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Soft lips nibbled at Darrin's cheek, pulling him up from the depths of sleep. His groggy brain produced a waking dream of being kissed by Bennett, the butler for the estate where he worked. He smiled at the thought. In his dream, he chuckled and pushed; he didn't notice how hairy the mouth was, or how it was a very unusual shape for a butler.

The bulky muzzle nudged his shoulder, harder this time. His brain registered 'animal', and he thought that his dog Roanoke was trying to wake him up. He groaned at the idea and turned over. His neck was bent at an uncomfortable angle, his feet pushed against the far end of the couch, his arm slid off the edge and thumped the floor.

Darrin opened his eyes at last. He was in his living room, sprawled out as well as he could manage on a couch not designed for sleeping. He must have passed out watching TV again, a practice that was becoming a Friday night ritual. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. He peeled it from his palate with a soft grunt, then shifted to sit up, rubbing the stiffness from his neck and shoulder. The ache in his spine would surely work itself out on the morning walk with the dog.

The muzzle bumped the back of his head, lingering urgently. There was a surprising amount of force behind it, forcing Darrin to bend forward. His temper flared briefly, but he tamped it as soon as he noticed it. The sun was shining through the windows already; it was probably mid-morning. The poor dog was probably hungry, or his bladder was fit to burst. Likely, it was both.

"All right, boy." He glanced over his shoulder without seeing anything. "I'm up, I'm up. Sorry about that; I'll get you some food, and then we'll go out for walkies, OK?"

"F...food." A strange voice rumbled behind him. It was followed by a nicker of excitement.

Adrenaline flooded through Darrin; just like that, he was awake. He leapt from the couch and spun around, ignoring the bump of his leg on the coffee table.

Instead of his German Shepherd, he was looking at a horse...sort of. The creature had the head and muscled build of a thoroughbred stallion, but it was standing like a man. It rose from where it had been leaning on the couch, revealing bodybuilder-broad shoulders and a torso that looked like a Renaissance sculpture. The sheath and sac were wholly equine, nearly too big to fit between his trunk-like thighs. Below his knees, bulging calves flexed to allow for an extended hock ending in a hoof the size of a dinner plate. As he stood up straight, his ears brushed and then flattened against the ceiling. He had to be eight feet tall, at the very least.

The stallion was covered in short, thick white fur dappled with grey; markings that were familiar to Darrin though it should have been impossible. The way the horse...man moved, swaying on those massive hooves, brought one name to mind.

"Apollo?" Darrin heard himself speak it, a sense of surreality making his head spin. Surely, he still had to be dreaming.

The huge horse-creature flicked an ear, brushing a bit of paint from the ceiling. "Darr...in?" The long muzzle bobbed in an approximation of a nod.

Darrin shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around what was right in front of him. "How...? What...what are you doing in here? What in the hell is going on?"

He tore his eyes away from the stallion in his living room, looking to see if there was something that might provide a clue to why one of his horses was suddenly a giant biped talking to him. There was nothing but empty beer cans and the remnants of the leftover chicken he had for dinner last night.

"I don't know, Darrin. I...ate, and...slept, and...woke up...like this." Apollo rolled each word as if he were savoring it. It was so weird watching that equine muzzle work to form syllables it shouldn't be able to.

"And you came into the house right after you woke up?" Darrin struggled to think of something that could have done this. The last thing he did was feed the horses, shut the barn, and walk across the large lot back to the modest house he boarded in as part of the payment for taking care of the Braverman's animals. He watched an old movie, ate half a chicken and washed it down with three beers, and then drifted off.

There was nothing that could account for this. He didn't remember any odd noises or something out of place in the barn, though there...was that new feed that had just appeared in the barn. He had assumed Bennett made the call to switch brands and just expected him to roll with it. He remembered giving Apollo only half his usual amount of feed, knowing how sensitive the hot-blooded horse was to changes in his diet. The other two stallions, Achilles and Atlas, had been given much more.

Was it the feed? If so, that meant...

"Oh God, the horses!" He raced outside, hearing the surprised nicker of Apollo behind him. Hooves thumped heavily on the kitchen tile, and Darrin thought he might have heard the floor shatter under their impact. He would have to worry about that later; now, he had to tend to his stallions.

He dashed through the open door and stopped, staring at the open barn that was visible across his yard. Apollo stopped short right behind him, the bulk of the animal making him stumble forward a step or two. He felt the thoroughbred's chest brush against the back of his head, and had to put aside the thoughts of what it would be like to hug him. The horse's pelt would be so soft, but the strength in his arms would be immense...

Roanoke ran out of the open stable doors, grinning like he got away with something. He trotted right up to Darrin with a friendly wag, nosing his master's hand and leaving behind flecks of oats and processed pellets.

"Oh no, boy, what did you do?" He got down on one knee and brushed the sides of the Shepherd's snout, clearing the rest of the feed out of his fur. "Don't you know that stuff is dangerous? We don't know what it's going to do to you."

"Darrin...?" Apollo snorted behind him, shifting on his hooves. "I...feel funny. What's happening to me?"

Roanoke's ears twitched, and he barked at the giant horse. Darrin fought the panic rising in his chest and stood, turning around to see what else was being thrown at him.

Apollo stared at him with flared nostrils, his chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy breaths. He shook his mane with a whicker that Darrin knew was one of concern. Thick, hoof-tipped hangs clenched and unclenched. Even standing relatively still, it looked like he was moving.

"It's going to be OK, buddy." Darrin stepped forward, one hand outstretched behind him to signal Roanoke to stay. "We'll figure out what's going on, but first I need you to relax, OK? Take deep breaths. Slower. Easy...easy..."

Darrin found himself staring at Apollo's massive chest, pectorals seeming to flex with every breath. They never relaxed completely when the horse exhaled; instead, they rose higher, grew broader, thicker. The horse shook his mane again, his neck lengthening, then engorging with new muscle. "I...I can't breathe. Head feels light. Tingly."

Apollo whinnied, tossing his head back suddenly. His hooves churned up the grass and dirt in the front yard as they expanded visibly, increased weight pushing them deeper into the ground. The legs shivering above them flexed, then swelled. Sinew packed itself onto his frame, pelt stretched to the point that it could be seen through that short coat. Apollo's sac swelled and bounced, dropping lower, bulging to the size of large grapefruits, then small pumpkins. The sheath flexed and stretched as the cock inside grew larger, the flattened tip of his equine member pushing out into the open air. It rose into Darrin's vision as the horse grew taller, voice dropping as he did.

Darrin's heart pounded inside his chest. He stepped back and tilted his head back to watch the stallion's torso looming above him, rising higher in slow motion. The long muzzle swayed above as it approached the height of the house's roof two stories above the ground, nostrils flared and lips curled back. It was anyone's guess what Apollo might be feeling, but Darrin had to suspect it couldn't be good. Nothing was meant to grow this fast. Was this impossible growth spurt hurting him? Scaring him? Disorienting him?

"Whoa....whoa...." Darrin said, trying to calm himself as well as the horse. This couldn't be real. His brain was rebelling against the sight in front of him, trying to rationalize it. Maybe he was having an incredibly vivid dream, his aching body punishing him for sleeping on a cramped couch with a stomach full of dodgy chicken. That had to be it. "It's going to be OK, Apollo. Just be cool."

Apollo responded by growing bigger. His hooves were each wider than Darrin's hips at this point, and he shifted his stance as his thighs demanded more room. When they landed, the ground shuddered. Almost immediately the horse churned up more grass, deepening the imprint he had just made. His chest - which was level with the roof and still climbing - heaved as it broadened, growing barreled but lithe in proportion to the colossal equine. That great head leaned over it to peer down at him, tilting towards one side, then another.

"So...intense." His monstrously deep voice boomed; Darrin could feel it through his slippers. Apollo must have been 30 feet tall, and he was still getting bigger. "It feels...good."

The horse whinnied again, shifting his hooves once more. The impact made Darrin stumble this time; Roanoke whined behind him. He stepped back towards the dirt path connecting his house with the stables, watching Apollo's hand rise up and grope his chest. A long, hairy tail banged the house as it flagged behind the giant. The stallion was dangerously near filling the yard completely and growing into the building.

"Apollo...I need you to listen." Darrin's throat went dry, and he couldn't keep himself calm no matter how hard he tried. He could smell the horse's scent; he could feel waves of heat rolling away from him. The wind blew, cooling the sweat on the back of his neck. His brain reminded him that this was the most vivid dream he had ever had. Don't fight the trip, he thought to himself. Just roll with it. "You need to walk this way, just a few steps, OK? Otherwise you might break something."

The tail thumped against the house again, a sharp crack marking the impact. A window must have been cracked, or maybe the panels on the roof or wall was damaged. Apollo looked down at the dwindling human; for perhaps the first time, Darrin had no idea what he was thinking. His expression was strangely calm, but it still looked unnerving from that height.

"OK," he said at last, and lifted one hoof. That powerful leg swung forward, and Darrin could swear he heard the muscle creaking as it flexed and stretched. It whistled past him and crashed on the other side of the dirt path with a thunderous boom. Darrin ducked instinctively, and the tremor knocked him to his hands and knees. He recovered just in time to see clumps of dirt landing away from the new crater the horse had just made.

Apollo lifted his other leg, moving from the front of the house towards the wide meadow that stretched along the side of both buildings. He was growing to take up more and more space, towering fifty feet in the air now. If anyone was in the manor at the top of the hill, surely they must have noticed the commotion. How in the world could he explain one of the horses becoming a half-human giant? What could he do to deal with this situation?

Darrin was jolted out of his panic when Apollo sunk to his knees. The impact was severe, the ground rolling under his hands and knees; he was flicked a foot in the air and landed on his rump. The path was practically demolished under the growing bulk of the equine, but he barely seemed to notice. His long, graceful neck curved to see the little man lost under his shadow. Apollo leaned forward, planting one immense hand behind Darrin. The other crushed a small flower bed near the corner of the house.

Underneath Apollo, Darrin froze in place. The sky was replaced by a ceiling of horse torso, partially obscured by a cock that loomed like a fallen tree ten feet in the air. It listed towards the ground under its own weight, rising to smack the horse's stomach and chest when it flexed. The heat and musk was incredible, stinging Darrin's eyes, burning his nostrils. He rose to his knees dazedly, tearing his gaze away from the mottled erection above him and looking forward to stare at the horse's thighs. They grew, creaking audibly with muscle, but even they were hidden by the dark spheres of Apollo's testicles. Each of them were larger than Darrin's torso now, but they stretched taut then surged larger, briefly obscuring the stallion's legs before relaxing just a bit.

Darrin was overwhelmed, his mind going blank. The impossible sight of a giant horse this close, the smell of him blanketing all sides, the sound of muscle stretching over thick hide - it was too much to absorb. All he could do was stare, mouth open, as his stallion expanded around him.

A boom of a laugh startled him, and he turned in its direction. Roanoke was nowhere to be found now, probably hiding somewhere safe; it was just Darrin and Apollo, the horse curled in over his own chest to see the human under him. "Hi, Darrin. You're so little now."

Crunched and curled as he was, Apollo's size was hard to determine. Darrin just knew that he was still growing bigger, forearms and thighs swelling thicker all around him, torso rising higher and broader over him. He couldn't escape if he wanted to. He was completely at the stallion's mercy.

Apollo's nostrils flared, and the horse snorted 'quietly'. "Don't worry, Darrin. I won't hurt you. It's going to be OK, buddy." The smile seemed a bit more natural now, relaxed; thick lips peeled back to reveal huge blunt teeth the size of tombstones.

Darrin was too busy staring at the horse's muzzle to notice the hand sweeping towards him. He jumped with a yelp when he felt the rough leather of Apollo's palm bump his arm, but it was far too late to run. His body was surrounded by thick flesh and lifted from the ground, digits wider than his arm shifting him until his back was propped against that hand. A shockingly broad thumb brushed at him clumsily, running from his collarbone to his knees - with an uncomfortably long pause between his legs.

"Ah," Apollo chuckled, "I thought so." As if Darrin's insane arousal at this moment explained something. Before the man could react, the horse gathered him against his shaft, clothes and all.

Darrin's mind reeled as Apollo's pulse thumped against his entire body. His hands lifted instinctively to brace against the column of flesh, and he was rattled by the horse's nicker in response. Apollo closed his fingers around him, trapping him against the burning, spongy expanse of his erection. The thoroughbred's voice shook him to his core, the air seeming to vibrate with the intensity of it. Darrin gasped at the feeling of being pressed against a cock longer than he was tall; the skin had some give, just enough to be dimpled, but it was so firm. The more he squirmed, the more sure he was that he wasn't going anywhere unless Apollo allowed it.

It wasn't a realization he was comfortable with, but it was something he was strangely excited by. His cock throbbed inside of his pants, pressing uncomfortably against his zipper through his underwear. His heart pounded in his chest as blood roared in his ears. This shouldn't be happening - this couldn't be happening, but his senses were so vivid. Apollo's familiar scent was amplified to the point he felt it seeping into his pores; the heat of the horse's arousal scorched his skin wherever it touched the incredible phallus he was pressed into.

Apollo's massive fingers flexed, squeezing the air from his chest as he began to glide along the towering member. Darrin could feel the horse expanding all around him even now, though it seemed to be slowing at long last. His mind went back to the mysterious feed. Why hadn't Achilles and Atlas been affected by it yet? What was so different about the thoroughbred? His head bumped against the swelling ridge of the horse's flare. Apollo whinnied and squeezed tighter; veins and underchannel all but made him disappear between cock and hand, and he had to stop thinking about anything else. The reality of what was happening slowly settled in to his bones along with the horse's musk.

Darrin squirmed. He pushed and pressed his cheek against Apollo's shaft. He tried to flatten himself against the stallion's palm. Everything he did just excited the giant further. The scent and heat was so thick in the enclosed space he grew dizzy, and the steady movement back and forth along the immense cock made it impossible for him to get his bearings. He kept kicking and pushing the solid wall of flesh above him, taking deep breaths whenever Apollo's grip eased, trying to duck out of the line of fire when he was curled over the tip of that great erection and brought face-to-urethra with an opening more than wide enough to take his arm.

Between booming snorts and whinnies, Darrin heard himself groaning. When he wasn't squirming and bracing, he discovered he was grinding his hips against the tree-sized erection. His clothes were drenched with sweat and pre as Apollo leaked. He could taste the horse now, the giant's presence settling into every inch of him. Over the course of those timeless moments, Darrin acclimated to the intensity of it. He grew used to the sting in his eyes and nostrils.

Apollo dragged him from the root to the tip with surprising restraint, using his pointer finger to curl the tiny man around the ridged, flat dome of his member. Small floods of pre coated his head entirely before he was dragged away from a more severe drenching. Darrin's breath caught several times as the horse's pace quickened steadily, his clothes growing more bedraggled.

The stallion snorted, then neighed, then whinnied as his arousal deepened. Darrin could feel the excitement as a rhythmic drum-beat all around him, the tempo quickening all the time. The rumble of Apollo's weight shifting over the tortured meadow was a more distant but consistent thunder, a reminder of the destruction the giant's size was causing to this part of the estate. Had he grown back into the house by now? Had the stable been smashed to splinters? Darrin could only think about the outside world for a second or two before he was anointed with another coating or squeezed into breathlessness by the rutting thoroughbred.

Darrin's feet bumped against the springy surface of Apollo's balls during one trip to the root; he knew the horse wouldn't last much longer. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed tight with hands that seemed too small to be felt, his clothes and hair matted to his flushed skin and dragged into new configurations by the relentless grind. He opened his eyes briefly to see the mottled flesh right in front of him, and his chest ached with a mixture of adrenaline and arousal. He traveled along the length possibly twice his height by now and marveled. Nothing could be the same after this. Something impossible was happening, right now, and he was a part of it.

His body curled around the horse's flare, which by now was big enough to remind Darrin of an enormous satellite dish. He was briefly aware of its swelling wider still, the ridges along the edge hardening visibly. A thunderous bray shook everything around him, and the horse's finger pushed him right against the opening. He felt it widen around his chest.

Darrin realized what was happening a split second before the flood slammed him back against the hard leather surface of Apollo's fingertip. The roar of seed drowned out everything else for several seconds. Darrin's breath was deluged away as hot, sticky ooze coated his face, buried his body, plastered him against the horse's finger.

Apollo shifted him higher until his head crested beyond the top of the flare and bumped into the short rough fur of the stallion's stomach. This time his legs were in the line of fire, the next long rush making his legs tingle and numb. He kept trying to get breath, wiping seed from his mouth and nose, but the veritable column of seed splashed onto his stomach. The heat and weight of it crushed his lungs for seconds at a time, and the pause only allowed him one panicked gasp.

He was brought back down until his shoulders and heat were pushed inside, and for a second he thought Apollo might simply stuff him into that cock. Then the slit yawned and the world went white, his head snapping back into the cushion of the stallion's fingers, his face buried by inches of seed. At last he was slipped under that twitching, bucking flare and squeezed into the bulging underchannel. Even as he half-drowned, he could feel what must have been dozens of gallons of semen coursing above him at intense speed. There was a heartbeat where the cock softened, and then another flood of seed that lasted for seconds. Then another, and another, and another. After what felt like an extraordinary time, the eruptions grew weaker and shorter.

More than a minute passed before Apollo began to settle, and Darrin spent most of that time clearing his nose and mouth so he could get more breath. He was able to take a few gulps of air to calm the fluttering heart in his chest. Then he brought up his hands to wipe his eyes and ears, which were hopelessly plugged. He felt like his chest would burst from the work of gathering oxygen. He couldn't quite feel his limbs. The world was spinning, and the roar of the stallion collapsed into the sound of his blood in his ears.

He felt the surface beneath him shift, and he was dimly aware of being lowered to the ground. The earth rolled as he was deposited to the grass as gently as Apollo could manage. Through the heavy, earthy scent of the horse he could barely make out the smell of grass and dirt. He tried to move, but his arms wouldn't work. When he finally opened his eyes, all he could see was a shifting sky of mottled white fur and a softening, pink and black tree lowering towards him.

Suddenly, strong hands were on his shoulders, shaking him gently. His eyes rolled in their sockets as he turned his head to see Roanoke staring at him with concern. He could see the Shepherd's muzzle moving, opening and closing in what must have been a bark. He couldn't hear the sound, though. Strange. There was just the steady roar, like a jet engine hovering right over head.

The dog bathed him with licks, and gradually the sound faded. Over long moments, he could feel his heart beating again, and a tingle settled in his extremities. The world resolved from a distant swirl of shapes and colors into something with distinct form again. Sounds became more familiar, but were still garbled. The world tilted as he was pulled upright to sit. Roanoake's hands were firm as they squeezed his shoulders.

What...what was he doing again? Why was he outside? Why was the grass all torn up? And why was someone wearing a Roanoke mascot costume? He shook his head. His thoughts were thick and slow. It took seconds for him to recognize the rough, barking voice was saying something to him. It took him a few seconds more to recognize the shudder of earth that marked a deeper, louder voice.

"Boss? Boss?!" Roanoke was larger than he should have been. A bear-sized muzzle nudged his cheek, and a tongue the size of a hand towel washed his chin and face. "Wake up, boss!"

"Darrin? Darrin! Please be OK! Please let everything be OK!!" That thunderous voice boomed all around him, shockingly loud. It was coming from above him, he realized.