With his hands placed firmly around your shoulders, his bullish face nested next to yours, he smiled.
“I smell it inside you. Bovine hormones pumping through your body. It’s just roaring through you stupid, weak, pitiful humanness.”
You shiver, turning your eyes from the disturbingly, but still disgusting, stench emanating from the large Minotaur. He still towered over you at 8 feet tall, whilst you were a far cry from six foot. Instead you trend your attention to your feet. The pain had now subsided, but the pain wasn’t what terrified you. Looking past your transformed loins, still human to an extant, excluding the fur covering your ballsack , trailing thickly between your legs and spreading vaguely over your arse, were your feet. Your to nails were hard, solid and dark. They were also larger, with a small fuzz of hair, just barely visible in the light, beginning to grow around them.
“Yes,” the pull continues, lifting your arm and examine under and over it, “You’ll have plenty of growing to do. With my seed now pulling though you. That will certainly be the case, and,” he sniffed your armpit, “ Hopefully that human stench goes away.”
You blush, out of embarrassment and also fear. Again, the Minotaur laughed. It was then, before he released your arm, you noticed a darker fuzz growing around your armpit hair. You reached up to your growing horns. You did not have the courage to move towards the stained, body length mirror in the corner of the dilapidated room, but you did not need to. The horns, whilst not yet longer, were certainly thicker.
“What now?” You ask, you voice cracking.
The Minotaur, with time with a horrific delight before unheard by you, laughed before he told you what happens next.