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The Cat's Meow

By Mistresschange

Heather had been driving home for what seemed like hours. A while ago it had gotten dark and, like clockwork, an accident on the highway had made her commute twice as long as it should have been. She was tired from a long day at the office and she had highway hypnosis from sitting behind the wheel, staring at red brake lights for too long.

Her car rolled in front of her townhouse and she parallel parked at the curb; her boyfriend, Thomas, would need the garage out back for his own car. She sat there and let out a long exasperated sigh before turning the vehicle off. Gathering her things she opened the door and stepped out into the cold December night air.

She closed the door and shivered at the sudden temperature change, hot breath streaming from her mouth in short-lived clouds. With her purse over her shoulder and her leather work bag in hand, she headed around the car to the house while her car's engine *tinked* away as it cooled. She hurried through the white picket front gate and up the short path to the front porch.

As she easily climbed the two wooden steps and made her way to the door, she absentmindedly searched her keys for her house key. Once she selected the right one she slid the key into the lock and opened the door, a rush of warm air hitting her, offering comfort and relief. She dropped her bags next to the door and kicked her high boots off, leaving them messily next to the other footwear. After hanging her coat up she shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, fatigued.

“Ugh, what a day." She sighed once more and pushed herself from the door supporting her back. Her stomach rumbled unusually loud and her hands went to her tummy. “God I'm hungry." She remarked to herself, walking down the hallway to the kitchen. She pulled an elastic from her pocket and tied her hair up in a long ponytail to keep her hair out of the way while she prepared some food for her and Thomas.

She was just about to open the fridge and pull the ingredients out for their meal when she noticed a paper bag sitting on the island countertop. The bag hadn't been there that morning and its presence made her curious. The brown paper material crinkled as she pulled it towards herself. As she peered into the bag she found it was half-filled with small, flat cans, each with a brass pull ring on the top. She plucked one of the cans from the bag and read the label. It read: 'The Cat's Meow, Deluxe Cat Food' with a picture of a white-furred cat with big round, happy eyes accompanied the name.

“New cat food? Thomas must have gotten this." And, as if summoned by the crumpling sound of the paper bag, their cat, Doug, appeared from the living room. Doug hopped up on the island and looked at his owner, a demanding *meow* letting Heather he was hungry. “Aww, hey Dougie, you hungry too?" She reached out and gave him a pet, his back arching up as her hand ran over his black fur.

Deciding to get Doug's meal over with quickly she pulled the tab on top of the can she was holding and peeled the brass-colored lid off. To her immediate surprise, the smell of the chicken like substance inside was not at all what she was expecting. It smelled like real, cooked chicken, seasoned and grilled to perfection. Looking more carefully at the food inside, she could see it even looked appetizing, like small juicy strips of a chicken breast. Her mouth salivated as she observed this strange new cat food.

“Man, I must be really hungry. Your new food actually smells pretty good." She commented to Doug, knowing full well he couldn't answer. She reluctantly placed the open can on the countertop and picked Doug's food dish off the ground. She emptied the can into the dish and slid it over to Doug, who happily picked away at it. Heather found herself licking her lips as she watched her cat gobble up his dinner, a strange sense of jealously building within her.

She gazed at the bag of cans again, a crazy idea brewing in her mind. That cat food smelled so good, it must have been very high quality and Thomas must have spent a lot of money on it. She pulled another can out of the bag, looking it over as she turned it in her hand. Her curiosity got the best of her and she pulled the tab, tearing the top off, she needed to make sure she wasn't going crazy, yeah that was it, just making sure it really was cat food, plus Doug could eat the rest so it wouldn't go to waste, he would love having a double dinner.

As soon as she opened the can the smell hit her. It smelled like perfectly fried chicken wings, the smell was so dead-on that she could almost hear the sizzling of the oil and could picture a waitress placing said wings in front of her, in a paper-lined basket. Her mouth salivated twice as much; she brought the can closer to her face and took a few long sniffs, the smell overwhelmed her and she involuntarily smacked her lips.

“God this smells good...I wonder...if it tastes as good too?" She absentmindedly pondered to herself as Doug continued picking away at his own food. She couldn't believe she was considering tasting cat food but it smelled too good not to. She'd try one little bit, yeah; just one little taste and she'd give the rest to Doug, and then cook her food. She and tom would laugh over it later when he got home.

Her fingers came down to pluck one little piece of the chicken chunks in-between her thumb and index finger. She looked the morsel over, bringing it to her nose to give it a sniff. She definitely wasn't crazy; it smelled the same as the rest. Heather hesitated momentarily, bracing herself for what she was about to do next. Wincing, she brought the morsel to her mouth and placed it inside, right on her tongue. She closed her mouth as her eyes went wide in shock. To say it tasted amazing would be the understatement of the century. It tasted even better than the best chicken wings she had ever had and she rolled the morsel around on her tongue, experiencing every subtle flavor before finally swallowing it, reluctantly.

Heather stood there, still wide-eyed at what she had just tasted. It was incredible, she swore it was the best thing she had ever tasted before, and it was just cat food. Her hand went back to the can, fingers pulling a much bigger piece from it. One more taste wouldn't hurt, right? Then she'd give the rest to Doug. She eagerly popped the piece of chicken in her mouth, the succulent taste hitting her once more, making her gasp through her nose as every savory taste bud in her mouth lit up like a Christmas tree.

She dropped the can on the counter, taken aback by the unrealistically exquisite taste in her mouth. Her hand went down to her dress pants in response to a funny tingling feeling developing between her legs. She once again reluctantly swallowed the terrific substance in her mouth. Looking to Doug, who was almost finished with his meal, she grabbed the can off the counter. No one had to know she ate a whole single meal-sized can of cat food, it would be her secret.

“Sorry Dougie, no extras for you. Your food...it's...really good..." she trailed off and pulled an even larger piece from the can and slurped it up, savoring its flavor, drawing a sultry *Mmmm*, from the woman. She ate another piece, *mmm*ing again, sounding more like a moan this time. Going back for another piece, she was disappointed to find she had finished the last of it. The can was only made to hold one meal for a cat and unsurprisingly did not hold much for a human.

“Hmm, well I guess that's It." she giggled at the fact that she had just devoured a can of cat food. Her tummy rumbled again, reminding her that she should get started on dinner, but as she went to the sink to wash her hands off, she couldn't take her eyes off the brown bag that held the other cans. Her gaze lingered on the bag and the wild thought of grabbing one more plagued her mind. Was it crazy that she wanted to try another?

“No, I shouldn't, it's cat food..." She tried convincing herself to just leave them be and make some actual human food, but an unknown voice in her head told her to indulge in another can. She pulled the side of the bag to her so she could peer down at the pile of cans within. She bit her lip as rationality and instinct fought for control, it didn't take much for her instinct to win out. “Just one more, then I'll start dinner." She tried telling herself, knowing the next can wouldn't be her last.

Heather pulled another can from the bag and vigorously ripped its lid off with the pull tab. The smell of Mediterranean spiced chicken hit her almost immediately, making her stomach growl and mouth water twice as much. Her eyes lit up at the tasty snack in her hand. She wasted no time scooping a fair amount of the chicken from its can and stuffing it into her mouth. Her *mmm*s were getting more sensual now, enjoying the cat food a little more than she should, but she couldn't help it, it was the best thing she had ever tasted. Two more scoops later she was left holding an empty can once more.

Shame should have been the feeling that washed over her but instead, she felt disappointed, so little to enjoy yet so delicious. She brought the can to her face and did the one thing she could think of to prolong her enjoyment of what was in the can, she stuck out her tongue and gave the inside a lick.

She licked every millimeter of the inside of that can, her eyes closed to focus on every morsel left in the can. Not that she would notice, but her tongue was not the same tongue she had when she entered the kitchen, it was rougher now, flatter too and it pushed its way past new elongated, feline fangs. What she did notice, however, was the intensified tingling feeling between her legs, as well as the feeling of her privates brushing against her satin panties.

When she could no longer taste anything more, she dropped the spent can on the counter and without thinking, pulled another from the bag. She repeated the same process as the last one, pulling the top off and shoveling its contents into her mouth, savoring the new taste and smell of chicken nuggets this one contained. Licking the juices out of the inside she tossed it onto the counter with the others; her privates craved the same licking.

One after another she cravenly consumed every can in the bag, her hand going to her groin to rub herself through her dress pants whenever it wasn't prying open another can. She franticly struggled to unbutton her fly so she could slide her hand under her soaked satin panties and into her pussy folds. Leaning her ass against the island, satisfied moans escaped her throat as she devoured one of the last cans of cat food. Who could tell whether the moans were from her hand diddling herself or from the pure enjoyment of the forbidden snack?

Doug padded over the counter to Heather. The black cat meowed at the preoccupied woman, probably not amused with his owner consuming all his food while he barely got any of it. Heather turned her head to see the cat, strange changes becoming more prevalent. Her nose had pushed forward a little, the end had become pink and triangular. Her nostrils and pupils had changed too, looking completely feline. Her ears had also moved to the top of her head, were triangular and covered in black fur just like Doug's. Whiskers sprouted from her face and shimmered in the glow from the light above her.

Seeing Doug, Heather hissed and barred her new feline teeth at Doug. The poor cat bolted from the big cat-thing in front of him and darted upstairs for safety. Both Doug's and her reaction quickly snapped her out of her cat food-induced trance. She took a step back in shock, putting her hand to her mouth. She gazed over the pile of empty cans she had licked clean and then down at her open pants and moist panties.

“Oh my god, what am I doing?" She looked over her hands in bewilderment, one covered in the juices from the cat food, and the other in her own juices. “W-what came over me?" She turned to the Kitchen sink and turned on the tap. She began washing her hands off when she noticed something about them wasn't right. She pulled them from the water to take a closer look at them. Something definitely wasn't right about them, something was oh so very wrong.

Her fingernails had disappeared into the ends of her fingers, leaving fleshy slits. Shakily bringing her other hand to pinch the end of her finger, she observed in horror as a new feline claw poked out of the slit, it was sharp and pointy.

She yelped in terror and looked up at her own faint reflection in the window above the sink. Her hand went to her face as she noticed the changes that had taken hold. She felt the new nose, the new whiskers, and the new ears. She turned and rushed for the bathroom, she needed to see more clearly for herself, she needed to know she wasn't just imagining things.

As the lights came on and her reflection came into view of the mirror, her worse fears were confirmed. She looked upon her reflection in horror, her new features stood out like a sore thumb on her distraught face. She felt her face again, now that she could properly see them, touching every inch in disbelief. Panic began to set in and she clutched the sink in front of her.

“How is this happening? This is impossible!" Her breath was picking up rapidly and she was close to hyperventilating. She needed to call someone, 911 maybe? She needed to do something! She hurried back to the kitchen, her cell phone still in her purse on the couch. As she made her way through the kitchen to the living room, she found she couldn't take her eyes off the pile of cans she left on the island; her new nose could smell all the different types of chicken she'd just consumed. Her mouth watered at the delectable smell and so did her sex. “This is because of the cat food. I should have known not to eat something made for animals. But this shouldn't be happening; people don't just change like this!"

Still, there were two cans left, and Heather couldn't take her eyes off them. Remembering how good they tasted, she turned slowly toward the bag and reached for one of them. “I'll just finish these off, and then I'll call for help."

She peeled the lid off the first can, smelling the sweet aroma of breaded almond chicken. Wasting no time, she devoured the whole thing in seconds, then, like clockwork, did the same to the last can, only slowing her consumption of the last to savor its taste, knowing it was the last one she'd be able to have. A purr rumbled in her throat as she finished the last of it.

Unbeknownst to her, a slim black tail was snaking its way down from her spine, poking out from above her dress pants. Once she had finished licking the last can clean she tossed it with the rest and leaned back against the counter, satisfied. Her hand crept back down to her pants, her panic and the urge to call for help melting away, becoming a mere afterthought.

“I'll just...take care of this and then I'll call someone." She reasoned, even though there was no reason to her thoughts. Some kind of animal consciousness had taken over as soon as she finished that last can. She yanked her pants halfway down her thighs, pulling her satin panties down with them. Using one hand to plunge her fingers into her snatch and the other to rub her clit, her head pointed to the ceiling, eyes closed as she purred in contentment.

As she touched herself her body shifted, sharp cracks and snaps accompanied the heavy purrs as her feet and ankles reshaped, her heels moving up her ankles, forcing her to stand on the balls of her feet. Her toenails narrowed, shaping into claws and pulling into her toes, just as her fingernails had earlier. She wouldn't notice these changes; she was too busy petting her pussy.

Heather could feel her face push forward with her new nose, she could both hear and feel the dull pops as her facial structure and teeth changed, whiskers growing longer, upper lip parting, forming feline jowls. She wrinkled her new nose, her long whiskers bristling about. In her mind, she had been fantasizing about Thomas as she touched herself, but as her body changed, so did her thoughts. Doug had entered them; taking over for Thomas, his black fur and piercing hazel eyes struck her in a way she had never felt before. As she imagined his feline stalking strut, she felt herself getting wetter, needier. She imagined him and her, both the same size; she imagined him circling her, smelling her. They'd sniff each other, ensuring they were a proper match. Then, she'd bend down low for him, sticking her bottom in the air, presenting for him, and finally, he'd mount her.

A rush of sensation hit her as she came, sticky fluids squirting over her hand and panties while also running down her thighs. An animalistic *Mmmrrrrroooowwwwww* let loose from her maw as she rode out her orgasm, fingers dipping through her clenching pussy.

As her orgasm waned, reality came rushing back into her mind. The noise she made when she climaxed, the intrusive thoughts about Doug, and, oh god, the further changes to her body. Panic began to set in again and when she tried to go for her phone she found walking more difficult, her new legs with their new joints and extra bones confused her. She tried in vain to take a few steps but ended up leaning on the kitchen counter for support.

Confused, terrified, and without her hunger or libido to distract her from this nightmare, she started to sob, tears running down her changing face and over her new feline jowls. She slid down the side of the island she leaned against, tears streaming down her muzzled face as she hid it behind clawed hands. What could she do now? Could she even still talk properly if she got a hold of anyone? She peered through her sticky fingers at her purse on the couch, remembering her original idea to call for help. She needed to at least try; at least she could call Thomas and tell her she loved him one last time.

In a last-ditch effort, heather slumped down onto her hands and knees and crawled towards the couch, it was only ten meters away, she could do this, even if she was transforming. Heather was making good distance, crawling on the floor was easy compared to walking with her new legs, if only the next change had held off. Halfway to the couch, she stopped in pain, unable to go any further.

Heather groaned in agony as her skin burned, it seemed everywhere her clothes touched this unbearable discomfort struck her. She pushed herself from the ground and stood on her knees. She shed her blazer and then her dress shirt, opting to rip the shirt off then use her new fingers to fumble with the buttons; the buttons in question spreading across the floor as they flew from the shirt.

She pulled her bra off next, an easy task as her breasts had shrunken two sizes since she had finished the last of the cat food, leaving her with A-cups. She was shocked, even in her pain-stricken state, to discover 3 more rows of nipples training down her torso ending just before her pubic area. She ran her hand over the extra nipples, gasping in pleasure, a momentary relief from the pain still burning her legs.

Ignoring her new nipples she kicked her already loosened pants off her oddly shaped legs, followed by her panties. Heather, now naked, felt the burning sensation dissipating, and a new one replacing it. Her hands ran over her body as it started itching like crazy, trying to scratch herself as best she could without cutting herself with her claws. She looked down at herself, expecting to find a rash or hives, but what she saw instead made much more sense considering her situation.

She kept scratching as she watched black hairs sprout from every spot on her body, coating her skin in a rapidly thickening hide, just like Doug's.

“No..." She whimpered, her silted eyes wide open as she watched her growing fur, which she was still furiously scratching. As the hairs thickened and elongated, heather felt more confident using her claws to really dig in and sate her itches. As she scratched herself she found the itches subsiding, the burning sensation being replaced with a warm, cozy one. She scratched herself now in revelry, purrs emanating from her throat as she enjoyed the feeling. Heather had to admit, her new fur was 'really' soft.

Her scratches slowed as she felt more content in her new fur-covered body; she had no idea having fur would feel this great. She took one of her furry hands off herself and brought it to her mouth, licking the back of it sensually and wiping it along her triangular ears. She giggled both at her silly new grooming technique and at the feeling of her blackened hair receding back into her scalp, becoming just like the rest of her fur.

Heather ran her rough feline tongue down the length of her arm; it felt so natural to clean herself like this, so good. As she licked at her new fur, her throat rumbled in satisfaction, purring at the new sense of cleanliness the tongue bath produced. As her tongue bath continued, she made a content *Meerrroooww*, feeling new leather-like pads growing on her furry feet and hands. She giggled again as she clenched and unclenched her hands, feeling her new pads, squishing around like little built-in stress balls.

Heather's giggles became joyful laughs, every change happening to her felt better and better, in fact, she felt better and better overall. What she had seen as scary and confusing a minute ago turned out to be pleasant and fulfilling! Maybe being a cat wouldn't be so bad? Maybe she was meant to be a cat all along? No more getting up early, no more boring meetings, no more hellish commutes every day, no more bills and taxes. Her laughter died down to load purrs as her vocal cords changed. Curious about her new change, she tried to speak, and to no surprise, the only sounds that left her mouth was a couple *meow*s. This no longer fazed her though, in her mind, it was just another stepping stone on the path to cathood.

She imagined Thomas petting her on the couch while he watched sports or a movie, not understanding anything about what was going on with the magic picture box, but loving the affection of her owner as his hands scratched behind her ears. She'd nuzzle her face against his hand and arm, letting him know his touches were appreciated. As she fantasized about her new life, her furry hand absentmindedly ran over her new nipples while the last of her breasts disappear, leaving her flat as a board. Her other hand was teasing her pussy, which was also changing, reforming into that of a feline's genitalia.

The exploration of her new erogenous zones would have to wait; her upper body fell forward and she needed her hands to catch her from hitting the floor. She purred as she felt her hips and legs reshaping, popping and cracking sounds mingling with her purrs. Her legs were finalizing their feline appearance and utility, her muscles tightening and strengthening, allowing her to run even quicker and make jumps and leaps she could have only dreamed of. Her feet lengthened and her toes shrunk, matching Doug's.

Her hips corrected themselves, becoming more accompanying of Heather's new legs but robbing her of her bipedal nature, forcing her onto all fours. A long, drawn-out, *meow* was all heather could say in the stead of “Yes, please keep going. Change me all the way. I want this so bad." Every new change that hit her kindled a new fire of excitement in her. This latest change had pushed her mind over the edge of flirting with the idea of being a cat, to absolutely embracing it. She loved being on all fours, it was the right way to be.

Her feline eyes closed and she arched her new body, stretching, making her new claws extend so she could scrape them across the carpet. When her eyes opened again the world looked different, not just because of her new eyesight but because she was shrinking. Feeling her entire mass shift slowly inward was the strangest feeling change yet. Her fur-covered skin prickled all over and a sense of what former heather would call 'the spins' washed over her as her perspective lowered down towards the floor. Heather panted softly as she shrunk; the dizziness of this transformation causing her to lose focus, unable to tell her torso was shifting with the rest of her body, becoming a bit longer and taking on the shape of an ordinary, properly fed housecat.

She stopped shrinking, her body stopping at around Doug's size. With the dizzy feeling gone, she took in her surroundings, everything seemed so big now. Her gaze moved down at herself, taking in her new body now. It seemed like her hands and hips were her only body parts that held a semblance of humanity, her fingers still a bit longer than a normal cat's and her palms still wider too. Her hips still held a trace of womanly curves and she swayed them sensually as her new tail swished back and forth.

Heather made an effortless leap up onto the couch; her new body was spry and able to perform amazing athletic feats for her size, being a cat was awesome! She purred and kneaded her claws into the couches fabric; something she would have scolded Doug for doing, something she couldn't help doing, it just felt too good not to. Her hands finally finished changing all the way while she indulged herself, fingers shortening and forming her new front paws. She stopped what she was doing to stretch, yawning as she arched her back and lifted her posterior. Her hips pulled inward, finishing off her physical transformations, leaving her one-hundred percent feline. Heather was now and for the rest of her shortened life, a cat.

As Heather's body finished its alterations, her mind followed suit. All complex ideas and concepts had vanished, the only thoughts she could still hold on to of her previous self were names of those she knew and a limited inner monologue. The rest had been filled with cat thoughts: feed, sleep, use litter box, hunt, claw scratching post, lounge, groom self, receive pets and scritches, chase red dot on floor.

Just then Doug hopped up onto the couch, his collar *clinking* at his sudden movements. Heather had been too distracted with her new self to hear him coming from the other room. When she saw him her heart beat faster, their eyes connected and another word popped into her head...mate.

Lights lit up in Heather's cat brain and fires started in her new loins. Everything in her new feline instincts was telling her to mate with the familiar male in front of her. She *mrrrroooowwww*d at him and circled about in place, facing away from him and lowering her upper body, presented herself to him.

The back door to the living room opened as Thomas came in from the backyard, having parked his car in the garage out back. He closed the door behind him and locked it, setting his briefcase down on the floor. Kicking his dress shoes off and setting his winter coat on the couch next to him. His eyes followed up the couch from his coat to the two black cats lying with each other, one with a collar and the other without one. He looked to the kitchen, seeing the pile of empty cat food cans, then to the floor, where Heather's work clothes were scattered. He smirked to himself and went to the new cat missing a collar. He picked this new cat up and looked into its eyes with a warm smile.

“Aww, Heather, did you enjoy Doug's new food? You know that food's only for cats." He scolded her mockingly. Heather responded to Thomas with a *meow* and he moved his arms to better cradle her. She purred as Thomas scratched behind her ears and stroked her face. She nuzzled his hand, enjoying his affectionate touches. “Have you and Doug been getting along?" he chuckled at his own question. While still cradling her, Thomas sat down on the couch next to where his briefcase was. Reaching into the case he pulled out a little pink collar and wrapped it around heather's neck. With a dull *click* the collars plastic buckle snapped together and Thomas turned the collar so its tag was front and center.

The name engraved on the brand new metal tag said: Heather. Thomas stroked Heather's back as he reached for the TV remote, flicking the wall-mounted screen on along with the cable box. A football game sprung to life on the screen and Thomas kicked his feet up on the coffee table. Doug walked over across the couch and laid next to Thomas, who gave Doug some attention of his own. He looked down at the male cat next to him as he purred at Thomas's pets.

“See, Doug, I told you I'd find you a mate. You more than heather know that cat food is too good to resist, right?" Doug purred as Thomas scratched his back. As Thomas sat there with his two pets he watched the game on the TV, a rumbling in his tummy told him he needed some food of his own. “I think I'll make chicken tonight, what do you guys think?"