By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for BobbyBoi105

When a group of four college men on holiday end up stranded on a deserted island because of a freak storm, rescue seems hopeless. Thankfully, there is plentiful fruit on the island for them to eat, but the more they eat, the more they start to change: first becoming women, and then becoming a lot more suitable for the water. Will these new sharkgirls embrace their new forms or try to escape them?

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Part 3: Sharkbite

Where they had once been four men, there were now four women. That was a hard fact to accept, but as the days continued, each of them slowly adapted. This wasn’t to say they accepted what had happened to them, or that they became used to their bodies. Far from it! Tyson complained repeatedly about how his ass jiggled when he moved about, while Diego uttered a sentence no one expected to ever hear: “When I get horny now, I smell like the girls I used to sleep with. That’s like a pig smelling pork when it wants to have sex. It’s fucked up.”

Peter improvised a wrap around his breasts to cover them up and keep them from bouncing too much, and the other men did the same to varying degrees of success. For the now mega-busty Lachlan, this was an actual necessity. Tyson, whose girlfriend Gabriella was quite busty, estimated out loud that they were “bigger than my Gabby’s E-cups. You’ve probably got big ole F-cups, man.”

Lachlan groaned at this. “Great! Now my father will never let me inherit his wealth or his company! I look like the kind of girl you see in Scandinavia when you go for a holiday there!”

“Never had the opportunity,” Peter remarked, and Diego smirked at this. “Look, we’re all women now. We’ve all got pussies. We’re just going to have to deal with that and keep on working.”

“I’m not even strong like I was before!” Tyson complained. “I mean, I’m fit for a girl, but I’m shorter and I haven’t got my footballer frame, dude. What am I supposed to do?”

“Take longer to get the physical work done,” Peter declared, “but still get it done.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re the only one here who grew taller and put on muscle mass.”

Peter blushed at this. It was embarrassing to end up in the body of a hot, curvy brunette version of herself and yet still be stronger and fitter than her male form. She had her hair tied in a loose ponytail and was wearing improvised clothing with no access to makeup, and yet she still looked like some kind of sexy workout girl on the beach or something.

“Look, I had it bad compared to you guys when I was a man, okay? I was shorter, scrawnier, and definitely poorer. But I did my part to keep up. Now you can do it. Stop being whiny bitches.”

At this, Tyson actually chuckled. “Okay, now if that’s not a challenge, I don’t know what is! And hey, at least we eat this delicious fruit without any more fear, right? What am I gonna get, a bigger ass? Good luck with that!”

The yacht was taking shape, and Diego had found a good cove where the launch would be best. They were stocking up on fruit supplies now, but it was all an arduous process, and after a storm hit after two weeks or so upon the island, they had to work to repair their shelters, which was more difficult given their girly muscles.

“I better not get a fucking period while I’m here,” Lachlan complained. “I swear, I’m never buying a yacht again. Diego, everyone, we’re going to France next time. Or the Netherlands. Just get stoned together and go to the red light district and whore around with the ladies.”

“We look like we belong in the red light district,” Peter said, which got them laughing again.

The mood was increasing again. Yes, they were women, and yes, it occasionally got each of them down (especially Tyson), but their isolation and the sense that the damage was ‘done,’ so to speak, managed to calm them quite a bit. Being former boys, they teased one another about their body parts, and Lachlan even showed off her large, ripe breasts and bragged about how she was the best looking as a man, and now the best looking as a woman. 

“As if!” Tyson declared, shaking his backside. “Baby here got back!”

“Well, I got the hips,” Diego bragged.

Peter just gestured to herself. “Well, I may not have the best of anything in particular, but I’ve got the best everything, wouldn’t you say?”

It was true. She had hips, tits, ass, and an hourglass figure and pair of legs that would have made them drool if they were still attracted to women. That was the other thing they didn’t mention; the fact that they clearly had heterosexual thoughts . . . from a woman’s point-of-view. Peter occasionally masturbated for the sheer pleasure of it, and her thoughts turned to attractive men. It was humiliating, but she needed to get off. She knew, from the loud moans from other shelters, that her friends were doing the same, but by unspoken agreement they said nothing. They simply tried to enjoy the parts of being women they had always been curious about. They made their jokes, they adapted as best as they could, and when their transformation got them down a little too much, they did their best to hype one another up or shift the conversation to football or movies or attractive ex-girlfriends.

The four were almost ready with the yacht by the time they’d reached an equilibrium. They had been on the island for over a month now, and been women for over two weeks. Peter had become their default leader and Diego their resident expert. They were close to escaping. They could feel it.

And that was when they started developing scales and shark teeth.

Lachlan was the first to gain them, or perhaps he was just the first to notice. Being the most self-obsessed individual of the four, the new blonde bombshell was constantly bemoaning how she had to go do her business in the bush, how she always ended up with dirt on her skin, and how much sweat ended up beneath her big boobs by the end of the day. Because she was constantly inspecting herself, she came running to the group on the beach as they were assembling their yacht one morning, having demanded her ‘beauty sleep’ before getting up.

“Guys! Everyone!” she cried, her blonde hair whipping in the wind and her large chest bouncing in the tied fabric that was serving as her bra for the day. “You’ve got to see this shit! I’ve got the weirdest, freakiest rash. At least I hope it is, because otherwise that means the fruit isn’t done with us and there’s no fucking way I want that!”

She raised an arm and shifted to show them the area beside her ample breasts, lifting her top so they could see.

“Nice big hooters,” Tyson chuckled.

“Oh, shut up. Look at the patch on the side of my boob! It’s on the other side too. It looks like-”

“Scales,” Peter said. “Like navy blue scales.”

But Diego shook her head slowly. The beautiful Hispanic woman reached out to feel them, and Lachlan shivered a little. “Hey! It feels sensitive. Ask before you touch my tits, man.”

“They’re not scales,” Diego said slowly, her eyes narrowing. “They’re denticles.”

“Denticles,” Tyson scoffed. “The fuck is a denticle?”

“It’s what sharks have.”

She exchanged a look with Peter, who nodded nervously back. She herself had instantly drawn a connection the moment Diego had made the clarification; they were both thinking about the shark ladies in the carved stones around the island, the ones carrying the fruit above their heads as they swam in the water.

“It might just be a coincidence,” the curvaceous brunette said.

Diego grimaced. “We’ll have to hope so, because we need the fruit to give us energy for our escape.”

Unfortunately, it was not a coincidence. In the days that followed, all of them began growing denticles in patches across their skin, patches that slowly grew, speeding up after each consumption of the purple fruit. Lachlan’s breasts were soon covered, with the exception of her nipples, though they turned a dark blue. In addition, her teeth had started to ache, and overnight they gained a pointiness to them, getting sharper the more she ate.

“I’m getting fucking shark teeth!” she exclaimed, pulling at her long blonde hair and wanting to take a bite out of a damn tree in frustration. “This is fucking insane.”

“You’re telling me,” Tyson said. “My teeth are starting to kill me. Peter says we’re turning into shark people.”

“Just a theory,” Peter said, gesturing to a stone surface that displayed a shark woman in more intricate detail. “But I think it’s a solid one, really. All the stones show shark ladies, right? And they have sharp teeth and scaly skin, at least from what little detail we can see.”

“And they have dorsal fins,” Diego said.

“So?” Lachlan asked.

The Hispanic woman turned and pulled off her shirt, causing her breasts to jostle a little. There on her back was a small protrusion, like her spine had started to push out to form a vertical column that was raised above the surface of the skin.

“So, I’m growing one,” she emphasised in her lovely accent. “And I suspect you all won’t be far behind. I’m just eating more fruit because I’m working harder than anyone.”

Peter grimaced. That explained why she was getting a sore back ache as well, located between her shoulder blades and then further down below them. She had been adamant about working on this project, and since her Dad had been a carpenter and Diego had been a labourer in many professions, the two had been the hardest at work on the yacht, and therefore eating more.

“Shit,” she said. She ran her tongue over her teeth and felt their sharpness. Not only that, but her tongue was also coarser. Sort of sandpapery, presumably so it wouldn’t get injured or cut on her own teeth. “We’ll have to work faster. Or else we might not even be recognisably human by the time we escape.”

“Maybe it wears off!?” Lachlan said, starting to pace in a panic, clutching her boobs so they didn’t bounce so much. “I can’t turn into a fucking shark! I just can’t! I won’t even be able to walk on land!”

“The pictures all show the ladies having legs, at least. It’s just they’ve also got dorsal fins and a long sharktail out their butt.”

“Well, that just makes it all better now, doesn’t it, Peter! Fuck, I can’t believe it! If we didn’t have you on this trip, we might not have ended up like this!”

“Don’t blame him,” Diego said.

“Yeah,” Tyson replied. “This was your fault, man.”

“Gragh! I know that! Just give me something, though! Fuck! I’m supposed to be the wealthy one! The guy that shows all his friends a good time! I can do anything I fucking want, only now I’m stuck and I can’t control a thing. None of you know what that feels like.”

Peter and Diego in particular gave each other the side-eye, as if to say, ‘I wish I could have your problems, man.’ Neither said anything though; it was clear that Lachlan was breaking down much as Tyson had several weeks ago.

“We just gotta press on,” Peter eventually said, putting a hand on Lachlan’s shoulder.

The woman sighed, her chest heaving. It was a damn knife in Peter’s guts to know that this incredibly attractive woman, denticles and shark teeth and all, still wasn’t attractive to her. She’d brought herself to orgasm just imagining a handsome male captain coming to her rescue last night. 

“Okay, press on,” Lachlan said. “Race against time. That just gives us more reason to try, right?”

***

The race against time was more fraught than any of them had imagined. Their transformation into beautiful and shapely women had been quite gradual, but it seemed that, despite their next change being altogether more extreme, the fruit must have been preparing their bodies the whole time for it, and as such their alterations came much more rapidly. The very next day, Peter woke to find that her teeth were now shark-like, with triangular points. Her denticles were now covering at least fifty percent of her body, with just her stomach and face and parts of her legs not covered by her own grey colouring. Tyson was similar, with a very black coat to her skin, almost like more of an orca than a shark, and given the white patches around her eyes, that could well be the case. A killer whale of a woman, rather than a shark. 

“Close enough for ancient islanders, I guess,” she bemoaned. “Not like they had marine biologists like you to figure me out, Peter.”

Peter sighed, her own education in such manners coming into practice. Lachlan had the lovely colouring of a blue shark, and judging from how her face was starting to protrude, she could well end up with the elongated snout of one as well. Diego, meanwhile, had clearly drawn the short straw, because the sides of her head were starting to bulge oddly, until it was undeniable what she was becoming.

“Mierda, I’m a fucking hammerhead shark girl. Just my rotten luck!”

Tyson raised an eyebrow at this exclamation as they compared changes around the shelter that morning. “Sorry man, I gotta ask, but were you talking to me just then, or Lachlan? Your eyes are getting so far apart it’s hard to tell.”

Suffice to say, Diego was quick on her feet and chasing after the former man, cursing her out in Spanish as she ran. Lachlan chuckled at this, clearly grateful for some entertainment, but Peter could tell she was getting more and more worried, and for good reason.

Just three days and a failed fruit fast later, the group had changed even more radically. They were all bulking up again, getting taller and musclier. Tyson was incredibly grateful for this, though she still had the extra curves and thickened middle of, as he put it, “a fucking shark MILF.” Fitting for a man who had become a woman who was becoming some kind of anthro-orca. She even had a sleek stomach that was all white and more rubbery, though her denticles remained, black and shiny, which real orca did not have. They were certainly smooth though, and such was the case of all of them; there was only the very lightest sandpaper effect from their new skin, not that it consoled them much. The other changes were radical enough to overcome any joy from still having smooth skin: their faces were pushing forward to form little snouts. It was utterly bizarre to realise that one’s mouth and one’s nose were effectively part of the same structure now; a longer snout that pushed one’s whole face forwards. 

“Why is mine so much longer!?” Lachlan whined. “I’ve got a huge nose here!”

“Because you’re like a blue shark woman,” Peter explained. “Just like Tyson is some kind of half-orca, half-shark woman.”

“But - but it’s so long! My face feels weird!”

At this point, Diego turned to her, cocking her own head so that her dark grey hammerhead shape was in full view.

“Wow, that must be so difficult for you, Lachlan.”

Indeed, the Hispanic woman now looked the oddest out of all of them, and yet oddly attractive despite that, perhaps because of how exotic she appeared. Her head had widened, forming the two hammerhead branches, and her eyes had pushed out onto them so that her nose slits were in the centre of the flat plane of her head. She still had her wavy black hair, however, and a set of full lips that framed her sharp teeth. Somehow, the effect pulled together to form a rather sexy hammerhead girl, even if those eyes were really separated onto the sides of her head.

“You don’t look too bad, actually,” Peter said honestly. “You look very - very attractive!”

“Dios mio, don’t lie to me.” “Nah, she’s right,” Tyson said. “I’d fucking do you, man. You know, if I was a guy still, and probably a little drunk.”

At this, Diego sighed. “At least I’m not terrible-looking. None of us are. Hardly anyone to appreciate us though, huh?”

Lachlan sniffled at that. “I’d rather not be appreciated! I’m some big-boobed shark girl now. My Dad will distance himself from me. We’ll be dissected and studied if we ever get rescued.”

Her words made the entire group go silent. They were already becoming alien enough; Peter’s face was gaining a cute snout as well, and her own muscles and height were growing as she became more shark-like. She couldn’t imagine her not becoming some freak science experiment.

“Well, the raft is just about done, and Diego says we can try and leave in two days. We can talk in the morning and make a decision on what to do then.”

At that, she scratched the growth on her back and walked away, her hips swaying more than she’d like, and the area above her butt itchy and achey. She had a feeling she knew what was going on there, too.

***

By the time two days had passed and the tide was perfect for leaving, none of the women knew whether they even wanted to go. Over the past couple of days, they had moaned and gasped as their tails pushed out, fins growing out from the end of the thick flesh. Peter had moaned in her tent, rubbing her new limb and clutching her still-soft shark-woman breasts, orgasming just as she had when her pussy had grown in. Just like last time, the final change had accelerated and brought with it a massive amount of reluctant pleasure, and soon the sound of women crying out in passion echoed throughout the night. Her hair turned silver to match her Great White Shark form, and her height grew yet again. Her tail was massive, over five feet long in length, and the muscles within it were powerful. The same was true of each of them: Tyson had the thickest tail, suiting her voluptuous yet powerful figure, which was the largest of all of them, while Diego had the smallest, which she was grateful for.

“Being stuck looking out the sides of my head is already enough change for me,” she explained, gesturing to her unusual head. 

Lachlan’s tail was the thinnest, sleek and feminine as befitting her bombshell nature. And she was still an utter bombshell. They all were, in fact, which was a very odd thing to think, but it was true. Despite now being covered in shark scales and possessing powerful tails that dragged behind them on the beach or curled about their waists, despite the sharp teeth and little snouts and the dorsal fins that now made wearing clothing all but impossible . . . they were still strikingly attractive. And that was even because their minds hadn’t altered or anything; Peter was certain that she was relatively unchanged in that respect. Instead, she just noted that each of them still had very busty and attractive female figures. Even their snouts were cute; they were much smaller - even Lachlan’s - compared to a real shark’s, and so their faces were still very feminine, including Diego’s. They still had pretty lips, soft jawlines, lovely cheeks and cheekbones, and wild, beautiful hair. Peter’s was now silver in colour, while Tyson’s remained a mane of afro-curls. Lachlan was very pleased that hers was still bright blonde, and despite clashing with her blue shark skin, she managed to pull it off. Diego, meanwhile, had a grey streak in her hair, which was otherwise black and slightly curly. They were also, by this point, entirely naked. A little embarrassing, but it wasn’t like they could easily wear clothes with pronounced dorsal thins and big, thick tails out of their backsides. At least the denticled skin around their breasts made them a little firmer and less prone to bouncing, though no less sensitive, as Peter had discovered.

“Okay,” she said, gesturing to herself. “Our changes are pretty much done. For good, this time. We’re all shark girls, just like the engravings and paintings on the stones around the island.”

“At least I got my height back,” Tyson declared, gesturing to her impressive stature. “I mean, I might even be taller than before. Just as broad, too!”

“Oh, great!” Lachlan said sarcastically, crossing her arms over her large blue breasts. “I’m so happy we all got our athletic natures back. Hell, Peter here is even musclier than me, in a girl-muscle kind of way.”

Peter actually found it hard not to grin her pointed teeth at this. She couldn’t deny that she had a very attractively shaped body; curvaceous yet fit, but not so muscled that she looked ridiculous. Well, any more ridiculous than an anthro-shark gal.

“Look, we’ve all got it bad,” Peter said. “Some in worse ways than others.”

“Yeah, like, my waist is pretty thick here. I got hot Momma thighs,” Tyson said.

“And need I remind you people that I’ve got a hammerhead,” Diego intoned.

Tyson chuckled. “Nice fucking hips though!”

“You’re goddamn right, chica. The best hips. But still a fucking hammerhead woman.” “And I’m a great white shark,” Peter said. “Except I’ve got boobs, a vagina, and the kind of hourglass figure I wish my imaginary girlfriend had. Look, we could compare notes all day, but the fact is that we’ve all become anthro-shark women, and none of us look human now. We’ve got the figures of women, sure, but we’re scaled - or denticled, or whatever - and the little snouts and all that. I mean, we’ve got gills in our freakin’ necks here.”

She gestured to her own neck. That had been one of the last developments, though she had been too nervous to actually give her new gills a test run.

“My point is, we’re all in the same boat, and here’s the goddamn boat. The problem is, when we get back, we’ll probably be locked up and experimented on, made famous or disappeared or whatever. We might not. We might be rescued and turned back. But we need to decide what we’re going to do; are we willing to take that risk?”

The other three shark women grumbled among themselves, and Diego in Spanish. It was a real conundrum. They’d been working on this escape plan for so long, but their yacht with its half-sail looked a bit ridiculous, and the possibility of getting back to their old lives seemed even more remote now that it was finished. Peter herself wasn’t sure what to think. She had a bad feeling of what would happen if she tried to just rock up to human civilisation. There were enough loonies out there that they might just try to hunt her and her friends. But at the same time, she knew that Tyson and Lachlan in particular had grand futures mapped out for themselves, and the latter was used to such a level of comfort she certainly didn’t want to give up.

Sure enough, Lachlan made that clear, being the first one to speak. “We have to risk it. I’m an heir to a major company, for God’s sake! I’m used to flying around the world, living in comfort and wealth! No offence, but I can’t give that up.”

“Yeah, and I’m on track for the NFL,” Tyson said. “That’s the fucking dream. I’d rather risk it. That’s what a true footballer would do.”

Diego shrugged. “I’m not becoming some experiment. Look at me, I’m the freakiest monster here. I’d rather try life in the ocean and improvise. That’s always how I’ve rolled.”

Peter sighed and nodded in agreement. “I’ll join you.”

“What!?” Lachlan said. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I want to be a marine biologist because I love marine environments, Lachlan. I was always amazed when Mom saved up to take me to the aquarium twice a year. Now, I can get closer to those environments than ever. Besides, it’s not like my prospects are great back at home. I don’t have your wealth. I’m just a poor guy stuck in debt. Living like this . . . I could be free of the system that never treated me too kindly.”

“Spoken well, hermana,” Diego said, placing a hand on the woman’s grey-scaled shoulder. “And I agree.”

Lachlan and Tyson’s jaws were lowered, their sharp teeth showing.

“What are we supposed to do, then!?” Lachlan exclaimed. “I can’t lose my ship captain and our most practical member at the same time! Tyson and I will be - we’ll be sharkbait!”

At this, Peter and Diego actually broke into girlish laughter. Their heavy tails thudded on the ground audibly, a sensation Peter definitely wasn’t used to yet.

“Guys, you are sharks!” she exclaimed, embarrassing the pair of them. But then an idea formed. “Wait, we’re all sharks.”

“Yeah, we’re aware, man,” Tyson said. “Though I’m half whale. No one better make any fat jokes.”

“No, I mean we’re sharks. We should be able to breathe underwater, right? So why don’t we just swim to civilisation now? We’ve got the tails as of this morning to get us there, so we can check things out and try to find a good position for ourselves without being rescued and becoming national news. We can return in our own time and on our own terms, and we can all decide if we’re happy to go back or not on the way!”

At this, Lachlan breathed a sigh of relief, as did the others.

“Now that’s a plan,” the former wealthy man stated. “Besides, I was kinda hoping to at least try out these gills and this tail. No point wasting what we’ve been given!”

To Be Continued . . .