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senorincognito69 · 2 years

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Shapeshifting anthologies I (Monthly tale - 49)

-Red poison

(Woman into snake)*

The endless tides of warfare, the constant reshaping of the frontier.

After a two year war the Kingdom of Regenta, despite their proficiency on the battlefield, had fallen to the machinations of the Rumini Clans. Walls had shattered, banners had been torn down, the tarantula ate the bear, a king had died and a new Sovereign Warlock had risen.

All thanks to the shivering heart of a flustering princess.

Queen Gloria Magdalena the Fourth had managed to evade capture with her eldest daughter and one of her royal guards. The Sovereign Warlock and the treacherous princess had sent word to the four winds, offering peace and the promise of dignity to the fleeting queen and princess.

Gloria had rejected it.

The queen had something else in mind, the only desire that remained in her chest, that most pitiful of things: Vengeance

And she was willing to give her all for it.

In one of frontier towns of the desert Nomem lands, shady enclaves that existed under the vague rules of the Tradery, Queen Magdalena’s scheme was about to be unveiled.

It was a dark room, in a dark building, down a dark alleyway.

A place no sensible traveller would ever enter and yet Queen Magdalena stood there barefooted. She was already completely naked, covering herself in red robes. Her daughter and her loyal guard had pleaded, begged her not to do it, to accept the warlock’s offer, but the queen’s mind was fixed.

https://i.imgur.com/BENieHE.jpg

There was no dignity in surrender.

Her kingdom had fallen by trickery and treachery, unsavoury undignified arts that were nothing but an offence to the chivalric code and she was going to repay them in the same currency.

“Mother, please, just listen to me!” her daughter cried behind her. “They are treating our people fairly, we can go back, rebuild and endure and maybe someday take back what's ours!”

Magdalena gave the princess a dreadful stare, colder than the bitterest winter.

“If the peasants choose the usurpers before us they don’t deserve our rule, but only our scorn! You are the last rightful heir to Regenta, you’d better not forget that! Our royal line knows where they belong!”

A crackling laugh, the arched figure covered in dragging rags came out from the darkness.

It was the one offering Magdalena what she wished for.

“Widow Queen!” clucked the crooked one. “Widow Queen, the room is fitted, your vengeance, your doom! Now tis your last opportunity to walk away, cause once done you will have no legs!”

Squeezing the red cloth that only barely covering her nudity, looking down at the chuckling djinn with anger and disgust.

“Swear again, fench,” she said, raising her voice. “Swear that if I do this my wish will be granted!”

The crooked one solemnly raised one hand.

“Yes, yes, we do, we swear to you and to all! Give up your place in history, Widow Queen, embrace the pest that resides in your heart and you will be granted what you desire: A bottle of venom capable of killing a warlock king, and no more.”

Magdalena lips were clenched.

“So it will be…” she slowly declared.

“No!” sobbed the princess.

“My lady!” the royal guard protested, finally stepping out into the scene. “I can’t…! You can’t!”

“I am your regent, guard!” the queen barked with authority. “You are to obey me, until your last breath!” the queen had to slightly restrain herself, covering her stiff nipples with the cloth. “This is my last command: Take care of the princess… and make sure my poison reaches our enemies!”

The guard had no will to resist orders,

“Yes, my liege.” they said, holding the princess.

“NO!” her daughter shouted.

The crooked one pointed at the two of them.

“You are witness, witness to her disgrace!” then it pointed at the queen. “Renounce your clothes, Widow Queen!”

Magdalena, with a stoic expression, opened her robes and let them fall down to the floor. Her mature sensuality held firm despite the shivering of her skin.

“Good, good!” the crooked one clapped, bowing and moving aside. “Now do it, Widow Queen, step into the void, certain that what will come out will never again be a woman!”

The princess struggled in the guards’ grip.

“Mom! MOM, DON’T DO IT!”

With her daughter's tears behind her Magdalena walked to that dark opening in the dark wall, with it only taking her four steps to pass through the frame and disappear into the shadows.

The world disappeared behind her, everything became muffled, her breath echoing in the darkness, it was asphyxiating. Those few minutes, nude and alone in the void, made her realise she was no longer a queen.

Just a frail grieving woman who had made a terrible mistake.

The red light shone right before her eyes.

There was no going back for her.

Her throat dried.

“Nghhhhh!”

https://i.imgur.com/MXssInN.jpg

A suffocating heat moistened her skin with sweat. The light grew in intensity and the woman contorted, her breath speeding up, her muscles twisted, tensing up.

Buttocks clenched tightly, her vertebrae snapped.

“GHHHHHGGGGH!”

Her spine began to elongate, one painful pulse at a time. The upper half of her body stretched and thinned, leaving behind her bottom. Wiggling like a noodle she dropped onto her knees, then down onto full fours.

Her body kept getting longer, her hair fell away, her terrified pupils flattened into reptilian stripes as the pain disfigured her face.

From the void a judgemental voice resounded.

“You gave three children to a tyrant,” spoke the voice. “Three thousand eggs you shall give back to the world!”

The queen shook her head.

“Noooh! NOSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Her screams were silenced by the hissing, her tongue split in two, when she tried to yell again her mouth opened inhumanly wide, fangs turned pointier and longer.

Unable to resist the tension any longer, her skin began to tear as if it was old leather, revealing scales of a vivid red hue. At the same time her neck began to lengthen beyond her torso as a tail sprouted from her regal arse, dragging with itself the gaping holes of her sex and her anus.

Bald, deforming and mutating the queen grabbed her face with trembling fingers.

“HIIIISSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

She pulled, she ripped and tore, the snake’s head came out. Limbs flailed and she dropped flat into the black door below. Bending her long spine in an attempt to stand up only served to destroy what was left of her human husk.

The void swallowed the queen’s skin.

The snake impotently rolled around in anger and misery as she was compressed into her new form. Any remaining limb shrank into nothing, any trace of the mammal a distant memory. Hissing loudly the reptile coiled and tangled herself on the floor until the light shone back over her brand new scales.

https://i.imgur.com/QQtVzpI.jpg

With predatory alertness, tasting the air with her tongue, the snake shook the tip of her tail… until she was engulfed by the darkness once more when the red robe fell over her.

“Come here, come here, you beautifully pitiful thing!” gloated the crooked one, skillfully picking up the furious snake covered with the robe that moments ago had covered the queen’s modesty.

The snake wiggled furiously, trapped in the cloth, the crooked one had no shyness, care or gentleness as he forced the head of the hissing reptile out and one of her fangs into the opening of the crystal bottle he was holding in the other hand, milking the dangerous red venom of the creature.

When the bottle was full the crooked one pushed the cloth against the princesses chest.

“Hold it, hold it tight, young one, you don’t want the thing inside to slither free!”

The princess, shocked and pale, just nodded, hugging the robe, trying to calm the snake inside. Meanwhile the crooked one sealed the bottle and put it on a nearby table, before pointing at the royal guard with one of his long bony fingers.

https://i.imgur.com/AE7kJr4.jpg

“You get your quest,” it said, following it by leaping towards the exit door and pointing at the princess. “You, follow me! Hurry, hurry, bring the snake! The last phase must be completed!”

The guard and princess stared at each other and nodded in silent agreement, bound together by fate. The princess followed the crooked one out of the dark room, into the dark alleyway.

The crooked one giggled, moving quickly, like a shadow over the ground, the princess struggled to follow him, the snake hissing inside the robe. Her fingers could feel the reptile under the cloth, the fit muscles of the long thin body, the hard scales…

Queen Gloria Magdalena, fourth of her name. Queen Gloria Magdalena the wise, the just, the beloved, the beautiful. Gloria Magdalena, the woman, her mother, a widow blinded by the desire of vengeance, transformed by her own choice into a snake with scales as red as her womanly rage.

Tears fill the princess's eyes.

Following the crooked one they left the town, travelling into the rocky surroundings and by late noon they arrived. The crooked creature stopped near a hole in the ground and welcomed the princess to approach with hand gestures.

“Here, here, this is the place where you say goodbye to your snake mother!”

With uncertain steps the princess moved closer to the edge of the hole, she looked down, even in the darkness the floor below seemed to be moving. She squinted her eyes and saw hundreds of snakes gathering in the coolness of the shadows.

The reptiles tangled with each other, busy in a seemingly endless orgy.

It was a snake pit.

“Throw the snake in the robe down!” the crooked one exclaimed.

The princess blinked, confused.

“W-What?”

“There’s where your snake mother belongs, girl! She has to take her natural place in the world! She will not change back, ever, but if she doesn’t give back what she owes to nature, her poison will be weak and impotent! Hurry! Hurry! Throw in the snake, her suitors are waiting! The males want her!”

Underneath the robe the snake coiled. The princess, paler than a corpse, hugged the creature she was holding. Her ears, deaf to her own heart, recalled some of Magdalenas last human words.

“We know where we belong…” whispered the princess. “Goodbye and good fortune, mother…”

Stretching her arms out, the princess opened the robe, the red snake was liberated, wiggling in the air, falling down until landing gently on top of her reptile siblings.

The crooked one howled and clapped.

The princess dropped to her knees, looking down at the snake pit. The red snake was visible even in the dark among her less flamboyant kin. Two males quickly wrapped themselves around the female, the princess saw their double headed penises penetrating her mother and the snake her mother was, hissing with pleasure, rolling around until she lost sight of her…

And the queen was no more.

https://i.imgur.com/FW3bGiF.jpg

-Marketing Success: Squeal aloud

(Woman into pig)*

The recording began with an interview.

The filming took place in a spacious, fancy looking room, which was sparsely decorated, a big comfy chair in the centre of the shoot in which Miley Cyrus was sitting.

Once a popular Disney child actress, Miley's days as Hannah Montana were long behind her. The young woman had lifted her career into prominence, leaving behind her formerly family friendly self for a more irreverent and openly sexual one to become a successful singer in her own right.

A metamorphosis of sorts… and she was planning to make another big change in her life, one her haters would consider even more outrageous.

She was a very thin, petite, white skinned woman, her blond hair cut tightly short, a prominent chin, a self-sufficient smirk across her pink lips, her big blue eyes hidden behind a pair of large sunglasses. She was barefooted, wearing torn jeans and a wrinkled blouse which didn’t hide the fact that no bra was covering her small perky breast at all, there were lots of trinkets and jewellery hanging from her neck, ears and fingers. Miley was leaning back against the chair as if she was about to take a nap, her legs spread, with one of them resting over the arm of the chair.

She was holding a large clear glass filled with a ton of ice and a killer pinkish cocktail that she was drinking from a curly straw. On the arm of the chair that she wasn’t using to rest her leg there was an ashtray with her smoke.

The camera zoomed in as Miley took a long and loud slurp from her cocktail, resting her head.

“So,” she said when she’d finished drinking. “Are we ready to begin rolling or what?”

The reporter answered from outside the shot.

“Yes, yeah, we are already filming.”

Miley chuckled, stirring the ice in the glass with the straw.

“Then what are you waiting for? Hit me with the hard hitting questions!”

“Sure, so first of all, thanks for agreeing to the interview…”

“You can spare me the pleasantries, let’s go to work.”

“S-Sorry! Then I will get back on topic.”

“Be blunt mate.”

“Why Shift Inc. Miley?”

Miley took a short slurp from her cocktail before continuing.

“That’s an easy one, cause there’s no other company that offers what they offer.”

“Beauty and health products for women?”

“Of course, the best products in the market, aren’t they?” she shrugged gently. “Also the whole horny women transforming into beasts thing. I’m not calling out anything, but it is funny how we pretend that isn’t a big part of their success.”

There was a small pause that Miley used to take a drag from her smoke.

“Are the rumours true?” asked the reporter.

Miley sarcastically rolled her eyes behind her glasses.

“Pffft, rumours! As if a famous girl ever had any right to intimacy!”

“But…”

“Yes, it’s true. I’m gonna make an ad for Shift Inc., I’m gonna overdose on their hormones on set and we are going to film while I fully transform,” she raised her arms. “Yippy for me!”

“Do you understand that…”

“That once I get down on all fours I’m not getting back up? Yep, I understand that, I am not a fool being duped, I know perfectly well what I am doing and I can assure you I will not be the last one to do it… I’m probably not even gonna be the most spectacular, but it is what it is.”

“Why then?”

“Do you know Pinocchio? The Disney one?”

“Yes.”

“The donkey scene?”

“The scary transformation?“

“Scary?” Miley laughed. “That shit is hot like hell pal, you can’t tell me the people who made that don’t have some weird kinks on their book! It almost made me want to go jennet, but I don’t want to be second mule.”

“Second mule…? Is this about the Kardashian incident?”

“Hey, I’m not here to flog a dead horse, my best wishes go to Kimmy the zebra. She’s clearly doing great now, better than when she was a lady if those videos of her getting along with her new coworkers are true. Her ass looks better covered in striped fur, but that equine flavour ain’t for me.“

“So what are you becoming Miley?”

“A pig.”

“Pig?”

“Yup, a common oinking porcine, nothing fancy, but that’s my choice.”

“Why a pig?”

“Plenty of reasons, like, did you know they have the longest and sweetest orgasms of all mammals?”

“I would say that’s a pretty well known fact.”

Miley frowned.

“It is? I guess everybody is a witty know-everything these days, everybody knows me, ain’t that right?”

“What do you mean?”.

“Come on Destiny Hope, Hannah Montana, Miley Cyrus… pffff! What about my real self, uh?” the singer took a long drag from her smoke.

“You seem to be going way too meta, I’m not sure if I follow…”

“This is just fiction, mate, the woman I am, the pig I will be, just a comfy tale we tell ourselves. Only I know me, not you, or that camera, or whoever watches this after the fact. Everybody thinks they know me now, but when the fuss dies down, the only folks who are gonna care about Hannburge the sow winning a blue ribbon at the fair are the farmers and rural newspapers.”

“So… Are you doing it because of the paparazzi?”

“The people that get it will get it, thirty minute long orgasms bro, who would say no to that? Plus, how freaking hot it feels to change, even the ones that hate it seem to enjoy the experience right to the last second.”

“Still… a pig…”

“What? Everybody knows about long ass orgasms but you’re gonna try to pull the pigs are dirty myth? They bathe in the mud, cleaner, smarter and even more trustworthy than dogs and I am gonna be a fine example of my kind.”

“What about your family?”

Laughs.

“Dad is furious enough to climb the walls. Luckily the poor duff can’t do shit about it, my body, my choice. Sorry daddy, I found Jesus’ cock is screwed and tastes like bacon, so you are getting a litter of piglets as grandchildren… On the other hand my boyfriend is pretty chill about it, I’m still not sure if it's because he’s kinda dense or a fetish thing.“

“And your fortune? Your career?"

“A sow has no concerns about such swill. I had a good run, now you can hear me squeal.”

With an impish smile Miley put the straw in her mouth and slurped.

The video abruptly cut to the day the ad was filmed, behind the scenes footage. The filming crew went up and down, finishing the last preparations. Cameras and equipment all over the place, surrounding a simple stage, a simple sky blue background with an inflatable pool of a similar colour in the middle. The camera recording did a zoom, blurring the surroundings while it focussed, she was kneeling down, she was kneeling, wearing a big comfy white bathrobe and seemingly nothing else, as she cheerfully petted a pink, dog sized, hairy teacup pig.

“It’s finally time,” Miley gleefully said, rubbing the pig’s chubby cheeks. “You’re excited too, aren't you my fat piglet?”

The piglet oinked happily.

“Yes you are! Are you gonna suck mommy’s sugar tits when they are teats?”

Leaving the pig behind her, and while being followed by the camera the singer walked into the centre of the stage to check on the inflatable pool. She lifted a leg, revealing her pubes for a second, to touch what was inside the pool with the tip of her toe.

“Is this mud?” she asked one of the passing crew

The crewmember, a girl carrying a heavy box, looked at her and then looked at the pool.

“Yes, it is mud,” she said before continuing with her chore. “Mud or clay, that’s kinda the same? Kinda?”

Miley stared at the pool again, shrugged after a moment of consideration and wiggled her feet, then she stretched her arms.

“Okay, folks!” she shouted loudly while clapping. “I’ve got bored and I’m tired of waiting, so let’s get rolling! Move! and remember: No screw ups cause it's gonna be a single take, no do overs here!”

She was the person with the most authority around, the crew quickly obeyed her orders. Miley shook her shoulders, cracked her neck, took something from her bathrobe's pocket and then took off the bathrobe, giving it to another passing member of the crew..

Her thin sweetness was revealed, long pale limbs, nipples that were already hard, a timid bush in her crotch.

Nude in front of the mud.

“Is everything ready?” she asked.

“On your mark, ma’am!” a voice answered from behind the cameras.

Miley raised a hand and three fingers to make a countdown, in the other she was holding three pink pills.

Three…

Two…

One…

She swallowed the three pills at once and stepped into the inflatable pool, getting down onto all fours. The clapperboard snapped, the cameras began filming from all angles.

The singer knelt down into the mud, sinking her hands into the pasty cold substance.

A smile crossed her lips, followed by a joyful giggle.

Without any modesty or shame, just as a pig would, she rolled in the mud, covering her body in the brownish substance, but leaving her head mostly clean. Even if the cameras hadn’t caught the action, it was obvious what she was doing with the hand she had at her crotch.

There were more giggles, followed by a sweet low gasp.

With that so, so tender orgasm a cute tail sprang and curled, crowning her petite butt. Oinking and grunting accompanied her moans as she metamorphosed for the cameras.

Lifting herself up on all fours at the inflatable pool's edge she looked at the camera, winked and smirked, showing how her lower fangs were enloganting into pointy, curved tusks that peeked out from between her lips.

“Shift Inc.,” she chuckled.

A new pair of nipples inaugurated the changes under her breasts, emerging from her tense dirty skin. A second pair quickly followed the first, the beginnings for what soon would be the rows of teats of a prize sow.

“Shift Inghhhh!” Miley tried to repeat. “Shift Inc. hmmmmmmnnnnhhhhhhhh!”

The pleasure was clearly overwhelming her. In rapid succession her nose snorted, flattened and swelled, the foundation of her future snout. She grabbed the edge of the pool, her fingers numb as she squeezed the rubber.

Her many earrings chimed and rang as her ears begin to shake violently, flopping to the side, their skin thickening into a hairy pinkish hue. Wide pigs ears, for a proud pig woman.

“Shift Inch, OINK! Products foik geeeeeeeh…! For womeeeeeeen that want to awaken their inner beasht!” the singer clenched her teeth, stretching her neck as she stood tall on her knees. “GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHK!”

Miley squealed loudly, looking directly at the camera in open defiance.

That exact shot would be the one plastered over the world, in posters, magazines and on signboards. The centerpiece of Miley Cyrus’ marketing campaign for Shift Inc., the last one she would ever do as human.

A shot worth a million bucks.

https://i.imgur.com/AHxkpsX.png

(Manip by Transfurholic: https://twitter.com/Transfurholic)

That shot was also where the video for the ad ended, but not where the cameras stopped filming and definitely not the end of Miley’s changes. After that first squeal her eyelids spread wider, her pupils expanded giving her an otherworldly appearance as she opened her mouth, leaning forward.

The sounds that came out of her bloating neck weren’t angelical at all,but suitable only for a farm beast.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIK!”

As her snout pushed apart her eyes, disfiguring her womanly looks, her body bloated up, inflating into a pinkish balloon. Teats swelled equally at the same pace as her belly, her neck contracted into her shoulders, her hair began to drop until only a patch was left on top of the forehead.

Growing larger and fatter.

Her buttocks spread, her anus and sex were left exposed. They also mutated to match her inevitable porcine end, becoming more primitive looking, appealing only for the male dwellers of the sty.

Miley squealed and squealed, now completely unintelligible.

“SHIIIIFTTTTTTT! IIIIIIIIIGK! SQUEEEEEEEEEEE!”

It wasn’t fear, nor was it horror, it was lust, a crude sexual explosion ending her humanity. Now she knew for certain that a pig's orgasms lasted thirty minutes and even longer beyond that.

She had no regrets.

Arms and legs shortened, turning her movements sloppy, she slipped forward over the edge of the pool, then backwards, finally splashing into the mud, feeling the rubber floor with her many teats.

Fingers and toes reformed into sturdy double digited trotters that would never again pluck the strings of a guitar. The snapping symphony of her contracting bones and muscles, squishing her down into a more compact form, straightening her spine from a curve into more of a line.

The oinking singer became smaller in height, but not in weight.

A prominent forehead made her look clumsier.

Pale pinkish hairy skin, the snapping and cracking slowed down as the transformation reached its conclusion, her moist cunt twitched, ready to breed.

The sow rested her head on the pool’s edge, slowly falling asleep.

“Oink… Oiiink…”

A large sow, a big sow, a fat sow.

A happy sow.

Another successful marketing campaign by Shift Inc.

-The troublesome wanderings of an harpy's heart

(Women into seagulls)*

Two seagulls circled over Knoxville.

A clear blue sky.

They landed gracefully - on the rooftop where Janice sat.

Janice was sitting at the edge of the rooftop. she was a short, pale looking young woman, with short hair that had been growing unevenly and that was losing its blond dyed shade, turning back to its natural brown at the roots. Barefoot and bare chested, wearing baggy jeans and a baggy jacket, a bottle of scotch in her hand. She loudly twitched her lips when she felt the seagulls behind her.

“Piss off…!” she grunted, taking a long sip of her booze.

She willfully ignored the crackling shifting sounds behind her and let out a rude burp when she finished drinking. Wiping her lips with a sleeve she looked behind her.

There were two harpies behind her.

Seagull harpies.

Gertrude the maiden and Velena the seer.

Two of her sisters, sisters of the coven… and the flock.

From their heads to their crotches they were women, but the rest of their bodies belong to the avian. Their arms were white wings, featherly tails grew from their rears, webbed bird feet at the ends of their bird legs.

Both of them had long brunette manes, but Velena was the thinner of the pair, her skin was even paler than Janice’s, she stood elegantly on her inhuman legs, on her face was the usual annoyingly serene and stoic gaze, with those deeply black eyes that always seemed able to pierce flesh and bone.

Gertrude shook her feathers just as any gull would. Slightly shorter than Velena and large hipped, the expression on her wider face was far more cheerful and friendly than that of the seer.

“What are you doing, lil chick?” Gertrude asked as she and Velena approached. “Where did you get all that stuff from?”

That nickname didn’t do anything to decrease Janice’s hostility

“I stole it! Leave me alone, you flying rats! If Freda doesn’t require us I can do as I please!”

The two harpies sat on the edge of the rooftop, Velena to the left, Gertrude to the right.

“You sure can sister, we are as free as birds as much as any familiar can be, but a lonely gull is a sad sight,” Velena answered in a monotone.

“Tshhh, I don’t need your self-pity, go and tell Moon Petal that if she wants me to play along with your flock larping she should come and beg me to herself!”

Gertrude raised her wing.

“Actually Shanon didn’t send us,” the maiden harpt pointed out. “She’s still pretty pissed after… you know… That last ruckus you two had this past weekend, she told us that she hoped a cat eats you before we leave…” Gertrude quickly tapped Janice’s back. “But she doesn’t mean it at all, she’s just angry and has too big an ego! Honestly, you two are like peas in a pod, I can assure you she’s been sick with worry all week.”

“I don’t care and I meant every single word I said! I’m not coming back unless the markings make me!”

The harpy maiden sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Come on, you can’t remain a piss-baby forever sis!”

“You laid a fucking egg down my fucking throat!”

“I was following instructions.”

“That excuses you?!”

“It does when you are a witch’s familiar.”

“Fuck off!”

“I don’t make the mumbo jumbo rules here, chick, don’t blame me! That’s not to say that you weren’t trying to screw us over badly, or have you forgotten? You are just mad because you lost!” Gertrude stuck her tongue out. “Also, share the booze with your older sisters!”

“You are not-!”

Growing claws at the ends of her wings Gertrude took the bottle from the girl’s hand and began to drink - Janice couldn’t do anything to stop the harpy beyond sighing with annoyance.

“Just leave me alone, please…” she mumbled.

“Why are you so afraid, Janice?” Velena asked softly.

Janice suddenly acquired a blush that made her wish for her feathers to come back onto her face.

“You birdbrain…! I’m not afraid of anything!” she grunted.

Velena cocked her head in a creepy way.

“Well, of making connections at the very least, so why does my question?”

“Dunno, let me think,” Janice crossed her arms, pretending to wonder about the inquiry. “Ah, yes, maybe because my life is ruined and I’m not even human anymore? Is that a satisfactory answer?”

The harpy seer shook her head.

“No, or at least it doesn't feel like one at least. I guess it’s something else, something you did during your time as a witch and a woman, the same regret that made you lose your duel against our shared master.”

“How clever of you! Hey, you’re a seer, aren't you? Why don’t you use your damned powers to get an answer instead of nagging me?”

Velena shook her head.

“That’s not how the curse of foresight works, sister…” Velena looked out towards the town. “You only see a glimpse of possibilities, frightening outcomes of the innumerable threads of yarn that shape reality, you try to avoid them… successful seers can, but lowly one such as myself are doomed to become tragic tales.”

Janice chuckled.

“So you always knew you were a gull?”

“Indeed… Well, I didn’t know it would be a seagull and it wasn’t my prediction, but my twin sister’s… or perhaps it would be more accurate to say my former twin sister… The one I had for some time when I was a woman, Lorena, one lifetime ago. Her curse was stronger than mine, just as we became teens she foretold it: That I would be a bird… and that she would be a cow and nothing could be done to spare us from our fates. We parted ways after we reached adulthood, I must confess we never really got along, I hated her for setting that looming threat in my future. A constant in my life I could never forget…”

Gertrude pointed at Velena with the bottle.

“No wonder you are always so gloomy! Have you seer-girls ever considered that perhaps your prophecies are only prophecies because you make them self-fulfilling?”

Velena nodded.

“That’s not a new theory, it may very well be true, yet…” the harpy seer stretched her wings. “It didn’t change the outcome… Lorena joined a coven too and one day, in the middle of an unrelated ritual, turned herself into a cow… We never knew if by mistake or willingly, only that her sisters made sure she was happy on the farm.”

Janice rolled her eyes.

“Nice, she’s a fat cow, you’re dumb bird and we can’t escape fate! Thanks for such a wonderful lesson! I’m really feeling the avian sisterhood right now!”

“Lorena was right about what she and I were. She’s a dairy cow, I am a seagull… but she was wrong about many other things.”

“Such as?”

“She was wrong when she claimed I would be a lonesome bird. The day our coven became a flock it was mortifying, not just because of the changes or the humiliation, but despite all that… self-fulfilling dread… it was also liberating… It’s not that bad to be a gull.”

“If you say so…” Janice shrugged.

“On that pier, when you changed us back for just a moment to rob us of hope… I was upset, angry, but not surprised, your actions are what sealed our fate, Janice.”

“Are you accusing me?”

“No, I wouldn’t, you were a witch doing what witches usually do, and that is what we were...”

“I wasn’t a witch!” Gertrude quickly pointed out.

Velena glanced at her.

“Does that make you any less of a gull?”

“No, I guess it doesn’t…” she lowered her head to take another sip from her scotch.

The harpy seer put her wing across Janice's shoulder.

“The point I’m trying to make is, as you must have figured out because you are not a dumb bird, is that you don’t have to be alone. You have a flock.”

“...”

“I’ve seen your tale before, a covenless witch that without any training taps into the witchery arts with enough skill to stop it from backfiring… She causes trouble, thinks herself queen of the world… and then crashes hard against a wall she thought was an open window…”

“So you can read me like an open book, uh?” Janice shook her shoulders. “What if I never tell you about my trauma? What then?”

“Even so our bond remains and we care for you. I doubt whatever weight you’re dragging around is as terrible as you think, we are all harpies here, we are all monsters… but if I’m wrong you only have to share it and make us fly away in disgust!

Janice looked away.

“Tshhh…!”

Gertrude gave the bottle back to her.

“You’re too harsh on yourself, chick!” she said.

Janice gave the harpy maiden a smug stare.

“What do you know, waitress?”

“Ohhh, you’re trying to hit me below the belt?” Gertrude chuckled. “You must be quite weak if you get so defensive at the gentlest rub of a feather!”

“Are you insinuating something?”

“Velena already told ya, I was a waitress, you were a witch, that doesn’t change what we are now: Familiars, harpies, seagulls. Do you think you are the only one that has lost stuff after getting screwed and transformed?”

“No… Just…”

“Just what? Before all of this I had a life too. I was engaged, you know? But one day, that was just like any other I was doing my work, looking after our habitual group of weirdo posh ladies in the diner… uuuh, no offence.”

“No offence taken,” Velena calmly replied.

“And then BAM!” the harpy maiden raised her wings. “I began to squawk and shrink and feathers sprouted out my arse! It sucked? Of course it did! You are a person half your life and then you have to cope with having to be a flying rat for the other half, I don’t even like the beach that much! But what am I gonna do? Live feeling upset everyday? That isn’t going to make the world any fairer. Then one day you show up and prank us like a psycho for no reason, should I remain angry at you forever?”

Janice lowered her eyes.

“Maybe…” she mumbled. “What happened to your fiance…?”

Gertrude shrugged.

“He married a friend of mine, they had a nice enough wedding, I flew over their happy day and scavenged a lot of tasty food. I am a seagull, that’s what I do… and I’m not sure I wanna go back even if I could,” she leaned against Janice. “This life is way more interesting than being a waitress. I think I know what you need…”

“What?” chuckled Janice. “My flock family?”

“Nah, well, yes, but you also need to blow off stream and lay some chicks of your own!”

Janice turned red once more.

“What?!”

“Have some happy rubbing, fertilize some eggs…?”

“I know what you mean, but I’m not gonna… How can you…”

“What about that guy over there then? He’s been there looking at us for a while.”

Gertrude pointed towards a nearby rooftop where a seagull was was standing eating bread. Janice frowned.

“That’s just a pest! I’m not laying anybody’s eggs!”

“No need to be squishy, I laid a few broods of my own when I was just a bird, it is quite entertaining. How about hooking up with some humans then? Monster girls are quite popular these days!”

“It feels like arguing about that is gonna truly give me bird brain…”

Suddenly, without any warning, the necks of all three of them began to glow orange.

“Seems like Freda is calling us,” pointed out Velena.

She and Gertrude looked at Janice with big bright eyes- Janice sighed in defeat and gave the bottle of scotch to Velena, who eagerly seized the chance to drink some.

“It isn’t like I can reject the call…!” she said, getting up.

“Don’t complain too much, it could be way worse,” she told her the harpy seer. “You could be a goose!”

“You keep saying that as if it was a great argument…! But… why would a goose be any worse?” Janice asked, taking off her jacket.

“It’s obvious why, they are evil ducks!” explained Gertrude.

Janice took off her pants, fully nude she rubbed her arms, prepared herself.

Allowed the changes to flow.

Even though the magic was familiar it still felt great.

She extended her arms, at their ends her fingers clapped together, forming a singular mass that stretched into smooth flappers. The deformed skin tensed, tiny white spots sprouting all over it, flourishing into full feathers.

Soon she had wings for arms.

Down followed her legs Janice’s knees bent and her toes tingled, a web grew between each single pair as each foot flattened. Perfect for the land, the sea or the air. Instead of growing feathers, the skin of her lower limbs roughened into a solid orange.

Whilst the feathers didn’t conquer her legs or her feet, they did take over many other places. Her crotch, her ass, between her sweaty breasts. She bent her head with a gasp of pleasure, and a few more feathers followed, this time dark ones, surrounding the corners of her eyes in quite an elegant way.

She was a harpy, just like her flock sisters.

A harpy of the waves, a roaming harpy.

Yet the elegance of her form could equally have been just a mirage as she continued her metamorphosis into her beastly form, that perhaps was her true one. Her skull pushed forward, her lips hardened into a long squeaking beak, her hair dropped off, replaced by more black feathers.

Janice quickly shrank, compressing, any trace of her feminine silhouette lost as the bones shifted into a more compact structure, an avian one. She squatted as the changes progressed, lowering herself as she became smaller.

Her breasts and nipples were engulfed by the feathers on her barreling chest, then the bonding marks in her thinning neck.

With a delightful swiftness the changes conclude.

The young female seagull shook her feathers, closed her wings and scratched her armpit with her beak. She was startled when the empty bottle of scotch fell from the wall and rolled across the floor. There were no more harpies around, but atop the edge of the roof stood two more gulls.

The birds nodded in agreement to each other.

They began to flap their wings.

A pile of clothes were left behind.

An orange noon sky.

Three seagulls flew over Knoxville.

https://i.imgur.com/ZSqAulV.jpg

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