Come With Us To Gomorrah, The Flesh Is Weak

Story by Werefox Inari Sachi on SoFurry

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I figured I'd get a little bit more carnal for a second going.


Once you've become a Gomorran; accepted their blood's course in your veins--the changes don't stop. It's like taking a crap--something you can't reverse once it's begun, without hurting yourself.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back, at this point. Every change of texture and tone, shape and function was exhilarating. I became doglike, drooling, flicking my outgrown tongue about; a foot in front of my face--entranced with god-knows-what; maybe just waving it to the sound of my heartbeat, delivering each dosage of mutagen to my straining cells.

I'd done away with my clothes, my uniform. They were still as shredded as I had been, in my last bids for life as a human. Now I could leave them behind, like a snake shedding its skin. I felt my muscles tense, building across my flank, as sweat drenched pores began to metamorphose, coating me in foul-smelling oil, amidst a hide of prickling blue hairs. It was repellant, at first, like an out-of-tune guitar hits your ears... and then my face started stretching longer, to give me the visage of a scavenger hound. What had been a nub of black and a fused front lip bloated and distended into a fantastic snout, with nostrils that perked outward to tell me how lovely I smelled, how strong I was really becoming--shedding the odor of wounds and death, for an identity--for my own dog smell.

Compare your nose to the most numbed sensory experience you have felt while under anesthetics. By contrast, each scent was reaching my own new prosthesis like pins and needles of enticement, triggering a new thought, or understanding of a substance. I could still tell you how much 'sick' I smelt from dead or dying humans, certainly--but I could also scent food they'd ate, fear they'd expressed, weapons discharge--and distantly--sex of their kind and mine alike. Moreover, I could describe chemical compounds in the air to the satisfaction that I knew I would be keeping this organ regardless of how foul each individual scent was or was not. I didn't want my old nose back. I didn't want an eye gouged to fit in with the rest of the one-eyed crowd, just because of how bright things really were.

I transposed. I was at first, a dying, wounded soldier like the rest... and then a larvae, a pupae, an adult of another species altogether. I can't explain how, but the seed... it was more than just dog sperm, or a blood transfusion from an animal, or the inoculation of a gene to alter my chromosomes. What substance had been plunged into my anus from the Gomorran's tongue... had developed into a zoological tumor, mitigating my old body's functions with those of a new one... 'digesting' the old me, with the help of the offspring gestating within my new-found channel. The more I birthed, the more I could feel this 'organ' stimulated by the contractions. Soon, it would be everything--a part of me, the whole of me, pushing and eating aside my old life, not leaving a trace of my pink-skinned hide and biped frame behind.

I had been a male, and already missed the solidity, the turgid extremities of my testes and penis--on that I won't lie. Gomorrans reproduce with their tongue, it seems; secreting sperm along its length from inside their own nether duct, and impregnating each other, and us, with a kiss. Satanic in a sense, and I suppose in part why we've been given our name.

It's alright. I adopt this way now. I choose this to be my new up. All that's left is to deliver, and soon, I do it with aplomb. My opening spreads wide beneath a rump of fluffy tails that have begun pulling on my spine. I'm reminded of a can-can dancer's dress, my rear-end covered in boas of sleek red fur, over-coating dog skin, tense muscle, and supple, living vertebrae. I sweep each tail in a semicircle, eager for the blood flow and stimulation of new limbs that have grown, brushing them through the sand in a crescent swath. Soon, I begin my deposit, and it's as simple as taking a dump would have been--cleaner, easier. Over the next minute or two of fur growth, stretching tissue, and muscular contractions from an ever-growing reproductive canal, the head of a massive unhatched shell splits my netherlips, and I can see its blackness between my bending hips, even over my distended, teat-less belly. I am at once resembling canine, reptilian, avian, and even distinctively human characteristics, and a host to mindless joy.

The next generation is quickly on its way, and I bury it in the sand to hide and gestate in warmth. A single ovular mass, a bit bigger than a football, has found its way out of my bestial vent. I minister to my tender and well-worked opening, licking my ass with prehensile dexterity, and I savor the stimulation of each turned taste-bud, on what could now well be an anteater's proboscis--a sleek, long, black whip of muscle, slipping out between my carnivorous jaws.

The various shapes of my head have triangulated starkly. My brain must be more compressed in my vulpine skull, giving less way to higher-brain functions, even as my fore-brain bulges outward to give me new faculties of reflex and perception. The lobes of my ears have tripled in size, venting stacks of steam in the cooling desert air, and I feel pointed, angled toward my next target, toward whatever pleasure or purpose awaits, as thoughts of doubt fade away. I feel an urge to inseminate humans; kiss them, give them a chance to invite the gestation of one of my own kind, that will in turn change them, as I have changed. Perhaps I will stay, will run with them for awhile, share a meal and lay together when my time to ovulate has come again. I do not entirely understand my new body, but I now give into it fully!

...Soon, my tongue is snaking up the pants of another soldier, who has come just short of death. Will he lay next, or will I make his body a meal, when he lays down and dies? When he draws his rifle... when he sees me, my body... Does he shoot this time? But I never know until the very moment of my approach--and each time it is different. My mind is at peace no matter the result, I have chosen my ultimate destiny.

My Heaven.