"Getting Prepared For Hell" written by K.Rooste
Getting Prepared for HELL -Revised
It all began after a queer day of doing my job; I began to feel sick to my stomach, deciding that going to bed would be best.
Irritations and thoughts of my afternoon interview with one weird woman were on my mind; but being weary, the deep slumbering sleep came over me. I began to dream a mixed bag of memories, of things seen and of what men fear; all became a tangle that demons likely think is funny.
Thrashing in my motel bed, I awoke from my horrifying dream. The sense of some imposing dread had me covered with sweat. As from my forehead to groin, I felt soaked. An uneasy feeling prevailed about my chest, as differing pains arouse, cramps and the like; giving me pains, some sharp and horrid while leaving me to moan and groan.
A horrible pain jolted through my two feet, as cramping muscles twisted and torque. The bottoms of my feet rippled, contorted, wrenching of pain; I rolled about in continuous agony.
The pain seemed to spark back memories, those of my conversation, or more likely an argument with that weird woman. As the mind dealt with the many pains I wonder of that cup of wine she demanded I take part in a toast; and making mention that by so doing, I should become more agreeable the next time we should meet.
Wonderment of if the wine I drank was then some poison, something to urge me to become as more willing, consoling to her demands.
Massaging did not offer any relief, leaving me to endure the almost unbearable amount of differing pains.
I tried not to scream from the torture, turning over I buried my face into a bed pillow, less I alarm those sleeping in nearby rooms. After all, I was a grown man, making a living, working, and tending to my responsibilities; but with this situation, I can do little but weather it unto some conclusion.
Adding to my pain was the memory of a dream.
Vividly, I remembered walking along in a dimly lighted long hallway, it had smooth and highly polished marble walls, floor, and the high ceiling seemed as all white and went upward into infinity.
My walking in the hallway was as part of a massive thronging crowd of people. Everyone was crammed together, all shoulder to shoulder, moving slowly forward, a few talking, some screaming, others pawing at the walls to get out. I saw some fighting and clawing at one another, as if in a mad frenzy of fear and horror for their situation.
There seemed no escaping the hallway! Resolute to stay the course, I work my with the crowd, meshing toward those marble walls.
I remember expecting them to be chilly cold stone, but instead, they are warm, and seemed to be getting all the warmer as the crowd pressed ever forward down the long hallway.
Odd it seemed that with these warming walls, one would expect the hallway itself to be gaining in warmth. Yet that odd feeling of cold air in the hallway only suggested to me some reason for concern. As the crowd moved ever forward it seemed the air had become then ever chillier.
The chill seemed to be the cause for my feet to cramp, making me shiver and shake all over, as I sat on the edge of my bed, feeling a mix of pain, and goose pimples popping everywhere on my body.
The scenes of my dream came at me, being as if vivid pictures of the thronging crowd as they all worked forward, moving blindly onward to some place; building in all there a sense of apprehension, as if knowing that something soon shall happen, to us all!
Returning sharp pains in my feet work up to envelope the heel of each foot, as it is causing a strange contortion. I stifle back my scream of pain, seeing to my horror as on both feet, the big toes stood bent, pointing upward.
This new pain was agonizing, tendons wrenched, as if they could have cramps like muscles, making me whine and moan, even calling upon greater powers for some sense of deliverance.
My vivid dream was bad enough, but awaking to these cramps and now a sensation of two Charlie horse cramps venturing into the calves of both legs was but adding to my torture.
I reel and twist, trying hard to keep the foot up, leg straight, and meanwhile bending at the waist to reach out and rub, massaging both legs and feet all at once.
Sweat is bubbling out of my skin, as I feel the pain and then from it comes horrid chills. I would call for help but being the only American in a small backwater town in the Brazilian rainforest, it assures me that no help is anywhere near.
An occasional suspension of my foot and leg pain returns me to remembering my dream. A flashback from my weird dream, I remember hearing people scream behind me; seeing then as a silver knight in armor was ridding a jet-black horse, pushing onward through the crowd. The scene remained prevalent in my mind’s eye. Ever charging, moving some people, trampling others, coming closer; as I think how he might offer some way to let me escape the fate we in the crowd seemed doomed to all be a part.
In my horrid anguish and fear for what is happening, I remember stepping directly in front of the charging horse.
Unflinching, I stood my ground as others begged me to move aside and not be trampled under the large animal’s mighty hoofs.
Charging at me, the animal came to an abrupt halt, the silver knight stopped his mighty steed. He then peers down at me, his eyes looking through a slit in his helmet. He gives me a considerate greeting motion of his hand, as if a gesture of honor to one as bold as me.
The crowd stops all movement, many bowing to the Knight, many looking at me with wonder in their eyes, asking who might be so bold as to stop this great horse and its rider.
Due to my moment of courage, he offered his granting me a way of reprieve.
All there are standing still or milling ever forward do watch, gawk, and peer over my shoulder, they were as my witnesses, watching the knight as he gave me a drink from a wine skin.
I burped, and the taste of red full-bodied wine comes into my mouth once more. I had a feeling this dream had some basis in my present reality. If it were somehow real, then this is where the poison came from, and what was causing me those agonizing pains. Whatever, the Knight was making me think about my future and the possibility of living the horror of moving daily closer to falling in Hell.
A hard jerking pain foretells the cramps were returning, moving up and into my thighs.
Strangely, these pains bring back the still vivid memory of my dream. The remembrance of when I drank of the wineskin, the Knight congratulated me, as he did inform all there of my choice.
I felt as if then of renown being one of a select group being granted and gifted, a change would come over me to ensure I would become more assertive, showing of dominance, and my position; meeting every challenge head-on!
Suddenly, drawn back to reality, the pain returned, increasing to such intensity that I nearly fainted. Twisting and rolling face down into my bed pillow, it made me scream again; what could I do? Unable to walk this way, or stand, it seemed like something wanted me tortured and paralyzed.
Blurry eyes filled with tear from the agony squinted, straining to see clearly of my legs and feet. The dim blue toned light of a full moon setting high in the night sky offers me a disturbing view. As if a reminder that it was the time of Halloween, I saw how that eerie moon glow made my legs appear different.
The moonlight cooled and quelled my horrid pains, allowing me to look again and wonder about my feet. A reaching pair of hands takes hold of feet that had narrowed, elongated, and enveloped my toes with the change.
An eerie blue glow surrounded feet and legs, the bones and muscles appearing different, I saw my toes, there were no longer five digits, but having merged and melded they now formed two black lumps. As then feeling of them, I had flashbacks of the village and of some large goats wandering about.
I remembered how angry and intent that large woman looked down on me. She scowled, then slowly her face changed, becoming an evil smile suggesting of her diabolical thoughts.
She spoke of her anger, and how another came to her with some similar proposal, he, and then I would know of her wrath; but I would sacrifice everything only to help the village support itself.
Much of her words escaped me remembering, but she did remark about one large gray haired goat. She pointing at it, making all look as the beast was grunting and rutting a smaller nanny goat.
The Madame Ojo as she called herself, made a comment about the nanny named Mona, and of her elder suitor, he the male goat humping her with what strength, as an old goat had left due to his age.
Odd remarks, they seemed to include me, but how and to what promise I could not then discern. I did remember something about the elder male goat, how as he worked and rutted the nanny goat, his front cloven hoofs did wiggle. It was an out of character movement, as if he were trying to grip or grasp as the hair covering the nanny goat’s back. He seemed to be using his cloven hoofs as if hands, like we as human do!
My thoughts of what I had seen in the village faded, as feeling of cloven hoofs and my changed feet were then identical to those of that large male goat.
I thought I was going insane, seeing of how I was changing. The consideration of my pains ceased, I cared little over such, turning my rational mind to thinking of all this was as a purging of my body. I had an inkling idea, as one of those small thoughts that sometimes are more truthful than when we realize.
It was of my dream again, the Knight, his wineskin, and of his gift he granted unto me. The dream was if an after thought, making clear the happenings as I felt pains, and of how my legs were in the ways of change.
The Knight did mention of my coming preparation for a better way of life.
My mind wandered from the past to the present, giving a foreboding sense of anxiety. I looked at my feet, the legs, and of thighs becoming themselves changed too! Memories and my own realization helped me to understand; as of what Madame suggested would happen, that elder goat was to die, and I, would be as his replacement.
I gave forth a moan, but not from pain, instead, it came from a growing sensation of extreme sensual feelings in my groin.
The strange sensation was a part of an ongoing transition. Just minutes before, I had pleaded to higher powers for my deliverance from what was happening. At that very moment, my want had changed, becoming delighted from the raw sensation coming from my maleness.
Flopping to my back, I laid there placid and thrilled with my mind filling of all sorts of sorted ideas. It was as if then I was realizing the first onslaught of bestial instincts. As I lay then on the bed with my body and legs stretched taunt, stiffly straight.
Mindless I began toying with myself, rapture of strange sensations as from a changing groin, welled forth such pangs of desire.
Stiffening fingers fondled with furry and growing testicles. I felt my penis suck back into my groin, it churning, squirming, and snaking up into my lower abdomen.
I reached my hands down to stroke and finger through the spreading curls, as locks of sprouting gray and black hair.
The real thrill of a protrusion, my goat’s sheath, and from it began to jut a bright red knob. It drove me to a sense of panic, wanting to see all the more of it press forth, as becoming then erect, and be something of which I could be proud.
Legs and feet jerked and kicked, increasing the muscular tone of my goat like thighs. Glancing looks bade me smile, thrilled with my beastly changes, feeling delighted, and longing to realize what it will be like to stand on all fours, a beast, a male goat, a sire.
Even with all I saw and felt during those fleeting minutes, I fully realized my humanity was slipping away, and the changes to me were likely permanent; but I just did not have a care!
The moment of reprieve vanished as if two rivers of pain joined, merging into one terrible realization from each leg, my groin was then that of a true to form male goat. As if the pain from my legs were but the first reminder of what it felt to change from man to animal; then as it spread upward, I was tempted to end my life right then, and there.
Sweat drips from above my eyebrows; it trickles over a face contorting and writhing in pain. The pain brings on changes with it, the growth and spreading of the coarse feeling locks of hair. The hair too, changing as it grows into my groin, becoming silky, long strands do grace my genitals, adding in their own way some exceedingly sensual pleasures.
Paranoia comes upon me as I think back to the hundreds of written chapters at C.Y.O.C, and in other forums, all converging on a plan to sell my soul to any bidder. If that was just a premeditation of what was to come; but never once then did I want or wish to be a male goat.
Laughing at my pain, I lie back on the bed, and let be the agony take its course. Longing at the thought of my original fantasy delight, I wished rather to be the gallant Knight’s mighty stallion, than what I know is really happening.
A boiling, burning cramp in one’s groin is something to behold, but not anything you or I would wish to feel or have happen. It seemingly grabbed at my testicles, twisting them into some tight knot, while something jerked my pelvis upward.
I closed my eyes, wishing to God the pain would stop, but deeply I pleaded for it to continue, to force my change, as I had the first real desire to accept becoming a male goat.
Pain and then breathing mix, one happens and I draw a deep gulp of air. I exhale and with every round of this pattern, my head, body, groin, and legs flare with newly found strength.
In one instant, all pain is gone. I relax for a moment but from the end of my human spine there is a sensation that I fully know is a tail. It sprouts, growing forth, twitching and worming out of my rump to spread wide my buttocks, purging forth an anus that had never felt the warmth of a summer sun.
I begin to toy and play with moving my new tail. In one sense, I know it as damning me, but I find enjoyment in becoming soon an animal. The realization of having a tail wishes to remind me that this appendage is a benchmark that separates men from animals.
Morbidly my future wanes as the night wears onward. My pain turns to the changing of head and neck to that belonging properly on a goat.
I hear what sounds like some pain and agony ridden beast is screaming of its discomfort. The pleading bleats are coming from out of my changing mouth.
Terrified of all what is happening, I flip onto my back and tuck my legs tight to my body. My arms folded but as if then my new fore legs, I tried to plead for some bit of mercy; only to hear from my open mouth come the sound of some goat in agony.
Rolling to my right side, I can see the cheap alarm clock the motel front desk offered me. It shows the time. Two hours since the pain began and several hours more before I can go revisit Madame Ojo at her sheet tin village.
I could agree to her terms, she began my misery; it was within her power to quell all and let me escape this horrific fate.
Vague memories come as a reminder of what I know is going to be permanent. The vivid scene I can still see, of drinking wine for Madame Ojo, her sprinkling upon me some blessing of white powder, of my leaving the village, sick and coughing up blood. I had returned sleepy and sickly to my motel just outside the small town of Deloris in the high hills of Brazil.
I began to think this was all quite humorous, and laughing, my sounds were more bestial in nature, as if a goat were bleating frantically.
The spreading curls and locks of gray hair had by then coated me over from legs, butt, groin, belly, back, and up over my shoulders. The gray hair was coarse and curly thickest over my thighs and back, and spreading to envelope my shoulders, and upper arms.
Again, I let my body stretch out long and lean. Peering over my overly muscular chest, the sight reminded me of that huge gray goat, the one I remembered in the village, he having his fun with some horny nanny.
I felt chills and had shivers that raised such goose pimples that the very hairs that coated my body, all tingled. This tingling feeling brought on a strange longing, as if I was in dire need of a female.
I definitely had a need for release of a sexual urge. To this sense of desire, my testicles began to squirm. This increased my longing and need to feel myself humped over the rump and back of a nanny goat.
Shaking my head violently from side to side, I tried in futility to rid my mind of thinking in terms of me being and wanting things like do beasts.
Anguished by my bestial instincts coming to bare, demanding me to obey them, and from this I knew well my human existence was soon to fade.
My urgent need was rising to take total control of my very being. I saw then my goaty legs stretched out stiff and straight. The goat feet also extended, sticking straight out from the legs, as cloven hooves. They wiggled from some sensual induced form of goaty glee.
The absolute epitome of my total transition then protruded from the hank of hairs. They were but a tuff that sprang forth from my belly. It was my new sheath, made for a goat, and from it, stretched forth a deep reddish colored shaft.
Anxious anxiety had me crying by then. My whimpering whines of goat like bleats, sounding of some poor beast feeling the early desires of his coming time of Rut!
Some pelvic thrusts urged the red tip to move and grow out of my silky haired’ sheath. It quickly pressed out and up, blooming to a deep red colored shaft, thick at its base, tapering then to a puckered head, my goaty glands.
Surges of raw passion urged my pelvis to thrust harder, faster, as the pleasure came in quick rolling waves. The testicles squirmed even more, building in my groin into a coming response, one that when I was done, suggested the severing of all links with my being human.
I reached with what were hands moments before. They were as stiff fingers, pressed together as if that of Mr. Spock and his, “Live long and Prosper hand sign.” It was from this contortion they grew hard, changing into cloven hoofs, as metacarpal bones became as cannon bones, my wrists as then fore knees, and arms were as the upper legs of a strong male goat.
There stuck out straight and unfeeling like my cloven hooves, were my new fore hooves on forelegs, a part of how I must learn to move, walk, and run on all fours.
A demanding desire to be a sexually enhanced animal for Madame Ojo and her village was becoming my one and only reason for staying alive. My eyes tearing, at seeing my maleness taking the shape of an animal and goat, I was near going mad.
The bleating sound I produced was coming clearer as if my throat and larynx had succumbed too the onslaught of change.
Pursing lips tried the act of reaching for what types of food I would in time realize was but the only sustenance enjoyed by being a goat. My mouth, tongue, teeth, and jaw adjusted together in a smooth transition, while other changes to my skull and the sinus glands caused me great discomfort. I felt things moving, my ears growing, becoming mobile in movement. The change set my eye sockets further apart; this was the most annoying part of my changing. It is impossible to describe the sensation of being blurry blind; then as the eyes themselves adjust it made me nauseous, and totally off balance.
Accordingly, by that point in time my changing of form and species had made my bed a literal mess of body fluids, hair, and the stinking smell of my sweat.
I slipped from off the bed with my hind legs and hoofs. The fore legs held to the bed as from my building desire to know and feel what life might be like, being a goat, I began to masturbate myself.
Squirming of the pelvis and from some jerking and imaginative humping of some nanny, this goat shaft quickly sprang out erect. As my red and hot feeling penis skidded over the furry feeling wool blanket lying partially upon my bed, it was what I imagined was the sensation of some nanny goat’s rump.
A dozen humping stabs of my naked shaft over the coarse blanket, and my shaft began to spew forth a virtual flood of white juices, white semen, and sticky globs of yellow, all goat species semen.
Seeing this happen, smelling the change of scent from human sweet smelling semen and then the rank odor of that seed a male goat spews inside a nanny; I knew my life as being human was then over!
That moment of sweet delight was but short-lived. In the instant when I knew the scent of my semen had changed; someone flung open the door to my room.
There standing in the dark is Madame Ojo, she and her little friend Benji, were there to collect me for a life of pain and troubles.
In silence and some reverence for this huge woman, I watched, as she had to waddle as she walked into my room. She said nothing, just had that vile looking grin walking up to stand beside my bed. She eyed me for a moment, as if taking visual inventory of the man she had changed into a large goat.
The feeling then of her hand touching the crest of my goaty skull sent shivers of horror through the length and girth of my hairy body. I felt as if I had become as her dog, and then petted by my master. This was a wretched feeling, but what was worse, was the sudden full realization that I, me, was then a large male goat she planned to use as a beast to breed with nanny goats.
Her face tells me everything of the intent she has in her mind.
In horror and total silence of all there, I can do nothing but stand there as that Benji holds open my mouth. The Madame Ojo then pours from a yellow gourd, a thick black liquid, letting it string down and trickle inside my open mouth.
It begins to cause a burning sensation in my throat, and spread then to envelope my entire body. Worse was the fiery pain that welled up down and in my groin. I nearly choke from the rank taste of the liquid, it coats my mouth and throat, tasting like oil mixed with manure.
As if to be a distraction for what the Madame has planned, Benji reaches his nimble fingers to touch and fondle my still erect, massive, male goat penis.
He strokes his small hand up and down the length of my lust-giving shaft. I feel him tickle my sheath hairs, fingering the girth of my shaft, he smoothes his cupped hand the length of my penis; jerking it to dribble some globs of semen from the flared tip. He laughs at me, fondling this sensual goat into a sensual doping, my maleness aroused and remaining erect, as he fingers my then enlarged and furry balls, urging me to spew forth any lasting little remaining embers of my human heritage.
I feel him toy with me. It is not giving me a bad feeling, but making me dream of future arousals, urging me to long for some wilder type of sensations yet to come. At that moment I took real note my maleness, and how then it resembled one I had seen belonging to that huge male goat at the village. I had become a complete duplicate of that big goat. As of what I could remember my physical changes had me as a male goat; knowing then the pangs of lust, and worse, I found myself as something pleasurable!
As some time later the Madame did remind me of that time when from Benji working me into a number self acts of masturbation, my casting off of the remaining human semen turned permanent my goaty damnation.
The Madame spoke to me, telling me my proposal the afternoon before was an insult to her and those of the village. She thought to kill me so I could not report her declining the offer. Instead, it was seeing her old sire trying his utmost to hump some woman named Mona; she had changed to be a nanny goat. Benji suggested to her the idea, one where I would replace the aging sire, and become more of use than some dead body.
I thought of what happened, and still happening then to me, as likely caused in part by my bold and brash manners. The Madame dealt harshly with any who would dare to treat her without proper respect. Some like what I learned later of Mona, she trying to make a deal with the Madame, changed her price at the last moment. This would anger most anyone, but this Voodoo witch was the wrong person to try and, change a deal.
Mona found herself being screwed by one dominate male goat of the village. The Madame working her powers to change a woman into one young and healthy breeder goat was for her true damning damnation.
One might think that I felt confused, but I did not! Although the size of my brain had shrunk, my memory of self and past life was exceptionally clear to me. The sensorium portion of my cortex was definitely that of a common goat, designed for me to learn grazing and accept what was available for me to ingest.
Benji had exception talent when using his hands. He would touch and feel anywhere on my body, whether stroking, fingering, or fondling, doing for me what I would before, when still able.
He took a harsh grip of my maturing goat horns, these having grown from out the peak of my forehead. They were to me my weapon and defense, but their roots wormed down into my brain causing an itch I could not reach to scratch.
Benji gave my head a soft shake, reminding me of two horns embedded as part of my skull, and giving me something to meet all challengers, head-on!
Madame then pushed the boy away. She began to speak again, and asking about what I remembered of my dream. She then recanted what the gallant Knight said to me. “A gift to me then granted, a new and very different way to forge onward, being assertive to show my dominance, position, and meet every challenge head-on!”
I saw her smile at me; she then took a deep breath, sighed, and began to confide in me of my dream and what the Knight actually meant.
A gift granted was preparing me to forge on with living life. I would become more assertive of my will and wishes upon others. She laughed at the possibility I might actually find the lifestyle of a male goat as something enjoyable.
I was to give of myself to those of my kind and or others, even to human females that the Madame thought needed some sort of special type of comfort.
I would, by being so virile, show my dominance and position myself above the nannies, or other females, offering them stark and raw sensuality; but without any thought of the word love!
Graced then was my head with great horns, as much to be a mark of my status, these were weapons to meet and fight for my continued dominance, meeting all who would dare to offer a challenge, and protection from wild beasts.
Her words sunk into my brain, tweaking the understanding that my life and form as a man was gone forever. As she had so changed me on that horrid night, so then was I one of her animals, a goat and permanently!
The realization of what she said, her damning me to be a male goat the rest of my life bade me to scramble on to four legs, turning from where Benji was still stroking my shaft, I stood upright, and with my forelegs, I fawned across her fat shoulders.
My hind legs splayed wide to give me a stable stance, I stood showing my genitals, testicles, and from my hairy sheath protruded one excited and erect piece of goat meat.
I knew myself then to be a male goat and well aware of my drastic change. In my moment of passion, I was willing to plead and pay anything to become a man again.
My pleading bleats met her obstinate attitude, some laughter, and a harsh pressing push down; to stand again as a goat should, on all fours.
It was then that Benji looped a golden braided rope about my long neck. It had power within its fibers, causing me to stop my reasoning of mind, and for a time, turning me to a nearly ignorant male goat.
I became placid and obedient, walking aside the young fellow, and slightly behind the huge woman.
When I arrived in the village of Ojo, Benji led me to meet my first responsibility. He had done this before, and like the others who became goats, I got a first hand education to my duties; it was mine to impregnate three nanny goats.
Benji was quite precise in his directions, helping me with the first nanny. He even held up my weary goat shaft to penetrate the tight lips of nanny goat sex. It was to me a personal revelation, unknown to anyone I was still a virgin male until that long and dreadful night.
My first mounting finished I stepped away from the nanny, dragging my half-erect shaft from out her body. I began to walk away, but Benji the teacher was there to inform me I had more to accomplish.
Surprised but not really able to show it, I stood and listened, hearing that to be correct and proper, I must mount and mate the nanny five times.
My three nannies brought out of me an impatient and anxious desire to know all the enjoyment I could get from being a male goat in the heat of rut.
I knew fully that Madame Ojo wanted me as a goat to be and feel humiliated. This being a male breeder goat was for me something I quickly found I liked, and felt totally at ease being a naked animal.
Whether it came from my decreased size of brain, or animal instincts, but whatever, I was ready to charge forward, be dominant, positioning my shaft, and meeting the challenge of satisfying, Madame, her village, the horny nannies, and my growing pangs for enjoyment of bestial lusts.
Therefore, I had then become a male goat. I was more than just an animal; being unrecognizable to those knowing and looking for me. I was to all in the village a grim reminder of who had the power. They all would see me wander the village streets, kept there as a stud sire to breed with the hundred plus nanny goats, those owned by the many families in the village.
I stood out as one exception large male goat, looking as hearty as a buck goat could! This big goat was a virtual and virile reminder to any who came to the village of Ojo, a poignantly noted by the Madame as a proper fate for those who have little in integrity.
My daily life was much more than just a continual and ongoing bestial orgy. Benji and his friends often would chase and corner me. They wanted to see me act as if humiliated by having become a goat.
I would coax them some, looking down and along the length of extra sensual body, snorting of my expected pent and furious indignation at being a male goat; they would fall upon me doing and touching what to me felt great!
On the dark of one night, Madame Ojo came and had me fetched along to be the center attraction in a witches Sabbath and orgy. Once I stood there before my excited peers, they each took me, I rutting them, or they sucking on me, but all around the circle I went doing my duty.
Some enjoyed me, as did the three nanny goats, letting me mount their rumps, with thrusts and humping as if they too were but beasts!
One very wild and even sensuous witch women beckoned me to stand uprightly. Delighted, she would moan and want me to thrust, as then pushing, and pressing my oily, red, and hot shaft into a lusty vagina.
She kissed me as if I were still a man and human. Her wanton act of passion brought to meeting to a close. I give them my all, working and probing into them deeply, making them groan with wild bestial pleasure.
Whether rutting nanny goats, witches, or the few foolish women who would dare come uninvited to the village of Ojo, all of them ultimately enjoyed the feelings and pleasures from this new me.
Madame Ojo changed her attitude about me, seeing how I tended faithfully to my daily duties.
I stand now proudly, a definitive male animal, as something to be reckoned with, whether any be female, or some bold and brash man.
Others came, as did I, they making offers for the passage of a pipeline threw the lands owner by the village of Ojo. Some joined me as fodder for the delight of Madame and her powers.
I can see your anguish as your mind hears my story, this joining of minds, one as a beast, and another soon to become an animal.
Yours is a different path to walk than is mine, see your cloven trotters, these are belonging to a pig, hog, or swine.
Given time to adjust, you too shall understand what it is to lose our humanity, feeling as we true animals; knowing the lagging, nagging, pangs for finding any pleasure from life; you shall realize the loss of rational understanding, and when one reaches their climax or orgasm, the thrill of conquest and honor just fades away.
...
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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