While Takafumi doesn't have a cock, he does have a tail and the little bastard keeps on giving him away! With stiffness, his new appendage wags and waves. Thumping loudly against the computer desk.
Each fleshy thwap sending Takafumi through the wringer of high school flavored memories.
Shitty afternoons jerking it in a public toilet. Crappy night under thin walls. Him and sex, him and his hand, only became real friends after he turned twenty. His family home more of an hotel than a real house. Obnoxious relatives and cackling neighbors jammed into every room and mat.
What need could he have,
the Watanabe boy,
for time alone?
There were a thousand reasons why Takafumi left his tiny hometown. The lack of space. The lack of respect. The need to work his member nice and slow without looking over his shoulder. And so, Takafumi doesn't feel unnerved by the words he's uttered to Cask, the phantom in his body. Because it is sex. Just sex. And it doesn't really matter who's the girl, right?
Silently, Takafumi thinks how long it will take. The sex.
Five minutes. Maybe twenty if Cask is lazy. Takafumi's cock isn't exactly a reigning champ at keeping it in.
And Takafumi a virgin in all meaning of the word.
No girlfriend. No one night stands. Not even a mixer-induced quickie from the few times he's gone to one.
Living in Tokyo makes him more than just the Watanabe boy. He's a working
NEET.
A man of his own domain and spending money.
And now to have that taken from him... Takafumi's head stews, male thoughts fighting with female impulse. And it's strange and scary how simple, how easy, he's taking to this new form. As if the gods were correcting a mistake. He's
the Watanabe girl.
One of many pink-faced sisters dragging home boys and happily eavesdropping on Mother and her friends. Never alone. Never not biting their lips and holding back their moans. Always with a boyfriend or a girl, swapping spit out on the bleachers and bribing him not tell Father.
Takafumi is still in the position he eased the phantom in.
Bent over his own desk. Thighs and hips a glow from faint rosy fingerprints bruising. The humiliation should make him red in the face. And yet, he's horny. Pink-faced. Perhaps his love life has only been in the shitter because he never met the right girl. And now he has. The right guy. Kinda. Thinking about gender and bodies is making Takafumi's head hurt. His legs are open. His hips rubbing restlessly against each other. Cock or no cock, Takafumi is hot all over. Sweat breaking out over his fair skin. Peach pale roasting into strawberry bright.
And his tail wags, fanning his need and female scent into the air.
Takafumi pants into the wood, the force of his breath shaking the desk slightly. Or it might be his body and upper chest causing the chaos. Arms and hands digging deep, nails claws. Shoulders and neck rocky like a boat on rough waters. Trembling in want. Quivering in need.
The glare of his three computer screens beam on his tipsy form. They reflect. They torment.
He sees all too clearly his new body. Large breasts. Dainty shoulders. Long red frizzy hair. Constellations made of sunny freckles along his collarbone. His horns, large and white and of a cow. They sit soundly on both sides of his head. The tips sharp and glinting in the modern light.
And as human-shaped he looked, there was no denying of Takafumi's feral form.
More of a persistent feel than something he could easily spot. Inhuman. Predatory. Some parts show under Takafumi's search. Muscles defined. Womanly assets firm and slight. Wild eyes. He looks deeper in them. Animal eyes. The sort that killed. The sort that struck first.
He is no farm cow but a thing of the wild.
And Takafumi's tail is wagging in the place of his cock.
He's hard. He's so hard. But the arousal isn't moving towards his groin. It's everywhere. His arms. His legs. Back. Front. The nape of his neck. The middle of his back. They all... tingle. And that may not be the right word for it. But they do. Excitement stirs within his blood. His nerves peak. Pores opening. Pheromones releasing. He sweats. He simmers. He lusts.
Takafumi pants harder. His body switching from confusion to anticipation.
Goosebumps swarm the freckled skin. The sensation both weird and right. If his family saw him now...
The Watanabe girl.
Takafumi scoffs. But hides into his arms. Face and more ready to be fucked into the desk. He might be blushing. He might be inching out his ass just a bit more. Not that he cares about the arrangement. Him being rutted by her. Him now a girl. Takafumi can't really envision what is going to happen. He only know his male perspective and what edited shots cheap internet porn had to offer. The woman moaning. Close ups of her pussy and gyrating body. But being on this end, waiting and wanting, it intoxicates him.
Takafumi blushes harder and, quietly, deliberately, presents his ass.
A slight shake. A deniable shake. But a shake all the same. Him wanting Cask to get on with it. Takafumi can feel her eyes, boiling him under her intense stare. Her breath mists across his shoulders. His skin as tensed as it can get. She's watching him flounder in her body. Around him, over him, Cask lingers, only watching. Not in him. Not taking him like a
mate
should. And Takafumi supposes, he has to be one to say something. Let Cask hear him
beg
for it. And that, that alone, makes him wet. He can feel his thighs become damp. His slit oozing out female fluid. It's hot and gooey, slipping and slathering down his needy fair hips.
But where did
that
word come from?
Mate.
He tries to think where that thought emerge. Why would
he
think it? He's still him. He is still Takafumi Watanabe, your average Japanese slacker. But his mind bubbles and burns, the need to sate lust rising over his need to know.
This was normal for a mating rite, his instincts inform.
The bull courts the mare. The bull waits for the mare to succumb to her rut. They breed for the goddess.
"Stop that." Takafumi shouts at the tail. Trying to keep cool. "You're ruining the moment here."
Because Cask hasn't fucked him yet.
He glares at the limb. Long and thin and white, the tail would've been cuter on a real girl. The very tip covered in red brush-like hairs. "Listen to me, you idiot. I can't concentrate. With you. Breathing
on me
and
not
sticking your
big nice cock
into my-" he sputters and dives right into a silent embarrassed shriek. "Ignore me. Just ignore me!" he growls out. "It's my cock and I can say stuff like that all the time." Takafumi babbles. "My cock is nice."
His traitorous tail wags even more.
"Why aren't you-" Takafumi starts to say. He isn't sure who he's talking to now. Her. The tail. Himself. But his mouth keeps going, lips burning all the while. "Look, I'm not interested in staying the whole night like this. Can we get on with it?" he swallows, the gulp loud in his ears. "Please."
"Please what." Cask's nose falls into his bushy locks, inhaling deeply. "I want to hear what you want."
"Does it really matter?"
He can hear the smile in her voice.
"Of course it does. Tell me how to make you feel good. Tell me how to make you mine."
Her words echo in his ears. His face feels flush. His breath faint. Just why did her words affect him so-
"I-" Takafumi's voice cracks. His tail switches tactics, choosing to arch across his back. Freely showing Cask a full view of where and why he needs her. Cool air skates across his yearning folds, Takafumi's overworked breath now a weak dwindling plea.
"I-I want," he tries again, "I need you to
fuck
me."
The tip of his tail dips low towards his soft mound. Primal and raw, an all-consuming instinct floods through his core. For a moment, Takafumi simply isn't. He's gone. His thoughts evaporates. His worries and more now dust rolling in the emptied out wilderness of his mind. The broodmare asserts himself in his body, a unmated heifer.
The broodmare's womb aches for seed. The broodmare longs for comfort and touch.
His sense's sharpen. The tail, on reflex, pushes apart his pink pussy lips. His scent has changed. Thick and hot and overpowering. The broodmare widens his legs further. He doesn't speak. This is a conversation of flesh. This is a conversation of yoking their bodies into one. He noses at the air, his tail whipped into a frenzy.
The broodmare's tail flicks across his dripping slit, slathering the brush part in his sweet juice.
Once wet, the tail finds its way to Cask. A mating rite. A show of interest.
Cask rubs her fingers across his tail, lips kissing along the coated limb. "You look beautiful like this, Husk. You wear my body well." Then she bites. Gently. Marking him with her teeth. "Signaling for me." Cask pulls his tail straight and winds the cow limb around her arm, stretching it even further.
Taut like a string, his tail spasms, trapped.
Cask makes her way down the length, nipping and biting until she reaches the tender flesh of his dock. The expanse of skin between his tail and rump. She slides her tongue up and down the sacred place, scenting and attending to the dock with care. The broodmare stomps in place, shaking everything nearby. The desk. The screens. The devices that fall and crack on the floor.
Her mouth grazes along the skin, teasing the empty broodmare.
Then Cask marks. Biting hard until the skin breaks. Blood spills down the bond-mark before it is lapped away by her soothing tongue. The broodmare's hips automatically tilt up, thighs and more trying to back into where Cask's cock might be. The first of many yoking to be had this night.
A finger slides into the broodmare's drenched hole. The sensation overwhelms him.
He squeezes around her, throwing his hips back and forth. Attempting to milk this finger inside her delirious walls. So sensitive and horny, the broodmare cums within seconds. Clenching to keep the digit in. Cask pats his head. The feel of her palm a brief respite to the flames stirring inside his body. He needs more. Wants more.
But for now, for now only, the broodmare ebbs away.
Takafumi's mind surfaces. Blurry and drunk in the secondhand afterglow, he groans into the desk.
"Was that it?" he rasps, body still strumming in lust and urge. "I don't feel like that was it." His back aches. His knees shake. He wants to be fucked on his back. He wants to be fucked on the floor, hips high and in receiving position for foals.
