Puss In Heels

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Magic stockings changes a young woman at work.
6.8k words
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Lycandope
Lycandope
1,067 Followers

The lunch crowd rushed along the sidewalk, flowing around Milly as if she were a pebble in a coursing river. She clung to her purse, fixing her chestnut brown hair every time a pedestrian jostled her. The two chopsticks holding her hair up felt loose but she had no time to fix them; she just prayed they wouldn't come out. They were her only nice pair, despite the chips along their length.

She moved with a purpose, keeping her distance from everyone as they made their way to their favorite cafes. Her stomach growled but she pressed her balled hand against her cream-colored blouse. A passing woman knocked into her without a backwards glance or apology and Milly stuck her tongue out at the woman's retreating back.

A black and white marbled column provided her a safe haven in order to fix her hair and to recenter the cheap plastic "pearl" necklace she wore. She sighed as she touched it and remembered her mother laughing at her for wearing so many fake products.

"I just want to look nice," she whispered, tugging at her skirt to hide the edge of the tear in her stockings.

Earlier, she'd caught her stocking on an open filing cabinet and it ripped through the expensive silk like it was nothing. She'd run to the corner of the supply room, out of view, and cried. It was her first job after college and student loans were killing her. Unlike the fake pearls, she'd splurged on her work outfit and been particularly proud of her hosiery. Real silk, cool and sleek against her legs.

Her destination was across the street. She stepped into the flow of people and then back again as nobody made way for her.

"I can do this," she told herself quietly, fixing her face with a look of determination. The effect was spoiled by the twin dimples on her cheeks and her small stature. "I will do this."

Taking a deep breath, she dived in, moving and bumping through the crowd until she reached the crosswalk. The light turned green and she followed the waiting group, almost falling when her heels caught a loose stone. A stranger chuckled behind her and her face burned but she wrinkled her nose, squinted her eyes and continued without looking back.

Turning away from everyone, she walked to the thrift store. Her hand rested on the door but she paused to look around, suddenly sure that all of her coworkers would be there, watching and judging her for where she shopped. A quick look assured her that she was being silly and she walked in.

She hated that she worried what others thought but she wanted to make a good impression. Her mother's condescending laugh echoed in her mind, forcing her to stand taller. The act made her wobble on her unfamiliar heels and she hurried into the store, hoping nobody would notice.

The women's section of the store was far larger compared to the rest and she wound through it, searching for the intimate apparel section. This deep downtown, the only clothing stores were far outside her budget and she needed something to wear before going back to work; her apartment was an hour long bus ride away which put her backup clothes out of reach.

"Oh. Oh, gross," she said, sticking her tongue out.

She'd found the stockings - all cheap no-name brands barely any better than wet tissue, next to panties. Used panties. She walked wide of them, turning her head purposefully away until she reached the rack she wanted. They were all nondescript black with the texture of sandpaper. Milly closed her eyes and leaned forward to rest her forehead against the cool metal bar of the rack.

With her eyes closed, she sighed heavily and grabbed the first set next to her hand. She went to her tiptoes and nearly fell before catching herself on the rack. The poorly constructed structure wobbled and she squawked as she almost dumped the entire collection of merchandise. Her cheeks blazed as she moved away, wiping her hands on her skirt.

A bored girl with black hair and Kohl rimmed eyes stood nearby, slowly reshelving clothing. Milly admired her nose stud and wished she had the courage to wear the same. Holding the chosen hose close, she walked to her.

And then stopped.

A large bin lay between rows. She leaned back and then forward. And then back and forward again.

At the very corner of the bin were a pair of sheer gray stockings. What caught her attention was the faint shimmering black spots hidden in the fabric. She leaned back once more, watching as the spots appeared to move in the lights high overhead.

Her curiosity was piqued. Milly brushed past musty clothing until she stood before the canvas bin. She reached behind herself to hang the cheap hose on a nearby rack and then let it drop.

"So soft," she whispered, stroking the material. She picked one of them up, tilting it in the light to admire the unique patterns.

Grabbing the second hose, she looked around for the girl she'd seen earlier - and nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized she was standing nearby.

"Oh, uh," Milly said, rubbing the stockings between her fingers. "Uh. Can I put these on here if I buy them? I need them for work."

"Sure," the girl said without looking up from her stack of clothes. "I don't care."

"Thanks!" she told her, clutching the items to her chest.

No line waited for her at the checkout but a scrawny teenage boy leaned against the counter with an old portable game system in his hands.

Aww, man, really? she sighed to herself.

Biting her lip, she waffled back and forth on whether she had the nerve to make the purchase.

You've got this, Milly, she told herself. Pushing out her chest, she strode forward confidently and slammed the stockings down on the counter.

"I'd like to buy these, please," she said loudly, maintaining eye contact with the thin young man. "They're for work."

He looked at her for a moment and she held his gaze defiantly. Finally, he glanced down. And then back up.

"For work, yeah?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes!" she replied, glancing down quickly.

The bottom of the stockings held the distinct brown toe prints of a large cat. A single dark blob mid-foot, the spade-like coloring where the balls of her feet would go and cute little jellybean brown ovals for four of her toes.

Shit, she cursed, staring at them. Shit. I could just say I grabbed the wrong ones! No, no. That's stupid. God, that's stupid. Uh. Uh. I could just walk away. Just. Just turn and walk and never come back. Leave the city. Forever. But they're so soft!

"Yes," she said, clenching her jaw. "Work."

"Alright," he said. "No tag. Where'd you get them? You sure they're ours?"

"I got them from the bin," she replied, hating the strain of maintaining dominant eye-locking. Yet she decided she wouldn't yield. She would maintain class and dignity as befitted her office job.

"Oh, those are a dollar then," he told her, pushing a button on his register.

"What, are you fucking serious?" Milly blurted. "Sweet!"

She saw his eyebrows raise with his head turned to the side and the edge of his mouth twitched.

Dammit, she groaned. Goddammit, Milly.

Her ears burned like twin torches as she handed over two bills, dropping the excessive amount of change into the charity jar at the end of the counter.

"Thank. You," she said robotically, spinning and nearly falling on her ass as her ankle faltered in her shoes.

The path to the changing room was directly in front of her through the open main area but she hid herself through stocked aisles, wandering in a labyrinthian pattern until she squeezed into the small room.

The slat-topped bench provided little comfort for her slim ass as she sat to undo the straps of her heels. She pulled the tight shoes off with a happy sigh before setting them on the bench next to her. Lifting her left knee, she hooked her trimmed nails into the stockings and pushed, relishing the way the material felt as it slid down her recently shaved legs. She rolled them at her ankle and pointed her toes as she pulled them off. The right followed next until her legs were bare.

Milly took a moment to stretch and rotate her feet, admiring the perfectly pink nail polish that covered her toenails. She'd almost done her fingernails to match but worried it'd look childish.

She picked her left foot up, bending her knee to hold her soft sole in her hand. Her fingertips dug into the unlined skin, slowly working in a small circle. She rubbed her heel with her left hand while her right pressed hard into her arch. Sliding her hand higher, nearly tickling herself in the process, she pressed the tips of her fingers into the ball of her foot, just beneath her big toe.

Rocking her finger back and forth in turn, she sighed with a ragged breath of happiness before moving on to the next toe, squeezing her arch as she dug in. The slightest of wrinkles lined the tops of her toes and she could nearly see her reflection in the soft, flawless bubblegum coloring topping her cute little toes. She wiggled them and spread them apart the best she could, closing her eyes as her fingers worked out the stress she'd accumulated throughout the day.

Once finished, she ran a single nail down the center of her foot, grabbing the bench with her left hand while arching her back as the sharp touch on her coddled foot shot a ticklish streak of pleasure down her spine.

Knowing that her lunch break was slowly drawing to a close but still feeling the ache from the confinement, she repeated the motions on her right foot. Once finished, she raised both legs in front of her. She stretched while holding onto the bench and then reached for her new stockings.

Milly rolled the soft hosiery in her hands before pressing her toes into the opening. The silky material was nearly as soft as the expensive pair she'd torn - a welcome surprise for such a cheap find. It dragged over her toenails and along the tops of her toes. At its touch, alabaster hairs emerged from her skin, as if pulled forth by the hosiery itself. Spots shimmered in the cheap overhead lighting as she unrolled the fabric slowly, luxuriating in the feel of it against her body.

Black hairs slid from her legs in sparse patches and irregular blobs as she continued to pull the hose higher, reaching her knees. She shivered as the random hairs scratched against her calves and shins. As before, she raised her leg and continued unrolling.

"Ohh," Milly gasped, pausing halfway up her thigh. She shook, suddenly over sensitive as the magic wormed its way into her, forcing her to squirm uncomfortably on the bench. "Crap, the time."

Unable to wait longer, she leaned back to unravel the stocking fully. Hidden from her view, the very tips of silver and black hairs forced their way through the tiny holes in the fabric.

Working a little more quickly, she grabbed the second one, bundling it quickly. When it touched the tip of her foot, the skin beneath her toes grew wrinkly. She tugged them up over the balls of her foot and small bumps formed over her tarsal bones as it slid higher. The tips of scattered hairs emerged and lengthened, forcing another full body shiver as she worked the stockings over her soft, cream-colored thighs.

"Go, go, go," she whispered to herself, shoving into her pointed toe pumps and wincing as the swollen leathery patches of skin along the bottom of her feet made her small feet cramped in her shoes. "Come on!"

Milly stood, wobbling once more in her shoes. A sharp, painful jolt in her lower back made her hiss in pain and her lips drew back to show her teeth briefly. Her tailbone unfused and phantom muscles tried to shift to counterbalance her inexperience with standing and walking in her pumps.

Just above the gentle swell of her ass cheeks, in between the twin dimples, a single black hair forced itself free. An argent hair, nearly clear due to its thinness, snaked out next to the darker hair. A second and third followed as the skin over her tailbone grew red and irritated. The sharp pain faded into a distant throbbing ache. Three more silver hairs sprouted and a second black hair grew to join the first one. Tendons, ligaments and muscles began to envelop the tip of her tailbone, beneath the hairs.

Grabbing her old stockings, she shoved them into her purse and stepped out of the changing room. A worker stood next to the door, slowly hanging discarded clothing on a portable hanger. Milly hissed at the other girl's sudden appearance and the few hairs dotting her back stood on end.

"Uh?" the other girl asked, pausing with a lemon-colored Polo shirt in one hand.

"I paid for these!" Milly said loudly, shoving her receipt forward while pointing at her legs.

Her eyes widened as the adrenaline surged through her body in a small wave. As it ebbed, her pupils contracted, shrinking to vertical oblongs. Miniature gray strands of coloring appeared in her plain brown irises.

"Yeah, okay," the girl said, raising her eyebrows before turning back to her task.

Dammit, Milly, she cursed herself as she stalked away. A lump slowly expanded above her ass and the skin shifted as the forming tip of her tail thrashed to match her frustration. More hairs, mostly silver, covered the bump and a few began to trail upwards. Why do you keep messing up like that?

Each strike of her foot grew more confident as she swept through the store. She'd grown to hate her uncomfortable shoes in the brief time she'd worn them, forced to stand on her toes. Within the pumps, the faux brown cat paw print began to fade. As it melted into the surrounding colors, the constant ache along the soles faded. It felt right to walk on the balls of her feet and the movement became an afterthought as she exited the store.

However, once outside, the press of the crowd intimidated her as everyone began to return to work from lunch. She pushed herself back to the wall of the building with her back hunched. The lump of her tail extended to a short rounded tip that flicked against her clothing but the odd sensation was lost as her eyes darted through the flow of people.

Beneath her hair, the edges of her ears flattened and flowed into a soft point. They trembled as they tried to rotate and track the multitude of sounds surrounding her.

There! she thought to herself, easily stepping into a sudden gap. The overpowering scents of cars and perfume and cologne and food and sewage flooded her nose and she sneezed violently as she walked. Thick, milky white whiskers split the skin over her lips, as if expelled by the jerk of her head. She brushed the back of her hand against her lips and continued. An odd urge formed deep in her chest as her stomach growled. She caught herself eyeing slow, straggling walkers at the edge of the sidewalk but forced herself onward, easily sliding through the giant rush of people as if they were ghosts.

Her step faltered as a child broke away, snatching his hands from the adult walking beside him. Milly's eyes narrowed to slits and she bared her teeth but a passing pedestrian bumped into her and pulling her back from the beast growing within.

The glass and marble facade where her company shared space with others appeared before her and she marked the path through the crowd before stepping and turning and walking through the needed spaces. The exposed tip of her thick tail lay nestled between her ass cheeks, held down by her tight skirt and sensible panties. With each step, the hairs covering it brushed against her ass and thighs in a distinctly pleasurable fashion. She tugged at her skirt to settle it but the soft touch continued, slowly building a state of heightened sensitivity that warmed her body.

The dark brown suede of her shoes strained as the wrinkled skin along the bottom of her feet solidified and swelled further into the beginning of her paw pads. Her skin overflowed the tight shoes forcing the edges to cut painfully into the top of her foot.

"Hi Dolores," Milly said, pulling the badge attached to her lanyard at her waist. She held it in front of herself while stepping from one aching foot to the other. Her stubby tail lifted and then flexed down as it lengthened slightly. Her eyes bulged as the tails caressed her pussy lips.

"Are you okay, Ms. Devonshire?" the older woman asked.

"Yes!" she answered, too quickly and too loudly, pulling at the side of her skirt once more.

"Okay," Dolored replied. "You know, you don't have to show me your badge, right? I know who you are and the elevator won't let you up without it."

"Right," Milly panted, wiping at the almost invisible whiskers along her cheeks. Her tongue dragged against the back of her hand as it passed her mouth.

Her unruly tail moved again, forcing her to nibble at her lips and her hand rose to her throat. It vibrated against her fingertips for a moment before stopping. The very tips of her ears, visible now through her hair, flicked back in surprise.

"Right," Milly reaffirmed, walking towards the elevator.

Each step was torture and the shoes strained, pushing her feet backwards and out of the opening. She kicked out of them as the doors closed, standing on wide, leathery-soft paw pads that stretched her stockings. The hairs piercing the fabric along her legs exactly matched the pattern of black spots with dark silver hairs filling the spaces in between.

'What's wro-oooaawwwl!" Milly yowled, thrusting her ass back as cramps filled her stomach. Her skirt lifted when her tail pressed up into it. She dropped her shoes, gripping the bronze railing that lined the elevator's wall while shoving herself against the wall. Shivering and sweating, she rubbed herself against the opposite railing while licking her lips with her rough tongue.

Her jaw ached, the bones pounding in time to the throbbing low in her belly. The sensation passed as suddenly as it appeared, leaving her gasping and weakly sinking to her knees.

The smell of her arousal filled the tiny elevator as it pinged each floor in its slow ascent. She pushed herself back up with shaking arms.

"Nyaaa," she moaned, leaning forward as her tail lengthened once more. It spread her ass cheeks with its thickness and pressed against her swollen sex.

"What is-" she gasped, reaching behind to see what was pushing into her. The elevator dinged and she froze in place before she could see what was happening.

The subdued noise of the office caused her ears to swivel and her heart raced as she stood barefoot in front of everyone, waiting for them to notice her. A split formed at the center of her top lip and the skin surrounding it grew dark as her whiskers quivered in anxiety.

Do I- she wondered in the split second after the doors opened. She licked her lips again, wincing as it dragged against her. Black lines spread from the split in her lip, flowing outward like a lightning strike in slow motion. At the same time, her lips bulged outward over her canines as they began to lengthen. I have to.

She held her shoes against her hips and walked quietly on silent, padded paws. Her calf muscles flexed as she strode through the office. The magic pulled at her body, forcing her to the forefront of her wide feet, despite no longer wearing her pumps. The stockings vanished beneath fur that completely covered her legs, leaving only her pink toenails exposed. The pink cracked as she walked and her toenails bowed upwards in a sharp peak. Beneath her skirt, the tip of her tail flexed and rubbed against the bottom curve of her ass.

"Hey Milly," Thomas said as she passed his cubicle. He stood to chat but Milly kept walking.

"Sorry-I-don't-have-time-to-talk-super-late-and-busy!" Milly said in a rush, speeding up to turn the corner away from him. Her tail slid further until it reached her thighs. It bulged beneath her skirt as new muscles formed, stretching the skin beneath the fur and straining the skirt covering it.

Lycandope
Lycandope
1,067 Followers
12