Trigger warning: there is attempted rape in this story.
*****
Maggie lay on her bed, limbs splayed out. Her sheets covered her dresser, because she violently removed them. She was drenched in sweat. Rising from her groin was her new macroclitoris. That was definitely new to her. It arched upwards and toward her chest which rapidly rose and fell in her desperate and fearful panting. It looked a bit like a penis, sure. After all, penises and clitorises both originate from the same tissue during development, but it did not look like an ordinary man's penis. Instead, the bulbous part made its way more than halfway down the shaft from the tip, where it met her inner labia which extended up the inner sides. There were no testicles. Instead, there was her usual vulva, quivering as it was. Juices trickled down over her perineum, unimpeded by any hair, since she had previously shaved with a magical razor.
"Are you okay?" There was knocking on the door. It was Beth, her apartment mate. Not half a minute earlier, Maggie had called out for help.
"No! Help!" Maggie was not only paralyzed by shock and fear- the transformation had done a bit to her brain. She absolutely needed to penetrate something, preferably a warm vagina, or maybe the skilled mouth of a woman. Maggie wasn't sure about the whole woman thing. She'd never been attracted to women. Now, the thought of a man sucking this thing seemed somehow unappealing, despite her inner desperation for release.
There were several thuds against the door. Beth had arms in place of her legs, and while much of the apartment had been modified to accommodate her, Maggie's bedroom door had been left as normal. Beth could make it, though. She just had to jump and perhaps climb to reach the doorknob. The door swung open, and there was Beth, triumphant in her simple conquest.
"Please!" Maggie gurgled. "I need to..." She rolled toward her door and started to get out of bed.
"Whoa... You've got that clit disease like Britney." Beth backed up a little. She didn't like the look in Maggie's eyes.
"I..." Maggie now sat, her rock-hard macroclit reaching beyond her bellybutton. "I need help. Please, Beth..."
Beth backed out of the room. "Oh, hell no! That shit is contagious. I'm calling Nichelle."
"But I need it! Please!" Maggie had risen to her feet, now towering over Beth.
"Uh..." Beth reached into her memories of occasionally bad television. "You can fight this!"
"No. I just need release. Could you just, you know, take it?"
Beth scrambled into the living room, looking for some sort of escape. The previous night, Beth had witnessed Maggie rather forcefully seduce a guy at a party. Previously, she had imagined her apartment mate as someone who was so inconsiderate. If she'd seen a guy acting the way that Maggie did the last night, she would have called campus police. Right now, that member made Maggie pretty capable of penetrative sexual assault, and Beth was determined to avoid victimhood.
Maggie ran for Beth, showing that she was definitely out of control. Beth was quick, though. She scrambled up her kitchen ladder onto the counter, her large exposed breasts swinging. Maggie kept coming, grabbing at her, but Beth smacked her hand with a ladle. Beth leapt onto the back of the couch, looking toward the door. No, she realized it would take too long to open the door, and Maggie was nearly around the counter anyway. Beth then saw an opportunity to get some high ground, and she climbed up her exercise ladder. That ladder gave her access to some monkeybars that she had installed on the ceiling. Maggie had her rear left hand, though.
"Dammit! Let go!" Beth's knuckles were white, and she hurt with all that stretching. She had long ago decided, though, that in a situation like this, she would fight no matter what. She dug grabbed Maggie's hands with her back right hand and dug her nails in hard, her strength multiplied by adrenalin.
Maggie howled in pain, and Beth was once again free. She needed to use this brief bit of having the upper hand (so to speak) to her advantage. Since Maggie was distracted, Beth attacked. "Kawai!!" she screamed as she flung herself, all arms akimbo, onto Maggie's head. That force knocked Maggie backward and she tripped onto the couch. Beth continued her counterattack; using her generous bosom as a weapon, she smothered Maggie. Ignoring Maggie's own clawing, Beth kept Maggie's mouth and nose covered in breast flesh. One of Beth's transformational issues was that her breasts were sensitive to pleasure but were nearly impervious to damage and never felt pain, so even Maggie's bites got nowhere.
Maggie weakened, her body deprived of oxygen, so Beth let go and grabbed a steering wheel controller. Several hits later, and Maggie was slightly bloodied but unconscious.
Beth's eyes were fully dilated, and her chest heaved. "Like a boss," she said.
Maggie hurt. Her hand stung. Her head ached. Her lungs felt ragged. Her hardened clitoris felt like it was about to pop. She was tied up, though.
"She's awake." It sounded like Beth. Had she just tried to rape Beth? She wouldn't... Oh, wait, if that made the overwhelming need go away... But Beth was her friend, and...
"Good, good." That voice sounded like Nichelle, the president of the Society for the Acceptance of the Transformed. "How do you feel?" The voice was directed at her.
"Nnng." Yep, she was blindfolded, too. "Ow. I, uh, need release."
"Yes, you do, but it's dangerous for us to do that. You can use your hand, though. It won't be the best, but Joy tells me that it takes the edge off."
"I'm tied up, though."
"You tried to hurt Beth."
"Oh. Damn." Tears welled up. "I'm so sorry..."
"You're damn right," Beth said.
"Patience, dear. This isn't like some guy with blue balls. She has far less control at the moment." Nichelle had evidently faced back to Maggie. "I'm going to untie this... What is this? A controller?"
"Yeah! I like legacy consoles."
"I'm going to untie your hands, but remember that I've got four legs, and I can kick really hard. You're going to jack off. Then, we're going to get you to the medical center. We need to find the others."
"Okay. Others?" It started to come back to Maggie.
"Yeah, the boys. Well, the former boys, anyway. There should be three of them. But first, we need to uncloud your mind."
"Mmmm..." Maggie imagined three girls, all vulnerable, maybe needing a bit of the special attention she could provide. No! That would be monstrous. Maggie girded herself as the cable came off her wrists.
"Okay, now stroke."
She couldn't really see, but she felt up her expanded love button and wrapped her hand around it. Okay, it was only most of the way around it. She started to stroke, but there was some unpleasant friction. She reached into her vagina and grabbed some natural lubrication. "Oh, shit!" That felt pretty good, so she kept at it. There was a build-up, like a water collecting behind a dam. Each stroke made that water slosh and made that water hotter. Her member became even more lubricated as something oozed out of the tip. It was like a clog that only partly blocked the faucet. She pumped faster, and she could hear a wet flapping sound as her hand jerked. She reached her other hand into her swollen vulva. She dipped two fingers into her slavering hole and clawed away at her insides. The sensations combined to blast away that metaphorical clog, and she sprayed a huge quantity of fluid out of the tip of that uncanny clit. Each pulse was full of white hot pleasure, and she lost track of their count.
Things calmed down after that. She still really wanted to play with some girl's boobs or try sticking her clitoris into a tight pussy, but she didn't feel like an angry predator. She had her agency back.
"Good girl," Nichelle said. "You've made mess, but you should feel better." Nichelle took the blindfold off, and Maggie got a fresh look at her. For all of her weirdness as a humantaur, Maggie kind of wanted to kiss her. "Now, we need to get some clothes on you."
Maggie was wrapped in a bathrobe, trying to stay calm. Every time she lifted her head, she saw nipples poking through shirts. She really wanted to tweak them or lick them, and that made her clit twitch. It had gone flaccid, but seeing all of those nearly free nipples caused brief waves of desire. There had been an infestation of magical insects called boob bugs, and they ate bras for some reason. If you put on a new bra, they ate that, too, and your nipples got permanently bigger, so all the ladies were braless. The college president said that everyone just had to wait it out, because the bugs would eventually go away.
"Maggie Watts," the nurse called. Maggie gingerly stood up, and Beth and Nichelle nodded to her encouragingly. She wound her way into the patient room and sat on the paper-covered treatment table. "Says here that you think you have some sort of transformation disease?"
