Reality Hopping
In this story you can hop between realities following these rules:
No more then
- 1 a Day
- 6 a Week
- 20 every 4 weeks
- 50 every 12 weeks
- 180 every 48 weeks
These measurements are based on your home reality.
Your home reality is the one where you start your journey from.
When you hop to another reality you switch your mind with anybody who is there already.
If you hop to a different reality then your home reality from another reality then:
Reality 3 contains you.
Reality 2 contains the person from reality 3
Your home reality contains the person from reality 2
If someone dies then the person whose reality he/she home reality changes to that of the person who died. (Using the example above , if the person in your home reality dies your home reality becomes reality 2. If the person in reality 2 dies then the home reality of the person from reality 2 becomes
3.)
Written by Catprog on 22 August 2004
Alterntive Scenarios from Other Stories
This is for characters from the other stories in other scenarios.
Written by catprog on 21 February 2016
Costumeverse People
People in the costumeverse
Written by Catprog on 14 October 2017
Jared outside of Costumverse
Jared didn’t think much of the novelty shop the first time he saw that it had opened. All he saw were some goofy looking trinkets and gadgets hanging in the window, nothing that quite gathered his interest or delight. A deeper look through the front glass revealed nothing more than counters full of gag gifts and plastic toys, although he never quite took the time to look more closely than a brief glance. The only thing that really stood out to him was the name of it: Get it Here, emphasis the store’s. The way the word ‘it’ was so bombastically highlighted caught his eye, as if ‘it’ was the very thing he’d been looking for his entire life, whatever that may have been.
So he wasn’t bothered by the shop’s existence until one day he did see something worth his attention. Displayed in the front window, loosely draped over a porcelain mannequin was a black and white onesie. It wasn’t until Jared had passed the store completely that his brain registered what he had seen. He came to a quick halt, turned around, and stood in front of the mannequin for a closer look. Immediately in front of him was his reflection in the glass, face turned upwards. Most of the onesie was black, but around the torso was a tan oval like an underbelly. It had a hood pulled over the head. Semi-circle ears sprouted from the crown. A single white stripe ran down the center of the forehead. He saw through the legs a fluffy black tail hanging from above the onesie’s seat. His up-close inspection confirmed what he had thought: it was a skunk onesie.
It might not have been the thing Jared had been looking for his whole life, but it certainly demanded his purchase. His love for skunks carried back to his early childhood, something fostered by the creature’s unwarranted disdain by the public. He had always wanted to have one as a pet, but was withheld by state laws and his landlord’s pet policy. While this wasn’t the real deal, it looked pretty close. The fur seemed authentic and warm. It wasn’t something he thought he’d mind wearing on a cold night. Maybe it was odd for a grown man like him to purchase something so silly, but quite frankly, he didn’t care. He had to have it.
He waltzed into the shop at a brisk pace. The door opened to the jingle of a bell above his head. The proprietor, a tall old man with slick, white hair stood behind the counter. He was smiling at Jared with his hands clasped together on top of the desk. He had seen Jared staring through the window and fully anticipated his entry. “Hello there!” he said in a voice that reminded Jared of his grandfather’s. “How can I help you?”
Jared gulped. “Yes, um… I was wondering if I could buy the suit on the mannequin I saw?” He pointed to it. Looking at it from behind he could see how realistic the tail was. The double-stripe running down its center looked flawless, almost like a real skunk’s. He’d have thought it genuine if not for the seamless way the rest of the suit was pieced together. There was no way multiple animal pelts could be fashioned together so flawlessly.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 03 December 2022
Take the Skunk
The old man squinted his eyes at it. “Which one? You mean the skunk one?”
Jared felt a tad embarrassed. “Yeah.”
The old man smiled. From across the room Jared could see how cerulean his eyes were. “Perfect. I didn’t think I’d be selling that any time soon. I’m glad you showed up.” He walked around from behind the counter towards the window. He grabbed the mannequin and hoisted it off of its stand. Jared made to approach and help, but the man held him back with a polite show of his palm. “I’ve got it, son. Don’t worry.” He unzipped the front zipper. As he slid it off the mannequin, Jared wondered. Was that zipper there before? The old man cradled the onesie in his hands, which Jared noticed were conspicuously without wrinkles. “Yeah, this is a nice one. I worked extra hard on it. Wanted it to be as real as I could make it.”
Jared was afraid to ask. “What’s it made out of?”
The old man rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, trying to remember. “Ah, nylon? I think?”
Jared relaxed. “OK, that makes sense.”
The old man gave him an assuring look. “No skunks were harmed in the making of it, I promise you.” He brought it to the front desk and laid it out. As he rang it up, Jared ran his fingers over the surface of the suit. The old man said nylon, but nylon didn’t feel anything like this. This was coarse and scratchy, the exact same texture he’d expect on a wild animal. He’d never had the pleasure of petting a real skunk, but this was what he expected one to feel like. “That’ll be $35,” the man said.
That was cheaper than Jared expected, but he wasn’t going to complain. He pulled out his card and the man rang him up. “Can I, uh, get a bag to put this in?”
“Not ashamed of anyone seeing you with this, are you? There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“N-no,” he lied. “I just need something to carry it.”
The man nodded. “Of course. Let me get you one.” He reached behind the desk and produced a large paper bag. He neatly folded the onesie into a square and put it inside. With a gentle push he slid it towards Jared’s side of the desk. “Here you go. Have fun with it, Jared.”
“I will, thanks. Um…” Did I tell him my name? He remembered that he gave him his card. His info probably popped up there. “What’s your name?”
“You can call me Leland. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too, Leland.” He took the bag off the desk. It felt heavy, like there was a small animal inside of it. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. Until next time.”
“Yeah, see you.” Jared headed out of the store, clutching the bag’s strings tightly, Leland’s blissfully blue eyes still shimmering in his mind.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 04 December 2022
Other Apartment
He wasn’t in his apartment for more then five minutes that night before he was stripping down to his underwear so he could try on the onesie. It was laid out on his bed, awaiting his use. When he was down to his underwear, he picked it up and gave it one last look. So real. Nylon, polyester, whatever, it was perfect for making skunk fur. He looked at the collar and saw the zipper. It was small, which is probably why he missed it the first time. He pulled it down and split the belly open. He noticed that the inside was shiny like velvet, inviting him even more. With a giddy smile he stepped his foot into one leg, then the other. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled it up until his feet popped out the bottom. He wiggled his toes and rolled his ankles, loving how soft it felt against his legs. He stood up and put his arms through the sleeves. He zipped it back up, then finally flipped the hood onto his head.
Voila! He was a skunk. The soft interior clung to his skin snugly, tingling him with delight. He rubbed his bare hands over his tummy, savoring the outer softness. He could feel the tail hanging from above his butt. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve said it had bones running through it. But forget how nice it felt, he had to see how it looked. He scampered off to the bathroom and turned the lights on. He saw himself in the mirror, decked in that mephitine suit like a toddler on Halloween. An ecstatic smile split his face. He looked so cute! He turned his back to the mirror and checked out his tail. Oh yeah, it was perfect. He ran his hands down his back, noticing how snug the suit was so his skin. Funny, he remembered how loose it looked on the mannequin. Maybe it was way smaller than he was.
He turned his frontside to the mirror. He stood there with his arms akimbo, looking and feeling proud. There was no need to be ashamed, not when he felt so comfortable. He had found his new pajamas. Heck, it was a good thing he lived alone, because he definitely planned on wearing this thing as often as he could. Only when he cooked meals or had people over would he take it off. Oh yeah, and he would clean it of course. He loved it, but not that much. Something so special had to be taken care of anyway. Just as he thought of it, he realized with a rumbling tummy that he hadn’t had dinner yet. He grasped at his collar for the zipper.
There was nothing there.
He patted his hand around to confirm that the zipper he very clearly remembered using was gone. He slid his hand up and down his belly. There was no crease or stainless steel teeth like before, nothing but faux fur. He clawed, picked, and stretched the fabric across every part of it, including the front and back sides. There was no zipper. The first throbs of panic settled on his heart. He stared down at the suit and saw with his own eyes that there still was no zipper. Where did it go?
He had no time to formulate a theory before he felt the onesie tighten around his body like a bag being vacuum-sealed. His spine shot into a straight line. He looked at the mirror and saw that whatever slack the suit had was now gone. It had fit into the contours of his body, leaving absolutely no room in between whatsoever. Most alarming was the hoodie which had fallen on his head like the top portion of a wetsuit. He was terrified that the suit would continue shrinking and crush him.
But the suit was not shrinking. It was assimilating. He felt something tingle down his wrists. He looked down and saw the fabric lengthening down towards his hands like a living liquid spreading its territory across his skin. His wrists disappeared, then the bottom half of his palms, then his hand entirely. “What is this?” he screamed. He shook his hands frantically. It didn’t work. He shook them harder. Nothing happened. He shook them so hard that they nearly flew off by the joint. The suit continued claiming his hand until no skin remained. What replaced it was a thick cushion of fleshy padding where his palm had been. What felt like a tugging sensation on the very tips of his fingers was his fingernails sprouting into long, white claws made for digging.
He felt a pressure on his feet. He looked down and saw the same process happening to them. What had been a tightening of the suit was now more like a physical melding. Flesh bonded with fabric. The cells of his skin melted and fused with the velvet liner. The hilt of the skunk tail drilled into the base of his spine. He wasn’t wrong when he thought it had bone inside of it. He knew that now that it was latching onto his vertebrae and rendering the tail a part of him. When he tried pinching the suit off of him, he could only wince in pain. There was no suit, only skunk.
He looked back into the mirror. The outer limits of his face had been consumed by fur. The rim of his eye sockets were black. A white stripe ran down his forehead. His formally brown mop of hair was now a shaggy white cumulus. He thought a black cloud would consume his vision as the fur crept down into his visor, but was spared that punishment at least. What he was not saved from was the black fur closing in on his nose and lips. “Ah!” A great pressure pushed out from inside of his head, right behind his medulla. He went cross eyed and looked at his nose. What were two bumps on the bottom corners of his peripherals became long, black protrusions that reached out to the center of his vision. His nose and jaws were sprouting forward into a snout, a painful process that felt like someone had stuck a hook in the roof of his mouth and was pulling it straight out of his face. He gripped the rim of the sink growling through the pain. It escalated around his lip when a forest of whiskers sprouted from his upper lip, each one coming out individually.
He was in the final swing of his transformation, one that fell upon his pecs and around his groin. A groan mixed with agony and queer delight belted out of him as his manhood started to retract into his body. He looked down in horror to see his reproductive organs shrinking back into his loins. “No! No no no nonononnnonnono!” Blocking the view of his disappearing genitals was the sudden inflation of his chest into a pair of white breasts. His crosses eyes stared down at them in abject terror and confusion. The first notes of a scream started their way out of him but were cut off by his paw slamming over his snout. The sound that came out of him was not his own, but that of a woman’s. It crackled like a teenager’s, but instead of a sudden deepening in his pitch, it was a rapid incline. He cautiously uncovered his maw and let out a tepid “Ah.” It did not crack this time, but remained the smooth, unmistakable tone of a woman’s.
Then, just like that, all sensations stopped at once. He looked into the mirror to see not a reflection of himself, but that of a buxom skunkette. He- no, she? He still identified as a man, but any and all physical remnants of that were gone. God, even his visage had taken on the soft contours of a woman, albeit with the inclusion of a short snout with a pink cherry nose. He lifted his hand- no, his paw, -towards his cheek. His entire body jerked the moment his tough paw pads touched his sensitive whiskers. Yes, it was real. It was all real.
Terror set in. “Oh God! Oh no! Why?” He rubbed his paws all over his face, stretching the skin to find any breaches that would reveal normal human skin beneath. All he got was the sight of sharp canines sticking out from his gums. Nothing human besides his upright posture remained. Even his underwear had magically vanished. What was he going to do now? Was this permanent? He had to call someone, but who? 911? How was he supposed to explain that over the phone? Who would they even send? It had to be someone who trusted him, but he doubted even his own mother would believe a single word of what happened.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 24 January 2023
Maria (Sister)
But he couldn’t just lock himself in his apartment for the rest of his life, or however long this curse would last. Maybe Leland will have a cure. That old son of a bitch knew what this would do to me. That would have to wait. First, he had to get help. He ran out of the bathroom, whipping his fluffy skunk tail through the air behind him. Morbid curiosity drove him to try and move it.
Sure enough, it wagged on command like the feathered fan of a burlesque dancer. That was kind of cool, but not enough to stay focused on. His phone was left on his dresser. He clicked the power button, bringing up the lock screen. A few rapid taps unlocked it and brought him to the home screen. He opened his contacts and selected the person who lived the closest, his sister Maria.
She picked up on the third ring. “Hey! What’s up?”
“Maria?” His voice was a harsh reminder that he was no longer a male. He clapped his paw back over his mouth. Shit! He cleared his throat, then tried to correct his pitch by bringing it lower. “You there?” He cringed hard. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to change his voice into something more masculine.
“Uh, yeah?” Maria said, sounding concerned. “You OK? You sound weird.”
“Um, yeah.” His attempt at sounding more natural failed. “I mean… no. I kinda have an emergency.”
“Oh. What’s wrong? What happened?” The worry in her voice cut like an edge.
“Well, I’m fine. I’m not hurt. Nobody’s hurt, but… I need you to come over.”
“OK. I’m headed over right now. What is it?”
He cringed. “It’s hard to explain. I can’t tell you over the phone.”
He heard the frown in her voice. “OK… How bad is it? What’s going on? Do you need me to call the police?”
“No! Just… Just get over here, OK? I can’t explain it without you seeing it.”
She didn’t ask any more questions. “OK. I’m on my way.” She hung up the phone, leaving Jared alone in the silence of his apartment. He spent the next several minutes pacing around, rubbing his paws nervously. His pink button nose twitched incessantly. His tail would flick and jitter behind him. He tried putting jeans on, only to find that the extra padding of fur prevented that. A towel around torso was going to have to do. A sharp buzzing sound rang through the apartment when his sister hit the intercom. He unlocked the door for her and she came running up. Jared panicked. She can’t see me like this right when she walks in! He ran into the kitchen and hid behind the doorway right as he heard knocking on the door. “Hello?” called a voice.
“Come in,” he hollered. “It’s open.”
Maria opened the door and stepped inside cautiously. “Jazz? You here?”
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 25 January 2023
Skunk too
Jared frowned. Jazz? Who the heck is Jazz? “That you, Maria?” Jared called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, it’s me. Why do you sound so weird?”
“Um… It’s complicated.” He heard her footsteps approaching the kitchen. “Wait! No! Don’t come in here!”
She stopped abruptly. “Jazz? Are you OK?”
“No. Well, yeah, kinda. Why do you keep calling me that?”
“I… always call you that.” There was a long pause. “What’s going on? Where are you? Where’s Jasmine?”
Jasmine!?!? “Jasmine? Who-? What are you talking about?”
He heard her take a step back. “Jazz, if that’s you, you’re scaring me. Come on out. Let me see you.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Jared took a deep breath. He stopped trying to sound like a man. “I might scare you even more when I come out.”
“OK. Are you hurt?” She didn’t seem concerned by Jared’s feminine voice.
“No, but what happened is… pretty shocking.”
“It’s OK. You can show me.”
“Whoo… OK.” God, this is gonna suck. “You sure you’re ready?”
“Just show me.” She was getting impatient.
“OK. Here I come.” With another pair of deep breaths, he stepped out into the doorway.
The reaction was instantaneous, one that involved a startled jump and a high-pitched scream. It was not Maria’s. The black and white fur across Jared’s body went into a great kerfuffle. He jumped so high the soles of his feet went almost a foot into the air. His heart seized in his chest and plummeted into a pool of ice water at the basement of his gut.
Maria was a skunkette too.
She was still Maria, of course. There was her usual outfit of jeans and a t-shirt. The purse she usually carried was slung over her shoulder and her sunglasses were perched on her brow. Her hair was even in the same long style that bobbed around her shoulders. That’s where the similarities to the Maria Jared knew ended. She was, like Jared, wholly and unmistakably a skunk, from the big bushy tail that sprouted behind her to the half-moon ears that sprouted from her hair.
She jumped when Jared did, but not because he was a skunk. “What? What?” she demanded.
Jared quaked where he stood, clinging to the towel vaporously. “Y-… y-… y-… You’re…” His quivering jaw could not get the words out.
“What? What is it?” Maria looked down at herself. Jared expected a sudden and violent realization that she was a skunk too. Nothing of the sort happened. “Is something on me?” Seeing nothing, she ran over to her brother/sister. “Are you OK? What’s under the towel?” She reached for Jared’s paw.
He turned away. “No!” Maria leapt back, startled. “I mean… Sorry… Sorry… I… Oh my God.” His eyes went up and down her mephitine form over and over. Most surreal was her face which besides its black fur and animal snout looked exactly like it had when she was a human. “You’re a… skunk.”
Maria frowned hard, then cracked a confused smile. “Yeah, no shit. So are you.” She tilted her head. “Is everything OK? I mean, obviously not, but did you hit your head or something?”
He wished it was that easy to explain. “No… I didn’t. I just…” He looked down at himself. The towel swelled around his recently acquired bosom. “I put a suit on… And it did something to me.” And to you, he almost added.
“Oh. Can I see it? Is it underneath the towel?”
Does she really not see any difference? Have I been a woman to her this whole time??? “Um… Yeah. Kinda.”
“Oh. Let me see.”
Jared blanched. “Um… I don’t know.” Showing his naked body to his sister wasn’t something he was comfortable with.
“It’s OK. We used to take baths when we were little babies, remember?”
“Uh… Well, yeah, but…” Then Jared realized. If she remembered her as a woman this entire time, they probably had grown up as sister and sister rather than brother and sister. Sharing bodily secrets must have been much less taboo. “Alright.” He opened his towel to reveal his trunk. He anticipated a severe reaction out of her, but got nothing but a confused frown.
“You look fine! Is something hurting?”
“Uhh…” Now that he thought about it, he felt kind of comfortable having a furry tummy and chest. “No.”
“Oh. Then why the hell’d you call me over?”
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 26 January 2023
Lie
“I…” Crap. Now I have to come up with an excuse. “Earlier… I was having a really bad… cramps… in my stomach.”
Maria’s frown deepened. “Were they that bad you had to call me? You didn’t take anything for it?”
“Um… I did. They were bad, but nothing was working.”
“OK, and why’d you get naked?”
“Well, I was when they started.”
“Right, right. Well, if they come back just call me, I guess. Did you need me to drive you to the clinic?”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“OK. You want me to hang around a while?”
Jared needed nothing more than to be with someone to handle his new form, but being around someone he’d forever known as a human in the same form was not easy on his psyche. Simultaneously, being around someone who looked like him and did not judge him for his appearance was helpful. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
“You got it. I wasn’t doing anything anyway.”
For the first time since his transformation, Jared smiled. “Yeah, thanks. Um, you called me Jazz, right?”
Maria narrowed her eyes. “Yyyyyyyyyeah. I’ve always called you that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I was just… wondering. How did you come up with it?”
“I mean… It’s short for Jasmine. Wasn’t that hard to come up with when I was 3.”
Jasmine. He remembered her saying that name earlier. That’s who I am in this universe. But was it a universe? As in a place separated from the one he was born into? How much did his current past and human past coincide? Were his parents skunks too? What animals were everyone else? Finding all of it out wasn’t going to be easy or fun. He had to ask questions without sounding like a loony, although he more than felt like one. “I think I’ll go get dressed.”
“Yeah, you do that,” Maria joked.
Jared/Jasmine strutted back to the bedroom where his/her closet was waiting. Opening it revealed a wardrobe which at first glance looked the same as it had been. His shirts, pants, socks,
and underwear were all stacked on a white metal rack neatly while his jackets hung from the rod above. He made to reach for a pair of underwear when his paw stopped. A frown furrowed his brow. That isn’t mine was his immediate thought, but it was supplanted by the realization that the opposite was true. Yes, those slim panties stacked up in a row were in fact his. But of course. The Jasmine version of him had bought clothes for women. Why wouldn’t she?
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 27 January 2023
Clothing
He picked up a pair and held them out curiously. He was familiar with women’s underwear, of course, but the prospect of putting them on was uncomfortably foreign. He noticed that the back of the waistband had a hole going through it. Above it was a clasp like that on a bra. He realized that it was for his skunk tail to fit through and that all of the other pairs had the same feature. A sigh left him as he unclasped the panties and brought them down to his feet. He stepped into the leg holes and pulled them up his furry legs. Without thinking, he pulled the tabs on the clasp around and over his tail. With a deft shift of his fingers the clasp bar slid into the holder, locking the underwear into place.
He blinked. Did I just do that? He looked down at his back and saw the underwear neatly wrapped around his waist. It was like he had done it a thousand times, and that was because he had done it a thousand times, several thousand, in fact. Just like putting on any other article of clothing, putting the panties on was accomplished purely by muscle memory. Now that the underwear were on him, they didn’t feel unnatural at all. “Huh,” he said out loud.
He noticed his bras stacked nearby. With his curiosity peeking, he plucked one up to perform an experiment. He closed his eyes and put the bra on. His arms went through the openings, the cups hugged his chest, and he closed the clasp onto his back. His eyes opened and looked down. Everything was perfect. “Holy shit!” he chuckled.
“Everything OK in there?” Maria called out.
“Yeah!” Jared said, smiling from ear to ear. “Everything’s awesome in here!” Who knew putting on women’s clothes could be so fun!
“Alright! Let me know if you need help with anything!”
It was only a few minutes ago that Jared thought he’d need help with everything, but that turned out to be false. He put on the rest of his outfit while grinning like an idiot. What he ended up with was just a white tank top and some jeans, but looking at himself in the mirror he saw the coolest outfit he’d ever had the pleasure of putting on. There was close to an entire 10 minutes spent bouncing and dancing his big fluffy skunk tail out behind him before Maria called to ask if he was OK again.
“Oh yeah! I’m fine,” called out the skunkette admiring herself in the mirror. Not Jared the he, but Jasmine the she.
She wandered out of the bathroom and back into the living room where Maria was sitting on the couch reading a magazine from the coffee table. Jasmine noticed for the first time that the people on the front cover were skunks too. One of his magazines was a National Geographic
depicting a mosaic of Jesus. To his amusement and wonder, he too was a skunk. She chuckled. Skunk Jesus. Cool.
Maria laughed with her. “What’s so funny?”
Jasmine pointed to the magazine. “Skunk Jesus.”
Maria looked down at it and lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah? What about him?”
Jasmine realized that she had just said the equivalent of Human Jesus. “Nothing. It’s just funny seeing him on the magazine like that.”
“Oh, OK.” Maria laughed at the absurdity of it. “Are you high?”
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 28 January 2023
Yes
“No.”
“You’re acting real funny. You were just freaking out a few minutes ago and now you’re laughing at a picture of Jesus. You coming off the peak?”
Shit. That’s actually a great excuse. Why didn’t I think of that? “Yeah, sorry. That’s why I called you. Having the cramps in the middle of it really fucked me up.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, I didn’t wanna give you TMI.”
“For smoking weed?” Maria scoffed. “Weirdo. You know I know you’ve done it before. Why would I judge?”
“Y-yeah. Sorry. I was paranoid.”
“Shit, been there.” Maria patted the cushion next to her. “Have a seat. Take the edge off. You definitely need it.”
Jasmine agreed and took a seat next to her. Her curiosity fell back on her like an anvil. “What’s on TV?”
“I dunno. The remote’s right there.” Maria nodded at the remote on the coffee table.
Jasmine snatched it up and inspected it. It looked like her old remote, maybe a little fatter? Her Jasmine brain saw everything as normal, but Jared brain could find minute changes. Giving anything else closer looks provided the same mind-puzzling contradiction: what she was holding was different from how his memories experienced them, but everything else including muscle memory, subconscious, and various other facets of his psyche registered them as perfectly normal. The contrast faltered side to side in her mind like a pair of dimensions spilling over one another inside the hull of ship rocking on its keel. Neither could take hold of another, not when the
opposing perspective would come crashing over on top as soon as the advantage had been taken. It was like he’d been trapped in her own personal Mandela effect.
Maria watched her stare a disconcertingly long amount of time at the remote. “Damn. You’re toasted.” She quipped.
Jasmine realized how hard she was staring and laughed it off. “Oh yeah. Haha… My bad.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Like I said, been there.”
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 28 January 2023
Tv
Jasmine hit the power button on the remote. The TV on the wall powered on normally with a white bar materializing in the center of the screen and blooming out to the channel he had last. A passing sports fan, Jasmine, or rather Jared, had watched a hocky game the night before. It was on TNT which today was featuring a few basketball games. Jasmine’s jaw dropped. Famous athletes had all been skunkified like she had been. They talked, joked, and debated amongst themselves exactly like their human counterparts did. They analyzed game footage, discussed strategies, and made guesses on who would win. Everything was totally normal except for the jarring yet banal fact that they were all skunks.
She switched the channels. Yes, everyone else was a skunk too. The exact same commercials Jared had seen the human version of Jasmine could now see as the skunkified edition. They all included the same lines and actors. They all featured the same products. They all had the same annoying songs and jingles. Only difference? Take a guess.
“Wait!” Jasmine yelped, making Maria jump in her seat.
“What? What?”
“Are movies the same?” she asked as if Maria knew what was going on.
“The same? What do you mean? What movies? Jesus Christ, what exactly did you smoke?”
All that did was bring up the image of Skunk Jesus again. Jasmine had to stop herself from giggling again. “Nothing. Wanna watch a movie?”
“Um, Keith is expecting me back home for dinner.”
“OK, OK. No problem. Let’s just…” She opened the streaming menu.” Let’s see something really quick.” Using the many streaming services the market had to offer, Jared had both rented and bought several movies digitally over the years. If Jasmine was the same as Jared, at least in the very tenuous and confusing sense that she hoped it was, the movie Troy starring Brad Pitt was still in her library. It was her favorite movie, one she liked to rewatch at least once a year. She opened Netflix and browsed the movies she’d seen. Sure enough, Troy was both in the library and had been marked as something she watched. The thumbnail depicted Brad Pitt as Achilles, although not quite the version Jasmine/Jared was used to.
She laughed out loud. “Ha! Oh my God!” She selected the movie and hit play. It started exactly how it normally did, veering off only when the first character appeared on screen. Needless to say, they weren’t human. Jasmine just sat there laughing herself silly, watching as the movie played itself with a cast completely replaced with anthropomorphic skunk people.
Maria kept quiet, concerned but happy to see her sister in such a childish state of euphoria. She made a mental note to ask Jasmine who her dealer was. Whatever Jasmine was smoking, it was that good stuff. “Well, I wish I could watch this movie with you… again… but I should get going.” She started to get up.
Jasmine snapped out of her hysterics. “Wait! Don’t go!”
Maria frowned. “What?” Her patience was growing thin. “If nothing’s wrong I don’t think I need to babysit you, unless you think I need to.”
“No, no… You don’t, I swear. But… do you think you can drive me somewhere?”
“Your dealer, I’m assuming.”
Jasmine couldn’t help but chuckle even though she was trying to remain serious. “No. It’s a store I ran into earlier today.”
“Oh, so you’ve got the munchies.”
Jasmine shook her head, whipping her long white hair into a halo around her head. “No. It’s not. I swear. It’s something important I have to check out, and I’m too high to drive.” She wasn’t high at all, but driving her car seemed like something too surreal to do when everything around her was so significant and thus distracting.
“What is it?”
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 29 January 2023
Back to the Store
Jasmine thought for a moment. How the hell was she supposed to explain Leland? “You’re right, it is my dealer. Sorry.”
“You guys are all cool, right? I’m not bringing you to settle some score, am I?”
“What? No! Just… Can you bring me over there?”
Maria would’ve declined if she wasn’t after some of that good stuff herself. She sighed and fished her keys out of her coat pocket. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
The mere walk from Jasmine’s apartment to Maria’s car was a display of wonders. They spotted her neighbor whom Jasmine had known for years when she was Jared. They were not only a skunk, but were walking their dog who, as far as Jasmine could tell, looked completely normal and unchanged. The person saw Jasmine and gave a polite wave. Jasmine waved back, if less enthusiastically.
Things got exponentially weirder once they got in Maria’s car. The first oddity was the gap in the car seats between the backrest and the seat itself. Maria sat down and casually tucked her tail through it so that it could rest upright behind the backrest. Jasmine sat down and found herself doing the exact same thing as unconsciously as she would put on her seatbelt. The drive to Get It Here was an adventure on its own, revealing a complete treasure trove of mephitine discovery. Jasmine’s pretty face was smushed into the car window as she gawked at everyone who passed. Interesting to see beyond just everyone’s having become, or simply being, a skunk was the fact that there was a variety between them. There were spotted skunks, striped skunks, hognose skunks, and hooded skunks. Jasmine wouldn’t have noticed if her Jared form didn’t have such a fascination with the animal.
That reminded her. “Hey, Maria?”
“Yeah?”
“I got a stupid question.”
“I bet you do.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, do you know what a human is?”
Maria frowned and cut her eye at her while trying to look at the road. “No? What’s that?”
Jasmine slumped in her seat. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
They came across the lot where Get It Here had been. The lot remained, but taking it up was a convenience store, not the bizarre novelty shop where Jared had gotten the suit. Looking in through the windows he couldn’t spot any skunk that resembled Leland. She was disappointed, but not surprised. Somebody who sells something magical like that wasn’t liable to show up when you needed them to.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 31 January 2023
History
Maria watched as her sister stared at the convenience store quietly. “You OK?” she asked.
Jasmine sighed. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Sorry for dragging you out here.” She sat back in her seat. “My dealer’s not here. Sorry.”
“Oh. Don’t worry about it.”
Jasmine tried not to, but that would prove hard.
Maria drove her back to her apartment. After double-checking that everything was OK, she left her sister alone. Now that she was past the amusement period, Jasmine had to sit down and really adjust herself. Sitting down and watching the rest of Troy was fun, but by the end of it the skunkiness had pretty much lost all its novelty. She put on some other movies, laughed at how the actors looked, then turned them off. A look through the gallery on her phone revealed multiple
pictures of herself and her family the exact way Jared had taken them, but in their places were what Jasmine the skunkette had taken, not Jared.
She perused her apartment for other changes. All her clothes were built to contain tails and other skunk features like fluffy fur and claws. She had no winter clothes, probably not necessary given her fur. More time was spent in front of the mirror gawking at her tail. A period of literal self-reflection had her repeating to herself what became a morbid chant: I’m a skunk. I’m a skunk. I’m a skunk. Holy shit. I’m a skunk. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
Memories of the human Jared remained intact, making her question how in tune they were with what happened to Jasmine. Were her interests the same? Were all the people she had met still around? Dread seized her. Are the human people I grew up with still in existence? She had no way of finding out. There she was, stuck in this new universe, a perverse copy of what she was familiar with yet totally alien too.
She had to distract herself from an impending episode of existential horror. She ran to her bedroom where her computer awaited her. The chair wasn’t done recoiling from the impact of her landing on it by the time she was logged on. Her desktop picture was the same: a pretty screenshot she had captured while playing Red Dead Redemption 2. Looks like my interests are pretty much intact. She opened up her browser and clicked the search bar. Where to start? Evolution? Society? Where did things go different?
She was in the middle of typing “human history” when she quickly backspaced it and replaced it with “skunk history.” The results that came up included a few images of cavemen and pre-historic people, but of course they were all skunks. Among them was the famous image depicting the procession of human evolution, the one that started with a basic primate and then gradually moved up into the human. Not only did this one end on an anthropomorphic skunk but it started on what was a completely normal skunk in the human universe. “Woah…” Jasmine thought aloud.
Wikipedia offered a definition: Skunk history, also called world history, is the narrative of skunkity’s past. Jasmine got a chuckle out of the word “skunkity”. Browsing the wiki page as well as other informative websites unveiled a motherlode of information too burdensome for her to drink in at once. It was rife with scientific names of skunk’s ancestors, but instead of Australopithecus afarensis, it was Australopalianthropus afarensis. Other scientific names followed the same theme, replacing the human origin of the word and replacing it with the skunk version, usually “mephitis” or “palianthropus”. A translation of the former revealed that it meant smelly in latin. It was funny to her that even in a world where everyone stank, it didn’t mean nobody stank.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 01 February 2023
World History
That reminded her. Could she spray? That wasn’t something she was willing to experiment inside her apartment. Another quick google search revealed that most skunks had their glands removed upon birth. In fact, there was an entire political debate on bodily autonomy which confronted the tradition. Without going so far as to check herself physically, Jasmine assumed her glands had been removed, which was kind of a bummer.
That wasn’t the end of her investigation. There was so much else to unpack and ask. Thank God that all of this had happened to Jared in the modern age when there was all of the world’s secrets at her fingertips. She slogged through a book series’ worth of Wikipedia pages that included both history and anatomy. Skunk history followed human history more or less to a tee. There were more paintings of skunk Jesus to giggle at as well as other religious and historic figures. Skunk Abe Lincoln, skunk Joan of Arc, skunk Napoleon, skunk Ceasar. Fuck, there was even a skunk Hitler. Jasmine would’ve laughed her ass if off if it wasn’t so messed up.
That brought her back to the political sphere. Issues were similar and the parties followed the same format of Left wing vs. Right wing and Liberal vs. Conservative. There were a few added issues that were interesting. There was the aforementioned bodily autonomy debate regarding the removal of stink glands. Race divides were not done by color of skin but pattern of stripes. Geez. I guess the concept of race in the human world is more nebulous than I thought.
Politics aside, there was the issue of human existence. Maria had never heard of them, but could they have existed in this universe like skunks did in the human universe? She typed “human” into the search bar. To his surprise, there were in fact a few suggestions. She hit enter and was subject to the most bafflingly hilarious set of images he had ever laid eyes on. There were several artist’s renditions of humans based on their skeletal remains. Apparently, they had gone extinct hundreds of thousands of years ago, never evolving past the Homo erectus stage. Jared had learned that there was a human bias of what people thought dinosaurs and other fossils looked like when they were alive. Artist renditions humans made tended to exclude dinosaur feathers and thus were incomplete pictures of what they may have looked like.
Skunk bias of what humans looked like, on the other hand, had the exact opposite problem. Each human was covered head to toe in thick fur just like any other animal. What were supposed to be serious renditions of what humans lived like on planet earth were instead a gut-busting comedy of errors. Jasmine found herself in another fit of hysteric giggles. Scrolling down the selection of hairy humans had tears rolling down her cheeks. It reminded her of Cats, the God awful 2019 movie.
“Oh shit!” She had to look the movie up. To her surprise, the film actually did much better in the skunk universe. Apparently skunks made to look like cats had a much less severe uncanny valley effect given the better similarity between the two animals. That did not save the movie from having a nonsensical plot and a star-studded cast of actors who didn’t care about performing.
There was so much more to delve into and gawk at, but Jasmine couldn’t let it distract her from the fact she still had a life to live as a skunkette. Jared’s job as a host at a restaurant most likely carried over to Jasmine. Was working in that environment going to be much different? Jared had been working there for over a year; maybe Jasmine could perform it like nothing had changed. She could only hope. She checked her calendar on her phone and confirmed that she had work the next morning. The rest of her work schedule reflected what Jared’s had been. Maybe she could get away with this after all.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 03 February 2023
Living
The next morning was the start of her first full day as a skunkette. She performed her usual routine from showering to eating breakfast and brushing her teeth. There were some noted
differences, mainly that shampooing her entire body proved to be a hassle and a half. She had to take time to brush both the hair on her head and the floof of her tail. Upwards of half an hour passed before she deemed herself presentable.
She drove herself to work, careful not to lose her focus on the skunkified world around her. She turned on the radio to listen to some music, finding out that her taste in alternative rock music remained untouched. Getting to work was another round of shock from seeing people she recognized as skunks. Everyone had the same features. Her manager, Tom, even kept his balding head, poor guy.
Everything proceeded as normally as any other day. Jasmine was afraid she’d slip up and introduce herself to a guest as Jared, but once again muscle memory saved the day. The rest of the shift went without incident, and Jasmine left the restaurant feeling proud. Far from tired like she usually was coming off work, she was thriving. The urge to go back in there and ask if she could fill another shift was strong. If doing her job had become this fun, what else was there?
She went straight to her parents’ home and knocked on the front door. She damn near died laughing when the answered it to reveal a pair of aging skunk folk. They both got a big old hug and got asked how they were doing. They were happy to tell her that they were just fine, although her father found it pertinent to ask if she was high on anything. Another fit of laughter rolled through her. She told him no, “but I’m high on life, that’s for sure.”
The week blew by in a flurry of joy and thrill. She went to the movies to watch Avatar 2 which featured the same Na’vi, albeit with a more mephitine twist to their features. Even after that 3 hour long slug she bought tickets for other movies and sat through them. Comedic moments were funnier, action scenes were more suspenseful, and the scary moments would’ve had her skunking in her pants.
She visited an amusement park, a museum, a concert, even a ballet. These were things she never would’ve done on such whimsy. Jared would’ve complained of not having enough cash or time. Now she had the same amount of both, yet she found ways to spend it and never regretted a single moment. She had achieved a childlike sense of wonder that escalated her emotions into such extremes she could hardly control herself. The sway of perspective was done with. Jared the human was gone. Jasmine the skunkette was here to stay.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 04 February 2023
A way out?
Or so she thought. Her human-self came crashing back along with a package and a letter she got in the mail. It was a medium sized carboard box with the note folded up and taped to the top. There was no address. The name written on the note gave her immediate pause.
JARED
She picked the package up from her welcome mat and did a quick check to see if anyone was looking. With no sign of anybody, least of all a tall skinny old man, she hustled inside with the package and shut the door. She ran to her couch and sat down with the package in her lap. She peeled the tape off and opened the note.
Dear Jared,
Or should I say Jasmine? That’s your name here, isn’t it? Well, I hope you’ve adjusted nicely. It’s a mirror of the world you know, after all, just a little smellier, I suppose. Certainly, you’ve gotten used to the stench if there is any. I suspect they have a priority on hygiene like our society does. I haven’t spent much time there myself. Not a fan of polecats like you are, not that I detest them. They are cute in their own little way, just like all of God’s creatures.
Anyway! I’d like to send you an option of carrying yourself to another furrier world if you’d be so inclined. Inside is another suit like the one you bought from my shop. No, you won’t find it again, at least not in this town. I wouldn’t recommend going looking for me either. You’ll end up disappointed.
What won’t disappoint you is what’s in this box. I invite you to open it and see what’s inside. Perhaps it’ll lead you to a universe even more engaging than this one! Although I know your infatuation with skunks will probably make you decline. Either way, the option will always be here if you ever feel so inclined.
I hope this letter finds you well. No hard feelings, I hope.
Sincerely,
Leland Gaunt
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 05 February 2023
Wolverine
Jasmine held on to the letter for a while, reading it and rereading it several times over. There was no reference to Leland’s handwriting, but she had no doubt that the eloquently curvaceous script in front of her was a result of the wizard’s hand. How did he find her so quickly? Did he always know where she was? Did he know what she was doing right now? He claimed to be elsewhere, out of town, and while she was inclined to believe him, there lingered the unsettling feeling of being watched. She put the note down on the coffee table and walked towards the door. She opened it and looked outside. There was nothing but hallway and dozens of apartment doors. No sign of an oversized magic man peeking around the corner or through a crack in one of the doors. Of course there wasn’t. Why would there be? If he was really watching her, it was probably through some magic orb that provided him a bird’s-eye view of her apartment, one that penetrated the roof and the many floors above her like an x-ray.
With any illusion of privacy shattered and unrecoverable, she closed the door and stepped back into her apartment. The package was on the couch where she had left it. The yellowed parchment was folded on the coffee table. She brought herself over and read it again. It said the same thing, referring to her as Jared, her human and male self, a version she was unsure still existed or not.
Sitting next to the package made her uneasy. What was in it? A new suit, so the note said, but of what animal was unclear. A different species of skunk? Maybe something else entirely. Just opening the package and pulling it out seemed risky. Having put on the skunk onesie when she was Jared had proved a universe-altering decision. Just coming into contact with another one, let alone putting it on, seemed like a risky decision.
Alas, curiosity got the better of her. She picked the package up and sat it in her lap. It felt heavy, at least a bit more than what the skunk onesie had weighed. She peeled the tape off and pulled open the cardboard flaps. Before her was a flat sheet of dark brown fur, one that seemed to fill the package’s perfectly rectangular shape. Running down the center vertically was a zipper flap. It reminded Jasmine of what she had seen on the skunk onesie. She knew that once she put this one on it would disappear. That was if she put it on. Who knew what kind of animal it would change her into and what world she would find herself in.
Only one way to find out. She pinched the furry suit between just her index and thumb fingers like it was a dirty handkerchief and pulled it from the box. It was much heavier than the skunk onesie, that much was clear once she got most of it out of the box. Holding it with just her pinched fingers proved too difficult, so she had to readjust her grip so that she used all of her paws.
The fur was much denser than what was on her body now. Laying her paw on it revealed that it had multiple layers: a coarse outer coat and an almost impenetrable bottom coat. She ran her fingers through it. At the roots of each dark brown hair was a section of light blonde. Beneath it all the skin was invisible, the fur was so thick. What the hell is it? she asked herself. A grizzly bear? Images of herself as a snarling, hump-backed behemoth came to mind. If that’s what it was, she definitely wasn’t putting it on.
The box was put aside so that she could stand up with it. The rest of it fell out from the box and dangled from her paws like a new dress. The limbs, she saw, were incredibly thick. That tough, protective fur continued throughout the onesie’s design. The only color besides dark brown on the outer layer was a crescent of blonde that went around the collar, above the chest and just below the hood. The feet paws were enormous like baseball mitts. When Jasmine brought the suit to her body and looked down the back she saw a brief but fluffy tail shaped like a club.
And still she didn’t know what animal it was. A ferret maybe? A weasel? An otter? Any other mustelid? Being a skunk kept her guesses in the mustelid family. It was embarrassing not being able to pinpoint what it was exactly. It had to be an animal that lived in the arctic. Fur this thick could keep a blizzard at bay. A mink, maybe? No, the fur wasn’t soft enough. Plus, the body was too stocky. Minks were more streamlined for swimming.
That left one mustelid that she knew of with this kind of fur: a wolverine. The short, stubby beasts with ferocious tempers and jaws that could snap moose femurs. That had to be what this was. The dense coat, stocky frame, and massive paws all pointed that way. Jasmine felt silly for not having realized it sooner. Is that what Leland wanted her to become next? An ankle-mauling claw dog that could give a honey badger a lesson in aggression? Maybe if I put it on it’ll give me retractable claws and a skeleton of adamantium. As awesome as that would be, she doubted that it would turn her into Hugh Jackman.
If that was the case, would it ever be worth putting on? Leland said it was her choice, but something told her that there were consequences if she didn’t. If he could craft suits that altered bodies and the universe, surely he had some way of fucking with her from afar. He was able to find her here in the skunk universe, so it was pretty much certain that he would find her in the wolverine universe if it existed.
Jasmine couldn’t make her mind up, at least not yet. This was something worth sleeping on for at least a night or two. She went to her bedroom and hung the suit up on a hanger in her closet. There it would remain for some time, drawing Jasmine’s thought every time she passed her closet door. A few days came and went with her living life as a skunk. Before long the novelty had worn off, and living in a world of skunks was as natural as living with humans.
It was one night, exactly nine days since the man known as Jared put on a skunk onesie, that Jasmine went to her closet and opened it. The wolverine suit was on the farthest end of the rack, behind the wall where it was darker. She pulled her shirts and jackets aside so that she could retrieve the bulky suit. Pulling the hanger off the rack reminded her just how heavy it was. The zipper went down so she could pull the hanger out. She took some time looking at the suit’s fur patterns. On the back were light brown stripes, sort of like a skunk’s. Hey, maybe she wouldn’t change that much after all.
Jasmine went to the bathroom where she took her clothes off and unzipped the suit the rest of the way. The inside was a white velvet material, so at least it would be pleasant to wear for as long as it wasn’t fusing to her skin like liquid tar. Her feet went into the legs first, filling them out to the paw pads. When she hiked the suit up to her waist she realized how loose it was around her limbs and body. At first she thought that it must have been made for someone much bigger than her, but then she remembered that larger mustelids like badgers and wolverines had loose hides, especially honey badgers.
Her arms went through the sleeves and she covered her shoulders. The hood went over her head, then she paused. All that was left was to pull the zipper up, no doubt the trigger for her transformation. She remembered how terrifying turning into a skunk had been, as it would be for any person. Saying that she knew what to expect this time wasn’t that convincing.
But she was in too deep to stop now. With a deep breath she pulled the zipper up. It slid with a low buzz, clinging each metal tooth together until they had formed a thin but solid pinstripe of shiny steel. Jasmine let go of the zipper tab. Her heart was pounding in her chest. The zipper would vanish at any moment now, and her transformation into a wolverine would begin.
At first nothing happened. The zipper remained intact and the suit continued to hang off her body like a cloak. She held her arms out awkwardly, preparing for fur to fall into the shape of her body like shrink wrap, but it wouldn’t. Frowning, she turned her back to the mirror to see if anything had changed there. There was the bulge of her fluffy skunk tail pressing into the hide and the unused wolverine tail hanging limply just below that. Did he send me a dud?
She turned to face the mirror again. Just like that, the zipper had vanished. “Oh,” she said aloud. Rubbing her paw down her trunk unveiled nothing. Like a game of red light, green light, the zipper wouldn’t move until Jasmine had her eyes off it.
There wasn’t any time to dwell on the mechanics of the suit before she felt it shrinking into her body exactly as the skunk suit had. She saw it fall into the shape of her body, replacing most of her black and white fur with that luscious dark brown. A uniform pressure overtook her skin, causing her to inhale sharply on reflex. The suit was not so tight on her that she couldn’t breathe, but there lingered the threat of it crushing her into oblivion if she did not keep a reserve of air in her lungs.
The hoodie consumed her head, leaving only her excited-looking face exposed. Her ears were flattened beneath it, muffling all sound except for the erratic thump of her heart. A creeping tickle began to move up her wrists. She held them out and saw the sleeves creeping up her paws like a spreading oil spill. The black fur was encroached and absorbed by the suit. It consumed her paw pads and slid up her digits like shadows on a tree in the evening.
Soon her claw tips were cocooned, leaving the hood to spill across her visage and transform it into something more ferocious. Looking in the mirror she saw the ovular cutout around her face shrink into her brow, chin, and cheeks. There was a stab of panic in her heart. Her breath quickened and she kneaded her paws. It wasn’t painful, but seeing the furry material lay claim to her identity like a bacterium colonizing a petri dish was distressing.
Finally the suit covered her nose and mouth. The space between her eyes was the very last piece of her to be consumed. The suit was done spreading, but was nowhere near finished with transforming her. A great buzz flooded her body as the suit penetrated her skin and went to work making her more wolverine-ish. She yelped once her proud skunk tail sank into her back. Jasmine was spared the sight of the tail bones slithering down the space between her back and the suit like a snake. They fell into the limp wolverine tail, filling it with sensation and muscle that she could control.
“Ah!” She leaned forward onto the kitchen sink, catching herself on the rim of it. The transformation had settled into her skeleton. From her spine to her limbs she could feel the bones lengthening and swelling into something much stockier. Though the discomfort was short of painful, she was able to open her eyes and watch her reflection change along with her. The shoulders, once slim and dainty, were coming apart like a pair of sliding doors. It added only a few inches, but was enough to turn Jasmine from a petite woman into a linebacker. The same happened to her hips and thighs. The soft curvature of her waist hardened into a rigid trunk. Most glaring was the shift of her head. When the snout started hardening it was as though a filament of lead was being poured into her skull.
Then came her muscles. They filled out the girth of her skeleton gradually. Jasmine hissed and snarled. She could see the sinews rising into the skin. Beneath her breasts formed a pair of thick, squared pecs. Traps rose from the back of her neck, completing a second set of shoulders. The biceps turned into boulders. Her forearms rivaled the breadth of small tree trunks. The same process swelled her legs and glutes, completing her new status as an athlete. Last to change were her paws. The pads thickened into leathery mattresses that could’ve stopped the swing of a bat, they were so dense. Her claws, already long and powerful, grew even more intimidating, almost like a bear’s. As she held her paws in front of her to watch the transformation she could feel the same process happening to her feet.
And that was the end of it. Like a lightning strike it ended as quickly as it had started. Every feeling of twisting and pulling dissipated, leaving Jasmine in a state of mild shock. She blinked and looked at herself in the mirror. Jasmine the skunk was gone, replaced by Jasmine (if that was still her name) the wolverine. Oddly she kept the overall features of her face. Her eyes were the same color brown. It was difficult to pinpoint given how much had changed, but for some reason she was still able to recognize herself.
On the other hand, everything else was completely different. Jasmine looked like a strongman or a bodybuilder, she had been so filled with muscle. She could see every flex her muscles performed when she moved her arms. Earlier she thought she looked like a linebacker. Looking at herself now it was clear that a lineman was more appropriate. It felt as though the tile floor beneath her would break beneath her immensity. Her neck was like a thigh and her paws were like catcher’s mitts. Everything about her exuded strength and masculinity.
Which is funny, because she was still a female. Atop those gargantuan pecs were a pair of small, but still identifiable breasts. A quick inspection between her thighs confirmed that she was still a woman, though now her parts were hidden beneath a serious layer of brown fluff. Geez, if this is how big the ladies get. How big are the fellas?
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 07 July 2023
Homelife
That reminded her, she had a scale in the bathroom in both her previous lives. She turned and saw it next to the shower stall. It was a large platform made of acrylic with a digital screen for displaying the weight. That was almost exactly how it looked before, only something was different about it. It looked way bigger than it did before. As a human and a skunk it was about the size of a baseball plate. Now it was more like a pizza box, and much sturdier too. That made sense given Jasmine’s size. If a regular person like her was this heavy, there would have to be bigger scales to accommodate that.
In fact, now that she looked around the room, she noticed that just about everything else was bigger than in the human and skunk worlds. The toilet bowl was much broader and the shower stall was more spacious. Even the toothbrush that she kept in its holder looked more like a golf ball brush than something she’d put in her mouth. That reminds me. She peeled her lip down with her claw and took a look at her teeth. They were sharp like before, but with a much more menacing length and girth. Jasmine made no mistake. These were for gripping and tearing flesh. Her fingertips drifted onto the jowls where there lay a bedrock of solid jaw muscle. Just flexing it let Jasmine know that she could crack a bone with just her teeth.
The last thing she inspected was her backside. Turning around made her stubby wolverine tail sweep across her legs. It looked small when compared to the glorious tower of black and white floof that it had been just a few minutes ago. Jasmine was a tad disappointed, but at least she still had a tail to wag around, something she enjoyed doing in the mirror like a goofball.
After what may have been half an hour going over her new form, Jasmine left the bathroom to see what had become of the rest of the world. Stepping through her conspicuously wider doorway brought her back into the living room where the theme of enlarged objects continued. The seats on her couch were fattened so that they could contain the enormous frame of a wolverine. The chairs at her dining table were similarly huge, as was the table itself. Humorously, while everything was significantly wider and thicker, nothing was at all taller. It was as though someone had stretched reality by two dimensions but neglected to attend the third.
The coffee table was at the center of her apartment. Her collection of national geographics was stacked on top of it alongside a remote control fatter than a machete. When Jasmine got close she noticed that there were only a few buttons on it and that they were the size of quarters. A quick look at her burly paws and fingers told her why. As she took time to look at her paw some more she wondered just how her claws worked. When she clenched her fist there came no trio of long, shiny spears from the gaps in her knuckles. A shame, but while she couldn’t do that she was able to retract her massive claws back into her fingers halfway with the flex of a muscle she didn’t have before. It felt strange and natural at the same time, like someone with amnesia performing their signature by muscle memory alone.
Jasmine sat down on the couch and picked up a NatGeo. A good chortle came out of her when she saw the wolverine version of scientists and celebrities peering over historical artifacts and taking pictures of wild animals which were the same as they had been in the human world. Jasmine tried turning the page but found that two of them were stuck together. She tried plucking at it with her thumb claw but couldn’t get the damn things apart. After the fifth pluck a frown furrowed her brow.
“Come on now,” she said, irritated. “Open the fuck up.” Trying with both thumbs didn’t work any better. Her frustration boiled over, twitching her lips into a snarl. “Fucking thing!” Finally she just threw the magazine back onto the table where it smacked off the stack and went fluttering to the floor. Jasmine slumped back into the couch with a harrumph and crossed her beefy arms in front of her chest. “Stupid magazine.”
Her anger did not clear until moments later when she blinked and realized what she had done. The stack of magazines was now cut in two, its upper half slid across the coffee table like a lost game of jenga. Did I really just do that? That kind of aggravation wasn’t normal for her, or anyone for that matter. Was that her wolverine DNA turning her into an impatient curmudgeon?
She got up from the couch so that she could fix the stack and resume reading the magazine. Take it easy this time. It’s just a page. She opened the magazine to a random spot and looked at the pictures. To her chagrin, when she tried to turn the page she saw that this one was stuck too. Great, here we go. But before she frustrated herself on trying to peel them apart she realized that the next page she could get to carried over from the one she was on perfectly. The pages were never stuck together. They were made twice as thick so that her enormous claws would have a better time turning them.
“Oh…” she said, feeling thoroughly stupid. “Oops.”
After perusing her collection of NatGeo’s and getting some amusement out of seeing wolverine Jesus (that would never get old) she decided to turn on the TV. As expected, everyone who appeared was a wolverine version of themselves. Having gone through the same motions before as a skunk made the new transition no less jarring. She had just gotten used to seeing people as skunks. Now she had to readjust to people as wolverines.
Which reminded her, how was her family? She patted her thigh looking for her phone but found nothing but bare fur. It dawned on her that she had been naked this entire time. Her hide was so heavy that it felt like an outfit on its own. She didn’t doubt that there was any need for winter clothes. How wolverines survived in tropical weather, if they were even down there, was beyond her.
She remembered leaving her phone in her pants pocket and went to the bathroom to go get it. It was weird picking up a pair of jeans that looked big enough to fit around a tree and knowing that it was hers. Even weirder was that the tag on the back read “skinny fit”. Putting them back on was a delicate procedure given her massive sharp feet claws. The denim was padded with leather on the inside for that exact reason. I guess everything’s gotta be made extra tough in this world. I feel like the Hulk trying to fix an iPhone.
Once her clothes were on (she was happy to find a hole for her tail in the waist of her pants) she drew her phone out of her pocket. The thing weighed like a brick and had a screen the size of a rearview mirror. Jasmine sat down on the couch and braced herself for the journey into her gallery. Seeing her family was going to be the most jarring of all changes thus far, she knew it. Her thumb tapped the gallery app, clacking the thumb claw on what was probably a bulletproof screen. First there were the pictures Jasmine had taken most recently when she was a skunk. There were a few selfies and pictures she had taken with her friends. Prior to putting on the skunk suit, her friend group consisted mostly of the guys she worked with. After turning into a woman there was a major shift in gender with her friends.
That made her wonder. If the wolverine version existed before the skunk version, and the skunk version existed before the human version, where are they now? Do they even still exist? All of her memories of being Jared and her brief time as a skunk were intact, but buried beneath all of that was an entire lifetime as those three species. She was a human, a skunk, and a wolverine all sandwiched together within a bread of consciousness baked by the original Jared.
But who was the original Jared? Could any version of her even be called original? Skunk Jasmine had probably been turned into a human, and then into a wolverine. In that case, wolverine Jasmine became a skunk first and was now a human. Wait, no. That doesn’t work because I was a skunk at that time. Wolverine Jasmine probably turned into a human and then became a skunk, or some fourth animal Leland hasn’t sent me yet. If that’s the case, what does that make skunk Jasmine?
Her head was starting to hurt. She forgot about the phone in her paws for a moment. That existential dread concerning herself, her family, and the life she had left behind weighed on her like a ton of bricks. What was real and what wasn’t was indecipherable. Existence itself was a fragile concept, even more so than it ever had been. The fact that there was a being out there, Leland, who could transfer people from reality to reality with just a magic suit was deeply unsettling.
Then she remembered the phone in her paw. It was still open to her gallery where she was greeted with the faces of her friends and family. She scrolled down to see more photos, those with more smiles and cute animals. With each upwards swipe of her thumb there would zoom a dozen or so pictures she had taken onto the screen. Every one of them brought up a memory of either when she was a skunk or when she was Jared. Here they had all been given a certain wolverine flair, but were the same pictures regardless. Whether or not the other realities existed did not matter so long as she had her family and friends here in this one.
Existential dread having been quelled for the moment, Jasmine smiled and tucked the phone back into her pocket. She stood up from the couch and did a big, full body stretch, reaching her artillery-arms out at her sides and bearing the muscle against the fur. She came to a rest with a sigh and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was beaming into her living room and radiating off the tree leaves. A perfect day for a walk if there ever was one.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 08 July 2023
The Rest of the world
Jasmine all but burst out of the front entrance and into the parking lot. As expected, all of the cars were stretched widthwise to accommodate their much girthier occupants. On the way to hers Jasmine spotted one of her neighbors getting out of his truck. Back in the human reality he had driven a green Toyota Tundra pickup. That was the case here, only it was much, much, much bigger. The wheels looked like they belonged on a tractor and the body was hitched up more than a foot above them. The neighbor came out and flicked his keys around into his giant paw before tucking them into his pocket.
He noticed Jasmine staring as he passed her. “Hey there,” he said, somewhat concerned.
Jasmine blinked and realized what she was doing. “Hey! Uh, nice truck.”
Her neighbor smiled. “Oh, thanks.” He walked the rest of the way to the apartment with his head held high and his chest upthrusted. That clearly made his day.
Now that she was walking through the parking lot amidst all the cars and trucks she noticed that they were not merely widened but dazzled in ways that they hadn’t been in the other realities. There were cars with souped up engines rising out of their hoods, their trio of red exhaust ports blinking in the sunlight as she passed them. There were fat, black wall tires and hotrod flames. Vanity plates were stamped with outright vulgar acronyms while flanked by even ruder bumper stickers. Jasmine felt like she was in the center of a car show, not an apartment parking lot. Is every man in this universe compensating for something?
Apparently the women were too, because Jasmine’s car was the exact same way. She stood in front of it, awestruck by her Camry’s explosive presentation. The hood had a section cut out to leave room for the engine block. The wheels were a deep black with chrome hubcaps. The once plain beige color was replaced by a volcanic black and a fiery red stripe that ran down its center. The license plate said LOADED, whatever that meant.
In no way would Jasmine have recognized it as her car if not for the plush Luigi keychain she kept dangled from the rearview mirror. Out of everything that had changed, that was the only thing that remained. She slid her keys out of her pocket and clicked the unlock button on her fob. The headlights blinked and the doors clunked. Yes, it was hers. It would’ve been embarrassing if not for everyone else’s being the same.
She climbed into the front seat and found a thick steering wheel. The way everything like the knobs on the radio were so big and damage-proof reminded her of a playskool van she saw toddlers ride in all the time. There was still a gap in the backrest for her tail which was convenient. There was some hesitation before she put the key into the ignition. There was a mighty roar and a rumble when she twisted it. The radio blared her favorite station loudly enough to make her ears fold back on her head. Jesus Christ. Is everything going to be this loud and obnoxious?
Apparently so. The drive to the park felt like a survival mission. The roads rumbled and shook with a caravan of engines powerful enough to propel a fighter plane. Hitched up trucks and souped up cars would sputter past Jasmine, black fumes vomiting from their exhausts and fogging up her vision. Every so often there would be the blare of a car horn or the screech of tires. The road didn’t feel like a road so much as a herd of bison trying to stampede away from a predator. Jasmine spent the entire ride huddled in her seat, paws gripping the steering wheel, praying she wouldn’t get in an accident and have to deal with any of these psychos.
She made it to the park without incident, though her heart was still racing as she got out of the car. Her wolverine instincts brought up fantasies of finding every one of those aggressive drivers and beating the shit out of them. She realized that her teeth were clenched and that her paw was balled into a fist. A few deep breaths calmed her down. Is everyone this aggressive? It’s a miracle civilization even came to be with all this malice.
For now she could spend some time in the park and in the sun where there would at least be some folk enjoying a peaceful stroll. Jasmine spent her time people-watching, mostly. There were people walking their dogs which were still quadrupedal like they were in the human world. If I go to the dog world then what will they be walking? She imagined naked humans on their hands and knees being walked around on leashes. It made her shudder.
The rest of the afternoon was spent enjoying the sun and eating some ice cream she got from a kiosk. The waffle cone it came in was as big as a water glass with scoops like grapefruits. The moment she made her first lick she found herself in a lapping frenzy. Flicks of liquid chocolate were splashed across her lips and face. The thing was huge and yet the entire cone was in her stomach in a matter of seconds. She stood in the middle of the pathway, face covered in chocolate, a severe chill grating at her teeth and mouth. God, I’m a monster. The people around her didn’t seem to care, really. They passed by her messy face without a second glance. Hopefully that meant everyone was a slob when they ate. She made a quick trip back to the kiosk for some napkins which the server was happy to provide.
Her walk around the park was relaxing, but nonetheless hampered by the constant thrum of traffic that wrung in the park like being in the center of a colosseum. Jasmine steeled herself for the journey home, promising to keep herself calm and collected so that if anything happened she wouldn’t lose her head. After what felt like half an hour of white-knuckle driving she made it home safe.
The next day she was scheduled for work. If there was any activity she had the most trepidation towards it was acting as hostess for some ravenous, aggressive, hard headed mustelids with claws for days. She showed up on time and went through the usual motions of greeting people and showing them to their seats. Almost every meal served was either a giant steak or a triple-stacked burger, all of which were ordered rare. Steaks Jasmine would’ve thought were only for food challenges were served regularly. Just like that they would be gone with startling speed, usually without the help of forks or knives. It relieved Jasmine to see patrons devouring their food with the same recklessness that she had done to her ice cream the day before. By the end of her shift she had worked up quite an appetite and ordered a large steak of her own. She devoured it with typical ferocity, leaving her chin and shirt soaked in red meat juice. When she was done she started giggling herself silly. She had just demolished a steak that would’ve stopped Adam Richman cold halfway through. To her that was freakin’ hilarious.
The next few days were spent either at work or in front of a TV watching movies and shows. Wolverine media, she found out, was remarkably violent. Scenes depicting action and fights had a certain impact to them that their human and skunk counterparts lacked. Men fighting used their claws. Punches did not sound like smacks but had a brutal knuckle-on-bone crunch like they did in reality. There was no shortage of blood and swearing. With how the protagonists in movies reaped their vengeance on the villains, it was difficult to determine who was really the good guy.
Worst of all, Jasmine fucking loved it. Particularly brutal moments would have her standing out of her seat, pumping her fists, shouting with glee every time a bad guy got their teeth knocked out by someone’s fist. It would leave her with a thumping heart and coursing adrenaline. She had to sit down and pause whatever she was watching just so she could collect herself. Maybe this world isn’t too healthy to live in for very long, she thought.
Her saving grace came in the form of a package in the mail that arrived a week after her transformation. Once again it was a medium sized cardboard box that lacked any return address. A note was taped to it with the name JASMINE written on it in familiar handwriting.
Dear Jasmine,
I hope that’s the right name to call you by now. You’ve spent some time using it both as a skunk and a wolverine. If not, my apologies.
How’s being a wolverine? Exhilarating, I hope. I thought it would be the perfect animal to spice up your life. They are a rather rowdy bunch, aren’t they? A tad too violent for my tastes. Always picking fights and trying to one up each other with their gaudy cars and dress, something I’m certain you’ve noticed first hand.
If it hasn’t been to your liking, you’re more than welcome to try on this new suit I’ve brought. This one’s not quite as related to either skunks or wolverines. Perhaps it’ll offer the most unique experience yet.
Sincerely,
Leland Gaunt
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 09 July 2023
Tiger(taur)
This was the second of Leland’s letters to find Jasmine, and yet it offered no less feeling of being watched than the first. She lived in the same address as always, so it made sense Leland still knew where she lived. However, she doubted moving anywhere on Planet Earth would help her escape his omnipresent eye. She folded the letter and set it on the counter. The package was cradled against her in one arm. It was light, or at least it felt that way. Everything on a human scale was smaller to a beefy wolverine, as Jasmine had gotten used to over the past week. Now to find out what was in store next for her if she decided to go through with it again.
She took it with her to the couch where she sat down and put it on the coffee table in front of her. She extended her index claw and wondered what creature would be presented to her this time? Going along with the theme of animals she’d been so far, she expected something like a weasel or a ferret, maybe. Badger? Mink? Stoat? Those were all mustelids, and though skunks weren’t technically mustelids, she included them in the same bunch. More possibilities ran through her mind as she stuck her claw into the box flap and sliced the tape down the middle. She opened the flaps and immediately recognized the orange and black-striped fur pattern of a tiger.
A toothy smile lit up her face. I get to be a tiger? Sweet! She pulled the onesie out of the box and stood up to see it at its full height. Though it was light on the whole, the fur was rough and dense, nearly more so than her own impenetrable wolverine coat. The shoulders were broad, and the sleeves were spacious. The underbelly was a smooth tan color. She pulled up the hood to see cute, black-tipped ears with white dots on the back of them. A fun fact she knew about tigers was that those dots were meant to resemble eyes in order to ward off ambush from other tigers. Jasmine gave them a little flick with her fingers and giggled.
But there was more to the suit than she expected, something very strange. Even as she had stood up to let it unfold to its full height, it wasn’t completely out of the box yet. The legs were out, but the torso they were attached to was still folded up. It looked like the suit was made of an overly long tube of tiger fur with the hind legs haphazardly attached at the center. She picked one leg up and rubbed it between her thumb and fingers. It felt normal like she could fit her legs in them, so why were they so oddly placed?
Jasmine pulled the suit further out of the box, pouring it over her shoulder as she did. It came out of the box in short order, bringing with it another pair of legs and the tail. That confused the hell out of Jasmine. What is it? A six-legged tiger? A tigerpede? She held it in front of her to inspect the legs in the middle again. To see the whole thing she had to hoist it in the air way over her head. Even then, the second pair of legs (the actual hind legs, it seemed) were half on the carpet.
“How the actual hell am I supposed to wear this thing?” Jasmine muttered to herself as she continued looking over the strangely proportioned onesie. The zipper ran down from the collar like always, but was only as long as she’d expect on another suit, reaching just short of the middle set of limbs. She tried envisioning what it would turn her into. There was the tigerpede, an elongated tiger with three sets of legs, a cursed image she didn’t want to hold on to for too long. It didn’t make sense either considering every form she’d taken so far was anthropomorphic. Maybe it stands on two legs and has four arms? Like Goro from Mortal Kombat. That didn’t make much more sense either.
Wait. I think I’m looking at this wrong. Jasmine turned around and laid the suit face down on the couch from. It was long enough to dangle over each armrest. Looking at the deflated onesie from that perspective helped build a more accurate idea of what it really was. What if it isn’t six-legged or anthropomorphic? What if it’s both? She grabbed the suit by the shoulders and lifted the top section upright so that it was at a right angle with the couch. Finally, it clicked. A centaur.
Images of bare-chested men, their torsos rising from the shoulders of a horse’s body, flooded Jasmine’s mind. The horse bodies were promptly replaced by a tiger’s. Then the human portions became tigrine. Yeah, that makes a lot more sense, she thought. What was that supposed to be called? A centiger? A tigertaur? She didn’t know the etymology of the word centaur. Too lazy to look it up, she went with the term Tigertaur for the simple reason that it sounded cooler.
No matter the name, there was still the question of how she was supposed to wear it. Where was she supposed to put her legs? The forelegs made more sense as then the torso portion would fit her, but what about the rear half? Maybe she was supposed to put her legs in the hind pair while her arms went in the forelegs, but that would leave her completely inside of it with the torso section unfilled. She thought of those two-person horse suits where there was one person for each pair of legs; one in the front, another in the back. Maybe I can convince Maria to huddle in this thing with me, she thought facetiously. We’ll both be a tigertaur. Wonder how that’ll work. It wouldn’t, she knew. No doubt Leland intended the suit for Jasmine and for Jasmine only. The previous onesies had changed her in mysterious ways already. Whatever this suit would accomplish couldn’t be too incredible by comparison.
That was if she put it on. The worlds she had traveled to so far were both dramatically different to each other based on the animal she had become. She had trouble imagining what a world full of tigertaurs would entail. The wolverine world she lived in now was a hyper-competitive society based on might-makes-right. What would a world of savage predators entail? How the hell did they even drive cars? Do cars even exist? It seemed dangerous (minus the no cars possibility). Jasmine looked at putting the suit on similarly to jumping into a tiger pit at the zoo. Sure, she would be a tiger too, but that only helped a little when everyone else was one too. Then again, if everyone was a tiger, perhaps nobody was.
Throughout the entire time of that wandering train of thought she had been holding the suit up. Looking at it again brought images of strapping tiger men, their muscular abs fading into the feral majesty of a tiger whose physique outmatched even the strongest man. She envisioned walking, each step twinging their muscles across a tautly wound collage of black stripes. They walked the streets casually, their splendor nothing out of the ordinary. One would greet the other, no more aware of each other’s species than Jasmine would here in this world. She wondered, more seriously this time, what does a society like that look like? Only one way to find out.
She considered taking the suit to the bathroom like before, but reckoned correctly that it would be too small for what she was going to turn into, even considering that it was sized up for a wolverine like her. The living room would provide the most space, given she moved some furniture around. Quick work was made of the place. Thanks to her wolverine strength moving the couch was no issue, nor the coffee table. It left a broad plane of open carpet featuring square depressions where the couch and table legs had been. From there she stripped herself nude and chucked her clothes aside. I wonder what kind of clothes they’ll have in this place. Will I need two pairs of pants, or just one?
She picked the suit off the couch and brought it over to the center of the floor. Pulling the zipper down from the collar revealed that the portion she would be stepping into did not lead into the back portion. It was smooth fabric/skin with no opening for a second party to fill. So much for that idea, not like I was eager to invite anyone else into this thing. She turned around and held the suit behind her so she could step into it. It fit to her legs snugly thanks to the great fluff of wolverine fur. The back half hung from it awkwardly as she pulled the torso up and fit her arms through the sleeves. Normally the suit would shrink to her skin once the transformation started, but it looked like it was doing that already with how tightly it fit around her. Her muscle gut jutted halfway out of the zipper.
“Hope I can zip this damn thing up,” she muttered to herself as she grabbed the pull tab. It took a deep inhale and some quick jerks, but she was able to close it all the way to the collar. Her belly and bosom looked ready to explode out of the front side, but it was on. She looked over her shoulder at the second half of the suit. It sagged from her lower back like a deflated bounce house. The legs were flat on the carpet with the tail running between them. How is it gonna fill that out?
She turned her head back forward to inspect her chest. The first thing she noticed was that the zipper had disappeared already, trapping her in the suit. “Damn. So we’re doing this already?” Suddenly the suit shrank on her, sucking into her skin more tightly than it already was. “Oof. I’ll take that as a yes.”
The process went as always. Orange fur slipped down her paws, swallowing her palms, thumbs, and fingers to the tips. She saw the same happen to her ankles and feet, thus her massive wolverine steppers were gone. The hoodie performed the same around her head, swallowing her face from every direction until it had filled her visor and snout. There was no mirror for her to look into, but looking to her left she saw the TV’s empty black screen. A hazy reflection of herself looked back, something whose gulonian features were rapidly vanishing.
It started with the usual plunge of pressure onto her musculature. Her physique started to slim, starting with that pronounced gut and bosom of hers. The sensations stretched across her arms and legs as the biceps and hamstrings thinned themselves out. It wasn’t painful, but by no means was it comfortable. It was felt across her entire body, most severely wherever the most drastic changes were occurring. She put her paws over her chest where her breasts were sinking slowly. They flattened out across her pecs which, though smaller than they had been, were still broad and chiseled. The same happened to her trunk which now featured an immaculately carved set of washboard abs.
Am I becoming a man again? She reached between her legs to find out, but found nothing. Literally. There was nothing there. Anything like a reproductive organ was gone, leaving nothing but smooth, fuzzy pelvis. For a moment she panicked, afraid that she’d be robbed of her sex. Then she remembered, If I’m going to be a tigertaur, those are going to be somewhere else behind me. She looked over her shoulder and was shocked to see the rear portion of the suit standing on its hindlegs. It did so shakily, looking like it was only partially filled by air or flesh. Much of the skin was still wrinkled and the tail still sagged. Jasmine dared to touch it. There was something inside of it, ill-defined and turgid, flesh and bone, perhaps. She watched as it rose gradually and gained its footing, becoming a part of her just like a limb.
She was torn out of her fascination by a sudden squeeze of pressure across her bones. The suit was in its final stages, i.e. the suckiest part: bending her skeleton into the proper shape. It was hardest on her limbs and skull which had to force themselves into a tigrine mold. It felt like giant hands were squishing her cranium like it was wet clay. Her snout was underneath an anvil as it shrunk into her face and began sprouting longer, thicker whiskers. She had it no better in the legs as her femurs were squashed into humeri and her tib-fibs became uln-rads.
But the worst of it was in her spine. The hilt of it fell out of her pelvis and drilled into the rear portion of the suit, now officially a tiger body. Nerve-endings spread across it like a million tiny fingers, each one discovering a new part of her to feel and experience. It was like blood rushing into a numb part of the body; pins and needles all around. She hissed and swore throughout. More bones were being created from old ones. Her pelvis turned into a sternum complete with ribs, although they had no lungs to protect. She felt the last of her vertebrae spill into her tail, bringing with them sensation and control. Once they were at the tip, she automatically performed her first tail flick as a tiger.
Then, as always, all of those unpleasant sensations vanished. It was over. The tigertaur was complete.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 04 December 2023
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
Forest
“Easy, easy,” he cooed to himself. “Like riding a bike. A four-legged, half ton, living, breathing bike.” A few more laps around the floor and he’d hit a rhythm. It wasn’t rocket science; just don’t think about it. If anything it required less finesse than what a human needed to walk on two legs. Before long he was making trips back and forth across the cabin like it was nothing. Put One Foot in Front of the Other from Santa Clause is Coming to Town started playing in his head, making him wonder, Do tigers even celebrate Christmas? Was there a tigertaur Jesus like there was a skunk and wolverine Jesus? Can you even crucify a tigertaur?
Once that morbid thought had passed, he wondered again what kind of world waited for him outside the cabin. What kind of society of tigertaurs existed out there? How was his family? Was this the same place as his apartment? Or somewhere else entirely? With no windows to peer through (or look at his reflection in) his only source for an answer was through the door in front of him. It was crude, like just about everything else around him. It hardly stood out against the surrounding walls, being made out of the same wood, it seemed. He sauntered over to it and pushed it open.
The light of the outside poured in, but he was not greeted by the hum of the city he lived in. There was no city, no apartment, no town, nor any other measure of civilization. Before him were the trees of a forest so dense he could not see past the first several yards. Their deciduous canopy blanketed the mossy ground with their shadow, letting through only the thinnest rays of sunlight. There were no other tigers, or any animate life to speak of. Only nature’s murmur was there to greet him, doing so only begrudgingly.
Jared stood in the doorway for a few moments longer, eyes scanning the yonder tree line. Is this it? Where am I? He took the first intrepid steps out into the open, feeling the moist earth sink beneath his paw pads. Looking to his right and left he saw nothing but more forest, its atmosphere blued over by a thin mist. His black ears strained into the woods, flickering at whatever hints of sound they could find. There was still precious little, none of which alluded to company.
Am I alone out here? Is this even anywhere near my apartment? He stepped the rest of the way outside, out of the cabin’s shade. He looked at it and saw that it resembled a hunting cabin like it had on the inside. If that’s what it was, what was he doing there? Was it his or someone else’s? Nothing resembling a trail led into the forest, leading him to doubt that it was meant for anyone else. If this was his place, then where had everything else gone?
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 14 December 2023
Through the Forest
The answers, if he would ever find them, were deeper in the forest where he would have to go find them. He took a deep breath. It’s alright. I’m a tiger. Nobody’s gonna mess with me, right? I mean, other tigers I guess, but something tells me I’m not going to run into any of them soon. Thus, he began his journey away from the cabin, turning his head to look back once before it was swallowed by the trees and he couldn’t see it anymore.
The woods were not so suffocatingly dense throughout. Not far into his trip did he wander into varying ground, the earth swelling over hills so steep they were bare with rock. The ground was strewn with twigs that would snap beneath his feet, adding a somber soundtrack to his lonesome journey. The canopy was alive with birds, their chirps being his first bit of company since his arrival in this world. He would see one on occasion as it hopped and twitched its way up a branch before shuttling off into flight. They regarded him no more than the trees they flitted between, their beady black eyes betraying no fear of the large cat roaming the forest floor.
His ears flicked suddenly, and he came to a stop. It was automatic, done without his input. He rounded his eyes and turned towards the noise to filter it more clearly. A steady rumble in his ears made his fur stand on ends. He was drawn to it, though he wasn’t sure what it was. Instinct made him turn in its direction and journey towards it.
The building dryness in his throat told him what it was before he began to recognize the sound of a running stream. He saw it when cresting over a hill, just a thin brook no deeper than up to his knees. It ran from as far as he could see in both directions, vanishing like a long stretch of road. The air was rife with the smell of moist earth and the visits of other animals. He smacked his lips while realizing how thirsty he was. It had been a long walk. He’d earned himself a drink.
He came up to the bank. His feet sank into the sandy ground, leaving a trail of his gargantuan footprints. He saw his reflection in the surface, and though it warped and bounced with the flow of water, it offered the first real look at himself since being transformed. What struck him first was the size of his head atop his shoulders. He brought his paws up to feel it and realized most of it was thick, heavy fur. Kneeling on his forelegs gave him a better look.
Though his eyes were remarkably large with dangerously yellow irises, they maintained the same shape that had defined him since his days as a human. His jowls were massive, heavily padded as they were by a bush of white and black fur thicker than his paw. Wings of white sprouted around his eyes and onto his brow. The pattern of black stripes was symmetrical across his face. He opened his mouth and saw giant, sharp fangs outclassing what he’d had as a wolverine by several leagues. His tongue was a massive paddle studded with white flesh spikes capable of rending flesh in just a few licks. Framing it were glistening black lips that quivered with his every exhale.
Jared was no expert on tigers, but he thought he knew what kind he was. His massive size and the kind of forest he was in lent to the idea that he was a Siberian tiger, the most massive of all the subspecies. He couldn’t hope to name all of them, not without his phone handy. The other two kinds he knew of were Bengal and Sumatran tigers. Neither of them was this massive or fluffy. If he was one of them, he would’ve expected to have been transported to a jungle somewhere. He smiled to himself, pride swelling a little. I got the coolest kind of tiger there is. Awesome.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 18 December 2023
Explore
Breaking his self-appreciation was his building thirst, a reminder of why he’d gone there in the first place. He noticed how he was already kneeling on his forelegs but couldn’t reach his face into the water like a cat would. He leaned over and dipped his fingers into the stream, feeling its gently persuasive current pushing and swirling around him. He let his rear legs fold underneath him, forming a giant tiger loaf so he could get comfortable and start drinking. He scooped some water into his paw and drank from it. It cooled the fur around his mouth and trickled down his whiskers. The taste suffered from the soil but did not hinder the water’s blissful quench.
He took a few more pawfuls before wiping his paw on his chest and taking more time to look around. Where would he go now? What was there to do? He could follow the creek for as long as it wandered. Maybe he’d find whatever it fed into, but how far away was that? Would he be able to find his cabin from there? What if he ran into another tiger? Were there even any out there? Of course there had to have been. Unless this was some mythical realm full of unique creatures (which wouldn’t have surprised him at this point) there was no way he was the only one of his kind. He knew tigers, like all large predators, were extremely territorial. Maybe this was his, and any potential rival who wandered into it would leave upon realizing it was his.
He looked around at the forest. Is all of this really mine? He sniffed the air and picked up something he hadn’t given mind to. It was the smell of him, that which wafted on the wind and hung over like a fog. He’d been here before many times. This was his stream, and no one else’s. Those who decided to drink from it did so on his accord and at their own risk. Nature documentaries he’d seen in the past came to mind with figures of how much territory a single tiger possessed. He didn’t recall the exact number, but he knew it was measured in square miles. Not acres like some plot of land, but square miles.
And all of it was his to explore.
Jared got back on his feet. He took a deep breath through his nose, flooding his mind with the many intricate scents that hovered around him. Looking back up the stream in the direction it flowed, he wondered without concern, What will I find at the end of that? So he ventured forward, off to discover what belonged to him.
* * *
The creek wandered for a great stretch, reaching into varying swathes of flora as unique as they were foreign to Jared. More hills greeted him, some affording good views of the land around him. In the distance he saw the blue ridges of a mountain range, their slopes textured by the clumped treetops. A river, likely the one his creek fed into, snaked between them and through the Manchurian topography. As nice as the thought may have been, he doubted all of it was his territory, but he was on a mission just to see how much of it was.
He did not make it to the end of the creek when night fell. The deerskin back at his cabin sounded very comfortable at that moment, but he made do with a makeshift den he carved out of the ground between two massive shrubs. Finding the best position to sleep in proved a bothersome task. Was he supposed to lie all the way down on his side or huddle his tiger beneath him and sleep with his anthro side upright? A few minutes of squirming in place passed before he had to remind himself not to think about it. Muscle memory. Muscle memory. Soon he was slowly lowering himself down on his side, letting his upper portion lay on the ground. He huddled his legs and folded his paws beneath his head. He closed his eyes, tried not to think about his cabin, and fell asleep shortly after.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 22 December 2023