FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

DISCLAIMER: This story contains strong scenes of Forced male animal transformation, muscle growth and male nudity, if this does not interest you or you feel offended by this content, please close the file, and look around for something you enjoy. If this is your sort of story, please sit back and enjoy.

“TO THE REAR…OPEN ORDER!”

The early morning air whipped Marshall’s face as he stood still as a statue, eyes staring straight ahead in line with his fellows, steadfast and resilient as the sound of footsteps sounded behind him.

“MARCH!”

The command rang in Marshall’s ears and with perfect synchronicity with the men around him, he marched forwards.

The company of men, all dressed in clean uniform, marched resolutely onwards in the wake of the bannerman through the cold morning, breath misting beneath their noses in the chill, footfalls echoing rhythmically across the base.

Rounding the parade ground before the barracks the company marched into position before halting in place, marching on the spot until the last of the parade had arrived.

“HALT!”

The ground immediately fell silent as the footfalls ceased.

The only sound came from the chilly breeze and the morning bird song.

“ROLE CALL!”

At the front of the line, his commanding officer, Sargeant Braig, stepped forwards and faced the line before beginning to call out the rank and surname of the regiment.

Each man stepping forwards as his name was called and answering with a loud “HERE SARGEANT!”

“PRIVATE THOMPSON!” bellowed the Sargeant and Marshall stepped forwards robotically.

“HERE SARGEANT!” he bellowed loudly before resuming his place in line.

Every day at the Morning Parade, Marshall felt the rush of pride for taking his place in his regiment, as part of the force that was defending his country.

It had been his dream since he was a kid to serve in the army and he had signed up the moment he was eligible.

He had never felt so proud.

The role call was quickly concluded and the Sargeant moved onto the usual morning notices and dictating specific tasks to individual squads.

Marshall listened attentively, standing at attention until the Sargeant marched forwards and stomped his boot authoritatively.

“STAND EASY! DISMISSED!”

Marshall relaxed his pose with the men around him before they began to disperse, most of them turning back towards the barracks to prepare for the day’s routine, he himself turned to follow his squad only for a loud voice to boom out behind him.

“Private Thompson!”

Marshall wheeled on the spot and stood back at attention.

“Sir!” he called out automatically, now seeing Sargeant Braig approaching with a large package in his hands.

“Private, deliver this to J-Block before you begin your drills” the Sargeant commanded, holding out the featureless package.

Marshall suddenly froze, an odd look shooting across his face and a slight tightening of his insides caused his composure to break for a second.

“Problem Private?” Sargeant Braig asked, his brow furrowing.

“N..No Sir!” Marshall replied, reaching out and taking the package which was surprisingly light considering its size, “I will deliver it at once!”

Sargeant Braig nodded.

“Deliver it to Captain Donoghue, Carry on, Private!” he stated before turning and striding away without another word.

Marshall remained where he stood for a moment until the Sargeant had passed out of sight before his shoulders drooped and he let out a sour snort.

“J-Block….really” he muttered sourly before turning and marching across the grounds, heading towards a large building separate from the main Barracks.

With each step closer, he felt a feeling of apprehension rising in his gut.

J-Block had grown to have a strange reputation on base because of what it represented.

The Jacks!

Several years previously, or so the record stated, an incident at a military medical lab involving animal testing had released some kind of substance into the environment after a freak accident involving what appeared to be a serum to give soldiers greater physical strength and endurance.

What had been the result was a monstrous mutation which had caused the subject to transform into a strange fusion of half man and half beast.

Specifically, a donkey.

The process was found to be irreversible, and the subject was kept for research to discover both the pros and cons of his new form as the serum had worked in at least one aspect, the man had gained considerable strength, stamina and vitality, but his body was now half donkey.

The lab continued their research, aiming to remove the unfortunate side effects…until the news quickly came of other sudden victims in the nearby vicinity of the lab.

Normal men, for it only affected men, were suddenly getting stronger, furrier and growing long ears and tails.

What had begun as an experiment gone wrong was now suddenly a massive biological nightmare and as more men began to transform at even greater distances from the lab meaning that it was impossible to contain and therefore impossible to cover up.

As the condition spread country wide and then worldwide, governments quickly branded it an international medical condition with no known source, prompting the World Health Organization officially to declared it a physical mutation as while it was life changing, the condition was quickly established not to be a disease or illness that could be caught or spread as the transformation appeared to be completely random, only affected men between the ages of 18 to 30 and showed no sign of being spread by close contact or any know forms of transmission.

Men affected by this condition were soon nicknamed ‘Jacks’ after the beast they now resembled and while some struggled to acclimatise to their changes, most found the increased strength and musculature the transformation endowed to be a blessing, adapting it into roles where strength was required although many people still were wary around such men and certain prejudices still ran high since the start of the outbreak.

One role that soon became a popular fit the Jacks was the military, as the ‘supposed’ original source it quickly became a good fit.

Jacks that enlisted were assigned into their own regiment on most bases that was separated from the main barracks and named J-Block.

The Jacks did join in with drills and physical activates, the same as any other soldier and most proved to be just like any other man in terms of personality, joking, playing and engaging in general horseplay with other soldiers and officers.

Yet their strange physicality was still off putting to people who weren’t close to them and Marshall, sadly, was among them.

He had never really met the Jacks on base and always felt slightly intimidated when he saw them marching across base, a mass of muscle that literally stood head and shoulders over the other men.

But Marshall had his orders, and he gulped as he strode up the large steps that lead to the large double doors of the J-Block building.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the door and entered the building.

The first thing that Marshall became aware of as the door slammed shut behind him was the sudden pungent smell and he gasped and staggered slightly as his senses were overwhelmed.

The large barrack was filled with the scent of what could only be described as a barnyard, the rich smell of hay and animals combined with the pungent sweaty smell of men, something Marshall was familiar with in his own barrack.

Composing himself and willing this task would be over quickly so he could return to fresh air, Marshall steadied himself and looked around.

The room was laid out much like his own shared barracks, lines of bunks lined the walls each with a large foot locker positioned at their base, the walls around were decorated with photos and other memorabilia and the open centre of the room contained chairs, tables and what looked like a large set of free weights.

Moving forwards, Marshall examined the nearest bunk and noticed that compared to the single mattress bunks he was used too, these bunks were near enough king sized, and the frames were heavily reinforced with additional framework.

“Can I help you Soldier” came a smooth, deep voice and Marshall whirled around and found himself staring at the midriff of an immensely muscular, easily seven foot tall man dressed in camo trousers that bulged obscenely and a tight fitting, olive green shirt that appeared to be straining to contain his massive biceps.

Staring up into the man’s ruggedly handsome face, Marshall’s eyes were drawn to the long pair of donkey ears that stood tall over the man’s head both covered in light grey fur that matched his short cut hair which didn’t suit the age of his face which was eying Marshall up in a way that made him feel a little self-conscious.

“Well?” the Jack prompted, crossing his arms and causing the sleeves of his shirt to strain as his biceps bulged, “What do you want? Or are you lost?”

Marshall shook his head violently, quickly trying to ground himself and complete his task.

“N..No Sir!” he stammered, regaining his composure and holding out the large parcel in his hands, “P…Private Thompson, I have orders to deliver this to Captain Donoghue.”

He hoped that the Jack would take the parcel and he would be able to leave, however the muscular man suddenly leaned in, on the pretext of trying to read something on the box before taking a long, deep sniff.

The Jack’s brown eyes narrowed, looking at Marshall appraisingly before smiling, his teeth seeming larger than would pass as normal.

“I see” he replied, standing back up, “I’ll take you too him now, c’mon Private.”

The Jack turned on his heel and began to march away down the barrack but Marshall’s eyes were drawn to the back of the man’s trousers where he saw a fabric sheath had been skilfully attached over the man’s clearly toned ass to allow the long, light grey donkey tail that protruded there to sway freely in the Jack’s wake.

Marshall’s eyes followed the tails progress for a few moments before he realised that the Jack was now a good twenty feet from him and he quickly hurried along to catch up, his eyes darting around at the other Jacks who all dressed in similar gear to his own but which had been tailored to their new physique.

“I’m Lieutenant Cole” the Jack leading him announced, continuing to keep pace down the room, “the captain’s office is at the rear, I’ll announce you.”

“Yes Sir” Marshall replied, trying not to stare as the pair drew level with a Jack was squatting down, rummaging through his footlocker and was completely naked.

Marshall’s eyes went wide as he saw that the man’s muscular body seemed to be fully covered head to toe in thick grey fur with the exception of a black mane than trailed down his back and crossed at his shoulder blades.

The Jack had clearly just got out of the shower judging from the towel that was discarded on his bunk and as he was squatting with his back to Marshall and Cole, Marshall got a clear view of the man’s muscular ass below his waving tail and saw to his surprise, a thick, dark, equine pucker that was snuggly positioned between his cheeks.

“GET A MOVE ON CORBETT!” Cole suddenly bellowed, and Marshall jumped, realising that he had actually stopped and to stare and Cole had again moved ahead by several feet.

“Drills start in five Corbett and unless you wanna be doing them in just your pelt I suggest you get dressed!”

“YES LIEUTENAAAAAAAAAAWWNT!” the Jack called Corbett responded and Marshall stepped back in alarm as the response slipped into a loud donkey bray.

Both Cole and the Jack didn’t seem bothered by the outburst however as the Jack quickly turned around and began to rummage again in his footlocker with a sense of urgency.

“Private, with me!” Cole called and Marshall quickly ran to catch up as they approached a large door at the end of the room.

“First time in J-Block Private?” Cole asked pausing outside the door and turning around to smile at his clearly uncomfortable junior.

“Y..Yes Sir” Marshall replied, not meeting his eye, “Is it that obvious?”

Cole let out a snort of laughter but quickly regained his composure.

“I could tell when you entered” he smiled, “But don’t worry I get the feeling you’ll get used to it.”

Marshall looked confused at this but before he could speak, Cole had rapped hard on the door and Marshall noticed that Cole’s fingertips appeared black and shiny like hooves.

“ENTHAAAWWW!” came a loud braying voice from behind the door and Cole opened the door and lead the way inside.

Following silently Marshall gripped the package as he took in the room which was decked in a multitude of military fanfare.

A large flag standing in the corner while the walls contained photos of various regiments and framed certificates and at the centre of the room was a large wooden desk, behind which sat a hulking figure whose deep brown eyes rose as the two men entered.

“Captain!” Cole announced, standing at attention, “Private Thompson has a delivery for you.”

Marshall stood stock still, holding the parcel in front of him while marvelling at the Captain who slowly rose to his feet, his long donkey ears bouncing.

“Thank you Lieutenant” the Captain grunted, “Dismissed!”

“Sir!” Cole replied before stepping out and closing the door leaving Marshall alone with the hulking captain.

There was an awkward silence as Captain Donoghue took in Marshall, his massive chest rising in his tight uniform as he took in deep breaths.

Marshall too was taking in the captain.

He easily was about eight feet tall with a body that would put any body builder to shame, his donkey ears were twitching and a long grey tail occasionally flicked into sight on either side of his tree trunk sized thighs between which was an enormous bulge containing something that was clearly not human.

“Well Private?” the captain said with a shrug, “I’m a busy Jack!”

“Oh!” Marshal gasped a blush rising in his cheeks, “Sir! I was ordered to deliver this too you by Sargeant Braig.”

He stepped forwards to hand the parcel to the Captain who still seemed to be sizing him up before taking the package in his massive hands and tearing it open.

Marshall remained where he stood, having not been dismissed and watched the Captain rummage around in the opened box before slowly pulling out a black leather harness with metal fastenings.

If the silence had been awkward until now, Marshall felt it intensify rabidly as his face went scarlet from trying not to react as the Captain stared from the harness to him with an odd expression.

Then the Captain snorted and laughed.

“Hahaha At ease Soldier” he laughed, “Ha ha HAAAAAAAAWW!”

The bray caught Marshall off guard as he relaxed his pose, and the Captain replaced the harness into the box.

“I can see you’re not used to Jacks, Soldier” the Captain grinned, placing the box behind the desk, “That’s actually a standard piece of uniform for this regiment.”

Marshall looked stunned, his mouth opening and closing randomly like a goldfish as he struggled to find the words.

“Speak freely Private” the Captain grinned.

Marshall gulped and asked the only question that came to mind.

“Wh….Why do you need that Sir?”

“Do you know how hard it is to get equipment into the field?” the Captain asked, “It takes massive equipment at a substantial cost of military funding, but when you got Jack’s like us with muscles like this.”

He flexed his arm, Marshall hearing the fabric of his shirt creak as it was pulled to breaking point over the Jack’s bulging bicep.

“Stronger, sustainable and more reliable than any machine!” the Captain finished with a grin, “That’s what the Jacks bring to the Army and that’s why we need the harnesses, they’re custom made for army haulage.”

Getting up and marching around the desk, Captain Donoghue retrieved the harness and proceeded to place it on a hook by the door. Marshall’s eyes, however, were drawn to the Captain’s feet…or lack of feet.

Sticking out of the end of the tight tanned trousers were a pair of thick black hooves that compressed the office carpet with each stride.

“You have hooves?”

The question slipped from Marshall’s mouth before he could stop himself and he quickly stared ahead and tried not to feel the Captain’s eyes on him as he turned back to the desk.

“Hard to miss right, Private?” the Captain replied, patting Marshall on the shoulder before returning around the desk and lifting his leg to show the thick black keratin.

“Yes I have hooves, it was my little addition.”

Marshall looked confused, “Addition?” he asked slowly.

Captain Donoghue nodded.

“All Jacks share several traits” he replied, “Ears, tail, brown eyes, grey hair, god like physique and our…well…our private parts.”

Marshall shifted in his seat as the blush rose again in his cheeks.

“But every Jack also has one additional change” Captain Donoghue continued, “Hooves, a muzzle, a full pelt of fur…I guess you saw Private Corbert out there judging from his brays.”

“Yeah I was wondering why he actually had fur” Marshall nodded before falling silent, he was beginning to feel the awkward about being given this lesson about Jacks, not that he wasn’t slightly interested.

His mind on his own duties, the silence began to drag out and he tried not to stare into the deep brown eyes they still seemed to be sizing him up, or the wide nostrils that flared with each breath.

“I…Is there anything further you require Sir?” Marshall asked finally.

Captain Donoghue blinked, looking slightly surprised before giving his head a slight shake, his long ears flapping.

“Yes, Right….Dismissed” he said suddenly, “To your duties Private!”

“SIR!” Marshall said firmly, standing at attention before turning and marching from the office and striding back up the now empty barracks.

Captain Donoghue heard the barrack door slam closed before letting out a sigh.

“COLE!” he called loudly, his voice echoing through the door and around the room beyond where the sound of footsteps joined the din and moments later Lieutenant Cole stood in the doorway.

“Sir!” he announced with a salute before standing at attention.

“At ease, Lieutenant” Captain Donoghue sighed, seeing the young Jack relax his pose and enter the office.

“Did you smell it too Captain?” Cole asked slowly, standing before the desk and looking meaningfully at his commanding officer.

“Yes I did” the captain replied slowly, “And it’s very close, better get a bunk ready.”

“Yes Sir” Cole replied, “Should I alert his Sargeant?

“I’ll handle that Lieutenant” Captain Donoghue replied, “Get it sorted and return to drills and be ready to act, Dismissed!”

“SIR!” Cole replied with a salute before heading out of the room whilst the Captain picked up his phone and began dialling.

“RAISE IT UP! CHARGE”

Marshall grunted and huffed as he and his squad lifted a large caber onto their shoulder and as one charged forward, running it down the length of the course in tandem with three other squads.

“DROP”

The caber hit the ground with a loud thump and the squad charged onwards, diving under a combat net and crawling through the mud.

“PICK UP THE PACE!”

Sargeant Braig’s voice rose over the pants and grunts of the men and Marshall rose to the challenge, his team performing the last set of the drills before falling into rank at attention, every man covered from head to toe in mud from the vigorous assault course.

As the last man fell into place the Sargeant began to move up and down the line.

“STAND FAST”

All men held their pose, gazing ahead.

“Good work today Squad!” Sargeant Braig continued, “Your times are down….and I expect that to be the trend! I want to see you match J-Squad! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

“SIR YES SIR!” the squadron exclaimed together.

“RIGHT FACE! DISMISSED!”

The squad turned as one and then marched away towards the barracks building, marching in silence till they had passed though the doorway and began to make their way to their assigned bunks.

Marshall winced slightly as he peeled the sweaty, mud splattered shirt over his head.

“Fuck” he gasped, staring down at his chest, “I’m getting ripped!”

Ever since he had joined the Army, Marshall had expected to see his physique improve and he was proud of the progress he had made over the last year in the definition of his body.

However today it was almost seeing his body for the first time after a hardcore workout, his pecs had been defining over the last month but now they were already a firm shelf standing over a set of forming abs.

Running his fingers gently over them he could feel the tight corded muscles quiver.

“Hey Thompson stop fondling yourself!”

Marshall gave a gasp a hand slapped his bare back, wincing at the cold sting, turning to see his bunkmate Josh grinning, already standing naked with a towel in his hand.

“We gotta get showered for tactical training in twenty” Josh continued, stepping past Marshall and heading for the shower block where most of the squad had already entered.

“Chop Chop!”

Quickly stripping off the rest of his clothes and folding them hurriedly, Marshall snatched up his towel and ran into the shower block, finding the nearest vacant stream and beginning to lather himself up with a nearby bar of soap.

Despite only giving himself a few minutes to wash the mud, sweat and grime from his body, Marshall couldn’t help but admire himself.

Feeling the strong muscles that had finally blossomed from his training and enjoying the feeling of his own strength, especially around his cock which was firming up from his own self-love.

“Shit…cool it” he suddenly thought, beginning to scrub his hair, “If the squad sees you jacking it, they’ll literally have you by the balls!”

Flashbacks ran though his head of basic training and how one of his squad mates had been caught in the act only to be pinned down, shaved and then forced to streak across the parade grounds.

He couldn’t help but smirk while at the same time not wishing to live out the memory.

Finishing his shower, Marshall ran back into the dorm as he dried himself off, seeing that most of his squad were already fully dressed.

Grabbing a fresh set of clothes from his footlocker, he pulled them on as quickly as he could, ignoring the fact that they felt a little snug around his chest and legs before hurrying onwards to his next task, feeling suddenly invigorated.

“C’MON MARSHALL!”

BANG!

“FUCK!”

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

The cheer echoes around the base bar as the group of men applauded Marshall who raised an arm in triumph while Morris gripped his wrist and looked rather sour in his defeat.

Travis, Collins, Dale and Morris were some of Marshall’s closest squad mates and through this friendship was born a furious competition against each other and always got together in the Base bar after the day’s activities to battle it out on some idiotic challenge.

Who could bench more weight?

Who could down more pints?

Who was the best at arm wrestling?

“OUR UNDEFEATED ARM-WRESTLING CHAMPION!” Travis cheered raising his beer and shaking Marshall’s shoulder whilst a chorus of cheers joined in the toast.

Mashall grinned, his newfound strength giving him a cockiness that shone through on his expression.

“Nice try Morris” Marshall grinned, leaning over and patting his comrade’s shoulder in commiseration who was still looking sour.

“Since when did you get so strong Thompson?” Morris snarled, “I usually wipe the floor with you!”

“All the training must be paying off” Marshall replied with a smile, raising an arm in a flex only to be caught off guard by the sound of shredding fabric and both men looked to see the sleeve of Marshall’s shirt seams had split over his huge bicep.

“Fuckin’ Hell Marshall!” Morris cried, his jaw nearly hitting the floor, “What the hell are you on?”

Marshall appeared too shocked to respond, staring disbelievingly at his arm before slowly turning his head to examine the other and his stomach leaped as he saw his left was just as strong as his right.

“What the hell?” he thought as a worrying feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, “I wasn’t this big earlier!”

“Woah nice guns Thompson” Collins grinned, staring pointedly at Marshall’s arms as others began to notice too.

“Man, what’s your secret?” Travis asked, rubbing his hand over Marshall’s arm.

“You breakin’ curfew to pump iron?” Collins grinned from behind him.

“Whatever you’re taking dude you gotta share it!” Dale chuckled.

The onslaught of questions, admiration and suspicion was only adding to Marshall’s fear and all he wanted to do at that moment was to get out of there and get a good look at himself.

“Guys…I…I errr…gotta get back to the barracks” Marshall stammered and before they could stop them he bolted out of the bar.

“Woah dudes, ya think he’s jacking out?” Morris asked, watching the door swing closed as two Jacks entered in Marshall’s wake and headed to the bar.

The barracks were deserted when Marshall burst through the door and charged down the line of bunks to where a large mirror stood on the far wall.

Peeling off his shirt and throwing it to the floor, he stared at his reflection in stunned disbelief.

His chest was now fully filled out with toned muscle.

His pecs standing in a proud shelf over a rolling eight pack giving him the look of a powerful hunk.

Lifting his arms, he watched the muscles ripple, tensing and become distinct as he raised them into a flex that accentuated his entire torso.

He looked incredible.

Yet Marshall was lost in confusion on how his physique could have gone from zero to hero in just one day.

Were the results of his training really just showing itself?

Was the army secretly drugging their food with steroids?

Then his eyes went wide as his mind wandered back to J-Block and the muscular bodies of the Jacks.

His breath caught in his throat.

He was in the age range, and no one ever knew how it spread, had being in J-Block earlier exposed him?

“N..No!” Marshall gasped, stepping closer to the mirror and hurriedly examining his ears and eyes.

They looked the same as normal, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Dropping his trousers to his ankles he examined his legs and ass, again marvelling at the increased musculature but his eyes focused on his cock.

“Oh, thank fuck” he sighed, seeing that his manhood was completely human if not appearing slightly larger against his toned muscles.

Twisting on his heel he looked over his bubbled ass and was again relieved to see no signs of a tail.

“Thank god” he gasped, reaching down and quickly pulling his trousers back up, “I’m not turning.”

He snatched up his shirt and stumbled back to his bunk just as the barrack doors opened and other members of his squadron filed in, all laughing and chatting.

“Hey there he is!” Dale called spotting Marshall hurriedly pulling his shirt back on, “You doing alright dude?”

“Yeah, Fine!” Marshall replied, his voice a little shaky, “Just needed to check something, it’s all good thought.”

Marshall turned to look at his friends and saw that they had all gathered around him and were staring intently at different parts of his body.

“Guuuuys” he said slowly, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing” Morris said, his eyes flicking between Marshall’s ears, “Just thought we saw something”

“Yeah” added Travis, who was crouching behind Marshall and was staring at the exposed small of his back where his tight shirt was riding up.

“Just wanted to make sure you were ok!”

As each man grew closer, Marshall began to feel that sense of creepy claustrophobia.

“What the hells with you all” he cried, getting back to his feet and looking at his friends who were still admiring him closely.

Morris sighed and shook his head.

“Sorry Marshall” he said slowly, “we just thought that…well…we thought that you maybe….Jacking out!”

Marshall felt his heart catch in his throat before letting out a long nervous laugh.

“Hehehe…R..r..really guys?” he stammered, “You think I’m Jacking out?”

He quickly turned on the spot.

“You see any signs that I’m turning?”

“Well, you literally are ‘jacked’ now” Collins chuckled, “That was literally overnight bro”

“Or maybe you guys just didn’t notice till I outgrew my shirt!” Marshall retorted, hoping they would swallow the excuse, “I mean c’mon dudes have you seen yourselves?”

The other men all looked at each other and began pulling flexes and Marshall felt a slight relief as he saw some of their faces split into vain smiles.

“See dudes, we all got jacked” Marshall continued, sitting back down on his bunk and beginning to unlace his boots, “It’s just the results of hard work!”

The others quickly dispersed after that, heading back to their own bunks to prepare for Lights Out.

Marshall organised everything as per his usual routine in case of drill and for the morning parade, yet he still felt uneasy, the concern that he really could be Jacking out lingering in his mind as he settled himself and the lights went out.

Throughout the night he tossed and he turned, seeing in his mind Lieutenant Cole and Captain Donoghue.

Their muscular physique.

Their long ears and tails.

The way their voices dissolved into brays.

His eyes snapped open in the pitch black and Marshall found himself panting in a cold sweat.

Why was he thinking that?

Why was he dreaming that?

Grunting, he turned over and closed his eyes while the squad around him slept peacefully.

“I’m not a Jack…I’m not….” He thought resiliently as sleep began to take over again but yet again his dreams were plagued by J-Block and he continued to toss and turn uneasily as the night rolled on.

“THOMPSON GET UP!”

Marshall’s eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, wincing as he bumped his head on the upper bunk.

“Wha…what’s wrong?” he said blearily as he rubbed his eyes, the face of Collins swimming into focus.

“Get Up Man!” his squat mate said with a sense of urgency, “Morning parades in like five minutes!”

Marshall felt a chill run through him as he threw his legs off the bunk and hurriedly began to sort himself as Collins shot off towards the barracks door.

“Fuck how could I oversleep” Marshall grunted.

He had never been late to parade and hadn’t even drunk much the night before, so he wasn’t hungover, yet his body felt strangely stiff and lethargic as he pulled on his boots which felt strangely tight before attempting to pull on his shirt.

“WHAT THE HELL!” he gasped, finding that the shirt only came to his midriff and left his navel exposed, showing off firm, tight abs.

Looking over himself, he was shocked to see that his muscles seemed to have increased even further through the night.

“Shit” he cursed, diving quickly to his footlocker and rummaging around until he found another shirt that was slightly larger, although when he pulled it over his now impressive bulk it was skin tight and threatened to ride up with every move of his arms.

He knew now that there was no mistaking it.

He was clearly Jacking Out, there was no natural way he could grow this much in a night and he felt a surge of dread about the changes that were soon to come.

Before he could dwell too much on it though, the sound of a bugle echoes through the open barracks door and despite being in disbelieving shock, the trained soldier within Marshall forced him to his feet and he bolted down the barracks, gripping his shirt to keep it down as he ran out of the building.

The morning was crisp and bright and Marshall gasped in the chill air as he ran down to where his squad was assembled and he quickly found his spot in formation and tried to ignore the gasps and looks he received.

“TO THE REAR...OPEN ORDER!”

The starting order told Marshall he was just in time, despite appearing dishevelled compared to his fellows in their fresh clothes, he was not late for Role Call.

Sargeant Braig moved up the rank and Marshall was positive he received a double take from his own commanding officer as he passed yet he gritted his teeth and remained staring ahead, ever the good soldier.

“MARCH!”

The command was given and squad proceeded to march in militaristic formation, arms swinging as the steps echoed in a single sound.

Marshall was trying to keep his composure, but it was growing harder as his body suddenly began to feel warm despite the cool morning.

With each step his shirt began to ride higher, exposing his abs to his fellows but he continued to march, the heat growing and a strange burning rising in his ears.

To the men behind him their eyes went wide as they watched the ears of the man before them begin to stretch, the skin stretching as they stuck out on either side of his head before rising higher up his head until they crowned him, the pale skin darkening as thick grey hairs sprouted along their lengths until they twitched, a fully formed pair of tall, furry donkey ears.

Marshall could feel it happening, he felt his new ears twitch and it was taking all of his self control to remain in formation and not to run and scream.

The heat in is body was rising and he suddenly felt his clothes growing tighter, cutting into his body as his muscles suddenly began to bulge.

The sound of tearing fabric sounding over the footfalls and some of the men around him couldn’t help but stare as the seams on Marshall’s shirt and trousers split from the sheer mass of his swelling frame

“Mmmph” he grunted, unable to contain it as he felt his combat trousers grow tighter in both the front and the back.

His ass swelling with muscle as the bubbling cheeks pressed apart and his hole began to pucker, the skin becoming black, leathery and sensitive as it began to rub against his boxers.

In the front it was a different story, his cock pulsed in the tight confinement and began to leak as it swelled, the skin darkening as the mushroom tip was flattened against the moistening fabric until it resembled something equine.

The bulge grew bigger and bigger and Marshall’s nose flared, taking in not only his own musk from his lack of shower, but also the increasing lust as his scent changed and he got familiar hints of what he has smelt in J-Block.

A rich, earthy barnyard stench.

His larger ass began to throw off Marshall’s gait, another large bulge beginning to form an adding pressure to the already straining fabric.

Marshall tried to ignore the feeling, some alien sensation above his ass.

He knew what it was, but he didn’t want to accept it as tears began to form in his eyes.

Pushing his horror aside, Marshall tried his best to remain in step while his feet began to ache as they stretched inside his boots, the firm hardwearing leather earning its keep with each heavy stomp on the pavement, but it was already beginning to bulge unnaturally at the toe.

The parade turned and entered the main parade ground, the squads beginning to form the lines.

Marshall followed the march, his soldier’s instinct still overriding the panic and fear that was now evident on his face, his composure slipping as more and more of his clothes began to tear.

With a snap, his shirt almost fell away, now exposing most of his immensely muscular torso to the world, the dark hairs on his pecs becoming brighter as they softened and became a light grey which soon matched his hair which faded too to a light grey and making Marshall look like he had just aged several decades.

“HALT”

The Order sounded and with his squad, Marshall fell in line, marched on the spot and then stomped with one last footfall before silence fell across the parade ground.

Although it wasn’t quite silent.

As the last footfall stopped there were two loud bursting snaps as Marshall’s boots burst apart, revealing his frayed and torn socks.

Marshall couldn’t help it, he tried his best to glance down over his massive pectoral shelf and his eyes widened as he saw something truly inhuman sticking out of the remnants of his boots.

His feet had stretched to a size that no shoe could envelop, but it wasn’t that that caught Marshall’s attention, it was the fact that his exposed toes were now almost jet black and swollen to the point that they appeared to be merging into one another, the feeling fading within them to the point that he tried to flex his digits but he felt nothing but numbness.

Marshall then realised that, like Captain Donoghue, he was going to be cursed with having hooves instead of feet.

The numbness was causing him to become unsteady, the flats of his feet no longer able to take his mass as his body continued to shift and he was forced to shift his stance, standing on his numb toes that sounded out with an audible clop and the shift in stature caused his head to rise literally head and shoulders above his squadron, the shredded remains of his boots falling around his now full formed hooves.

“ROLL CALL!”

The Sargeant called out and Marshall tensed, feeling everyone’s eyes now upon him, his body continuing to swell as the continual sound of tearing fabric echoed into the silence that was only broken by the responses to the roll call.

Marshall winced, his trousers were almost completely at breaking point, his muscular thighs already visible through the torn seams while the two enormous bulges at his front and back pulsed threateningly.

All Marshall wanted was to be dismissed so he could run, his long donkey ears were focussed directly ahead at his Sargeant, making sure he heard each name that was announced, knowing his own was growing close and closer.

He braced himself, wishing his clothes could hold out until the end.

“PRIVATE THOMPSON!”

Sargeant Braig called out Marshall’s name and Marshall could hear something off in his commanding officer’s voice.

Taking a deep breath, Marshall stepped out of the formation to stare at his commander.

“HERE SARGEEEEEAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWNT!”

RIIIIIIIP!

A pressure that had been building in Marshall’s chest suddenly seemed to burst forth as he responded and what came out was a long, loud bestial bray that echoes loudly around the parade grounds.

But it was not the only sound as, at the same moment Marshall let out his first bray, his trousers finally gave way.

The strain finally too much, the fabric finally gave way and with surprising force, the bulges in the front and back of Marshall’s trousers burst apart.

Above his ass, raising a several fragment of cloth like a flag of surrender, a long, ropey tail surged into the air before it flopped down to hang before Marshall’s now exposed donkey pucker, thick grey hairs coating its length until thick black tassel formed the end.

The story was the same at the front, the moist fabric shredding apart and to Marshall’s complete horror, exposed himself to the entire squadron.

His cock now swung lazily between his legs, mirroring the sway of his new tail.

Gone was the familiar six inch human cock he had known his entire life, replaced now by a beer can thick, ten inch equine rod, the flat tip leaking his musky pre onto the remnants of his uniform.

Nobody moved for a moment, everyone around was lost in uncomprehending shock at the entire situation.

Marshall would have given everything he owned in the world to disappear forever.

His face was now a furious red from the sheer humiliation of what he had become for that had been the final shift in his transformation and the man he had once been was now gone forever.

Marshall stood there as a completed Jack.

The immediate urge was to run, but still within him the soldier stood and to looks of horror and disgust from several members of his squad.

Marshall resumed his place in line.

The Seargent seemed stunned for a moment before the names resumed, albeit at a surprisingly faster pace.

Marshall merely stood there at attention, tyring not to move, or completely break down as tears fell down his cheeks.

“STAND EASY! DISMISSED!”

The order came quickly and the moment it did, the reaction was immediate.

Every member of Marshall’s squadron dived away from him leaving him stood near enough in a centre of onlookers, all of whom were staring straight at him.

His long ears could immediately hear the horrified whispers from everyone nearby, but he didn’t take the time to listen for the first moment he was able.

He ran.

“PRIVATE THOMPSON!”

The voice of Sargeant Braig rang out over the increasing mutters, however for the first time in his entire miliary career.

Marshall ignored the command of his superior.

His hooves clopping loudly on the hard ground, the newly minted jack charged off the parade ground and disappeared from sight.

It was a spot where most soldiers went to hide from the commanders.

A small, enclosed and secluded area behind one of the barracks, hidden from windows and from base surveillance.

Usually popular in the evening where soldiers could get a little privacy they wouldn’t often get within their barracks, only now, in the middle of the day, the spot was occupied by a single figure, doubled over and in floods of tears.

Marshall couldn’t stop himself, he felt like his life was over, and in some ways, he already knew it was.

He was a Jack now, a mutant donkeyman.

Doomed to live the rest of his life with hooves, tail, ears and donkeys cock.

After fleeing the parade grounds he had come to the only place he knew he couldn’t be seen and had basically stripped himself to examine himself, the tattered remains of his clothing in a damp, musky pile near where he sat.

“What am I going to do now” he thought, wiping his eyes as various scenarios ran through his mind.

What would his parents say?

Would they accept him anymore?

Where would he stay now, surely his squadron would want his out!

They wouldn’t want a smelly, muscular donkeyman living in their space

“HEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWW!”

The bray left his lips before he could stop himself and it was followed by yet more tears.

He sounded like a beast.

A stupid, smelly beast.

Yes.

That’s all he was now.

As he spiralled further into his own depression, his ears suddenly shot up to attention and Marshall gasped as he suddenly heard the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

His head flew around as he jumped to his hooves with a clatter, staring around desperately for a way to escape as the footsteps grew louder.

But there was none and Marshall could do was cover his shame with his large hands as two people emerged into the area, Sargeant Braig and Lieutenant Cole.

“There you are Private!” Cole sighed in apparent relief while Sargeant Braig averted his eyes, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Marshall stared at his hooves, not making eye contact with either man and seemed unable to form words before a loud thud distracted him completely and he stared at a large bundle that Cole had just tossed to him.

“Get dressed Private” the Lieutenant smiled, “We’ll wait”

Lieutenant Cole then turned on the spot and Sargeant Braig quickly followed suit, looking away while Marshall stared at the package before moving forwards gingerly and opening it.

Inside was a large pair of boxers, camo trousers and tan coloured vest, al three of which were far larger than anything uniform he had ever seen before, the trousers were even customised with a sleeve for a tail. Marshall instinctively knew these would fit his new frame, and he gratefully pulled them on, feeling a sense of relief at having suitable clothing but it did not clear his immense lingering dread.

“That’s more like it” Lieutenant Cole smiled, turning back when Marshall had cleared his voice before striding over to the new Jack and patting his shoulder.

“You OK Private?”

Marshall took one look at the Lieutenant, his watery eyes wide before he shook his head, still unable to speak.

Cole snorted.

“I’m honestly not surprised” he said slowly before turning his head to Sargeant Braig, “Front and centre Braig, don’t you have something to say?”

Marshall looked up as Sargeant Braig approached gingerly, wringing his hands and looking uncomfortable.

It was strange seeing him like this, from Marshall’s perspective, the Sargeant had always been a stern commander, but he had always been firm but fair and generally approachable.

This behaviour however seemed more on the lines of a Private caught in wrongdoing.

Finally stopping a few feet from Marshall, Sargeant Braig took a deep breath before looking into Marshall’s now completely brown eyes.

“Private Thomson” he began nervously, “I…I wanted to apologise…I should have stopped the parade the moment that…that…well you know”

A chilly silence fell on the enclosed area.

“It was poor judgement on my part Private” Sargeant Braig continued, “I didn’t mean it to cause you distress…or cause you further distress in what I need to say now”

His tone of voice shifted and Marshall felt a sudden surge of dread.

“I am also sorry to say this Private…as of now you are dismissed and no longer a member of my squadron” Sargeant Braig said very quickly and sternly, “This has been confirmed by Major Shaw…this wasn’t an easy decision Private…but we just don’t have the capacity to tend to the needs of a Jack”

“That’s enough Sargeant” Cole said stiffly, “Dismissed”

“SIR!” Sargeant Braig shouted before turning and leaving the area.

Marshall began to tremble again, his eyes welling up at the announcement that he was no longer registered in a squadron and therefore would have to apply to other Captains else risk being discharged.

And in his mind there was only one place where Jacks were accepted.

Any other opportunity was likely lost to him forever now.

His throat bulged and he tried his best to hold back both his tears and the clear bray that was clearly desperate to get out.

“Calm down Private”

A gentle touch on his shoulder and Marshall turned his watery eyes towards the Lieutenant who was gazing at him with a sympathetic smile.

“It’s not all doom and gloom” Cole went on, “C’mon let’s take a walk”

Now that he was clothed, Marshall was a little less resistant to leave the enclosed area but he still kept his head down as the muscular Lieutenant marched him around the base.

“I’m sorry it had to haaawwwppen this way Private” Cole brayed, “I had a sense it would be soon”

Marshall’s ears flicked and he looked surprised.

“Y..you knew?” he asked, “How?”

Cole smiled.

“We Jacks can kind of sense when someone is going to turn” he replied, gesturing to his nose, “it’s in the scent so to everyone else its random but we kind of get the heads up.”

Marshall’s eyes narrowed and his ears bent back in frustration.

“Then why didn’t you tell me!” he cried accusingly, “Instead of letting it HAAAAAAAWW!”

He slapped his hands to his mouth as he tried to suppress the bray.

“..happen in front of everyone” he finishes weakly.

Cole gave Marshall a knowing look.

“It’s not an exact art Private” he said slowly, “If it were I wouldn’t haaawve made an ass of myself when I turned”

Marshall stared back at him and saw that the Lieutenants expression had become rather sour.

“Dare I ask Sir?” he asked.

Cole snorted, his nostrils flaring.

“I made an ass of myself on the biggest day of my life” he said wistfully, “my wedding day!”

Marshall’s jaw dropped.

“Right in the middle of the vows” Cole continued with a chuckle, “we never finished them…she didn’t like the ass I was inside.”

Marshall felt a pang of guilt.

“Sir…I..I didn’t mean” he stammered, “Sorry.”

Cole shook his head.

“Its fine Private” he continued, “It was tough time…but I found my place here, Captain Donoghue met me after my leave and I moved into J-Block, I’ve never looked back since,”

He looked at Marshall and his smile returned.

“I think you should join us in J-Block, Private” he said, a serious tone in his voice, “From what Braig told me, you never faltered during the parade even while you transformed, you kept your head and you waited until the duty was done and you were dismissed”

He stopped and gripped Marshall’s shoulder.

“That is the sign of a good soldier, Private, and something we value highly both in J-Block and in the Army as a whole” Cole grinned, “Captain Donoghue has put in a request to have you transferred with immediate effect…If you want to continue in the Army as a Jack, Private, J-Block may be your only option but I promise you that you’ll never regret joining us.”

Marshall felt his ears bend back from the praise and for the first time since his change, he smiled.

“It’s always been my dream to serve Sir” he said slowly, “If being in J-Block means I can stay in the service, then I’ll go where I can do my duty!”

Cole smiled, gesturing the new Jack along the path back to the familiar secluded barracks.

“You’ll go far Private, Now let’s get you to your new bunk!”

They marched across the base, Marshall slowly becoming more accustomed to walking on his hooves.

“Don’t worry about those Private” Cole winked, “Captain Donoghue and a couple of the other squaddies with hooves get a monthly farrier appointment to keep those hooves in shape, but you are expected to care for them as you would your boots”.

“They just feel so clunky” Marshall grunted, stomping a heavy hoof.

“You’ll get used to them Private” came a harsh voice from behind.

Both Jacks wheeled around to see Captain Donoghue approaching them, tail wagging and shiny hooves clopping.

“I see the Lieutenant tracked you down after that little show” the Captain continued with a smile, “You doing alright Soldier?”

“Better Sir” Marshall replied, standing a little taller, “I…It’s a big change…and I know I can’t ghaaawww back…”

He couldn’t help wincing at the bray in his words.

“But I still want to serve my country Captain!” he continued with renewed vigour, “So if you’ll have me Sir! I will serve J-Block with all I have!”

Both the Lieutenant and Captain grinned widely before they both clapped him on the shoulder as they continued down the path, the barracks coming into sight.

“Welcome to J-Block, Private Thompson” Captain Donoghue, “You’re gonna make a fine Jack!”