Drained (Patreon)

The first of the three recent snippets from the high tier crowd.  I'm hoping to work through these faster than the previous round so, here you go!   This is the last of the stories for May.  Man.  How time flies.

"Order for me," I tell her.  My best friend, the bold one out of our small group, stands before me in the short line at the coffee shop.

I duck my head into my thick scarf to hide my face but it only covers me to my nose.  The queue moves so I take a step but still hide behind Erica.  She's tapping furiously on her phone so I nudge her gently.

"Hey, order for me, please?" I ask again, casting a quick look at a small empty table far in the corner.

"Are you going to the bar with us tonight?" Erica asks, her voice muted as her phone distracts her again.

"No, you know I'm not into that," I tell her, going to my tiptoes to look at the counter before bouncing back down again.

Water drips from the ends of my long, curly brown hair.  Melting snow sticks to my sweater but I can already feel a few cold spots touching my back.  I reach out to tug Erica's jacket.  My black gloves tighten against my hand when I make a fist and pull.

"Not into what?  Hanging out with your friends?" Erica says.  She grunts when her phone emits a little noise and her fingers resume tick-tacking on her screen.  Her voice conveys how annoyed she is.

"You're not just going for drinks," I remind her while gently stamping my boots.

"We're not asking you to sleep with anyone.  Jesus, Danielle," she sighs.  "We don't get to go out often enough together.  Come out with us, have a few drinks, relax and then go home.  Alone, if you want."

The line moves again.  We're one person away from the counter now.

"I'm just not comfortable-"

The lady in front of us is already done ordering so now it's our turn.  Erica stows her phone and orders her drink with a relaxed, confident demeanor that I could never copy.

And then it's my turn.  Dean, the man behind the counter, smiles at me.  He's handsome in his own way but he's a creep and I hate that this is the only coffee shop in the area.

"Hey sweetheart," he says.  "A white chocolate mocha, right?"

"Y- yeah," I say, reaching for my purse so I have an excuse not to look at him.  It's made worse that I'm just over five feet tall while he's a monstrous... I don't know what.  Six foot something.

"That'll be twenty even," he tells me.

"Wh- what?!" I ask, my hand shaking slightly as I look up at him.  He smiles and his dark eyes don't reflect the amusement he's having at my expense.

"Or, $6.53 if you smile for me," he finished.

Ugh.  Ugh.  The worm of unease turns in my stomach and I grimace while grabbing a five and two ones to push on the counter towards him.  

"What a shame," he says with an over dramatic sigh.  "I'll just have to keep waiting to see your beautiful smile."

He reaches out with my change so I open my hand below his.  Instead of dropping it, he places it in my palm, sliding his fingers away against mine when he lets go.  I can feel his touch even through the gloves and it makes me want to wash my hands under scalding water.  Instead, I fumble the change into a pocket on my wallet and scurry after Erica.

"He likes you," she tells me.

"No," I say, frowning and rubbing my hand against my leg.  "He's gross and he does that with a lot of women.  'Smile for me, sweetheart' all the time.  It's disgusting."

"Talk to the manager, then," Erica shrugs as she grabs her prepared drink from the counter.

Ahhhh.  That idea fills me with even more dread.  Just the thought makes me break out into cold sweat.  I can see myself standing before them, tiny and vulnerable, stuttering while they stare into my soul.  Contemptuously most likely.  Rolling their eyes while I try to tell them about how this guy harasses me and other women all the time.

My own drink is placed on the table.  I turn it quickly but there's no scrawled phone number.  This time.  

"Are you really not going tonight?" Erica asks as we walk to the corner table.  Her loose ponytail bounces against her black jacket.  In the light and soaked with melted snow, her hair looks orange with threads of candy apple red like some old muscle car.

"You always leave me alone," I tell her while I sit, focusing on my drink so I don't have to look at her face.  I don't want to see if she's upset with me.

"Look, not tonight," she says.  "We'll just go for drinks.  A girl's night out and nothing more."

"R- really?" I ask, looking up finally.  It's sometimes hard to read her expressions but her hazel eyes look serious enough.  

"Yeah, Dany, of course," she tells me.  "Me, you, Ashley, and Jessica.  Just drinks after a long day at work.  And food.  Maybe even pool or darts.  Just whatever we want."

"Alright," I tell her while warming my hands and gloves against the side of my drink.  "Alright."

---

A live band plays too loudly from the small stage set in the corner of the bar.  Today is country music and they're laying it on thick - all sappy songs about heartbreak and first loves.  And trucks.  And dogs.  It's a busy night and even the band can't drown out the sound of the rising conversation.  It goes in waves, quiet for a period of time until one table gets boisterous and the other tables have to compete in order to be heard.

My second mojito sits beside a plate full of french fries.  My chicken burger is already eaten so I pick at the fries while sipping my drink.

Alone, of course.

Ashley and Erica are dancing together but I can already see a few men angling towards them, drawn in by smiles and obvious flirtation.  Jessica already has a man she's dancing with, a large black man that she's teaching to dance.  He's laughing and stumbling while learning the two-step and she keeps pulling his hand tighter against her while standing close to him.  She laughs when he says something in her ear and they spin away, continuing the dance until the song ends and they sit at a table, waving hands to fan their sweaty faces.

I don't know why I fall for it so often.  I guess- I guess I just want them to be telling the truth.  And it gets lonely at home.  And they tried, they really did this time.  But after a few drinks, the music called to them.  I can't blame them, not really.  They tried to get me to dance but it's just not me.

"Your friends?" a warm voice asks beside me.  

I freeze but then glance behind me, at the seat next to me.  The man that spoke is stunning.  Dark black hair swept back over a shaved, perfect face.  Mediterranean perhaps.  He lifts a finger to the bartender before sitting beside me, despite the empty seats around the bar.  His shirt is open to show a hairy chest and equally hairy forearms, muscular but not overly so.

He looks like he's stepped out of one of the romance books I used to read all the time.  Broad chest, sparkling eyes and a slight dimple on his chin.  All completed by pressed slacks and Oxfords that shine more brightly than his eyes.

"Ye- yes," I tell him, shocked that I spoke at all.  He smells faintly like teak infused with a hint of vanilla.

"Ah," he nods, thanking the bartender when a squat, crystalline glass of amber liquid is placed before him.  A large ice cube shifts within the glass when he lifts to sip from it.  "They look like they're having fun."

I turn back to the bar to focus on my own food and drink but I can feel his eyes on me and my heart skips a beat or two.  

"Ye- yeah," I stutter again, sipping my drink just to wet my lips.

"But not you?" he asks softly. 

His voice carries through the music and the raucous conversations around us, as if we're in our own little bubble.  I chance a look at him to see him studying me.  I'm pretty sure he could have any woman he wants here, single or not.  Even I'm starting to get a little light headed and-

"No," I answer, pressing my legs together while leaning closer to my food.

"Ah," he says.  Just that.  As if he understands everything from my one answer.

He takes another pull from his whiskey before he turns to fully watch the crowd, eyes roaming from one person to the next.  I'm- I'm jealous of the attention they receive and I already feel the lack from him.

"It's a meat grinder, isn't it?" he asks me and I feel a stupid flush of happiness that he hasn't forgotten me.  "All of them out there, spewing their pheromones carelessly in hopes to have sloppy, boring sex they'll forget by morning."

"Yesss," I whisper with a hiss, eyes wide.  My cheeks are warm and not from the alcohol.

He understands my issue.  It's all meaningless.

"Base animals," he scoffs before sipping his drink again.  "They've forgotten what it means to truly desire someone.  To chase and be chased.  To feel their soul opening before you as you drink it in, completing yourself as you finally come to understand who they are.  Abasing themselves in a futile attempt to plug the emptiness they feel inside."

"Yessss," I say again, moaning this time.  Lost in the cadence of his speech and the meaning of his words.  "That's what I want."

"Is it?" he asks, turning to me.  Melting me with his searing eyes and the heat pouring from his body.  "Is that what you want, Erica?"

There's amusement in his voice.  And hunger.  And something else.  I can't even hear the others.  Just him.  He's so beautiful that it makes my heart ache.  I swallow, gripping my thigh in a tight fist as my head pounds.

"I could fuck you right now against this bar and you'd let me," he croons.  I shudder at his words, clawing at my thigh while spreading my legs, already imagining him there.  "I could drain you completely, leaving you a husk of your former self, doomed to a gray, tasteless existence until the weight of your own life is too much to bear and you'd willingly beg for more."

"Yes, please, yes," I hear myself say while reaching for him.  But, I can't touch him, no.  I don't have that right.  I'm not allowed.

"Ahhh," he sighs with a toothy smile, mouth full of fangs and sharp glowing eyes burning through me.  "The innocent truly are the most delicious."

I can't help but whine as he studies me with naked hunger.  Suddenly, muscles tighten between my thighs and I gasp, grabbing onto my stool while thrusting my small chest forward.  I don't even have the will to be ashamed of the sudden orgasm.  Or the wet spot spreading on my panties beneath my skirt.

He stands and reaches for me.  Scalding pain floods my body but it's muted, driven back by my need to touch him.  To be touched by him.  

"Come, sister," he laughs, his voice deep as smoke curls away from his black lips.  "Be reborn."

His kiss ignites a fire within me.  I gasp and try to scream but his mouth covers mine.  I feel his tongue flicker against the roof of my mouth before it twines around my own tongue.

He breathes molten steel through my core, searing my bones and flesh until I'm left with nothing but pain and the desire to be ripped apart by him.  He growls and his claws tear at my skirt but he restrains himself, snapping his jaw shut.  My hand reaches blindly for the bar stool as my knees threaten to buckle.  I can't think.  I can barely remember to breathe.  

Claws at my chest now, beneath my breast.  I want nothing more for him to tear my dress apart and fuck me here.  Right here with everyone watching, just like he said.  Just like he promised.  I can hear his snarling.  I reach for his hand to guide him to my breast but he pulls back.  And turns.  Walks away from me.

I'm powerless to stop him.  Unable to move.  My own heart beat echoes in my ears, louder than the senseless noise surrounding me.  The pressure threatens to split my head open but it recedes second by second, bringing the music and conversations back with it.

Stumbling backwards, my ass hits the bar stool, keeping me from falling completely.

"-alright, ma'am?" the bartender asks from miles away.

"Yes," I croak.  My throat is sore and it hurts to breathe.

I'm uncomfortable in my own skin, as if I'm wearing it and it's ill fitting.  My nerves are tiny flares, burning along every inch of my body and my thighs and panties are completely soaked.

Taking a shuddering breath, I down my drink at once, hissing as steam escapes my lips, coiling and twirling before the spinning ceiling fans far over head pushes it away.

Pain bursts along my spine, forcing me to lower my head.  I brace myself on my forearms against the bar while clawing the wood with my nails.  Ebony ink forms beneath the skin over my spine.  I want to tear my clothing away as it spreads in a thin, perfect line, up to my nape and then down.  Torturing me with its slowness.

Strange holes open in my vertebrae when the darkness spreads over them.  The agony begins to fade when it reaches my lower back until invisible hands reach into my waist and twist with a loud crack.  I snarl and raise my chest with my teeth grinding together and my back bowed inward.  The line ends at the crack of my ass but not before two new marks diverge from the streak, just below my shoulder blades.  They angle outward, burning my skin before slowing to a stop mid-back.

Sweat drips from the tip of my nose down to the bar.  I'm breathing through my mouth but the pain is nearly gone now, leaving me with an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and loss.

When I can control my arms again, I gesture to the bartender and he brings me a receipt to sign along with my credit card.  

My friends dance behind me, forgotten as I grab my coat and scarf, bundling up while walking to the exit.

Steam rises from my clothes when I step into the cold air.  I leave a trail as I walk to my car but it fades to nothing before I unlock my door and slip inside.  My mind wanders while I drive and my body takes over, guiding me home without thought as I try to remember the night.  It's a strange, frustrating struggle.  I remember my food.  I remember Jessica sending a drink to a man at the end of the bar.  I remember Erica trying to get me to dance but then, nothing.  

My hand, resting against my thigh, slips beneath my skirt while I think.  I touch myself, rocking my hips slightly when I brush my swollen lips and the clit above.  I gasp lightly when I rub my clit with my thumb, circling it slowly while sliding fingers between my pussy lips.

Blood rises to my cheeks and chest while I lean back to play with myself, something I've never done in my car.  I'm so wet that my fingers keep slipping into my pussy, making me gasp and moan every time.  

I pull into my driveway and park before springing out of my car, eager to get under covers to masturbate.

Hunger rises within, nibbling at my stomach as I unlock my door and step into my house.  I shrug out of my jacket, drop my purse and toss my scarf, letting them all lay carelessly on the ground.  As I walk to the kitchen, I kick out of my pumps.  Cum dribbles down my bare legs.

I stop by the thermostat, lowering the temperature before pulling my shirt off.

The blood infused patch of skin on my chest hasn't faded in color.  Instead, it's spreading, reaching scarlet tendrils down to the smooth swells of my small breasts and around my chest.  And up to my throat, leaving me with a flushed look.  Directly in the center of the patch of skin, it darkens and solidifies into a dark crimson blot, just above my bra.

I pace, walking to the pantry to stare within before opening my fridge to look at the paltry contents.  Nothing appeals to me, despite the discomfort in my belly.  Back to the pantry and then once more to the fridge before opening some cupboards, going up to my toes to peer within.

Despite the strange craving, I can't stop touching myself - idly reaching beneath skirt and panties to play with my clit.  I'm so incredibly swollen that my clit bulges outward, begging for me to touch it.  I oblige, leaning against a counter.

My tongue touches my front teeth and bottom lip while the corners of my lips curl into a slight smile.  A line forms at the very tip of my tongue when I lean my head back, lost in pleasuring myself.  I bring my hand to my mouth, licking my cum eagerly before shoving my fingers inside, moaning as I suck on each of them.  

The split at the tip of my tongue deepens, forcing the rounded edge to bulge into two bumps as it presses into the flesh.  The two individual bumps work independently of each other as I lick my fingers.  

It isn't enough.  I unzip my skirt, letting it fall to the floor while pushing my panties down over thin thighs and ankles.  

"Mmmm, fuck," I whisper, the curse word sounding strange on my lips.  I smile and walk out of the kitchen, turning towards the hallway and my bedroom waiting within.  

Keratin oozes from the strange holes lining my vertebrae until small bumps tip each of them, pushing against the skin above.  Beneath the angled black lines below my shoulder blades, new muscles form, taking root over the thin bones growing within.

I throw myself into my bed, rolling to my back with my legs spread.  My heels press into the mattress and I lift my narrow hips while frantically rubbing my right hand between my thighs, grinding my palm against my exposed clit.  

A small cramp seizes my stomach but I ignore it as I thrust fingers inside, screaming loudly while making myself cum over and over until I collapse, exhausted.

Somewhat satiated, I rub my forehead, squeezing the sore skin on either side of my brow as my eyelids grow heavy.

---

A knife slices through my guts, waking me from a dream filled with roiling waves composed of writhing people filling the air with screams and shrieks and the unmistakable cries of lust.

I groan and sit up, looking to my nightstand for my cellphone only to find it not sitting on my stand.  Now that I'm awake, I vaguely remember leaving my purse at the door.  The darkness in my room tells me it's too early so I push myself out of bed, cradling my stomach as I walk bent-back to the front door.

The floor was surprisingly warm considering I could see snow falling outside.  However, it's a small thing I barely notice as I grab my phone, a full minute before my alarm is set to go off.  I silence it ahead of time and then lower myself to sit naked on the bare floor.  My pussy aches but it's nothing compared to the periodic cramps tearing through my guts.

My period was a week ago so this doesn't make sense.  With a deep breath, I stand and walk to the bathroom to sit on the toilet.  Waiting.  Sweat dots my brow.  The cramps were subsiding but not completely, instead becoming a more frequent throb rather than a stabbing pain.  I stand and wipe carefully but find no blood.  Thankfully.

The mirror shows me a disheveled young woman with a bright red patch of skin on her chest.  I touch the center, right where the coloring was darkest.  It feels warm to the touch so I step closer to the mirror.  The spot is about an inch in diameter until it slowly fades to my natural skin color around my throat and tits.  I swallow, rubbing the roof of my mouth with my slightly split tongue before pressing a fist against my stomach.

"That can't be normal," I tell my reflection, rubbing the skin.  It feels different, somehow.  Softer.  Smoother.  More... tactile and exciting.

Distracted by my chest, I miss the bones shifting in my face, raising my cheekbones while my chin grows narrow.  A mole below the corner of my mouth melts away while a few premature wrinkles on my forehead smooth out, leaving perfect skin behind.

The millions of cracks covering my hair follicles fill out, healing while pulling my curls tightly together.  The dull color of my hair gives way to a brilliant sheen of thick locks that lock as if I'd just stepped out of the shower.

A quick spike of pain in my stomach makes me squeeze my eyes shut.  Behind my eyelids, amber lines explode out from my pupils to my sclera, slicing through my iris to leave fractured yellow cracks in my brown eyes.  When the cramp fades, leaving the dull angry soreness behind, I open my eyes and breathe out.

It only takes a moment to send a quick email to my office to let them know I'll be coming in late.  A few more clicks show the nearest urgent care opens in an hour.  Plenty of time to freshen up.  And maybe... maybe masturbate.

Or eat.  I feel so hungry.  My stomach throbs angrily so I leave the bathroom, walking naked through my house.  Something I rarely do.  Cold air surrounds me but it does nothing to me other than caress my nude body, sliding over the heat I'm beginning to produce naturally.

Yet again, nothing looks good in my kitchen.  None of it sounds satisfying.  I grab a protein bar, munching on it out of habit more than anything else while pacing along the cool tile.  The hunger pains remain but I don't want to eat more.  Instead, I push myself through my morning routine.  I'm starting to wonder if I'm imagining things because, aside from the pain in my stomach, I feel fine.  Great, in fact.  Really, really fucking great.  Really-

I masturbate in the shower.  I've got the cold water completely turned off and the hot water cranked all the way up with a mental note to increase the temperature on the water heater later.  Steam floods the bathroom as I lay in the tub with the shower head pulsing against my clit. My other hand reaches beneath my thigh and ass with my fingers deep in my pussy.  It's so fucking good.  So amazing.  I can't count my orgasms and I never want to leave the tub but the pain is starting to increase in my stomach and I'm getting weirdly frustrated.

This isn't enough.  I need-

"Cock," I breathe out, moaning at the thought of it.  Filling me.  Pounding into me.  My stomach groans and grinds and the invisible knife slices through me once more.  

I'll go to a sex shop.  After work.  I'll get a dildo.  A big one, oh god, yes, a huge one.  That'll be enough.  My first one.  Just the thought of it makes me scream as I cum again.

My eight relatively dull premolars fill out as enamel gathers in the base of the teeth and then outward, drawing out into sharp points that curve just past the tips of my canines.

When the water begins to run cold, I force myself to get out and dry off.  The thick, fluffy towel glides against my bare back and I hiss quietly, raising it to scratch at the slightly bulging muscles below my shoulder blades.  The skin shifts back and forth against the towel and I pull hard, scratching the itch deep beneath the surface.  And then further down, grinding the towel against my bumpy vertebrae until I reach a sore spot above my ass.  

Patting myself dry between my thighs, I get the urge to masturbate again and I indulge myself, dropping to my knees while bunching the towel and riding it, shoving my ass back and forth with my hands planted before me.  More orgasms.  Normally I get tired but I hunger for more.  Something more substantial.  The pain increases, pulling me out of my own head and the fantasies trying to take shape within.

"The dildo," I tell myself, cupping my breasts while squeezing them and smiling at the idea of it.  

It takes effort to drag myself up but I do and I continue getting ready until I'm at the door, kicking my feet into a different set of pumps, darker in color than the ones I wore last night so it matches the black slacks I'm wearing now.  Unless the doctor tells me I'm dying, I'm going to work right after.

Wind howls around me when I step outside, assaulting me with thick snow.  I turn my face to the wind with a smile, relishing the cooling feel of it while shrugging out of my jacket to lay across my arm.  Steam puffs away from my body, pulled away by the wind before they're made visible to the eye.

A faint, rhythmic clicking of bone against bone within my hips is swallowed by the raging snow storm.  I laugh in the face of the storm while catching snowflakes with my tongue.  It undulates and lengthens while growing narrow and the split tips flick.  With a last joyful spin, I hop into my car, crank up the air conditioner and drive slowly through the snow covering my driveway.

---

The parking lot for the small urgent care was almost entirely empty when I arrived.  I parked as close as I could, watching for handicap signs half-hidden by snowfall.  The cold surrounds me without touching me as I make my way inside and up to the front desk.

I pass my ID over the desk while the receptionist gathers paperwork on a clipboard.  After answering a few questions that she types into the computer, she hands me the clipboard with a smile that falters.

"Oh, I- I love your hair," the older woman says, eyes wide as she stares at me.  Creepy.  But, okay.  "It's so beautiful.  You're- do you- do you use anything special?"

"Uh, no," I tell her, confused.  I can feel the edge of anxiety approaching as she continues to stare at me but it melts away just when I start to feel my heart beat faster.

Huh.

"Just the regular stuff.  Shampoo and conditioner," I tell her.  "Can't remember the name.  Green bottle with a black horse on it.  For both of them."

Huh.

Normally I'd be awkward and trying to run away but I don't feel it here - the unease that always creeps up when dealing with someone face-to-face for any decent length of time.

"Wow," the woman says.  Her hand strays to her throat where she toys with a button on her blouse.

I leave her there, finding a seat far away from the inane home improvement show blasting over the small television opposite where I sit.  The paperwork was simple and quick to finish so I drop it off and turn to sit back down.

A door beside the television opens and a very pregnant young woman peeks out.  

"Ms. Cooper?" the woman says, looking directly at me.  "I'll take you back."

I follow her as she waddles away to the first examination room.  She gestures to a scale by the door so I obediently stand on it to get my weight before sitting in an offered chair for my blood pressure test.  She sleeves a thermometer for me to place under my tongue but barely a second passes before it beeps loudly.

"Huh," the nurse says, looking at the thermometer.  She shakes it and tries with a new sleeve but it beeps once more.  "That's really weird."

After unbuckling the blood pressure cuff, she grabs a new thermometer that looks like a small gun.  She points it at my forehead, pulls the trigger and then glares at the reading it returns.

"What's wrong?" I ask.  The name tag says her last name is "Alvarez" but I'm not sure whether to call her "Missus" or "Nurse" so I leave her name out of it.

"Well," she laughs softly.  "You should be dead.  This says your temperature is just over 178 degrees Fahrenheit.  And the other one just said 'Error'."

She reaches forward to place the back of her hand against my forehead but snatches it away while rubbing it.  

"Umm," she says, hesitating.  "How- how do you feel?"

"Fine," I tell her.  

She fusses with her equipment while stealing looks at me so I focus inward.  I do feel hot.  Not uncomfortably hot but rather the presence of heat.  As if it exists within me and around me and- oh.  There was something new, just beneath my chest.  Something that was centered just beneath that dark spot on my chest.  I focus on it and it shrinks, stealing the heat with it.  It pulses within.  Angry at being restrained.  Waiting to be let out.  Black and red and-

Her hand again, against my forehead.  Her bulbous belly is uncomfortably close and I can feel her warmth.  The hunger thrums within me.

"Weird," she whispers, reaching once more for the gun thermometer.

"How far along are you?" I ask to make conversation.

"Oh, almost a month away from my due date," she says, pointing the gun and pulling the trigger.  "Oh, that's better.  98.9 degrees."

She sets the thermometer down before looking at me once more.

"Do- do you want to feel it?  Her?  The baby I mean?" she asks shyly, rubbing her belly.  I expected her to start asking about my medical history or the reason for my visit but not this.

"Ah, sure," I say.  

She steps closer so I raise my hand, placing it just to the side of her belly button.  She sighs as I run my palm along the taut skin.

"My husband is afraid to touch it," she says in a soft voice.  "He thinks he'll hurt me.  Or the baby.  I try to tell him that I'm not that fragile but he gets nervous."

"Hah, I imagine," I tell her, dragging my hand around.  There's a thrill to it that makes me shiver.  Touching her body.  Touching another person's body.  For a brief moment, the pain in my guts vanishes.

"I miss the touch," she continues.  "Of another person.  Pregnancy does strange things to a woman.  The hormones!  He won't even fuck me."

I look up when she says the word.  She's staring at me and her pupils are dilated.  But that's not what catches my attention.  She's pulled her shirt down to expose her massive, blue-veined tit.

"They ache to be touched," she continues, her mouth parted slightly.  She's massaging herself now while staring at me, squeezing and pulling at her breast as if she's milking herself.  "To be sucked on.  I'm so horny all the time.  I just want to be fucked.  All.  The.  Time.  I just, oh!"

Milk squirts in a thin stream past my ear and she stumbles backward into the examination table, panting and exposed.  

"I- I just- I-"

She pulls her shirt and bra back up but milk continues to flow, soaking the front of her shirt.  I watch as she stumbles out of the room.

What.  The.  Fuck?

Distracted, my hold on the thing beneath my chest relaxes and heat floods my body.  I can taste her arousal on the air and it's one of the most delicious things I've smelled.  I ache for it and now my head is throbbing in time to the pain in my stomach.  I breathe in as deeply as I can but it only makes the pain worse.  Something else tangles with it, a purely masculine scent that makes me hiss quietly while grinding my fangs together.

A quiet knock on the frame of the open door and a middle-aged doctor pokes his head around the corner.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Campbell," he says with a smile as he takes me in.  His eyes linger on my chest before flicking down to my pussy and then up to my face.  

His scent increases and I catch a bulge in his pants as he turns to close the door.  My mouth waters and the pressure increases on my forehead.  It brings queasiness with it.  He's handsome enough.  Some gray at his temples but he's in good shape.  And that bulge.

He flips back and forth on the paper on his clipboard and the one beneath.  With a cough, he sits on a stool, legs spread wide.

"It looks like the nurse forgot to take notes," he chuckles.  "Well, let's see, pain in your abdomen, huh?  When did that start?"

"This morning," I tell him, slowly eyeing his body while breathing in his scent.  My tongue rubs back and forth against my teeth, bumping over my fangs.

"And on a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst pain-"

"About a 4, all the time," I interrupt.  "Sometimes spikes to a 6 but just for a little bit."

"Well, let's take a look," he tells me, pushing away from the little examination table before patting it.  "Hop on up."

I saunter over slowly, feeling that weird little clicking now.  Something squirms within but settles when I hop up and turn, stretching out on my back.  He stands over me.  Staring at me silently.  Swallowing.

His hand touches my lower belly and he presses, watching my face.  His fingers curl, lifting the edge of my shirt to touch my bare skin and I gasp while sliding my legs together.  He presses again.  And then closer to my belly.  And then bellow my belly button.

And then down, sliding his hand over my mound.  

Brown hairs lift at his touch, pulling away painlessly to leave smooth skin behind.  He's trembling and groaning as I lift my hips.

"Can't-" he gasps, swallowing again.  "Can't stop myself."

His fingers brush my clit and I moan, grabbing his arm.  

"Please," he begs, thinking I'm trying to stop him.  "Please, I need- I need to-"

I push him and he slips his index finger within my already wet pussy.  I'm aching with the need for him.  With the undeniable need to be fucked.

I push at my skirt and panties in one motion, lifting my ass until they're around my ankles.

"Oh, oh god, I- I-"

He shoves his face between my thighs and I claw at the table beneath me, shredding the cheap paper cover they use.

It's the most incredible thing I've ever felt.  The first time a man, or anyone else, has pleasured me.  He's frantic, unable to focus on one thing as he sucks on my clit and then down to lick between my pussy lips.  Back and forth and back and forth until I spasm beneath his ministrations, squeezing his head with my thighs.

The redness spreads down my chest and over my shoulders.  Dark spots appear in the scarlet coloring along the base of my neck and along my slim shoulders.  I snarl and hiss, scratching at my chest.  Blood trickles from my fingernails as they lift from my fingers, snapping away to reveal sharp black talons growing from my nail beds.  I snarl again, grabbing at the couch to tear through the stiff plastic and thin stuffing beneath.

A strange energy flows into me, quieting the pain in my belly.  The doctor groans, as if in pain, but he never stops.  I feel his arms wrap around my thighs before his fingers open my tight little pussy.  I gasp and thrust into him when I feel his tongue against the slick pink muscles.

Sable streaks appear in my pussy lips.  They spread outward, black as midnight to cover the skin until they reach my labia.  Fire blooms within those puffy outer lips, burning pink to red to match the spreading color on my chest.  It marches along my body as if a true fire, crackling and chaotic but, like my shoulders, black spots form on my hips and high on my thighs.

He's gasping between my thighs and my knees tremble against his cheeks.  Flesh strains on my narrow waist when fatty tissue fills my flat ass and hips, pushing them outward.  The flat end of the black line down my back is pulled into a spade-like bulge that stretches over a squirming lump of muscle and bone.  It lifts briefly, separating from my body into the tip of my tail.  

My cum dribbles down the table.  I'm writhing and gasping and moaning but I still want more.  I sit up, gripping his head with my claws while forcefully pulling him away.  He grabs at my hips and pussy but I snarl, gnashing my teeth and pushing against him with energy from that strange organ beneath my chest.  He whimpers, shrinking back.

He looks gaunt now with more white in his hair but I don't care.  I grab at his pants, undoing his belt and pulling down with a low moan when his cock pulls free.  Despite his suddenly emaciated form, his cock is thick and purple and trembling in my grasp.  I lean to it, rubbing my cheek along his girth before reaching the base and opening my mouth.

The split at the tip of my tongue deepens again and my forked tongue wraps around his cock.  Every nerve in my body burns and a roaring fills my ears.  He's moaning and mumbling as I lift my head, flicking my tongue against the veins bulging along his length.  Pre-cum dribbles down and I shudder when I taste it against my tongue.

"Hurts," he gasps.  "Hurts so good.  Hurts."

My mouth opens over the head of his uncircumcised cock.  Bones pop in my jaw and it opens further.  Once more, my tongue lashes out, coiling around his cock as I lower myself, breathing through my nose in anticipation for the taste to come.  I grip the base tightly, squeezing and pumping like I've seen in the few pornos I've watched but my body movies independently, forcing my head down while my tongue slithers along, pulling and milking while my wet mouth bobs up and down.

And down further.  I feel him at the back of my throat and wince slightly, ready to gag but nothing comes and my throat bulges when my lips touch his ballsack, bottoming out.  He grabs my hair, pulling and pushing to guide me but my body knows what to do.

Skin flows beneath the tips of my ears, dragging them up to sharp points that disappear beneath my thick hair.  

Movement against my ass startles me when the flat tip of my black tail brushes my full, curved ass.  It reaches, desperate to slide between my ass cheeks and the pussy waiting below but it's too short and instead, caresses my ass.  I reach down with my free hand, pressing my two middle fingers into my pussy, sloppily pounding into myself as I suck the doctor's cock.  Liquid drips freely, racing down my fingers to create a widening pool of cum on the ground that sizzles and burns the tile.  

"Need- need to cum," he gasps, pulling my hair hard.  "Please.  P- please.  Let me cum.  Let me cum."

The organ beneath my chest is pulsing and churning and I can almost hear cackling laughter in the roaring blaze filling my ears.  I buck, clawing his hip hard enough to draw blood while my fangs nick his cock and he cries out but still pushes my head down.

"Doctor?" a voice calls out from a thousand miles away.

So I give it to him.  Release.  I'm not sure how but I pull the flow of energy coming from him, snatching it mentally and yanking it hard.  

His cum floods my throat.  He tries to shout but his voice is a hoarse whisper as he unloads into me.  The taste is like nothing I've had before and my mind goes white from it as he continues to pulse inside my mouth.  Endlessly.  Again and again until I slowly pull free.  

The dull, twin aching points on my forehead flare.  Ivory forms against my skull, anchoring in place and the skin bulges around them before splitting to show the red tips of my budding horns.

The doctor reaches for me but his feeble arms are weak.  He misses and slides down to his ass before laying down on his back.  His cock is shriveled but cum still dribbles from the tip.  I wipe it up with my fingers and suck them clean until he's finally empty.

The pain in my stomach is gone and I'm absolutely bursting with energy.  I jump up and laugh, clawing at my hair and face.

And catch myself in the mirror in the door.

I'm naked from the waist down.  Clear juices leak from my pussy, dripping to the floor and coursing down my legs.  My entire body is a dark scarlet with the exception of random black spots along my neck, shoulders, upper arms, upper thighs and hips.  The redness has crept down to the middle of my thigh.

I squeak when I see something move behind me and twist when I feel the double sensation of it touching my ass and but also feeling it touch my ass. The black spade of the tip of my tail writhes in my grasp, thick and hot.  

"Shit!" I gasp, staring at the tail and then back to the mirror.

Two segmented red ivory horns pierce my brow.  Black lines mark the growth of the short horns.  

I step forward and then frown, staring down at my toes.  They feel- no, they don't feel at all. I try to wiggle them but nothing happens.  They look stiff and fish white.  When I lift my foot and then carefully place it back down, the toes do not bend.  I lift it once more before tapping them down faster and they click loudly on the tile.  My toenails are dark gray and overgrown.

"Doctor?" a voice says.  Scared now.  Feminine.

Shit.

I turn back to him.  He's looking at me and grabbing his cock, pulling at the shriveled thing uselessly.  Drool dribbles from his mouth when he tries to talk. 

The burning organ beneath my chest pulses and I snarl, clawing at it, tearing the loose shirt I wore.  I growl, suddenly angry while I tear the rest off.  My ears twitch with my anger, canting sideways before standing up straight once more while my tail slaps against my ass.

Flesh tears beneath my shoulder blades and I hiss with the pain it brings.  Two dark talons slip through the gaps.  They lay against my back before sliding down, dragging bone and black leathery flaps with them.  When I reach for them, new muscles move and the small wings spread.  I can feel where the muscles are but I can't control them.

The door handle moves but I grab it, easily holding it in place.  

Kill her, a voice whispers from beneath my chest.  It cackles and I remember hearing it earlier in the roaring flames.  The doctor's energy fills me but it's twisted.  Tainted.  Addictive.  Or feed from her and leave her ragged flesh behind. 

I moan and the metal handle groans in my fist.  I can actually feel her mouth against my pussy and the thought drives me wild.  My wings flap again and they seem larger than before.  When I ignore them, they wrap around me with the talons pressing into my small breasts.  Scarlet flames burn down my arms as the muscles flare. White gives way to red that matches my torso.

I want to feed from her, the voice tells myself.  It mocks me in my own voice.  It sounds like me.  My body aches for it.

No, I groan, folding into myself, uselessly wrestling with the urges within me.  No, I won't kill her.  I won't!  Feasting won't kill her!  Feeding from her won't! 

"I'm- I'm calling the police!" the woman says in a panic and I realize only now that I'm talking out loud.

The door cracks when I pull it from the hinges and the woman screams.  My wing spread when I jump for her, grappling her to the ground to lock lips. 

Minutes later I stumble away, leaving the babbling woman behind.  There's a shout from within the waiting room so I turn and shove the emergency exit door open, ignoring the blaring sounds as I step into the snow.

My wings raise, catching the wind and they drag me, lifting me from the ground briefly before closing once more.  

I run on dead toes, leaving a streak of steam behind me.  Just outside the parking lot, I find the new muscles in my back.  I do- something- with them and my wings spread again and I'm airborne, a red streak against the white background.

---

"Girl," Erica says from the small booth in the coffee shop.  "You look incredible.  What did you do to yourself?"

The trick, I found, was a balance.  The pulsing organ beneath my chest was the control.  I'm very much naked before my friend with my tail wrapped comfortably around my waist.  But she sees me as I was.  It's an easy form to conjure since my body remembers it well.  I could maintain it in my sleep now.  The clothes take a little extra effort but hardly any at all.  I have to draw a thread of power from within to maintain my appearance but not enough to mesmerize Erica.  

Voices whisper to me, hissing and laughing and showing me things to come.  Pleasures I've not yet explored.

I can't help but smile in excitement.  The wings laying heavily against my back tremble involuntarily in response before I can settle them in place.  My toes bounce against the ground, click-click-click, masked by the illusion of my shoes tapping the floor.

"Oh, you know," I answer flippantly, twisting the smile into a charming grin that makes Erica sit back.  "Just a bit of makeup."

Haaa.  I can taste her.  Despite restraining my abilities, she's finding herself turned on by me.  Just a bit.  Just a hint.  And I can taste it.  It's difficult not to push.  To not open myself a little more and suggest she crawl under the table to eat me out.  The power is intoxicating.  However, the energy I feel from feeding on them is unlike anything else.  

I won't take her.  I'm no monster.  She's been a true friend since I've known her.

With my head tilted, I look out of the corner of my eye to see Dean watching me.  He takes out a folded piece of paper, stares at it for a moment and then places it back into his pocket.

"I'm going to take a trip," I tell her suddenly.  "I may be gone for a while."

"Wait, really?  Where?" Erica asks.  "When?"

"Europe, maybe," I say with a shrug.  "I'm still planning it but I'll play by ear."

"That's, wow, Danielle, I'm just- It's not like you."

"I know," I say, smiling again.

The city looked so small when I flew past it this morning.  I'd landed near my home, naked and hiding from the neighbors until I broke the lock on my back door.  I was terrified at first and then angry.  I left my home destroyed.  The furniture is broken, there are holes in the walls and almost all of the mirrors are shattered.  The thing inside of me fed on my rage and the voices surrounded me, a cacophony of chorusing creatures   At first, I screamed at them but eventually, I listened.  And learned.

I could fly where I wanted, feasting when needed.  Or I could twist men around my fingers, living in luxury until they were completely drained, physically and financially.

My morality woke when the idea first reared its head.  For a brief moment, I felt repulsed at the idea.  Disgusted at my changed body and the plans I made.  But then, like my anxiety earlier in the day, it melted away when it grew too large.  I worried about its absence until I realized how free I truly was now.  Like dropping weights you never knew you carried and taking those first few steps on light feet.

I was small before, trapped in my small city and my small life.  No more.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" I ask as I stand, casting a smile towards the counter and the man behind it.

My tail unwraps to curl behind me, just beneath my calves while my wings unlatch and spread in a luxurious stretch.  I pull them back before passing a young couple.  I can't help but send out a ghostly thread towards the man, ensuring he'll think of me for years to come while fucking his wife.  He stares after me, already hard but I ignore him as I walk past the counter and into the small bathroom.

I barely have to wait before the door opens and Dean slips inside.  He smells of sweat, anxiety, and cum.

"I didn't think you'd really- oh," he says as he turns to face me after locking the door.

I've dropped my illusion, standing before him as I really am.

"Oh, god," he whispers, grabbing his cock with wide, terrified eyes.  

The voices whisper but a part of my body already knows what to do.  I throw power at the door to seal it and the entire room away from prying, curious eyes.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" I ask him, my voice purring as I walk to him.  

Despite my new body's natural inclination to sway like a model stalking down the runway, the effect is slightly ruined by my stiffened feet.  I toss my hair to show my short horns.  I feel incomplete but, not for long.

"Please," he groans.

"You'll be my first," I tell him as I stand before him.  I reach down, grabbing his cock and he shudders while clutching my arm.  The smell of his pre-cum makes me growl.  "I always wanted to wait.  It should be special.  With someone I cared about.  Someone I married.  I was so small minded."

My power thrums and he grows painfully hard.  I can almost feel the veins standing out on his cock through his pants.  I lean into him and our cheeks brush while my split tongue slides against the outside of his ear.

"I despise you," I whisper.  "You're nothing.  A greedy child reaching for toys he can't have and throwing a fit when told 'no'."

My wings curl forward and he whimpers when the talons press into his shoulders.  His hands reach for my breasts and I allow him to touch, snarling when I feel the edge of his soul, tantalizing and tainted.  Pain lances through my stomach, reminding me how long it's been since I've fed.

"Undress," I command.

He does, stripping his clothes away with speed until he stands naked before me, aroused and eager to please.  His cock is average at best but it's swollen past the point of comfort, girthy and hard.  I moan and claw down his chest before grabbing his cock.

I half expected to be repulsed.  For my older self to rebel and leave me disgusted and full of self-hatred.  Instead, all I want is to be completed.  To have his cock explode within me.  To have the remains of my morality disintegrated in this first, foul act.  My tail lifts and bends and I spread my legs when the spade tip glides between my wet thighs.  I bite at my tongue with my fangs and growl while I pump his dick, squeezing and pulling until his pre-cum dribbles freely.  

"I- I need to cum," he groans and I laugh at him.

He cries when I release him and begs when I walk to the opposite wall.  I lean against it, legs wide and wings spread.  My tail lifts and my cum dribbles from the tip, hissing when it touches the floor.  More courses down my legs when I push my ass back and my feet slide on the tile.

He is both a test and a meal.  The most disgusting man I know.  My first time.  In a bathroom.  It's nothing more than fuel for my power and food for my addiction.  

"Fuck me," I growl to him, looking over my shoulder.  My wings fan the air slowly while he rushes to me and I moan when his hands touch my ass, caressing the black spots and the scarlet skin surrounding them.

The head of his cock brushes against my asshole and I almost push back, suddenly immensely turned on at the idea of violating my ass but I hold in place as he drags it down and against my obsidian pussy lips.  My tail lowers to touch his shoulder and then coils around his neck, squeezing him briefly.  He shudders and then pushes into my sopping wet cunt.

I open to him with newfound control over the muscles within and then constrict, groaning and growling when his throbbing cock rubs against me.  Now I can feel his veins in addition to the  head and I savor every inch of him.  I still expect a hint of sadness that this is how it happens but there's nothing other than joy over feeling the primal pleasure of mating mixed with the steady pulsing energy flowing into me.

Skin widens on my forehead as my horns grow, dark crimson ivory ringed by black lines as they widen and curl backwards over my skull.  He cries out when I nearly crush his cock with greed so I relent and he pulls back, sending me into growling, hissing convulsions.  My tail rasps against his neck as it tightens and loosens back and forth, expressing my pleasure.  

"Harder," I snarl and he obliges, slamming into me and the padding afforded by my thicker ass.  

My dripping juices spatter against the both of us as well as the wall and floor when he begins to pound.  I slam my head into the wall and my horns break the plaster before denting the steel stud laying within.  I claw, tearing more of the wall down until I grab a thick pipe to anchor myself against his thrusts.  The voices are screaming as they share in my pleasures.  My ears lengthen, sliding through my hair until they've doubled in length.  Just the touch of my curls against their growing lengths is enough to make me gasp.  I'm so incredibly sensitive right now.

Skin melts from my toes to show dense, thick bones beneath.  My toenails cover the first joint completely and the dusky gray is spreading, growing up to the other joints while pulling the toes into two masses to create my cloven hooves.  I stomp and a crack rebounds through the small room, painfully loud.

The light flickers above as my hellfire licks against the walls, melting the paint and metal fixtures.  The mirror over the sink cracks and then the sink itself bends when the pipes sag.  Water bursts forth when the sink detaches to crash against the floor but it immediately turns to steam.

"Can't-  Can't-  Can't keep-" Dean gasps.  His hands try to tighten on my waist but they're weak.  Only his thrusting hasn't faltered.  

Mini orgasms continuously crackle inside of me while I feast on him but I'm holding off, torturing myself.  Denying my pleasure until I decide I'm ready.

My tail unwraps itself from Dean's neck before laying against his chest.  The tip slides up, caressing his cheek and then against his lips.  He groans, opens his mouth and kisses it until I press it inside to make him suck on the fleshy black spade.  The sensation sends shivers down my spine.  The bumps over my vertebrae slice through flesh.  Short black spikes curve down and away from my back.

He's throbbing inside of me, far past his limit so I give him permission to cum, bracing myself against what-

I howl with a sibilant cry that blows the lights.  His cum is a torrent that would spurt out of any normal woman's pussy but I absorb it, sealing it away inside my body as I finish feasting on him.  He's trying to talk but it comes out as a high pitched whine while his jerking, ragdoll body fills me. 

Black fur emerges above the edges of my hooves, encircling them as I stomp from one foot to the other and slam back into Dean.  His grip falters as he cums one last time and he slumps to the ground.

I bask in his soul, lost in the overwhelming power it brings with it.  The first of many.

Un unearthly ruby light surrounds me, casting harsh flickering shadows in the dark, steam-filled room.  Dean lays prone on his side, aged at least twenty years and nearly half his weight.  He'll recover, somewhat.  With plenty of time and care.  At least physically.

"I've seen hints of what they do to your kind in Hell," I tell him, squatting with knees spread.  My tail slams against the floor before swishing behind me.  "Visions gifted to me from the voices.  Enjoy the pain of the little time you have left.  It will be a paradise compared to what comes next."

I should worry, knowing that there is a Hell should mean Heaven exists.  It's impossible to know but old Bible lessons rear their head.  I should worry but I can't bring myself to do it.  Whether it's the lack of morality or anxiety or simply because I love every fucking minute of this new body, it doesn't matter.

The seal bends around me when I open the door and walk through, once more appearing as a stunningly beautiful young woman.  The patrons and workers go about their business as I walk back to the booth where Erica sits but I feel their eyes on me.  Their desires are strong even when I withhold myself.

She looks at me and starts to speak but I bend to kiss her forehead, imparting a small fragment of my soul.

"Be well," I tell her.  "Be safe.  You'll have a long, happy life."

I leave without a look back, cloaking myself in shadows once outside.  My wings fill with the wind like black sails, dragging me into the sky until I'm forced to fly further under my own power.  I fly through silver and gray clouds until I burst above them to hover in the still, silent sky.  A pure, silver moon greets me and I stare at it for a moment before diving back down, eager to begin my journey.