Swamp
Swamp:
Disclaimer: Blah blah blah blah. If you are wantering through Yiffstar, you won't mind this at all. It contains a transormation, mass unbirthing and some lactation. good enough? Belongs to me. Any help critism will be accepted gladly, just post it. Oh, and I wrote this at 2AM, so excuse the Bizzaroness of it all. Hopefull this is the first of a long line of transformation stories. Ciao.
Tracey stopped to regain her breath after a long day's worth of trekking, arching her weary back, and wiping the glinting sweat off the pale skin of her forehead, and away from her eyes. She was in the middle of a swamp, in the middle of a National Park, in the middle of God-knows-where. The day had started off fine:
She had the idea of taking a short walking in the park, like she used to as a child. It was only meant to be a quick one, to take her mind of all of the stresses of her daily life. But that changed quickly. After taking an old path that she used to traverse, it became evident that tit wasn't the quick loop through the trees and back to the visitor's centre. No, it was disused now, and she found out why. It met with a swamp, about half-way along, by her guess. Assuming that it wasn't the much of a swamp, due to the lack of any warning signs about it, Tracey tried to cross it, entering a stank world of reeds, reptiles and regret for her choice.
It seemed that she had been wandering around for hours now. Any chance at backtracking to get out was gone, as her footsteps melted away into the mud and midges. There was no other choice but to pick her way through the firmest ground, to try and ford the marsh. By now, she was covered almost completely with the slime from the waters, mud flecking all over her sweaty tank top, causing it to stick close to her ample breasts. Insect bites covered her arms and legs, the latter also covered with scratches. Had she been thinking, Tracey would have worn long pants, instead of the pleated skirt that didn't offer her any protection at all.
It was hell, amidst the humid, stink-filled air, and being ankles deep in the putrid water didn't help anything. At least there are no leeches, she thought to herself, shuddering at the though of the parasites.
The young woman closed her eyes and began to rub her temples, trying to calm down and collect her thoughts.
"Okay," she started, talking to the moist air and the frogs that had taken up following her about, "I'm sweaty, sunburnt, slimy, scratched, tired, I have no water, no mobile phone, and nobody knows I'm here. Oh, yeah, and I'm totally lost."
Pausing for a moment, Tracey realised that her little spiel didn't help her one bit. It seemed that there was no other alternative to what she was doing now: trying to find a way through the hell-hole of a swamp she was in. So it was that she continued to trudge, pushing through the reeds and stepping in the water. Not long after she resumed her walking, the girl was met with a sight that pleased her: A tree.
It was the first she had seen since entering the marsh, giving her hope that she was reaching the fringes. But in the short term, she was more concerned about the foliage on it. Despite being half dead, it had enough leaves to give a good shady spot to rest in. So, she stepped her way through the mush, finding a half-submerged rock that she could balance on. Looking at the base of the tree, she saw that there were several large roots that extended from the trunk into a stagnant, frog-filled pond, with several feet of slimy mud and silt between the tree and the water. The same mud extended back away from the water for about five feet, blocking her path.
It was a bit of a jump, but Tracey knew she could make it. She'd be jumping towards the water, trying to land on a root that was parallel to her own position. Form there, she could sit and rest upon the flat spot at the tail of the root. It seemed like the perfect plan in her mind, and it would have been, save for a crap execution.
The distance of the jump was perfect, however the woman's footwork was less than so. She landed on her right foot, balancing on that for a fraction of a second. However, the kinetic energy of her body kept her going forwards, leaving her no other option but to spring forwards off that foot. An instant later, Tracey was knee deep in mud.
After a short and futile attempt to pull herself out, Tracey began to swear, loudly, her voice echoing out through the swamp. But the suction from the liquid in the soil kept her boots firmly in place, and since they were strapped onto her feet tightly, there was no escape. Tired, hungry, dehydrated and broken, the struggle was soon over, and she flopped down onto her rear in the mud. Her filthy hands cupped her face, concealing her tears from nobody but herself. It was hopeless. Everything was wrong, right from the start. Not only was she lost, but now she was stuck, with what seemed like no way to get out.
A small yet clearly audible splash pulled Tracey from her sorrow. Looking up, the young woman was met a most curious sight: Frogs, and lots of them. The pond was practically bursting with the slimy little critters, and the banks were packed as well. All of them were there, sitting, gently croaking, and watching Tracey.
She couldn't help but give a small smile at this. They were all just so fixated at her predicament, watching, never blinking.
"So, what are you guys hanging around a loser like me for?" she smirked, once again talking to the wildlife. Something just in her lower peripheral vision caught her attention: a flicker of colour. Looking down, Tracey was rewarded with the sight of her own panties, the purple cloth reveal when her skirt flicked up, presumably from her fall. There was a great amount f mud on this also, partly from the fall flicking it up, and partly from when she sat down. A thought occurred to her, taking her mind off her confinement and causing her grin grow broader.
"Why, you sick little bastard! Staring at my panties, and so blatantly too! How rude!" Sighing, she leant backwards, her current position giving her back pains. Mind occupied with considering the absurdity of the frogs perving on her, didn't notice what was happening until it was too late.
With a hideous squelch, Tracey's arms, place behind her to support a reclining position, slipped also into the mud. Her weight pushed them down to the elbows, trapping them as well. Shaking her head and biting her lip, Tracey couldn't even cry. She didn't have the will to do it. Everything was now hopeless. Arms stuck, legs stuck, nobody knowing that she was gone, and a bunch of freaking pervert frogs were her only companions. She looked over her breasts at the offending creatures, glaring at them with all of her hatred and malice. She blamed them for her getting stuck, making her forget herself. But soon her bitterness was forgotten. They were all starting to move.
Like one creature, like one croaking, throbbing, slimy mass, they all moved towards her. Tracey started to feel her heart beat painfully against her ribcage, and her breath become raggedy as they approached. She had a bad feeling about this. Slowly, ever so slowly did they approach, hopping only a couple of centimetres forward at a time. But their destination was clear to see: Tracey's purple panties.
And when the first one touched her snatch through the bright cloth, Tracey screamed. And she struggled, violently. Sheer, abject terror entered her heart and mind at the onslaught of the amphibians, giving her strength and stamina not known before. After the first touched her pussy, the others had dashed forwards, also assaulting the cloth, scrambling over each other, and onto her legs and belly to try and get to their prize.
Thrashing and screaming, they ignored the girl as they pushed up underneath the panties, heading for the warmth of her virgin vagina. The first one pushed into the folds, spreading them and worming up inside of her. Tracey stopped her screams, and her efforts at escape. Her eyes were wide open, staring at her panties, invisible underneath the slimy frog bodies. It was just so wrong, to have the cold body inside of her, pushing upwards, breaking her maidenhead and squirming upwards to her cervix. Others were following the path of the leader, pushing to be the next inside of Tracey. She could do nothing but sit there and watch, and feel the wrongness, the coldness, the pain of the small bodies pushing in her birth canal. And then the pleasure.
This surprised her just as much as everything else. It started off small, at first, around her pussy, just as a slight tingle. It was spurred on by her seeing just how insanely stretched her virgin vagina had become, and the wriggling bodies inside. It spread, slowly, up her spine, down her legs, into her arms, through her womb and belly and breasts. Her nipples perked, hard as diamonds, showing clearly through bra and top. A small whimper of delight escaped her lips. After that, all of her tension and fear was swept from her body and mind, along with the moaning and delightful cooing from Tracey's lips.
The release of tension in her body also released her cervix to the frogs, and they swept into her very womb, filling it with their bodies, no longer cold and slimy, but wet and warm from her juices. The moans intensified, and a vast stream of vaginal juices gushed from her cunt, creating a little more difficulty for the frogs trying to get inside of her.
More and more poured into her womb, pushed her belly outwards, stretching it and stretching it. The moans started to die off, despite the pleasure increasing. Tracey was just transfixed by the size and majesty of her body. There was tension at her waist, as her hips began to shift shape, and combined with the increased size of her belly, her skirt and panties began to strain. There was also a tension in her chest. Looking above her rapidly expanding belly, Tracey gasped in awe at her breasts. They were inflating, becoming heavy with liquid. She hoped, no, knew, that it was milk. Milk for her children.
Tracey was half pulled out the pleasurable discomfort that the ordeal was giving her. Milk for her children? What did that mean? Surely, not that these frogs were- No, it couldn't be. She didn't want to have these ugly things as her kids. Or did she... Tracey's mind was becoming more and more fuzzy, the waves and waves of pleasure was clouding her thoughts. The pieces of human nature were slipping away from her as she struggled to hold onto them... Until she finally realised, she didn't need them anymore.
Giving into the pleasure and the pain, she looked back down on herself, and down on her children. Most of them were now inside of her and no longer moving. Her skirt and panties had been torn to shreds, their scraps obscured by her bulging breasts and belly. Her tank top had finally past its limit, tearing in the middle, turning it into a vest of some sorts. Her bra, however, was somehow managing to contain her ample bosoms. Her nipples, now harder and large then ever, started to secrete a liquid, soaking the cloth before it. She wanted to see her nipples giving this life giving fluid.
Without thinking, she withdrew her arms from the mud, the appendages slipping effortlessly from it. Gazing at wonder at her new appendages, the images of change pushed their way through her lust filled brain: From the elbow down, her arms were no longer the clumsy things they were. Now they were strong and flexible, covered in a bluish green skin, slick and slimy. Turning her hands about in front of her face, she studied the suction caps and the new webbing between her newly elongated digits. Happy at the change, she resumed the task at hand: Removing her bra.
It was a short job removing it with her fine new fingers. It snapped off with the increased pressure, and discarded carelessly. Almost instantly she began playing with her orbs, massaging the soft, supple flesh gently. Her nipples and areolas had grown immense, and a steady flow of creamy milk trickled from her hardened nubs. She arched her back with sheer delight at the satisfaction this was giving her. She had already came three times, her juices flowing down onto the wet earth and mixing with the slime. A small gasp escaped her lips at a sharp pain in her stomach.
Looking over her massive breast at her even larger belly, the creature knew that her human flesh was at its limit. But there was still more frogs left. Looking down sadly at them, she began to think that she would have to leave them outside her body. However, a primeval though came to her. The mud. It had changed her arms, so why not her belly, in to something more supple that could hold all of her children?
Scooping up as much muck as she could with the cup like hands, the creature spread it all over her stretched stomach, straining to reach the extreme reaches of it. The effect was almost immediate. Once again, moans escaped her lips as her belly changed, the skin becoming the same colour as her arms. It started to stretch out again as more frogs entered her womb. Smiling, she scooped up more sludge, this time smearing it all over her breasts, enjoying every single spine-tingling moment of it. The skin of it too changed colour, and her orbs started to firm, ceasing to sag and rising up on her chest.
Delighted with her transformation, more and more sludge was being applied to her body: To her ribs, forming gills along them, to her neck and upper arms, giving them the colour and muscles that were uniform over her body. Rolling her back into the mud, she felt spines start to form, pushing out of the blue skin from her spinal column.
Pulling her legs upwards, her feet, now longer and webbed as well, managed to escape form the prison of her shoes. Slime was applied to her thighs, matching the lower half of her legs, and then finally, her pussy was coated in the stuff, becoming tighter, and bluer. The juices flowed freely as she did this, the creature's rubbings exciting herself.
Finally, the torrent of frogs stopped. They were all in her womb now, stretching her stomach out to the max, and awaiting their final fate. Dizzy with joy and love and pleasure, the creature sat up, and saw one last, solitary toad. Slipping slender fingers around it, she stroked the amphibian, letting it coo softly before plunging it into her dripping pussy, guiding it up, up and past her cervix. With the final frog inside of her, the creature clenched herself, closing her cervix and birth canal.
With her impregnation complete, the creature pulled itself towards the water, which to her looked like a marvellous spawning place. Looking into the waters, she saw a curious reflection: A pal face, unknown to her, topped with dark brown hair. Knowing what it was and fearing it, the creature retreated backwards.
Grabbing another handful of slime, it rubbed it into its face, changing it, and taking away the last humanity that was left in the creature. She moved back over tot he edge of the water, and peered in carefully. She could now see a blue face, with a flat muzzle full of needle sharp teeth. Above the snout was a pair of eyes, large, black ovals set into her face. Above this was nothing but her wondrously slimy skin: no more nasty hair.
With grace and easy unbefitting her swollen size, the creature rose and dived into the pond, deeper then what it had appeared before. She saw, and swam and swam, as the remnants of her clothing and the beautiful slime that had given her the form she desired was swept off.
Hours worth of swimming later, and a belly full of swamp fish, the creature re-emerged at the tree near the water. Pulling herself onto the moist land, she began to collect all of the nearby reads, and the scraps of cloth still there.
Sitting back comfortably in her nest, the amphibian relaxed, feeling Tracey's modified ovum finishing its bonding with the frogs, her children. Hard lumps had formed under her belly's skin, which, while being no less full, had shrunk down considerably.
Feeling the surge within herself, the creature lay back and spread its legs. Juices flowed freely from her taught vagina as she grunted, pushing a lump visible from the outside down her birth canal. Within a minuet, the egg was squeezed out. Leaning over, she licked it clean of her own delicious juices, and then pushed it into the middle of the nest. Beginning to push again, the creature spared one of its arms to curl around her breast. Angling both her head and the milk filled orb, she began to nurse herself, sucking down the thick milk and moaning at the burning sensation in her breast.
Another egg popped out, and she let go of suckling herself to lick it clean as well. When it was with it's brother, she resumed what she was doing. There were a lot of eggs in her belly, she knew. Every one was a frog once. Now they were going to be like her, beautiful, rounded, and full of breast milk and stuffed with fertile eggs. Within a week or two, they would be old enough to birth the eggs. By that time, it would be time to spread further in the swamp. They would all be females, so the creature knew that she would need to find mates for them to continue producing eggs.
Licking another egg clean, she smiled to herself, showing off her needle-point teeth. There were male creatures, the same species as the one in the reflection, within the area. The thoughts of introducing them to the slime were formed instantly, and her mind was set.
The creature that was once Tracey embraced it's fate, feeding off itself, birthing eggs, and plans of capturing and transforming a mate flowed through her mind. And she had never, in all of her life, been happier.