Fur Better Or Worse

            I couldn't believe it. Yet, there it was, the fur jacket that once belonged to my horrible stepmother. I never saw her without it, and I remember her always rubbing her manicured hands on the fur. She treated that fur jacket better than she treated me. When my dad first met her, she was wearing that jacket. He fell hard and fast for her. Every date they went on, she wore that fur jacket. She once said that the fur was fake, but I didn't believe a thing out of her lying mouth. Then, they got married, and my life went in the toilet.

            With every chance she got, she ordered me around. I was treated more like a servant than a child. It left me disheartened that my dad was too blinded by love to see this homewrecking harpy for what she was, pure evil with an hourglass body and thick thighs. I tried to hide my enthusiasm when my dad and I learned that she was killed in a traffic accident. She couldn't be buried with the jacket, so we were stuck with it.

            I had my own plans for the jacket, but I made the mistake of telling a friend and confidant about it first. She never knew what it was like to wear a fur jacket. If only I realized sooner that she was more impressionable than I thought.

            "What's so bad about it?" She asked me. "Seems harmless. You'd think that this was the source of your stepmom's power over you."

            I honestly thought that the fur jacket was the source of her power, given that she wore it everywhere she went. She seemed inseparable from it. She even wore it when out grocery shopping. Meanwhile, I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn't notice my friend trying on the fur.

            My friend called out for me and blurted out, "Before you do anything, I'm going to wear this around for a while, just to know what it's like."

            What upset me was not that she said it, but that she said it with authority, that she was telling me, not asking me. I wanted to tell her off but before I could, she took off with the jacket. I hadn't seen her since. All this time, I thought she would eventually return it or, at the very least, call me so I can take it back. Instead, I saw an absolute doppelgänger of my dead ex-stepmother before me, clad in only the jacket, lingerie, and stilettos.

             "Surprised?" She asked me. Her voice sounded so weird. It was a distorted mixture of hers and my friend's. "I suppose you thought that I was some ordinary fur jacket, didn't you? Well, your friend was easily surprised when she discovered my power for herself. If only you were here to see how easily she was swayed. As soon as she rubbed her plump fingers on me, she saw what I was capable of as those fingers became thinner and manicured. The rest of her physical transformation would quickly follow. Then, once she got a good look at her--OUR new body, she realized what your departed stepmother had learned long ago, that I could not only change her body but give her power over others. Now, I doubt she will remove me voluntarily, even for you. She and I are one, dare I say it, fur better or worse."

            I stood there, dumbfounded, as the fur jacket with seemingly a life of its own and the person that wore it laughed at my expense. It never occurred to me that this thing of fashion had sentience, let alone the power to change a person's body. Nobody but my friend and I knew what this thing was capable of, and nobody would believe it. I was at a loss for words as this abomination took control of someone I trusted and got away with it, like she--it said, fur better or worse.

Caught In The Storm

            What kind of storm did we have last night? I don't think I've ever seen red lightning before. Like an idiot, I didn't think there would be rain when I saw dark clouds in the sky, so I didn't bring an umbrella with me to work. The thunderstorm had started not long before I punched out. I had to run for my car to keep from getting completely soaked. As if getting caught in the storm wasn't enough, what I saw on the way home was beyond belief.

            The pouring rain looked red in color. Red rain drops? That sort of thing could only happen in science fiction, and yet, here it was. Red rain drops, red lightning bolts, everything was red. Even the stains on my dress shirt were red. I was never happier when I finally got home. Of course, I got soaked again running to the front door. After taking off all my wet clothes, I went on with my day, thinking nothing would come from getting drenched in red rain. If only I knew then what I know now.

            Last night would be the last night I spent as a man. I was jolted awake by agonizing pain all over my body. It was like I was being punctured by several little needles. I could feel my skin bubbling all over. I flipped over in my bed as I actually felt my spine compressing, making me feel shorter. From my peripherals, I noticed my hands shrinking, while my trimmed fingernails actually grew longer in just seconds, looking like a bird's claws. I screamed out as bones moved around in my back, which then caved inward. The fat around my waist suddenly melted away. Then, I felt my hip bones move crack outward. Flipping back around, I noticed some hair in my face. Apparently, my hair was also growing abnormally fast, though not as fast as the pair of mounds growing on my chest. There was some more unbearable pain from below as I actually felt my "machinery" shrinking and receding inside of me. I could actually feel it turning into a woman's "machinery". Officially, I was no longer male.

            At last, after what felt like forever, it was all over. I could breathe again, but I didn't hear my own voice anymore. A woman's voice came out of me. I held my hand to my throat. There was no lump there. My legs felt numb as I hobbled very slowly to my bathroom. As I finally reached the mirror, I saw a young and very busty girl looking back at me. I was too weak to scream. All I could do was stare at my reflection and feel myself all over. That was when everything went dark.

            This is who I am now; Although, I still see bits and pieces of my previous life in my dreams, sometimes. As a man, I was a pencil-pusher in a cubicle. Now, I get money as a social media favorite and influence. Not only that, I get to parade around in a bikini all I want. Nobody seems to notice or care about his "absence". Nevertheless, one thing still bothers me: What kind of storm did we have last night?

Return of the Cougar Heels

              Remember "Cougar Heels"? Well, they never really left. But remember that they turn anyone into a well-endowed, lust-crazed cougar, regardless of gender? That certainly hasn't changed. One young blonde will learn this for herself very soon.

              She was out shopping when a pair of "Cougar Heels" caught her eye. The woman, who had just graduated from college, went wide-eyed at the sight of the stylish--and seemingly innocent--pumps. On her, they were sure to attract a lot of boys, while making other girls jealous. She wasted no time in paying for them and taking them straight home to try on. Once home, the first thing she did was drop everything else she bought on her shopping spree, just so she could focus on her new "Cougar Heels". To her enjoyment, they fit her perfectly, but she unknowingly sealed her fate.

             The very next day, she wore the heels while out with two friends, one raven-haired and the other a redhead, shooting the breeze. They were eyeing men the men around them at the local mall they frequented. This would be where the first of her changes would take place. As a pair of boys, much younger than any of the trio, walked by, the blonde found herself staring longingly at them, subconsciously fantasizing of her sucking off one boy while humping the other. It wasn't until one of her gal pals snapped her fingers in her face that she realized what she was doing.

             "Hey. You all right?" Asked the raven-haired one.

             "Wha--?" The blonde was still in a daze from being lost in her fantasy.

             "You totally zoned out on us. What were you looking at, anyway?"

             "Uh...A...cute purse." She lied. "Some girl was carrying a cute purse with 'Hello Kitty' on it."

             "Aren't you a little too old to still be into Hello Kitty?" Asked the redhead, sardonic in her tone.

             "You are NEVER too old for Hello Kitty!" She retorted, trying to save face.

             Her pals just looked on, dumbfounded by her sudden, strange actions. The truth was that she couldn't explain it because she didn't know how it happened. She just turned to look at them and suddenly, thoughts of sex popped into her mind. It couldn't have been lack of sleep. The smartest thing she could do was act like it was nothing. Still, she wouldn't be able to "explain it away" much longer.

             The days go by and the young blonde's changes would get stranger and stranger still. Her next changes in the form of thicker thighs. She had trouble with putting her jeans on, unable to get them past her thighs, which she never realized were gradually getting bigger in size. At times, she even ripped a few pairs. She mistakenly thought she was getting fat when that was not the case. Though her thighs wouldn't be the only part of her getting bigger.

             Some more days passed, and she eventually noticed her breasts looked bigger in size. With every day, it seemed that her chest grew a couple of inches. She stretched out some of her shirts trying to make them fit. There were even some moments where they grew bigger out of the blue, not that she ever saw it happen. By the time they stopped growing, they were humongous. Anyone could say that they were fake or full of plastic, but they were all natural. The "Cougar Heels", however, were not done changing their owner.

            During that time, she started to think less of her future and more about sex and her appearance. Just the thought of having her way with a younger man seemed to make her...moist. Yet, she couldn't help herself. It was the power of the heels, and it was potent. Eventually, her nails, which had become talon-like, were not enough to satisfy her carnal needs. She needed a man, and she needed one now.

            A phone call to the neighbor next door, and the young lad came over in minutes. She told the boy a fib that she needed help gardening. In reality, she wanted to be planted herself. She knew he was into women with big breasts, and she used this weakness to her advantage. As the lad entered her bedroom, he came across her in a form-fitting robe. She made no attempt to hide her huge cleavage. The boy was immediately mesmerized.

            His manhood slowly began to harden. At the sight of this, the busty being undid the knot holding her robe. His eyes went wide at the sight of her hourglass figure. Sans those heels, she was stark naked. To him, however, she was flawless, from her breasts to her wide hips, and when she turned around to give him a good look at her derriere, he came close to drooling. She slowly sauntered over to her wide bed and lay down.

            In a mesmerizing, husky voice, she said, "Well, aren't you coming over?"

            The boy became hard right then and there. Once she was all over him, he was in heaven. Some neighbors complained of several loud, feminine moans and a woman's screams of pleasure coming from the house. To the woman making all that noise, their complaints meant nothing. What she wanted was all that mattered, and she wanted sex. It also didn't matter where she got it from, as long as the male partner was younger than her. It was the potent power of the "Cougar Heels".