Unearthly Delights: Cat's Bell (Patreon)

This here is the first Unearthly Delights story. For those of you who are new, this will be a collection of short stories about some of the magical objects that were misplaced by the storage company in HFHM, so each story expands the Monster-verse just a little bit! Each of these tales is stand alone, and I will write a couple more of them and then do a reader poll to see if people want to keep seeing them. 

Cat’s Bell

"C'mon, hurry up!" Heather pulled on Catherine's arm, yanking her friend into the tiny second hand shop. Unearthly Delights had been around for almost a decade, and it was known as the go-to store for college students who needed to walk off drinks after dinner. Nestled in the heart of Old Town Fort Collins, it had a great view of the fountains outside, and the traveling pianos that all the music majors would play Chopin on.

Catherine was not one for Old Town, parties, or strange little shops like Unearthly Delights, but she had promised Heather that she would be her plus one at a party this weekend, and the costume shop had closed almost an hour ago. There was no guarantee that Unearthly Delights had costumes, but with Halloween just around the corner, it wouldn’t be entirely unexpected to find something.

It took Heather approximately a minute to find the rack of Sexy Maids, Cops, and Princesses. Heather was built like a Swedish goddess, tall, leggy, and blonde. She immediately held Sexy Pocahontas in front of her body, admiring herself in a mirror.

"What do you think?" She asked, lifting another costume off the rack.

"It's slutty," Catherine informed her, pulling a Sexy Ghostbuster off the rack. The jumpsuit had been truncated about an inch below the crotch line, the whole outfit looking more like a pair of booty shorts with gray suspenders. "Ugh, these are all terrible."

"This one isn't." Heather held up Slutty Alice in Wonderland. "Oh my god, I would look so good in this!"

Catherine nodded in agreement. Slutty Alice wasn't as bad as the others, and even she had to admit that it would look good on Heather. Frowning, she dug through the rest of the rack. Other than some plus-size witch costumes, she didn't find anything else.

"I don't see anything here," Catherine said. At least nothing she felt like wearing. Heather had the kind of curves on her body that meant she could look good in sweatpants. Catherine, however, struggled to look sexy in just a bra and panties. Her  size and shape were such that she couldn't cross her arms without simply looking cold.

"Maybe you should lower your standards," Heather suggested. Catherine threw her a dirty look. 

"I shouldn't have to lower my standards just to attend a party where everybody will be so drunk they don't care."

"Maybe if you did, you would get laid." Heather winked. "Have someone get that stick out of your ass."

Catherine frowned, but stayed quiet. She didn't have a good comeback, and the last thing she needed was for Heather to get nasty with her. The two of them had met as freshmen at CSU, sharing a dorm room. Now, three years later, they shared a studio apartment on the north side of town with a fantastic view of the mountains. Heather was generally easy to get along with, but would sulk for hours when pushed. She was already getting weird around Catherine, and Catherine knew it was because they were graduating soon. Catherine was already planning to pursue a Doctorate in Psychology. She loved the field, the exploration of the human psyche and how it ticked, and poring over research texts in the library's basement, the smell of old paper permeating her nostrils.

Heather, on the other hand, would get her degree in English and probably move home to live in her parents’ basement until she could either secure a full time job in the retail industry, or write her 'novel' which, as far as Catherine knew, was the story about how Heather lost her virginity at prom to a guy who dumped her a week later, except they were both vampires being hunted by the CIA.

Catherine rolled her eyes just thinking about the manuscript.

"Oh, hey, this could work!" Heather held up something that Catherine didn't immediately hate, which was a good start. It was a black bodysuit with a tail, a fairly simple Cat costume. Catherine frowned, looking at the package. It was in her size, and she couldn't think of a good reason not to try it on, not one that Heather would accept.

"Yeah. It could work." Heather was already pushing Catherine toward the changing rooms, which were just curtains draped across a pair of rooms in the back of the store. Any hopes of privacy were dashed when Catherine was shoved into the same room with Heather. They had lived together for so long that they had both seen each other naked, but Catherine didn't like the idea of trying to squeeze herself into a bodysuit in front of her friend.

"Help me with this," Heather said, holding up the Sexy Alice outfit. They spent several minutes digging through the package, which had been clearly worn before. The multiple layers of the dress were all balled up, and it looked like one of the zippers would need to be fixed before it could be properly worn. As soon as the dress was laid out properly, Heather stripped down in front of Catherine, standing there in just her underwear. It was imposing seeing her friend's body, and Catherine suddenly felt self- conscious about her own.

The Sexy Alice dress was tight, but not because Heather was too big for it. The fabric around her waist was a white and blue mesh that hugged her skin, and the bustier pushed her breasts upward. Heather was already admiring herself in the mirror, turning to one side and smoothing out the front of the dress.

"What about the leggings?" Catherine asked, holding up the white stockings that were included.

"I'm not going to bother. I have something much sexier at home." The instant the words left Heather's mouth, Catherine knew exactly to what she was referring . Last Valentine's Day, Heather had purchased a very sexy piece of lingerie for a boy she had been dating for a few months. Dressed in the stockings, a garter belt, and little else, Heather had snuck into her boyfriend's apartment to surprise him when he returned from class. He had surprised her by bringing back a grad student he had been dating for nearly a year. Heather now referred to them as her lucky stockings, and would sometimes wear them under her outfit on test days.

"You look hot." Catherine hid the jealousy in her voice, thinking about how she would give up some of her intellect for a body that was even halfway as hot as Heather's. She hated even thinking something like that, but refused to suppress her feelings. Being open and honest with herself was the one thing that kept her sane most days.

"Yeah, I really do." Heather turned around quickly, her skirt flaring up to reveal her upper thighs. That sparked a different emotion in Catherine, one that she still struggled to quantify. She wasn't sexually attracted to women, at least not noticeably so. She had been around several women who were somehow more attractive than her friend.

Yet, on occasions like these, the sight of Heather's body generated that heat she couldn't deny, that unquenchable flame that hadn't been touched by a man in at least two years, not since Hollis Rogers had dropped out of college and moved home, breaking up with Catherine via sticky note on the door of her apartment. She thought that maybe it had to do with their friendship, factoring in their natural closeness. They were opposites, yet largely inseparable, a relationship that contributed to the physical attraction in an unforeseen manner.

"Let's do you now." The choice of words was not lost on Catherine, and she popped the plastic snap on the bag holding the body stocking. The black fabric slid free, still wrapped around the cardboard square that helped the package retain its shape. Turning her back to her friend, Catherine took off her shirt and jeans, pulling the garment over her legs first, then her upper body. She was already checking to see if the fabric was pulled thin enough to reveal the skin underneath, but no such luck. Unless it had a big hole in it, this was going to be her costume for the party.

"Shit." Heather could be heard shaking the bag.

"What's wrong?" Catherine asked, pulling the stocking over her shoulders before turning around.

"It's missing the ears." Heather was checking the bag now. "Wait, never mind. It's just the stocking."

"How will people know I'm supposed to be a cat?"

"I can draw some whiskers on you. We can also buy some cat ears, everyone has those. I wouldn't worry about it." Heather was already stripping Sexy Alice off, folding it carefully to put it back in the bag.

"Hmm." Catherine was appraising herself in the mirror. She was afraid that the stocking wouldn't fit her right, or would make her look fat. Somehow, the dark material actually looked good on her. Turning around, she looked over her shoulder to see how it made her butt look. The tight material definitely highlighted the globes of her ass.

"You look great!" Heather said, playfully swatting Catherine on the butt. This sent an immediate pulse of heat straight through Catherine's hips where it nestled itself deep throughout her inner thighs.

"Yeah." Catherine ran her hands along the fabric, then checked the price on the package. It was much cheaper than it should have been, but that was part of the joy of shopping at Unearthly Delights. For the first time, she felt a little excited about attending the party.

"I'm going to look around some more." Heather was back in her clothes, and she slid through the curtain, disappearing into the store. Catherine gave a little tug on the fabric by her stomach, pulling the material in her crotch temporarily tight. That pulse was there again, a steady beat that demanded attention. Getting caught masturbating in the dressing room of a second hand shop wasn't something she wanted to become a campus legend for.

Changing back into her clothes, she hugged the costume tightly against her body, pushing through the curtains back into the store. A few frat boys were drunkenly perusing a box full of remote control fart machines, and a couple holding hands were eying the crystalline unicorns in a display case in the corner. Scanning the aisles, she saw Heather holding up a plastic tiara wired with LEDs. 

"Find anything?" Catherine asked.

"Here." Heather handed over a headband with black, fuzzy ears attached. Catherine tried them on. They felt comfortable, which was a good sign. The two of them spent another fifteen minutes digging through the treasures that were currently for sale. Half of the fun of coming to Unearthly Delights was seeing the weird stuff they got their hands on. 

Satisfied that they weren’t going to find anything else interesting, they walked up to the register. A disinterested Asian fellow (who Catherine was ninety percent certain was a music major) made them wait several seconds before taking his eyes off of his phone.

“Will that be it?” He asked, ringing them up on an iPad that had been bolted to the table.

“Wait!” Heather tapped the glass. “Can I see that?” She was pointing to a soft, black collar with a silver bell attached. He retrieved it from the case, laying it on the glass. The collar itself was made of thick silk, and Heather picked it up for a better look.The case was filled with some truly strange things. Catherine’s eye was caught by a puzzle cube, a mirror made of silver, and a pair of rings that looked like they were conjoined.

“Why are these things in the display case?” She asked. She didn’t see any reason why these things would be under lock and key.

“Owner got them at an auction while he was on vacation,” the clerk told her. “Came in a big box full of weird.”

A big box full of weird. Catherine liked how the phrase sounded. Heather was running the silk of the bell through her fingers, inspecting the cord for any defects.

“What are you thinking?” Catherine asked her.

“Something awesome.” She slipped behind Catherine, pulling the collar tight against Catherine’s neck. Picking up the ears on the counter, she set them on top of Catherine’s head. Stepping back, she nodded enthusiastically.

“There’s my little kitty cat!” She patted Catherine on the head affectionately. That familiar tingle traversed Catherine’s entire body, and she heard the bell jingle in response. It was the clear ring of silver, a tone so pure it reminded her of the bell from Santa’s sleigh in the Polar Express.

Only those who believe can hear it. An old memory from her childhood, but a fond one.

“I don’t need a bell,” she protested, but Heather was already handing her father’s credit card to the cashier. Her dad made great money as an engineer, and Catherine could only assume that he accepted the disappointment of supporting his daughter for what would probably be the next ten years of her life.

Catherine undid the collar around her neck, stuffing the bell in the bag with her body stocking and the cat ears. The cashier went back to his phone, and the women left Unearthly Delights. Upon returning to their studio, the bag was tossed into the back of the closet where it would remain until the night of the party.

-

“Fuck.” Catherine stared at the razor in her hand. It was clogged with hair. It was Saturday morning, and Heather was out buying some new boots to go with Sexy Alice, and Catherine had decided that shaving her legs would be a great idea. The thought of stray hairs poking out of the body stocking and potentially stabbing an interested party in the hand freaked her out.

Getting in the bath, she had soaked in the hot water for a nice, long period of time prior to lathering her legs. What she hadn’t expected was the amount of hair. She was ninety percent certain she had shaved them no more than a couple of weeks ago. Now, however, she was getting ready to toss a brand new razor and she wasn’t even halfway up her shins yet.

The hair on her skin wasn’t long. In fact, it was fine and soft, very much unlike the typical throw rugs that grew from her shins. The sheer quantity of it, however, is what was throwing her off. Rubbing at the smooth skin of her ankles, she moved her fingers further up into the fine down that had formed on her knees.

“What the fuck?” She wondered aloud, letting her fingers trail even higher. The hair got thinner, but was still noticeable above her knees and along her outer thighs. Naturally, she should have some body hair, but she could never remember being able to even see the hair on her legs. Inspecting the finely trimmed hair of her crotch, she noticed that the fine, feathery growth was there as well, and even a small patch on her lower stomach.

In the back of her mind, she remembered the picture of her mom’s grandmother, a woman who immigrated from Italy with a full mustache just beneath her nose. As a child, Catherine had always been thrilled and terrified by the idea of being a woman with a mustache. Was this a weird adulthood thing for the women in her family? Was she going to sprout chest hair next?

Catherine ran her hands along her breasts, giving them a playful squeeze. That pulse traveled the length of her body again – her breasts were very sensitive, her erogenous zone of choice. When she was younger, she used to be able to squeeze them until she came, soaking her bed sheets. However, Heather had bought her a vibrator for her 20th birthday, and playing with her boobs for orgasms became much less fun than the knock-off magic wand that could shake the plaster off the wall.

Catherine wondered if Heather had a similar vibrator, then immediately squished the thought. The last couple of days, she had begun having even stranger thoughts about her friend, thoughts about what her breasts would feel like beneath her hands, squeezing the soft curve of her ass maybe, or even how soft her lips would feel. They had drunkenly made out at parties in the past for giggles, but now Catherine’s thoughts had moved far beyond just earning free drinks from horny guys.

Her fingers tugged gently on her labia, giving them just a tiny stretch. The sensation of skin sliding across her clitoris served to send a thrilling shock through her pelvis, and to wake her up to the idea that she was touching herself while thinking about her friend. Splashing water on her face, she slid out of the tub long enough to get a new razor and spent the rest of her time in the bath removing the excess hair, even trimming the edges off her pubes. Shaking her head, she removed the strange patch of light colored hair below her belly button, making a mental reminder to ask her mother about the ‘family curse.’

-

“Do we actually know anybody here?” Catherine appraised the crowd of drunk revelers. There were dozens of costumed men and women packed into the front of the house, their hands clutching bright orange cups of the cheapest alcohol available to man. Immediately, Catherine felt slightly embarrassed about her costume. Heather had painted some whiskers on Catherine’s face, blackening her nose with the cheap black makeup she had left over from last year’s Sexy Zombie. The ears had been secured to her head by a bobby pin, and a cheap tail had been purchased from the King Soopers near their home. It had gotten pinched in the door of their Uber, putting a permanent kink in the tail. Around her neck, she wore the silk collar, the silver bell ringing softly when she walked.

“We know tons of people,” Heather informed her, taking her hand. Already, eyes were turning toward her friend, eyes appraising the long, stocking clad legs that vanished beneath the powder blue mini-skirt of Sexy Alice. Catherine knew that Heather’s panties matched – she was ashamed to admit that she had taken a peek when Heather had crawled back into the Uber to retrieve her cellphone.

“Can you name a single person in this room?” Catherine asked her.

“Nope!” Heather accepted a cup of cheap beer from someone dressed as a cowboy. “That’s part of the plan!” Holding her drink up. To avoid getting jostled, Heather forced her way through the throng of people, wiggling her ass from side to side. Catherine couldn’t help but watch it move, joined by pretty much everyone else in the room. 

“Wait!” She shoved her way through the crowd, fighting to keep up. Nobody offered her a beer – she had to wait until she was in the kitchen where the keg was. One taste and she knew her worst fears had been confirmed. It was a shitty IPA. Catherine was super picky about her beers, but this one was the worst.

“Hey.” He was dressed as Slenderman, a massive erection visible through his full body suit. “My name is Derek. What’s yours?”

“Ick.” Catherine pushed her way past him, but Heather had already disappeared. Rolling her eyes, she found a room where a game of beer pong had been initiated. Figuring it would at least be fun to watch, she was immediately caught up in the way the ball bounced back and forth across the table. The sound of plastic hitting the table caught her attention, the bright white ball vanishing into another cup of beer. She watched with anticipation, waiting for one of the players to pull it out and throw it again.

She was standing close to the table, close enough that on one of the throws, she reached out and swatted the ball out of the air. The crowd around the table stared at her in awe, her outstretched hand still hovering over the table.

“Bad kitty,” someone said, and the whole room erupted in laughter. Smiling weakly, Catherine realized that her whole body was suddenly hot, and she was dizzy. Walking through the crowd, she found the stairs, hoping to find somewhere she could get away.

The bell on her neck rang again, and her senses were suddenly hypersensitive. What was wrong with her? Her stomach cramped, and she counted the days from her last period. Too soon, she figured, wondering if dinner was disagreeing with her. Stumbling down the long hall, she tested the doors to see if any of the rooms were empty. Several of the doors had been locked, and Catherine felt the hall start to spin around her.

The party was loud, simply too loud for Catherine to withstand any longer. Stumbling through a group of frat boys who had all dressed as Justice League characters, she slipped through an open door, grateful to find a bedroom with nobody else in it. Throwing herself butt first onto the bed, she ripped off her tail and tossed it onto the floor.

What was wrong with her? She had never had a panic attack before, but she was experiencing all of the symptoms. Her mouth was inexplicably dry, and her lower back was on fire, her muscles tensing up for no reason. Holding her hands in front of her, she saw that they trembled uncontrollably, three of her black press-on nails already missing.

God, she was thirsty. She saw that this bedroom had a bathroom attached. She pushed open the door, grateful that the bathroom itself wasn't as filthy as some of the other rooms in the house.Turning on the faucet, she leaned over to lick at the flowing stream of water. Her thirst temporarily sated, she stood, gazing at herself in the mirror.

Her ears were crooked. She pushed them back to their proper location, then used some toilet paper to rub the black polish off of her nose. The water of the sink had caused it to run, leaving long, black streaks down her lips. She wiped away the whiskers too. She gave the neckline of her body suit a tug, pulling her cell phone free of its hiding place in her bra. She sent Heather a text to come find her - she wanted to go home, to sit somewhere familiar. She had no desire to remain here, but couldn't leave without her friend.

Waiting in the bathroom for a small eternity, she was relieved when she heard the bedroom door open.

"Hey, I'm sorry but - " Catherine's words faded when she realized that the new arrival wasn't Heather. Instead, it was a pair of lip locked party goers, their costumes already in a state of disarray as they undressed each other. Frustrated at the intrusion, Catherine slipped quietly through the door and back into the party, determined to find her friend. Dodging between the party goers, she felt her anxiety increasing, the little bell on her collar ringing when a particularly large man in a toga bumped into her.

“Sorry brah.” Toga man gave her finger guns before disappearing back into the crowd. Rolling her eyes, she shoved her way between a group of freshmen huddled around a cellphone, eagerly watching a viral video that elicited laughter from them after she passed.

It was almost instinctual, but she found herself wandering toward the garage. Pushing the door open, she was greeted by a large freezer full of beer, and a cowboy pushing Sexy Alice against the wall, one of her long, stockinged legs wrapped around his waist. He was dry humping her through the fabric of his pants, and Alice was red in the face.

Catherine opened her mouth to interrupt, but was mesmerized by the sight before her. She could clearly see the lips of Heather’s pussy through the thin fabric of her panties, a small wet spot blossoming in the middle. Mesmerized, she felt a familiar throbbing of her own, a squeezing sensation in her lower gut.

“Heather?” She said, her voice weak. The two of them kept going at it, Heather clutching the cowboy against her body. “Heather.”

Heather’s eyes opened. “Catherine?”

“I don’t feel so good.” Catherine placed her hand across her stomach for emphasis. “It feels like my stomach is on fire.”

“Oh.” A strange look crossed her face, and Heather pushed the cowboy away. “Sorry Woody, but you’ve no longer got a friend in me. I need to go.”

“But what do I do about this?” Cowboy asked, pointing at the hard-on in his pants.

“Find some other toy to play with.” Heather grabbed Catherine by the hand and pulled her through the party. Catherine expected Heather to be mad about the party, but her friend was strangely cool about the whole affair, arranging a ride home for the two of them and even helping Catherine out of her costume once they got back to their apartment.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Heather told her, tucking her into bed.

“Thanks, Heather.” Pulling the sheet up over her shoulders, Catherine realized she was still wearing the bell around her neck. She fell asleep, forgetting to take it off, the bell tinkling softly against the fabric of her pillow.

-

Going out with friends after a Tuesday counseling session, Catherine found herself ordering the fish special instead of her usual salad. Nobody else questioned it, but as she greedily sucked down her meal, she vaguely remembered that she used to hate even the smell of fish. They commented on the cute little bell she wore around her neck, and it took her quite some time to realize that she had taken it off Monday night, slipping it into her jewelry drawer. She pulled it off after lunch was over, sticking it in her pocket where she would forget about it.

Tuesday night came and went. Catherine spent all night shaving her legs again, grumbling at how much hair had grown back since last weekend. She went through three disposables before giving up. The base of her spine itched, and she fell asleep that night after a frustrating phone call with her mother who had acted weird when Catherine had asked about body hair. Apparently menopause had just started for her mother, and she didn’t want to talk about hair in strange places. The tinkling of the bell found her in her dreams, guiding her from a car buried in the snow to a room covered in white linens, then to Heather’s bedroom. She watched her friend sleep for several minutes before realizing that not only was Catherine awake, but even with the lights off she could see Heather as if she was bathed in light.

According to WebMD, she probably had a stroke and should seek medical attention immediately. Frustrated, she crawled back into bed ripping the collar off her neck and throwing it into her nightstand.

Waking up Thursday morning, she discovered that her hair was somehow longer, and the bell was again around her neck. Sticking the bell in the back of her closet, she went in for a haircut, only to have the stylist comment on the cute bell she was wearing around her neck.

Pulling the bell off her neck, Catherine stared at herself in the mirror, wondering what was real and what wasn’t.

“Cut it super short,” she requested. The stylist took it down to a few inches, and by the time Catherine walked out of the stylist, she discovered that the collar was once again on her neck.

-

Catherine stared out the window of her room. Snow was falling softly across the neighborhood, fat flakes that glazed the cars in the parking lot. Heather had gone to class, but Catherine was ditching hers. Pulling off her winter cap, her hair tumbled around her shoulders. She had always had thin hair growing up, but now it had the body of a greek goddess, the expansive curls reaching the edges of her shoulder. She had measured it a few days ago and then again this morning. Nearly two inches had grown during the week.

The hair, however, bothered her far less than her other issue. Out of habit, she allowed her fingers to tuck some strands behind her ear. The familiar smoothness of her upper lobes was gone, replaced with a soft, furry tip. The hair itself was dark like her own, and there was no mistaking the signs that her body was, indeed, changing.

“Fuck.” Catherine had thought about going to her advisor, or one of her teachers. Men and women who all held doctorates in the field of psychology, they would help her with her hallucinations. She thought that perhaps one of them could help her break the cycle, to undo the damage her mind had done to her self-image. But when the greasy haired teenager working behind the counter of Burger King had complimented her on her elf ears, she knew that it wasn’t simply a hallucination anymore.

Option A was that she had suffered a complete psychotic break. She might not even be in her apartment anymore. She could potentially be in a mental health facility, dying in a ditch, or pissing on the floor of the supermarket. None of these ideas appealed to her, but she really hoped that it wasn’t the pissing one.

Option B was that she was, somehow, turning into a cat.

How far would the transformation go? Would she begin to shrink, doomed to live out the rest of her days shitting in a box and chasing mice? She had never been much of a cat person, and the last one she had spotted was two days ago, in the hall. It had hissed at her, and she had hissed back, causing the cat to take off.

For now, the incoming cold had prolonged the discovery of her subtle transformation. She was able to attend classes all bundled up, and perhaps she could be the first cat to get their doctorate in psychology. She could easily amass clients who are more comfortable talking to a pet than a person, and charge a phenomenal rate of three cans of tuna per session.

“Fuck,” she said again, wiping a tear from her cheek. Was this what having cancer felt like? A death sentence that couldn’t be dodged, no cure in sight?

She had gone back to Unearthly Delights, but the guy behind the counter had been of no use. Apparently the owner had taken off again shortly after returning from his last trip, and she was unable to find out where the bell had come from.

Speaking of the bell, she touched the side of her neck, the same familiar silkiness on her skin. The bell had become a curse, breaking the laws of nature as she knew it. Last night, she had thrown the bell out her bedroom window, hoping to at least stall the process. Instead, she had woken this morning with it fastened securely around her neck.

The bell rang softly, and another tingle went through her body. She had ignored the signs before, but now she knew what it really meant. The bell was going to start changing something else.

Wondering what fresh hell awaited her didn’t take long. The back of her pants, which usually had a small gap due to her slender hips, was now being tugged. Reaching along her lower back, her fingers encountered an obstruction right above the curves of her ass. The hair of her new tail felt like velvet, and it was strange having a new limb. She could feel it, but not actually move it. She undid her jeans, letting them slide just enough that her tail was allowed to pop free. The new muscles along her back were able to swing it minimally, but she couldn’t quite make it go where she wanted it to.

She looked in her mirror, trying to inspect the damage. It was the same color as her hair, and hung nearly to her knees. Lowering her pants, she saw that the base had sprouted just above her butt. Her panties were riding low now, and she wondered how she was going to hide this.

Stripping down to her underwear, she went through her closet, pulling out any of her pants that were loose in the leg. She experimented with tucking it down a pant leg, only to discover that the process seemed to, somehow, make her tail mad. After the third pair of sweatpants, the offending appendage twitched away from her grasp, and she fell on the bed, spinning in circles in an attempt to grab it. The few times she got a good hold on it, it would yank itself away, slipping free of her grasp.

“Hold still!” She yelled, rolling on her back, her knees bent above her. Her body folded itself, her arms swatting at the tail above her as it twitched from side to side. She managed to grab it about a third of the way down, and she stupidly gave it a yank.

“OW!” Catherine’s legs snapped straight out, causing her to roll backward off of the bed, tumbling into a pile of clothes. She was a tangle of limbs and fabric, a low growl rising from her chest as she breathed heavily, her vision obscured by a black pair of sweatpants.

Breathing through her nose, she caught a whiff of something, an odor she had never noticed before. It held her attention, the very idea of that smell pushing all thought of her predicament away. What was that scent?

Removing the sweatpants proved to be trickier than she thought, because the had become folded up between her face and her legs. In collapsing onto the floor, she had inadvertently folded herself in half. The source of the odor was immediately apparent when she realized she had pretty much buried her face into the crotch of her own panties.

Her tail twitched above her, taunting her with its movements. From this vantage point, she could see that the hair from her tail had sprouted along her hips and down to her inner thighs. But none of that mattered, because she was enamored with the sweet, enticing smell of her own pussy.

With trembling fingers, she slid her panties up her legs. As a teen, she had attempted this very feat only once, because a friend had dared her to. She had been unable to come remotely close to such a feat, yet today was a different story. With bit of experimentation, she realized that she could easily touch her nose to the back of her thighs, even pull her head past her vagina to look upon the base of her tail, see the way her ass looked when she was bent over. Not even using a mirror to explore this part of her body had given her the intimate knowledge of what there was to explore.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, her breath hot on her cunt. She opened her mouth, suddenly afraid that the entire world would burst through her door, fingers pointing and cellphones raised.

No, she needed to start small. It amazed her how comfortable she was, her body folded in half. She gently rubbed her legs, moving her mouth away from her pussy, but staying close enough that the strands of her hair tickled it. She allowed her hands to causally move up her thighs, gently massaging the tight muscles there.

She tilted her head, listening, eyes on the clock. Heather would be in school for at least another three hours. Unless something weird happened, she should have plenty of time. Even so, what if a fire broke out next door, and someone broke in to warn her? Gas leak? Alien invasion?

Her fingers were already circling her labia. If anyone came in now, they would find a woman touching herself. Embarrassing, yes, but no big deal, everybody did it.

Not everyone, however, was getting the view she was. Relaxing, she let her eyes stare directly into her opening, contemplating the folds as she stretched them. Her fingers danced across the sensitive skin, deliberately avoiding her clitoris. Once the bean was flicked, she would be committed, as Heather used to tell her.

Heather. Catherine pictured the cascade of blonde hair down her friends back, the image directly from the time she had accidentally walked in on her friend after a shower. The perfect spheres of her ass, the way her full breasts had turned toward her, Heather’s large, pink nipples pointing toward the sky.

Thinking of Heather’s breasts, Catherine pushed two fingers into herself. 

“Nngh!” How long had it been since she had anything in there? Catherine wasn’t a dildo girl. She was all business with a vibrator the size of her thumb. The sudden invasion of her two fingers had felt like molten gold being poured inside, the sudden heat of it causing her thighs to vibrate above her. She pushed her fingers in as far as they could go, spreading them out and feeling her insides expand.

Oh god. She needed more. She moved her fingers in and out, marveling at how nice it was to finally see what she was doing, soaking in the sight of her fingers burying themselves ever deeper, her labia opening like a flower, ready to accept her ministrations. Her other hand circled the base of her labia, pushing in on the delicate skin between her vagina and her ass, teasing the base. She wondered how many fingers she could ft if she tried, wondered if an entire fist could fit in there, wondered what would happen if she stroked her tail.

Wondered what Heather’s face would look like if this was her pussy and not Catherine’s.

Catherine’s hand teased at the top of her labia, her swollen clitoris appearing like a fleshy groundhog, wondering if there would be six more weeks of winter. Once her clitoris came into view, Catherine committed, rubbing at it frantically.

Images of her roommate filled her mind, strange thoughts she had never allowed herself to have before. Kissing Heather, tasting her breasts, feeling the warmth between her thighs. The fantasy built in her mind, images of the two of them falling onto Heather’s bed, exploring each other’s bodies first with their hands, then their mouths. Suddenly, the pussy in front of her was no longer her own, her mind still struggling to comprehend her newfound flexibility. 

Catherine moved toward it with ease, gently sucking her own clit into her mouth.

She had never had anyone go down on her before, at least nobody motivated. One time, a drunken boyfriend had attempted such a feat. Catherine marveled at the intense sensation, the sudden control over something so pleasurable, her tongue gently rolling her clitoris back and forth, her own moans becoming Heather’s inside her fantasy. She was able to use her teeth, tongue, and lips in just the way her pussy wanted it. She was gentle first, then rough, her sexual drive on autopilot, her mind spiraling out of control.

She heard the bell around her neck ring, but no longer cared. She clutched her own ass, pulling her cunt down even harder onto her face, her legs and tail twitching above her, the orgasm building. When she came the first time, she screamed into her own pussy, coating her face in cream. The second time she came, she cried, unable to tear her lips away, not wanting the moment to end. The fine line between sex and madness had been crossed, and nothing short of exhaustion would end it. She sucked herself in, moisture running freely down her face in rivers of sexual fluids.

Or so she thought. She heard the key turning in the lock of the front door, her whole body uncoiling so that she was on all fours. Who could it be?

Looking at the clock confirmed that Catherine had been munching her own pussy for almost two hours. Shame would have to wait, though, because she ran across the room, grabbing anything she could possibly wear and taking it into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, she saw that she was covered in her own fluids, so turned on the shower and jumped in. Even from within the confines of her tile palace, she could hear Heather walking across the apartment, her footfalls like loud thuds in her ears.

Her ears. Sticking her head out of the shower, she was horrified to see that they were no longer human at all. Sticking out to the side were two furry triangles, white on the inside. Her fur vanished beneath her hairline, but also ran down the back of her neck.

Yanking at the collar around her neck, Catherine was terrified to discover it wouldn’t come off.

-

The weekend came and went. Catherine managed to dodge her classes, claiming the flu had taken hold. Luckily, she was able to submit her work online, a perk of being in a program where the professors actually trusted you. Exams would be a different story, but that was a problem for a different day.

Her face still looked normal, and her hands still looked human, but everything else had changed. Her thick, luscious mane just barely covered her furry ears, ears that could hear a conversation through the walls. She had modified a few pairs of yoga pants for her tail, and would spend her days quietly at home enjoying a little peace and quiet. Her entire body was covered in a furry down the color of her hair, but her breasts and pubic region had only a light coat of fur, as if the artist painting her had run out of furry paint. The dark, auburn hair covered every other inch of her body, which meant she needed a hat and coat if she wanted to go out unnoticed.

The bell had been silent for the last couple of days, which gave Catherine hope that the end was in sight. However, the bell still couldn’t be removed.

“Hey Catherine?” Heather spoke to her through the door of her room. “Can I come in? I want to talk.”

Catherine opened one eye. She had been curled up in the middle of her bed, clad in only a bra and panties. When possible, she avoided wearing clothes, but still couldn’t shake the habit of wearing undergarments. Staring at the door, she wondered if remaining silent would make her roommate go away.

It didn’t. The knob on the door shifted, Heather slowly pushing her way in. Catherine let out a small huff of disgust. She really had been enjoying her nap, and now Heather had come along and ruined it.

“Hello? Catherine?” With the blinds closed, Heather couldn’t see her. Catherine, however, saw Heather as if they stood outside in the sun’s light itself. Her night vision was sharp enough that she had briefly considered a life of fighting crime. Those thoughts had come to a halt when she realized that she just didn’t care about the rest of the world in general.

Somewhere deep inside, the old Catherine screamed. The new Catherine just wanted to lounge all day, have no responsibilities, fully embrace becoming a cat. 

Cat’s really didn’t have it that bad, to be honest.

“Catherine?” Heather was watching the solid lump in the middle of the bed, and Catherine knew it was time to face the music. She sat up, revealing herself, and waited for the screams to begin.

When nothing happened, Catherine realized that Heather still couldn’t properly see her. She reached over to the nightstand, flipping the switch on the light, and reminding herself to push it off the table later.

“Why are you wearing your cat costume?” Heather asked.

“I’m not.” Catherine’s voice had a slight growl to it, a new huskiness she rather enjoyed. Her canines were sharper than they used to be, which meant she spoke with a slight lilt to her voice. She had bitten the shit out of her tongue two days ago, but it had healed pretty quickly.

“You’re freaking me out. What’s going on?” Heather, concerned, sat down next to Catherine, lifting up her tail to set it aside, clearly not noticing that it was attached. Heather nearly fell off the bed when Catherine’s tail whipped back at her, curling itself against the soft white fabric of her sweater.

“What is this?” Heather stood up, grabbing the tail in her hand. She yanked on it, not realizing it was attached to her friend. Catherine yowled, her whole body rolling over to reveal that the tail was indeed hers.

“Ow, Jesus, let go!” Catherine grabbed the base of her tail, yanking the rest of it out of Heather’s hands. Heather stood, slack jawed, realization dawning on her face.

“The tail… it’s attached. Not pinned on, but actually attached.” Appraising Catherine’s body, she moved closer, sitting next to her on the bed. Reaching out trembling hands, she stroked Catherine’s fur.

Catherine’s skin rippled, the sensation of Heather’s hands on her body perhaps the best feeling in the world. She leaned into it, allowing Heather’s hands to move across her ears.

“It worked,” Heather muttered. “It actually worked.’

Through the fog of pleasure, Catherine processed what her friend had said.

“Excuse me?” She asked, pulling away. “What do you mean ‘it worked’?”

“The bell. It actually worked.” Heather leaned toward her, giving the bell a little flick. “When I first saw it in the shop three weeks ago, I thought it was too good to be true. A silver bell attached to black silk, with the mark of the Senri on it.”

“What do you mean, Senri?”

“Chinese folklore. A type of cat spirit that can turn into a human. At least, that’s what the legends say.” Heather leaned toward her again, her scent filling Catherine’s nostrils. “But sometimes things get lost in translation. I spent so much time in the basement of the library, digging through old texts, I’m surprised you didn’t see me there.”

“You knew this would happen?” Catherine asked. The old part of her wanted to get angry, to scream. That part of her was fading. She was still Catherine, but a new personality had emerged, one that dreamt of sunbeams and fancy fish dinners.

“Hoped. Come with me, I have something I want to show you.” When Heather stood, Catherine could smell the change in her body chemistry, see the extra swing in her hips. Curiosity, however, was a powerful force, compelling Catherine to stand and follow.

She followed Heather into her bedroom. Heather opened her laptop, clicking through a few folders on it. Catherine realized that Heather had pulled up a hidden folder, one that was password protected.

“My novel,” Heather began. “There’s a reason I never finished it.”

“Because it’s awful?” Catherine asked. The new Catherine wasn’t afraid to say these things out loud.

“It’s not what I want to write.” Heather’s eyes glinted in the light of her computer screen. “I’ve spent all my time writing the stories I truly enjoy.” With the click of her mouse, a folder opened revealing dozens of documents.

“Still not following,” Catherine told her, leaning in for a closer look. She felt Heather’s hand on the base of her tail, lightly stroking the fur of her lower back.

“Maybe this will help.” Heather opened up another folder. Instead of stories, it was hundreds of images of animal people in various sexual positions. Catherine, intrigued, opened one up and began clicking through the gallery. A dog man fucking a cat girl. A werewolf fucking Little Red Riding Hood. An entire section devoted to the movie Zootopia.

“Wait, does this mean -?”

“Yes.” Heather’s hand stroked downward, bypassing Catherine’s tail and rubbing her ass through her panties. “I’ve been a closet furry since I was thirteen.”

“But you seem so normal.” Catherine regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Of course Heather seemed normal. Getting turned on by animal characters didn’t magically make her a weirdo or a freak. In fact, actually having a kink was what made Heather a normal, healthy human being, even if Catherine didn’t fully get it.

However, the hand on her ass was quickly persuading her that she no longer gave a shit. In fact, thinking on the matter, Catherine’s kink had somehow become Heather herself, the very idea of being touched by her sending thrills throughout her entire body.

“Normal is boring,” Heather told her. “I can’t tell you how many nights I spent with a dildo crammed up my snatch looking at furry porn, fantasizing about finding an anthropomorph of my own to fuck. I’m not interested in being an animal, but in being had by an animal.

“But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to just fuck someone in a fursuit. I wanted to actually fuck someone who had become an animal. I did my research, I found holes in the internet to crawl down. I found rumors online that there’s an entire world hidden from us, a world we only get to spot through the cracks of reality. During this search, I read tales of magical artifacts that could accomplish such a thing, and I began writing stories online about them, fantasies of finding such an object that would accomplish such a thing. The Bell of the Senri.” Heather flicked the bell again, sending a pulse of sexual pleasure through Catherine’s body. “It disappeared in the 1700’s after the death of its previous owner. Maybe it was a myth, maybe it was real, but I learned everything I could about it. Imagine how excited I was to see such a thing in a second hand store in the middle of Old Town. Rumored to carry the spirit of a Senri concubine, it will turn its wearer into a Senri, bound to obey the whims of its master.”

“Who is my master?” Catherine asked, shuddering in anticipation of the answer.

“Whoever puts the collar on you.” Heather’s fingers slid beneath Catherine’s panties. “My father was so pissed when he found out I blew nearly seven hundred dollars at Unearthly Delights. I told him we were drunk and there were no refunds. It was a risk I had to take.” Heather’s fingers stroked the light, furry down of Catherine’s ass. “I had to sell off several plushies I had in my personal collection to pay him back. All month I’ve been watching, nervous that I didn’t see you changing.”

“I was hiding it from everyone.” Catherine wanted to be mad, but all she could think about was Heather’s fingers making circles that just barely teased her inner thighs.

“You did a great job,” Heather said, standing up from her computer. She faced Catherine, pushing a tangle of wild hair away from Catherine’s eyes. They had turned a greenish-yellow. “From now on, neither of us have to hide anything.”

Heather’s mouth found Catherine’s, her lips soft at first, then insistent. Catherine’s lower body melted, her crotch suddenly hot with moisture. She ran her hands up Heather’s back, suddenly aware that with this kiss, the gates had been opened. She had been handed a passport to Heather’s body, permission to explore it to her delight.

And they had all the time in the world.

Heather’s hands stroked Catherine’s body, her fingers gently teasing soft fur. Catherine slid her hands up beneath Heather’s sweater, pulling it up over her head. She wore a white tank top beneath, her breasts pushed up by a fancy black bra. Catherine kissed her way down Heather’s neck, playfully biting at her flesh and eliciting gasps from her roommate.

“Oh yes,” Heather hissed. In her excitement, there was nothing sensual about the way she kicked off her Uggs, or how she pulled down her leggings, stomping her way free and kicking them across the floor. This was lust, and it had no patience for looking pretty . Heather wore lacy black panties that highlighted the curves of her hips. Catherine placed her hands on those hips, pushing into Heather so that the two of them fell onto Heather’s bed.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Catherine told her, sliding her hands beneath Heather’s tank top. Heather lifted her back, pulling the shirt over her head, revealing a bra that matched the panties. Catherine let out a growl, kissing her way down Heather’s neck, her lips sucking gently on the full flesh of Heather’s D-cup breasts. Heather’s fingers were playing with Catherine’s ears, her thumbs rubbing the soft fur of the edges.

“Mmm,” Catherine moaned. Having her ears stroked was akin to having her nipples played with, the sensation taking the shortcut to her crotch. Suddenly, the feel of fabric against her body was overwhelming. Grabbing her panties, she slid them down her legs, the feeling of cool air against her moist labia providing some relief.

Heather’s hands now moved down Catherine’s back, stroking the fur there with reverence. She could see the hope in Heather’s eyes, the strong desire to not awaken from the fantasy. Kissing her way down Heather’s stomach, she found herself just above the waist of Heather’s black panties, the smell of her sex like catnip.

“Please,” Heather asked. “I want to feel your lips on me.”

Heather lifted her hips, and Catherine pulled her panties off. Heather had trimmed her blonde pubes into a narrow strip. Running her hands along Heather’s inner thighs, Heather let out a soft moan.

“Wait!” Heather called out to Catherine, who looked into her eyes. “You can stay where you are, but I want the rest of you here with me.”

“Are you sure?” Catherine asked, reversing her body so that her own pussy was above Heather’s face. She was almost afraid to hear the answer.

“I’ve never been more sure.” Already, Heather’s hands were stroking the soft fur on Catherine’s legs, touching her tail, teasing her ankles. Looking down, Catherine saw the orifice she had been dreaming of, Heather’s soft folds beneath her face. Her labia were long, overlapping each other. The scent was overwhelming, putting Catherine in a trance. With trembling hands, she traced circles around Heather’s wet mound, watching in wonderment as her lips began to unfold.

Catherine became dimly aware that Heather was playing with her pussy while stroking her tail. The woman beneath her couldn’t decide what she wanted, to please herself or her friend.

No, they weren’t friends anymore. By putting the bell around Catherine’s neck, Heather had created something far greater between them.

Her nose flooded with Heather’s heavenly scent, Catherine gently squeezed Heather’s inner thighs then buried her face in her hot cunt. Her tongue was longer than it used to be, and she could feel how it roughly dragged across the soft skin of her roommate, making a sound akin to sandpaper. She ran her mouth all along the long folds, teasing out the hidden treasure within, deliberately avoiding it.

“Holy shit!” Heather yelled from behind her, her hands clutching Catherines skin tightly. “Your tongue feels amazing!”

Catherine sucked Heather’s labia into her mouth. Heather’s hips rose, attempting to bring her clit into Catherine’s chin, but Catherine wasn’t having it. Letting Heather’s labia slip free of her mouth, she looked over her shoulder.

“Give a little, get a little,” she growled. Heather’s eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

“But… I don’t know what I’m doing,” Heather admitted, her hands clutching Catherine’s legs.

“That’s okay,” Catherine told her. “We’ll learn together.” She leaned forward, gently sucking on Heather’s thigh. Heather responded by sliding a finger into Catherine’s pussy.

“Yes,” Catherine hissed, responding in kind. Heather’s pussy was hungry for more than just a finger, and Catherine was able to easily work her three middle fingers into her friend, curling them back so that she could stroke the crinkly folds of the inner wall.

“Oh Cat.” Heather shifted beneath Catherine, and Catherine heard the drawer of the nightstand open. Knowing what was about to come, Catherine arched her back.

The dildo was thick and long, and in her aroused state, Catherine cried out in pleasure as Heather slid it into her body. Her cries were punctuated by growls of sexual satisfaction, her tail twitching in the air. Heather put one hand on Catherine’s ass as leverage, using the other to plunge the dildo into her friend over and over. Catherine’s whole body was hot now, her muscles throbbing in time with the pummeling her pussy was taken. It was as if her heart had moved into her crotch, the blood being pushed through her limbs by the overtly large dildo Heather used.

Sticking to her end of the bargain, Catherine turned her attention downward. Though Heather’s cunt looked different from her own, she thought back to the other day, eating herself out on her bed. Running her tongue along the skin of the clitoral hood, she heard Heather gasp, the dildo’s movements temporarily halting.

Grinning, Catherine leaned into her feast. She ran her tongue in circles around the tasty jewel before her, sucking it into her mouth to roll it across her tongue. Her fingers worked their way deep into Heather, her cunt expanding to accommodate whatever Catherine gave it.

Heather’s cries were coming more frequently, making the tempo of the dildo erratic as it slipped through her trembling fingers. Catherine was up to four fingers now, and she could feel the tremors in Heather’s hips, the convulsions promising to break free of her any moment. Giving Heather’s clit one long lick, she withdrew her fingers to the very edge of Heather’s pussy, curled them into a partial fist, then drove them back inside, her hand stopped only by her thumb.

Heather screamed, releasing the dildo. Catherine’s pussy spasmed, squeezing the dildo free to smack Heather in the face. Heather didn’t care, her orgasm freeing her mind from her body. Catherine waited for the spasms beneath her to subside, then pulled her hand free.

“OH FUCK!” Heather howled, and Catherine buried her face in Heather’s pussy once more, lapping up the cream that had formed beneath her. Her own body pulsing steadily, Heather’s cries went quiet when she pulled down on Catherine’s hips, her lips finding Catherine’s soaking hot sex. Catherine sat up, reaching back to grab her tail. 

“Oh, yes, please, yes!” Catherine rolled her hips across Heather’s chin, staring down at Heather’s large breasts, watching them undulate beneath the confines of her bra. Heather was clutching tightly to Catherine’s thighs, acting as if Catherine was now her only source of oxygen. Catherine stroked her own tail as her orgasm came, marveling at how each stroke of the fur sent steady pulses throughout her entire body. She squeezed her tail tightly, letting out a loud howl as her brain reconnected to her pussy, receiving the command to cum.

“Oh, fuck, Heather!” Releasing her tail, she rode Heather’s mouth, her inexperience vanishing in the surging hot emotions that flooded her body. Beneath Catherine’s feline body was her own personal goddess, Heather’s tongue probing into her very core. She had never felt closer to another living being than she did in this very moment, and the tears on her cheeks proved it.

Catherine’s body tensed up, releasing the last of her sexual energy, and then she collapsed. Beneath her, Heather was breathing hard, like she had just run a marathon. The two of them lay this way for several minutes before Catherine crawled off of her lover, rotating her body to place her head against the side of Heather’s breasts.

They sat this way for nearly half an hour, Catherine gathering the courage to ask the only question that was currently on her mind.

“Will I keep transforming?” Catherine asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“No. This is as far as you will go,” Heather told her, slipping the collar off her neck. “As of right now, you are perfect.”

Catherine let out a sigh of relief, pressing her head against Heather’s shoulder.

“There’s my little kitty cat,” Heather said, petting Catherine gently. Sliding her head down into Heather’s lap, Catherine purred.

-

Finishing out the year proved difficult, but doable. Cat owed that to Catherine, the woman she used to be. Heather finished up her degree, picking up a part time job on the side. They were going to need the money.

Cat wasn’t particularly close with her family, who didn’t even come to see her graduate. Heather’s parents came, however, and Cat had to pretend she had a stomach virus to avoid their questioning stares. She had to wear special contacts just to make her eyes look normal.

The decision for both of them wasn’t hard. Finding a small mountain town to live in was easy, and Cat could wear long sleeves year round with nobody being any the wiser. Finding a small place at the edge of town was perfect, and Heather quickly found a secretarial job that paid decently.

Cat, however, had other plans. Her personal webcam has one of the highest viewer counts on the internet, and many people swear that it’s impossible to see past her fursona. Nobody knows who the sexy blonde she co-stars with on occasion is, but everybody who watches the show can agree that what they are seeing is true love.

This writing style is a little different for me (since I attempted to start and end a tale in one go) so let me know what you think either below or in a PM (I want to keep getting better!).  I hope you all had a fantastic February, the next chapter of HFHM is being written as we speak!