"Safe & Secure" written by K.Rooste
“Safe & Secure”
By, Adobe Fats, and Kevin Rooste
One priority mail package, packed with exceptional care, tape on every flap of the box, top and bottom sealed, labeled to and from, a gift to the best friend a fellow could have!
Bill jumped in his car, the package setting on the passenger seat, and he was off to the post office.
The expectation of his good friend receiving this package had Bill in a state of levity. He felt so wonderful that seeing the local bread store on his way, he stopped and purchased his favorite treat, a small bottle of chocolate milk, and a dozen powdered donuts.
His drive was rather long across town to the post office, as the thought of eating his treat became overwhelming. Soon, the milk bottle set open in the console of his car. The donuts were quite messy and although the box and gift were special, they could become an excellent place for setting his donuts.
Seventeen miles to the Post Office, and upon arriving Bill set the remaining few donuts on the car floor, grabbed his package and headed inside, eager to see his gift on its merry way.
The Post Office was quite busy, nine people ahead of Bill, but he stood patient and smiling, waiting for his turn at the service window.
Not too long of a wait and he was next to the service window. The busy day had continued as more people wishing to mail items now stood behind Bill. Then he heard the woman behind the counter say, “Next,” as this was his queue to step up and present his box for weighing and payment of postage.
The woman took hold of Bill’s boxed gift, slamming it unceremoniously down quite hard on the weigh scale. She quoted the price of shipping, turned to face Bill, and saw collected about her scale a white ominous powder.
Suddenly a Claxton buzzer screamed its alert; men came from every direction, as the woman teller screamed, “Poison!”
The people standing behind Bill ran for their lives, one having a cell phone dialed a quick 911 call and alerted the local police.
Screaming Claxton and wailing sirens all fell on poor Bill. In just minutes he was arrested, charged a terrorist, and on his way to meet the some new exotic department of the federal government.
Naturally, Bill pleaded he was innocent of the charges, but everyone who eyed him only thought the worst. His one free phone call to an attorney friend ended quickly, when hearing the charges, his friend just hung up the receiver.
That night the local and national news crucified Bill, demanding the death penalty, not even suggesting if he should be proved guilty, as that seemed a given already!
The government sent their top people to speak with Bill, asking questions of how many more boxes had he sent out dusted with poison, nary a wondering if the powder were sugar or something dangerous. Days went by, as time after grueling time, the governmental men questioned Bill, yelled at him, and warned if he dared not confess they would make him sorry he lived past his arrest.
On the morning of Bill’s third week of constant interrogation, a tough faced man delivered a news bulletin to the men asking all the questions. The government men read it several times and then went into a huddle to discuss their options. The laboratory report, a chemical analysis giving the properties of the alleged poison, telling the powder was a grade #2, white, powdered, sugar, and not poisonous in the least!
As usual, two men gruffly dragged Bill from the integration room back to his dark and dank cell three floors below the street level. There they tossed Bill into his cell, slamming the door as if angered that Bill was indeed innocent. Excited the authorities knew of his innocence, Bill sat ready for his release.
Days turned to weeks and other than the guard bringing food and removing the trays, Bill sat alone and ignored.
Bill would scratch a mark in the gray plaster wall, one long scratch for every day of his incarceration. At last, on an afternoon of some unknown day, two men came to see him, both looking like the Blue’s Brothers from the movie of the same name. As dark as was Bill’s cell, both men kept their sunglasses on and black hats atop their pointy-heads.
Bill listened to how they were going to let him slip out the rear door of the jailhouse, desiring no reporters to speak to Bill, wanting the legal dust to settle and push the embarrassing situation under some dirty rug.
Then Bill had his turn to speak, he laughing at the two, saying first he needed a statement read to the press admonishing him as innocent of all charges. Secondly, he wanted a letter in writing, and signed by their director, also admonishing Bill of all charges. Then with his “dander up,” he told these two just how dumb this sham was, stupid to the extreme, and nothing more than some lame bureaucrats needing something to show they were doing something to protect the country.
Both men looked at the other and turned quickly to walk out of Bill’s cell. One turned, looking back, reached into his coat pocket, taking out a small package, and tossing it onto the cot in the cell. As the cell door closed and locked, the man spoke to Bill saying, the package was an easier way to put this situation to rest.
The men walked away quickly, stopping only to talk with the head guard for a few moments.
Bill sat there wondering if he had asked for too much, that is when the guard came to the cell. He was all smiles and laughing at Bill, the man suggested Bill open his package and gain true freedom.
Flopping on his cot, Bill tore open the small paper wrapped package. Inside he found a note, and a syringe filled with a twinkling blue liquid.
Bill looked at the note, as he remembered every word. “You and what you did to our agency has become a national embarrassment to us, and our departments. Enclosed, is a syringe holding a top secret, and very special serum. You may decide to remain permanently imprisoned, or using the syringe will allow your release into our witness protection service. As after using the syringe expect to see some changes physically, this will make your new life a good bit easier. A promise of you’re a life, long term of protection and a life of general relaxation, and time to seek personal enjoyment and a sense of gratification. Once you utilized the syringe, call the Guard, he will arrange your release and transport the place we know you shall be safe and secure, where none there shall know of this situation.”
It seemed his release was not forthcoming as per his wish, but rather in some sneaky way for these government men to cover their mistake. The injection seemed his only way to get out of jail, and after a quick poke, he called for the Guard.
The syringe made Bill feel weird, sick to his stomach, and increased his feelings of anxiety.
When at last the Guard arrived to release Bill, the rotten sensations had built to where Bill was nearly unconscious. He knew the guard helped him to get to his feet and stumble along. He knew how the outside air felt so pure and wonderful, Bill remembered two other men taking him and tossing him into a truck, making him feel as if he was little more than a sack of grain.
The truck moved with an odd vibration, it seemed to awaken Bill, making him alert, and he instinctively knew what seemed best for him was jumping out from the truck as it waited for a passing train.
Free for the moment, Bill staggered along as if drunk, but he had nothing to drink just an injection, something he thought then was maybe a mistake. A mind filled with foggy thoughts, Bill felt his guts growling, and he noticed how much his feet began to hurt.
Hitchhiking helped cut the distance and time for Bill to arrive at his apartment. As he stood there gawking at the curbside, seeing everything he owned, his furniture, clothing, and all what he had in his seven-room apartment now lay tossed in a pile.
Immediately he knocked on the apartment manager’s door, angered and suspecting the governmental charges had a lot to do with this whole mess. One angered woman answered the door screaming her disgust with his kind, she told how he was out, and she, or her husband wanted anything more to do with him.
Noise from outside had Bill seeing a bunch of people sorting his stuff, taking what they wished and leaving him busted and broke.
Now anxiety and nervousness added to his many woes, he walked down the street, seeing people he knew and feeling their hatred, they all had passed judgment on Bill.
Come night he was really feeling down, a passing man had slugged him in the eye, turning to a dark red ring about eyes filled with tears. His eye hurt, head ached, as then too his groin, shoulders, legs and feet all had differing ways to exert pain.
The underside of an expressway bridge offered at least a dry place to rest. Bill lay there hearing the roar of cars and trucks hurtling though the night.
Feeling tired, depressed, and exceptionally weak, he drifted off into a deep sleep and slumber.
It was near midday when Bill awoke, groggy, blurry eyed his headache much worse, and oddly, his shoes had fallen off from aching feet. Laying or sitting either felt bad, his butt ached as if he had fallen on his tailbone and injured it. He sat there trying to think a clear idea for finding a friend, and a safe place to stay.
His mind seemed disjointed, try as he might, he could not think straight, falling to his right side, Bill fell asleep. This time, it was already dark of night when he awoke, and sitting up he caught his head in the iron beams that held up the roadway.
Nervous and very anxious moments passed, until with some rough effort, Bill wrenched his head free from the beams. Reduced to crawling out from under the bridge, when Bill finally got himself out into the moonlight, he tried to stand up.
His legs felt weak and shaky, head ached yet, but what he noticed quite quickly was his shirt and pants had ripped their seams and lay in a heap on the ground.
Bill thought it odd he did not feel a chill, being he was naked and minus all his clothing. He thought it best to be clothed anyway, as he reached one hand to pick up his loosened clothing, he would have screamed in surprise. A truth was realized, he knew of what the blue twinkling liquid in the syringe could do, as Bill saw in place of a human hand, he had a cloven hoof.
His anxious anxiety feelings begat his snorting like a bovine agitated by something it felt a lack of trust. Bill began to take note of different things, his head for one, was then larger, heavy of bone, and held on a massive neck made of enormous muscles.
Looking down along the length of his different body, Bill saw his skin had darkened, turning black and leathery to the touch. He felt how the black skin grew a coat of black and brown hairs, as these seemed to cover him from head to hoof, keeping him warm.
Groaning, Bill knew down deep the syringe was the cause, but he did not believe his own eyes, until with the personal need to urinate, he watched as it dribbled out a hairy pouch attached to his belly. Hung just below where he still had a navel, the urine trickled down his then sheath, the urine soaked his hair in its stench, trailing down to his groin and dribbling off two of the larges testicles he had ever seen!
Those wild sights and scenes added to his anxious feelings over what he saw, only making him feel a tail sway and swing, slapping it to his thighs, Bill realized this was then part of those physical changes he read in the note.
Instincts might have played a part, maybe bovine or human, but Bill arrived at my home on a cold and wet April morning. His face had some of his human characteristics, allowing me to recognize him after a moment of staring at this beast standing on my front porch.
Luckily, I live to myself and alone, so suggesting to Bill he might be more comfortable in the stables out back, we went there and he snuggled into a big box stall used for horses when breeding. His ability to speak hampered by thickened lips and a tongue made for doing what a bull does with his tongue. I surmised what had happened, knowing Bill and the government boys, they being easily overwrought, brash, and bold, wanting to pin the tail on any donkey, rightly or otherwise.
Bill kept pointing to his arm, making a gesture as if his arm received and injection. He had held gripped with a clutched foreleg and hoof his torn clothing. As if satisfied and feeling safe, he dropped the worthless rags, as I scooped them up a paper note fell from his shirt pocket.
Reading the note I stopped to look at Bill, he listening began to snort as if becoming angry. The witness protection service was never like this, they placed people into society, not changing them into animals, like what had become of Bill.
I consoled my friend, offering he might stay and remain on my small country estate, living to his delight, safe and secure!
As Bill found some sort of acceptance for becoming a bull, I thought of him as another governmental covered up, no body to hide; the only trail leads to a stall, a pasture, and to a bull that under the law of the land, he has not even a single right. I saw in him a stout and healthy bovine bull, worthy to place for sire, and once he got the hang of things, he too found a new joy for living free of the tethers which bind us who remain on as humans. ...
Show me the story at BeastForum.com or more information about K.Rooste
K.Rooste also wrote these stories:
Where I Am King / Tf Story
Safe & Secure
An Epic Of Lust
Buffalo Bill
Over Done
Pinned With Excitement
Just A Visit (tf Story)
The Graduating Class (transfromation Story)
“perfect Anonymity”
Last Time As A Man
An Epic Of Lust Part Ii
Actions & Beginnings (a Tf Story)
"if You Dare"
Ever Feel The Urge
All From A Blind Date
"memories"
The Curse Of Chastity
A Thing For Greed
"power Of Persuasion"
Early Damnation
Enjoying The Time Of His Life
A Business Trip To Hell
All In Good Time
My Final Story For B.f. "sensual Enough"
Just For A Visit
"just For A Visit" (for My Good Friends
Truely Permanent
Getting Prepared For Hell
With Time To Kill
Married Dreamer
Enhanced Security Helps
A Profound Experience
A Matter Of Appreciation
Red Neck
Feeling Cocky
Membership Of One
Screwball Prank
Secure And Safe
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