“So little doe? What will you do?” The choice is simple: the more you stay in the clearing, the more you acclimate to the new instincts and body, changing the mind and shifting your desires.
The buck before you seemed more tempting by the minute, your nose detected his strong scent telling you he was very pleased by your body and he would be willing to mount the doe before him.
Your only hope is to escape and seek outside help, but against a strong stag with a new and inexperienced body this is at best wishful thinking: you need an edge, and the head start from the game is your chance.
With a nod you tell the nymph your decision “Excellent! You will have a five minutes head start, then I will release the stag after you. Remember that you are in heat and if you mate with a stag pregnancy will be the reward. I already know that I will spoil your little fawns rotten!”
You bolt without looking back with alacrity, galloping faster and faster as you get used to the new four legged physique and the improved strength, passing patches of forest and streams alike with growing elation at the rising chances of your escape and return to a human lifestyle. You can tell that the notorious five minutes expired some time ago, but you are confident the buck will not be able to follow you with so much distance between the two.
Where is the park? In the panicked escape you probably went to the wrong direction! The nymph didn’t run for very long in the game before, you should have already reached the edge of this forest. The gallop stop to a slow trot as you search for the right direction now that you have the opportunity, but even with doe’s sense of smell and hearing you can’t pinpoint the right direction.
The forest surround you muffling the distant sounds, but your ears perk and eyes widen as sounds of rustling leaves and soft stomps reach you. He is still following you! The race is still on as you speed up and swerve to the right, pushing to the limit the youthful body you now possess.
Many jumps and ten miles later a panting doe enter a clearing exhausted, the body still not very used to a more active lifestyle. In the last ten minutes the stag hounded you using your heat, the strong scent inescapable, and many times you spotted his antlers or part of his body on your heels, closer and closer to your chagrin. You almost preen when you think of the trick used at the river thirty seconds ago, you outran him when you hid on the opposite riverbank after a quick bath and waited there until the buck left for a wrong trail. The small pond near your position is tempting indeed, you lean down and drink from it and decide to rest here for a bit.
As you lean again to sate your thirst you have only an instant to feel a wet, leathery tip poking your slit before a textured tongue gives a long and sensual lick to your dripping folds.
You don’t think, you simply bolt again and turn briefly to see the pursuer still with an amused and smug disposition, mocking you by staying still and allowing the escape.
The smug bastard was playing with you! He probably faked being misled to catch you off guard!
Fatigued hooves strike the ground after the new chase, the first moment of respite for a doe on the verge to pass out from exhaustion, you lost your suitor by a stroke of luck, another amorous doe crossed his path and distracted him when you bid him farewell… possibly forever. All is silent in the forest, only the sounds of various birds interrupt the quiet and when your perked ears aren’t able to discern the hated sounds of your pursuer for the second time you can catch your breath. You almost want to grimace as you recollect the ambush of the buck that ignited the fire in your loins, a source of arousal that after the fact increased the more time passed without solace, when your stomach complaint out loud about the lack of food in the last hours.
Well, you are a doe now aren’t you? The crud on the ground seemed appetizing when you inspected it, but before you can start to eat your back stiffens as a tongue brushes against your vagina again, this time taking advantage of your pause by slipping the offending appendage inside the canal to excite his prospective lover.
He caught you again? How? His appendage slid free with a wet sound when he is satisfied, releasing you again to your anger in this lewd game of chase. After a few meters you stop and turn around and to your growing anger he is cleaning his muzzle from your juices with his long tongue, clearly enjoying the taste.
This time you didn’t even managed to lose him when he trot beside you with posh after a mile, content to follow your lead for now. Your run stop to a slow trot as the weight of your weariness catch up, all under the gaze of the pompous stag, when the first smells and sounds of civilization assault your senses and point to the right direction.
You did it! Your lack of speech will be a problem but as long as you can write on dirt you will be able to seek help! You can see the visitors now, countless humans on the street laughing and enjoying themselves !
The buck stand and block the way before you can move a hoof, and to your shock nuzzles you with fondness, before he moves again behind you to resume his work on the courting.
The way to the park is before you! But on the other h-hoof… The lover twist his tongue inside and brush a spot that send fireworks along your spine, in this moment your arousal skyrocket and on instinct you lean back to grind the backside on his muzzle with lust. His work done, the stag gently gives a last peck to the wet folds and then with great care he lands on your back, ready to claim his new lover.
The haze in your mind dissolve when a weight land on the back, an instant of incomprehension wash over you as something poke your hindquarters before the full scope of the situation crash into you when the stag’s breath ruffle your mane.
Your struggles are in vain as the buck continues undeterred, next he places the tip of his shaft in contact of your slit and after a moment of pause he rub the moist folds, lubricating his stiff member with the gushing fluids, before lining his cock and parting slightly your wet lips, ready to mount the doe under him.
The first thrust is unexpected, a mix of slight pain and pleasure, superseded then by the pleasure from the third thrust forward, by the tenth thrust the last shred of reticence left and by the fifteenth you actively pushed and synchronized to the buck for maximum pleasure. The only racket on the clearing were from two horny deer, a series of grunts and squelchy sounds as befitted from animals.
You both achieve orgasm pretty much at the same time, his cock throbs and release globs of seed inside of you while your own vagina clamp down on his shaft to milk every drop of sticky fluid. The stag drop down to all four as you recover from the ordeal and nuzzle you again, this time shyly reciprocated.
For the next ten minutes you both bask in the afterglow, even if your gaze move to the other visitors occasionally with sadness or longing. The stag approaches you and lands again on your back, this time ramming his shaft immediately in your folds, to start another session of mating. Unwilling to disappoint your lover and totally available to a new round of extreme pleasure you follow the new pace with zeal, only now remembering that deer mate consecutively over the doe’s heat season for several days to have better chances of successful pregnancy.
As the next mounting orgasm approach you can’t stop to notice the familiar sight of the nymph leading by hand a smitten teen in the woods with an innocent and faultless smile on her lip, leading another boy to a certain life in the forest. As she turns and spot you the girl winks at her new doe with a mischievous and pleased smile.