Against my better judgement, since some of you really like my writing, I’ll post a new story. One that I posted in FA last week or so.
“Can I help you?”
Phil looked up at the Bull that stood in front of him. Thickly hewed muscles covered the creature, then a deep brown hide suctioned onto them, sprayed with a rather thick covering of hair and sweat. He wore nothing, showing his exceptional endowments. His muzzle was pierced with a fine gold chain that connected to his right ear. Deeply liquid green eyes gazed with scornful interest at him.
“I said, can I help you?” he repeated, his utterly deep bass tinged with a hint of impatience.
“Uhm, yes sir,” Phil said, after clearing his throat. “I, uhm, I would like to join.”
A small suggestion of a smirk flittered across the Bull’s full lips, his eyes flashing olive for a moment. “I would have to see if there is any room here.” He motioned towards the seats placed on the side of the wall. “Sit and wait. I’ll be right back.”
He went through a side door as Phil sat down.
Dens the Bulls called them. Temples devoted purely to sexual release and enjoyment. One could stay as much as he wanted to, lost in the extreme sensual stresses that only Bulls can withstand.
Phil sighed. So much has changed since the invasion, he mused. So much.
After the Bulls landed, there was a brief war against them, to which the governments of the world failed magnificently. Soon there was treaties and flowery exchanges of apologies. Technologies undreamed by the human race became common place miracles, already building upon the wonders of the Earth. Thanks in part to those technologies, disease and poverty were slowly becoming a thing of the past. War itself was starting to be a fool’s game rather than a means of points.
In exchange, the Bulls were found to be exceptionally peace loving artistic folk. Sure, some of their customs shocked some, but other than that, they loved the human race very much, and it was a sure sign that the term ‘melting pot’ was quickly becoming a planetary description.
His train of thought got derailed by a caramel-colored Bull that just came out of another area of the building. Black tousled hair barely hid the horns that erupted from his head. His body stank of sex, and his organ was erect and drooling. He noticed Phil and walked over.
“Phil!” he exclaimed, extending a meaty hand in his direction. “Here’s a surprise. Wasn’t expecting you of all people to be here. How are you?”
“Doing fine, Everest, doing fine,” Phil answered while shaking his hand, noticing that it was slightly sticky. “How’s your mate?”
One of the things that has changed, Phil thought. Man to man marriages became the norm after they came in. They mated for life, so said their customs, unless otherwise compromised. The religious pounced on that like a cat on a feather, but they really couldn’t do anything without angering the Bulls. And you didn’t want them to get angry.
“Max? Oh he’s fine.” He thumbed towards the door that he left out of. “Currently getting plugged in three different directions and enjoying every moment.” His lustfully glazed face sharpened into one of curiosity as he focused on Phil. “And why are you here?”
Phil grinned. “I would like to join you guys, if possible.”
“Oh, you do? Want to be a temp?”
“Yah. I want to know how it feels.”
Everest looked surprised. “Just be warned though,” he cautioned, “you might not get enough. You probably will get addicted and become one of us.”
“And if he does?” the chocolate Bull asked, entering the lobby. “What can he do about it?”
“Brother!” Everest came up to the other, and they embraced in a massive bearhug, speaking in the musical tones of their native tongue. A few moments later they separated. The Bull looked at Phil with suspicious eyes and rumbled out a question. Everest nodded, answering. The Bull grinned, then hugged him one last time before going up to Phil. “There’s room. Follow me.”
“Let me know when you’re out on the floor,” Everest said to them before the door closed after them.
“If I may ask a question, sir?” Phil asked as they crossed through the hallway.
A brief pause. “Ask.”
“Is he really your brother?”
The Bull chuckled. “No he is not. And to forestall your next question, we Bulls treat each other as brothers, children to the Great Father.” He made a gesture with his left hand.
A moment later they were at another door. Before the Bull opened it, he faced Phil.
“Know this, human. This might lead you on to a life with us, with our kind. If ever you want to change your mind, tell me now, and I will escort you to the exit.”
Phil looked straight into the Bull’s emerald eyes. “I did have doubts, when I came here, but now I do not. If this develops to being with your kind, I will accept.”
They gravely shook hands and went through the door.
The walls and floor of the room was covered in multicolored wiring, some of them glowing, some sparkling. In the middle was a chamber, all sleek metal and electric glass, divided by a slab of green and black marble. And in one of the chamber halves was a great blob of grey ooze.
“Our genetic blank,” the Bull said noticing Phil’s expression. “We use it to make temporary bodies for those who want to join us in rutting.” He walked towards a seat with yellow and blue wires attached to it. “Sit, so we can see what kind of body you prefer.”
Phil sat down, and the Bull fitted a slightly spiky helmet on him. He felt some sort of humming that soaked down to the bones the moment it was put on. “Uhm…”
“If you feel anything,” the Bull rumbled as he stood next to him, “that’s the machine scanning your structure and mind. Most of your kind really doesn’t feel anything, however…”
Phil didn’t hear the rest of it, as the hum suddenly increased in intensity, making his teeth rattle. He tried to grip the armrests, but found that his body didn’t respond to any of the requests he asked it to. Just as he thought that the vibrations was going to turn his brain to jello, it just as suddenly lowered back to the mildly unnoticeable hum.
The Bull took off the helmet and helped Phil up on shaky legs. “It does give you a certain weakness, but it wears off in a moment or two.” He helped him towards the filled chamber, now inhabited by a breathing physical form of muscular perfection.
“Your temporary body, if you approve of it.” He motioned towards a closer inspection. Phil looked it over. Thickly hewed, like any Bull, in parchment-white skin, contrasted sharply by multicolored tribal tattoos that swirled lovingly all over his body. He was shaved bald, the horns curling up slightly. He nodded in approval.
“Keep in mind that this is what you fantasize you would look like if you were one of us. Note that the organs are somewhat bigger than ours, and no fur at all. You call it an idealized version of our kind, which is good. Some of your people do much worse.
“You know what will happen, correct?” Phil shook his head. “This will be a simple mind transfer. You’ll be here,” he pointed to the empty chamber, “and in a minute or two you’ll be there.” He pointed to the body. “It is quite harmless. The body is already equipped with knowledge of our kind and can speak in our tongue.”
Phil looked at the prone figure. “You can do that? Mind transfer?”
The Bull chuckled, then ruffled Phil’s hair. “I keep forgetting how simple your kind is. Yes, we do that, but we’re still perfecting the technology. The inventors thought it would be a good idea for those who are experiencing incurable maladies. However, there are some…” he hunted for the word. “…Bugs, yes, that’s it. Bugs that need exterminating.”
“Like…what?” Phil asked. He looked at the Bull, who was then fiddling with some wiring next to the slab.
“Well, according to the history, the first time this happened, something happened to the machinery, and the human who had it happen couldn’t revert. They had to adopt him. But I don’t think that you won’t regret it if that happens, eh?” And he nodded to Phil’s shorts.
Phil adjusted his hard-on. “Just tell me what to do.”
The Bull showed him how to position himself in the chamber, and strapped him in. He put another spiky metal helmet on Phil’s head, this time giving him a deeper hum. “Alright, that does it. Ready for transfer?”
“Don’t see-” The rest of the sentence was left out because he was knocked out.