Transforming the Scientist

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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Angela frowned. Of course, she was working late. If she wasn't working late, there was something wrong with her, burning the midnight oil, the only one left at the laboratory late at night. There were no stars in the night sky beyond the window, covered by the many layers of city pollution, the smog that no one that had lived there for their whole lives would have noticed. No one that didn't spend time out in the countryside would have realised that they were meant to see more stars than the lights of aircraft flitting by softly in the night sky. Sometimes, even those were obscured.

Her brown hair was trimmed to a smart length, though always kept tied back away from her face. With pursed lips, Angela held up the test tube to the light, observing it quietly, the green fluid tipping a little with the shift of her pale-skinned hand. Her nails were trimmed neatly also, though there was no nail polish. That would have gotten in the way of her work and that was something that Angela could not possibly abide by.

"Test number thirty-four," she said aloud, checking the time. "Nine-twenty-three, PM."

Only she, of course, knew what the test was for, why she took so much time in her private lab to work quietly, to keep her head down, to make changes for humanity. She could not have said whether those changes, in the end, would be for the better or worse, but Angela knew that the pursuit of knowledge, for her, was not something that she ever could have so easily set aside.

The liquid slipped easily down her throat as she stood, the bright lights of the lab catching everything, from her pale green scrubs underneath to the white lab coat that she always wore. Of course, she had several of them, not wanting to wear anything that was stained or dirtied, though the fabric was cheap and easily washed. They were not the sorts of things in her line of work, after all, that were usually intended to last a long time, expendable and disposable.

She coughed lightly, covering her mouth demurely with one hand, her glasses settling a little more comfortably over the bridge of her nose as she made a note, setting the test tube back in the little wooden rack. At first, she didn't feel anything, making a note of that, adjusting her weight as she sat back on a lab stool with a black, padded top. Even that was smooth and the type of material that could be easily cleaned, though it was, of course, synthetic. A little more hard-wearing than her lab coat, but...

Angela stiffened, lips twisting, a grimace contorting her expression as she gasped faintly.

"Oh..."

She staggered upright from her stool, gasping, clutching her chest, though there was no pain, none to be heard. All she knew was that every nerve-ending in her body tingled and ached too desperately for her to even consider making more notes, as much as her fingers twitched as if wanting to grasp for a pencil or even a pen right there and then.

"No... Oh... Oh, this..."

Yet her body was under the control of the potion that she had put together, something that was supposed to cause a change in strength, though all her earlier tests had had absolutely no effect at all. It could have been used for good or for bad and Angela gasped, grasping the worktop as she bent over, her back rounded, heaving, panting for breath that would not come to settle in her lungs.

Angela groaned deeply, a throaty, guttural sound that came up from deep in her being, rumbling forth. As her back rounded, the lab coat grew tighter and tighter, muscles bulging, showing through, yet the thin fabric could only last so long. Her legs swelled into tree trunks that no longer fit her shape and physique, pulling at the seams of her scrubs, yet even the light fabric of them was not enough to hold her.

The seams strained, flesh bulging, muscle aching, blistering through as she strove to find a comfortable position, even as the sound of the seams tearing ripped through the room. The lab coat burst across her shoulders, hanging from a frame that was much larger than it had been only a few moments ago, changes rippling through her. Oh, if only she had thought to create a video record!

Her mind raced, trying to find a way to keep up with everything. Looking down at her hands, she heaved for breath, spreading them out, her knuckles larger, bristling with a new layer of hair, though her heart surged as it covered her. It felt "right" in some way and Angela laughed aloud, throwing her head back as she licked her lips. Even her tongue was different, flicking out of her mouth with a slimmer tip, more flexible, wetter too, lewd and crude and the sort of thing that she would never have expected to come from such a concoction!

But maybe that was the true beauty of her work, her experiments, seeking out new ways for humans to live, even if some of them too would not be as humans. She breathed as slowly and as deeply as she could manage, her jawline becoming thicker, blockier, chunkier. Angela would have considered it more masculine if she was looking at gender in a purely binary manner, though that had never been her way. It was only difficult to come up with terms that had been present her whole scientific life when her body ached in muscular, powerful changes.

She felt as if she was pushing up onto the tips of her toes as she grew, her height a little more -- if one and a half feet could be considered "a little". It might as well have been a mountain to Angela as she grunted and hunched over further, the counter no longer set at a comfortable height for her. She shoved her coat, the shreds of it, away from her shoulders, the scrubs underneath covering barely anything. The bra that she'd been wearing had pinged free without Angela realising, leaving her breasts exposed.

Even those grew -- fascinating! That had nothing to do with strength, but Angela could not focus on her research anymore, what she had been focusing on for so long. All she knew was strength, her body muscular, pecs hardening further behind her breasts, even giving them an extra little bit of lift, the heavy swell of her breasts matching her form. After all, she had the back muscle to support them now!

Her shoulders broadened a little further, rounding out into powerful cannonballs, her midsection thickening with muscle as abdominals showed through. Angela's skin darkened as she grunted thickly, eyes glistening, the lines of her face contorted and twisted from the sheer volume of changes happening to her, though the "woman" would not have honestly said that it was against her will. It was her experiment and there could be nothing wrong with that when she had consented to whatever course of action such a potion had been to take.

Her hair though... It spilt down her shoulders to the upper part of her back, wild and untamed, more of a mane than anything else as it thickened up considerably. It was the sort of hair that she might have honestly struggled to get a brush through, if that was going to be any consideration to her going forward, tangled and knotted and yet appearing all the wilder for it. Maybe that was not something that was going to have to be worried about anyway. There were far too many changes as she grew in power, rolling her shoulders back and standing tall.

Mmm...

Power. She'd never considered it before as she ran her hands down her body, watching the hair, not from her head, blossom down her back with a twist of her head. It marked the line of her spine and yet made her feel even more exotically erotic, as if she was putting on a show for someone -- or, no, that was not it. The most important person in the world for Angela to feel sexy for was, of course, herself and that was something that could be too easily forgotten at the worst of times.

Yes, she had muscle, but she didn't want to use it for harm, not as heat prickled through her new body, her eyes glinting with glee, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror she'd left out to help catalogue an earlier chemical reaction. Somehow, during her transformation, she'd knocked over the test tube rack, the glass tube spinning away across the counter, though there was no liquid left within it. Maybe things could have been different if she had only downed half of it rather than the whole tube, but there was no guarantee that Angela would have been able to appropriately catalogue the reaction with only a minor one.

She shook her head, even her neck feeling thicker, yet that was merely a little more muscle in her shoulders and traps, her back stronger than those of most men. She could hardly believe it, though the manner of sexy poses were beyond anything she needed to do. Why should she want to pose like that when she was already the embodiment of power and sexuality?

Angela growled, licking her lips, eyeing up her darkening skin, the coarser prickle of hair down her arms, as if the final details of the transformation were filling out the finer details, taking their time. The rise of hair on her arms was almost pleasant, every tiny little sensation coming into focus, how it darkened, her skin richer, though not tanned -- more as if it had become the skin of another. Her reflection eyed her from the small hand mirror lying on the counter, the strong, powerful jaw of a monster, the hair from her head swarming, even then, down around her neck and between her breasts like the mane of a lion.

Yet Angela was no lion, even if she could have bragged a roar to best the strongest of them. She was a monster, a monster-woman, a being in her own right, chuckling throatily, even her voice lower in pitch. That didn't bother her, however, not as she rocked back on her heels, her hands going down over her buttocks, between her thighs, finding the thicker layer of hair everywhere, though it was the most notable around her crotch. As if it was thickening up there to protect her genitalia, it coated her around her crotch like fur -- yes! That was it. The hair, where it sprouted to that thick extent down her arms, over her wrists and the back of her hands, down her chest -- it was not only hair, it was fur. And that was better than anything else as she trembled with sexual power, groaning deep in the back of her throat, even adoring that guttural sound.

It was her, inexplicably so, irrevocably so. Angela grunted, a smirk on her lips, her transformation settling over her, the brush of fur across the front of her ankles the final notch in her transformation belt. She groaned, rolling her shoulders back, cracking out her neck, fiery need thrumming through her, as if it was connected to the beating pace of her heart, how it throbbed for its own kind of attention.

The lab might not have been any different...but she had changed. And there was no going back from that as she put her hand on the doorhandle, laughably small within her hand, showing her new strength even in the closing of her fingers.

"I wonder what the others will think of my transformation?" She rumbled, though there was no one left at the lab. "There's only one way to find out!"

In the morning, her colleagues and staff would most certainly have a monstrous surprise on their hands! However, not a bad one, by any means...