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Unread 07-21-2020   #1
thunderwing
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Night Shift [Story: Woman -> Fox]

The hospital was quiet. Alison was one of the few people there.

The night shift was where she belonged, these days. In the dark, with nobody to see her.

It had been, to say the least, a bad month – and it was all thanks to the dick pics.

She was not against dick pics in principle. She was open to receiving them, if they were solicited – or at least if she was partial to the person the dick was attached to. And she was partial to him, given that he was her boyfriend.

Well. She WAS partial to him. And he WAS her boyfriend. Past tense.

The problem was, the dick pics in question were addressed to “Cher”. As in “Cheryl, from Radiology”, who she soon learned Brandon had been cheating on her with for the past two months.

Suffice it to say, she was no longer partial to him, and he was no longer her boyfriend. And he also hadn’t been willing to change his shift so he didn’t see her all the time, because he didn’t mind seeing her – they could stay friends, right?

Well, no. They could not. And so she had asked to be moved here, to the sleepless netherworld of the night shift. A world of stale coffee and noisy janitorial machines and weird nocturnal people coming in with weird nocturnal injuries.

She walked the halls in her rumpled nurse’s uniform, her dark hair largely uncombed, her makeup smudgy. There was a time, long before – a couple weeks, at least – when maintaining her appearance had given her great joy. She had leaned into the “sexy nurse” aesthetic, and she loved it. But now, she just wanted her physical self to repel anyone who might want to get closer to her – they’d just reject her again, in the end.

There was nothing to distract her from her rounds…

She sniffed the air. Smoke?

Smoke was bad.

It was coming from Room 215. Mr. Lowrence.

Mr. Lowrence was a well-built man of reddish hair and indeterminate age; he was a beloved local character, who constantly seemed to be hiking in the local woods and was always happy to advise a passer-by on what mushrooms were edible, how to use moss as a compass, or where the best trout-tickling spots were. He had been brought in a couple days ago, having been struck by an all-terrain vehicle. He had a severe laceration that had been stapled shut, but was otherwise undamaged, which did not explain why he had fallen into a coma within an hour of being admitted. There were no obvious head injuries, and scans of his brain activity had been…puzzling, to say the least. A specialist was coming in from the city to take a look at him in the morning.

She opened up his door, and found him still motionless in bed. There was indeed a light haze of smoke around him.

“Mr. Lowrence? Have you been smoking? I knew we shouldn’t have left that filthy old pipe of yours in here…”

Now that she was closer, she could smell it wasn’t tobacco smoke, though. More like…burning hamburger.

She took a closer look, and gasped. The area around the stapled wound on his side was blackened and smoking, especially where the staples were in contact with his flesh.

A metal allergy? She’d never seen anything like this, but it did seem like the staples themselves were causing him distress.

She retrieved a staple-remover from her smock, and began carefully removing the staples, one-by-one, from his side. It was delicate work, but she had nimble fingers.

Finally, she had them all out – and before her astonished eyes, his wound healed completely and sealed itself up, leaving only a faint white scar where the laceration had been.

Thank you.

“Oh, you’re welcome, Mister Lowren – huh?”

His eyes were still squeezed shut. His body remained completely motionless, save for the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Oh, I’m afraid my body still needs its rest. But I can still give you my thanks.

She let the tray of staples clatter to the floor.

You see, “Mister Lowrence” is my mortal guise – a shell of flesh to house me. However, exposure to iron – especially embedded in the tissue – is extremely unpleasant for spirits, like myself, as you can see. But as you can see, with the offending metal gone, I am already recovering. I believe Mister Lowrence will walk out of the hospital tomorrow on his own two feet, thanks to you.

She was frozen in shock. She didn’t believe in…ESP, or telepathy, or whatever this was.

ESP? Not exactly. I am a spirit of the forest, and I was old when mankind was young. To communicate like this is natural among our kind. Humanity has always fascinated me, and I enjoy walking among you. But rare among humanity are those with the kindness and quick thinking to aid a spirit when he is at his most vulnerable. So I wish to give you a gift. But what do you want? Let me see…

She could feel…something strange, in her thoughts. Like warm fingers, caressing her brain…

Ah, heartbreak. Mortal men are always so disappointing. What you want right now is to feel wanted, and desired. You always have been, of course. But now it will be…undeniable.

Alison felt a warm hand caress her cheek. She tried to reach out and touch it with her own hand, but there was simply nothing there – her fingers passed through warm air.

Relax, and let the pleasure wash over you. I have learned so much about human women over the centuries…

It felt so good. It was weird, but she was just so starved for the human contact.

Well. Contact, at least.

It moved lower, stroking her neck, moving down to her collarbone, and then further, gently cupping her firm breasts.

“Oh wow. We’re doing this Swayze-Demi-style? O-okay.”

I don’t get that reference.

She didn’t answer. Her head was swimming, and she was just trying to process all this – while at the same time, she was trying not to make too much noise, stifling her moans of pleasure. Lowrence – or whatever was inside him – was the most skilled lover she’d ever had. His invisible hands were as soft as silk, and as skilled as a surgeon’s. He hadn’t even moved his hands below her waist, and she was somehow on the verge of orgasm anyway.

Soon, however, the pleasure was mixed with discomfort. Her nurse’s uniform was becoming so tight and uncomfortable, and her body was burning up…

“Muh-maybe we should stop. I don’t feel…very good…”

Suddenly, her uniform burst open at the front, revealing her breasts – all six of them, dusted with white fur. Her jaw dropped.

“What?”

I told you – I walked the Earth long before humans did. I am not human, and now that you’ve received my gift, neither are you. The fox has long been my patron beast, and it will be yours, as well.

She was fighting the urge to caress her newly exposed assets…and losing. “But I mean, this feels good, and…mmmmff…no! No, no! I don’t want to turn into an animal!”

Not animal, but not human, either. Something…between.

There were now hands caressing and groping all six of her breasts. Two of them were hers, and the other four were not.

Her ears perked up – right out of her unkempt hair, as they pointed and cupped and grew a light coating of red-and-white fur. She could feel fur springing up on her arms and hear it rustling under her sleeves – feeling the alien sensation of her ears moving to follow the sound.

Another spectral hand reached under her shirt, and started caressing her lower back. She gasped when her coccyx responded with a twitch. The hand continued to rub it until it emerged from the surface of her flesh, and began to lengthen, bone by bone. She craned her neck around to look at it – its obscene, hairless length twitching with pleasure as it poked out from the waistband of her skirt. As she watched, more invisible hands joined in, groping and stroking it and causing red fur to spring up with their touch.

It was starting to uncomfortably stretch her underwear. She tried to tug at her skirt and panties, but she tore them, instead – courtesy of the tough, dark claws that had replaced her fingernails. She was unable to tear her eyes away from it, and watched helplessly as her hand was overtaken by dark fur, with rough pads forming on her fingertips and palms. She kicked off her now ill-fitting shoes, and saw similar claws tearing through her socks.

It was almost like an out of body experience. Her body, even though she could feel every inch of it, was no longer her own. It was something out of a horror movie – but instead of the bone-cracking agony she’d seen in a hundred werewolf movies, all she felt was pure animal bliss. She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

Her face began to contort, forcing her mouth open as she tried to say something, anything – but to no avail. Before her horrified eyes, her nose turned up and turned black – and pushed out, merging with her lips and her jaws to fuse together into the furry, fang-lined muzzle of a fox.

“Please…not my face…” Her voice had a slight growl to it now – still recognizable as her own, but with a feral, bestial undertone.

I think you were due for a change. Something new, that better suits you…

She barely had time to mourn the loss of her face when the hands began to stroke and tease her now-bare womanhood. It was already practically gushing from what had to be dozens of hands caressing every part of her, and the added stimulation made her cry out and fall to her hands and knees. Her hair fell in front of her face, and she could see it had gone from dark brown to red, with an inch of white at the tips.

However, before her brain could process that, the entity…entered her.

It was big. It was hot. It was NOT shaped like a human penis.

The last vestiges of resistance she had fell away. She was a creature now.

She wanted this. She wanted to BE this.

Her clothes – the rags that still clung to her body – felt wrong now. Why would she want to cover up a single inch of herself? Using her claws, she tore the last few scraps from herself; the shredded skirt, the back and sleeves of her blouse, the claw-slashed socks. Soon, she was free of them.

She was free, period. Free of the sad little human life she’d had, where one callous man could break her heart. Free of responsibilities. Free of shame.

She thrust back against her invisible lover, making sure to take his entire length inside her. Her tail flicked back and forth – if she had a tangible man thrusting into her right now, she’d surely be driving him wild, as the appendage teased his bare chest. The warm hands were still touching her in all the right places – her clit, her neck, all six of her oh-so-sensitive breasts…

The changes were coming quickly now. The last patches of pale skin were being covered up by her glorious, glossy pelt – black on her hands and feet, and a creamy white and coppery red everywhere else. Her furry tail had reached its full length, and begged to be petted and stroked. Her hands and feet both bore wicked claws, which dug deep furrows into the linoleum tiles as she held on for dear life.

Alison finally came as a monstrous yowl escaped her mouth. Her pussy constricted and massaged the spectral member inside her, milking it of whatever intangible essence it was blasting inside her. Her limbs gave out beneath her, and she sunk to the floor, enjoying the sensation of the cool linoleum on all six of her overstimulated nipples.

Slowly, the intangible presence around her dissipated. She was left to bask in the afterglow of her inhuman orgasm on the floor.

She found she wasn’t tired, though. She could do it all over again…and surely the best way to appreciate Mr. Lowrence’s gift was to pay it forward.

Alison stood up, and looked at herself in the mirror. The face of an amber-eyed fox looked back at her; she ran her long tongue over her wickedly sharp teeth, and smiled. She felt a slight pang of regret at having lost her humanity…but inhumanity felt so fucking good.

She took the call button in her clawed hand. Who was on call tonight? Oh, that delicious Dr. Patel. She’d seen him in the break room.

She pressed the button.

Mr. Lowrence’s mouth curled into a smile.
Attached Files
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