[Patreon Exclusive] WEREWOMAN: Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Chapter 3

I was over the hill and nearly back at that intersection when someone came running up behind me. I spun around quickly and braced myself, thinking I was about to be pounced again. But the man running towards me stopped about ten feet away. He had a long, thick beard and long, coarse hair. “You were the man who ran away,” he said.

I let my body relax as I realized he wasn’t there to attack me—at least not yet. “Why?” I asked.

“I was there. We shot your friend. Believe me, it was for his own good, and your own good, too.” The man’s eyes were dark.

“What? Why?” I took a few steps back, ready to run in case he charged me.

“That wasn’t a woman that attacked your friend. It was a man with a horrible curse—a curse that spreads from victim to victim. That curse has haunted these Lowlands for decades.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I took another few steps back.

“The cursed transform. The curse possesses them and they go out to find more victims. It’s like a craving that grows stronger and stronger the longer they go without finding a victim. When that craving grows strong enough, they’ll do anything, even if it means killing. It starts at the full moon, but then the transforming becomes more and more frequent, until the cursed stop turning back into themselves. We saved your friend from a lifetime of suffering—believe me.”

I didn’t believe the man at first, and then the memory of that strange naked corpse came to my mind—a woman one second, and then a deceased man the next. The man’s bizarre story lined up with what I’d seen, but it was still too outrageous to really believe. It defied every law of nature, everything we know about science—but so did that transforming corpse.

“Just consider yourself lucky the curse didn’t get you, and get out of here. Never tell anyone about this place. Go on. Go. And don’t come back.” He waved me away. I hesitated a moment, and then I turned to leave. He stood there and watched to make sure I was really leaving—and I really was. I had no intention to stick around that place, regardless of whether he was telling me the truth or not. Either that town really was cursed and therefore I wanted nothing to do with it, or it was filled with lunatic murderers, and then I really wanted nothing to do with it.

I hiked through the night and I didn’t stop until my legs were wobbling and I was practically falling asleep while walking. The sun was peering over the grassy hills when I found a spot in the grass and I went to sleep. I reached Edinburgh the next day, but still had nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep, nothing to eat, no money in my pockets. So I found myself at yet another homeless shelter, going to the US embassy every morning to see whether my new passport had arrived, so I could have some ID to take to the bank to get into my bank account, so I could get a plane ticket home. I spent a week at that Edinburgh homeless shelter.

And then the full moon came.

I was out for a walk when my head started pounding. I’d never experienced a migraine before, but I imagine this was worse. I grabbed at my head in an attempt to quell the pain, but putting pressure on the pain did nothing. My head was throbbing. People were looking at me as if I were some lunatic having a mental breakdown.

I started feeling pain in other parts of my body: my face, my chest, my crotch, my hips. There was a strange burning sensation all over my skin. I wanted to scream for help but I had a bad feeling I knew what was happening, even though I was sure it was impossible. Instead of calling for help, I stumbled away from the crowd, into an alleyway. Everyone must have thought I was a drug addict having a bad trip. Once I was out of sight, I dropped to my knees.

The pressure in my chest was intense. It felt like my ribcage was bursting, like my skin was being pulled and stretched. I pulled off my shirt to see what the hell was happening. My chest was swelling, as if I was having the worst-ever allergic reaction. And then, as I grabbed at my chest, I noticed my fingers were shrinking and narrowing. There was a strange pain in my hands, but I didn’t notice it until that moment, on top of all the rest of the pain in my body.

I bit down on my tongue and did my best not to scream. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I knew no one could help me. I knew I would just end up being a spectacle, a freak show. I knew what was happening, no matter how badly I wanted to believe otherwise. I was becoming a woman. It was the curse. Between the rooftops of the tall buildings that stood next to me I could see the moon, bright and full, shining down on me. How was it possible? I had no idea—but it was happening.

I looked down at my chest again. I had breasts. They were still filling out, and the pain was beginning to subside. My hands were smaller. My whole body felt smaller, and my pants were suddenly tight, as if my hips had widened. I reached down the waistband of my pants and then I froze. My cock was gone and I could feel the subtle lumps of my pussy lips. I jumped to my feet and looked down at my body. I’d transformed. Even the hair on my arms had thinned out, and my scruffy facial hair was all over the alley ground; it had fallen off of my face.

I ran out from that alley and ran to the first parked car I could spot. I looked at myself in the window reflection, and then I looked at myself in the side view mirror. My face was completely different. My features were smaller and softer. My eyes seemed bigger. My hair even looked softer. I closed my eyes and pinched my arm, hoping to wake myself up from my nightmare. But I could feel the pain and I didn’t wake up—there was no nightmare to wake up from. It was real. I’d actually transformed into a woman.

“Do you mind?” a man said. He was the owner of the car, giving me a strange look.

“I—I’m sorry,” I said, taking a step back. I looked into the man’s eyes. He was handsome, wearing a nice suit, with a nice haircut. He looked successful, and charming. The more I looked at him, the more handsome I realized he was. I felt a tingling between my legs as I watched him walk around his car. He had a nice car. “Can I help you?” he asked, looking disturbed by my staring.

“I don’t know, can you?” I said, smiling and winking. I caught myself doing it and I froze up. What did I just say? Did I just come onto him? Was I flirting with him? Was I in control of myself.

He just looked at me strangely for a moment and then he got into his car. I reached for his passenger door handle and I gave it a tug. It was locked. The window rolled down just slightly. “Get away from my car, you lunatic,” the man said, and then he drove off. It was too bad because I really wanted him to fuck me.

I wanted him to what? My head was spinning. I wanted him to fuck me? What had gotten into me? I looked around. There was another man—younger but still quite handsome—walking down the street. I could tell he had a nice body under his suit. He looked like the type of guy who hung out at the gym. God, did I ever want him to hold me down with his big muscles and fuck me senseless with his big cock. I wanted to drop to my knees and suck his cock until he came five times in my mouth. I would have let him bend me over and fuck me in the ass, if that’s what he wanted. I just wanted that big dick, however he wanted to give it to me.

He looked over at me and caught me staring. He gave me a strange look. I probably looked like a vagrant. I was wearing dirty clothes that I hadn’t washed since getting them from the homeless shelter almost two weeks before. My hair was all tangled and messy, and there was probably visible dirt on my face.

If I was going to have a chance with any of these men, I was going to need to clean myself up, which meant clean clothes, a hot shower, and a bit more self-control. The self-control was going to be the real challenge, seeing as I was feeling hornier and hornier with each passing minute. The younger man said hello to me as he passed, and I swear I could feel my panties beginning to dampen. I wanted to grab him and stick my tongue in his mouth, feel his hard muscles, stroke off his big dick. But I bit my tongue and stopped myself.