Filth Ch 03

The silver crescent moon overhead cast pale gray light but Abigail noticed with faint alarm that the ground itself seemed to be glowing lavender, lighting her way. She shied away from the well-lit paths not just to hide her monstrous changes but also from an irrational fear of the blue arcs and nearly unbearable thrumming sound the lamps and electric poles gave off.

Thankfully, the campus was nearly empty and, as she approached the library, she knew it was she would find it nearly completely vacant; her sharp ears heard only a few people tapping away on computer keyboards. She peered into the huge glass entrance and nearly cursed at how hazy things seemed with her slowly failing vision. She missed the door handle on the first try and then realized she was taller than before. Distracted, she looked down her body to notice a gap between her skirt and sweater. Although her breath steamed in the night air, she hadn't felt the cold against her skin. She touched the bare skin carefully, her fingers playing through the coarse fur.

Her stomach was mostly tanned white skin with the exception of a line of thick fur leading up and around her belly button. She could see two rounded rough patches of skin on either side of her stomach, just barely visible from above her skirt. She touched one carefully, surprised at how bumpy it was. The area seemed a little swollen and sore but-

"Oh!" Abigail gasped. She'd brushed the center of the spot. Her nail flicked against a tiny pink bump of skin that struggled to grow erect at the sudden attention. "Oh. Oh, no."

Turning to hide herself from the glass entrance, Abigail lifted her sweater. Eight more little nipples lined her body, four on each side above those bottom nipples. Some of the areola had short black and brown hairs growing from tiny bumps dotting their surface. She gasped as a sudden wind sliced across her body and along her rows of nipples. She could

feel

the wind tugging at the fur on her belly, the hairs teasing her bare skin. Abigail pulled her sweater down, biting her lip against the aches of pleasure growing down her body. Blood dripped where her top teeth pierced her lip and the pain helped her regain focus.

"Running out of time," she gasped. Turning, she pulled the large glass door open and entered the library.

The young woman made her way into the library, hugging the wall to keep from prying eyes. The infernal hum she'd heard outside was far worse within the building. She could feel it deep in her bones and teeth and brain. Electricity popped and shrieked around her. With every step she left a large wet paw print from her bare feet. She found a computer in the corner and sat awkwardly, adjusting her large legs and ass until she was comfortable. Her skirt nearly broke from the strain of it.

Abigail logged in with her student ID and opened a browser window. She paused and then looked at the back of her right hand.

Slowly, she typed out a search:

Symbol star with rod down the middle horns at top and wings

The search engine returned a list of hits with example images lining the top. Two of the images were identical to the mark on her hand. With sweaty hands and her heart beating in her throat, she clicked on the first image. Her hand flew to her mouth at the result.

Beelzebub.

The word burned in her mind. She knew it from her church. From one of the many, many sermons dealing with damnation. A demon of Hell. A major demon. One of the many the congregation was told would be there to witness their if they walked the wrong path. Beelzebub, standing and laughing with horns and wings and bulbous eyes with lashing, barbed tail. Stabbing at those blown about in an endless wind. Those consumed by their lust above all things.

She read the articles, words swimming on the page as a slow headache began to build behind her eyes.

"Prince Baal," she whispered to herself, skimming the article. "Prince of ... of demons. Appears as an infer... infernal hu-human... humanoid fly. Sows chaos. Do... domin..." Abigail ground her teeth. Her headache was getting worse and the words wouldn't stay still. She leaned closer.

"Appears. Appears in the New," she continued. "And Old Testament. Said... have... No, said TO have... power... the power... to change anals... anal...

animals

... no, change men into..."

The words were blurred and rearranged. None of them made sense any more. Fear and a deep aching sadness radiated through her core. The young woman looked around herself but it was all the same. The words she could make out with her poor eyesight were just symbols. Lines arranged on papers and plaques and walls. Her headache began to dissipate the less she tried to read anything.

Tears dripped quietly onto Abigail's sweater. She sniffed once, twice and then sat silently crying in the small booth.

I have to confess,

she told herself.

It's the only way. It's the only way I can save myself.

Although she knew what she had to do, the thought was unbearably painful. Her church was unique. Unique and a three hour drive away. She knew that, even if she could drive in her current condition, that the changes were coming faster. She'd never make it in time.

"Jason," she whispered, hand creeping unnoticed to her thigh at the thought of him. She kneaded her furred leg.

If I confess to him and lay my sins bare to the one I've wronged, I can ask for forgiveness. Yes.

Yes.

It has to work. It

WILL

work.

Abigail padded through the old library, whiskers twitching while she fought the urge to drop to the ground like an animal.

-----

The young woman ran and, for a brief moment, experienced pure joy. She was so

fast

. Her clawed feet tore through the knot in her pantyhose and gave her thick, muscled legs purchase. She smiled wide as she tore past building after building, short tail working, fighting to help. Great chunks of sod flung out behind her. In one large stride, her skirt tore free and the young woman barely noticed. She felt drunk on exhilaration. She had a plan. She knew it would work. She would be saved. And she was so

incredibly

fast.

Along the way, Abigail's pantyhose lifted as her tail grew. The material bulged and then snapped back as her tail sprung free. One more inch. Two. Five. Her tail streamed behind her, thick as her wrist while it lengthened to nearly two feet. It lashed, flicking up as she hunched down to all fours for one brief moment. Panting, laughing, she stood again. Her heart beat a loud drum within her chest. She'd never run like this before. It wasn't ever proper. As a very small child, of course, but never as a teenager or adult. It was a waste of energy better used for chores.

Now. Now she knew what the horses must feel like when they ran. How free they must feel to push themselves as hard as they could. To feel the wind whistling around them. So incredibly free. How frustrated they must feel to run as hard and fast as they could, only to find a fence blocking them. Holding them back. Restraining them. Limiting their desires. She hissed in sympathetic pain while her own powerful legs drove her forward.

Abigail nearly tumbled to a stop when she reached her dorm. Her chest heaved with every breath. Despite the run, her heart beat a steady, healthy rhythm deep in her chest. Her legs ached to run more. She nearly whooped with glee at the pure adrenaline running through her body.

Bending over to catch her breath, she saw her tail dangling between her legs and her amusement was immediately crushed. Her pantyhose were a complete ruin, torn halfway to her shins. Thick fur covered both feet completely and the fur glistened wetly in the nearby light. Her paws were huge and covered with mud, blades of grass and tiny rocks. She rested an intense urge to groom herself and, instead, quickly brushed off what she could.

Her sweater was soaked with cold sweat and all twelve of her nipples were hard and sore. Abigail immediately retreated into a corner away from the dorm's outside light. She closed her eyes, listening carefully for signs of anyone still inside. She could hear someone that sounded like her upstairs neighbor. The voice was muted but it sounded like her. Another voice faded as a door on the other side of the building opened and then closed. And, that was it. She said a small prayer of thanks before making her way inside and to her room.

Quickly

, she told herself. Abigail stripped in the middle of her room - something she'd never consider doing before. Without a hint of a blush, she slid her pantyhose off and finally wondered where she'd lost her skirt. She pulled her sweater off, gasping as it slid against all of her new nipples. Finally, she undid her bra and then paused. Now she

did

blush but, still, forced herself to look. Her ten lower nipples were nearly flat against her body and ran all the way down to just below her waist. Her pubic hair was thick with fur and a heavy line of it run up her belly. She couldn't see her sex beneath all of the fur. Her legs were as muscular as she'd imagined. Large veins criss-crossed her thighs and calves, some covered by gray and brown fur.

More black lines stood out on her right arm, crawling in a spiral down to her elbow but she couldn't read it. With a whimper, she realized that she didn't know whether she couldn't read it because it was in some archaic script or because letters simply made no sense to her any more. Light brown hairs covered her forearms. She started to turn but then stopped herself to touch at a patch of thick gray fur between her human breasts. She sighed at the distinction of it.

Human

breasts versus the ones she'd use to feed a mass of furry newborn babes. Lying on her side while they-

No

, she thought, immediately clearing her mind of the thought.

Turning, she could see a bit of fur on the back of her shoulders and, of course, the tail. But she could

feel

that. It lay limp against her ass and legs but she could make it move with some thought and effort. She tried for a bit before her stomach roiled and she felt ill from it.

Quickly,

she reminded herself.

Abigail sat, arranging her tail to pool behind her on the bed. As carefully as she could, she tugged and pulled a new pair of pantyhose up over her paws and along her legs to nestle under her tail. The way the material slid against her fur was maddening and sent shivers along her body. She added a second pair of tights over the first and then tested them by walking around the room. Her claws cut through both but only the tips were visible and hard to notice. Or so she hoped.

My tail. What am I going to do about-

The young woman walked to her closet to pull out a small medical kit. She slid down her tights to expose her thighs and then pulled out a roll of medical tape. Attaching the end of the tape to her tail, she held it down and against her legs, winding the tape around both. Her hand brushed the tuft of fur covering her sex and she groaned, ignoring it to finish what she was doing. Around and around the tape went and her tail thrashed rebelliously while she secured it. The sensation was beyond odd. It was a part of her and she could move it when she focused but it also seemed to have a mind of its own. It bulged against the tape as if testing its bonds but the tape thankfully held.

Satisfied, she pulled her tights up and slid on a pair of long, black sweatpants. Although they were big for her human size, the bottoms of them stopped short several inches above her ankle. A new large sweater completed the outfit. She turned around, tugging her sweater down to cover her stomach and lower nipples. She smiled tremulously at her success before frowning at her feet. No shoes would fit her feet.

I have to chance it

, she thought to herself. She could almost feel herself forgetting things and her mind becoming simpler. Time was running short.

I'll just make something up if I have to. I'm still me. I'm still here and I'll be fine. I can do this.

On the way out, Abigail bent to grab a jelly filled donut from Sally's trashcan. Two flies buzzed away from it as she tore into it.

I'm still me,

she thought, satisfied. She cleaned her face with spit and the back of her hand as she made her way to the engineering building.

-----

Abigail knelt by the bushes at the corner of the house. Loud music boomed and the entire street was alive with people talking and laughing as they made their way to clubs and bars and homes. Her fur stood on end and she found herself hissing and grinding her teeth. Her jaw popped again, expanding minutely, pulling at her split lip. With more room to grow, her front teeth slid further from her jaw to even finer points.

"I can't do this," she whispered, pulling back as two young men passed. "I can't do this I can't do this." But, she imagined herself shrinking and shrinking until she was an ugly little rat scurrying around in garbage and her resolved firmed. Glancing around with four twitching whiskers and vibrating ears, she stood and quickly walked to the front door. Without a word, she opened it and slipped inside.

The music assaulted her ears, clawing into her brain until she could barely think. There were people

everywhere

and she almost fled back to the bushes. Fighting an insane urge to go to all fours and hide in a closet, Abigail pushed herself forward. Nobody was focused on her and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Immediately, she began searching faces, looking for Jason. Smells blended together and crashed with the strong scent of food and alcohol and something that made her head spin. The last smell was an incredibly heady mixture of sweet and salty and spicy and flowery that seemed a drive a spike straight through the center of her brain. Something loosened deep within her body and she twisted her strong thighs, feeling wetness against her the furred skin of her legs.

No panties,

she realized.

Stupid forgetful Abigail! And no bra, either! You Jezebel! You... you... brazen whore!

Hissing at herself, patchy fur completely on end in anger and frustration, she made her way into the living room. Despite the larger crowd, it was darker there and she could smell food. Her nose lifted, pointing to the kitchen as she passed. Food left out. Left out for a long time. Mixed together. Her mouth watered until she realized she was smelling food left in the garbage. She forced herself forward until she stood behind the long folding table holding large bowls of punch.

Jason was nowhere to be seen. She strained her ears, whiskers bristling anxiously. Although she found herself getting better at picking out individual sounds, Jason's voice was nowhere in the mix.

"Excuse me!" Abigail said loudly as a young girl with black hair stopped to fill up her punch. Jason had either lied or been unaware but both bowls were laced heavily with alcohol. The stench of it was overpowering to her. The girl turned to her, waiting. She had a nose stud and two rings in her lip. Abigail recoiled in disgust until she realized what she was right now. She wouldn't ever be judging anyone again. Not with the depths of the sin she was in. "Do you- do you know if Jason Foreman? Is here?"

"Who?" the girl yelled.

"Jason!" Abigail said, her voice cracking, raising higher pitched until she squeaked out the last part. "Jason Foreman!"

"No, I don't know him. Sorry!"

Abigail ground her teeth, hissing quietly as the girl left. She needed to get away from the alcohol but it was the only place she could stand to hide her legs and feet. The smell from the bowls wafted up continuously and she found it affecting her thoughts.

All I need is Jason. That's all. Just Jason. To come here. Talk. Talk to him. Confess him. That's all. Jason. I just-

The young woman's ears swiveled and her pulse sped as she caught a voice in the background.

Him! Jason! He's here! Jason!

Abigail's tail strained against the tape holding it in place. She found herself grinning like a fool or a small child waiting for a treat for being good. She chirped and squeaked in joy as she pictured him coming around the corner, looking for her. Of course he would be looking for her. He'd invited her here, after all. He'd be grinning with those happy eyes of his. He'd hug her just so, she knew he would. He'd hug her tight.

Squirming in place, Abigail pressed herself back against the wall. Her tail shifted to slip between her ass cheeks and fire raced up between her legs. Her chest burned.

He'd hug her tight and nip her on the neck. She knew it was just so. He'd kiss her chastely like friends do when they're happy to see each other. She'd bury her face in his shoulder, feeling his hairy chest against her face. He'd bite her ear with his teeth and pull her in again, smashing all of her breasts against his hard body.

Abigail's hand slid across her furred stomach and down under the band of her sweatpants. She rocked her hips back and forth, tail pressing against her asshole and sending shivers down her spine.

She'd squeak and chirp and writhe against him, grooming him fiercely. Licking along his furry chest. Cleaning him properly. He'd sigh and stroke her hair and fur and tell her how much he loved her. He'd gently push her head down further and further to his manhood.

Fingers touched her wet, swollen sex.

Her

fingers. Abigail gasped, sliding her fingers along the wet slit between her thighs. Her tights were soaked from her excitement and all twelve of her nipples were bright points of aching on her body. She chirped and ground her teeth, her thick tail pleasuring her asshole while she fingered herself. A fingernail popped off of her right hand, forced off as her little claws began to grow forth. A second fingernail. A third. More. One by one her claws grew in and she ripped tears into the crotch of her tights. Knuckles popped in her fingers as muscles shifted, forcing her fingers longer. Gray-ish fur sprouted from the backs of her hands, covering the black mark. A finger slid between her folds and she moaned.

Jason. With her. Jason. Hers. Jason. Jason. Jason.

Grunting, Abigail slipped a second finger inside of her tight, wet pussy. Her fur was soaked from her excitement and the smell of it drove her wild.

"No, I-" A loud fragment of Jason's voice broke through her haze and she froze.

What? What am... oh, oh no,

she thought, horrified. Her furred bush was exposed beneath her sweats and she could feel herself dripping. She could smell herself. The scent of her sex covered her hand and thighs.

Jason! Almost here! If he smells, oh no, if he smells...

Abigail glanced around, panicked. His voice was getting closer. Sure that nobody was watching, she dipped her clawed fingers into the punch bowl. She rubbed her fingers together quickly before pulling them back out. Vodka, juice and her own cum dripped from her furry hand.

Good. Good girl,

she told herself.

Smart girl.

And, then, there he was. Jason walked in with a friend, talking about classes he was taking. He looked up and smiled at her, just as she knew he would. She grinned back, chirping quietly in happiness. Her tail writhed against her leg, pulling painfully at the tape.

"Abigail!" Jason said. "Glad you could make it! Hey, Jerry, I'll catch up with you later, yeah? Have you been here long?"

"No!" Abigail said cheerfully. Her face clouded, suddenly unsure. "Oh. But. Can talk?"

"Yeah, of course," Jason answered. "Everything okay?"

"No. Yes? Maybe no. Somewhere quiet?"

Jason stared at Abigail for a moment, puzzled by her behavior. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. Here, there's a spare bedroom this way."