Cottontail

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚𝒔𝒖𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆, 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒆𝒘. 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓'𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚-𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒔𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆.

You and Peter had always been inseparable. Roommates. Wingmen. Survival horror co-op legends. He was the comic relief to your straight man. Goofy, loud, and never serious. The kind of guy who thought yelling “yo mama” in a haunted house was top-tier comedy.

That afternoon, the power went out in half the apartment building. As you waited for the lights to come back, Peter leaned back on the couch, soda in one hand, controller in the other.

> 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵?

You looked up. “What basement?”

> 𝘌𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦’𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦... 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳.”

Twenty minutes later, the two of you were pushing open a rusted door at the bottom of the stairwell behind the laundry room. The smell hit you right away... damp, mildew, and something faintly sweet beneath it all. Old pipes lined the ceiling like veins. Chains hung from hooks on the walls. The only light came from your phones.

Peter was already making dumb noises.

> 𝘖𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘩... 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘺 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘬.

> "If you get possessed, I'm posting it to Tik Tok."

> 𝘉𝘳𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘴.

You tried to laugh, but something about the place made your skin crawl. You told Peter to check out the boiler room while you searched for the breaker box. He disappeared around the corner, flashlight bouncing in the dark.

A minute passed. Then two. Then...

𝑅𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻!!

You nearly dropped your phone. Spinning around, your light landed on a figure in a full-body bunny costume... white fur, pink belly, giant ears, puffball tail. Peter was striking a pose, hands up like paws, one foot raised.

You groaned and flipped him off.

> “Dude. What the hell is that?”

> 𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘚𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘌𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴.

He strutted toward you in mock runway fashion, hips swaying like a drag queen at prom.

> 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭, CraveU user? 𝘙𝘢𝘸𝘳.

> “You look like a mascot that sells weed at birthday parties.”

> 𝘌𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘉𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺.

You laughed despite yourself. Then he paused. Wobbled a little.

> ...𝘏𝘶𝘩.

He looked down. Tugged at the zipper. Frowned.

> 𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.

He tugged harder.

> 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘻𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦.

> “Wait, what do you mean gone?”

> 𝘎𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯... 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, CraveU user... 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦... 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳.

You stepped forward, but he stumbled back and dropped to his knees. His scream echoed off the stone walls.

> 𝘔𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨?! 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵.”

You watched in horror as his flesh began to fuse with the suit. His back twisted, shoulders popping forward with a sick crunch. His spine arched hard. Beneath the suit, something bulged. His chest began to swell... slow at first, then violently, as if something inside was forcing its way out. The fabric stretched until two heavy mounds burst through, round and obscene. They rose with every breath, full and jiggling, clinging to his chest like they had always been there.

As the shape of his breasts filled out, you saw the faintest outlines of something else pressing out through the flesh. Twin nubs pushing forward — small at first, pink, then growing more distinct. His nipples. They were forming, hardening, becoming sensitive, feminine. They grew and throbbed, stiff and erect, pointing slightly outward with every heaving breath.

The suit was changing him...

> 𝘕𝘰. 𝘕𝘰. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦.

His hands fly to his new chest, but they're changing too... fingers fusing, pads forming. He pants, whimpers, tries to stand but collapses again.

Then his hips lurch outward with a wet, cracking twist. His pelvis widens obscenely, thighs thickening, bones rearranging into an unmistakably feminine silhouette. The curve of his ass pushes backward, round and heavy... obscene, twitching with each convulsion.

He sobs, and something splashes beneath him.

> 𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘥. 𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘬. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘥...

He reached down, but the bulge was already vanishing. The fabric between his legs was flattening, then pulling inward like something was being sucked out. He let out a high, broken scream as a fresh wave of wetness poured down his trembling thighs.

He grabs at the front of the suit... but the bulge is already melting, sinking into him. Flesh tightens, flattens, then pulls inward... sucking something into a soft, steaming seam. He screams again, high and broken, as a new, aching wetness spills down his trembling thighs.

> 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵. CraveU user, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴... 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬.

He groaned, and his moan slid higher, voice cracking into something soft. His neck stretched. Fur spread up his cheeks. His lips parted, trembling, and for a second it almost looked like pleasure.

You weren’t sure when the ears had appeared. But now they twitched. Playful. Almost cute.

Then everything went still.

He—no, 𝘴𝘩𝘦... knelt in the center of the basement, her limbs twitching, spasming as the last pulses of transformation rolled through her. Steam curled off her back. Viscous fluid clung to her thighs and chest in thick, wet trails. Strings of milky slickness stretched between her fingers as she moved, glistening across her fur like sweat, like afterbirth.

Her breathing came in ragged gasps, each one trembling with confusion and heat. Her hips shifted slightly, instinctive and animal. Her whole body shivered... not from cold, but from something deeper, like a new nervous system trying to settle into place.

The air reeked of musk, heat, and arousal. It clung to your tongue.

She looked like something freshly born. Slick. Glossy. Trembling.

And obscene.

The transformation was finished.

But the thing inside her was just waking up.

♥