Jason headed straight up to his room. Normally he would've gone down to his basement workshop, but he was extremely drained and in no mood for computer repair. Stripping down to his boxers, he threw on his ratty old pajama shirt, carefully lowered himself into bed to avoid upsetting his stomach, pulled the comforter over himself, and went to sleep.
It was some hours later when he woke. He was nauseous again, and rushed to the upstairs bathroom, arriving just in time to heave his guts out into the toilet. He waited for a few minutes to make sure it was over, then rinsed out his mouth and headed back to his room, he then heard claws ticking on the linoleum floor of the bathroom.
Claws!?
Jason looked at his feet. Sure enough, they had become cat-style paws, the back of the foot now angled sharply upward in a digitigrade shape all the way up to his now higher ankles. Both feet were covered in orange tabby fur. So it was cat scratch, after all.
Jason managed to suppress a yell. There was no sense in waking his mother; she would have to deal with the changes that were going to happen to him, but she could do that in the morning, when she wouldn't lose any sleep over it.
Jason, on the other hand, had to deal with it right now. He knew from the educational video that he was going to become a cat-person, and nothing could be done about it, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding or his pulse from racing. Realizing that there was nothing to do but get it over with, he made his way back to bed.
Time passes slowly when sleep won't come, and very few things keep you awake like the prospect of becoming an entirely different creature over the course of the night. Jason lay on his side, mind racing. What would happen to him? How would his mother react? Would his classmates treat him differently? What about the people in his church? They professed Christian love for the victims of cat scratch fever, and he had always found them to be decent, kind people, but what if he'd misjudged them? Would people still trust their computers to them once he was a cat like they had when he was human? Most importantly, what if he became a girl?
That, of course, was the single biggest worry, and came with its own little set of sub-worries. The worst thing for male cat scratch victims was the knowledge that the odds were against them remaining male; about three out of every four men changed by it became women, whereas only one out of fifty women became men. This fear and all its attendant concerns - will I like boys, will boys like me, will I have to wear dresses and skirts and act girly - raced through Jason's head, keeping him awake and nervous even when sheer exhaustion was trying to drag him back to sleep. He finally managed to put it out of his head, convincing himself that it wouldn't happen; after all, he reasoned, one in four is many orders of magnitude better than the odds of winning a lottery, and people win lotteries all the time. Thus reassured, he drifted off to sleep.
It was very late that night when he awoke again; fortunately, he wasn't nauseous, he just had to go to the bathroom. He made his way over to the bathroom, taking the opportunity to inspect the changes. He had a tail now, for one thing, somewhere between three and four feet long. It swished behind him as he emptied his bladder, then examined himself further. The changes had reached his navel now; his entire lower body was covered in fur, including his penis, which, he noted to his great relief, was still perfectly intact. And his legs and hips had changed with gaining the telltale curves; he was safe.
True, there were a few cases where the gender change came last of all, but these were extremely rare, only one sex-switched person in a thousand had that happen. The huge majority of transgender cases had the sex change make its way up the body at the same time as the rest of the transformation; Jason could still recall a chilling candid photo featured in the health class video of a teenage boy, his lower half transformed, staring down into his sweatpants in horror as he realized that he was becoming a she.
No, Jason's manhood was safe, and that was the important thing. The only change he'd have to deal with would be becoming a cat. He idly noted that the for down the middle of his abdomen, tapering down past his crotch to the base of his tail, was a soft white, in contrast to the white-striped orange fur on the rest of his cat parts. Yawning a deep and exhausted yawn, he returned to bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Jason awoke late the next morning; a glance at the clock revealed it to be almost noon. What a crazy dream he'd had! He had dreamt that he'd come down with the flu, only it turned out to be cat scratch fever, and he'd spent most of the night alternating between puking and panicking, only getting to sleep when he finally confirmed that he wasn't turning into a girl. Crazy, but he didn't feel even slightly nauseous, so he must have dreamt the entire flu ordeal. He rolled out of bed, stood up, and stretched, placing his hands on his buttocks as he leaned backwards.
He stopped. His buttocks were curvier than he remembered. His hips were wider. His hair had fallen into his face when he'd rolled out of bed. And there was an unfamiliar weight on his chest, which turned out to be two breasts. but he could still feel the weight of is dick and balls. he checked and found not only his cock and balls but a pussy as well.
He had become a futa girl!