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The atmosphere above Scottsdale rippled with electricity, energy pulsating behind the wind of a looming thunderhead that dominated the hemisphere of the sky not obscured by mountains and the trees of the villa's backyard. The air around Gail seemed drained of light even as the sun shone just behind the clouds, the wind picking at the yellowed pages of his book playfully, encouraging him to bring a halt to his afternoon read and return to the safety of indoors before it started storming--it was Monsoon season, and even as part of the state less affected by the torrential downpours, Gail still knew all too well the dangers of living in a higher altitude desert community this time of the year and it was never wise to tempt the fates over something as flexible as where he decided to read his books on falconry. The young collegiate hoisted himself from the reclined lawnchair, bare feet padding across the mason-brick patio and over the threshold of the sliding glass door, shutting it behind himself much to the dismay of the wind, which began rattling the entire frame of the door moments after he locked it. It was barely past midday, but still Gail was forced to turn on the nearest light fixture, as the house had abandoned the sunlight as a friend in favor of the clouds moving to block out the day--the artificial yellow light made the room seem even darker somehow, illuminating everything sufficiently but unable to pierce the all-consuming shroud that surrounded every weather event that sent the sun fleeing. Gail fanned himself with the flexible paperback book a bit before dropping it on the couch next to him. He could hear the telltale creak of wood that meant the front door was being pulled shut by his partner, Pete, obviously home early from his job at the university. Gail mused over this briefly as he did every time Pete walked through the door--if he had decided to study in Colorado instead, he never would have fallen for his professor, an aspiring pilot only a few years older than himself who had come from a wealthy family and hadn't wasted any time using that privilege to spoil Gail at every opportunity and tempt him into his parents' winter home for the last vestiges of the spring semester. It had worked out well enough; Gail was finished with his core classes for the next couple of months, leaving him alone with Pete for most of the day except when the older of the two had to speak at his aviation class. Neither of them had to worry about money, and as trapped as they were in this house in the hills, the fact that they had only each other for the rest of the summer suited them just fine. Pete's bag glided through the air across the hallway into his room a second before the man himself appeared in Gail's view, the normally groomed young professor looking a fair bit ruffled from the wind howling outside no doubt, hand patting down his hair as his shoes clicked against the patterned tile. He heaved an exaggerated sigh and unfastened the upper button of his shirt before he reached Gail, leaning in to plant a rushed kiss against his lips before just as quickly moving past him to the glass door behind him. "Hey--man, it's really picking up out there, huh?" Gail prodded at his lip with the tip of his tongue before nodding and responding. "Mm, yeah. Had to come back inside, it was getting too tough to read. Thought it was supposed to be clear today." Pete rubbed at his trimmed goatee as he stared out at the sky, a crack of gray only barely visible between the trees and the overhang of the patio just above the door. "Yeah, it was, and still is kinda--reports said this is gonna just miss us, so the satellite TV will still work after dinner at least." He paused. "What's that book you're reading, anyway?" The younger man had sidled up behind Pete, looping his arms around his neck, having to stand on his toes to do so without straining himself. "I was thinking about getting into falconry once your classes get out. Spend my days doing something productive." Pete flicked at Gail's forearm before pulling away towards the kitchen, fingers flipping on the lights in the den as he went. "Oh yeah? Gonna train them to stay the fuck out of my flight patterns when I start my test flights again next month?" "Those are the mobs, the smaller birds and ducks and stuff," Gail replied while rolling his eyes, tiptoeing behind his lover as he followed him into the kitchen. "The raptors are what chase them away from the airfields while the planes are moving--and the falconers are the ones who train them to do that in the first place. So, yes, in a really indirect way, I will be doing just that." He leaned over the counter next to Pete, flattening the book on it under his hand, glancing at the text while he spoke. "This is a really interesting book, you should take a look at it when you get the chance. It goes on and on about the history of hawks and their roles in history, but the less-boring parts--the one's I've been reading--I mean, there's an entire chapter on their relationship with humans and all these different fables and myths involving people becoming hawks; I think the book is trying to imply some kinda weird connection between the two species, which is why falconry is so successful." "Yeah, well, if you start flying around hunting rabbits once you start doing this stuff, I'm keeping you on a leash." "With birds it's called tethering," Gail said dryly. "Well, whatever it's called, I'll be tying you down and trussing you up in leather either way," came the retort. "Cute." Pete turned away from his hunt for a snack, for a moment, looking over Gail's shoulder at the book. "Read some of it to me." Gail flipped a page. "What, you wanna hear one of the stories?" "Anything, I dunno. Some of stuff you said was interesting, read some of that." Gail thumbed through until he found what he was looking for, holding it up to the light to view it better. "Well it wasn't necessarily something I read, but this part has a bunch of old diagrams and illustrations of those myths. Almost makes the book look like it was written by pagans before it gets into the true history stuff and the method teachings." Pete had bent down to pull a beer out of the fridge, still holding his keys and using the opener clipped to them to yank off the bottletop. "Sounds like something you'd read, yeah. Who did write it, anyway? Doesn't sound like something you got at the Uni library." "I did, actually--but it's a paperback, and it looks like the author's name was mostly ripped off the cover, I can only make out a few letters." He raised the book in his hand, showing off how old and warped it was to Pete's back. "It wasn't actually coded, anyway, was just lying on top of one of the book carts with no label. I'm thinking it probably belonged to someone and they lost it, then it got turned in to the library by mistake. Their loss, I guess." Pete threw the bottle back and took a few heavy drags, gulping down nearly half of the bottle's contents before coming back up for air. "I'd imagine there must be more use to falconry than just keeping pigeons out of propellers," he said, obviously not impressed by Gail's thievery. Gail stole the icy bottle from the professor and took a swig before handing it back, Pete responding to this second act of thievery with a death stare. "There is--but I just wanted an excuse to follow you to work every day, not just the days when we have class together." This brought a rather sad look to the surface of Pete's face, and he hesitated before sipping at the open brew. "Yeah--, I wanted to talk to you about that actually. About some news I got during class." The blonde young man tilted his head in a worrisome gesture. "What? What happened? You said the license renewal got cleared." "And it did, which is kind of the point," Pete said, setting the bottle down along with his keys. "They also reexamined my request to exhibit that new model in Altus. And approved it. So I'll be heading out in August for a few weeks while I do my flying between there and Texas." "...Well that's good!" Gail crossed his arms and furrowed his brow in confusion. "That's what we both...wanted to happen, isn't it?" "It is, it is yeah," Pete frowned, crossing his arms as well and leaning back against the fridge. "But it also means that when I finish the test runs and land back in Texas, I'll be going straight from there to my Fort Worth trip--so there won't be enough time to fly together like I promised before summer's up and we both have to move." Gail pondered this revelation for a moment before looking decidedly crestfallen. "Oh...yeah. Guess that's true." He maneuvered himself back out into the den and scooped his book up off the couch, playing with the frayed edges. "And you still haven't heard word on whether or not I'll be able to move in with you and your parents, huh." His voice soured at the end of this sentence, and Pete moved off the fridge to console him, wrapping an arm around Gail's shoulders and pulling him close to rest his head atop the blonde mess of hair. "I know I said we'd go flying together, and I still mean it. Just...probably won't be for a lot longer than I had planned." Gail breathed in the light whiff of barley clinging to Pete's chin hair, his finger picking at the hem of the professor's collar. "I always hoped this was something that could last longer than it actually can, and I still do--I just wish I didn't KNOW otherwise. Just seems like there's nothing that's gonna allow it as soon as summer's up." This was always a subject that dampened Pete's mood, and he reiterated his earlier statements to comfort himself more than his lover. "You also know that no matter what I'm still gonna make sure you'll have a place to stay as long as you're in school here. And I'll be back to teach classes after winter break, so we'll be able to see each other again then. But, yeah, unfortunately...doesn't look like we'll be seeing each other much for a few months." Gail didn't respond--and Pete decided for the two of them that they were done talking altogether. His thumb slid up Gail's wrist and tickled at his palm beneath the book while his other finger bumped up under the boy's chin, prompting him to look up. Their lips met unevenly, Pete kissing just below the pink of Gail's lower lip, before he took a breath and dove in--they clasped their mouths together, Pete stealing the breath from Gail's lungs and trapping his tongue in the same instant, causing his lover to go weak in his arms and sending the old falconry book falling to the floor from his limp fingers. They suffocated each other, keeping their lips sealed together, not breaking for almost a full minute until finally they both clamored for oxygen with ragged, husky breaths. In the rush, they hadn't noticed that they'd already stumbled backwards into the hall, moving blindly on rails towards the bedroom, it's door open and inviting to the two conjoined men.

Back in the den, the light drained from the room, triggered by the motion sensors detecting a lack of human presence after a few minute. Thunder could be heard rumbling off in the distance, the wind howling outside against the glass doors and windows, drenching the house in an eerie isolation that clouded every room but the bedroom the two men had occupied. On the ground in the kitchen, the decayed book had landed facedown on it's pages, crinkling and bending them beneath it's weight. Though the sliding glass door had been sealed tight and locked, the lightest of breezes seemed to ruffle the old, brittle pages, and was just powerful enough to push the book over onto it's side, the paper settling gently as if it had been deliberately placed there on the ground instead of falling in the first place.

Gail's light fingers had plucked at the buttons of Pete's shirt one by one until the garment hang open around his torso, the younger man pushing it open to reveal his toned chest and belly, the lightest dustings of dark hair cropping up towards the hem of his pants. He climbed backwards onto the bed, pulling Pete with him by his unfastened belt, the strip of leather sliding free of the waistband until it fell away just as they found themselves in place atop the mattress. Pete supported himself above Gail on all fours, looking down at the softer man with lidded eyes and hungry intent, his hand unceremoniously spreading itself directly over Gail's crotch and pushing down. Gail jerked a bit, eyes popping open as he gasped--Pete had enough of the foreplay before it ever really got started, and it was clear he was in the mood for a flavor set apart from their standard slow and tender routine. It was a different side of him that Gail hadn't gotten to see yet, but had always hoped would surface soon, finding him achingly sexy and better looking than every other guy he'd been with. He'd never shared this fact with him directly, having been so occupied with simply keeping Pete company and making him happy, but seeing him like this now sent chills through him and stirred the arousal within him until was almost boiling over. With a single quick swipe, Pete pulled away Gail's loose-fitting shirt, up over his head and tossed it away, both hands moving to unfasten his pants before the shirt even touched the ground. Gail felt obligated to assist in the matter, pulling sharply down at the waistband and letting his prize emerge: the man's boxer briefs were straining around his jutting erection, pulling the fabric around it in the most tantalizing way, accentuating it's girth at the peak while stretching over the generous length with barely a crease or loose fold of cloth in sight. Pete brought himself up onto his knees to show it off fully, hand hanging limp at his sides, obscured by the unbuttoned shirt that had fallen from his shoulders. "C'mere." The flat statement was enough to win Gail over, the young man leaning up as well, one hand cupping the entire package firmly from below while the other slipped a finger beneath the elastic band to begin stripping away the final barrier between him and his lover. Inch by inch of his inviting flesh was revealed, complimented by his neatly trimmed dark bush, which sent a wave of warm scent straight across Gail's nostrils until finally the full extent of Pete's arousal bobbed into view, free of it's restraints. The blunted rod stood proud mere inches from Gail's face, and he couldn't help himself--he pressed his nose directly into it, breathing in that sexy perfume of natural male musk, the smell of need and desire clinging to the hot, fleshy pillar. He inhaled deep, getting high off the scent, and looked up to the bigger man with that same look of hunger in his eyes. Looking down at his ward in such a submissive posture--admiring his rock-hard tool, a rogue lock of blonde hair falling over his eyes, which seemed to be pleading up to him--it ignited a roaring fire deep within Pete, angry satisfaction welling in his chest, and a fierce dominance flashed behind his dark eyes so fervent that it almost turned them yellow for a moment. This afternoon, just this once, he was not making love to his partner. He was going to fuck this kid, and fuck him hard, make him feel dirty and lowly for his pleasure. The bare skin of Gail's chest was pale, soft, almost womanly--and Pete's instincts railed at the sight, suddenly wishing he was staring down at his back instead. "Get on your belly." Gail's pursed lips kissed lovingly at his lover's shaft--no, his cock--and he nodded like the obedient boy he was, pushing back onto his elbows before rolling himself over, laying his face onto the pillow behind him so he could still look back over his shoulder. Pete reached down to knead his fingers over his shoulders, grinning inwardly, the sight of Gail's back facing him making his hands clench and tingle--there was nothing particularly odd about any of this, as apart from the norm as it was for the two of them to be behaving in this fashion...and yet it all seemed so surreal, a calm before the storm settling over both of them, as if the storm over the mountains outside had manifested within them. It felt good, no matter what, and that's all Pete could think or even care about. His eyes traveled down over the supple curves of Gail's ass, perfectly supported by the tight jeans he was still wearing, and the sight of clothing suddenly make Pete angry. Very, very angry. He wanted to claw at the denim, rip it away, the offensive layer of blue obscuring his property from his watchful eyes--and then, in a blinding instant of chaos, suddenly it was gone. He shook his head to clear it, looking down at Gail's naked rear, fragments of blue jean hanging from his fingers while the rest of the pant leggings lay in tatters on either side of him. "Oh my God, Pete...!" Gail breathed fearfully, his eyes open as he looked back down at himself in confusion. As equally perturbed by the outburst as Pete was, seeing Gail rising from the bed beneath him made him almost just as angry, and with a suppressed growl he pushed him back into the sheets roughly and descended on him. He hunched down over the young man, as if protecting him from the view of watchful eyes, as well as keeping him firmly in place to prevent any kind of escape. Gail was HIS now. His property. And he would suffer no resistance to that fact. The fire in his chest was quickly taking root somewhere else, somewhere much more explicit--Pete's loins were aflame with those same primal instincts, his hips guiding him down until his quivering pole was pressing right against that luscious crevice his prize of a boy had to offer. He savored this moment only briefly, the feeling of those soft cheeks tugging the flesh of his rod between them as his hips rocked back and forth, before purpose caught up with him again and his body surged with energy. His claws (claws?) pried that cavern of young flesh open, and he pushed down, easing himself into position until the panicked gasps and clenching fists of his lover indicated that he'd found his mark--and, with no warning or ceremony, he simply slid in even without the help of lube. Gail had been made familiar time and time again with Pete's form, and even as tight as it was, Pete knew within seconds it would be no trouble. Those lovely muscles rippled and clenched over his shapely member as it wormed it's way in deep, and the sounds of unrequited pleasure that Gail made were beginning to drive Pete mad. He sat there for a moment, relishing the heat and the constricting grasp on his cock, and staring down at his partner he wondered vaguely what he would look like with a face covered in feathers. This fleeting image sent shivers of cold through Pete, his skin crawling with goosebumps, and he suddenly realized just how naked he really was. He was breathing heavily, contemplating on whether or not he should cover the two of them with a blanket before proceeding, and his hesitation didn't go unnoticed. "Why'd you stop...c'mon, don't..." Gail whined, his eyes squeezed shut as he moaned into the pillow. And just like that, the situation began to resolve itself. The flesh of Pete's wrists itched like mad for a moment before the skin itself tore apart--or, rather, appeared to do so, as it had simply disappeared beneath a layer of feathers that had burst out into the air as if they'd always been burrowed just beneath the surface. The downy plumage spiraled down his forearm, Pete admiring his new warmth-giving gauntlets while the skin above them cracked and shriveled, darkening into a pattern of scales that trapped his fingers beneath him. Before he was allowed the chance to watch the spreading travel up his arm, though, an ache took hold within his skull, his eyes seeing spots of dark and light, and then things went silent. His mouth opened wide, eyes closing, and a low growl stirred at the bottom of his lungs before rising, becoming something louder, more terrifying--and the air passing through his chest became a screech, one that powered through the walls of his anatomy and took with it his face, tugging the muscle and dermis and bone until it bent and molded itself into the visage of something much more predatory than his formerly soft human features. The feathers had reached his neck by now, wrapping his shoulders in that same comforting warmth like a shawl, and Pete's new beak clacked and cracked itself into proper alignment with the rest of his head, which had easily beveled out in shape and size to match the proportions of his avian maw. He blinked a few times, vision still hazy, and the iris began to dissipate into the whites of his eyes as filoplumes sprouted around his ocular cavities. His bony beak filled with color, a deep yellow finish ending in a black stopper at the hook, and Pete opened his amber eyes to look down his new face for the first time. Gail had been watching him the whole time, and his human face suddenly looked so alien and cryptic to Pete. Had his breathing patterns not reminded Pete of a cornered rabbit, he wouldn't have known that Gail's grimace was one of horror, and even then the sentiment barely even registered with the man with the head of a bird. His dark hair had been upgraded to a thick coating of dark, ashen feathers, which swept down his neck and shoulders, a cowl that consumed the humanity beneath it. "The fuck--what is this--Pete, what are you..!" The raptor-man didn't pay any heed to the human's meaningless complaints--they would stop soon enough, a rather convincing voice in his head confirmed. They'd come to appreciate this together, their body heat trapped together between feathers and flesh, and the muscles at the corners of Pete's beak pulled up into a barely discernable grin. He'd just have to speed things up a bit. His cock still embedded deep inside Gail, no doubt leaking a healthy amount of pre, Pete's domineering instincts took charge yet again, grabbing a hold of both of the boy's wrists and stroking the pale skin beneath his wicked, talon-like claws. "Shhh, no worries now..." Pete didn't recognize his own voice, so much harsher and unintentionally louder, having risen an octave or two. "You'll enjoy this soon enough...we'll truly be together for the first time, my little chick...fucking like proper birds..." He didn't understand for a moment why he was saying these things, why he was enjoying this so much--but, then again, his mind didn't seem to be allowing room for anything else, his thoughts filtered so strictly that he could barely even comprehend that he was transforming into a giant hawk. Gail, on the other hand, was utterly terrified. As much as he revered birds, seeing one taking over the body of his boyfriend in such a physically personal manner, during their lovemaking--he was choking back tears, wishing the creature would leave him be, would pull itself out of him--it's inhuman cock, leaking it's fluids into him--what had it done with Pete? Why was this happening? And to make things worse...the bird was beginning to thrust, his feathered, sharp hips rocking, that eerie stare boring into Gail's own eyes as he watched his former love breed him like an animal. This was all so fucked up and disgusting, unnatural, unholy-- --And yet... ...Gail didn't feel quite as upset as he should, somehow. The steady rhythm, the paced breathing hissing through the bird's awkwardly placed nostrils, it was all soothing away the edges of Gail's panic. It was still Pete after all, beneath those feathers and those glinting, hungry eyes--it was still the same man hungry for his body and eager to please him. That had to count for something. In fact, little by little, Gail's resistance to the entire ordeal seemed to be slipping, maybe due to the rising pace at which the bird was taking him, his cock still teasing and massaging the same spots inside him that had always made him moan in delight. The more the bird thrust, the more Gail looked at him, at those fine pinfeathers, and watched as a ramose structure of plumage suddenly began extending up and down Pete's arms--starting at the wrist, and ending down past the elbow, powerful wings sprouting from his arms--the more he realized just how beautiful the bird-man really was. Why was he so opposed to all of this, anyway? He was having a hard time remembering--and it didn't help that the stiff rod embedded deep inside him was really beginning to dig in now, Pete growing more excited by the second, working hard to push apart Gail's legs to really bury himself as deep as possible and beginning to succeed. Much to Gail's chagrin--or, not so much, as a matter of fact, why would he think it a bad thing?--the head of that birdcock was beginning to pound at his prostate, and like it or not, Gail was feeling himself growing hard as well, his fearful gasps becoming enamored groans. Something warm, friendly, encouraging, was beginning to grow in his chest, to make him feel giddy and relax his worries away. He knew before it even begun that he was about to change, too. It began in his face. An aching, twisting irritation, numbing the skin and throbbing in his gums. His teeth felt slick and shrunken beneath his tongue, and before he could reach past his lips with a finger to touch them, Pete let out a shriek above him and gave an emphatic thrust--in a frenzy of breeding urges, he'd almost doubled his speed, humping away with reckless abandon at the soft curves of Gail's rump and making the boy cry out in ecstasy as the hot girth of that bird dick ravaged his ass. Something was amiss inside him, between his legs, he knew--and didn't mind in the slightest. Whatever was happening, it felt good, and he couldn't even acknowledge the mental barrier his brain had constructed to block out those inhibitions he'd been feeling a mere minute ago. He reached down to grasp at his stiff cock--and found, much to his surprise, it had actually shrank in size, barely fitting his palm despite how needy it's rock-hard length felt under his fingers. No, he didn't mind, because after all...what really felt good, what he really wanted most right now, was to feel more of Pete's cock inside him, his stretched pucker feeling puffy and irritated while the inner walls of his hungry tunnel felt slippery and much more sensitive than ever before, a budding sensation of insistent throbbing beginning to link the head of his cock with his currently occupied anal ring. His stomach felt tight, and he discovered why--reaching down past his cock, his balls had retracted severely, the flesh of his scrotum painfully tight against his taint; an instant later, they were gone completely, disappearing up into his body and the comforting warmth of his pelvis. The wide space between his legs was nothing but a smooth canyon of flesh, now, the entire region ablaze with his desire for the bird that was making short work of his human dignities. "Mmmyesss...you've already started to give in, haven't you? Ah--this will be so much...so much better for the both of us, Gail, you don't even know..." Pete's feathered brow narrowed, and even with his still human eyes, Gail could begin to understand the happiness in those twin pools of amber, the same sentience and love of his mate echoing in there. 'Mate'--yes, that was a better word, much more comfortable and easier to say. Gail nodded in agreement despite himself, giving one last dreamy smile. "I know, Pete...I know, it's going to be amazing..." Barely had he finished this sentence than that smile dissipated, exploding outwards around an already yellowing hawk's beak, stretching out Gail's entire skull behind it as proto-feathers overtook the pink human flesh and began to match the pattern of the mostly-transformed Pete. The change was brutal, uncompromising, and rippled across Gail's body in shockwaves, bringing that coat of down up to the surface, warping his hands and fingers into awkward mittens before they too began bursting with those dark feathers of flight. It seemed Gail was not deemed fit to keep his hands as they were, instead given a complete pair of wings, which spread beneath Pete in all their glory, the most enticing visual sign of submission Pete's altered brain could ever comprehend. This young bird really was his, now, he'd won. He'd conquered that weak human and given him the gift of freedom, of flight, and now they would be together. But first--there was urgent business to attend to. The older hawk gripped the headboard above the bed with his claws, burrowing into the weak wood, curling his toes as he felt them begin to stretch and shift as well. Power surged through his legs, the thighs fattening and plumping out with feathers while his calves shrunk and scaled over to match his forearms. True claws--no, talons--were tugged free of his former toes, widening his stance, giving him twin tools of killing attached to the ends of both legs. A raptor's feet, designed for pinning and tearing into prey--or restraining them for his pleasure. He utilized them now, stabbing at the mattress and locking himself in, giving himself a steady foundation for him to continue fucking away. Musky preseed was beginning to drip from the straining sphincter around his shaft, the air buzzing with the delicious scent of maleness and sex. Musk rolled off of Pete's thighs in thick waves, marking Gail's bare rump with the scent of possession, reinforced by the frantic fucking the bird was giving his fledgeling. The rest of Gail's body was beginning to catch up to the changes his face was manifesting--patches of dark feathers were cropping up all down his naked back, his arms curling inwards as his shoulders widened with muscle to support his new wingspan, giving an off-balance look to his torso, the rest of which was as slim and shapely as ever. He really was starting to see through the turmoil to his new role, his ass arching up to meet Pete's pounding hips, just as rich, peach-colored down flooded his rump and thighs. Pete watched this particular change with great interest, hawkeyes affixed to Gail's delicious ass, which looked all the more enticing now that it belonged to a bird. And right before his eyes, the centerpiece of it all began to appear, a fibrous, weblike structure of undeveloped feathers rising from Gail's tailbone--then flared up in a flash of brown and white, obscuring Pete's vision almost completely: Gail's new tailfan, spread wide in it's symbolic surrender to the dominant hawk. Pete let out a delighted 'awk' at this new development, pausing his frenetic humping momentarily to duck his head down and tug at one of those wonderful feathers in his beak gingerly, just hard enough to implicitly convey his love for the beautiful new addition to his mate, before going right back to his lust-driven efforts. Said efforts were not going unrewarded--Gail's moans only rose in pitch, quickly becoming strangled caws and other inhuman mating calls. He couldn't see it, but could most definitely feel it--his cock had disappeared entirely beneath his scaly, clawed hand, but it's throbbing insistence remained in full force, compounded infuriatingly by the sensitivity of his slickened ass. In fact, the more his fingers kneaded and rubbed at the empty space of down between his thighs where his cock used to protrude proudly, the flesh itself seemed to be folding inwards, a crevice forming that led all the way up to his stuffed anal ring. Even in this state of copulative bliss, Gail began to dread the loss of his malehood, worried he was indeed becoming a female--but, with further exploration, his fingers found his testes still plump and snug beneath the flesh. His mind sought out the solution, the word for this bizarre hybrid of genitals, and finally it came to him--a cloaca. His changes had become much, much more integral than Pete's, bestowing far more avian features onto him, a clear-cut reminder of just who was meant to fill what role in this relationship now that they'd both transfigured into hawks. His new body was responding to each ancillary message that Pete's sent, the scent of his musk filling his head while the sight of Pete's armwings spread above him while he mounted Gail overcoming the young hawk with the notion of his submission, his subordination, destined to be used as pleasure for his mate. And as the last of their changes tapered off, Gail's feet following Pete's into the shape of talons, both of them becoming decidedly bulkier as the final layers of feathers bedecked their features in swaths of mahogany and charcoal, Pete's last reserves of energy fired up and satisfaction became the number one goal in his mind's eye. There was no more time to waste, he'd been keeping a steady (albeit rapid) pace for far too long and it was time to leave his mark on his mate and seal their union. He spoke again, his throat undulating and beak flapping strangely as he did, but the words were no less his own: "Ohh yes, little hawk, look how beautiful...how sexy you are now, hmm? How tender, perfectly fuckable..." He emphasized this last statement with a gentle nip at Gail's ass, and felt the telltale signs of his mate's love for him as the new cloaca trapping his cock moistened and flexed, weeping with his desire; it didn't take long for his ass and Pete's tailfeathers to become completely soaked, the sheets beneath them dampening with the excess that dripped from their fused loins. He took Gail's next wordless squawk as a confirmation of his feelings, the young raptor's eyes rolled back in his head, and Pete felt a surge of pride at his accomplishment of driving his prey past the breaking point--but he wasn't finished yet, having been holding off just long enough for the changes to finish, but enough was enough. He squeezed the headboard even tighter, the wood splintering beneath his powerful grip, and the bed creaked beneath his talons as they clenched the mattress even tighter in preparation for his final run. His hips dipped lower, slapping quietly but roughly against his lover's exposed rear, the sounds muffled by the thick plumage they'd both grown, and no doubt the heat it produced would have had them both sweating were they still human. Pete's vision narrowed, his testicles clenching within him and flooding his system with adrenaline, his view to the kill overtaking his senses and sending him into overdrive. Pleasure levels spiking, the changed shape of his cock perfectly complimented by the cloaca milking it, his only care in the world was reaching his finish and blowing his load, his thoughts flashing with all manner of lewd images to help him along, each of them featuring his love helplessly enamored by his powerful, avian dick. His chest bulged, the air trapped in his powerful lungs, his peak approaching faster and faster, and what felt like pints of seed backed up inside his confined balls began groaning for release. It was so much more aggravating, so much more intoxicating, than the feeling of a rising climax as a human--this was more than just pleasure, it was a mandate, something urgent, and he needed to cum as fast as possible as hard as possible lest something terrible happened. Angrily, he screeched at the air, pistoning into Gail's splashy cloaca as hard as his shifted body would allow, getting closer and closer... ...And just like that, the dam burst, his body granting release as an immeasurable amount of searing hot cum jettisoned from the head of his cock like a firehose, drenching Gail's insides, flooding his bowels more forcefully and fully than either of them had anticipated. His dick spasmed uncontrollably, and Pete rode the wave of bliss as if he were soaring on an updraft of warm wind, higher than he'd ever been in his life and more satisfied than he could ever hope to be again. Gail was next, his bloated, internal testes feeling squeezed by the pressure filling his cloaca, his overly sensitive, inverted male organ taking the hot release of cum inside as it's cue. Before he even had a chance to cry out, his own pleasure centers throbbed and pulsed until he was barreling towards his climax in the space of a split-second. His own hot birdseed gushed from the clenching lips of his puffy slit, spraying the sticky white mess all over Pete's groin, their matched feathers dripping with their combined wash of spunk. The sheets were ruined with it, their feathers permanently stained with the scent of their love, both birds twitching and cawing out together, fearsome sounds of passion echoing throughout the entire house.

A few moments passed, the two birdmen collecting their breath and energy. Pete craned his neck out and dipped it low between his outstretched arms, and Gail turned his head up in return. The two contemplated kissing for a brief moment, vestiges of their human personalities still lingering, before they simply latched the hooks of their beaks together and tugged each other's heads gently for a few moments. The afterglow was incredible; it was the best they'd ever shared, and Pete knew exactly what to do to make it that much more memorable. "C'mon, little bird, I want to try something..." His claws unhooked themselves from the wood, his wings folding back against his arms, and he gave Gail's sticky rear a few admiring strokes before pulling himself out. He did so slowly, teasingly, letting his cock catch and drag against the overstimulated walls of Gail's passageway and enjoying the resulting squawks of pained pleasure it elicited. All-too soon, though, he finally slipped free, his softening cock exposed to the cold air for the first time since it had been altered. Had he seen it only a few minutes ago, it would have shocked and terrified him, but now it only fueled his smug demeanor--a real hawk's tool, thick at the base, lined with weblike flesh leading back into what looked like a purse of feathers, a slit in the pelvis like a sheath; and leading up to a tapered head, which still dripped pearlescent beads of white--and all of it smelling strongly of his musky, male bird scent. He gave his new pecker a stroke with his scaled fingertips, careful to avoid touching it with his claws, then coaxed himself backwards off the bed and onto his talons. He flexed them experimentally, admiring the grip in the wooden floorboards, giving the rest of himself a brief onceover to take in the extent of the changes. Gail was doing his best to follow his example, the pouchlike cloaca nestled between his roomy thighs still full and oozing white, and even the simple mistake of bumping his thighs together and grinding his puffy lips between them made him chirp cutely in surprise. He finally managed to right himself up on his knees, the mere act of sitting up made more difficult due to the lack of hands--he mused over this, fluttering his wingtips out in front of him, then caught Pete's gaze and abandoned his curiosities. He hopped off the bed onto the floor with a few loud clacks as his talons impacted the wood, and wobbled forward unsteadily on them until he reached the bigger male hawk. Pete sidestepped around him and looped his wingarms around Gail's neck, encompassing him in his warmth and pressing his limp hawkdick up beneath his still-spread tailfan. "We're gonna go outside for a minute...I want to try something out," he repeated, breathing the words in that same raspy voice he'd gained to match his beak. He guided Gail toward's the door, scaled hand massaging at the down of Gail's chest, feeling his breathing and his excited heartbeat alike, savoring these last few moments of waning pleasure they shared before they began to think rationally again and deal with the consequences of being suddenly mutated into animals. Gail allowed himself to be led out of the bedroom, trying in vain to rub at his own crotch with his wings but finding it impossible--and found the solution to his plight in the most obvious place. "Rub me," he whispered up to Pete pleadingly, the smaller hawk wasting no time in getting into the habit of asking his mate to take care of his needs. Pete responded in kind. "Of course", he hissed back teasingly, slipping his strong fingers down Gail's toned body until they reached his groin, and he kneaded firmly at the engorged slit he found there as the two of them made their way slowly down the hall back out into the den. The shudders he felt wash through his mate as a result brought him the purest form of joy he'd ever known. The room was dark, but they had no more troubles in seeing their way through it, their eyesight refined perfectly to their environment. Pete saw the old paperback book that had fallen to the floor earlier still lying in place; he brushed it out of their path dismissively with a hooked talon, regarding the flimsy human object with disdain. He almost thought he felt a tingle not unlike a static shock in his foot when it came in contact with the book, but he ignored it, all his attentions focused on the true object of his affections wrapped snugly in his wings. He used his free hand to unlatch the sliding glass door leading out into the backyard, and pulled it open as wide as it would go, careful to allow his love enough room for his wings to fit through unhindered. Once outside, the cool wind lashed uselessly against their protective coat of feathers, and Pete finally brought the two of them to a halt next to the same lawnchair Gail had been reading in as a human not long ago. "Lay on your back for me," he insisted, beaking gently at Gail's head to emphasize his request. Gail shivered, hanging on Pete's every word, and did as he was told. He lowered himself down, wings outstretched to keep his balance as his tailfeathers folded in behind him to prevent being crushed while he rolled over onto the lawnchair belly-up. He looked up at Pete, full in the face, for the first time since they'd changed, and Pete knew just from looking at those golden eyes that the young bird was smiling. "Harris Hawks," Gail rasped, curling his talons together and raising them up to beckon Pete closer to him. The bigger male bird hooked his fingers in between the offered talons, gently pushing Gail's legs apart to show off the warm crevice of sex between those thighs, spiderwebs of birdseed still clinging to the protofeathers beneath his tail. "Hmm?" He hummed, barely paying attention to anything but what he saw. "That's what we are now. They're really...awk...really popular in falconry," Gail said, pulling Pete's hand closer to him with his clenched foot. "They're social birds--and almost always hunt in pairs." "Mm, well I guess that would explain...well, nothing, really, but makes a bit of sense in a weird way," Pete said, repositioning himself above Gail to better lower himself down with him onto the lawnchair. He took in a whiff of the warm smell rising from that lovely slit, and shivered, his feathers ruffling and his mostly retracted cock beginning to jut out proudly from his sheath again. He lowered his hips to Gail's, slipping the head of his avian spear back into the waiting cloaca of his one and only love. Gail opened his beak silently, eyes closing, his breathing coming fast and hard naturally now with his new set of lungs. "Ahh...so what did you want to try, anyway...?" He breathed after a few moments of letting this teasing go on, Pete's member swelling back up to power in several seconds. "This." Pete eased himself forward, hilting himself within his prey for the second time that day, and he knew with the lustful blood coursing through his veins that they were going to be fucking a lot more often from now on. He held himself there, buried as deep as his length would allow, then raised his arms and spread his wings fully. With no walls to restrain them, they nearly blocked out the entire sky above Gail's head, filling the young Harris hawk's vision with those banners of white and black and autumn-red. Pete raised his head and closed his eyes as well, relishing this newfound feeling of wind whistling between the tips of his feathers, ruffling the downy plumes beneath, the sky above him that he used to treat as a workplace now welcoming him warmly as his new home. One he would share with his prize, his joy, the young raptor he'd be able to finally spend his days with with no boundaries. The circumstances of their change didn't matter now; if absolutely necessary, they could try to discover why and how it happened, but no matter the cause--he knew it was no coincidence Gail came into possession of that old book. Gail understood this gesture, having opened his eyes to watch Pete perform it, and offered one last thing to say before they began round two of their feral lovemaking: "You know...a lot of birds of prey--eagles, some falcons and hawks--often when they mate, they'll fly up as high as they can into the sky, and join together--then fuck as hard and fast as they can while freefalling straight towards the ground...and hope that they come together before they hit." Pete's eyes snapped open, the feathers of his neck and throat rising in excitement. He looked back down at Gail, locking stares with him, and he could feel the tingles of a premature orgasm stirring in his balls as he nursed at this idea thoughtfully. "I can't think of a better way to keep my promise," he said finally, and Gail felt a surge of happiness swelling in his breast. They would go flying together after all.