Darren trundled his shopping cart down the aisles, glancing down at his shopping list… bread… milk… laundry detergent… Turning into his aisle, he finally looked up, wheels squeaking as he stopped his cart dead in his tracks.
In front of him was, he thought, an impossibly beautiful woman, staring at the detergent in front of her, glancing from box to box with a confused look on her face, framed by rich orange hair. He paused for a moment to take her in, not caring if anyone noticed he was staring… how could he pull his eyes away from the sight of her?
She was clad in a skintight black bodysuit, hugging tightly around her waist, almost wrinkle-free, reaching up to barely cover her breasts, plunging down between her legs… his gaze was drawn down, the curve of her legs wrapped in perfect fishnet tights, tapering down to gleaming black high-heels. She stepped back a little, tottering slightly on them, clearly unused to wearing them. A furred tail hung behind her, matching her hair, bands of light and dark along its length. Darren thought for a moment it was just another part of the costume until it curled up behind her, a display of frustration as she set one of the boxes back on the shelf.
The woman turned to face him, confusion written across her face, no sign she was annoyed at his staring. It was then Darren noticed her ears, high and pointed triangles of white and black fur, twitching amongst her hair.
“Sir? Sorry to bother you, but could you reach the laundry tag above my butt? I’ve forgotten the right numbers, and I can’t reach it on my own,” she turned, lifting her ass high into the air, furred tail rising with it, “it should be just below my tail…”
THE DAY BEFORE
“Alright, that’s all the paperwork sorted…” the manager of Eden, the city’s newest nightclub, collected the scattered sheets of paper together, stacking them together on the bar. Across from her, Samantha shuffled awkwardly on the stool, still not quite sure how she’d managed to get a job so easily.
Around her, the bar was busy with workers, putting in the finishing touches on the animal-themed nightclub. Plants covered every available patch of wall, creepers and vines rising around support columns, some dangling down from the ceiling. Workers, up on ladders, wove strings of lights into the ceiling amongst the fake canopy, forming the pattern of a night sky amongst the foliage. Every so often she could hear the scrape and thud of another table being moved into place.
“Okay!” the sudden sound of the manager’s voice snapped her attention back, the older woman smiling warmly, “so, before you go, we’d like to get you set with your new uniform. Now, it says here…” she paused for a moment to scan the paperwork, “your favourite animals are red pandas, so we’ll get that sorted for you… I hope you don’t mind having a tail?”
“Oh, um, no…” the question caught Samantha by surprise, though it didn’t seem too unusual a request, “do you have a red panda though? Really?”
“Of course! The uniform is tailored to you, and we want a lot of variety in our staff…” stepping out from around the bar, the manager led on through the maze of vines and stepladders to a door at the back, opening it wide for Samantha to pass through, “if you don’t mind stripping down, then you’ll find the uniform in the locker with your Samantha.”
“Strip down, like, naked…?” Samantha paused, uncertain, glancing into the room. It was plainly if comfortably furnished with a couple of cushioned benches, a bank of lockers lining one of the walls.
“If you don’t mind,” the manager’s voice carried a firm edge, but was warm, and reassuring, “I’m afraid the costumes are… skin tight, and besides, there’s no real room for modesty here.”
“Yeah, I guess not…” her voice was still a little hesitant, but she found herself blushing at the idea. After all, it was the kind of job she’d been dreaming off.
“Perfect! I’ll leave you to it, just give a shout if you need me,” the manager replied, giving Samantha a reassuring nudge into the room, closing the door behind her.
Stepping inside, Samantha turned around, taking a moment to calm herself, catching her reflection in a mirror… already imagining herself in a sexy new outfit. Eager to see what her uniform looked like, she quickly stripped down, setting her clothes down on the bench beside her. The room warm enough that she didn’t seem to mind, even as her bare feet paced the cool floor towards the lockers, scanning over the names… Charlie… Mischa… Samantha! Already neatly written on one of the nameplates.
“Guess they prepare quickly,” she thought aloud, opening the locker and finding… nothing, “or not…”
She stepped back, suddenly wondering if it was such a good idea stripping down naked in the back room of a strange club, half-expecting a wall to fall away.
“Hey! There’s… there’s no costume, or anything…” she turned to pick up her clothes, finding the bench bare, “wait… did you take my clothes?”
No-one answered.
Samantha stepped towards the door again, ready to beat it down with her fists if she had to, a sudden wave of warmth catching her off guard. Her heart fluttered for a moment, breath shot, a strange feeling of pressure growing inside her, pushing out against her stomach. Resting her hands on her bare skin, she could feel the warmth inside her, something strange and soft and tickling pushing out of her, pushing through her skin.
Tendrils of black spread out from under her hands, tendrils moving across her body like spilt ink, squeezed from a sponge. She gasped, heart beating faster as she looked down, the feeling of pressure growing as the black spread across her torso. Tracing her fingers along its path, she could feel it changing her. Skin pushed out ever so slightly, soft and smooth, cells breaking and weaving together into dense fabric. It wrapped around her, hugging her waist, tugging inwards, smoothing out the curve of her body.
It continued to spread down, spiralling around her hips, running between her legs. Tendrils of black splashing against an invisible barrier, edges forming in perfect V lines at her hips. She could feel more of her skin changing, fabric settling, the growing pressure pushing out against her ass. It squeezed her cheeks together, flesh merging, smoothed out by her changing skin. Reaching back, she ran her hands across them, only a gentle valley running down her rear. Her fingers followed it, running between her legs, a sudden wave of pleasure as she realised just how far the changes had spread, fingers brushing over a soft rise of sensitive fabric.
“Oh… oh wow…” was all Samantha managed to say, blushing deep red at the thrill of being caught like this.
She eyed the black moving up, weaving its way up her body, feeling the now-familiar sensation of flesh turning to fabric, tightening around her body, hugging and squeezing her. It flowed between her breasts, running through her cleavage, reaching further as it spread over her nipples, stopping only when it had formed the perfect twin peaks of a corset. Her corset. The tightening sensation grew stronger, gently hugging and lifting her breasts, cleavage smoothing out slightly as her new ‘clothes’ settled into place.
“Okay… okay… calm yourself, Samantha…,” she stepped back, breathing deeply, lifting her hands away, “remember you’re basically naked, still…” For a moment, her body was still, and Samantha wondered if that was it: a corset designed to balance between revealing and modest, but she sensed there must be more to her new ‘uniform’.
Turning around, she followed the line of the bodysuit around her torso, the smooth black contours running down her back, a glimpse of orange fluff above the curve of her ass catching her eye. With each moment, it grew out further, a growing feeling of pressure at the base her spine pushing behind it. Nervously, she reached back, feeling the growing tail as it emerged. Fingers dug through the bands of dark orange, expecting to feel fabric and instead of finding fur, soft and dense. The weight of it surprised her as it grew, her spine pushing out with it, muscles knitting their way through. It stopped just over two feet long, almost half the width of her ass at the base, brushing against the backs of her thighs and tickling the fabric of her tights.
She twisted and turned, watching it sway out behind her, the weight of it tugging her backwards with it. Fingers dug in deeper into the fur, loving the feel of it, the fact it was a part of her now. And, hey, it was pretty cute, she thought. It didn’t take many guesses to realise which animal it was, thoughts flashing back to the end of the interview, her favourite animal, “that’s- a red panda’s.”
The sensation of something digging into her heel caught her attention; something pushing in… or out. Instinct made her try to scuff it away, but it only dug in deeper, firmly stuck to her foot. She braced herself against a wall, lifting up her leg, craning to see the strange black shape lodged firmly in her heel. Reaching down, she tried to shift it, feeling only a sharp twinge of pain as it tugged at her skin.
“It can’t be…” Samantha’s mind raced, heart quickening again. Fabric skin was one thing… was she really growing…?
She ran her fingers across it, feeling her fingers through the heel as if it was any other part of her. There was no gap between it and the skin, only a smooth transition, as it slowly shifted further out of her heel, tugging and pulling at her skin as it went, occasionally pinching uncomfortably. Letting go, she watched transfixed as it continued pushing out of her, the black starting to spread out of it and across the sole of her foot.
Soon, she could feel the heel pushing form her other foot, catching her off balance. She stumbled about, occasionally stamping down on a growing heel, the pressure underneath growing more intense with each second. As her heels rose out of her, she found herself rising up on her toes, instinctively arching her back and flexing her tail to help herself keep balance.
There was a twinge around her thighs. A much more subtle feeling than her feet, but impossible to ignore. Thin bands of black started to spread out from the edges of her corset, skin changing into elastic fibres, lines spiralling down and around her legs. Soon, they were joined by more fibres weaving the other way, crisscrossing together into a diamond pattern. The changing skin pulled at the rest of her flesh, tightening slightly, forming the unmistakable pattern of fish-net tights, reaching down to her ankles.
By then, her new heels had grown about two inches, growing wider at the base, forming picture-perfect high heels. She could feel the changes spreading further over her feet: the soles toughening, pressed unnaturally flat by invisible forces, a gentle curve replacing the arches of her feet, the changes working their way down to her toes.
The chilling leather wrapped around them, pressing out from between them, squeezing her toes together, flesh impossibly merging together. Her nails vanished as leather covered them, the shape of individual toes soon replaced with the perfect curve of a shoe. Smooth, black leather wrapped around the sides of her feet, reaching up to the spreading tights, stopping as it formed the neat edge of the top of a beautiful pair of shoes.
The change was stunning… if she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn they were just, well, ordinary shoes. Tentatively, she reached down, brushing her fingers along the seam where shoe and skin met, shivering slightly at the strange feeling. Her fingers ran along the smooth surface, feeling the warmth of the leather, the smooth curves, running along the narrow valley of threads around the top. There was a clear boundary, but there was no gap at all. One moment, the leather of a shoe; the next, bare skin. Well, almost bare… a few moments later, and the weaving pattern of her tights worked their way down, joining neatly the edges of her shoes. No matter how much she pried, they were firmly stuck, a permanent part of her. Closing her eyes, she tried to wiggle her toes, but could no longer make any sense of individual digits: it all felt like a single mass now.
“Shoes…,” she whispered to herself, slowly setting them down on the floor, feeling the cool of the concrete floor beneath them. The sensation was dulled slightly, but if she closed her eyes she would have sworn she was barefoot. “My feet are… shoes.”
“Easy does it…” Forcing herself to stand, her new ‘shoes’ wobbled slightly beneath her, Samantha’s built-in heels taller than anything she’d worn before. Keeping her eyes on the gleaming leather, she took a step forward, then another, steadily getting used to the feeling of her changed feet: the way they made her sway with every step, suddenly so conscious of her ass behind her, and the swaying tail behind it. The feeling they were a part of her, tugging and pulling at her body with every step, the stiff leather almost tight but at the same time perfectly comfortable.
She made her way over to the mirror, so desperate to see how her changed body looked. Her body was stunning, the corset and tights hugging the curves of her body, smoothing out the shape of her, but it was still unmistakably her. “I look… amazing!”
The words caught in her throat, the now familiar tightening feeling wrapping around her neck, her fingers feeling the texture of woven fabric gradually emerging. Watching in the mirror, a band of vibrant red emerged, shining slightly, the ribbon neatly settling around her neck. Pressure built again before the ribbon exploded out in a spiral of red fabric, quickly settling as an almost-impossibly neat bow nestling around her neck.
“Oh, cute!” She smiled, admiring the look of it, starting to wonder just how much was left of the costume. Brushing her hair out of the way, she noticed the formerly blonde curls were darkening slightly, shifting to a rich orange to match her tail. It was then that she felt a twitching, tugging sensation pulling on her ears: they began to rise up her head, slipping between her hair, invisible fingers flattening and shaping them into wide triangles, sticking out either side of her head. Fur quickly grew from them, soft and cute, black inside quickly fading to white tufts standing out against her orange hair, matching a red panda’s perfectly.
“Oh!” Samantha gasped again, eyes lightening up at the sight of them, how cute they made her look, “I think I can get used to these.” She reached up, gently brushing a finger over them, shivering at the tickling sensation. For a while, Samantha stood in front of the mirror, admiring her new body while she looked for any signs of something else changing.
A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts, a male voice coming from the other side, “Samantha? Did you finish changing in there? Boss asked me to check on you…”
“Sure, yeah…” Samantha replied, still a little distracted, walking over to the door. Behind her, her new tail swayed about, subconsciously helping to balance her on her new shoes. She opened the door, finding herself staring out at a muscular torso, naked and perfect, drawing her eyes up to the handsome face of the newcomer, a pair of giraffe’s ears idly twitching on his head.
“Hi! Name’s Charlie, one of the first hires. How about I show you around?” He stepped back, offering a hand, “shoes take a while to get used to, don’t they?”
“Er, yeah,” Samantha replied, blushing slightly as she steadied herself on the giraffe waiter who was probably ‘wearing’ even less than she was, trying not to stare at the shiny bulge standing proud underneath his gleaming black shorts.
“Yeah, the whole uniform is a bit weird, but it’s not so bad - you won’t need to go to the toilet anymore, though you’d better stock up on laundry detergent.”
“Wait- detergent?”
THE NEXT DAY
“Allow clothes to soak for 60 minutes at 40 degrees…”
Samantha lay in her bath, submerging her bodysuited body in the steaming water, staring at the instructions on the detergent box, confusion written across her face. Her feet dangled over the edge, the occasional bubble dotting her fishnets, keeping her shoes safely out of the water. Sighing, she threw the box away, letting her body sink deeper into the tub, feeling the water soak into the tight weave of her fabric skin, the occasional tickle of an escaping air bubble.
“It’s a good job I like bubble baths…”