Primitive Cottage
Jasmine stood there for a few moments, stretching her arms to collect herself. Looking down at herself she saw a tan underbelly studded with abs that ended when the tiger body did. Bringing her arms up she saw how defined they had become. While the wolverine body was beefy and huge, the tiger body was lithe and cut. Her paws were only slightly less massive, still wielding a strength no human could dream of. Flexing her fingers drew a terrifying array of long, sharp, white claws from the tips. It was fun just watching them go in and out.
But that was only one portion of her body, the “human” side. She looked over her shoulder again and saw the tiger half standing behind her, tail swaying lazily. It was like an entirely different animal patiently waiting for her to tell it where to go. She could feel all of it, and yet her mind had trouble recognizing that it was indeed a part of her. Growing a tail was one thing. Growing most of entire freaking tiger was another. She ran her paw down the top of it, her “back”. It felt like someone was touching her mid-spine, that someone being her. Even as she saw and felt her paws rubbing the fur, it was impossible to fully grasp that both parts were her.
“Her”. Is it even accurate to call her that anymore? She wondered that herself now that her breasts were gone, replaced by a nicely squared set of pectorals. She tried leaning over to the right and bending down (a very awkward maneuver in its own right) to see what was between her hindlegs, but she couldn’t get a good angle. However, the movement was enough to swing the set of organs she had hanging from her new pelvis, something she felt dearly. That settled it. She was no longer a she, and Jasmine was no longer Jasmine. Jared was back, baby.
“So. What am I gonna do now?” he wondered aloud in a voice deeper than it ever had been. He looked down at himself one more time to get his bearings straight so that he could learn how to move but saw something that stopped him dead. The living room carpet was gone, replaced by a hardwood floor. That wasn’t there before. He looked up to see what else had changed and realized that everything had. He wasn’t in his apartment anymore but had been transported to some rustic-looking building made entirely out of wood. The decorations were gone and so was the furniture. There weren’t any windows. Looking up he saw a conical roof made of thatch and crossbars. All that covered the floor were animal skin rugs that looked like they had come from deer or antelope.
“When-? How the hell did I get here?” He started turning around in place, his four legs scuttling beneath him to perform a 360. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, he was so focused on his new surroundings. The place looked like a hunting cabin, missing only a rifle rack and a cot to sleep in. It had a fireplace, albeit a crude one. In one corner there was another deerskin and some crudely hewn pillows, probably where he was supposed to sleep. Is this my place? Is this even an apartment?
He finally realized he was moving and came to an awkward halt. His legs were spread beneath him like a newborn fawn trying to get their legs beneath them. His tail twitched behind him manically, activated by the sudden alert mode. “How did I do that?” It had to have been muscle memory, like then he’d put the bra on for the first time as a skunk. In this world he’d spent an entire life as a tigertaur; the body knew how to operate it but he did not.
Chill. Just relax. Let your body do the walking. He took a deep breath and envisioned himself striding forward. You did it already. You can to it again. Come on. Just like that, his four feet began to move. They strode ahead seamlessly, one in front of the other, perfectly balanced. Jared simply delivered the command like he would with just two legs, and yet both pairs acted like he was controlling them both. He knew it was muscle memory. It would only falter when he thought too hard about it, something that happened a few times while pacing the cabin. He would make a few steps with his upper body gliding along with his hands held out to keep himself balanced before he would try and direct one of his legs a certain way and trip himself up
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 12 December 2023
