Slow Burn

And the- her eyes dilated as more blood vessels burst within her sclera.

hunger so very hungry

A gray haze radiated from his body, vanishing before reappearing. Over and over. It almost appeared to be a trick of the light or a problem with her eyes as the gray light - no, white now and almost completely transparent. It faded but she found herself inhaling deeply as if tasting him. The void inside of her shifted, seemingly attaching itself to her spine so that she felt the ache throughout her entire body from between her thighs to the back of her neck. It was a numb, thrilling pain that made her wriggle in her seat as hairs stood up on the nape of her neck.

want need devour

"I wish everyone would stop asking me that," she told him, searching for the aura that had surrounded him. She wrapped her arms around her chest, subconsciously pushing her breasts out as she scratched her elbows and the backs of her arms.

A fractured sequence of images filled her mind. His zipper. Her hands on him. On his dick. Her mouth. Wet. Hardness.

The girl's eyes shrunk to vertical slits as she pressed her nails hard into the tingling skin above her elbow. Spit filled her mouth and she found herself swirling her tongue against the inside of her mouth. The angry violet coloring crept forward from the back of her tongue in striated lines, halting before spreading too far.

"I'm sorry," the boy said, fidgeting in his spot. He opened his mouth to say something before frowning and looking down at his shoes. "I- I've gotta go sit with Jason. But, if you want to talk about anything, I'm here. And the counselor is good. The school counselor. I talked with him when my mom left a couple years ago. And I- I'm sorry. I'll just be over there. If you need anything."

"Poor boy," Nora said with a sigh as Duncan left. "He has it bad for you. Why won't you go to prom with him?"

"Papa wouldn't accept it," she answered, returning to pick at her food. Her arms throbbed from the tips of her fingers to her shoulders.

"Because he's black?" her friend asked.

"No," Fatma said. "Well, I don't know. Maybe. But he's an atheist."

fool fool fool fool

"He lets you hang out with me," the other girl replied. "And I don't believe."

"Your parents do," Fatma said, finally spearing a piece of meat. "And I know you do, too. At least a little. He'd think Duncan was a fool for not believing."

"Psh," Nora snorted. "Your father loves you more than anything. He'd want you to be happy more than anything else. As long as you kept your faith, I think he'd be fine. Prom is tomorrow night! Even if you didn't start dating, you could at least just go with him. He'd be happy to dance with you whatever you're wearing."

Fatma opened her left hand, absentmindedly flicking the pile of black ash away from her table. She pushed around her food as her friend ate until a bell chimed and they got ready for their next class.

---

The noise from the bus rattled Fatma as she lay her head against the slim window next to her. She'd woken with energy but, as the day progressed, found herself growing weary.

food so many so young taste them draw from them

She closed her eyes, trying to rouse herself but the exhaustion held her down like weights. Yet, all around her the other teenagers burst with energy, rattling her nerves with their loud voices and shouts. She could almost taste the hormones flooding the bus and she found herself drawing it in. Drawing from their youthful vigor to remind herself that she was fine. That she was strong and young. Oddly enough, it seemed to work. And even better, the raucous noise quieted slightly around her.

The girl's hijab shifted as she sat up straighter. She opened her jaw, pushing it forward as pressure filled her temples. Her ears slowly tilted back in a slight angle while the ridges beneath the rounded tops flowed outward, pulling at the skin. The scarf moved around her as the sharp tips of her ears slid through her hair.

Fatma scratched at her cheek before pressing her thumb against the joint of her jaw. The pressure subsided as she massaged her face. She hummed to herself and then stretched, raising her hands above her head. The exhaustion was gone, not completely but she felt awake again.

Tiny flecks of black coloring emerged beneath the skin of her nostrils. She rubbed her nose and then pressed a finger against her mouth as similar dots appeared in the cracks of her lips. They swelled at her touch, the thin, pink skin becoming full as they bulged outward. Her short canines, rounded and dull and flush with the incisors next to them, grew to thin, sharp points. The enamel reshaped until the tips jutted beneath the surrounding teeth.

changing becoming

She smiled, lightly scratching at the sensitive side of her belly. Ever since Duncan spoke with her in the lunchroom, she'd found herself distracted. Odd touches made her jump as she felt her body become more sensitive.

Reaching back, she scratched along her spine while biting into her full lips. She couldn't stop herself from writhing with her forehead pressed against the seat in front of her as the feel of her nails sent hot pulses down her body. It was a welcome change from the lethargy she felt earlier.

Beneath her blouse, dry, dead skin flaked away. The more the scratched, the more came free until, pressing hard while hissing in pleasure, she cut deep beneath her flesh.

A ridged, black protrusion lay exposed in the small tear of her skin.

"Duncan," she whispered.

The girl was chaste; her seclusion, religion and shyness kept her from the moral corruptions that existed on the Internet and among the small group of her friends. She knew what a naked man looked like, had rough ideas of how it all worked but seldom imagined it. It had always seemed wrong. Her nightly routine was established years and years ago with her father. The Isha and Dhikr prayers at bedtime made the rare, sexually curious thought feel wrong.

Fatma shivered, digging her nails into the backs of her arms as she moaned quietly in her seat. She lay against the window again as Duncan came to mind. Again. He would be warm. Gentle and kind with her.

rough slapping choking forcing taking

Guiding her, showing her what he wanted. Pushing her hand down to his zipper until she freed his manhood. She imagined it as dark as he was. And large. Large enough to choke on.

Choke on it? She wondered as she pressed her thighs together. She felt warm between the legs and, as she tensed, the muscles of her pussy clenched and slipped, wet with her arousal. Would I kiss it? Taking it in my mouth as he forced my head down.

Her breath was hot and fast as she struggled with the image. Imagining herself not going to her knees. It felt wrong. And dirty. To put her mouth on his penis.

In her mind, he slapped her and she gasped, clawing at her right elbow while thrusting her hand between her thighs. Duncan's face was twisted with absurd need as he slapped her again. The rough treatment forced a moan from her lips as she pictured herself being forced down.

Blood suffused her tanned cheeks until they were reddened in shame, guilt and the desire for more. The blood appeared to leech into her cheeks until her very skin was tinted crimson. It spread along the bridge of her nose and down her jaw, reaching halfway down her throat.

She felt drained again, her mouth dry as she rubbed the edge of her hand between her lips. Her pants were wet and she shuddered each time the sawing motion rubbed her clit. She could feel Duncan's hand in her hair, clutching her painfully tight.

The light red coloring covering her sclera began to leak into her brown irises.

But that started to feel wrong. She frowned with her eyes closed. Her inexperience had her picturing herself kissing his cock but she suddenly saw herself digging her claws into his belly, forcing him down as she wrested control away from him.

The bus screeched to a stop, forcing Fatma out of her reverie. Her thoughts vanished in smoke, leaving her confused.

She was- she thought- She rubbed her eyes as she spread her legs. A scent wafted to her nose. Pulling her hand away, she inhaled and brought it closer. A light fog formed in her brain as she smelled the heady, sweet scent covering her hand. She blinked slowly until the bus driver called her name, pulling her back once again.

The girl grabbed her backpack in a rush as she barreled through the bus and outside. Her heart pounded as she hefted her backpack to walk down the sidewalk with her head bowed. She remembered most of the ride but-

Oh, was I really thinking of Duncan in that way? she could see him again, guiding her hand and the shame of her excitement made her clutch her backpack harder.

Electricity coursed through her body. She froze and looked up to find herself standing outside Ms. Maiben's home. Fatma licked her lips, taking a half-step towards the concrete stairs leading up to the front door. The void clinging to her spine trembled and she snarled without realizing it. She could almost hear the old woman, far in the distance at the back of her mind. Screaming in agony to match the expression she died with.

free consumed and owned ours now

Fatma's tongue slipped free from her pouty lips. It narrowed as it slid forth and the tip flicked as the purple coloring continued to spread like ink spilled in a cup of water. Swirling and racing and curling along her narrow, long tongue until not a single spot of pink remained.

She played and replayed the final moments of the woman's death and the faint, echoing screams continued. The memory of the night before, lying in bed while feeling guilty was alien to her now. She'd done what she could and the woman had deserved it. She was old. Past her time. Taking up space the younger generation needed. That she needed. The the hunger demanded. Holding her back. Restraining her. Bottling her up until she broke free to take her payment.

Anger flared within her as she struggled to understand why. She stared at the door, feeling the unnatural emptiness beyond. She'd visited the old woman many times with her father but, overlaid on that was decades of time. She couldn't shake the oddness of it, the double echo of the times she'd brought food with the strange feeling of raging restraint. The girl snarled, opening her mouth to show her small fangs as her tongue flicked out.

The soft, tanned skin of her neck burned bright red as the coloring spread to her shoulders.

Finally, the young girl continued on, lightly jumping up the steps to her own home as she hummed a tune to drown out the nearly inaudible howling.

Once past the threshold of her own home, a weak headache bloomed at the center of her brain. She ground her sharp teeth but forced herself onward. There was time for her to work on her homework before the Maghrib prayer and she needed to focus. Her teacher had sent her home with her calculus test to revise for extra credit.

---

After more than two hours of sitting in her bed, working slowly through her test, Fatma slammed her book shut with a cry of frustration. Her headache beat a nasty rhythm in her brain and she found herself distracted. Uneasy.

Her back was sore. She reached around to press her fingertips beneath the band of her pants to massage herself. It felt inflamed and sore at her touch.

Her anxiety built until she glanced at her windows. Had she missed pra-

distract resist pain pain feed need to feed

The girl grunted, pressing the palm of her hand against her temple as the void growled in her stomach. Wavy clear lines vibrated in her eyesight until she squeezed her eyes closed. Beneath her eyelids, brown vanished to leave nothing but the black slits of her pupils centered in pure, deep red.

She swung her legs over the bed, wobbling to her feet as she made her way to the bathroom. They kept bottles of headache pills in the medicine cabinet and she knew she'd need them if she were going to keep studying.

The light flicked on and she screamed as she caught her own reflection. Her lips were jet black, full and soft against a face the shade of pure blood. Sharp little fangs protruded and her tongue, a pearlescent purple, writhed behind them. She covered her mouth and her eyes widened, the vertical slits opening to full ovals.

awake

"Who's there?!" Fatma yelled, slamming herself back against the wall as the strange voice filled her head.

we are one

Blood welled at the edge of the girl's eyes, falling against her cheeks as she lowered herself. An uncomfortable pressure stabbed into her lower back and the band of her trousers bulged to contain the rounded nub of her tail.

feed we hunger

"Go away! Go away!" she screamed, pressing her palms against her ears. It was impossible to block the sound but she pulled her knees up to press her face against them with her hands firmly against her ears. "What did you do to me?!"

host we are one soon

"No, please, no," she sobbed, blood dotting her dark blouse as she cried. "I'm- I'm good. Allah-"

Pain exploded behind her eyes, cutting her off.

not his tainted blessed forever

"No," she whimpered.

The girl's mind swam as she felt the wall moving against her back. It knew she sat stationary on the ground but the sensation confused it until tiny, invisible hooks dug deeper into her soul. It knew, then, that she still sat and it was simply her tail moving against the wall. Growing.

Fatma gasped, reaching back to grab it. It was slick, slimy and thick in her hand and she yelped before releasing it. It felt warm and strong. Worse, the tip was sliding against her bare back. Bumping against-

She stood, sniffling as she turned and raised her shirt. Her short tail pulled free. The tip bulged at the sides like a club but she focused on her back. On the tears in her skin over her spine. On the black ridges that those gouges exposed.

"La hawla wala quwwata -" she spoke out loud, the pain in her head increasing with each word until she couldn't bear it. She collapsed to her knees, her hands tearing at her hijab as she bent forward with her short tail flailing behind her.

anger rage

She screamed, flinging the scarf as anger filled her. She hadn't asked for this. It had started when her father sent her to Ms. Maiben's house. The doubt and guilt filling her. Everything was fine until then. She hadn't wanted to go.

An image of the bottle was forced into her mind's eye.

Nora! she snarled in rage. That bitch did this to me! Cursed me! And that old hag! Kept the- the fucking thing trapped! The flame in the bottle. The demon! I can't live like this! I can't be seen like this!

hide conceal yourself

"How?! How, damn you?!" she yelled, panting on her hands and knees. She could feel the muscles and skin moving on her lower back as the tail pulled at her.

feed

Another image. Her father. Asleep with her standing over him.

Dark pink filled her red cheeks.

"No," she whispered. "No, I won't."

Another image, her hiding as a mob chased her. As her father cursed her name. But, suddenly, it shifted. Her father, telling her to go to Ms. Maiben's house. His face was knowing. Smirking. Sending her to her doom.

"It wasn't-" she struggled. "It wasn't like that."

feed

She clutched at her stomach, snarling. Her fangs lengthened. She was hungry. Weak. She could feel it now, the difference of it.

Keys jingled in the doorway of the living room. Fatma's red eyes widened.

"Papa!" she gasped. In a blur of speed, she leapt for her scarf, snatching it from the ground before running to her room and closing the door.

"Fatma?" Faizan called out. "Are you home?"

She turned, her back to the door until she felt her tail sliding against the cool sheets. The girl panicked, grabbing it and pulling it between her thighs. It resisted but she clamped her legs together, trapping it. As short as it was, the tip lay against her sex. She held it with one arm while starting at the wall next to her bed.

"Fatma?" her father asked gently, knocking on her door. "Will you join me for evening prayer?"

lust desire sin

Her tail calmed and she breathed a sigh of relief until the head began rocking slightly back and forth. She gasped, biting her lips painfully as the thick head pressed into her clit and between her lips.

"Daughter?"

"Nooo," Fatma moaned. Duncan, on his back. Waiting for her command. His cock huge and erect. Blood pounded between her thighs and her ass moved. She clawed the bed with her free hand as her hips rocked back and forth in time to the movement of her tail.

Her slick, pink pussy lips darkened as they became engorged. Her wrist pushed at her restrained tail, guiding it to press where it felt best.

"Are you still- does her-" her father said, uncertain of what to ask. "I'll prepare some food for you before I go to bed. I love you, Fatma."

"Yessss," the girl groaned, biting at her blanket.

lust pleasure lust pleasure lustlustlustlust

She clawed at her pants as her suddenly freed tail arched back. She unzipped herself before shoving her pants down to expose her throbbing, aching sex. Muscle flexed in her back as the dark hooks sunk deeper. She turned, laying on her stomach while she brought her tail between her legs. It obeyed her command as she found the fine motor control needed to move it properly.

Fatma could feel the burning heat from her pussy against the smooth skin of her tail. It slipped between her wet lips and she buried her face into her pillow to hide her moans. Her long ears vibrated as strong muscles forced the tail to grind against her.

profane fuck inhibitions

In her eyes, she lay astride Duncan, his cock pinned against her body as she slid against his thickness.

Yet it wasn't enough. Not fully grown, her tail couldn't flex enough to enter her. She reached back, grabbing the slick head. Without hesitation, she shoved it inside, screaming as she took her own virginity.

Grunting, groaning and growling, she worked the bulbous tip in and out of her tight pussy, feeling the growing pressure build.

Smoke issued from her black nose. She turned her face to breathe and her lust-filled mouth opened wide to expose her tongue. It lengthened further, the tip growing to a sharp point as rough bumps formed along the top.

Fatma bit into her pillow, shaking her head like a predator taking down its prey as her first orgasm exploded through her body. She kicked her aching feet while lifting her hips and screaming through clenching teeth.

more joined more need more lust unfulfilled tainted more tainted

we need more

"Yessss!" Fatma gasped in agreement. She released her hand as her tail grew longer and it plunged deep inside of her as she raised herself to her hands and knees with her head bowed, lost in the depths of her own pleasure.

---

Silence filled the house.

feed

Fatma shook her head against the voice. She lay exhausted, her bed sheets soaked with her juices. Burn marks dotted the sheets beneath her.

conceal feed hunger

"I- I can't," she gasped. The pain of the void was nearly intolerable. Her feet ached and her forehead throbbed while her joints flared in agony.

must

anger lies