The Socks by Fedreda

Lola Trent
When he saw that name on the package, his heart soared. Lola and Richard had been seeing each other for well over a year, but it never got serious between them; never had a chance to, as she had since moved out of town. They still wrote each other all the time, though. He was glad she never dropped out entirely, but he wasn't satisfied. There was an itch that correspondence alone could not scratch, so one could forgive him for not telling her everything. He took the package in and shucked it of its manila-brown wrapping, revealing a handsome little black box with an envelope taped to it, signed with Lola’s perfect cursive signature.
Richard wasted no time in tearing the envelope open.  With hands made clumsy by excitement, he unfolded the letter.
 
Richard.
When you get this, I’ll be stopping over soon.  I really hope you like the gift. I picked them out just for you.
I hope to see you with them on when I get there.
XOXO Lola.
At the foot of the letter was a drawing of a little smiling cat face.  What was in the box that she wanted him to wear? He blushed at some of the thoughts that went through his head. He took it and gently lifted the cover off.
Toe socks.
Inside the box was a pair of coffee-colored knee-length toe socks, he lifted them up and felt the fabric between thumb and index finger. It was high-quality stuff; soft as can be but thick and very stretchy. They were so finely made that he couldn’t even see the weave of the fabric, just a solid plane of what he assumed was a spandex nylon blend. He took off his sandals and plopped down on the bed, pulling them on slowly, relishing the sensation of the smooth, slinky cloth gliding over his skin. The fit was perfect; they slid on smooth as water and covered his feet up to like a second skin. He couldn’t even see any seams. They had to have been tailored, raising the question of how Lola got his measurements. He lay back on the mattress and admired his feet in the socks.
It was never his thing, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it, he wiggled and flexed his toes, enjoying the caress of the smooth fabric, the warmth.  Maybe it was Lola’s thing. That made sense.
He shifted around to the side of the bed to stand up. The socks each had a ring of creamy white just above the knee that he hadn’t noticed before. The color combination really charmed him for some reason. Cream on dark brown, so cute. He pondered for a moment on what he should do to pass the time until Lola showed up. He ran a hand through his corn silk colored hair.
“My hair’s a mess. Need to look good for the date.” A part of him wanted to yell at himself for assuming it was a date, but why else would she stop over after so long. He wondered if he was going to have enough time to hide his address book.
He peeled off his shirt and threw it on the floor, then he climbed out of his jeans and headed off for the bathroom in his botxers. He didn’t remember it being so hot; he also didn’t remember the socks being thigh-length… The bathroom reeked of artificial orange scent. He ran water over his hands and tried to straighten his hair out, to no avail. He tried again with some spit in his hands; he groomed and primped and pawed at his hair single-mindedly until it was close enough to the way he wanted… Then he noticed that the stubble from last night had vanished, leaving his oval-shaped face perfectly smooth, almost feminine in its hairlessness. This was unusual but welcome, as he didn’t feel like shaving anyway.
He reached down to scratch his butt to find it covered in fabric. He did a double take; the socks had become a pair of tights, dark brown up to the knees, and cream for everything above. He broke out into a wide grin when he discovered this; it felt so good, so warm on him. His heart skipped a beat, he found it hard to breath as he  turned and gazed at his rump in the mirror; it had definitely grown.

A nervous giggle escaped his throat, shaking his buttocks side to side as it filled out into a perfect peach shape. Whatever magic was at work flowed down from his hips into his legs, sculpting masculine angles into girlish curves; he couldn't resist touching and stroking his legs as the changes went on. He was so soft, so cuddly... He sat down on the linoleum floor, legs in the air as his toes filled out and became feline-looking paws, complete with claw sheathes and little pink pads on the soles.  He reached out and rubbed his new feet to be greeted with an electric sensation. They were so sensitive, so soft, feminine... The paw-pads felt like fine leather; soft, smooth, thick. He was taking deep, heavy breaths, he was almost scared of where this gift would take him, what it would turn him into.

His lower back started to ache, he bent forward and let out a strained moan of pain and pleasure as a long, fuzzy kitty tail pushed out of his backbone. When it was done, he forgot all about the pain, being entranced by the tail’s graceful swishing back and forth, independent of his hips. It was overwhelming. He was becoming brand new, his heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. With quivering hands he reached for the waistband of the tights to find that they simply merged into his skin, the fibers weaving into his skin in and out; merging with it, becoming it. His hands migrated down his crotch to find something missing, replaced with an organ much better suited for a lady like her. And his mind caught itself.

"Wait...I'm not a lady! What am I becoming? " He was answered by a half-formed 'meowww' that escaped his lips. 

"I'm becoming a cat? But it feels so..." He was almost afraid to admit it.

"It feels so right." He became acutely aware of all the times he felt isolated and uncomfortable as a man. His awkward teen phase, that one time he tried on his sister's panty-hose... He knew the memories were his, they felt like his at least, but something was dragging them in front of his mind's eye. Was this happening to sooth him into accepting it? was it some form of hypnosis? A voice... Lola's voice echoed throughout his mind.

"You're a girl. A cute kitty girl."

"Yes you are... Yes you are a cute kitty girl with a kitty tail and kitty paws..."

"But I'm a ma... I'm not a kitty... I'm..." 

He heard his own voice chime in against him.

"You're a kitty. Look at yourself You're a kitty cat."

"I'm a kitty cat?"

"Yes. Cute, fluffy, cuddly, kitty cat girl."

"Am I going to be alright?"

The duo of perfectly synchronized voices replied.

"Kitties are happy. You will be happy. Good kitty is happy kitty."

"I'm... I..."

"Is kitty cat happy right now?"

"Yes?"

"Is the kitty sure?"

He shook his head, this had to have been a dream, but it felt so real. There was no malice to be heard in the voices but he was still nervous. ... felt so good. So... correct.

"I don't know"

"Kitty is happy. She knows she is happy because she feels it. No thinking, just feeling."

"I think I'm happy."

"No thinking, kitty cat. A good kitty cat doesn't think if she don't need to."

"Why is this happening?"

"Is kitty unhappy?"

"I'm not...Kitty is not unhappy, kitty just wants to know."

"Good kitty does not ask questions unless she wants to know. Does kitty want to know, for real?"

"Kitty doesn't know."

"Why doesn't kitty know if she wants to know?"

"Kitty is confused. What is happening to Kitty?"

"Good kitty cat is obedient kitty cat. obedience makes kitty happy.Kitty wants to be surprised. Does kitty obey?"

"Yes."

"Kitty did not answer right."

"Kitty obeys."

"Is kitty sure she obeys?"

"You're right... Kitty is obedient... Kitty...happy."

"Again."

"Kitty is happy."

"Is kitty good?"

"Kitty will always be good."

"Does kitty obey?"

"A good kitty obeys. Kitty is good."

And like a daydream she snapped out of it. A wave of excitement washed over her consciousness, the pleasure of the transformations, the softness and the fear mingled into a cocktail of new emotions. She stood in front of the mirror, watching the fibers travel up, up. She debated with herself over pronouns, he was going to miss being a he, maybe? But the word 'she', 'her'... they felt so good... so proper. He left the bathroom, tail held high, the cloth had reached his belly. With every step, it pushed the doughy gut he once was ashamed of into a toned runner’s physique. By the time she... no he settled down on the couch in the den, the fabric was over his chest. He.. no, she... no no, he heard the voices again.

"Kitty is learning so fast. She is a good kitty."

"But Kitty... Kitty is a boy."

"Now Kitty is being silly, she is not a boy. Kitty cats know if they're not boys and kitty knows she isn't a boy."

"Kitty isn't..."

"Kitty is correct, she is not a boy. She is a good little obedient girl. Is kitty a boy?"

"No."

"Kitty was not understood, did Kitty say she was a boy?"

"Kitty is not a boy."

"What is kitty then?"

"Kitty is a girl."
There was a little pain as her shoulders took on a better, more feminine shape, but nothing worth caring about. Especially not with how amazing the fabric felt, like a full-body hug that got snugger as it traveled. She leaned back over the arm of the couch, purring as a pair of breasts blossomed out of his chest, growing into just the right size, just the right shape. He watched his hands get coated; cream fibers turning dark brown just below the elbows, her hands became softer, nails sharpened and sank into sheaths like the ones for his toe claws. Pink, heart shaped pads grew out of her palms. She spent a little while playing with her new hands, drawing claws in and out in and out. She did a couple mock-slashes at the air, making a cutesy little growl. She could feel the fibers at his neck and rising; he coughed and cleared his throat to hear her new voice. Her soft, pretty little voice…

"Kitty will meow now."

"What?"

"Kitty is not obedient. Kitty will meow now."

She opened her mouth and out came a soft, pitiful little mewing.

"Obedient kitty is good kitty. Good kitty is happy kitty. Kitty will meow louder."

She mewed some more, her voice cracking.

"Kitty will meow even louder."

She took a deep breath, threw back her head, and YOWLED so mightily that the pictures on the wall shook on their hangings. It was on her face now, racing upwards. Her jaw crunched as it pulled into a little cat muzzle; teeth reforming into little fangs, whiskers sprouting from her upper lip. Her ears pulled themselves up, up and out into big dark brown kitty ears. She arched her back up as she let out another triumphant yowl as the transformation finished; she was now completely covered in the fibers, one with them.
She scanned her new body with her bright blue cat eyes. She was a Siamese, a perfect specimen of cat girl. Her senses took some getting used to, sounds were sharper and clearer, shapes were more distinct, everything brighter. She took a sniff of the air through her little pink nose, each smell was clear and distinct: dust, old carpet, human body scents…
She jumped up when she heard the door open.  In walked Rita, her red -haired beauty.
“How’s my kitty doing?” She said, scratching behind the newly minted cat girl’s ear.
She purred in response, words couldn’t convey the gratitude enough.
“You’re going to need a name. “ Rita said, looking her in the eye. “How does Rika sound?”
“I… It’s wonderful.” Rika mewled. “Thank you so much, Lola.”

" "Ah ahhh," Lola waggled her finger. "Kitties need to earn the right to use first names."

"I'm sorry... Thank you Mistress..." That felt like the right thing to say. 
“Good girl…” Lola continued petting her as Rika gave her a heartfelt purr.
"Now." Lola said, who does kitty love?"
"I love you." The cat girl mewed.

"Who?"

"Lola. Kitty loves Lola."

"I'm sorry, who does my kitty love?"

"I love my mistress."

" I love kitty too." Lola said, smiling.

She stopped, the smile faded into seriousness.

"Has kitty been naughty while mistress was out of town?"

The cat girl felt something clinch in her gut.

"A good kitty is honest" Lola said, her voice taking on a hint of impatience.

"Kitty is so sorry... I saw other people while mistress was away. I was lonely, I wanted more. All I could think of was you when I was with them!"

Lola leaned in closer to her.

"With who?"

"Kitty is so sorry! They were other women. They meant nothing. All I care about is you..."

"What were their names?"

"I... don't remember." 

Rika was sobbing, she had failed mistress.

" I wanted us to be something more, I wanted to be closer. You went away before I could say anything and I needed more than letters. The other girls were just replacements, I couldn't see them long because all I could think about was my mistress."

Rika was on her hands and knees prostrate before Lola, her ears curled back in fear at what mistress would do.

There was a horrible, tense period of silence.

"I understand."

Rika's tears stopped, tilting her head to the side.

"Mistress shouldn't have left her pet alone. I'm going to forgive you completely, know why?"

Rika replied with a single quizzical mew

"You know what you did was wrong. Even if you were unfaithful, you had your mistress in mind. You confessed without a fuss."

Lola took the Siamese by the neck, stroking her chin.

"You truly are a good, obedient kitty."

She gave the cat girl a little kiss on the forehead and stood up straight, all Rika could focus on was mistress's perfect posture, her beauty...

"Let's start over. I have another present for you." Lola said as she produced a black patent leather collar with an immaculately polished brass cat bell dangling from it. Rika's eyes zeroed in on the bell. It was so shiny.

Lola tenderly slid the collar around her pet's neck and clasped it nice and tight. She thumped the bell with her index finger and the tinny ringing
 made something click inside Rika's mind.

Rika stood there, waiting for mistress to give command.

"Sit." Lola said and Rika did obediently sit down on her knees.

"Roll over."  Lola commanded and Rika did roll a single full rotation on the floor, rising to her knees again.

Lola paused. There were so many things she could do, she had her little kitty slave all to herself.
"Now ." Rita said, her voice was like strings on a puppet, pulling the cat girl to rapt attention.

Lola kicked off one of her glossy red pumps.

"Sniff." She said as she thrust her stocking-clad foot in Rika's face.

The cat girl put her nose to the dark nylon and breathed in. It was intoxicating, the smell of the skin, the sweaty workday smell pouring out of the sheer fabric. Every drought of the smell that she breathed in became an imprint on her mind. This was how mistress smelled,the sensory picture was complete and she belonged to Lola. 

“On your back.”
Rika pulled away and flopped down on her back, paws in the air, tail curled around her right leg. Lola bent down and caressed the cat girl’s belly, the fabric had since taken on a velvety texture. Lola hummed a sweet song into the cat girl's ear as she pet her. 
“Aren’t you a soft kitty?” Lola cooed.
“Yes… Yes I am the softest kitty.” Rika said, purring like an engine.
“You know…” Lola said, still rubbing and petting Rika. “I was thinking of taking you back home with me, after today.”
Rika stopped purring, her eyes locked onto Lola’s own green eyes.
“Really? Then we can be together?”
“Forever. You will serve mistress forever, always being at her side.”

The cat girl’s eyes were misty. “I’ve waited so long to hear that.” Rika couldn't stop herself from purring as loud as she can. It was immodest, but it couldn't be helped. 
Lola got out a black leather leash and clasped it onto Rika’s collar. One tug of the leash brought the cat girl to a standing position, another tug and she was walking eagerly behind her las the two made their way to the bedroom.

Lola took off her remaining shoe and collapsed onto the bed. Rika knelt beside her; unable to look away.

"Mistress." Rika mewed.

"May... May I?" 

"Yes kitty. You may."

With a song in her heart, Rika jumped onto the bed and curled into a ball of softness at her mistress's feet. Sleep came to both of them right away.

 -----

It was a warm midday when they reached Lola's place. Lola flicked the lights on with Rika close behind, arms full of luggage. It was only natural for her to carry the things. Mistress did not need to bother with such trifles, that much was obvious to the cat girl.

Most of the luggage belong to Lola; clothes, books, computer equipment, so on... Rika herself had few things from her old home she cared to take. Even if she wanted them, none of her old clothes fit her slender body. She didn't need shoes, hated wearing them. Nevertheless she brought a few things that took her fancy, mostly books and cat toys.

Lola paced in the den, brow knit in thought. She held a fat paperback titled "Being a Better Business Owner." under her arm.

"Rika." She said. The cat girl's ears perked up.

"Do you think it's wrong for a store owner to use their own product?"

Rika puzzled over this.

"What do you think?" was the best reply she had.

"Good girl."

Lola lead her by her leash into the bedroom.  It was perfectly well-kept; clean salmon-colored carpet. Beige walls. apple scent in the air.

Without a word, Rika started unpacking, placing skirts, jeans, shirts, and other articles of clothing in their rightful places with loving care. It was such a simple task but it gave her no small amount of pleasure. Was there anything better than being useful for mistress?

When the clothes were sorted, she set the little box full of her own things at the foot of the closet, tracing the name, her name, written in magic marker on the side with a claw. She felt Lola scratch behind her ears, sending a ripple of bliss through her. 

"You didn't even need to be asked to do that. You're such a good girl."

" You never have to ask." was what she considered saying but the euphoria of receiving ear scritches stilled her tongue, only a deep thrumming purr got out.

Hours of work later, they had converted half the bedroom into a modest little home office. The both of them were tired, but proud.

Lola put her arm around the cat girl's waist, hand migrating down to stroke her tail.

"I think we've done enough for today." She said. "Come."

She went over to the bed, and motioned for Rika to lay down beside her. Rika did not disobey. 

Lola had her shoes off, her brilliant green eyes locked with Rika's.

" Let's make this a bit more interesting..." She said through a sly grin.

And Rika's heart sang as Lola got out a pair of tiger-print toe socks, the brilliant orange of which matched her hair impeccably.

"You're not about to have all the fun..." She said.

She slipped them on.

The Socks

Fedreda

30 September 2015 at 01:53:07 MDT

A guy gets a gift from a long-distance girlfriend. What he doesn't know yet is that the giving has just begun.

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