The Magic of Transformation
Volume I
Becoming a Myth
I didn't know the day was to be any different when I set out on my hike. I loved hiking. I still do, but it's hiking of a different kind now. I shouldered my pack, which was probably altogether far, far too much for a day trip, but you know what it's like to want to be prepared, and set off into the mountains, the rocky trail disappearing beneath my boots as minutes ticked into hours.
I knew the trail and setting off alone with the sun shining and a clear, blue sky streaming above me. There was barely a cloud in the sky and my spirits were light as I strode along my way, a familiar route that was one of my favourites for a weekend jaunt.
That is why I will never know how I ended up at the spring.
My feet must have led me wrong, but, somehow, the trail changed beneath my feet, rock disappearing as I dipped down into a valley, the path lined with pine trees with swaying branches. The wind had picked u too, but I did not cotton on to it as an ill omen, although there was nothing but good that came from that fateful day.
I paused and inhaled deeply, the aroma of moist, rich moss filling my lungs. There was something different about that valley, something very strange, something surreal. I don't know how I knew, but I did. I don't think I would have turned back if I had known the truth of the matter. My pace might even have quickened.
Pushing aside branches, I forced my way through, curiosity getting the better of me as the undergrowth thickened. Once I'd begun, there seemed to be no sense in turning back and I was at least a little interested in seeing just where this trail led. It was probably my undoing, but I could not see that as I stepped up to a small pool, which seemed to be fed by a natural, burbling spring.
And there, there was peace. All was quiet, bar the tinkle of birdsong and the sound of the water. My breath seemed too loud in the serenity of the moment and I had to push down the urge to hold my breath, an act that would have done me no good but to tighten the band that was already around my chest. It would have only allowed me to not interrupt the simple beauty of the hidden spot, but sometimes things like that had to come behind a man's comfort.
Without thinking, I dropped to one knee and scooped up a handful of water in my cupped hands, bringing it slowly to my lips to drink.
The moment the water touched my lips, everything changed.
It was not painful by any means, but it was sudden. My skin prickled as if raked over by a thousand fingernails and I reeled back from the edge of the spring with a gasp as a coat of silvery hair burst to life where there had only been the usual light covering of arm hair before. I held out my arms before me, mouth agape, and tried to brush it away, but it spread further and further, slinking up beneath my sleeves as nothing I did stopped its inevitable encroach.
Dampness seeped into my trousers as they grew tighter and tighter. I remember thinking how very strange that was as they were loose and comfortable and perfectly suited to hiking, but all that went out the window when they split across the backside. My buttocks swelled as my spine pushed out, forcing me onto all fours as my fingers pressed together, turning dark and grey where the silvery coat of hair ended.
What was happening? Oh, such an useless question, but it was one that went through my mind on an endless loop as my back end shot up before my front, bones grinding achingly against one another as my body was forced into a new shape entirely. I could not, dared not, look at myself as bone pushed against skin, not that I could have discerned the shapes as clearly with the hair thickening all over my body. Beyond my control, it twisted and bucked, muscle yanked into new position as it pulsed and drove me on.
My arms became legs, horrifyingly so, but there was the knee and I gasped as my head pressed in, nose and lips shooting forward as if made from putty. I tried to talk, to say something, to scream, but nothing came out but a pathetic gargle. It wouldn't last long, that lack of sound, but it was terrifying in the moment as my ears itched, migrating irritatingly to the top of my head. As my neck lengthened, longer hair spilled down the side of it, falling into place so naturally that it was as if it had always been there.
My transformation was so close and yet so far, my chest heaving as I settled myself onto new, hard hooves, belly swinging and pulling up to the join of what I would later learn was my stifle. Parts like that, words for anatomy, didn't come easily to me, but that didn't matter. Nothing like that mattered as my body shifted, slowly becoming an animal that I had admired from afar in green fields and arenas, but never had the good fortune to meet.
But that was not all. I snorted and heaved a breath, eyes undoubtedly wild as I scrabbled about on four hooves, a wither bump at the base of my neck and forelock falling heavily into my eyes, a darker silver than my coat. My spine tingled at the base as a tail shot out too – that I felt, falling down over my hocks and fetlocks, a shimmering waterfall of hair that would have been simply glorious to run my hands through if I had been human. My private parts were, embarrassingly, not spared the change either and I shuddered bodily as my maleness pulled back into my body, something warm and fleshy wrapping around it as my body settled itself, entirely intact and virile still.
Churning up the soft ground at the edge of the spring, I spun and tried to rear, but struggled as my ribcage expanded, become the strong barrel that would protect my innards from harm. The change was not complete, although it must have looked so, my reflection shimmering and leaping in the water before me. I panted, snorting through twin nostrils that flared with each ragged breath, and my back ached just behind those rounded withers. I could not have anticipated what was to emerge and yet part of me still thinks I could have done so.
It seems so simple in hindsight.
Slowly, a pair of wings emerged from the front part of my back, bone swiftly coating itself with muscle and sinew and skin, the feathers following in a brilliant, gleaming arc of white. I could not help but spread them wide, testing their reach even as they grew as new muscles became apparent to me, all within the realm of my control.
And it was done. The sense of change left me as suddenly as it had appeared and I stood gasping, ears back, in a mess of mud and torn up moss as if I had been there all along. My clothes – I hadn't even realised they'd been shredded from me as I changed, but they and my backpack were the only remnants attesting to a life as anything other than what I have since become.
But one cannot mourn a life that was never truly their own, sliding out of their reign and command on a daily basis. It's much better to be under my own rule and do what I want when I wish to. And it's not as if there are any predators that can take down a full-grown stallion on the wing.
As a pegasus, the skies were at my command.
And so, I spread my wings and took flight.
The Red Wolf
It was a perfectly normal day and yet, after this day, nothing would ever be the same ever again. I did not know that a trip to a little shop in town, a new nook in the wall that could promise but a few minutes, at least, of entertainment, could change the course of my fate forever.
How lucky I was that everything shifted beneath my feet.
But perhaps I should back up a little. You're not interested in the abstract: just the nitty-gritty of how I shed skin for fur.
It shouldn't have happened: I know this for sure. I had not planned to wander into the curiosity shop – at least, that's what I think it was in hindsight. I suppose I'll never be quite sure about all that. Neither does it matter anymore. The scent of incense hung heavy in the air – sandalwood, if I remember correctly. Everything gleamed with rhinestones, falsity in the forefront while the true darkness of the establishment lingered in the shadows, simply waiting on an opportunity to pounce.
A tiny vase, nondescript and certainly nothing that most would have picked up. It wasn't even large enough to put a single flower into and yet I still collected it into the palm of my hand, rolling the smooth greyness of it back and forth until a spark shot through my hand. It was something like touching a live electrical socket but without the arc of pain that would come with such a foolish action in that regard, but it was more than enough to send me reeling back, eyes fixed wide and unblinking, mouth open in a silent gape.
And that was enough to change the course of my life forevermore. I could not release the vase, my fingers snapping in around it as if I was clutching a firstborn to me, the hairs on the backs of my hands standing up as if I truly had been shocked, yet it was something far, far more potent than that. As the saying went – you were crazy if you had hair on the backs of your hands and all that – it was the hair there that changed first, spreading thick and lush over every inch of my body. It was so quick too, covering me completely in the blink of an eye, a low grunt bursting from my lips, although it really didn't sound like any sort of noise that I should have been making at all.
My clothes fell away, although I surely would not be needing them anymore, grunting deep in the back of my throat as I dropped to the floor like a dead weight. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, any movements my body made entirely beyond my control as I twisted and growled, eyes wild and burning with the urge to blink – and yet I could not. My body was not mine to command and my bones cracked and ground sickeningly against each other as I was forced into a shape that no human should have ever been able to make.
Yet I was not a human anymore. I would only later see that and revel in the delight of it. Claws burst from the tips of my fingers in the place of nails, that useless make up of my being fading away, and I groaned, my back arching without conscious will as I became smaller and smaller, though my head would have still sat above hip height while on all fours.
Oh, if I could have only understood what I was becoming right then and there – perhaps I would not have been so scared. But there's so much involved in becoming a wolf as my tail sprouted and tingled, coating itself with red-brown fur, that it would have been hard to keep up even if I'd been entirely within the range of my senses.
My ears were not spared as my faced pulled and bulged, stretching out into a muzzle and a damp, moist nose that was better placed to sift through each and every scent I may come across. Teeth sharpened into canines, lining a muzzle and jaw designed to clamp down, to rip and tear and bite! I gnashed them, a long, pink tongue flapping out over the edge of my lips. I was a predator and I was unstoppable!
There was no restraining a wolf and my body came gently back under my control as if the ability to move had never truly left me. But it felt easier to get up onto four paws as my feet tucked in and fingers became much stubbier toes – not that the loss of being able to grip anything was all that much of a loss truly. It was something that I'd quickly forget about in the ability to stretch out my back and run as I was truly meant to run, tail streaming behind me like a flag to denounce my progress.
The shop keeper sighed and leaned over the desk at me, peering down as he shook his head. I was not yet fully a wolf, whining and bouncing up onto my hind legs in memory of the bipedal form I had once held, eyes shifting to a predatory position. They would, after all, serve me well in the future when it came to the hunt and, oh, it would be no more junk food and takeout for me after I first felt the rush of hot, metallic blood between my jaws.
I had always been meant to be more than what I was. And that showed in the gleam of saliva on my dark lips, fur fluffing out as it coated me completely from head to toe and in just how even my human maleness changed, slinking back into a furred sheath that would better protect me in both modesty and vulnerability.
“There's another one gone," the shop keeper sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “When will you darn kids learn to stop fussing with things you know nothing about?"
It was not my fault – hardly! – but I could not feel bad about the situation at all, the life behind me shucked from my furry shoulders like a shroud that had only been clouding my vision. I leapt and bounded, barking and darting back and forth as the shop owner sighed again and opened the back
“Out! Out, with you! I'm not having vermin in my shop! Out, out, out!"
Yet my life as a red wolf had only just begun.
From Man to Ewe
“Don't worry, Jamie."
He rolled his head, straw sticking to his shaved scalp and blue eyes blinking dully. The man's speech slurred, vision leaping and wavering as the inside of the lambing shed came into view, a pile of deep, thick straw cushioning him from the concrete beneath. Reeking of dung and straw and the all-reaching aroma of sheep that crept into every last corner of the shed, it was barely possible to take a full breath when the lambing shed was in dire need of a complete, brutal clear out.
That had been his job of the day. The job that he hadn't complete. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words came out. The farmer's wife hadn't liked that. She'd shouted at him, swearing and cursing like the worst of the farm hands. She hadn't liked that he'd loafed off one bit.
And now he was going to pay for it.
The farmer's wife clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, peering over the gate at him as the ewes outside baaed mournfully, eager to shed the weight from their heavy, swinging bellies. There was little light, afternoon having merged into dusk as the day wore on, him out for the count while she did what she willed with him.
He screwed up his mouth, drool trickling viscously down his chin, foamy slather like that of an animal being led down to slaughter. But he was not being slaughtered. None were being slaughtered in that season, not lambing season.
“Wh…" He tried. “Where…"
But the words would not come. Words would never come to him ever again.
“Don't you worry your pretty little head about nothing no more," she crooned to him, scraping her hair back into a scruffy ponytail. “We'll see you right, don't you worry about that. It'll be a better job for you, this will. You'll finally have a use, Jamie. Won't that be nice?"
He didn't know what the meant, but he didn't have a chance to consider it as his body shifted without his consent, thick and clunky like a foggy brain the day after a night of heavy drinking. Jamie didn't realise that he was naked, but it was a fact that would soon cease to matter as he scrambled up onto his hands and knees with all the grace of a toddler finding their legs something ungainly and unwholesome. It was like having to learn how to move all over again.
And he'd have a new body to learn very soon.
The changes happened quickly, beginning as if the farmer's wife had snapped her fingers and called them forth like bringing her ewes into the farm. Bones cracked and trembled without any sense of pain, pushing themselves into new alignment beneath his skin as his body seemed to crumple down into itself, skin bulging obscenely as bones shoved themselves grotesquely into the shockingly flimsy barrier. It held, however, and no blood spurted forth even as Jamie flopped about like a rag down, head thrown from side to side.
What was happening? He dug his fingers into the straw, but they would no longer grip as his spine took on a new shape, the control of his body forever beyond his true command from that point forward. Dimly, he was aware of the farmer's wife laughing softly and her tone soothed him even as his legs shortened, belly bulging as it swooned to hang between his chest and his crotch in a smooth arc. But something about it felt right too and Jamie shivered, the base of his spine tickling as what could only be a tail, as yet uncovered, pushed from above the crease of his buttocks.
Mouth agape in a silent, gasping scream, Jamie's head lolled helplessly from shoulder to shoulder as his skin prickled with the beginnings of a coat. He shuddered, though not from realisation of anything as his eyes had already dulled to the mere intelligence of a beast. Wool. He had a coat of wool tingling to life where it had to right to be.
But it was warm – oh, it was! Trembling, he tried to lean into it, swaying on his, as yet, unformed, cloven hooves, and splayed his legs, lower jaw hanging as he let the one in charge take control of his life once and for all. His hooves formed, soft at first and then growing harder, enough to bear his weight as he gambolled around the fields, and he bleated anxiously, the sound taking greater strength as his vocal chords gave him a new set of noises to make. Animal noises. Sheep noises. But he was not just any sheep.
His coat of wool was almost complete by the time the udders began appearing and his maleness sucked smoothly back into his body as the large, full udders swayed, teats peaking and bobbing as if they were begging for a lamb to suckle. Of course, to fully complete his transformation into a true ewe, another part had to form and that was tucked up beneath his tail, ready for the prize ram when he was due to be covered again.
But no, that was not right. Jamie panted and bleated, sides heaving and head whipping from side to side as his mind settled into his new body, thick and cloying. Food. Water. Company. The flock. No longer was he a he and now would remain a she until the very end of her days.
Little tail twitching, she stepped forward uncertainly, finding her hooves and testing out just how her new body worked. But instinct would take over when she needed it the most and the ewe staggered only once as she explored the confines of the little pen made up in the corner of the lambing shed.
All the while, she was being watched. The farmer's wife tugged at the shoulder strap of her denim overalls and smiled, though there was something sinister in her perfectly white and perfectly even teeth.
“Good girl," the farmer's wife murmured softly, reaching over the gate to stroke and pet the new ewe's head. “Aren't you a good one? Going to bear me many fine lambs, you are, yes you are, my darling girl!"
And, nothing more than a dull animal, she bobbed her muzzle and lipped thoughtlessly at the straw, searching for pellets in lieu of grass. For she didn't know what it was to bear a lamb, but she soon would. She would learn how it felt to have a ram on her back, taking her crudely, and she would know how it felt to have a lamb, born of her own body, suckling at her teats, the soft, fleshy udders showing their true use in the natural cycle of farm life.
Yes, she would know. The ewe bleated and looked for her friends. Soon, she would know.
The farmer's wife would make sure of that.
The Petting Zoo Donkey
“Where are we going?"
Jimmy smiled good-naturedly as his girlfriend towed him down the mown path across the field, a smile on her lips and mischief in her blue, blue eyes. She clutched his hand tightly in hers, nails perfectly manicured and lips shimmering a juicy pink that had to have come from a new tube of gloss. Cindy was always buying new makeup, a young woman constantly taken in by the next new shade. He didn't know how she could have so many of them littering her flat, but had little say in that matter.
“Oh… You'll see!" She giggled, dragging him towards what looked like a shed, set back against the hedge on the edge of the field. “It's close – come on! Hurry up!"
Sometimes, he couldn't help but think of her as a child in her innocence and, obligingly, Jimmy picked up his pace until they were nearly jogging to the ramshackle little shed. She always did have one fancy going on or the other, but that was his Cindy for you.
Little did he know that was all about to change.
She hauled him into the shed, demonstrating surprising strength for her size as she kicked the door neatly closed behind him, dust showering him as it bumped into the frame. Jimmy coughed and blinked rapidly as the interior of the shed slowly came into view as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.
And there was nothing there. Turning his head slowly from side to side like a lumbering, heavy animal, he tried to stare deep into the corners, thinking himself quite the fool for not spotting whatever was evidently her surprise right off the bat. Surely there had to be something there? But, no, there was nothing bar the pile of rat droppings in the far corner, sunlight streaming in through the cracks between the broken boards to streak the solemn, simply dirt floor in golden rays.
Squeezing his girlfriend's hand, Jimmy called her attention back to him, but, to his mild surprise, she took her hand from his and claimed it with her own, eyes dancing.
“Are you going to tell me what this is all about then?" He smiled charmingly at her, holding up his hands. “Trust me, I'm all ears."
She laughed and swung her clasped hands before her like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Cindy tipped in to him, lips parted, and he automatically closed the distance between them, arms encircling her familiar, sweetly petite frame.
“Just one kiss, sweetheart, to remember me by…"
Her lips pressed to his, a cherry flavoured kiss that he leaned into even through his confusion. But when her lips broke from his, Jimmy stiffened, a ripple going through him from head to toe that was neither a shiver or a shudder of pain, but something else entirely. He'd have to get used to that sensation pretty swiftly if he was to survive.
Legs crumpling, they no longer bore his weight and Jimmy cried out fearfully as he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes, kicking and writhing as bone and muscle took charge for him. His mind screamed and he beat at the jerking of his legs,
“Cindy! Cindy, call an ambulance! Cindy, I don't know what's happening – help me!"
Cliché and overdone. His words fell on deaf ears and she bounced on the balls of her feet, hair swinging gaily over her shoulders.
“Quiet, little lad, you're going to love this!"
He choked and hacked and coughed, chest heaving for breath that would never again slip into the same pair of lungs as he'd always had. He rolled onto his back, gaping and moaning in sheer horror as his legs twisted, bones realigning themselves until his arms become but another pair of legs, toes sucking in as his skin darkened and darkened and darkened. Jimmy squealed and kicked out as his spine pushed into a new shape, one that he'd only ever seen on a beast of burden. Only, he couldn't' see himself as in a mirror, only feel the grotesque changes as his face bulged out and out and out, skin rippling like clay into its new form. Perhaps, at least to his cheering, whooping girlfriend, who was doing her best impression of a cheerleading routine on the side-lines, it was the form he'd always been meant to have.
He would have begged to differ, if he'd had any say whatsoever in the matter. As it was, Jimmy was forced to watch as his feet became hooves, melding into something hard and unyielding that should never have been placed on a human body. He itched and squirmed, fighting to relieve it, but the discomfort of having his bones cracked into a new body eased as his neck finished elongating, jaw shockingly far out from his barrel chest. The itch was swiftly revealed to be fur spreading over his entire body, a dark grey coat only struck through with a black cross over his shoulders and down the length of his back. Only some would, much later, understand the significance of that.
Fighting himself, Jimmy blinked and wheezed, breath rasping down a much longer oesophagus as he rolled and staggered, somehow, to his hooves. He reeled from his new stature, head set lower than it shoulder have been and standing, quite comfortably on all fours as a furry tail shot from the base of his spine, thin and ropey, and swung back and forth as if it had always been there.
The donkey grunted and swung his head heavily from side to side, dust settling as the changes cemented themselves in his mind, though his humanity was still there, if locked behind a façade that was purely animal. He squealed and stomped, kicking up his heels in anguish, but all anyone would see, if they had been there to observe him, was a grumpy old jack showing his displeasure at something more suited to animalistic wants and needs.
Giggling like a schoolgirl, Cindy squealed and clapped her hands together as the new jack brayed and flicked his tail, her pigtails bouncing.
“What a wonderful addition you will make to my petting zoo!"
End preview of The Magic of Transformation (volume I).
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