�The Cure for what ails� (Revised
12-09)
�Bob was a good friend, a very
good friend, and a friend in need becomes a friend indeed!�
We grew up in the same town, lived only a block away from the other,
played sports went everywhere; or did until what happened one dark,
moonless night. It happened during that special summer vacation
coming just after we had graduated from high school. It was a time
of feeling elated for what was accomplished, and a time to look at
what further schooling would help us to choose what we would do as
making a living.
Mr. Athletic, what I named Bob, he was into anything to do with
athletics, loved to ride his ten-speed bike. He would leave early in
the morning near to sun up, and ride all day coming home sometime in
the evening. For Bob his joy was in the feeling of physical exertion,
to which his cycling over hill and dale was to him as good fun, he
used this as having time alone to think about his future.
A stormy summer afternoon was the precursor for bearing of bad news.
When the evening newspaper arrived thrown as usual onto the front
porch, when opened and seen, there on the first page was a news
article about a missing person, it was about Bob. According to the
reported accounting of the local Sheriff, his parents had reported
their son as missing, he failing to return home from riding his
ten-speed. A search for Bob began on the forth day after his
reported as missed by his parents and feared injured or worse.
A day of frantic searching of where a person might go if injured and
getting out of the storm and vicious lightning experienced on that
fated day when Bob rode away from his home. The newspaper had a
splashy story to tell, the local sheriff deputies discovered my good
friend Bob, he lying naked in a farm barn, his clothing neatly
folded and set outside the stall of a two-year old pony mare.
Literary crucifixion of the newspaper made it as their assertion of
the facts, using a picture taken of the pony mare in her stall and
matched to a photo of Bob wrapped in a blanket, he standing by a
police car, handcuffed and looking bewildered. From such came the
suggestions in the write up, as after testing of but Bob and the
mare, it was said that he (Bob) had sexually molested the pony.
In the weeks that followed, Bob went through a hellish time.
Sneering friends and indignant people were but part of his
humiliation. He had to endure as did his parents the wrath of people
they thought were friends, everyone wanting to point an accusing
finger at Bob and as well at his loving parents. Worse was the many
news reports that flocked to and stood in vigilance awaiting a
chance to ask that one question few spoke about but reports wanted
to hear as answered, "What Bob did it feel like, you having sex
with a pony mare?"
A shameful question about an incident that went unanswered, as Bob
told the police, his reason for having entered the barn was to get
out of the serious storm raging around him. He made note of the
animals there in the barn too, they all nervous from the loud
thunder and the winds blowing a roaring gale. His accounting of what
happened after that had him unable to give the police a continuous
accounting of what happened and why when found he was naked and
having clinical signs of his having molested the female animal.
�Truth,� a thing that is now days manufactured to draw people to
listen and hear, while what is said is sliced apart by the
advertisements for whatever the sponsor wishes to sell.
Judgment of laws came then quickly and without any mercy for Bob or
his stunned parents. His sentencing too made things worse for him
and rather than he to go through counseling Bob would enter prison.
The sentencing of Bob to serving at the least five years, but not
more than a possible twenty, was to teach him a lesson. However, if
he did not learn to behave in a prudent and proper moralistic social
fashion, his parole date might need some extensions.
The thought of my friend Bob in prison, I had to wonder if those
there could or would want to be of any help to teach anybody
anything of living morally and modest, it seemed unlikely.
Bob often wrote to me letters, he felt a need to tell me, to try to
explain to his good friend just what happened.
We communicated for many months, the post office clerk-taking note
of the letters and to whom such bared the return address of the
state prison. This caused more talk, innuendos flew about town and
it happened one afternoon the Sheriff came visiting. He came to
point an accusing finger at me, and give a warning to our family of
continued conversing with a known sexual predator might bring
charges against us all.
I got angry, and yelled at the rude cop, "Bob is not a sexual
anything; never a more moral person walked the earth than was such a
good friend!"
Soon after that confrontation there came a letter addressed to our
family and from Bob. He wanted to inform us of his deciding to
accept different his transfer from state prison to become a prisoner
volunteer. He was to become a prime part of scientific
experimentation. Soon he would be moved to the Thule Research
Foundation, and it located in Billings, Montana. His work or use by
them there seemed secretive, but it would get him away from the
brutal people in the state prison.
As reported to his parents, Bob received many a bad beating by
inmates and others; they all had a bleak opinion of what was to us
as a nice person.
The prison Physiologist informed Bob of a medical study involving
sex offenders of the zoophobia variety. As told to Bob, the
experiments were of a new nature assured to give a cure of
permanence from ever being considered or accused of that lurid
immoral offense. It was as a reprieve from the extreme sentencing by
the local judge, and as well thought of as a cure for what the state
thought ailed Bob.
He made mention it seemed he had nothing to lose and only a more
professional, peaceful place to serve out his sentence. Bob accepted
the transfer, but after just that one letter, he never wrote to me
again.
As months passed, and a year went by, there beget a thought of
writing a letter to that foundation; as if only to inquire,
wondering about whatever happened to friend Bob.
What came in response to many letters was from a Professor Haun, he,
as according to his credentials suggested he was the managerial
person over all zoophiles offensive prisoners. He wrote of making
great strides in both mental and physical adaptation, and of how
friend Bob received a pardon and transfer to begin serious work as
at the Milwaukee zoo.
Writing then to the zoo, asking about Bob, the zoo personnel
department wrote back of they not having anybody employed there by
that name, not even did they have an employee by the first name of
Bob. In levity, the person writing back made mention the only Bob
they had there at the zoo was a mature stallion Zebra by the name of
Bob.
Waiting and wondering, the thought came of inquiring at the
foundation in Montana about working there, of asking for a job of
any kind.
Oddly, an application for employment and or volunteering arrived,
shown to parents they were not too thrilled about their son moving
far away and residing in Montana.
A quick reply and filling out the necessary information, the listing
of friend Bob as a once employed person there at and by the
foundation seemed a good way to introduce a person wishing to learn
what happened to Bob.
Bob, Bob, Bob, all the time there was many questions as to what all
happened, why did he do something so out of character to his true
beliefs, it all made no sense!
�Greetings,
Your application for employ here at the foundation level is as
denied. However, if still interested, entry-level status work is
available, and by filling out the enclosed application, said such
desired employment at Sunrise Research Farms of Appleton, Wisconsin
has openings.
As made mention in the applications and letter, your friend Bob does
work through the Wisconsin office, he presently is on a long-term
sabbatical study of the mating rites of the African Zebra.
Most Sincerely,
Professor H. E. Haun
Deciding as to where one should begin looking for Bob, the rather
obvious suggestion seemed the better course to follow. Accepting
then to work in some menial manner is about what you might expect,
but upon getting to Sunrise Research, they offered a few surprises.
Upon arrival, the meeting with a Doctor Luscious Dubois and his
several associates, each of which looked at the new recruit, as if
at an animal auction and planning to buy.
After handshakes all around the Doctor left and the technicians took
over, conferring many tests, some mental awareness sessions, and
physical enduring of challenges such as running, jumping, and
standing on tiptoes, arms held front forward, yes closed, and in a
continuous exercise of deep breathing and harsh exhaling of spent
breath.
That day and the next two weeks had much of the same odd testing and
not a word to the recruit as for what this all meant to him.
Finally, the testing ceased and a weekend of free time had a tired
person taking the bus to Milwaukee and the city zoo. Once on the
inside the main fence, the plan was to venture to see the Zebra
confinement.
Standing or seated, watching and waiting until such time seemed
appropriate, then approaching the fence, the calling of the name Bob
made even the caller think he was nuts.
�Bob�Bob�Bob�!�
As if from down and inside, there in the confinement came as an
answer the whimpering sound of a Zebra as if in agony.
Moving toward where the sound seemed to originate, the sad looking
Zebra stallion stood there listening to a name broadcast that he
could recognize; as meanwhile the calling of his body tried to
seduce him into acting like would a stallion stud of a Zebra.
�Bob�?� Said in a questioning tone, as for seeing what seemed as
much to answer to the spoken name, the form did not look to this
person like the person once called as a friend. Standing there stood
a mature but still young and very sleek of form, male Zebra.
The young male had a going arousal of major proportions, he sniffing
the breeze was obviously enjoying the wafting musky scent coming
from of four Zebra mares also standing nearby.
The occasional calling the name Bob aloud caused the Zebra to turn
around, and when facing the fence, it cut loose a braying cry that
caused all walking past to stop and gawk.
�How, how could what stands there being of animal form and acting
like an immoral uncaring stallion, this male Zebra acted as if he
knew the name and wanted to express his feelings.� I thought to
myself, there had to be a truth here!
The clicking of a camera shutter was then the only sound this one
would dare use as a reply. It meant a lot right then, but to the
Zebra, it meant little as after twenty minutes of various callings
and replies, he wandered to the Zebra mares, choosing one of them,
he then began what was a equine ritual, as all signs suggested the
stallion Zebra planned then to mate with his Zebra mare.
The constant watching of how any a Zebra stood there and did
whatever seemed natural, held the attention of a young and still
foolhardy young man, as the security cameras kept on eye for trouble
and recorded who was close to the fence.
Upon the return trip back to Appleton and to the research center
employee housing unit number two; when entering inside the
considered private room, there sat a disgusted Doctor Dubois.
�Had a fun day, anything you would care to talk about?� The Doctor
asked, he looked at his employee as if angered and like a father
disgusted with one of his children.
�Yes, after a phone call to the Milwaukee zoo and speaking there
with a rude woman by her name of Gisela, she made fun of the asking
about Bob, the friend you said was on a long-term sabbatical there
to learn more about Zebra mating rituals.
Even without her help, the calling of his name, yelling into the
confinement, Bob, Bob, and a third time more Bob�! An answer came
from one young but fully mature male stallion Zebra standing near
the fence, butt toward the onlookers, as if a Zebra might feel
somehow embarrassed.
After all, if you remember that kid joke of what is black and white
and red all over, why an embarrassed Zebra, right?
Well then Bob answered, and kept trying his darnedest to communicate
his various feelings, especially those dealing with what all he had
since learned about the mating rituals of Zebras.
Bob was there, he is as one of the Zebra stallions!
Bob can remember his human name, he knew his good friend, feeling
elated at the coming to visit him, he brayed loud and as if tickled.
Yet his male Zebra inclinations won the day and he wandered off to
meet and mate with a Zebra mare having her sensations of desire and
bestial needs.� So said I, and boldly to the manager and main
scientist-curator there at Sunrise Research.
The doctor sat there for a long minute before he keenly stared at
me, and asked then, �If offered would you care to join Bob, Robert
in his long-term sabbatical there, you becoming as a Zebra stallion
too?
Or, if that seems to tame for your liking, we have a very similar
such volunteer duty scheduled, and you might like being a Cape
buffalo bull for some five years or longer!�
�How was such thing possible, the massive and drastic changing of a
human being into the form of an animal, a Zebra or some bull?�
Surprised one did ask, as much as seeing of Bob to be then a Zebra
stallion and liking it, the thought of joining him and be too a
stallion Zebra made for some shaky feelings.
The doctor told me to consider the matter, as and since I had
learned the secret of what about Bob, he assured then that something
similar needed doing to assure the secret became again as a secret.
A pointed index finger detonated on the end table by the side of the
bed set a thick ledger book, it a photo registry of all the previous
transformations as done to the many people of who had learned too
much, too quickly.
�What about Bob, what about Me!�
Was I working for Dr.
Frankenstein, such things as transformation he say and from his
notebook would seemingly show that such miracles in his realm of
scientific knowledge were commonplace.
A quick paging through his notebook reinforced the thought this fool
was working for a lunatic, insane, he would take normal people and
use them for scientific fodder. He would re-mold a human body, doing
more and changing its skin, growing fur, adding tails, doing so much
more and in the end time, that person would leave the foundation
property as an animal in a livestock truck.
If not for the tested experience of finding Bob and speaking, we
communicating, and of doing it with some fantasy dream like
aberration, personally it would be similar to a Hollywood �B� class
horror film.
And then, what about Bob, if he was again found and being where and
what the doctor left him as, what was his future, and how could his
friend help him. It seemed so impossible, but added to it was the
fact of Professor Haun coming personally to inform, show, and tell
of what he can do. He wanting a tight rein on security about his
project, as to silence someone else, he tossed an offer of either
join Bob and his life of living for the moment, or be some brute
male animal and do the same there as might by being a Zebra.
Fantasy foolishness, but suddenly all too real and reality standing
there would expect an answer. To calmly choose of which animalistic
form to become, to defile all and everything one has grown up to
know is right and living a moral life; to throw it all to the winds
of time and let this man change away everything. Would one want to
be then as is Bob, he standing as when first seen, mentally elated
and sexually aroused, doing his pride before all the onlookers
present?
Privacy to a normal human is part of what each is and by being like
is Bob that too is gone from him.
To become an object as such a piece of property, the sensing of such
offered suddenly a taught lesson in school of those through history
who became by whatever means as slaves. Men enslaved other men,
mattering not of colors or race, but this, what Professor Haun
proposes, this takes a scientific leap beyond enslavement. Why with
just paging through the notebook of pictures and written fates of so
many people, their were many terrors told of people changed, living
as working animals, beasts of burden, truly they were then as slaves
to an owner, their bestial feelings, and their own memories of what
they were previous.
The thought to run, run away and never look back became a tried
idea, but before one could get ten stepped strides outside the
apartment door, two burly looking guards stood baring the way.
Some guards might verbal an order to return to the apartment and
there decide of some beastly future. You might think that is what
happened, but not, the one guard raised an arm and pointed a
directing finger, as the other guard snorted beastly fashion, and
tilting his head downward, eying down did give a stare like would a
bull angered and pawing the ground, ready at any aggressive act to
charge and subdue his enemy.
Returning to the apartment seemed the better of the choices offered
then, and entering, slammed the door, feeling anger too, as one
entrapped and waiting for judgment.
There lay that three-ring notebook with all the pictures and
judgments made by the professor, he degrading people, dooming them,
and leaving them as if cursed to live in an animalistic world.
Flopping into a chair, one hand reached for the notebook and with
paging through it, some of what as shown caused an odd sense of
intrigue.
Friend with Professor Haun, Misses Williamson wanted a divorce but
her loving husband would not agree. Disgusted and wrought with
anger, the subject came up in comment to the professor. He made
Misses a lurid offer, one to match her hate for the man she wished
desperately to be rid of, and the professor had a way to do it
without leaving a corpse.
Kidnapped leaving his employment, wrestled into a waiting foundation
van, sedated throughout the entire process of Reformation, Mr.
Williamson awoke from his slumber into a nightmare lifestyle of
being a pony stallion.
He must have known of what he became, and whom he was before so
changed, as he hated then his family. Mean to his children, he
likely felt embarrassment being naked even in a pony form. His only
hope of leaving his humiliation behind was with acting spiteful to
all. Children reacting to an unloving pet, bitten or kicked, their
delight for the pet waned until the sadistic woman and ex-wife did
return the pony husband to the Foundation for whatever use they
could have for such an ungrateful beast.
After his humiliation feelings faded, he still acted meanly to those
who knew him only as a pony stallion. It was later, months later
when the Professor Haun felt the kick of a pony leg that he
spitefully had Gerald gelded, and then sold at auction to a petting
zoo.
Duane Adams contacted professor Haun, a turnabout situation, as his
wife of eleven years had become an unfaithful wife and mother. He
too felt humiliated, and being extremely wealthy, he arranged for
his wife to enter what she thought was a physiological sanitarium
for counseling.
In fact, she went to stay at the Foundation apartments, and once
settled into her new surroundings, the professor had her sedated and
removed to Laboratory seven for the processing of her into what
would be her until death.
Jo-Anne, fully reformatted, became in kind to a Quarter-horse mare,
and she kept at Sunrise Research Farm for two years before allowed
then to see her son Jeffery. Her aggrieved husband thought to allow
a reuniting of his wife and the mother of Jeffery their only son, by
giving Jeffery a horse that would quite love him.
The Professor insisted a high standard of professionalism by those
working as part of his staff, as well those in lower held positions.
When the accosting of a secretary by technician met the attentions
of the Professor, he quickly asserted his status and set judgment
upon the perpetrator.
James accepted what he thought would be for him the lesser of two
dishonorable situations, as unknown then to him; the Reformation
Process made of a person something more than just animalistic.
Understood to the Professors and a few others, but generally
considered as reversible, the process was in dire fact a permanent
rearrangement.
James expected his stay in the animal world as a short five-year
sentence, something of less humiliation and shorter than what the
government might put upon him for such a vile act.
As pictured, James stood showing his evil blue eye in a cold stare,
he still a pony stallion then in his sixth year or what the
professor knew would continue for another twenty plus more years.
If similar in the same judgment, if becoming a horse or pony and
living then like was James, what he had endowed under him, and of
his herd, what he accomplished stood in the pasture as some rather
perverted sense of fun.
Pondering the attested accomplishments of all those who were
Reformatted through the process invented by the Professors, would it
be so wrong to be a volunteer?
If to join Bob in his perpetuated Zebra male state of many an
arousals, this be preferred, if made to choose between what the
Professor blatantly offered.
Or would if crazy and insane as might be the Professor, he has need
of some person becoming as an item to fill and ordered specie.
�Undecided�
As what the Professor said was a
ledger record of his many accomplishments, the book was to me as if
a Sears catalog, showing various bodily forms and lifestyles for to
make a finalized choice.
The choice of such seemed as much a perverted sort of choosing, the
prime reason for most to be as what the Professor made of them was
for enjoyment of a sensual time of thrills. They who wanted such
thrills, whether by being male of female, but having the personal
anonymity when guised, as an animal to do what to people would be a
sinful sort of existence.
Obviously, after looking through the first chapter of that ledger
book, and the comments posted there, the Process as such, allowed
some to find and live their lifelong fantasy dreams. One had to
wonder about the experience, if wishing to be as a morphed partially
changed human form to blend what is animal with a human frame; what
would think later then when the process took over and completed the
transition, making a person become as whole an animal. What then
would it be liken too, would the thrill increase, or might a sense
of dread and doom fallow that fantasy dream?
Friend Bob went along with the program, and when sold to a zoo he
turned his life challenge toward keeping those as females of his new
species as content as was he for having a similar experience.
Although for Bob what seemed to me, his constant heightened state of
many daily arousals suggested his mind dwelling then on seeking male
pleasures as his primary reason for being alive. This primal reason
for continued living of life was to me as something attune to an
unproductive life; producing offspring, true enough, but nary more
in the ability or desire to be anything more. Once they who became
then as changed, becoming an animal in form, lost the drive to make
something more of their situation. Most dwell on the easy road for a
life path of seeking sensual pleasures and reap then the benefit of
adding another to a harem.
In the ledger book were pictures and stories of some so changed that
became as friends and animal mentors of young people, offering
guidance to them, if doing it without the verbal ability of
communication.
Mark Tyler, Welsh Pony Stallion: Alias: Markey, owned by Alice Van
Der Marne, 12 years old, she was a beginner equestrian rider.
Retaining full mental alert capacity, Mark in his own fantasy dream
form, took care of his owner, teaching her to respect and know a
sense of integrity from her acting as the caregiver to her mount and
friend.
If known of such and the underlying aspects of the pony being once
human as well, the reporting of it would bring forth thousands to
volunteer!
Such high and righteous thinking made the Professor laugh and he
remarking about foolish piety. His plans dealt with the quest of
earning his fortune, as at present his Process should remain mostly
one of a well kept secret. As of those in the inner ring of
knowledgeable people, they took in people fool enough to volunteer
or needy, having lost their employment they sought for any manner of
making money, even selling some of their life years for a time of
living in a imposed sort of Hell.
Primary in the Professor�s mindset was the purposeful use of the
Process to house and feed people deemed as prisoners of the state.
He remarked openly of the wasted finances used for housing those
with life sentences, and of the rough brutes that murdered and or
brutalized people for whatever reason. Those as prisoners, the
Professor thought as his high and mighty status to set judgment on
said losers, making of them what would cost the government minimal
maintenance, while giving of a monetary return as those so processed
went about their daily drudgery of being a beast of burden.
As from my own sense of personal morality, the suggestion of the
Professor does have some merits, but there are the considerations of
those who are as prisoners from other lesser crimes, what if they
were to befall into the Process; their change would make a lite
sentence into a terminally permanent. Morality would suffer, as once
the secret of the Process went to save money; the money would become
a purpose of itself to doom and entomb others into a life of beastly
servitude.
Lincoln abolished slavery in American and the Professor Haun would
have it reinstated by a turn of events and defining the working
class as something far beneath those with power and or wealth. The
imagined host of sins covered over by sending the perpetrator and or
the victims into some animalistic guise and servitude, would in
time, then become a common thing considered as moral to society.
An about face in human rules of morality were already quite
delicate, something that those in government could easily changed
the pubic views. Reckoning on what someone thinks should change and
be then commonplace, no matter on its previous or hard taught
lessons as why society had enforced rules, the making of an ideal as
something seemingly harmless tends to defeat the previous line of
thinking.
The Devil himself did something so righteous to his own cause, when
by using Hollywood and the imaginations of lesser moral men, he made
sport of his demeanor and caused the world to think of Devils,
Demons and the diabolical powers that be as something of foolish
fantasies.
Therefore, if the devil could do it, why then not a man lacking
concerns for what is morally correct, he standing then as a supreme
judge, and would for money then willfully dooms any into damnation
and a perversion of body and soul. There is, and from the beginning
of time stood with us a force that temped man. That what is good
some force suggests as it is weak and worthily requires its
destruction. The same force taunts all that lives of acting perverse
or mean toward another, suggesting of weakness is all-bad and
strength is everything, the rule then is to kill and kill until what
is moral and or righteous is obliterated. Then for those who remain
shall see who of what sets itself up as king, high priest and or
supreme ruler of what is yet, sadly after that holocaust.
Perspectives need be the consideration of balances between what is
the godly side of man and the dark dooming part of the human
conscious. �A place for everything, and everything in its own
place,� as my mother taught me, the Process has its good use�maybe,
but if perverted, the results had wide repercussions upon us all!
Thoughts to ponder, as flipping the page in the ledger book of the
Processed, comes a story of someone who made their transformation
into betterment for all.
A mister anonymous, he who became for a young person as a 4-H
project became a pet and as much, a herd sires bull. His tenure to
be bovine as if to hide away from angry people, became a godsend to
a spiteful child and to a man embarrassed by his actions to wish for
other than his continued living.
�Perils of Identity theft�
Theft of their real identities
led them to have need of funds, cash to live as they would so
please. The offer of paid volunteering struck a cord, and in short
order they both signed away their futures. As after several weeks of
induced comatose states for each, Professor Haun woke them to the
realization their use and need for money was a thing of the past.
Completely unexpected by the two people, they awoke to being each in
a barn stall, both changed drastically of species, being bovine,
they were as cow and bull, Black Angus was their breed. Breeding was
their duty, as sire breeding of a six hundred cow herd was what
Professor Haun decided for Adam to do his utmost.
Four weeks of bovine animalistic orientation had Mona pregnant, and
Adam more than willing to romp with some very leathery vulva endowed
cows. He had something more than he did as a man and found it to be
heightened in its sensual feel. He liked his cow wife, but sought to
breed willingly with the cattle herd, his sparing finished, the
Professor leased Adam to other farms and let him run wild.
"Bad friends, makes for bad luck!"
Mr. Mike Warren III
Fraternity hazing made Mike climb the fence at Sunrise Research, he
with two brothers there, they with a camera, were along to take
pictures as Mike was to mate with a mare.
Foolhardy young men, they entered the most likely a place to find
worse fortune than of any farm in that county. Dodging the lights
and many security cameras, the three went to what appeared the
larger of the barns, it being
"Laboratory
# 7".
Set up and ready to photograph Mike as he with pants down around his
shoes stood bearing forward, he humped over the rounded rump of a
pony mare.
Inserted and beginning his thrusting, Mike saw then friend Stan fall
as lifeless to the barn floor. Raider, the bigger brother in the
fraternity made it several strides toward the barn door before he
slumped and fell face down to the barn floor.
Pony Annabelle did her best to hold tight what Mike had in her. She
a equine volunteer by choice, stood enjoying the attention of a
young man. She having felt the size and sensuality of many a
stallion since arriving and her species changed at
Laboratory # 7.
Professor Beaker working late on a young fellow, had his trussed up
off the floor, he getting his first lathered dousing of the skin
darkening formula. The sounds of laughter rarely come from the many
stalls there behind the laboratory. Most who awaken in those stalls
cry out from pains or fear, they seeing how while kept for weeks in
a induced comatose state did wake to being partially transformed
into some breed of animal.
An excellent marksman with a rifle, Professor Beaker dropped two of
the intruders, but held back, letting Annabelle milk Mike for every
drop of what he had as his sexual worth.
Scared of what would happen and of jail, Mike soon learned his
pending arrest would be the better of what might befall him.
Anesthetized, in a twilight like state, Mike had to listen as
Professor Beaker thanked the young man for his being first to
volunteer into the Thoroughbred Reformation Process Experiment.
Mike screamed as the long syringe needle entered his ear, protruded
deep into the lower lobes of his brain and spinal cord.
That was about the last Mike remembered of any pain, he like his two
friends awoke from their coma sleep some nine weeks later. Mike
discovered his body and world as changed, but to his wild fantasy
thrills, he was as he would wish was possible, and for him, is!
Strong and stocky, his temperament made him unfit for living
in an Equine lifestyle, Professor Haun used him in the Angus Process
Experiment. Older than his friends, the Reformation process makes
use of previous built muscle mass and uses it to enhance the chosen
animalistic new form. Pictured wearing his horns and after some
chemically induced breeding of cows, John Allen, Raider Ross stands
eying the camera and knowing his work is with the rumps of cows.
�Bad friends made for him his bad luck,� whatever he had
thought would be his future did change, and he discovering his pony
stallion self, then became subservient to children at the local
park.
All three found a new future and some strangely sensual times. Each
reported as missing by their parents, the police were never told of
what or where the three were sent to a research laboratory barn.
Those of the fraternity thought only their friends were discovered
and maybe fought with security guards, the laboratory grounds a
wealth of high security. Rumors of the death of the three made
rounds of the campus, but none of the three were ever seen or found
living or dead.
However, in the history of science the three named individuals will
be a part of experimentation history. Mike who went on to win many
horse races, and when four years old as a horse he was put to work
as a stud.
Raider found his real comma, discovering the weather worn vulva of a
cow was as or more sensual to him than of any coed on campus.
Stan ultimately ran away from the Park petting zoo, he had his
balls, and felt a need to use what the Professor made of his male
tool. He did well, helping to sire many a foal. He lived his life as
a stud pony on a breeding farm, there he mated with ponies, but
preferred the coming of donkey jennets, they the more sensual a
female Equine to fit his delights.
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