The Fruits of Her Labor
The wind whips at your face, and you pull your cloak closer. It does little to warm you for the chill feels like it bites at your very soul. Even if the innkeep was only trying to get another customer with that silly story, waiting until daybreak may have been the better idea. It's far too late to worry about that now though, and if you press on and keep to the river you should reach Breyton before three bells. Don't travel at night here, stay on the road, he said. Take the coach or many friends to go to Breyton. You grumble and try to warm your arms, the growing clouds come with blasts of cold air.
Well if you didn't have the money for his straw mattresses, you certainly weren't hiring a coach. The woods through here are thin and the river runs straight to Breyton, a coach seems unneeded. You wonder why the road doesn't follow the river and realize your thirst. Pausing, you stumble down to the river and pause for a drink. The last time you stopped to catch your breath the Moon was still rising. Now though, the clouds obfuscate all but a telling pinprick of moonlight. The water is cold and crisp and you feel refreshed for your walk.
The ground is soft by the riverbank and you lean back, giving your eyes a quick rest from the strain of traveling at night. Listening to the rushing water a few feet away, you don't notice the soft rustling of the underbrush. You do notice the pin prick on your neck however. Your head starts spinning as you roll onto your stomach and try to push yourself up off the ground, only to fall back to the soft dirt face first. The last thing you feel as you pass out is someone grabbing you by the legs and pulling.
You slip in and out of consciousness several times. The first time is after hitting your head on a rock as you are being dragged along. Laying on your back, you feel yourself jostle around and briefly see the sides of a cart enclosing you. In your hazy head you feel like a giant squeaking rat is pawing you back and forth. You regain awareness again as you land on the ground with a thump, and someone cursing loudly. Slipping away again, now you feel a warm blanket swaddling you tight enough you can't move your body.
A bright light startles you awake again, your head aches and swims but you don't feel the encroaching fog this time. You try to rub the residual tiredness from your eyes, but find your arms can't move. Furthermore, you are restrained in a vat of liquid. Instinctively you try to tread water in the vat, but unsurprisingly your legs are tightly bound together to the same surface your arms are. “Just hold still, my pet. We shall be finished here soon.” A voice from behind you calls out.
The voice ignores your pleas to be released, or to even tell you what is happening. Your heart beats faster, and you hear the rustling of thick chains being pulled. Above you gentle moonlight starts to pour in, and you crane your neck to see the ceiling pulling apart above you. The moonlight fades away as the clouds lazily float in front of the moon. Drops of water ripping through the liquid and land on your face. The voice mutters from behind you as hear something scrape heavily along the ground.
The rain comes down harder, as you watch your captor cranks a metal pole up through the opening in the roof. You hear a clap of thunder in the distance, the storm growing in intensity. The pole extending up to the darkness, you watch the person who you assume drugged and kidnapped you. The first thing you notice is that she almost glows with an unearthly pallor. The second is how tall and thin she is, though she is seems to be hardly exerting herself with her load. She has two chains over her shoulder, thicker around than her arms. With a grunt she hoists the chains over the edge of the vat, the ends quickly sink into the translucent green liquid.
Some of the contents of the vat splashes onto your face and you gag at the bitter taste. Trying fruitlessly to spit the taste out, the woman chuckles. “I wouldn't be worried about the taste for long, pet. You will have more important concerns soon enough.” In another context the woman would be attractive. You can just make some details of her figure out from behind the thick leather apron she is wearing. Tight slacks show off the curve of her hips and the ruffled blouse must plunge deep below the neckline. If she had asked you to follow her instead of drugging you, she likely would have saved herself a good deal of effort dragging you.
A flash creeps in from the far edge of the opening, followed almost immediately by a roaring clap of thunder. “It is almost time, little one! Steel yourself, this is going to be ah, an initially violent change. And it will hurt. But we all have our own price we much pay for progress!” She rushes back out of your view, still ignoring you calling out to her to let you go. “Why would I let you go, upon the promise of doing anything I desire, when the only thing I desire from you happens here and now?” she finally snaps at you.
You continue to struggle against the metal bindings as the claps of thunder approach closer and closer. There isn't even enough give in your bindings for you to splash the liquid and your captor chuckles softly as she watches you continue to squirm. The next bolt of lightning is bright enough that you wince away from it. The rain is coming down in heavy blots now, bouncing off your face and rolling into the vat with you.
The thunder still rolls in your ears when the next bolt forms. It strikes home at the lightning rod and it feels like time has slowed. You swear you can see the electricity crawl down the rod and into the vat. Blazing hot pins and needles race throughout your body, and inside of your mouth. You try to scream, but barely avoid choking on your own tongue before slumping forward. Your body convulses against your bindings.
The electrified pin poking feeling is more intense towards the bottom of the vat, save for the fire raging in your mouth. Turning first into a burning pain that feels like your legs have been slashed open before beginning to melt. Silent tears roll down your cheeks as the pain continues to your girldick and your heart beats so hard you fear it may over exert itself. The blazing gradually gives way to an intense itch.
You continue to thrash against the metal straps holding you in place. To your great surprise, you manage to slip your legs free! Your lower half starts to rise in the green liquid, residue swirling deep in the vat. Your body bends unnaturally at the restraint across your midsection and the ends of your legs gradually appear on the surface. Or rather, what your legs have become as an emerald scale covered tail bobs in front of you.
You hear another grunt and the clank of heavy chains again. This time instead of the ceiling, you are what is moving. The wood slab you are bound upon rises up from the vat before landing roughly on a stone table behind you. The woman appears before you again, looking sweaty and disheveled, but meeting you with an icy, clinical gaze. She runs a hand along the side of your new tail.
You demand to know what she has done to you as you keep struggling. “Yes! You should bask in my genius, see what I hath wrought! With a rolling noise, a cracked mirror rolls into your vision, and your blood runs cold as you see what she has done. From your stomach down your body is covered in emerald scales, and your legs truly have become a snakelike tail. The scales fade to a flesh tone as they rise to your breasts, turning to skin around your nipples. Your arms look as if you are wearing snake skin gloves.
The woman grabs you by the chin and looks you in the eyes, though it feels like she is looking through you, instead of at you. She brushes your cheeks with her fingertips. “Pity, the splash only got part of your face.” She steps back out of the way and you see now. The left side of your face is covered in the same scales, checkering to flesh by your nose and a yellow eye with a narrow slit for a pupil stares back. The right side, which was untouched was the same face you saw in the river a few scant hours ago.
You gape slack jawed at all this, and your tongue falls down your scaly cheek. The tip of your tongue has split into two pointy tips and reaches to the wooden table. Your eyes water again, this time in shock instead of pain. “It's awe inducing isn't it? How I manipulate even the human form to meet my needs?” The woman proudly exclaims, misinterpreting your tears as exultation.
Without saying anything more, she places her hands on your genitals. Slowly stroking your girldick, it feels like she is rubbing up and down at the same time. She smiles for the first time since the lightning storm as your feel yourself get hard. As distraught as you are, her hands feel so good and your tears gradually abate. You moan softly, ending the sound with a hiss and the end of your tongue flapping outside of your mouth.
She undoes latches on the side of the table and pushes the metal restraints through the off of you, allowing you movement again. Your muscles feel so tired after the day's walk and the night's transformation, you can do little more than lay on your back still as the woman brings you to full stiffness. Summoning all your strength you lift your head to see her. The woman has stripped out of her heavy work smock, her heavy breasts looming over you.
Looking down to see what amazing thing she is doing, you see her own large girlcock rub on your own. Or rather between the two halves of your own member. She sees your confusion, and uncharacteristically takes pity on you. “Reptiles have a unique configuration, so it only follows that my snakegirl would have a similar arrangement; does it not?” You nod, only understanding that it doesn't matter how you feel about this.
You can feel your right cheek flush as she continues thrusting between your genitals, while also stroking half in each hand. Pleasure ripples through your body for the first time tonight, and your head falls back to the wooden slab with a light thump. The woman's thrusting speeds up as she falls into a rhythm, with her pumping fists. She grins, and bears her unnaturally pointed teeth, her breathing getting deeper now.
You hiss-moan again, much louder this time. Your flicking tongue brushes a nipple, sending entirely new pleasure crashing inside of you. Unable to do much more, you keep playing with your breasts with the tip of your tongue. The woman on top of you gives a powerful thrust with her girlcock, and her fists push down on the bases of your split member.
Her thick seed launches out and splashes on your breasts, where your tongue licks at it. Your own orgasm crashes like a wave and your girlseed comes out thinner, dribbling down the sides of your new genitals. The woman takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, before wiping her hands off on the discarded lab apron. “Once you have regained your composure, sit up slowly.” She turns and starts to walk from the room. “And place that filthy apron down the chute, once you figure out how to move.” She leaves the room while you lay on the slab and take in all that happened tonight.