The Bull's Claim

Room 206 was hot. Not from the temperature, but from need. Elias lay naked on the bed, his skin slick with sweat, hole twitching in anticipation. He had followed every instruction left the cup of his own piss beneath the bed, closed the curtains, whispered the name:

Vornak.

The door creaked open.

He stepped in like he owned the room. Two meters tall, black-furred and thickly muscled, with curling horns and a stare that pinned Elias to the mattress. His chest heaved with every breath, reeking of sweat, rut, and something deeper like old hay soaked in cum. His cock hung between his legs already heavy and hardening, thick and wet at the tip.

Elias moaned, just from the sight of it.

“On your back, slut.”

He obeyed.

Vornak climbed onto the bed like a predator, lips curling into a smirk. His tongue dragged up Elias’s spine, hot and wet. One massive hand grabbed his thigh; the other pressed his head down into the mattress. No teasing. No prep. The bull lined up and shoved his cock in brutally—slow, stretching, unstoppable. Elias screamed into the sheets.

But it wasn’t pain. It was rebirth.

Each thrust felt like it was pounding something deeper loose inside him. And then… it began.

Change.

Fur sprouted across Elias’s chest and thighs. Fingers cracked and thickened, nails blackening into hooves. Muscles bulged. His spine arched, popping. His feet split, reshaped, thudding against the bed as solid hooves. A tail burst from the base of his spine, flicking madly. His cock already leaking thickened, darkened, drooped like a stallion’s. Balls swelled heavy with new heat.

He pissed himself—helplessly, shamelessly. His body was too overwhelmed to hold anything back. Hot streams splattered against the bed and Vornak’s hand, making the bull growl with approval.

“Good breeding stock,” Vornak hissed.

He slammed deeper, pounding into Elias’s new, swelling body. The sound of rut echoed wet, loud, furious. Elias’s new cock flared and exploded, ropes of thick bull cum painting the bed, the lamp, the wall. No hands. No control.

Just instinct.

And then Vornak came. Hard. Deep. Full. His balls slapped hard, his cock twitching, dumping endless heat inside Elias. He groaned with pleasure, holding Elias down, breeding him properly, stuffing him like a vessel.

And when it was over, Elias lay transformed a young bull, marked, pulsing, still leaking.

Vornak bent down and licked his neck slowly, voice low:

“I’m not done filling you yet.”