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The Depths of Depravity…

Part One

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Growly

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Of course, Kate had not been caught. She was far too careful for that. She wore a wig that time, her natural blonde hair hidden underneath, though she rather liked being a red head too. It was good to take on a new guise every time she sought to take down another family, even though everyone lived, kind of. Well, she let them live out a fulfilling kind of life in her laboratory, at least, and, in her eyes, that should have been more than enough for them.

That time, she'd even dyed her eyebrows and applied her makeup differently to make the features of her face look softer and rounder, almost friendlier. It had made her laugh that morning when she'd looked in the mirror to see someone that looked like they should have been serving coffee, perhaps, with a smile on their rounder, plumper face looking back at her. It was the face of someone who was born to interact with people, a dimple formed at the corner of her lips, freckles, very carefully, added to her face with the assistance of makeup.

But she had no intention at all of getting caught and, as always, it was her routine that ensured that everything went off without a hitch, every single time. The more she changed up her appearance, changed her routes, hired cars, swapped her mode of transport – it all contributed to the picture of the mastermind she had become. Though Kate liked to think that the layers of her had been peeled back solely, bit by bit, to reveal that very mastermind that had been there all along.

She had been watching this particular family for quite some times, living in the rural commuting zone of a large city, though it was quite a stretch to get to the heart of the city from there, even if it was feasible. The father, Matt, commuted to work in the city every day, working long hours and quite often not coming home until after dinner time, though she had overheard his wife, Stacey, saying that there was no need for him to work so much anymore.

They had been so sweet, sitting together, their heads bowed in together as if there was no one else left in the world except them, her long, blonde hair swept back from her shoulders. He had held her hand, a larger hand than hers, a hand that made Stacey's look petite and delicate, though Kate had seen that, really, there was a steely sense within Stacey, a power that had allowed her to raise three children while her husband worked so much. Stacey, that night, in the glow of the side lamp in the living room, had told Matt that there was no need for him to work so much now that the kids had gone off to study at college. However, his insistence on funding their studies as fully as he could, even providing a good amount for them to get started with, had been what had led him to work so long and so hard.

Kate smiled. Poor soul… He could have spent so much more time with his children and he didn't even know it. He had missed out on so many milestones of them growing up, even if they truly knew his love for them, she was sure from the conversations she'd listened in on over the phone, and all for nothing. Because she was going to make sure that none of the adult children finished their college educations, such silly things. If she could have told them years ago that it was all a waste of money perhaps Kate would have done so.

Or perhaps not. Just to make the torturous rip of them from one reality into another of abuse and claiming all the sweeter for her to devour.

She'd chosen her time perfectly, though the house was set aside from others, allowing her to play out her sick, twisted fantasies without anyone seeing, quite easily, in fact. That was one good thing, at least, not worrying about prying eyes, though her car was parked nearby that time, all to ensure that she could get them into the cages and tanks and away as soon as possible. Usually, she would park further away, though smuggling her charges, all five of them, under her coat most likely was not going to be as easy that time around.

That weekend, planned for a long time, was a strategic one. Namely, she'd ensured that the children would be home for the weekend: Oliver and Hudson and Piper, the only daughter. Whereas Stacey's long, blonde hair had been passed onto her daughter, Piper, and a sure sense of resoluteness about her, the sons were the spitting image of their father with black hair and sharp noses. Their lips were strong and full, as if they were determined, all the time, and their jaw lines could surely have promised so very much to a life partner. That was, of course, if Kate had ever allowed them to move forward in life to get that.

With them in her control, choosing the targets that would hurt the father the most, the main target of her cruelty and abuse, they'd never get to have the life that they imagined for themselves. There would be partners, yes, and life partners too, but not of the kind that any of them had thought that they would have as Kate picked and chose who went where and who fit best with another. Family bonds, in her opinion, could only be strengthened by being broken.

In her twisted world, with no one to stop her, even a fragmented lie could become a truth.

The trees rose silently in the darkness at the edge of their property, watching the young adults file in, in their first and second years, respectively, of college. If they had not come to the sanctuary a few months back, Kate might have never picked them out, but it had been the soft brown pools that the husband had for eyes and the way his wife leaned into him when looking into the mountain lion enclosure that had caught her. When a bond like that, softness clad in towering strength, was laid bare right there before her, she could not help but desire to break it.

And she would. Just a wholesome, happy family that could be cut down to nothing but another set of pawns in her screwed-up laboratory and sanctuary of transformed monstrosities. They wouldn't know how good they had it until every moment was ripped from them.

When darkness fell completely and they were all sitting around the table in the dining room, large and oversized even for the size of their family, really, Kate made her move. The lights had been set to a tasteful glow, enough for them to see to eat comfortably but allowing the shadows to lurk in the corners of the room, light reflecting off the window. It masked Kate as she slipped the muzzle of her tranquiliser gun through a tiny gap in the window – a window that she had opened a short while ago when they had been bustling back and forth, carrying in steaming servings trays of food from the kitchen.

“Ow!"

Matt grunted as something sharp stabbed into his neck, thinking, for a moment, that it was just one of those weird, biting twinges that came, often without warning, from time to time. Like a muscle spasm, or something like that – but it was far, far from that. But what it was could not have been anticipated by someone who had never been broken down and abused by Kate, for he was just another unfortunate victim in a line of unfortunate victims, every last one of them screaming in animal voices for help that would not come.

“What's wrong, dear?"

Stacey leaned forward in concern, though that only opened up her neck for a dart to sink right into it. She yelped as she pulled back, but there was no time for anyone to react as similar darts shot into Piper, Oliver and Hudson, every one of them grunting in pain, rubbing their skin. Hudson bit back a swear before his father as he yanked the dart from his shoulder, but it was already too late.

It was Matt who saw it happened, horror winding through him as his family fell forward, some falling to the floor. It happened all at once, so much so that he could barely keep up with what was happening. It was as if his body, suddenly, was no longer his own, a puppet well and truly controlled by the strings that someone else had wound around their fingers. He gaped and groaned like a fish out of water, eyes wide and bulging, but that did not stop his skin from rippling and pulsing anxiously, as if something truly horrific was trying to strain out of his body through his flesh. He gargled, clutching at his throat, crashing down onto the dining table with the white tablecloth edged in gold, the sound of the TV still on in the adjacent living room warbling in the background.

“In other news, there has been a rise in cases of flu as we head into winter, as expected, but people are advised to…"

He tuned it out, sound falling away as he clutched at his throat, though it was harder and harder for Matt to move, as if he couldn't quite reach his throat anymore. Strange, indeed, as his hands had been able to get up there with no trouble at all only a short time ago. Yet the TV and the news itself did not contain any news that he was interested in, not when the horror of his life being turned upside down was in progress, spilling out around him like a car crash that he was intricately a part of and yet in no way able to stop.

He couldn't breathe, not as his arms and legs shrank and shrank, pulling in closer and closer to his body as if he had no use for them anymore. Matt tried to scream, but even his voice had been ripped from him, leaving his mouth gaping open uselessly, helplessly, eyes wide and bulging. Yet the bulge rose as if that was to be the state of his eyeballs from them on, protruding a little more obviously from the sides of his face as his nose pressed forward. His skin itched as something scale-like roughed up along his body, though his wiggling, shrinking fingers were nowhere near enough to brush away the new, awkward, rough texture of his body away.

Matt heaved, though his lungs were still there, something inside him aching as his windpipe lengthened. He didn't know how he knew it was that, only that every wheeze got a little easier as he squirmed about on the table, wrecking the dinner that his lovely, lovely wife had put together. His heart wrenched for her, but he could barely see what was happening as her gargle cut through the air.

Nothing… There was nothing he could do, not as his body writhed out of his control, his legs slender and floppy, weak and useless, the smart clothes that he had put on for the special dinner looser and looser with every passing moment. It was hard to keep up with everything, when he was trying to watch his family, but a part of him told him that he had to, that he had to hold onto the moment, had to root himself in it. Matt did not honestly think that he could reverse anything that had happened so far, but there was still a tiny, stubborn part of him that thought that maybe, just maybe, he could do something to stop things from going any further than they had.

If not for him, then for the rest of his family.

“Agh! Nooooooo!"

He wailed, but he wanted to be strong – how could he be strong when so much was out of his control? He chanced that he saw someone on the other side of the window, a ghostly, searing form, and locked onto them, his lips heavy and thick, though they seemed…clumsy.

“Unnngghhhhh… Helllllllllll-puh…puh… Noooooo… Puh-leasth…leasth…"

No words, not as they gargled, lips moving, eyes wide and wild. His body sucked in, legs weaker and weaker, as if he could not even keep himself together anymore, though that was a fragile thought to have at a moment like that.

Yet Matt did not need legs in the form that he was transforming into, even if he was trying, still, to scrabble for his family. In the pile of his clothes billowing and shifting around him, he tried to squeal, yet not even that sound came out. What, was he mute? No… No, he could not be mute, no, but his thoughts were still there, a human brain bouncing off the inside of his skull even as it crunched down and down and down.

His family, however, were not spared the torture either. They seemed to progress through strange transformations, as if he was watching a horror show play out before his eyes, far more quickly than him. If Matt had been more present in his own mind, he would have wondered why his transformation had been so dragged out. He was not to know that Kate had put something very special in the serum, all to ensure that he got to see the depravity of his family.

The figure in the window disappeared, Matt's mouth opening and closing, gaping as he thought to beg them, to plead with them, to try anything at all that he could think of to make it all stop. All for him…for his wife…for his family…

Yet no mercy was due to come as he tried to beg, hissing and grunting, words lost to him.

His wife lunged for him, though her clothes seemed too loose, her eyes bulging, shrinking in rapidly in on herself. It could have been some grotesque magic trick, but he was home in his house and they were not, by any means, at a magic show, oh no. The magic there, whatever it was, was real and there was no going back for it as he poked his head out from a fold of cloth that threatened to cover his eyes.

He had to see, he had to see her. He had to keep his eyes on her, at all times, for that was the only thing left that Matt could do for his wife.

And yet, unlike was the case for him, she fell out of her clothes as she grew smaller, a near-naked human being on the table, though it was grotesque how she shrank, her limbs growing more and more spindly, almost insect-like in their presentation. It didn't make sense, none of it made sense, and Matt wished so very much that he could do something, anything, even to comfort his wife as she transformed horrifically before his eyes.

Piper had once had to study a text for her English Literature course that had creeped him out when he had read it, picking it up out of pure curiosity on a late Sunday evening when, for once, he had nothing to do. Nothing better, at least, than to delve into a book where a man became a cockroach in his sleep, in metamorphosis. He had not been able to finish it and had only read what he had from a strange manner of being transfixed horrifically that someone had actually been able to put something like that on paper. In the morning, Piper had laughed at him, always the studious, well-read type with her hair pulled back in a smart, tight ponytail, telling him that it was to do with an allegory thing. Frankly, Matt didn't know about that, but he wasn't studious like her, more of an expert in his area of banking and investing, no more than that. That, however, had never interested Piper.

Yet it meant that he got to see and understand the true monstrosity of what his sweet Stacey, so quiet and thoughtful, was transforming into – and it was her worst nightmare. It was as if everything happening to them, even then, had been designed in a horrific way to cause them the most pain and disgust, for his wife could never abide cockroaches. Disgusting things, living in filth, unless they were out in the wilds or rainforests, for he had seen some in exhibits before and, well, those could be a little more interesting.

Stacey had never been able to enter any places with cockroaches in them at the wildlife parks and exhibits, not if there was a threat that there were cockroaches there. Other bugs weren't so much of an issue but she still had a very great aversion to them that could not be denied in any way.

She squealed and screeched, a tinny, vibrating sort of sound, as her body crumpled in, a hard exoskeleton, at least, that was what Matt thought it was called, forming over her. A hard, cockroach-like shell rose over her back and her legs grew spindly and black, her face rippling and pulsating as all human features were lost from it. She didn't need those, not as a bug, not as they very thing that she had feared so much.

Despite his horror, he could see the fear in her face as it was wiped away, something more bug-like and alien closing over her face, lips parting into strange, little biting jaws, though it was hard to see the detail as her body shrank down and down and down, much smaller than he was. He didn't even know how big he was at that time, maybe the size of a medium dog and still shrinking on the table. Yet whatever was happening to him could not be worse than what Stacey was going through.

He couldn't look, not as her eyes grew beady and black, his thrashing movements making it hard to see the detail on her, the finer things coming into light as new legs erupted from her body, the bug's body. Instead, he watched Oliver, who had toppled off the table and seemed more progressed in his metamorphosis.

That didn't make it any better as desperate, human eyes strained to see him, his son not finding him up on the table. Matt wondered what he looked like, so transformed that Oliver could not even recognise him, though Oliver pawed at his face, fingers shrinking. He looked like some kind of dog, fur prickling to life all over his body. His face crunched as it settled into a strange, muzzle-like shape, his nose flattening and darkening at the tip, somehow appearing wet, even then.

It's okay, Olly, he tried to say, though no sound came from his lips, not even a gargle. It's going to be okay.

_ _

But he didn't know that, not after watching his wife change, so much going on at once that it felt like his mind was being pulled first one way and then the other, striving and fighting against a rising tide just to keep up with everything. Oliver's clothes fell from him as his half-transformed body rose from the mess of it, though nudity really seemed the least of it by that time. It just wasn't important, not as he howled and let out a strangled whine, eyes retaining human intelligence but fading to a mutt's dark irises.

He tried to thrash but had to be careful not to bury himself in his clothes again, Matt's breath shuddering, hoping that he didn't get that tightness around his lungs again. His eyes flicked to his wife, the cockroach no longer with a scrap of human skin on her, though her antennae had sprouted and waved wildly. It was as if she was trying to get his attention and yet Matt could not do anything for her, not even reach out for her. He could not even be sure whether he had hands or not at that point, losing the feel of the muscles that had been in him. Staring at the others and trying to understand, however futile it all was, what was going on made even the rippling, pulling, grinding sensations of her own body being forced to change against its will harder to bear.

But he had to, for his family, eyes sliding to Hudson, who…didn't look all that surprising. There was a sense and a shock of familiarity in the shape and the face of his son, the narrow snout and the prickling of scale-like skin layering down his body. Hudson, with his dark hair, so much like his father, appeared to have forced his way out of his clothes bar his underwear in fear, his arms sucking in to his body with a strangely wet pop. Matt would have shuddered if he at all felt in control enough of his body to do so.

His boys, his beautiful boys… Sure, they were far from actual children, at their age, but he could only remember the care for them, the love for them that he held in his heart. His eyes didn't know where to land as they danced between his wife, Oliver and Hudson. He almost didn't dare look at Piper, though…perhaps he should have.

Hudson clicked his jaws together, opening and closing a slender mouth, body whipping and wriggling as he rolled over and over on the floor with a rough, hard smack. Yet the sounds of his thrashing swiftly reduced as the transformation truly took hold, his genitalia sucking into his body, though that was not where Matt's attention lay. No, he was looking at how Hudson's legs fused together, useless and wriggling, toes melting away, until it looked like there was nothing left of his body at all.

Was that…what was happening to him too? He almost didn't want to think about it, trembling, the world suddenly feeling so much larger around him than it had been. He couldn't do it, no, there was too much there, too much that he had to take on. And he wasn't strong enough either, no, not by a long shot, watching Hudson's body wriggling, how it sleeked down, as if he was becoming lithe. Matt could have put his hands around Hudson's body if he'd still had hands, but the transformation pulled at something in him.

His eyes flicked to Oliver, looking more and more dog-like by the moment, staggering and pawing at his face as if he thought that he could wipe the transformation right off himself. The dark eyes of the coyote – that muzzle and cunning face was obvious – shone with fear and his ears pulled up into sharp points on top of his head, though his son did not seem able to move them or control them at that point. They twitched a little, but it was clearly of their own accord, wiggling as the coyote's spine lengthened, bones cricking and cracking lightly as they settled into a quadruped set-up.

It looked like Oliver's arms had shortened, but what was most noticeable about that part of his son's transformation was that his fingers shortened, becoming paws, set as if he was walking, strangely, on the heel of his hands. But that was not right either as he grunted, the bones in his forelegs shifting, bending the opposite direction, but it only looked to be that way because Matt hadn't been able to keep up with the transformation.

His eyes grazed Piper – but he could not linger there, the burst of rough fur and her frantically scraping and scrabbling body as she fell off her chair too much for even him to bear.

Not his girl, not his sweet girl.

Hudson squirmed, a tongue pulling over his lips, like a snake as he wormed across the floor, his father's eyes on him. Still, it took too long for comprehension to dawn, even with the thrum of “knowing" in Matt, looking at Hudson and seeing just another of his own kind there, as if they were one and the same.

Matt gaped, his body so small, not able to move his legs, the floppy noodles of them feeling trapped, as if they were pressed together. He stared at his son, the snake-like thing worming away across the floor, missing a squirm and a slide from time to time as if they were not in control of their own body. However, it took a moment for his mind to catch up with what he was seeing, that the creature before him, even if not a snake, was his son and…his body was not all that far different from the legless thing as it squirmed across the hardwood floor.

Finally, he realised what was happening to him, if only in part. Smaller, that was it, he was getting smaller, so much smaller, his legs stuck together and wiggling back and forth, the disconcerting rattle and grate of bones fusing into something that was more like a tail than anything else grinding through him. He gasped, lungs fluttering, though his lips were larger and longer, extending further back as his smaller jaw pushed out. He shoved his nose from the arm of what had been his shirt, the buttons still neatly done up on it, as he fought his way back into the light, his arms swallowed up by his body without even any stubs of shoulders left.

No arms!

No legs!

Fear gripped him and he thrashed wildly, though Matt was not to know that other parts of him had sucked in too, parts that had bene between his legs, changing his sex as his organs shifted inside him. Everything, after all, had to make way, one way or the other, for a new form.

His body was long, so long, and sinuous too, winding back and forth, muscles seeming to ring his spine, as if that was now the centre of him. He felt like he was just one big limb, with nothing else left to him as he whipped back and forth. The tip of… Was it a tail? That was how he had to think about it, yes, a tail, he had a tail, was kind of like one big tail.

The scale-like skin that had itched into existence rippled into a pattern as he curled around, shocked by how much he could move, a strange sense of flexibility pulling through him. He could look back at himself, take in his body more clearly, but Matt would have reeled from it, amongst the plates and the steaming turkey that, still, had not been carved, food that would never be eaten for their home celebration.

Matt reached for the name of the creature that he saw, the distinctive, brown and tan, patterning layering down a long, snake-like body. Yet it was not a snake's body, not truly.

Glass lizard.

_ _

He must have recalled that from one of his children's' books, the image of a glass lizard, snake-like and with that light, neutral-like patterning running down its body, popping into his mind, seeing the picture clearly. Too clearly, in fact, for the horror of the moment as he gaped with a little mouth with some teeth, but not the kind of teeth he was used to. As he opened and closed his mouth, he shuddered in the revelation that it was the kind of mouth with a tongue that was better used to push down something to his throat, to gulp it all down pretty much whole so that his digestive tract could do the rest of the work.

Bugs, perhaps, or worse. He didn't want to think about it, not as his jaws ached, settling those new teeth into place, hidden by his thick lips, feeling long and strange, though they came along with his jaw as he opened and closed his mouth more easily than he could have expected. Matt shuddered, trying to wiggle a slenderer tongue that wanted to whip from one side of his mouth to the other, as if it was used for something more. Yet he didn't know as much about lizards, let alone glass lizards, except from the books of his animal-mad daughter. In hindsight, some sick part of him wished that he had spent more time with her looking at those books, reading, going to the zoo and so on – but it still would not have made the torture of his transformation any better.

He felt a sense of coolness flow over him, sliding down the full length of his body as his tail twitched back and forth, finding the muscles there, how to move, though he kept overdoing it and whipping far too much to one side or the other. He struggled, desperately, to right himself, heart pounding. Yet what did Matt think he could do as a legless lizard?

Yet his transformation nearly being complete meant that he could see his wife, his Stacey, as she scrambled and tried to reach out to him across the table. Of course, she couldn't see her husband, only his clothes, but Matt tried to cry out for her, squirming and wriggling uselessly, still not knowing in any way how to use his new body. She must not have seen him, seen the glass lizard, little legs and arms – what even were those on a cockroach? – waving pathetically.

Oh, Stacey, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry…

_ _

He couldn't help her though and didn't even know what at all he could have done differently, for everything had happened at such a rapid pace, except for his transformation, that he had been forced to watch everything happen before his eyes. Despite wanting to sink into himself, all as the glass lizard was forced to watch everything, he could not help but think that it was kind of as if everything there had been orchestrated simply to cause him the most humiliation possible, to show him that someone else, all along, had been in control.

Piper.

He had to look at Piper.

She was similar to Oliver, though that was no blessing, but seemed to be staying larger than the other coyote. Matt likened the tan and black and grey hues of her fur to those that he had seen in Oliver, though most of her was covered by fur at that point. There was no sense in protecting her modesty in any way, considering all that was happening, but Matt still found himself grateful that even his daughter did not have to be totally bare there.

But something strange pulled from between her legs, even though her father knew that he should not have been looking. He didn't know how good a glass lizard's vision was supposed to be, but maybe that was all part of the horror, that he could see everything in that stark detail, eyes focusing, even locking onto his small wife now that he was down on her level, flat on the table. Everything shocked him, the colours sharp and vibrant, as if they were even trying to claw his attention, dramatically, from one member of his family to the next.

And then there were a pair of legs strutting into the room, above Piper as the coyote struggled out of her clothes, kicking off her underwear, though her tail was already fluffing up and stretching out from her back end, the hock of her back legs forming as she stood on her toes. She looked up and tried to scamper away from the redhead towering over her suddenly, but she only slid and went down on her nose with a yelp, flat on her side and scrabbling.

Above her, Kate smirked, setting aside her kit on a side table, out of the way of the frantically transforming family. Behind her, she swung the door closed just to make sure that the very wily glass lizard that seemed to be off on a mission did not escape. She had big plans for him, as small as he was… Hudson, was it? Their names wouldn't matter all that much to Kate anymore, except when she was using them to torture and humiliate other members of their family.

“I see the newest breeding male is nearly ready," Kate cooed, not bothering to introduce herself as she dragged Piper back and up in the air by the scruff of the neck, hanging her so that her back legs kicked at the floor, barely finding any purchase. “Oh, you didn't think you were going to have a nice, easy transformation into a little coyote bitch now, did you? That's your brother's job?"

Matt gulped in horror, shrinking away, but he couldn't nestle back into the pile of his clothes, half lying “smushed" into the mashed potatoes. The mess didn't matter anymore.

His daughter… No… Who was this woman? What did she want from them?

He could not say, did not even want to say, his body feeling like every breath shuddered all the way through him, flailing, gulping, eyes wide and too wild to be real. But he was just a glass lizard and, even then, what could he do?

“You are looking fine though, though you still need to finish your transformation," Kate noted, prodding the coyote's sex, the new genitalia forming between her legs in a pair of furry balls and the fold of a sheath. “And keep your cock out too. Don't want that retracting and hiding away in there now, do we? That wouldn't be any fun at all!"

Her heart lifted. Oh, she had been looking forward to this family for so long, since they had come to her sanctuary! They were so wholesome, so sweet, and the horror in their eyes and the monstrosity of their transformations had sung to her wicked heart like no others had. Of course, she had had to make sure that she had a nice pair of mated coyotes in her transformation clutch this time, but had not kept their sexes the same. Whereas the man had become a bitch, the daughter had become a breeding male, nice and virile. A little adjustment to the transformation serum also ensured that Piper muscled up nice and strong, the kind of coyote that no other in the wild would dare take on.

Of course, she would not be a problem to Kate, not in handling her or the rest of her family. She dropped Piper, the coyote yelping, losing interest in her, though the brother, yes… She should show that wretch of a father just what had happened to his son.

Dragging Oliver casually to her by his tail, the coyote squealing with a nail-biting fervour, she scruffed him to keep his teeth away from her hands, turning him around.

“Look! Just a pussy! I must say, you should really have been more intelligent than this, it is quite sad," she laughed, taunting them. “Didn't even know your sexes are changing. Look, I'll even show you…"

Matt tried to lung, not knowing what to do, for he was not at all intimidating in his current form, not as Kate wiggled her finger into Oliver's sex. The coyote yowled and writhed, but Kate held her fast as she showed Oliver, very clearly, that he had a cunny under his tail and nothing like the male genitalia that he had once had.

“I expect you'll think of yourselves as your original sexes for now," Kate scoffed dismissively, though she took her time working her finger back and forth within the coyote's sex, watching Oliver's hindquarters round out a little with muscle, though the bitch was deliberately smaller than the male coyote that she had transformed for her. “But… That's not my problem. I don't really care what you think of yourselves are, as long as you are entertaining and obey me. You are going to obey, aren't you? Or else I'll have to hurt someone…"

Matt wriggled. Hurt them? She was going to do worse to them? No… No, that couldn't be, his mind grappling and reeling even as it tried to take stock of everything. Yet that was not so easy when there was too much happening, winding together, some freaky criminal mastermind behind them all and even his son becoming a bitch.

But he had to understand, in the end, one way or the other. That was what Kate wanted, so that they were forced to live through every insidious, sordid detail of their torture, played out over and over again for the rest of their lives.

So… Piper had become a male coyote. The glass lizard shrank back in revulsion, curling in on herself as her body pooled. But Piper would always be her daughter, even then, a strange sense of nausea that wouldn't go anywhere rising in Matt's stomach. He didn't think lizards could do that…but, honestly, he didn't know either.

Piper a male coyote. Oliver a female coyote. Hudson a glass lizard, just like him. His wife… Matt swallowed hard, feeling his throat move, some part of him glad, even then, that he could still do that motion. A cockroach. His wife was a cockroach. And he was a glass lizard, just like his son, Hudson.

Or maybe not…

“Oh, and you…" Kate smirked, leaning down over Matt as she prodded him. “Didn't you notice anything different here yet? I would have thought that you would be more observant than that, you with your high-flying job and all that… Work it out, come on, I don't have all day just to toy with you guys."

That was a lie, of course, for Kate had completely cleared her schedule so that she could do everything and anything that she wanted with the family that she was already partway into corrupting. Not like they could get out of it anyway…

She worked her finger into the bitch coyote's pussy, playing with her, though Oliver most likely still thought of himself as a male. It was going to be one of those times where the pronouns were woven back and forth, but she didn't care. If she wanted to call the son a bitch while he was wriggling back and forth with a wet, dripping pussy, the base of his tail already sopping in it, she damn well would do as she pleased.

“You might have noticed, as your transformations settle and you are forever trapped in these forms," Kate said, “that you are sensitive. You should feel just how your bodies ache, you new ladies with slits and cunts… They're there to be filled and, well, aren't you all prime for that?"

Matt looked at his son, Hudson, with a sick, twisting feeling in his stomach. With all that the strange woman was saying, it looked like there was something there that he could not come to attend to. He didn't want to acknowledge it, even as a preview of his fate, in Kate's words, was laid out before him.

“So sensitive…" Kate murmured, fingering the coyote again before tossing them aside. “And so virile too… Look at your daughter, Matt. Well, she's a breeder now. These balls have to be put to good use, hm?"

Kate smirked as she, once more, made a point of showing off Piper's genitals, the soft sheath covered in fur, though it plumped out a little as she massaged it. She was not squeamish at all about touching any of them like that as their human intellect, deliciously, was kept intact, human minds locked within their bodies, forever caged. She wouldn't have wanted it any other way, not as Piper's cock was forced out, the coyote squirming, but not fighting hard enough to get away. It was as if she'd never had to fight before, though Kate didn't care about that part, or not, of her backstory and life. Only what she could take from her, only what could be used. And there was someone in the family that could be used beautifully, humiliated in the crudest, most demeaning of ways…

“Now, for you…"

Kate grinned cruelly, lips stretching too widely as she plucked the cockroach up into the air by her body. Stacey squirmed and fought, but her wriggling, well…it didn't get her anywhere. She could flutter her little legs and antennae as much as she wanted, but there was little else she could do. Maybe it would have been a kindness to change her sex too, but Kate had wanted the woman with the phobia of cockroaches to feel the ultimate pain of being taken by other transformed victims.

“Now, now, now," she chided the chirping, practically wailing cockroach. “This is for your own good. Kind of. You can think of it any way that you like, really, it makes no difference to me."

She dropped Stacey the cockroach into a plastic terrarium that she had brought in with her, though it was a very special kind of terrarium. She didn't want, after all, Stacey to get away from who she now was and who she had been transformed into, having lined the terrarium in advance with mirrors. No matter which direction the cockroach turned, there was no getting away from the horror of her reflection as her little legs waved increasingly frantically.

No one could tell quite what was going on in Stacey's mind, but Matt was still able to look down into the terrarium and see his poor wife trying to run in circles. Yet there was nowhere that she could go to escape her reflection. It was there, the horror of a roach staring back at her from all angles, frightening her, sending sick chills and churns into the pit of her being.

Matt ached for her, though the glass lizard still couldn't do anything, not as fear gripped him. What was he to do? What kind of husband did it make him if he couldn't do anything to stop the traumatisation of his wife? And could he do nothing at all to turn her back? His own life was not worth anything if there was anything at all that he could do to give hers meaning and beauty once again.

Please, don't do this, he tried to say, though all that came out of his lips was a series of glass lizard hisses, his body twisting back and forth. Please, spare my wife, please, stop all this. I'll do anything you want! Just take me, spare my family!

_ _

“I don't need to hear your words to know what you're saying," Kate scoffed, flipping her hand dismissively. “It's all the same to me. Stop, you say, you'll do anything I want, you say. That's why I took your words from you. I don't want to hear the begging, the pleading… Come here!"

Continued in part two…