Fur. Grey fur. Short grey fur like a rat’s. It covered everything from my waist to my knees like a weird pair of shorts. Near about the only part it didn’t grow hair was along the length of my penis. Fur. I was slowly transforming into a rat girl with a dick day by day.
I started taking notes about my transformation after that, like with a pen and paper and everything. Day One, grew a vagina behind my ball sack. Day Two, tail. Day Three, turned into a girl. Day Four, fur. The pattern was obvious. It was always one major transformation per day. I was slowly turning into a rat girl with a dick. I would try to get to the bottom of this, but I didn’t know where to start.
I just went to school bottomless again (ooh, add that fact to the list) and tried to get on with my day. I had to learn how to scrub my fur on a regular basis to keep it from getting disgusting. This was especially true for whenever I needed to use the bathroom since, as I’m sure you could imagine, it got pretty unsightly back there whenever I dropped the kids off at the pool. Thank the lord for wet wipes!
Is was on that day, a Friday I remember, that Carlos invited me to hang over the weekend and play the new Bravo Company. I was all like “hell yeah, dude!” At the very least I still seemed to be bros with Carlos, even through it all.
That day after school I went home and packed an overnight bag with my chat headphones and some spare shirts. I took my usual shortcut to get to Carlos’ place, just some longish alleyway that cut through the neighborhood. Something about the route that day was different, though. There was a dumpster that was never there before. A dumpster that had a door built into it. It was as I walked past this dumpster that I heard someone call out to me. With my name.
I turned around and saw this short, cloaked figure, clutching an ancient scepter for balance as it hobbled towards me. The only part of their face I could see past the hood was a twitching rat nose. I could see a long tail dragging on the ground behind them. I felt like they were staring me down.
“I thought thought I would be finding you here, little pinkie,” the figure said in a voice like an old hag, “Hmm… yes yes, I know all about you, Jordan.”
So I was like “What? How do you know my name? Who are you, lady?”
“Hrmm,” the hooded rat growled, “No no, I will not not be telling you who I am just just yet. Not not until you finish developing, little pinkie. For now now, just call me Old Crone.”
“Wait a minute,” I interjected, “What do you mean developing?”
“Hmm, now that that I can answer,” the Old Crone nodded, “You’re not done turning into a rat rat yet. Your face face… still still human. Your butt and thighs… still still skinny! Your genits… still still small! You still don’t don’t even have a belly, or or boobs! No no, you still have much much development to get through. Plus plus… you’re still too too tall! Only once you’re finished developing, I will tell tell you everything. We will meet meet again, Jordan. Goodbye dear!” With that, the Old Crone hobbled back into her dumpster house.
I sprinted to Carlos’ after that encounter. By the time Carlos saw me I was practically out of breath. He was all like, “Dude, Jordan, you okay dawg? What took so long? You didn’t get mugged or anything, did you?”
So you know what I did? I told him the truth I said “Carlos, I ran into an Old Crone on the way over. She said that I’m gonna turn into a rat.”
“You mean like more of a rat than usual?” Carlos asked.
“Yeah man, like more than usual,” I nodded.
“Dude like,” Carlos sighed, “let’s just forget about this and go play some Bravo Company. You wanna play terrorists or counter-terrorists?”
The night calmed down after that. Carlos’ folks ordered pizza that evening, and we played video games late into the night. We stayed up until past midnight when Carlos looked at me all bug eyed.
“Jordan,” he said, “Have you always had…?”