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Becoming (Gallus, part 7)

By Chickenboy

Sandy held the small vial up, examining the clear, viscous contents. She had been lucky to have been able to acquire such a thing, even luckier to have not been affected as of yet. The tales and rumors of the odd infections, especially how highly contagious it was at very slight levels had blown up across the net. The few images taken of the people who had already succumbed to the substance only added to the growing media fire beginning to break the stories involving the strange chemical. But these were all rumors Sandy could dispel from firsthand experience. She had been there when a company car had crashed, the dazed passenger stumbling out of the vehicle, his head already mostly reformed into that of a rooster. The damaged briefcase chained to his wrist hanging open, scattering the small glass vials across the street. Before she, like the other onlookers, scattered and ran, something had possessed the woman to take one of the vials, stuffing it in her purse before fleeing the scene with the last image she saw being that of the rooster man tearing his clothes to shred and relieving the throbbing member between his legs.

Now she sat there, contemplating whether or not to do what she was thinking of. For so long she had languished in the sham of a life she lived, wishing desperately to be someone or something else. Now, with the outbreak of these transformations, she had the opportunity to make that dream a reality. She didn't know how it worked or why, only that day by day more people seemed to succumb to the spreading plague of lust driven metamorphoses. And the more Sandy thought on it, the more resolved she became. With a last sigh, and throwing her hesitation aside, the popped the lid off and tilted the vial back in her mouth, letting the substance flow down her gullet.

In an instant the deed was done, and her first thought was that it had been a mistake of epic proportions, that she should seek help. But each second that ticked by only helped to calm her, feeling the warm tingling sensation as the thick fluid seeped down her throat and into her stomach. The sensation was not at all unpleasant, and she began to writhe in her seat as the feelings turned from odd to comforting to pleasurable. The warmth radiated from her gut, flowing as if water through her veins into her chest and out into her extremities. She flexed her fingers and toes, each movement making the feelings more exhilarating. Her face and head buzzed, and she couldn't help but grin broadly. But more than any place else, her lower stomach and especially her nethers were set ablaze with the odd and erotic sensations.

She unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it aside, her skirt soon following. In a deft move she tore her panties free, and then fumbled clumsily with her bra for a few moments, in the end sitting nude on the chair, breathing heavily as the pleasure only intensified. Reaching down, her fingers traced gently over her folds, noticing her mound was swollen quite heavily and her vaginal lips seemed enflamed, as if her entire sex was puffed out. But, oddly enough, the engorged areas only seemed that much more sensitive to her touch, sending spikes and shivers up her spine just from the merest brushes with her fingertips. Her other hand soon joined the first, Sandy working them in unison to derive as much ecstatic pleasure as she could. Lightly parting her labia was enough to make her cringe and moan, but as she stroked two digits on the very inside of her passage, her mind went alight like fireworks, making her eyes roll back as the hypersensitive flesh was teased and prodded. Ever so slowly she worked in her fingers, pushing them into herself millimeter by millimeter, each slight movement making her gasp in delight, each thrust enough to make her mind go momentarily blank.

Sandy sat there, so caught up in her ministrations that she failed to notice the first signs of the change. Her sex was indeed swollen, and seemed to grow more so with each jolt of pleasure. Conversely, however, her breasts seemed to be shrinking. While Sandy had never been well endowed, her bosom had definitely deflated, sitting between an A and B cup and growing ever smaller and flatter. Her chest was soon nearly as flat as if she had been born a rather scrawny male, only slight mounds around her nipples being any evidence of her once feminine chest. But those changes aside, it was her stomach that began to exhibit the most alteration. Slowly at first, but progressing at a steady pace, her lower abdomen had begun to distend. At first it was only a slight paunch, but it had ballooned out as she continued her massaging, growing larger and larger and now looking like she was going on towards being nine months pregnant. If Sandy had any notion of her altered form, she was too caught up in her task to notice the extra bulk and mass now attributed to her form.

Her blissful delirium of masturbation was suddenly interrupted as a spam, more like a massive hiccup than anything else, wracked her body. She sat there, stunned for a moment but quickly returned to her previous task, that is, until a second throat spasm hit her, followed shortly by a third. These were unlike any hiccups she had previously felt, being much more violent, stronger, almost like a gag reflex gone crazy. She fell to the floor, supporting herself on her hands and knees as another series came along, these ones more regular in interval and duration. As she convulsed with each hiccup, her backside was left sticking in the air, her dripping pussy still begging for release.

The next strong throat clench came, and it felt like she had to vomit, a strange mass sitting above her stomach seemingly trying to move up her esophagus. She tried to stand, to make it to the sink or the bathroom, but she seemed paralyzed, unable to force herself to move even a bit, and then if only to make herself more comfortable while she heaved. She momentarily choked as she coughed up a flood of clear fluid which dripped down her chin and onto the floor. Each time her throat clenched, she could feel the mass move another few inches upwards, already resting in her chest, and then thrust forward to the base of her neck. The next hiccup lodged it firmly in her throat, the bulge it produced making it appear Sandy possessed a rather sizable adam's apple. The young woman gagged as the spasms pushed it upwards, moving slower as it reached the top of her throat. Her jaw hinged open from a combination of muscle pressure and some subconscious drive to open her mouth as wide as possible. The fluids leaked out copiously now, forming a sticky puddle beneath her as she felt something brushing against her tongue and bumping on the roof of her mouth. She heaved, trying to exorcise the obstruction and let her lungs breath again. The object, since it was now apparently solid, slid wholly into her mouth, her cheeks stretching around it as her tongue felt the smooth yet textured surface. With one last effort, she opened her jaw wider than she thought possible, and the thing fell free onto the drenched carpeting.

Sandy threw herself back, landing on her rump and sending a mix of pleasure and pain through her body as her sensitive nethers landed on the floor. She gasped, drawing in breath and feeling the burning in her lungs subside as she coughed and spat more of the fluids out. Her vision was blurry, but the restored air supply quickly let her refocus, and stare down at the object that lay before her. The oval shaped object stood out starkly against the soaked, mottled carpeting. At first Sandy wasn't sure if what she saw was real, but gently picking it up, running her palm over the hard, wet surface confirmed her suspicions. She held an egg, perfectly formed, brilliant white and the size of a large potato. She looked down at it in shock, paralyzed from the mix of feelings gripping her mind in that moment. She was violently brought back to reality, however, as a new series of muscle spasms rocked her whole body, centered around her bloated abdomen. Letting the egg fall from her grasp, she yelped in both pain and pleasure as her body became overwhelmed with sensations.

She could see the muscles clenching under her skin, feeling the weight within her beginning to press downwards. As she gripped her belly, she began to notice her fingers growing and reshaping. Between contractions, she held up a hand to her face, seeing the middle, ring and pointer fingers getting longer, her thumb lengthening as well as it was pulled around and down, soon pointing from the bottom of her palm as her pinkie shriveled and was absorbed. With a series of intense pains, she felt the bone sockets in her arms, hands and wrists dislocate and watched as they seemed to reconfigure themselves to point backwards, almost as if her left and right limbs had been reversed. With another series of sudden pops, the bones reattached themselves in the altered sockets even as they continued to change. The bones in her wrists lengthened, as did the rest of her arms, but in such a way that left her upper and lower arms looking stunted, and the new extended wrist looking lithe and bony. Her hands also increased in size, soon making them look perfectly proportioned to her reshaped arms. Looking at them in bewilderment, Sandy would have sworn she was looking at feet, bird's feet to be precise. The emergence of short black talons from the tips of her digits and the first traces of scaly, yellowish gray skin soon confirmed her suspicion.

Startled, Sandy tried to stand, but fell and once again felt the surge of pleasure and pain course through her body. Trying her best to sit up, not easy as her new arms, or legs rather, were bulking up and still settling into their shapes, she peered down over her still massive belly at her feet, shocked at what she was seeing. Her human feet were changing as well, the middle toes lengthening and thickening significantly, her other digits slowly withering and being absorbed into the growing mass. Her heels vanished and her ankles reshaped, soon looking more like arms than legs, but instead of hands she had but a single long digit on the end of each limb. The bones in them likewise dislocated themselves, resetting after a moment in a new 'backwards' configuration. Seeing as how her arms were now legs, it didn't take Sandy but a moment to figure her legs had been remade into arms. Then it clicked in her head that they weren't arms, but wings, lacking any feathers and appearing as any hotwing on a plate might look.

More stretching and popping sensations began all around her neck and collar. Her shoulders, now more like hips and thighs, spread wider apart as they continued to develop muscle and fat, yet keeping the lower parts of the limbs bony and lithe. As the skin changes reached the top of her new elongated ankles, goosebumps began poking out, growing bigger and bigger until, with a shudder, soft, white feathers began to emerge, growing in layers so they would lay like any other bird's plumage. As the feathers continued to move up her arm-legs, Sandy was overwhelmed by an internal command to lie down. Stretching out onto her back, she rolled herself over, her reshaped limbs seeming to instinctually know how to respond, as the limbs that once were arms now assumed their new function, lifting Sandy's morphing body up into a squat but stable stand, the upper and lower leg folded almost against each other as the ankle gave most of the height. Her head now pointed down and back, like a short tail with a face. She tried to cry out from the feelings, but was stifled as another flood of fluid spilled from her mouth, her throat bloating around another egg that slipped easily down the slickened passage from her innards.

Free from the confining weight and position, the new wings beat at the air as they shifted, growing wider apart as her newly formed chest, formerly her stomach area, remolded itself to fit the apparent new shape her body was becoming. In moments her torso had stretched, curved and filled out, new ribs forming as her old ones dissolved, her avian breasts and pectoral muscles forming perfectly giving her that barreled appearance, and the slight downward distention of her former chest, now her current belly, giving her the chubby appearance and waddling gait inherent to poultry birds.

Sandy tried to cry out, but it only came out as a muffled gurgle as the egg passed through her rapidly thickening neck. Her teeth receded into her gums as the egg entered her mouth, making it much easier for it to slip out. Her body, instinctively knowing what to do, squatted lower as Sandy spat out the second, equally large egg right next to the first. She sobbed to herself in a mix of pain, fear, regret, but above all, pleasure as the changes continued, her voice almost fully garbled from the changes. She looked like a plucked, headless chicken with a human head for a tail and her cunny between her shoulders where a neck should be, a freak of nature if ever there was one. She wanted it to stop, if for no other reason than to let her reeling mind try to grasp what was occurring. As it was, she was having trouble focusing, her perception seemed off, her memories fading away. Everything was being pushed to the back of her mind, overwritten by the driving instincts now pulling the strings. And still, the pleasure from her feminine folds pulsed through her, driving her changes ever onwards.

As if on cue, as the thought of her exposed nether folds crossed her mind, another violent muscle contraction hit, centered on the dripping lips and the strange mass still held inside her. The pulsing of each muscle group drove her wild, as the thing inside began to push upwards. Her vaginal folds dripped copious fluids, coating Sandy's front as they flowed down her chest, mingling with the growing feathers as they too continued their progress upwards. The white plumage grew in across her back, and covered her chest in layers of soft plumage. As they likewise slowly made their way down towards her human head, Sandy felt both the physical and mental changes on a whole new level.

The flesh on her face was pulled taut as her neck reached a thickness on par with her skull. She felt new muscles pulling at every angle as flesh expanded all around her, forming a more rounded, nub-like structure poking back from the main body, her face positioned on the underside right behind the junction of her now ample legs. The feathers grew in thicker and longer on it, forming a very natural looking tail. With each beat of her heart, her face felt tighter and tighter, soon making it hard to make any kind of expression. She went cross eyed as her nose began to feel strange, and she saw it disappear from her field of view as it melted away, merging with her flat, stretched face now fully encircled by downy feathers. It was also in that instant that she felt the familiar feeling of another egg being forced out of her, beginning to near where her throat once was.

As her face began to be overcome by the changes, likewise her pussy had continued its own bizarre transformations as well. The swollen lips had begun to spread slowly, now gaping wide to reveal the wet, glistening passage within. Yet even outwardly, there were the signs of a large mass moving up the fleshy channel. The whole of her vagina and the surrounding flesh was swollen outwards, as if distended around something within trying to force its way out.

Sandy felt fear grip her as she suddenly couldn't breathe. Her nostrils had fused shut, and her mouth was now a tight, horizontal slit of puckering muscles, which she was unable to move. Her slight moans were barely audible as she fought with all her will to try and take breath. As if spurred on by the oxygen depravation, her vaginal muscles sped up, pushing harder than ever before to cram the large object the last little way out of its host body. Just as Sandy feared she may lose consciousness, a massive orgasm rocked her body, a gush of fluids in conjunction with a stretching sensation the likes of which she had never experienced before. But suddenly, the burning in her lungs was gone and she was breathing again. She felt the air moving in and out, but not from her face. If anything, it was coming from her crotch, or what used to be her human crotch.

The breathing seemed to trigger the changes to accelerate, and she subconsciously knew this was nearly the end of the ordeal. With what little control she had left, she forced the tail to angle itself down and between the legs, letting her eyes glimpse the full body mirror on the wall. Atop the stump of a neck, protruding out of her feminine slit, was a beak. A bird's beak of all things! It glistened with fluid, the sound of labored breathing emerging from its nostrils. As she stared disbelieving at the reflection, she saw the beak hinge open and shut, writhe slightly from side to side as the pushing sensations grew stronger. Each time it opened, the beak let out a series of clucks and moans, brief glimpses of its tongue visible in the mirror as well.

All reason and sanity went out the window in those last few moments of clarity. Sandy tried to fight the change, but it did no good. Clenching her eyes shut in the effort, her panic escalated even more as she discovered she couldn't force them open again. The last thing her conscious mind experienced as all thought faded was the swelling, pushing, stretching sensation as the mass behind the beak strained to emerge from her inner passage. The feathers grew in around her mouth, concealing the newly formed cloaca, covered the last bare patch of skin that was all that was left of her face, and Sandy slipped from the world forever.

Without control, the avian body thrashed wildly for a moment, bumping into furniture as the now feathered wings knocked objects left and right across the room. More of the beak continued to emerge, but that was nowhere near the end of the object held within. The red, fleshy growths on either side of the mouth were next out, followed by the gradually tapering, flat-headed form of a bird's face, another small, red growth going along the middle of its head. Its eyes were clenched shut, but it began to cluck and squak loudly as it pushed free. It paused briefly, then with one last great effort the thickest part of its head slid free and the neck slid relatively easily out of the opening. As the rest of the nape grew to its full length, the flesh of the former vaginal canal was revealed to have merged with it, and its emergence was analogous to a sock being turned inside out, leaving no trace of the former opening at all.

Still slick with fluids, the chicken's head was quickly covered in white feathers, and for all the world it appeared like a perfectly formed, five and a half foot hen was standing in the room. But its eyes remained clenched, as if in an expression of pain, feeling the last internal changes finishing, and a feeling of intense pressure building at its rear vent. Crouching down, the hen strained as her something hard pushed from inside her cloaca. The feathers around it parted, revealing the muscular opening as it dilated. A brief squirt of fluids shot out, but just as quickly a smooth white shape began to emerge. Squatting lower, the chicken could feel this one was being difficult, and after many long minutes of shifting her weight, the thickest part of the egg passed the sphincter of muscle and slid quickly out of its mother's body, landing next to its two siblings.

As the egg was expelled, the hen threw back her head and cawed loudly, as if in joyous rapture, her surprisingly human eyes bolting open as the process was completed. The eyes were green, like Sandy's had been, but the similarities essentially ended there. Standing there stunned for a moment, the bird turned to the side and began admiring herself in the mirror. She was a perfectly shaped and proportioned female chicken, as she ought to be, she reasoned. Any human like features were very subtle, such as the eyes, legs that were a bit longer and more sinewy, and the slightly more upright posture. The hen looked herself over, trying to sort out what had occurred. She had all of Sandy's intellect and could recall a great deal of her memories, but those seemed more like facts one would learn secondhand rather than having experienced them personally. She wasn't Sandy turned into a chicken, she was something entirely different. The process had not made the human transform into a bird, it had made her give birth to one.

The hen was a new being, possessing all the intellect and instinct of both her human and animal heritage. She knew full well that the human whose body had been given up in her own creation was her mother, and that the strange chemical was, in essence, her sire. It was that substance which had planted the seed, conceived her in the very matter of the woman's body. That wondrous fluid, the miracle elixir her mother had drunk had brought about the changes. But it wasn't just herself, all those other people who had been exposed were victims of the same thing. The hen could recall all the reports, rumors and pictures, and quickly figured why in her instance the results were so drastic compared to even the most extreme cases of other people.

All those other humans had been exposed to the chemical through some other medium. Air, water, the eggs and meat they ate, and, of course, contact with those people and birds already infected. The chemicals, though highly potent and transferable, were also diluted or altered in some way when the people came in contact with it. They all had relatively small and indirect doses, making their bodies reshape and reform into new forms but also making their minds become overwhelmed. These people were hybrids, driven by lust, sexual wanting and the ever present need to propagate through any means, thus spreading the infections ever further. She, on the other hand, had come from a highly concentrated and direct dose, obliterating her old self completely and letting the new creature take shape, like a phoenix from the ashes of its former life. Surely, the hen thought, she must be the epitome of what the chemical could create, the first in a wholly new species.

She felt resolved with those details in her mind, and turned away from the mirror with a look of what could only be pride in her eyes. Moving back to the small pile of eggs, she balanced on one foot while the other reached out, the clawed toes wrapping around one of the ovoids and picking it up, holding it close to let the mother hen examine it. Her toes were amazingly dexterous, no doubt another hold over from her human side, and she felt a great wave of satisfaction in knowing she had laid such wonderful looking eggs. But the labor of her birth had drained the strength from her body, and she almost begrudgingly set it back with the others, sat down, and began to peck at the shells. She cracked into one after another, eating the contents and shells alike, savoring the delicious flavor. The sustenance went a long way in relieving her hunger, and the hen was soon on her feet, making her way to the exit. Once more making use of her dexterous feet to work the knob, she flung the door open and stepped into the open air, leaving the last remnants of the human's life behind her.

Walking along, the chicken couldn't help but ponder if she was the only one who had been created this way, if more humans had taken the same dose and likewise given rise to others of her nature. She wondered if the infectious nature of the other hybrids would affect her, or if she was infectious as well. But mostly she thought about the eggs, not just about how nourishing they were, but more about how they had not been fertile. Somehow instinctively knowing they were barren had left her with no qualms in eating them, but she knew she would want to, no, need to breed, to clutch, to raise chicks. Her thoughts turned to finding a male companion, and then back to the transforming man from the car crash. She altered her course and began heading towards the part of town it had happened in, hoping to find some trace of him or any other transformee, and thinking how much a fine, virile cock would so desperately need a lovely, receptive hen.