Annie Morphs 09

Friday Cat Club

‘I hereby call to order the latest meeting of Friday Cat Club. As set out in the charter of this esteemed institution, if one or more members have had a rotten week at work, then a period of time no longer than one evening, but no shorter than three-quarters of an hour, will be spent petting a cat or being petted as a cat.’

Annie and I had come up with Friday Cat Club a couple of years ago. Originally, it was supposed to be only an occasional thing, when work was getting us down. The fact that it now took place every Friday gives you an idea of how well things have been going on the employment front of late.

‘Roll Call: Hymek?’

‘Present!’ I said.

‘Annie? Oh, that’s me. Yes, I’m present. Right, according to Section 3, Paragraph 8 of the Friday Cat Club Code, this is an entirely therapeutic undertaking, not a naughty, smutty one, so nudity will be kept to a “bare” minimum – ha-ha! - to minimise potential sauciness. Hence this court-approved oversized t-shirt to cover my bits.’ She gestured to the baggy “Frankie Says Relax” t-shirt she was wearing, long enough to be a nightgown, coming all the way down to her knees. ‘With the approval of all members here present, I will take this opportunity to begin by growing a tail. All those is favour say “aye”.’

‘Aye!’ we both called out eagerly.

‘Motion carried,’ intoned Annie, solemnly. ‘Here we go…’

She began wiggling her hips. At first it seemed as if she was dancing to an unheard tune, but then it became apparent she was reacting to something that was emerging from under the back of her t-shirt.

A long tail, covered in white fur, snaked its way out and began to wag.

‘Actually, that’s relaxing enough for me,’ said Annie, rocking her head from side-to-side in time with the swaying of her new tail. ‘You don’t need me to go full cat, do you?’

I knew she was teasing me, but my heart sank at the possibility that she might actually mean it. There were bye-laws within the Friday Cat Club Code that I could cite, but this was all about winding down. I didn’t want to do anything that would add to the week’s stresses. So it was with a sense of relief that I noticed a small pair of pointed ears protrude from Annie’s hair and begin to twitch. She smiled for a second, but that disappeared as her features formed into cat’s mouth complete with whiskers and a button nose. Her eyes shifted, gaining the familiar oval irises, and white fur to match that on her tail started to spread across her cheeks. The same fur ran down each arm, pouring out from her short sleeves. By the time it reached her feet, those had already begun their transformation into human-size paws.

‘I think this can come off now,’ she said in a voice that had started to pitch a little higher. She raised the t-shirt over her head, flinging it onto the sofa, then ran her hands – the fingers not having completely vanished yet – down her body, encouraging the fur there to thicken and cover her modesty. It was still an arousing sight, but also sufficiently odd to distract from any erotic thoughts.

‘Shall I keep the “snowy” look?’ she asked, ‘or would all-black be luckier?’ Annie struck an exaggerated model’s pose, as if being photographed in the latest fashion. As she froze into position, her fur shimmied and shifted, instantaneously becoming a deep, dark black.

‘Or is ginger this season’s colour?’ Another comic pose, another shift in colour, as her fur turned copper red with patches of white here and there, notably over her left eye.

‘I’m fine with whatever you fancy,’ I answered truthfully.

‘I think I’m going to go with tabby,’ announced Annie. Sure enough, her fur took on a series of dark stripes and whorls inhabiting a sea of soft light grey. ‘That was the easy part. Now it’s time to get small.’

It was always an effort for Annie to shrink herself down, so the playful dancing movements she’d employed so far came to a halt. She closed her striking feline eyes and screwed up her pale pink nose causing her whiskers to twitch. A jerk of tension wracked her body, and her hands fully became paws as she bunched them up. There was a sudden drop in height as Annie gave a slight mew of effort in her new voice. Then the decrease slowed down and her reduction continued steadily accompanied with the occasional wail. As her fully-formed front paws hit the ground, her feet completed their transformation and joined them. She was almost cat-size now, but she had retained her human-like proportions. She raised her rear into the air and stuck her tail out straight, stretching out in a posture that looked odd with her remaining humanity, but soon became familiar as gentle mews and wails heralded the last part of her change. When she had shifted completely into cat shape she gave out a contented meow.

‘Ok, let’s get settled in,’ I said. I plonked myself on to the sofa next to Annie’s abandoned t-shirt and picked up the telly remote. Before I could switch it on, Annie jumped up onto my lap. She padded my thighs with her paws before finally settling down. Then she began to purr contentedly, increasing in volume as I stroked and nuzzled her.

Soon, the weeks woes were forgotten. Friday Cat Club had worked its magic once again.