Dustin tucks his long, thick pecker back into his pants, adjusting it so its altered size doesn't show too much, then takes off his constricting camouflage jacket. Much better! Standing there in his tight olive green tank top and fatigue pants, his muscles continue to bulge, in his chest, arms and thighs, but not enough to damage his clothes.
As he heads back to the truck, though, he suddenly feels the urge to walk on tiptoe. His boots become increasingly uncomfortable, and loosening the laces only adds to his difficulty in walking. His boots start flopping off his heels...
Grimacing, the young soldier limps over to the truck, taking his jacket with him. His buddy Joe has dozed off while reading a map, so doesn't notice his longer and thicker hair, which is now a much darker shade of brown than it used to be. Carefully Dustin reaches into the truck for the water canteen - he's so thirsty! - taking a long, deep swallow of the contents. Re-capping the canteen, he drops it back on the truck seat, along with his jacket.
Abruptly he gets a severe cramp in his feet and lower legs, and gasping, sits on the stony ground beside the truck. The cramp is now accompanied by a weird tingling in his toes, and anxiously he pulls his boots off. His eyes grow wide at what he sees. Though hidden by his thick army socks, it's clear that his toes have widened and thickened considerably, and their alignment has changed too, looking more like a splayed semi-circle of digits than the usual diagonal line. And combined with a strange lengthening of his insteps, neither foot looks a foot at all. Each looks more like a PAW!
As the bones in his feet, ankles and calves continue to shift and stretch, he lies on his back on the stony ground, thrusting his feet up in the air and flexing his altered toes. His socks start to split... and to his amazement he sees what looks like fur poking out through the rips in the well-woven fabric. Thick TAWNY fur. Gritting his teeth, he writhes on the ground as the startling changes continue.
When the cramps and spasms finally abate, Dustin hauls himself upright, using the bed of the truck for support, tugs off his ruined socks, and then feels the bones in his lower legs give a last, twisting jerk, completely changing their orientation! At the same time the legs of his fatigue pants split noisily from ankle to knee.
As he struggles to regain his balance - his heels now high off the ground, his knees bent - razor-sharp claws burst from his four-toed foot-paws (Hey, what's happened to the fifth??!) and dig into the soil to stabilize him. Shocked, he then realizes he can retract and extend these claws at will, just like... just like a CAT can...
Breathing hard, he looks down at his tawny foot-paws, incapable of comprehending what has happened to him. But strangely, he's starting to enjoy it, and he wonders - what else is going to happen?
* * *
Inside the cab of the truck, Joe wakes with a start - his pants packing major wood after a seriously hot dream. 'Good job I woke up,' he thinks, eyeing the huge tent in the crotch of his fatigues, 'Nearly had an 'accidental discharge'!'
Not that he'd have minded. For weeks now no one in his platoon had got within a mile of any 'sexual' action, and the long hours they put in on patrol or base duties meant that by the time he hit the sack he was too tired to whack off even. If he'd shot a big load in his shorts just now, it would have been a freakin' godsend!
Rubbing a hand over his dry lips, he automatically reaches for the canteen that Dustin has dropped on the adjacent seat. As he slakes his thirst, the bulge in his pants gradually subsiding, he notices Dustin's jacket and wonders where his buddy has got to. "Probably taking a dump or something," he eventually concludes, tossing the canteen back on the seat. "Hope he don't sit on a scorpion!"
Blinking his eyes a couple of times to sharpen their focus, he goes back to perusing the map...