To Run, To Hunt... Ch. 02 (Patreon)

Chapter 2!  I was gonna post tomorrow but, ehh...

Rosa relaxed on her couch while staring down at her stomach.  Her lower belly was covered in thick, curly brown hair that spread up past her belly button, growing thinner and thinner until a line of single hairs touched the ones growing between her breasts.

She loved it, but they scared her a bit.  Her fingers stroked the hairs as she relaxed.  Nude, as she always was when at home now.  Her Internet searches turned up a myriad of causes but they included symptoms for things she didn't have.  PCOS was a weak candidate since her periods were also strangely irregular, coming every two weeks lately with less bleeding.

A spasm seized her back, causing her to hiss in pain.  She grinded back into the couch to find a slightly different position.

The bulge on her back was bigger.  Well.  Longer.  With ridged bumps that moved when she pushed against them.  It was sore, warm to the touch and it made her feel uncomfortable when she dug her fingers into it.

And now, two weeks after she'd filed them down, her nails were worse than before.  Rosa moaned as the tips scratched the skin beneath the thick hairs.

When the nails had regrown, they'd started out wide around the tips of her fingers but became narrower until the ends were sharp little points.  And now they were completely gray with no translucent patches showing the pink flesh beneath.

Her ears twitched as her neighbors began to argue.  As they seemed to do lately.  Or, perhaps they always fought, but she'd never been able to hear them before.

"Too loud," she groaned while leaning her head back into the couch.

Rosa lifted her feet to place them against her second hand coffee table.  Her legs were swathed in soft hairs - to a shocking degree.  She slid a hand down to the inside of her thigh and moaned at how sensitive she felt, fingers rubbing against hairs and skin while her engorged clit throbbed.

The heat - as she liked to call it - was back.  The second time today when it normally only happened once a day.  She turned to stare at her open window, just to the side where it showed the field beyond.  Two couples were out on a doggy play date, throwing balls and frisbees.  Any of them could see her if they looked and focused hard enough.

It wasn't enough.  Her eyes, a burnished brown so close to bronze with golden streaks and thick black limbal rings, swept to the trees beyond.  Her closest hiking path.

She slipped into loose clothing.  Only when she was walking along the sidewalk outside of her apartment did she realize she'd forgotten her shoes.  It was a passing thought as she raised up to her forefeet with her knees slightly bent.

A thin callus flattened over the swath of skin surrounding the balls of her feet with tiny layers of skin covering the tips of her toes.  When she stepped onto the loose dirt at the edge of the field, she left the vague shape of a paw print behind as she made her way towards the woods.

The urge to masturbate in the wild was overpowering.  As she reached the forest, she raised a hand to a tree and turned, staring at the cars and the apartment building.  And the couples playing with their dogs.  Her nails tore through the bark and the trunk beneath as she growled with a feral expression rippling through her features.

She pounded her fingers deep into her pussy, slapping her hairy crotch without caring who would see her.  Without caring who would hear her as she snarled and moaned and growled with her palm splattering against her wet skin.  She rutted like a wild animal with only the need to soothe the heat and she lost herself to the beast as the orgasms rocked her body, one after another.

Rosa groaned as she woke with early morning light filtering through the trees.

Trees.

She gasped and sat up.  Her breasts pulled at her back and she looked down to see her body - and hair - covered in detritus.  The hairs covering her crotch and inner thighs were crusted with hardened dirt.  Mud, really, where her cum was mixed into it.

Debris and pieces of stucks clung to a feathery soft spray of hairs lining the middle of her back.

"What the hell?" she asked herself as she looked around.

It was the forest near her house.  She remembered thinking about strolling through the forest to ease the-

"Oh."

The heat.  She'd been riled up and she could vaguely remember the temptation of masturbating in the woods.  But, nothing more than that.

And she was naked.

"Fuck fuck fuck," she growled, turning to her hands and knees while closing her eyes and sniffing.  She tracked her cum-covered shorts a hundred feet away and then her sweat-soaked t-shirt, oversized from an old boyfriend, a short distance from those.

Her panties were closer to the edge of the forest and she growled at the powerful scent radiating from them.  Huffing, she bent and took them in her teeth for a moment before grabbing them to add to the rest of her clothes.

And then she slunk from the forest to the apartment building, staying out of sight as she made her way upstairs to her unlocked apartment.

A shower followed, as did a quick breakfast as she rushed to get ready for work.  All while trying to remember her night in the forest.

"I've gone mental," she declared as she stepped back outside.

---

Rosa paced behind her desk. Ever since waking in the woods a little over a week ago, she'd found herself experiencing random flashes of excitable energy.  If she were at work, it was impossible to stay still.  Her skin would crawl and her clothes would scratch against her body while her feet bounced and her teeth grinded together.  She felt uncomfortable in her own skin.  If she was out, she would go for a walk.

Or a run.

She'd never been a runner before but now she loved it, panting while her sports bra barely kept everything in place.  The wind coursing over her body - over the hair covering her.  Cooling her while her legs pumped.  Sometimes rising up to her forefeet while the tip of her tail moved weakly within her back.  Huffing and inhaling, passing everyone else with her tongue occasionally bouncing against her cheek.

Being stuck inside when it happened was the worst.

And so, she paced.

With a muted growl, she walked away from her desk, passing cubicles as she made a circuit of their building.  Mr. Steadler hated it when she did it but she could hear him talking on his phone from the front desk so she took the chance, knowing he was distracted.

Whispers followed her.

"She should wear more," an old woman said to an even older woman standing next to her.  Their accounting department was ancient. All but two of them, anyway.  "Showing all that skin."

"Skin?  Are you sure?  It's more hair than skin, I think," the other said in disgust.

And more comments - on her clothes, her excessive energy, the wild look in her eyes.  She'd already been "randomly" selected for a drug test and that only caused more comments when she'd passed.

She felt herself calming and she made her way towards her desk with a glance towards the supply closet along the way.

Four days later, she slouched behind the front desk, staring at her computer screen.  As if she could see past it.

Her hand was beneath her blouse, stroking the hair on her stomach while bumping over hardened abdominal muscles.  She'd never been to the gym.  Never seen the point.

It has to be all the running I'm doing lately, she thought idly.  And the protein.

She finally caved and bought a card to a membership warehouse.  Just to buy steaks for cheap.  Well.  Cheaper than the grocery store.  A lot of steak.  She cooked them simply, without salt, every other night.  Rare.  Rare enough that they were still red and squishy.  Drool filled her mouth at the thought of it.

At the memory of it.

Sitting in her car at lunch so nobody would take her kill.  Her food.  Growling as she stuffed cubes of cut steak into her mouth.  Licking her fingers and hands clean, tongue running over the discolored skin along the top of her palm and bottom of her fingers.  Over the few hairs growing from the web of skin between the fingers themselves.  And the three hairs on her palm.

Huffing as she shoved her face into the container she stored the mean in, licking the plastic with a broad tongue that flattened to get every shred of meat and drop of juice.

And then sitting back in a drowsy stupor until she had to return to work.

Well defined muscles shifted over her forearm as she caressed her belly.  She moaned and jolted in her chair and closed her eyes.

Pressing her finger in.

Something moved just beneath the surface.  Something ... nice.  It echoed throughout her body, up to her nipples and the sensation grew stronger as she dug into it.  The skin was softer against her finger when compared to the rest of her stomach.  Rosa rubbed her thighs together with a needy growl.

She sniffed.  Her brow wrinkled.  Taking her hand away, she stared at her finger.  At the translucent droplet on the tip of her finger.  She growled in confusion.  It smelled... creamy?  It fell, suddenly, soaking into her skirt.

Rosa glanced around but her ears twitched, knowing there was nobody nearby.  She raised her blouse to see the hairs spread over her stomach.  Unable to remember where she'd just touched, she explored, pressing against her skin until-

It was there.  But, even though she couldn't remember where the initial spot was, she knew this spot was higher.  And yet, it gave the same pleasurable response.  She swallowed and moved her hand down, finding a similar soft patch of skin.  Further, just beneath the band of skirt.  A third one.

Red touched her cheeks and her head pounded while her ears buzzed.  She raised her hand to the place she'd found just a moment ago, beneath her breast.  Her fingers moved, sliding over thick, curly hairs above her belly button.  Over, opposite to the highest spot.

There was another one on the right side of her body, at the exact height, just beneath her breast.  As if mirrored.  Scared of what she would find but knowing she had to check, her hand moved once more.  Finding a fifth little hidden bump.  A sixth - just beneath the band of her skirt on the right side of her body.  The faint scent of creamy liquid, almost unnoticeable even with her enhanced sense of smell, wafted to her nose.

Rosa bolted, shoving her chair back as she ran to the bathroom.

It was so fucking obvious that she growled at herself in frustration.  And then stared in shock at her own reflection when she heard the noise she'd just made.

Such a natural reflex that produced such an bestial sound.

She leaned in and her sharp nails screeched over the porcelain.  They were anchored deep, unlike proper fingernails.

"Stupid fucking..." her eyes weren't golden until the light hit just right and they shined.  When she tilted back, they were two shades darker but nowhere near the dark brown eyes she'd had since birth.  Even more obvious was the thick ring around them and how little white remained.

Rosa swallowed and let her tongue out.  It slid outward and down, curving slightly.  Wide and long enough that it almost touched her chin.

She stared at it with her heart racing.  And then down to the necklace nestled just between her breasts.

"Oh."  she said.

The necklace.  The strange black claw that she'd kept close to her skin since the day she bought it seven weeks ago.

She touched it, pulling it away from her chest.  And then she slipped it over her head while clenching it in her fist before bringing it down to the sink where she stared at it with her chest heaving.  Recoiling from it as if it were a snake.

All of the hair.  The bump-

"The bump," she whispered.

Turning, she saw it in the mirror.  Exposed for everyone to see.  In the gap between her skirt and top, the bulge of her tail's base pressed against her bare skin.  She ran her fingers over it, feeling the segments of the vertebrae growing within.  And the silky hairs covering it.  Hairs that vanished beneath her cropped tank top, only to reappear on the back of her neck.  Thicker.

It's the necklace's fault, she told herself as she looked back down at it.  Twisting my thoughts.  Making me miss it.  Shit.

"Shit!" she said loudly.

She smelled her co-worker Wendy before she knocked.  She'd walked past the woman enough times to mark her scent along with the strange medicinal smelling perfume she wore all the time lately.  Her smell wasn't the only thing.  She shuffled her feet - such an annoyance, shuffling fucking everywhere instead of walking - as she approached.

"Um.  Will- Will you be done soon?" Wendy asked.

"In a minute!" Rosa answered with a rough, growly voice.

"Okay, because I-"  Wendy started to say.

"Use the other goddamned bathroom, Wendy!" Rosa snarled.  And then she exhaled as her ears picked up the startled gasp on the other side of the door.  Followed by shuffling feet.

That wouldn't get her fired, but she still sighed and groaned and lowered herself to her knees while chastising herself for yelling at the woman.

"What the fuck am I gonna do?" she whispered.

Concealing clothes, she told herself while reaching up to run her fingers over her ears.  There was a faint tip to them, as if the flattened edges were gathering and pushing out to points.  It was the hairs that were more noticeable, even to her dull fingertips.

Rosa inhaled while closing her eyes and then she exhaled.  She brought her hand down to stare at it.

A vague triangular patch of skin was raised along the top of her palm.  The dull sensation she'd just recognized was due to excess skin covering the very tips of her fingers.

Padding.  Paw padding.  Thin but obvious now that she was looking at it.  Her thick nail-

Claw, dammit, she growled at herself, feeling even more stupid for having missed that for so long.

Her thick nail traced around the edge of the padding.  There were hairs there and she laughed bitterly when the old fable echoed through her mind:  if you masturbated too much, you'd grow hair on your palm.

"Well.  Maybe that part is true," she whispered.  "That damn heat made sure of that."

The enormity of what might have happened if she hadn't caught the changes made her stomach clench painfully.  The whispered comments floated in her mind and she felt a flush of anger with them - at herself, at the shop keeper, at the ones sneering at her with their catty talk.

And then a smaller, more quiet part tugged at her.

It was magic.  Real magic.

An innocent, child-like voice repressed over the years.  Real, true magic.

"This is my life," she growled in response before groaning and bending forward.  Even her behaviors  were altered.  The way she reacted.

With a deep, inhaled breath - ignoring the stream of powerful scents that were interesting to the wolfish side of her and disgusting to the human part - she forced herself to relax.  And then exhale.

And stand.  After grabbing the necklace, Rosa went to the door to listen, tracking her co-workers with her ears flexing and twitching gently against the side of her head.  She could visualize where they were, especially when mixed with the strength of their scent to add an extra dimension to the flow of information.

One last deep breath before she slipped out of the bathroom.  She raced to her desk, hunching over as she typed out a quick message stating that she was sick and needed to go home.  After  a moment of hesitation, she wrote another one apologizing to Wendy.  The other woman was a decent person and had not yet, so far at least, commented on her appearance where she could hear her.

As the doors closed behind her and the warm sun greeted her, she could hear Mr. Steadler calling after her, huffing as he stormed through the office, demanding she return in order to tell him directly that she was ill.  Rosa kept walking as if she couldn't hear him - as if she couldn't hear the crack of his shoes on the floor and the rustling of his ill fitting suit far behind her.

The drive home was made in silence with Rosa clearing her mind.  She thought of nothing.  Worried about nothing.  Her only focus was on the road and making it back to her apartment.

Once there, she ran upstairs and inside.

The urge to strip naked was nearly overwhelming.  She growled and twitched but forced herself to stay calm.  To stay dressed.

"Tools, tools, tools," she muttered while walking towards her small utility room.

Her stacked washer and dryer dominated the tiny space but the surrounding shelves held random tools she'd purchased over the years.  She grabbed a hammer and walked into the kitchen.  Once there, she took the necklace and laid it on a paper towel.

It seemed so innocuous on the towel with the strap carelessly stretched out around it.  A simple piece of jewelry.  Something you would find in any cheap store.  Colored glass, perhaps.

Another thought struck her, causing her to wake her old phone and set it on the counter next to the necklace.  Her sharp nails cracked against the glass until she tilted her finger to type out a search.

"Oh no," she groaned while biting into the back of her lip.  And growling at the sharpness of her teeth.

It was a full moon that night.

That's not possible, right? she asked herself as she stared at the necklace.  I've had it for...

Her eyes became unfocused as she counted backwards.

Seven weeks, she thought.  There would've been a full moon in there.  Maybe two.  Unless.. Unless it has to reach a critical point?

She licked her lips and the tip of her tongue brushed against her nostrils.  Wetting her nose.

"There's no way," she whispered while glancing back at the moon phase calendar she'd found on her phone.  "Right?"

Her left hand tightened on the hammer she held.  Her head pounded while her teeth grinded together.

"This is my life," she said, repeating the words she'd spoken at work.  More quietly this time.

Rosa wrapped the claw in the paper towel until it was well covered.  She switched the hammer to her right hand and raised it.

She couldn't take a chance that she would transform.  Couldn't take a chance at becoming a murderous beast in the middle of an apartment complex.  Even if she drove to the closest national park, the idea of waking up lost in the middle of nowhere was terrifying.  Lost and naked.  And then trying to plan her life around the full moon.  And that was assuming it only happened one night a month.  And that her changes magically reverted afterwards, leaving her human once more.

And still, she hesitated.

Now that she was aware of the changes, they expressed themselves in various interesting ways.  Soft, short scattered fur brushed against the inside of her clothes.  Her ears twitched in annoyance when they touched her hair.  Her tail...

It moved as if sensing her thought and she felt the muscle tugging against her back.  The hint of a sensation as nerves developed.

She inhaled.  And exhaled.  Inhaled again.  Intricate smells surrounded her while sounds flowed, rich and full.  The world in high definition.

Nikita's howl filled her thoughts and the image of her followed, muzzle raised.

Rosa's chest rose and fell.  Her hand faltered.

And then Nikita was gone and all she could see was herself as a half-feral, muddy, starving young woman slinking through the woods.  Cold and alone.

The hammer fell and the necklace shattered, exploding within the confines of the paper towel.

Rosa swooned.  She braced herself on the counter as she stared at the mess she'd made.  Shards glinted where they'd escaped the cheap towels.

A sense of loss filled her.  Of what could have been.  A path where her life could have diverged away from the monotonous existence she lived now, under the thumb of Mr. Steadler.

"Oh!" Rosa gasped when a clattering sound startled her.  Only then did she realize the hammer had slipped from her fingers.  "I-"

She blinked.  A tear fell, but she reached for it.  Touching it with the tip of her finger to pull it away from her face. To stare at it as more tears formed.

"I-" she repeated.

Rosa crumpled to the floor.  She growled as she clenched her jaw shut while her throat ached.  The girl was desperate to hold herself back.  To stop herself from sobbing.  From howling in pain.  She bent forward, face between her knees, a small young woman in a tiny apartment, sobbing as regret filled her.

---

The pieces of the necklace were carefully gathered on Rosa's small dining room table.  She stared at them and then out towards the field past her windows.

Dusk settled over the city slowly like a fluffed blanket lifted high and allowed to float on its own.  The young woman stood from the table and paced while scratching hairs on her arm.  One arm and then the other.

She could feel it happening.  Like ants crawling beneath her skin.  Preparing her for the change.  Goosebumps dimpled her skin.  She growled and rolled her shoulders.

Inside or outside?

Vicious beast or confused human in a thick fur coat with the urge to pee on things?

Rosa tugged at her t-shirt to try to cover the hair on her belly as she made her way to the front door and out.  Barefoot.  Turning left to head down the stairs and out into the field, walking on her forefeet until she forced herself down to her heels.  The warm summer evening caressed her fur-kissed body and it took every ounce of willpower she had not to strip down and roll around in the field.

The forest closed around her like a verdant hug, allowing her to vanish inside.  She followed her usual trail, praying the beast wouldn't let her get lost.  Or send her back into the city to get shot.

She realized, suddenly, that a part of her was excited.  This was something different - something close to wolves and nature itself.  And, perhaps she would retain her humanity.  She hyped herself up while trying to ignore the very real possibility of immense pain following the transformation.  Bone crushing pain, potentially.

"I should've grabbed some aspirin," she told herself as she stepped over a log.  "Shit.  Maybe a backpack?  I could've stowed my clothes when it started."

Werewolves were not wolves and they weren't something she knew much about beyond the few movies she'd seen in passing.  Even then, there was conflicting information, least of all whether she'd be the giant wolf type or the two-legged type.  Wolfman or -

"No, probably not a Wolfman type," she said while reaching back to touch the bump of her tail.  They didn't have those.  Not that she could remember.

She could smell the trails of small animals.  Faint.  Confusing.  Not quite strong enough for her to know more than the difference between vegetation and furry critter.

"Dammit!" she cursed while reaching back to scratch her nape and then around, both hands clawing at her back.

The moon shone through the trees.  She stared up at it and the silver reflected from her eyes, giving them a bright golden shine.  The young woman snarled and then leaned against a tree while panting.

"I'm ready," she told it.  Bold and challenging.

---

Several hours later, Rosa sat on a log covered in moss, staring at her hands.

"This is fucking stupid," she sighed.

It had worked, after all.  Smashing the claw had prevented the change.  It halted her changes, leaving her temporarily stuck in a strange furry middle ground.  Her ass was numb from sitting, exacerbated by the dull ache of her tail. As she had many times since entering the forest, she paced while grumbling.

And then she sighed again, oriented herself and went home.

---

A week later, Rosa sat at her desk, picking at her pants to ensure they completely covered her legs.  Hairs tickled her back where they were trapped beneath her high neck, long sleeve blouse.  She had the shirt tucked into her pants so there would be no gaps showing her hirsute body.  Despite the mediocre air conditioning circulating through the building, she found herself sweating.  She desperately wanted to tear her clothes apart.  The idea of sitting naked at her desk, panting through the uncomfortable summer temperatures was incredibly enticing.

And slightly arousing.

Rosa groaned while leaning forward until her breasts touched her thighs.  She rubbed her feet while trying to spread her toes.  They ached within the cramped confines of her shoes.  While also sweating.

The brief thrill and pang of regret she'd felt that night of the full moon had worn off.  Now, with the changes stopped, she couldn't wait for them to revert.  Especially as she ran her fingers through her hair to ensure her ears weren't visible.

She glanced down at the small mirror she'd purchased for her desk.  A little something she could use to double-check herself.

"Welcome to my resting bitch face," she told herself.  Since her revelation and long, useless night in the woods, she practiced hiding her teeth and it gave her a solemn, faintly angry expression.  Gone were the toothy smiles - and most smiles in general as she twitched within the confines of her scratchy clothes.

With a growl, followed immediately by clamping her mouth shut in an attempt to train herself out of the habit, she adjusted her posture.  Her tail throbbed and she could just picture the bones painfully melting away beneath the skin.

It wasn't just the tail, though.  The damned remnants of her heat left her feeling swollen.  Down there.  Between her thighs.

Her pussy.

Her pussy was swollen and hot and needy.

Even when she wasn't turned on, it felt ... fuller.  In an almost unquantifiable way.

If nothing else, the partial transformation introduced her to the wonders of meat.  Red, juicy steaks that she'd throw on the stove for a few minutes, just to lightly brown them.  To warm them up.  Just a little.  They weren't raw, not really, and, anyway, cooking them too much killed a lot of the flavor.  30 seconds on medium heat on both sides was enough.  Sometimes 15 seconds if she was hungry enough.  Which, okay, was most days lately.

Rosa's ear twitched as it caught a high pitched whining buzz.  She reached out for her desk phone a half second before it rang.  The receiver groaned when she clenched it and white stress lines appeared in the smooth, gray plastic until she relaxed her grip.

"Thank you for calling.  How many I direct your call?" she growled.

---

She could hear them.  All of them.  Rosa whined as she stared through the gap in the open door.  Her tongue slipped up to her nose, wetting it.  Hair-thin black lines covered her nostrils and the very tip of her nose.

The changes hadn't stopped.  She wasn't even sure if they had paused after breaking the claw.

Rosa had stood before her bathroom mirror earlier that morning for her "creature features check", as she called it, and she had stared at the obvious pointed tips of her ears.  There was no longer the hint of wolf-like ears.  Nobody would glance at them without pausing now.  There would be double-takes.  Triple-takes.  And narrowed, curious eyes.  She'd leaned in and watched as a tiny hole had opened.  A slender brown hair had wiggled its way out.

Honestly, it was gross to see.  Like a worm or parasite.  Until it had dried off.  When she'd checked herself in the mirror at work later, she'd sworn there were more of them.  She had a beanie on order to be delivered that night.

Now she panted, drool collecting on the tip of her wide tongue with her pants around her hairy thighs.

Touching herself in the supply closet.  While watching everyone walking around their cubicles.  If anyone looked at just the right angle, they'd see her.  Just a sliver of her body.  Her hairy, exposed belly and her furry crotch.

She smelled the droplet of milk as it gathered on her hardened, flat stomach.  Those six spots on her belly were discolored - slightly darker than the surrounding skin.

A single drop formed.  It traced a slow path against her body before growing too thin.

Rosa snarled at the thought of it and her hand jerked while her breath hitched. She was rubbing her entire palm against her pussy and clit in an attempt to collect the cum.

To-

So-

So it wouldn't get all over the floor.  Not.  Not so that she could lick it from her hand. It-  She-

Rosa growled and lapped at her cheek and tongue, swallowing drool as she pictured it.  Cleaning the thin padding and hairs and her fingers.  Sucking and licking.

She wanted them to see.

The voice was ghostly and small as it spoke her truth.

She wanted them to watch her.  To notice her.  To see the desperation in her face.  The snarling, lustful look painted on her features.

To see the beast she'd become.

Chunks of plaster rained to the ground when her clenching nails tore into the wall.  She tried to gasp.  Tried to moan but the orgasm took her breath away.  Instead, she lowered herself.  Down. Raising her hand to fold her tongue over the fingers and around the palm.  Cleaning quickly so she could place her hands to the floor.

On all fours.  Panting as she stared out at them with a bar of light highlighting her face and golden eyes.

Sliding her feet back with her heavy tits hanging beneath her.  Powerful back muscles bulged, countering their weight with ease.

Letting herself feel like the animal she was.

---

The parts of the computer were scattered before her as she sat crossed legged on her bed.  She clawed at her belly - her hidden teats, really - and the surrounding hairs made scratching sounds in return.

She'd started browsing the night after her time in the supply closet.  Her first time in the supply closet over a week and a half ago.  Checking the local groups for used computers until she found a streamer selling his old gear in order to upgrade.

The full moon had passed the night before, but she still hadn't changed.  She'd felt nothing.  Although, she had gone back out to the woods.  She'd stripped beneath the light of the moon and masturbated while on all fours.

Her first orgasm had only made her want more and so she'd continued, eventually rolling to her back in the dirt and leaves.  It was powerful.  Freeing.  Erotic.

She'd also begun to research werewolves.  That search had led her to all kinds of interesting art.  And forums.  She learned that it was a fetish for some people and that had led her down a rabbit hole of interesting information.  The most interesting information was learning exactly how much the best artists made on their commissions.

An idea had formed - a way to combine her exhibitionism with her changes.  More research was made into the different streaming platforms.

And now, she had a computer.  Pieces of one.  A basic desktop with a webcam.

"Alright.  Let's do this," she said.

It took no time to connect everything and boot it up.  Even the webcam was recognized properly and the little test app showed good volume from the microphone.  The video quality was average at best but enough for her purposes.  And, anyway, a bit of blurriness was perfect for what she wanted right now.

Rosa stared at herself on the screen.  More specifically, she stared at her changes - at her naked body.  It hadn't taken long before she'd gone back to stripping at home.

Her research had led her to a streaming service with a huge amount of categories and the ability to tag your stream for even finer control over what you were sharing. She created an account, added an artistic wolf's head for her profile picture and then named her channel the most basic thing she could think of:  "The Wolf Girl."

After ensuring her billing information and everything else was properly set, she went around her room, hiding any identifying information she could find.  Anything that might lead Internet detectives to her apartment was put away.  Blackout curtains followed, blocking the sun but also the view outside.

The rest of the night was spent reading about online security, which led her to set up a VPN service on the computer.

When she was done, she collapsed into her bed, mentally exhausted.

---

Rosa sighed and rolled her eyes.  She could hear Wendy shuffling nearby.  And then retreating.  She could smell her scent with it, tinged with an almost sour smell accompanied by the stronger medicinal smell of her perfume or whatever she was wearing.

"Do you need something, Wendy?" Rosa asked without turning her head.  She poked at her keyboard carefully.  Her morning routine involved trimming her nails with a heavy duty clipper and she was close to buying a grinder.  Like they used at dog groomers.  The problem was, they grew back over the course of two days, seemingly sharper and darker every time.

"Oh," Wendy said from twenty feet away.  "S- sorry."

The shuffling continued until Wendy stood nervously beside the front desk.

"It's fine, Wendy, what did you need?" Rosa sighed.

"I- I like your hat," her co-worker said.

Rosa reached up to touch her beanie. Her ears moved too much lately and she'd worried they'd slip out of her hair.  The beanie was a jail for them, pulled down over her ears to keep them contained.

"Thanks?"  Rosa said, turning finally to look at the other woman.

"It's very stylish," Wendy continued while pushing the large, round rims of her glasses over her nose.  Her red hair was wild and curly, as if threatening to consume her head.  "But- but you're usually dressed really stylish. Do you- how do you find your clothes?"

Rosa's eyebrows swept down as she regarded Wendy who, in turn, refused to look at her.  Her co-worker's clothing was... frumpy at best.

"Um.  From everywhere.  Magazines if I'm waiting somewhere. Movies.  The Intern-  How old are you, Wendy?"  Rosa asked with her eyes narrowed.  Her guess was thirty.

"Tw- twenty-six," Wendy answered.  "I never thought about looking for ideas like that.  That's smart, Rosa."

The compliment bothered her.  She poked at it, as well as her own feelings.  Was it patronizing?  No.  Insincere?  No.  She could hear the subtle changes of pitch and inflections when people spoke now and that, combined with recognizing micro expressions better gave her a powerful ability to recognize sarcasm or lies.  This was honest praise.

Twenty-six, Rosa mused.  Just a year older than me.  Oops.

"I'm not actually that good at it, either," Rosa admitted.  "My outfits are pretty basic compared to a lot of the fashion out there.  I just can't really afford to try anything more extravagant."

"I donate a lot," Rosa added in the silence that followed and she immediately wondered why she had said anything at all.  And, still, she continued to talk.  "To an animal sanctuary."

Add to that the cost of meat lately and she was praying her streaming idea would work.

"Oh, that's so sweet!" Wendy exclaimed, finally looking up.  Her voice steadied while a smile broke out on her plain face.  It was transformative.  "Which one?"

"A- wolf sanctuary," Rosa told her without adding more detail.

"Amazing," Wendy said wistfully.  Her finger twirled around the end of her hair.  "I like wolves.  They're so beautiful. I never even thought about donating.  I didn't know you could.  Or that they had sanctuaries, even!  I thought they were only in the wild or the zoo."

Her stutter was gone, as was the acrid aroma in her scent, replaced by something else entirely.  Something ... salty?  Rosa cocked her head while rubbing her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"M- maybe I should donate, too, once I'm finished paying for my s- surgery," Wendy continued.  She frowned and toyed with her draping skirt with her fingers by her waist.  Her curls slid forward to hide her pale face.

"Surgery?" Rosa asked.  Almost immediately, she chastised herself and wondered why she'd bothered to probe.

"Oh.  Um.  My- my hip," Wendy said.  She let her skirt go to press her fingers against her waist.  "I got into a car accident almost a year ago.  It- It was bad."

Rosa's jaw clenched.  A faint growl vibrated in her throat and she clawed at her thigh.  Her ears twitched beneath her beanie and the desk phone rang a second later.

"Oh, I- I'll let you get that," Wendy said while turning.

"Wendy," Rosa called out while ignoring the phone completely.  The trilling sound rattled her nerves.  One of the downsides to what was happening to her.

Wendy turned and fidgeted while staring down at her feet.

"I'm sorry," Rosa said.

"For what?" Wendy asked.  She looked up again and adjusted her glasses. "Oh.  The- the bathroom.  That was my fault.  I'm- I'm sorry."

"No," Rosa sighed.  "But, also, yes.  I mean- You shuffle your feet. It's been bothering me and I didn't know about your injury.  I'm an asshole.  I thought you were just being lazy.  I'm sorry."

"Oh," Wendy said quietly.  She looked down once more and gripped her skirt.  "I'll- I'll try to w- walk more softly.  Sorry."

Now Rosa growled out loud.  Her lips lifted, showing her teeth while her eyes sharpened.  The phone stopped ringing.

"No."

"I- what?" Wendy asked.

"Look at me," Rosa told her roughly.  The strange pre-sound of another phone call made her snarl.  She reached out and grabbed the handset, cracking it in her grip before slamming it down on the hook.

Wendy nibbled at her lip but glanced up, her eyes hidden by her curls.

"I'm.  An.  Asshole," Rosa repeated.  "Not you.  Don't apologize to me.  I just automatically assumed the worst and I'm sorry."

Wendy opened her mouth but Rosa held up her hand.  "If you apologize to me again, we'll get in a loop and I'll be forced to, hell, I don't know, bake you cookies or something.  And I'm not great at baking, Wendy."

"Hah," Wendy laughed.  A guarded little sound.  The edges of her lips lifted into the hint of a smile.  "It's- it's okay.  You didn't know.  Um.  I should get back.  They don't like if I'm gone from my desk too long.  Not enough people in the accounting department."

"Yeah," Rosa told her.  "Go crunch those numbers.  I'm gonna see if we have some spare phones.  Not sure how mine broke.  Must've been... old."

---

Rosa stared at the mouse cursor where it hovered over the "Start Streaming!" button.  She had the details of her first session filled out, with a short introduction and summary of what she planned to do, but she panicked at the thought of clicking the button.  Five minutes passed as she thought of literally everything except clicking the button.

Finally, she stood and made her way to the kitchen.

---

"Oh.  Rosa," Wendy said when she finally turned and noticed the woman standing next to her cubicle.

"I made apology cookies," Rosa told her.  "From scratch.  I even tried one and it wasn't bad."

"Oh, hey, did someone make us... coooookiiiies?" came a man's voice.

Rosa's eyes rolled while her eyelids flickered.  She growled, quietly, with her teeth touching together.   "No, John.  They're for Wendy.  Not the whole damn department."

"I could... share... them.... Never mind,"  Wendy said with her voice growing softer with every word as Rosa focused her sharp attention on her.

"I made them for you," Rosa reiterated.  "They're yours.  Do what you want with them.  But give me my plate back when you're done.  I'm poor.  I've got, like, four plates."

"Nice!" John said, reaching over his cubicle until Rosa's hand shot out with preternatural quickness to intercept him.

"I swear to fucking god, John, don't.  I made them for Wendy.  She gets them first. She gets to take as many as she wants before sharing them. Or not sharing them."

"Rosa, my wrist, ow ow ow ow," John whined until she let him go.

"I really don't-" Wendy swallowed when Rosa's eyes swiveled back to her.  "Mind."

"Eat one," Rosa said.

Wendy took a cookie without another word.  Her hands were delicate with meticulous red nail polish coating her fingernails.

Tiny black paw prints were centered in the middle of her nails.

Wendy followed Rosa's eyes to see her fingernails.  She squeaked and hid her hands beneath her desk with the cookie still clutched in her fingers.

"It- I- After- I just-" Wendy stuttered.  Her pale cheeks were flushed red while her eyes focused on her keyboard.

"It's cute," Rosa said quietly.

"I just- after our conversation yesterday, I thought-" Wendy tried to say but her voice gave out.

Rosa reached out to touch her shoulder.  "It's alright.  And they're really well done, can I see them again?"

With her eyes still focused on her desk, Wendy switched the cookie to her left hand and reached out her right.  Rosa held it carefully, mindful of her claws and padding.  Wendy's hand was cool, as if her blood had been entirely diverted to her face.  Cool, and soft.  Rosa rubbed her thumb over the woman's knuckles before she realized what she was doing.  She let the hand go and stood straight before snapping at John when he tried to reach over to take a cookie.

"So.  Here," Rosa said while laying the plate down on Wendy's desk.  "Share with anyone you want except John."

"Aw, come on, Rosa!" John whined.

---

A month of false starts left Rosa wondering if her idea to stream her changes would never happen.

Rosa groaned and toppled back onto her bed.  Her breasts touched briefly, rasping against her body as they did. The hairs growing between them had begun to creep up from the inside and they nearly reached her areola.

It was a strange look.  Her belly and chest was covered in curly brown hairs that clung to her body but a little more than half of her tits were smooth skin.  The contrast was oddly arousing.

She stroked herself as she lay there, running her claws down her belly and up to her breasts, sighing as she squeezed them with the hairs against the thin padding on her palm.  Over to her nipples and the bare skin on the outside of her breasts.  And then down her side.  The hairs on her back so far centered around her spine only.

Her claws brushed one of her recessed teats on the sides of her stomach.  She arched her back and groaned while turning to bite at her blanket.  The urge to tease milk from the little nipples was difficult to ignore but she sighed and trailed the back of her claws down to her mound in order to clench her fingers in the impossibly thick tangle of her pubic hair.  It was dense enough now to hide her clit.

Her pussy lips were thicker.  Fleshier.  She played with them while licking her blanket.  It was instinctual.  The urge to lick. Especially when aroused.  The bulbous padding on her fingers compressed against her lips before rubbing them and she squirmed in response.  She teased herself before gently pressing the tips of her hardened nails into her pussy.

In a way, their new shape helped. Especially with the padding on her fingers adding thickness and alluring bumps to rub against her pussy.  The claws were taller but also narrow at the tip rather than the wide, flat surface of her old nails.  It was harder to scratch herself.  Plus, the slowness of her careful touch allowed her to build the orgasm.

She pictured them watching her.  Viewers staring through the camera.  Seeing her masturbate. Rosa moaned while stroking her pubic hair until she found her clit.  The hood was thicker, similar to the way her pussy lips were swollen.  She pressed the hood into her clit and growled as she slowly worked herself to an orgasm.

Tomorrow,she told herself.  I'll start it tomorrow.