"Half." Troy whispered softly.
Drew suddenly sneezed as his nose began to darken and grow wide and wet. He wrinkled his nose, not noticing the whiskers extend from his cheeks or the area around his mouth and nose swell. Troy smiled as Drew’s greasy black hair receded and became denser, sleek, lightening in color from a black to a chocolate brown.
Troy feigned a gasp and pointed at Drew’s shifting face.
“What?” Drew asked through a mouthful of pizza, not noticing the toppings shift from sausage to anchovies. “Anchovies are really good.”
“Your face!” Troy hissed.
Lancer paused from his reading and looked up, as did Mark. Everyone else was too invested in their own conversations or simply didn’t care enough about Drew. That might change with the reality shift, or it wouldn’t.
Drew reached a hand up to his swelling face which was now almost a full-blown muzzle. He gasped, eyes wide, feeling his nose and winced when he nearly broke a whisker.
“Oh my god!” Drew panicked. “W-what’s happening to me?!”
Greg rolled his eyes. “Drew, knock it off. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Mark looked at Drew, frowning, then turned an accusatory gaze at Troy. Troy winked. Mark glowered and took out his phone and began tapping furiously on it.
“Fuck! Shit! Fuck!” Drew rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Drew ran to the bathroom.
A sudden bout of vertigo struck him. The shelves seemed to rise around him, growing taller. He stumbled, his shoes suddenly loose, and in a few steps he simply stepped out of them, as though they’d grown far too large for his feet! His pants began to fall, forcing him to grab hold of the waistband to not show off his package.
They weren’t growing, he realized. He was shrinking!
He clutched his Book close to his chest and practically dove into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Drew panted, the exertion more physical activity than he’d had since gym class in high school fifteen years ago.
Drew did a sort of shuffle-waddle to the sink, pants bunched up around his legs. Another sudden attack of vertigo struck him as he shrunk another foot. He’d grown so short he couldn’t see the mirror, maybe four feet tall at best.
He shoved a stool nearby and stood on it, taking a look at the damage, and bit back a sob.
Drew’s nose was more like a snout or muzzle, black and flared like an animal’s, though it seemed oddly smaller than it should be. The forming snout was covered in soft brown fur. It itched and tickled, spreading from his protruding muzzle and across face. More tell tale itching was spreading down his back. His unruly black hair was gone, replaced with more of the chocolatey brown fur. His jaw was sore, popping forward even more, teeth growing sharp, finishing off his fully-formed muzzle.
There was a pulling sensation as his ears rounded and stretched upwards. More brown fur covered them, the inner walls lined with tufts of cream-colored fur instead. There was a sudden pressure that made his sinuses and ear pop as his skull creaked and shrank, flattening, though the domelike shape remained.
His feet ached and lengthened. The toes of his feet merged, dark webbing stretching between them as he tried to splay them. Their nails blackened and grew sharp. He lifted his foot and watched soft pink pads grow, the sensitivity to the cold bathroom floor dimming when he set it back down. His hands were quickly following suit, his dexterity growing limited from the webbing.
More fur spread down his chest, creamy colored like the insides of his ears, from his throat to his groin. Chocolate brown fur covered the rest of him in wave after wave of tickles and itching. The cool basement shop became a bit warmer.
His spine lurched and popped as his torso stretched, momentarily making him taller. Muscles twitched and reshaped to better suit his sleeker form, but the amount of fat on his body hadn’t changed, making him look a bit like an overstuffed sausage.
Oddly, his spine didn’t stop stretching, though he grew no taller. Drew felt a large nub formed at the base of his spine. His spine started popping like a firecracker, the sensation jarring and mildly unpleasant as the nub quickly extended several feet long. A wave of brown fur quickly followed it, leaving him with an oar-like tail.
His hips popped and grew sturdier, forcing Drew hold onto a wall for support. With a lurch, he found himself shrinking again as the bone in his legs shortened. His arms followed suit, and he realized if he needed to grab anything further away he’d need to bend himself to do it. Thankfully, his spine was now flexible enough to do just that.
Drew suddenly felt hot.
At first, he thought is was the soft fur coat he had, but he realized it was something else. His balls began to swell and pulse and he couldn’t help but start panting. His cock grew fully erect and then skin stretched and pulled it to his belly, wrapping it in an increasingly snug, furry cocoon. Soft fur tickled his balls and taint.
The heat grew, and Drew groaned as his balls swelled with each pulse, growing from grapes into goose eggs. His shaft unsheathed, quickly becoming fully engorged, standing a paltry four inches and twitched excitedly. Drops of pre beaded at its tip.
Strong, warm musk rolled off his crotch, making his nose twitch. Drew started to tremble and blush. He didn’t want to give in, but the smell of his need and twitching shaft were demanding his attention. Drew found his quivering paw reach down and touch his shaft. He moaned, body spasming in a slow roll down his spine to the tip of his thick tail, the fur on the ruff of his neck standing up.
The small touch was incredible. His soft pink paw pads added a texture to his hands that were absolutely delectable on his turgid cock. It almost felt like this body had never masturbated before.
Drew gave his cock a pump and a squeeze and stiffened, pre running from his cock across his furry paw. He managed to gain a shaky breath. It felt way too god. He needed to stop-
His hand moved again in another pump and Drew leaned against the wall, moaning, his senses shot.
“So fucking good.” He gasped.
Unbeknownst to Drew, his cock was shifting under his paw as it began to move faster. The fleshy colored-cock turned pink, stretching taller, turning pink. Veins pulsed under the translucent skin.
Drew panted heavily, pink tongue lolling from his muzzle as his slick pink dick grew longer under his hand. Each slow stroke of his paw took longer and longer. Drew finally took notice when his cock was almost ten inches long and glanced down.
Oh, He thought, I’m BIG!
He licked his blackening lips and chirred happily.
Drew’s slippery paws began to glide up and down his pre-slicked shaft faster and faster. His small form trembled and shook in excitement. He could feel his climax coming quicker and quicker.
His orgasm welled up and Drew felt his paws clench involuntarily. He threw his head back, eyes growing larger, the dull brown irises expanding and turning a dewy hazel as he lost himself in the overwhelming pleasure.
With one final pump, his balls drew taught and his cock spewed pearly-white semen across the top of the sink. Drew gave a warbly, animalistic cry as his first orgasm washed through him.
After a minute of pure, orgasmic bliss, the pleasure ended. Drew panted slowly, exhausted. His large eyes rolled around the room and fell on the mirror. He found himself staring at the face of an incredibly cute, small otter man.
As post-nut clarity kicked in, and Drew, came to the conclusion that he had a problem.
The longer Drew stared at himself in the mirror, the more he realized he wasn’t just naturally cute. He seemed designed to be cute, like one of those techniques Bisney used to make characters cute enough to merchandise. Big eyes, small nose, chubby cheeks-essentially, whoever had changed him had given him a baby face.
When he'd first noticed the changes taking place outside, he'd thought it was merely a prelude to some kind of war between Myth and Beast. Now, he realized, the Book of Beast had directly targeted him. Drew didn't know who it could have been, but he had a few guesses. Like that cop, for instance. Everyone knew all cops were bastards. Or maybe it had been that weirdo Dustin, who'd been so eager to join their group. He dismissed Greg and Mark out of hand-they'd clearly been changed by the Book of Myth, as had Lancer. Troy had been nice to him and he had to be begged to join, so it couldn't be him.
Drew had another problem. His clothes no longer fit and he needed to somehow get back into that room without getting arrested for public nudity. As he turned and inspected his clothes, he thanked God that he hadn't shifted into something huge and ripped them apart. He'd done tons of LARPing a few years ago and knew how to sew. He could fix this. He just needed tools.
The small otter hopped off the stool, landing silently thanks to the pads on his feet and opened the door a crack.
"Daphne, I need your help!" He called out in a voice that was soft and slightly higher pitched, though recognizable as his own.
Daphne rolled her eyes and tossed some kind of Horror Magazine onto the counter. She dug under the desk and brought out a roll of toilet paper and walked over to the bathroom. Drew waited impatiently, shifting from paw to paw as she took her sweet time.
"Here, have a roll, Squirt." The goth girl handed him the toilet paper roll.
Drew cringed at the nickname. "I don't need toilet paper. I need scissors, a needle and thread if you have it."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Got so fat you tore the seat of your pants?"
"No!" Dew said hotly.
"I'm just messing with you Drew!" Daphne laughed and patted his head. "Yeah, we got a sewing kit in the back. Just wait here."
She left.
Drew realized something critical. She hadn't noticed anything wrong with him. And stranger still, she was being nice to him. The Daphne he knew wasn't nice to anybody. He hadn't even needed to use his Book to coerce her. Some kind of freaky reality shift was going on here.
But if reality had shifted, why hadn't his clothes adjusted? He had the Book, so of course his mind wouldn't change. It was almost like the spell was broken, only half-working.
Drew stewed, waiting for the sewing kit, and started formulating a plan.