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{{WIP}} [[Category:Jon Buck]] [[Category:Paradise]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] {{DEFAULTSORT:My Little Flower}} | {{WIP}} [[Category:Jon Buck]] [[Category:Paradise]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] {{DEFAULTSORT:My Little Flower}} | ||
{{author note|I'm not sure I like the title here, it feels a little too cloying, so it's provisional. Remember, as WIP, '''the whole text is in flux.''' --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 03:21, 25 February 2008 (EST)}} | |||
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|name=My Little Flower | |name=My Little Flower | ||
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August 17, 2008 | ''August 17, 2008'' | ||
{{dropcap|H}}olly snarled at the gas pump as she filled the tank on her Honda Odyssey minivan. "Four effing thirty a gallon! That's outrageous!" She thought that all those oil discoveries and that new wastewater process was supposed to make gasoline cheaper! ''So what the hell is this?'' | |||
OPEC had panicked, cutting oil production so much that it drove prices close to $150 per barrel, trying to milk it for all it was worth before the new American and Canadian cheap stuff hit the streets. The vixen felt like rending those sheiks limb-from-limb! She drummed her claws on the rear window, covering her muzzle to keep out the stinging reek of the gasoline from her sensitive nose. | OPEC had panicked, cutting oil production so much that it drove prices close to $150 per barrel, trying to milk it for all it was worth before the new American and Canadian cheap stuff hit the streets. The vixen felt like rending those sheiks limb-from-limb! She drummed her claws on the rear window, covering her muzzle to keep out the stinging reek of the gasoline from her sensitive nose. | ||
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"If you can call ''this'' okay!" she exclaimed, panic rising again. But the post-Change endorphin rush put a lid on it. For a lot of new furs it was impossible to feel bad the first few hours. Going from being so sick to suddenly being so well was quite an unnatural high. The doe folded her ears back. "Open the door if you'd like, um, Holly. The passenger side. I think I've wedged my behind in a bad spot. Is that a ''tail'' I feel?" | "If you can call ''this'' okay!" she exclaimed, panic rising again. But the post-Change endorphin rush put a lid on it. For a lot of new furs it was impossible to feel bad the first few hours. Going from being so sick to suddenly being so well was quite an unnatural high. The doe folded her ears back. "Open the door if you'd like, um, Holly. The passenger side. I think I've wedged my behind in a bad spot. Is that a ''tail'' I feel?" | ||
{{Separator|r}} | |||
It took half an hour for the two truck to come, and during that time Holly filled Elise in on all the basics, interrupted only by Roxanne's hungry bawling. The baby made Elise stare even more than the changes to herself. "I don't understand this at all," the doe said, unable to keep her altered hands off of her changed anatomy. | |||
Holly draped a nursing blanket over her shoulder, then pulled up her top. She wasn't wearing more than a token bra, just enough to absorb any milk she might be leaking. It was time to feed the baby anyway. She shifted in the minivan's empty back seat opposite the highway as Roxanne found her nipple and started suckling. She draped the blanket over the infant's head for some privacy. "Get used to it. A million more today, two million next year. Things are starting to accelerate..." | |||
Despite having been told about the RDF over and over again, Elise still hid from the two truck driver when he arrived. She only poked her ears out of the minivan after it was obvious he didn't see anything amiss. "She's a little skittish after the accident. I think she ran through a patch of oil or something," Holly explained. | |||
The tow tuck driver was a cleanshaven man in his mid-twenties. As always, he looked at her with obvious attraction, despite having her having gained ten pounds after her pregnancy. "Can't blame her. I think she knocked something loose after she went off the highway, too. See that oil slick?" He pointed out a long, black smear that started at the highway's edge and went all the way to where the Escort had come to a stop. "You knocked off your oil pan. You hurt, Miss?" | |||
"I'm fine! I'm just... out of sorts," Elise replied, looking askance at Holly. "Dr. West here checked me out. I'm... I'm fine." | |||
"If you say so. I'll pull the car out. Only take a few minutes with a winch. Let me get your insurance card." | |||
As the man made good on his word, the doe sidled up to the vixen. Roxanne was sleeping now, her spotty tail swishing lazily beneath her mother's forearm. "You're right. He can't see us at all," Elise said. | |||
"Right. So, before you were interrupted, where were you headed? Perhaps I can help?" | |||
Now the new doe started getting upset again. "Portland. I'm.. supposed to be a bridesmaid. It's my younger sister's wedding, you see. And I'm already leaving a day later than I planned. Damned flu! And that car was on its last legs anyway. I don't have the time to get it fixed, or the money for a flight. Even at these outrageous gas prices." | |||
The vixen carefully scratched her muzzle thoughtfully, switching sides so Roxanne got fed from both breasts. Next time, it was the lowers' turn. ''I could do without having four tits, thank you.'' The lower set of breastlets had only become slightly swollen after she gave birth, more like a normal vixen's milk glands would. But the uppers were essentially human-normal. ''I bareley know this woman. But I'm not going to leave her in the lurch.'' | |||
"Don't worry, Elise. I have a proposal for you." | |||
{{Separator|r|Work in Progress}} | {{Separator|r|Work in Progress}} | ||
Revision as of 03:21, 25 February 2008
| This story is a work in progress. |
{{#ifeq:User|Help||}}
I'm not sure I like the title here, it feels a little too cloying, so it's provisional. Remember, as WIP, the whole text is in flux. --Buck 03:21, 25 February 2008 (EST)
{{#ifeq: User |User| My Little Flower | My Little Flower}}[[Title::{{#ifeq: User |User| My Little Flower | My Little Flower}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Jon Buck | Jon Buck}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}} | ||
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}} | |
Author: {{#ifeq: User |User| Jon Buck | Jon Buck}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Jon Buck | Jon Buck}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Jon Buck | Jon Buck}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Jon Buck | Jon Buck}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}} | | Authors: ' |
Authors: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}}]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}} | |
Authors: {{#ifeq: User |User| Jon Buck | Jon Buck}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| JonBuck | JonBuck}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Jon Buck | Jon Buck}}]]
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}} {{#if:| — see [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}
August 17, 2008
Holly snarled at the gas pump as she filled the tank on her Honda Odyssey minivan. "Four effing thirty a gallon! That's outrageous!" She thought that all those oil discoveries and that new wastewater process was supposed to make gasoline cheaper! So what the hell is this?
OPEC had panicked, cutting oil production so much that it drove prices close to $150 per barrel, trying to milk it for all it was worth before the new American and Canadian cheap stuff hit the streets. The vixen felt like rending those sheiks limb-from-limb! She drummed her claws on the rear window, covering her muzzle to keep out the stinging reek of the gasoline from her sensitive nose.
Holly yawned, checking her watch. Barely six in the morning, but summer traffic in the Monterey area could become a slow gridlock on Highway 1. From her home in Carmel Valley her first stop was all the way in Gilroy, the so-called Garlic Capital of the World, to visit another fur for a needed checkup. Once the tank was full she checked to ensure the ultrasound equipment was still secure behind the rearmost seat, before a mewing cry made her yank the tailgate closed. The vixen moved swiftly, opening and closing the sliding side door behind her.
It was only a moment, but her three month old baby had woken. Dr. Holly West double checked to make sure nobody was looking, then uncovered the child in her secured bassinet made for vehicles. "And how is my little kitten?" she cooed, sniffing. At least she didn't need changing.
The infant anthropomorphic cheetah regarded her mother with a studious feline smugness. She took after her father, as far as species was concerned. She had that fuzzy kitten look to boot, with the dark tracks down her cute little muzzle. She was pudgy like a human baby, but those little claws were quite sharp and needed frequent clipping. There was not a hint of fox in her, but Holly was so relieved just to have a healthy baby she didn't care. There was only one problem.
Unlike her mother, little Roxanne had no human past. Her human ghost was tenuous at best, confirmed by some of the Friends she had. While the image of a human infant was there, anybody who touched her felt the fur, the tail, the muzzle, the ears. They saw human, but felt the cheetah. So just in case, Holly kept her out of sight out in public.
Unfortunately leaving her at home for this trip was not an option. The baby needed nursing, and she couldn’t pump enough milk to keep her fed for the ten days she'd allotted for this trip to Seattle to check up on other pregnant furs, and in some cases other babies. She'd already postponed the trip several times, but even though Change Day was here it could no longer wait.
She checked her Blackberry. She'd rushed out the door so fast there were quite a few emails on the PregFurs list she hadn't yet read. It'd just have to wait for the next stop. Holly nuzzled her snoozing baby one last time, hopped in the driver's seat, then headed northward.
Traffic moved at a sedate pace, but she got to Highway 68 to Salinas at a decent speed. She reached Highway 101 at about the time the Change had hit her two years ago. Holly started looking at the other drivers around her on the off chance one of them...
"Oh, crap!" Holly swore. The highway was nearly empty, and in the mist she watched an old Ford Escort go off into the dry grass and only miss running into a highway sign by sheer luck. The red vixen stopped as quickly as she dared, but on a hunch, didn't call it in just yet. She reached the car only ninety seconds after the accident.
Frightened doe eyes looked back. She was right in the middle of the "American Werewolf" change, as someone had called it years ago. The special effects in that movie had turned out prescient. Watching someone get a muzzle of any kind was a strange sight indeed. Holly double-checked to make sure this wasn't one of those gender-changed victims. But there was no sign of antlers, and she was obviously not wearing anything unisex. Not in that top.
"Muwaooow!" she bleated in panic, fumbling for the door handle with fusing fingers. "Holy shit!"
"Calm down! Don't panic!" Holly said. The doe-woman scooted across the center console to the passenger seat, torn between her own transformation and the predatory apparition in the fog. "You're fine! Just go with it."
She was hyperventilating, putting herself into even more of a panic. Holly didn't care about species at the moment, but knew the first few hours for new deer tended to be anxious ones. Rodents and lapines were even worse.
She finally decided that her own changes were more important than the vixen outside. She stared at her hands, wiggling her cloven hoof-like fingers, an expression of surreal disbelief on her face. In that pool of calm beyond panic. "Oh. oh my. Oh my God. My face! My hands! Your face!"
"I'm Holly West," she said. "Can I open the door?"
"Elise... um... Elise Rosenberg," she stammered. Her shoes had vanished, and now she was staring at her feet sticking out from under her skirt. "Am I some kind of demon?"
"Hardly," Holly replied with a chuckle. She flicked her ears back, listening to see if the baby had awakened. "You're a deer of some kind. Are you feeling okay? You're not injured?"
"If you can call this okay!" she exclaimed, panic rising again. But the post-Change endorphin rush put a lid on it. For a lot of new furs it was impossible to feel bad the first few hours. Going from being so sick to suddenly being so well was quite an unnatural high. The doe folded her ears back. "Open the door if you'd like, um, Holly. The passenger side. I think I've wedged my behind in a bad spot. Is that a tail I feel?"
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It took half an hour for the two truck to come, and during that time Holly filled Elise in on all the basics, interrupted only by Roxanne's hungry bawling. The baby made Elise stare even more than the changes to herself. "I don't understand this at all," the doe said, unable to keep her altered hands off of her changed anatomy.
Holly draped a nursing blanket over her shoulder, then pulled up her top. She wasn't wearing more than a token bra, just enough to absorb any milk she might be leaking. It was time to feed the baby anyway. She shifted in the minivan's empty back seat opposite the highway as Roxanne found her nipple and started suckling. She draped the blanket over the infant's head for some privacy. "Get used to it. A million more today, two million next year. Things are starting to accelerate..."
Despite having been told about the RDF over and over again, Elise still hid from the two truck driver when he arrived. She only poked her ears out of the minivan after it was obvious he didn't see anything amiss. "She's a little skittish after the accident. I think she ran through a patch of oil or something," Holly explained.
The tow tuck driver was a cleanshaven man in his mid-twenties. As always, he looked at her with obvious attraction, despite having her having gained ten pounds after her pregnancy. "Can't blame her. I think she knocked something loose after she went off the highway, too. See that oil slick?" He pointed out a long, black smear that started at the highway's edge and went all the way to where the Escort had come to a stop. "You knocked off your oil pan. You hurt, Miss?"
"I'm fine! I'm just... out of sorts," Elise replied, looking askance at Holly. "Dr. West here checked me out. I'm... I'm fine."
"If you say so. I'll pull the car out. Only take a few minutes with a winch. Let me get your insurance card."
As the man made good on his word, the doe sidled up to the vixen. Roxanne was sleeping now, her spotty tail swishing lazily beneath her mother's forearm. "You're right. He can't see us at all," Elise said.
"Right. So, before you were interrupted, where were you headed? Perhaps I can help?"
Now the new doe started getting upset again. "Portland. I'm.. supposed to be a bridesmaid. It's my younger sister's wedding, you see. And I'm already leaving a day later than I planned. Damned flu! And that car was on its last legs anyway. I don't have the time to get it fixed, or the money for a flight. Even at these outrageous gas prices."
The vixen carefully scratched her muzzle thoughtfully, switching sides so Roxanne got fed from both breasts. Next time, it was the lowers' turn. I could do without having four tits, thank you. The lower set of breastlets had only become slightly swollen after she gave birth, more like a normal vixen's milk glands would. But the uppers were essentially human-normal. I bareley know this woman. But I'm not going to leave her in the lurch.
"Don't worry, Elise. I have a proposal for you."
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