"Remember, Lopez," Donna Belville growled at Clara, "None of this happened! You didn't see me like this, and I certainly didn't order you to pleasure me! Now get out of here! You're smelling more like food by the minute!" She bared her new fangs for effect. Clara nodded fearfully. Donna smiled a bit. "Then go!" she snarled forcefully. "NOWWWW!!!" Clara scampered out of the room, still splattered with Donna's thick cum and wiry red hairs.
Donna sighed contentedly in the afterglow of Clara Lopez's masterful fucking. Obviously the clumsy Mexican woman was good for something after all. Not so clumsy with her tongue, Donna thought. Maybe Clara should use that skillful tongue of hers to wash the dishes. Donna shuddered at that horribly uncivilized thought. But why not? Nature had given everyone nice, wet tongues, after all. Why shouldn't they be used to clean things? Yes, Lopez would definitely have some new orders tomorrow...
It really was a good thing Clara had answered Donna's scream. Her idiot of a husband had run off into the night the second she'd started changing. Not that she'd ever orgasmed much with him anyway, but Donna had desperately needed SOMEONE to fuck her changing body. Thank God for Clara Lopez's courage, obedience, and sexual prowess. Her wife was one lucky woman. Donna sighed. She envied Clara for being able to openly express her lesbianism, while Donna had always been forced to hide hers. She wished she could tell her friend Susan Cunningham (the mother of Blair's friend Lacy) how she felt about her: that she was beautiful, that she loved her. It was probably too late now, though.
Donna got out of bed and took a look at herself in the mirror. She was surprised by how muscular she looked, but she was even more startled by the extent of her hairiness. Her once carefully styled hair had exploded into a wild scarlet mane, and her formerly sculpted eyebrows were bushy. Her pussy, pits, and limbs (all of which had been waxed just yesterday) were wild with dense red hairs. Donna stared. Her own mother had told her to never grow out her body hair because it would look disgusting and detract from her beauty, but this lush crop did nothing of the kind. It enhanced Donna's body, making her look like a magnificent jungle queen. She grinned proudly at the thought.
Donna held up her hand and looked at her little claws. She wished they were bigger, but they were certainly a vast improvement over the feeble human nails they had replaced. Was Donna still a human? She doubted it, but she didn't care. She was who she wanted to be, and that was all that mattered to her.
It occurred to Donna that her sense of smell had changed too. She had smelled Clara. She smelled arousal, fear, and humanity. Either a meal or a fuck, and she'd needed that latter more at the time. She'd also smelled something else as she came: two of her own kind. A warm, spicy musk loaded with pheromones. Had she not been frozen in place by her climax, she'd have charged over to those two beastwomen and fucked them silly. But wait... they'd been Sierra and Blair; they'd had their scents. Donna had no idea how she automatically knew what Sierra and Blair smelled like, but she supposed it was some kind of mother instinct. Was it bad to be aroused by the scent of her cubs? For a human, perhaps, but the Belville women were hardly human anymore.
Donna's stomach rumbled. She'd been more horny than hungry when Clara had dropped by, but now she was famished. She turned to her window and gazed out at the forests filled with plump, juicy deer. She howled gleefully into the night at the thought of her first hunt as a beastwoman.
Donna suddenly remembered that it would be dawn soon. She had to get to work! Donna growled to herself as such human thoughts pushed back into her head. She much preferred to think like an animal as much as possible. But could she really just drop everything and be a beast? Maybe she SHOULD start getting ready for work. But looking like this? She'd need to shave. Donna cringed at the horrible thought.