You continue to flaunt in front of the mirror caressing your newly furred body hugging your arms around your chest as you purr deeply in your feline satisfaction, your long tail curling around your legs in kind. As you twist and sway in place you start to notice that your stubby padded fingers suddenly begin to lose their grip around your arms, curling tighter as you might doesn't help in the matter. You finally draw them back out in front looking over them, eyes flutter bewildered to find your fingers either shrinking or swelling more than they had before, your own thumbs aching as you watch them pull back against your wrists...or were your palms extending? Either way, they no longer resemble any shred of humanity changing completely into feline kitty paws.
At first seeing this is bit frightening no longer having the full function of usable hands like an normal person would, nor the gripping benefit of opposable thumbs. Yet a thought suddenly crosses your mind that makes your situation less complex, the idea that you have no need for human hands or thumbs when your paws were already suited for your most basic needs; to run and jump and swipe and groom. Cats don't have any use for this human stuff anyways. You double take at the thought feeling something was wrong with that statement, but as you start to bring one of your forepaws to your muzzle, sniff and lick at it to wet your cheeks and ears the conflict drifts from your consciousness.
As you groom your face your claws snag strands of your hair not noticing at first how much you have pulled out. You pause before licking into your padded digits catching the sight in your paws reaching up your head with the other as you comb and pull at your hair marveling at the clump that easily came off. There is no pain as you start brushing and clawing at your hair, more and more locks falling off effortlessly until their is barely any left upon your furry head. You look to the mirror as you wipe and groom off the last of your human hair feeling some measure of lament for your loss, but the feeling passes quickly admiring your more natural feline appearance without it.
That wasn't my fur, you think grooming between your ears as you happily purr.
Weird warmth from your chest distracts your grooming as you look down and tilt your head in confusion. You had forgotten that you were wearing some strange fabric covering your upper body, and as you glance back at the mirror (barely surprised that the reflective fixture seems a tad larger and taller than before showing only you above your chest) you frustratingly groan and yowl. This large cloth hides your fur and feels too cumbersome for a cat to be wearing. Without much thought you run your forepaws at the fabric tearing at the cloth with your claws until furry breast and fur spill out into view. You wriggling your arms and let the tattered remains slip off behind. It feels wonderful to be rid of that odd cloth as you enjoy rubbing your forepaws against the sensitive bulging mounds that had been constricted underneath.
These were your teats...at least a few. But why were they this engorged? You are not bearing kittens yet; it is too early to be filled with milk. Admittedly; these bulbous teats certain felt good to touch, arousing even, but they weren't natural for a cat. As if sensing this dilemma the warmth returned around your swollen teats, and within less than a minute they deflate. They retain some swelling around the teats but at least now they wouldn't pose a problem when traversing on all fours. Stomach pinches as you can feel the tips of growing teats surfacing under your fur, immediately after your chest creaks and expand barreling outward. Your forearms become harder to splay out as they hug your sides, both neck and torso suddenly pulling and stretching so much that it became uncomfortable to continue standing on your hindpaws.
Dropping onto all fours; however, not only felt better and natural but you realize the recent changes to your own body's frame betters your feral posture. Everything is beginning to feel right, the odd features and the unnatural figure you once had melting away as you can finally stand and walk about the room naturally as the cat you are. You mew and purr happily as you start to explore your den rubbing and marking anything and everything that belongs to you and gives off a pleasant scent.
However you realize that, even with the room having become much larger than before, there wasn't much room to do anything a cat would do. You are enclosed; trapped, and there is no one around to play with. What's worse; your heat still aches for another round wanting true stimulation from any affectionate tomcat you can find. Did your calls earlier attract anyone to come to your rescue? What is a Queen to do?