FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Ocular and cerebral combustion warning, story contains: Non-consensual rape, vivid violence and gore.

Consequence

Panting and sweating, Jill groaned slightly, looking for a little relief. Muscles bunching and legs clenching, she could not give up when she was so close. Her goal almost in reach, the lizard girl redoubled her efforts. Slater could almost taste the sweet finish, the climax. Warmth flooded through her, purging any limitations as lactic acid made her muscle sweetly ache.

Cresting the final hill, Jill saw the gym and eased up on her jog. Music thumped through her headphones and sweat ran from her brow.

No matter how hard she tried, long-distance was just not Slater's forte. She enjoyed the burn despite the frustration. Wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her palm, she slowed to a walk. The young woman was perspiring profusely, wearing more black than was strictly necessary in direct sunlight. Arm warmers, loose tank top, shorts, and accompanying sporty undergarments, all from the same color palette. For the couple miles she had to hike or jog, a backpack rather than a traditional gym bag was more practical. The downside was that she could feel the perspiration run down and stick to her back.

Naturally, her arm warmers, adorned with strips of polished metal, hid slim knives.

Despite the lingering embarrassment over her feminine assets, Jill was not foolish enough to do her workout routine in too much clothing, even in late fall. Though perhaps the reason was that she was becoming comfortable in her new body. Complacent being too strong a word. She maintained a healthy detachment, alternating between forced acceptance in order to function and purposeful apathy. She had yet to hit the gym since her gender shift, and although her desire to exercise necessitated the exposure, she was still leery. At school and the quarry she was much more relaxed.

While she enjoyed the freedom afforded by them, her shorts came up dangerously short on the inseam.

Rapidly, Jill was approaching the point where feigned confidence and smooth self-assurance became real. Because of the time she spent living her double life between home, school, and the delinquent backdrop of the quarry and other teenage dives, both of those versions of Jill were true. The roles she chose to don in her life were easily interchangeable because of long practice. With her new-found body, there was no haven of otherness. There was no escaping her own body, her own corporeal shell.

Every moment of every day was spent as a woman.

Jill had managed, without too much difficulty, to coerce a paired gym membership out of her mother several years ago when her youthful embarrassment forced her to move on from structured self-defense courses. As a single, middle-class mother, the older Slater could not say no even if she ever used the services purchased, spurred on by countless commercials and fashion magazines.

Although a little pricey, and a little commercialized, the franchise gym was actually fairly nice. The outlet was built along the lines of a standard template used by dozens of others. Passing through parked cars and after showing her membership card to the bored receptionist, Jill walked by several weight rooms, treadmill lines, and wide open yoga mats. After dropping her bag off in a locker, she took to an unoccupied spot on the cushioned floor.

She stretched, she warmed up, and went through her opening routine. After hundreds of repetitions, she did not have to think about the motions. Everything flowed smoothly, without thought or mind. Calves to hamstrings to quadriceps, she worked the tension out of her legs and moved on from there. Heartbeat, breathing, every other bio-rhythmic impulse was slowly regulated. Jill exerted every measure of control over her body. Her mind was eased along with her body, knowing that even shunted into a strange yet familiar world she still dominion. She still ruled the form of the bizarre yet intimate frame.

After going through the couple of self-defense forms she still had memorized, Jill moved on to a punching bag. The thick material was rough and abrasive and felt good against the calloused hide of her knuckles and shins. Once again working up a good sweat, Slater gradually increased her pace. Clenched fists thudded harder and harder into the suspended bag, the shock sending hardly a quiver through her iron extremities. Picking up her feet, she really got the bag rocking with hundreds of pounds of force impacting through ball and heel.

Heart beat rocketing up to a satisfactory level, Jill eased down. She listened to the thudding in her chest and the rush in her ears, pumping precious oxygen enriched blood. Leaning her forehead against the bag to breathe, she smeared some of her salty excretion against the countless other dried tracks on the worn bag. She patted the hanging deadweight and moved on to something a little less intense to cool down.

Although the gym was not too crowded, there were still a fair few individuals using equipment. There were the typical upper body nuts who exercised their arms to the detriment of all other parts, ending up laughably top heavy. Some however were pretty good-looking. Being alert and attentive, she noticed the gazes of a few attractive specimens. It was different from when she had been a guy. Instead of a sense of sex appeal when she caught girls looking at her, it was competition. When the boys looked at her, that was when she felt the sexiness. Everything was backwards.

I don't get it. I'm still straight, I still think girls are sexy. Wait, no... would that make me a lesbian? No, straight would make me gay. No... that's not right. Shit's crooked, that's for sure. Heh, maybe I'm just deranged. Bent? Yeah. Twisted? Maybe I've got a little twist. But really, who doesn't?

Cognitive dissonance aside, there was one inescapable feeling that she was desperately trying to suppress. It took all her considerable self-control to arrest. And that was that she was beginning to like being a girl.

There was one well-toned tiger in particular that she captured catching a good view of her ass as she bent down to touch the ground her workout shorts pulled taut across her backside. The feel of the fabric tight against her rump and snugly hidden pussy gave her a little twinge somewhere between her ovaries. What made her straighten rapidly was the thought of said male... doing things to her. She clamped down hard on the stray thought, harder than someone in a burning building trying to stamp out the flames.

More than her own borderline narcissistic body toning, the thing that gave her that special shiver was the idea of being held by someone big, strong, steady, masculine. In a flash, phantom arms were wrapped around her. Then a tongue was against her most intimate of places, making her wet and ready. Then something else was inside her, filling her, thrusting and...

And she was not thinking about that.

No, definitely not contemplating being fucked silly by some...

Not thinking about that either. Most certainly not.

Pushing herself even harder, she tried to drown out the mental meanderings by focusing on the physical. Again driving herself to respiratory red line, Jill thankfully found something else to distract her.

There was one girl, a rather tomboyish brown bat in blue shorts and spandex top sitting on a bench who kept glancing between her phone and Jill. Flamingo pink hair sat in an unruly mop on top of her head. Surreptitiously keeping an eye on the girl, Jill slowed down a bit. When the bat clearly took a picture of her, the young lizard stopped altogether and stared viciously, trying to elicit a reaction that would reveal the girl's intentions. Slater was quite surprised when the bat caught her glare and waved happily.

Confused yet wary, Jill approached.

"Hey, is your name Jill?" The sprightly brown bat called out when Jill had stalked close enough not to have to shout. The black and green lizard girl crossed her arms under her breasts and adopted a neutral stance.

"Maybe. Why?"

Seemingly immune to unhappiness, the seated girl practically squealed in delight. The girl was somehow demure and wild all at once. She looked like a tomboy with her track and field build and smaller chest yet managed to retain a bit of feminine charm in the way she held herself.

"I'm a good friend of Sky's! My name's Kristy. She's helped me out a lot as treasurer. Without her, the LGBT club at school wouldn't have seen a cent. Especially not our in-school parade."

"You go to Northview? Wait, Northview has an LGBT club? Oh, shit, I didn't realize that Sky was so... open about all of it." Jill was momentarily floored by the reveal, her mind tallying up the resident gay population in her school and doubling it.

"She's generally not, sugar. But us in the club understand the desire of some for... discretion. C'mere, I've been texting with her. She's actually on her way here right now." Kristy patted the seat next to her and Jill sat, leaning over to see Sky was even then sending a frenzied and emphatic string of emoticons.

"Sky has been telling me all about what you two have been up to. She and I have had a few flings, but she promised me a piece of you as long as she's there. And that's a promise I intend to hold her to." Kristy slid quite a bit closer to Jill. She spoke huskily into Jill's ear, almost tonguing one of the lizard's earrings. Ever so lightly she trailed a hand along scaly thigh while she did so. Another good thing about being a girl was that Jill no longer had to worry about popping boners in public. Because if she could, her wood would have ripped through her workout shorts and slapped Kristy across the face.

Holy shit. Jill thought, catching a nice helping of bat-girl cleavage below the mop of pink. Not that it was that hard even without Kristy putting her lovely little lady lumps on display by pulling down her top a little seeing how even sitting down Jill was a solid head taller.

Are there really this many sex-crazy lesbians at my school or am I just lucky? Shit, why couldn't I score tail like this when I was a guy. I'd have tapped this bat booty until my dick chaffed. Shit, even without a dick I'm gonna tap it. That's it, I must be in purgatory. Because if this was heaven, I'd have a foot long dick with angel mouth wrapped around it. Not in hell because no brimstone. I'm being punished by having all this pussy, but no fuck-stick.

Or maybe life's just a bitch like that.

Kristy was so bold as to lean close enough to breathe hotly across Jill's neck and give just the tiniest of licks to her ear between two of her silver hoops. Goosebumps rippled across Slater's forearms and pleasant tingles ran from her neck to tail.

Then again, if life's a bitch, there's nothin' to do but bend it over and make it scream.

"So, Sky has told you what we've done?"

"Mhmm..."

"She hasn't mentioned me... uh... condition, has she?" Kristy paused in her close examination of the side of Jill's neck.

"Condition? What's wrong with you? You poor dear, you don't have an enlarged heart, do you? I knew a guy who had a brother who had that." Again Kristy stroked Jill's thigh, this time with a good deal of sympathy.

"No, no, no... god, no. It's nothing like that. It's uh... It's kind of embarrassing." Jill thought up a lie quick as she could, latching onto something that she knew usually worked. Feminine troubles. "I have a hormone imbalance. I can be unstable at times. Just warning you." She smiled sheepishly.

"Pfft, girl, is that all? Sheeeit, I'd say that's what being a girl is." Kristy countered before continuing her careful teasing.

"Uhh, isn't there a good place to uh... y'know... have a little privacy." Jill queried tentatively, looking around at the couple furs occupying the room.

"Silly. No one looks twice at a few girls walking in or out of the showers. Hey, Sky says she's here already! C'mon, we gotta let her in as a guest." Kristy shot off like a rocket, leaving Jill surprised by the abruptness. Again, the lizard girl felt a special twinge between her legs. Rather than the source being an ambiguous phallus, it was the exhibitionist thrill of public sex.

Sky was chatting happily with the receptionist when the brown bat came bounding with Slater in tow. Bright and plucky in a purple with yellow splashed blouse and jeans, the young mouse greeted Kristy with a girlish cry of joy. They clasped hands and bounced a few times before embracing. Chattering pleasantries, the both gave Jill a strangely hungry stare before returning to their unintelligible babble. Momentarily feeling like a meal on legs, Jill signed Sky in as a guest under the inattentive, gum-popping gaze of the receptionist.

Hardly catching every third word, the lizard girl followed the two teens into the woman's changing room. Jill's heart beat faster as she started to strip down on one of the flat benches, stuffing her clothes in an open locker. She watched with great interest though as Sky and Kristy disrobed. Both were virtually A-cup, the barest hint of a swell revealed as they unhooked each others bras. Fortunately even though there were a few attendees at the gym, there was no one at all using the showers. Distracted by watching them, Jill again was caught between the two as they glared, not at her as a whole, but her tits in particular.

Kristy had her much tighter top wrapped around her arms, trying to squeeze what little lady-lump she had into greater prominence while she glared straight into Jill's cleavage. Apparently what little bosom the bat had sported earlier was illusion through push-up bra. Meanwhile, Sky was fully naked from the waist up, was fondling herself, and had a rather vacant look as she gazed upon glorious lizard rack, perhaps imagining her previous carnal encounter. Watching the both of them practically drool, Slater peeled off her sweaty garments with unnecessary slowness. She felt sexy and enjoyed the power her sex appeal lent her over the mouse and the bat.

When Kristy saw that Jill's nipples were pierced, her jaw would have fallen off had it not been attached. She also saw many of Jill's scars and chose not to mention those.

Letting down her hair from its pony-tail, she was reminded of how long it was, the neon green locks falling almost to the base of her tail. Feeling a little coquettish herself, Slater flipped a little of her mane forward to cover her nipples. She then watched Sky melt in on herself and Kristy's whole body lurch forward a little. Bare as the day she was born, except of course, for two water-proof bracers full of knives, Jill allowed herself to be pulled along into the showers.

The gym did not have a swimming pool, but did have several hot tubs, sauna rooms, and private showers. The hot tubs were the reason Jill endured the rather arduous walk from her house. Sometimes she walked just for a few hours of soak. Nothing melted away her aches and worries like the hot water did. The showers were good too though, each separated by a high tiled wall and equipped with a solid door. Shelves of fresh white cotton towels adorned the two entries into the banks of showers and past towards the saunas.

Fully and unabashedly naked, Jill was so nervous and horny, the giggles had gotten even to her. Kristy and Sky each had hold of one of the lizard's hands, pulling her along. Still too bold for her own good, copped a feel, giving Jill's right breast a quick grope. Retaliating in kind, the teen kept the bat moving with a quick, open-palmed slap to Kristy's ass. They were all a little wet already, collecting moisture from the steamy air. They all piled into a stall and closed the door. Soon their laughter and soon after, their moans, were covered by the hiss of pressurized water against ceramics.

There was a lot of dancing and yelps as the initially icy spray slowly adjusted to the set temperature. Soon enough it was perfect and the three began to explore each others bodies. To Jill's surprise, Kristy went after Sky first, locking her lips against the mouse's. They pressed against each other and lost themselves in the kiss. While Jill was left for a moment to observe the feminine affection, she was not excluded for long.

They broke from the muzzle mashing and leaned a little bit away, giving Jill a welcoming and wholesome look at their bodies. Water streamed from the silver mount and lent them a wonderful cast. Rivulets ran from their shoulders down their pert little nipples to between their legs. Taking the invitation, Jill nestled in close, feeling the warm liquid pour over her and between where her body touched theirs. Sky was the shortest, barely clearing the lizard girl's sternum. Only slightly taller, the top of Kristy's mop of pink hair came to Jill's chin.

Finally, Kristy was able to do what she had been wanting to do since first seeing Jill beat the stuffing out of a punching bag. With barely a hint of hesitation she reached up and really gave Jill's tits a good fondling. Gently caressing underneath the firm, yet soft globes, she weighed them in her hands getting a good sense of their natural bounce. Pouting a little, she made Jill moan with her touch. Almost reverently, the bat came very close to soft areola, not daring to touch the piercings yet.

"It's no fair. How can you have so much muscle and this much boob? It's just not right. As a member of the Itty-Bitty-Titty-Committee I formally object!"

Sky watched it all and tittered, sneaking an arm around her black and green lover's waist.

"You wanna know what really drives her up the wall?" In answer to her own question, Sky audaciously took Jill's right nipple into her mouth and gave it a firm suckle. Even in the warm air the mammal's maw was hot around Slater's tit. After first pulling almost all of the teet into her mouth, pulling with suction, she ran her tongue across and under the silver that pierced the acid milk button. Jill with the past mind of Jack would never have considered the sexual ramifications of something so seemingly simple as little silver barbells through her acid green buds.

To the six-foot teen, it simply was not fair. It felt nice. Nice enough to turn the tingle in her folds to a gush. Nice enough to arch her back and involuntarily push her hips forward. When Kristy followed her friend with benefits' lead, Jill gave in to temptation and moaned aloud. Kristy licked and sucked right beside Sky, fondling the generous bosom to her heart's content. Between the hot water and the pair of oral pleasures being performed on her mammaries, Jill was swimming in an ocean of corporeal indulgence. She wrapped her arms around the shoulders of the two and felt herself slowly melting into it all.

Then Sky slid a hand between Jill's legs. At first she pretended to be taken by surprise, but would have been a liar had she said she was not already quivering in anticipation. Her body welcomed the touch with bent knees and spread legs. The mouse's soft fingers parted Jill's even softer nethers with great ease, practically swollen arousal. Grazing, then pressing against Jill's pearl, Sky's fingers were instantly soggy with more honey than could be borne away by the streams of water.

Feeling what the mouse was up to, Kristy again followed her, trusting the mouse's lead in pleasuring the lizard girl. The bat was very much enjoying her new playmate and how she squirmed and moaned. Slipping over the mouse paw giving Slater's pearl a good polish trying to find something girly to play with, Kristy sank one finger as far as it could go in pussy. Simply due to size difference the bat expected Jill to be loose. Quite the opposite was true as a matter of fact. Although her digit slid nicely into Jill's love tunnel, it was mostly due to just how wet the gender-bent teen was. Powerful pelvic muscles actually held onto Kristy like a fleshy vice.

With the horny pair sucking on each of Jill's body-modded, hyper-sensitive breasts and a pair of paws between her legs, it was all the lizard could do to hold on. Kristy started thrusting and finger-fucking her partner vigorously, making Sky's love button massage erratic but harder too. Quicker than she would have thought under the circumstances, Jill was approaching nirvana. Trying to stave off her orgasm, she focused on the sensation of the shower. She did not want it to end so soon, it was just too much fun.

If it had just been Kristy inside her, Jill would have been a long way off. Everything together combined into a rush. Her whole body slowly became electrified with the warm water and even warmer bodies. Soon enough she reached the point of no return. No matter how much she might have wanted to drag the play on, reveling in all the attention, there was a threshold where she could no longer hold back. Her orgasm came hard, fast, and with knee-weakening force.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She cried, trying to bite her lip to keep from shouting. The intensity made Jill open her mouth in a silent scream as she tried to stay upright, riding the mountain up to the peak. At the apex of her explosion she nearly crumpled, gushing her girly cum all over Sky and Kristy's hands. caught in a tsunami of an orgasm, Jill was helpless to the pleasure that carried her along.

Tension, aches, worries, it all was washed away in the purest carnal release.

Fortunately the pair was able to tell that Jill had cum and slowed to a stop, letting the poor girl breathe. The mouse and the bat detached themselves from her breasts and their hands from her sopping wet sex. After the last little jolts of of her high died away, the lizard girl slid down onto her butt without fanfare, staring happily at the slick white tile.

"Damn. You two have been having some fun. And without me!" Kristy said with a devious little twist at the end. "You are a very lucky girl, Sky, to have someone like Jill all to yourself." Kristy turned to Sky with lustful eyes.

"Well, I don't mind sharing every now and then." Teased Sky in return. The two had each other moaning in seconds, grinding and feeling with unfettered paws.

Some jealous impulse awoke within Jill and she found the willpower to move forward between the two sets of legs and between Sky's specifically. Her longer tongue darted across the mouse's petals. Both her and the bat were taken by surprise and each grabbed one of the lizard girl's horns.

"Oooh! Hot damn!" Cried the pink-haired bat. Even without much attention, she was having the time of her life watching Jill compete for the major portion of Sky's pleasure. Every little voyeuristic fiber in her tingled being this close to the action. Of course, with her girlfriend kissing her lower lips, that left the mouse's upper lips free. Kristy locked her lips against Sky's, enjoying her moans.

Quickly Jill grew tired of working her legs in the awkward positions trying to get a taste of Sky's honey rather than just water. Then she got an idea. Lifting the little mouse around the middle, the muscular lizard hoisted her furry partner and rotated the girl. Soon enough, with her biceps snugly in the hollow between Sky's hip bones and ribs, the small girl's knees and thighs rested comfortably on Jill's shoulders.

For a moment Sky was taken unprepared and squeaked in fright. She tried straightening her legs for a moment and grabbed at Jill's thighs to try and keep from falling on her head. Upside down and thoroughly confused, the mouse tried looking up and went face-first into Slater's groin. When she felt Jill swipe her tongue across her spread sex, all puzzlement abated. With her back against the streaming water, Jill was able to properly taste her lover without everything being washed away and without needless sputtering mouthfuls.

With her little mouse's haunches braced so nicely and legs spread so widely in her grasp, Sky's sweet pussy was spread like a blooming pink tulip no more than a lick away. Dipping her narrow tongue in Sky's cherry trough was very satisfying. Her spread petals exposed her normally hooded clit, making the shy love button exposed and erect. With the tip of her slippery appendage, Jill made quick circles around the mouse's nub, feeling every tiny nuance of Sky's womanly anatomy with the fine senses on the end of her taste buds.

The delicate teardrop bottom of Sky's slit, marking the entrance of her love tunnel was every so slightly open, a welcome peak towards the even softer secret depths of her vulva. Sky's folds parted easily around Jill's questing tongue. Because of the spread, Jill's long reptilian tongue was able to get extra deep into her sopping wet hole. With how worked up Sky was, her pussy was practically overflowing with juices. In the first dip, Jill got the full force of the mouse's invigorating, hormone filled girl-cum.

Going back immediately for another dip, Jill eagerly lapped up more of Sky's wetness, tasting the unique sweet, tart, tang of it. Her eyes lit up with the erotic zing.

Having to squat to better brace herself, Sky at last got a good angle to get her own taste. With her back to the shower, most of the water streamed down her tail, allowing Sky to perform her own oral without sputtering and half-drowning. The mouse's greater experience at cunnilingus allowed her to make the muscular lizard weak at the knees. It was a little more of a stretch for her and all the blood flowing to her head made things interesting, but she managed nonetheless. Really it was Jill's boobs that made it almost impossible, adding that little bit of extra cushion and distance. Sky's smaller, broader tongue was able to cover more surface area, stimulating Jill's clit and all the sensitive green around it.

Slightly miffed at having a lovely mouse mouth torn away in mid kiss, Kristy saw Jill's undefended rear and decided just how she would get revenge. Ducking down and lifting up beneath the thickly muscled and scaly tail, the bat took advantage of Jill's other hole. Kristy's tongue found her ass and the lizard nearly dropped her partner on her head. The bat ran her tongue along the outside, doing circles around the tight rosebud. Then, finding it to her liking,she greedily pressed her moderately long appendage in through the hole.

Other than strangely good, Jill was unsure how to classify getting rimmed, so she focused on the good and disregarded the rest. Despite her lack of expertise on eating pussy, Jill made up for in enthusiasm. Which could really be said of all three girls. Either way she managed to make the mouse held firmly upside down, cum. As Sky thrashed and her pussy leaked, she redoubled her efforts on Jill's hairless cunny. She would not be disappointed as with a little anal assistance, was able to make the amazonian reptile climax too. Jill's tight orifice clenched around the bat's tongue while her own felt Sky's petals clench.

Even though again, she was not the focus of the pleasure giving, Kristy's hands had not been idle, one near to cramping had brought her over the edge twice during the whole ordeal.

Carefully through orgasm, Jill held on to the reigns of the bucking bronco that controlled her motor functions and carefully lowered Sky to the ground. At last, all having had their fill, the three panted and heaved in the still onrushing stream of hot water. Somehow Sky's hand comfortably found Jill's mound and cupped it fondly while Kristy nuzzled into her soft bosom. And there was not a thought but peace between the three of them.

After basking and snuggling together in the mutual post-coitus glow they showered off for real and returned to the locker room to get dried off and dressed.

Kristy left them with a wink and the promise to invite her over to one of their houses so that all three of them could have 'girl time' again. After everything was said and done, Jill happily took Sky up on her offer of a ride home and walked out with her to her little blue station wagon. They chatted, they laughed, then Sky asked something that would tear Jill's fragile new equilibrium apart.

"Jill, Kristy was asking if you had some kind of 'condition' she called it. Is there something you're not telling me, sweetie?"

At first, Jill thought nothing of this seemingly innocuous question.

"What? Oh, yeah I'm sorry, it was just some bullshit thing about hormones. I wasn't sure you had told her about me being a boy. Cause, y'know, you telling her about what we've done. It was just me being paranoid." She answered as Sky pulled up to the curb right near Jill's house. Before she stepped out, the mouse's words stopped the lizard girl cold.

"A boy? What are you talking about?" Sky was giving her a strange look of concern, hands on the wheel of the idling vehicle. Jill returned it with a long, searching stare.

"You... you don't remember? Me, you, Victor, how we all talked about it." Jill felt a chasm opening in her gut and in her chest.

"Who's Victor? You're really starting to weird me out." Although she looked and looked, in a moment of true heartbreak, the gender-bent teen had to acknowledge the reality that Sky really did not remember. She was lost. In a very convincing lie, Jill managed to cover her tracks.

"It's nothing really. Y'know tomboy stuff." She said with a smile.

"Tomboy stuff. Okay. That's what you and Kristy were talking about." Sky said in relief.

They said their goodbyes and Slater stepped out of the car, walked to her house, unlocked her front door and marched straight up to her room. Sunday meant her mother would be at work so she had the house to herself as usual. She tossed her gym bag off to the side and fell face-first into the tiny pool of pillows and blankets that was her bed. Alone, she delved into her contemplation. Her mind was a muddled river of strange new emotions. With a flex of brute will, she allowed the introspection to attain clarity on the matter. She gazed into the mirror of her mind and soul with as little bias as she could.

It was this whole thing with Sky.

Jill did not mind how at first the relationship revolved around sex. It had been a coping mechanism actually, letting her mind not go mad in a girl's body. In fact, even with her new-found longing for male, she was not turned off by the thought of eating a little pussy. What turned her off was that the special connection she thought she had felt growing between herself and Sky was slipping away. Jack had experienced a few short flings. Perhaps not enough to say he knew of love and loss, but he was no stranger to it.

With clarity she knew the root source of her heartache. Her affection for Sky stemmed a lot from the fact that the mouse had known about Jill's time as a boy, was sensitive to it, and accepted it. This new Sky, for Slater could only think of her as a poor replacement, knew nothing of the shifting world. Therefore, she knew nothing about Jack. And no matter how comfortable Jill was being Jill, she could no more deny Jack than she could stop breathing. It was part of her, and that Sky now was ignorant to it deeply wounded the girl.

Even though her insides ached a little she had not the courage to try and break it off, not knowing what tomorrow would bring. So, in a move unsurprising given her age, Jill chose to do nothing at all.

****

"Jill! I'm off to work, hun. Have a good day at school, okay!" Jill's mother was about to step out into the garage when she had a strange tickling feeling that all mothers get when they know something is wrong. It caused her to pause and call again. Wearing her nurse's uniform, miss Slater senior had mostly green coloring with only a few black accents and very matronly curves and stood just an inch shy of six feet tall.

"Jill?" When no answer came, the older lizard woman went upstairs to her daughter's room. Inside it was dark except for the red glow of the alarm clock. She flicked on the switch and heard a moan. Jill was curled up under every blanket on the bed with just her horns sticking out. "Sweetie, are you okay?" Mrs. Slater sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled the covers back a little. Her daughter had her eyes shut tight and her mouth locked in a grimace of pain. Concerned, she pressed a palm to Jill's forehead and pulled it back instantly, shocked by the sweaty heat emanating.

"You poor thing! You're burning." Even with a temperature well over a hundred and three, Jill certainly did not feel warm, shivering and shaking with the chills even under all her blankets. "Don't get up sweetheart. I'll get you some medicine and call the school. Just rest." Not able to do much of anything else, the sick teenager nodded. She felt her cocoon rustle a little as her mother got up and left to do exactly as she said.

Great. What else could go wrong?

In answer, her abdomen twinged suddenly. It was enough to cut through the haze of her fever for a moment. Jill felt something slide between her legs and she reached down to quell the pain a little. Something wet touched her fingers and she pulled her hand above the blankets to see two of her fingers shining wetly with dark blood and some other excretions.

And Jill Slater was at that moment convinced the cosmos was laughing at her.

****

After a few days of recovery, Jill returned to school. Doing her best to avoid a certain white mouse and brown bat, the teen went through her day is if it was any other. She talked bullshit with her friends, and did anything but pay attention in class. She kept her eyes peeled for Victor, but did not hold out high hopes. Everything seemed like it would herald just a normal day and she left feeling ambivalent.

Or, she would have if not for what transpired during her history class.

The teacher was lecture on the Civil War and she felt herself nodding off just a bit. She had not even pulled out her notebook, simply letting the information slide in one ear and out the other. As Mrs. T, the otter that taught history, turned to add another note to the whiteboard Jill thought she watched something thin and almost invisible trailing behind her. Then, a great pressure built up in her skull and...

****/n-line****

...Just as quickly passed.

A strange shudder ran through Jill Slater's body. Her skin crawled with the ineffable sense that something was terribly wrong. It took her a moment, but she realized that everything had gone quiet. Looking around she noticed the board where the teacher had been writing points on their lecture not a moment ago was blank. Instead all her classmates were quietly reading their textbooks.

That was when she realized an identical textbook was open on the same chapter on the desk in front of her. The truly disconcerting thing was that the book was not on history, it was on biology. Mental dissonance of truly magnificent proportions rammed its way through Jill's cortex. Sitting very straight and very still, she gave herself a moment to untangle the mess. On the verge of rational thought she relaxed her hands clenched in her lap only again to make a horrific discovery, this one perhaps even worse.

She was wearing a black skirt and a low-cut blouse. With a little thigh rub she also took note of the knee-high black socks and that she was going commando.

It was one of the skirts she distinctly recalled passing over that morning to once again favor a pair of loose jeans. Silently suppressing the urge to scream, Jill sat at stiff attention in her seat. Feeling the thick pleats, she was at least relieved to find the front ones had hard plastic sheathes and knives sewn into them. The lack of underwear though made her pointedly aware of the cool air wafting across her nethers. Turning her head carefully, she looked around the class to see if anyone else was unnerved by this sudden change in development.

Slater very nearly jolted in her seat when she locked eyes with Victor Wright. The jackal appeared just as shocked as Jill to be there as she was to see him. Turning her knuckles white with how hard she was gripping her desk, she tried silently mouthing a few questions but the dark furred anubis was just as lost as she. Deciding she was not ready to wait and see what other curve balls would be thrown at her, Jill decided to take a more proactive approach.

"Hey, teach, I gotta use the bathroom." She said as politely as she could, raised hand and all. A few of the students turned to stare. Mrs. T too seemed startled.

"Jill, come up to my desk please." Her tone was neutral, but something in it caused Slator alarm.

Although confused and wary, the lizard girl complied. Uneasily under the stares, she grabbed her bag and walked to the good-natured, former history teacher.

"Put your hands on the desk." This time there was nothing in the otter's tone to make the teenager suspect foul play. Inwardly hesitant, certain she was about to be the butt of a joke, she again complied, laying her hands flat across the desk.

Abruptly the teacher snapped the ruler she held across Jill's hands. Mrs. T's face had contorted in a rictus of ferocity, her eyes wide with rage. Slater saw the blow coming at the last moment and began to withdraw her digits from the punishment. Instead of the backs, the ruler caught only the tips of the fingers of her right hand and down to the second knuckles of her left. In a way it made the hit more painful. In truth, the pain was not something even eye-watering, but for it to have come from such a sweet teacher with such malicious intent was beyond deliberation.

"Holy shit, what the fuck?!" Jill exclaimed. Behind her there were a few snickers of amusement from the class daring enough to do so aloud.

"You watch your fucking mouth, young lady." The otter snapped back with a pointed shove of her ruler.

Wide-eyed, Jill recoiled from the hostile older woman, clutching her hands defensively. Resisting the impulse to curl her tail between her legs, Jill seized on the seed of outrage growing quickly and used the energy to march straight out of her class and not look back. Mrs. T shouted a few vulgarities but did not pursue. Victor had the good sense to follow Jill quickly out into the hall.

"Fuck this. We're ditching this shit right now. Fucking bullshit school and goddamned bullshit teacher. Fucking ruler. Fucking hitting my goddamn hands just for asking to go to the bathroom." She ranted without even a glance to see if the jackal was listening.

"C'mon, we'll take my car." Jill nodded and only allowed him to take the lead when they were out in the lot. The weather was unseasonably warm. They were long overdue for a storm. Warm air fled before the coming of early winter and had the temperature and consistency of congealed blood, thick with humidity.

"It may look like a piece of shit, but it's got real kick under the hood." Victor patted the top of his grey sedan affectionately, peeling paint and all. Jill was beginning to wonder if she was one of the only ones in her school that did not own a car, piece of shit or otherwise. Regardless, she climbed in and they set off.

At first having too much on her mind to talk, she idly unsheathed a knife and started picking under her nails with it, careful to mind the bumps in the road. Eventually though, the first burning question rose up in Jill's mind as she rode with the young man who had promised her answers.

"Where have you been, Victor? You haven't answered any of my calls and you haven't been in school. And speaking of school, what the fuck happened back there?"

Opening and closing his mouth several times, the jackal took a while to decide what he should say.

"Well, I was sitting in my kitchen having some breakfast when I was suddenly sitting in biology. But other than that I've been... Well, trying to figure this all out. I said I'd call you when I had something. I'm still not sure if I have the whole picture. Still trying to track down where a lot of my dad's colleagues went. Haven't shown up to school because a lot of my records are fucked up. Goes without saying that without a dad you can't be entered into the school system. Or have a signed birth certificate. Or social security." The young man rambled.

"Sky doesn't remember me. The real me. It's like all the memory she had left of me as a boy is just gone."

"I'm sorry. I... still don't think... don't know what we can do." Victor Wright was unsure what else to do, so let the silence drag.

"So... Do you have something? Or not?" She demanded.

He glanced at her as he drove.

"I'll show you." And he said no more. They pulled up to his house only a few minutes later. It was an unassuming suburban house, not too dissimilar from Jill's. White paint, picket fence, two-car garage. As Victor reached to unlock his front door, Jill stopped him. A neglected green hedge grew in a small trench on either side of the door that the young woman was fixated on.

"Wait, wait. There it is again." She saw the same gossamer trail that she had seen following her teacher coming from the mundane shrub. Jill chased the slender threads in frustration, the nearly imperceptible strands elusive to her touch.

"What?" He watched in confusion as from his perspective Slater grabbed and yanked at thin air.

With a careful coaxing she grabbed one of the delicate wires and pulled it towards herself...

****/n-line****

...And where there was once an overgrown shrubbery, there were now neatly tended rosebushes.

"How did you do that?" Victor asked, visibly startled.

To Jill, some roses were a lot less shocking than her skirt and was surprised at Victor's reaction after being told of his conscious relocation from home to class. Either way, the jackal unlocked his front door and they went inside.

The house was as unassuming inside as on the outside. The stock furniture looked almost immaculate enough to be a show house, unlived-in. Only a few nicknacks and empty soda cans on the coffee table hinted at occupants. Victor tossed his backpack uncaring on the plain couch and turned to Jill.

"How did you do that?" Unburdening herself as well, she folded her arms defiantly.

"You tellin' me you didn't see the little threads?"

Victor's brow furrowed in consternation.

"No. But I think I know what they are."

"Do tell, professor." She said with a little bite in her words.

"C'mere. Let me show you somthin'." He guided her out of the living room into what might have been meant to be a bedroom. It seemed to be more the work of maniac with a taste for electronic parts than that of a white-collar corporate tech. Wires and server stacks were strewn throughout the room. A veritable forest of fans and cooling towers were bolted to the walls. Even with all the heat sinks and even a pair of window units running full blast, the air inside the room was sweltering.

Monitors and displays showing strange readouts of things that Jill could not even begin to guess at.

On the center desk, seemingly the hub of the technological cluster-fuck was a trio of monitors. Victor took a seat behind the triumvirate of displays and typed out a few commands on the keyboard. The static image on the monitors was replaced with a huge mass of white coding on a black background. Jill tried to read through some of it and gave up after two lines.

"So, what am I looking at?"

"This, is coding for a manipulated reality. You have no idea how many goddamn notes and password protected folders I had to get through to figure half this shit out. What you're looking at is part of a program that is easily more than one to the ten-thousandth power lines of code."

"Okay, pretend I'm retarded when it comes to math. What is that?"

"That's one, followed by ten-thousand decimal places. Several pages worth of zeroes. That's not digits or characters, that's lines of code. And, to put that in perspective, there's more code here than there're molecules in the universe."

"Holy shit. So, they've literally mapped out the possible position and state of everything making up the universe." Jill caught the gist quickly enough at least, but felt her higher faculties slipping quickly, reaching cognitive capacity.

"Now you're starting to get it. While I'm sure its effective field of influence is earth because everything outside of that is in an unknown quantum state, it still puts into perspective what we're dealing with. I found at least a dozen like this, all completely different as far as I can tell. What I don't know, is how you did what you did."

Jill shook her head.

"I don't know how it works, just that it does. You clearly know more about this than I do. This is what you've been doing all these weeks?" He nodded. "Okay, for the sake of argument, let's say that a computer program can somehow rewrite reality. When, or how, could they have written all this? Even if they had several thousand people writing code, just one would have taken... fuck if I know how long, but a fucking long time, right?"

Victor nodded both acknowledging her supposition and accepting her explanation readily enough, then spoke.

"That's what I thought at first, but when I started going through some of my dad's notes I figured out what they had done. He kept very meticulous records of all his breakthroughs and research. Every time they got far enough, they were able to write themselves in as having started the research earlier. Each time they altered reality so that they had more time, or gave themselves faster computers or more powerful programming language. Imagine they had a one in a billion chance of making figuring this shit out. But with their power, they made that one in a billion a guarantee.

"Suddenly, chance was on their side."

"Alright. I think I'm still with you so far." Jill said, feeling the onset of a major headache. "So then, what happened to your dad? What happened to the rest of them for that matter? Clearly, they used this shit to fuck with reality, but was giving themselves more time all they did? And for that matter, how did I end up a girl?!" She demanded indignantly.

He thought for a moment.

"I know you don't do programming, but... ugh... what's a good analogy? Uh, do you play video games?"

"Of course I play video games. I'm not that stupid."

"Alright, so you know how there are weird glitches sometimes in games? That's not a result of programming bugs... exactly. It's a combination of random segments of code. You get enough random segments in the right position and... well... there's no telling really what will happen. Now multiply the chances of random segments combining by a hundred. A million. A trillion. Suddenly possibility becomes inevitability."

"Wait, couldn't they just alter reality so that there were no errors?"

"At first, they did. Then they got greedy. My dad listed all their names, and I've been checking them out. Everyone but my dad and a few others who were part of the team have suddenly become very rich, very powerful, or both. So instead of scientists, they're now CEO's, actors, congressmen, and whatever else they've decided to become. Some of the names have changed or been erased. Not sure what happened to them, but of the thirty or so that worked on it, most are definitely not scientists anymore.

"You're very lucky you have your memories at all. By all reason you shouldn't. Because you're a girl, that means you have an X chromosome instead of a Y chromosome yet somehow ended up looking virtually mirror imaged to your male self. The only thing I can think of is if maybe you were a twin-headed sperm and you ended up as the other identical twin. I'm not sure. Embryo shit and genetics aren't my specialty."

"My dad, he... he cautioned, and then outright opposed using what he described as 'The Wheel'. He... he got... violent about it in his notes. He'd rant and rave about how when they're funding was cut in the very beginning, they should have given up on it. How, The Wheel would never have even existed without Mister Sable. That the whole thing should have been dismantled, stayed a dream.

"From what I've been able to figure... his notes and rants became rather disjointed after so many shifts and alterations... was that the original scientists were working on variable programming for quantum computers. They're progress was floundering. Not enough resources, help, poor facilities, that kind of thing. They were under pressure from corporate management to make some real breakthrough of some kind. Then, this Mister Sable guy came and gave them something that changed everything.

"You pretty much know the rest from there. They developed it, tested it by making more time for themselves, and finally used it for their own gain, I guess getting rid of any naysayers along the way. They couldn't let someone who knew how to use it try and reset things. What they didn't count on was the basic principles of chaos theory. Here, I'll read you what my dad wrote, he said it much better than I could."

Clearing his throat, Victor read one of the last passages left behind by his erased father.

_"When it comes down to it, true and permanent alteration of reality would require steps that some of us just aren't willing to take. Because of sensitive dependence on initial conditions, there's no way to turn The Wheel without integrating fatal, cascading errors into the system. Those fools! Why don't they believe Brandon and I? Cheryl is even on our side.

"We started all this with the intention to do good. To make the world better. Just a little. Tiny nudges in the right direction. When did it all go so wrong? We vowed to only move it by inches. Then it was feet, and then yards. Did it want to be turned? Were we doomed from the start? I don't think it was ever possible to use The Wheel for good. Once we started the change things, we changed ourselves too._

"We're treading on the toes of god. And god help us when he decides to step back."

Jill let the onrush of information sink in.

"So, I could be the king of France?"

"It's... highly unlikely, but I suppose if you changed enough stuff radically."

"Wait, so if I became the king of France, what would happen to the me that used to be the king of France? Like, is Jill, Jack right now?"

"No, no, no. That's not how it works. You can't have matter existing simultaneously."

"Wait, so what happens to the king of France? How would they deal with being Jill."

"No. The king of France right now exists only in a quantum state, as a potentiality of you. There is only a single primary continuity. Law of conservation of matter wouldn't allow it."

"Alright, whatever, this shit is making my head hurt. The big one I guess, is why can you and I remember what everything is meant to be and no one else can? Why are we the only ones who know?"

"It's... complicated and simple at the same time. The tricky bit about the whole approach my dad and them took was that they had to work around certain absolutes. Like, let's say, tomorrow I decide to drive off a cliff. Okay? Absolute. Dead. Deader than a door nail. Pretty big stuff. Funeral, tears, family in mourning, all that shit. So we got that set up. You with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. You decide to kill yourself. Drive off a cliff."

"Well, what if there's a guy who wants to become president of the united states, and he manipulates reality to alter possibility so that events are lined up right for him to become president. But, in doing so, or, rather, one of the requirements is me never driving off that cliff."

"So, then you wouldn't be dead? What would that do?"

"If it's an absolute, then you've just entered quantum variables that weren't meant to exist in that reality. Imagine trying to roll a seven on a six-sided dice. And then you somehow roll that seven. Or pull a thirteen of hearts in a poker game."

"What's dice got to do with any of this?"

Victor sighed. "It's not about the dice, it's about the variables that don't mix. Quantum mechanics are great at puzzling out probability and possibility because with quantum computing we can examine many variables simultaneously.

"In theory it would be possible to prevent the alteration of the absolute decision by removing the circumstances in the quantum fabric surrounding the absolute. Kind of like cutting something out of the fabric of reality to get rid of a stain. But, let's say they alter reality so that I never existed, well that would be treading on other absolutes, like the circumstances surrounding my conception, or any absolute decisions made by my parents, or anyone connected to them that may have affected the outcome.

"We, or, our memories specifically, are leftover pieces of the previous quantum state not being properly addressed by the current quantum state. You remember being a boy because you're a girl now. This universe is not equipped to process decisions you made as a completely different person. The same goes for me and my dad. I remember him because he's always been in my life.

"Someone is holding the keys to reality, but they got too greedy with which door they opened. Reality is going to keep rippling back and forth, trying to fix the errors put into it. But each time it tries to fix it, it's going to introduce new variable errors. Chaos theory is fond of the butterfly. A common example is that a hurricane can start because of the way a butterfly flaps its wings a continent away. One air molecule bumps into another just the right way and starts the reaction going."

"That's one strong butterfly."

Victor chuckled a little. "You could say that."

"So, how would we make someone other than you and me aware of what the flying fuck is going on?"

"You'd have to figure out something that's altered in their lives and point it out. They'd think something was always the way it was, but the moment they try and remember when things became like they did they wouldn't be able to figure it out. Just find something where the errors have stacked up and been unable to patch the memories together. The more extreme the better. That little trick you did with the bushes would probably work too."

Jill blew out a breath, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"That's all good... but can we please get the fuck out of this room? I have sweat running down my ass crack." With a mutual sigh of relief they left the sweltering tech hideaway.

"I don't know about you. But I need a drink. You want one?" Wright offered and Slater accepted. The jackal rummaged in the nearly barren fridge and produced two bottles of blue labelled beer. With a well practiced motion, Victor popped the caps off of two bottles and handed one to Jill. When she took the cool glass, their fingertips brushed but just as quickly separated.

"Hey, here's to figuring out how to stop this shit." He offered up as a toast.

Jill clinked her drink against his in agreement and they both took an enthusiastic swig. The lizard girl swirled the flavor of the brew once she had finished her first draught and smacked her lips appreciatively. She regarded the bottle with admiration.

"Dude, this tastes like blueberries. This is the best damn beer Ive ever tasted. I think beer is normally shit. But this shit? This is the shit."

The jackal smiled.

"Glad you like it. Micro-brewing was one of my dad's hobbies." An amiable silence occurred as both contemplated the taste of the alcoholic concoction and any other stray thought that flitted by their idle minds. Victor was the first to break it.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"As long as it's not about the knives." She responded without hesitation.

Victor's brow furrowed in consternation and Jill smirked at his obvious frustration.

"C'mon, what's the big deal?"

"Nice try, but pout all you like."

"Fine. How about this, I bet I can beat you in a match of Soulcalibur. I do, and you tell me."

"What are you, twelve? I'm gonna kick your ass. Break that shit out." She plopped down on the couch from across the generous flat screen television eager for the distraction.

"It's not a kids game when you have this." Victor waved his beer for emphasis. Not one to back down, Jill puffed out her chest and swirled her own drink. The young jackal turned on his Xbox and popped in Soulcalibur V, handing Jill a connected controller. Back in Jack's very young days he would walk down to the now bankrupt arcade and play Soulcalibur two until the sun went down. Although she had lost a little faith in the series as it moved through the home console generations, she kept her skills sharp for such occasions.

Joining his opponent on the couch, Victor made his character choice as first player. Jill grinned evilly when she saw it was Raphael and was glad she was able to pick her specialty: Nightmare. Even though he was easily one of the clunkiest, in the right hands, there was a critical level of finesse that could be extracted from the virtual antagonist. Even though it took a round for Jill to hit her stride, nimble thumbs and two more rounds saw the lizard girl as the winner of the match.

"How 'bout that." She said with a toothy grin. "Hey, I bet you can't guess how many knives I have on me right now. Guess right and I'll play as a different character."

Victor gave her a thorough once over with a critical eye. Smiling wryly, she knew he would never be able to guess it. While she waited she sauntered over to the fridge and pulled another beer and popped it open with a new knife.

"Five." He said confidently. In response she gave the blade she held a little toss, it being a throwing knife after all. It turned and sank into the wall a half-dozen feet from Wright's head.

"Wrong!" She laughed as he ducked reflexively.

"Hey, my wall. Aw, fuck it. Okay, so how many do you have on you?"

"I'm not sure, but it's more than five." She felt the hem of her skirt and counted. "I've got at least seven right here."

Victor held his hands up in defeat. "Alright, alright, you win. But I don't have any cash, so my humiliation will have to do."

"Then you can rub my legs. You have no idea how sore the damn things get hauling my ass around." The liquor had loosened Jill up quite a bit and she sashayed her hips a little.

"Why's that?"

"Cause I'm a hefty mother fucker, that's why." She said with a pull on her blueberry bottle.

"Oh god, the girly fat conscious thing hasn't gotten to you, has it?"

"What? Oh fuck no. I bet you can't guess how much I weigh."

Once again, Victor gave her a thorough once over.

"Two-hundred and twenty seven pounds." He stated factually.

"That's... right. Damn, dude."

Now it was Victor's turn to grin in success.

"Okay, I bet you can't hit this in midair." He tossed an empty can end over end in his hand.

"You're on." Jill pulled out four knives in determination. After a few false starts to throw her off, Victor launched the can away so he was not in the field of fire. The knife caught the slowly twirling can and pinned it like a butterfly to the wall with a solid thwack. Wright had barely seen her arm move so quick had her motion been. He repeated it three more times and there were three more cans stuck into his wall.

"Shit. Have you done this before?"

"Psh, a shitload. It makes a great party trick. I could knock one off your head if you like."

"I'm good. Could you do it upside down though?"

"Heh, yeah that's a new one." She marched flippantly over to the couch, sat, then turned and fell backwards off it, using it to prop herself up while she pulled out two more knives. From Jill's position lying backwards off the couch, she was unknowingly giving Victor a beautiful view of her pussy. He, of course, made no mention and was surreptitiously glancing over to best enjoy the sight.

The position made it difficult for Jill to pull her arm back and did not puncture the next three cans but hit them all the same.

"I'm out of knives." She said, patting her pleated skirt before pulling one last one out of her bandolier. "Wait, no, one right here." Readying herself, she again showed her inexperience in wearing a skirt and spread her legs, giving the jackal an even more bountiful look at her mound. Every exacting detail was on display of her smooth sex and it was only offhandedly that Victor tossed the last can into the air. This time she was dead on.

Wherever things would have gone from there were put on hold as an electronic chime sounded from Jill's bag. She got up, fetched her phone, read the message, and grumbled. Inwardly, Victor wanted to punch something in frustration at the interruption, but was a gentleman and bore his aggravation in silence.

"Shit, my mom's gonna be home early. Are you good to drive?"

"Yeah. I only had the one beer. We need to do this again sometime."

"We should. I had fun. Keep looking through your dad's stuff. And don't forget to call me if you find anything, okay? I'll be memorizing where you live so if you disappear again I'll know where to find you."

****

At home, Jill Slater honestly spent the rest of the day sitting in her room processing all that had happened. She played out the shifting school day in her head, trying to pick apart all the differences between reality and her memory. Then she went on to everything Victor had told her, about the scientists, his father, this strange Machine...

There was so much to take in, that if she did not break it down her head would start to hurt. Slowly, hope that she might have the old Sky back slipped away. She knew that even if there was a way to change reality again, it still would not be the Sky that she wanted. Slater was left with the thorny issue of what she wanted.

After all was said and done, what reality would she be happy with now? No good answer came to mind, and she relegated the question to another time.

It had been one hell of a day, and Jill was more than ready to relax in her own bed. Tomorrow would bring whatever it wanted, at least she had a full nights rest ahead before tomorrow came. Her clock flashed bright red digits reading past midnight. Relaxing at last in pajamas, she stood at the edge of her bed and let herself fall backwards...

****/n-line****

...And concluded her plummet into water.

Not sheets, but a liquid abyss rose up around her cruciform plunge.

Flailing, thrashing, and sputtering, Jill fought the disorientation and threw herself against the closest solid thing. Eyes stinging, she managed to orient herself and grab onto a concrete edge. It was hard like stone and slippery from wetness.

Immediately she became aware of the taste in her mouth and the chlorinated water up her nose. Coughing hard from having inhaled some of the mixture, she realized she had landed in a pool. Listening to the tiny waves lapping up against the smooth concrete, Jill paused, floating as the sound flowed around her mind and senses.

How, by all that was good, holy, and draconic on the earth had she landed in a pool?

Still catching her breath, she heaved herself out of the pool and took stock of her situation.

Drops of water plopped against the hard brick. Loose and wet, hair was plastered to her head and horns. Standing, she felt that she was wearing a two-piece swimsuit and looked down to confirm it. Flagrantly green to match her natural coloring, the padded cloth had a fair bit of support for swimwear to accommodate Jill's gifted physique. Even though a two-piece was worse than a skirt, she managed to contain her alarm and tried to determine her location.

Looking around, she assessed that she was in an outdoor, albeit covered, community pool. Tall, wrought-iron fence comprised two sides of the area while walls connected to the tall roof. After she calmed down and looked around a bit she recognized where she was. This was far from the first time she and a few of her friends had broken into the private community pool late at night. Jill looked around for any signs of company but found none.

This continuity of Jill had not only hopped the fence into the gated community and into the pool area, but had done so alone, late at night, wearing only a bikini. The area was a good three miles away from her house. Had she really not brought anything else with her? Jill looked around, hoping at least for a towel to cover her modesty. It was strange behavior that she could only attribute to a girl with a different mentality. The scars she had earned through her life were not something she was proud of and was wholly embarrassed to put on display except under specific exceptional circumstances. Parading around virtually naked outside with everything on display was not something Jill thought of as a good time.

Finding neither bag nor towel, she patted herself, perhaps having missed something. At the very least she had knives in a pair of black arm bands. There was one small discrepancy that made her raise an eyebrow. Her nipples were still pierced, but the hoops in her ears had changed a little. Instead of four in her right and six in her left, she had two in her right lobe and ten in her left. The detail confirmed her suspicion that some of her past decisions had been altered, leading her to the pool that night instead of being in bed at home.

Just as she gave up her self-examination and was about ready to leave for home a group of young men crept in through the gate to the pool area. A shark, ram, brown and white dappled horse, rhino, and human came through the gate. They all wore dark, nondescript clothes, and the boy at the rear had a camera trained squarely on Jill. They did not appear surprised at all to see her there, indeed, at least two of them were grinning in anticipation.

The point man, the shark, by the name of Shawn Nelson was the only that Jill knew personally. Jill knew the rest them only by reputation, knew what they did, and felt terror sink its claws into her soul. The human boy Terry and his camera, confirmed Jill's fears. They were fellows of unsavory backgrounds and terrible intentions.

They made and sold rape pornography.

Terry Price was the scrawniest but did a lot of their video editing work. His neutral demeanor hid a sadistic streak that involved getting closeups of the victim's faces while they were being pressed into the dirt getting fucked from behind. Scott Bailey was the thick, tall rhino, and along with Arthur Coleman, the dappled stallion, provided a lot of the muscle for the group. Each was individually capable of snapping normal people in half. Mark Green, the ram, may have been smaller comparatively, but he was fastest out of the bunch and in fact enjoyed chasing down runners.

Shawn, though, was truly the nastiest among them. His mark was not solely sexual violation, it was violence too. Any girl unlucky enough to receive his attentions was not only subjected to a thorough and brutal rape, but a beating both vicious and purposefully cruel. Although he had yet to kill, it was only a matter of time. When Shawn really got going, the group's victims were not just traumatized, but hospitalized with bruises to broken bones.

Distributed through proxy servers, their work could be found floating around the internet. Having been at it long enough to be infamous, yet not long enough to get caught, the group knew what they were doing. Significant amount of obfuscation went into the videos. Visual blocks obscured any distinguishing physical marks and audio distortion made voice recognition impossible. Even though it might have been a matter of time until the law descended on the five, they had many clever practices to insure their tracks were covered. There was a reason that Jill had only laid eyes on Shawn.

Jill felt herself start to physically shake.

She knew what those looks meant, had seen that look in Shawn's face when he told his stories around the quarry. The five converged with violence and lust in their eyes. If they caught and subdued her, Jill would be beaten near to unconsciousness, and gang-raped by each of them. Time seemed to slow and speed at the same time. Her feet felt slow and they converged on her faster than she would have thought, their feet slapping across the wet cement.

In three breaths, Jill Slater's body was primed for the fight or flight response. The very sharpest part of her knew her odds in the enclosed pool area was not good for her. The group outnumbered her literally five to one. They could afford to make mistakes and she could not. But with the slippery conditions, odds did not favor her. One slip and they would have her. That made her decision easy.

Tactical retreat.

This close it was impossible to hide her intentions but the group made the error of not coming at both sides at once, confident they could catch her while she had still been in the pool. Fortunately there was another gate located in the opposite fence, and careful not to slip this early, Jill ran for it. Even though she lost a split second crashing through the uncooperative and heavy iron portal, she kept just ahead and got out into the open.

There were shouts mixed with laughter as they regarded her flight with derision and gave chase across the well manicured lawns of the private suburb.

With ground-eating strides, Jill opened up the distance between her and her pursuers. Racing through the darkness, she cut loose with her sprint. Like an elegant predator, her prodigious leg muscles rippled with exertion. Aware of every step, Jill felt the plant, the pull, the stride, and the push as her legs worked to aid in her escape. The very air seemed to lift her up as she went faster and faster. The lizard girl tore across the grassy hills, hearing the howl of her passage in her ears. Teeth gritted to the point of jaw strain she sailed over the top of each small lump of earth, skidding briefly down each incline before picking up her sprint again.

Only five steps behind, the rape squad was not about to let her get away. Her initial resistance and quick reaction time had allowed her the modicum of lead. Yet she was not built for an endurance race. If it came to that, she was bound to lose. So, with the circumstances unfavorable, Jill was taking measures to make the odds favorable. Up ahead was a fenced soccer field that shared a border with the edge of the community. If she could just reach it, she would have a flat plane of maneuverability options. She did not trust the small hills that were so poorly lit. Just like back near the pool, all it would take is one mistake on her part. Just one, and they would be on her.

A fifteen foot fence barred her passage. Still sprinting, Jill leaped for all she was worth. For just a second it felt as though she was flying. Limbs outstretched she latched onto the chain-link fence, clinging to the wire. Scrambling up the fence, she reached the top in time for her pursuers to hit the fence too. Flipping like a gymnast over the peak, she slammed her feet back into the opposite side, actually dislodging Mark from the barrier who fell back with a curse. She dropped the rest of the way and hit the ground with a careful roll.

Even though it was not in use, the community had the wealth to support around the clock illumination for late night games.

Jill crossed a third of the field as she heard the group piling over the fence behind her and decided there would be the best place. She had to slow anyway, not wanting to tire herself out any further, legs already burning from her sprint. Slater was finished with her flight and was ready for the fight. She could have gone on to try and climb some bleachers and hop the last fence out of the area, but there was no guarantee open street would offer sanctuary. It was best, she thought, to attack now while she had the energy, initiative, and was not cornered.

She turned and slowly paced back as the rape gang slowed as well, enjoying their games.

"Yeah, gotcha now, bitch." Shawn Nelson boomed arrogantly.

"Dayum, bitch is fine. Can't wait to get a piece of that." Remarked Terry.

"I call first fuck." Claimed a slightly bruised Mark.

"No way, I'm the one who got where the skank was, I got first dibs." Claimed the shark.

"Aw fuck. Good thing I like sloppy seconds." Mark grinned at the thought of payback that Nelson would dish out.

"Yo, how much do you think we can get for a video of a bitch this fine gettin' fucked." Scott wondered aloud.

"Hey! Hey, bitch! You hear that? You're gonna get fucked! Fuckin' raped!" Shouted Arthur. A chorus of laughter and other catcalls followed.

Confident they could take the lone girl in a bikini, the group continued their sedate pace, savoring the moment of their victory. Arrogance oozed from their stances. Arrogance had dictated their lives and actions. A certain, nigh-suicidal ego was necessary for the gall to think they would get away with their despicable actions.

Jill could feel their gazes sliding over her exposed skin like oily fingers, leaving her feeling sullied and vulnerable.

The iron of her will was tempered by the steel at her fingertips.

Backing up slowly, Jill hid her true intentions well. What she was really doing was lining up for her first strike. She gripped one of the spike-knives and pulled it calmly, cocked back her arm, and with her distance and speed matched with the leading fur, released. Honed by practice, the motion was purely ingrained in her muscle memory. It required no thought whatsoever other than the will to set the chain of actions into motion.

She was careful in her preparations. It would only work once.

Completing a full rotation twice, the heavy spike sunk three inches into Shawn's right eye. The shark's head snapped back with the force of the hit. A meaty thwack reverberated in the silence that followed the others shock. Then Nelson started to scream. He fell, curling in agony on the ground, convulsing uncontrollably. Ocular fluid and blood gushed sluggishly around the protruding hilt. In reflexive desperation, Shawn grabbed the handle to try and extract the steel, yet it proved too difficult, stuck fast into the bone. He would bleed out mere minutes later.

Terry, in the spirit of a true cameraman, caught it all on film.

"Holy shit." Observed Mark. The rest could not find their words. Jill had chosen her target with care, knowing that taking Shawn out of the fight meant she stood a chance. Without their leader, the rest would be caught flat-footed.

Jill crossed her arms, reaching to the blades hidden underneath the bicep bands and pulled two more spikes from their scabbards of nylon and spandex. The straight steel was more stiletto than actual fighting blade. What they lacked in length and breadth, they made up for in solidity. With an acute distal taper, the thick, narrow blade was made from a piece of solid stainless steel designed for strength and minimalistic efficiency.

For a second she poised like a striking snake, index finger laid along the spines of the weapons. Reaffirmed was her form. There was no separation between flesh and metal. They were one and singular. From shoulder to steel point, her arm was an unbroken line.

Quiet rite complete, Jill clenched the spike in her fist properly.

"Get 'er!" The ram shouted. Shaking off their surprise, the four remaining attackers converged on their target. But Slater was already moving.

Dashing forward, Jill closed to a more favorable distance and pivoted right, her body flowing in a smooth contour. Turning her forward momentum into an angle, she came at the thick-necked horse so that his companions had to go around him to get to her. He made a quick grab for her wrist. With a deft motion she plunged the tip of her right blade into his arm. Following through with her left, she punctured his abdomen just under the ribs.

She disengaged herself with quick back-steps and waited for the next move to present itself. Down, but not out, the horse stumbled and applied pressure to his injuries as he grunted in pain.

Scott was the first to come around the wounded equine while Mark hesitated and Terry continued filming. They were all brutes in one way or another, but Scott Bailey was by far the most physically intimidating. He might have had a promising career as a linebacker had he not been charged with aggravated assault four times before he was eighteen. He came at Jill like a bulldozer, fully intent on trampling her beneath his sheer physical ferocity.

Something that Jill had learned though was that raw strength when not tempered with flexibility became more of a hindrance in a real fight. The rhino cocked back an arm for one knockout punch. In the time it took him to complete the swing, Jill had stabbed him four times and laid open his throat. With the way the punch left the rhino open, the lizard-girl had been able to sweep underneath it, planting blade points into him like a pincushion before ending with a hook strike into the meat of his neck. Again in a preset muscle triggers, Slater performed the throat cut with surgical precision, first jabbing into the side, then twisting and ripping her blade point forward. It was difficult. The neck had a lot of tendon and gristle that had to be sawed through, yet she had good leverage and the damage was fatal when she wrenched her steel free.

Arterial gore splashed across her arms, face, and chest. The sticky fluid was warm as it flowed between her generous breasts. A fair amount found her snout, tainting both her tongue and nose with the heady tang of blood. Gurgling through the hole, the rhino pawed at his neck, suddenly unable to breathe around the liquid.

Terry finally had the sensibility to drop his camera and join the remaining three in trying to take Jill down. Mark and Terry both attacked as one, and close enough to support each other.

"Grab 'er arms! Her arms!" Terry shouted. Jill tried to back away but was not fast enough, not wanting to trip and fall. Holding herself in a front stance so as to have equal reach with both blades she was not looking for the right hook Mark threw her way. The punch took her strongly enough that one of her teeth caught the ram's knuckle, tearing flesh. Even though enough adrenaline was running through her brain to completely shut off the pain response, the hit still stunned her long enough for Terry and Mark to grab hold of her arms while avoiding her blades.

In that split second, Arthur closed in and delivered two merciless punches into her abdomen. The stallion's clenched fist impacted her bare midriff with a dull whump. Jill's head was still a little foggy from the Ram's punch so when Coleman hit her, all she could do was double over. Fortunately the two holding her arms were just getting started trying to wrest the knives out of her grip of iron.

With a leering smirk, the equine grabbed the middle of the bikini top and yanked. The flimsy ties at her back and neck came loose. Arthur cast the top aside and drank in the sight of Jill's bared breasts. His grin fell a little as he stared at the blood of his compatriots contaminating the view. Then he looked up into the lizard-girl's slit-pupil eyes and paused. In that violent interval, there passed a moment of stillness as Mark and Terry too held for a moment, distracted first by Jill's tits, then by the way she locked Arthur with a stare.

Although she was not consciously aware of it, the gender-bent youth did not have the eyes of a victim, had not resigned herself to prey. No, she was not some pretty gazelle to be run down and made a meal. The moment the five rapists had given chase and climbed that fence, they had entered Slater's arena. Even before she had pulled her knives, Jill was committed. Only the analytical side of her mind recognized that her bosom, acid green nipple and all, was open to the air and the feel of sticky blood on her skin.

When Coleman looked into his intended target's eyes, what he saw was not submission. It was not even hate, rage, or spite.

What he saw, and what the other two saw reflected between them, was murder.

The yawing void that was her sharply pointed pupil swallowed them up. It was not that she intended to try and kill them. Written in the crimson ink of their already fallen comrades was the pact that they were already dead.

In fact, blood aided in her escape as she thrashed and twisted violently, wrenching her slick arms loose from her captors. Having kept hold of her knives despite all her attacker's attempts to the contrary, she slashed the ram and human's hands along the way. Perhaps she struggled a little too hard because once broken free, Jill overcompensated and stumbled. As she tried to roll free it was Arthur again who stayed on her.

He delivered a swift kick, still trying to dislodge her weapons. Jill took the blow on her shoulder and countered, driving her left blade underneath his kneecap and leaving it there. Sinking all five inches under the bone with a jarring crunch, the piece of steel locked the joint in place. Off-balance because he was unable to straighten his leg, Arthur fell.

Rising even as her enemy toppled, Jill pulled her last spare spike from its sheathe.

She did not wait for the meat sacks to come to her. Jill bolted forward, blood-stained and bare-chested. Like a gladiatrix, she fell on terry with furious abandon. The pale-skinned boy raised his arms to ward off the blows but Jill carved him up all the same. Although they were meant primarily for stabbing, her spikes still held a good edge. Using this, Slater laid Terry open to the bone with a surgeon's grace. With his wrists and forearms flayed like an anatomy book, the human male thought he had gotten off easy when Slater moved on to Mark. In seconds though he began to feel dizzy, his life then measured in beats of his heart, running at nearly two-hundred beats a minute. Each throbbing clench in his chest let more life dribble out of his severed ulnar veins. In seconds he felt weaker and soon, unable to stand.

Hypovolemia took hold, dragging Terry into shock. His initial relief offset the initial anxiety, but soon confusion set in as his sight slowly shrank to darkness.

Mark Green had felt confident when they had embarked on their journey of sexual assault. That confidence had all melted when he watched Shawn go down with ten inches of steel sticking out of his eye. To Mark, it was about survival after that. Taking Jill down was the surest path, in his mind, to that goal. Even then, having just seen her savagely maul Terry and with Arthur still trying to get the knife out of his knee, running seemed to be a much better option. A tiny shred of loyalty to his conspirators locked him down with indecision. As he started to flee he turned to look back and Jill was on him, scorching his soul with those murderous eyes.

Catching the ram from behind, her left blade thumped into his chest. The tip of the spike slipped between his ribs and found his heart while the other carved a smile across his belly. Flesh, muscle, and fat parted as Jill opened the ram's intestines to the air. Perhaps, without the knives, it might have been a lover's embrace with the lizard's dress and her arms around him instead of a deadly one. Heart punctured, the ram put pressure to his chest with one hand and kept his guts from spilling out with the other. Jill released him and Mark fell to his knees, trying to keep all things vital from fleeing his body.

With a shout of grim determination, Arthur managed to gain a solid grip and yanked the nail preventing his knee from bending out of his joint. The blood made it difficult, but he managed. Somehow through grit and will he rose to his feet. Keeping most of his weight on his good leg the equine flipped the knife over and was ready to return the favor on the bitch that had wounded him. Bleeding from the arm, chest, and now knee, he limped towards her.

Jill considered her approach for a moment, taking his re-purposed blade into account. She did not run, she walked, calmly and surely towards the last man standing. Weakly, he made a stab for her with the last of his strength. The lizard-girl batted aside his arm and opened up more slices in his flesh, nearly severing two of his fingers. White bone stood out brightly in the harsh light of the field.

Reversing her grip on the spike in her right fist, she brought the blade point down into the stallion's head just beneath one of his ears. Like an ice pick, the concentrated force managed to crack the equine's skull and pierced into his brain. In his death throes, the stallion grabbed the forearm connected to the puncturing blade, leaving another crimson hand print on her flesh. He pawed and twitched as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Jill let the horse's own weight remove the embedded blade as he thrashed with a sickening sucking sound.

Scarlet tears adorned Jill's dark body like a ruby sheen in the light. It dripped from her blades, pooled in the waist of her swimsuit bottoms, and streaks of it were in her hair. She stalked over to the surviving ram. Without mercy, she watched him struggling to breathe and stay alive.

"Fuck... Me..." Admitted Mark in resignation to his fate. He gazed up from his knees at the woman he had set out earlier to conquer as he tried to hold in his intestines and weeping heart.

"Yeah. Fuck you." Jill stated with stonewater in her voice and mind. The ram collapsed from shock and exsanguinated soon after. He might have had the most promising future of all in the form of major league baseball. It was too bad that through Shawn he found rape to be the best way to get his rocks off.

One and all, they had fallen to her knives.

Alone except for the cooling bodies, Jill began to process what had just happened.

Despite the frigidity of her demeanor while dispatching them, Jill was not fearless. In fact, fear dictated her daily life. The fact that she had a habitually formed need to carry knives on her person at all times was testament to that.

It was not the blood that was indisputably on her hands that shook her to the core. For the five young men, she felt no pity of remorse for her actions. It was how close she had come to being raped and possibly killed. Assault was something that happened to others. Not to her. And the unexpectedness which preceded the events was unconscionable. One second she had been in her room, the next, under attack. Home was supposed to be holy, sacred, untouchable space. Yet from her very bed she had been thrust into the absolute worst possible scenario. It was inexcusable and spoke to the deepest, most paranoid, and secluded parts of her soul.

Jill was good. Without the edge given by sharpened steel, there was a very real chance that they would have been overpowered her

At last she understood the severity in which Victor spoke of the repercussions of altering the quantum lines of possibility. A new, and even more terrifying thought entered Jill's mind that sent shivers through her soul.

If reality was trying to fix itself and altering persons or events to try and accommodate the forced changes, what if it sent her back? Or, what if things shifted again, like her from her bed to the pool, but instead had her in the process of being raped. She shivered at the recollections of her mind running through what would happen if they had really caught, subdued, and disarmed her. An overwhelming need to distance herself from the scene emerged. Even dead, the rape gang posed threat through quantum probability of having not been killed.

A terrible vision of everything that could have gone wrong flashed through her mind and she kneeled in the cool grass, rocking slightly, trying to overcome her shock. She spent an unknown time performing the infantile gesture while the young woman slowly reclaimed control of her faculties. Walking, almost as if in a dream, she took back her knives and in her strange state of mind, she stared at the camera where Terry had dropped it. The recording light was still on, having recorded almost the whole attack. Some subconscious urging made her grab it.

Jill was afraid, and not knowing what else to do, she ran. Not knowing where else to go, she ran to the only safe place she could think of.

****

At two in the morning, Victor Wright roused himself to the sound of frantic pounding and repeated rings of his doorbell echoed through his lonely house. Paranoid at first who it could be at such a time, he checked the peephole and, shocked, opened his front door. Practically coated from the waist up in scarlet and reeking of coppery blood and chlorine, Jill stood outside Victor's home. During the run there a lot of the blood had dried, flaking and caking in her hair and cracking as she moved. Even blood soaked as it was she had replaced her top out of some shame.

"Help me." She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Oh god. What happened? Are you okay?"

Unable to run anymore, she plopped down right there on the front step.

"Y-y-yeah, it-it's..." She blew out a labored breath. "Fine. It's... It's not mine. Not my blood. They attacked me. I attacked them back. Here, have a camera." She proffered the blood-stained electronic, still dutifully recording. Victor Wright considered it for a moment, and took the camera.

"Go around back and use the hose. Try to touch as little as you can. I'll get you a towel and some fresh clothes. We'll burn the rest, okay? This has everything?" He pointed to the camera and she nodded. "Then I'll get to work. Don't worry. I'll make sure they never find you."

Jill took him at his word and he shut the door. Still quaking in her skin, Slater slowly made her way around into Victor's back yard, found the garden hose and turned on the water. Ice cold, the spray made her flinch away at first but brought much needed clarity to her senses. It was not quite as comfortable as an actual cold shower would have been, but it did the job. Slowly she washed away the blood, watching pink water slink through the grass.

While she tried to untangle the mess of her matted hair, Victor appeared at his back door with a towel, grey sweatpants, a fleece hoodie, a bottle of lighter fluid, ammonia, and some matches. He pointed out a pile of wood and an iron fire pit with a few lawn chairs around it. She nodded in understanding and continued to cleanse herself while he ducked back inside. After a time and she was satisfied, she cleaned everything she touched with ammonia. Setting a few logs, her soiled swimsuit, and her knives into the fire pit she gave the whole pile a generous dousing of lighter fluid and lit the whole thing. Only when it was thoroughly ablaze and she had added a few more logs did she at last start to relax.

Feeling more comfortable than she ought in the warm, dry garments, Jill sat in one of the fabric lawn chairs and watched the dancing flame. She was not too worried about her knives. The fire would burn away the blood without being nearly hot enough to warp the metal. She had of course doused them in ammonia for good measure. For hours it felt like she tended the blaze, nursing it with fresh wood and turning over its coals.

As Jill had been running from the soccer field and the dead rape gang to Victor's house, she had received what felt like a vision from hell. But it had not been from hell, it had been from the threads of fate that chased her there, trying to entrap her. She had pushed back for all she had been worth and had narrowly averted a truly terrible end. In the loneliness she found herself in, she dwelled on what she had seen.

Shawn caught her in the pool area. He slapped her hard enough to send her to the hard floor and ripped off her swimsuit with barely any effort. He wanted her first. Jill tried to crawl away on her hands and knees, but he caught her by the ankle even as he unzipped his pants. First he was groping her, then he was thrusting into her. Terry was getting his patented closeups even as Nelson clawed down her back and yanked her hair hard enough to make Jill cry out. His shoved his pointed shark dick into her with barely a wad of spit and had ripped her delicate sex immediately. The pain was almost more than she could bear, being in such a tender place. She cried because of how wrong, how violating it was.

With brute force, he hauled her front up off the ground by the hair knotted in his fist and reached around to caress a breast. She whimpered pitiably, begging him to stop, for someone to save her. With a cackle and a twist, Shawn yanked the silver barbell out of Jill's nipple. Flesh tore and blood splattered across the cement. Jill really started screaming then. Unfortunately that was enough to cause Nelson to cum, his pumping hips filling up the lizard girl's insides with seed to swirl around with the other fluids in her cunt.

Climbing off the girl, he let Jill fall to her side to curl around her mutilated breast. Then Shawn held up the bloody body jewelry as a sign of his conquest to the roars of his peers.

Then the next had his turn.

And then the next.

And then the next.

And finally, after the last one was done, they left her with jizz oozing out of her pussy and ass, both holes having been brutally fucked. While the girl lay there, empty yet alive, to be found early in the morning by the pool custodian, they five would go to a bar for drinks and replay the footage over and over for themselves and others. Every pained look on Jill's face freeze-framed in the minds of her rapists and every sick fuck who watched the ordeal on instant playback over...

And over...

And over...

And over...

And over...

And over...

Even as Jill watched the cut thread of possibility play out like a highlight reel in her mind, she watched the blood boil off the steel of her knives.

****

Finally at nearly five in the morning, Victor emerged and sat down in the other unoccupied chair. He still wore his own pajamas and a laptop on his knees. Jill was still staring into the fire.

"I watched the video." He stated.

Jill said nothing, feeling the footage had probably spoken for itself.

"Are you okay?" Victor prodded.

Aside from her jaw tightening briefly, the teen gave no sign of stress.

"Yeah. I'm fine. So what were you in there doing? I assume you didn't call the cops."

"No. After watching... that. I decided it would be best to rely on something more solid than your word that it was self-defense. I made it go as viral as I could. I sent copies to a few news stations through proxy servers and some message boards too. Don't worry, I edited every shot that could identify you but made sure to leave everything of them in. It's a good thing you didn't talk much."

Terry, had he been buried, would have been rolling in his grave.

At first Jill was angry and skeptical. Time had given her a cooler head though, and after a little thought, she saw the cleverness in Victor's plan.

"Even if the cops do manage to identify me. There should be enough of a media shitstorm that they'll have to let me go. I can just claim the desire to remain anonymous because of the... shit... I don't know... so that I could stay out of the spotlight or something? Rape never being reported and whatnot. I'm sure I can bullshit something. Besides, there should be more focus on five upstanding young men being horrific rapists than the girl who put an end to their reign of terror. Reporters eat scandal and shit like that up."

"You do catch on quick." He paused and gave her a strong look. "I'm... really glad you're okay, Jill." The moment passed and he handed her the laptop. "Here, this is what I ended up posting." The jackal reached over and hit play.

The view from the camera swayed a little as five young men stealthily converged on a gated swimming pool. They even went so far as to talk about their plans to gang rape the girl that they knew they would find there.

****

And the video concluded with the unknown female picking up the camera for one last panoramic view of the bodies before the feed cut.

Detective Lance Greenfield closed the laptop and regard the black and green lizard girl sitting in the seat opposite him in the interrogation room. The well-dressed tiger looked evenly at the girl. Jill Slater matched his stare, giving away no recognition and no reaction to the video.

"Shawn Nelson, son of city councilman, Jerry Nelson. Did you know him?"

She remembered his whimpers as he tried to pull the knife out of his eye even as she was gutting Mark.

Jill shook her head.

"Terry Price, what about him?"

Jill recalled his cologne. It was actually pretty nice. Of course, after he vomited from blood shock it was overpowered.

"Doesn't ring any bells."

"Scott Bailey?"

Jill remembered how like a side of meat the rhino had been. He had that consistency while she had stabbed him. Like tough meat. The train of thought during the ordeal made her wonder if she could carve him up and serve him for dinner.

"Arthur Coleman"

Slater recalled more than anything about the horse the look of surprise at seeing the bones in his sliced fingers so much it almost made her laugh.

"Mark Green?"

She remembered wishing she could pull out his teeth because he crazy smile creeped her out while he held in his own guts.

"Never heard of 'em."

"Do any of these names mean anything to you, Miss Slater?"

All the strange, awkward details of her trauma flashed through her mind but she let slip not a word as she indicated the negative to the policeman yet again.

The other detective, a smoldering tan bunny who had been silent up until that point slammed her fists into the table.

"I should arrest you right now. I know you did it you shallow cunt!" Jill had stayed silent through the tirade.

Lance regarded his partner with enough shock for both of them.

If the bunny thought that physical intimidation would work on Jill, then she was in for a rude shock. Using her rage like a buffer, the youth was able to shrug off every threat the adult made.

"You seem to think you're here under your rights as a teenager. You would be wrong. As a teenager, underage though you may be, the United States of America recognizes you as a fully formed being with constitutional rights just like mommy and daddy. No, you're here as a student. Where, I think you'll find, you are not a fully formed being. Illegal search and seizure goes out the window. Along with freedom of speech, right to legal counsel, and cruel and unusual punishment. All those thorny little restrictions, suddenly gone.

"As a student, you are only allowed the liberties we see fit to give."

"You done? Because if you are, then are you going to arrest me or not? Because I still have no idea what you're talking about. I've never met these guys before." Jill challenged.

Although tempted, she did not add that they might have deserved it.

Jill remained calm because she was not in a police station, she was at her school in a spare room given to the police to use by the school's principle normally meant for one on ones with the school counselor. The small room had two chairs, a metal table, and a mostly soundproof door. She knew it was just routine questioning because she was only one in a long line of students being interviewed for information regarding the boys found dead in a soccer field.

"Detective Hyrshire, that is enough! You may leave." Greenfield scolded with thunderous authority. The bunny huffed and sputtered, but obeyed, slamming the door on her way out. Lance waited for the air in the small room to settle before continuing.

"I'm very sorry for my partner's actions. She's been... aggressive lately and I'm not sure why. This whole thing has been stressful for all of us." Jill picked up on the little tidbit instantly.

The tiger regarded the teenager in front of him with a blank expression and measuring eyes. The middle-aged officer steepled his digits on the table and began.

"Just so the record is straight: no, we actually have no proof whatsoever that you're connected to the murders. This is just routine questioning. I'm going to be candid with you, Miss Slater, this has been difficult. One of the boy's fathers has friends in high places and is insisting, despite all evidence to the contrary, that his child could never have been involved with the despicable delinquents making such horrid pornography."

Detective Lance's tone made it very clear what he thought of that assertion.

"By the same token, my captain is under tremendous public pressure to not pursue this matter in the least bit. Based on the edited footage leaked all across the internet that was then gobbled and regurgitated over and over by nearly every local news station. It actually beat out that flu outbreak on the east coast on a few channels. Whoever this mystery girl is, she's being lauded as a hero.

"We're stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"You have to show that you're actively pursuing the investigation without actually finding the one responsible. That way you make the crowd and the private interests happy." Jill concluded.

The corner of Lance's mouth twitched lightly.

"You're words. Not mine." He stated. "In any case, if you do remember anything that you think might be pertinent to our case, please don't hesitate to contact the tip line we've set up. You're free to go, Miss Slater, and thank you for your time."

Jill stood up to go, but something the police officer said had stuck in her mind. Something that she could not ignore.

"Detective..." She sat back down.

"Mhm."

"You said that your partner has been acting strangely. Have you noticed anything else wrong lately?" Lance looked at her questioningly.

"Why do you ask?"

The young woman regarded the adult carefully and made up her mind. On the table was a pen and the lizard girl picked it up.

"What is this?"

Lance wondered briefly if the teen had come as unhinged as his partner and answered just as Jill made a strange pulling gesture.

"It's a pe-"

****/n-line****

"encil..." Lance got a strange look on his face as his tongue twisted involuntarily into subjective phonetics. "But it was a pen..."

"Then why did you say pencil?"

"Because it is a pencil... wait... how did you do that?"

The key of what she had just done was that Jill was not just accessing and shifting to a world where the thing she was holding was a pencil, but shifting to a world where detective Lance knew that it had been a pencil. She was not just making an error, she was exploiting it, intentionally keeping the paradox intact. Before she had just been able to see the threads, but since her attack she had become aware of what the threads each led to.

"It's not sleight of hand if that's what you're wondering. I can do that too if it would make you feel better." She said smugly.

"Look, kid, I'm not in the mood for whatever little tricks you think are funny."

Jill could tell she had cracked the outer surface of his belief, but it would take something the detective really could not rationalize for it to be effective. Looking around for other invisible strands, she notice a good clump hovering above a corner of the table. Tugging it gave her a fierce migraine she soldiered on. Though the thing gave her a great deal of resistance at first, with detective Greenfield giving her the look of the sane humoring the disturbed, it gave way with one hard tug...

****/n-line****

Detective Lance Greenfield felt his teeth go on edge and he stood up quickly, unnerved to the core. The table that he had been sitting at, the metal table, was now a light pine. Identical in shape and proportion, just made of a different material. Truly staggered, he reached out a paw and rapped hard on the worn varnish. Not a hollow ring, but a solid thunk echoed back through his knuckles.

Although she had smiled at Greenfield's face when she changed the pen, Jill did not smile this time. The writing utensil had been little more than a parlor trick compared to what she had just done. Her face was grim with empathy, remembering her own feelings of vertigo and disorientation at learning the plasticity of reality. A tiny part of her mind was also focused on the misdirection of it all. The detective had been digging a little too closely at something the young lizard would have rather not contemplated. Something that was better left alone.

"Now do you understand? Someone else needs to know about this. Needs to be doing something about this. Us kids shouldn't be cleaning up the adult's messes." She spat with contempt and weariness. Her thoughts turned to Victor and his father's unnatural absence. "What do we do when the ones we love disappear and we don't even know they're gone?"

Again Jill got up to leave.

"You seem like a smart man, Detective Lance. You might not believe me, but there is something going on. I urge you to look into it."

With the cryptic warning, Slater finally did leave.

****

Detective Lance Greenfield was a simple man, and enjoyed simple things. Life for the tiger at the moment was anything but simple.

He was in his early thirties with a wife, two kids, and a third on the way. He had a few years of payments left on a house in a nice neighborhood that was in a well credited school district, and drove a sensible car. The tiger had grown up torn between being a fireman, a veterinarian, and a police officer. After youth had been tempered by experience, he had decided he wanted to solve crimes as a homicide and special victims investigator.

It had been a long and grueling day. It had began with a call early in the morning to a grisly crime scene. From there it was interview after interview. At least he had been spared informing any of the next of kin, but the media piranhas that were closing in made the whole thing a feeding frenzy. Federal support had been called in because of the attention the murders were getting.

Normally, Lance did not bring work home, and twelve hours later was driving home with work sitting in the passenger seat in the form of a manilla folder. Within the folder was the complete juvenile record of a one Jill Slater and made for some very interesting reading. Still not entirely sure of what he had seen, the tiger had indeed started noticing little things. Things that, as a police officer, made him worry a great deal. When he got hold of Slater's records, his worry only grew and he resolved to pay a more personal visit to the girl at the next best opportunity.

But first, he wanted to be home, spend at least a few enjoyable moments with his family, and try to forget about the five boys dead in a field and the girl who performed impossible magic tricks. He parked his car in his garage, stepped out, and intended to do just that as he walked into the kitchen through the connecting door.

His wife, Annabelle Greenfield was a petite tigress who also enjoyed the simpler things in life, like being a housewife to a loving and financially stable husband. She was in the kitchen, wearing a plain, robin's egg blue dress that came to her knees. Lance took a moment to lean against the fridge, just enjoying the sight of her. They shared a love for one another that was utterly uncompromising. The only thing that rivaled their devotion for each other was their commitment to being good parents, to showing their offspring love, affection, and raising them to be just and good.

In that second, as he reminisced and lavished in the moment while also thinking about the future, he found himself at peace. Annabelle was tending to the hand-molded beef with great care and attention. With one hand she added a few spices while rested the other on her gently protruding stomach. Roughly seven months along in her third pregnancy, her belly was a generous round swell on her smallish frame. Carrying her first child had been just about living hell. Morning sickness, aches, cramps, unbearably strange cravings, and more. Everything that could have gone wrong had, especially in her mind after over twenty hours of labor.

Lance had done some serious sweet talking to convince her to have another. Their second, their daughter, now turning three, had been a walk in the park by compare. It had not taken much convincing for the third, and this one was the easiest yet. Early on, it had been almost possible to forget that she was pregnant at all! Aside from her feet being a little tender, things could not have been going more smoothly for them.

"How was your day at work, hun?" She asked with a quick glance to her sweetheart.

"Rather rough to be honest. You'll probably hear about it in the news before long. What's that I smell?" The detective set down the folder on the kitchen table and loosened his tie a little.

"I thought you might like a little something before the kids got home and I got dinner started." She looked at him and smiled with the softness of an angel. "It's got bacon in it." The lilting voice of his wife seemed to drift on the smell of the cooking burger, scenting the little meal not just with culinary excellence, but affection.

"Hun?" She asked, concerned when he did not immediately respond.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay? You seem tense." She looked over her shoulder.

Lance had not even fully realized himself how much Jill had gotten under his skin. How the whole thing rubbed his fur the wrong way.

"Oh, just... something that one of my interviews said is kinda bugging me. That's all."

"Do you wanna fuck me? Would that make you feel better, sweetheart?"

Anna's husband perked up faster than a kid at Christmas. The thought got him going where even the luring scent of bacon could not. She saw the grin creep onto his muzzle and giggled.

"Oh, is this what you want?" She asked coyly, lifting the front of her dress to reveal that she was in fact, not wearing any underwear. Just beneath the swell of her belly was a teasing hint of her pink slit. She turned down the heat on the stove to a low simmer. "Well? C'mon then." Anna strutted into the living room, hiked her dress up around her waist and climbed up onto the arm of their felt couch. Lance grabbed the bottle of grapeseed oil she had been cooking with and followed.

Falling forward, her ass was raised high into the air. At the angle and the spread of her legs, the soft outer lips of her pussy were parted. Her teardrop shaped slit was ripe and appealing. In no less than two steps, Lance had left his pants and underwear behind. The moment her rump came up, the faint scent of her arousal and puffy slit drew Lance like a moth to a flame. Blindfolded, he could have picked out the scent of his woman.

Being a couple having recently celebrated their ten-year anniversary that still had a good sex-life, they had of course fucked on every piece of furniture in the whole house a dozen times over. The couch was nice because with Anna's knees on the arm of the couch and her front sloping down into the cushions, her belly was comfortably cradled while her pussy was at the perfect height for Lance to fuck her without having to crouch or strain.

With one hand he slicked his cock in grapeseed oil then set aside the bottle. His dick was hard enough to break concrete in record time. Still slippery, he rubbed the excess off on his wife's exposed crotch. She quivered and gave her rump a little shake at his touch. Soft moisture clung along her swollen labia. Then his hand was replaced with his tool. Rubbing the head of his cock teasingly, he dipped up through her lips to rub against his wife's clit. He knew just the way to do it to drive her mad. Although she did not always cum during their quickies, she always enjoyed the foreplay.

Bringing his cock back up, he caught the tip of his rod in her pussy and slowly started sinking into his lover's sweet honey pot. Being pregnant, Anna's love tunnel was extra ripe and extra tight. He savored every luxurious inch of his wife's clenching pussy as it gripped his invading cock. One long thrust later, Lance had sunk balls deep with a contented sigh and his wife with a moan. With every bit of her velveteen walls undulating around her husband's manhood, Anna felt nice and full. Their third child putting constant pressure on her in all kinds of ways meant there was a special completeness when she had Lance inside her.

They had fucked long and wild with the passion of youth that had never diminished in the slow burn of their many years of love.

He pulled back about half of his ten inches of cock and pushed back in, finding a good pace while easing Anna's ass into the proper alignment. His crotch was soon coated in their intermingling juices while he sawed in an out of the luxuriously layed out pussy before him. Steadily increasing his pace, Lance soon reached a comfortable rhythm for his fucking. With a cathartic moan, the tiger let the stress of the day melt away. No thought entered his mind except for the feeling of making hard love to his life partner.

As his pleasure built, he increased his stride. Feeling his pleasure build, Lance held off from cumming right away just so he could really enjoy the spontaneous fucking. But it was not to last as he felt his rising orgasm bid and found the call just too tempting to ignore. With a huff and a few more strong thrusts, he happily spilled his seed deep inside his wife's cunny. For a good ten seconds he came, filling Annabelle up to the brim with the burning liquid. She moaned happily and pushed her hips back to take every last drop.

Then the doorbell rang.

Annabelle nearly fell off the couch and sufficed with an indignant slide, cum leaking out of her clenching pussy. Lance meanwhile had slid his cock out of its fleshy vice with great disappointment. As he pulled up his pants and watched his wife's ass disappear back into the kitchen he promised if it was the mailman, Lance would punch his lights out.

Lance turned the doorknob.

****/n-line****

When he opened the door however, there was no one there. Frowning for a moment, he thought it strange, especially with the echoes of the ringing bell still in his thoughts. Closing the door he figured... Why then would the bell ring? Something else caught his attention. The inside of his house was quiet. Not just quiet.

Dead silent.

Lance turned and felt a strange vertigo as it seemed like he was looking at the house of a stranger. Old takeout boxes littered the floor. The normally immaculate house was just about a complete disaster. He took a step and kicked an empty bottle of whiskey that clinked hollowly into the kitchen. In the sink was a stack of unwashed dishes ready to overflow that looked to be growing mold.

A sudden spike of pain shot through Lance Greenfield's skull with enough abruptness to make the tiger flinch. For a terrifying moment he felt something slipping away, something he needed to hold onto. It felt like a great pressure, as though he was suddenly at the bottom of the ocean with all the crushing weight of the water above concentrated right on top of him.

Lance pushed back, trying valiantly to hold back the tide.

He pulled out his wallet and dug for his family portrait. It was still intact, either from proximity or as another symptom of the world. Corners and edges worn smooth by countless touches, the tiny picture showed him, his son, his daughter, and his pregnant wife. Having been taken three months prior, Anna's belly was not as pronounced. Looking back again, he spied a manilla folder still sitting on his kitchen table.

Down to the very marrow of his bones Lance's being seemed to quake as he began to understand.

End chapter 3

Author notes: Here it is ladies and gentle furs! Second to last chapter of Shifted! This chapter contains the scene that spawned the rest of the story in my head and I'm more glad than you know to have finally written it. It's just one of those things, ya know? Hope you enjoyed! As always, leave a comment and tell me what you think, good or bad.