Clucked! -1 (Patreon)
Content
A forced transformation tale animal tf/tg
“Dude, you are so fucked!” Jeremiah Alton said, as I pulled on the head of the costume.
“What?” I said, my voice sounding loud in my ears. “You don’t think she’ll go out on a date with me now?”
Jeremiah laughed. “Look at you, dude.” He put his hands on my shoulders, turning me so I could see in the mirror.
Big red cartoon bird feet led up to feathered padded bird legs, white breast and the pièce de résistance, a gigantic chicken’s head.
“B’Cawk!” I said, walk-strutting around the room.
“Anytime Felicia looks at you now, all she gonna see is that bird costume, bro.”
I shrugged. “If she’s that shallow, who needs her.”
“You been trying to get with that ass for three years, bro! You gonna throw it all away for a job? At CHICKEN HUT?”
“If they want to pay me 15 bucks an hour to stand in front of their restaurant and twirl a sign, I say ‘Thank you very much and may I have some more!”
Alton shook his head. “You got some stones on you, bro. I ain’t never seen no white boy as willing to throw his sexual future away on a chicken costume.”
I took the head off, putting it under my arm. I was already sweaty. “It’s a cake job, bro. You smell like chicken grease every time you come out of that place. No burns, no “can I take your order?’ No, ‘Do you want fries with that?’”
He nodded. “That part does suck, I give you that. But Felicia gonna be in there watchin’ every minute of your chicken dance bro. And I know my sister, she ain’t gonna think that as husband material, you know what I mean?”
I shrugged, grinning. “Never know. Maybe she got a thing for chickens!”
He shook his head, pulling on his own uniform.
Alton was fit, with muscles standing out on his arms and legs, the result of hours training in the weight room and out on the football field at NiMarcos High School where we both had attended High School.
We’d been best friends growing up, attending the same elementary school, junior high and then high school. When my dad left, Alton had been there to listen to all my frustrations. His parents owned a restaurant in Chandler and were rarely home, so we always had plenty of time together.
Alton and Felicia lived three doors down from me, and I’d had a crush on Felicia for the longest time but never had the courage to actually ask her out. She was two years older than me and considered me her little brother’s friend.
Felicia got the job at Chicken Hut first, and when she heard they needed more employees, she hooked us both up with jobs. I hated it from the moment I started, the vats of hot oil, prepping the chicken, taking them in and out of the fryers. The oil always splattered and I came home with tiny burns all over my arms and hands almost every night.
When the position as the sidewalk chicken opened up, I jumped at it. It paid the same amount as a fry cook, minus the grease burns. Plus, all the dancing and spinning out there on the sidewalk would be good for my physique. Alton looked like a sculpted African-American SuperHero, and I was his pasty white sidekick.
We jumped into Alton’s green apple Camero, one of the perks of signing with Arizona State State University. He did a smoky burnout and I whooped as we tore down our quiet residential street.
Felicia had already opened the restaurant as we pulled into the employee parking space behind the restaurant.
“You sure you want to do this man? I got a spare uniform in the back.”
“Your uniform wouldn’t fit me anyway, bro.” I said. “And yeah, this is like a dream come true. Chicken Hut is paying me to get in shape. By the end of the summer I’ll be as ripped as you!”
“Dude, it is going to be hot as fuck out there. It’s already a hundred and four.”
I shrugged. “I’ll get used to it.”
He laughed. “Famous last words.”
“Hey, you guys practice in this heat.”
“And we hate every minute of it, dude.” He said, as we entered the restaurant.
Felicia sat in the managers office, smoking a cigarette and typing on a computer. She was a shift manager now, and had the responsibilities to match. She wasn’t supposed to be smoking, but I thought it made her look sexy as hell. She wore her springy hair full and long, with dark red lipstick and blue eyeshadow. Anytime I saw her, I got goosebumps.
“Hey chicken boy!” She said, and I jumped.
“Hey Felicia,” I said in return.
“Hey Felicia,” Alton mocked.
I shot him a death glare and he grinned as he opened a cash register and started filling it with the days bills.
“You ready to do this?” Felicia said.
“Ready, willing and able!” I said in return, lifting the Chicken Hut Chicken Head under my arm.
“Good. Phillip hated being out there. It’s good to see you have some enthusiasm.”
Alton laughed at that.
“Don’t listen to my brother. It’s really cool you doin’ this for us.”
“Thanks.”
“Now go out there and I want to see that chicken booty shake it up!” she yelled, turning up the music.
‘Shake Your Groove Thing’ started playing over the loudspeaker.
I put on the chicken head, and started jigging and jagging, popping and locking as I snatched up the sign and went out the front door.
***
It was hot as fuck.
After eight hours of wearing the chicken suit, I’d been cat-called, had french fries, chicken bones, and some dipshit even threw a full gravy container at me. Needless to say, my pop-and-lock and dwindled down to a shuffle-and-ruffle as the heat and exhaustion bore me down.
It was endless. Every time I’d glance up at the clock inside the air-conditioned restaurant, only a few minutes had passed since the last time I’d looked. It was the most miserable, hot, exhausting eight hours of my entire, short, life.
At lunch, Alton had brought me out a double dark special basket someone hadn’t picked up and I ate in the break room, happy for the few moments of air-conditioning.
Around four o-clock I actually started to get chills from the heat, and my eyesight was starting to spin. I stopped doing the chicken dance, and just twirled the sign for the last hour.
At five, I opened the door, took off the head of the costume, and plopped down on the tiny table in the break room. I thought I was going to pass out.
“Here,” Felicia said, handing me a large cup of ice water.
“You are an angel,” I said in a rough voice.
“You’re the angel, Jimmy.” She said, patting my gloved hand. “That’s not easy work bein’ out there.”
I drank the water in one gulp, and almost threw it right back up. Luckily, I was able to keep it down and not embarrass myself any further.
Alton had gone to practice an hour earlier. The store was empty, and the night shift had taken their positions and was serving.
“You need a ride home, baby?” Felicia said. “I can run you home if you want.”
I looked up at her. “Really? I mean, I don’t mind walking, but…”
“No baby.” She took up her cigarettes and her purse, and made her way to the back door. “Let’s go.”
She drove a black Caprice that gleamed in the fading light of evening. I got in the passenger seat as she lit a cigarette and rolled down the window.
She sighed, exhaling smoke into the wind. She turned on the music, her long nailed fingers twiddling with the dials until ‘I’ve Had the Time of my Life’ started playing, the music from Dirty Dancing.
“God, I loved this movie, din’t you?”
“Um…” I said. “I haven’t had a chance to see it yet.”
“Oh, My GOD. You are kidding me!”
I shook my head. “Just haven’t had the time yet.”
“Oh baby, you have to go! I seen it like, I dunno, 3 times!”
We pulled out onto the avenue and Felicia pressed her foot down on the gas.
I laughed, tiredly. “It’s a date, then.”
“Awwww,” she said. “You tryin’ to ask me out!”
“Yeah, kinda lame, I know.”
“No it ain’t baby. I seen you lookin’ at me.”
I looked at her then. Her dark hair, big sunglasses, ruby lips, and nails. She always wore the latest fashions too, with white hip-hugger pants, and a blue Chicken Hut manager’s blouse over it.
“So what do you say to Friday night?” I said. I was so exhausted, I wasn’t really even thinking about what I was saying and it just came out.
She grinned. “I tell you what, chicken boy. You dance your little chicken booty out there all week, no quitten’ and I’ll go with you to the movie on Friday night. Is that a deal?”
“Yes!” I said.
She smiled, exhaling smoke out of the window. “You is cute, I give you that.”
I felt myself blushing as we pulled up to my house. She unlocked my door.
“Now go shower! You smell like Alton's sweat socks!”
I laughed. “I will, and thank you.”
“Thank you baby!” she said and blew me a kiss.
I caught it on the sidewalk in front of my house and watched her pull away.