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Frank's Journal: Sunday

The Great Depression ended twenty years ago, and this place had recovered fine. I say this place meaning the majority of our old dirty bastard of a country. Not all of it did, if you ask me. I pulled up yesterday at some backwater motel in the middle of absolutely nowhere, and it's like stepping back in time. Tell you the truth, I'm surprised they don't have breadlines still. The place is worn out, half of it's probably an active crime scene, and the second half – where the dear proprietors let me sleep, thankfully – feels like it's going to come down around me any moment. But it's not the motel that really does it. It's the people. They all have this dead-eyed stare like they've been drunk for so long that they can't function without the hooch any longer, all just to deaden the pain of, I guess, living here. Lurching and shuffling around aimlessly, too worn out to keep down a job. It's not quite hell but it sure isn't paradise either. Lower end of Purgatory I'd say, and that's being generous.

At least they got two beds so I don't need to share one with Alex here. I mean, she's pretty enough for a woman, but sadly I never swung that way. That and she snores like crazy. Never really imagined I'd be working with a broad, but I'm not complaining, she's turned out to be pretty good at this.

And we're here hunting ghosts. Yeah, you didn't know? Ghosts are real. Well, some are. Most of these cases turn out to be nothing, but we play it up anyway. Gotta make bread somehow. Not much demand for private investigators these days, so me and Alex – she used to be my secretary, back in those days, now she's more of a colleague – branched out. Read all the books there were to read about the paranormal. I know it sounds stupid, and that's 'cause it is, but we've encountered a couple. No, I'm serious, seen stuff I can't explain out here.

But most of it's bullshit. We're here to investigate this real mean old house where, they say, where a buncha college kids brought down the wrath of the devil on themselves. Their words, not mine. Locals say they managed to summon something that took 'em out. Not killed, note. Possessed them and drove them into absolute depravity is what the guy who hired me said, and then transformed them into beasts. Ran off to live in the woods somewhere after that, but the thing in the house is still active. They keep hearing noises from it, they say. We'll see about that. Brought all the equipment. Going in tomorrow. I'll keep taking notes as we go. TV in the room's broken, so I don't got much to do during the downtime, you know. Don't really feel like reading the bible either.

Time to catch some Z's.

---

The two of them woke up to the sound of someone knocking on the door of their dilapidated room. Dust billowed through the air with each knock. Alex cursed and got up, putting on some more clothes on before opening the door. She usually slept in just a tattered old shirt, but women were usually expected to dress a little better than men, and she had to keep up those appearances, at least occasionally.

“Yeah, what is it?"

“It's your wake up call, Madam, as requested. It's seven AM. If you'd like to have breakfast…"

God.

“It's alright, we'll have a bit on the road. Thank you," she forced herself to reply. Alex couldn't quite believe Frankie wanted to get up early, the old bastard. Still, no need to take it out on the messenger. Alex looked back to catch him grinning.

“Not much of an early bird still, are you?" he laughed, getting up and out of bed. “We've got an investigation to do, you know."

“Right, but even if – if­ – the place is haunted, the spooks aren't going to be there at seven in the morning," Alex countered.

“Nope. But it'll give us time to survey the place before they come out of the woodwork. Figure out what they summoned, if anything, and how to deal with it," Frankie replied, before stepping into the bathroom for his mourning routine.

Alex shook her head. At least they were earning. More money than they would've, investigating this or that unfaithful husband or wife. More than she'd ever made writing down case notes. The people who cared enough about the paranormal to hire professionals were still well off. This one that'd hired them owned a- what was it, a bar or- Alex checked her notes. A winery. Yeah, pretty well off, as it was.

Why she cared that much about some old house, Alex didn't know. Probably wanted to buy the land it was on, but was afraid of catching a bad case of worse spirits.

Frankie stepped out, freshly shaved, with only a single nick on his face for once. He was always so energized by having a case to work on. This gig, as dumb as it was, had pulled him out of a funk to say the least.

“Candles, board, crucifix," he began to list, as if he'd been thinking about what they needed to bring the whole time. “That fancy gadget. EMF-whatever. Camera…" he continued.

“You know you'll be the one packing that down. How's the bathroom?" Alex asked.

“A dump. Smells like sewage. Water's clean somehow," Frankie replied. He was terse as always when something didn't seem important to him, but he forced an apologetic grin. “It's bad, but at least it makes sure you don't spend all morning in there."

Alex sighed, went in, and Frankie sat down, looking through his suitcase. Everything they needed was here. They'd hit up a restaurant, too. The old lady who'd hired them said it was run by one of the college kids' parents, so they'd know a bit more. Then it was onto the old house to hopefully catch a ghost, or something close enough to one to earn their pay.

What Frankie did remember was that she'd said to keep it dark. The ghost, demon, or whatever it was apparently attacked shadows. Possessed people through them. With no shadows, it'd be helpless to do anything except look. Supposedly. He was still rather sceptical if there was anything there to begin with, but over the course of a dozen or so investigations, he'd at least opened up to the possibility of there being life after death. It didn't seem like a very enjoyable life, though. Still, it didn't hurt to be prepared.

---

Frankie's Journal, Monday

So yeah, we set off pretty early, but that's the best way to get things done, even if Alex doesn't like it, you know? Means I got to put up with her grumpy attitude, now. I mean, I say her, and she does have the tits for it, but she's really more like a man in spirit. Rough and ready to rumble, just as much as I am, ladylike only on demand. Really, it's kind of a shame she doesn't have a cock, because I might just go for it if she did. That's life though.

Anyway, the old lady had told us to meet her at that winery. I prefer beer myself, but hey, to each their own, yeah? I know Alex likes wine. Not that the customer's obligated to give us anything but our pay, I'd just frankly be surprised if she didn't. Not that I'm going to ask for it. Yeah, I'm just wasting time writing this while Alex drives.

Do I actually believe in ghosts and demons? Well, not really, no. I think there's always another answer. Sure I've seen things I can't explain, but I'm sure someone else could. It's not magic, it's science. I mean, say we meet a definite ghost. Who's to say it's not just a regular kind of being like you and me, but from a different world? Who knows. It's kind of like- oh, we've arrived.

---

Frankie and Alex arrived at the winery. It was rather quiet, this early. The workers hadn't arrived yet, but the proprietor – the old lady who had hired the pair – was there, as expected. She looked pale, almost like a ghost herself, with half a foot in the grave. Yet her demeanour was surprisingly full of vigour.

“Welcome. I take it you two are the paranormal investigators I sent for?" she asked, her voice time-worn and raspy, but loud and clear nonetheless.

“That's us," Frankie nodded. “So-“

“Just one moment, young man. Is that woman your partner?" she interrupted him.

“Sure am," Alex replied. “And no worse at this than any man would be."

“Fair enough, fair enough," the old lady groaned. “Just a new sight for someone as old as myself. Well…"

She went on to explain the situation. The wind almost seemed to pick up among the old oaks as she spoke. Most of the details Frankie and Alex were already quite aware of, as they'd been in the report. A bunch of college kids did some occult ritual (which the old woman pointed out she was positively aghast about) and then they'd simply disappeared. Whether they'd been killed or simply ran away, she couldn't say, but she knew the address. The old house – more like a mansion, according to her – was abandoned now, which Frankie already knew, but she added that so were all the houses surrounding it. The people were too superstitious to live next to such a horribly cursed location. Finally, she repeated that other detail – that they were to avoid bringing any light with them, so as to not cast any shadows.

“What kind of creature do you believe they summoned?" Alex asked.

“Ghost, demon, I could not rightfully tell you," she rasped. “All I know is it remains there, while the students do not. And it keeps me from selling the land."

“You own the place?" Alex continued, a look of mild surprise on her face.

“I bought the land after they disappeared. Back then nobody knew it was cursed," she intoned. “But cursed it was, and my money wasted, unless you two drive out whatever's in there."

Frankie wasn't entirely certain anyone would want to buy a rotted old mansion this long after the owners disappeared, and the rumour of the haunting would certainly persist regardless. Still, he didn't mention that, since she might have second thoughts about paying them in turn. Gotta put bread on the table, as they say.

Frankie and Alex thanked the old woman for her time before setting off. It was another long drive.

---

Frankie's journal, Monday, part two

I didn't know Frankie kept a journal. Hey, might as well write something here myself, though not much with how he's scowling at me. I made him drive, I've been at the wheel for long enough. So we're headed to that mansion now. It'll be pretty interesting to explore it in near total darkness I guess? I'll be bringing a flashlight either way. If the thing lives in the shadows like everyone seems to think, we should be fine as long as we don't actually stand in any, right? Okay, Frankie's yelling now. I'll give this back.

---

The mansion loomed ahead. There was a patch of overgrown gravel in the driveway, and Frankie parked the car on that. A quick look around confirmed there was nobody else around, though the other houses further way did seem to be in better condition.

The two went inside, through the unlocked front door. No, not unlocked – broken. The lock had been torn off the door. Someone had probably went in and stolen any valuables long ago.

“Right, this must've been a pretty nice place once upon a time," Alex quipped, looking around, and then quickly covering her face with her shirt to avoid inhaling too much of the billowing dust.

“So we'll get set up an then wait until nightfall. God knows why a shadow-demon would be more active at night. Harder to find a lot of shade without any light to begin with," Frankie sighed. “Truth be told, I don't think we'll find anything."

“Nope. But if we don't, we'll say we did and charge anyway. Not like she can confirm the ghost was never here," Alex replied. She sat down on a dusty old couch, and immediately broke into a coughing fit. “Half tempted to take this home, you know," she grinned after recovering. “Dusty, old, and still better than what I could afford."

“Tell me about it. Times are tough for everyone," Frankie replied. He leaned against a window. “Did the old lady say anything about where they did the ritual?"

“Not that I heard. But if I was the one doing it I'd do it in the basement. Or the attic. You know, so my parents wouldn't walk in and see me summoning the mean old devil himself."

Frankie shrugged. “Or a ghost."

“Or a ghost. But they think all ghosts are of the devil anyway, don't they?" she asked, standing up again after a few moments of respite. “This place seems to have a ton of rooms. Do you want to start looking now, or…"

“No real point. We're not looking for evidence of a ritual, we're looking for evidence of a demon," Frankie replied.

“Or a ghost," Alex pointed out. “Didn't you just say it was a ghost?"

“Or a ghost. I'm leaving my options open," Frankie laughed, and in doing so, inhaled enough dust to nearly cough his lungs out. The two had a weird sense of humour and camaraderie both. “Let's wait in the car. This place is a little too musty for my taste."

“As if your car's much better," Alex remarked, pointedly.

“You don't talk like that about Old Betty. Sure she's seen better days, but at least she's not dusty," Frankie chuckled.

In the end, the two waited in the car, watching the sun pass by as they ate a couple of sandwiches they'd brought, along with talking about whatever happened to come to mind. Quite a few times, Alex prodded Frankie about how useless getting up so early had been, but he shrugged it off. At least they knew where the mansion was. It'd be harder to find after dark, and the roads didn't seem safe to drive in the dead of night either.

“So, let's be serious for a moment," Alex spoke once the sun had finally set. “What if we do find a demon?"

“We take a photo of it. We light some candles, ask for its name, and tell it to leave in the name of Jesus Christ," Frankie replied, his expression flat and rather emotionless.

“And if that doesn't work?" she continued.

“If it is a demon it should work," Frankie replied. “If it's a ghost… well, we have to find out the name, either way. We'll go from there. Remember to avoid creating any shadows, just in case."

Sure, he wasn't much of a believer, but there was a certain degree of carefulness one had to have when it came to these things. Taking unnecessary risks wasn't how he'd gotten this far in life.

They approached the manor once again. It seemed more intimidating in the darkness, foreboding even, the front door yawning open like the mouth of a colossal beast. Yet, it was just a house. If there was anything evil within it, it'd be there no matter how the place looked. Neither spoke a word, now. They had their plan; they'd split up and search the place, top to bottom, and if either found anything they'd call for the other.

Frankie went for the basement and Alex for the attic. And something watched them, something scheming and sinister that lurked in the darkness. They weren't demons, nor ghosts exactly, but rather primordial spirits that'd heard the students' call. Not evil as much as primal and carnal, the natural spirits of the shadows. Yet being stuck within this place to which they'd been lured had driven them half mad with desire, to the point that they saw these new arrivals merely as hosts.

And yet, in total darkness, they were diffuse and weak. In shadows, where there was contrast between light and dark, they were powerful. They'd seen the humans with their candles and strange flashing devices, knowing fully well what they did. And so they waited for an opportunity.

Frankie walked down the creaking basement stairs. There was a fair bit of moonlight coming in through the small windows near the ceiling, and so he saw just enough – in faint outlines and blurry black shapes – that he managed to avoid walking in anything. Now, he'd need to light candles to draw any spirits to himself, and yet he had to avoid shadows, somehow, they'd said. Perhaps if he simply didn't step in any, there'd be no risk. He shook his head. Being literally afraid of shadows wasn't his style. They'd get nowhere like that.

He felt around himself. There was a chair, and to his right, a draped-over pile of what felt like tools. A work table, over on the other side. If he lit the candles on top of that, any shadows they cast should be far enough away from him.

Frankie pulled five long wax candles from his bag. The investigation bag, as he called it. Then, he placed them on the table, roughly in the shape of a star. All spirits seemed to like the number five, at least when arranged as a pentagram. He'd never really been able to explain why, not being a scholar of the subject, but from his previous experiences, he knew there was something to it. He brought out a match, keeping a close eye on his surroundings to watch for where the shadows fell, and then struck it, lighting one candle after the other, letting them bathe the basement in their warm glow.

The air, in contrast, seemed to suddenly grow colder, a biting chill that even made the world-weary Frankie shiver. This would, he realized, be another one of those cases where he found something he couldn't quite explain.

While he was careful so as to not step in any shadows, he hadn't thought about his own. The moment his shadow fell upon those cast in the room, the strongest of the spirits saw its chance. Their shadows commingled, if only briefly, and the spirit replaced Frankie's. Immediately, it set about changing him. It'd be a slow process. It'd transform the man by transforming his shadow. A shadow had to match what cast it, after all, but few knew that the reverse was true as well; a being had to match the shadow it cast.

Frankie, of course, noticed nothing, except perhaps a brief trembling in his muscles. The chill abated, and he could see nothing else down here.

While he was now convinced that there was something wrong, he couldn't- there! He spotted a small circle of chalk and, apparently, coal in one of the corners, with several lines drawn through it. If it hadn't been for why they were here to begin with, he'd have assumed it to be a child's drawing.

---

Frankie's journal, Monday, part three

They traced some kind of sigil here. It looks like a kind of triangle in a circle. Whatever it means, I have no idea. We'll have to ask around in town. Maybe ask at the restaurant, someone's bound to know At least a little bit. If not, we'll have to hit up the library. I'm not a big reader, but Alex should be able to fill in for me in that department. If I had to guess, it looks like light passing through something. The coal might be a shadow? No doubt it's associated with something evil.

---

He left the basement. There were no other traces of anything, though Frankie didn't really know what he was even looking for. He was met on the main floor by Alex, returning after a fruitless search through the attic.

“Nothing but cobwebs up there. Cobwebs, a spider the size of a small cow," she threw her hands up. “-that I had to fight, and dust, lots and lots of dust and spare furniture so old it'd have three generations of furniture babies by now if it hadn't been left to rot."

Alex always managed to make Frankie smile, despite the growing feeling of unease, and… he couldn't quite explain why, but he was beginning to feel a pleasantly thrumming arousal of sorts, like he was terribly pent up. His muscles, too, seemed to tingle. Must've spent too long in this place already.

“So, my fearless lady, while you were fighting spiders, I found this," he spoke, showing her the sketch once they were outside again in the moonlight.

“Weird. Must've been drawn by those students. Let's check a local library? Or a priest, maybe. Or…" she trailed off, deep in thought. “Did you dodge any shadows?"

Something stirred in Frankie's mind, like a memory begging to surface, yet amounting to nothing. “Yes, I didn't step into any at least. God knows how that's meant to work. I did light up some candles, though."

“So did anything happen?" she asked.

“The air got a lot colder. Nothing else, though. All we have to go on is this sigil and well… it really did get cold, you know," Frankie sighed.

“Mm. Not much, then. Well, let's be off. Back to the motel, and then to a library or bar," Alex suggested. “Or we can sleep in the car here to save some time."

While she was attracted to Frankie, she also knew he wasn't into women, a fact she'd learned after trying to get into his pants a few times in the past. A shame, really, with his muscular body and handsome face, that he'd only sleep with other men. Still, it meant they could investigate without any risk of getting distracted by the pleasures of the flesh. All the better, even if it left both of them rather frustrated at times.

“Nah, we rented a room, I'll be damned if we're not using it," Frankie replied. “There's no need to rush, the ghosts aren't going anywhere if they've stayed here for this many years."

Of course, they'd already gone somewhere, but Frankie didn't know that. All he knew was that he felt like was on top of the world! He felt almost youthful, though he accredited that to the fresh countryside air. The cities were more and more polluted, but out here, he felt like a young buck again.

To the motel they went, then, to sleep until morning. Alex's night was restful, a perfect dreamless sleep. Frankie's less so, as he found himself plagued by erotic dreams. They began, simply, with sex, only to become more and more bizarre as they night went on. Soon he was, in his mind's eye, on all fours, being fucked by some enormous brute, feeling his tits pendulous swing beneath him, even as he in turn rutted the ass of some faceless man beneath him. None of it felt unnatural or even surprising, not as long as the dream lasted. Of course he had tits and a pussy, he'd always had them. Of course he still had his cock, too. Why wouldn't he?

He woke up with a raging erection tenting the cheap motel blanket. To his irritation he found that he's stained both the sheets and the blanket especially, which now clung wetly to his firm shaft. Yeah. This countryside air, I tell you. It'll get you going, definitely, he told himself, never noticing that his muscles had grown a fair bit firmer too, nor that his nipples were both larger and more sensitive, and damp with something. After all, he had to do his best to hide the results of his shameful nocturnal passions.

What Frankie did notice was that his skin seemed a little rougher than usual, in places. Fuck. Probably fleas or, god forbid, scabies from that ghost house. And had he always been so hairy? He was almost furry in spots. Yeah, he'd definitely need to see a doctor at some point. Though it didn't seem serious enough that he'd need to hurry. He felt good after all.

Frankie's journal, Tuesday

Yeah, this place is definitely getting to me. I don't think I've been this horny in years. Maybe it's the relaxation of sleeping without any of the city noise, or maybe it's the fresh damn air out here. It'd be a little worrisome if it wasn't for that I feel great. Still, my cock's constantly hard. It's kind of a shame there aren't any handsome men around here, at least none I know swing my way.

Alex would make for a pretty good man. Shame she isn't. I think I dreamt about her as a male though. It's a little hard to tell. I also dreamt I had a pussy. I'll definitely need to find someone to fuck once we're done here.

Okay, so today we've decided to go to the library. It's kind of a boring task, but it's gotta be done. Off we go.

---

The librarian gave Frankie an incredulous look when he asked about books on the occult. They only had a couple that were more apocryphal than anything, and so he rephrased his request as old records of anything apparently paranormal happening nearby. They did have those. More accurately, they had a whole section of the library dedicated to old town records and news and the like.

It was tough going. Alex alone couldn't possibly find everything, so Frankie had to help as well. Together, they went through tome after tome of records, one more boring than the other, skimming through pages as fast as they could.

“Remember, take a pause and actually read if you see anything at all about ghosts or sigils," Frankie reminded Alex.

The books were full of records so drab that it threatened to make Frankie fall asleep. The books about the occult were more interesting, but the first one didn't yield anything. The second, though, was a book of sigils. The front page had been clearly marked by the church, declaring the book to be pure fiction, a recreational tome. They'd probably have preferred to burn it, Frankie figured. Good thing they didn't.

He flipped through a few pages, and there it was, the-

“Hey Frankie, look at this!" Alex exclaimed. “This thing here says there's a spirit haunting the town in general. Like, a guardian spirit…"

It had once been a guardian spirit. It remembered that, looking through Frankie's eyes. Before it got trapped in a singular mansion for years upon years. Now, more than anything, it was both vengeful and yearned for freedom again. Luckily, it had a perfect vessel, now. Frankie's body only needed a few more changes.

“Apparently it was named… ugh, I can't pronounce this," she sighed.

Frankie could. He was left flabbergasted when the name fluently spilled from his lips, as if it was something he'd always known.

“Wow, I didn't take you as fluent in… Latin? No, not Latin, god only knows…" Alex replied.

His eyes seemed to glaze over. “Okay, we should…" he mumbled. “…should get going with this. We have my- err, we have its name, and that should be enough to banish it."

“Hold on. It says here also that the spirit supposedly transformed the students who summoned it. Into… animals, apparently. Like a boar and a hyena, it says. Doesn't really have any proof though," Alex read, before putting the book down.

“Well, if we come across any of those, let me know," Frankie replied. Though soon he was imagining what being an animal would feel like. The rough, carnal sex in particular. Openly and shamelessly rutting each other. He realized he was growing stiff again, achingly aroused by those strange fantasies. “Guess we'd better go, yeah. We know the name and we know it's connected to the wilds somehow. Maybe we can release it."

He let Alex drive, once more.

---

Frankie's journal, Tuesday part two

God, I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm horny like a billy goat. Right now I'd probably fuck Alex if she'd let me. Maybe I'll ask her. Maybe I'll… just get it over with alone. Though I don't know what's happening, it's like my cock's getting bigger too, somehow. I need to fucking rut, that's what's happening. Like an orgy. Maybe we'll convince the people in town to do it with us.

I need some cock in me.

That, and my feet are getting really sensitive. I mean, I've always liked having them touched, but this is ridiculous. Just walking around is getting hard with how hard it gets me. Just fantasizing about having someone rub their cock into them is a little… hard not to think about. We really need to wrap this up before I lose control entirely.

---

By the time they arrived at the mansion again, Frankie could barely sit still. He'd soaked his underwear with what he could only assume was precum. Quickly, as he got out of the car, he excused himself, saying he needed to take a moment to relieve himself behind the building, anything to get away from Alex and take care of his needs.

But the instant he was out of sight, he collapsed, his knees finally giving in. Groaning, he fumbled to undo his pants, pulling his rock-hard cock out and starting to stroke it with feverish, frantic desire. And that moment of surrender was what the spirit possessing him needed to slip from his shadow and into his body, beginning to work its changes.

Frankie yelped with pain as sharp claws suddenly burst from his fingertips and toes, forcing his human nails out. It felt warm, with stinging agony, but he couldn't see anything in the dark. A tingling spread all across his skin, feeling like pleasure in some parts and burning pain in others, as scales and fur swept across his body, growing in like weeds in spring. There was nothing he could do but writhe on the ground, half-choked groans of pain resonating from deep in his lungs. And yet, he kept stroking is cock, even as his hands grew rougher and rougher. It was only peripherally that he realized they were soon covered by grey scales, but it felt fantastic against his turgid manhood.

His thoughts began to shift, as well, as his body did. They morphed, with each shivering, throbbing stroke of his cock, towards much lustier, meaner, dominant fantasies. Of how he'd share this blessing with Alex, and have her embrace it as well. Of subversion of the natural order, he'd grow a pussy and make her grow a cock, and then they'd just rut like beasts. As the spirit possessing him would do it.

It was with that thought that the tingling between his legs, just under his balls began to grow more intense, an almost- no, definitely- painful sensation, of his skin stretching and plumping up even as fur grew around it, of his body yawning, fleshily and wetly gaping open with pure need, a hungry cavity forming within him, demanding to be filled. The newly-formed slit pushed outwards ever so slightly, forming a puffy labia, soaking with the lust drooling out of it, and it twitched with desire, clenching with wanton abandon around a cock that only existed in Frankie's mind for now.

He reached for that soaked slit with his other hand, leaving his face resting against the damp, fresh grass, and the sensation made his mind reel. His finger sunk into that silken, clutching tunnel, and it felt, at first, incredibly wrong. And then, incredibly right, being able to penetrate himself like that. He pushed the finger deeper, feeling his body transform around it.

As he rocked himself back and forth, thrusting into his hand, his chest began to feel strange as well. Each time the grass and dirt brushed over his shirt, he shivered. It felt far better than it had any right to, almost as if…

Frankie rolled over, realizing that he could see in the dark. Each shadow appeared far lighter now, in a kind of moonlight haze, rather than nearly pitch black as it had before. And what he saw made him moan out. He was becoming so beautiful, dark crimson fur covering most of his body, and what it didn't was instead covered in ashen scales. And on his chest – his heart soared with lust – was a growing pair of wonderful breasts. Immediately, his finger left his developing pussy to knead them, pulling his shirt off. Everything felt so very good. A wetness beyond just his lusty nectar was soaking into his hand, and he tasted it. Milk. Yes, perfect. He'd be both a mother and father. Breeding and being bred in turn. Yes.

The most painful part was yet to come, though. Just as he thought he was approaching his climax, his cock throbbed heavily, suddenly almost rubbery in his hand, his fingers sinking into and through the swelling flesh.

He let go, immediately, watching with rapt attention as his cock divided, blackening, twin swelling that he recognized as knots – like dogs had – at the base. It was overwhelming, overpowering, feeling twice the sensations. Frankie wrapped his hand around the pair again and pumped eagerly, before something new came to his mind.

He'd have to show Alex. Right now. Before he had a chance to do so, he fell over again, a dull ache shooting down his spine and erupting just above his ass as a tail rapidly began to form, extending to an incredible length, yet immediately under his control. A quick and pained glance backwards revealed a shark's tail, matching the scales on his body but in stark contrast to the fur.

Yet, there was one more change. His face stretched, accompanied by the searing sting of his sinuses tearing only to immediately heal. A pronounced black nose formed at the end. He almost choked as his tongue, too, began to swell, hardening in his mouth, shaping into something like a… yes. He could taste the precum that began to flood his mouth as a slit formed around the swelling tip of his tongue. His form was completely unnatural, a source of the long-imprisoned spirit having forgotten natural forms in its madness, equal parts wolf and shark, equal parts male and female, and far more carnal and sexualized, as evidenced by his new tongue. Yet it didn't feel wrong. No, it was a perfect shape, combining so many desirable attributes in order to pursue the ultimate goal of a beast's life: mating.

His cock-tongue was rigid with desire. What that meant was he'd have to seduce Alex without too many words, barely able to speak a few sentences. He could feel that power surging through him, now. Not his power, really, but that of the spirit within him. It was eager to share, and share it would.

It was easy, really. He got up, on shaking legs – his cocks throbbing with each step he took because of how sensitive his feet had gotten – and made his way into the dusty old manor with a newfound purpose.

He found Alex quickly enough, in the basement, and before she had time to turn around, he grabbed her by the waist. Immediately, she knew something was wrong.

“W-what the hell are you doing?" she shouted, trying to wriggle free, but by now, Frankie's arms were strong as steel. He began to purposefully strip her of her clothing. First her pants, baring that shapely butt. It could do with some improvements, he knew. His claws dug into the supple flesh.

“Let me go, what the fuck is- nngh," she protested, only for her throat to choke up with a groan as the transformative power possessing Frankie swept over her and began to

“Mhm. You'll like it soon enough," Frankie growled, struggling to shape the words as they were meant to sound with his stiff tongue, which drooled precum over Alex's shoulder. “Let me work some changes…"

Alex was panicking. Her entire body felt like it was tingling, or maybe vibrating. As if she couldn't quite focus on struggling free. She felt Frankie's cock – no, two cocks – pressing against her bare ass, almost searing hot, along with two sizable, warm breasts resting against her shoulders. What was happening? The only thing her mind could conjure was the idea that Frankie had been possessed, which was ridiculous, but the thing behind her, that evidently was going to rape her, barely seemed human at all, despite having Frankie's voice.

It had to be that. The spirit did exist, and it'd somehow gotten into him, and transformed him. And it'd do that to her, too.

One of those hands, now covered in grey scales, came to knead on her breasts, one after the other, and she could immediately feel them shrinking. Alex whimpered pitifully. She was only being transformed, not possessed in the way Frankie was, and so the transformation felt unnatural, wrong somehow. For him, it was a form the spirit preferred, and so, what he preferred.

She felt one of Frankie's thick shafts prod at her defenceless ass. Yet, she couldn't even clench to stop that violation; her body was, instead, relaxing, almost as if it wanted this. She knew it was bad, that she was being taken against her will, but nonetheless her pucker relaxed, feeling as if it was yawning open. Frankie took the opportunity as that tapered – like an animal's – cockhead pushed into her, making her groan with fear and terror, and Frankie in turn with arousal. It felt like a baseball bat with how thick it was, now, only much warmer, pulsating with raw, masculine power. Power that gushed into Alex's trembling body with each pulse of warm, slimy precum.

“That's it, we'll make a handsome man out of you. You were always meant to be one, anyway, just lacking a cock," Frankie grunted, as he began to piston his cock into Alex's ass.

It wasn't without good feelings, too. Yet, it felt so very alien, feeling her breasts slowly sink back and meld into almost normal, masculine pectorals. Her shoulder joints popped out of their sockets as her frame grew more typically manly, with broader shoulders, and similarly, a horrid shrinking, squeezing sensation around her hips made her wince with pain as the transformative power narrowed them. That in turn left her much tighter around Frankie's cock, which he seemed to find pleasant from how he was growling and grunting.

She realized she'd probably have to relearn to even walk. Or would have, if it hadn't been for the magic at work. Each time she changed, no matter how it felt while happening, ended up feeling as if she'd never been any different.

The strangest sensation of all was between her legs. An incredible pressure that made her squirm and thrash, and it just kept growing, like her clit was thickening and swelling much, much longer.

“That's it. Let's see your cock. Let it happen," Frankie huffed. “You'll see why we men are so eager to fuck, soon."

She couldn't stop it. Neither the slow growth and transformation of her clit into an eagerly throbbing cock, nor what felt like her slit itself turning inside out into a pair of heavy balls, ones that immediately felt overly full and needing to be emptied. If it hadn't been for the pleasure of it all, she might've cried with frustration at her own helplessness and the way her body was changing into something she didn't want. But all that came out was a whimpering moan.

“Just relax and enjoy it. You'll love having a big sexy cock," Frankie purred. His fingers wrapped around his increasingly masculine friend's new shaft, giving it a teasing pump, smirking cruelly as he felt it throb in his palm. “See, already so eager. All twitchy and leaking…" he continued, rubbing his thumb over the glans and enjoying the way the lightest touch seemed to make Alex convulse with new pleasures that she – no, he at this point – didn't quite know how to handle.

And the scales! The scales were turning out beautiful, a verdant green coat that he probably hadn't even noticed, as distracted as he was with his changing sex. He'd be a dragon. Frankie knew that somehow, and didn't question why. A big, horny, muscular, gay dragon, just the thing that his own changed body needed. In several ways.

He felt Frankie's cock throb inside his wanting ass. Heavily. His own cock was throbbing too, both of them getting ready to spurt out their seed. Alex bit his lip in anticipation. It felt entirely different from the former female orgasms, even as it approached. Stronger but more concentrated, focused entirely on his new cock, like an exquisite pressure that had to be relieved. And knowing that Frankie was about to do the same behind him only turned him on more.

Alex never had the opportunity to cum, though. Frankie seemed to want to save the dragon's orgasm for something else, as his fingers suddenly squeezed the very base of Alex's cock as he hilted himself inside the dragon. He said something, but at this point that unnatural tongue was so hard that all that came out was a muffled, guttural growl.

Alex felt him throb, heavily and repeatedly. There was the faintest hint of wet heat erupting somewhere deep inside him. He didn't feel as much of it as he would've in his past, female life, but knowing that Frankie was seeding him was an intoxicating sensation nonetheless. His body seemed to drink of it eagerly, absorbing every drop of seed, and finishing his changes as a scaly tail grew from his back and his face stretched out into a muzzle. A muzzle that Frankie immediately locked into a kiss, drooling cum into his mouth. He swallowed without questioning it.

Now fully transformed, Alex was, beyond anything else, painfully aware of how erect his new cock was. It was strange, feeling not entirely unlike the clit he'd had, but coupled with an overwhelming desire to penetrate, to feel that new member sink into someone warm and eager.

Frankie pulled out, admiring the mess he'd left inside his new playmate. Some of it dribbled out along his muscular new legs. After the briefest pause, the shark-wolf circled the dragon, standing in front of him before laying down. Frankie spread his legs in front of the dragon, and he couldn't stop staring at that alluring pink slit revealed when he cupped his balls to push them out of the way. The scent, the sight, it was all but calling for him. And specifically, for his cock.

“Yeah, you got the idea. Fuck me," Frankie growled. At least his tongue was loose enough to speak, again. “Let that beautiful new cock do the thinking," he added, and splayed his new pussy open, showing off the insides to the increasingly horny, newly-minted drake.

Alex couldn't resist. Not the erotic sight unfolding in front of him, nor the musky scent of his new lover. The urges were too strong. He gave a low, pleased growl as he knelt between Frankie's legs, guiding his massive draconic shaft under the hermaphrodite's balls and nudging it against those swollen, drenched folds beneath. Frankie wrapped his legs around the dragon's waist in turn, pulling him in almost aggressively.

“Do it. Fuck me. I need your cock," he snarled, and Alex obeyed.

With a buck of the dragon's scaly hips, he sunk that ridged shaft into his new playmate. Alex had always wanted to do this. It wasn't quite the way he'd had in mind in days gone by, but it was better. Feeling that silken wetness clutch tightly around his newly grown and still sensitive cock was exquisite. And knowing that Frankie was being pleasured was equally amazing. There was no denying it, not with how he was groaning and moaning with each firm thrust.

They mated like animals, with no care about who or what might be listening, hearing that wet slapping of their thrusts, the shivering moans given by both as they rutted. Alex was already so pent up, the slap of his cum-filled and hefty balls against Frankie's groin such a new and strange feeling that it only excited him further. The sheer pressure was almost painful, and had to be released.

And release he did. Alex wasn't familiar enough with the male orgasm to even realize it was about to come. It just felt better and better until suddenly, he instinctively thrust as deep as he could into Frankie's body, and it felt beyond good. He felt his cock throbbing, pleasure surging through it, a clenching in his taint similar to how his former pussy had moved upon orgasm – and then, blissful relief. He ground his hips against Frankie as the very first rich load of seed pumped up his shaft and into Frankie's body. There seemed to be so much of it, the both of them shivering with ecstasy as Alex spilled his seed, filling his hermaphrodite companion to the very brim.

Their investigation, of course, ended there. They couldn't exactly return to the old lady and report on this, not when they looked like unnatural ghosts themselves. But they wallowed in that new state of oversexualized bliss, taking turns fucking each other throughout the night and resting in the manor the first day. There were, after all, far more interesting things to investigate, such as their new bodies. In very fine detail.