My alarm clock blared again with a head-splitting chirp. Groggily, as I slammed a hand down on the snooze button, it dawned on me that my plan must have worked. Not that I felt particularly well-rested for a man who'd just slept for thirteen hours straight. And as snippets of restless dreams and half-awake states all throughout the past night swam through my aching head, I realized I'd probably gotten less actual sleep than I would on a normal night.
I didn't really want to remember what those dreams were about, and for the most part, I couldn't. All I had were a few jumbled images, none of which seemed particularly sexy or explained why I was so pent up. Snapshots of nature, fields and forests. Memories of that dark highway, headlights glinting against the asphalt. And that furry little creature I almost ran over on that impossible night kept coming back to me. Was I really going to become... that thing?
There was only one part of me that was eager to get up this morning. My cock stood at full attention, bringing to mind some sexually frustrated fantasies during the night that I now struggled to recall any details from. It would be so easy, and so pleasurable, to let it all out right now... But I wasn't going to fall for that again. Not after what happened last time. And not when I had to get ready for work right now. I stretched my arms out above my head, tensed my calf muscles tightly, did a few quick jumping jacks - anything to draw the blood out of that one spot and into the rest of my body, where it belonged.
I didn't feel much better as I dragged myself into the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My face looked perfectly normal at a glance, so much so that I almost missed it. There, sticking out of my upper lip and up along either side of my nose, were a handful of long, skinny, translucent white hairs, each of which stuck out several inches from my skin. Whiskers.
So my idea of ignoring the changes and hoping they'd just go away had completely failed, it was getting harder to deny or even disguise what was happening to me, and I had to be at work in under an hour. I cursed to myself, noticing as I stomped out of the bathroom that I had lost a couple more inches and was now probably less than five feet tall, if I had to guess. But then I remembered something. I pulled open a drawer that I hadn't looked through in a while, and grabbed a long-forgotten face mask that was lying at the bottom. It would have to do.
I wasn't going to risk driving to the office again, not when I suspected I wouldn't even see over the steering wheel by the time my shift ended. I scrounged up a few dollar bills and decided to take the bus instead. That came with its own risks, of course - being seen by more people, one of whom might even recognize me, and the very real possibility that I was going to be treated as an unaccompanied minor if I shrank much smaller than this. I knew most people wouldn't even look up from their phones, but my face still burned with embarrassment for the whole ride.
There was one problem I knew I wouldn't have to worry about today, though - Dirk. I'd seen the employee schedule for the week, I knew he wouldn't be in today. It must have been one of those hunting trips he was always going on with his buddies, because he was out for the rest of the week and wouldn't be back until Monday. The mental image of Dirk going out in the woods to kill some poor defenseless little animals disgusted me - another reason to hate him. That was weird - I'd heard him talking about those monthly trips many times before and never had that sort of visceral reaction to the thought of it.
When I eventually made it to my desk, the anxious feeling I'd had on the bus hadn't gone away one bit. As I sat down uncomfortably in the chair, I realized that my morning wood hadn't gone away, either. My cock twitched, rock-hard and sensitive to every little movement, as I logged into the computer and opened an Excel window. I spent the next couple hours just staring at that blank grid of cells, unable to focus on anything other than the feeling down below. It took every ounce of concentration I had to keep my hands on the keyboard, and resist the temptation to reach down into my underwear.
Honestly, looking back, I don't know how I managed it. I could've just snuck off to the restroom at any point that day and relieved the pressure immediately. But I knew that would be asking for trouble. What if I started growing fur right then and there? So instead, I just sat there, trying to hold perfectly still as my gradually shrinking body shifted involuntarily in my seat, and getting absolutely no work done. And not even enjoying it, either, like the coworkers of mine who seemed to always be playing Minesweeper whenever I glanced at their screens.
Having to sit there for eight nerve-wracking hours was practically torture. Every time I felt a pang of temptation that told me maybe I could get away with it, that maybe no one would notice if I quietly slipped my hand down into my underwear, there was a slight rustling noise from behind that startled me out of it. Then I would jerk my head backward and find that the sound came from somebody turning over a piece of paper halfway across the room. My hearing was so much more sensitive than usual, and the tiniest unexpected noise had me so frightened that I was ready to bolt. I felt at the sides of my head, thinking that my ears must be starting to change. Maybe they were getting a little bit bigger, a little more elongated, but it was hard to tell without a mirror.
Five o'clock couldn't have come soon enough. I found it hard to care about what my coworkers would think as I hopped out of my seat and ran down the hallway out of the building. I just had to get home - there wasn't much room in my mind for anything else. The cool spring air was chilly against my skin as I sprinted away from the office, and I found myself wishing I had brought along a warm coat. Suddenly I realized that I was heading in the opposite direction from the bus stop - without even stopping to think about it, I had just started heading directly towards home, as if I was going to make it the whole way there on foot.
But then a thought occurred to me that had never crossed my mind before - why not? It was only a few miles, and I knew the route well. Plus, I was full of nervous, pulsating energy that was just begging to be burned off. And it was exhilarating, the way my feet slapped against the pavement, itching to get out of those ill-fitting shoes. The way the wind whistled through my...
I looked down at myself. That white fuzzy stuff was creeping back across my hands again. I knew it had to be doing the same thing all over my body, as my sweat-drenched business outfit chafed against my skin. I fully understood now that I was growing fur, and I couldn't help but be grateful for it right now. It was keeping me warm on this cold evening, and I appreciated it more and more as the sun gradually set. And it started to come in thicker and fluffier, just when I needed it. I was getting that coat I wanted after all.
As my house came into view, I was amazed. I had practically sprinted all that way, and I didn't even feel winded. I couldn't say that I didn't break a sweat, because my clothing had already been sticky with perspiration before I even left the office. It was impossible to tell how much of that was from my run just now and how much I'd sweat out when I was just sitting at my desk hoping no one would notice me. But I was sure I could keep running all night, and it felt incredible.
It was only when I got to the door that reality came crashing down again in my face. I fished my keys out of my pocket and suddenly realized that the lock was a lot higher up than it should have been. I couldn't have been more than four feet tall. My clothes had only hung on because of momentum and the sweat that pasted them in place. And now that I was standing still, fumbling to get the door open from down here, they started to droop and hang off of me.
I was caught between two completely opposite mindsets. One of them told me that I should be excited by this, and I was starting to think that it made sense. It wasn't just that the changes felt good - I could tell that there was an intense, apparently superhuman energy that was pushing its way through my body. My senses were heightened, my reflexes were clearly faster - I knew right away how disappointing it would feel to just go back to normal after getting a taste of... whatever this was.
But those lightning-quick reflexes were also turning me into a paranoid freak, expecting a threat around every corner, listening intently for the slightest hint of danger. And for good reason. I couldn't let anybody find out what was happening to me, that much was for sure. I just couldn't. My face burned at the thought of it. I mean, how was I going to explain it to someone else when I barely even understood it myself? And going to the hospital was out of the question - this was clearly beyond the bounds of medical science. What was I supposed to say? "Hi, Doc, I seem to be turning into some sort of fluff-covered monster. Wanna see how furry my crotch is?"
I would have done anything to make this all just go away. To go right back to my ordinary human life, no matter how boring it would now seem by comparison. But I knew I had no control over that. At best, I could resist the changes and slow them down a little bit, or give in and let them accelerate. If I could just will myself to stop it... it all would have stopped well before I got to this point. And my resistance was wearing seriously thin now. As soon as I stopped running, the hot and energetic blood that had been pumping through all my veins dropped down and started pooling in a throbbing, painful erection that reminded me why I'd been so frazzled in the first place.
As soon as I got inside, I peeled off my giant, wrinkly clothes and dumped them in the hallway, not looking back as I stumbled out of my ill-fitting socks and suddenly realized that I must have lost my shoes somewhere along the way. And the socks were full of holes, clearly from scraping against the pavement for all that time. How had I not noticed that I was basically running barefoot? One look at my feet, as the dirty gray fabric fell away from them, told me how. I didn't have bare feet anymore - I was walking on fuzzy little paws instead! They looked small and delicate on the outside, but I could feel what those tufts of white fur were hiding underneath: strings of lean but powerful muscle, coiled up and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Perfectly built to sprint for any distance.
As much as I was tempted to either admire or gawk in horror at my new anatomy, or maybe both at the same time, another part of that anatomy was screaming at me for release. I promptly headed down the stairs and wandered into the unfinished half-bathroom in the basement. Come to think of it, I wasn't exactly sure why I immediately made a beeline for there, instead of just using the one next to the bedroom. Maybe it was the seclusion down there, the hope that my neighbors wouldn't hear anything I was about to do. Maybe, on some subconscious level, I was still convinced that I could hide all of this away - leave my changes downstairs, and come back up to find that everything was normal again. But I think I just felt safer down there. Like hiding myself underground would make me less vulnerable to potential... predators?
I closed the bathroom door behind myself and looked up. There, just below the ceiling, was a tiny window, this room's only opening to the outside world. It poked up just enough above the grass of the backyard that I could see the darkening evening sky, and the bright full moon that was hanging there in it. It gave me just enough light that I didn't have to pull the fraying cord that hung from the ceiling, to use an old lightbulb that would probably blow out the moment I tried to turn it on. Good thing, too - I wasn't sure I could reach up and grab that cord anymore.
I squatted down in the corner and plopped my naked, increasingly fuzzy butt down on the bare concrete floor. A sudden jolt of pain made me jump back up onto my paws and look back behind myself. I'd sat on my tail. I had a tail! And of course it had to look just like a big puffy cotton ball. As if there was any room left for doubt about exactly what was happening to me. A rabbit. Of all things, why did it have to be a rabbit? I mean, not that I would have been any happier about turning into some other type of animal, but... Was this really happening to me just because Easter was coming up?
I sat back down again, this time leaning forward. That kept my tail out of the way, but my cock hit the floor with another jolt - and this time, it made me shudder with pleasure instead of pain. My erect penis was one of the few parts of me that wasn't covered in fur by now, but that wasn't because it was still remaining human. I grasped its bright red length, which looked to me more like a tongue than a dick, with one of my increasingly paw-like hands. The slightest touch was enough to make me flinch, my whole body seizing up in anticipation, my lips barely holding back a loud moan from escaping. This was the moment I'd been waiting all day for. And now there was nothing standing in my way. I had all the privacy I could ask for, and all the time in the world.
I don't know how long I was sitting there, my mind blissfully empty of everything except how to stroke my cock faster and harder. But it must have been a while, because the last remnants of daylight were fading from the window, the full moon only glowing brighter in its place. That was what I noticed when I looked up, flinching when I heard the sound of something moving on the ground above me. My sensitive ears swiveled on top of my head, while my hands kept absent-mindedly working on my painfully hard erection. Under the yellow circle of the moon, I could just barely make out a faint shadow creeping past, rustling the grass as it sniffed around my backyard.
Then I saw it - a pair of eyes glinting in the darkness, suddenly pressed up against my window. Something was staring at me, even more intently than I was staring at it. And it was right at that moment that it made eye contact - that was when I lost control. A fire hose of cum shot straight across the cramped little bathroom, squirting into a puddle of white that formed at the base of the toilet. I staggered backward, my fur-covered back slamming against the wall as I gasped for air like a dying fish. And before I could recover from all the energy I'd just spent, before I could even start to get to my feet, I heard the window above me rattling, as the thing staring at me was trying to get in.