Brandon Twice
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Terry Heads Back to the Farm
🕑 Added 2019-11-14 20:00:00 +0000 UTCFeist never got visitors, so the pounding on the door came as a shock. He was even more startled when he opened the door to see the massive man filling the frame. It took him a moment to recognize Terry; the big guy had changed so much since the last time they had met.
Terry forced his way in, clenching his fists. He kept opening his mouth to speak but then following silent. Overwhelming the sudden joy at seeing this man at Feist’s door was panic over what could have him so agitated.
“Terry!” Feist said. He approached the strongman, hoping to calm him, but Terry spun on him quickly as he got close. Feist held up his hands as a sign that he meant no harm. Terry was a massive man by anyone’s standards; Feist was at the other end of the spectrum, small and thin. One swipe from one of Terry’s powerful arms could easily break Feist into pieces. The smaller man searched Terry’s face for an answer.
“You didn’t tell me this would happen,” Terry said. He gestured to himself, although Feist couldn’t see what Terry was talking about. He did note that Terry wore a heavy long-sleeve shirt, boots and a winter cap pulled over his head despite the heat outside. The interior of Feist’s rustic home was fairly warm. Terry wiped sweat from his brow with his sleeve but refused to take off any of his excessive layers.
“Terry,” Feist said calmly. “You’re obviously upset and I want to help… Should I put on tea? And you can tell me what is going on when you calm down?”
Terry stared at the floor, then walked to a rocking chair near the window and had a seat. “Fine,” Terry said, “but be quick about it.”
Feist lit the stove and set an old kettle on top, fixing two cups while glancing intermittently at the giant in his sitting room. He had a suspicion he knew what was troubling Terry--the same thing he’d worried about since their last meeting--but he prayed it was something different.
Terry’s gloved hand shook as he took the cup of tea. Feist reached out to steady the big man’s hand but Terry flinched. The tiny motion felt like a gut punch to Feist; was this how his tenderness was received now? He thought back to the gentle voice Terry had spoken with the last time he had visited. Of course, then he had come with a motive.
I want you to make me stronger, Terry had said. Give me more power than before. I know you can do it. He’d punctuated the request by holding Feist in his strong arms, gently rubbing his back. And of course Feist had dissolved under the attention and given in to his big love.
“Now, I told you,” Feist said, choosing his tone and his words carefully, “that what we did before would have a cost. You said you didn’t care what it cost, remember?”
Terry slammed the teacup on the nearby end table. Tea sloshed around it but the cup didn’t break. “You never told me it would be like this!”
“Like what?” Feist asked, studying the uncomfortably sweaty giant’s face. “Tell me what’s going on, Terry. I can’t help until you let me know.”
Terry paused, staring at his lap for a moment, before he reached up and yanked off his cap, squeezing his eyes shut when it was off. Sticking out of either side of Terry’s blocky head were two grey horns, about two inches long each.
“Oh, my,” Feist said. He reached out to touch the horn but Terry jerked away. “Is that it?” Feist asked. “Just the horns?”
Terry shook his head. Shamefully he peeled off his boots to reveal hooves where human feet should have been. Thick grey hair grew up Terry’s legs. Feist was curious how far up it went. They were clearly goat hooves. Terry looked much like a satyr.
“It’s not stopping,” Terry said. “At first it was just the horns, then the fucking hooves… and the hair… it’s fur, for chrissakes! And it’s spreading up my legs, all over my chest and belly and my…” Terry sank lower in his chair. “...my cock. This morning my cock looked… different.”
“So you came to see me,” Feist finished Terry’s story for him. “No worries,” he said, gently stroking Terry’s face. This time the big man allowed the contact. “I can reverse this.”
“You’d better!” Terry shouted. “I’d better not…” His face turned inisde out with disgust. “...better not have a goat cock before this is over!”
Perhaps, Feist thought, the spell they had used to change Terry from the big, beefy strongman into the chiseled, vascular bodybuilder was beginning to degrade. Maybe the incantation that was supposed to boost his power and virility was breaking down; he was quite literally losing his manhood, after all. Feist traced some sigils in the air and began chanting. He thought of the original spell and imbued it with his own power. It would leave him exhausted for a week or so, but it was worth it if Terry became fully human again.
“What are you…” Terry’s eyes went wide, then he leapt from the chair, knocking Feist to the floor. “You did… what did you… b-baaa!” Terry’s eyes went wide at the goat bray that had escaped his throat. “Feist, you made it worse, you b-b-b-b-baa!”
Before Feist’s eyes he could see the fur starting to grow up the back of Terry’s neck. Without realizing it, the big man started to slowly chew. Feist could see his tongue becoming spotty and black. He wobbled, then threw his hands down to his hips. The gloves slid off and Terry stared at goat hooves instead of the powerful hands that had carried massive weight in the past.
“Feist, help me--baaaaa!” Terry wobbled unsteadily. Clearly, with the changes rapidly spreading, he was starting to shift into a four-legged animal. His hips would rotate and soon he would be on all fours. Terry could feel it happening. He balanced himself with one hoof-hand against the wall, the other on the end table to stay upright as long as possible.
“I’m sorry!” Feist cried. “I’m sorry! I’ll fix it!” He hurried into his kitchen. From a drawer he pulled a small iron key. He used it to unlock a tiny cupboard next to the basement stairs. Inside the little crawlspace was a black stone cauldron. Feist dragged it out as he heard Terry braying wildly in the next room.
“Just calm down!” Feist said as he started to add ingredients to his cauldron. “Don’t get excited! I’ll have you back to normal soon. I promise!”
I warned him, Feist thought as he added dried chicken feet and some belladonna to the mixture. I told him that when we alter nature, sometimes nature demands a price. He said he didn’t care what the price was! Clearly he hadn’t thought of this!
With a small amount of orchid nectar and pulverized pearl, the concoction was almost complete. There was just one ingredient. To restore his manhood, the spell would require the essence of manhood; specifically, that of Feist himself. He closed his eyes and slowly stroked himself. He imagined Terry after he had transformed him; huge, muscular, his body large but sinewy. He was like a titan carved of granite.
Then his mind went back to Terry when he was bigger. His body was so large, soft but incredibly powerful. Every footfall sounded off Terry’s presence to the world. There was so much of him, such a warm body to cuddle up to that would protect him forever. Feist thought back to their college days, when Terry’s rugby career was starting to take off, back when he still came to see Feist some weekends when his body was aching for release that only Feist could provide. Feist thought of the way the bed tilted when his enormous lover climbed into bed with him; the way Terry felt so massive next to him, so full of warmth and comfort but hard and strong underneath. It wasn’t long until Feist supplied the cauldron with the final ingredient. Feist moaned, put his hand on the wall, and bathed for one moment in the glow of his ecstasy.
Then he heard something smash in the next room, smashing him back to the problem at hand. He heard hooves clopping wildly around and frantic braying. He quickly stirred the mixture together, chanting to summon the necessary forces to make the solution potent, and then ladled it into a tin mug from his cabinet.
When he returned to his sitting room he saw all of his furniture had been smashed. Terry had shaken out of all of his clothes, some of it tearing as he wrestled free. Terry was now a full goat except for his face. He was about half the size he was before and a full quadruped. The last changes were starting to overtake him as his face pushed out into a muzzle and started to grow thick grey fur along it.
“Drink this, Terry!” Feist worried that Terry’s brain was more goat than man now, but Terry seemed to understand. He crouched on the floor, braying sadly, and lapped the liquid from the cup hungrily. When it was over his goat-tongue licked his lips wildly. For a moment the changes seemed frozen. Terry brayed, obviously trying to communicate, but unable to form any words.
Then his goatish face slowly melted back into Terry’s handsome visage. His body got longer, bloating up with muscles, as the fur receded. Human legs uncoiled and Terry watched with relief as his hooves unfolded into human fingers. When it was over, Terry was naked on the floor, his beautiful muscular--and most importantly, HUMAN--form was naked on Feist’s floor. The smaller man took a moment to take in the sight before helping Terry collect his things.
“Baaaa!” Terry said as he tried to speak. Panic overtook him again as he realized that, despite being human again, his voice hadn’t returned. “Baaaa!” he brayed sadly.
Feist studied the hunky man’s face. “I think…” he began, truly unsure what to do now, “...that the remedy just needs time to set in. Give it some time. Your voice will be back to normal soon, I’m sure.”
Terry could only bray loudly in response. Feist knew what he was wondering: how would he get a taxi now? How could he get on an airplane? How could he face his wife back home?
“Maybe you could… pretend to have lost your voice?” Feist theorized. “What if we just gave you a notepad… Or you could stay here until you’re normal again.”
Terry considered his options, then gave a loud, pathetic bray and headed for the door. Feist hoped Terry’s human voice would return, but secretly hoped even more it wouldn’t and his big beautiful man would return to him for help soon enough.
