The Lady, or the Tiger?

Some days you want to curl up in bed and never, ever move again. And, that's fine. But, then, sometimes you need to just push. Push yourself to get up. Push yourself to roll out of bed. To brush your teeth. To follow the routine you've been following for years. There is a time and place for hiding from the world but, fuck it. Sometimes you gotta fight it.

And, yet, I still feel terrified. Standing at my front door. Purse in one hand, little lunch bag in the other. Staring at the door. Blank mind. Just. Staring. I could still call in sick; my work is pretty lenient about this kind of thing. I can feel my heart in my stomach, pounding away. I have to face it at some point. I have to push it as far as I can.

Before I can change my mind, I open the door and step into the warm, late Spring air. I shade my eyes against the sun and then head over to my old car. A little Camry my dad got for me as a graduation gift from college. It was old when he bought it and it's even older now but it runs and that's all I care about until I can afford a better one.

Look at me, distracting myself with stupid, mundane things.

Purse and lunch in the passenger side. Keys in ignition. Backing up. Driving away. All routine. Traffic on the Interstate, yelling at everyone getting in the exit lane just so they can jump back further ahead in the queue. Feeling the little anger bubble up but pushing it away.

I sneak into the office, smiling at a few work friends until I can hide myself in my little corner cubicle. It's a good place to work. Nice little mixture of honest, hardworking people and incredibly over-dramatic annoying people. I work in billing and there's already a ton of invoices and credit checks for me to run so, yay, more to distract myself.

Yes, yes it is boring. But, I like working with numbers. It's soothing in a weird way. I'm studying most evenings to become a CPA. Then maybe I can get a new car. Like, maybe a Camry that's only 6 years old. Living the life.

Phone calls. Emails. Chatting with people that wander past my cubicle.

I can do this.

Hiding a yawn behind a cracking jaw, I look at the little clock on my computer. Just a bit past three. I usually eat lunch late at my desk when it's busy and today's no exception. Honestly, I'm surprised my keyboard still works. I can see so many crumbs under the keys. I like to think bacteria are building a civilization down there. Maybe offering up sacrifices when I'm really clacking away. Trying to appease the... would I be a thunder god? Earthquake? Goddess. Whatever.

Movement catches the corner of my eye and I turn quickly. Just someone walking by unexpectedly. Nothing. Nothing unusual. And, yet, I felt a small surge of adrenaline.

I'm good. I'm still good.

I settle my black, tight ponytail behind me and lean into the spreadsheet I'm updating. It helps me focus. I need it because that little bit of energy just a bit ago hasn't left. I feel on edge. Winding and unwinding my legs together under my desk. My stockings whisk together whisk-whisk-whisk-whisk and, damn, I can't even remember what row I was looking at on this fucking spreadsheet.

"Hey Kris," Ben says, passing by my cubicle.

"Hey," I trail off, watching him walk away.

The smell. His smell. I can almost see it coming from him. My lips peel back and I tip my chin, nose and forehead wrinkling. Dark brown eyes dilating. I don't smell the air, I taste it. Pulling it into my mouth to savor it. Shivering. I can't explain it because I don't think I've ever felt this before. Never even... not even from before. It smells warm. Salty. A little sweaty. A little bitter. A little sweet.

My lips curl. I want to lick him. The thought just pops up. Licking the side of his neck with a wide tongue. I shiver again and rub my arms. My feet are pressed hard against each other. Thighs tight. I almost growl and, instead, breathe out harshly.

Bowing my head, I lick my lips, breathing deeply. Ben's scent nearly becoming replaced with the heady scent of my own excitement wafting up to me. This time I do growl. Almost. Kind of. It's similar. Rumbling deep in my throat.

Quickly standing, I make my way to the private bathroom nearby, locking the door. Staring at myself. Looking for changes. Leaning forward, staring deep into my own eyes. I can feel nearly every tiny hair along my arms. Clearing my throat with a rough cough (I can still smell him) I turn on the water, letting it run for a while.

Finger against my lips, pulling them back. My teeth still look fine. I think. I have never bothered to look at my teeth much beyond quick post-brushing until a few months ago.

My eyes. Dark brown normally but I watch a small golden streak appear in my right eye like a small crack. Heat rushes through my body from my toes to my ears and I gasp in astonishment. I feel it physically as a full body blush and my stomach clenches. Gasping, I bend, clutching the sink until my stomach relaxes. My face is burning and my ears are on fire. Looking up, more golden cracks shine in my eyes. I can't feel it happening. I also can't look away. I've never... I've never watched any of this happen.

Sweat drips from my hair as my eyes turn gold. Colors seem to fade slightly while everything takes on a slight blur. Like I need glasses. It's not bad but it's noticeable.

My blouse sticks to my sweaty back and I'm breathing quickly. Panting almost. Sweat rolls down between my breasts, soaking into the band of my bra.

And then, I gasp, biting my tongue in pain while falling to my knees. I can taste the blood but the pain in my mouth is nothing compared to the stabbing, scraping pain in my hips. On my hands and knees, tears forming at the corner of my eyes, sweat dripping to the ground, I lower my chest and raise my hips. Awkwardly. Half aware of what I must look like. The position eases the pain somewhat. Blood drips from my mouth. I can feel it now. The tips of my canines. Sharper.

The pain in my hips and lower back subsides to a dull, throbbing ache. I lower myself further, burning cheek against the cool tile, shifting my hips, rocking them back and forth. Spreading my thighs. Stretching my upper body forward until my blouse touches the ground. I claw at the ground before realizing what I'm doing. Grimacing. Groaning, I push back to my knees and sit on my heels. Something clicks quietly in my hips. I rock back and forth on my heels, feeling the little bone. Click-shift-click-shift-click. It feels strange but at least it doesn't hurt bad anymore.

Sighing deeply, I pull myself up to the still running sink. My brilliant golden eyes stare back at me. My lips bulge ever so slightly and, opening my mouth, I see the hint of my top and bottom fangs. Nothing that would send people screaming in a panic but possibly worth a double-take from anyone passing. The teeth around my canines are twisted to make room. No more smiling or talking today.

My ears flick as someone walks by outside the room and I instinctively sniff the air. Ugh. Seriously? Pushing aside my hair, I look closely at my ears. Are they pointed a little? Just a bit? I can't tell. But, pressing fingertips behind them, I feel something shift and move at the base of my ears. New bones or something that lets them move more freely. To focus on sounds.

I splash water on my face. And then again. The urge to just dunk my head is pretty damn strong but, instead, I just run wet fingers through my hair and down the back of my neck. I love the feel of water on me when I'm like this. Rather than drying my face off, I stare at myself again. It's mesmerizing. My eyes. My fangs. Something stirs in my lower belly and I breathe deeply. Ben's scent is still there. Fading but there. My upper lip twitches.

Is it enough? Have I pushed enough?

Still holding the edge of the sink, I lean forward, eyes closed and work my shoulders. They feel sore, as if I'd been at the gym. Muscles aching and stiff.

I stand, turning off the water. Mouth closed. Staring at myself. I'm not sweating any more and my blouse is starting to dry.

No. I can push further. I have to. I have to take control of this. Pain flares in my fingers and I hiss, making fists with my small hands. The joints are alive with pain, pulsing fiercely. A tiny stream of blood courses along the palm of my hand, too light to drip as it winds down to my wrists instead.

I growl. Deep in my throat. My ears twitch, twisting. Trying to pull back. My fangs are exposed. The skin behind my fingernails bulges slightly. A little more blood leaks from beneath them. The bulge moves forward and then stops. I open my hands, staring at my bloody palms. They're darker in places now. The skin under my fingers and palm. I rub my hands together slowly and they rasp and nearly catch.

I will push further. I'm still fine. Just a bit more.

Clear water turns pink as I wash my hands of blood. I towel off, drying my face and neck as well as my hands. When I feel presentable, I unlock the door and step out.

I'd hoped it was the bathroom that was making me uncomfortably warm but, even in the relatively cool air of the open office, I still feel flushed. With a quick glance around, I nearly run to my desk and settle in again.

I'll give myself another hour. Just that. An hour. And then I'll go and finish this out at home. That's fair. That's good. I fucking got this.

My typing is off with my bulky, awkward fingers now but that doesn't matter because I can't concentrate on the screen. It seems to be more blurry than everything around me and the colors are all weird and it strobes. Hurts my head a bit. Plus, there's so many sounds around me. And smells. Ben is in there somewhere and I can't help but breathe deeply to try to catch him again.

Small black and orange hairs push through my pantyhose, unnoticed. I scratch idly at the fabric, nearly slicing open the thin material with my nails.

More pain, similar to what I felt in my hands, erupts in my toes. Hissing through clenched teeth, I grip my desk and it creaks as muscles shift in my arms. Skin bulges and moves along my forearm and biceps and it feels like my arms are on fire. Lean, hard muscle forms beneath creamy smooth skin but I can't even feel it beyond the screaming pain in my feet. Seams in my flats strain as my toes bunch up. I can feel and hear the joints popping.

Slowly, too slowly to me, the pain seems to wash away. I'm sweating again. And panting. Tongue lolling out of my mouth. I snap up and look around, glad that my cubicle wall is tall enough to hide me. My toes bulge in the small shoes. I can't make them lay flat any more. I can't even feel the muscles needed to work the tips of my toes. There are runs in my pantyhose, just above the opening of my flats.

Dammit.

"...and... said...no..." I hear Ben say. My ears swivel to catch what he is saying but he works at the far end of the building. I shouldn't be able to hear anything that far away. Instinctively, I lift my chin and then higher, lips pulled back, baring my little fangs to try to smell him. I can't and I rock in my chair, frustrated. I've noticed him before, of course, and thought he was cute enough but that... scent. It's driving me wild. Literally. Just the memory of it is muddling my brain and making me press my thighs together.

Orange and black hairs slide through the skin at the back of my neck and I claw at them while scratching my feet along the ground. Something moved in my lower back. A forming muscle trying to twitch a non-existent tail in frustration and exasperation. I lick the back of my hand, dragging it across my lips to help calm me. The skin along my upper lip opens in a few places to expose the tips of white whiskers.

Fuck it.

Fuck. It. I'm going. Fuck all this should I or shouldn't I. I'm fucking going to him.

I stand and then place my hands against my desk to steady myself. The little muscle shifts again in my lower back. Uselessly. My feet feel strange and, yet, familiar. Familiar to a steadily growing part of me.

Padding through the office, ears flicking, I move with a purpose. Striding through the cubicles, fighting the urge to growl. I feel boundless energy deep within. My shoulders and arms ache and I flex my fingers, feeling the little sharp tips of claws hidden underneath my fingernails.

His scent is growing stronger. I feel it pulling at me. As if it had sharp teeth and nails and had dug itself into my belly, yanking at my core.

My nipples ache. Throbbing. Sending little shocks of electricity deep into my stomach.

Small black lines appear in my dark lips but go no further. Janice, from sales almost says hello but then blinks twice quickly and steps back, glancing nervously around before laughing quietly. Unsettled. Small primate brain confused at the predator stalking the hallway.

People are starting to leave. End of the day. I nearly snarl at a few of them before remembering where I am. It's getting harder to think straight. I should go. I should've been gone. A while ago. I toss my head, baring my fangs briefly in anger. At myself. At my change. At the world.

Claws slide from beneath my toenails, slicing through the soles of my shoes and digging into the short pile carpet. My feet ache again. Growing again. Straining against the shoes. I go to the balls of my feet in the next step. And then force myself down again. But, it feels wrong now to walk flat-footed. Unnatural. My lower back twitches again and I go back up. Walking on paws that aren't quite there yet.

My shirt is so tight. I have a brief, insane urge to tear it off of me. I almost do it. God help me but I almost do it right there in front of the dwindling office. The thought of being naked is exhilarating. Cool air against my burning skin. A single button on my blouse comes undone. The shirt pulls up to expose bare skin above my black skirt. I feel like something is tearing at my stomach. Knives. I'd be on my knees if I wasn't so intent on finding Ben.

This was such a terrible, terrible idea. I should've stayed home. I can't now. I know I can't. Light fuzz grows up to cover my ears. Nearly invisible black hairs lining the backs of the ears as they focus forward. I have to see him. It's driving me. She is. Me. I'm driving me. I want him. I want to rub myself against him. To cover him in my scent while tasting his. I want to feel his skin against mine. His fingers in my fur. In my hair. On my skin.

I'm sopping wet. I can feel the wetness against my thighs. Soaking my panties. Short black and orange hairs sprout along my smooth, hairless mound.

And then, he's there. Fingertip against his lip while staring at something. I know what it is. The thing he's staring at. It's a... a program. We all use it. Why can't I think of the name of it? I use it all the goddamned time. It's... it's...

I'm putting it off. God, I want to fucking jump him. I want to ravage him right here. I know I can't. Even now, I know I can't.

Black-striped fur grows along my breasts. It itches as it grows. I can feel it creeping down my belly just as sharp points of pinching pain forms along my sides. I groan quietly and twist my thighs together as milk ducts form beneath my stomach, a prelude to my teats forming. I want to touch them. To knead them. To twist and pinch them.

I want him to do it.

"Hello, Ben," I purr, moving closer to him. The back of my skirt bulges and I smile in pain, gripping his cubicle wall. The cheap metal groans beneath my powerful grip. My tail is finally starting to grow out.

"Oh, hey, Kris," Ben says, turning to look at me. His eyes dip down to my bulging chest before quickly flicking back up. He swallows deeply, eyes focusing on my own. My aching, hardened nipples are tenting my blouse. It pleases me - the thought of him admiring me. Wanting me. I laugh low in my throat and it comes out as a rumble.

"Could you show me something, Ben?" I ask innocently.

"Y- yeah, sure, of course. W- what do you need?"

I lean towards him. My skirt strains and another button comes undone in my blouse. I can feel my growing breasts sliding against the fabric, nipples dragging along the smooth shirt. I want to moan as I pretend it's Ben's fingers on them. I can feel the bare skin of my tail against my ass as it wriggles.

Ben turns to face his monitor. He's nearly vibrating in his seat. Eyes wide. Uncertain. Somehow both terrified and aroused. I lean forward, placing my right hand on his desk near his mouse. My cheek is nearly touching his and I can feel his body heat.

That. Fucking. Smell.

I close my eyes, groaning as I smell him. It makes my head spin. On top of it all, I smell his sex. The scent of his arousal. Salty and sharp. I look down and smile behind him at the bulge in his pants.

"K- Kris?" Ben says, still facing the monitor.

More fur sprouts from behind my pantyhose and the stockings strain. The black fabric pulls tight, stretching as muscles grow beneath my legs. I gasp and hiss, clutching his desk. Small tears in the stockings show short black and orange striped fur. The lines and ridges of my new, powerful legs vanish beneath growing fur.

Running a free hand along my belly, I can feel where my teats will grow. Pure black claws push aside my fingertips and I slice my blouse to reveal my taut belly, beading with sweat..

Ben shakes his head, confused at the smell of me. Sweat-soaked fur and my engorged sex dripping with my need.

Reaching for his hand, I accidentally cut him with my thick claw. He yelps, pulling his hand away but I'm quicker. I grab it from him in my rough, now-large hand. He looks at me and I hold his gaze. Slowly, bringing his hand to my mouth. My tongue laps out, wide and long and it rasps against his skin. I clean him while he watches, eyes wide, mouth open.

Unable to contain myself, I kiss him, my throat rumbling with my burning desire as our tongues twist together. He's trying to talk. Trying to push me away but I'm stronger than he is. Still holding his wrist, I guide him to my breast, pushing it against my skin. He tries to pull away once, twice and then relaxes. Ben's fingers, dig in almost hesitantly against my chest, kneading my large, furred breast. I growl quietly in approval.

Finally, we break apart. Ben gasps, breathing for air. Eyes still wide in shock. I can feel my tail sliding down my thigh. The smooth skin of the yet hairless tail tickles the patches of fur along my ass and thighs. The young man's eyes look down just as the side of my skirt splits, tearing under my growing body. It clings to me, exposing skin and fur and heavy muscles. Ben wipes at his mouth and looks down to see blood. My fangs are sharp and fierce and I tasted his blood and my own while we kissed.

Two tiny points form on my bare midriff. The skin puckers around the points and then twist to form small, pink nipples. Ben works his mouth in confusion and then grabs his stomach.

A single golden line appears in the young man's eyes.

"It... it hurts..." Ben gasps.

I sniff the air. His scent is changing. No, not changing. Thickening. Growing stronger. More him. Much more him.

I feel myself fading. My human side. Complex things like the computer are starting to lose their meaning. I know what it is but I couldn't explain it to you. What it's used for. How it works. I have to hurry. Before I'm gone all the way. I grab Ben and he stands, stumbling behind me. My foot cracks and shifts, lengthening, pulling at my toes until they're wide and thick.

Nearly running on my paws now, we make our way through dark hallways. Past closed offices. To the... place... the place where... things ... go. Put things. Store? Storage? Away. Away from people.