(Re)Born on the Bayou

A gator girl and a story for you on a Sunday here. She should have been more respectful, I reckon!

“The girl hadn’t believed the old woman when she said to stay away from the cabin on the water, particularly when it was flooded. ‘Dem gators ‘ll git ya’ she’d said, with a toothless grin and an involuntary whistle at the ‘s’. Being from the city, the girl didn’t put much stock in all the local folklore. She knew her grandmothers cabin still contained a few old knickknacks on its rotting shelves, but she also knew somewhere in the moldy boards was a deed to the property. It had lain derelict for years as simply an abandoned house; the locals were in no hurry t claim the many acres of swamp surrounding the cabin, and perfectly content to leave the area unchanged. The girl, however, knew the value of the land. Those stupid bumpkins didn’t have any clue the natural gas deposits they were sitting on, he rich they could be if they would just let the companies come in and do a bit of drilling. They were too concerned with preserving their stinking swamp, full of flies, mosquitos, snakes, and of course, ‘dem gators’. The girl waded through the muck out to the cabin, feeling as if she’d never get clean after this, but after she sold the gas rights she’d never have to come back. She could go back to New Orleans and simply collect her checks. Just had to push a little further, and get this done.

She searched the cabin, horrified to encounter a black widow among the molding garbage, and feeling physically attacked by the stench of the methane-scented swamp water that sat in fetid pools in the cabin. The damn structure was sinking into the swamp, and still they wanted to keep this place!? Despite herself the girl snickered a bit and kept digging. Finally, she found the lockbox that was supposed to have the deed in it. Her redneck brother, more a local than half the people she encountered here, had told her what she was looking for. She pulled it from beneath the rotting boards and quickly worked the lock.

When she opened the box, hoping to find the deed intact and not falling to the same fate as the cabin around her, she saw…nothing. Just a bunch of junk! No paper, no deed, nothing of value, just a few rolled up dollars, a random set of keys to something else, and little wooden carving of a fucking alligator. The girl chucked the box across the room, hearing it scatter its meager contents out the door and onto the sinking porch. ‘Fuck,’ she thought, ‘all this disgusting effort for nothing.’ She stood, wiping her grimy hands in grimier legs, and trudged toward the door.

She walked onto the porch and kicked the small lockbox into the swamp waters. It made a satisfying splash before being lost to the brown water. She turned to leave when she stepped on something, turning her ankle and newrly itching headlong into the disgusting water herself. She hit the porch hard, but managed to save herelrf taking a dip. She turned, looking for what she had tripped over, and saw the damned alligator carving. ‘Fucking locals…’ she muttered and grabbed the carving, meaning to whip it as far out into the swamp as possible.

As soon as her hand touched it, however, she felt a jolt of energy that not only cursed through her, but seemed to nearly come from her. She recoiled, dropping the small carving back to the boards with a dull thud. She scooted back away from it, feeling quivery inside and suddenly uneasy. As she looked at the small wooden object she could see it was nothing more than it appeared, simply a small wooden carving. But what the fuck has just happened? She wonder, feeling her breath and her pulse quicken in concert with one another.

Suddenly, she felt a pressure at her waistband, as if someone was pulling a drawstring tight around her hips. Quickly, it became tight enough to be uncomfortable, and the girl looked down, squirming a bit to pull at the waistband of her shorts. She felt a pressure behind her, as if someone was pushing on her tailbone, pushing her forward into the now biting waistband. She rocked forward on her knees and glanced behind her to see, with utter shock, a growing tail pressing slowly out of her backside, filling the available space in her shorts and threatening to tear through the fabric any moment.

The girls head reeled, and for a moment she felt she was going to pass out. The tail continued to grow outward, unabated, and she was struck by the thickness of it. She could feel it pressing toward, stretching her flesh and pulling her shorts tighter and tighter. With a pop, the waistband of her jeans suddenly ripped, violently, and as they did the girl was horrified to see a thick, fleshy tail flop out of the fabric behind her, landing with a thump on the boards. Again, she felt she was about to pass out.

The tail had a rough texture to it, and as she entirely reached back to run her hand along it, she found it was covered in leathery scales, hardening and darkening beneath her fingers. She found, too, that she could feel the sensation of touch in the tail, could feel that it was attached to her, part of her. She mentally recoiled at the thought, but the hot sun made the sensation of running her hand along the hardening tail pleasant, and she continued. Behind her, the tail continued to grow and thicken, and it was obvious to the girl it was an alligator’s tail, a thought that occurred to her with not attached fear. She found herself more intrigued than scared, and soothed by the leathery nubs and ridges that adorned her new appendage. She felt its weight, the heft of it, as well as the strength. When it moved she realized that she had moved it, but that realization seemed detached from her conscious mind. The movement sent ripples of sensation up through the tail and into the muscles at her lower back. She felt them twitch and strain against the tail’s weight, and felt the powerful flex back down the length of the tail. The movement rippled through her body, and she felt it in places she had not expected. As the tail moved slowly behind her she felt it in her ass and thighs, her muscles adjusting to help with the weight. She was surprised to find herself becoming aroused, the movement of her tail stretching and moving the skin and musculature around her pussy. The slow movement back and forth meant muscle contraction, gentle stretching and compressing of skin and the movement of hips and ass. She felt herself moisten, rolling her hips gently forward to take the weight of the tail onto her back, feeling the delicious pull underneath that gently stretched her pussy. She clenched and felt her pussy tighten along with the heavy muscles in the thick tail. The heat of arousal coursed through her body, and she felt a new sensation.

Along the skin of her thighs she saw the same leathery, knobby alligator skin spreading. Its movement brought warmth, the hard flesh seeming to soak up the sun’s heat as it beat down on her, and she realized there was more to come. She took a deep breath and realized that her shirt had become tight, constricting her chest and feeling as if she were wrapped in something. She looked down to find her meager breasts making an effort to fill her shirt and continuing to swell outward as she watched.

Their progress was slow, but the girl watched with delicious anticipation as they grew, relishing the feeling of the taught fabric sliding over the smooth flesh as the first drops of moisture slid from her pussy and dampened the boards beneath her. She felt her hips beginning to squirm involuntarily as her arousal increased. Her breasts continued to swell outward, the weight of their burgeoning flesh beginning to tug pleasantly at the girls chest, while the rough, leathery skin spread further over her body, covering her stomach and spreading over her back and shoulders.

The woman moaned at the overwhelming sensations assaulting her, and slid her hands along her taught stomach, feeling the hard skin beneath them and the lean muscles quivering as both the changes and the woman’s arousal built. One hand slid upward along the line of her ribs to grasp a growing breast, feeling the weight of the yielding flesh in her hand, her nipples threatening to pierce the thin fabric as her breasts continued to grow, filling and overflowing her hand as she watched. Her other hand snaked its way downward, sliding underneath the torn waistband of her jean shorts, and slowing to gently probe the upper reaches of her dripping pussy. Her fingertips danced lightly around the sensitive lips, gently pulling here, rubbing there, and pausing to lightly stroke as she explored. As her fingers gently parted her lips and tasted her moisture for the first time, she felt her hand dive deeper, seemingly of its own accord. Her fingers plunged into her pussy, sliding easily into the wet and inviting flesh. As she drive her hand upside herself she cried out, feeling her arms tighten across her body, her elbow pressing her swollen breasts together, their soft flesh sliding together in her cleavage. The woman felt her body tense and she knew she was suddenly on the verge of orgasm, standing on the precipice and utterly unable to turn back. She was vaguely aware of the ongoing transformation, of her face elongating and her teeth sharpening, the powerful muscles in her jaw tightening, her feet shifting and becoming clawed and short…all of this drowned out by the exquisite pressure in her body, the quivering and growing flesh surging outward all around her. She came.

When her head cleared and she began to regain her thoughts she looked around her at the beautiful swamp, its warm and inviting water, the shining sun and the droning insects. She breathed in deeply, realizing the folly of trying to interfere with this place. The swamp was eternal, aged and wise in its own way, and would outlast the momentary whims of mankind. Her kind, now, had outlived millennia of evolution, eons of change, and yet they were still here. Waiting in the dark water. She knew she was home, and with a grin, she leaned forward and slid into the murky water, a solitary ripple the only evidence of her passing. A cicada droned loudly as a dragonfly darted delicately above the water.”