Best DeviantArt Pokemon Transformation Stories

Siren's Song (Primarina TF)

by WeebWriteMan, Nov 26, 2016, 10:02:22 PM

Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Short Stories

Rising out of the crumpled yet clean white sheets, Thomas let out a small groan as the light of day began to breach the comfortable darkness of his hotel room, stirring him awake as he looked around the room blearily, looking at the imprint of his body in bed and around the clean, decorated room. Rolling over, he looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table, looking at the dim red numbers. 7:47. A bit before his alarm would've gone off. At least he woke up on time.

After a few minutes of relishing the comfort of the mattress and sheets and disappointed he would have to say farewell for the time being, he slid himself out of the side of the bed and stood up, stretching with his loose shirt he slept in and walking across the cool tiled floor to the window, looking down from his vista at the world below.


It was an expansive sight, the view of the coastside city filling his view. The sight of the warm waves glinting in the rising sun filled him with comfort as his eyes traveled along the rows of buildings, falling upon a large theatrical building, off in the distance. That was where he was going to soon. The city's famed concert hall, hosting an annual performance of rising and current talents in the music world.


He was going to perform there and he couldn't be more anxious in his life.


Stretching his arms above his head, he let his body limber up for a second before releasing, letting his limbs fall to his side as he turned around and began to walk across the cold floor, stopping for a moment to glance at his guitar in the corner, a pile of sheet music spread precariously on top of his case. His prideful work these last couple months which would hopefully win over the city by the sea.


Flicking the light on in the ensuite bathroom, he cleared his throat to begin the process of warming up his vocals as he strolled over to the mirror to take a nice look at himself. Messy, side-swept blonde hair, a lean physique and a handsome face, to compliment his guitarist persona. Not that he minded about his looks, but for an occasion like this you needed to be prepared for all aspects.


Taking a bundled up towel off the basin bench, he unraveled it and threw it over the shower wall, beginning to strip his shirt and boxers and reaching in to turn the water on. The cold jets sprayed out of the head, a lovely adjustable pressure flowing out from the top-of-the-line shower heads, the water quickly heating up to just how he liked it. Entering the shower and closing the door snug, Tom let the hot water wash over his body, relaxing his muscles and flattening his hair against his head, the water swirling down the drain as he took deep breaths through his nose. He began to hum, vocalising a tune through his throat as he reached forward to get some shampoo out of the tiny bottle given to him, his voice echoing around the bathroom. The further he got into the song, the more he opened his mouth, letting the song be heard only by himself... and the hidden audience, drawn to his voice from the sea.


The spirits listened from their spectral seats to his incredible singing voice, the right tone, pitch, pacing... he was perfect. A perfect sea singer...


But a few adjustments would have to be made.


As his voice traveled along the memorised, musical bars, hitting each note with a motivating sense of satisfaction, his voice quavered, suddenly jumping a few octaves halting the song in its tracks. He opened his eyes, a bit confused as the suds from the shampoo trickled down the sides of his body in streams. A hand moved away from his hair to his voicebox, gently squeezing his throat and clearing it with a gentle cough before he tried to harmonise, getting his voice back to normal. That was weird... Hopefully it didn't happen again.


Quickly rinsing his hair of the shampoo, Thomas reached out to grab the small bottle of conditioner, continuing to hum as he squeezed it into his palm before noticing something was off. His brow furrowed as he quickly wiped off the small amount of conditioner, holding up his hand in front of him. In the center of his palm was a white discolouration, completely unnatural compared to the skin surrounding it. A quick yet hesitant touch revealed it was just more than a weird bleached spot. It was fur, a thin layer of wet, yet water resistant fur, sprouting right there on his palm. Not only that, as his chest began to seize up in a confused panic did he notice his hand and fingers slowly beginning to grow, the longer he stared the larger they became. His hands were growing!


In fleeting response to the phenomena, he tried taking a step and reached to open the shower door in a hurry before discovering that all the strength in his legs had been drained, instead collapsing and falling back onto the wall, groaning in pain, his voice spliced with strange cracks in pitch. Sliding down onto the tiled floor, his vision beginning to swim he glanced down at his legs, immediately noticing the problem.
His feet too were infected by whatever this was, watching as the white fur spread at a faster, accelerating rate, sending sensations of dread up his spine before realising how bone thin his ankles were. No wonder he didn't have the strength to step when they looked like they could snap at any time. He shifted and struggled, putting his large, thinning hands on the wall, with the three middle fingers dominating in size, the subtle pops and cracks in his hands sending needles of pain through his increasingly flipper-like appendages.


He struggled to pull himself up, only managing to only just as he felt pressures all over his body, all increasing in intensity and speed as he forced himself to move towards the shower door, taking a step guided by his hands on the wall... to find that his legs did not move, instead pitching forward with a borderline inhuman cry, high pitched, distressed and beautiful as he flailed, slamming into the glass of the shower wall and sliding down, his surprisingly flexible legs bending up into the air as growing, light blue hair fell down over his practically now non-existent shoulders, his eyes beginning to blur as he shuddered and struggled to push him off the tiled floor, a finned wreath beginning to grow from his shoulders.


He turned his head, his nose and face twitching and aching as he turned around to see what the problem was, his heart hammering in his chest before sinking to his slimming stomach. His feet were... no longer feet, anymore. Covered in the same, wet pelt, but much thinner, conjoined in a love-heart shaped fin... conjoined much like his legs. At the base of his new fin, surrounded by a new translucent flared fin of his own was his former legs, perfectly fused and coated in dark blue scales. It only got worse further up, his... tail, getting thicker and stronger, even catching the scales climbing up his body, the spread sending a tingly wave to match the spread.


Thomas's breathing quickened, letting out a distressed yet beautiful cry, a plea for help as he struggled to get his thick tail onto the shower floor as the cubicle was getting far too cramped. For a moment the sight of his face growing out in front of him, his nose tipping his snout with its bulbous pinkness distracted him, screwing up a gorgeous blue eye to cope with the cracks and pains coming from his skull... but his tail was slippery and so was he. It slid down from the wall, landing with such a loud and painful thud that he yelped in pain, turning so sudden that he slipped and slammed his new snout into the glass wall of the cubicle, a loud shaking bang echoing through the room as all the emotions from this ordeal turned into pure panic. He began to scream, almost straining his voice as he flailed around, his long but beautiful hair strewn down his body, his tail going every which way as he tried to escape his cell, hitting on the glass walls and throwing himself to the floor as a result. It was painful and it wasn't pretty.


But eventually he tired himself out, enough to get a grip on himself, lying still for a bit as the hot water continued to flow over him, along with the tears streaming down his face that were washed away by the water's flow. He was scared, confused and his existence was probably ruined. What was going to happen to him?


Still exhausted and out of breath, he mustered up the strength to look up and press a flipper against the door of the shower, pressing with enough strength that it swung open and he fell out, his body laying on the cold, tiled floor with his tail lightly swaying behind him, still in the cubicle. As he lay there out of breath, a peculiar, otherworldly sensation passed through his hair. Ethereal hands seemed to run their fingers through his long, blue hair, many of them beginning to work to spruce it up, making it prettier and not such a disaster.
They tied it up in a band of pearls, delicately decorated his hair with a starfish and gave him what seemed to be a crown, his hair flowing and falling neatly onto his back. As the spirits faded, he slowly sat up and looked around him, his head turning towards the large bathroom mirror. Despite not being above the counter, he was still able to get glimpses of his form, figure and face. The tips of his flipper touched the side of his face, gently pulling on the skin as thoughts came to his mind.


...Is that... me? He mused silently, staring incredulously into his reflection. No way that's me. That's so pretty-


The sound of something loudly knocking on the door could be heard just outside the bathroom, the sound of the water not even managing to cover that up. "Mister Reys!" A voice called from outside, loud and on-the-job. "Your ride is here to take you to the concert hall. Are you ready?"
Thomas seized up on the floor, his eyes going wide as he swallowed nervously. After all that had happened, he had totally forgotten about the concert itself. It was only a matter of time before they came in to investigate...


The spirits watched the scene with the realisation of having overlooked a few small details. Namely, getting their new siren to the ocean. But they watched regardless, hoping that their endeavors would not be for naught and that everything would turn out alright.