This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
---
Eventually, however, it had to happen. She transformed in front of Oliver again.
He dropped his fork and swore at the dinner table, shoving his hair, which had grown a little bit longer, back from his face, semi-styled with some gel that he had found in the little set of drawers in his bathroom. Michelle had complimented him on how he looked earlier but it was a different ball game entirely to see her transforming before him, growling as she hulked out over the table, leaning heavily on it as hair erupted down her arms and the backs of her hands, her shoulders instantly splitting the nice blouse that she had on.
He was not ashamed, well, not all that much, to admit that his eyes went straight to her chest. It was not even about all the extra muscle that Michelle packed on as she transformed, though the minute details were something that he had pored over, again and again, in the recorded video he had of her transforming. No... He liked how her chest looked, even if it was all still very much in proportion with her changed body, as if she had come well and truly into herself, her breasts rising and the nipples showing through her shirt.
"Michelle..." He breathed. "As always...you take my breath away."
She grunted at him, her pupils very slightly dilated, though there was still someone in there. However, that person was no longer the Michelle that he knew so well.
"Not Michelle," she growled, standing up, though her lips quirked in a lopsided smile, so the action was not as threatening or as intimidating as it could have been. "I'm...Shelly. Shelly!"
She shouted the name the second time, slamming her fists down onto the dining table, which was not strong enough to stand up to her. Truth be told, there was little that was reinforced enough to hold her back, but that was not something that either were thinking about at that moment. He gulped hard, pushing down his arousal as the stable split, jagged ends of wood sticking up as it crashed to the floor. It took half-eaten plates of food and the wine glasses along with it too -- though Michelle snatched one up before it had the chance to descend, downing every drop of alcohol left in the glass.
"Mmm... Very good!"
She grinned at him and Oliver swallowed hard, yet again. Yeah, things were getting a bit too hairy for his liking.
"Okay, Michelle, you need to..."
"Not Michelle!" She roared, pounding a fist into the wall, a strike that was too quick for Oliver to even think of trying to stop her as she put a hole in his home. "Shelly! I -- am -- Shelly!"
She enunciated the words clearly, even if her voice was deeper and with a rolling, intoxicating quality to it, as if she was trying to be sultry. Yet in a very "Michelle" sort of way. Damn it, Oliver didn't even know what he was thinking, not even as he held his hands up before her and tried to placate the gorgeous beast that she had become, yet again.
"It's okay...Shelly, everything is okay," he tried, the ape-woman pausing for a moment and looking at him with a more contemplative gleam in her eye. "So... Please step back, relax... Maybe if we do some breathing exercises, you'll revert back to Michelle? But Shelly is good too, I mean! Um..."
"Grrrr..."
She growled, frustration coursing through her. Why didn't the man see that she was Shelly and not Michelle? She didn't need to be Michelle! There was a sense in her of two beings, yet it was not being referred to by her name that did it the most for her. She didn't want to be spoken about as if she was someone else, especially when she had told him that that was her name.
She couldn't find the words, grunting and growling to herself as she stormed from the room, punching the wall, though she took care to make sure that she did not make any ill moves in Oliver's direction. Hurting him was very much not something that she wanted to do, even if he had frustrated her.
Michelle, of course, did not remember transforming into Shelly, as she had named herself, when she found Oliver trying (and failing) to patch up the hole in the wall, covered in mess himself, though that was of his own making that time. She apologised to him and he waved her off with a smile, telling her no apology was necessary. However, she saw that he was slightly shaken up and the guilt gnawed at her. If only she had never used that formula for the vitamin pill, the whole thing would never have happened...
But that was not a healthy line of thought for her to go down and not one that had any sensible end to it either.
So, she worked even harder on the problem, even though Shelly apparently didn't like that all that much. She had to find a way to work in the lab on her own late at night, because Shelly was determined to make an appearance at the worst of times. She transformed in the middle of the lab, thankfully when everyone had gone out to an after-work drinks thing, and smashed it up, her breasts spilling out and her shoulders wrecking her lab coat, that time, beyond any sense of worthwhile repair.
And yet the feeling, after she transformed back, remained one of satisfaction, of feeling like she was doing something that she, quite honestly, needed to do, all while she'd been smashing up test tubes and beakers and all the results and tests that she had been working on. It felt like she was restoring the status quo, in some way, a tiny smile on her lips when she came back around, lying in a cracked pile of lab tables and stools, the legs snapped off all of them.