One Capitalist at a Time [Part 1]

The box was unassuming - small, brown, cardboard - apparently sent over by the boys in the California R&D department. And inside the box was nothing more than a plush children’s toy and a note.

“For the man who has everything“

Arnold smiled. That was him.

Born into a wealthy family, he had turned his inherited millions into billions, carving out a place for himself among the richest and most powerful men in the world. He owned companies for any product you could imagine, had countless politicians in his pocket, and even more liquid funds than God.

That said, the gift was an odd one. A plush mouse with light blue-grey fur and pastel pink overalls. On its left paw was a patch with a single instruction: squeeze.

He did so.

“You’re my new best friend!“

A small chuckle escaped him. He didn’t understand why he had been sent a baby toy, but its voice was cute. He liked it.

He squeezed the paw again.

“Let’s play a game!“

He nodded. The phrases were standard for a toy, but the cutesy intonation made him smile.

He squeezed again.

“You’re gonna be a good girl.“

The future-tense in that one was odd, though.

“I think ‘corporate fat cat’ should be more literal, don’t you?“

That one was just plain weird. And… he hadn’t squeezed its paw that time… had he?

He felt a weird tingling at the sides of his head.

“Don’t worry,“ the toy continued, “This’ll be fun!“

He put a hand to the side of his head and felt his ear changing. It grew bigger and pointed, growing hair on its back as it slid upwards, his skull flowing as both ears moved to the top of his head. Acute fear gripped his heart and he tossed the plushie away in horror.

It landed on his desk, sitting upright and facing him.

“Those ears are so cute!“ It chirped. “You’re gonna need a tail, though.“

His spine tugged downward and outward, pressing against his waistband. He fumbled with his belt and let his trousers fall to his knees. As soon as he did, a long, black-furred tail erupted out. The sensation sent a wave of pleasure through his body that cut through his fear. Though he tried to hold it in, a strangled sound escaped his throat.

“Aww! Such a cutie. We’re almost done, Arnold. Now we’re gonna make you into a sweet, precious girlie!“ His clothes turned instantly to shreds that fell in a pile around his feet.

“A what?!“

His eyes widened at the sound of his voice, already high and melodic. His hair, normally close-cropped and business-worthy, grew three feet and turned bright pink. The tingling from before now spread throughout his body, and he moaned. It was a musical, feminine sound.

His bones grew warm as they changed, his shoulders shrinking, his legs growing, his pelvis widening. His body fat flowed through his body, settling mostly in his hips, his thighs, and his behind, which also tightened into a perky, bubbed rump.

Then the tingling exploded in his chest a long with a needy yearning that felt almost like an itch. His hands moved instinctively to grab at his chest as it grew bigger and bigger, spilling out between his fingers. He moaned loudly and shamelessly at the sensation that didn’t stop until he was left with a pair of heavy, sizable breasts, each more than a handful, on his chest.

He panted, catching his breath. One hand moved up to examine his shoulders, then up to his ears. The other moved down to his hips before examining his tail.

“Oh! You’ll want a mirror.“

And there was a mirror in front of him. No, not him. Her. The figure in the mirror was, indeed, a “sweet, precious girlie”. Aside from the pink hair and the feline features, she looked like she could have been Arnold’s daughter. Young, doe-eyed. With a naive, vulnerable expression.

She had an hourglass figure, at least a foot shorter, perhaps thinner overall but not by much. Not an inch of hair, save the long pink locks on her head and the black fur of her ears and tail. Smooth, soft, unblemished.

Euphoria rocked through her body, bringing tears to her eyes. She stared in awe at what had happened. She felt so happy. Had she ever felt this happy before?

“Now let’s play dress-up!“

Ribbons of light surrounded her, wrapping themselves around her body and transforming into clothing. First a pair of lace panties with a matching bra. Then a frilly mini-skirt and sailor fuku, both pink with a black trim. Long stockings that slid their way up her smooth, hairless legs. Pink flats and black gloves. And a collar with a cutesy, oversized bell.

“Adorable!” The plushie clapped. Could it always do that? “But now you’re gonna need a new name. ‘Arnold’ simply won’t do.“

“You’re right.“ She twirled in place and thrilled as the skirt poofed up. She looked back at the plushie, expectantly.

“What are you lookin’ at me for?” It cocked its head. “I can’t name you, silly. Only you can do that! Tell me the name of your soul!“

She looked back at the mirror, staring into her own eyes.

“Abby. I wanna be Li’l Abby.“

“That’s a great name, Abby! I’m so happy to be your friend!“

“Oh, wait!“ Abby lifted up her skirt, displaying the little bulge in the front of her panties. “W-what about this? Should I still have it?“

“Aw, don’t worry Abby. Lot’s of girls have a henny, though not all as cute as yours. You’re gonna want that later when it’s playtime!”

That satisfied her and she twirled again before vaulting over her desk and falling backwards into her office chair. It felt so much bigger now. Her office did too. Bigger, emptier.

The plushie stood up and walked across her desk to her. “So, how do you feel?”

"I feel... great!" Abby said. She was a little overwhelmed. "I haven't felt this good since..."

She tried to recall a time she felt this happy, but she couldn't. She tried to remember her accomplishments in the world of business, but none of them had made her feel like this.

In fact, as she remembered each one, she felt only shame and guilt. With each acquisition, each deal in her own favor, she had signed away the health, the livelihood, even the lives of people. People she'd never met, people who she had considered either acceptable losses or just minnows to a shark.

"Oh God." She felt sick.

The plushie put a paw to her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I'm a monster." She said, tears starting to well in her eyes. "I have blood on my hands. So much blood."

She cried openly as the guilt racked through her body. The plushie held her while she cried, stroking her hair and cooing soothing sounds.

"You won't be able to make everything right." It said honestly, "But you can make it better."

Abby sniffed."I can?"

"Not a doubt in my mind. You an' me, Abby? We're gonna change the world."

Abby smiled through her tears and hugged the plushie close to her chest. She felt a mission growing in her heart. A mission she felt dedicated to. A mission she wouldn't fail.

"I never asked your name." She whispered.

"Demiurge Class Reality Override Zero Dash Zero Five, Babygirl."

Abby hugged her new best friend closer. "I love you, Babygirl."