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Disclaimer: The New Found universe belongs to Von Krieger. All credit for the core concept goes to them. Please consider supporting them by reading and sharing their original content and/or commissioning a story from them.

Note: this story is an offshoot of the story New Found Fillies. You don't need to read that one first, but I'd suggest doing so since it will (hopefully) set the scene (in)appropriately.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my first submission here on this site! Constructive comments are appreciated. If the interest is decent, this might turn into a short series (2-3 total stories).

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Officer Sara Jones kept her eyes locked on the road as the battered old Stallion SUV swung back onto the empty highway, the four occupants inside the police vehicle swaying as the vehicle returned to driving in a straight line. The two-lane road which cut down through the heart of the valley was seldom used now that the interstate which ran between the larger cities in the northern part of the state had been completed. Travelers with little time no longer found their way through town on their way out to the coast and back. Twilight was fast approaching as the road ahead dropped down into the depths between the green hills. The afternoon sun struggled to illuminate the surrounding brush, and Sara almost reached down to flip on the headlights.

A cough from the backseat distracted her, however, but rather than acknowledge the sound and the person who made it, she instead stared even more intently at the black asphalt. She was determined not to even glance in the rear view mirror at her passengers, or even over to her K9 partner Max, a german shepherd.

Shallow County had a land area of 450 miles, but well under a hundred people per square mile, most of whom could be found around Shelton, the county seat. The name basically said it all: there wasn't much to say about its various features, besides the fact that anyone could lose themselves in the winding roads and trails that criscrossed the various hamlets that peppered the land. Out here in the woods, miles between any homes and businesses, the population was almost nonexistant. The lack of people had led to a rise in illegal activities - with few witnesses it wasn't hard to find poppy fields and meth labs nestled in groves between farms. Last year one of the largest busts in county history had brought down a local farmer, and he only got caught because the pilot coming in for a landing at his private airstrip was transmitting on the wrong frequency. Even then it was a miracle that the ancient equipment provided by the county's miniscule police force was able to pick up the radio signal in the first place. Hell, the first step to using the radio in Sara's Stallion was to crossing one's fingers.

Again one of the passengers coughed, this time not so subtly. Sara gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles whitening under the pressure. She was a young woman, just now approaching middle age, though slight wrinkles around her eyes and on her forehead made her look older even if her dark brown hair had so far not adopted so much as a single grey strand. Still, her uniform only barely concealed the fact that she had kept herself fit for duty as an officer of the law, and there were more than a few men in town who risked a second look every time she passed them by. A blend of good genetics, careful living, and regular exercise gave her a well-toned figure that any woman could be proud of, even if she didn't care to date in the rather limited pool of eligible bachelors in Shelton.

Sara had served the Shallow County Police Department for the past five years since returning from an uneventful deployment overseas, and the tough work had given her a steely look and a stern demeanor. As a result she had little tolerance for lawbreakers. On a larger police force that combination would have added up to a series of rapid promotions, but here in Shallow County where she was the only member of the squad with a different last name from the sheriff's it had merely let her continue to draw a paycheck. That meager amount, deposited twice a month into her bank account, didn't make her particularly friendly toward the suspects currently in her charge.

It had been a long day before she had made the arrest, and her uniform hung loosely from her trim frame. Even with the window wide open sweat beaded on her brow, her collarbone, and the backs of her hands. Her heavy utility belt rubbed against her waist with every bump in the road suffered by the Stallion's suspension, and her head throbbed from a combination of weariness and lack of caffeine. An empty coffee mug, a reminder of the one vice she allowed herself, rolled around the floor below the front passenger seat where Max, true to his training, ignored it.

As another minute ticked past, the source of the coughs in the backseat gave up that method of attention grabbing. From directly behind Sara a feminine voice spoke, calmly but firmly. “Would you roll down the window back here?" The voice belonged to Mandy Black, and she used it just as she always had - to try and get her way. Mandy's tone was almost serene, as if she wanted Sara to think she was completely subdued. Unfortunately she couldn't quite conceal the slight edge underneath that chilled the careful listener - Sara could still pick out Mandy's self-serving insincerity, and it gave her just a twinge of satisfaction to know she was on her way to get what was coming to her.

For a moment Sara ignored Mandy's request, until she realized that she would just ask again and again, until she got a response. “Department regulations prevent me from lowering the window while a suspect is held in the vehicle," she responded without taking her eyes from the road.

“It's hot back here. I'm uncomfortable. Turn on the air?" Mandy's voice remained firm; she was making a statement, though she dressed it as a question.

“The AC doesn't work, and it's hotter outside than it is in here. You just gotta deal with it." In the seat next to her Max sniffed idly at the cracked window next to him. Sara felt far more sympathy for him than for either of the two in the back seat. He was the one K9 officer on the force, and the one partner who could keep up with her work ethic. Together they'd brought more criminals to justice this year than the rest of the force combined. Max was like her - a true professional on the job. Even now he barely panted in the heat of the afternoon, though she knew his heavy coat of fur must be keeping him hot. Sara would have sworn that, like her, he'd never let himself show any sign of weakness to the citizens of Shallow County.

A soft, almost imperceptible grunt was the only sign from the backseat that Mandy was displeased with the outcome of the conversation; another small victory for Sara. She had a special distaste for Mandy. Two years older than her and constantly in trouble with the law, Mandy should have been locked up long before this, but relatives higher up in the county government always rescued her at the last minute, though that might be change after today. Sara had been working this case for weeks, gathering evidence carefully and without telling anyone else in the department about her actions. When she'd shown up at the trailer just an hour ago she knew exactly who and what she'd find. The 'who' in that equation gave Sara a moment of pause, and her brow furrowed slightly. It was the only sign of emotion her face had yet betrayed.

Mandy leaned forward, her mouth only inches from the thick metal grating that separated the front and back seats. The sound of her voice found its way too easily into Sara's ears, “If you won't do it for me, then will you do it for Jim? He's having a hard time back here." For a second, Mandy's voice seemed to soften as she spoke, but as she leaned back Sara glanced into the rear view mirror and noted the cold lines of Mandy's face, saw how even as she spoke she never looked at her brother, but instead gazed intently back at Sara's eyes in the mirror.

James Black - Jim to his friends - had been in Sara's grade in school. They'd never been close; even in the small town of Shelton they were little more than acquaintences. He had hung out mostly with the jocks he met on the football team, she, on the other hand, had kept mostly to herself and her small group of friends. The one thing they had in common was that both had wanted nothing more than to get away from Shallow County and see the world: she vaguely remembered James giving a presentation in class about his goal of becoming a famous coach after a successful career in the big leagues. He could have done it, too. Even as a high school student he'd drawn attention from professional teams who knew that, in another three or four years, he was bound to be a first round draft pick. Of course, it had now been about ten years since any talk like that had followed James around town. Now folks mostly looked at him as just another victim in the wake of his sister Mandy's own self-destructive path.

Then there was Sara, the perfect stereotype of the small town girl aching for a chance to get away. She'd grown up in Shelton and never saw much of the world outside except for what she tuned in on TV and read about in books. It wasn't until after graduation that she left the state for the first time, though it wasn't for a lack of trying. As far back as middle school she had already decided to join the military and thus get out as soon as she could, and she held onto that goal all the way through high school. She'd followed through with her plans and joined the navy the day after she got her diploma. Two weeks later she was on her way to training and, from that point forward, barely saw home until her father's death five years ago brought her back to settle his affairs. She hadn't intended to stay, but seeing the crime wave sweeping through the area drew her into the police department, and for a while it seemed like things were looking up. Lately however it had seemed like a losing battle in spite of the arrests she and Max had been making to try and bring some sense of order back to the town of Shelton.

Sara looked into the mirror once more, this time turning her gaze to James where he sat on the passenger side of the back seat. He was hunched over, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, and he was sweating heavily and shaking - no, trembling. Even though she knew the man she observed was James Black, it was hard to reconcile the picture of a broken soul she saw in the mirror with the fresh-faced, energetic, and willful football player she'd once known. Friends in town had filled in bits and pieces of his story over the past few years. James had gone to the state university on a football scholarship and started off strong. Up until Thanksgiving break things went well: he was getting serious playtime as a freshman and had been mentioned a few times on national news broadcasts.

That's how it was, anyway, up until he came home for his first holiday from school. The mayor had wanted to throw a parade, the high school wanted him to speak to the students, and his sister wanted to party like she always did. On Thursday night, after the big meal was over, Mandy had taken her little brother out with some friends. James was leaving the next morning so he could play in the big game against their out of state rivals, but that night he got his first taste of meth. When he staggered into the locker room that Friday, three hours late for practice before the game the next day, the coaches immediately knew something was wrong. He was benched before he even made it onto the field, and after a drug test revealed his activities he'd been permanently banned from the team. No other school would touch him, and without the support of his coaches James was done with college before winter break even started. He came back to Shallow County and, over the next decade, slowly declined until today, when Sara and Max busted him and his sister cooking a fresh batch of crystal in a trailer twenty-five miles deep in the valley outside town.

Sara grimaced at the man in the back seat, and with a flick of her finger lowered Max's window a little more. Hopefully some of the air would make it back to James; it was going to be a long drive.

Ahead of them on the road a lumbering motorhome with out of state plates plodded along, marking a slow but steady pace in the dusk of the late afternoon. Pulling up behind it Sara paused for a moment, not sure if it was worth the risk of passing on this winding road or if she should just wait it out and deal with it. One more glance in the mirror at James and she made her decision: seeing him like this just reminded her of the fact that, for all her goals and ambition she too had wound up back home in Shelton, just like he had. She pulled the wheel to the left and the Stallion shifted into the empty lane for oncoming traffic. As she accelerated and started to pass the RV she caught a glimpse of movement in one of the windows near the back. Time seemed to slow down as the window slid back horizontally. A brown and white arm, hairy and with black nails, pushed what looked like a giant red water balloon onto the sill of the window. Heavy, it sagged down over the side of the RV as the liquid inside quivered with the movement of the land yacht. More and more of the balloon seemed to pour out of the window and, just when it seemed about to fall, the arm that had opened the window appeared again, now holding the tied-off nozzle and hefting the whole thing aloft.

Sara wasn't certain, but it seemed to her that the body attached to the arm was vaguely animalistic, perhaps even equine, but her vision was obscured by the massive balloon and the tiny space it left in the window. Before she had a chance to get a closer look, however, the arm wrenched the crimson balloon up and away from the RV and released it into the air. Briefly it arced upward before quickly falling prey to the inevitable force of gravity. The person in the RV should have been proud to know that their plan was going exactly as they intended - they must have done this before. The last thing Sara saw before the impact was what appeared to be a fist-pumping horse in the now empty window of the RV as the balloon hit the windshield, the red rubber surface bursting instanlty into a sea of white.

That no one was injured was nothing short of a miracle. Whatever was in the balloon, there was one thing was for certain - it wasn't water. The thick, white substance exploded over the glass as Sara slammed on the brakes. Max fell into the floor well of the SUV while in the backseat James and Mandy both smacked up against the grating despite being buckled in. Sara herself barely missed smacking the steering wheel with her forehead, being saved only by the combination of her seatbelt and her above-average upper body strength - one of the benefits of a life spent serving first her country and now her hometown. The Stallion itself skidded to a halt in the dusty ditch on the wrong side of the road. The brakes smoked while the engine rumbled its seeming discontent, but otherwise the SUV was alright. The white substance on the windshield, rather than run down the side of the car, seemed to defy physics as it remained stuck where it had landed. Sara flipped on the wipers, but after a few ineffectual sweeps they ceased to move, the ancient motor which drove them worn out from the effort. Inside the vehicle a stream of curses found their way out through the open front windows until they cut off at the same time as the engine.

Collecting herself, Sara opened the door and stepped down to the ground. In one hand she carried a roll of paper towels normally reserved for cleaning dog slobber off the window, while with the other she tried in vain to wipe the gunk which had made it through the cracked window and onto her left shoulder and arm. After a moment she threw a few soiled paper towels to the ground in disgust, and turned to the SUV to survey the situation. Compared to the size of the massive old police cruiser she was relatively tiny, and after checking the front of the car carefully she realized this was going to take more than just her own effort to clean off the windshield. The thick fluid was everywhere - the glass, hood, roof, side mirrors, and more were all covered in the stuff. What's more, Sara's left arm was starting to tingle slightly, and for a moment she wondered if she was having an allergic reaction to whatever it was.

Cursing herself for not making a note of the RV's license plate number, she marched around to the other side of the car, withdrew a set of handcuff keys from her pocket, and yanked open the rear passenger side door. Firmly she withdrew James from the cruiser: he was still reeling from the knock on the head a moment earlier, but he seemed to be quickly returning to what had been normal for him for the past decade: slightly bent over, his skin stretched tight over what was formerly a muscular build, and tremors causing his hands and sometimes his entire body to shake uncontrollably. From inside the car Mandy opened her mouth to speak, but a stony look from Sara silenced her, and the slam of the door ended the non-conversation abruptly. Without a word, Sara shoved the roll of paper towels into James' left hand, then grasped his right wrist firmly and deftly unlocked the handcuff which encircled it. Any thought that he was being freed was quickly erased from his mind, however, when she immediately clapped the open cuff around the metal arm of the passenger side rear view mirror in a smooth, decisive motion.

From his point of view, James had no idea what had happened. It seemed to him that in less than an instant he had been struck on the head, hauled from the back of the car, and now as his vision adjusted to the fading light of dusk he found himself locked to the side mirror of the cruiser and holding a roll of paper towels. Looking up from the towels, he saw Sara staring him down. He remembered she'd always had a stern look about her, even back in high school when her glances kept him away instead of drawing him in like so many other girls did. His forehead throbbed, his mind reeled from the shock, and he shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He had no idea why now, in his present situation, the only thing on his mind were the dates he never had with Sara when they were both younger. Before he could form any words, Sara spoke.

“Get busy cleaning off the windshield. I don't want to lose more than five minutes to this mess." James looked at Sara. She was clearly pissed off, and the thick white goo dripping down her left shoulder probably made it worse. Gingerly he offered her a paper towel, and she snatched it from his grip before shoving him around and pointing over his shoulder at the front of the SUV. As he tore off another paper towel and started to wipe the substance from the glass she went back around to the driver's side and got back in.

James listened to what was going on inside the SUV: first he heard what sounded like Sara speaking something into the radio, followed by a pause. Then she repeated herself, this time more loudly. Did he detect a hint of desperation in her voice? Finally, when no other sound came from the radio, he heard the distinct thud of either the transmitter being tossed down in frustration, Sara beating the dash with her fists, or both. The door opened and Sara got out again, shutting the door behind her. Rubbing the paper towel up and down her arm she looked at him, shook her head, and then walked off to the edge of the woods. Looking back to his task James saw through the side window that the german shepherd had hopped back up on the front seat and was now licking some of the white stuff that dripped down into the still-cracked window. At least he was helping out with the cleanup. From the back seat Mandy caught his eye.

“Jim! Don't be in a rush, buddy, we don't need to get back to town anytime soon. Not like you got a date!" She threw back her head and laughed loudly at this. The dog, hearing her, turned around and growled menacingly, and Mandy kicked the metal grate in retaliation.

It was a tough choice. The faster he worked, the sooner he'd be sitting in a jail cell. But if he took his time, he'd be forced to endure the company of his sister for as long as it took them to get back to town. With that thought in mind, James focused on the task at hand.

Even if he wanted to do this fast he doubted if he could. The white substance was thick and sticky, and instead of being cleared away by his efforts it just seemed to spread around the glass. Each paper towel quickly became saturated, and soon he tossed them aside in order to try a new tactic. Cupping his free hand, he pressed it against the windshield and drew a large amount of the substance toward him. Reaching the edge, he swept his hand off the side and flung the mess to the ground. As much as he didn't like helping the law out with this problem, every scoop of the gunk brought him closer to his goal of getting away from Mandy. For the first time in years he seemed to see the world around him with a degree of clarity that had been denied him for too long. His mind seemed almost aglow with thoughts, and his muscles relaxed in his arms as he drew handful after handful of the strange stuff toward him. Even his skin felt better, almost as though static electricity were gently pricking each nerve ending in his hands and forearms, and a sense of calm washed over him. In his dedication to the task he had lost track of his surroundings, right up until the moment he heard the crunch of gravel underfoot on the side of the road which announced Sara's return.

“I'm going as fast as I can, Sara," said James through slightly gritted teeth. A hand on his shoulder, however, turned him slightly away from the cruiser, and he looked directly into Sara Jones' eyes for the first time that day.

“Call me Officer Jones. What happened to the paper towels I gave you?" she asked.

Jim gulped, “Sorry, they're all used up. This stuff is thick - they weren't working anyway." James shook his right hand toward the ground, and a blob of white fell to the ground around his feet. The gooey material seemed to emit warmth, though Sara noticed he had stopped sweating for the moment and his tremors seemed to have died down.

“Oh. Well I don't have any more, so just keep doing what you're doing. There's no radio contact this far from base, so I can't call for backup. And on this road it might be another hour before someone else passes." As she spoke, Sara rubbed her left arm, absentmindedly devoting special attention to the spots where the white substance had landed. The paper towel had gotten most of it off, but some had stuck; she'd need a long shower before she would ever feel clean again. If Sara had been watching closely she would have witnessed the remaining deposits slowly shrinking and being absorbed by her skin. As it was she only barely noticed a slowly radiating heat travelling up her arm.

For his part James turned back to his task. Here in the thick of it he could smell the pungent and pervading scent of the goo. In a strange way it was almost pleasant: equal parts sweet and musky, with a decidedly arousing undertone which reminded him of nights of pleasure nearly forgotten from his brief college days - the scent of victory, celebration, and, oddly, something not unlike the locker room smell after a long practice. Almost subconsciously he brought the next handful of goop up to his nose for a long sniff instead of down off the windshield and to the ground. He inhaled deeply once, twice, a third time. Intoxicated with the odor he closed his eyes and, leaning forward slightly to conceal his actions, extended his tongue and took a taste.

The creamy substance coated his entire tongue before seeming to dissolve in his mouth. The taste was savory, almost salty, but warm and inviting. His mind raced briefly, and visions of parties and girls from the cheerleading squad danced through his memory. He took a quick glance over to where Sara - Officer Jones stood, but she was staring down the road that led to town, ignoring him completely. Returning his attention to his hand, James licked again, this time running his tongue up the length of his index finger. A tablespoon of the stickiness rolled around his mouth before he swallowed it down, and a peculiar warmth began to spread through his abdomen. Instantly hooked, James licked every inch of his hand clean, scooped more up, and then cleaned that off as well in the same fashion. Low moans began to escape from his lips as he filled his belly with handful after handful of the stuff, and soon most of the window in front of him was cleared.

Standing a few feet away, it was a few moments before Sara noticed anything was amiss. Looking off into the distance and trying to see if there was another vehicle in sight, it wasn't until she heard his moans that she turned around to inspect the situation. Looking at James, she watched as he lovingly licked himself clean of the substance before gathering another scoop and repeating the process. “He must have hit his head harder than I thought," she muttered to herself. After a moment spent watching James, she gathered her wits and walked over to him. A firm hand on his shoulder once more turned him from the windshield and brought him to face her. His hand was still at his mouth as he locked eyes with her. This wasn't the thousand yard stare of an addict, she noticed. She'd seen that look countless times and knew what it meant. No, this was something else, something different. James was happy, and as she pressed him against the side of the Stallion he seemed to be in pure bliss.

“Sorry, I guess I got kind of carried away," he said. A broad smile flashed across his face, and for a moment Sara glimpsed the powerful man he once was behind the gaunt features that had for so long obscured his natural gifts.

Sara glanced at the half-clean windshield, smiled lightly and replied “well so long as it gets results."

A look of relief underscored by slight embarrassment replaced Jim's smile, and she watched as his face turned a little red. Just below her waist, Sara felt something between the two of them shift. Startled, she looked down, and what she saw made her gasp in surprise.

James had been so wrapped up in his ministrations performed on the window that he had been ignoring the other events taking place in his body. As Sara looked down and gasped he found himself doing the same. The whole front of his t-shirt and jeans was soaked in thick white goo, but that wasn't what drew the gasp from Sara. No, that was due to her seeing the enormous tent pushing out from his crotch, the denim fabric itself seeming to strain to contain what was pushing out from within.

“James, I think you should stop eating that stuff," said Sara. Her heart beat quicker in her chest, and she stepped back a foot while her right arm continued to rub her left. If she had been paying attention to it, she would have noticed that the hair on her left arm was thickening, while on her right hand the nails were turning a dark maroon color.

“Maybe you're righ-" James winced as he spoke, “you're righ-- right." James winced again and doubled over, his right hand clutching downward over his crotch. “Uhhhhhhhhh," he groaned loudly. For a moment he remained hunched over, and then like a bolt of electricity went through him he stood up straight again, his back rigid. With a sound of rending fabric his pants seemed to explode from the crotch out. From the remains of what had once been a worn pair of jeans and a hopelessly flimsy pair of boxer arose a searingly hot pole of flesh. James' cock, unbelievable in size, jutted proudly from his crotch and stood firm in the early evening air.

Both James and Sara stood agape at his newly reformed organ. James was the first to act: he brought his free hand forth and, with a single finger, prodded the tip. As his touch grazed it he shuddered, and a dribble of white ooze spurted from it. “I felt that," he said, the shock registering in his voice.

Sara looked in amazement at the cock. No human could ever claim ownership of something like this, at least not as far as she knew. It was at least a foot and a half long, with a dark brown, almost black base color which shifted halfway up to a mottled pink. A ring in the middle encircled it, and at the end the tip flattened out. As James breathed heavily, the cock - his cock - lifted up and down. The closer she looked the more entranced she became; Sara swore she could take his pulse just by watching the veins throbbing up his mast.

After a moment James seemed to remember where he was, who he was with, and the situation that had put him in this position. With this in mind he grasped his member around the middle, and tried to shove it down. As he did so a wave of pleasure swept through him, starting where his hand gripped his shaft and rocketing through every inch of his upper body. His cock, wet along its length from the dribbling precum that flowed from the tip, surged in his hand and his hips bucked involuntarily toward Sara.

James' knees nearly buckled underneath him as bolts of rapture greater than any high he had ever known flowed through him, flashing from the end of his cock to his brain, out to the ends of his fingers and toes and back again. At the base of his shaft he felt his balls clenching again and again as the flood of his cum exited through his member, and he watched with a mixture of glee and exasperation as the cop was covered in his juices. After what seemed like a full minute of ejaculation his balls twitched a final time, and Sara was left laying flat in the dirt by the side of the road in a heap.

From her perspective Sara only saw James grab hold of his cock and thrust in her direction. Looking straight at his member, she never had a chance to get out of the way as she stared at the flaring tip. She remembered now the last thing she had seen in the RV before the balloon hit the windshield - the look of sheer pleasure on the horse-thing's face, and she imagined that James' face probably looked the same now, as a series of jets of white cum blasted her first in the face and then over the entire front of her body.

Staggering backward, Sara reached for the front fender of the cruiser to steady herself, but the sticky white goop covering the hood provided no grip for her to slow her fall and she landed flat on her back next to the road. For a moment she remained still, trying to regain the wind which had been knocked out of her. Vaguely she was aware of the fact that her entire front was soaked with cum - James' cum - an amount of seed no creature should have been able to produce. The white, sticky, thick substance was almost steaming with heat, but somehow it wasn't anger that Sara felt in this moment. In fact, of all the emotions that she anticipated, only one broke through the turmoil of her mind to drive her next actions. Her right hand, seemingly on fire, drifted to her face and wiped the cum from her brow to her chin, then brought it deftly to her lips where her tongue extended and lapped it from her palm. If she had opened her eyes she would have seen that the nails on her fingers, already maroon in color, had darkened further to an almost black tone, while her fingers began to fuse together - the index and middle finger becoming one as well as the ring and pinky joining together, leaving her with only three digits on her right. The changes in her hand began to creep up her right arm, and from her wrist to her shoulder she could sense the bones thickening and lengthening while the muscles and tendons grew and stretched to match the new dimensions. On her left side the process was similar, starting with the thickened hair on her forearm sprouting out into what could only be described as a thick coat of horse hair which matched her own hair in color. From there her left hand took the same form as her right, and up her arm the hair continued to spread as the contents beneath her skin shifted and popped into new orientations.

Moans from deep inside at last escaped her mouth as Sara wiped every bit of James' seed from her clothing and brought it up to lick it greedily from her broad fingers. The flavor was salty with a hint of savory goodness, and she was hooked on it in a way she barely understood. Each mouthful seemed to only create a stronger desire for the next one to follow, and as she swallowed more and more of the stuff she began to feel as though it wasn't even making it to her stomach. Instead it seemed to dissolve into her throat and spread through her torso, neck, and even her head.

Watching in sheer disbelief, James was amazed that in spite of the massive load he had sprayed over her, the quantity of cum was quickly gone from Sara's uniform. Her hungry tongue had done most of the work, while the rest had apparently seeped into her skin underneath. For his part, the incredible ejaculation of seed that had issued forth from his balls had left him temporarily dazed, however as Sara's moans reached his ears whatever force had descended upon him began to assert itself once more. His member, momentarily sated, began to extend once more. Below, his balls began to quiver as fluid was pumped from elsewhere into his sack. Slowly, steadily, they began to grow and develop - a sense of potency, of virility almost overwhelmed James as he looked down and noted that what had once been a pair of golf balls was now closer to a set of baseballs. He brought his right arm down to fondle them gently, and saw for the first time that his hand, too, had shifted into a three-digited form with dark nails and hair to match his natural blond head. As his fingers rubbed his tender balls, his hips bucked once more and a jet of precum hit the dirt right next to Sara's head.

The sound of the splatter on the ground seemed to bring Sara around. James watched as her eyes slowly opened, the rich brown irises seeming to be larger than before as they filled almost the entire width of her eyes now. Briefly they struggled to focus until suddenly she sat up straight and locked her gaze on James. In his chest his heart was pounding a frantic beat, and throughout his body it felt as though his blood was boiling through his veins. His cock surged to full attention as her eyes dropped from his face, to his chest, to his stomach, and at last to his groin. His right hand, almost without him noticing it, gripped his shaft tightly and the steady stream of precum which had been dripping out of his urethra was paused. As she stared at him, his cock pulsed and it seemed as though it grew another few inches right before her eyes, but still nothing came out. James smiled as Sara licked her lips with a tongue that was too big for her mouth. “If I wasn't handcuffed to this mirror, I'd come to you, but seeing as that's the case…" James didn't have time to finish his sentence before Sara was on her knees and crawling the few feet between them. Without so much as a grunt or a moan she positioned herself in front of him, her face level with the tip of his cock. Gingerly she brought her hands to the upper half of his shaft above where his one free hand held back his seed, and with a healthy six inches still protruding beyond either of their hands, she slowly licked from the underside of his cock up to the tip.

It had been a long time since James had known the joys of a blowjob. It had been many years since he'd had the wherewithal to do anything with his body besides seek his next high. If anyone had told him that the next person to touch him there and in that way was to be Officer Sara Jones, he would have laughed them off as a lunatic, but here he was and there she was, servicing his cock like a pro. Her lips stretched around the broad tip of the prick that now was aching for release, while her hands slowly worked up and down his shaft, her fingers tracing the pulsing veins that were outlined under the taut skin. Below his own hand he could feel the pressure building, but still he held back for reasons he didn't entirely understand. Sara's efforts were admirable, but James was too big and her mouth was too small for the job. Looking down at her he could sense frustration in her being. Across her shoulders and down her back her body continued to shift and change - her frame broadened, her spine extended, her muscles corded around her frame, and the brown hair spread across every inch of her skin. Her uniform slowly tore itself to shreds as her transformation gave her more and more features of a horse with each passing minute.

But still Sara's face remained mostly human in form. She did her best to please James, to bring him to release, to get more of what her body now craved from him. She lavished the head of his cock with her tongue, took as much of his length into her mouth as she could handle, kissed and suckled at the tip of his member in the vain hope that he would release some of his cum to her. She shook with need, trembled with desire, and at last she looked up at him once more, stared into his eyes through her newly reformed pupils, the deep brown of her irises surrounding the inky blackness of her large pupils, and without so much as a whimper James understood her desire.

With a monumental flex, James snapped the handcuff which bound his left arm to the SUV's side mirror, the metal ring falling away from his wrist to the ground. Sara watched in awe as he brought his now freed hand down to grip the top of her head and hold her in place with her lips still stretched around the tip of his cockhead. Then, without any great ceremony, he released the hold of his right hand from around the middle of his shaft, and she felt his entire body tense as the tip of his member flared in her mouth.

Even if his left hand hadn't been holding her head in place, Sara wouldn't have been able to get away from the deluge of semen that erupted from James' cock, as the sudden bulging growth locked her onto him as pulse after pulse of precum, now freed from its reservoir, burst forth into her mouth, over her tongue, and down her rapidly swallowing throat. The heat of the transformation, which had faded a few moments before to a pleasant glow of warmth, roared into a searing flame of passion as her body resumed its series of alterations. Most immediate was the change in her face: Sara's nose and jaw grew out, making room at last for her tongue to reside comfortably in its home while James' length was drawn further in to her mouth. Her ears elongated and began to migrate upward toward the upper sides of her head, with both twitching wildly as James pumped jet after jet of milky precum into her.

Sara's neck grew longer, while the hair on top of her head darkened and began to extend down the middle of her back in a brilliant mane. The shorter hair, still the original brown, crept up at last to cover the portions of her skin which, until now, had remained untouched.

Below her neck the transformation continued. Her breasts, never more than the B-cups typical of a woman of Sara's formerly slight build, began to swell. Where once there had been two, now a second set appeared below the first, a development that would have been grotesque had her torso not extended as well to accommodate the added delights. Sara's nipples grew soft and wide, their tips extending into teats which, as her expanded chest brushed against James' legs, sent shockwaves of bliss through her body. Lower down, her cunt burned with desire, the muscles of her pussy convulsing independently of her own will and leaking a pungent fluid which, as the scent wafted up to James' nostrils, drove him further into his frenzy of lust.

Her legs as well changed with the rest of her, they grew longer and sturdier, able at last to support the extra weight they were now to be tasked with. Her shoes, the last vestiges of her long-suffering uniform, seemed to self-destruct as her feet were replaced with two broad hooves and her lower joints shifted into an orientation more befitting the equine-human hybrid she was becoming.

And at the base of her spine and the space directly opposite on the front of her body, two final changes were commencing: one immediate and one more gradual. On her backside her tailbone now became an actual tail. The vertebrae of her spine extended down, the flesh of her back covering every inch and followed quickly by a continuation of the black mane from above. On her front, the area of her groin extended down slightly, the folds of her pubic region seeming to deepen. For the first time since she approached him from the ground, Sara removed one of her hands from James' cock and traced her hand down her own front. She felt her soft breasts, tweaked a couple of her nipples, rubbed her belly which was now round from James' seed, and at last brought her three-fingered hand to the mound of her pussy. She spread her knees apart and rubbed her surprisingly deft fingers around the entrance to her pussy, feeling the strangely familiar folds and exploring her renewed sex. Carefully, Sara parted her nether lips, and with great care found her clit. In the instant she touched it, she came harder than she ever had before.

For all of the buildup to this moment, Sara had yet to have a release like this, and now that it struck her it was like the hand of the almighty driving her over the edge. It was all she could do to prevent her hand from spasming and clamping down on the nub of her clit like a scared animal. Instead she channeled the sensations into her fingers and let them dance around her sex in rhythm with her orgasm. After a minute it subsided, and at last she pulled her mouth back from James' cock and shifted her weight away from him.

James had observed all of this from above, watching as her form shifted from the top down - the hair now covering her body, her face pushed out into a muzzle which, to his mind, better fit his cock, the tail sprouting forth from above the divine crack of her ass, and everything else. Somehow inside he understood that what the white substance on the windshield had started, the cum from his balls had finished as he'd pumped what must have been gallons of precum down Sara's throat. As much as he had relished the brilliant flashes of heat and joy each bolt of precum shot from his member had given him, he still felt unfulfilled since his first orgasm has painted her like a picture a few short minutes before. Therefore, when Sara pulled away from him after what he assumed was her own climax, he was momentarily perturbed.

His displeasure was shortlived, however, as he now took in the full image of the being before him. Unsteadily at first, but with surprising agility after just a few unbalanced seconds, Sara climbed to her feet. What now stood before him could only be described as a goddess, one fit for worship in any temple on Earth. Sara stood at least eight feet tall, the definition of perfection as the muscles which rippled under her skin flexed with power as she stretched her limbs for the first time. Her four massive breasts seemed almost to hover in front of him, the lower ones level with his face. Her hands found his shoulders and rested on them, while her thumbs lifted his chin so that he could look up into her deep, nearly hypnotic eyes. A subtle smile graced her lips, and the hand which had explored her cunt just a moment ago was offered to him to smell. His nostrils flared, and his cock surged against Sara's legs. His shaft, now two and a half feet long and hard as a steel pipe, seemed to have a mind of its own as Sara nodded toward the front of the police cruiser. Silently, she went to the front of the car and sat down in the hood. The remains of the cum from the balloon spread around her as she beckoned James to her.

In awe of the indescribable beauty before him, James did as he was told. He slowly made his way to her, and for her part Sara spread her legs to welcome him. Carefully, James lined the head of his cock up with the entrance to Sara's pussy. His still human legs scrambled at the dirt beneath his feet as he struggled to find the strength to push his length into her. It was to his benefit that Sara was patient with him - she placed his hands behind her knees and James, vaguely understanding her meaning, drew himself forward. At last, the head of his cock disappeared into her cunt, and with renewed energy James thrust madly at his goal. Each stroke sent his shaft deeper into her and, just when he thought he'd given all she could take, Sara placed her arms under his rear and drew him up until his cock was hilted in her sex. For a moment they both reveled in the sensation, James getting closer with each passing second to another orgasm, while Sara needed something else.

It wasn't something that Sara needed to take from James this time, but instead something she needed to give. Her new form was willing her to provide to him that which he had provided to her: the means of a complete transformation. As she grasped him beneath his rear and drew her to him, at last taking every inch of his organ into her own, she found his head buried in the soft mounds of her bosom. Gently she caressed his head, and then she grasped one of her lower nipples with one hand and guided his mouth to it with the other. Neither of them spoke as he took her teat between his lips and began to suckle.

A new and unique pleasure flowed from Sara as James drew from her a steady stream of milk. The hand that had guided her breast to his mouth now released it, though her other still pressed his face to her chest. The message was clear: drink. The other hand found its way once more to his backside, and slowly she coaxed him to begin his thrusts in and out of her cunt once more. Her heart in her chest beat an incredible rhythm, and soon his mouth and his thrusts matched it in time. As she watched, his body too began to shift once more, and the changes she had experienced overtook James' body.

After a time, her first breast was drained, and she shifted him to the one beside so that he could continue to feed and grow. His torso lengthened, his feet shifted into hooves, his arms became bulky with bulging muscles. At last his face became elongated: his suckling lips were now a broad muzzle and his frame was too tall for him to draw more milk from her lower breasts. Without prompting, he switched to one of her upper set, and as he did so she felt his cock surge below and push further into her pussy. She responded with a moan, and grasped him now about the waist with her hands and rocked her pelvis in motion with the jabs of his member. Finally his vertebrae at the bottom of his spine dropped down and thick bristles of hair burst forth. At the same time a strange opening formed below his balls and began to grow, slowly developing and beginning to send signals of pleasure mixed with desire to James' overstimulated brain.

With his transformation nearing its end, and with all of her breasts at least temporarily exhausted of their supply of milk, James and Sara accelerated their fucking to a frenzied pace. Each drive of his shaft into her depths was accompanied by a great spurt of precum deep in her womb, while every caress of his hands on her breasts was joined by a miniature orgasm echoing through Sara's brain. Overcome with passion, Sara gripped James' bountiful mane of hair and held him tightly to her powerful frame. James abandoned all sense of rhythm and pounded into her without mercy, his own body now a match for hers in every way. One more time their eyes met, no longer the eyes of a man and a woman but those of two equines, and in that instant they shared an orgasm of indescribable proportions. James' sack, now containing a pair of balls larger than basketballs and swinging pendulously between his legs, emptied gallons of cum deep into Sara's cunt. Her crevice, filled already with his precum, gushed from the combination of his sperm and her own juices. Every muscle in her body turned to jelly, then to iron, and back to jelly as the force of her cumming reduced Sara to near tears of delight. Finally, the force of James' own seed forced his softening cock from Sara's pussy, and he fell to the ground, exhausted, while for her part Sara collapsed back onto the hood of the car.

After several minutes, the afterglow finally subsided for each of them, and James propped himself up against the front bumper of the cruiser while Sara slid down to sit next to him. Embracing each other, they didn't say anything for a short while. It was Sara who spoke first.

“Oh shit James, what do you think is happening with Max and Mandy?!"

...To be continued?