FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Transformed & Sold

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Its_Brooke_Duh

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“Isn't this great?"

Matt grinned as he laid back on the beach, his hands behind his bed, wearing only a pair of swim shorts along with his friend, Carl. The two of them were quite similarly matched in build, though Carl's hair was a little darker, even if still blonde. Sometimes, they had been mistaken for relatives, though most wouldn't have gone quite so far as to call them brothers. There were limits to the resemblance, after all, despite how well they got on, Carl's cheekbones more pronounced than Matt's.

But they'd gotten along well for years and, finally, they were able to flake out and catch some rays, their pale skin warming. It had taken a long time to save up enough to get abroad, but it had all been worth it, even if the hotel right on the beach was not one that any of their friends had heard of.

Lazily, sleepily, Matt held up his phone to his ear, chatting to his girlfriend, Jenniefer, back home.

“I know, baby, but I'll be back soon, I promise," he said, Carl half-sitting up and glancing at him. “I know… I didn't think, I just wanted to hang with Carl, you know? We've been talking about getting away for so long. We'll go to the ski resort you like next season though, promise, I'll make it happen, Jenniefer."

To say that Jenniefer wasn't all that happy about being left behind was an understatement, but there was only so much Matt could do about that in hindsight. Carl brushed his bare foot against Matt's, his attention wavering, though it should not have made his guts churn in the way that it did.

Matt swallowed hard, trying to keep up with the conversation, though it was a lost cause by that point anyway. Jenniefer was annoyed at him for being away without her and there was nothing Matt could do about that – not unless he wanted to hop on a flight home straight away. He'd have to fix things later. Yet he sighed heavily, hanging up after a terse goodbye, wondering just how Carl always knew the right moment to take advantage of his little fetish.

Feet… Well, it was a common one and, to be fair to him, it did turn Matt's attention to something else, breath catching, running his fingers back through his hair just to cover it up. Carl was only doing it, however, to try to cheer him up, and his heart should not have pounded as hard as it did for it.

“What's wrong?"

Of course, Carl would ask that. He was always like that, nice Carl, the guy that everyone wanted to be friends with Carl – a good Carl.

“Ugh…" Matt shook his head, lips pressed together, though he did not seal his words behind them. “It's just Jenniefer, she wanted to go somewhere else this year, but I never knew. But we had to get away too, it can't only be about her and me… You've seen those couples that live their freaking lives in each other's back pockets – I don't want to be like that!"

It all spilt out, though all it took was Carl's hand on his arm to cool the edge of his temper, worry twisting with fret, though Matt knew there was nothing at all he could do about what had come to pass until he returned home. Carl's smile helped a little, blood roaring in Matt's ears, though he still caught his friend mouthing the words, “calm down".

As if anyone who had ever been told to be calm in the history of calm had ever actually “just calmed down"…

“Come on, I got us something… Here… Take it…"

Matt looked down at what Carl was trying to press into his hand, scooting across the blanket laid out on the white sands. He raised his eyebrow.

“A joint? Seriously?"

Carl grinned, holding a second up, though he kept it close to his body. It wasn't exactly legal in that country, after all.

“Yeah… Come on, it'll chill you out. Little else is right now."

Matt considered it. It was not as if he was averse to smoking weed and it was as harmless a drug as it could be – but that didn't change the fact that it was illegal there. He'd even looked it up beforehand just to be sure, though the sentences for possessing and using it were not listed online, which he'd found odd. But he had just not packed any to bring with him and not bothered trying to find out where he could score any from either, especially considering that any drug use was treated extremely harshly there.

Still…if he had it already… The joint tempted him.

“Alright, alright," he said, getting to his feet. “Let's go somewhere quieter though, there are too many people around on this beach to get away with something like that."

Carl leapt up with a grin, though the white expanse of sand stretching down to the foot of the cliffs and the blue-green water would have been a very nice spot indeed to light up. With too many people from the hotel there, the hotel's private beach, they'd be caught in a moment, unless they were more discreet with their inclinations.

Packing up their things, they headed along the edge of the beach, over the rocks that framed the limits of the hotel's property, Carl leading the way confidently as if he knew exactly where he was going. Matt didn't ask, though he covertly glanced down, getting away with sly look after look, watching how Carl's feet moved through and over the sand, fine grains sifting between the toes. The powdery, light sand even clung to the hairs on his toes, making Matt swallow hard, deliberately looking away.

Still, the thoughts entered his mind, dark and illicit, though he was sure that Carl would not have minded. He had been the one to start it all anyway, teasing him when he'd been on the phone. So it was that images of him with his face pressed up to Carl's feet, nibbling, teasing, licking and even sucking on his toes entered his mind, one imagining after the other leaving him hungrier and hungrier.

He trembled. How would it feel to have Carl nudging his feet up against his face? It already had him with a semi hard-on, a thickening in his swim trunks, though, thankfully, they were loose enough to ensure that his budding arousal was hidden, at least for the moment.

He shook his head. No, he wouldn't think like that, not if it was going to turn him on so much. But looking up the length of Carl's lean-ish, moderately built body didn't help either, slim enough to show a faint line of muscle, though he did not give the impression that he worked out either, he just was who he was. But how on earth did Carl get around being as handsome as he was? He had to get all the girls he wanted, surely, though Matt and he didn't too often talk about that sort of thing anymore.

Being out there, in another country, helped though, conversation moving as easily between them as the flow of their feet across the sand. He asked about Jenniefer, how things were going with her, even offering suggestions for what Matt could do to smooth things over when he was back home again, though Matt doubted that it would be that easy. He knew Jenniefer better than anyone else, though no one should ever have said that any relationship, truly, was smooth sailing.

He learned that Carl had been dating someone recently, during the time that they had not had anywhere near enough free time to hang out and, well…it hadn't ended well. He didn't much know what to say about that, though was at least glad that it meant that Carl still got to hang out with him on holiday. That was something, at least, though it didn't make it any easier for Carl, having only recently gone through that rough break up. Sometimes things didn't work out, yet Matt would forever be grateful for having Jenniefer in his life, despite their ups and downs.

Eventually, under the shade of some overhanging trees at the edge of the beach (they looked to be deciduous, though Matt wasn't clued up on the long fronds to tell), they found the perfect spot. It didn't have to be all that secluded, he was sure, only far enough away from other people, the general public, for them to not be noticed, for any passing person to be waved on their way without realising what they were doing.

They knew how to light up quickly, though it was, of course, Carl who had brought the lighters with him, a joint between each of their lips as they slowly inhaled, taking a hit whenever it pleased them. Sitting under the shade, looking out over the water in a little cove, they relaxed, tension slipping from their shoulders, moment by moment.

The tease of being high pulled at Matt, though it didn't feel right to go that quickly, to drift away, chuckling softly, breathily, as if he was merely doing it because he liked the feel of his mirth on his tongue. His attention drifted, no real conversation flowing between them – or, if there was, there was no chatter there that Matt would remember.

He did remember staring at Carl's feet, however, stretched out before him as he sat beside Matt, occasionally curling and stretching his toes, alternating between one or the other. The light flex had Matt's heart leaping and pounding, wanting to touch them, to feel the wiggle of Carl's feet against his face even then. But he was too far gone, taking another drag of weed, to even care about the fact that he was openly perving on his best friend while he had his girlfriend back home.

“Oh god…" Matt coughed, giggling into his hand. “Is this… Wait… Did you bring this with you?"

Carl grinned, blinking like a fool, though it took some time for the words to work their way through his head to his tongue.

“Noooo," he said slowly, dragging out the vowels. “I bought it here."

“Damn… It's strong… So strong…"

A lot stronger, in fact, than what they were used to – or perhaps just a very different strain, grown differently. Minutes passed, though did not quite become an hour, infatuated with the joints, though their eyes slid to one another again and again.

At some point, Carl slumped to the beach, no towel under his back, giggling softly while his shaft rose into an obvious boner, seen through his red swim trunks. Even if Matt had not been so turned on by him, he wouldn't have been able to avoid seeing it even if he'd wanted to. It just wasn't possible, not as he grew ever more turned on, birds that were foreign to him singing strange tunes in the trees, waves rolling in gently onto the shore.

Carl's eyes locked with his, his hand outstretched. Matt blinked, the joint between his lips, though he could not connect the movement of his hand to it actually getting there. Without realising, Carl's hand closed around his wrist, stopping Matt from moving away. As if he was going anywhere without Carl…

It happened without either of them saying anything, as if the weed was simply so potent that it had well and truly made them lose control of themselves. They moved closer, breath catching, a whimper on lips that, right then and there, were one and the same. Their hands were on each other's bodies in but a single moment, lips clumsily colliding, sloppy, awkward kisses shared between them. Yet the moment was best called forth in them slipping down their swim shorts, revealing their hard-ons, something that would never have been okay within the bounds of their friendship prior. Things, however, could not help changing, especially while under the influence…

Matt moaned, fingers wavering, wanting to grasp Carl's shaft, so big, his bush thick around it, though he ached to do more. He just didn't know what to do – was it all really happening? The joints were still in their hands, taking a hit when it pleased them, laughing softly, groping, cocks brushing against one another as Matt's throbbed with illicit lust.

“Ah… Is it…"

“Shush," Carl growled, huskier than usual, though there was a light in his eyes that made Matt's heart turn over in the best of ways. “Just… Mmm… This feels…good…"

And maybe that was all that it had to be in that moment, no more than that, never anything more than that. Matt blushed, wishing a little that he was as big as Carl, though it felt only natural, if more exciting than anything else in the world, to close his fingers gently around Carl's cock, jacking him off slowly, as if they had all the time in the world together.

“Mmmph…" Carl groaned, rolling his head back, his hand also finding Matt's cock, squeezing the base before sliding up to the tip, the skin moving back and forth along with his hand over the pole of flesh. “How can we be…agh…so horny?"

But they were horny and it was the kind of thing that, even then, there was simply no going back from. They had to live with it, panting breaths shared, though there were no more kisses to come, not that time. Matt's eyes flitted between Carl's cock and his feet, drifting back and forth as if he didn't know where to look, wanting both, wondering if, even then, his wildest dreams and fantasies were set to be fulfilled. It wasn't as if he had started that day planning to end up as high as a kite with his best friend jacking one another off on the beach.

The touch of another man felt good, too good, his eyes locking hungrily, needily, onto Carl's feet, adoring how his toes curled into the sand. He only wished they were on his face, yet the demanding pump of his friend's hand on his cock was alluring too. He took another hit, weed flooding his senses, softening the edges of everything as he'd thought it to be before, though there was no going back, not for either of them.

“Hey – you two! Stop right there!"

Carl's eyes shot open, a curse on his lips, however slurred it was.

“Damn it!"

The police could be identified in any country by their uniform, the surly attitude, the way they locked onto Matt and Carl as if they had identified two wrongdoers. Strictly, there was more than one thing wrong with what they were doing there, caught out practically in the open with joints dangling from their fingers, their cocks out, though it would be the drugs that did it for them. The police lunged, three big men, boots pounding the sand in a white spray, Matt and Carl yanking up their swim shorts as quickly as they could. That was harder than usual, of course, as their hard-ons still hadn't softened, but it was what it was as they stumbled into motion.

“Run!"

Matt's heart pounded, though he didn't know what he was doing, where he was going, only that there was a crushed joint flung back on the sand behind him and they were going to be caught if they didn't get away! They had to run, Carl grabbing Matt by the hand to drive him into further motion, stumbling over his own feet.

Their hearts pounded, the shouts of the police behind them filling the air, though there was no question as to what was going to happen to them. For Matt and Carl had already sealed their fate the very moment that they put their joints to their lips, the police set on bringing them to justice one way or another.

Carl went first, tripping on the sand and going face first into it as he shouted for Matt to run, to get away, to make sure he didn't get caught too. As much as Matt didn't want to leave him, there was still some vague, drug-ridden notion in the back of his mind that he could spring Carl if only he got away too, fighting on, straining to find a way off down the beach.

What Matt did not know, however, was that the end of the beach rose in a towering cliff, a scree of steep rocks, too steep to climb, blocking his way, as he was cornered.

“Stop! We didn't mean anything by it! It's just weed – come on!"

They shouted and tried to make the police see sense, but the words of English that had been spoken earlier were the only ones that came. Whether they didn't want to speak to those they'd arrested or did not know anymore was up for debate as Carl and Matt were bundled into the back of an unmarked police car, handcuffed, still high but somewhat soberer despite everything.

The only saving grace was that their cocks had softened, heads hanging. Matt cursed under his breath, though it was a weak one, not meant for anyone's ears. Jenniefer was going to kill him…

Someone leaned in, a tall man with sunglasses and stubble on his chin, a large injector gun in his hand. Matt didn't have time to scream as it was plunged into his neck, the button depressed, falling unconscious immediately.

The last memory he had of being in the police car was of Carl slumping against him, another injector pulled away, leaving a glisten of moisture on his neck.

Everything else remained black.

*

Matt groaned, waking slowly, blinking sluggishly back to consciousness in a large room. The first thing he noticed was that he was not alone, though, thankfully, one of the people around him was Carl, slumped against his side, his head on his shoulder. The second thing he noticed was that they were all completed naked, seemingly all stripped of their clothes while they had been knocked out.

“Where the hell are we?"

“Dude, are we naked?"

“Fuck!"

The others around them, as far as Matt could deduce while Carl groaned and sat upright too, had all been arrested for the same crime, though he could not be sure. Some awkwardly covered their sensitive areas with their hands, shame colouring their cheeks, but others leapt up and paced the room, though it was bare other than the bodies within, with not even a window to be seen.

“Let us out! You can't do this to us!"

“We were just trying to have some fun!"

“It's not even dangerous!"

Yet the young adults that had been trapped in there on arrest could not stop panic twisting through them, Carl's eyes shining with worry.

“Do you know where we are?" He whispered, though he didn't really have any need to be so hushed. “It's… This doesn't look like a police station."

Matt swallowed hard.

“No… You're right. It looks more like a…warehouse…a big garage…"

The floor had been painted at some point, though the paint was chipped and peeling, revealing another coat of red under the off-white topcoat. Shivering, Matt wrapped his arms around himself, brain working overtime, though there had not even been enough time for him to sober up before they'd been tossed in there. Dimly, he was still aware of the effects of the weed working its way through his system, but only time and usually something to eat would help that work its way out of him any more quickly.

Screams cut through the panic, though the voices of the others raised, tension strung taut in the holding room. But the screams were not coming from those that had been arrested and could be seen in the room, mixing with odd brays, some strange, animalistic sounds that didn't sound like anything that they should have expected to find there. Maybe they were near a farm or something? Matt's brow furrowed. But why were there screams then? Unless others were just as furious about being arrested as they were, even if Matt and Carl, technically, knew that they had broken the law.

Jenniefer is going to kill me…

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If he even got home, that was. Carl tapped him on the arm, his leg positioned so that his modesty, at least then, was maintained. Neither spoke of what had happened between them while they'd been high: it was hardly the time.

“So… We've got to get out of here, right?" He whispered, hushed, eyes darting back as people moved away from the screams, the twisted, strangled brays. “Maybe we can go for the door if they come to take people away?"

Matt sighed and shrugged.

“Yeah, like that worked so well the first time. Jeez, we've gone and fucking done it this time. Are we even going to get home? What does this mean about our passports? Where even are those? Will they let us on a flight? Hell…"

“Hey, hey, hey – look at me."

Carl made Matt look at him, pushing his head back around with the backs of his fingers against Matt's face, curled lightly, though it was a friendly action, if a determined one.

“We're going to find a way out of here," he said firmly, as if there was no other option about it. “We are going to be fine. This will be a funny story, give it a few years. Everything is going to be fine, I'm going to make sure both of us get home safely, I promise."

Matt shook his head, though it helped a little to hear it said aloud, as if things were more manageable after that. He shouldn't have done it, but Carl's nudity had him checking out the other man's body all over again, eyes wandering down his chest, along the lines of his sides, down behind where his leg no longer quite covered up his manhood anymore. It was a sneaky look, as much as Matt trembled from stress, but he could not help taking his glimpse of Carl's shaft while he had the chance.

It was smaller than he remembered, though that was not to be helped, especially considering how cold it was in there. His foreskin had covered up the meaty head of his cock and his dick was mostly hidden in his thick bush of hair there, though hair like that didn't bother Matt in the slightest. Even though he could not see that at the moment, Matt knew Carl had a really tight arse too, the kind that he yearned to dig his fingers into, to see if it felt as good as it looked.

It was something, a tiny little something, to take his mind away from the shock and hopelessness of their situation, but it did not help matters. At least he was too worried, even then, to be turned on, which could have been even more embarrassing than anything else, at least for Matt.

Bing-bong.

_ _

Matt's head shot up, along with Carl's. Was that a PA system? How could they have not noticed the speaker in the corner of the room, up near the ceiling, before?

“Attention, attention."

“At least it's English," Carl muttered. “Maybe they'll tell us what documents we need to pay the fine or whatever and get the hell out of here."

But it was not to be.

“Every adult in the room is here for committing the serious crime of drug use, breaking the law of our country. As you are aware, this is an offence of the highest order here, which would have been made known to you on entering the country."

Matt's heart sank. Was it really that bad? Just a little bit of weed?

“Your sentence, as noted, is to be transformed into brutish, dumb donkeys and sold to farms in the country. You have brought this entirely on yourselves for your crimes and there shall be no appeals."

The room erupted, people screaming, men and women banging on the walls, scrambling over one another in an attempt to escape – but to where? There was only a single door and armed men bursting through, chaos emanating as if it was poised and waiting to sweep them away into the tide of the storm.

Carl grabbed for Matt, but it was no matter as they were grabbed and hauled bodily from the room, a clamour of bodies grinding up against them, though everyone had their own fate in mind. They did not care for an accidental brush here or there

Lugged to another room where others were already present, Matt and Carl grunted as they were slammed down onto their stomachs over something that looked, vaguely, as if it could have come out of a gymnasium, like a weakly padded bench of some kind that they could have sprung over in gymnastics. But it was tilted at a weird angle and had something on the other side to lock their hands in place, metal encircling their wrists with a metallic clang.

“Ah!"

Carl grunted, set on a similar device right beside Matt, staring at each other, jaws dropped in horror. But what the hell were they to do to get out of something like that, everything failing around them, falling into the ether, panting heavily? There was nothing they could do, not as they were forced to spread their legs too, grunting and groaning, trying to make sense as the armed guards, who no longer even looked like members of the police force anymore, surrounded them.

“Carl!"

“Matt!"

They cried out, the warehouse room they were in filled with big machines, though they didn't seem industrial but medical. The ground under them grated in movement and whirred, dragging them towards one such machine, though mechanical arms tipped with needles promised something far more insidious than either man could have ever come up with. Howling and wrenching at his restraints in raw fear, Matt strained away from the blinking lights and glistening needles, Carl frozen not too far from him.

Not too far, but just out of reach. Maybe they should have researched a little better as to what the punishments were for those that broke the law, even if they would have not found any reports, not really, of what happened to missing tourists. A corrupt police and justice system, seething with contempt and rot, was the only one to be held accountable for the many, many missing tourists who had broken the laws, whether great or small, in various ways.

None of them returned home, not after the deed was done.

Matt strained and gasped, his eyes bulging, trying to get as much air into his lungs, but he couldn't do anything, not even scream, not as the needles stabbed into him. There must have been enough adrenaline coursing through him to ensure he didn't feel any pain, but others howled, others screamed, others begged for mercy. He didn't hear Carl amongst them, not as his body grew dull and thick and heavy, as if his veins had been filled with molasses.

He tried to tell himself that it would be over quickly, that if he didn't feel anything then that it made sense that he would not feel anything when “it" happened. They couldn't be turning into donkeys, of course, but something was happening, maybe to fuck with their heads.

And yet the horror was true.

It raced through him, a prickling heat that made them both feel as if something was trying to push out from inside them, as if their skins were bulging in weird ways. It was nothing wonderful, of course, but horrific, Matt screeching as his face bulged out and out and out, grotesque horror overcoming him.

He tried to shout, tried to fight back – hell, he even tried to beg. Yet, even then, the man knew that there was nothing he could do, not as new muscle layered through his body, his arms elongating, the joints becoming rounder and more pronounced. He let out a long, groaning cry, the most that Matt could get from his lips, Carl's lips parted in horror as his ears migrated to the top of his head.

They knew it in their shared look, both able to see the transformation of the other, heads turned even while they could have looked away. It was all really happening, truly happening, something that they could never again turn back the clock on, transforming into donkeys. And there was nothing they could do about it, not as their bodies thickened up, spines lengthening, something pushing from the base.

Carl grunted, wrenching his head back and forth even as his neck grew longer, a tail sprouting, already tufty with hair. Yet the layer of thick, donkey fur that covered them in a blistering sweep, aching and itching through them, did not hide anything from prying eyes, armed guards bustling around them, checking that their bonds were secure, though they didn't seem to care about the men who were in the process of becoming donkeys. They had seen it all before.

Muscle layered over Carl's hindquarters and Matt's too, as he watched, becoming a quadruped, the definition of the man's shoulders no longer easily shown. It was weird and it was wrong and the man that he wanted to spend time with was no longer there! Carl grunted, his lips thicker and rubberier than before, working his jaw as it grew out and out – there was a lot of growing, apparently, to be done as a donkey, the thought drifting unbidden into Matt's mind.

It didn't belong there. He didn't belong there. None of them belonged there as the screams and grunts and groans of others transforming filled the room, Matt's stomach seeming to grow into his chest, losing any definition he'd had, the barrel of his belly long and round. His ribs expanded to hold much larger internal organs and he took a huge breath through his swelling lungs, head spinning, the room turning and turning around him. Yet it would not be a blessing to Matt if he passed out, losing consciousness and not being able to take in the true monstrosity of what was happening to him.

His butt… Oh, he didn't want to think about that, definitely didn't want to think about that part of his body, but he had to, was forced to, grunting and groaning, his hips rocking against the device. His arse lost its shape, becoming muscular in a more functional way, though one would have still said that a donkey was more shapeless than a horse, a stockier beast of burden that had been bred for pulling, for labour.

Still, Carl pushed up onto his toes before him, his feet becoming hooves, another joint seeming to form in his leg, though it was just that he was, technically, standing on his toes when he had hooves. He tried to kick out, but his feet had been locked down too, around the ankles, hiding a tiny bit of the transformation as he tried to shudder away, his heel becoming a hock, pointing back from his body.

“Unffff… Urgggghhhh…"

He tried to cry out and Matt ached to help him, pain in his friend's eyes. Was it his fault? Everything that had happened there? Carl was more donkey than human right then and there with a bulging, grey face, large nostrils, his round eyes darting back and forth, though they were still blue, still human. Matt had to hang onto that thought, the knowledge that there was a man still in there, someone that he had to hold on for, through it all.

He had to. Even as he pushed back, trying to think of what it meant to be a man, rebelling against the transformation, a deep ache searing through his belly.

Matt, however, was not to be spared the humiliation, eyes shifting to the sides of his head, losing a bit of his forward vision while his peripheral grew, seeing more, every horror crowding in on him, demanding, even then, to be seen. Trying to wiggle his fingers even as he matched Carl, pushing up onto his toes, no longer shaped like a man at all, Matt grunted and strained, half closing his eyes, fighting every inch of what made him human slipping away from him.

It was no use, not even as his hands ached terribly, joints and bones reshaping themselves to the will of those that had power over them. Matt's fingers ached as they pulled together, becoming hooves, though it was a slow process, losing his dexterity and ability to flex them, bit by bit, solidifying into hard, round hooves.

There was a dip too underneath them, the flat of his hooves not even, though Matt would not need to know the name for that part of his anatomy. As a donkey, he would not have to know very much of anything anymore, grunting and heaving, sounding more and more like an animal with every moment that dared to pass.

Although he could not see it, his arsehole turned darker and darker, becoming the furtive grey of a donkey's anal ring, thickly puckered and flexing as he tried to understand the newness in his body. His genitalia, of course, was not spared the humiliation either as he fought and thought of human, of warm sun and coffee, city streets and a friend's laughter, but there was nothing he could do.

The fur around his crotch, or what had been his crotch, was not destined to remain as it was either, growing a bit thicker, a little more protective, their pubes softening almost so that they could frame their cocks. It was not needed there anymore, though it did itch and tingle strangely as Matt shifted his weight, Carl stretching out his head as an upright mane pulled down the line of his neck, trying to work out the kinks in his body, the strained muscles. Truthfully, it was the least of their worries, after everything that had happened.

All he could do was try to lock eyes with Carl as their cocks and balls changed, shared comrades in the horror of what their lives were to become, ball sacks growing larger and heavier. With Carl's legs spread, he could easily see between his hind legs, how his nuts hung lower and lower, his sack swelling out. It would have honestly been hot if the circumstances had not been anywhere near as horrific and, of course, consensual, but there was nothing to be done about that, not as Matt's cock ached, changing too.

For his dick did not need to be out, not as a donkey, stomping a hoof and thrashing as a ropey tail thickened with coarse hair down the full length, retreating into a swelling fold of flesh. He knew, dimly, that that was called a sheath, though Matt could not at all remember where he had gotten that information from. His cock was hidden, wrinkled and soft within his sheath, but he still got to covertly enjoy Carl's retreating up into his sheath, the thick fold of flesh still something, horribly, that Matt wanted to get his lips around.

Fuck, why was he still horny? Were they doing something to him even then? Was there something even more fucked up in one of those injections? There was no way for him to know, no way for him to tell, but it had to be like that, one way or another, his tail lifting, horror curling through the pit of his stomach.

Matt tried to stop it, he really did, his transformation almost complete, but he was prey to animalistic need as his ears rose to their full height, his hair thickening up all over his body, releasing his bowels. He could not stop the thick, fat “apples" of donkey crap spilling from his anal ring, pushing them out, one after the other.

He tried to scream, even as something wrenched inside him, something that did not feel like a physical transformation anymore, but an ungodly sound ripped from his throat instead.

“Aaaaaahhhheeeeee! Eeeeee-hawwwww! Ahhheeeee-hawwww!"

He brayed fearfully, human words stripped from him, though his mind crumbled, falling further and further from his eyes, dimly inside a brain that was empty of anything else. He was no longer a man, not a man as he had known, becoming a donkey, a dumb beast, all as they'd said, the man inside him not strong enough in any way to cling to the memories, the life he'd had, everything that had made him who he was, even his secret admiration and adoration of Carl.

He'd never remember that. None of it. Not as his body broke in defecation, his tail finally lowering as he finished shitting all over the platform, a steaming pile of animal crap heaped behind him. Yet he didn't feel humiliation over it, even if the donkey brain reeled and fought against entrapment.

A death of a sort…but not one that Matt, the donkey, would ever remember. That was probably for the better.

Yet it was Carl who was forced to watch it all happening before his eyes, his friend fading, braying, stomping, trying to wrench himself free with every scrap of energy he had left in his body. He could not, however, for they had transformed person after person for long before him and he would just be the next in a long line of transformed humans, becoming nothing.

He had to watch, crying, tears streaming down his face, horror encompassing him, his body straining, trying to pull away. He had to fight it, had to do something, had to keep that light in his eyes that he knew was there. He wasn't an animal! He wasn't a beast, he wasn't a dumb creature, not like they'd told him he would become.

Matt couldn't feel humiliation and he couldn't feel shame, not even as Carl's breath dragged more and more furtively in his chest, straining, pulling, aching deeply through him. He was a beast, but he was not and he had to escape, had to get out, had to find some way, any way – any way to escape! Panic curdled deep in the pit of his stomach as he let out a strangled cry, though there was not a soul there who would have understood that his pitiful wails were for his mother, her arms, her comfort.

He'd never see her again and, as much as Carl fought, he knew that there was nothing he could do. Helplessness dragged him down and down and down, watching his friend, his dear friend, fight his bonds, though not because he knew that his transformation was complete, a full donkey resting over the strange bench in a kind of bondage, but because of the restriction. He could see it in Matt's eyes, in the way that dullness had overtaken him, how it had become dominant against the lure of all else, everything that he had been.

It wasn't something that he wanted, not for himself, not for Matt, but…what could he do? His cries screeched into brays, losing himself, bit by bit.

No!

_ _

He was fading hard and fading fast, unable to do anything else but scrabble, though he got no purchase with his hooves either. It was only the bondage and the weird stand that kept him in place, though Carl did not see the final needle that sunk into the back of his neck, transforming him. Just a little something to push him over the edge, to make him a little more compliant, even though he had not fought as hard as some. Those running the facility, after all, didn't want any trouble. They just wanted to enact justice.

Where was the harm in that?

He faded, falling and falling, dullness entering his eyes, taking sweep of them in a swathe of brown. He knew nothing, of no parents, no family, no friends, his mind drifting, darting sluggishly from one thought to the other, but…what was the point? It was there and it was gone, his mind not knowing what it was doing anymore, his tail flicking, feeling like he needed to do something, but an animal did not know that.

All Carl was…yes. Just a beast, a donkey, a beast of burden. He didn't even know that he'd lost the mental battle, dropping his head and braying, pushing at the hard stand under him, trapped and disliking it. What was wrong with them? What were they doing to him? He shouldn't be on it!

But he didn't think he shouldn't have been there because he was a man, but because he was a donkey. Donkeys belonged in green fields of rich grass, grazing peacefully, or perhaps even doing work, obeying a master. He didn't belong in there, not amongst the screams, even though there was a dim, faint part of him that recognised the donkey to his side.

Matt blinked slowly at the donkey beside him, the guards coming to release him, though he could not feel grateful for that. It was not an emotion that a donkey, quite honestly, could feel, nothing that they needed to feel, his tail flicking as he stretched out his head and neck to the donkey closest to him. He didn't know who he was, not one that he had grown up with, but he still felt a strange sort of pull towards him.

The screams of humans were not his concern, snorting and shuffling away from them. Humans made the funniest of noises, but a donkey did not have to concern themselves with things like that, oh no. It was not for them.

Carl pawed at the ground, his hard hoof scraping the rough, old flooring, concrete under the paint, ignoring the rest of the people screeching, crying, forced onto the stands to be transformed. Not that he knew or understood what was happening around him, only that it felt a little bit better to be close to the other donkey, the one with a grey coat that was a little darker, a typical black cross running across his shoulders.

He liked that donkey. He liked the way that he smelled and the other stepped towards him too, nuzzling at his shoulder and whuffling gently, though he snorted as if something had tickled his nose.

A simple mind, simple thoughts. Those were all that Matt had, but the donkey was completely and utterly unaware of what could have been. All he knew was that his cock was out and throbbing and the donkey jack before him looked so appealing, so strong, so powerful.

He wanted him. That meant everything was easy, his cock slapping eagerly up against his belly even as Carl's slid out too. It was pure, animalistic pleasure coursing between them, Carl backing up wantonly against him as he swung his tail to the side at just the right time for Matt's cock to strike home. The flat tip bore in, though the donkey's mind could not tell whether it had taken several thrusts or just the one to power into the other's tail hole, stretching him open, forcing him to take him, though Carl was more than amenable to all that was going on.

He just wanted more, rocking back and grinding, even, into Matt's thrusts, even if it was not a kind of mating that should have been at all natural for donkeys. Yet in the stripping of their minds came a release of a different kind, allowing them to be, to show their lust, grunting and groaning and braying like the beasts of burden they were. There was nothing else more in the world for them, thrust after thrust powering into Carl, Matt driven by raw instinct alone.

All that he knew was that it felt good to slam into the tight tail hole, fucking him hard and fast, grinding in past the medial ring of his cock – but Matt didn't have to know what it was called. All he had to do was to fuck and fuck some more, pleasure washing through him, ignoring the screams, the howls of the transformed. What concern were any of them to him?

Carl pushed back against him, braying and stomping, though it was no time at all before the donkey reached his climax under Matt. He didn't know that the donkey on his back was his old friend, only that he wanted more, that his cock throbbed, slapping up against his own stomach so very tantalisingly. Pleasure swamped him and he groaned deeply as he ejaculated, painting the floor with thick ropes of seed even as Matt on his back slammed in and brayed in turn.

Together, they ejaculated, enjoying the peak of their shared high, though it was the first of many indeed as their lives as donkeys. For that was to be the way of it, until the very end of their days, no change coming for them as their days stretched on and on before them, cum-filled and mating, even if they were not supposed to. Who was going to stop the two donkeys out in the field, after all, from having their way with one another?

They didn't know what it meant to be in a barn, but they knew that the place they were taken to was dry and clean and had plenty of hay to eat, which was a good thing, fresh water too. There were lots of other donkeys there, but Matt and Carl stayed close together, the bond between them, even then, not one that could be broken.

The auction ring was scarier still, a tall, metal rail separating them from the crowd while people streamed out gibberish in human language, their ears flicking back, tail swinging unhappily. Numbers were glued onto their backsides, though Carl still practically paraded around the auctioneer's dirty, small ring with his cock swinging and his nose shoved up under Matt's tail.

To be sold to the farm was a blessing in disguise, a hard life for them, but one that would allow them time to rest at the end of each and every day, for a farmer would not work in the dark, not there. Sold to the farm, they had a field of their own close to the farmhouse, a tough hand on the plough, though they pulled and pulled and ploughed the fields, drawing carts for the family, without complaint. If they had one another, there was nothing that two donkeys, not like them, could ever want for.

Matt grunted, his head down, putting his weight into the plough, the collar around his neck digging in, though his skin would toughen up in time. It was the only life he knew, all that he wanted, Carl often close by, though mounting him in the field after their day of work in the long, hot sun was done was still his favourite time. As long as he had that pleasure to lure him to Carl at the end of the day, Matt was as content with his life there, swinging his tail to ward off flies in the summer heat, as a donkey could be.

That was all he could ask. It was a better life than many had gained, after all, after being transformed. But neither Matt nor Carl was to know that.

Back home, they were recorded as missing, no trace of them remaining. Their belongings had been retrieved from their hotel room, though…it hadn't gotten the authorities anywhere. Eventually, it was suspected that they had met a tragic end, perhaps out in the water, but there were no answers to be found, no solace for the family left back home.

No one there would reveal the truth of what happened to tourists who broke the law and why the population of donkeys, strangely enough, was as strong as it was there. For it was the best-kept secret of a corrupt society, only intent on controlling the laws that it deemed fit, the donkeys the only evidence, hidden in plain sight, of the wrongdoings being the scenes.

Dismounting from Carl once again with his cock dripping with cum, Matt didn't care. The donkey would never again care about anything like that ever again.

After being transformed and sold, he only knew his home.