Kitty Cat Princess Ch. 01

(I know I have a lot of stories with just one chapter out and apologize for taking on so much at once. I will likely be dropping Love Makes Every Thorn a Rose because it's the least popular one and continuing the others soon.)

1

John is your average guy in a not-so-average world.

His hometown, Skunkrose, is right by Jones City, the capital of the state. It's rampant with crime, and some of that no-good shenanigans happens to spill into his small town when the sun goes down. People with something called Abilities started being born 25 years ago which can only be described as super powers, and with that arose both villains and heroes.

His older brother Evan is helping him clean out their grandfather's closet. He passed away after a second stroke the week prior, and both boys as the only grandkids were given everything, including the large 600k house, in the will. Their mom, being an unrepentant alcoholic, was left with nothing.

"What do ya think is in here?" asks John, sticking a thumb out to the armoire.

"I don't know. But we could order a lockpicking kit," Evan says thoughtfully.

"OR I could get a hammer and smash the door open," he says eagerly.

"... you really want to do that second option, don't you?"

"You know it," says John with a grin. He wants to be an architect one day, fascinated with both building and destroying things. For now, he works in construction.

"Fine. There should be one in the garage," he says, not even finished with the final word as John runs down the creaky wooden staircase. He hits the garage door button and heads inside. It takes a few minutes to find their grandfather's tool box but when he does, it's worth it for the satisfaction that comes when he swings the hammer and hears the loud crash of splintering wood. Inside is a sea of women's clothes hanging on the rack with heels on the bottom. In the center of all the shoes is a shoebox that reads TO MY GRANDKIDS in permanent black marker.

"Looks like he kept a lot of Nana's things," observes Evan.

"Or maybe he was like you," says John. He's referring to Evan's drag queen persona Evanescence Ravenway. On the outside, he's just a normal dude in a cashmere sweater, but out on stage he dresses in gothic attire, lip-syncing at night clubs in Jones City.

John opens the box to find, of all things, a choker with a gold chain and a rose quartz moon dangling from it.

"The hell? I never saw Nana in any of this, especially not this!"

"Ha! Looks like they had a sense of humor. And with all these girl clothes, you know what I'm thinking..."

"Not this again."

"If you try it, I promise to never ask again." Evan puts his hands together and pretends to pray. "Dear Lord, please help John get the stick out of his ass and play dress-up with me. I'll be a good man, just grant me this one request por favor."

".... Fine. Whatever. But no pictures!"

2

"I'm not putting on lipstick. What if Nana had herpes?"

"Then the germs would've died off in 2010 when she died. Now, hold still," orders Evan.

"I can do it myself. I'm not a doll," he snaps.

"Of course you're not. None of my Barbies would've given me this much trouble."

Evan is wearing a sparkly black dress with a pearl necklace, one of the only dark articles of clothing in the entire wardrobe. Meanwhile, John is in a pink dress with a slit on the bottom left, his scrawny, hairy leg sticking out.

"I don't know how this fit Nana. She was petite... And why is there a hole near the ass?"

"Who cares? Now, put on the necklace and tell me how you feel."

John puts on the choker in front of the mirror and something bizarre happens! He gets a warm, funny feeling all over his body, especially around his cock. The sound of cats meowing seems to rise up from the floorboards, and a tingling that starts with his ears slides up to the top of his head and his tailbone.

I feel AMAZING! shouts a booming, female voice in his head.

John whips the necklace at the ground and watches as it bounces along the floor, skittering across the room. Pink smoke explodes all around him as his heart pounds with adrenaline, fear rushing through him.

Evan looks like he just saw a ghost. "Holy crap! You got cat ears for a second!" he finally says. "Put it back on!"

"I'm not putting that--why are you trying it on???"

When nothing happens, Evan looks crushed.

"I think it chose you, my guy. Try it on when you're home alone if you're shy, but text me when you do so I know what happens. I think we found something magical,"

3

A few days come and go. John doesn't know what to do except continue with his mundane, typical life, the necklace in its box under his bed.

His cute neighbor, Ren, bumps into him on his way to the mailbox.

"Hey Jim!" she says.

It's John, he tries to say. He fantasizes about correcting her but can never get himself to say more than two words to her. Her beauty is just that powerful. She has a dimpled smile, almond-shaped eyes and wavy cotton candy blue hair. She must be Korean or Japanese; John knows he isn't the smartest guy around, but feels like that's not an excuse to be ignorant of the difference.

Today, there's a guy with her. He's in better shape than John could ever hope to be (Despite working in a field filled with manual labor, he has a hard time gaining weight) with a red beard and curled up mustache.

"Who are you?" he asks him, even though he knows before he answers exactly what he is to her.

"I'm Killian, Ren's boyfriend." He sticks out a calloused, tan hand.

John's heart sinks, which is totally unjustified. She's gorgeous, of course she has a significant other already!

"I'm John," he says to him, and puts his hand in his which gets him two hearty shakes.

"John? Crap! I thought you were Jim this whole time! My bad," Ren laughs, seeming a little embarrassed.

John opens his mouth to say something, anything to her when his phone starts playing its piano ringtone specifically for his brother.

"Guess you better take that, buddy," says Killian, like he forgot his name already.

"See you around!" says Ren, forever chipper.

John calls Evan back when he's out of earshot. "Hey," he says in a flat voice.

"Well, someone's in a bad mood."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to tell me about the cat ears!!! Have you tried it on again?" he asks excitedly.

"Why do you care?" John can't help but let irritation seep into his voice. "What's it to you?"

"Curiosity," he admits. "Maybe a little jealousy."

John's keys jingle as he opens his apartment door. "I'm thinking of selling it, if I'm honest."

"No way! This is the most amazing, mystical thing to happen in either of our lives and you're going to fork it over for some cash?"

"Who says it's magic and not someone's Ability?" he questions. He kicks his boots off and locks the door. He's been looking forward to a can of Chef Boyardee for the past hour and wants to get lost in the warm, tasty red sauce and carbohydrates.

"Whatever it is, it's totally awesome and you need to try it on again!"

John sets the can on the counter and opens the fridge.

"I'll think about it. I have to go," he says, lying through his teeth.

"Okay! Text me!"

He cracks open a corona, drinking it faster than he's used to or expects. He figures a little liquid courage couldn't hurt.

Then another...

And another.

When he's somewhere in the smack middle of tipsy and trashed, he heads to his bedroom. He constructed his bed when he moved in last month Ikea style, screwing it together in a way that brought him quite a bit of satisfaction.

He stands in front of his full-length mirror with the necklace. He didn't want one, but Evan had helped him decorate his new living space and had insisted he check his outfits, especially when considering his bachelor status.

Maybe he'll be a bachelor forever.

Alone.

He clips the hook in the back and watches with awe as the sound of meowing starts off soft, then increasingly louder as he witnesses his ears move up to the top of his head. They're pitch black and he touches them tentatively, his new ears twitching in response.

The tingling all over his body starts. It's not an unpleasant feeling, just... unusual.

Two buttons from his shirt pop off and hit the mirror with a double plink, and he looks down in horror as his chest is swelling at a rapid rate. His eyes flick back up to his face's reflection, just in time to see his lips plump up, his eyelashes lengthen and his facial features soften. Lastly, he feels something shooting from his tailbone. His pants tighten so he unbuckles his jeans and pulls down his boxers and sure enough, he has a tail! Not only that, but his cock is missing and in its place is... is a pussy!

He touches his legs which are now smooth, his thighs plump. When he turns around, he finds that his once flat ass is fat and round.

Welcome back, cutie! A voice in his head says.

"Who are you?" he says in her voice. "What the fuck is this?"

Why kill the mood with questions like that? she whines. Let's get drunk and cum!!!

"And you think that's a good idea why?"

Well, I'm sorry. Did you have somethin' better to do tonight?

John can't argue with that logic. So, he breaks out the heavy duty liquor, pouring a good amount of Tito's into a glass of ginger ale and cranberry. He thinks of the woman in the "two shots... of vodka" vine as he pours it for a handful of seconds before capping the jug and putting it away. He grimaces at the strong taste, but downs it nonetheless.

Good girl, she coos at him.

"Um, I'm a dude," he says adamantly as he heads back to his room.

Suuuuure.

He's in front of the mirror again, gazing at his new image. He undoes the lower buttons of his shirt, the article of clothing hitting the floor. His nipples are bigger and one touch on the tip feels electric. He touches the other, and soon he's rubbing his breasts and moaning like a whore.

It must be the alcohol... he tells himself.

His right hand trails down his soft stomach to his cunt. He quickly finds his clit, legs trembling where he stands.

John moves to the bed, knowing he can only cum on his back. He rubs his clit and plays with his nipple.

"Nnnngh. Does, ah, getting off as a girl always feel this good?"

The voice is unusually quiet.

He rubs his clit, pussy clenching around nothing and feeling uncomfortably empty until he feels like peeing.

Squirt, baby girl, purrs the voice.

John yelps, a spray of liquid shooting from his new pussy across the room as an orgasm rocks him to his core. He keeps rubbing until its over and he's panting, breathless like he just ran a marathon.

He quickly loses consciousness once his heart has slowed, the liquor in his blood and masturbation session pushing him into the peaceful darkness of sleep.