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Arran's feet stopped for a moment, his eyes scanning the horizon as he tried to untwist the knots that had formed in his back muscles. His fingers fumbled at his side, as if to check that the strangely-light pouch was still there. Turning, he looked backwards towards the mountains; the faint haze of smoke was still visible, scarring the face of the morning sky as it drifted lazily, dispersing into the air. He knew very well the mountains weren't the volcanic type.

Shuddering, Arran imagined just how much fire there needed to have been at the mine camp to have caused that much smoke. "Left just in time," he decided, fingers finding their way back to the pouch. It would probably work out well for him, he thought as he turned back to the road: a fire that large would mean plenty of people would be chalked up to being missing. He had a blank slate; a potentially wealthy one, assuming these crystals he managed to smuggle out were worth anything.

Mentally he started spending the fortune he hoped await him. The front of his pants began to tighten as his manhood squirmed inside. Near the top of that list would be a whole lot of whoring: of all of the sites he'd worked, that one had been the worst, since there wasn't a whorehouse for miles. "At least the pay was good," he grunted, trying to loosen up some space in the very uncomfortable pants that belonged to his uniform. "Maybe I should get some new clothes first?" He'd have to ditch them soon, he thought; if anyone thought he was associated with the mess he'd lucked out of, he'd be facing the end of a noose. Besides, they had never fit well, and seemed to be managing poorly with the cross-country trek.

Squinting his eyes, he glanced farther along the road. He'd already avoided one inn - the one just at the base of the mountain, where most of the free men at the camp would go to get a drink and relax for a while - and was trying to weigh up in his mind whether the next one would be a safe one to hide in. It seemed promising: it was at the intersection of the road and a main one, and while it looked quite busy it might be a place to stop. Far more appealing was the fact there was a merchant there; judging by the carts outside, a rather wealthy one.

"That's either good or bad news," Arran thought: it would mean he could unload some of the crystals now, and get started on his new life. On the other hand, it almost certainly meant the man would be able to haggle. He grunted again, stopping again to bend over, grabbing his knees as the fabric seemed to tighten further around his legs. The hours he'd spent walking had caught up with him.

The inn continued to grow like the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel, welcoming Arran as he approached. "Get a room. Sleep for a day. If there's enough money, buy a horse." Continuing to speculate about the value of the green crystals in his possession, he clutched again at the pouch.

A sudden surge of welcoming power coursed through him, pushing him onwards. His feet slid around in the sweat-slicked insides of his boots; they ached and throbbed, and he couldn't wait to put his feet up.

Up ahead, Arran heard the sounds of life coming from the inn. Horses and donkeys whinnied and brayed as they were roused from rest, assembled into teams by a pair of strong servants. Guard laughed with each other, fingers resting at the weapons at their sides. "Cursed luck!" Arran swore, hobbling as fast as his exhausted body permitted before the merchant's party left.

"Where's your master?" The question burst out of Arran's mouth like an untamed mustang, sweat pouring off of his body as he scratched at his uniform.

"None of your business, wretch!" the guard cursed, fingers heading towards his weapon.

Desperately, Arran reached for the pouch, the eerie green light spilling out of it as he pulled out the crystals. "I've got something he'll be interested in seeing."

"Where did you get this?" the other guard interrogated. He tried to grab Arran's arm, but the sweaty, tired former slave overseer's instincts kicked in, and he yanked them back.

Thinking quickly, Arran bended the truth. "I'm one of the foremen for the mining company stationed up in those mountains." He pointed back towards where the smoke was. "Well, used to be stationed: there was a slave uprising last night. The company's looking to rebuild, so we're trying to get together some more money to buy more slaves and repair the damage they've done. It was a rough night, but since I saw there was a merchant here, I wanted to try my luck."

The guards' eyes met, thoughts passing between them. "Just wait here," one finally stated, heading back towards the inn. The other continue to glare at Arran, distaste evident on his face.

After a few moments of awkward silence later, a fat, perfumed man minced down the steps, walking to join Arran and the guard watching him. Arran was pleased: being allowed to stand still for a moment seemed to make him recover his energy quite quickly. The crystal's light throbbed as he gripped them in his hands, oozing out between his fatigue-swollen fingers.

"I've been told you've got some interesting specimens," the merchant purred, fingers caressing his moustache as it flowed into his trimmed beard.

Arran repeated, with some embellishments, the story he'd used on the guards, as the merchant studied the crystals. Refusing to let the crystals out of his hand, Arran seemed to insult the merchant, but, as he said, "It's not for me, it's for the company I represent. If I lose them, it's my head on the chopping block."

"They're certainly interesting," the merchant suggested, "as a trifle."

"Glowing crystals are not a trifle!" Arran exclaimed angrily.

"And you are no foreman," the merchant retorted, returning the anger with cool judgement. "It's obvious that something's gone wrong. Perhaps they're stolen. I'm not going to risk taking on proscribed goods."

Arran's body throbbed in annoyance, his veins bulging under his skin as his heart thrummed strongly in his chest. "If you're not interested," he stated, closing his fist, "then I'll wait for a less stupid merchant to come along." Words popped into his head, and they immediately went to his lips. "If you're willing to throw away the opportunity of being the sole vendor of these rare crystals, then you're clearly not the type of merchant the company will want to be doing business with anyway. There's far more in the mines, so the high price you could get for these rare crystals now should help you in the short term, plus get you in good standing when they become a more common commodity."

The merchant purred again. Arran noticed the glint of greed in the merchant's eyes had grown. "Possibly, if I could see a contract, or otherwise have some assurances..."

Twinging with reluctance, Arran selected one of the bigger crystals and pressed it into the merchant's hand. "Maybe a free sample would persuade you?" Banking on the fact that, for some people, greed could be made to overwhelm common sense, Arran waited for the response. "As a show of good faith." He grinned, despite the fact his head was throbbing: it was almost as like the lies he'd told were trying to rewrite the memories in his head.

"Well, now that I see it up close," the merchant decided, the green light of the stone filling his eyes, "I do have to agree that there are some arrangements that could be made for our mutual benefit." Gesturing to one of his servants, he smiled broadly, examining his gift as a heavy chest of gold was brought forth.

Arran's words came out more confident, despite feeling ready to pass out - or burst, whichever came first. "I shall be staying at this inn for the next while, trying to get in touch with enough people to help out with the mining. The new master of the mines is a real dragon, and is very upset that the mining hasn't been delayed."

"I do have some contacts in the slave trade," the merchant answered, almost absent-mindedly counting out gold. "I don't usually deal in that myself - far too unpleasant - but I think I can be flexible enough to earn your needs."

"Excellent." Arran coughed, his voice becoming deeper. His slick hands ran through his thick, bristly hair; the huge brush seemed to have thickened as he'd walked away from the mines. "No," he thought, shaking his head: he'd always been hairy, hadn't he?

With a small, but sizeable, fortune placed before him in gold, the merchant replied, "Of course, we won't know the exact value of these new crystals until we get them to market, but..."

Arran nodded, quickly judging the value of the pile as suitable; at least for the mean-time, until more supplies could be brought, and work in the mines begun again. He was feeling far more confident, but his exhaustion and the tightness of his clothing was getting to him. He needed rest, and some privacy.

"Of course," he agreed, his large hands scooping up the gold as he handed over most of the crystals to the merchant. "Naturally, you'll allow me to keep one for myself; I may need it for demonstrative purposes. One of the smaller ones should suffice."

"By all means," the merchant replied, carefully packing the majority of the crystals away. "I think this is the start of a very profitable business arrangement for the both of us."

"I certainly hope so," Arran answered quickly, standing up. "Naturally, I shall like to stay, but I understand you will be very busy and need to travel. I am also feeling a little tired, so hopefully we can meet again."

"Of course," the merchant nodded. Arran bolted away, staggering through the merchant's carts and servants before stumbling up the stairs of the inn.

Barging past a couple of the departing merchant's servants, Arran slammed up against the bar, right in front of the innkeeper. "I need a room," he began, his head throbbing before he amended. "No, actually I'd like to purchase your inn."

"I'm not interested in selling it," the innkeeper answered, "thank you all the same."

Dumping the money he'd recently acquired in front of the astonished innkeeper, Arran explained: the fire had destroyed most of the buildings at the mines, and the remaining company employees needed lodgings for them to work. "You can keep running it as an inn for all I care, and keep a share of the profits. Fuck pretend you still own it for all I care. My master and I just need a way to make money, and somewhere to house workers temporarily." Grunting as he clutched the edge of the bar, he added, "And confidentiality."

The innkeeper studied the money. "Well, let me think it over. At the very least, I can offer you room and board, most of the rooms will be vacant..."

Moaning, Arran grunted, "Thank you, but maybe later. I think I'd like to be outside for a moment." His head throbbed, and his shaking hands grabbed at his last remaining crystal. "Look after this for a while too, keep it in your safe."

Stumbling past the confused man through the back of the inn that he started to believe he'd purchased, Arran broke out through the rear door. He fell, crawling across the ground on his arms and knees. The uniform stretched over him like a second skin, groaned; he could feel the leather and fabrics start to rip in various places.

Being outside relaxed him: his nostrils flares as his chest stretched and groaned. The ache in his head seemed to spread through the rest of his body, but now it didn't mind. Digging his fingers into the earth, he tilted up his head, the morning sun burning into him.

Opening his mouth wide, a bestial moan coursed through the air. Scents washed over him as he felt his nose stretch and expand, his throbbing head growing and distorting. Particular scents set his groin aflame, his manhood distorting the stretched clothing into a thick tube, seconds before his pants burst open, giving way as his erection tore through them.

A long, fleshy, growing shaft flopped out into the air; Arran didn't notice that it looked nothing like his normal penis as he lowered his body to slide his erection along the ground. Two large, dark orbs flopped out of the newly-formed hole as he continued to run a ground with his large, bestial shaft. His massive testes jostled, groaning with seed corrupted in the same way as the rest of his body had been.

Now that his pants had split open, it didn't take long for the rest of his clothes to split apart, revealing the sweaty, hairy distorted human body twisting, growing and changing underneath. Freed, thick animal hair seemed to pour out of his thick, not-quite-human skin, covering him in a dark black, coarse pelt. The muscles in his legs bulged, pushing him taller as firm, fleshy lumps protruded freely out of the top of his hips. A shudder rumbled through his body, a black, spiky tail bristling out of the widened rump thrusting up against the ground.

The toes of Arran's boots gave way, heavy equine hooves pushing out. Small, and still shrinking, human toes hung from the bottom of his feet. The shredded fabric of his uniform continued to fall off of him; although his legs were undergoing the most extreme parts of his transformation, his torso was swelling with thick, humanoid muzzle under the new pelt that was growing.

Arran's mind had not been left untouched. Taking advantage of the fact his primal instincts had taken over, the changes nibbling at the edges of his consciousness blossomed. As his body's potent needs forced him into thrusting a trough in the dirt below him, the image of his master filled his mind. The huge, impatient dragon, he remembered falsely, bellowed in anger: the rest of the crystals needed to be released. He had travelled here to set up an outpost to find slaves to go down into the mines and retrieve it. With his immediate orders completed, his body's needs had been released by his master's hold on his mind: the muddy, flared tip of his shaft drooled eagerly.

Reaching forward with his now massive arms, he dug his fingers into the dirt: his elongated face opened, a horse-like whinny bolting out as he tried to get traction in the ground with his rear hooves. He whinnied again, as two extra limbs swelled out of the end of the lumps formed into hard equine forelegs, flesh splitting with a groan as two hooves emerged covered in almost embryonic fluids. Slowly drooping down to the ground as new bones and muscles began to knit into the right shape, his tailed rump rose into the air, cock dripping between his hind legs.

Two tall ears flick up against the sides of his face, black hairs covering them. His large equine nostrils released hot, moist air into a cloud in front of him. He turned his horse head to either side, large dark eyes glancing at the powerful arms bulging with muscles that spread out as his torso expanded.

With his new legs growing in length and strength, he slowly felt his lower half beginning to rise off the ground, sturdily supported on four large hooves. Flicking his tail, he pulled himself along, adding extra support with his arms, until he was under a sturdy tree. Reaching up, he grabbed one of the thicker lower branches; the tree groaned its displeasure, but he didn't care. His spine was extending, his hind legs moving further back, as the powerful torso of a large horse began to fill out from his old hips.

Whinnying again, he pulled his equine shape apart, flicking the air with his tail. A thick sheath attached itself around the base of his throbbing, dripping horse cock, connecting it to the expanding mass of horseflesh growing between his two pairs of legs. The branch he gripped on to snapped off the tree, his body landing hard against his hooves. Grunting angrily, he threw the massive branch, raising it over his head, sending it spinning through the air until it crashed into the ground. Roaring, he felt a thrill pass through him. "So strong!" he thought, flicking the wood splinters from his hand before moving them down the bulging abdominal muscles swollen down his thick human torso.

Looking over himself, he felt his mind recall events from a life, the vague images firming in his mind. His younger years as an orphaned slave, his body growing in strength as he aged as the dragon put him to work carting stone from the mines as he sought his precious treasures: the green crystals. Blossoming into a hulking horse-man adolescent, he had been granted more and more freedoms as the dragon had imprinted his possession over his mind. There was nowhere for him to run away to any more, and what else would he do. As he grew older, he became more responsible, looking out for opportunities to make himself more useful. This had slowly earned him more gifts from his master: a small income of his own, and the use of the slaves to help sate his rampant sexual desires.

He shuddered, his huge cock slapping up against his chest. He'd been so busy managing the bigger excavations, he seemed to remember, that he hadn't had time to find a suitable slave to bed with: perhaps if he had, the rebellion wouldn't needed to have happened. Suddenly, he was back to being a young colt, indulging himself in the old-fashioned way. It was a bit odd, he thought, that his body seemed to be elongating out. It was almost as though he had shrunk from the stress. Humans were lucky; their arms were able to reach down and satisfy themselves quite handily.

For a brief moment he felt queasy, as though his organs were resettling in his body. His cock throbbed with renewed vigour as he felt his strong horse heart beat firmly in his chest, echoing the human one in his upper body. Blood surged through his body, his huge lungs filling with oxygen, his magnificent black-haired chest swelling. The scent of grass wafted over him, his stomachs reminding him how long it had been since he'd eaten. Splattering his chest excitably, he suddenly kicked off with his four legs, dashing across the fields.

All the exhaustion and discomfort he had been feeling melted away as he let himself become an untamed beast for a few moments. Galloping along the plains, massive mottled cock swinging below him; now that he had made up for what he believed had been his failures to uphold his duty, it was almost as though a great weight had been lifted off his back. With the wind flowing through his mane, he whinnied in triumph.

Bubbling out of his excited sack, and travelling along the long, hot length of his horse cock, his semen sprayed out, the thick creamy fluid staining his black fur a dripping white. More sprayed out into the air as the head of his shaft swung about with abandon. His body shuddered pleasurably, his spine tingling the full, long length from the base of his neck, down his humanoid followed by his equine torso. Twitching his tail, he gasped, smelling his own hot seed continuing to spill out of him.

Closing his eyes, he let himself get carried away, his mind freed from all cares. Stretching out his arms, he hugged the air, his cock throbbing as he continued ejaculating. Breathing in heavily, he slowly brought his hands in, caressing his large muscles, admiring his body; or at least that which he could reach.

Looking back at the mountainside, he let the euphoria pass, heading back towards the inn he had bought. The scent of other horses was there - something that always brought mixed feelings in his mind - but where horses were, there was usually somewhere comfortable to rest. While he felt invigorated, the lack of sleep would get to him, and now that he had two men working for his interests - and the interests of his master - he could let them take the rains in his stead while he took a well-earned rest.