Troy watched the rest of DeathNote while he waited for his victim to arrive. Dustin sat quietly on the couch, cold nose pressed into Troy’s lap as he pet him, enjoying the feeling of his fingers running through his thick coat. Troy’s right hand throbbed painfully, still messed up, a proper bandage and an anti-bacterial rinse had been applied to it.
When he’d woke up at midnight last night to Dustin licking his face, he’d been incredibly disoriented, but recharged. It had taken him three hours to properly edit the TF porn he and Dustin had created together. Then, he’d posted it on three major furry forums and a Discord.
The response had been… well, rather explosive. Most accused him of creating a Deepfake. Others had been interested in his offer but had lived too far away to meet in person. One had lived in Portland and another in LA, and they’d both informed him that while they were interested, they’d have to do so during a holiday weekend. The closest holiday was…two months from now.
Then a guy who supposedly worked in IT had messaged him. Troy got excited. He messaged him, told him to come over and if he wanted a permanent TF, he’d have to pay. The man apparently thought he was a video editor and had asked if he would be upset as he was a ‘gray muzzle’ or something. Troy had to look it up. Older Furry.
Troy wondered if that meant he’d be an old… whatever animal he was going to transform him into and sell. That might make things tricky. Most people wanted studs or puppies or prime racehorses, and this guy had indicated he was past his prime. Could it still work if he advertised the guy as a stud? Would someone be able to guess his age as an animal?
He checked the internet to find out when animals stopped having sex. As it turned out, the males never did. Stud he would be, then. Though he was still unsure of what animal to turn the guy into. Horse or bull, maybe? Man, if he had something like the Book of Time or something he could fix things, but alas…
Oh well. He’d just have to give it some more thought when he wasn’t anxious about his first victim. Troy ran through the script he’d developed to get as much personal information out of the guy. He sat on the couch and checked his phone, making sure the camera he had hidden on the shelf above was positioned in a way that it could see keystrokes and laptop screens. He’d also installed a key-logger on his desktop and laptop, so when the guy logged into his account on Troy’s computer, he’d have everything.
There came a knock at his door. Troy checked his phone. Yup, 6PM sharp, like the guy had said. His heart was in his throat as he walked to the door. His hand paused on the doorknob.
Troy took a deep, calming breath. The guy didn’t know what Troy was, that he could do real magic. He was a sucker and all Troy had to do was act nice and get him comfortable. Troy inhaled and exhaled a few more times, plastering a smile on his face, then opened the door.
Brandon waited for him outside, all 450 swollen pounds of him, dressed in slacks and a collared shirt with a tie on it. Gray hair speckled his short-cut auburn hair and a pair of thick black-framed glasses sat on his nose. Brandon was boyishly cute, even at fifty, face cleanly shaved, revealing pudgy cheeks, a dimple on his chin, and sagging jowls. It was his pretty blue eyes that made Troy pause as he stared at the guy. Brandon was fucking hot for a fifty year old tech nerd!
Troy realized he was staring and shook his head. “Um, come in. Brandon, right?”
“TrojanHorse?” Brandon smiled, eyes sparkling.
“Y-yeah. My name’s Troy, actually. Uh, shit…” Troy stood out of the way. “I had no idea you’d actually be coming over.”
Brandon waddled in, smelling like aftershave. If he hadn’t been so overweight, Troy might have… well, maybe he still would. He was definitely having second thoughts on the second TF. Morbid obesity like Brandon had is a net negative in most breeding stock.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Brandon sounded disappointed.
“Yes, Brandon.” Troy shut and locked the door, picking up the Book with one hand. “But I need you to stand on that X in the middle of the living room. No, further to the left. There. Painter’s tape. Stand right there.”
“Recording me?” Brandon turned to look at the cameras that circled him and grinned. “What kind of setup is this?”
“They kept saying it had to be fake, that I was playing with editing. You’re going to be completely unedited, and shot from multiple angles.”
“Oh, that’s going to be a lot of work to make it look real.” Brandon’s eyes widened. “I want mine to be as good as your friend’s!”
“Wouldn’t worry too much about that.” Troy said. “You found your mark. I’m gonna need you to strip.”
“Erm, I’m a big guy…”
“Do you want this for free or not, Brandon?” Troy said, using his name.
“Uh…” Brandon looked around. “…Alright, fine.”
He stripped, Troy enjoying the show. The fat man stood naked on the X and Troy decided to run through a few questions.
“Okay. Job?”
“IT tech.”
“Cool. Friends and family?”
“Bachelor. No more family.” Brandon looked away, sadly. “My mom and dad passed away a few years ago.”
Troy didn’t know what to say to that. “Sorry man. What do you want to become?”
Brandon frowned. “Hmmm. I don’t really have an OC, but I have a few anthros I’d like to become.”
“So no feral, then?”
“...Maybe? Gosh, it’s just so hard for me to pick. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” Brandon held up a pudgy hand. “It’s just that I know this is free, and I probably won’t be able to afford a second.”
“Can’t afford it?” Troy asked, beginning to worry.
“I guess I misspoke. I’m not gonna shell out ten grand. I have money, I’m…well-off, shall we say. But I’m not gonna spend it on frivolous stuff like this. You know, retirement.”
“I see.” Troy smiled, inwardly chuckling. Brandon wouldn’t have to worry about retirement. “Not a problem, then! Just pick something you like.”
“Oh, I guess, then, that I’ll do an anthro form.” Brandon licked his lips. “Can you do something like an Ermine or a Pine Martin?”
Troy licked his lips. “Erm. Long, lithe and slinky?”
“Yeah, exactly!”
He was hoping for, like, bear, or something. Weasels were skinny. He didn’t own the Book of Body. Would the natural thinness of an Ermine cancel out his fat, or would Brandon end up a stout stoat? Well, he did have the opportunity to experiment a bit here. Troy brought up his phone, opened his multimedia app, and began activating his cameras.
“So, uh, do I just stay here, or are you going to join me, or what?” Brandon asked, fidgeting nervously.
“Just… like, hold on, bro. This fucking app takes five minutes to load.” Troy said, annoyed. The cameras and lighting finally started working and could see the naked fat man from all angles. “Okay, we’re recording. Across the wall is a dot. Please look at it. There. Now, I’m going to transform you.”
“You want me to, like, act or something, kid?” Brandon asked. “I’m not very good at acting.”
“Brandon. Did you not listen to me? I don’t know how to do CGI. This isn’t some trick of editing. This is real.” Troy said, and pointed at him, trying to imagine a thin, lithe Ermine. “Now, please don’t scream in horror because my walls are thin, and my neighbor is a very big man. Half.”
“What?” Brandon asked, then looked down at his hands. They were shifting, claws beginning to extend from them, soft black pads growing on his palms. A brilliant white fur had covered them and was slowly travelling up his arms. His mouth opened and a strange, silent noise wheezed out. “Wh--ah! who?”
“No heart attacks, either.” Troy chastised. “Can’t save you from that.”
Brandon’s mouth worked silently as he stared at his paw hands in disbelief, flexing them. The fur had traveled to his shoulders, now. Troy frowned. His arms were still wobbly and bloated with fat. Not a good sign. The fur traveled across his chest, and any unflattering curves were hidden from view. The result was… unfortunately… stout stoat. Brandon seemed to have noticed as well.
“I’m still fat.” He said simply.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have the Book of Body, pal. Can’t make you fatter or skinnier or muscular or younger looking.”
“Younger looking?” Brandon looked up as the fur crept up his neck and his skull began to distort into a weasel-ish configuration.
“Body can’t change your physical age, that’s the Book of Time. But it can make you look older or younger. You would still be fifty, but an incredibly young looking fifty. Impossible looking fifty.”
“Or twenty and look fifty.” The fat, ermine-headed man said as the fur traveled down his voluminous stomach.
“Exactly. Now that I think about it, it’s a good way to disguise yourself. I gotta say, this is not turning out sexy at all.” Troy commented.
“There’s a crowd for it, I’m sure.” The ermine winced as his torso elongated and he began to look a bit like a furry white tub of overstuffed sausage, tail growing, barely poking from his huge ass cheeks. “But I’d rather have a form that looked good rather than a form that was fat like mine.”
“Hmmm.” Troy said, watching on the videos as the changes were finishing up. “What do you thin-”
“Ahhh!” Brandon flailed his comically shortened limbs as his back bent over at an impossible degree and the fat, sausage-like ermine smacked his head on the ground, as though his spine had given out. “H-help!”
Troy rushed over and straightened Brandon’s legs, so the ermine was lying flat on his back. The weasel was struggling to breathe. He was too fat for the lithe animal’s form to keep him mobile, the spine clearly not meant to bare so much weight.
“Half!” Troy pointed.
The fur receded and the fat man’s body restructured. Soon there was only Brandon the human lying on the ground, moaning and holding his back. He ran to the kitchen and came back with a bag of ice.
“Are you hurt? Do you… uh, need me to call an ambulance?” Troy asked, hesitating.
“Oh god, my back!”
“Can you move your legs?” Troy asked, heart pounding. Holy shit, had he just paralyzed the man?
Brandon gave his toes a feeble wriggle and moved his legs in a scissoring motion. “Uh, yeah. Oh, ow, it fucking hurts, though.”
Troy felt along the guy’s back. He could feel a few muscles had grown swollen and were throbbing. So… he’d pulled his muscles. That was all. Just muscle strain. Troy sighed in relief and applied ice packs to it.
“I guess I should have warned you…my back is bad.” Brandon grunted.
“No shit.” Troy muttered.
“What?”
“I said, ‘oh shit’. I’m glad you’re okay. Look, I can’t show that video as proof. You wanna become something more… suited to your figure?” Troy asked, trying to tell the guy to become an anthro that was naturally fat in the most delicate way possible.
Brandon was silent, catching his breath. “…Boar.”
“Boar?” Troy raised a brow.
“Yeah. Go on, make me a fat pig.” Brandon chuckled. “Holy shit, I can’t believe this is real! If only I hadn’t fucked up my back, this would be the best day of my life!”
“Alright. Can you sit up?”
“With some help.” Brandon said, and the struggled together to lift the fat man onto his feet. “Alright. Just…turn me, okay?”
“Got it.” Troy said, making sure the cameras were still rolling and pointed. “Half.”
Immediately, the man began to change. His hands and feet shifted into trotters, fingers tipped with hooflets. His face and nose pressed forward into a wide, snuffling snout. Bristly red-brown fur grew across his form, which was gaining a bit more musculature, due to the nature of being a pig.
As his snout finished, two little tusks poked their way out from his bottom jowl. His ears grew, shifting to the top of his head, then flopped over onto his eyes. He oinked in surprise, then twisted as a curly tail wound its way out of his spine, resting daintily above his furred ham-hocks. Troy watched with some amusement as the porker brought a trotter up to his face and lifted his ears. He gasped. That pig had the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen.
God, the way his fat and muscles combined, Troy figured he’d be the perfect show pig. Yeah, a show pig! Holy crap, that’s what he could sell him as! And not much of a change, either. The big boar was busy rubbing himself, his form distributing his fat much better than the Ermine’s had. Marbled, that was the word. Muscles and fat combined. Troy’s mind began to whirl as he thought of how he’d market the new boar.
That was when Brandon’s cock twisted and began to curl and his balls swelled up to the size of cantaloupes. A breeder. That’s what he would be. A show pig sire. Yeah.
Brandon caught him looking and smiled tuskily, giving him a hooflet-ted thumbs up. “I’m… awesome, man!”
He took one step forward, cringed, spasmed, gave a squeal of pain, then fell to his side. Troy rushed over to him. The transformation hadn’t healed the back injury, just concealed it better. The flesh where his muscles had strained was red and tender to the touch.
“Gah!” Brandon groaned in pain. “My back!”
Troy took him by the arms and dragged him over to the couch, setting him down. Brandon groaned in pain. Troy went to get the ice pack and some Advil. He offered them to the boar.
“Thanks.” Brandon said, gulping down the pain killers with a glass of water. “I’m sorry I’m such a pain.”
“No Brandon. I’m sorry.” Troy said, very sincerely. “Take your time and relax. You can sleep here tonight. Let me cancel the spell.”
“So you’re gonna change me back?” Brandon frowned.
“First one’s free, big guy.” Troy shrugged, pointing at the pig.
“Can you… at least let me stay like this for the night?” Brandon asked, rubbing his sore back. “I mean, it is better than when I was a human or an Ermine. Boars are meant to be heavy.”
Troy sighed and lowered his hand. “Sure, but only if you stay here, at my place.”
“Do you… mind if I sleep on your bed? My back injury kinda means that I’ll never make the drive home tomorrow if I sleep on your couch.”
“You wanna… sleep in bed with me?” Troy gulped, staring at Brandon and wondering if he should get that close to someone he was gonna… you know… transform and sell.
Brandon laid his pudgy hand on his and looked into Troy’s eyes. “Yeah. Would that be a problem?”
“No! No problem.” Troy swallowed.
“So what are you going to be tonight?” The boar asked.
“What?” Troy blinked.
“Come on, really? You never thought of changing yourself?”
“No.” Troy replied honestly. He’d never really been into furries, like Dustin had. Sure, they were hot and he appreciated them for that, but he had no real compulsion to change himself.
“Then I’ll choose for you.”
“I never agreed-” Troy protested.
“Something fluffy, that I can rest on. Hmmm. Oh! You know, there was this hot photo of a Highland Bull and a boar tucked under his arms. Be that!”
“You want to recreate a drawing you found hot in real life?” Troy asked.
“Why not? We can, right? You’ll do it?”
“I…” Troy looked around, unsure of what to do. “Wanna record it?”
“Would you have to move your cameras and stuff?”
“Yeah.” Troy said. “It might take me-”
“Then don’t bother. Come on, I’m tired and I need a big fluffy bull to lie on!”
Troy blushed and pointed at himself, imagining a Highland Bull. “Alright, then. Half.”
Immediately, he felt a wave of warmth and tingles rush through his. His spine popped as he grew taller, head growing heavy as large horns unfurled from the sides of his skull. His muscles heaved forward, abs growing into cobblestones. Troy was growing big and huge, but the way his body was designed told him he could have been even bigger if he were more muscular. Shaggy red-brown fur, almost a direct match to the one the boar sported, sprouted form his pours. His hands and feet shifted into hooves, though his hands still retained their digits.
“Perfect.” Brandon grinned up at him.
Troy wobbled, feeling vertigo as his vision rose higher, and a tufty tail popped out of his spine.
“Uh, thanks.” Troy said, his voice deep and resonant, looking down at himself.
He was a massive, thick, animalistic bull man. Even his cock was growing long and thick and strangely pointed. He’d expected something like a horse cock, but apparently bulls were different. Whatever. He felt powerful.
“Can you help me to bed?” Brandon asked.
Troy swallowed. “Sure thing.”
Carefully, making sure not to put too much weight on his back, Troy lifted the boar up. He carried him into his room and looked around for a good spot to place him on the bed. He ended up shuffling, horns smacking into the walls and the ceiling fan, and gently placing him on the left side of the bed.
“Oh!” The big boar puffed as Troy helped settle him in bed. “Slowly! There.”
Troy settled in besides the big, bristly furred boar, laying on his back. The board promptly scooted over gingerly and laid his head on Troy’s thick, fluffy chest fur. Troy watched him, wondering why he was letting things go so far. He should be keeping his distance, but Brandon was just… kind of a sweet guy, really.
"Can you... touch me?" Brandon asked, the boar looking up at Troy, ears flopping into his pretty blue eyes.
"Touch you?"
"It's just... it's been a while, you know." The boar said, nuzzling into his chest.
Troy reached down and gingerly wrapped his hooflets around Brandon's spiral cock. "Like this?"
"Mmm." Brandon said, snuggling closer. "Thanks."
With his other hand, the shaggy bull gently prodded and massaged the boar’s back, targeting the inflamed muscles. Brandon groaned and wriggled as Troy pressed firmly and deeply, massaging the tissue to the best of his ability. He hoped the boar got better soon, because selling him like this was out of the question.
“That feels really good.” Brandon said, staring up at Troy, his eyes making Troy’s stomach do fluttery things. His own hoofed hand reached over and gently began stroking Troy, not taking his eyes off the handsome bull man. “Does that feel good?”
Troy moaned in response and bent down, kissing the boar. They made out, slowly stroking each other. Brandon’s other hooflet dipped between Troy’s legs and gently parted his cheeks. A thick hooflet gently penetrated Troy’s hole, the feeling alien yet wonderful. Troy bucked, precum spilling from his huge cock, as Brandon began prodding his prostate.
The bull huffed, finding himself growing closer and closer to orgasm, the slow, gentle strokes on his cock, the intentional brushes on his medial ring, the firm prods on his prostate, it was growing too much for him to take.
“Brandon…” Troy murmured into the boar’s mouth.
“I know you’re close. Go ahead.” Brandon murmured back. "Think of it as me saying thank you. I never thought that something like this could really happen, but for the first time in a while I'm really happy."
Troy snorted, trying to hold back, wanting the poor boar to cum, knowing it might be the last time. But the prods and strokes were relentlessly persistent and oh so gentle. Brandon was quite the attentive lover. Seeing him struggling, the boar bent his neck and softly took Troy’s big cock in his mouth and suckled on the tip.
He moaned and came, hard, buck bucking into Brandon’s muzzle. The boar swallowed him down, throat bobbing. His orgasm slowed a few seconds later and he flopped back onto the pillow.
“Good night.” Brandon said, snuggling into Troy’s side again and removing Troy’s hoof from his cock. “That was just what I needed.”
Soon, the boar’s snores filled the room, and Troy found himself drifting off to sleep to join him.