(Woman to Rabbit)





The Amazing Mark gazed at the crowd before him, the usual sea of expectant faces. Except, of course, for the heckler. There was a woman in the back, some redhead that had been giving him trouble all night, jeering at his every illusion. She was sitting alone, and it was clear she was here to heckle him for the sake of it.



Almost on cue, she spoke up. “How about you show us some real magic?”



Mark grit his teeth and rolled up his sleeves. He took a calming breath, then spread his arms wide to address the crowd. “I’m afraid I’ll need a volunteer for this. So, my dear audience, who among you do you choose for my finale?”



Almost as one, the men and women eagerly pointed to the heckler, knowing smiles on their faces.



“Traitors.” She muttered, but stood and walked towards him nonetheless. Mark looked her up and down as she advanced. Despite her attitude, she certainly was attractive: long legs, a fair chest, long hair framing an attractive face.



“So, my dear lady, may I have your name?” He offered her his hand as she took the stage.

She declined the invitation with a dirty look. “Miranda.”



Mark turned to the crowd once more. “Ah, Miranda! A lovely name for a lovely assistant! So, who’s ready to see The Amazing Mark and Magic Mira’s finale?”



Miranda opened her mouth to say something, but was drowned out by raucous applause.



“If you would be so kind as to stand on this stool, milady?” Mark bowed, gesturing to the plush seat.



Miranda complied after a moment’s hesitation. Something felt off about this to her, but she’d never get a better opportunity to prove him a fraud.



Mark beamed at her. “So Mira, am I right to say you’re something of a nonbeliever?”



Her eye ticked slightly at the nickname. “Surprisingly, you’re not wrong.”



Mark cracked his knuckles, stretching out his arms. “So bitter! Tell me, what is it that you have against a little harmless magic?”



She crossed her arms and glanced to the side. “It’s fake.”



The magician put a hand to his chest, acting as though he’d just been shot. “Fake! Ladies and gentlemen, my dear assistant thinks magic is fake! But if you believe hard enough, I think we can get her to, too.”



Miranda scowled. He was good at leading the crowd, she had to give him that. Then, he returned his attention to her.



“So, would you say that the rabbits we magicians use are fake?” The crowd leaned in expectantly for her answer, and she felt slightly uncomfortable.



“Well... No.” She admitted hesitantly.



Mark clapped, and continued. “And would you say that you, my assistant, are fake?”



“No.” She arched an eyebrow, curious to see where this was going.



“Well then, what if I weave a little magic, and make the very real you into a very real rabbit?” He waved his arms about mystically.



Miranda snorted with derision at that.



Mark turned back to the audience. “Ah, it seems she still doesn’t believe.” He tapped his finger against his lip pensively. “Well then, let me help ease this along. What are a rabbit’s most identifying characteristics?”



Miranda blinked, caught off-guard. “Well, I’d have to say their ears or their tail.”



Mark clapped his hands together. “Perfect! Now, I want you to think of a rabbit’s ears and tail, can you do that for me?” He knelt slightly, waggling his fingers at her.



Miranda rolled her eyes, but humored him.



The crowd gasped slightly as her ears started to lengthen, drawing to tips that sat high atop her head.



Mark waved his hands, stalling the change. “Oh, I almost forgot! Floppy ears, or pointed ones?”



Miranda frowned with thought slightly. “Floppy.” At that, she felt something brush against the sides of her face. She reached her hands to brush whatever it was away, then froze as her fingers brushed it. She could feel her fingertips against it. She grabbed one and moved it to her vision. It was her ear.



Miranda screamed, and Mark winced. “Easy, dear.” He waved his hand and she felt her throat tingle. She opened her mouth to scream again, but only a squeal came out.

Mark looked back over his shoulder to the crowd. “It seems our little rabbit has found her voice!”



They laughed as she tried to shout, hisses and growls the only sound leaving her mouth.

Miranda blinked back tears. What was happening? Why couldn’t she speak? Why couldn’t she run?



Mark began anew. “I’d like to apologize to you, my fine crowd. You can hardly see the rest of her changes like this.”



Miranda’s eyes widened helplessly as he waved his hands. Like that, she felt cool air on her skin, and she glanced down to find herself naked. She squealed again, and the crowd laughed.



“She’s almost as red as her hare!” Mark laughed his own joke, his voice joining the crowd’s.



Miranda glared at him, her face flushed as she tried to cover herself. She couldn’t get off the stool, but it looked like she could move normally while she was on it. Then, her hands flew to her plump rear as something tickled it. Her hands brushed against a cottony texture, and she whimpered. A glance back confirmed her fears: she had a red cottontail.

“And we have tail!” Mark pointed as he conjured a chair for himself. He sat in it and lazily twirled his fingers. “Why don’t you show our lovely audience your new addition?”

Miranda’s body turned, her mind unable to prevent it. Her tail waggled slightly at the new attention, and she flushed with embarrassment.



“Still embarrassed, dear? It’s understandable; you’re naked in front of all of these people.” Mark smiled. “And what sort of magician lets his assistants perform such public indecency?” He tutted.



Miranda shivered as the skin on her butt prickled, as though someone was tickling it with a feather duster. The feeling spread to her back; then to her chest, and she looked down to find soft, red fur growing from every pore on her body. She shook her head as it covered her face, and her ears flopped from side to side.



The crowd roared with amusement, and she was suddenly very glad they couldn’t see how red her cheeks were.



“Now, what else makes a rabbit a rabbit?” Mark asked the room.



One man shouted, “Buck teeth!”



Another yelled, “The nose!”



A woman joined them, “Whiskers!”



Miranda found her body turning to face the crowd, and she looked at Mark pleadingly. Not her teeth. She’d had to spend so much time with braces after having corrective surgery, that—



He waved his hand, and her mouth was forced open. She fell to her hands and knees as her two front teeth elongated to a rabbit’s incisors. Her nose started twitching, and her cheeks flushed as it turned upwards and became a light shade of pink. She blushed more as whiskers forced themselves from her cheeks. They twitched in the air, and she could feel the audience’s laughter against them.



Mark’s smile widened. “Now, now, is that any way for a good rabbit to sit?” He flicked his hand upwards.



Tears started mottling Miranda’s fur as she sat on her haunches, much to the crowd’s amusement.



Mark flicked his hand again, and her leg started to thump against the stool.



She glared at him through her tears, moving her fingers so she was flipping him off.



He laughed good-naturedly. “What a naughty bunny! Of course, we can fix that pretty easily. What do you say, folks?”



Miranda shook her head ‘no’, but her flopping ears only drew more cheers to continue her changes. She looked down at her hands, her thumbs twitching as they drew into her palms, her fingers ballooning into the plump digits of a rabbit. Then, her hands started cramping, too. She whimpered as she raised a paw to her face. Some of her skin remained uncovered by fur, though that was covered by velvety soft pads.

Her feet started cramping too, and she could only watch as they, too, changed into the appendages more suitable for a rabbit.



“Feeling any luckier?” Mark smirked.



She hissed at him, humiliation turning to anger. The hiss was cut off as he waved a hand at her. Her jaw cracked numbly as her face expanded into a small muzzle, her eyes sliding slightly apart as her jaw and nose expanded, pushing forward. Her cheeks swelled up, twitching along with her nose.



“Looks like my new assistant has gotten a bit of a short temper. What say we change her body to match?” Simon walked behind her, putting his hands on their shoulders.



“Keep it going!” The people chanted for him to continue.



Mark leaned in close. “Well, you heard them, my dear.” Her pushed on her shoulders.



For a moment, Miranda resisted, then her shoulders gave way. No—she squeaked with realization. Her whole body was giving way, shrinking as he pushed her down. Her heart hammered in her shrinking chest, her breasts disappearing into her body. Then she realized the fat wasn’t disappearing, it was simply changing location. She raised her thinning arms to cover her thighs, but she could feel herself becoming fatter, a plump pet on a stool for all the world to see. She kept covering her eyes, even after Mark let her go. The audience’s laughter told her enough; she didn’t need to see the changes.



Mark lifted one of her ears. “So, Miss Miranda, do you believe in magic now?”



She didn’t respond, quivering with shame. She was an animal, and a fat one at that. Her life, her dreams, all of it over because of a dumb magic show.



“It might help your situation if you nod.” Mark whispered.



She didn’t need further encouragement. Miranda nodded her bunny head vigorously, wishing for it to end.



“Friends, it seems we’ve made ourselves a believer tonight!” He roared to the crowd, and they roared with approval.



Mark turned back to her, picking her up by her ears. As he lifted her, she felt herself becoming lighter, and she looked down to find herself slimming down the proportions of a normal stage rabbit. He carried her over to his top hat and placed her inside.



“Now folks, let’s see just what a little magic can do!” He lifted the hat high above his head and overturned it.



Miranda shut her eyes tightly as she felt the hat tilt. She tried to grab on with her new teeth, but to no avail. She could feel her small body sliding out of the hat, falling towards the floor, hitting the stage with her hands and knees.



Wait. She opened her eyes. She had hands again! Human hands, not an inch of fur on them! Then that meant... She reached her hands up to her head to feel for rabbit ears. She sighed with relief as her fingertips met the fabric of his top hat.

She rose shakily to her feet to a round of applause from the audience. Mark snapped the hat from her head with a quick gesture, then bowed with a flourish. The applause grew louder, and Miranda bowed with him.



Mark stood, twirling the top hat as he placed it on his head. “Ladies and gentlemen, Magic Mira, my new pet-assistant!”



Mira glanced at him, one of her ears twitching in confusion. Wait... Human ears didn’t do that. She felt the top of her head again, stiffening when her fingers brushed against a furry rabbit’s ear.



“She’ll be here, changing for you anytime there’s a show worth giving, twelve months a year, four weeks a month, seven days a week...” The rest of Mark’s speech faded into a dull ringing as Miranda fainted.