Turning a Skank Into a Stink-Beast
Foxy fun time again; I'm restless and looking at my mask from one of my previous journal entries, and thinking 'what would it be like to fit into this thing--permanently'?
Honestly, between making weak attempts at friendships, and weak attempts at making money and earning a living--I'm tired of trying to be modest. Have fun with this one.
She donned the mask. Like Velcro, it snared her face, latching in its hooks; becoming immovably bonded.
And then it began: like a drinking beast, to take from her. Shifting, acquiring her essence, it became alive itself, leather grew supple and smooth, regained the energy of flesh, and grew tufts of fur to espouse an odor of musk rather than paint and lacquer. Warmth lapped her lips as a black, vascular material netted and webbed beneath her skin, turning it pliable and moist. With a sudden squeezing pressure, her face bulged and rolled; the material infiltrating her nostrils, bonding the layer of skin with her nose beneath, before her lips stretched, and stretched, and her delicate prosthesis rode along, bonding to the hide and distending out into a heart-shaped, black membrane, bedecked with whiskers on both sides.
With a snort, her nostrils burst wide and prominent; big round openings in an organ of scaled snout flesh. She gagged at the scent swirling about her in a shroud, and stared down between her thighs, pulling and tearing at her hoes and short-short jeans as something grew and pushed against them relentlessly, until the fabric gave under bloody nails, grown dark and curved: strangely satisfying, firm and formidable things, with which she disrobed her tattered trash attire.
She moaned, and felt with her hand as the warm nub grew and swole, stroking it--reminding her of an erection she could be riding; enjoying with each ebb and flow of her breath as it further mutated. Warmth radiated as the blood vessels spread and grew, faster, out of control; her pelvis burning, aching as the vertebrae thickened and ossified, cracking and stretching with solidity as a new limb draped down her leg--a hot, naked serpent that she flicked against herself.
She could feel the tension, the muscle of her tail; and scented the development of malodorous glands, crying like a whore at the pleasure of this genesis of sensation; even as something slick and long dropped out of her confused and aroused mouth.
The muscle hung there, against her chin--which remained still, a gentle and delicate thing, utterly mismatched with her massive animal nose. But even this was temporary, as the dog-like flesh thickened and moistened beneath her tongue; spreading red and black, thickening, as with a cartilaginous snap, her face distorted and furred, reaching the pinnacle of its metamorphosis into an angular maw. She hung it wide, panted horrendously under the pressure of transformation, as her hair fell out of her head, revealing patches of rusty fur, and broadening, pointed ears; naked, but quickly succumbing to black tips and white bell tufts, as they grew.
She couldn't... she mustn't-- but at last, that resistance futilely collapsed, beneath a wave of endorphins, and irrepressible horniness. Quickly she scrambled for a breast, caressing it under her shirt as the afflicted flesh passed from her broadening neck, down through her back--pink and thoroughly canine; altering her body temperature, altering her smell and shape and hair color. Feeling alien instincts propelling her forward, her irises yellowed, and her eyes developed moist pink under-eyelids, as they reopened, completely bestial, shining orbs in the dark.
Looking down at her one hand, and then the other, she watched disdainfully as this alien development continued; the digits doubling in length, becoming hooked, spindly, ungainly large, as rust red fur spread across their backs. A thick mat of coarse black fur prickled slowly out of her right palm, coalescing into a familiar paw-pad shape, and exuded a horrific skunk smell, which made her drunkenly hungry for sex. Each of her digits in turn swole, claws stretching sharply, robbing her hands of elegance, as they too grew musky and thick undersides. Squinting, trembling, and reaching for the buttons of her top, she undid her blouse suddenly, allowing the process to consume her--unveiling numerous nipples, that hung and swayed, thickening with a soft white fuzz, tipped in pink. Breeding instincts devoured her mind, as the push of fur across her back and buttocks reached her tail, before bursting into a blanket of red and white. Each hair erect, she screeched an inhuman bark.
Slipping out of her shoes, her feet cracked and toes spread, blackened and bulging, webbing over. Her big toes grew high and small on her legs, nail-beds shedding effortlessly, before ejecting their own sharp claws. With a grunt, and a ruffling of the fur on the back of her neck and rump, she emitted some foul, canine substance from her tight, blackened anus, expressing the sheer, indescribable clusterfuck of her terror for posterity, as her brain grew almost entirely predatory, and the last bit of human faded into the background. With a swish of her blanket tail, tufted in white, and a quick look at her whiskered face and eyebrows in a puddle, she licked her lips, and then was off, bounding on strange haunchlike back legs and all too human arms, pawed as they were--to hunt for a suitable mate.
Just a bite, just a lick, and she would gently coax the next generation into being--then present her swollen, massive muff, and engorge the new beast's monstrous member. The mask's work was done, and its plague unleashed upon an unwary and needing world. Soon there would be so many more--like her--a perched vixen-beast, stroking its nipples, ready to be pregnant, or a hungry dog-fox with a moist pink dong in a furry sheathe, ready to breed--her and her kin.
She moved out in search of her very first, lucky prey. She'd never felt more hungry--more alive.