Tutty The Fruity
patreon
(Comm) Shapeshifters: Split Personality (Part 1)
🕑 Added 2022-04-28 13:35:03 +0000 UTCSummary: Taking place after the events of Clara the Shapeshifter, two women wake up in different places with severe cases of amnesia, and potent shapeshifting abilities. While their attitudes towards their abilities are vastly different, both go searching for the truth of their situations. Commissioned by Moneris.
---
Part 1
"Ugh..."
In the dead of night, a woman stirred awake. She was terribly groggy, her body racked with aches and pains, like a hangover that reverberated throughout the entire body.
Her nose twitched as she took in the pungent stench of stale alcohol. She focused her icy blue eyes, trying to will the world back into shapes she could recognize. Apparently she was in a dingy alley, of all places; broken glass littered the pavement, overfilled dumpsters lined the far wall, and.she could make out the din of distant sirens off in the distance.
She shivered as a cool breeze brushed over her body, as chilling as if she were bare naked.
"What a dreadful place to wake up to... this isn't like me at all." The woman murmured, shaking her head. She looked over herself to determine what sort of shape she was in.
She looked down at her body, her eyebrow perking up in response. The first thought that occurred to her was that her body was behaving in ways it shouldn't have been: her right arm had extended bonelessly, wedging itself behind a dumpster. Her waist bent at such an uncomfortable angle, she could feel her ass pressing itself into a vertex. Her body shifted as she rediscovered herself, her body squeaking and writhing like a pile of snakes...
...And what on earth was she wearing? She recognized it as a full latex bodysuit, black as ebony. She pinched the fabric, trying to pull it back; it adhered to her like a second layer of skin... actually, the way she felt it, it felt somewhat like her skin.
The woman huffed, her head turning around well past 180 degrees as her torso rose from the brick wall she had been leaning across. Along ropey limbs, she pressed along her backside, her eyes studying her backside.
...There wasn't a zipper. Not even a seam.
"...Hmph. Did I have a reason for wearing something like this about town?" She wondered quietly to herself, her rubbery body creaking as she turned her head back. She raised her knees to her chest, looking down at the soles of her feet, her toes encased in the same rubbery garb.
"There was something I was up to out here..." She tapped her chin, her jawline flowing into a diamond point. Her mind was a jumbled up mess of disconnected fragments of thoughts. She wondered if some part of her brain had been violently ripped out, but as she raised a hand to brush aside her brown hair, she found everything to be where it ought to be.
It was just the question of her memories. She thought she was looking for someone... but she could scarcely remember her own name, and she seemed to lack any sort of identification.
She didn't seem to think much of her strange, rubbery body, that which flowed so effortlessly, and yielded to her every mental command. Her neck creaked as her head drifted forward, hovering over a puddle to examine herself.
"...Hm..." She grimaced. "Nope, nothing's coming to me."
She felt like she was looking into the eyes of a different person. She studied her expression: olive-skin, narrow-cheeks, and a stern, calculating glare. She got the vibe of a boss bitch, but admittedly felt a little undermined by her poor memory at present.
The only thing that seemed to be natural was her control over her own body. Any other person would've been put off by the new makeup of her body, the lack of skeletal structure necessitating the firming up of muscles. She stood up to look herself over, her hand riding down the length of her rubber catsuit. She extended her arm in front of her, admiring it as it bonelessly performed loop after loop, with only the most slight resistance coming from the stretching in her arm.
She smiled slightly to herself. The stretching was delightful, and she rather liked the sensation of her skin being pulled from all directions. It was a familiar, budding warmth.
And she certainly was a fan of her... assets. She glanced down to her pronounced chest, the catsuit doing nothing to diminish her buxom.
"Perhaps if I went on a walk to... clear my head." She mused to herself. "I shouldn't run into anyone at this ungodly hour..."
She made to pull herself back together, and the degree of control she held over her malleable form was truly marvelous. Her neck retracted back to a more typical length, her legs shortened, knees reforming and bending to take on her weight as she raised herself off the ground. Her shapely thighs rubbed together, producing a subtle squeaking noise as she took a step forward, and then another.
She looked over her form, rubbing her hands down her body, flowing down to her glutes. There was the rippling of potential bubbling within her, she noted to herself. But what would make for a release of this superfluous energy, she silently wondered to herself? One thought was to pleasure herself, carnally and without reservation, but it was a trifling thought; she was a woman, and self-pleasure was a hollow joy beneath her.
Besides, she had more pressing issues, like tracking down her identity. She couldn't find a wallet or any such thing... maybe she would stumble across a MISSING poster in her lap around town.
She made her way out of the alleyway, glancing up to the flickering streetlights that lined the sidewalks. She inhaled deeply, taking in the fresher air, the haze of garbage and stale foodstuffs behind her. She followed the sidewalk, trying to determine if she recognized any of the places along the way.
...Perhaps she didn't, after all, she noted to herself with a frown. This part of town reeked of poverty and filth. She found herself yearning for a more sterile environment, with everything arranged just the way she liked it. The 'real world' was so disappointing like that...
...Her hearing picked up on the murmuring of men, at such a late hour. The clattering of machinery and the stench of exhaust filled the air. She thought herself to be quite the eccentric to be out so late, so she went to investigate... only to be disappointed by the mundane reality: it was a construction crew working overnight, gathered in an empty lot. For what purpose, she didn't particularly care.
She paused to gawk for a spell, flattened her mouth, and spun on her heel to continue her pace down the road...
"Hey, toots!"
She froze in her tracks, the sharp trilling of a wolf whistle cutting through her introspection. She turned to face the chorus of men, their eyes focused on her curves, accentuated so by her choice of attire.
She got a better look at the men, and she wished she hadn't. The sort of men possessed by the spirits of capitalism to slog through the night shift, the bags under their eyes and the caking of dirt, concrete dust, and general filth was wholly unappealing.
"What's a pretty thing like you doin' wandering the streets at night?" The foreman adjusted his worker's helmet, rotating his burly arms as he flexed in a wife beater as if to accentuate his muscles.
"Yeah, s'dangerous!" Another man concurred with a nod, wafts of smoke filling the air; the leather-clad woman's nostrils flared up in disgust.
"My my, I do not care for the looks you gentlemen are giving me." She muttered, putting a decidedly noncommittal tilt on the 'gentlemen' part.
"Well when a woman walks about in a get-up like that, it's her own fault she gets folks starin'." Another worker added, his eyes looking her over as if undressing them with the raw, unstoppable power of his imagination. The corner of her mouth twisted.
"Tch. I knew the dregs of society walked the streets late at night." She clicked her tongue, and made to leave. "I suppose it best they remain as invisible and inconspicuous as possible-"
"OI! Who you callin' a dreg!?" The burly man blustered. "You don't have any idea who's paying for this construction project, do ya!?"
"Certainly not any of you men, judging by the rope you're using for belts." She glanced over her shoulder. "Did you absentee fathers never teach you to tie a knot...?"
A twisted grin rose to her face as the men fumed silently. She didn't really come out on the streets looking for a fight, but it was just so easy, so fun. And now the men were rolling up their sleeves, as if the fight was about to come to her. An excitement welled up within her that she didn't know was there... yet it felt so intimately familiar.
"I'm thinking the missus needs a lesson in etiquette." Their burly leader grumbled. The other half a dozen men nodded in agreement.
"Yeah! Starting with a primer on dress code! Who wears that get up!?" Another man hollered.
"A right slut is what. If she's got it, maybe she ought to flaunt it, put on a show for us guys- urk!"
One man tried to grab at the woman's catsuit in a sly attempt to nestle his hand around her cleavage, but his outstretched hand was clasped by her own, by the wrist. She squeezed with an iron grip, before twisting the wrist with a painful jerk, eliciting a yelp of pain from the man as searing pain ripple through his arm.
"You boys want a show?" She fluttered her eyelashes, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm happy to oblige!~"
She whipped her arm upwards, throwing him over as her arm elongated before the crowd of men; the man arced, flailing in panic as, within mere moments, he had been slammed hard into the concrete sidewalk behind her. She looked at him with a satisfied grin, her elongated arm retracted as she looked over the back of her palm.
The men gawked silently, astounded at her inhuman display of strength and elasticity. They turned to each other.
"S-she's some kinda alien freak!" One blurted.
"GET HER!" The burly leader shouted. He rushed forward, winding up his arm for a huge punch dead on!
She scoffed, and stood in place, eager to take the punishment head on. He smirked as he drew back his fist, clench tight and the size of her head, as he swung!
Creeeeak... But when his fist made contact with her torso, her body... merely yielded to the force, her body bending, the outline of the fist stretching past her back. There was no crunching of bone, no punctured lungs, no internal bleeding, just a weird elastic resistance...!
"Not the most creative problem solver, are you?" She taunted, standing at the ready as his hand trembled, feeling her body straining to eject him. She rather enjoyed this, the feeling of her body stretching to its limits by a big strong man...
SPROING! Alas, her body rejected him, springing back into shape as he was pushed several feet back. His cronies glanced at one another with unsure looks..
"She can't beat all of us!" One shouted as a rallying cry.They cheered, and rushed in unison.
She smiled to herself, a rush of adrenaline taking over her. Her torso bent at a sharp, 70 degree angle to dodge a clumsy haymaker as she clenched her fist; it rippled, growing in size and shape, and producing spikes as she swung an improvised mace at the gang, sending him crashing into a brick wall. The concussive force knocked most of them unconscious on the spot, and others had their own issues of concussions and internal bleeding to deal with...
She sprang forth, her torso rapidly elongating, drinking in the sensation of her body stretching several feet at a time, the tautness grabbing her before the potential within bubbled over anew, and she grew further still. She coiled around the leader like a python did to its captive prey, a predatory glint in her eyes as she squeezed tighter and tighter.
"I think someone needs a lesson in showing care and respect to a woman, don't you?" She purred, her elastic body creaking and groaning as she tightened her grip, squeezing the air out of his diaphragm. She could feel his bones straining, his ribcage about to collapse all at once...
She adored this sensation of power. That's what had been missing; not merely the existence of her strange gifts, but her ability to exert it over others. She would delight herself in making an example of him...
ZZZZZZZZZT!
"GAH!" She cried out, a sharp electric sensation piercing through her lower body. Was that a taser? She was being tased! That was vulgar! She felt her body going numb, ropey lengths of limbs going slack and flopping against the ground. Part of her was trapped under the heavy-set man that had partially collapsed on her.
She turned her head every which way to get a read on her mystery assailant, but another harsh ZAAAAAAP! crackled at her neck! Electricity overwhelmed her conscious mind, and with a dazed groan, she passed out...
The last thing she saw was the blurry silhouette of a sharply-dressed man in a business suit standing over her.
