FSE

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He wasn't expecting a knock on the door.

The dingy hotel room didn't offer room service, or anything above a roof over your head. The room was big, but it wasn't nice and still stank of cigarettes from when you could legally smoke in rooms decades ago. Either that, or they didn't actually care about the "smoking/non-smoking" recommendation and just stuck you in wherever.

He wasn't expecting a woman, let alone a drop-dead gorgeous bombshell.

Hiring an escort, masseuse or any other kind of companion for the evening hadn't entered his mind. He was here to study: locked in the room, he'd spend quiet - if maybe a bit lonely - days revising. Exams were coming up, and he didn't want to be disturbed by anyone, so checked himself into a shitty hotel he found close to campus. He'd been angry when he'd opened the door.

The anger hadn't stayed. She looked ready for an evening out; the silky sheer red dress that clung to her athletically slim frame, with matching heels screamed to be accompanied by a glass of something bubbly in her long, delicate fingers. Her claw-like fingernails matched the rest of her outfit. Even her eyes seemed to glow like fire as she looked him over. Her long, black hair glistening in the dim light as she gently tilted her head. Not a hair moved out of place as her slender, scarlet lips opened and the corners turned up. A tip of pink tongue sliding between them hungrily.

He wasn't expecting her to jump on him.

It might have been concern, curiosity or a latent lust that made him open the door for her. She pounced on him with a cat's grace; it only took moments before her lips met his. His head instinctively jerked back, but she hit her mark just the same.

He couldn't understand why this was happening. She was a ten and he was a five at best, the glasses pushing into his round face, and her slender arms easily sliding around his stick-thin body a reminder of that. He had nothing worth stealing, no secrets to spill, no wealthy family to ransom or blackmail. She didn't seem injured, or insane.

Even though it shouldn't have been happening, and it was, he supposed he could have stopped it. He didn't. Her body was pressing him deeper into the room, the door somehow closing behind her, guiding him to the bed. His nether regions twitched, blood surging down towards them as his heart raced. The front of his sweatpants pushed out a little as the tip of his cock rose up to meet her.

Pushing him onto the bed, she climbed on top of him, barely giving him a chance to collect his thoughts. Her body was once again pressed against his, her hands sliding underneath the thin fabric of his threadbare T-shirt. Not expecting company, he was just wearing what was most comfortable for studying. He knew he should have felt embarrassed, but it didn't matter to her, so it didn't matter to him.

He wasn't expecting to have sex.

While he wriggled, lifting up little bits of his body, she removed his T-shirt. Shaking, his hands reached up. He was a virgin, and hadn't had much practice in removing a woman's dress before now. Even with that nervousness, he managed to find the thin piece of metal and pull, the sound surprisingly satisfying. She seemed to approve as well: her hands ran along his sides, stroking him. The feeling seemed almost to magnify as it travelled to his core, her caressing of him seemed to almost be a caressing of his engorged shaft.

Quivering hands slipped underneath, the dress coming away from her body. A wave of her perfumed scent crashed over him, his head dizzy from the onslaught. She stopped stroking him so sit across him, staring down on him with a small, confident smile. The top of her dress folded down, soft supple breasts with large nipples spilling out into the air. She gave a small quiver, as though from a brief chill.

They'd fallen on the bed, but she grabbed hold of him again, pulling him to his feet. He felt his eyes linger in between her jiggling cleavage, staring dumbly as she wriggled the dress down her body. Realising she was getting naked, he quickly followed suit, quickly tugging down his sweatpants and boxers until he was completely exposed to her. His eyes travelled down her body, watching as the gently sun-kissed flesh of her mid-section was exposed. A thin line of hair, barely visible, ran down either side of the dimple of her belly-button; thickening as her mound became exposed. The top of her folds lined up with his exposed head, swollen and ready.

One of her scarlet claws reached up, caressing his bristling chin with a smooth lift of her finger. His head tilted back, mind suddenly plunging overboard into a sea of impulses. Her prey falling backwards again onto the bed, the seductress quickly followed, her warm body sliding over his. Lips meeting, he let himself go along with whatever she had in mind.

None of the risks of sex - pregnancy or disease - occurred to him at all as he felt his cock slide into her, her warm mound opening eagerly for his shaft as it slid inside her. He moaned, feeling her fluids wash over him, soaking into him as her hips gently undulated. The only thing he could think of was how magnificent it was to be inside her, his throbbing shaft almost aching in pain when her motions pulled it out.

His body responded. He'd been fully prepared to let her have her way with him, but the pain called for him to take action. Amazed by her impossibly soft skin, his hands grabbed onto her firm, tight buttocks, craning his hips upwards as he felt them raise up. Power flowed from her, into him through his shaft as the head of his cock pressed up against her soft folds. She squeezed down on him, keeping him trapped inside her as the current entered his body. He thought, briefly, of how strange it was, almost as though he was the one being penetrated by this feeling.

As her fluids trickled over him, he started to feel it: the power was entering him, stirring up and displacing his own energies. His body felt slowly feel full, his skin too tight, his shaft to puny to contain all that was flowing into him. Almost out of his control, his hips pushed up faster, losing the shared tempo the two of them had shared. It was too much for him to take in all at once, his body yearning to displace something to keep in the power shooting down his shaft.

For the first time since he'd seen her, she spoke to him. Her lips moved in close, almost kissing his ear. He didn't quite catch her first word, as his brain seemed to refuse to accept it. But he understood her completely when she said, "It's alright. Cum for me."

As though her words commanded it, his grip on her tightened, slamming into her in a forceful frenzy. She didn't blanch or cry, she just breathed heavily against his ear, until his body couldn't take it any more.

Exploding into the strange, sensual woman, he thrust in deeply one final time, his semen pumping out of him as his cock twitched uncontrollably. He hadn't realised how tense his body had become while they had pleasured each other, and it felt like all of that tension was what was gushing out of his cock. The smell of his scent mixing with hers seemed to cause waves of euphoria to crash through him, leaving him panting heavily as though he had actually been swimming.

Her lips whispered further into his head, and he felt his whole body start to grow heavy, an immense weariness dragging him down as she continued to whispered into his ear and right past his brain to whatever else was in him that might have been listening.

* * *

He knew his genitals had grown.

The night was still heavy when he finally woke up. Although he felt incredibly well-rested, his heavily-structured sleeping pattern had been ruined. He'd missed dinner, and his stomach yearned for sustenance. He was definitely alone again: he couldn't sense anyone in the bathroom, no water tinkled out of the shower. Besides, the light wasn't on and the door was open.

He felt the extra weight first, the heft of his warm, sticky member as it rested against his body, the additional tug against the skin that held his balls in place. When he sat up, his cock clinging stubbornly to his body for a moment before peeling off with a wet crackling sound, flopping against his scrotum.

He'd never considered his size before, never measured or compared it to others. His mind was the most important part of him, and that, at least, he had control over, had the power to improve. That wasn't the case with his genitals, but he wasn't a prude and certainly knew what they normally looked and felt like. Now, it looked like someone had stretched them out, a selective artist working on his living flesh with a scaling tool.

Only, it seemed, it was a little more than that. The skin protecting his tip had thickened, pulling farther over the head than he was used to. Possible because the tip itself had changed; his finger reached inside, feeling the thick, flattened tip. His slit opened, a bit of unreleased fluid squeezing out and sticking to him, the thin clear trail following his hand as he moved it up to examine. It didn't linger though, his hand returning to explore his shaft.

Wriggling it around with two fingers as it flopped down, he decided it was definitely thicker. Longer too, even in its flaccid state, his hand pulling it up, testing its weight. His hand reached down, cupping his sack. Each testicle felt twice as big, although that might have been partially illusion, since the skin felt tighter around it, and it had thickened as well.

Rumblings in his stomach becoming too much to ignore, he let his cock fall down again. He got up, finding his clothes back where he'd left them. His mind raced: had the woman been real, or had she merely been a perverted fantasy his stressed mind had created for him? It didn't seem to matter, since she had disappeared as fully as a dream, although his twitching nose suggested that some tone of her scent had remained behind.

Pulling up his boxers, he got fresh confirmation that his genitals had indeed grown. Before, he could fit snugly into his underwear; now his genitals throbbed uncomfortably as they sat too snugly in the confining material. Loosening the front buttons made it a little more bearable, and he didn't plan on going far. Scratching at his incredibly itchy body, he pulled up his sweatpants, sliding into his shirt as he walked over to the curtains.

He peeked outside, looking at the mainly yellowish cast everything had under the street lights. Checking around, he saw a small store open he could grab food from and return. Wriggling his toes, he slipped his shoes on, then went hunting for the keys and the wallet.

It was a short trip, but it felt so strange. He'd never been out this late before, and the sex - with her or just with her in his imagination - had left his mind groggy. His finger mashed the button at the street corner, anxious to cross and get back. Finally, at a break in the traffic, he dashed across, his heart racing surprisingly as he headed into the store.

Since he'd moved into the hotel temporarily, he'd avoided this place: it didn't have any "proper" food to eat. However, it was the only thing nearby that was still open and he was ravenous. Choosing the least disagreeable snacks that he could find, he quickly paid for them and headed back to the hotel room. The shopkeeper looked at him judgementally, and he scratched at the back of his neck as he left the store, feeling eyes following him.

When he'd gone out, nobody was behind the desk, but when he walked back, someone was there. The clerk smiled politely, but he was still struck with something off. Suddenly, the idea that he might have smelled like he'd just had sex occurred to him. His finger jammed repeatedly on the button, anxious to get back to the room, eat, and then shower. The ride up seemed like torture; he breathed out with heavy relief once the door had been shut and he was once again safe in the confines of his hotel room.

A frozen bag of small vegetable pieces was quickly returned to a refrigerated environment. He set the kettle going, while he did that, he filled up a bowl with the contents of a noodle packet he'd bought, along with some pre-cooked chicken he'd managed to find that hadn't expired yet. While the water boiled, he pulled off his pants, groaning with relief. The fast-to-make meal was prepared quickly, and ate almost as fast, while he sat on the bed, glancing over the notes he'd been ignoring earlier. With his hunger kept at bay for the time being, he headed into the shower.

He hadn't expected to see her there.

Although he wasn't certain, he was close to sure that she hadn't been there when he first walked in. Unless she'd had a master key, he couldn't think of how she might have gotten in. Phantasms, however, didn't need clothes to traipse around, so the small scarlet trail of discarded clothing leading towards the shower suggested that she was real, or at least that he was completely losing his mind.

She smiled at him, one eyebrow coaxing him to join her, her arms raised in the air and body gently swaying as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, bracing herself against the top of the shower curtain. He felt a smile crawl up his face, a stupid expression that showed the exact instant that his cock started doing the thinking for him.

Quickly tearing off his remaining clothes, he slipped in beside her in the shower, eager to get started. It took a little bit longer, a little bit more blood flowing to the area, for his cock to rise to full mast, but it felt like nothing: when she was around, time seemed to be broken. This time, he didn't want to just react to her moves. He grabbed her hips, pulling her close, his long shaft sliding up, throbbing as it got caught between the two lovers.

His back arched as she reached behind him, a blast of chilly water hitting him on the back. He thought it was lucky he felt he was burning up, since it might have killed the mood. Surprisingly, though, the hotel had a good hot water system: the shock of cold lasted only a few seconds, before the balm of warmth returned.

While the small bathroom started to fill with steam, they kissed. He curled his toes on the anti-grip sheet that had been added to the floor of the tub. His hands, water trailing along their length, slid over her naked body as he gently started to thrust against her. Although he hadn't penetrated her yet, he definitely wanted to make it clear that he was ready when she was, for whatever it was she had planned for them.

He pulled her under the water with him, feeling the shower's warm blast flow between their bodies. Her breasts pressed up against his body, hot water flowing around them. It almost seemed to perfectly angle them to trickle down, landing on his thick, flattened head as it rubbed up along her mound. The extra length she'd managed to coax out of him throbbed all the way up to her belly-button, the water starting to get a little uncomfortable.

Almost as though she could sense his discomfort, her hand slipped down, guiding his dick inside her once again. He moaned, a potent feeling washing over him. He grabbed tightly on to her, not enough to hurt her - he could barely consider that - or out of possessive need, but purely out of the desire to make sure they both enjoyed what was to come.

Feeling his foreskin pulling away, he moaned, using a vague idea of where the clitoris was on a woman to try to stimulate it with his shaft, holding firmly on to her ass as he thrust inside. Once again, he felt his cock feed off of her power, pulses of power flowing up while excited pre-cum passed by and leaked from his tip. He slid around, pushing in deeper, face contorting as he tried to stay in control. But his lust was building like a bucking bronco, and he felt the reins starting to slip through his wet fingers.

Her lips seemed to suck his thoughts away as they kissed. His back slammed up against the tiled wall of the showers, her fingernails clawing at his skin. He found it a bit strange, that she'd suddenly got rougher, but he kind of liked it. It felt almost relaxing. The vague idea of his cock growing even more came to his mind, though that seemed too fast, too impossible. Rationalising it away as her pussy squeezing on his shaft, he hoped it meant she was enjoying herself, dutifully continuing to thrust away in the slow rhythm.

His pace slowly built up, need crawling through his skin as she continued to claw at him. His back tingled from the scratches running across it, none of them tearing the skin enough to draw blood or cause pain, but for some reason his mind thought of how clean those areas must have been now. Thoughts started to drift towards his impending orgasm, intensity building up in him that would need a release soon. His bigger balls pulsed, water dripping over them, curling his pubic hair into a fish hook shape that dangled, anticipating a bite that wasn't going to come.

Moaning, his mind filled with sensations of the moment. Wet flesh smashing into one another. Energy throbbing in his body, the cock its firm core and lightning-like tendrils ensnaring more of him. Fluids pulsing eagerly in his body, waiting for the crescendo that was building inside. The feel of her body slipping against his. She felt - smelled - tasted - so alive.

Breath flowed out of his body into hers, quickly followed by his juices, as anxious to mingle with hers as his cock had been to absorb them. She let him enjoy his private moment, fingernails swirling over his nipples as their lips broke and he gasped for air. His grip on her loosened, all the excitement in his energy erupting out of his penis, and into the mysterious strange woman that seemed to appear to tantalise him the most.

Still breathing heavily, and with his cock still pumping away, he started to sink against the wall, body spent. Her hand slipped easily, following the shallow curves of his muscles until she could stroke his chin once again. She grabbed his head, pulling it down so she could whisper in his ear again. Once again, the words seemed to bypass his brain, worming his way into some secret thing inside him that was waiting for them.

That secret thing liked what it heard, because he suddenly felt a second surge of adrenalin washing over him, as though he had come again. Only instead of leaving him exhausted and content, his mind felt revitalised, and hungry for the next hit of bliss. His body had other ideas, knees wobbling with weakness. Slipping out of her, he braced himself against the tiles to keep from toppling over. Now he was struggling to stay awake, her words ringing under his consciousness. He reached out at the faucet, to turn off the water, but instead exhaustion consumed him.

* * *

He had changed more.

Waking up in the tub was uncomfortable. She had, at least, been considerate enough to turn off the shower. His head pounded; he felt he'd been unconscious for hours, but he wouldn't be able to tell until he got out of the tub.

His head was in the perfect position to survey the damage. The most obvious change was the hair. It covered most of his body, even growing in places where he hadn't expected it. His legs were completely consumed, as were his arms, though whatever energy had caused it to grow had run out just before getting to his hands. Similarly, it covered his neck, and had completely replaced his own hair, but his face felt smooth.

A thick coating of brown hair over him wasn't the only changes that had occurred as he slept. His legs had changed quite dramatically, thick round hooves capped his feet, the lengthy things that spilled over the edges of the tub. Instead of his expected flat feet, shins, thighs and buttocks, he had some kind of beastly hindquarters. Adding to those changes was the tail, which he only realised he had because it was trying to move but was still trapped underneath him. Straggly black hairs were just about hidden, but as he slid from side to side, he could see the coarse ends of the strands that dangled from the end of his recently-acquired appendage.

Gyrating his hips made plain that, once again, changes had touched his genitals. They were definitely more pronounced, far beyond looking human: even his body still had the right musculature, even though it looked a lot more pronounced and firm under the coating. Before it roused, his shaft had slumbered in a distinctly animal sheath. When it spilled out, like a dark fist sliding out of a thick, fleshy sleeve, he watched it crawl towards him, round and dripping, ready to be used. Grotesquely large orbs settled underneath, dangling over his anus - itself feeling swollen and altered - twitching it his tight, oddly smooth scrotum.

A twitching beside his face stole his attention away from his erection. Despite the strong desire to reach down, stroke it and see what he could do with it, instead his hands inspected his ears. They stuck prominently out of his head, far too big, hairy and strangely-shaped to even pass as human.

Above the sink, the mirror stood tantalisingly out of view. Standing proved difficult: his arms braced against the sides, but hooves and tubs weren't designed to work with each other. Eventually, he managed to turn over, surprisingly strong arms able to push him onto his hands and hooves. Raising one leg over, he was able to sit - sliding his tail out of the way to avoid further pain - and look at his upper half in the mirror.

Animal ears, round and furry, definitely adorned his head. A thick shock of black hair, like a Mohawk, ran down his neck. Words whirled through his head, but for some reason he couldn't quite pin down the one that named the animals he looked most like, although he could certainly see them with his mind's eye.

His stomach rumbled again, coaxing him to continue to move. He resorted to crawling, the floor tiles too slippery for him to stand on, and he felt it too risky to try. The carpet's rough fibres grated against his arms, but they were protected by his extra hair. Through his persistence, he managed to escape, crawling up onto the bed and examining himself in the larger mirror.

Once again, his cock announced its presence, determined to grab his attention as he sat straddling the corner of the bed. His hand stroked down the length of his maleness, head tilting back as he wanted to scream in ecstasy. Both hands grabbed hold - he needed both to get a satisfying grip on the shaft - squeezing it, feeling the surges of strength that accompanied indulging himself. The bulbous, drooling head reached up to where his nipples would have shown up, had the hair on his body not been so thick.

His stomach complained again, so loudly he couldn't ignore it for the siren song of his cock. With the sun streaming through the window, he would probably have a larger selection of stores. However, that would mean leaving the room, and he certainly wasn't in any state to go out looking like this.

Although it seemed impossible, he put his creative side to good use. Pants covered up most of the issues: he didn't bother with underwear, and the sweatpants stretched rather alarmingly that - in order to pretend to modesty - he stuffed additional T-shirts around his massive bulge. This provided the additional benefit of allowing his cock, which stubbornly refused to return to his thick, black sheath, a way to avoid some of the constriction of the elastic waistband.

This, however, caused a new problem: his hooves and what had been his feet now stuck out the ends of the pants' legs rather noticeably. He frowned: there wasn't much he could really do about that, aside from hope nobody paid his "ankles" too much attention. Stuffing his shoes with pairs of socks, and tying the laces around his "ankles" would, he hope, look fine.

Pulling on the heaviest top he had brought concealed up his hairy chest easily, although it still looked all wrong: the outline of his shaft was noticeable, the top snug, his pants ballooning out comically. Checking in the mirror, he frowned: his ears were another dead giveaway. Rummaging through his bag of clothes, he found stashed in a corner reserved for laundry a beanie. Wincing in pain, he folded his ears over, quickly pulling the cap down to conceal them.

Now that he was covered up, he took some time to practice walking in his strange get-up. It failed dismally: he continually tripped over his shoes stuffed with his "feet", constantly having to tie them to his "ankles" to keep them from falling off. His cock took to leaking, his front staying a sticky mess until he commandeered a toilet roll and added to the padding by wadding up the top of his cock using the entire roll.

With no way of leaving the hotel room, and his stomach becoming increasingly loud, he turned to his connections to the outside world. While the hotel did not offer wi-fi, he had his phone, and soon he was browsing for take-out places that delivered. The food on offer turned his stomach - he wondered if that had changed as well - but eventually decided on a dish that didn't make him want to become violently ill: multiple copies of a salad side dish, preparing himself to pick around the cheese.

Having food on the way, he waited patiently, remaining in the ridiculous clothes he'd put on to hide his transformation. Every now and then, his nose would catch a scent, always infuriatingly when his cock was starting to settle down. It was as if she was here, in some kind of alternate plane, walking through the room, her scent the only thing able to penetrate the barrier between worlds.

The wait was agonising, and he felt nervous: he'd never ordered food to a hotel before, and he hoped there wouldn't be a problem that would require him to go downstairs. Thankfully he could pay by card, since he'd used up all of his cash.

By the time he heard the knock on the door, his heart was pounding in his chest, his eyes wide, cock having throbbed for almost the whole hour he'd spent waiting for the delivery. He felt parched, wondering if he should have ordered a drink, but decided he could fill up the sink - or, in a pinch, the tub - with cold water and drink from there. The clothes were confining, his hair prickling and his body stinking of sexual need and animals trapped in hot places.

Answering the door, he spent the least amount of time possible interacting with the obviously-confused delivery man. Slamming the door behind him, he immediately stripped off, sighing with relief as he tore off the layers. Clothes were soaked with pre-cum, or were torn in haste, and most stank with a desperate need of a wash, but those, he felt, were problems for another time.

Opening the boxes of food in turn, he chose not to be picky, using his hands to cram the salads into his mouth as fast as he could chew them and ignored the bits that made him feel uncomfortable. The first box's contents disappeared in less than a minute; after that, although he was still ravenous, he continued to ate, although more slowly. Walking awkwardly on his hooves, he grabbed clothes and towels to allow his hooves extra traction on the bathroom floor, and drank deeply from the sink.

Now that his immediate needs had been catered to, he returned to the bedroom. He pulled the heavier curtains closed, now paranoid that someone would see him. Finally, he felt he could relax, sinking onto the bed, staring up at the nicotine-stained ceiling tiles.

He felt his shaft engorge anew, and this time there was nothing to hold him back. Worries gnawed at the side of his mind. How was he going to get to his exams? How would he, could he, check out? What would everyone say? Would he keep changing?

Would she come back for him?

That's what filled his mind as he lay there, wriggling his legs apart as his balls churned, hungering for him to release. Closing his eyes, he almost felt her brush up against him. Despite his anxiety, he suddenly felt like smiling, then laughing as he realised how foolish it was. How the hell could he have sex with her again, looking like this? Surely, he thought, the big cock he stroked idly would break her if he tried to slide it inside her.

A splash of scarlet, the dash of a scent startled him. She emerged from around the corner where the bathroom ate into the room, her red dress dangling from her finger before she flicked it onto the bed beside him. He moaned, crotch thrusting upwards, surprising himself that he didn't feel embarrassed at being caught. A stream of pre-cum splashed out dribbling on his chest; she smiled as she walked over, one long slender leg sliding over his hairy, hoofed one.

While she settled across his lap, her hands slid across his. Following his motion as she stroked, she slid up his shaft, raising the large head up to her red lips. Her kiss tingled down his shaft, he breathed out heavily as her bare crotch started to grind. Had his cock been sturdier or stiffer, he got the impression she would have ridden it like a pole. His hands started to shake badly, closing his eyes as he struggled to keep stroking himself like he wanted to, while the pulsing power she had instilled in him seemed to struggle for control.

Thoughts filled his head as she continued to taste him. Her lips traced a pattern as she traced across the surface, wordlessly speaking through him once again. This time, however, things started to make a little more sense. Things he'd assumed about his life as a given started to fall apart. Who had his family been? Shouldn't he have had some? Why hadn't he wanted to know about that before now? He had friends at college, certainly, but none from his youth came to mind. Why was that?

Relinquishing control of his cock, and any orgasm he had, to her, he allowed his fingers to grip tightly onto the bed beneath him. Why had he chosen this hotel room, and not just studied in a library? He felt his life falling apart, yet felt surprisingly fine with that. Especially with her continuing to caress his magnificent cock.

"You are starting to see the truth, I see."

The words rattled around in his head. Had she spoken them? He didn't believe so, yet they were in his mind. It was almost as if they had been some of the words that she had whispered earlier, hiding in his brain until this very moment, when it was unleashed as the lines of power flowing out of her finally had grown enough to reach into his mind.

His breathing became laboured, his huge balls raising and lowering onto the bed as a big pool of semen began to form inside him. His hands ran over his muscular chest, examining his arms in admiration. There was something primitively satisfying by the changes she had enticed out of him. For as long as he could remember, which started to feel less and less significant the more his mind mulled on it, he had never felt this relaxed, this aroused, than right now.

Grunting, his nostrils stretched wide, body yearning for as much oxygen as he could get as ejaculate fired into the air, arcing over her as she moved away, allowing his thick, yellowish cum to splatter over his body, as well as on the bed. The bed didn't matter. None of it mattered. It felt so fake, so unreal. The only thing real about this place was her, and him.

He closed his eyes, the wave of pleasure breaking over him, body responding as nature intended.

* * *

This time when he woke up, she had stayed.

He'd changed further as he slept. It was apparent almost immediately, but he sat up to look at himself in the mirror. Standing was much easier now: somehow he felt far sturdier on his donkey legs than he had before. Yesterday, and all of the days previously, had the shimmering, dream-like quantity to them.

She had awakened him; the real him.

Looking into the mirror, he flexed; his muscles had grown in thick and powerful, the bulges prominent despite his thick hide. Turning his fully equine head from side to side, he admired himself. He lacked the dignified breeding of a horse, but as far as donkeys went, he considered himself on the good side of handsome.

Curling his lips back, flashing his large, yellowed teeth, he felt her scent smash across his face. Almost immediately, his donkey shaft punched out into the air. Grabbing it, he slid the base of his growing election along the back of the chair. He tossed his head back, braying loudly as his thrusting sped up.

Behind him, she woke up, breasts heaving up a moment before her body, still as perfect and seemingly untouched as ever, lifted off of the bed. He started to remember more: she was his protector, his goddess, and when he was lucky, his lover. His lips curled afresh. He wanted to turn around, to bow to her, but he felt all pent up, as though the last few times she had made him cum had been the same kind of dreams that had trapped him here on the mortal plane.

Her body arched sensually, fingers running through her hair as she looked at him in the mirror. She smiled, clearly pleased that the real him had returned. "You remember everything now," she stated, not so much a question but more an observation.

Through gritted teeth, he answered her, "Yes, goddess."

"Then let's go home," she crooned, sliding onto her feet. "I forgot how much of a stud you are, and I'm sure there are many females at home awaiting your return."

With regret - he was enjoying himself immensely - he made one final slide along the chair as he backed off. His equine nostrils snorted: if he wasn't hers to do with as she pleased, he would have protested. But betraying her seemed impossible. As she beckoned him, he backed up, sitting back onto the bed, letting her slide her arms over him, her slender legs squeezing on to our hips.

"Take me home," she commanded.

His tail flicked once, then the two of them vanished from the mortal plane to that of myth and legend.