Diane placed her purse on the counter, distracted by the glass of wine poured for her and the note tucked under the base. It was from Kevin’s yellow note pad, and his indelicate scrawl addressed her.
“Di,” it began, “I know it’s been a long week, so I thought you deserved a drink. I’ll be back shortly, just picking up a few things for the evening we both deserve.”
She held the note in her long, well-manicured fingers, turning it over to check the back for anything further, but the message ended there. “A long week…” That was an understatement. This week had almost undone their marriage, and she still wasn’t certain if they were recovering, or if this was some new cruelty Kevin devised. She sniffed the glass, inhaling the rich aroma of the shiraz, one of her favorites. She tested it, swirling the small taste in her mouth, then swallowed it down. It was delicious, as usual. With a sigh, Diane returned the note to the counter and slipped out of her heels on the way to the living room, settling on the couch and crossing her legs.
The week began with an ex-love of Diane’s, a silly young boy with an enviable body, who she had casually discarded. With her long, dark hair, delicate features and trim body, even in her thirties she was able to turn the eye of any man, regardless of his age. She dressed tastefully, but with an eye toward exposing her long legs, and giving a hint of her cleavage. A woman’s power often came from her sexuality, and Diane was not above using her assets to her advantage.
The past five years of their nine-year marriage had given ample opportunity for Diane to explore relationships outside of her marriage. Kevin was a brilliant man, an attractive man, but he was also driven by his ambition to pursue his projects at the big pharma company with an intensity that forbade his attention elsewhere, including Diane’s happiness. Never one to be ignored, Diane found solace in the arms of other men, none she held onto for very long, but this little twit she had recently had her dalliance with was too vain to let her go. Or too dumb to understand the arrangement. He had sent an anonymous message to Kevin when Diane ended things, complete with a description of a birthmark only knowable by those intimate with Diane’s body. The little shit had almost done her in, but she had twisted the situation into revealing Kevin’s apparent disinterest in her, and she bought herself some time. She had no interest in leaving her husband, especially when the brilliant scientist had intimated that he was close to a discovery that would leave them both quite wealthy. Maybe then she would leave him, when the alimony would support her nicely.
Diane finished the glass of wine, swinging it loosely between two fingers. In her beige silk top and black skirt, she looked cold and seductive, and she planned to hold this position until Kevin returned home. She wanted his first reaction to her to be desire, a reminder what he would lose if he discarded her the way she had the dim college student with the nice abs and ready cock. This generation, she mused, too selfish to understand a little discretion.
She considered going for another glass of wine, but her head was already buzzing from the first, unusual considering she normally had at least one glass with dinner with no discernible effects. This, though, was causing her to squint to keep the room from spinning. The now-empty glass slipped from her red-polished fingers and bounced onto the cream-colored carpet, rolling as it settled to a stop. Diane’s head was in her hands, wave after wave of intermittent nausea and chills wracking her body. She unconsciously slipped to the floor, onto her hands and knees, trying to gain her bearings as the world seemed to be tumbling away from her.
“What did you do to me?” she asked, knowing full well Kevin was behind this. Maybe he’d poisoned her, not the most understanding of responses to her infidelity, but she at least understood that. When the nausea passed, and she was left panting on all fours, her doubts returned. If anything, Kevin was careful and deliberate. If he’d poisoned her, she would be dead now, that was certain. If not poison, what had Kevin done to her?
Though the nausea had passed, she was aching all over, her joints inflamed, her bones, down to their marrow, aching. She tried to lift herself up and found that her hips were too stiff to allow her to rise, so she settled back onto her hands and knees, trying to sort out what could have been done to her. It had to be something special, knowing Kevin. Something he had been working on in his lab, maybe, something that made her crawl on all fours like an animal. That would be his kind of justice.
Unable to bend back enough to stand, Diane crawled onto the couch where she lay on her side, unbuttoning the expensive blouse to relieve some of the heat that threatened to consume her. She heard a pop and tear and looked down to see a ragged rip in the silk just above her breast where she had attempted to unbutton herself.
“Wha-?” she managed, but the rest of the word was swallowed up by her throat, that seemed to close on the consonants. Her tongue, too, was rough inside her mouth, too large and wide.
Her brows lifted as she saw the cause of the ragged rip of her top, holding her hand before her eyes. The nails had grown, the red polish now accounting for only half the length, the rest the pale, opaque color of her nails before they were painted. Not only were they long, but they appeared to curve at the midpoint, forming something closer to claws than nails. She flexed her fingers, wiggling the claws before her, gasping at the way they seemed to retract and extend based on the movement of her fingers, which had grown stiff and difficult to move independently.
Her back arched suddenly as a sharp pain struck her at the base of her spine, and she reached behind her, ripping at the tight black skirt, feeling it shred under her nails and fall away from her, revealing the lacy black thong beneath. A look behind her showed her a fleshy protrusion extending from her tail bone, nearly a foot long and growing, the color of it the same as her skin, pale, but with slightly darker spots along the length of it.
“Owww!” she cried out, an unfamiliar hollowness to the sound coming from her throat. The pain finally subsided, but only after the tail, for that is certainly what it was, grew to nearly three feet, swaying with its own musculature, parallel to her spine, the tip flicking left to right and back again.
The door opened behind her, and Diane heard the key enter the lock like it was a thunderclap, and the scent alone told her it was Kevin at the door. She wondered for a moment how she knew this so certainly, but then her thoughts grew muddy and difficult to parse. She knew it was Kevin because of his smell, and she knew he took care of her, and that was all that was important. He was smiling when he entered, and Diane scurried from the couch, crawling to him as he dappled tail swung affectionately, lifting and forming a curl at the tip. her blouse hng around her shoulders and Diane paused to claw it away, shredding it into three pieces that fell behind her as she continued her movement, languid and sensual.
Kevin closed the door behind him, locking it, placing the box tucked under his arm on the floor by his feet. He bent to stroke the dark hair of his wife, taking time to rub her elongated ears between his thumb and forefinger, then down her back, unclasping the bra and helping her out of it, along with her thong which hung in tatters already. Now that she was nude, Kevin could see the fine fur that covered her, giving her soft spots along her sides and tail.
The genetic cocktail he’d prepared for her had done wonders, more than he could have hoped, fusing his wife’s genetic makeup with that of a common feline – a housecat. A few subtle tweaks and he ensured that her exposed pussy was now glistening with need, too. She rubbed up against his calf as he pet her, mewling happily, eyes slitted, looking up at him with adoration. She was perfectly compliant, a pet that would never stray. If his wife preferred catting around behind his back – well, sometimes a literal revenge was appropriate. And he was unwilling to give up this beautiful body completely. In fact, now it was better.
“How’s my sweet kitty?” he asked, enjoying the rumble of her deep purr. He bent, opening the box at his side, and removed the black studded collar from within. She fought the collar at first, pawing at it with her fused fingers, then forgot about it as his hand roamed the length of her back. He moved to the bedroom, and she crawled after, her sex wet and ready for her master’s attention.
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