Chapter 2

Two months ago...

Walter Spaulding, president of Medical Innovations Inc., was meeting his partner and the Head of Operations, Maxwell Samson Slaughter. It had been one week since his “experiment” with Conchita Ferris, the voluptuous Latina who worked as his personal assistant. That afternoon, debasing the sexy, dark haired woman had left him exhilarated with a sense of power that was unparalleled.

Of course, when Max found out what he had done, he was furious. Slaughter had always had loftier ideals than Spaulding, and he always resented the older man’s more pragmatic and base nature. Granted, Slaughter’s high ideals would likely get him tried for crimes against humanity some day. Spaulding’s philosophy, better living through modern science (for those who could afford it), was far more likely to keep him out of trouble in the long run.

Max was in his office, scowling at his computer. The young man had the remains of his lunch on the table: some salad with unidentifiable meat or meat substitute flecking his mustache. His white blond hair was like a skullcap on his large, round head. His thin face was even graver looking than usual. When Walt took a seat, Max’s eyes barely flickered from the screen.

“Oh, hell, Max,” Walter said as he sat down. “You still sore at me using the H-formula on the Ferris woman?”

Max’s eyes were fixed on his monitor. “Sore? No, I’m not sore. I’m mad, frustrated, disappointed, and most of all scared.”

Walter looked at his long-time friend and colleague. “Scared?”

Max slammed his fist on the desk. “Yes, I’m scared! Human testing was not supposed to begin until the end of the year! And with subjects who have been thoroughly screened! You jeopardized 300 million dollars of research by using it on a girl with who knows what genetic and physiological flaws just to get your dick wet! It was irresponsible of you, and it could cost us far more than $300 million.”

“What do you mean, Max?”

“Unlike you, Walt, I actually follow up on my experiments. She came to one of our clinics very ill. She requested a pregnancy test, and our man there got her to have a blood draw. I have her results here on my computer. It’s a mess, Walt. A real mess.”

Max sighed and turned the monitor on its mount so it faced Spaulding. The doctor looked at it and then looked again, his eyes bugging out of their sockets. Reading raw data was not one of Spaulding’s strong suits, but even he could tell that something was very wrong.

“What?” Spaulding swallowed, “what is happening to her?”

“I don’t know Walt,” Slaughter said, his face grave. “I don’t know.”

Spaulding stood with his back straight and his shoulders square. Slaughter knew this as Walter’s “man of action” pose and grinned wryly without it showing on his face.

Oh, Walt, you’re not fooling me. You’re one of the most insecure men I’ve ever met. That’s why you drugged the woman. You didn’t think you could get her on your own, Max thought.

Spaulding mentally berated himself for being so careless with their greatest discovery as his eyes turned icy. “Bring her in for observation. Tell her a story she’ll buy. We need to get this situation under control before something catastrophic happens.”

Conchita Ferris was at home at the time, having vomited for the third time that day. She had felt strange ever since that insane encounter in Dr. Spaulding’s office. Her legs were wobbly when she first got home after Spaulding screwed her brains out for an hour. When she got home, she’d collapsed on her bed, fully clothed, and fallen into a fitful sleep. She woke up several times during the night, drenched in sweat. She brought her fever down with cold showers, and she drank what seemed like a gallon of water to quench her thirst.

The next day, she called in sick and bought a pregnancy test. She knew it was foolish to believe she had gotten pregnant with the man’s child after only one time with him, but she couldn’t be sure. She even got a blood draw at the pharmacist’s suggestion. It was free because the clinic she visited was owned by the company, and she worked for MII.

Connie’s nausea and fever worsened the next day.

When she was able to sleep, her dreams were filled with bizarre visions of animals copulating, tearing into each other, and an inhuman howling over it all. The howl took over her dreams more and more, until it felt like a never-ending call to her mind, body, and soul. She clung to a frail, crumbling something within her—the ordinary, banal thing she referred to as her “humanity.” But it seemed to be slipping away with each of these dreams as her willingness to cling to her humanity slipped. She awoke with a desire to rut, to kill, and to scream with the same animalistic glee as the beasts in her dream.

In the most disturbing dream of all, she was surrounded by beasts. She was dressed in an ephemeral white and black gown. Animals were killing, feeding, running, screaming, and fucking with abandon all around her.

Her hands were drawn to her clothes as she watched, wanting to tear the two-tone cloth apart and join the beasts cavorting around her. But she pushed herself away from the slathering horde and walked away, tripping over one body and pulling herself over another. The real howling began at that point, and she began to flee.

One of the animals tore a part of her dress away, then another, and another, until she was as naked as they were. And she was no longer running from them but with them. Connie’s heart pounded, and she could hear the roar of blood in her ears as she ran. She could feel their furry bodies against her thighs, brushing against her buttocks. Her huge breasts bounced and shook frantically as her feet ate up the unreal distance.

She ascended a hill, and under a blood red moon, she collapsed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The beasts surrounded her, and among them were two who were larger, stronger, and more fearsome than all the rest.

One approached her and, sniffing at the dewy folds of her sex, began to lick away the moisture. Connie moaned at the contact and lifted her hips to meet the thick, wet tongue on her pussy. With a low growl, the creature grabbed her waist and thrust its tongue further into her. Connie screamed in ecstasy as the sleek and powerful beast held her bucking hips with its mouth attached to her hot, wet sex. And all too quickly, the beast pulled away from her.

Then came the other. Connie watched in awe and terror as the massive beast positioned itself between her trembling thighs. It pushed her in with its enormous member with such force that it left her gasping for air. When it finally pushed itself all the way inside her, its breath hot and heavy, it began thrusting in and out, driving into her with a relentless passion that filled her body with dizzying pleasure. She shut her eyes and gave in to the experience, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her. Her body was overcome with a desire she’d never known, and she found herself wanting more.

Her terror at what was happening to her returned. She attempted to get away from the beast that was ravaging her, but she was helpless. She was torn asunder by the pull of the forbidden pleasure she was experiencing and the solid ground of humanity to which she clung like a drowning woman. All she could feel was the beast’s hot body pressing against hers and the heat of its movements as it drove itself in and out as the pleasure intensified.

The ultimate horror began as Connie felt herself wrapping her quivering thighs around the beast’s thrusting hips, driving the thing’s cock deeper and deeper into her wet folds. And deep inside her, starting with her stomach and building up to her chest and then her throat, the desire to howl built. She clenched her teeth and moaned, groaned, and whined like a bitch in heat.

Then the big black beast that had tongue fucked her pussy returned and started to paw and bite at her huge breasts. Connie could only growl as the thing abused her trembling teats, biting at her stiff nipples and licking the sweat from her heavy mounds. And between her thighs, the other beast fucked her cunt ruthlessly.

But Conchita Ferris still did not join in the howling.

To howl meant to accept all of the animalistic horror and pleasure coursing through her veins, which would be the ultimate surrender to the beast and its desires. Connie bit her lip until it bled, trying to keep the final scream from erupting from her body. She knew that if she gave in to her primal desires, it would be an irreversible transformation with no way back. The pounding in her ears grew louder and louder until Connie finally opened her bloody mouth, took a deep, wracking breath, and...

A pounding at her door jolted her out of her crimson-soaked reverie, and she stood up on shaky legs. She felt a trickle of blood drip from her lower lip, and she wiped it away. She saw two men through the peep hole, one a large, balding white man and the other a lanky, pock marked black man. She carefully opened the door, the chain still on the catch.

“Hello,” she croaked, “what do you want?”

“Miss Conchita Ferris,” the imposing white guy said, “we’re with M.I.I. We need you to come with us. We are afraid that due to improper handling of research material, you were exposed to a dangerous biological agent.”

Conchita sucked in a breath in shock, and her senses were buzzing with the scents of the two men. And the aroma, a mix of masculine sweat and foul cologne, disappointed her. They attempted to project strength and authority, but she couldn’t detect it. Connie narrowed her eyes in thought. Doctor Spaulding’s big dick and abundant cum had been the last thing she had come into contact with at work. Was that how she became contaminated? Was he also contaminated by this “biological agent”?

“Is Doctor Spaulding all right?” Connie asked, with some strength returning to her voice.

“That’s none of your concern, Miss Ferris,” the thin black man said. Come with us, and you will be treated in an MII medical facility.”

Her suspicions grew, but she tamped them down. These men were from the company, and if she had been exposed to something, which seemed very likely, they would be the ones to fix it. She knew better than to refuse an offer of assistance from the company, so she followed them out of her building. They were very abrupt with her and didn’t allow her to get anything from her apartment.

Connie’s room was at the headquarters of MII and seemed more like a hotel room than a hospital. It was more like an apartment or a hotel than what she would have imagined a medical research facility would look like. There was a gym with an indoor running track, a pool, a cafeteria, and even a library stocked with the latest medical journals. That all of this was about a hundred feet below the ground in the building she had worked in for almost a year shocked her.

Over the course of a week, Connie’s symptoms (save for the dreams) improved until she felt almost normal. During the next few days, she started to notice changes in her body and personality.

The strange feelings and instincts slowly eroded her demure attitude. She was becoming increasingly confident and assertive, no longer shying away from speaking up or taking action.

She was almost always hungry, especially for protein. The staff learned to keep away from her when she became annoyed by their constant tests and checkups. She either slept all day and was awake all night or vice versa. She was also constantly horny, masturbating nightly and frequently during the day, her fingers taking on a life of their own and providing her with incredible pleasure, but she yearned for something more.

Connie quickly discovered that her senses of smell and taste had become painfully acute. It made food and people more interesting because she could learn about them by taking a deep breath through her nose or mouth. She could see better in low light than she ever had before. The muscle was growing beneath her skin without destroying the fatty and connective tissue that gave her figure its distinct curves. She wasn’t much stronger than before, but when she jogged around the indoor track, she could go much farther than before.

Dreams of being ravished by faceless beasts continued to torment her.

“Well, Max,” Spaulding said as he watched Connie on the monitor.

She was masturbating again, writhing like an animal on her bed, and the camera picked up her grunting as she induced a powerful orgasm. As she rode the pleasure to its climax, her breasts quaked with her ragged breathing. She finally relaxed and fell asleep after a few minutes.

Spaulding didn’t know whether to be aroused or scared.

“Well, what, Walt?” Slaughter said his eyes were looking at her vital signs and not at the naked, big breasted woman on the bed.

“What are we planning to do with her? We can’t keep her here forever.”

Slaughter rubbed his eyes. “Actually, we can.”

Spaulding turned and stared at Slaughter as the other man drank one of his foul-smelling green smoothies.

Slaughter looked at him. “We examined her blood work and performed several DNA tests. We also double-checked with our attorneys, which was more critical. Walt, she’s not human. Not any longer.”

Spaulding looked again at the monitor and back at Slaughter. He barked out a laugh. “You could have fooled me!”

“Look, Walt,” Slaughter said, “she is much like our other biological creations—”

“You mean our monsters?” Spaulding thought. He shuddered as he remembered the birth of their most recent creation. He’d awoken screaming in his bed that night.

“She has a humanoid appearance, but her biological functions and capabilities place her outside the legal definition of a human. Thanks to you, she is also legally our property as a MII product because she is the result of our patented processes.”

“You don’t really think that will hold up in court, do you?” Spaulding was disturbed by the implications of what they—no, he had done.

Slaughter got up and put on his work coat. The long, heavy duty jacket gave him something of the look of a butcher. He turned back to Spaulding, and a strange smile crossed his cheeks. This was the happiest Spaulding had seen him in weeks.

“It’s murky enough that it won’t be settled one way or another any time soon. In the meantime, I want to try something with her. Bring up K-00. Introduce them to each other,” Slaughter laughed. “I think they’ll get along famously.”

Now...

As the black and tan dog charged at the horrifying pink thing approaching them, Kristine pushed Connie back toward her cruiser. Kay used his ivory fangs to grab a stubby, three-toed leg. His teeth dug into the rubbery flesh, splattering purple blood and ichor all over his coat. Kay was still mauling the pink monster’s leg as it gurgled through its trunk and swung its huge tongue at the dog. Kay swatted the repulsive tongue with one of his paws, his claws cutting into the wet flesh.

Kristine pulled her pistol and shoved Connie into the patrol car. Connie pressed her face against the window, her face filled with fear. Kristine planted her feet as she fired over the car’s hood. She received three puffs of purple mist from the thing’s thick skin after three muzzle blasts. The huge trunk turned toward Kristine, and a bubbling wad of green slime shot from the wide nostril. Kristine dove, and the slime hit the building behind her, bubbling, hissing, and smelling like death. The vapor from the effluvium stung her eyes like tear gas.

Kristine’s hair stood on end as she heard a crackling sound and saw a brilliant flash of light. She looked up over the hood and saw the pink thing staggering around and smoking everywhere. Kay circled it, snarling. The air was thick with an almost suffocating ozone odor. Kristine put the rest of her clip into the monster and got six more purple blood puffs. Rivulets of blood were now streaming down the monster’s sides as it let out a series of disgusting sounds.

She opened the driver’s side door and got behind the wheel. She turned the key and put her foot on the gas. The cruiser roared in response, and Kristine blew past the monster that was still battling Kay. A slam on the back of her seat made her whip her head around.