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Tangled in Transformation: The Lion's Roar
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AmethystMare
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The Magic of Transformation: Volume 1B (eBook teaser)

the_magic_of_transformation_volume_1b_teaser.doc
Keywords male 696187, female 575578, cat 121333, wolf 119594, feline 83064, pony 73383, human 53020, horse 40744, feral 40286, equine 24785, transformation 17874, woman 13580, fantasy 13159, magic 13048, mare 12761, cheetah 10534, man 9839, clean 8298, story 7639, cow 6418, tf 5102, animal 5032, bovine 4630, adventure 3281, surprise 2831, non-anthro 2541, creature 2499, advertisement 1031, revenge 727, short story 632, teaser 570, supernatural 412, collection 212, preview permanent 131, non-sexual 56, ebook 27, non-erotic 21, mini story 19, the magic of transformation 3, mini story collection 2, ebook teaser 1
The Magic of Transformation
Volume 1B


Thank you for reading! This is a preview for Volume 1B of The Magic of Transformation, which is a collection of five mini stories focused around transformation. These stories are also in the full Volume 1.

Smashwords:   HYPERLINK "https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/947211"  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/947211  

From Man to Broodmare

Dylan grumbled to himself, setting the pitchfork up against the wall. Straw clung rudely to the tines and he glared at it, yet made no move to shake the wet bedding loose. Jetset's stable was always a fucking mess to muck it, took fucking forever. It wasn't hard to resent that arsehole of a horse with how much of a mess he made, peeing in the whole stable and soaking what should have been the base layer of straw, hardly needing to be shifted.

But no, of course, he couldn't be clean like Arizona, that would have been too much trouble for the old bay gelding. He'd be off to retirement soon anyway and then Dylan would be shot of the bugger. But then his stable would be filled by another hungry mouth, probably some fine sports horse type that came up lame as soon as you glanced at it wrong, and the whole cycle would repeat itself, if only in a slightly different manner.

Swearing and muttering under his breath - there was no one but him left on the yard - Dylan ran his dirty fingers back through his blonde hair, which had once again grown long and unruly. It would need cutting, but where was the time for that? He didn't even want to work on a dirty stable yard, but the pittance of wages was the only job he could find!

Slamming a water bucket down beside the hose, he puffed out his cheeks with air and tapped his foot against the concrete, letting the water splatter noisily into the container. It splashed up over his legs and shoes, drawing another bout of cursing from his foul mouth.

``Don't know why I stay at this fucking shit hole,'' he snarled under his breath, lugging the bucket bodily into the nearest stable. ``Fucking shit factory, this is. None of you lot give a shit about the work we do.''

As if the horses in the indoor stable block agreed, one snorted and scraped a hoof against the floor, digging through his bedding. Dylan grumbled some more and shoved the bucket up to the wall with the toe of his boot.

But what he found when he turned to leave the stall was nothing more than a closed door. He blinked at it, leaning over to rattle the bolt, but it was slid all the way across and the bottom bolt also neatly secured.

``What the fuck?'' He yelled, slamming both palms into the top of the door. ``Who the fuck thinks it's a good fucking laugh to lock me in here? You don't think I can't just jump out over the fucking door, do you?''

Down the block, the horses shifted uneasily, but their restless jostling could not loom over the rap of booted feet making their way, at a perfectly leisurely pace, down the centre aisle. From where he'd tied up the occupant of the stable he was trapped in, Jetset nickered, though it was a sound of greeting.

``Dylan, isn't it?''

The yard manager, Aria, pursed her lips, blonde hair scraped back in a tight, serious ponytail that didn't dare bounce on her shoulders. Growling, Dylan threw his hands up and glared at her, chest rising and falling rapidly in short, sharp breaths.

``Yes, it's Dylan,'' he snarled. ``You gonna let me out or not, woman?''

She raised an eyebrow. Her smart yard jacket, stylish and yet still warm, didn't have a speck of straw on it. It was as if she'd chosen it especially for an occasion but for what occasion nobody knew.

Or maybe Aria knew.

``No, I really don't think I will.''

Dylan grunted and ground the toe of his boot into the concrete.

``What's this, some kind of sick joke?''

Aria's smile was tight, as if she was holding something back behind the like of her perfectly straight teeth.

``Maybe to you. I hope your attitude comes a side better than it is now.''

``What the fuck you on about?''

Stepping back, Aria surveyed him.

``Oh, you'll see in a moment, I'm sure. I'm told it's painless, but, with the language that comes out of your mouth and how I've seen you raise your hand to Jetset, I wouldn't waste time feeling sorry for you if it was painful.''

Dylan's expression twisted, but the words he wanted to hurl forth, barbed and dripping with poison, died on his lips, throat closing up as if a fist was clenched around it. He hacked and bent over, crumpling to the floor as his muscles went into spasms, body beyond his control as he made a sound like a trapped animal, a death rattle in his lungs.

``Excellent. You will suffer.''

He barely took note of her words, writhing as he clutched at his throat, eyes bulging out of his skull. But Aria only smiled, her image greying and wavering as she leaned over the bottom half of the stable door, just to enjoy his suffering all the more. Despite his throat closing up and disallowing the sanctity of breath, his lungs did not ache and terror clawed at him all the more fiercely as the only sounds he could get out were shockingly animal in nature, grunts and snorts bursting from suddenly fluttering nostrils.

Dylan could not have known that his whole world was changing. The stable dipped nauseatingly as he rolled onto all fours, hands slamming into the concrete as his fingernails turned grey, the colour spreading up into his hands as if he had been taken by a sudden sickness. He rubbed at them, but his skin grew hard beneath his very eyes, bones cracking as they realigned themselves and his hands pushed into a new shape entirely.

His head reeled and he swung it heavily to the side, chest heaving even though he could not yet draw breath. His mind clicked sluggishly through what he could see, though he had not the sense of mind to go for the stable door again or attempt any kind of escape as he was slowed down and down and down as his body transformed without his consent or control.

The first notice he had of his yard T-shirt growing tighter and tighter was when it split across his shoulders, the seam giving up as muscles bulged. His scruffy jeans were quick to follow suit, buttocks swelling as something tingled at the base of his spine. Dylan tried to scream, but his face pushed out and out, eyes sliding to the sides of his head as his vision realigned itself grotesquely.

``Oh, it does act quickly, doesn't it? You're the first to try this out. You should be honoured, Dylan.''

Aria laughed cruelly, resting her cheek on her hand.

``Well, you're not going to have the scope for that kind of emotion for much longer anyway, so I suppose that's by the by now.''

Dylan hardly heard her and had not the sense about him to care. The stable seemed to grow smaller around him as his line of sight rose up, but it was with a start he realised, flinching back, that it was him that was getting larger and not the stable smaller. His feet pushed back into the deep, straw bed as his back stretched out and out and out, putting his frame into a new shape and way of going. It was more comfortable to be on his hands and feet, back pushed up, than resting on his knees, and Dylan grunted weakly, head hanging as the weight of it tried to drag him down into the bed he'd not so carefully forked into shape.

``Poor thing...'' There was no sympathy in Aria's voice. ``Your neck will support that big old thing again soon, don't you worry. Need a bit more muscle there, but the change is far from complete.''

And it was true. As he tried to look up, the movement became easier and easier, neck elongating and bulging with muscle that no human neck could have or should have supported, nearly on the same level as the stable door. Puffing wildly, he stared at Aria as his ears tingled, migrating up to the top of his head and tucking themselves into a petal shape, sounds that he had never heard in such crisp detail before reaching his newly positioned ears.

He snorted, but still did not understand. He could not have understood.

Red hair prickled into life on his bare arms, though they hardly looked like arms anymore with a bulge of joint where he guessed his wrist would have been, his weight borne by a hard circle of grey bone. He tried to step back, scraping over the floor, and stumbled, finding a more stable position as he spread his legs, balancing with a different stance than what he was used to.

Only then did he look down, dragging his gaze from Aria, and blink at the new pair of hooves he found there - impossible to miss, with his knowledge and work on the stable yard.

No...

But the horror was restrained, sucked into the pit of his belly as a sense of deep, profound calm rolled over him. His stomach curved neatly, tucking up to his haunches, and he snorted as hairs shot from the base of his spine, hanging down in a thick, chestnut tail that would have rivalled the full locks of any of the show horses he'd seen. His cheek was dished, demonstrating what could have been fine breeding if he had actually been a natural born equine. Against himself, he arched his neck, leaning into the welcoming spill of hair as a mane flourished, a vibrant red that glistened even beneath the harsh fluorescent bulbs, buzzing and flickering crudely.

But that was not the most prominent change still. Dylan grunted and shuddered as his human member drew up to his body, skin turning grey there too as if it had always been that way. He wanted to feel terror, but all seemed to be falling into place - at least in his mind - and he merely groaned softly as all sense of his maleness disappeared, his genitals instead warming into a new equine teardrop-shaped sex tucked right up beneath the pucker of his anal ring. His tail flicked, lifting automatically, and he shivered as the long hairs brushed it, needing trimming around the dock.

For his final shame and to complete the transformation as her new sides and neck lathered with sweat, hair swirled into the dampness, his soft, grey skin pulled into a pair of teats in front of his hind legs, the udders small and pert, those of a maiden mare. Fit to a fault, she could have been ready to race or canter around a high stakes show jumping arena, her kind eye liquid and bright, nostrils pleasingly shaped and quivering with breath.

It was her very first true breath as an equine, Dylan's old life as a human far behind in a darkened twist of strife. But she was not to know that. She only knew of her life as it was in that moment, her past a pleasant blur. The mare chewed thoughtfully. There was nothing to fear.

Only then did Aria let herself into the stall, sliding the bottom bolt smoothly back out of place. If Dylan had been a smarter gentleman, he would have jumped or scrambled over the door while he'd had a chance. It wasn't as if the door was terribly high, after all, but his loss was certainly her gain. She offered her hand to the mare and the beautiful creature that had once been an angry young man and the mare gladly nosed at it, taking in the scent of her for the first time.

And now she had a new mare in her stable to show for his lack of intelligence. She chuckled to herself, her amusement catching the mare's attention as those large, pointed ears swivelled to her. Funny how things worked out sometimes.

``Santana,'' she said, running her palm down the mare's arched neck, glistening with sweat. ``I think that name will do very nicely for you. You don't have any need for your old one anymore.''

Pressing her nose into Aria's hand, Dylan - now Santana - snorted softly, taking in her owner's scent. She lipped hopefully at her palm, but found no treats there. But Santana was content. She had nothing more to worry about in life and Aria's voice warbled softly over her as she relaxed, speaking of foals to come and stallions she would pair her with.

Santana had no control over her life, but that was okay too. She knew how well Aria treated her horses and, well, being a mare surely could not be all that bad, growing fat and heavy on spring grass while a little one pranced and frolicked around her, learning the ways of the world.

Sighing contentedly, she nuzzled Aria's shoulder and the yard manager smiled, pleased with her creation.

Santana's new life as a broodmare had begun.

End preview.

Thank you for reading! This is a preview for Volume 1B of The Magic of Transformation, which is a collection of five mini stories focused around transformation. These stories are also in the full Volume 1.

Smashwords:   HYPERLINK "https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/947211"  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/947211  

The Office Wolf

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, the walls of the cubicle seeming to close in on me with terrifying solidity. They were the same as ever, white and imposing with the bustle of office life trickling by outside. I watched the clock, the second hand seeming to slow and slow and slow.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Would the day never end? It was the same story every day and I was hardly high enough up the totem pole to actually do any kind of interesting work. I ran my fingers back through my hair, finding the black strands greasy from not showering the night before. I made a face, but there was no one there to see it. I really was disgusting sometimes, disgusting myself with my own lack of self-care. But there didn't seem to be any point in it when I had no one to go home to and a dinner for one, nonetheless after a grinding day at the office doing the same thing over and over and over again, waiting for me alone.

But that day was not like any other day.

I'll never know why the changes began, although I'll be ever thankful that they did. The first thing I noticed was my nails getting longer before my very eyes, pressing together into what could only be claws. But my mind didn't have time to catch up with that mind-boggling fact as dark grey hair prickled into life as if my arm hair had suddenly gone entirely out of control. I'd never been a particularly hairy person, but that was certainly about to change.

I shoved my chair back from the desk with a gasp that no one heard, wheels squeaking and my head spinning. I remember trying to catch up with myself, work out what the fuck was happening, but that wouldn't be possible until much, much later, after the exhilaration of transformation, potent to the extreme, had finally worn off. For I may as well have been heavily intoxicated for all the giddy joy that swept through me, carrying me up and through as if on a tidal wave.

But it was good. It was positive. An insane giggle bubbled up from my lips, not sounding like it belonged to me, but it was the last sound I would ever make as a human being. My face pushed out and out and out, melding into a long snout as my nostrils tucked up into slivers in a moist, twitching nose. That spread of hair reached further and further and, if I had been nude, I would have seen that even my chest was covered, but it was hardly becoming to be shirtless in the middle of a professional office.

That option of clothing, however, was soon to be ripped from me as my body shifted. Taking on a new form would never be easy, no matter how many times it happened, and I groaned deep in the back of my throat, something raw and primal that I would never have expected to hear. Dimly, I was aware of bones cracking into a new alignment, but there was no sense of pain as this part of the transformation, my innards churning as if a sensation told rather than felt. I would forever be glad of that, as I had heard many stories of my brethren experiencing the most painful transformations imaginable.

I was one of the lucky ones. And my next form would be the most glorious one of all.

A snarl tore itself from me as I hunched forward, sliding off the chair entirely as my legs came up beneath me. It was much more comfortable to be on all fours and I heaved and shuddered as my clothes ripped, unable to contain the new shape of my forming hindquarters and stronger, more powerful chest. My neck came up, allowing me to raise my head more comfortably as muscle supported it, a thick ruff of grey fur shot through with black fluffing up around my throat.

Itching, my ears migrated to the top of my head, drawing up into alert points as the human life in my eyes gleamed in a far more intelligent amber - the amber of an animal. But it was the animal that I wanted to be, shucking the coils of human life for something altogether more glorious.

A tail. There had always been a tail and, oh, how I'd missed it! I whimpered and twisted in sheer excitement as it sprouted from the base of my spine, ready-coated with a wonderful covering of thick fur, which fluffed up all over my body, protection from the cold that I would surely need. My maleness tucked up into that fur, a neat sheath pulling it in safe and close to my body for that was one part indeed that I did want to keep safe!

There was not much left to the transformation, I could feel it, but I still hopped impatiently between my hind and fore paws even as they formed. Toes pulled closer together, pads forming on the underside of my feet as they became paws, the claws that were my fingernails now matching the ones on the toes of my hind paws. I snuffled excitedly at them, shivering as the full weight of the transformation settled over me. The new skin fit me like a glove as if it was the body that I had always been meant to have.

Growling, I shook off the shreds of my clothes from where they hung in tatters about my new form, leaping onto my desk for the simple, unadulterated thrill of what my body could now do.

My workmate gaped at me over the top of the divider as I barked happily at him, wagging my tail. He gaped at me, mouth opening and closing soundlessly until he came back to himself with a strangled shriek that was fairly comical coming from the lips of such normally simplistic gentleman.

``Jesus Christ, it's a fucking wolf!''

The office erupted into chaos around me, their screams music to my ears as I tipped my head back and howled.

It was good to be a wolf.

End preview.

Thank you for reading! This is a preview for Volume 1B of The Magic of Transformation, which is a collection of five mini stories focused around transformation. These stories are also in the full Volume 1.

Smashwords:   HYPERLINK "https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/947211"  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/947211  

Thank you for reading!

 

If you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed!

 HYPERLINK "https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/"; https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/  

 

All new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!

@alismitsy

I am also available for custom stories, tailored to your preferred nuances and characters. Please e-mail the following address for further information.

 HYPERLINK "mailto:arianmabe@gmail.com" arianmabe@gmail.com  



If you liked this story, you may also enjoy...

Class Taste

Predator and prey have always had a twisted and dark relationship in the world of furries but the prey creatures soon learned a way to make the predators in charge submit. Working ahead of their time with tools and devices, they subdue every last predator in the world to make them slaves for their whim, anthros of a cause and with the sharp intelligence that comes with being an ascended creature.

These creatures do not walk on all fours like their ancestors but are of an entirely different ilk, prey creatures learning and progressing in the world while every predator is nothing more than a slave and a servant, often not treated very well in the slightest. It is common to see a slave with bruises and broken, bleeding skin but no one cares about things like that when they are simply seen as lesser beings.

But such an injustice in the balance of things cannot go amiss for so long and unrest is stirring in the heart of the system, a lone wolf rising up above the clamour of slavery to take back what is rightfully theirs. They are not pets and servants and slaves searching for scraps but proud creatures themselves! They never agreed to live a life on their knees and there is only so much that a strained bough can take before, ultimately, it snaps.

Yet what he wants to bring to the world may not be what everyone suspects...

Tangled in Transformation: Volume 1A

Human beings have been fascinated with transformation for years upon years, chanting and intoning spells in order to take on other forms - forms that can allow them to fly or become something that the human condition simply cannot hope to ever, not even once, achieve. Eagles soar and wolves lead the pack but sometimes that transformation too is unwanted and unwarranted.

These are the tales of men transformed into creatures and brought to a new sense of life unlike anything they could ever have imagined before...

This collection contains the following stories:

1. Antelope Anticipation

2. From Man to Moo

3. One Man Becomes a Mount

4. She Wanted a Dog

5. A Lion's Roar

Please note that these mini stories are each approximately 1000 words in length.

Tangled in Transformation: Volume 1B

Men are not the only ones to undergo transformation in a mystical world of wonder where nothing is quite as it seems, becoming creatures that are beyond their wildest dreams, predatory and mighty. Out in the jungle, poised in victory on a mountain: there is no place that is safe from the magic infiltrating the world and these women are out to find what will change them or, of course, be changed through the dull tremor of the worst of times, the beasts that they have come to harm getting their payback in a rather unique way...

All must come to justice and the reward is as sweetly potent as the punishment. Which side of the coin do you reside on?

This collection contains the following stories:

1. An Eagle's Heart

2. Black Panther's Stalk

3. Bliss as a Hippocampus

4. Mean Old Mule

5. The Feline Persuasion

Please note that these mini stories are each approximately 1000 words in length.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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First in pool
Last in pool

The magic of transformation is not for the elite but sometimes the lost may stumble off the given path...and fall off into the claws of those hungry for what they can provide them. The twists and turns of modern life can only be thwarted further by the curlings and trappings of the supernatural when they come into the forefront of trouble times.

Some are willing participants in transformation and others are caught up in the desire for revenge. Sometimes a little of both. But each change tells a new tale...

Please note that this is a collection of five mini stories that are also part of the collection "The Magic of Transformation: Volume 1".


---

Thank you for reading! This is a preview for Volume 1B of The Magic of Transformation, which is a collection of five mini stories focused around transformation. These stories are also in the full Volume 1.

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/947211





Thank you for reading!
 
If you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed!

https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/
 

All new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!

@alismitsy

I am also available for custom stories, tailored to your preferred nuances and characters. Please e-mail the following address for further information.

arianmabe@gmail.com

Keywords
male 696,187, female 575,578, cat 121,333, wolf 119,594, feline 83,064, pony 73,383, human 53,020, horse 40,744, feral 40,286, equine 24,785, transformation 17,874, woman 13,580, fantasy 13,159, magic 13,048, mare 12,761, cheetah 10,534, man 9,839, clean 8,298, story 7,639, cow 6,418, tf 5,102, animal 5,032, bovine 4,630, adventure 3,281, surprise 2,831, non-anthro 2,541, creature 2,499, advertisement 1,031, revenge 727, short story 632, teaser 570, supernatural 412, collection 212, preview permanent 131, non-sexual 56, ebook 27, non-erotic 21, mini story 19, the magic of transformation 3, mini story collection 2, ebook teaser 1
Details
Type: Writing - Document
Published: 2 weeks, 3 days ago
Rating: General

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