Scott wandered into the Mag Mell casino, eyes wide. At 23 years old, the brown haired and rather mousey young man had recently graduated from college and this had been his graduation present from his family. He was an introvert and his family hoped he would go to Vegas and leave his shell, maybe meet a nice girl…and then what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas.
He wasn’t sure what had lured him to the Mag Mell-there were tons of other, more famous casinos on the Strip. Maybe it was because the Hotel/Casino wasn’t on the Strip and had that ‘back-alley magic shop’ allure. Like those stories he’d read where maybe it was just an antiques shop with an eccentric old man proprietor or, maybe, just maybe, it was a real magic store run by a wizard.
The Rules were odd. Set in a placard on a towering structure in the middle of the casino employees referred to as The Eye, they referenced Mind, Body and Soul chips. Even more interesting was that each floor of the casino was labeled Mind, Body, and Soul, respectively. Save the ground floor, which seemed like any main floor in a Vegas casino.
He walked up to the front counter and smiled at the Lamia who manned it.
“Hi, um, can you tell me how this place works?” Scott asked.
The Lamia smiled, snake-tongue flickering in and out, then she glanced over Scott’s shoulder and her slitted eyes widened.
“Confused there boyo?” A man exclaimed in a lively Irish accent.
Scott turned and found himself staring into the smirking face of an anthropomorphic Pine Martin.
He’d heard of Anthros, of course, but he never met many in Wyoming, where he’d grown up. This place was crawling with them and Myths from that giant lion turtle island and a few robots, who’d seemingly sprang up overnight.
“My name is PM Dolan, I’m one of the co-owners of this here casino.” The Martin stuck out a paw. “Nice to meet ya.”
“I’m Scott,” Scott tentatively shook the Martin’s hand. “And yeah, I could use some help.”
“Help? Why, I’ll take you on a tour, get you settled in.” The Martin’s smirked stretched into a grin. “Follow me boyo and I promise you’ll have a time of your life.”
“Don’t you mean ‘the time of my’…” Scott noticed the Pine Martin was ignoring him and waving him up some stairs.
“Nope, said what I meant, up these stairs now, quick like!”
Scott followed him up to the Body floor.
He stared. The Body floor was filled with games involving the physical skill of the participant. From arm-wrestling to actual wrestling and tug-of-war to what looked like virtual horse racing machines, greyhound racing simulators and cock fighting tournaments, the entire floor was dedicated to contests of strength. There were even hot dog and pie eating contests. Cum production and milk production…Scott turned away, grossed out
“So, the Body floor and Body chips. You start with one Body chip. That would be human, if I’m not mistaken. Now, you can participate in any of these contests and tournaments and earn more Body chips.
“What if I lose?” Scott asked.
“Well, it ain’t as harsh as the main floor, because we kinda want you to earn some chips here and not just screw ya, but the worst player loses a Body chip. And if that’s the only Chip ya have….” The Martin shrugged. “You’ll be a prize hog for the House to sell if you lose the pie eating contest.”
“Oh geeze!” Scott started feeling nervous.
“You can always buy a basic body chip. A copy of a chip you already own is just a grand, doubling for each copy you purchase.”
“So one grand, then two, then four…” Scott did some calculations. “That’s I guess I can only afford an extra chip in each category.”
The Martin nodded. “Play to your strengths on these floors, lad, and you can go down to the main floor and really make some winnings!”
“How many people just start gambling on the main floor and lose because they don’t understand how the game works?”
“Way too damn many.” The Martin rolled his eyes. “It’s a big problem, so they’re assigning mentors like me to newbies. We only need so many waitresses. Don’t be a fool and gamble on the main floor until you have a sizeable bag of chips in your belt.”
“Horse racing…” Scott eyed the VR booth.
“Like horses?”
Scott nodded. “So would I be a jockey or…”
“Horse.” PM Dolan said. “Be careful with that one, boyo. Let’s go up to the next floor.”
Scott and the Pine Martina ascended an escalator to the Mind Floor.
Mind was dedicated to games of strategy. Maze running broadcasting live from some unknown area, the course filled with devious traps that required forethought to work around.
“Fun one, the maze running.” PM Dolan nodded at the screen. “People place bets. No cost to participate. Course, that doesn’t mean you make it out sentient or human. But finishing the maze always gets you a prize-first place gets half the winning pot and all TF’s undone.”
There were a few games of strategy aside from maze running, though none were nearly so popular, unlike Body where there was no discernible preference amongst players. The only other noteworthy game was a tactical game where players were generals of opposing forces, where it became clear that the losers ended up as the peons or the mounts of the peons…he thought he saw someone transforming into a tank before the player was led off to wherever the real battle was playing out. This place was boggling Scott’s mind.
“Wait, are there…like, real places these contests are playing out?” Scott’s eyes were wide. “This is some serious sci-fi shit.”
“Magic. But yes, there’s rooms here that are bigger on the inside than the outside.” PM Dolan replied. The Martin tugged on his elbow and pulled him up the stairs. “Alrighty, last floor coming up!”
The Soul Floor was dedicated to Magic and force of will.
Surprisingly, most of the floor consisted of Arts contests. Painting, music, poetry competitions. And that’s when Scott made the connection. The main floor was gambling. The rest were talent shows, essentially. Cooking contests complete with state-of-the-art kitchens, comedy contests-where Scott spotted an unfortunate contestant getting boo’d and transforming into a hyena-craft shows, pottery making. You name a hobby, Soul had it. The biggest competition was a magician show, where people appeared to be using real magic. The second most popular was the painting competition.
“So what are all these places really for?” Scott said. “Talent shows?”
“If you lose, we’ll know if your life experience is valuable or not. And then we sell it, of course.” PM shrugged. “Don’t enter any of them unless you think you’ve got talent or you’ll end up a puff pastry or something.”
“And what about the painting contests? What if I lose?”
“You end up in one these paintings.” Scott pointed towards the veritable art gallery that ran the length of the Floor. A painting of a tiger in tall grass caught Scott’s eye. It seemed to somehow follow his every movement.
“This tiger...used to be a person?”
“Yes. And now he’s just oil on canvas.” PM Dolan smiled. “Well, he thinks he’s a tiger ready to pounce on his viewers, but eventually time will wear away his mind and then he’ll just be a painting.”
“That’s horrible!” Scott tried to turn away, but the eyes of the tiger seemed to track his movements.
“Scott, there are worse things than turning into a painting of a very handsome tiger.” The Martin replied.
“Like what?”
“Like turning into a very handsome near-extinct tiger’s semen, frozen, and then shipped off to various zoos to help accelerate re-population efforts.”
“Oh. Yes, I suppose that would be worse.” Scott frowned.
“I guess it’s all just quibbling over the details, really. An end is still an end. Doesn’t matter if you get turned into a sausage and eaten or a pretty statue, if you lose, it’s over.” Dolan warned. “Being turned into a Bimbo means Scott dies, in a sense. It’s a nice death, but a death all the same.”
“Are you telling me to leave?”
“I’m telling you, I think you’re cute and you should really consider not playing at all.” Dolan smiled.
“Sorry, I’m not gay.” Scott blushed. “But, you know, thanks.”
“Point stands.” Dolan frowned. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, boyo. Come back when you’re 70 and wasted your life and turning into a pizza or a chimpanzee isn’t too great a loss.”
“I can’t win any of those feats of strength as a 70 year old.” Scott pointed out. “Plus, Look at me! I’m boring. I majored in Physics in college and guess what Dolan? The competition to get in to any jobs relating to my field is cut throat. No one retires. I’m working at Star Does as a barista!”
People turned to look at them. Dolan hushed Scott and took him over to a corner to cool down. Scott took a deep, calming breath, letting his panic attack go.
“What do you want, Scott?” Dolan asked, eyes pleading for him to say he wanted to leave.
“...I wanna race.” Scott smiled. “A footrace.”
“Track star?”
“I won a race in high school.” Scott shrugged.
“If you place last...” Dolan warned.
“I know. Let’s go down to Body.”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Scott lost.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Pine Martin was waiting for him as he stumbled out of the track and field they’d somehow managed to fit into a small closet. His arms were crossed. Scott felt completely beaten down.
“You managed to place dead last. Behind a 9 year old girl, no less.”
“She told me she wasn’t actually 9, she was really a 9000 year old vampire queen.” Scott explained. “And she took first place. Also, I think she was actually a dude.”
“The casino is like that.” The Pine Martin pulled out his phone and wrote a quick text. “Time to pay the Piper, Scott. That was your only Body chip.”
Scott started to panic. He wanted to scream to shout, to…pee, for some reason. Anything. The Pine Martin just watched him struggle.
“Oh man, I gotta piss!” Scott said, trying not to look so frantic. He did need to piss, but mostly he needed time to come up with an excuse or a deal. “Can this wait until I get back?”
“Sure, go right ahead, bathroom’s over there.” The Pine Martin smiled sadly. “I really am sorry.”
Scott walked to the bathroom, trying to come up with options or bets he could make. As he did, the pressure on his bladder increased with every step he took. He was halfway to the door when peeing became an urgent need. He ran, barely making it to the pisser in time.
He tugged down the fly of his jeans, cock flopping out, and then let loose into the urinal. A wave of relief poured through him. His cock felt large in his hand. Scott looked down as the last of his overfull bladder emptied out.
His jaw dropped. His cock was thick, uncut now, and at least 9 inches. Another throb, almost like a pulse, coursed through him and his dick extended another inch.
“The fuck?!” Scott groaned, feeling his cock only to feel an intense wave of pleasure course through his body as well as warmth.
Every muscle in his body felt like it had just gone through a serious workout. His cock pulsed and throbbed with every second growing longer and thicker in the process, huge veins winding around his length. A thick ring of flesh formed around the midsection while his balls swelled even larger below him making him lean forward slightly. He stared in horror as the skin of his dick turned a deep shade of black. The head of his cock pulsed, flaring wide as it flattened.
Still holding his cock, Scott caught a glimpse of his arm. His hair was starting to grow slowly longer and thicker, turning a deep brown in color as his skin darkened, becoming leathery and hide-like. Scratching furiously at his arm Scott looked down and recoiled in horror, a small brown patch of fur was poking out of the sleeve of his shirt. He rubbed and scratched at the patch in an attempt to get it off.
“What in the...” Scott gulped as he saw the hair travel up his arms and over his hands, the fingers starting to shrink away. His middle finger, on the other hand, was stretching longer, inflating as if being pumped full of hot air. His hands stretched as his other fingers fully vanished, the remaining nail thickening, wrapping around the sole remaining digit as they turned into equine hooves.
PM Dolan entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His assistant would be along soon and had a key. He’d called him in quietly after Scott had lost his race. Poor guy, but rules were rules, might as well make it as pleasurable and painless as possible.
Scott’s shoulders starting to ripple with muscle as they swelled ever larger, his shirt getting tighter. His chest heaved in and out with each breath, barreling outwards as his ribcage expanded, muscles growing broader and stronger. His shirt burst open down the front, buttons popping off and scattering across the tile floor as his stomach bulged out.
“Oh yes, you’ll definitely be worth something after all.” Dolan nodded sadly, “Stud you out, freeze your semen.”
Scott’s legs bulked up, his thighs growing more muscular, his ass inflating as it became huge and toned, the cheeks spreading apart as his anus was exposed, the skin darkening as it moved upwards, sitting closer to the base of his spine and pulling his balls and cock slightly lower down with it. As his pucker finished shifting, a short, hairy tail erupted from his tailbone, brushing against his well-toned rump.
“Please stop this!” Scott tried to plead, words becoming harder to pronounce with his shifting face.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you a champion?” Dolan teased, placing a hand on the base of Scott’s giant cock as he stroked the base of it. “Don’t you want to fill up some nice mares?”
Scott whickered, snorting loudly as his cock was jerked. That did sound good. He shook his head. No! He was human, not some stud animal!
But it was getting harder and harder to keep his thoughts in check with each teasing stroke. His feet kicked against the floor as they burst out of his shoes, the toes shrinking away bar the middle as it inflated like his hand, his heels rising upwards as the bottom of his new hooves were capped off with thick, hard nails.
“But .... what about my winnings...” Scott gasped.
“They’ll be put to use ensuring you get the best treatment and high quality stables. With all the proper grooming and everything, all the mares will be after you..”
He snorted louder.
Mares. His mind filled with thoughts of mounting, of winking vaginas, of breeding. As the fur reached his chin he could feel his front teeth expanding and pushing out. The fur continued to creep up the sides of his face and covered his ears causing them to lengthen. Dolan stroked him under his chin which was now beginning to push outwards, his nose larger and his eyes dark.
“M-mares!” Scott demanded.
“Not until you race. Consider getting to screw mares an incentive to winning!” Dolan told him as Scott fell forwards onto all fours, his muscles growing broader still as his body slowly filled out to proper equine proportions. There was a crack that made Dolan flinch as Scott lost his ability to stand.
Scott grunted, his cock slapping against his chest as his neck bulged, thickening as his head was carried off from his shoulders. Too far lost in lust, he moved his head closer to his shaft, trying to give it a few licks, yet not being able to quite reach it. It was around that point his tongue grew a little longer, thickening as his nostrils flared wide, nose sinking into his upper jaw as they both began to protrude outwards. His lips grew thick and rubbery as he was able to take the tip of his joystick into his mouth, gently suckling on it.
“Eager to be on your way out, huh?” Dolan backed away as Scott sucked himself off, his changes nearing completion.
Scott’s messy hair grew down the length of his neck, becoming a mane as his forehead sloped, thoughts becoming cloudy and dull, ears moving to the top of his head as they grew to points. His teeth grew even more, becoming broader and flatter to fit his new muzzle as it finished growing in, his cheeks expanding in size to match his new muzzle, and to end it all, his eyes moved to the sides, turning from green to brown, the pupils stretching sideways.
Scott suddenly bellowed at the top of his lungs, unable to hold back any longer as he was brought to orgasm, his cock firing off thick ropes of creamy splooge into his mouth, some of it landing on the floor. The horse heaved for a few moments, catching his breath, and then whinnied happily, staring at Dolan.
“Why the long face?” Dolan chuckled before sighing. “I warned you Scott.”
“Sir?” An anthropomorphic Beaver even younger than Scott appeared in the bathroom doorway.
“You got the paperwork ready?” Dolan asked.
“Aye, sir. ‘Scoot Along’, championship pedigreed Chestnut horse, ready to stud.”
“Not quite.” PM Dolan sighed and took the paperwork. “Wait outside.”
The beaver closed the door. Dolan backed Scott up into one of the unreasonably large bathroom stalls. The young man was surprisingly cooperative, though his dulling eyes may have had something to do with it. Dolan took out two plugs, placed them gently in the horse’s ears, and pulled a halter and harness from his bag. He’d prepared them just in case.
Scott’s head poked over the door of the stall. Dolan estimated him to be about 15 feet tall at this point. It was not by chance that Dolan had pointed out this bathroom in particular. He nailed the paperwork to one side of the door and placed the halter on the young stallion’s head. Then he readied himself for the coming reality shift.
Dolan pointed at the horse and whispered. “Regression.”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-
Scott was feeling out of sorts, mind a muddle of mares and a strange need to run, preferably across a field, when the Pine Martin pointed at him and mouthed something.
And everything began to change. He was shrinking, head forced down below the top of the stall, lovely muscles fading, and soon only a newly-born foal stood shivering on the tiles of the bathroom floor.
As he stumbled to keep himself upright, the walls changed, shifting from painted metal to old oak timbers. The floor was concrete, not tile, covered in straw. A bucket rose in the front of the stall, filled with more hay and some water.
PM Dolan steadied himself and checked his surroundings. Stall 13, as he expected, now occupied by one foal. He smiled, pleased with himself despite feeling sorry for his new guest. It is what it is, though.
A large, well muscled anthro-stallion dressed in jeans, a plaid shirt, and a cowboy hat, sauntered up to the newly occupied horse stall. He tipped his hat at the Pine Martin and inspected the foal. He turned to the paperwork, which was now attached to a clipboard, and eyed the young horse carefully.
“’Scoot Along’, huh? Race horse?”
“You got it Chawhee.” PM Dolan nodded.
“Paperwork’s in order, good pedigree, excellent conformity, temperament and ability shouldn’t be an issue, never is.” Chawhee nodded. “Go ahead and bring him up to training age.”
Scott heard them, knew they were speaking, but parsing their words took longer and longer. He knew that he’d been changed, somehow. They’d done something to him. What did it mean to bring him up from training age?
The anthro-horse stuffed his fingers in his ears and Scott found his own ears being stuffed with cotton balls. Then the Pine Martin pointed at him and mouthed something.
Scoot-no, Scott-began to grow again, and suddenly his mind was filled with growing up on a farm, birthed by a mare. He struggled, trying to resist, but the memories were real and they kept coming. Life was mostly boring, suckling his mother’s teats, being trained to like people, being brushed out, having his first shoeing take place.
The thoughts were crowding out all his other thoughts. His muscles were swelling as they did, body regaining his girth. Without warning, the horse felt his tail lift and turds tumbled out his backside. For some reason, Scott was having a hard time figuring out why that was wrong. He was a horse, right?
The Stallion, now two-years old and ready to train or stud, stood in his stall in a daze.
A Human Body and Mind chip popped form the top of the newly aged stallion and dropped to the barn floor. The Equine trainer smirked and picked them up, brushing off a bit of dung. He tossed them to Dolan.
“No Soul Chip. ” PM Dolan scratched his chin. “Huh, figured he’d be gone by this point. Took the transformation well.”
“Soul chip should pop out as soon as we stud him.” Chawhee grinned. “Always does. Let’s get that over with and you can be on your way. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, sir.”
They led the dazed horse, who was still trying to remember if he was ever human, to a corral. Inside was a mare, clearly in heat. Scott picked up her scent as she trotted past, tail in the air. His cock was out of his sheathe and hard in less than three seconds.
Scott was staggered by the sheer urges that demanded he fuck that mare! He shook his head, the voice in the back of his mind stating that he wasn’t really a horse and fucking that mare was a really bad idea. Probably. The mare stood still and pissed, pheromones releasing into the air. Scott snorted and snuffled the air, the delicious smell invading his brain.
The trainer opened the gate and shoo’d Scott in. The big stallion paced around the enclosure, unsure of what to do. The mare’s tail flicked to the side, allowing him easy access to her huge slick cunt, wafting more pheromones his way.
Maybe just once, to see what it was like…
Scott shuffled closer, nostrils flaring as he drank in her scent. It only took that bit of curiosity for his instincts to take over, the powerful odors causing the animal instincts to spike. He raised himself up over the mare, twisted, shifting forward and prodded for her opening, missing, missing and then…
The heaving plunge of his cock into the mare’s tight, hot cunt shot fireworks of pleasure in his skull, mind clouding with pleasure and a deep sense of accomplishment, like he’d done something he was meant to do. Scot whinnied as the most intense sensations he had ever experienced in his life filled his mind completely. The mare squeezed her slick warm folds around him, muscles sliding against his shaft, sliding all around him. Backing away was impossible now, her vagina had clenched and he was stuck in a lovely silken sleeve.
Scott snorted, trying to think, but it was so good, like his first time, he couldn’t stop thrusting, even knowing his mind was filling up with thoughts of being birthed by a mare, of running and playing with other foals, of training.
He shifted positions, biting the mare’s neck in a frenzy of lust, and plunged deeper, each thrust became more important than the last. It filled his mind, thoughts being reduced down to their most primitive levels. He knew he should be terrified, but as he built to a shuddering ejaculation, even that fear was forgotten. Then he came, and even the words were gone, and Scoot neighed with pleasure.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Scott's Soul chip rolled out of the enclosure and came to a stop under the sole of PM Dolan's foot. He tossed the chip in with the others and glanced at Chawhee. The anthro-horse was jerking himself to completion, watching the stallion have another go at the mare. The Pine Martin shook his head and sighed.
"Perhaps I can convince someone else to be a little more careful." The Martin spoke mostly to himself. "Where did I go wrong with this one?"
The stallion snorted and PM Dolan knew he had cum again, thoroughly breeding the mare.
"Get a few choice mares knocked up and freeze some of his semen samples." Dolan called over his shoulder. "Then auction him. We have enough horses already. Don't take any less than $10,000 for him."
Chawhee wiped his hands on his jeans. "Yessir, will do. Want me to put him in a few races?"
"Nah, he's a loser at heart." Dolan sighed. "We can still sell that Mind chip. Physics degree! Probably go for a pretty penny."
PM Dolan left, back to help some poor fool who wandered into his casino from making the same mistakes Scott had.