User:Leasara/Drawing Conclusions
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{{#ifeq: User |User| Drawing Conclusions | Drawing Conclusions}}[[Title::{{#ifeq: User |User| Drawing Conclusions | Drawing Conclusions}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}} | ||
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}} | |
Author: {{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}} | | Authors: ' |
Authors: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}} | |
Authors: {{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}}]]
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}} {{#if:| — see [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}
John eased into his desk chair, breaking the seal on a new set of colored pencils. He loved the scent of wood and wax that spread through his workspace as he lined them up in their little holder that ran along the side of the drafting table. He had a good idea of what he would be drawing, a jaguar warrior holding a spear while crouched in a tree, but the image in his mind kept moving, even his fur patterns refused to settle. As he continued to line up his pencils then set out his erasers, the little ritual of getting everything in place helped crystallize the warrior's form. Taking the non-photo blue in hand, he began roughing in the shape.
He had never been able to come up with a solid image and draw it, instead he would get an overall idea of what he wanted to do and let the details sort themselves out as he went. This gave his style a loose appearance, since everything was apt to change in the process, but also instilled his drawings with a feeling of their own life. His warrior didn't seem to want to crouch today, so he was standing instead, holding onto a higher branch, most likely. The branch wasn't behaving either, it was too regular, maybe it was the door frame of a hut then. As the sketch progressed the hut had somehow become an apartment, in fact, it was starting to resemble his own place. The warrior had a rather lusty look about him leaning on the door frame, and his loincloth turned out to be a pair of boxer shorts.
It had been a while since he had drawn anything overtly erotic, and then it had almost always started with a female character. Holding his pencil under his lip for a moment, he sat back and considered what was already on the page. The sketch itself was more or less ready for inking, but the composition seemed off. The warrior was obviously looking forward to an evening with a companion, but she was missing from the frame. There were a number of places she could go, sitting at his desk chair or reclined on the sofa against the wall. Maybe standing in the arch that lead to the kitchen. Thinking of the kitchen, he decided to make a sandwich and mull over the problem of her placement.
He flopped onto the couch across the room from his desk to eat taking better stock of the space. At his desk, she would have to be facing away from the viewer, which might work rather well. She could be sitting sideways in the chair with one arm on its back and the other on the desk, her legs leaning to one side, crossed at the ankles. Might be a little too much of a cheesecake pin-up shot though. In the kitchen arch, the warrior wouldn't be able to see her after all, and having them both standing wouldn't look right anyway. The couch's end was almost exactly opposite the doorway his warrior occupied in the sketch. Finishing his sandwich, he leaned over, approximating where she would be. They would both have an nice view of each other.
She would be a lighter cat, something sleeker, like a cheetah. Her toned muscles lending more curves to her curves. Of course, if she had her head on the other end of the sofa, he shifted to get a better idea of the pose, he might have to redraw the wall a bit but the shot could be from her point of view. He could almost see it, her bust at the bottom of the page, framing her tail drooping over her hip and maintaining some of her modesty. Her hands playing with the tip of the tail while below them her legs lay lightly on the far cushion, and her lover standing in the door right where the-
He blinked a moment and rubbed his eyes before looking to the doorway again. There stood the sketch of his warrior, quickly gaining definition. He heard himself giggle nervously as he glanced back to the sheet on his drafting table, and as near as he could tell from across the room, there was more color than there ought to be on the page. Trying to rise from the couch to get a better look, he seemed to be bound by some invisible force. Desperately he tried to call out for help, to get the attention of one of his neighbors, but no one answered his cry.
The jaguar before him had been done in flat colors, and now his spots were drawing and redrawing themselves. They finally came to rest, and the figure received a quick shading job. Shadow played over his form, and it was like watching someone motionlessly step through the fifth dimension and it taking a moment for the new environment's light to figure out how to land on him. The spectacle of his character coming off of the page had stilled John, and he watched quietly. The cat in the doorway achieved a level of realism that photo manipulation artists try to achieve before it started breathing. Slowly a new scent mingled with the smell of acrylics and brush cleaner that wafted through the door. He smelled almost exactly like the lion cages at the zoo if you could filter out the wet cement and popcorn.
John had always considered himself bi-curious. In his twenty three years he had been excited by men on six occasions before, though three of those had been his own drawings, but had never had the nerve to act on those urges. Tonight he questioned if he would have the option to refuse, and a chill ran down his back. Actually, it ran down his front too, and he wondered what had happened to his clothes. The warrior strode up next to him and sat by John's stomach. He began to trace one perfect claw across his chest, making figure-eights as his hand strayed towards John's belly. It felt very nice, maybe better than it ought to, and John was surprised to hear a low quiet rumble coming from somewhere under the top of his sternum.
The jaguar smiled down at John once he started purring. For his part, John didn't know what to make of things. His partner was a very attractive cat, but he had imagined a woman to be his mate. Answering his concerns, his warrior began to reposition him on the couch, closer approximating the final pose he had seen in his mind. A pair of moderate breasts soon graced his chest, their weight changing his purring slightly. They vibrated with every soft rumble in his chest, which only served to heighten his excitement. Being the starving artist type, he had been rather skinny, but still his waist drew in on itself, moving its mass lower on his frame. This was absurd. It couldn't be happening, he must have fallen asleep on his couch after the sandwich.
His apparent partner continued his ministrations, teasing and raising John's emotions and confusion. He began massaging John's thighs letting his thumbs stray close to his member, which was obstinately remaining soft in spit of the attentions it was receiving. In fact it began to sink under a rising mound of flesh that had already consumed the contents of his scrotum. His equipment was further altering its configuration to be more compatible with the warrior's growing weapon, and the most John could do to complain about the situation was a series of soft mewing gasps between purrs. Fine hair began to sprout around her navel, slowly at first before rapidly spreading over her stomach and breasts, clearing any doubt that he was becoming the cheetah he had imagined for his jaguar. Under the wave of fur she gained the muscle tone he had always wanted but had never done anything about.
The fur was white on her belly and breasts bordered by a black stripe along her stomach then light gold on her sides where her spots started. Her warrior had finished her legs, now ending in a paw-like foot. As he took her around the waist, she could feel the claws on her toes extending as the digits wriggled seemingly of their own accord. He gently licked the top of her chest, as if to coax the fur further up her lightening frame. He nuzzled her neck in front of its advance and her nose began to push into view, partially obscuring the cat she had become. Her silent partner, she wished she had come up with a name for him, shifted a bit to reach her ears. She discovered she was free to move again, and found herself embracing the other cat as his hot breath slid over her ear heralding the arrival of his teeth. He was very careful as he pulled, first one, then the other ear to their final position and shape. Finally, one hand glided up her back to stroke her short brown hair. With each pas of his massive paws, it lengthened and lightened until it fell mid-way down her back in tawny curls.
She couldn't imagine what had caused this change, if it had happened at all and he wasn't just passed out in his apartment having feverish dreams after a bad tuna sandwich. Taking her mate's hand, she carefully rolled them both off the couch as she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Instead, she decided that whatever was the cause of all this, she was going to enjoy it tonight, and she followed the nameless warrior into her bedroom.