Donkey Dong Delights
Grabbing some clean clothes, Matt headed for the bathroom, he and his new found prize from up in the attic storage loft. It was just another oddity of what he had come to find while searching through the props to some old magic act, that the long time hence foolishness of a real "Whack 'o" of an uncle. His new prize found tucked into the inner lining of an ages old steamer trunk, it plastered with stickers from all the corners of the globe.
What had caught his eye and imagination was a "Crafting Wand," as used by magicians to direct their powers and make things happen that by all that is right, should be impossible. His wish was for a private place to swish and practice his discovered bit of divining art, where if he could, he would begin the making things happen, this while he stood bathing under a warm water shower.
Matt remembered well of his past times when he had asked about the unmentioned Uncle, the verbal conflict that followed and rebuking as of his never to ask about that filth old man was more than enough to make a wishful nephew want to know more. As the water bathed him in soothing comfort he had there the wand, and with swishing it in irreverent manner about his person, Matt imagined much as he toyed with his new treasure. He knew too that if this thing were found, he muttering his thoughts said, "If when dad comes home later, I can hide the wand in the linen closet, set to the back as under a stack of towels."
When he had depleted the hot water supply for the home and stood dripping and drying his skin with a towel, Matt eyed his great body. Right then stripped clean of his soul binding clothes, his most personal longings were to be the stud male jock at a evening party.
Feeling ever so giddy, Matt swung the wand around in loops as he pondered what to try first to test the thing and its possible power.
Just then the slamming of the house front door announced to all there, that a frustrated father had come home from the work-a-day drudgery of him doing business.
Matt jumped from fear of his finding and having what he found. A quick checking of his wristwatch told of his father had come home earlier than expected. Matt quickly reached and turned the lock on the door, knowing his father would come in no matter the state of anybody there using the bathroom for whatever their needs.
A rap at the door was soon to followed by a father calling to his son through the closed and locked bathroom door, he said, "Hey I have a meeting after supper, and save me some hot water!"
"I will Pappy!" Matt called back to his father, he knowing how his father disliked being referred to as a pappy. Then as with the wand in hand he had even less time to play and imagine, having to do or test what he wanted most to try there in that private a place.
Listening close as to his father walking further along the hall, Matt heard him grumble about the many times before when after taking a shower the volume of hot water was all gone when time for dad to get his chance to bathe. The old man was a true to life father figure, he knowing as muttering like did his son, he said too speaking about Matt, "That son of mine is a horse's rear when it came to making and holding to anything he promises!"
Matt was a little let down that his father expected so little consideration from his son, even if he was righteous for thinking it. Turning his attention back toward the fanciful new find, Matt again looped the wand in the air and pointing it toward his reflection there in the half steamed mirror he then said, "I be not a horse's rear.... but I would wish to be as much in likeness of having a horse cock. Oh if but to learn as know the sexy sensual thrill it must be of it as with slipping in and be surrounded by hot sexy flesh. By the powers from this wand, oh wow, how I would enjoy feeling what it is a horse stallion knows from what it uses to mate or masturbate! Oh, ah no, oh damn...!"
A swirling wand in hand and no sooner said than by the magic it did control still, the wand focused and began to make things happen. It offered Matt but a short moment of feeling so stunned a feeling as if something coming at and around him, a power that should not be real but rather obvious then it was real. Suddenly Matt fell forward and leaned on the bathroom counter top. He felt his mind in a spin as he became alert to his coming situation.
The view of the room began to fade, all blurred to his sight as then what he felt all around him was as a warm and sultry uncomfortable feeling. Strangely limited then in his senses, he was unable to smell anything. Matt knew from the instant before the room faded that where he had gone was all about his fool wishful stupidity. He disliked what he was and had, wanting to gain more of what he a human male had lustily dared to ask of and from the wand. Knowing he was as still alive the sense of being hung with him, he felt that he was not a singularity of his human self.
Reasoning and thoughts remained a part of him; Matt seemed to have lost all feelings in his hands, arms, legs, as his mass of sensation came only from his torso. The lack of sensation from his appendages was more than a primary concern, he was horror struck, fearing the unknown. If from one thing that he could not feel happening, not understanding as why or how, but of his torso he could not sense he was breathing.
So much seemed so wrong! What he held vividly in his memory of that last seconds of seeing before everything of his world went dark, the thought of it made for added revulsion.
He felt some sense of joy that he could make his lips to move, Matt tried hard to cry out, to call to anyone close and plead with them to aid or give help. His lips moved but doing so he felt no tongue waggle or did he have those perfectly aligned teeth. What happened from his making move his lips was a full body sensing of his torso becoming tensed. He knew he was not breathing but at the same time he felt his a swelling sensation. His feeling puffed up was forcing all of him to move out and away from the warm as cozy place he had found himself. The then feeling of a wintry chill at his flesh and a further touching of his naked self by a fresh breeze sent a surge of adrenalin through him as he felt excited suddenly and rather favorably too!
Moaning in his mind more than what he could make as a sound out of his mouth, Matt never felt more as gay if minded from what he did right then. Something instilled in as of him suggested that where and what he was came from his wand swishing wish. Oddly having a sense that he was to something greater as a necessary and or vital to some manner of satisfying being as his mission in life. He was as the acquiescence of being combined to and realizing his fanciful wish. His father might well be embarrassed as to the choice Matt made, he being too busy to care much about what his son wanted of self. A lone son wanted from his father recognition for being a son and as well a kindred spirit.
Holding that thought and hope seemed to make the uncertainty of his whereabouts as easier to hold to hope. Matt swooned with a rush of gut arousing sensation, his body feeling puffed as it seemed to get stretching, became taunt as to the max. At that moment Matt felt he had again a face, as the breeze touched it and his mouth, the lips moved, he sensed his a want of puking, ready to him tossing his cookies due to the strange realm of his unsure feelings.
Strangely sick, Matt felt added nauseating from his world seemed to be in a swaying. swinging motion, while stiff but mobile. He knew this as being a touch of blind eyed motion sickness, as such what he felt came from his feet seemed strained to lifting his entire body. Wildly swishing in the air, and then he bumped into something stout of form, it hairy, and offered from the touch as a warm feeling.
"Erg," Matt thought as he felt his body surge, he puking out his mouth, the gush of what spewed from out of him had a slippery, silkiness, he noted some soft as large globs, but for the most of it all, what came flowed forth in a furious manner.
This all happened with a regularity like timed, and after each time Matt felt sick from puking, the aftermath offered a sense of relief. The kind of easing came and faded, it not like what he remembered having when at home or at a party. He could not see, all was as if black, his ears he could not feel, but they were somewhere there as he sensed sounds, vibrations mostly. With time and times on occasion he felt the quivering feel of his face and then body as if being grabbed, held, and stroked in moist heat until after puking some more he felt cowered back into his warmer home.
Time seemed as an eternity to Matt, his life a continual progression of feeling sickly, of puking, and then a sensing of sultry or flowery, but the essence was always quite warm!
Unbeknown to Matt, but his father when entering the bathroom and shower stall, saw there the wand, it lying on the floor in the shower stall. Given time and some thought as of what happened to make Matt disappear, he holding it to the mirror asked of it to show where his son went and or became.
Asking of the wand to reach out and send to his son word of concerns his parents held dear, he holding the wand to the mirror said, "Matt, I know that though the power of the wand you can either hear me or feel then my voice. What I need to tell you is that your parents love you, and your dear mother wishes for you to return home. You had the wand belonging to my uncle, and as I found it lying on the shower room floor, I knew then that you were is a tough fix.
Set are you, hung as part of horse and stallion, you are its sex organ a penis. I can imagine what you might have wanted but were not careful as how you stated your wish. I realize your delight with being larger a male, such ideals I too held and agreed with them. You felt bound, hemmed in by our parental rules as set down in accordance from the style of religion your mother and I grew up with, and nurtured upon our children.
I did not tell your mother as of where the wand has sent you, or of your impractical choice of where you would otherwise prefer to live your life.
You have no eyes to see with! You have no nose to smell what your cock body stinks like, and no outer ears to hear of things not close, or in touch to your body.
Where you are and of what, the horse stallion to which you are a part is as one of Mister Melon's donkey Jack's. You are the cock body belonging to Pete, for your lurid information, your penis body can extend to being twenty-three inches in length, four inches in girth at the end face of the cock body. You have the girth about your base that of eleven and a half inches round where what you feel as feet, but in fact it is your sheath attached to the horse groin.
The wand held to a mirror lets me see you. I shuddered when Pete extended you. He with you liking the warmth felt was as he mounted and thrust you inside the vagina of a mare. Imagining of what you feel and asking to learn by way of the wand, I know better of what you feel. The rank sensation of puking is when donkey Pete urinates or ejaculation through you, he a Jackass spews into the mare his semen, that too is what you think is your puke.
Ha, if you were here and saw what it shows me, your puke the blending of juices and globs of semen pearls he, Pete ejaculates into the mare, it rushes from out what you think is your mouth. As of what you can taste is the flavor of his semen and her, the mare her vaginal juices then mixed.
I had asked the wand for some idea as of where you went, I gather you are not wholeheartedly disenchanted with where and as of what you wishfully became! When touched you have felt recently of great hands as I cradled your cock body. I saw how Pete enjoyed you when aroused, you then leaking strings of his juicier juices. If you remember the feel, and of when I squeezing slightly your large testicles, the stiffening to taunt readiness caused an ejaculation of semen covering my hand, arm, and splattering at my chest.
Your are alert and your mind still is thinking, but given time, as such the wand suggested the aftermath of mating at least six mares, the ability to think independently will fade and soon cease. At that point in time the bland organ that you wished to become will be about all of what it is to be as of you.
I wish to say that our home is not as warm and friendly a place without you!
However, if by your wishful stupidity that in thoughts you decide to remain as you are, being permanently as a donkey cock, be assured that I shall not come to see or visit with you ever again."
Matt felt the words, he through the wand understood his what his dad spoke, and the meaning to him of what could be his future. As much he wanted again to talk and as well hear through his ears, his being a donkey cock had its favoring aspects too!
Odd in all what he felt, Matt knew his dad would never understand, the being as a cock-body felt rather nice, his choice of lifestyle seemed as quite comforting. He had what he liked to do as feel most from life, and by being a penis he need to worry about having to work like did his father.
A future and fortune set in the equine desire of the stud donkey above him was as much the delight in mutual enjoyment, something of what was lacking between a father and his son.
The essence of his organ self felt unable to explain the wealth of satisfying sensations from his cock body, especially when plunged as thrusting into a mare body. The feel of the mare grasping, milking at his cock body for its semen, all this and so much more was for him and from it all too much for Matt to want for more or wish again he was a human.
Over time, Matt failed to give any hope or dare show to his father the want to be again as is a human. He in his own hope wished that his father not make use of the wand and force on him a return to being a spited, humiliated son of his angered father. Knowing while not able to see it, Matt would have liked to see his long black fleshed tube, the end face flat, it flanged, his mouth as lips made to hold and let surge forth the very essence of what it is to be a male donkey.
Thinking about it, Matt would have laughed had he the chance or ability. H had grown accustom to the taste of frothed urine, and of semen, it silky, salty, and choice in its texture.
For reasons of his own and to be a remembrance to a dad as what he had fathered into being, he with camera took a photo while Matt was at the heights of sensual frustration. His son could say more than words as of what it feels to be a Donkey penis by the manner of how excited as taunt he was when in an erection.
A wishful father did not ask of his son to smile for the taking of his picture, as if he smiled he might leak some silkier juices.