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The bride's sting (Monthly tale - 41)
🕑 Added 2021-09-14 14:31:37 +0000 UTC(Bride into mosquito)
“Ggggggggggguuuuhhh! Come on! Shit! It has to fit!”
The mature woman’s struggles echoed around the walls of the fancy hotel room.
Curvaceous vixen Vero Andaluza was bending over, wearing only her underwear. Her round cheeks were almost as red as her shoulder length red hair, she was short, with fair skin, a well aged body with a few graceful wrinkles, preserved with care and the tasteful touch of the plastic surgeon's scalpel.
“Can you hold your breath, mom?!” she was asked by her daughter, Joanna, a taller younger copy of Vero, with long raven hair and a less rounded face.
“What do you think I’m doing!”
Behind Joanna, lying on the bed, rests Vero's wedding dress, with it’s long skirt and elaborate shoulders.
The wedding was tonight.
It would be Vero’s third, after her first divorce when she was young and the second one, which was even worse than the first, that led to her becoming a mom, rightfully acquiring the title of MILF and eventually becoming a rich widow.
But this one was going to be the good one.
Or so she hoped.
Vero closed her lips, Joanna pulled on the straps of the sea blue corset she was trying to fasten around her mother’s torso. The straps slipped from Joanna’s fingers and with a slap the corset sprung open wide.
Joanna fell over onto the bed.
Gasping, Vero took a couple of steps forward towards the full length mirror in front of which she was standing, gasping hard as her none too busty tits slid free of their fabric constraint.
“SHIT!” she cried. “I’m not fat!”
“You are not fat, mom,” Joanna told her. “You just bought a corset that was too small… Why couldn’t you just pick one in your size?”
“Like I was some sort of fat old fat cow?” she said, but when she looked back at her daughter her face disfigured with horror. “GET YOUR FAT ASS UP!” the vixen yelled grabbing her daughter's arm and pulling. “You’re sitting on the dress!”
Joanna stood up, quite annoyed that her mother seemed to value the dress more than her.
“You are hysterical!” the young woman complained. “Just calm down already will you, you have like twenty hours before the stupid wedding, you are going to be crawling the walls by then if you don’t calm down!”
With her breasts hanging free Vero knelt in front of the dress, ignoring her daughter and carefully inspecting the fabric for any imperfections, when she found one she looked back towards Joanna.
“Can’t you just be careful for once?! You could have torn it apart!” she shouted.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
“You fell on the bed, stop whining. Sigh… we’ll have to go and buy another damned corset!”
“Why do you even care so much?”
“How can you even ask that? I’m getting married!”
“It's not the first time.”
“But it is the last, and I want it to be perfect, not a mess like the other two, I want Raymond to be sure…”
“Mom, Raymond doesn’t care about this silly stuff like having to wear blue and all that bs, neither do I by the way, it’s only you.”
Vero caressed her dress.
“Raymond is a wonderful man…” she bundled. “Hot, lovely…”
“Rich.”
“Rich indeed.”
“Mom, you are a forty eight year old woman marrying for money and sex, just lower your expectations already or you’re gonna have another heart attack.”
“I want more than money and sex!”
“What?”
The mature vixen blushed like a teen.
“...L-love…” she mumbled.
Joanna’s eyes open wide with disbelief, she shook her head and having reached her annoyance threshold, moved to leave the room.
“Yeah, that’s enough for me,” she said. “Going out… for a walk or something, I need to de-stress.”
“But the corset…!”
Her daughter opened the door.
“Later!” was her response after going outside and then closing the door behind her.
Vero remained on her knees for a while longer, before sighing again and getting up. Alone in the room, she took off the constricting corset and tried to slide her panties down, but they gave her some problems on her rear.
“Nnnnnhhh! I’ll have to pick a bigger pair of these too…” she moaned after finally managing to pull them down.
Naked, she rubbed her sore crotch and then grabbed the wedding dress. Holding it delicately against her chest she spun to look at her reflection in the full length mirror.
In the polished glass surface she saw herself as a princess, or more accurately a queen, and she smirked with a giggle.
“I’m not silly…” she whispered confidently, fondling the white fabric.
Yet her confidence didn’t last.
Her smile died and her hand slowly stopped moving.
Doubt tormented the vixen’s mind, money and sex had been good enough for so long, but her maturing years had made her crave a bit more.
“Money and sex,” she mumbled. “Food and sex, you could say as well, that’s all I’m worth?”
She lowered the dress, and then, still holding it with one hand she stood fully nude in front of the mirror.
“Old cunt…” she said to her reflection, following by her biting her bottom lip with deep frustration.
If she could know for certain that the weight on her chest would ease, she could go on with her life no matter the truth…
How transparently insincere was her fiance? She had tried to be honest, at least this time, wasn't it right for her to want him to do the same in exchange?
“I have only cheated on him once…” a small pause. “Twice…” Vero rubbed her forehead and stared directly at her reflection’s eyes. “I swear, I would give anything to just be a bug on the wall of that room to know just how much of a douchebag Raymond truly is.”
Those were her exact words.
In a heartbeat, Vero Andaluza's womanly reflection disappeared forever.
It took a few seconds for her brain to catch up to what her eyes were seeing or more exactly, weren’t seeing in the mirror.
Vero looked again, looked left and right.
“What the… Did I…” she mumbled, confused. “Disappear…?”
She looked down and saw her breasts, she even squeezed them to make sure they were still there. That she was still there.
In the mirror she didn’t see herself, the dress was hanging in thin air. The vixen began to freak out.
“This is not right…” was her eventual conclusion.
Panicking only made her lean more into the odd nature of the event, her breathing and heartbeat grew faster. She carefully left her wedding dress on the bed and went to check the mirror.
The woman kept looking, behind, in front, in every corner of the glass rectangle.
It was just a mirror… a mirror that had decided to not show her reflection anymore…
Vero held both hands across her chest.
“I’m freaking out…!”
She ran to the room’s bathroom, opened the door, seeking her reflection in the sink’s mirror… nothing… Just the reflection of everything, expect her.
Slowly she took a step back, shaking her head.
“What sort of sick joke is this?!”
She ran towards the commode on the other side of the room, annoyed and scared.
Above the commode there was another mirror, another chance. Vero leaned in as close to the glass as she could. Her eyes saw the hotel room in the reflection, but not a single trace of the woman that had paid for the room.
“I AM HERE!” she shouted. “I exist!”
Her body tensed, the frustration made her give in without a second or first thought.
One of Vero’s hands just slid towards her crotch and began to rub her pussy. Softly gasping and moaning she raised a leg, put her knee on the commode, as her finger went deeper.
“I’m here, you stupid piece of glass! I’m right here!” she grunted.
Vero put her forehead against the mirror as she continued her masturbatory rage trip…
And then she finally saw it.
A tiny, almost imperceptible, insignificant dark spot on the glass surface. So small that it wasn’t surprising why she hadn’t seen it before.
Without stopping her rubbing she focused on that unremarkable dark spot, seeing the details… the thin legs, the wings…
“A bug…?” she wondered, clenching her eyelids. “A… mosquito…”
With her free hand she tried to squish it, but her finger tips met the glass. The mosquito was trapped inside… or… on the other side…
As she scratched the glass with her finger tip she noticed something, the tiny bug seemed to be moving one of her thin front legs at the same time.
Her heart bounced inside her chest, her breathing grew heavier.
Vero gradually cocked her head to the left and in the mirror, on the other side, at the same time, the mosquito perfectly imitated the movement.
The vixen cocked to the other side… and, once again, the mosquito matched it…
Her lips clench, her eyes open wide… her skin feels dry, even inside her cunt…
“N-no…” she managed to babble. “No… No… that…”
She stopped right before the orgasm… but it was already too late for that to save her…
The mosquito was her reflection.
The mosquito was her.
“Nooooooo!” her voice trembling. “I’m not that!” her eyes itched. “I’m not ghhhhhhhhhhhllllllllllllllll…!” her words failed.
Against her will her tongue pushed out of her mouth. It felt stiff between her lips, her face stretched slightly around it. Her eyes crossed as she looked down at it.
“MHMMMMMMHHHH! Ge bac in! Ge bac in! NHHHHHHNNNNNNG!”
Vero did her best to pull it back, but she just couldn’t. She flapped her hands around in panic as the tongue was pushed even further out, still getting harder. When it was so far out that it seemed that just a single extra inch would make her tongue detach her throat a pinch of pain struck at it’s tip.
“HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”
A thin ponty appendage perforated the tip of the tongue, elongating out of the flesh, a long black tube in the shape of a needle. So long that if she looked down it reached far down between her tits.
She felt her breath coming out of the end of the needle.
She already knew what it was.
The sting she was going to use to drink blood for the rest of her life.
“I di nu ak fo diz! NO DIIIIIIIIIIZ!”
Vero punched the mirror, the glass cracked but remained in place. The cracks broke her reflection in a dozen or more shards and in every one of them no trace of the woman was visible, just her fate.
The mosquito she was turning into.
“NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!”
She tried to run away, only to step on the hem of the wedding dress’ skirt, causing her to trip and fall over down onto all fours. On the floor she cried and moaned, her skin felt dry to the point where it looked like yellowish papyrus that shed a tiny bit with every move she made.
Her intention was to crawl away, but she hadn’t even advanced a meter before the changes made her stop.
“Fliiiiiiiiizzzzzzzz! Fliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiz! Di akz fo diiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIZ!”
Vero clenched her teeth around the tube as her sides were pierced by new appendages, it also happened to her middle fingers and toes. Long and articulated, three pairs of them, her body rose up as the flow of the metamorphosis made her tiptoe over them.
Those things were her new insectoid legs.
There was no room for reason in her brain as the six legs tapped the floor before she even had a chance of grasping how to use them.
“Maaaaaaade id ztoooooooop!” she bent her legs, lowered her torso and lifted up her rear. “Made id ztoooooooooooooooo!”
In a single horrid bursting instant Vero’s rear was torn apart by the growth of an insect abdomen that swelled rapidly to it’s full proportions. A segmented sack for her to fill with blood.
She gurgled and groaned in misery, every move shedding more and more of her skin, inch at inch, making it fall off onto the floor where it turned into dust.
The weight of her abdomen and the effort to balance herself on her tangle of new limbs only hastened her transformation. Hair, fingers, her whole legs, everything crumbled away, too fast for her to seek help or to give a chance of anybody finding her in that terrifying midpoint between a human and insect.
Her dizzy, terrified mind understood that and realized that once it was over nobody would ever link the minxing vixen with the new bug.
Who would pay attention to a mosquito other than to squash the annoying pest?
“GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHH!” cried Vero, mortified by her luck. “I diiiiin miiiieeen ditedaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllll!”
Her eyes hurt as if they were burning.
Her torso barrelled up and contracted, shortening around her legs.
She had to bend her back, and hold her breath as a new outrageous burst occurred: Her wings sprouting from her lower back.
Two extra appendages, perhaps even more alien than any of the other changes ruining her form. They flapped, barely under her control, shedding more of her skin, even though there was not much left of it anyhow.
That burst of her wings had destroyed her torso, making her lose her breasts and her status as a mammal. Freed from human constraints the surface that had replaced her skin hardened, darkened and became coated by short thick hairs.
Only her face, minus an ear, seemed to remain in that human sized mosquito. Dry and stretched, that patch of skin barely hid the deforming mutation behind it.
If there had been anybody around to witness the end of the transformation they might have interpreted the scene as if a mosquito had stolen Vero Andaluza’s existence, wearing it as a poor disguise… or as if what had always been inside the mature vixen was finally coming to the surface…
But there was nobody around to make such interpretations and they would only show a mosquito.
Vero tried to shout one last time as she felt the last bursting taking over her head, but she completely lost the ability to speak or even to babble as fuzzy antennae and other appendages that she neither wanted to know the name of or to be the owner of finally sprouted through the last remains of her skin.
Her eyes inflated out of their sockets, claiming most of her head's surface, and she wasn’t even allowed to scream as the inevitable conclusion was reached.
A giant female mosquito, that stood perfectly still, trying to comprehend what or how could this have happened to her, yet she wasn’t even given a moment to think or to adapt to her fragmented field of vision before the shrinking began.
Quicker than the shedding of her humanity she shrank and compressed, from meters to centimetres and then even tinier than that.
Every single one of her hopes and dreams squeezed into less than 10 millimeters.
The transformation finished.
Silence claimed the hotel room.
No trace remaining of Vero Andaluza.
If anyone had cared to look around near the edge of the bed they would have seen a female mosquito freaking out, doing movements that were not at all usual for such creatures.
Jumping, flapping its wings, bending it’s legs… as if it was disgusted by her own body… but that probably wouldn’t help anybody realize that Vero’s mind and heart were trapped in that pathetically insignificant existence.
“Shit! SHIT! SHIT!” the mosquito screamed inside her tiny head. “SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! This is a nightmare! Please, please, be a nightmare!”
Her mental pleas went unheard, this nightmare was her life now. Not even allowed to cry and having to fight a body that seemed to actively oppose her she stopped to take a breath, or at least that was her idea, because it was then that she realized that she hadn't been breathing since her wings burst out of her back.
After a moment of panic about the possibility of asphyxiation she soon learned that she didn’t have to worry about that, oxygen was still entering her body… through her skin…
“This is disgusting!” resounded in her head.
Her anger, frustration and humiliation slowly lead to a resigned realisation of the fact that now she was a mosquito and had no way to solve that or restore herself, not even imagining how that would even be possible, her previous form may as well have been her being a larva born in a pond.
Thinking about laying eggs only further infuriated her.
What else could she do having reached this point other than go get her sorry wish?
Vero began to flap her wings, severely missing her eyelids.
“Here goes nothing…!”
The gigantic oppressive world around became an acceptable blur, the speed, the wind in her antenna.
Reluctantly the former vixen had to concede that flying was pretty neat and instinct helped her to be a natural at it. At the end of her abdomen her ovaries tingled with excitement, that action, flying, was the point which made the woman’s brain and the mosquito’s brain, the two parts that were a reflection of each other, merge into an inseparable whole.
She swiftly slid under the door, flew down corridor dodging a maid and a food cart and arrived at Raymond’s room. After that getting inside and landing was a piece of cake.
Finally she was nothing but a bug in the wall and in front of the wall she saw the room and had to wonder if it didn't hurt as much as she expected because she no longer had a fully human heart.
Vero saw Raymond with his pants down, on top of a woman, relentlessly thrusting into the woman’s crotch. The woman happened to be her daughter Joanna.
Her mind collapsed, became blank and slowly began to run again. She wasn’t angry at Joanna, not that much anyhow, she was her daughter even if she was having sex with her fiance and, as a mother, she felt sorta proud of her daugther winning at the game she had played during her human life.
At least she was certain that Joanna would be looked after while she was lost in the insect world.
But Raymond… there was no need to rationalize just how much Raymond deserved to receive his comeuppance, and Vero had an idea.
The only kind of idea a mosquito can have.
She began to flap her wings.
Raymond's mouth dropped open, in the mirror on the other wall he saw something impossible: Vero was in the room, naked and hanging from the wall, like some sort of bug-woman.
She also seem to be very, very angry.
Startled and confused, he looked around, but his fiancee was nowhere to be seen.
“Why did you stop…?” groaned Joanna with annoyance.
Before he could answer he heard a buzzing sound and then a pain on his balls.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”
Yelling in pain and grabbing his crotch, his penis slid from inside Joana’s vagina, he fell backwards and rolled around on the floor.
“What’s going on?!” Joanna asked.
Raymond couldn’t answer, the pain too intense.
On the skin of his ballsack Vero’s sting had penetrated deeply, the scorned mosquito sucked angrily, making sure it hurt and left a scar, her goodbye. The red warmth climbed her sting directly into her abdomen which quickly swelled as she drank.
Similar to the happy surprise that had been the joy of flying, she found that sucking blood was quite pleasurable, it made her feel powerful despite being so utterly insignificant.
Once her arse was full of blood she took off from his scrotum before Raymond's fingers could reach her. By the time Joanna knelt at the side of the crying man the mosquito had already reached the rooms open window.
She stopped for a final moment on the frame, as satisfied as she could be and with her belly full the mosquito left the hotel.
The wedding was canceled.
The bridegroom was on his way to the hospital with a severe case of a swollen nutsack.
The bride was gone, flying away, neither a vampiress, nor a fairy queen, a bug no longer bound to any wall. Not entirely happy, but not as mad as she maybe should have been and feeling a tiny bit curious about her blood-sucking future.
