Rubber/Latex Suit Transformations

[ZofaSoldier]

Entering rubber society

[Maetch]

Originally Posted by ZofaSoldier

Entering rubber society

I want to see more like this. I'm talking about the complete erasure of identity beneath a heavy latex uniform. No voice, no hair, no fingerprints, not even any gender.

Anybody got anything else along these lines.

[Johnhynden]

Hi there!

I have found a latex Bat transformation story. Check it out!!!!

Batatonic by Newsfop

Written by Newsfop; Concept and Characters by hynden85

(Female to latex bat transformations: Contains Adult Content)

“Talc! Where the hell is the talc!” Gwen shouted. The lithe 18-year-old squatted low digging through her duffle bag. Cool fan air in the locker room blew across her back. She shivered reflexively in just her gymnastic blue metallic leotard. Keeping her shoulder-length hair collected into a French braid for competition all she needed was a refresh of Zeasorb to wick away whatever sweat was collecting under her knuckles. But her bottle of talcum powder was missing. She searched the bag again, thinking there was perhaps a pocket or narrow crease she forgot to check.

“Hey Shraeder!” a young female voice appeared behind her. Gwen turned around in time to be met with a cloud of chalky dust in her face. Her unfortunate inhale at the moment of eruption sent Gwen into coughing spasms. Realizing the dire situation, she began digging into her eyes to remove a pair of contact lenses before they gelled to her corneas. “Good luck out on the mat, blinky.” The bottle of talc fell to the floor and spilled out.

Amid blurry, bloodshot vision Gwen saw the figure of Dottie Miller strutting away in her pink leotard. Gwen attempted to call out to her longtime rival but all she could muster was a mucousy gag. She bent over the tile floor clearing her throat. Her contacts landed in the spill of talc. Sarcastically thinking to herself, “Just perfect,” Gwen sank down on her bare legs breathing deep and trying not to cry.

This wasn’t at all how she’d hoped the finals competition would go. Gwen and Dottie had always sustained a mutual hatred for each other. It began in the middle of Freshman year; Gwen exposed Dottie of cheating on her boyfriend Ben with a drummer in the marching band. Since then Gwen became very close to Ben, even promising to move in together after graduation and talk about getting married.

Ben who originally was a big sports nut had grown more comfortable with his true passions of sci-fi and high fantasy thanks to Gwen enabling him to not feel ashamed of what he liked. He even discovered that he was a talented sculptor and could design terrifying or beautiful (or some that blended the two qualities). He always used Gwen’s physique as a reference for the female characters: athletic with narrow frames, practical and efficient, yet still beautiful. He managed to turn a nice profit selling his figurines online to buyers across the country.

Not surprisingly the relationship between Gwen and Dottie became a nearly toxic feud: Dottie being the instigator of cruel pranks and vicious rumors consistently trumped herself with severity. Among the worst was when a priority mail delivery interrupted gym class to deliver a pair of surgical breast implants to Gwen with a scathing note which read: We’re tired of not being able to tell the difference between boys and you from the side, so don’t come back until you put these where they belong. Dottie had considered the weeklong suspension well worth the trouble, and the stigma remained with Gwen ever since.

In the morning Gwen was awoken by a gentle kiss on her freckled forehead. She’d slept at Ben’s house whom cuddled next to her all night keeping her calm and distracted from the stress of the gymnastics finals. A lesser person would’ve mocked her for the odd noises she made when he gave her a deep tissue back massage. He encouraged her to get a hot shower which she didn’t decline; it was also a chance to swap out his bedsheets after realizing Gwen had drooled considerably on the pillow. Anthony made a high protein breakfast for her which she was also grateful for, but she wasn’t about to let an opportunity to hug him while nude after getting out of the bath. Gwen held her towel in her hands behind her like a cape and wrapped him with her arms like a cocoon. Their lips met and they kissed deep and long. Once they parted he said, “Don’t let anything or anyone get to you today.”

Gwen let his words echo in her mind and wiped the tears from her eyelids, most of which were emulsified with white powder. She turned to her duffle and pulled out a hinged box that carried her set of spare glasses. The prescription was a couple years old and slightly weaker than what she was used to, but considering the lack of options, it was the only choice she had. A scrub down by the sink getting the last remnants of talc off her outfit and she was ready again to go, and not a moment too soon.

“Gweneth, you in here?” shouted her coach Maggie White mere seconds before seeing her. “Gweneth, you’re up next. I need you on the mat in two minutes or you’re disqualified.” The gymnast toweled off her leotard, performed a couple quick lunges then turned on her heels to the gym door. “Everything alright?” Gwen simply nodded as she walked past.

Applause in the sparse crowd rose as Gwen entered. Gymnastics had never been the public draw that football and basketball were, but then again those who followed the sport had a better understanding of it. Nobody in the audience was a pretender. Her name was announced over the speaker calling out her event as she crossed the mat to the uneven parallel bars. Gwen stood proudly on the large pad below the high bar. Calls from her family in the bleachers were heard, particularly since she knew they always knew where to sit during her competitions. Her mother (still recovering from a stroke a year ago) and brother Zeke were joined by Ben and Gwen’s best friend Monica Athens. Monica was already two years into pre-med school at University of Pittsburgh and did nothing to hide her child of the night appearance. It was a motley crew, but Gwen was happy they were there to show her support. Them being there made it easier to ignore Dottie’s sudden jape about Gwen’s need for glasses.

At the chime Gwen was airborne and grasping the high bar. She pulled herself into a roll and spun up and over twice, the first time with legs split apart and the second time with them together. She stopped suddenly, perfectly poised in a handstand then dropped under, letting go, spinning like a wheel and catching the lower bar. The audience cheered despite instructions not to. Four rotations in with increasing speed each time, Gwen launched into the air like a rifle bullet. She performed a half twist and flipped upside down to catch the low bar in another handstand. But then everything went blurry. She could feel the glasses slip off her face even before it happened, and there was nothing she could do about it. She’d thought perhaps she could rely on muscle memory. Gwen dropped and spun facing the upper bar. Letting go she reached out for the hazy image that would turn out to be a very lucky catch. Smiling ear to ear, Gwen flipped and caught the bar again on the reverse. There was one last stunt to do, and she was confident. Gwen performed another handstand, dropped, rotated twice into another handstand. Then she dropped once more and cranked her momentum into a high vertical shot. All that was left was a catch and a landing. Gwen twisted and reached out for the bar. Like before she aimed for the blur. But she missed. Her hand passed by her target and she caught the bar on the back of the neck. She fell and there was darkness.

****

Alone in a dark room on a foreign bed Gwen woke up screaming. Her spine tingled like cold needles. Thrashing proved useless as her torso was strapped down with thick wide straps. A growing pain in her skull blossomed into a full grown migraine yet she continued screaming. She had air in her lungs, and she was going to use it.

Moments later a nurse ran into the room accidentally knocking over a chair. He came up beside Gwen, and there was a sting at her elbow. Angered by the injection she tried to throw her arm out but it was also bound. Slowly the tranquilizer in her system took over, and Gwen settled onto the sheets.

“I’ll let someone know you’re awake,” he said before scurrying off.

Minutes later the familiar sound of booted footsteps echoed in the hallway.

“Hey you! Glad to see you’re doing alright!” Monica swooped into the room and was wearing a white coat over top her bustier and shorts. The black and white stockings sticking out the bottom were quite site to behold as was the tattoo choker necklace. Her long purple hair poured down her back but was shaved on the sides. She leaned low and planted a solid hug on Gwen whom for obvious reasons didn’t hug back. “I can’t wait to tell your mom that you made it through the operation.”

“Monica, get off me!” Gwen yelled. “Where the hell am I? Is this St. Margarets?”

Backing up and grabbing the fallen chair Monica answered, “No, this is the Avery Warren, the experimental health facility where I’m interning.

Gwen’s face fell. She asked, “You didn’t operate on—”

“Oh no. God no,” Monica replied. “I only assisted; Dr. Jaeger was the one who did the procedure.”

“What procedure? Monica, what happened to me?”

Monica drew her chair close to her friend’s bed and sighed. Taking a moment she explained: “You fractured your vertebrae when you hit the bar and again when you landed on the mat. Everyone was beginning to panic when you didn’t move, so I ran up to you to see what had happened. You weren’t moving, so I called here and told them to you needed immediate evac and I then spent the next fifteen minutes trying to keep people away from you. Ben helped push the crowd back while your mom and brother came here waiting for your ambulance to bring you in. It took seven people to load you into the ambulance because they didn’t want to further the damage. But once you were here and got you into the O.R., it went surprisingly well after that. But that was a while ago.”

“While ago?” Gwen asked. “Like this afternoon?”

Monica swallowed hard and admitted, “No actually. That was three weeks ago.”

It didn’t take long for the fear and outrage to set in, yet Gwen remained icy in demeanor. That didn’t keep the tears away though.

“Look Gwen, I’m so sorry this happened.”

“If my leg wasn’t tied down I would kick you in the fucking head.”

“Would you like me to untie you?”

“What?” Gwen was suddenly confused.

Monica stood and unfastened the strap over her friend’s knees. Gwen lifted her right leg but found very little energy to do much else.

“You’re atrophied, but that’s understandable considering you’ve been this way for a while. Consider this though before you try to exact your malice on me. Had I not brought you here, you wouldn’t be able to move at all.”

Overcome with emotion, Gwen couldn’t hold back an emotional outburst any longer. She began sobbing uncontrollably, her face hidden by her brown hair (which had been unbraided in the time she was comatose). Monica undid the rest of the straps and lifted her up into a hug where Gwen proceeded to expel all her unfocused rage and anxiety.

When the crying died down Monica helped her friend sit sideways on the bed. Gwen saw her hands and normally she kept her nails blunt for gymnastics, but they indeed showed three weeks worth of growth.

“I gotta admit I’m not a fan of this green . . . thing they stuck me in,” Gwen remarked about her hospital gown.

“I told them you’d hate it, but they were more interested in fixing your spine. Go fig.”

“So what exactly did they do?” Gwen asked.

“Well,” Monica began to answer then stopped.

“Well what?”

“I can show you what they did. The process is still in the off-market category. It’s not that I don’t want to share, I just simply don’t know.”

Gwen chewed her mouth then extended a hand. “Show me.”

Monica helped her friend off the bed toward a mirror hanging on the utility closet door.

“Can you stand?” Monica asked.

“I’ll do my best.”

Monica moved behind Gwen and started untying the gown. The patient teetered a little but caught herself and stood firm.

“This is going to come off for a moment; is that ok?”

“We saw each other naked in the summer camp shower back in Girl Scouts. Nothing much has changed. I still ain’t got nothing up top.”

Monica chuckled and quipped, “Hey you said it, not me.”

The gown fell. Gwen stood in nothing but a pair of socks. Looking back toward the mirror she saw what appeared to be a crisscross of black electrical tape starting at her shoulders and traveling down to her lumbar region. It moved better than any kind of tape though. At the outer points and any section where the black bands crossed were titanium rivets.

“This looks like a corset piercing, something you’d be into,” Gwen stated absently.

“Don’t I know it,” Monica subtly replied.

“So what’s it supposed to be? I mean what’s it made of?” Gwen rolled her shoulders and watched the black bands extend over the bone and muscle. With every movement she could feel warmth spreading through her body.

“I think you’ll wanna put your gown back on? You’re starting to look like a stripper.”

“Oh,” Gwen remembered and gathered the ugly garment off the floor and tucked her hands back through the sleeves.

“The facility does a lot of research and practice with stem cells and renewable polymers. The data they pull is very secretive, and they don’t want any spies getting at it in case someone tries to use it for dangerous purposes.”

“Mo, I know this a weird thing to ask right now, but I gotta ask.”

“What’s that?”

“Did Dottie win the finals?”

“Yes.”

“That bitch.”

****

It was Saturday morning the following that Gwen was released from the facility to her mother. They were especially relieved to learn that all the funding for the institute came from government grants which meant no lingering out-patient care balance to handle and nothing was added to the already high balance of medical bills accrued by their family. Monica had given her friend a new set of clothes to go home in, a pair of skinny jeans, a white tee with a ninja bunny on the front, a brown jacket, and a pair of blue Keds. She’d joked, “I didn’t feel right having them send you home in the leotard,” but also hintingly patted the chest pocket of the jacket.

Meeting up with Ben later was both a blessing and a disappointment. He explained to her over lunch at Qdoba that half the kids at school thought she was dead and the rest thought she was a vegetable. The part that upset her the most though was how quickly everyone had moved on. Only Gwen’s mom, brother, and Ben came to visit her the facility to watch over her during their allotted time.

Adding further disappointment to the equation Gwen learned her stock position at Kritter Mart had been replaced, and nobody was about to consider bringing her back after her back injury. Her opportunity to see animals every day after school had vanished, as had her plan to help her disabled mother pay off all the debt. Zeke was only 15, and legally couldn’t start working yet.

At midday she was already feeling exhausted, or at least that’s what she told Ben. It may as well have been. Her colorful psyche had become a drab malaise of disinterest. Nothing seemed exciting. She asked him to take her home. Ben took her to bed where she passed out almost immediately. While leaving he heard her mutter, “I’ve ruined everything.”

****

Night had fallen. Gwen’s eyes flashed open and she lifted from her bed as though drawn from above like a string. She stepped out from her room still wearing her clothes from that day. All was silent in the house, not even the TV was on. The hallway clock showed 11:14. She crept downstairs into the kitchen looking for something to calm a growing discomfort in her stomach. The fridge had its usual array of condiments with nothing to put them on. Dismissively she slammed the door forgetting momentarily that everyone was asleep. However before finding the chance to criticize herself Gwen noticed she was holding a banana in her hand and had no memory of picking it up. It had begun to speckle and give off a sweet aroma. She bit into the side of it not bothering to remove the peel. Her eyes rolled back while savoring the sugary taste. Gwen had never in her life reacted so passionately about a banana before but she was for once happy to be happy about anything and didn’t question it. She ate the banana whole then fished around in her mouth with her fingers dislodging the waded Chiquita sticker she’d forgotten to remove. She smacked her temple lightly with her fist and chuckled for a moment but stopped after realizing her glasses were missing.

Gwen felt a tugging ripple in her back; her body began to feel flush. The house was cool, but she needed to get out to where the air was cooler and less stagnant. The sounds of nature were in full force, something Gwen loved about living on the fringe of the city. She walked down a deer trail that fed into a neighboring forest. Being out where the animals lived was one of the few ways she could cope with not being allowed to have a pet of her own. The moon was high and bright in a waxing gibbous phase. She took advantage of the light when she discovered a folded piece of paper in her jacket pocket. On it was a note written by Monica telling her to call when she got home: very important.

Her face stung with heat the next instant. The wave returned more intensely; as she gasped a plume of steam escaped her mouth. The muscles in her abdomen stretched. She had to get her pants off. They felt like they were cutting off her circulation, and the waist wouldn’t tear. Fumbling with the button at the fly Gwen’s back seized making her lose balance. She could hear what sounded like someone pouring cake batter right behind her. Gritting her teeth and fighting back through the ache in her thumbs, she wrestled the sturdy button through the denim hole and freed her waist from the confines of her pants. Her legs were peppered with sweat beads. Gwen’s skin began to itch anywhere clothing touched it. She was quick to remove everything else including the shoes which she battled the laces with.

Cognitive dissonance played on her psyche; she was grateful to be alone near the woods where nobody could see her in such a ridiculous state but also quickly beginning to worry that nobody would be able to help her either. More and more her body defied her own convictions. Out from behind her a webwork of tangling black residue erupted clinging to her like flung paint. The substance wove together across her trim frame zig-zagging in erratic patterns. She mistakenly tried to cover her mound with a hand that had captured some of the black banding, and her hole was quickly invaded. Gwen cried out defiantly pulling at the bands. Her chest became coated and too her arms were soon after. She pawed at the dirt and yanked at the material molesting her body but made no progress. She then felt the oozy substance climb its way up her face tunneling into her mouth and nose. Gwen was too shocked to make a sound and overall more surprised she would still breath. She watched her glistening coated hands through changing vision as the rubber climbed into her ocular cavity and infused with her eyes turning them a fierce luminescent black.

Her echoing screams turned into high pitch shrieks. Over her forehead into her hair the substance spread wrapping bunches of locks into dangling tentacles. With the sound of a gum bubble popping, the slithering motion of the material stopped. Albeit sore from fighting against the odd latticed coating, she felt energized. Gwen stroked a rubber clad hand through her mass of tendril hair and trembled. Thoughts of Medusa came to mind for her. Her heart raced in her chest beating hard against her rib cage. Contrary to her judgement, she vaguely admired the way the moonlight played on her torso. Each bone, tendon, and muscle was defined. Gwen cupped her small breasts tenderly and traced the nipples with her fingertips, the nails softly scraping the nubs making her loins respond in kind. Suddenly an unwelcome prickling sensation overcame the aberrant bliss.

Gwen’s nails extended longer and narrowed into razor barbs. Drawing short of breath she watched the ground distance away from her and yet Gwen was still standing. Beside her clawed foot was one of her own prints, but the impression looked too small by comparison. Nauseation teased at Gwen’s innards, yet nothing came of it but more pain and stretching.

As the girl became overwhelmed with the change, her arms fell to her sides and stuck like glue. She struggled to free her hands pulling and yanking. Each tug was ever so slightly more successful gaining a couple more inches than the last. Thin sheets of rubber webbing filled into the gaps between her arms and torso reaching down to the tops of her muscular thighs. Gwen’s fingers branched out and lengthened. Webbing filled into the partitions creating voluminous wings. She swung an arm out and nearly toppled. A gust of wind created by her involuntary flapping stirred up dirt around the pile of torn clothing that couldn’t possibly fit her at this point. Sounds in the forest appeared louder in her ears; she felt them extending outward. The bridge of her nose reshaped and pushed forward bringing with it her upper and lower jaw. Her big toes folded under on reverse joints.

Gwen was a mess of erratic emotions. She wanted to cry but couldn’t make the noises in her mouth. The memory was still present, and yet she could only snarl. She was enraged, frightened, aroused, despondent, ashamed, disgusted, but beyond all else she was starving. Throwing open her maw exposing daggered teeth, Gwen shrieked fiercely. Her wingspan had completed measuring twice that of her height. A couple of inward flaps started an air current making her body feel suddenly weightless. She flapped harder and found herself hovering a few feet above the ground. After a deep long flutter she was high in the sky looking down at the deer path which looked like a piece of string laying on a patch of moss.

What was Gwen to do? Something was instinctually guiding her, but couldn’t understand what. An overwhelming need to feed clouded her mind. Off in the distance beyond the forest at the edge of a field was the interstate. A semi blared its horn at someone who’d made a quick lane change without signalling. Her nose was picking up on an aroma that made her stomach rumble. Flying high following the vehicle, she watched it make and exit and bank along the off-ramp.

The payload was what kept her focus sharply honed distancing herself half-mile up from the truck. The vehicle slowed at an intersection with a flashing yellow and then made a slow left bank. She tucked her wings up against her shimmering chiropteran form and plummeted like a missile. Air friction formed a forceful circulating envelope. Once at the cusp of impact, Gwen threw out her arms forcing her legs down. The tractor trailer sheared off from its hitch and flipped sideways whereas the cabin spun out and landed hard in a deep ditch some fifty yards away.

Gwen landed on her quarry indulging in the sweet aroma. She wasted no time in tearing a jagged hole into the side and discovering an upturned shipment of 1600 watermelons, some in better shape than others. The bat woman reached down carefully extracted part of a melon that was halved by the collision and immediately buried her face into the pink fleshy fruit. The cold juice poured down her throat quenching her bestial desires. She shucked the empty rind and snatched up another. A stack of hollowed melon hulls formed a substantial pile under the tires of the overturned trailer.

Footsteps approached. It was the driver, a young man with a slight tummy. He’d come to and sought to figure out what caused the accident, not expecting to hear sounds of chattering and slurping. Suddenly a melon burst at his feet. He stopped. Another melon smashed in front of him then two more. A fifth barely missed his head. His reflex to duck spared him a concussion. Gwen lept from the trailer and land on all fours in front of the man. The sight of her terrified him. He slipped in some melon and fell hard on his ass. She crept closer flaring out the span of her wings. The trucker pissed himself.

“MINE!!” she screamed in a high ragged voice. He scooched backwards in a panic trying to escape, but she drew ever closer. The man flinched away then looked up seeing something Gwen did not.

She was lurched into the air against her will by something large grasping her shoulders drawing her high up into the night sky toward the city. Gwen struggled against the vise-like grip shrieking and hissing all the way. She couldn’t move her wings or thrash with her legs; whatever caught her knew exactly where to apply pressure shutting off motor function.

Passing over the Allegheny River she saw a row of docks for freighters and a nearby shipyard with steel crates stacked like LEGO bricks. Her stomach lifted; a warehouse crept into view and approached alarmingly fast. Almost too late Gwen realized she was no longer hindered by whatever snatched her away. Reacting quickly she arched her wings and spiraled toward a skylight and smashed through it landing on a stockpile of hay bales.

Gwen reared in time to see another batlike creature with a divine hourglass figure sail through the shattered opening and descend upon her; this one had a mohawk of tentacles on its head. She dodged and swooped in the confined space to keep a fair distance between her and her fellow abomination.

“AWAY!” she screamed grabbing a hay bale with her feet and lobbing. The other bat spiraled away from it and shot fast at Gwen striking her hard in the chest. Gwen crashed to the floor and was soon ensnared again. She flapped and clawed furiously. She left long tears in the skin of the other creature that lasting mere moments before sealing back up.

“Gwen, stop this! Get control of yourself!” the other creature demanded. Gwen was startled the creatures familiarity to her but wouldn’t be overtaken thus tucking her legs under then springing to catch the other she-bat by surprise. They landed in a pile of loose hay; Gwen positioned her wings close in front of her managing a choke hold on her attacker. The other she-bat struggled to say, “This isn’t you, Gwen. Please . . . please don’t do this.”

The bat that was Gwen didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to hear. She was a freakish malformation of scientific perversion and didn’t care what became of her innocence anymore. Gwen could sense the consciousness of her attacker begin to slip away. If she could hold on long enough, perhaps she’d be able to escape. As the moon crossed into view through the skylight however, Gwen discovered a marking on the assailant’s neck. It was the imprint of a tattoo choker. She released her grip immediately and screamed.

“Mmm-MONICA?!” Gwen shouted in disbelief. Now seeing the resemblance, there was no denying it. The styling of the hair and shape of her torso were unmistakable. For a pregnant moment the Monica bat lay motionless on the floor. “OH NO! NO NO NO NOOOooo!”

“Stop your screaming will you? It’s hurting my ears.” Monica pulled herself carefully and massaged the strain on her neck with the thumb of her left wing. There was no sound other than the distant churn of river waves lapping at the pier. Gwen held her hands (or what can best be described as hands) to her muzzle and studiously worked to avoid freaking out. “Never underestimate the grip of a gymnast,” Monica finally remarked.

“MON—” Gwen started then tried to cut the volume down on her voice. Drastic expression came easy; nuance and intonation was a bit more difficult. “Monica, what’s happened to me?” She looked at her nightmarish friend crawling nearer. “What’s happened to you?”

“You apparently didn’t get my note. That’s why I came after you.”

“I saw it but—but then . . .” Gwen stretched her arms forward in display to avoid stating the obvious.

“Gwen I’m really sorry I wasn’t there for you when it happened.”

“You knew this would HAPPEN?” The new she-bat was losing control of her calm.

“C’mere,” Monica said shifting closer to her friend. “Don’t say anything for a sec. Just wait.” Monica gathered her wings around Gwen’s trembling form. “I want you to just relax and listen.”

Monica went on to explain: “Last year on spring break when I went on a skiing trip with the other Pre-Meds to a Lodge in Fairbanks. We picked a windy day to go up the mountain. I wasn’t paying attention, and a heavy gust knocked me off the lift. I fell eighty feet folded in half across an icy embankment. I was airlifted to an Avery Warren clinic in Anchorage where they gave me the prototype vertebral manipulator appliance. Unlike you, I was awake most of the four weeks they had me in traction, but I’d often fake sleep so I would listen to the doctor’s conversations. They used stem cells and DNA from a Pteropus Vampyrus otherwise known as a flying fox fruit bat, chosen for their extreme flexibility and remarkable ability to heal. After almost two months I was finally allowed to come back home and return to college. I’d missed a lot in my classes and nearly failed one course because I was so far behind. The Warren institute in Pittsburgh reached out to me and offered an internship as long as they could monitor the stability of the appliance.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Gwen asked. “We were all wondering what happened.”

“I didn’t tell anybody. A couple days after coming home I felt low and without much warning I turned into this. The appliance took over. After a few hours I learned how to get a hold on myself and was able to modulate the change. The last several months has been a trying exercise in self control. Warren techs were good enough to make their checkups at routine intervals, so I knew how to hide it. I couldn’t let them know what it does, or they’d have me locked up for around the clock studying.”
“So you let them do the same thing to me?” Gwen accused.

“I had to. I needed them too. Never did I wish this on anyone Gwen. You have to believe me, but seeing as what happened happened, your only option was to either this or confinement to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. I’ve taken on some more nocturnal habits, but other than that, I can carry on with my life without any real interruptions. Then when I get the chance to stretch out, I let out the bat and have some fun.”

“This isn’t fun, Monica. I could’ve killed someone tonight. I’m a sick, disgusting, grotesque monster.”

“No you’re not, honey.” Monica pulled Gwen in closer. “You’re just having a bad day.” Following a pause she continued, “And besides, I look almost no different and I’ll be damned if you think I don’t look dead sexy.”

“Are you for real?”

“C’mon, let’s go.” Monica unwrapped her friend. “I know a place where you can rest. You look like you could use some time to wind down. Are you good to fly?”

“I guess.”

“Great. Follow me.” The two bat women fluttered up and out of the roof opening. Dawn was breaking on the horizon. Pink and orange hues danced in the sky. Two solitary dark figures soared away from the city in silence.

****

Hushed voices gathered near the entrance of a sturdy old wooden barn on the Athens Family Farm.

“Is she alright? How’s she doing?” Ben asked quietly approaching Monica who appeared as her usual goth girl self albeit her exposed arms showed some lingering vertical scrapes. “Are *you* OK?”

“Just a little girl drama. I’ll be alright. The priority here is Gwen.”

“I still don’t get why you didn’t call me sooner. It’s nearly nighttime.”

“She wasn’t in the entertaining mood earlier. Gwen needed rest. She was following my medical advice.”

“But you’re not a practitioner yet.”

“So I’m constantly reminded,” Monica snarked. “In you go.” She opened the side door to the barn and gestured inside.

“Coming with?” he asked.

“I’ve done my part,” Monica said shaking her head. “She needs something I can’t give.”

Ben entered the musty building. The door clicked quietly behind. He passed through a narrow corridor lined with garden tools carefully hung. Beyond the edgy lay the drive bay. There were a couple tractors and a mountainous pile of mulch that could be seen in the draining daylight.

“Everything you were saying I could hear,” a woman’s voice said. Ben recognized it as Gwen’s though it seemed different.

“I came as soon as Monica called me,” Ben said.

“That was nice of her,” Gwen mocked. “Did she take the whole day to pamper herself, go out for coffee, get her nails done, write a short novel? Meanwhile her so-called best friend remains here hidden away from the public and only remembered when it fits with her busy schedule?”

“Gwen what do you mean? What’s happened? Where are you?”

“You really want to see?” She waited. “Look up.” What Ben saw when she instructed him was appeared to be a body bag hanging from the rafters. It reminded him of an image from a horror film. Gwen opened her wings and let loose of the support beam with her feet; she dropped with a light thud onto the engine of the Husqvarna tractor and spread her arms out full. “Get a good look, because you’re never seeing it again.”

Gwen pirouetted twice then lept through the air toward the corridor where Ben entered. She landed on the soft ground and tucked in her wings aiming to leave, but a firm hand clasped on her shoulder. Gwen hissed and spun sending Ben against a wall of garden implements. A broom rake dislodged and whapped him on the head mid fall. He muttered his mild discomfort.

“Just get away from me, Ben,” Gwen said.

“Why should I?” he contradicted. “I spent days missing classes so I could sit by you in the hospital hoping but not knowing if you’d wake up because no matter what I love you and would stay with you. Most people thought you were gone.”

“I am gone.”

“Not to me you aren’t” he defended. “I don’t care what happened to you. But I’m not going to let you throw away what we have just because of something you had no choice over.”

Gwen settled against a wall and scratched at her rubber coated cheek thinking about his argument. “If I had never gone ahead and tried to compete, this never would have happened.”

“How the fuck could anyone have predicted *this* would happen?” You can’t go through life worrying what may or may not come to be or else you don’t live at all.

“Ben look at me?” Gwen opened her wings allowing moonlight to spill over her transformed figure. “Would you seriously say that this is something you would want in your life?” Ben was transfixed and couldn’t think of any way to reply that didn’t sound stupid or lewd. Despite her wing shape, she was still able to snap her thumb to get his attention. “Earth to Ben! Seriously, how can you say with a straight face that this is what you’d settle for when this world is filled with women that don’t . . . flap.” She realized it sounded dumb the moment it rolled out of her muzzle.

All he could think of to say was, “Haven’t you seen the things I carve?”

“Yeah, these weird little whatevers from sci-fi. So what?”

“I made them to look like you, remember?”

“Oh so what, you’re saying you get off on this?”

“Well I . . . um.” He was out of words.

“Oh my God,” Gwen spoke slowly. “You really do. I don’t know if I should feel disgusted or flattered.” She stepped toward him letting her wings hang low and finding no irony as she said, “You really are weird.”

Gwen had stepped close enough for Ben to quickly grab her neck and shoulder bringing them together into an impassioned kiss. WIth tears in his eyes and he pressed his lips to hers which wasn’t easy considering she was a foot and a half taller. She struggled with balance but eventually lost and fell to the ground on top of him. Ben continued to bathe her with affection. Gwen saw no fault in his conviction. He was acting out of unconditional love and wouldn’t give up until she knew it.

She felt strange. Her fingers wiggled independent of any webbing. Gwen’s face flattened. The black rubber skin retreated from her body back into the lattice construct on her back. She lifted her face away to look at the shape of her feet returning to what she’d known. Ben with eyes closed protested, “Don’t leave me, Gwen.”

Gwen sat up straddling his chest and asked him to open his eyes. Ben’s vision was met with a his girlfriend nude and perched on top of him. She giggled then leaned down to kiss him.

Outside the barn Monica sat on an old stump surrounded by tall grass. A folded picnic blanket lay in her lap. She puffed slowly on a joint to pass the time waiting for the lover’s quarrel to conclude, and was happy to hear the barn door open again. Ben escorted Gwen outside. Monica crossed to them with the blanket held out draping it over her friend’s shoulders. She left them alone to go inside the farmhouse (and spy from the front window).

“Ben, you’re too good to me. I don’t deserve it.” They walked across the lawn to his car opening their respective doors. Gwen was about to get in when a thought crossed her mind. “It’s too bad tomorrow’s a Monday.” He froze, understanding that she was still hours from feeling tired.

Ben shut his door and asked, “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh . . . I don’t know,” she teased. The picnic blanket fell to the grass. Gwen sauntered proudly with her arms out. Black ribbons stretched from her back weaving their patterns across her pale tight skin. When they covered her navel and delved into her soft folds she moaned joyously. Ben came to her side as though he was under a spell and admired the sight of her body being consumed in the ebony polymer. She curled her hands upward feeling the surge of energy course through her veins and transforming her nails into deadly claws.

“Now watch this,” she said with a ragged voice. He was watching; Oh God was he watching. Her wings started to reform stretching and bending in sync with her alluring hypnotic movements. Gwen yawned wide showing off her growing fangs, pointed ears, and elongated face.

So as not to awaken anybody, she inhaled deep and released a satisfied hiss. Ben swallowed hard; he was so aroused he could barely move.

“Put your hands on me, Benjamin.”

He gently touched the junction of stretched wing rubber where at her torso. It was pulled tight like a drum head. Her body was textured with seeming infinite criss-crosses perfectly contouring over every feature. His hands gravitated toward her nipples. Gwen’s eyelids shut as steam jetted from her nose. Regardless of her new skin, she could still feel every direct sensation. Ben explored her chest with his tongue. She was content to let him continue doing so until another idea formulated.

“Yes, it’s too bad there’s school tomorrow.”

Ben stopped and looked up at her answering, “Nothing I can’t make up later.”

“Hold on big boy,” Gwen commanded. No sooner than grasping around her neck did she kick off and burst into the open sky with her boyfriend dangling under the power of his own grip. The bat-girl swooped toward an aura of artificial light. Ben found himself hanging sideways as his girlfriend picked up speed. He buried his face in her bosom to keep the high winds from hurting his eyes. Then as soon as Gwen had reached critical speed she immediately began to slow down again. He looked down seeing jagged spires barely pass by. They were above a large flat square roof when Gwen set him down. He was too dizzy to stand. Ben easily recognized where they were though. The she-bat stretched her wings gloriously far and basked in the shimmer from the night lights of the PPG Place tower.

“You look like a dark goddess,” Ben whispered.

Gwen mussed her tentacle hair with a wing and feigned to blush remarking, “Oh you flatterer.” She kneeled deliberately and cull motioned him near. After pulling up the bottom of his shirt, the began to catch on to her intentions and undressed the rest of the way himself. Ben’s shaft was deep purple, aching for satisfaction. Every touch on his skin from her was bliss beyond measure.

She lowered onto her back and drew him into her ensnaring wings. He couldn’t escape, not that he wanted to. His cock found its target with no trouble. The skin of her abdomen rolled and pushed the tip of his penis along and down into her moist awaiting sex. Her vaginal walls rippled softly against his member.

“You can’t hurt me, but that doesn’t mean stop trying,” she said with a menacing grin. Ben spread his thighs and pistoned into his demonic muse fervently. His fingers plucked at her nipples, and he tried his hardest to bite her chin. This wasn’t love making, and Gwen was happy for that. He was lost in a cloud of pent-up, unfocused desire. She toyed with him now and again by twisting her pelvis kinking his thrusts. He bit harder making her squeal. Gwen bent her knees making her tunnel wider and flatter. Ben groaned low. She knew what would soon happen and hooked her feet behind his legs forcing him deeper.
“Oh shit!” he yelled. “Shit shit shit! I’m—I’m gonna . . .”

Gwen clamped her wings around his muscular torso and shrieked, “GIVE IT TO ME! ALL OF IT!”

Ben’s body spasmed like he’d been shot with a minigun. “NGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaa!!! he screamed. His scrotum clenched and unloaded everything he had. Gwen continued to buck and grind. She was nearly there and would have her big finish whether he was conscious or not.

“No-no-no-no-no YES YES YES!!!” she screamed. To Ben his enclosure suddenly became damp and filled with musk. Gwen’s wings fell away from him flat against the roof. His naked sweaty ass remained exposed to the night sky. He looked down as his girlfriend’s heaving body. He carefully removed his tender phallus from her warm hole. It was all that kept the flood at bay. Ben was quickly splattered with her discharge which carried with it remnants of his seed. He laughed quietly with elated exhaustion.

Nearby was the sound of a slow clap. Ben and Gwen turned their heads in the direction to see a rubber she-bat with a mohawk of hair tentacles sitting perched on a spire.

“Monica, you filthy pervert,” a relaxed Gwen called out.

“Wait a minute, Monica?” He was dumbfounded.

“Guess the secret’s out,” Monica said cooly. “Not a word to anybody or this is where we drop you from, got it?”

“Uh yeah,” he said slightly worried. “N-not a soul.”

“How did you find us?” Gwen asked.

“Echolocation,” Monica lied. Gwen sat up and wrapped Ben in her wings. She didn’t want him getting cold. “Aww, that’s so cute.”

“You got here pretty fast,” Gwen accused.

“Sweetheart, I can fly over 600 miles per hour,” retorted Monica.

“Really?” Ben asked.

“Yeah,” Monica assured. “And so can she if she wants too.” Ben and Gwen looked at each other. “Put enough fruit in her, she could fly from here to Shanghai and back in a day.” Monica turned her focus back to the now. “You alright if I leave you, Gwen?”

Gwen nodded holding her man tight and answered, “I’ll be just fine now.”

“Good to hear,” Monica said. “I’m gonna go play now. You two stay out of trouble.”

They watched as Monica dropped from the spire disappearing over the edge and back up fluttering out over the city skyline. She swooped high passing across the full moon then disappearing behind a skyscraper.

Ben yawned unintentionally. Gwen took notice and said, “You should probably get dressed.” She sat upon clawed feet watching with great amusement her boyfriend fumbling with his clothes. There was a wet stain on his pant leg thanks to her fervent expulsion. He didn’t say anything about it though. She turned her back and offered it to him when he finished putting on his shoes.

While flying home Ben said something provoking: “I have an idea that would improve business. Would you be interested in being my partner?”

“What good would I be?” she asked over her shoulder. “I’m not artistic.”

“The postal service is terrible,” Ben answered. “One out of five orders I send out have to be redone because I hear back from clients saying their figurines arrive broken. If I had someone more reliable to deliver them faster and safely . . . and discreetly.”

“You want me to be your carrier pigeon?”

“Oh . . .” Ben began with sheepish feelings setting in. “I didn’t mean that you’d have to . . . uh . . . that is you’re not obligated to . . .”

“I’ll do it,” Gwen said resolutely.

“You will?” He was surprised.

“Absolutely. Mom has bills to pay, and I will help any way I can. Just make sure your clients pay the Vamp Class shipping cost, you hear me.”

“Nothing but the best for my girl,” Ben said with a beaming smile. He saw the farmhouse approaching. They landed softly on the grass near the discarded blanket. She let him off his back then turned to him and held the ruff of his shirt.

Gwen said, “In that case you better find a place open this time of night where you can buy me eighteen Orange Juliuses.”

THE END

[edinjapan]

good story

[Johnhynden]

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