You were just about to say “Sure!” when you notice someone sitting by the Bar a short distance away. A
stunning, slim, black-haired young woman who appeared to be in her early to mid-20’s, dressed in what appeared
to be just a blue sleeveless dress that came just halfway down her thighs and a pair of high heels that showed
off her feet. Though you couldn’t help but feel that something looked off with her face, and especially her
larger-than-normal-ears, a thought that you pushed aside almost as soon as it came to you. She appeared to be
nursing a near-empty glass of her own, the contents appearing to be the same as what you’d just drunk.
“Yeah, I’ll have another one.” You finally replied to the bartender, before adding, “and one of the same for
her as well.” Pointing to the woman in question.
“Looks like you’re already getting into it, consider it done.” He responded, as you left your seat to join
her, finding it took some effort to walk in shoes that don’t quite right. The bartender handing over the two
glasses just as you sat next to her.
“So?” You try to start some talk. “Why you by yourself?”
“Well that’s isn’t exactly the case now, is it?” She replied to you, with an odd, ever-so-slightly-husky
voice, her golden eyes staring into your own.
“Ah, I guess that’s true.” You answer the obvious point before taking a large swig of you drink.
This idle chat continued for a time, as you and her finished your drinks, and were already on the next ones.
Yet you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something felt off about everything. Maybe it was her face that
seemed to have pushed out, or the pointed ears on the top of her head. It could have been the fact her hair
was turning silver-grey, and had doubled in length from it original shoulder-length, which appeared to
spreading all over her body. Then the answer hit you!
“Shay?” You slurred out, squirming slightly in your too-tight clothes. “What’sh your name?” You hadn’t even
asked that question yet!
“Oh! It’sh Chantelle.” She slurs back, as a button on your shirt tears itself free and flies across the
room, while a sleeve starts to tear itself away from your right shoulder, tufts of greyish fur peeking out of
the opening gap.
As you noticed the lost button, another pooped free, while something moved around inside your pants, which too
were becoming painfully tight on your frame. You motioned for the barkeeper to come, to which he responded
quickly.
“Two more Timberwolfsh.” You slide over the empty glasses, as two more buttons tear away when you turned to
face him. “And shay? What’sh the polishy on nudity here?”
“Well if you don’t wanna wear them clothes, then don’t!” He chuckled as he prepared the drinks. “Don’t see
why you wanna stuff yourself into ‘em anyways.”
Thinking about it for a moment, you realise, “Yeah, can’t shee why either.” As you and Chantelle received
your next drinks, yours on the side as you were busy tugging and tearing your pants, trying to get them off.
Mercifully soon, you managed to get them down the thighs and had a much easier time getting you legs out of
them after that, the shoes and socks having joined them. Though you became aware that the exertion had popped
all the remaining buttons off your shirt bringing your chest into clear view now, just as the right sleeve
tore off the shirt. Grabbing it, you quickly tear the fabric off and discard it with the rest, now able to
turn your attention back to the drink and her.
Chantelle, in turn, had pulled her dress off, and from the looks of things, had been wearing nothing
underneath it, a pair of rich, large, and very firm looking breasts, with barely visible black areolas on
them. This, was causing a stirring between your legs, as a large, red knotted cock began to grow there.
“Sho?” She moaned out, her eyes drifting to it as she drained her glass. “Any plansh for laterr?”
“Not rrreally. You got any?” You answered her.
“Well,” She began as she got off the stool, a click of her heels which she still had on right now, even if
they looked to be a tighter fir than before, a tail swaying from side to side behind her. “We can get a rroom
and ‘get to it’, if you know what I mean.” She spoke as she place a clawed hand on your thigh. “Then again,
we could alwaysh head outshide forr it. Or even jusht to she morre of thish plasih.”
“Well, in that caish…” You began as you decided on what to do next.