From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison)
Date: 4 Jun 93 23:15:39 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [BDAY] [MG] Morning AfterMath

[ADMIN]

This story contains adult situations and relationships.  It does not
contain explicit sexual detail, but if you or your parents might be
disturbed, please hit "n" now.

Self-rated PG-18 for mature theme.




Karl woke up without a hangover.

He knew it was impossible.  He had drunk, what, seven skins of wine
last night?   And he didn't normally drink more than a cup.

The thought of wine made him thirsty.  Then he realized he had to use
the loo.  But he couldn't move - there was a warm, furry weight on his
chest, across his right arm; his left hand was thrown across a hot,
dry, smooth body.  He left it there, stroking the skin, feeling the
gooseflesh form under his fingers.

He opened his eyes - it was still dark in here.  There was a warm,
musky scent, like clean sweat but more intense.  He found it kind of
exciting.  The weight on his chest moved, muttered; he resolved a blond
head in the darkness, delicate curves faintly visible in the dimness; a
sort of faint ruddy glow came from the body, and from his own.  Memory
began to return: they'd all been pretty drunk and someone, a big blond
guy, 'Raf, that's right, hired them for the night, they'd been playing
for the hardcore dancers until just before sunup, and then something
about getting their stuff from the shack where they'd been living.
They'd crashed at Raf's place, then ... yeah, there was some kind of an
orgy.  He stroked the blond head - yeah, it was Anna, he recalled that
part now.  He smiled.  She had been teasing him for months now.  Well,
it was worth the wait.

She rolled off him, grabbing one of the big pillows they were lying on,
still asleep,  so he sat up then stood, unsteady on his feet.  The loo
was off in this other room.  Not out the hall, don't want to wake the
rest up yet.

He stepped into the tiled room, closed the door behind him, the faint
glow from his skin enough to see by.  That was strange.  Like what he'd
heard from the elves that he used to sub in with, they called it the
heatsight.  So 'Raf had done something to them, he remembered that bit
now.  Gave them the heatsight, and something about music, but he
couldn't quite remember that bit.  A strange tune skirled around in the
back of his head, but it evaded his conscious grasp.

He looked around the small room, feeling his feet slip strangely on the
tiles - it felt like he had tight, heavy boots on.  And his legs felt
kind of weird, springy almost.  And he felt horny, again.  That was
weird.  He had a clear memory of all the band and a few others,
spending the early hours exhausting one another.  But he wasn't in any
kind of pain, not like when he and a couple cousins had gotten
themselves a case of blue-balls when they were just fourteen, goin' at
it for hours with some of the girls their age from the farm.

That had been real trouble - none of the girls got pregnant, thanks to
the local witchywife, but their parents had found out, and he had been
exiled back to the city.  Uncle Karl had been disappointed with him for
that one - mostly, because they'd been stupid.  He decided to look up
the old man, they'd not spoken since he got back from the trip to
Rameshan.  No time.  Well, there was time today, right?

The faint illumination from his body heat showed him the strange
chamberpot, one of those fancy flush-style arrangements that was
popular among the wealthier folks.  He reached down to aim.


Anna was awakened by a shout of shock.  What the hell?  She brushed her
hair back across her face, settling it back across her small, but not
useless, horns.  Horns?  Oh good.  It hadn't been a dream.

She smiled and looked around her.  There, a warm spot where Karl had
been, heat fading away.  The twins, curled together in each others
arms; a sparkly-skinned fellow over there with the two fox women, a
relatively small but powerfully built centaur stal curled up with a
pair of furry-bodied women with skunk-stripe fur patterns.  There was
still gentle snoring from the others; she decided not to wake them.
Karl must be in the loo.

She got up onto her hooves, wondering at how easily she'd learned to
move this changed body.  She crossed to the loo, went inside, closing
the door.  Karl was standing there, holding onto himself with
disbelief.  She touched the fader-switch and the lights began to come
up in the room - that was strange, she thought, where did that bit of
magic knowledge come from?

In the light, Karl was no longer a glowing figure.  He was just holding
onto his manhood, staring at it, stunned.   She giggled.

"What?" he said.  "What's so funny?"

"You, silly.  Standing there with the family jewels in hand and a look
on your face like a poleaxed bull."

"Well how would you feel, finding out that your favorite body part had
been replaced by a complete stranger?"

"Karl, sweet, you didn't treat it like a stranger this morning.
Besides, it's an improvement on the old one."

"Hey, size isn't everything, remember?   It's the technique?"

She giggled.  "Yeah, but you have both now.  Really, didn't you
remember the dance and the music and everything?"

"Yes.  But I thought it was a dream, or an illusion."

"Did you?"

"Okay, so, I didn't really believe it.  It's still a shock."

"Why did you come in here?  If you're not going to use the pot, let me
get at it."

"Oh.  Right."  He aimed, emptied his bladder.  She sat down when he was
done, and giggled again when he went over to the mirror.

"What's so fascinating?"

"It's really me.  Wow."  He touched his head where the horns were
growing, four inches long, wavy, slightly forward pointed.  His red
hair curled back, and he pulled it away to examine the pointed tips of
his ears.  He wiggled his ears - they were kind of mobile.

"What, you don't like it?"  She activated the bidet, and stood, drying
off with the small towel provided for that purpose.

"No, I love it.  When I was a kid, well, a young boy, there was a
troupe of satyrs who used to come through.  They had a son my age, and
I used to be jealous of how fast he could run and jump and all that
stuff.  He taught me my first drumsong, did you know that?"

"No."  She walked over next to him, catching her own reflection in the
mirror.  Her hair was touseled but it looked great, kind of wild and
not tangled at all.  She glanced over at him.

"Look at you though.  Prime beef.  Lovely."

"What do you mean?"  He looked at his reflection: curly red hair, a
short beard the same color, deep bronze skin, hairless over his
shoulders, chest, back, stomach, a light patterning of ruddy hair on
his arms.  An acrobat's build, or an apprentice knight: hard, but not
too much for freedom of movement, yet not too little, and with all the
proper curves in the right places.  Thick, soft red fur starting at his
waist, covering powerful thighs, legs tapering off to long relatively
thin shanks and strong black hooves the same color as his sharp,
up-curving horns.  Deep green eyes.  A tail.  A goat's tail.  He
turned, flicked it up and down, admiring the way it moved.

"Just looks like me."

"Well, you _were_ kind of pale and scrawny, Karl."  She poked his
arm-muscle, drew her finger up along his shoulders.  He tensed and
relaxed.  Very good definition.  Maybe he had been a little too thin.
Okay, so he made a better satyr than he had a human.

"Is that why you wouldn't sleep with me?"

"No, I wouldn't sleep with you because you had no future.  I was being
a mercenary bitch, I wasn't going to have any man but one that I could
either rule, or who could make me rich."

She ran her hands through her hair, removing a hint of a tangle,
unconsciously arching her back to show off the high curve of her
ribcage, the large firm breasts that did not sag at all like one would
expect.  She rippled her tummy muscles in and out like a belly dancer,
admiring the tone.  And she had muscles elsewhere, too - she'd been
raised too ladylike, before she ran off from home, and she'd been kind
of softly weak, then when she learned to play music she'd only gotten a
little arm strength.  She turned around to admire her reflection, all
gold and sparkling.  She realized that Karl was staring at her hungrily.
She met his gaze with her soft amber eyes.

"No, I didn't sleep with you because I thought I needed better."

Karl felt something strange - a wave of affection, of lust, and it was
centered outside himself, emanating from her.  He blinked.

"And you changed your mind?"  He stroked her nearest breast, seeing the
color patterning of her lighter skin against his own darker hand.

"Keerah's hells, yes.  I don't need a man to make me a person any
more.  `I am woman, hear me roar' or some such thing."  She grabbed him
around the neck and shoulders, and pulled him close for a kiss.  After
a few minutes, they unclenched, breathing deep for air.  He considered
taking her there on the tiles, but courtesy required asking first.

"Wow.  You wanna?"

"Sure.  Where?  They're still sleeping out there."

"How about the shower?"  He pointed to the far end of the room, where
the glass-brick wall hid the shower.

The shower was large enough for the centaur outside to bathe in.  There
was a small enamelled pot filled with a soft soap, but the traditional
overhead bucket was missing.  Instead there was a small tube with a
strange contraption on one end, lying on the shelf between the soap and
the dried-gourd scrubber.

"How does this work?"  Karl turned it around in his hands.

"I dunno.  What does that say there?"  Anna pointed to the small bulb
on one end.  There was a wavy-line glyph there, reminiscent of water.
Karl touched it, and a spray of warm water started out of the other
end.   "Wow.  Hey, it adjusts!"  He twisted the handle, and the spray
grew harder and more focussed, then started to pulsate.

"A wand of water! Let me see!"  Anna tried to grab it and he lifted it
higher, getting her head wet; her hair immediately turned three shades
darker but the curl did not leave it.  He adjusted it again, back to a
soft steady stream, while she danced around underneath, getting warm
water over her whole body.

"I wish it could stay put without me having to hold it," he said,
reaching a hand into the soap.

"Look, there's a bracket on the wall there.  Maybe it fits in that?"

She pointed, and Karl noticed a small wire frame.  The wand fit into it
perfectly, of course, and the spray was concentrated to a spot
underneath it.  He grinned and got the scrubber wet, then proceeded to
get her very very clean, the slow way.


Dack woke up in his brothers' arms.  An inexpressible sensation of love
came over him.  At last, it was in the open, what they had refused to
admit to each other for most of their lives.  Dirk was still asleep
though.  Dack pulled him close, nuzzling into the nape of his neck, and
he woke up.  "'mornin," he whispered.

"It wasn't a dream,"  Dack replied, whispering in return.

"Nope.  Hey, it's dark in here.  I wanna see what we look like sober."

"You look fine to me.  Hey, over there, isn't that the Varnaker sisters
with that stal?"  Dack helped his brother to sit up and they looked
around the room by the faint glow of body heat.

"Yeah.  Did we really, all five of us...?"

"I don't remember for sure, I was way too drunk last night."

"Well, howcome we ain't hung over?"

"Feel your forehead, Dirk.  We's satyrs now, you remember that part?"

"Yeah.  That wine was somethin' else."

"Where's Karl and Anna?  They was right here."

"I dunno but I need ta use the pot."

"The loo's over there,"  Dirk pushed himself up to his feet, using his
twin for leverage, then pulled him up in turn.  There was some faint
stirring from the other sleepers, so they were careful to be extra
quiet as they crossed the room.

It was kind of bright behind the door, and they slipped inside as
quickly as they could so the light wouldn't disturb the others.

Their eyes adjusted quickly.  There was a giggle and a moan of pleasure
from the glass-brick enclosure at the far end of the room.  So that was
where Karl and Anna had gotten off to.

"Wow, lookit this place."

"Yah, lookit you, bro."  Dack's voice sounded amazed.

Dirk looked in the mirror.  Yesterday when he'd woken up he'd been a
seventeen year old human, with straight black hair and a big nose that
looked kind of lumpy like a potato, and ears too big that stuck out, a
body that was working on being just a little pudgy from all the beer
and wine he drank, but still pretty strong from working at the docks.
At least, that's what he'd seen when looking at his twin, and he knew
people told them they were as like as two sardines in the net.

But today he had jet-black hair that curled down past his shoulders, in
glossy tight strands, and his hairless jaw was straighter and stronger,
his eyes were the same blue as the sky just after sunset.  His nose
didn't look a lot like a potato either, just square and strong, and his
ears stuck out but they were pointed, mobile.  And he had two big curvy
horns kind of like a ram's horns.  He grinned, and all his teeth were
there, straight and white against his olive skin.  His body was just as
strong as before, maybe more, but the last traces of baby fat and beer
bloat were gone; there was a trail of fine hair from his navel down to
where his hips began.  And below, where _everything_ was different.

"Geez, Dack.  Lookit our legs.  We never got hairy legs before."

"Yah, well, we never got hoofs before neither."  Dack grinned and
nodded towards the shower.  "Wanna use the loo, then we can go see
what's makin' those two be so quiet?"