ReGenesis Inc. free porn video

ReGenesis, Inc. (revised) Author's Notes by Bill Hart After some discussions about story universes on TSA-TALK a couple of weeks or so ago, I decided to revisit this story, which was originally posted to TSA_TALK in September 1997. As a result, I expanded it, rewrote parts of it, and added new parts to it. The original was around 36K in length and this revision is around 75K in length. I'm also about a third of the way through a prequel to this story and I've started outlining another story here. To those who freely archive stories, you may, if you like, archive this. Please make no changes in the content. Those archiving stories publicly, please let me now where you archive it. Hope you all enjoy. ReGenesis, Inc. (revised) by Bill Hart "You, stupid fucking dumb shit." swore Jerry Phelder, as he stared through bleary blood-shot eyes at his sorry looking reflection in the bathroom mirror. He splashed water in his face, then he swallowed another half-dozen aspirins in an attempt to get rid of his monster headache. "What the fuck was I thinking about last night? I know I shouldn't have gotten drunk. Hell, I knew I shouldn't have even taken that first drink. That should teach me not to go visiting any of my old haunts. Not when I knew I had that important job interview this morning." Jerry looked at his watch. He was only two hours late for an interview with a company well known for its strict requirement of punctuality from their employees. "Screw it." he swore. "I'll just have to go out and look for work elsewhere." But things might have worked out differently if he hadn't had that fight with his ex-wife. The only reason he'd gone over to see Phyllis at all was to try and explain to her why she wouldn't be getting a child support check from him this month. He just had no money to give her. Last week, he'd received the last of his unemployment benefits and he was still unemployed. But he'd also told Phyllis he had a promising interview in the morning and felt confident they'd hire him. And once he was employed again, he'd easily be able to catch up on his support payments within a couple of months. Jerry had thought Phyllis would understand that with _no_ money coming in, there couldn't possibly be anything for him to pay out. He really felt badly about it, since they were still his children and he felt it was his responsibility to provide all he could for them. In the seven years since he and Phyllis had finalized their divorce, Jerry had never once missed making his support payment. Neither had he ever been late. He was very proud of that fact. And he'd felt certain that those facts would buy him some compassion from Phyllis for the month or two, certainly no more than three, he required to get back on his feet again. But he'd been wrong. Even though he'd promised to make up all payments he missed with interest added, Phyllis exploded at him. Jerry had been shocked, when she called him a "deadbeat" and a "poor excuse of a father." She told him bluntly she'd have him arrested and thrown in jail if he didn't make his support payment in full and on time. "If you don't believe me, Jerry," she had told him smugly, "then just miss your payment and see how long it takes the cops to throw your lazy ass in jail. The courts are on my side in this, just you wait and see." From that point, their fight had quickly degenerated into childish name calling on both sides. Jerry couldn't believe that Phyllis was being so petty and uncaring about his situation. He'd paid regularly and on time for the past seven years, sometimes having to go hungry for a few days just to give them a little something extra. In his exasperation with her unexpected attitude, Jerry angrily stormed out of his ex-wife's house, slamming the door shut behind him. Jerry walked around for several hours trying to cool down. When he finally stopped and looked around to gain his bearings, he was surprised to find himself standing in front of "Bart's Downwind Bar," a place he'd frequented regularly shortly after his divorce. Knowing he shouldn't, Jerry went inside anyway, spending what little money he had left on booze he didn't need. What he had done at the "Downwind" was a mystery. How he had got home last night was also a mystery. "Too much booze." whispered Jerry. "Shit. I can't afford to get caught up in that again." Jerry slipped on the shirt he'd worn last night. He'd just been thinking of all the mysteries of last night, and now, he had another one to contemplate. Folded up in his shirt pocket, Jerry found a copy of an odd looking flyer, whose original had obviously been handwritten. FANTASTIC EMPLOYMENT OPPORTUNITY Participate with ReGenesis,Inc. NO previous experience necessary Excellent medical benefits Salary negotiable Long-term Employment Possibilities Employer Loyalty to Employees Jerry thought it very strange for the flyer to have no phone number listed to call for additional information, but it was clearly written that job applicants should apply in person at 13 Griffen's Egg Road. It sounded to good to be true. And when Jerry turned the flyer over, he found handwritten instructions to the address on the other side in an unknown hand. And also a time - 10:45am. Jerry assumed he had met someone at the "Downwind" last night. They must have discussed his job and/or his money problems. Not having any memories of what had actually happened, he wondered what he had told this person. But, given the flyer, along with the instructions on its other side, he must have made an appointment with whomever he'd met there for 10:45 this morning. "You might just as well go to this one." he told his reflection. "You've got just enough time to get there. And even if it does look a little too good to be true, it still might turn out to be a reasonably decent opportunity. You sure as hell haven't anything left to lose." Jerry never noticed his headache had vanished. * * * * * Jerry had no problems following the instructions on the back of the flyer. But he was glad that they'd been written down for him, because he definitely would not have remembered them any better than he recalled who had given them to him, what they'd talked about, or anyone else he might have met in the "Downwind" last night. Arriving at the address per those instructions, Jerry was stunned by the vast immensity of the building. It might have been only three stories tall, but it appeared to stretch for miles in every other visible direction. But very strangely, the building had no windows, just solid nondescript off white walls, in either its top or bottom floors. And even those on the middle floor appeared to be centrally located above the small entrance door, which themselves, being the only apparent breaks in the boundless stretch of wall, added to the strangeness of the building before him. As he entered through the door, Jerry expected to be standing in the company's reception area, which he also assumed would have to be lit with several lights to adequately compensate for the lack of windows on the floor. But instead of the reception area he'd expected, much to his surprise, there was only a poorly lit stairwell with a single flight of stairs that led upwards, ending abruptly at another doorway. After climbing up the stairs and passing through the new doorway, Jerry found himself standing in a very wide-open, apparently naturally lit reception area. Even though there were several windows allowing sunshine through, the amount of available light inside surprised him. There appeared to be no functional interior lighting at all, but even those places Jerry thought should be deep in shadow were as evenly illuminated as every other place in the room. This was definitely one very strange place, thought Jerry as he looked about the room. Sitting behind a desk was a very attractive young woman, dressed in what Jerry readily assumed was some kind of company uniform. Having seen no other people around, Jerry hoped she was the company's receptionist. "Hello, sir." said the young woman as Jerry approached her desk. "How may I help you today, sir?" she asked with a smile that for some reason made Jerry feel very comfortable. At the same time, and quite inexplicably, he found himself becoming physically aroused just being in her presence. "I certainly hope so." replied Jerry returning her infectious smile. He really hoped the young raven-haired beauty had not noticed him staring at her. But with her exotic beauty, Jerry was certain any man seeing her would feel exactly as he did now. For some unexplainable reason, he found himself wanting her more than he'd ever wanted any other woman. However, depending on how this company viewed potential relationships among its employees, this intense physical attraction he was feeling for this woman he'd never met before might jeopardize his possible employment here. He pulled the flyer from his pocket "I have an appointment, miss." he calmly bluffed. "I talked to one of your people last night and was given this flyer." Handing the paper to the receptionist, Jerry hoped that the scenario he'd just invented was close enough to what had actually happened to prevent him from being tossed out of the building by the company's security. To Jerry's relief, the woman simply answered "We've been expecting you, Mr. Phelder. Now, which of our programs are you interested in. Vanished species? Or mythological species?" "What?" Jerry asked in confusion, having no idea what she was talking about now. "Are you interested in vanished species or mythological species?" she repeated. "Those are the two primary areas in which our company is currently doing research and investigation." "What's the difference?" asked Jerry feeling foolish. Whoever he had spoken with last night had probably already explained this difference, along with several other things he didn't remember. "Are you really sure I don't need any kind of previous experience?" "Absolutely certain, Mr. Phelder." She smiled at him again causing his anxiety to quickly fade and be as swiftly replaced once more by an urgent sense of lust for her. "The company will teach you everything you need to know past whatever is plain and simple common sense. And the longer you remain with us, Mr. Phelder, the less they'll need to explain to you." she replied apparently not noticing him staring at her again. Continuing on, as if from some memorized script, the woman then answered his initial question. "Vanished species are those that at one time actually existed, but are now extinct. These are animals like Dodo birds, passenger pigeons, wooly mammoths, Tasmanian wolves, and just about every type of dinosaur ever known. It is a list that unfortunately grows longer with each passing day. On the other hand, mythological species are those that have never actually existed, except, of course, in our imaginations - _until now_, that is. Some examples are dragons, griffens, unicorns, centaurs, and satyrs." "What's a centaur?" asked Jerry curiously. This is very odd, he thought. Why am I so suddenly and inexplicably curious about something I only remember vaguely from ... somewhere ... that at this moment eludes me? "Centaurs are a crossbreed species of man and horse, that is, they are half man and half horse. They have a horse's body, but where the head and neck of a horse would normally be you have instead the torso, head, and arms of a man." recited the receptionist. "They were previously known only from Greco-Roman mythology." How interesting, thought Jerry. There was something about centaurs that appealed to him. He wasn't exactly certain what it was about them he found appealing, but it must have started at the first mention of centaurs by the receptionist. He found himself answering her question concerning his preference of species, as if he were somehow being compelled. "Mythological, I think." "Very well, Mr. Phelder." smiled the young woman. "You will need to speak with Dr. Sinclair. I'll go get him. Please have a seat." Jerry wondered if this exotic beauty was married, or seeing someone special. She had such a nice smile. And in just talking with her, he knew he must get to know her better. If she were single or otherwise unattached, he wondered if she would consider going out with him some night after work - that is, if they actually hired him here. As he had been doing since first speaking to her, Jerry continued to stare at the pretty young woman. As she came out from behind her desk, he was completely surprised at seeing her sitting in a wheelchair, her legs and lower body from just above the waist covered by a very thick and odd-looking wool blanket that, if he didn't know better, appeared to be soaking wet. Jerry was amazed at this new development. He had had no clue whatever while speaking with her that she was in a wheelchair. But, where this might have bothered him before, her confinement to that chair did nothing to dull his increasing attraction towards her. He hoped she wouldn't think it a "mercy date," when he asked her out after work. Before Jerry could recover from his surprise at seeing the exotic receptionist in a wheelchair, an older man with thin graying hair came through the door behind the receptionist's desk. "I'm Dr. Robert Sinclair." said the man as he extended his hand to Jerry. "But you can call me Bob. We try not to be overly formal around here. There are just too many titles of so many varying disciplines floating around this place to keep everybody straight otherwise." "Jerry Phelder." replied Jerry as he shook the doctor's hand. "And if we're going to be informal, then I suppose you can just call me Jerry." "Excellent, Jerry." replied Bob. "Margie and Vincent have both indicated to me that you are interested in our work on mythological species?" "Margie?" asked Jerry. "Vincent?" "Margie is the receptionist you've been talking to. Didn't she give you her name?" replied Bob looking back at the woman who had silently resumed her place behind the reception desk. "And you talked to Vincent last night. Don't you remember, Jerry?" "No, she didn't ..." replied Jerry. But not wanting to get her into any trouble, he added, "At least I don't remember her telling me her name." And hoping Bob would buy his story, he said, "Oh, Vincent. Last night, he said his name was Vinnie." "No problem, Jerry. That sounds just like Vincent, but I will have to speak with Margie later. She's still very new here and sometimes a little shy around prospective employees. She's still a little uncomfortable with many of our informalities." said Bob. Jerry saw Margie blush. "But she'll get used to it in time. Just as you will when you decide to join us. Now, Jerry, which mythological species do you find most interesting?" "You know, I never really thought much about mythological species before today." said Jerry. "Or last night either." he hurriedly added. But other than what little Bob had said about Vincent, Jerry was totally relieved that no further references to his _forgotten_ meeting with Vincent had been made. "But something did sorta click in the back of my mind when Margie mentioned 'centaurs.' I don't really know why it did. It just did." "Centaurs. That's an excellent choice for you, Jerry." said Bob with a smile unseen by Jerry. "Allow me to show you our centaur holding area." Centaur holding area, thought Jerry? How can a mythological beast, something that doesn't even exist, have its own area of any kind? Bob and Jerry entered the sparsely populated office areas through the door behind Margie. For all intents and purposes, they were virtually ignored by the rest of the working staff. Jerry reasoned that this was standard operating procedure here and wondered which of the many vacant offices would soon be his. Bob led Jerry to another door oddly located, in what Jerry had thought was just a supporting pillar, near the center of the room. When Bob opened the door, Jerry plainly saw that the only flight of stairs inside led up to the third floor. Once they'd climbed the stairs, the stairwell opened into an extremely long hallway dotted with several additional doors of its own staggered along both sides of it at irregular intervals. As he followed Bob to what had been called the "centaur holding area," Jerry had curiously peeked through open doors as they'd passed by them. In one room, he could have sworn he saw men with the legs and hooves of goats. In another room, Jerry had seen horses with long and very sharp-looking horns extending from their foreheads. And in yet another, he had seen an incredibly beautiful pale green girl apparently emerging from inside a tree. By now, Jerry was worrying that he'd gotten involved in something way over his head, especially since everything he saw seemed so strange. Adding to his worries, was the apparent total lack of any security - at least, any _visible_ security. A place like this _must_ have some security, he thought Finally Bob stopped just outside one of the doors. After opening it, he motioned for Jerry to follow him inside. Once they were inside the room, Jerry saw an enormous wooded area behind a thick glass pane that stretched from the floor up to ceiling of the small room they now occupied as observers. And within that wooded area behind the glass, Jerry saw something he could not believe. Exactly as Margie had described them, there were centaurs in the woods. _Real live_ centaurs. Among them, Jerry saw only a couple of males. Given all the females he saw, Jerry wondered if there were more males around somewhere. The males were larger than the females, not that either gender could be described as small. All of them are so huge, thought Jerry. Another thing he noticed was their hair. Except for what grew on their heads, their human halves all appeared to be otherwise hairless. The short hair on the males' human heads matched the color of their equine bodies. All of the females, of which Jerry saw plenty, had long flowing hair matching the colors of their tails. It flowed down across their backs to cover the seam where their human torsos melded into their equine bodies. All of their human halves, regardless of gender, stood totally nude, which didn't seem to bother them. The males he saw had rippling pectoral muscles. And Jerry had never before seen in any one place, so many females with the large, full, and firm breasts that seemed to be the normal here. "I thought Margie said that centaurs were mythological..." said Jerry, obviously stunned by what he now saw. "They don't ..., they, eh, can't ..., exist." "That used to be true, Jerry." replied Bob. "But what used to be true is true no longer. We have discovered a way to create them." "That's impossible!" "Take a real good look at them, Jerry." said Bob patiently. "Watch them walk about the woods. They live and they breathe, Jerry. Tell me truthfully. Do they look like they don't, or can't, exist to you?" "Well, no. I guess not. They actually look as alive as either you or me, Bob." replied Jerry. "They look fantastic. This is absolutely remarkable." But as he continued to watch, one of the males caught his eye and appeared to smile back at him. "Can they see us, Bob?" he asked. "No, they can't." replied the doctor. "It's a one-way glass. We can see in, but they can't see out. That was done so we could observe them from here without affecting their natural actions." "But one of the males just smiled at me." "We've noticed that occasionally, generally with one of the males, ourselves." answered Bob. "We know they can't actually see us because of the glass, but we have theorized they must have developed some new sense that tells them when we're here watching them." "But I could have sworn he was looking right at me, Bob." "Most of us have had that happen to us at one time or another. It's a little freaky at first, but after a while either they no longer sense us or they decided to ignore us." While Bob explained, Jerry continued to raptly watch the inhabitants of the woods behind the glass. Seeing Jerry's intense interest, Dr. Sinclair asked, "How would you like to join them, Jerry?" "What?" answered a confused and startled Jerry. "It was a very simple question, Jerry. How would you like to join their ranks? We have the means to transform you into a centaur." "But ..." "But what, Jerry? It is an extremely simple procedure that is also completely reversible, provided you want it to be. As an incentive for you, as long as you remain a centaur we'll provide for all your everyday wants and needs. You'll have no out-of-pocket expenses. And if that isn't enough, we'll also assume total maintenance of _all_ of your outside obligations for the duration of your stay with us. You won't have to worry about your ex-wife throwing "your lazy ass" in jail for missing your first child support payment in seven years. You have a totally win-win situation here, Jerry." "Is this procedure of yours really totally reversible?" asked Jerry, who was suddenly fascinated with thoughts of being able to mingle with all the centaur fillies he'd seen. And there were definitely a lot of them to consider mingling with. All things considered, all those overly endowed and very naked fillies were a very definite plus in the selling points department. "Completely, Jerry. It's totally guaranteed." "And you'll pay my child support?" "For as long as you remain a centaur." replied Bob. "Is it possible to try it for just a little while?" asked Jerry. "You know, a trial period to see if I actually like being one of them." "Of course. If that's what you want. After all, that's one of the reasons it's totally reversible." replied Dr. Sinclair. "The only requirement is you must remain a centaur for at least one week. The procedure is very costly - that is, it's physically costly for you. In monetary terms, the procedure is costs less than a package of condoms. But it is too dangerous, potentially even fatal, for any one person to be subjected to it twice in less then a week." "Well ..." Jerry answered slowly. His thoughts returned to the pleasures he'd likely have as one of those big centaur stallions. "Okay, Bob. I'll give it a try." Unnoticed by either Bob or Jerry, the male centaur Jerry had thought smiled at him earlier, smiled at him once more. And then he turned and vanished into the woods. "Excellent, Jerry. Vincent was certain that you would." said Bob. "Now we'll just go back to my office so you can read and sign our standard contract. Then we'll be all set." "What standard contract?" "Oh. Its not really all that much, Jerry. It is just your basic everyday 'cover ours and your collective asses' legalese as required by our legal department. Essentially, it covers the conditions of your transformation into a centaur and back again, as necessary. It also enables us to set up the necessary legal environment along with whatever mechanisms are required for us to legally assume all of your current debts and obligations for as long as you remain here. All you need do is read through the contract and then sign or initial it where indicated, but _only_ if you agree to all the legalese." Their standard contract made _War_and_Peace_ look like a short story - a really short, short story. It included so much fine print in it, that Jerry's eyes soon hurt from the strain of trying to read it all. Finally after having failed to find anything unusual or even remotely suspicious or out of the ordinary in the mammoth document, Jerry grew weary of all the legalese. Skipping over the final ten pages, not even bothering to glance at their content, Jerry signed the contract. "Excellent, Jerry." said Bob, as Jerry returned the signed document to him. "Are you ready to begin?" "What? Right now?" asked Jerry. "Of course, right now. Why not?" answered Bob. "There's no time like the present. We just need a small blood sample from you, in case we need to reverse the procedure, then we'll be all set. The sooner you're transformed, the sooner Phyllis will be receiving her child support payment from _us_." "In that case, then I guess, I'm ready." responded Jerry. "It's like you said, 'why not?'" Before leaving Bob's office, a woman dressed in white that Jerry assumed was a nurse entered, swabbed his arm, stuck a needle in it, drew out a syringe full of his blood, and left without saying a word. What horrible bedside manner, thought Jerry. The two men took an elevator down to the ground floor. Although it was the first elevator Jerry had seen in the entire complex, he knew there must be others. How else could all of those centaurs be up on the third floor? As large as they were, there was no way any of them could have ever have fit into or passed through any of the stairwells he'd been in. As he had previously done several times this day, Bob led Jerry to a door. After it was opened it, the two of them entered together. It was a dimly lit room, which, given its location on the windowless first floor, came as no surprise to Jerry. A very thick curtain draped the entire wall opposite the door they had just entered. Drawn on the floor were three thick chalk-formed circles, one no more than a quarter the size of the other two. Inscribed, also by thick chalk lines, within all three circles were pentagrams. And at the points of each of them stood unlit candles. "Take off all your clothes, Jerry." said Bob. Then he pointed toward the smallest circle. "Once you've stripped down, then go stand in that circle. Make certain you don't touch any of the lines and, whatever you do, don't break or attempt to cross the lines of the circle once you've stepped inside." As he was undressing, Jerry watched an ancient man with a long white beard, wearing a long flowing robe, enter the room. Following closely behind him were two younger men, both dressed in blue jeans and T-shirts, leading a fine looking golden palomino into the room. As the two men positioned the horse into the closer of the two larger circles, Jerry took his place in the small circle as he'd been instructed. Then the two men, one at each occupied circle, carefully lit the candles at the points of the encircled pentagrams where Jerry and the palomino stood. As the last candle was lit, the old man in the robe began chanting. Jerry didn't understand a single word of the language the old man used. But shortly after he began, odd and very peculiar sensations of movement began coursing through his body. He knew he hadn't moved and yet, even though his mind agreed with him, his senses told him otherwise. Impossibly, he and the palomino appeared to be getting nearer and nearer to one another with each syllable the old man chanted. Suddenly, Jerry was incapable of conscious bodily movement. From the corner of his eye, he was still able to see the horse as it seemingly, and still quite impossibly, continued to draw ever nearer. The odd sensations of motion continued unabated and were soon well past Jerry's ability to believe what he saw happening, until finally, he could swear he was sitting astride the palomino's neck. Numbness quickly spread across his legs. To Jerry's mind, it felt like his legs had been separated from his body. Looking down, he watched his legs melt into the body of the horse. Feeling a sudden irresistible desire to stretch his arms, he watched awestruck afterwards while the palomino's head turned wispy and slowly faded from his sight. Thankfully, his previously lost feelings slowly began returning to his legs. But as those returning feelings continued to strengthen, he realized his legs felt different now. Flowing through them was a raw power, unlike anything he had ever felt before. And after moment of surprise, he now knew his legs were far superior to what they had been before. And no longer had he just two powerful appendages to rely on. Now, he had four. The old man ceased his chant. There was a deafening crash of thunder. And Jerry discovered he could move freely once again. In spite of all the motion he had sensed, he still found himself standing within a pentagram, but something strange and wonderful had happened to him. Jerry felt peculiar. Looking down at the candles, they appeared freshly lit at each point of the pentagram he occupied, when they should have been completely melted down. After a quick scan of the room, Jerry noticed he was now in the other larger circle. The circle where the golden palomino had stood was as vacant now as the small circle where Jerry had originally stood. At each of these newly vacated circles, only puddles of melted wax remained at the points of each inscribed pentagram. "What happened?" asked Jerry, looking down at Bob. At first, looking down at him was somewhat surprising, since as he recalled they had been nearly the same height. "As you contracted with us, Jerry, you have become a centaur." replied Bob. "To accomplish your transformation, we have employed recently rediscovered arcane knowledge, magic if you prefer, from sources predating even those of ancient Egypt. As a result of this magic, you and the palomino have been effectively merged into a single entity." As if on cue, the drapes covering the wall fell away revealing beneath them a giant mirror covering the wall. Jerry stared with amazement at his reflection in the mirror. In spite of now having the snowiest of white hair on his head, Jerry thought himself a magnificent specimen. He had no doubts that any filly would absolutely adore and desire him from the moment she first laid eyes on him. "It will take several additional hours for your formerly two bodies to totally acclimate to one another, but as they continue to adjust, there will likely be additional physical changes and with them, you may also experience some pain. "However, once this period of adjustment ends, your two bodies will be completely in harmony with your new form. At that time, you will be the single entity created by the merging of you and the palomino. There may also be a short period of mental give and take between your two minds. But don't let that bother you, as some of your combined bodily functionalities will be best handled by the mind with the most experience dealing with them. "The important thing to remember is at the end of this adjustment period, you will be as totally and completely a centaur as if you'd actually been born one. Once that happens, you will have the ability of doing anything a centaur does in any way a centaur does it. And also at that time, a genetic scan of you would fail to reveal the presence, or the slightest trace, of human DNA. "However, during this transition time, we have found it best for all concerned to leave you alone. Even though you will be by alone in this room, either I or one of my assistants will be constantly monitoring your transition from outside through to its conclusion. I will return to speak with you further at the time your transition period has completed." Dr. Sinclair exited the room, leaving Jerry all alone. Jerry didn't like being left alone - he never had. No one had said anything about being left alone. It was a small room, which Jerry could almost swear was shrinking. And other than the large mirror covering the wall, it was more or less empty. Feeling bored and restless, he started wandering aimlessly around the room. After several minutes, he strolled up to the mirror to gaze once more at his new self. Surprise filled his eyes as, looking at his face, he thought it appeared somewhat different then he remembered. It not only seemed to be smoother, Jerry thought it might possibly be softer. He wished he'd paid more attention to the faces of the centaurs he'd seen earlier. Maybe this look was normal for them, he thought. But his unusual appearance might also be related to the strange lighting in this weird room. Lightly running his fingers across his face, he discovered it was not only smoother and softer, there was also no trace of beard stubble, which might, except he'd seen _no_ bearded centaurs, have disturbed him more than it now did. And with no compelling evidence one way or the other, Jerry simply assumed beardlessness just another common centaur trait he'd have to become accustomed to living with. But on the other hand, having no facial would not bother Jerry. He had always considered shaving his face every morning a pain. He would consider never having to shave again a blessing. As time continued to slowly pass, Jerry became more impatient and increasingly frustrated being in this strange room alone. He wanted to scream out for the world, and his observers, to hear just how much he hated being alone. He wanted - no, he needed - someone to talk to. He feared for his sanity, but as frustrated with his situation as he was, he could little else but slowly and nervously pace back and forth between the locked door and the mirror. All of a sudden, he felt something crawling down his neck. And then, whatever it was quickly crawled down his backside before it eventually stopped. Jerry assumed it must be an insect of some kind that had somehow invaded his solitary confinement. Wondering if it might be dangerous, he cautiously reached back to brush whatever it was away from his back. He was surprised at pulling back a handful of long white hair. Tugging on it gently, Jerry discovered that this incredibly long and luxurious hair was now impossibly his own. Quickly Jerry returned to the mirror. "What the hell is going on." he muttered in disbelief. His once short hair had inexplicably grown out exceptionally long. It cascaded over his shoulders, flowed down his back, and covered where his human torso merged into his equine body. His newly lengthened hair was still the same snowy white color as his tail, but there was something - just what he couldn't decide - bothering Jerry about this new development. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was obviously overlooking something more important then worrying about his hair being long and platinum blonde. "I wish I knew why my hair suddenly grew out so long. It's easily the same length as those fillies upstairs." he muttered. "It's a good thing I don't have breasts like them. Otherwise, I'd look a lot more like one of them, then would make me comfortable. Of course, next to even the most homely of them, I'd still look butt ugly by comparison." Once again, Jerry ran a hand slowly across his face. Had it become even softer and smoother in the last few minutes? Or was it just his imagination playing tricks on him? At least, he still looked like himself in spite of his mass of flowing long white hair. Without any warning, incredible pain surged across his face. As he brought his hands up and buried his face in them, he could actually feel the muscles of his face alternately stiffen and relax as they rearranged themselves and assumed different shapes. Then once more, his muscles tensed, but this time accompanied by the sounds of the bones of his face snapping like twigs. Jerry shivered uncontrollably as each broken piece, not unlike those of a jigsaw puzzle, shifted into a new position before miraculously beginning their swift mending into a whole again. Dr. Sinclair had told Jerry there might be some pain associated with any further changes he might experience. But he had been wrong, there wasn't _some_ pain, there was a hell of a lot of pain involved. And at times, it had been exceedingly excruciating. All of sudden, the pain intensified. As Jerry's knees buckled, he screamed out in utter agony. But his screams, starting out deep and low, quickly spiraled upwards in both pitch and tone. And then, as abruptly as it began, the pain subsided and was gone. "What the hell ..." he started before grabbing at his throat startled by the breathy feminine soprano voice coming from it. Another surprise awaited him when he returned to the mirror. "Holy fucking shit!" he heard his new soprano voice swear. From all the pain he'd just endured and having heard his bones break, Jerry had expected to see his face bloodied and swollen, as if he'd been mugged and beaten in some back alley fight. But that was not the sight greeting him in the mirror. The face reflected from it was no longer his. Nor did it bear even the remotest resemblance to his. Instead seeing _his_ marred and bloodied face, as he'd expected, the face looking back from the mirror was one of a beautiful young woman, who showed no traces whatever of any of the tortures he'd just been through. "What are they doing to me?" he frightfully muttered still surprised at hearing feminine sounds come from his mouth. A dull ache began near the bottom of his ribcage. Fortunately, it was nothing like the agonizing pain he'd endured moments earlier as his face had been restructured. As he watched awestruck, in the mirror his waist narrowed slightly, taking on those same decidedly feminine centaur contours he'd earlier admired in all the fillies upstairs. Unwilling to speak, for fear of hearing his altered voice, Jerry thought, if it were not for my flat chest, then no one, not even the centaurs themselves, would be able to distinguish me from one of their own fillies. "Oh, no. They wouldn't do that to me, would they? This kind of shit just can't be possible." he whispered, finally realizing what was happening to him. The clue to what he was becoming had been clearly laid out in front of him from the start. He had just failed to recognize it for what it was. "They're transforming me into a centaur alright - but not the stallion I anticipated. Instead, I'm being changed into a centaur filly." Within moments of that realization, Jerry began feeling an odd set of prickling sensations centering on his nipples and radiating quickly outwards from them in nearly circular patterns across his chest. Unable to draw himself away from his altering reflection, he watched his nipples enlarge to form small nubs. As the prickly feelings continued to intensify, Jerry was becoming rapidly and uncontrollably aroused by feelings he'd never experienced before. At the same time, still unable to take his eyes away from the mirror, he stared with both wonder and horror as the breasts of his reflection expanded in a manner reminiscent of balloons being inflated at the local carnival. Gazing upon his reflection, Jerry realized that if he now stood beside any of the fillies he'd seen earlier, no one, not even one of the few centaur males he'd seen, would be able to differentiate him from her. For all intents and purposes, Jerry was like all the others now. He had become just another overly-endowed centaur filly with long hair and firm, full breasts. Although his arousal had lessened somewhat, Jerry, his mind unable to think of a better term, still felt quite horny. Unconsciously he reached up to touch one of his newly blossomed breasts. He was amazed by its increased sensitivity, his simple touch sending shivers of sheer pleasure rippling through him. As he moved, he became aware of the newly increased musculature connecting his human and equine halves. Instinctively, he knew it was required as support for his newly ponderous breasts. Absently, he rubbed a hand across one of them. He couldn't believe how good such a simple act had felt. Nor could he believe how good it made _him_ feel. He moaned softly, unaware a visitor had entered the room. "Congratulations, Jerry." said Dr. Sinclair. "Your transition period appears to have more than satisfactorily completed. And in a considerably shorter time frame than we had anticipated." Startled at hearing the doctor's voice, Jerry spun about to face him. "What the hell did you do to me?" he asked angrily. But to his consternation, he didn't think his new female voice conveyed the necessary tone to adequately express his anger. "_We_ did just what we talked about, Jerry." replied Bob. "Exactly as was specified in the contract _you_ signed, we have transformed you into a centaur. I must say _we_ are very pleased with the final result. The improvements in the spell we invoked, fusing you and the palomino mare, worked even better than we'd expected. As I said, we had actually anticipated a much longer adaptation period, as much as several more hours, being required. But it appears the spell allowed the mare's genotypic femaleness override your own maleness even faster than we calculated it would. As a result, your newly expressed phenotype, as we planned and expected, now reflects your combined _single_ genotype of a female centaur. It is really very amazing what we've done here today, Jerry. You should be very pleased by your participation today. Do you realize that each time we transform someone, we learn something that helps improve the proficiency of our procedures." "What the hell are you talking about?" asked Jerry angrily. "We never once discussed transforming me into a female." "Jerry... Jerry... Jerry..." stated Bob. "It was in the contract you signed. I did tell you to read the whole contract before signing it. _Didn't I_? Now, are you trying to tell me you _didn't_ read the entire contract before you signed it?" Bob shook his head. "It is clearly stated in the fourth paragraph of the third from the last page that the party of the first part - that's you, Jerry - gets the choice of becoming any mythological species while the party of the second part - that's us, ReGenesis, Inc. - reserves the choice of gender as a means to guarantee the continued proper population balance of the species selected by the party of the first part. It's a very simple paragraph, Jerry, but it is perfectly legal and also completely binding." "But why me? And why a female? The centaur area already appeared to have a higher than necessary female-to-male ratio from what I could see earlier." "Again the answers are very simple, Jerry. Why 'you' is simply because you're here." replied the doctor. "And female? We already have three stallions in the centaur holding area. Believe it or not, that's actually more than we need at the moment. What we really need to increase in that area are the number of females - we really need a lot more of them. "Would you believe that most women who come here are generally more interested in helping us return vanished species to the wild? And any women who even consider becoming mythological creatures take one look at what goes on in the centaur area and generally balk at being transformed into one. I hear many of them muttering of political incorrectness, as if it mattered to a centaur. They leave here thinking they'd be better off remaining where and who they are. None of them can ever picture themselves becoming fillies. "On the other hand, men who come here almost never balk at being transformed into centaurs. They take one look at the herd, see the fillies greatly outnumbering the males, and leap to the totally false conclusion they'll become powerful centaur stallions when they're transformed. Isn't that about right, Jerry. I'm sure even you would have to admit that is an incredibly poor conclusion to make of a herd species which has adopted an extreme harem mentality. But I'm quite certain you'll be relieved to know that our altered males actually tend to adjust very nicely to harem life." "What makes you think I'm gonna adjust to this!" exclaimed Jerry. "I've never wanted to be a female before. And I sure as hell don't want to be one now. What you've done to me just isn't natural." "Oh, please. Why don't you grow up and look in the mirror, Jerry." replied Bob caustically. "From where I sit, you look perfectly natural _and_ normal to me. But I must admit to being somewhat surprised you don't feel more natural in your new form." "There's no fucking way I can feel normal _or_ natural like this. I don't want to be female." insisted Jerry. "What did you mean when you said you were surprised I didn't feel more natural like this?" "Before I answer your question, let me ask you one first." said Bob. "Tell me, Jerry. What did you think of our receptionist Margie? Tell me truthfully, did you like _her_?" "Of course, I liked her." answered Jerry. "What could anyone not like about a beautiful young woman like Margie?" Dr. Sinclair smiled knowingly. "Of course, you liked her. In fact, I'd be very surprised if you didn't have fantasies of being with her constantly or professing your undying love for her. That is, after all, one of her many talents." said Bob with a grin. "Would it bother you at all, if I told you she wanted to sleep with you, Jerry? She really wanted you badly, Jerry. Can you imagine how terribly disappointed she was at finding out you'd agreed to a transformation before she'd had the chance to impress you with her wares." Jerry blushed. "I can still have that chance, Bob. Only you'll have to reverse this procedure of yours and change me back first. Margie and I can still have what each of us wants from the other." Bob grinned at him again. "You know Jerry, I can tell you're still very interested in Margie, as if you actually had any choice in the matter. _She_ wanted you, Jerry, and as a result of her needs you _had_ to want her back. But now that you're also female, she won't have any interest in you. "I wonder what you would have thought of Mark, the young man Margie had been before _his_ metamorphosis into our mermaid receptionist. He was actually a lot like you, Jerry. He swore he'd never adjust to being female, but, as I've already told you, Margie wanted you in every way a woman like her wants a man. "Although it's not possible, it would be very interesting to know what Mark thinks of _you_ desiring his female form as badly as _his_ female form wants you. "Actually, Margie adjusted to her new gender very quickly. And it continues to surprise me that there have apparently been no adjustments to your mental state allowing you totally accept yourself as you are now are. Perhaps there was a flaw in the spell. But, no matter, in the end, you shouldn't be any different than Margie." "But you have to change me back, if I want. That was also in the contract." Jerry was certain he had the loophole he needed. "If I remember correctly it read, 'If the party of the first party,' that's me, 'is not completely satisfied with the result of the transformation duly agreed upon in part one of this document, then the party of the second part,' that's you, 'must restore the party of the first part to said party's original form.' And, you know something, Bob," Jerry smiled, "I sure as hell ain't satisfied with the result of my transformation." Dr. Sinclair, obviously unhappy with Jerry's argument, quickly countered. "The contract also requires us to wait at least a week before subjecting the subject, in this case you, to the reverse transformation. Otherwise, you might end up as nothing more than twin piles of organic glop. The required waiting period, which we, most unfortunately, discovered the hard way, is _very_ real, Jerry. But in the coming week, you'll have a chance to change your mind." "I don't think so, Bob." replied Jerry with a shake of his head. "From my viewpoint, my adjustment period is over and done with. I'm never going to change my mind." He casually brushed his hair away from his eyes. "And I'm not going to stand for being one of these harem-living fillies _you_ decided I should be. Of course, I might possibly be persuaded to reconsider, if you could reform this body into one of a stallion instead." "But I already told you, Jerry, the project already has more centaur stallions than it needs. Perhaps you might agree to join some other mythological species - as a male, of course. "That's really tough, Bob. But the deal was to be transformed into a centaur." Jerry suddenly wondered why he was being to hardnosed about this, when another species might actually work out better for him. "You either restore me as I was before and I walk away, or you transform me into a stallion and I stay put for a while. The choice is yours." "I'll have to discuss this with the entire board of directors." replied Dr. Sinclair with exasperation. "This might be my project, but I can't promise you anything until after I've spoken with them. It's not likely I'll be able to contact all of them and have an answer for you before mid-morning tomorrow. That shouldn't cause you any problems, since there is nothing that can be done about it for at least another week, unless you _really_ insist on becoming a puddle of glop. But we must insist you stay in this room until the board reaches its final decision. Unless, of course, you change your mind and decide to join the herd as you are." Jerry laughed. "That's not going to happen, doctor. I'll wait here for your decision." he told Bob with a big smile. "Oh, one other thing, Bob. Please don't slam the door on your way out." But Jerry's gaiety faded shortly after the doctor left the premises. "What an officious asshole." fumed Jerry as he once again began his pacing back and forth. As he reached the door, he tried to open it, but, as he'd expected, it was locked. "I can't believe I'm have to stay _this_ way for the next week." he said to his reflection as he swept his white hair away from his brow. He stared at himself appreciatively in the mirror. "You know, it's really too bad you aren't here _with_ me instead of _being_ me, babe." Suddenly, Jerry thought he heard a noise coming from the shadows across the room. "Who's there?" he asked nervously. There was no answer, but Jerry began to hear someone, or something, breathing heavily. "Alright asshole. You can't deny you're out there, whoever you are. I can hear you breathing." he said more calmly then he felt. "Who the fuck's out there?" he nervously asked again. "Me." came the simple gruff reply. "Who is 'me' and what is it you want?" he asked nervously and slightly frightened. "You have no need to be frightened of me, filly." replied the same gruff voice. "I am Tark. Your friend." "If you're my friend, then why do you hide from me and speak only from the shadows?" asked the frightened Jerry. "Come out of the shadows where I can see you." Almost immediately a large male centaur, the one Jerry remembered "smiling" at him earlier while observing the "centaur area," stepped out from the darkness. "Is this better for you, filly?" asked Tark. Jerry stared at the huge stallion. "How did you get in here?" he asked nervously. "There is only one door into and out of this room and its locked. I know, I tried it after Dr. Sinclair left. They won't let me out of here. And I'd be surprised if they let _you_ in." "We have our own ways of visiting any place within this complex, filly." replied Tark with the same smile Jerry had seen from him before. "But they are not important to _you_. You need only know that we always visit those who the humans have metamorphosed into our form before they bring the transformed ones to us. The overly confident humans never detect our visits." "We?" inquired Jerry curiously. "Weren't you human once?" "We is me, Brak, and Styx. We are the three stallions of the herd from the many steps above." he answered. "We may have been human once, but there are no things human of relevance or importance to us any longer." "Why are you here?" asked Jerry. "I have come to visit with you, filly. According to the covenant established and agreed upon in times long past by myself and Brak and Styx, this is my time of _First_Visit_ to the changed. I am most pleased that my time of First Visit coincides with _your_ arrival. You are most beautiful, filly. Much moreso now, than when you first observed the herd before your transformation, Jerry Phelder." Jerry blushed, unfamiliar with how to accept a unwanted compliment from a male. But then it struck him that Tark had called him by name - his human name - something he couldn't have known. "How did you know my name Tark?" he asked. "And how did you know I'd observed you earlier?" Tark smiled again. "We know much of those who come to this place, filly." he replied. "We have _our_ ways, which are of _no_ interest to fillies. As to knowing you were in the observation area earlier, did you not see me smile at you as you stood there with Dr. Sinclair?" "How?" asked Jerry with evident surprise. "Sinclair said it was one-way glass. You shouldn't have been able to see me." "He was correct, filly. The glass _is_ one-way, for humans, that is." replied Tark smugly. "But we are centaurs, not humans. And the glass for us is two-way, although we find it preferable to allow the humans to think the limitations of their sight also limit ours. I smiled at your human form then, because I knew how beautiful you would become once you'd undergone transformation, filly." Tark gazed with obvious intent and appreciation at Jerry's female form. "Go ahead and look all you want, buster." he snapped at Tark. "Just don't go getting any ideas, because I'm not staying around this place or in _this_ form very long." "But seven days is a long time, filly." replied Tark with a knowing smile. "Many wondrous things have been known to happen in far less a period of time." "The only way I'm staying here past those seven days, Tark, is as a stallion, just like you." "That will _never_ happen, filly." stated Tark emphatically. "A new stallion is _not_ required by the herd at this time." "Is that so?" grinned Jerry. "I'm sure Jerry's Board of Directors is probably discussing that very matter right now." "That is true. We know humans upstairs talk now of that which you have demanded from them." replied Tark. "But still, what _you_ want will never come to pass, filly. The humans are sore afraid that you and your demands might spoil their great experiment. Keeping that always in mind, they will all eventually decide to acquiesce and, as you have expressed your preference, transform you into an unnecessary stallion of our herd." "See. I told you." gloated Jerry. "They had no other choice." "You're are correct in that assessment, filly. The humans have no other choice." smiled Tark. "We knew before they met that must be their final decision. But _we_ have made another choice, filly. We do not want, nor do we need, another stallion in our herd at this time. We _need_ more fillies. Our harems are far too small for our liking now and introducing another stallion would only serve to make them smaller still. With the slowness these humans act to increase the size of our harems, we will have no need of another stallion for many years yet to come. The humans know that to be true." "Then they can exercise their other choice." replied Jerry. "I guess they'll just have to change me back and then I'll be outta here." "I do not think so, filly." replied Tark. "They told you what I have told you. And still you demanded to be reformed as a new and unneeded stallion. Besides, it would be a great shame and such a waste if the herd were to lose a filly as beautiful as you. Do you not agree with me, filly?" Jerry's face reddened again. And he began worrying what Tark had on his mind. "Come here to me, filly." ordered Tark in an imperious tone. "No fucking way." Jerry replied, refusing to either look at him or approach any nearer to Tark. In response, Tark approached him. "You have great spirit, filly. That attribute shall be good for the herd." Gently Tark ran his fingers along Jerry's long white hair. "Are you aware that you have the softest and silkiest hair I have ever touched, filly?" "What are you trying to do?" asked Jerry. "I am trying 'to do' nothing, filly." replied Tark calmly. "I want only to compliment you on your beauty. Is it my fault, I find you so irresistibly attractive? But if you doubt me, then seek the truth from my eyes, filly." "Oh, no, you don't." said Jerry. "I'm not falling for that old ploy. I don't want to look into your eyes. And nothing you can do will make me." Tark smiled. "Perhaps." His hand casually slipped away from Jerry's hair. As his hand swiftly located what it sought out, Tark eagerly began soft and gentle caressings of Jerry's ample breasts. "Look into my eyes, filly." he repeated. "I won't look ... You can't make ..." moaned Jerry. But he was as aroused by Tark's simple touch as he had been by his own touch earlier. But his were somehow different. And soon, under Tark's continuous sensual ministrations, Jerry's inflamed passions made him fearful of losing himself within them. "Look into my eyes, most beautiful of fillies." He called me beautiful, thought Jerry, as the raging female hormones careening wildly through his body evoked overwhelming feelings and passions that eagerly betrayed the wants of his male mind. As Tark's light caresses continued, what little now remained of Jerry's will melted away. Entranced, he turned to Tark and gazed into his eyes. "Look deeper, filly." he told Jerry. And Jerry obediently did so. "And now look still deeper." And as he did, Jerry's eyes glazed over. "This is most excellent, filly. Now listen closely to the truth of who now stands here before me. "Who you think you are is the one you no longer are. The you who is now you is now the only you that is. "Who you thought you were is the one you no longer were. The you who was now you was then the only you that was. "Who you would think you would be is the one you will no longer be. The you who now will be you will be the only you that will be. "Now close your eyes, filly." Jerry's glazed eyes quickly and obediently closed. "Your name from the before is unimportant to you and best forgotten. Chiara is she who is now the only you that is. Chiara was she who is now the only you that was. Chiara will be she who is now the only you that will be. "And now is the time for sleep, Chiara. Sleep until just before the humans come in the morning. When you wake, you will be you and no other. You will, for a short time, possess certain memories of who you had been, but they will be as if you were told them and _not_ as if you lived them. You will tell the humans of _your_ desire to rejoin _your_ own kind." Tark turned away slowly, beginning to walk back into the shadows. He stopped and looked back at the sleeping centaur filly. He had always known she would make an excellent addition both to the herd and to _his_ harem. "When you join us, Chiara, I will exercise my right of _First_Claim_, which is mine by the right of this First Visit. Tomorrow, when the humans bring you to us, you will join with our herd, and thereafter be of my harem. And when the night falls, we will each come to know the other better. "This will make the humans happy, because they will falsely believe their spell has finally altered your thoughts to match those they wished you to have. In addition, they will be happy because you will have accepted this form they made of you. And you will not disrupt their experiment by becoming an unnecessary stallion. "I will also be happy, Chiara. I am most certain that Brak and Styx will be most envious with the most beautiful filly ever brought into our world being of my harem. "And you will also be happy, my beautiful Chiara. You will be you. You will be as you were meant to be. And in the morning following our _First_Night_, you will be carrying our foal." Tark turned back toward the shadows. And as he entered them, he left the room in the same mysterious fashion as he had arrived. He could wait for Chiara until tomorrow, but the wait would now seem interminably long. As Chiara began stirring the following morning, she was startled as the roomlights suddenly came up to full intensity. Obviously, a motion detector of some sort controlled the lights, she decided, not exactly certain she knew what a motion detector was. As she looked around the newly lit and barren room, she realized she was all alone. "How strange." she whispered. "I could have sworn Tark was here with me last night, but it must have been only a dream. How could he have been here? There is only one door into this room and I know the human doctor locked it when he left me here because I tried to open it." Chiara posed before the mirror. "The dream Tark told me I was beautiful." She smiled at that thought. All the other fillies of the herd, who had always thought her pretty, would be very jealous of her if they thought Tark considered her beautiful. "I wonder if the real Tark also thinks me beautiful." Her face reddened slightly making her glad no one else was present. "It is nearly my time to take a mate and I would really like that mate to be Tark." "Good morning, Mr. Phelder." came a voice from behind her. Mister Phelder, she thought? But then she remembered being told the humans, for some strange reason only they knew, actually thought she was one of them, a _male_ named Jerry Phelder. She had heard many things about this person during her stay, but how could they believe _she_ was _him_? How totally absurd these humans can be sometimes, she thought. But at that moment, she didn't know if it upset her more to be thought a human or to be thought a _male_. Neither was a pleasant thought for the young filly. She wondered if there might be something seriously wrong with their eyesight. Anyone, human or otherwise, who could look at _her_ and even think she might be male was either blind or in desperate need of immediate psychological counseling. "Did you sleep well, Mr. Phelder?" "Quite well. Thank you, Dr. Sinclair." she replied as the human's name suddenly popped into her head. "I have some good news for you." "Good news?" asked Chiara. "You've decided to let me go home?" Dr. Sinclair looked puzzled. "Home?" he questioned. "I thought we'd agreed you'd stay here until I could convince the board to accede to your desire to be remade a stallion." "What?" gasped Chiara in surprise. "_I_ do _not_ want to be a stallion." she exclaimed firmly. "I just want to go home again." The doctor looked at her even more puzzled then before. "But yesterday you all but demanded we either restore you to your human form or transform you into a stallion. Very early this morning, the board decided, and voted accordingly, that it would be in the best interests of the project if we allowed you to become a stallion." "Don't _I_ even get a say in this?" asked Chiara angrily. "I hate to be disagreeable about this, doctor, but I really don't want to be a stallion. In fact, Dr. Sinclair, I have never, ever wanted to be a stallion in my entire life. All I want to do is go home and resume _my_ normal life." "Oh shit." swore the doctor angrily. "You realize this will require another board meeting and another vote. Don't you Jerry? And very likely, at least another three or four days of haggling. Many of the board members weren't all that pleased with your demands last night. And when I tell them you've changed your mind, they're really going to be pissed at you for reneging on our previous deal." C