Faunication is the first story I ever contracted! It is short, fuzzy and wild! My couple, Max and Chloe, become something other than human (though human enough!) and find shelter in a tree root home in a magic forest. Will their desire help keep them warm? Only .99 at Amazon.
“Fluffy, time to wake up,” a male voice said in a mocking tone into her ear. She twitched. In fact, someone was holding her ear. She fluttered her heavy eyelids open.
Sapphire blue eyes, long black lashes, black winged brows—
She must have said the name out loud.
His grin was just evil.
She blinked. Where was the bus? They were under some type of tree
, and the sun was morning bright.
She sat up quickly and her head began to spin--a meadow with long brown and yellow grasses, and beyond it, a forest of trees, many with no leaves, but a few bright yellow and orange ones standing out—
--What happened?” she screeched.
Then she looked at Mr. Wicked. He was nude, and had a brown sculpted chest and stomach, glossy golden brown hair below, lots of it, and—she felt her face flame—naked man parts. There was hair covering muscular legs which ended in shiny cloven hooves.
He caught the direction of her glance. “Goat’s feet, I suspect. I think I’m a faun. And look, I’m growing horny, and not in the usual way.” He touched the top of his forehead, where there were two brown bumps growing out of his golden hair, but his eyes stared suggestively at her chest.
Chloe glanced down. Her very naked chest. Hers? Her breasts seemed rounder, and whiter, her nipples pinker—she yelped and threw her arms over her chest, and then wailed again when she saw her lower parts were covered in white fluff, ending in—
--I’m a rabbit?” she hollered.
“No, not really.” He stood back a bit and perused her form. “You’re kind of half a rabbit. All girly above—well, except for the ears—and bunny below. Like a faun, only rabbit where I’m goat.”
She abandoned her breasts to feel her face. Same face, no big teeth, her old hair. She checked a long strand of her hair, it was still light brown.
“My eyes aren’t pink, are they?”
He peered into her eyes. “Nope, a nice, smoky blue.”
“Oh my god, floppy ears,” she groaned. Then she saw where his eyes were roving, and clapped her hands back over her chest.