Cat Scratch Fever

I owe this story to a waitress at my favorite restaurant. Melanie and I were chatting. I complimented her, telling her how beautiful she was. "Guys have no idea how hard it is to be this hot," was her response. We laughed, and an idea was born.

All standard caveats apply. Everyone is over 18. While I used Melanie's name, none of the characters are real. Enjoy and please leave me a comment.

***

"And stop feeding that damned cat." My uncle Vic shouted as I tossed my filthy apron in the laundry bin and took my sandwich upstairs.

It had started as a summer thing; me living with my uncle Vic and helping in his little diner just off the beach. I lived in a little efficiency hanging on the back of the restaurant. My little porch was just big enough for a single chair and a small dish I put leftovers in for a small black cat with a white streak across its left ear that had adopted me.

I just called her Cat. No idea if it was male for female, but I never saw kittens, so she was either male or someone had fixed her. I always thought of cats as being for girls, so I chose 'she.' Sure, it was sexist, I guess, but she's a fricking cat.

I think she had belonged to a family that came to the beach one weekend and either got left behind or lost. However Cat got here, she kept me company sometimes. When it rained, I let her come inside. I just didn't tell my uncle.

It was a holiday weekend. Who cares which one? Everybody was at the beach, and that meant we had a line out the door. I bussed tables and washed dishes and today, had been doing it for fourteen hours straight. I was exhausted.

Sitting in my chair, picking at my sandwich, I was feeding Cat pieces as I looked out at the stars over the ocean. I was trying to remember the good times, the times before I came to live here permanently, the time before that drunk driver killed my parents.

I loved Vic. He was a good man. It was just that his life was this diner, and mine was taking a few classes at the community college and washing his dishes. I didn't have time or money for much else.

In my off time, I'd go to the beach when I could and hang out and people watch, but I was too small for volleyball, and didn't really have the physique for it, anyway. I'd try not to get caught ogling the girls in their skimpy bikinis as they soaked up the sun, and I'd hunt for shells and sand dollars. Mostly, I'd just fantasize about a life I didn't have.

I saw a shooting star out over the water and picked Cat up. "What would you wish for, huh?" I scratched her behind the ears. "What would you wish for?" She mewed and nestled in my lap. I laughed and watched as Vic walked the two closing waitresses out to their cars. Damn, they had it made. Their lives were so easy. They only worked three or four days a week, maybe five hours a shift, and made a ton more than me. They always wore new clothes and drove nice cars. "Fuck, why can't I be one of them? My life would be so different. Damn, I wish I was a pretty girl." I laughed out loud. I was talking to myself, and idle wish to no one in particular. Just a random thought.

"Reowr." Cat screeched, scratching my arm like I'd hurt her, jumped out of my lap and ran off into the night.

"Fuck!" I dropped my sandwich. Picking up what I could, I went inside to clean up the blood oozing from the scratch on my arm. I brought it to my mouth and sucked it clean. I don't know why. My mouth was probably the last thing I should put on a cat scratch.

"What was that about?" Vic found me digging through the first aid kit in the back of the kitchen.

"Go ahead. Say it. You warned me." I laughed and showed him the scratch. He helped me clean it and put a bandage on it.

"Damned cat." He smiled at me. I could feel it coming. "I told you so." We both laughed. Thank god tomorrow was Monday, all I had was my classes. The diner was closed. I went back upstairs and climbed into bed and passed out.

My alarm went off, and I felt like I hadn't slept at all. Half awake, I grabbed my jeans and a T-shirt and pulled them on, digging some 'sort of' clean socks out from under my bed and putting them on with my sneakers. Pretending to brush my teeth, I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs to steal a piece of toast and a slice of bacon or something from Vic. He always made himself breakfast and usually made enough for me to grab something on my way out the door.

"You, ok? It didn't sound like you slept very well last night?" He didn't even look up from the prep work he was doing.

"Yeah, I guess. Just feel kind of funky. See you after class." I bolted out the door and got on my scooter to head to class.

"Let me get that for you." Some guy I'd never seen before practically jumped over another guy to open a door for me.

"Um, yeah. Thanks." I shuffled through the door and straight into my history class, taking my preferred seat in the back row and digging my notebook out of my pack. Why didn't I pour myself a cup of coffee before I left? I felt like shit.

"Test Friday." Professor Walker shouted when the bell sounded. I barely remembered anything from the last hour.

Ducking into the men's room to splash some water on my face, I set my pack on the floor and turned on the water.

"Aren't you in the wrong place?" Some guy called out.

I looked around for the girl that had made a wrong turn. There was just him and me. Confused as hell, I turned and looked back in the mirror. It was my face, but it wasn't. Softer somehow, rounder, my eyebrows higher, my eyes bigger, and fuck me, my nipples were sticking out through my T-shirt. They weren't huge, but anyone could see I had fucking tits, and this shirt wasn't one anyone with tits should wear without a bra.

I blinked and looked again. Nothing changed. I splashed water on my face. Still the same. I grabbed my pack and locked myself in the only stall.

"Hey stupid. This is the fucking men's room."

Slowly, tentatively, nervously, I undid my jeans and slid them down my legs. I closed my eyes, like it was going to change anything, and ran my hand down my stomach, praying, hoping that what I knew to be true wasn't.

I wasn't huge, but I didn't consider myself small either. Proportional to my size. That's what I told the few people that had seen me naked, ok, the one girl that had seen me naked.

It didn't matter. It was gone. In its place a soft patch of fuzz, and behind that a slit. My finger slipped inside. I could feel it getting wet. I pulled my finger out and smelled it, recognizing it from that one girl I'd been with. Fuck. I plopped down on the seat. God dammit, whoever was in here last left the fucking seat up.

"Serves you right, stupid bitch." The guy waiting for the stall laughed at me.

"At least get me some towels, please. It was an emergency."

A moment later, a hand appeared under the wall of the stall with a fistful of paper towels.

"Thanks." I couldn't look at him as I scurried out of the bathroom, almost forgetting my backpack.

I didn't know what else to do, so I just went to my English class. After that, I found a girls' restroom and took a long look at myself, now that the initial shock had worn off.

Running my hands through my hair, it was fuller, and longer, too, reaching down past my shoulders. My jeans were actually snug on my hips, which meant my hips were bigger. They were tighter on my ass too, which might explain some of the attention I was getting.

"That shirt was not a good choice." A girl stepped up to the mirror next to me.

"Yeah. I'm figuring that out. I was kind of out of it when I got dressed this morning and running late, too."

"Is it a special shirt?"

"Not really. I think I got it on the boardwalk last year or something."

"Let me help you, then." She took a small pair of scissors out of her purse and cut my shirt from the collar to the hem, right down the front. Damn, I had nice tits. Gathering up the loose ends, she tied them together right under my boobs, bunching the material so it covered my nipples and exposing my entire stomach. Sure, it sort of hid my nipples, but it gave me another reason to be self-conscious and the boys something different to focus on.

"I'm Zee." She smiled at me, sticking out her hand. Shocked and totally unprepared, I stammered for a minute.

"Yeah, Mel...anie." What the hell. I improvised. Melvin isn't exactly feminine, and Mel would work for either. "Thanks for the assist. I never would have thought of that."

"Well, you should have. With a body like yours, you shouldn't be hiding it. Come on. I think we both have Carson for Government. You always sit in the back, right?"

"Um, yeah. And, um, you can just call me Mel."

"One more thing." She dug a brush out of her purse and, using it on my unruly mess of hair, put it up in a nice, tight ponytail. I glanced in the mirror when she was done. I don't know whatever happened to me did. If it was the shooting star or cat scratching me, I was fucking hot. I got my wish. Now I just wished I actually wanted it.

"Can I ask you something?" Zee caught up with me after class.

"I guess." How was I going to answer anything? I didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Why do you hide like that? You know, I thought you were a boy until today. You're really pretty. I just don't get it."

"Just shy, I guess. I live with my uncle since my parents died. We don't have much, just his diner. I go to school and wash dishes for him. It's a block from the beach and I get a place to stay and all I can eat plus 12 bucks an hour. Not like I have much to offer anybody."

"You saw yourself in the mirror, right? Girls like you and me, it's about what they have to offer us." She laughed. "Come hang out with me sometime, and I'll teach you."

"Sure. Sounds like fun."

"Gimme your phone. I'll text you."

And like that, I had a bestie. All I needed to do now was figure out how to learn twenty years of being a girl before she texted me. That and explain to Vic what the hell happened after I figured it out for myself.

Vic wasn't home when I got there, which was a good thing. I stripped down and stood in front of my bathroom mirror, taking stock of what I had to work with. Damn, I was a smoke show. Long red hair, big green eyes, a thin supple body with nice firm breasts and a tight stomach. And my legs and ass were fucking amazing.

Whoever granted that wish had come through in spades. If only I had been serious. There were some issues, though. For one, I needed to shave, and badly.

I heard the waitresses talking all the time in the back of the diner when they were avoiding their tables. There were options, I just didn't really know what they meant, but I had internet for that. I tossed on some workout shorts and a tank top. In retrospect, those would not be my best choices, but a naked redhead in my mirror distracted me when I made them.

Waxing was going to run me about 200 a month. Depending on the spa, laser, or electrolysis, were out of the question, so I investigated what the best razors were, and the best lotions and creams to go with them. I knew my mom had her own hair stuff, so I looked at that next. Damn, there were a lot of choices. My shower had one bottle of Suave 3 in 1. That was always good enough for me. None of what I was looking at was cheap either.

I needed some clothes. Talk about not cheap, panties cost a ton, and bras; some of them ran over a hundred dollars. For one bra! I had more material than that in one sock.

My board shorts cost me fifteen dollars at Target last year. Bikinis were three times that, and that was just for the top. The bottoms were just as expensive. Do I need to mention I was looking at the supposedly cheap stuff?

Purses, shoes, oh my fucking god, shoes, pants, tops, dresses, skirts. There were so many options and all of them were way more expensive than my Wranglers and my T-shirts. Why didn't anyone tell me how expensive being a girl was? "You didn't fucking ask, idiot."

I started making a list, prioritizing things I needed and several I wanted. There was this pair of red heels that just sucked at my soul every time I saw them, but two-hundred dollars for shoes. They went on the want list.

Lost in what I was doing, I clicked on my Pandora app, choosing my Jimmy Buffett channel and letting the island sounds of the music carry me away.

I could feel myself butt-dancing in my chair, even pulling one of my legs up and sitting on my foot as I moved to the music. I never did this, but I'd admired girls doing it so many times.

Why wasn't I freaking out? I had panicked in the bathroom and been nervous as hell when Zee cut my T-shirt up. Now, it felt natural to jump from one site to the next, looking at all the bright colors and soft fabrics. It was fun to imagine how cute this outfit would be and how sexy I'd look in that dress.

"Mel? Oh, I'm sorry, miss. I'm looking for my nephew, Mel." Cringing, I looked at the clock on my laptop. I had been browsing for three hours. My uncle was standing behind me. My tank top barely covered my boobs, and my shorts had crawled up the crack of my butt.

"Hey uncle Vic." I slowly turned around.

"Mel? What the fuck?" My uncle never used language like that.

I gave him the best smile I could manage. His confused look mirrored the terror I felt.

"Mel, is that really you?"

"Yeah. And before you ask, I don't have a clue."

My eyes were begging him to believe me, to understand. How could he, though? I didn't even understand.

"I was on my porch when you walked Grace and Ellen to their cars and bitching to myself about how good they had it; all the special treatment girls got, while my life sucked so bad."

That stung a little, I could tell. I cringed again. "There was a shooting star. I kind of wished I was a girl. Somebody listened. Fuck, Vic. What do I do?"

I stood up and adjusted my clothes to be a little more modest.

Vic just shook his head. I understood what he was feeling. We were both in the same head space. The difference was my only choice was to figure it out. He could turn around and walk out, leaving me to figure it out on my own. Then I'd truly have nobody. "Vic, please help me." I was trembling.

We stood there looking at each other for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it was only about five minutes.

My uncle Vic could coordinate fifteen orders at a time on his grill, but wrapping his head around what was happening right now, was tying him in knots.

He took a few deep breaths, holding them and then letting them out through his nose, his brow furrowed, while he looked at the floor. He nodded and looked at me with big, sad eyes.

"Um, well, I guess you need some things." It was coming to him slowly. "Why don't you put some shoes on, and maybe a different top, and we can go to Walmart and see what we can find?"

Why wasn't he freaking out? Maybe for the same reasons I wasn't. Perhaps more than just me had changed. I guess it was possible that everything and everyone else had changed, too. And just like me, it was taking some time to settle in.

Stripping my tank top off and digging in my dresser right in front of Vic probably wasn't the best choice. I was off to such a great start, why not see if I could dig my hole a little deeper?

T-shirts are all about the same. I found one with a band logo that sort of hid my tits, and tied a knot in it at the waist, to make it a little cuter. Oh well. I was a girl now, right?

Who knew Walmart could be so educational? I learned I was a 32C, wore sized small panties, had a 27-inch waist, wore a size 8.5 shoe and was a size 2 in both my jeans and my dresses. All that and the little red bikini I picked out made my uncle blush really bad.

I wasn't going to ask how much we spent, and Vic paid for all of it. I guess I'd be working doubles all summer to make up for it.

"Mary hated to shave." Vic smiled at me as he pointed toward the day spa near the entrance of the Walmart. He treated me to a full body wax at the salon toward the front of the store. When they were done with that, he had them pierce my ears. They offered. I smiled. He nodded. I had a little bangle hanging from my belly button, too.

It was all so natural. Whatever had changed me hadn't just changed my body. I could tell the difference. I was seeing everything differently than I had before. This is how the world looked through the eyes of a girl.

It was strange, like when I changed, Vic changed, too. He looked like he was having fun watching me shop, watching me become more and more of a girl with each step. At least this might be good for him. I was having fun, too. Something Vic and I rarely did anymore. Maybe this would be good for both of us.

He drew the line at makeup. I would have to figure that out myself. I bet Zee would help me.

Getting used to wearing a bra was interesting. I knew I needed the support and the coverage. My nipples weren't exactly shy. I also like how sometimes the lace would peek out just a little from behind my top. All the little things I had found so sexy as a guy were just as sexy as a girl. Instead of lust, a tinge of pride came with them.

The girl at Walmart was so helpful. She even let me change into an outfit Vic bought me. A pair of pink chino shorts; 3" inseam, and a tight cropped tank top with a macaw on it that left my midriff bare. I just got my belly button pierced. Why not show it off?

We loaded everything into the car and ended up at Marshall Pier. Vic never went out to eat. "Why go out? I can cook anything you want." He always rebuked my offers, and he could too, so.

We got burgers and milkshakes, then ice cream. We played a few midway games in the carnival area. Vic even won me a small, cheap stuffed alligator. I named him George for no real reason than it sounded funny.

"You remind me of Mary; when we first met." He pulled me into a massive hug. That was all the explanation I needed. It was a date, sort of, but not a romantic one. It was closure for him, a chance to spend one more night with the love of his life. If I changed back right then, it would have been worth it.

The way he looked at me. The way I felt when he spoiled me. I had a feeling I had a lot more to learn about being a girl.

"Excuse me, miss."

"Yes, Dr. Randall." My chemistry teacher stopped me as I was leaving the room.

"I don't remember seeing you in my class before today."

"I guess I got pretty good at hiding. It's my curse. I've always been shy. My uncle convinced me I needed to come out of my shell a little, so..." I was wearing my standard jeans and T-shirt. It was just that my jeans were skintight, and my T-shirt hugged my form and cropped just enough to show off my belly button ring. "Um, Mel, Melanie Winters. I really enjoy your class."

"Oh, um, I don't know what to say. I honestly thought you were a boy."

"Probably because of the baggie clothes I always wore. Like I said, I'm kind of shy. I get nervous when I get too much attention." It would have been true two days ago. Now I considered it just a little white lie.

"Mel!" I heard Vic shout as soon as my door closed. I knew exactly what that meant, so I went potty and changed clothes. Denim booty shorts, an old T-shirt and my work shoes. I always hated how the legs of my jeans got wet when I washed dishes. Besides, Grace and Ellen were working and this whole thing was their fault, sort of. They should get to see what they did to me.

I ran downstairs and grabbed an apron, clambering to the dish station and doing everything I could to catch up.

"Tables!" Grace shouted. I stopped what I was doing and took my apron off, pushing the bus cart out into the diner. Half the tables were dirty and there was a line out the door. I bent over as far as I could when I wiped down the booths and stretched my shoulders, pushing my boobs out every time I stood up after cleaning a table.