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Dean had turned around when he heard Will cry out. He looked back at Chad, still standing in the intersection. Chad was looking in his direction, as if he sensed he was being watched, or if he was waiting for something. He gave Dean a playful wink and a thumbs-up. Right after that, large, rough hands grabbed the back of Dean's shirt, pulling him into the shadows. Dean turned, trying to see what was going on; when he looked back, Chad had disappeared.

"Hey! Hey!" Dean yelled out angrily, repeating until he got the manhandler's attention. "What the fuck's going on here?" As much as Dean was up for anything, every had their limit to how much bullshit they could put up with. So far, his bachelor party had been a dud, and was definitely not in the mood to be accosted in the dark. He looked over his shoulder, trying to follow the dark outline of the figure who'd grabbed him. They might as well have been invisible for how little light there was in this patch of the corridor.

"You're Dean, right? The one getting hitched?" Dean wasn't too surprised the voice was male: he was tall, broad, and well-built, so whoever had managed to yank him off his feet had to be pretty strong. The voice came from about a foot above Dean's head; with that strength and size, Dean reckoned the guy must have been one fucking monster of a man.

Dean stared up warily. He noticed a light patch in the dark, now that his pupils had dilated. There were two, that appeared to be looking down at him. He thought back to the bouncer who had let them into the club. It could have been the same guy: it was definitely the same trick going on with the eyes. "Yeah, that's me." With annoyance replacing his surprise, he repeated, "What the fuck is going on?"

Feeling his shirt slacken and fall back against his skin, Dean felt a big hand fall on his shoulder. "Chad asked that you get something special on your last day as a free man. A surprise. Thought you'd get a kick out of it."

"Oh," Dean realised, breathing out in a low, harsh tone. It was weird conversing with a shadow, but he wasn't the type of guy to let a little darkness bother him. "Look, whatever Chad wants you to do, don't bother because I'm not interested. When he suggested your place, I thought okay, maybe it'd be a cool escape-room bonding experience. So far it's just been wandering aimlessly around corridors. Now I'm standing here, talking to a stranger instead of spending time with my friends getting wasted. Is there any real fun stuff planned, and if so, can we just skip to it?"

The guy chuckled. Dean thought he saw a glint, the type you might get off of someone's teeth; the only thing that made him think otherwise was that the teeth - and the mouth that contained them - were both too large. "That's what I'm here for: to take you to the 'fun stuff'." The hand left Dean's shoulder, and grabbed him by the hand, squeezing a handshake out of it. "I'm Theo, by the way." Theo's skin felt rough and coarse; Dean wondered if he'd been wearing gloves, but when he squeezed back he felt callouses, sweat and a heart beat. His fingertips grazed up against a thick patch of hair around Theo's wrist.

"Okay, Theo, can we turn the lights on or something?"

"Can't." Theo explained. "It's not far, and I know this place like the back of my hand." Theo's hand squeezed around Dean's, tighter this time. "Just keep a hold and you won't get lost. The floor's flat, but I'll warn you of anything else."

"Oh, uh, alright." Dean gripped back, as Theo led them down a short corridor. Had there been enough light, Theo would have seen Dean's mouth in an almost inverted smile. He was picturing Chad standing there, winking. "Must have fixed that stupid drawing straws crap," he thought. He imagined he had run off to go to join the real party, probably standing there with the other guys, holding up some big sign. "Chad's fucking lucky the wedding's tomorrow, or I'd kick his ass." Dean was strong, quick to anger and did not take crap easily; but even he wasn't brave enough to face down the fury of a woman who'd had her dream wedding ruined by a best man with a black eye.

"So, how long have you known Chad?" Theo asked.

"A while," Dean shrugged. "Met at college. The usual kind of thing. Still go to the gym together every day." He paused. "So, is it just drinks and shit, or should I be expecting any more stupid garbage?"

Theo laughed again. "Our usual stag party thing: something that makes fun of a bunch of wedding traditions. Everyone generally has a good time, and afterwards it really turns into a party."

"No offence, but it sounds dumb."

"Don't knock it until you tried it," Theo suggested. "I thought it was kind of dumb too at first, when I did it for my stag do. But it's a very memorable experience."

Dean disagreed with Theo's conclusion, but wasn't keen on pressing the issue with the guy who was his seeing-eye dog for the moment. "So did you work here before that, or...?"

"No, that's when I found out about this place. Watch out, there's some steps here. The place kind of grew on me, so now I manage the day-to-day stuff on here, and let the boss do what he does best."

"And what's that?" Dean didn't really care, but the chat made things bearable. He stepped down the stairs slowly, feeling his way along. Theo's feet made a strange clomping noise, like the racehorses made at the track when they were walking across concrete. It echoed around; Dean realised Theo must have been waiting in the dark for quite a while to have missed this before. "Probably work boots to keep from stubbing your toe."

"Coming up with ideas for entertaining our guests. Mostly we get RPG nerds down here to do some LARPing. Some people, like you, think it's an escape room type of thing. When it's cold we invite the homeless guys in here, keeps them warm and gives them something to do..."

Dean stopped listening: instead, he was looking into something like an amphitheatre. Torches burned from sconces, and two braziers burned, flanking an open pillory in the middle. They cast strange shadows around the room. It helped to make the robed figures standing around look even more large and ominous. The room had the musky scent of a room that was poorly ventilated and held men or beasts for long periods of time. Theo was wearing one of these robes as well, which covered most of him; but he and the others seemed to have some masks or something jutting out from the cowls, Dean guessed that this was what had shined before.

"Yeah, this is a bit much." Dean declared. "I'm not up for this stupid cultish shit."

Theo pulled Dean down a couple of the stairs, shifting behind him and started to push him down onto the sand-covered arena. He laughed. "Relax, man! All of this, it's just for show. Like I said before, don't knock it before you try it. Besides, how are you going to remember your stag do if you don't do something stupid and crazy with your mates?"

Dean looked around as Theo pushed him towards the pillory. The guys in the robes looked way too big to be most of his friends; other than Chad, none of them were as into working out as he was, and all the robed figures looked massive. He looked back at Theo. With the light, it was easier to tell what the protruding bit was - it looked like the face of a cow - although Dean wondered how good it looked under normal light. Right now, it looked pretty realistic; kind of surprising for such a dinky little place. He turned back to avoid tripping as the stairs stopped, his shoes making a crunching sound as his feet sunk into the sand. "I'd rather just get drunk, if you guys don't mind!"

Although he addressed all of the figures standing around, nobody answered. Instead, he was poked and prodded by Theo until he was in front of the pillory. "You want to do this the easy way, or the hard way?" Watching the bovine muzzle open and close as Theo talked was unnerving; if it was an effect, it was probably wasted in a place like this. The only thing that stopped Dean from freaking out was that this line was delivered in such a light, jovial way, like a normal guy making a joke at the office or the construction site.

Still, Dean didn't like this set-up at all. He looked around the figures, trying to guess which one was Chad. Right now, thought, he was getting annoyed at all of his mates for going along with this garbage. Aside from a couple, it really didn't seem like anything they'd do without a few beers in them, and then at least a couple of them would be getting rowdy. Where was the laughing? He looked back at Theo, towering over him; even if the cow's head - bull's head, he supposed - was animatronic, the guy would still be strong enough to push him around in what was probably a heavy costume. He wondered if Theo would force him in regardless, and if he could get away. "What does the 'hard way' entail?" He quickly clarified. "Not that I'm choosing that option. Just curious."

Theo's bovine face grinned, big white teeth shining through as he threw back his helmet. With the rest of Theo's head on display - sharp-tipped horns, floppy long ears, large eyes that glowed with a dazzling yellow - Dean couldn't dismiss it as animatronic. The movements were too fluid, the way the muscles in the face moved was too natural, the way he instinctively snorted when a stray strand from the cowl fell on the nose was something that nobody would have noticed if it was just a mask. The cloak fell away from Theo's broad shoulders as he lifted his arms up; the strange texture of his hands seemed to make sense as some bastardized form that could be used but still suited his beastly nature. Sculptured muscles covered in a thin layer of white hair, glowed under the flickering firelight: with less of a bovine presence, it was a body Dean had been working towards.

Dean stepped back, looking down, watching the thick pink sack wobble as Theo stepped forwards, eyes heading down the firm, misshapen legs as the ended in wide hooves - too wide for a bull, but wide enough for a bull who wanted to walk upright, perhaps. Dean didn't even realise he was fainting before Theo reached out to grab onto him, stopping him as easily as catching a baby gently lobbed into the air.

As his brain refused to believe that this was happening, Dean froze. Imagination was not one of his strong suits, so when presented with the impossible, his body locked up. "Kinda hoped you'd struggle more," Theo said as he turned Dean around, one hand shifting the limp arms and head into place, the other holding the bar of the pillory before lowering it down and locking it in place.

The sound of the heavy click seemed to reboot Dean's brain. He looked around, starting to struggle, worrying that it was too late. The boards of the pillory didn't seem to have much give in them, but - he thought - that's probably because whatever fucked up thing they had planned for him hadn't been done with guys of his strength before. Just to be safe, he clenched his ass tight, and tried to squeeze his legs together.

While the other cloaked figures disrobed, showing off a variety of muscular, half-bovine male bodies - some already aroused, others just starting to sport anticipatory erections bulging from their sheaths - Theo laughed and patted Dean on the back. "Dude, you should just chill. Nothing's going to happen to you that you're not going to want."

"Let me go!" Dean rattled the pillory, the beams wobbling. There was no give yet, but Dean hadn't lost hope. The bull-men were moving around, staring at him and laughing at him. That just seemed to make him angrier: the pillory was shaking so much, it looked like it would break and send it flying into one of the braziers on either end.

A black bull-man chuckled. "Seems a bit uptight, Theo!"

"It's his bachelor party," Theo explained. "He's got all those wedding jitters... maybe even cold feet, who knows?" His big hands flew up into the air as he shrugged, and the bull-men started laughing again.

"Wedding jitters, eh?" A browny-red bull-man standing just off to the side in front of Dean grinned, opening his hand. In the opened palm was a golden nose ring, glimmering like fire in the light. "Why don't we show him what it's like? I've got the ring!"

More laughter. Dean struggled, his hackles raised as he looked around. He was surrounded by the bull-men; they all looked aroused, but other than a few itches, they didn't seem to care too much. They mostly seemed to be laughing at his expense. He seethed, wanting to yell at them, but fearing reprisal. He tried to calm down, to think, but the laughter kept coming and it kept his blood boiling.

They continued laughing as Theo suggested, "Put it on him, if you're brave enough!" The browny-red one did just that stomping over to stand in front of Dean, squatting down until the thick pink spike stabbing out of his crotch nearly touched his nose. Dean sniffed smelling the heat coming off it. The hands moved in, grabbing his nose and pushing the cartilage up. The golden ring, slightly opened, was shoved into his face; he felt the cold metal bite against the septum, but that was all. It didn't penetrate his flesh, like Dean was fearing, but it was closed tight enough to stay on there when the bull-man moved away.

Dean wriggled his nose as they continued to laugh around him, trying to dislodge the ring. "You guys sound like a pack of hyenas rather than cows!" he yelled out, finally unable to contain his anger.

"Bulls, boyo!" More laughter. "Didn't you ever learn? Cows are female, bulls are male!"

"Maybe he's never seen another male naked before?"

Theo's voice intruded, the only one Dean could give a name. "From what his friend Chad-"

"Ex-friend!" Dean insisted, squirming. It felt like the pillory was giving slightly, if only he could struggle a bit more.

"...right, well apparently they go and work out together, get all hot and sweaty, then go back to the showers and..."

This was the last straw for Dean. He screamed, bellowing from the deepest part of his guts. In that brief moment, he felt blinding anger for everything and everyone: Chad for spilling the beans, Theo for doing the same, his other "friends" who had probably been in on this thing. His fiancée, even, for pushing him into getting married and so into this position at all. He squirmed, the skin on his wrists close to tearing as the pillory groaned as he thrashed about. He was still bellowing when he felt the cold metal click through, piercing his septum.

The sound had silenced the laughter, and after the initial outburst seemed to be dying out. It came back with a vengeance, and with a wet snort from his newly-pierced nose. It throbbed, and felt something trickle down over his lips, but a quick swish of the tongue let Dean know it wasn't blood. Instead, it seemed to be mucus or something similar. Whatever it was, it felt like it was leaving his nostrils completely cleaned out. A small sniff rolled around in his pulsing nose.

"What dith you do tho me?" Dean demanded, his hands grabbing at the minotaur who had pierced him. He had moved well out of the way, leaving Dean even angrier. Sweat dripped down his back; as he panted and snorted, he felt it trickle down his face, into the fabric stretched under his armpit, and down the ridge of his back.

Theo's answer came from behind him. "This is all on you, bro. If you'd just chilled out... well, it's too late for that, and you'll have time to learn to loosen up a bit."

Dean's lower face bulged, the bones creaking and groaning in his jaws as tremors passed through the muscles. Pops and snaps echoed through his skull as his face stretched, contorted and changed, matching the shifting and growing muscles underneath. His nostrils and lips bulged and thickened, like he was suffering from a bad allergy. If it wasn't for the bridge of his nose pushing out, edging more into his range of vision, he might have thought that. There was surprisingly little pain; the worst thing was the nagging itch. Sticking his tongue out, he licked around his lips, feeling the thick bristles that were there. Dean usually shaved, and had done so before coming out. This hair was new. He couldn't shake the idea that it tasted different, too.

"No! It's the ring!" Dean insisted. "It's..."

He felt a thick hoof press on his ass. "Aw, come on! Don't be stupid!" Theo said, digging his hoof into the flesh of Dean's buttocks. "The ring's just a little joke. You're the one who got bull-headed about it!" The laughter started up again.

The itching spread out, from the end of Dean's growing bovine muzzle it headed towards his neck, and up the bridge of his nose to spread over his forehead. The skull underneath cracked open, careful not to break too much, but just enough for new, hard bone to knit together in the gaps. His nose broadened, pushing his eyes apart at a pace the rest of his changes could keep up with. Inside he swirled with anger; it burned so hot, so bright, that his head seemed to throb more from it than from the changes that were happening.

As Dean's changes spread, the pillory started to feel tight around his growing neck. Between the thick pelt growing down and around, and the thickening flesh to keep his head connected, the space between the neck and the beams was quickly disappearing. An invisible force grabbed his ears, pulling them out, the folds disappearing in the light brown hair. Above them, two heavy lumps formed, the skin slicing open as sharp nubs of his horns erupted out. They grew quickly as he continued to shake at the pillory: not just from anger now, but from panic. It might have been his imagination - might have - but he was finding it harder to breathe.

"Hey Theo," the black bull-man warned, "you might want to let him out. His head looks like it's about to pop!"

Dean was still struggling, when suddenly the tension suddenly released. He almost flew forwards, until a couple of the bull-men grabbed him by the new horns and yanked him back. Out of the corner of his eyes, through which everything seemed to be washed in a red haze, Theo sprawled on the sand, laughing his ass off.

Looking to either side, Dean saw the black and a black-and-white bull-man holding the horns that sprouted out of his head faster than bamboo; they also held his hands, his muscles clenched and glistening with sweat, veins bulging. The itch had spread across his chest, the speckled red and white hairs spreading down from his head, covering his big muscles which warmed and swelled as it spread. His clothes felt tight, too tight if he was being honest: he liked showing off his toned body, but that didn't leave a lot of room for him to grow. Why would he?

His chest wasn't the only thing growing: Dean could see the front of his pants tenting up. He'd been so caught up in trying to get away, that he'd not even realised he'd gotten hard. He looked over at Theo, dusting himself off. Something about the way he moved reminded him of Chad washing up after a hot and sweaty gym session where they pushed their bodies hard. It always left him feeling tired. Not too tired, but tired enough that his usual barriers came down.

"See?" Theo grinned, grabbing onto the bulge. "I can see you're starting to get it! Who knows, you may even think this is the best thing that happened to you!" That seemed to be some kind of a signal, because the bull-men let go of him.

Dean didn't have time to worry about that. His shirt needed to come off: the fabric was going to rip - he could feel it giving way - but it wasn't going to do that fast enough to keep it from squeezing him in a not-nice way. The red in his vision was going down; now he was more confused than angry. He reached down to unbutton it, his arms pausing mid-way down his shirt. He'd always wanted to show off by tearing off his clothes, revealing his sculpted body in an explosion of fabric. It seemed like the perfect time: the shirt was going to tear anyway, and the bull-men didn't seem to mind guys in the buff.

Tucking his fingers in the gaps between the buttons, Dean let out a triumphant roar and jerked his elbows out to the size. Buttons popped off his increasingly fuzzy chest, some flying into the brazier, sizzling away in a puff of rank smoke. The fabric strained against his thick, full arms, and against the top of his sweat-covered, fur-growing back. The air was surprisingly warm, soaking into his exposed body, his smooth bulging muscles popping out as he continued to roar. Finally, his hands clenched hard, and the shirt itself ripped in half, the pieces flying into his tightly-clenched fists. Standing and panting, he noticed the red had gone out of his vision.

The bull-men cheered, and crowded around him. Now when they laughed, they didn't seem to be laughing at him as an other, but with him licence

Dean found himself grinning, as some came over and patted him on the back. He panted, the bull fur trickling down his body, his blood surging and roaring through him. A couple of the bull-men, Dean never found out which, yanked off the remains of his shirt as the crowd surrounded him. He scratched at the fur line, letting his fingers run over the thick, bristly muscles. Having a lot of body hair was a novel experience: he had always shaved himself, thinking it would show off the muscles better. While it might have, from what he could see as he grew, it wasn't all that bad.

Without a shirt, Dean's torso became a magnet for the rough-skinned bull-men hands. He got a lot of compliments: not necessarily sexual, mostly admiring his form. Considering their own bodies were highly-toned even though they were quite tall, Dean appreciated it more. "If they know the effort it took for themselves," his mind argued, "they're obviously going to know what I've put in."

Although the fur hadn't reached down that far, Dean grabbed onto his pants. His ego and his cock seemed to be interchangeable, and with all the admiration his trousers felt very tight. Dean grabbed the buckle, trying to take it off; instead, he accidentally pulled the buckle clean off, the belt sagging like a dead snake as his trousers stretched out as the growth in his upper body raced ahead of the speckled line of fur. He ground his teeth together, getting a shock by how large and flat they felt.

"Need some help, bro?" someone offered. Dean didn't have time to reply; he was suddenly grunting as the back of his trousers strained. Letting the belt go, he reached back, grabbing the seat of his pants. Strength flowed down his arms. It was easier to pull open his pants. Out of the hole, and through the top of his boxers, sprung a long tail, capped with a huge fluffy tassel. Dean didn't have time to admire his new appendage properly, the skin still stretching out as he shoved his ass backwards: he was too busy ripping the pants in half, the stitching disintegrating. Heavy balls sagged down the legs of each of his boxers, pulling them down as his hard, throbbing, pink shaft jutted out from the opening in the front.

Continuing to pull his pants, Dean saw the other bull-men move away. He raised the shredded trousers high into the air, spinning them around his head. The bull-men pumped their arms at him, grunting and chanting. It seemed to pump him up too: if his heart had changed, he hoped it had gotten more durable, because it was pounding at a mile a minute. Throwing his pants off, he grabbed and completely obliterated his boxers in one firm tug.

Dean turned, feeling a thick palm smack against his buttocks, the light dusting of bull hair continuing to grow as it stretched down his legs. It was Theo. "Nice show, mate." He winked. "How about we relax a bit, just guys helping each other out?"

Putting on his biggest smile, his bovine face starting to feel more normal, Dean grinned and nodded as they thronged together, getting settled down. Theo was on his left; the black-and-white bull was to his right. The ring continued around the braziers, sand wedging itself in their buttocks - or at least Dean assumed, since could feel it - as more bull-men poured into the room. There was a large variety of "breeds", but the one thing all the bull-men had in common was that they were all in good shape.

Feeling the strange hand on his cock come in from the left, Dean glanced around at the circle, putting his own right hand, grabbing the bull-man cock standing stiff and proud, the flesh pink and warm and slick. Beads of fluid trickled down the tip, the particular scent muted amongst the many musks mingling in the hot air. Dean thought back to all those times after his work-out when he and Chad, completely pumped up and unable to simmer down with doing something else. Jerking off in the showers together became jerking each other off in the showers. This was similar: less water, more sand, and a lot more guys. Those thoughts were fading, as his body continued to change and Dean became more relaxed in it. There was something about those big, rough hands on his straining, enlarging manhood, so needy for attention, that his past dulled as the present demanded more of his ability to cope.

The voices of the bull-men, joking and chatting, flittered past his wide ears. The pleasing, casual strokes on his cock distracted him from the painful tightness in his feet, and the unnatural shifting of the muscles in his legs. Dean rested his other hand on the bull-man's thigh, feeling the muscles shift and tense underneath, although for very different reasons. His eyes rested on the splotches of black and white, the muscles raising and lowering as he breathed in, as the bull-man enjoyed himself.

Dean felt his shoes stretch and deform, and the relieving snap as they burst apart. Thick - and still expanding - hooves had replaced his toes on the end of the feet. Ignoring the small nubs of what remained as his legs broadened: bipedal buttocks and thick thighs blending smoothly into the four-legged hind-legs growing to support them. Even though it was happening to him, Dean couldn't bring himself to care. He closed his eyes, letting the heat ride around in the chain, surging along his shaft, through his body, and into the bull-man next to him.

Hearing a grunt, Dean peeked. He didn't really need to: the twitching of the leg under his hand, and the hot goo that slipped between the other as he brought it up and down along the rigid pink bull cock he was stroking, told him everything he needed to know. He felt it surge along the shaft, hearing the clench of breath escaping from the bull-man's body.

The feeling was addicting: from the sounds flicking off his ears and bouncing into his head, the bull-man next to Dean wasn't the only one ejaculating. The scent of cum, thick and hot, began to fill the air. It filtered into his mind, calling to him. It was just like at the gym: energy flowing from man to man, touching them in a way a woman could try, but wouldn't really understand.

Dean felt the tension grow, let it grow, feeding it with lustful images. He fantasized about doing this - and more - his body aching to partake. He could taste the salty thickness on his tongue, the feeling of relief as the cock slipped out of his hole. The tension blossomed, washing over him. He felt it fill him, overfill him, as the taught scrotum squeezed against his balls, pushing his sperm into his awaiting cock.

It surged along, the rush sucking Dean's breath from his lungs. His semen sped inch after inch, exploding in a satisfying ejaculation. He could almost feel it as it flew through the air, the next squirt already rushing along the tube inside his long manhood, chasing the other as his balls emptied themselves. He didn't notice his facial muscles had contorted as he got closer, until they were relaxing as the effects of the orgasm filled his brain with a pleasing, soft feeling of satisfaction.

Dean opened his eyes, turning from side to side. Bull-men grinned at him as they did the same for each other. They panted, leaning back, their cocks and chest dripping. "What now?" Dean asked Theo, eventually once the most overwhelming parts of the orgasm had washed away.

"Now?" Theo shrugged. "We get cleaned up." Theo curled his legs, semen splatting into the sand as he rolled, extending his legs and arms at the right time. From this position, Dean thought, he looked almost like an actual bull. Theo offered him his hand, and he was pulled up, his own juices pressed into his coarse flesh. "After that, there's a lot we can do. Pester the other creatures, run through the dungeon to get familiar with the layout. Maybe we can show you our routine: it's a bit old-fashioned, but as you can see it gets results!" Theo took the opportunity to flex, showing himself off.

"Sounds great! Count me in!" Dean grinned back, greeting Theo's golden eyes with his own.