FSE

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Descending slowly, Michael hunched over, scanning around; behind him, he heard the clatter of Jack's feet-claws striking the stones. As Jack had noted, no rat-men - nor anything else - sprung out at them. One possible reason for this became apparent when he reached the bottom of the stairs: there was a smallish chamber at the bottom, walled on all sides bar two. One of the two exceptions was one of the "members doors" to the left, practically indistinguishable from the other walls aside from the gilded lock; the other was a heavy, somewhat more standard, dungeon door at the far right end.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Michael turned to Jack. "Would you like to wait here a bit?" Michael inquired.

Jack shrugged, "I could rest, I suppose." Dropping his gear beside him, Jack dropped down at the base of the stairs, plopping down against one of the walls.

Michael, too, sat on the steps; leaning up against the wall opposite to Jack, he sunk down tiredly, closing his eyes. "Are you still, uh, feeling aroused?" Michael asked, yawning.

He couldn't see Jack's reaction, but Michael felt the silence. After a while, Jack countered, "Does it matter?"

"I just think it sucks, you know," Michael rambled. "I mean, I bet you came here maybe hoping you'd lose your virginity to some nice - or at least hot - guy, and you get, well, the weirdness. And if you do, then I don't think you'd like it to be with some rat guy you don't know."

Another pause, and Jack replied, "So, what are you saying?"

"Maybe - if we're careful - I could give you a hand-job or something?" Michael offered.

"I'd really rather not get a pity wank," Jack replied, grunting in irritation.

Michael countered, his voice slowing, "No... well, I mean... you're a nice guy... it seems mean if your first..."

Michael jerked awake to the sound of Jack swearing and some warm liquid running over his feet. "Oh shit, sorry, sorry, sorry!" Michael's senses, after a few moments of unclarity, started to register things: Jack in the corner of the room facing the far wall, his head turned back with a look of pained embarrassment on his face; a large puddle of warm, yellow liquid trickling spreading underneath his feet; a very pungent odor of concentrated urine; a continual pattering as Jack's piss evacuated his body, cascading down the wall and expanding the pool around both their feet.

"I'm so sorry!" Jack apologized, "I- I didn't think I'd piss this much!"

Raising his feet off and giving them a short shake, Michael yawned, then chuckled, "No lasting harm. How long was I out?"

"A while," Jack informed, turning back as the stream started to die down. "I drank my water - well, yours but I swapped them over since my, uh, mouth got on the other one."

Staring at the large, cooling puddle of urine, Michael snorted, "Well, obviously."

"I stayed awake," Jack continued, "and I, uh, entertained myself so hopefully I should be able to handle myself for a little while longer. Then I went up and washed off with the fountain - I had a look through the door, there's a fountain just out there, but it's kind of busted - then came back here." He shuddered, "Once I'd cleaned off, I started to focus a bit more. I- I smelled something bad and got my ass back in here."

"Something bad?" Michael inquired.

Jack nodded, "Yeah; I think it's why there's no rat-men down here. I might have noticed it earlier, but..." He sighed, and explained, "Sorry for being so weird, I really didn't think I could get so turned on by... by them. It was so strong."

Michael smiled, "It's fine."

Jack continued, "And thanks for your offer, but I'd really rather not risk it in this 'condition'. Also, I'd feel weird if you just did it to me."

Michael replied, "Fair enough."

Jack added, "The smell, it really unnerves me. I don't know why, though."

Michael shrugged, "We'll probably find out later, unfortunately."

Jack shuddered, "Yeah."

Michael, looking over at his companion, noted, "You look a bit less rat-mannish. I mean, it's hard to tell, but you do look a little more human." To him, Jack's hands appeared less claw-like, his body less fuzzy, tail a bit shorter, and muzzle also somewhat shorter. Everything just seemed - even if it was just a little bit - more human and less rodent.

"Oh?" asked Jack, smiling slightly.

"Yeah," Michael reinforced. He stretched his sore body; not intending to fall asleep - at least leaning against the wall - his neck felt stiff and the arm, which had pressed against the wall, tingled and felt numb. "The fountain's through the door, right?"

"Yeah," Jack nodded, quickly handing Michael the torch before slipping his backpack back on. "Just wait and I'll go with you."

"Sure," Michael said, carrying his own backpack. Tensing his leg muscles, he jumped over the puddle Jack's piss. Landing somewhat awkwardly, he braced against the far wall and ordered, "Toss the poles over here." Walking over to the door, Michael rubbed his neck before pulling on the round metal handle.

Carefully peering out into the darkening passage, he heard a splash and a pair of clattering; backing up, Michael eyed the doorway. Crouching down, he felt for the poles; he felt a slight splattering of liquid against his leg, as Jack appeared beside him.

"The fountain's to the right," Jack noted, offering out the torch. "I'll stand in the doorway; then if anything comes by, I might be able to catch them unawares if they head straight for the torch."

Michael nodded, "Good idea. I shouldn't be long, just need to wake myself up a bit more."

"I figured it was something like that, yeah," Jack said, flicking his tail; small droplets flew against the wall off of the end, slowly trailing down the stones. "I think I may need to have a wash as well, after you're done," he added.

Taking the torch, Michael handed Jack back one of the poles, before waving the burning end of the torch in front of him. Nervous and wary, he stepped out, turning quickly from right to left, before backing up.

Michael found the fountain to his left; as Jack had said, it was broken - or at least non-functional - as the flow of fresh water had stopped. Fortunately, either the fountain was designed to keep a certain level of water or the fountain's drain had also been disabled, so it contained a decent level of water. While Michael didn't know much about fountains or dungeons, one summer he'd worked as a pool boy, and so could tell the fountain hadn't been broken for too long; especially in these apparently primitive surroundings, all sorts of stuff would have gotten into - and grown - in stagnant water.

Tiptoeing in the fountain, Michael forced the torch handle into the fountainhead. When it seemed to stand up without too much fiddling on his behalf, Michael scooped up a handful of water and splashed it over his face. Rubbing his wet hands over his face, Michael shifted his neck from side to side. "Once this is done, I'm going to need a massage," he thought. Splashing about, Michael splashed water into the crevices of his body that were starting to get sweaty and rank: his armpits, and on a wide stretch between his legs, from under his scrotum to where his back separated into his butt cheeks. Giving his hands a rinse, Michael stepped dripping from the fountain and returned to where Jack stood in the gloom. "Your turn," he replied, "I put the torch in the top of the fountain."

"Alright," Jack nodded, heading towards the light. Squeezing against the doorway, Michael waited for Jack to pass through before sliding over to the other side, pressing himself against the side, his eyes staring through the doorway. Off slightly to the right, Michael heard splashing; he bunched his shoulders, trying to get rid of the stubborn stiffness in his shoulders.

A few moments later, Michael heard thumping, cursing and grunting from around the fountain. Then a heavy splash, and more cursing and grunting. Freezing in place for a moment, Michael prepared to step out before the torchlight glowed brighter and a dripping, naked Jack stomped around the corner, looking pissed off.

"Maybe don't wedge it in so tightly next time," Jack grumbled. Michael nodded, then snorted into laughter. Jack returned with a withering glare, grumbling, "It's not that funny." Handing the torch over to Michael, Jack said, "Just for that, you're still going first."

Glancing downwards, Michael mentioned, "Hey, uh, I've still got your loincloth if you want it back..."

Jack shook his head, adding, "Not really much point now. Uh, unless you want me to put it on, that is."

Holding his pole-holding hand up, Michael dismissed, "Oh no, do what you like. I've seen everything already."

Jack smiled evilly - which in the light seemed to emphasize the rodent side of his features - and replied with a gentle shove, "Then quit talking about my junk and stop delaying. You're still going first."

Michael sighed, walking past a still-unpleasantly-grinning Jack and a members door in the opposite corner from the fountain, turning to the left. A flickering glint to the left caught his attention, and he turned to look.

"Hey, there's a mirror here!" Michael exclaimed. The left wall had a large mirror hanging off of a heavy iron spike struck into the wall. Moving in front of the mirror, Michael gestured, "You know about this dungeon stuff. What's up with the mirrors?"

Jack examined the mirror: first checking behind the mirror by pressing flat against the wall, he then proceeded to run his hands over the frame, then the mirror and even the iron spike. "I... I don't know," he admitted finally, "I don't see anything about this that tells me it's anything but a normal mirror. It's not even a two-way mirror like that other one was. But then, what's it doing here?"

"Should we break it or take it down or something?" Michael suggested.

Jack disagreed, "I don't think so, at least until we know what it's for. If we smash it, then at the very least we'll risk getting glass everywhere and with no shoes that's just asking for trouble. A mirror that big will be hard to carry, even with the two of us, especially if we need to fight something off or have to climb a rope or something."

Michael nodded, appreciating the logic of Jack's words. "So we, what, ignore it?"

Jack shrugged, "Well, remember that there was one here: if we need it for a puzzle or something we should be able to come back and get it. If we get really stuck we can smash it or whatever. After you."

Turning away from the mirror, Michael headed off down the passageway, with Jack following. This floor seemed more spaced-out to Michael than the other one had been; even though they'd just arrived, this seemed to have been the longest passage they'd encountered so far. The simple walking made the two of them complacent.

Until Michael spotted the yellow eyes glowing up ahead, peering out of the darkness.

Freezing in his tracks, Michael was nearly pushed over when Jack walked into him, the latter grunting in surprise. "I thought I saw something," whispered Michael, turning his head slightly.

Jack peered ahead. "What?" he whispered back.

Michael pointed to his own eyes, elaborating, "Yellow eyes. In the dark." Looking forward, though, he noticed the eyes had disappeared.

Jack scanned forward, breathing heavily. Michael felt Jack's breath brush the hairs on the back of his neck. "I don't see anything," Jack replied quietly.

Reluctantly, Michael advanced, gripping tightly onto the end of the torch. When the eyes appeared again, this time he shouted, "There! See!" But again, they seemed to disappear when they both stopped and looked.

"You- you're not bullshitting, are you?" asked Jack, who seemed to be shaking slightly.

"No!" Michael answered, pausing before adding the admission, "I might be seeing things, I guess..." Their advance started again, now at a crawling pace.

Something fell against Michael's shoulder, and he yelped. Realizing it was just Jack's hand, he relaxed slightly, until he turned and saw Jack trembling. Pointing behind them, Jack stammered, "Th-th-there's one be-behind us!"

Michael looked over, but just as before the eyes seemed to disappear once they'd been seen.

Jack gripped his pole even more tightly, whispering, "You keep a look out forward, I'll watch our back." Turning around, Jack pressed backwards; Michael felt his backpack press hard into his back, part near the base of Jack's tail sliding awkwardly between his legs. Fear and caution took precedence, however, and he remained silent, instead slowly edging forwards.

Michael saw no eyes again from up ahead. When he reached the end of the passage, he sighed in relief; another two mirrors, twin copies of the one they'd seen earlier, appeared on the walls, hanging from identical spikes. The light rebounded off both their surfaces; looking into them, Michael noticed with a start just how dirty he seemed.

"It's just mirrors," he sighed, tapping Jack on the side with his staff. "It might just have been the torchlight reflecting off them."

Jack asked, "Are you sure? Wouldn't they have-" Suddenly Jack yelled, trying to concurrently back up down the corridor and drag Michael with him; all that happened was Jack, tail entwined around Michael's leg, tripped over, with Michael falling on top of him and dropping both torch and pole. However, Michael managed to get a good look at the creature Jack had been trying to drag them both away from.

The large black cat-man - Michael guessed it sort of looked like a puma or whatever that black jungle cat was called - snarled and leaped at the pair, its yellow eyes focused. Jack tried scrambling out from under him - them, once the cat-creature had landed - but the combined weight squashed him down again.

Michael screamed as the creature's claws dug into his shoulders, being raked down as Jack tried again to escape from underneath them. Flailing helplessly with his arms, Michael tried to kick at the thing, whose muzzle snarled; hot saliva dripped over Michael's face, slipping down into his opened, screaming mouth. He felt something hairy and snake-like - "Its tail?" he wondered - wrapping around his raised leg, holding it in place. Another - and now Michael knew they couldn't be tails, unless the thing had two of them, wrapped around his other leg.

Jack squeezed out from underneath them; Michael hit the ground hard, and he yelped again. His limbs pinned down or entangled and upraised, Michael thrashed about, hoping to at least partially escape from the cat-man. The torch, still lit, made his right side uncomfortably hot; he moved his arm about slowly, hoping to grab onto it slightly.

With a crazed war-cry, Jack - having regained his pole - smashed it down full force on the creature's head, its muzzle opened and reaching down to bite into Michael's flesh. The cat-man, suddenly dazed, raised one clawed hand off of Michael and swiped at Jack. With his free limb, Michael reached over for the torch; his hand grazing against the creature's undersides changed his idea. Fumbling between the creature's legs, Michael grabbed on to what he hoped was its dangling privates and squeezed his fist around them.

Mewling in pain, the creature's head smashed into the wall when Jack grabbed its open muzzle and slammed it hard to the side. Crawling backwards, the creature hissed menacingly as it backed into the corner. Michael felt his legs slowly being released, as the creature's tentacles - Michael could see them clearly now, curling down around its torso from behind its back - twisted free. Jack, pole held forth like a lance, ran at the creature.

The cat-man's eyes shifted to the side, and it promptly disappeared.

Jack, propelled forward by momentum, crashed hard into the wall, cracking the mirror and breaking his pole before dropping to the ground himself.

Breathing heavily, Michael yelled in pain; his wounds seemed to burn, the heat spreading around to the rest of his body. His eyes closed involuntarily for a moment; when they opened again, through his pained tears his saw patches of black fur spreading over his body, each hair pinpricking its way through his bruised, heated skin.

His muscles spasmed as he tried to roll on his side; his face felt swollen, his jaw aching. Running his tongue along the tips of his teeth, he tasted blood dripping from his gums. Curling into the fetal position, Michael felt the tips of his fingers thicken and pulse, blood pushing up from under his nails as well.

Nostrils flared, Michael breathed in, his nose pushing slightly outward as a short, intermediary muzzle formed; running his tongue against his teeth now accidentally cut it as it encountered new sharpened fangs. Screaming again, a disturbingly feline scream burst out.

Pulsating flesh throbbed in several areas: near both his shoulders, near the base of his spine, the tips of his fingers and toes, and even his genitals. Skin bunching and tearing, two short, furry nubs burst out of his shoulders; between his legs, a longer tail cracked open his skin. Long, white claws extended from his thickened digits; his finger claws digging into his own flesh. His genitals throbbed; becoming erect, his penis swelled as its tip became pointed, prickling unpleasantly as the base was swallowed up into a furry sheath.

Tears poured down Michael's face as his body's transformations seemed to slow down; the pain taking longer to abate than the noticeable changes he saw and felt over his body. Eventually, he uncurled, twisting into a sitting position. Yelping, he scooted around on his but cheeks before eventually getting into a position comfortable for both him and his new tail.

Still feeling short of breath, Michael wheezed as he looked around; the cat-creature that he guessed had infected him, had not returned. Jack was propped up back further along the corridor, curled up and staring at him. He seemed to have gotten worse after the encounter: longer tail - nearly as long as what Michael could remember from the other rat-men - with larger ears and muzzle, and hardly any visible human skin.

Michael felt his stomach rumbled, and wondered how long it had been since he'd eaten or drank something.

"Michael?" Jack asked reluctantly, his voice strained and squeaky. He coughed, then repeated, "Michael?" It hadn't improved the squeakiness, and his furry cheeks sagged.

"Yeah?" Michael noted his voice too, seemed hoarse, but his was instead tingled with a deeper growling quality. "I'm still me," he added, before he too felt upset.

"Oh thank god," Jack mumbled. He stood up; Michael got a full face of Jack's other, more recent, transformation: a heavy set of testicles hanging between his sturdy, round legs, and a long sheath curling upwards. Lumbering closer, his legs apparently bruised, Jack added, "How are you feeling?"

"Not great," Michael groaned. "It's different when it's you. I mean, I didn't realize how painful it was."

"You couldn't have known," Jack murmured, tentatively reaching out to touch Michael on the shoulder. "It's not as if this stuff is common knowledge."

"What... what was it?" Michael inquired. "It had tails or tentacles or something growing out of its shoulder; no wild cats I know have that!"

"I think," Jack mused, "that it's supposed to be a displacer beast, or something similar."

"Displacer beast," Michael repeated, looking over his body.

"Yeah," Jack nodded, "well, like I said, something like that. They're supposed to have multiple limbs, and not be part human. Well, at least in Dungeons and Dragons they do; but then again I guess there they're tougher in game, but..." Trailing off, Jack paced off, worrying.

"What? What is it?" Michael asked. Still unused to the alterations in his voice, he didn't want to speak too much and be reminded of it, so preferred that Jack filled the silence.

"I don't know," Jack mumbled. "I mean, I'd been assuming it was contagious - that if you got bitten or something by something, that you'd turn into that thing, and worse if you got bitten more - but then I got worse too."

"You also got worse at that other fountain," Michael noted.

Jack explained, "I assumed that was because it was what made some of the rat-men turn into rat-men in the first place. I mean, if biting rat-men makes more rat-men, say, then there has to be at least one rat-man to start off with or it can't spread that way.

"Then I thought maybe the displacer beast had bit me, or scratched me, or spat at me and it got into a wound or something. But as far as I can see, I don't have any wounds. Even in that case, me becoming maybe part displacer beast would maybe make sense, but that didn't happen either."

"Does it need to make sense?" Michael asked.

Jack shrugged, "I thought it should."

Michael's stomach grumbled, and he forced himself up; standing was awkward, his legs still felt weak from both the attack - the displacer beast's tentacles had temporarily cut off circulation to his legs - and the transformation. "Where's my pack?" he asked, unsure of when he'd lost it.

"Oh," Jack exclaimed, turning. "I think it came off when I was trying to get out from underneath you, or maybe the displacer beast cut through it with its claws." Scrabbling over to the side, he bent down. A moment later he stood, holding up a torn, broken backpack that reeked of and dripped with oil. "Mine got ruined as well," he added, a guilty look on his face.

"Fuck!" Michael screamed, pounding the wall behind him with gripped fists. He ignored the pain from the claws digging into the flesh of his palms.

"Hey, hey," Jack soothed, awkwardly rubbing Michael's shoulders with his clawed hands. "It'll be alright. If this is anything like an actual game of Dee and Dee, soon while we'll be tripping over useful stuff."

"Yeah?" asked Michael.

"Well, unless it's like Tomb of Horrors..." Jack started, before catching himself and amending, "except in that case we'd have been horribly killed as soon as we'd entered." He paused, before adding, "Just forget I said that. I'll take the lead, and we'll just hope there's something ahead." Carefully tossing the backpack aside - the oily mess landing next to a similarly pile of leather, Jack wiped his hands off on the fur on his legs before picking up the surprisingly still-lit torch from where it lay on the floor, and taking one of the larger pieces of his broken pole.

Michael, bending down to retrieve his own staff, mentioned, "I was - am - hungry."

Jack grunted, the muscles in his back growing tense, "Yeah. Maybe there's some food up ahead. Maybe if we get away from this oil I'll be able to smell something."

Michael nodded, the area certainly reeked of oil; he didn't think he had that much in his backpack. Cold realization of another explanation caused his empty stomach to churn. He sighed when Jack started walking forward, and Michael followed him and the torchlight.

In the other corner of what was a U-turn they noticed a mirror - this one smashed - against the far wall. Both Jack and Michael hurried on after a brief glance at themselves in the reflective surface; neither wanted the reminder. Down the passage, Jack paused; sniffing the ground, he said, "I think someone was attacked here; there's blood everywhere."

Michael sniffed the ground too; his stomach rumbled again. Unnerved by his response, he said, "I think I can smell it too."

"Oh," Jack exclaimed, fingering at a golden lock in the wall to his left; Michael detected a hint of nervousness in his voice, and heard Jack's heart race.

"I don't think it was an attack though," Michael noted, sniffing again. "It kind of smells like steak. Maybe lamb or venison?" His stomach grumbled; this time rather audibly.

"Not rat?" Jack asked.

Michael reiterated, "No, I remember this smell; at least, I think I do."

"Well, there's none here now," Jack observed, "so should we keep moving?"

Michael replied, "Of course."

Jack strode forward. Michael watched him for a moment before starting up again. "He seems really nervous," Michael thought, absent-mindedly flexing his fingers, practicing the retraction and extension of his claws. "I guess I'm nervous too."

"No," Michael realized with a start, "I'm just hungry. And alert. Fuck, what's wrong with me?"

The terminating wall of the next long passage was another members' door - the fourth, Jack mentioned - with a mirror on the other wall; at the other corner of the mid-passage kink, there were two more mirrors.

Michael sniffed the air; his nose had alerted him to something. Pricking up his ears, he concentrated on the things he could not see but could still sense.

"I think there's another displacer beast nearby," he mentioned, "or maybe the same one as before."

"Are you sure?" Jack said, his own nose twitching with use. After a couple of seconds, he noted, "Yeah, I hear him too."

"Maybe you just smelled me?" offered Michael.

"Maybe," Jack mumbled, quivering. "He's probably smelled and heard us too."

Michael stared at the mirrors' reflective surfaces, shifting around between them, trying to spot the displacer beast up ahead. It was difficult - without illumination, the black fur blended easily in with the dark shadows - so Michael's concentration made everything else seem remote. Jack's voice and heartbeat faded out, as did his distinctly "nervous rodent with human sweat" odor; even the torchlight seemed to dim.

Suddenly, Michael was plunged into darkness; light filtered around the corner ahead, but it blocked by the hot, furry form standing in between it and him. The creature snarled, turning.

Instinctively, Michael snarled back; claws extending quickly, he raked his hand across the creatures face. It screamed in pain, raising its own hands upwards, weight dropping to prepare to pounce. From the edge of his senses, Michael heard a worried scream from around the corner.

"Michael? Michael!" Jack yelled repeatedly.

The displacer beast fell upon Michael; this time, however, Michael was prepared. Ducking down, he awkwardly rolled underneath the creature, which slapped against the mirror, knocking it off the spike, before sliding down onto the floor when the creature turned.

Michael ran towards the light, yelling, "Watch out Jack, it's behind me!" He almost physically felt the creature gaining on him. Using the mirror in front to quickly estimate the distance between them, Michael turned. Eyes swiftly passing over a surprised Jack staring back at him, he grabbed the torch, shoving it right into the creature's face.

The displacer beast screamed, scrabbling backwards, turning around. Michael pounced upon it, the buds in his shoulders writhing, the torch dropping from his hand. Landing on the creature's back, Michael swished his tail, thinking, "Turnabout is fair play, bastard!" as he pinned the creature down. Pressed hard against the muscular back of the displacer beast, Michael felt a surge of blood racing around his body as the creature squirmed below him. Sliding down, Michael shifted his body into a more comfortable position, his exposed cock rubbing pleasantly on the fur.

The adjustment, however, gave the creature its chance, and when the weight on its shoulders was at its weakest, it clawed itself forward. A frustrated slid to the floor as the creature dashed away. Resting his weight on his knees, Michael pounded on the stone floor with his fists.

"Um, are you done?" a voice above him asked. Michael, panting, turned over to look a rather awkward-faced Jack.

"What?" Michael snapped, standing up. His stomach growled too.

"Uh," Jack stammered, "I mean, uh, well, um..."

Realization struck hard, Michael quickly covering himself, careful to avoid sensitive areas with his detracting claws. "Oh god," he groaned embarrassedly, feeling his swollen erection. He repeated, "Oh god."

"I'll give you a minute," Jack offered. "I'll just go over there for a bit if you like, or..."

"No, uh, thanks," Michael replied, the strange feeling of his dick sliding back inside the smooth inner layer of the sheath he'd been given. "I think I've got a hold of it now. So to speak."

"You disappeared," Jack explained. "I freaked out for a moment. Why did you run off without me?"

"I didn't," Michael said, adjusting his hands to point at the loincloth and pole lying on the ground. "I don't know what happened. One moment, I was here, then suddenly I was further along in the maze."

Jack's eyes lit up, quickly babbling, "Ooh, hold on. Hold on. You were looking one of the mirrors, weren't you?"

Michael, eyes closing to think, tried to remember. "Maybe," he replied, "I can't really remember."

Jack exclaimed, "Okay then, let's try to recall that. We just got to the corner, and we - well, you - noticed the smell of the other displacer beast." Looking at Michael, he quickly corrected, "Uh, well I mean the displacer beast. Anyway, then what did you do after you smelled or heard him?"

Michael recalled, "Yeah, I think then I was looking in the mirror, the one that faced down the corridor, I thought-"

Jack interrupted, squealing with excitement, "Oh, that's so cool! You teleported!"

Michael asked, "I what?"

"Teleported, or displaced, or whatever the correct term is," Michael explained. "I guess that's how the other one, or the same one or whatever, got away from us last time. I think it has something to do with the mirrors. I don't know how it works, exactly, but apparently you can do it to. Maybe because you're partially one as well? I don't know."

Michael replied glumly, "So, I'm even more of a freak?"

Wide-mouthed, Jack countered, "Oh no, I mean that anyone - anything - teleporting is cool. This dungeon must have some really, really advanced technology in it. Like, change-the-world level stuff." Noticing he was babbling, Jack added, "Look at it this way: if we can figure out how this stuff works, then you can use this, and we might be able to get through this dungeon faster!" Looking down at the floor, he finished with a dejected grunt.

"Huh?" Michael asked, not really following what Jack was saying any more.

"You're naked," Jack hinted.

Michael, his penis now fully sheathed, raised his arms and turned around; his transformation seemed to have made his muscles stand out a little, and he thought, "That I wouldn't mind keeping if I get cured." To Jack, he gestured and noted, "Well, so are you!"

"No," Jack explained. "I mean, I thought it'd be cool: if you controlled that you could help get us through the maze. But, you're naked which - I think - means you can't take anything with you. Otherwise, you'd still have your loincloth on."

Michael, raising his hands, replied, "Sorry, this really is just too much for me to take in right now. Can we just head on now?"

"Sure," Jack replied, "sorry for babbling."

Michael shrugged, picking up the torch and walking quickly into the darkness. Jack scrambled to catch up, a leather loincloth in his free hand. "Do you want this?" he offered.

"No point, just get rid of it," Michael said. "You're not wearing one, no point in me wearing one now either. Actually, if this teleportation thing makes me lose what I'm holding, maybe you'd better hold on to the torch."

Jack took the proffered torch, the loincloth having fallen out of the same hand, mumbling, "Good idea. Should I ditch the pole as well?"

Michael shrugged, mumbling "Keep it if you want." Walking forward, Michael kept his senses on alert, his short tail flickering with annoyance. The displacer beast was no longer in the passageway immediately ahead of them. At the end, Jack paused to replace the mirror, Michael stalking further around the corner in the darkness.

Michael felt restless, wondering to himself whether it was feeling like a freak that was doing it, or whether it was needing to sate something - either his hunger or pent up lust - sometime soon. The displacer beast had had a nice, muscular body, and feeling it beneath him felt arousing. The scent, too: the musky male odor, with the promise of rutting and thrusting and squirting warm cum into each other. Michael's member slipped out as his memories and thoughts became graphic.

"Shit," Michael thought, "I guess this is what it was like for Jack earlier." Pausing as he stood in half-darkness, he wondered, "Fuck, am I wanting to hurry on because I want to get out, or because I want to try catching that displacer beast again?"

"Shit," he swore under his breath.

Standing still, Michael waited for Jack. "That's another problem," Michael muttered to himself, his stomach rumbling again. The rat scents coming off of Jack were making him hungry; he hadn't realized it until recently. "Not that I'd eat him; at least, I hope not," Michael thought, but the bestial changes they'd both undergone were combining in a natural, but unwanted, way.

Michael wondered if Jack was worrying about that too. "Poor guy," he thought, "a mouse in a den of cats."

The corridors were still rather long; this one and the next one took a fairly long time to traverse. Michael's hunger for food grew, not helped by standing so close to Jack, and his hunger for sex, while ebbing, still seemed to run through, turning his thoughts to constantly arousing things.

"It's the pheromones," Jack mentioned out of the blue.

Looking back to the double-mirrored corner they'd just passed, Michael asked, "What is?"

"The worst thing," Jack explained. "I guess a lot, or enough, horny guys pass through here; turning into animals and having sex. It just lingers everywhere. At least, that's what it was like for me on the last floor."

Michael, noting he'd become aroused again, mumbled an embarrassed, "Oh, yeah."

"Look, I mean you made the offer before to me," Jack said, "so, if you need me to, uh, help out..."

Shaking his head, Michael replied, "No thanks, I'll be alright if I can just clear my head."

"Fair enough," Jack replied.

By the time they got to the corner, both of their stomachs were rumbling audibly. As usual, there were mirrors on the walls of each corner. However, the next passage - a left turn away - was shorter than most of the others had been; the pair could just see the next corner's mirrors reflecting the light.

Jack suggested, "This might be a good place to practice your teleporting thing."

Michael questioned reluctantly, "Do you think that's a good idea?"

Jack answered, "It's too useful a thing to ignore. It would make things a lot easier: you could quickly scout ahead, or backtrack to the previous level to get more supplies. Better to see what you can and can't do before we go further on if all the passages are long."

Michael reluctantly agreed, "Fine. What do I do?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders, replying, "I'm not sure, probably concentrate on the mirror if that's what you did last time it happened."

Michael shrugged, looking into the mirror. After a few moments of nothing happening, he turned away. "It's not working," Michael replied.

Jack retorted, "Well, I don't know, you must be doing something differently. Or maybe you have limitations - you can only use it once a day or you have to want to do it or something - since you're only part displacer beast. This isn't even how displacer beasts work; in the game I mean. But then a lot of things are different to how they were in the game. I guess just try again, maybe concentrate harder."

Michael tried again, staring into the mirror, focused on the reflection. His nostrils flared. "This is stu-" he started to think, before a strong scent filled his nose. Even though these corridors seemed to drip with displacer beast scents, a fresher scent permeated closer by.

Dropping his voice to a whisper, Michael announced, "There's a displacer beast nearby."

Jack, tail twitching nervously, asked, "Where?"

Michael focused on the mirror again; more used to his new sense of smell, he could tell it was coming from further down the passage rather than behind them.

Suddenly the light had dimmed around him, and he was facing back along the passage that Jack would have said he'd teleported along. He saw Jack, smiling somewhat forcefully, still looking around nervously; he also saw the displacer beast.

The corridor U-turned; the creature appeared to be asleep or have passed out. Curled up underneath the mirrors, it breathed in and out slowly. From the scent, Michael knew it was the same one as before; it was too dark to check visually.

To Jack down the corridor, he silently raised his hands; putting them together at an angle, he rested his hands on them to mime a sleeping action. Jack, possessions in tow, tiptoed as best he could down the passageway.

Michael continued to stare at the creature, looking over its muscular, dark-furred body; when Jack came close, the light showed the fur to be quite dirty. Breathing in deeply, Michael filled himself with the creature's scent. He edged closer.

He felt Jack squeeze past him slowly, the pair holding their breath as he rounded the corner - Michael in between - then headed on further. The shadows shifted as Jack paced forward.

The displacer beast twitched and rolled; Michael and Jack froze. Stretching out, the creature turned over, only to curl back up. Heavy seconds held the two in place, before Jack risked to move again.

Now with the creature's back to them, Michael could see the firm rear muscles. Reaching down, he slowly stroked his erection, until he caught rapid light flickering out of the corner of his eye. Looking into the mirror, he noticed Jack gesturing wildly, and his stomach rumbled again. Shooing Jack away, Michael turned to look at the creature again. He imagined curling around it, pinning it down against the ground, their furry bodies entwining as he slid over the displacer beast's back, slipping his needy cock between its round cheeks. The buds in his back writhed with excitement; Michael started to reach down towards the creature.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" his mind suddenly asked irritatedly. Michael felt the blood rush to his face as his hand froze in place. He looked back into the mirror; Jack seemed to be staring back at him, also frozen in place. The displacer beast's scent seemed to weaken.

He found himself ahead of Jack, who turned in surprise before creeping forward. "Okay, I'll admit that is pretty handy," Michael thought.

The wall to his left didn't have a mirror; turning to the left, he looked down the passage which turned that way. A door was in that wall, which Michael reasoned was why there was no mirror facing that direction.

Approaching, Jack whispered, "I thought I'd lost you."

Michael, looking him over, tried to keep his stomach from growling and mumbled, "Well, sometimes it's just nice to look."

Jack stood in silence, before nodding once. "Okay," he said.

Michael, gesturing down the corridor, mentioned, "There's a door there. Maybe it's another chamber?"

Jack shrugged, walking past towards the door. "What's up with him?" Michael wondered, padding slowly after him.

Jack opened the door; it swung outwards. Immediately the pair saw the other door exposed through the archway. "It's a small room," Jack observed. "Probably a good place to rest for a while." After sniffing, he added, "I think it's mostly free of displacer beast scent."

Michael walked forward, holding onto the door as Jack entered the room and slid down, propping the pole up against the wall. A metal ring in the wall served as a good place to leave the torch, and Jack used that before sagging tiredly onto the ground.

Michael's thoughts turned to the slumbering displacer beast he'd seen earlier: the smooth muscular form and he and him interacting. Forcing himself forward, he closed the door behind him. Resting with his back against the door, Michael closed his eyes, trying to ignore the rumbling in his stomach and the lustful thoughts in his head.