of blue. This close, Miriam could /smell/ the heavy scent of the princess' arousal. It clogged her nostrils and weighed her thoughts down like a lead blanket. "Has anyone ever told you that you look ... delicious?"
"A-buh-" Miriam couldn't form the thought into words, and after a few moments, had trouble remembering what the thought was in the first place. Serise filled her world, and a wonderful heat filled her body. All she could think about was how close the lady had gotten to her, and the more she thought about it, the stronger the heat - the /need/ - in her own body grew.
Mirriam leaned back, letting her mouth meet Serise's muzzle as the powerful hyena pulled her into a passionate kiss. She found herself standing on tip-toe just to keep their lips together, even with the princess leaning her neck down to meet her. Moments later, the princess had her lifted bodily off the ground into an intimate embrace.
With a loud groan and tear, the last of the dress gave up containing the princess' expanding form. Warm flesh spilled out against Mirriam, and she suddenly found the upper half of her body nearly buried in female flesh. Something large and solid jutted up against the antelope's rib cage
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Samuel 227 v1 ### (Alternate endings for the version posted)
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"Samuel! Two-two-seven." Sam glanced up at the source of the voice - tinny and distorted - like it was being piped through a PA system. A small, eggshell-white sphere hovered just above his head - two large, glowing-gold eyes the only feature visible on its 'face'. It was looking down at him, and he got the distinct impression it was smiling. "Welcome to station fifty-three-fourty. I am unit Zed-zed-twelve, and I am to be your guide through your initiation and subsequent genetic modification! I'm sure you have questions. Samuels always have questions. You are a very inquisitive breed."
Sam's brain tried to go in six different directions at once. Samuels ... Plural? Station? /Genetic modification/? He settled for gesturing wildly at everything. At himself and his strange, unfamiliar body At the tanks full of ... the others. At the strange little sphere itself. "What ... what is this? What's going on?"
"Yes, that is a popular one." the strange little sphere bobbed up and down as if nodding.
"Follow me, and I'll try to give you the background as we go."
The little sphere turned, and hovered off down the narrow corridor - as if it were suspended from a wire. Sam strode after it, heavy footfalls ringing against the metal grating that made up the floor. His muscles had finally begun to stop aching, but he still felt awkward - too large, too heavy, and too ... sharp.
"You are Samuel Two-Two-Seven, active citizen of the Assembly. As of your awakening, it has been roughly four months since your birth, and roughly three hours since your memories finished being written onto that wonderful storage device you call a mind." the little sphere turned and gave him a wink without losing any forward momentum. "These memories have been known to cause some minor identity issues during the early stages, but they do allow us to skip most of the embarrassing phases like learning to talk, and to not chew on electrical wires."
"So I'm not ..." Sam was going to say 'real', but that hardly seemed to be true. He was most certainly /real/, just not quite as he remembered himself.
"You are not Samuel Donovan, resident of New York city." The sphere sounded like it was reciting a speech. "You do not have an Aunt Mary, and you have never attended college, much less had to take a year off for mono."
"And the /actual/ Samuel?"
"Hmm. The 'actual Samuel' as you put it," The orb's 'eyes' winked out in thought, but the little ball continued to navigate the corridor serenely, "Died almost fifteen years ago - as your world was taken and added to the Assembly. Your designation is in relation to the set of memories you have been given, but also to your exact genetic lineage - though I admit, the base model is beginning to ... deviate a little from the memory source."
"So I'm a ... clone?" Sam's mind was reeling. The vats made more sense. The whole identity crisis was a little clearer now - but it just made more questions. "Hardly! Your species' method of reproduction is still proving adequate for our quotas."
The orb made a series of clicks that sounded roughly like a chuckle, "If you're wondering about your brothers still in the sleeping pods, well - they're exactly that - your twin brothers. All of the 'Samuels' in this part of the complex are from the same litter."Sam did a mental count, "More than two dozen in a single litter!?"
"The 'Samuels' compose only the male component of the litter. And before you ask, at the time of your birth, modern research had the female to male ratio up to nine to one. We've made significant improvements in the fertility of our breeders in recent months.
--- --- --- ALTERNATIVELY: --- --- ---
The pathway ended in a small, oval shaped room. A single white chair - rising out of the floor as seamlessly as the walls did - stood facing a dark spot on the far wall. His guidance over, Sam stood awkwardly next to the chair, gazing around. "Hello? Final phase here?"
"One minute, one minute!" The dark spot flickered and resolved itself into an image of an empty desk, in front of a window showing open, blue sky. A black name-plaque on the front of the desk read simply 'ZZA', and a coffee cup that read 'The Assembly: For Our Future' sat next to it - steam gently rising off the top. A few seconds passed, and then a border collie in a non-descript blue collared shirt sat down behind the desk, smiling warmly at him.
Sam was actually struck speechless. This was so obscenely ... normal. After everything that had been happening, Sam had half-expected to see some alien - or another copy of himself at the desk. The dog before him looked every bit the calm, polite office worker.
"Ah, a Samuel." The dog leaned forward as soon as he spotted Sam - obviously intent "Must be the new generation. Let's have a look at you then!" The lights in the room brightened slightly, and Sam had to squint to stay focused on the screen. "Let's see, looks like we've got more two inches in height - allows for the increase in muscle mass, but we've kept the high reflex acuity, and I'm definitely seeing some subtle motor-cortex improvements. Could you do a quick lap around the room for me, Sam? I ... um ... yes, yes, questions first - humiliating poking and prodding later."
"Two inches?" Sam gestured at his body, trying to process what the dog was saying. Appearances, may be normal - but that whole statement had gone right along with the Looney Toons adventure he'd been having. "I'm a good /foot/ taller than I remember. Hell, even my damn teeth have gotten more than /two/ inches."
"Forgive me. I always get carried away with the new generations." The collie smiled warmly. "Let's do the introduction, shall we? My designation is Zed-Zed-Alpha - and no, I'm not a real border collie. I'm a self-contained artificial intelligence. The canine appearance was judged by the founders to be the least offensive to the widest range of species - most of which don't even exist anymore, but I'm not picky. I'm mainly here to administer your genetic modification and guide you through the first week - answer any questions you might have."
/That/ brought a few questions to mind. "Genetic modification?"
"Of course, of course. Why should I rattle on about me? You're the interesting one." Zed waved a hand dismissively. "/You/ are Samuel Two-Two-Seven. The /premiere/ male feline for both combat and construction. As you are, let's call it the base model, we can further apply a genetic spike to enhance your abilities to make you a more efficient fighter, worker, breeder - basically whatever the Assembly needs at the time. The memories you have were extracted from the original 'Samuel', the progenitor of your entire species. They've been known to cause some minor identity issues during the early stages, but they do allow us to skip most of the embarrassing phases like learning to talk, and to not chew on electrical wires."
"Implanted memories?" Sam was having 'identity issues', alright sure it explained the unfamiliar face, and the strange feeling that he was in the wrong body, but it raised so many more questions ... "So what, I'm a .. a clone or something?"
"Nope. No clones here. The Assembly believes in good, old-fashioned sexual reproduction." Zed laughed as he glanced at something on the desk, "Good thing, too - or you'd be out of a job. Says here you're to be reassigned as a breeder."
"Then the rows of identical people in the pods ..."
"Identical twins," the collie shrugged, looking thoughtful "Or whatever the equivalent term is for twenty-six brothers born at the same time. Of course, with the breakthroughs the Assembly is making in fertility, the litter you were born in will most likely be dwarfed by the ones you'll be producing."
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World of Goo
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World of Goo
Zazel
In which our hero nearly gets killed by a meteor.
Shane had been reduced to a puddle. Struck by an errant meteorite as it collided with the
earth's surface, it had first made sure to obliterate the lounging snow leopard and a good six feet of the surrounding vegitation - leaving nothing but a thick white pool of liquid in his place. The odds were astronomical - for a meteorite of such a small size to even successfully enter the atmosphere, much less crash down right on top of the unsuspecting feline. And while it might seem that Shane had been the victim of the worst kind of luck, Shane himself wasn't sure what to think - because it seemed he wasn't quite dead.
He tried to open his eyes. At first, nothing happened - but after a moment, the puddle rippled, swirled, and disembodied eyes formed on the surface as Shane found himself staring up at the empty night sky. He tried to turn his head, to get a better view of his surroundings - and his body was slow to respond to this, too. The puddle twisted, rose, and began to form a small part of its surface around the eyes into something more recognizable.
The mass congealed, forming and becoming solid - taking on the loose form of a feline muzzle. Rounded ears formed on the top, shifting farther back away from the eyes as a more defined forehead resolved itself from the goo. Features on the face sharpened, becoming more solid, more lifelike. Tiny rivers of liquid rose up, standing on end to become a fine mass of pristine, white fur that covered the whole of Shane's still-forming face - until at last, his entire head was recreated in lifelike detail, seeming to rise up out of the puddle's surface, as if his neck and body were simply submerged.
Shane drew in a sharp breath, or at least tried to. His efforts were rewarded with little more than a gurgling sound when he tried to inhale as the pool below him shifted and swirled more violently. In the depths of the puddle, Shane's chest began to re-construct itself, and as he tried to lift himself up out of the swirling white pool, his arms began to form - featureless white blobs that began to resemble the hands he was used to. Very quickly - as if he was somehow learning, and as his memory of himself became clearer.
He gripped the side of the crater - the edges of the pool now several inches below the lip as liquid mass redistributed itself, rapidly forming into the familiar body of a lean Snow Leopard. He lifted himself out of the puddle of thick white goo still swirling around him. The surface clung to his body lightly, and it took a good deal of time and effort, but eventually Shane made it out, lying panting on the cool grass - stark naked, but somehow alive.
Shane got to his feet and glanced back at the white puddle - its surface still and placid now, not even rippling in the light breeze that blew across the empty lot. It seemed smaller now, calm and inviting, and Shane found himself having to suppress the urge to jump back in it and let the rest of that thick white goo wash over him. It was an odd thought, and he did his best to ignore it. He had bigger problems at that moment - like the fact that he was completely naked, and out in the open. Even this time of night there could be joggers running along the road, and he didn't want to explain why he was out here, completely naked, rolling around in a puddle of what looked like melted marshmallow.
He glanced around, orienting himself, and headed off towards the lights of his apartment building. He felt a strange detached sadness as he left the pool behind him, but he ignored it as his rational mind worked to solve rational problems - like making sure he wasn't arrested for public indecency.
Shane managed to slip into his apartment without being seen, finding his door blissfully unlocked. He wasn't sure what had happened to his keys, but at the moment he was much more concerned with what had happened to him. The brisk walk through the cool night air had given him a chance to clear his mind - and it had jogged his memory. He remembered his normal night-time prowl through the empty lot behind his apartment. He remembered stopping to lounge under his favorite tree. He remembered seeing the meteor as it soared towards him - thinking how beautiful it was. He remembered his world devolving into sound and fire as it had struck him, and then ...
He remembered not being dead. Remembered waking up in that strange white puddle, and experiencing the strangest sensations as he tried to pull himself up out of the thick white goop - as feeling returned to bits and pieces of his body more or less as soon as he remembered they existed. He was struck with the sudden absurd notion that he'd left a piece of himself behind in the puddle, and once again he had to suppress an urge to run out there and dive back into it - but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing ... something ...
Shane shook his head and walked into his bedroom, in search of the full-length mirror, determined to prove to himself that he was fine and that all this was just some paranoia related to his recent near-death experience. He stopped in front of the mirror and examined himself. Immediately, he recognized something was wrong, but it took him a moment to place it. A quick inventory revealed nothing missing, his arms, legs, ears, nose, tail were all exactly where they were supposed to be. His malehood was still intact, and it seemed that everything - right down to the fine white coat of fur that covered every square inch of him - was exactly where it was supposed to be.
Then it dawned on him. He was a snow leopard - always had been - but here he was staring at his reflection in the mirror that was completely and totally devoid of any markings whatsoever. A fine, white coat of fur - much like the fur on his stomach and inner arms - the fur he was used to seeing without the aid of a mirror - covered his entire body, without a single spot in sight.
Not a second after he noticed anything was wrong, his fur seemed to ripple as black, grey, and brown pigment formed everywhere on his coat. Thick blotches of color far too large to be the intricate patterns of snow leopard spots coalesced all over his body, swirling and blending as the resolved more and more detail until - less than a minute later - his reflection was completely indistinguishable from his old self.
Of course, this wasn't his old self. Whatever had just happened was not normal. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Again, he was struck by the strange feeling that he was leaving some part of himself behind at the strange pool, and this time he didn't dare suppress it. Shane quickly found his laundry and threw on a pair of jeans - not even bothering to find boxers or a shirt - and headed back out, determined to figure out what the hell was going on.
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MACROSCOPE FINALE ### (Spoilers? Kind of? VERY subject to change.)
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Kayne could feel the warm, silver ripple move up his face as the nanites changed him. He could /see/ the fur on his muzzle shift color - becoming thicker and glossier - before his whole muzzle seemed to change before his eyes.
He felt no pain. He felt no fear. Whatever the nanites were doing to him, it felt /wonderful/ - every inch of his face and head tingling with soft, subtle pleasure and the most radiant sense of confidence he'd ever felt. His new face was beautiful. His new face was perfect.
He felt a tingling sensation in his scalp as dark, shimmering hair fell down around his face in long wavy strands - spilling partway down his back, and flowing down around his shoulders to rest against his chest. He let out a gasp as he felt the light brush of sensation across his nipples - too caught up in the pleasure to be concerned with the suddenly higher pitch of his voice.
He glanced down to find the normally tawny brown fur on his upper chest had been replaced by a thick, snow-white coat. He could see the ripple moving slowly down his body, changing him as it went. He could feel warmth building in his chest, sending electric tingles of pleasure running up his spine as heat pulsed with his heartbeat.
Kayne watched with wonder as the heat on his chest intensified - flowing into his nipples. He grinned with barely restrained glee as they thickened and lengthened - swelling with each rapid beat of his heart until they jutted up and away from his chest - engorged, and very clearly female. The intense flush spread slowly outward, lighting up the rest of his chest with the same tingles of pleasure as flesh began to expand.
He let a hand rise automatically to cup the swelling mounds on his chest. Slim, dexterous, feminine fingers grasped the expanding flesh, and he marveled at how it already filled his hand quite nicely. The wonderful - right - sensation of the touch spurred his other hand up, and he began to play with his chest - languishing in the feeling of his breasts growing beneath his grasp.
Quickly, he worked himself into a state of bodily arousal - his erection working its way to full attention - but he couldn't bring himself to give it the attention it demanded. The feeling of his new breasts was just to good to give up. He sank to his knees, and lost himself for a moment in just the purse sensation of touch against the swelling flesh of his chest - new erogenous zones in his brain conveying pleasure that had never been possible before.
For a moment, his body was balanced. The nanites seemed to pause, silver fur stretching halfway over Kayne's stomach - splitting him almost perfectly in half - impossibly beautiful snow-leopard woman above his waist, and slim fox male below. Then, the changes to his upper body finally completed as he felt the warm trickle of milk flow through his fingers from his teasing efforts - and the smooth ripple of change flowed slowly downwards once more.
Kayne's hips began to widen as the silver fur spread across his abdomen, picking up speed as it rushed towards his groin. There was a moment of intense heat - every nerve in his maleness suddenly on fire. Pain and pleasure mixed together for a moment - as some internal war was fought. He was caught in a wave of sensation - unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything but just feel. Then, the pain faded away, and all that was left was a burning, pressing need.
A tightening sensation rushed upwards over his body - a separate ripple spreading rapidly from his groin. Power flowed into the his stomach as a portion of the soft fat there melted into muscle, tightening and toning his core - from plush to athletic in seconds. Power rippled through his chest, over his shoulders and arms - a tight tingle lingering between his shoulder blades. Down, below his swelling maleness, the silver-white fur spread more rapidly - thighs filling out to match his wide hips, legs tapering gracefully down to slim, almost dainty feet.
No trace of masculinity returned to his features, but beneath the soft face and dexterous limbs, he could feel power building. His muscles sang - aching to be used. He wanted to run. Wanted to lift. Wanted to show off. To feel his heart race as he flexed to impress a lover - right before taking her - feeling the power in his ass and thighs as he leaned into every thrust with animal passion.