FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Unwanted Transformation

---

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by ShadowyMatt

_ _

_ _

“Woo-hoo!"

Matt grinned, fooling about as he kicked his feet out to the sides of his moped, skidding down the promenade of the beach. It, perhaps, was not his finest moment, but it was just the way he got when he was out with his friends, Carl and Sanne. Even though they were all in their early twenties, they just seemed to get into trouble when they were together, Matt and Carl's hair a lighter blonde still with the summer light, though they still had plenty of the hotter months of the year to enjoy together.

Their friend, Sanne, was someone who'd started hanging out with them the year before and, even though she was a woman, she fit in well with their crazy group. Sure, they all had their jobs to get to and other lives that they lived, but the three friends made time to hang out whenever they could.

It was what friends did, after all, even as Sanne sped down the promenade, the sea breeze lifting her blonde hair from the back of her neck, flickering back where it had been straightened earlier that day.

“Oi, guys – catch up!"

She whooped for the sheer hell of it, tossing a cup over her shoulder, orange soda splattering over the ground. It left a mess but, really, who was going to stop her for something like that? As always, they all ignored the bins on the paths that bordered the beach, along with the shouts of annoyance that rose in their wake as they rode their mopeds far too close to other people.

Carl blasted music, his speakers fixed to the back of his moped as he shot ahead, seeking a shady spot in which to park up. It was a section of the promenade with raised steps at the back: perfect for sitting, drinking and just generally hanging out. The buzz of light alcohol resounded through his system and he took a deep breath as he skidded to a halt, jerking the moped sideways.

“Come on, guys, you're so goddamn slow…"

He mocked them good-naturedly, though the blasting, pounding music from his speakers annoyed bystanders, even as he kicked a can at a passing jogger. Although the jogger cast him a sidelong look, Carl ignored him. He just wasn't in the habit of paying attention to people who thought their shenanigans got in the way.

If that meant they were ever so slightly something of a public nuisance, well…was that any real problem?

Matt and Sanne joined him, laughing loudly.

“I can't believe that!"

“I know!"

He shook his head at them, though scanned the area, boredom already creeping in. Perhaps he shouldn't have been as annoyed as he was when things slowed down, but Carl was the sort of person who always needed something to occupy him. That was likely why he'd got into so much trouble when he'd been younger. Things changed, however, after becoming an adult.

Trouble actually had real-world consequences…

“Hey, look…" Carl nodded his head towards a tall woman with long, lean legs visible under her pretty sundress, her blonde hair lightly wavy and falling around her face. “Her…"

Matt smirked, though Sanne rolled her eyes.

“Honestly, you guys…" She scoffed. “Can't you think with anything other than your dicks?"

She was more often than not the voice of reason between them, though even Sanne did not have all that much reason in her. For Matt and Carl were busy snickering and giggling to each other, their greedy, young eyes fixed on the woman's arse. In her dress, it was so big and round that it jiggled obviously with every step she took.

Carl laughed and slapped his thigh, the moped at a standstill.

“Hey, baby," he catcalled, putting on a deeper tone. “I'd take a ride on that butt, if you know what I'm saying!"

“Or between those tits of yours," Matt shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his voice carried to her. “Can see you're not wearing a bra – you don't need headlights on in this weather!"

Sanne groaned and shook her head, though even she could not help laughing at their antics. She, if no one else, knew there was no harm in it, despite how their actions affected others.

The woman paused, older but still beautiful, an eyebrow raised. Her tits sagged a little, revealing she wasn't indeed wearing a bra, though Matt must have been eagle-eyed to notice, even if it was more obvious when her buttocks shook with every step. Her cleavage showed through the low-cut dress, though her breasts were not pressed together as they would have been with a bra. There was no sharp hollow between her breasts where they softly rested on her chest, but her blue eyes were hard as she turned to them with a piercing stare.

“Hey, baby – yeah! Come over here."

Carl was not original, smirking and getting off his moped, the kickstand out so it was propped up on its own. Matt, however, backed down a bit, sliding his gaze away as the woman latched onto them.

“Who do you think you are speaking to a stranger like that?" She challenged them. “Get on with your day – or I'll have you all changed for this experience…"

“Changed?" Carl rolled his eyes even as Sanne shot them a questioning look. “What are you, some kind of witch?"

Her eyes glinted darkly.

“Maybe in a way… Or that is how you would see it."

“Oh, you're just being a bore," Carl said, dismissing her words with a flip of his hand. “You're no fun, seriously. And talking about magic like it's real… Why don't you get on then, if you're not going to come here and take a ride on my moped with me?"

Sanne pressed a hand to her forehead, half-shielding her face.

“Carl, sheesh… You need to pick your people, seriously."

Though even she couldn't help but snicker, nudging him with her elbow.

“Do you really think the bitch can do magic?" She hissed, not keeping her voice all that low. “Look, all these people are watching, they think she'd just as stupid. She must be really screwy to think she can do magic!"

They laughed, tears in the corners of her eyes, Carl tipping in towards her. Indeed, a crowd was gathering, whispers abounding, though it was impossible to tell what side anyone was on, considering they didn't do anything to help either side or step in at all. They were just there to see a show, regardless of what happened.

The woman, however, ignored their jeers, their swears and their curses. She was better than all of them and they were no more than ants to her, simply insignificant. Drawing herself up tall, she set her eyes on Matt, the man who had held back, still on his moped while the other two were standing, uncomfortable with the situation.

The pussy… Hm. He will go first.

_ _

She didn't have to let them know what she was doing as she pulled her power to the forefront of her mind and spoke out loud.

“Ignire degenos et rapidimus es deminans," she said, air swirling around her, whipping up, the sky growing darker. “Ad hoc tamerunt, ipsos probare cades rugens munitete… Mihi livis pecunarant se aedum haec oculae, cui registemus ipsos canus templor!"

Carl and Sanne laughed, but…it wasn't their place to laugh. Not anymore. Matt jolted, lips parted in a silent scream.

His clothes! Where were his clothes? They had disappeared as if they had never been, his hands grabbing at himself, trying to cover his crotch and his modesty. Peals of laughter rang out, that time directed at him, but he couldn't think of that.

It was as if his mind was slipping away as he stared at the beautiful woman, standing there in a beam of light, the rest of the world around her dark and grey, as if it really wasn't worth any of his attention at all.

“Oh…"

He breathed out in a soft exhalation, though horror tugged at the back of his mind. Something was warning him against doing what he wanted, licking his lips faintly as he dropped to all fours.

She was wonderful… Everything he needed. Dimly, he was aware of someone behind him calling him back, saying his name, but that didn't matter. All he saw was her pussy, the aching need of it, as if the heat had a song all of its own, drawing him closer and closer to her.

Down on all fours, he didn't care for the hard, rough concrete as he crawled towards her, the chant ringing in his ears. It was hypnotic, beautiful, ever so wonderful… But he had to be with her, he had to be a part of her.

The woman stood back, snapping her fingers with a subtle word and a breath, her dress hitching up to expose her pussy, thick with a full bush of hair. She didn't seem at all bothered about revealing it to the crowd – and neither did anyone seem to think anything untoward about her nudity.

Well, no one other than Carl and Sanne, though it was as if the rest of the crowd was in a trance, watching transfixed, snickering and sneering to themselves.

“Look at him, he's going to fall for her."

“Heh, fucking knew it."

“Such a pussy."

“Carl," Sanne said lowly, pressing in close to Carl, needing to know someone else sane was there. “What's going on? Matt… Matt's done nothing crazy like this before!"

Carl shook his head.

“I don't know, maybe he's winding her up more? She was so easy to tease, damn it…"

But Matt was in a world of his own as he crawled right up to her hairy pussy and knelt up a little, pressing his face between her legs. He lapped slowly, tracing her tongue against her damp pussy lips, but couldn't hold himself back as he moaned against her, the soft hair of her pussy brushing his face.

“Mmmph… Ohhhhh…"

He grunted against her, plundering her pussy with his tongue – yet Matt was far from being in control in any sense of the word. No, no… No, he was not in control, not as he swept his tongue around, digging it into her cunny, pulling it back inside her, though he was not trying to give her pleasure. No, he was just satisfying himself, eating her out, focusing on her snatch and not her clit, his tongue dragging against her inner walls.

“Mmmmphhh…"

“Look how good he is," she crooned, hitching her dress up even higher, though all eyes were on Matt. “Eating out my pussy… You want to be part of it, don't you?"

Matt grunted against her, blinking, not really hearing her. He didn't see anything but the thick puff of blonde hair at her crotch, how it curled lightly, begging his attention. His nose dragged up through it as he moaned, shivering with need.

“Matt…" Sanne flinched, trying not to look but simply unable to drag her eyes away. “Matt… What the fuck?"

Carl shook his head.

“I don't know… What the fuck is he doing now?"

Matt turned around, before their eyes, though his gaze was hazy and unfocused, as if he was in a trance. With his heart pounding and pounding, he knew what was needed even if he didn't have any reasoning for it in his mind, turning so his backside was ground up against the strange woman's pussy.

She smirked wickedly, leering down at him, yet her beauty remained with a shiver of a façade.

“There now… We have a better place for you."

Matt shivered. What did she mean? He blinked at the crowd, his head clearly a little, heat searing into his cold skin as he realised, for some reason, he was entirely nude. What the hell? He tried to pull away, head ducked down in shame, and yet…something kept him there.

He tugged again, scrambling at the concrete, grunting and heaving, sweat beading on his brow. Yet whenever he tried to move, all Matt did was pull the woman along with him, though not very far at all, not as she planted herself firmly into the ground, as if an otherworldly force was locking her heels in place.

“Unff… Whaaa… What…"

“Oh, now you can't talk, hm?"

She smirked down, Matt's buttocks slowly but surely melding into her. His flesh softened and dripped as if it had the consistency of melted wax, something no human skin should ever have been partial too, though it had never been the man's decision to lose himself in that way. He scrabbled and gaped, squealing like a pig, his fingers hooked into claw-like shapes as he scraped and yanked, striving with every fearful bone in his body to get himself out and away from her.

Yet she wasn't going to allow that.

“Come now, it'll be easier for you if you don't struggle…"

Dimly, Matt was aware of Carl and Sanne calling his name, though the roar of his dull heartbeat coursed through him, blocking out much else. The laughter, the jeers, the screams… Though no one was coming to save him, the troublemaker, not as his backside sank into the strange woman who had said she could use magic, who, perhaps, they all should have listened to.

If only to save their own skins. But it was far, far too late for that.

“Nnnngggghhhh… No… Please…"

He lost feeling in his buttocks, for they simply were not there anymore, his legs pulling up as his entire lower half melted into the woman's crotch. The hairs welcomed him, tickling his skin as he sank into her, losing himself, his legs weak and wobbling, smaller and smaller as the substance was sucked from them. It was as if the flesh that made up his body was, indeed, being sucked into her body through a straw and made use of, the faint shudder of the woman barely noticeable behind him.

“No… Can't…move… Sanne… Carl!"

He cried out, tears spilling from his eyes, running tracks down his cheeks. Yet they stood, transfixed in horror, at a loss as to what they even could do to help him. Matt heaved and panted, straining with all his might and rounding his upper body into a crude hunch, his heart hammering and beating. Yet not even his body launching itself into flight mode would get him out of a situation like that, some measure of hopelessness and an understanding of his situation filtering into the back of his mind.

“Give up," the woman mocked up. “You'll end up as part of my hairy pussy anyway, nice and thick, with my plump lips. I needed another soul to absorb, after all… You were just in my way."

If they hadn't catcalled her, maybe nothing would have happened. The loss of his legs struck him with a jolt in his stomach, trying to twist and contort, yet he no longer had the leverage of his legs anymore. The last part of his legs to suck up and meld into her pussy, forming thick folds, glistening with her arousal, was his toes, wriggling and twitching futilely to the very last moment.

“Please… Help me!"

The crowd laughed, a big man with tattoos pointing at him.

“It's where you belong, pussy!"

Matt's cheeks reddened, sobbing as he clawed at the ground, his hips softening into the flesh of her pussy and crotch as the rest of him rippled to meet her. The slow, treacherous slide pulled at him as he was dragged slowly backwards, losing ground, his fingertips bleeding as he lost the fragile hold he'd had on his own reality.

The absence of body parts cut deep, moving as if to kick out a leg, to slam it back into the woman's own legs – but finding there simply was not no longer the muscle there, along with tendons and bones, to perform the action. His mind still thought there was a leg there and tried to send the commands to it through his nervous system, but the loss pulled deep, an aching sense of numbness forming where there was not even something to be numb.

Sanne tried to step behind Carl as he froze, his jaw slack. Maybe they'd taken some dibbles or something and he'd forgotten… For what he was seeing surely, most certainly, absolutely definitely could not be happening. Yet there Matt was: losing the sloppy, “goopy" melting substance of his body as he merged with the woman's crotch, sucking up to his stomach, losing his bare bellybutton and pulling higher, up his chest.

“She's… Shit, this is fucked up."

It should have crossed his mind that he could have done something to help his best friend out, but there was no telling what anyone would do in a situation like that until it happened to them. And Carl had never been the bravest sort, always bold and chaotic in a group but little more than that. He had never wanted to go out on a limb for anyone and try to save anyone, even if he was not to know that there was no saving any of them.

Matt cried, whimpering through a bubbling, gurgling sob as he lost his chest, more and more of his body fading. His arms grew limp and loose, with as much use to them as wet noodles, flopping as the dangled from his shoulders and the only function Matt was left with being the ability to turn his head, fearful, from side to side. Soon, not even that would be needed.

“Please… Have mercy… Please… Let me go."

She smirked down at him as Matt turned his head as far around as he could get it, dangling from her crotch, the top of his head brushing the ground as he lifted, a part of her forevermore. It was as if he had become an obscene growth dangling from her crotch, waggling back and forth, perhaps some kind of human chest-to-head-shaped cock.

“You could have had mercy," she said silkily, sliding her gaze away to study her painted fingernails. “Yet you chose not to. Why should I be kind to you when I can absorb you, hm? I think you already know very much exactly how this all ends."

He whimpered, lips slick with tears, but his arms pulled up, his shoulders letting them wiggle back, smaller and smaller, all as his body was absorbed by her. Surely, she would make better use of it than Matt ever had, but his choice had been taken from him, stolen.

His lips fell numb, fear gripping him, trying to thrash yet…even his head tipped forward. His spine was mostly gone as the last slices of vertebrae melded with her too, all the way up to the base of his skull. With his eyelids drooping, he huffed and let his lips hang, his last breath breaking his lips.

There was nothing else for him there, no… Not even as the din of his remembered heartbeat drummed through his mind, a rhythm he would never again get for his own. It was not needed, no, not for someone like him. As his head started to merge with her body, his fingers wiggled, the last vestiges of a limb in any way, shape or form, softly and loosening as they became a part of her too.

Something the woman could use – and no more than that.

Slowly but surely, his face softened, losing his features, Sanne staring in horror as a strangled squeak broke her lips.

“No…"

For Matt was already gone, his face smoothing out as his hair added to the thick, dark blonde bush around her crotch, more curls of pubic hair than ever added to all she already had on display. His lips were the last to fade, softening and melting into the opening of her pussy and the folds around it, soft and succulent. In a silent scream of terror, the woman's pussy, having absorbed the man who had mocked her, leaked a drop of her arousal as his transformation completed, the white slickness gleaming on her pussy lips as if she was proud of what she'd done.

And Matt was no more, mentally or physically, absorbed by someone who could, at least, use his body for the ill-will he had begotten from her.

Carl gaped, opening and closing his mouth several times with no sound coming out. What the hell had happened there? Matt had been…and then he'd not been?

His thoughts came slowly, thick and sludgy, as if they were working their way to the forefront of his mind through thick mud. Yet he had never been the quickest of thinkers – or had told himself that so he could get away with not doing things he didn't want to do. If he was bad at something that someone, like his mother, asked him to do, he didn't have to do it, in the end, because they would just do it for him.

So, perhaps he was intelligent – at getting his own way.

All that was about to change, however, as the stranger turned her attention to Carl and he flinched under her hard stare. Her lips curved up in a deadly smile, yet it never reached her eyes.

Against himself, his eyes still dropped to her tits, her dress falling down to cover her hairy pussy. Still, he stared at her as if she was something to be ogled, that part of him present despite all that had happened.

It couldn't be turned off within him, of course, so easily, as much as that may have saved him, just a little.

There'd be no way to tell as the clouds swirled overhead, laughs and jeers cutting through the air.

“Get him!"

“Oh, he's gonna regret this!"

Sanne gulped, the creepy, eerie edge to the woman's smile pulling at her. It felt like she wanted to run towards the woman, kind of like Matt had done, and flee from her at the same time.

Maybe she was trapped in the gaze of a true predator. Her lips stretched a little wider than they should have and Sanne pressed her own lips together, trying to hide her fear.

“No… Please…" She tried, though she could barely raise her voice at all as she breathed life into her words. “Please… Can you bring him back? Oh… Oh, Matt didn't deserve that!"

“And you're next," the woman said, though she still had not imparted her name to anyone; of course, it was unneeded. “Carl… Oh, yes, I know your name. I know everything I need to know about you."

She raised her hands, lightning cracking overhead in a sharp, jagged bolt that cut through the air. The crowd whooped and hollered, some women sitting on the shoulders of the men just so they could get a better view. The only two who seemed at all aware of the horror, gripping and chilling, of what was happening were Carl and Sanne.

As if that was going to help them.

“And now… Herodamur interdum perjurer picamus… Deformi. Queo termate nos iuvos herbe tempereram divexus ipsum savor sed inspirerrimus posteritus!"

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

His scream wailed, lancing through the air at a high pitch that had the crowd hollering with laughter, slapping their thighs and thoroughly enjoying their predicament. They could never have imagined that they'd be enjoying such a show when heading out to the beach and promenade that day, the sea stirred up and choppy in grey water with the woman's power, though they knew the troublemakers deserved it. They'd been harassing people just going about their daily business and enjoying themselves for weeks by that point, even going to the point of petty theft. And those damn mopeds just didn't do anyone any favours too!

If Matt, Carl and Sanne had not shown any kindness or consideration to anyone else, well…there was no reason for anyone to come to their rescue.

In fact, many there were glad to see Matt gone, hungry for the rest of them too.

Yanked forward, Carl shot towards the woman, gasping for air, his feet barely touching the ground. It was as if there was a cord dug into his chest, pulled from his torso with his legs flying back behind him, head whipping back too. And he had to follow the call of it, eyes wide and streaming, until he tumbled to the ground right before her.

“Ah… No…"

He growled, finding an extra ounce of strength inside him. No more could Carl freeze when his life was in danger, huffing and panting, turning around onto all fours to try to crawl away. His body ached deeply, a sense of sickness roiling and twisting in his gut, yet there was a lightness to him too, as if all his bones had suddenly been hollowed out and had the same essence as birds. If he spread his arms out, he thought through a delirious twist of rancid panic, would he be able to take flight, just like a pigeon?

He gasped, heaving, fear coiling through him, the nest of snakes demanding he pay attention t to them, twisting through his nervous system. Yet his clothes disintegrated from his form in a similar fashion as to how they had done for Matt, leaving his bare skin and soft belly on view for everyone to see.

Carl looked eyes with Sanne, lips moving.

“Help…me…"

But she couldn't help him. No one could help him, not as his feet, pressed together at the inner sides, lifted to her crotch, the heel and sole grinding back into her hairy snatch like Matt's body had.

“Oh, I'm going to enjoy this one…" The woman said, patting his leg lightly, though there was nothing comforting about it. “But I have something different in mind for you… I need something new."

“Unff… No… Please… I'll do…whatever you want!"

He heaved and scrabbled, yet he didn't seem to have the energy in his body anymore to do what was needed, to get himself away, the dull pounding of his heart aching through his entire form. He had to escape, had to do something, yet his body slowly but surely straightened up, becoming stiff and rigid. His arms slunk down to his sides and he tugged helplessly at them, even though there didn't seem to be all that much point in doing anything to fight back anymore.

“You're already doing what I want."

He pulled futilely at his hands where they were glued to his sides, his flesh soft and squishy there, as if he was melting into himself. Yet Carl stayed straight and rigid, sticking out from her crotch, his head scraping the ground as he groaned.

“Nnggghhh…"

His whole body…tightened. As if his flesh was squeezing him, a sausage too fat for its skin. He tried to squirm, tried to fight, though all Carl managed was a helpless little wiggle back and forth, as if the only part of him that had any movement left in him at all was right at his feet, where he was attached to the woman.

“Unff… Let me…go… Please…"

He blinked slowly, though even that motion seemed to come with greater and greater difficulty, a dull sense of aching heaviness settling through him. The features of Carl's body softened, from his joints to his muscles, his legs and feet smoothing down first as his entire body compressed.

She needed him to be smaller, much smaller, after all, for what she had in mind for him, his legs squashing together, his body boasting the consistency of clay. For that was all he was to her, something to be moulded and squashed into her whim, to fit what she wanted for him. Frankly, she was pleased she had come up with such a fate for Carl's transformation on the spot.

Yet she'd always wanted a cock too and he'd be the perfect one.

His body shrank, tightening and squeezing, being forced into a form that was too small for it as he lost a foot in height and then another. Carl gasped, eyes wide and strained, though it seemed to take a lot more effort than he was ready to make even to blink anymore, his shoulders stiff, his neck straight.

“Whuh… What…"

He moved his mouth slowly, feeling out his lips and tongue. It felt…odd. Like there was a hollowness there, as if his lips felt more natural in an O-shape, like a hole or a slit. His tongue grew heavy, falling naturally into the space at the base of his mouth between his teeth and words became harder to form.

“Please…"

Harder, but not impossible.

“Please, don't…do this…to me…"

He huffed, straining to take in breaths, but he would not need air anymore. His body, after all, was melding with hers and taking sustenance from her, even though it was Carl who would be used. There no longer was any definition between his legs, merely a long, fleshy log of pale skin, his hairs falling away on the majority of his body, though he'd never really considered himself all that hairy anyway.

Nude and bare of even the lightest smattering of hair, besides what was on top of his head, Carl huffed, blowing out his cheeks with air, eyes wide and glassy.

Yet it was Sanne who truly bore witness to the horror of his transformation, how his nipples took on the same tone as the rest of his skin, becoming indiscernible and sinking back into the blobby mass of flesh that his body was becoming. There had been a sharper rise to his hip bones, at the start, but the stream of fat-like flesh swamped them, jiggling and rippling as it took all definition from him.

Even the light muscle he'd had across his chest, merely defining his pecs with a soft line, sank back into him, as if it had never been. His arms softened, shoulders losing their width and muscle, even though it was as little muscle, quite frankly, as Carl could ever have got away with. He'd never been one to head to the gym or anything like that, though he had been into swimming for a time and kept something of that leaner build.

She didn't have to see his buttocks to know there was no crack between them anymore, no separating one cheek from the other, just a soft wash of flesh that rippled faintly as if there was something bubbling beneath it. Would he have been warm if she'd touched him? She didn't know how to tell, whether it would even be possible to tell, a morbid, clawing fascination sinking into her.

Could she help him? Sanne gulped hard, the lump in her throat travelling down to rest heavily in the pit of her stomach, like a meal that just didn't settle right in her belly. Oh, she didn't think she could, for those were powers beyond anything she could ever have imagined and, well, there was still a frantic part of her mind that hoped it was a dream. Or a bad trip, a bump on the head, something silly they had done together. Just anything, absolutely anything, to stop it from being their reality.

Carl's mind softened like the cock-flesh his body was in the process of becoming, something fat and heavy sagging from the root of his body. Well, he couldn't really say he had feet anymore, could he? They were gone, though sensation lingered in his form, nerve endings prickling as the woman swept her hand up his three-foot-long “body."

“Mmmm… Feel that?" She whispered, her voice husky and low with sordid hunger. “You're going to make me feel so good…"

“No… I don't want… Not like Matt…"

“Don't say that," she murmured, stroking him as something wet leaked into his mouth, making him try to cough and gag, his oesophagus still, temporarily, in place. “No… You'll be together forever, both you and Matt. So, you don't need to worry anymore. You don't need to think anymore. All you need to do…is to be a good cock for me."

“And that just comes naturally to you."

Carl wriggled, eyelids fluttering, yet he couldn't blink easily anymore, not as even those stiffened, his neck fattening so there was no longer any distinction between his body and his head, chin blending into the flesh of the “rest of him." He squirmed and wriggled and twitched back and forth, mouth agape, not even able to fully close his lips.

“Mmmmph… No… Spare me… I don't…" He had to concentrate to force out the words, slurring heavily. “Don't…want to die…"

She ignored him, of course, as his organs melted, his body using the energy from them to come in closer and tighter, his girth around about the same as his head. But she needed a smaller cock than that, unfortunately, something more functional, his head shrinking along with him as he pulled down and down and down, until he was roughly twelve inches long.

Yet even Carl knew he was no longer even recognisable as himself, the rise of his cheekbones melding back into his face, his eyes blurring and fading until flesh swamped them, stealing his sight from him. And maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he could not see the last vestiges of his fate, thoughts swirling around his head, drifting back and forth, balls dropping heavily at the base of his cock-body.

No… Can't talk…

_ _

His thoughts came slowly and dully as he transformed, losing himself, his hair falling away, hearing blocked out. It wasn't needed for a dick.

The cum in “his" nuts churned and swilled about and the grace of a hand on his length was so hot, stroking up and down, pumping and teasing. Carl throbbed eagerly into her touch, not knowing what he was doing, his mouth becoming the slit at the head of his cock-body.

No… Feels good… Can't…do this… No…

_ _

It was not up to Carl, however, to decide as her balls hung heavily and she stroked her new shaft: a full formed cock that had no human features left at all. It was a good size at eight inches, but, well, she wasn't really thinking about using it on a partner. It was just for her and her pleasure – and that could be more than enough for her.

“Mmm… And now, for your finale, Carl."

She jerked off her dick rapidly, skin pulling over his transformed form as he couldn't hold on for a single moment longer, letting loose in a jet of cum. And in the spending of her seed, his body hers, transformed, to do with as she pleased, he splattered his thoughts over the ground in a puddle of semen, the dress hanging down loosely over the base of his cock-body, just a dick and only a dick.

Like Matt, Carl was gone, his soul melted into cum.

Sanne shuddered, half behind one of the mopeds as the woman turned a dark, boiling gaze on her.

And now what do I do?

Her fingers curled around the handlebars, shuddering, shivering, jerking it about as her whole body trembled viciously.

“You, on the other hand…" She finally said, addressing Sanne. “You did not catcall me. But you are just as much a part of this as the men were… Though I would not really call them men. Boys, perhaps. No more than that with the sense of maturity they had in them."

Sanne shivered, shaking her head, her hands held up before her as if she thought she could put up a physical barrier between herself and the woman, prevent her fate from becoming true.

“No… Yes… I mean… I'm sorry we did so much… I'm so sorry… We'll… I mean I'll… I'll never do anything like that again!"

She sucked in a breath, ragged with a sob, tears spilling over from the corners of her eyes. There was a part of her that said there was no point in running, her legs trembling, knees practically knocking together as if he was something out of a cartoon, her fear obvious.

The stranger raised her hands again, the storm around them easier, wind tugging and licking at Sanne's clothes as the woman spoke.

“Corroboratrix. aliquid adaqui extremantis. Obdurire, ego divinite enervaterat demonas!"

Sanne sucked in a breath, bracing herself. The chant had been shorter that time and everything seemed a bit lighter around her, as if the wind was not blowing as hard. Her mother would have called the wind that had raged while Carl and Matt were transforming, being lost to her, a “lazy wind" – because it was so lazy that it felt like it wanted to go straight through a person, rather than around them.

It was the wrong time for something like that to pop into her mind, but she pulled back with a short cry as her clothes too fell away. Her breasts gleamed faintly, exposed in a glimmer of sunlight breaking through the clouds, though Sanne was not in any state of mind to realise that it meant the transformations were, at least, coming to an end.

“No…"

She held her hands over her breasts, hunching forward, though the mopeds were suddenly gone, leaving her nothing to hide behind. Sanne turned around, intending to run, to do something to cover herself, but dark hair thickened up over her hands, spreading up her arms.

What?

_ _

Horrified, she shrieked as it grew, itchy and cloying, feeling like something was pressing on her skin, trying to overtake her in a way she had never wanted. She'd never had all that much body hair at all and even her crotch fluffed up with a thick, blonde curl of hair – though it was even more so than the quivering bush the woman boasted. It looked more than as if she had never shaved, as if she had been taking supplements to make the bushy curl of her pubic hair thicken up specifically.

Even her legs, which had been shaved, grew hairy, the hair darker than the blonde hair she naturally had – though that was never the point. Her eyebrows thickened into caterpillar-like stripes on her face, overshadowing her eyes, itchy, bushy hair poking out of her armpits. Most humiliatingly of all, a hairy happy trail lanced down from her belly button to her crotch, diving into the rat's nest of her pubic hair.

“Agh… No!"

Sanne whipped around, not knowing where to turn, laughter ringing in her ears. The world around her was brightening, returning to normal – yet none of it would ever again be normal for her. She shuddered with the need to itch and scratch the new hair, not yet used to it, but it would always grow back, for her, from that point on, no matter how many times it changed it.

“Mmph… What… What are you doing…nnghh…to me?"

Sanne groaned, swaying, her teeth aching deeply, all the way down into the roots. They felt too big for her mouth all of a sudden, crowded and clustered, some nudging in front of others as if there were abruptly too many for her mouth.

The woman's eyes never left Sanne's body, taking in all the changes her spell laid upon her, transforming her from the casual beauty to something hideous. Well, at least by society's standards, but all it needed to be was a punishment for Sanne, right? Only that, no… Never more than that.

Her teeth had to be a focus yet, shoved so far out of alignment that they would never be wrangled back into place with a brace ever again. Not even surgeries would have rendered Sanne's teeth simple and pretty again, which was exactly the way the woman wanted it.

Well, not just a woman. A modern witch, of her kind, but someone entirely in control of herself. Unlike humanity.

“How would you like to look like you smoke a pack of cigarettes a day, girly?" The witch said, tutting and crossing her arms over her chest, taking on a more mocking tone. “Oh, dear… Yellow, crooked teeth… No one's going to kiss you with a mouth like that."

Her dress still hung down over her cock, hard and jutting out, even though Carl's mind and soul had been ejaculated from it not so long ago.

Sanne groaned, trying to hide her mouth, cheeks burning with shame as humiliation clawed its way down her neck. What was she doing to her? She was transforming, yes, but nothing like Matt and Carl! And she didn't know if she could have at all said if that was a bad thing, no, or if she wanted her old body back, lost to her but still “her" in some way.

Her head spun as she whipped around, so many people clustering in closer, pointing and jeering, laughing at her.

“Look at those brows!"

“Go on, Markie – give her a kiss!"

“I'd not be seen dead with someone like you!"

Sanne whimpered and quailed, yet the witch was still there, up front and centre, weaving her spell.

Her breasts softened, flatter and flatter until there was nothing at all left on her chest that looked like tit-flesh at all. She rubbed at them uselessly, trying to find the fat that had resided there and push it up into something that, in some small way, still resembled a breast. Yet Sanne's panic was entirely misplaced when all the witch truly was doing was making her ugly, someone that no one would ever want – for Sanne's personality had never shone like her looks had.

“Unff… No, please…"

She begged, but didn't know what she was begging for, not exactly. Not as she rubbed at her chest, her bare, flat chest, her nipples shrinking down too until they were nothing more than pale little bee-stings on her chest with not even a drop of colour to them. Her buttocks too wavered, feeling like they were deflating, the fat from them moving to her thighs to give her wobbling cellulite in big, rippling waves, her skin marked and stretched as if she had gained and lost weight several times over.

Yet her butt was flat, deflated and weak, barely even able to feel it back there when she tensed her butt muscles. She couldn't remember the name of those muscles; it had never mattered to Sanne before.

Her eyes watered, a wracking sob rising from her chest, hunching forward, shaking her head.

She'd had big, beautiful tits since she had grown them during puberty, her waist tucking in softly and giving her an easily feminine figure. They had always caught attention and she'd even seen the guys staring at her breasts from time to time, though Sanne only rolled her eyes at them back then. It didn't bother her, not when she knew how simple-minded they were. At least they didn't bother her about them, though she liked being with guys that appreciated her body, guys who knew how hot she was.

Her skin had always been smooth, perfect, with only the faintest brush of blonde hair on it, as if it had been lain there by an artist's brush. She'd never even needed to pluck her eyebrows, for the shape of them had always naturally complemented her face, while her collarbones had been sharp and angular, comfortably setting off her shoulders.

Even her buttocks had been thick and round – just enough to give her the shape to them she would have wanted but not so much that it would have changed the way she thought of her body. Sanne was not a sex object, after all, but a real person. They could have treated the witch like a real person too and things would have been better but, well, that ship had sailed.

Now, all that was gone, as if it had never been, her waistline thickening up, losing that sensual hourglass definition, her buttocks wide and yet flat at the back, giving her no shape to brag of.

“No… Please…" Sanne whimpered. “Please, don't do this to me!"

She cried, down on her knees, not even caring for how she scraped them up. What good was any of it when she was losing who she was? Sanne, well, anyone really, was tied to their appearance and there had always been cases for those who'd been disfigured in accidents no longer feeling at home in their skin, as if their body and face were no longer their own.

She felt like that too, all the changes in her body bubbling and gross. Although she'd never tried to work on her body really at all, not in exercising or trying to even take care of her skin, it was something Sanne had always taken for granted, as if it would always be present, one way or another.

Everything could be stripped away so easily however and Sanne howled, her body awkward and thicker than she was used to, even her centre of balance not where it should have been. Her calves were thick and ran into her ankles, but she couldn't do anything as a sense of finality settled over her.

To Sanne it may as well have been a funeral shroud, for her transformation had completed itself whether or not she had consented to any part of it in the first place. As she whimpered and wailed, pressing and grabbing at her body as if she could put all the parts that had moved back into place, the witch smirked down at her.

“There now…" She said. “You still get to live your life, in a way. See how you go through life without that pretty smile of yours to get you out of trouble. Girlie, you've got a lot of re-learning to do!"

Sanne wailed, staggering to her feet and nearly falling, trying to cover her crotch. Her tits just didn't need covering, for her chest was as flat as flat could be, hunkered over herself as she fled.

There was nothing else for her to do, the crowd whooping and jeering, pointing at her. Camera phones raised, flashes snapping, showing that the crowd was taking recordings and photos of her, even though it was a bright day.

Every detail and every nuance that the witch called on was to deepen her humiliation.

“Look at the whore go!"

“Oh, that's a face only a mother could love!"

“I'm not chasing after that, what are you?"

Sanne howled, disappearing into a car park, forgetting even her moped, which had tipped over on to its side, scraped up and scratched. It would have been a toss up as to whether it would even turn on again and start up, but she'd never find out. There were far bigger problems in her life to worry about as the crowd laughed and the witch let her dress cover her softened cock again, smoothing everything back down into place.

The crowd would only remember a fun day, not what they had done or who they had mocked, all a part of the witch's plan. For she needed to put them in her place, the troublemakers who had been catching her attention, and all she had needed to do was walk down the promenade, supposedly minding her own business.

And then she had caught her victims, ensnared them in her net, as neat as anyone could have liked. No one would ever say anything against her, that she had done wrong or that it had been the wrong decision.

For no one but her and Sanne would ever remember.

Leaving Sanne reduced to tears, hiding amongst the cars, she smiled and straightened.

The group had chosen the wrong person to harass that day. It had always been their choice to harass someone, yet the witch had put herself in their way regardless, stealing their flesh and their souls for her own use.

“They're serving a better purpose now."

And so they were.