Kinktober Day Twenty-Five: Transformation

Story by KarlyCommissions on SoFurry

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#21 of Kinktober 2018

A man finds himself bored with his monotonous life, and decides to explore and Adventure Room. The result will change everything.

--

For Catprog


You are absolutely exhausted. You spent the day in your regular routine... but that regular routine was honestly becoming so monotonous and so blase that you were tired just from thinking about it. It was the same, day in and day out.

You woke, you made a healthy breakfast. You did a quick few miles of jogging before coming home, showering, and then heading to work. At work, you grab a salad for lunch, and then you hit the gym again before coming home... you make another healthy dinner, and then you settle in for the night to relax until you go to bed before eleven, just so you can wake up and do it all again the next day.

It was how a normal adult functioned, as far as you knew. You have an apartment, and you pay for it with the income from your corporate job... you paid for all of your necessities with ease, and even splurged occasionally on something fun, like a new console, or the latest game to come out.

But... there wasn't really any passion for anything that you did. You function perfectly well in the adult world; you're successful, but does that really mean that your life is a success, if you aren't enjoying it?

It was that thought that had you watching infomercials late at night... and those infomercials that led you to where you were now; it was strange... a mostly empty room, though there are plenty of little cabinets nestled onto the wall. You'd seen the advertisement about the 'adventure room', and something about it had drawn you to it. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't really had any adventure in quite some time...

Maybe it was the soft female voice that had promised you that your life would be changed, forever, if you were brave enough to step into the Adventure Room.

Whatever it was, the allure was too much for you to withstand; you'd dumped your usual end of the month fun money for this month as well as what you'd saved over the past few months and booked yourself a ticket...

And now...

Here you were, in a mostly empty room, looking around with a small, sinking feeling that you'd been taken for a fool.

"Damn it." The words flit from your throat in a low growl of frustration. The little cabinets in front of you aren't that interesting -- there isn't any real adventure here. It isn't as though they're large enough that they could be doors. With a sigh, you turn back to the door behind you, fully intent on complaining to the receptionist who had taken your ticket with a lovely smile...

But the door is locked.

Your heart rate picks up of its own volition, your tongue suddenly feeling sticky in your dry mouth -- what was going on? You tried to knob again, as though trying to convince yourself that you'd just momentarily forgotten the proper mechanics of opening a door...

That isn't the case though. It's still stuck.

You're still stuck.

You turn, and your eyes sweep around the room. Maybe this is an adventure after all. You aren't sure if you're angry, frightened, or excited; it's some conglomeration of the three that has your blood pulsing in your veins and your adrenaline rushing. You stride forward without thinking and pull open the first cabinet that you come to; what is inside draws you up short.

It's a cloak. At first, you aren't sure what you're looking at, because you've never seen a cloak that has extra legs spilling off of it, and two extra heads spilling from the shoulders. But your fingers seize the fabric and you pull it from the cabinet... and sure enough, the fabric folds down around your legs... it is a cloak.

It's just a very, very strange cloak.

The black, silken material is soft under your fingers, though the hairs are short and a different texture than anything you've felt before -- the heads are canine in nature. You have to imagine that it's some kind of animal that you've never seen before, never touched. The softness of it seems far too real to be synthetic, but you've never seen a dog that looks anything like this.

You aren't sure what you're looking at.

Your eyes dart around the room -- there could still be answer elsewhere. There are a dozen other cabinets around you, after all, and you aren't sure how a piece of fabric is supposed to help you to get the door open... but somehow, you're drawn to the softness. Your fingers stroke it over and over again, until you find yourself compelled to hold it up in front of you again, to examine each and every inch of it until you know that you're going to put it on.

You know that you can't resist seeing how it feels, secures around your shoulders. It has a weight to it that tells you it isn't a cheap thing, it isn't something that was poorly made as a gag.

No, this is something special, and you don't want to spend the rest of your left regretting the fact that you simply tucked it away and never tried it on. Besides, you reason with yourself logically, maybe it has pockets that you can search through to find a key -- maybe there's a note.

Maybe there is some kind of answer beneath the exotic hair that you haven't thought about; the only way to be sure is to put the cloak on and thoroughly check it.

It sounds logical in your head -- enough so that you don't hesitate. You bring the heavy material around your body in a flourish and slide it over your shoulders, fastening it securely with the red pendant that stretched around its neck, almost like a collar to reel in the two heads that spill from the sides. With yours sticking from the middle, it almost feels complete. It certainly feels like a warm weight that pours through your body.

It feels...

Right.

And then there is something more than it feeling right -- your body starts to warm; it's a pleasant sensation at first, but it soon turns into a flush that feels almost feverish. Your hands come to the fasten at your throat, your fingers trying to prise open the collar... but, much like the rattling knob that sealed you into this room, to begin with, you seem to have forgotten how to undo a clasp. You can't get it off from around your neck.

Panic is a subtle thing that runs through your body and threatens to set in. You almost let it -- your beating, thundering heart almost fills your ears with the rushing sound of your blood, and your breath almost catches in your chest. But you can't let that happen, or you know you won't find a solution at all. Instead, you close your eyes and try to calm yourself -- you close your eyes and try to allow yourself to breathe.

To think.

To come up with a solution.

However, when you raise your arms to run your fingers through your short hair, you are met with barriers on either side of your head. You don't know what it is at first, and your fingers grope blindly... only to feel soft fur.

Only to feel pointed ears.

Only to feel wet, warm breath of the heads that were laying lifelessly on your shoulders only moments prior, now standing at alert attention with bones that couldn't have possibly been hidden before.

It's impossible, but that impossibility faces you with a low, vicious growl. You fingers go to tear the cloak from your body -- it doesn't matter if you have to rip it! - but you can't seem to find the seams to the heavy fabric.

You grope along your arms for some way to release it, but it's almost like it isn't there anymore... though you can still feel the soft fur... but that fur is on your arms. On your chest.

That fur is a part of your body. You can feel your fingers brushing through it, skimming at your skin beneath.

Something is very, very wrong.

A low groan pours from your chest and you double over as a mixture of stretching pain and pleasure rips through your frame. It's so right and so wrong all at once and even though you know that what is happening isn't natural... you aren't sure that you want to stop it.

Of course, you're quite certain that even if you did, you wouldn't be able to.

You drop to all fours without being able to stop yourself, and you can feel your breath coming in sharp gasps; your entire body is changing -- bones are elongating, your chest is spilling outward... and odder than that, you can feel that you are growing breasts... a low groan pours from your throat and you close your eyes and give in to the shuddering that seems to rip through your entire body.

You try to curl in on yourself -- your hands come to wrap around your torso and you attempt to stand... only to find that your lower body isn't cooperating. Where there should have been two legs, you see four -- and yet your arms are still there. Your eyes widen; you were trying not to look, but now you can't stop it as you feel your spine elongating and stretching out in a way that is completely inhuman, completely wrong.

And yet it does it, and when you twist your head to see why... you realize that your lower half is now in the shape of a canine, the legs and broad back covered by that smooth, black fur that covered the cloak that you put over your body; somewhere in the back of your mind, you understand what is happening... somehow, you're changing based on what outfit you put on. You can feel it in each moment that your muscles pull, in each moment that your toes crimp and cramp, turning from feet into paws...

And you can feel it as your cock disappears -- your hands spill instantly between your legs, but you don't have to touch it to know that you aren't a man anymore. The breasts falling heavy from your chest are evidence enough of that.

No. You're a female.

Your hands explore your upper body now -- it is still shifting and changing; your lower half seems to have stabilized first, though that aching pull is still occurring along your spine as a tail erupts just above your ass. The same dark hair is spilling completely over your upper body, and you can feel your ears spilling up, pointing just like the heads that are alive on either side of your neck. Your hands come to cover your mouth, to hold in the low growling moan that pulses and then escapes there... but you can't do anything to stop it.

You can't stop any of this as the transformation completely rides over you until finally, dizzy and aching... you know that it is complete.

Only then do you hear a loud click as the door unlocks... and only then does a mirror drop down from a slot in the ceiling. You step forward with an unsteady strut -- walking on four legs isn't something that you're used to, after all. Still, your eyes quickly adjust... all six of them, as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

It's like something out of mythos. You are a three-headed dog, but you aren't simply a canine. Your body is shaped like a taur, with a taut torso and full breasts spilling from your chest. You aren't human -- you aren't male.

You are a female Cerberus, a three-headed dog, and a taur to boot.

Adventure... the word is ringing in your mind... and though you feel fear and terror, there's another emotion backing in your mind.

Excitement.

Nothing is going to be the same.