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Strips
🕑 Added 2021-12-06 14:53:53 +0000 UTCWoman: Lexlucas
Tarantula Fangs: Creative Commons Guy Haimovitch
Striped Tarantula: MaxPixel Free Graphics
Three years after the fact, the world now knew just what real terror was. It wasn't a few lunatics flying planeloads of passengers into buildings, it wasn't bombs on subways, it wasn't even cars packed with explosives. No, real terror was what happened when the entire world changed and no one could explain it or do anything about it. Naomi was a survivor of those times and had gone through her own time of change. It had cost her her high school sweetheart but had returned to her a much deeper love.
The world was still recovering from the attack launched three years previously. At first, no one even knew that an attack had taken place. Late in the fall of 2015, a group of small computer guided aircraft had flown from a private boat in the Red Sea. Flying low and being built as to be radar stealthy, it easily evaded the Saudi air defence radar network. Even the far superior global tracking system launched two years previously by NATO hadn't seen the plane. Their target was the heart of Islam, Mecca. Unlike the terrorists who were after death, their mission was far more sinister. Nearly silently, the aircraft released a fine mist of water containing a carefully manufactured virus.
This virus, whose origin was still to be proven (though the high council of "Church of God Triumphant", led by the now completely insane Bishop Theodric, were likely culprits), had been created to destroy Islam by taking out their population base. It turned out that many of the original converts from the Mideast had a particular genetic marker on their X chromosomes. The virus was designed to target this marker and only activate when it penetrated a cell with the marker. Then the virus would undergo the first of its two stage transformation. It's first form was that of an airborne virus in many ways similar to a mild cold. This stage was to simply spread the virus throughout the host and ensure it spread in the population as a whole. It would then go dormant for a time. Some weeks later, its more virulent phase began. The virus also contained elements of the very successful transcription viri used to regrow lost limbs and patch damaged nerves. Normally, the transcription virus had no infectious phase. It merely initiated the body to reenact its embryonic growth, recreating something that had been damaged or lost due to accident. This virus, though, carried its own program. It's goal was to high jack the cells and change the infected person into a mixture of human and animal forms. The form taken was that of a pig or dog, marking the person so transformed forever as 'unclean'.
The first infection ran true to form and virtually everyone who'd contracted the disease directly from the virus spread by the aircraft quickly caught the cold, apparently recovered, and then began to change slowly into a cross between an animal and a human. The degree to which the change happen was dependent on the strength of the person's immune system. In those with strong systems, the infection was quickly contained and they changed little, perhaps growing a tail or pointed ears. The weaker immune systems allowed the disease to spread much farther creating people that no longer had hands and feet but hooves or paws instead. Often, they were more animal than person.
The goal of the first attack it seemed was only to get the virus out to the rest of the Islamic community around the world. It was these secondary infections that caused the chaos that brought down governments, destroyed the economy in many areas of the world, caused mass panic and starvation and resulted in the peculiar state humanity now found itself. Somewhere, in the process of creating the next infectious wave in the host bodies, one or more mutations occurred. These mutations are a regular occurrence in transcription viri and this is why they were carefully manufactured by nannite robots and designed to infect once but not replicate. The result of these mutations was that the virus lost its link to its X chromosome marker. Instead of just hitting one select race, it could now infect anyone. Further, it became sensitive to testosterone. More specifically, the second stage was inhibited by large amounts of testosterone. Thus males could become ill with the 'cold' phase but found themselves (for the most part, anyway) immune to the 'transformation' phase. Women, though, with their lower testosterone levels found themselves at the mercy of the virus.
It would have been bad enough had the virus continued to make people into pig hybrids but, as fate would have it, the virus began to pick up other stray bits of DNA from other creatures as it's cold phase infected them and then left their systems. Soon a wave of transformations began to sweep the globe. Women everywhere began to acquire all kinds of strange bits of extra biology. The result was, not too unpredictably, chaos. In the developed world, half the workforce is female. You can't lose half your skilled people without some effect. The developing world, where the women did the bulk of the domestic and agricultural labor, were much harder hit. Without women, domestic industry, the mainstay of subsistence economies worldwide, simply collapsed.
This is where we pick up Naomi's tale. Naomi once lived in the city of Chicago. Chicago, as we know now, has been burned over at least twice. Little remained. Naomi was one of the lucky one's to escape that human caused disaster. She was taking courses for her biology degree (in preparation, so she hoped, to qualify for a medical degree in three years time). She enjoyed working with all kinds of creatures and often volunteered to help out in the prep labs getting things ready for the week's labs. It was here she discovered her professor's research interest. Dr. Gerald Klinger studied tarantula's. He was primarily interested in their adaptations to desert life and had a small breeding set up in the back of the main prep lab.
He, like everyone else, caught the 'cold' but was soon back on his feet. Unknown to his students, however, his virus had dropped its pig DNA somewhere along the line and grabbed the tarantula DNA from his specimens. Naomi was among the people infected by this modified strain. Her 'cold' was finished in a few days and she was soon back to classes.
About 20 days later, though, she began to notice that there was a strange hair starting to sprout all over her body. She'd heard of the TF virus by this point and, excusing herself from classes, stayed home. This was the recommended course of action by the health authorities because the sheer number of infected women was beginning to strain the medical facilities. Besides, no one died from the TF once they recognized the form it was taking and they made preparations for whatever new requirements their body would need.
But fur wasn't terribly definitive. Many things had fur and Naomi simply couldn't afford the genetic assay (it cost thousands of dollars) that would determine what the virus was doing to her. Besides, she'd always been healthy and hoped she'd be one of the lucky ones that didn't change much. As the fur became denser, though, Vance, that pompous cad, decided he didn't want anything to do with someone "contaminated" by the virus. After all, he had his reputation to uphold. Despite her pleadings (by phone, voice mail and online), he quickly and cruelly broke of contact demanding she never see or talk to him again.
Naomi, her heart in tatters and her life turned upside down by the changes that were taking place, tried to keep things going as best she could. She'd registered for the confinement allotment, of course. Though the food was simple fare (definitely on the cheap side), it would keep her alive until this change was done. What's more, FEMA was delivering it by robot to all the infectees to keep them from contacting others and spreading the disease. No agency, including FEMA, had realized at this point that the women were no longer infectious at all. It was the male half of the population that were carriers and spread the disease.
Over the next weeks, Naomi continued her studies over the Internet all the while growing long silky grey and black hair in bands on her body. This hair started in her pelvic region but soon had spread to cover everything but her face, the palms of her hands and her fingers. This fur was soon nearly 5 cm long over much of her body and longer still at her hips. The apartment became increasingly hot as the fur grew and Naomi took to wearing less and less. Finally, unable to stand the touch of clothing at all over the fur, she dispensed with clothing entirely. It was this need to run about nude, save her fur, that led to the diagnosis of her transformation. One evening, discussing the current assignment with Dr. Klinger, she accidentally activated her computer camera. She'd deliberately turned it off when the transformation had begun because she didn't want other people to see her. Before she could disable the camera again, Dr. Klinger caught sight of her fur.
"Do you want to know?" he asked.
"Know?"
"I think I know what DNA you've been infected with."
"How? I haven't had the tests."
"No. So you told me. But I recognize the fur nonetheless. It's never this long, of course, and I'm not completely certain. Hard to tell from only a few second look."
"How can you ..." Naomi's voice trailed off. The good doctor was an spider expert! "The spiders?" she asked.
"I think so. Please turn your camera back on."
"I really don't ... " Naomi began then she paused. It was better to know. "Okay." She toggled the camera.
"It is as I thought. I have a striped tarantula just like that in the breeding terrariums."
"So?"
"So the virus has carried some of that DNA into your body. I'm sure that's the source of your transformations. Tarantula DNA."
"And what would that mean?"
"Naomi, I wish I knew. Like all geneticists and biologists, I've been following the progress of this strange virus. You could be nearly done or just starting. Until the virus runs its course and the changes stop happening, no one can be sure."
"What's going to happen to me?" Naomi's voice cracked.
"Well, we have a spare room in the containment facility here on campus. If you'd like, I could have it fixed up and you could live there. I'd be willing to monitor the changes to let you know how far along you are and when they've stopped."
"Could I get back to you on that? It's kind of, like, overwhelming," Naomi stated lamely. Overwhelming was an understatement.
"Sure. I don't know how long it'll stay open though. Combating the virus is a priority."
"I'll give you my answer tomorrow morning?" she asked hopefully.
"That would be fine."
That evening, Naomi thought through her options. She had few enough possessions of her own. This being a furnished apartment, she didn't own anything more than the clothes in her closets and cupboards (that she couldn't stand to wear any longer), a few pieces of jewelry and her computer. After agonizing over the decision for what seemed like hours, she began packing her clothes into a trio of large suitcases. They would go into storage. Only her computer and jewelry would come with her. She was going to live in the containment facility.
The containment facility's room proved larger than her own apartment. Without clothes, she found that one small drawer was enough to hold everything. She arranged to transfer her confinement allotment to the lab only to be told that the lab had already arranged for her needs in that regard. After all, if she were willing to be a guinea pig for research, the least they could do is feed her.
Her days now included occasional tests as well as her homework and studying. Various scans were performed every second day to determine the progress of the virus. Externally, not much seemed to be happening. Internally though, things were being shifted about and modified. She discovered that she was having difficulty with plant-based foods and was soon concentrating on whatever proteins were available. Her appetite, usually small, had increased enormously. Dr. Klinger (Jerry to Naomi, by now) told her it was her body's way of garnering the energy necessary to handle the changes induced by the virus.
Within a few weeks, all the extra food seemed to be having some kind of effect. She was developing a distinctly large bottom. It started fairly small but soon, it looked like she was wearing some kind of strange furry bustle from Victorian times. The changes continued as week-by-week this bustle increased in size until it was nearly twice the size her buttocks had been. It was soon joined by strange bumps that sprouted along its bottom and at its front. At the tip of the bustle, a small globe began to grow as well. It was soon very apparent that these were the beginnings of her spider abdomen and legs. Naomi wondered how far along things would go.
Somewhere about three months in, Naomi missed a period. Since she'd never been sexually active (even with that monster Vance) and hadn't had any kind of sexual activity at all since coming to the lab. She began to worry. Her Mom had stopped menstruation when her cancer had started. She began to worry about cancer. Having no one else to confide in, she told Jerry. He quickly arranged for a cancer specialist to come into the lab and perform the required tests.
A week passed before the results came back but by then it was apparent what was really happening. The report was completely anticlimactic as Naomi herself had discovered what was changing. She awoke one morning, feeling full in her tummy and had pushed out a pair of smooth white eggs. It seem the virus had changed the way her body worked sufficiently to make her lay eggs instead of have babies the usual way. The discovery of the eggs, although alleviating fears of cancer, produced other anxiety. Would she be able to have children in her changed form? Or was she doomed to be alone in whatever form the virus left her? Jerry, even with the considerable resources of his information access card, could give her no answer.
Her thorax, for such was what her pelvis had become, had finished growing and had hardened. Naomi felt as if her body were attached to some kind of plastic blob. It was becoming increasingly difficult to walk because of the weight of the thorax and the ever lengthening legs and abdomen.
Being part of those affected by the virus, she became increasingly interest in the news reports. The early gloating pronouncements from Bishop Theodric of "just punishment of the godless heathen" made many news reports. Soon though these were overshadowed by increasingly panicked reports from around the world of civil war, murder of affected women and collapse of governments. One of the last reports out of Europe before the situation deteriorated into mob rule was one regarding Bishop Theodric. His wife, now affected too, was being bundled off to India. Many half-cattle women were being shipped to safety in places that revered cattle. It was noted, though, that the Bishop himself had disappeared and a world-wide search for him was in progress.
Naomi became close friends with Jerry over the next months. It seemed, for some strange reason, that he was becoming interested in her more and more as a partner and less as a research subject or research assistant as time went on. Time brought other changes, too. Naomi soon discovered that the legs growing from the belly of her thorax had divided in several places and she soon learned to move them. Jerry arranged for a consultation with a physiotherapist but he could provide little advice. His training had been more concerned with people than people-size spiders. He recommended stretching exercises and moving about as much as she could. Naomi, having nothing else to do, complied.
The news from the American side of the Atlantic soon turned dark. People blamed the government for not doing enough. It took the militia, national guard and the armed forces of Canada and the USA to maintain some form of order. It was becoming increasingly clear that this was but a stopgap measure. Jerry and Naomi discussed the situation one evening and he announced that he felt they'd be safer in his mountain villa. Packing her few things again, she the helped him pack essential supplies and materials. They then borrowed a university truck and carted the whole lot to a plane. She didn't know he could fly but soon discovered that there was someone else at the controls.
Naomi soon found herself in the rear of the plane like a very strange piece of cargo. She could no longer sit in the plane's seats but found that she could stand in the back with the claws of her spider legs gripping the cargo hold-downs. Even during takeoff and rough weather, this proved sufficient for her to remain stable. Hours later, she and Jerry were deposited on a small grass strip somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. Their belongings and the research supplies were quickly off loaded. Then the plane turned and roared down the strip, barely clearing the trees at the far end.
It took the rest of the day to get everything squared away in the remote lab. It turned out that the lab was actually an ecology station and had a considerable population already. Many of the faculty and their families had taken over the bunks in the cabins of the main station. Naomi discovered that she wasn't the only affected one though as several other women were part animal as well. There was even another spider woman, Eloise. She was one of the lab assistants and was further along that Naomi herself.
Despite the slow growth of her spider legs, though, Naomi still found it difficult to accept the slow atrophy of her once beautiful legs. The transformation, having supplied her with a lower body that was definitely that of a tarantula, now turned to removing unnecessary pieces left over from her life as a human. A full month passed as her legs thinned and weakened. Soon they became rubbery as well as minerals were leached from the bones to support growth elsewhere in her body. Naomi discovered that, despite their weakness, she could still lift them from the ground and hold them beneath her. She'd discovered that her eight spider legs were far more efficient for getting around than her emaciated human legs. Eloise had finished absorbing her legs a week before. All that was left of them was a pair of curious bumps at the sides of the thorax. Everything else was a shiny green spider.
Naomi, too, began to absorb her legs. Over the space of a week, they shrank from nearly normal in length (though decidedly skinny) to skin covered sausages that no longer reached the ground. All through this time, Jerry was there for her. Comforting her, encouraging her, and (strange as it seemed to Naomi after Vance's pronouncement) falling in love with her. As her legs continued to shrink, though, Naomi began to notice she was developing four bumps around her vagina. Worried that something decidedly odd was happening, she scuttle to Jerry for an explanation.
"Can I take a few more measurements, love?" he asked, concern in his voice.<
"Sure, anything you want."
He disappeared and returned a few moments later with a tape measure. He measured the placement of the new bumps and that of the now nearly full size spider legs that had replaced her legs. He dug out a calculator and did some calculations.
"I think that's the beginnings of your pedipalps - your manipulator legs," he paused. "And maybe your fangs, too."
"I thought ... fangs?" she pointed to her face."
"This virus does strange things to the body's machinery. For a spider, the pedipalps and fangs are at the front of the thorax. Just about here," he ran his hand across the fine fur covering the bumps. This sent a tingle down Naomi's spine. She could feel the spider hairs lifting all up her back.
"Don't do that," she smiled. "You never know what might get started." Jerry just smiled.
The next week saw the rapid growth of the pedipalps. True to Jerry's assessment, they were very flexible and supple. They were nearly as good as her hands for some things and a lot stronger than her arms for lifting. It was the fangs, when they arrived that surprised and scared Naomi. Flanking her vagina, a pair of hairy palps extended and from them, curving inward and down, was a pair of sharp dagger-like fangs. Naomi found she could control the fangs as easily as any other part of her strangely altered body. But she worried, what man would want a woman that could kill him in the middle of sex? Guys were predictable about things like that with unchanged women but how many would risk their lives for a few moments of pleasure?
This was a debate she had often with herself as she discovered that she was falling as much in love with Jerry as he had with her. Love was one thing but it often lead to other things. Would she be able to control the fangs in the throes of passion? Naomi had no idea and was very reluctant to try it out. It would all be well if she were able but she could end up killing the only man that seemed able to love her as she now was.
It was Jerry who took the initiative a few weeks later though. He arrived in their cabin a strange smile on his face.
"What's up with you? You only get that kind of smile when you've got a surprise in store?"
"Yes, honey. I have the best of surprises. A number of them in fact." He stood there, at the far end of the main room, grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat.
"Come on! Don't keep me in suspense forever."
"First, you've stopped changing. The last set of tests says the virus in your body is dead and gone."
"Have you found a cure then?" She knew that's what everyone in this remote station was working towards.
"No not yet. But that isn't all."
He took a step forward. She could see he was excited about something but couldn't imagine what it might be. Then, without a word, he quickly strode forward and embraced her, kissing her. In her shock, she reacted and felt her fangs just break his skin.
"Don't worry, my dear. Those poison samples I've been taking from you for the past three weeks weren't all for research. I've built a special serum from them. I'm immune to your fangs now. Worst they can give me is a nasty nip now."
Naomi gasped. All her worries about killing him were gone, finished by a simple surprise development he'd been keeping secret. She wasn't sure whether to love him for it or feel angry that he hadn't trusted her enough to tell her about what he'd been up to. In the end, though, her love told her he'd done it as a a surprise. It was then she caught a whiff of a smell, a strange smell. It was musky in some ways and smoky in others. It was pleasant, no stimulating. Naomi found herself responding almost against her will. Quickly she grabbed him with her front pair of legs and held him close, her pedipalps stripping the pants from him. She knew what he wanted, the scent told her!
"Over there, love," he indicated the soft rug by the fireplace. "Much better, there."
She lifted him from the ground and carried him, unresisting to the rug. All the while, he was being carried, he was stroking her fur. The effect was electric and she could scarcely control her ardor as they reached the rugs. Tilting him onto his back, she pressed herself forward and felt him rise to her stimulation. As he entered her, she felt her fangs clamp down on his hips but not to bite, to hold in as firm an embrace as was possible.
Hours later, she still held him close as they lay, side-by-side on the rug.
"Damn, that was good," Jerry smiled.
