Anthro Lioness
You look over the cotumes on display. "Why did I have to pick the female room. I like being male."
You look over your options. Mare,dog,vixen,she-wolf. And then you spot a lioness costume. You lift it off the hook and with a grinding of gears the other 4 costumes disappear. "Guess I'm committed now."
You take a moment to observe the suit itself. Quite oddly tan, definately built for the sahara, muscular in ways that you aren't sure you'd be able to fill out yourself. The bust size was large enough, you supposed. Being a male, it was difficult to judge, other than your time on sites you'd rather leave unmentioned, but you supposed a nice, tight little 'B' cup, for the first set anyway. You cringed, hoping you'd find some way to hide your feminimity, but with the gentle, progressing lumps of flesh, you knew that wasn't happening. And the hips were rather wide, you hoped simply because of some decent thigh muscle, but that was too much to hope. Not to mention the little peeking pink flesh of the thing proper.
You gulp as you strip, wondering how you got into this mess in the first place. the invatation to the costume party reminding you as it falls out of your pocket. Not having any more excuses to delay, you start to put the costume on.
You sit down and pull the costume , your legs sliding easily into the costume's thighs. The moment your feet hit the soft, bulging paws you feel them twist. Standing up you notice your on your toes as though wearing some fuzzy slippers and it is more comfortable than the awkward, artificial tightness of wearing shoes.
"Digitgrade costume" you say "Quite a comfy one too.". The tingles that started in your feet are now slowly moving up your calves. You reach down to scratch the soft, tightening, tapering bulge of your muscle and to your suprise you feel your hand brush over the fur, the calves underneath twitching gently, tightening like a runner's. You brush your other hand on the opposite leg, feeling the same, as if the fur was actualy your own skin. You quickly try to roll the costume down to stop it but the costume sticks like it's welded on, like iron, progressing almost gently up your skin, enveloping it in sensations you can't bring yourself to call uncomfortable. Completly against your will, the costume seems to be climbing further, as if magnetized to your body, inch by inch along your flesh. Your thighs seem to bulge gently against the fabric before seeming to settle into place, the warmth of the costume a bit startling as your hips seem to press out, the little muscles and nerves taking a moment to settle, before you can really move them. You look at the lithe, almost waspy configuration of your lower limbs before you feel the suit progressing further...
By now the tingling has reached your waist and you gulp feeling your waist stretch out to fill out the wide abdomen of the costume. You gulp as the strange series of sensations moves slowly towards the buldge in the front of the costume and before your very eyes it slowly disappears, as though your masculinity is being worn away, or pushed inward by a soft, fluffy hand.
By now the costume has reached your arm pits and you see the holes for your arms. Before the costume can roll over your arms, you decide to give in, to slip your arms into the costume just so something stranger doesn't happen, or so you rationalize.Even if you couldn't be male or human, at least you'd have the same general shape.
The moment your hands hit the hand paws the tingling starts there. Your finrgernails grow out into the retractable sheaths, becoming the claws of the costume. Also stretching are your fingers, out into the slightly puffy pads of the costume.
Another area of change has progressed to the lower pair of lumps in the costume's abdomen and you feel your body start to grow into them, pillowing behind the slightly hardened nubs of nipples. An image glances across your mind. You see, for just an instant, a pair of gently spotted heads, small and dark and similar to that of the costume. You feel some sort of odd swelling of pride for some reason, as though you figured they were your-
No. You shake your head. No way, you're not a female, much less a mother. The image dissipates, somehow, but you can't help but shake slightly....
.... Though another little blossoming sensation slightly higher on your torso seems to bring it back. Each time the tingling gets to another pair the image returns, but you do your best to deny it, to try and feebly reassert your masculinity despite your form's obvious appearance to the contrary. By now the strange tightening, warping feeling from your arms and torso have joined at the bottom of the neck. The costume having stopped It starts moving up, slowly but inevitably rolling up towards your head.
You spot a mirror and look into it. While it is reflecting you accuretly, suit and all, the background is of a veltd, the heat mirage seeming to shimmer, as though the glass were molten. By now your neck has been covered in the costume's folds, the rest of your form seeming to fit to the definitions of the suit.
The costume contiunes to roll itself along your neck, sliding softly where it joins the base of your skull. When it reaches your chin it rolls out over your lower jaw, seeming to solidify around it as you spot hard, white lumps, a strangle little cross of wide molars and jagged carnassials... You think, you didn't really pay that much attention in biology. It is a weird sight seing inside of the mouth, especially without a tongue or upper jaw, though it seemed to move in tandem with your own, somehow, bone fusing to bone, muscle squirming to join it at key points.
Soon however the top of the mouth has appeared and it is once again closed in, your sinuses making terrible cracking noises as the lower portion of your skull seems to extend from your face. Suddenly a wave of scents hits your nose, even the most mundane of scents suddenly overpowering, new smells you weren't even sure had actual names seeming to pop into existence alongside them. You felt slightly disoriented, but soon you seemed to make some kind of sense of it. You look one way and then the other before relising the transformation has reached your muzzle, causing a little dark spot to appear in the lower parts of your vision, acting as a khaki colored 'blind spot.'
You look into the mirror one last time with your human eyes as the costume rolls up your head. When your vision returns the reds seem slighlty faded, perhaps, that or you simply weren't seeing them quite as prominently. Either way, the hue seemed out of mind while the blue and the greens seem far more important, noticable, 'purer' somehow. You're not quite sure what it is, but even the slightest twitch in the bush seems to stick out in your sight. You blink, as though to rid yourself of the effect, but it stays, your eyes seeming to 'adjust' to the subtle change in your vision.
The 'fabric' slides over your ears, blotting it out for just a moment in a ruffle of skin and fur. Costume ears you thought would have just been cheap replicas flick side to side pinpointing various sounds like little radar dishes. The breeze itself suddenly had a sound, the grass rustling might as well have been trees falling, for a moment. When things adjust, you feel like some kind of sensory dynamo, hyper aware of your environment and personal space.
You look around and the mirror has gone, along with the rest of the room. Your now standing in what appears to be the background of the mirror. You're juxtaposed with the mirror for a moment, noting the breeze is flowing over your fur, until it simply fades from sight. You shiver slightly, your tail twitching as though to mirror your anxiety about your new form and setting. You glance around, shielding your eyes with a hand that seems too fluffy, too slender to be yours.
Written by Catprog + Sal_Lilith on 16 May 2012