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Heritage

by Chickenboy

The drunken man staggered through the field, a bottle in one hand, his other furiously rubbing his cock through his jeans. He had come so close to getting in the pants of the hot waitress at the bar, only to be tossed out on his ass. Now he ached for relief, trying to keep himself aroused enough to stroke himself off when he got home. Tripping on a rock, he falls face down in the grass, huffing in frustration. In his drunken stupor, not caring to wait any longer, he quickly unlatches his belt and tears down his pants and underwear. He wraps his fingers around his shaft, breathing heavily as he quickly brings himself dangerously close to release, when a rustling in the grass stops him.

Looking up, the man sees what has to be the largest chicken he has ever seen, casually pecking at the ground as it walked past. If he were sober enough to think straight, he might have pondered about such a large fowl, but in his current state only one thing was going through his mind. In one of those spurs of insight only drunk and horny men can have, he sits up on his knees and quickly grabs the bird. It struggled a bit, its size making it a bit difficult to hold onto, but quickly settled as his grip held it fast.

Holding the bird in front of him, the man thrusts gently forward, letting his shaft run along the chicken's tail feathers. The soft, downy feathers made him gasp in delight, the light, tingly touch of them along his member filling him with pleasure. He rubbed back and forth, slowly at first, gradually picking up speed. Soon he was on the brink, a shudder running through his body as he felt himself going over the edge. As he began to cum, he grasped the chicken firmly, thrusting forward one last time. The man feels the very tip of his member slip past feathers, lodging in some warm, fleshy passage. The chicken writhed, clucking loudly as it felt a foreign mass press into its cloaca, its passage flooded with hot, sticky fluids. The man's face contorted in the relieved sensation of orgasm, succumbing to his drowsiness and the alcohol, falling to the ground and losing his grip on the bird. He would awake the next morning, the night lost in the haze of his hangover, not remembering what he had just done.

The hen was free, quickly moving through the grass away from the strange human, lying unconscious in the middle of the field. Making her way back towards her familiar coop on the nearby farm, fluids still clinging to her rear feathers, the animal soon forgot its ordeal as it nested down for the night. When she woke the next morning, the hen was gripped with a powerful urge to get out and begin eating, to held ready her body for the egg she knew would be arriving.

Stepping out into the sunlight, the hen was indeed a giant among other chickens. The farmer had been working to breed successive generations of Brahma and Jersey Giant chicken breeds together, gradually developing bigger and bigger birds. This hen now was the size of a rather large turkey, the pride of her owner who planned to show her off at the next county fair. Moving to the food trough, she began to gorge herself, somehow knowing she would need it. The same instincts were kicking in, telling her she had just been bred by a rooster and she needed to be ready for her offspring. By the end of the day, the hen headed back to her nest, ready to lay the egg as she had before. The problem was, no egg came. As much as she felt like it was an inevitable thing, something else told her it was not the time.

And so it went for the next few weeks, the hen constantly eating and keeping her nest in order. All the while she could feel a definite weight in her gut, growing larger and larger with each day. It got to the point where the hen could barely move, spending only enough energy to go out, eat her fill and return to her nest. It was that night when the hen jolted awake, aware it was now the time. Shifting her weight, straining, the hen began to push as the egg began its slow journey out. Immediately the hen knew this was no normal egg, its size and weight making her fear for her life. Hours passed, and fluids leaked out of her passage as it gaped wider and wider, the first crown of the egg appearing. She pushed and shifted, the egg inching its way out of its mother. It kept coming, until with one final push and a loud cluck, it fell free into the soft straw. Turning her head, the hen looked down at her egg in whatever measure of shock a chicken could muster. It was larger than some of the chickens she shared the roost with. Looking at it, the hen felt exhaustion beginning to take hold, yet she held out until she had nestled the egg, positioning herself on top of it as best she could, before falling asleep.

It was fortunate her nest was tucked into a back corner of the coop, for the farmer never discovered the strange thing it held. It was also fortunate that the others hens seemed to know how special the egg was, helping the larger female in incubating duties. Days turned into weeks, and normally if an egg hadn't hatched by then it would be given up for dead. Something, however, told the hen it was still doing fine. After the long stretch of incubating, though, the egg showed signs of the life within, rocking back and forth as small cracks appeared across its surface.

The farmer's wife was walking out to the chicken coop, basket in hand to gather the daily eggs when she heard the distinctive cry of a baby. Rushing inside, she followed the sound and found a small, baby girl lying on a pile of hay in the corner, looking as if it had just been born, beginning to shiver from the cooler air. Stunned at finding the infant abandoned, the woman quickly wrapped the child in her apron and hurried back to the house, not noticing the rather large shell fragments lying on the floor.

The girl, Alice, had grown up unawares of her true nature. Upon finding the seemingly abandoned baby in their henhouse, the farmer and his wife had called the authorities, afraid that some careless woman had abandoned her child to die. Finding that the baby had no record at all, she was quickly placed with a foster family. She had a normal childhood, attended school and college, eventually settling into her own house with a job as an architect. One thing that set her apart, however, was her particular fetishes.

Alice had, over time, developed into a closeted but enthusiastic zoophile. She had had her fair share of experiences with both men and women, and had found them satisfying enough. All through her teenage years, though, she had begun developing feelings leaning more and more towards bestial tastes. It was as if she was hardwired to not be attracted to humans. Her access to the net only helped to feed her fantasies, providing ample pictures, stories and videos of people and animals doing so many carnal things to each other. As she delved more and more into the online depravities, her tastes began to shift. She had certainly enjoyed her obsessions with dogs, horses and other more commonly done animals, but the true gems in her collection were those media involving birds.

She had on her hard drive perhaps the most comprehensive collection of media on that subject on the planet. Alice would reread the stories, some true some fictional, scroll through pictures and watch the small handful of videos time after time, enjoying them thoroughly whenever she did. There was one tale, written by a particularly imaginative user, of how a zookeeper had fondled and jacked off an ostrich, going into detail about the shape and feel of the animal's cock. Another woman had written an account about her and her pet parrot, particularly how she had trained the bird to rub itself against her crotch, its soft, feathery body bringing her to climax. What set it apart was the full video she had posted along with the story, much to Alice's delight. Even in classical art and literature she found very surprising sources, the legend of Leda and the Swan featuring most prominently. Even her computer wallpaper was of Michelangelo's mural of Leda being ravished by the great white bird. She delved into so many sites searching for any trace of avian erotica. As more and more websites began to display the same things she had already seen, becoming apparent she had found everything easily available online, she turned her attention even more towards the animals themselves. Alice never questioned why she was the way she was, she simply accepted that she felt inexorably attracted to the birds more and more as time passed.

Alice found ample videos and pictures of the birds courting, mating and laying their eggs. To even her surprise, she found these even more arousing, providing the fuel to easily get herself off whenever she watched videos of two birds breeding, or a hen laying her egg on camera. She loved the videos and documentaries that showed the vibrant, virile males as they strutted and showed off for their females, getting excited as they claimed their prizes. Alice swore to herself she could see the satisfaction in the females' eyes as their chosen male mated with them, knowing she would bear his offspring. In time she found the males as attractive to her as any stereotypical rock star or sports icon was to any number of women. Her walls and ceiling were soon plastered with pictures of male birds, carefully placed and admired like pinups, most clipped from magazines or printed from the net. Alice was likely the only person who subscribed to nature and farming magazines to see what she considered the "sexy birds of the month". From the handsome mandarin ducks, to the lanky but lovely herons, to the downright flamboyant peacocks and everything in between, including, in her opinion, the absolutely hunky roosters. Their vivid, colorful plumage just screamed masculinity to her, making her yearn for the touch of their soft feathers, especially the gorgeous barnyard fowls. Of all the species represented, it was obvious the roosters were by far her favorite. She so wanted to live out some of her fantasies, the ones derived from the stories she so enjoyed. By the time she had built her business and saved enough for her own house in the country, she was determined to make those dreams a reality.

She was quick to have her contractor convert the old barn on her new property into a rather pleasant domicile, the lower level restored to individual animal enclosures with a large central chamber, and the upper level made into comfortable, if modest, living space. She eagerly moved in as soon as she got word of its completion, the first thing she did was remount all her bird pictures onto the walls of her new bedroom. The second thing she did was stock up on feed, straw and other supplies in preparation for the harem of male birds she imagined. As coincidence would have it, no sooner had she finished unpacking her things than fliers began appearing around the small town about the upcoming county fair. Special mention was made of the livestock show, which to Alice was an open invitation to go shopping for her first avian partner.

Alice was practically chomping at the bit counting the days till the fair. When it finally arrived, she was among the first to find her way into the pavilion with the animals on display. She made her way past the stalls of prized horses, cows, hogs and others, over to where the poultry was housed. She perused some rather fine looking ducks, geese and turkeys, feeling sorely tempted to get a gander or two, maybe even a lively tom. She made a mental note to look into that possibility later, turning her attention to the prizes she most wanted.

She tried to hide her grin as she came to the chickens' section, seeing the various breeds sitting in their cages. The phrase 'hot wings' took on a whole new meaning for her in that instant, as she felt a tingling in her loins at the mere sight of such attractive cocks. She wracked her brain trying to figure out which one to choose from, the word 'buffet' coming to mind as she browsed the selection. A few of the attendants began to look at her funny before she made her choice. He was gorgeous, a slightly larger than normal brown leghorn. His feathers were vibrant browns, oranges, reds and greens, with perfect strut as he walked around his cage. More importantly, the rooster seemed to exude a sense of masculine confidence, despite the fact both he and the hens around him were all caged. It seemed perfectly plain to Alice, yet all the other people seemed oblivious to it. Having to outbid a rather persistent poultry farmer, the rooster was soon hers. Walking back to her car, carrying the cage with her new rooster, it took all her will to keep from shaking with excitement.

Driving home, Alice could scarcely contain her excitement. Arriving back, she let the rooster out into one of the enclosures in the lower part of the barn, making sure he had plenty of feed and water, watching as he grew accustomed to his new surroundings. As soon as she released him, though, the rooster seemed to take instant notice of the woman, as if there were something in her nature that just drew his attention. By the time Alice had worked up the nerve to try her luck with the cockerel, he seemed rather willing to let the female handle him.

Alice strode into the lower barn, completely nude except for her shoes. Walking carefully to the bird's stall, she took care picking the animal up and moving over to a small pile of hay, lying back and making herself comfortable. Gently holding the bird under one arm, she used her other hand to begin stroking her nether lips. She gasped as the pleasure began to shoot through her body, continuing to massage her most sensitive parts, fantasizing about her stud claiming his hen. Her juices coating her hand, dripping onto the floor as she pleasured herself, waiting for the chance to let the soft feathers finish her off.

All the while, slung under the human's arm, the rooster began to catch the scent he instantly recognized as a female in need. His ire was roused, and he quickly struggled free from the grasp of the woman who was too into the haze of pleasure to restrain him. Alice looked down, half expecting the bird to quickly run away from her, and surprised to see it pacing in the space between her outstretched legs, eyeing her with what could be considered a wanting expression.

Before she could react, the rooster bolted forward, his belly pressed hard against her crotch. The mere feel of the feathers moving against her feminine folds was enough to trigger some deep seeded instinct in her mind that had lay hidden until this moment. All her thoughts dissolved, and she surrendered to the will of the male that was claiming her. She forgot who she was, what she was, only caring that she was his hen in that moment. It seemed like hours had passed in the moments it took for the bird to do his duty. Alice felt a gush of hot fluids shoot into her passage setting off her own orgasm. She cried out in pleasure, her subsequent moans sounding vaguely like clucks as she came down from her high.

Alice caught her breath, stunned at what had just occurred. As her higher thoughts came flooding back, the first thing she could think of was how amazing it had been. It was beyond pleasurable, surprising for such a relatively small creature lacking any kind of penis. But beyond the physical, the mental and emotional aspects had shattered her conscious in that split second. She had fulfilled one of her deepest desires, but more than that, something tucked into the furthest recesses of her mind told her it was the right thing to do. She felt more fulfilled than ever before, smiling adamantly as she began to doze in the hay, unawares of the hand she lightly rubbed against her belly.

When Alice awoke, she once again had complete control of her faculties. She remembered what had happened, a few details a bit fuzzy. She found the rooster scratching at the dirt floor, paying no heed of the woman he had mated the evening before. Alice grinned, turning to leave the handsome bird to his typical routine. She headed upstairs, got dressed, and prepped for a conference call with a client. All the while, the same contented feeling that pervaded her mind seemed to hint at something else, something that would soon be coming.

The next three weeks saw Alice going frantic over what was happening to her body. A few days after her session with the rooster, she had noticed not only that she had been eating far more than was usual, but that a definite weight was forming in one spot in her lower abdomen. As the first week ended, the weight had grown to an ever present entity in her body. She noticed she was gaining a small paunch, which by the end of the second week had become rather noticeable and by the third had ballooned out to the point where none of her pants would fit her. She was determined to go to the doctor and get it sorted out, convinced at first she must be swelling from an infection contracted from her filthy, if gorgeous mate. That thought was quickly thwarted, however, after one fateful night.

Alice tossed and turned in wild dreams all night, her body soaked in sweat. The weight in her belly gave her no end of discomfort, and she involuntarily clutched and rubbed at it in her sleep to try and alleviate the feelings. When she woke up the next morning, convinced her stomach had bulged even more during the night, she shakily rolled out of bed and tried to stand.

As Alice got to her feet, however, a sudden, alien twang of pain shot through her body, making her chirp in shock. She grasped her stomach as she fell to her knees. She cried out again as that action only seemed to make the weight inside her suddenly shift. Alice groaned, feeling her folds begin to moisten as her insides cramped, moving in rhythm around the weight within her. The contractions started, coming in quick succession as her cervix dilated, the mass in her womb pushing against the muscular walls as if trying to escape. She felt the mass move into her passage, her cunny dripping with juices as she felt it inch its way down. Her breath came in labored huffs, her expression a mix of pain and pleasure. Her inner walls were stretched, her nether lips beginning to part as the object began to emerge.

Alice clenched her eyes shut, doing all she could from screaming out as the object hit every sweet spot along her passage. She shivered in pleasure and anticipation as the base instincts began to take hold of her mind again. This time, however, the more primal thoughts seemed to merge with her human mind, comforting her as the white point of the object began to crown. She spasmed a few times, the object pushing out further each time. With one last shutter and a sound that could best be described as a cluck, the object fell free. Looking down, Alice saw the white, gleaming egg resting between her legs, the size of football and coated in her vaginal lube.

Her mind was suddenly expanded, making her aware of her duties as a mother. She quickly gathered up the egg, wrapping it in warm blankets and holding it close to her. Rushing into action, she quickly cleaned up the mess of her fluids, gathered up all the spare blankets, sheets, pillows and towels she could find and tossed them on the bed. In a flurry of activity, she had quickly arranged the linens into a nest, feeling very satisfied with herself. She then found a small table, moving it over next to the bed, moving her computer onto it, and even found time to make herself lunch to overcome the ravenous hunger she now felt. Settling back into her nest, Alice gently placed the egg under her and took up her duties at incubating it. She felt so much love for the young chick that now grew in the ovoid beneath her. She knew she would need to spend weeks keeping it warm, leaving it only briefly when she had to. Alice was so ready to be a mother hen, eager for her first child to hatch out of its shell. Something else inside told her she would surely need to clutch again, as often as possible. Her instincts told her she had so much breeding to do, so many chicks to lay. Flipping on her computer, she immediately began browsing the various breeds of chickens, picking out those she found particularly attractive, and starting to make the calls to get them bought and sent on their way. There's no reason, she reasoned, why a doting mother hen couldn't have her harem as well.

It had been nearly twenty years since her first egg was laid, and Alice had been a very busy hen, now the head of a rather extensive family. Even before her first egg had hatched, she already had nearly a dozen roosters living on her farm, all of different breeds, and all of them seemingly eager to breed the intriguing new female. Yet even as the males were settled in their individual coops, Alice was too preoccupied with her precious egg, which after nearly two months of incubating was ready to hatch.

Alice woke with a start as she felt the egg rock under her. She bolted out of bed, watching with rapt fascination as the event played out in front of her. Minutes passed, the first cracks appearing in the shell as the tiny beak poked through it. Alice was on edge as the young one inside chipped away at the shell. As much as she wanted to, something told her that the baby had to do this labor alone, that it was the way she had been born as well. The egg rocked more violently, and with an audible crack one side of the egg broke open and the creature within fell out.

It was slightly smaller than a human baby, but that was the least of the differences. The young male, Alice instinctually knowing it was a male, was a mixture of human and avian features. His body had an overall normal shape for a human infant, but was covered in yellow down still wet from the egg fluids. The down ended at his wrists and right above his ankles. Picking up her child, Alice felt the nubby tail on his backside. Holding him up, she looked for the first time into his eyes, the soft brown ones staring back from a completely avian face. He was a perfect young rooster, and his gaze was filled with recognition for his mother, the bond formed at first sight.

The scene had played out dozens of times. Alice had clutched at least twice a year, sometimes three times, each time changing which one of her males she would breed. Now, two decades after her first laying, when her human mind and animal instincts had become one, like she was born anew. Her children were quick to grow and even quicker to learn. Despite their hybrid nature and inability to speak, each one seemed perfectly at ease in communicating with the others and in understanding what their mother taught them.

Alice, her belly once again swollen with new life, sat looking out her window over the fields. The farm once more buzzed with activity, her children helping to get it up and running again. They were fortunate, supporting themselves, not having to worry about how the world would see them. She saw her first chick, now grown to a fine and incredibly handsome rooster-man, moving out with a few of the other cocks to tend one of the fields. The hens were busy tending to more household chores or watching the young chicks. Their numbers had grown significantly, and not just because of their mother's prodigious efforts. Many of the hens had come into their own, taking mates among the more mature cocks, or even among the actual roosters as well, not caring if their partners were anthropomorphic or simply animals.

The chicken people, their breeds running the gamete of types, lived what would be by most standards a simple, productive, almost rustic life. There was just something in their nature that let them be content with that lifestyle, not caring about the wider world and its marvels. Of all of them, only their mother used her computer to maintain her work over the net, devoting every cent she made into expanding and improving the farm. She knew that one day her children, grandchildren and their descendants would be found out, and she wanted them to be as well off as they could be when that happened.

A muscle contraction hit her abdomen, drawing a sudden moan out of the woman. A white hen, instantly recognized as her eldest daughter, rushed in to aid her mother, who just smiled and nodded, the eyes of the chicken-woman enough to convey a response. She left to gather fresh towels and clear space for the newest egg in the incubation room. Alice grunted as another contraction hit her, seeming more painful than they usually were. She knew instantly what it meant, that this would be one of those rare clutches that were blessed with twins.