Chapter 5

Country House

Chapter 5

My father ran from the room and made haste to the aid of Hayley.

Taylor and I, limited in motion as we were, were carried/dragged along behind by Bentley and Alfred, our cunt skirts sliding arousingly along the carpets, floors, and finally the lawns, leaving a slick trail.

When we finally arrived at the scene we found my father sitting on the ground, head in his hands and a transformed Hayley trotting around the grass. Trotting because my dear sister had been merged with her horse Barnabas. Where once there had been a slight, blonde haired girl saddled on a mighty stallion, now there was one creature that was a blend of the two.

I was relieved to see that merged-Hayley still had mostly had a human face: she had her blonde, curly hair, her pale skin, and her warm eyes shining with human intelligence. She also had long, mobile equine ears and a mouth, that while human in shape, was stretched into a blunt muzzle. Based on the way she smiled and whickered in greeting, I suspected, accurately, that my sister had lost the ability to speak.

Hayley's head was also much larger than before, expanded to the scale of her body which had the bulk and size of the horse Barnabas. Her head transferred to a long, wide neck that sunk into equine-looking shoulders coated in short brown fur. Instead of arms Hayley had equine forelegs that rippled in muscle and ended in hooves. Her breasts, greatly expanded and capped with animalistic teats hung heavily below her neck and between her forelegs. Her torso was largely that of a horse: furry and wide of chest, but tapering inward at her abdomen like a human woman before the flare of her mostly equine hips. Her hind legs were entirely the powerful hindquarters of a stallion. She also had a leather saddle which grew from her back and, as a final flourish, she had a long tail of her blonde curls.

Below her powerful body Hayley had the proud phallus and heavy scrotum and balls of the prize stallion Barnabas. She was exceptionally well hung, and based on the erection she was sporting, my sister was enjoying the sensations of her new body and genitals. As she pranced around, her horse tail flipped up showing the mottled, puffy cunt of mare. My little sister had become a huge, quadrupedal, hermaphrodite horse creature.

Taylor, getting over her shock more quickly than me, immediately launched into an interview of what happened with Mr. Mandle, Hayley's riding coach. He averted his eyes and explained that while Hayley was riding Barnabas through the jumping course, she and the horse had been struck by some manner of hypodermic darts. The darts, apparently carrying a payload of alchemy had caused the girl to sink into the stallion and for the two to merge into their new form. Mr. Mandle had shouted for help, getting the attention of loyal Bentley, before trying to find Hayley’s attacker. He ran for the abutting copse of trees, and hearing the desperate crash of someone fleeing through the woods, the riding coach offered pursuit, catching a glimpse of a shadowed man clothed in black. Mr. Mandle tripped on a root and lost the transformist in the thicket, but managed to find a discarded blowdart tube that must have been used in the attack. The man, looking deeply forlorn, begged our forgiveness for his failure.

I offered Mr. Mandle a brave smile, and told him that it was alright while Taylor chewed her enlarged lip thoughtfully, her eye roving in deep thought.

“Mr. Rycroft,” she eventually declared, “I believe I owe you an apology. You can’t be the transformist.”

My father looked up at us, eyes red and teary.

“Logistically you couldn’t have. If your man Bentley had came straight to your office for help…”

“Which I did,” Bentley offered.

“Then there is no way you could have been in your study with us and also fleeing through the woods from Mr. Mandle. You cannot be the culprit.” Taylor continued.

My father nodded. “I would never do this to my girls,” he said flatly.

“Yes, I suspect not,” Taylor soothed. “I thought that Molly and I may have been accidentally transformed, but Hayley was clearly the target here.”

I gasped as something occurred to me. “What if I had been the target in the conservatory and not Aunt Janice?”

Taylor studied the idea for a moment. “I think that may be unlikely, the garden seems an odd place to lay a trap for you. But it’s possible that you were a target and the transformist used your presence in the garden opportunistically to change multiple of their targets.”

“So what does this mean?” I asked.

“It means someone is trying to hurt your father by transforming his loved ones.” Taylor replied grimly.

“But who would do such a thing?”

“Elementary, Molly. Who is visiting your house that bears a professional and personal rivalry with your father?”

“Hoork,” growled my father.

***

We made all haste to the suite that Mr. Hoork was staying in. My father striding purposefully along and Taylor and I gliding along in his wake on our slick cunt-foot with increasing competence.

A few minutes later, and some help navigating stairs, we were outside Mr. Hoork’s chambers. My father reached to bang forcefully on the door and gave it a solid knock… which caused the unlatched door to swing inward. Taylor gave me a significant look as my father strode into the suite and shouted, “Hoork! Damn you! Show yourself!”

With no answer forthcoming we pushed our slippery body into the room. We surveyed the room, but saw no sign of Mr. Hoork; just my father pacing around furiously. “Hoork! Where are you hiding!?”

Taylor craned out her sinuous neck and tilted her head. “Listen,” she instructed quietly.

I strained my ears and heard a faint gurgling, bubbling sound. “The bathroom I asked?”

Taylor and I pulled our body into the adjoining bathroom and there we found what was left of Mr. Hoork.

Mr. Hoork, it seemed, had also been a victim of the transformist. Instead of the burly but slightly overweight magnate we found a living toilet. It seems that the man had sat for his daily bowel movement, and upon flushing, had released a transformative gas that merged him with his toilet. The gas had made the mans legs fuse the toilet pedestal, rooting him to the floor and house’s plumbing and made Mr. Hoork’s back and torso rear up, hunchback, to becoming a living toilet cistern. His face though, his face had become the toilet’s new bowl. Mr. Hoork his jaw stretch and elongate into a round upturned circle, his lips a kind of fleshy toilet seat, while his mouth hung lower, forming the actual basin of the toilet. The man’s eyes and nose remained, perched right where someone using a toilet would sit, so that the toilet-man would see their lowering asses and smell their excrement. I glanced into the toilet bowel-mouth and saw, under the water, that Mr. Hoork had retained his tongue. I gagged, this was truly a horrific transformation.

“Fuck!” my father said when he noticed.

“I guess he is innocent,” Taylor managed lamely.

***

We stared at one another wondering what to do, trying to conceive of who else could be responsible. What motive could there be to transform my father’s loved ones and his hated business rival? What unifying theme could there be? My father, after relieving himself in Mr. Hoork, was pacing thoughtfully while Taylor chewed on her lip and scowled. “Who could it be?” I wondered aloud.

And then we heard a commotion from down the hall.

“Reg!” my father shouted.

He grabbed our hands and dashed from the room, dragging us behind him like some kind of conjoined, pornographic sled.

He kicked the door to his friend’s suit and pulled us through.

To see that it was already too late! The transformist had struck again!

Uncle Reginald and his family had already been transformed. Fortunately, their new forms were not as extreme or humiliating as the fate of Mr. Hoork. Both Uncle Reginald and his son, Brant were conjoined to ‘Aunt’ Penelope. I say both were conjoined to Penelope, since the woman had been split in half, with part of her body stuck to each of the men. Uncle Reginald now had Aunt Penelope’s body from her hips up growing from his hips in a face-to-face configuration, as though they were in an embrace or dancing. Penelope had retained her soft, round ass in this transformation, and now Reginald’s penis, three feet long and flexible, but humanly narrow, grew from between his wife’s buttcheeks like a cats tail. Brant meanwhile had his mother’s body from the shoulders down growing from his butt like a humantaur. His upper torso was purely his, male and young and athletic, while his forelegs and fore-crotch were the penis and muscular legs he had before the transformation attack. Behind his original body, Brant now had Penelope’s armless torso growing from his backside, her large, slightly sagging breasts hanging heavily below him, and her legs, bent at the waist following him as hind legs. Aunt Penelope’s soft round ass and her pussy stuck out proudly behind him, making Brandt now an unexpected hermaphrodite.

The family looked stunned, but not horrified by their new circumstances. They were shuffling and moving and touching each other, trying to find out the nature of their changes. Uncle Reginald could feel his body and that of his wife’s conjoined torso, but had no control of Penelope. Brant could feel and control his whole body, his original and his new matronly posterior. Penelope could only control her torso growing from Uncle Reginald, but could feel the parts of her stuck to both her husband and her son. Penelope could also feel Reginald’s altered penis and apparently shared control of it with her husband. It was a bizarre new family dynamic.

“Reg… Penny… I’m so sorry…” stammered my father.

Taylor cut him off, taking a level headed command of the situation. “Mr. Burris, Mrs. Burris, Brant, did any of you see who did this to you.”

“Yes…” said Penelope, glancing back over her naked, spotted shoulder at us.

“It was a maid!” said Brandt stamping one of his mother’s former legs.

“Karen, I think.” said Uncle Reginald, who was the most frequent visitor. “She came into the room with a fire extinguisher and sprayed us with it…”

“Except,” murmured Penelope, “It must have been doctored. Spiked!”

Taylor and I glanced at my father who shrugged. “I don’t know why she would have done this… there has never been any sign of misbehavior or whatever this is before. She has worked for me for years...”

Taylor narrowed her one large eye, “Well we had better apprehend her before she causes any more mischief.”

***

Along with my father we moved into the hallway and all but immediately found Karen the maid. She was standing in the hallway wrinkling the hem of her French maid’s uniform looking worried and confused.

“What do you have to say for yourself!?” demanded my father loudly.

Karen jumped and looked at us nervously. “Wha-what? Did… did I do something?”

“You don’t remember?” Taylor asked suspiciously.

“I-I blacked out.” She said worry in her voice.

“What was the last thing you remember?” Taylor demanded.

“Well… I was dusting near the Mistress of the House….”

"Hello darling,” purred a new voice, “I do believe it’s your turn…”

I gasped in shock and looked along with everyone else up the hall. There stood another of the house’s maids: Elizabeth. Her eyes were glowing with a strange, purple light and she was smiling with a strange predatory look. She began to slink smoothly down the hall, one arm trailing along the wall and the other idly tossing a thin glass sphere filled with fluid. Our transformist revealed!

Elizabeth flashed her teeth, “You can’t imagine you escaped, sweet darling, can you?”

Except, I had known Elizabeth for over a year, and this creature while wearing her face was not behaving like her. Lizzy was a painfully shy and demure young woman, one who hid meekly in corners and murmured responses. This bold, provocative woman threatening us was nothing like her. “I don’t think that’s actually Lizzy,” I said quietly.

My father stepped in front of us, shielding us with his body.

Elizabeth stopped a few strides away, eyes flashing purple, arm cocked back to throw the glass sphere at my father. “You’ve owed me this for years!” she shrieked. And she hurled the glass sphere!

And Karen shoved past my father, intercepting the glass sphere with her body and slamming heavily into Lizzy!

The pair of maids fell to the floor, coated in the alchemical contents of the sphere, both already transforming. The two women began to flow together, merging with each other and their uniforms, squealing in orgasmic bliss the whole time. Their legs flowed together and became ostrich like, recurved and capped by large talons. Their hips swelled, merging with their skirts to become an ostrich like ball coverd in short black down and fringed with long white feathers. The back of the ball had a fan of longer black and white feathers and revealed a large and brilliant red cloaca. Their upper torso was covered in their four naked breasts and their four arms hung from their shoulders, forearms studded with plumage. Their necks grew side by side, nearly identical heads situated nearly cheek-to-cheek. Both women had grown larger mouths and sharp, elongated noses with long thin nostrils that sniffed the air while losing their eyes completely. Instead both women had gorgeous fathered plumage that grew in a small white crest, from just above their cheeks to long black feathers which draped back over their head and down backs. The merged maids stumbled to their new feet.

“What happened?” said the head with Lizzy’s meek voice.

“You transformed us you bitch!” squealed the head with Karen’s voice, nostrils flaring.

“And you transformed the Burris family.” Taylor surmised aloud. “Or rather neither of you did any transforming. Not really.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Elementary my dear Molly, the transformist has been using mind control to recruit unwitting agents.”

“Demons!” breathed my father.

“But who could even do such a thing?”

“I’ll show you! I know without a doubt who the culprit is!”

***

Chapter 6