The rain which beat against the dirty windows of the forest home was echoed in the steady dripping of water off a miserable girl’s sodden clothes. Her name was Rachael, and she came to the home in the woods she knew of only in hushed, angry whispers to end her life. The object of that desire sat across from her in a wooden chair creaking with age. The flames of the fire behind Rachael cast the woman before her in flickering light and shadow. The woman was a witch, it was said; and Rachael had no reason to believe that rumor untrue.
Yet, the woman resting her head in her hand and gazing at Rachael through half-lidded brown eyes was far different from the nastiest of tavern talk. Her skin was not green, but instead soft and glowing in the light. She had a wide, wartless nose, and her black locks of hair were combed and shined in the firelight. It was only the way she tapped her fingers upon her cheek in an alien rhythm and how her eyes carried no light when casting a hungry gaze upon Rachael that gave her away.
“Do you speak?” The witch’s voice rolled over Rachael like snowmelt down a mountain. “Do you have your tongue, girl? If not, are you interested in a new one?”
Rachael shook her head, and then upon realizing that did not help her case croaked, “I can talk,” she said in a raspy voice the fault of her father’s yellow-purple handprints on her throat. “My name is Rachael.”
The woman leaned closer, reaching out a hand towards Rachael’s face who flinched and caused the witch to shrink back. “I see. You are injured, little bird.”
“Yes.” Rachael did not bother to deny it.
“May I look?” the witch said. Her hard gaze softened for a moment.
Rachael nodded. The witch scraped her chair closer across the scarred wooden floor and placed a hand on Rachael’s chin. With a gentleness uncommon to Rachael’s life, the witch softly tilted her head into the light. The flames illuminated what the girl had spent her life hiding: a crooked nose for too often bringing dinner late, healed scars for taking too much time talking to others in the village, and fresh bruises for attending the harvest festival dance. Rachael, exposed, began to whimper and the witch’s touch fell away.
Her mouth remained a hard line. “I cannot kill whoever did this. You must know that.”
Rachael nodded. “Yes.”
“Then why have you interrupted my tea on this autumn night to spray water on my floors and drip blood upon my hand?”
The girl stared at her hands on her lap. Her hands clenched a dead phone, its screen cracked from her journey. “I had no other place to go.”
The witch gazed at the small thing in front of her. “I do not rent my home as an airbnb.” Her voice filled the room. “And I do not take pity cases for free.”
“I know,” said the pitiless thing in the chair.
The small thing cowering in the witch’s gaze did not immediately answer, instead only scraped its feet against the floor. “You kill people, don’t you?” it said in a little voice.
“Yes,” the witch said. “I have told you once already, I cannot kill on commission, it is not-”
“You kill and you eat people,” the frightened girl who had named herself Rachael squeaked. “You eat them and you drink their blood, don’t you? Or you turn them into monsters.”
Lightning flashed through the home’s windows. A grin materialized on the witch’s face as she gave the answer that the girl who claimed to be Rachael had known all along: “Yes, I do.”
Thunder roared outside walls as thin as the legs of the girl who boldly claimed to be Rachael. “Is that it? You wanted to know so that you could tell your friends?” the witch continued. “This truth will not set you free, little girl.”
Rachael, truly Rachael framed by the brilliant glow of the fire, smiled in return. “I am not here to ask you for death to my enemies,” she said. “I am here to ask you for my own.”
“Interesting.” The witch laid her chin on folded hands. “Do tell me more.”
“I do not have a life of my own,” Rachael said. “I have neither friends nor lovers nor job nor freedom. I am kept in a room in my father’s house and I am to do as he says. If I do not…” She let her scars speak for her.
The witch waved a hand. “Yes, yes, I hear sob stories all the time. Why not run off with the first man who will take you?”
Rachael fought with herself to not drop her gaze. “My father says that allowing me to live these past twenty years is a mercy, though in his drunkenness he confesses it is a mistake,” she continued. “I cannot bear children nor be married off to a man.” She scratched at her throat and the terrible, horrible, revealing bump that lay there. “I am different.”
“You are transgender.”
The witch looked over Rachael once more in this new light, at the ragged clothes and tattered sneakers she wore, and smiled wide enough to bare her teeth. “Interesting.”
“So now you may see why I came to you,” Rachael said. “Wanted by no employment nor suitor and with my father’s moods getting worse, I thought it better to die at the hands of the only woman who would agree to do so than for me to wait for my father to do the job himself.”
“I see.” The woman stood and her shadow followed, forming into a dress which clung to every curve of her body. She strode forward on feet that did not quite touch the ground and pressed her face into Rachael’s view. “You have come to me and all my power to ask me to do the job a simple noose may do. Are you truly too afraid to do it yourself?”
“No, that’s not-”
“Or,” said the witch relishing every word, “were you secretly hoping that I may find a better use for you?”
Rachael did not respond and the witch laughed. “Don’t bother, I can tell the answer in your eyes.”
“No, that’s not it!” Rachael shouted. She flew up from her chair. Now it was her turn to cast her gaze upon the witch. “I am not afraid of death. I have longed for it and wished for it for years. What I am afraid of is dying a useless death. Of…of dying at my father’s hand and being buried a ‘worthless faggot’ under a name that is not my own!”
Rachael’s teeth gleamed beneath salty tears. “I would rather be killed by a witch and my blood used to cast spells that will kill everyone in that entire fucking town than spend one more day being pushed around and beaten for daring to live as I am.”
The witch stepped back and clapped her hands. Electric lights flickered to life and bathed the room in an artificial glow. For all the woman’s posturing, her living room and the kitchen behind it were almost boring in their normalcy. Well-worn sofas adorned with knitted blankets and frayed rugs faded with age covered the living room floor. The kitchen contained a great old stove and hand-carved table that stood near a modern refrigerator while carpeted stairs on the other side of the living room led upwards.
“Not what you expected?” asked the witch.
Rachael shook her head. “Not really.”
A small grin. “Good girl for not lying.” The woman put her hands on her hips. Rachael could now see her dress was, in reality, a silky black nightgown. “It is not traditional, but I prefer my small comforts to a consistent aesthetic.”
The witch’s face was bright but in her eyes was only the same darkness. “I am a bad person, Rachael, a terrible person who has done many terrible things.” She stepped forward. “But I treat my possessions well.”
Rachael did not have time to answer before the witch turned and walked towards the narrow, winding staircase. “You may call me Nora,” she said and disappeared up the stairs.
It was not without a small hesitation that Rachael followed the witch Nora up the stairs, but she did so all the same. For a home which looked for all the world like a single story from the outside, the winding carpeted stairs took ages to climb. Rachael’s breath was ragged by the time she reached the top and she clung to the hand rail to stay upright. She kept her eyes only ahead to the room the stairs led her rather than looking down at the splatters of blood stained into the carpeting.
The room which Rachael emerged into was lit with candles and a fireplace connected to the one downstairs. It contained the largest bed Rachael had ever seen covered in black blankets and pillows while a variety of books, shelves, chairs, and more sinister implements were strewn about. The witch sat on the bed awaiting Rachael’s appearance.
“Good, I was hoping you would follow,” Nora said.
Rachael shrugged her good shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I am a murderer.” Nora grinned and patted the bed beside her. “Come, if you are not afraid.”
Rachael did not hesitate. This deep into the dark waters, she wanted to see the bottom. She walked across an immaculately clean rug and sat on the bed beside the witch. “I am not afraid,” she said.
Nora placed an arm around her shoulder. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” Rachael said.
“I have killed many people, you know.”
“As you keep saying.” Rachael looked up at the witch.
Nora laughed. “Repetition does bring normalcy, you are right.” Her hands stroked Rachael’s cheeks. “I could do whatever I want with you now.”
Rachael nodded. “I know.”
“I could hurt you.”
“I could make death into an escape. I could rape you, I could torture you, I could beat you and hurt you far worse than your father ever could.”
Nora raked her fingernails over one of Rachael’s bruises. The girl hissed as the witch drew blood from the battered flesh. “And yet you are not afraid?” Nora licked Rachael’s blood from her fingers.
Rachael seized the witch’s hand and brought a finger covered in her own blood to her mouth. She slid her mouth over the clawed digit and drank from it until it was clean when Nora retracted it. “I am already in hell,” Rachael said. “What is there to do but find out my punishment?”
For once, the witch looked excited. “Now that is something I can work with, little bird.” Nora brought Rachael forward into her hands that rested gently on each side of her face. “I cannot bring you justice, I cannot give you mercy, but a fitting punishment for a wretched girl? That I am more than capable of.”
“What will you do to me?” Rachael asked. She licked a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth.
Nora stroked the girl’s cheek where a bruise had marred the flesh since Rachael arrived. Where Nora pressed her fingers, the skin healed itself and left no trace of the girl’s father and his hate. “I could make you mine. Would you like that, little bird?”
Rachael nodded. “More than anything.”
“Are you sure?” Nora traced her long fingers through the girl’s unkempt red hair. “I cannot make you beautiful, nor give you the body you seek. I can only make you as ugly as my own heart.”
“Would I still be yours?” Rachael asked.
Nora nodded. “For eternity.”
Rachael put her hand in Nora’s. “What would I be?”
“Would I be powerful?”
“Yes,” the witch said.
“As a monster will I be treated as a man?”
Nora smiled. “Never.”
“What will I look like?” Rachael’s heart pounded in her chest.
“I don’t know, what form each person takes is different,” Nora said. “We will only find out when you transform, but…”
Rachael tilted her head. “But?”
“But you will be large and powerful. You will be beautiful and awful. Your teeth will rend flesh and your stomach will fill with your enemies. You will be as feared as I and twice as bloodthirsty.”
“I see,” Rachael said. She leaned her head into Nora’s hand and sighed with a blush on her healed face. “I want that. Please, make me your monster. Whatever the pain, leaving my life behind for this is a mercy.”
“Good girl,” Nora said. She leaned forward and with her hands grasping Rachael gave her a kiss. The girl hesitated from shock but quickly leaned into the witch’s embrace. Nora parted Rachael’s lips with her tongue and bit at the girl’s cheek until she drew blood, which she eagerly sucked down.
Nora drew back and smiled. “With a bloody kiss, your fate is sealed.” She stood and offered a hand to Rachael. “Come, let us make you into the monster I have longed for.”
The girl stood and took Nora’s hand. The witch’s skin was warm and soft. She held Rachael up on her shaking knees and led the girl to the center of the room, away from any furniture. “To give you enough room to change,” Nora told her, sliding her hands over Rachael’s shoulders.
Rachael looked at herself in the dresser mirror across the room. Her skin had healed and her eyes had a sign of life in them. Even her clothes did not look as miserable before. If this was a taste of what the witch could do, Rachael hungered for more. “I am ready,” she said.
“Good,” said Nora. “Now, let’s get these rags off of you. There will be no need for them when we are done here.”
The witch’s hands raked down Rachael’s back and tore through the ragged cloth as if it were little more than paper. The remains fell to the floor and Rachael caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her chest was achingly flat and her stomach a cave of flesh and bone. Some dark hairs remained where she had not waxed them to oblivion. Rachael shuddered but did not look away.
Satisfied with the girl’s reaction, Nora continued with the pants. What had once been an oversized pair of jeans were ripped from Rachael’s body and took her underwear with it. A couple more tears indicated that Rachael no longer was wearing shoes. She was at last naked before the witch and wrapped her in her embrace.
The person who stared back at Rachael felt alien. She was a thin and shaken girl with old scars and unshaven hair on her legs and an uncomfortably large thing hanging between her thighs. It made her whimper.
“There now, you see? This is who you are,” Nora said. “You are a girl far too used to rejecting the reflection before you. Look now, you are mine. Do not turn away from my possession. You are a girl belonging to me and I will make you beautiful.”
A smile crept to Rachael’s face. She was in the arms of evil, yet they welcomed her. She leaned back against Nora’s chest and kept looking at the mirror. “How does it begin?” she asked.
Nora placed a small bite on Rachael’s ear. “I must draw blood, and then we’ll begin the fun.”
Rachael nodded and steadied herself. Behind her, she could feel the witch’s hand trail up her spine before striking: a single line down Rachael’s back. The girl yelped; Nora’s finger dug deep into her flesh and she could feel blood seep from the wound.
Nora held her steady. “You will heal in time,” she said. Rachael could hear her licking her fingers.
Rachael shivered as Nora’s bloodied hand crept around her waist. It trailed down her crotch before grasping what lay there. The witch kissed her neck. “Now the fun part begins.” Nora’s finger grasped and grabbed at the invader which marked Rachael apart from the girls she so wished to join. Yet when the witch held the lengthy member in her hands, Rachael for once did not turn away.
“It is a pity this has gone to waste,” Nora gasped. “You have a beautiful cock, little bird. Have you used it before?”
“Only for myself,” Rachael admitted.
A displeased hmph. “We will fix that, no possession of mine goes unused.”
The witch enclosed the veined shaft in her fingers and Rachael shivered. Her member responded on its own, growing and throbbing to Nora’s touch. Her cock was too large for a single hand to wrap all the way around it, what the girl had once thought to be a cruel irony of fate. Yet now that a beautiful woman stroked over her bulging need and wiped the clear wetness which she produced, Rachael wasn’t so sure. A groan escaped her lips, and then another.
“There you go my dear,” Nora gasped into her ear. “Do not fight it. Let the pleasure break you, let it tear your mind synapse by synapse. You are my girl and my girl’s cock belongs to me.”
Rachael nodded, breathless, and watched the hand dipped in her own blood stroke her bulging cock until another burst of precum was freed. This was greater than what she could have expected, and darkness swam before her eyes. Faintly, Rachael was aware more was happening than just the witch’s touch. When she curled her toes, claws at the end dug into the floor. When Nora slid a finger on her free hand into her rear hole, Rachael could feel the witch having to move aside the beginnings of a tail. And when Rachael moaned next it was not in a voice she recognized, but one that was distorted by a jaw full of sharp teeth.
Yet it was the beating of her heart that Rachael noticed most. It pounded in her chest in time with the throbbing of her cock in Nora’s deft fingers. Every time the witch sped up, so did the warmth in her chest. It was a slow ache and burn, but grew the closer she came to releasing. It was a star being born in her chest and begging to burn its way free.
“It hurts!” Rachael cried. Her voice sounded slurred and far away. Was it even hers anymore?
Nora pumped her finger in Rachael’s ass and bit her shoulder while her warm hand continued to stroke the girl’s cock that seemed to only keep growing. “It will hurt very much,” she growled, “but your reward will be everything you dreamed.”
There was nothing more Rachael could do but nod. Her mouth could no longer make words as it was not hers anymore. When she looked in the mirror she saw a muzzle and yellow eyes staring back. Her hips bucked and the fiery pain in her chest grew. Without any words, Rachael raised her head and screamed.
At last, Rachael’s massive and beautiful cock sprang forth as a fountain of cum rushing out of her. In Nora’s grasp, she bent over and howled as her balls emptied themselves on the floor. Thick spunk splashed over the rugs, the bare wood, and Rachael’s furry hind legs.
When it was finished, Rachael stood and blinked. She was taller than Nora by several heads and rested easily on muscled legs covered in thick brown fur. Rachael looked down. Her chest protruded with muscle while six pink teats decorated her middle. Below, a massive and leaking monstrous penis marked the space between her legs.
“How does it feel?” Nora asked.
Rachael opened her mouth, then clumsily snapped it shut. There were too many teeth and her tongue didn’t work right. Instead, she wagged her tail.
Nora laughed. Her eyes shone with life. “Perfect!” she crowed. The witch lifted a hand and rubbed one of the curled horns emerging from the side of Rachael’s new head. “What a perfect monster you have become, and all mine. A familiar at last.” Nora sighed and put her bloody hand over her heart. “Now, dearest, do you remember your name?”
Without speech, Rachael nodded.
“Good, I was hoping you would,” Nora said. “Do you remember your family?”
Who? Rachael grasped for memories before coming to this house, but found none. She shook her head.
Nora clapped. “Marvelous! Do you remember your pledge to me?”
Rachael nodded, it was clear as day.
“That’s a good girl,” Nora said and smiled when Rachael’s tail wagged. “You are now, my dear, a monster. And what a beautiful monster we have made! You are a wonderful beast, a girl that I have dreamed of for longer than you have been alive.” Nora’s hand gently scratched beneath Rachael’s jaw. “The hard part is over, little bird. No one will harm you ever again. You will be my familiar and together we will do so many things.”
Nora flashed her teeth. “To begin with, we will start a family.”
Confused, Rachael tilted her head to the side.
Nora petted her cheek. “Now don’t worry, sweet beast. You are still my beautiful girl, mighty and terrible. But a witch has needs, and so you shall sire my family with the gift between your legs. Can you do that for me?”
Rachael nodded and Nora kissed her cheek. “Good girl,” the witch told her. Then, she stepped away from the beast girl and readied herself.
With a wave of the witch’s hand, her dress slid off her shoulders and to the floor. With nothing under it, Nora was as bare as Rachael. The beast girl gazed at her new owner with yellow eyes that traced every curve. The witch’s body was deathly pale, almost gray. She had no breasts on her chest, only a bare rise of muscle. There were what looked like scales on her hips and sides and a slit between her legs that seemed too large for her form. Hanging from just above her rear was a tail bare and smooth where Rachael’s was furry and curled.
Nora looked at Rachael with a new face: a nose reduced to slits, a mouth too wide for a human, and red eyes burning with need. “I am sorry for concealing my form,” Nora apologized. “In truth, I am not a real witch. Merely a witch’s pet who took her place upon her death. Had I tried, I never could have made you anything but another monster.” Even the voice of the serpentine witch had changed into a guttural rasp.
“I hope you will forgive me,” she said.
Rachael walked to her new owner and wrapped her arms around her. With a powerful grip, she pulled Nora into a hug and held her there. The serpent woman seemed at first surprised, but then returned the hug as wordlessly as Rachael. Their tails wrapped around each other in a mirrored embrace.
At last, Nora broke away with a genuine grin. “If my new familiar still wishes, I would be glad to begin making a family tonight.” She bowed her head. “I am perhaps not what you bargained for, and neither are you to me. Yet I believe we can make one another happy. I am a bad person, you are a good person, and still we are both labeled monsters.” Nora used one clawed hand to brush Rachael’s cheek. “So let us start a new family of monsters so that we may never need their approval again.”
With a nod from Rachael, Nora moved to the bed. She laid flat on her back with her legs spread and beckoned her familiar over. Rachael didn’t think twice and ambled over on awkward paws and stood before the witch on the bed.
Nora reached down and spread her lips with two fingers. “I know you are new to this, my beast, but the instincts flowing through you are not. Trust them, they will know what to do.”
Rachael climbed the bed. Its iron frame groaned in protest, but held. Her heart beat again in need and the cock between her legs rose to life. It was much larger than before, covered in pulsing veins, and ended in a fat, drippy tip. It was unfamiliar and it was also the best Rachael had ever felt about having an erection.
There in front of her lay Nora. The witch had her legs spread wide and her hands reaching out, grasping, pulling at Rachael to climb atop her. The beast girl didn’t hesitate. Her body screamed for her to follow her instincts, to breed, and Rachael gave herself away to them. With a shudder, she slid her member against Nora’s slit.
Nora groaned and Rachael howled with her. Their warmths met and pushed together as Rachael’s dripping cock slid into Nora’s wet pussy. The mind that was Rachael slid away. Her body, the body of a beast, took over. The beast snarled and laid heavily atop the witch. That beast pinned Nora’s arms and pounded its crotch against hers. Balls laden with cum and covered in fur slapped wetly against Nora’s smooth body.
The witch did not fight it. She looked up at Rachael and whispered, “Good girl.”
The beast and Rachael together reached down and opened their maw. Their teeth bit into the witch’s shoulder and held. They bit down. Powerful jaws sank dozens of razors into the witch’s soft body.
Nora howled and laughed as her blood spilled into the beast’s mouth. “Drink from me!” she cried. “As I have taken your lifeblood, take my own. Bind yourself to me. Accept me into your body as I do the same.” With that, she rolled her hips to bring Rachael deeper inside.
Hungry eyes met the witch’s. In their thirst, the beast and Rachael lapped at the blood they spilled and bit again and again. With every thrust into Nora’s embrace they bit harder. The witch only encouraged them. Her legs wrapped around their hips and pressed them forward. Take me, the gesture said. Breed me.
The claws of the beast dug into Nora’s arms, fangs bit her neck, and the weight of a lifetime pent up emptied inside the witch. The cum that flowed into the witch was the release of Rachael as a human. It flowed warm and thick into Nora’s soaked slit and spilled over.
A hip thrust, then another, and another again. The urge to breed overcame Rachael. There was nothing of her left that had been a human, that had been an abused girl at her father’s hand. Her howls were that of a beast and monstrous was the seed she planted in Nora’s waiting body. And with that, at last, Rachael collapsed on her owner.
When calm returned to the room, Nora caressed her familiar’s muzzle. The beast looked back at her with eyes empty of pain. The witch smiled to herself. Much of that girl would be gone now, but what harm was that? “You are beautiful, sweet girl,” Nora cooed. “You will find an animal’s life to suit you well. No more pain or suffering of being human, only the release of the beast.”
Nora rubbed her belly. Perhaps this one would take, or maybe they would need to try many more times. It did not matter. The witch, at last, had what she wanted and all the world lay before them. Her eyes traced Rachael’s rippling muscles and jaws like iron. Yes, her parents soon would be safely torn to shreds and the village burned. And then?
“And then, we will have our family,” Nora whispered to no one but herself. The rain continued to beat against her home, but for once could not find a purchase with the warmth inside where tired monsters slept.