Tgirl pothead plays with the human genome to get big tits and a barbed cock

The young egg looked around the small clearing in the woods nervously, like she has every single Sunday of every week for a few years now. Still as empty as always. She releases a sigh and drops her backpack to the forest floor, fishing her girl clothes out of it. Clad now in her extra spinny skirt, torn anime t-shirt and long sleeved fishnet top over that she fishes her prerolls out and collapses onto a towel, lighting up and sighing contently. Sure, she may not be able to get HRT, and sure, nobody KNOWS she's trans...

But she can be herself, here. Be at peace, nothing but the sounds of nature, the burning of the joint at her lips as company. And that's good enough, right? Yeah. It absolutely is, she reminds herself. At least she HAS a place like this, so many others on social media don't. And that makes her privileged so she should just enjoy it and shut up about the rest of it. At least, that's what all the popular transfemme accounts she follows say, and they're super pretty so they have to be correct!

"Goddamn I hope this narration is ironic!" a voice barks. Practically jumping out of her programmer socks the transfemme scans the clearing with her red eyes, finding it empty. She pulls the joint from her lips and stares at it. "Never had an auditory hallucination from weed before..." she mutters, and then screams when a massive paw slaps down on her shoulder. "You still haven't!" the owner of the paw barks from behind her. Whipping around in a fear that is harshly killing her high she's met with shifting fur the color of the tides and flame the color of the moon. "Hellhounds real!?" she screams again.

"Hellhounds real. How do you mortals always know about us?" the Hound asks with a tilt of her head, the internet poisoned transfemme looking away with a blush on her face. The Hound, staring at the narration with her fourteenth eye nods in understanding. "Well then I guess I don't have to do a big spiel about it. I'm not usually one for charity, but listening to you hurting yourself with thoughts like that is frankly annoying, so..." the hound reaches into her fur, producing a baggie of softly glowing joints. "¿Quieres?"

The transfemme stares at them, trying to place the color of the glow but unable to, not even certain that her eyes should be capable of comprehending the color before her. "Is this going to, um... like..." she stutters, the blush on her face even more intense. "Make you a braindead little sister fucktoy moron?" The Hound answers, sniffing at the bag and thinking. "... maybe? I don't really remember, honestly. I just kind of grabbed the first bag in my Furspace. Well, whatever. It's up to you." she finishes, dropping the baggie at her feet. "Smoke it and have a good time, or smoke your mortal stuff and have a less good time." she shrugs and then vanishes, nothing left behind by a floating sound effect text of waves crashing into sand. The mortal stoner just kind of stares in disbelief.

And then inhales deeply to finish her joint, flicking it into her cheap butt bucket, and rips the baggie open to drag the glowing demonic drugs out of it, lighting them without a thought. Even if these don't do what the internet says they will, it'll probably be a great high. It's certainly the smoothest she's ever had, smoke flowing down her lungs without even a little bit of irritation. Her eyes widen when she exhales, the cloud bigger than her entire body. It swirls before her eyes that she doesn't know are every color of the rainbow now.

Inside of that swirling smoke plays out her entire life. She frowns watching her own birth, the "M" written on her birth certificate. She instinctively takes another hit and her eyes widen as that letter shifts to an "F" before her eyes. Her life plays out the same, but cis. She looks down at her body, immediately slaps at her crotch to find no cock or balls. She gasps, immediately inhaling another cloud of smoke. Her life plays out before her eyes again, but much differently. A baby born with fully functional cat ears and a tail is big news.

Poked and prodded by scientists her whole life, isolated as a test subject... she frowns, her fuzzy pink ears flat against her head. That doesn't sound fun. She takes another deep hit, and exhales another life. Her parents were cat people too, their parents before them. Nothing major. A cis cat girl's life. Much happier, more time spent napping and purring as cute boys and girls pet her head and give her free drugs in exchange for getting to touch her tail. She could stop here, having already gotten everything she wants, but...

She prods at her modest chest, her lithe body. She's even skinnier than she was in her human lifetime that never happened now, despite spending half her time napping stoned in the sun. it isn't like she wants to be a fucktoy, but... listen, you'd try this too! Another hit, another exhaled life. One moment she's skinny and easily foldable, and the next puberty hit her like a truck full of rabid collectors that just heard the Gamestop got a shipment of new pops. Her backpack is twice as heavy with free drugs, and she's certain she isn't a virgin anymore, with tits nearly the size of her head and an ass WELL past that size. Her previously modest skirt nothing more than a belt around her hips, and thighs that she's watching eclipse a very fortunate dealer's head in the lifetime replaying in the smoke before her.

She sits there for a moment, content, until a hazy memory flits through her stoned feline brain. She did used to have a cock, and honestly was pretty cool with that! Her pussy is nice too, though. She taps her lips and remembers the demonic drugs burning between them. Inhaling them down to a roach and focusing as hard as she can with her brain baked to oblivion, she exhales her final lifetime. The "F" on her birth certificate becomes an "H." Drugs exchanged for equal parts her holes and her barbs scraping other's holes.

She remembers the jokes about how her grades matched her cup size until she grew well beyond the F range and she stopped showing up to classes at all, school nothing more than the place she had to legally spend her days in, getting high and having pretty people suck her big cock. She giggles inanely at the cloud of her life dissipating, waaay faster this time because she frankly doesn't remember most of it, her past a haze of drugs and fucking. She reaches into her backpack and retrieves a massive bong that she paid for with her asshole.

She pouts at the lack of drugs to go with it when her little kitty nose twitches at the scent in the air, the Tide and Moon colored Hellhound returning with a wild grin on her face. "Holy shit! You really did all that to the world just for bigger tits and cock?!" "Uhhh... huh?" The baked cat asks, pillowy lips wide open in confusion as she tilts her head. "You just altered the entire human genome, gender norms going back to the beginning of this planet's creation just because you wanted to be a catgirl with a huge cock!" The hound barks.

"You're WAY more fun than your old narration indicated! Sorry I was a bit of a bitch!" she laughs, slapping her huge paw down on the cat's head and ruffling her hair in a pet. She purrs instantly, leaning into the affections without a thought in her head until fingers snap. She blinks slowly and looks up with her shining rainbow eyes, slit pupils trying to focus. "Ohhh, sorry... you, uh, like, say somethin'?" she giggles.

"Yeah. I was asking if you wanted anything else as a reward for being fun, you baked bimbo." the Hound answers with a smile. Finger to her fat lips the cat girl tilts her head in slow thought, before looking back at her empty bong and giggling. "Ummmm... I'll tittyfuck you for more drugs?" she finally answers. The Hound's smile becomes a manic grin as her fat knotted cock slaps into cat cleavage. "You and me are gonna make a GREAT pair. Can't wait to see what you do to this place next, pussycat." The Hound laughs as her cock vanishes in pillowy cleavage, the cat just giggling vapidly, jiggling around the red rocket.