FSE

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The two men grunted and groaned, their grips tightening out of necessity, muscles screaming with effort. "It's coming out!" Simon warned, muscles tightened, knuckles almost white as his crotch ground into Peter's ass.

"Yeah, I can feel it too," Peter agreed, body starting to tremble from the effort as Simon rocked up against his rear. They both strained, sweat pouring from their skin. They'd been going at it for hours, but now he could feel that they were getting close.

Suddenly, they both moaned together in surprise; their bodies fell backwards against each other, collapsing into a shape resembling a crushed spider as the large metal grating finally had become loosened enough to slide with a loud metallic whine from the crumbly concrete. "Shit!" Simon swore quickly, Peter's dark-haired head slamming into his chin as his weight and that of the grating pushed the air from his lungs. His back spasmed in pain as it slammed into the hard paved ground behind him; he was glad, and not for the first time that day, that he'd insisted on picking up some proper overalls before they'd started.

Simon didn't feel he could complain though; it had been his idea to buy the small bit of farmland out in the middle of nowhere, and he'd been the one curious about what was behind the rusty old grating. He really shouldn't have involved Peter, but his husband had insisted on going along in case something happened to him, and you couldn't really argue with common sense like that.

"You alright?" Peter asked, panting as he lay on top of Simon.

Simon mumbled, "Mmhmm," in response. He did feel a bit sore - probably had a few cuts and bruises - but he knew he'd get over it quickly. "Let's get this thing off of us first though." He was actually quite pleased; neither of them was particularly strong, but with a bit of ingenuity and effort they'd removed the grating, and nobody had gotten too hurt.

Carefully shifting their hands to avoid jabbing themselves with the rusty ends of the thick solid metal rods that made up the latticework of the grating, Simon and Peter shifted it over to their side, Peter rolling out of the way as Simon gave it a final push. The grating clanged; half on the concrete still around the outside of the hole that had been somewhat sealed up, half lying in the damp, wet grass. The rain had at least given them a temporary reprieve this morning, but the clouds still threatened to soak them before they could get back to the cute brick farmhouse they'd bought together.

They'd come reasonably prepared: aside from the gloves and overalls they wore, and the jackhammer they'd had fun trying to get to work to break up the edges of the concrete around the grating, they brought torches. Peter shoved one into Simon's hand as he rolled onto his booted feet. "You don't have to come with me, you know," Simon reiterated.

"Something bad might happen to you," Peter insisted. "Nobody would be around to hear you."

"I'm not planning on going in far," Simon mumbled, not really wanting to argue. It would be fun to have Peter along, having a little "adventure". That had been the point of buying this property, after all, and an unexplained grating not mentioned in any of the documents or maps they'd seem when going through the huge rigmarole of buying the property seemed like a good setting for an adventure.

Aiming his torch into the dark tunnel, Peter noted, "It seems pretty damp in there."

"That's what the gumboots are for," Simon explained, pulling off the laced boots and slipping his freed feet into the rubbery wellingtons.

Peter poked out his tongue in disgust, "They're very uncomfortable."

"Oh, just man up, you gay baby," Simon admonished, glaring with false disapproval. They were uncomfortable - in his experience, the lip would cut into the flesh of your shin just above the boot - but the material of the overalls was quite thick, mitigating that a lot.

Once they'd swapped footwear, Simon picked his flashlight back up, taking the lead as they sloshed through the stagnant water that had collected in the sloping floor of the tube. It stank, of course; thankfully not of the stench of old rotting flesh or human waste - if that had been the case, the adventure would have been over before it even got started - but a general old, damp grossness you'd find in any place that had been left to the elements for decades.

Deeper in the tube, moss grew over the cracked concrete slopes, as it opened up into a maze of dark, slightly-flooded chambers and rusty ladders that led into watery depths. "I wonder if this was a nuclear bunker at some stage," Peter wondered as their flashlight beams twisted this way and that.

"Maybe," Simon replied, "it certainly smells like it's been closed up since the seventies-eighties."

"We should go back," warned Peter. "There's probably a lot of mould down here, or fungal spores..."

"I didn't really expect it to be this wet," Simon apologised. "I was pretty sure the water table was supposed to be below this level. Then again, it probably rains here a lot, and with all the recent floods-"

With a loud splash, Simon suddenly found himself surrounded by dark water, flailing about. His heart thumped in his chest as he gagged for air. "Think!" he quickly admonished himself, taking a second to calm before pulling himself upwards. The water dragged him down, but it was enough; his hand broke through the surface, and soon Peter was yanking his wet, coughing body out of the water.

"I'm alright," Simon wheezed, still out of breath from having been submerged. His teeth chattered, at least when he wasn't coughing up water. Dark mud streaked through his face, and his boots sloshed, still full of water.

"What happened?" Peter asked, patting him on the back.

"I - I guess my foot slipped?" Simon guessed. Wiping his face, he took a look at where he'd been standing. He remembered vaguely trying to avoid the hole: there had once been a ladder leading down that had long-since rusted away that led down into some chamber. He'd been about to tell Peter to watch out for it before he fell. The moss had grown quite thick in this area, he gathered that that was what must have caused him to fall into the hole.

"I think the 'adventure' is over," Peter remarked. "We should go back, you'll get sick or something. Not that it's the cold that makes you sick, but..."

"Yeah, okay," Simon agreed. He was already feeling a little hot, and his wet clothes were incredibly heavy. Sitting by the fire in their newly-purchased fireplace did sound like a particularly good idea right about now. "Just - just give me a minute to recover."

With Peter sitting beside him - he'd leaned on to Simon until quickly realising snuggling someone soaked to the bone wasn't the best idea - Simon imagined watching the logs slowly being eaten by the fireplace, curling up naked under a blanket, feeling the warmth pulsing through his body. Even imagining it seemed to warm him. Peter could snuggle up next to him; he would need to stay extra warm, after all, and there weren't many better ways to keep your lover warm than rubbing up against each other's bodies.

Inside the rubber boots, Simon's feet throbbed, feeling swollen as the water sloshed about. He wanted to take them off, but he didn't even have the energy left to ask Peter to do it for him. It wouldn't be a good idea to walk around barefoot anyway, and once he took the wellingtons off, he doubted he'd want to put them on again.

Besides, Simon had other distractions; thinking about Peter and him being naked under a blanket together had started arousing him, as he imagined Peter's pale skin turning golden and shadowy in the light of the fire, laying on top of the blanket, his legs spread in invitation, his thick, long cock eager to be touched and tasted. His eyes - the only part of Simon's body with the energy to move - turned towards his husband, imagining what he'd look like if he were to take off his overalls. The idea made the tingling of his flesh increase, as his heart, having slowed down now that the danger to his life had passed, started to pound again, Simon's cock twitching and thickening in his soaked underwear. What little energy he did have seemed to be going into making him very horny, very quickly.

"What?" Peter asked, noticing Simon's stare. Putting his hand up to Simon's forehead, Peter announced, "Ow! You're burning up, Simon! I think you should go to a doctor."

"I think you should get naked," thought Simon, sat sprawling on the ground. With a burst of energy, he moved his booted foot slightly, letting the edge rest under the surface of the dark water. Cold water rushed in to replace the warm water surrounding his foot, the "freshness" feeling good against his swelling legs. His cock wormed its way out of the front of his boxers - admittedly, they were old, loose ones he'd worn since he'd expected to get dirty - and its head rubbed against the inner lining of his overalls.

"I'm fine," Simon mumbled once he realised he needed to actually say something. He was feeling better: not only was he aroused - he could almost taste the salty, sticky liquid dripping slowly out of the tip of his cock - but the cold water sloshing around in his boots was invigorating. He did feel quite warm, despite having been plunged into cold water only a few minutes ago; Simon chalked it up to his fever and arousal combining to heat his whole body up.

Peter responded doubtfully, "You clearly aren't; I can hear you breathing from here. We should head back." He got up from beside Simon, placing the flashlight on the ground. Straddling his husband's legs that rested in the water, he reached his arms down to help Simon get to his feet.

"No!" Simon exclaimed. It immediately felt wrong: going outside, at least while it was daylight. The flashlight had started to bother his eyes, but didn't want Peter to worry about it. He couldn't really explain to Peter what he really wanted to do was strip off and let the cold water run all over his body. Preferably with Peter doing the Simone; it didn't help that Peter's crotch was in line with his eyes. But Simon knew Peter wouldn't let him do that; he didn't want him to go, but he needed time to come up with a plan. His brain grasped for something to tell him. "The bike!" he exclaimed. "Do you think you could drive it up to the opening?"

Peter shrugged, "I don't know, I guess so?" They had bought a quad bike when they'd secured the property; neither of them had a driver's license, and Simon was familiar enough with driving the latter to figure one would be a sound investment for travelling quickly around their property with heavy equipment. Peter, however, had only gotten the basic instructions on how to control one from Simon so far, and by his tone Simon could tell he wasn't sure.

"Just take it slowly," Simon rebuffed encouragingly. "Don't worry about the jackhammer, we can pick it up later. It'll save me from having to walk farther."

"Uh, okay then," Peter replied. He hadn't brought his glasses - Simon believed they'd have gotten broken - and Simon guessed Peter was probably nervous driving around without them. Reluctantly, he moved to go, Simon handing him the flashlight, which Peter constantly turned to see if he was still alright.

Eventually though, Peter had moved far enough that Simon was no longer in range of his sight. Even so, Simon waited, holding his breath for a couple of minutes, before he started to move. The first things to go were the gloves; his fingers had started digging into the leather, and they were starting to hurt. Clamping his jaw shut, Simon pulled one off, the loosened skin beneath coming away with them. What was left was pale, slightly rough skin covered with tiny tears, particularly around the nails; those had darkened, growing longer and sharper, bits of the inner lining of the gloves stuck between them and the flesh of the increasingly-webbed digits.

The next were the boots; Simon had felt his feet swelling inside them, so using his claws he pierced the rubber, tearing holes in them. He accidentally jabbed one foot; fortunately for him, his teeth were still clamped shut, and the skin had already toughened a lot more there. Grunting with effort, he tore off the outer shell of the wellingtons; the skin had already completely sloughed off his feet as they soaked in the water. Remnants of sodden socks still clung around his ankles. The feet that came out were covered in dark, hard scales, having torn through the layers of skin as the muscles and bones swelled in the water. Large talons grew from each of the long, webbed toes that wriggled about in the air, freshly released.

Simon sighed: even just getting his hands and feet free had been very relaxing. Forgetting he'd meant to stay quiet, he quickly hooked his shaking fingers to the zipper of his overalls. The water-logged white t-shirt he'd worn underneath clung to his skin, showing off the dark hairs that still bristled out of his chest. Even still, as his body shifted around, he could sense the tears in increasingly deeper layers of his skin. Getting to his feet with a half-tired, half-relieved groan, Simon let the overalls fall down his body, his aching, sticky cock swelling flopping about in the musky air.

Suddenly, his ears perked up; the dulled rumble of the quad bike's engine had stopped; Simon didn't have much time left. Hastily, he pulled his thickened legs out of the bottom; no mean feat as he had to navigate his clawed toes around them. Moments before he heard the sloshing footfall of Peter approaching, he scampered away, deeper into the dark tunnel.

At first, Simon couldn't really tell where he was going. He stumbled repeatedly - his altered feet weren't great for running, and the ground was wet and slippery - and he couldn't hear much over the dulled splashing of his feet and could see even less. He heard Peter calling out for him, feeling a brief pang of anguish at abandoning him, before he fell, once again, into a dark, water-filled chamber.

This time, however, Simon didn't struggle or panic. Instead, he felt the water soak into him, seeming to relax him. He'd always enjoyed swimming, and as he kicked his legs about, getting used to the extra power his webbed digits gave him, he suddenly felt re-energized. His warm body made increasingly powerful strokes, although some of those involved him crashing into walls.

Simon had been having such a fun time getting back into swimming - Peter didn't know how to swim, and there weren't a lot of pools he could use, so he hadn't done it much - that he hadn't realised he'd not taken a breath for quite some time. His lungs weren't screaming for air; in fact, he felt far more relaxed now than he had been outside of the water. It felt good; even the muck in the water didn't seem too bad. He sucked it in as he opened his mouth; suddenly, he had a hungering for meat.

Powering through the dark water, Simon tried to orient himself. He needed to find his way back, he had to let Peter know that he was alright, and was having a good time. It took some time, but he managed to find the hole. Getting out, however, proved tricky; he pushed and squeezed, but frustratingly, his shoulders didn't seem to want to bend the right way now to fit into the hole. His stomach rumbled; he hoped Peter would make fish for them tonight.

Clawing at the opening in frustration, Simon turned, methodically checking the ceilings and walls of the flooded chamber for opening. He swung his arms, shooting through an old doorway into another room. Briefly tasting the water suggested this was the one he'd fallen into earlier. Above him, he could vaguely hear Peter calling out. A beam of light scanned about in the dark. Simon's cock, floating about in the water, started to become aroused again.

Rubbing his body along the slimy walls, Simon started to squeeze through the gap. It was tight - he wondered how he'd managed to fall through it in the first place - but he made it through, breaching the surface. Peter turned, screaming in shock as he pulled himself out of the water.

Swimming in the contaminated water had hastened Simon's transformation, which had gone unheeded as he'd swum. His broad shoulders drooped down, having to hunch over to stay face-to-face with his husband, grimy green scales covering his back while pale, yellowish ones lined his belly.

Clinging to the ground on all fours, Simon stared back at Peter, black eyes bulging, lightening slightly as thin membranes blinked over them. His tail - he hadn't even realised the long, thick appendage trailing behind him should have been a novelty - slipped out of the water, the tip splashing down.

Although he was having trouble thinking, Simon remembered Peter; or more specifically, remembered they had had sex before. Old emotions met with increasingly bestial instincts, and his throbbing red erection slipped out of his hole, the slick tentacle drooling fluid eagerly. His wide jaws opened, sharp teeth showing as he hissed out in excitement. They were going to fuck again, Simon knew; Peter had already turned around.

Simon pounced; Peter's body slammed into the water hard, shouting out in shock as the three-hundred pound fishman landed on his back, webbed fingers wrapping around his wrists. His tongue slid out, forked and covered with saliva which he used to slobber all over his mate. It just made sense to him: it felt like something he should do to get his made in the mood.

Peter continued to struggle as Simon brought his short snout down; his mate tasted wrong, he thought, guessing it was old skin he'd gotten stuck in while shedding. Realising he could be helpful, he raked his claws down, tearing through the overalls Peter was wearing, the rough fabric ripping into shreds. The claws traced down his back as Peter screamed, spluttering in the water.

Simon felt upset; his mate didn't seem to be enjoying this like he should. Comfortingly, he ran his tongue over the exposed flesh as he continued to rip off the overalls. He tasted salty and nervous: he needed to figure out what to do to make him more receptive. Vague memories filtered through his head, and his long tongue wormed its way up, sliding into Peter's armpit, wriggling around.

After a little while, Simon heard his mate start making a strange noise as he squirmed about, thrashing in the water. Old memories fired through his mind; keeping it up, he wriggled his tongue about, tickling Peter's armpit while the latter laughed and tried to cover itself up. A familiar noise registered in Simon's brain, and he looked down. The noise was repeated, and he shoved his flat face into Peter's chest when he turned over, his face muddy as he looked up curiously.

Peter reached up a hand, gently stroking Simon along his belly. Simon tilted up his head - it felt so good - and slapped Peter in between his legs with his dangling cock. Running his tongue over Peter's face, Simon felt the heat beginning to spread through. He splashed his tail down, a more recent, but potent, memory channeling through his mutated mind. He heard Peter's breathing slowing, getting deeper and louder.

Simon blinked, watching as Peter shimmied out of the remnants of his old skin. His cock squirted out more goo in excitement; his mate was starting to smell better, pheromones oozing out into the water that flowed around his increasingly bare body. Peter's hands reached up, touching Simon's enlarged, dripping cock; Simon's throat rattled in pleasure. His tongue slobbered over Peter's face, winding his cock around Peter's arms, coating them in his slime.

Lowering himself down slowly, Simon started to rub his shaft against Peter, thoughts slowed down even further as lust filled his body. All of his thought energy was in trying to find the nice, warm hole in his mate, the one he could slide his shaft into, squeezing in and pumping out his seed from the slits that dotted the end of his penile tentacle.

Feeling something press against his chest, Simon raised himself up a little, allowing Peter to get on his knees. Reaching down, he aimed the vibrant red tip near his hole. Simon immediately squirmed with delight, pushing down on his mate, wriggling his cock around, smearing it with the lubricating goo as he felt for the opening.

It didn't take long to find, but it took Simon longer to push in; Peter's ring was tight, and the nub of a tail that had formed at the base of his spine was getting in the way. But Simon's body already seemed to know to factor that in, as it squeezed in slowly and forcefully. His dick was naturally slippery and well lubricated; the only thing slowing him down was the progression allowed by his mate's body. He heard him yelp and moan, legs stretched out as he pushed his cock in deeper.

Under the combination of the water, and the more concentrated levels in Simon's fluids, Peter's body had already begun to transform, patches of scales showing through layers of torn, old human skin that quickly dried and shrivelled up. Peter's body burned hot - Simon could feel the heated blood pumping as he wormed a few more inches into the increasingly more pliable hole - and he bucked underneath his mate, digging into the slimy concrete with his expanding talons.

Simon pushed the tip of his cock around, hooking Peter as he crawled backwards, heading deeper into the caverns. He could be out of the water for long periods of time, but felt more comfortable inside it. Peter twisted underneath him, digging into his scales with his claws as Simon climbed backwards, using his tail as a guide as he tried to find the hole. Twisting his cock around, he lowered his mate in first - though Peter tried clinging on to his chest at first, only releasing when Simon made an angry rumbling noise - and awkwardly climbed in after.

As he slipped beneath the surface, Simon felt calmer. It didn't hurt that Peter's webbed feet were coiling around the base of his shaft, pulling more of his mate's cock inside of him. Simon felt him elongating, Peter's body lengthening; where he had become large and muscular, Peter was becoming lengthy and flexible. Half Simon's cock had disappeared into Peter's body; the rest throbbed in the water excitedly.

They somersaulted through the water, colliding uncaringly with the slimy walls: their toughened scales protected them from the worst of the rough edges, and their brains became increasingly distracted as the concentrations of their fluids increased in the water. Peter pulled himself all the way down Simon's shaft, rubbing up and down, claws digging into Simon's waist locking him in place. Peter's cock throbbed about, constantly squirting out fluids that clouded the water.

Simon reached down, stroking Peter's body as they sank to the dark floor. Peter twisted his cock around - it had grown longer to match his almost serpentine body - penetrating Simon's hole. Locked into the mating pattern for the strange species they had become, both orgasmed.

For Simon, what was left of his simple thoughts stopped completely; his whole body shuddered, cock stretching widely as it filled with his seed, pressure building up into his body before he emptied out into Peter. His own ass tingled, Peter's fluids entering him, thrusting in as he clung with his claws to Simon's underbelly. Simon swam them along mindlessly, cock shuddering every couple of seconds to unleash more fluids into Peter, while he did the Simone into Simon. The water about them grew cloudy.

When Simon recovered from his orgasm, all he felt was hungry and tired. Peter - having fallen asleep - was still attached by the combined penetration of their shafts in each other's holes. They would need food, he decided. Slowly, he swam through the water; he could smell the seed of him and his mate, but nothing nourishing. Exploring the water, he discovered the hole leading to the surface.

Climbing out of the water proved tricky, especially carrying his mate's extra weight, but Simon managed to do it without waking Peter. On all fours, he crawled along, sniffing the strange shiny thing and the bits that smelled like they could have been food, but his tongue told him otherwise. Creeping out along a tunnel heading up - following the strange chirping sound - Simon found himself outside. More sniffing and tasting suggested none of these things was particularly edible. Hissing in frustration, he ventured further out: it didn't feel right to be this far away from their den, but they would need food.

So Simon and Peter set off on another adventure.