Is Worth Two In The Bush

Story by Sovandar on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , ,

... Is Worth Two In The Bush


... Is Worth Two In The Bush By Sovandar

This story was written as a little Christmas gift for the greatest lizardhawk I know, the most excellent iconDelta9:! It is, "sadly", only a short piece of near-pure smut, but hey - it's Christmas, enjoy!

Warning, this story contains scenes of M/M sex and bird transformation! If you're underage or don't like that, then... why are you reading this?!

You should also (if you enjoy this) check out the accompanying picture sequence, starting with http://www.furaffinity.net/view/7096008!

No resemblances are intended, no humans were harmed (much) in the making of this story, and no copying or reposting without permission lest the great deity Copyrictus strike thee verily down!

* * *

Richard gasped, his hand rubbing furiously at his shaft, closing his eyes and imagining the ideal girl; his own Christmas gift to himself.

She was half-woman, half-red-tailed-hawk. He expressed revulsion of everything so inhuman, for such things were commonplace; but even as he had said the words to him she'd laughed, seen right through him, known his darkest and most intimate desires.

He'd been humiliated, tongue-tied, and hopelessly infatuated; he imagined her leading him, fresh from that meeting, to a private woodland grove. His mind's eye saw her throw off her skirt and exquisitely tailored dress, and bend over, raising her tail, wings held low to her back, as she knelt on the ground before him, flaunting her casual nudity. She looked over her shoulder, teased and urged him on, a coy and predatory glint in her eye. He could almost feel the soft down of her underbelly as he rubbed himself against her, lining up so...

A crow cawed loudly nearby, and in the sudden intrusion of reality, the mental image vanished like a morning fog, leaving him alone in the warm, woodland clearing.

He blushed, his hand slowly unclasping his male-flesh as he realised that, as the breeze had caught the pages of his magazine and as his uncoordinated movements had helped turn a few pages, he now held instead an artist's rendering of a bald eagle - a male, an aroused male.

He sighed; it was as if fate itself was taunting him now. There was only one such non-human being in the world... and it, too, was a man.

He'd had the potently sexual image of the red-tail girl in his head for weeks now; ever since he'd met Dr Jan Stephenson at a biochemistry conference. Richard was present only as a caterer, and had no understanding of the issues under discussion; but he knew about the keynote speaker. Everyone knew about him.

He'd been a medical nanotechnologist; the precise sequence of events wasn't known (publicly, anyway), but the most popular rumour said he had decided to mount a demonstration of the power and safety of his devices by transforming a common jay into a red-tailed hawk, and entirely different species. If his technology could do that, it could by definition perform basic repairs on human cells.

It had worked, but then had backfired spectacularly within 24 hours, when the scientist found that due to a slight error, his nanotech had affected him, too. He managed, thankfully, to shut the nanotech down before he too became only a simple bird, but he was permanently altered y the ordeal - at least, until he was confident enough to attempt a reversal. That, though, wasn't likely; his funding had been terminated for ethical violations, and he now carried on his research alone, in private, funded by selling his story to the newspapers.

Richard had spoken with him, briefly, but only to serve the inhuman man a cup of coffee, and be told - tersely - that he couldn't use a normal cup, as it wouldn't fit Jan's beak. He'd been embarrassed, but corrected the oversight, and shaken the rough, scaly talon during his apology.

He'd found the blend of human and avian physique to be curious, and surprisingly aesthetic... and before long, he found the thought of feathers invading his fantasies, too, the busty and submissive blondes he imagined, replaced by fearsome hawk-girls, their predatory power intoxicating and thrilling in a way he'd not know before.

But they didn't exist, and probably never would in his lifetime. So, he had to make do by surreptitiously buying dirty magazines from the internet, where a few select, anonymous artists catered for people who desired their partners to have avian qualities.

Trouble was, most seemed to be aimed at women; the majority seemed to picture male avians, and most magazines or similar collections including only a few females amidst a sea of male nudity.

At least, he hoped they were aimed at women. Not for the first time, he wondered for an instant if he might be bisexual, even gay without having realised it; it wasn't his ideal fantasy but it would at least be a potentially real one. What a Christmas gift - nay, miracle - that would be!

But, as before, the thought of any men, let alone himself, finding bird-men attractive quickly shrivelled his arousal, and he cursed, resignedly; he'd not gotten off in a great many days now, such unwelcome thoughts kept intruding, even when he was out here, alone, deep in the woodland well off the beaten trails. He often came here to relax; it seemed natural to let his walk take him just a bit further than usual, a bit deeper, and allow him a rare moment to 'relieve some stress' in a different way, alone with nature.

"So you like your men a bit feathery, eh?" came a voice from behind him, as powerful hands grasped his naked shoulders.

He froze, his heart practically stopping. Holy fuck! How could he have been so stupid and oblivious as to let someone walk up behind him?! It was bad enough that he was naked, let alone that he was somewhat aroused, had evidently just been jacking off, held a pornographic magazine in his hand, or that the magazine was, by rather bad luck, open on a page depicting an aroused male eagle.

The person had evidently seen it, and leapt to the immediate - and not entirely illogical - conclusion that Richard was both gay, and very into bird-men. What if the stranger was violent? Richard could get beaten up for this... or worse!

But as the shock abated, his mind started processing properly again. The hands felt wrong; rough, cool, and with such sharp nails. The clothes rubbing his naked back meant the stranger were far closer than most would care to get to a random naked guy in the woods. The clothes, for that matter, felt off, strangely featherlike...

And, he realised, he knew the voice.

"D...d...doctor S...S.." he began, stammering, unable to move with his shock.

There was a slightly warbling chuckle in response. "Yes, Doc Stephenson, the bird-man. Apparently some sort of wet dream come true for you..." he chuckled again, a faintly warning edge to his voice.

Richard blushed hotly, and suddenly felt very scared. Those sharp talons rested inches from his throat. "I...it's not what..."

He felt the hawkman's grip tighten, and the sharp points of his talons dug into soft flesh, drawing pinpricks of blood. Richard yelped in surprise and fear, and tried leaping to his feet. "Oh, fuck, please, it's not what it seems, it's all a coincidence, please don't hurt me..."

The talons held firm, scratching his skin further, and he trailed off, freezing to immobility. The hawk-man's powerful grip pulled him back a step. and he felt feathers press against his back.

"Now, now... don't try to get away, there's no need to be so scared or so hurried..."

He closed his eyes and prayed. Nobody would hear him if he yelled for help, he'd carefully brought himself so far away from everywhere. Who would have guessed it'd happen to be where the State's resident avian-morph liked to go a-wandering, or that their paths should cross?

But, for a single delicious moment, he imagined that his fantasy hawk-girl had him by the shoulders, not the real hawk-man, and he felt a surge of forbidden arousal shoot through him, his half-hard shaft resurging despite himself, She was pressing her feathers and breasts against his back, whispering sweet nothings and increasingly graphic innuendo in his ear...

"...it's a good picture." Stephenson said.

Richard blinked, surprised. Had the bird-man become telepathic somehow, too, and read his..?

...Oh.

He still held the bald eagle man's picture in his hand. Not the image in his head, obviously Stephenson didn't know...

Abruptly a pair of powerful arms encircled him, a strong talon gripping the hand with the magazine, holding it up so the picture was clear. Richard was uncomfortably aware of the hawkman's crotch pressing against his are skin in this new position. He tried stepping forward, away from the avian; but he just managed to make them both stagger forward a few paces.

"Hmm... ahh... yes..." Stephenson whispered, appreciatively.

Fuck! Did Stephenson find the bald eagle... attractive?

He guessed it shouldn't have been a shock that the transformed man found beings like that to be alluring, but it was. A split second later, the worse realisation hit him.

Stephenson was gay.

In the instant of frozen shock, one talon slid down his hip and curled lewdly around his manhood, still stubbornly at half-mast, and Richard gasped.

"Mmmm... you have good taste, my friend..." Stephenson cooed, grinding his hips into Richard's back. "What else do you have here..?" The talon, thankfully, left his maleness, but instead started flipping pages in the magazine.

Richard was even more mortified than moments before, as the feathered females he'd found so erotic flashed past in a disinterested flick from the birdman behind him, the pages lingering instead on the myriad males he'd thumbed past hurriedly only minutes before. He felt, with horrified realisation, something stirring against his back, a strange tube growing warmer, worming its way out of the downy feathers in the bird-man's crotch. The scientist's shaft, coming to life... evidently the man had also started this encounter in the nude.

Richard tried breaking away again, but he couldn't seem to think straight, let alone co-ordinate his movements properly. Nothing in this situation could be further from what he wanted or desired.

He succeeded only in forcing himself and his... unexpected partner a few more paces ahead, nearly stumbling as they approached the shade of the treeline.

"Mmmph... what's the rush?" chuckled the predator. "I'd have thought this'd be..." He ground his crotch and increasingly hard shaft against Richard's buttocks. "...just your thing!"

"N...no..." Richard gasped, heart pounding so hard he felt like he might explode with panic. "I'm n...not gay..."

Stephenson laughed harder, and to Richard's surprise a talon curled around the human shaft again... it felt harder than before, more aroused than he felt it should be. "No? You can't hide what you want..."

He ground his crotch against Richard again, the hard shaft this time leaving a trail of preseed as it rubbed between the two bodies, and humiliatingly Richard's treacherous maleness throbbed encouragingly, itself hardening further as the hawk-man fondled it.

"But then, you would want this... after all, my nanotech's a bit more advanced than people think..."

Richard was momentarily mystified. "Wha..."

"Remember when you shook my hand at the conference, my talon scratched you? The work of a moment, I assure you... a quick test to see if my... 'mental augmentation' nanotech might work as planned. I wanted to see if I could make a completely random guy come here, strip naked, and start whacking off to..."

The sharp beak pressed hard into his ear. "...gay bird porn, just for me..."

Richard didn't believe it, couldn't believe it. "N...no... It was an accident... walked here at random, opened the wrong page..."

"Oh, don't be coy... you've been dreaming for weeks, haven't you? Tell me, did you start out gay... or, did you find you stroked yourself to the thought of bird-women, then came while wishing you were a happy little fag who'd love to bed a real red-tailed-man instead of a make-believe woman?

Richard pushed deeper... and realised it was true, kind of. He'd not found the thoughts erotic... almost a mood-killer... but he'd had them, regular as clockwork.

"You've got this secret little fantasy that I appear, tear up everything you know about yourself, and control you completely... I know, because I *put* it there..."

Richard shook his head. "No! No, it's not..."

"Deny all you want, my delightfully resistant little toy... you wonder why you didn't leap up and sprint off the moment I appeared? I told you not to try and get away... you can't bear to disobey me..."

Richard was forming a retort when Stephenson cooed loudly, and those powerful, irresistible talons squeezed Richard's shoulders hard, pushing him down. Richard nearly overbalanced, and grasped at a nearby tree for support, the magazine falling forgotten to the ground below.

It wasn't until Stephenson ground his throbbing, leaking shaft into Richard's crevice that he realised what was happening... he was about to get mated, that cock was going inside his...

He wondered why his first thought had been 'mated' rather than 'raped'; he didn't want this... did he?

He gasped as he felt the tip of the inhuman shaft catch in his puckered sphincter, and a warm squirt of preseed spat into him. For some reason he couldn't fathom, his own shaft hardened further... he wasn't gay, he didn't want this, surely!

"Loosen up, cutie... it'll be better soon!" Stephenson said, half-promise, half-taunt.

"No... please, not this... Doctor, anything!"

"Call me Jan", crooned the hawk, distractedly, as he pushed, his hawkhood sinking into the hapless human, who squirmed and cried uncomfortably as he was speared on the thick member, his anal virginity lost while his shaft throbbed, fully erect now.

Jan gave a high-pitched shriek as he hilted himself, suddenly, making Richard grunt with the shock.

It didn't make sense... yet, somehow, it *did* make a certain, perverse sense. Hadn't he dreamed that a beautiful, alluring hawk-girl would shatter his preconceptions, force him to admit things to himself that he wanted deep down but didn't want to confess? Hadn't he dreamed of the forbiddenness of the passion and the way she effortlessly manipulated him into acting as she wished?

Had he, in some way, fantasised about a male hawk finding him, making him take pleasure in feeling a manhood throbbing against him and within him, forcing him down and pushing the thick avian shaft into him without permission or warning, being made into an arch-predator's prey, and... *enjoying* it?

He realised he *did*, somewhat, enjoy this. A secret little hidden corner of his brain sighed and relinquished up the secret desires he'd harboured since that day at the conference, of... of being...

"Such a good little bitch..." Jan cooed, completing Richard's thought, sliding his shaft out of the man's abused ass, and chuckling as he felt the stretched muscles start to pull at his tip, as if hungry to be filled. "And so eager!" he finished, sinking slowly back inside again. "The nanotech program worked so perfectly... the resistance, the confusion, nice touch, just what I looooove...." He crooned. "You'll make an excellent little songbird for me, singing so sweetly as you cum from the feel of your master inside you..."

Richard groaned, and felt shame burn his cheeks as he realised he'd made his pleasure audible.

"Ho ho, don't think that's a metaphor... You see, I get very..." Jan punctuated his sentence with a harder thrust, grinding his cock against Richard's prostate, "...lonely, being the only bird around. I want someone to tangle feathers with, someone... someone who loves the feel of my cock buried in their tail, someone delicate who can't fight back, but sturdy enough I can afford to be rough..."

The words felt like a dreadful distraction from an increasingly wonderful feel of being mated. Richard was, kind of, coming to terms with feeling a sudden lust for a bird-man's shaft pushing deep inside him, and not being the one on top was a shock to his sexual fantasies. He definitely wasn't sure he wanted any kind of commitment or...

"I gave you another scratch a few minutes ago. This one's the same nanotech I got... fortuitously... infected with, but a rather better version, a controlled version. You're going to be a lovely little kingfisher... all mine, heart and soul... You're going to be a cute little birdie just for me, a special Christmas treat..."

Richard's eyes shot open and he looked back along his body, realising with shock that his teeth had started to fuse together and discolour, his skin was starting to grow goosebumps and lumps as dark feathers began to grow out of him... and his cock was harder than ever, leaking rhythmically as Jan mated him and prodded his prostate.

He didn't want to be a bird! But... he couldn't bring himself to say it. Being a bird would please Jan... and he... kind of wanted to please Jan, whatever happened.

His mouth hung open, the shock forgotten as he pushed back, softly at first, against Jan's thrusts. The extra force made shivers run through him, head to toe, made his blood boil with lust. He felt so wonderfully filled, and he wanted more, every delicious millimeter of the throbbing birdhood buried inside him.

Jan seemed to be beyond speech now, half-formed words like "good", "birdie", "fuck", "tight" and "yes" mixing with incoherent coos and caws, as the pace of the mating picked up, the shaft sliding lewdly and loudly into Richard's ass.

Richard leaned further forward, lowering his head, letting the hawk lean over him and slide just a little deeper. His hands cramped suddenly, discolouring and the skin cracking open as they began to form into talons, and he lost his grip entirely, falling forward onto the leafy ground, banging his small but growing beak against it. Feathers pushed out from his face as his longer tongue lolled from his mouth at the feeling of being fucked in the ass by a powerful hawk-man, harder now, faster, more visceral and primal than ever. His feet started to curl into hindtalons as his backside sprouted tailfeathers, the new tail twitching and scraping at Jan's chest.

Tangling with his feathers, Richard thought, pleased. Jan would like that.

Amazingly, he felt a completely new set of appendages forming from his shoulders... his wings, he realised. He wondered if he'd be strong enough to fly with them... he recalled reading somewhere, foggily, that Jan could glide. He wondered what it'd be like to be mated like this in the air, in complete freedom...

He chuckled to himself, groaning loudly as he felt the first twitches of his orgasm start to build. He wouldn't have imagined, even an hour ago, that he'd not only have gotten over his weird aversion to the lewdly obscene avian men in his magazine - ah, those superbly, stupendously sexy males that made his loins ache to imagine - but that he'd also be finding this out while turning into a bird, and flexing his freshly-deflowered ass around the thick, meaty length of a very dominant, wonderfully virile male hawk who wanted Richard to... to...

...to be his mate? To take his cock and satisfy him every day? Richard could scarcely breathe with the lust boiling within him at the thought, even as a smaller and smaller part of him wondered if that was just the nanotech thinking for him!

Jan hilted himself hard, fast, and very suddenly, grinding softly deep inside Richard's ass... and Richard felt a sudden explosion of warmth deep within him as the hawk's seed spewed into him, a shrill cry of pleasure erupting from Jan's beak as his shaft spat seed deep inside his new little pet.

Richard's warble was softer, more melodious, and had a slightly melancholy undertone as he sang a wordless song, of lament at the end of his former life, his hopes for better in his new life, of acceptance of his new role, of pleasure at having a wonderfully sexy male mate him, of joy at the thought that Jan wanted more of him, that Richard had pleased him. There was one other factor, though, that overwhelmed all the others in his song; he sang of lust, lust that was being sated as Richard's still-human balls drew up into his ever-more-avian body, and his ever-less-human shaft shook as his own seed started to jet hard out of him, the orgasm the best and most fulfilling he could ever remember having.

His tailhole trembled around his master's hawkhood, coaxing a loud coo and another weak spurt of avian essence from the buried maleness, as the newly-formed Kingfisher rode his orgasm down from its height.

Jan collapsed on top of the newly-made bird, exhausted.

"Wow... you are one hell of a fuck, birdie..." he breathed, making Richard's chest puff up with pride. Jan pulled slowly out of Richard's tailhole, relishing the sensation, and looking at the eager cockslut of an Amazon Kingfisher. "Don't worry, my little fisher... there's more where that came from!"

Still, this was one fine bird he'd brought into being... but not exactly his best effort. No, that would have to be the young woman he'd made into a fairly dominant osprey, who'd ridden him until his ass was sore. This was not his first 'test'; how many now? Ten? Fifteen?

Richard was a bit special, though; Jan's private little Christmas gift to himself, and unique; he'd perfected his nanotech enough that he'd made a straight guy bend over for him. That power... turned Jan on.

Richard, knowing none of what was in Jan's mind, blushed at the praise, chirping quietly, breathlessly saying something about being thankful and happy and eager to be mated again. The process had worked perfectly, and Jan felt his softening hawkhood stir again.

But Jan's focus was already on thoughts of the more familiar surroundings of his wilderness-bound home in the middle of nowhere, to which Richard would soon be introduced; its curse had become a blessing that let him do just about anything, undisturbed, as he pleased... like constructing his harem. Why settle for just one bird when he could have whatever he wanted, make them want whatever he fancied?

Now that he'd perfected the transformative process to an art form... well, this little birdie was for life, not just for Christmas!

"Please... please, Jan, fuck me again... I need you, I need you so much..." Richard cooed, nuzzling Jan's chest while the hawk hugged him close, fiercely protective instincts triggering over his new plaything.

He chuckled, massaging Richard's half-hard birdhood. "A bird in the hand... well, you know what they say!" He said, feeling his shaft harden rapidly. Maybe... maybe there was time for just *once* more before they set off...