FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Snail's Pace Written by Leo_Todrius Commissioned by Gigaguess

The University of Nevada was known for many things, including their excellent business courses, environmental sciences and a variety of hands on skills... but just as much as any field of study, the UN was known as one of the nation's favored party schools. One might not be able to tell during the day as students filled the buildings, quiet and studious, but that was mostly the oppressive heat and long nights keeping them in check. As the sun and temperatures started to go down, the night livened up.

Hours had passed and the off campus party was in full swing. There were tiny tapping noises, splashes and cheers as balls went into the beer pong cups, sloshing their golden brew onto the tables. A full bar had been set up with students taking turns mixing drinks, though as they partook of their own brew their success rate was starting to fall. People were talking sports, movies, sex and generally unwinding... and few were more unwound than Brad Hammond.

The college freshman had never felt more liberated in his life, except perhaps during orientation weekend. He'd arrived at college an eager eyed student ready for the next phase of his life, but living a life without parental supervision surrounded by some of the country's best vices was too irresistible. In a few short months he'd been transformed. He wore a backwards NU baseball cap over his buzzed, short brown hair. He'd even grown out a goatee to cover his chin, keeping it just as long as his head hair. What muscles he had were shown off through the sleeveless gray t-shirt he wore, his arms sun burned and tanning up from the Nevada heat.

Living life so care free had taken a bit of a toll as well, though, both on Brad's grades and on his body. His formerly fit stomach had a small amount of pudge to it and his muscled arms were getting an extra layer of fat over them too. Brad couldn't have cared in the slightest. It made him look bigger and tougher and more like the jock he was becoming. While the beer had killed his mental abilities as a student, they'd hardly made a dent in his physical pursuits. If anything, he was less inhibited to try risky behaviors and they'd paid off.

Brad leaned against the wall at the back of the house, clutching the blue plastic cup in his hand, his eyes looking at the sophomore across from him. Christopher was explaining his Native American heritage and how he was, in fact, not a mexican as many believed... His long black hair was hanging over his shoulders and he wore an earring in his left ear that held a feather dangling from it. While Brad would have found the speech rather over the top when sober, it was captivating while drunk.

"Dude, didja... Didja ever do a spirit quest with that like... chipotle?" Brad asked. Christopher shot him a glance.

"Peyote?" he asked before nodding.

"Dude! That's fuckin... fuckin amazing, being in touch with your like... your roots." Brad slurred, "I'd give anything to be in touch with like... ancestors or nature or whatever."

"Well it takes great physical endurance and spirituality. You have to be open to what comes." Christopher commented.

"Fuck, dude, I'm so open I'm like a Wal-mart..." Brad whispered. Christopher chuckled a bit at that.

"I think you've been a bit too open. Maybe its time to get you home, get some sleep." Christopher said. Brad's eyebrows lowered.

"I don't need any help getting home, I live just a block away..." Brad murmured.

"You're sure?" Christopher asked. Brad nodded and Christopher shrugged. Feeling a little like he'd been uninvited to the party, Brad turned and moved for the door, heading out into the night air. The door eased shut behind him and the sounds of the party grew muffled. Brad made it a few steps before he slumped down on the sidewalk and looked around.

The distant horizon was starting to lighten up with the first rays of sunrise stretching across the vast and spacious desert. Nature was right there, and Brad felt like he had already been dosed with the spiritual medicine of his people. Christopher wasn't the only one that could get in touch with nature, Brad felt it was time for a spirit quest of his own. He got back up to his feet and stumbled toward home, his hand slipping into his pocket. After spending a lifetime hearing the lessons about not drinking and driving, Brad broke that rule and pulled out his keys, his eyes set on the jeep resting at the end of his driveway.

****

While Brad's decision to drive into his spirit quest had been a terrible one, it was good he had headed out into the desert rather than along city roads. A cloud of dust wafted behind the jeep as the tires dug into the desert dirt. It had been ages since the last rain and the entire area was a dust bowl just waiting to happen. Brad swerved and circled, spiraling deeper and deeper into the desert. The morning light was spreading outward slowly, giving everything a silvery ethereal sheen.

Brad wondered if the car was getting in the way of the spirit quest, but at the same time it was just as American as his beer was. He'd have his spirit quest his own way. Brad felt patriotism fill his heart and then his throat, then he realized it wasn't patriotism at all. The jeep skidded to a stop as Brad leaned over the door of the jeep and threw up, his stomach juices splattering to the ground.

The shifting of fluids left Brad feeling light headed. In some ways his mind felt clearer, but he also felt like he was dizzy and worn out. He blinked a bit and lifted his head slowly, looking into the sun, feeling the air heating up bit by bit... and then, in that lowest point of his life, he saw something he'd never expected to see - a kangaroo. Long, thick tail... Huge feet, floppy ears. One jump, two, then three. It hopped along before disappearing into the sunlight itself.

"Fuck me... I don't know what in the hell that means." Brad muttered. He turned the jeep toward the vision and drove on, heading toward the light. Minutes passed without spotting the kangaroo again, but out of the light formed a shape, a boxy shape... the shape of a warehouse Brad was even more confused. He knew he could hallucinate an animal, but the warehouse was too mundane, too simple to be out on its own. There were no roads, no electrical lines, nothing at all connecting the building to the outside world - well, except satellite dishes dotting the roof.

Wondering if the warehouse itself was some sort of sign, Brad slowed as he approached, pulling the jeep up to the side of the building where an unmarked van was stopped. The jeep was thrown into park and Brad hopped out, stumbling a bit before he recovered himself. He tucked the keys into his pocket and began circling the building. He passed a few locked garage doors and vast white walls with no windows or doors before he finally found one almost all the way around from where he had started.

Standing before the door, Brad decided there was nothing else to do but knock. He balled his hand into a fist and brought it against the door a few times, but the sound it made was rather underwhelming. It seemed the door was insulated against the heat of the outside and sound as well. Grimacing, Brad brought his arm back and swung even harder in an effort to be louder, but the physical exertion threw him off his precarious center of balance. He wobbled and fell onto his knees, sliding against the door before slumping to the ground.

Brad chuckled a bit as the gravity of his situation started to sink in. He was in the middle of a desert at a strange warehouse and he was so drunk that he was about to pass out... But as strange as that all was, it was beautiful in a way. Brad blinked a bit, looking out across the vast stretches of parched land, watching the sun rise. It was almost icy cool with just the slightest tingling of new heat. Brad smiled a bit, but his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out, his body struggling to process all the booze he had flooded his system with.

****

Brad awoke with a gasp, a cough and then a groan. His head immediately started aching and his eyes felt like cooked tomatoes. They didn't feel any better as he opened them, a wave of blinding pain hitting him before he squeezed his eyes shut again. After a moment he blinked slowly and opened them again, trying to adjust. The first thing that came into view was a water painting... a water painting of a purple flower on the edge of a lake. Brad grew slowly confused. He didn't have any water colors...

The jock slowly sat up and looked at the rest of the wall, seeing more paintings resting on white backdrops in silver frames on an off-white wall. There was a light wood night stand with a cream colored lamp by the bed he was on and a plain looking dresser on the far side of the room, but the accommodations lacked anything personal. They seemed completely sterile and uniform, almost like a hotel room.

Brad tried to figure out where the blinding light had come from and he turned, looking over the headboard of his bed to the window that was behind it. The window gave a great view of the desert stretching out as far as the eye could see. Brad swallowed a bit, starting to remember parts of the previous night. That Indian kid had been talking about spirit quests. Had he been foolish enough to try going on one?

Brad slowly moved to step out of bed but stopped as soon as he swung his legs out, still feeling dizzy and a bit sore. He groaned and flopped back into bed, laying there for a long moment. He tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together, swearing never to get that drunk again. It was during his oath that there was a gentle knock at the white door to his room. Brad looked up warily.

"Come... Come in?" he asked hesitantly. The door clicked and eased open, allowing a man in his mid to late twenties to enter. He had long black hair tied into a loose ponytail that hung over his shoulders. His chin was pointed and his cheek bones well angled. The man had almost an elfin quality to his appearance, but the most defining features had to be his eyes. They were the most intense shade of violet Brad had ever seen.

"How are you feeling Brad? Any better?" The man asked, entering the rest of the way with a tray of food. There was toast with marmalade, bacon, eggs, sausage, orange juice and tea. It was a breakfast fit for a king.

"Uh, I guess so? But I don't... I don't really remember anything." Brad said softly. The man nodded.

"I suspected as much. You were quite... inebriated when you showed up at the door this morning." He said, setting the tray of food down on the night stand.

"Sorry, I... It was a Friday night." Brad said, as if that might possibly be an acceptable excuse. The man chuckled at that.

"Well, since your memory has finally kicked in, let me introduce myself again. My name is Doctor Julian. You wound up at my facility. It's alright though, I'm a medical doctor. I'll make sure you're okay." Julian said, reaching out to rub Brad's cheek. Brad tried to lean away from the hand, finding cheek strokes from another guy to be really weird, but as Julian's hand touched his skin he felt oddly comforted, like everything really was going to be okay. A great sense of relaxation washed over him and he smiled a bit weakly. Julian smiled at that.

"I guess you already know my name... Did I introduce myself?" Brad murmured.

"Sadly, no. When you passed out we checked your ID, saw your name that way." Julian said.

"Ah... Wait, we?" Brad asked. Julian smiled again.

"It wouldn't be much of a laboratory with just one worker." Julian replied. Brad nodded at that, looking over at his food and then at the doctor that had made him feel so oddly right, though he noticed he was feeling woozy again.

"I know it's a bit of a weird request, but... I'm worried I might pass out again or something if I eat alone. Is there a way I can eat with you guys?" Brad asked. Julian considered before nodding.

"That should work, Damon would like that." Julian smiled.

****

It took a bit of doing, but Brad was able to get up out of bed and follow after Julian. He still felt pretty sick, but Julian explained that he had nearly died from alcohol poisoning. Brad felt sheepish about that, knowing he was too young to drink in the first place. He followed Julian through the halls of the building, getting a glance of a large work space with strange chambers before they turned and moved into a rather conventional cafeteria. The floor was tiled, the walls plastered and the cabinets and drawers were all a pale blue. It reminded Brad of his dad's break room at work.

Julian moved to set the tray down, but Brad stopped as he saw another person in the room... Though from the size of him Bread wondered for a moment if he was really jus a man. Standing at six foot two with a mane of blood red hair and a beard worthy of a viking was apparently Julian's co-worker He looked every bit like he could be a wrestler on television with his thick muscled arms and powerful legs. He wore a sleeveless t-shirt but he had on leather gloves at the same time. Brad stood there dumbfounded for a long moment, staring at the man.

"Brad, this is Damon, my partner." Julian introduced.

"Hey." Damon said, looking the new guy over with inquisitive eyes.

"You're a doctor?" Brad asked, unaware of how rude it sounded.

"Lab assistant..." Damon replied.

"Brad, you better get to eating. You are protein starved and your blood sugar levels aren't going to stay up much longer." Julian explained.

"Yeah, he's the doctor." Damon smirked, moving over to get more food. Brad went to the table and sat down, looking at all the food before him. It was an amazing spread, though he still felt pretty ill. He decided to start with the toast, though he eyed the tea specutively.

"Got any coffee?" Brad asked.

"Actually we're out, but I think you'll find this blend helps you more anyhow." Julian said, sipping his own tea. Damon set down two more trays of food before sitting down next to Julian. Brad was half way through his toast before he noticed Damon's arm muscles flexing a bit. He followed the shape of his arm and then where it looked like it was going under the table. His eyebrows slowly rose as he realized it was quite likely that Damon was groping Julian beneath the table. Brad wasn't sure why, but that almost turned him on as much as it disgusted him. In fact... He was becoming well aware of his cock as it grew harder in his pants, snaking its way to full erection.

"Don't forget your eggs." Damon suggested, his voice deep and powerful.

"So how long have you two known each other?" Brad asked, trying to make conversation. Julian and Damon exchanged looks for a moment before they smiled.

"Seems like forever... But what about you? College student?" Julian asked.

"Yeah, Freshman. Not sure what I want to study yet. Just getting the requirements out of the way." Brad said, though he knew in truth he wasn't likely to make it through the semester. If his grades got bad enough he'd lose all financial aid and his place in the college. As he sobered up he wondered if all the partying had been worth it.

He looked at the other two though and wondered if it was possible to have a cool job in the desert and still look like some sort of Viking beast., "Though maybe I want to go into organic chemistry or something. Do you, uh, take interns?" Brad asked. Julian looked a bit surprised at that but grinned more.

"Actually, we do... And I am rather excited to hear that. We're always looking for people to help out with our research." Julian said. Brad smiled at that and lifted his tea, bringing it to his lips before he tipped it back.

The amber fluid spilled over his lips and tongue before sliding down a throat used to beer. The taste was odd, musky and spicy with an earthy taste to it. It almost seemed a little thick and oily, but it tasted so oddly soothing to his stomach. He took a gulp, then another, then another. He groaned gently and drank more and more until the mug was empty. He sat there, panting for breath, looking at the others with stunned confusion before he suddenly belched. As the gas left his stomach, a rumbling spread through the rest of his body, rooting in on his cock. He gasped and moaned as his already hard erection started to lift up, making a severe tent in his pants.

"Do you have... any more... of that tea?" he murmured.

"Damon, be a dear and get him some more." Julian whispered. Damon nodded and got up, moving to the fridge. With his broad back aimed at their guest, Brad couldn't see that Damon was pouring the tea out of a beaker rather than a pitcher. Damon brought the pitcher back and set it down in front of Brad and the jock picked it up with both hands, tipping it back, letting it spill into his mouth with such eagerness that amber beads rolled out and down onto his short cropped goatee. He gulped and drank and drooled, and soon his hard cock began to drool as well. The wet spot started spreading from the groin of his pants, but it wasn't the only wet spot.

Just as Julian had promised, the tea made Brad feel better... mostly. The generalized feelings of illness ebbed around his head and shoulders, but his legs felt hot and sweaty, clammy and feverish - so much so that they started to sweat. The sweat soaked into the pants, making them wetter and wetter, but there seemed to be no end in sight even as the pants grew soggy. In fact, Brad felt so feverish on his lower extremities that it was almost like his sweat was burning hot. While it wasn't warm, the sweat was changing... and slowly his pants started to dissolve.

Brad drained the last of the second cup of tea and clunked the glass down onto the table, staring bleary eyed in no direction in particular at first. It took a few moments though before he realized how horny he felt... and how drunk he felt. He blinked a few times before looking at the two people before him and then down at his pants. The jock's eyes widened as he saw how fat the tent of his pants had become and the huge wet spot. He could practically see sperm pushing through the fabric, oozing down his leg... though there were bleach like stains in his pants now and they were spreading.

"What... the fuck did you do to me?" Brad murmured.

"You said you wanted to study organic chemistry. Now is your chance... Just think of the learning opportunities." Julian said, standing up, "For instance, did you know that your body's PH is changing? I'd avoid salt if you can manage though." Julian said. Brad pushed his chair back and tried to stand up, but his legs felt like rubber beneath him. He made it a few staggering feet before he collapsed onto his knees, but even they felt oddly soft.

The short lived escape tore scraps of his pants apart and more pieces fell off like leaves shedding from a tree, revealing more and more of his squishy, wet legs. Just like the bleach stains on his pants, there were splotches on his skin. The splotches on the front side of his legs were a sandy tan color while the splotches on the black were a darker brown, spreading inch by inch.

Brad looked down at himself in horror, wondering if he was melting, dissolving into goo. He tried to crawl away on his knees but his pace was pathetic, inching along, leaving a trail of slime behind him. His skin felt soft and tender and soon his legs started sticking together. At first there were just strings of goo connecting between them, but as the strings grew tighter, the flesh itself started to knit together. The skin around his knees melded and then the seam between the legs started to disappear, moving down toward his feet and up toward his groin.

In a feeble, desperate attempt, Brad kept crawling. Soon he couldn't separate his legs and he managed only to shift his weight from side to side like rotating a chair on its legs, but even that became more difficult. The seam crept up from his knees, his thighs growing together and fusing before the flesh made it all the way up behind his ball sack. Despite his best wishes, Brad stopped for a moment, a shiver running down his spine. His balls felt oddly at home resting on a slimy apron of flesh, and Brad realized that's just what it was.

The jock sat there on the floor, his toes going numb. The digits were coated in a layer of transparent slime and it almost seemed as if they grew unspecific, blurry and muddled before the flesh grew together as well... and steadily the bones began to soften. The calcium was depleted, the bone ebbing away. The marrow was converted into muscles and fluid pockets, glands and ducts. The end of his feet had become the tip of a tail, and the edges of what had been his legs started to become frilled. Brad's attempts to move resulted in a rippling of tiny fin like triangles of squishy brown flesh.

Brad grunted and strained, starting to get some success as the flippers grabbed onto the floor and he began to ooze forward. Brad felt oddly accomplished, heavily drunk, horny and scared. He inched along as the brown on his tail became more uniform, covering from the tip of his tail up to his waist evenly, fading into the Nevada tan that covered his back. The underside of his tail was lighter, that squishy sand color, secreting copious amounts of slime.

Damon and Julian watched the jock change. Damon reached to undo his pants, unzipping and reaching in, fondling around before he drew out a cock that was far from human. The tip was tapered to a point, the entire rod was bright red and the base was half swollen into a canine knot. Damon started to jack himself off, panting softly, groaning. He got so into it that claws pushed through his gloves and his moaning mouth revealed fangs. Julian grinned wide, loving to see his lover so happy, but he was still a scientist.

Julian got out his iPad and started documenting the changes, catching up from the start of breakfast to where they were, documenting all of the events and details. He was clinical about it despite his own erection, watching Brad try to escape at a futile snail's pace. Brad struggled and pushed, making more progress... at least until he felt his back seize up. Every muscle in his body tightened into a vice like pain. Brad groaned out as his eyes squeezed shut. He slumped forward onto his elbows, panting hard before his back arched.

While all the calcium had been leeched from his bones, his body becoming far simpler, the calcium had mixed with excess carbon in his body, making a new chemical... a harder chemical. It began extruding out of his back, leaking through his pores before it hardened like a brown plastic oil slick. The sheet built up inch by inch, thickening most at the top. It curved up like a wave frozen in place, almost like brown glass. The crest arched up along his spine before curving away again, making almost a hoop, but that hoop was starting to fill in. The secretions poured out of him, growing in natural splendor almost like a crystal formation in time lapse. The weight build up on him more and more, heaviest and thickest at the edges. The shape weighed on Brad, but it felt oddly right.

While most of the jock's lower body had become soft and boneless, he felt the tangible presence of his forming shell. It felt right and amazing, it felt heavy and liberating. It felt like it gave him shelter. Brad felt the odd blissful euphoria filling him again and slowly he lifted his head and shoulders, then his torso. He sat there on the cafeteria floor as his shell filled in, the size of a living room chair.

As the shell hardened, patterns began emerging. Thee were spirals and splotches, flecks and shapes. It almost seemed like there was a copper metal flake in his shell, shining out through the earthy brown. Brad panted hard, feeling the sensation ebb. The cramping, the heat, the pain all faded until there was just a pleasant, steady weight on his spine.

The euphoria lasted for several moments, but then the fear started to return. Brad knew what was happening. He was turning into a snail. He had to go get help, he had to escape. Once more he started to squirm towards the door, sliding along. He saw it inching ever closer, bringing him towards freedom. He felt like he might actually make it, but he didn't realize that the escape that had taken him almost a full minute to effect took Damon seconds to cross. Damon came up beside the snail man and knelt down. Brad tried to push him away, but Damon was too strong.

"Leave me along you freak, I- I-" Brad stopped dead as his cock was held. Damon wrapped his clawed, gloved hands around the slimy, fat man shaft jutting out before the snail. He began pumping his hand forward and back, sliding it up and down, feeling it grow. Brad sat there in stone stillness, feeling his horniness reach levels he'd never before felt. His cock swelled to nine inches long, then ten and eleven. It also felt far fatter. The foreskin stretched out, resting over more of the mushroom shaped head but the cock itself swelled to six inches thick, looking inordinately fat compared to its length.

Brad began drooling slowly as his cock was worked, unaware that his balls were hanging lower or that his stomach was gurgling. In a few short months as a freshman, Brad had gotten a little bit of a beer belly... but that belly was starting to swell dramatically, bloating outward and rounding. Just above the start of his brown slimy tail, the stomach was still covered in a dusting of manly hair, the hair seeming more sparse as his stomach grew as round as a melon. The belly jutted out forward, but it was doing more than growing. It was changing and shifting. New organs and ducts were forming, something was filling that flesh... and as they formed, they started to move.

"I can feel something." Damon said. Julian nearly did a happy dance, lifting the iPad to record the process. Brad's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt his cock pulsing like the mot intense orgasm he'd ever had in his life. It pushed and pushed and flexed, the muscles trembling. Brad leaned back, laying against his shell, unable to do anything but accept the pleasure coursing through his body. His cock visibly flexed and shuddered before it bulged out at the base, rounding around a large ovoid shape.

The muscles pushed and rested, pushed and rested, and then pushed again. Brad inhaled sharply as his urethra began stretching, but just like the squishy, slimy flesh of his tail, it was far stretchier. The gap opened up wider and wider before a soft, translucent egg began to appear. The egg was squished a little by the tight passage, but it erupted out of the cock along with a flood of clear goo. It landed on the floor and slid a few inches away, followed shortly after by another egg, then a third.

Brad couldn't explain why it felt so good, but it was the most glorious thing he'd felt in his life. It was like a cross between having an orgasm and letting out the biggest poop of his life, right through his cock. The eggs kept popping out and with each one Brad felt more proud, more special and more addicted to the feeling. He slowly brought one hand down to feel his own cock as he pushed out the eggs, stroking his rod along with Damon, panting in a lustful delirium.

He slowly turned and looked at the man and to his surprise, Damon leaned in. Their lips met and that red beard wrapped around his face in a tight embrace. Brad's lips were forced open and a tongue invaded, thrusting in and out almost like a cock. Brad sucked on that tongue obediently, feeling the furry face against his, cumming even harder. A pile of translucent eggs were building up before him, but after twelve eggs the orgasm stopped producing the shapes. The flood slowed and Damon broke the kiss, leaving Brad sitting there in his own slime with his unfertilized eggs.

Brad stared down at the eggs he had produced, at his huge, fat cock, at his slimy tail and the slime all around him. The euphoria persisted for a few moments but the shock of it all hit his system at once. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slowly went limp, sagging forward. Despite his body relaxing completely, the weight of his shell kept him upright so he only seemed to lean forward.

****

It felt early... earlier than Brad was used to waking up, that much he could tell even before he tried to lift his heavy head. His eyes slowly opened and he saw long streaks of morning light spilling across the floor of the warehouse laboratory. The van had been pulled in and the back doors were open. Brad slowly lifted up, finding his lower extremities far more flexible.

The jock blinked and yawned a bit, looking out at the van, his eyes widening in shock as he saw a twenty year old with a kangaroo tail and feet loading up crates into the back of the van, wearing a hoodie with a big pouch on the front. The driver of the van looked almost normal, but in the climbing sunlight there was a colorful sheen to his skin almost like snake scales. Brad tried to turn, but realized there was a frame around where he was resting... a frame holding a perfectly clear pane of glass that he'd been looking through. He was in one of the chambers.

"It's the fuckin' island of Doctor Moroe..." Brad whispered.

"Doctor Julian actually." Julian explained, coming around the side of the cell, setting down a small stool before sitting across from Brad, "I do apologize for forcing this gift on you, and for using you as a test subject without your permission, but I assure you it is for the greater good."

"The greater good? How can you just... put it that way? How can you justify this?" Brad asked. Julian gave a crooked smile at that.

"How do you want me to justify it? I can do it a lot of ways. When you showed up on my doorstep you had consumed a lethal amount of alcohol. You would have died. Human physiology just can't take that kind of abuse. You needed a better metabolism, a better immune system. Speaking of which, your immune system was also weak. By all likelihood, you wouldn't have made it past the age of fifty..." Julian said.

"How do you know that?" Brad murmured.

"Immunology is at the heart of my research. It is what allows some people to be changed, like you, and others to be stuck the way they are... like me." Julian said, though his constancy of smiles seemed to be less present at that particular detail. He looked back at Brad, "It felt good, didn't it?" Julian asked. Brad blushed a bit at that.

"Y... yeah." He muttered.

"And you get to feel that over and over again, as much as you want for the rest of your life." Julian replied.

"Where, in a cage? Eating salad out of a feeding trough?" Brad asked. Julian smirked softly at that.

"You've already seen that I give opportunities to those that support me. Jobs, internships, training. It's a shot at a real future, one that the University was about ready to deny you." Julian replied.

"But what about my friends? My family?" Brad asked, "What if I escaped to go see them?"

"You could try... But you're in the middle of a desert spanning more than one state... and you're a snail. I don't think you'd get very far. I won't lie, there are big costs involved in this, I have taken a lot from you, but I can give a lot in return." Julian said.

"What can you give me?" Brad asked, crossing his arms before his bloated belly.

"Well, for starters, someone to share this life with. No experiment is successful without replication. The species of snail you have become is hermaphroditic. Your eggs need another to fertilize, and you in turn could do the same for another, assuming that cross breeding is even possible. Even if it isn't, I'm pretty sure that they hold the key to ending several types of cancer and killing several viruses." Julian said.

While everything the doctor had said was well and good, Brad hadn't made It much past the concept of getting someone to share it with, a partner, another person. The idea horrified him on the one hand. Would they kidnap someone else? Change them against their will, give them to him like a present? But on the other hand it was a major turn on... Having a guy to snuggle up with and cum out eggs together. Brad's eyes widened at that. Hadn't he been straight? Why was the idea of a guy snail so hot? But he couldn't deny the feeling. His cock began drooling again at the idea. He knew he couldn't escape, he couldn't do anything but make his life better any way he could.

"Y... yes, I want that, I really want that." Brad whispered. Julian gave a happy nod at that.

****

A soft groan filled the cell, the groan of its newest occupant. Christopher slowly blinked, his honey brown eyes opening up. His lips felt sticky and wet, his mustache a little soggy from drooling in his sleep. He looked around and then paused, realizing he was in a glass cell. He looked down and saw the floor was covered in leaves and straw and there was a wide bin full of vegetables, almost like a salad bar... but what he saw next was far stranger.

Christopher's perfectly fit stomach had stretched and bloated out into a round belly resting above his huge, fat, stretched cock... and a slimy brown underbelly. He tried to look over his shoulders and saw a glossy black shell like liquid obsidian frozen into a solid state. He began to pant, gasp and panic... but then there was movement. Christopher turned, seeing Brad sliding over to him, his body changed in just the same way.

"Brad, what the hell is going on? Did I die? I... I thought I was in bed, then this furry red monster... I thought it was a nightmare, I-" Christopher was cut off as a finger came to his lips. Brad held it there for a moment before pulling it back, leaning in instead for a kiss. Christopher's face paled in shock as he was kissed, but there was something about the taste of those slimy lips, the feel of his coarse goatee...

Despite his best judgment, Christopher slowly started to open his lips to the kiss, feeling the jock's body press against his. He'd thought Brad had been a bit arrogant and racist, naïve of the way things were... but now he wondered if the man had a bit of a romantic side to him. The two deepened their kiss as their bodies began to press, including their hard, fat cocks. They rubbed and ground and soon Chris felt a hot rush of slime down his front... and then a squishy round egg sliding down in that slime.

Chris cussed into the kiss and looked down, watching Brad spray eggs all over his front side. Brad tried to feel horrified, but instead he felt hornier than hell. His head tipped back, he groaned and soon he started to orgasm in direct response. His cock bloated and he could see the egg creeping up through his shaft, stretching the head out before popping out with a gush of fluids... and soon enough it was happening again. Each pop brought a huge wave of relief like a hit of a drug, but Brad was far more excited.

Brad wondered what would happen now... Two snails, two batches of eggs, their semen. Would they get fertilized? Had they just made snail man babies? Brad didn't know, but he felt excited to find out... He pressed his lips back to Christopher's face, kissing him more wildly, sucking on the lip before plunging his tongue in and out. He wondered briefly what his life would have been like without Doctor Julian, but then he remembered that he would have died. He'd been given a second chance, and it was certainly an interesting one. Brad swore to himself that he'd be more careful with his new life, taking things as they came... at a snail's pace.