As Steve entered the employee locker room, he had a nagging suspicion that something weird was going on--beyond the changes he had made. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, though. Maybe he was just horny. It took a lot of orgasms to satisfy his horse nuts, and it didn't help that Mark had stopped fucking him with that dildo before he came.
"Wait a second," Steve thought. "Was demonstrating product always part of o my job description? That's unusual, isn't it?" He decided to sit down and use the app to figure it out. It take a little, but it finally generated a sentence he could use.
"The horse-hung employee wonders about the nature of his employment."
Steve changed "wonders" to "knows", and his head is filled with about his job. He works for a store called "The Barnyard", a nationwide chain of porn stores catering to gay animal men and their admirers. He's a floor associate, which the management embarrassingly calls "models". Steve reflected that he had been kind of naive when he started, thinking that the title of "model" meant that he'd be a male model and show up in the store's catalog or television commercials. Part of his job duties were product demonstration. He knows he must have been fucked like that a million times in the store, but why could he only remember that time earlier today?
Steve is jolted out of his reverie by the resonant bass voice of Carlos, a coworker whose shift was just starting. Steve returned Kevin's greeting and tried not to stare to hard at him. The guy was a total snack--a 5'7" goat-tailed guy of Brazilian heritage with strikingly blue eyes and the best pecs Steve had ever seen. Steve didn't think he'd ever have a chance with the guy--a dude that handsome would be beating off guys with a stick! Carlos clearly knew about Steve's infatuation, and always made a point of slowly undressing right in front of him.
Steve realized someone else had to be changing reality as he watched Carlos' pants and shoes disintegrate. Before his eyes, Carlos' legs turned woolly, and his feet turned into hooves. Carlos' pants were replaced b a mini-kilt that barely covered his ass. Steve looked at the satyr before him and had a strong feeling of disorientation. He looked down at his own legs, and they were the same brown-furred horse legs he'd had all his life. His hooves looked a little dull, and he made a mental note to polish them before he went out to the bars tonight.
"Wait," Steve thought. "I just watched Carlos turn into a classical satyr, and I'm contemplating polishing my hooves, which I can't remember ever doing before." He glances at the app.
"Steve is a horse satyr employed by the Barnyard, a porn shop catering to gay satyrs and their admirers."
That seemed right, so Steve figured he must just be imagining things. He looks up from his phone to see Carlos' ass right in front of him, his tail raised and asshole winking.
"Earth to Steve! Can you help me with my stretches or not? You know how randy the night crowd is, and I don't want to have to do a dildo demonstration without some prep."