Unnatural Instinct: Transform

23.

Your transformation is not yet done but at least it's a little easier.

You shout as he rocks beneath your hips. At a shock of pain down your thighs you press your head into his shoulder and bite deep into his muscle. He snarls as you chew into his flesh.

With a gasp, you pull back at another one of his hard thrusts. His blood is trickling down your chin. Vaguely, you see the wound you've left in his shoulder but you think nothing of it. It's hard to think at all. Putting more than two thoughts together feels like the hardest thing in the world.

His mouth is against yours, tasting your mouth, tasting his own blood. He's much more 'vicious' this time, engulfing you, biting at your lips, massaging your tongue with his hard enough that it hurts.

Pulling back with a growl, you grab one of his horns and yank his head to the side so you can suck at his neck. You move along his neck, to his jaw and then to his adam's apple, which you gnaw at. You want to eat him. He tastes good. He smells good. He feels good—you thrust hard against his pelvis, then twist your hips, really enjoying the hardness of him. Everything about him is so good.

As you do that, he grabs your hips and forces your body to thrust against him. You groan, snarl and arch your neck. Your nipples rub up against him and for a few daring moments you touch yourself. Your breasts, your hips, your abdomen—even through the pain and blood and wounds, you can tell your body feels different, stronger, bigger, almost like somebody else's.

You grab at his horns with a shout as he mauls your left breast, sucking it into his mouth. With his strong hands, he pulls against your hips, making you thrust against him—though you don't need the help.

Far from it.

You start to rock faster than he can thrust. Its' coming. You're coming. You can feel it inside you, somewhere deep in a place that you can't fathom. Hot. You feel hot. The heat is rising from your hips and up your front to your nipples. He finally releases your breast with a wet lash of his tongue.

Then his face is against yours, his lips upon yours. You grip his horns tightly, needing something to hold onto as you roll your hips. He snarls against your mouth, squeezing your hips painfully as his big body jerks against yours. You feel him spasm inside you and you're so close that it propels you along like a wave. That heat rises from your nipples, into your throat, then behind your eyes in an explosion of sensation and colour and heat and ... and ...

You can't explain it.

You whimper against his lips, then open your eyes. Gasping, you sag against him, your body and mind limp with exhaustion. His hard chest rubs against your breasts as he, too, gasps for breath. Pressing your lips into his shoulder you close your eyes again, letting yourself relax, letting yourself enjoy the feel of his big hard body, the feel of your own body that's yours again.

You lift your face with a start as you suddenly realise something. The pain—it's gone!

His yellow slitted eyes gaze back at you silently. His menacing black horns stab at the sky.

He seizes your hand as you reach up to touch your own horns but lets go, obviously realising the futility of it. He stiffens and little crinkles appear around his eyes as he watches you anxiously.

Your heart pounds, then leaps in your chest as you touch yourself with trembling fingers. You touched them before but now you're really touching them, exploring them. Like his, they're hard and pointed, curving upwards in a U shape, but they're much smaller, not reaching past your forehead.

Tasting something unpleasant at the back of your throat, you give a little cough. Your heart is pounding. A cold sweat makes you shiver.

You drop your hands to your mouth to touch your canines. Tears well in your eyes. They make you feel like an animal, something savage and dangerous. You think about your unusual rage and your erotic actions tonight.

You're not human. You never were and you never will be.

It's hard to catch your breath. You clutch at your neck as your throat constricts. Then you look down at yourself, all bloodied and scraped up. There are great tears in your skin, exposing the fatty tissue beneath. They still burn but it's nothing to what you felt before. You can only imagine what's happened inside you: to your bones and muscles and joints.

And what about deep inside you?

He's still as hard as a club. You can feel it. You're panting as you struggle to catch your breath. Tears drip out of your eyes. Is there anything left of you at all?

He grips your shoulders. 'Enough. Accept yourself.'

You shake your head.

With a growl, he grabs your head and kisses you urgently on the mouth. Snapping your lips together, you shove him back. He glares back at you, his forehead furrowed, his body tense. The wound you made in his shoulder is still bleeding. In fact, he's covered in wounds. Did you do all of that? Your heart drops into your stomach.

You really are a monster.

You try to pull off him but he grabs onto your hips.

'Let go!' You clap a hand to your mouth. Your voice—it doesn't sound like yours at all. In your rage, it sounds too deep, scary.

Inhuman.

'Accept yourself!' he snaps.

'Let go!'

You thrash and writhe against him as you try to pull away, as you try to get him out of you, but he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly enough that you can hardly move. He speaks in your ear, saying desperate, comforting things that you refuse to hear. You scratch and punch at his back, scream and buck, but it does nothing. You try to grab at his balls but he stops you before you can touch him.

There's only one thing left to do—you dig your fingers deep into his wounded shoulder.