FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

People always said that the city of Kios was built from magic. That its walls were borne of the will of the gods, and that its buildings and pathways were grown from living stone, not simply erected by the hands of mortals.

At least… that was what people said.

All that was known was that it was hot out today in the city of Kios.

The wind was nearly still and the sun was shining bright above the few thousand citizens going about their daily rituals. Adventures gathered in the city center to make plans for their next quest, and the market was thriving as vendors hurried to sell frozen food and snacks and even an ice-based item or spell, enticing the odd traveler who simply needed a reprieve from the punishing temperature.

Yet the city center, the armorers, and even the magic shops paled in comparison to the popularity of one vendor in particular.

“Order #65! Two loaves of dwarven ale bread and one lemon-drizzle pound cake!”

A stocky human man in an off-white apron was moving quickly behind the gently sloping counter of the small, rustic bakery, shouting over the din of the late afternoon rush.

His voice carried cleanly through the crowd in front of him, a few disappointed faces falling as a hand quickly rose above the heads of the gathered customers.

“That one’s mine!”

The baker nodded with a quick smile and handed the bundle of parchment-covered items across the counter, where a relieved looking human woman accepted it and began to scoot through the crowd towards the exit.

Wiping the back of his hand over his sweaty brow, the baker took a breath and glanced back at the order tally. A large wooden board propped up against the far wall was covered with dozens of small strips of paper, each one carrying the same hurried handwriting that detailed a single customer’s order.

The baker snapped his fingers and three of the strips suddenly zipped across the open space and into his hand. With a cursory glance at them, he turned on his heel and moved towards the heat of the ovens behind him. Again, he snapped his fingers and waved his hand towards his left as he reached for a lever next to the wrought iron doors of the ovens.

As he pumped the lever up and down, gusts of heated air breathed through the ovens, causing the heat inside to flare as the flames burned hotter. He peaked through slits in the doors and checked on the series of pies baking within, grinning at their progress.

The air blowing through the oven was filled with sparks of multicolored magic that flowed steadily across the pie crusts like a rushing river.

“Bit busy today, eh, Donny?”

A deep voice sounded behind the baker and he turned, finding a dark-furred minotaur wearing a beautiful maroon chiton and a simple belt with a ring of keys and some small tools attached to it. He towered above the crowd of waiting customers, which some might have found imposing were it not for his kind eyes clearly watching with amusement as the baker rushed around collecting materials for the three orders he was finishing.

“Hey, Theron!” Donny said cheerily, although he was slightly out of breath, “Yeah, it’s a bit hectic in here but I’m managing. You need to order something?”

He moved towards the windowed end of the bakery, waving his hand past the hovering strips of paper. As he did, each of the strips moved above the individual items listed on them, causing various pastries and loaves to float up from their stored locations, trailing beneath each paper.

Theron scratched the side of his muzzle as he continued to watch Donny work.

“Nah, not really… although, if you have any of those sweetcakes left, I could be convinced to order one. Or five. You know how my appetite gets sometimes.”

Donny laughed and nodded towards the minotaur with a knowing look.

“Do you mind waiting a few minutes? I need to finish up the rest of these first.”

Theron snorted with mock-annoyance and crossed his arms over his bulging, furry chest.

“I suppose I can spare the best baker in Kios a few minutes of my valuable time. But only because we’re friends and the fact that I simply couldn’t live with you and your sweets.”

Donny chuckled and glanced over each of the items hovering in front of the window. With a sharp nod, he tilted his head towards the counter. As one, they began to float towards the countertop, each led by their corresponding receipts.

He quickly spread three sheets of parchment paper across a long, steel preparation lane, and watched with a smile as the papers wrapped each bundle of items neatly together. With a practiced ease, he called out each order and handed them off to their customers before calling the next three orders over and restarting the process.

For the next few minutes, Donny flitted around the bakery filling order after order. As the board became less dense with strips of papers, the crowd that had gathered around the counter began to thin and the noise level dropped enough that Donny didn’t have to shout. A few minutes after that, most everyone had gone.

“Thank you so much, and please visit again!”

Donny waved to the final customer, a young female half-orc, who smiled back at him as she walked away with a bundle of blackberry tarts and honey bread.

The day had been another long one, with Donny’s prep work starting late the previous night proofing loaves and getting them set for a morning bake. And then of course, once morning came, he was up before the sun making sure everything was just so in his shop. It was a constant work in progress, although if you asked anyone in Kios, they’d tell you there was no question that the Bread and Breakfast was the best bakery for several leagues. People came from all over to stay at the adjacent inn for the night, and would eagerly begin queuing the next morning to be the first customers of the day.

Of course, the many well baked items weren’t the only reason Donny’s shop had garnered such a reputation. The local foot traffic helped, as did the consistent word of mouth. But Donny wasn’t simply following a recipe he’d come up with after years of dedication–although, he had indeed spent several years perfecting every single item on the menu.

No, the real reason for his success was his mastery of magical experimentation. He was able to weave the very elements of magic together and infuse them into his recipes. By weaving threads of complimentary magic together at the right time, he could imbue everything he made with more powerful scents, more unique textures, and could instill a noticeable potency of flavor. Everything he sold had a magical history attached to it, a traceable thread that bound the ingredients together and suffused them with an energy all of their own.

It was one of the reasons his recipe development took so long. He focused intently on matching the proper magic with the right recipe, and that sort of experimentation required a tedious amount of trial and error. The number of different mixtures and combinations he’d tried was breathtaking, and even when he thought he’d gotten something perfect, there was almost always a side effect he’d need to track down and mitigate.

Often these were small, insignificant effects that most people wouldn’t notice; a small change in height, a slight increase in luck, or, on one more extreme occasion, a change to his taste buds that made everything taste like cinnamon sugar. But Donny being the perfectionist that he was, couldn’t help but strive for the cleanest results possible. He only put an item on the menu when it was cleared of any effects and had satisfied his standards for taste, texture, and quality.

But of course, working so many days and nights in a row often left him utterly exhausted, let alone able to maintain much of life outside of his work. He’d made friends with a few adventurers and locals over the years, Theron and his crew being one such group, but he had little in the way of romance or relationships outside of the bakery.

He sighed with relief as he wiped his brow again and leaned against the counter, looking over at the minotaur’s grinning face.

“You gotta get someone to help you in here, my friend.”

Donny snorted, “Oh, is this you finally volunteering to be my assistant?”

Theron shook his head with a smirk, “You know I’m only good for eating food, not making it. Remember the one and only time I modified Oxbert’s mechanical parts to help me bake a pie for my last adventuring party? They were not happy that I ruined their dessert, especially after two days of clearing that massive dungeon.”

Donny glanced up at Theron as he wiped down the counter, “Oh, I’ll never forget it. That little machine of yours managed to not only completely burn that poor apple pie to a crisp, but it scorched its own furnace compartment, even though I specifically treated it with fire resistance magic. It’s a good thing you didn’t try it inside a building!”

He laughed as Theron shrugged and looked out the window, remembering his failed experiment with a sigh.

“Personally, I still think my modifications were actually pretty impressive. But yes, it did not produce a very good pie. Sadly, my cooking skills can’t hold a candle to yours, my friend.”

“Well,” Donny said, folding the damp towel in his hands, “Until I can find someone who cares as much as I do about making each and every recipe perfect, I’ll just keep working on my own. Really, I don’t mind. And once I refine my magic a bit more and trim out the excess from the order process, I should be able to keep up with demand no matter what time of day it is!”

Donny’s endless enthusiasm and cheerful attitude was infectious, and Theron couldn’t help but smile down at the smaller human.

“I believe you will, my friend! Now about those sweetcakes you mentioned…”

“Ah, right!” Donny nodded and snapped in the air.

Within a few seconds, a trio of glistening sweetcakes floated over to the counter. Theron’s thick tongue flicked out over his nose as his eyes widened at the sight, and he slid five bronze coins over the counter as Donny packaged the cakes up.

“Here you go, big guy.”

Donny handed the bundle over to the minotaur, who stuck his muzzle against the paper and took a long sniff, moaning as the light, sweet smell of the cakes wafted over him.

“I swear these things will be the death of me. Not that I’d mind.”

He glanced out the window, squinting as he determined how low the sun was getting in the sky.

“Ah, unfortunately my friend, I’d better be going! The party is meeting up shortly to go over our next adventure. Many thanks again, Donny.”

He went to turn towards the door before stopping short and looking back.

“Nearly forgot to ask: has that handsome satyr you’ve been gushing about stopped by again?”

Donny felt his face flush with embarrassment at the question, and his fingers suddenly found themselves twisting around the tassels of his apron.

“N-no! I mean, not for a few days now. But he’s probably busy and… he’s only come in once anyway. I don't even know his name. And I haven’t been gushing about him!”

“Oh man, you’ve got it bad. I can tell.” Theron laughed as Donny’s face turned even more red. He sniffed the air once, then twice, looking over at the human. He tilted his head curiously and sniffed again, thinking for a moment before winking slyly. “I don’t think that’s just sugar in the air, my friend. You’ll have to tell me when you see him next. I’m so curious who could’ve captured your attention, other than me of course.”

Donny rolled his eyes, “Get out of here you big oaf. Do whatever you adventurers do after dark. Go fool around with Nico! And not in public this time!”

Theron snorted and reached between the folds of his much too short chiton, openly scratching a noticeable bulge in his loincloth. Donny felt his cheeks heat up slightly before the minotaur caught his eye.

“No promises–though do let me know if you ever want to join! Thanks again, Donny!”

With a flick of his tail, the minotaur turned and walked out of the bakery, ducking his head slightly as he passed through the doorway.

Donny smirked to himself as he continued to clean up the counter, checking the floor to see if it needed sweeping. A few moments passed before he heard the magical chime of someone passing back through the doorway and he shook his head as he turned to reach for the broom behind him.

“Back already, big guy?”

“Uh… well, I guess so?”

Donny froze for a moment.

That definitely wasn’t Theron’s voice.

He looked up and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. A satyr was standing just a few feet in front of the counter.

The satyr.

Donny practically swooned.

What were the odds? The gods must have been smiling down on him today.

The satyr stood taller than Donny, maybe around six feet or so. His skin had a deep olive coloring underneath the shade of a slight tan, although much of it was covered with a mix of thick, dark brown body hair and fur that grew over the deep ridges and wide span of his large, bulging muscles.

He wore only a simple loincloth around his beautifully brown-furred hips for modesty, although it left little to the imagination. A few beaded and jeweled bracelets and necklaces adorned the rest of his body which was bared to the world, and more specifically, Donny. His glossy, dark gray horns curled perfectly around his long, goat-like ears which twitched slightly, and his hooves made soft thumps with each step against the floor of the bakery.

If an artist ever wanted to sculpt the ideal satyr into marble, Donny would have suggested that they reference him.

He watched as the handsome satyr walked up to the counter and crossed his arms over his hairy chest. A bemused smile was etched onto his bearded face as he waited for a response.

Donny stared into his stunning hazel eyes and then immediately began to stutter a hasty reply.

“Oh, gods, I’m so sorry! I thought… I thought you were another customer of mine! Welcome to Bread and Breakfast! Again! Because I’ve um… you’ve been in here before, I believe.”

The satyr laughed, the deep, rich sound flowing like butter around the small room. He smiled widely at Donny and tilted his head in the most adorable way, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, I guess you get a lot of regulars around here. Sorry I’m not one of them yet. Although, I’m not sure what constitutes a ‘regular’ in your mind.”

“I… uh, I guess…” Donny bit his lip and shrugged, his hands gripping the edge of the counter tightly as his face burned with a sudden blush, “I definitely remember you from… last week. S-so long as you promise to keep coming back, I can consider you a regular. But usually I, uh, would need to know what to, um… what to call you.”

The satyr flashed that gorgeous smile again, tilting his head to the other side slightly, his long, furry ears bouncing with the movement.

“Guess I made a good impression if you remember me. My name is Kolis, but you can call me Kol.”

“Kol.” Donny nodded quickly, committing the name to memory, “Kol… it’s nice! Uh, it’s very nice to meet you! Again! In my bakery!”

Kol laughed again and nodded, “Likewise! I couldn’t stay away after I tried a slice of your Goodberry pie. Something about it just… stuck with me. And you were so impressive to watch, handling all those orders at once while using magic the whole time. I figured I’d try and catch you again when it was less busy, so here I am!”

Donny gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “Here you are! Yeah, you are… here. Oh, gods, I’m so sorry, do you want to try anything else? It’s near closing time for me but a few things are still fresh. Or, um, I could make you something if you want. Might just take uh… a bit longer.”

Kol placed his hands on the counter, a few inches away from Donny’s as the taller creature leaned forward and looked over at the window display. Donny’s eyes widened at the sudden closeness, the scent of the satyr reaching him through the smells of the bakery.

It was a mix of so many things all at once. Treebark, thyme, summer flowers; there were hints of a dozen other things Donny was sure he could identify if he wasn’t so busy letting his eyes roam over the satyr’s face.

Age was hard to pin down for fae creatures, but Kol looked like a human in his late 20s. Though as a being infused with magic, he could very well have been over 100 and no one would ever know.

Age be damned, Donny found himself staring at the most handsome creature he’d ever laid eyes on, completely intoxicated by the sight of him. Satyrs and their magic tended to make people feel a bit relaxed, especially while drinking. But Kol had a boyish charm to him, and his smile felt like it lit up the entire room when it showed.

And now, Donny never wanted to go without seeing it again.

The satyr looked at him and shook his head, his voice clear and strong and warm.

“Oh come now, I wouldn’t ever wish to prolong your work day any further. What’s something you have on hand that you’d recommend?”

Donny nodded slowly before he realized Kol had again asked him a question. He blinked and then looked around, his eyes landing on one item in particular.

“Well… I’ve been working on a new cake recipe that I can’t seem to get the magic right for. It’s a bit infuriating actually, but I’m so close to nailing it down. As for what you might enjoy… How about a chocolate almond croissant? It’s my mother’s recipe. They’re not one of the more popular items I sell, and I don’t use magic to make them but, well, I really adore their flavors.”

“I’ll have one of those, then!”

Donny nodded and went to snap his fingers, but stopped short. Instead, he walked over to the window, reached down, and grabbed one of the croissants. Glancing out the window, he took a breath to try and steady himself.

He turned and carried it back to the counter where he hand wrapped it in parchment paper.

Slowly, he lifted it up and held it for the satyr to take from him.

“No charge for a regular. Plus it might be stale, so…”

Kol took the offered package and carefully unwrapped it. He examined the intricate folds of the pastry, his eyes flicking to Donny’s for a second before he took a bite. He closed his eyes and gave a soft sigh as he slowly smiled while chewing. He chewed the bite a bit more and then swallowed, looking right back at Donny.

“That… was truly delicious. Normally only satyr wine tastes that potent to me but, Donny, this is something else.”

The blush across Donny’s cheek felt like it doubled as he tried his best to graciously accept the compliment.

“Thank you but, really, I’m just following my mother’s recipe. And I know it’s much better when it’s freshly made so–”

Kol held the pastry up to Donny, nodding towards it.

“Take a bite.”

“I…” Donny hesitated and then sighed, leaning forward and taking a bit from the offered snack.

The taste bloomed across his mouth in an instant, revealing a potent sweetness that wasn’t overpowering but simply felt like the balance of the recipe had been perfected. He stilled for a moment and let the pleasurable sweetness wash over him as he enjoyed the fruits of his labor.

As he swallowed, the satyr moved even closer, their lips just a few inches from each other. He froze as Kol seemed to lean in, Donny’s breath hitching for a moment, before the satyr raised his hand and drug his thumb slowly over the edge of the human’s lip.

“You had a crumb stuck. Sorry.”

Kol’s voice was soft and the room was quiet, like someone had cast silence and they were the only beings around for miles.

“Th… thanks,” Donny whispered.

The satyr looked at Donny for a moment, sniffing softly and tilting his head in a curious manner, just as Theron had. For a moment Donny was worried that he smelled awful after a long day, but Kol sniffed once more and then gave him a small smile. He leaned back from the counter and stood up to his full height, towering over Donny.

“Thank you for the generous gift, Donny. Again, it was wonderful and I’m glad I finally got your name.”

Donny leaned away from the counter as well, feeling the moment between them had passed too quickly.

He nodded his head respectfully.

“Oh, of course! And please, feel free to come visit any time. I… do love seeing my regulars.”

One of the satyr’s ears flicked as he laughed softly, almost to himself. He paused and looked Donny over once more.

“I’d like to see you again as well. How about tomorrow?”

Donny smiled and gestured widely, “Of course! Any time!”

“How about tomorrow night at The Chipped Horn, once you close down for the night?”

Donny’s eyebrows went up in surprise as he looked up at Kol.

The Chipped Horn was a satyr tavern with a particularly… lurid history. It sat on the edge of Kios, near one of the larger satyr groves within the surrounding forest. All were welcome, but it was usually only those with a penchant for particularly intimate experiences that ventured there for the night.

And satyrs were always willing to give that and more to those who sought it.

At least, that’s what Donny had heard.

“I… I’ve never been there. And oh, gods, I’m so flattered that you’d ask me! But, uh, am I… well, I suppose I have to ask why… me?”

The satyr chuckled and shrugged, “Well, you’re a handsome, talented man. I could tell that from the first time I walked into your bakery. But you’re different, too. I’m not sure what it is but you smell… special to me. There’s something in the air around you. Satyrs sometimes have a sense for these kinds of things. I hope that’s alright to say.”

Donny was at a loss for words. This satyr, this towering image of a strong, masculine fae creature thought he was… special? And what did he mean about the air?

“You’re the second person to say that to me today. I’m… I’m just a baker.”

“Maybe.” Kol nodded for a moment, “But I think there’s something much greater to your story. Maybe we can find out what it is together. If you want to.”

He paused and then added, “Or I could simply remain a loyal customer and we leave it at that.”

Donny glanced out the window at the setting sun for a few seconds. He looked over at Kol who was still staring back at him with that almost infuriatingly brilliant smile.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“I’ll… meet you there tomorrow night. It’s a date!”

The satyr’s smile got even bigger and brighter somehow and Donny could feel the excitement rushing through his own body.

“Yes, it’s a date indeed! Ah, Donny, you’ve no idea how happy I am! I could kiss you right now.”

Donny, feeling a surge of confidence the likes of which he’d never experienced before, leaned forward towards the taller satyr.

“I’d like you to! If… if you don’t mind.”

Kol’s eyes widened for a moment, thrilled at the prospect. With an almost practiced ease, he leaned over the counter.

Once again, their lips were mere inches away from each other, only this time… the distance finally closed and they connected.

Donny felt the satyr’s velvety soft lips brush against his own, warm breath flowing over and mixing with his own as he leaned fully into Kol, pressing their mouths firmly together. His thick beard rubbed softly against Donny’s smooth skin, almost tickling in the most pleasant manner.

The kiss felt like sweet fire, tingling over Donny’s entire body as it deepened ever so slightly.

Something about kissing this satyr did feel different. It was somehow more right, in his mind, as if he’d been missing something his whole life and only just now realized it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the two pulled away, eyes gazing deeply into each other. The satyr wet his lips as he sighed with happiness.

“I certainly didn’t mind. I hope you didn’t either.”

Donny giggled and then blushed even harder than before, wiping his brow as he stepped back and took a breath.

“I’ve… never done anything like that before, and especially not here. But… maybe I should fix that.”

“We can do whatever you’d like, but let’s wait for tomorrow night. As soon as you’re done here, come straight to the Chipped Horn. I’ll be there when you arrive.”

Kol grinned down at Donny before he reached for the human’s hand, bringing it up to his lips and giving it a soft kiss. Then, with an instinctual grace, the satyr stepped towards the exit, hooves tapping softly on the floor. He watched the human staring back at him for a moment, shook his head in wonder, and waved goodbye.

Donny watched him go and the room seemed to dim with his absence. He reached up and touched his lips, still tingling softly from the kiss.

“Gods… today was a good day.”

He leaned on the counter, laying his head upon his folded arms and imagining the satyr was still here, standing across from him. Things like this simply didn’t happen to him, but he wasn’t one to disregard luck or fate when it chose to shine down on his little life.

A warmth began to blossom in his chest, an exciting thrill thrumming in his stomach.

He had a date.

Smiling to himself, he leaned back and shook his arms out a few times, trying his best not to get overly excited.

With a wide wave of his hand, he weaved his magic and tidied up the bakery. At once, crumbs floated off the floor and into a large waste basket, along with all of the now old and stale items from earlier in the day. In the same few moments, all of his kitchen tools and pots and pans and platters were instantly cleaned by magic and organized exactly where he preferred them in a large cupboard along the far wall.

The only things that were left out were a large mixing bowl, a few wooden spoons and spatulas, and several smaller measuring cups.

“Alright.” Donny clapped and rubbed his hands together eagerly. He looked down at the arranged items in front of him and furrowed his brow.

“I’m finally going to figure you out, you damn cake.”

Donny had been working diligently on a new cake recipe for two arduous months. It was the longest he’d ever spent trying to crack a recipe open and unleash its full potential. But now, with his mind eagerly anticipating his date with Kol tomorrow night, he set himself to making something that was meant especially for the satyr.

Kol had said that there was something special about Donny. He wasn’t sure why the satyr thought that, or even what about himself could be so special in the first place, but the one thing Donny knew he was good at was creating things that other people loved.

And he wanted the satyr to love this thing most of all.

So he got to work.

Collecting ingredients from his large store room in the back of the bakery, he set about making three separate versions of the cake. Each one was a variation on the basic recipe he’d refined over the last two months, differentiated by using a handful of individual ingredients that he hoped would produce the flavors he’d been searching for.

Slowly, over the course of the next hour or so, he carefully measured, mixed, folded, and poured the three different cake batters into three separate tins lined with parchment paper and greased with butter.

At once, he opened the door to the furnace and fueled the dying flames with the lever, adding more logs of dried wood to the dwindling embers underneath the large, flat baking stone. As the wood started to catch and the flames grew more intense, he placed each of the three cake tins in a row in the center of the stone.

Donny watched them for a moment and then, reaching out and closing his eyes, opened himself to the weave of magic around him. Different recipes called for different threads of magic to increase and improve various aspects of whatever he was trying to create. A lot of it was pure instinct for him, choosing what to incorporate and utilize. But instinct wasn’t an exact science and he hoped that this time, his gut leading him down the right path.

Magic sparked from his fingertips, brilliant multicolored lights of energy shooting into the furnace and swirling around the three cakes. A few moments later, he severed the connection and closed the oven door, careful not to disturb the flow of the air.

And then he waited.

The minutes passed by so slowly, as they had every evening for the past several weeks of experimentation. But eventually, after half an hour, he could smell that the cakes were ready to be removed so they could cool on the wire racks he’s prepared.

But eventually, with the sun having fully sunk beneath the horizon and darkness enveloping Kios, Donny looked across the counter at three nearly identical cake layers. The general smell was one of sweet vanilla, although as he leaned in and sniffed each one, he could detect the different ingredients he’d added to each.

Carefully, he carved three small slices, laying them out in front of their respective layers. All of them had baked through perfectly, and the crumb looked as good as anything Donny sold to his customers on a daily basis. But it always came down to taste.

Three bites, one of each slice, was all it would take to determine if he’d succeeded.

With a huff, Donny held up the first slice and bit into it. Instantly, he knew it was wrong. The flavors, while sweet, had a sharp metallic tang mixed into them, causing him to spit the bite out into a rag he had at the ready.

The second slice was somewhat better, carrying none of the bitter, metallic flavors of the first. But in its place, a fiery blast of sweet heat rushed over Donny’s tongue, causing him to cough as he reached for the rag and spat out the piece once more. He actually quite liked spicy flavors, but within the sweetness of the cake it just felt entirely wrong.

As the heat began to ebb and fade away, he took a shaky breath, looking over at the third cake with trepidation. Carefully, he picked up the slice and took one last bite.

He chewed for a few moments, considering everything his taste buds were telling him. That same sweet vanilla flavor was very much at the forefront, and it was complemented by a combination of sugar beet molasses and just a small hint of cinnamon that he had added at the last minute.

He swallowed the bite this time.

It was good. Very good, actually.

But it still wasn’t perfect.

He sighed and sat down on a small stool, rubbing his forehead and staring at the third cake.

This was the closest he’d gotten to cracking the secret of the recipe, but he knew he was still missing something; the final few pieces of the puzzle seemed to elude him no matter what he managed to figure out.

With a glance out of the window from his seat, he knew that it was getting later than he’d realized. But something about this recipe still nagged at him. He felt like if he was ever going to get it right, it needed to happen tonight.

Leaning back his head and groaning, he stood up from the stool and walked into his large storeroom near the back of the bakery.

The room itself was larger than a simple closet, its high walls covered with racks filled with neatly organized ingredients that Donny had managed to procure over the years. He had everything from spices, herbs, and nuts to dried meats, jarred preservatives, and seeds of every kind. Everything was magically stored in such a way that it would take decades for any one ingredient to go bad or stale, a process that had taken Donny ages to figure out.

But it had been worth it for him and his customers.

Donny cast his gaze around the room, looking for anything that might spark his interest. He had over 1000 different ingredients to choose from, and his mind whipped through them all like a catalog as his sight passed over each label.

Minutes passed with nothing coming to his mind.

Closing his eyes, Donny stood still, trying his best to let fate guide him towards what he needed. It wasn’t often that he felt truly lost, but something about this night in particular seemed… well, fateful.

He opened his eyes and saw what they landed on.

“Hmm.”

Donny tilted his head and walked forward, crouching down and reaching out towards one of the magically sealed woven bags. With a wave of his hand, the top of the bag opened and he reached inside.

“Oats.”

He let the word hang in the air around him, considering them for the recipe. He’d always imagined a mix of sweet vanilla and something else. Something… earthy, something that had potential to grow. The protein and sweetness of the oats would certainly mix well with the vanilla and cinnamon once they were ground down well enough. But his mind told him there was one more thing missing.

Glancing over to his right, he saw a small freestanding cabinet filled with bottles of seeds, each one labeled and detailing when the seeds inside were stored. Leaning over, Donny once again let fate decide for him, picking a small drawer at random and pulling out a container of sweetgrass seed.

Donny bit his lip in thought. Normally, sweetgrass, when grown, was true to its name and gave off a sweet, hay-like taste that could often be used to enhance things like poultry. But it wasn’t often used in baking. He frowned and looked back at the bag of oats.

“Maybe… both are combined and ground into a powder? I could mix that into the wet ingredients before adding the dry ones.”

His mind began to work out the details and suddenly, he was walking back to the main counter. Quickly grabbing a mortar and pestle, he started to grind the oats and the sweetgrass seeds together until they were both a fine, light brown powder.

He quickly threw the other cakes away and magically cleaned the tins, saving one for his final attempt. After another twenty minutes or so, he had recreated the third cake’s recipe, only this time, he’d added the powdered mixture of oats and sweetgrass seed before thickening the batter.

To his nose, the scent of the cake batter was mostly the same as his first attempt, other than a slight hint of earthy freshness that reminded him somewhat of being near the farm he’d grown up on.

Suddenly, Donny felt a great comfort wash over him as that distant memory remained in his mind. His anxiety seemed to slip away as he poured the batter into the empty tin and slid it into the oven.

The magic would have to take care of the rest.

Closing his eyes once more, Donny spread his hands and reached out, letting the magic flow down through his spread fingers.

Only this time… it felt less like he was channeling the weave itself, and more like it was channeling him. It seemed to almost move through him and he felt a sudden rush of energy, boundless and powerful, flooding throughout his entire body and then down his fingertips, flowing into the oven like a river.

The usually multicolored sparks seemed more focused now. Their colorful hue shifted from blue, to red, and finally a rich, earthy brown that then infused directly into the batter. Donny opened his eyes, watching in wonder as this new magic settled into every inch of his cake, imbuing it with power.

With a sudden groan, Donny severed the connection and closed the oven door. Magic, especially wild magic like this, was often unexpected in its power and unknowable in its capacity to manipulate, even with the years of experience he had.

Breathing heavily, he stood in front of the oven and tried to calm himself. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before, and he wondered if he had accidentally spoiled the recipe with an overabundance of something he couldn’t easily control. He glanced at the iron door warily, sitting down on his stool as his breathing returned to normal.

For now, there was nothing to be done but wait once again.

Half an hour passed, followed by another twenty minutes after Donny removed the cake from the oven and let it cool on the wire rack.

And then, finally, it was time.

With a slightly shaky hand, Donny carved out a small sliver of a slice from the warm cake. As before, the interior crumb was perfectly yellow and light, surrounded by a light brown edge.

But the smell wafting off of it was what stood out to him as truly divine. Donny’s mouth watered as the sweet, fragrant scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and oats flowed around him like some sort of delicious pheromone.

He reached out and took the small slice, holding it up to his nose and sniffing deeply.

It was like the essence of each ingredient had been distilled and enhanced to its most perfect, most beautiful potential.

Without hesitation, he took a bite.

The second he softly bit into the slice, it seemed to tingle. His mouth was suddenly enraptured with the flavors he’d smelled, only they were a hundred times more wonderful on his tongue. It was sweet ambrosia, it was warm butter and vanilla, and it was the spark of cinnamon and the tang of molasses and the earthy evenness of oats and grass all mixed together in the most glorious combination.

Donny shuddered as he swallowed the bite, savoring those flavors as best he could.

But he couldn’t resist.

He wanted another bite. And then another. And another.

And soon, the small slice was gone.

Donny giggled to himself. He wasn’t usually one to overindulge in his own bakes but… this was different.

He’d finally figured it out! And it was utterly glorious.

Kol would love it, he just knew.

With a massive sigh of relief, Donny took in the sight of the small cake for a moment, reveling in his success.

Then slowly, he began to package up the rest of it and clean what was left of the dirty dishes on the counter in earnest. Magic being his saving grace, he was out of the bakery and heading home in a matter of minutes, walking down the darkened thoroughfare of Kios’ Main Street as he held his wrapped cake with both hands.

Only tonight, he had a spring in his step that hadn’t been there for over two months.

So far, he noticed that there were no untoward effects after eating the small slice. He had several spells of protection cast on himself for that very reason but none of them had been triggered. So by all accounts, he was in the clear.

His cake was perfect.

And he was meeting up with the most handsome satyr he’d ever seen the very next evening.

He looked up at the stars twinkling overhead and began to hum a tune from a song he used to sing when he was growing up on the farm. The warm notes echoed around the deserted expanse of the market square as he continued on towards his home.

Nothing could be better than this.

“Nmmff…”

Donny cracked open an eye blearily as the dim glow of the morning sun warned of the coming day.

After years of early rising to get his bakery started on time for the morning rush, Donny’s body had acclimated well to the schedule he’d set. Today was no exception and he sighed as he sat up in his bed, yawning widely before rubbing his eyes.

Glancing outside, he saw the steadily growing sunlight at the edge of Kios’ border and stood up, letting the soft linen sheets fall from his body. Kios’ climate tended to be on the cooler side, even during the summer months, and Donny was used to being wrapped up in his sheets for warmth.

But this morning, he realized he felt a bit warmer than usual. He ran a hand over his bare chest, noticing that his sparse dusting of body hair felt a bit damp. But as he looked himself over further, his eyes widened at what he saw.

For one, his chest hair seemed… different somehow. Like there was more of it, concentrated between his pectorals. It flowed steadily down his stomach in a treasure trail that he never remembered having before, and then thickened considerably as it reached his groin, where a very prominent erection was throbbing between his thighs.

“Gods…” Donny stared in wonder at his stiff morning wood.

It looked the same as it always had but it felt… harder than it had ever been before. He reached down to grasp it in his hand and nearly fell back onto his bed at the shock of buzzing pleasure that raced down his length.

He gasped and moaned softly to himself as he rubbed his hand over his leaking tip, smearing precome along the head and shaft as he continued to pleasure himself.

Donny was no stranger to sex, and certainly wasn’t shy about giving into his body’s needs when they made themselves known. But for some reason, he felt absolutely desperate for release this morning, as if his body had gone without it for weeks on end.

His hand sped up as it stroked his engorged shaft and he lifted his legs up towards his chest, leaning fully back onto his bed and exposing his backside to the cool morning air. He could practically feel his balls churning with seed as he moaned louder and louder, nearing his limit. His cock felt bigger in his hand and he swore he could feel it growing in his grasp.

An image of Kol’s hand rubbing over his shaft popped into his head suddenly, the satyr’s warm tongue flowing into his mouth as they kissed deeply.

With a drawn out shout, Donny felt a blast of pleasure surge through his body as he came, his cock spurting shot after shot of thick, white cum along his chest and stomach. He thrusted his hips along with each pulse, his free hand rubbing back and forth along his slickened chest as he continued to milk his length.

The pleasure seemed to last longer than Donny thought possible, and his body was practically singing with relief as his pulsing cock finally began to soften in his hand. He breathed heavily, leaning his head back onto his pillow and looking down at himself.

He was a mess of sweat and cum, yet all he could do was smile contentedly at his work.

He felt… good. Really good.

It was as if his body had nothing to complain about this morning, like all of the minor annoyances–the random aches and pains and anxieties of his adult life–had all simply vanished after his release.

He layed in his bed a few minutes longer than he knew he should’ve, but something about this morning seemed to signal to him that the day was going to be a good one, and that he needn’t worry unduly.

Slowly, he sat up again and put his feet on the floor as he looked down. His chest and stomach were still absolutely coated with his spent seed, and his cock, while softened, still seemed to have life in it. It twitched between his legs, the shaft’s skin slick with cum as he watched it curiously for a moment, wondering if he could possibly go again….

Shaking his head, Donny rose and heated the water in his wash basin. Soon he was scrubbing himself all over with his favorite lavender and vanilla scented soap, being sure to clean his seemingly hairier body as well as he could manage.

As he scrubbed, he questioned his body’s changes. The only thing he’d eaten differently yesterday was the cake, but even then, he knew he’d casted warding spells on himself the previous morning. It would have to be incredibly powerful, potent magic in order to affect him physically like this through the wards.

Tilting his head forward, Donny pulled a drawstring hanging next to his basin and a flow of steaming hot water started to gently rain down on him, washing away the suds he’d worked up.

Donny had never been incredibly fit, or lean, and was neither massively overweight or over muscled. His body was built for his own comfort. There was a fair amount of pudge and softness to him that complimented his good-natured personality and kindly manner. Others may have been keen to build up their own bodies into pillars of strength, but Donny had always been happy with the way he looked.

He smiled as he glanced down at his body, rubbing his hands over his soft belly and up and down his love handles as the hot water cascaded down on him. As it finally slowed, he sighed contentedly and grabbed a towel.

Once he was dry, he threw on a pair of trousers and a shirt, conjuring up a mirror to fix his sandy blond hair as best he could.

Normally he wasn’t quite so thorough with his appearance, but the thought of his date with Kol later on made him giddy with anticipation and he wanted to look his best. Scratching lightly at his elbow, Donny finished preparing himself with a brush of his teeth and a spritz of sweet smelling cologne he saved for special occasions. It might not make it through his entire day of work, but maybe the satyr would still be able to smell it later on.

Within a few minutes, he was out the door and heading towards the bakery as the sun began to fully crest the horizon. As he walked through the market square, he realized that his legs and chest felt… itchy.

In fact, he felt a bit itchy all over.

Scratching idly as he stepped by some other vendors setting up their shops, he tried his best to ignore the sensations and focus on the day’s work he had ahead.

Finally, he arrived at the bakery and he unlocked the magically sealed entryway, triggering his preset spells to automatically begin setting out all of the stands, cutlery, ingredients, and other items he would need to get started. He dug his hand through the neckline of his shirt, scratching hard as his chest to stop the now constant itching there while he went around the room and finished prepping.

An hour later, he was ready to open, although the itching across his body had only gotten worse and now a knot of discomfort seemed to have settled in his lower back. He winced as he greeted the first series of customers through the door, where a small line had already started to form.

For the first several hours of the morning and into the early afternoon, Donny was able to maintain his composure and diligently serve the steady flow of customers. Whenever he was fully engaged in his work, concentrating on fulfilling orders and constantly moving, the itching would fade into the background.

But his mind slowly began to wander as the hours passed, his body working automatically as he dealt with regulars and newcomers alike, always smiling and warm to each and every person.

It was just a mask though. On the inside, he was imagining Kol; the satyr was so incredibly handsome and the thought of meeting him at the Chipped Horn later that night made his heart practically ache in his chest, although maybe that was just the constant itching he felt.

Donny handed the last customer in front of him, a large male minotaur with a beautiful black coat of fur, his order. The lunch rush was finally over and Donny was about to take a much needed break.

As the giant bull grabbed the bag, his large fingers pressed softly against Donny’s.

Suddenly, the human gave a small shudder and tried to stifle a moan as he stepped back. He couldn’t quite stop himself though, and a sort of keening whimper sounded from his mouth.

The minotaur paused, his eyes wide as he looked down at the diminutive human baker in front of him. Donny bit his lip as a wild pleasure coursed through him, lingering longer than he could explain. He scrunched up his eyes for a moment and then gasped softly, looking up at the minotaur in wonder.

“Oh, gods, I’m–I’m so sorry, sir. I’m not sure–” Donny started before the minotaur snorted and began to chuckle, his eyes looking the human up and down slowly.

“It’s no bother,” he said, his deep voice filling Donny’s head like a song. “Thanks for the bread. But, ah, well, if you ever need a hand with… anything in particular, I’ll be sure to come ‘round again.”

“You’re… you’re welcome! But, sorry, what do you mean exactly?” Donny still felt the pleasure thrumming inside his body still, although the worst of it seemed to have abated for now.

The minotaur looked at Donny knowingly, and then cast his gaze downward, pointedly looking at the human’s crotch before looking back up at him and winking.

“I best be gettin’ back home. But I do certainly hope you deal with that… mighty large problem at some point.”

As the Minotaur exited the store with a rich chuckle, Donny glanced down.

His trousers were tenting out in front of him obscenely, containing yet another mighty erection between his legs. There was even a damp spot forming, growing larger with each passing second and every beat of his heart.

“Oh gods–” Donny felt his legs nearly buckle with embarrassment, but he managed to maintain his composure enough to look around the shop.

Luckily, the rush was over and the shop was empty, although it wouldn’t be for much longer. Donny took a step forward to make his way around the counter towards the entrance to close it, but as he moved, his trousers and small clothes shifted and rubbed against his now extremely prominent erection.

He gasped as if the wind was knocked out of him, not by a fall or a hit but by sheer force of pleasure. He thrusted his hand out to catch the edge of the counter and put his weight on it, breathing heavily as a flop sweat broke out over his whole body. He could hear voices just outside the entrance, worry suddenly flooding through him alongside the intense pleasure.

He quickly collected himself as best he could and snapped his fingers, gesturing towards the entrance. The door closed shut tightly and locked, leaving him alone in the bakery. The spell had even managed to flip the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’ to keep any potential customers away.

Turning slowly, he looked back towards the window and gestured with his hand again, watching with relief as the drapes along the side of the window were pulled across. The sunlight dimmed in the small bakery, leaving Donny standing in the center of the room with a massive tent in his pants, breathing heavily.

He took a step and winced at the sensation of his clothes rubbing over his body. It wasn’t just his engorged shaft that was sensitive now. It was every follicle of hair, every pore of his skin that seemed to light up with an intense sensitivity that was quickly followed by a rush of genuine bliss.

He gasped again as he moved towards the store room, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what exactly was happening. He managed to fumble his way into the smaller room, gritting his teeth tightly as he tried to be absolutely still.

The less he moved, the less he felt, he figured.

But it seemed like even his own breathing was triggering this endless cycle of sensitive pleasure, and he groaned as he felt his nipples harden underneath his shirt with every breath he took. Quickly, he pulled the linen shirt off and tossed it to the ground, standing half naked as he looked at himself, feeling his chest with roaming hands.

He’d changed yet again, this time even more noticeably than when he’d woken up. His chest hair was thicker… much thicker, almost like fur. As he glanced over himself, he saw that tufts of that same fur were now steadily growing downward towards his groin.

He moaned deeply, his body signaling to him that something big was about to happen.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to sneeze and he scrunched his nose up, leaning back as the rush of air left him. But as it did, he felt an itching, pulling sensation from the inside of his nose and mouth, like they were growing outward. He reached up and felt around, going cross-eyed as he tried to look for a difference.

Something had definitely changed. He licked around his mouth with what felt like a thicker tongue rubbing over… bigger teeth.

Everything seemed so strange to him now, although his changing body had already begin compensating for these changes.

He wet his lips and realized that his teeth, his mouth, and indeed his tongue were all larger and had started to extend outward more than usual. His teeth in particular seemed to have flattened somewhat, and fit nicely within his now larger maw.

In fact, he touched a hand to his nose and realized it was longer and wider as well. He sniffed again, hoping another sneeze wasn’t coming on. But as he did, his mind was suddenly filled with a potency of scents the likes of which he’d never experienced.

He stiffened as the myriad scents within the storeroom floated right through him all at once, and his mind cataloging and differentiating between each of them instantaneously.

He could practically taste the smells on his larger, longer tongue.

Cardamon. Thyme. Garlic. Wheat flour. Poppy seeds. Raspberries. Blueberries.

Oh… those had definitely gone bad.

He didn’t even need to look at them, he could tell simply by how off they smelled.

But the transformation wasn’t even close to being finished with him.

Part of him wanted to run to the nearest mage and beg to be cured. This wasn’t natural and it certainly wasn’t normal!

But… another part—one more instinctual, base section of his mind—held that feeling at bay. Somehow, to Donny, these changes were like they were always meant to happen, as if he was unlocking some part of himself that had always been there and was now, finally, being revealed.

A sudden thrill shot through him at the thought of becoming something he’d always loved.

Was it possible he was… meant for this?

Perhaps that was just the magic talking.

Donny tried his best to maintain his focus with all the new sensations assaulting his mind, but the next part of his transformation came from an unexpected place.

Wiggling his toes back and forth suddenly became much harder to do. He glanced down at his feet and watched with astonishment as his toenails darkened from their usual pink color into a glossy black shade. His individual toes felt like someone was pushing them closer and closer together and, as he watched, they slowly began to morph and take on a new, singular shape: a hoof.

Kicking off his sandals, he carefully moved and sat down on the lone stool in the storeroom, watching in fascination mixed with the oddly pleasurable sensation of both of his feet transforming into a single, hard shape.

His heels shrunk inwards, forming the rounded edge of the keratin hoof, his legs then beginning to shift and pull in and down. His calves stretched out and thinned somewhat, shifting in the most peculiar way, like someone was massaging his muscles and bones to force them into a brand new shape.

Incredibly, none of it hurt. In fact, it felt almost as good as the rest of his body did, akin to when a pulled muscle was rubbed and warmed in just the right way. His legs slowly finished shifting, bending backward above his ankles and thickening from his calves.

Donny’s eyes were blown wide with shock; his feet and lower legs now resembled that of an equine animal, finishing their transformation into an unguligrade stance. He moved his new hooves across the stone of the storeroom floor, listening to the odd scraping sound it created.

All at once, a rush of growth bloomed from just above his changed hooves. Light brown fur began to sprout steadily, covering his smooth, white skin in a wave that swept up his ankles to his calves.

The thick, chocolate brown fur continued to grow underneath his trousers with a simultaneously maddeningly itchy yet pleasurable sprouting sensation. He fumbled with the buttons holding the fabric together as the muscles in his legs and thighs expanded and grew and, as he undid the final button, he knew that this magical transformation had given him a bit more heft underneath his new fur.

He shucked the pants off, kicking his new legs out from under the stool, marveling at his newly transformed lower half. His thighs and calves looked massive to him now, a nice set of beefy muscles undulating beneath the wave of rich, brown fur that was slowly creeping up towards his groin.

Moaning lewdly, Donny shifted on the stool and bit his lip, gripping the edge of the closest shelf as he was overcome with another burst of pleasure. His still human shaft was taut and throbbing between his thighs, leaking profusely from its tip as his balls began to tingle in their sack. He moaned again and lost his grip on the shelf, sliding down to the stone floor where he expected a shock of cold, but was instead greeted by the odd feeling of sitting on a backside that was now covered with a thick layer of fur.

Pushing the stool away, Donnie leaned against some sacks of grain and propped himself up as he watched his aching package throb and twitch and grow with a sudden energy, leaking precome all over his lower half.

He reached forward and grasped it, realizing that the modest four inches he’d been more than happy with all his adult life had now grown to over twice that length. As he held it, the heat pulses under the slick, furious red skin. With a deep moan, he ran his palm up and over the tip and down to the base, smearing the sticky precome around and coating everything he touched.

Donny leaned his head back against the grain sacks and moaned lewdly, uncaring if anyone was close enough to hear him.

This was… simply incredible.

He’d never felt such intense pleasure, and such an voracious need for more.

He was panting now, rubbing his hand up and over his shaft quicker and quicker with each stroke.

And with every pass, his cock began to change.

At first it was just the shaft thickening in his grasp, growing to the width of his entire arm, large enough that he couldn’t even fit his palm around its circumference.

But then, as he shifted on the stool and opened his eyes to watch, it grew in length again, surging magically past a foot and leaking even more steadily over his furry chest. With every pulse and every stroke and touch of Donny’s fingers, his dick seemed to shift and grow even more before his eyes.

Those same eyes, half-lidded with pleasure, watched as the shaft began to darken, taking on a black shade of skin which then began to change in texture. The velvety soft feel of his human skin was replaced by a more leathery, spongy texture that became instantly slick with the amount of precome he was producing.

The helmet shaped tip of his cock seemed to thicken slightly before flattening out wider and rounding, a puffy edge emerging around his frenulum as it transformed from a human shape into a decidedly bestial and suitably equine one that dwarfed his old member.

Donny whimpered with a desperate arousal, nearly at his limit as a thick medial ring grew around the middle of his new equine cock, helping to keep it upright as he jerked himself off uncontrollably.

As his need to come steadily rose, his balls grew to match the shaft above them. He shuddered with need as his sack darkened and thickened to match the same leathery texture of his shaft. But inside, he could feel the magic building, enhancing his balls and forcing them to grow, to produce more seed, and to suffuse his own incredible need with the means to satisfy it endlessly.

Donny reached out with both hands, one rubbing up and down his throbbing shaft, teasing the medial ring, and the other fondling his now massive balls that felt like they were each the size of plump oranges. He began to thrust his hips up into the air, feeling his balls slapping against his furry backside as they churned, and with every thrust, the skin around the base of his dick began to change as well.

He pulled at his shaft over and over, and with each tug, a leathery sheath began to form up around the base of his dick. The skin was softer and it bunched up around the bottom of his massive shaft, waiting to envelope his tool once it was finished being used.

He was close to delirium now, his eyes fluttering open and closed, unfocused and unseeing as he was consumed with need and pleasure. Moans and whimpers and grunts and snorts filled the storeroom as Donny felt his new animal instincts taking over.

He flicked his thumb over the gaping tip of his black, twitching, equine member.

That was all it took.

With a sudden bray, Donny lost control and his cock jumped in his hand, balls pulling tight in their heavy sack as they sent a rush of bliss up his equine shaft.

For a moment, there was nothing but blinding white pleasure.

And then, Donny came.

Hard.

His new equine equipment thickened as his seed rushed from the flaring, flattened head, shooting all over his transformed body. Some of it landed on his panting tongue, and he swallowed every drop, instantly eager for more. Blast after blast of thick, equine come shot all over his naked body, coating his new furry chest in the sticky liquid as he continued to thrust his hips upward.

He brayed again, the sound of a donkey coming directly from his mouth, as he rubbed his shaft. His brays continued uncontrollably, each one following another blast of his seed from his massive dick.

He was in the heavens, or as close as he’d ever been to them.

Donny’s orgasm seemed to last forever, though after half a minute of utterly blinding and seemingly endless pleasure, it slowly began to taper off, leaving him soaked with an utterly unbelievable amount of come.

He laid there, licking the remnants of his first orgasm as… whatever he was now, from his lips.

The taste was exquisite, like a warm, salted caramel syrup flowing out from his cock.

Reaching a hand up to scoop a dollop from his furry chest, he moaned as he stuck his larger tongue out and licked it off his fingers.

It was sweet ambrosia. Nectar of the gods.

And it was directly from him.

With a contented sigh, Donny’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned his head back on the sack of grain. His shaft softened enough to start to nestle into its new sheath, the pouch holding it up slightly against his lower stomach.

Then the world slowly darkened around him as he passed out, exhaustion taking over.

Donny woke to the muffled sound of knocking.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes, tilting his head up and glancing around the dimly lit storage room.

What was he doing in… oh.

The sudden rush of memories hit him like a brick and he scrambled to get up. His new hooves scraped against the stone floor and he had to use the wooden stool to balance himself enough to stand.

Donny closed his eyes and shook his head before he glanced down to make doubly sure that his body was no longer fully human. His newly transformed hooves, legs, genitals, and generally more furry appearance definitely confirmed that.

“What in the name of all the gods above and below happened to me?”

Steadying himself on the stool for a moment, he took a tentative step forward. And then another. And another until he reached the door of the storage room. Pulling it open, he carefully walked out into the bakery.

It felt… odd, walking on hooves. It was almost like walking on his tippy toes, but more solid and steady. In fact, it seemed his new body came with new instincts as well; after a bit of practice, walking in with hooves suddenly began to feel very natural. It was almost better and easier than walking with feet.

Sure, he didn’t have toes, but he was a bit taller now, his legs gaining a few more inches in length. And his bigger muscles along his calves and thighs and rump felt like they added a bit more of a bounce to each step as well.

The only problem was that he was stark naked and covered in a still damp coating of his own thick seed.

With a sigh, he walked over to a small sink, hooves clopping loudly on the stone, and set about cleaning himself as best he could, scrubbing his hairy stomach and chest with a wet sponge and a bar of soap he had for keeping his hands clean while baking. With a few wipes of a towel, he was as presentable as he could manage, considering the circumstances, although he could clearly smell the spent seed and lingering arousal in the air.

Suddenly, a loud knock on the door sounded from across the room. Clearly, someone wasn’t happy that their favorite bakery was closed early.

Donny looked down at his bulging sheath and enormous balls, biting his lip for a moment before he turned sharply and walked back to the store room. He bent down, realizing how easy it was to lower himself with his transformed legs, and grabbed his trousers and shirt. He glanced at his discarded sandals for a moment before shaking his head and turning back and walking out to the main room.

He bent over and stepped into each opening of his trouser legs, yanking them up. But the fabric was pulled taut over the changed angles of his unguligrade stance. Huffing with annoyance, he grabbed the pants and pulled hard, tearing the fabric easily with a strength he didn’t realize he now possessed.

The knocking came again and Donny groaned aloud, tearing the rest of both trouser legs until the bottom halves fell to the ground, leaving him with a much shorter pair of pants that stopped just above his knees. His sheath and balls left little to the imagination though, poking prominently against the crotch of the torn trousers.

Grabbing his shirt, he tried to pull it over his chest but quickly realized that it was now much too small. He was more muscular all over, but still retained the general softness and pudge that he’d grown to love about himself.

But had he really grown that much?

Glancing around in frustration, Donny threw the shirt onto the floor and grabbed one of his unused aprons hanging on the far wall, slipping it on and tying the tassels tightly behind him. It would have to do, although the rougher fabric rubbing against his new, wider, and hairier chest instantly caused a few more pulses of pleasure to shoot through his body.

A soft bray escaped his mouth and he paused before shaking his head. It felt all too natural for that sound to come from him now.

He moved towards the window and pulled the drapes back a bit, glancing out. A human woman he didn’t recognize was standing in front of the door with her arms crossed, clearly unhappy with being locked out. He watched her for a few more moments before she mercifully turned and walked away.

The sun was already starting to set and Donny knew it was nearly closing time for him anyway. Given the circumstances, he could easily rationalize taking the rest of the night off early.

With a huff, he unlocked the door and then magically locked it behind him as he stood outside, glancing around for anyone who might recognize him.

He didn’t really know why he was so worried about anyone seeing him in this new form, but it was a bit embarrassing to have to deal with. Many adventurers from Kios had been transformed or morphed into some sort of magical creature during a quest, and any number of mages or wizards knew the spells to change them back into their original forms.

But something about Donny’s transformation felt different. It didn’t feel like a curse or a spell that had been put upon him.

It felt… like himself.

It felt right.

So instead of heading towards one of the more reputable magical vendors in the market, he turned and headed for the outskirts of Kios.

The Chipped Horn sat along the eastern limits of the city, nestled on a small plot of land at the edge of the great forest of Iacso. It had been around nearly as long as the city had, and some even said it had always been there, enchanted throughout time by some ancient god

As Donny approached the moderately sized building from the main road, his growing apprehension and nervousness swelled.

Would Kol recognize him like this?

Was his transformation finished?

Had this ever happened to anyone else?

Questions buzzed around his mind like gnats and he tried his best to ignore their din as he walked past the welcome sign hanging off of the entry gate. Based on the muffled noises coming from the pub ahead, there was a decent amount of people inside, the thought of which made Donny’s stomach squirm.

He walked up the few steps leading to the main entrance, his hooves landing heavily against the oak wood planks. Peals of laughter and bouts of raucous energy radiated from just beyond the pair of thick doors. Donny placed a hand on one of them, taking a moment to breathe.

There was nothing for it now.

He pushed the heavy doors open, entering slowly.

The warmth rushed out from inside, filling Donny’s nose with scents of burning firewood, warm beer, and sweet wine. But mostly, he smelled the many, many different scents of the patrons beyond the doorway.

The pub was shaped like a ‘U’, with the main entrance facing the center of a large, rounded bar that curved back towards the far wall. Encircling the bar was a wide walkway that allowed easy access to either side of the pub. On the edge of that walkway curled in a larger, slightly elevated and rounded floor where dozens of tables and even more chairs were arranged, all of which seemed to be full of various customers all enjoying themselves.

Sturdy wrought iron and wooden railings had been built around the edge of the elevated floor, with several openings allowing patrons to step down into the lower walkway to reach the bar. There was so much movement inside that Donny took a small step back, suddenly a bit shy to be standing out in the open wearing only an apron and a pair of torn pants.

Casting his gaze around, he spotted several adventuring parties he recognized from around town, and even some of his own customers from the bakery. But from his vantage point, he couldn’t see any sign of Kol.

Humans were definitely the minority in a place like this—the pub was absolutely packed with creatures and non-humans of all kinds. A group of orcs to his immediate right were regaling a few wide-eyed nymphs with some sort of story or another. To his left, several large minotaurs each clinked their glasses of ale together before downing them in a few seconds. And beyond them, Donny spotted a smattering of other types of racing all enjoying themselves; elves, dwarves, tieflings, fairies, and even a few centaurs in the very back that he could make out. Although, oddly he didn’t spot any satyrs.

“Y’comin’ in or y’gonna close the godsdamned door, lad?”

Donny stiffened for a moment and then looked ahead, spotting a rather tired seeming dwarf staring at him from behind the bar. He looked at Donny with an expectant expression as he cleaned a glass with a cloth.

With a quick nod, Donny shut the door behind him and walked forward into the center of the pub, glancing around nervously at the rowdy noises that now encircled him. He stepped past a few people holding trays with piping hot food and walked up to the bar, where the heavily bearded dwarf was still looking at him.

“Uh… hello.”

Donny’s voice barely carried past the noise of the rest of the pub, but the dwarf nodded regardless and spoke with a gruff, heavy tone that cut through easily.

“Yer definitely new ‘round here, tha’s fer sure. Ain’t seen many like ya, ‘side from the normal satyr crowd tha’ comes in mos’ nights,” the dwarf said as he put a thickly rimmed wine glass down in front of Donny and reached for a bottle behind the bar.

“Jus’ say when.”

Donny’s eyes widened as the dwarf started to tip the bottle towards the glass. He leaned back slightly and held his hands up.

“Oh, no sir, sorry! I’m just here to meet someone.”

The dwarf stopped tilting the bottle and looked past it towards Donny, his brow now furrowed.

“Well tha’s a first. Ain’t never had a satyr come in ‘ere that ain’t want no satyr-wine.”

He peered across the bar at Donny and put the bottle down, tilting his head slightly.

“Who’s it yer lookin’ fer, lad?”

“His name’s Kol!” Donny said, louder and faster than he’d meant. The dwarf leaned his head back slightly and seemed to grin behind his beard at the satyr’s excitement. Donny shook his head, blushing softly, and repeated.

“His name is Kolis. He’s a satyr. Dark brown fur, gray spiral horns. Big… muscles.”

The dwarf nodded, a spark of recognition in his eyes, “Y’must be Donny then, eh? Yer friend said ta’ keep an eye out fer ya. Thought I was lookin’ fer a human though. Ain’t said nothin’ ‘bout no more satyrs comin’ in tonight.”

“More satyrs?” Donny asked.

“Mm,” the dwarf nodded, glancing over his shoulder for a moment, “There’s a whole lot of ‘em ‘round tonight.”

He picked up the wine bottle and poured a dark red liquid into the glass he’d gotten out, sliding it towards Donny.

“Firs’ ones on me. Y’seem spooked or some such. No need t’be nervous, lad. Thought you satyrs were always up fer a good time, eh?”

Donny glanced at the glass for a moment.

“Jus’ take a sip, lad. You’ll feel better, I can promise ya tha’.”

“Thanks.” Donny said with a hint of confusion. He shook his head and wrapped his fingers around the glass, tilting it back and taking a sip.

As soon as the wine touched his tongue his body filled with a buzzing, vibrating pleasure. It wasn’t sexual—although it wasn’t not sexual—but it made him instantly feel at ease somehow. The warmth of the pub felt like it was wrapped around his body, and all of the scents and sights his new body was open to seemed to flare up, as if someone had turned the potency and saturation of this reality up several notches.

Donny gripped the bar with one hand, feeling the back of his eyes pulsing softly, causing him to blink a few times. His body continued to buzz away pleasantly, and he took a breath to steady himself. The bartender smirked at him and growled out a short laugh.

“Don’ tell me yer new to satyr-wine too! Where’ve ya been all yer life, lad? Look around, why don’cha?

Donny turned away slowly from the dwarf and glanced around the pub. What he saw was even stranger than he could’ve imagined.

It was like there were two worlds stacked on top of one another. The interior of the Chipped Horn remained the same in both worlds, but the patrons seemed to be different, with every person looking half-transparent and slightly foggy where they overlapped.

Donny tilted his head and watched as the large group of orcs he’d spotted when he walked in continued to tell the nymphs their story. But at the same time, in the same place, a large male bugbear sitting in a heavy chair was making out with… what looked like two fairies.

Looking around, Donny’s eyes widened at the sights before him. The second layer of reality seemed to be far more… sexually charged than the one he’d originally stepped into, although he could clearly see both at the same time and it made his head spin slightly. Patrons of the pub in this new, second layer were openly ravishing one another, laughing and lounging along with couples, threesomes, and more groupings of all kinds across a variety of much plusher, comfier looking furniture.

“Is… is this a brothel?”

The dwarf laughed aloud again, leaning back slightly as he held his stomach for support.

“The Chipped Horn ain’t no brothel, lad! Nah, it’s jus’ a place fer anyone who needs ta relax a bit more… openly than ya normally can n’front a’the more prudent society tha’ runs Kios.”

Donny shook his head in disbelief, “I can’t even imagine… how this was ever done. I’d heard rumors about the Chipped Horn. Most certainly that it wasn’t a place for polite, uh, ‘society’ as you say. But this is—”

“Donny!?”

At the sound of his name, Donny felt his body buzz and vibrate again. He turned from the dwarf towards the image of a half transparent satyr walking up to him. The sound of his name was something he seemed to feel more than hear, like it was a thought directed at him rather than a noise.

“Kol?”

The dwarf spoke up, “He can’t hear ya. Ya need ta step inta’ it, lad. Inta’ th’other room. Jus’ focus an’ it’ll happen. An’ take yer wine wit’ ya!”

Without even thinking, Donny grabbed his wine glass and turned back towards the blurry figure of what looked like Kol. He furrowed his brow slightly and tried his best to focus on the other satyr. As he did, the image in front of him seemed to solidify slightly, becoming less blurry to his eyes. Then, with a deep breath, Donny put a hoof forward and stepped through what felt like an invisible, chilled opening and into the suddenly very solid, very warm embrace of his satyr crush.

“Donny, oh gods, it is you! I wasn’t sure because of the barrier and… well, the legs. Are you alright?”

With a soft laugh, Donny stood up fully, though he kept his hands wrapped around Kol’s sturdy body. Just that simple touch between the two of them seemed to gently vibrate his body more pleasantly than before, and he moaned softly as he picked up the other satyr’s beautiful, luscious scent in the air again.

“I’ve had… a bit of a day as you can probably guess. Been going through some changes.”

“I can… definitely see that. Were you cursed somehow? I don’t think I’ve ever—”

Donny leaned forward and kissed Kol, sliding his tongue out to fit between the satyr’s lips eagerly.

Kol moaned into the kiss and tightened his hold on Donny, pulling them together as he stepped back slowly away from the bar.

After a moment, Donny broke the kiss and, panting heavily, looked over at Kol.

“Sorry. I just had a bit of wine and I’m not sure what came over me. Also you taste amazing. You smell amazing. And you look… so stupendously handsome.”

Kol chuckled as he leaned forward and captured Donny’s lips again, slowly peppering small kisses across his face.

“It’s the satyr-wine. You need it to access this pocket plane of reality. Pretty ingenious, if you ask me. Most people don’t even know about it but, well, satyrs tend to want to have as good a party as possible, and that usually involves some things that the majority of the public here in Kios might frown upon.”

Donny watched as Kol spoke, tracing his eyes over his perfectly sculpted face. His beard was beautifully thick and wiry, though not unkempt. And his lips were full and his cheeks were flushed slightly. For a moment, he lost himself in the other satyr, but quickly shook his head to try and clear his mind.

“Okay, you have to tell me: what is in this wine? I had a sip and I feel like I’ve had a whole bottle.”

Kol laughed aloud and smiled over at him, “Let’s find a place to sit first.”

He walked them over to a richly padded chaise lounge and sat down with Donny. Both of their eyes seemed to sparkle with magic as they gazed upon each other.

“Alright. So. The short answer to your question is that satyr-wine tends to have a much more potent effect on, well, satyrs. We thrive on it, not just as a means to get drunk, but also a way to bring us more in tune to the feywild and our god, Pan. The wine tunes our senses to a much higher degree on this plane, and if you’re not used to it, it can feel a bit overwhelming.”

“That’s one way to describe it, for certain.” Donny said with a snort, happy to be sitting down as his body seemed to slow its vibrating.

Kol was silent for a moment and then broached the thing he’d been wanting to ask since Donny became solid.

“Donny… what happened to you?”

With an anxious smile, Donny slowly began to regale Kol with what had occurred since he left the bakery yesterday; the recipe, the ingredients, the magic, the cake, and then the sudden transformation starting from when he woke up. Kol listened with rapt attention and then, when Donny explained what happened as he transformed, a knowing grin and a flash of pleasure.

“...and I can’t be sure but I feel like something about the magic I weaved into the cake triggered this in me. But I’ve got no idea how! I’ve used magic all my life and never, ever had anything like this happen to me, let alone to any of my customers.”

Kol nodded, “You know, I sensed something different about you yesterday. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly but… well, it was almost like you were one of us.”

“A satyr?” Donny asked.

“One and the same.”

Kol laughed heartily and shifted on the lounge, taking one of Donny’s hands.

“Not all fey-creatures are the same, and there are some that we still don’t know that much about. But all fey-creatures, known or unknown, have a line that ties them to the feywild. It’s why the satyr-wine affects us so strongly, like I said before. But when I met you…”

He ran a finger over Donny’s palm, softly tracing its lines.

“When we spoke yesterday, I felt like you had the same lines tying you back home. Back to Pan. But it was different, not something I’d ever felt before, so I wasn’t entirely certain. Sometimes magic users on this plane can simply be pulling threads from the weave that temporarily link them to the feywild. I assumed that’s what it was at first but then we kissed and after that… I’d never been more certain that a human was one of us.”

“But how?” Donny asked, leaning forward towards Kol, “I’ve always been human. No one in my family is a satyr, at least as far as I know.

Kol shrugged his shoulders and sighed, continuously tracing Donny’s palm.

“That is beyond my knowing, my friend. I’m sure the likely answer is that someone in your lineage has or had some tie to the feywild, either from being a satyr or a fey-creature themselves, or from something more magical in nature. Maybe a pact with Pan or a curse that was put upon them. Or….”

He leaned in and kissed Donny softly, tracing his hand down his newly furred chest. Donny moaned into it, his body thrumming powerfully, aching with a need he’d never known before.

“... it could just be fate. The will of Pan creates its own path in this world. I would guess that, in some way, you’ve become a big part of it.”

Donny pulled away slowly, panting slightly as he took in the sight of this beautiful creature before him.

In his experience, satyrs were beings of pleasure, of playfulness, of revelry, and of striking wisdom. He’d always adored their tendency for confidence and the often brusque manner in which they could turn even the most mundane situation into a good time, as if they willed pleasure from nothing.

And now he was one of them.

That need for stimulation already felt less to him, and his body’s thrill at every touch made his mind ache for more.

But there was something else inside him.

He knew this transformation wasn’t quite finished.

Kol nuzzled his beard against Donny’s cheek, continuously running his hands up and down the thicker, stronger sides of the new satyr.

“Mm, Donny, you’ve got the sweetest scent I think I’ve ever smelled. It’s like… sugar and browned butter.”

Donny grinned as Kol kissed at his neck, leaning his head to give the satyr easier access. For the first time since entering this pocket reality, he glanced around at the rest of the room.

There were far less patrons here than in the other reality, but the ones he could see were certainly making the most of it. Groups of creatures were spread around the plush furniture that was scattered throughout the space.

Two male minotaurs were engaged on either end of a third who was on all fours, just to Donny’s right. He watched while Kol continued to kiss his neck as the one minotaur bucked steadily into the plump backside of the minotaur in the middle, and the other one fed his girthy length into his muzzle, drawing muffled moans from all three of them.

To his left, two female fairies and one male fairy were tackling the massive form of a centaur, standing with his hands against one of the large wooden poles propping up the room. The two females were attending to the centaur’s massive, dripping pole hanging between his hind legs, while the male had his legs wrapped around the waist of the centaur’s human half, rubbing his leaking shaft over the hairy chest in front of him as the two kissed deeply.

Scenes like these were occurring all at once within the room, with no shame or judgment thrown around by anyone. This was a place of pleasure and only pleasure.

And Donny wanted to join in.

Kol smiled into his neck and laved his tongue over the slickened skin, sensing Donny’s intentions. At the same time, the sound of hooves clopping closer to them both made them turn to look at who was approaching.

“When were you gonna introduce us to your new friend, Kol?”

Three satyrs and a minotaur stood a few feet away, looking down at the two of them on the lounge. All four of them were naked and hard, with their erections proudly pointing at the two engaged lovers sitting in front of them.

Donny felt a sudden thirst in his throat that he knew would only be quenched by sex. It was his nature now, and he desperately wanted to find out his limits.

Kol chuckled softly and shifted on the seat, leaning his head on Donny’s shoulder as he looked up at the four men in front of them.

“I leave you guys for five minutes and suddenly you can’t live without me.”

The satyr in the middle crossed his arms and pouted. He had light red hair and fur, almost orange, and a thinner build than any of the others. But his shaft was longer than the other two satyrs by several inches, and it looked incredibly plump as Donny watched it bob and twitch from where it emerged from his sheath.

“I mean… you were giving me the best blowjob I’ve had all night, so like… yeah. I don’t know how I can live without that.”

The satyr to his left—black hair and fur, solidly built with muscle, and an impressively thick cock—rolled his eyes and reached down between his legs, casually stroking himself as spoke.

“Cornelius, if you wanted another blowjob, you could’ve simply asked me. My mouth’s been free for the past five minutes.”

“Mm.” A soft acknowledgement came from the last satyr—the most muscular of the three, with blond hair and sandy blond fur—who had an arm around the black-furred satyr.

“Indeed. Orphis was sitting firmly on my shaft as I remember it. His mouth was unoccupied. Although mine wasn’t, thanks to Kalchas here.”

The minotaur snorted proudly, his enormous shaft leaking a near steady stream of pre on the floor.

“I rather enjoyed occupying your mouth, little satyr.”

The well-built satyr chuckled and stepped up to the minotaur, reaching down to stroke his thick, dark red member casually.

Kol looked over at Donny and then gestured to the group in front of them.

“Donny, meet my good friends. Of the satyrs here, the blond beauty is Boros, the handsome black-furred one is Orphis, and the charming auburn one is Cornelius. And of course, the stunning minotaur to his right is Kalchas. Everyone, this is Donny. He’s… new to our way of life.”

Donny waved as casually as he could at the proudly naked group of men in front of him. They nodded and smiled at him in kind, but Donny could see the same gleam in their eyes that told him they all wanted something more than just a pleasant hello.

“Donny runs a bakery in Kios called Bread and Breakfast. I can assure you he makes the absolute best cakes and breads in the city. They’ll change your life!”

In more ways than one, it seems, Donny thought to himself with a small smile.

“But,” Kol continued, “Donny’s had quite the day, what with starting out as a human and then transforming into the beautiful satyr you see before you now.”

Donny nodded sheepishly as the surprised gazes of the group in front of them locked onto him. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention, and certainly not because of his body.

“I… I don’t think my transformation is quite finished yet, Kol.”

Kol looked over at him, surprised for a moment, and then a growing sense of eagerness seemed to fill the air around them. Donny could smell the sudden flood of arousal that painted the most beautiful images in his mind of what they might all do together.

His body was singing to be touched, to be licked, and to be loved. With a sudden burst of energy, Donny stood up from the lounge and pulled Kol along with him.

Something had shifted in him.

He knew what he needed to do.

“If I’m going to be a satyr… then I want to be a satyr. I want you to help me experience what I’m meant for.”

Donny looked into Kol’s gorgeous green eyes and the other satyr nodded, instantly understanding.

Without hesitating, Donny undid the knot holding his apron together, then lifted the fabric over his head. And, with a sigh of relief, he pulled down the much too tight trousers he’d been wearing all afternoon, leaving him fully naked and bare to the gathered group.

Something about simply showcasing his new body, letting the five creatures before him take in his thickly padded, powerful figure was intoxicating to him. He felt his body flush with a sudden heat, a power from deep within his core flooded outward in a delightful wave of sensation, drawing a lusty moan that ended with a soft bray of need.

His gray eyes seemed to sparkle with a flash, cheeks turning red with a soft blush as he reached down slowly towards his crotch, letting his fingers trail through his furry chest and stomach as they made their way south. The thick equine cock he now sported was filling out his new sheath proudly, its flat head peeking out ever so slightly from the it’s slick home.

Donny let out a soft bray as he traced his finger around the edge of his thick sheath, glancing up at the group that was watching him intently.

“Do you all want to help too?”

The lot of them were all locked onto the site of his massive, glistening shaft. Cornelius licked his lips and nodded.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’d love to help.”

Donny grinned, eager to get started.

“Kol, if you want to–”

Before Donny could even finish his sentence, Kol had his hands on him. The other satyr kissed him fervently, possessing a frantic need that Donny instantly matched. Their tongues slid over one another, slick and swift and eager to please as both satyrs moaned deeply.

Kol raised up a hand and waved it towards the lounge behind them. As he did, the piece of furniture began to shift and grow, its base widening until it was bigger than the largest best Donny had ever seen. The cushion on top stretched and thickened as well until it fit perfectly atop the surface of the lounge, which now resembled more of a plush, elegantly adorned and slightly rounded bed frame easily big enough for the six of them.

With a gentle push, Kol broke their kiss and laid Donny back onto the pillowtop cushion, his hooved feet hanging over the edge.

Donny’s heart was beating fast, pumping hot blood to his extremities as the vibrating, tingling sensation rushed through him again, setting every nerve alight with a pleasurable rumble. Kol knelt down between his legs, latching his lips onto Donny’s furred, muscular thighs while moaning gently.

“You smell even better down here, Donny… gods, I can’t wait to taste you.”

Donny giggled as he felt his cock twitch in its sheath, the heavy organ nearly ready to spill out from its leathery pouch. Kol laid his head down on top of Donny’s thigh, staring up at the newly transformed satyr with nothing but pure lust.

Slowly, he reached and gently placed a single finger against the flat, leaking head of Donny’s cock, tracing the thickly flared frenulum where it met the edge of his sheath.

Donny brayed louder this time, biting his lip as he watched Kol so focused on simply swirling his finger around the inside of his sheath. The pleasure, even from such a simple act, caused Donny to look up at the rest of the gathered group with half-lidded eyes, nodding for them to come over.

The eagerness of satyrs and minotaurs wouldn’t be denied. Scents of arousal swirled around them all, combining into an overpowering aphrodisiac that would make even the most prudish of humans fall instantly to their knees with unbridled lust.

As Kol pushed his fingers deeper into Donny’s moist sheath, the others took places behind and beside Donny on the plush pillowtop. Kalchas, the large minotaur, huffed as he sat his full weight down next to the two amorous satyrs, causing the bed to dip slightly.

Donny’s eyes fixed on him as he bent over, trailing his muzzle over his newly furred chest before he latched onto one of his pert nipples. The warmth of the minotaur’s wet, wide tongue spread across his sensitive nub just as Kol leaned forward and dipped his own tongue deep inside Donny’s sheath.

The donkey satyr let out a wild bray, unabashed this time, as the pleasure rolled through him. His unguligrade legs twitched, hooves scraping against the floor as he felt two tongues flowing over him. The minotaur continued its steady licking of his nipple, sending bolts of pleasure across his chest as Kol slid his talented tongue around the edge of his equine flare.

Finally, Donny’s growing shaft could not be contained by his sheath any longer, and with a sudden twitch, it grew past the taut skin and emerged glorious and masculine to the gathered crowd. Kol let his tongue drag up the wide, flared edge and down along the black shaft as it grew further and heavier between Donny’s thighs. He moaned and sniffed deeply, taking in the new satyr’s scent like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

Donny moaned to match Kol, loving the feeling of his new lover’s tongue along his cock. It was so impossibly sensitive now, like every nerve-ending in his body was connected right to the skin of his dick. He could feel just how thick, how powerful the shaft between his legs was, and he marveled at it as it bobbed before him, leaking thick precum over his naked skin.

The trio moaned aloud as the other satyrs surrounding them finally chose to dive into the pleasure. Cornelius settled down opposite Kalchas, running his nimble fingers over Donny’s other nipple, lightly pinching it before leaning forward and nuzzling his head towards the donkey satyr’s side. He sniffed as he let his nose brush up against the edge of Donny’s underarm hair.

“Oh gods, you do smell good! D’you mind if I…”

Desperate for touch, Donny nodded with a weak smile, eyes nearly shut. Cornelius smirked and then bent down, lifting Donny’s arm up so he could bury his nose in the suddenly sweaty patch of thick, brown hair. He breathed deeply once, twice, letting the raw scent fill his mind before he began to kiss and lick, eager to douse himself with the rich scent pouring off of the new satyr.

A steady drip of precome fell from the ridge of the puffed flare on Donny’s cock, smattering his chest and stomach as he was thoroughly worked over by the three creatures before him.

The other two satyrs had taken up seats above where Donny laid, and were busying themselves by stroking each other’s thick shafts that had emerged from their sheaths. Boros’ blonde fur seemed to shimmer slightly in the dim candlelight and he moaned softly, moving forward to settle to the left of Donny’s head.

“Seems your new friend is enjoying the best perks of our kind, Kol. I’d say he’s well suited to be one of us indeed.”

The blonde satyr softly let go of Orphis’ shaft, drawing a sigh from the black furred satyr opposite him, and he moved until his own leaking shaft was proudly hovering over Donny’s face.

The donkey satyr’s eyes snapped towards the throbbing spire of virility and, without hesitation, used his hand to coax it towards his open mouth. His tongue lapped gently at the leaking tip, coating itself with the precome of the blonde satyr and instantly hooking him on the taste forever.

With a moan, he leaned his head and took the shaft into his mouth, using instinct and gusto to service the muscular satyr beside him.

Something about it simply felt right. The pleasure coursing through him, the shaft twitching and throbbing in his eager mouth, the mouths working over his perspiring skin—it all settled into something altogether natural.

Donny was in his element.

Orphis wasn’t one to enjoy being left out, but luckily, Kalchas reached out and began to steadily stroke his shaft. With a look of pleased satisfaction, the black-furred satyr leaned down and let his tongue mingle with the minotaur’s as they assaulted Donny’s nipple in tandem.

The world around Donny ceased to exist. All he knew was pleasure and touch and sensation and the steady stroking and bobbing and flowing of his tongue around a cock that seemed to be reacting to his every movement. He groaned and felt his own spire of equine power twitch under the frightfully talented tongue of Kol.

The hunky satyr between his legs was trailing his mouth down the center of his shaft, leaving a trail of spit mixed with an endless river of slick precome that seemed to constantly recoat the black skin. Donny could feel his lover moving lower, steadily, and it wasn’t until he felt two hands lift his furry legs up and push them back that he realized what was happening.

“Gods, Donny… I could just eat you up like this.”

Kol’s voice was even but Donny could sense the wild abandon that was actively being held back, the instinctual need to breed, to fuck, to love. He let Boros’ cock fall from his mouth as he looked down at the satyr beneath his cock.

Their eyes met, just for a few moments, and they knew what they were to one another without question.

Donny nodded, tongue hanging out slightly past his newly extended maw. That was all Kol needed.

“Let’s make you a satyr, love.”

Kol bent forward and watched Donny’s tight rosebud of a hole twitch between his furred, muscular backside. Donny had been right; the man was still undergoing his transformation into his true satyr self. But maybe they could help push things along further.

The satyr leaned in and pressed his nose to Donny’s taint, huffing in the scent over and over as he kissed down, down, down towards his twitching hole. Then, with a smile pressed against his lover, he kissed the warm bundle of furless skin, lashing his tongue out to taste Donny’s hole.

All at once, Donny bucked his hips and howled with pleasure. He’d never experienced anything like it before, and Kol swiped with his tongue again and again, slickening his entrance with spittle and warmth. A pure, animal bray escaped his lips, and the gathered creatures around him all smiled with the knowledge that they were helping one of their own enter the fold.

Kol licked harder and harder at Donny’s hole, feeling the tight entrance giving way with every lash of his tongue. But something else was happening as well. As he licked and lapped at the skin, it began to darken to match the black, leathered skin of Donny’s sheath and cock.

Taking a moment to breathe, Kol watched as right before his eyes, the ring of pale white skin darkened and puffed out slowly. His eyes widened as the human hole in front of him gained a ring of skin that expanded and thickened. He dove back in, eager to taste the change on his lips as it happened.

As he thrust his tongue over and over against the thickening ring, he felt it widening and opening up more easily for him.

With a final push, Kol’s tongue entered Donny’s now fully equine donut of a hole, flowing deeply into the heat of the musky tunnel beyond.

Donny brayed and moaned with a need he’d never known. Kol’s tongue writhing inside him felt so right, so perfect. He closed his eyes and let sensation take over his mind, reveling in the wet, hot muscle pummeling his insides as he continued to transform.

A small itch formed at the base of his spine. If he’d been able to process any thoughts other than ecstasy, he would’ve realized that he was growing a length of tail. Kol felt a small bit of flesh brush against his hand holding up Donny’s leg and he pulled his tongue out of the musky hole, breathing heavily.

He panted and looked down, watching as a rapidly growing length of skin and bone was sprouting from just above Donny’s ass. It grew steadily, gaining that same beautiful fur as the rest of Donny’s body, until it was nearly three and a half feet long and whipping back and forth on its own accord.

Kol reached down and held the base of it between his fingers, tugging softly and brushing his thumb at the base as he bent back down to continue his rimming of Donny.

The explosion of new, alien sensations nearly caused Donny to black out. Somewhere in his mind, he’d felt something new, something different about his body. But the constant waves of pleasure from the satyrs, the minotaur, and from Kol’s talented tongue had kept him from fully realizing what was happening.

Now though, under the increasingly wet assault of Kol’s mouth, he could parse out the sensation of the strange new appendage he’d grown from the rest of his sexual onslaught. He found that when Kol brushed his hand against the base, it sent a rush of tingles up the rest of his spine, causing him to arch his back like a cat being scratched.

With a dopey smile, Donny swirled his tongue around the length of Boros’ thick shaft, coating it heavily with his spit and letting it flow deep into his throat. His gag reflex seemed to have disappeared entirely, and he easily sunk the length down until his slightly wider nose was buried in the crotch of the hunky satyr.

He could feel the throbbing of the shaft as he milked it, his throat automatically constricting and tightening like a vice as his breathing remained perfectly steady. His new body was built for such things, and he rejoiced in the knowledge that he was now able to give and receive as much pleasure as he could manage.

Kol held his hand against the base of Donny’s new tail as he continued to eat out his new lover, thrusting his tongue into the blackened, thick, musky hole that pulsed with need before him.

He moaned at the feel of his beard, sopping with spit and musk now, trailing over the fresh, damp skin between Donny’s ass, the taste of a new satyr fresh on his tongue as he pulsed it against that nub of pleasure just slightly passed the donkey satyr’s entrance.

The entire group was enthralled with Donny, satyrs and minotaur alike moaning and gasping with shared pleasure at the induction of a new creature of fae. The eyes of the rest of the hidden room were upon them, reveling in the debauched, unrelenting pace the group was setting.

“G-gods… his mouth is better than anyone I can remember!”

Boros’ hips stuttered as he thrust gently into Donny’s eager mouth, the other satyrs glancing jealously at the muscular satyr being blown in front of them. Slowly, he pulled out of the warm embrace of Donny’s maw, letting the leaking tip drip heavily across his grinning face.

“You taste so, so delicious.”

Donny was panting heavily, but his voice was even as he leaned back against the mattress, looking up at the other moaning satyrs and minotaur around him. He reached out, wrapping his hand around Kalchas’ mighty shaft and stroking it steadily for a few moments until his hand was coated in the bull’s precome. He brought two fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, sighing at the amazing taste.

The minotaur snorted and moved suddenly from Donny’s nipple up to his face. He laved his long, wide tongue over the donkey satyr’s features, drawing a giggle from the smaller being.

Donny opened his mouth and let the minotaur plunge his tongue inside, suckling on the slick muscle as he battled against his much smaller one. The three satyrs beside them–Boros, Orphis, and Cornelius–moved beside each other and watched with glee as the minotaur made out with Donny.

With a smirk, Orphis turned laid back against the mattress, snapping his fingers once. A plush set of pillows popped into existence behind him, and he propped himself up to get the perfect view of the finale Donny was about to experience.

All it took was a knowing glance between him and Boros before the blond, muscular satyr got up, carefully positioned himself, and sank himself easily onto the throbbing shaft of the black-furred satyr. Cornelius chuckled as he knelt beside Orphis and cradled his horns gently before leaning down for a tongue-diving kiss.

A few moments passed and he leaned back, slowly feeding his own aching shaft into Orphis’ mouth, the trio of satyrs all now watching the other two satyrs and minotaur together.

Donny was stunned as Kalchas’ tongue plundered his maw, filling the back of his throat like the shaft that had just been there a minute ago. But his body gave a thrum of pleasure as Kol’s tongue struck his prostate over and over, drawing muffled bleats from him as his black, equine cock spurted gobs of thick precome over his stomach, chest, and both he and the bull’s faces.

He was close.

So very close to his undoing.

With a drawn out moan, he felt Kol’s tongue finally pulling out of his backside as Kalchas’ drew out of his mouth. The minotaur snorted with satisfaction, licking Donny’s chin and lightly kissing down his neck, then chest, all the way down to the wide head of his leaking shaft.

The bull-man lapped steadily at the sticky, flowing stream coming from the tip for a moment, snorting again and rumbling with desire.

“I want you next, little satyr.”

Donny nodded, eyes half-lidded as Kalchas slowly moved over towards the trio of satyrs, settling his massive body down against Cornelius’ before slowly thrusting his massive spire of bull meat into the satyr’s eager backside.

Donny stared down between his lifted thighs at Kol.

Both of them were panting heavily with need as they gazed upon one another.

The older satyr reached for Donny’s cock, stroking it softly with one hand as he scooted his hips up against the donkey satyr’s.

“I want you.”

Kol’s voice was even, assured.

For a moment, time seemed to still.

“Then have me.”

Donny moaned as Kol bent down and lifted him until they were both upright on the mattress. Donny’s cock dwarfed Kol’s both in length and width, but Kol was no slouch. The goat-satyr’s dick was larger than any of the other satyrs at around ten inches, and looked utterly beautiful as it throbbed between his thighs, the base surrounded by a furry sheath.

Without a word, Donny felt Kol pull him up further. He followed the movement until the other satyr’s cock was jutting up against his thoroughly spit-slickened entrance. The leaking tip spurted against his equine hole as he watched a fire light behind Kol’s eyes.

Slowly, Donny lowered himself down, feeling the Kol’s thick tip slide easily past his twitching rim. Kol’s arms held Donny’s furry shoulders as he lowered himself down, filling his hole with inch after glorious inch of his lover’s perfect, beautiful shaft.

Donny felt his furry backside suddenly settle against Kol’s equally furry thighs, the two of them now perfectly connected, as all satyrs should be. Donny closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the way Kol’s shaft felt inside his new body.

The sensation was incomparable to anything he’d ever experienced before. He’d had trists with other men before, days and nights of pleasure with dates that had always felt so incomplete.

But this…

This was what he was meant for.

Kol thrusted his hips gently, letting Donny get a feel for the enormous spire of masculine, magical power now lodged firmly within him. The donkey-satyr gasped, his eyes open and pupils blown wide as he gazed down at the beautiful satyr fucking him.

They were meant for each other. So perfectly intertwined.

Donny reached up and grabbed Kol’s horns as he met one of his thrusts with a drop of his backside, braying wildly as he felt himself impaled over and over. His moans twisted into long steady gasps, each one ending with a wild bray. Kol too was bleeting alongside him as he fucked harder and harder into his love, obsessed with how perfectly tight his hole clenched around his shaft, practically milking it.

Boros, Orphis, Cornelius, and Kalchas watched with rapturous attention as the two lovers fucked so passionately before them. The minotaur was steadily fucking the auburn satyr as the black and blond satyrs bleeted and moaned heavily at the sight.

Donny was nearly lost to his own pleasure now, his body attuned to the pace Kol had set with his intense, perfect thrusts. But he tightened his hold on Kol’s horns, pulling the satyr’s head forward and capturing him with a kiss.

He could taste himself, his satyr musk and sweat still heavily mixed with Kol’s own taste—brown butter and tree bark and sandalwood and sugar. Each one mingled between the two satyrs as they kissed deeply, Kol still steadily thrusting into Donny’s increasingly tight ass. It seemed to draw in every movement, inviting each arch and flex of Kol’s body in order to create music out of it.

Donny could feel his end nearing. His ample balls hung low in their leathery sack, filled to nearly overflowing as he felt Kol’s shaft brush up against his prostate again and again and again. Of its own accord, Donny’s tail suddenly wrapped itself around Kol’s thigh, tightening as they neared their release.

Kol gasped out, shuddered as he lapped desperately against Donny’s lips, chasing the taste of his lover as his hips stuttered once, nearly losing his pace. But he recovered and groaned at the sudden vice grip Donny’s equine hole had on his shaft. A dozen muscles all clenched and unclenched around his cock as he felt his lover riding him, their bodies meeting each other over and over with the muted slap of fur on fur.

Donny brayed again, feeling the thickening of Kol’s shaft along with his own.

They were nearly there.

With one final, heavy thrust, Kol erupted deep inside of Donny, filling the new satyr with the thick, potent seed his body now craved. He cried out and wrapped his arms around Donny, holding the new satyr close as he continued to fuck him hard. His balls pulled up against him, pumping more and more of his come into Donny’s backside until it started to leak out of the taut hole gripping around his shaft.

Donny felt himself flooded with a warmth unlike any other. His body rejoiced and gladly responded in kind. His equine shaft thickened, the flared head widening until Donny was sure it would burst. He felt his balls suddenly jump in their sack, pumping thick donkey seed out of his tip with a force he didn’t know was possible.

Blast after blast of thick, musky come erupted from his tip, coating him and Kol both as they embraced one another. His massive cock spurted continuously as his ass was filled again and again with Kol’s come, both of their orgasms seemingly unending.

They kissed as Donny’s thick, white-yellow seed coated their faces, their chests, and their stomachs. Every movement of their lips and tongue invited more of it nto their kiss until both their maws were covered with the salty, delicious fluid. It drove them wild, even as their orgasms seemed to slow, and their satyr bodies simply wouldn’t stop producing more endless pleasure for them both.

A minute passed before Donny’s shaft finally began to soften somewhat, although it still produced small spurts of come. He felt Kol’s cock pulsing softly in his ass, and moaned as he lapped his tongue over the satyr’s beard, getting every trace he could of his own seed.

Finally, the two of them were spent, for the moment at least. Kol leaned back against the mattress and pulled Donny down with him, the donkey satyr nestled warmly against his come-coated body.

They looked into each other’s eyes softly, though the fire within them both still burned hotly for more. A fire that would never be quenched.

Kol captured Donny’s lips with his for a few moments, thrusting gently into the other satyr’s ass with his still achingly hard cock. He drew a bray from Donny who looked back at him with a knowing smirk.

“That was…”

“Perfection.”

Donny nodded and kissed Kol again before turning his head to watch the trio of satyrs and the minotaur fucking each other now that the main event had passed.

Donny’s eyes trailed over the beautiful bodies on display before them. The powerful hindquarters of Kalchas flexing as he thrusted hard into Cornelious’ more sinewy body, both their tails wagging back and forth. And of course, the beautifully sculpted muscles of Boros as he sunk his backside onto Orphis’ cock, their bodies complimenting each other so wonderfully.

Donny brushed his nose against Kol’s wet beard and breathed in the mixture of their scents, memorizing it forever. The sounds of the other satyrs fucking seemed to intensify for a moment as a slight itching and pulsing came from either side of Donny’s head.

“Ah… it seems we’ve reached the final part of your transformation, my love.”

Donny felt his ears twitching and growing and he closed his eyes for a moment. He was used to the feel of magic changing his body, and he welcomed it with an open heart now.

After just a few seconds, the magic slowed to a crawl and settled within him.

He reached up and tentatively felt his ears. His fingers had learned better by now than to expect anything human, and he giggled gently as he felt them brush up against a down-soft fur that coated his new, elongated donkey ears. Each one twitched slightly at his own touch before turning and aiming for the loudest sounds around them—namely, the foursome happening just a few feet away.

His hearing was also much sharper, able to distinguish more subtleties instantly, and again, Donny laughed softly at just how dull the rest of his human senses had been.

Kol reached up and scratched gently behind one of Donny’s new ears, drawing a low moan from his lover and a twitch from his hefty, equine shaft.

“Do you feel it now? That unending need?”

Donny closed his eyes and pressed a smile into Kol’s neck, lapping out with his tongue and tasting the salty combination of his lover’s sweat and his own come.

“I do. It’s… wonderful.”

Kol murmured an agreement, softly rolling his hips into Donny’s backside again.

“Satyrs can go all night. And day. Our need truly is unending, but so is the pleasure. Do you want to… share them both with me?”

Donny lifted his head up, feeling Kol’s shaft throbbing deep within him as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“I do.”

He leaned in and kissed Kol softly, their lips fitting perfectly together as their bodies thrummed with fae magic.

That night, The Chipped Horn gained yet another rumor, one that spread from the town of Kios and far into the lands beyond: that the great god Pan had gazed down from the heavens to watch two of his own kin, his perfect creatures of pleasure, his beautiful satyrs, weave their souls together in love.

People said that he blessed them both with the power to give anyone the life of a satyr, so long as that was what they truly desired. For so pure was their love that the great god Pan sought to use them as an example of what a life dedicated to pleasure, and beauty, and goodness could be like to all who yearned for it.

At least… that was what people said.

You’ll have to find out for yourself whether or not it’s true.

Donny skirted along the tiles of his bakery’s kitchen, hooves clopping softly as he flitted from station to station, checking the various bakes in progress.

It was amazing what a few weeks with a new body could change in a person’s life. Donny’s grasp of magic had grown leaps and bounds now that it was truly part of him. Everything was just that much easier for him to do. He barely had to think about a spell for it to occur around him, which made managing his bakery even easier.

A veritable deluge of new ideas and recipes had sprung up like an oasis in his mind over the past month, which meant that his unique creations had drawn the more curiosity of those far from Kios. Every day brought new customers who craved delicious tastes, interesting textures, and unheard of combinations, all of which Donny was more than happy to supply.

“Order #311!”

It was hot again today, especially with fur. Donny’s body was a lot of things now, but cool in the summer was not one of them. He was sweating with exertion, his apron tied just above his tail which waved lazily behind him as he looked into the crowd for the right customer.

“That one’s me, Donny!”

The donkey satyr’s face lit up at the sight of Theron, his minotaur friend. He towered above most of the crowd of eager customers, smiling widely at Donny who hurried over to him and lifted the entrance to the service counter. The bull-man was dressed only in a pair of loose-fitting pants and some leather bracers.

The satyr wrapped his arms around the minotaur’s waist and hugged him tightly, scratching his brown fur along his back for a moment before leaning up and letting the bull-man give him a deep kiss. He could feel the stares of some of the more snobbish patrons burning into him as he forced them to wait longer for their orders, but he paid them no mind.

“Order #312!”

Kol’s voice sounded from behind him as he turned and watched the other satyr hand a box of muffins to an elderly human man. Even after weeks of working alongside his lover, he still blushed at the sight of him filling out his apron so handsomely. No one looked good in an apron and yet, Kol always did.

“You claim one of the most beautiful satyrs I’ve ever seen as your mate and then instantly employ him as your assistant. You are living the life, my friend.”

Donny giggled softly and pulled Theron back past the counter, letting the hinged door drop back into place. He placed the minotaur’s order aside and glanced over at Kol as his lover looked towards him, nodding with a grin.

“Hello, Theron. Good to see you again.”

Kol grinned widely as he strode over to the two friends, sliding a hand around Donny’s waist as he tilted his head up to accept Theron’s kiss. Donny watched as Kol twitched his tongue over Theron’s a bit more than was normally socially acceptable and couldn’t help but feel a sharp bolt of pleasure shoot between his legs.

He licked his lips, causing Theron to arch an eyebrow.

“I really only came here for a loaf of bread but… well…”

“We could use your help getting some ingredients from the pantry, Theron. If you’ve got the time.”

Kol grabbed Donny’s hand and pulled him slowly towards the storeroom, kicking the door open with a hoof. Donny bit his bottom lip and tilted his head for Theron to follow them.

“Yeah. We definitely need someone to help us with those… hard to reach places. It should only take a few minutes, if you can spare it.”

The minotaur was suddenly very glad he was only wearing pants today. Donny snapped his fingers once, the sound reverberating off the walls of the small bakery overcrowded with people.

All at once, the orders began to bundle and box themselves, flying out rapidly to the crowd of customers. Each one landed softly in the hands of the correct person, and sighs of relief sounded from the bakery as Theron let the door to the pantry close behind him.

Donny and Kol stood naked in front of him, both of their shafts rapidly growing from their sheaths. Donny’s enormous, equine rod was already glistening and slick, and Kol’s nearly foot long shaft was leaking a steady drip of precome all over the floor.

Theron licked his tongue out over his muzzle as he watched the two satyrs kiss each other deeply. His own bull cock was proudly tenting out inside his now overly tight pants, and he hurried to shuck them off before he burst through yet another pair.

Donny walked up to him, eyes locked onto the giant bull cock sprouting between Theron’s furry thighs and knelt down in front of it.

“Oh wow… this is just the ingredient I was looking for.”

He bent forward and lapped at the leaking head with a soft moan. He watched as Kol knelt beside him and grabbed the base of Theron’s shaft, stroking it gently as he leaned in and lapped alongside his lover.

Theron shuddered and fell back slightly against the doorway, moaning out loud for a moment before laughing.

He watched as the two satyrs serviced his cock and closed his eyes slowly, grinning to himself.

“No wonder this place is so popular.”