He could feel his feet slamming into the ground, his body protesting against the treatment. Each jar drove through his injured legs, the blood dripping down tender thighs. He ignored it, each twinge driving him further as he remembered what had happened.
He remembered her, teeth ripping through his pants and grazing against his flesh. The pleasure he had felt in that moment, beyond comprehension, as her teeth had ripped into his flesh. His mind was screaming that she was biting him, that she was killing him, but all he could feel was the pleasure of each pull upon him. Until he had begun to change.
His feet collided with each other, unbalanced legs tipping him forward as he fought for balance. He regained it with effort, his feet sliding smoothly from the shoes as socks slammed into sidewalk. He whimpered a bit, trying to understand what was happening. Why it was still spreading, when it had gotten away. He couldn't stop thinking, "It's not fair."
He could feel his manhood shriveling up inside of him, drying up and sliding in. He felt it disappear, crushed between his thighs one moment, and slipping away the next. He wondered if he was supposed to check on it, for a moment, to reach his hands down and prod into his groin, and moan at the feel of it, as hot liquids gushed. Her tongue licking across its surface as she moaned, body displayed on the floor for any man who was foolish enough to take her.
He shook his to clear it, stumbling for a moment at thinking of himself as a girl. He blushed a little at how much he'd meant it, before pushing forward. He moved, one foot after the other, belly flattening, sides squeezing. He could feel his pants tightening, stumbling again as his butt pushed out.
He righted as his balance began to reassert himself, the pressure building in his chest. He refused to think of the sensations, this time, as his nipples rubbed against the shirt, pressing against cold buttons. Refused to think about hands pressing down upon them, rolling the flesh in their fingers until she stiffened. Screams of ecstasy as she rotated her own hands up and down between them, crying out for pleasure. He pretended the thought had never occurred.
His hips swayed unconsciously, body legs grinding what would have been his manhood as the pants were pushed downward. He gripped them tightly, trying to force them into fitting. He could feel his hair coming down, tickling his breasts, moving down to his bottom. He wondered for a moment how she would look with it braided, before he pushed it out again, as well.
He felt his face burning as he turned a corner, his entire body in flames as it altered itself. He could feel his organs moving, female organs forming. He was going to have to have periods, he realized. She hoped she wouldn't still be a virgin when it happened.
Then teeth pressed into her flesh, and she knew it wouldn't be a problem. They ripped into her neck, her blood spilling fee as she looked into the eyes of the woman who had done this to her. The woman he had been so frantically outrunning. "It's not fair," he and she whispered, voicing the thought that had been running through their heads.
The woman kissed them, her lips carrying blood into their mouth, forcing it down with her tongue. They gurgled on it, and choked, and felt themselves die, only one thought on their mind: It's not fair.
And then she rose.
She rose up, and kissed the woman back, her teeth grazing against the others lips. She breathed in the scent, as their bodies pressed against each other, their breasts overlapping as their hands gripped. She locked her legs around the other, arms circling for a kiss as she rubbed against the other.
She was not him, whining about fairness and trying to escape. She was not her, wanting sex and nothing else.
She was simply herself. Perhaps a combination of the two, perhaps so much more. Perhaps, she thought, her teeth biting into her maker's throat, her own neck bitten in turn, she and her knew lover would take the time to figure it out.