The pain starts in between your eyes. Still, if it's inevitable anyway, you are determined to face your fate with stoicism, a little dignity, at the very least. You know, whatever dignity a grown man in the middle of transforming into a furry woodland creature has left to him.
Your gray nose twitches and feels cold- damp, maybe- and with it, your long white whiskers quiver. Your teeth hurt; your jaw throbs, and your tongue tingles as you run it over your lengthening buckteeth. Your scalp tickles and your ears...pop. Reaching back, you find a pair of long furry ears, moving tangibly up your skull, pushing up through your (human) hair, though from the strands before your eyes it is turning gray, and growing shorter. The changes seem to be going more quickly, at any rate, and while that is decidedly disturbing, the pain of the transformation does seem less severe. You try to breathe evenly, as your sinuses, your whole nasal cavity, enlarges, with an audible crack. You grunt. Your heart beats more quickly- more rabbitishly, maybe- and you reach up with one arm, to run your...forepaw, up and down your new face. Your chin is mostly gone, and your whiskers twinge at this rough treatment. Looking down, your arm- foreleg- is short and furry, and looks flabby, almost pudgy, where it disappears up your sleeve. Rubbing around your neck, you find the skin loose and soft and, of course, furry. You think perhaps, that your foreleg is done changing, and perhaps your head as well-
CRACK
"Yeowch! Fuck, that HURT!" you...squeak.
Well, you can still talk, it seems. Cuss, at any rate, and in a comically raised voice, but it's something. The spectacle of a talking rabbit might be interesting, but probably not as fascinating as watching you transform from the outside. That crack was your skull distending, your eyes shifting further apart, approaching the side of your head, giving you a surreal panoramic view, though your vision remained in colour, for now.
Fur is racing up your legs, fluffing out inside your shorts, in one side and out the other. You are beginning to think removing your clothes was a good idea. At this point it seems to be moot, however, as your other hand, you can see, is well on the way to pawhood. You can feel the spread of fur down your chest and back, pricking up ticklishly beneath the sweaty t-shirt. The sensation of change is almost titillating, as it moves into your boxers. You can scarcely help giving a little gasp- your voice squeaks again- as, both at once, a cottonball tail pops out underneath you and a squiggly little dance happens somewhere south of your stomach. The fur there is left... sticky, and you are left spent, thinking of very little as your the fur swallows the pink human toes on your right foot, and your eyesight slowly dims to black and white.