Going Global (Gallus, part 8)

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The next part in the series. This was kind of a quick story to bridge into future ones and open up new possibilities. Hope you like it.


Going Global (Gallus, part 8)

by Chickenboy

Some might have thought it odd to find so many stray chickens wandering the countryside. But the local farmers figured part of a large coop was broken open or some transport truck had crashed. Either way, they were quick to round up most of them and return to their own farms and ranches, placing the birds in with the rest of the poultry population. The new birds seemed to garner great attention from the other chickens, both hens and roosters alike, but again no one took any serious mind of it. By the time the first rumors began to be heard it was too late. Many of the farms had already shipped off truckloads of eggs and packaged chicken meat. Or worse, when someone would come to the farms to spread the news, they would have quite a surprise as they were accosted by the alien forms that were once the farmers, their families and their livestock.

Mike sat at the restaurant counter, his two co-workers sitting beside him as they ate their lunch. All three were awaiting the call to board their planes, their company sending them off to various offices overseas to push the new marketing line. Michael bit into his egg salad sandwich, his friends instead enjoying the daily special of roasted chicken, but all three finding it surprisingly good for airport fare. Mike took a swig of beer, glancing up at the television above the bar as the news headlines began to scroll past. He couldn't hear anything over the crowd and could barely read the notations, but it seemed to be full of the same old bombing reports, financial troubles and celebrity gossip it always was.

"Can't believe they changed my seating," his companion, Richard, said after receiving a text. "Fourteen hours to China in coach, can you believe that? Preferred seating my ass."

"I don't know what you're complaining about," John, the other man seated with them said. "You don't have to go to Rio and Sao Paulo. If the heat doesn't kill me the humidity sure will."

"I guess we all couldn't luck out and jump on the express to Europe, huh Mike?" Richard added a bit repugnantly.

"Hey, don't blame me if you got the short straw," Mike said finishing off his sandwich.

"Well try not to enjoy yourself too much," John quipped. "And remember us poor, suffering souls, would ya?"

"Flight 1905 to Brussels is now boarding," the intercom announced.

"Well," Mike said a bit sarcastically, quickly finishing off his beer, "got to go. Enjoy your trips, gentlemen."

Both men just shook their heads as Mike walked off towards his gate. Finishing his own lunch, Richard looked up at the television screen just in time to see an alert broadcast cut into the news show, the headline saying something about "poultry scare" and "hazards".

"What do you suppose that's about?" he asked John, the other man glancing at the screen.

"Probably just another salmonella warning or something," he replied, and both men just quickly put it out of their minds. Yet as they boarded their own flights, all three men couldn't help but feel something was off, but chocking it up to bad food or something. Likewise, so many other passengers, on flights going to many destinations, felt the same way after partaking in the unusually good restaurant specials.

Several hours into the flight, Mike was feeling worse than any time he could remember. His insides felt like they were tied in knots, he felt bloated against the confining seatbelt, and for the life of him couldn't sleep to try and make the flight shorter. The flight attendants had given him some stomach tablets, but they did little good. With each passing minute he continued to feel worse and worse, wondering if he was becoming seriously ill, or if it had been something he ate.

Mike broke out into a sweat, his face flushed red with discomfort. He felt like he was burning up, despite removing his suit jacket and tie. Climbing out of his seat, the distressed man stumbled to the rear of the plane, slumped into the bathroom and locked the door. The confined space made the air around him seem even more stifling. Turning on the cold water, he thoroughly splashed his face and neck trying to relieve his discomfort. While helping him momentarily, he soon felt worse than before, slumping onto the toilet as the world seemed to close in around him.

His belt was digging painfully into him, and he unbuckled it with a sigh of temporary relief. As he released it, though, his belly seemed to balloon out even more, as if spurred on from the release of its confinement. His pants button popped off and the zipper was forced down. Quickly pulling up his shirt, Mike looked in shock at his bloated belly, touching it with his hand, he swore he could feel a solid mass under his skin.

No sooner had he touched the masses than his body shuddered and he felt it shift inside him. He groaned, feeling suddenly that he must use the facilities. In one swift motion he was on his feet, threw down his pants and underwear and had the cover on the toilet up, flopping down on the cold seat and trying to relieve himself. He grunted and groaned, feeling like something was lodged in his colon, not moving at all despite his best efforts. Mike gasped as he felt the weight in his stomach move suddenly, his anus suddenly feeling like it was hit by a hammer from the inside. He felt something pressing firmly against his prostate as it migrated through his innards, causing his member to spring erect. He gripped the sink as both pain and pleasure shot through him as the objet began to push at his pucker.

He tried to open his legs wider, to shift his position, anything to help relieve the intense pressure and ease the strange sensations. He gripped his stomach, feeling the muscles clench and unclench in powerful contractions. His body was drenched in sweat, and he felt like he was on fire. He began to push with each spasm, somehow knowing how to force the mass out more quickly. As he exerted himself, though, his efforts began to have odd side effects. Each time he clenched his muscles, he would feel other parts of his body stretch and swell. He felt his feet straining at his shoes, growing painfully tight. Bearing down again, he felt his feet stretch more, hearing the leather shoes tear away. He tried to look down, but all he saw in the cramped space were his pants hanging limply on the floor, obscuring his feet.

Straining once more, he saw his ankles stretch as the rest of his legs shrank. His hands as well had begun to reshape, the middle finger growing longer, the ring and pinkie digits seeming to wither and merge with it. He noticed that changes seemed to come only when he made an effort to expel the foreign mass, and the thought crossed his mind briefly to halt its progress, and possibly stop the changes as well. His body overruled him in that regard, as another contraction hit and he pushed out of sheer compulsion. Mike was helpless, being held hostage by his own body as it reshaped itself.

He could feel another, massive contraction coming on. As the muscles began to tense, he felt an intense burning in his jaw. The spasm hit, and mike groaned in both agony and pleasure, a streamer of pre shooting from his erect member onto the cabin door. At the same time, he felt his jaw quickly pop and stretch, his teeth seeming to merge and shoot forward in mere seconds. He tried to yell, but his voice garbled, lost his masculine tone, and came out as a cluck. Turning his head to the mirror, Mike saw his face staring back, only now adorned with a prominent beak.

He went wide eyes as he stared at the thing, even more so as his hair fell out and large fleshy waddles grew in along the top of his head and on either side of his new facial feature. He wanted to reach up and touch it, to ensure it was real, but another contraction paralyzed him, and his straining efforts helped the changes along by making his head flatten out and his face push forwards. He thrashed around in his panic, throwing off his shirt and kicking his feet free of the clothes at his feet. Seeing them fully in their changed state, now wholly resembling bird feet, only added to his frantic reactions, his talons leaving scratches in the lavatory door. Another internal muscle spasm hit and he felt his anal ring begin to stretch, a large, smooth object being forced out of his shifting body. Mike was oblivious to the world around him, now paying no heed to the cramped surroundings and not considering his noisy efforts were heard over the drone of the engines.

A stewardess had been walking by, thinking the man in the restroom had been in there quite a long while. She was about to knock and check on him, when a strange, guttural groan came from the inside and a strange, musky odor was noticeable even with the constant circulation of air. She had, with some hesitation, called over the sky marshal, worried it might be another case of someone doing illegal drugs in the lavatory. The man had come over, and both of them stood in front of the door, the man banging on it to get the attention of the occupant. The only response they received were more of the loud groans and scratching on the door. The sky marshal called over another attendant with the emergency key, waiting as she fumbled with the release on the door. A strange, guttural groaning was heard within, and as the door slid open, both the marshal and attendants looked in shock at the strange form within, their senses overwhelmed by the cloud of sweet, musky odors spilling from within.

Crammed into the tiny lavatory was a creature that resembled a mix of human and animal features, bird features, a rooster to be specific. The creature must have been at least seven feet tall if it stood to its full height, but was hunched and craned around in discomfort inside the tiny room. Its stark brown, orange and green feathers stood out against the white colored walls. Its face was wholly avian, the deep red wattles very prominent along its head and face. Its feet were completely animalistic, and its arms seemed to be somewhat cartoon-like, each digit of the hand replaced by long feathers, other large feathers spread along the arm to make the entire length wings. Its deep brownish-yellow eyes were partially rolled back, strange grunts and clucks escaping its beak is it appeared to visibly struggle with something. And sticking out from its crotch was a very prominent male organ, curved, tapered and more pointed in shape than a typical human penis, glistening with fluids, each visible shudder of the creature's body sending more dribbling down its length, forming a sticky puddle on the floor.

Mike's mind, meanwhile, had given over to the pleasure of his transformation completely, going blank and letting the sensations wash over him. The pressure on his insides had grown in intensity, and become progressively less painful and more enjoyable with each muscle contraction. Now he huffed and gasped through his beak, the last of his feathers growing in as his changes slowed. Through the whole process he had felt his sphincter begin to dilate, the weight in his gut apparently a solid mass forcing its way out. His anus was now stretched taught around the large object, his ass cheeks forced apart as it slowly squeezed free of the chicken-man's body. Each shudder forced it a little further out, each time drawing more pleasure out of the excited transformee. His member had sprung to life as soon as the last threads of his cloths had been tossed aside, the weight within pressing against his prostate and sending spikes of pleasure racing up his spine. Now it throbbed almost painfully between his legs, begging for pleasure its master was unable to give, paralyzed as he was by his changes. He was lost in a sea of orgasmic delight, paying no head to the world around him, until the door before him was quickly slid open.

The sound and the sudden rush of cool air against his exposed meat was enough to push him over the edge. With one last great shudder, he clamped his internal muscles and forced the mass the last little way out, feeling it slide easily through his rear passage and the walls close once more. The object dropped the short distance into the toilet bowl beneath him with a faint clang against the metal. The feeling of his passage clenching shut in turned caused the new rooster to buck his hips forward, only noticing the three humans staring agape at him for an instant before he shot his load.

The hot, sticky seed sprayed onto the attendants and sky marshal, splattering their clothes and faces with strings of semen that clung to their skin and hair. They stumbled backwards in shock, trying to wipe the mess off but quickly overcome with a strange rush to their heads. Collapsing onto the floor, their struggle to fight the surge of sensations were in vain as the seed went to work on the humans. Mike, changed and snapped back to consciousness, stood and squeezed himself out of the lavatory, the passers roused by the commotion looking on in shock as the chicken creature clumsily strode out into the aisle, a few clucks heard as he surveyed his surroundings.

Glancing briefly back into the cramped room from which he had emerged, Mike caught sight of the cantaloupe sized egg resting in the toilet bowl, feeling a sense of pride at his accomplishment. Turning back, however, he saw the looks of shock, confusion and horror from the onlookers, many already rushing towards the front of the plane. A loud, clucking groan drew his attention down, seeing the stewardess already experiencing the effects of his seed, her face pushing out into a lovely beak, with feathers sprouting on all three of the writhing humans. A look of mischievous intent came into his eyes, and he gazed once more over the crowd. His cock already was hardening in anticipation, knowing the remainder of their flight would be anything but boring.

The plane had been rerouted to a secure runway at the airport, the ground control having lost contact with the plane several hours ago. With no emergency beacon or change in course, they thought it might be an instrument failure, but took no chances. The plane touched down and taxied to a far corner of the airport with all radio contact still seemingly dead. Holding up a set of binoculars to his face, the lead air traffic controller looked out as the plane parked itself, its engines shutting down. Suddenly, he saw the emergency doors open and the evacuation slides inflate. A split second later a flood of bodies began to pile out of the plane, sliding down to the tarmac and scattering in all directions.

The controller didn't know what he was seeing, as all the people coming from the aircraft were not only nude, but apparently no longer human. Every one of them seemed to have been altered or changed, possessing strange traits more like animals than anything else. It didn't take long to realize, though, that they all had one thing in common, their traits were those of chickens. Some had wings, others feet and tails, some were fully anthropomorphic birds while some looked like full-fledged poultry of larger sizes. A woman ran with her incredibly ample bosom swaying in front of her, her head fully that of a hen. He caught site of a couple running still changing, the man's body being covered with feathers as he looked on through the scopes. From another corner of his vision, he saw a group of females leading another band of what appeared to be transformed children, just like mother hens minding their chicks. He went wide eyed as one man, rather round in body with aian legs and a prominent beak on his still mostly human face, halted mid stride, squatted down and deposited what looked like an enormous egg onto the asphalt. The chicken man turned, retrieved the ovoid and continued running with the others, some heading for the edge of the airport, some for the crowded terminal. The controller watched with his mouth agape as a few, encountering some of the airport ground crews, were proceeding to strip them of their clothing and beginning very intimate acts with them. One man was in the midst of a group of the creatures, fondling his body as they tore his uniform to shreds. Another man had been cornered by a hen with a very prominent erection, and the controller watched both horrified and fascinated as she threw him to the ground, pulled off his pants and began ramming him in the ass. He was even more shocked when, after a few moments the man stopped resisting, and then began to sprout feathers of his own.

Setting down the binoculars, the controller picked up the phone to call in the situation, not sure what to say. He kept looking down from the control tower, seeing many dozens entering the terminal, many more vanishing off the tarmac and into the town beyond. Yet he kept coming back to those people now being changed right below him, astonished and unbelieving at what he was looking at, even while his own now rigid member strained in his pants. So caught up was he in his task, that he and the other controllers failed to notice the door opening and several feathered figures striding in.

Within hours the airport was locked down, but it was too late. Hundreds of people had been infected and changed, each generation of chicken people doing their best to spread the strange effects to others. And worse, many dozens had escaped into the surrounding city and countryside. Many responders were already finding people outside the quarantine zone transformed into strange chicken-like creatures, horny and determined to mate with any human they encountered. The lines between species and genders was blurred in them, and it was only spreading farther and farther. Despite the authorities' best efforts to control it, there were still some that slipped out or got away, only to resurface elsewhere and begin the infections again. The gallus compound had taken root on new and fertile soil, and what no one could yet realize was that it was not an isolated incident. Across the world planes were touching down filled with poultry passengers, each one bursting open as the individuals felt the deep yearning to mate, breed and spread. It was a new world, and the chicken people were going to claim their places in it.