“Cameron wants to train her tight pussy to safely take her boyfriend’s horse cock."
You snatch another look at the sleek, black box, and smile broadly. StableMaster's products ranged from the mild-mannered Pony model (6 inches) to the gigantuan Clydesdale: 20 inches of illustrious horse dildo. Though what usually mattered more than anything to the clientele was the girth of the thing. You know, if Cameron is like other women (and more) who had come in over the years, there was no "real" way to train a pussy up to a guy's horsecock - at least, not in your experience. You just got in there. You had to accept that a week's worth of soreness was in your future.
That being said, the 8-inch model - the Centaur model - was probably best for starters and adventurers alike. Which brought forth a most peculiar idea: what if she didn't need the dildo at all? It wasn't in your best interest to purposely blow a sale, but you were having too much fun with this app. It didn't seem like there were any consequences to your changes, and who's to say you couldn't force sales using this thing? A fun solution was staring back at you.
So you took the generated sentence, replaced "horse" with "centaur", and pressed OK to accept the change.
Instantly, the room shifted beneath your feet. You barely held on to your phone as you saw the back storage room grow to twice its original size. But its sparseness wasn't filled in with additional products or anything - it was simply bigger now. This would take some getting used to.
But there was no time to conceptualize further. Your own body felt off-balanced, and you quickly guessed why. Your black pants disappeared from sight, leaving you with a white shirt and cowboy hat for a uniform, but naked from the waist down. A full layer of deep brown - almost black - furry hair covered the front and back of your legs, and your ass inflated at such a quick and fast rate that you stumbled into the shelving in front of you. Nothing and everything felt right. You grasped the shelving rails and held on. That quick decision allowed your new legs to reach the floor without falling onto them. Each of your toes disappeared into the long, bony legs of an adult horse, save for the middle toes - which now looked like hooves.
Mouth agape, you turned your waist to view the backside of your horse body extend its own luscious, blonde tail to match your head-hair. Last, but not least, you felt brazen with heat as the package between your legs swelled - an insatiable weight gathered there. You didn't need to guess what it was, but your mind knew with some strange unwarranted familiarity that it was your horse dick and balls. On display, no less.
It took no time at all, and yet, by the time it was done, your sense of self caught up to the present. No screaming, or stumbling, or sense of wrongness - you were a centaur; you had a centaur cock. And it's to be expected that centaurs have centaur cocks.
What didn't make sense was why changing this Cameron girl's boyfriend's cock made any difference to other cocks like yours. Not that you minded, but… well, did it really change?
Shrugging, you clopped back through the door gate to the area behind the front desk, taking note of the expanded store space. The mix of centaur men and human women roaming around the mall reminded you how lovely business got in the summer. A lot of those couples were mixed-species… but given your change, was it that crazy? It didn't really matter whether or not women preferred centaur or human cock; you just wanted whomever you were fucking to be able to take yours.
Well, actually, you preferred being sucked off, or rubbing your abs against another male centaur's chest. But that required a willing companion, and there weren't any other centaurs on staff.
"Trouble finding it?" Bella (Ben) asked as she walked over to you and took the StableMaster box from your hands. Shaking your head, she returned to the customer and set it on the counter. "Then you gotta quit staring into nothing…"
"My bad," you muttered as you straightened your forelegs.
"Actually... I think I'll be fine," Cameron replied, throwing her wallet back into her purse. "Graeme's not as big as... some other centaurs." She looked at you, and you blushed a little. Being "too big" was some people's pleasure and other people's pain. It was also a minor fetish for you, and you felt your equine dick swell a little more from the compliment.
Sexual frustration was nothing new at work. You just wished you could rub this thing out like humans do, but unfortunately it was against store policy. Despite the fact centaur horniness was visible to everyone, apparently it was ONE STEP TOO FAR for a sex store to allow public masturbation. And Bella would never offer to help you out… You stomped a hoof and turned around to your station. Oh well.
You needed to sell more Naughty Horse products today, and your lack of self control could get in the way of that. Then again, it also made for a prime demo opportunity - should the right type of client walk through the door.
That prayer was half-answered when a fellow centaur waltzed in. He was a few hands taller than you, and professionally dressed - a suit jacket, blue undershirt, and tailored shawl for his backside. His white and brown spotted fur was thin and patchy in places, but otherwise he looked perfect for his age. Noting your presence, he smiled and trotted to your station.
"Mind helping a fellow gent? I'm out of condoms..." the centaur said. "And quite suddenly, too."
"Do you want half- or full length?"
Raising an eyebrow, you smirked and gestured to your own backside. "Half means up to the ring. Some guys prefer that, and they're easier to get on, but you might leak out."
"Understood. Uh..."
The phone desk started ringing, and before you could say anything more to the man, he clopped away to peruse on his own. Frowning, you picked up the phone only to be played a phone scam recording about some extended car warranty. "Would love to meet someone who falls for this shit. I don't even drive," you say to yourself, slamming the phone down a little too hard.
You kind of wanted to continue talking with the centaur gentleman, but instead decided to generate a sentence with your app. Pointing it toward him, the phone came back with:
"Porter is contemplating which kind of centaur condom his wife would enjoy most."
Porter must be his name, Steve surmised. Hmm...