Organized

Mystic magic of weird science has changed you, made of you into something so different and so much with similar feelings and ideals as when being totally human, you find what you are as both horrific and thrilling.

Sight, sounds, taste, and thoughts abound, if speech is impaled, and communication as you understood it then comes by asserting sensation of that animal to which you have become an organized part.

You can hear and do understand the complimentary words of the Professor as he stands and holding your body, fondles you, and makes verbal notations of how refined a male organ he made from a fool human.

Passions and straining thoughts of trying to cope with being the mighty male shaft of some Percheron stallion brings the animal to want and enjoy his male pride. He walks and you slap wildly from side to side, striking out at broad flanks and muscular thighs.

Loose of sloppy you hang much of the time, but become excited, rigid, and begin to want for those rare moments when the master above deems for you to sink into the hot depths of some needy mare. This becomes your one great delight in life, perverted by this, you give up all care or hope to be again human, and decide its fun to just hang loose of keeping a stiff upper extension, you do what is necessary to keep the master and you happy.

Tests made and all seems complete properly, the Professor sells his champion Percheron to a farm.

The Farmer needs not a stallion to rule the roost, but soon has him gelded, and with this the extra mentality hangs long, loose, and with only the one purpose, and that when with the release of a full bladder, the rush does not splatter on hoofs or legs.

One screwed dude!

Written by AdobeFats

Re-membering

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