"HENREYYYY!?"
A call echoed through the heavy forest foliage. The voice female and frantic.
"HENREEYYYYYY!!!"
It repeated, voice breaking. Exasperated panting followed. Joan was at her wits end. She had lost her husband some 15 mins ago. A blistering foot had driven her to stop and lean against a tree, shifting her shoes and socks in an effort to relieve the pain, it couldn't have been more than a minute's stop. And yet, when she looked up he was gone. She had hobbled around, blisters building and finally popping, all the while calling out his name to no avail.
Emotions were running through her like a river. Fear initially, of being stuck in unfamiliar territory. They a worry for her children and husband. Anger at Henry's disappearance without her followed. Then annoyance at her bleeding feet.
Finally lethargy was kicking in. Joan had been walking for hours now, her feet, truly battered and bleeding from broken blisters could take no more. Joan wasn't a springy teen anymore. Life had worked its course. With a whimper she sunk panting to her bum, leaning against a mossy log.
The air was close here, and despite the earlier chill, she was sweating heavily, her big jumper a liability. Her head sank, for a few moments, staring at the ground, exhausted.
A few moments later her head whipped up with a cough.
*Kak*, she gagged, nose wrinkled and eyes screwed shut. "Oh Jesus..."
Now that she was no longer moving, the tendrils of heat rising from her sweating nethers were cloying around her nostrils. They smelt gamey, tangy and overall offensive.
Head raised out from between her legs the smell wasn't any way noticeable. To Joan's estimation it was just coming from her lower half.
A quick tug at the collar of her jumper, and a sniff of her chest and pits confirmed, though sweaty smelling, it certainly wasn't the offensive smell of her lower half.
"Same bloody smell as last night. I wonder if it is an infection." The last think Joan wanted was a serious issue with no-one to see who could fix it.
So preoccupied with the fear of a serious health issue, along with the throbbing pain of her feet and the energy sapping lethargy from hours of walking, Joan forgot what had happened the last time she explored the smell.
Feet splayed in front of her she scooted back, legs opening out in front of her. A few moments of shuffling, along with a glance around to ensure she was alone and she pulled her pants and panties down. Her brown curly bush popped into view. She wished now that she had taken the time to shave it back before the trip, it would make inspecting a little easier.
The smell was more intense now, again, but she blocked her nose and went to work. Using her left hand she parted her lips, then carefully, with her right hand, she pushed her index finger into her vagina, careful not to touch any other part of her nethers. She grimaced a little, but did take a small twinge of pleasure from the act. Withdrawing her finger, she held it up for inspection. No sign of mucous or discoloured discharge. She turned her head away and brought the finger to her nose, unblocking and taking a deep sniff. Eyes screwed shut. One peeked open. It didn't smell too bad. Sure there was a bit of a whiff of the offending funk, but it wasn't overwhelming, it wasn't the source.
That just left one likely candidate. Joan frowned at the implication. Her finger returned and this time gently traced circles around her urethra. Just bringing her finger up afterward she already knew the answer, but still she completed the action and took a sniff.
*Hurk*... She cried. It was her pee.
"Fuck. Urinary tract infection..." she said out loud, the only logical explanation for smelly pee she knew of.
"Great fucking place to get it!" she called out suddenly buoyed by a swell of anger.
She sank down, energy sapped again.
"Probably explains why I need to pee so bad..."
She looked around, apart from the sounds of birds chirping and the rustling of branches, the forest was silent. A few moments passed. A minute. Two minutes. The urge was still there, and her energy was not replenishing in a hurry. Some mental arithmetic and Joan figured she'd have to go long before her rest was over.
"Fine..." She called out at no one in particular and braced her hands, pushing back against the log and trying to rise.
All it took was her to put her weight on a single foot for the pain to lance up her leg, deep into her core and her to buckle to the ground, landing hard on her ass.
It was all she could do to not release herself then and there.
Wincing, tears leaking, she pulled her feet in, bare ass scraping against the mulch of the forest floor. Her but clenched as she railed against the sensation, accidentally stamping her foot and sending another lance of pain shooting up. That did it. "damn it..." she whimpered. It was too late.
*hsssssssssss*
It started a warm trickle, running down her ass crack to wet the ground she sat on. She instantly smelled it's tangy odour. Joan clamped down, trying her best to stop the flow, to hold off. The pain was unbearable, compared to the relief. An unwilling part of her let go and unclenched for only a moment.
*hssSSSSSSSSSS* A stronger jet of her smelly urine shot out. She heard it patter against the fabric of her pants, still wrapped around her ankles. A sudden panic and burst of energy as she clamped down again, reducing the flow to a trickle again. *Gods the smell* she thought. Panicked she attempted to pull her pants off. But it was a fruitless endeavour. Her shoes, still on, prevented her from pulling her pants free. All the while jet after jet was released with an orgasmic sigh, each time pattering and soaking her clothes, before being clamped down.
One last frantic attempt saw Joan try to take her shoes off. But the agony of that finally released the floodgates. As it hissed out, now full force, she gave up trying to release her pants and instead, in a panic, held her hands out to redirect the flow.
All that did was provide a splatter plate as she musty urine splattered in all directions. The moment the mist contacted her hair and face she recoiled and pulled her hands back, finally giving up.
"oooOOHHHoooo" She moaned, relief almost orgasmic now that she just gave in that there was nothing she could do. The flow continued for a time longer, heat and vapour rising all around her, surrounding Joan in the smell.
Breathing it in she couldn't get away from the offensive tang, though...
Maybe...
Maybe she didn't want to.
Still flowing she brought her soaking hand to her face, trembling. It smelled divine. So strong! She should... She should spread it...
Where did that thought come from. Her mind shot awake for a moment, she gasped. But that was a mistake. A big lungful and the strange part of her brain took over again.
Not sure what she was doing, she rubbed her wet hand all over her neck and nape. Spreading the powerful musk. It needed to be everywhere. Even as she rubbed it in, her left hand returned to her pussy. It was just a weak flow now. She was almost done. Joan had to work fast.
She puddled some warm liquid and lifted her jumper at the bottom with her other hand. The liquid was thrown onto her belly, rolling over her little paunch. *Quick! More* were the only thoughts racing through her brain. She quickly cupped some more and added it under her top. Working furiously, she began rubbing it in to her belly, then her sides, armpits; she freed her significant breasts and rubbed them down, collecting first the very last of her trickle.
"Ooohhhh..." She moaned. This was perfect. She'd be so attractive now.
Joan felt buoyed, like she was the sexiest thing around. Nothing would stand in the way of her musk.
Delirious, she grinned down at her sopping thighs and pussy.
"Yummy". She breathed, eyes glazed. Four fingers dropped and she roughly pushed them into her sodden pussy. There was no resistance, being well lubricated. She curled her fingers up, pressing against the roof of her vagina.
"Hnnngghh" She spasmed. That was good. Fingers began dancing and her hand rocked. Everything felt better now. Thanks to the smell. It made her strong. Even her feet didn't hurt as much now. Maybe some more?...
She pulled her hand free with a *squelch*. Throwing it to her face, rubbing her fingers all over even as the other hand took it's place roughing her nethers. She was close.
No pain.
No tiredness.
Only white.
Only strong smell.
"OoOhaahhaaahAAAHHHH", Joan called out, eyes rolling back and body spasming like mad. She twitched and ground, rolling in the wet puddle underneath her. The smell. It was glorious. The orgasm, best she'd ever had. Her feet, pain free. All thanks to...
Her orgasm slowly subsided. Like waves retreating down a beach, even as another wave built.
A rational wave. A wave of normal human thought. A wave of revulsion at her actions and at the smell.
Oh god the smell.
*Hack*. It smelled like a bad farm...
Joan rolled to her side, trying to get away from the puddle of the pee she was lying in. *Kak-Huuurk* She rolled clear, onto cold but mercifully dry forest floor.
There was no escaping the smell though. Her clothes were soaked. Saliva flowing freely she knew she needed to free herself from the worst of it or she would puke. Her top was mostly dry and keeping the smell of what she rubbed into her chest away. But the pants needed to go. And quick.
He heaved at the pants. Again her shoes were the barrier though. Grunting she bent over further, feeling the leafy ground tickle her now exposed anus. She grabbed a shoe, grunted, braced herself and heaved.
The shoe came free with almost no resistance as the heave that Joan put into it threw her onto her back and cracked her head on the forest floor. Thankfully soft she returned quickly to a sitting position, grumbling at the stupid foot. As it came into view as she rose, Joan froze, breath catching in her throat. There was a reason her foot and toes didn't hurt anymore. It was because they weren't there anymore.
Her foot, no longer a human foot, had morphed, changed. In its place was a cloven hoof. Black keratin. Whisps of long brown hair peeking through pink skin up to where it joined her ankle.
"aaaaAAHHHH!" she cried. This was a nightmare.
She scrabbled around. Hands racing over it. Feeling the soft hair, the warm skin, the cold hard hoof.
"Fuck fuck fuck" She pinched and pulled at the hoof. Feeling nothing in the area but felt the alien feeling of her new cloven foot being moved.
"Oh Jesus". Trembling hands moved over to her other foot. Still in her shoe. She already knew, but had to check. She squeezed the front of her shoe. It gave, there was nothing in there. She squeezed it further up. As she did she felt the unpleasant feeling of the two halves of her hooves grinding against each other. Tears flowed freely. She struggled and pulled her shoe back over the exposed hoof. As if doing so, getting it out of sight would fix the problem.
Sniffling she lay down, back arching in a bridge. Wet pants be damned. She had bigger trouble. All thoughts of the smell now pushed down deep. Now sobbing, nose running she pulled the pants on. Turning she looked at the log. Placing a hand on its mossy bark, she pushed off and on to her knees. As she did so she saw one of the shoes twist, and her hoof pop free. She tried for a moment to put it back on but gave up.
Biting her lip Joan held on to the log and put a foot... a hoof out...
Pressing her weight on it felt so strange. She couldn't feel the contact of foot on ground, yet could feel the pressure caused by it on the bones above it. Pressing herself off, she stood. Second hoof, still in the shoe now too pressed against the ground. A moment she stood, swaying on the spot, feeling the change in the pressure on her legs. It felt bizarre.
"Have to get out of here.." She sniffled, turned and on shaky legs set off. Not two steps in her other hoof popped free of her shoe. Sighing in defeat she carried on, now barefooted. Or more accurately, barehoofed.