FSE

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The brass lamp tumbled from Bhavan’s fingers to clatter on the terracotta floor tiles. His clumsy hooves had caught on a basket as he turned a corner. Running wasn’t something Bhavan did these days. Running from his own guild employees? It would have been unthinkable, yesterday.

‘They’ll catch me now for sure,’ he thought to himself, sprawled on the ground, as he nursed his ankle. It was tender between his hock and hoof. Injured, probably not broken.

Perhaps he should give up the lamp as they demanded. Make peace with losing his position as guildmaster, losing his membership entirely, and then prepare for a prison stay in darkness under the city. What would it be? Six months? No, for stealing this lamp, a fourth tier magical item, it would be a few years. One’s societal standing or personal worth could not bar justice in the case of fourth tier matters.

Lanternlight from the pillars gleamed off the brass lamp. Bhavan took it into his big hands again, four fingers and two thumbs encircling it.

“No. I’ve made my choice.” And he’d suffer the consequences, should they catch up to him.

Running footfalls and raised voices approached from whence he’d come. Bhavan, already looking for a hiding place as he rose, reached for the nearest door. On the second floor of this residential compound, the door could lead anywhere. He limped in, and pulled the door shut behind him. Darkness. Being a gaur, a type of water bison, he could see nothing. He sniffed through his great nostrils. Smelled like dust, textiles, and cleaning solutions.

He felt around, finding the room quite large for what he was sure was essentially a broom closet. After bumping his horns on rolled up carpets and broomsticks, he fancied himself hidden toward the back of the clutter. As hidden as an overweight, clumsy, businessman gaur in his fifties could be. Far less hidden than any of the guild members involved in retrieving the lamp, whose hard work he’d selfishly chosen to profit from.

The individuals giving chase ran by the door outside. No one stopped to check it. Probably on their second more thorough pass, they would. He had a few minutes perhaps. Bhavan’s heart rate was slowing, not speeding up. He heaved a sigh though not one of relief. Was he disappointed in his guildies failing to check this room? He found he’d made peace with the impulsive decision he’d made to steal the lamp from the identification queue. He didn’t much care whether he was found or not, imprisoned or not. Maybe that was the root of his problem. Maybe that’s why he, so uncharacteristically, snatched it. Hm. Bhavan was no therapist and couldn’t claim even to understand himself.

His hoof-capped fingers caressed the smooth contours of the lamp. His tail swayed on dusty tile. Was it really a Genie’s Lamp? If it wasn’t, he’d sure thrown his life away for nothing. But if it was…

“What do I wish for first?” He had a couple of ideas. He pictured himself spending his last minutes as guildmaster and a free gaur by thinking and fine-tuning his wish phrasing, only to discover the lamp was a far more common magical item than he’d hoped. His natural bovine temper quickly rose. What if he rubbed the lamp and was given nothing but a magical flame? Bhavan would tear this building down if that were to happen.

He snorted as he stood tall on his hooves and rubbed the side of the lamp decisively.

The black hair of Bhavan’s hands were first to be illuminated, followed by his broad chest and arms, then the shelves of the storage room. Luminescent red smoke was snaking out of the lamp. Puffing, roiling, building! It swirled about Bhavan as it grew into a miniature hurricane of whirling magical clouds. He stepped back once, and again, until he was pressed against a shelf at the room’s corner.

The clouds rumbled as they ceased growing. They filled out, gaining more definition, different tones of color, the proportions of a person. Then all at once, they contracted into a specific form: a tigerfolk man.

Like the smoke, his pelt was glowing a burnt orange color, striped with white. Dark, earthy brown was the only other color to be found on the tri-colored genie. Golds and purples did adorn his vest and poofy pants. He was bare-pawed. His unnaturally fluffy tiger tail extended out from his bottom and all the way to the mouth of the lamp. Yes, certainly a genie.

“I’ve caught you on the run, I see. Or on the hide I should say, mm? Couldn’t wait to give it a rub could you?” Humor and warmth permeated the tiger’s words.

“You know how it is,” Bhavan returned. “How many times have you emerged into more chaotic circumstances?”

“Do you wish to know? Kidding.” The tiger floated toward Bhavan, looking the gaur up and down, sniffing at his neck and horns. “Yeah, you feel like the kind of guy who knows what he’s dealing with. You’re right, this situation’s on the tamer side. What’s your name?”

“Guildmaster Bhavan. Soon to be Former Guildmaster Bhavan.”

“Oh you know it doesn’t have to be like that. You just say those magic words, --”

“Some clarifications first, please, sir genie.”

The tiger laughed. He floated on his back in the center of the room, an ankle over the other knee. His tail managed to sway and flick lazily before becoming a proper tether.

“I’ll give you the short version since you know what’s going on. I’m a genie from the Burning Plane. Ashilor. I’m bound to the lamp for eternity. I gotta grant one wish to the being that rubs it up. Then that being can never benefit from my service again. My amazing powers only stretch so much, so I advise against wishing for more wishes or another lamp or something like that. And, I can only hang around for a week before needing to recover in my lamp.”

Bhavan bowed. “I appreciate the explanation, great Ashilor.”

“It’s fine. I’m not here to screw you over. I’m here to have fun. So I hope you’re a cool fellow, Bhavan.”

The gaur nodded, and took to pacing.

“No wish idea yet, huh?”

“I fear not.”

“You want some help? I’ve got a bit of experience in the matter.”

Bhavan chuckled. “You will not try to manipulate me?”

“Nah. I like my job. You’re polite, smart, I’ll help you out.”

“Please.”

The demarcation between Ashilor’s stripes faded as a billow swept through his fur. His form reshaped like a cloud in the sky on a blustery day. Now there floated an owl person. Great white eyes peered at Bhavan from where the owl perched on an empty metal shelf. The vest and pants shrank to fit.

Before the genie could speak, Bhavan asked, “You can change your shape?”

“Sure can,” he said, though his voice was owlish and female now. “Keeps the conversation dynamic and interesting, does it not? Although I admit I cannot help but taking on the characteristics of the form I choose in part.”

Bhavan’s mood grew thoughtful. Sad, even. He crossed his big arms. “You are a natural shapeshifter. Do you have a form to call your own? A gender?”

The owl preened the top of her wing for a moment. “Were I to rack my mind, I’m certain I could narrow down my first form to, say, less than three options. But why? To change is my nature. I find it freeing and pleasant.”

“Freeing,” Bhavan echoed. “Do you hate your fate, yearning to be free? Or are you naturally servile, enjoying your arrangement?”

“Naturally servile?” The owl flapped down to the tile before Bhavan. As the sole source of light, a new set of shadows was cast through the red room. Her feathers became indistinct like smoke until they were a gleaming and smooth fur pelt of dark orange. Her small beak widened into a feline snout. Bhavan met the pupils of her new eyes, the dark brown slits of a panther.

“I daresay that I am,” Ashilor purred. Her hand caressed one of Bhavan’s long ears. Reflexively it twitched. She smiled. “I like making my masters happy. Most of them.” She learned forward against him. Her vest was pushed aside by her breasts. Bhavan could feel their nipples through his thin linen shirt.

“It helps when they’re respectful but fun,” she whispered.

As she drew back, Bhavan figured it would be polite to share certain information. “I prefer men,” he said.

“Ah. I wondered when I failed to catch a whiff of arousal. Figured you were a little too old. My mistake.” Her form began to blur again, but stabilized. “Perhaps I’ll stay female like this, then. I’m not here to seduce you.”

Bhavan looked at her, looked through her. Imagined what she could be. She could probably be most things. He felt a tingle within his groin at some of those possibilities.

“Tsk tsk,” said Ashilor with a wagging finger. “Don’t be thinking with your dick, Bhavan. You wanted my help picking a wish. Sex is fleeting pleasure, even if we all enjoy it so.”

The gaur gripped his arm. Her words stung. He was a guildmaster. He’d earned this place. He was wise and not given to temptation. Not usually. What was wrong with him today? What was at the root of this life souring he’d been experiencing? There was a yearning within him that he’d felt when he plucked the lamp into his hands. It had sparked feelings from the bland dunes of his being that he’d not felt in many years. Was this a mid-life crisis? No, it wasn’t his mortality that compelled him.

He wanted to articulate a proper beginning to his thoughts. He wanted to provide Ashilor footing to stand on so they could explore a proper wish together. Bhavan struggled to do so. Embarrassment, an emotion uncommon and most unwelcome to the gaur, warmed his face, made his horns feel heavy. Was he so lost?

“Come on, spit it out Bhavan. I’m here to help.”

Finally, and mindful of his words, Bhavan met the genie’s eyes again. “I only wish to feel alive again.”

The red glow intensified for a moment from the power of Bhavan’s invocation. Uttering that simple word was all it took. Ashilor’s paws drifted from the ground as she inhaled deeply. The glow faded and she alighted again on tile as she exhaled.

“Your wish is my command.” With sudden pep, she snapped her fingers. “Right! First things first. Change in scenery. I sense a lot of complicated, mournful angst in that wish, and this is not the place to treat depression.”

Bhavan held up both arms as she pounced with a yowl toward his face. She grabbed him by the shoulders, supernaturally strong, and hoisted him through the air, the shelving, the wall, all of it. The leap felt like being shoved back-first into a deep puddle of thick mud. Then Bhavan blinked at the sudden assault of sunlight from clear blue skies. His hooves had sank an inch into the ground: white sands. Some palm trees here, the gentle surf of the ocean there. Yes, she’d teleported them around the world to some secluded tropical island.

“Second, a change in form more fitting. Gotta keep some disbelief suspended eh? Let’s see, tropical, isolated, peaceful.”

“A marine iguana. Male,” supplied Bhavan. “Please.”

“You are really pent up aren’t you? You like ‘em small, medium, big?”

“Big.”

Ashilor laughed and it dropped over an octave in pitch. His torso grew much wider along with the stance of his legs. A large iguana’s tail took the dainty panther tail’s place. He turned in place for Bhavan’s benefit. The gaur watched spines grow along Ashilor’s crest, back, and head. Whiskers and ears shriveled, replaced by scaly lips, and bulbous cheek and neck structures. He reached out to Bhavan with a reptilian hand. Bhavan took it.

The guildmaster was naturally big, very big. None of the few partners he’d had were as big as him. He’d been with a python. A peacock. A zebra. A few others. He’d never managed to get with an elephant. Being a guildmaster had its perks, but even so, few wanted to be with a quiet, serious, slow-moving type like Bhavan. The ones who might have were tied up with families or resigned to solitude. The people who faked enjoyment of his personality to be with him, the wealthy and respected guildmaster, Bhavan pushed away. He’d grown a sense for those people, with time. That left slim pickings in his city for mature homosexual males.

That Ashilor had become impossibly large so as to easily wrap two scaly arms around his neck was an incredible boon, to Bhavan. He gripped the genie above his waistline tightly. He knew he’d not harm such a powerful creature with a properly strong embrace. Bhavan held the iguana man, snout to collarbone, and let the world and its circumstances fall away with the closing of his eyes.

Ashilor allowed the moment to be silent. And again, Bhavan was grateful.

“Thank you,” the gaur said when the moment had passed, and stepped away. He found his smile remained.

Softly, the genie replied. “You’re welcome. I think I understand more now what ‘feel alive again,’ means. Perhaps more than you do?”

“Oh?” Bhavan let himself fall backward. His big rump planted in warm sand. The nearby palms swayed in a light sea breeze. Salty.

Ashilor changed forms again. Scales became hairy hide, particularly coarse and ample about the back of the neck and the top of the head. Spines sank, but heavy bovine horns sprouted from the brows. Long-toed, webbed hind feet compacted into hooves. Ashilor allowed the pants to resize as he grew, but not the vest. The open vest stayed relatively small, no doubt to highlight the massive male physique swelling before Bhavan’s eyes. Tiny dark nipples punctuated the slabs of pectoral meat, sitting like crowns upon impressive abs and obliques. All of it in shades of white, dark brown, and burnt orange.

The genie stepped forward, arms spread to the side. “Tell me. Do you like?” His voice was even lower than Bhavan’s. A nearly shirtless and very fine male gaur stood before him.

The guildmaster’s jaw was open. He began scrambling to rise, to inspect the genie’s incredible body, but Ashilor glided forward with impossible quickness. The genie held a light finger each on Bhavan’s horn tips, preventing him from rising. Forcing him to relax. Bhavan nodded in appreciation.

He looked askance up at Ashilor’s face, then reached out to the genie’s groin. Magically, a buttoned slit appeared in the pants. Bhavan took the liberty of tearing it open with his hands, eliciting a deep chuckle from the genie. Bhavan cupped the heavy testicles within, covered in coarse hair. The genie’s scrotum sagged in the tropical warmth. They were dry. Bhavan wondered how they’d feel covered in the stinky sweat of their shared exertion. Like most people, he was doomed to a deep attraction to his own species. It had been too long.

Now, he stood, and made no secret of his growing hardness.

“Well alright,” Ashilor said in a grunting baritone. “In your case, makes sense to do some dicking as part of your wish. It’ll help. Now tweak my form. I want you dying for a hole.”

Bhavan’s mind was blank. Ashilor’s current form was exemplary.

“Gaur got your tongue, huh?”

“You boil my blood as you are, great genie.”

“And I find you sexy as you are, Bhavan. Still, tweak my form. You’ll wanna rut me more if you decide.”

“Very well. Lion. Not as muscled out. A man older and a touch out of shape, like me. A little more so. A man I could dominate.”

“Hot. I like it.” Ashilor’s form shifted from hard perfection to padded humility without becoming obese. The bovine mane, like a jungle, rapidly grew wild and unkempt. Inch by inch, he shrank. Sprouting whiskers tickled Bhavan’s wide nostrils as their faces passed. A moment later, a late middle aged leonine visage looked upward at Bhavan. The genie’s expression was playful, but a little nervous. Ashilor lightly gripped the underside of Bhavan’s forearm with claw-sheathed fingers. A supplicating gesture. Ashilor knew how to sell the scenario.

Despite this, Bhavan asked in a voice gruff with need, “May I?”

The lion’s eyes flashed, betraying his experience and excitement. He purred a deep, male purr that rumbled their chests. Ashilor’s central strip of dense lion fur tickled the gaur’s navel. “Please do, Bhavan.”

The guildmaster pulled Ashilor’s neck to his snout for a deep inhalation of the lion’s scent. Halfway through the breath, Ashilor loosed an explosion of male feline musk. Desire. Sexual readiness. Bhavan let his long tongue moisten the belly next to the tuft of Ashilor’s pubic fur that peeked from his waistline. The genie rumbled another purr while exploring Bhavan’s buttocks and tail base with the pads of his fingers. Bhavan straightened with a surprised snort as a partly unsheathed claw tip ran a sharp line from tail base to halfway down the underside of his ropy gaur tail.

Bhavan crouched with a wide stance, bracing his abs and back as he scooped his arms underneath each of Ashilor’s thighs. The genie looked down at the guildmaster’s long, red penis, bobbing with each of the gaur’s quickened heartbeats, and understood. Bhavan felt the genie’s weight halve as he hoisted the buoyant genie into the air.

“So soon?” Ashilor murmured.

“Guide it,” Bhavan responded. He trusted the genie’s experience to know what he meant.

“I’ll make a hole for you, Bhavan,” Ashilor whispered, and gestured around the seat of his pants.

Bhavan bellowed in sensitivity and need as the lion’s rough paw curled around his bovine member to point it upward. Bhavan slowly lowered the other man onto him. Dry as they were, genie magic prevented any chafing. The lion’s tight anus dilated to around the tapered penis entrance. Soon all six inches were encircled by hot lion flesh.

Bhavan could almost whimper with joyful pleasure. Doing this was a true gift. The experience, the brief partnership, it wasn’t false. Somehow this was more authentic even than being with the men who knew not Bhavan’s position in the city. Ashilor’s kind, cutting insight humbled Bhavan for once. He couldn’t even pretend to be the socially dominant individual in the pairing. No matter the fact that his penis was in Ashilor’s tail hole.

Ashilor’s clawed hand stroked the gray hairs of Bhavan’s chin and guided their noses together. The gaur allowed the lion to explore his mouth with a surprisingly powerful tongue. Soon Bhavan was salivating. He appreciated the small squelching noises of their kissing. Not as much as the feeling of the genie’s warm, leonine balls tucked snuggly against his own tummy. Or the smaller pink penis’ barbs catching on the long, curly coarse hairs of Bhavan’s abdomen.

“You haven’t felt alive in decades,” Ashilor panted. He increased his weight to substantiate Bhavan’s effort in lifting the lion’s bottom up and down. “Your career and personal life have stagnated, haven’t they? I’ve seen it too many times before. You’ve let the role of Artifact Guildmaster embrace you, instead of the other way around. You’ve let your life become numbers and protocols, caution and non-interference.”

“I used to be among the intrepid adventurers that hunted down rumors and secured items for the guild,” Bhavan grunted. “Now I manage the people and rules that manage the managers of those adventurers. Keep purring for me, pussycat.”

Ashilor obliged. His mane enveloped the right side of Bhavan’s head as Ashilor leaned his neck and snout over Bhavan’s shoulder, his body flush to Ashilor’s torso. His tight yet stretchy tail hole held just as fast to Bhavan’s needy member. Drops of pre-cum spilled out to coat the gaur’s hairy scrotum, mingling with the sheen of sweat that was building up. Bhavan’s heart beat powerfully in his chest. He’d never fully lost the strength of his adventuring youth.

“And your personal life,” Ashilor said, still purring. “Has that also been lost to rote and routine?”

Bhavan hoisted the lion off his member and tossed him into the air. He didn’t want this to end so soon. He trusted the genie would come to no harm. Indeed, Ashilor took a calm cross-legged position as he floated above the sand before Bhavan. More drops of pre dripped from his tail hole in front of the dancing tufted lion’s tail. Past the tuft, a translucent orange tether wended through the air to the lamp half-buried in the sand at the base of a palm tree.

“Be something else now, please.”

Smiling, the genie’s furry form rippled. The impressive footpaws merged together as his muscled legs were subsumed into his lion tail. As the new appendage thickened to the length of his torso, Ashilor’s balls also vanished. His penis migrated along with the growing tail. Bhavan knew a snake had been chosen as the barbed penis lengthened and split into two hemipenes. The genie’s torso lengthened to proper serpentine proportions even though he managed to keep that slightly pudgy, middle-aged look.

Even before the proud, feline face had transformed to a fanged, snake snout, Ashilor’s expression grew hesitant.

“No,” Bhavan said. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling that.”

Ashilor’s new king cobra scales rasped along the sand as he slithered past Bhavan. “Are you ssure? I can be quite flexxible like thiss.” His upper body retained its limbs. He glided smoothly past the guildmaster as snakefolk always did. His coils brushed Bhavan’s injured ankle.

The genie hissed. The tines of his tongue tickled Bhavan’s face. The form held some allure, sure, but surely everything would to someone who’s aroused member was throbbing in the empty air. He shook his head.

Ashilor’s scales stretched away and changed to feathers. The great snake tail rapidly withered. The smooth curves of the cobra’s face changed their texture and curved forward and away as they became a great beak.

“No,” Bhavan said again. “I regret being so vague in my request so as to waste your energy, great Ashilor.”

Halfway between a king cobra and a great hornbill, the genie replied, “Neither reptiles nor birds will suit your fancy today, hm? Think nothing of it. I’ve leaps and bounds of energy to spare from my time in the lamp. Besides.” He hid most of his face with a wing hand. “I do so appreciate the challenge of fully pleasing you.”

Bhavan sighed. He felt unworthy of this. No, not unworthy. Disillusioned. Fantastic though it was, he was having sex as a result of having made a hasty, vague wish. That wasn’t what the storied and brilliant Guildmaster would have done. Was he so tired of it all that he’d properly waste this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?

“Giant squirrel?”

“Too clingy.”

“Gharial? Right, no reptiles. A great big bear?”

“Tempting.”

“A dhole? With a licking fixation?”

Bhavan smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Then I’ve just the form for you, Bhavan.”

The genie’s beak softened and a simple black nose appeared. A canine snout. Big ears sprouted from the side of a handsome, furry head. Ashilor reached down to the guildmaster’s member, and warm textured pawpads gripped him. Stripes of deep brown sharpened on the genie’s luminous orange pelt. A fluffy tail wagged with natural enthusiasm over the genie’s digitigrade calves and paws as he kneeled. Ashilor made a lovely striped hyena.

The genie’s expressive ears angled down some as the wag intensified. “This form’s a real people pleaser. I apologize in advance for, hm, ha! The laughing!”

With his hands held up before him but his wrists slack, Ashilor made for a cute sight. Bhavan ruffled the fur between the hyena’s ears. “Good boy.”

The genie wagged harder. He couldn’t be sure, but Bhavan figured that wag was genuine rather than part of the show.

“A little younger. Bigger ears. Plumper rear, shoulders. Plumper everything actually.”

“Chubby chaser are you? Haha!” Ashilor’s form changed with every command.

“What do you think idealized gaur women look like? You think they’re skinny things with shriveled udders? I may like men but there’s still biology instilled in this brain.” Bhavan sniffed. “Make yourself smell like you just got back from a tough hunt in the desert.”

Ashilor laughed some more. Bhavan scented the sharp tang of hyena perspiration under his sensitive nostrils. Unmistakably male. Few people couldn’t tell gender from a sweating beast. Being a gaur, some distant, well-controlled part of him felt a thrill of fear from hyena scent. That was nothing compared to what his groin was feeling. The genie’s snout opened and stayed open. Strands of saliva lengthened between canine fangs, tongue, and lips. Bhavan, guided forward by a gentle touch on his buttock from Ashilor’s fingers, pressed his long member between the teeth and onto Ashilor’s willing tongue.

The genie’s tongue, like lapping at the waters of an oasis, curled to coat Bhavan’s penis. His snout closed so gently as to allow the points of his teeth to barely graze Bhavan’s naked cock. The muscles of the genie’s maned, hunter’s neck flexed and the snout drew away. Then forward again, allowing Bhavan to hilt to the back of the hyena’s throat. Hot saliva, like that of a man expecting a good drink, coated the guildmaster’s penis thoroughly.

Bhavan sighed in pleasure. Ashilor chuckled. It was muffled of course, by a throat full of gaur.

“A personal life of rote and routine, I suppose, is accurate,” Bhavan said as Ashilor continued. “There was a man that got away many years ago. My heart never properly returned to the game of seeking out a life partner even as I went through the motions of dating again. I’ve exhausted the socially appropriate options in my city. It is hopeless.”

Ashilor drew away. A rope of pre-cum dangled from Bhavan’s tip to the genie’s nostril and lip. His tongue darted out to slurp it up. “Hobbies and pastimes? Have you family in the area? Close friends?”

Bhavan frowned. He shook his head. “None, anymore. None.”

“Ha! No laughing matter that you’ve let all these connections wither to become ash, Bhavan!”

The gaur’s frown deepened and his temper rose. Resisting the waves of his anger was pointless, he’d learned. He snorted and stamped a hoof in the sand. His hand shot out to grab the loose fur at the back of the genie’s skull. Neither forcefully nor gently, Bhavan pulled the hyena’s mouth back onto his member. Ashilor didn’t seem to mind after an initial small growl of dismay.

It wasn’t like Bhavan was going to hurt him, the guildmaster consoled himself as guilt lightly touched him. It always followed his anger, these days.

Bhavan allowed his gaze to wander the hyena’s servile form without shame. The cute canine, so passively tended to his desires, and was so perfect in the shape of his body. The gaur groaned his need. The surge of anger had only heightened his sexual desire. His balls swayed forward and back, forward and back. The muscles in his pelvis were beginning to tighten, drawing them closer in. His stocky thighs glistened in the sun from sweat.

“Does my anger excite you, dog?” Bhavan asked. He’d stepped into his role willingly, and knew Ashilor wouldn’t break his.

“It does, guildmaster. Ha! It pleases me greatly to know I’m arousing you.”

“Show me your pleasure.”

The hyena was quick to scramble to his paws. He opened a palm, indicating his full canine sheath and the genie-orange penis at half mast. Bhavan ran his finger over the tip. Ashilor yelped softly at the sensitive touch. The little smirk never left Ashilor’s snout.

“Keep going,” Bhavan murmured breathily. Of course the genie’s sensitive ears would catch it.

Ashilor placed his hands on Bhavan’s chest and shoulders, and guided the gaur onto his back. The canopy of a palm tree blocked the blinding sun from his eyes. Ashilor planted his shins on either side of Bhavan’s hips, ready to lower himself. The gaur bent his knees upward and pulled Ashilor’s pants down to the hyena’s knees. The vest he let stay. It was cute. Bhavan gripped Ashilor at the small rolls of furry flesh at the hyena’s hips.

“I’m ready, hee!” the genie assured him. Bhavan pulled him down onto his member once again. Gods, he was so warm inside. The tail wagging picked up again, and Bhavan felt every sway on his penis through Ashilor’s anal walls.

“Hngh. Tighter,” the guildmaster said. Ashilor’s passage narrowed and gripped tighter. Every time the hyena lifted himself off the guildmaster, Bhavan’s pelvis, groin and all, followed upward before Ashilor’s tight anus released him to fall back to the sand.

Bhavan was close again. His heart thundered in his chest. His whole body was tightening up. Every exhalation was a snort. His big flat teeth clenched together in a sneer.

“Wild sex is a first and, ha ha, really the least important step to feeling alive again, Bhavan.” The hyena’s now fully erect member slapped down onto Bhavan’s tummy each time he came down. Bhavan didn’t know how many times the genie had had sex, but there was no way he was faking this pleasure. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth. His eyes were closed in bliss even as he spoke his wisdom.

“One must lead a vivacious life, to feel alive. This is a taste.” He giggled his hyena giggle. “A lovely taste. And after this taste, with clear minds, we can speak about what deadens this life you’ve built.”

“It comes!” Bhavan bellowed. He could feel a pressure like he hadn’t felt in years building in his loins.

“It comes!” Ashilor cackled. His own penis spurted a rope of cum onto Bhavan’s chest. Once, twice! The gaur gripped tightly and slammed Ashilor’s furry rump down to his hips. Hot liquid shot deeply into the hyena’s insides. Ashilor cackled and Bhavan bellowed again. Always at climax, one’s animal nature could not be suppressed. Bhavan tossed his head and his horns, snorting hard with the might of his great lungs. He could barely feel the scrabbling claws of Ashilor on his hairy chest.

Bhavan pumped spurt after spurt of cum into his genie lover. His back was arched with hooves and fingers jammed into the sand. Ashilor gripped his chest hair to keep his sweaty bottom anchored to Bhavan’s groin. He made yips and giggles through his grinning fangs. The gaur figured it was a canine thing.

Ashilor leaned forward to lick some of his own cum from Bhavan’s bovine chin. “Mm. That tastes vivacious. We’re on the right track.”

Bhavan sighed, his energy spent. He lay spread-eagled. “That was wonderful.”

Ashilor nodded agreement, licking his lips. “Yes. Now to take a form suitable for an important discussion!”

“You might be feline again, great Ashilor. I would find it easy to listen to the words of a wise, majestic tiger.”

“More likely you’re still horny and want round two with another thick man.” The genie giggled like a hyena. “Impressive libido, guildmaster!”

The joke really wasn’t that funny. Still, Bhavan smiled and rolled up to a kneeling position. His hips cracked. Now Ashilor’s back was on the sand with his fine rump impaled by Bhavan’s long penis.

“I should have wished for unending libido to spend with you, hm?”

Ashilor’s face and ears smushed down to become the visage of a tiger, complete with an arresting gaze. The stripes migrated to match a tiger’s pelt. His chest, shoulders, arms, and neck filled out to match the svelte yet strong build so common in big cats. Bhavan watched the genie in front of him change into a completely different man and wondered with gratitude at this twist his life had taken.

“Been there, done that,” Ashilor said. “Phenomenal while it lasts. I like your wish better. We can make lasting changes.”

He planted his wide tiger paws and stood. A gush of wet cum spattered the sand and Bhavan’s sweaty sheath and balls. The tiger extended a hand with a hint of a purr. Bhavan took it and was hauled effortlessly to his feet. The guildmaster found his own hand wandering Ashilor’s godly chest. He pinched a nipple and was rewarded with a hiss followed by a playful smack on his big rump.

“This is my favorite form for this region,” Ashilor said. His voice now sounded serene and controlled. Bhavan noticed he’d taken on more white coloration along with some wrinkles and other signs of age.

“A wise choice. We all have our preferences, but few prefer dislike tigers.”

Ashilor tapped his chin. “You said, ‘I only wish to feel alive again.’ It is now time to pick that sentence apart in earnest. We have clear minds, time in plenty, and solitude but for each other. I will provide drinking water and sustenance.”

Bhavan nodded and folded his legs. His ankle still ached. That would be a small price paid for Ashilor’s intimate company and lasting guidance.

“I will drink in your words as well, great Ashilor.”