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White Sweety Milk
4ef090
TIGGER WARNING BODY HORROR AND VISCERA DEPICITED
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I stood on the side of the road, a small gravel embankment to my right. I was maybe still a half an hour from home. Out towards an abandoned field, in the distance I could see the tall smoke stacks of some abandoned factory along the river front. I'd never walked this far from home before, usually had a ride or took a bus.
I stopped walking and looked down at the ground. The scrap of fur in my new jacket's pocket was only about two square inches of material. I had to pinch it between two fingers to pull it out of the jaws of the zipper. As I pulled it out, it felt like it became taut, like a piano wire twanging. It struck deep into me, like I was pulling a thread out of my chest. A hot steel wire tearing apart my soft flesh. As I held the scrap of fur in the moonlight my eyes began to water. It's just, it's just fur? I thought. Gray fur, like an overcast sky. My head vibrated with fear, like a oppressive force was hanging over me. The moon's stare, like a giant silvery guillotine, threatened to come down over me and take everything in a single smooth lick.
I flipped it over in my hand examining both sides. The back of patch of fur was wet, wet. Why was it wet. In the dark I couldn't see it fully, but I could smell it. Fresh blood. Crimson oil in the low light, smelling of sweet, salty pennies. It dripped down my finger. The scrap of pelt felt heavy, like a corpulent sponge begging to be squeezed dry. I couldn't help myself. I squished it in my hand, yearning for the release of it.
It felt like chewing cactus.
My hand stung as more blood dripped down my arm, dripping down, down into the arm of my jacket. Down the plaid and tiger print. Why did it hurt, how could it hurt. How could it be full of blood. Why. Why. WHY. My bones creaked like an ancient tree against a street sign, wailing to the night sky. Her knotty bark pushing away the human world around it.
It hurt, my whole body ached. My joints we hot and stiff like I had the flu, like my body was going to give out.
I fell to the ground, to the street I had walked along the edge of. My hand was so bloody. The fur where is it? I groaned, straining to look around me. I hadn't let go of it, nor did I drop it. But it wasn't in my hand anymore. My fingers, my forearms. I felt sweat began to build up along the back of my neck my head thumped like I had every kind of headache at once. My stomach, it started there.
The core of a person's being, that's what it used to be known as. It clenched hard, harder than I ever experienced. I wretched in pain, but I'd already emptied what I had earlier. I clenched my fist against my gut, wadding up the sweaty fabric of my tank top. It was drenched in fresh sweat, pain and terror seeping from every pore. I pulled hard on the fabric not really thinking, not really feeling the world as I once had. My body felt like it would melt completely in the hot light of the moon. But when the cool air poured onto my bare skin I felt some kind of relief.
Not relief enough as the clenching, the vigorous involuntary clamping of my muscles spread. My legs flexed out from under me, pulling close suddenly and dumping me onto my side. Gravity wasn't the only thing against me that night, but it ripped me down the side of the gravel hill, and I rolled off the road down to dirt and mud and trash. I felt the fractures first. I'd broken a bone in my hand before, smashed my six year-old finger in the heavy door my grandma's giant sedan. It hurt so bad I passed out. I wished, no I pleaded with god, to pass out in the muddy garbage.
The pain forced screams out of me, heavy tears streaming down my face. My muscles flexed beyond their normal strength, contracting hard enough they crack bones. My body moved on its own, convulsing flopping and kicking like a dying fish begging to be returned to the cool depths of whatever world it had been reeled from. But I couldn't, my body and mind wouldn't let me return to a world before it. I was pinned by truth now, and I'd have to ride it out.
I did fade in and out, however, saved from a modicum of the pain. When one of my femurs cracked the noise nearly made me vomit alone, but the pain and the shock of feeling my leg move in ways I knew it shouldn't as I convulsed in the gravel. I woke up again at the pain of my back cracking, like ungodly popcorn, boiled in my overheating flesh.
By that time though, my flesh was already knitting back together, and my bones melded stronger than before. Longer denser. It was like a third, more aggressive puberty. In the light of the moon I could see my fingers, elongated into long claws. Fur across my denser, longer arms and legs. Dense with muscle, but stringy, like I had always been.
When had I taken off my jacket, where was it. I had ripped off my tank top, but my jacket had seemingly disappeared. My shorts shredded from the seems as my body expanded within them. Loud seem popping rips, that dreaded noise. Not as bad as the the sound of flesh tearing, rippling to new life. I pulled my shorts from my body, like a second skin that had refused to serve me.
The last thing I fully remember from that night was my voice, the sigh of relief that vibrated in my guts and chest. It exited my throat as a thunderous howl. A grateful bellow to the moon, a joyous cry that I'd found myself alive on the other side of this painful transformation. I looked over a wolf's muzzle at the moon, my face, my muzzle. I could hear the town, feel the breeze, smell gasoline, and the rotting food on the wrappers around me. My body moved into the night, mingling with darkness easily, and the rest of my time in the moonlight came to me only later in blotchy clips.
My hands moving like instinct, the ground passing under me at blinding speeds. Hunger prevailed the vision.
Id incarnate as I bounded through the closed up night as if it were built just for me. The cool air running though the fur across my body. My muscled arms pried apart a metal door, like the top of a beer can, it looked like a grocery store door. Some kind of store front. I remembered lights, beams searching the aisles of goods. The night called to me, humans, being seen, wasn't on the menu. And frigid flesh, cold ribs and rump roast wrapped in plastic and backed in styrofoam wasn't enough to sate me.
I pealed open an animal of some kind. It was hot, like water out of hose left out in the sun all day. Its blood so fresh and vibrant in the night. It smelled of piss and garbage. But I ate it hot, and it nourished me like fresh lettuce in a desert of sugar and carbs. It was like I had tasted king crab after eating only years of spam and pork rinds. It rested in me, warming my guts with its remaining body heat. Like a flesh top-up, it sated me well.
I returned to the river, washing my body in the cold rushes. The undercurrents pulled at my body. I was so tired, but something else itched at my mind. I had sampled the warmth of blood and murder, but that wasn't the only comfort flesh could offer. I lingered in the night, on baited breaths watching my house, the lights in the windows.
Sam clung to my naked form in the cool morning. I was in her bed, sudden me again. Conscious and writing memories as always. I was so sweaty, the pillow under me was drenched. My long hair felt so heavy and messy from the sweat. The morning light was so pale, five in the morning, much earlier than I'd ever vowed to see during summer.
I looked down to the floor. My jacket laid on the carpet, no other clothes of mine though.
I felt memories flood in, and became nauseous. I slid from under the soft warmth of Sam's body and rushed to the bathroom and heaved into the toilet. Viscera poured out of me into porcelain bowl, reeking of bile and rot. I was so hot, my joints still ached, but at least I was sweating.
I groaned in pain, "Fuck!"
"A-are you okay?" Sam asked, I could hear her voice growing louder as she walked towards the bathroom.
I shut the door before she could reach me. "S-sorry," I said. "Had too much to drink last night."
"Yeah, you seemed kind of out of it," Sam said. "You," She laughed. "You really blew my back out though."
"Y-yeah?" I asked, looking down into the toilet. This was more than a casual hang over. A chunk of undigested fur and flesh bobbed to the surface. A cats paw. I turn on the light to look into the bowl further. Blood, meat, red and pink styrofoam, cling wrap, meat packing labels, chunks of bones. I gaged again, but held it down, rather keep my shame inside then let it leak out and get me caught. I flicked off the light and prayed the toilet would flush. It went down after a few hard flushes.
"You're okay?" Sam asked.
I didn't respond for a moment, holding my sweaty head in my hands. What could someone really charge me with right now, killing a cat, stealing some meat, breaking and entering. I didn't kill anyone, I just... did a little bit of stray cat management. My head began to pulse with a fresh headache. I felt irritable most of all. I wanted to yell at Sam to fuck off, but I knew better. I took in a patient breath and tried to calm down.
"Yeah," I said, opening the door. I lifted my hair up, fanning my sweaty neck. "I blew you back out, huh?"
"Do you not remember?" Sam asked. "You came in all low and rumbly wearing nothing but your leather jacket. Did your date go well?"
"I-I don't know." I pulled my tooth brush out and began to brush. "I-I'm just dumb."
"Yeah?" Sam asked. "How serious is it doctor?"
"Terminal," I spit pink foam.
"Woah, are you okay?" Sam asked.
I rinsed my brush and slurped water into my mouth, swishing and spitting. "I'm fine. We had these new drinks that had like... red dye and a bunch of uhm, like cherries I think." I lied. I could feel sweat beginning to drip down my neck again.
"Okay," Sam said. "Was it good?"
"Yeah," I said, feeling my face grow warm. I wasn't great at lying, but why would I lie about something so inconsequential. Who would guess that I went on a raw meat bend across the city. My body was suddenly stricken with waves of fever. "It was good," I said, trying to calm myself. "It was very good."
"Well, hopefully the hangover will be worth it," Sam said, stepping away from the bathroom door.
"C-can I bum a smoke?" I asked, pulling out the hair trimmer from under the sink.
"You're smoking again?" Sam asked from her bedroom, the door was open and so close to the bathroom door.
"For now, maybe," I said. She returned to the bathroom finding me staring into the mirror buzzing my head.
"Woah," Sam said handing me the cigarette. "What are you doing?"
"I'm hot," I said, looking at her shocked gaze. I took the cigarette and her lighter. "It's just hair."
"Yeah, but, it's your hair," Sam said. "It was so pretty."
"Thanks," I said. "Maybe it'll still look good."
"I'm sure it will," Sam said. "Just sudden, I guess."
I looked at her taking my first drag of the cigarette, "I think, I mean, maybe." I looked in the mirror, hand over the rest of my long hair. "In all this time, I haven't really thought about what I'd do with long hair, how to wear it."
"Yeah, I styled your hair for you mostly," Sam said, looking at the bald side of my head. It was trimmed down so low it was only peach fuzz. "Well, we'll see how you like this then."
I laughed, "All I care about right now is cooling off." I swept up the hair and threw it away. It was heavy in the dust pan, over three years of growing my hair, gone. I ran my hands over it in the mirror. I looked so tired. Dog tired. My face was red, eyes blood shot. My lips were dry, cracked.
I returned to her bedroom and Sam rubbed my head, laughing. "It does look good."
"Yeah, I think so," I said, crawling back into her bed.
Sam touched my stomach, laying on her side facing me. "You been working out?" She asked. "Little abs down here." I laughed in response feeling where her hands had touched me. My body hadn't returned to me exactly as it was. Her grip was more direct, reaching down to grip at my cock, squeezing and grabbing.
"Hungry for more?" I asked with a smiled. I hadn't remembered, but my body did. "Whew, I can still feel it."
Sam laughed, "What?"
"I keep having these flashes of last night," I said, gripping her side under her and pulling her against me. "The last solid vision I have is the sounds you made under me."
Sam laughed and pressed her face into my small tits, hiding her blush. I pressed against her stomach, my dick was already getting so hard thinking about it. She kept touching me and adjusted, sliding up as I kissed her neck and chest. "What round is this?" I asked.
"Three?" Sam asked.
"Really?" I said with a soft smile. I turned away to the night stand, and pulled a condom off the shelf.
"I think so," Sam laughed. "Unless I blacked out too."
Black out, that's what it was. Was it unhealthy, would I get myself into trouble like that. I resolved to let it be my problem next time. I pealed apart the condom wrapped and pushed it down my hard cock. Sam touched me again, stroking down the latex and touching my balls. She knew just how to touch me to get me going, but there was more to it now. I grunted, deeper like a grumble growl. "Really?" Sam asked firmly.
"Fuck off," I said with a laugh, she laughed too. I shifted in the bed up to my knees and clenched her sides. She made a soft noise, a shocked gasp. A noise that made me grunt again, "Goddamn," I said, "Feels like I could go for twenty rounds." I pushed her legs up, and pinned her hard to the bed. She made another noise, a feminine whine of shocked pleasure. I huffed through gritted teeth as I rocked my hips back and forth, grinding on her folds.
"Come on, Calista," Sam said with a laugh. "Don't, don't tease me with it now."
I laughed and held my cock. I slid it down until it slipped in. "Hh, fuck," I winced. Though I'd never gone for thirds before I felt it in my balls, soreness. I didn't remember earning it, but it certainly felt earned. I watched her below me, the early morning light illuminating her dark skin. I let out a soft low huff, as I hilted. She reached up to grip my hand on her thigh.
"Feeling okay?" I asked.
"Ye-yeah," Sam huffed. "J-just fuck me, asshole."
I laughed and shifted my hips, clapping against her ass. She let out a long whine that raised with the thumps of her bed frame against the wall. I let her legs rest against me with one arm and reached around them to press circles into her clit with my other arm. I found a rhythm I didn't know I had in me, especially if this was my third round in so many hours. The feel of her body against mine with each rapid thrust was really getting to me. I could feel more memories of the night returning to me.
I gripped her so rough, so desperate. The warmth of fresh prey couldn't be compared to the warm embrace of a body. I felt myself drooling on her leg, as leaned over her. Thinking of the hot flesh, blood. Sex, sloppy puffy excited, equally desperate. I clenched my jaws hard. I couldn't hold onto it. I grunted and squeezed her legs hard against me and clapped hard against her. I could feel a jet spill into the condom, and my cock flexing hard. "Geez," I groaned. "H-how are you?"
Sam looked up at me, eyebrows raised. She pushed her curly dyed hair out of he face and looked at me as if lost. "W-what?"
"H-are you good?" I asked again, speaking louder. I hadn't realized I was grumbling more than actually speaking "I wasn't too rough there?"
"Yyeah," she said. "No, no," She corrected herself firmly.
"Okay," I grumbled, looking down. I pulled out looking at her folds wrapped around my cock. Then took the condom off. Then stepped off the bed, dropping the condom into her bedroom trash bin. It was heavier than I'd have expected from a round three. The bin had two tied off condoms in it already. I smiled in satisfaction, crawling back into bed.
Sam was laying comfortably, trying to catch her breath. I ran my hands over her again, down her belly to touch her clit. She let out another one of those soft whines and pressed her face against me, and I held her close, rubbing in tight circles again. She knew my body, and I knew hers. She gripped my arm, clenching me with such a firm grip I knew she'd gotten close when I fucked, practically edged her. I watched her face closely. Her eyelids flickered, and she licked her lips. She pressed herself against my hand, and let out a sharp little whine. Her eyebrows were raised high, mouth hung open, before groaning and relaxing her body. "Wow," I mumbled.
"Wh-what?" Sam asked.
"Wow," I said. "I always forget how fun it is to make you cum."
"Whatever," Sam said pushing my face away.
She laid on me and I laid back into the bed, trying to nap before the day came. I didn't have much luck, thinking about my night on the town after I left Raquel.
[b]____________________
How do you feel?
I loved the power I experienced.
I'm a freak now, even more so than before.
They'll try to steal this power from me.
I can enjoy this and maintain control.
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