“Take it easy there, Mark,” said John, noticing his buddy straining his endurance trying to couple with the almost newly born 200 something pound beastman hoisted up on his thighs. “These kids’ll overtake us in a cinch if we’re not careful how we treat ‘em.”
Although it was anybody’s guess as to if or not Mark could hear him over the sounds of Archer’s ongoing yelps and convulsions, everybody in the room could plainly see the truth in John’s words. The boy’s body was quickly shaping up into A1 form. Out of the three youngest soldiers, he had already well surpassed both Tommy and Dylan in overall stature, as his transformation seemed to have the added illusion of aging him up to look more like one of the older bulls. Even Sgt. White feared for a minute he might dwarf him in terms of height, but still obviously not all-in-all owing to the extra mass he got from his broad build despite the stockiness, was how he recovered his ego. Archer, too, like all his herd brothers, was gaining his own charming traits that set him apart from the rest. Mats of bright orange, curly hair sprouted thick across his body—first at the chest, legs, pits, and groin—and then everywhere else. The ones on his head grew out in a messy mop around a rack of long-pronged horns, and a tangle of tresses fell forward to partially cover his eyes. His fully erect, 10 inch bovine dick bobbed in front of the crowd, dripping strands of pre forced out from all the stimulation to his enlarged prostate and rife with infectious seed produced in a sack so big that the average human hand could maybe only hope to cup one ball at a time.
“Stop it!” Kumar cried suddenly to the surprise of everyone giving their wrapt, voyeuristic attention to the scene. “Please, just stop it. For the love of God, I-I can’t even tell what he IS anymore!”
“A highland cow,” answered Mark densely in a tone that clearly gave zero fucks about the emotional state of the man asking. “These things are real beauts, if you ask me. Always wanted to see one up close as a kid. Never imagined it would’ve been like this, though.”
“Kumar, that’s enough.” Gabe spoke up next, trying to come off as calm and collected as a trained soldier could, though even that didn’t take away from the fact he was trembling.
“Keep talking like that, and they’ll shut you up the way I do my whores,” he warned. “Just...just try to stop sniveling, and let me do the talking. Alright?”
“Hahaha! ‘Just let me do the talking. Alright?’” John mocked, breathing in his ear behind him. “What you think this is, you being held hostage by the enemy? Gabe, buddy, it’s us. We didn’t die or nothing, we’re just different now...and in a bit of a fix, I guess. See, we’re just holding you all down ‘cause we don’t want anybody jumping to conclusions and turning the whole platoon against us.”
“You may think this is all over now, but the two of you can very well go back to being my men again,” the serge weighed in. “If you want, that is. Kindly excuse Mark and Tommy for, uh, doing that to Archer without his consent. They had rocks for brains back when they were human, and they still do. We’ve decided to give you gents a choice in the matter, though.”
“Yeah,” Dylan said bitterly, “And by ‘decided’ he means Tyrone wouldn’t stop bitching at us until we agreed to be nice about this.”
“I...” The soldier’s mind was racing trying to figure out how he could make the most out of this opportunity. It was really hard to believe that monsters this powerful and this loose would just give him the agency to choose his own fate. All this talk might have been nothing a cruel trick, but at the very least it might be just the thing he needed to distract them long enough for reinforcements to arrive. “...I dunno. I-I-I mean, no. Right now, no. I really don’t think I want in. But, uh, m-maybe I could if...if you guys, uh...s-showed me a little something impressive?”
Sergeant White furrowed his brow. “Impressive?”
“Yeah, yeah, uh, you know...something that lets me see how c-cool it is being...whatever it is you guys are.” He said this talking around the room at them and smiling anxiously. “Oh! And Kumar feels the same way as me, r-right man?”
He gave a desultory nod, still unable to really dry his eyes or even lift them off the ground.
“Hmm...” The serge was trying his best to catch on to his suggestion, scratching his chin and throwing glances at the the others as if trying to solicit them for ideas. And then, a possible meaning came to him like a flash of insight, and it was one he was absolutely in love with.
“Ohh-hoho! I think I get the picture.” The strangely naked, flesh-colored minotaur flexed one bicep and brought it temptingly close to the man’s face. “You want us to sell you on this deal before you buy, huh? Well, I guess the Goddess wouldn’t say no to a bit of foreplay before the bestowal of her gift. Might even call it a ritual, in fact. You’re on, little man.” He backed away just before the feeling of him near made Gabe’s skin crawl.
“Ty, Adam, Tommy, fall in line next to me! A-ten-hut!” He ordered them in his commanding voice, and they all did so without question. He stood upright in formation with them, taking himself through some basic stretches to relieve the stiffness in his joints. “It may have been years now, but I used to be an amateur bodybuilder in my prime, and I’ll be damned if my signature routine ever left my memory. Boys, our mission today is to get your comrades here to beg for our blessed bods like they’re the keys to heaven itself. You are all to move following my example. Understood?”
“Yessir.” The three of them affirmed more or less in unison.
Without any further push, the sergeant began leading his chorus through a series of coordinated poses meant to bring out the full beauty of their freakish musculatures. To the relief of his subordinates, they turned out to be pretty easy to follow. But as they move from putting on display each muscle group after the other, it became pretty clear to everybody, save for Sgt. White himself, that at least one of the boys outclassed him in every flex.
First was a hands-over-head, where the point, as the name implies, was for everyone to put arms behind their heads and thrust their hips forward so as to show the development of their abs. It was poor enough for the serge that he was the only one in the line up without a shredded stomach, but Tommy just had to feel the need to take all the eyes for himself on this one by humping the air as he posed, laughing like he was back in middle school. Next, they all slid easily into a side tricep, where the serge’s experience in the art shone through a bit more, though the posture proved unexpectedly difficult for a creature with hooves, so nobody looked quite right doing it. Then, the line spun around for the back double bicep, which was undoubtedly the highlight of the show. An entire wall of ungodly defined back muscles, the short fur covering them glistening from the heat, arrayed itself before the onlookers, crowned with peaking biceps the likes of which prize-winning lifters might kill for and horns the likes of which prize-winning bulls definitely did. And even like this, Sgt. White was yet again shown up where it counted down below. His rump roast was only the third most tantalizing after Ty’s and Adam’s, but at least he was having fun through it all, though. And one might say that’s what mattered the most.
“Muuuu-fuck, yeah!” He roared, tensing into the next position. Looking down, he was amazed at the sight of his stiff, twitching member and at how much the power of having a captive audience could turn him on. “Never done this in my birthday suit before. *snort* It feels downright liberating.”
He grabbed hold of his inviting meat and started beating it fiercely then and there. “Mmm...Oh! O-Oooh, I could cum! Fuck, yeah. Fuck, yeah! The goddess be PRAISED!”
“Woah, woah, woah, hold it there!” Gabe pleaded, killing the mood. “Y-You said you wouldn’t change us against our will, right? This whole thing was to get us wanting to sign on, yeah? What ever happened to that?”
“Oh.” The sergeant deadpanned, wiping a smear of pre off on his stomach. “Well, did it work?”
“Um, uh, well...” Gabe squirmed uneasily in his restraint.
He looked over at Kumar, who seemed to have been trying his best to keep his head turned away throughout the entire routine, no doubt wanting to put the whole perverted show as far out of his mind as possible, the same as him. Meanwhile, John and Dylan, the minotaurs keeping them pinned on their knees, must have been having the times of their lives watching their buddies go from what it seemed like. Well, “felt like” was probably the more accurate phrase, going by the startling weight of...the thing John was keeping pressed up against his lower backside. God, it was taking every ounce of strength Gabe had just not to wail at the thought of it.
“I still don’t know,” he said finally after holding them in suspense for the better part of a minute. “You see, uh, I told you guys once that I was raised in a strict, Catholic household growing up, remember? A-And...And nudity was never a thing I learned was okay around, um, other guys. Ya get it? So, I was thinking we could maybe...talk about that part a little first? Like, like, would we have to go the rest of our lives wearing nothing if we turned into you, or maybe we could, you know, work out something else? Probably, uh...”
While all this was happening, Mark, who was getting tuckered out and bored by his marathon suspended fuck session with his new brother, decided he’d had enough with this stupid, drawn out approach. It was about time he saw something that was worth his while again. The guys owed it to him for all this schlock, anyway. And he was gonna see it paid RIGHT. THE FUCK. NOW!
“Mmmnn...Mraaaa-Hyaaaah!”
In a feat of impressive athletic skill, even for a creature of his size, Mark charged forward suddenly, pushing past the line of confused bull-men to crash the scene. He was still carrying Archie along with him, lifted up by the rear and propped against the bigger bull’s massive flexing chest. He was clearly still in the throes of his libidinous upswing, breath gasping and balls churning for his first epic release. And Mark was only too eager to give it to him.
By quickly shoving his entire three-hoofed fist up against Archer’s hypersensitive prostate, he was able to force the young bull’s semen to spew out like a hose and wet the two reluctant soldiers before anybody got the chance to say something.
“No!” Gabe could only yell in utter despair while Kumar let out a scream, equal part horrified and disgusted, beside him.
“Bastard!” Tyrone snapped, “You promised me you wouldn’t force ‘em. Doing it this way makes us no better than fucking monsters.”
“Yeah, go preach it somewhere else, choirboy.” He answered back, letting Archer down. “Anybody with two good eyes can see they were just stalling for time until something happened, what with those lame excuses they were putting out. Anyone except you guys with your asses in the clouds, or whatever. Ain’t that right, cumstains?”
“Ugh...” Gabe was still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Somehow, it seemed that most of the shot had actually missed him, with only a few droplets of the creamy white liquid having fallen into his skin and uniform. He wished he could have said the same for Kumar, though, who was so covered in the stuff it was dripping down his chin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said still playing dumb, cling onto whatever small hope he had left of being saved. “Fuck dammit! We haven’t got a single bone to pick with any of you freaks, but you go and do this to us anyway? What the hell gives you any right t—”
“They know, they know! We told them!” Kumar came screaming suddenly after having spat enough of the taste of semen out of his mouth. “Some time ago, we got a signal through to command. It was spotty at first, so we let Archer deal with it while we were gone. I have no idea how much of our situation he reported since then, but it’s safe to bet reinforcement’s on its way.”
John let out a snicker from behind Gabe’s ear, full of disbelieve and a bit of pain at his betrayal. “So, this is all we meant to you, huh? After all those missions we had watching each other’s backs, one little freak accident’s all it takes? God fucking damn...”
Sergeant White had also grown sullen at the news and even a bit ashamed at how easily he could be made to fall for such a silly ploy despite all his tactical expertise. This new form had clearly loosened his inhibitions, and now he’d seen first hand how this could prove dangerous.
“Men, change of plans,” he said, trying to think quickly on his fee—uh, hooves—to prevent moral from crashing. “We vacate the camp a soon as possible. From here on, we are a rogue unit. Survival of the group takes priority above all else. We move cautiously along the dunes. Look to engage only when unavoidable. Infect or terminate at your discretion. May the goddess favor you all.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Kumar had been trying to interrupt all throughout his announcement. “Please, I...I told you everything I know already. So, please, please, you need to help me! This shit’s burning me, I can’t—I-It’s making me...making me...Nnnnngh!”
All of the minotaurs watched on in perverse fascination as the man doubled over in pain, his entire frame shuddering and expanding in an instant. Through his army fatigues, which were now a couple sizes too small for him, they observed layers upon layers of compacted muscle piling up on his widened back. The change was happening so intensely that it took only mere moments after for the fabric of the uniform to tear clear apart, exposing monstrous traps that glistened with a bronze luster from all the sweat trickling down his backside. Dissolving trails of the spunk that was corrupting him soon followed suit, rolling off his shoulders and down the crevasses near his spine.
“Did I tell y’all, or did I tell ya?” said Mark, stroking himself while parroting Kumar’s groans in his typical display of ridicule. “What we got is the best kind of gift no one asks for, so it’s our job to make ‘em see the light.”
“Holy fuck, that ass...” added Dylan, who lingered behind the soldier after releasing him to let the changes take effect. He marveled at the way they spread to his lower half.
Kumar’s cheeks involuntarily flexed as they swelled with grotesque mass, their fiercely muscled striations showing from underneath the seat of his pants and crowned by a prominent bump which was undoubtedly the start of his new tail. His thighs exploded with bulk soon after, looking powerful enough to help him carry an armored car half a mile and then back with ease. What this all did to his uniform made him look like some kind of buff, exotic stripper from behind, with little else now but a pair of torn booty shorts to cover his dignity.
Dylan couldn’t resist the temptation anymore. He reached forward and grabbed his rear, kneading it with both hands. It felt so firm, so dense, yet all the same so erotic. But the foreplay didn’t seem to do as much for Kumar, who thrashed at the ground in protest of the weird sensation. And as he did, his arms burst through their sleeves, taking on a trunk-like thickness with raw, primitive strength enough to kick up a cloud of sand as they pounded the dirt. Finding this hard to work with, Dylan pulled him upright, struggling to regain control of the older, soon-to-be bull. Once he did, the squad was treated to their first eyeful of how the infection had modified his package. Like all the others, his member had become huge from the change and was only getting bigger. It must have neared a foot in length already from the way it burst through the zipper, a dripping wet spot darkening the front of his black polyester underwear.
“Aagh! A...Ana...” He called out, whimpering through his delirium.
“Hey, hey, don’t fret, buddy.” Mark told him in a kind of compassionate tone that in no way fit the circumstances. “I’m sure your wife’ll wanna see you again. S’matter of fact, I bet she won’t be able to get enough of ya the minute she feels her pussy getting blown apart by that new magnum caliber you got tucked below the waist.”
“N-No! I can’t! She’s myyyy—M-Mruuu...Ah!”
The time had come finally for his skull to restructure itself into a more suitably bovine shape. Interestingly, unlike the others, he did not grow horns. Rather a conspicuous mound began pushing up from in between his shoulder blades, altering his posture into something much more distinctly hunchbacked. Though the front of his body had become no less developed when compared to that of the other bulls, this change had offset his proportions so drastically in favor of this hump that it was impossible to look at his arresting figure and imagine anything else but a lumbering behemoth. And with the new coat of ruddy burn fur having reached every inch of his body, Kumar’s transformation into a hulking bipedal Brahman cow was now complete.
“Oh, fuck yeah, dude...” Dylan mouthed, listening to the thunder in Kumar’s roar. It spoke to him of the tremendous, sexually charged energy contained in what they were now, together, for the rest of their lives. “You let the world know what a motherfucking god you are! You want all the love there is out there, huh? Huh? Aw, yeeeah!”
Overcome by the spur of the moment, Dylan pulled the almost insultingly snug remnants of Kumar’s pants down off his roid gutted waist and spared almost no time before mounting his tight asscrack and thrusting into it. Greedy, he began to breed the much larger bull, who responded by easing down again on his hands in an state of apparent submission, emitting low, deeply resonant grunts in time with the motions of his giver.
“Don’t treat him that way, or he might never come back to his senses.” Tyrone stepped up to chastise. He was the only one left with a sense of distaste at the way that things had unfolded. “Kumar, it’s gonna be okay, man. Listen, I know how fucked up your mind must be, but we’re here to help each other work through this, ya hear me? You and I can still be the voices of reason on this team, but first, I need you to try to get a grip and—Uh...Huh?”
While he was busy talking, Kumar’s snout had instinctually trained itself on the unique, musky odor of the new bullman in front of him, following it straight to his groin. Tyrone then felt his elongated tongue snake out and curl around his flaccid glands, lapping at them with all the absentminded earner ness of a newborn calf searching for its mother’s teat. Before he could think to reject it, a familiar impulse began to stir in the back of Tyrone’s mind, one that he immediately recognized as something that had overtaken during his change. And, indeed, he may have always know on some level that it was a part of him since his first awakening as a man.
Giving in to the beast’s desire, Tyrone pulled Kumar’s head in closer, guiding his erecting cock in between his puckered lips and into his throat until the whole fifteen inches of it was swallowed up to its base. It was electrifying what great head could come from someone he’d bet his bottom dollar had no experience, Tyrone thought as he was probing deep into his jowls. Had the change granted them special talents in the art or whoring, too? Why would anything ever make them like that? This was all starting to get way past his ability to comprehend and more that a little past his ability to care.
“You freaks are all fucking insane,” Gabe suddenly snapped, overcome by the heat of the moment. The squad turned to look at him with surprise, honestly having forgotten for a minute that he was there. “Nobody would ever choose to be like you! Nobody!”
“Is that so, Mr. Know-It-All?” Mark said pointing one of his fat, awkward fingers down at him. “‘Cause from how it looks to me, I’d wager you want it pretty bad.”
Gabe followed his line of sight down to where he was making out, and that’s when he realized the unquestionable truth that was showing through his uniform. He was boned out—harder than he’d ever been in his whole life—watching his teammates fuck.
And one revelation led to another, as Gabe soon after became gruesomely aware of his elevated heart rate and breathing, of the sweat beading up on his forehead and soaking up under his pits. Despite having barely budged an inch since being held up in the tent for all this time, it had looked as though he’d just finished a marathon out in the sweltering desert sun. One some level, deep down inside, he had to have known what was slowly happening to him, but even now that wasn’t something he could admit to that easily. His stubborn pride as an army man and a sane human wouldn’t let him.
“No...No, no, no. You’re wrong!” He crescendoed from stunned disbelief into enraged shouting. “There’s no way it’s over for me, there is still fucking hope. I know it! A-And you want to know what it is, assholes? It’s the whole goddamned company, waiting outside this tent right now. Yeah, that’s right. And you better fucking comply with what I tell you to do or so help me all your dumb, slutty asses are gonna be grass before you can even—Gyaaaah!”
While he was running his mouth, Sergeant White had been approaching him, dripping cock in hand ready to shut him up in the most satisfying way he knew how. With almost insultingly little actual resistance, the old bull’s joystick had made a new den to play with inside his insubordinate soldier’s throat. The sheer width of it was enough to instantly silence him, cramming so much into he is jaw that it locked full out uncomfortably on its hinges.
“You sure talk a lot of big shit for the guy who only got spared from getting court-martialed ‘cause of me.” He talked down to him smug and easily, meeting his wide, helpless eyes with a piercing, devious glare. “And to this day, all you’ve given me back for it is a great heap of nothing, except making me so pent up and eager about you for no reason. Well, Gabe, I’m tired high of all your bullshit. I think it’s about time you had your ‘dishonorable discharge...’”
After fingering his own ass enough to help along with the stimulation, Sergeant White blew a heavy load straight into Gabe’s windpipe. The restrained soldier instantly felt the burning pangs of the minotaur’s corruptive seed working its mysterious power down his esophagus and throughout the entire core of his being. His body underwent violent throes in the midst of his team leader’s epic climax, parts of it growing and shrinking as if not knowing at first how to process the gift. Then, the first expression of the change took hold around his chest. What was once the noticeable yet unremarkable upper torso of a trained athlete quickly ballooned out into a shelf of pecs so lusciously round that it was a whole new kind of genetically freakish, like someone had taken a pair of cantaloupes and buried them under his skin. It was when the serge felt the odd sensation of the expanding muscles putting pressure against his thighs that he backed away and gazed proudly at what he’d done.
“Hey, everybody! We finally got our first chick in the squad,” Mark hollered, laughing at Gabe and the hair coated, sinewy orbs awkwardly attached to him. “Oh boy, check out the size of them sweet momma milkers! Aw-Aw-Awoooo!” He tried throwing his best wolf call, which understandable didn’t sound right coming out of his muzzle.
As much as he jeered, though, what came next out of Gabe’s transformation seemed to have been coincidentally happening to give the lie to everything Mark was saying, as an unmistakably male black, bovine phallus began worming its way up over his belt line while a pair of heavy, grenade-sized balls bulged out churning on the other end. Incredibly, despite all the obvious pain, Gabe somehow managed to open his eyes then, using them for little more than to scan around the room, at the humongous beasts within it, in a state of bewilderment. His stare now seemed to hold not an ounce of hatred in it, only something like a frail yearning.
“There you are...My brothers...” He said misty eyed with the sound of revelation, though clearly his mind had been twisted. “I never doubted you’d come for me. The only good thing I got in this hellhole... Bailing out my sorry ass every time. I lo... Uuhh...Uuuuuuuhh! OoooOHH! UUUGH, FUUUU—!”
His change now reached its point of acceleration. John and all of the other minotaurs could see the impressive growth happening in spurts with one select area reinventing itself after the other: trim, evenly squared shoulders broadening into a ferocious cobra hood, the tendons on the arms and legs balling up until they were solid like rocks, and a flat, heaving stomach that was gaining more definition with each gasping breath. It was plain to see that he was getting needy for them, too. His attitude towards them which had undergone a complete about-face seemed more than just words, as Gabe started to force holes the seat of his pants and red checkered boxers before breaking his dick loose from its fabric binding in the front. He then held out his arms and waved “come here” fitfully at all of them in the room, grunting with his mouth hanging wide open like a baby chick begging to be fed. John was almost moved to to tears, understanding what this all meant.
“Now’s truly a cause to celebrate, boys.” He declared. “Set aside your worries and let the moment take you away; we’re about to be a team again!”
Not a single one of them could have hoped for a better invitation, as all the bullmen—save Archer who was still passed out and the two who were occupied with Kumar—rushed to envelope Gabe in a group huddle. One that had only managed to remain pure and tender for about a second before falling into something much more degenerate. As the five of them ground against his convulsing tendons with their unsheathed cocks and prodded him with their fingers in search of a good entry, Gabe’s minotaur form had finally blossomed. He ended up medium-large, like Mark or Adam, with horns fairly standard for a bull at peak sexual maturity. It was the fur patterns that really made his stand out as a thing of awe, though: rich dark all around except for the face, which contrasted in a ghostly white mask. A hale black baldy to stick envy in the eye of any expert breeder.
“I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOOUUUU!” Gabe shouted awkwardly through unfamiliar lips from the center of the pile. His climax arrived at just that moment, too, spraying an extra wash of white coloring onto his own glossy black abdominals.
His affectionate cries seemed to have an effect on the rest of the squad as well, putting them all over the edge one after the other. John had been the first to shower him with his approval down the back followed close by Adam’s gushing load and a cheeky shot from Mark across the ear. Somehow, Tommy had managed to completely bungle his finish, tripping himself up and jizzing over nothing but the dirt. With it being so soon since his last one, the serge naturally came last, though with still an impressive amount of volume considering, thanks to the unnatural, relentless sex machines they had all now become.
“So how does it feel, you cute little prick?” He asked, grinning huge.
“...huh? Oh, God, what the...Fuuuck, it's so...so—” Now that he was allowed to cool down a bit, the fog hanging over Gabe’s head was just beginning to clear. In the middle of trying to speak, he gagged without warning, and his stomach burped up some kind of peculiar bile into the back of his throat. Unconsciously, his tongue brought it forward and he began chewing. The cud tasted just like the peach blend tobacco he had used earlier going back down.
“Holy fuck, I’m a living chew factory!” He said in his first moments of clarity. “This is friggin awesome.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tyrone butted in, “live it up on your own time, though. Alright?” Dylan and he, by that point, had long since finished unloading into Kumar from both ends and had now refocused on to getting Archer awake and the rest of the unit back into some kind of working order. “Backup’s still gonna come, and when they do we want to be long gone. Understand?”
“Eh, killjoy’s right, I guess.” Mark admitted with a shrug. “Nice to see there’s at least two guys on the team who are a little more than a pretty fa—er, snout. Amirite?”
“Serge, we move immediately with your orders.” John followed through with his soldier training returned to him for the time being.
As all this unfolded, Trevor watched from afar, entertained by the wildly erotic images that flashed for him across the Chronivac’s screen. He had actually done it: a huge, horny minotaur squadron was born straight out of his dreams and was yet utterly and unknowingly within his control. But was he really happy with the way this situation had played out? That seemed to be the easy question on his mind right now? Was he still interested in seeing more of where his cousin’s act would take him and his army buddies, or was he craving something fresh now? Something different, something unexpected, something more...?