The kangaroo begins to hum a gentle lullaby, and your ears perk to listen. Already, you’re beginning to notice subtle changes starting to occur all over your body. Hair begins to grow over your arms and legs from inside the pouch, while your nails begin to turn to a darker color.
She begins to rock back and forth to the rhythm of her song, the rhythm at which you’re suckling the pacifier. Your body is almost completely out of your control. You want to climb out, but you feel so tired; you want to scream, but the pacifier holds itself in place.
The way she scratches the back of your neck is comforting too. Your thoughts and memories are foggy. You begin to remember how your own mother sang you this lullaby, scratching the back of your neck, holding you warm inside her own pouch…
Logic seeps in. Your mother never had a pouch. Humans don’t have such things. You open your eyes to the hairy monster trapping you. She’s already gone into a tranquil state as it is. How long have you been out? It couldn’t have been so long, could it?
Long enough, however. You look at your feet: giant brown powerful paws, with three large toes at the end of each. You begin to panic as they move in response to your wriggling your toes.
Desperate, you begin to pull yourself out of the pouch, screaming through the pacifier gritted in your teeth. Almost instantly, the mother awakens and presses your head down into the dark depths of herself. “Oy!” you hear through your elongated ears, “I can’t go for a moment without having to sing that song to you, can I?” You scream and whine, trying to climb out. You have so many questions to ask. Your mind is flustered with false and real memories combating. You reach out with your arms and pull her paws away from you.
You can hear her loudly singing that same tune, and you begin to suckle in rhythm. So badly you want to yank that piece of plastic out, but it feels like you’ll die without it. Human logic sinks back into mild suggestion, as you feel tired again. The tune is like a hypnotic spell controlling you through the pacifier, yet despite the paranoid realization, you feel no will to stop her.
Until your tail begins to grow, that is…
At first it’s a mild discomfort, but quickly you start to notice it’s pushing you out of the mother roo’s pouch. Your body is growing too big with the tail in part and she begins to find it difficult to concentrate on the song with the sharp pain of your growing inside her.
This is your chance. You press your tail against the walls of her skin and you press yourself out of her. It’s cold and unnatural, much like birth is, but you press on. You grab the edges of her body and pull yourself out, feet first, until you are finally free. She squeals as you yank your head from her and you look to her saddened face.
Fear settles in. You are with a wild animal, and the whole facility is mad as far as you’re concerned. You begin to hop away as fast as you can, the pacifier still hanging in your mouth.
As far as you can tell, you’re not completely transformed. You’re like a half and half mix, your hands still functional with only a slight fur coat over your body.
It’s difficult to tell, though, with all the lights shut down for the night. You hop blindly through the corridors, hearing your former mother’s calls, “Help! My baby’s escaping and he’s not finished changing!!”