A Stranger Comes to Town, Part 6 (Multi TFTG) (Patreon)

By FoxFaceStories

Friendly Oaks is just an ordinary rural town, full of common people and professions. But beneath that kind surface there are all manner of rivalries, tensions, hypocrisies, and love affairs. When a Stranger wanders into town, the people of Friendly Oaks find themselves changing - literally - after encountering him. Some transformations are small, others massive, some well-deserved, some not at all. But the town won’t be the same once the Stranger is done with it.

First Part

Previous Part

Next Part 

Part 6: Centaur Runners

The Friendly Oaks Marathon Masters were off to their regular start. Most were individuals in their thirties, though there were some in their twenties, and several in their forties as well. All in all they numbered seventeen runners, if one included Gemima, who was always woefully behind. The poor asthmatic was determined to improve her health and prove herself, but her continual lagging and poor performance on the track around town often led to some snickering behind her back, and even in front of her.

On the morning the Stranger had arrived in town, the Marathon Masters were moving at their regular jogging pace down the unimaginatively titled Main Street. As usual, Paul and Aaron were head-to-head, the two mid-thirties men continually butting against one another in a sad attempt to show dominance. Various others filtered in from behind them, but they were always at the front, trying to show off in their bright colours and expensive sweatbands.

This time, it was Aaron that won, having arrived at the midway stop by the Coldstone Cafe.

“Haha! More’s the victor for me!” he cried, shaking his head and letting his ridiculous mullet flop about.

“That’s not even the saying, you moron,” Paul responded. “Besides, you had the inside track on the bend. That’s advantage to you.”

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Paul,” Aaron responded, as various other runners arrived. “We can’t all be stallions like me!”

“Well, from what I hear, you’re quite the mare in bed, at least according to your ex.”

Aaron flustered, angry. “You better watch your mouth, or next run I’ll show you what happens when I let loose one of my old high school trick kicks. Only this time it won’t be a football I get.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Like you’ll win the next leg. You never do against me.”

There was a collective groan from several runners, most of them the women. This group had been started by Rosalie, who was now in her late forties and only just arriving. In fact, it had been mostly women originally, a fact that she had been just saying aloud had been a better state of affairs.

“For goodness sake, you two. You’re hopeless!” she cried. “Far too much testosterone for this town alone! It’s just a fun run to keep us fit and enjoy the conversation. It’s not a race!”

But the two men ignored her, and several of their mates were taking sides already. Rosalie just rolled her eyes and waited for poor Gemima. The wider-set woman was always last, and she arrived several minutes later, working away on her puffer, adjusting her thick glasses and muttering strained apologies. Paul and Aaron actually shared a moment to chuckle under their breath, and speak a little too loudly.

“Great, waiting for Gemima. Again. I swear that girl has hippo feet. Even you can outrun her, Aaron.”

“And I hear she’s your kind of woman,” Aaron served back.

Another chuckle rose from the men, and even some women, but Rosalie shielded Gemima from such comments, managing to stop her from hearing them. She was a kind woman, and one who had wanted the group to be more close-knit and protective. It was sort of like her second family, or her first, given that she had never married. Love had failed her in that way, and so she also felt some companionship with Gemima, seeing her a bit like a daughter.

“You’ve done so well, Gemima,” she remarked.

“F-feels like I got a b-better time, this time. Don’t have t-to wait for me, you know.”

“We’re happy to!” Rosalie said, though several of the faster runners made vocal disagreements. She quickly shot them a look. “What I mean is, I’m happy to. The others go when they want to, of course.”

As if by permission, they began to gather up, getting rid of their morning coffees and gulping down some water in preparation for the next leg. But the next leg would never come, or at least not with their current kind of legs. Because at that point a rather strange individual no one had ever seen before strode around the corner and eyed them curiously. Paul and Aaron stood, viewing this tall man almost as an intruder. He sat down at a table outside the cafe right near them, and seemed to regard them curiously. Even the more well-meaning runners found it a little intimidating, particularly since the strange man just appeared to be . . . listening. To them, almost. Yes, definitely to them, and their many conversations. In the end, the two leading men had to interfere.

“Hey there, weird guy staring at us, you’re out of town, right?”

The Stranger nodded at Aaron. “Indeed. Just passing through.”

“Yeah, see that you do. This is a runners’ group. We notice things. Including people who are suspicious.”

The tall figure stepped closer. “I don’t believe I have done anything hostile to you?”

Paul back up next to Aaron, not to be outdone. “Yeah, but you look pretty funny, and you’re looking funny at us. And Friendly Oaks is a local town, got it?”

Several of the other runners stepped forward at that point.

“Ignore them, too much testosterone.”

“Paul, for God’s sake -”

“Mister, maybe it’s a good idea to move on.”

“Aaron’s got the right of it. Everyone knows the Marathon Masters have this spot at midday.”

The Stranger nodded, and stood, and turned to leave. Then, hesitating, he shifted around again. “Marathon Masters? Quite the boastful title. You are fast then?”

Aaron and Paul exchanged a grin, though it was clearly a competitive one.

“The best, even better than this guy.”

“Fuck off, I’m the faster one.”

“Everyone here is a machine, except for Gemima of course.”

“And Rosalie, but she was good in her prime.”

The Stranger glanced at the pair they were referring to. The poor younger woman was struggling to regain control of her breathing. More than that, she was trying to hold back tears.

“Ah, so you are the ‘stallions’ I heard being referred to,” he said. “But any running group could always stand to be faster, yes? And what is faster than a horse?”

The group of runners were a bit confused by this apparent non-sequitur. Paul and Aaron moved forward, intent on putting a bit of intimidation against the taller man, but suddenly they stopped. Everyone did, including Rosalie and Gemima at the back. All were caught in the Stranger’s gaze, and it was like looking into the fiery essence of the cosmos itself. Something in his dark, low, crumbly voice changed, taking on a borderline supernatural quality as he continued to speak.

“I heard everything you spoke of. Your boasts about your speed, your competitive talk, how you compared yourselves to the women, and prided yourselves on your conquests. I also heard how the others spoke as well. I am the Stranger, a being far older than you can imagine, though I have no real name. I walk through this world and change it, the people most of all, making them as I wish them to be for no other reason than change and chaos is my very being. Sometimes I bring what you humans call karma, other times simply change without morality. Today, I shall bring a mix of the pair, though none of you will be the same again.

“You are a runner’s group, and since you are all trying to beat your old times, I will give you the power to do so quite handily. And with all this talk of stallions and mares and conquests, it is only fitting that we flip the table a little, and see how the pieces land. After all, what runs faster, than a mare trying to impress her mate?”

By this point, the entire running group was confused and terrified. Most of them were totally ordinary people, simply trying to stay fit in life, while only a small group were really aligned with the macho-chauvinism of Paul and Aaron. But the Stranger did not care: he was fulfilling his very purpose, as he saw it, though he made sure to add some flourishes of what he at least would consider some poetic justice, because at that point the entire running group were overcome with strange tensing sensations all across their bodies - especially their lower bodies.

“Nghh! What are you d-doing to us!?” Aaron cried, trying to get ahold of himself. He could suddenly move and speak again, but his feet were rooted to the spot. Others stood, but found that they couldn’t shift away from their current placing as well.

“Yeah, what the fuck? Stop this right now or I’ll-”

“Be patient,” the Stranger said. “The changes are just beginning . . . now.”

“What the fuck are you - OHHHH!!”

At that point, the entire crowd erupted in confusion and horror as their bodies warped dramatically, expanding in size and flesh rapidly. Gemima squealed, dropping her puffer as her hips widened considerably, and her ass grew out in a manner that should have been utterly impossible. The same was true of Rosalie, who cried out as the back of her running shorts ripped right open, her rear protruding forth unnaturally.

“Oh my Lord!” she cried. “What in Jesus’ name is happening to us!?”

“I don’t kn-know, Rosalie!” Gemima cried, clinging to her mentor. “But I’m s-scared!”

“No need to be scared,” the Stranger said casually, even as more clothing ripped, as more runner’s bulked up in their lower halves. “After all, you two will be the prize stallions of this new running herd. From now on, you won’t be lagging behind, or feel disempowered. You will take your places as the leaders, the stallions, of the herd. Just as two with such strong wills truly deserve!”

“What!?” Rosalie cried, and Paul and Aaron echoed her. Gemima simply squeaked, terrified and confused. But before any of them could say anything further, the transformations began to accelerate. The various runners gasped and groaned as their footwear erupted off their feet, which were rapidly fusing together, toes disappearing, as they formed what could only be hooves. Many of them had to cling to tables just to stay upright, especially once their hair began to push through their skin. It was terribly itchy, and startled the runners, all of whom were in running shorts and shirts. Suddenly, they were scratching themselves over, shrieking and swearing and praying for salvation as fur began to erupt from their bodies. Paul’s was white, while Aaron’s was chestnut brown. Rosalie’s came in black, while Gemima had an impressively dark brown coat with dapples of white upon it. It became even more obvious as their asses swelled further, tails erupting from their backsides quickly, growing long and hairy.

“Oh God! What the fuck!?” Aaron cried. “What the fuck!? Change me back man! I said change me fucking back!!”

“Yeah, or I’ll fucking kill you!”

“There’ll be no killing today,” the Stranger said calmly. “Besides, mares are not one for violence. That is the stallion’s role. No, you mares will be quite on the receiving end of any thrusts, though these, at least, won’t be thrusts of violence.”

“What the hell are you talking about? We’re not mares!”

The Stranger grinned. “Not yet. Observe.”

The men groaned, as did the women. As their lower halves swelled backwards, developing internal organs and taking on a barrel-like shape that nearly tipped them over, something else strange and alien was taking place: their genitals and genitalia were all shifting backward as well. Roalise moaned in unwanted pleasure as her vagina shifted backwards to position itself near her ass, and Gemime reached backwards only to cry out.

“N-no! No! This is w-wrong!”

“Wrong, yes,” the Stranger said. “But you get the best end of the deal, trust me. Let me help that along, and give you all some more balance.”

There was another eruption, another cry of surprise and fear as new alien sensations came into being. Already, each runner had developed a new limb in the form of a horsey tail, but now a pair of additional legs were surging into being. A new set of hips formed from the barrel lower halves that were growing, and they descended quickly, almost too quickly to take account of. Each member stumbled back, only to be unexpectedly caught upon a new set of hind legs that were very equine in nature. They were large, powerful, incredibly defined. And much taller than they should have been: Gemima felt a strange sense of dominance as her front legs caught up, warping to become more horse-like and equal in stature to her rear ones.

“H-holy shit,” she remarked. “This f-feels kinda funny!”

Rosalie couldn't entirely disagree. A new strength was surging through her older bones, and especially through her newer ones. She grunted and groaned as her lower half expanded, muscles rippling, fur coating, legs thickening. More than that, a tingling had set in her crotch, which was between her rear legs and far out of reach.

"Oohhh, dear Lord, what is happening back there? Can anyone s-see?"

Paul could. The macho-man had his own tingling, but what he saw on Rosalie and Gemima stole his attention.

"No way. No fucking way. They're growing horse cocks!"

"Uh, Paul," Aaron stammered.

"Massive horse cocks. This is sick! You bastard! What are you doing to them!?"

"Paul! Look what he's d-doing to us!"

The women were aghast to learn they were growing penises, and soon they could feel it too: big furry sheathes growing in, pushing outwards to reveal immense and heavy stallion cocks. Gemima was instantly hit by a wave of testosterone that left her feeling strangely dominant. Rosalie nearly staggered at the same. A couple of others were experiencing this change, but the rest were going in the direction that Aaron had realised: they were growing horse vaginas to suit their lower halves. Paul and Aaron shrieked in higher voices than normal as their human manhoods receded, with long tunnel entrances forming all the way to their new animal wombs instead.

"This can't be fucking happening! Pinch me, someone pinch me!"

"Shut up Aaron, you asshole, this is happening to m-meeeeee toooo!"

Both their voices shot up in pitch again. All of the men's voices did, and it was a precursor to the next change. Still grappling with the fact that they were now centaurs with powerful equine bodies, their upper halves began to warp and change as well.

"Here comes the last part," the Stranger said. "The final settling in of your new roles within the herd."

The women became younger, re-entering the prime of their lives, all appearing to be no older than twenty. Their hair grew out long and luscious and wild, changing colour to compliment their coats, and even dappling to match. Their figures grew stronger, with impressive six-pack abs and larger frames that stretched their shirts. Some even gained larger busts where they lacked before.

This was especially true of Aaron and Paul, who feminised rapidly. They grew impressive D-cup breasts, hourglass upper halves, and soft features. Both became beautiful centauresses: Paul with pale skin and long silvery hair, looking demure and princess-like, and Aaron with chestnut brown skin to match her coat, with near-black hair instead. She looked almost regal in appearance. Rosalie, on the other hand, had her skin go grey to compliment her black coat. Her breasts disappeared, her figure gaining more muscle and breadth in the shoulders and waist. Her face and jaw altered, her voice lowering also. The same was true of Gemima even more so, gaining muscle where there had once been flab. As the changes finished, they were left as clearly male up top and below, albeit with long flowing hair still. They had eight-pack abs and impressive biceps, and appeared exceedingly virile.

"We're women!" Aaron whined.

"And w-we're men," Gemima uttered, now tougher and bigger than anyone. Even her asthma was gone. Rosalie was similarly astounded: she didn't want this change, but some new urges were rising as she looked at the gorgeous young mares around her.

"Change us back, damn you!" Paul screeched. She was finally able to trot forward on all fours, and it felt deeply wrong, and yet utterly instinctual. She was trying not to look at the two stallions of the group, or the two women who had grown horse cocks on their equine halves but still remained female on top.

"I can, but will not," the Stranger answered. "You are now all truly marathon masters, and much better runners overall. I hope you enjoy your new forms, and your new herd: you will be quite more close-knit now. To give you a bit of extra incentive, these lovely mares - Paul and Aaron in particular - have been placed into their estrus. Their heat. It will also help propagate your herd and get you new runners in the future. Of course, first your deservingly leading stallions will have to catch them on your running route: it is important to prove your worth as mates, after all. Best of luck in beating your previous times."

And with that, the Stranger got up and left, leaving the group confused. The women - Paul and Aaron included - were all experiencing a warm flush between their rear thighs. A deep need. An urge to be penetrated. For the former men, it was all wrong.

"Fuck this, I'm g-getting out of here!" Paul cried. "I don't want stallion cock, no matter how good it would f-feel. Oh fuck, I said that out loud."

Aaron winced, thinking the same. She looked over at Gemima, her former target, and like the other mares, she was almost hypnotised by the stallion's masculine power. Gemima felt this, and while Rosalie was slowly coming to terms with it, the former butt of the joke embraced his new alpha status.

"I think it's time for a new route," he declared. "Through the wilderness, to the edge of Mount Panner and back. Don't you agree, girls?"

The mares couldn't help but agree despite their hesitation. Gemima's presence was too dominating. Alice and Pam, the two women who'd grown horse cocks, also nodded along. They were looking at their best friends and running partners with new lust.

"You can't!" Aaron yelled.

"We can," Rosalie said in her new booming brass tone. Her arousal was strong. The scent of Aaron's pussy was too.

"We're freaks, we need to change-"

"The run first! It's in my blood. These new instincts. And besides . . ."

Gemima grinned, finishing off Rosalie's thoughts: "We're very fucking horny right now, and our new urges want us to mount all these gorgeous mares. So get running: I aim to beat all your times and earn you."

All the mares, former men included, shuddered with desire. Gemima winked at Paul and Aaron, former tormentors turned conquests-to-be. The once-males gulped. The sight of Gemima's massive penis was too much. They turned and galloped away, already following their herd leader's direction to the mountain. The rest ran too, the stallions giving just a little time before pursuing.

Like it or not, the Marathon Masters would be setting all kinds of records that day. And Gemima was very keen on embracing her new role alongside Rosalie as its leaders, with Pam and Alice as deputies. Paul and Aaron and the rest of the mares would just have to fall in line or get running faster than their stallions.

But given the new lusty thoughts the former alpha males were grappling with, they likely wouldn't end up running quite as fast as they could have. Even if they were still, on the whole, a lot faster.

To Be Continued . . .