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Commission for Appollojay89 made with equal parts kink and love :P

Tailfeathers was a most curious place to work, with the most unusual of clientele. Apollo had worked at this ladies' club for six or so years and owed to his job many lays. Loose hens and goslings often took home a rooster or two back to their homes after getting their tail feathers all ruffled up by a nice little show or two.

He made good money and got to see a lot of tail, but still had a few gripes with his job: one, wearing a G-string that exposed his bare ass. And all the recent attention he got from some new, obviously male customers of the club. He wasn't gay nor had any interest in their cocks, so he hoped they'd notice his cold indifference and move onto some horny soul who WAS gay, or at least swung in their favor. Maybe that was too much to hope for, but his patience was wearing out to the point that he'd complain to the club owner about it. Rude customers bothered girls all the time and he wondered if he was awarded the same right as a gigolo.

They must have been admiring his assets for almost a week, leaving Apollo quite unsettled by such special attention. He had no issue with gay males visiting the club, but these two gave him an awful feeling that they were most likely up to no good. The bluejay did his best to ignore them during his routine, but cold machine-like eyes of a tall alligator and Bengal tiger didn't make him feel any more at ease on the job. But what he best remembered was that in the wild, both species ate birds. Those eyes: he wasn't even being lusted after. It was more like he was being emotionlessly judged or examined for something, but couldn't imagine what.

Thankfully, today was different, a nice change. The two scary preds hadn't shown up today, which better allowed him to concentrate on his job and better entertain the ladies without worry. And the better he danced, the better his chances for picking up some fine tail. He smiled sweetly with his sharp shiny black beak, wings spread most gracefully as his taloned feet and hands scraped around a tall gold-painted pole. This pole, not of his tastes, was three inches thick and was in the shape of ten horse cocks stacked up glans to end with every detail absolutely accurate to the point he'd assumed they were molds by the real thing. Being hetero, he never felt any temptation to dream or think about male horses ; his mind was on other things more appealing to his sexuality.

He clacked his beak and winked as an older mature-seeming swan placed a large sum in his thong that now pressed up against his anus and rustled like dry leaves. "Most appreciated, kind lady." He crooned softly with an erotic raise of neck fluff and an elegant spreading of rear plumage much like a paper fan. She blushed at his public courtship display, a small haughty smirk on her narrow yellow beak.

She sipped nobly from a wineglass of Arbor Mist, the small gulps of drink making soft little waves as they flowed down her fluffy long white neck. "Dear, don't thank me, yet. I want a private show later, and I can only hope you are pleasing to my high standards, then. Very high standards. I am given to believe that you are the only worthy specimen I need for miles abound." She purred back at him, slapping a feminized male robin "waitress" on the bottom and asking for change and another drink.

Unlike the dancers who could be gay or straight, the sissy waiters went both ways ; enjoying a hard cock under the tail feathers, or a hens guiding penitent hand on their butt for being too "naughty". "And where did you hear so much about me?" Apollo snickered out, unabashedly thrusting his crotch out at her vulgar passionate display as bluish-white wings billowed out gently behind him like a cape in the wind.

She chuckled and gave his obvious hardness a gentle poke with one of her talons. "Well, baby, I'd tell you what a little birdy told me, but I'd be lying." Her neck stretched out into his panties and the hard narrow beak gave his little rooster a kiss before she dropped a fifty down his front. "Now be a good boy for momma and earn your keep." She cooed, unbuttoning the top two fasteners of her cleavage so he could peer at two feathery white breasts smashed provocatively together like marshmallows without any shame. And so he was set to giving her the best show he could, his progress based on how much of her body she uncovered to tease him. By the time that slender lovely body was down to a lacy pink thong and extra padded brassiere, his shift was over and he was all exhausted with sweat.

But he got what he wanted, and after a lunch break, he'd be giving a lap dance and most likely feeding his bird seed into a tight cloaca. Well, at least he hoped he recovered enough of his vitality by the time his moment arrived. For the light dinner that followed every afternoon show, he found himself sharing time with five others over vegetable soup and saltines. The closest and most flamboyant was a crow in a lacy pink thong whom often bragged about the one pony he'd managed to fit under his tail: a bold achievement for a such a skimpy bird, but of no interest to Apollo.

He found himself shrugging in despair, the size of the fabled cock grew to ridiculous dimensions with every retelling of the story. When Georgy had embellished the size all the way up to a Percheron, he knew without any doubt no crow as unprepared as this slut could live to tell the tale. But to stay on good terms, he let the lie live without any gripe on his end. He only hoped Georgy would be smart enough not to boast in front of a real draft, or they might put the crow up to a challenge he couldn't handle.

Compared to their romps that they told long tales about, Apollo thought he was the lucky one. Swans were typically too haughty and proud to bother themselves over birds outside the caste. He should have had more suspicion in being so obviously admired by one who wouldn't normally share the time of day, but he didn't. Instead he focused on a silly metaphor in his mind; 'a bird in the hand was worth more than two in the bush', which meant that the original author had apparently insinuated masturbation was twice as good as sex. At least, that's how he thought of the incurable nonsense.

He finished the soup ahead of schedule and tossed his crackers at a nearby scarlet macaw in a bright pink thong. "Polly wanna cracker?" To which the bird looked up and squawked about how he found the comment offensive. Not because of the insult to parrotkind everywhere, but because Apollo referred to his human friend as a "cracker", a further clever play on the original joke. And true to parrot tenacity, his proffered crackers were gone before the jay could change his mind.

Once he downed a small cup of frothy steaming cappuccino, he left the tale and hoped his earliness wouldn't ruffle that sweet hens' feathers too much. She seemed to have enthusiasm for him, so maybe seeing his booty an hour ahead of schedule would appeal to her curiosities.

Apparently it wasn't such a good thing, as he found her dictating orders to the two creepy males that had freaked him out earlier. Exactly what were they doing here, her bodyguards? It didn't make sense, as swans never hired protection that weren't as graceful or beautiful as them; stallions and white Brahma bulls or English collies often filled the role as he noticed. Except these two oddball fucknuts? They met no standards for the courtly expectations of the swan hierarchy. So why, then?

He listened, but their mumbled words made no sense to him: "From outward appearance and flexibility, I think we have the right toy." The tiger growled, arms slumped as though in a lazy trance. They talked and reacted, but didn't seem all there. A little coo coo, he'd call it.

She smiled and took in the bland observation with mild amusement that seemed carefully rehearsed so as to not give any secrets away. "I saw that for myself, thank you very much." The lady snapped dismissively, puffing out her ruffled cleavage with an assertive trumpet. Apollo hid outside the doorway, his interest piqued by this odd reenactment of the three stooges. "In any case, it makes no difference. We still have to test the toy for ourselves before we make any plans to sell it." Following that with a whistling snort through the tiny slits of nostrils in her beak.

What kind of toy could she be talking about that she'd need the assistance of two idiots to help build it? The time for his appointment was rapidly approaching as he listened to this bizarreness and tried to decide if he wanted to go on with the show or abandon her to his paranoia. Whatever she was up to, it wasn't any good, and a simple seamstress couldn't afford to put three hundred in his string so casually.

Finally he decided it didn't matter what she'd been up to as he got himself paid and laid for the honor. This coded illegal talk of dolls unsettled him, but he didn't let that stop him from what he most desired. He'd never taken a swan's cunny, and found that a once in a lifetime treat that couldn't be passed up. On the expected time he stepped out to the lady, whom was flanked in opposite chairs by her henchman. If they were going to be here during the sex, he hoped he could ignore their odious presence during the mating. "Ah, here comes the pretty one. These albino blue jays are such a rare breed, you know. Please, entertain us." She softly ordered, sweet eyes not so much admiring him any longer, but more going over his body to inspect him.

To be glared at like that unsettled him, but he went up to the small private stage and began his performance all over again, this time trying to save as much energy as he could; knowing he'd be useless for breeding if he had none left. So basically, Apollo tried to be lazy without showing it. If she noticed, she didn't say or do anything to let on.

In any case it wouldn't matter, as she seemed pleased regardless of what he did. "I think that's enough." She observed, stripping down to just her thong this time, cloaca wet and making the room smell strongly of her avian passion. Apollo reacted strongly, reinvigorated by the energizing aroma of feathered heat in the room. Most odd, her companions didn't react to the stimulus or her naked slender body at all. Species tended to stick to their own, but her shapely curves were common enough to inspire their libidos in some way, but no. As far as he knew, they were neutered statues or emotionless slaves.

He tried to ignore them, but their artificial shallowness just made him altogether nervous. As she stood and bent over with long tail feathers lifted out of the way, using the edge of the stage for support, he knew without a doubt this had been the informal invitation he'd been looking for. Shy eyes blinked up at him as a red shadow passed through her narrow cheeks in an eloquent blush. So she was shy, yet still willing to offer herself up to him? Either very brave or horny indeed!

Apollo clacked his beak at her reassuringly, wiggling out of a black sequined thong where she could see it fall to the carpet. His ear tufts and feathers along his neck were raised in excitement as her natural pheromones merged with his blood, it seemed, and thus awoke an instant insatiable need of lecherous wants. "You sure you want this?" She only cooed softly in response, hiding her head bashfully under tucked in wings at her back, but didn't object to his presence or the proximity of his tool to her nude body.

He stared adoringly at her white shape, lazy eyes drinking up the overwhelming pleasantness of her beautiful fluffed glory. In painted form, she'd make a masterpiece, but in a physical sense, she was the goddess he had been forbidden from touching. Because of that reverence, he didn't want to hasten his loins to her cause, but was instead glad to stare at her loins.

Apparently she hadn't appreciated the gravity of his worship, as her slender streamlined head poked out to leer at him in what he thought of as a show of frumpy ignoble impatience toward his hesitation. "If you want it, you better take it fast. I have an important meeting with several important buyers in a few hours, and obviously I need some time to compose my uncouthness prior to that." Compared to her usual calm aloofness, this seemed to come out of nowhere, though the reproachful coldness of her tone did indeed remind him of the typical nature of arrogant headstrong swans that he'd been more acquainted with.

Given the ugly manner she now addressed him, did he even want sex with her? He thought not; her heat could burn in hell along with the rest of her, even if he did have to walk out of there naked. "Thank you, but no. I'm flying the coop." He squawked out indignantly, slapping her beak with his tail on the way out. Although he was done with her nasty prejudice, it seemed she wasn't done with HIM.

The damp panties and sloppy outline of her black featherless labia gave him quite a spectacle enough to look back, but none more than that. He placed too high a price on his pride, but wouldn't let her biased nature be forgotten in place of his own male needs. "No, I don't think so. I've wasted too much time to find you." Then she clapped her beak sharply twice, making a noise like a cricket. That seemed to be a signal to her brain dead henchmen, as they rose up like machines and seized him.

He struggled with the two as the crocodile pulled down the swan's thong, and the tiger aimed his jaycock at her dribbling nether lips down below a nicely rounded white birdy bottom. So if this is all she wanted, why all the extreme measures just to have a poke? Unless she wanted to brood his young, he just couldn't imagine why she'd need to be so forceful about her goals.

As his organ was pressed into her, he felt her wet lips smother the raging fire of his pecker with a delirious moan out of his beak. Sinking into a swan's juice-spewing cunny left him speechless as her heat and softness overstimulated his tip all over by the grace of avian passions. Lightning. That was all it took for pleasure to become agony as something deeply hidden in her cloacal vent then stung him on his most vulnerable organ.

Apollo squawked out as though he'd been rudely plucked bare, but by that time, his goose was already cooked. He suddenly found himself limp and unable to move, little more than a stringless puppet held aloft by her goons alone. On his penis he saw a clear plastic octopus clamped on the end with a sharp needle stabbed into his flesh and slowly pumping in some unknown toxin. "What's the matter, babe? Pussy got your tongue?" The swan teased, slapping her butt in an audible snap of motion to further taunt his helpless condition. "That paralyzing agent should keep you all nice and docile while we get you ready for the doll factory." A chill passed through the blue jay as he finally discovered where her toys would be coming from, but by then his complete immobility had proven it was much too late to escape from her wicked little games.

Since he couldn't walk, and wouldn't be able to as long as that contraption was still on, they had to carry him around and gave others the impression he was drunk as his legs flopped around like strings. She led the way to the fire exit at the left side of the stage, and when the door was opened, there was no alarm; just a white van parked in an alleyway. It had no logo nor any marks on it other than license plates for Kentucky. Kentucky, of all places!

Once taken inside, he was thrown on the floor at the back as the croc went to the front seat to drive. As the vehicle pulled out, the nude swan put on a silken green thong and pink sheer see through robe with a sigh before sitting on some homely brown stool bolted down to the floor between the threshold of the driver area and cargo space. She drizzled a decanter of amber wine directly down into her beak, thin long neck pulsing with light elegant swallows while she kept her eyes closed. "I am comfortable, now. Please process the new doll to make it safe for ownership." She ordered to the hulking feline with those odd mildly empty eyes without purpose or intelligence.

As before, those eyes creeped him out. If he didn't know any better, he could be led to believe that her two companions were little better than empty-headed robots awaiting input. What further made the tiger seem like a machine was that he didn't talk or act like the swan even existed; only reacting to her words in a diminished capacity of awareness.

The first thing that was done involved Apollo being flipped on his belly, not that he could complain about it! His gaping beak could only drool all over the cold steel floor as he saw the tiger wield a long sharp pair of poultry shears. Assuming harm was meant, he closed his eyes to try to ignore it. When the blades scraped together and he felt light fluff falling on his soft feather back and butt, the bird finally realized that his wings were being trimmed to prevent escape by flight.

The work was quickly over and the tiger moved onto the next task, which was to trim all his sharp claws and talons down into dull rounded nubs that would be useless for defense. "Yes, good. Now for the beak. A doll shouldn't be able to bite, no matter the reason." She declared, finishing her drink and allowing Apollo to stare at her wet sex in a now drenched transparent panty. She giggled at the attention she received from the blue jay. "Enjoy the view while you can. Most of my toys are purchased by large homosexual males." He found himself whining, terrified and not comfortable with such a prospect.

He, of course, was not interested in other males. He watched warily as the tiger then plugged a reciprocating saw into the cigarette lighter socket and replaced the saw attachment with a rasp attachment instead. Apollo was no fool to what this was for, as it powered up with a whine and was pressed to his lower beak at the hinge, and set his head to vibrating most uncomfortably. It began to give him a headache as black sand-like particles of discarded beak fell on his tongue and caused him to cough.

Light dust turned to a murky blackish clay as it spilled from the corners of his mouth in oily little clumps of shiny slime. Soon enough it was over, and Apollo found himself gagging as much as draining debris from a once-sharp beak. "Good, good. This toy is looking great so far." She chuckled, stepping out of her sloppy undies and dropped them on his face as he was now rolled on his back. "Are we almost back to the factory?" The swan asked lightly, looking back towards to the croc to get an answering nod.

Sooner than expected the van came to a stop, slightly jarring him and making the tiger slam his head against the back doors. The big feline didn't react with any pain to the accident, except to get back into position. "Test his anus before we go in. Virginity sets his worth at ten times greater than one that has been previously violated under the tail." His face was buried in the panty as he was flipped back on his belly once again by the loud gruffly-panting tiger.

He moaned as his tail feathers were quickly and painfully yanked aside as the tiger spat on his anus with hot slime and jammed something hard, rubbery, long, and slender up into his hole and inflated it wider with some unseen hissing squeeze bulb. "I see. Point-oh-three for tightness. Well within acceptable anal virginity limits. He wouldn't have had anything up there larger than a finger, if that." She observed, a black webbed paw stroking against an equally black clit in a lusty manner through the sheer nightgown slip.

The blatant erotic display confused him. Was she masturbating because she got off on watching helpless males being turned into sex toys? And exactly what did that mean? That he'd be shipped off to a foreign country, or were there worse things planned for him? They didn't go inside until she'd finished herself up, an orgasm shuddering throughout her body with little moans of crooning ecstasy while the pretty feathers stood up on end with ruffling waves of goose pimples. "My god, that was good. Every time I embark on the making of a new doll, it sets my nethers to restless passion. Grab him and let us go." She finally ordered, sloppy dribbles leaking off the edge of the stool with the strong perfume of that "passion" so described.

He found himself picked up rudely by the tiger in a manner little more dignified than a large sack of rice under that smelly armpit. The new environment they came into was a dark decaying factory floor with a strong smell of sweet rust and sour mold. Above on the third level were old catwalks surrounding a grease-stained ancient hulk of machinery and conveyor belts.

Surely she wasn't planning on putting him in that ugly monstrosity? He hoped this place was just a hideout for doing multiple illegal things. "You two repair the machine while I advertise the new toy for prospective buyers." The tiger dumped him uselessly into a wheelbarrow and approached an open panel on an instrument dais that needed rewiring. He set himself to obediently fixing it as the swan giggled and rolled Apollo away into a smaller adjoining room.

The factory room had an overall dank feel, but this new area was far darker and full of more moldy musk, maybe due to the more enclosed spaces involved. With unusual strength for a swan, she grunted and heaved him up into an aluminum display stand very much like a small short set of monkeybars. Two rungs were under his armpits to hold him upright in the air, albeit with gradually increasing pain and strain on his shoulders.

She flipped on switches nearby, sudden bright blue lights flooded his eyes as they seemed to put his feathers in a higher detail of focus than normal. He suddenly felt like the blue light special for strange horny men. Above and below, he noticed four rotating webcams on each of two circular metal tracks much like monorails. "Showtime!" Apparently better to document all of his goodies for said customers.

A wall of screens with faces in shadow suddenly popped on, many of them identifiable only by general outlines of species and nothing else. Underneath each form in darkness was a timestamp and location label at the bottom for which each of them lived. "Wonderful that all of you are here, but now it's time to start the proceedings. We start at a hundred thousand." The sum nearly caused the bird to choke, as it was the same amount for a car or cheap house. He hardly thought he could be worth that much, but was surprised when nearly all bidders rose to the challenge. A select few screens blacked out as the beginning bid was apparently too high for them.

Still, it hardly made a dent in the needs of the rest involved, and they spoke with their checkbooks by bidding almost violently amongst themselves like spoiled siblings bickering over the toy out of a cereal box. It went on for several hours like this, a camera constantly zooming up his butt to verify his status of virginity. Now forty screens blacked out in capitulation, only ten still active in this competitive little auction war as his armpits grew ever more sore all the while.

His paralysis wouldn't allow him to even protest or make much noise as things finally wound down to a shouting match between a very large horse and ferocious husky; neither of which seemed appealing to what he wanted. He didn't want to be owned by either, but it was all out of his control and spiralled into place faster than he felt comfortable with as she made arrangements and discussed things with the stallion: winner for six hundred thousand.

The swan gave him a few more moments to admire his purchase before speaking up further. "And of course, we offer our default feminization package with personality reprogramming and all the accessories that come with it. You can review available upgrades and other behavior modifications for an hour or so, but we must process him no later than that or the paralyzing agent will destroy his liver. Long-term harms of the chemical are quite clear. If the auction had went faster, you'd have more time, but I won't process a doll that isn't fully paralyzed: terrible accidents have been caused by the machine in the past. Only total lack of movement can leave the doll undamaged." An irritated snort from the new client followed her commentary with weary acceptance.

The final screen lit up in full contrast so that Apollo could see for himself what kind of kinky fuck would want to buy him. It turned out to be a broad-shouldered black and white draft horse. A Gypsy Vanner, if he were to guess right on the breed. "Do not concern yourself with a 'custom job'. I only want the bird as he is now. I like my pets to learn of my gory unaltered and without force." As he said that, a slender male fox all covered in pink-dyed fur jumped nakedly into the equine's wide lap and shared a tender cuddle with his master. Behind were the furnishings of what seemed like a Turkish hotel of some kind. "That is the authentic way I want to love my harem concubines." The large lusty male purred, stroking on the fox's lean-packed butt with mild amusement.

The swan lady blushed and coughed to hide her discomfort, apparently not used to such obvious displays of homoerotic affection. "I see, but my policy will not allow me to give you the doll until it has been properly configured." She replied, lightly shaking her head in denial. So although he found himself liking the horse a bit more for his respectful nature, Apollo had only contempt for this awful lady who couldn't even acknowledge his status as a living being. She only hid herself behind sanitized phrases to deny her own involvement in wrecking the life of a sentient creature.

The stallion picked up on this and liked it about as much as the blue jay, if his cold grey eyes and scowl were any indication. "Then the most basic configuration you will allow." He grunts, aware he had no control over what would happen from all the way in the Middle East. Apollo had a sudden chill come over him when he fully realized that they were discussing the alteration of his most sacred memories! No, of course he didn't like the way things were going, but could only hope none of it would be painful. "If I find one thing in excess that I do not like, I will sue you for the difference. My pets should be as happy and normal as possible without any bimbofication being required." The large naked male further threatened, this time showing his teeth in defiance as he stroked the supple rump of his obviously blissful and content fox toy.

Then the screen flipped off while the swan sighed and rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Idiot horse. I can't very well have the quality of my products put into question simply by passing on a shoddy doll. Wouldn't you agree?" She asked towards Apollo, not expecting an answer out of him as long as the cocktopus injected its toxin into his flaccid hanging maleness. "Where were we? Right. This used to be a factory for fully sculpted silicone sexdolls, but I fortunately found it abandoned. I converted it to more fruitful ventures instead, and applied the factory towards the conversion of persons into more realistic high quality lovedolls; ones that would do anything commanded and love it all the whole while so the owner can avoid feelings of guilt. I have not done an avian before, so I think you'll be a fun challenge." She cooed, putting him back in the wheelbarrow to take him in the main factory area.

Just as he'd grown comfortable with his rest in the shallow wagon, she picked him up again with deceptive strength to put him on another armpit holding stand like the one before, his joints screaming in pain from the strain. But she had no heart: what concern had she for the woes of a sex toy? "My grandmother Faithry taught me all there was to know in efficiently modifying the mind, but she said she didn't appreciate my lack of respect for the subject being experimented on. What matters is that the results are the same, and if it causes you distress, why should I care?" He was shocked at her callous distancing nature, but what could she do that she hadn't already?

Her feathery fingertips reached over and delicately pulled down a lever hanging out of a lopsided gray steel panel, the machine-beast choking to life as electricity fed roto-motors and gears in its unusually long and deep belly. Although there were places on the pop-up holding stands for five dolls at one time, for the practical concerns and volatile risks associated with kidnapping, it was obvious the swan could only do this to one person at a time.

The conveyor belt slowly came into action with squeaking jerks of the rollers and segmented metal plates that made it look like a tank tread, gradually smoothing its pace into a fluid movement as the oil warmed itself. He was frightened beyond all belief, but his heart betrayed him with the same peaceful low beating that it had possessed since his capture, obviously the work of the paralyzing chemicals. It also kept him from having a heart attack from his growing terror and anger, and by he indication of his unease he didn't know if that was a good thing. Getting brainwashed into sluttitude might very well make him seek death. A wide beam crimson scanner flashed over the stand ahead of him and was then ignored, the machine programmed not to waste time on empty racks. Now it was his turn, and all that red filling his eyes left him sick and nauseous with a need to vomit, except his muscles were too relaxed and unresponsive to let him. Obviously, that was the default doll scanner that came with the assembly-line, and the swan hadn't bothered to switch it out for one more friendly towards living things. "This first part is two-fold. One, it injects an enzyme directly into the part of the brain that gives off violent impulses; in effect, you'll be as meek and shy as a lamb. The second is a jack into the brain stem itself to hack all your memories and alter them with substitutes more fitting to your new life. Think of it like mental mad libs. We erase all masculine imagery and replace it with sissy things. Say for example, you went to the beach: your trunks would be replaced with a pink flower-patterned bikini. A preference for women would be altered for men instead. Any questions?" The last was obviously a joke, since he wouldn't be able to respond in his current condition.

Exactly what did she mean by substitutes? In just a second he got his answer as an aluminum collar clasped snugly around his neck and nearly caused him to suffocate; obviously not one-size-fits-all. The swan was looking all the more cheaper and caustic by the moment. Sudden pain caused his eyes to twitch in a wide-open state as a long thick needle jabbed itself deeply into the back of his skull and brain, perhaps going ten or so inches inside before stopping, then hissing loudly with a small injection and withdrew back out. A warmth built up inside his head and gave him a terrible ache. Slowly, he could feel his unequivocal hatred for the swan fading away. In fact, he found himself with an astonishing lack of anger or hostility to anything. If something bothered him, he only felt like running away from it instead of fighting or yelling.

He felt emasculated as his assertive instincts melted away and left only uncertain cowardice in its place. A shorter more stubbier thing jabbed into his neck from behind and buzzed with electricity, setting his whole head to humming as though muted bees were inside. Static pinched his skin and caused muscles in his neck to spasm mildly while he felt the low zaps rewriting the data in his head. Not quite in the way of a computer, but a bit similar.

Because the anger had left him, he could only feel intense fear and sorrow at the uncertainty of having the very seeds of his being reprogrammed by a soulless machine that felt nothing for violating the sacred inner thoughts of a rational being. His memories were first changed in basic ways: getting dressed every morning now asserted an extreme ease and comfort with wearing pink perfumed panties and dresses, or pink puffy diapers when he went to bed at night. Why diapers? The machine just erased his memories of being potty trained, instead replacing them with images of how his mother enjoyed diapering her closet fag sissy son and kept him that way because she found it 'adorable'.

He was disgusted; none of that was like him at all, but given enough time it wouldn't matter. Once finished, all the mental clues of his original masculinity would be gone and leave behind just this template of girly horrors. "I wouldn't fight it, were I in your place. It'll only bring misery on you." The swan offered, but what did she know? Apollo doubted she'd ever used this awful machine on herself!

The maelstrom of deceit encumbered him with lies much like shackles, bringing down his being into an abyss it could not escape. Cock! Not cock! Sweat beaded over his eyes at this new torture. All those memories he had of sexy owl girls or ravens were recorded over with male counterparts, hung like farm animals. And in every instance, he was either bending over with tail feathers lifted in invitation for a plowing, or giving long sensual beak jobs!

How long had it taken? He had no idea, only that he felt like a new bird by the time the collar unclasped from him with a metallic clap. Much the same Apollo came out as went in, except for a severally contrasted personality. He could use a big cock in him now, the odd hunger for sticky seed in either end now caused him a different kind of distress altogether. But he knew he wouldn't be getting it in the tail: it was inferred by his value that his worth would go down if anything went in his butt.

Except--that was impossible: he'd already had his turkey hole stuffed by an assertive hawk one day at the end of cheerleader practice. The brown gyrhawk sneaking into the girls' locker room after his own football practice ended, still all smelly and covered in the musk and filth of the field. How the large avian had made the little slutty Apollo feel. In that secluded shower room, his pom-poms weren't the only things shaking that day.

Arnold M., yes they'd gone steady for a year with multiple dates, and the hawk had even been sensitive and understanding towards his odd private needs. This showed by the hawk being a sweet daddy figure to change his diapers, but the silly butt jay had several boyfriends and nsa flings to make his beak and ass veritable cum factories. And he remembered something else: if someone called him a birdy bitch or some sexy alteration of blue jay, it would cause him to get uncontrollably and obediently horny to do whatever his mate wanted. It was somewhat like a safe word in reverse, leading into more kinkiness and depravity rather than away. Oh, and he signed a contract with this sex toy company because he thought it was the sexiest thing ever to be made into a lovedoll and be sold to a stranger for their dirty lustful needs. Well, it was unclear why he wanted to do it, but he was happy with the idea enough to go through with it.

He found himself blushing and looking down as the swan's pacification unit was pried off the tip of his erect maleness, a dizzying amber light beam flashing in his face to apparently measure his facial proportions. First his beak was opened up and a layer of instantly hardening pink latex was squirted along the edge much like new lips. He imagined it worked the same way for teeth, ensuring the doll couldn't bite any cocks that would be put in there. Although apollo was quite content to perform his role as a bimbo blow jay, the procedure was probably to prevent any accidents rather than willful hostility. Sex toys had to be one hundred percent safe for the precious cocks, after all.

So although a bit odd and uncomfortable, his pecker was now pecker-friendly with even the sharp tip getting a dollop ball of the goo to round out his nose a bit more. The pink color was probably chosen, because he now looked as though he had on permanent lipstick! Pink blush and purplish eyeshadow were also applied, both as perma-latex. In the reflection f the unpolished blurry sheet metal, he could tell that he was already being turned into some pretty prostitute doll for some kinky soul who would obviously enjoy that.

Oh, thats right. Some gay horse in Saudi Arabia had wanted him like this, right? Now his talons and claws were yanked out from the roots to make him grunt and whine with light tears, the nubs filled with more pink latex cast into squishy fake nails. If he could scream and move around a little more like that, it was obvious the effects of the chemical were beginning to wear off. A good thing too, as the inability to move caused him to get all bothered and exacerbated his claustrophobia.

The next part of the process was unexpected but hardly surprising. His eyes closed as a misty shower of rose perfume fell on his body and soaked into his feathers. Apollo liked it when his panties smelled all nice and girlish, so this was also a nice change. An industrial blower passed him by, and the next part of the procedure began: a high-powered tattoo gun buzzed over his lower half, giving him a big bright pink heart on the round portion of his left buttock and a purple butterfly tramp stamp right above his tail. It was a bit painful, but not as bad as the forceful declawing.

Things stopped after that, the machine idling as it awaited further orders. The swan stroked her beak as she looked at the display nearest to him. "Now what nice things should our new dolly wear? Fancy pink tea party dress, yes. Giant pink puffy frilled diaper, yes. Stretching pink microfiber panty diaper cover with ruffles, yes. Oh, and what do we have here? A mucous gland stimulator. It's to ensure that your tailhole is always dripping and lubed so a toy can be used any moment without hesitation. Yes, I'll put that birdy sluthole into overdrive!" She giggles, quickly pushing all the right buttons to make it so.

For Apollo, it was all so great and dreamy. A great deal of his fantasies and kinks were coming together all at once in one tidy package. To the bird, it was all a heady wine of glorious pleasure. With all the commands in place, his transformation began once more. First something slowly entered his butthole: the slim probe stabbed a few dozen tiny needles into his rectum before the whole thing slipped back out. Almost immediately, he could feel a curious sensation like his butt were salivating. Anal mucous slowly collected at the inner part of his sphincter like an enema.

Done with that, it was time for his diaper. The frame lowered until his rump was almost in contact with the icy metal tracks. The sissy padding was laid out neatly from behind him, and he was slowly dragged backwards until his buns were resting in the center of the hourglass. The stand sunk lower to drop him right into the padding, tilting on its axis just as his ankles were lifted out of the way by cold steel shackling clamps. After that, a cannon of sorts was pointed at his presented white bum and blasted him with a chilly shotgun spray of fresh perfumed talc. His butt was dropped in the diaper, and another cloud of baby powder was launched at his crotch. Finally, his diaper was closed up quickly and snugly with machine precision in a flash he couldn't see. The diaper must have been six inches of of thick wool, the crotch forced his legs painfully apart with a sixteen inch gap spreading his loins wide open.

After his diaper, the frame rose up briefly to let the stretchy panties go up his legs as his tail hastily poked through the back meant for such purposes. The diaper used a V notch with a velcro strap to keep the waistband firm, as the use of a hole wouldn't work for ten alternating layers of shifting absorbent fleece sheets.

Last would come the dress, and indeed it was a beautiful fancy thing for many a stately affair. It was an odd thing to waste something so pretty on a sex toy when less cumbersome miniskirts were available, but he found himself instantly in love with the look of it. Somehow the assembly-line managed to get it on him; the blue jay feeling very pretty and cozy in the warmness of the oddly comfortable attire. With that done, Apollo was dropped rudely on a cardboard placard and white twist-ties bound him into place. Then he was slid into an enormous cardboard box with a wide transparent plastic display screen. Now he felt every bit like a child's doll in life-size form. Yet it still wasn't done, as he was slipped into a tall corrugated cardboard shipping box and could hear as an address sticker was slapped on the outside. It was an eternal darkness with only his lovely dress and cuddly oversized baby diaper to keep the slut bird company.

A few days must have passed, the constant darkness and random unseen movements driving him half mad from the awful deprivation. He'd soiled himself twice and wet himself more times than he could have ever counted. In the twilight of his growing loneliness and insanity, he thought he heard a doorbell. But when the box's top was lifted and flooding bright light hurt his eyes with bountiful rays of blaring sun, he knew he was home now and had a new life to look forward to.