FSE

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Customized Companions

"First one's still almost completely human," the salesman explained. "Y'can call 'im Tony if it pleases you."

I kept my distance from the chest-high wooden fence. Tony still had arms with which to reach. If I wasn't careful, he might try something desperate. He certainly _looked_desperate enough. The scrawny man was pacing back and forth at the back of his stall with a wild look in his eyes. Other than his complete nudity and ragged appearance, his darkened nails and pointed ears were the only tells that he belonged in a stall like this one.

"Wolf? Cat? What will Tony become?" I asked, careful to keep my tone professionally disinterested. Revealing to John the type of product I was interested in this early in the game would cost me my edge when the haggling began.

"Dog," he grunted. "Forgot the breed. I can look into it if he's caught your eye."

"That's alright, for now. I'm ready to move on."

Tony's eyes widened as I turned away from his stall. He seemed to realize that his one chance was about to walk away. He all but dashed toward me, only stopping when one of our guards raised a baton warningly. By the way he shied back, I knew he'd been broken in despite his evidently short stay.

"No, no, miss, please, listen!" Not even the threat of the baton could stop his frantic babble. "There's been a mistake, I didn't sign up to be an animal, I was gonna be a male escort, a, a professional prostitute, not some pet half-man, half--"

A casual gesture from John had the guard unlocking the gate to the stall with his weapon brandished. Tony's explanations quickly devolved into terrified pleas to be left alone. The guard flipped the latch and swung open the gate. Tony quieted as he shrank away. The gate closed and the latch went back on.

"They learn quickly here," I noted.

John tipped me a smile featuring a golden tooth. "I got a staff of fine guardsmen here. Pay 'em well to do the job well. 'course there's as little physical enforcement as necessary, but some of the spirited crop need a firm hand. Don't know they're animals yet."

"I see," I said neutrally. Inside, I felt a silent thrill at the way the stall occupants were treated. Inhumanely. Brutally. Like dumb beasts that would fuck you or kill you if they didn't have the fear of God put into them. That same thrill had attracted me to this...facility.

The next stall was relatively dim; its window had been shut. Darkened glass extended from the top of every wall all the way to the modified barn's ceiling. The only way out was the gate. At the top of the stall, far out of reach, thin metal bars ran parallel from wall to wall. Otherwise, the stall was like all the others. Bite drinker of water. Feeding bowl. And, of course, the beast himself.

I peered at the creature in the gloom for a few seconds, puzzling out what animal he was going to become. John was quiet. He'd picked up on my desire to figure it out for myself. No doubt many of his clients enjoyed the challenge.

"Bat," I pronounced with confidence.

"Ding ding."

The individual in the stall might still be called a man, but he was certainly no longer human. His pale skin had been obscured by a coat of mousy fur. His limbs were thin, with the beginnings of translucent wings stretching between them. He even had a short tail extending into what would soon be his tail membrane. His head was particularly inhuman, with a deformed nose, enlarged ears, and sharpened teeth. I could see those whenever he snarled at my host, John. Which was constantly.

"He's about twenty percent," John said as idly he returned the stare of the bat-creature. "By fifty, I reckon he'll be sleeping upside-down. Maybe have echo...whatever-you-call-it. Can't say for sure, bat's an unusual order. Only the second bat we've had."

"Not my cup of tea," I said shortly.

"You know we've got just about any species your pretty heart might desire over in the main warehouse. These displays only help with showing what they look like at each stage in the process."

"I know. A twenty percent alligator will look about as changed as this twenty percent bat. I get it."

He chuckled. "You just don't like bats, huh? Can't blame ya."

"Let's move on?" I suggested. The lower percentages were not what I was here for.

Before the occupant of the next stall came into view, my nose wrinkled at the stench despite the thoroughly air-conditioned barn interior. I soon saw why. The black coat of fur with the solitary white stripe from head to tail immediately gave away his destination species. This beast was fifty percent, or well on his way. The transformation had granted him his species' signature defense mechanism, that was for sure.

"Dammit, sorry 'bout the smell, miss," John said with an irritated bite to his voice. "We...conditioned 'im not to spray since the incident this morning, but you know how hard it is to get rid of that skunk smell."

I decided that personal comfort was more important than a show of strength. I pinched my nostrils shut. "No problem."

The creature noticed our arrival from where he huddled on a bed of straw in the far corner. He immediately got to all fours and waddled closer to the stall's gate on shortened arms and legs. The skunk-man looked caught between bipedal and quadrupedal motion judging by the odd length of his arms. Forelegs might have been a more apt term at this point.

"Please," he said in a miserable, inhuman voice around his partial snout. He sounded like he'd be more comfortable with grunts and growls than the English language. "Don't want to change more. Buy me. I'll be good. I'll please you well."

For emphasis, he slowly reared onto his hind legs to display his fuzzy testes. I'm no expert on the size of animal testicles, but these looked rather prodigious for a skunk. I glanced at John.

"Hypergonadism's a side effect of our normal treatment track," he explained. "Causes more intense and frequent urges to mate and what-not. Most of our clients prefer it that way, but we tailor our treatment to the client's liking."

"What other modifications do you do?"

John scratched the stubble on his cleft chin. "We can keep or take their ability to understand language. Some like 'em dumb. Same thing for intelligence. It's a sliding scale, really. We can also change the size and shape of their penises and testicles if we get 'em early enough. Whatever species you want, however big you want."

He smirked at the end, but I was too deep in my private world of possibilities to comment on his lewd mind. And who was I to judge? By the same token, I couldn't understand why anyone would want to take a skunk-man home with them, but my fantasies were far from ordinary themselves.

"Won't they keep transforming into their animal after they're sold?"

John shook his head. "We fix 'em at the percentage the customer likes 'em. We can always let 'em go longer if need be."

I liked the sound of that.

"I'd like to see the higher percentages. The more complete transformations. Have anything on display that's more...equine?" I didn't want to show my hand earlier than necessary, but I admit by that time my self-discipline was wavering. I was more than a little excited to see what I'd come to see.

"Sure do, right this way. I know just the one."

The walk took only a minute. On the way, I endured entreaties and requests for attention or purchase from about twenty stall occupants. Each had reached a different degree of transformation into whatever animal they were destined to become. As a result, some could speak perfect or near-perfect English, while others were little more than grumbles, snarls, yowls, or other bestial sounds I failed at putting a name to.

"Ssstay with me, you gorgeousss thing," hissed a man well on his way to being some species of large snake. "You'll be sssafe in my coilsss."

I quickened my pace. The way he smoothly kept pace with me along the fence of his cell was disturbing. Scales definitely aren't my thing.

The moment I saw him, I gasped and put a hand to my mouth involuntarily. He was six and a half feet of muscle. The thick black horns protruding from his skull might have crushed a human man's neck bones with their weight, but this beast's neck was like a tree trunk. A golden nose-ring gleamed where it hung from the black nostrils of his bull muzzle. The proud stance he assumed on his cloven hoofs only added to his air of confident masculinity. He had two monstrous fingers on each large hand, and he squeezed the air with anticipation as he eyed me. I imagined it was a tactic he used to entice potential buyers. It worked. I blushed.

Two guards were dedicated entirely to this stall. I could see why. One lapse in attention, and the thick stall fence could be torn apart and a guard knocked senseless by the bull-man's headbutt. One wore what I assumed to be a stun gun in a hip holster.

"Sorry, I'm not for sale," he said in an easy basso. "Though I promise John can find you a beast that's _almost_as sexy as I am." He flexed his gargantuan arms and I almost moved to unlock the gate so I could touch them.

John was grinning. "He gets special treatment for helping our business. A kind of demo model. We call 'im the Minotaur."

It took me a moment to find my voice. "I see why. He's standing on two feet easily, though. In fact he's mostly human in some ways, but mostly bull in other ways. That's abnormal, isn't it?"

The Minotaur answered for himself after turning around to show off his heavy testicles, ropey tail, and sculpted buttocks. "If you make a purchase, John will ensure that you get exactly what you desire. We have anthropomorphic treatments with multiple options. For example, I'm a 90% bull but only in certain places." He turned back around with a snort, then flexed his human-like pects.

Why hadn't I come to this place sooner? While the Minotaur was not exactly what I was looking for, it was pretty damn close. I'd allow John to finish the standard tour, but my mind was mostly made up. But who knew? Maybe my mind could be changed by what waited ahead. I asked John to lead on.

"Don't mean to be sexist," said John as we walked past more stalls, "but I like to show ladies the Minotaur at one point or another. He's a popular fella. We get plenty more guys than gals here, but the gals never leave without making a purchase or two after they've seen 'im."

"Hm," I said indifferently. We both knew I'd fallen right into his trap.

The next display we reached was two or three stalls combined into one in order to make room for a large pool. A river otter and a dolphin frolicked together within the waters. Their aquatic acrobatics were amusing to watch like in any old zoo. I peered close, but I could detect no humanity in their bodies. I raised an inquiring eyebrow at John.

"I won't try to sell you a water-lovin' species. Most prospective buyers can't even afford the equipment and habitat to keep 'em alive. I still wanted you to see this 'cause it shows off the similar effects of the obedience and simplicity treatments."

He jerked his chin at the pair. The otter was currently swimming circles around the dolphin near the bottom of the stone pool. "The otter's got full human intelligence, but he's a hundred percent obedient to his owner's commands. The dolphin on the other hand's only as smart as your typical dolphin. Not daft, but no human either. They're both fully transformed, but the otter's still got his human mind. The dolphin's just a dolphin at this point."

"You have that much control over the mind?" I asked, skeptical. "How can I believe you?"

He tipped me a wink before leaning over the wooden fence, cupping his hands to his mouth, and shouting at the pool. "Both of you, poke your heads out for our guest."

Only the otter complied, while the dolphin continued to propel himself lazily around the depths of the pool. A furry face poked out of the water's surface to look up at me. I imagined I could see a cheerful inquisitiveness in his expression, but the thought was colored by what I knew of the otter's origins.

"Go on, ask 'im something," John encouraged.

"Oh, alright then. What...what is eight minus five?" I asked the otter. I instantly felt silly for posing a mathematics question to a feral animal. Amazingly, the otter held up a webbed paw with only three fingers extended. It chittered at my expression before diving down to resume its playful romp with the dolphin.

"Incredible," I murmured. "So you can take away any amount of their cognitive abilities by the time the transformation is complete?"

"Sure can," John confirmed. "Naturally they still develop their animal instincts. That's why our display otter is so damn ottery. That's par for the course. The scientists haven't learned how to stop it yet. Although I heard we had a breakthrough in amplifying 'em, if you're lookin' for something like a hyperactive, nymphomaniac otter." He looked wistful for a moment. "In this business, you really learn to appreciate expressions like 'gentle as a lamb' or 'wolf down their food'."

"If I wanted a zebra hybrid that was smarter than a dog but not nearly as bright as a human, with total obedience to my every word, that would be no problem?"

"No problem at all," said John with a nod of his head. "A common treatment, highly sought after."

I soundlessly squealed with anticipation while keeping my face neutral. Oh, the things I would do once I had my pet. I wondered if I could command it to enjoy the naughty acts I made it perform, but I dared not voice my question.

"For curiosity's sake, what are some of the more recent sales you've made? What were the hybrids like?"

John leaned back against the aquatic enclosure's fence. "Let's see. Like I said, most of our customers are male. This month we sold a thirty percent fox-woman with absolute obedience but otherwise untouched. Sold a seventy or eighty percent tigress, a sixty percent lioness - we get cat-girl customers all the time. Last week was a ninety five percent rat that kept 'er intelligence and autonomy, but couldn't understand words. Funny thing is the guy wanted 'er human-sized, so now he's got a monster rat at home." He held up his hands. "Don't ask me why."

"What about your female customers?"

"Right, they mostly end up buying beasts like the Minotaur. A huge guy to dominate them. Someone in charge. Often full intelligence or close to it. Usually extra muscle, and almost always extra sex drive and penis size. If they don't go with smart anthro, they take fully transformed mindless sex-fiends. Your alpha wolf or your stallion."

"That's the trend I've seen," he amended. "I'm not making any judgments here."

"No, that's fine. I appreciate your honesty." We started toward the huge barn doors. For understandable reasons, they had multiple layers of security. A steel drop bar keeping the doors shut. An electronic lock wired to a keypad. Metal plating that wouldn't deform from heavy impacts or scratch from unnaturally thick claws.

John shielded the keypad from my eyes with one hand as he typed in the code. "So what're ya thinkin'? Got any ideas?"

I turned to survey the stalls and their inhuman occupants one last time. Images of the night's potential for entertainment rose unbidden into my mind, and I welcomed them. With sudden abandon, I dismissed thoughts of haggling strategy from my mind. Any price would be worth it.

"I'm ready to get my brains fucked out."