You struggle to resist the pleasure of being petted, and finally rouse yourself from your complacency. Swatting away the masseuse with strength that startles even
you, you sit up and jump down from the table, your towel not even a concern to you as it falls to the ground. Dashing over to Beth, you don't even notice that
you're walking on the balls of your feet. Instinctively, you snarl at her masseuse, and he backs away. You help her off of her table and she muzzlily complies, rising
to walk sleepily on ditigrade pawlike feet.
The masseuses that were attending you have backed to the wall, and one sounds a nearby gong, as if to raise an alarm. With a sudden burst of strength you grab
Beth by the waist and sling her over your shoulder. You can't tell if it's her fur tickling your skin or if you yourself are that far gone by now. It hardly matters,
though, as escape has become your priority. The pads of your bare feet slap moistly against the polished stone as you run through the palace, a force that's almost
instinct driving you away from your pursuers, men with spears.
Your feet touch cool, soft earth as you flee the palace, your path inexorably leading into the jungles that surround it. It feels good somehow, feels right to be in the
jungle. You know somehow that you are no longer followed, and you let Beth down, leaning her against a large gnarled tree.
Beth is pretty far gone, by the look of how much she's changed. She looks to have stopped on the cusp between woman and tigress. Her figure is still feminine, but
every inch of her is covered in lush, striped fur, her new tail twitching lazily. Her face has begun to push out into a slight muzzle, and she yawns in your direction,
showing teeth that could easily be deadly. Sprawling down from her head to nearly her knees is a thick, lush mane, auburn and black and cream, nearly striped and
wafting in the breeze.
You seem to have fared a little better, having retained much of your outward humanity. Much like Beth, though, you've grown a mane. You can't help but think
what an amazing feeling it is to have one, really, examining how it's grown in. It's not just sprouted from your scalp; hair several feet in length extends from your
cheeks, your neck, your shoulders and your upper back, all blending into the luxurious streaked, striped growth that cascades down and tickles your flesh. Your
pointed, sensitive ears twitch, poking from the tangled mass of hair.
You feel your face with hands whose nails have sharpened considerably, twirling your new whiskers around your undeveloped demi-claws. Probing with your
tongue reveals the beginnings of fangs in your mouth. Looking down, you see downy growths that while patterned like a tiger are too thin to yet be fur on your arms
and legs. Below your navel you see modesty preserved by a ruff of ivory fur concealing your privates.
A delightful mix of woman and tigress. You muse to yourself that it wouldn't be so bad if when you escaped, you stayed like this.
Beth seems to be coming to her senses slowly, looking up at you questionably.