A Wrenzephyr2 - verse TF
(Man to Girl)
(Woman to Donkey)

Applause. It was something Francesca was used to, but not when she was practicing alone.

The dancer turned, finding a man in ceremonial robes clapping his hands. He was cute, though not exactly her type, with brown hair and gray eyes. And he was intriguing enough to warrant her curiosity.

“I'm sorry, the studio is closed.” She spoke kindly, her accent lending her words a soft tone.

“I know.” He smiled.”I'm not here for dancing lessons, I'm here to offer you an opportunity.”

Ah. It was like that, then. She hummed gently, stroking her necklace. It was the source of her power, a power that attracted a certain type.

Already the man's face was beginning to soften, his stubble receding until he was clean-shaven. His clothes grew looser too, though he hardly noticed.

“And… what sort of opportunity is this?” Francesca asked, feigning interest. It was easier to change people were they were distracted, and far more entertaining.

“An invitation to a Society, something bigger than either of us.” He smiled, spreading his arms in what was no doubt supposed to be a grandiose gesture. It only underlined how he was shrinking, his sleeves now covering his hands completely.

“We've been watching you for a while,” he continued, walking towards her, “and the way you can change people is sublime. Your talents with regression and gender bending are of great interest to us.”

The irony of his words was clearly lost on him, even as his hair lengthened and wound itself into a neat pair of braids.

“Go on…” Francesca cooed, lifting a leg behind herself and smiling as the man mirrored the motion. By now he was closer to a little girl than he was to a man, and he was clearly none the wiser.

“So we'd love to have someone like you in our ranks.” He said, watching her lift her right leg gracefully. Then he blinked, finding his own leg was raised, and that it was the leg of a young woman.

“Oops.” Francesca smirked, twirling and doing a gentle bow. The man mimicked her motions, his robes flowing into a dainty, frilly dress.

Panic was written clear on his face as he struggled, only to become a definite she a second later. “Y-you can't do this to me!” She squeaked, voice cracking.

Francesca tutted. “Young girls shouldn't speak out of turn.” She made her victim do a small spin, and the girl's eyes glazed slightly.

“Yes, Miss Francesca…” she muttered, shaking her head a second later. “N-no! I mean, I'm not”

“Behaving? You are not.” The dancer snapped like the crack of a whip, and the girl squeaked, standing at attention. “Be good, or I'll tell your mother.”

“Mother? But she's…” The girl spun anxiously, her eyes glazing again. “N-no! Not my mama, please! She'll spank me!”

“Of course she will. And that's why you'll behave, and follow me exactly.” Francesca smiled, beginning her practice routine again.

The girl copied her every motion, dancing the rest of her mind away and sealing her in her new body. It left Francesca smiling at a job well done, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the quiet patting of feet on the wooden floor.

Then there was a loud clop, and Francesca was falling, another loud clop echoing through the room as her hands met the ground.

Francesca snapped her eyes open to find her wrists were covered with ugly gray fur, and her hands had become thick, ungainly hooves.

“Oops.” A female voice called snidely, in clear mockery of Francesca's earlier tone.

“Who dares?” Francesca tried to stand, her feet scuffing the floor and clacking loudly against it. She looked to them, aghast, finding them to have been changed the same as her hands.

“Mama!” The little girl grinned, running up to a robed figure and hugging her leg tightly. “Did I do well?”

The new arrival was a blonde woman, who smiled and pet her companion's head. “Very well, I can't wait to show you to everyone when we get back.”

She laughed coldly and the girl joined in, clearly unaware of the joke. Then the robed woman looked to Francesca, extending a hand. “Unlike my partner, I prefer to ask questions after making sure the target isn't going to do anything… stupid.”

Francesca glowered, clapping her hooves against her necklace, intending to change herself back, then repay the intruder for her arrogance.

Nothing. Not even an inkling of magic rose to greet her, and Francesca realized that her hooves were too thick; she couldn't access her necklace.

Some of her dread must have shown on her face, because the intruder laughed. “Is that all you can do?”

She was cocky, which was Francesca's best hope. The dancer shakily rose to her feet, beginning an unsteady dance.

Francesca's motions weren't as fluid as she'd have liked, but they were enough to activate her backup plan: a magical barrier just for such an occasion.

It swept across the woman, regressing her to a collegiate in seconds. Unfortunately, seconds were all Francesca had.

“Oh, you clever bitch!”

The little girl gasped as the robed woman lifted a hand. “Mama, I mean, big sis said a potty word!”

Francesca would have laughed at how completely she'd changed the man if she wasn't having a hard time standing. Her legs snapped and popped, swelling to the clumsy limbs of a pack animal, throwing her off balance.

Again she landed on her hooves, and this time she wouldn't be getting up. Her arms bulged as well, and her hips flared. “No! HEEAWWW!”

Francesca shuddered, realizing that she'd just brayed. It was an ugly sound not befitting a dancer like herself, and she could feel another building in her throat.

Desperately, the woman tried to keep it in. It was a mistake, the tingling in her throat growing worse and worse. Her neck began to lengthen to asinine proportions, and the little girl laughed at her expense.

“Big sis, look, my teacher's becoming a donkey!”

“Yeah she is.” The robed teen glared. “Guess what? I was stronger when I was younger, dumbass. Heh, dumbass.”

Francesca didn't find the joke amusing. “STAWWWWP! PHEEEAWWSE!” She brayed, her teeth bulging, thickening and offsetting themselves.

“Sure thing. Just say “I'll join the Society”.” The girl smirked, waving her hands.

Francesca practically exploded out of her clothing, thick donkey bulk marking an end to her unitard. Gray fur carpeted her body as she brayed in distress.

“AnEEEEthingUAWW!” Francesca could feel her heart hammering in her thick donkey throat. “I’ll join yAWWWW SocEEAWW! HGHEEEAUUW!”

“Sorry, I didn't understand that.” The girl laughed, looking down to her companion. “Did you?”

Francesca's heart sank as she realized she'd been made to humiliate herself for no reason.

“Nope, big sis! I don't speak donkey!” The little girl grinned, and Francesca glared.

“HAWWEEAWW HEE-HAWW!” She kicked her legs, throwing an asinine tantrum. It wasn't fair, wasn't supposed to end like this for her! She just wanted to straighten people out and breed with jacks!

Her ears lengthened just so she could flop them, tossing her head furiously. NO. She could not, would not allow herself to think like an animal.

Sadly, she had little say in the matter, her thoughts dripping from her broadening skull. The woman's brain smoothed, asinine thoughts glossing over memories of etiquette and elegance.

She felt them vanishing and brayed harder, spittle flecking on her thick lips. Everything that made her Francesca was drowned out by mindless braying, and soon she was little more than an jennet in body and mind.

“That'll teach her.” The robed girl grinned, pulling a bridle from within her sleeves. She calmed the dumb beast and slipped a halter over its head, turning to the little girl. “Now, let's get back home and show her off, hm?”