FSE

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Transformed into a Bull

Part two of three

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Thebodyswapeur

_ _

_ _

For he heard the village, technically, before he came upon it, the trees fanning out and thinning to reveal a village with thatched roofs, a little cobbled bridge that stretched over a river. He eyed the bridge dubiously before heading for the river itself, which was shallow enough for him to splash across, grunting and muttering under his breath.

“Unbelievable… Someone must be playing a…unff…prank…on me…"

He had to climb the bank on the other side, for it was a little steeper, grasping and grabbing at tussocks of grass with which to haul himself bodily up. Leo puffed out his cheeks with air, though could not see them on either side of his face anymore. Dimly accepting the notion that he had been transformed into another body, even though his rational mind still grappled with the concept, he wondered if his eyes had shifted position too. Surely a village, even one that looked to be staged for a TV show or perhaps a renaissance experience, would lead him right though? They had to have mirrors. And, if it was a TV crew or something like that, they could at least help him in some way, take him to their first aiders or to the hospital, whatever worked. He didn't really care anymore.

It helped that he was steadier on his legs, covering a good chunk of ground with every stride, but he still didn't feel comfortable talking. It just wasn't his voice.

A woman in a long, blue dress and leather belt cinched at the waist came out of one of the first houses and he raised his hand, resisting the urge to jog over to her. He didn't think that he could quite take running yet.

“Hey! You! What's going… Hey?"

Her scream cut through the air, drowning out anything further that Leo was going to say, though he loathed the sound of that voice, pulling on some frustrated note, even then, deep within his psyche. She turned and fled, looking back over her shoulder at him, though he didn't give chase, perplexed.

“Who's there?"

“Oh, it's him!"

“Hide!"

Other hides popped out of the windows of the houses, eyes widen, whether they were men, women or children – no one wanted to come out to see him. He growled, stomping on, cupping his hands to his lips so that he could help project the sound of his horribly rough voice a bit better. At least his headache, in some way, had softened. That was the only benefit to getting away from where he'd woken up, in the end.

“Hey!" He roared, slamming a hoof into the ground and shattering the stone wall of a small, round well that he supposed had been built as part of the film set. “I know you all think I'm part of this, but I'm really not! So, will someone get out here and take some initiative, take the bull by the horns, and let me know what the hell's going on? I need a doctor!"

Shrieks heralded his approach as he stormed through a narrower alleyway, scraping up the wall and smashing through the wooden corner of the building into an open marketplace, though the vendors were already hollering and rushing to hide. He bellowed, tipping forward, his chest thrust out before him.

“You're idiots!" He shouted, his voice carrying and echoing strangely off the buildings that framed the marketplace, however temporary, which had been set up. “All of you! I'm not here to scare anyone on your set…whatever this is! I need your manager – is there a director around here? I need to go to a hospital! Come on, this is serious!"

It may not have been as serious as he wanted them to believe, considering that he was at least upright and, bar the scratch on his arm, didn't seem to be injured. Yet with him thinking that they were a film set recording something for a fantasy show it made sense, in a way, that a rather twisted, elaborate prank had indeed been pulled on him. Maybe with make-up, prosthetics…something like that. It was a stretch, but, as he charged about, slamming through the stands, anger boiling like he'd never felt before, tossing fruit high from their rather well-designed displays, he had to grasp at any straws that were thrust his way.

“Help me! P-p-please! I neeeeed… What… Mooooooo!"

The more he tried to talk, the more he reeled from his voice. The deepness of it, ugh… So heavy and so coarse, as if it was coming from the mouth of a meathead without a jot of knowledge between his ears. It was humiliating to stutter and fumble with his words, but he found himself less and less able to talk as he clamoured for help, even trying to block the exit of a man in a strange sort of formal attire with a jacket that had tails on it.

“Youuuu," he bellowed, something in his throat forcing him to drag out the syllable. “Sto-p-p! I need h-h-help!"

“Ugh!"

The man reeled, pulling away, thrusting a handkerchief, which smelled sharp and strong, as if the whole thing had been dipped in lemon extract.

“You reek!" The man said, though he did not speak as if he expected a response, ducking his head and making good his exit while Leo was busy trying to formulate even a single sentence that made sense to him in his burning frustration. “Ugh… No wonder they put up wards to keep the beasts away! Guards? Guards! Where are the guards!"

Leo slowed and stilled, a hand rubbing his throat, sore from trying to talk and shout that much, but he hadn't seen any other way to get attention. But…there was something new, even as he slowed his rate of breathing the best he could, shifting his weight, feeling something move behind him… Yet that was not where his attention was.

“Why won't…you help me?" He said more quietly, more softly, better able to formulate his words, as he had done in the forest, like that. “You… You are all scared of me."

It was obvious to see and yet it still concerned him, burning deep inside, though it softened the edge of his anger and took the sharpest of points off it. He sighed heavily, shaking his head, better used to the weight tipping it from side to side, though his neck had begun to ache. Maybe he hadn't been moving in the way that his body was supposed to.

Yet…he still didn't know where he was and there was no film equipment around or people that seemed to be managing things. Maybe he'd been wrong to think of it as a film set or performance, for they seemed to have not been expecting him. That could have been just as well too, considering that he had smashed up a good part of it, splintered carts in his wake and huge cloven hoof prints in the ground, churning up the grass where he leapt off the path. There was even a huge scrape down the alleyway and chunks of timber missing from some of the more lightly built houses. The newer, reinforced houses appeared to be built from brick and stone and he blinked, laying his hand on one, feeling the smoothness of it, how the stone warmed to his heat.

They saw him as a beast. A dull, smelly beast… So, what did that actually make him? He almost didn't want to know and yet it was something that he was going to have to find out, one way or the other.

With a deep breath, he headed into the village, making it almost to the other side, eyes watching him the whole way from hiding spots, before finding another well. That one was a bit larger, without a roof too that would get in the way, and almost struck him as more of a fountain. The rainfall there must have been better than where he was from, for the water level was high enough for him to peer in.

His breath tightened in his chest, yet he still breathed, doing all that he could to keep the breath even, even as blood roared in his ears.

No…

_ _

He didn't want to acknowledge it, not the big blur that was him. Finally, he saw that the big obstructions on his head were horns: big, chunky grey horns that almost seemed larger than his head itself. Yet they were the dominating feature of his face and he raised his hand, shaking, finding not a bracelet but a manacle there. It only had looked like a bracelet before because his wrists were so thick and meaty, difficult for even something like that to be placed upon. But that was all he could do, leaning further into the well, straining to see more, the water level a couple of metres down.

“Please…"

He wanted to see, wanted to try to pick out details from the blurry reflection, though it was harder than even Leo could have imagined. His purple head was one thing but so was the beard spilling from his jaw, something that he had not felt before, so focused on his nose and what had been pushing into his vision. It was rough and scraggly, tamed as if into a discerned shape while still feeling wild under his fingers. Yet he growled and shook his head still, frustrated to find out that he had a snout, that his eyes… That his eyes glowed a menacing crimson.

No wonder they had been terrified of him.

Looking down at his leg, Leo gulped. Wasn't it obvious? The reek of bull filled his nostrils, the musk of a beast something that, finally, he found himself able to put words to, though he had been too busy grappling with his new body to understand it before.

It was not just a beast that he had been turned into, that he really was, if things were truthfully proceeding in that manner. No, he was so much more than that, running his fingers back and up through the light blue mane on top of his head, spilling down the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades. Or, perhaps more accurately, so much worse than that, at least when it came to him, for the blurry, wavering face staring back at him from the murky well water was none other than Alistar the bull champion from League of Legends.

Rage boiled inside him: it was easier to dig into than anxiety, than unfurling the furious, tight ball of fear that had someone lodged itself where it did not belong in his ribcage. He howled, smashing through the well, fingers gripping, digging in, pulling, wrenching it loose, rock by rock. It had not done anything to him and the anger was misplaced for Leo – yet that kind of anger, burning him up from the inside out, all-consuming, was perfectly placed for Alistar. The bull was a hothead, a meathead, a dumb fool – and now that was all that Leo had become too, even without realising that he had taken on some of the bull's anger and thought patterns. When he'd never been one to get angry, as a man, the bull was – and “raging out" was practically the stupidest character trait that Leo could have assigned to him.

Yet it was so, no matter how many times he repeated over in his head that it was not, that it could never be. His own face, as Alistar, stared right back at him, disputing what he hoped was true, what he wanted to be real.

But that panic, that anger… Oh, it could not be contained as he reeled back, smashing through the well, ripping it down to the ground, bellowing and stomping. No more could he bring intelligible words to his lips, for he was just the bull, just the champion, nothing that ever needed to be coherent and speak. The metal dug into his back, what had been implanted there, though his panic-ridden mind could not understand, not then, that that was something important in the games, tied into alchemy, all that could control the character.

Yet how could he possibly be just a character when he was real, when he was bellowing and heaving, raking in huge breaths of air through his meaty, plump nostrils and snout? He roared and tipped forward, fists thrust out behind him, muscles bulging, thick ropes of them lining his body.

But it wasn't him! He knew that and grappled with it, even as he withdrew, fighting to crush that anger. Maybe if he didn't wreck the village, didn't give in to the wiles of the beast, everything would be better. And yet Leo didn't think that things could ever be better, not ever again, not as he clamped a hand over his snout, pinching on either side with his thumb and forefinger. It wasn't much but it grounded him a little, enough to growl savagely and storm off through the village as if it had personally offended him.

He didn't want to act like that brute, not like Alistar, so that was why he clenched his jaws and pelted into a run. If he had too much energy to use up, he had to hurl himself into one direction or another, had to use it in some way. Even if he went head over hooves, maybe he would not, at the bare minimum, not hurt anyone else, for everyone had hidden from him. Hell, that was exactly what Leo would have done if he'd randomly had Alistar charging in and bellowing like the fiend that he was!

And yet…there was some pleasure to be had in running too, in expending all that bundled up energy in his body. He grunted and heaved, curious as to how he had adopted a forward-tilting stance, putting his head and horns in front of his body. Even as a human runner – well, he'd watched them on TV – he had not seen things like that except for when they were crossing the finishing line. He, as Alistar, was not looking for an extra burst of speed, however, but merely settling into the position that suited that body best.

With a more natural position came more natural movement. He was not in his own mind enough to understand that running was far easier than walking simply because he was not overthinking it, though it was partly because he had gotten used to that weight and heft of muscle too. That played a part as he hurtled out of the village like a lightning bolt, driven by the heaving rolls of thunder to his back that were his hooves.

It was settling, reassuring in a sense, and his mind fell blanker and blanker as he fled along the river, stomping and bellowing, his nostrils flaring for huge drags of breath that were still very much needed for his overworked lungs. The speed too… That was intoxicating in a way that he had not thought honestly possible, grunting and groaning as he slowed, finding a less headlong pace that worked for him.

To his back, he left deep hoofprints in the soil and wet mud as he fled, though his strong, deeply pounding pace covered more ground than Leo could have thought possible. He was physically fit and strong, even if there was a thicker bit of muscle over his midriff – no, not muscle, it was fat. But it was merely there because a bull like Alistar didn't have any cares about his physical appearance, not like that, something that those that were into that sort of body shape and type might have called a muscle gut.

Or something like that. He didn't know, because Alistar himself didn't have a name for it, the bull's mind leaking into his as if there was a drain connecting them. And, even then, Leo couldn't stop it up, grunting thickly and pawing uselessly at his own head, as if he was trying to yank his horns off to the side. It didn't help as the voice in his head, Alistar's voice as his thoughts, strengthened.

This is stupid, this is so fucked up… He thought, but the words didn't even sound right when they came in that voice, without any stuttering bellows cutting through the clarity of them. I can't be that stupid bull, oh my god… And all those things I was thinking, taking the bull by the horns, getting angry… That's all him – not me! It's never me!

_ _

Yet he still seemed, in some way, able to control himself. After all, even though he had been practically in a full-on rampage, tearing up the well as if it had personally scorned him with the sight of his own face, he had been able to stop. He had been able to decide to leave, to not lean into the horror of being the bull anymore.

He slowed to a walk, which came more easily too, using the momentum from his run to carry him forward, settling a little more into his stride and shake of his head. Despite the great bulk of his new body and the mass of muscle that covered him from neck to calf, it did not seem that he was built for stamina. Dimly, he tried to remember if that was part of Alistar's build, but, frankly, he didn't have it in himself to care. It wasn't something that was going to matter there, because any rules that he had been playing by previously were changed forever.

A moderate wooden bridge, something that looked actually able to support the mountain of muscle that had become his body, loomed over the river and, without thinking too much about it, he strode up into the middle with a sharp clip-clop of cloven hooves. It was clearer there, the water reflective: he could check out –

“Yaaaarrrrgggghhhh!"

He howled as the bridge gave way, the wood splintering with a crack that lanced through the air like lightning, though he was going down – down, down, down. Into the water with a splash that sent up a wave of water, covering his head, dunking him under. He heaved and splashed, water streaming from him, wetting down his hair and his beard to his body, heaving for breath, bellowing in raw, unadulterated rage.

“Nnnnggghhhhooooooo!"

The bellow ripped from him as he scrambled to his feet, though, thankfully for him as he tried to bundle up his rage, it was not as deep as expected. He had only gotten a dunking because he'd slipped off his feet when he had crashed down into the water, but was more himself again as he stood and shook it off.

“Grrrr…"

He growled, but was at least thankful that he had not hurt himself when he had crashed down, for his strong legs had prevented him from coming to too much harm. Even if the river had been deeper with a stronger flow of water, there was a strong part of him that expected that he would have been able to stop himself from drifting away with the current, dragged down to the ocean at the mouth of the river.

He breathed heavily, but it was still good to know that he was strong enough to protect himself as he shook off the water from his hide and his hair, muttering under his breath. He was not as quiet about as he might have liked though.

“Stupid body, too heavy to even cross a bridge," he grunted, staggering out of the water. “How can anything…have this much muscle?"

It felt more natural for his body to clamber out, though the top half of his body would prove to be slower to dry than the bottom. His hooves were still strong and had not taken any damage, for which he was glad, even managing to lean on a rocky, however shaky he was, to check the underside. They were not like horse hooves at all with that weird triangle in the middle (he only knew that from some of the older video games he had played when he'd paid a bit more attention to the character models) but cloven, a smooth round to the underside, no cracks to be seen.

He growled, making sure he checked himself over, drying off, ruffling his hand through his mane of hair. It didn't seem like it was taking long to dry, which made him feel a little bit better. And walking through the water after getting dunked had washed off most of him too, leaving him feeling a little fresher, if not at all more human, than he had been before. He did not realise just what a luxury it was to be clean!

“Well… Guess nothing is stopping me from looking now."

Instead of standing on the bridge, which was wrecked to say the very least of it, he stood at the bank, a little higher up, peering down into the water. He blinked rather owlishly, as if he did not recognise what he was looking at, although he had seen the character more than enough, even if in a different form, on his computer screen.

Alistar. The big, purple bull with the blue mane of hair. It was spiky from the water, however quickly it was drying, and there was even a ropey, thick tail behind him that he had not paid due mind to before. Only when he knew what his body was and what he was looking at could he see all the fine details.

He started at the hooves, though he felt that they were one of the things that he had gotten to see most clearly so far, testing his weight on them, sensing how he sank down, just a little, into the ground as he shifted his weight. That was strange, interesting, but there was the ropey, thickly muscled strength of his calves too, all the way up to his knee. But…there was something new there, a little bit of a hock at the back, pointed up as if he was standing on his toes, but, honestly, he didn't know what it was called when it came to bulls and cows.

Weird…

_ _

It was what he had to work with, however, even if he didn't fully know the name of it, moving his attention up his legs, in the shaky river reflection, a ripple or two breaking up his visage. He tensed his quads and his hamstrings, running through the names of the muscles in his head without thinking of it, though it was only the major ones. That seemed to be all that Alistar knew and he didn't mind that either.

He skipped over his crotch, grunting and shaking his head, the belt tight around him, so he adjusted it slightly so that it felt more comfortable. The muscle of his pecs dominated his torso, a little thicker around his belly, connected to his shoulders, through the interwoven web of tissue and fascia. That was a word that he had learned from his old life, though he wasn't all that sure what benefit knowing vaguely about fascia would be in that world, which still…well… It was the League of Legends world, wasn't it? But it wasn't somewhere that he had ever been in the games, which did complicate matters there.

His arms had been taken in before, but he paused, clenching his fists, one after the other, feeling the difference, how his right arm was a little stronger than the left, the small differences in the muscling of him having a notable effect. Even a muscled creature, like the bulk of a beast that Alistar was, had to be lopsided in some way too, for he was not perfect.

Leo snorted. Yeah, like hell he'd ever thought Alistar was perfect!

The features of his face did fascinate him, crudely. There were wrinkles in his snout that he had not noticed before, the wide, flaring nostrils that sucked in air. Even his hair was sticking up, fluttering with tiny breaths of breeze, connected to him and yet almost a separate entity too, for he had no musculature that could control the flick of hair back and forth. Only his tail, a rough, scraggy tuft at the base, flicking back and forth, a snort warbling from his nose.

“Hell…"

He turned back and forth, posing, flexing, testing out just how his muscles worked, arms on either side of his head, shocked by the range of motion there was in flexing and contracting those muscles. That was so strange, though he had never seen anything like that before, even if heavily muscled bodies were not really his thing, not something he had ever given a second glance before. And yet the ease of movement, despite the weight of him, the raw strength and the power – that was something very much that Leo could not help but be impressed by.

“Whoa…"

The single-word grunt was interesting and he played with the sound, rolling it around his mouth as he pressed it out. It was hot, in a way, when it was a body that he was controlling, though he appreciated too not having to spend annoying months upon months (probably a lot longer than that, but he didn't have much of a concept of time there) building such a figure. To reap the benefits of it and to have that power and energy was something else indeed as he ran his hands down his chest to his waist, where it tried to taper in, but, due to the bulk of him, did not pull in all that much to his hips. It was just the way his body was.

If he had that body too…shouldn't he fully explore it? He grunted, shaking his head, though the curiosity, once raised, was not something at all that he could easily quell…

He had not paid attention to that part of him before, not then, but a lot before he had been transformed, what covered his crotch, what hid something that, really, he might have wanted to pay due mind to prior. Maybe it was frightening, maybe Leo didn't even know what would be different. Hell, what if he didn't have anything between his legs at all and he was practically null as a video game character? He gulped noisily. While Leo had been so focused on the changes of his body, the thick muscle and what caught his attention first and foremost when he looked at his reflection, there were other things at play.

There was a weird sort of loincloth thing covering his hips, but it did not do all that much to hide away his shaft, which hung between his legs. He nipped at the inside of his cheek, grunting softly. How had he missed that before? Like the rest of him, it was a thick, full length and he grunted, shaking his head, but he supposed that his attention, quite fairly, had been elsewhere before.

But to have balls that large… Sure, they suited the size of his new body, but the difference there was that they were a good four times larger than what he had boasted before. Even the weight of his nuts swinging back and forth made him want to pay even more attention to that part of his body before, groaning deep in the back of his throat.

“Fuck…"

It was crude to swear and Alistar did not swear, but, well…he was also no more than a character in a video game and the rules that had been in play there were no longer in play for Leo in Alistar's body. That was something he had to take into account too as a weird grin pulled at his lips, the sort of smile that did not belong there on a muzzle or even a snout. He twisted, pulling away his loincloth thing to look at his arse, swinging his tail back and forth, the thick muscle, not a spare ounce of fat back there. It was wrong and yet he explored, his hand between his legs as he sat back on the ground, his legs spread so that he could reach everything.

He growled, nostrils fluttering, licking his lips as his cock swelled to attention. He was aroused, too much so, by his new body, but it felt right in a way too as he groped his thick shaft. His fingers would never have fit all the way around it if he had been human, but he didn't have human hands and he had a much better grip as a bull-thing, even if he had never wanted to be Alistar. Or maybe he was getting a kind of grudging respect for him, sliding his hand up and down his rapidly thickening, engorging hard-on, the skin a purple-grey hue that matched up nicely with his fur. It could have been the colour of his skin all over beneath his coat of hair, but he wasn't interested in finding that out at that moment. No… He had something far more enticing in mind.

Masturbation. Yeah, sure, he'd jacked off before as a guy, but there was something more enticing to doing it as a bull, of feeling every throb of his cock so vividly and clearly in his hand. He inhaled deeply, licking his lips, pre-cum bubbling and pooling at the tip of his cock. The skin moved slightly along his length, but the glands at the head of his cock were defined, something that could have been a human's cock, but, well, a human cock that had come from a fantasy world. The same but different, though the head was a deeper shade of purple, making the pre-cum even more obvious, need coursing through him with every pulse of blood that raged through his body.

He needed to cum, the need overpowering, as if he was in the middle of a rage again, giving into the anger that, probably due to the alchemy and some shit in his backstory, consumed Alistar. In hindsight, it might have been much better for Leo to have looked into Alistar's history when he had been a man, but, alas, there was no time to go back to that part of his life. He could want to know more about Alistar, all so he could understand the bull better and get through things better in that world, but the time for that had long since passed.

Better to sink into the moment, to let that raw sense of lustful brutality pour through him. His cock ached and throbbed and drooled and he smeared that pre-cum down the length of his cock, the slickness adding another touch of sensation that he had not before anticipated being lusciously present.

It was different, so different. Sure, Leo was no virgin, but it all felt so new to him, as if he was looking at sex in a new light for the very first time – and that was still just jacking off on his own! What would having sex with a dick that big and that powerful do for him?

He moaned, rolling his head back, relishing, somehow, even in the weight of his arms. That was delicious, so very much so, panting, heaving, grunting, giving in to feral need and pleasure. It was something that Leo could never have experienced as a man, that was quite certain, but he wanted more, hungry for it, greedy for it.

Maybe that all was part of Alistar too…but he didn't have to care about that. He didn't have to care about anything at all as he stroked his length, feeling every pulse and every throb, the spill of his pre-cum even hot.

“Ah… Fuck…"

He could not help but swear, shaking his head, shoulders rounding as he hunched forward. He wanted more, so much more, muscles tightening across his stomach – abs? Did he have abs under there? Well, of course, he did, but he was not a build that showed off the abs, not that that mattered, head spinning and tongue pushing out.

He groaned deeply, his hand moving more and more quickly up and down the throbbing length of his meat, forgetting where he was, that he was out in the open with bright sunshine, even if grey clouds were brooding in the not-so-far distance. They did not seem to be threatening rain at least, so he wasn't going to have to work out just how wet fur felt that day, losing himself in sensation.

Leo's huge balls throbbed and churned, a strange sensation that he was at least able to put words to. He'd felt some tightness and driving need in his nuts before, as a man, but everything was heightened tenfold as Alistar, as if everything had been drawn into such stark definition that it could not help but be highlighted right then and there.

He swore again, the sound of his hand moving on his cock filling the air, along with his deep, masculine grunts and groans, dominating as he pleasured himself. He could take up that space, holding it for his own as he shook his head, more comfortable with the weight of his horns, even if Leo hardly thought that he would ever be comfortable with that.

He didn't know whether to pay attention to what was happening around him or to focus on his body, his own excitement getting the better of him. There was just so much muscle on his body and, even though he had never, quite honestly, been a fan of Alistar in any way at all, he did not feel that he could help himself, lust coursing through him, twisting and roiling. It curled around the core of his being, dragging up deep, dark desires that had never seen the light of day. And Leo found himself leaning ever so hungrily into the, grunting and panting, his tail flicking back and forth.

It was needed, so much so, the mammoth press of his cock shoving his loincloth thing up and out of the way, though Leo did not think a name for it was of any importance as he moaned and grunted – just like a bull. Was Alistar a minotaur, technically? Oh, what the fuck did it even matter, because he was the bull, he was Alistar – and he was going to have his orgasm one way or the other.

He needed it too much, heaving, grunting and panting, the solid weight of his new body exciting him in a way that he had never thought could be possible. And yet even being present in Alistar's body made him want it even more, all for the fact that it was him that bore the muscle, it was him that could hold the power of his cock in his very own hand.

The massive length of his member throbbed and drooled pre-cum, but he wanted it still, pressing on, not thinking of the consequences. Not that the consequences were bad at all, not as he pressed on, leaning forward as he bellowed and, finally, orgasm overwhelmed him.

There was no warning to it, just a rush and a build-up that was over in a second, heat flaring through him, his nostrils blowing out with breath. And then it was upon him, flaring through, burning up from the inside out as the heat from within pooled in his nuts and exploded down the hot, throbbing length of his cock. Never had Leo felt as masculine as he did in that moment, grunting and heaving wetly, licking his lips, even letting out a willing bellow, leaning into the bull that, one way or the other, he had to accept that he was.

For there was no denying it, not as virile ropes of cum – shocking in the sheer volume – exploded from him, pouring down the length of his cock, drooling and dripping his previously clean flesh. The weight of the loincloth, from the water, still hung heavily around him but he couldn't find it in himself to care as he snorted and stomped, curling forward as if to hunch, though it only felt more natural for his head to rest there, to take up a forward position.

It may have been explosive, but an orgasm, not even for a bull, was not meant to last forever, overly sensitive for every part of his body as his attention concentrated on his shaft, how the throbbing length swiftly grew too sensitive. He hissed through his teeth, grunting heavily, and let it go, bobbing down between his splayed legs to spend the last spurts into the ground. In a way, the cream was wasted, but it was soaked up rapidly, at least, by the soil, filtering through the grass as if it had never come in the first place. And yet the vile, thick, rancid aroma of bull remained, his heady musk that was so much more than earthen and came with the sharp tang and spice of an animal.

He shuddered, glancing around himself guiltily, covering up his softening cock again, though Leo didn't know whether he had gone too far, doing that out in the open, or if everyone there would have been far too scared of Alistar anyway to give much of a damn about what he was doing.

“Agh… Damn it… Hehe…"

He rubbed the back of his neck, only a little sheepish, moving away from the spot where he had spent his load, though Leo swore that the scent followed him, as if it was clinging to him, sinking into his hide. Just in time too, even if he could not duck into the river to hide that aroma, for the tread of clawed feet, lighter than his, came over a rise in the hill, drawing his attention.

Continued in part three of three…