Bonded and Bred
Caution: This Fantasy Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, Science Fiction, Were animal,
Desc: Fantasy Story: Prologue - A shape shifter story
It was more than two hundred years ago, when the first of their race had come to earth, not quite a hundred, dying people.
They had been able to enter the earth's atmosphere without being seen, and had landed on a deserted island, miles away from any humans.
They had destroyed all evidence of their space crafts, and most of their superior technology. And they had managed to integrate themselves into the dominant population – man.
They were bipeds in their natural form, and due to their planets similarities and there evolution being along the same genetic lines, they looked almost identical to the humans, with only a little of their colouring being strikingly different.
They knew that if they were to survive, then they would have to mate with the indigenous people, that less than a hundred was not enough to guarantee the survival of their race. They needed to breed with the humans in order to strengthen their gene pool.
It had been difficult for them for the first few decades or so. All they could think of was their home. Their world had been lost to the ravages of their sun; the massive solar flare that had burnt half of the system and half of their planet, in just a few hours.
The survivors had been lucky enough to be on the dark side of the planet, when the flare had hit.
It had destroyed too much though, and the sun's stability was growing even more erratic, signalling that it was coming to the end of its life.
The people knew that it was time to leave – or die.
And even then not everyone could go, or even wished to go.
The older generation did not choose to outlive their home world, and so remained behind.
Twenty five years after arriving on earth, a single message had been intercepted.
'By the time that this message finds you, we shall be no more. Your birth world will be ashes from the final burn of the sun which is by now gone as well. Live long, live well, and remember us – remember where you came from.'
The sky was a little darker now, with the absence of that once bright star, and so they knew that the message was true.
The people not from earth mourned its passing, but then they looked to the future with a new determination, since there was now absolutely no way to go back.
They could not go back to their home world, and so they made their home on this new world, but when the moon was full, then their ancestors called out to them, to remind them of where they had come from, and if they succumbed to the call, then the change would occur.
They would become creatures of the night, wolves and hounds and even creatures of the feathered kind. Their spirits would soar as they would remember what they once had been.
They had stayed with their own kind at first, but as they let go of the past, and embraced their new life, then the people of earth seemed to gravitate toward them, to find their kind attractive, they were strong in build and handsome or beautiful to see, and almost irresistible. Slowly and gradually the races mixed.
In order for the mating to succeed however, it was necessary for the changeling to make certain adjustments to the human, which involved infecting them and making them a 'turned changeling'.
The changeling gene was strong, it was stronger – more dominant than the human genes, but the two races could breed, and so they did.
Their groups were spread far and wide, and after two centuries or more, the mixing was enough now for them to be able to breed with other changelings – with their own kind if they chose to.
There was also the concern for the humans of this world; it would have been so easy to wipe them out altogether – to breed them out of existence.
And since most changelings did prefer to stick with their own kind, then they were content to exist alongside the humans, but slightly apart, and secret.
Except for Greg Beaumont, who came from a long line of first generation changelings. He fell in love with a human woman, and she with him – even after he had told her what he was, she still loved him, and consented to joining his race by way of infection.
He had infected her with his bite and his blood, and she had joked that she would become a vampire.
He had loved her even more for that, for her humour and her ready acceptance of who and what he was.
The two of them lived a happy life and she gifted him with two second generation daughters – Iris and Laurie.
Beautiful and spirited, they were changelings, in an all too human way.
But much to Greg's anguish his much loved Belle became sick with a nasty virus, and after a tragically short illness, she died, leaving him to raise his still young daughters, on his own.
He was so heartbroken that he could not forget his beloved, and he would not let his little girls forget where they had come from – who their mother had been, and so he allowed the changeling side of their nature to slide a little. He would not force them to submit to the pain of the change, even though they would have to endure it on occasion, he did not force the issue, and so his daughters grew up to be more human than changeling...