Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality
From: an22001@anon.penet.fi
Subject: Island of Beasts (transformation)
Date: Fri, 4 Jun 1993 21:21:43 GMT

			   Island of Beasts

	He wasn't so sure that he should have accepted the modeling
job. From the moment he got off of the boat, the island where the
photo shoot was taking place seemed strange - not uninviting, but
somehow unnerving. The sky was as blue as azure, the wind full of the
salt smell of the ocean, but the thick undergrowth which surrounded
the marginal beach was full of noises. How many large animals could a
Carribean island support?

	Seven men had been picked from various New York agencies. None
of them were well known, and for that reason the shoot was likely to
be for some run of the mill catalog catering to would-be
fashionmongers in the lonely Midwest. They had talked a lot on the
plane, and Jack wasn't sure that he liked any of them. Beautiful and
vain. Hard bodies, empty heads.

	The sun felt warm and friendly as he walked from the tiny
plane (it had made a water landing; there seemed to be only one estate
on the whole island). He unbuttoned his shirt and let it caress him
like gentle hand. The wind blew his hair across his sunglasses.

	A short man with dark skin and nasty teeth emerged from the
woods and signaled the pilot to get back in the plane and take off.
The pilot obeyed without saying a word. The seven men picked up their
baggage and followed the little guide as he led them on a tiny path
through the trees.

	They were on top of the estate that Jack had seen from the sky
in just a minute. Twelve foot walls separated it from the surrounding
forest. They could smell food cooking inside.

	The guide led them into the courtyard, which was sunny and
huge. Two skinny dogs lapped water from the fountain in the middle.
The few trees that gave shade to the house in the center were full of
bright parrots. The sounds they made were almost human, and almost
sad. Jack looked at them with amusement. They looked back.

	The guide disappeared and a tall man in a white straw hat
emerged from the house. He greeted them and told them that no work
would be done until the following day, when the photography crew
arrived. In the meantime they were to make themselves comfortable, but
they weren't to leave the compound. Jack was too tired to ask why.

	They were shown to their private bedrooms and encouraged to
take naps. "We want you all to look your best tomorrow," the man
said. From what Jack could see, it would be hard for this handsome
group to look any better. Each room had been provided with a cold
pitcher of rum punch with the instruction to drink up; the punch was
an island specialty. Jack decided to nap first.

	It was already growing dark by the time he woke up. The
evening air was full of those strange noises, bird calls that almost
seemed like screams. His mouth was dry, so he poured himself some
punch. It was still cold. He pored another glass, sweet and tasty.

	He was about to start on a third drink when someone knocked
loudly on his door. He opened it. in the dim light of the hallway he
could make out the silhouette of Chad Stonebrook, a blond-haired tower
of muscle who was supposedly being considered for the Calvin Klein
campaign. Chad looked sick. "You don't look too well, buddy," Jack
said, letting him in. "Come have a drink." Chad stumbled through the
doorway, then fell to the floor. In the light of the room Jack could
see that his companion was horribly changed. His feet and hands were
gone, replaced by huge and powerful hooves, stallion's hooves. The
hairless barrel of his chest was covered in fine black fur. His eyes
were huge and dark and full of fear. The little triangle ears that
protruded from his long blond hair were twitching. Chad tried to
speak, but his teeth and gums were so huge in his mouth that he
couldn't form the words.

	A tremendous ripping sound resounded. Chad was growing. He
tore right through his jeans and his t-shirt, weight and muscle
increasing throughout his body like an erection. Jack had to look:
yes, even Chad's organ was huge and hairy and in a high state of
excitement. It must have been two feet long... Chad was pawing the
ground in pain or ecstasy.

	Through the door stepped the guide and the man in the straw
hat. "I see that you finally drank your punch, Jack," he said coolly,
not even looking at Chad. "Good."

	Jack began to choke. Suddenly every cell in his body began to
flare with sensation. He felt himself start to expand, harden, grow
fine hair everywhere. His jeans were way too tight. His ass was
ripping them open. He felt the long hair of a horse's tail there. He
could move it if he tried.

	"What have you done to me?" he asked, his voice starting to
disappear as his lips grew larger and his jaw elongated.

	The man in the straw hat smiled. "There are no animals on this
island. I use a biotransformative drug to populate it with the finest
specimens. Each of you has been transformed into something different.
Louis - you remember him, the one with the gorgeous cascades of dark
hair - Lois has become a very friendly cocker spaniel. Your friend
Chad is in the process of becoming a very fine stallion." He reached
over and stroked Jack's mane. "And you, my friend, are going to
provide him with a strong breeding mare."