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Disclaimer - This is not a story for those looking for a saccharine jaunt. Instead it's a distinctly naughty visit to a doctor with not a whole lot of give, and yet a huge amount of take. If you don't appreciate physicians being rather forward, you might just want to wait in the lobby for this one. (This is a work of pornographic fiction. Please do not read if it would be illegal for you to do so.)

The Doctor and The Dealer

I'm sorting dragon scales and talons into their proper receptacles when the front door to my clinic flies open, letting in a draft of cold air behind it. Garbo stands there, fingerless gloves grabbing at the lapels of his thick wool long-coat. He doesn't close the door until I point at the entrance accusingly, and he kicks it closed with a sopping boot, leaving a muddy splatter before the heavy oak slams back and the hermetic spell reseals my office, air slowly warming again. Why did I ever give him the permissions to barge in here unannounced?

"Doc," He strides through the office, as he rubs his hands against his sleeves, leaving a trail of grimy boot-prints behind him. "You gotta help me . . ." He stumbles in to stand before my desk as I plink the last few chunks of heavy enamel into their jars and clamp the corks back into place.

"That's exactly what I did last week, Mr. Garbo." I notice his rheumy eyes and quivering knees. "Did you get what I needed?" Usually I don't give second chances, but according to all of my contacts, this man had access to genuine phoenix feathers, feathers which I had promised to the Marnetti family last week. This family of arch mages was not known for their forgiving patience . . .

"Look, I got close. I just need a couple more doses, and I can get it, I promise." He coughed into his curled fist, rolling back on his heels.

I take a few moments to look him over. Last time, I had taken the time to get him off of the Lotus before giving half of his payment in Mandragora. By the looks of it, he had swapped one habit for the other. There were scratch marks on the backs of his fingers, and he seemed completely unable to stand still.

Useless.

"I thought that you were a dealer, Garbo . . . A dealer doesn't sample his own wares." I sit back in my chair and tap a finger against the desk slowly.

"It's just to help me think. I swear." His scratchy voice pauses his incessant banter while he licks his chapped lips. "Look, I know you're giving the stuff to the Marnetti's. They'll fuck you up man. I can get you what you need, but first you have to help a brother out . . ."

"Indeed?" I sigh. He's much too far gone to be of any use . . . this way at least.

"Yeah man. So where's the stuff? Just give me the other half now." He rubs a grubby gloved hand over his stubbly face.

"That wasn't the deal, Mr. Garbo." I weigh my options carefully. The chances of him succeeding at anything seem unlikely. But there are always other ways to turn a dime . . .

"Man, fuck your deal. You need me." He pounds a fist against my desk ineffectually

"Indeed I do . . ." I raise a brow. "Here, come with me." I rise and walk back to my examination room, each side stocked to the brim with shelves of exotic ingredients and tools. I then hold the door open most graciously. "Have a seat." I gesture to the padded examination chair in the middle of the room. It's where he sat last time as we discussed_business_.

"Fine, man. Just hurry up. The faster you get me out of here, the faster I can get you what you need." His filthy fingers squeeze against the arms of the chair. I'll have to make sure to sterilize it later.

Walking around the room, I make a mental inventory of everything that I need. I may have no talent for magic, but with enough of a collection, it's amazing what you can do with the specific application of certain tools and reagents. "That may have been true . . ." When I've decided I have everything I require, I stroll to the wall and rest my palm on the control for the examination chair. Immediately, bands of pulsing azure and orange energy thrum into existence around Garbo's arms and legs, others wrapping around his chest. "At one point in time."

"The fuck!?" He strained against the bindings, barely shaking the chair. It was a good thing I'd invested as much as I had in the contraption. Working with the Marnetti's had its perks. "Let me go, man. You can't get those feathers. I know where I can score some, man. You hurt me, and you're_fucked_!" He screams, spittle flying from his lips.

"If you could have, you most likely would have already done so." I sigh, raising two fingers up as the chair begins to flatten out into a bed. "Sadly, you've worn out your usefulness in that regard." With a gentle twist against the sigils on the wall, the bed starts to turn over. He thrashes as the bands begin to dangle from ethereal chains, hanging his body there like some kind of manic marionette. "But returning to the Marnetti family empty handed is never a good idea, so I'm going to extract what value I can from this situation."

"Fucker!" His wild undulations only make him rock slightly. I slowly slide a finger down to tighten the restraints down until he can barely even do that. "Look, I can get them. Just let me down. Get me what I need, man. I'll be good. I'll get you double." His eyes follow as he watches me measuring out various powders and tinctures into a solution, loading the luminous fizzing results into a hypodermic, and then taking down a finger-sized iridescent crystal shard from the shelf and lying both of them on the rolling table. "Please . . ." He whines.

"You came here for drugs, Garbo. What kind of a doctor would I be to turn away a patient in need?" I pick up the loaded syringe, holding it steady under my thumb as I jab the needle through his blue sackcloth jeans. It's intramuscular, so I hardly need to be precise as I depress the plunger and he shouts at the needle prick of pain followed by what would certainly be a warm tingling sensation.

"Goddammit." The suspended man curses, trying to lash out at me with a foot completely ineffectually. "What the hell was that? I'll kill you, you fucking quack!"

"Although I do favors for a few of the noble families, I assure you, Mr. Garbo, I am no hack." I slap a hand against his thigh, causing his body to seize up as the flesh of his posterior and legs begins to bulge out against his ripping clothing, exposed flesh quickly gaining a dusting of white fur. It would certainly make the process less uncomfortable to have removed his clothing, but his comfort is hardly my first priority at the moment.

"You can't do this. I-I have friends." His body shivers as he shouts, spine tensing as the serum courses through his blood. The sensation must be amazingly acute, his clothes tightening against his thickening skin. The glowing ethereal restraints swell with him, leaving him pedaling in the air as his feet creak out, wretched boots forced off and clattering to the floor as his limbs twist, growing longer as his thighs thicken.

"Highly unlikely. Whoever you were_using to get access to the feathers obviously isn't there for you anymore." As he writhes, I watch his spine begin to creak out, flesh stretching over it as the skin of his anus darkens under his forming tail, pearl-colored wispy hairs beginning to droop from the thrashing length. "And you obviously didn't _sell any of the Mandragora I gave you."

"Look, Doc. I fucked up." His voice was getting gravely as it lowered in pitch. As he spoke, his chest began to barrel out, ribs popping as his coat split open in the back, stretched between his widening arms. "But I'm still useful. I promise, just . . ."

"Yes," I interrupt his wailing. "You still have value, but its going to be quite a bit more difficult to extract it." I run my hand up the bristly fur on his widening flanks, looking back to see his toes clench, ebony keratin engulfing them and forming into a cloven hoof with white fetlocks curling in above them. I grab the shard of falsely charged crystal from the stand, and the small ceramic mallet I use for testing reflexes. "I'm just finding a way to make you useful for a bit longer. Because turning up to the Marnetti family empty handed is a good way to end one's career in medicine." His struggles intensify as I brace the jagged shard against his forehead, between his eyes.

"No. I can change. Please!" He shouts as I give the crystal a solid tap.

His whole body goes stiff as it drives into his flesh, quickly encountering bone and lodging itself there. His words fade for a second as his pupils dilate and his face begins to press out, nose flattening into two slitted huffing equine nostrils. It's not real horn, but it should be close enough for a temporary simulacra. Certainly if the reagents are extracted quickly, the Marnetti's won't be able to tell the difference. "I agree with you completely."

He shakes his neck as it thickens, mane forming in on the back. His ears twitch and begin to fold to the sides angrily as they are overcome by velvety white. He pants, opening his widening mouth. "Younngh gottrrhh . . ." His words trail off into high shuddering neighs, inability to vocalize human sounds obviously just distressing him more as his teeth swell to blocky herbivorous prominence while his lips roll and thicken, skin darkening while snowy velveteen dusts them.

The crystal horn on his head swells along with him, offering his confused morphology an arcane focus as I collect a large silver plated basin and let it clatter to the floor under him. The changes seem to be going as planned, if perhaps slightly slower than I had anticipated. The skeletal and muscular realignment is fascinating to observe. A mage might be able to weave a similar effect on a whim, but the results would be largely superficial. With the sympathetic ingredients I've used though, the transformation should be temporarily quite similar to the real thing . . . Hopefully enough to pass muster. Of course, I'll have to run the tests later . . . But, for now time was of the essence.

With sickening creaks, his arms and shoulders pull into a quadrupedal alignment, limbs stretching and gaining sleek muscular contours as his phalanges fuse and are coated by the quickly growing enamel of his inflexible front hooves. His teeth gnash with a hollow sound as he lunges as if to bite me, a futile move as the restraints have no trouble diffusing his motions into a slow sway. I frown as I look at his glossy undercarriage between his hind legs though. The pheromones I laced into the serum didn't seem to be producing the arousal I thought they would have. Perhaps his emotional agitation had something to do with it . . . Oh well, similar results could always be obtained by manual stimulation.

He twists to try and see behind him, eyes darkening to almost ebony with the whites showing at their corners. I slowly pull on a pair of surgical gloves, letting the white latex snap against my skin before bringing down two separate jars of unguents and setting them onto the gurney I roll behind him. I open them both before coating my covered hands in the slick coolness of the first, simply a veterinary lubricant that I use to assist non-human clients with childbirth, or more intimate concerns. Although it contains no magical properties, it makes it simple for me to press a finger against the dark raised circle of his plump equine anus and slip inside of him.

The restrained patient lets loose a truly horrified whinny, muscles under his haunches clamping down against me while the strands of his tail bat against my face. "That's just going to make this take longer you know? This could be quite a pleasant experience . . ." I tug my digit in a tight circle inside of his rump, stretching out the straining ring of muscle enough to slide another finger into him, eliciting another panicked neigh. Looking between his legs though, the stimulation is producing the intended results. A thick pink skinned shaft is pulsing out of his heavy sheath as his swelling pendulous testes jostle. The bulging flared head extends further, pulsing as his anus contracts in fits around my fingers, squeezing them almost painfully together. Black blotches of pigmentation begin to dapple the length around the medial ridge, slowly fading to a deep black at the base as it reaches its full impressive length, bobbing up against his wide furry chest under him.

Coaxing in firm gentle strokes, I slip two more fingers into his puffy equine anus and then reach under him to stroke the slickness of my palm over the base of his cock. His squeals of terror and indignation give way to a shuddering grunt, his attention moving to the sensation of my fingers grasping at the base of his nearly arm-sized maleness, tugging at the bulging veins as I feel his muscles contract and make it flop up against his stomach, pre already dripping from the flat tip.

His body continues to thicken and grow, muscles bulging as his member throbs and swells in my hand. He wickers and snorts, tail flicking against my shoulder as the glowing bands support him in the air. I reach my left hand down to the jar of untouched pinkish unguent on the table as I tense my other into a fist, slowly straining into his resisting anus as he tries to wrench away from me. My lips curl up in a smile. "I'll get what I want regardless." I press forwards, his straining black ass stretched taut around my white slickened glove as my entire hand sinks into his warm fleshy insides.

It only takes a moment of prodding before I find what I'm looking for, a slightly firm fleshy node on the other side of the colon. His anus contracts powerfully around my forearm and his whinnies go silent for a second as I stimulate his prostate, kneading against it with my fingers. My other hand slides back along his shaft, smearing it with the faintly herbal smelling pink concoction that makes his member quiver and throb in powerful fits, his heavy equine testes contracting as his entire body shivers in need.

In an instant, he's bellowing as he erupts, and I guide his shaft down so that the first splash of ejaculate lands in the middle of the silver bowl, soon followed by others as I mash against his prostate with my palm. His ass wrenches against my arm hard enough to cause discomfort as I smear the length of his equine shaft with the unguent, coating it thoroughly as he continues to climax just as planned. As the light reddish hue seeps into his skin, his massive shaft begins to pull back, contracting sensation drawing him to release far more seed than would be possible normally, the bottom of the bowl now covered in thick glistening pearly white.

He squeals as I rub in harder and harder, overstimulating his genitalia as it begins to shrink back with every pulsing tug. Even as his production flags, I press down harder against the diminishing prominence of his prostate, coaxing out another few lagging jolts of the precious reagent from him, my other hand now easily fitting around his entire shrinking length. As his shaft pulls back, I squeeze and pump until it fits in the palm of my hand, his testes pulled up tight against his body, sinking back into him as he bends his head down and looks between his legs, squealing in terrified outrage as he sees his penis shrink down and pull back, testicles disappearing altogether while his nipples strain down his chest to form a set of thick heavy mare's teats on his belly.

"I'm afraid it would be inefficient to leave you as a male. Although a unicorn stud's seed is a most valuable commodity, a mare's milk is nearly as useful." I wrench my fist from his ass with a slick tug, leaving his anus gaping for a moment before straining closed behind me. My other hand massages his miniscule cock as it pulls back into his sheath, which stretches vertically, edges welling out into the start of an equine labia. "I imagine that the change in genitalia has left you quite sensitive." I slide a finger down his forming cleft, flicking against where his shaft has pulled back to become a prominent twitching clitoris, making his muscles strain against their bindings. "This is good, as a constant state of arousal is a key to affecting milk production."

I slowly tug off the rubber gloves and toss them in the bin, reaching under him and feeling his bristly fur before giving his thickening dark skinned nipples a squeeze, feeling the flesh under them beginning to become soft and pliable as the artificial unicorn wickers in anger as well as new-found pleasure. I feel moistness at the tips of the pointed fleshy nipples, but no signs of lactation. "Of course, pleasure from the changes is fleeting. There are certainly more direct ways to stimulate your new form though . . ."

I walk to the cabinet against the wall and remove a long solid glass cylinder with a slight curve and a thick rounded bulb near one side. I also fish out the old collection of tubes connected to a metal tank, wrestling with the apparatus and moving the partially filled silver basin aside with my foot so that I can slide it underneath my subject's changing body. He's almost the proper size now, no visible traces of his humanity left, even though his struggles and vocalizations don't seem completely proper for an animal. That's fine though, as all I need is for the products of the transformation to be close enough for the mages to foolishly use them in one of their hedonistic rituals . . .

I dip the miniature funnel-like cups at the ends of two of the flexible pipes into the lubricant before activating the metal canister with a prod of a finger. I originally bought this for applying suction and drainage to harpy scratches, but it works just as well for its intended purpose, cups adhering over the equine teats and pulling at the dark flesh in insistent tugs. Garbo struggles in another useless fit, panting. "Are you experiencing undue discomfort?" The long pulls at his nipples do look rather harsh as he's not producing at the moment. "It will hurt less if you are willing to give, and again, this will happen if you simply relax." He tries to buck again, in a fruitless act of rebellion.

"As always, you leave all the _work_to me." I return for the knotted curved glass cylinder, dipping it in the lubricant, and then the feminization agent. Although it was expensive, it should stimulate enough of a desired hormonal response. Taking the hefty weight of the masturbatory aid in hand, I walk behind the subject. If this worked for a manticore, it should more than stimulate the sensitive folds of the artificial unicorn. I take two fingers and rub firmly at the dark quivering edges of his labia, running my thumb down to circle at his taut clit, eliciting a halting neigh as his fleshy edges begin to glisten.

I raise the long smooth end of the device up, sliding it against his femininity as his ears perk up while the solid contact smears cooling lubricant against him. His whinny of indignation is halted as I press firmly forwards and the glass spreads his folds around it, letting me see the pink of his insides past the darkly pigmented vaginal orifice. I rock the clear rod as it sinks deeper and deeper inside of him, his straining flesh quivering in bursts around it, clamping around the solid length before I press it in all the way so that the hefty rounded bulge butts against his taut labia. "Don't worry. There's almost no way even you could mess it up at this point." I press in harder, making his muscles strain as the glass bulb stretches his femininity wide before he clenches, and the smooth solid knot is drawn inside with a wet squelch, held there by his own muscular contractions, tail thrashing and ass clenched as he grunts.

I run my finger along the protruding glass jutting from inside of him, feeling his body heat radiating out through it as I slowly twist the sigils on the end, causing the glass to shudder and then buzz, vibrating against his insides as his ears perk up and he tosses his head back, whinnying as his insides begin to tense and pulse in random surges around the device. Clear female pleasure soon leaks from his stuffed cleft as he experiences his first female orgasm, drawn out perpetually by the thrumming device as it keeps him bucking on that plateau of mind-numbing pleasure.

There's a faint plinking as the first white drops of milk from his jostling teats are sucked through the tubes into the canister, vacuum preserving the freshness as the flow begins to increase. "There we go. What a good girl you make, Garbo. At least you have proved useful in some regard." I can see his desire to snap back at me quickly forgotten as the glass cylinder shakes and buzzes against his insides, his milk production continuing to increase as the suction cups tug relentlessly at his dark skinned teats. "I'm unsure how much I can reasonably hope to harvest until the morpho-thaumatic field collapses, but it looks like you could keep this up for quite some time." I reach in behind him, turning the masturbatory tool lodged inside of his equine vagina up to maximum output. The buzz oscillates from a low growl to a high whine as he pants and frothy spittle leaks from his lips.

Even his wildest attempts at bucking only rock him slightly, jostling his heavy teats as I press on the smooth warm glass one last time as if twisting a knife. "We'll simply have to see how long it takes before you run dry . . ." I take the still-warm silver basin up in my arms, bringing it back to my office to purify and distill the viscous essence. "After that we'll see." I walk to the door and flick off the lights. "There may be someone who needs a surrogate mare for foaling . . ."

He shrieks in terrified pleasure as I begin to close the door behind me. "Or perhaps I could see if there's any market for unicorn flesh." I lock the door, cutting off his frightened bray, setting the basin on the desk and beginning to gather the tools of my trade.

Giving the Marnettis all of this may keep them off of my back for awhile, but I highly doubt they'll be pleased without their feathers . . . I ponder as I go about my work. A phoenix and a human are just so fundamentally different. If I actually were to get my hands on some feathers though, and maybe a few drops of blood or eggshell . . . Perhaps I could find a way to make more . . .