Fur You
Emily sat cross legged on her dorm room bed, surrounded by textbooks on quantum physics and a half eaten bowl of ramen. In just her second term, she was the epitome of a college nerd. Oversized glasses slipping down her nose, frizzy brown hair tied in a messy ponytail, and a wardrobe consisting mostly of thrift store hoodies and jeans that had seen better days. She was brilliant, top of her class in computer science, but socially awkward, more comfortable with algorithms than people.
So it was a surprise to find the package waiting for her one morning, a heavy box from her late Aunt Vivian’s estate. Aunt Vivian had been the family outlier. A glamorous socialite who’d married into old money, dripping in luxury and excess. Emily had only met her a handful of times, but she remembered the woman’s sharp tongue and the way she commanded rooms like a queen.
Inside the box was a note from the executor, “To my only niece Emily, my prized mink fur coat. May it bring out the queen in you.”
Emily wrinkled her nose as she pulled out the coat. It was exquisite, soft, glossy mink fur in a midnight black, lined with silk, and tailored to perfection. But to Emily, it was barbaric.
“Fur? In this day and age?” She muttered, her vegan principles flaring up. With a huff, she shoved it into the back of her tiny closet, burying it under a pile of old sweaters, promising to herself that she would donate it.
However as the weeks blurred into months and her work load tripled, she never got around to actually fishing it back out of the closet. Though her mind occasionally remembered it, especially as fall gave way to a brutal winter.
The campus was hit with record lows, and to make matters worse, the ancient heating system in Emily’s dorm crapped out during a snowstorm. Maintenance promised fixes “soon,” but “soon” turned into days of shivering under thin blankets. Emily’s fingers went numb typing essays, and she couldn’t focus on her studies with the cold seeping into her bones.
One particularly frigid night, desperate for relief, she rummaged through her closet. Her hand brushed against the soft fur. She hesitated, biting her lip.
“Just for tonight.” She whispered to herself, pulling it out. The coat was heavier than she remembered, enveloping her like a luxurious hug as she slipped it on over her pajamas. Warmth spread through her immediately, the fur trapping heat like nothing else. She sighed in reluctant bliss, sinking back onto her bed.
As she lay there, the coat’s opulence started to play tricks on her mind. Aunt Vivian’s image flashed before her, poised, ruthless, always getting her way. Emily jokingly imagined herself in that role. Not the shy bookworm, but a stunning heiress, dripping in diamonds, with long, silky hair and curves that turned heads. In her fantasy, she was wicked, spoiled rotten, striding through high society like a predator.
“Get out of my way, you pathetic little nobody.” She murmured aloud, testing the words, her voice low and sultry. She let a little nervous giggle escape her lips at act she was playing but deep down, the fantasy thrilled her. Men fawned, women envied, and anyone who crossed her was crushed. “I said now, you incompetent fool!” She snapped to an imaginary waiter, flicking her wrist as she pictured claiming the best table in a glittering restaurant.
The fantasy grew vivid, her heart racing. She imagined lounging in a penthouse, barking orders. “Do you know who I am? I get what I want, always.” She said aloud, smirking at her reflection in the dark window.
Heat built between her legs, unrelated to the coat’s warmth. Her hand slipped under her waistband, fingers teasing her clit as the images intensified. She gasped, circling slowly, picturing the heiress version of herself on silk sheets, a handsome but obedient man on his knees before her.
“Pleasure me, you worthless worm.” She whispered, her voice dripping with venom, the cruelty of it sending shivers of pleasure through her as she imagined the man’s tongue doing the work her fingers were now doing.
As her pleasure mounted, something strange happened. A tingle spread from her core, radiating outward like electricity. Her skin prickled under the fur, and her body began to shift. Her frizzy hair smoothed, lengthening into glossy platinum waves.
“What… oh god!” She cried out, pleasure mingling with confusion as strands curled around her face. Her vision blurred, then sharpened. Her eyes reshaping into piercing emerald green orbs. “Is this… the coat? Should I stop?” She whimpered, fingers faltering.
But the fantasy gripped her, making her slip further. “Kneel, or I’ll ruin you!” She imagined snarling at a rival, and the power of it was too intoxicating. “No… I shouldn’t… but I want… I need… more!” She moaned, fingers plunging deeper, embracing the rush.
She cried out louder as her modest breasts swelled, buttons popping free from her pajama top. “Yes! Oh fuck, yes!” She gasped, the sensation of her chest ripening into full, perky D-cups sending jolts of ecstasy through her.
Confusion turned to eagerness. She craved the power, the beauty. “Give me everything!” She demanded aloud, hips flaring into an hourglass curve. Her waist cinched, skin smoothing to flawless porcelain, freckles fading.
“Make me perfect!” She cried, voice huskier, lips plumping into a sultry pout. Her height stretched, legs toning into elegant limbs. “Make me a goddess!” She screamed, fingers moving frantically as pleasure and transformation intertwined.
The transformation fueled her arousal, a feedback loop of ecstasy. She arched her back, the fur coat now fitting like it was made for her. Her cries echoed in the dorm. “Yes! Transform me!” She moaned as waves of orgasm crashed over her, body convulsing while the changes locked in, even her pyjamas caught in the dark magic, transforming into some expensive lingerie.
Panting, Emily sat up, licking her fingers dry, savouring the taste of herself. She stood before the mirror, admiring the stranger staring back. Beautiful, wicked, unstoppable.
“Look at me.” She purred, tightening the fur coat around her tiny waist. As she adjusted the collar, her hands slipped into the deep pockets, brushing against something crisp. Frowning, she pulled out a cream colored envelope, sealed with a wax stamp and marked in elegant script, ‘Fur You’.
Her lips curled into a smirk as she read the letter inside.
My Darling Emily,
If you’re reading this, you’ve donned the coat and felt its dark magic. You’re no longer the timid worthless girl I barely knew. You’re a queen now and a queen requires only the best. My fortune is yours. My estate, my millions, properties, jewels, all of it, now belongs to you. Use it as I did, selfishly.
Yours in power,
Vivian
Emily’s breath caught, a wicked laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, Vivian, you absolute evil genius.” She clutched the letter, her mind racing with possibilities. Penthouse suites, private jets, entire empires at her feet.
“The world is mine.” With a sly smile, she plotted her first conquest, ready to trample anyone in her way, ready to become the heiress of her fantasies.
