Changes in the wind

by Bud Boytaurbody

The winds of change transform Billy into a barefoot centaur with limb-sprouting housemates.

1,194 words Added Jan 2006 10k views 4.5 stars (2 votes)

You may be looking for the following similarly named story: The Change by Richard Jasper.

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Note: Inspired by “One of those mornings” at Aayrick's Site of a guy waking up as he is turning into a centaur.

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We'd been warned to sleep nude that night, because of the changes in the wind that would sometimes come betwixt the seasons. And for all of us, it felt really good to sleep nude, because with the warm weather, the slightest breeze through a window was refreshing.

I'm not sure if it was alpha centaurus rising that affected us, but we liked the effects, because they felt so good and we felt so strong. It felt too good to wear clothes anymore like this.

Billy was still more than half asleep as he dimly sensed a weighted feeling in his lower body as he lay in bed on his stomach, his naked back slightly warming under the early rays of the morning sun, streaming in the window by his bed.

He felt himself seeming to slide as the lower end of his bed audibly creaked. He felt his waist slowly being dragged off the bed and with a loud kerthump felt the lower part of himself clumsily thudding heavily on the floor.

Still not fully awake, he felt most uncomfortable, and twisting to look at the lower part of himself, realized that his lower body was that of a horse, a rather handsome stallion horse body. It took some doing to figure out how to raise himself up and get his four hooves under him, but his arms were helpful. His main thought was to pee, as it always was when he first stood up in the morning.

Clumpeta clumpeta clumpeta. Annoyed at the noise of the four hooves on the floor, he wished he had his feet instead. With a comfortable sensation in his four horse legs, his four hooves obliged, changing back into his regular guy-feet, albeit four of them.

Still groggy and not fully awake, he stumbled his huge, beautiful new centaur form on its four large male feet from the wood floor of his bedroom to the cold tile of the bathroom. How odd to feel cold bathroom floor tile through four feet!

It was normal enough to bend way down to lift the potty seat and to aim carefully as he whizzed, trying to aim his newly giant-sized penis to direct its copious stream into the bowl way down there from his new centaur height, but it dawned on him as he stood in front of the potty whizzing that he had to whiz from another giant-sized penis between his hind legs, too, and badly.

In the garage, the guys were working out naked on the universal machine and with some of the free weights. They discovered that when they did leg extensions, their legs actually grew longer, and their feet grew bigger. Doing squats seemed to grow muscle with each repetition, and on the second set, usually about the fourth rep, you'd rise back up from your squat on four legs, all as nicely muscled as your original two.

But Jason hadn't done any squats yet, and he was surprised when I mentioned his four legs (actually, I'd complimented him on them because they looked really good on him).

He hadn't been aware he'd become four-legged.

He smiled at me, shrugging his shoulders. He noticed he had four of them.

“Guess that means we all get more legs.” He realized he had extra pairs of hands and arms now. “And more arms. Um, six, I guess.” Because some of the guys had four. Cool differences, really; everyone looked great and felt great.

Jones was yawning at the breakfast table over his cereal and lost in his headphones. He needed a shave. I noticed three or four chairs moving themselves away from the table, pushed by a plethora of his feet, some of them comfortably resting on each others' ankles. It sounds so numerical to say six or eight, because that's not how it struck me. It just looked cool to see him with so many nice feet. Only one moved with the invisible rhythm in the headphones, but its movement would get some of its brother feet in rhythm for a little while. He didn't look uncomfortable; in fact he looked quite comfortable with his hind pairs of legs splayed from a couple pulled-together chairs alongside his own chair. We should get a bench, I thought.

The boys were coming in for a snack, their hugely muscled bodies nakedly bumping along together as they came from the garage pretty well pumped up, unconsciously feeling their biceps and forearms, their back arms feeling their front arms. Sean's lithe hands were drumming lightly on his ripped abs, his second pair of hands absently feeling his nicely developed pecs, smoothing themselves over his pecs and his shoulders and back while that handsome first pair of hands keps patting in light rhythm on the skin of his tanned stomach muscles.

“If you give them a couple hard shakes, you get four of them,” Mark said, showing Don his four hands. Don tried it, and he grew four hands, too.

“You can't take them off, can you?” Don said.

“You could,” Mark said, his front hands clasping his rear arms by the wrist and pulling smartly; the arms came off and he swung them forward, cradling them in his muscular arms. The hands on the arms relaxed languidly on their strong wrists. They were beautiful. “Cool,” said Don.

“You think that's cool, try this,” Mark said. “Stand behind me and put my arms back on, and then pound me on the back and say, 'pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!” as loud as you can as you pound me.” Everyone in the room was watching, all muscles, all extra arms and all extra legs still for the moment as all eyes fell on Dan and Mark.

Don looked doubtful, but he took the heavily-muscled pair of arms Mark handed him and got around behind Mark, and replaced the arms at the shoulders. With an eyebrow raised in disbelief but doing it anyway, he pounded Mark's muscular back hard, shouting, “Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!”

Six more huge arms shot out of Mark's sides with each pop, falling heavily into a forest of muscle at his sides as his massive multiple shoulders sagged under their new load. “AAggghhhhh!!” said Mark, flushed. “That felt good!”

We were boned at that, and Mark was ravenous suddenly. We realized we all were.

We all had a second breakfast, and they had to send Jason out (clothed) on Billy to get more orange juice. We laughed watching Jason galloping hi-yah across the lawn and down the street on Billy's four big feet, Billy's big centaur dicks swinging wildly.

“He's going to wish he'd kept his hooves,” Jones laughed.

1,194 words Added Jan 2006 10k views 4.5 stars (2 votes)

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