Last Edit: Apr 30th, 2015
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Reader Notice: This story was written foor the TF fan and may not be worthwhile reading for the critcal literary purest!
My story begins with the receipt of a post card sent by my college friend Sandy Chapman. He traveled during a summer semester to meet up with his step-father, a doctor-scientist on sabbatical in Africa. His short memo told of arriving safe to Nigeria, and the next day, begin then a long trek to cross the jungle to the vast plains of the Serengeti.
His next as later communication with me came by way of another, mutual friend, a Ham radio operator by the name of Bob. When contacted, Bob phoned me to come to his home and there to converse with my world traveler friend. I did and from our fun time hours of communicating, Bob and I learned a lot about the weirdness of tribal life in African and of lore mysteries.
Sandy had found and joined with his stepfather, getting settled, his permission to mingle among the people of the Nunji tribe. He gained a rudimentary knowledge about the special project, the experimentation and use of the Nunji knowledge dealing with varied plants, their enzymes and how to make from them medicinal cures or punishments.
The word punishment stirred my imagination and stimulated the 10-4 and over type discussion. Bob asked if Sandy had seen how the enzymes were used to cause punishment. What hr and I heard then came as a rather detailed description of one such instance Sandy witnessed.
Sandy spoke of his meeting the tribal chief, and of his lovely daughter. They became as friends, talking as walking together, were watched over by the tribal elders and the people, they thinking along the lines of very superstitious beliefs dealing with magic.
Saysa her name, Sandy said, she being different, pretty even if dark as night, had an enchanting smile, a great figure, well endowed, her thin cloth dresses tented by her constantly aroused nipples. Saysa walked and talked with a sense of personal grace and a great appreciation of her father, the people, and her living among the tribe. She had such sense of enthusiasm for showing Sandy everything of the natural wonders there on the central plains. Saysa, Sandy noted seemed different, one oddity was she rarely would perspire from the hot as humid weather. When as after some exertion such as running she did perspire her bodily scent acted to arouse Sandy. She used her scent as an attracting of male animals, as an example the tribe herd of goats wandering the village.
Sandy told of being with Saysa when one large gray colored buck goat approached with ideas to greet her. The goat would reach its muzzle close and give a sniff at her crotch, from which she would giggle. Then the goat would push its muzzle closer, taking a friendly lick of her sensual folds. Bleating, the male goat would rise upon hind legs to fawn his fore legs over her shoulders. Saysa would plant on the goat lips a friendly kiss, what aroused the male goat, it gaining an erection, tried to wiggle it closer as with want to mate.
Saysa let the goat get to where his long as narrow pencil-dick would brush against her thigh before slapping it away before it found its mark. The big buck acted as if Saysa was an alpha to the herd, and stood back down to stand on all fours, retracting his penis into its sheath. Saysa knew each of the goats by name and spoke to her wanton lover, she kneeling, as petting its face and kissing the goat on his lips.
Sandy told how the goats minded Saysa as if they seemingly understood her words, or body language, giving the idea they were trained to think of her as if a doe goat to the herd. When they spoke, Saysa knew well the English language. She acted the part of a smart interpreter of languages and animal traits. She talked about her hopes of realizing future and mutual plans for her life, of finding a true love, someone to accentuate her sense of being all human. Her comments on this subject caused Sandy some strange disturbing wonderment, as he felt Saysa trying to allure him to thinking as wanting to become for her a lover.
The witnessing of a punishment caused Saysa and Sandy a time of separation as ordered by her father, he the tribal chief. Thievery in the village, a teen youth was judged guilty by mere hearsay and sentence. Sandy told about the quick manner of tribal judgment and the sentencing of the supposed thief. The youth was not allowed a defense, as innuendo about his manners and ideals were on trial, and not a thing mentioned as to his crime.
When the Chief judged the youth as guilty, those of the elder men there took hold the thief and bound him with leather straps. They dragged away a screaming, crying as pleading boy to a special place where the sentencing was witnesses by the men of the tribe. Saysa and Sandy were not allowed to follow, but ultimately did and with the use of his camera and lens, he watched from afar.
Saysa spoke as if she knew what the youth would endure, as trussed him up off the ground, left suspended from a tree branch to struggle, wriggle and await his punishment.
As the ceremony began with the rumbling of drumbeating to set the mood, Saysa told of the last such punishment she knew about, of a boyfriend Fumbe, he almost a lover, shamed by her father and made to be submissive. Her father, used the essence scent of an animal along with the exotic plant enzymes to condemn and imprison her friend, he being the bold as lust-loving goat who wanted to breed with her just days before!
Her story and comment made Sandy chuckle, while the slow clicking sound of his camera shutter taking a photograph of the proceedings alerted the chief, he turning to cast an evil stare toward where Sandy and Saysa were sitting. The man motioned for Doctor Chapman to find and then control his mischievous stepson.
Sandy told as of his doctor stepfather acted upset more with Saysa than of Sandy for their desecrating the sentence-punishment meeting. Sandy heard about then of many things his father told from his experience there with the tribe. Some of what his father said troubled Sandy, and could not understand why his stepfather would be a partner to the ruling men in power over the tribe lifestyles. Most important was that Sandy needed to accept the rules of a tribal society. The chief was the one man to careful of as not to lose his trust, he could do anything to remain in control, even to sentencing Sandy to endure a punishment.
Saysa began to cry at that point, she hugging Sandy and caused the Doctor to look as disturbed seeing the girl showing her passion. Allowed then to remain silent and watch as the Chief and Isingoma, he the tribal medicine man made use of rare and exotic plant enzymes, and mixing of them, made a pasty salve applied to the youth before covered with the white clay dust. The sweating youth hung suspended off the ground, slimed with enzyme and doused with a white clay dust. As he breathed in the dust the bound prisoner began wreathing as if the dust caused him great pain.
Sandy learned then about the chief having a bag of tricks, some of which bordered on witchcraft, as black as it could be, being evil if evil existed. As the punishment began, his stepfather argued the moral values of such judgment, to where his stepfather offered an ultimatum. “Do as I say or my stepson or you may discover the horror from ceasing to being human.”
Told then to believe his stepfather, was a witness of such great miracles while there, to his having had the Chief grant his guest a short time of insight. Three days and two nights of similar an experience to what that youth teen would go through, but for him the punishment was on a very permanent basis.
Sandy was not sure and felt as if Saysa and his stepfather were spoofing him, he playing along then asked as what the Chief did to help the great Doctor to learn and gain such appreciation. To what his Stepfather said, Sandy scowled at him, hearing his father image tell of becoming a Gorilla, and learning what it is like being an animal. As from his personal experience he warned Sandy not to ignore his wishes, as to expect the Chief to work his brand of law and sentencing to degrade him!
Further threatening of Sandy, his stepfather, the scientist informed his stepson of his holding a low importance compared to his plans of gaining a full knowledge of what the enzymes could do, as to enlighten the medical world.
A bloody scream from the youth turned the attention of all there to witnessing the judgment and sentencing. As Sandy sat and eyed through the lens of his camera he watched the youth becoming as damned and doomed, changing, as transforming, he became more like a male goat, similar in size to those that wandered the village.
Saysa spoke about the boy and mentioning again of her friend Fumbe, said she knew of other friends disfavored by her father, became as condemned being bucks, donkeys, or one a Zebra. She told of how they after losing their human bodies, those kept within the village felt the worst humiliation possible, as presented with females in heat, they had to mate while the parents and tribe members watched.
Her father, the tribal chief spoke, ordering all within the sound if his voice to remain as silent. He then turned and with an evil sneer, told the youth of when done with the ritual, he would be then as a goat to breed with goats as his only reason to remain useful and alive. Reminded of his required duties to mate with doe goats in public, for his mother to watch and weep.
There in a grove of trees, they witnessed the youth screaming of fear and pain, but held fast as off the ground by the leather straps. The medicine man danced about tossing more as darker gray powder onto the boy and calling on tribal spirits to carry out the judgment.
Sandy used his camera to see and gain a first-hand view of what the enzyme salve and the powder did to a sweating body. As if the dust entered through the skin pores to cause a real transforming condition.
Obviously scared, the boy screamed bloody murder, pleading as to his innocence, or was until fully doused in the powder, then hung there coughing and gagging. Several minutes passed before he calmed his panic, as if understood his ultimate doom was real and final. He hung there limp, his eyes blinking as he looked at the tribal Medicine Man.
Dancing a jig around his victim, the Medicine Man began the anointing of some liquefied enzyme mixture to the powder coated sweaty body. Whatever he used, it did not run off but seemed to soak into the skin, aiding to the pain and likely to the reconfiguring. As then all saw the boy begin to sprout as grow a dense grayish to black pelt of fur. The patches of fur flourished as spread and soon covered the youth from head to toes, as he again began to panic…, did scream.
Vehement to voice some semblance of his outrage, the changing youth began to struggle with his bindings. As if he were to gain his freedom the changing of his bodily form would not end. Grunting and groaning, he began with great earnest to yank at the straps, only to stop as a wave change and muscle cramps raked the length of his legs. Wailing were his screams from the pains as his feet bones narrowed, lengthening, and what were toes, grew to be cloven hooves.
His legs convulsed and he screamed, occasionally able to beg for mercy, as none was given. The reset snapping sounds of bone joints taunted into new positions was enough to make even the toughened doctor cringe. As human heels became hind hocks, and arms changed in much the same manner, they became as long forelegs, the valiant struggling slowed until it ceased.
Such was the violent trauma of changing species, as obvious to all watching as to the volume of pain endured. The youth hung limp, his partially changed body in the tethered straps, as all saw his belly convulsing, while final skeletal conforming continued, causing a tailbone to protrude a furred spur, soon to grow into being a goaty tail. When all there thought it was a done deal, the youth screamed again, trying to reach his new forelegs and cloven hooves to touch, grasp, as message the nubs of his sprouting horns. As the horns pushed through the bleeding skin, what was then all a goat hung limp, his mind delighted the pains had stopped, felt a sense of satisfaction for being then as is a male goat, his identity retained but held inside the head and body of a common animal.
The chief stood to one side and admired his handiwork, as the tribal elders looked on, the father among the men there watching. All bowed to the dominate authority that ruled and decided to make an example of a human teenage, transformed into the full form of a male goat. He stepped close, the Chief again repeating as reminded the buck of the assigned duties being he was then a goat, and of the need when wishing to mate he would do it before all who lived in the tribal village. Then the Chief loudly announce to all, that the beast be left there to hang as hung until morning.
What at a distance Saysa saw as did Sandy and his stepfather too, was the dirty form of a tortured goat. The teen-youth wiggled his body when feeling the strange sensations from becoming a goat. He jerked his pelvis several times and from it became aroused sexually and bleating, he tried to cry. As with gaining his erection and struggling, the cock began to spit some sort of ejaculation. Four times the young goat thrashed to be free from his bonds, as he was stuck, he stiffened his frame and let go a long yellow stream of urine.
The three of them sat there until dawn, as then Saysa stood up, she walking down into the gully, did join with her girl friends to surround the damned youth, as they began washing the dust and sweat from the furry goat. Very little of the gray dust residue came off, as most had soaked with the liquid used to do the anointing into him. As the Doctor told Sandy, that the Chief said of most so changed they tend to loath the feel of living inside a changed body.
The girls made use of wet cloths to sponge as washed the goat and giving much attention to his enlarged genitals. Having gained such big balls, the new goat bleated as he was fondled, causing his pink and reddish colored penis to rise out of its furry sheath. His was a stout new-goat an erection. The sight of the erection made the girls to giggle, except for Saysa. As one of the girls then pushed Saysa away from the new goat, to then the bold girl then took hold the reddish pencil sized penis, and she put it into her mouth, suckling the buck to explode another load.
While watching her seductive suckling, the Doctor explained to Sandy, the ejaculating helps to drain away the remaining human semen, allowing the replenishment in the testicles of goat semen, ultimately aiding him with his required duties when breeding.
When with a pop-snap the decreased body size helped the new goat to drop from out his straps and allowed to stand on all fours. The new goat stood and stared up but not at the girl who had suckled him, he turned and eyed carefully a look at Saysa. As then he stood upright, as fawned on Saysa. Sandy mentioned how Saysa had had the same thing happen with a large buck equal with her in height. The new buck stepped close as Saysa, they pressing each their torso to the other, as she used her hand, did fondle and feel of his furry sheath and the protruding erection. The boy-goat grew a stiffened erection, Sandy notating the girth and length as of the penis, as after having had it suckled, it failed to fully wither, but looked enlarged.
The goat bleated at Saysa, they mesmerized one of the other, as if they knew something more about the other. Being strikingly handsome even when a goat, his fur brushed as curried, he jerked his pelvis and climaxed a full load into her cupped hands. Sandy choked when watching as saw his girlfriend Saysa drink the semen. As if he seemed prepared for accepting his role as a breeder buck goat, he calmly and dropped to stand on all fours, taking a stand, stood then beside Saysa, as if from their relating he gained some inner sense of pride.
Sandy spoke of his being dumbfounded after having seen a human be changed into the physical embodiment of a male goat. He felt shaken for having watched Saysa as she took a rope and noosed it, did slip it over the face as head of the new goat, her friend. She began to walk as push past the other girls there, leading her friend then a goat, showing him some consideration of care before he would mingle with the goat herd and lose most of his memories of being ever human.
The radio operator there in Africa then stopped sending and our story telling conversation ceased, and all contact broken. That was the last time we conversed or ever did I hear from or get a letter from my friend Sandy. I tried contacting his mother and she referred me to his stepfather, but neither would offer me a suggestion of where Sandy had vanished, or lived. The story Sandy told seemed more like a fantasy than anything of reality did! In haste of heated desire to find my friend I spoke with and almost threatened Doctor Chapman, asserting I would turn next to the legal authorities to request information on what became of Sandy.
I waited two weeks more and was ready to begin the legal process when a brown paper envelope arrived to my home in the snail mail. It was addressed to me but without a return address. I tore it open to find inside a photo and a short hand written memo from Mrs. Chapman, she wanting me to know the truth as of the whereabouts Sandy. As in her words her son was used as barter, damned and doomed to reside in Africa. The photo, an 8x10 glossy print showed a scene in Africa of a stallion Zebra standing as being immodest, sporting his full-length of penis in a flaccid state of an erection.
After eying closely the photo and with a smirked grin, from having known Sandy and joined him in role playing I knew if his being for real were the stallion Zebra he had entered his favorite portion of heaven. A silly fantasy and his obsession, he would if could it happen said to me he was willing to give away everything if for to become as live his life being a stallion and stud. The reverse side to the photo had a fancy quill style writing, signed by the tribal Chief, he having sent the photo, wished to inform the Doctor and his misses as to their son was doing well. From what he wrote it did appear to me and from what I knew of Sandy, he seemingly was enjoying his lifestyle there on Serengeti plain.
I felt then a welling up in me of emotion as saddened and somewhat jealous of my friend!
I sat and stared at the photo, scanning it into my computer, as enhancing the image, the brightness, gaining a fuller look at what Sandy had as his equine size maleness. Its length, girth, the morbid shaped head, any noting of his circumcision gone, he had such huge balls, as they making his sexuality something so arousing to an bystander like me!
Foolishly, I tried to contact Mrs. Chapman to say a thank you for letting me know and learn what happened to Sandy. I wrote and sent to her a letter as well asking her if the miracle was a real of Sandy becoming a Zebra stallion. I made mention of Sandy, Bob, friend George and I would have role play sessions, and transformations often became a part of the plots.
One afternoon, it a Sunday, I was lounging at home; my parents were away on another of their highly publicized religious sabbaticals to Japan, as who then should I see come walking boldly across our lawn property but himself, the famous Doctor Chapman. He waved a hand as if approaching with a friendly intent, as said he wished wanted to converse. He said too of his having learned from his wife that she sent me the photo as if such were reality, or could have happened to her son, and my good friend.
He sat down in a lawn chair and began his singular manner of conversing. I laid there relaxed until stunned to hear the Doctor state that Sandy had returned to America, though by necessity required to reside more or less permanently at the Milwaukee zoo. The granted transferring of Sandy as authorized by the tribal Chief he did for two reasons. First and foremost was an increase in his percentage of the royalties awarded from the sale and use of the Nunji healing serums. The second and lesser reason was because of his wife writing to the Chief and offering a motherly appeal for his life free from living among vicious predators.
Stunned a second time when the Doctor said as offered me I could visit Sandy or if from what my friend Bob said as told, I might enjoy becoming a Zebra too!
He said as friend Bob felt duty bound to tell all of what he knew about the youth judged to become then a goat, and of Saysa, she returned to being a doe goat after Sandy had fornicated with her, causing the need of the dooming of her and him.
Realizing there was a growing underlying plan beginning to eliminate of those who knew too much about where and as how the Nunji serums came into common medical use. As of the knowledge to the trade using Sandy as bait, he in reality became then an animal, a Zebra, and pet of the tribal Chief.
Accordingly, the Doctor said if I wished to learn more to come to the university laboratory on an appointment of my choosing. As then and there he offered me my chance to experience the full affects of the Nunji enzyme salve and gray dust. An allowing of me then to become as is a Zebra and reside as friend inside the zoo reserve for two weeks of fun frolic with Sandy and the other zebras.
The offer seemed more a joke to me, as transformation was a fantasy dream and not a reality. As the infamous Doctor stood up from sitting in the chair, when then I asked, as dropped a proverbial bomb, wondering then from what the good doctor reiterated as of friend Bob feeling dutifully telling all, then what happened to Bob?
That said as I dared questioning the character of the Doctor and his scheme, he returned to sitting in his lawn chair and with a sigh, he began to explain an unbelievable truth.
Friend Bob knew what I knew about the doctor and what happened there in Africa. As from hearing the famous doctor, enlighten Bob a student as of his dealings with the tribal Chief. He told his reasoning why then the trade of a foolish stepson for gaining of a learned understanding of new miracle drugs, such knowledge had its dangers. He asked Bob about roles played, and of what he had as his preferred fun fantasy sort of transforming.
Before a similarly stunned friend could answer the doctor said he withdrew from his jacket coat pocket a syringe filled with phase one serum. He injected it into the arm of Bob, as through his shirtsleeve, not giving him time to move or plead.
Informed then was Bob of his necessity to go with the doctor to the university laboratory, as to wait would cause great pain and a quite horrible manner of dying. Bob went with the doctor, as begging for an antidote, the doctor said there was none ever produced. When at the laboratory and Bob injected again but with a truth-inducing drug, he then questioned, informed the doctor of what made getting rid of a witness as much easier.
Bob had a passion for cows, but of him being the herd-sire bull and able as willing to keep calves dropping! His by-far favorite breed being that of the Black Angus, he being of African-American decent held true to his remaining black even when, as were role playing his fun fantasy. He made it easy for the Doc to get rid of an unwanted witness to his treasonous family treachery. The Doc expressing his personal satisfaction with a smirk as he boldly informed of Bob becoming since as an Angus breed bull, remained black, and consigned permanently to residing at the university agriculture farm, he assigned as the herd sire.
I sat up but was mesmerized by the thought of Bob gaining his greatest fun fantasy when the Doctor leaned close as if I thought he wanted to whisper to me something. Instead and to my horror, he slamming a syringe into my shoulder and injecting into me what he said was the same phase one dose of his transforming serum. That bit of skullduggery completed, the vicious man sat back into his lawn chair and looking at me he gloated!
He said I had but one solar day to consider before I contact him if I was willing to let him make of me a male Zebra, and sell me then to the zoo. He warned me not to wait too long, or he, the doctor-scientist would make use of me in an experiment, becoming then as whatever was my best service to science.
Feeling threatened, I wrote a fast good bye letter to my parents. What I told them was of a sudden offer for me to move away, as to another state, working in the business of animal-husbandry where I knew I could help make a real difference.
Leaving the note left on the kitchen table, the house and my car keys there too, I forgot everything I owned as soon the doctor and his life changing serum would make me cease to have any need for human frills.
I walked the three miles or so to the university and the science laboratory where I met again with Doctor Chapman. As forced to act as willingly a partner in the witness imprisonment planned program, my personal preference was to join Sandy and live with him at the zoo preserve, being as friends. I was too trusting of the Doc, as he could not have cared less as what were my wishes, to him I was as scientific fodder, and soon becoming a commodity for sale.
When I walked inside the laboratory experiment room number six, I never expected my receiving a face covering slap of a cotton pad soaked with ether, from which I blacked out.
When I revived, the Doc had me lying spread eagle, naked, and bound to the coldest as hard a stainless steel autopsy pan-styled table. My body he had already slopped with a stinking sticky salve, as when Doctor Chapman noted I was awake, he calmly told me that the sticky stuff was the topical dressing to begin the changing of my species.
I think that most people finding themselves in such a situation might begin to cuss or demand their release. As for myself I think along a logical progressive attitude, as yelling or demanding of anything was senseless. Considering of where I laid there helpless and /or keeping the Doc thinking kindly of me was in my better interest.
I was trying to keep an open mind of a fun fantasy, though the likelihood of what he was busily doing to me would last but two weeks was highly unlikely. If divine providence seemed undeniable from where I laid, being smeared and awaiting some final injection or something, I thought to ask if he really would be so considerate and just give me to the zoo, if just to live beside my friend Sandy.
His reply came with a rather Frankenstein style of a chuckle before he turned and faced me, having a large syringe held in each of his hands.
The common market, the doc said held his attention, and the wasting of a sound body of flesh could profit a greater value than that of a Zebra. Similar then was my situation to that of what the Doc did to my friend Bob. As did Bob become a much more commonplace breed of animal, the sudden offer of a Zebra stallion to the zoo managers would start some probing questions as to the origin of the animal being… donated.
His plan for me was of similar equine ideas with the slight change of me not becoming a Zebra, but a handsome pony. The Doc had checked the local Craig sales listing and found as answered the inquiry, offering a wealthy man wishing to purchase a medium size pony for his young daughter to learn equestrian jumping.
A timely phone call turned the attention from me to answering the in coming call, as I being well smeared felt the ropes holding my wrists were beginning to slip.
Some minutes later the Doc returned but had only one syringe in hand. He summarily took a firm hold to my bare testicles and injected into each a half volume, of what the syringe held. To say it hurt is not enough, as after the injection I thought my balls were on fire. As just then a second phone call and an intercom communication distracted the Doc, allowing me time to slip the binding ropes from off my hands. As I sat up then on the steel table, I kept a wary watch of the Doc sitting with his back toward me.
Quietly I tugged as slipped the ropes off my ankles and feet, sliding off the table and almost slipped and fell onto the tile floor. Walking with awkward as careful sliding strides across the floor, I took hold the still full syringe and getting close to the Doc, I was behind him, I plunged the syringe into the back of his fat neck.
Needless to say, but the jab of a syringe in the neck while knowing the only other person there in that room was as tied down and supposed to be as helpless, made thee Doc to stand up, to drop his phone and he then cursed!
Give unto others before they stick it to you was my newest motto; as well I said the same to the doc.
He began grabbing at his neck, as coughing until near to choking on his own spit.
I told thanks for the ride but my being as equine property and without my soul was not for the likes of me! I saw all my clothing heaped into a ball and stuffed in a wastebasket, I retrieved them and began to get dressed. I had no time to shower the smeared Nunji slime off my body, I felt it as urgent I leave the Lab and the university grounds with due haste.
When I walked out the Lab door, the Doc was inside the Lab, he lying on the floor, sweaty beading out his face, he hyperventilating, stared at me with a look of hate.
Truly, I said to the poor man, hey there Doc you might get more satisfaction from humping am mare than what little attention you’re forth wife would wish to let you do with her! I had heard of a near marital breaking up between his wife, the true mother to Sandy and him, he the famous doctor with the life saving brew.
I walked along in the warm sunshine feeling the stinging sensation of the Nunji salve, while knowing I needed to bathe soon of expect my body to begin physically morphing. Luckily I met not one person I knew and entering the homestead I quickly tore up my letter left there for the anytime soon unexpected parents.
Tearing off my sweaty shirt and finding my waist having swollen some, my jeans stuck to my legs like a pair of girly designer jeans. Socks too, they came off with greatly stretched difficult, as what I saw having happened told me the showering might be too late.
Hot water and some smelly tea-leaf style of body soap removed about half of the induced saturation of the slime into my skin, as inside my body. Woeful of what I saw having happened to my feet, my toes partially merged, might soon become as one and with a hoof.
As I washed and scrubbed my sticky skin using a bath brush, and working it like I was trying to clean the whitewall tires on dad’s old Lincoln. I rather expected to see my ravished as scrubbed skin being a rosier pinkish tone, but it looked more like I had laid in the sun for ten hours a day for sixty days, I was changing to the color of black!
Oddly feeling famished for food, I walked naked still to the kitchen and began a wild style of devouring anything placed before me. The more I ate, the worse I felt, my guts rumbling as stomach grumbling, as bowels force-jetting of colossal stinking farts.
Soon the kitchen stank worse than a pig sty and I walked to the living room where I sat and finished off an entire box of Cheerios. The oat cereal did more to aid the rampant changes happening to me. High the carbohydrates added to all the mass of varied foods I ingested standing with refrigerator door open, worked a portion of the scientific miracle that Doctor Chapman had planed to make use of me.
I knew that calling the Doc and requesting a dose of an antidote he might never have mixed was a fool waste of what little time I had left to me. I thought to call then George; he living alone in his apartment could come as reside with me to see how far the changes followed the plans set by the Doctor.
I called George at home but he failed to answer. I tried his e-mail service, and again he failed to answer. I called his phone again and let it ring until the answering service kicked in to answer after seventeen continuous rings. His seventeen ringing times tended to deter most of the charity callers and the polling services. As then on the sixteenth ringing of his phone I heard George pick up the receiver and with a slurred few words he asked who was calling.
“You too,” I asked of George, “That Doctor Chapman came to see you and gave you an injection?”
George answered in a slow as muddled worded manner, his lips and mouth being changed, were not fully human of form. Hearing how he replied I asked of him when it got dark and he could come, to come to my house and sit with me, as I was more along than injected.
Come summertime and the sun sets much later than in winter months. It was near to ten in the evening when I heard a hard knuckle wrapping sound at the kitchen service door.
I staggered along as across the floor to the door and stood then upright by holding a hand to the door casing. I opened the door and seeing George, I said to him, “My, if from all of this mess, you look rather sheepish!” My sense of logical humor was not appreciated by George, considering his physical state of affairs. George looked like a 50-50 morph of a man and a well endowed make sheep.
As George staggered up the three steps to get into the house, the kitchen, he grumbling his situation made sounds similar to a sheep bleating. When in my own dehumanized condition I offered a friend some help, he jerked his head and mouth as if meaning to bite the hand of a friend.
“Aw…, baa, ah…, ouu…!” George said with slurred words, the tone and cocking of his head gave aid to understanding what he said.
“You like what is the new me!” I said, as George reached a blackened hand to cup up and suggest to the heft of his sheepish big balls, as to compare how mine had changed and conformed to the serum.
In the manner to what George looked like a male sheep, being a Ram from the waist and up, encompassing his head and giving him a pair of horns, I was as much looking like a pony stallion from the navel and down to my hind legs with one toe hoofs.
Whatever the real reason for the odd occurrence, I think the pervasive odors we radiated into the air, but we then each became aroused and feeling horny. As I watched the morbid form of a sheep penis rise from the belly sheath on George, He watched as I sprouted a blackened as much an elongated and quite uncircumcised a pony shaped penis.
The many hours since my escaping a full form animalistic style of doom, my body continued to conform, as I looked like an escapee from Pleasure Island amusement park.
George too, his penis was not near as girthed as mine, if similar of contours, the head of mine being blunt where his had a narrowing shape. I hefted up my pony sized balls, as George leaned forward to surprise me, he mouthing my cock-head into his maw, began then sucking.
He surprised me, as I tried to step back as pull my cock out of the mouth of George, he then crunched down his jaw, making the fit tighter, his teeth coming to bear down harshly. “Hey no,” I remember yelling at George, hopeful he was not so spiteful of me that he would bite the end off my glorious big cock.
Minutes of harshly hard sucking and I felt my balls rise to the occasion, spewing out a wealth of semen inside the mouth of my usually rather sheepish a friend. Bad pun I know, but George was ever so reserved about speaking his ideals. As another thing, I know he was a virgin when he mouthed my cock-head. He was not gay either, just very modest and kept to himself when not having fun doing role plays.
After George pushed my cock from out his mouth using his black tongue, he stood boldly offering to me his cock for me to suck him to climax. I eyed it closely and the thought of oral sex failed to appeal to my more moral upbringing. I pushed his cock away as he took the act as a devote insult and began to bleat wildly.
I felt a fear for my life as friend George stomped toward me, his cock waving in the air, his scent driving my nose crazy and my own erection to re-stiffen.
“Stop then George, we need to think about what we are doing or this situation will eat us alive!” I said, I remember saying to my friend.
George began to throttle his erect cock, and stroking it a couple long drawn moves had him dancing a jig. Joggling his huge balls and stroking his highly sensuous shaft did what he desired and caused a steam of cum and semen to shoot out his cock and across the living room. The semen splattered across the keyboard to my mother’s prized possession, a Steinway grand piano.
I sniffed the scent of his ejaculating and my balls erupted a second time sending a spewed spray of semen toward as at, plastering my load all over a plant-stand and the flowering plant. George bleating sounded like he was laughing as I began laughing, we continued jerking off, spewing the room with load after stinking sticky boy animal juices.
Somewhere about dawn I stopped and held a moral thought. I looked around the soiled as stinking living room and tried to sigh, my throat emitting the sound of a stifled whinny. As I walked with long strided steps to the front hallway foyer, then cautiously peered into the mirror there.
Six plus hours of nearly continuous climaxing ejaculating did what the Doctor had as planned, well mostly! I stood there gawking at the head as my face being that of a dark brown colored pony. My neck was longer, my shoulders having narrowed, as my torso was the barrel of an equine. I saw thighs being a hind flanks, my rump huge, and a tail swishing side to side, as with each adding more to my eager anticipation of living my life being a stallion.
I stood on all fours, on four legs, four hoofs, as my entire essence of physical form was that of a tall pony, seemingly perfect to the wishes of a father for his equestrian daughter.
“Baa…!” George standing on his human feet and legs had remained nearly the same as when he walked inside the kitchen. He knelt down and calmly began messaging my sheath, and to be truthful, it felt so very nice.
As I was being messaged where I could not reach or touch, I stood then flicking my silky mane, my tail, and learning how to shiver patches of my skin.
I gained a wonderful feeling erection, to which George traced his index finger along the length as granting me a better knowledge of the sensations it would give when I began breeding. I stopped my play when thinking about living permanently in the form of a pony and stallion. George noted my sudden sense of feeling the terror, as he spoke, his voice having cleared, was not as slurred, able to convey easier what he wished known.
When then the house phone rang, George got up from kneeling and walked to the table, picked up the receiver, and in clear verbal annunciated English he spoke, as said I was there, the transforming completing, felt willing to begin my life being a pony!
As not long after the phone call did Doctor Chapman arrive and seeing me sporting still a bold erect pony penis, he praised me for doing what was best for him and his medical practice.
He rewarded George with what he said was an antidote injection, as told him he could return home and watch his body regenerate.
When George was gone from the house, the Doc turned tome and said, well he reiterated his anger for what I caused his body to conform to being in part equine. Although from what I could see of him, nothing visible appeared in any way as equine, so therefore his changes lay beneath his clothing.
The rank semen stench there in the living room was enough for me in my ponified form to maintain my cock at full state of an erection. As the Doc checked me for any remaining outward signs of ever being human, I noted his dress pants front bulging, and his shirt tenting along the length of where it was buttoned.
Ultimately, I was shoed and sold to a nice man and a most loving as pony-appreciating owner, his daughter. I was the truer me still inside my head, though the instincts prevailing equine existence did much to force me to act as react like a pony stallion. I was worked by day and given to stand for long monotonous hours in a stable stall, my head hanging out past the Dutch door to look around. Time spent working my throat, my larynx, learning how to speak similar to being a ventriloquist.
My young owner leased her stallion to be a stud, as to breed mares at a nearby farm. I did as my sexual drive and the ruling instincts demanded of me, though I must admit it was enjoyable after the first romp with a real mare. I danced to the breeding sessions, and pranced then back to my stall, my cock flaccid as long, leaking cum and making Jennifer, my owner as embarrassed.
When Jennifer verbally reprimanded me for my bold as sexual showing of self as cock to all after a breeding session, she almost fainted when her prize winning pony spoke and defended his beastly actions. Since then she and I talk by the hours, as she thinks of me as being an equine version of an Albert Einstein. I think its best she does not know too much about me or of the Nunji travesty. Although, she being so loving a personality, to have her as a mare and me her stallion, would be a marriage made divine from down low rather than of high above!
If you are interested in learning first-hand more about the Nunji serums, I remember the direct laboratory phone number; you could speak directly to Doctor Chapman!