I commissioned this series of images from embeo, who did a wonderful job for her very first transformation commission. I think you'll agree she's really good at them! Be sure to fav the original (and think about leaving her a nice comment or fully paid commission). All I did was write the story, so please be sure to give credit where credit is due.

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The Tale of Allison Barrus, Pt. 1

"Aaaand that's the game!" The Eastern College announcer drew out the pronouncement as the home run from their arch rivals Western State sent the softball into the stratosphere. Allison Barrus, the star of the Eastern team, was so livid in the outfield that she didn't even wait for the traditional end of game pageantry to march up to the umpire.

"That's impossible! They cheated!" she roared, looking down the length of her nose at him. Tall and statuesque, she towered over the squat umpire, and with her long dark hair (spilling out of her cap thanks to a stompy trip across the field) lit from behind by the setting sun and framing her olive features, she presented an intimidating appearance.

The umpire, who saw scarier women before breakfast at home as the father of triplets in high school and husband of a partner at a law firm, stood his ground. "You can't sheet a home run, sugar," he snapped, deliberately using a condescending term (correctly judging that Allie had always been the athletic type for whom "sugar" was an insult on par with "slut"). "She hit the ball, it went into orbit, the end. Go shake hands and sit down.

"They must have cheated!" Allie continued. Her pale blue eyes widened even further into a "death gaze" that had once routinely sent her parents into hiding and her sisters into the back yard. "I saw them at their training camp a month ago. They were worse than the Cubs! Epileptics having seizures hit balls better, and now you're telling me that in 30 days they're capable of that?"

"Yes," said the umpire. "Now quit being a bad sport and get out of my face. I have to pick up my girls from karate practice in time for the school dance."

"It's obvious they've been shooting up more than Sosa, McGuire, and--hell--Armstrong combined!" Allie continued, unwilling to step back even a micrometer. "You have to get blood samples, test them, and strip them of the win if there's even a single poppy seed in their piss!"

The umpire regarded the livid, statuesque giro before him. "I don't care how much they got your pretty black hair in a fuzz, kid," he said. "This is college softball, not MLB. They won, accept it, and vamoose before I lose my temper. Unlike your daddy, whining will not make me cancel the results, buy you a pony, or upgrade your prom dress."

Allie's eyes widened into the "death gaze" again--she could see it reflected in the umpire's eyes--and launched into a tirade against him, the Western State team, pharmaceutical companies, equipment manufacturers, St. Rita, St. Sebastian, and (why not?) Ganesh the Remover of Obstacles. Some of her teammates, seeing their star athlete and biggest liability going at it again, hung their heads or rolled their eyes. The Western State players could only listen slack-jawed to the torrent of abuse and obscenities.

When the umpire had enough, he looked at his watch and jerked his thumb at Allie. "Get off my field," he said. "You're looking at a suspension."

The Eastern College team avoided Allie in the locker room afterwards; the dents her fists left in the lockers were impressive, and took the janitors a week to pound out. Once she'd showered off and calmed down, the team captain approached her. "Don't worry about it," Allie said. "I'll get to the bottom of this, find out what they were doing, before the end of the series."

"Even with a suspension?"

"Just let him try to make that stick," Allie said, defiantly adjusting her towel.

The next game, Allie watched, slack-jawed, as the Western State team nailed run after run, with triples or better on half of their hits. If anything, they were even better than they'd been the first game of the series. Allie, used to being a big fish in the little pond of regional intercollegiate athletics, was livid and loudly declared to anyone who'd listen that the Western players were doped-up cheaters. While she was able to use her anger to make some impressive runs, letting the hate flow through her, the Eastern College team's performance was miserable once more. It was, in fact, their worst defeat since 1927.

Rather than make the mistake of arguing with the ref again, Allie instead appeared in the other team's locker room as the team was leaving. She cornered their last remaining player as she emerged from the showers: "Pretty good game today."

The opposing player started a bit and then grinned. "You bet," she said. "Our best ever."

Allie made a show of inspecting her nails, even though she didn't go in for girly things like manicures or polish. "I saw your training camp last month," she continued. "Not exactly your finest hour."

"Well, camp was a little rough," the other player allowed cautiously. "But we pulled it together. By the way, what are you doing in our locker room?"

"Pulled it together how?" Allie said, still pretending she cared what her fingernails looked like. "I'm curious. My team was looking worse than yours out there, after all."

"Oh, you know. We brought our best hustle, we followed through, we gave 110%," the other player said brightly. "No 'I' in team."

Suddenly, Allie burst into action like an uncoiling spring. She grabbed the other girl by her towel and pinned her against a row of lockers. "But there is an 'I' in 'winner,'" she hissed. "I know you've been doing something to win, and you're going to tell me what it is."

"Or else what?" the girl said defiantly, combing salon-fresh blonde hair out of her eyes. "Admit it, you've got nothing but a whole lot of anger issues."

"I've got this," said Allie. She shifted position, keeping the opposing player pinned with one arm while fishing something out of a pocket--an electric razor.

"You wouldn't," the other girl said, her eyes wide with fear.

"Better hope short hair is in this year," said Allie, casually tossing her long hair--her own pride and joy aside from softball--with a flip of her head. She flipped the razor on and brought it closer to the blonde's head.

The Western State player lasted until the first strand was cut, and then she cut the cut short with a wail: "All right, all right! P-please don't shave me."

"That's better," Allie said, still keeping the razor menacingly hovering over her opponent's tresses. "Now tell me: what have you been using? And if I hear one more cliche out of you, I'm taking your bangs."

"Okay, okay. The team's captain works for the university genetics lab. They're working on ways to use genes and hormones from animals to help people, and they came up with an extract that works like steroids only faster and undetectable in drug tests. From elephants. We've been taking those supplements all month."

"You have them now?" The buzzing of the electric razor underscored each syllable Allie spoke.

"Y-yeah."

"Give them to me."

"I can't! Coach keeps track of each-"

Allie sighed. "Want Coach to keep track of you by following the sounds of 'hey baldy?' Give them to me!"

"F-fine, fine!" Allie released her hold on the girl, who retrieved a bottle from her gym bag. "Each of these is one dose. Dissolve the capsule in a drink and then down the hatch. Works pretty fast, lasts a good long time."

"Is that it?" Allie's eyes glowed at the prospect, and she could feel a grin spreading across her features.

"Yeah, that's it," the girl said, squirming. "Now let me go."

Allie released her adversary and left the locker room, tossing the pill bottle to herself and chuckling--she was back on the road to being a big fish in a small pond once more. Moments later, another Western State player entered. "Who was that?" she said, cocking her head at Allie's retreating form. "And what's taking so long?"

"She practically choked me and gave me a Sinead O'Connor hairdo to get my bottle of afrotherium."

Her teammate's eyes widened. "What? You gave it to her? What were you thinking?"

"Oh, don't worry," the blonde Western State player said. She reached into her bag and produced a second bottle, labeled simiiformia. "I didn't give her the other half."

"Well, well," said her teammate. "She's in for an unpleasant surprise."

When she returned to the tiny apartment that her athletic scholarship let her afford, Allie debated what to do with the pills. There were easily enough for her whole team, but she also toyed with the idea of leaning on one of the nerds in the chemistry program to try and duplicate them--to give Eastern College the same edge that Western State was, at least until the supplement was inevitably declared illegal. Then again, all that could wait.

"I'll take some before bed," Allie said to herself. "See how it works, maybe get a little time as the sole superstar of the team. Then I'll let everyone else have a taste."

Allie slipped one of the pills into a mug of water and changed into her pajamas--a dark cotton tank top and flannel patterned slacks--while waiting for it to dissolve. It did so gradually, with the mixture eventually stabilizing as an off-grey viscous liquid that gave off a peculiar musky smell. She swirled it in the cup, relishing the fact that she'd gotten so far with sheer force of personality, and imagining hitting home runs out of the park during the next game.

"Well, bottoms up!" Allie said. She downed the entire cup of afrotherium in three large gulps and smacked her lips. It tasted a little odd, but definitely seemed to be having some effect, as there was a strange and pleasant warmth in her stomach. She went into the bathroom to brush up before bed and was just about to pick up her toothbrush when a sudden and intense pain stabbed her in the torso.

"Urk!" Allie gave out a strangled cry, and clutched at her chest, but the pain only intensified. She gritted her teeth; her pupils dilated and her eyes widened in an expression almost mockingly similar to the "death gaze" she'd tried to use on the umpire. A bright, painful throbbing began to accompany the pain, and her free hand instinctively clenched. The bottle hadn't said anything about pain; clearly something was wrong.

Continued in part 2.