Mark woke up on the floor. Only, it wasn't particularly Mark anymore.
'Oh, it's gone, it's all gone!' he thought, without knowing why.
There were thoughts in his head. Strange thoughts that did not belong to him. Girls' thoughts.
'Whose are you?', he asked them.
'The Fox-Girl's', they seemed to reply.
And suddenly they swirled into his thoughts, and he realized that they might be strange, but separate, oh no, not at all. They were mixing with his consciousness, sifting in-between his thoughts, and suddenly Mark realized that his mind was changing into a girl's.
'AAAAAAHHHHH!!! NO!!' he screamed at them, and fought. Oh, he fought as hard as he could, but somehow the thoughts just got around his defenses like water sliding through a filter. Thoughts, unwelcome understandings were coming through alarmingly, and it seemed that with each one he lost a little more of the assurance that he was a male.
And the worst thing was, the understanding were small, stupid things. How to balance properly with his new body type. What to do about menstruation; how it would feel if something pressed too hard on his breasts. How far he could run without being exhausted. What tasted good to this body. How much she should sleep . . .
'She??' Mark cried out. 'No, no, I'm not!'
But she was, and it was too late to do anything about it. In a horrible, terrifying loss of mental control, Mark found she could no longer think of herself as a man. She had all her old memories still, and understood everything she did before, but she couldn't consider herself what she once was - a man in a fox-girl's body. Now she WAS a fox-girl, officially, albeit one with odd memories, and who perhaps shouldn't have been a fox-girl at all.
Mark threw back her head and screamed.