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Hard Work

_ Part 2 _

_ by: pennwolf _

"Nate, would you like to wake up now?"

A part of me, buried deep down, wanted me to wake up in my old bedroom in my parents' house. However, no sooner did I regain consciousness than I remembered the gruesome predicament I was stuck in. My tormentor's poison voice oozed into my ears.

'Moore,' I wanted to croak, but couldn't. Words were impossible. I couldn't speak. The cold fingers down my throat prevented me.

No, not fingers. My eyes were willed open. If it was due to the suggestion, or to my natural reaction of being roused, I couldn't say. Almost instantly I had to slam them shut, protect them from the searing fluorescent lights that loomed above the quarters. I tried to jerk my head away, but couldn't. Something was gripped around my head, and my throat. I gurgled helplessly.

"Don't struggle," The Doctor's voice crooned in my ears, "you'll only make it worse. Harm yourself when the formula takes effect."

I squinted. My body was upright, but I wasn't standing. A rigid metal table propped me up at a steep angle, head above feet. Straps bound my arms at my sides, and exposed skin was rubbed red. I imagined blood running like tears down my arms, but couldn't turn my head to verify. The strap around my forehead was slick with perspiration. It itched, but I wasn't in the state to scratch at it.

The inability to move my legs suggested that my lower half was similarly-restrained. The binding around my neck was looser than the rest, but not enough to make it comfortable. In fact, it seemed to serve to keep my jaw open and pointed skyward. The raw grip that felt as if an entire hand had been forced down my throat? It was a tube that led out of my open mouth, fed from a mechanism that loomed above me.

A pinprick, and the sound of heavy footfalls on dry grass. My peripheral vision was all I had to follow Moore as he darted away from my arm, stowed a syringe, and then strut some distance in front of me.

"Soon it will begin, Nate," The doctor stated. "I've just applied your final dosage of preserum. The hypnotic cocktail still has you in its grasp. Despite this, the years have taught me to take precautions. Your transformation will cause your body to undergo unimaginable physical stress. Your weight could very well double, which will dull your ability to remain suggestible."

I tried to respond, tried to say anything. Not even a spit bubble could push past my dry, cracked lips.

"That is, until your mind reverts," Moore continued, "and then I'll be able to increase your hypnotics to a more suitable dosage. It's an amount that could kill you in your human form, I fear. We will then incrementally adjust it, find the perfect concentration to keep you obedient in your new form, while not putting your reverted state in any danger."

A moan of pain was all I could choke out in response.

"Why am I telling you this, you might be wondering?"

For once, I wasn't. I knew it was because he was insane.

"To prepare you," Moore said devilishly. "I am of the persuasion that a body and mind prepped for the transformation adapts more readily. It's why I had you bear witness to Scott's own change. Certainly not something that you could spring on someone in an everyday setting. The pandemonium! Though, I must admit, I would relish the opportunity. So many variables. Pair that with an ability to spread the mutagen like a plague, and--no, my mind flies ahead of itself. There will be time for that later."

He re-positioned himself, and I heard a crank of metal. My angle was adjusted ever so slightly, now almost perpendicular to the floor of my quarters. Another hum of motors, this time quieter and at a different pitch, and I felt the throb of the tube in my mouth. Even through the tears in my eyes, I could see a translucent white sludge crawl down towards my mouth.

"The mutagen," Moore explained. I could almost imagine the smile on his bearded face. "No going back now, Nate."

The semisolid matter passed though my mouth, forcing its way down my throat. I could feel the slight pulse as it was unevenly-distributed in the tube. It was like swallowing a snake that had recently-eaten. Fist-sized globs threatened to choke me, and the tears became white-hot in the chapped corners of my eyes. I felt the viscous substance settle in me, and my stomach went cold. The icy substance numbed me from within, and I could almost feel my gut bulge as the volume of mutagen sloshed around in a slurry. I wanted to scream, but of course I couldn't. My muted struggle continued, until I saw the last of the miasma roll towards my open mouth.

"Part of me wonders if this is what you really wanted," Moore mused. His voice was different now. Less restrained. None of that forced civility that he put forth at the dinner table the night prior. "An escape. You tried to drive away from it all, didn't you Nate? Leave your problems, your insecurities, behind? Will yourself to keep going forward, anywhere that path would take you?"

Tears ran down my cheeks. They felt even hotter as the chill spread to my extremities. I wanted to gag, but it was impossible. Everything was numb.

"Well, I found you. I fed and clothed you. Took you into my home. Desired you for what you were, what you could_be. Not what you could never be. In my eyes, you can be_anything, Nate. So long as I deem it so."

Moore kept talking, but I couldn't register most of it. My head was swimming. A storm of conflicting thoughts and ideas. Suggestions and desires. Something bubbled to the surface, but I couldn't describe it. Could only feel it. A primal urge, something that made the core of my numbed body vibrate like a tuning fork.

An ancient fight or flight, re-purposed into something that almost resembled acceptance? Eagerness? It was a sense to end it all. To quash any lingering doubts I maintained of getting out of this surreal, grotesque fate. Was I consigned to being a monster?

"It was hard work," Moore said. "But I've never been averse to it. I embrace a challenge. Finding a suitable replacement for my work-horse, that was a challenge. Modifying the mutagen under a strict time limit? Insurmountably difficult for a younger me. Yet here we stand."

The whirring of gears again. I could feel the feeding tube retract. The invader scraped and pulled; I felt as if it was pulling my guts out with it. The dispenser was slowly reeled towards the light, and I could breathe. I could groan, and scream. I rubbed my throat rawer as I shouted in agonized fear. Animals joined in my cacophony. My new brothers, trapped in adjacent cells, screamed for me. With me.

"But, I'm sure you know what I like to say about hard work by now," Moore hissed.

More footsteps. I heard the metal door slam behind him. A digital interface clicked into action. More gears, spinning beneath me. All at once, I was weightless. My straps instantly unlocked, and I plummeted. A rough landing, and my limbs spread wildly as I felt my face hit the ground last. I nearly choked as straw was forced into my open mouth.

"Nate, listen to me, my boy," Moore spoke. I knew what was coming. "Hard work builds character."

The trigger phrase.

I cried out, more animal than man in that moment. My lungs emptied, and every furious thought I had experienced in the last day--no, the last year--erupted out of me in a visceral scream. One final protest, my last resistance. I wanted to hold onto myself for as long as I could, and the only way I knew how was to lash out at my cruel lot in the universe.

"FUCK!" I snapped, the scream cut short. Drool flied out of my mouth, and a strand dangled from my lower lip.

I reached up to wipe it away. My arms. They were moving again. Legs, too. No longer did paralyzing cold have its grip over my body. On the contrary, as I rose to my knees, I felt a warmth emanate in my midsection. It was hot. Too hot. Compared to the numbness, this made the heat even more unbearable.

"Ohhh," I moaned, clutching at my stomach.

"Try to stay calm, Nate," the doctor instructed from behind his viewing window. He almost sounded amused. "Don't fight what's about to happen. You'll only make it worse, my boy."

My hands darted to my belly, and I forced my shirt up. It was instinctive, a base desire to look at my body and make sure that I wasn't actually on fire. The skin of my palm ran over my navel, and it was indeed hot to the touch. I felt pinpricks. Thousands of hot, microscopic needles boring through my skin. Out_of my skin. Weaving through me, like I was being stitched together. Not only on my stomach, either. My chest. My arms. Legs. _Everywhere.

I felt it now for what it was. Hair. Fine auburn hairs lanced through red-hot flesh, and organized into a coat of animal fur.

"N-no! Fuck! AAAHHHHHHH!!" I screamed. I threw the shirt off, jerked it violently over my head and flung it away.

I needed to do the same to the pants, I realized. I fell backwards, off-balance by the wild fervor of my own motions. My hands went for the button around my waist. I gasped, cried out in a whole new horror as I didn't recognize what was attached to my wrist.

I dully remembered that Scott only had three fingers on each hand when he completed his transformation into the bull-creature. I was now living the same horror. I watched my own hand transform before my very eyes. I felt two fingers press into one another, the flesh knitted and meshed together seamlessly as I felt bones snap. A phantom sensation of losing two fingers, yet I was still able to feel them within my hand. My addled brain told the pointer to move individually, and the index to follow suit. The same brutish finger twitched twice.

"It hurts!" I hissed. "Moore! D-Doctor Moore!! M-make it stop! Just let me go! I-I'll never say anything. Not mention...what you do here....Ugghhh. J-j-just end it! End me!! I...I..."

I couldn't see him. Didn't w_ant_ to see him. It was unstoppable, irreversible. I knew it. This force of unyielding chemical craftsmanship in my body, it bent and reshaped me to some new blueprint. In my delirium of watching my hand transform, I had neglected to notice anything else. Suddenly, as the transformation progressed, I crashed backwards, spine arched in pain.

It felt like every muscle was on fire. Similar to the day after a long workout, when I couldn't move anything without fire racing under my skin. I looked down at my chest and saw two rippling contours of muscle. My pectorals had grown, expanded to monstrous proportions. They were caked in dirt, strands of hay. My auburn pelt was matted with sweat. I ran thick, three-fingered hands over my chest and moaned, the feeling unreal.

"S-so big. Uhhhhnnn, fuck."

My arms. Unwieldy. Huge. Heavier with the amount of muscle they had packed on. I migrated lower, felt my palms run over the stock of abdominal muscles that rippled underneath blistering skin. Thicker. Everything was thicker, stronger, exaggerated. A human no more, I was turning into a behemoth. I could crush, I could pull and lift. I could run, if I willed it. Fuck, I wanted to run.

I tried to stand, but almost rocked forward to eat another clump of cage lining. I was completely top-heavy, now larger than my body ever had any right to be. My frame was taller and broader, and I couldn't get a sense of the space I now occupied.

On my knees again, I looked down to see the progression of my lower half. Thighs had packed even more girth, and the seams of my jeans had failed to contain the bulk. I saw tufts of hair snaking between the tears. The muscular trunks continued to swell, which caused the frayed denim to curl and warp even further.

"Aaaaaaaagggghhh," I moaned, squinting out of tear-stained eyes.

I reached down with my monster's hand. A fire in my groin that had to be released. Ever-shrinking cloth that couldn't contain me, just cause me pain. Alleviate the pain. I had to feel it. Feel good. My fingers wrapped around a fold on the inseam of my crotch. I twisted, and wrenched.

A bray of relief erupted from my lips as I cast off the denim and undergarments. Shreds of the confinement littered the ground around me, and I felt cool air on a broiling beast-dick that flopped with an audible weight to the ground. Glistening with perspiration, I reached down to familiarize myself with the foot-long spear of meat.

"Ohhhhh. N-no. Can't. Oh fuck. Ahhhhhhhh," I moaned sensually, closing my eyes and allowing myself a moment of reprieve from the pain that wracked my growing body. "N-Need to."

Electricity coursed from my fingertips down the length of my member. I stroked it as if it were the only thing in the world, my one true possession in an emptiness that had settled around me. The cock twitched and hardened for me, driving me to stroke faster. My subject and my seducer.

It was a distraction. I had to ignore it. Had to keep....keep me.

"Augh, n-no. F-fuck!" I grunted. "Be over. Make the pain go away. M-make it...keep. Feeling. Good. Oh God. IT...FEELS...GOOD."

I could barely remember Scott saying the same.

Stood up. I bellowed. Huge, glossy black hooves supported me now. Hair, lighter than the rust that had overtaken my frame, draped over my hooves in an almost snowy color. Stark naked, I reached back behind me, towards my prodigious rear. A nub, at the base of my back.

Groans of pain as it pushed out of my body. An extension of myself that I had never before known. The tail was slender, and if I attempted it, simple to move. It almost wriggled of its own accord, quickly overrun with long hairs that matched the darkest reds on my neck. As it reached the crest of growth, I felt a similar pushing sensation on the opposite front of my head.

"Awwww f-f-fuck. M-my face." I grumbled, voice distorted.

As my words slurred, I could feel my vision distort. A clear image, through heavy beads of moisture, bent into two clear, distinct frames. A cacophony of cracks accompanied the distortion, echoed in my skull. I felt bone elongate, then it settled and snapped into its new configuration. I waved my head back and forth. It unfurled a mane of mahogany hair in my wake.

I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. My new skull contorted into its final shape. A broad, long face, tapered into a snout. Two wide nostrils that finally permitted massive lungfuls of air into my throat as I gagged for breath. My tongue, unwieldy and thick, was dry on the floor of my mouth. I gnashed my teeth together. Knickered in agitation. I wanted to cry out, to scream or to grunt. However, I couldn't remember why.

"Mmmmmrrrgh," I sloshed the tongue around in my mouth.

My ears, now two rotating spades on the top of my skull, flicked about as I kept abreast of my surroundings. I looked around, my vision sharper but disorienting. I staggered, and was overwhelmed by the new power in my body. I wrung my fingers together into fists, flexed my arms as I felt bone pop into joint. I stood straight, back flexed like rolling mountains.

Even the cock swinging between my legs was monolithic. I reached down, gave it another playful tug. Pleasure jolted through me, which ignited a reaction throughout my entire body. Desire choked my meaty throat. I possessed burning need to breed. To fuck. I considered my options. Nostrils flared. I sussed out potential mates. No one here bore scent resembling mine. Similar, but not my line. I sensed no females, either.

That...didn't bother me?

"Nate, can you hear me?"

A voice from the other side of the wall. My ears perked up, swiveled. I acknowledged the man that I could see behind a portal of clear rock. He was familiar. He had been here, sole witness of my first steps into the world. I moved closer. Stumbled--I was too strong. My steps wavered, as if the earth was vibrating underfoot. I stomped over to the human that I regarded with some sort of paternal affection. Difficult to identify, to put into words. But I knew. I knew he was the reason I was here.

"Good. Nate, can you speak?"

What was that word? Nate? Oh. That was my name.

"M-muurrrr," I grunted. "M-Moore."

"Very good. Yes. I'm Dr. Moore. You remember me, don't you?"

I nodded.

"You're beautiful, my boy. Your birth into this world. Shedding your old self. I-I can't deny that I had my reservations. It was all so fast, a whirlwind that brought you here; and now you stand before me. I was always fond of horses, you see. Memories, as a boy. Raising and riding them on my parents' small plot of land. The power, the precision. All under my control. Intoxicating. Now here you stand before me, the king of all stallions."

Difficult to follow him. My father spoke of things I couldn't possibly understand, but I desired nothing more than to listen with total, unwavering attention. He continued to talk. I continued to listen. The contents of the words weren't as important as the meanings behind them. Intonation, the way he carried his body as he spoke. I could sense pride. In me. I wanted to please him. I could also sense his arousal. That I wanted to please even more.

"H-here," I rumbled. "With me."

I raised two boulder-sized fists, and brought them down against the wall in front of me. A crack flowered on the ice-like glass. My Father recoiled backwards. I whinnied in confusion.

Not my intent. These hands, the power in them. I stood back and shook my head.

"Your strength is astonishing," Moore gasped. "Truly you're the specimen I've been looking for, Nate. You want me...to join you? Come in there with you?"

I nodded. I wanted nothing more than to be with him. To have his presence rub up against my own.

"Unorthodox," Moore said. "The first change is so volatile. You're uncontrollable. A newborn beast into this world. You understand, to a degree, but you cannot fathom even your own strength."

The disappointment in his voice was palpable. The last thing I wanted was to upset him. I stamped a foot onto the ground. Dust plumed around my hoof. My tail lashed out behind me in agitation. I had desires. I needed them satiated by someone. If not him, not the man who made me, then who?

It made me angry. I clenched my fists, raised my arms, and prepared to bring them down upon the glass again.

"But I know what you need, Nate, do not fear. I've made plans for you."

I cocked my head. Arms sunk.

My Father's attention turned to something in front of him. I could hear the clicks. Rhythmic tick of metal tumbling together. A melody he played at his fingertips. As the music cut, I turned with shock to see the cold steel wall on the other side of my enclosure tremble. It crept into the air. Revealed an opening to a vast cavern beyond.

"Nate, stay calm. You have nothing to fear," Moore soothed me. "I've called you a companion. Your friend. Your new brother."

Two hooves were visible on the other side of the opening. As the figure stepped out of the shadows, my nostrils flared. My tail flicked, this time in the language of anticipation. I could sense desire that matched my own, and it resided with the bovine that stepped into my territory. The wall folded flush with itself. It hemmed me in with the stout bull that had joined me.

What was he called? The likeness was in the back of my mind, buried under the weight of all that had happened since my rebirth.

"Scott, go to your brother," Moore encouraged.

Scott? That word. His name!

The muscular, hazel-furred beast rushed me. Though his horns only came to my shoulders, he was still quite strong. His forehead drove into my chest, and I felt him take a great, huffing breath. I was breathing hard now too, excited at the prospect of a potential mate. Another one like me. Not truly my equal, but close.

We grunted in our own bestial tongue, and I could sense our father watching on with rapt fascination. Scott's own sizable cock rubbed against mine. It sent shivers of one-dreaded pleasure up my spine.

I considered the bull, Scott, as a potential mate. I thought of burying myself into his waiting hole, thrusting into my brother as he bellowed in pleasure. My seed coursing into him, locking us together. The mere thought summoned a spurt of precum from my equine cock.

In this haze of lust, I suddenly found myself off-balance. Scott dug in his hooves and caused me to trip over my own clumsy, newborn's legs. As I felt myself leave the ground, fall backwards, I sensed two arms grapple me in an embrace. Scott's frame bulged with the strength of his beastly desire, and together we fell as one, him cradling me on my back. My legs splayed out below me, cock spearing into the air and slapping at the bull's snout as I felt his own tool probe the space underneath my tail. I clenched; I feared the invader. I was not some mare. No treasure waited between my muscular globes.

I couldn't trust him with that.

Nonetheless, I moaned. Realization struck after a moment. I knickered. Understood what was happening. Yet, it still puzzled me. My size, the sheer weight I had on the bull. Logically, that put me in the position to mount him. Didn't it?

...No. It didn't matter. Whether I penetrated him, or he drove into me, we would be together. We would fuck. Breed one another. Two brothers in our father's garden.

"Amazing," our ruler's voice echoed on the edge of our world.

I shuddered in anticipation. My legs spread further apart. The juicy head of my brother's cock hungrily probed at the hole that would soon belong to him. Scott leaned over my snout and snorted a hot cloud of moisture into my face. His gargantuan hands now flat on the ground, he looked straight ahead into my eyes.

I leaned halfway into a sitting position, supporting my arched body with two strong arms. I pressed my head into the ridge between his horns. We shared the moment. Drank it in together. I then felt the unyielding pressure of penetration.

"AUUUUUUGGGHHH," I neighed in primal bliss.

"Nate..." Scott grunted. "Brother...Mine. Yes..."

His throbbing member pushed into my hole, slowly at first. It felt natural, like I had been waiting to be penetrated my entire life. Was this true? Though I was reborn, I had hazy recollection of those days before. When I was smaller. Human. To be with another male--I hadn't even considered it, though now I desired nothing more. I felt the ring of muscle in my rear expand. Unwillingly, now, as the overgrown invader slid in.

I panted hard. Pain suddenly flooded my body. I groaned, the sensation quickly too much to bear. The walls of my ass resisted such a powerful intruder. I gnashed my teeth, a mixture of pain and pleasure as I felt my hole slowly widen around Scott's maleness. His cock throbbed, and I felt another inch bore into me.

Scott rumbled. His fingers dug into the earth beneath us. My desires were now his, and I could tell that he desired nothing more than to breed me. I let my head fall back. My ears rested flat against ground as I gave myself over to him.

The bull cock drilled deeper. Forced itself with indomitable precision into my guts. My hole was now loosened up. It completely accepted its invader as the hot flesh of Scott's crotch pressed against my taut balls. I grunted in carnal satisfaction. Completely filled up. There was pain, yet the_pleasure_. The mixture of feelings that I could not understand, only feel. It drove me wild. I clawed at the ground with all six of my fingers. My head rose slightly and then slammed back down.

It was like shedding my human skin all over again.

A salt-like taste on my tongue. My eyes were squinted in pleasure, but I opened them to look down at my chest. The vast muscles rose and fell like a tide. For a brief moment, I thought that I was still transforming. Still growing and swelling into my true mold.

No. I just wasn't used to my new bulk. My gargantuan chest bounced as Scott fucked me, the slabs of muscle rising and falling in tandem with huge lustful gasps. My equine face, longer than I was used to, permitted my tongue to loll out over the sweaty pectorals. I licked and lapped at my own perspiration. I whinnied in pleasure, giddy at the realization of how huge I was.

"Uuuruuurrgh," Scott bellowed.

I grunted too. His thrusts became harder. Faster. More desperate. He had a new purpose. It wasn't just to unite our bodies. He needed to pour his seed into me. I felt additional weight press against my body as he sank into me and kept pounding. The huge cock pistoned in and out of me. I cried out, lips flapping with saliva as I endured the attack on my rear. I couldn't think, couldn't process. My hole clenched and unclenched, but was wildly out of sync with his thrusts.

"AAAHHHH," I groaned.

An emptiness in my rear for but a moment. Scott had pulled out of me completely. My muscles relaxed, worn from the constant onslaught. It was at this moment he struck home: the bovine member drove into me, grinded into my body and spread the globes of my ass apart even further.

My hole expanded, stretching beyond what I could have ever imagined. Human, horse, whatever I was, it didn't_matter_. I grit my teeth and uttered a guttural cry. Scott rivaled the ferocity of my voice, and bellowed at me. I looked up and I saw his eyes inches from my own, wild with desire.

He slammed harder, pressed his horned skull into the flat of my own head. He pushed, which caused my back to arch, and dug in as the cock inside of me throbbed. I could feel it pulsing like a second heart, dumping streams of hot seed into my guts. Spittle flew from Scott's mouth as he groaned and bellowed, the beast satiated.

I could feel his fluid inside of me--it struggled to find space to fill. Scott's seed pooled and coated his own member. I felt the cock throb again, wetter with its own contents. The bull shifted his weight. I could feel several rivulets of semen leak out from around the base of his shaft, flow down my buttocks, and coagulate onto the ground beneath us.

We swayed in tandem, and I felt the back of my neck land against the straw that lined the ground of my enclosure. It was cool and dry, a welcome change from our two hot bodies. Scott followed my lead, and lay completely on top of me. He grunted, nostrils flaring into the cleavage of my pectorals.

Time passed. Minutes, or an hour, I couldn't tell. I didn't care. I could only sense the slow shrink of Scott's member inside of me. He grunted and stirred to life, before he made the first move to untangle our sweat-soaked bodies and pull out of my ass with a satisfying wet pop. I moaned as the muscle in my hole quivered. It had grown accustomed to the invader, and now it was agape. I felt more fluid flow freely to the ground.

"That was...incredible," I heard a ghost of a voice announce.

Our father. Scott and I both turned our attention to the wall behind me, where the cracked window revealed a beaming, bearded face. I craned my neck, and turned my body as Scott rose to sturdy hooved feet.

"You did wonderful, Scott," Our father said proudly. "You have truly welcomed your new brother into the folds of our family."

"Faaa. Faaaamly," Scott grumbled in a deep, spent voice. He nodded in dull acknowledgment of the praise.

"Yes, you love your family," Moore stated. "Though, however strong your performance, I simply cannot forgive your earlier transgression."

The bull cocked his head inquisitively. His lips scrunched. I too was at a loss for words. I searched memories half-formed together, swirled in the sunken fog in my head. I could remember earlier, from before my rebirth.

My ears twitched in unforgotten fear, in loss. He, Scott, he...helped me? Failed me. But tried. I couldn't remember why I had tried to leave this place.

What...did my brother remember?

"We could have lost your brother, if your juvenile plan had progressed any further," Our Father scolded Scott. "You don't want that, do you?"

Scott grunted. A heavy hoof stomped the ground and kicked up a circular cloud of dust. His head sank lower, and he didn't meet our father's level gaze.

"I understand," The voice said, tone now kind and understanding. "I know it was your lesser half. The cunning of rebellious youth. Impertinent human planning. Thrown together on a whim."

There was a brief pause. I used the time to re-orient myself, and now kneeled with my weight back on spread legs. There was still great pain in my rear, and my own cock bobbed impatiently, jutted from my body like a spire. But I ignored it for the time being, and listened.

"...Still, you must be punished. You have other brothers that will see to the task," Moore stated firmly.

Scott nodded, slowly again. I could almost feel his remorseful look on the back of my head. I heard his heavy footfalls, and then turned my head slightly to watch him leave. The great sloping shoulders, the strong muscle that knotted and released with every deliberate step. He was so strong. I pitied him, and I whinnied in remorse as the wall opened into that same dark cavern. I watched him disappear, and the wall closed.

I was now alone. Well, not entirely.

"Nate..." My father's voice crooned. "My beautiful specimen. My miracle. It's as if I'm looking into his face again."

I fixed on the image of the doctor, distorted slightly by the wall of glass. My thoughts swam, and I tried to understand.

Whose face?

"Your eyes belie your confusion," My father said, his voice like supple grass brushing against my naked body. "You're so pure. Those emotions, so raw. Simple, but intense. You feel as we do, as your human self does, but so much...deeper. I've put in such hard work to shape your body, and yet that mind remains so mysterious."

"Muhhh," I grunted. My tongue caught in my mouth. Ears flicked in agitation as I tried to work out the sounds that I needed to pronounce. "M-Moore."

"Yes?" He responded quickly, eagerly. He was drinking in my words.

"Moore. You. M-my...faah. Father." I chewed on the words as they stumbled out of my mouth.

"I am," he said, chuckling. "I'm your father. Your progenitor. I created you, Nate. You're a work of art, and you're mine. What do you think of this?"

"FF-father," I parsed. "Father protect. Father...of our fuh-family. B-but why? Why send b-brothers...to hurt? You hurt...you hate."

A long moment of silence. Machinery hummed in the space between our words before Moore spoke again.

"I think I understand you, my boy. You ask, if I am your father, why do I hurt you? If I'm your father, I should love you. I shouldn't hurt you, or make you hurt one another?"

I bobbed my head in confirmation.

"It's...complicated, my boy," he said, a rising tone of emotion in his voice. "Though I am your father, I am also more. So much more. Like a God, I must remain...distant. You need guidance. A firm hand. So much to teach you, my newborn stallion. You...you don't understand much of this, I fear."

"Y-you don't...don't love? Us? Love...me?" I comprehended his sadness. The disappointment. I even understood the dissonance of what he said and what he desired. Difficult. My mind slowly worked at the disappointment. It was like slowly chewing a mouthful of sinewy grass.

I placed my hand on the fractured window again. A calloused palm gently pressed on the cool surface, where my fist had crashed prior. A low rumble escaped me, and I stared at Moore through fractals of cracked glass.

He hesitantly met my gaze. His brow furrowed, and lip quivered. Then, as he shifted his head, his eyes were obscured by the glare of his glasses against the fluorescent sun that beat upon us.

I knickered in agitation. My long, elegant equine tail lashed reflexively behind me like a cracking whip. I pressed harder on the glass. Could he not understand the pain that he was causing me--causing us _both--_by stubbornly refusing to join me in his garden? There was moisture in my eyes. I felt such an incomprehensible loss. Something had been taken from me. I willed my longing desire through my hand, into the glass. The yearning emanated from me like dying embers.

Whatever had been taken, it couldn't be replaced. Who I had been was now gone. All that was left was the savagely beautiful body that I now resided in. My brother's presence had helped ease the transition, but I needed something more fulfilling.

I needed to get Moore into the quarters--no, the garden--with me.

"...Very well," he muttered.

My ears flicked in eager attention. Giant palm, slick with sweat, no longer pressed against the glass. The beastly heart thumped in my chest, and I could feel the thrum of excitement in my ears. The shiver down my spine and into my core. Into my loins.

A hard whirring sound hissed like a metal insect from the door next to the glass pane. I stood back, eager but wary, as an iron pole rescinded from the ground and retracted into the door. In another moment, I saw a gap of light appear along the wall in front of me. Shadows of footsteps appeared in the sliver of visible walkway outside of my enclosure. The door swung open.

I saw him. Moore. My Father, my self-proclaimed God. His frame wide, strong with aged muscle. His black beard was speckled with silver-gray hairs, but his sloping shoulders projected strength. He looked up, looked me in the eyes as I eagerly whinnied.

I towered over my Father. An errant thought reminded me that I could crush him. Easily. Snap him in two with a crack of my huge fists.

I willed the thought away. With a deep breath, I then took a cautious step forward.

Moore responded with a soft chuckle, and took a deep breath. He put a hand out, and gestured me to stand still, as he closed the distance between us. Behind him, the door swung shut and the bar reset itself into a heavily-fortified lock.

"You're even more beautiful up close, my boy," he admired in sweet baritone.

"N-Naaate," I slurred. "Call me. By name."

Moore chuckled again. The expression was difficult to read on his face, but he smiled and seemed to play along. Humoring me?

"Very well. Nate, my miracle. My perfect creation."

My ears flicked at his words, at the plain and clear pride in his tone. Moore stepped even closer, and I leaned forward to meet him as his hand went to my chest. His fingers traced the crevice between my two pectorals, and he gingerly moved outwards. He paused momentarily to caress one of my nipples, and then traced the wide frame of my chest. Next, he ran the hand over my shoulder.

"...Incredible. Couldn't have asked for better," he said. "Imagine all of the work you will be capable of, Nate, my boy. Now we only need to adjust your dosage. Find that threshold. Who knows how long you'll be able to maintain this form. Your first shift. I'm speechless at how painless it has all been."

His words were just that, words. I was focused on the hand that migrated lower, pressing and kneading my thick abdominals. But I caught painless, and remembered, with much frustration, the hot irons pressed to human flesh. The stretching of the body, inflating my muscles. Breaking my bones. Painless...?

I remembered my mind shattering. Reverting. And then, a brief moment of clarity. I almost gasped aloud, but disguised the disturbance as a moan of pleasure. It was quite easy, under the circumstance.

I was Nate. I was abducted. I was...transformed. A good transformation, maybe. But...

"...No," I rumbled. "Not painless. But nothing hurts. When you here. My Father."

I lowered my head, and the side of my long muzzle brushed against his beard. Moore raised a hand and wrapped it around my face, drawing me in close as he took a deep breath. I could sense his excitement, and perhaps he knew of mine as well.

Though, it wasn't difficult to figure out. My cock bobbed in carnal need. I hadn't even lost the erection since my brother had bred me. Now I could feel it full with the white-hot pain of desire. It needed to be emptied.

My previous life couldn't have been farther away.

I whinnied, bucked my head into Moore's, growing more restless by the second.

"You beautiful, simple brute," Moore cooed. "Yes. Yes, I suppose we must. Before you change back. I must..."

Brute. Yes. Nothing more, was I?

"Yes. Must," I grunted.

My large hands met his as Moore went for his shirt collar. He chuckled as he swiftly undid the top button, revealing a furl of black hair. I tried for the next button in line, and promptly popped the useless thing off. It went flying, and loudly clicked against a wall. Neither of us cared.

Moore shucked his vest off over his arms, and it fell to the straw-covered ground. I narrowly avoided jabbing him in the stomach with the head of my cock as we continued the courtship. He unbuttoned with more fervor, and then pulled the peel of fabric off and around his shoulders. Another moment, his shirt fell by the wayside.

My father, even in his age, was powerful. He had a round stomach, but as I ran over it with blunt, hungry fingers, I could feel a hard layer of muscle. His chest was coated in curly black hair. I was momentarily hypnotized by the sparkles of gray, the movement and flexion of muscle underneath his pelt as he undid his belt and threw it aside.

I wanted to lean in again. Nuzzle him. Kiss him. Whatever I could accomplish with this clumsy mouth. I didn't get the chance. Moore was on his knees now, and the speartip of my member was engulfed by his hot, wet mouth. A hungry tongue danced around my engorged cockhead. A bellow of pleasure escaped my lips as I bucked my hips into him.

The gag I received in response stoked savage desire. I felt the vibration of his mouth against my member, the splatter of mucus on the roof of my dick as he huffed against the invader. I snorted, and bucked again. The press of his throat against my cock, the tickle of his facial hair on my shaft, and even the slight scrape of teeth, all felt incredible.

I was alive. Gone was the haze of half-formed thoughts in my head. I wasn't frustrated at how slow my fingers were, or how I still couldn't reign in the swat of my tail. It was the same wholeness felt when my brother had embraced me. When Scott had pressed his rock-hard cock into my body, fear and anxiety had melted away. I could focus on one thing and one thing alone: pleasure. This new form, my real form. It certainly had its quirks, its drawbacks.

But I could grow to accept it.

"Huuuurrrrgh," I moaned. Disguised pleasure again.

No. Not real. I wasn't this. I tried to hang onto the phantom thought, but it was too elusive. My Father's mouth was all I cared about. I craved it. Him.

Moore was forced backwards, taken off of his knees by the raw power of my thrusts, the aggressive push of my cock down his throat. He fell flat on his back, and I saw the swell of his stomach as my Father gasped for breath. A strand of saliva fell from the tip of my member to the ground. I followed it, then my eyes roved to Moore as he scrambled. Thick legs pumped against loose straw as he gained footing. I caught a glimpse of his rear, and I imagined what it would be like to tear off his pants.

"...Mate you," I rumbled.

I focused on where those legs met, that space still concealed by clothing. Mounds of soft muscle pressed together; it tantalized me with what lurked below. I suddenly understood what Scott had probably experienced as he dove at me, crushed me beneath his body and probed into me with lustful need.

I took a thunderous step forward. Moore looked up, glasses askew. He was propped up in a half-sitting position, one leg bent under him as he leveraged himself.

"Nate--" He started. That sound in his voice: fear?

Another moment. I was upon him now. A thick hand pressed him to the ground. Forced him. Moore went prone. The folded leg sprang out, and he was now spread before me. I rumbled with pleasure, lost in the power of my own desire. Marveled at my strength, the ease at overpowering my Father.

I allowed myself to go further. No words from my Father prevented it. As I felt my cock sway in time with the turn of my hips, I also felt the head of my instrument rub against the obstruction of Moore's pants.

"No," I huffed. "Need it."

"My boy, something that size...y-you...Well, you're liable to tear me in half."

"No hurt. Painless," I repeated.

I sank into him. My chest pressed against his as I felt Moore's body compress under my weight. My arms mirrored his, and I folded my big, blunt fingers against his comparatively diminutive digits. I caressed his face with my muzzle, running lips across skin and beard. I could almost reach out my tongue, clamp down my teeth, and nibble--

"Boy!" My father roared from beneath the bulk, "Nate--my boy, Nate, you must get...off of me. Now!"

My body relaxed under sway of my father's commands. At first, it only seemed to double-down on my crushing weight as the muscles in my arms went slack, and I pressed further into him. But then, in a moment, I found footing, and I hauled myself off of my dwarfed creator. I stood up and huffed another snort, and hung my head low in shame. Ears flat against the thick of my skull.

Shame not directed at my failed foreplay. No, shame that I had not taken this further. The hypnotic effect of his voice was still at work. It was duller, and I was slower to obey, but still I was under my Father's will.

"C-control yourself," Moore said.

I watched him finally struggle to his feet. He turned around, swatted away straw and dirt that had plastered itself against his back. That back. My eyes preyed upon his backside. Thick contours of muscle, rippling as he dusted off the seat of his pants. Softer flesh slightly spilled over the cinch of his belt. Blue denim held the two globes of his grand ass in. Taunting me. A bead of desire fell from the opening of my cock, dribbled onto straw that had been stained with Scott's leftovers from when he had bred me.

"...And follow my lead," Moore said. "If you must do what you will, we will begin now that I've had time to center myself. Come at me, Nate, and make it quick. I wager we are quite short on time."

His hypnotic words were accentuated by the sure-footed gait that lead him towards the metal wall of the garden. He bent over, and pressed his palms against the barricade. I snorted in pleasure, and my cock bounced eagerly as he presented his rear to me.

I stomped forward, stumbling slightly. As I dwarfed Moore, I saw his hands motion to the front of his waist. He quickly undid his belt, and pulled it away from his pants as my hungry hand lunged forward. I gripped the seat of his jeans. A broad finger slid over the rim of denim and rubbed against his warm flesh. With a great motion, I pulled.

Moore was nearly swept out from under his feet, but he had the presence of mind to go with the force of my grip, and stepped out of his pant legs as I ripped them down and away from his body.

My Father hissed in restrained pleasure as his bare rear was exposed to the air of my quarters. His ass jiggled as he stepped away from the garments. He looked down, and I could see him glancing at his own erection. My Father's member swung like a pendulum, and heavy testicles sagged freely in open air. My eyes roved over his ass, and I admired the delicate curly hairs that covered his pale skin like budding grass on an early-season field.

I snorted again, and a splatter of drool fell from my lip to his lower-back. I was now hunched over, my other hand pressed against the small of his back as I threw the shredded jeans behind me. As I pressed him lower, Moore struggled against my power. His palms slid helplessly down the metal wall. The position served to arch his back downwards, which fully presented the round, full ass that I intended to break into.

"Ohh," Moore said with a tone of surprise. "N-Nate, my boy, you--"

Moore was cut off by a muffle of his own shock as I jutted my hips forward. I wasn't waiting for his instruction, his command. No. My mind was a singularity. I acted on the desire from my thick, proud member. The enviable appendage between my legs, rigid from prolonged excitement, slid between his two soft cheeks and forced itself into my father's quivering hole.

"AAAHHH," Moore cried out, his teeth grit together. He looked up and back at me, as well as he could, and grimaced.

My entire body trembled with the satisfaction of entering him. I could only go so far, before I was met with almost-unyielding resistance. Nearly half of my cock slid into my father, before the shock of my entry seemed to hit him. His body went rigid, and I felt a ripple of distressed muscle around my member as it was halted.

"Nate...Ahh," Moore made a sound that was half between a cough and a laugh. "My boy, this is...simply too much. I-I can't. I, o-ooohhhhh..."

The resistance wasn't compatible with the drive of my animal need to breed. I rumbled in dissatisfaction, and my sex-frenzied mind grasped for an explanation. I found my hands migrate to his waist. My fingers danced over soft skin as I stroked up and down his round midsection. It was a method to coax Moore into relaxed state. A remnant gesture from my previous life, perhaps. I felt my body lower towards him. My hard-muscled stomach pressed against Moore's arched, broad back.

My cock throbbed. In near the same instant, I felt the slow expanse of Moore's walls, which gradually adjusted to the intruder and permitted me another several inches. I longed for more, desired nothing less than my total horsehood inside of him. It would finally connect us at the deepest level. Eliminate any doubt that remained between us, progenitor and project.

Moore's whole body loosened in time with his deep lungful of air.

I felt the undulation of his guts as my member throbbed within him. I doused my Father in hot breath, my lips nearly kissing the back of his balding head. I felt the give of his walls, and I pushed my hips forward. I took a step, my right hoof now planted in front of Moore's foot.

Moans bellowed in tandem; my equine brays intertwined with Moore's sharp gasp of satisfaction as I finally managed to bury the last several inches of my dick into his eager hole.

"Nate...ohhhh, Nate..." He moaned, putty beneath me. "It's perfect..."

I felt Moore shift, and I looked down. One of his arms was folded, forearm pressed against the wall of the enclosure, where it bore a great deal of his weight. His forehead pressed hard against it, and his other palm in turn madly slid across the metal. Slick with sweat, it searched madly for a grip.

His broad back swelled towards me as he breathed. Arched beneath me, I could see the contours of aged muscle under the black hairs and rose-tinted skin. The small of his back rose to greet my member, and his two massive globes were spread almost unrealistically as the fur of my groin brushed against the topmost cleft of his rear.

"Mooooore," I rumbled. "F-faaaaatherrrrr. So...so good. I...love you. And I...I love to fuck you."

"My boy, y-you..." Moore stammered, his voice strained from exertion. He seemed to barely be keeping it together. "You have earned that right to fuck me, as you say. Wooed me, with your....your perfection. Your beastly beauty. Here I find myself, servant to my own creation. At the mercy of a being I brought into this world mere minutes ago. Nate, my boy, my_son_...do as you desire."

I cocked my head down at him, parsing through the breathy speech.

"FUCK ME!" Moore screamed.

I huffed in excitement. My lip curled into the approximation of a grin as I instinctively flashed my equine teeth. Ears flicked at Moore's words, and then pressed flat behind me. My hands were still wrapped firmly around my father's midsection. Now, at his order, I clenched my broad fingers tighter around his stomach. He audibly gasped, and then groaned as I followed up by pulling my member out.

I looked down, and squinted through heavy lids to see Moore's hole slightly pulled towards me, the lips of his ass wrapped thirstily around my member as I pulled out. In another second, when I could see nearly half of my cock between our bodies, I charged forward and drove it back in.

Moore screamed in pain, there was no mistaking it now. I thrust harder into him, my member crashed against his walls and seemed to stretch his passage to limits I was sure he couldn't have imagined. I was under no doubts that my father had never indulged in being fucked before--after all, he had many sons here, all of which I was certain were eager as I was to please him.

"O-ohhh fuck, it's...it's gigantic. T-too much, I...auuuuugh," He grunted. "No. My boy...! K-keep going. You must."

But he had never taken me. I had no way to be certain, but I doubted my brothers were as large as I was. They would pale in comparison, quiver before my massive body and godly cock. All I had to do was look at the man--the God--writhing beneath me.

I pistoned in and out of my father's steadily-widening hole, marveled at the sheer size and beauty of my own phallus whenever I could steal a glance. The power it held, and bestowed upon me; power to fuck like the king of beasts, the power to satisfy my Father and reduce him to strained sobs of pleasure.

My vision began to blur slightly, and I felt electrified pressure at the base of my cock. Spurned by the inevitability of climax, I forced myself to relent. I needed to prolong our session until I was truly ready to complete my task, which was...to breed? Yes. I used what few moments remained to rove my hands all over my father's supple masculine form.

Instinct took over. Not animal, or at least not entirely, but something I drew from a more human reservoir of memory. I reached down to the underside of Moore's torso. My fingers ran over the hairy girth of his chest. He shivered, and I could feel the full-body vibrations run down his body and squeeze around my thrusting cock. I cupped the doctor's pectorals and leaned over him as hot drool splashed on his backside.

My hands moved again, shifting towards Moore's groin. I reached down to cup his balls, which swayed from the force of our colliding bodies. My fingers migrated along his shaft. His endowment was thick and powerful, though of course nothing near the size of my own. At my touch, it became even harder. I moved my large fingers along the organ; traced the turgid, hot skin and gently squeezed the shaft in time with my thrusts.

My father gasped, and I felt Moore push back at me hard. He forcibly impaled himself against the full length of my cock. He belted a cry of pleasure, and I could sense the raw _longing_in his deep song. His rock-hard organ jumped with sudden force in my grip, and I coaxed a jet of white-hot semen out of its engorged tip. My father sighed in carnal bliss, his whole body wracked with trembles of pleasure. I felt his ass ripple several times in quick succession around my own member as his knees threatened to buckle.

"Nate...oh, Nate..." He sighed lustily.

There it was. I could once again feel the onset of my climax like a bolt of lightning in my loins. The need to breed threatened to subsume my mind, and the hot hole I was currently buried would serve. Something felt like a beat of my heart between my temples. I whinnied, momentarily distracted, before I recognized a small semblance of humanity creep back into my head. Cold realization stung me.

I could do it. I could end everything right here.

My Father--no, Dr. Moore--would never again ruin someone. Never again take another body for his own sick game at playing God out here in the middle of nowhere. It was too late for me. Too late for Scott. But if I could keep one more person out of his garden, out of his ironclad grip...

I closed my eyes, and felt my hands close around Moore's neck.

He gasped sharply as my massive digits threatened to close around his windpipe. No words--I wouldn't let him hypnotize me. I twisted with one hand, felt his head swivel. Not enough to kill, just to startle. Moore cried out in a tone that I could barely recognize. I used the opportunity to move one of my hands. I jammed two brutish fingers in his mouth, while the thumb pressed against the back of his skull.

"D-do it..." I rumbled. "I do it. M-Moore. Stop you. I could..."

My arms shook violently. My whole body followed. I nearly lost my balance, threatened to bring the two of us down in a heap on the ground. My dick, still buried into the mad doctor's hole, screamed for release. It was too much!

The decision was made.

And the beast won.

Moore inhaled a huge breath as my fingers left his mouth, and my hand drifted away from the base of his neck. He turned to look back at me, a furious expression on his bright red face, but he could only close his eyes and grunt as I ceaselessly fucked. My hands dropped around his shoulders, large thumbs tracing the movement of his shoulder blades. I whinnied, and thrusted hard. I closed my eyes, and failure was the furthest thing from mind.

Moore screamed. My tool locked fully in place, buried in his guts. My grip was firm, and I leaned forward. The weight, paired with me pressed down on his back, caused my Father to sink further forward and down to the ground. His legs bent, while his waist and ass remained at my level. I allowed him a few moments to have a soft landing, his arms braced against the floor and his fingers wrapped around loose straw.

"Now," I rumbled, "I fuck. I breed."

Before he had any time to respond, I pulled half of my length out of Moore's stretched hole. I pushed back in, harder than ever, and I threatened to buck Moore off balance. He held fast, and I repeated the motion. Pull out. Drive in.

I snorted, warm particulate flying into the musky air. My ears pressed flat back against my skull, and I fucked. I lost count of the thrusts, of driving in and pulling out, and simply maintained an instinctive rhythm.

I grunted and brayed in a beautiful duet with my father's indescribable cries. It was pain, it was pleasure; it was the sick joy of being fucked by your creation, the indignation at a narrowly-averted death, and the taboo of an animal's mind serving the throes of bliss.

In moments or minutes, perhaps an hour at my frenzied pace, I felt the hot eruption of seed from the tip of my cock. Buried deep in Moore's body, I could feel the blistering fluid fill every crevice and expand Moore's passages as my cock throbbed. A grand cry of satisfaction belted from my equine mouth. I wanted our bodies to lock like this, in this tandem, forever. A chill ran down my spine, and every small quiver of Moore's passage sent waves of terrible pleasure through my spent member.

"Ohhh...Nate, my boy, you...you fool. Nearly killed me, didn't you? But now," Moore murmured from below. "I'm no young man, a pounding like this...my legs, God, my ass...Step back, my son."

I obeyed. Clumsy on my trunk-like legs, I took a step back and felt my wet monster of a cock slide effortlessly out of Moore's hole. We sighed simultaneously, and I looked down to see rivulets of fluid flow from his twitching hole, wide from the intruder.

Moore stumbled forward, and I made a motion to catch him in strong arms. He braced himself on the wall in front of him, and I simply locked him in an embrace. Despite my father's broad figure, I dwarfed him. It felt right to hold him, to wrap him in my strong arms. The strength he created for me, would in turn support him. He melted back into me, and I bent my long snout down to gently nuzzle his bearded face.

"Nate, I..." Moore whispered.

I looked down at him. His face, flushed with exertion and dotted in sweat, looked so content in my embrace. I could sense something else though, a complex emotion that caused his brow to crease in concern. Moore let his head fall to the side, onto the crook of my forearm, and he took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, my boy," He said softly. "I pulled you into this world, into this kingdom that I have hand-crafted for myself. All you wanted was to pass through, to return to your family, and I..."

"Family..." I rumbled in response. "You family. My family now. Here."

"Yes," Moore said, even more emotion in his tone. "Yes. It is now, isn't it? You can never leave, in your state. Because of what I've done to you, what I've crafted you into. Compelled by my own pride, my desire to push boundaries. My own selfishness, maybe. From the moment I saw you, tall and strong, and so, so lost. I wanted you. Wanted your body."

I whinnied in response.

"Forgive the ramblings of a dangerous, deluded old man, my boy."

I nuzzled him again.

"...Yes," Moore cleared his throat, and began to un-twine himself from my embrace. "I doubt you'll remember much of this upon your regression. The first transformation is the most dramatic, and those neural connections have not, well...nothing you'd understand."

I stepped back, and Moore faced me. He was so beautiful, standing there in his proud nakedness. I wanted to will my cock hard again, to resume our love-making, but the organ hung down from my groin, flaccid and well-spent.

"...And, so close to killing me. Ending me could have seen you out of here. Perhaps you would have woken up, released your brothers, and simply forgot that this place ever existed. No one would utter the trigger phrase, and after a long while, years perhaps, of no follow-up serum, your genes would return to normal. Fully human once more."

My face was knit with confusion. What was he talking about? Human...?

"But you failed."

It was disappointing. A dull realization crossed my mind as Moore monologued. I felt loss, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying to me. My simple wants and needs were incompatible with the language and feelings that I retained from a previous life. I was built to be powerful, and to bring pleasure.That brought me pride. A pride that mirrored the way my father had beamed upon me taking my new face and form. I was not built for this long-winded explanation and self-introspection.

I stomped a foot in confusion.

"...Your regression has started, my boy," Moore said.

I huffed, and looked at myself. Arms spread wide, I felt a cold, numb sensation creep up my spine. It extended to my limbs, and then to every prick of hair on my body. I groaned in a combination of fear and fury--I didn't want this.

It was like being locked away, I knew. Shut in a lightless prison, where I had no hope to will myself free. The anticipation of those trigger words would haunt me.

My gaze shot hungrily to Moore. He could stop this, couldn't he? I lunged forward, took several heavy steps towards my Father.

Moore had put his shirt back on. He flinched reflexively, but otherwise didn't seem surprised at my sorry state. He looked into my eyes, and then shook his head sadly.

"Rest, Nate. I will see you again. After all, I need to have you penitent for your attempt on my life."

My eyes became heavy, and I wobbled unsteadily. I was shrinking, the rock-hard trunks that supported me moments prior had withered. Human pallor appeared on my deflating arms. I uttered one final bellow of despair, a death knell of my awakened self, as I sank to the ground. Sleep took its iron grip on my eyes, and I plunged into a raging sea of half-minded dreams.

• -

• -

"Shit..."

He balanced on the balls of his feet, back painfully arched into a hump. Hands were fast at work; they pulled and tugged, dancing from chain to gear. But the tensile force wasn't there. The barrel dropped off of its axle, and dangled pathetically against bent spoke. Broken.

Fingers slipped on a slick of mingled sweat and grease. A tangled mess of chain pinned his hand around a gear. Reflexively, unthinkingly, he yanked. A wedge of skin was cleanly shaved from in-between pointer and thumb. He stared shock-eyed at an almost imperceptibly small piece of connective machinery that popped out of the cassette at the same time his hand was freed. It rolled into gravel-colored dirt.

"It was so new," Henry sighed.

Injustice turned to anger, which had until this moment only been a slow simmer underneath his skin. As the blood ran its route down Henry's thumb, he stood up and stoked the fire. He pulled his leg back and kicked the bicycle.

Its kickstand did little to brace Henry's bike against the brunt end of his toe. Henry grunted as he felt the immediate thrum of pain; the impact shot through his thin, dirt-covered biking shoes. His bike did a half-spin, hit the ground, and then rolled another few meters before settling in a heap near a lopsided hay bale.

Henry looked around, near his feet. His travel gear--helmet, backpack, and side-bags--that attached neatly to the frame of his bike. They were lighter now than they had been earlier in the week. Harder to re-stock in this part of the country, which he hadn't anticipated. There didn't seem to be pit stops for miles, and it was becoming all-too-common for Henry to ride nearly all day before spotting a rinky-dink Gas-N-Go that haunted a lone stretch of highway. Not even a Sheetz.

'Shit, I'd settle for a freaking Wawa_at this point.'_

He picked up his helmet. The sweat seeping into its pads for the past hour had completely dried while Henry had fiddled with his bike's pieces. He reached down to pick up the water bottle from a slender utility bag. It was unpalatable, warm after so long in the sun, but he nonetheless aimed a steady stream between his parched lips.

"Didn't see anything on my way out here. Can't even get any bars out here," he tapped his phone, which was attached to his hip via a battery pack. Springing extra for the long-lasting charge did little good if your phone couldn't even pick up a 1X.

Henry deliberated pressing forward on his journey. He had already come so far. So damn far. A few miles on foot seemed like nothing after you reached the midpoint on your cross-country, post-graduation bike ride. Still, walking was much slower than riding.

It could be miles before Henry saw even the smallest pulse of life spring from these dusty old cornfields. How could a place be so flat and yet it was like navigating blind?

He squinted skyward. The sun would set soon. Henry considered the windbreaker tucked away in his blue bag, and his currently-meager rations sealed tightly in the green.

"I could walk until I get a signal," he reasoned out loud. "Would feel like an idiot calling my parents and telling them my new bike got wrecked and I'm stranded a thousand miles away, send aid please. Who could they even call? Like they'd have any long-lost Korean cousins out in Indiana."

It didn't take Henry long to mix-and-match the contents of his bag, color-coding be damned. Enough food, water, and useful supplies for a day or two of travel. Sleeping pad, jacket, and a change of clothes if push came to shove. Whatever wasn't deemed a primary resource could be recovered along with his bike and helmet when he found help.

He turned to look at the pile of bent and broken metal that had taken him so far away from school. Henry probably hadn't been more than ten feet away from his bike these last few weeks. It was like he leaving behind an arm or a leg.

Still, he made a decision. Trusted himself.

Henry walked. The cool evening breeze felt wonderful on his bare skin. He had removed the top piece of his cycling gear, which swirled like a cape behind him as it waved from his waist. Henry felt moisture wick away from his skin on dry Midwestern air. It was almost trance-like: the sound of his feet on road, rhythmic scratching of nylon bag against lycra shorts, the cackling of cicadas, and the rising roar of an engine--

"Holy shit," Henry exhaled sharply.

He did a reversal, and knees nearly gave out as he saw it in the distance. A large white truck, beat-up to be sure--but _working--_approached from the opposite direction. The smile that spread across his face nearly hurt as it pressed sun-stained skin. The bag dropped to his feet as both arms waved high and wide in an attempt to flag the vehicle down.

It only took a minute to approach. Henry breathed out a small, silent prayer as the truck slowed down. The engine still chugged along as driver put it in park. Henry couldn't make out much, and didn't know what to prepare for. He hadn't run into a full-hand count of outwardly friendly people while biking in this kind of rural back-country. Still, now wasn't the time to pass up a free ride. Didn't matter what kind of flag they were waving as long as that truck kept chugging along.

The door opened, and two boots hit solid ground. Henry saw a tall, well-built young man step around the outstretched door. The driver approached, and Henry suddenly felt a little exposed.

The guy had auburn hair, a face full of stubble, and his white tank top did little to hide a solid working man's build. Only his face belied age, and he didn't seem to be much older than Henry. Hell, he might have been even younger. Difficult to tell in the dim light of a setting sun.

"You don't know how happy I am to see someone out here," Henry said breathlessly.

"I can imagine," The driver said. He put his hands on his hips and seemed to be sizing Henry up. "Don't really see a lot of people around here. Just me and my family."

"I'm sure you have some place to be, I j-just," Henry stammered. It was strange, he had cycled through so many hypothetical situations just like this. Rehearsed what he would say. And now? A total loss in the presence of his savior. "Where are you going? I'm heading, well, anywhere would be fine. Can I...?"

"A ride? Sure thing. I was just heading back to my Father's place."

"Excellent," Henry beamed. "Thank you!"

The young man gestured to the passenger side of the truck. Henry picked up his bag, made sure he still had his phone tucked at his waist, and hurried to open the other door of the truck.

"I've been walking for miles. Didn't think anyone was even out here, you know? Sorry, my name is Henry," he added.

"Nice to meet you, Henry," The mysterious driver said with a polite smile. "I'm Nate."