Transforming Irene Chapter One The Slow Transition
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Transforming Furniture free porn video
Mark worked for the Downside antique furniture store for the last six years, while still trying to earn enough money for college, when something happened.
The store often received furniture from estate sales and what arrived was a strange lot to behold. The Stanworth estate was owned by a collector of items thought of as rare, different, and plainly weird. Mrs. Arthur Stanworth had recently passed away, but just after the nightly news noted to her having married twenty times during her life.
The collection became even stranger as with each marriage attained, she found as added an additional chair to her collection. Chairs, twenty in all, each being as overstuffed, covered in animal skins, some as common hides and others as of rarely hunted beasts.
Mark helped move the lot from the Stanworth mansion to the store warehouse. It was a warm Friday afternoon and all involved worked up a lot of sweat as each chair weighed in at more than two hundred pounds.
It was part of Mark's duties to close up on Friday nights so with the work and the heat he was at closing, ready to relax. As the last sales person walked out the front door with Mark locking up behind them, he for one was ready to relax anywhere.
As Mark pulled together his lunch pail and thermos, he kept looking at each of those twenty big chairs. He did not have a date that Friday night, and his parents home was not air conditioned. Mark thought to remain at the store, it being air conditioned, and the warehouse as well was loaded with soft chairs made for a rich man to relax.
He plopped into one big chair feeling it as ever so comfortable. The chair had a manner of warmth about it, as if the very skin covering gave the seated person an extra sensation of unwinding all tensions. As Mark rested, his food and day of work coaxed him to nap.
As he slept a glint of afternoon sun rays touched the upper back of a chair. The chair came from Africa, made there by talented hands, the black and white fur hide of some game animal Mark had remarked when he carried it from the truck, as made his manager laugh.
“This is made of and worth some big bucks!”
Overheated by the hot day and his hauling of heavy furniture, Mark removed his shirt, as then his work pants, to lie in his underwear into the furry chair. Where touch of the buck-hide met bare skin the chair oddly stirred Mark, giving a friendly feeling. Lying stretched out on the big chair, the black short fur felt different, as almost welcoming, certainly unlike the many other relaxing chairs the store regularly sold.
Something about the chair allured Mark to want for enjoying the chair, as it comforted his sore muscles, relaxing out the taunt muscles of a big day. The arms of the chair were narrow and had along the sides of the chair what felt like sleeves. As Mark felt of the sleeves, he noted they were furry inside, with tanned hide made from the original skin used to cover the chair.
Mark sat there loving his chair he slid one arm down the sleeve. He found there a piece of paper, and removing it from the sleeve, as Mark saw it had writing written on it.
“As beware, my wife bought this chair for me her seventeenth husband. I know for a fact she has plans to murder, kill me, and in such a fashion as my body might never be seen or found. The chair is quite comfortable, maybe too nice, or diabolical, as relaxing into it I feel drawn to become as if a part to the chair!” Signed Charles E. Stanford.
Mark dropped the odd note and slid his hands and arms down into each of the side sleeves; they long enough to accept the full hand, arm up to the shoulder as enhancing his relaxing.
A round knob to the left side of his chair when twisted caused a leg rest to jump out the front of this wonderful chair. Similar to the armrest sleeves he was really thrilled to find comfortable leg sleeves as well. The leg sleeves began at mid thigh and ran out long, as narrowing to a small opened end his toes could insert and still wiggle. Then something forged an idea in Mark, he got up out of the big chair and stripped down to being naked before climbing back into the chair, its sleeves for hands, arms and legs.
Mark laid there and snuggled his butt into the furry cushions, slipping an arm into each sleeve made his skin warm and the soreness of his day seem to drift away. Then he slipped his legs into the upper sleeves, each made to accept one tired leg.
He pushed and shoved his leg down the sleeve as it got tighter and tighter the farther he worked it over his leg. He rather expected to see his five toes poked out the long end of the leg sleeve, but what he saw made him sit up and notice.
An additional inside sleeve covered the foot with a black tight fitted sock. When he worked his other leg then its way into the also tight leg sleeve Mark felt suddenly trapped. He began to squirm but slid himself deeper into the chair feeling its inner warmth wrap him in relaxing comfort. So relaxed was Mark that his eyelids became heavy, and he drifted off into sweet slumber.
Mark had a dream, he dreamed of a sexy realm, as saw himself wandering about in some dry arid land. He saw around himself large numbers of goats and Zebra milling about, all trying their best to find something to eat.
About then as from behind him came a voice calling his name. He turned his head and looked behind, wondering who of the animals had called him by name. Again and again he was called by name until the voice suggested he might like to find enjoyment.
“Hello,” mark heard his voice say, as then a female goat strode closer, she bleating, crying as to her dire need for sex and mating. She walked to within standing not six feet away. She voiced her suggestion he mount her, she a female of his kind, and give her what she so much longed and begged to receive.
Mark held back from making any questioning interest toward the goat. Yet her scent was rich and musky making his inner self urge him to go to her and mate.
As the dream scene faded, it became vivid, letting Mark see as feel his act of breeding with the female animal.
“This in not right, this is unholy, a sin, I am a man and you are an animal, this joining should not have happened,” Mark thought he heard his vice yelling, but what echoed the hills was the bold cry of a male feeling dominant.
Somewhere during that wet dream, Mark was sure he had ejaculated, spewing five surging ropes of his semen inside the female animal.
“No, no, please no, I must stop…,” Mark heard his voice fade again.
Scenes then became vivid as he saw his pelvis rutting, he thrusting deep inside the warm body of the female animal. He felt strange, as if split between a male delight for having sex, and his moral ideals of a man and animal should never mate together.
Mark saw not himself as mounted, penis planted, he thrusting in a beastly aggressive manner, as he questioned his own feelings, the voice from behind urging him to enjoy this special time. The thrill, joy, and feeling of fulfillment so enthralled Mark, he began helping, mounting the other female goats feeling dire needs. As another led to another he found his male self as very thrilled with this, his new beastly way of life.
Mark squirmed with each new enjoyment as he planted his hot cock, thrusting seven times before again came the surge of semen down the length of his penis, until it all seemed so worthwhile.
When that same voice congratulated Mark for a job well done, he stood there feeling the chilly air breeze tickling a limp but elongated penis, as it urged him to relax and accept some wondrous things.
The voice asked if Mark wished to stay on or head back to his home.
Mark thought hard to decide. He never felt so relaxed nor had such a wild orgy night as this with the goats. He was at that moment in total contentment after being something he would not have wanted to do except maybe in this dream.
“The offer stands, join the herd, or return to your home, as live and work being man the rest of your life!”
Suddenly the big plans and his love of family and friends meant very little. Mark stood there thinking his options over when a welcoming warm wet tongue took to licking the drying slime from off his still erect penis. His sense of desire was strong and his body offered such a vibrant feeling of a body made for pleasure.
"I do not know if I want to return home, and live my own real life," cried Mark.
That first glint of morning Sun coming in through a transit window was the alarm clock to Mark. As he opened his eyes the memories of his wild night of beastly orgy was fresh in his mind. It was the odd feelings he had as being trapped in those furred sleeves he had found so relaxing. A bit of squirming was required; Mark used his right arm to get it free of the sleeve, only for his eyes to gawk wide with a moment of personal terror.
His arm was not his arm but his foreleg!
His fingers were gone and now he sported a set of tan colored cloven hoofs.
Turning quickly, he worked his left arm free the sleeve to finding similar changes there. As he looked down the length of his naked chest he groaned an agonized moan seeing a chest of his human self but from the waist down he was decidedly a male goat.
Grumbling some at his time to choose and not able to give a direct answer, what became then as the choice, made for him to smile, he felt gratified by the thought then to remain a goat, to live then a sexual life of a herd sire delighting many doe!
Working one leg free and then the other he saw his brown shaggy haired thighs and thin feet down to black hind cloven hoofs.
When Mark tried to raise his head it felt heavy and out of balance. He suspected the worst, and was not denied his personal terror. “Horns, I have large, spiral, thick horns which curved and wound about his long pointed furry ears.
"Dumb," is what he thought to expound as say, but that sound what wriggled out past his lips was similar to the call of a common goat struggling with fear. When he rolled free out of the chair he flopped forward sprawling out face down into the chair. He laid there for several moments, seemingly as stunned, as his chest barreled out and with a dull sensual pain, his penis burrowed up, into, and emerged from a goat sheath poking out three inches below his then shaggy navel.
Pulling his new self up to a standing on the chair seat cushion, he looked around at his changed world. He wondered what might of happened had he'd slithered down in any of the other named chairs? Then his only thought left was one of hunger, and a wild need to find something to eat.
Mark leaped a bounding jump from that chair as he hit the concrete floor with slippery hooves and a sudden panic to need as stand. He was ready, set and standing on all fours as any buck goat should, feeling invigorated at the thought of his living the life of a male goat. His wiggling tail aroused both shivers of fear and many reasons for want to join a herd, worked inside a menial mind belonging to a goat.
What was his gained knowledge filled to overflow the smaller goat brain with learned human knowledge. Just as well Mark felt given to indulging of sensual instincts, lust, and delights realized form a longer, sensitive his buck-goat penis.
Some mental argument soon faded, as Mark knew of what he became, denouncing of what all he was as had when human, deciding his future. A future of living the simple life of a farm goat, being a herd sire to breed and mate, accentuating his sense of thrills as he gains a realization of his beastly shorter lifespan.
Mark knew too the urging as bothered voice, being a spirit given to taunting human kind and from it gain the owning of, as redirecting of souls to a hot and final finality. Such worry of what comes at the end of a lifetime would evade Mark as he contemplates his days, weeks, seasons, into plans of mating, conquests of sex with Doe goats.
Jo
- 13.05.2020
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