Sarah was hiding in an alley, naked, one arm covering her sizable breasts and the other covering her privates. She'd managed to get to the alley in a mad dash without attracting attention, but now there were too many people milling about to get anywhere without being noticed, and she was NOT giving the world a free show of her most valued assets. Besides, she was still too shocked to be any good at sneaking around. She'd kicked a cat, who'd suddenly become anthropomorphic and forcibly stripped her of her clothes and posessions; if there was a way things could get any weirder, she didn't know what it was.
She was biting her nails, a nervous habit she'd suppressed years ago, during her rise to popularity, but which reemerged in times of extreme stress. All of a sudden, there was a sharp prick in one fingertip and a salty tang in her mouth. Examining the finger, she found she'd somehow drawn blood. She stuck her index finger in her mouth and ran it around her teeth, only to discover that her canines had become a little longer and much sharper. As she pondered this, she suddenly began to shrink.
She barely suppressed a scream as the ground approached. When it stopped, she figured she couldn't have stood more than a foot tall. She was in a cold sweat now, and reached up a hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She abruptly froze as she discovered something poking up from under her hair. Looking around for a mirror, she spotted a mangled car-door mirror in a pile of junk a little ways down the alley. She ran toward it, wondering why her feet felt different. Upon arriving at the pile, she reached down to tilt the mirror up towards her head. She froze.
Her hand was covered in orange tabby fur, up to about midway up the forearm. Moreover, her fingernails had been replaced by retractable claws. Numbly, as if in a trance, she examined it further, finding that there were pink-skinned pads on the palm and the undersides of the fingers. Her suspicion aroused, she glanced down at her feet. They were full-fledged cat's paws now, the fur extending up to mid-shin. She grabbed the mirror and tilted it upwards. The things poking out from under her hair, it turned out, were her ears, which had relocated to the top of her head and become cat ears. Her hair, though still the same honey blonde, had become more of a disorderly mane than the nice straight, styled mass it had been.
She felt a tingling on her torso and dropped the mirror downwards, just in time to see stripes of fur grow across her body, spreading across her chest in artful patterns, covering up the objectionable bits of her breasts, while stripes further down did the same for her nether regions. Had Sarah been any kind of geek, she might have been reminded of a catgirl character in a certain fighting game, but she hadn't played video games since she was a little girl, long before she was the popular queen of the school. She dropped the mirror entirely as she felt a tugging at the base of her spine. By this point she was only a little surprised, upon reaching around back, to discover a cat's tail.
This was it, she thought. She was a catgirl. How could she ever be popular again? Even if she wasn't a tiny little creature only a foot tall, she'd still be a freak! Her carefully-constructed life was ruined, and she was sure it was that cat's fault! She didn't care who saw her, she decided; she was going to find that cat and make her pay.
