Not many folks consider Monday night prime time to be wandering around outside, but when you work an unusual schedule, sometimes you end up doing unusual things. Tonight finds a certain oversized ginger making his way through the park near home. He's just kind of strolling along, his head down as he thinks whatever it is comes to mind to himself. He isn't paying much attention to anything but moving along the path and wanting to get home. Dressed in his usual casual fare, a t-shirt and some black jeans that fit too loosely, he would be pretty unremarkable if not for the fact that he's head and shoulders taller than average.

As he passes by one of the more heavily forested areas of the park, there's a rustling in the bushes.  He stops, curious to see if it's some animal he can watch.  But the rustling grows more dramatic, like something - or somethings - much larger is in the leaves.  Before he can react beyond a slight nervousness, two pairs of hands shoot out and drag him into the forest.  He's normally able to outdo anyone who might try to restrain him, but there's two people and they have him off balance, and are keeping him unable to find his footing as they drag him across the root-warped forest floor.  His first reaction to being grabbed is to let out a yell and try to wrench himself away from his attackers' grasp, but he trips and stumbles as the pair of unidentified people along.  He can't even turn to get a good look at his attackers, though they do seem to be wearing velvet gloves which seems to stand out oddly amidst the situation.  Throughout all of it, he's trying to get enough footing to twist around and take a swing at them.  It isn't as though he's entirely easy to physically subdue.  Finally he's pushes to the ground on soft grass, and looking around, finds himself in a medium-sized clearing.  Standing up with a quickness he doesn't often show any longer, he glares as the pair of figures, clearly feminine, who are stalking around the edge of the clearing briskly, holding out sticks or rods that glint in the light, which seem to be emitting bright cyan smoke that pools on the ground.  The two of them meet in their paths around the clearing right behind the big ginger, and the odd... smoke beaming out of the objects in their hands certainly gives him pause.  Feeling hemmed in, he raises his fists. "Hey," he yells, tone and posture as confrontational as possible.

The figures, hooded and cloaked, pause, facing him.  The one on the left wears a black cloak with a silver clasp, the lining flaring purple now and then in the night breeze.  The one on the right wears a dark brown cloak with a gold clasp shaped like a crescent moon.  They turn their heads to each other for a moment, then as one, raise their gloved hands and draw back their hoods.

If the smoke gave him pause, their faces do more than anything.  They aren't human.  With animalistic, furred faces sporting pointed muzzles and wide pink ears, they look more like weasels than any primate he's ever seen.  The one on the left has a cascade of indigo hair, flopped halfway in her face, not quite hiding indigo eyes and black fur with a spiky-edged mask around the eyes in red and orange.  Her purple-painted lip is pulled tight in a toothy smirk.  The one on the right has spiky red hair, bangs falling down to frame her face, which is furred in white with a yellow-and-pale-orange mask, with bright pink eyes.  Her lip, done in black, is pouted outwards as if she were hurt by the show of aggression.  She speaks.

"Hello, stranger.  Welcome to our glade.  We saw you were in need of our assistance-"

"-and we brought you here, since you're too stupid to know what's good for you," cuts in the other.  The white-furred one smiles a little.

"I'm Candle, and this is my sister Inferno.  We can use our magic to help you-"

"-and we're going to whether you like it or not.  Because holy hell, do you need help.  Ugh."

Staring at the pair of them and pretty clearly preparing himself for a fight, he keeps his fists up. Even their surprisingly unusual appearance does not disarm that impulse. He's been accosted and he feels like he has to crank the masculinity and physical threat of his size up to maximum. "I don't know who or /what/ you are, but I don't need any help from anyone," he snarls. Their dramatic appearances have done quite a lot to add to the urgency he feels in the situation. There is something far from a casual mugging going on here and he knows it.

They glance at each other and Candle giggles, while Inferno smirks.  The dark ferret turns to the ginger, sneering out from under her heavy indigo hair.  She raises the stick he saw earlier - actually wand.  It's rough, dark wood, with a spiral burned into it, capped in silver at both ends with a chunk of amethyst embedded in the base.  "Tough shit, big guy.  Our divining turned your sorry ass up and we can't just let a pathetic situation like yours go unresolved.  Unless you LIKE looking like some sort of monstrosity that fell out of the giant ugly tree."  Her sneering commentary makes him scowl, his expression darkening further and his show of aggression certainly not being tamped down by that.

Candle titters and raises her wand as well - made of smooth, pale wood, inlaid with gold, with a small topaz in the base.  "You are more than you seem, stranger.  No true beast, but a gentle soul, feminine and sweet.  It would be terribly irresponsible and unjust of us to let you leave while still looking so.  Anyone deserves better than your lot."  Her comments, on the other hand, do more to redden his cheeks than redden his anger. Disarmed a bit by that, he keeps his fists clenched, but no longer stands like a would-be boxer.

There's a sort of hum rising in the air.  Out of the corner of his eye he sees the edge of the glade gently glowing blue in a line all around, where they jetted smoke from their wands before.  The glow seems to shimmer into the air above the ground, fading as it rises - but clearly marking a circle hemming you him.  If these two really do have some kind of magic - if magic was real - it seems like a poor choice to try and run headlong into that apparent wall.  "Look," he says, "I don't know what the hell is going on or what you two want, but..." He looks up and around as that glow shimmers, making it clear that the blue-glow does indeed have him trapped. "You can seriously cut it the fuck out."

Inferno smirks and shrugs out of her cloak.  There's an impression of all black - real goth get-up.  And a lot of leather.  And stiletto boots.  Not exactly made for walks in the woods.  Silver jewelry, too, including a solid silver choker set with a pentagram.  Wiccan?  Probably not your run-of-the-mill variety.  She extends her wand-hand slightly towards the tall ginger, making him flinch, then feel embarrassed for flinching from a pretty stick.  "We're going to cut YOU the fuck out - out of that shambling meat pile you call a body.  Or at least, we'll cut it down to size.  Try and show some fucking gratitude."

Candle smiles more gracefully and doffs her cloak as well, revealing a flowing mauve dress, much more sensible brown boots, and rather less jewelry than her companion - though hers is rose gold, glinting almost pink in the moonlight.  She extends her wand as well.  "Don't worry, we won't hurt you.  We're here to help.  Though my sister is right - you really could be a little more polite about all this."

Focusing on him, the sisters, apparently, begin to hum.  Candle's is sweet and musical, while Inferno's is deep and slightly off-key.  The hair on his arms and neck stands up and he can feel a prickling crackle growing in the air, like lightning is about to strike.

"Polite?! You dragged me around and... that's..." He shakes his head, all sputtering as he tries to deal with being chastised for being unhappy with having literally been assaulted and dragged into the woods. "What are you even talking about?" he demands, though with both of them pointing their... wands? at him and that crackling tingle in the air, he loses a little bit of his outraged steam. It is only becoming more apparent by the moment that this is really not normal. Unsurprisingly, he addresses Candle and not her darker counterpart. "Look hey, I'm not trying to be a dick, but what the hell is going on here? I mean, is this some kind of magic or... something?!"

Candle giggles.  "Of course it's magic!  What did you think it was, broccoli?"  She extends her wand fully towards him, nearly touching him.  Her sister does the same.  He can see now that what he mistook, mid-being-dragged-through-the-bushes, for velvet gloves, are actually their own furry hands.  Yellow and pale orange flame-like markings trace up Candle's white-furred arm, and similar red and orange markings trail along Inferno's black fur.  Their names seem to make sense, at least.

Candle smiles at him, pink eyes twinkling.  "Concentrate, now... feel the masculine energy flowing off of your form, feel yourself becoming what  you truly are!"

He looks down at her words.  "Wait, what?"

Inferno mimics her sister's higher voice, rather snidely.  "Feel the ugly flowing off your fat ass, feel yourself becoming something worth looking at!"

His more mellow response is slapped away by her much less... polite phrasing.  "Hey," he says, trying to use a warning tone, as if he had any control of the situation at all.  This seems rather woo-woo to him, but the air is crackling rather strongly, almost audibly, and he stumbles when he takes an unsure step backwards - because his weight has, indeed, shifted.  The pounds are melting off, his shirt quickly growing baggy and his jeans needing a grab of his hand to stop from falling to the grass.  They didn't fit all too well to begin with.

"Ah, see, yes!" trills Candle.

Holding his jeans up with one hand, he gestures a hint wildly with the other.  "Look, okay, just explain what you're doing!"

"Sweet Set, you really are holding on, aren't you, tough guy?"  Inferno grits her teeth and gives her wand a twist, causing a lurching sensation in the ginger's stomach, bordering on nausea, making him groan.  Candle frowns more prettily and makes a serious of increasingly jerky teasing motions.

"You need to let go of all that hate, it's keeping everything clinging to you.  If you don't stop all that self-loathing..."  With a hot flash, the pounds start packing back on.

"Stop it, you stupid fuck!" screeches Inferno.  "You have to let go.  I don't fucking care how confused you are, you're going to hurt us, and your stupid ass too, if you don't stop clinging like that!"  She scowls, and Candle makes a more elaborate movement, making his stomach flutter.  He cringes and grits his teeth.

"I'm not trying to cling to anything!" he yells back, confused and now offended that he's being yelled at for something he has no idea how to stop doing.

"I know it's a lot to ask, friend, but you have to trust us, you have to let things get better or they won't!"  His body is fluctuating back and forth, now thinner, now fatter, now shorter, now taller, and it's making his stomach turn and his head spin.  The fluctuations are... not pleasant.

He holds his stomach with one hand and kinda stumbles a hint. He exhales heavily, trying mentally to... let go of whatever it is he is holding on to, trying to just... force himself to relax stop freaking out. That isn't too easy.  But one bonus of being a self-aware mentally ill person is you know a lot of grounding tricks.  He tries to breathe slowly, focusing on the trees and the stars above.  He tries to think about things actually getting better, in whatever way that's possible.  With his heartrate calming and his fists no longer clenched, he tries to just let things happen.  He has no idea who these two are, why they're doing this to him, or what their goal is, but there's clearly no fighting it right now, and so he doesn't.  And then, with a huff from Candle and a grunt from Inferno, there's a sensation like someone pulling the plug, and a lot of.. stuff draining out.  There's a glow in the air now where something is being siphoned off of him into the ferrets' wands, and his weight is settling smoothly, his height resting about the same as theirs.  Within moments, he's much more comfortable, as well as at least 200lbs lighter and a foot shorter.

He looks himself over in amazement, feeling the flat chest and belly, the slim waist, the narrow shoulders, the trim thighs with his free hand - the one that's not holding up his jeans. It is instantly apparent that he is much smaller, vastly more slender, no longer built like a subway train.  "Holy shit..." he says, mystified.

"There, there we go, good job," sighs Candle, who then begins swirling her wand-tip in a gentle circle.  Inferno does the same, turning the opposite direction.  The glow pulling off of him, previously a deep blue, is now flowing the other direction, a bright pink.  He gasps in shock as his hips suddenly flare wider, his face quickly softens, his ass bounces thicker, which makes him look back over his shoulder.  "Whoa what?" Then Inferno's choice of terminology reddens his cheeks. "What?!" he repeats, more emphatically.

"You heard me, faggot," Inferno grins, then gives her wand an extra twirl.  A warm sensation at his mouth brings up his hand, to find dramatically poutier lips.

This only reddens his cheeks more.  "I... that..."

"But it was never just that, was it, my friend?" Candle asks gently.  "There's more to your fantasies and your inner self than just this."  She too gives her wand an extra loop, and now the glow pushing into him isn't pink, it's purple.. and so is he.  Purple fur, soft and warm, lifts up from his skin, white down his front.  He's so surprised that he accidentally drops his pants to bring both hands up to touch the downy fluff - hands that are furry, too, but with plumping smooth pads on his fingertips and palms.  Hands sporting claws, not nails.  Hands finding fluffy elbows, a chest poof, finding his facial hair melted into the fuzz, finding hair growing just as soft but much faster than the rest.

"Whoa... that's... holy shit," he says. He's less alarmed than utterly awed now. His hair hangs long and feathered around his face, down his back, velvety black.  His face begins to feel intensely strange, and bringing padded fingers to poke and prod reveals a growing muzzle, slim, canine, tipped in a black wet nosepad.  Running his longer, flattened tongue around his mouth confirms sharp teeth, fangs.  His ears itch and the ones he scratches are not the ones he came here with, but long and tall, triangular, fluff-lined.  He suddenly remembers his pants as he finds himself tripping over them, bulky paws and shifting legs staggering to find balance in a digitigrade stance.  He doesn't even care that he's nude - what's happening here is far stranger than animal-women seeing his junk.  Or his ass.  An ass with an almighty itch-and-tingle at the top, something that ropes out into a tail, which fills out with more fluff than he could ever ask for, purple with a white underside.  He's a canine, now, an animal-person like them. A--

"Wolf.  You're a wolf, dumbass.  We can already see your balls, you might as well get out of that set of rags that used to be a shirt that's too big now anyway.  Sheesh."  The dark ferret rolls her indigo eyes, which seem to be glowing in the dark - as are Candle's pink ones.  Looking down, he realizes her comment is rather apt.  His shirt is rent and torn where his questing fingers forgot their sharp claws.  However, the purple-furred wolf reddens again in his cheeks at being reminded that the pair can see his junk. He awkwardly tugs at his ruined shirt, then squeezes his thighs together to try to give himself some modesty, while hanging the shreds of shirt over his junk.

"We're not taking those away, you don't have to hide them.  Quit being such a girly fag and get your shirt off.  I want to make sure we didn't miss anything.  Strip and twirl, queermo."  Inferno's smirk, now familiar, has no small tinge of triumph to it now.

"She's right, we do need to check," says Candle somewhat more apologetically.  

e huffs in embarrassment at the rapid-fire taunts.  Still, cheeks flushed, he obeys, mainly because Candle asked, pulling off the torn shirt and turning in a slow, nude circle with his arms out.  Much to his horror, his tail seems to automatically flick up and out of the way to present his full, round ass to them.

Inferno snorts.  "Wow, buttslut already huh?"

Candle taps her wand, glow-free, against her plump lower lip.  "You need something more.  You'll still be mistaken for something you are not."

Inferno laughs, almost a bray.  "Yeah, the faggot looks too much like a girl and not enough like a faggot!"

The lighter sister wrinkles her nose delicately.  "I wouldn't have put it that way, but you're right enough.  Alright then."  The two of them raise their wands again and give a firm push, almost like cracking a whip, and a burst of purple light flashes towards him.. and splashes directly into his crotch.  He's sent staggering backwards at the sudden shift in weight as his balls balloon outwards, cartoonish, hanging suddenly to his knees, round and taut.  His cock goes along with them, hanging fat and long over his full sack.

"There, now there's never any question just how much of a cocksucker you are.  Or can't wait to be.  Right?"  Inferno quips.

Staring down at his huge junk, he looks back at them with wide eyes.  He's so embarrassed at this point that he's all shaky. "I... this is... I mean, that's huge..."

Candle smiles a little conspiratorially.  "Our divining was.. very thorough about what you needed to feel right," she says quietly.

Inferno snickers loudly.  "Yeah, it said 'HE'S A FAGGOTY SLUT WITH STUPID GENITALS".  Right there on the tin.  So you'll have to live what what fate dealt you, eh, big-balled faggot slut?"

Utterly humiliated, he bites his plump bottom lip at the intimation that this was right for him. It isn't exactly like this isn't a build he had fantasized about for years or anything. Inferno's loud narration makes him look even more embarrassed, a tiny whimper escaping his muzzle. The name-calling is... more than a little intense. "That's... but... You did this, not fate."

Inferno waves her wand casually, making her silver bangles jingle.  "Fate, magic, divination-approved-good-samaritinism.. wevs.  You are what you are and you fucking like it.  Anyway, we have some shit for you."

Candle giggles.  "I think what she means is that we have some clothes for you.  It's all things you'll like, don't worry.  They're in the bag on that stump."  She points to a stump off to the side of the glade, still within the power circle.

Fishing through it finds a belly-baring tight-fitting tshirt, black with a rainbow star on the chest, as well as some low-rise jeans with a VERY big crotch, also tight, with ripped thighs.  There's also a pair of pink panties (also with a very large crotch), some jewelry (plastic cuffs in a variety of colors, a simple black choker, and a rainbow earring (which he discretely swaps out for his right helix)), and a studded belt with a heart-shaped buckle.  As he's getting into them, cheeks burning, basically running on automatic, Inferno calls out, "I wanted a shirt that said 'Will Suck Dick For Candy' but Candle wouldn't let me.  I know you'd like it though!  The thought was there!"  This is followed by the very audible sound of Candle trying to shush her.  The pair can likely see that it's got him squirming, even if he isn't physically turned on. He finishes dressing, and the final touch is the belt, and he taps the heart-shaped buckle once it's on.

Inferno's idea makes him laugh, mouth agape at the lewdness. "I... would not wear that. Probably."

"Suuuuuure ya wouldn't.  Faggot."

He saunters back over to the pair, or tries to saunter in super tight pants and a blush to burn down a city, and Candle pats his arm.  "You may want to choose a new name.  We can't do that for you.  But something tells me you have a lot of ideas to choose from."  She smiles at him, warm and soothing.  Inferno ruins the moment.

"Just go by Fag, it's what everyone is gonna call you anyway."  She snorts at her own joke, then lifts her wand with a nod to her sister.  They hum again, and the shimmering cyan wall fades, puffing out in smoke along the ground.

He huffs again at being called a faggot so insistently. It is certainly not a description that is inaccurate, given his new looks and his outfit. And, well... the side of him that the twins have brought to the forefront. "I am... pretty sure I can't go by Fag," he says, blushing endlessly at Inferno's taunts. He looks around as the wall of cyan fades away, leaving him free to leave.

"On your way, then," says Candle.  "We hope you can do good in the world - more good than you could when pre-occupied with your shame."

"Yeah," Inferno chimes in, "I bet sucking a lot of dick counts as doing good.  Good for the dicks, anyway.  Glad to know you're on top of that!"

"I uh..." he stammers, blushing so hard and bulging quite lewdly against his tight jeans. "I guess... thank you?" the embarrassed wolf says, before he starts back toward the path.

"You're welcome.  Enjoy yourself," beams Candle.

"But not too much, at least until you get somewhere with a locking door!" Inferno calls.  "Lewd girly faggot!"

And with that, he's off home, squirming the whole way, and not just because he's trying to get comfortable in his tight jeans.  Things are a bit different.. just how different will soon be seen.