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Unread 03-03-2021   #25
LycanDope
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Office Bitch Ch. 03
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Anne forces herself to return to work for a semblance of normalcy.
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From my Patreon!

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I can hear the car crunching through the gravel while it drives away and my house suddenly feels huge and empty and silent. It's an unwelcome feeling that I've never noticed before.

His scent lingers. Sweat, deodorant and a complex mix of other little things that is just him. It's a thread of warmth in the sterile house and I follow it for a moment before I realize what I'm doing. Standing in the hallway to my bedroom, I clamp down hard.

I am in control.

And yet, here I stand, in the middle of a path of tan hairs lining a pristine white carpet leading into a bedroom that smells heavily of sex and Michael. I can feel my control slipping at the thought of him. I've never felt anything like that before. My father taught law and discipline and my mother still works as an investment banker. I can't remember a time since childhood where I didn't have a tight fist around everything in my life.

So I focus on the small things I can manage. Looking away from the bed. Closing my eyes and then opening them again when I see a memory of myself on the bed on all fours. As if I were a disembodied spectator.

Small things.

My cleaners will be curious about the fur. I'll need to leave them a tip and tell them a friend was over with a dog. Which dog? What- what kind of dog am I? I don't want to think down this path but I need an excuse. Always prepared. Always in control.

All fours with my ass in the air but I can only see myself as a generic furred creature. I try to feel disgusted but I can't and I feel my eyebrows knit when I bite the inside of my bottom lip. Pressing my thighs together at the memory of-

I'll just tell them I don't know. I'm not a dog person.

Oh god.

I can't stop the little laugh at the thought of that but it helps a little. A little. Some big fluffy brown dog and I forgot to close all of my doors before it got off leash. That is what I'll tell them.

Avoiding the bed, I go and open a window and turn on the oil diffuser I have plugged in next to my nightstand. It's not their business that I had sex and it's not something they would ever comment on but, for some reason, I can't stand the thought of them knowing what happened. I can't separate out the thought of sex with becoming that creature and I can't stop thinking that they'll just somehow know.

I move my ancient alarm clock slightly, back to where it's supposed to be. I got it as a birthday gift when I turned fifteen and I've had it ever since. A very sensible gift and it refuses to die. The box of tissues is out of place so I fix that. And the little jade bowl I got from a trip to Hong Kong. And my wireless phone charger since it got knocked over at some point. Now the cable from the alarm clock isn't straight so I move it back.

God it's hard to resist. He's hard to resist. The smell of him.

I breathe deeply, mouth closed, nose open, eyes closed, hand on the nightstand, lips parted slightly, chin up, feet apart and my right hand touches the bed while I crawl into it. Michael made it before he left. Sloppily. Just pulled the sheet and blanket straight without tucking anything in. I should make it again. Properly this time. Tucked and folded with the mound of pillows arranged just how I like them.

Instead, I lower my body. The untied belt slips free of my silky crimson robe and it opens.

Hands and knees. Lowering myself. Face to the bed. Rolling my head. Fingers clawing the blanket into little knots. Oh. Oh, god. Knots. Reddened cock spreading me open but no - it's Michael and the scent of him winding its way through my body. Whining as I taste him in my throat, remembering how I lapped his cum from my fingers last night. Moaning as it works down my spine, pulling my ass up with an invisible hand. Groaning when the robe slides over my hips until I'm exposed. Growling quietly when I pull myself flat and I feel my teats dragging against the blanket. My soaked panties feel cold against my hot pussy.

Reaching under myself and between my thighs, I grab my panties and feel the sharp prick of my claws sliding from my fingertips. They pierce the soft cotton and I jerk when the tip of a claw touches my sex, sliding around the strange, swollen lips until I slice through the band and pull, tossing the panties to the floor.

He's there. Under me. His pillow. The scent of him. The memory of him. His hands. His voice. My hips rock against the pillow he used when he slept. Humping it like the bitch I am. In heat. Riding the stitched edge of it while I reach up to grab the mattress and the headboard. Grunting and licking my lips. The robe strokes my back with every movement. Sliding against the sparse fur beginning to cover me.

Toes digging into the bed. Lowering myself. Feeling my ears sliding against skin and hair while my tongue dangles from my mouth. Almost there, Michael. Almost there. Back arched, shoulders back, little tuft of fur where my tail would be. I can feel it brushing against my bare ass every time I move.

"Fuck!" I bark harshly, voice cracking on the hard syllables. Hard to think. My stomach clenches and I nip at my left shoulder and whine. I raise my ass and hips and push back once more. My thighs are wet and sticky and I'm riding a wave of endorphins from the orgasm. It's an incredible release and I just want to lie down in our smells and the warmth within and just sleep.

My fur retreats while my breathing steadies. I can feel it beneath my robe and it makes me shiver in pleasure. Like a lover caressing my back.

I can't clearly remember the past few minutes. My head is still buzzing and I feel so good but angry as well. At my lack of discipline. I remember pulling myself together. Looking at my clock and then the edges of my memory fray and I see pieces. The scents and sensations overpower the rest of it.

No, I knew this would be difficult. After last night and this morning, I knew I'd struggle. I just have to keep trying. Working on it until I've got a handle on it.

I set up and dangle my legs over the bed. I should shower. I should. Hot and clean. I smell like sex with a faint trace of dog and I'm a mess. I like it, though. My juices. My sex. How it feels and the thought of it. But that's not right. Clean is better, isn't it? I shake my head and my lips tremble and I growl and then stand, shaking my head again. I don't need it, no. I smell natural and good and I know it'd turn him on to be near me and have my scent. To know me and what I'd done.

So I push off of the bed and nearly stumble before catching myself against the wall. Arms back so the robe slides from my body. Stepping lightly over to my walk-in closet and then inside, shivering as the coolness wraps around the heat suffusing my body. I can't help glancing back at the bed. Feeling the ghost of Michael's warm, comfortable body calling to me.

"Slacks or skirt?" I ask myself out loud, studiously ignoring the bedroom. I have to keep adjusting my stance because my natural posture has my thighs rubbing against my sex and it's really hard to overlook. And it's almost worse when I spread my legs because my lips stick to my legs and-

Ignoring that. Ignoring the thrill building in my lower belly again. Ignoring how huge and empty and silent the house is without Michael. I'm flicking through clothes without even looking at them while shuffling my feet and remembering his hand on my back and side.

"Goddammit!" I curse loudly, grabbing a pair of slacks and throwing them to the ground like a child.

Those little ghost muscles twitch in my ears and I whine, looking back at the bed with my head and shoulders hunched. No, he's not there. Thank god. That was bad. Childish. Bad. I pick up the navy blue slacks and scratch the back of my neck where I feel a few strands of hair pulling back into my skin. Why is this so damn hard?

Breathe. Through my mouth so it's easier to handle. And out. And back in. And out again.

Work on the little steps. I have to get ready for the meeting. I have to get dressed and go. To do that, I need to pick my clothes for the day. Every problem can be broken down into manageable tasks. That's what I learned growing up and in school. I'm meeting with the temp agency. Professional. Slacks and pumps. Nothing else on my calendar for the day that I can remember. A few phone calls I can put off and some monthly reports to read over. It's been a while since I've done a walkthrough to say hello to everyone. Was it Sandy's birthday? No. Something like that. Her husband's birthday? I'll have to check. And Michael will be there!

Another whine escapes my lips but I don't notice because now I'm worried about Michael again and whether he'll actually go to work.

I have his address on file at the office, I think to myself, holding the slacks to my chest. But is that wrong to look it up? I could call him and see when he'll be there. Or- or stop by his house. Apartment? No, no, no, hell no. That is wrong. It'll be fine. He told me he wanted to see me again. He hugged me and smelled good and even saw how I looked and wasn't grossed out. I should wear something nice for him. Something he'd like. A short skirt? Something to show off my legs. Above the knee? What does he like?

It takes a moment to realize what I'm doing - fawning over him and worrying about his needs before my own. Getting excited at the thought of pleasing him rather than considering what would work best in the office.

Holding the slacks, I go to my dresser and grab a new pair of panties, sliding them over my legs while blushing. Angry at myself again. Sitting on the bed, ignoring it, pulling on my slacks and then standing to work them over my hips. They're tight on me for some reason. I look down to see my lean stomach and firm sides. Is my ass bigger? Is this part of what happened to me?

Careful of my lowest set of teats, blushing even harder now, I zip the pants. They're tight and uncomfortable and show every curve of my body but I look damn good. Until I notice the rows of little black nipples on my dusky skin and stray tan hairs peeking over the waistband. I can cover those. A long shirt tucked in. It's okay. I can deal with this. Small, manageable tasks. But then I turn and bend and see the faint outline of my pussy compressed against my pants. Barely visible but if anyone were to look beyond a glance, they could see something different. Worse - I know it's there.

So I kick the pants off, lay them on the bed and grab a skirt. Well, I go to grab a skirt but it's a long skirt and it has been a while since I've shown my legs off. Instead, I take a pencil skirt down and hold it against my waist. It's an elastic band so it'd fit well. More breathable and comfortable and what man doesn't like looking at a woman's legs? I could ask him when he sees me. If he likes skirts more than slacks. I bet he would and the openness would allow my fragrance to reach him.

The thought of Michael's smile warms me and I start humming, imagining him grinning and hugging me like he did in the kitchen. I have to carefully pull the skirt over my lower belly but it feels okay against my teats and I can't see the nipples hidden beneath when I look at it. The skirt stops above my knees and I turn, going to my tiptoes to see how my calves look. He'll love it, I think.

Shirts are harder. The first button-down shirt I find is too tight and shows too much so I have to look around until I find a looser one. And even then, depending on how I sit, it can show a tiny out-of-place bulge if someone looked hard enough. Thankfully I have several blazers that button and those hide everything.

Glancing at the clock shows I'm running out of time. I grab my favorite pair of black heels and head for the entryway. My keys are in the dish by the door but my purse isn't where I normally put it. I think back but, oh lord, all I see is the red, sensual snippets of the evening. I can't remember anything about the car ride home now but trying to remember it makes a slow ache form between my legs.

Before the thoughts drag me back to the bed, I open the door and step out into the warm morning air.

God, it's a beautiful day. I can smell the morning dew evaporating on my lawn. An interesting mix of scents from the flowerbeds under my windows draws my gaze but my head snaps up at a rustling sound from the bushes on my life. My ears tweak and I take a half-step forward until I see a small grey squirrel burst through to climb the fence and race along the rails. I watch it intently for a second and then relax. Just a dumb squirrel. I kind of want to see where it went. Or whether there's more in the bushes. I hadn't even realized I had them on my property.

My SUV is right near the front door. Parked crooked in front of the garage. I can almost remember getting out. Almost. But, no. I push that away. It beeps when I unlock it and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see my purse inside through the tinted passenger window. I grab my door, open it and then pause.

I have an elegant yard and, like the inside of the house, I'd never really noticed it. I pay people to do the landscaping and I've only ever had anything to do with the yard when I've had parties outside. But, really, it's gorgeous. There's a wide flower bed surrounding the front of the house with rich, fragrant compost and trees providing shade throughout the lawn. Large bushes give a measure of privacy from the road but they're well trimmed and- my eyes widen, suddenly alert as one of the bushes move. My alert, yet human, ears catch the chittering of a small animal. It takes no small measure of concentration to ignore the hidden squirrel playing in my yard.

The verdant green grass smells like it was freshly mown but I can't even remember when the landscaping company was here last.

Wind rushes through the trees and I blink and breathe deeply of the immensely complex scents it carries. I'm suddenly tempted to just lie down on the grass and the compulsion is so strong that I close the car door. I can see it. And feel it. All in my mind's eye. Curled up. The grass a lush, green cushion beneath me. Michael at my side, his hand resting on my thigh. My back against him. Happy with just that little bit of contact. Of knowing he was there with me. Reading to me or just sitting quietly with me. I want it so bad. The peace and quiet and calmness of it.

A quiet, secret little thought forms and presents itself and I don't even feel the shame in asking it: what would it be like to feel the wind through my fur? Sunning myself in the open. Naked but for a light fur coat. His fingers scratching me slowly and the wind winding its way through my yard to kiss my warm fur. Kissing. Michael. Kissing my neck and shoulders. I have a strange dual image of him biting my human earlobes as well as the edge of my long dog ears and both deepen the ache within.

My throat vibrates with a quiet, agonized growl as I tear away from the daydream and force myself into my vehicle. I clear my mind of everything (focus on every little step), back out of my gravel driveway and onto the road.

For a good five minutes, I adjust myself. My strange vagina presses against the seat and every bump in the rood reminds me of it. There's no good way to sit but it's not quite so bad if I close my legs and lean forward. So I add a little note to my mental checklist to look for solutions because I'm already feeling aroused and my teats (missing his touch) brushing against my skirt and shirt while my pussy rubs (humping his pillow like a bitch and wishing it was his cock) on the seat is not helping.

I wish he were sitting next to me and I strain to smell him but catch nothing beyond leather, hot plastic and the very, very faint smell of sex.

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I barely remember the drive because I'm mentally going through a list of things to do for the day. Over and over, a litany of steps to prevent the other part of me from taking lead. So I'm almost surprised when I park in my designated spot on instinct.

Now I'm anxious. I whine and look around, licking my lips. I give myself a quick look but see nothing out of the ordinary except for a few flecks of gold in my brown eyes. No hairs or anything else out of place.

"You'll be okay," I tell my reflection again. She doesn't look completely reassured but it's all I have.

An employee waves in the distance when I get out and I wave back. I can't smell who they are but it looks vaguely like Ayesha. My key fob unlocks the executive door and I sigh in the suddenly cool air within the building. And then wrinkle my nose at the smells flooding the building. Recycled air, chemicals and years of people of various cleanliness. I have to breathe through my mouth until I reach my office.

But then a powerful smell makes me stumble.

I changed here.

I can almost see myself in my chair. The chair that's still facing the table in my office. I can't- I can't remember what- God. I feel myself grow wet, the tight muscles within slipping together when I drop to my knees and bow my head. Long black hair falling around my face. Panting. Raising my hips. Moaning.

Have to.

Have to focus.

I'm sweating. Groaning. Whining. Clawing at the carpet.

Focus.

Have to focus.

Taking a shaky breath, I stand and lick my lips with a rough tongue. Brushing loose hairs back over sharp, lightly furred ears. My clothes feel tight and restricting and I'm still panting, my wet tongue against my chin. I pull at my shirt and my nails scratch (claws in the bed on all fours with Michael behind me) my throat.

I got to my desk and lean on it, clumsily hitting the button for the receptionist.

"Yes, Ms. Williams?" Janice answers immediately.

"Is," I whine quietly and rock my hips while pushing my stomach against the edge of the desk. "Is M- Michael Brooks in yet?"

"No, Ms. Williams," Janice replies. "I haven't seen him yet."

"O- okay," I groan. Grinding my teeth as I hang up.

Focus. Please. Focus. Small. Small tasks.

I stare at my hand, clenched on the edge of the table. The fingernails bulge while I watch but I push and breathe and focus until the claws growing within withdraw. My pebbled nostrils flare and I huff, licking them once and then again but my tongue falls short.

The changes are retreating. I can do this.

Stick to routine, manage small tasks and focus on the immediate.

When I trust myself to move, I stand and go to my coffee machine. It's chrome and expensive and I don't even remember where I got it. A gift? I should remember something like that. No. I think I sent Janice out to find one while I was getting my office set up years ago. I start it, set a fresh coffee cup under the nozzle and go to my desk.

My phone buzzes and then Janice's voice intrudes. "The temp agency will be here within a few minutes, Ms. Williams. Shall I send them in when they arrive or do you want to meet them at the front?"

"Send them in please," I tell her. "And, Janice?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Can-" I swallow. Can you tell me when Michael is in the office? "Never mind. Thank you."

My coffee machine chimes politely so I retrieve my cup and go back to my desk to stare at the computer's login prompt some more. I take a sip, log in to my computer and immediately go to the employee section of our internal website. With a few taps and clicks, I have MIchael's information in front of me. He hasn't used his key fob to get in yet. I don't know the area he lives in very well but it's a bit of a drive from what I do know. So, he could just be late because of that. My hand twitches towards my desk phone but I make a hard fist and growl when my nails dig into my palm.

I can't help myself. I pick up my cell phone and add his information. My ears and cheeks burn the entire time but I want to have it just in case he calls and I don't know who it is. I hesitate for a moment and then click the little star button next to his new profile just as my desk phone buzzes again.

"They're on your way to your office, ma'am," Janice informs me.

Laying my phone down, I stand and then bare my teeth in a tiny snarl. I popped the top button of my shirt at some point and I'm showing more cleavage than I should. Before I can look for it, there's a knock on my door so I grab my cell and go to open it, forcing a smile.

June Templeton and a young man stand at the threshold. I step back and wave them in.

"Anne," June says, offering her hand. I take it and smile genuinely. She's a lovely woman and has been infinitely patient with my company and our staffing needs. "This is Terry. I'm showing him around a few clients to get him used to the routine."

The man offers his hand and I almost take it before I recognize a scent that's followed them into the office. Sperm. Fairly strong. Recent (claws in my mouth, cleaning Michael's cum from my fingers) enough that it's pungent. Probably used his hand to get off. The same hand he's offering me.

I pull an awkward maneuver where I adjust my shirt collar and blazer instead of shaking his hand. I smile brightly but his eyes dip down to see what I'm doing and linger for a second. My lips tremble, showing more teeth and I feel my hackles rise because fuck him he's not Michael and he doesn't get to leer at me. But then I feel pressure in my jaw and the scraping of teeth. Reflecting my anger. I close my mouth over my canines and let the pair pass into my office.

They sit at the table and I carefully take the same seat from yesterday and put everything I have into keeping my composure. My lips shift subtly when my teeth pull back.

June makes small talk for a moment and I keep my eyes on her. Short breaths to ignore the guy's smell.

We're about to get down to shop talk when my phone beeps. I grab it quickly, unlock it with my fingerprint and open the email app, eyes wide and scanning for an email from Michael. My ears twitch and shift against my hair. But, it's not him and I feel my pulse quicken from a sudden dose of anxiety. Tiny black hairs sprout from the backs of my knuckles and I lick my lips. I hate the constant worry over him. I hate thinking that he's forgotten me. I hate that he's not here.

I look up and suddenly realize what I've done.

"I'm so sorry," I say, shifting in my seat to find a comfortable position. Damn my fucking pussy. I hide my hands to my sides, praying they didn't notice what happened. "I'm expecting an important email."

"Oh, no," June says. "It's no problem at all. I know you're very busy."

I put the phone down with another glance at the email app and then give June my attention. We talk about staffing needs and how her recent warehouse workers have been spotty with attendance. We move onto drug testing and then financials for the new fiscal year but my phone beeps again. My hand twitches to grab it but I make another fist.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" I ask and, without waiting for an answer, grab my phone.

It's an email from Michael and suddenly the world is brighter and sharper and better. I wiggle in my seat and smile with a little yip, toying with a light spray of fur that's grown just above my cleavage.

A vacuum of sound makes me look up. June and Terry are staring at me oddly. I play back the last few seconds mentally but can't think of why. They stand when I stand.

"It's been a pleasure," I tell June, ignoring the man next to her. I need them gone. I need to get out there and see him. He's here! I shift my stance when bones click in my hips.

"Oh," June says awkwardly. She stands and gathers her documents. She seems confused for some reason but I don't really care. I just want her out of my office. "Shall- shall I set an appointment next week to go over the rest of the contract?"

"Okay," I tell her. Skin sliding between my ass cheeks, forcing me to lean on the table and swallow a moan and smile tremulously. Little hairs tickling me as I feel it brush my pussy. I turn and gasp but it stops. "I'll see you later!"

They leave and I hear them talk quietly outside my office, the man asking what was wrong with me and June quietly answering that she didn't know. I wait for them to get far enough ahead and then grab my coffee cup and step out into the hallway.

My tiny tail twitches between my ass, rubbing my lips and I stop to lean against the wall. It's getting harder to think but I keep going. Michael is at the other end of the office. I rub my cold nose and sneeze, thanking whoever blessed me as I passed.

It's getting hot and I'm feeling itchy. I scratch my hip and thigh and keep walking. Focused. Nodding at people who say hello. Wiping a tiny bit of drool from the corner of my mouth. My tail grows further. Wider now. I feel the heat from my pussy against the bare skin of the tail between my thighs. It's growing again. Sliding down. Pressing hard against my sex. Bulging against my skirt. I shove the heavy bar of the door that leads to the fledgling IT department and empty office spaces.

Except for Michael. He's there. Michael's there!

I growl and kick at my pumps and then lean down as little black claws slid forth. Slicing through the straps holding my feet in. I step out of my shoes and walk faster. I can see his head over the tall cubicle walls! Michael!

His head is down but I bark in excitement and he looks up and I bolt, turning the corner of his cubicle to slam into him. Kissing his lips and neck and cheeks and licking him, claws grabbing and scratching along his back. Pulling at his shirt and pants, lost in the moment until I gasp for air and then kiss his face with my wide, wet tongue.

I feel my tail swishing hard underneath my skirt and it hurts a little when it keeps hitting his desk but I can't stop it because Michael is here and he smells so fucking good and I'm rubbing my pussy against his thigh, soaking both of us while whining and kissing him and tearing at his clothes and he's trying to talk again so I kiss his open mouth and I almost have his pants undone god I can smell his cock even though he's showered and he's excited and happy to see me and my tail is slamming hard against the desk, pulling at my hips and ass while my ears twitch back, sliding through my hair.

"W-w- wait, Anne!" Michael gasps, holding me back. He's wiping at his face so I lick him again and he tries to hold me harder. I grab at his hands to put them on my ass and back and hips and breasts. Everywhere because every single inch of my body is screaming for his attention. "You- You can't-"

The door to his part of the building creaks and my ears swivel.

Why are pants so hard?! I paw at him, fingers fumbling for his button and then I yip when it's undone and I'm unzipping him.

"Hey Michael, I've got a question," a voice says.

Michael's hands are on my head, pushing me down hard so I go down like the good girl I am. My skirt flexes, pulling up to my hips and my freed tail curls up to my blazer. Michael moves forward so I move back and tear at my clothes until the blazer falls to the ground and I feel less constricted.

They're talking but I don't care. He's right there. I pull at his pants and his hand slams on the desk which makes my ears flatten. I look up at him carefully. Was I bad? A bad girl? No. No, he's not looking at me. I'm not the bad girl.

My hand takes his cock and I groan quietly. Squeezing it. Kissing the tip of it. Pressing my cold nose against it and against his pubic hair, kissing and licking at him. At the powerful scent where his thigh meets his crotch. Pumping him slowly until I lose the sensation of him in my hand. Looking up, I see the pads forming. The mocha skin of my palms bulging. He jerks when the thick, leathery skin enfolds him completely and then tenses when I take him into my wet, eager mouth.

My long tongue swirls against the head of his cock and my ears lay flat while I push down the length of him. I can feel myself starting to gag so my nose flares and I breathe and push slower. Wanting all of him. And then back, careful with my sharp teeth. They're still talking. The other person is. The other man. Not Michael. I lick the length of him and my tongue folds around his manhood before I take him again. Easier now. Easier to shove my little muzzle down his cock.

I spread my furry thighs and rub my pussy against the short carpet. Not enough with my panties still on. I reach back and slice through them until I cut the band. The raw sensation of the rough carpet on my bare sex drives me wild. I reach forward and my claws dig into his hip and he leans forward more. Up and down. Faster and faster and faster until-

Hands grab my face and I look up to see Michael sweating and breathing hard. My tail thumps against the inside of his desk and I pull off of him with a loud gasp of air, my tongue hanging loose. Head to the side. Fur creeping up over my long ears. I shiver and whine and reach back to claw my shirt because the fur growing there is driving me insane but Michael takes my hands and pulls me up.

I go to him and then keep pushing back until he's sitting on his chair and I'm sitting on his knee. Popping more button on my shirt and pulling my bra down to press the nipples against his mouth with my paws at the back of his head. Whining in his ear.

"Anne, you- Anne," Michael is saying. I kiss his lips again and try to pull his mouth back to my aching, throbbing nipple but he pulls back. His hands grab my waist and my tail wags hard behind me. "Anne, you have to slow down!"

"Michael," I whine, biting at his ear. Head against his head, tongue lapping at his shoulder. Pressing as hard against him as I can. "Need. Inside. Me."

"Anne, if you change all the way again, I can't get you out of here."

I move, trying to straddle him but he's sitting too far back and the arms of his chair are blocking him. I lean my chest back and my hips forward, pressing my pussy against his cock. Sliding back and forth. Reaching for him to pull him forward. Trying to pull my hands out of his grip.

"Anne- you- Anne- you have to- Anne!" Michael yells.

My ears go down and I freeze, whimpering.

"Anne, I'm sorry," Michael says. "I just- I just need you to slow down a little. We can't-"

"Sorry," I gasp. My hips twitch and I try to control them because I'm bad. I'm a bad girl that doesn't listen and I can't mount him and he's mad at me and I'm bad. "Want. Want you."

He starts to talk to me, his voice falling into a calming rhythm that relaxes me despite the heat raging through my body. I can't quite focus on the words but they don't sound angry so I move a little bit and the fog clears just a little bit. Just enough.

"Can't help it," I gasp, rocking my body. He's so close. I just need him to move slightly and he'll be inside of me. My shirt is open, exposing my bare, sweaty chest and nipples. A thick patch of tan fur covers the tops of my breasts, disappearing beneath my bra and reappearing in a line down to my pussy. My thighs are bare but slick with my excitement.

A spasm hits my foot so I press my head against Michael's shoulder. It's a quick, sharp pain that fades and rubbing the soles against the carpet seems to help. I try to dig my toes into the ground but the pile is too short and the claws piercing my toes catch the backing.

"Michael, please," I whisper, pressing hard against him. He's still talking but his hands are slipping under the back of my shirt, pulling at my fur and curving around my wide ass to pull at my tail. I whimper and lick his ear.

He stands and I stand with him, grabbing his cock. I try to go to my tiptoes to slip his cock inside of me but my feet are wide and padded and tipped with claws so I can't. He grabs something from his pants and then moves until his back is against the wall. I follow and then go down with him when he sits. My pussy rubs against his shirt, lower belly and then over his cock. Before, my lips would open and I could feel my lover's dick between them but these lips don't and it's frustrating so I whine and lick Michael's face.

"I have condoms," he says. His face is red and hot and his words are breathless. He's so hard. I lean forward over him, nipples dragging through the hair on his chest while I grab his cock under me, pressing it against my thick lips. "Wait, the condoms-"

I sit back hard and open for him and he sighs, his hands grabbing my ass to spread them.

"Yesss," I hiss in his ear as I take all of him inside of me. Searching his eyes to see if he feels good. To see if I was making him happy. He tries to kiss me but my tongue is too much and I don't have a full muzzle yet so I lean back to give him a nipple. He bites it gently and then nuzzles against the tan fur sprouting there.

"Don't change more, Anne," he groans. He sucks at me and looks up. "Stay with me. Stay with me, Anne. Don't change more. I can't last like this. I can't last long."

The words help, anchoring me in place and it slows. He grips my fur coat and tail and pulls me down hard. I watch him. Watch his expressions. Biting back a loud bark when he pulls my tail harder. Feeling fur turn to skin on my thighs when they slide against his pants.

"Cum," I beg him. I can feel my orgasm but I'm anxious about upsetting him earlier and I can't feel it close. Edging me. Even with the waistband of my skirt rubbing against my teats, I know I'm not close enough. Wanting it badly but needing him to get off before me. To feel him burst inside of me, filling me with his seed. Rocking back and forth, taking him so deep it almost hurts. "Please, Michael, please. Please. Cum inside. Me. Tell me. Tell me I'm good girl, Micha-"

It triggers him and he grabs me, pulling me close, burying his face in my fur while my tight pussy milks him. I bark and he shakes beneath me, his hand snaking up to cover my mouth because I'm a bad, loud girl that can't control herself. I stop, feeling him swell. Tensing my pussy in counterpoint. Licking his hand to show him I'm being good. That I can be a good, quiet girl. I'm a good girl.

He moves and his cock pops out of me and I feel a spray of hot cum hit my ass and tail and back.

"S- sorry," he says. He looks drained. Tired. I lick his cheek carefully, ears back.

"Like you. Marking me," I tell him quietly, blushing at the thought of it. At the truth of it. At the intensity of the whole thing. At the thrill of pleasing him. "Was- was I a good girl?"

"Yes," he rasps and his hands grab my ass again. My tail wags hard enough that he has to hold me in place. I yip and hug him tightly and kiss his face over and over until he holds me down. I lay against him while he talks, rambling. I listen to his heart more than his words. The heavy, steady thrumming and relaxes and slowly, slowly, the changes withdraw.

My mind clears before I'm completely human but I still lay there, listening to him. Sweating. Horny as fuck. I'm tempted to ride him. No. I want to go on all fours and spread my legs and whine at him to fuck me more. And I'm not ashamed of any of it. But I'm at work. I realize that now. I remember that now. And somebody (oh god, I gave him a blowjob while someone was talking to him!) could walk in any time.

And why the fuck does that thought just turn me on more?! I ask myself. Language. I'm normally more controlled than this.

I watch thick fur retreat into my arms and the coal black padding on my palms grow loose and then shrink until my palms are smooth. As before, I try to be disgusted at all of it but I can't. I can't feel anything more than the heat and the comfort of Michael's embrace. I never want to move but I know I have to.

With a sigh, I sit back. He watches me with a serious look that I can't place. I lean forward, hesitate and then kiss him softly, melting into his arms again when he kisses back.

After an eternity, I stand and survey the damage. I'm full of his cum and I feel it, cold and sticky on my ass. I want to reach back and clean it off with my bare hands. To lick it off my fingers again. To kneel, tail in the air and bathe his cock with my tongue. To mount him and-

Growling, I look away and grab a tissue, wiping my ass and throwing it away before I lose control again. He stands, apologizes and helps, cleaning my skirt as careful as he can. I pull the skirt down and am grateful to see no tears. I ball my wet panties up and hold them tightly in my fist.

My shirt is a mess. It's covered in my fur and almost all the buttons are missing. The blazer is even worse since it looks like I tore at it with my claws but I do the best I can. We make do with tape to hold everything together and then we stand there awkwardly.

I can smell his concern. And his lust. It riles me to no end.

"Kiss me?" I ask him, blushing that I even asked but he leans forward and kisses me hard, crushing me against his body. I hold him in a tight hug and then we separate again.

I don't want to leave but I know I have to. For appearances sake if nothing else.

"Have dinner with me tonight," I tell him, grabbing at the edge of his untucked shirt. "Stay with me tonight. Please. I can't- the house is empty without you."

He nods and swallows and looks pained for a brief moment. I whine and bite my lip, worried I did something wrong but he kisses my forehead and I sigh happily.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," he says.

I go quickly before I lose my nerve. There's a side entrance that leaves the building. I take that rather than do the walk of shame through the entire office. There are a group of smokers about twenty feet away but they're too focused on their conversation to see me. I walk behind cars to hide myself from the windows and then circle around to the executive entrance until I'm sitting safely in my cool office.

The urge to masturbate is stronger than it has ever been in my life. The heat is undeniable and alien and it's powerful enough to make my teeth itch.

But I want to orgasm with Michael. I want him to give me that pleasure. To claw his back when I cum for him. To show him what he does for me. It's painful but I ignore it and focus on the small, manageable steps ahead of me. As always.

Dinner at my house tonight. My empty, huge house where the cleaning people and landscapers have spent more time than I have. With the bowl of fake fruit on the kitchen island and the couches and chairs that I've rarely sat in and the yard I've rarely stepped through. I've lived more in this office than I have at home. Parsing spreadsheets and budgets and building a never ending business.

I log into my computer and open a private browsing window. And then I stare at the screen, pushing my coffee cup around my desk. Long black fingers with clear nails that I've always kept short. Seeing the memory of the claws growing in my mind's eye. Wild. Uncontrollable despite everything I've tried. Thick with fur and teeth and need and his seed.

The screen falls asleep and I wake it again while I stare at my hand and the coffee cup. My mind is a million miles away but I keep waking the computer when it falls asleep until, finally, I begin typing in the search bar.

---

My doorbell chimes softly and I bounce up from my uncomfortable, firm couch. I'm wearing a new skirt and yet another button-down shirt and I'm pleased when I open the door to see Michael in dress clothes as well. I'd told him it was a special dinner and I'd like if he dressed for it. I pull him inside with a wide grin and a wagging tail that's not really there. At least not right now.

My kitchen table is lit with candles and there's a bottle of wine chilling in a fancy, decorative ice bucket that I didn't even know I had. Dinner is horrible and smelly but I cooked it myself. I never cook but I did for him. I apologize for that and blush to the tips of my ears while I lead him to the table. He lies and says it smells fantastic and takes a bite when we're seated and ready.

We talk. About work. About some of our childhood. About everything other than what I've become or what we're doing and I appreciate that. It's a lovely evening and he has a wonderful sense of humor. A few times he looks uncomfortable or upset at something so I change the subject each time. His eyes stray to the white box near my wine glass but he never asks about it.

When dinner winds down, I tell him I have something to say. His face goes blank but I tell him it's a good thing and not to worry. But I still hear a whisper in the back of my mind and an itch between my shoulders and I almost whine.

Instead, I grab the little box and lead him to the living room. I ask him to wait by the couch while I stand in the center.

I undress for him. My eyes never leave his while I slowly unbutton my shirt, top to bottom. One at a time. I pull the shirt open at the first set of teats and watch his eyes widen. Further I go until it's undone and I shrug out of it.

My heartbeat feels so fast.

Reaching behind, I undo my bra and let it fall, too. My firm breasts ache for his touch. Still watching him, I unzip myself at the side until the skirt falls around my feet.

Now I start to feel self-conscious. Despite everything I've done to prepare myself for this, despite talking through everything until I'd made a decision, my arms twitch to hide my body. I ignore it and slip fingers through my panties, pushing them down until I have to step out of them.

Feet wide, legs open. Showing him who I am. He opens his mouth to ask something but I hold a finger up and he goes silent. I take the box and hold it

"I've lived a life of control," I tell him. My heart is racing and my head is pounding and my mouth is dry yet I'm so warm right now. "Whatever happened to me took that away. I have no control. Not with you. Not with myself. Sounds and smells and tastes all pull at me, distracting me. And you, god. You. I can't think straight when you're around."

I swallow and then kneel, sitting back on my heels.

"It's liberating," I say. "I've never realized it. Each time, it's a release. Like I'm finally relaxing a muscle I've held forever. All of my worries, all of my concerns, every thought of the future goes away and the world shrinks to one thing. You. Your happiness and needs. I should hate this. All of it. What I've become and what you do to me but it's made me realize that I can't always be in control. That's not life. What it does to me is addicting and freeing and I'm starting to want it."

"Anne, I-" Michael says but I hold up my hand again.

Leaning forward in front of him, I open the box and spread the tissue paper within. I spent the afternoon reading and researching and then shopping. I still blush at the memory of it but the thrill overpowers me. The idea of giving up control, of giving it over to someone else and living according to their desires calls to me. The duality of it is intoxicating. To have control and to give it away completely.

"Please," I tell him, pulling the object from the box. I place it gently in my mouth and go to him on all fours until I'm kneeling in front of him. Taking it from my mouth, I hold it up to him.

Michael holds the red leather collar with the small gold buckle and turns it over in his hands.

I pull the hair away from my neck, feeling it brush against the fur beginning to spread along my neck.

I look up at him.

Begging.

"Master."
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Unread 04-04-2021   #26
LycanDope
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Slow Burn [F Demon & Hellhound TF]
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A young woman becomes cursed and changes into a demon
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From my Patreon!

You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham
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The bus screeched to a stop with a hiss that went unnoticed by the unruly children riding in their seats. Waves of laughter echoed through the vehicle along with the muted sounds of videos playing on phones.

Fatma slipped her arm through her backpack's strap while stepping into the aisle. She carefully made her way through the chaos, moving around splayed legs and bags until she reached the driver.

"Thank you," she told the driver with a smile, as she had every day. It was a substitute today, an older woman she didn't recognize but the other woman smiled and nodded back at her.

Holding onto the thin metal railing, the young girl stepped onto the street and then up to the sidewalk. The bus' door closed behind her before it pulled away onto the empty street. As she walked down the block, she adjusted her hijab around the straps of her backpack. Her scarf was black today to match her black trousers and the slate gray blouse she wore.

Habit forced the girl to glance up at the yellow house adjacent to her own. Her father, a baker with his own modest shop, often gave food to the elderly in the neighborhood and he took her with him whenever he could. Ms. Maiben was their neighbor and she was old enough to have trouble getting around by herself. The woman was her father's special project; he made extra time to care for her grounds as well as bring her food.

The old woman's curtains covered her windows, as they usually did - even during the day. She was odd. Quiet, seemingly resentful of the attention but unwilling to turn away the extra help.

As she took the first step to her front door, it opened and her father stood in the doorway.

"Fatma!" he said, bending to gently kiss her forehead. His dark beard tickled her exposed forehead.

"Papa, why are you home?" she asked in confusion. Her father worked late, despite having several employees who could run the business without him.

"Bah," he told her, taking her hand gently to lead her inside. "I haven't been home to greet you in a while and a I thought to myself, I am the shepherd to my own little flock and-"

"You forgot your laptop again, didn't you?" she chided him as she removed her shoes.

"I forgot my laptop again," he agreed. "I brought dinner for you. And Nora? Is she visiting with you today? I have extra for her if she wants it."

"She'll be here soon," Fatma said. "If you fatten me up so much, I'll never find a husband, papa."

"La samah Allah!" he told her as he followed her through the living room and into the kitchen. "How was school today?"

"It was fine," she sighed. It was not fine. She'd not done well on her calculus exam. She'd told herself she would study for it but had lost herself in the short story she was writing for English composition.

"And your - math, wasn't it?" He asked, standing respectfully at her bedroom door. "You had a test today? Or is that tomorrow?"

"Today," she answered, laying her backpack against her bed.

"Ahh, not so good?" he asked in sympathy.

"I'll find out Friday. I should've studied more."

"You're a smart girl," he told her. "Perhaps you'll be surprised."

The doorbell rang, interrupting both of them.

"That will be our Nora. I'll let her in."

Fatma watched her father go before digging through her backpack to find her composition book. She set it aside on her nightstand.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Amin," her childhood friend said.

"Nora, good to see you!" came the reply. "And it's just 'Faizan', please. You're like family."

"Forgot your laptop?"

"Yes, yes! I forgot my laptop. Go. On with you. Fatma is waiting in her room. I'll set out food for the both of you."

"I have no idea how your father runs a business," Nora said as she stepped into her friend's bedroom. She turned her head to settle a few strands of loose black hair behind her as she threw herself down onto the other girl's bed.

As always, Fatma felt envious of her friend. Nora wore blue jeans and a black t-shirt with the word "Badlands" emblazoned along the top and skeletal hand covered in roses in the middle. Her hair was uncovered and loose.

"I'm sure he's waiting for you to finish school so you can help him," Nora continued. "I'm jealous, to be honest. You can stay here, take some classes at community college and inherit his business. I'll have to go to college and find a rich boyfriend."

"Oh, stop," Fatma said, rolling her eyes at the conversation. It'd been repeated in some form or another over the past two years. "You know I'm applying for colleges out of state."

"Your father would d- waste away without you," Nora said. "He'd never stop you but he'd be so sad. What's wrong with community college, anyway? You have a good job waiting for you."

"I've lived here my whole life!"

"Okay, I don't care about your job. I just want you to stay because I want to see you and Duncan married."

"That will never happen," Fatma said, blushing as she toyed with her hijab. "Papa wouldn't-"

"I think your father would steal the moon for you," Nora interrupted. "And have you seen the way Duncan looks after you?"

"No," she lied.

"You're blind," her friend said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "He's been after you since our Freshman year. Do you know Elina asked him out to prom. Again! And he said no. Elina, Fatma. He's going to ask you out. He's stubborn. And handsome. I should ask him out."

"You wouldn't!" Fatma said, suddenly upset.

"Why not?" the other girl said, her expression serious. "If you won't, why should I let him get away? You're so stupid sometimes, seriously. I was talking- just talking! - with Matt. Last month Duncan was applying Stanford, UCLA and, well, somewhere else in California. Until he heard you talking about east coast colleges. Guess where he's applying to now?"

Fatma sighed. The boy was handsome with his dark skin and brilliant smile. But, it was more than that. He was always kind. He wouldn't graduate at the top of his class and was mediocre, if not enthusiastic, in sports. But, he volunteered at the soup kitchen on the weekends and was a Big Brother as well. And tall. With the smoothest voice. And his dimples every time he smiled.

"Hello?" Nora asked, waving her hand in front of Fatma's face. "Anyone there?"

"I don't know where he's applying," she answered.

"Uh-huh."

"Girls?" Faizan called out from the kitchen.

"Yes, papa?" Fatma asked, grateful for the distraction. She pushed herself out of her bed to go to her father.

"I need to go back to work," he said, scratching at his beard with his lips turned up at the corner. He looked concerned. "Ms. Maiben hasn't answered her door the past few days. I'm worried about her. Would you take the time to check on her, please? If she's home, I have a dish covered in the fridge that you can take to her."

"Now?" Fatma asked, turning to look at the woman's house through their windows.

"Yes, please," her father answered. He kissed her forehead again. "I'll be back late tonight. Your food has your name on it. Just warm it up. Study well."

She watched him go while clutching her right arm with her left.

"I'm not-" Nora called from the bedroom.

"You're coming with me!" Fatma interrupted, ignoring the groaning of her friend. "Let's just do it now. I don't want to go there when it's dark."

"You owe me for this," her friend said as she stomped loudly on the hardwood flooring.

They stepped into their trainers, bending to tie their shoelaces.

"Do you have any more kanafeh?" Nora asked as she knotted the strings. "I'll take some of that as payment."

"Yes, you cow," Fatma said, poking her friend's side. The other girl batted away her hand. It was a joke as Nora was embarrassingly perfect. She was still growing into her figure but her narrow waist curved into firm hips and she'd already had to buy a new, larger bra this school year. "Let's just go."

Tapping her back pocket to make sure her old phone was there, she grabbed a set of house keys from a dish by the door, closing and locking it behind the both of them.

"She's just so old, you know?" Nora said as she followed her friend to the house next door. "My grandmother was horrible to my mom but turned into the sweetest old lady. That's just natural. Ms. Maiben - she's mean."

"No she's not. She's just not used to people being nice to her."

"Mean," the girl reaffirmed.

They both stopped in front of the woman's door. It'd been red at some point but the paint had almost all chipped away. Shaking her head, Fatma adjusted her hijab before knocking.

Although she didn't knock hard, the door opened on surprisingly quiet hinges.

The two girls shared a look but Fatma's hand reached to push the door open.

"Don't," Nora said, grabbing her friend's wrist.

"She could be hurt," she said, pushing through to step over the threshold.

The house was as dark as she remembered with a strong scent of myrrh permeating everything.

"Ms. Maiben?" Fatma called out. "D- Dorothy?"

"I've never been inside," Nora said, looking around the living room. An old paisley couch faced a fireplace and a stained mantelpiece. A single, faceted vial was centered on the shelf. Light flickered within the vial, drawing the young girl's attention. "What is that?"

"Don't touch anything!" her Fatma whispered. "Help me look for her."

Ignoring the other girl's advice, Nora gently took the glass bottle, turning it to observe the bouncing light. It glowed red before fading to dark yellow and back again.

"Ssst! Put it down!" Fatma said from the other end of the living room. "That's disrespectful! She could- Ms. Maiben!"

The old woman was stretched out in her hallway. She feebly reached for the young, hooded girl with her right hand. As she grew near, Fatma realized that the left side of her face was drooping. Spittle lined the old woman's lips but her throat moved as she tried to speak. Yet all that came through was a stuttered 'k- k- k-' sound.

"Lie still! I'll call for help." She grabbed her smartphone from her pocket, waking it with her fingerprint while pulling up the dialer. "Nora! Get in here!"

"Coming!" Nora said. She set the bottle on the mantel and walked away.

The light inside the bottle slammed against the side. The little vial lay precariously on the edge of the shelf, already rocking slightly in the still air. Again and again, the light pounded on the glass, pulsing with each strike.

Poised as it was, the bottle tipped over. It landed heavily on the floor but the smokey lead glass held as the slim stopper began to slip free.

"I'm here," Nora said, crouching to touch the old woman's left arm. "Is she alright?"

"I think she had a stroke," Fatma said before leaning into her phone. "Yes? Yes, I'm calling from 320- umm, 3203 Swallow Lane. It's my neighbor's house and I think she had a stroke. Yes, I'm with her, yes."

The old woman's glazed, distant eyes focused with a sudden intensity. She stared past the two girls as her mouth opened in a silent scream. She convulsed, eyes rolling back in her head. The frozen side of her face moved glacially to match her right side until it became of rictus of horror.

A raspy wheeze escaped the woman's lips as her hand fell to the floor beside her.

"I don't- wait," Fatma said. "How do I-? I think- I think she's not breathing! How do I tell if she's breathing?!"

Nora placed two fingers against the woman's wrist while leaning in until her cheek was an inch away from the woman's mouth.

"Fatma-" she said quietly while sitting back. "Fatma, she's dead."

"But, she was just- I was just-"

"Give me the phone, it's okay. Just give me the phone."

The girl took the phone from her friend's hand. "Yes, hello. I checked for a pulse at her wrist but there's nothing. And I can't feel her breathing. At her temple? Okay."

Fatma sat back, staring sightlessly as the emergency operator ran Nora through a few simple tests. Just blocks away, the blaring sound of an approaching medic unit cut off as they received the updated call. She eventually felt hands around her as one of the responders led her away from the body. They sat with her, checking to ensure she was alright until she heard a familiar voice.

"Fatma!" her father called out, rushing to her side.

He spoke to her gently, soothing her as he walked her out of the house and into their own. She leaned against him until he brought her to her bed. They sat together and she cried into his chest while he patted her back, his hand rubbing in little circles until she was exhausted from crying. He pulled her blanket back as she lay down and then brought it up to her shoulders before kissing her forehead.

The young girl stared at the ceiling. She saw her face in the flat, white paint. The way she looked at the end - terrified as she breathed her last gasp.

it's your fault

She shivered, blinking away tears. It felt like her fault. If she'd just been faster when calling emergency services. If she'd taken the first aid workshop her school had offered.

she died because of you

Her conscience tugged at her insecurities, taunting her as the worm of self doubt began to gnaw on her mind. The old woman's visage was lodge into her mind's eye. Never, in all of her eighteen years, had she seen anyone look like that beyond some melodramatic actress in a horror movie she'd watched through the gaps in her fingers with Nora laughing next to her.

Whether the woman felt her end drawing near and the realization frightened her or she caught sight of the gates before the abyss of Jahannam, she'd been terrified.

fire and eternal slow torture pain until they dream of it welcome it to feel alive

I seek refuge in Allah, she intoned mentally, closing her eyes while touching the tip of her pointer finger with her thumb on her right hand. She was alive and she hated the feeling of relief that it was Ms. Maiben dead but not her. The thought tortured her as an image began to form from the fragments of her dreams.

The visualization of Hell felt incredibly real to her. She could see Maalik roaring at her, the fiery winds stripping away her flesh to reveal bloody red muscle beneath. Behind him, the heads hanging from Zaqqum turned to see her. And they nodded as if recognizing her.

Her thumb pressed against her index finger as she continued her litany, tapping each finger in sequence. I seek forgiveness from Allah. I seek refuge in Allah.

As she repeated the small prayers, a headache formed behind her eyes. It began as an annoyance but grew in intensity until she stumbled with her prayers, forgetting the words. The relief was almost instant. She sighed, pressing her palms against her temples, rubbing them in slow circles.

consumed her soul sent below to what she deserves trapped but free now free

Despite the lessening, the pain consumed her and she knew she deserved it. Her guilt trapped her and she knew she wouldn't be free until she could clear the black mark on her soul.

A flickering red flame appeared above and behind her head as she nestled her face into her pillow. It cast no light and made no shadows as it descending.

blessed blessed blessed blessed blessed blessed

It lowered until it rest less than an inch over the middle of her forehead. She sighed, stilling herself while it flattened against her, spreading to cover her brow. Her headache faded and she sighed once again at the relief. As the fog cleared, she realized how blessed she was. Alive, safe, loved.

She rubbed the sore tips of the fingers on her right hand as she finally opened her eyes.

The veins stood out in the sclera of her eyes until the white held a red tint. They twitched as if tiny tentacles, pushing and pulling against her iris. The pressure compressed her pupils, crushing it until they were subtly ovoid.

weak hungry

Sweat welled from her skin. She felt feverish and weak with her head still throbbing and her joints aching. Worse, she felt empty. The girl thought back, realizing that she hadn't eaten since her light lunch. She remembered her father saving food for her but the thought of eating food made her nauseous. Tossing back her blanket, she lay in the cool air with her fist against her stomach. Her hunger confused her.

Turning her head, she opened her mouth, nearly panting as she overheated.

The rounded circumvallate papillae at the back of her tongue quivered. They lengthened into rough points that massaged the roof of her mouth when she swallowed. Dark violet coloring tipped each of the new papillae. The color streaked down like miniature lightning strikes until it coated the small, previously pink flesh.

Sleep took her. She twisted and mewled with her dreams. They were formless. Primordial things existing as flashes of color (red, so many shades of red, muscle and blood and fire and-) and emotions (anger and hate and guilt and shame and-) and desires (lust and power and pleasure and violence and-) that left her groaning and clawing at her stomach.

---

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Nora asked, her eyes darting over Fatma's exposed face. "Your eyes are still really red."

"I'm fine," Fatma said, rubbing at her eyes. She hadn't believed her friend until she looked at herself in the girl's bathroom. Her eyes were bloodshot and she'd received a few strange looks as well as snickering jokes about her hotboxing marijuana. But she felt fine. In fact, she felt great. Rested and alert.

lie hide hungry too hungry yet

Just hungry. She rubbed at the roof of her mouth with her tongue, relishing the odd scratching at the back of her throat. Her jaw was sore, from the roots of her teeth to the joints beneath her cheeks.

"I wish you'd stop mentioning it. I was just restless last night," she lied, rubbing the sleeves of her arms. She carried the brown bag her father had made for her for lunch while they hunted for a free seat in the crowded lunchroom.

They sat far in the back and Fatma tugged at her hijab to hide her irritated eyes. She opened her bag, taking out the food one-by-one until she found a small folded note in the bottom.

Her father's neat handwriting covered the scrap of paper: Daughter, I wish you'd stayed home but I admire your courage for going. La Hawla Wala Quwwata Illla Billah!

As she finished reading, her hand cramped, crumbling the paper in her fist as pain formed behind her eyes.

lies simpering excuses

La Hawla Wala Quwwata Illla Billah! There is no might nor power except with Allah.

She felt herself bristle at the sentence. It felt weak, as if to excuse her own strength in dealing with Ms. Maiben's death. A lie told as a crutch to deal with the emotional pain of the situation.

Nearly invisible wisps of smoke curled between her fingers as the edges of the paper within her hand turned black before flaking away under the pressure of her grip.

No, she told herself, pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes squeezed shut. It's just this headache that keeps coming back. Papa means well.

Nora chatted while Fatma picked at her food. Her father's home cooked meal was excessive and rich but she found she had no appetite for it, despite the angry void growing within her body.

"Oh. Eh-hem," Nora said, glancing up before studiously looking back down at her food.

"Hey, Fatma," came a deep, smooth voice from behind her. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

She turned to find Duncan to her side. His face oozed concern as he held his lunch tray. She admired him as he stood there, from his trim body, his large hands and his wide shoulders.

And the- her eyes dilated as more blood vessels burst within her sclera.

hunger so very hungry

A gray haze radiated from his body, vanishing before reappearing. Over and over. It almost appeared to be a trick of the light or a problem with her eyes as the gray light - no, white now and almost completely transparent. It faded but she found herself inhaling deeply as if tasting him. The void inside of her shifted, seemingly attaching itself to her spine so that she felt the ache throughout her entire body from between her thighs to the back of her neck. It was a numb, thrilling pain that made her wriggle in her seat as hairs stood up on the nape of her neck.

want need devour

"I wish everyone would stop asking me that," she told him, searching for the aura that had surrounded him. She wrapped her arms around her chest, subconsciously pushing her breasts out as she scratched her elbows and the backs of her arms.

A fractured sequence of images filled her mind. His zipper. Her hands on him. On his dick. Her mouth. Wet. Hardness.

The girl's eyes shrunk to vertical slits as she pressed her nails hard into the tingling skin above her elbow. Spit filled her mouth and she found herself swirling her tongue against the inside of her mouth. The angry violet coloring crept forward from the back of her tongue in striated lines, halting before spreading too far.

"I'm sorry," the boy said, fidgeting in his spot. He opened his mouth to say something before frowning and looking down at his shoes. "I- I've gotta go sit with Jason. But, if you want to talk about anything, I'm here. And the counselor is good. The school counselor. I talked with him when my mom left a couple years ago. And I- I'm sorry. I'll just be over there. If you need anything."

"Poor boy," Nora said with a sigh as Duncan left. "He has it bad for you. Why won't you go to prom with him?"

"Papa wouldn't accept it," she answered, returning to pick at her food. Her arms throbbed from the tips of her fingers to her shoulders.

"Because he's black?" her friend asked.

"No," Fatma said. "Well, I don't know. Maybe. But he's an atheist."

fool fool fool fool

"He lets you hang out with me," the other girl replied. "And I don't believe."

"Your parents do," Fatma said, finally spearing a piece of meat. "And I know you do, too. At least a little. He'd think Duncan was a fool for not believing."

"Psh," Nora snorted. "Your father loves you more than anything. He'd want you to be happy more than anything else. As long as you kept your faith, I think he'd be fine. Prom is tomorrow night! Even if you didn't start dating, you could at least just go with him. He'd be happy to dance with you whatever you're wearing."

Fatma opened her left hand, absentmindedly flicking the pile of black ash away from her table. She pushed around her food as her friend ate until a bell chimed and they got ready for their next class.

---

The noise from the bus rattled Fatma as she lay her head against the slim window next to her. She'd woken with energy but, as the day progressed, found herself growing weary.

food so many so young taste them draw from them

She closed her eyes, trying to rouse herself but the exhaustion held her down like weights. Yet, all around her the other teenagers burst with energy, rattling her nerves with their loud voices and shouts. She could almost taste the hormones flooding the bus and she found herself drawing it in. Drawing from their youthful vigor to remind herself that she was fine. That she was strong and young. Oddly enough, it seemed to work. And even better, the raucous noise quieted slightly around her.

The girl's hijab shifted as she sat up straighter. She opened her jaw, pushing it forward as pressure filled her temples. Her ears slowly tilted back in a slight angle while the ridges beneath the rounded tops flowed outward, pulling at the skin. The scarf moved around her as the sharp tips of her ears slid through her hair.

Fatma scratched at her cheek before pressing her thumb against the joint of her jaw. The pressure subsided as she massaged her face. She hummed to herself and then stretched, raising her hands above her head. The exhaustion was gone, not completely but she felt awake again.

Tiny flecks of black coloring emerged beneath the skin of her nostrils. She rubbed her nose and then pressed a finger against her mouth as similar dots appeared in the cracks of her lips. They swelled at her touch, the thin, pink skin becoming full as they bulged outward. Her short canines, rounded and dull and flush with the incisors next to them, grew to thin, sharp points. The enamel reshaped until the tips jutted beneath the surrounding teeth.

changing becoming

She smiled, lightly scratching at the sensitive side of her belly. Ever since Duncan spoke with her in the lunchroom, she'd found herself distracted. Odd touches made her jump as she felt her body become more sensitive.

Reaching back, she scratched along her spine while biting into her full lips. She couldn't stop herself from writhing with her forehead pressed against the seat in front of her as the feel of her nails sent hot pulses down her body. It was a welcome change from the lethargy she felt earlier.

Beneath her blouse, dry, dead skin flaked away. The more the scratched, the more came free until, pressing hard while hissing in pleasure, she cut deep beneath her flesh.

A ridged, black protrusion lay exposed in the small tear of her skin.

"Duncan," she whispered.

The girl was chaste; her seclusion, religion and shyness kept her from the moral corruptions that existed on the Internet and among the small group of her friends. She knew what a naked man looked like, had rough ideas of how it all worked but seldom imagined it. It had always seemed wrong. Her nightly routine was established years and years ago with her father. The Isha and Dhikr prayers at bedtime made the rare, sexually curious thought feel wrong.

Fatma shivered, digging her nails into the backs of her arms as she moaned quietly in her seat. She lay against the window again as Duncan came to mind. Again. He would be warm. Gentle and kind with her.

rough slapping choking forcing taking

Guiding her, showing her what he wanted. Pushing her hand down to his zipper until she freed his manhood. She imagined it as dark as he was. And large. Large enough to choke on.

Choke on it? She wondered as she pressed her thighs together. She felt warm between the legs and, as she tensed, the muscles of her pussy clenched and slipped, wet with her arousal. Would I kiss it? Taking it in my mouth as he forced my head down.

Her breath was hot and fast as she struggled with the image. Imagining herself not going to her knees. It felt wrong. And dirty. To put her mouth on his penis.

In her mind, he slapped her and she gasped, clawing at her right elbow while thrusting her hand between her thighs. Duncan's face was twisted with absurd need as he slapped her again. The rough treatment forced a moan from her lips as she pictured herself being forced down.

Blood suffused her tanned cheeks until they were reddened in shame, guilt and the desire for more. The blood appeared to leech into her cheeks until her very skin was tinted crimson. It spread along the bridge of her nose and down her jaw, reaching halfway down her throat.

She felt drained again, her mouth dry as she rubbed the edge of her hand between her lips. Her pants were wet and she shuddered each time the sawing motion rubbed her clit. She could feel Duncan's hand in her hair, clutching her painfully tight.

The light red coloring covering her sclera began to leak into her brown irises.

But that started to feel wrong. She frowned with her eyes closed. Her inexperience had her picturing herself kissing his cock but she suddenly saw herself digging her claws into his belly, forcing him down as she wrested control away from him.

The bus screeched to a stop, forcing Fatma out of her reverie. Her thoughts vanished in smoke, leaving her confused.

She was- she thought- She rubbed her eyes as she spread her legs. A scent wafted to her nose. Pulling her hand away, she inhaled and brought it closer. A light fog formed in her brain as she smelled the heady, sweet scent covering her hand. She blinked slowly until the bus driver called her name, pulling her back once again.

The girl grabbed her backpack in a rush as she barreled through the bus and outside. Her heart pounded as she hefted her backpack to walk down the sidewalk with her head bowed. She remembered most of the ride but-

Oh, was I really thinking of Duncan in that way? she could see him again, guiding her hand and the shame of her excitement made her clutch her backpack harder.

Electricity coursed through her body. She froze and looked up to find herself standing outside Ms. Maiben's home. Fatma licked her lips, taking a half-step towards the concrete stairs leading up to the front door. The void clinging to her spine trembled and she snarled without realizing it. She could almost hear the old woman, far in the distance at the back of her mind. Screaming in agony to match the expression she died with.

free consumed and owned ours now

Fatma's tongue slipped free from her pouty lips. It narrowed as it slid forth and the tip flicked as the purple coloring continued to spread like ink spilled in a cup of water. Swirling and racing and curling along her narrow, long tongue until not a single spot of pink remained.

She played and replayed the final moments of the woman's death and the faint, echoing screams continued. The memory of the night before, lying in bed while feeling guilty was alien to her now. She'd done what she could and the woman had deserved it. She was old. Past her time. Taking up space the younger generation needed. That she needed. The the hunger demanded. Holding her back. Restraining her. Bottling her up until she broke free to take her payment.

Anger flared within her as she struggled to understand why. She stared at the door, feeling the unnatural emptiness beyond. She'd visited the old woman many times with her father but, overlaid on that was decades of time. She couldn't shake the oddness of it, the double echo of the times she'd brought food with the strange feeling of raging restraint. The girl snarled, opening her mouth to show her small fangs as her tongue flicked out.

The soft, tanned skin of her neck burned bright red as the coloring spread to her shoulders.

Finally, the young girl continued on, lightly jumping up the steps to her own home as she hummed a tune to drown out the nearly inaudible howling.

Once past the threshold of her own home, a weak headache bloomed at the center of her brain. She ground her sharp teeth but forced herself onward. There was time for her to work on her homework before the Maghrib prayer and she needed to focus. Her teacher had sent her home with her calculus test to revise for extra credit.

---

After more than two hours of sitting in her bed, working slowly through her test, Fatma slammed her book shut with a cry of frustration. Her headache beat a nasty rhythm in her brain and she found herself distracted. Uneasy.

Her back was sore. She reached around to press her fingertips beneath the band of her pants to massage herself. It felt inflamed and sore at her touch.

Her anxiety built until she glanced at her windows. Had she missed pra-

distract resist pain pain feed need to feed

The girl grunted, pressing the palm of her hand against her temple as the void growled in her stomach. Wavy clear lines vibrated in her eyesight until she squeezed her eyes closed. Beneath her eyelids, brown vanished to leave nothing but the black slits of her pupils centered in pure, deep red.

She swung her legs over the bed, wobbling to her feet as she made her way to the bathroom. They kept bottles of headache pills in the medicine cabinet and she knew she'd need them if she were going to keep studying.

The light flicked on and she screamed as she caught her own reflection. Her lips were jet black, full and soft against a face the shade of pure blood. Sharp little fangs protruded and her tongue, a pearlescent purple, writhed behind them. She covered her mouth and her eyes widened, the vertical slits opening to full ovals.

awake

"Who's there?!" Fatma yelled, slamming herself back against the wall as the strange voice filled her head.

we are one

Blood welled at the edge of the girl's eyes, falling against her cheeks as she lowered herself. An uncomfortable pressure stabbed into her lower back and the band of her trousers bulged to contain the rounded nub of her tail.

feed we hunger

"Go away! Go away!" she screamed, pressing her palms against her ears. It was impossible to block the sound but she pulled her knees up to press her face against them with her hands firmly against her ears. "What did you do to me?!"

host we are one soon

"No, please, no," she sobbed, blood dotting her dark blouse as she cried. "I'm- I'm good. Allah-"

Pain exploded behind her eyes, cutting her off.

not his tainted blessed forever

"No," she whimpered.

The girl's mind swam as she felt the wall moving against her back. It knew she sat stationary on the ground but the sensation confused it until tiny, invisible hooks dug deeper into her soul. It knew, then, that she still sat and it was simply her tail moving against the wall. Growing.

Fatma gasped, reaching back to grab it. It was slick, slimy and thick in her hand and she yelped before releasing it. It felt warm and strong. Worse, the tip was sliding against her bare back. Bumping against-

She stood, sniffling as she turned and raised her shirt. Her short tail pulled free. The tip bulged at the sides like a club but she focused on her back. On the tears in her skin over her spine. On the black ridges that those gouges exposed.

"La hawla wala quwwata -" she spoke out loud, the pain in her head increasing with each word until she couldn't bear it. She collapsed to her knees, her hands tearing at her hijab as she bent forward with her short tail flailing behind her.

anger rage

She screamed, flinging the scarf as anger filled her. She hadn't asked for this. It had started when her father sent her to Ms. Maiben's house. The doubt and guilt filling her. Everything was fine until then. She hadn't wanted to go.

An image of the bottle was forced into her mind's eye.

Nora! she snarled in rage. That bitch did this to me! Cursed me! And that old hag! Kept the- the fucking thing trapped! The flame in the bottle. The demon! I can't live like this! I can't be seen like this!

hide conceal yourself

"How?! How, damn you?!" she yelled, panting on her hands and knees. She could feel the muscles and skin moving on her lower back as the tail pulled at her.

feed

Another image. Her father. Asleep with her standing over him.

Dark pink filled her red cheeks.

"No," she whispered. "No, I won't."

Another image, her hiding as a mob chased her. As her father cursed her name. But, suddenly, it shifted. Her father, telling her to go to Ms. Maiben's house. His face was knowing. Smirking. Sending her to her doom.

"It wasn't-" she struggled. "It wasn't like that."

feed

She clutched at her stomach, snarling. Her fangs lengthened. She was hungry. Weak. She could feel it now, the difference of it.

Keys jingled in the doorway of the living room. Fatma's red eyes widened.

"Papa!" she gasped. In a blur of speed, she leapt for her scarf, snatching it from the ground before running to her room and closing the door.

"Fatma?" Faizan called out. "Are you home?"

She turned, her back to the door until she felt her tail sliding against the cool sheets. The girl panicked, grabbing it and pulling it between her thighs. It resisted but she clamped her legs together, trapping it. As short as it was, the tip lay against her sex. She held it with one arm while starting at the wall next to her bed.

"Fatma?" her father asked gently, knocking on her door. "Will you join me for evening prayer?"

lust desire sin

Her tail calmed and she breathed a sigh of relief until the head began rocking slightly back and forth. She gasped, biting her lips painfully as the thick head pressed into her clit and between her lips.

"Daughter?"

"Nooo," Fatma moaned. Duncan, on his back. Waiting for her command. His cock huge and erect. Blood pounded between her thighs and her ass moved. She clawed the bed with her free hand as her hips rocked back and forth in time to the movement of her tail.

Her slick, pink pussy lips darkened as they became engorged. Her wrist pushed at her restrained tail, guiding it to press where it felt best.

"Are you still- does her-" her father said, uncertain of what to ask. "I'll prepare some food for you before I go to bed. I love you, Fatma."

"Yessss," the girl groaned, biting at her blanket.

lust pleasure lust pleasure lustlustlustlust

She clawed at her pants as her suddenly freed tail arched back. She unzipped herself before shoving her pants down to expose her throbbing, aching sex. Muscle flexed in her back as the dark hooks sunk deeper. She turned, laying on her stomach while she brought her tail between her legs. It obeyed her command as she found the fine motor control needed to move it properly.

Fatma could feel the burning heat from her pussy against the smooth skin of her tail. It slipped between her wet lips and she buried her face into her pillow to hide her moans. Her long ears vibrated as strong muscles forced the tail to grind against her.

profane fuck inhibitions

In her eyes, she lay astride Duncan, his cock pinned against her body as she slid against his thickness.

Yet it wasn't enough. Not fully grown, her tail couldn't flex enough to enter her. She reached back, grabbing the slick head. Without hesitation, she shoved it inside, screaming as she took her own virginity.

Grunting, groaning and growling, she worked the bulbous tip in and out of her tight pussy, feeling the growing pressure build.

Smoke issued from her black nose. She turned her face to breathe and her lust-filled mouth opened wide to expose her tongue. It lengthened further, the tip growing to a sharp point as rough bumps formed along the top.

Fatma bit into her pillow, shaking her head like a predator taking down its prey as her first orgasm exploded through her body. She kicked her aching feet while lifting her hips and screaming through clenching teeth.

more joined more need more lust unfulfilled tainted more tainted

we need more

"Yessss!" Fatma gasped in agreement. She released her hand as her tail grew longer and it plunged deep inside of her as she raised herself to her hands and knees with her head bowed, lost in the depths of her own pleasure.

---

Silence filled the house.

feed

Fatma shook her head against the voice. She lay exhausted, her bed sheets soaked with her juices. Burn marks dotted the sheets beneath her.

conceal feed hunger

"I- I can't," she gasped. The pain of the void was nearly intolerable. Her feet ached and her forehead throbbed while her joints flared in agony.

must

anger lies

The demon wanted her to feed from her father but the thought sickened her. She sickened herself, laying in the remains of her sin. Brought low by lust and using her own profane body to do it.

A spark of anger ignited.

A body she wouldn't have if she hadn't gone to visit the old whore. The door had been open.

The spark fanned into flames.

Her father sent her on purpose!

She growled, pushing herself up. She was bare from the waist down but the cool night air didn't touch her. Her crotch and legs were covered with her own dried juices but he pussy was still wet. Ready. Aching. Hungry.

He knew, she told herself. And he'd sent me in his stead. Abandoning his charity because he knew what would happen. Instead, he sent me as sacrifice. The pain is his fault!

Fatma sat up. Her tail lashed angrily behind her, thumping against the bed. The movement split the skin just above the base of her tail. A single drop of blood coursed down her ass as a shiny black lump began to harden in the cool air.

The girl walked through her room, her long, wine-reddened tail hung low behind her. The mace-like tip waved as her hips rocked. She opened her door, listened for her father's snores and stepped into the hallway. His door was ajar.

She snarled at the sight of him, sleeping peacefully. His dark black beard and short black hair framed against his olive skin. From his doorway, she could see him outlined in pure white. The light hovered from his body.

pure unlike us his fault

The voice filled her and the flames of anger roared. Smoke rose from around her feet. Her fangs grinded together as the red bridge of her nose wrinkled in distaste. She would never be clean again. Not after what happened to her. Not after what he did to her.

With a step, she crossed into his bedroom and her head throbbed in pain. The faint silhouette of a footprint was burned into the floor where she'd stood. She took another step, leaving yet another ghost of a footprint until she was by his bedside. The second footprint showed two large fused toes as her big toe merged with the thin toe next to it and the three beside it joined together.

Her head pounded until she felt nauseous.

feed

The voice was powerful and commanding but, as she raised her hand, she hesitated. Her father turned fitfully, his brow crinkling as his dreams took a sudden, dark turn.

feed conceal

Her outthrust hand shook as the light began to pull towards her. It touched her fingertips and she gasped, eyes wide. Her earlier masturbation paled in comparison as she began to consume her father's soul. It filled every pore, lighting every nerve ending as she was forced to the tips of her toes.

The bottom of Fatma's shirt slid against her smooth, flat stomach. It pulled up as her slim breasts began to fill out. They swelled, pushing against the blouse until gravity pulled them down. She could feel the smooth skin sliding against her chest. Red descended from her shoulders, the taint of her body flowing to cover her still-growing tits.

She groaned as liquid welled between her pussy lips. It fell, attaching to her thigh in a clear string as more began to form. Smoke wafted from her body as the crimson coloring reached her hips. She moaned, her violet tongue flicking out as her ass began to expand, the skin over her waist stretching.

Her father gasped, arching his back as he scrabbled at the air above him.

Fatma stumbled backwards, panting. Crackling gray light surrounded him now. The voice within was silent. Sated. She swallowed and turned, leaning against the doorframe before going to her own room.

As she reached her door, thick lumps formed over her shoulder blades. They itched with an insane intensity but the girl ignored them as she slammed her door shut and collapsed into her bed. Her fused toes began to harden into hooves as she dug them into the bedding.

She burned from within. Her fingernails darkened as keratin formed and grew from the tips of her fingers until her dense, curved claws tore into her bed. Every touch of the sheets drove her wild. Her tail wrapped around her thick thigh but she grabbed at it, pulling it until it came free.

"Fuck me!" she cursed, shoving the bulbous head into her waiting, dripping cunt. "Fuck!"

She pushed her hips upward by digging her heels into the bed. Her huge breasts pulled down toward her face as she screamed out in pleasure. With a swipe of her claws, she tore her shirt open to expose her breasts. She squeezed one of them, pulling it closer as her tongue wrapped around her fat, erect nipple. Her areola darkened over her bright red skin until it was a dusty black that began to leech into the nipple itself.

Skin ripped over her shoulder blades and along her brow. She hissed and then screeched as her tail plunged deeper than ever. Hardened bone stood out from two points on her skull but she rolled as wet, dark flesh pushed out from the large slits along her back.

Turned to the side, her tail still pumping furiously into her hungry, needy sex, her new wings spread weakly with a single flap.

---

"Tch," Faizan said as he sat at the breakfast table.

Fatma glanced at him while she ate her food. Gray hairs mixed with the black of his beard and along his temples and deep wrinkles lay against his eyes.

The girl's clothes clung to her. Late in the night, she'd found how to change her form but she'd decided to keep her hips and breasts how they were. It wasn't exactly shape shifting, she'd found.

To her, she felt her wings pressed against her back with her tail laying quietly behind her. That was one reality and the one she felt. But in this reality, she appeared how she wanted. As Fatma to all who saw her and to everything that existed in the world. Her clothes only knew that she was larger now. Her midriff showed beneath her blouse and her nipples pressed against the blouse. She wore no bra.

"Problems, papa?" she asked. Beneath it all, she seethed with anger that wouldn't go away.

"I'm sore this morning," he said, rubbing his knuckles.

You deserve it, she thought at him. This and more.

"I hope it passes," she lied, pushing back from the table. "I'm full."

Her father looked at her and his eyes narrowed in concern.

"Fatma," he said, squeezing his hands together. He noted her shirt and his jaw muscles flared. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she lied again. Her lips trembled as she forced back a snarl. His soul still coursed through her but she could already feel it fading and the energy it provided dissipating. She studied him for a moment, licking her lips quickly as she wondered how many more times she could feed from him. Not many. Maybe two. His fault. "I have to go."

He stood, reaching for a hug and a forehead kiss. She moaned as the shredded soul within her touched the remnants he held. Grabbing his head, she opened her mouth and her purple tongue licked his cheek. She closed her mouth over his. He froze until she stepped back, wiping her lips with a smile.

The man's eyes were glazed. He fell to the floor, his back against the wall. Fatma sighed happily as the bit she'd taken from him spread through her body. Her nipples pressed against her blouse as she grabbed her backpack to walk to her stop.

---

Classes were dull. She found herself ignoring the lesson while focusing inward.

The voice no longer spoke to her. That had frightened her at first. And moreso when she realized why: it was her now. Its knowledge lay at the edges of her mind, waiting for her to touch and remember them. She'd learned how to control her form from that wide pool of knowledge.

And so much more.

A thrill tickled her side. She turned to find James staring at her. Staring at her breasts and the bumps her nipples made. She smiled at him while casually caressing herself. His lust flowed to her. It was small but enough and she arched her back as it pooled between her thighs.

The bell chimed and students grabbed their books to rush to their next period. Fatma left hers and, instead, turned to her friend behind her.

"Nora, I need help," she said with the most pleading expression she could conjure. "Will you come to the bathroom with me?"

"Of course," the girl said. "Let me just grab-"

"No," Fatma said, caressing the girl's jaw. "No."

"O-okay," Nora said, blinking away the haze that had filled her. She followed her friend as they walked out of the bathroom, through the busy hallway and towards the bathroom.

Fatma fed from the students as she walked. Jealousy from female students, lust from most of the male students and some of the females until she was nearly full from it.

Jennifer stood alone in the bathroom as the two girls entered. Fatma touched her.

"Leave," she said.

The blonde girl dropped her makeup kit and left, leaving her purse and backpack behind. After the door closed, The hooded girl pressed her palm against it, sealing in a flash of red light.

"What's wrong?" Nora asked, rubbing her arms in the middle of the bathroom.

"I didn't sleep last night," Fatma said. "I couldn't. I was learning. And thinking."

"You've killed me, Nora," she continued. Her friend's eyes widened in alarm. "And cursed me. I'm damned for eternity. And I've seen it. I've seen what the abyss looks like. The multitudes of it. A great clash of realities. A Christian demon rides my soul. We are one now. Because of you."

"The bottle," she said as she began unwrapping her hijab from her head. Nora backed away at Fatma's approach. "Itold you to leave it alone. I told you. It's too late. It's too late now. I'm-"

Smoke escaped Fatma's lips. She flickered between human and demon before resting on her larger demon form. Hard muscle in her thighs flexed her bent knees and her cloven hooves clacked loudly on the linoleum. Her hardened abs tensed as her heavy, rounded breasts shook from the impact.

"I'm still learning," she moaned. "Where was- Ah. I'm not sure I'd change it, to be honest. But, Nora, I can't just let it go. There has to be a punishment."

"P-p-p-please," Nora moaned, the whites showing in her eyes. "I- I- I-"

Fatma's violet tongue flickered, tasting the girl's panic. Savoring it. She balled up her hijab in her hands, bringing it over the girl's head. She crossed her arms and Nora grabbed at the scarf. Muscles bulged beneath dark red skin as the scarf tightened.

"Kek-" the panicked girl said, grabbing and pulling at the fabric.

Fatma leaned in, her mouth opening over her friend's lips. She forced the other girl's lips apart and her tongue wrapped around her friend's tongue. Smoke rose around both of them as Nora screamed.

The other girl's struggles lessened as a flame flickered fitfully to life over her brow. She wrapped her arms around Fatma's neck, leaning into her until Fatma pushed her gently back. A line of spit connected them briefly.

Flame-red hairs sprouted around Nora's belly button. She groaned, rolling her head with a huff.

"I need you awake for this part," Fatma said, touching the girl's forehead. "I need you to feel this happening."

Nora blinked as awareness took hold.

"F- Fatma?" the girl said. "What's- Augh!"

She collapsed to her knees on the bathroom floor.

"I thought of draining you completely," Fatma told her. "Or just killing you. I don't mind it now. I see Ms. Maiben's face and I laugh. Old and weak and stupid. Bottling me. Caging me. I still hear her screams and I laugh."

Flame jetted from Nora's mouth. The girl roared, clawing at her neck as thick veins stood out against her skin. Sweat sizzled from her body as she tore at her shirt.

Fatma changed once more to her demon form. Her huge wings spread as she sat back against one of the sinks. The girl's thick claws toyed with her clit slowly while she enjoyed the show.

"I decided, mmmm," the demoness moaned as her claw entered her sex. "I would keep you as a pet instead."

Nora pulled, tearing her shirt from the collar down. Black and red fur grew in a line down her stomach. With a grunt, the girl snapped her bra one-handed. Already the skin over her bicep was tight and hard from thick muscle. Her breasts shook as her hands roamed her body.

"What are youuuu doing to meee?!" Nora groaned. Her ears began to travel along her head, flowing along with the skin as her black hair fell around her. The ears lengthened as they rose and thickened, flattening against her skull.

A loud crack filled the air, forcing Nora to her hands and knees. She arched her back as her spine pressed against her skin in a wave. Her torso stretched as thick red hairs sprouted from her skin. She growled, shoving her face forward as her jaw broke.

Teeth clattered to the floor to make space for her canines. They thickened as her jaw pushed forward.

"H-h-hurts," Nora gasped.

"I know," Fatma replied as her fingers quickened their pace between her thighs.

The changing girl fell to her side with a grunt before rolling and pushing her hips up in a bridge. Her breasts pulled to her face, the skin stretching as red fur began to emerge to cover them. Flame shot from the girl's mouth and the smell of sulphur filled the room.

Small dark spots appeared appeared in two lines down the girl's stomach. Ducts and tissue formed as her teats grew erect.

"S-s-stop! Please!" Nora begged.

No answer came for her as her pants strained to contain her bulk. Her shoes bulged and then exploded, separating from the soles to show swollen toes. She pawed at the ground and her toenails came free. Beneath the nails, the flesh hardened into sheaths. Still her feet widened and lengthened as fur began to spread over them.

The screams stopped when her heat took root. The seams of her pants split to reveal hard lines of muscle. She clawed at her crotch.

"Stooop," Nora groaned as she clawed at herself. Her tongue lolled from between huge, sabertooth-like fangs. "I- I don't want this."

"Yes," Fatma moaned, her head back. "You do. And you always will, Nora. Always. Until I allow you to die."

The changing girl roared as her jeans erupted into flames. Her thick hand plunged between her furred thighs. She pressed the leathery pads beneath her fingers into her clit as her other hand squeezed her breast.

The tip of her naked tail emerged over her swelling, straining ass. Bones broke and re-formed in her hips to accommodate the growth and her still-lengthening body. Her tail grow wolf-like, thick and bushy with red and black fur. Tiles blackened beneath the girl as she roared sulfurish flame, her legs kicking and taking out a chunk of the wall as a powerful orgasm rocked her body.

Nora's pink labia, hidden behind thick black fur, turned bright red. The lips pressed together before folding and bulging away from her body. She grunted, muscles straining as she ached for another release. The bones beneath her mound clicked and moved and her pussy raised while her clit slid forward to press against the labia.

Fatma came as Nora's transformation completed. She groaned, raising her claws to her full lips to suckle at them. When her pet raised herself to two feet, the demoness frowned. The other girl towered over her, a jet of blue flame pulsing with each exhalation. Her sheathed, cat claws were a strange counterpoint to her wolf's body. The girl's tail whipped behind her and the tip ignited into black flame that filled the room with a powerful stench that made Fatma moan.

"Down," she commanded and her friend whimpered, lowering herself to hands and feet. The hellhound shoved her ass back against the edge of the wall behind her while rocking her hips.

"Can't. Get. Enough," Nora rumbled.

"You'll stay down until I order otherwise," Fatma said. "If you please me."

"Yessss," the hellhound said, licking her wide muzzle. "I- I can please you, Fatma."

"Now, come with me."

---

Fatma walked ahead of Nora. The other girl fingered the thick black studded collar at her neck before her hand strayed to her crotch.

"P- please," Nora begged. "C-can it- can it stop- when I- I'm human?"

"You're not human," Fatma told her. "You just look it. And, no. It never will. Be thankful for that."

"Yes!" Nora cried out before grabbing her own breast. A large wet patch spread from the girl's crotch. "Yes, I'm thankful! Yes!"

Cars parked around them as they made their way to the school's gym. People followed, glancing at the pair before heading into the school.

"Nora!" a young boy called. "Nora, hey! I've been looking for you!"

"Oh god, no," Nora moaned. "Please, no, no, no."

"Take him," Fatma commanded.

The girl dropped to her hands and feet with a growl and then stood to run on two feet. She tackled the boy, dragging him away from the crowd. Fatma followed.

He was unconscious as Nora licked his face. She kissed him while her fingers pulled at his jeans to expose his cock. The girl groaned and quickly slipped out of her own pants.

"Take him, whore," Fatma said.

"Yes! Yes mistress!" Nora yelled, shoving her sopping wet pussy against the boy's cock. He groaned, clawing at the ground as he grew hard. She didn't wait for him. As soon as he was hard enough, she grabbed him to shove him inside her folded cunt. She frantically bounced on his dick while kissing him, leaning back to growl and pull her shirt off.

Red hairs sprouted from the boy's chest. He coughed and sputtered as a flame erupted from his mouth.

"Join me when you're finished," Fatma said, releasing the girl's true form.

The demoness walked to the entrance of the gym. She spied Duncan standing by the doors and he smiled when he saw her.

"Fatma!" he called out, waving. White shined along his body and she felt a brief stab of pain until she focused on her own power. He walked over to her and she smiled at him.

"Follow me," she purred.

Emotions fled the boy's face until it was a mask. He followed behind her, closing the gym doors as she entered.

Music blared from loudspeakers as seniors danced on the floor. Teachers and parents stood at the sides, talking while watching the kids.

Fatma drank it in until her body roared with power. The lust. The hormones. Everything.

It didn't take much. A push. An exertion of power.

A bearded father slammed his drink before letting the cup fall. He walked into the crowd to shove a boy away from the class president - brunette with long, curly hair. He grabbed the girl's skirt, pulling it free while shoving her to the ground. She screamed until Fatma's power hit her and then she taunted him, raising her bare ass while spreading her pink pussy open for him with two fingers. The father slapped her ass and guided himself into her.

Another boy slammed his date against the wall as she struggled with him. He lifted her dress to shove his fingers inside of her and she rolled her head back with a moan of encouragement.

An Asian girl grabbed a boy's partner and the two girls began to kiss while shedding their clothes.

The wife of the bearded father grabbed at a man next to her. She unzipped him, pulling his cock free before shoving her mouth down on his dick, bobbing up and down while the man's wife kneeled behind the woman, pulling her pants down to suck on her pussy.

The room devolved into an orgy that fed Fatma. She turned to Duncan and he opened his lips to her kiss as her form changed. She wrapped her wings around him.

"No slave to me, Duncan," she purred as she burned his clothes free. "But my mate. I know the spell of summoning and you'll make a beautiful host. Not these lessers. Not these thralls."

A bulge appeared on the bearded father's ass as he skin darkened to red. Beside him, a young black girl screamed for god to save her as horns pierced the skin over her skull. She tore her dress to show huge breasts and her scream turned to a snarl as she shoved herself against a frantic boy next to her.

Two beasts entered the gym, a male on two legs with a female on hands and feet next to him. They scented the scene before them before the female offered herself to the male with a shuddering groan.

"Join me," Fatma whispered to Duncan as a flame took shape over the young man's forehead.
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Unread 04-09-2021   #27
oezdemircan aydinoglu
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Holy shit. Your characterization of Fatma is very well researched! "La hawla wala quwwata (illa billahil aliyil ezim)" is an actual İslamic expression. Well done!
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Unread 04-09-2021   #28
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Thank you! I try to do research on topics when I can and especially here. I wanted to treat her religion with respect when writing it. I really enjoyed doing a conflict between the ideologies in regards to the corruption and demonization.
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Unread 05-01-2021   #29
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Passing Through [Werewolf]
------------------------------------
Warning: painful transformation, death, violence, and gore.

Were-World's Sue makes a stop in a sleepy town the morning after a full moon.

I wrote a fan fiction piece for Were-World ( https://www.deviantart.com/were-world/gallery?catpath=/ ) based on their "Sue" stories. All ... copyrights? for the character are theirs.

You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham
-------------------------------------------------
The wide arc of the sun crowned against the horizon, casting pure golden light throughout the valley. The gray sky strained to contain the perfect blue yearning to break out. Birds chirped and fluttered, zipping from building to building while watching for crumbs and worms.

Light buzzed and hummed and swarmed within the neon sign for Ray's Diner. Trucks, old and new mixed together, parked haphazardly in the lot. The white lines marking parking spots had faded years ago but the regulars had claimed their spots before then and now they parked by rote.

Gravel crunched as a small four door sedan slowed on the road in front of the diner. Its turn signal winked and the car turned, easing into the lot to weave between the trucks.

Abigail glanced outside as she stood with a pot of coffee in her hand. She frowned at the car when it slid between two old Chevys. Nobody in their small town owned a car like that and Ray's, sitting just at the outskirts of town and off the main road, rarely saw visitors. Especially not when The Grill House was more well known and used by the few people passing through.

"Thanks, Abi," Grady said, tapping the front of his hat while lifting his coffee cup.

"Oh, yeah, sure, hun," Abigail said, shaking herself. "I'll have your eggs out in a minute."

"Aww, I'm not in a hurry. You know that," the grizzled old man said. "You going to be at Mass tonight? You know Trudy's not as good on the organ and she tries to sing along with the choir. She's even worse at that."

Abigail batted the man on the shoulder with an admonishing tsk.

"Grady Hearns, you know that's not nice," Abigail told him. She pulled at her white apron before touching the hairpin holding up her coiled blonde hair. Despite what she said, she felt a small sense of superiority at his words. She was better at the organ and she had the sense to leave the singing to others.

The bell hanging over the door jingled while the door itself screeched on its hinges.

A young woman entered dressed in torn blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a green flannel shirt hanging open. She paused at the entrance while glancing around before turning and finding an open table in the corner.

"Huh," Grady said, craning to see the new customer. "A foreigner, huh?"

"Better swallow what you're about to say, Grady," Abigail warned when the old man opened his mouth to continue. "I'm sure whatever it is, it ain't very Christlike."

Instead of answering, he turned back and sipped his coffee. Abigail looked towards the shelf on the kitchen window but it was empty so she walked towards the waiting woman.

How old is she? Abigail wondered as she drew close. She looked even younger than she had when she'd first entered but she wondered if that was due to her only having seen Asians on television and never in person. Oh Lord, our menus don't have pictures.

"Welcome to Ray's," Abigail said while smiling as brightly as she could. She reached for one of the menus set against the wall but the woman grabbed it first. "What can I get for ya?"

"Can I get about six eggs, ten slices of bacon and four pieces of buttered toast, please," The girl said in perfect English.

Abigail's smile faltered. She glanced towards the parking lot and the small car nestled between the trucks, expecting to see someone within or on their way inside but there was nobody else.

"Maybe fifteen pieces of bacon," the girl muttered. "Yeah, fifteen."

"Alright," Abigail said.

The newcomer was gaunt and pale with dark lines under her slim eyes. And now, standing this close to her, Abigail could smell a deep earthy scent. Of dirt and sap and something else entirely.

"Can I get a name for the order?" Abigail asked.

"Oh, I'm Sue," the woman said while placing the menu back against the wall. "And a cup of coffee, please."

"Sure thing, I'll be right back with a new pot," Abigail told her.

Only when she walked away and conversations resumed around her did she realize that everyone had stopped to listen in. Abigail rolled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen window to grab the waiting plate and to drop off the new order.

"She speak English?" Grady asked when his food was set before him.

"Better than you," Abigail answered.

The waitress spun and grabbed a fresh pot of coffee to bring to the waiting girl. Once there, she turned over a clean white cup on a tray by the window to fill it.

"Here you go, hun," Abigail said, reaching out the hand that held the cup.

Faint traces of dirt and blood and viscera were caked beneath Sue's fingers. She'd cleaned up in a nearby creek after waking up inside her tent while making a note to wash more thoroughly when she found a bathroom. Once she'd spotted the diner, a fierce hunger had taken hold and the thought slipped her mind.

A wide, curved obsidian claw peeked out from beneath the nail growing out from the cuticle on her right index finger. The claw receded slowly, dissolving back into the tip of her finger but not fast enough. It bit into the side of Abigail's palm, slicing her deep enough to cause blood to flow immediately, coursing down her wrist to drizzle down onto the table.

Abigail gasped. She dropped the coffee cup and it shattered, splashing hot coffee over her and against Sue's arm. Sue growled, snatching her arm back while sliding closer to the wall. She quickly grabbed paper napkins to sop up the coffee

"Are you okay?" Sue asked, staring up at the waitress. She inhaled and her lips trembled briefly while drool pooled in her mouth. "What happened?"

"I- I don't know!" Abigail said. She clenched her hand against her apron and her blood immediately soaked into it. "That really hurt!"

"You okay, Abi?" the owner, Ray, asked from behind the counter. "What'd that girl do to you?"

"She didn't do nothin', Ray," Abigail said firmly, turning to stare him down until his glower faded. "Don't you go blaming people when you don't know what's happening. I just cut myself on one of your old, broken cups. That's all."

"Well, I'll go get the first aid kit," he grumbled. "Don't you go bleedin' all over my diner, girl."

"I'm so sorry," Abigail said. "I'll get you a new cup and- and I'm sure you won't have to pay for your food. Is your arm okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sue told her. She licked her lips with her brow creased, swallowing and inhaling before shaking her head. "Don't worry about me. I'm more worried about you. That looks like a lot of blood."

Ray returned and walked around the counter to grab the coffee-soaked napkins on Sue's table. "Come on, girl, let's get you cleaned up."

Abigail followed the owner to the bathroom in the back. She hesitated when he opened the little kit. The idea of looking at her hand to see how bad the damage was terrified her.

"Come on, then," Ray said, nodding at her. "If it's too bad, I'll drive you over to the clinic to get it stitched."

With a trembling right hand, Abigail unwrapped the apron covering her left hand. It was heavy and sticky and blood dripped freely when she accidentally squeezed it. Her clenched fist refused to open at first. She stared at it, willing the fingers to pull apart and, finally, they did. More blood ran down her palm before falling to the floor.

"Oh, Lord," Abigail moaned. She looked away when Ray took her hand gently.

"I'll try to clean around it but it'll probably sting like hell," he told her. "Looks like it's already stopped bleedin', at least, so that's good."

Abigail peeked from the corner of her eyes when the alcohol wipe rubbed against her palm. The white fabric darkened to pink immediately but he continued to clean until it was smearing blood. He tore open another packet to finish cleaning the skin around the wound.

"Alright, let's see," Ray muttered, reaching his fingers up to the dark, four inch long strip on the side of the woman's hand.

"No, wait-" Abigail said, pulling her hand away but he held her tight while gently prodding at the wound.

"Well, what the hell, girl?" Ray said. He ran his thumb against her skin from the base of the cut to the tip. A half-formed scab flaked away to reveal smooth skin beneath. "Don't never give blood because it looks like you'll bleed out from a pinprick. Got me all worried over nothing."

"But, I-" the words died in her mouth as she touched her hand and turned it back and forth in front of her. Her apron was drenched in blood and she'd felt the jagged edge of the cup tearing into her. Opening her up. A hot, quick pain that made her skin crawl.

"Go on. Use one of the old aprons hanging in the back. That girl's food's probably gettin' cold. We won't charge her for it or if she asks for anything else. As long as it's reasonable. She's small enough that she can't eat us out of business anyways."

Abigail continued to stare at her hand while shuffling towards the little closet they used as a break room. She opened and closed her fist, certain that the skin would part to show the gnarly wound she'd received but there was nothing and she felt fine aside from being slightly lightheaded. After bundling up her own apron, she placed it in her small cubbyhole and donned the new one.

"I just don't understand," she whispered with a last look at the side of her hand.

The large order of bacon, eggs, and toast was placed out on the window's shelf seconds after Abigail walked out of the break room. She took it, ignored the worried stares of everyone around her and brought the waiting girl her food, careful to balance the overloaded plate in her right hand with her left gingerly touching the bottom.

"Thanks, I'm ravenous," Sue said, immediately grabbing a slice of bacon to shove into her mouth.

"Sorry again and don't worry about paying anything. It's on us," Abigail told her but the girl was oblivious as she tore into her food.

Everyone asked what happened as she brought refills but she played off the incident as her overreacting and they eventually accepted it for what it was. She didn't even realize the strange girl had left until she saw the car backing up and pulling away.

The rest of her shift continued as it always did, with the same faces ordering the same food and nearly the same daily, tired conversations replaying on a loop. She let it sink to the back of her mind as she worked, refilling drinks, taking orders, and bussing tables until Tracy came in to help with the initial lunch time crowd. When that died down, Abigail clocked out. She gathered her things but nearly forgot her rolled up apron until she smelled the sharp, strong scent of blood emanating from her cubby. She wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth before grabbing the stiffened material. The dried blood cracked in her grip and she breathed deeply of it while holding it against her body.

Walking out to her car, Abigail felt sore. Her joints throbbed, dull with a pulsing ache that radiated throughout her body and left her feeling tired and weak. The girl yawned, hiding her cracking jaw behind her hand while sliding into the seat of her old Ford Escort. It whined as she put it into reverse and something in the engine screeched, putting her on edge until it settled and she shifted forward onto the road to make her way home.

Abigail's bed called to her. She shivered with her arms wrapped around her sides as she made her way into her apartment and then deeper into her bedroom. The girl collapsed onto her bed without changing out of her clothes and she groaned as she nuzzled her face beneath the pillow. Sleep came quickly and mercifully.

Hours later an alarm chirped loudly and happily, bringing Abigail out of her restless sleep. She moaned, reaching for her phone on her nightstand but her nails scraped against bare wood. The alarm continued to ring and she sat up, swaying slightly left to right before pushing up to stand. Despite the way the phone echoed and knowing she hadn't felt it earlier, she still stared at the nightstand. It somehow sounded loud enough to be right there next to her but it wasn't and so she wandered through her apartment, tracking the sound to her purse where it slumped against the wall by the front door. She silenced the phone and sighed, staring at the time.

It was her weekly alarm to start getting ready for evening Mass.

She still felt tired but was buoyed by a strange energy that refused to let her relax or rest. After hanging her purse on a hook by the wall, she made her way into the bedroom to undress, slipping out of her work clothes and underwear. Every movement made her aware of her body. Her joints no longer ached as they had earlier but, instead, were inflamed and they pushed against the surrounding bones and flesh. Even more strange, her body weighed heavily against her in a subtle way and the touch of her clean bra and panties against her body was uncomfortable.

"Augh," Abigail groaned, swaying while clenching her stockings.

Her equilibrium shifted, leaving her off balance until she reached out to steady herself.

Blonde hairs pierced the side of her hand, coiling as they lengthened over the healed wound from earlier.

The sensation passed and she breathed deeply several times until she trusted herself to continue getting dressed. She sat to slide her toes into the rolled up stockings, unwinding them while pulling the sheer material over her bare thighs. Her black dress followed with her zipping the side.

Abigail tugged at the pleating until the dress was settled against her body. It hung uncomfortably, pinching beneath her armpits and waist and stomach. She ran her hand down her belly and tugged at it again, growling lightly before giving up. It was still ill-fitting but she ignored it while walking to the back of her bedroom to sit at her vanity.

The girl touched the simple cross she wore on a chain around her neck while staring at her face. A disconnected sensation caused her to gasp. For a brief moment, she felt as if she were floating over her own shoulder. It passed but left her distressed and awkward in her own body. She was certain that little things were off in her face. Little tiny details that she couldn't place.

"Get a hold of yourself, Abi," she told her reflection.

Threads of gold appeared in her iris, blue fading to icy white before brightening to yellow that glowed in the lights surrounding the mirror. The thin black limbal ring around her eyes grew thick, widening as it pushed out. She scratched at the side of her hand before focusing on her hair and makeup.

At the very end, Abigail leaned forward with her tube of lipstick in hand, dragging it over her lips. The crimson coloring drew her eyes, reminding her of the blood covering her apron. The blood she could still smell. Her top lip flexed, raising to flash her teeth until she forced her mouth closed. Hackles rose on the nape of her neck.

"Crap," she grumbled, glancing at her phone on the table in front of her. She finished, touched her hair in several places and stood, rushing to the front to slip into her shoes and grab her purse.

Abigail writhed as she drove to church. She grinded her back into the old car seat while rolling her shoulders and scratching at her neck and side and shoulders. The girl reached out to turn on the air conditioning when she began to feel uncomfortably warm but it did little to help. She felt flushed all the way to the tips of her ears and the loose strands of her bound hair teased the peach fuzz on the back of her neck whenever they moved against her.

"I'm late, dangit," she muttered as she pulled into the parking lot. It was nearly full already with only a few people milling about the entrance. She parked quickly and left her purse on the floorboards of the passenger seat while hurrying out of the car.

Dusk settled over the town, orange and gray streaks through a dark blue sky. She smiled at Nora Wilson and her husband until she caught sight of the moon at the corner of her vision. Her smile grew slack and her mouth fell open. Abigail moaned quietly while her eyes widened. The strands of yellow spread, tearing through the blue until the pure silver light reflected off of her golden eyes.

Abigail shivered and moaned again while tearing her eyes away from the moon. Two drops of sweat fell down her back but she forced herself onward, slipping into the side entrance of the old, weathered church.

"Abi, good to see you," Father John told her with a warm smile. The beard he was trying to grow finally looked like more than rough stubble. He scratched it briefly and then waved the girl in. "I'll be starting in a few minutes so go ahead and get ready. I'll wait for you."

She nodded rather than answering, licking her lips and scratching at her hand as she crept slowly through the door leading into the nave of the church. Heads turned to watch her when she appeared. She swallowed as her lips trembled and she found herself gnashing her teeth. They ached at the roots but grinding them together helped slightly as she sat before the organ.

Her heart was pounding and more sweat broke out over her body. She could hear every rustling and coughing and throat clearing and pages turning and phones vibrating and more. It set her on edge, distracting her while the varied smells of the church and its occupants slowly wafted over to her. She inhaled, gagged and began to breathe shallowly.

The door on the other side of the church creaked open. She bared her teeth in a silent snarl at the sudden movement but calmed when she saw Father John giving her the signal to start. The organ wheezed to life under her touch. Her ears trembled as the old pipes rumbled and the music swelled, painfully loud. The sound vibrated in her bones until she thought she'd go mad from it but she continued to play.

Abigail's fingers slipped on the keys. Her joints popped while the bones cracked and the skin surrounding them pulled tight. Her fingers strained forward, twitching as they flexed and stretched while muscles vibrated beneath the flesh, strands doubling and tripling.

"Whaah-" Abigail gasped, staring at her hands. The twitching fingers moved like chittering spiders creeping through a web-filled tunnel, pulling back before shoving forward and being forced at odd angles. Cramps seized her hands when she tried to move her fingers.

The girl's incisor flung out from her mouth in an arc until it clattered against the keys, blood and drool splattering against the white and black keys and the stops behind them. The metallic tang of blood filled the back of her throat, forcing her to cough. More teeth shot forth, cracking against the organ. She swallowed while pressing her hands against her mouth with her eyes wide in panic. Voices whispered behind her at the strange pause until she kicked back, standing and shoving the bench hard enough that it slammed against the floor behind her.

With her hands against her face, she could hear and feel the bones scraping and creaking and cracking beneath the skin.

"Whuuhhh-" she moaned, shoving her hands away to stare at them in horror. Her thumbs were shortened against her extended palms while the other four fingers popped and flexed. Calluses were forming along the top of her palm and the bottom of her fingers. She stared as a fingernail fell away to reveal the wrinkled flesh beneath.

"Nuhh nuhhh nuuhhhh!" Abigail tried to say through her ruined mouth while waving her palms. More fingernails were flicked away by the motion but she ignored them and ran, shoving the side door open and then slamming it shut behind her.

Her heart constricted in her chest and the pain of it shot through her core. Tendons stood out on her neck while sweat poured over her body. The chain of her necklace tightened painfully until she roared and grabbed at her throat to tear it away. And still the pain coursed through her while her heart hammered.

Dark points speared the tips of her fingers. The hot, throbbing pain of her claws taking root against the bones beneath was nothing compared to the torture being inflicted on the rest of her body but she still felt it and she roared when the claws slid forth to tear into her pale, bare skin. Blood seeped from the wounds but they healed within seconds. The black claws grew as wide as the tips of her swollen fingers.

Abigail tore at her dress in a frantic effort to ease the agony pounding through her chest. Muscles bulged when she flexed her biceps. The sleeves of the dress ripped to show thick veins beneath the hardened skin of her powerful arms. Blonde hairs grew in scattered patches over her forearms as she dug her fingers into the neck of her dress. She pulled and the front of her dress tore like paper.

The hooks of her deadly claws caught the wire frame of her bra, easily tearing it in half down the center. Her breasts, slicked with sweat, shook as she flung the bra to the side. Her pink nipples hardened in the suddenly cool air, twisting and pushing outward while she ripped the rest of her dress apart.

Bone white fangs pierced the healing holes lining her jaw. Abigail roared, flinging spittle as the new teeth split her gums open to fill her mouth with blood once more. She swallowed, greedily this time, while running her tongue over the fangs. They forced her lips back when they grew at curved angles, overwhelming her small mouth until she felt her jaw and cheekbones break. She gagged once more and fell to her knees.

"Wrrrrryyyyyy," Abigail tried to say, panting and moaning while her mouth reshaped.

Air wheezed through the girl's lips as she raised her head in a mock howl. Skin pulled tight over her ribcage when the bones opened like gruesome wings. Her sternum snapped but healed and the density increased before cracking again and healing once more. The girl's already slim stomach sucked inward when her chest opened, leaving her with a gaunt appearance.

The blonde hairs growing over her arms reached up to her shoulders. They lengthened into curly strands as they crept over to her neck and down over her chest and back.

Explosions rocked her back, forcing her to her hands and knees. The agony she'd felt before was nothing compared to what she was experiencing now. Muscle fibers grew throughout her body and now they tore at her spine, forcing them up against her back until the pronounced s-curve threatened to tear the skin over her back.

Her shoulder blades swelled, flexing inward and outward with every ragged breath she took. Her broad chest lent her voice a deep, growling bass as she pushed down, forcing her back inward until her hips cracked and the stub of her tail shoved up against her flesh.

The muscles spreading through her body pulled her apart. She growled, snapping and gnashing her teeth when her feet pushed back against the thin carpet and her spine snapped in quick succession.

"Abi! Abigail!" Father John yelled as he entered the back area. "Oh my God! Oh God! What's wrong, Abigail!"

Anger filled her. His voice was too loud and his fear prickled her nerves. Her ears bent as she forced herself to stand. He stopped in front of her, his face a mask of terror as he stared at her lengthening jaw. Microscopic hooks pulled her nose wide as her muzzle grew in place. Blonde stubble dotted her cheeks. Her ears twitched as they stretched, the tips unrolling to strain outwards into sharp points covered in short gray hairs.

No, she thought to herself, shaking her head while growling and licking her lips. As her muzzle grew, more fangs emerged from the gaps in her jaw until she was left with a mouthful of fearsome teeth. No!

"I- I- I-" Father John stuttered.

She reached for him, placing her hand on his shoulder with a pleading look in her golden eyes. The girl licked her lips, flashed her fangs and growled while her still growing ears flexed down. She towered over Father John now and she stared down at him. Breathing in his terror. Smelling his blood and meat. The beast hungered within her and it grew larger with every passing second.

"Faaaatherrrrrr heeelp," she moaned.

Abigail clenched her paw, easily snapping the priest's clavicle while her curved claws tore chunks of flesh from his back. His screams filled the room.

"No. No! Quiet! Be! Be QUIET!" Abigail roared. Rage filled her. She would be caught. He would draw their attention and they would see her.

The girl lunged forward, snapping her jaws against the man's throat. Blood gushed over the bare skin high on her cheeks and forehead as well as the golden fur marching over her jaw. She reached up with her other hand to hold him in place as she tore into him while forcing him down to the ground. Her short tail curled and waved slowly behind her, hairless still, as she feasted. Blood gurgled through his ruined throat.

Long hairs wound through the holes in Abigail's stockings as they tore over her swelling thighs. Her panties sawed into her sex when her hips widened to match her growing frame but she ignored it as she ripped meat from her prey.

Only when she felt her toes cracking and popping did she growl and look back, staring as the tiny points of her growing claws tore through the flats she'd worn. The soles separated when the joints grew swollen and her feet widened. Abigail kicked her feet back, first one and then the other until they were bare. Her big toes shriveled into thick dewclaws while her arches vanished, pulled flat by bones and muscles reshaping in her feet.

"Father John, we heard screams. Is everything-" a feminine voice asked.

Abigail could smell the woman's perfume from twenty feet away but she ignored her until the woman spoke. The door creaked open but Abigail coiled back on her paws and leapt, breaking the door from its hinges. It bent under Abigail's weight, pressing into the woman and then down, crushing her skull against the ground and killing her instantly. Blood oozed out into a wide, dark pool over the marble floor.

Screams filled the nave. People close to the front ran first, pushing others to the ground in their rush to escape while the people in the back tried to see what had happened. Abigail jumped, claws out and arms wide in order to tackle an older woman struggling to stand. She grabbed the woman's head and pulled, tearing it free to throw behind her before reaching out to grab a young man that had flirted with her the day before. She pushed, forcing him to the ground while clamping her jaws over his shoulder and back, tearing into him as he screamed beneath her.

Abigail's torn stockings were nearly hidden beneath the thick curly blonde fur that covered her entire body. Brilliant crimson blood, glistening bone and chunks of flesh littered her fur as she forced her muzzle into the dead man's back to gnaw against his spine. Her tail, heavy and thick with fur, waved behind her.

Her hunger seemed unending and the rage continued to boil as she stood slowly on two legs, her sharp ears tall while her black-ringed eyes stared at the chaos.

She would hunt them all, she knew. Even when she was sated and full, she would continue to hunt under the light of the moon, one by one until they were all dead.

The beast demanded it and Abigail, hidden beneath layers and layers and layers of pain and anger, quailed as she shared in the excitement.
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Unread 05-05-2021   #30
LycanDope
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Idolatry
------------------------------------
A young woman becomes begins to change after touching a perverse statue.

I wanted to write a quick little story based on the artwork here: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/86985391 by c-san (I believe?)

You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham
-------------------------------------------------
Orange maple leaves spun through the air from arching branches high overhead. Wind ruffled the trees until the susurration surrounded the two women walking on the empty path below.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Fumiko asked while smiling up at the scattered, shifting sunlight filtered by the boughs above them.

"Ye-es," Katsumi agreed hesitantly. She pulled her thin black coat closer around her body. Goosebumps rose on her skin while she shivered. It'd been warm when she'd left her home to meet her friend and she hadn't planned on the long drive out to the mountain. The girl cast an envious look at her blonde haired friend in her long, blue coat and thick black leggings. "I just wish I'd dressed warmer."

"Well, don't blame me, I told you the ryokan was hidden away in the mountains," Fumiko said.

You didn't, Katsumi thought but she kept it to herself while bowing her head and pulling her jacket tighter. The wind found every little hole in her stockings - hungry little freezing worms burrowing deep.

"Once we finish our walk, we'll go back to the car and drive the rest of the way," Fumiko continued. She reached out to snatch one of the maple leaves as it fell, missing on her first try. "And then you can warm yourself in the roten-buro. It'll be worth it. We both need some time away from the city to relax."

It was true and even with the cold, Katsumi was grateful for the excursion and time away from her work. The commute combined with the long hours and the inevitable return to her lonely apartment in the evenings left her feeling lifeless - a puppet existing for the sole purpose of working and nothing more. She didn't even want to consider the lack of a love life.

As they continued to walk, the wind died down and the trees grew sparse enough to allow the sun to warm them up. Katsumi slipped out of her jacket to let it rest against her shoulders when they paused for Fumiko to read the map on the side of the path.

"It looks like it splits off ahead with one path leading to the ryokan and the other looping back to the parking lot," Fumiko said.

A sharp, sudden gust of wind sliced through the warming air to ruffle the faux cerulean fur lining the hood of Fumiko's coat. Katsumi pulled her jacket over her turtleneck sweater. Her forearms bumped into her breasts, pressing them together beneath the sweater. The girl's cheeks grew red at the sudden, unwelcome memory of middle school girls mocking her, ringing her as they sang a made up song about the dumb ushi attending classes with them. She'd developed far earlier than her classmates and even now her breasts were larger than nearly every other woman she knew.

Katsumi shook her hair before brushing fingers through her black bob cut to fix the loose strands into place. She still fought against that memory and the others, arguing with herself in her own mind. In a way, she worried it had defined her personality moving forward, leaving her slow to anger and overly thoughtful. Passive and non-direct in her interactions with others. But she told herself, as always, that it was due to being forced to withdraw as a child in order to keep them from noticing her and picking on her. Her shyness was her shield against the insults they used to hurl at her.

Fumiko skipped and spun with her arms wide and a simple, happy smile on her face that made Katsumi smile in return. They'd met later in life, in upper-secondary school when Fumiko had forced herself into Katsumi's daily life, sitting with her to eat and talking, often by herself, about her life and day-to-day events. A friendship bloomed and lasted.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Katsumi, look!"

Katsumi went to her tiptoes to look over her friend's shoulder.

A bronze bull statue rested atop a platform within a small alcove of bushes. Katsumi followed her friend but she stopped with her hand against her mouth and her eyes wide.

The bull sported an enormous, exaggerated cock that curved away from its belly. Easily sixty centimeters long where the statue itself was just barely longer than a meter from snout to hindquarters. Its front left leg was raised with its head lifted as if eyeing a waiting heifer further down an imaginary field.

"T- touch it," Fumiko said while grabbing her phone from her pocket.

"I am not touching that thing," Katsumi said firmly.

"Katsumi-chan, please," Fumiko pleaded. "I've never wanted to see anything more in my life. I'm begging you. Let me just get one picture. Of you touching it. Please. I'll never ask for anything again. Please."

"You always ask me to do ridiculous things!" Katsumi replied. "Just last night you got me drunk so we could strip down to our underwear and take 'modeling' pictures together! I only remembered when I checked my phone this morning. I had to delete almost a hundred pictures!"

"You didn't delete all of- uhh, n- nevermind," Fumiko said. Now she blushed and looked away while rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Look. One picture and I won't do anything the rest of the trip. You can remind me about it and everything. If I try to get you to dance naked tonight you can remind me how I made you touch the bull's penis and I'll leave you alone. I promise."

She knew she would do it. She was weak against her friend's requests and already more submissive than she'd like to be. And even if she didn't truly believe her friend would honor the agreement, the idea of not having to worry over being asked to do something outside her comfort level for the rest of the trip was enticing.

"And- and you won't share it?" Katsumi asked while pressing her hands together over her chest.

"You know I'd never do that," Fumiko said with a stern frown.

It was true. Despite all of the shenanigans the girl caused, she'd never done anything to directly embarrass Katsumi in front of others. Which was one of the reasons their friendship had endured.

"O-okay," Katsumi said, resigned to her fate.

Fumiko backed up with her phone in hand and an excited grin on her face.

Why do you always fall for this? Katsumi asked herself. She felt her heart race as she approached the perverse statue.

"Oh, umm, there's a sign here that says not to touch the statue," Katsumi said with some relief.

"You promised!" Fumiko reminded her, standing with her phone out in front of her, ready to take the picture. "Nobody is here. Nobody will even know! Please!"

With her left hand against her chest and her toes pointed inward to betray her awkwardness, she reached a trembling hand out without watching. Katsumi tried to smile but her lips and her eyes showed her embarrassment and eagerness to be done with the task.

Her fingers touched the metal. She jumped and almost glanced at it when she felt warmth against her hand but instead forced herself to look towards her friend. And so, she surprised herself when she wrapped her fingers around the bull's shaft to squeeze it tightly.

Heat radiated throughout her palm and fingers before spreading up to her wrist and forearm. Katsumi moaned and her hand slid as if stroking the bull's penis. The sensation echoed between her legs until her knees felt weak.

"I got it," Fumiko crowed, turning away while opening her phone's gallery to look at the picture.

Katsumi stared at her friend. At the loose blonde ponytail held by a baby blue scrunchy on the girl's head, reminding her all the world like a tail. For some reason, that only made her more excited. Her hand released the bull's penis and she leaned forward with her palm against the platform beneath the statue.

The shape of Fumiko's hips against her coat drilled into Katsumi's mind. And the ass beneath. She could vaguely remember how her friend looked in her panties last night and the thought filled her mind.

Katsumi grunted and hung her head but lifted it and licked her lips to stare again. Pressure filled her chest and lower belly.

"Yes! I took pictures last night, too!" Fumiko said with excitement in her voice.

Brown hairs pierced the back of Katsumi's hands as she pawed the front of her sweater. Her jacket slipped free from her shoulders to the ground below but she didn't care. Despite the cold wind, she was starting to sweat. The hairs multiplied and spread, racing up her arms beneath the sleeves of her sweater. She gasped when she finally noticed the fur, raising her hands in front of her face to stare at them.

Before she could express her alarm, she moaned and pressed her hands into the gap between her thighs. Her clit bulged until it escaped her hood and it continued to grow while a slit opened in the very tip. The hood stretched with it, surrounding the clit to form the shaft of her growing cock. Her skirt trapped it, forcing it down to rub against her slick, swollen pussy lips. She moaned once more and grunted as the tip shoved her panties aside to slip free.

"Fu-" Katsumi tried to say but the pressure built to a crescendo in her chest. She felt her soft breasts sliding beneath her sweater, skin against skin as the band of her bra strained against her body. She reached behind to grab the strap but the clasps snapped, freeing her expanding chest. Her breasts pulled her sweater tight and still they continued to expand until she was gasping from the sensation of her nipples dragging against the fabric.

Katsumi's lengthening cock forced her legs apart. She felt it sliding against the inside of her thighs and she shivered when the sensitive head rubbed against the hairs beginning to emerge from her legs. She could feel the veins against her thighs, thick and ropy while her cock stretched towards her knees. Precum welled from the tip before smearing against the fur growing on her legs while more cum slid from the lips of her pussy to droop and hang from her lips and thighs.

Seams burst from the side of her skirt. Katsumi grunted and nearly fell when her hips cracked. Muscle bulged beneath her waist and her ass as bare skin, covered in scattered brown fur protruded from the tears in her skirt.

Katsumi huffed. She gripped her skirt, tearing the tattered remains away completely to stroke herself while staring at Fumiko. Her jaw creaked when her nose shoved forward and her tongue, thick and fleshy, hung from her lips, tipped with drool. Hardened rings grew from her temples, keratin forming in layers until the rounded tips of her horns took shape. They built slowly, curving as they elongated, slipping through her dark hair.

"Need- need to-" Katsumi moaned, shoving at her massive cock as it hardened, lifting to bob in front of her. She huffed and grunted and gripped the dick to pump it slowly, all the while staring at her friend.

The urge to breed filled the girl's thoughts. She shook her head but it persisted and she could visualize herself mounting Fumiko. The expected revulsion never came and, instead, she panted and grew more eager.

"Oh, gosh, I can almost see your- well, uh, never mind," Fumiko coughed, flicking through the pictures on her phone.

Holes appeared in the front of Katsumi's sweater and over her biceps when muscle grew beneath the skin. She moaned, loudly, and gripped the sweater to easily tear it and her bra fell away.

Flesh swayed low on her wide, furry back. Long hairs grew from the tip of her tail as it swished and lengthened. Katsumi stomped one aching foot and then the other. And then again until the soles exploded from her boots. She stomped once more and the crack of the thick, hardened nails covering her feet resounded throughout the small area. The twin masses of her split hooves grew dense as brown fur spread down over her shins and shifting feet.

Katsumi stared down at her friend with a dazed, hungry expression. Fumiko's ponytail swished back and forth, distracting Katsumi with it's movements as her bestial brain continued to equate it to a tail. She huffed and stomped over, towering over her friend who turned.

"Who-?!" Fumiko gasped but she stared at the torn neck of Katsumi's sweater around the creature's throat as well as the tatters of the same sweater around her expanded waist. "Kat- Katsumi? Wha- what ha-"

Katsumi shoved her cock against Fumiko's mouth. The tip slid against the other woman's lips and then her cheek when she turned away from it. Fumiko shoved back but a tree slammed into her, stopping her motion. She wiped cum from her lips and cheek, opening her mouth to protest and beg but the scent of the cum filled her - vapors surrounding her brain.

"Ka- KatsumuuuuUUHH," Fumiko lowed and her tongue reached out to clean her hand and then her cheek and lips, working in a circle while skin hardened on her temples in twin rings.

Katsumi shoved forward and this time Fumiko opened her mouth and still it stretched her until her jaw ached. The bones clicked within while she gagged on the massive length of Katsumi's dick, taking as much as she could while her face pushed forward into a muzzle. Katsumi bellowed. She reached forward to grip Fumiko's hair to hold her in place while pumping back and forth.

Fumiko's coat strained against her growing frame. Her narrow hips stretched her black tights when fatty tissue formed beneath the skin. The coat tightened against her midriff when her small breasts swelled, blue veins standing out on pale skin as they slid free from her bra. They bounced as they grew and her nipples lengthened while milk dotted the tips.

The buttons holding Fumiko's coat flexed until they popped free to show a shirt pulled taut against her expanding breasts. A small tear appeared in the very center of the shirt. She ignored all of the changes as she bounced her head back and forth against Katsumi's cock and her broad, pink nose opened and closed while she breathed, unwilling to let go until her friend found her release.

Katsumi pulled her cock from Fumiko's mouth. Fumiko reached for it to pull it back until Katsumi reached down, grabbing the other woman's hips to turn her around.

"Want- want you-" Fumiko panted, licking her muzzle while white hairs grew from the cheeks of her long snout. "Always. Always wanted you. Wanted you."

The front of Fumiko's shirt split and her breasts spilled forth. They shook and her long nipples flopped freely, leaking milk down to the white fur growing over her belly. Black hairs mixed with the white in circular splotches throughout as she lifted her leg to hook it over Katsumi's leg.

Katsumi gripped Fumiko's horn with one hand while the other reached down to the woman's breast, squeezing the soft flesh with her larger fingers pinching the base of her nipples.

"Mate- mate- muuh- MUUUOOOOOOO!" Fumiko lowed when Katsumi shoved her cock into Fumiko's waiting, wet pussy. Her eyes widened as she was stretched beyond her limits. A bulge appeared low on her belly when Katsumi shoved deep inside.

Fumiko's body grew limp from overstimulation. She dropped until Katsumi grabbed her arm to pull her back against her body with Fumiko's head resting between Katsumi's massive breasts. Fumiko's stubby tail thumped against Katsumi's side, the furry tip brushing back and forth as it lengthened, wrist-thick to slide down and slap against Katsumi's thighs. She couldn't think past the giant cock stretching her pussy. It slammed deep inside, bringing pain until Katsumi pulled back to rub against the muscles within. Drool dripped from the tip of Fumiko's tongue while milk sprayed from the nipple Katsumi squeezed.

With every thrust, skin slapped against Fumiko's reddened pussy lips. The loose skin inflated while testicles formed and they became bloated until Katsumi's scrotum slammed against Fumiko, enhancing the sensation of pleasure she felt.

"Gonna- gonna- gonna-" Katsumi grunted and bellowed and swelled within Fumiko. Fumiko raised her head to low long and loud from the immense orgasm exploding inside of her. Her pussy convulsed against Katsumi's cock while copious amounts of cum spilled from around her shaft to coat the black and white fur covering her thighs and crotch.

Katsumi gripped Fumiko's horn and ponytail as she pulled out. Fumiko trembled from the feeling of it until it was gone and the emptiness ached within. She knelt, gripping her toes as the nails overwhelmed them, growing outward into dense hooves that spread over the tips of her feet. She moaned when Katsumi slapped her still-hard cock against her furry cheek and her tongue lapped out to clean it.

"You deserve more," Fumiko groaned. Her head was spinning, full of animalistic thoughts and the need to be bred until her belly was bulging and her breasts had doubled in size, hot and hard and demanding to be milked. She turned to look towards the path that led to the ryokan. "More."

They walked the path together on their hooves, holding hands while their fur waved in the wind and their tails rocked behind them. Katsumi's cock slapped against her thighs until they reached the inn and she heard voices within. She grumbled and moaned and stroked herself while Fumiko gasped beside her, reaching her small, soft hands around the shaft to help.

"N- no- wait," Fumiko groaned, forcing her hands away. She led Katsumi into the inn.

A door slid open and a couple walked into the hallway wearing yukatas. Katsumi grabbed the woman, pulling her robe open while turning her and shoving her cock between her thighs, thrusting and thrusting and thrusting and thrusting until the magic wound its way around her and the woman moaned. She grew wet and her pussy flexed, the lips spreading over the monstrosity pushing into her. Her scream was one of pleasure and she reached up to grip the back of Katsumi's head while milk leaked from her nipples and her meager breasts began to grow.

Beside her, Fumiko pushed the man to the floor while shoving down and grinding against his cock. When he opened his mouth to protest, she leaned forward to shove her nipple into his mouth. He swallowed by reflex but shoved at her. Fumiko smiled when she felt him grow hard between her soft, furry pussy lips and his arms weakened, holding her instead of pushing and his mouth worked, sucking and drinking the milk flowing from her nipples.

Fumiko rode him while staring at Katsumi. Every time her ass smacked down against the man's thighs, she felt him grow smaller inside. She enjoyed what she could, turning back to him finally to see the front of his yukata slipping open to show the breasts growing on his chest. They rocked from the impact of Fumiko riding his dick until it shriveled down to a tiny bulbous clit that slid further beneath a fleshy hood. The man moaned when his pussy opened for the first time and Fumiko stood, pulling him up to lead him to Katsumi.

"Not- not- yet!" The woman, kneeling now while being fucked from behind, with her massive tits swaying back and forth, gasped, shoving her ass back into Katsumi. "It's muhh- my- muhhh- MOOOOOOOO!"

The man whimpered and sat and touched himself, stroking his new pussy while he watched. Leaning back to play with his nipples as they lengthened and his face stretched forward.

They moved from room to room afterwards, spreading the blessings until the inn was full of women waiting and eager to be filled by Katsumi.
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Last edited by LycanDope; 05-19-2021 at 07:35 AM.
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Unread 06-01-2021   #31
LycanDope
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Join Date: Apr 2008
Posts: 622
Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Pisces
------------------------------------
A shy young woman stumbles into a magical store where she buys an anklet that increases her self-confidence but it comes with hidden side effects that soon become very physical...

Please see the wonderful art the commissioner commissioned here: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41866778/ from the talented Gala!

An old commission I finally finished!

You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham

-------------------------------------------------

The pen rolled, pulled between Victoria's lips when she pushed her bottom lip forward. It spun again when she drew her lip back. She breathed through her nose, blinked and twirled the pen forward, idly enjoying the repetitive action while her eyes scanned the monitor in front of her. Sharp red strands from her messy bob haircut swayed lightly while she nodded back and forth.

She hummed softly, creating a song using pieces of music cobbled together by her subconscious mind in an endless melody that helped to fill the emptiness of the often quiet store. The pen rolled. Stopped. Rolled. Rolled rolled rolled stopped.

A shadow passed on the wall behind her, drawing her attention to the mirror resting at an angle to the side of the register on her left. Her heart skipped a beat. She opened her mouth to drop the pen, catching it in one fluid movement with her left hand.

Victoria winced at herself in the mirror. Blue ink smeared the very corner of her lips. She sighed and touched the ink before running a knuckle along the freckles covering her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her fingernail clicked against the mirror when she touched it to gently turn it away from her until a black door was reflected - the entrance to the back room where the owner of the little plant nursery, Elias, was waiting for- waiting for-

She wasn't sure exactly what Elias did.

There was a specific class of customers who only spoke with Elias. After two years of working at the small store, she found she could pick them out as soon as they walked in and it became a little game for her to while away the hours in between caring for the plants. She couldn't pinpoint exactly <i>what</i> it was but she'd never made a single mistake over the last month. It wasn't the way they held themselves; some were stiff-backed and assured while others slouched and slinked. Still others assumed a casual countenance, wandering the store as if interested in the labeled herbs sitting within the hydroponic containers.

They all eventually made their way over to her in order to ask for variants of the same thing: <i>'I need to make a bulk order'</i> or <i>'I have a large amount of special items I need to purchase'</i> and any other request that fit the theme. Those customers were always sent to the back room and, if they ever returned, she was to allow them back without question.

Despite being return customers, they never gave their names and Elias politely avoided the subject when she'd asked after a few of the more outlandish ones. In return, she'd named them herself.

Ms. Crow Hat was her favorite. She wore a black bonnet edged with lace and silk roses but the crowning achievement was a large crow's head attached directly to the center of the brim. Victoria prayed it was a well made toy but it seemed real enough that she worried it was taxidermy work. The woman was middle-aged and always wore dresses in varying shades of <b><i>dark</i></b>. Even though she never purchased anything in the front of the store, she would make a full inspection and point out any issues she noticed. Yet she also praised Victoria if everything was in order. And sometimes she would tilt her head <i>just so</i> as if giving the crow a view of something interesting.

Other regulars included Ms. Serene - sometimes also referred to as Mrs. Must Be On Some Amazing Shit due to how incredibly laid back she was. Slow and smiling as if <i>everything </i>was new and interesting but she couldn't be bothered to react to any of it. Then there was Mr. Twitchy, who couldn't stay still.

Beautiful Question Mark was an androgynous enigma - cordial but distant and ethereal. Tall and lean. Whenever Beautiful Question Mark passed through the store, Victoria was left in a dizzy haze for hours, distracted by every little thing around her.

Even more puzzling was Accountant Man. He wore his white shirt with the long sleeves rolled up and his tie was perpetually loosened with the tip crumpled against his barely bulging beer belly. The man appeared constantly tired with his thinning hair tousled while his thick glasses were canted slightly on his broad nose. Still, he always said he hoped she was having a nice day before heading to the back room with his jacket clenched in his left hand. When he'd arrived the first time, she'd been certain she was wrong about him being a 'back-room-er' until he stood before the desk to ask for help on some unnamed bulk goods.

For a while she was sure it was all drugs and even now she sometimes worried the police would storm the building. Marijuana was legal but perhaps it was something else. Something more exotic.

In the end, it didn't matter. She was hired to sell herbs and plants and never saw anything out of order. Elias never asked her to do anything but care for the plants and treat the customers with respect. She'd say the same to any police.

When nothing else moved in the back of the room, Victoria turned the mirror back. She sighed as she stared at herself. An array of skylights filled the store with natural sunlight. One of the windows sat just behind her. She leaned back slightly until her face was highlighted. The direct light caused her freckles to fade somewhat while her short hair cast jagged shadowy cliffs against the green apron she wore over her dress shirt.

"Disheveled," she told her reflection while toying with the ends of her hair.

She'd tried different styles over the years before settling on the modified bob cut. Shoulder-length hair left her feeling like she was wearing a perpetual shawl while longer hair was a time consuming hassle to care for. Her mother called it 'boyish', but she thought it felt modern. It was her one remaining middle finger to conformity after a brief fling with a goth lifestyle as a teenager.

And so, it was a surprise when she found herself becoming infatuated with her boss.

Elias was everything she wasn't; self assured, calm, well put together and incredibly decisive. In their always brief interactions, he never misspoke or misrepresented himself. She felt relaxed simply being in his presence. Relaxed but also captivated. He was beautiful, tall with broad shoulders and curly brown hair perfectly framing his face. Clean shaven with high cheekbones and an expression constantly on the knife's edge of tranquility and amused interest.

The only fault she could find is that he wore the same style of clothing every day - dark gray slacks with a matching vest over a crisp white dress shirt. In the winter, he added a currant colored scarf and an overcoat but the base look was always the same. And even then it only served to highlight his allure. A not-so-small part of her interest in him was the constant wondering of what he was like beyond the persona he'd adapted for work. However, the physical attraction and the feeling of being anchored in his presence were what really drove her to him.

"And yet, here I am," she said with a sigh.

A week or more could go by without seeing anything more than a sliver of his arm when the back door was opened. And whenever he did spend time with her, he always spoke courteously to her but distantly - a god relaying orders to his disciple.

The one friend she'd been able to hold onto after college was no help. Her idea to 'just talk to him, maybe bring him something he likes and ask to get lunch together to get to know him' was utterly laughable. Searching the Internet for tips was not much better as most of those boiled down to the same formula - be cheerful, get to know them, find common interests, develop rapport and slowly increase your relationship until you feel comfortable enough to ask them on a date.

"How can I 'build rapport' if I'm too terrified to even <b><i>talk </i></b>to him?" she groaned, laying her head on her folded arms atop at the counter.

With a loud, overly dramatic groan, Victoria pushed herself up. She brushed her fingers through the tips of her hair and pulled at her apron, settling it in place before starting a circuit around the store to inspect the plants.

Victoria hummed sotto voce when she stood before the cooler, nodding her head from side-to-side while eyeing every cut in turn before checking the humidity gauge.

Hydroponics was next - her favorite section. The system took an entire wall with rows of herbs nestled carefully into their own segment of long rectangular blocks. The faint buzz of the high-pressure sodium bulbs mingled with the hum of the multiple air pumps to create a soothing white noise that permeated the store to drown out the already faint sounds of traffic outside. She tested the pH levels while checking and tweaking the system's pressure and humidity until she was satisfied with their numbers.

A few plants needed a little extra water in the afternoon so she topped them off carefully before returning to her survey.

Pruning scissors were set beside a large pot containing the narrow, towering stems of wormwood where it lay in a shaft of natural light. She breathed in deeply while leaning in to carefully push stalks aside. As always, the scent from the plant reminded her of Thanksgiving dinners from her childhood, before her grandmother passed away.

"Arrrrr tea meeee sia aaaaab sin theee uuum," Victoria sang, off key as she snipped the tip from one of the stems with a well-practiced, precise touch. She enjoyed the way the syllables rolled off her tongue and often found herself repeating the little sing-song when alone with the plant. "Arrrrtemisssssiaaaaa aaaabsinthiuuuuum. Artemisia a-a-a-absinthium."

"Nice work today," a well-cultured voice said from behind Victoria.

"Oh, God Da- aaANG! Dangit!" Victoria corrected, just before cursing. She jumped, mid-snip and a large part of the plant fell away. "Aww, no. Poor little guy. I'm so, so- oh. Oh, um."

Elias stood behind her with his unworn coat folded over his left hand. She turned to see him standing passively behind her but his eyes followed the falling clipping before it was caught by nearby stalks.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he told her. Victoria faced him but stared at his chest while scratching the palm of her hand with the curved edges of the scissors. When she realized what she was doing, she hid the scissors behind her back. "It's my fault. I thought, perhaps, you heard me coming."

"No, ah, sorry, I didn't," she said, chancing a quick peek up at his face. There was no anger in his expression and no amusement at her fumbling. Long strands of his hair hid the corner of his left eye. For a single, heart-racing moment she felt an insane urge to tenderly reach up to caress his cheek and fix the wayward curls. She could visualize it happening in her mind's eye and the thrill of it made her swallow and look back down to his chest. To the well-tailored shirt and tie and vest hiding his broad, no doubt muscular- "Ha ha. You- you got me good."

"Not on purpose, I assure you," he told her. "I'll take the cutting; I'm sure I can find a use for it somewhere."

Victoria stared at his hand when he reached out. She swallowed once more but then twitched when she realized he was waiting for her. Turning back to the plant, she reached for the piece she'd cut but realized too late that she used the hand that held the scissors. With an awkward giggle that made her groan internally, she lay the scissors down and grabbed for the cutting but, instead, hit the stems supporting it, causing it to fall again. Her stomach dropped as she imagined Elias standing behind her with his hand out. Waiting. Finally, she snatched the plant and turned.

He stood patiently with his wide hand held out steadily before him. She couldn't remember if she'd ever seen his hand up close before. His nails were perfectly manicured and even the lines criss-crossing his palm were smooth and unbroken.

"Oh, sorry!" Victoria said when she realized she was just standing in front of him.

She reached out to place the cutting in his hand. Where her fingertips brushed his bare skin, tingling jolts shot up to her elbow before melting into pools of warmth that flowed up to her shoulders and down, raising the hairs along its path until it reached the tips of her toes.

"Victoria?"

"Oh! I'm so- here, sorry!" she said, dropping the cutting and snatching her hand away to clench at her side. She rubbed her thigh, just beneath her hip with her fist while desperately ignoring the signals racing through her body.

It was the first time in her life she felt her entire body yearn for someone. She'd had her flings in college but they were quick, immature things compared to what she was experiencing now. She wanted to collapse against him with his arms around her, supporting her. Massaging her. Fingers roaming her body while she whimpered for him to-

"Thank you," he said, interrupting her reverie. Her hand quested blindly for the edge of the table next to her until she felt the cold surface and then she gripped it tightly to hold herself up. "Lock up when you're done and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

<i>Have lunch with me,</i> she thought towards him.

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled while nodding with a wide, closed-mouth smile.

Victoria watched him gently thumb the leaves on the small plant before turning to leave.

<i>I could buy,</i> she continued to think as she stared at his straight back. <i>Or you could. Or I could make something and bring it in. I don't know what you like but if we talked a while and you told me, I could make it.</i>

"Oh," Elias said, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.

"Yes! Um, yes?" she asked, gripping the counter with all her strength until her forearm trembled.

<i>Please ask me to have lunch with you,</i> she pleaded mentally. <i>Or dinner. I don't care if it's just an employee lunch. Or not. Just, give me </i><b><i>something!</i></b>

"I think I forgot to lock my door," he told her. "Could you take care of it for me?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely yes," she replied, smiling even wider to hide her embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

"Absolutely!" she repeated.

<i>God</i><b><i>dammit, </i></b>she cursed before channeling all of her pent up energy into a mental scream that didn't touch the obviously fake grin affixed to her face.

Elias left and the door hissed quietly behind him.

"Goddammit," Victoria said out loud this time, sinking to her knees to carefully rest her forehead against the counter next to the wormwood.

His touch still resonated throughout her body, lingering deep within as a slow, pulsing beat cast out as rippling waves that left her aching for his touch once more. She stored the memory of all of it as well as she could knowing that she would revisit it once more in bed later that evening.

The rest of the closing routine was minimal - turning the sign over, locking the computer on the counter and shutting off the lights.

It was a rare occasion indeed that she was asked to deal with the back office aside from directing important clients where they needed to go. And, now that she thought about it, she wondered why she never brought the customers to the door. It suddenly struck her as odd that she simply let them go rather than walking with them in order to open the door and ensure they were allowed or to check if they had an appointment.

Victoria took the keys from her pocket as she walked past her desk. After a few steps, she slowed.

<i>I'm sure it's fine,</i> she thought to herself, gripping the keys in her hand while reaching for her pocket. <i>The front door will be locked; nobody will go into the back. I just- no. No. Elias asked me to lock the back door. I'll do it.</i>

She took two more steps, edging closer to the door and, yet again found herself coming to a stop.

<i>He's never let me back here,</i> she considered, chewing against the side of her mouth. <i>Maybe he forgot and didn't actually want me to do it? If it just slipped his mind. Argh. No. He was clear about it. I'll take care of it. I will.</i>

The door loomed before her as if she were looking through a fisheye lens or a fun house mirror. She squeezed her eyes closed against a bout of nausea while raising her hand to the deadbolt. Bile rose to burn the back of her throat but she worked through it to insert the key into the lock and turn until it gave a satisfying 'click' in response. Cold sweat formed on her brow and beneath the strap of her bra. She swallowed back the urge to throw up as she locked the doorknob as well.

The pressure throbbing behind her eyes lessened when she turned to walk back to the front of the store. Every step eased the pain and queasiness until it vanished when she was close to her desk.

"Good Lord, Victoria," she said, sighing while rubbing at her temples. She cleared her throat until the burning passed. "Being infatuated is one thing but weird psychosomatic physical pain just because you get close to his office? Get a grip on yourself, girl."

With the back door locked, she finished a few small remaining tasks before stepping outside and locking the front door. Foot traffic on the sidewalk in front of the door was slow. The dinner crowds were home, still mulling over their potential choices before flooding the downtown restaurants.

It was her favorite time of the day - work was just finished, leaving her to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. She lived close enough to enjoy walking home outside under the sun without too many people around her. Even now she kept her eyes on the ground with her shoulders hunched forward while watching her feet. She stepped over cracks in the pavement, shorting her stride or lengthening it as necessary to entertain herself as she walked.

Two blocks away from the nursery where she worked, a stray beam of light struck her eye. Victoria flinched. She shaded her eyes and turned to find the source.

A small boutique was nestled snugly between a Green Life Smoothie and an upscale used clothing store called, appropriately, Rethreaded.

"Since when?" Victoria asked nobody in particular while staring at the boutique.

It was unsettling. Her brain fought against it, as if trying to solve an optical illusion. The boutique trembled, the walls bowing in for a fraction of a second while the edges wavered. A tiny headache throbbed in the center of her brain while she squinted. The building grew firm once more.

She'd walked to work nearly every weekday down this sidewalk and back home the same way. The image of the two stores were clear in her mind and they were right next to each other. She couldn't even remember how many times she'd sat in the smoothie shop for lunch.

Victoria took a step towards the boutique to stare into the huge glass windows. Two faceless mannequins stared at each other from opposite ends of the display case within. Various styles of jewelry were arranged throughout - necklaces, bracelets, rings, hairpins, medallions, and so much more.

As she stared ahead, her eyes focused directly in front of her to see a simple gray bust with a glittering purple pendant perfectly centered on the chest. It shined in a way that was difficult for her to describe; it wasn't the simple violet coloring of a mass produced piece of plastic or faded amethyst gemstone. Even from where she stood, she could see the deep, rich pigments. Sunlight explored the depths of the pendant, revealing more complex shades until it appeared to fade away to ebony with hints of mauve stars twinkling in the void.

She touched the glass, enthralled by the sight of it as it pulled her in until she drew an involuntary breath. Her body resisted the enchantment, forcing her eyes to drop. The price tag, set on a rectangular card below the pendant, broke the rest of the spell.

"Forty- forty <b><i>thousand</i></b> dollars?!" Victoria gasped.

Her eyes roamed the rest of the items on display but they were of similar prices. She shook her head, amazed at the incredible display of wealth while knowing that if they were willing to have such expensive items shown in the window, the items inside must be even more extravagant.

A single employee, or perhaps the owner, wandered around the store - touching, adjusting, and eyeing the various pieces spread throughout the interior. No customers browsed the boutique.

"I couldn't afford a single thing in there," she told her reflection.

The employee turned from her inspection to notice Victoria, who looked away with her head down to avoid meeting the woman's eyes. She took a step back towards the sidewalk but hesitated. The pendant was as beautiful as any art pieces she'd seen in the few museums she'd visited and she realized she could treat the rest as such. As unobtainable works of art in a high class museum.

Victoria swung back, angling for the door to push it open and slip inside.

Even the <b><i>air</i></b> was a different quality inside. It smelled richer while settling over her with a physical pressure that was comforting with its touch. A gentle hush surrounded her, enhancing her sudden fantasy of being a bored debutante gracing society with her very appearance. She adopted the role in the hope of quelling the butterflies fluttering throughout her belly.

As she feared, the prices within the store <i>skyrocketed</i> into unbelievable heights that left her wondering what the boutique was doing sandwiched between stores frequented by broke college students.

In the front corner of the boutique, a detached wooden arm rested lightly on a red silk pillow. Victoria stared at the bracelet encircling the wrist. The narrow band was rimmed by a silver metal that created visible hexagonal shimmering effects in the soft glow of the overhead lights. An unbroken, polished emerald three inches in diameter lay between the metal.

"I- I- I need this," she stuttered. She whimpered when she tried to look away from the bracelet but it held her complete attention. Her fingers reached out. Already she could see it around her wrist. Walking smugly in public while ensuring everyone would see it. Her temples throbbed as phantom hands squeezed her brain, constricting her willpower.

The placard showed the price in the corner of her eyes. Thirty-five thousand dollars was more than she could spend. Much more than she had readily available. But, already she began to think of ways she could make up the difference - selling plasma, selling her furniture and television and everything else in her apartment. Selling her body. Kneeling in dirty alleys to give to nameless men blowjobs or whatever else it would take to make enough.

"I- nrgh-" she groaned, slowly closing her fingers into a fist, inches away from the bracelet. Physical pain shot throughout her arm.

Ignoring the pain as much as possible, she turned while closing her eyes.

"Huh, that's weird," Victoria said while massaging the side of her neck. The threads of the memory from the last few minutes unraveled into nothingness, leaving the bracelet forgotten.

She moved throughout the store, from one display case to the next while admiring the occasional well-dressed and well-appointed mannequin. It hurt her to think that each of them had a better chance with Elias than she did, and they weren't even <i>real.</i>

Standing in front of one faceless figure, Victoria frowned. She leaned to the side to look for earrings and then down to her neck and over to her hands. With a shrug, she started to turn away until she spied gold surrounding the mannequin's ankle.

Victoria tucked her skirt beneath her thighs as she crouched to get a better view. Unlike the other items, this one had a simple price tag attached directly to the anklet rather than a card set below.

"Just one thousand dollars," she said wryly while reaching out to touch the little square paper. "That's basically nothing compared to the rest of the items. You're like the plastic trash of overly expensive trinkets. Poor little thing."

Three symbols were etched into the golden band, side-by-side. They tickled her mind and she wondered, vaguely if they were Egyptian or Greek glyphs. She'd have to ask when she brought it to the register-

<i>Wait, I can't afford this,</i> she told herself. She <b><i>could</i></b>, she knew. Her account had the money for it even if she'd need to watch her budget for the next two months to make space for it. <i>No, seriously, I can't afford it.</i>

The vision of her unlatching it to carry it to the counter was clear in her mind. Enough so that she found herself mimicking the movements in her mind, slipping fingers around to the back until they brushed the clasp. She felt suddenly certain in her ability to cut out a few things from her groceries as well as shifting her monthly 'fun' fund into the purchase. The decision was clear and simple in her mind despite how she would often argue with herself over such a large, frivolous purchase in the past. It was her habit to go back and forth, potentially agonizing over the decision for a week or more until finally choosing. And even then there would be restless nights where she wondered if she'd picked the right outcome.

Victoria unhooked the clasp while holding the anklet with her free hand. It flexed at the back, opposite the glyphs but was otherwise one connected piece.

It was perfect for her. There was no waffling over the decision. As she held it in her hand, she knew she would buy it and she was immediately satisfied with the decision. Even better, she'd wear it to work tomorrow. With the metal touching her skin, she could easily see herself sporting the band at work, with a low-cut shirt and tight shorts that showed off her legs. Or a low-cut blouse with trousers and heels that left her ankle bare to show off the jewelry, matching Elias' suit with her own sexy spin that left him watching her close. Dazzling him with how the gold complemented her freckles and paleness.

Without a single shred of doubt left, she stood with the anklet in her hand. She'd made up her mind without caring what remained in the unexplored sections of the boutique.

Seeing her approach, the employee quickly finished dusting an amulet inside a display case. She closed the glass panel, latching it with a key around her wrist before making her way to the counter to greet her customer.

<i>I'd like to buy this, please,</i> the words came to Victoria automatically - a memorized phrase she'd used for years.

"I'll take this," she said instead, placing the anklet onto the counter while maintaining eye contact with the employee. Her fingers never left it.

"That's certainly a good choice," the clerk said while glancing down at the item on the counter. "I'm sure whomever you give it to is in for an amazing experience."

"It's for me," Victoria told her boldly.

The words, and the way they were spoken, drew the other woman's attention. She looked up at Victoria and the skin tightened around her eyes.

"For <i>you</i>, you say?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Victoria said, annoyed at having to repeat herself.

"You know, I don't think I've seen you around before," the woman told her. She touched her thumb to a ring on her index finger.

"No, I'm not surprised. This is my first time here," Victoria replied, surprised at the sudden change in the conversation.

The anklet was slipping away from her. A new sense, tied to her increased confidence, let her feel it happening. The other woman's movements made it clear. In the subtle changes of her facial expression and the tone in her words. And the way she held herself suddenly. It made no sense - she had the money to buy the anklet and she wanted it. Why should she care?

"I've passed by a few times but never made the time to stop in," Victoria lied. She was shocked at how easily the words rolled off her tongue, without stuttering or hesitation. The tip of her finger touched the gold band where it lay on the counter. Despite the boldness of her words, she felt her heart racing while her stomach turned sour from anxiety. Yet her outward appearance never changed. "And, really, this piece is perfect for me. I've been ready for a change for quite some time. Why wait? Why hesitate?"

"Well, still-" the clerk said, rubbing the side of her ring.

"Frankly," Victoria said, feeling nausea spreading throughout her body as she stood her ground. "It's none of your business if I want to buy this for someone else or myself. Are you often in the habit of questioning your customers? I'm quite busy, you know."

<i>Please, just let it go. </i><b><i>Please,</i></b><b> </b>Victoria prayed as her lips hardened into a thin line that telegraphed her displeasure.

"Ah, yes ma'am, you're right, of course," the other woman said while relaxing. She opened her, removing her finger from the ring to place her palm flat against the counter while flashing a well practiced smile. "And how will you be paying today?"

<i>Oh, thank god. Thank god,</i> Victoria thought. She smiled in return, bolstered by bluffing her way through the conversation. It was the first time she'd tried it and it felt <b><i>amazing</i></b> to have stood her ground.

"Credit card," Victoria told her while reaching into her purse to retrieve her card from the wallet inside.

"Ah. Oh. Okay," the clerk said.

She knelt, rummaging on a shelf beneath the counter before pulling out a point of sale terminal. The woman turned to blow on it and wipe the dust away before placing it beside her sleek register. She fumbled with cables, muttering quietly until it was connected. Once finished, she glared at it while tapping the side with her finger. Finally, it beeped loudly. She nodded and picked up the credit card Victoria had placed on the counter, swiping it four times with increasing agitation until it finally beeped.

"Sorry about that," the clerk said. She held the card out for Victoria who gave a 'no problem' while taking it. "Oh, sorry, it's printing a receipt. It's been so long. I forgot they did that. I'll throw it away and handwrite a standard receipt for you."

"No, it's fine, I'll take this one. No need to do the extra work," Victoria said. She felt quite magnanimous after her earlier victory.

"You- are you sure?" the wariness she'd displayed earlier returned.

"Oh, yes, it's just- it's just so cheap that it really doesn't matter," Victoria lied again. "Trust me, it's not worth your time or energy. I don't expect any issues. Just the printout is enough."

"If that's what you'd prefer," the woman said after a moment or two of contemplation. She tore the printed receipt before laying it to the side of the anklet. "We appreciate your business and I hope you- that you enjoy- have a pleasant day!"

Victoria stared at the flustered woman, confused and concerned before realizing that it wasn't her business and it did her no favors to linger after the interactions she had with the employee.

"Thanks! You, too!" Victoria said, snatching the receipt and the gold band. She walked a path straight to the exit with her eyes locked onto the door and her shoulders squared back behind her. The very model of self-assuredness.

Once outside, Victoria exhaled. She relaxed while placing the anklet into her purse with her hand against it. It calmed her but also made her stand up straighter. With her fingers lightly tracing the three symbols on the gold band, she continued her walk home. It soon became uncomfortable to walk with her hand inside her purse so she pulled it free but took the anklet with her to hold clenched in her fist. To keep it safe, she told herself, while caressing it with her thumb.

It took barely five minutes for her to realize something was wrong.

A man, perhaps a year or two younger than her, watched her walk past. She saw him turn his head to follow her with his eyes tracing a path from her face down to her chest and further to her hips and ass. His gaze was palpable. It buffeted her wherever he looked. Silky tendrils stroked her body, gliding beneath her shirt to fondle her breasts and drag down her sides before slipping into her skirt to claw over her ass. And lower, between her thighs to-

She gasped, missing a step. Half a block away he shook himself to look back at his phone.

The absence of his eyes upon her body left her temporarily emotional. Victoria focused inward, trying to understand exactly what it was she felt. The answer shocked her.

Abandoned.

She'd had her share of catcalls and men leering at her, but this was different. His attention had been a physical force that excited her and, now, without it, she felt deserted. Unwanted.

A middle-aged woman, sitting on a bench in front of a coffee shop, clenched her husband's thigh when Victoria passed in front of her. The woman jerked her head to get him to look and they both stared.

Their attention fed her. Victoria smiled while slowing her pace. The excitement she'd felt earlier returned and amplified when a college student glanced up from his laptop to watch her pass. As the others had, he ogled her without subtlety. Victoria threw her head back and her smile widened. She placed her right foot in front of her left and then the left in front of the right, sashaying with exaggerated motions. The older woman's hand slid higher on her husband's thigh to the bulge of his hardening cock while she spread her legs ever so slightly apart.

Victoria sighed. Warmth spread throughout her body. Her nerves hummed in a line from the hand holding the anklet, up to her shoulder and down to her chest before branching into a multi-tined lightning strike that made her shiver. She reached up with her left hand to undo the top button on her shirt. And then the second. And the third. The front of her shirt waved open to show the swell of her breasts over the top of her bra.

The couple's attention wavered at a distance. The seated woman found herself surprised to be stroking her husband's cock through his slacks but she was horny and she turned, biting his ear and whispering about him taking her into the nearby bathroom to fuck her against the wall.

Two men replaced them with one whispering a loud 'Damn' while slapping his friend's chest. Victoria preened herself, dragging her fingers through her hair before bringing her hand down to her shirt, tugging briefly on her bra until a narrow crescent of her areola showed in an extraordinary display of exhibitionism. She smirked and tugged on the bottom of her shirt, pulling it tight against her while lowering her cleavage.

She felt drunk off of the exposure and the looks she gathered from it. Her knuckles grew white as she clenched the anklet, pressing it against her side while basking in the attention. In the past, she withdrew into herself, hiding away like a stone at the bottom of a river. Now she was the current, dragging everyone in her path, swirling them in dizzying circles while she swept past.

Her heart beat quickly beneath her chest. Small bumps pushed against her bra when her nipples grew erect, the flat, pink flesh twisting until they were clearly visible.

Victoria stopped in the middle of the street. Eight pairs of eyes watched as she bent forward. While still holding the anklet tight, she reached for the hem of her skirt to lift it, raising it slowly over her legs until the seat of her panties were nearly visible. Someone groaned. A woman moaned. She let it lie against her ass while reaching forward to fiddle with her shoelaces, as if she'd stopped to fix them and nothing more. And then she straightened.

Energy filled her to the tips of her toes and fingers and ears until she was brimming with it. Her left hand trailed up to her shirt and another button slipped free. Another. A third. The shirt, tucked into her skirt, lay completely open. Wind forced it apart, baring her chest for all to see. Her body felt alive and she ached to be touched. To be caressed. To be kissed. To be taken.

Fantasies filled her as she continued her walk. Fantasies of being bent over a glass table, panties dragged down with a fat cock thrusting into her. Surrounded by people standing, sitting, lounging, watching, talking amongst themselves. Stroking themselves. But always watching. Watching her as she cried out in pleasure until the man walked away and she turned, legs spread to show everyone while masturbating. Gathering a crowd around her. All eyes on her as she lifted her legs with her heels against her chair, plunging fingers within while screaming out from every orgasm.

She stood before her apartment door, inside the multi-level building, without remembering the rest of the walk. Her key scratched the metal plate until she lifted it to press into the hole on the doorknob.

Alone in her apartment, with the door closed and locked behind her, Victoria stared down at her body. Her shirt was untucked and opened. She remembered it happening - remember doing it and enjoying it at the time but it felt like that was a completely <b><i>different</i></b> Victoria.

The strange sense of abandonment returned. Like a lover's affection withdrawn without warning or explanation. She mentally picked at it while untying her shoes and her lips twisted into the hint of a moue while she focused inward. Her open shirt slipped from her shoulders when she shrugged out of it.

Victoria flopped onto her couch, pressing back into it before lifting her feet to lay her heels on the small coffee table.

The anklet rested against her stomach, still clutched in her right hand. She hadn't even realized she was still holding it. It was a comfortable weight when she placed it on her palm, neither too heavy or too light. She ran her thumb over the three symbols yet again and wondered why she hadn't asked the clerk for the meaning. The answer came immediately when she remembered the odd interaction and the way she stood up for herself.

Her hand trembled.

It <i>had</i> been empowering. Thrilling. She'd walked out on a high that increased every time someone noticed her.

Victoria sighed while turning her head and spreading her legs apart. Her hand slipped beneath the elastic band of her skirt, sliding down her smooth belly until she felt the tiny, wrinkled hood covering her clit. She sighed again when her finger felt the sticky wetness covering her labia. Her finger rubbed back and forth against the inner lips.

The inside of her thigh and her entire crotch was coated in her cum, slick and warm. She gasped when she touched herself. In addition to how incredibly wet she was, her body was as sensitive as if she'd already orgasmed several times.

Her eyes focused on the floor-length window in the little area the apartment managed had optimistically sold as a 'breakfast nook.' Too small for anything other than an end table, she'd left it empty. Now she stared through the open curtain at the faint cars in the distance.

People staring at her. Watching her. Enjoying her slim body as she passed. The center of attention for all within eyesight.

"Fuck," Victoria whispered. She exhaled sharply from a small orgasm while sliding her ass forward and spreading her legs wider.

It wasn't the same. Despite how turned on she was at that very moment, it wasn't at all the same.

Victoria pulled her hand away before wiping her fingers on her dress. She walked, entranced, to the tall window set into the recessed wall to stare down at the sidewalk and street below. Her pale reflection looked back at her, a soft reminder of the people watching her earlier.

She lived on the third floor of her building. People rarely looked up and she'd appreciated that in the past, but now, with the anklet clutched to her chest, she wished they would. Like they had earlier. Entranced by her.

"God," she gasped, closing her eyes while placing the tips of her fingers against the glass.

She could do it. It was so <i>clear</i> to her now that she almost laughed. The Victoria in her imagination spoke casually and clearly to Elias. Speaking to him as an equal. Telling him how much she enjoyed working with him and how wonderful he was to her. Polite, understanding and accommodating - all things she looked for in a significant other. Rather than submissively hinting with 'If you'd like to get drinks sometime, I'd be happy to go with you' she would tell him: 'Have drinks with me tonight. I like you and I want to get to know you better.'

Her clothes were a problem, she knew. The skirts were too long and her shirts too conservative.

"I'll stop wearing a bra," she told her reflection and the thought pleased her.

No bra and a few buttons undone. To declare her interest and intent to Elias while also giving customers a show. Going about her business as if nothing was unusual but secretly enjoying their looks. She reached behind her back to her bra strap. The anklet tapped against the fabric. She frowned and pulled her hands around to stare at her right hand. For some reason, she kept forgetting that she still held the thing.

"Well, why not?" she asked herself before bending to touch her right knee to the ground.

Victoria turned the anklet in her hand until the latch faced forward. She slipped it over her leg, above her left ankle. It snapped shut, clicking into place with the slightest touch.

Now she stood and she reached back once more, unhooking her bra. Watching the flow of foot traffic below as she stood in front of the window. Sliding the bra over her shoulders and arms until it hung from the tips of her fingers. Boldly inviting anyone to look as she tipped her hand to drop the bra to the floor.

Her breath quickened. She stood straight, lifting her breasts proudly. Raising her hands to them. Palms against the smooth, warm skin. Sliding around the curves and up to pinch her pink nipples. Moaning quietly. Teasing herself until she was yearning for more.

Fingers into the waistband of her skirt, pulling it away from her hips while pushing down. An imagined lover stripping her in front of the window. For all to see. Her simple white panties were dark between her thighs, soaked from her excitement. She could feel it when she rubbed her legs together, sawing them back and forth until she was able to step out of her skirt.

Now turning. Bending slightly. Thumbs hooked into her panties. Looking over her shoulder. Praying someone would see her as she slowly slowly <b><i>slowly</i></b> slid her panties over her ass. The sticky hot mess tugged gently at her labia and she moaned when she felt the cool air against her bare pussy.

Victoria bent forward, guiding the panties down while her ass raised slightly. Once more she lifted one foot and then the other until she stood completely naked before the window. She gripped her ankles, staring at the gold band wrapped around her left foot while spreading her legs. Her pussy lips opened to show a thin clear sheen of cum.

She imagined a crowd watching her. More in the building opposite, staring through their own windows. Enjoying the show she put on. Masturbating to her.

"God yessss," she hissed, sliding her hands up her legs and between her thighs until her fingers surrounded her pussy lips. She opened them wider before sliding her middle finger inside. Her other hand touched the wall next to her for support when she added her ring finger. Muscles tightened against the two fingers as she slowly thrust them back and forth.

"Look at me," she told the imaginary crowd. Her fingers worked faster and she tensed around them, squeezing them to enjoy the feel of them. She was already close. Already aroused by her earlier performance and still so very sensitive. "I'll cum for you. Watch me. I'll cum for you."

Keratin formed beneath her skin around the band of the anklet, building thin layer upon layer until they pushed through her flesh in thin lines that widened into narrow ovals. The bone-colored lumps grew dark as they hardened and the anklet clinked faintly on the obsidian scutes ringing her lower leg.

The fibrous protein spread, radiating outward from the anklet in a slow progression with a new hardened plate growing nearly every minute. Between them, her pale white skin faded, color draining to gray.

Victoria's fingers made wet squelching sounds as she pounded them deep inside. Whining and moaning as her orgasm neared. It was monstrous, built upon the foundations of her exhibitionism and the imaginary crowd watching her. They took pictures, they unzipped themselves to grab their cocks or play with their clits, they recorded videos of her, they moaned out her name while begging for more and she responded, screaming out from the orgasm that exploded within. Her legs grew weak, forcing her down to her knees.

The clasp locking her anklet melted away, fusing with the golden band to leave it in one unbroken piece. It slid against the smooth, hardened scutes covering her lower leg before catching against her skin.

She held herself up with her left hand while her right lay trapped between her trembling thighs. The girl swallowed and moaned and leaned against the wall next to her, short red hair cushioning her head.

<i>No panties,</i> she told herself, picturing herself at work with customers wandering around. Walking between them to help. Bending to retrieve something. Her shortened skirt pulling high to reveal bare legs and the hint of more. Sitting to masturbate quietly. They'd be drawn to her, forgetting what they came for as they crowded her desk. She'd push back, raising her legs in front of them while rubbing herself.

With a low, needy groan, Victoria's fingers pressed between her slick, swollen lips. She sighed, exhaling with a long breath as she began again. A hole opened over the top of her right foot, spreading to allow keratin through in order to create a new scute. Another grew higher, closer to her ankle. She pushed back, ass bouncing against her heels while the joints of her big toes clicked in a rhythm to match. When she shoved down, they separated from her foot to angle inward.

A hard, thumping knock at her door interrupted her. Victoria jerked, startled from her reverie just as Elias, in her imagination, was stripping out of his clothes in front of the customers as work.

She stood, swaying on unstead feet with her large toes pointing further inward. Dense layers grew over her toenails and each was darker than the last until the black tips were forced forward, curling to tick-tack-tick against the floor until she reached the door. Faint white scratch marks marred the wooden flooring where she'd stepped.

More pounding shook the door on its hinges when she stood before it. She hesitated, suddenly frightened by the ferocity of the knocking.

"One moment," she called out.

Victoria stood on her tiptoes. Her claws gouged the floor beneath her. The locked door swung open, forcing her to squawk and stumble backwards.

A squat, wide man dressed in an open Hawaiian shirt and white slacks stepped into the apartment. Victoria stared at him before looking over, and up, to the tall woman following behind him. She was dressed in a classic business suit with an immaculately knotted black tie and black jacket.

"You can't just-!" Victoria started to say but they ignored her.

"Is it her?" the other woman asked.

"Oh yeah, hundred percent," the man replied. He held a stick in his hand with an emerald crystal attached to the end. It glowed with a weak, pulsing light in front of Victoria.

"Who are you people?" Victoria asked, stepping further backwards. The way they both ignored her was almost as terrifying as the fact that they'd just walked into her locked apartment without warning.

"She's not a sorceress, that's clear," the other woman said, watching the crystal for a moment before closing the door behind her. "I don't think I've ever seen such a low affinity."

"Most of it's coming from that bauble she's wearing," he told her.

"Damn," the woman said.

The tall woman took a long step forward before kneeling. Victoria tried to get away from her but the woman grabbed her left leg with a surprisingly strong grip to keep her in place.

"Nah, you don't even need to check," the man told her. "I can see from here that it's too late."

"What's too late? What are you talking about? Tell me who you are!" Victoria demanded, struggling in the woman's hand.

Skin tightened around Victoria's breasts while fat melted away. The pendulous curves flaring out to the sides of her chest vanished as they pulled inward, shrinking until they lay completely within the frame of her body.

"Pisces, gold, and air," the woman said, tracing the symbols on the anklet around Victoria's left leg. "We <b><i>are</i></b> too late. What do you suppose? Raven? Gavin? Oh, Gavin, for fuck's sake. Concentrate."

"Hmm?" The man asked while staring down at Victoria with his hand against his crotch. He blinked rapidly, shrugged and scratched at the stubble on his cheeks. "Woof. That's a strong one, Maddie."

"She picked it for a reason," Maddie muttered. "Bonded tightly to her. We'll have to bring her in. No wipe will work here."

"Let me go!" Victoria yelled, pulling hard. Her taut ass jiggled slightly while stretching around muscle and fat growing beneath. She pulled again but the other woman let go and Victoria fell backwards onto her padded ass. Bones creaked within her hips. They flexed open, pushing against her waist until her slim figure widened into gentle curves. Strands of muscle multiplied beneath her thighs, accentuating her new curves.

"How were you able to buy this?" Maddie asked, staring down at Victoria's prone, naked body.

Victoria stared defiantly back up at the woman with her arms down at her sides. Her big toes tapped against the floor in front of her, cracking scutes and curved black claws against the wood. They were nearly horizontal now - still moving and independent of the rest of the toes.

"I asked you a question, <b><i>girl,</i></b>" Maddie growled. She twisted a ring on her right hand while pressing her thumb into the amber stone inlaid within.

A peculiar sensation bloomed inside of Victoria's skull. Tentacles lanced out, latching onto the various systems inside her brain. There was a feeling of pressure and <i>otherness</i> that made her feel sick.

"I- I- I- don't- don't-" she chattered before groaning.

"Is she resisting it? That's impressive," Gavin said, standing on his toes to look over Maddie's shoulder.

"I d- don't know what you muh- mean," Victoria said. The words were forced from her as if she were a puppet made to speak. "I just buh- bought it. From the store. By the smoothie store. Wuh- What- what are you doing to me?"

"Go easy on her before her brains leak out," Gavin said while placing a careful hand against Maddie's upper arm.

Maddie shook him off but relented and Victoria collapsed, falling to her back. He gasped for air while staring at the ceiling and waiting for the vertigo to pass.

"I don't understand," Maddie said. Her foot tapped against the floor. "Elias is smarter than this. He'd have the proper protections in place. We'll need to petition the council to interrogate him after we tear his shop apart."

"I think you mean," Gavin said while scratching his cheek once more. "I think you mean we'll beg the council for the privilege to inspect Elias' shop while he supervises us and then hope that he allows us to politely ask him a few questions, Mads."

"Elias... didn't... anything," Victoria groaned. "Leave... alone..."

The pair turned to look down at her. Gavin clucked and shook his head when he watched Victoria's innermost toes pop and angle downward. As they'd rotated, they slid along her feet until they jutted from the base of her heels. The nearly white skin on her soles lost their coloring when her scutes consumed the top of her feet.

She jerked when her feet jumped and her toes popped. Tendons and muscle pulled the small bones apart, stretching them until her toes curled into fists with her dark claws bent to press into her gray forefeet. Her legs trembled. The clenched toes slid apart while her feet widened. She gasped, opening her toes while slamming her heels into the ground.

Victoria yelped when her big toes, resting against the back of her feet, hit the ground. They curled and the other toes followed suit until all five were rolled inward.

"I think raven," Maddie said while watching the spectacle.

"Nah. Something showy," Gavin said. "Peacock, maybe?"

"Bet?" Maddie asked.

"Yeah, I'll take that," came the reply.

Bone deep pain brought lancing agony that shot up into Victoria's legs. She shoved her legs out, opening her toes while stretching as much as possible. Flesh grew between her little toes and the neighboring toes, sealing them together into one large mass while her arches elongated, forcing her toes further away. The tendons pushed against her flesh until the gray skin swelled to accommodate them. The pain faded slowly, allowing her to rest her feet against the floor.

"Let's get her up," Gavin said. "We'll need to get her into holding before the auction tonight. Chris and Tanya found five others, all together in one place. Bunch of dumb college girls found a book in one of Lester's old hideouts. Remember <b><i>that</i></b> asshole? Figured they'd get day drunk and play at magic a bit."

Gavin reached down to slide his hands under Victoria. She tried to resist but the room spun. He lifted and held his arm around her, carefully placed well beneath her breath.

"Sorry, girl," Gavin said quietly while walking her towards the door. "One of the girls - a rhinoceros. Can you believe it? And <b><i>not</i></b> happy about it. Took two whole other teams to knock her out. That one's got some heavy lifting in her future."

"Where. Are you taking. Me?" Victoria asked.

"Auction house," Maddie told her after opening the apartment door. "For better or worse, you've got a new life ahead of you. Someone will come for your things eventually."

The world righted itself when they reached the stairs down.

"Help!" Victoria screamed while pounding on Gavin's back and chest. He held her tight despite the onslaught. "Somebody help me! I'm being kidnapped."

"Damn birds always get their bearings back too fast," the man grunted. "Their metabolism and that whatever- inner ear thing for flight or something. That's what I think."

"You want me to bind her?" Maddie asked as they walked down the stairs.

"Nah, she's good," he said. "Don't want to rough her up more than necessary, poor thing. And, you know, doesn't really hurt. Light as a feather and all that. Just like a peacock should be. It's good magic."

"Raven," Maddie told him.

"Help, please! Why- why won't anyone help me!" Victoria screamed again when they reached the street.

People walked along the sidewalk, talking with their companions or loved ones, browsing their phones, or just enjoying the scenery as they traveled around town. All of them made a wide path around the trio.

"Lady- you- you with the dog, please! Why- why won't they-"

"You're going mad, that's why, and all of this is just a psychotic break," Maddie told her.

"Aww, that's just mean, come on, Mads," Gavin said. "Look, girl. It's magic. I don't know what else you expected, honestly. We're walking you out in public, naked as the day you were born, during the daytime without gagging you and you think, what, you think nobody will say a word? The world's not that dire yet, sweetheart. Somebody would come to your rescue if they could see you, you can bet on that. You're gonna need to start using your head a lot more from now on. You're in a whole new world with all kinds of strange rules."

"Please," Victoria begged. "I didn't do anything wrong. Please just- just don't hurt me. I don't have a lot of money but-"

"Here we are, then," Gavin told her as they stood before a plain white van.

Maddie pulled the handle on the side door, sliding it open to reveal a padded interior. Gavin gently lay Victoria down inside. She sat up but he held up a single finger.

"Stay," he told her. And she did. Frozen in place by the command until Maddie slammed the door closed.

"You always do that too hard," Gavin huffed, his voice muffled by the sound proofing inside the van.

"Get off my ass," Maddie told him.

Gavin replied but their voices faded. Victoria strained to hear them speaking but she heard nothing until the driver and passenger doors shut with a quiet 'thump.' She squawked when the van began to move, throwing her off balance temporarily.

Victoria scratched her arms while looking around the inside of the van. Her knees were bent before her with her legs to the side and her feet out of sight. There was nothing in the van. Both the back and the dividing window were blacked out and every surface was covered in a plush white cushion.

Her nails raked down her upper arms and then down to her forearms. They were crossed under her smaller breasts and she found herself rubbing her arms against her body while scratching as deep as she could.

Tiny cavities opened in her arms. Flesh was forced aside to make space for the tubular sockets while cells divided and multiplied at a frantic pace. Victoria groaned while scratching the insane itching sensations they caused and, in return, she found pleasure in it. Her nails dragged down her skin hard enough to leave hard marks.

A hardened shaft bumped against her left finger. Victoria held out her right arm to watch, with wide eyes, as the follicles opened. Thin, spiny white shafts forced the holes to widen as they slipped through her skin to emerge.

She screamed while waving her arms and the papillae moved in rippling waves against her body. They felt like strange painless daggers jabbing into her, solidifying in place within their follicles. She winced as she watched them grow, expecting agony where none existed.

The strange shafts were short over the top of her arms but they elongated to absurd lengths along her biceps and inside of her arm. Victoria kicked back, as if she could escape from them and only then did she notice her massive, clawed feet. She shrieked, flapping her arms in fear until the bones creaked.

Her skin was stretching over her arms. She turned, knocking her hands against the divider between the cargo area and the front of the van. Her proprioception was wildly out of place, screaming at her that her hands weren't where they should be. She raised her arms carefully to stare at her fingers. Her brain tried to reconcile how far away they were from her body but it shelved the issue when she realized how stiff her fingers were.

"Come on, come on," Victoria groaned as she tried to spread her fingers apart. They twitched feebly but barely moved. "I can- I can do this."

The tips of her fingers curled but the effort exhausted her and they opened flat to create her alula. Holes opened in the formless mass of flesh consuming her fingers. More papillae, thin and short, pierced the skin until her arms were completely covered in milky white quill-like structures. They weighed against her and the stress of the situation wore her out until she lay her arms against her legs. The shafts settled against the padded flooring around her.

Her thumbs flexed. They were separate from her now-shapeless hands and she could still move them. But the joints were radiated with a throbbing ache that made her grind her teeth. She hissed, breathing through her nose when the thumbs popped. The first joint swelled when the base of her nails pushed into the flesh beneath, keratin growing around the bone to lock it in place. Once anchored, her thumbnails grew thick, white fading to gray and darkening further to black until they were an inch thick and curving away into cruel, sharp tips.

Tiny gray scutes emerged around her elongated thumbs. They spread over the swollen flesh until all she could see was the strange pebble-like plating and obsidian claw. Still, it bent when she flexed it and she was grateful for that, at least.

Victoria stretched her arms and was shocked when she realized she could easily reach far past her feet without bending her upper body. It was difficult to judge their length but she thought they were perhaps four feet long to the tips of the claws on her thumbs.

"Tsssss," she hissed, rolling her head. She reached up to her neck by reflex but her strange alula and thumbs slammed into the roof of the van. The girl shivered while flexing her shoulders. The thin shafts covering them waved back and forth. Something crawled beneath her scalp. She bent her arms, folding them until she could press her thumbs carefully into her neck. Her claws dragged through papillae emerging from beneath her short hair. They spread from behind one ear, down over her neck and up to her other ear, spearing through the tips of her bob haircut until the sharp tips scratched against her back.

"What- what did you do to me," she groaned.

Nerves wound around her spine, forcing her forward. She shoved her arms against the ground and her claws tore through the padding. Although she tried to hold it back, Victoria moaned, loudly, when the nerves connected to her tailbone and it <b><i>pushed,</i></b> shoving into her lower back to stretch the surrounding flesh. It was- a unique feeling that left her trembling despite the situation.

The skin beneath the base of her expanding tail rubbed against her round ass cheeks. She groaned and spread her legs while arching her back. Spherical sockets opened within the lump of her tail - digging, itching, clawing, scratching microscopic fingers that made her moan loudly. Papillae <b><i>erupted</i></b> throughout her tail and it twitched in response, startling her when she felt the muscles moving in her own body. She focused and tweaked them as an experiment and the tail lifted before slapping back down against her ass hard enough that she yelped. Other muscles flexed and the tail spread, pushing against the edges of the flesh surrounding them.

Victoria looked over her shoulders. She was panting and blushing, the red rising easily to her pale face until they matched the color of the freckles covering her nose and cheeks. With her tail down, the three foot long shafts covering it brushed against the floor. That forced the roots of the papillae to move in their follicles and she moaned again, turning back around while bowing her head. Her clawed feet clenched, thick toes rolling inward until the tips pressed into the thick gray flesh of her elongated feet.

The brief moment of respite lulled her into a momentary calm that was shattered when pleasurable little prickling pins pierced her smooth mons. Victoria cried out and her tail fluttered behind her, lifting and drooping before lifting once more. She moaned, sitting back on her tail to stare down at her smooth, firm belly.

Thread-like white papillae forced themselves through the skin over her mound. She stared at the strange wiry little hairs as they lengthened. They lay back against her body when they finished growing but continued to spread over her crotch.

Victoria reached for the delicate shafts with her right hand. The air stirred within the back of the van from the motion of the papillae hanging from the bottom of her arm. It took her three tries to find the right way to bend the elongated appendage before she could bring her thumb down to her belly. She carefully dragged the dense, hooked claw through the soft strands.

"Oh! Ohhhh," she groaned while pressing her thighs together. More papillae pierced her outer labia. She rubbed her legs together and breathed through her nose in an effort to counter the enjoyable sensation.

The van rattled. Victoria bounced against the floor until she reached her arms out to steady herself. With a loud metallic screech, her talons tore into the padding and the metal beneath. She stared from one outstretched arm to the other in amazement until she tried to tug them free.

"Shit. Oh, shit," she muttered. Her thin arms strained but the claws held tight until she remembered she could still move her thumbs. They wiggled as she concentrated and she shuddered at the sound of metal scratching against the dense black talons.

In the ensuing silence, she waited for everything to continue. There was no mirror so she feared the worst, especially without the ability to touch herself and explore her body properly. Her unwieldy arms and oversized thumbs were nearly useless.

<i>Did anything happen to my face?</i> she wondered while thinking back through the past ten minutes. <i>Has it only been that long?</i>

The van slowed. Without the distractions of her changing body, panic began to set in. While the woman - Maddie, she remembered, terrified her, neither had hurt her. But she just now recalled one of them mentioning an auction and a new life.

She had to do something.

Doors thumped at the edge of her hearing. She turned as well as she could in the cramped space until she was facing the side of the van. Her heart raced until she thought she'd burst. It felt incredibly fast to her - an almost continuous dit-dit-dit-dit rather than a steady beat.

The handle lifted. The door slid on its wheels to show bright light that left Victoria momentarily blinded.

"Jesus Christ, look at you," Gavin said.

"Hey, show some fucking respect to the man. You know what-" Maddie started to say.

Victoria lashed out with her left hand while her right anchored her to the van. The hooked talon tipping her thumb ripped through metal on the side of the door when she misjudged the distance but it continued. Gavin jumped sideways while opening his mouth to curse while Maddie tracked the movement, turning her head to watch as it sliced through her upper arm. The woman was flung to the side, spinning through the air with a shrill scream.

"STOP!" Gavin yelled. His voice had an unnatural depth to it. Power.

Victoria froze mid-strike.

"Fuck! FUCK! She almost tore my goddamn arm off! Ow, fuck, I'm bleeding out!" Maddie screamed, kicking as she forced herself up. Her right arm dangled by her side. "Awww, fuck, the bitch broke bone. I can see my fucking bones!"

"Patch yourself up, dammit!" Gavin told her before turning back to Victoria. "Well, girl, that honestly surprised me. I didn't think you had it in you and I hope you don't have any more of that in you, either. Neither of us want to hurt you but we'll get you where you have to be by whatever force is necessary."

Victoria's green eyes blazed in the sunlight while her body trembled in the grasp of the spell holding her in place. They flicked over to watch Maddie. The other woman held her left hand up to her right arm. Bright blue light emanated from her palm and she moaned. Sweat poured from her brow.

"You got us good, that's no lie," Gavin continued. "I don't blame you, honestly. In fact, I'm impressed. Most just fold up and cry. But, here's the thing - you <b><i>want</i></b> us to keep being nice to you. You got your hit. That's a free one. Please don't try again. You don't want to see what we're truly capable of. Let's make the rest of this easy on all involved. Deal?"

Victoria glared as best she could within the constraints surrounding her. Finally, her head dipped fractionally.

"Good, that's good," Gavin said. Once more he turned to look over his shoulder. "You okay, Mads?"

"Fucking bitch got me," the woman groaned. She worked her right arm in an arc before standing up.

"I know, but we've come to an understanding," Gavin told her. "I'll walk her out while you stay behind. Just in case."

"She's lucky you're here," Maddie said darkly.

"I know and I'm pretty sure <b><i>she</i></b> knows that, too," Gavin said. He reached out his hand. "Come on, then."

When the man's fingers touched the end of her arm, the spell broke. She clenched his hand with her thumb, wrapping the bulbous digit around three of his thick fingers with her talon touching his palm. A not-so-subtle warning. Maddie took several steps back while Victoria slid from the van.

"Careful there," Gavin told her.

Victoria's toes cracked against the pavement. She wobbled, dipping down in a reflexive move to stand on her feet until Gavin lifted her up to her toes.

"You'll get it. Just takes time. Think of it like walking on your tiptoes," he said.

She stared down at her legs, at the mottled gray texture and the shining black scutes. Her toes, three forward on each foot and one facing backward, were <b><i>huge.</i></b> She raised her foot and her toes folded inward to point down. Victoria held it there, forcing the toes to open before relaxing and letting them fold together once more. The two forward toes on the side of her foot spread to the side to help stabilize her. Her tail fanned the air with sharp, precise movements when she set her foot back down. The toes opened once more, scraping talons against concrete as she took a step. Her left foot raised in the same way until she placed it down to stand on the solid tips of her eight toes.

"That's a girl, you've got it," Gavin said.

"Fuck you," Victoria told him while taking another step. She hated that it was beginning to feel natural. Her knees bent slightly when she pressed her foot down while her elongated foot flexed back on her heel.

"I know, I know," Gavin said. He took his hand away when she continued to walk but he followed by her side.

Victoria looked up to see a huge, three story brick building in front of her. The area appeared to be industrial but it was too clean and the air was surprisingly fresh. A gust of wind swirled over her, pulling at the shafts dangling from her arms while ruffling the smaller ones covering her shoulders. Her tail twisted and lifted behind her but she ignored it while moving forward until they reached a simple, unadorned door

Gavin reached for the handle but she shoved him aside. Waves of heat assaulted her from behind.

"Do it, fucking do it," Maddie begged. "Give me a reason to burn you."

"Mads..." Gavin sighed.

"I want to open the door," Victoria told him. "That's all."

She hated what her body had become, the strange bristly strings dangling over her like garish wind chimes. Even without a mirror she could see how hideous she was. Her feet were deformed and her arms were gangly abominations.

Still, it was her body. Determination, fueled by self-confidence, filled her. She refused to pity herself or give in to despair.

The wind buffeted her arms until they flailed around her but she pulled her right arm forward, scraping against the door until her talon hooked into the handle. She gripped it with her thumb and pushed. It snapped and something rattled within and she could see a deep arching gouge from her claw but the door opened when she pulled.

"After you," Victoria said with a feral grin.

"Ah, no," Gavin told her, holding the door while gesturing for her to go.

Victoria walked into the cool building. Maddie followed and Gavin closed the door behind them before slipping past the woman to walk beside Victoria. She was led to another door, which Gavin opened, and then inside into a simple room with a desk, a few chairs on a standing mirror.

"They'll call for you," Gavin told her.

"I hope they're-" Maddie started to say until Gavin took her arm. She hissed, snatching it away while swaying.

"Come on, now, that's not going to be helpful," he interrupted. "Let's have medical take a look. Gotta be bad if you couldn't fix it up all the way."

At the door, he stopped and turned to her. He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again.

"I'm sorry, kid," he said. "But, there's not much of a choice. Good luck."

The door closed, leaving Victoria alone once more.

Warm air surrounded her. She shivered briefly and goosebumps rose over her body. The mirror was set in the corner, angled towards the ceiling.

"Oh well, let's get this over with," she told herself.

Victoria lurched forward. Her arms spread automatically until she pulled them back to rest against her side. When she stood before the mirror, she reached out her right arm to tap her talon against the bottom, tilting it until she could see her body.

"Oh," she said.

The black claws on her feet raised briefly before clicking against the floor. She forced her head down to stare at the ashen colored skin and obsidian scutes covering her toes and shins. With a quick glance, she looked up to her face and breathed out a sigh of relief to see it unchanged. White shafts dangled from beneath the tips of her short red hair.

It was the larger, heavy rachis dangling from her arms and covering her shoulders that were the worst of it. She reached her arm around until she was able to awkwardly grab one with her thumb but, when giving it a careful tug, she released it immediately with a sharp hiss of pain.

There were countless strands covering her arms. Her tail moved, reminding her of its existence and she turned to stare at the wide lump. The skin was completely hidden beneath shafts that matched the ones on her arms, dangling to brush against the backs of her thighs and the shiny black plates covering her calves.

Turning back, she stared at her chest, cocking her head and squinting before reaching for her breasts. She didn't notice how much easier it was becoming to manipulate her arms as she pressed both talons against the bottom of her breasts to push against the soft skin.

"They <b><i>are</i></b> smaller," she said with a sigh. "They- they-"

A hint of color appeared in a single shaft attached to the middle of her right arm. She raised her arm to stare closely at it. The previously white coloring had darkened and now she noticed the ones surrounding them had also changed. Her head jerked back when the shaft pulled apart to reveal dark mahogany coloring within.

Long barbs stretched and strained over the central shaft of the single feather. Her breath caught when she realized what it was. The vane opened from the base to the tip as it dried and the color lightened. Her breath ruffled the feather, pushing against it until it swayed back against the neighboring shafts. More feathers began to open with quick, soundless little pops of movement.

They shimmered in the overhead lighting as if covered in microscopic glitter that caught and reflected the lights from an infinite number of facets.

The mirror reflected shades of blue. She glanced up to stare at the back of her wings to see more feathers opening. Layers upon layers of them in a brilliant lapis coloring that perfectly contrasted against the crimson feathers inside.

"Oh. Oh! Holy shit!" she gasped.

Victoria raised herself up to her claws and spun, spreading her arms wide. She could hear the wind rippling over them as they separated and settled into place. Her tail bounced against her bare ass and she squawked when she felt the tickling sensation of her tail feathers. They <b><i>streamed</i></b> behind her with short blue feathers overlapped by red feathers longer than the ones covering her wings.

She pumped her arms. Dust whirled away from her and the mirror squeaked backwards on small wheels when a gust of wind pushed against it.

"Holy shit!" Victoria squealed, repeating herself in excitement. She flapped her arms again and it lifted briefly into the air, five feet from the ground with her wings brushing against the ceiling. Her toes folded beneath her until she fell and they opened to catch her.

Back on the ground, panting with her heart racing, she gripped the mirror with her thumbs to steady it. Jade green feathers rippled open over her shoulders. She giggled and shivered but watched closely as the small vines spread apart. As they dried, they lightened into mossy coloring.

"If only I had a hair dryer," she told her reflection while staring at the opened feathers beneath her hair.

The door opened at the back of the room. She screamed when she heard a man cough loudly and her wings closed around her, thumbs hooking against each other just beneath her throat. The cloak of her wings hid her body completely while her tail feather flexed down to hide her ass and legs.

"We're ready for you," the man said.

"Who's ready for me? <b><i>What's</i></b> ready for me?" she demanded but he simply stood by the door waiting for her.

"Goddamn all of you," she growled at him.

She stalked over to him, purposefully slamming her toes into the ground while curling them to tear at the carpet beneath her, ripping it apart every time she lifted her foot. The man appeared not to care or notice but his eyes were hidden beneath sunglasses so she couldn't say for certain.

Her feathers rippled when the air conditioning blasted cool air against her body. They blocked it completely and she smiled before realizing <i>what</i> she was smiling about. The hallway was clean and empty with closed doors branching off to either side at random intervals. The man ignored all of them until he reached curtains at the end of the hallway. He stopped and pulled them aside to reveal a darkened area beyond.

Victoria pushed the curtains further apart with her talons when she entered. Steps led to a round stage that was bisected by gigantic velvet curtains. There was nothing else. She swallowed and walked to the stairs, hesitating briefly before stepping up. Her claws gouged the wood while the back toe curled to grip the lip of the stair. The wood cracked when she lifted her foot to step up to the next one and her tail feathers wiggled briefly back and forth as her anxiety began to rise.

Utter silence greeted her as she walked to the center of the stage. She swallowed and rubbed her thumbs together beneath her throat. Sweat rolled down her chest.

The curtains opened. Victoria raised her left wing to shield her eyes from the glaring overhead stage lights. She squinted until she could bear how bright they were and her wing settled back against her body.

Voices murmured before her.

"Who's there?" she called out with a shaking voice.

Dark shapes filled seats before the stage.

"Gorgeous," a man said. "Absolutely gorgeous."

"She's stunning," a woman gasped. "Look at her coloring!"

Their compliments stroked her ego. She squirmed under the attention, swinging her head from one shape to the next when she heard them speak.

Eyes on her body. She felt herself growing warm under their attention. Her talons dragged lightly against her chest while her tail lifted and the feathers spread, causing an explosion of appreciative muttering.

Victoria licked her lips.

Her wings unfolded, brilliant scarlet backed by lapis as she raised them high.

"Such a trim body, no wonder she was drawn to it," another voice said quietly. "How old was she again?"

She felt dazed beneath the lights, torn between exposing herself and hiding herself away. The attention was intoxicating. Every compliment fanned the flames of her self-confidence until it took all of her fading willpower not to turn around and lift her tail with her legs spread.

Instead, Victoria spun, as she had in the waiting room. Spreading her wings wide to twirl on the tip of her clenched toes. Lifting one wing and then the other in a wave as she spun until she shoved her toes down, cracking through the dark wood below to catch herself. Anchored to the ground, she raised her wings and flapped. The gust of wind spilled drinks and toppled empty chairs, much to the amusement of those involved. A few clapped and called out and she grinned in return.

They were all watching her. Loving her. <b><i>Wanting</i></b> her.

"I'll now start the bidding," a sedate voice said from the side of the stage.

"Bidding?" Victoria asked between breaths.

"One hundred thousand!" a woman's voice yelled out.

Others followed, slowly increasing the amounts. Victoria's thrill began to fade as she realized what was happening.

"Wait," she said. "Just, wait. You can't do this."

"Two hundred and twenty-five thousand!" a man yelled.

As her eyes adjusted to the lights, she began to make out faces. Nearly a hundred people were seated before her, spread out within the enormous chamber facing the stage.

Beautiful Question Mark sat off to the side. Watching her expressionlessly.

"You- you! I know you!" she said, staring at him. They lifted their chin but made no other response.

A woman was standing, bending over next to another patron. Maddie. Victoria's mouth opened but she snapped it shut. And then her eyes grew wide.

Elias sat in front of her with Maddie whispering in his ear.

"Elias! Please! You have to help me!" Victoria called out.

"Three hundred and thirty thousand," an old man said from the back. He laughed while stroking his oiled mustache.

"-to me first!" Elias' angry voice carried through the rustling of the crowd.

Maddie glanced at the stage but continued to whisper until Elias wavered her away. When she didn't move, he turned slowly to glare at her. She stood straight, wobbling briefly like a flicked spring before taking a step back. When she left, she walked quickly without a backwards glance.

"Three hun-"

"Five hundred and fifty-thousand dollars," Elias said loudly while staring at Victoria. "<b><i>Final.</i></b>"

The room grew quiet. A few people coughed while another exited the room.

"Sold," the man said from the side of the stage.

Elias stood. He grabbed his long coat, tweaked his tie and walked to the back of the room.

"Wait! Elias, wait!" Victoria called out.

A large man approached from her left. He touched her back, between her shoulder blades but she shrugged away from him.

"Get away from- I want to see Elias!" Victoria yelled, folding her wings around her body once more.

"And we'll take you to him," the man told her slowly, as if she were a slow-witted child. "Just follow me."

She stared at him for a few seconds before doing as he said. He turned to guide her down another set of stairs. Instead of walking down, she jumped. Her wings opened and she landed softly on her toes. The man waited for her but continued when she followed once more. He opened a door for her and she brushed past him to stand in the hallway.

"A peacock! What'd I say, Mads! A peacock!" he yelled while jabbing the woman next to her. They both sat back against the opposite wall.

"Female peacocks are brown, idiot," Maddie told him while massaging her arm. "Look it up."

"Oh, I will, I will," he told her. "And then you'll treat me to dinner after work."

<i>Don't do it,</i> Victoria told herself. <i>Don't. Don't say-</i>

"How's your arm?" Victoria asked Maddie. She clenched her jaw while stare at the other woman and Gavin whistled.

"Alright, I think we've had our fun," Gavin said. "Come on, Mads. No rest for the wicked."

"Bitch," Maddie spat.

The patiently waiting guide continued when Victoria walked away. He opened broad double doors and she squawked when sunlight assaulted her once more. Her wing immediately raised to block the light again while she blinked rapidly to adjust.

When she lowered her wing, Elias stood before her, leaning back against the door of a limousine. Alone.

"Oh god! Oh, thank god!" Victoria cried. She ran to him, as quickly as her changed feet would allow but he met her away from the car with a hand against her chest when her wings opened to wrap around him in a hug.

"Be careful, please," he told her.

"Oh, s- sorry, sorry," she said, stepping back. Her thumbs hooked together beneath her throat but the thumbs rubbed back and forth anxiously, scutes scratching loudly. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened or who these people are or or or or-"

"I owe you an explanation," he told her, turning to walk back to the car to open the door.

"Can we start with why you have a limousine?" she asked as he slipped inside. "I had no idea! I thought you were just an extremely handsome gardener with his own store!"

She hesitated before the car. As carefully as she could, she reached her wings forward to grip the roof. She raised her foot, bending the back toe to grip onto the floor, wincing and relaxing when metal crunched. With even more caution, she pulled herself inside. The car rocked until she slid into a seat opposite Elias.

"Is it rented?" she asked him. Her wings lay against her lap with her talons nestled just beneath her breasts.

"No, it's one of mine," he told her.

"<b><i>One</i></b> of yours? Wow," she said, glancing around. "I've never been inside of one. I almost did at prom, but my date-"

Victoria rubbed the bridge of her nose with the side of her talon, hiding her face and chest with a brilliant wing. She turned back around to face Elias with a shy smile. Her talons nudged her breasts, lifting them before letting them drop down. The slick black claws slid over the skin until they rubbed against her nipples.

Forced to sit on the edge of the seat due to her tail, she leaned back while spreading her legs. Elias watched the display impassively and she studied him in return, trying to work out what to say while her body responded automatically. She'd never been so close to him for such a long period of time. She gasped when the very tip of her talon pressed into her nipple and only then did she realize what she was doing. Her face burned while she settled her wings back against her body. And still, her knees spread slightly further apart.

"Did they mistreat you?" Elias asked suddenly.

"Oh! No," she said. "The one woman, Maddie, she acted rough but the other, Gavin, was nice."

He nodded as if he already knew the answer. She suspected that was the case, however.

"<b><i>I</i></b> hurt Maddie, though," Victoria confessed. "When they were letting me out of their van."

"I know," he told her. "She'll be lucky if that's the only thing she suffers from this whole fiasco."

His voice soothed her and, despite everything that was happening, he appeared unflappable. His presence and attitude bolstered her. And left her flustered. She'd had fantasies like this. Alone with him. Her breasts lifted when she sat straight and her thumbs slid down her body to her thighs, talons pressing into them to spread her legs further apart.

Wild fantasies where his passion overwhelmed his cool demeanor. While she'd never imagined a limousine, the back of the office was always a favorite. Calling her into the back for help but giving into his lust to fondle her and strip her until she was riding him on a convenient, comfortable couch. Hands against his shoulders while her ass slapped down against his thighs and her tits bounced in his face.

<i>Well, they won't be bouncing so much anymore,</i> she thought to herself. Her right wing raised while her talon dragged against her body until her thumb toyed with the nipple once again. The sensation of hardened scutes against soft skin and her erect, throbbing nipple made her gasp.

And once more she realized what she was doing. She coughed, turning her head while crossing her wings over her body.

"It's difficult, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, shortly.

They rode in silence the rest of the way with Victoria exerting every ounce of control she could muster. She had to keep herself in constant check as she could feel herself slipping whenever her fantasies distracted her. After a few minutes, she slid forward further until her pussy wasn't touching the seat. She prayed to any god who would listen that she wouldn't make a mess in his fancy car.

When the car pulled to the curb, Elias opened the door to step onto the sidewalk. He held the door open while waiting for her to exit and she did, slowly unfolding herself as carefully as she could to stand next to him.

Wind ruffled her feathers, pushing against her even as she kept them folded around her.

"They can't see me, can they?" she asked while staring at the early evening crowds.

"No, not with me here," Elias told her. He closed the door before sweeping past her to unlock the door to the plant nursery. Once more he held it open for her and she smiled at him while walking inside.

WIth his coat over his arm, he walked with her to the back. She subconsciously cringed, expecting the resistance she'd felt earlier but none assaulted her as he unlocked his office and, again, held the door for her.

"Thank you," she told him this time. Her wing brushed against his body as she made her way into the spacious office. "Hah! There <b><i>is</i></b> a couch back here!"

"Pardon?" Elias asked when he entered. He closed the door behind both of them.

"Oh, nothing, I just- I haven't really been in here before," she said sheepishly.

"I'm aware, yes, by design," he told her. "Come, sit. Would you like a drink?"

"You know, yes, I think I could use one at this point," she told him while sitting on the edge of the couch.

"What would you like?" he asked her.

"Whatever's convenient," she replied.

Glasses clinked. She watched him take a rectangular glass bottle, filled with dark brown liquid, from a cupboard. The cork squeaked before popping quietly and he poured, a small measure for both of them. Once finished, he brought it over to her and sat, facing her from the edge of the couch to her left. Nearly a foot of space separated their knees. Victoria forced herself to relax when fantasies tumbled through her imagination.

"So," he said, swirling his drink.

"So," she agreed, sticking her tongue out between her lips while reaching her wing out. Her glass had a wide handle that she slipped her claw into. The scarlet feathers mixed in with her hair trembled when she concentrated, gripping carefully and lifting. "It's like in those science fiction movies with the scientists manipulating robot arms."

The glass touched her lips. Elias watched her closely, staring at her small, pert nose and the freckles covering them. At her green eyes when she squinted in concentration.

"Haaaaaaaah, dang!" she hissed after taking a sip. Her arm moved slowly. She followed its path as she gently set the glass down on the table in front of the couch. "That's strong stuff."

"For my best clients," he told her.

"Well, I really appreciate it. I've never really had-"

"You're avoiding the subject," he told her.

"No, I'm just enjoying the moment," she answered. The ease at which she answered surprised her on one level. She tried to use the alcohol as an excuse but she simply felt at ease. "I'm worried that it'll pass and you'll go away and I'll be alone. I want to enjoy every moment of it while it lasts."

He tilted his head slightly to watch her while she pushed the glass around with her talon.

"Do you not want it to last?" he asked her.

"Do I have a choice?" she replied, looking up at him. Their eyes met and her distracted smile faded.

"Before that, you haven't asked a single question about your condition or the situation surrounding it," he told her. She thought she heard a note of exasperation but she doubted herself. It <b><i>was</i></b> Elias, after all.

"Gavin told me to use my head," she said. Her left talon raised, bumping against the coffee table until she pressed it into the edge. Her four toes gripped it lightly. The anklet slid against the scutes covering her leg, rotating until the symbols faced down. She reached her wing out to spin it and hold it in place.

"This thing changed me," she told him, distracting herself with her little game of manual dexterity while she spoke. "Magic, like Gavin said. And I guess it's bad that I have it. When they broke into my apartment, they didn't ask me <b><i>why</i></b> I bought it but how I was <b><i>able</i></b> to buy it. As if it should've been impossible. The store clerk hesitated to sell it to me. She asked some weird questions that made me think I didn't belong in there. And I sure the hell don't remember ever seeing the store before. Nobody noticed me on the streets when they kidnapped me, even though I was naked so if they can hide that, they can hide an entire store. You're involved. Oh, and I guess all the strange people that come back here are probably wizards, too. I saw one in the audience. So, there's magic and you keep it away from us. And I got magic radiation poisoning from being close to you all the time."

"'Magic radiation poisoning'," Elias repeated with the hint of a smile. "You are entirely too perceptive to be working at a front desk."

"Well," she told him while raising her wings. "I don't think that'll be an issue anymore."

"As far as our current theories go, it's impossible to expose others to magical energies simply by being around someone with those abilities. My office is warded heavily. I checked before I went to the auction. There's no leakage."

"Hah, leakage," Victoria snorted before blushing and sliding her ass forward on the couch.

"I think you have the seed of an ability," he said, nodding to acknowledge her joke. "The fraction of a fraction of a fraction. And like a muscle, it was exercised in my presence until it was enough to allow you to see through cheap glamours. The rest you know."

"Okay, so, great," she said. "How do we undo this?"

"We don't," he told her. The hints of humor were gone from his face. "The clasp is gone. It's bound to you now. It <b><i>is</i></b> you now. It is permanent. Or they would've undone it and wiped your memory."

"Well, shit," Victoria cursed. Her heart dropped but she forced a smile and reached to grip her cup to take another sip.

"They're made to bind familiars to mages," he continued. "A pact is made and the intended changes, existing as part of our reality as well as a realm beyond. That connection is passed onto the mage to increase their abilities significantly. They call it a symbiotic relationship but I call it parasitic. It changes the familiar on fundamental levels. Mental and physical changes. It creates a power dynamic heavily skewed in the mage's favor."

"But, if they want it?" she asked.

<i>Like I want you?</i> she thought to herself. Her body trembled as she glanced his way. Thinking of her lips against his. His hands against her. The discussion was only making it worse as she imagined herself in that position. Bound to him. His. She forced herself to look away to continue pushing the glass, unable to even look at him. Her knee brushed his and she nearly moaned from the contact.

"They don't always," Elias sighed. He slumped ever so slightly against the couch before taking a sip from his drink. "I've known many who force the binding without permission. They... enjoy it more that way. The submission it creates. Seeing their familiar constantly struggling without being able to resist true commands."

"Well, that is shitty," Victoria acknowledged. "But there are crappy people everywhere and, really, is it that terrible if both are willing?"

"No, I-" he paused, frowning as he looked over at her. "What are you doing, Victoria?"

<i>Oh shit, he said my naaaaame,</i> she thought, shivering when she heard it.

A clear bead of cum welled from between her pussy lips, gathering another drop before sliding along her slick lips until it latched onto a stray crimson feather. Her knees opened until their legs touched one more.

"I'm not blind to what you're trying to say," he told her. "I just don't-"

"You aren't?" she interrupted, looking back up at him once more. "Then were you blind to how completely attracted I was to you? Am. How completely and utterly smitten I <b><i>am</i></b> with you?"

"I've- I've wondered," he admitted.

"Well, wonder no more!" she said. "I tried to ask you out today and flubbed it. I've been trying to ask you out for months. I have- god! I have fantasies about you all the time! And now, now that I've finally found the confidence to actually <b><i>tell </i></b>you about it, I turn into a fucking biiiiiiird. I mean, fuck my life, right?"

"The confidence comes from that," he told her while gesturing towards the anklet. "As well as the exhibitionism and arousal and-"

"I don't care <b><i>where</i></b> it came from!" she said, slamming her talons into the coffee table. Wood splintered but she ignored it until she tried to pull them out and the table cracked, breaking in half to spill her drink.

Victoria stared at the table while her mind turned over. Her chest heaved.

"I don't care, Elias," she said, more quietly. "I'll take whatever I can get. It's not <i>fair</i> that it has to be blamed on a piece of jewelry. I don't give a damn. I just want <i>you.</i>"

"Victoria," Elias said quietly.

She stared at him, eyes flicking over his face to etch it into her mind. To look for any hint of affection he might hold for her. She found it, but not in his eyes.

Victoria reached her right wing down to grip the bottom of the couch. Her other wing spread open to the arm next to her. She lifted her leg and spread her toes apart when they curled together. She kept his gaze while reaching with her foot until she pressed against the bulge in his trousers.

Slowly, as carefully as she could - more carefully and delicate than anything she'd ever tried before, she closed her toes around him. She stared into his eyes the entire time. Challenging him. Waiting for him to ask her to stop.

The anklet slid against the black scutes over her shin when she pulled her foot back.

Stroking him.

She could feel the firmness of his shaft along the bottom of her toes. His slacks were warm as she pressed her toes into them and her lips parted when she felt the silky touch against her skin between the plating.

"You don't have to," he said and she smirked at how breathless he sounded.

"Don't have to what, Elias?" she asked innocently while raising her other foot. "Don't have to let myself indulge in one of the many, many fantasies I've had about a man I've grown to respect, admire, and lust after?"

"This is-" he started to say.

"I swear to god," she growled, tensing her foot slightly until the claws dented his trousers. "I swear to god if you blame this stupid golden bracelet, I'll- I'll- Don't. Just don't. Give this to me. If you want it, too, then let me have this."

Her right foot bent. She reached out, concentrating with her tongue out as she hooked the eye of his slider with the tip of the claw. His pants unzipped. She grinned triumphantly while unhooking herself to try his button next.

"I can do it," he told her.

"I want to try," she replied, pressing the claw against the back of the button. She pulled, trying to force it through the loop but it popped off. "Aw, dammit."

"Here, let me help," he said.

She raised her foot again, stopping briefly when her muscles trembled in her thigh. When they relaxed, she pushed forward to slip the claws beneath the band of his underwear. Her brow furrowed. She squinted once more. Focusing. The middle toe lifted while the other two stayed in place and she breathed out.

Her foot dragged down. She moaned when she saw the head of his cock. Her two toes pressed together, squeezing Elias' dick carefully while the middle toe curled to rub against him. And still she pulled, dragging his underwear down while simultaneously caressing his cock until it was completely freed.

With her legs spread, Victoria bent her wing, flexing it until the side of her talon pressed into her clit. She moaned while rubbing herself but she focused the majority of her attention on Elias. The motion of her hand frustrated. Without her wrists, she couldn't bend her wing enough to do any more than rub her thumb against her clit and lips.

She looked down at herself. At her glistening clit exposed just beyond its hood. At the crimson feathers covering her lower belly. She raised her talon, sliding it against the feathers. There was the hint of sensation against her thumb but more against her mound. The downy feathers were shorter than her pubic hair the few times she let them grow out and far softer. She pushed her talon down, raising the feathers. They were matted but still so incredibly soft. The roots of the shafts tugged beneath her skin until her curved black talon touched her clit, making her gasp. And then she dragged it back, raking through the tiny feathers once more.

"Do you need some help?" Elias asked. He held his fingers to the side, against the couch but they twitched occasionally.

"No," Victoria groaned. Her voice was breathless. Lustful.

She released his underwear, tearing easily through the band with her claws before turning her foot to press the balls of her feet against Elias' cock. He grunted, softly, as she closed her toes around him, pressing the bulbous tips into his veiny shaft. She wrapped completely around him with her hooked claws curving away from him.

"God," she whispered, staring as she began to stroke him. "You're so hard. Ngh, and so warm."

Victoria leaned back further into the couch. She spread her legs, moving her left foot to place it against Elias' right hand on the couch. Her toes gripped his hand carefully while her claws tore into the fabric. She felt him open his hand, but instead of pushing her away, he spread his fingers until they pressed between her toes. Her heart sang beneath her chest as they held hands.

<i>Well, hand and foot,</i> she thought to herself.

Her toes dragged the thin skin surrounding his cock, pulling it up and over the flared head of his dick and then down. She twisted in her seat, rubbing herself back and forth, toying with her feathers and clit to heighten the thrill of her arousal.

The warmth of his cock permeated her thick toes while the softness of the skin was an erotic contrast between the leathery flesh covering her feet. She writhed as she pumped him and then smiled when she forced him to moan by twisting her foot gently around his cock. He lay back against the couch, gripping her foot tightly with his fingers and when she pulled down on his cock, he thrust up with a quick little movement.

"I want you," Victoria told him. Her smile faltered and she moaned, loudly while dragging the edge of her talon against her clit. The soft, downy crimson feathers covering her crotch were soaked from her cum. "I want to be part of your world. I don't care about the rest of- ah- ahhhhh dammit, that feels good. <b><i>You</i></b> feel good."

Her foot squeezed gently and he groaned. She dragged her toes up, opening them slightly to release his skin. Her middle toe caressed the tip of his cock while the other toe pressed together to rub against the side of his head. He hissed and his fingers gripped the couch tightly.

Victoria rocked her toes back and forth, moaning while staring at his dick. She felt wetness touch her skin and she lifted her hips with a happy little gasp when his pre-cum spread over her toes and the tip of his dick.

"If you- hssssss-" he groaned, closing his eyes. He exhaled, inhaled a deep breath and exhaled again. "If you do this. If we have sex, it binds you. To me. As my familiar. That's- god- that's all it takes. That's it, Victoria."

"I don't care," she told him, swirling her toes over his head before turning her foot to grip him tightly once more, using his pre-cum as lube to stroke his cock faster with her toes. "The rest of it means nothing to me as long as I get <i>you.</i> Even- fuck, oh fuuuuuck- even if you hadn't saved me. Even if I wasn't changed like this. If you'd told me about it this morning, I'd still do it. I want. To be. WIth you. Dammit!"

She slapped her talon against her pussy. She was continuously on the edge of an orgasm that wouldn't come. Her thumb wasn't enough and her arm ached from bending to try.

"I can't hold out much longer," he told her. He unlaced his fingers from her foot to grab the toes instead. "That feels- it feels really good, Victoria."

"Let me be yours," she begged. "Just me. Just Victoria. Let me be yours."

"Yes! I will!" he gasped.

His hand shook against her toes but she released, bringing her left foot around to his right leg. She gripped him beneath the knee, holding him tight while twisting her right foot around his cock. Her thick toes pulsed around him as she relaxed and tightened her grip. She worked the entire length of his dick from the base to the very tip while his hands beat against the couch.

Elias surged within her grasp, forcing her toes apart with every thick gout of cum he unleashed. It splashed against her claws and scutes and the gray skin in between until her foot glistened from it.

She moaned as she released him. Strings of white cum dangled between her toes while she brought her foot to her mouth, leaning forward to lick her claws clean, sucking them into her mouth one-by-one while swirling her tongue over their hardened surfaces. Elias watched her. He groaned and gripped his dick, pumping while Victoria cleaned herself.

Finally, she lowered her legs to stand, dragging her wings against the ground before raising them to latch onto both sides of the couch where Elias sat. She raised her right foot to sink into the space behind the cushions. Her claws tore through the base of the couch until she felt the wood slats beneath. Her right foot followed on the other side of Elias and she gripped both tightly before slowly lowering herself.

"Move your hand," she told Elias, pressing her cheek against his.

The feathers beneath her hair dragged against his skin. He did as he was told and she pushed down to rub him against her pussy lips. She squawked loudly until his lips pressed into her nipples, forcing her to gasp. Their cum mixed as she grinded into him, rocking back and forth. Teasing herself by letting the head of his dick force her pussy lips apart every time she pushed forward. Her tongue clicked and her throat vibrated into a rumbling purr.

"Let me," he told her while bringing his hands around to her ass.

Her tail feathers flexed and waved and spread apart but she shook her head. And then moaned when he massaged her cheeks.

"I've- I've- oh god! I've got it!" she told him, finally dipping her hips when she pushed forward. His head spread her apart. When she shoved herself down, she screeched with an ear-splitting sound that forced him to cover his ears.

He filled her completely. To the point where she thought she'd go mad from it. The arousal built by the anklet surrounded her, mixing with the power forming between them. She wanted this for so long and now she had it. And it was better than she could possibly imagine. Her ass slammed down against him and her tail followed, slapping her ass until it quaked, shoving him even deeper inside.

When she lifted herself up, he pulled her off completely.

"No! No, don't, please!" she begged, trying to force herself back down but he held her tight while sliding beneath her. "You- you promised. You promi-oh!"

He reached forward, arms around her to force her to unlatch her talons from the couch. She did and he lifted her easily when she opened her toes. Victoria bent her legs when he turned her to lay her on the couch where she'd sat earlier.

She leaned up to him and he bent down in return, kissing her deeply while grinding his cock into her clit. The silky feathers gliding against his cock sent shivers down his spine as they traced microscopic barbs against his sensitive, cum-slick skin. She surrounded him with her wings while wrapping her legs around his thighs, twisting them to lock him in place. Her feet pulled him down, urging him into her.

Elias guided his cock back into Victoria's swollen pussy. She squawked, eyes bulging while pushing up to meet his thrust. Her feathers shook around him, caressing his body in a way he'd never felt before. The combination almost sent him over the edge once more until he focused inward.

"Are you mine, Victoria?" he asked her, leaning back to stare into her eyes.

"Yes! Yes god yes, Elias! Yes!" she gasped, working her hips against his thrusting cock. She pulled him deeper until it was almost painful but her pussy clenched against him the entire way.

The magic was a storm building around them. Their hairs stood on end. Victoria's throat rumbled into a rough purr once more when he bent down against her. She wished he was naked so she could feel his skin against her chest but she knew that would come.

Elias pressed deeply into Victoria. He wrapped his arms beneath her back while pressing his forehead into the mossy green feathers covering the curve of neck. He grunted. And groaned. And trembled.

"Then, be mine," he told her.

Victoria's screech rattled the window. She bucked while slamming her wings against Elias' back. His cock swelled within her and she could feel his cum drilling into her. For a brief moment, she felt the echo of his own pleasures mixed with hers. The magic settled over them and into them, binding them together.

"It's- it's done," she gasped, collapsing against her.

Victoria tried to talk but her throat was rough and she wheezed briefly.

"I- I hope not <i>completely</i> done," she said, finally, laughing before gasping and arching her back. "Ohhh fuck it's still going fuck!"

They lay together until Victoria let herself slide from the couch to the floor, pulling Elias with her. He leaned back but she held him tight, clenching her wings against him. When he shook his head, she relaxed.

He pulled back and she twisted with a groan after he slipped out.

"What?" she asked shyly when he stared down at her.

Instead of answering, he reached down to stroke the side of her face. A small, satisfied smile spread over his face. She smiled in return.

"You know," he said, spreading his fingers to run them through her hair and down, carefully through the feathers beneath them. "I just hired you because you were pretty and bright and a good distraction for the customers."

"Oh, this better have a good ending," she told him while raising her eyebrow. He stroked the side of her face again and then up, once more into her hair and down. She turned to his hand, nuzzling against it.

"It was my downfall," he said. "I fell for you."

"Since when?" she asked.

He leaned down to kiss her. She opened her lips and moaned when his tongue slipped inside. Her wings slid back and forth against his body until he pulled back.

"Oh, months ago," he said. "When we stayed late that week, I think. Back in November. There was a moment, late at night where I just watched you work. You were graceful and beautiful and a joy to be around. And I thought, if I could ever find someone like you, I'd be a lucky man."

"You should've told me," she said, searching his eyes.

He kissed her cheek and sat back to run his fingers down her neck. She trembled when she felt his fingertips tracing a path through the green feathers along her shoulders.

"You're my employee," he told her. "But not anymore, I think. Not at the front desk. I'll have to find someone new to handle the everyday customers."

"And me?" she asked him while stroking his back lightly.

He sat back with his fingers working at his tie until he pulled it free to fling aside. Next, he undid the buttons of his shirt until he slipped out of it. The undershirt followed until his chest was bare. Victoria cooed at him while pulling him down against her body. Her nipples rubbed against his skin while he kissed and nibbled at the side of her neck.

"You'll have to join me in the back," he told her. "I'll have rooms set up for you and you'll be there when I meet my real clients. I have so much to teach you. So much to show you."

"Rooms? I don't need extra rooms," she said. "I'll share yours."

"Oh, well," he said, propping himself up on one hand while caressing her face with the other. "I thought, perhaps, I could build a giant empty room with a perch for you to sleep- ow!"

"Jerk!" Victoria laughed, giggling until he leaned back down to kiss her. She groaned while sliding her wings along his body to press his ass down. His semi-hard cock rubbed against her clit and she moaned, twisting while he grew hard once more.

"I'm yours, Victoria," he told her.

Eyes on her. Watching her.

"And I'm yours, Elias," she answered, pulling him into a kiss. Her voice dropped to a rumbling purr. "So take me."
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Unread 07-11-2021   #32
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Her First Clutch [F Chicken]
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Tainted eggs bring about strange changes and new urges.

You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham
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Jan held the receiver against her ear, waving at her coworker as she answered the company's phone.

"Tellus Technologies, how may I direct your call?" she asked, watching while Linda, the head of the accounting department, stepped up to the front desk. "Yes, please hold."

"Jan, I remembered to bring them before I left!" the portly woman said. Although she ran her own department, she was down-to-earth and a little 'out there' compared to the other executives. Rather than their dreary gray suits, the older woman wore a bright red Christmas sweater with Santa Claus driving his reindeer across a white sky.

"Oh, good!" Jan said enthusiastically. "I was about to leave for the day, too!"

Quiet holiday music played over the company's loudspeaker and strings of red and green bulbs lined the large office, reflecting their lights on the dark wood paneling. Yet another gift from Linda. The other executives couldn't be bothered with the holiday.

"These are from two of my hens," Linda said as she opened a half-carton to show an array of light blue, brown and white eggs. "I can't believe they're already laying eggs! I'm so excited."

"Are you sure you're okay sharing your first batch?" Jan asked, touching the small eggs curiously.

"Of course I'm sure," Linda beamed. "You don't have to store them in the fridge or anything. Just put them on the table and cook them when you're ready! I'm going to make a soufflé tonight with mine."

"I'll try an omelet," Jan told her, carefully closing the carton. "Thank you again. I've always dreamed of having my own farm so I'm going to have to just live vicariously through you!"

"Tell me how it turns out!" the other woman said. "And, Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" Jan told her as Linda walked away.

The young receptionist clicked a button on her console to forward her calls while gathering her purse and personal items. Finally, she clicked the power switch to her typewriter, grabbed the eggs and walked out of her building with a wave to the few people still working.

Cold wind swirled around the young woman as she stepped into the gray afternoon air. Driving snow pelted her face until she wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck while burying her nose deep into the thick, warm cotton folds. Her shoes crunched over the salted parking lot until she found her car. As quickly as she could, she unlocked the door with her key, tossed her purse inside and then closed the door behind her.

The small, boxy car complained as she turned the key into the ignition but finally, with a few pumps of the gas pedal, it started. She set the eggs down and then turned the vents to face her. The freezing air seemed to seep into the car through every available gap. Jan turned the handle for her window until her arm trembled from the effort.

With a look over her shoulder for safety, she backed up and slowly drove through the snowy streets with an iron grip on her steering wheel.

---

Cheers played quietly in the background in the living room while Jan stood in her kitchen. She held her knife while listening to Frasier tell Sam about a client of his and she shook her head at the lie he was telling.

"That never goes we- ow!" Jan said, sucking in her breath as she lay her knife down. Three drops of blood welled in a line at the cut across her pointer finger. She tsked at herself for getting distracted and then sucked her finger briefly. When the blood stopped, she finished cutting the bell pepper and then pushed the pieces against the pile of chopped onions on the wooden board before her.

Opening a nearby drawer, the young woman grabbed a mixing bowl and a whisk.

"Alright, let's see how you do," she murmured, opening the cartoon of eggs. She cracked the first egg against the bowl and then a second one after it. After contemplating how small they were compared to store bought eggs, she grabbed a third and cracked it open. Egg yolk leaked down the side of the bowl. She wiped at it with her finger before absentmindedly cleaning her finger against her apron.

A splash of milk followed the eggs in the bowl before she added salt and pepper. As she beat the eggs, her finger begin to throb. Jan sucked at her finger again and the pressure seemed to help the slight pain, reducing it to a manageable ache.

Next, she turned her stove's burner on and cut a small pat of butter to scrape into the waiting fry pan. She reached around to scratch at her back while pushing the melting butter around. A small bump met her fingers and she idly toyed with it before reaching up to scratch the back of her neck.

As she took her hand away from her neck to move the pan around, small holes opened in her skin. Thin, slick shafts of keratin pushed through the holes in a wide pattern along her neck as her body began replacing her hair follicles with quills. The shafts dried and copper-colored barbed vanes pulled away to reveal her first hackle feathers.

Jan lifted the bowl to pour it into the pan. She stared at the soupy mess and then tilted her head in a quick gesture. The soft, white skin beneath her chin grew red. She scratched at it while trying to pinpoint a strange sensation beginning to arise within her body.

She felt full in a way that was nearly hard for her to describe. The woman shifted her feet uncomfortably and then blushed. It was changing now, perhaps due to how she moved. Now - now it reminded her of rising arousal. Of the emptiness she felt when she was turned on. And how it felt to finally have her lover's dick deep inside of her when she was craving it. It wasn't quite sexual-

"Oh," Jan whispered, cocking her head sharply to the left as she pressed her hand against her trim stomach.

She felt it now. Not exactly the fullness of sex but something close enough to make her breathe a little faster. To make her begin to ache deep in the pit of her stomach. Her fingertips brushed her sides and she shivered at her own touch, her skin suddenly too sensitive.

Goosebumps rose along her arms and her hackle feathers lifted in response. Small cramps assaulted her, sharp stabbing pains that quickly replaced the gentle waves of pleasure. For a brief moment, she thought it was her period but the pains were more mild and she'd just finished her period a week ago.

Can't be that, she thought, grimacing through the pinching pain. Her uterus reshaped within as glands formed to produce albumen and calcium carbonate. As the discomfort increased dramatically, her knees dropped and she held herself against the bar on the front of her oven. Jan panted through the agony in quick bursts until it suddenly vanished, as quickly as it'd appeared.

Still, the fullness from earlier increased and the hint of pleasure followed with it once again. She felt it between her legs but it began to pulse upwards, tangling every nerve with a delicious twist. As it coursed through her body, thick follicles formed beneath her skin until the light thrill touching her body felt like a million maddening fingers toying with her.

"God! Oh, god!" Jan moaned, falling to her knees with her arms crossed beneath her breasts.

Her shirt moved against her arms as her breasts expanded. She felt their heat as they grew firm and full, bulging from the sides of the spaghetti strap top she wore. The weight of them pressed against her as she reached up to feel them. Black spots bloomed in the corners of her vision as her body diverted blood flow to her engorged breasts. The weight of them pulled at her back. They were harden and hot against her fingers. They begged for release but, as she squeezed them, she hissed. They hurt.

Looking down her stomach, she realized she couldn't see past her chest but her eyes widened further when milk leaked from her swollen nipples. The fabric absorbed the milk in large, ragged circular splotches that felt cool on her warm skin. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled, dragging it upward until she was bare.

The sensation of her shirt dragging against the feathers along her neck gave her pause. She reached back and her fingers jerked away when she felt silky softness rather than skin.

Before she could reach back again, a deep tickling sensation along her belly distracted her. She glanced down her body but realized her breasts had grown enough to block her view. Blue veins stood out on the taut, marbled skin and she groaned when she touched herself. Translucent liquid welled at the tips of her nipples. Once the drops reached critical weight, they fell, coursing down her areola and the white skin of her tits. Ignoring the desperate urge to express her own milk, she pushed her breasts aside.

Tiny spots appeared along her stomach but, when she looked closer, she realized they were holes opening and closing. No, not closing but expelling dark, short shafts. She fell back in shock, watching as the wave of strange, hairlike strands began to cover her lower stomach. They were cool and slick against her warm body and she had to bite her lips as they brushed her skin. Despite her rising panic, she couldn't deny how her body begged to be stroked. How eager it was for touch and how responsive she felt. How incredibly turned on.

As she leaned back, she was finally able to see past her bosom and a thought filled her. She pressed her heels into the ground to raise her hips and then slid her pajama pants down.

The same shafts covered her mound and upper thighs. As she exposed them to the warm, dry air, they opened to show small, glossy, midnight black feathers.

Jan opened her mouth to scream. Her voice cracked as her vocal chords began to be absorbed into the surrounding tissue.

"Whaa," she gasped, hands to her rasping throat. She coughed, turned and spat before trying again. "Whaaaaa-aaaawk! Whaaawk is-"

The gaps between the woman's teeth vanished as they merged. Her tongue explored them until they shoved forward. She touched her face in horror but realized she was wrong, her face was the same. Instead, she felt her tongue receding into her mouth.

"Rraawwk is 'isss," she cried, grabbing at her face. Despite the warmth and heat along her chest, her face was cold. Numb. She touched her cheeks and her fingers pressed against bone.

For a brief moment, her nose came into view. She crossed her eyes as her face elongated, pulling her nose flat against her developing beak. Her fingers explored the soft flesh of her lips and cheeks as they tightened, growing taut over her bulging, curved bill. Her skin stretched, it cannibalizing the enamel of her teeth and bone of her jaw while producing keratin in return.

She touched her short beak in disbelief, feeling it drying and hardening beneath her fingers. It curved away from her face, slick and dense in a delicate downward contour at the end. All that remained of her nose were two holes in her upper mandible.

With a racing heart, she pulled herself up and ran to the kitchen. The air rushing past her body rifled her feathers in a disconcerting way but she ignored it until she was in the bathroom.

An alien face stared back at her from the bathroom mirror. The dark feathers lining her stomach had reached the bottom of her engorged breasts. Their march had slowed but she watched more tiny black mouths open along her breast bone as the milk dripping from her nipples leaked onto the bathroom sink.

But it was her face that drew her attention. She cocked her head sharply and a strand of her black hair fell to the ground around her feet. With shaking hands she reached up to touch her hair and more strands came free at her touch. Tears welled in her eyes as she ran her fingers through her hair and clumps pulled away until she stood bald in the soft white overhead light.

Her scalp appeared red and irritated. She ducked her head, clicking her beak as she stared at the bumpy red flesh atop her skull. She touched it hesitantly and it moved freely under her fingers.

"Naaawwk!" she crowed in denial as the reddened, lumpy skin sagged along her head. She felt the skin slid against her scalp until it hung over her eyes. The weight of it pulled her head and she brushed it away, shuddering at the thick, fleshy feel of it. It swelled at her touch, growing slowly erect until her wattle covered her scalp like a spiky, bumpy mohawk.

A rasping gasp forced itself past her open beak as the growth of her feathers reached her breasts. She gripped the edge of the sink with her eyes forced shut as she ignored the thrilling, erotic sensation of a million fingers caressing her overly sensitive, aching bosom. The down along her belly shifted as more feathers joined them and she spied copper and purple coloring amidst the black.

Jan turned, ignoring the throbbing ache from her chest and lower belly as she made her way toward the living room. She stumbled, catching herself against a nearby wall as she tripped over her toes.

Fearing the worst, she looked down at her feet. Her toes had lengthened without her realizing it. Each joint of her petite feet were an inch long and growing longer through the thick pile of her carpeting as she watched. Worse, her feet were shrinking, shedding mass that were absorbed by her toes. She held herself steady, watching as her soft skin grew wrinkled. As the toes continued to slid forth, they thickened, flesh and muscle growing beneath the ropy, tough exterior.

Pain lanced through the arch of her shortened foot. Bones clicked and shifted as they rearranged and tendons pulled her pinky toes sideways. As her small toe moved, the webbing between her index and middle toes expanded from the base of her shrinking foot. It worked along her toes like a fleshy zipper, combining both of them into a single digit.

Her center of balance shifted, forcing her to lean forward onto the powerful new toes. They flexed and her toenails lifted as clear, curved claws pierced them to dig into the floor beneath her. She lifted her feet and her toes bent automatically as if she were clutching something. Stepping forward, they pulled flat, steadying her as she moved. Although she expected trouble with them, her body adapted and she found it oddly comfortable. In a disgusting, disturbing way.

The phone rang as Jan took another experimental step. She squawked in alarm and then clacked her beak shut in frustration. As carefully as her feet would allow, she walked down the hallway toward the living room. She could feel quills growing beneath her pajamas, sliding against fabric and skin. Her pants were growing tight on her body and she could feel dense muscles flexing in her thighs.

"Hi!" her voice called out from the living room. "You've reached Jan's voicemail! I'm not home so please leave a message!"

"Jan!" said a panicked voice. "There's something rawwwwwk! Some- something rawwwwkng with the eggs. Don't- Doooawwwwwk! Awwwwwwk!"

Just as Jan reached her phone, the line disconnected. She reached for it and then shivered as thin shafts sprouted from her forearms. They spiraled along her arms and down to her hands in a torturous, tickling rush that left her gasping. She fell to her knees, hugging her arms to her enormous tits.

A sudden, small orgasm caused the young woman's eyes to bulge from her sockets. Her beak flew open and she arched her back with her wide hips thrust out behind her. The bump on her lower back bulged. Flesh and muscle formed beneath the skin until it pushed outward into a tail nearly the width of her waist.

She fell to her hands and knees as her hands cramped and swelled. Claws lanced out of the tips of her fingers as she spread her thighs. Her naked tail quivered above her as she felt the urge to push. To force whatever was inside of her out. It was an undeniable feeling. New instincts emerged, whispering in her brain.

And she couldn't deny that it felt good to do it. She hated herself for it but she couldn't stop it. And didn't want to stop it.

The glands within her rearranged uterus coated the descending ovum, covering it before sending it further and releasing another ovum. She cried out with her strange, harsh voice as she strained. Sweat soaked immediately into her soft feathers and she trembled under the strain. Pain mixed with the arousing sensation of an impending orgasm. She pushed and then gasped, panting with her head bowed.

Copper-colored feathers bloomed from drying quills along her back. She resumed pushing and more feathers grew over naked flesh until every inch of her body was covered.

Almost! God, almost! she thought to herself. She felt herself bulge open and she raised her beak to the ceiling as the thing inside of her slid against the powerful, clenching walls of her slick pussy. Jan bowed her head to the ground, pressing her wattle against the carpet and spreading her thighs wider as her labia widened and the egg crowned. Unable to help herself, she reached under her body, touching her clit with her clawed finger. As the huge egg slid past her stretched pussy, she rubbed her clit, pressing it against the shell of the egg.

Jan shuddered from her release and her pulsing pussy pushed the egg free. Her straining pajama pants kept the egg pressed against her sex and she moaned at the pressure of it against her thighs - thick and warm like a lover's cock.

Has to be done, she thought while panting. Has to- oh, oh god. Oh!

It wasn't stopping. Now that she'd laid her first egg, she knew what to expect as the second one began to form. Her beak creaked as she forced her mandibles closed. The young woman reached back to pull her pajamas down and her egg fell to the soft carpeting beneath her.

"Raaaaaaawwwwk," Jan cried. She leaned forward, biting against the wooden edge of the desk while gripping its legs. Her bare, feathered hips raised and lowered as she pushed. Her eyes fluttered in her head as the orgasm began to build.

Descending. Like reverse sex. Feeling it enter her from the other side and immediately clenching against it. Her beak digging into the table. Quivering as her egg moved fractions of an inch through her tight pussy. Shuddering as she lay on the knife's edge of wanting the orgasm but wanting to prolong it. Teasing herself. So thick. Like nothing she'd had before.

Jan crowed as she squirted from a massive orgasm. Her pussy pulsed and she looked down to see the bulge of her egg. Gasped as the sweet pain tore through her. Swallowing and groaning as her lips opened to show the light blue curve of the speckled egg emerging.

Her cum coated the feathers surrounding her crotch as she raised herself, shoving her feathered ass backwards. Clenching and squeezing and rubbing herself until the egg slipped free.

Fuck! Fuuuuuck! she thought to herself. Her heart pounded. She stroked her soft feathers until she froze, realizing how much she was enjoying it. No. No! I have toooooOOOH GOD!

Another egg began to form and the woman's curved beak flew open as her eyes widened. Her clawed hand dropped to her pussy and her short tail wriggled in anticipation, her feathers fluttering with the motion.

More, she moaned, bowing her head as she gave in. Her wattle shifted as she focused inward. Her free hand clutched her swollen, aching breast and she squeezed herself while being careful of the feathers coating her body. The tip of a small claw teased her nipple and she cawed quietly as the third egg began to move.

A new maternal instinct began to form. As the next orgasm built, her mind wandered to her boyfriend, Trevor. These eggs would be unfertilized. She glanced at her phone before squeezing her eyes closed. She would need his cum. For her babies. She would need her rooster.

Too far. Too far.

---

Jan shivered and her hackle feathers lifted as goosebumps rose along her body. She clucked, stepping carefully through her apartment door with a raised foot. Her head jerked until she was sure it was clear.

She was a cheerful woman that made friends easily and she knew everyone in her apartment.

Steven was next door. She tested her door but it was locked and she clacked her beak in frustration.

The need was bad. She wanted to feel it again. Had to feel it again. Her brain buzzed with the lack of her eggs. Her feathered hand shook as she tested Jonathon's door. Even though she knew he was married, she had to check.

A third door. She moaned, hating herself for the desire but unable to stop it. Like a junkie questing for her fix.

A fourth. The door opened. It took her a second but then she remembered. Tony. Tony's apartment. Young guy that was always awkward and shy around her. Not her type since he was scrawny and pocked with acne but she didn't care.

His apartment was dark. She closed the door gently and moved through the hallway, lifting her clawed feet one at a time. Her head rocked forward with each step as she walked. The apartments were laid out the same so she knew where his bedroom was and she peeked through into the dark interior.

The young man's blanket was tossed aside despite the cold. She crept into the room carefully until she was by his bed.

God, she thought, her eyes locked on the man's crotch. So wet. So damn wet. I need it. I need it, god I need it so bad. His cum inside me. Deep inside. The eggs yes yes yes more of them. So many more. My babies. The feel of it coming down.

He wore boxers and she hooked her claws carefully beneath the band before drawing them back. His cock lay limp and she shuddered, imagining it inside of her. Her juices were leaking from her pussy freely, running down her leg as they dripped.

As slowly and gently as she could, she stepped onto the bed and lay down against him, pressing her hot pussy against his small cock. Her feathers settled softly against his bare skin. She raised her arms, lifting her massive breasts before leaning forward, spreading the black feathers apart until an aching nipple was exposed.

Jan rocked her ass back as she pressed her nipple against the young man's open lips. A drop of her milk fell and he swallowed reflexively as he began to harden. The man groaned, twisting beneath her and she wasted no time. Lifting her hips, she grabbed his cock, rubbing the head between her thighs until she felt him against her hips.

The young woman shoved herself down and Tony gasped awake, grabbing her hips by reflex as she rode him. She gripped him tightly, flexing her pussy against him over and over. Milking him. Willing him to cum. The muscles within her pussy felt powerful. Changed like the rest of her body so she could lay her eggs.

"Who the fuck-?!" Tony yelled, slapping at her side.

The man bucked and came with a gasp. Jan crowed, grabbing his hands to press against her tits as she shoved herself down, locking him in place while he filled her. While he fertilized her. His hands gripped her sore breasts and she moaned with an odd croaking sound until he snatched his hands away.

Tony shoved and pulled away, scrambling back. He fell from his bed and slammed himself against the wall. Jan shuddered, hunching against the bed. She pressed her hands against her swollen labia, shoving his leaking cum back into her pussy while clenching herself as hard as possible.

"What- what are you?!" Tony gasped, pushing himself up against the wall until he stood, eyes wide and staring at the feathered woman. "How did you- What did you-aaaawk!"

She tried to smile but her beak only opened partially. She turned to look at him sideways as he pressed his hands against his mouth. His limp cock began to harden and she groaned as she watched it move.

The man - a virgin no more - stared at the strange creature while a million pinpricks exploded all over his body. He found himself staring at her wide hips and the bulge of her breasts beneath her glossy black feathers.

She's glorious, he thought, unable to stop himself. Her sleek feathers were glossy and clean and he couldn't stop feeling aroused at the sight of her.

A single quill slid through the skin of Tony's forearm. Jan turned and spread her thick thighs, raising her ass to him. Her ropy, clawed legs rested against the edge of the bed. Tony's jaws clacked as his hands began to lower to his straining cock.

Can't- he thought, touching his cum-soaked cock. Can't stop thinking- about-

Jan cawed as she felt hands against her hips and the brush of short feathers against the plumage covering her ass.

Yet, as the man shoved himself back inside of her and she lost herself to the pleasure of his cock pounding deep inside, all she could think of were the eggs she'd lay. She knew, deep down, that she would never stop.

And never wanted to.
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Unread 08-03-2021   #33
LycanDope
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Join Date: Apr 2008
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

A young woman accidentally triggers a change into a horny werehorse.

This started from a patron on Discord who posted something about... uhh... My Little Pony, I think? With the caption: "Horse. Pussy." It became a kind of joke and I decided to write something about it

You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham
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Innocence dies in the face of rule 34.

I've resisted the urge to contribute so far. Using my powers for good, you could say. But corruption is inevitable - all it takes is a tiny push. And then another. And another.

I'm strong, though. Mostly.

Spring break and I have the dorm room to myself. My roommate is off spending time with her family and my course load is pretty minor at the moment. I don't even have to work a real job so I can sit here, being lazy while bingeing Netflix and playing video games.

Honestly, really lazy. I've been wearing my D.Va pajamas for the past three days now and there's a toothpaste stain on the bottom of my t-shirt. It's basically ruined now because it's a black t-shirt and have you ever tried to get toothpaste out? I'm asking because I barely know how to work the washing machine. Star Guardian from League of Legends is staring down at the stain in disapproval while nestled safely between my boobs. On the shirt. I don't have a plushie of her or anything. That's just weird.

"Time for a bit of magic," I tell myself in a hindsight cringing way.

I fire up my smart TV and load up an old season of My Little Pony while I munch on a healthy dinner of crackers. In bed. But, don't worry, I'm careful with it. No crumbs for me, please.

MLP is a soothing show for me. I don't have to focus on it and can just let it play as background noise. It's just sugar for my brain and not very confrontational so I don't stress about whatever wacky stuff they're doing. Plus, they're cute.

I have my sketchbook with me so I grab it and lay the crackers down next to my little butt. God did not bless me with hips but that just means I can lie? Or my hips can? I'm not very clear on that whole business I've found that if I don't each too much, I have a bit of a waist that looks like I have not-boyish hips. Not muffin tops, no no no. It's like- it's like an 'enhanced' waist. I'm just trying to make up for what I don't have.

So, I just sketch, humming and tapping my foot. I'm an art student, I sketch all the time. It's just that, in this particular instance, this would be my tiny push.

Fluttershy is my favorite from the new My Little Pony show so I doodle her. And then my second favorite, Rainbow Dash. Followed by Rarity. The art in the show is incredibly simplistic and easy to imitate. And that's not very challenging.

So, I start messing with it a little bit. Adding some dimensions and different angles.

My first problem hits me almost immediately.

Do I make them anatomically correct?

I mean, that'd be weird, right?

Right?

What do horse vaginas look like, anyway?

I grab my tablet, open the browser, start typing and then clear the box and open a private browsing session. I guess I don't need that, oh. Huh. Okay. I mean, not too different. Just, uh. Bigger. Because, whoa. Wow.

Because, that's why. I guess guy horses have gigantic dicks. Jesus. I'm flabbergasted while browsing and staring at horse dicks.

I'm not a farm girl, how the heck would I know?

Okay, screw it, let's do it.

While the wholesome children's television show plays in the background, I come up with my own character. Slutmare. I'm willing to bet that if I did a search on the Internet, I'm not the first to come up with it.

Her cutie mark is, of course, a dick. With a scraggly hairs on the balls. Like someone spray painted it on the side of a car. Or a van, probably. Way more likely. But she's otherwise a pure, perfect pony. Let's see, white with gray around the hooves?

The pièce de résistance is her vagina. I picked white for her because her vagina is pure black. Puffy black lips that connect up to her puffy asshole. What better way to show how slutty she is than to make it stand out? A few tweaks and tricks of coloring make it so that her lips are gleaming, slick and wet because she's a slut and sluts are always ready for the horse cock.

And that's it! My first foray into destroying childhood memories. She looks pretty good, actually. Ready to be mounted and fucked. Hell, I'm getting a little turned on looking at it. But that's just natural because it's a weird taboo sex thing. Who wouldn't? Plus, all the male horses I was looking at earlier. Stallions? With their huge cocks just hanging below them. Thick as my wrist.

Mmm. A little bit of wetness there. Might have to touch myself later. Maybe grab some porn, dig around a bit and, yeah. Yeah, I could use a good release.

Except I can't have a Slutmare without a cock to fill her, can I? Oh. That- that sounds real nice right about now. You and me both, Slutmare.

God, it's getting kinda hot in here. How- wow.

I'm really fucking wet.

Unf. Can't help but twist my legs together as I slip my fingers into my pajamas to rub my clit, dipping my fingers between my folds to get them nice and lubricated and- no, no. Later. Later.

I don't even notice sucking on my finger to clean it off because I have important dicks to draw.

Sir. Cocks-A-Lot is a big strong, mmmf, stallion. And his cutie mark is a bottle of steroid pills. Wait, is that injected? Can you just take pills? Forget it, I'm leaving it as pills. Although, a syringe is cock shaped. Kinda. Oh no, now I have to do it because that's fucking hilarious. Old school syringe with two loops for fingers. The steroids also enhance his dick so he's got a big- wait a sec, more research needed.

And more water because I'm feeling a bit hot here. Need to move this on so I can rub one out.

Okay, huge dick. Really veiny with a some fun rings of flesh sticking out. Flat headed and a bit of a sheath, all connected to his belly. And nearly as long as his body. God, can she even take that? I bet it feels amazing. It's been weeks since Josh and I broke up and he wasn't that big. Not that that's why we broke up. It's just. What would it feel like to be stretched like that? To have it so deep and thick you feel like you might tear apart?

It's, uhh, getting a little hard to think and my sketchbook keeps scratching against me and distracting me and I think I need to take a minute here.

So I set my sketchbook aside. And close my eyes, wriggling my little butt as I scoot my pajamas and panties down. Cracking an eye, I see strands of my pussy juice clinging to my tan panties. Jesus. Wow. I'm really wound up.

With my feet pressed together and my knees to the side, I slip a finger between my tight, pink lips, toying with myself slowly. Groaning, biting my lips as I press inside and clench my pussy against it, crooking my finger up while pressing the heel of my hand flat against my clit.

My free hand digs against my side and then up to my tit. I can hold the entire thing in the palm of my hand and I do, squeezing and massaging as I work myself up.

And then I open my eye, turning my head to stare at my sketchbook.

I can almost feel it. On my hands and knees, head down, god yes, head down and ass up so I'm nice and spread.

Hearing him clip-clop over to me and then feeling the fucking weightof it against my back. And so warm. Fuck! Yes, I jerk as I go too hard and then back off.

Just as he'd back off. Feeling the soft, thin skin of his rock hard cock sliding against my body. Bending lower and raising my hips. And then it's between my thighs. Pressed against, ff-fuck, pressed against my pussy but I can feel that flat head against both of my thighs because he's so goddamn big, yes, fuck yes.

A second finger joins the third. Blood rushes to my pussy and it makes me dizzy for a second. I lose my train of thought and a third finger joins the fun, all in a vertical line so they fit within me.

Almost already there, Jesus, yes, almost, my fingers spread apart slightly and I can hear the shlock-shlock-shlock sound of my hand slapping against my soaking wet sex. Yes! Yes, god, yes!

I cum, squirting for the first time in my life and the convulsions shove my fingers free. While I'm jerking and jack-knifing, my spine breaks. I don't notice because it's apparently not painful but my body is changing.

Growing longer. Muscle builds within my pussy as my uterus shifts further back into my lengthening body. Shifting. Deepening.

My legs quiver and my toes twist together and I lay in bliss, my hand resting against my mound. Normally, I'd pass out and sleep like the dead but, uh.

Uh.

I'm. I'm still fucking horny.

I lift my shirt, licking my finger to tease my nipple, twisting it, pinching it and just rubbing the top until my entire stomach aches. I can feel my heart beating in time to it. Forcing blood through my body like a taut drum.

My other finger begins to rub against my clit and I'm so into it that I don't feel the bones beneath my mound lift. It presses my hand up and my pussy... stretches. But all I know is I can't stop playing with myself.

That I can't stop thinking of this made up horse fucking me. Or Daniel from my English Composition class fucking me. Or Jacob. Or Chad. Oh fuck, oh fuck, Josh! I just, I just can't stop thinking about being filled right now.

My hand slips down and all four of my fingers slip into my stretched pussy. I suck on my free fingers again and lean forward slightly to rub against my asshole. It's not something I do much but it feels good.

I can feel every bump as it puckers outward at my touch. The light brown color darkens to black and it swells as I press a finger inside, gasping from the double sensation.

Aaron, I huff. I bet he's got a big cock. Maybe he could fuck my pussy while Josh takes my asshole and, mmfff, fuck, fuck, yes, fuck! I could suck Daniel off, too. Just being used like the fucking slut I am.

More blood floods down my body and my pussy lips swell, bulging out against my thighs. I've soaked my legs and my bed and my hands and the entire room smells like sex. And that just drives me more wild.

I'd take a fucking horse right now and, although I don't know it, my body's adapted to it. My lithe, petite frame could take it now and the imagery drives me mad. Tied up, bound and gagged so I can't move while they bring a horse in to fuck me until I'm too sore to walk.

I cum again and it's hard to keep my hands steady but I keep going because it's still not enough. My little tongue hangs from my mouth and my eyes are rolled back and all I can think of is being fucked.

My hand slips into my expanded, tight pussy as my engorged labia begin to take on a onyx shade to match my puffy asshole. I can feel the velvety softness of my own lips against my wrist as I fist-fuck myself.

I don't know what's wrong with me but I need more. I don't have- oh, oh shit, Mike was on a group project with me. I have his number.

I grab my phone, nearly dropping it as I slap my pussy hard again and again with the palm of my hand. Trying to bury my fingers inside of myself. Sweating and gasping and still so hot.

It takes forever but I find it and I dial him.

My forearm is rubbing a sore spot on my lower belly and the skin is irritated. Two small circular patches of darker colored skin stand out just below my belly-button.

"M-m-mike!" I stutter, panting. "Listen, I'm at Oates Hall and I n-n-need you here. It's Emma. From your group, oh fuck! Group project! Bring someone, please. I need dick. Please. Hurry."

I drop the phone and huff, kicking my foot as I bring myself to the edge once more. I don't know if that will work. The phone call, I mean. But, I'm too distracted to care. Too hungry for dick. Too needy. I'm aching and empty and not even my whole goddamn hand feels like it's enough.

I don't know how much time has passed but when Mike knocks, I scream at him to come in. I roll over on the bed, on my hands and knees, ass in the air.

Bones are moving above my ass. Swishing back and forth beneath the skin. I can feel them but it's not really my concern right now. My free hand is pinching one of my new teats. It's all centered in my lower stomach - the teats, my pussy and my asshole. My core.

My hands twists into the soaked sheets beneath me as I thrust myself back by instincts. Instincts that tell me I'm in heat. I'm tightening the muscles within my slick, exposed pussy. And then releasing them. Tightening, feeling them slip together. Releasing. Winking the glistening pink sex beneath the dark labia surrounding them.

I can't see it but there's fur on the back of my neck. The start of my mane. All I know is, I hear clothes dropping to the ground and Mike is laying down next to me while someone, I don't fucking care who, comes up behind me.

I whinny a little as I press myself down on Mike's throbbing, bare cock and the other boy's dick presses against my puffy, black asshole. I shove my wet fingers into Mike's mouth and he sucks at them while they fuck me.

And so what if I can feel them growing bigger inside of me? If I can feel Mike's sheath starting to grow after after the second time he cums. So what if the boy behind me neighs just before he bites my shoulder and grabs my thick, swishing tail?

Is it really my fault?

Maybe.

Friendship may be magic but orgasms, Jesus, orgasms are the fucking real magic.
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Unread 09-04-2021   #34
LycanDope
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Fractured Light [female / gecko girl]
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A thief finds herself changing after stealing the wrong treasure.
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The lone tower sat amidst an eerily silent clearing. The thief knelt, hidden behind blackened trees as she watched for movement.

Moonlight streamed down, the lines of silver highlighting lazily floating wisps. Reaching down, the thief placed two fingers against the charred earth at the edge of the clearing. The ground was brittle, as if the earth itself was a giant scab surrounding the tilted tower.

The thief rocked back, carefully pulling her dappled gray and green hood back to expose shoulder-length brown hair. She wrinkled her nose at the harsh smell surrounding her. It was alien to her and the closest she could place it was rotten oil mixed with a sharp, electric taste. The thief swallowed so she wouldn't gag.

Before her, the tower itself pierced the ground, centered within the devastation that leveled the forest surrounding it. Its disappearance had been an amazing sight to behold. She'd been outside the keep, slipping out of a minor lord's mansion when a bright flash of light from the castle had nearly blinded her. Anchoring herself to the ledge, she'd rubbed her eyes until the sparks cleared from her vision. When she could see again, a gate tower was missing. Even from a distance, she could see where the stone was sheared cleanly. A few seconds later, she heard a thunderclap and a blast of hot air followed behind it.

She'd planned to leave shortly after robbing the mansion but, instead found her curiosity piqued. The village buzzed with rumors and theories. Common folk believed it was a sign from the Lord of Silence. That the king had angered the Lord in some way and His hand was moved to show a sign of His displeasure.

Priests wallowed in the talk, setting themselves up at nearly every corner to preach about the fury of the Three and the laws with which they governed the world. Offering bowls were, of course, beside each priest and their speeches were peppered with wails of frustration over the state of their churches and how displeased the Three were with their paltry altars. Something that, no doubt, could be fixed with coin.

It'd taken her own money in the right hands to find out the truth it of. The king's pet wizard had found his leash being tightened too far and appearing too similar to a noose. Rather than see if the leash would be hung on a high rafter, he'd left, taking his entire tower with him.

Tracking it down had been difficult but farmers and shepherds tended to notice when fields and forests are burned. Especially if a young shepherd and his flock don't return to his parents due to being obliterated by the sudden appearance of a massive stone structure.

No sentries roamed the grounds but lights filled the various openings along the rounded walls. She scanned them carefully, waiting for shadows to pass while her ears strained to catch hints of the wizard's presence. When she found no signs of a disturbance, she pulled her cloak tight against her body and then reached into a small pouch at her waist.

A single ring lay within the pouch. She pulled it free, turning it in her fingers as she contemplated what it had cost. Over half the profit she'd made from raiding the lord's mansion had gone to purchase it . During her entire career, she'd sworn off of using magic items. She'd traveled with others who used artifacts freely but their very existence made her skin crawl.

Yet, here she was. The ring was crystalline with sharp edges that twisted along its length. It caught the moonlight and seemed to bend the light while slicing it into fragments of subdued green hues on the ground before her.

She hadn't tried it on yet but she'd trusted her seller. Mostly. An earlier scouting trip showed no good stealthy approach to the tower and she had no idea what she would be up against once inside. The job was built on speed - on being the first into plunder what she could find. She couldn't wait for others to explore and provide intelligence.

Her hand shook but she took a deep breath, forcing her eyes open as she slid the ring over her gloved finger.

As soon as the ring encircled her finger, she vanished. Her eyes widened as light seemed to pass through her and she stumbled backwards in surprise. She'd been told what to expect but to watch it happen still startled her.

While falling, she caught sight of her outline. Colors swirled, showing the scenery around her in a delayed fashion until she sat still to blend into the trees and underbrush surrounding her. She moved her arm experimentally, steadying her hand. Moving too fast caused the ghosting effect but when she slowed, she found herself to be almost invisible.

The thief pulled the ring free and she reappeared as soon the inner edge wasn't touching her finger. Exhaling in relief, she slipped the ring back on and then crept forward in a crouch, constantly watching her outline. The effect of it was both mesmerising and stomach wrenching at once - her proprioception felt wrong despite how much she relied on her instincts and reflexes.

When she finally made it to the large, iron-banded oak door at the base of the tower, she pulled herself up and flattened herself against the stones surrounding it. She reached to lift her hood up and back over her hair despite the magic of the ring.

With the tower canted, the door was cracked open, unable to completely close. She turned to peek through the door, leaning to see as much as possible. The room was lit but empty aside from a bookshelves covered with tomes. Steps set against the inside wall spiraled up to the floor above.

She slid sideways to press her right foot and hand against the inside of the heavy door. With her back to the wall, she grunted quietly and pushed until the door opened enough for her to slip inside.

Once inside, she slowly glanced down her body to ensure she still blended into her surroundings. Despite the warm light provided by red stones dangling from rope netting, she could see the wall behind her and the flooring beneath her feet.

Ancient floorboards creaked as she crept through the large room. She quickly moved to step on the ends of the boards, trusting the beams below to silence her steps until she reached the stairs. At the base of the first step, she knelt and began her ascent until she stopped to peer into the room above.

---

A shadow detached from the wall beside a large bookshelf in the room below her. Indistinct arms and legs formed before vanishing to oily black smoke. It seemed surprised to be awake and it turned slowly, questing for the source of its disturbance. Finding none, it expected to be pulled back into slumber but was frustrated when it remained awake.

The shadow floated through the room, carefully searching before it approached the stairs

---

Yes! the thief silently shouted with glee.

The second floor was as barren as the first and she'd had to continue to the third before finding anything of interest. A fortune in gems were strewn haphazardly around the room. She found herself disgusted by the apparent disregard of the displayed wealth but her excitement pushed everything aside.

As carefully as possible, she stepped into the room, eyeing the interior for guards. The emptiness of the tower was beginning to bother her and she felt the urge to leave rising. The only thing that kept her moving was the thought that the teleportation of the tower had perhaps left nothing for him to summon magical guardians. Or, better yet, that the wizard was dead and the removal of the tower was an emergency procedure.

Regardless, she stood, raising herself slowly while grabbing the empty satchel at her side.

---

A low growl formed in the back of the shadow's insubstantial throat as it finished surveying the second floor. It was weary - always weary - but the oath binding it to this realm continued to hold it in place. Faint lines of magic floated in the room but, as it concentrated on them, the residual magic of the tower interfered. It turned towards the stairs and began to climb, feeling for the foreign threads of magic.

The lead was lost as it rose to the third floor. Powerful energies churned in the room, drowning out everything else. It turned, searching for any hints of-

An emerald rose from a wooden cup in the middle of a small table. It flew in a slow, purposeful arc until it vanished in mid-air. The creature focused its energies on the table, the coal mist within its core agitated by its frustrations.

Another gem lifted away from the cup - a translucent gem with a faint violent tint. It hovered and turned. As the gem turned, the room's light filtered through it to show light gray coloring.

The shadow focused further, sharpening its vision as the gem followed the path of the first. It painted a moving picture in the air, showing clothing as if a finger dragged along a steam-covered mirror to reveal the person standing before it.

A thief! the shadow creature snarled.

---

As she moved to a new table, the thief felt the hairs raise on the nape of her neck. Years of honed instincts took hold and she dove to the side when a fist whistled through the air above her. Gems spilled from her bag, scattering along the ground.

The thief came up in a crouch to spy the indistinct shape of a brute, it's form hidden in swirling black mists. Two red sparks near the top of the creature's body followed her movements. She secured the satchel, feeling the weight of it against her hips. Even with what she'd lost, she retained far more than she'd thought she'd find.

With a glance toward the stairs, she tensed, readying to leap past the creature. Somehow, it expected her movement and it flowed toward her, it's heavy foot crashing against her chest as she tried to turn to the side. She gasped as she slammed back against the floor and the breath came with a sharp pain.

Move! Move! she yelled at herself, pushing herself to hands and knees.

A pillar of smoke billowed in the air next to her face. Time slowed as she watched it descend. She could feel the weight of it, as if it pulled at the very fabric of reality next to her. Wisps of coal-black tendrils broke away from the appendage as it screamed through the air with unnatural speed.

Her eyes widened in horror as she tried to snatch her hand out of its path but it proved too fast for her and she flinched away from the expected crunch of bones and flesh.

Instead, her hand flattened and the ring she wore bore the weight of the creature. She hissed from between clenched teeth as the clear ring bent. And then she screamed when it shattered, piercing her glove to embed crystal fragments within her skin.

A painful 'womp' filled the air as pressure knocked her to her side and she slid across the rough wooden floor. The thief looked up in time to see the tiny red sparks of the shadow creature brighten in surprise. The magical outburst from her ring forced the mist away from its form, revealing a tiny black pebble within.

She swore she heard a sigh as the small stone clattered to the ground.

Loud ringing filled the thief's ears as she lay on her side, gasping for air. Finally, she pulled herself up and yanked away her tattered glove to reveal bruised and bloodied fingers. She could feel the shards buried deep in her fingers but knew she had no time to worry about the damage it caused.

Indeed, as she looked her finger over, her left eye turned independently to see smoke lazily gathering around the dark pebble. Her head throbbed as it tried to reconcile the two separate images into one until something new formed within her brain and could concentrate on the images separately.

The thief's left eye swiveled back to her hand and they both widened in shock. The flesh over her wounds was reknitting, healing as she watched. Rather than the light pink she expected, the new flesh was fish-belly white. But, as she turned her hand to marvel at it, she noted that the skin was pearlescent. It reflected a multitude of colors as she twisted her hand back and forth.

Pressure built behind the thief's eyes as they began to bulge from her skull. Her eyelids hardened and the flesh cracked as they were dragged outward. The striated flesh formed lumps in circular patterns around her pupils. They lightened to a white coloring that matched her scarred hand as her sclera darkened beneath them. The bulging eyelids grew over her distended eyes, growing thicker as a faint green coloring filled them. They shrunk to a pinhole over her eyes and orange lines appeared in thick lines from the outside of her eyelids to the inner rings.

Her left eye swiveled once again towards the pebble. Smoke curled beneath it, lifting it into the air to wobble with uncertainty.

Fresh pain brought her eyes forward and she gasped, falling to her ass. She gripped her right wrist as spasms wracked her hand. She could feel muscles writhing within. Her mouth dropped open as her thumb began to lengthen. The thief pushed at it, desperately trying to stop it moving until her left hand flared in matching agony.

As her thumbs grew to match the length of her index finger, the bones and muscles holding it in place moved, pressing it against her pointer finger. At the same time her pinky and ring fingers rotated, the skin splitting between her index and ring finger as her hand separated.

"Gods!" the woman screamed, kicking back. Her skin split and stretched, pink fading to the strange white of the healed skin on her right hand. Dead white flesh grew up between her fingers, binding them into two large but indistinct groupings.

The thief tried to scream again but, instead, gagged as her tongue thickened in her mouth to press against her uvula. She could feel it against the roof of her mouth, slick and sticky and oppressively large.

When she tried screaming again, her tongue lashed out, unfurling into a glossy length that speared a loose sapphire. The gem stuck to her strange new tongue as it pulled back into her mouth and she coughed, spitting the red stone out. Two of her teeth followed behind it.

"Goodsh, nooo!" the woman slurred, pressing her strange hands against her temples. She leaned forward with a moan. Her head pounded with pain and pressure built in her skull. Her nostrils burned as her brow expanded, dragging at the skin - stretching it until it was as white as her hands. To the side of her head, her ears pulled back, flattening against her skull as strands of brown hair fell to the ground around her.

Oddly, her expanding skull relieved the throbbing pressure of her swollen eyes but the relief was small as her expanded brows began to grow into a large crests above her elongated face. Her tongue continued to grow as it filled the new space provided. More teeth clattered to the ground, pushed free from her widening maw and tiny, sharp fangs pierced her gums to replace them.

The thief fell forward, her split, clamp-like hands opening to lay flat beneath her. She groaned, pressing her back into the air above her. Her jerkin and the gray shirt beneath pulled tight against her chest, forming themselves to her large breasts.

She twisted her head back and forth as the skin beneath her chin began to sag.

A single stitch popped against her side. She felt as if someone had dug their fingers into her body, dragging her flesh up and back with harsh movements. Another stitch popped when her back expanded, the bones of her spine lengthening above her as the spine itself was pushed outward into a wide ridge.

The young woman kneeled back, pulling at the clothes digging into her flesh. She spread her thighs to sit with her ass against the floor and the bones of her hips throbbed. As she tugged and pulled with her awkward fingers, her nails dragged against her skin. They came free bloodlessly to reveal the tips of claws at the ends of her fingers.

She strained and pulled and her biceps swelled, muscles forming beneath her skin. Readying her for bearing the weight of her body for climbing.

Her clothing tore and she cried out, flinging them to the side as her breasts shook. There was pressure all over her body, pushing against her. Her own body felt like it was straining against itself. The girl's skin grew white as it stretched and then took on the strange shimmering color she'd first noticed on her right hand.

Sweat dripped down her torso as she reached behind herself to feel the rough skin of her back. Her back curved and then grew to a long, wide ridge. She felt the length of it and then groaned as it continued to grow down, bones shifting against her ass. Pulling and tugging and twisting.

The girl hugged her sides as she shook from the change. Her waist was on fire. She clawed at her hips, holding them as if to halt the process but, instead, she felt the flesh beneath moving as her bones widened her waist. Muscle and fat grew beneath her ass and her tailbone snapped with a loud crack. Her trousers bit into her side at the sudden growth.

Exhausted, the young thief let her thick, fleshy tongue dangle while she gasped for breath. Her breasts, always larger than she'd wanted, seemed to pull against her body. She could feel the soft, sensitive sweat-slick skin of her tits sliding against each other as they expanded and she brought her tongue back into her mouth, humming in repressed pleasure as she felt them grow.

Movement grabbed her attention and her left eye again swiveled to see the pebble consumed with dark shadows. It twisted in the air, small yet but still growing.

Something touched the thief's ass and she screamed, twisting to see who was there. Seeing nobody but still feeling the pressure against her body, she reached back, her hands grabbing at the lump of skin straining against her trousers.

The tip of her tail flexed and curled into itself as it grew forth. It lengthened but her trousers contained it, forcing it down. Between her thighs. She gasped and shivered as the narrowed tip slipped between her pussy lips.

Unable to contain herself, the thief moaned. The tail grew quickly, its thickness forcing her thighs apart as it continued to rub and slide against her clit and steadily swelling labia. She reached for the strings of her pants, pulling and slicing with claws until they were loose. Her heart pounded and her mouth hung open as she tried to free herself, to stop the tail from accidentally pleasuring her.

Bumps began to form on her tail as the new skin dried and grew. She screamed once more, in furious pleasure, as those bumps relentlessly slid against her sex. Frantic now, she kicked and pulled at her trousers until she sat naked, save for her boots.

The thief's enormous tailed unfurled behind her, finally granting her some relief. Her thighs, thick now with her still-changing body, were coated with her arousal.

The girl looked down her body. The dead-white skin covering her was darkening into a mossy green color. She shivered, her whole body shaking as a chill ran over her extended spine. In response, gooseflesh stood out against her skin. It grew in patches and waves, small and medium sized nodules that gave her body a distinct textured appearance.

The sensation of her skin changing felt like a million kisses covering her body at once. She moaned and then gasped, curling into a ball as it consumed her. Her tail, still growing, slipped between her thighs and she grabbed it as if it were a raft in a raging storm. The bumps formed a pattern of emerald and chartreuse that covered her entire body.

Bones clicked and screeched and scraped in her feet. Knowing what approached the thief reached down to pull her boots from her feet.

Cramps struck the thief's feet, curling her toes and she nipped at the end of her tail to distract herself from the pain. Her toes dragged against the ground as they all lengthened. While they moved, the three outside toes of each foot pulled to the side. The feeling of her bones rearranging was maddening but she endured, squeezing her bulbous eyes shut as her hands clamped against her tail. Her biceps bulged as she strained against the pain.

She reached out, stretching her legs as the aches slowly began to fade. Her thighs bulged with dense muscle but an odd sensation distracted her. Instead of curling her toes at the end of the stretch, she felt new, complex muscles where the arch of her foot should be. She pushed and pulled at the new muscles and the stretched toes of her feet opened and closed.

The girl lay on the floor, her head pounding. Her entire body itched. She released her tail and rubbed herself against the rough floor, hissing in satisfaction as the wood scratched against her tough skin. Her tail lashed out, twisting and turning on its own until she turned to her stomach to rub the length of her body against the ground.

Instead, she froze in a panic.

The shadow creature was nearly completely formed. Light flared at the top of its head. Two reddened sparks blazed to life and it began to turn as if orienting itself.

The thief's right eye kept watch on the shadow creature as her left frantically searched the room for the closest exit. An opening lay high above a table to her left, to the side of the stairs leading to the fourth floor. She wasn't sure of her new body but knew that if she stayed a moment longer, it would attack.

She readied herself to leap but the shadow creature moved away from her. It floated around the room, pausing at her torn clothes before moving to the stairs. She watched, incredulously, as it began to move up the stairs.

Looking down, she saw why - she couldn't see herself. One of her eyes glanced up to ensure the creature was gone. Seeing that it was, she moved. And still couldn't see herself.

The thief carefully and awkwardly pulled herself to a standing position, her two groups of thick toes splayed out in an angle. She waved her heavily muscled arm in front of her crested, ridged head but the invisibility still held.

And then she felt it. Within her core, along her back, she could feel a light pulling sensation as if she were holding a weight. And was growing tired from the heft of it. With curious, careful prodding, she found she could release it and, once done, she immediately appeared.

Her massive tail pulled at her lower back but her leg muscles shifted to compensate as she moved. Glancing up at the ceiling, she made a decision. As quietly as possible, she retrieved her satchel and gathered the loose gemstones before slinging the bag over her neck. She walked to the wall beneath the opening and then grabbed at the rough bricks lining the wall.

Although she half-expected to fail, her grip was powerful and she instinctively grabbed at a lower brick on the wall with her foot. With a final backwards glance at the stairs, she climbed the wall and struggled through the opening.

The cool night air thrilled her naked body until she made the mistake of looking down. Squeezing her eyes shut, she began to climb down, lowering herself with surprising speed as her hands and feet found exposed stones with accuracy.

As soon as she touched the ground, she ran with an awkward loping gait. She only allowed herself time to relax when she reached the trees and, even then, one eye turned to watch the tower.

This. This is what I get for using magic, she chided herself. Never again. Never. Again.

She patted the full satchel at her side as she began to pick her way through the forest. A village was nearby and she was fairly certain her skillset and new abilities would allow her to steal some poor woman's clothing. And then she had a certain magical artifact seller to track down and have a word with.

While she walked, her tail curled and uncurled as she imagined herself strangling him with it until he turned her back.

Although, she thought to herself. Enhanced climbing and true invisibility would be awfully useful. Maybe...
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Unread 10-02-2021   #35
LycanDope
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Solo Play Ch. 01 [female / dog girl]
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A young woman enjoys some time alone with her curse.

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"No, I love you," Olivia said, wrinkling her button nose at her husband. She held her phone directly in her hands. Her legs were crossed and her thick comforter covered her lap. Beneath the blanket she wore only her white panties. She'd stolen her husband's Captain America t-shirt and her nipples pressed against the cotton fabric.

"I should be home in about an hour if everything goes well," her husband told her. His face filled her phone's screen and he scratched at the beard he was starting to grow.

She'd be hounding him to grow one despite how much he liked to be clean shaven. She hummed quietly to herself as her eyes flicked across his jaw, memorizing it.

Imagining something entirely different than what she actually saw.

"Just come back to me," she told him. Her plain gold wedding band clicked against the plastic body of the phone. She fiddled with it briefly, still unused to how it felt on her finger. "I'll keep the bed ready. All curled up waiting for you to return."

Her husband's smile warmed her. He blew her a kiss over the video call and then hung up.

Still humming, Olivia lay her phone on the nightstand. She pulled the blanket back, shivering in the cool evening air. The image of her husband's short beard - brown with flecks of red made her happy.

The young woman walked through their small apartment, stepping on the soft carpeting until she opened the utility closet. She moved clutter around until she found where her husband hid the handheld vacuum. Unhooking it from the charging platform, she turned to walk back to the bedroom.

Once there, she pulled the blanket completely off the bed to leave the bare white sheet beneath. She carefully set the vacuum on the nightstand next to her phone and then sat back on the bed.

She'd stolen her husband's pillow so she could lay back against their padded headboard and she rested her hands on her bare knees and closed her eyes. The ends of her long, blonde hair tickled the bare skin of her neck.

He was in her thoughts. His strong jaw. The short beard. She could remember his clean face and she changed him in her mind. His beard was more than that - it was fur growing on his face.

Olivia whimpered, frowning and biting her lip as her fingers twitched on her knees. She automatically began to stroke herself, her nails lightly clawing the inside of her thighs.

It was fur in her mind. He was on his knees in shock, staring up at her as his clean face became overgrown with it.

Another whimper escaped her lips. Her right hand slid up her thigh to touch her pussy. She could feel the arousal growing.

It started with her heartbeat, low and hidden as it matched the rhythm. Her finger caressed her labia, rubbing gently back and forth.

Fangs now, in her mind. His mouth open and his tongue sliding forth as his canines sharpened. His eyes were changing color and the panic was being replaced with lust as his pants bulged.

Olivia's right leg jerked as she pressed hard against the lips between her thighs. She was already wet. And hot. Soaking herself at the thought of her husband changing.

The rhythm was altered now. Pulsing. Spreading. She growled, licking her lips as her left palm pushed against her lower stomach. The pulse filled her, raising every single hair along her body. Undeniably strong. After this point, it would worsen until she orgasmed and her mind would start to slip. To become more bestial until her release.

She bent her legs and pressed them to the side while pulling her panties aside.

With her left hand, she grabbed the edge of her shirt and brought it up to her mouth, biting it to hold it in place. To give her a view of what was happening. But, more than that, to give her something to chew on. Something filled with her husband's scent. The urge to bite and chew increased after this point, she'd found.

Her finger slid between her open pussy lips until they were coated with her juices. She pulled back, pressing against her hooded clit. With a moan, she pushed and rubbed, grinding her teeth against the shirt.

The roots of her teeth ached but she held herself back. She had less than an hour. Still, she could feel her canines grind against the surrounding teeth as they lengthened and she sighed at her lack of control.

The woman's hips jerked when she pushed too hard and she released the shirt with a sudden loud bark that made her blush. Her hips were moving of their own accord, rocking back and forth as she wriggled in bed.

Another whine as the wet shirt slid down her too-sensitive stomach. She rubbed her belly carefully until she found the spots. For some reason, she could never remember where they were until she changed.

She found them, one at a time. The skin was tender with tiny bumps just beneath the surface. Her right hand slipped between her aching, swollen pussy lips as she raised her left hand to her mouth, sucking and licking at her fingers.

With a quiet, rumbling growl, she lowered her left hand, swirling her finger against a reddened spot on her belly. The sensation wasn't entirely pleasurable - not yet - but she loved the strangeness of it. Of her undeveloped teat. Rubbing at it as it formed beneath her skin. Feeling the softness of her belly beginning to grown rough. She leaned her head back with a happy sigh as her finger played with the little nub forming.

"Yes," she whined. Over two years ago, her first change horrified her. With each subsequent change, she'd grown more used to it until she grew to love it. To need it. Some days, she found herself distracted, counting the minutes until she could run home for a quick change before her husband was home.

And some days, she locked herself in her work bathroom, rubbing herself in the bathroom stall as she allowed herself a small change.

She could see her husband there before her, kissing the growing teat. Sucking at it as he played with another one. Feeling his own claws digging into her body as his furred face scratched her bare skin.

Blonde hairs pierced the skin around her spine. She shivered, grinding her teeth as she tried to stop them but she was too wound up to prevent it from happening. Her ass pushed back against the pillows as she arched her back, unable to stop herself as the soft fur spread up to her shoulders.

"Fuck!" she squeaked as her finger pressed into her tight pussy. Sweat began to dot her body, a sign that she was changing too far. She knew she needed to give herself a quick release or somehow stop but she couldn't and her finger bent as she forced it deeper.

Her four teats strained at her belly. She shook, gasping as the wet shirt dragged across one of them.

Heat pooled between her thighs and she glanced down, her cheeks flushed red. Tiny golden hairs rose from the bridge of her nose.

Olivia's pink pussy glistened in the light. She forced a second finger inside as she imagined her husband between her legs, his cock reforming. Turning red as his sheath swallowed his manhood. She would whisper to him that it was alright. That she wanted it. Wanted him. That she'd been waiting for him to join her.

The woman's labia slowly became engorged. She brought her left hand down, tapping the swollen, sensitive skin. Pulling and pinching it. Slapping it as she imagined her husband pounding into her in a desperate attempt to knot her.

With another slap, the labia tightened. It was draining of color, pink fading to gray and then the color of dusky coal. She pulled her fingers free with a shudder, sucking on them while scratching at her leg with her other hand. Her fingertips were sore and she growled before sighing. Her claws wouldn't be too far away. She spread her own thighs and bent to watch, amazed as always.

Her labia pushed together until her inner lips were hidden beneath thick skin. She bit her lips hard as her fingers itched to touch herself. To pleasure herself. To fight the heat that began to erode her mind.

She held herself back, watching as skin grew over the hood of her clit. It formed in layers and she felt something shift within as it flowed forward to press against the the puckered skin of her exposed pussy. Golden hairs sprouted around her belly button and among the curl of her pubic hair. She hated to keep herself trim and her hair grew wild down there.

The heat proved too hard to ignore. She reached down, toying with her pussy. Pulling at the shape of it before pressing a fingertip against the place where the labia met. She panted as she pictured herself on all fours with her husband's pointed cock pressing where her fingers were.

She pushed in, rocking her hips. The tightness was incredible when she changed and she worried, briefly, if her husband would fit. Yet, her wetness drenched her and she relaxed, grunting as she pressed deep within.

Olivia played with a teat as she began to finger fuck herself. She whined, her tongue lengthening, sliding down to lay against her chin as she slapped her hand hard against her pussy. She loved the way the pronounced labia felt against her palm.

Especially as she felt it against the soft, leathery pads growing on her hands.

She barked and her legs jerked.

Close, so close, she panted. She had to hurry. She could feel her mind slipping. Losing words as her brain filled with images of her husband. Her changed husband. Fucking. Endless fucking. Pounding. Filling. Mating. Fur and claws and his knot.

Her howl filled the small room but she quickly shoved her arm against her mouth, biting the lightly furred skin gently to try to keep her silent. She bucked against the orgasm and her senses slowly returned.

Yet she couldn't stop herself. She needed more and two fingers joined the first - her husband knotting her in her mind.

---

With a heavy, satisfied sigh, Olivia sucked at her soaked fingers. Her heart pounded as she glanced lazily over at the bedside clock.

Tiny spots of sharp pain pinged inside her belly. She glanced down as she stood and she caught sight of one of her teats being pulled flat.

Now standing, she pressed her legs together to feel her thick pussy against her thighs. They were pink again but still in the swollen shape of a bitch's pussy. It throbbed against her soft skin but she could feel it receding already as it slowly pulled back into her body.

She was humming against as she grabbed the vacuum and powered it on. Blonde fur lined the bed. The young woman sang quietly as she began to clean up after herself.

The bottom of her panties slowly slid back to cover her pussy when her labia pulled back into their proper shape.

Keys rattled against the door and Olivia yipped, running to the utility closet to put the vacuum away.

"Babe?" a voice called out.

"Here!" Olivia answered, trotting to the front door. She wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him. He smiled and grabbed her ass, his fingers tickling the fur that was still retreating.

"You started without me?" He asked with a smile.

"Oh yes," she answered, pulling away and taking his hand to lead him to the bedroom. "But, don't worry. I saved plenty for you."

She sat back on the bed as he undressed. Once naked, she lay back and he kissed her. She sighed, rubbing her face against his beard.

Soon, she told herself. Soon she would share her curse with him. It was getting harder and harder to control herself during sex and she needed a proper mate. Soon.
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Unread 11-02-2021   #36
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Re: Lycandope Story Thread

Solo Play Ch. 02 [female / dog girl]
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Olivia enjoys her change at work and considers sharing her 'gift.'

You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham
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"Olivia!" came a whispered shout. "Olivia, you have to see this!"

Olivia sighed, adjusting her glasses before standing from her desk. She stretched, raising to her tip-toes before walking around the small partition of her cuble. Nodding, she smiled at Joseph across the way and then stepped into Sandra's cubicle.

"I have a meeting in a minute," the girl chided her coworker. "What is it?"

"Look, look! It's soooo adorable!" Sandra told her.

A small video played on the monitor. In it, a long plastic sheet was laid out on vibrant grass and a hose sprayed water along its length. Three children cheered from the side as the camera panned to show a Great Dane with its chest lowered to the ground before the plastic. It wiggled its raised butt once, twice and then ran, leaping onto the plastic.

Olivia watched as the dog slid on the plastic until it reached the end and tumbled to its back. The person holding the camera followed it, zooming in on the dog as it rolled and then squirmed happily on its back.

The blonde-haired woman watched, her cheeks growing red as her eyes wandered.

"Isn't that so funny?" Sandra chuckled.

Normally the older woman shared inane videos from the Internet and Olivia indulged her to be polite but, this time, the bespectacled young woman found herself growing warm. She played with the wedding ring on her finger as she watched the dog roll to its stomach.

"Play it again," she said quietly, licking her lips.

She'd denied herself lately, trying to hold it back. To hold herself back. A single thought had been running through her head, keeping her awake at nights and forcing herself to indulge. She'd almost been caught by her husband. So, she held herself back. It was wrong, she'd told herself. Wrong to consider it.

But it'd been too long and the urge was powerful.

"Okay," Sandra said, pulling the progress bar to the beginning.

Olivia focused on the dog. His form. His shape. The smoothness of his short fur. His powerful legs and the tail arched back in excitement. She watched it run and pounce and then leaned closer as it rolled to show its belly.

She could almost feel the fur. The sleek softness of it. The-

She shook herself.

No.

"You're still coming, right?" Joseph called out as he walked past.

"Y- yeah, I'll be there," Olivia said, shaking herself from her daze. She breathed deeply, holding it back. Ignoring the tickling sensation against her back.

She followed behind Joseph, eyes focused inward. Her black slacks, white button-down shirt and light sweater suddenly felt too heavy. Too hot. Too much.

Focus.

Focus.

The itch slowly faded as she opened the conference room door. It was their small conference room with an oblong table and three of her coworkers already sat on one side of the table near the projector's screen. She eyed them, licked her lips and sat on the opposite side near the back.

Her ears tingled and her nipples itched despite pushing away at the change. She'd been so good at ignoring it. Two weeks was a record for her and she'd almost thought she could keep doing it. Almost. Damn Sandra.

Jack, their CFO, stepped into the room. He dimmed the lights until they were nearly off and then sat at the front while adjusting his glasses.

"Everyone here?" Jack asked, glancing around the room. "Great, go ahead of get started, Dee."

Olivia scooted her chair close to the table. She reached up to scratch her ear and then blushed, forcing her hands down to her lap.

She hated what she wanted to do to her husband but the urges were getting too hard to ignore the longer they lived together. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong. But, the thought of him joining her turned her on far beyond what she thought was possible.

What would he be? She asked herself as Dee began to talk. A Great Dane like the video? Powerful and sleek? And. And thick? Down there? God. God dammit.

Just from the video and the brief thought of him changing, she could feel her wetness and the scent wafted up to her nose. To a sense of smell that was suddenly stronger than it should be. Flecks of black appeared in her small nose and her teeth began to ache. She was certain everyone could smell her.

Maybe. Maybe just a little.

Olivia glanced around the room as she reached for the zipper at the front of her pants. She pulled slowly, lifting it away from her mound. Since she'd begun enjoying her change, she'd let herself grow wild and her pubic hair was thick, spreading over her labia and covering her mound in soft, curly blonde hairs.

She reached into the fly, toying with her hairs. Twisting and pulling and stroking herself carefully. The hairs moved. It was easy to miss but she could feel it - could feel her fur piercing her skin and tangling with her hair. She placed her left arm on the table and stared ahead with a fixed expression.

Focus. Focus. Keep it small. Keep the changes small.

Olivia shivered as tiny hairs grew between her shoulder blades, tickling her. She ignored it, breathing evenly as she pressed her hand forward beneath the band of her panties.

The young woman stroked her labia. In her arousal, they'd begun to swell and she bit into her bottom lip while adjusting her glasses with her left hand. She loved the feel of it beneath her fingers. She was so soft and smooth there, despite the wild hairs. And it felt-

A soft growl sounded at the back of her throat.

Her lips slid against her panties. She separated her fingers, index and pointer to one side, ring and pinky to the other side so she could feel both of them. Until she was unable to help herself and her index finger pressed beneath her swelling lips. They shrunk as they grew, their softness solidifying beneath the blood filling them. The blood and her heat and her change.

Her labia pushed out and she pulled at them, unable to stop herself from shuddering. Her nails - kept short once she started letting her hair grow out - scratched against her soft thighs. Claws now. Almost.

Pulling her hand free, she zipped herself up and tapped the table gently next to Joseph with her left hand. She mouthed "bathroom" and then stood to slink from the room.

Once free, she hurried through the hallway to the private executive bathroom, locking the door behind her. She wasted no time in unbuttoning herself and pulling down her pants. She bit at her shirt to pull it up slightly as she sat back against the handicap railing while facing the mirror.

To watch herself.

Dark blonde hairs lined her lower stomach and her sex was the color of rosewood. As she watched, it darkened further until her blackened swollen lips lay exposed. Clear liquid seeped from her lips.

She loved watching herself because she could imagine both sides. Without a mate, she needed to pretend to be both and she pictured a male behind her, watching her pussy as he entered her. Imagining those strange lips opening around a hard cock.

Olivia whined as she drooled onto the shirt she held between sharpened canines. She raised one leg to rest it on the railing set against the wall to her right.

She wore heels with straps and she curled her toes as the straps pulled tight against her feet. Dark gray skin covered the bottom of her toes and she could see the edge of the emerging padding along the balls of her feet. The young woman anchored herself with her left hand and then released her shirt.

Her tongue was getting too big to contain without drooling everywhere. She let it free, feeling it wet and warm against her chin.

The back of her shirt rubbed against her skin. No. The back of her shirt rubbed against the tip of her tail. It surprised her but she welcomed it despite the danger. It had been a while and she missed it - one of the more obvious signs that she wasn't human. Not entirely. She felt it against the top of her ass cheeks, the downy fur fuzzy against her smooth skin as it wagged.

She focused on herself, leaning back to watch as she pressed a finger against the three folds of her thick pussy. She could feel the tip of her claw but she didn't care. Her finger slipped inside as she moaned, her throat vibrating into a softly groaning growl.

It was moving too fast and too far but she needed it badly. She shouldn't have held back. And she wouldn't now.

She lowered her leg and then undid her shoes to free her feet, standing on the thick padding that now lined her soles. She knelt, bracing herself on her left forearm before shoving her ass back against the wall.

Pretending her mate was there. She raised and lowered her hips, groaning as her sex rubbed the wall. As she marked it. Her glasses slid from her lengthening face as her muzzle grew forth. They clattered to the ground but she was lost in her pleasure, too distracted to notice.

It wasn't her intention to go this far but she wouldn't stop. She raised herself to her knees while pulling her sweater off. Laying it on the floor next to her, she undid her shirt, her claws tearing small holes in the thin fabric as she rushed.

"Need it," she gasped, her unfocused eyes flooding with gold. "Need it bad. Fucked. To get fucked. Yes. Yes. God, yes."

It was taking her now and she welcomed it. Welcomed the rush of warmth and unfocused mind - as if she were happily drunk.

She struggled out of her pants, pulling and growling until she was free and then she rolled to her side, shoving her clawed hands between her thighs. Rubbing herself with the leather-like padding that was forming along her palm. Clawing at her soft, fuzzy thighs.

Small cramps formed along her lower belly. She turned, grabbing her loose sweater in sharp teeth and shaking her head to fight the urge to bark. Muscle and tissue pushed aside beneath her belly to make room for the milk ducts growing within.

They ached for attention even before they properly formed. She touched the spots where they would stand on her belly, her hands running through soft, short blonde fur. Her tail, thick and furred, wagged happily, thumping the solid ground almost painfully.

As much as she could play with herself, she'd never had a mouth on her teats. Not since that one night. She craved it now. Desperately. She wanted to feel soft lips on her little nipples while being pounded from-

She paused, mid-stroke and her head cocked. Releasing the sweater, her furred brow furrowed and her sharp ears titled back.

It was a new thought. Strange but interesting. Soft lips on her teats. Not her husbands. Not in her mind. A woman's mouth.

Olivia bit into her lip and her finger slipped into her tight pussy. She could see it now. A woman on the bed. Beneath her. Playing with herself as she sucked at Olivia's teats. Giving each of them attention until they were reddened and wet and throbbing in the air. All while her husband's claws dug into her ass and he pounded into her.

Yes, she squeaked, thrilling at the image of it. At the thought of spreading another woman's legs and licking her clit. At feeling it changing and shifting in her mouth.

At the thought of her husband having two bitches to breed.

It was a powerful thought. And a dangerous one.

Her hand sped up and she went to her knees, bracing herself once more. All fours.

Harder and faster, rocking herself back as her fur lengthened. As her tongue dangled. As her tail arched back over her.

Faster. Faster. Until she came and her toe claws scratched against the tile. She shook and shoved herself back before sucking at her fingers, eager to taste herself. She knew she could continue but, with the release, her mind began to strengthen.

Before the changes reverted, she stood in a hurry to stare at herself. To store how she looked so that when her husband fucked her horny brains out that night, she could picture herself clearly. She turned to regard her long muzzle from the side. Her small breasts were almost hidden beneath her thick pelt but her nipples peeked out. Her teats, she noticed, were covered. Olivia pulled the fur aside to expose them, pushing aside thick hair to show her pink belly and the dark nipples.

And then she turned, spreading her thighs with her upper body leaned forward against the wall. The sight of herself drove her wild. Her favorite angle - from behind with her thick black lips exposed beneath golden fur and her tail curled back while standing on her paws.

Reverting back felt like a loss now but she knew it was necessary. She calmed herself as best she could and dressed, glad that she'd worn a sweater so she could hide the claw marks in her shirt. She'd have to throw it away before her husband saw.

As she stepped her bare feet into her heels, she wondered why she'd held herself back. It was who she was. More than that, she loved it. And she wanted it.

At that moment, she decided she'd never hold back again.

She returned to the meeting with renewed vigor and her coworkers barely spared her a glance. Joseph took his turn but she ignored him, instead focusing on Dee.

Daniela liked to go by Dee. She was a shy girl who often hid her smiles behind her hand. Her black hair was loose and she wore clothes too large for her figure. Olivia could never decide if she was ashamed of her curves or whether she'd just never learned how to shop for herself.

A part of her had always wanted to draw the girl out. Now she wondered - was it just to talk to her more? Was it attraction?

Dee glanced at Olivia and then looked away quickly before Olivia could smile back.

In college, she'd experimented with a female friend of her roommate. She'd enjoyed herself but never took it further as she'd been more attracted to men. Still, the thought of a woman sucking on her teats while being fucked made shiver. More than that was the idea of her husband with her and another woman. Of the three of them - changed and enjoying the pleasures of their changes.

Thinking of her husband losing himself in it, plunging his cock into Dee and then switching to Olivia - the thought was intoxicating. She could picture herself shoving the other girl's head down to her pussy, watching as the other girl was fucked. Watching as fur grew from the woman's bare back as her husband's knot pounded against the other girl's pussy. As the other two howled from the pleasure of the changes.

They would, she knew. From her own experience. Her own first change was burned in her mind. A night of drunken sex, terror at the start of her changes and then losing herself to the insane heat. It was addictive. It wouldn't matter what they thought. They would come to love it. To want it.

Her face flushed and she sighed with in involuntary breath as she pictured them.

They would come to need it.

After the meeting, Olivia collected her things and lagged behind. She waited a few moments before walking over to Dee's desk and saying hello. The short, curvy girl was surprised when she stopped by but her smile was genuine and Olivia clawed at her own thigh.

"Hey Olivia," Dee said. "Did you need something?"

"Oh," Olivia answered. "I just thought I would say hello. We don't chat much and I'd like to change that and get to know you better."

"Oh! Okay!" Dee said, absentmindedly toying with the collar of her own shirt.

"Maybe we could even grab lunch," Olivia told her, her eyes dipping to the girl's surprisingly large cleavage.

"I'd like that," Dee told her. "I'm still new here and it's hard for me to make friends, you know?"

Olivia reached out to touch the other girl's knee gently, feeling a thrill as she did. As she pulled her hand back, a short claw pulled at Dee's stocking, cutting a tiny hole in the fabric.

"Well," Olivia said, her voice husky with desire. "I think we could be very good friends. I'll just go grab my purse."

Focus, she told herself.

Focus. Hold it back. Not yet, he repeated. Grabbing her purse, she took a deep breath, scratching at her right ear. Plenty of time.
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