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A Biased Opinion

Written By: Skabaard

This. This was why she hated dogs.

Her new neighbor's pit bull was braying incessantly at a stray that had been roaming the suburbs for more than a week now, and she had been rudely awakened from her beauty sleep for the second time this night. The clock on the table next to her bed read 2:47 in angry, red numerals, a reminder that she would have to be up for work in less than four hours. Her housecat, a tabby named Rikka that she had adopted from the shelter as a kitten, hopped up onto her squat dresser to meow forlornly up at her. "You up too?" she grumbled, "I'm telling you, someone's got to do something about this unholy racket. It's getting ridiculous."

Rikka meowed in agreement and dropped back to the floor to follow her through her living room and out onto her miniscule balcony. She looked out at the source of her ire and silently fumed. The stupid beast was driving itself mad, running in wide circles around her neighbor's fenced-in yard and yapping mindlessly. She sighed heavily. Disgusting animals, wallowing in their own filth their entire lives. Pigs lived more noble lives, not to mention being far more appetizing.

The cat with whom she shared her home clearly shared her opinion, disdainfully flicking her tail as she stepped confidently along the railing lining the balcony, tracing the border between safety and a two-story fall. She just grinned and ran a fingernail under Rikka's chin, scratching affectionately. "I'm sleepy, kitten... maybe a little grumpy. Maybe I should just... take a walk, calm my nerves a little. What do you think?" She was answered with a placid meow, and Rikka hopped down to twine around her legs, purring warmly. "Yeah, I think that's a pretty good idea. Get in a nice stretch."

She peered up into the star-speckled sky, watched the nearly-full moon hang pendulously over her. The firmament was a patchwork of hazy clouds, but there was a more-than-ample amount of wan, silvery light for her needs. She really didn't need any, but it made the process easier, less straining on her mind and body. Taking a bracing breath, she leaned forward against the railing, letting the light wash through her short, pale brown hair and over her upturned face. It felt warming, despite the faint chill of night that hung in the air, and she let the heat kindle within her chest. It sparked to life in her heart, and it blossomed with every rhythmic beat.

A shaky breath left her lungs as she forced her eyes from the ghostly disk that burned low in the sky. There was something so entrancing about it. It called out to her on nights like this, when it was dark and quiet, when there was a cool breeze and she felt so restless. She broke out in a clammy sweat as her innards heated rapidly. Thin needles of liquid silver inched along her veins, fed by her desire mingled with the cold light that washed over her, and as her heart drummed a quickening beat against her ribcage, the needles thickened into bars of scorching fire that left her limbs quivering anxiously. Though she didn't struggle to pull in her next breath, her chest felt tight. Her arms and legs were tense, like she needed to stretch, to move, to run and jump and work herself.

Instead, she stayed where she was, leaning more and more heavily into the railing as the sensations only grew more and more insistent. Sweat beaded on her face and made her gauzy nightie cling to her body as she boiled within her own skin, and the breeze only further accentuated the differences in temperature between her and her surroundings. She dug shaking fingers into her top and yanked it off over her head, throwing it back into her house behind her with a disdainful flick of her arm. Shivering as the moving air gently kissed her bared skin, she looked down at herself. She watched moisture gather and roll down her womanly contours, and a pleased grin came to her unbidden as she gazed down at the modest curves of her unhidden breasts.

She showed her inner excitement with natural enthusiasm. Her nipples were firm and erect, poking out into the night air and pleading to be touched and ravished. She ached. Her chest, between her legs, a little spot at the base of her spine, they all tingled with merciless vitality, and it required the utmost of self-control to keep her hands clamped down onto the metal railing before her. The anticipation always made the final climax all the sweeter. Rather, she peered down the length of her form, holding a snapshot of her appearance in her mind as she was in that moment, hot and eager. She took care of herself. She was lithe and trim, with perky breasts and a full, taut backside, attractive, but she wasn't shy of admitting that she was a tad too average to be much more than that, attractive. She wasn't beautiful. Not yet, but soon.

The thought of it happening nearly pulled her hands down below her waist. She latched onto that desire, took it in and planted it in her very center. She lost track of whether she fed off of it or it off of her, and knew that she no longer had any hope of turning back. She winced at the discomfiting sensation of her organs shifting in her gut and the soft popping of her tendons as she rolled her arms in their sockets in preparation. The tightness across her torso spiked, and for a time it felt like her ribcage would just crumple beneath the pressure, but it held defiantly. Rikka meowed at her, leapt casually onto the little table on her balcony, and settled into her haunches to wait and watch.

She hissed out a sharp breath, surprised it wasn't smoking from the heat that seared her chest, and pried a hand off of the railing she used to take her weight from her trembling legs. Bestial instinct combined with burning pleasure and seething discomfort wanted to ball her fingers into desperate fists, but she resisted, held her hand open as she watched, breathlessly, as her fingernails creaked and deformed before her eyes. They bulged from their beds, pinching inward toward their tips as they took on a clean, ivory hue. They curved inward just enough to proclaim their intended use, and she swiped her lengthening claws through the air as she slammed her hand back to the railing. The wicked little points scratched lines into the finish, adding another set of marks to the ones she had left from previous nights, and the sound of sinews shifting with wet, meaty pops increased in volume as her fingers crackled and pushed further from her palms.

She clenched her teeth, staring down at her mutating form with a feral grin. Her entire body throbbed with harsh, piercing euphoria. She felt it in her bones and muscle, aching sweetly, everything twisting and moving, preparing her. Her skin burned, prickled with wave after wave of bristling numbness that crashed through her. As her palms creaked broader she tightened her grip on the rail of metal that supported her weight. The backs of her hands tingled with a furious pins-and-needles sensation, and she watched, her manic smile never faltering, as countless fine hairs sprouted from her otherwise unremarkable skin. A coarse laugh bubbled in her chest as she lifted her oversized hand, silhouetting it against the moon to observe the layer of warm, tawny fur as it inched onto her wrist and up her arm.

It only got better from there. Her legs shook beneath her, threatening to crumple under the weight of her rapture, but she resolutely held her ground, letting out an incoherent moan as she leaned deeply over the railing, throwing out her head and gritting her teeth as fur crawled onto her shoulders and down her torso. The sleek coat swept up her neck and onto her cheeks, and she grunted hoarsely as the delicate bones of her face crunched and deformed from within. Her nose flattened as it jutted forward, taking her jaws with it, and over the course of a few frantic heartbeats, she had an inch of bestial muzzle projecting from her skull. She gasped and ran her tongue over her teeth, which shifted in their sockets and filled the new space while lengthening into vicious points within her reshaping maw.

She couldn't help but continuously lick her lips, feeling her uninspiring features pop and shudder, surging from her increasingly inhuman visage with each second. For a moment she went deaf, hearing only the thunder of her heart in her veins and the sickening cracks of her bones as they splintered and took new, more intriguing shapes. Her ears slid further up her head, enlarging and tapering to rounded, concave points that filled with soft, sensitive hairs as her fur covered her entire head. Her hearing came back as abruptly as it had left her, and when it did, she could hear everything taking place at once with stunning clarity. There was the soft rustle of her new coat coming in further down her body, the continual pounding of the blood in her arteries, and her own barely-stifled outcries of delirious pleasure, but over it all was the cacophonous sound of her body surrendering to what was emerging from within it.

She had been cooped up for too long; it took everything she had to draw out the process, to savor it. The sense of freedom as she shed her humanity was intoxicating, and she wanted little more than to indulge herself, ravish herself with claws that continued to creak and lengthen as her hands mutated before her. The flesh of her palms darkened and toughened into resilient, feline pads, and she raked her fingers through her rich brown hair as she widened her stance and thrust out her bare chest, soaking in the moonlight that poured down to her from the heavens. It was a feral, primal energy, and as it inundated her, remade her, she welcomed it, gorged herself on it, and took everything it offered her.

She snarled up at the hazed sky and tensed her body, making each muscle stand out against her skin as if she abruptly took the weight of a car across her shoulders. She could practically feel it trying to bear her down, bend her, but she refused. She gasped as, with a sharp crack of crumbling bone, her legs gave. Knowing what was happening wasn't enough to keep the fierce snarl from her throat as she slumped forward, gasping, and watched her delicate feet writhe and contort, as if in an agony that she couldn't feel. The same sandy-gold fur was making its way down both her legs, covering her thighs and calves, and as it reached her ankles, it gave them strength they so rarely knew.

Her perspective jumped as, with a crackling of tendons, her ankles relocated, grinding her shins to dust as her feet lengthened in kind. Her equilibrium danced, and she swayed as her weight was shifted to the balls of her feet. They toughened noisily, broadened, if only slightly, and as the last vestiges of her skin hid itself behind a fur that glimmered in the moonlight, thick, alabaster claws erupted from the tips of her toes, scything downward into the balcony before, with the relaxing of fresh, new muscles, they retracted back into hidden sheaths. Sturdy pads to match the ones on her palms bulged from the bottoms of her toes and the balls of her feet, and she shifted her weight from paw to dainty paw with practiced ease.

Before she could enjoy her new digitigrade stature, she hissed at an ominous cracking that manifested down the entire length of her spine. Immense, boiling pressure built beneath her skin, beginning along the center of her back, and though it remained most insistent there, it spread, over the course of but a few terse seconds, through the entirety of her body, sinking down into her tissues and threatening to blister her with harsh, throbbing heat. She leaned deeply forward, thrusting back her lush rump and presenting the breadth of her nude front to the moon, and as she mewled breathlessly, she felt, alongside a sudden crack that sounded like a meaty, muffled gunshot, a few inches of stiff, new growth slide down from the base of her spine to push out between the upper slopes of her luscious backside.

She humped the air with long, quick undulations of her spine, and with each flex of her lithe body, a little more tail crackled and burst from her reforming frame. Fur covered it as fast as it could grow, and it stayed smooth and slender as it began to flick energetically through the air, batting playfully as if it was an entity entirely separate than the increasingly feline woman who moaned with each breath she could get into her lungs. Her tail grew longer than her legs, swatting against the shaking limbs and occasionally curling coyly around one, and her face gradually finished taking its catlike shape, complete with a set of pale, white whiskers. Lengthy fangs filled her mouth, accompanied by twin rows of sharp, predatory teeth that clicked together as she gnashed them and groaned in the depths of her throat. Her ears twitched wildly, letting her listen to herself as she quivered and whined, but she knew, from experience and by the magma that still seared her veins, that she was far from finished.

Her fur stood on end as more and more of the disastrous energy flooded into her body. She couldn't stop the changes now if she tried. She could feel herself being pulled along by the current of the tumultuous rapids that washed away all traces of potential restraint. With each beat of her heat, parts of her fur began to darken, as if her skin was leaking pitch black ink. All along her arms and legs, down her back and across her shoulder, her sleek, glossy coat was pattered with an intricate collection of swirling, splotchy rosettes. As if to counter the darkening of her fur elsewhere, the fine hairs that covered her front, from the curves of her breasts to her engorged nethers, paled, losing color until it took on a pallid, whitish hue.

When the rest of her leopard-like patterning came in, she stared down at herself, watching her hands open and close into desperate fists. Her tail had ceased growing, but tremendous pressure still strained at her body, like something was trying to stretch her out. It pushed at her from within, spiking in intensity each time her fluttering heart pounded against the inside of her ribcage. "Come on..." she growled. The desire to prolong her shift had long since been obliterated by the rapture tearing at her rational mind, and she now just wished for more, more of the overwhelming, volcanic heat, the insane power and pressure, the intense, mind-breaking pleasure. "Come on!" repeated the wereleopard venomously, "Give it to me!"

Her demands were coarse and incoherent, but whatever force was fueling her transformation must have understood her, because its response was as brutal as it was immediate. Her nearly orgasmic scream was stolen from her lungs by a spasm in her diaphragm that was caused by her spine suddenly and forcefully elongating. The air left her chest in a short, tense grunt that fell an octave as she shot up an inch in height. The abrupt change was mirrored in her legs, and each bone creaked and surged longer in turn, pushing her upward as she blinked in wide-eyed bewilderment. Every shift shocked her with its ferocity, and this one was no different. Her enflamed sex pulsed between her legs, enraged and ignored as her palms cupped over her breasts. Each soft, plush mass burned in her grip, and as her increasing stature stretched her longer and broader, her usually modest chest was hit with a double dose of transformative fire.

Nimble fingers pinched at her turgid nipples as they throbbed and swelled, puffing up with the same raw, liquid energy that caused her unimpressive mammaries to surge into her hands. She struggled not to cry out. She wanted to scream out her pleasure, to make her rapture known to the universe, but instead she moaned and whimpered and toyed with herself as inch after slow, pulsating inch pounded onto her slim frame. Each throaty groan of bliss rumbled from deeper in her chest, first dropping an octave, and then two, as her vocal chords stretched with her. Slitted, feline eyes, now shining a hungry gold in the moon's glow, threatened to roll back into her head as she filled out and up, pushing into her hands more and more. Pillowy flesh squished between her fingers, soft and supple, and she spasmed and grew, wishing desperately for another pair of hands or a willing set of lips. She wanted to be licked and lavished with the worship she deserved, and she did her best to give it to herself.

So focused was she on enjoying her swelling feminine assets, she nearly missed the dull, fiery ache that took root in every fiber of her being. Surprised and distracted, she pulled a hand away from her chest, staring down at the limb with zealous impatience. It rushed through her again and again, spiking deeper and deeper into her with each thunderous throb, and her body began to tense with each rhythmic pulsation. Her lips peeled away from her fangs in an animalistic grin. She was no willowy cheetah, to be blown away on an errant breeze, and her body finally began to reflect her true nature.

She didn't yet have the willpower to pull her other hand away from her still-ballooning breasts, but she stared down at her arm, watching the muscle that lined it bunch and writhe under the strain her body forced upon it. A series of rough, staccato pops sounded from her overstressed tendons, and she watched each bundle of fibrous, bestial strength bulge as she flexed them against one another. A low, purring, "Yes!" vibrated within her lungs as muscle heaved up along her slim physique. She hissed and grunted as her arms thickened with harsh, twitching throbs, each coming alongside the beats of her heart. She could see the occasional vein rise into prominence even under her fur, feeding her bulging form the fire-heated blood it needed, and she urged it on, growling for more.

Her shoulders tightened under the strain of her growth, and she strangled off a sharp yelp as her torso broadened abruptly to a chorus of cracking bones. The sheets of trim muscle that covered her deepened, grew denser and hopelessly powerful. She finally tore away her other hand to lift her arms up, curling them inward as she forced her biceps up into smooth, feminine mounds that gradually blossomed larger, harder beneath the softness of her silken coat. Her pectorals stiffened and gave flawless form to the swaying, alluring teardrops of her burgeoning breasts, and the elegant curves were bordered from below by a rigid six-pack that stiffened into existence along the length of her tapered abdomen. She spread her stance, making room for her thighs to bulge, etching as she watched with definition that spoke of steely firmness.

She flexed harder and harder still, watching her bust consume more and more of her vision as muscle, thick, immutable muscle that looked to have been carved from stone rose up beneath fur that couldn't hope to hide the contours of her powerful body. Her pelvis creaked and widened to make room for more, and more still. She bucked wildly against nothing, aching for even the most tantalizing of contacts. Inches surged onto her thickening frame, and the breadth of her shoulder and girth of her womanly hips made her compact, cobbled waist seem even more eye-catchingly slim. Her calves turned to diamond, and she twisted her legs, watching in awe as the muscle shifted beneath her furred hide. Each smooth outline bent with ease that belied her surging bulk, and as she surpassed seven feet in height, she laughed, no longer caring overmuch who would hear her glorious euphoria. Her voice was rich and deep and smooth. It demanded the attention of all who would hear it, and still she continued to grow gaining more and more as she drank in the glare of the moon that burned her flesh from above.

The ceiling of her balcony was low, and she quickly had to duck her head. While she growled and gasped through the strained grunts that poured from her bulging form, she was struck, as always by the absurdity of her life. She pressed her shoulders upward against the confining roof, threatening it with strength that would have torn it to pieces with only a modicum of effort. Her fangs were bared, and she couldn't keep her tongue in her mouth, off her lips, the teeth that gleamed in the garish glow. Before she could finish her dire metamorphosis, she fled her shrinking space, easily vaulting over her puny railing and landing with a heavy thump on her paws two stories below. The impact bent her, and she rested her hands on the grass of her lawn, watching, waiting. Her growth slowed, she watched it dwindle as she took all she could from the moon above, from her vicious, bestial potential. She panted, crouching, still creeping taller, thicker, stronger, until it eventually ceased. The supernatural flames that had roasted her from inside sluggishly died away, replaced with the more natural, pleasant warmth of a body that demanded to be used.

She chuckled and rose to her full, intimidating height, straightening her spine and lifting her massive arms up over her head, reaching out to the moon, beckoning in thanks. She stretched already loose, prepared joints, swinging her arms around and bouncing atop her padded paws, grinning maniacally down at her true, beautiful, bestial body. It had been ITALICTOO long. Her hands brushed along her curves, the swells of her heavy, moon-ripened chest, tweaking and teasing at her nipples. She felt how hard she was, how soft she was, and how utterly ready she was. She sighed, the sound quiet and shuddering, and peered up at her home, at the balcony. Rikka stared down at her from the railing, and she opened her arms in welcome. The cat leapt down from to her, landing easily on the mound of her powerful shoulder before continuing to the ground at her feet.

She felt so good she almost forgot the impetus of her change, but she could smell it on the breeze that had never stopped, fear, bitter and acrid. She was too excited to remain angry, but she settled her face into a furious snarl anyway. Everyone got one warning. She bounced for a few steps before she leapt cleanly over the fence that separated her yard from her neighbor's, Rikka in tow. The source of her early-morning woes was huddled, whimpering, in a doghouse in the corner of the yard. Silently she padded across the grass, carefully avoiding any surprises that might have awaited her, before stopping before the annoyance's home.

After standing there for a moment, letting the impact of her presence sink in, she bent low, reaching into the doghouse and hauling its sole occupant out by the scruff of his neck. The sight that welcomed her was truly pitiful. The pit bull dangled from her immense arm, curled up and helpless, tail tucked between his hind legs, and whined at her, terrified. She just shook her head. "Yes, yes, very sad." she hissed, keeping her voice dangerously low, "Now listen. You're new here. I get that. Everyone's new once. I just need to inform you of some neighborhood rules, that's all. Most of them are fairly simple: no leaving gifts on my lawn, no terrorizing Rikka. But there's one that you really need to catch onto quick. There will be no interruptions to my beauty sleep, with no exceptions, and no mercy. Understand?" The dog whimpered and wriggled in her grip, but she held him there. "I know, I know. You were defending your territory. I get that. Some mutt out there's getting too close for comfort. I can respect that, sticking up for the hand that feeds you. I'm sure you're a very good dog, but you need to understand something. You need to do it quietly! At least past midnight, because there are people trying to sleep."

With a huff and a flick of her tail, she dropped the dog, who bolted back into his doghouse to more meek whines. "Now..." she added as she stalked away, "As a peace offering, I'm going to go share a similar word with our unwelcome visitor, okay? He won't be bothering you anymore, I promise. I want to be friends, I really do. I just want to do it during the daytime, alright? Between naps and baths. I'll be over later with a cake or something, and You had better be on your best behavior, because your owner is a real cutie."

She hopped back over the fence, returning with Rikka to her yard before she peered around, her sharp eyes slicing through the moonlit dark. The cat jumped back up onto her shoulder while she considered what she wanted to do with the rest of her night. "You're such a show off, you know that, right?" Rikka muttered.

She scoffed, "Of course I do. Some things need to be shown off a little, don't you think?"

"Of course I do." the tabby mirrored, "I just wanted to make sure you're aware. What now?"

She picked a scent out from the tangle that was carried by the breeze, canine, dirty, likely the stray that had been causing all the ruckus. Maybe she would try to track it down in the morning and take it to a shelter. She had a friend that might even adopt it. Until then, however... "We go hunting." she answered, "It's been so long since I've gotten in a good run."