You run your new paws across your newfound fur, delighting in the sensation. A soft purr rumbles in your throat as you continue to stroke your bulging belly. Your fur is a tawny brown, with darker tiger stripes running down your arms, legs, and back, and a much lighter shade over your belly and chest. Your tail flicks behind you happily.
The old crone steps up next to you and runs her hand down your well-padded back. “Well now dear… I’m glad you seem to like being my kitty. I know you’ll grow nice and fat under my care,” she says, shaking the vial of red pills for emphasis. You try pawing at them, but the lady pulls them out of your reach. “Now now, kitty only gets one if she’s been good… and that’s only if Kitty wants to stay with her dear old granny.”
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