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Hello! So, I probably won't do this with every story I write, but since this is the first I've posted I figured a small note at the beginning is fine.

I wanted to say that this is the first complete smut/furry story I've ever written. Hell, it's really the first story of any kind that I've ever completed, though "complete" might not be the right word. I intended to write an epilogue, and possibly just add more to the story, but, honestly, I just got fatigued and I have a bad tendency to discourage myself from writing. Cx>

Anyway, please be critical and constructive! I'd always rather know my stories are bad than falsely believe they are good. ;w; I especially want to know if there are enough "juicy" parts of the story - I tried to extend the good parts, but I'm always afraid there's too much downtime.

---

The sandy yellow concrete blocks never left much room for imagination along the long Texas roads. A building here, a building there - it was difficult to fathom what exactly could be happening inside the multitude of random, stoic-looking facilities that seemed to pop into existence every couple of miles. It didn't help that most of them lacked denominations, and it would have been easy to accidentally drive by the correct building had Matthew not seen the seemingly free roaming horses behind one of the complexes. A dirt road cut into the shoulder of the highway, and Matthew slowed the car as he turned, the austerity of the building only more apparent as he drew closer.

ASU Hippotherapy Research Facility adorned an impractically small sign further down along the dirt road leading up to the building, the gold and blue paint scuffed and faded away by the constant dusty wind. The sign made Matthew wonder if all of these identical facilities did in fact have names that couldn't be seen from the road - it seemed likely, but he hoped he wouldn't ever actually have to find out. Matthew sighed, leaning back into the cream-colored leather of the car seat; it was a Friday afternoon, and finals were finally over, but he still wasn't ready to graduate. He had forgotten that his intro to psychology class, purely taken for the sake of an easy A and some required elective credits, required all students to sign up to be the guinea pigs for experiments by graduate level students. It was all rather insulting - Matthew was practically a graduate himself, virtually a bachelor of computer science already, and the idea of being a test subject for some snide graduate student who was marginally more qualified than himself made him cringe. So, in a prideful attempt to silently protest the requirement, he had elected to wait until the last second to do the three required hours of testing.

Matthew hadn't intended to be quite this last second though. He had well and truly forgotten to sign up for any of the available slots online during the allotted hours, and had been locked out of the university system when he had attempted to sign in. Panicking, he had called a friend to ask where he had gone for credit, and this was the unfortunate place he had told him to go to - "Thirty minutes outside of Grape Creek, you'll see horses next to a big, blocky building," he had said.. He stopped in what was presumably the parking lot, or at least as close to flat, park-worthy space as he could manage, and stepped out onto the rusty looking grass. Apprehension gripped him as he stepped towards the building's entrance; it occurred to Matthew that it was very possible that nobody would even be there since he didn't have an appointment. He could hear horses nickering behind the building - surely somebody had to be there to take care of them, no? The horses weren't fenced in, but Matthew, attempting to quell his doubt, assumed that they could simply be trained not to wander. Matthew stepped sprightly towards the facility and pushed on the glass door handle only to meet resistance, his momentum causing him to gently press against the door. The clicking of a lock jostling inside of its mechanical holster clacked at him in protest.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Matthew swore, his voice wavering slightly as he flushed with heat. He pushed on the handle again, a little harder, but still met with nothing but a light jiggling of metal locks holding fast. Matthew tried pulling instead, though the handle was clearly meant for pushing - still nothing.

Matthew banged on the thick glass, hoping somebody happened to be inside. The door was heavily tinted, so it was fairly difficult to see through, but from what he could tell it looked like it opened up into a small lobby, the fluorescent lights almost making the space reminiscent of clinics he had been to. He could only hope a receptionist or janitor or someone would hear him. He banged again, three times. Still nobody came. He banged again one last time as hard as he dared to on the glass, the reverberation making his hand ache and causing the door to audibly groan on its hinges, but there was no visible reaction from inside. He began to wonder once again about the kind of people who could possibly work at such dismal looking places, or really if anyone worked at them at all.

"Ooohhh my God." Matthew pressed his fingers against the edges of his eyes, his breath tight in his chest. "Ooohhh my fucking God. I'm gonna fail my fucking intro class. What a joke. This is such a bad joke." Matthew slumped against the glass door, the prickly grass below sticking through his tan shorts as he slid down along the door's length. It was too late to call his friend for a different place to go, and Matthew was too far out either way - it'd take him at least an hour to get anywhere from here, and people would be getting out of work by that time. He picked himself up, still leaning against the glass, and ran his sandy fingers through his black hair, powdering it with flecks of dust.

"Ugh," Matthew grunted, pushing himself off the glass. There was nothing to be done. He had screwed up. He figured his best bet was to email the professor and ask for _something_he could do, but Matthew knew better than to think begging would help. Begging didn't help him when he was a freshman, and begging sure as hell wouldn't help as a senior. Still, there was nothing else he could try, and he figured with all the bad luck he's had, perhaps he'd find a stroke of good luck soon. Though naturally he tried not to hope for much.

Matthew shuffled towards his car, his shoes dragging through the dusty foliage. He could still hear the sound of hooves on the earth and light nickering - he supposed it was possible the horses really were just free roaming, and that he had stumbled upon the correct building purely by chance. A stroke of luck in and of itself, Matthew thought, but unless the horses could open the door and give him experiment credits, it wouldn't exactly be the most helpful luck he's had...

"Can I help you sir?"

The sound of clicking metal and a young woman's voice instantly reinvigorated Matthew, who spun on his heels towards the source. A short, stout woman with dirty blonde hair in a ponytail and a lab-coat stood in the entryway, her pale, pudgy face made pudgier by her squinting, as though she had just been in the dark for too long. Matthew noticed that, behind her, it actually _was_dark inside the building; only the lobby lights had been left on, but the hallways behind were unlit.

"Yes!" Matthew exclaimed, barely containing his relief. "Oh, yes ma'am, very much so." Matthew took a step away from his car and towards the woman, crossing his arms behind himself out of polite habit. "I'm here for the ASU psychology program. I signed up for it on SOMA." A complete lie, Matthew knew, but he figured he'd work out the details once she finally realized that.

The woman tilted her head ever so slightly, and somehow managed to squint even harder at Matthew.

"Did you now?" the woman said, the barest hint of annoyance inflecting on her voice. "I'm sorry, but it actually wasn't possible to sign up today. All student-approved experiments ended a week ago."

Matthew felt the blood drain from his face - already called out, he thought to himself. He had hoped whoever was doing the experiment would go along with his white lie, but clearly this lady wasn't the merciful type.

"B-but ma'am, credits aren't due until Monda-"

"I'm sorry," the woman cut him off, crossing her arms. For such a short person, she put off a rather intimidating presence, Matthew mused. "You clearly waited until the last second to do this. SOMA has been down since last week, so I don't think you signed up for anything. I've gone through the same thing hun; I was a student once too, but I can't just give you credits. You've actually gotta do something, and unfortunately we have nothing for you to do. So if that's all..."

The woman began backing into the complex, pulling the door shut slowly behind her, and Matthew was left to wallow in the obtuse curtness of her response. Desperation hit Matthew like a freight train - he really had nothing left if this lady turned him away, and he wasn't going to let that happen.

"Ma'am please!" Matthew shouted, his voice cracking. He felt embarrassed for sinking so low as to beg in person, but he couldn't do anything else. "I'll do anything - anything- if you give me those credits. I'll clean, I'll work for free for the next month, I don't care. Just please... I can't fail this class. I'm so close to graduating and I can't afford another semester..." Matthew tried not to overdue it with the melodrama, but he wasn't exactly lying either - school was expensive, and he just wanted to be done. "Just please ma'am. Without these credits, none of my other grades will even matter."

The closing door slowed and stopped, her foot catching it right before it clicked into place. It barely pushed open, and the woman stuck her circular face out, peering at the student with a peculiar glint in her baby-blue eyes.

"Anything?_Really now? I hope you're not a creative writing major, cause that's the most cliché thing I've ever heard." She chuckled to herself, fully pushing the door open and locking it in an open position. "Still though... if you're really willing to do _anything, as you say, then I suppose I could find something for you to do. You'd better be ready though, cause you'll definitely be here longer than three hours. I think that's only fair though, since you did_come here at the last second. Oh, also," the woman put on a devious grin, "you'd better actually be willing to do _anything."

Matthew blinked, confused. He had partially hoped that he would receive all three hours of credit for only an hour or so worth of work - that's how most other extracurricular credits worked, in his experience. Even discounting that, three hours of work for three hours of credit wouldn't be so bad if it meant he passed. Longer than that though... The way she emphasized his willingness to do anything wasn't exactly reassuring either, but he quashed the thought. The length of the activity was the more concerning matter at the moment.

"Longer than three hours...? But it's..." Matthew pulled out his phone and glanced at it, "...it's already almost 5:00pm. When will I get home?"

The woman looked up pensively, squinting again at the hot afternoon sun. "Oh... Hmm." She crossed her arms and nodded to herself lightly; it seemed like she was feigning deep consideration, more than anything. "Tomorrow. Yea, definitely by tomorrow afternoon."

"Tomo- what?!" Matthew stopped himself from swearing, though he couldn't help but call out that bullshit internally and allow some of his indignation to seep into his voice. "Am I supposed to stay here overnight?!"

"Yes, the experiment is going to take place over the course of the evening, night, and morning, and should be over by this time tomorrow, if not earlier. You will be provided with suitable quarters and a meal later this evening and in the morning. I imagine you'll be ok with this, since you were 'willing to do anything'" The woman's mocking tone made it difficult for Matthew to swallow his pride, but he choked down any rebellious retorts.

"Yea... yea, that'll be alright, ma'am." The usual respect Matthew held towards strangers and elders was quickly fading, as he was finding himself becoming all too familiar with this woman's attitude. "May I know whom I have the _pleasure_of working with...?"

"Dr. Terry Rochter, though Dr. Rochter or just Doctor works well too. Ma'am too, if you insist. So, who might you be?"

"Matthew," he said curtly. A part of him didn't want to give his last name, but how else would Dr. Rochter attribute credits to him? "Matthew... Peña."

"Well, nice to meet you Mr. Peña. If you'll follow me," Dr. Rochter undid the door from its open position and held it ajar, "...we can be on our way."

Matthew took a step towards the door, but immediately felt mild regret as he faced the dark hallways of the complex. It was too late to turn back though, and Matthew steeled his resolve, trudging forward into the brightly lit and darkly outlined lobby of the facility.

---

Their footsteps echoed in the long, dimly lit hallway they had taken. While not visible from the front of the building, there existed a hallway right along the corner of the lobby that had not been completely darkened, but instead had only weak floor lights, like a movie theatre. The light was enough to see Dr. Rochter in front of him, but not enough to keep the uneasiness from seeping into his gut.

"So..." Matthew chimed, the artificial liveliness of his voice masking a poor attempt to stave off the uncomfortable atmosphere. "Ya'll... study hippotherapy here? Like, you study horses and-"

"We study how horses interact with people, yes, and how they can beneficially influence a human's recovery, both mentally and physically." Dr. Rochter didn't miss a beat, walking at a moderate pace down the seemingly endless hallway. Matthew noted in a passing thought how long they had been walking down the hallway, at least a minute or two at this point. He was absolutely sure that the hallway was unable to fit in the modest size of the facility he saw above, which might explain the downward tilt of the floor - they could be underground.

"I see..." Matthew glanced behind him, the light of the lobby nearly gone, leaving nothing but dim blackness and shadows. "I, uh... was wondering why ya'll would be studying horses in a place like this. I mean, unless ya'll bring the horses down here or something..."

"We study some of the more... radical interactions between the species." Again, Dr. Rochter cut Matthew off in what was quickly becoming a pattern. "I'm sure you first thought me to be a doctor of psychology, but actually I am a doctor of bioengineering and biochemistry." Matthew only had a brief moment to reevaluate the age of the woman before him - or her apparent status as a genuine genius - before she continued. "I also have an associate's in animal science, but, well, I figured out very quickly that finding high-quality meat wasn't really my thing." She snorted - an ugly, pretentious sounding noise that Matthew supposed was her version of condescending laughter. "Anyway, what I mean by 'radical' is that we study the very intricate details of the human-horse interactions, down to the most minute nuances that affect beneficial outcomes in hippotherapy. My purpose here is to discover what makes the perfect horse for a human - one that is capable of attuning and bonding to its rider, provides dynamic experiences for different individuals that is tailored to their deficiency, and also stimulates the rider by, well, just being a horse. More simply put, I'm trying to find - or make - a horse that is as human as it gets without actually being human." She tilted her head back for a moment as she walked before refocusing on the hallway ahead. "I'm sure it seems like an oddly specific endeavor to you, but I have my interests, as I'm sure you have yours."

"As for the lighting, we perform a lot of biochemical work here that is sensitive to light. Many of the cultures, fluids, and other testing material we use is activated by UV radiation, so we do our best to minimize asset loss by having dim lighting and a darkroom laboratory." She paused for a moment. "It's a lot more chemical and a little less 'horsey' than you might think. Well... actually it's still pretty horsey."

Dr. Rochter chuckled to herself, her frame bobbing up and down to the sound of her laughter. Matthew would have laughed too if Dr. Rochter had sounded any less serious than she did, but, as seemingly convinced as she was, Matthew couldn't help but feel a little creeped out.

"That... well, that does sound difficult, yep." It was all Matthew could manage for a moment. "But I don't suppose that's a little, well... I dunno, maybe a little far-fetched...?" Matthew peeled the words through his teeth, afraid of offending the figure who was not only intimidating, but, in the dim lighting and generally claustrophobic atmosphere, frankly a bit frightening now. "Far-fetched" was not the phrase Matthew wanted to use, but a careful choice of vernacular seemed to be the best course of action.

Dr. Rochter turned her head, looking at Matthew through her peripherals. "You can say it if you want. You think I'm a mad scientist, and you're probably right!" She laughed, a short, comical snicker that was more like a series of sucked in breaths than anything. "I got funding from the school though, so I guess it can't be that crazy. The perks of living in horse country I'd say." She returned to face the front, and Matthew's gingerly held smile faded instantly.

Dr. Rochter suddenly slowed, the constant plodding of her sneakers along the ground reduced to little more than a medium-paced shuffle.

"Do you consider yourself superstitious Matthew?" She said suddenly, at a volume much less audible than she had been prior. The question took Matthew aback - it seemed starkly out of place when they had been talking about some rather serious, though not-entirely-believable stuff.

"I... guess?" Matthew stammered, not entirely sure what to make of the question. "I mean, I don't believe in ghosts or anything, but I guess some things happen that can't be explained. Why do you ask...?"

"Oh, no reason. Don't worry - the stuff we do here is a little radical, but we're not using cauldrons, I promise." Matthew momentarily imagined Dr. Rochter as an old, warty bruja, and figured her sketchy science wasn't too far off what actual witches might do. "I just think it's rather interesting... I'm sure you've noticed that there's no way I could have heard the door from down here." Matthew tripped over himself as he glanced back again, the fading light of the lobby from before now all but swallowed up by darkness. "I just happened to be fetching some snacks from up in the main building when you came a-knocking. You, needing credits, and me, needing a test subject. Coincidence or fate?" Dr. Rochter didn't turn her head back again, but Matthew had the faint impression that she was smiling - another reinforcement of his discomfort.

"Speaking of which..." Dr. Rochter turned in her stride and pulled a small, reflective bag out of her coat pocket. "Want a Rice Krispie?"

Matthew shook his head, not entirely sure if he could eat in his current state.

Dr. Rochter shrugged, and peeled open the bag. "Just let me know if you change your mind. Oh, and no eating in the lab."

The rest of their walk was made in silence and muffled munching, the eerie lights of the floor playing tricks on Matthew's eyes at every turn, and turn they did. Multiple times throughout the walk they made a complete U-turn down another hallway, each one seemingly steeper than the last, until they finally reached a set of stairs leading towards a red lit room below. Matthew could hear light footsteps beneath them, and, despite convincing himself that the woman he was following was at least somewhat loony, he realized Dr. Rochter wasn't being schizophrenic when she was saying "we." She did, in fact, have co-workers, ones that Matthew could only wish weren't quite as crazy as she was. Matthew noticed that the red glow of the room he entered was brighter than a darkroom for photo development, which eased the feeling of tension he experienced in the ominous lighting. Regardless, the multitude of jars, beakers, and other chemical appliances, combined with the dark red tint of the room, lent to the general uneasiness that he felt. Two other men, both in lab coats as well with nearly indiscernible features in the darkness, spun to face him and Dr. Rochter when they entered the room. Their expressions, though difficult to see, seemed to betray their surprise.

"Patrick, Tim." Dr. Rochter spoke, more casually and free-feeling than she had with Matthew, "this is Matthew Peña. He's going to be part of our experiment this evening."

A brief silenced enveloped the group, the din of equipment whirring becoming painfully loud in the awkward silence. One of the men, only slighter taller than Matthew and with dark, curly hair tied back in a small bun and glasses that glinted red in the darkroom, seemed to be the first to collect his wits after the initial pause.

"Ah, hello...!" The man approached Matthew tentatively, giving off the impression of dubiousness. He extended his hand hesitantly, a short pause seeming to fill the space before his body reacted to his mind. The reluctant politeness wasn't quite hitting the mark, but regardless Matthew took his hand firmly; the man seemed to have the grip of a wet noodle. "I'm Patrick, Patrick Warrick." He smiled, or at least made an attempt to, before releasing the handshake, which Matthew was grateful for; weak handshakes were always so awkward. Patrick turned to Dr. Rochter, and while the dark of the room and his thick glasses made it difficult to tell, Matthew could almost see disapproval lining the edges of his face.

"Dr. Rochter, could I, ahem, have a word...?" Patrick said, the obtuseness of his disapproval suddenly becoming exceedingly apparent.

"Of course Pat." Dr. Rochter replied, though she had already begun perusing the various beakers and capped syringes along the counter. "Is it about the experiment?"

"Naturally." Annoyed wouldn't have quite described the tone of his voice - Matthew could only assume Patrick had not yet gotten used to the casual dismissal and disregard that Dr. Rochter seemed to toss around so easily around her colleagues. Though, Matthew did wonder if it was something anyone could really get used to.

"In_private,_ please...?"

"Patrick," Dr. Rochter's casual voice suddenly became very motherly and intimidating once again, though she still continued to peruse the countertops. "Matthew here is going to be our test subject. If we're going to discuss the experiment, I imagine it would be to his benefit to be briefed and and at least somewhat informed."

Patrick raised his hands at his sides, incredulous at the gentle retort.

"Wanna brief me and Tim first? Cause I don't think either of us actually know what experiment you're talking about. Like, literally, you've never brought anyone down here before, and we've got nothing that a student can help with."

The other man, who Matthew could only presume to be Tim, was a shorter, wider fellow with light blonde hair that was bright even in the darkroom. He had elected to stand stock still and not utter a word, instead glancing between the three other individuals in the room. Patrick, on the other hand, turned now to Matthew, his look one of mild sympathy and annoyance - an odd looking combination at best.

"Look man, I dunno what Terry told you, but we do all of our student testing up in the main building, and all that stuff is basically volunteer work - you feed the horses, clean the building, stuff like that. We don't have anything down here that's ready for live testing-"

"Completely untrue Pat," Dr. Rochter chimed in, plucking a small container from one of the labeled racks and an empty syringe from a dispenser. "Asset B157, synthesized just last week, remember? A stable, test-ready experiment just waiting to happen."

It seemed difficult for Patrick to become more incredulous than he already was, but somehow he pulled off the look. "Wha...?! I don't think we have the same definition of 'test-ready'. We only have simulations and ideas about what might happen with a human test subject!"

"Ooohh my gosh," a squeaky, surprisingly high voice came from the stockier man, Tim, who had suddenly gone from timidity to near giddiness, his hands clumped into tight fists and his frame nearly jittering with energy. "Are you saying... we're gonna do a live test?! Oh man! Oh man this is so awesome!"

Patrick rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers, his eyes squeezed shut.

"This is such a bad idea... it's not ready at all. I'm surprised you think this is ok Terry. Just walking in here with some random guy?" He turned to Matthew again, the red of his glasses glinting. "You can't possibly want to do this, right? I mean, you'd have to be crazy!"

Matthew backed away a single step from Patrick, feeling pressed into a proverbial corner. All eyes were on him, he suddenly realized, and the room became all the more foreboding as his mind shot back and forth between what they were discussing. In the tumult of his thought, he managed to utter the only logical thing that came to mind.

"I... um... What's the experiment?" It occurred to Matthew how stupid he was to not think of asking this before, and how stupid he suddenly felt amid these people.

Clearly he wasn't the only one who thought so. Patrick stared, his mouth hanging slightly agape, slowly turned to Dr. Rochter.

"You...didn't tell him what he'd be doing?!" Patrick's voice, only barely below yelling, nonetheless sounded deafening in the relative silence of the room.

"Pat, listen." Dr. Rochter put her hands palms outward defensively, before crossing her arms. "We're wasting time with this. I'm gonna perform this experiment with or without your help. But tell you what," her voice, more lilting and subtle, accompanied the barely visible grin she had. "If you help me, you - and yea, you too Tim - can both be co-authors of this particular publication, and I'll allow both of you to share profits on _any_future dividends this might give. Twenty percent to each of you, sixty for me. That's pretty generous, if I do say so myself." Her grin faded away into a grim expression. "Don't help, and I may feel inclined to make your doctoral path a little... _less_than pleasant."

Patrick flinched, grimacing at the threat. Matthew couldn't help but wonder at the ethics of all this - just exactly how much of this laboratory and its experiments was under the radar. Patrick sighed, and threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Fine. Do whatever. Don't blame me when shit happens."

"Aw come on Pat. It'll be fineeee," Tim chimed in again, his voice still electric with excitement. He clapped Patrick on the back, a thick, meaty slap straightening him out with a yelp. "Let's get this started!"

"Wait! Wait, wait..." Matthew finally managed to gasp out, feeling as though he had been holding his breath for the past minute. "I _still_don't have any idea what ya'll are doing to me! What's that container? What's the syringe for? Don't I need to sign a waiver or something? What the actual hell is happening?"

Dr. Rochter motioned to Tim and Patrick, seemingly ignoring Matthew's pleas.

"Get the observational systems up and running Pat, and get the nodes Tim. I'll get our subject here up to speed... for the most part. Oh, and you might want to use the restroom Matt."

She turned to Matthew, and for a moment the crazed glint in her eye, flushed and augmented by the glow of the room, looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

---

"So... just to recap. You're injecting this 'B157' into me and it's going to do... what exactly?" Matthew certainly didn't feel any more comfortable than he had just a few minutes before. He had been moved to a side room of the laboratory, one that was moderately sized, but with nothing in it. A rather plain testing room, Matthew thought as Tim removed his shirt and attached various suction cups along the length of his torso and arms. The cups felt tight against his skin, too tight even - they very nearly hurt as they grasped his flesh, though thankfully they weren't attached to anything that could be pulled.

Dr. Rochter wrapped an armband onto Matthew's forearm, the small inflatable squeezing tight until he couldn't quite feel his hand.

"Blood pressure 127/80... Not too bad. B157 is an enzyme we isolated from a horse and converted into a... special culture. What exactly it will do is, ah, uncertain, but that's why it's a test, right?"

Hardly a reassuring answer.

"Rest assured, it's not as unsafe as Patrick makes it out to be. He likes to pretend everything will kill everyone." Dr. Rochter's humor would have been appreciated, but in the murky redness of the room and the odd feeling of being suction-cupped and skinned at the same time, Matthew wasn't feeling quite as receptive as usual.

"It's still not completely safe though, right?"

"If you're worried that it'll kill you, then I can almost assure you that it won't. Unless you're, aha, allergic to horses... you're not, right?"

"No."

"Well, then it won't kill you. Probably."

'Probably' wasn't the answer Matthew wanted to hear, but it felt just a tad too late to start walking out the door - he flinched as Tim attached a suction cup to his right pectoral.

Dr. Rochter finished up a few more measurements, taking Matthew's heart rate, BMI, height, weight, and various other things, while Tim finished the last of the suction cups, all of them lightly pinching Matthew's skin in a way that made even the barest shifting uncomfortable.

"Alright, so." Dr. Rochter backed away to take a look at Matthew, his upper body covered every few inches in white nodes, all wirelessly connected to the system. "When we inject you, it should initially do nothing. After about five minutes, you will turn on the UV light switch in the room, which, if we're correct, should activate the chemical within your body. We'll continue to observe you throughout the experiment through the nodes, though we unfortunately will not be able to be in the room with you." Dr. Rochter made a thumbs up motion to Patrick, who was not visible to Matthew from within his confinement. "Hopefully the initial observation won't take more than fifteen minutes, but we'll need you to, ah, stay overnight for further observation and to ensure your safety."

It was a light vote of confidence for Matthew to actually hear concern for his safety, but it didn't help with the tightness of his gut or the dryness of his throat.

"Alrighty then."

"Good. All set then?" Tim reappeared behind Dr. Rochter carrying a capped syringe and a cotton swab doused with alcohol. "This'll hurt for only a second." Dr. Rochter said, brushing Matthew's arm with the swab. The cold feeling of the alcohol on his skin was accompanied a light sting as she buried the needle into his arm and injected the clear fluid. A frigid sense of fear washed over Matthew - was he really this desperate to get some credits? This was all so... so underground. Unethical. Illegal even. All these realizations came a moment too late, and Matthew pushed them to the back of his head. Surely it'll be nothing more than a simple night of silent boredom. Nothing more. His thoughts calmed as he reassured himself of his safety.

"There we go, not so bad." Dr. Rochter opened up a bandage and pressed it onto the small pinprick - it was adorned with cartoon horses, Matthew noted with mild amusement. "Alright, so, we'll set off the first alarm when five minutes passes, and then you'll press this button right here." She pointed towards a small, indented button on the side of the wall, rather tiny for its purpose. "It'll get pretty bright, so be prepared. That should be everything!"

She was sidling out of the room, pushing Tim behind her when Matthew noticed something very peculiar while sitting in the middle of the room. His chair bobbed, and the entire room seemed to shift ever so slightly, bouncing as the two colleagues exited. Almost like an elevator, Matthew mused.

"Oh, one last thing." Dr. Rochter spoke from behind the twin closing doors, which, again, reminded Matthew very much of an elevator. "You may wanted to remove your shorts."

Matthew almost snorted.

"Um, why...?"

"Oh, no reason." Dr. Rochter said, her voice muffled from behind the metal panels. The second set of doors locked into place, and suddenly the room went very dark, and very silent.

Five minutes seemed to pass extremely slowly within the darkness of the room. It was not even lit like the darkroom was - it was completely black, with the only lighting coming from the tiny, barely luminescent button on the wall. As if it already wasn't claustrophobic enough, Matthew thought. The only sounds came from the very faint whirring of the electricity in the room beside him, and the occasional shuffling of feet as he adjusted himself in his seat. One hundred and twenty two seconds... counting each passing second wasn't exactly helpful, but it kept his mind occupied. The pinching of the suction cups made his torso throb, which only made it harder to concentrate on anything else besides the pulses matching every second.

Matthew briefly considered taking his shorts off, as Dr. Rochter suggested, but figured she might just be messing with him - for all he knew, she could be a pervy woman as well as a crazy one. He elected to keep them on, when suddenly a "bleeeeeep" came through the room intercom.

"Five minutes Matthew."

Finally, Matthew thought.

"Alrighty then, here goes." Matthew covered his eyes, readying himself for the light. He pressed the button, and the lights came on from almost every corner of the room; blinding, heavy duty lights that flooded his vision even from behind his hand and eyelids.

"Oh my God those are so fucking bright." Matthew gasped, taken by surprise.

"Sorry about that," the intercom, apparently two-way, responded, Dr. Rochter's voice grainy from the distortion. "It needs adequate UV light to activate. I did say to be ready."

"Right, right..." Matthew's eyes slowly adjusted to the light, but they were nonetheless quite intense, and he found himself looking almost directly at the floor beneath him to avoid looking directly into any of the sources.

A minute passed with nothing to show. Matthew sat, slightly bent over to more easily stare at the floor, again finding himself counting the seconds until this was all over. He got to one hundred and nineteen when suddenly he began to feel queasy, his stomach turning over and over. He had emptied his bowels just before, and now he figured this was the reason why - he didn't want to throw up in the middle of the room, or worse, get the runs. The churning of his gut was uncomfortable, but Matthew hoped it wouldn't get any worse with an empty stomach. It began to complain loudly - very loudly, in fact - and soon it was all Matthew could listen to, the chorus of inner bowel movements filling the otherwise silent room. His shorts, normally almost loose enough to require a belt, suddenly felt rather tight; Matthew had felt bloated before, usually after exercising, but it was never this bad. He opened his eyes, looking down as his stomach barely spilled over the edge of his shorts.

Matthew crossed his arms around his stomach, cradling it as he bent over and hoping the feelings, the bloating, and the noises would dissipate soon, figuring they were just part of the experiment. As his arms crossed, Matthew noticed that he felt particularly... stiff. His shoulders didn't seem to want to stretch even the modest amount that arm-crossing requires, and he found himself resting both of his hands in front of his bloated stomach instead, his hands dangling in between his legs. The stiffness was mildly concerning - Matthew had never had issues with flexibility before, but he quickly attributed it to some minor side-effect of the drug.

Just as he thought that, his fingers began to tingle, the dangling appendages all feeling as though they had spontaneously fallen asleep. He attempted to flex them, but none of his fingers budged. A prickling sensation filed up along Matthew's arm, starting from his hands, and soon had spread up into his shoulder. It felt like a million of the tiniest, most benign needles had begun tapping at his skin - not enough to hurt, but enough to annoy. He sidled uncomfortably in the chair, the feeling growing more intense as it flowed into his neck and back, his upper body covered by the bombarding of pins. Despite this, there was a peculiar numbness in Matthew's hands that seemed to be immune to the prickling, so much so that it became... almost pleasurable. The warm relief captivated Matthew, and for a moment he concentrated only on the feeling of his hands and how nice the numbness felt. Reflexively, he clenched only to remember that he could not actually move his fingers - the shocking reminder bringing Matthew out of his reverie and back into concerning reality.

Matthew lifted his hands up, his tangled thoughts finally deciding that exploring his body was a good idea. He looked at his fingers to see if they were going blue - a sign that circulation had stopped - as worry starting to worm its way into his head. His worry exploded into full-blown panic when the skin of his fingers - a tan, light-brown color normally - were slowly fading into black instead of blue, the unnatural hue seeping into his skin at an alarming rate. The blackness of the skin seemed to emanate from his fingertips, rising upwards into his palm and forearm before stopping at the bony protrusion of his wrist. His hands began to shake and panic took hold of him as Matthew sat back up, his arms futilely holding the sight of his dying hands before him.

"Dr. Rochter! Dr. Roc-"

The words caught in his throat, and came out as a wheeze. Matthew attempted to call out again, but found that he could not breathe through his mouth - in or out. It felt as though every word he spoke became something to gasp on, his breath refusing to come out in the form of speech. Another wave of panic enveloped him as he attempted to breathe, temporarily forgetting that he could use his nose as he choked on himself. Matthew wheezed again, his head thrown back in an attempt to clear his throat, before he fell forward out of the chair onto his hands - now completely blackened - and heaved, his chest hurling up and down as he made a desperate attempt to suck in. Just as he thought he was going to suffocate, an instinctive intake through his nose brought refreshing air into his lungs again. Matthew breathed in and out, attempting to calm himself as he stared at his hands and fingers. Slowly, the skin between the fingers seemed to merge and convene, and within only a few seconds his hands had entirely become one single digit, wide and almost circular. Through the chaotic storm of his ragged mind, he realized that it reminded him of a horse's hoof...

What the fuck is happening to me? He thought to himself, as he tried to bring one of his hands closer to his face, only to find the stiffness of his shoulders now extending to his elbows. The prickling from before had intensified, spreading down into his buttocks and legs, his entire body feeling as though he were rolling in needles. His waist felt heated and chafed, and Matthew realized that his belly, bloated as it was before, was now pressing tightly against his tan shorts, the metal button struggling to hold it in. Matthew pushed himself up onto his hands, the numbness of his giant digits quickly giving way to nothing but simple pressure - as he lifted himself, Matthew realized he could not actually "feel" his hands anymore, only a light pressure where his hands once were. He picked up his arm and placed it down again to the sound of a light clack on the floor.

Matthew pulled his knees up, the stiffness of his shoulders seemingly extended now to his legs as he fought to keep himself erect. He tried to put a leg up, attempting to stand, only to find that he couldn't quite straighten his back up entirely before falling back down. Matthew caught himself on his hooves, the _clack_coming a bit earlier than expected. Through his squinted eyes, Matthew looked down and swore that his arms were longer than before, the disjointed looking elbows stretching and pulsing every second... A strange warmth seemed to envelop his arms, just like his hands from before, and suddenly the prickling sensation ceased, the radiant feeling of relief filling Matthew up as he concentrated on his arms. For a moment, the prickling ceased - a moment later, the pins and needles redoubled their onslaught, and Matthew was once again drawn out into the pain of his changing body. The lights of the room were becoming dizzying as Matthew felt pressure build up inside of him, the entirety of his body feeling as though it were about to burst.

"Heeeeeeel... Neeeehhhllp"

Matthew wheezed, his "voice" nothing more than a shrill cry through his throat and nose, as his body began to bloat once again. Matthew's shorts, now woefully tight around his burgeoning belly, finally burst at the button as his stomach began to truly inflate and press outwards. His ass, tightly molded from consistent exercise, expanded within his boxers, stretching out the blue fabric to its limits. Every pulse pulled out the M&M's logo of his boxers further, the imprinted candies upon the surface expanding into quarter sized shapes, then cookie sized, then as large as oranges. As his rump continued to grow and destroy the clothing, Matthew's legs lengthened to match, the seams of his shorts ripping as they caught on his powerful growing thighs. He rapidly outgrew the confines of the tan cargo shorts, and with an unceremonious shrip, his legs exploded out of the fabric. A bony protrusion extended from atop his rump, penetrating through the valiantly cantankerous boxers, causing them to finally rip down along the middle seam. The protrusion extended outwards about a foot before finally tapering off to a rounded end, ending as a hairless tail. Matthew's stomach, already massive for any human, burst out one last time, sending the tattered remnants of his shorts tumbling down the length of his legs. Hair sprouted at the tip of the fleshy tail, a black, shimmering sea jumping up through the tail and onto Matthew's rump. It quickly covered the horse-half of his body, and slowly began to creep onto his human chest as it inched along his skin.

Matthew looked back, only mildly aware of the horse-like lower half he had developed, instead addled by the almost unbearable pleasure of the change. Everything had become a dizzy amalgamation of feelings; the prickling had become a harbinger of pleasure, its influence filling up every inch of Matthew's new legs and rump. He instinctively flexed, his powerful legs numb but warm, filling Matthew with a sensation between incredible relaxation and the brink of orgasm. He could only curl - or attempt to curl - his hands and tense his limbs as the pins and needles feeling flowed off of the heavenly warmth of his lower half and back into his upper body, the pain not enough to snap him out of his pleasure-fueled stupor. As Matthew tried to register the storm of changes, a new pressure developed in his chest. It barreled outward, pushing and throbbing, his ribs forcing out to match his bloated stomach, his chest muscles pumping every moment and becoming larger, more powerful. They continued to expand, becoming bigger than Matthew ever thought possible, as he only somewhat registered the changing view as his neck grew, the muscles becoming longer and more taut. His legs grew longer still, and Matthew's former arms grew to match - he could feel the muscles in them becoming leaner and bigger at the same time, the wirey tightness of his newfound strength an almost overwhelming pleasure to experience. Hairs flicked up to match the changing upper half of his body, and as his body continued to grow larger by the second in every area.

Matthew's face, unchanged, began to numb too, and his vision become blurry. Through the watery view, he could see a black protrusion sprouting forward, growing larger and wider, expanding as he felt his head grow heavier, his face becoming thicker and numbing warmth beginning to envelop the entirety of his senses. His ears itched for a few moments before suddenly receiving an entirely new, revitalized sense of sound, the whirring of electricity and the heavy, sporadic breathing through thickened nostrils sounding more intense and vivid than ever before. His nose pressed out further, tapering into a rounded snout, and he became bombarded by newfound smells - the plaster of the room, the metallic rust, and his own musk and scent filling his nostrils, driving him to passionate convulsion of lust and pleasure. Finally, the blurry mass of his vision came back into focus - or, an entirely new focus. Matthew could almost see the entirety of the room now, and could see himself still growing, becoming almost big enough to touch the ceiling with his back. He was only dimly aware of the reality of what was happening - the sight of his growing body and expanding limbs only contributed to the physical pleasure he felt, supplementing it with visions of himself becoming the horse that he was.

Matthew reeled, his body numb and uncontrollable in the sudden change. Despite the cacophony of pleasure surging throughout him, he was distinctly aware of the feeling of something happening in his groin - the usual member, gone numb like the rest of his body, had the odd feeling of being less noticeable than the other changes. Instead, Matthew felt a tugging in his groin towards his rump, and a strange push right in between his legs. The tugging continued until it eventually reached deep inside of him, churning and working at his innards for reasons Matthew couldn't grasp in his trance. The prickling sensation, now almost completely gone, flowed into depths of Matthew's gut, lingering for an overlong and uncomfortable moment, before exploding outward, the pins releasing in a last wave that washed out to the extremities of the new horse. Matthew felt one last spurt of growth, his growing legs and rump bumping up against both the wall and ceiling simultaneously, Matthew's withers touching the ceiling, his head forcibly held down by the inadequate space as his chest heaved with the growth of his muscles, nostrils flaring at the effort. He felt like he was almost a bit hollow for a moment, the space where the prickling had last been now suddenly empty, leaving Matthew with an intense desire to be filled- before suddenly surging with strength, clenching his body in a tense, pseudo-orgasm of finality that pulsed down into his core. The last scraps of his tangible humanity, the boxers that had fought to maintain the decency of Matthew's new, black-coated flank, finally flittered down in sad defeat, resting atop the ripped remains of the his favorite shorts - the last spasm had proved too much for the stretchy cotton.

Matthew felt drunk with pleasure, his new muscles twitching and pulsing with heat in the afterglow of the transformation. The numbness that had ensnared his senses slowly began to fade, the pleasurable heat dissipating in a slow, burning lust that continued to permeate his new body. The shock of the change, however, proved overwhelming as he sank to his knees from exhaustion - his limbs failing to lock like a horse's should - and the room reverberated and bounced with the fall. Exhaustion swept across the newly made equine, and the world went black to the sound of the intercom's static.

---

"Matthew? Matthew!"

The shimmering lights of the room invaded Matthew's sight as he heard his name called, distant and muffled-sounding. It sounded feminine, and vaguely familiar, but before he could consider the thought his body racked with pain, a throaty groan shuddering from his insides as he felt his muscles contract in protest. The groan came out as little more than an emphatic snort, deep and reverberating, and somehow unlike any noise Matthew had ever known himself to make...

"Oh thank God, he's waking up," the voice said again, seemingly closer this time. Matthew felt a tap on his face, a smooth hand that pressed up against his cheek and brushed down his nose - it felt gentle, soothing, and he found the caress to be a decent distraction from the pain...

It struck him then: down his nose? Matthew realized that the hand seemed to connect to his face for an awfully long time. It reached far along where he had unconsciously always known his face to be, and the strange sensation of fingers underneath his chin suddenly became much more apparent.

Matthew tried to lift his head from the sheeted floor, only to find that he felt much heavier than he had ever felt in his life, the momentum of lifting his head an oddly acute sensation that caused him to drop down again in confusion. As his head hit the floor, a wave of aches washed over his body, and he let out a shrill cry that ebbed in the room - it sounded exactly like...

What... the...

"Woooah, easy there big guy," again, the voice reassured him, and in a moment of clarity Matthew finally remembered who it belonged to. Dr. Rochter coo'ed at him, still brushing down his nose as she gently pressed down on his head, keeping him in place now. "It'll be alright. No need to get up just yet." Matthew, his eyes still burning and tearing, looked up at the silhouette, its form motioning to two other shadows behind it. "Pick up all the nodes you can Tim, and go see if we have any analgesics left in the lab Pat. Quick." A moment later and the one, shorter shadow skittered next to Matthew, quickly collecting nodes off the floor before following the taller shadow. The first silhouette, Dr. Rochter, turned to Matthew again and resumed brushing, her fingers moving up to his ears which flicked reflexively, and down towards his neck, her fingers intertwining and gently tugging on his hair - mane? The thought again pulled Matthew out of his lethargy, and he once again attempted to lift his head, his body contorting and shifting to the side as he forced himself onto his knees. He nearly tipped over as the momentum carried him, and he steadied himself, looking at Dr. Rochter at his side. His eyes, adjusting to the light, could see her pudgy face, below-level with his own even on his knees and lit by the glow of the room he had been in. More curiously, he noticed that there was nothing but open field behind her. The red of the darkroom he had been expecting was gone.

The pain, still pulsing within every muscle in his body, was slightly more tolerable than a moment before, the stabbing feeling reduced to an intense throb. Enough to make every movement slow and deliberate, but not enough to stop the intense anxiety - and mild curiosity - that prompted Matthew to stand. He pushed himself, his knees pressing down against the floor as he awkwardly attempted to stand - the grip of the tile was less-than-stellar, and he found his hands, or hooves, unable to find good purchase. Through herculean effort and a roaring pain in his legs, Matthew pushed himself off the ground and onto his feet just as his head banged into the ceiling, the entire room vibrating at the massive collision.

Ow! Fuucckingg oww.

A series of snorts and quiet whinnies followed the tirade of curses in his head, the already prevalent pain from before augmented by the bump.

"Hey, careful now! You really shouldn't be standing if you're in so much pain, but the least you could do is watch yourself."

Dr. Rochter's stern voice, motherly but mocking, called Matthew's attention back to her, and as he leaned down he turned to face her. It was strangely difficult to focus on her, Matthew thought, and as despite staring her head-on he wasn't able to comfortably look at her. He did notice, however, the black protrusion in front of his face... long, large, and tapering down into what looked like nostrils. It was a horse's face.

The last shreds of confusion and stupor faded from Matthew's mind and he realized the bleedingly obvious - he was a horse. A massive horse even, as he looked down at the tiny Dr. Rochter, her face barely up to his chest. He turned his head, acutely aware of the powerful muscles in his neck as he did so, and looked back upon his body. It shimmered, a black sea hit by the setting sun, the powerful muscles in his rump visibly flexing as he began to explore his body. His tail flowed down to the floor, stopping only inches above it, a long waterfall of beautiful hair that flicked back and forth as he twitched. He turned his head down to look at his legs, wirey muscles stretched along his long limbs and ending in wide, black hooves that dwarfed his previous diminutive hands. His ankles were covered by silvery feather that looked as clean and pure as platinum.

Matthew looked forward again, his head still pinned down by the ceiling before realizing the same, obvious thing - he was a horse. The momentary awe of exploring his body gave way to massive anxiety and panic, and he backed up into the side of the wall, the metal bending slightly under his weight. His hooves clanged as he panicked, the room reverberating after each strike, leaving a constant deafening_boom_ that clouded out all of Matthew's senses.

What happened...! Why?!

His eyes widened, burning in the light of the room, and he could feel his heartbeat sprinting, his breaths caught in his throat. He felt the urge to run, to keep galloping until he woke up, to get away from this strange nightmare...

"Hey! Hey!" Dr. Rochter, whom Matthew had forgotten, nearly jumped to grab ahold of Matthew's face, pulling it down to be nearer to her own. "I said it's gonna be alright! Nothing to worry about, all part of the experiment..."

All part of the... experiment?

One last clang echoed in the room as Dr. Rochter spoke, her voice drowning out Matthew's panic.

"Don't worry, we planned for this. Come on... come on, this way."

She tugged on Matthew's face, and he succumbed, the more motherly side of Dr. Rochter winning out in the struggle between his panic and her reassurance. He stepped gingerly, each hoof-step feeling as though he were controlling a golem, the weight of his own body pressing down on the earth.

"Such a beauty... I never would've guessed Clydesdale." Dr. Rochter hummed to herself. They stepped out of the blinding lights of the room - inexplicably leading out into a field now - and stopped next to a metal overhead. The overhead was relatively small, only having two slots, but was still considerably larger than the previous room and fortunately large enough to allow Matthew to lift his head. The dirt floor was also strangely comfortable; Matthew had felt awkward and off-balance on the tiles, but felt much more grounded on the cushion-y dirt. Dr. Rochter stopped at one of the metal overhead's slot doors and patted Matthew on the neck.

"Good boy, you're doing great."

"Um... I dunno about doing great, but 'boy' is definitely not right."

Matthew felt a tug on his tail and instantly found himself wanting to kick - an urge he managed to quash, fortunately, as Tim pushed his tail to the side. He and Pat had returned quickly as Dr. Rochter requested, and had apparently snuck up on Dr. Rochter and him. Tim, to Matthew's detriment, was forwardly expressing his interest in the new horse.

"Yep, nothing there. Well, not nothing... Two things, actually." Tim pressed his hand against Matthew's crotch, a strange, fleshy spot Matthew was not used to, and instantly Matthew lifted a leg.

What the fuck do you think you're doing buddy? A guttural whinny was all Matthew could manage, to his chagrin.

"Woah woah, sorry man! I mean... Uh." Tim looked to Dr. Rochter, and beckoned to her. Dr. Rochter stooped down, looking below Matthew's undercarriage, her expression going from one of mild satisfaction to genuine surprise.

"Oh dear..." Dr. Rochter stood, her face barely suppressing a smile. "Well that's... unexpected." She turned to Matthew, the motherly aura she exuded all but gone and replaced by the same mad scientist that Matthew had grown all-too-familiar with. "Guess I should be saying good _girl_instead."

Matthew sucked in air, his breath drawn short.

Is that supposed to be funny? As if this isn't bad enough?!

He whickered, incredulous at the suggestion that he had subjected to even more indignation. Matthew craned his head around again, turning it as far as he could manage, and lifted up one of his hind legs - a difficult, awkward position to take, especially considering his unfamiliarity with his body. He struggled not to fall over, but right before he lost balance he managed to get a glimpse at his crotch.

Matthew was not completely familiar with the anatomy of a horse - in fact, he had very little contact with horses at any point in his life. However, he had seen a horse's junk at least once before, a long, intimidating thing held in a peculiar sheath. That very same image was etched into his mind when Matthew looked at himself, unable to understand why that symbol of virility, the very thing that made stallions exalted as sexual spirits, was glaringly absent.

Matthew shook his head, trying to clear his mind. The effort of trying to peer at himself was exhausting - he was still very much in pain, and his head began to throb from bending so awkwardly. He concentrated, instead opting to explore his body mentally; he had always been able to "flex" his member before, so why should it be any different now? Matthew closed his eyes, inhaling deep, heavy breaths as he concentrated on the limbs of his body. He tensed the muscles in his forelegs, the sinewy tendons contracting just as he desired. He tried to clench his hands only to find the peculiar feeling of a missing limb - his hooves were quite immobile, and though there was dull pressure within their cores, it wasn't something he could exactly manipulate.

Confident that he had at least _some_control of his body, Matthew concentrated next on his groin, flexing his pelvic muscles as he used to be able to. The sensation was much more apparent - his rump, a hundred times more powerful than before, felt incredibly tense as he flexed, the latent strength within himself more obvious than before. Despite this, there was a strange feeling - or lack of feeling - within his groin. He tensed again, but still nothing in the expected area. However, there was a different feeling closer to his rump, and it flushed Matthew with heat and lust each time he tensed. It felt as though another part of him, inside himself, was clenching down each time he flexed, pressing inward. He couldn't help but feel heated by the sensation, and he nickered lightly as he did so, forgetting the presence of his peers for just a moment...

"Um... er... Dr. Rochter, he's... she's, uh... " Tim turned his head, averting his eyes as he stepped away from the mare. "Is he... she... supposed to be, erm, winking?"

Dr. Rochter stepped towards Matthew's rump, the horse seemingly unaware of the two beside her. The scientist brushed away the long train of Matthew's tail, the shimmering blackness raised high into the air as the mare flagged her tail.

"Ah, no, that's yet _another_side-effect it seems..." Dr. Rochter pressed a finger against the lips of the mare, who let out another low, reverberating nicker. Thick, sticky fluid dripped as the scientist drew her finger away, and she grimaced slightly. "Yep. Seems like not only is he a _she,_but _she_seems to also be in heat."

Ungh... Winking? Heat? The words seemed so irrelevant, so inconsequential right now. Matthew tensed again, the feeling of her own body too much to ignore. It was easy to get lost in the new sensations, the flushing heat that spread into her body, into her mind, like the trickling of a hot spring. The pleasure was all-consuming - He didn't care that he was a horse, or that he was a girl now. She only wanted more, more pleasure, something to send her into the next plane of intensity. She needed a stallion, wanted a stallion to fill her up, take her, give her the foals she's always wanted... She could almost smell him coming, a distant scent in the wind that energized her skin and made her shiver.

Matthew flagged higher, the tips of her tail tickling the tender skin of her backside. She could feel her own slickness, the readiness to be taken, and she spread her back legs, the aching pain from before drowned out by the intense desire. The light clamoring behind her only increased the lust, and she clenched again, imagining the stallion that was coming, erect and ready to take his new mare. She backed a step and braced again, hoping for the sweet embrace any moment now...

"Hey, quit that!" A hard slap and stinging pain on her rump brought the mare out of her misty thoughts as she jumped forward, nearly hitting the metal bar of the slot door. Matthew turned her head, looking back at her assailant only to see Dr. Rochter with a lead rope swinging at her side.

"I'm gonna guess, 'Can't control self' is another side-effect of being a horse, eh?" She swung the rope around like a bolas, the end-knot coming perilously close to Matthew's behind again. "No more of that now. I'm hoping you're still human in there, but let me know if you need to be tied down to a post instead." Dr. Rochter swung the rope back into her opposite hand and stretched it taut threateningly.

A thought occurred to Matthew: Dr. Rochter couldn't tell if she was still human on the inside, but that's because Matthew couldn't speak.

I can still write though... the mare thought, glancing down at her oversized hooves. She dragged one in the dirt, forming a dash underneath her. She sidled sideways, dragging her hoof diagonally, then vertically, forming a crude 'N' in the dirt. The next letter, more complicated, stretched Matthew's shoulder, the pain from before coming back as she struggled to create a circle. She backed away, allowing Dr. Rochter to see the word in the dirt below.

"...'No?' No what?" Dr. Rochter crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed by the display. "Gonna need to be more specific than that. Better hurry too." She turned her head to the horizon, the sun reaching down on its way beneath the plains. "Gonna get dark real soon."

Matthew sighed audibly, her nostrils flaring. It would take ages, but she figured she had no choice in her ability to communicate. She dragged another hoof through the dirt, slowly beginning the long process of asking questions that needed answers...

---

The past few hours went by in a frustrating mix of poor spelling, mistranslations, and bad communication as Matthew attempted to glean all she could from the three scientists. Her shoulders ached from the constant movement, and she longed for the release of night, but she was glad for the long conversation - angry, but glad. Dr. Rochter had been fully aware that the change was going to happen, but assured him that the other two side-effects - being a girl and being in heat - were totally unintentional. It wasn't much in the way of comfort, but at least he knew she wasn't totally malicious. Still, being lied to was upsetting, to say the least, but Dr. Rochter made clear that the changes would be reverted by the time the morning or noon came around.

Dr. Rochter had to use a flashlight for the last question, a poorly made, 'W' 'U' 'T' 'N' 'O' 'W' drawn into the dirt below.

"Well, now..." She looked at Patrick and Tim, both sitting against the metal railing and dozing idly. "Now you just have to sit tight and wait for this to pass. I'll leave one of the boys here to watch you."

She gently kicked Tim, jostling him from his light sleep and disturbing Patrick in the process as well. "Tim, you're gonna stay here with Matt. Make sure she's comfortable and has everything she needs. Speaking of which..." Dr. Rochter moved to a small bucket inside the overhead slot, prying it open and dumping its contents into a trough inside Matthew's stall. "This is your meal for tonight."

Matthew snorted, once again insulted by the scientist, and was ready to knock over the trough when the scent of oats, hay, and grain filled her nostrils, the sweet scent actually somewhat appetizing. Matthew stared down at the trough, filled with a mixture of brown and tan pellets. It certainly didn't look appealing, but there was no denying the smell... she bent down, gently grasping a few of the pellets in her lips, and began to chew. The awkward feeling of missing teeth is places she fully expected them to be in was odd, but after a moment the pellets were crushed, releasing their tastes on her tongue.

Not bad... not at all.

She dug into her trough, easily snapping up large portions of the pellets, as Dr. Rochter attended to her colleagues. The woman extended a hand to Tim, the hefty man still groggily forcing himself up after hours of waiting.

"You know where the bed is inside the facility. Make yourself comfortable." Dr. Rochter looked back at the large mare, eagerly snapping away at the feed. "No need to watch her all night, just... make sure nothing happens. You hear anything, you check, alright?"

Tim nodded, rubbing his eyes as he stood up and made for the complex. Patrick wavered as he stood, and stretched his arms into the sky, his man-bun slightly disheveled after sleeping against the metal bar. Dr. Rochter approached him, arms at her sides.

"You have a homework assignment instead Pat." She motioned her head towards the complex. "Download the data, analyze what happened, where, and why. I want this to be consistent work." She patted Patrick on the shoulder, his usual apprehension seemingly stilled by his own lethargy.

Dr. Rochter turned as Patrick went off to collect the data, going back towards the mare in her slot. Matthew's ears twitched as she heard a creak, the rusty metal bars of the slot closing, and she stopped mid-chew to look back at the doctor closing the doors of the overhead. Matthew rushed over, her chest pressing against the bar as Dr. Rochter hinged it into place.

Hey hey hey, what the fuck man?

Matthew whinnied, the indignation of being locked into the room too much to bear.

"Sorry about this - just doing it for your own safety." Dr. Rochter smiled at Matthew - it was hard to tell if she was being malicious or genuine, but it annoyed Matthew either way. "It's just for one night anyway... So have a good one, and I'll see you in the morning."

She idly waved as she sauntered towards the front of the building, the lack of building lights making it difficult to see in the darkness. Matthew's vision, improved when looking from one eye only as she had discovered, was still not enough to see in the darkness of the crescent moon. Within moments, she was out of sight, and Matthew was left alone in the overhead.

---

It had proven more difficult than initially anticipated to force herself to sleep. The mare, her senses heightened and unused to her new abilities, was finding herself distracted by the slightest things - a cicada in the distance, the sound of cars along the highway, and she even once thought she heard a rattlesnake. It was hard to tell with the influx of stimuli, but not knowing made it all the more difficult to feel comfortable. The pain, now only the barest of aches affecting her body, nonetheless contributed to her discomfort.

She took to her trough again, the scent still sweet despite now being exposed to the dusty air for hours. It really was remarkable - she couldn't remember having better food as a human, but she thought that maybe horses just tasted things different. Nearly all of it was gone though, and the nagging thought of not being fed enough irritated the mare - she was massive, a Clydesdale, so wouldn't it make sense to get her more food? It seemed as though Dr. Rochter hadn't taken that into account, Matthew sighed, as the last pellets disappeared in a gulp.

With no food, there was woefully little to do within the slot. Matthew tried to distract herself by lifting the trough up with her nose as a small display of strength, but it was simply too menial and mundane to be fun for more than an attempt or two. At one point, she began exploring her body again, concentrating on the individual parts to get a feel for it all, when she began to feel the same heat from before seeping into her mind, melting away the logic and reasoning and leaving only the desire. It was easy to slip into the warm embrace of forgetfulness and succumb to the lusty paradise of her imagination... She could already feel herself becoming wet, slick, and ready for her next mate...

She snapped away from the thought, bringing herself back into the cold reality of the stall, and pressed her head against the rusty metal.

Ugh... so bored. Not tired. Should've left the gate unlocked so I could at least run around...

Matthew started, her eyes wide with an idea. The door... it wasn't locked. It was just a low hinge, way down on the lower side of the metal plate. She looked over the edge of the bar, and sure enough, a few feet down, the thick metal hinge stuck out, slotted into place. Matthew craned her neck down and reached - she had prepared for a struggle, but found that the hinge was surprisingly not as far as expected. It would be nearly impossible for a normal horse to reach, she mused, but for a giant like her, and especially one possessed of direct purpose, it wasn't even all that much effort. Matthew's teeth grabbed onto the hinge, tasting of dirt and iron, and she tugged. The metal made an ugly screech as it slotted to the opposite side almost immediately - Matthew had not taken complete account of her own strength and managed to push it faster than intended. The racking metal sound echoed in the darkness, and for a moment Matthew expected a light within the facility to show up, with Tim rushing out a moment later. Thankfully, the stocky graduate student seemed to be completely unaware - Matthew wondered if the bedroom was close to the lab. It'd be convenient to have such soundproof walls between him and her.

Matthew nosed the door, pushing out gently as it creaked and clamored, opening it up just enough to squeeze out without too much trouble. With her massive size, it was still quite a ways, but she managed to leave the stall without too much tumult. Her hoofbeats on the ground seemed to shake the earth with every step - Matthew feared that the noise would somehow reach Tim. For the first few minutes she proverbially tiptoed, every step seeming to be the one that alerted Tim to her escape, until the facility was nearly a hundred yards away, or so it seemed. Only the barest hint of light on the building made it visible to Matthew, and she figured she was far enough to drop the stealth.

The sounds and smells from before - the chirping of insects, the smell of the plants - it all seemed somehow more clear, as though the freedom from the overhead afforded some sort of clairvoyance. At the very least the smell of rusty metal was a distant scent on the wind, Matthew mused. She felt the urge to run, to give into her desire to gallop, but quashed the instinct - it would be too dangerous. She wasn't completely used to her body, and the nighttime didn't afford the safety of actually being able to see where she was going. Matthew snorted, disappointment ebbing his thoughts, when on the wind a different scent reached his nostrils.

The musk, a hearty, pungent smell of dirt, sweat, and a dash of something Matthew couldn't quite describe, seemed to light her on fire. Her muscles tensed, her vulva instinctively contracting as her thoughts became heady, misty, consumed by the thoughts of mating and the desire to foal. Matthew concentrated on the cool of the night, trying to wean the fiery passions within her mind, but it seemed impossible to withstand. Her mind liquified, caught up in the strange flame of passion and instinct. The dangers of the night suddenly seemed so much less dangerous, and the world evaporated in the heat of her body.

The scent seemed as clear as day in the coolness of the night, and Matthew was pulled, inexorably, towards the wonderful musk, her mind of a singular purpose. Her teats seemed to become more sensitive, the wind's barest touch already sending shivers up into her core, and she dripped from her vulva, her horniness bared for any to see. She flagged, her tail presented high even with no stallion around, and she slowly continued to walk into the direction of the scent. It seemed that she could taste the stallion already, and as Matthew continued to walk, her thoughts began to coalesce into something else entirely.

Matthew, her head still a whirlwind of fire and lust, realized something in a moment of calm, collected desire: she wanted this. _He_wanted this. The horse was controlling Matthew, but it was making him, her, want it, and she admitted it to herself, knowing that there was nothing more that he wanted right now than to be filled by a stallion's cock, to breed. Her coat slicked ever-so-slightly, the heat of her body too much for the cool night's air to contain, and still she continued forward, ready for her stallion.

The sound of snorting and light nickering made Matthew's ears twitch, flicking towards the source of the sound, picking up on the hoofbeats and the amount of horses. She could smell them all, a small herd - maybe the one from before, near the research center. Four females.. one male. Uncut. A real stallion. Free-roaming or owned by the facility, it didn't matter at the moment. Matthew slowly walked towards the stallion in the darkness, her footsteps reverberating on the earth below, the heat in her body rising. She sauntered over, her rump swaying back and forth - she didn't know if it was sexy, or if the stallion even cared, but it felt right. It felt good to swing and sway, to show off her assets, hoping the stallion could see and understand how much he _should_want her. She could see the other mares, even in the darkness, and she could see that they were paint, sorrel, bay... Matthew felt like her complete blackness, her size, the _dominance_she could have over these mares, made her more worthy than any of them.

Matthew nickered at the stallion, and saw as his eyes turned to her, glinting in the moonlight. She tensed, her vulva winking again, and she knew that he could taste her, gather up her scent on the wind. He curled his lip and nickered, pawing the ground in anticipation, and Matthew nickered back, deeper even than the stallion's. He was black-coated, a deep black like her own, flecked with brown dust from his gallops in the desert. He was also smaller - much smaller, in fact - but she knew he'd take her anyway; she could sense how badly he wanted it too, could taste the pre forming on his erecting cock already. The scent of his musk flowed back to Matthew, and her lip curled instinctively, locking in his wonderful scent as her backside clenched. She wanted him now.

Matthew swerved, her body having a mind of its own, and the barest remnants of Matthew's human mind told her to stoop down as she splayed her legs - the smaller stallion needed the help. She glanced back again and nickered to him, the seductiveness of her call unmistakeable, even to a human.

Take me... I want it so bad. Fuck me you beau- Ah!

The stallion pressed his nose into her backside, his thick tongue rolling onto her vulva. His hot breath on her bits made her reel, the feeling of his tongue pressing against her clit almost too much to handle. It seemed almost masterful of the stallion as he lapped at her, pushing his tongue deep into her folds as she clenched down onto his muscle. He nickered, and the sensation of his lips vibrating on hers drove her into further ecstasy. She nearly tripped on herself as her body convulsed, her splayed legs almost splaying out too far. Thick, stringy fluid dripped from her vulva, and Matthew realized she came, the fluid partially landing on the stallion's nose. He curled his lip again, and Matthew drank in the scent of the stallion, the sight of him and his enormous girth beneath him. She felt the fatigue of cumming instantly vanish as his cock poked out from beneath his undercarriage - for a relatively small stallion, he seemed to be well-endowed. It set Matthew's loins ablaze once again, and Matthew righted herself for the next onslaught.

The stallion nipped at Matthew's rump, a light, playful nip that made Matthew shiver and contract, the muscles of her legs shaking as she readied herself for his weight. He placed his muzzle atop her rump, bent upwards due to her size, and jumped up. The full weight of his body crashed down onto Matthew with a gasp, her shaking legs locking into place as she took him atop herself. He inched forward, the tip of his cock pressing against her inner thigh - Matthew shifted in place, pushing her rump in the direction of his shaft as he clamored to gain purchase on the Clydesdale mare. She stooped lower, and the stallion bit into her mane, eliciting a shrill whinny from Matthew - the bite hurt, but the pleasure far outweighed the pain. The black stallion pumped again, pushing against Matthew's clit, barely brushing underneath her vulva. Matthew lowered herself again, nearly falling to her knees with the effort, her legs wobbling under the weight. The stallion pulled back again, and ,with finality, thrust hard into the slick, wet folds of the mare.

Matthew's knees buckled, and she fell, her immense weight rocking the earth. She whinnied again, crying out from the burst of sensations, the deep filling feeling of the stallion's cock within her. Even knelt down, Matthew was more than tall enough for the stallion - he thrust again and again into her nether, tirelessly drawing back as far as he could manage before pushing into the mare again. The mare could only reel, grunting and moaning at the sensations, a nicker escaping her throat every few seconds as she was sent spinning into a world devoid of anything besides the most base of desires. Matthew, for a moment, ceased to exist, and he left behind a creature constructed of pure lust and passion, vanishing into the night on a ride of pleasure.

It seemed to go on forever, the stallion pulling in and out of the mare in a cacophony of grunts and whinnies. Matthew cried out again, cumming for what seemed like the sixth time in only a few minutes, as he continued to pound at her, unnaturally durable for a stallion. Matthew could feel it coming again, the cry in her throat rising, until she felt a new pressure within her. He was growing, larger and larger, and deep down she knew he was going to finish, going to fill her with his seed in her womb. She suppressed her cry, uses the last vestiges of her strength to suppress the oncoming orgasm she felt, waiting for his cock to grow and flare inside of her. It throbbed, hot and heavy, as the stallion pushed in, and, for a moment, he stopped, lowly nickering at the Clydesdale before him. She clenched down as his cock as he pulled out one last time, his member slick with her fluids. The stallion thrust forward, as hard as Matthew could handle, and his massive flare exploded within the mare as she snapped down upon his cock, her own clenching, rippling orgasm syncing with his. She could feel the white hot flow of his seed within her, the fluids deep within her womb, a warm trickle flowing onto and outside of her vulva. Her clit winked as it clenched over and over again upon the stallion's manhood, milking every last bit it could.

Matthew nickered again, a barely audible noise that weakly floated from her lips. All of the orgasms, all of the sensations... it overwhelmed her, and as she felt the stallion atop of her slide off, falling to the floor in a daze, she felt herself tilt. The world began to swim once again, and she was lost to its inky blackness as she dozed off.

---

Matthew awoke to darkness, a wet, flowing feeling rousing her from her sleep. Her body ached, in more ways than one - the heady scent of the stallion was still there, and almost immediately she felt herself contract in desire. She lifted her head from the floor, and tried to clear her head, wondering where she even was - it was still almost completely dark, but the very first signs of sunlight began to shine unto the earth, giving the barest hint of day. In the distance, Matthew noted, was the facility - barely a blip on the horizon, but easily reachable, especially as a horse.

Matthew clenched again, and suddenly her thoughts became mush again; the desire to mate was still extremely strong, and the scent of the stallion's musk was exceedingly pervasive. Matthew nickered loudly, calling out the stallion who had disappeared from her side. A moment passed... and a nicker in the distance, along with the sound of steady hoofbeats, began to approach. The black stallion, light dust coating the side he fell upon, quickly trotted from beyond the horizon, his herd having traveled a ways away.

Still within earshot... Oh, hellooo hand... some... mm...

Clear thought faded away once again as the stallion, fully erect and ready, brushed his face against the mare's own. Matthew, taken aback, brushed back, and bumped against the smaller stallion, who nickered and nipped at her neck. Matthew nipped back, barely grasping the tip of the stallion's skin in playful banter, as the stallion reared and trotted around the mare, looking regal for her in the dim sunlight.

The sun continued to rise over the horizon - Matthew absently acknowledged that she needed to get back, and soon, but couldn't help but stare at the stallion circling around her. The curve of his neck, the way his coat shone like her own, the sinewy strength of his body... She could feel herself slick and moisten, her folds once again enjoying the idea of having this specimen of a stallion back in its embrace.

I... should get back. Matthew thought, the pressing notion of time running out all too real. It was too much to handle though... He looked too good. Smelled too good.Felt too good...

Fuck it.

Matthew splayed her legs, the lightest drips of her juices bringing the stallion back into her rump, and the stallion, ever eager to oblige this random, horny mare, stepped sprightly into her embrace.

---

"Tim! Tim where is she?"

Dr. Rochter raised her hands into the air, exasperation and desperation leaking into her panicked voice. "I told you to keep an eye on her!"

"You said I could go inside until I heard something!" Tim said defensively, sheepishly looking down at the floor as Dr. Rochter ran around the overhead. "I didn't hear anything last nigh-"

"Of course you wouldn't! You can sleep through an explosion! I should've known better than to leave you wit-" She stopped, staring down the horizon as Pat and Tim joined in.

Matthew trotted lightly, the three figures in the distance standing stock still and staring at her as she neared. The distance closed so much more quickly than she could have ever imagined on foot - being a horse was quickly becoming a rather pleasant - and pleasurable - experience, Matthew mused. The fact that it was almost over almost made her a little sad. Almost.

She could hear the doctor yelling from a mile away, but only now could make out her words as the black Clydesdale finished the last gap.

"You idiot! Do you have any idea how worried we were? I can't believe you'd be such an irresponsible, selfish..."

The list of insults and expletives continued for a minute, a time Matthew spent relishing his presumably last few minutes of equine-hood. It was nearly noontime, and the sun rose high into the middle of sky.

Dr. Rochter pressed her hands palms downward towards the ground, breathing as she did so. "Ok. Ok. No harm done. You're safe. Everything is alright." She pressed a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose before continuing on. "As reckless as you were, at least you're alive. And still a horse - it wouldn't do to have you running around naked out there."

I already am naked though

Matthew snorted and nickered, her best attempt at light-hearted laughter in her equine form. She was in an inexplicably good mood, despite the admittedly strange experience of last night. Perhaps not so much in spite of, but rather because of, she thought. It was wonderful, and she felt like somehow she had connected to that stallion in the dark, a random stallion she had never seen before and probably will never see again. It was a gloomy thought, but she brushed it aside - the horse probably wouldn't remember her anyway, and she'd be glad to be human again.

"I guess all we can do now is play the waiting game. Tim, go fetch some spare clothes or a blanket. Pat, keep going on that data analysis. No sense in wasting time."

The two student rushed off, and in a moment Tim returned with a blanket, apparently unable to find clothes within the facility.

Dr. Rochter unfolded the blanket and tossed it over Matthew - it was woefully small, but she imagined it'd be bigger on her human form. The scientist turned to Tim again and motioned towards the wall, which, until now, Matthew hadn't noticed had a section of wall painted entirely different than the rest of the wall. Tim squatted in a corner, messing with something that was invisible to Matthew when she heard a deep thrumming, as though something mechanical were operating just beneath them. A moment later, the wall split, and inside was... the room Matthew had been set in when he first transformed. She had been right about it being an elevator after all.

"You can wait in there until you change back. We'll leave the door open and send you back down to the lab when the reversion starts." Dr. Rochter patted Matthew on the side, and walked off with Tim. "See you in a bit!"

The pair disappeared around the corner of the facility and into a side-door. Matthew wondered why they didn't just use the elevator all the time - seemed simpler than taking an eight-minute walk down a hallway, but she figured they had their reasons. Matthew inhaled, enjoying the enhanced senses of a horse one last time, then exhaled and stepped into the room, feeling the bobbing and bouncing of the elevator as her weight came down upon it.

Five minutes passed, each second counted by Matthew as she lay down, legs splayed out in front of her on the porcelain ground. She figured it'd be better to change back while lying down than standing, but every second that went by seemed to last forever as she lay still on the floor. Ten minutes went by, but still nothing. Thirty minutes. An hour. Two hours. Matthew stood up, walked around, walked outside of the elevator, and back inside, the sun itself the only real measure of time Matthew had as it began its downward arc along the sky. Something was wrong.

Why is this taking so long?

Matthew bumped against the wall with the intercom, the camera nearby it shaking as well. A burst of static came through, followed by Dr. Rochter's voice laced with concern.

"Yes, this is... odd." The static-y voice replied, apparently understanding Matthew's bumping question. "The enzyme can't sustain itself for more than sixteen hours, not normally. You should have changed back by now. Unless..." Her voice trailed off, the static consuming it.

The intercom burst back to life again. "Matthew, you didn't... _do_anything last night, did you?" It was Pat's voice this time, timid and apprehensive. Matthew hesitated, unsure of what he meant, instead choosing to raise her eyes towards the camera.

"What I mean is... you didn't, er, meet another horse during the night? By meet, I, er, mea-"

"Oh for Christ's sake, did you engage in sexual activity with a horse last night Matt?" Dr. Rochter's voice, blunt and irritated, piled over Pat's.

Matthew stared forward, unsure how that would affect the transformation. She didn't think it'd be any harm to have a little fun... But she was obligated to tell the truth to Dr. Rochter, if only to help herself. Matthew nodded, her head bobbing up and down in heavy deliberation.

"Of course," Dr. Rochter's voice came back, cold and cynical. "Well, you can stop waiting now. You're gonna be like that for a while."

Matthew tripped over her hooves.

What?

She shook her head, raising it again at the camera in clear questioning.

"The enzyme reacted with the new homeostasis of your body. You're pregnant. And you're gonna be a horse until you're _not_pregnant."

Preg... nant?

Matthew's thoughts vanished, and she was hit by the extreme reality of her actions. She had never thought it could be possible... thought there'd be no way something like that could happen. It seemed unbelievable, ridiculous even. Yet, with all that's happened... and Matthew still not changing back, she didn't know what to think.

Matthew, numbed by the shock, could still hear the sneering irritation in the scientist's voice, rising over her colleagues, Tim in particular, when suddenly she stopped, the static of the intercom falling silent for a moment.

"This... could present a new opportunity." Her voice was sweet and lilting once again, and she continued on. "If you let us study the baby, we'll take care of you _and_your foal."

Matthew looked up at the camera, not fully registering the words of the scientist. Her foal... Matthew thought of the random black stallion, handsome and confident in his stride. Her foal would look like him, or like her, a stranger in a beautiful body. It felt warm, thinking of how beautiful her foal would be, and something within Matthew knew it would be ok. All of it would be ok if she and her foal could be together.

"Well?"

Matthew, bleary-eyed and exhausted, nodded at the camera.

All this for some credits... Matthew thought, her head throbbing painfully. Yet, even though she knew it to be the horsey instincts, the mare within her, the part of her that she sheepishly admitted she had come to love in the short day she had been with it, she still loved her foal the moment she knew it to be there.

All this for some credits... and entirely worth it.