Page 29 of The Dire Reaction

My left arm, now free, snakes out to grasp her throat. Changes in my structure offer a different sensation though. My reach is longer, my new fingers tear through the gibbering folds of her neck, clefting her windpipe. Her doe eyes widen when blood sprays over my face and chest in time with her frantic heartbeats. The screen she carried clatters to the floor. Her heavy body follows quickly.

The metallic stinging scent of her fluids wafts over me, but my attention is taken with the appendage I hold out. My arm is darkened with coarser hair, my fingers stunted. Oddest of all, I seem to have thickened nails protruding well beyond the tips. Those are what ravaged through her skin so easily. Both hands have changed, warped, my palms thicker, but soft.

Interesting.

My stomach grumbles again, motivated by the intoxicating smell of her spreading pool of darkening red. In all my years of playing with my prizes, I don’t remember being hungry for them. Tired of them, bored with them, yes. But, hunger, that’s new and exciting. She doesn’t look like my usual trophy. I like mine younger, prettier.

The blanket pushes off, my legs swing over the side, but they lose purchase on the slick floor. My feet scream as my joints rebel against my heels touching the floor. Fighting to maintain my balance, I slump back against the firm mattress.

Dark hair covers my legs, thickly across my thighs. Why does it hurt to try and touch my heels down? My toes are longer, and have thickened nails, matching the new cuticles of my hands. Hot sticky liquid soothes the cold of my feet on the tile. My balance straightens when I abandon trying to make my heels hit the ground.

I feel taller, and utterly ridiculous with this inane gown wrapped around me. The geometric pattern fades when it falls to the pool of crimson at my feet.

And what THE FUCK has happened to my cock? A layer of flesh and hair across my belly sheaths my length, hidden from the air. Careful of my new claws, I palm my length, slightly reassured at its hidden presence. It puzzles me what malady I have contracted that my cock now resembles that of a dog?

Exploring further, my scrotum still hangs as it always has, though the hair has thickened around my legs.

These claws will take adjustments. I nick my skin. A bead of my own blood mingles in the pool at my feet. The dart of pain springs into my belly. Another small nick twitches my cock in its sheath, a reminder I’m alive. How long have I slumbered that this woman felt such comfort in her actions?

I rake my claws across my stomach, enticing trails of fire surge blood to my loins as it spills over my legs. Another twitch, I can feel myself stirring, hardening. Palming the skin of my sheath, my lengthening cock firms until it breaches its moist slit.

The repugnant mongrel I am, the tip of my dick is flared, with small barbs encircling the mushrooming head. The cool air of the room is a shock against its entrance, yet it continues a tendril climb from my belly. Course are the pads on my palm touching the smooth flesh now exposed. Too sensitive, the pain is raw when I touch myself, my hands too rough.

Soft hands lay at my feet. Stretching my back as I bend, my sharp nails rend through the soft skin of her elbow currying a soft ooze of clotting blood. It is surprisingly easy to twist the joint loose, to stand now with an arm and hand. The flayed flesh finds its way to my lips. Hot and smooth, the muscle still twitches against my tongue. Rich savory flavor floods into me, sating the rabid hunger that has twisted in my bowels. Reminiscent of my favorite rare prime rib, delicate nibbles of pale flesh go down quickly until nearly down to the wrist has been consumed.

I wrap the cooling fingers around my hardened cock, and long strokes fill my tightening belly with pleasure. Too long it has been since I have felt this, the quivering in my thighs. My palm keeps slipping over the flaccid hand. Growling in frustration, I swipe at her other mottling arm, severing it at the elbow more deftly than before.

I like my new hands. Though not as nimble as the old ones, they certainly have their use. Two dismembered hands now corral my burgeoning cock. My pulse quickens as I alternate the strokes.

What is that? A node? A lump? I know I’m nearing release, and my cock has swollen a new feature. A knot near midshaft disrupts my rhythm, but feels so good when I brush it with the cold chubby fingers.

Crouching over the glassy eyes of the woman, I stroke myself to a harrowing release, squirting my seed across her gaping face. My climax rolls through me, I aim my cock for her open mouth, pushing the barbed end against her tongue. The barb grabs and moves her limp flesh within her jaws.

This is what I think of you touching me, my detested chopped name spewing from your lips.

Drained, I shove one of the useless hands into her mouth; the other I push into the cavity I created in her throat.

Now, to find a way out of this place.

Chapter seventeen

SAM

I’vegotthelocalTV news channel on low in the background to keep me from falling too deeply into my own head until Dani arrives. Some of the shit I’ve been hearing is wild. Giant wolf-like dogs attacking people in the middle of cities has panic stricken citizens crying too close to microphones held by bored looking journalists.

Smoke billows from the barbeque as it burns off the remnants of previous meals. Thor naps nearby, but one of his caramel eyes opens and follows me every time I go near the grill.

Smart dog.

I’m wrapping squares of aluminum foil around freshly scrubbed Yukon potatoes when her blue Toyota pulls into the yard. My cock snaps to attention and immediately starts leaking when I watch her climb out of her truck.

Maybe I need to start wearing adult diapers or some shit. The mess I make in my boxers when I even think of her is annoying. If there’s any hope of regaining control of that function, please let it happen soon.

Did she just knock? That’s cute. Like I didn’t fuck her sideways yesterday.

“You don’t need to knock,” I tell her as I open the door. Her cheeks turn pink when she sees my smile.

“Hi, Sam. I, well, you never know. I might have been interrupting something, well, scandalous.” Her big blue eyes shine mischievously over the smile playing along the edges of her pink lips.

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