The Dark Matter on the Edge of Town

>You were raised in a village that lies on the border of a large swathe of monstergirl territory

>Your people are wary of monstergirls, but cannot afford to be openly hostile, being an island of humans in a sea of monsters

>Yours was a conservative and xenophobic family, especially in their rearing of you, as you were their only male child

>”No matter how friendly a monstergirl seems, it’s all a ruse. They’re abominations”

>You learned to live by this credo, developing a stalwart hatred of monstergirls, thanking god that you’d never had the misfortune to actually meet one. You were quite open in your distaste too, with everyone except your doting elder sister, who always seemed to have a kind word ready to disarm your vitriol.

>Unable to find gainful employment within the confines of the city, you entered into an apprenticeship with a woodsman and eventually staked a claim at the edge of human territory, large tracks of woodland separating your cabin from the next dwelling.

>You head into town one day to trade your stock of furs and herbs for supplies, and are shocked to see a lamia with a human in tow at the trading post

>You angrily ask the shopkeeper what the hell a monstergirl is doing inside the city. He shrugs.

>”She just came in from the woods with him one day. They say they’re married. I never saw any ceremony, but they seem to like each other and they don’t cause any trouble”

>You shake your head in disgust and go about buying your supplies as quickly as possible

>”Hi there human! I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

>You whirl around at the sound of the lamia’s sibilant voice, your heart in your throat. You didn’t even hear her approaching.

>”No, we haven’t”

>You ignore her proffered hand and her “husband’s” look of angry incredulity and begin packing up your purchases

>You leave as quickly as you can without looking like you’re actually running

 

>The next time you come into town there are a few dozen monstergirls living there with their husbands

>The time after that, your village has become a bastion of monster-human integration. It’s no longer just married monstergirls coming in to be with their husbands, but single monstergirls hearing of how tolerant the town is coming in to find a mate.

>You resolve to have none of this foolishness

>You begin curing and drying more and more of your catches, stockpiling food for the future, and you spend your evenings fashioning arrows and honing your knives and hatchets

>Acting on the advice of a mage from town, you inscribe the walls of your cabin with runes to protect you from demonic magic

>One day, as you trudge through the woods to check your traps, you spot something hovering in the air over town

>It’s a Dark Matter. It’s finally happening. Your village is being remade into a demon realm.

>You run with all the speed you can muster back to your cabin. You bar the door and begin boarding the windows

>Just as the last nail falls into place, a pulse of demonic energy washes over your home. The runes begin to glow red hot as they resist the wave of darkness hammering at them. You smell smoke as they begin to burn away.

>After what feels like an eternity of watching your only form of magical protection evaporate into the air, the pulse finally ceases. >Your wards are damaged, but intact, and you’re still human as far as you can tell

>By nightfall, cries of agony or ecstasy, you aren’t sure which, are echoing through the woods

>The cacophony of voices makes it hard to sleep, but eventually exhaustion overtakes you

 

>You’re awoken the next day by the sound of excited chatter in the distance

>You heave yourself up to the window, peering between the boards to see a throng of monstergirls of all shapes and sizes heading your way

>You grab your axe and quickly throw yourself against the door, hoping that the extra weight you put against it will keep you that much safer

>You see shadows flicker through the windows as the mob slowly surrounds you

>”We know you’re in there Anon. Won’t you come out and play with us?”

>The door and windows rattle as they try to gain entrance. Eyes ranging from the unsettlingly human to bizarre reptilian and entomic orbs stare at you between the boards

>”We’ve got all day and night to do this you know. Your food will run out eventually, and when that happens we’ll be ready for you”

>You brace yourself harder against the door and try to shut them out. After they exhaust their supply of pre-prepared remarks, you start to hear gasps and coos emanating from outside. You take a chance and peak out through the nearest window

>Several of them have stripped naked and started masturbating. Their nether regions are on full display as they stimulate themselves. Once they realize you’re watching, they begin moaning even louder, and several begin lasciviously describing the things they could do to you if you’d only give yourself up.

>You huddle back against the door, trying not to think about the horrible temptation of what you’ve just seen

>You sit there for the rest of the day, listening to the monstergirl’s continued taunts and promises of pleasure, until you finally fall asleep, parched and hungry but not daring to move away from the door

 

>Your sleep is troubled by an unpleasant dream of your elder sister, usually so kind to you, yelling angrily over something.

>”…you’re scaring him you idiots! Get lost! Can’t you see you’re driving him crazy?”

>You realize that the yelling isn’t just in your dreams

>”But we…”

>”I don't care! He’s never going to come out of there with all of you harassing him. Go look for a husband somewhere else”

>That’s definitely your sister’s voice.

>You scramble to your feet and lurch to the window, just barely catching a glimpse of her shoulder as she approaches your door.

>”Anon, it’s me”

>You’re so happy to hear her voice after so much time apart that part of you wants to throw the door open and wrap her in a hug, but you restrain yourself, knowing that what's on the other side of the door can’t really be your sister no matter how much you want it to be.

>”I’m sorry about all that Anon, they’re good girls I’m sure, just a bit over-enthusiastic”

>”With all the monstergirls coming into town on top of all the humans that have changed, we haven’t all managed to find a husband yet”

>We. Not they. That answers that question.

>You hear the door creak slightly as she rests her hand against it

>”We’d never hurt you Anon”

>Please. Don’t start.

>The door rattles in its frame as she tries the handle

>”Anon, let me in”

 

>You can’t handle this. Not from her. A gang of strangers was one thing but to hear the voice of your beloved sister trying to coax you out day after day….

>You don’t know whether to scream or break down crying. You try to do both, but they collide on their way out of your throat and all you can manage is a miserable croak.

>The door stops rattling.

>Your sister sighs, the way she used to when you were going through puberty and had decided that you were too cool for her affection. You can almost see her resting her cheek on her hand, that familiar look of patient exasperation on her face

>”It’s okay if you don’t want to come out yet. Take as long as you need”

>”Are you okay in there? Do you have enough to eat?”

>It’s a trick. It has to be. She’s trying the soft approach to get you out.

>You remain silent.

>”Not in a chatty mood are we? That’s okay too. I’ll wait”

>You hear creaking from the porch as she seats herself in front of the door

>”So what did you do today? Me I….”

>She starts telling you about her day, describing her new cookbook, cleaning her home, planting flowers, deliberately glossing over the fact that she and everyone else in town are now monstergirls or incubi

>You find yourself enjoying listening to her, her gentle voice bringing you back to your childhood together, but a nagging voice in the back of your head keeps chiming in to remind you that this is just a ruse, and you say nothing in return

>Eventually she runs out of story to tell, and you hear shuffling as she stands back up

>”Well, it’s getting late, I’d better be going. I’ll come back to see you tomorrow”

>You hear a trio of wooden thumps as she descends the porch stairs down to the dirt path through the woods. You’re tempted to look out the window after her, but fear of what you might see holds you back.

>You wait until you’re sure she must be out of sight before you move away from the door and sit down to what will be the first of many meals of dry goods and preserves.

 

>Your sister starts visiting you for a few hours every day, chatting with you from the far side of the door. Though you can’t muster the courage to look at what she’s become, it doesn’t take long before you lose the will to shut her out and start talking back.

>She carefully steers clear of talking about the change your entire town has undergone, keeping the discussion firmly on idle pleasantries. You reciprocate; settling into a routine of acting like everything is normal and that it really is your sister out there, patiently waiting for you to stop acting so silly and come join her.

>You tell yourself that you’re doing this to avoid rousing her suspicions while you formulate an escape plan, but part of you knows that you’re just enjoying the bizarre family reunion.

>Another part of you knows that there is no escape

>Travelling through the forest is out of the question. It stretches farther than anyone has been able to map, and every cartographer who has dared to try and come back told of countless monsters inhabiting it, their population growing denser the deeper you ventured. Even your master didn’t dare to travel too far beyond the well-explored reaches of the woods.

>Your prospects for travelling further into human territory are little better. Even if you manage to make it through town, you have no idea just how far the dark matter’s taint has spread.

>You’re trapped.

 

>The hopelessness of your situation starts to weigh heavier and heavier on your mind, and one evening, as you take stock of your meager cache you start to seriously consider just what you’ll do when the food runs out.

>Maybe you’ll just off yourself. Being dead is probably better than contemplating how much smaller your meals will have to be to make your pemmican and porter cake last another week while you smalltalk with a monstrous facsimile of your elder sister.

>Ugh. Pemmican and porter cake. And jerky. And pickles. Dense, dry, tough, tart, and getting moreso all the time as the passing days take their toll. Served cold and washed down with stagnant water at every meal. What you wouldn’t give for something hot and fresh. Something light. Something like those wonderful turnovers your sister used to make on holidays…

>Your dreams that night are filled with oven-fresh pastries and lemonade

 

>Knock knock knock

>”Anon, are you there?”

>You stir, shaking the haze of sleep from your head. You’ve overslept.

>”Are you in there? Hello?”

>You answer in the affirmative as you slouch over to the door

>”Oh good, I was starting to think you’d gone and left me”

>You grimace, unsure if you’re being mocked.

>”I baked you some of those turnovers you like, you must be getting awfully tired of eating the same thing every day right?”

>How thoughtful. You had just been thinking about those too…

>You nearly slap yourself as you catch yourself absently reaching for the door. Something’s up.

>How did she know you were thinking about those turnovers? Can she read your mind? Does she know you’re trying to find a way to escape? Is she telling the others to be ready to head you off?

>Your private panic attack is interrupted by your sister clearing her throat

>”I’ll um, just leave these by the door then…”

>”Goodbye”

>She clicks down the porch steps and off into the woods

>You resolve not to open the door

>The smell of the pastries starts to penetrate between the slats of the door. Your neglected stomach growls.

>Who the hell are you kidding? You want them and you want them now.

>There’s no one out there. Nothing bad will happen if you open the door

>Nothing bad at all, right?

>This time you do slap yourself. You’re acting crazy. Keeping the door barred has become a deranged obsession for you

>You take a deep breath and lift the bar from the door

>Nothing happens

>You ease the door open, giving you a clear view of the linen-lined basket of turnovers on the porch

>Nothing happens

>You snatch up the basket and all but leap back inside

>Still nothing happens

>You chomp down on one of the pastries. The crust is so flaky it shatters when you bite into it, the filling tart and sweet with cooked berries and spices.

>The entire basket is gone in minutes

 

>It doesn’t occur to you until after you finish devouring your sister’s gift that she could have done something horrible to those turnovers

>You try to summon the courage to force yourself to vomit. You get as far as putting your finger in your mouth before the instinctive aversion to discomfort asserts itself and you force your gorge back down

>Lacking anything better to do, you go back bed, hoping that you’ll still be human when you wake up

>Hours pass

>You haul yourself out of your half-asleep pseudo-dreams and sit upright. You prod experimentally at your body

>You’re still human, near as you can tell

>You think about the fear-crazed haze you’ve been in for….how long now? How long have you been living here? How long have you been alternating between plotting some grand escape fit for a bard’s tale and pretending that the person you’re talking to through the door isn’t a monster?

>You decide you’re going to have to do something new

 

>You’re up with the dawn the next day

>You sit with your back to the door, patiently waiting for your sister’s arrival

>Though you’ve been waiting for hours, you feel as though you’ve just gotten up when your sister arrives

>”Anon? Are you up?”

>You greet her to let her know you’re there, but say no more and let her get to telling you about what she’s been up to

>Eventually she runs out of stories to tell and pauses as she searches for something to say. You decide to finally bring up the elephant in the room

>”What’s it like, being a monster?”

>You hear nothing from the far side of the door for a long time.

>”It…It doesn’t hurt if that’s what’s worrying you”

>She starts groping her way through explaining what it feels like to be a monster. She wanders off on a tangent, then another. Eventually she finds her way to the subject of how wonderful her transformation felt.

>Her voice grows a bit husky, her tone a bit erotic

>She talks about how many times she came. She talks about how her body can now do things to a man that a human’s simply can’t. She talks about how the thought of drinking semen makes her mouth water.

>She talks about how she now realizes that she’s always wanted you

>You try not to get aroused

>You become very, very aroused, your long neglected libido leaping on the opportunity to reassert itself

>The door creaks as she suddenly presses up against it. You hear her take a deep breath through her nose.

>”You’re getting turned on. I can smell it. Why don’t you let me take care of that for you?”

>You fight the urge to open the door and let her ravage you

>A pathetic whine creeps into her voice

>”Please Anon. I’ve been waiting so long, I can’t bear it any longer. You’re the only one I want Anon.”

>You’ve never been able to resist her when she pleads like that.

>You stand up

 

>You unbar the door with trembling hands

>You open it and behold your sister for the first time in god only knows how long

>You’re relieved to see that she looks almost exactly as you remember. Her blouse seems to cling to her a bit tighter, and her skirt seems a bit shorter, but she still has that same nurturing smile on her face, though it is now tainted with a crimson flush of sexual need.

>Your eyes are drawn to her wrists as she reaches up to cup your cheek. They’re fringed by an array of delicate gray feathers. As she draws her face closer to yours you get a glance over her shoulder and see a tail covered in the same plumage poking out between her skirt and blouse

>She kisses you, the ferocity with which her tongue invades your mouth a sharp contrast to the gentle way she’s caressing you as she presses her body to yours. You feel an odd tickle on your face as her hair brushes over your skin, and realize that it’s taken on the same aspect as the feathers on her arms and tail.

>Her hand slides over your stomach down to your groin, kneading at your erection through your pants

>After so long without release, the muffled sensations on your manhood are more than enough to drive you wild. You cock twitches, straining against the cloth keeping it contained, soaking it with pre.

>Her fingers chance upon the growing wet spot at the tip of your dick and her caresses abruptly stop.

>She pulls her mouth off yours and drops to her knees, burying her face in your crotch and sniffing at you as she flicks her tongue over the sticky precum staining your trousers

>The sight of her wet, pink tongue thrashing about your bulge, trailing strings of glistening drool as it dances over your lap leaves you light headed with arousal, and you begin fumbling with your fastener, but she restrains your hands, entwining her fingers with  yours.

>”Let me take care of that for you, Master”

>Her odd new way of addressing you is the furthest thing from your mind as she takes the fastener in her teeth and slowly undoes it using only her mouth, her hands still gripping yours.

>As soon as your cock springs free she engulfs it and begins sucking greedily, pulling you as far into her mouth as she can.

>She releases one of your hands and reaches over to stroke and cradle your balls. The surprise of the sensation makes you flinch forward. Her eyes widen in shock at your abrupt intrusion, but she makes a pleased sound around your cock, the pleasurable vibrations of her voice driving you to thrust forward yet again.

>This time she’s ready for you, and on the back stroke she slides her head back until only your crown is still in her mouth. She releases your other hand and begins stroking your shaft as she fondles your sack with renewed fervor. Her tongue lashes unmercifully at the underside of your glans

>She’s wholly unconcerned with making the moment last, her attention focused only on making you experience as much pleasure as possible.

>She hollows her cheeks and tightens her grip. Her eyes look adoringly into yours. She moans again, her voice tickling you down to your base

>You whimper as your balls clench and you deposit your formidable reserves of semen into her eager mouth.

>She sucks, but doesn’t swallow, not releasing you until she has your entire load in her mouth

>She continues to look into your eyes as she leans back. She keeps her lips apart and uses her tongue to roll your sperm around in her mouth, letting you watch her chew your spunk before she finally swallows it.

 

>As the last of your cream slides down her throat, her hands stray to the buttons of her blouse.

>She stands up and hurriedly begins disrobing

>Her blouse falls to the floor, revealing that her upper arms too are covered in ash-gray feathers

>Her skirt follows, and you notice for the first time that her legs are covered in fine yellow scales, and what you had taken for shoes are actually reshaped bird's talons. She's become some novel form of harpy

>The sexual haze clouding your mind clears enough for you to wonder exactly what she is, but she’s still in the midst of a mating frenzy and doesn’t give you the chance to ask

>She pulls you into her downy embrace, easing you down to the floor and straddling you. Her flushed sex dribbles the stringy proof of her incestuous affection onto you, her feminine scent diverting blood back to your groin

>She rubs herself in anticipation, the bawdy display bringing you the rest of the way to a full erection.

>Seeing that you’re ready to continue, she spreads her drooling entrance wide and lines herself up with you, but the clarity that came with your release compels you to try and stop her

>She frowns as you tell her that she’s your sister and shouldn’t be doing such things. Then a wicked glint appears in her eye

>”So, to be clear, you don’t want me to put your cock in my hot, dripping pussy, right?”

>You blush, still not used to hearing her talk like that, and concur

>She smiles smugly at you

>”As you wish, Master”

>She pushes her hips forward and down before you can say anything further, your slick cockhead forces open her taut anus and plunges deep into her accommodating behind.

>Your gasp of shock is drowned out by a wanton cry of pleasure from her, and without hesitation she begins riding you with reckless abandon

>The muscular ring of her rear entrance grips you so tightly that you threaten to turn her inside out with each thrust, but the way her pussy has started to openly gush suggests that the vicious assault on her innards only makes your sister giddy with pleasure.

>She’s hot as an oven inside, and her walls are throbbing madly in time with her rapid heartbeat

>As your sister gets used to the unnatural penetration she’s wrought upon herself, she starts adding new twists to her fucking. She relaxes her pucker as she slides down, then clenches tightly as she rises up, eager to envelope as much of you as possible in her animal warmth. She puts her arms up behind her head as her pleasure-glazed eyes meet yours and pushes her chest out.

>You obey her unspoken command, lurching up to wrap your lips around one her pert nipples.

>She hugs you to her chest and whispers syrupy sweet encouragements as you suck hungrily at her bosom

>You shift your attentions to her other breast. As you do so she reaches down to guide your hand to her flowing snatch. You clumsily brush your thumb over the swollen bud of her clit, unsure of what to do, but her words of encouragement are promptly reduced to frantic murmurs of delight, and you know you’re paying back her affections in full

>Her movements grow sluggish as she tires herself out. The thought of her being unable to cum after such heated copulation is appalling, and you press harder at her clitoris, the orgasm of the woman on top of you suddenly becoming the most important thing in the world to you.

>You slip two fingers into her womanhood, hook them gently, and start stimulating her as best as you know how. The excessive lubrication makes it easy work, and it doesn’t take long before she tenses up as her climax overtakes her

>She hugs your head to her chest, almost smothering you in her sweat-slicked breasts.

>Her anus seizes up as tight as it possibly can as she slumps down onto you in the throes of her orgasm. The intense pressure overwhelms your self-control and you flood her guts with another enormous wash of pearly cream.

>She screams at the sensation of your hot seed filling her rump; you wriggle out of her grip and silence her with a kiss.

>You lie back on the floor, gently pulling your sister with you. You hold her close, tongues entwined, until her acme ends.

 

>Your sister rolls off to the side after she catches her breath; you roll with her to make the task easier.

>For some reason you expect her to stick around and cuddle, but instead she merely plants an appreciative kiss on your cheek and walks off to the far side of the cabin.

>You’re curious as to what she’s doing as you hear scraping and clanking from her direction, but you’re so spent that you decide to give yourself a few more moments rest, which ends up turning into a quick nap, which gives way to a very long nap

>It’s late in the afternoon when you’re awoken by gentle nudging and your sister’s soft voice telling you that it’s time to get up.

>You straighten up and rub the sleep from your eyes. She watches you with a nurturing smile on her face.

>You stare at her expectantly, though unsure of what you’re actually expecting. Sudden death? A painful, brainwashing transformation?

>She continues to watch you, her hand resting on her cheek, the way she used to when you showed off your latest woodsman’s trick to her.

>Neither of those things seem terribly likely anymore

>”So, what now?”

>Her smile widens

>”You continue to ply your trade, with me at your side to take care of you. That’s the long term plan”

>She stoops and hold her hand out to you

>”The short term plan is to get you into a hot bath. I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but you really stink”

>You blush slightly as she helps you from the floor. Your blush grows, as does the sense of crushing guilt, as she guides you out of your freshly cleaned cabin and out back, where a copper tub of hot water is waiting for you.

>You find yourself compelled to recount your sins as you settle into the tub.

>You just fucked your own sister in the ass, after god knows how long with bathing, then took a nap while she cleaned the place up and ran you a bath.

>You’re the worst kind of person.

>Your guilt trip is interrupted by your sister sloshing into the bash behind you and starting to scrub you with an herby-smelling bar of soap.

>You try to tell her that you can bathe yourself, but she insists on taking care of her “master”

>It occurs to you now to ask her why she’s addressing that way

>She looks a bit embarrassed when you broach the subject

>”It just-it feels right. I can’t explain it. Does it bother you?”

>It does, but you can’t possibly tell her that. The least you can do for her at this point is let her call you whatever she wants.

>You quiet down and let her wash you. She scrubs and kneads at you the same way she did when you were little, massaging you with the suds that form in the soap's wake. You had a copper bathtub back then too. It's almost like being home again.

>Except for the fact that you just had sex with your sister

>Your guilt and embarrassment finally come to a head, and you ask your sister what she thinks about the taboo new relationship you have with her.

>She puts the soap down and draws you into a hug, her damp feathers tacky against your skin.

>"Do you feel weird, knowing that you just blew your wad in your big sister?"

>You can hear the perverse smile in her voice as she teases you and sink lower in the tub. Her voice loses it's taunting edge.

>"That's okay. I felt that way for a while too. After I changed I was humiliated by the feelings I started to have for you."

>She reaches over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze

>"The others, the ones who were born this way I mean, told me it was alright. That it was natural for me to feel this way. It happens all the time, and they aren't bothered by it at all. No one will hold it against us."

>A note of worry creeps into her speech

>"Are you okay with being together like this? I know I've been kind of...pushy. I promise I won't be upset if-"

>You stop her by twisting around to hug her back. You tell her that nothing would make you happier than having her close by.

>She leans in to kiss you, her lips curling into a smile against yours.

 

>Once she’s finished washing you and toweling you off (spending an inordinate amount of time on your more sensitive areas), your sister declares that she’s going to have to go into town to fetch her things, and asks you to accompany her.

>You’re first instinct is to say no, to stay here in the woods where it’s safe, but your recent experiences override it. She’s been nothing but kind to you so far, despite being a monstergirl, why should the people in town behave any differently?

>Once you’re both dressed, you take her hand and follow her down the path into town.

>You have your first face to face meeting with a monstergirl other than your sister as you draw close to the outskirts of the transformed human city. An arachne descends from a high tree branch on a strand of silk. It takes a conscious effort on your part to fight down the instinctive revulsion to large arachnids and remain cordial as she throws you and your sister a casual greeting.

>You have many similar encounters as you get further into the city. Everyone seems friendlier somehow, more upbeat.

>Your apprehensions drain away as you pass through a crowded market square unaccosted.

>You arrive at the inn where your sister once worked. She tells you to wait in the foyer while she packs.

>You’re struggling to find something to occupy yourself while you wait when you spot a familiar face slithering toward you

>The lamia whose bold pursuit of her husband led to all this approaches you, a smaller lamia with lighter scales close behind her

>”Hi”

>You have a hard time looking her in the eye, your gruff dismissal of her greeting still remarkably fresh in your mind

>”Hello”

>”Feeling more comfortable with us?”

>”…Yes”

>She smiles

>”Good to hear. You had us all worried for a while”

>She extends her hand

>”Feel like telling me your name this time?”

>You shake her hand and introduce yourself

>”Nice to meet you Anon. I’m Minoa. This is my daughter Adalinda. She has something she’d like to say”

>The smaller lamia peaks out from behind her mother and addresses you in a voice so small you have to strain to hear it

>”I’m sssorry if I ssscared you when we were trying to make you come out. I didn’t mean to. I-I’m glad thingsss went well for you. I think you and your sssister make a nice couple”

>Your mind trips over itself as it takes that sentence in. THIS was what had you so worked up? This little hatchling and her friends?

>You start giggling. It proves contagious; Minoa and Adalinda quickly join you, despite it being clear that neither one knows what’s so funny.

>The serpents depart before they can laugh themselves hoarse.

>Your sister returns, her modest collection of luggage dragging behind her. She gives you a quizzical look, wondering why your face is so red. You smile reassuringly at her as you relieve her of the heaviest parcel.

>You wrap your free arm around your sister and start the walk back home, feeling quite confident that everything is going to work out just fine.