The Wolf Soul – Part Eleven
#11 of The Wolf Soul (TF/TG Themes)
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Continuing for Aaron Blackpaw on his commission about transformation and everything that comes with that. Hope you have an interesting time and I look forward to your comments!
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Brandon couldn't stay still.
He'd been fidgeting all day, and he hadn't even trusted himself to drive to the hospital, and had instead opted on a taxi. He had bags in both arms, filled with gifts he'd picked up on a binge of impulse shopping he'd embarked in to cheer Andy up when the time came. Now he was equipped with flowers, a cute stuffed grey wolf with hipster glasses and a bow tie (because they might as well start getting used to wolves in a lot of ways), a paperback book (because now that Andy's hands were working again, he presumed, he could browse one of those nice things at leisure), one of Andy's big architecture books that weighted a ton in the bag, and some wonderful chocolates, because Brandon thought that someone recuperating always needed something sweet to eat.
He felt exhausted even thinking about all this, let alone hauling the entire load up the stairs, into the fancy lobby and then on the elevator up to the consultation floor after announcing his presence. He was going to have to meet with Doctor Ambergris first before they'd go and see Andy at the patient unit together. To ease up the shock, Brandon thought, but couldn't deny the cold nervous clench in his stomach at the idea.
This really was it...the time to face up to the fact that Andy was gone and there was a new Andy to see, a new body...at least mostly new. The doctor had explained that with humans and wolves sharing so many genes, they'd only had to replace a few percent, to create the kind of a body that was impervious to the gene fault that had caused Andy's illness.
Brandon's heart kept leaping. The idea that they'd beat the fucking thing and that whatever the cost had been, physical, emotional, financial, they might actually have a chance. They could see their 40th birthdays, respectively, together, hand in hand. They could make plans that didn't have an end point set at "needs hospice care" which would be a big obstacle on having any kind of fun.
They could travel. They could go out to eat. They could fall asleep together on each other's arms and have a good time. they could have a vacation, they could go to one of those places where they didn't bat an extra eye at someone being a... a fanger?
Thinking about that made him even more nervous. He might've been used to still getting the occasional weird glance at the fact that his partner he walked hand in hand with was a man. Having a...a fanger as your companion was like the latest social injustice to experience, to fight over, to get angry about.
Fuck everyone else, he thought. If someone set up a Fanger Pride, he'd go and walk in it if it'd take that to convince the world that he loved Andy, whatever amount of fur there was.
"Doctor Ambergris will see you now."
Brandon almost dropped the bags he had in his lap when the nurse spoke to him in such a courteous tone, with her perfect smile, impeccable lipstick, shoes, uniform, and that strange little hat.
"Okay..oh...okay, thanks."
"Right this way, Mister Collier."
The office was exactly like he remembered it, but Doctor Ambergris seemed...different. His mane appeared unkept, lacking in shine and with stray hair pointing in various directions. He looked tired, in the very strange way that a half-man-half-lion person looked like, Brandon thought.
"I guess it's not a problem now that you don't shake hands, doctor?" Brandon smirked wryly, displaying his load of gifts.
The white-coated lion barely smiled.
"Good morning, Mister Collier," he said, "would you sit down, please? We have something to discuss before we go and meet your partner."
"As I expected," Brandon said, "though I am very eager, as you can imagine."
The lion's ears flicked sharply. Brandon wasn't sure what that meant. He just wanted to get this talk over with before they went to see Andy. This was probably just a courtesy, to give the patients the impression that they really cared here. It'd be likely peppered with technobabble that he wouldn't have the slightest chance of understanding, but if it made the doctor feel happy, he'd let him. As long as he'd be let to see Andy soon.
"Yes..." the lion said, paws folded together in front of him on the desk.
"So, how is he?" Brandon asked. "Anything new since I called in the morning to check up whether I can come today like we agreed?"
"Ahem...no...no, actually, Andy...Andy was sleeping at the time," the lion doctor replied. "No need to wake up that early...but Andy is awake now and in his...in the room."
"How is it going for him?" Brandon continued. "You said he's had some difficulty adjusting?"
The lion adjusted his tie while smacking his lips.
"Just a typical response to the procedure, the brain essentially becomes quite supercharged and needs some time to calm down before normal thought processes...resume."
"I sure hope he's alright, though," Brandon said, "has he been very anxious?"
"Eh...well, technically, not much...there has been a sense of elation, of course, due to his new...state, and because of the chemical imbalance...so it is a mercy, in a way...it stabilizes, eventually, with time."
"Well, I guess that's good then," Brandon spoke. He felt uncomfortable, hearing that. He might've just been an observer, but to think about Andy going through all that, alone in a hospital, with all the equipment and tubes and the staff and in a literally new skin...
"Yes, all things considered, Andy is coming through well..." the lion said, "quite well..."
Something about him was off. Brandon didn't have to be a psychological genius to see that much.
"But is there something else?" he blurted out. He wasn't about to beat around the bush.
"Mister Collier - "
"You're not looking me in the eye," Brandon grunted. "You're hiding something from me."
The lion appeared tense. Brandon found the notion ludicrous, but couldn't deny it. He knew what he saw.
"Unfortunately, something did come up with the...with part of the procedure, that has caused some unforeseen complications with the process of...recuperation."
Brandon sighed. His eyes began to burn.
"Is he okay?" he hissed.
"Andy is alive and well," the lion said. "Some things, however..."
*
Andy studied her paw intently. She pulled a fist, flexed all the fingers out, did a loose fist again, and then put the paw flat against her thigh. What a marvel it was, she thought, something between a human hand and a real canine paw, more like a human hand in function, but in appearance...there were pads, fur, claws...thick and malleable. He remembered the claws on the pet dogs they had at home, how they were...how you could bend them a little...and she'd done that to herself often enough already.
"Sp...sp...splendid," Andy mused.
She sat on her haunches on the bed, dressed in a loose gown tied from the back. Once her skin had stopped itching like fuck, she'd opted for dressing something, even though it felt so awfully unflattering, and fell open from the back so that her ass would show if she tried to bend over. You couldn't even see the curve of her bosom, not really, with the cloth hanging off her surprisingly broad shoulders. She might've been all girl, but she was not a small, dainty lady. Having huge shoulders was probably the least of her worries at the moment.
Andy looked at her paw resting over her thigh and smiled a little at the fact that it'd been there for a whole of 20 seconds and she hadn't had the compulsion to move it. Perhaps her brain was finally starting to get down from the hormone high that'd been making it impossible to stay put.
It was starting to be easier to think, too, and that wasn't quite as pleasing as the fact that she possessed two hands that were neither paralyzed nor made useless by Parkinsonian twitches and tremors coursing through them because of her brain being overcharged.
Her brain.
What Andy felt was beyond confusion. Andy knew that Andrew Laurie was a man, but he didn't feel like a man. Andy wasn't sure what it felt like to be a woman, either, but it was distinct from being a man, even without the fact that she had perky breasts and a pussy.
And it was a fun pussy, too. She couldn't stop playing with it, looking at it, just...squeezing her thighs together occasionally to see how that felt like - fantastic how one could do that without anyone noticing, unlike the copping action of a hand on balls or dick that all men went through every day as if checking up if they were still there. She wondered if all women felt like this all the time, all tingly and...funny.
Her tail snapped against the bed, furs ruffling over the luxurious, expensive sheets. She was shedding quite a lot of hair, she knew, there were little black and grey and white strands sprinkled across the bedclothes. It must've been another sign of being...brand new in a lot of senses.
"Gonna...havvve to...like...vacuuming...a lot more...than befff-ooore..." she stated with her stiff lips. The previous twitching had turned into a kind of a wax-like state that made it somewhat difficult to express herself. Her thought seemed to be moving at a regular enough a pace, however, though their content was usually quite bizarre, such as contemplating her breast size. Feeling them up on her paws hadn't really helped her solve that puzzle. She wondered how women got them fitted. Did you have some sort of a machine, or did someone cop a feel to decide on what size to wear? Would men or women do it? Were men allowed to do that kind of a job anyway.
She was thirsty. There was an unglamorous plastic pitcher and a cup with two handles and a lid on it, like something you'd give to a baby to drink from, someone who'd just learned to grasp something. The water in it was stale and almost room temperature after several hours in the pitcher. The room felt very warm. It was a bit too brightly lit for her new eyes, too. She didn't dare to go to the windows either. The light felt bad on his eyes and something about seeing the real world outside the building made her feel apprehensive. It was a world that faced 'fangers' with curiosity, fear of the unknown, hostility, amusement, even. All those swinging tails and big teeth and coughing up hairballs and that footballer on all the talk shows showing off his new canine body.
She didn't think that'd be too much of a problem. She didn't feel like licking herself. She had rolled on the bed, though, and shed so much hair...even worse than her tail throwing it around into the air behind her.
Andy hobbled onto her bare paws, took a moment to steady herself to fight the strange swooning sensation in her head that it caused, getting from sitting down to standing up. She didn't have to grab the side of the bed this time around. She barely noticed. Being able to walk even after a fashion was like...well, her brain conjured very poetic imagery and terms the previous night through, but the memories were fading fast. Right now she just felt happy and glad about the fact that her legs were no longer a pair of twisted, painfully spasmodic sticks that mostly hung off the edge of her wheelchair.
That'd have to go, she thought, the chair. It'd be just sitting on the corner now, wouldn't it be? Good grief! She'd have to remodel the entire house. She might've been more concerned about walls and beams, but she could break out a good colour palette as well, combine a few shades into a nice system. They'd have to get fabrics and paints and pillows and a new couch and she'd need a new desk and a -
Her extra sensitive ears picked up sounds from the corridor outside. It was like...in her mind, it sounded like murmurs, but amplified. You still couldn't make out what they were saying, but it was loud. Steps, too, kind of a very hard to describe vibration she could feel on her pads.
"MISTER COLLIER!"
"OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"
Someone pounded against the door. Andy's ears bounced back.
"MISTER - "
"RIGHT NOW!"
"MISTER - "
Brandon...
The door opened and a very angry, very flushed Brandon Collier rushed into the room. He managed a couple of steps before his wild eyes found the sight of the dark wolf standing by the bed in her white gown.
"Mister Collier, please!" the pleading voice of Doctor Cornelius Ambergris entered before the harrowed lion squeezed himself into the hospital suite. The lion looked like a street cat by now, Andy thought at the sight of the previously very regal physician who definitely had let his grooming habits go.
But Andy wasn't really bothered by Doctor Ambergris. She was staring at the man who was staring at her. Andy's heart swell. He looked even more handsome and masculine than she remembered. Strange, that. It might've only been a few days, but it seemed that his image in her mind had already faded. He looked so wonderful, even if his face was furrowed with worry, obvious anger, and many things that weren't named.
At least, Andy saw, and felt overwhelming relief for, there was shock and fear, but no disgust over his concerned face.
"Mister Collier, I'm sure if we talk more - "
"Hhey, Brandon," Andy husked, "Y...you c-came.."
"What did they do to you?" Brandon yelled.
"I...I don't know..." Andy whispered. "But...look at me..."
Her tail twitched. Her fingers curled.
"Look...at me..." she repeated. "I'm...standing...I'm..."
She lifted her paw and touched her face.
"I'm...I don't know this body yet but I...I..k...k.know...that I'm not...t...trapped in it...I...I'm...alive...B-Brandon..."
And he was still staring at her, unable to formulate words to describe what he felt.
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Thank you for reading! Hope you had an interesting time, and I look forward to your comments!