Satisfaction
Who needs couples counseling when personality-shifting drugs are a thing?
They thought they could never be happier.
After all, they were finishing up college, each had internships in their respective fields, they understood each other when nobody else did. Sure, Alex was a bit higher-strung than Taylor, and there were a few nights where one of them went to bed unsatisfied. Who was he kidding? Taylor knew exactly why, he couldn't please anyone, not even himself.
For a while, the pair just sat, staring at the needle.
"Look, Taylor, you don't have to do this."
"It's fine, I've been wanting this too," the goat replied. He reached out, taking the needle in his hand. It was filled with Brutriol, a bulking and hormone-shifting drug. Testing had revealed no side effects yet, so Taylor figured it was a safe bet: he got the body he wanted and the libido Alex needed.
The ram looked over the pamphlet again. The program was simple, 3 doses over a single week, with more being provided if deemed necessary. The first two doses went through his system uneventfully, if anything, the couple was worried about being ripped off.
All of that changed with the third dose.
At first, the fox sighed, "So, you don't feel any different? Nothing at all?"
"Maybe it just takes time, we can't expect-" Taylor grunted, "Fuck!"
He could feel his heart straining against his chest, beating rapidly, unevenly. The ram breathed shallow, scared breaths while all the possible side effects ran through his head. What if it went wrong? What would happen to him?
These thoughts didn't last for long. Taylor started to feel his mind slow, along with his breathing. He dimly looked down at the top his body was filling.
The shirt that'd once felt like a tent on him had already begun to strain against the ever-growing wall of flesh. The sleeves had cinched upwards, leaving his thick arms completely exposed, and between his chest and traps surging outwards, the shirt looked like more of a tank top than anything.
Taylor moved his hands downwards, brushing against his thighs, his tear-shaped quads pushing him up from the couch. Further inward, he could feel it: his newly fat, flared cock straining against his boxers.
Crammed down one pant leg, the shaft had to fight for space with the heavy, overfilled orbs that were his balls: throbbing with activity, churning with new seed, warm and roiling.
They had to be emptied. He began to paw at his bulging crotch with abandon, and looked over to Alex. The fox looked on, speechless, eyes fixated on the scene before him.
The ram grunted, "Are you gonna help me or not?"
The fox inched over the cushion, looking him over. Courser fur had filled in the ram's chest and lead down to his twitching, confined bulge. Above all, Alex could smell rutting season in the air.
He leaned over, taking the ram's shaft in his hand. Pre had already started to pool on its head. Alex could feel it in his paws, the ram's needy breath on his neck. However, after guiding the hefty package out of its confinement, the fox thought to himself, "This isn't Taylor."
He started to draw back.
"Look, Tay, I'm going to call a doctor."
He could feel the ram's hands against the back of his head.
"It's going to be-"
His vision blurred in the moment that the ram needed to impale his muzzle.
"God, you've got a tight throat."
Fourteen inches of goat cock left the fox gagging. The ridges alone pressed against the walls of his throat, and he could feel the veins pulse with activity.
Taylor could feel the seed pumping through his body. It would've been enough before, he knew it had been enough before, but they weren't empty. Before, this dumb twink had the nerve to complain.
So now he'll get used.
The ram began to buck his hips, and pulled Alex upwards in his arms.
The potent, heavy balls slapped against the fox's mouth.
It hurt, the flare scraping against his throat, the hands keeping his skull in a tight grip.
Tears welled in his eyes.
Alex breathed in, taking in the smells, the musk.
Taylor clenched, he was getting close, finally going to be empty.
Alex's own pants fully tented, knot full to capacity.
One last time, his muzzle was brought up.
Thoughts ran through Taylor's head, "Slut. Fucktoy Fox. He was always empty, always wanting, needing."
Then Alex was brought down. With the fox nose-deep in the ram's pubes, breathing in his sent, and only his, Taylor climaxed, forcing a fist-sized wad of cum down the fox's tight, worthless, throat. The fox coughed, forcing seed out through his wet, black nose. This only seemed to arouse the beast more as his cock twitched in Alex's throat.
The dimmest of words echoed in the Alex's skull, "Would he ever stop?"
The fox stared upwards. The growth of the body had slowed, but the coarse fur kept climbing up the goat's body, leaving a thick trail pointing down to where the fox's thin muzzle was currently buried. The smell was unbearable, thick, male above all.
There, buried in musk, the fox bucked his hips, matching Taylor's own. With Alex's jeans thoroughly stained, and the his insides coated in seed, Taylor's cloven fingers yanked the fox off of his length by his head-fur.
"Fuck, that felt good," the goat sighed, stretching his new body. He was a practical wall of muscle, yet if anything, his heart was accelerating again, pumping the drug further into his system, changing his very bones. Taylor grunted in pain as his very skull changed, horns that were little more than rounded nubs on his forehead circled around, framing his new face beset with his thickened brow and widened jaw.
Looking to his side, the goat saw sinew building upon sinew, leaving his arms wider around than bowling balls. Even the most casual flex fired blood through the veins on his peaking bicep. Taylor raised himself up, effortlessly shoving the coffee table aside, and stared at his reflection in the window.
The goat was a demigod, looking over the city, his mirrored self could wipe away anything with a single flex, and pulling his arms downwards, he did just that. The seams constraining his torso popped, thread by thread, to reveal his shelf-like pecs. Staring directly downwards, the slabs blocked any further view, but in the window, he could see his furred abdominals pull into place, crushing buildings with their sheer might.
Turning to the side, he imagined his balls turning over cars, pulverizing concrete. The massive orbs wouldn't be contained, they churned, producing load after load of his potent fluid, bursting out of the remaining cloth that held them, looking more akin to melons in size. The mirrored cock surged outward, tearing through the center of the street. Now, the goat's ridged length held roughly 2 feet in front of him, thick as his thighs, throbbing and needy.
"That's right, they'll see," Taylor thought to himself. "They'll worship me."
The goat felt small paws working across his mountainous form, as if to reaffirm the same. Alex had buried his muzzle into an armpit, with his hands wrapped around the goat's waist, his ears sleepily laid at an angle. His master sweeped his arm down, hooking a finger into the waistband of Alex's pants, taking up a scrap of his own clothing in the other. In a moment, it was torn off, leaving the fox's redness open to the world, his fur and shaft exposed. From there, cramming the waifish Alex into the crook of his arm was a simple task.
The pair could just barely exit the door sideways, Taylor's chest and back scraped at each side. At the first flight of stairs, Alex regained a small bit of lucidity, aware that he was moving. At the second, he was aware he was being carried upwards. At the third, the fox whined, tail shot outward, "Where are you taking me?"
"Roof," Taylor grunted. "Want you to be seen."
On the fourth, the goat tore a door off of its hinges, exposing their fur to the cold twilight air. Taylor tossed the fox forward, his svelte physique pulling him into a running stumble. He hit the fence, bushy tail curled downward.
"Look, Tay, the whole city could see us," Alex stuttered. "What if-"
"Everyone in town finds out you want a real man? That's all they're gonna know, now hike that tail up," Tay's rumbling bass toned out. At this, his tail shot upwards, wagging. Alex couldn't help himself. He was just a body, following its needs.
Taylor kneeled down, spreading the fox's furred cheeks. With some effort, he managed to force his thick, pierced tongue into the fox's anus, elliciting a deep moan from the twink. Hands on Alex's ass, he wrenched his tongue around, filling the cavity with the goat's spittle. After all, that was the only way it was going to fit.
The goat stood, shaft in hand, and pressed its flared head into Alex. Being slicked with pre and spittle, it held, taking everything up to the median ring without a word from Alex aside from a whimper. The goat kept going.
A whimper under Alex's breath, "Too hard."
"Too hard? I haven't even started," the goat growled, and pushed in further.
"You-"
4 inches.
"Dumb--"
8 inches.
"Slut."
The goat thrust down to the hilt, getting a girlish scream from the fox. Again and again, he continued, pushing the fox further into the fence, the chain links dug further into his paws. His eyes shot upwards, Alex's tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he let the reds and oranges of the sunset blend into those of his own fur. The brute kept thrusting, grunting as he made proper use of the twink, matting his fur with cum and sweat. The goat's heavy balls slapped against Alex's legs, his taint, eliciting another moan. With that, the fox's red length twitched, dripping cum onto the concrete; he was spent.
The goat grit his teeth, letting out moans of his own against the fox's squealing. With each thrust, he used every ounce of muscle to force Alex back, hands gripping at the fox's tail. At another jerk, the goat clenched, emptying rope after rope of seed into the fox.
The whiteness climbed up his own length with each thrust, the back-pressure forcing more and more of his length out. Eventually, his flare was pulled out with a wet squelch. The length twitched, its thick spray marking the fox's back, using him more than he could be used. Ropes of the white fluid shot out further, past the fence, hitting the street below. More spilled out of the fox as he tried to stand with wobbling knees.
Taylor was content.