“Okay, so...” you say to your pal Devon after stepping out of his rickety old Jeep and making your way towards the McMillan mansion at night. You’d made it past the gates and to the designated parking area, where plenty of other people had already parked and were heading the same direction.
“You really need me to go over this again, Jules?” Devon asks, the barest hint of frustration in his voice.
“I just don’t get it,” you say. “You, a barely above minimum wage Best Buy employee, have a standing invite to a yearly party at a mansion, a mansion owned by the most secretive and stupid-rich family in town, and you’re taking me, also a barely above minimum wage Best Buy employee, as your plus one?”
“That’s the gist of it,” Devon answers with a smirk. He always had this air of confidence about him that you were envious of. He’s a big guy, well over six feet tall and of a hefty build. Never had any trouble with the ladies over the years you’d known him, especially with his type, all of whom were fairly tall and hefty like him.
“And you’re taking me over... Angela? Is that your girlfriend’s name?”
“Didn’t need to take her. She’s already here,” Devon smirked again, that devil-may-care attitude practically radiating from it.
“Oh. But you needed to take me?”
“Dude. Question time over, okay? You’ll understand everything in a little bit.”
“But...”
“Question time over,” Devon reiterates. You opt to instead look at the other partygoers approaching the mansion. Just like you and Devon, everyone you see is dressed in a white tank top and gym shorts, with cheap flip flops to boot.
“You weren’t kidding about the dress code,” you remark, eyebrows raised. You particularly take notice of a dark-haired woman about your age. It’s very clear even in the early dusk darkness that she’s got both incredibly large breasts and no bra on underneath her fairly snug top.
“Hot damn,” you mutter under your breath, and even though you were very quiet and the woman wasn’t looking your way, she suddenly does, gives a grin and a wink and continues along.
“Oh shit, she heard me,” you whisper, going even quieter. How? How did she hear you?
“I did!” You hear her call out as she adds a bit of sashay to her walk. The three friends she was walking with all laugh to each other.
“Ha! Oh, that was hilarious,” Devon chimes in. “You’re actually blushing!”
“How did she hear me? I was...”
“Dude, what’d I say about questions?” Devon chides you, but you can tell he’s not actually irritated with you. Not anymore at least. You suppose a little bit of embarrassment can help people let go of annoyance.
“Okay. Okay,” you relent, and finally, you’ve arrived at the mansion’s doors. You can hear the faintest hints of music, and it’s clear that this place is pretty well packed. And extremely opulent. There’s nobody barring entry at the door, almost like if you’re here, you’re supposed to be here, so you and Devon step inside.
The foyer is massive, and ornately decorated. An expensive-looking Persian rug spreads out in the center of a marble floor, there’s a massive painting of a tiger on the wall - a tiger posed majestically against a deep green jungle environment, making it stand out vibrantly. A long, curved staircase leads up to a second floor, pausing only for a moment for a balcony overlooking the foyer. All around are signs pointing out the directions to various areas of the mansion. One says “courtyard”, one says “greenhouse”, one says “aquarium”, and another, simply, “bedrooms”. You find yourself wondering what the hell kind of party this was, but refrain from asking, since, as Devon had pointed out to you multiple times, too many questions.
“There’s my honey bear!” an exuberant cry catches you out of your trance, and you see Angela approaching you and Devon, arms wide. She was one of those big girls who wore it well, thick hips, a shapely backside, sizable knockers, and an absolutely gorgeous face. You hated to objectify like that, but you knew next to nothing else about her. No matter how long you’d been friends with Devon, you’d never really been privy to his love life.
“You’re late,” she gently chides him as she reaches up and holds him in a tight embrace, one that for the both of them, looks like they’re holding back their true intentions, like they’re biding their time until they can get more intimate.
“Had to get this loser here,” he chuckles, letting go of Angela just long enough to jerk a thumb in your direction.
“Don’t be mean,” Angela says with a pout.
“Ah, that dorkwad calls me loser all the time,” you say with a dismissive wave before extending your hand for a handshake. “Hi. I’m Jules.”
“Oh! Jules! So you’re the one Devon told me about!” She takes your hand and shakes vigorously, and you find yourself surprised by her hand strength. It hurts a little bit, but it’s clear she’s barely even squeezing for her part. “How does it feel to be the guest of honor?”
“Wait, what?” you ask, eyebrows raised. “Dude, what is she talking about?”
“Sweetie, it’s a surprise, remember?” Devon asks Angela pointedly, glancing up towards the balcony for a moment.
“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry! Mum’s the word! She’ll be out any minute now anyway!”
“Who’s ‘she’?” you can’t help but ask, your heartbeat elevated. This is all so weird, and you’re starting to think you should have just stayed home and played Smash Bros.
“Questions,” is Devon’s only answer.
Just then, the lights go out. Everything went dark, and a hush fell over the crowd. But there’s no fear, no panic from anyone. This was expected.
The silence lasts only a moment before music kicks in, loud and powerful. It takes you a moment to recognize it.
“Roar? Katy Perry?” you ask. Not really your style of music, but it played over the loudspeakers at work a lot. “Dude, am I at a secret Katy Perry concert in gym shorts?”
“Shh! It’s starting!” Angela says, and you feel her hand squeeze your shoulder.
Then, as the chorus kicks in, a spotlight illuminates the balcony, and you see... her. She’s tall. Very tall. About as tall as Devon if not a bit taller. A shock of long blonde hair sits atop her head, and her physique could put the term “statuesque” to shame. She stands, in complete nude glory, proud and unashamed, adorned only with an ornate silver necklace and bracelets. Despite her muscular body, she has all the right curves, perfect, large breasts, and eyes you could lose yourself for days in. But even all of that, all of that is far from the most striking thing about this goddess that stands above you all.
She’s covered in fur. Not like a coat, but on her skin. Orange fur, with black stripes, and a white underbelly. Her hands and feet more closely resemble paws than human appendages, her eyes, those beautiful eyes, had piercing golden irises. Her face looked like a perfect blend between human and feline, with the telltale triangular nose and black lips that clearly did not use lipstick to achieve the look. Her ears stood out from her head a bit, noticeably larger and pointed. And a long, ropy tail snakes out from above her backside, swaying back and forth sensuously.
She was a tiger, and now that song made sense.
“Buh... buh...” you stammer, but nobody pays you any mind. Nobody else at all seems a little surprised. They cheer, they applaud, they hoot and holler as she strikes a few poses.
“Hello, my lovely friends!” she speaks out, and even without a microphone, her voice rings out beautifully through the foyer. “It’s so great to see you all again! See a lot of familiar faces out there! And to all the new friends since last year, welcome! Tonight, mi Casa es su Casa! Out there, we have to hide who we are! Pretend we’re like them! But not here! Not tonight! Tonight, we dance, we sing, we eat, we drink, we make love... as ourselves! No hiding! No shame! And as of now, no more speech! Let the festivities begin!”
“Uh...” you stammer again, even more confused than before. What was going on? How was that beautiful beautiful woman a tiger? What did she mean by...
Your train of thought is interrupted by a sharp grunt from Devon. You spin around to see his form growing larger, straining against the clothes he was wearing. And it wasn’t just Devon. Angela too.
“Holy shit! Devon!” you call out. He looks up at you, and his face is... different. Broader. Darker. His eyes were nearly jet black and teeth were big and sharp.
“Check this shit out, Jules!” He laughs, as his hands become clawed. You can’t help but glance at Angela as her own clawed paw like hands tear her shirt off and free her expanding breasts as brown hair grew across both of their bodies.
“You’re... you’re...” you stammer, pointing slack jawed and surely looking very dumb.
“Mmmmmm there’s my big sexy honey bear,” Angela murmurs, making overt bedroom eyes at Devon as they continue to change.
“Honey bear,” you repeat in shock. It wasn’t a term of endearment. It was literal. Devon and his girlfriend were turning into bears.
And it wasn’t just them. All around you, people were... changing. Some growing smaller as they became mice. Others growing much much bigger as they became elephants. A guy turning into a pig walks past you muttering to himself how desperately he wants to find the buffet. A girl probably no older than eighteen stretches out a pair of beautiful, colorful macaw wings. You feel a hard object tap you on your right shoulder, so you spin around. A group of stark naked doe women stand in front of you. It takes you a moment, but from the shape of the body of the one who tapped your shoulder with a hoof-like hand, you can tell she’s the woman from before, the one you couldn’t help but notice waking in.
“Told you I could hear you,” she says with a sly smirk. “Hope you’re a buck. We could all use one.”
“Oh! I forgot one thing! Silly me!” You hear the tiger woman’s voice call out once more. Despite all the weirdness around you, or perhaps because of it, you snap your attention up to her.
“I know all of us who’ve been here before know, but we’ve got a bunch of first-timers here tonight, so I’ve gotta lay out the big rule. No hunting each other. That means wolves, be nice to the bunnies. We big cats will be nice to the deer...”
“And we appreciate it!” the doe woman who had spoken to you called out, prompting her girlfriends (herd?) to giggle.
“I know you do!” she answered, and for a moment, those gorgeous golden eyes lingered on you. The lone human. “Feel free to socialize and mingle among the species, get freaky however you want, and just have fun! I’m Lynn McMillan, and let’s get it on, you party animals!”
She begins to descend the stairs, and the shock of it all starts to wear off. Everyone around you is turning into... animal people. Every one of them completely nude, some getting frisky, most just socializing like it was any other party. You feel overwhelmed by the urge to run away, to get out of there. So you do just that. You run blindly, unsure of where you’re actually headed.
“Dude! Jules!” you hear Devon call out, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. At least, not until a collision stops you. You run face-first into a strong, fur-covered torso, and the impact knocks you on your butt. The animal you ran into seems barely fazed, and extends a paw to help you up, which you unconsciously accept.
“What’s the rush?” Lynn McMillan asks, and you find yourself immediately mortified. In your panic, you ran face-first into the host of the party. She towers over you. You feel fear at first, but looking into her face, you see... kindness? Bemusement? Not the lean, hungry, predatory glare you’d expect from a tiger.
“And by that, I mean why are you running? On the other thing, you haven’t even started! Let loose, baby doll! Everyone else is!” She gives you a playful smack on the ass, which jolts you a bit. But it hits more with a thump than anything else. Padded paws.
“I uh... I uh... oh god, I don’t know what’s going on here...” you stammer.
“First time,” she nods her head, and then realization struck her, and her eyes went wide and she showed a toothy grin. “Wait! You’re the guy Big Bear Devon called about! Didn’t take the surprise well, did you? That’s Devon for ya.”
“You... you know him?” You ask.
“Since we were kids! Not a lot of people at this party are ever local, ya know?”
“Oh. I uh... I uh... I see,” you’re trying your best to process.
“So... Jules, right?” she asks.
“Yeah...”
“Tell me something, Jules, and I want you to take a deep breath and center yourself before you do. You’re in no danger here, at all.”
“No danger...” you repeat after her, taking a deep breath and letting it out slow. Your eyes wander to her breasts for a moment. They’re practically eye-level, after all.
“Good, good. Okay, so tell me... how do you feel?”