Jeff grinned. He was in the old mansion, that he and his pop called home, behind the taxidermy shoppe. Originally, the shoppe had been the stables for the mansion. But times changed, and the highway widened, and his pop had inherited the old place from a distant cousin. He'd renovated the old antebellum estate, and made good money selling his taxidermy services to hunters, collectors and pet owners. Jeff had been amazed at how many people had their pets preserved. It was paying for his college education, which was on break for the winter holidays.
Everything was perfect. The fire was roaring in the fireplace, Jeff loved how the light reflected off the white tigerskin's blue glass eyes. The soft orange flames cast an orange glow on the rug and room. He'd turned out the lights, and drawn the shades. Jeff stood naked sipping some of the wine he'd poured for him and Cyndy. He looked at the clock, Only twenty minutes until she'll be here, he thought. He clicked his tongue in anticipation, and reached for the green bottle. He liberally applied the cologne to his hot sweaty naked body: on his back, chest, crotch, underarms, butt crack, and even the hair on his head. Cyndy could be very affectionate, her nose and lips would be all over his body, and he wanted it to smell good. The fire sure was hot.
Jeff was about to sit down on the tigerskin, when the phone rang. It was Cyndy, her grandmother had fallen, and was at the hospital. She couldn't make it tonight. Cyndy was driving 300 miles with her parents to the hospital right then. She'd called from her cell phone. Jeff said he understood, and tried to sound sympathetic, but he was pissed. He'd gotten all horned up waiting for tonight, now it wasn't going to happen. He hung up, and downed both glasses of wine. He refilled one glass, and then plunked himself down on the rug in front of the fire. No use wasting good wine or a roaring fire. He started to jack off.
As he lay there, his backside started to feel hot, he was sweaty all over. So he rolled over on his front side, and stared into the flames. The tiger fur felt great against his bare skin. He sipped his wine. Soon it was empty.
Jeff attempted to stand, he was getting buzzed. His sharp nails grazed his hard stomach as he steadied himself with his hand on the side table where he set his empty glass. His feet felt funny, like the bones were shifting under his skin, and the tops of his feet tingled. He looked down to see his feet reshaping into animal paws. He flexed his toes, and razor sharp claws popped out and retracted. A fine dusting of white fur covered his feet. THE COLOGNE! Jeff thought, that's why his pop had told him not to use it.
No longer able to keep his balance on his shifting feet, Jeff relied more on the table for support, it couldn't hold his weight. The table toppled, Jeff fell forward onto the tiger rug, and stuffed eagle that had been on the table came crashing down on Jeff's back. Jeff struggled to right the table, and set his pop's bird back on it. A few feathers lay on the rug. Jeff stood on his knees and struggled to reinsert the feathers in the bird. He looked down and saw that the changes and white fur were progressing up his body. His circumsized penis and ball sac were now covered with a fur skin. The reddish pink tip peeking out seemed to be shaped more like a rocket that a mushroom. Jeff reached down to touch it, waves of orgasm swept through his body, he had never been this sensitive before, it had to be the transformation. He sighed, and grabbed the half filled wine bottle. He was so thirsty and horny. Four inches of his new reshaped rod extended from his white furry pouch, and seemed to be growing longer. The fur had grown up passed his belly button. Jeff drank the rest of the bottle in one big gulp.
The wine, the fire, and the transformation conspired to overload Jeff's senses. He passed out in front of the fire.
When he awoke, Jeff's head ached. What a nightmare! He brought his hand up to his forehead, and sighed. He blinked and stared at the white tiger's paw touching his face. I must have gotten my arm caught up in the rug, he thought, but the claws at the end of paw wiggled. It was his hand! It was his paw!
Jeff bolted upright from the floor to a standing position. Parts of him brushed against the sofa and table, sending pain through his shoulders. The table and sofa had to be at least five or six feet apart with the tigerskin lying between them. Jeff blinked and flexed his shoulders. There was a gust of wind, the fire flickered, flared and smoked in the sudden breeze. All the windows were closed. Jeff looked up into the old mirror over the mantle. A white tiger's head and shoulders stared back, and the tops of two great eagle wings could be seen just over the tiger's black and white striped shoulders. The tiger's jaw dropped revealing a row sharp white fangs, and deep pink tongue.
Jeff had become a winged tigerman!