(F Elves to M Horses)
“If it breathes, we can kill it.” Linea had smiled, her elven ears twitching with a quiet amusement. “So I wouldn’t worry too much about us.”
That confident statement seemed like it had been years ago, though it had just been hours. The elven slayer had accepted a quest to kill a tribe of beastmen, taking along her half-sister for good measure. Now said sister was convulsing on the ground, as strange magics worked their way across her body.
That was one thing the Countess had failed to mention about their prey: the tribe happened to be innately magical. The other thing she had failed to mention was that the beastmen were actally beastwomen, a satyr-like race.
Arden, the tribe’s leader, smirked. Her hooflike fingers twitched almost dimissively, and Linea stared in shock as Aria doubled over. The woman looked to be in clear distress, her chest heaving and sweat dewing along her smooth skin.
“Let her go, you monster!” Linea tried to sound defiant, but was unable to keep the desperation from her voice. She was no stranger to magic herself, but her own spells were meant to keep her safe from physical harm. Any magical assault such as this was completely out of her realm.
“Monster. Harsh words, dagger-ears. Part of why my kind and yours don’t get along.” Arden hummed, and the gathered tribeswomen laughed at the elves’ plight. “But don’t worry, soon you’ll be getting along rather famously.”
Linea didn’t have time to ask what the woman meant. Her words were made clear soon enough, as the spell worked its way across Aria’s nubile form. Slim limbs bulged with a muscle they were never meant to sport, and the elf’s tiny nose broadened on her face.
“Sister…” Aria began to speak, giving Linea a good view of the girl’s thickening tongue, and her coarsening teeth. Perhaps they were the reason the poor girl’s words were slurring, or perhaps that could be the fault of her thickening neck. “Ah’m sorrEEIIIGH!”
An almost equine whinny burst from the girl’s lips, and with good reason: Aria was becoming a horse. Tranmutation was no stranger to the land, but it was also made highly illegal for a reason. The idea of taking a sentient form and stripping its intelligence from it seemed a fate crueler than death.
Apparently the tribe found humor in this cruelty, because they laughed and pointed. The satyr woman pointed at poor Aria’s swelling buttocks, which tore through her robes with ease. They openly mocked her barreling chest, and the effect it had on her already smallish breasts. They catcalled as she grew a long, throbbing cock.
“No…” Tears slipped from Linea’s eyes as she whispered, struggling to meet Aria’s changing gaze. She couldn’t bear to look at her sister, and so she instead looked to the ground nearby. It would be the greatest regret of her life, as she missed the moment that the light of her sister faded from the stallion’s eyes. By the time the slayer met the gaze of her sibling once more, the woman she’d known was no longer there.
“You called me a monster. Perhaps I am.” Arden chuckled. Her hooves left soft imprints in the grass as she moved towards the new stallion, stroking his proud cheeks. “But then again, I’m not the one who’s about to violate the laws of kinship.”
Linea’s blood turned to ice. She couldn’t deny that the woman had power, but the implications of her words… Her brain couldn’t bear to even process them. She swallowed hard, her mind frantically racing for anything that could possibly get her out of this situation.
“Please, just not a stallion.” Was the best she could come up with. She hiccupped faintly, a chill trailing along her spine. She pretended that it was just her nerves, and that the air hadn’t physically thickened around her. It was a slick, oily texture, the kind that she’d been trained to recognize as magical energy.
Arden’s response was a rough bark of a laugh. The furred woman’s ears twitched with mirth, and she curled her digits into an unfamiliar rune. “You poor, simple elf. My tribe have no need of females. If we need a new breed, we can simply conjure them. Like so.”
Linea screamed, fear and desperation birthing the sound, and transformation heightening it. Her shrill voice took on a reverberating pitch. Already an equine note was slipping into her voice. She lunged for the tribe’s leader, heedless of the punishment that would be delivered should she fail. The elf’s fight or flight instinct had always been firmly in favor of the former, and now was no exception.
Pain was the reward of her insolence. A sharp crack echoed through her skull, and cool grass rushed to meet her face. The elf blinked stars from her eyes to find Arden’s fist was outstretched. The tribe’s leader spoke with an easy confidence, the sort that Linea had once sported. “You couldn’t manage to handle my fledgling warriors even when armed. What made you think you’d stand a chance against me?”
The elf struggled to rise, if only to have another swing. Fighting was all she knew, and she fully intended to go down swinging. At the worst, she’d be knocked into unconsciousness. She hoped.
Unfortunately, her limbs didn’t respond the way she intended. Every motion of her arms felt ungainly, awkward. Their old range of motion no longer seemed right, and she could only feel comfortable when they were held straight in front of her. The same went for her legs, and the elf found herself in an ungainly stance, palms and soles resting flat upon the ground.
She grunted. “No, damn you! Work!” Linea spoke to her limbs as though they could listen to her, but she had a sneaking suspicion that their control was firmly beyond her grasp.
“Indeed. Work for me, and swell bigger.” As if to confirm this, Arden spoke. Her words were law, and Linea sobbed as her body obeyed.
A dull ache settled across her every muscle, as though she’d just exercised for hours. Her flesh rippled in time with this sensation, new strength coursing through her veins. Her thighs bulked up, and her soft elven frame visibly distorted beneath her tight clothing.
Once, her fighter’s garb would have caught the eye of many a passing man. It hugged her curves tightly, accentuating the supple moon of her ass and every sway of her breasts. Now it turned against her, giving everyone in the village a clear view of her thickening muscle. Her straining bulk began to fight against the clothing, and its creaks of protest flooded the air.
“Nuhhgheugh…” Linea tried to pretend that the sound wasn’t equine, but she couldn’t deny that her lips felt swollen. She ran her broadening tongue along them, and could feel that they were rough, more suited for an animal than a woman. Small hairs were already sprouting beneath them too, the onset of what would become a full and proud coat of fur. “I’m nuht a horse.” Her words were more defiant in her head. Once they passed her thick lips, they sounded more like the petulant pouting of an imbecile.
“Bigger.” Was Arden’s response.
Linea choked as her chest swelled, the leather straps of her armor popping almost instantly. Her clothing was little better off, small runs working their way across her clothing. The creaking and popping of threads seemed to echo around the glade, until finally her clothes burst at the seams.
The feeling of cool air on Linea’s burning body lasted for but a moment. The second her form was bared, a wave of chestnut fur coursed across her body. Her pores itched as the fur forced her body to accommodate, and she would have pawed at herself were she able, but her body was no longer capable of that.
Her bones and joints cracked and popped, harsh sounds that were more in line with snapping one’s knuckles than any real breakage. While there was no physical pain, Linea began to give into despair as she realized she was now physically unable to rise above her stooped posture. Her arms and legs both grew, and her back popped as it too lengthened.
Strangest of all the sensations gripping her body was the heat that worked its way through her crotch. A strange warmth pulsed through her, in time with the beating of her growing heart. She knew what it was, even as it manifested itself physically. She didn’t expect for it to feel good.
“Bigger.”
Linea grunted and drooled, her heartbeat echoing through her head. This wasn’t possible, was it? She wasn’t supposed to feel this way… Her hips faintly bucked at the air, and she felt a swaying between her legs. Her small bud of a clit swelled from her vagina, horseflesh connecting it to her belly in the form of an equine sheath.
“Nuuugh! Nuughhhurt hurrse!” Words were strange to her, with her tongue as thick as it was. The elf’s jaw creaked, and she crinkled her nose in distaste as she felt it broaden. The delicate features of her face distorted as they extended, and her teeth tripled in size within her coarser jaw.
“Not yet you’re not.” Arden laughed, looking between the elf-stallion hybrid’s legs. “But I can see that someone’s excited. You might not make your way through this little change without giving in first.”
“Guhvng eiighn?” Linea half-snorted, unsure of what the woman meant. Her changing body seemed to know; however, as her hips bucked again. She could smell something good on the air, something familiar and musky. Her head turned towards her sister, and her eyes fixated on the stallion’s rump.
She might have stared at it for hours, were it not for the fact that her eyes slid to the sides of her equine head. She chuffed with shame, tossing her hair even as the locks lost much of their luster. A coarse mane spread along her neck, which stretched out a foot at a time, growing longer and longer with each of the elf’s breaths.
She didn’t want this, didn’t want to breed her sister-stallion. She didn’t want to feel his body beneath hers, or dominate such a strong creature. She didn’t want him to resist as she plunged into his warm donut of an asshole, because she knew that he was hers to claim. Precum welled up from her throbbing cock, and Linea’s eyes glazed.
Just one. Just one quick thrust, it couldn’t hurt her. Her unfamiliar body moved shakily towards her stallion. He was as eager for it as she was, she could tell. His tail was lifted, letting her drink in a scent that so closely matched her own.
Trapped in this trance, she reared back onto her hind legs, pressing her strong chest against his back. It felt right, natural even to be like this. Linea’s cock lined up perfectly with his mate’s hole, and she slowly pressed towards him, this most sensitive part of his cock pushing against his stallion.
He snorted, air rushing into his wider nostrils. A long, rough tail bloomed from the base of his spine, and he wiggled his rump. The motion sent a thrill of pleasure through him, and Linea let out a whinny of content, not even realizing that he no longer thought of himself as female.
“That’s a good boy. Now go on, have your treat.”
Arden didn’t need to speak twice. Her new stallion chomped his blocky teeth in an overeager haze. Linea’s hips bucked, and he drove himself into his mate. The plunge was the greatest feeling of his life, a warm and wet pressure enveloping his massive cock. He could feel an ache in his balls, his new testicles working hard to produce more cum.
“Let it all out.”
Linea tried to fight it. He tried to keep himself from pulling back, and driving himself deeper into his lover. But he didn’t try hard. His old mind crumbled away, faster and faster with every second. He feverishly fucked his stallion’s ass, reveling in the rich musk of his mate.
His hands and feet went numb, but he didn’t care. All of his weight was on his stallion’s back, anyways. His forelegs lazily draped themselves along the other horse’s flanks, as if to demonstrate his diminished mental facilities.
“NUUGHEEIGH!” It was his first real, proper whinny, and it was followed by another. His rigid cock plunged deep into his stallion’s asshole, and the only sound he could make was an exultant cry of passion. It wasn’t lovemaking; wasn’t even fucking. This was carnal, animalistic rutting.
His flared head twitched, his balls tightening. Stallions weren’t known for stamina, though they were known for volume. Linea could feel a torrent of cum welling up just behind the tip of her cock, needing only a clench of her new muscles to release it.
For a moment, she came to her senses. She stood at a precipice, and so was able to realize just how far her noble frame had fallen. She was a horse, and had succumbed to the changes to the point that she’d barely noticed the little changes like the lengthening of her ears, or the growth of her shaggy fetlocks.
Shame, disgust, and fear all warred for control of her thoughts. Then he tensed, a new sensation overcoming them all: lust. His mouth went slack, eyes flaring brightly as Linea’s last thoughts flooded with need to cum in her sister’s ass. Then he met his sweet release, rope after rope of cum spurting through his length.
“UGHHEEEIGH!” He bellowed, literally cumming his intelligence away. His hips slammed against his stallion’s, and he cried out in the greatest bliss that he had ever known. His emptied his balls before dismounting, noticing absently that the other horse had orgasmed as well, covering the scraps that were once Aria’s clothes.
The stallion’s owner made sounds, smooth and delicate flowing noises that he knew was speech. But the words meant for him, so he didn’t give them much notice. Instead, he chuffed his lips and nuzzled the stallion beside him affectionately, eager for their next rut.