Topic: Chemical Aftermath Series - by palindrome256

I will only be posting the parts of the series that are relevant to this forum.

Here's the link to the entire series for those inclined: https://www.furaffinity.net/gallery/pal … Aftermath/


Re: Chemical Aftermath Series - by palindrome256


Well, isn't this awkward
By Palindrome256

“Aw, Fuck.” Christine lifted her foot out of the sludge. “Damn it, these were new work shoes too!”

Taking a paper towel off her cart she tried to clean the greenish-gray goop off but only managed to get it smeared around more. Her foot was soaked, the shoe all but oozed with the slimy mess.  She sighed; this job was not worth the twelve bucks an hour.

She finally just gave up and hoped the shoe would dry on its own. The squishy feel was unsettling, and around here, who knows what she just stepped in. Not that they’d ever make those precious scientists report what they spilled. She got out a shovel and scooped most of the mess into a bucket before mopping the hall clear of the remainder. Sure, there was a big divot in the floor, but that was nothing new with this place. The floors were filled with stains, burns, holes, and pools of brackish much on a regular basis. She’d have called OSHA had it still existed. As it was, she was glad to get anything she could.

Finally, the muck cleared off the floor she went for the main Janitor’s closet. Really more of a room, but it had a nice little floor sink for rinsing stuff off. She pulled off the shoe, it was definitely ruined. The stuff had actually eaten holes into the sole. Oddly it hadn’t touched the cloth top except to make it a nasty sticky mess. Sighing, Christine turned on the tap, thankful it came in both hot and cold.  She took a few minutes to adjust the temperature and stuck her slime covered foot and sock under the running water. She finally gave up on the sock and dumped it on the floor next to the shoe. It took a while for the goo to let go of her foot though, and even when she was done her foot remained a discolored greenish gray. She hoped it wasn’t permanent.

She took her other shoe off and pulled off her cleaner sock. Sliding this on her bare foot, she ended up with one shoe, no sock, and one sock, no shoe. Grumbling she went back to work.

***   ***  ***

The light flickered. “Crap.” She muttered. A flickering light meant there were rolling brownouts going on again. She closed the door to her tiny apartment, wondering if she’d have enough power for the television. A quick flip of the old set and she got nothing but a black screen. Nope. At least she had a little light. Not that it would do much good.

Christine yawned. It had been a long shift, twelve hours and she had to get new shoes in the morning. She tossed the other shoe off in the corner. Maybe she could get at least get a nice soak in the tub, a good end of the work week luxury. It was the one redeeming thing about this old converted house apartment; the tub was a giant clawfoot and she could luxuriate in it when the pipes were working. In a world gone to shit, a hot bath made a huge difference.

She popped into the bathroom, its light flickered a bit too, and found an old candle under the sink. It was gigantic, three wicks, and well used, but still had a lot of life left. With the power iffy, she wasn’t going to get caught in the tub without light. She rooted around for her lighter, finally finding it in a drawer, and lit the heavy candle, which she set on the back of the toilet. Seating herself on the edge of the tub she turned on the water. The pipes knocked and banged a moment before the pipe belched out a splatter of brownish red water. She waited for the water to run clear, or at least clear-ish, before she bothered putting in the stopper. Thankfully the old water heater was working and the temperature was nice and hot, but not scalding as she let it run over her hands.

Satisfied that the tub was filling she slowly stripped out of her work clothes. She dumped the non- descript blue pants and shirt in the hamper. She fiddled with her bra clasp, finally letting her large, flopping breasts out of their wire prison. She rubbed up under them, letting them just hang free and enjoying it. She gave a look in the mirror and frowned slightly. Her short hair was getting a bit unkempt, time to trim it again as she checked a couple blemishes. She absently played with one of the bars that ran through her nipples, gift to herself when she turned eighteen. She still liked them, but missed the perkiness of her tits from back then. How she’d ended up with these back-breaking tits on her little frame was probably her mother’s fault. She’d had big tits too. They drooped a bit now days, even though she wasn’t even thirty, hanging over that slight paunch on her belly that she could never seem to quite get rid of. Sighing slightly, genetics sucked.  She looked a lot like her mother did.  Those thick thighs and ample hips wouldn’t disappear no matter how many hours she spent in the gym. Not that it stopped her from getting dates, plenty of guys liked her T&A body.

Christine tried to stop nit picking at her flaws. She was bad about that. Turning away from the mirror she noticed the tub was almost full, so she turned off the water. She swirled her hand in the water, wishing she had the money for a luxury like a bath bomb or even a bottle of bubble bath. It’d been too long. Sadly, such items had become expensive in recent years. She frowned. She barely had anything as it was. A bedroom and a bathroom. Her cooking done on a hotplate and in an old microwave with nothing but one of those little cheap college style refrigerators. It wasn’t much at all to show for her life.

She wiggled out of her panties, letting them drop on the floor. She debated if she wanted to shave, but she decided it wasn’t worth it. She’d broken up with her last boyfriend a few months ago and she wasn’t in the mood for one now. She figured wild and free for a while was a-okay with her as she scratched the re-growing pubic hairs.

She looked down, realizing she’d not checked her foot since she stepped in the goop. It was still stained that weird color, but it didn’t seem to be bothering her. She slipped the food into the tub with a satisfied sigh, carefully holding the old tub’s sides to make sure she didn’t slip and fall into the cloudy water.

Getting her posterior into the water always proved more daunting as the water was hot enough that her ass and cunt definitely needed to adjust. She bounced off the water at the initial touch before letting herself sink down into.

She lay there, enjoying the ability to stretch out into the full length of the tub, another perk of her tiny size. She giggled as she batted down her tits which bobbed and floated to the surface. Finally, just placing one arm over them and holding them under to soak her achy nipples. She must be getting close to her period. This just elicited another frown.

After a few minutes of letting herself soak and relax in the warmth she let her fingers slide down to her crotch. Just because she didn’t have a man to fuck doesn’t mean she didn’t have needs. She let her fingers twirl around her clit which twitched happily under her ministrations. She turned her head and let herself wander off into a nice pleasant fantasy and a few mild orgasms.

***   ***  ***

She awoke with a start, still in the bath. The light was out, damned brownouts! Still she had the flicker of the candle. The water around her had grown cool. She started to lift her hand, but as she did the top of the water rose with her. The surface was now coated in a thick gelatinous goo. It coated her fingers. For a moment she just looked at her hand, the slimy muck just seeping off her fingertips back into the tub. “What the fuck?” She tried to get her feet under her, but the slick muck seemed to have replaced most of the water and the bottom of the tub. Her feet slid wildly as she tried to lift herself out.

She landed hard back on her butt in the tub. “Ouch!” How was she going to get out? She finally grabbed the side of the tub and levered herself over the edge, pulling her self out and over into a sprawling sticky mess on the floor. “Fuck!” She said with a mouth full of floor mat.

Righting herself she looked down at her body. The sticky sheen ran across her body, from the nape of her neck downward, with small drips pooling on the floor beneath her. In the wan lighting it was hard to tell much, but she could swear her legs were now that same sickly gray-green as her foot had been this morning.

Slowly she reached up and grabbed one of her towels. This was going to ruin it. She started pushing the slime down and off her body.  It didn’t completely come off after the initial wipe, but the towel was soon left coated in a thick layer, while she largely wasn’t.

She poked her legs, they felt like her legs, but the skin was now kind of soft and rubbery feeling. Rubbing her hand down them she realized the week of stubble was missing from them. Well, she though, at least I got a free wax. She finally managed to stand up though, her limbs shaking. She gripped the sink for safety as she was afraid, she’d lose her footing again.

“Shit, now what?” Mutations at work weren’t unheard of, in fact with the few safety measures they had it was getting kind of common to see people who aren’t quite right anymore. Hell, after three years there she was kind of surprised she hadn’t had anything happen before. Damn it, why now?

Her legs felt strong enough to support her still, despite the occasional wobble on the floor and she carefully made her way out to her bedroom. The pale light of morning was just seeping through the curtains. She needed more light to see by though. Walking towards her bed she grabbed another towel

off the floor. She didn’t want to get this stickiness into her bedding. Then having set the towel on the end of the bed, she peeked out the window to make sure no one was visible. Thankfully her upper floor room faced away from other houses, instead being up against a grove of trees. Pulling the curtains open, she propped a leg up on the windowsill and her butt on her bed. God, if someone was watching they were getting a good show of her.

Her leg seemed mostly normal, except for the sickly hue, lack of hair, and a texture that she couldn’t quite explain. Rubbery and slick, with that little sliminess. It felt nice to her to run her finger down, but at the same time the sensation on her finger was definitely not one she enjoyed.

She started to check the rest of herself. Her breasts, still vaguely coated in the slime, seemed normal, as did her arms. She pushed her breasts aside and took a look at her stomach, but it was her crotch that got her attention. She grabbed a mirror out of her bedside drawer and inspected herself in a way she’d not done in a long time. Her lips had swollen, both inner and outer. She poked lightly at them; they had that same weird texture as her legs. “Fuck me.”  She cursed.  She prodded again, this time feeling herself respond a bit as her lips seemed to contract just a bit at the pressure. A third prod and she was certain as the lips pulled tight to her, still swollen, but now bubbling with some of that same mucus.

What the hell was she going to do. She watched a moment as her lips seemed to unclench and open back up, her clit swelling and she swore looked like it was peeking out of her hood.

She put a finger next to her clit and she felt it move. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” She mumbled. It hadn’t moved like it was getting erect, but rather it moved side to side slightly as if it were examining her finger. Slowly she felt it stretch out a little and, for lack of a better word, nuzzle her finger tip.

“Oh, my gawd, this can’t be happening. My clit is fucking alive.” It still felt like her clit, the strong sensations still raced through her body, but she was sure she wasn’t the one moving it. Worse, she was enjoying it. So, she did what any normal person would do. She fainted.

***    ***   ***

She awoke sometime later, still splayed out in front of her window.  The lights were back on though.
She groaned. “What a horrible fucking dream.” Feeling the mattress under her back and her feet on the window, she gently reached down. A large bulb met her hand.  And rubbed her hand.  Her head snapped up. Maybe four inches across now, the tip of her clit bulged forth from her cooch. Below her lips had swollen more and were not just lying across the bed but trailing down it and off to the floor.

She stared at the bulb that now wove around next to her hand. It was almost nuzzling her now. She could feel the waves of sensation through her body. Below she could feel how slick she was. Slowly she tried to stand. It was hard to get her ass far enough off the bed to let her legs lift her up. She almost couldn’t with the mass that was her cunt now dragging more than a foot below her, and stretching out into a long trailing end behind her. The thick gray-green skin covered in a slick mucus. The mass also wiggled as she walked, both with her steps and on its own.

She wasn’t sure what to do. The mass continued to expand even as she knelt down in front of the fridge trying to find something to eat. She was starving. Even the brief shot of cold air over her huge labia was a shock though. She did not like it.

She sat there and ate, feeling the creature as she now thought of the bulb explored the carpet. She could feel it shifting and moving under her constantly, even pulling her a bit as she ate. Thinking ahead had never been her strong suit. She’d no idea what she was going to do. It was her day off, and going out was definitely off the agenda. Finally, she just opted to ignore the thing. She struggled to get up again. Her heft below the belt becoming too much for her legs. She finally pulled herself back on the bed, no longer caring about the oozing trail of mucus she left on the carpet or the bed. She tried to lean back, but the creature was having none of it and forced her to sit on her knees. She relented in her attempts to get comfortable and just flipped on the television. The creature just stuck it’s head up at the new noise. Following a weird compulsion, she patted it and it seemed to settled back down and she spent the evening watching television.

***   ***  ***

Christine yawned. The television was on still, so were the lights. She looked at her phone. It was dead. She’d forgotten the charge it again. The clock on her bedside was still flashing from the last power outage. She tried to shift but couldn’t. Looking down she saw the creature’s head pop up and look at her. The fold of her hood the giant nun that had been her clit, clearly taking a life on of its own. It was huge now. It must have been a foot across and stuck out several feet in front of her. “Well, isn’t this awkward.” The creature seemed to acknowledge that statement with a bob.

“Yes? Well, you’ve won. What now?” She put her hands on what was left of her hips, they had melded into the back of the giant mass that had been between her legs. It was still her, she knew that, but it had control. She was almost afraid to see, but she could feel the ripples of her inner lips as they started to contact and pulls, shifting the whole thing to slide slowly off her bed, her torso rising atop it.

She looked back at the crushed bed, covered in so much slime that she couldn’t fathom where it’d all come from. She crossed her arms under her breasts. “Well? I am supposed to be at work. If you want me to keep my job, and us fed, you’re going to have to get me there.” Her own nonchalance amazed her. The thing seemed to vaguely understand her. It pulled her toward the closet. She had to suppress a slight moan as she realized she was traveling on her own cunt across an oozing layer of her own grool.

She reached into the closet. The head popped in and nosed around too. She bopped it lightly, and immediately regretted it. It did duck back, but she also felt like someone had just flicked her with a finger across her most sensitive nub. It hurt. She winced, but still managed to fish out a bra and work shirt, which she put on. She also grabbed her purse.

“Alright, you, lets go.” She felt it contract and extend, moving her towards the door. She was able to reach out and open it as she slid onto the stairs. The mucus she excreted protected her from the sharp edges of the stairs, and she was able to get the thing to turn just enough to let her close the door.

Thankfully work was close, she normally walked since she didn’t own a car. Maybe she could do this. “You need a name. I can’t call you my cunt, still can I?” The thing seemed to look up at her a bit, but then returned to its focus on moving down the stairs. “I’ve no idea what to call you.” She rambled off names, finally it looked up at her when she said “Lilly”.  By this point she was on the sidewalk heading for work. A few cars honking at her strange appearance. “Okay, Lilly it is then.” She pondered how she could even communicate with something that by all rights should not have a brain, and really should just be part of herself. Shrugging she pointed forward. “Alright Lily, off we go, pick up the pace we need to get to work.”

Remarkably despite the persistent rumor that slugs were slow, she made decent time and arrived after about thirty minutes. Still oozing. She did learn that the mass would detour though any puddle it could find, soaking up fresh fluids through the porous skin.

Finally, she slid into work. Her boss was standing at the desk, back to her. “Christine, you’re late!” “Sorry, I kind of had some issues.”
He turned to look at her, his jaw falling open. “Um, Christine, you seem to have a problem.” “Oh, nothing a six-foot-long dildo wouldn’t cure.”

Her boss had no response to that.


Re: Chemical Aftermath Series - by palindrome256


Hello, Mother
By Palindrome256

Tara stared out at the gray drizzle from the worn couch. Another day inside. Almost every day of her life spent staring out the window. She shifted, her foot tingling from where she’d been sitting on it too long. Her perfectly normal foot. Not like Jeanie who had feet like an elephant. Just normal dainty human feet.

Sighing she looked down at the worn books that were on her bedside. Years of reading instead of playing had isolated her from everyone else as one by one her friends succumbed to the noxious fumes and chemical laden waters that coursed through the town. By junior year she’d been the last. Bets had been placed as to whether she’d make it out of high school without mutating, but somehow, she had. They’d even given her an award about it, though it seemed more depressing than not. By being normal, she was the one who was different. She glanced at her hands, long slender fingers not a trace of webbing or claw. She wondered how the other kids felt seeing themselves mutate. She had to admit a ping of jealousy.

The lights flickered a moment, reminding her of the tentative power supply. It was getting harder and harder to get supplies into the region, and the region was getting bigger. She’d tried to leave only to find that it’d spread farther than she could get. Her mother had collected her in the car, using precious gas to track her down at the bus station three hours away.

She remembered that bus ride. Her chance at freedom. The bumps from the potholes, the rush of the air as they headed down roads long since abandoned by most cars. Only those few trucks that risked the trek into the blight. That’s what they were calling it now. The aftermath of a chemical disaster that had mixed with the water, leeched into the air, and permeated the ground. She’d tried to escape, only the be hauled back by her irate mother. They’d fought for days. She’d yelled at her mother for not leaving when she had the chance. She still could perhaps, she was barely mutated herself, and she’d raised a daughter with so much caution that even at twenty-three she still retained her humanity.

But it was a humanity without value now. What value was there to being the last human? Her college days had hardly been any better than her high school ones. Alone, hidden in dorms studying aging books with professors who no longer seemed to care. The local college was all she could afford, and she’d tried to succeed. Four more years of study had given her a piece of paper she hadn’t even known what she could do with. Jobs were scarce now, and a degree was hardly worth the paper it was printed on in a world where survival was the order of the day.

She stared outside at the rain again. She wondered what it’d be to have a tail or even to become a blob. Vinny didn’t seem to mind being a sentient bowl of pudding. Not that he could do much more than burble and make fart noises now. She shivered, wondering how much humanity she would eventually lose. She couldn’t stay safe forever. No one could. One by one the people around her had changed.
The postman still delivered, but now had two heads. One that was Miles, and the other they’d named Mildred. She’d wondered how much more of him had changed when he became them.

“You need to stop moping.” Her mother’s voice rasped, harsh from years of working near toxic fumes. “I’m not moping.” Tara replied crossly.
Her mother put her hands on her hips, “Yes, you are. What are you doing about finding a job?” “Waiting,” came the absent reply.
“For?” Her mother inquired.

Tara gestured vaguely at the window, “The rain to stop, of course.”

“Good girl.” Her mother smiled weakly and moved off into the kitchen, her only tell that she wasn’t fully human anymore were the tips of her ears that folded down in a rather porcine manner, peaking through her slowly graying curls.

Tara turned back to the window and wondered.

***   ***  ***

The house was still her prison. What else could she call it? The rain had not let up in days. The steady drip of iridescent drops, each promising danger that made her shiver with a mix of fear and excitement. She couldn’t keep going on like this. Days of watching the rain, wondering what the future might hold. She needed to live. But she hesitated. Live for what? She wanted to be around people again.  She barely saw anyone anymore. She’d grown up increasingly isolated. Her fingers twitched as she thought about the rain again. About running out and dancing in it, letting the pollution do what it would with her so she might not be the only normal person left. To risk becoming half a giant spider like the lady down the street, perhaps? There were no guarantees what the chemicals would do to her, save change her. She’d thought about it a thousand times before, and each time her mother’s fear made her hide in from the rain as she saw everyone she knew changed.

Her fingers clenched and unclenched, the perfectly trimmed nails leaving small crescents on her palms. She knew one day she’d get caught. Why not make it her decision to when? Getting up from the couch she shivered a little in the cool autumn temperatures. The house’s heat had quit working years ago.
She needed something warmer.

***   ***  ***

The door opened to her hand. Six weeks now of rain.  Not a single day she could risk leaving the house to even dash to one of the few stores that remained. No one to see her, no one to talk to save her mother. She was slowly going insane. She stood under the porch, watching the splatter of drops fall everywhere. Delicate, soothing, yet so frightening. She’d tired of watching through the window, and for the last week she’d stepped as far as the porch. Inching nearer to catastrophe or salvation.

Each time she set foot outside she wondered if it would finally be the day. Her day. Why should she live as a human when no one else did? The price of her freedom was only her humanity, something her mother valued more than she. Maybe today. Her fingers clenched around the door frame, fear pushing back. Maybe not.

Tara started to turn, her heel coming down on the aging wood of the porch with an awkward twist. The wood cracked and splintered under her, sending her sprawling backwards. Her arms windmilled; balance lost. Time slowed as she felt her body falling backwards onto the green-brown grass, the first drops splashing against her face, cool and soft. Fate had decided for her.

She lay there on the ground for a moment. Her body exposed to the rains as their chemical laden waters drenched her. She should be terrified. She knew what was coming, but instead she laughed. It was over. The fear was over. She knew she’d change, and at last she’d be free of the prison of her house. The fear that had held her for twenty-three years released in a tidal wave of giddy laughter as she just let the rain fall upon her.

Her mind wandered, wondering what would change about her. Would she get tentacles? How about a dozen eyes? What about a tail? Oh, she liked the idea of a tail, but it didn’t matter. What would come, would come. She slowly sat up and lifted herself off the ground, water pouring down her face. Droplets getting into her mouth leaving a taste of acidic metal.

She hobbled inside, her ankle smarting, and stripped off her clothes, throwing them in the tub. There was no hiding what was to come, why should she bother. She took a moment to take a last look at herself in the mirror. She gave herself an appraising look. She felt she was pretty enough, a bit chubbier than she might like with thick thighs. Her brown hair hung limply over her eyes now, making her a bit bedraggled in a just out of the shower kind of way, as rivulets of water traced down her chest, tiny droplets beading off her nipples. This was what she had just given up.

How long it would take? Her mind spun. Some people reacted quickly; others took days. There was no way to tell save to let it happen. She dried herself off with a towel, feeling exhausted, yet giddy. She wanted to stay and watch until it happened, her eyes glued to the mirror for any sign of reaction, but nothing. Five, ten, twenty minutes passed and she grew weary of staring at herself in the mirror. She shouldn’t waste the light anyway. Reluctantly she peeled herself away, her stomach starting to grumble.

There wasn’t much to eat, but she found some leftovers that she ate cold from an old ceramic dish. The ancient microwave was iffy at best and she didn’t think it was worth the risk of getting electrocuted for a meal. At last, feeling a bit better she gave herself another look over, her skin showing nothing save its soft normal golden color that she’d had all her life.

***   ***  ***

Tara awoke with a start, still naked on the couch where she’d fallen asleep. Her body felt wracked with pain. She clenched her arms around her waist as she bent forward, her back on fire. She could feel

something there. Something growing. She tried to stand, wanting to see what was happening in the mirror, but her legs would not cooperate. The first attempt ended up no better than reaching her knees before her legs burned and buckled under her. The second try resulted in her falling forward, her legs flopping out behind her unable to shift or move. She reached down, feeling a ridge along her hip that rippled under her fingers. She probed her thighs and pressed deeply into the flesh, feeling no resistance as if her bones were just gone. Grabbing the carpet, she tried to haul herself forward, but her arms couldn’t move her increasing weight with the bulk that continued to press down on her back. She was stuck here.

She couldn’t see much. It was late, and dark. Her body flexing under the mutation. Sometimes she could feel the changes as her body realigned, other times she relied on her fingers to feel. The mass on her back was now large enough to feel all the way to the crack of her ass. The edges were hard, with a whirled texture. Below her waist her legs had fused. She could feel the ridges growing along the edges, now reaching the floor. With a little thought she could control them, and they pressed against the floor giving her the slightest motion. She pulled harder only to feel something squirt from inside herself.

Fingers reflexively reached down to her vulva; its mass pressed out against the floor where her legs joined. A slick goo oozed out of her coating the tailing crest of her hips, slipping downward onto what had been her legs. She shifted the flanges along the remnants of her legs only to feel her pussy belch forth another trail of slime, coating more of her legs, and this time she felt herself lurch slightly forward. Again and again, until she could feel the ooze slipping all the way down to what once were her toes

Pulling herself again, this time her new appendage working with her as the slime let her at last slide across the carpet, she managed to make her way slowly to the bathroom. The light was nearly out of reach from her position on the floor but she managed before scooting herself behind the door to see what the full-length mirror offered her.

The image that revealed was both expected and unexpected. She knew the feel of the weight on her back, but it was quite another thing to see the whorled colored shell of iridescent greens and browns. Her legs were gone, replaced with the slimy foot of the snail she’d become. Her vulva providing lubricant not just for sex now, but for motion itself. She guessed she’d need to get over her modesty. This was made more obvious by the small rises that were slowly growing from her chest as one by one her torso sprouted four more breasts, each full and ripe, sensitive to the touch as her long fingers played with them.

Her focus became blurry, her eyelids drooped as first one eye, then the other popped out and hung down from their socket sending her visual world reeling. It took her a moment to realize she could lift her eyes again. Her vision cleared as she slowly managed to get them both lifted together, blinking slowly as she realized her eyes were now on long stalks that rose up over the top of her head. Still the same soft brown eyes. She experimented turning one then the other until she could process the whole of the room in a single motion, her brain’s visual centers rewiring to process a new three dimensions visual world.

Looking down again she regarded her arms. At least she’d kept her hands. Those long fingers remained her own, and perhaps now they were the last real signs of her humanity. Not that she cared. She slipped them down her breasts, feeling each new nipple, a soft sigh coming from her lips as she felt the tingling from each new nub as it was gently flicked, twisted, or pulled. Her slit now gushing, leaving herself in a pool of her own sticky juices, to which her fingers wandered. She pulled apart her lips, feeling the sensitivity that crept along each fold as she delved into her own womanhood, wondering if more had changed than she realized. Explorations turned into ministrations as she started to drive her fingers deeper with more abandon, her other hand reaching up to play with as many breasts as she could manage, coating them in her own slime.

She reveled in it. Each orgasm sending shivers through her new tail. The ripples of her new flesh in time with the pulsing of her orgasms.  She felt herself reaching a crescendo as her body bucked and squirmed. Insider herself she felt a pressure, a need for release. Her fingers drover onward, forcing themselves to crest that mountain she needed. At last, she let out a scream, her vulva pulsing as contractions spasmed through her vagina, pushing out object after object as each drove her to new heights of orgasm as they passed through her canal. Exhausted she let out a moan as she felt the last spherical white egg slip from her now very tender pussy. The floor covered in a mess of her own slime and a pile of nearly two dozen such eggs.

***   ***  ***

The door opened and closed, the house was dark save for the light from the bathroom, but there was no noise. “Tara? What happened to the porch? There’s a hole in…” Her mother’s voice caught as she saw the shape emerging from the bathroom hallway. Hands flew to her mouth, “oh, my baby girl,” she cried as tears welled in her eyes.

Tara’s eyestalks bobbed, “Hello, mother. I’ve changed.”