Reactionary slugfest (Monthly tale - 35)

(Women into slugs)

The suburban hellscape.

A labyrinthine wasteland of rows and rows of dozens of samy little houses pretending to be homes so that the wealthy can pretend they own a piece of dirt.

Vain projections of statues ruining the horizon in all directions.

It can take forty minutes or more to escape it, that’s if you are lucky and have a car, and if you don’t suffer the disgrace of having to live there.

In that made-up American dream five women had more control than they should have.

The Good Wives Conservative Literature club is what they called themselves, a judgemental sneering fellowship which for some reason decided what was correct for school plays, what decorations were acceptable during festivities and which politicians the neighborhood should support.

Mila Markovich, the youngest of the wives at 38, a blonde bimboish looking woman with too much surgery and too many makeovers. She had appeared in a corn-dog commercial, had divorced and married rich.  A woman of few words and not many thoughts, mother of one young kid.

Rudy Stephens, 41, pale skinned, tall, thin, with short dark hair, a wine aficionado. Daughter of a novelist and a self-proclaimed author after having self-published a few books not even her husband had read. Two kids under her wing, twins close in age to Mila’s kid.

Georgia Williams was 41 too, a black woman from the southern USA, she wore her shoulder length hair in dreadlocks. She dedicated her life to her yoga and fitness blog and had almost three hundred followers. She considered herself economically liberal and had three children, a young girl and two teenage boys.

Laurel McSweeney, was a curly haired redhead, the oldest and widest of the group, at 49 years and by several pounds. Her dad owned land and farms on which she had passed her tomboyish adolescence. In college she was part of the womens wrestling league. Never shy to boast about her strength, the size of her breasts or how much more prolific of a mother she was than the others, with four sons and one daughter who was on her way to her twenties.

Padmaj Donnell, the 44 year old leader of the wives, an Indian immigrant from New Delhi, with brownish skin, long silky raven hair. She saw herself as a working woman despite having only worked in her grandfather’s company before putting her interests in politics. She hadn’t had much success at either thing. She always wore a tiny pin with the American flag on her jacket lapels and only had one daughter that was also now a young woman.

Much to Padmaj’s distress, her daughter shared little if any of her views.

Something that quite often put them both at odds.

“Anjali!” The mother yelled early that morning when she saw her daughter in the kitchen. “Drop that! Don’t you dare!”

Anjali did dare, she swallowed the cookie she had been eating and shrugged.

“I just took one, don’t make a scene.”

Padmaj grabbed the plate before Anjali could take any more cookies.

“I’ve told you a thousand times that these sweets are only for my reunions.”

The girl rolled her eyes, leaving the kitchen.

“Your TERF meeting wouldn’t be ruined by a few missing cookies, Padmaj. They are ruined because of the hateful shit you bunch gloat about.”

“Don’t you call us that slur!” the mom shouted. “And stop saying my name, I’m mom or mother to you!”

“Sure, mommy.“

Padmaj tracked her daughter with a severe stare, still protecting the plate of cookies as if it was a precious baby.

“Where are you going?” she inquired.

Anjali was putting her jacket on.

“Out with Nina and Jay, we’re going to hang out in the tree.”

“I didn’t give you permission to go and drug yourself!”

“I’m 19, It was pot and it was only once.” she stared back at her mother. “Would you prefer me to stay and chat with your friends? I would love to add some counter-arguments to your high level discussions, mommy”

The impish smirk across her daughter’s lips made Padmaj purse hers, she frowned, considering her options.

“No, it’s fine, you can go with your friends...” she finally conceded. “But only because I say so... and you’d better be back before it gets dark!”

Anjali chuckled.

“Sure, mommy!“ she repeated. “Have fun at your TERF cornucopia!”

The young woman left before the mature woman could respond.

Alone in her kitchen Padmaj shook her head.

“That damned girl, she’s going to be the death of me...” she sighed. “How am I gonna set her straight?”

She wondered about that as she moved into the living room to put the plate of cookies down on the coffee table in the middle of the room, along with the rest of the pastries, drinks and the flower arrangement in the center.

She moved it a few inches to position it better.

“Everything always has to be perfect...” she thought. “Or I’m not human at all.”

...

The old tree house was hidden deep in the park, the only green space in the whole suburban area. When Anjali arrived Nina McSweeney and Jay Williams were already there.

Jay was resting his head in Nina’s lap whilst Nina tied up his hair into a pigtail.

“Did the cornucopia begin?” Nina asked as soon as she saw Anjali’s head appear through the treehouse’s hatch.

“It’s about to begin.“ Anjali informed them, pulling herself up and sitting on the wooden floor in front of her friends. “I was caught trying to grab cookies, so no food today.”

“Shit!” cursed Nina.

“Auch!” Jay protested when Nina pulled his hair after learning about the lack of snacks. “Careful!”

“Sorry...!” the redheaded girl apologized whilst Anjali chuckled. “Sigh, would it really be so hard for your mom to spare some food? They don’t even eat at those stupid reunions, they mostly drink.”

“They don’t even read the books.” yawned Jay, sitting up. “They just get together to puke their slimy poison and get drunk.”

Anjali nodded, crossing her arms over her legs.

“That’s why it’s not a reunion, but a cornucopia. Slugs don’t know how to read but only drink... I’m pretty sure of that...”

Some laughter.

“You know...” Nina wondered in a dreamy voice. “It would be cool if those five really turned into slugs.”

Anjali didn’t disagree at all.

“They would certainly be way less annoying and noisy if they finally conceded and became their true meaty mollusc selves.”

Nina nodded.

“Meaty like their old cunts! At the very least that way they would understand a bit more about gender!”

“That’s right!” agreed Anjali. “Molluscs are hermaphrodites or something, aren’t they?”

Jay intervened, stopping his two girlfriends from discussing it further.

“Hey, cut it out, I would love for my mom to understand what it means to not conform to a gender without looking at me like a weirdo, but I would rather she did it with her eyes inside their  sockets and not as some crawling bug!” he said. “Those kinds of changes aren’t a joke, you know, they can be rather permanent!”

Both Nina and Anjali frowned, exchanged glances and rolled their eyes together.

“What are you talking about?” sighed Anjali. “People don’t turn into slugs, no matter how slug-like they are as people.”

Nina giggled and pointed at Jay.

“Did you read another dumb internet conspiracy thing?”

Jay blushed.

“No...! I mean, Yes, I read it on the internet, but...” he shook his head. “Look, it’s not like a punishment, nor karma, nor reincarnation, those changes are something of the flesh, your inside claiming your outside... Lots of people know, but nobody talks about it, not really, all religions get it wrong... It’s like rules, rules written in reality itself, natural rules that get confused with gods and stuff... If our mom’s act like slugs and we think of them like slugs and they keep being sluggish... Well... they may... actually become it...”

The guy with a single pigtail’s passionate but mostly incoherent explanation didn’t have much effect on his friends.

“That’s such a pile of dumb nonsense!” Nina laughed. “And I’m pretty sure it’s racist?”

“It’s not...!” an even redder than before Jay tried to look to Anjali for help.

Anjali crossed her arms, leaned against the wall and smirked.

“If that stupid crap were true, which it isn’t, then it would mean that our moms and their friends ARE slugs, wouldn’t it? So maybe if they finally slime out of humanity, accept their place in nature and stop being an annoyance to everybody it would be the best for them. Am I wrong?”

Her inquiry left Jay defenseless.

“Well... That’s not technically incorrect... but it would still suck...”

“Your mom loves yoga, Jay, I’m sure she would enjoy not having a spine or limbs!”

Anjali’s joke made Jay smirk slightly.

Nina put a finger on her lips.

“If our mothers are slugs that means the three of us are a bunch of sons of slugs?”

Everybody in the tree house laughed.

...

That week’s literature club reunion began as it usually did, by forgetting the month’s book and starting to complain about everybody who wasn’t present in the room and who lived within a five kilometer radius. It was after the second bottle of wine (Rudy always brought a couple) when the ladies booze spiced minds felt the first wave.

Out of nowhere a crawling sensation crossed their skins and interrupted Mila’s vile rant about the school teacher, a rant to which Rudy nodded continuously in agreement as if everything the blonde was saying wasn’t just a bunch of lies about a perfectly decent woman.

It made all five of them shut up for a moment and even press their legs together as it came and went.

It was their first and last warning that they all ignored.

“Freezing hell!” groaned Laurel, rubbing her arms. “Could you put the heat on? Or are you trying to kill us in this refrigerator?”

“Calm down, it’s not even that cold!” Clearly annoyed by the chilly interruption and the criticism of her warm house, Padmaj turned on the heating whilst trying to ignore the stickiness in her panties. “Now can you stop whining, you menopausal slobs!” she said when she returned to her seat after pulling down the hem of her dress. “Explain that insanity about that poor tomboy.”

Padmaj spoke as if she wasn’t already fully aware of all the details, details she was planning to use to stoke her outrage.

Rudy raised her finger, finishing her glass of wine before speaking.

“As Mila was saying,” she began to explain, continuing the tale from the point when the chill had stopped them. “That Gen Z hippie bitch teacher and the girl’s woke-crazed mom had convinced the principal to let the girl compete with the boys at the sports festival because they say she’s trans.”

“How old is the girl?“ Georgia asked.

“11!” Rudy knew precisely what reaction her answer would provoke.

The women shook their heads with profound disapproval and disgust.

“They’re nuts!” Laurel proclaimed. “An 11 year old! She’s not trans, just a confused child!”

“Absolutely! That’s what I told them, didn’t I Mila?” Mila nodded, agreeing with Rudy. “They looked at me as if I was the crazy one! You can’t know those things at 11! You don’t even know your favorite colour at that age! It’s as if they had said the girl is gay! Absurd! She should be worrying about receiving her invite to Hogwarts, not whether she wears pants or skirts!”

There wasn’t any disagreement or dissent from anyone, but the nipples on the five pairs of breasts grew hard inside their bras, so hard that they could be spotted beneath the blouses and shirts.

Laurel pulled at the neck of her blouse to cool her chest.

“If I was a kid these days they would say I was trans as well! Can you imagine the ridicule? Women aren’t made to compete against men, they can’t win!”

Georgia put a finger on her lips and asked: “Didn’t you meet your husband by winning a wrestling match against him?”

The redhead woman slowed down slightly, putting a finger in her lips.

“Well... That’s different, I’m too much of a woman... I mean, a normal woman...”

Padmaj finally intervened.

“It’s totally different and beside the point, the point being that we have to step up to stop them from doing such a stupid thing, because the main concern here is that the poor girl may get hurt.”

Once again Georgia raised what would have been an argument ending question in any other group.

“Does that girl already compete with other kids?”

To combat the growing sweatiness, Rudy was filling her glass with fresh wine..

“I think so?” Rudy wondered. “She took part in a tournament or something and ended up in third place...”

Before it could go any further Padmaj stepped in again.

“That’s beside the point too!” she exclaimed. “That she hasn’t been hurt yet doesn’t mean she won’t get hurt in the future. This is not like wearing masks, it’s like seat belts, a matter of being proactive!”

Her four companions nodded in agreement, their armpits by now feeling very wet.

“We have to do what’s best for the... offspring...” Laurel babbled - she was the one sweating the most. “That’s our... god given duty as... progenitors...”

Padmaj nodded stiffly, her chest filling with self-righteous pride.

“Exactly, mate!” she smirked at the redhead. “That’s our duty! Women and men aren’t the same...! Biological woman and biological men, not that gender nonsense, distorting words beyond... shapes...” she cleared her throat. “It’s how it works in nature, in all of nature, there’s female and male and nothing else... Roosters don’t lay eggs, hens are hens...”

Despite the panting caused by the growing heat, Georgia managed to frown and pose one last question.

“What about molluscs...?” she said.

Rudy chuckled and looked at her with confused amusement.

“What about them?”

Georgia blushed.

“They are hermaphrodites... I think... Jay told me, they aren’t either male or female... kinda both...?”

Padmaj rolled her eyes, in a similar way to how her daughter did when the two of them talked.

“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked.

Georgia shrugged.

“Just... That not all animals are male or female...”

“Most of them! Jesus Christ, we aren’t... freaking molluscs...”

“We’re not chickens either..”.

Their visions had grown blurry, all five of them seemed to be melting into their seats.

Padmaj twitched her lips, annoyed.

“Of course we aren’t...!” she shouted with only half her normal strength. “We are, we are wsss... Slu...” her voice was cut short by an intense bout of coughing, she wiped the thick sticky sweat from her forehead, looked around, blinking. “You know... What we are...” silence, she glanced at the blonde. “Mila, tell them... Mila...”

All attention was focused on Mila, it took a moment for the blonde to notice she had become the center of attention. After another moment of hot hesitation Mila opened her moist lips to speak.

But she didn’t utter a word.

Instead, in an instant of bursting surprise, her whole face exploded forward, to her and everybody else  in the living room surprise. A loud, disgustingly squishing sound that stretched her neck too far away from her shoulders.

Mila’s whole face deformed in the process, features were washed away, blonde hair detached from her scalp and her eyes were pulled out of their sockets, ending up on the end of two long appendages. Mila tried to scream during every second, but her voice turned into a gurgling bubbly mess whilst a couple of tendrils sprouted from the sides of her mouth.

The blonde’s latest luxurious makeover was totally ruined by the slime, panic overtook the room, cries and screams.

Complete confusion.

Especially for poor unfortunate Mila, whose head had suddenly turned into a slugs.

Her hands touch the deformed apex of her body as her head swung around in terror. A mutation that was bizarre to the eyes, a rich MILF’s body with the long head of a slug from the neck up.

That slug atop her shoulders still had pinkish human skin, even if considerably more slimy, and at the end of the longest pair of appendages Mila’s still human blue eyes looked at her screaming friends, begging and gurgling for help.

As if there was anything that could save them.

“FUCK! FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! FUUUUUUUUUCK!” Georgia yelled, climbing onto her seat, putting all the distance she could between herself and the slug headed woman.

Rudy, who had turned paler than a ghost, was leaning back as much as she could whilst fiercely gripping both arms of the chair. Her last glass of wine spilled over her skirt.

“Not happening...! Not happening...! Not happening...!” she muttered, shaking her head without opening her eyes.

Laurel was just pointing at the struggling mutant.

“Slug! SLUG!” she shouted. “Mila has a slug head! Why does she have a slug head?!”

Padmaj spread her legs, her eyes so wide it hurt, she glanced at the rest of the room, including Mila’s wavering eyes. Her lungs burned, she clenched her pussy, she clenched her anus, she knew, with certainty, that she was going to be the next one whose true nature was going to burst out.

“B-Because WE are slugs!” she howled, she clenched her teeth, it didn’t help at all. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

It wasn’t her head, but her rear that burst out.

A loud ripping sound followed by her butt being pulled from under the skirt of her dress. Long, thick, slimy and totally mutated. A lumpy chunk of meat that hung out between her legs. She could feel it with her thighs, the warm moisture, she could feel the parquet floor with the tip of that absurdly inhuman appendage.

Padmaj groaned and sobbed, rising up, looking down at the long thick... not a tail but slug’s rear end that her ass had turned into.

She felt like puking, she felt the saliva leaking out of her mouth.

That big chunk of meat rested there, having transformed the shape of not just her butt, but of her whole crotch. Her vagina and pubes were also there in the centre of the stretched skin.

Her pussy opening and closing as if it were gasping to breath.

Horny and wet.

Padmaj looked up and saw where her panties had ended up.

Snapped by the sudden explosion of flesh, her underwear had been sent flying to the other side of the living room, landing centrally in the face of the woman sitting directly opposite her.

Rudy’s yelling was muffled by the musky soaked cloth, she was waving her arms and kicking with her legs. One of the kicks made her lose a heel and sent the coffee table crashing to the floor, a glass broke, the drink and food quickly ruining the wood.

But it seemed like just a minor debacle in comparison to the chaos destroying their bodies.

More by luck than judgement Rudy finally managed to grab the damp piece of cloth and remove it from her face, but as she pulled the broken panties away half of her face changed.

Her features deformed and simplified and one of her eyes slid out of its socket, acquiring the extendable slug appendage that was normal for the kindred species that she and her companions seemed destined to be.

She had half the face of a terrified woman, the other half of a terrified mollusc.

“Hlow couldg thisssssssssh bleeeeeee happpening to usssssssssssh!” she gurgled as the struggle between the human and slug sides in her head was won by the slug side. “Whaaaaaay fluuuuuuuucking sluuuuuuuuuuuugsh!”

Georgia, still on top of her chair, shouted what they all already knew in their dizzying minds.

“It’s what we have always beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!”

As the shout came out her midriff elongated, stretching and twisting.

The easiest and most horrific bend the yoga enthusiast had ever achieved and it’s only cost was her having her bones liquefied from the inside. She managed to remain in that impossible posture, with the top of her body upside down for a few agonizing seconds before attempting to lift herself up.

The attempt made Georgia’s whole shape collapse.

Her lower body just detached from the upper as her rear end deformed, her legs left inside the pants, melting into a puddle of slime as the rest of the woman splashed onto the floor.

Kissing the floor with her cunt, from that sorry state the mollusc woman tried to lift herself up with her arms, only to cause those two limbs to detach and splash in a similar way to her legs.

In that pitiful state Georgia kept yelling at the top of her lungs as her neck and head burst, her hair fell away and she gained her own pair of slug eyes.

Laurel had had enough.

“No! Not me!” The farm mom stood up from her seat, standing with a pride that didn’t match the surrounding disaster. “You might, but I’m not... a... slug!” despite all the self-righteous integrity she tried to force into her claim, shouting above all the slimy fleshy cacophony of transformation going on around, her voice ended flinching with that last word. “Aaaah... Ahhhh...” Laurel’s body trembled like jello, she looked at Padmaj and called her by name. “Padmaj...!”

The woman managed to gasp in her last instant of being fully that.

Laurel’s bursting was the least graceful of the five. Collapsing as if her flesh was a cake being dropped from a seventh story window she splashed inside her clothes, arms and legs becoming thick liquid in place.

Her torso hit the floor hard, her blouse burst open and her enormous momma breasts sprang free as she rolled in her slimy misery. She was stretched from her both ends, shouting from behind the tipped over table until the gurgling ended her voice.

“PADMAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHLLLLLLLLL!”

Mila had long since joined her brethren on the floor, her clothes left empty, stained and sticky in the chair. She could have very well just disappeared on the spot.

Padmaj looked at Rudy, or rather, the humanoid slug that was what remained of Rudy.

That creature shook itself out of the restraint of the dress, losing almost all hair and then let itself drop down.

To the floor.

Where it belonged.

Where every single one of them belonged.

Padmaj had also had way, way more than enough.

Clenching her teeth she inspected her lower body, her skirt in ruins, her tights and heels empty, all that remained of her legs and feet was that thick musky slime.

Without too much effort she shook the tip of the appendage that now formed her bottom half, the sensation disfigured her face with disgust at her own self.

She was no naga, or a mermaid either, she was...

“Slug...” she grunted in between the tears, feeling the slime in her mouth and nostrils, her hair starting to drop. “If I’m not perfect... I’m not human at all...” she coughed.

In the middle of that mutated lump of flesh her vagina still leaked, opening and closing, her maddeningly horny cunt. The woman raised herself from the chair at the cost of losing her arms, her torso tilted forward and as she moved on her way down she experienced first hand the disorienting dizziness of her eyes becoming those of a slug.

She was met by the hard floor.

Groaning and moaning she began to shake, bending her back to drag her body, crawling like what she was. Slowly she slid out of her bra and blouse, following the sensations that were caught by the tendrils sprouting from her face.

Bending her spine, dragging her weight along, the slow excruciating movement. She slide over the American flag pin and felt the meaning of the self-disgusts.

As Padmaj and the others squirmed towards the center of the room, the last remnants of the features that may have allowed them to be recognised as human, or even just mammalian, were lost.

Their hair, their pubes, their breasts...

Their flesh smoothed into the proper shape of slugs, slimy, human skinned slugs.

That was all that was left when they reached the center.

They recognized each other only by the skin tones and eyes which were all that remained of their previous selves.

Well, that along with their minds and their leaking pussies.

No words could they utter with those alien forms, only a sad gurgling as they realized that they were shrinking, gradually being reduced into the insignificant size of their new existence. There was much to ponder during those last strokes of their metamorphoses, the horror, the anger, the impotence... but in particular they were horny...

Deeply twistedly horny.

Every inch of their skins could have been vaginal for all they knew.

The brown slug, the one that was or had been Padmaj, puked out all her pretensions of principles and climbed onto the fat slug, twisted herself around her partner and began to rub her sex against the others.

There was little to no resistance from the fat blob, they both opened their eyes widely, stretching their tendrils and necks, sliming over each other which produced squishy sounds they could barely catch the vibrations from.

It during that carnal act when their sex was changed, no longer female or male... they hated it, they enjoyed it, they thought they understood, as if being molluscs was anything even close to thexperience of the people they had harmed...

At the end of their ocular appendages their pupils began to expand. Padmaj’s last humanly coherent thought was that she was glad she hadn’t made salty cookies.

Looking to her side the paler of the slugs noticed that her two other companions were doing the same, fucking each other. Scared, trying to hold onto her humanity in a last pathetic attempt, the clumsy creature tried to escape, but with the clumsiness that was a product of her new form the only result was her managing to end up tangled in sexual intercourse.

Giving and taking.

Pupils expanded, turned dull as any sense of dignity melted away with the pleasure.

A busy, hermaphroditic, hedonistic orgy as they became what could be called “it” and something that they would have previously not even considered to be an animal..

As the sex continued the last change occurred, their skins acquired new tones.

An intense red for Mila.

Boring gray for Rudy.

Bluish purple for Georgia.

Plain dark brown for Laurel.

And lastly bright yellow and black for Padmaj.

But their names were now nothing more than a distant faint echo in a back corner of their minds. So small that it would be hard to see the tangled ball of slugs and even harder to hear them fucking each other in that seemingly empty living room.

...

Anjali opened the front door of her home.

“Mommy! I’m hungry!” she shouted as she entered, followed by Jay and Nina. “Can we have something to eat?”

Her voice echoed through the empty rooms..

Jay frowned.

“No answer?”

Nina had her hands inside her pockets.

“Maybe the cornucopia has slipped out for a drink!”

They entered the living room where they were met by that perniciously thick silence. It didn’t take much effort for the three to realize that something was incredibly wrong, not just because of the overturned table, but also because of the piles of empty sticky clothes left around the five seats.

“What the...?” mumbled Nina grabbed her mom’s stained blouse, it was still warm. “Did... Did they leave naked...?”

Anjali was inspecting her mom’s jacket, with that dumb flag pin.

“I doubt it.”

“Then...?”

“Something... worse?”

The girls realized that Jay wasn’t saying anything, he was standing stiffly in the centre of the room, looking at something in the table’s shadow. Nina and Anjali approached him, but were stopped by Jay, as he waved his hands in front of their chests.

“Be careful! Don’t step on them!”

“Step on what?” growl Anjali, starting to freak out.

“LOOK!”

The girls did as he said and looked down to where Jay was pointing, their ears caught that soft fleshy rubbing sound that had been in the backs of their minds since they entered the room.

Anjali and Nina’s brain put the pieces of the horrid puzzle together... empty clothes, trails of slime on the parquet...

A tangled ball of differently colored slugs fucking each other wildly down on the floor.

“It can’t be...” muttered Anjali.

“Cornucopia...” was the only word that Nina managed to utter.

“Stop saying that!” yelled Jay.

Feeling a cold sweat on her back Anjali knelt down.

“Don’t touch the... Things...!” gasped Nina, covering her mouth.

Anjali wasn’t dissuaded, she leaned down, stretched out her hand... smelled warm musk... She picked up the yellow slug, putting the sorry creature on her finger... Her finger was bigger than it, she looked directly into the dull empty eyes on the end of the stalks on the molluscs head...

“Mom...?”