A Winged Bunny's Home

You drive home, going through the motions of your commute. The normalcy of it all makes you laugh, here you are a thicc rabbit with feathery wings stopped at a red light.

Your apartment has a balcony, something that you'd been willing to pay extra for in this new reality. It's nice to not need to climb all the way to the roof to fly to work.

...Wait that can't be right. You didn't have wings until an hour ago. You got an apartment with a balcony so Sarah could keep her plants outside.

You look up at your balcony. Third floor, second unit from the left on the north wall. You stand behind your car, experimentally stretching your wings. Somehow you know it'll just take one good flap to get up there.

You spread your wings, feeling each feather catch the cool night air, and push downward. Your ears pin back in fear as you shoot into the sky. Wings flare to slow you down, drifting down to your balcony. Why is the chair right in your landing zone?

"Shit!"

Your foot catches on the railing, sending you tumbling into a heap against the sliding door. It takes a minute to get back to your feet, between the extra limbs and lower center of gravity. Luckily nothing feels broken, but you hope nobody saw that.

The door unlocks, slides open, and you're back home. The apartment is still just as half-empty as it was when you left it that morning. The furniture has also been modified to fit your body, the couch has slots for your wings and the chairs are larger to fit your massive ass.

Knock knock knock

Who could that be? You walk over to the door, wondering why you'd have a visitor this late in the evening. Your cock starts hardening again in your jeans, pressing against the fabric.