FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Pushing back in his chair, Craig Meadows sighed. Below where his feet had been was the box, bloated with unmarked exam papers for Professor Warren's class for the semester that just completed.Got to get to those soon. Fuck. He could hear Professor Warren - or, as the man liked to be called off-campus, James - rummaging around downstairs. Either he was in his room, directly below Craig's, or in the laboratory below that._Guess I should get it over with..._There was a very limited timeframe for him to complete the marking: the grades had to be submitted for posting a week later. After losing a couple of days to moving in with Professor Warren, and working on his summer scholarship project, time was quickly running out.

Tapping his legs, Craig spun in the chair, hearing the cheap plastic groaning. He worried one day he'd sit down and impale his ass. The nominal rent the professor was charging him for the room was valued perfectly. Everything in the room appeared to be scavenged from what remained after the campus housing had their latest round of renovations; the only bit of furniture that wasn't was the desk. That Professor Warren had proudly states had been bought from the Fine Arts' graduate project auction. It was decorated with his large monitor and the bankers' lamp he got as a graduation gift a couple of weeks ago. Next to the desk, his computer hummed, filling the drives with calculation results and the room with additional heat. It presented Craig with a dilemma: open the window and let the sea blow the papers he was marking around, or leave it shut and bake in here.

Although it wasn't the most comfortable room to spend the summer, Craig took his suffering on the chin. The lighthouse, perched on a point of rock that seemed one good storm away of getting permanently cut off from the mainland, was definitely a unique place to stay for the summer. Working for Professor Warren was going to help as he shifted into grad school, and the clean, barely-used beach was in easy walking distance. He regarded it as a summer adventure: a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you remembered fondly when you were older and greyer.

Spinning back around to look at the box of exams, Craig suddenly_felt_older and greyer. Outside his window, the sun's summery, welcoming warmth and bright blue sky made it really hard to concentrate on staying stuffed inside his "box". He could only steel himself so much before plunging into the ocean of spelling and grammar errors, badly-argued points and flat-out wrongness from people who spent the semester trawling the internet for answers. Especially when the_actual_ ocean was calling to him, beckoning him down like a salty temptress.

Since his legs were instinctively tapping with impatience, Craig stood up. They got fidgety if he sat around for too long when he was bored, like earnest dogs wanting to roam around. Classes had been trying, but bearable: there he had the parks near campus and around his student housing to visit when they needed a stretch. None of them were like this, though: there was almost nobody on this coast, and the isolation demanded to be enjoyed. Craig felt himself slipping into Ozzie mode.It's just not an inside day today.It's a bloody corker out there!

Walking over to the window, he leaned over, feeling the air seeping in through the cracks. From his room, he could see pretty far along the coast. Most of it was too rough and choppy for people to visit, and the only area really flat enough was occupied by the motel, meaning everything looked almost impossibly pristine. Professor Warren had warned him about the motel's owner: a stubborn woman who owned most of the land nearby, and what she didn't she somehow leveraged control over. Craig was definitely grateful for that, even though she and the professor had had some kind of bad blood.

Looking over towards it, Craig's forehead furrowed. It seemed odd to him that she cared so much about nobody else ruining the area when she was doing a good job of that herself. The motel's one building was old and faded. The wooden panelling probably had never been repainted. The cement of the car park had split open like fudge, large cracks filled with grasses of a chaotic palette of green, yellow and brown. Their long leaves wriggled about in the sea wind like worms. From here, he could almost hear them.

Maybe I ought to go down and say hello? According to the professor, she's single,or maybe it's just the way he talked about her. Aside from her gender, Craig knew nothing about the motel owner. Fully realising that she was very likely ugly, fat, or old - and quite possibly all three - on top of being someone unpleasant enough to make even someone as laid-back as Professor Warren annoyed, she was the only woman nearby, especially if you excluded the few that zipped by in one of the infrequent vehicles that went along the road.

After getting a taste for real sex with a real woman, masturbating for months just didn't satisfy Craig enough. The front of his shorts twitched, his dick squirming towards the windowsill. Professor Warren hadn't forbidden him from going to see her explicitly, but he definitely made it clear that doing so would be a bad idea. Some of that taboo might have influenced Craig too._You won't know until you go and see her for yourself._He snorted in laughter, and grinned at himself. _I must be going stir-crazy. This is such a bad idea._Still, there were possibilities; even if she wasn't a hot single MILF in his area, as those annoying ads always talked about, she might have a good-looking daughter or granddaughter of around Craig's age who had come home to visit for the holidays.

Hmm. Go out, enjoy the sun and the beach, and maybe_fuck if I'm really lucky; or sit here and see how many people fucked themselves over last semester?For Craig, the choice was easy. He hoped Professor Warren would understand; not the need to go to the motel, but the need to get outside today. Already thinking of excuses, Craig heard his answers in his head._It was too hot, and I can't really open the window while I'm marking. I'll go over the papers when it's cooler outside. I read over a few to get a good idea of what should be in the marking schedule, but I needed to get it all worked out in my head before grabbing the Big Red Pen of Doom.

Craig's lithe body turned from the window, his long, thin legs zeroing him to the spot where his shoes sat by the door to his room. He was happy that he was ageing out of his lanky teenager phase properly now. Although he was still thin, he thought he had just enough definition from walking everywhere and hitting the gym to look "good enough" in and out of what he was going to wear: a loose t-shirt and shorts.Good enough for a lonely women to_maybe_get a little curious about what the young stud was like in bed...

As soon as he had his shoes on, Craig headed downstairs. He moved quickly, but carefully, hoping to avoid running into Professor Warren. Getting comfortable with his adult body was one thing; getting over all of his teenage hang-ups - included being grilled on where he was going every time he left the house - was another. The weight of his phone called his shorts to sag a little.Music. His hand reached in and pulled it out. Earphones were slipped in. A play-list was chosen. As soon as he was out of the lighthouse's front door, Craig was soon heading down the driveway, letting the sun and songs soak in.

Craig had been listening to more music lately. It was nice to have some background noise that wasn't just the professor rummaging around. Having grown up in a family that was only a little bigger than average, but that all more or less lived within a few blocks, he'd grown up used to noises and crowded rooms. Although this was a really beautiful, sunny spot, and he was comfortable going out into the wilds on his own, he found that he was missing his friends a lot more than he was expecting. Most would be busy with their own stuff over the summer - jobs, visiting their folks, working on their own postgraduate projects - but being away from everything had him feeling lonely. Talking online just wasn't the same as meeting up at a cheap-but-goodcaféor the drink hole of choice, going in with some mates to the surprisingly well-equipped gym owned by the student union, or even just staying at home and ordering a pizza.

Suddenly, Craig's stomach growled.I could go for a pizza. Maybe I could convince Professor Warren to get one next time we go into town?_The clingy feeling of loneliness slipped away, as he looked forwards to going back. He was most eager for getting back into dating, especially since he could afford a bit more than he used to. The stipend for his summer project was going to be barely dented by his low living costs. It wasn't a fortune, but Craig felt positively rich with the healthy rise in its numbers._When grad school starts, I'm going to have some fun!

Singing badly to himself as hecontinuedwalking, Craig stretchedhis shoulders out. Beads of sweat glided over his lean body. Already glad he'd gone outside, Craig went to fan himself off with his t-shirt, before changing his mind and slipping it off. He grinned, admiring his slender torso that was already starting to bronze nicely. Slinging his short over his shoulder, he turned back to sneak a quick glance back down the perilous driveway to the lighthouse, before he lightly jogged away. Craig wasn't worried that the professor was watching him, not too much anyway.Just in case, though...

A few steps down the side of the road later, and Craig felt exultant, trying to control the goofiness that wanted to infuse the smile spreading across his face.Safe!_He chuckled, trying to see if he could see the motel from his position; the road swerved up and down a lot._This is what summer's all about! Now, let's see if I can get some summer lovin' too...

Despite being within sight of the lighthouse, getting from there to the motel took Craig a surprisingly long time. It was almost like the beach didn't want him to go there. He had to stop and take off his shoes, which were his only pair and were not designed for walking along the sand. The sand itself was dry, and heaped up thickly in places, and swallowed his bare toes with each step. His pace slowed, not just from that but also because he had to probe carefully with his toes. Underneath the sand, he could feel edges of rock, shards of shell and buried slivers of glass. The idea of having to walk back with a cut foot, or worse, took a little shine off of the outing. The warm air heated; Craig could feel his sweat dripping all the way down. It pooled in his butt-crack and made his balls slick. He turned to gaze at the sea.Maybe a quick dip? Nah, better not. Water's probably cold. Don't want shrinkage.

By the time his sandy feet stepped onto the hot, cracked concrete slabs that were what remained of the motel's car park, Craig's body looked like he had stopped to take that dip, and his brain was regretting not going for it. His shortish black hair plastered against the contours of his head in a sodden mess. His brown eyes stung from blinking away waves of sweat.He licked his lips, feeling dried out inside and slickoutside.

Up close, the motel looked even more run-down. Each of the dozen or so rooms squatted in its place in the grid, thick faded leopard-print curtains drawn firmly shut. The door to the reception office was open; a quick glance showed nobody was manning it. Looking upwards, covering his eyes from the sun with his hands, Craig noticed something he hadn't parsed properly from what he could see from the lighthouse: the sign wasn't just faded; it was actually missing most of its letters. The whole place looked abandoned. It looked like it should have been condemned._Glad I'm not here in the dark. Place'd be fucking scary!_However, in the harsh, searing sunlight, it just struck Craig as kind of sad.

Maybe the owner can't afford to keep it up?_Some places were like that; and the people who owned them were just too proud to decide to call it quits. An idea occurred to Craig, which got a dry, horny chuckle out of him._Maybe we could make a deal, where I helped clean the place up a bit in return for "favours"? Craig didn't know anything about maintenance: his previous work experience had been either academic or retail. He felt buoyed by the idea of looking up online tutorials to fill in the gaps of his knowledge.

"Hello?!" Craig called out, his voice feeling hoarse, and he coughed.Just how fucking hot is it out here today?"Hello?! Anyone about?" He turned, scouting around, just in case someone was out doing the rounds. He didn't see a car; he wondered if he'd lucked out and picked the day that everyone went in to town. The shallow rumble of a passing car made him turn.Even the driveway is too fucking long.

Craig wandered in a triangle, leaving dissolving footprints of sweat as he paced. He headed towards the reception, wondering if anyone might just turn up; then he'd head down to the road, wondering if maybe he was right and nobody was in; then he'd wander towards the beach, considering taking a nice dip in the ocean. It would be, he felt, a good consolation prize for having sweaty blue balls for all his efforts.Could always come back afterwards, just to double-check. Attractive MILF or no, he wasn't sure he wanted to get laid so badly he passed out from dehydration. His head was starting to get uncomfortably foggy.

Just as he was about to leave, Craig thought he heard something. Putting his hand up again to shield his eyes, he looked about. His eyes landed on something small shining brightly out in the middle of some bushes. The beach was dented there, the sparkle coming from a small cluster of bushes. He paused, waiting, until he heard the sound again. Strangely, it sounded like an echo. He looked up at the cliff above, but didn't see anyone poking their heads over.Doesn't sound like it's up there; it sounds like it's over there.

Craig followed the sound. He was sure now that it was a voice. He didn't quite catch what she - he was also sure it was a female voice - was saying, but she sounded annoyed and a little anxious. He recognised it from the time he got separated from his mother in a big department store when he was five. It wasn't quite as frantic, though, and definitely more angry and frustrated.Sounds like her dog ran away, maybe? Or the cat wandered off and didn't come back?

Regardless of what the voice was saying, Craig arrived in the bushes. He quickly found what was glinting: the shiny lock on what looked like a rusted old storm drain grating, which had been left open. The key was still thrust into the keyhole._Someone's pushing their luck._He shuddered, imagining with horror what it would be like to be locked in there. "Hey! Is anyone in there?"

Pulling out his phone, Craig shone it down into the darkness. The woman's voice sounded again; farther off this time. Squinting into the darkness, he thought he saw a flashlight swing around. He stepped past the grating, sliding his shoes quickly over his feet before stepping into the darkness.At least it's cooler in here than it is outside.

Craig decided he would give a quick look around: he wouldn't go out of sight of the grate, he wouldn't take any turns down any pipes, and he'd spend no longer than fifteen minutes. After that, he was going to go to the motel; if they had working phones, he'd call the police, and if not he'd call them from the lighthouse.

Swinging his phone back and forth, Craig squinted; after being in the big bright outdoors, it took his eyes a while to get used to the dim light that quickly became utter darkness. He would swing around occasionally, worried that the grating would swing and become locked behind him.Don't worry, if Professor Warren notices you're not there, he's not just going to sit on his ass and do nothing. He knows you can't go too far. Especially not without a car.

Concern and growing fear made Craig careless about where he put his feet, and a slippery, slimy patch of moss or something caught him. Landing hard, he managed to save his phone from being crushed, at the cost of a painful jolt in his shoulder. "Fuck!" He pressed himself up carefully, feeling all the places he'd taken off a bit of skin when he stumbled.That's it! He was about to go, when he noticed something had pressed and stuck to the skin of his hands.

Turning his phone on to it, and wiping off the muck with his t-shirt, Craig looked: it was a ring that looked like it was made out of gold. Not a gold ring; this one was too wide to be worn about a finger. He tried, and all he felt was a weird buzz. "What the fuck is this?" He stared at it, turning it over in his hands. It hadn't been in here long; it was dirty and slimy, but still very shiny. Shrugging, he slipped it into his pocket, and turned towards the grating.

"Please! I've slipped and hurt my ankle!"

The voice was clearer then; clear, female and in distress. Craig turned immediately, shouting into the darkness. "Where are you?"

"I can see you, if you're the lean man standing near the grate. Sorry, I dropped my flashlight. I was in here, looking for my bastard dog. Got into my jewellery collection, and ran off like the little shit he is."

Craig stepped forwards, swinging about. He couldn't see the woman, but he could definitely hear her. She sounded exactly like the no-nonsense hard-ass MILF he'd been thinking about. Despite his concern and the slowly dulling aches in his body, he started to think of her "thanking" him for coming to her rescue._Not now!_His body, of course, didn't listen.

Neither did the strange ring which he had picked up. Craig was too occupied to notice that it was sliding of its own accord across his thigh, the lining straining and brushing up against his skin. Stepping further forwards, he yelped; his pocket tore, and the cold, smooth metal slipped against the heating flesh of his thickening cock.

"You're almost there!"

Craig scanned about frantically, searching the darkness as the ring continued: it slid along his shaft, then looping over the head, gliding down. Craig's arms lowered for a moment, shuddering with pleasure as the golden ring slipped into place, nestling amongst his dark pubic hairs. His erection grew unbidden, seriously tenting his shorts. With how lean his legs were, and with the extra layers the material gave, the rigid erection seemed extra big. It_felt_big too; it was really hard. All the sweat that had gathered down there made it slippery and the tip slid around, making it worse.

Focus, idiot! Craig shook his head, trying to clear out all the lustful thoughts invading his head.I've got to find it - her! Squeezing his phone - more to keep a good grip on something that wasn't his bobbing, throbbing penis than to make sure he didn't lose his only light source as he pushed deeper into the darkness. He swung it back at forth, at its fullest brightness, looking for any out-of-place splash of colour. "Where are you?!" He was getting a little frustrated; he remembered her saying that she was close, but where was she?

Darkness swallowed Craig up, but his other senses worked fine. His shaft continued to stretch and slide, pulling the fabric of the shorts higher up his legs. It was getting so bad, it was making walking difficult: he wasn't used to walking around with fabric riding right up between his buttocks. Craig wanted to take them off - they were really uncomfortable - but he knew that would be a mistake.She might see it, and that having me come at her with a raging boner would be a bad first impression. It was hard to miss as it was, without him drawing attention to it.

Finally it got so bad that he just stopped, reached in and pulled it out. The gold ring fitted snugly around the base of his long, thick, slick pink pole. The hard pointed tip was smeared with the fluids that had leaked out, excited by it brushing against the fabric. That it looked very little like the penis he was used to in shape, size, or texture didn't occur to Craig. Having it erect felt good, and his brain wanted to keep feeling those good feelings.

Letting his erection rest up against the middle of his chest, the fleshy tube jutting out of a thickening ring of skin that bunched up beneath the golden one, which had expanded to squeeze nicely against his enhanced girth. Craig moaned, feeling the heat radiating off of it as it pressed against him, all the way up to where his ribs met.

"You're almost there!"

Craig looked towards the sound. It was another golden ring; the metal was about as thick as the first one, but the hole was bigger. After he picked it up, he noticed it wasn't just a ring. A lump of gold came off of it, shaped into a hook. He looked downwards, lowering the waistband of his pants. It relieved some of the pressure from the elastic rubbing against his cock, but Craig was mostly interested in seeing whether they were a matching set.

They were. After studying it for a while, Craig pulled his boxers down lower, threading his testicles through the opening carefully before lining up the connecting rod with the ring sitting snugly around his cock. His hips bucked, the muscles controlled by the shock of energy that jolted through him as they locked into place._A matching set._Slowly letting go of the waistband, he wanted nothing more than to just stop and stroke himself. Whatever the rings were designed to do, they worked exceptionally good at stimulating him. He jammed his phone in his pocket, gripping onto the slimy stones as his nuts churned, his body sweating just as much in the cold, damp tunnel as he had been outside on the beach.

Panting and drooling, Craig watched the dim outline of the front of his shorts thicken again, this time not with a tent-pole but with a nice, round bulge.I'm going to fucking cum! His balls certainly felt like they might; they almost seemed to squirm. He could feel them sagging, tugging his scrotum skin smooth as they bulged out. Hormones flooded around him. He licked his lips. He couldn't; not just yet.

Find me.

"I'll find you!" Craig said, his voice seeming to crack again. His throat looked swollen, his Adam's apple jostling about. Wiping his hand against his head, Craig winced, feeling just how tight his trousers felt now. Only he_couldn't_ stop. He had to find_it_, whatever_it_ was. Craig's phone almost slipped out of his hands; sweat gushed out of him. He staggered about, snuffling with his nose and craning his eyes and ears for the next clue as to his search.

Soon Craig was walking more comfortably. The weight of his growing sack now felt normal; it was his clothing that felt wrong and strange.I'll take them off soon. His smile shone in the darkness as he hunted around.Where is it? Where's that gold... He continued to move, glancing back at the shrinking light of the grate as he turned left, following the wall. An old navigation trick pulled itself from his memory. His left hand slammed, sliding through the slime that coated the wall; his right squeezed his phone, hunting for the next glimmer.

No natural light shone this deep. Craig's face was twisted, almost unrecognisable by the lust and_need_ he had for the next piece. It was still his face, although the part of him that worried about that was rapidly shrinking, drowning in a flood of new hormones his body wasn't build to control. He grinned like a mad-man: it was two pieces this time! These were only rings in the loosest sense; they could be more accurately described as tubes of gold. They were an evenly-matched pair as well, with fine symbols etched into them.

Craig tried them first on his arms, but got the same odd buzzing in the one that he tried that suggested that was wrong.Odd. They look like bracers."Fuck it, idiot! Think!" He knew it was hard to - so much of him just wanted to jack off - but he knew that doing this would make it all feel a whole lot better. He_had_ to figure out how put them on. He beat at his own head until it started to throb even more as he tried to figure them out. Squeezing them in his hands as the light of his phone shone dully through the fabric of his distended shorts, the correct solution finally dawned on him.

Wriggling out of his shoes one at a time, Craig threaded the gold up his legs. They squeezed his ankles a lot, almost to the point of breaking them, but he forced them on, feeling them as they clicked into place around his shins. Once both were on, he rubbed them; touching the gold was almost as good as touching himself and he moaned, feeling sparks filling his eyes. His ankles and shins throbbed, the skin on his feet itching, and even his toes pulsing as he left his shoes behind, staggering deeper into the tunnels.

Walking became difficult within a few steps, but Craig pushed himself onwards. The golden bands were sliding down his shins, slowly shifting downwards as they began to shrink. They slid down over still-sweaty skin, revealing a coating of thick black hairs that spread on their own, up towards his knees. Each shift of his altering feet caused his massive sack to swing, the bulge in his pants oscillating.

Wriggling his toes to rid himself of the cramping twitches as their flesh merged and reshaped, Craig swaggered into the darkness. Underneath, his bones warped and flexed, bending and stretching and shrinking. The shins that were once proudly adorned in gold slipped further off of them as they dwindled, fitting for comfortably over his changing feet. Stepping was easier to do on the balls of his feet; his soles raising to help keep him sturdy. Two thick toes splattered down with each foot, the keratin of the nails knitting together. Nubs of old toes slipped up the sides, sliding under the gold guards that morphed around his changing, hair-covered flesh.

The difficulty Craig had earlier in walking was gone; each step becoming easier as his hooves thickened out. He charged forwards, swinging his phone around; he had the vague sense that he wouldn't need it soon. His eyes were keenly scouting the darkness, picking up on some broad shapes._You know what they say about guys with big hooves..._He grinned, pausing a moment to just relish in the sensation of his hefty sack hanging heavy off of his skin, the cool feeling of gold keeping him aroused - not that that was too difficult - but also keeping him nicely pent up as he continued his search.

Tucking his t-shirt into the back of his shorts, leaving a bit to hang out the back, gave Craig a weird, potent little thrill. He stared down, admiring the thickness of his leg and cock. He would be glad to get rid of the shorts._Not yet..._He couldn't quite put his finger on why he wanted to leave them on, or why he kept his t-shirt but not his shoes. He had already forgotten about his shoes anyway: all Craig remembered was the hooves, and the feeling of them on the slick stony linings of where he was.

Almost when Craig was going to go mad with desperation did he find the next golden item._Finally!_This he recognised immediately, stepping into the middle of the smooth golden ring and pulling it upwards, sliding it all the way over his legs. It somehow stretched, letting him pull it over the oozing tip of his dick, before sliding down to nestle snugly around his waist. Relief washed over him as he placed it on, moaning as he felt it take its effect on his body.

Muscular hairy lower legs capped with hooves, and giant beastly genitals just felt too mismatched for Craig. He didn't realise just how_erotic_it could be feeling his buttocks firm and thicken with each step, his rump rounding out into pleasing curves. Hair prickled through his skin, spreading downwards towards his still-bare knees, ready to wash over what was left of his human body below the waist. He continued, strutting proudly as the muscles filled out, straining the shorts even further.

Eventually they grew too tight. Craig could feel his balls squeeze unpleasantly against the front of the fabric, which strained over legs as thick and round as his head: they were not designed for his waist or his leg-size, and certainly not for someone sporting a full pelt, which was quickly becoming the case. Despite the pain, his cock throbbed excitedly, and he moaned.Yes... now...

Craig stood, spreading his legs apart, and_flexed._ The fabrics of his shorts, already tested, stretched beyond what they were capable of. Strips of it burst out of him, exploding into the darkness like startled bats. His hand reached down; a firm tug, and the elastic waistband snapped. It whipped across his skin, giving his cock a startling, but oddly arousing, whipping feeling.

Panting, Craig stared down: he watched the upward encroachment of hair, his narrow body stretching outwards into a powerful, muscular form. Thick abdominals rippled in the dull glow of his phone as he caressed his torso with his free hand. Drool ran over his jaw, savouring the feeling of strength that pulsed through him with every breath. He felt like he could run a mile and not break a sweat. He felt massive and powerful and potent.More! He knew he wasn't done yet; he knew he needed to hunt for more gold, but he took one more look of admiration at himself before finally leaving the tattered remains of his clothing behind. This time, he forgot his t-shirt.

Now completely nude aside from his golden raiment, Craig felt truly comfortable. The thick, soft, almost smooth skin of his sack swayed easily, nestled in between his legs. He felt so good he ran towards the next artefact, feeling it pulling him onwards. All the other pieces he wore throbbed; not as vigorously and immediately as the needs of his cock, which now ached for comfort and helped keep him focus on moving swiftly without slipping over, but with a subtler strength. Their primary purpose was fulfilled; they now stayed to guide him on his path.

Craig squatted down, losing his phone in the process when he left it in water. It didn't matter now; he had seen what it was, and he knew these new pieces would help guide him onwards. There weren't many more pieces left. Like the pieces on his legs, these fit nicely on his forearms, which dutifully swelled, hairs bursting from his human skin with such force that it more or less tore. It didn't hurt: he was too strong, too_powerful_, to let such a small thing hurt. It felt more like ripping out of his shorts had done, relaxing as he finally felt free. As soon as he thought of the comparison, Craig's old clothing left his mind forever.

Although he couldn't see the thickening muscles in his forearms, he could feel them. He clenched his biceps, feeling it round outwards. Turning and flexing let him feel the triceps and all of the other heavy muscles of his new, incomplete body. Before starting off again, he reached down, feeling for a smooth rock; he knew there would be one, and he didn't spend long hunting for it, despite the pitch blackness and that the rock itself was normal. Picking it up, he felt how hand and strong it was; he grunted and gritted his teeth, squeezing the rock in his hands. He felt the rock groan, then his swelling fingers slipped. Opening his hands, he let the dust fall into the damp air before continuing.

The golden armlets grew with Craig's forearms, giving just enough room for the bulging veins and thick coating of hair that spilled in both directions. It covered almost everything from the shoulders down. Stomping around on his hooves, his heavy arms swayed as he continued his hunt.Not long now. That made him relieved. He struggled to remember what it was like_not_to have a massive, unsated erection glistening and oozing in front of him. His heavy balls were ready to bubble over; the thickening muscles helped redirect the aroused energy into something. Still, his brain felt like it was on fire. His head throbbed, trapped in an invisible helmet.Too tight.

Craig took turn after turn, frustrated with how far the next piece was away. He didn't worry about leaving; both hands squeezed beside him, pairs of fingers growing together on his widening hands. Knuckle by knuckle, the hairy flesh advanced. While there wasn't any hair on his palms, the skin grew hot, peeling off in layers. Underneath, new skin grew: layer by layer his palms darkened and thickened, becoming leathery brown and tough. Making another fist with each, he felt the curving, merging ends of his upper hooves.

Although shaped roughly like a man, most of Craig's body was anything but human. What remained was a sweaty wild mess that felt confining and wrong. He knew that he had to find the other pieces here in the gloom, where he could just about see the faint outlines of things in the darkness, but it didn't really stop the ache. Occasionally, he would scratch at it with his thick, half-hairy fingers, trying to dig out some pressure to the unpleasant throbbing.

Sensing his closeness, Craig scrambled, panting and growling towards the next piece. Feeling the wide curving sheet, he wasted no time in placing his head through the hole. The weight of gold rested on his shoulders, his body already responding. He bellowed; it was almost as good as orgasming. His chest strained, pectorals rounding out into massive slabs of muscle. Under the gold, his shoulders broadened, stretching out. Veins stuck out of his neck, which stretched. Black hair blossomed over him, covering everything.

All this Craig felt as he stomped rapidly towards the next tugging influence. Spirals of beastly hair grew over his mountainous chest, ending at the thick browning circles of his areolae. His nipples stuck out, eager for their own ornamentation._Soon._His body stumbled through the darkness, skin itching where it almost completely covered his massive shape from the neck down.

Suddenly Craig stopped, a tight hand squeezing his chest. He struggled for air, his crazy eyes spinning with colours that weren't there. Inside his body, his transformation spread to his core: his lungs and heart swelled, better suited for something of his size and the needs of his muscle. Invigoration washed over him in waves as he recovered, flexing eagerly and sprinting through the darkness. Every step, the thick golden ring covering his shoulders felt smaller and lighter.

Feeling his nipples tug him in a direction, Craig obediently followed them as they wiggled about, standing stiffly atop the mounds of black-haired muscle. He sensed he had been this way before; something of his own scent seemed to be hanging in the moist air. Crossing over, he barely noticed the light shining through the grates, which were now shut, the key gone from the lock. Instead, he wondered how he had not felt this pulling before.

Craig's prize was not too far away, which left him even more confused. That passed from his mind as he used his thick, clumsy fingers to pick up the small pieces of golden jewellery that had been left here in a pile for him to find. Grunting in annoyance, he managed to put his fingers around a small, thick ring. Bringing it up to his right nipple, he sensed it opening, although he had not felt one as the ring rested on his wide fingertips. The opening that was there quickly closed; it sliced through the sensitive flesh of his nipple, bloodlessly piercing him as his hand quickly looked to find its mate.

While Craig pierced his other nipple, which felt more for his own mental satisfaction than a required piece to change his body, his fingers stumbled onto the next piece. It was the largest of the remaining jewellery, and he already knew what to do with it. He brought it up to his nose, flaring his nostrils as wide as they could. His mouth hung open - the ring was as big as each nostril, and his growing need of air couldn't be quenched by holding his breath - and jammed the ring into his septum.

Some of the pressure Craig had been feeling in his head eased, as if the piercing had popped some bubble inside. The rush left him leaking down his already-lubricated shaft. His nose widened, air curling over the quivering pink nostrils that browned to match his nipples and the exposed skin on his hands. Becoming as damp as the air around him, he bellowed as his nose widened further, pushing out of his head.

Eager to keep going, Craig dropped his hands down, scrabbling for the piece he knew would be in the pile. His nipples throbbed once he touched the golden, engraved tongue stud, guiding him to further his continuing transformation. Opening up his lips, straining as his face started to push out, he stuck his tongue out, drooling all over himself. The muscular protrusion split and fused as he slid the stud into position, then the pierced tongue swelled and stretched. A beastly grunt crawled out of his throat; the power of his two newest piercings changing him swelling as their effects multiplied.

Most of Craig was unrecognisable now; the distorted face was clearly more bovine than human, even though it was still far from completion. Shifts and tweaks propagated back, even as he rummaged around, feeling for what his brain told him were there. Two rings, with large flat golden rectangles engraved with similar runes that were on everything on or through him. Struggling, fading human instincts made him bring them up to his earlobes, but he shifted them higher, feeling the heartbeat pulse through his ears as the gold pierced them.

As his ears stretched and flattened out, strengthening to support the gold tags now threaded through each, Craig fumbled for the last two pieces. Small round fingers seemed to push out of his head as the flesh underneath shifted. He closed his eyes, feeling his heavy bull skull settle into the right spot on his neck, black hair spreading across his itchy face. Fingers rolled the two hollow rings around, hunting around for the right spot. Grimacing, he smashed them down into his flesh near his temples.

Horns erupted out, the growing thick keratin structures holding the rings in place as he retreated. A piece remained; there had to be, because he felt maddeningly incomplete. Every step grew his horns, stretching out of his bull-head, further cementing that the figure stomping towards the grating was nothing like that of the thin, young man who had entered, willing to help.

Even the memory of that man was twisting. The minotaur prowling around in the darkness knew something of the man whose flesh had completely distorted to create him.Meadows. What was once a surname was now an enticing thought: a wide, open field where he could graze and relax in the sun. The shape of the lighthouse he took for a model of his own slick, angry rod. Thinking of the professor filled him with rage, a voice crawling through his head agreeing and encouraging this hatred and distrust.

Walking towards the gate, the minotaur glanced from its large bovine eyes to the figure. It was shapely. Feminine. The smell wasn't right, though, and he was far more interested in the thing she held through the bars in her hand. It was large and thick; a smooth rod. She offered it to him, a wild grin on her face and filling her eyes. Picking it up, he looked at it, turning it around in his hands before moving it towards his rear end. Squatting, he pushed the dark ring of his sphincter out as far as it could manage, lining the smooth gold tip up with it.

Bellowing, he inserted it in himself; it was the only thing that his body protested against when he inserted. It felt foolish; forcing it in, the golden rod brushed up against his prostate, exciting it. Fingers forced it in as he let out another bullish moan. Panting, he left it in there, sliding into him under its own power, sliding back and forth in his guts.

Gripping the grating's bars, the minotaur grunted and squeezed. A growth emerged near the base of his spine. Stretching and filling out, his tail grew. Black hairs bristled on the end, growing rapidly into a thick tassel. Horns clanked against the bars, his buff body moaning and grinding against them as his prostate was stimulated and his tail stretched out.

Other thoughts filled the minotaur's head. The vague hints of lust for the creature before him faded. Glancing down at his own cock, he imagined the excitement of something like that sliding in the place of the dildo, pumping and thrusting. He almost imagined the heavy hands cupping his wide hips, pounding away. Faces - masculine, beastly faces- seemed to appear over his shoulder as he glanced back, grinning with lust, before fading away, leaving him further inflamed.

Words filled his head. They weren't his own, and drove away his remaining independent thoughts. What was left was the basic instincts of life: all thoughts and memories were bound to Her.At night, I will take you to meet your brothers. For now, turn around. I will brand you, sealing you forever in this form. Then you will hide in your labyrinth, minotaur.

Nodding, the minotaur turned around, pressing his rump up against the bars. Fingers twisted around the horizontal metal bars, grips tightening around them. Squirming his rear, he let his tail hang free, raising it up as the woman chanted, lifting a branding iron. It started to glow as he pressed his back against the bars. The golden dildo pounded frantically, building up in pace.

Smelling his own flesh sizzling, the minotaur felt the brand press against him. All of the gold in or around his body burst with renewed power, scouring the creature of his humanity. Gritting his thick, flat teeth, the minotaur felt the golden rings around his cock and balls fuse into him, releasing his body. As the rest entered him, the trapped energy of his massive nuts surged through him. His thoughts flooded with another branded monster, eagerly climaxing in his rear.

Through his ducts, his heavy monster sperm swirled. Pressure swelled in his shaft one final time, and it was only the force of Her that kept him quiet. Pink tip raising, the flesh parted slightly as thick heavy cum blasted out of it, spilling into the lazy stream that carried it off into the sea. It splattered everywhere as his penis thrashed about, unconstrained by anything but his sheath and the thick web of flesh that attached it to the rippling muscles of his abdomen.

She hadn't waited to watch this; She had only come to perform this final act. The minotaur stayed for a moment, squirting out his juices, thick dollops sliding down his smooth pink shaft. He splattered himself on his chest when his cock swung about with the force. His balls throbbed, glad to be emptying all over the ground and himself.

When the minotaur finally opened his eyes, they reflected the gold that had made him. His transformation hadn't been completely over; as he extricated himself from the bars and returned to the darkness to wait for his next command, his body grew, swelling until it was a couple of feet taller and wider.

Golden vision allowed him to see the dark tunnels easily, as if his eyes were his own private summer sun. Stomping down, he followed the tunnels._Home._He felt comfortable here, particularly in the dark recesses, where his obedience was rewarded with a weight lifting from his thoughts.

Once far enough to be hidden, should anyone pass by the grating, the minotaur reached a muscular arm behind himself. He felt for his asshole, probing one finger inside. The hoof was harsh and sharp, but his flesh was built to be tough. Removing the golden dildo from his asshole was not his intention; he was merely interested in feeling it sliding in and out, and wondering what it was like to do so.

Raising his tail, the minotaur sat down. His thick skin allowed him to ignore the cold wetness that crept over his back. Sticking out his long tongue, he twisted his neck down, trying to clean off his cock before it slipped farther down into his sheath. As he did, he cupped his sack, enjoying the warmth.

Already he could feel the flare of new arousal._Wait._It was the only thing he had to do. There was no food here, but he did not feel hungry, and he had the idea She would bring him something later, when she came to open the grating again. He would wait, sitting her almost mindlessly, resting until his body recovered from orgasm.

Squeezing his balls again, the minotaur couldn't wait for them to refill. He flexed his muscles, blissfully happy to indulge his instincts: to show off his strength, even if just to himself, and to drain his heavy balls and let out some of the sexual energy pumped into him from the golden dildo pummelling his guts.