"Leonin," Troy answered.
"I always took you for a furry," Mark snickered, trying to stifle it.
Troy frowned.
"C'mon man. Don't be like that. Leonin's are awesome. Plus 2 to constitution and plus 1 to strength. Plus dark vision, a natural weapon and a daunting roar!" Then Mark’s giggles started to resurface. "Plus it means you're obviously a furry."
"Whatever," Troy glared as he returned back to his desk chair. He rocked it back and forth, trying to subdue his anger from the call-out. “Why make a fucking furry creature if it's not supposed to be used? And who doesn't want to be a massive muscular lion creature? That shit's awesome,” he tried massaging his ego a bit. “Who'd want to be some skimpy elf anyways. I'd much rather be a lion”
“And that's why you're a furry!” Mark laughed.
Silence filled the air, then Troy heard Mark quietly mutter to himself, “I really don’t get the allure of furries, but Ken, Ben and Troy are interested in them and that’s 50% of my players, so I guess beast races are very popular choices. DND marketing department knows its stuff.”
“I can hear you.” Troy rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be buff.”
Troy didn’t want to start another fight, but he wanted Mark to be sure that Troy would hear him even if he spoke quietly.
“Stupid acoustics,” Mark muttered, then raised his voice slightly. “You can be a half-orc or a bugbear if you wanna be strong, man.”
“Aren’t bugbears furries?” Troy frowned.
“Eh, it’s one of those weird borderline cases.” Mark replied. “Firbolgs are one of them too. Not really my thing.”
“Nah, you wanna be a magical twink.” Troy snorted.
“Everyone wants to be what they aren’t, Troy.” Mark sounded sad. “Hey, let’s say someone had a magical object that could change reality, as long as no one heard it. How would you change yourself with it?”
Troy frowned. “You could do it a few ways, but you either have to trust someone else completely, or you get super creative and hope for the best.”
“Creative?”
“Like, videotape yourself and then use the artifact on the image of yourself. Because it’s technically in the past, it can’t heear you. But that’s where the problems start.”
Mark shifted in his chair. “Problems?”
“Say you change yourself. You’re an Elf. You’ve always been an Elf. And you think your spell failed. Because you can’t comprehend you altered yourself because your memories changed along with reality. See the issue?”
“So I’ll never be happy? Erm, theoretically.”
“There’s a saying that the grass is always greener on the other side. Now, a smart person would just use the artifact to transform themselves into a Dragon as themselves in the human form their Dragon chose to conceal themselves as. Dragons can polymorph themselves into anything, including Elves. Wouldn’t have to worry about your identity, because no one expects a dragon.”
“That is incredibly convoluted.” Mark said, “But I followed it. Bravo. So Mark is the Clark Kent of a Dragon.”
“Right. Or convince someone to turn you into an Elf…theoretically, then hope they don’t steal the artifact or whatever.”
“Then, theoretically, I don’t trust anyone. That’s a huge risk.” Mark’s voice rose a bit higher. “Why are you so sure about how this stuff works anyways?”
“We live in a world where magic is an every day occurrence, and I’ve gotten stoned and had this exact conversation with some gnomes in college.”
“Well shit, Troy, if the GNOMES said it, then of course it’s true.”
“There’s a bunch of artifacts that can do that,” Troy lied, snorting. “Is that how you’re cosplaying? Those spells are off limits in the office. You do know that, right?”
“...Wait, fuck, are they?”
At that moment, Mr. Andersen’s secretary Doris came flying over his head and hovered over Mark’s cubicle.
Troy did an honest-to-God spittake. Doris the Dower, terror of the cubicles was a Pixie. In the face she looked exactly like Doris, serious and uncompromising. However, she now wore her hair in a bun and the extra weight she normally would have been carrying had trimmed out to almost nothing as she was incredibly skinny. She wore a tight dress that showed off her curves.
The small pixie adjusted her tiny pink horn-rimmed glasses and cleared her throat.
"Mr. Vender," Doris addressed Mark. "Mr. Anderson would like to have a few words with you about your costume. He finds it very 'unprofessional.' For human males, hair must be kept no more than 4 inches long and clothes must fit properly. Please see him at your earliest convenience. I suggest now, as he'll stew over this all day and only make things worse."
"C'mon... Don't make this an issue. Lesser Shift," Mark replied.
Doris glared at Mark and spoke a word that thundered in Troy’s ears. “Dispel Magic!”
Instantly Mark’s elvish style disappeared and all his weight packed onto him again. His lean arms bulked up, red hair sprouting on it, while his thin waist ballooned out in front of him. Mark let out a grunt as he adjusted his belt as it was just a few rings too tight on him. The bright red hair on his head shrank to almost nothing and a curly red beard grew out of his chin.
Doris adjusted her glasses. "Magic is strictly prohibited in the office setting Mr. Vender. I'll keep this to myself; however, I must strongly suggest again you meet with Mr. Anderson sooner rather than later."
Then she flew away, not waiting for an answer.
"Fucking Andersen!” Mark cursed to himself. “Why's he gotta fit the dwarf stereotype so well? Should have just made him a magical piece of Christmas shit or something..."
"Don't get too mad about it," Troy scooted his chair back to try to console Mark. The last thing he needed was someone turning into a massive dragon and destroying the place. "I'm sure if you just talk to Mr. Anderson, he'll listen."
Mark let out a heavy sigh. "You think?"
"Fuck no!" Troy shrugged. “He’s going to fire you because you’ve been busy fucking around with that ‘theoretical’ artifact of yours instead of filing your reports on time.”
“I’ll burn this place to the ground.” Mark’s eyes flared angrily.
“Lucky for you,” Troy sighed, “I already did all those reports. Because I’m a doormat like that. I’ll send you the files with the dates and times on them. Andersen probably misplaced them, but whatever you do, don’t blame him. If he tries to fire you, show him the fourth file.”
“What’s the fourth file?”
“Him wearing his wife’s lingerie on Snapchat.” Troy smirked. “I’ve been holding on to that one for a while. If he gets angry, threaten to circulate it to everyone on the floor.”
Mark checked his e-mails and chuckled. "I’ll be damned."
"See?" Troy nodded encouragingly. "Sometimes you gotta think outside the box."
"Thanks for the advice Mr. Leonin." Mark stood up, grabbing his Book and started off towards Mr. Anderson's office. "Can't wait to hear your words of wisdom when you're just a furry musclehead."
"Wa-wait! Hold up. Why are you taking that book?" Troy didn't want to seem too desperate, but if that book was in Mr. Anderson's office, he wouldn't have easy access to it. And did he say musclehead?
Mark looked down at it, a devious smile curled on his lips. "Just in case I need something to read. I'll be back in a minute."
As Mark walked down the cubicles, Troy saw him look back at him and mouth a word.
"Shit!" he hissed, ducking down behind the cheap dividing walls. Already his nails were turning black. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"
He grabbed his phone and fumbled for his desk drawer where he’d locked the Book. It wouldn’t open. The key! Where'd he put it? He abandoned his search when he felt heat build in his veins as his heart began to pound and the transformation began in earnest. He needed to get out of here, get somewhere more private.
Troy huddled himself down as much as possible as he ran for the men's bathroom. His nails had already sharpened into claws. He could feel his toes digging at his shoes. The sharp points were making their way through the leather. His poor socks never stood a chance. Then, with more than a little relief, his shoes grew.
"Damn it!" Troy groaned as pure testosterone rushed through his veins and left him feeling dizzy and hot.
His clothes rapidly tightened onto him too fast for reality to adjust, straining the seams. Muscle was rapidly adding onto his leaner frame in tandem with the throb of testosterone. Bones and sinew creaked and grew in a vain effort to keep up with the muscle. Troy panted, trying to think of what to do, but each rush of testosterone pushed the thoughts away. He managed to make it to the bathroom and locked the door behind him, fumbling at the latch with hands that were swelling with each beat of his heart.
The cool air of the bathroom felt refreshing against his hot skin. As he stepped in, looking for a stall to hide in, he felt his feet crack and adjust to a more animal like stance, forcing him to fall onto the sinks as he tried to walk. His shoes doubled in size as his feet grew, widening to support his massive frame. Thick leathery pads grew under his heels and toes. He flexed his toes and to Troy's horror, claws pushed through special openings in his shoes. Like they were designed for Leonin feet in mind.
If his clothes were changing, that meant reality was shifting. Troy needed to act fast, before his mind changed. He fought against the heat pulsing in his veins, struggling to come up with a plan. Dustin! If he called Dustin and convinced him to bring the Book to Troy ASAP, he might make it. He dug into his tightening pants, snagged his phone and opened it.
His thumbs were already growing bigger, making it hard for him to use it. His claws were even worse. But he still made it to the messages. Dustin's name was at the top. 'Com t battthroooo ext o my dsk.' It looked horrendous, but with the size of his fingers, it was the best he could do. Troy hit send and his claw tore through the screen. Troy swore and tried to hit send, but the message didn’t go out. He’d broken his phone! Worse, with his growing paw pads, Troy didn't think there was going to be a chance to text again even if he borrowed another one.
Tawny yellow fur covered his hands and feet completely and was rapidly running up his arms and legs. Testosterone washed through him again and again, his grip on the sink tightened. Everywhere the fur touched seemed to grow even faster. Thick forearms and even thicker biceps filled his arms. The growth was so rapid, the testosterone coursing through him unstoppable. Muscle was building on muscle. He could feel what felt like thousands upon thousands of hours of working out all being done in just mere seconds. His chest expanded with each heaving breath he took.
Troy looked into the mirror and paused, taking in his shuddering, enlargening frame, and stared down his perfectly fitting dress shirt. A massive chest laid there before him. He carefully unbuttoned his shirt and licked his lips. A stupid smile crept up on his face as the yellow fur covered two heavy pecs that pulsed and grew, veins worming across them as he became vascular. Even more surprising was the abs right underneath them. He bounced his pecs and flexed his abs, admiring himself in the mirror. If this was the way he was going out, he might as well enjoy the view a bit.
One of his hands ran over his chest and body. He could feel the leathery skin of the paw pads even through his tight clothes and dense fur. They dropped down his abs and then a bit lower. His pants were tight over the growth of his quads and waist. Pain blossomed right above his ass and he felt a sensitive nub pop out of his spine. He let out a deep, commanding growl as he gripped the sink. Troy flexed his hands involuntarily and the edge of the sink cracked as his pants shifted, a hole stitched into the back, and then his tail bone grew out, growing longer and longer down his backside. Golden fur quickly followed and a brown tuft at the end.
The sudden pain made it hard for him to keep his eyes open, so Troy wasn't able to see his mouth and jaw shift into a muzzle. It started to grow away from his face and his teeth inside shifted and changed into much sharper predator teeth. Troy panted and waited for his body to finish. He stood up at his full height, nearly 7' and flexed his massive bicep. Muscles popped and he shot his reflection a smile. He had to admit he made one sexy beast. Absolutely chiseled.
His office provided a bathroom scale that he stepped on, '489' the numbers read. His dick hardened, tenting his pants. He fished it out, the cock proportionate to his body and mostly human. Troy hissed as his hand encircled his pink cock and rubbed a few little nubs that circled it. It was so sensitive.
A voice in the back of his head warned him not to do it. Troy looked up at his reflection, seeing his forearms bulging with muscles, suit fitting him tight enough to show off all the hills and valleys of his massive form. His fist began to pump up and down on his huge shaft and pre spilled from the tip. His tawny furred pecs bounced with every stroke, fueling Troy’s lust. Yeah, he was a real fucking beast. A fine specimen of a Leonin.
Dimly, over the burning of testosterone in his veins and the pleasure of his pre-slicked fist pumping his rigid cock, Troy was aware that his muscles were growing again, fueled by his hours at the gym. He shook his head, tossing his tawny mane back and forth, trying to shake the memories away and only further jumbling his thoughts. He'd never been to the gym. He…he really needed to get to that Book, or he’d be like everyone else here. But the thrill he felt at seeing that massive body in the mirror and knowing it was him...It couldn’t be topped. Not like he could take back all those hours at the gym anyways.
Intellectually, knew he was human, but that thought made less and less sense as the testosterone coursing through him made his chest swell larger, shoulders and rib cage straining as they grew along with his muscles. Troy’s spine cracked and popped and his view of himself rose a few inches higher. The handsome Leonin in the mirror looked at himself and blinked, dizzy and confused. No human could be this big. Testosterone pulsed through him again, muddling his thoughts further. Why-why did he think he was human? His furry balls swelled and pulsed and even that thought was washed away.
He could feel his orgasm coming, low-hangers tightening and pulling up his thighs. The Leonine smacked his chops as a deep animalistic growl rumbled in his chest, padded paw pumping his pink shaft. He-he couldn't cum, he needed to hang on to himself, he needed to...needed to....Troy’s eyes narrowed to slits and he roared loud enough to make the mirror rattle, his big cock bucking, balls pumping and throbbing, letting out spurt after spurt of pure leonine seed. The streamers of cum splattered the mirror, covering his reflection.
Troy panted and sagged against the sink, his barbed Leonine tongue hanging out. The pulse of testosterone eased. Troy chuffed, tasting the air, enjoying his masculine scent. He had no idea what had come over him, but that one was going into his top five orgasms list.
He cleaned himself up, straightening his tie over his skin-tight dress shirt and pants that left nothing of his overly-muscular body to the imagination. Troy licked his cum off the mirror and walked back to his cubicle. Mark left Mr. Andersen’s office just as Troy left the bathroom and they passed each other.
“Looking good big cat.” Mark chuckled. “How’s it hangin’ musclehead?”
“Low and to the left, bro.” Troy smirked and patted his muscular thigh. “How’d the meeting with the boss go?”
“You saved me, man.” Mark shrugged. “Good looking out.”
Troy sat back in his cubicle, pants straining to contain his glutes, making sure he didn't sit on his tail. He started typing, but the words on the screen were blurry. He rubbed his eyes, then fished his glasses from his breast pocket and put them on, hoping no one saw him. He was far-sighted.
The words on the screen jumped into focus. Troy sighed and began running the numbers, but it was harder-or at least, he thought it was harder. It was like his thoughts were a step too slow. The numbers weren't adding up. The leonin's tail twitched back and forth in frustration and finally, after redoing the numbers the fifth time, the Leonin roared and slammed his keyboard.
"Troy?" Mark asked, coming around his cubicle.
Troy snarled, face in his paws.
"Hey Big Cat, it's okay." Mark tried comforted him, though the words conflicted with the wry smile playing across his lips. "Numbers are hard, bud."
"I feel so dumb." It was true. His mind felt slower, less agile. Thoughts cottony. Troy's massive back shuddered. "I just wish work was easier."
"Yeah, easier. I can do that." The red-headed bear smiled. "I'll make things so much easier for you."
Mark rubbed his back and the Leonin leaned into him. A few scratches under his magnificent mane and the Leonin let out a rumbling purr. Makr paused to write something in his Book.
"There we go. You're a strong guy, it's okay for you to be dumb." Mark smirked. "And those glasses are cute on you."
"Yeah?" Troy asked, looking up at Mark with dulling yellow eyes. 'You think I'm cute?"
"Yeah." Mark rubbed lower, hand moving towards the Leonin's bulge. "Let me take care of that for you."
The massive Leonin leaned back in his chair, groaning, as Mark slowly stroked his meat. Mark felt all the Leonin's muscles and Troy let the tension ease from the, not notice them swell lightly under his touch. He rumbled another purr.
"No more big thoughts Big Cat." Mark nodded, hand gently easing Troy's erection, watching his eyes dull a bit more as his muzzle squared, brow thickening. "You just sign stuff, okay?"
Troy nodded, eyes glazed, as the folds of his brain began to smooth. Not enough to make him an idiot, but he wouldn't be giving out any unwanted advice any time soon. Mark's strokes quickened, and Troy felt his orgasm rise. He shouldn't cum-not here, in the middle of the office. But he wasn't sure why anymore.
He was...was gonna...
"There we go, Big Cat. There we go. Let it out." Mark soothed, enjoying the slack expression on Troy's muzzle.
Troy gave a happy yowl, claws curling through his shoes, and flooded his pants with cum.
Mark smiled, watching the dumb Leonin pant. He reached forward and adjusted Troy's glasses, which had been knocked askew, and straightened his tie. Troy chuffed happily before signing documents Mark passed to him. It was his only job now.
“Gotta ask you something.” Mark asked, finger stroking under the Leonin's chin. “If you could be a human, would you?”
“A human?" Troy's wide chest issued a rumbling chuckle. "Why would I ever want to be human?”
“We were having a discussion about an artifact earlier…” Mark smiled.
“Oh,” Troy scratched the back of his ear, massive arm flexing with the movement, vaguely remembered something like that. “You’d have to change me first or...something? Nah, I’m happy with who I am.”
“Thought so.” Mark grinned. “We still on for DND?”
"After the gym..” Troy did some curls with the free weights on his desk. "Does it have hard stuff like math?"
"Aw, don't worry, you can sit next to me." Mark smiled. "I'll help you out. Dice could get confusing for you."
"As long as you're there to help me, sure!" Troy grinned happily.
Mark grinned back and returned to his cubicle.
A guy named Dustin stopped by, babbling about a Book. Troy checked his locked cabinet and handed it to him. The dude thanked him and left. Troy wondered who that was, but he decided it didn’t matter and sipped his protein shake.
Mmmm. He licked his chops. Steak flavor.