A Wrenzephyr2 - verse TF
(Woman to Wolf)
There comes a point in every punk’s life that they come to an unequivocal, irrevocable realization: old people suck.
Sam was realizing this now, looking to the old woman exasperatedly. The redhead dusted her green shirt off as her ‘venerable elder’ continued to rail against her fashion choice, from the piercings to the treatise on how the Union Jack was unpatriotic.
Of course, she should have realized this was going to happen. The day had been going so well before this… The girl grit her teeth, running a hand through her short, spiked hair. Maybe after this she’d head to her sister’s, see what trouble they could get into.
“Are you even listening to me, young lady-and I do use that term generously!” The crone cried, a glare on her face. Sam hoped that she didn’t get that bad by the time she was forty…
“I am. Which is why my day sucks right now.” Sam picked some dirt from under her nails idly. “But that’ll pass, just like you will at some point. So do what old people do best and get busy dying.”
Harsh? Yes. Amusing? Definitely.
Sam grinned as the brunette’s face turned a shade between crimson and violet, and she rose from her bench. “Now, if you don’t have anything better to do than harass people at the park… Jog on.” She flipped the woman off, blowing her a raspberry for good measure.
That settled, the redhead hooked her thumbs in her leather belt, the cross on her collar jingling as she turned. Why had she thought that visiting the park would be a good decision?
“You insolent bitch!” The woman crowed, grabbing Sam by the shoulder. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that, dog!”
Sam’s face soured, if only for a second. This woman had given her all the excuse to give her a good right hook. It wouldn’t be anything too bad, just enough to knock some sense into the brunette; to show her that there were consequences for her actions.
Sam’s emerald eyes flashed as she spun on the spot, pulling an arm behind her head. She shifted her stance, threw her hips into the punch, and yelped as her knuckles met stone.
Literal stone, not figurative. The woman’s face was marble where the punch had landed, and Sam’s knuckles ached with protest. “Oh, you weren’t expecting that, were you? Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, shall we? You can just call me ‘Witch’, that’s all you’ll be able to understand soon enough.”
“W-what the hell?” Sam grit her teeth, throwing a punch with her other hand.
This time Witch caught it in a hand, moving impossibly fast. Sam’s eyes widened as she tried to pull free, realizing just how much trouble she was in.
“Hell, indeed. You know, leather doesn’t suit a girl as much as it does an animal, wouldn’t you say?” Witch smirked, her brown eyes flashing azure. As they glowed, so too did Sam’s caught hand, and the girl whimpered as she began to change.
It wasn’t painful-well, not as paiunful as it should have been. Rather, it was like cracking every knuckle on her hand-then every bone in it. The loud pops marked the deformation of her fingers, which shrank to small nubs. Claws poked from their tips, and gray fur scratched out from the backs of her hands.
“What the hell is going on?” Sam recoiled, pressing her hand against Witch’s chest and trying to escape.
“Not a clever one, are you? We’ll need to fix that, teach you some tricks. After all, bitches like you so desperately need to be tamed.” Witch cooed, bringing her free hand to Sam’s ears. She scratched them, and that twisting sensation of change played along the redhead’s lobes.
This was almost worse because she could hear it happening. Every shift of cartilage echoed through her head, made worse by the fact that her sense of hearing was getting better and better. Sam’s heart sank and she tried to pull away harder.
“N-no, don’t make me into some freak!” She yelped. Her heart drummed in her chest as she reached for her phone, trying to call someone, anyone for help. The police? Jenny? Anyone!
The second her fingers met the cool glass of her phone’s screen, they cramped too, and Sam howled with dismay as her right hand met the same fate as her left. The phone fell from her forming paw as her thumb pulled back towards her wrist, wiggling as its muscles degenerated.
“Less of that nonsense, dear.” The woman smiled serenely, dropping Sam’s paw so she could grip the girl’s cheeks. She squished them with impossibly strong fingers, then began to pull.
“Hggnrrff-hewoaarp!” Sam’s voice regressed to animalistic growls as her face was stretched like clay, molded to the woman’s touch. She could see a snout clearly in her peripheral vision, and she crinkled a darkening nose as gray fur tickled its way across her form.
She looked up to Witch, her tongue swelling in her mouth, killing her attempt to beg for her life. “Thtrraarrrp…” She whimpered at how ugly and coarse her voice was, only to groan a second later as Witch released her hands, shoving hard on Sam’s shoulders.
The effect was immediate, and Sam was cast to all fours like a common animal. The girl tried to stand, desperately attempting to lift herself to a bipedal stance. This terrified her the most: helplessness. Sam was always so confident, so self-reliant… Now that was all being taken away from her, to the point that she couldn’t even stand. After all, what could an animal do?
Fangs legthened in her mouth as her smallish breasts sank into a barreling chest, and she felt her hackles rise. Hackles… She hadn’t realized she’d grown those. Tears dewed at her eyes a second before she lost the ability to cry, and Sam shook her head in a canine fashion to clear them.
She knew what she could do. Her body was screaming at her to do it. The changing girl pulled back darkening lips, revealing her sharp, yellow fangs. She growled menacingly, lowering herself instinctively to a crouched posture.
Even if this woman was a witch, she was still human. Sam could deal with that. Her pierced nose flattened out completely on her snout as her lungs expanded, and her heart grew to thump hard in her chest. Ever closer to a wolf, Sam kicked off her boots.
Her toes curled as they met the fresh air, only to bulge as the changes met them, too. Her soles swelled out into lush paw pads, and the same claws that tipped her forepaws grew from her nails. She scraped them against the ground as she rested her paws against the pavement, growling as her arches shrank and deformed.
It was a like a foot massage delivered by a medieval torturer, too harsh in places and leaving her with a feeling that she’d been broken. That feeling soon passed as her body adapted to it, and Sam kicked off her jeans next.
They slipped easily from her hips, and she glared up to the woman as color drained from the world. Sam’s piercings glistened on her snout as she growled; then she pounced, fangs outstretched, drool dripping from her maw.
The woman slapped her. Hard.
Whatever magic she’d used to change her cheek to marble was used once more, and Sam’s canine vision swam as she thumped to the ground, her long jaw aching. Her spine stretched into a tail so that it could hang behind her in defeat, and she groaned as her arms and legs twisted into the appendages of a wolf.
Desperately, she tried to think of something else to do. It couldn’t end like this, she could bite her again or run back to the woods and find her pack… Pack?
Sam’s emerald eyes widened as gold began to creep into them, and she staggered back from Witch. Her mind was changing too, just like her body had! There had to be something she could do about it, but it was so hard to think of…
Hard to think. Sam’s wolf heart froze over as she realized she was having trouble coming up with any thoughts, let alone those of escape. She whimpered instinctively; then once more in distress at how easily the canine sound came to her.
“That’s a good girl. Don’t worry, you’ll still be able to understand me. I don’t have much patience for teaching completely stupid animals, after all,” the corners of Witch’s mouth pulled up into a smile, “just mostly stupid ones.”
“Prrrggglhyyneeese!” Sam begged. “Hggnyrrrf waorrf! HgghRUFF!” She barked, forgetting how to speak. Her rebellious phase, her life with her family, her sister… No thought was safe from the void that had claimed her mind, and Sam whined loudly.
She wasn’t a wolf, she was a two-legs! She knew she couldn’t know the word for what she’d been, but… Had she been anything but a wolf? She had to have been, that was why she was upset with Witch, her owner, her… No? No! No?
Sam’s ears flattened against her skull as she let out a downcast whimper. She cast her gaze to the ground, struggling to reconcile the memories of a dying girl with the world of a newly-born wolf. The last thing that flitted through the mind was the smile of a girl who looked like the person she’d been, a laugh and a sentence. “I love you, sis.”
Then the animal won.
The wolf staggered to her feet, shaking her head and jingling the cross on her leather collar. Her wristbands slipped easily from her paws as she padded towards her mistress, and her tongue lolled from her mouth.
She licked at the woman’s hands devotedly, heart soaring as Witch scratched her ears. She wagged her tail as the woman pulled her clothes from her body. And, she barked with content as the woman trailed her hands along her collar.
“Good girl. You know, you dressed like a terrible person… But I think these fit a wolf just fine. Wouldn’t you agree, Bitch?”
The wolf barked her agreement, nuzzling into Witch’s pets. This woman was her mistress, and was perfect for it. She watched the woman stand from her crouch, then eagerly padded after her as she began to walk, away from the last remnants of her old life.