A Huntress Born

Story by Skabaard on SoFurry

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A little bit of a running-triggered transformation for this one. It was fun to write, and the lack of a name for the character, along with the lack of any other characters presented an interesting challenge: How to avoid monotonously using "She" to begin every sentence. (Hint: I failed miserably)

How? Why? Is her "guide" a symptom of Salaxa's hold on the world? Or did it come from some place more deep rooted? Beats the hell out of me. I haven't even decided if this story even took place in the same canon as Valorie and friends. But I digress. Enjoy.


A Huntress Born

Written By: Skabaard

She ran.

She liked to run. It was liberating. The wind flowing through her waist-length hair made her feel free from the monotony of life around her family's farm. The burning of her muscles made her forget everything but the air heaving in and out of her chest. She would rather run than sit. She would rather run than do nearly anything else, and her body showed it.

She was lean and wiry, with a short, compact frame that had no room for the useless curves of her sisters. They could only slow her down. She reveled instead in the density of her thighs, the way her compact calves bunched as her feet hit the soft earth beneath her. Her arms pumped at her side as she practically flew across the ground. Sweat slicked her nude body; she hadn't had time to put anything on. She couldn't bring herself to care. She was too excited.

She laughed as she heard the braying of her father's dogs far behind her. They would never catch her, she knew. The dogs were fat and slow, used to scratches behind the ear and table scraps. No one could catch her anymore, as if they had had a chance before. She could feel it, though. She would never be caught again, ever. She had known it when she had woken up that morning.

Her family had reacted the way she had known they would. The stupid, fat slobs were predictable, but that hadn't stopped her. He had practically begged for it, and she had harbored high hopes. She should have known, though. He was tiny, and weak. She had never done it before, but what she had woken up with guided her. New instinct had told her what she needed to do. His insides had been small and tight, and it hadn't taken long for her to claim him. He had squealed like the animal he was. They were all just meat to her now, and she had never felt more alive.

Her guide slapped against her thigh as she ran. It was heavy, and had gotten so big for her earlier, but it didn't slow her down. It only made her run harder, and her bare feet pounded on the ground as she leapt over the sturdy fence that bordered her family's farm. She took off into the hills; the tall grasses would help her hunt. She was a predator now, strong and fast. She knew it; she could feel it between her legs, the need to hunt, to hold down some lazy beast and tear it apart.

She could feel it, the dull, throbbing burn that built in her legs and core. She luxuriated in it, and as the sensation swelled, she felt something rising within her with it. She needed more. She was fast, and properly equipped, but she needed more. As much as could be done with her body had been done, she could get no faster, no stronger, but that wouldn't long be a problem.

She could feel it building in her. The tension built in her legs, and with each pounding footfall, she felt it grow. Tighter and tighter, it felt like she could burst. Her muscles burned, aflame with need. No fatigue slowed her steps, and she knew she would never tire again. Speed, she needed more speed; she needed to be faster. She stretched her legs out as far as they would go, sparing a glance down to watch her thighs bulge under her skin as they hurled her off of the ground again and again. She let out an exhilarated laugh. She was beautiful, a runner, but she still had so far to go, and she urged it on with pumping arms and bounding leaps.

It started to happen quickly, because she could never be called slow again. One foot hit the ground, and she felt the impact ripple up her leg, releasing all the built-up tension with a loud crack. She could feel her ankle snap, but she felt no pain. The muscle beneath her skin writhed, building and reshaping, growing bigger, stronger, and she launched off the ground. She felt the joy of flight as she floated over a low, scrubby tree. She hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, and she watched her leg morph to something she could be proud of, knowing that she could catch herself when she needed to.

Her leg inched longer, soft, meaty popping signaling the growth of new, tough tendons that gave thick, dense muscle purchase on sturdy bone. Her ankle moved up, giving the appearance of a new joint in her leg as her toes lengthened, their nails growing long and sharp, claws to give traction on the ground. The balls of her feet bulged, and thick calluses from running became a tough, leathery pad to catch her as her leg reshaped, becoming powerful and digitigrade. She landed on her other leg, using it to throw herself into the air once more, and she watched with wanton glee as her other leg changed, becoming long and beautiful, thick with taut muscle that continued to swell and ripple with constant growth.

With each light footfall, her legs grew incrementally longer, letting her move faster and faster, and making her look more and more disproportioned. She didn't care; the wind on her skin was all that mattered, and she begged for more, moaning wordlessly with need. She would soon be perfect. Her legs were tree trunks that moved with impossible grace, carrying her with terrific speed further and further from the place she had once called home. The changes continued when her narrow hips would allow her legs to grow no more. She could feel her pelvis shift, stretching wider painlessly as her thighs moved apart, giving herself more room to grow.

The thing between her legs took advantage of the extra space, and began to balloon larger. She hesitated to call it what it was, not out of shame, but because it was so much more. He had had one, but it was puny, like him. Hers was enormous, long and thick, proud and unwilling to be contained. It had made him scream when she had stuffed it, still soft, into him. It wasn't soft any more, and it kept getting bigger and bigger, harder and harder. She swung her widening hips, slapping it against her thighs. It felt so good, and promised more if she could only go faster.

She demanded more from her new legs, and they responded, stretching longer between steps, her thighs getting thicker, stronger, her calves bulging restlessly as she moved. She wished she could run beside herself so she could watch. She felt her insides twist, and her waist thickened, abs rippling as they surged beneath the skin of her belly. They stayed tight and compact, but they grew to match her new frame. Her spine bowed, and she almost stumbled as it cracked, her vertebrae reshaping, stretching her taller and taller. Her ribcage barreled outward, making room for huge, spacious lungs, and a mighty heart that pushed blood through thick veins that fed her strong, new muscles.

Her meager breasts swelled, but not much. She couldn't allow herself to be slowed down, but her puffy pink nipples throbbed, promising great pleasure whenever she stopped to massage the now perky, hand-filling orbs that bounced gently as she ran on. Her shoulders pulsed wider each time her feet met the earth, growing to support the corded muscle that crawled under her skin, swelling as she moved. She pivoted her arms as they grew. The lean muscle enlarged, stretching her sweat-drenched skin over arms that looked fit on a predator, enough to trap prey, snap bone, and tear flesh. Her fingers balled into fists as her nails grew hard and thick, sharpening into threatening claws.

She laughed again as her neck thickened, and she listened to her voice grow deep and primal. She sounded like a predator. The changes moved up to her head and she saw, smelled, and heard her new body being born, as much as she felt it. Her vision sharpened, colors standing out more clearly with a clarity she had only ever dreamed. Smells assaulted her nose, the scents of soil and the tall grass. She gasped them down. It would rain soon, she knew, she could smell it on the wind. Her ears tickled as they moved up, reshaping, growing tapered and feline. There was a horrible grinding sound as her jaw pushed out from her face, carrying her lips and nose with it. Her nostrils grew large and broad, and she easily pulled air into her deep lungs as her nose became dark and wet, flowing into her lips that likewise thinned and darkened. She felt with the roughness of a new tongue her teeth morphing, growing long and sharp, and the muscles lining her jaw strengthened. She knew she could crush bone and tear sinew if she could get her mouth around something.

She felt her spine push out several inches of new growth. It slid between the big, muscular cheeks of her rear as it lengthened out behind her. She swung it on instinct, using it as a rudder, letting her steer herself even easier as she pushed herself to go faster and faster. She was so hard, and strong, and she throbbed between her legs, oozing from her tip. She still wasn't done, but she was close. Her entire body ached, she wanted to touch herself. Panting lightly from exertion, but not fatigue, she slowed gently, stopping atop the crest of a sloping hill.

She looked down at her body with new, sharp eyes. She could see her heartbeat in the stunning hardness jutting from her thighs. She had made herself so hard just running. It felt so good. Careful for her claws, she wrapped her fingers around it. They wouldn't go all the way, but it was good enough for now. She stroked herself tenderly, lifting a hand to her chest and cupping a pert breast, pinching her aching nipple between her fingers. She moaned, and then moaned again. She sounded so powerful, deep and commanding. She was so close to perfection, and she demanded that she finish her transformation.

The hunt wasn't on yet; she had no need for silence. She snarled, baring her fangs as she ravaged her supple breasts with long, agile fingers. Lust quickened her breaths, and she mewled needy moans into the steady breeze that swept through the grass around her. She didn't dare quiet herself; her voice, strong and unyielding would be held for nothing. Gleeful, giddy energy filled her body. Her heart pounded frantically against her ribs, feeding her body what it needed. Still she grew. She could see it in the greedy pulsing of her body, in the way the grass fell away from her expanding form. She cried out for more, wailing into the wind for more. More. More!

Her old body had been pathetic. She couldn't imagine how she dared think she used to be fast, strong. Ignorance had held her captive, but she would be free now, free from her old life, free to hunt as a predator should. She bent down, growling softly as her back popped, still lengthening. Her tail flicked playfully through the grass behind her as she ran the roughness of her tongue over her tool, throbbing ever larger in her fingers. She urged it on, her saliva slicking herself, adding delightful coolness to the heat of the flesh that twitched in her overfilled hand. She growled defiantly. One hand wasn't enough, but she was loathe to leave her chest unattended. She let her tongue and hand switch places, and she lapped at the stiffness of her nipple while both of her hands pumped furiously up and down her length. She was hot and tight, and so, so close.

She fell to her knees, unable to stay crouched with the way her arms were pistoning. She was almost ready, and she prepared to finally shed her old, feeble body. The tight, defined muscle of her long, slender arms bunched as she gave herself one last, violent stroke, bringing herself to the very edge. She removed her hands, placing them gently on the ground in front of her, sinking her claws into the soft, fertile soil. She bent down, bending her spine as she threw her shoulders back and pushed her chest out. She closed her eyes, exulting in the feeling of her fitfully throbbing flesh slipping down as she bent at the waist. The sweat-drenched skin of her thighs allowed its passage, and she gritted her teeth. Not yet. She slipped it down between her legs, trapping herself between her thick, meaty legs. She ran their full length, from crotch to knee, and she held back long enough to memorize what it felt like, this moment.

She could feel herself throbbing along her entire length, the need in her loins fighting against the hard muscle of her legs. She wanted to buck her new, wide hips, to rub, stroke, and caress. She wanted to pound herself with brutal violence into something weak and slow. She shuddered, nearly losing it. No, she had waited her whole life for this; she could wait a few more seconds. She could feel herself stretching larger, even now. She knew that if she could hold herself back, she would eventually be enormous, but size would rob her of her speed, and she wouldn't allow that. Just a bit more, another inch, two, three, five. She wanted to be as strong as she could manage, the perfect mix of feral strength and lightning speed. Her footpads dug furrows in the dirt as her legs continued to elongate. The feeling of her thighs getting bigger, more muscular against her steel-hard length was euphoric. She felt beautiful, and she needed no one to tell her how erotic her strength was.

There. Perfection. She could feel the rightness of it in her skin. With a guttural cry, she tensed her body, her lean musculature standing out in stark contrast against her sweat-slicked skin, and dug her fingers deep into the earth beneath her. As her tremendous length exploded beneath her, one last wave of change washed over her body. With a tingling in her skin, a thick coat of short, silky fur sprouted from her body. The trembling of her thighs against her spasming flesh was orgasmic and she threw her head back and screamed into the gathering clouds as the light tan of her fur was mottled by countless black spots to break up her outline. As her tail grew furry, the spots blended into rings, and the hairs at the very end of its length puffed out, making bushy, to better catch the air.

She spurted tirelessly into the dirt, and the ground beneath her turned to strong-smelling muck with her seed. As she panted her release, a pair of dense orbs pushed themselves from her body, hanging above her spasming womanhood, each easily the size of a ripe apple, twitching as they emptied themselves into the mud. The skin at her base twisted and stretched as it too sprouted fur, forming a thick, animalistic sheath that would hold her close when she ran. She laughed as she cried out in her bliss. The strength of her smell felt right. She pulled her fingers from the earth to crush them into the flesh of her chest, egging herself on as she humped her own thighs. She tensed the muscle of her legs, using them to pleasure her endlessly pumping length. Her power turned her on, made her hot and lusty. No other creature could give her what she could give herself, short of meat for her belly and a hole to claim. Her hands left her breasts as her tongue lolled between her fangs, pink and wet. She stroked her legs, and it felt as orgasmic as if she had touched her tool. She traced the line of her muscle and she bucked her hips, adding to the growing puddle in front of her with a still increasing volume of glistening white. She wasn't slowing down; she would never be slow again!

She moaned deliriously as she fondled herself, kneading the fuzzy skin of her new scrotum with dexterous fingers, feeling it pulse in her hand with each jet of pearly white jizz she shot from her loins. Eventually, she felt the flow begin to slacken, and she sat up, rising gracefully to her footpads, her claws easily finding grip in the muck of her own creation. She panted as she idly squeezed the last few spurts of ejaculate from her tool. She watched it recede hesitantly into its sheathe, and she purred encouragingly to it. It would be fed soon. In the meantime, she explored her new body, her fingers roving over her once scrawny frame with excited energy.

She could feel each ridge of each dense muscle through the light tan fur that covered her body. Black spots dotted her with no pattern, and she glanced down at the ringed, fluffy tip of her tail, watching it dance through the air almost of its own accord. She rubbed her legs. They felt tight, eager to run, to carry her to her prey. Tendons popped as she rolled her shoulders, swinging her arms through the air experimentally. Her ears twitched through her shortened hair when she picked up the sound of the dogs that were chasing her over the wind. It was short and straight, hanging down just above her eyes, windblown and out of the way. The clouds were gathering; it would be raining before sundown. Her followers would be trapped far from home, in the dark and pouring rain.

She grinned as she stepped down from the crest of the hill. She could feel her testes throbbing excitedly, preparing themselves for the results of her hunt. She moved with the wind, slipping silently between long blades of prairie grass as she jogged lightly back the way she had come. She would run them, frightened, in circles until they could no longer heave their useless bodies across the ground. Then she would be there to pounce.

An excited chuckle rumbled in her chest as the first drops of the evening rain began to fall around her, slicking her sleek fur down to her skin. She laughed. The water in the air would make it hard to smell her quarry, but that worked in her advantage. She could see perfectly in the shadows that cloaked her; they could not. She silenced herself as she faded into the grass, bending low to hide her entire body below the tips of the rain-glossed leaves. She hoped he would be with them. She would like to taste him again. Either way, there would be a feast tonight, and she was very, very hungry.