"Cure What Beguiles" a fantasy by K.Rooste
This is a fantasy story of one way to grant easy access to what beguiles so many...erasing all legal problems
“Bob was a good friend, a very good friend, and a friend in need becomes a friend indeed!”
We grew up in the same town, lived only a block away from the other, played sports went everywhere; or did until what happened one dark, moonless night.
The summer vacation after we graduated from high school and Bob who loved to ride his ten-speed bike would cycle over hill and dale if just for fun and having time alone to think of his future.
When the evening newspaper arrived, on the front page there placed a news article about a missing person, it was about Bob.
According to the reported accounting of the local Sheriff, good friend Bob as discovered lying naked in a farm barn, his clothing neatly folded and set outside the stall of a two-year old pony mare.
So suggested in the write up, but Bob tested and the mare too, it said he had molested the pony.
In the weeks that followed, Bob went through a hellish time of sneering friends and indignant people, all shaming him before the truth be known.
“Truth,” a thing that is now days manufactured to draw people to listen and hear the advertisements for whatever the sponsor wishes to sell.
Judification of laws came then quickly and without any mercy for Bob or his stunned parents.
Sentencing, Bob would enter prison, serving at the least five years, and or twenty if he did not learn to behave in a prudent and properly moralistic fashion. The thought of Bob in prison, would he learn morality and modesty there, it seemed unlikely.
Bob wrote to try to explain to his good friend just what happened.
We communicated for many months, the post office clerk-taking note of the letters and to whom such bared as addressed. This caused more talk, innuendo flew about town and it happened one afternoon the Sheriff came visiting, he warning our family of continued conversing with a know sexual predator might bring charges against us all.
Bob was not a sexual anything; never a more moral person walked the earth than was such a good friend!
One letter arrived, it came from Bob, after his transfer from state prison to the Thule Research Foundation, and it located in Billings, Montana.
Bob received many a bad beating by inmates and others; they all had a bleak opinion of what was a nice person.
The prison Physiologist informed Bob of a medical study involving sex offending zoophiles, and if mentioned of curing them permanently of ever again accused of that lurid offence. It was as if a cure for what the state thought ailed Bob. He made mention it seemed he had nothing to lose and only a more professional, peaceful place to serve out his sentence. Bob accepted the transfer, but after just the one letter, he never wrote again.
As months passed, and a year went by, there beget a thought of writing a letter to that foundation; as if only to inquire, wondering about whatever happened to friend Bob.
What came in response to many letters was from a Professor Haun, he, as according to his credentials suggested he was the managerial person over all zoophile offensive prisoners. He wrote of making great strides in both mental and physical adaptation, and of how friend Bob received a pardon and transfer to begin serious work as at the Milwaukee zoo.
Writing then to the zoo, asking about Bob, the zoo personnel department wrote back of they not having anybody employed there by that name, not even did they have an employee by the first name of Bob. In levity, the person writing back made mention the only Bob they had there at the zoo was a mature stallion Zebra by the name of Bob.
Waiting and wondering, the thought came of inquiring at the foundation in Montana about working there, of asking for a job of any kind.
Oddly, an application for employment and or volunteering arrived, shown to parents they were not too thrilled about their son moving far away and residing in Montana.
A quick reply and filling out the necessary information, the listing of friend Bob as a once employed person there at and by the foundation seemed a good way to introduce a person wishing to learn what happened to Bob.
Bob, Bob, Bob, all the time there was many questions as to what all happened, why did he do something so out of character to his true beliefs, it all made no sense!
“Greetings,
Your application for employ here at the foundation level is as denied. However, if still interested, entry-level status work is available, and by filling out the enclosed application, said such desired employment at Sunrise Research Farms of Appleton, Wisconsin has openings.
As made mention in the applications and letter, your friend Bob does work through the Wisconsin office, he presently is on a long-term sabbatical study of the mating rites of the African Zebra.
Most Sincerely,
Professor H. E. Haun
Deciding as to where one should begin looking for Bob, the rather obvious suggestion seemed the better course to follow. Accepting then to work in some menial manner is about what you might expect, but upon getting to Sunrise Research, they offered a few surprises.
Upon arrival, the meeting with a Doctor Luscious Dubois and his several associates, each of which looked at the new recruit, as if at an animal auction and planning to buy.
After handshakes all around the Doctor left and the technicians took over, conferring many tests, some mental awareness sessions, and physical enduring of challenges such as running, jumping, and standing on tiptoes, arms held front forward, yes closed, and in a continuous exercise of deep breathing and harsh exhaling of spent breath.
That day and the next two weeks had much of the same odd testing and not a word to the recruit as for what this all meant to him.
Finally, the testing ceased and a weekend of free time had a tired person taking the bus to Milwaukee and the city zoo. Once on the inside the main fence, the plan was to venture to see the Zebra confinement.
Standing or seated, watching and waiting until such time seemed appropriate, then approaching the fence, the calling of the name Bob made even the caller think he was nuts.
“Bob…Bob…Bob…!”
As if from down and inside, there in the confinement came as an answer the whimpering sound of a Zebra as if in agony.
Moving toward where the sound seemed to originate, the sad looking Zebra stallion stood there listening to a name broadcast that he could recognize; as meanwhile the calling of his body tried to seduce him into acting like would a stallion stud of a Zebra.
“Bob…?” Said in a questioning tone, as for seeing what seemed as much to answer to the spoken name, the form did not look to this person like the person once called as a friend. Standing there stood a mature but still young and very sleek of form, male Zebra.
The young male had going an arousal of major proportions, he smelling the wafting musky scent of four Zebra mares also standing nearby.
The occasional calling the name Bob aloud caused the Zebra to turn around, and when facing the fence, it cut loose a braying cry that caused all walking past to stop and gawk.
“How, how could what stands there being of animal form and acting like an immoral uncaring stallion, this male Zebra acted as if he knew the name and wanted to express his feelings.”
The clicking of a camera shutter was then the only sound this one would dare use as a reply. It meant a lot right then, but to the Zebra, it meant little as after twenty minutes of various callings and replies, he wandered to the Zebra mares, choose one of them and began his learn ritual to mate with one.
The constant watching of how any a Zebra stood there and did whatever seemed natural, held the attention of a young and still foolhardy young man, as the security cameras kept on eye for trouble and recorded who was close to the fence.
Upon the return trip back to Appleton and to the research center employee housing unit number two; when entering inside the considered private room, there sat a disgusted Doctor Dubois.
“Had a fun day, anything you would care to talk about?” The Doctor asked, he looked at his employee as if angered and like a father disgusted with one of his children.
“Yes, after a phone call to the Milwaukee zoo and speaking there with a rude woman by her name of Gisela, she made fun of the asking about Bob, the friend you said was on a long-term sabbatical there to learn more about Zebra mating rituals.
Even without her help, the calling of his name, yelling into the confinement, Bob, Bob, and a third time more Bob…! An answer came from one young but fully mature male stallion Zebra standing near the fence, butt toward the onlookers, as if a Zebra might feel somehow embarrassed.
After all, if you remember that kiddy joke of what is black and white and red all over, why an embarrassed Zebra, right?
Well then Bob answered, and kept trying his darnedest to communicate his various feelings, especially those dealing with what all he had since learned about the mating rituals of Zebras.
Bob was there, he is as one of the Zebra stallions!
Bob can remember his human name, he knew his good friend, feeling elated at the coming to visit him, he brayed loud and as if tickled. Yet his male Zebra inclinations won the day and he wandered off to meet and mate with a Zebra mare having her sensations of desire and bestial needs.” So said I, and boldly to the manager and main scientist-curator there at Sunrise Research.
The doctor sat there for a long minute before he keenly stared at me, and asked then, “If offered would you care to join Bob, Robert in his long-term sabbatical there, you becoming as a Zebra stallion too?
Or, if that seems to tame for your liking, we have a very similar such volunteer duty scheduled, and you might like being a Cape buffalo bull for some five years or longer!”
“How was such thing possible, the massive and drastic changing of a human being into the form of an animal, a Zebra or some bull?” Surprised one did ask, as much as seeing of Bob to be then a Zebra stallion and liking it, the thought of joining him and be too a stallion Zebra made for some shaky feelings.
The doctor told me to consider the matter, as and since I had learned the secret of what about Bob, he assured then that something similar needed doing to assure the secret became again as a secret.
A pointed index finger detonated on the end table by the side of the bed set a thick ledger book, it a photo registry of all the previous transformations as done to the many people of who had learned too much, too quickly.
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K.Rooste also wrote these fantasies:
Menage (rie) A Trois
Pipeline Survey
Fantasy Story "time Enough To Remember"
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Fated Story Of "a One Night Stand
Pipeline Survey (revised)
Where I Am King
"tempting" A Story Of Transformation
Going Off Half Cocked
Mattering How You Look At It!
Ways Of Appreciation
Pony Up To Your Fence
Playing A Part
Fond & Fool Wishing
A Permanent Vacation
Like A Fantasy Nightmare
Only In My Dreams
Brothers In The Flesh
Fantasy Video
Professional Understanding
Cure What Beguiles
Really!
In The Park
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