One with the Clan Ch. 01

Warning: There is some non-blood-relation incest content. Consider yourselves warned.

Spoiler Tags: Lesbian, Transformation, Corruption, Incest, Elf, Stepmother, Futa, Domination, Submission, First Time, Virgin

My party was winding down, only a few guests remained, the majority of them having trickled out over the course of the last hour or so. My dad had retired to his room, saying he had a big meeting tomorrow and needed his beauty sleep. Stepmother was cleaning up the various pieces of debris that littered our house, sending me a warm smile and a wave which I returned. She'd been acting fairly strange all day, almost more eager than I was for my nineteenth birthday. I waited for her to turn her back before reaching out and winding my fingers through my best friend Leah's, drawing her a little closer so I could bump my shoulder against her. She looked around for a second before giving me a shy smile, tucking a brunette strand of her pixie cut behind her ear, her beautiful brown eyes partially obscured by her thick glasses. Inserable, she'd been my friend for as long as I could remember.

And, only recently, something more.

The last of my well wishers threaded out, leaving Leah as the lone person present that did not currently live here. Her eyes darted at my stepmother Shana, and she withdrew her hand. A small pang of hurt stabbed through my heart which Leah noticed. She shot me an apologetic smile and headed for the door, muttering a soft goodbye to my stepmother who was gathering paper plates and dumping them into the trash.

I don't know why she's so intimidated by her.

I followed Leah out the door, closing it swiftly behind us. Calling out softly before she could get too far, "Leah, wait up."

She paused, returning to me for an exuberant hug, a one-eighty from her demeanor inside. "Sorry, Thia, she just scares me. Something about her isn't quite right."

"You really gonna talk about my stepmom while you're wrapped up in my arms?" I chided quietly. Silencing her with a kiss, I kept her from apologizing again. Her lips tasted of cherry gloss and the sensations were new enough to make our hearts flutter. We'd only a week ago elevated our relationship from longtime friends to... an as of yet undefined something beyond that. Then, all too soon, we parted and she trotted home. I had to stifle the desire to click my sensible flats and whistle a jaunty tune on the steps leading up to my house.

Later in the night, after we'd finished cleaning up, I lounged in the kitchen with my stepmom.

"The big one nine, huh?" Shana asked, taking a swig from her bottle of beer.

"Yep," I said, for lack of anything better.

She looked at me speculatively for a moment, her brown eyes quirking slightly. "Want a taste?" she asked, poking the bottle at me.

I looked at her like this might be some sort of trap. "You sure?"

"Of course, you're legally an adult now, what's wrong with you having a bit of alcohol?"

"Thanks Shana," I said, taking the bottle from it and tilting it up. The tangy taste of beer bubbled across my tongue, slightly bitter and somewhat distasteful, there was also a fruity, almost florally undertone that I hadn't noticed in any of my personal experiments with the distasteful drink.

Still pretty nasty. How did this ever become popular?

I winced and scraped my tongue against my teeth.

She laughed and finished off the remnants with two long pulls before setting it into the recycling. "It is an acquired taste, they say." She folded her hand across her trim breasts, showing off her powerful forearms.

If nothing else, she has excellently sculpted muscles from her job as a fitness instructor.

Shana sucked on her lip, watching me carefully. "You're mother would've been proud of who you've become, you know that right?"

I nodded despite the stone she'd just dropped in my stomach.

"Sorry, that was pretty maudlin. How about we have a small bonfire and stargaze for a bit?"

"Uhhhh. I'm pretty tired, I'll probably just head to bed." I shuffled awkwardly on my feet, wanting to escape to my room so I could text with Leah.

"Nonsense," she said with a smile that brooked no argument.

I shivered, understanding where Leah was coming from, my stepmom's intensity could be something else. She threw her arm over my shoulder and led me into our backyard where we worked together to build a bonfire.

This is strange. I thought we had an unspoken agreement of nonaggression. She would leave me to my devices and I wouldn't be too wild. It has worked out fine so far... So what's changed? She's never acted like she wanted anything more from our relationship before tonight.

Unable to conjure a believable answer, I plopped down into a seat by the fire, rubbing at my upper arms to try to generate some heat.

Unusually cold for July, isn't it?

The full moon peeked over the horizon, illuminating the darkness and obscuring the stars just a bit. A chill stole over my flesh and I shuffled closer to the fire. My stepmother did the same, the legs of her lawn chair clinking against mine as we stared at the dancing flames. I stifled a yawn and shivered. My body felt distant and cold. Slouching in the chair, I muttered something unintelligible. My head flopped against her arm. She cast her's over my shoulder, pulling me closer.

"That's right dear, nothing left but to relax. Everything will be just fine." Her voice had an anticipatory sinisterness as it escorted me into a darkness from which there would be no return.

I was roused by guttural chanting coming from my stepmom's lungs, unnaturally loud, the tonal vibrations seemed to vibrate within my core, making some strange force sit up and take notice. Something primal. Something dark. During the time I was out, the moon had reached its peak directly overhead and we were no longer next to the bonfire, mother having moved me somewhere deeper into the forest during the time I was asleep. We were surrounded by a secluded glade, ringed in by untamed wilderness that'd remained untouched by civilization through the eons. The trees seemed to press in after us, the darkness between their branches reaching out to caress us in greedy embraces.

"What- What's going on?" I croaked, my throat parched and scratchy.

"Ah, you're awake. Good," my stepmother purred, sauntering towards me.

I tried to move.

Only to realize that my limbs were completely restrained, purple leafy vines encircling all four of my appendages and stretched me out wide like the Vitruvian man. A spongy surface supported my back in the form of an enormous mushroom that glowed with a gentle blue bioluminescence.

Before I could repeat my question, Shana silenced me with a kiss. Thrusting her tongue into my mouth, she forced herself upon me with scorching ardor. My lips parted instinctually in surprise and she filled me with impossible passion. When our lips separated, my lungs strained for breath and my heart thumped against my ribcage.

"You've been chosen, daughter of my heart if not my loins, to join me in worship of the Spider Goddess."

It was now, off balance and mind whirling, that I noticed how Shana didn't look quite like I remembered her.

Her eyes were a uniform creamy white and swirled with formless depths. Sweeping arches curled back from beneath her temples in the form of delicate looking ears, and framed a solid plane of bluish-black hair that hung in a uniform sheet down to her waist. She seemed taller than before, her cheekbones sharp, lending her an aristocratic edge. Both her fingers and her neck appeared thinner, giving her proportions an exotic, almost elemental, look.

She was also completely naked.

Dark blue, almost black, areola tipped generous breasts with a hue that matched those of her smirking lips. It was hard to tell in the washed out moonlight, but her skin seemed a different shade, no longer a California-girl caramel; it instead reminded me of lilac flowers, a pale purple soft enough to invite touch and promised sinfully decadent things. The thing that was the biggest shock however, dangled between her legs in the form of a flaccid five inch cock. It was the first that I'd seen in years, the last being when my father was out of clean underwear and decided to march down to the laundry room in the buff. It'd taken a healthy amount of self denial, and days of awkwardly averted gazes, before I'd managed to scrub that particular image from my mind. Only to have it come swinging back and clock me in the face. Proverbially, as my stepmother still stood a couple feet away.

"Now it's time to be quiet, I have work to do. Be strong for me now, honey." She pinched her thumb and forefinger together on both hands, bringing them together before separating. A vine much like the ones restraining me sprung into existence and she set it over my mouth where it wiggled around and pulled tight, parting my lips and gagging me.

A dark paste of menacing spices and dangerous liquids were mixed together in a small stone bowl as she used her thumb to mash and stir it up. Regardless, the scent tantalized the thing inside me and I found I couldn't look away as she finger painted her way up and down my restrained body. Three dots were placed on each of my cheeks, starting under my eyes and curling towards the sides of my jaw. The majority of her time she spent on my torso, making me watch, mute with confusion, while she drew a simple spider on my belly, whose head lay between my breasts. It's legs splayed out across my body, half of them reaching up my body and half of them sprawling down. The lower ones reached around my waist and framed my sex. The upper ones reached up towards my shoulders and nestled into the hollow formed by my collarbone and neck. She knelt down and wiped her thumb and forefinger clean on the grass. The plant matter pubbled and spit, withering away with a puff of smoke. I couldn't help but follow her with my eyes, attention fixed on her modest but entrancing breasts. Perfectly shaped, they were round beacons, capped with those exotic nipples.

When she rose, she tilted her head and caught me looking. I blushed scarlet, ashamed at the arousal the slinked within my body like a cat-burglar, its sticky fingers stealing reason and logic at every opportunity. Placing a kiss on each of my sensitive nipples, my stepmother forced me to moan into the gag. I turned my head, unable to look at her while under the influence of this twisted incestuous desire.

After favoring me with a smile that made my insides bunch and lurch, she began to chant. "Flesh, not of my flesh. Blood, not of my blood. Spirit of my spirit. Anointed in the sacrament of our lady in the light of her moon, I bid you to awaken. Embrace the glory of the dark things in this world. The quiet things. The watchful things. Cast off your form and become mine within the web of our goddess. Thia, I impart upon you the first aspect of our lady: cunning. May you revel in a scheme well laid and rejoice in an enemy thwarted. The shadows shall be your friends and companions as you walk in the world renewed." Setting her hand at my temples, she bracketed my head. A frisson of energy jolted between them, catalyzing the tribal markings, making them bubble and smoke on my face. I struggled against my restraints but found no wiggle room, no way to escape. My destiny swooped down on silent wings, snatching me away from my world of normality with raven colored claws.

The changes started with my ears, the cartilage pulling back into sweeping arches. There was a part of me that wanted to protest her taking my flesh and making it her own. This was drowned out in the symphony of pleasure that overtook me. Had I not been gagged my moans would've rung out in the glade. As it was, my muffled noises were indecipherable from around the fibrous green chord that easily withstood my clenched teeth. The fleshy appendage that swung between my stepmom's legs twitched, the first of a series of stirrings that led to a single destination.

My eyes were next, between one blink and the next my irises fading, whitewashed into uniformly milky orbs. The previously dim glade lit up as if under the light of a noonday sun, distant details becoming clear. Shana kissed my gagged mouth, the darkness of her lips corrupting my own into dark petals of temptation. Whatever she was doing creeped inward, subtly influencing my thoughts. Shame was the first thing to go, replaced with an eager acceptance of the pleasing nature of her form, regardless of the source. The lust coursing through my veins doubled. Then redoubled, until I was more worked up than I had ever been in my entire life. And yet, somehow I still remained in control, no longer a slave to my arousal I somehow remained above it. Plans and schemes whirled through my mind, considered and discarded in the same instant.

Mother will never know what hit her.

The thought jolted me from the headspace I'd fallen into. The snarky girl I'd been before tonight clawed at the morass she'd fallen into, protesting the use of that moniker for the woman I'd forever insisted would be my stepmother. My hair darkened into a light-swallowing ebony and lengthened into a perfectly maintained waterfall long enough to tickle the bottom of my breasts were I to stand upright. Shaking my head, I felt who I'd been succumb to the inevitable morass of who I was meant to be, finally accepting our goddess and her apostle into my heart.

Mother is so beautiful.

She noticed my smile, correctly understanding the paradigm shift it signaled. "Daughter, I love you so much." Gently cupped my cheek in her hand, she held me still and I leaned into it. "Oh, were going to have such fun together," she promised, removing the gagging vine which was no longer necessary.

"Fuck me," I whispered below the level of even our enhanced hearing. Throwing my head back, I ground the sensitive tips of my ears into the spongy mycellin surface. My ankles strained against my restraints, trying in vain to apply some sensation to my needy sex. My mother's delicate fingers patted at my sodden lips and I nearly cried out in relief. Unfortunately, she was only teasing me, and had no intention of supplying any amount of satisfaction.

Yet.

She patted it twice before wiggling it around with the flat plane of her combined fingers.

"Please fuck me," I whined, this time audibly. The need multiplied in my chest and I became desperate, almost delirious. "Fuck me now!" I demanded, teeth bared and eyes blazing.

'Thwap!'

A stinging swat connected with the side of my ass, silencing me. The hit managed to quell my rage and calm me down, the need mollified, swiftly tamed by her experienced hand.

She's never hit me before, I thought with astonishment. And why did I like it?

"Better?" she asked, every inch of her the epitome of control.

Cheeks shaded red with shame, and I ducked my head to the side. She petted my head affectionately. "Just be patient, you've got a fair bit to go before we get to the main event."

I pouted, looking distraught at this information. I wanted sex. And I wanted it now. Shana wasn't affected by my begging eyes in the least; having a job to do, she would not be rushed.

"Thia, I impart upon you the second aspect of our lady: quickness. With the silent strength of the goddess may you strike from the shadows, swiftly and without remorse." She ran her hands over my body, her palms somehow focusing the moonlight into a catalyst that painted my flesh with violet. Starting with my left calf, she kneaded at my body like a particularly stiff ball of bread dough. Deeper and deeper, her palm plied my flesh with energy that was alien to this realm, changing its base structure, strengthening my muscles and reinforcing my bones. After she was done with the left calf she moved to the right before continuing the procedure for both my arms. At the end of it all, I looked like a doll in which the child had taken lilac limbs and secured them to a pale skinned torso.

"Such a pretty child," Shana said, vaulting up onto the mushroom. Her muscular thighs straddled my waist, her now mostly erect cock lying on my stomach. Leaning forward, she pressed her hands into my breasts, rubbing my nipples with her thumbs. The violet coloration spread, watercolor spread by means of her delicate looking fingers that hid considerable strength. Areola widened a miniscule amount, its bumpy protrusions becoming more sensitive, while the underlying structure of my tits firmed up, plumping only slightly but gaining an exquisite shape. I marveled how good they looked for a second. For years now, I'd desperately wished for better breasts, my own felt small when I compared them against my peers. My stepmom had reassured me that I'd grow into them, that puberty affected people in different ways, at different rates.

I didn't know this was what she meant.

While I was otherwise distracted, Shana finished my transition, fully converting the rest of my body to that of a dark elf. I, however, was more concerned with the way my breasts pushed up from my chest, their heaviness as I rotated my toso, and how they seemed to hold onto any motion for maybe half a second before springing back into place. Amused by my antics, Shana slowly shifted her hips, working her way back toward my feet.

"This is fantast-" Whatever I'd been about to say was lost into a gut-punched groan as my mother slipped her dick between my lips, forcing herself inside in a single firm thrust.

"You were saying?" my tormenter cockily provoked, amused by my skewered expression.

I felt like a stuffed turkey. My lungs protested their new roommate, the space they normally occupied now seemed to be filled with dick.

"I-"

She thrust again before I could get more than a single syllable out.

"You-"

Another gut-punching hip slap.

I gave up trying to speak, devolving into high pitched squeaks of bliss, laying back and letting her plunder my body, pleasuring us both in the process.

"Keep chirping little bird, pretty soon I'll have you singing," she said in a promise that half felt like a threat. Mother made no effort to hide the satisfaction she was receiving, taking really, from my flesh. Then, deep inside my gut, a muscle jumped and mother was the one who groaned. I hadn't been aware that that particular function had existed in my body.

But now that it's been brought to my attention...

I focused on that particular area and flexed. My pussy gripped her dick, protesting it's retreat with a steady constriction. Her fingers dug into my hips and her pace slowed a bit but her motion deepened.

I... I'm doing this. I'm giving her pleasure.

Testing various methods, I found the one that seemed to work best, a light but steady pressure on every forward stroke, making her work for every entrance, and then a pulsing grip during the retreat, hard as I could go. My efforts were helped by my new biology and the instinctive muscular control that came with it. She bit the inside of her cheek, eyes flashing dangerously in the moonlight. Her quads flexed beautifully in the glade, the chatter of nocturnal creatures swirling around us in a growing frenzy. Even as she pounded into my body, I fell into a sort of trance, the ecstasy that'd threatened to consume me fading into the background.

There is grace in the surrender. She needs me. Beyond taboo and convention, she wanted me enough to take me. To steal me away from society's conventions and give me this wonderful gift. I'm valuable to her, cherished even, and I'm the one with which she shares this blessing.

Popping my hips against her thrusts, our bodies slapped against one another, her climax drawing near. Through her actions, she'd given me a sense of self-worth, an unspoken assurance that I was valued, that I was loved, notarized with every flash of pleasure in her striking visage. I'd had struggles with confidence, like many teenagers, wondering about what others thought about me. But, at this moment, with this woman, I'd never felt stronger.