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HELP!!

does anybody have a link to a TF story about a guy who pricks his finger on an old knife and then slowly transforms into a half ape man, i have been searching for ages! please any help is appreciated!

Jungle Games

This is a story I wrote, inspired by a pair of pictures by an artist named Sarvak on Furaffintiy.net. I’ll include the links below for you to view the art and descriptions that go along with it, if you wish. I hope you all enjoy. :D

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/19036299/

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/19117182/

“Hello, and welcome to the jungle.”

You cry out in surprise as you stare at the hunched figure standing in front of you. A ragged blue hoodie clings to his wiry frame, while the tattered remains of a pair of shorts brush against a pair of toned, hairy legs. A thick, brushy unibrow juts up at you from heavily tanned skin. His blue eyes seemed almost to sparkle beneath the filtered light of the canopy above.

“My, my. No need for such a startled reaction. I mean, I know I was ugly when I was born, but I never made people scream before.”

You gulp, and take a step back from the stranger as you note the swishing mass that shouldn’t exist wagging behind him.

Oh, would you relax? It was a joke. I take it you’re here to visit Lord Sarvak, yes?”

You nod your head dumbly, unable to really say much other than that, considering the oddness of the … creature that stands before you.

“I thought so,” he says, smiling smugly as he casually scratches an itch at his side. Right this way.”

“I, um … didn’t think he’d be expecting me,” you mutter.

Oh, a lot of people come to see him, actually. He’s a rather popular monkey,” the … man … monkey … thing responds.

“So you’re his doormonkey?” you ask.

“Well … yes, I suppose you could say I’m the footman for now.”

“For now?” you ask as you raise a quizzical eyebrow.

“Yes, for now,” he glowers back at you. “Lord Sarvak likes to play games, you see. I was once a visitor, like yourself. I wanted to get rich, to feel fulfilled, have fun, not have to work all day at a job that numbs my brain, the usual sorts of desires that draw people to him. Well, that, and I have a few debts I’d like to pay off.” He chuckles as he begins to guide you through the damp rainforest. There isn’t that much of a path, per se, but it seems the area had been walked enough to make a sort of a trail. “I assume you came to him for similar reasons. He’s willing to grant those wishes, and more besides, but he wants to have his fun with the process. So, rather than give a free ticket, he plays games with his petitioners. In my case, we made a bet. I get to be his servant for half a year, and if I’m still my same old self by the end of it, he’ll make me a very wealthy man, and even provide me the means to return home whole and hearty.” He hunches forward, and tenses his muscles, then jumps upwards to snatch a fruit off a low-lying branch, before taking a big juicy bite out of it, exposing his sharper canines as he eats greedily.

“Um … no offense, but you don’t exactly look too human,” you say pointedly.

Well, of course I’m not looking very human. What did you expect in the simian court? Master Sarvak had to make some … adjustments, so I could fit in my role better. That doesn’t mean I’ve changed up here or in here,” he said, pointing to his head and heart with a free hand.

You’d rather not risk upsetting your only guide in a potentially dangerous jungle further, so you decide to change the subject. “So what’s it like? Meeting Sarvak, I mean.”

Your guide furrows his brow as you walk, pondering the question. “It is … ook ook … difficult to describe. The first time I stood in his presence, I knew immediately how wonderful and merciful a simian he was.”

“How so?”

He breaks into a high-pitched sort of laugh that scratches through his vocals, until it becomes more like a screech. “Oh, you’re funny. Master Sarvak has taken very good care of me in his employ. All the bananas I could ask for, a tree to swing around in, the distinct pleasure of being his servant….”

“And what about your home?”

He taps his lightly bearded chin with a leathery finger. “My home? Well, it’s not much to look at by your standards. I get a lovely tree house, a never-ending stalk of bananas, fresh juice every morning and night, a hammock and bed to swing around or sleep in as I choose, and all the vines I could ever want to swing around on. It’s especially fun when you’re harvesting fruits from the trees. They’re so tender, so juicy and sweet. It makes my tail wag just thinking about them!”

You do your best to dodge the appendage, while still remaining courteous. “That’s … not exactly what I meant,” you explain.

“Hmm? Oh, you meant my human home. Well … I don’t know if there’s much to say about it, really. It was just a studio apartment. I remember … four walls, and a magic screen to look out into the world. Master Sarvak has something similar, only he calls it a scrying glass. I remember a fire stick I used to start a woodless fire, and it would keep burning, until I was finished. Now that really was something.” He paused a moment as a dazed expression passed over his face. “Funny … I can’t quite … recall the name for it. It’s been so long since I thought about that place. So … very long. Actually … what did my home … look like? How … how long has it actually been?” He lets out an animalistic grunt, and scratches at his side as he struggles to break through the haze. “I … I, uh … suppose it doesn’t matter.” The scratching becomes more rhythmic, relaxed, and a smile pulls at his face, expanding into a grin that exposes sharper canines and thicker incisors. “Yes … doesn’t … doesn’t matter at all.” He lets out few more simian hoots. “Must attend my duties.”

He clearly seems lost in his own world, and you’d rather not get lost with him, so you do the only think you can think to do. You tap him on the shoulder to gain his attention. “Um, are you okay?” you ask.

“Hm?” He looks at you, and the fog in his eyes clears a little. He shakes his head. “Sorry. That happens sometimes when I think of the master. It’s good to think about the master.” The scratching has risen somewhat on his hairy body, and suddenly he stops, and plucks something off his skin. “Yes … good.” You watch as he sticks it in his mouth, and starts to chew. You can’t believe what you’ve just witnessed as the crunching of an exoskeleton echoes in the quiet jungle air.

You gape silently at his actions, and he looks back at your face, and rolls his eyes.

“Well excuse me. I’m hungry. The bugs make for a tasty snack. Puts hair on your chest, sharpens your teeth for the ladies.” His eyes burn suddenly with an unreasoning anger, and he beats his chest with curled fists as he unleashes a series of territorial screeches. “AH HAH AH HAH AHHH!” He coughed afterwards, and cleared his throat as he regained control of himself. “Forgive me. That behavior was … uncalled for.”

“Do you need me to–?” you start.

He raises a halting hand. “No, no. Don’t worry. It comes with the territory. The form comes with the instincts, including the need to display dominance.

You watch with some surprise as his ears twitch, and then start to stretch, becoming larger and rounder. “Um….”

“Yes?” he asks as he turns to face you.

“Your ears.”

“Yes? What about my ears?”

“They just grew. Isn’t that bad for your bet?”

He looks at you like you’ve just grown a second head. “What are you talking about? They’ve always been this big.”

“Always been….” Your heartrate is starting to rise.

“Yes, always.”

Sweat begins to bead at your forehead, and you feel the hairs rising on the back of your neck. Perhaps coming here wasn’t the best idea, after all. “Um … how long have you been working here now, then?”

“Oh, I’d say about a month or so,” he answers.

“And … what happens to you, if you lose this bet of yours?”

“If I lose? Why … Master would … he would…. Something about a … runner-up prize…. Why can’t I…?” He claps both hands over his head for a moment, and scrunches his eyes shut in intense concentration. Or was it pain? You couldn’t quite tell. Then a cool breeze shakes the branches, and the soft tone of bells rings in the air. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, and then sighs. He stops, and you watch as his tail seems to wrap around his ankle, and rub it. His foot changes before your eyes, the skin taking on a glossy sheen as it thickens to a leathery consistency, and the big toe lengthens to become a thumb-like appendage, while the toes shift to become just like fingers. The second foot joins in a matter of seconds, and soon he turns to face you again. “Come,” he almost seems to drone, “Master is waiting. Mustn’t keep Master waiting.” He lets out a few gentle simian ooks as his sideburns thicken, and lengthen down the sides of his face and jaw to form a sort of furry mane.

“Um, you seem to be … well, that is to say….” You find yourself at a loss for words for a moment, then finally out and say it. “Something’s wrong with your face.”

He reaches up with his hands, and starts feeling over his cheeks, his nose, his brow, even the inside of his mouth. As he does so, you watch as his nostrils become more pronounced, and his mouth seems to pull out with his hand, forming a sort of semi-muzzle. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with my muzzle?”

“For one, you didn’t have it a few seconds ago.”

Your guide furrows his brow, and you watch as it thickens. The ridge stretches out like a clay pulled by a sculptor’s hand, before it compacts and swells, spreading like roots down the sides of his face to form a sort of natural hollow for the eyes to sink within.

“And now your brow is changing!”

He folds his arms, and rolls his eyes. “Well, a thick brow is part of the package. I’m a monkey servant, remember? … Monkey … just … monkey. Yes.” His gaze became distant again as the whites of his eyes began to disappear. “Hmm?” He sees your expression, and shakes his head to try to clear it. “Sorry. I’ve been feeling … scattered lately.”

You definitely don’t like where this is going. “Why don’t you tell me your name? You never did introduce yourself.”

“My name?” He shakes his head. “Master made me promise not to speak it, while I serve him. A proper challenge for a proper servant, he said. You may call me Domaap. It is the name Master told me to use.” He smiles dazedly at you.

“Um … why are you grinning like that?” you ask. “It’s sort of creepy.”

“Because I’ve come to enjoy hearing the name,” he explains as you reach a hill of roots. He begins climbing, and you have no choice but to follow. Naturally, given his simian anatomy, it comes more easily to him than it does for you. “It fills me with pleasure. The other monkeys think it’s a joke of some sort. I don’t understand how it is, myself.”

“You’re telling me he made you his servant, and you still can’t understand monkey speak?” you ask, surprised. You’ve worked up a good sweat by now as you continue to climb.

“Well, of course I speak simian. When you live in a jungle where the main population is monkeys who are bound in service to an even larger, more powerful magical monkey, you kind of have to know how to speak the language. It’s just a proper name, from what I can tell. I understand the speech. That doesn’t mean I have the meaning of every name memorized,” he pointed out logically as he reached the top and extended a hand down. You take it, and he pulls you up the rest of the way. “I can teach you some of it later, if you’d like. It’s actually quite simple to learn, more a matter of simplifying thought patterns mixed with body language and the occasional exclamation.”

“Like cursing?”

“More like hoots and screeching. It’s actually rather fun, once you get past the initial embarrassment. It’s far more entertaining to listen to them, once you get the knack for it. They’re simple, but passionate, and all dedicated to the master.”

“Why do you keep referring to this monkey as Master?”

Domaap shrugs as you continue to walk along the top of the natural wall. “I call him Master, because he is the master here. Everyone knows it, and everyone lives according to that fact. He gives us our jungle, grants us a home, rules us fairly.”

“Us?”

“Well, yes, us. I am a simian right now, so that means I fall under his rule, too. Any time we obey him, pleasure is our reward. I still remember when I first grew my tail and hung from the trees with it. It was such a rush. Master gave it to me as a reward for such speedy and efficient service when dealing with petitioners. Sure, it took me a while to learn how to climb properly, but once I had that down, the sky was the limit, quite literally. I could go anywhere in the canopy, swing from limb to limb like it was nothing. Back and forth, and back and forth, and back … and back … and … back….” He slumps further forward as a crack sounds from his spine. You watch as he swings his arms freely, and they lengthen. Soon enough, the sound of his knuckles scraping the ground reach your ears, and you watch as the skin around them cracks and darkens, while they swell larger. His fingers stretch out, and curve naturally as he alters his stride completely to match his new form of locomotion.

“Domaap?”

He turns his head back to face you, and grunts questioningly.

“Um … was part of your deal becoming a complete monkey?”

He grins, exposing his sharper canines as his lips fold outwards. “Mon-key … Master,” he grates out slowly, then slams his hands on the ground a few times, jumping excitedly on the forest floor, while his fur, because that’s basically what it is now, thickens into a proper coat. “Good … ha–ppy.” He leaps into the air, grabbing one of the low-lying branches, and starts swinging as he hoots out what you think is a simian equivalent of a laugh. The trees shake and tremble around you as that laughter echoes, and returns. It redoubles as the boughs in the higher parts of the trees shake with movement. You swallow forcefully as you realize you’ve been shadowed the whole way. There had to be hundreds of them.

You feel a sharp pain, and smack the back of your neck, pulling back to reveal the bloated remains of one of the biggest insects you’ve ever laid eyes on. Domaap hoots excitedly, and leaps down from his branch to take what remains he can with his fingers, then shoves them in his mouth. When he looks up at you again, the whites in his eyes have all but been consumed, leaving a sort of golden hazel iris to stare back at you.

…

But they had been blue.

“Domaap, how many people have actually won Sarvak’s games?”

His shoulders shake as he hoots gently in what you assume to be the simian equivalent of a chuckle. “No … know,” he grated out. You watch with a rising sense of horror as a forest of hair sprouts and spreads up his shoulders and neck, thickening along the way. “Just … serve Master.” He thumped his chest with a fist, then motioned towards you. “Come.”

The humid jungle air soon leaves you covered in sweat, and a low-lying fog begins to stream around your ankles as you follow your guide. Your hidden followers peek curiously out from the tree boughs. Some are completely feral, including in size. Others still maintain some small semblance of their humanity, namely in the form of tattered clothes.

You stop at the foot of a massive tree, where a curious plant is growing with a single broad, sturdy green leaf the size of a platter. A pool of rainwater has collected inside, and your host reaches in with a cupped hand to sip. He smiles at you then, and leans forward on his knuckles, before motioning to the leaf. “Drink,” he grunts. “Help … talk to Master.” His brow furrowed further, as though he were struggling to recall the words. “Speak … sim … sim–ian.”

“And if I don’t?”

He shook his head. “No … see … Master. No … talk … Domaap. No talk. No … no ….” He groaned out the last word, then hooted as he slapped his leathery palms onto the forest floor. The trees came alive with screeches, hoots, and hollers that pealed like laughter as he pulled off his shirt to reveal a fur-covered chest. He beat against it a few times, then grinned, and hooted excitedly as he watched the fur spread down his arms to thicken into a proper coat.

“Domaap?” you ask hesitantly.

The new monkey rises up onto his two feet, and stares uncomprehendingly at you. His tail sways behind him as he points to the leaf, and mimes drinking one more time, then leaps up onto a tree trunk to climb onto a low-hanging branch and hang upside down with his tail. He folds his arms, and looks expectantly at you.

You look back the way you’ve come. The fog has all but eliminated any sign of the track you’ve taken. Even if you could manage to stumble back the way you came, it was highly likely a predator of some sort would find you, before you managed to escape the forest’s boundaries. Domaap continues to stare at you, cocking his head left and right as he scratches his scalp with a finger. The familiarity seems to have faded from his expression, and all you can see in those eyes now is a strange sort of curiosity, as if you were the first human he had ever laid eyes on.

At this point, it’s rather clear. You have no choice but to do as he suggested, or else risk being lost in this jungle for the rest of your days. You brace yourself, then walk resolutely to the leaf. The water is still, completely undisturbed as you peer over the leaf’s edge. You can just make out the shadow of your face, but nothing else. A single drop falls from the tree above to ripple the surface, and you cup your hands nervously, before reaching out to take the liquid.

The cold water raises goosebumps on your skin as the excess runs down your arms, while you tip your hands up to slurp at the water. Your throat tingles for a moment, and you clear it forcibly to relieve the sensation. Then you look up at the monkey again, take a deep breath, and sigh. ‘Here goes,’ you think to yourself. “Domaap?”

The monkey looks your way. “About time you took the hint,” he groused as he dropped to the jungle floor. He smoothed back his messy hair, then hunched forward to lean on his knuckles again. “If you’re that hesitant, there’s no way you’ll be able to face the master and win.”

“What … was that? I mean, I assume we’re talking monkey, but it all sounds like English to me.”

Domaap shrugged. “The water is mixed with nectar from blossoms on the tree. The nectar drops when the pool is ready, sort of like the tree already knows. You’re lucky. You got a fresh dose. That means you’ll be able to speak with and understand us a lot longer than most.”

“And what happens when there’s more nectar than water?”

Domaap grinned, baring his sharper incisors. “Then the forest really likes you,” he said mysteriously. Then he turned, and waved his hand behind him. “Come on. Master Sarvak won’t wait forever, and he’ll have my tail, if I don’t get you to him soon.”

You walk nervously behind him as the creaking of tree boughs and the occasional whisper rushes past your ears. The longer you travel, the more prominent the voices seem to become.

“Fifty bananas says the newbie doesn’t even make it to the game,” one says.

“Twenty on chickening out,” another clamors.

You blush as you hear another voice ask whether you’re single.

“Pay no attention to them,” Domaap suggested as he looked to the trees.

“So, bananas are currency here?” you ask, desperate to change the subject and follow his advice.

Domaap shrugged. “Bananas, other fruits, sometimes tools or services. It varies. After all, what’s a game without a little betting on the side, eh?”

“How many have you bet on?”

“Oh, a few,” he said modestly as he brushed his knuckles over his chest. “I understand you humans better than most. It gives me an advantage. Honestly, though, what I’d like to do is explore the forest more. Being Master’s servant is fulfilling, and I am happy to do it, but I can’t go very far, unless I’m bringing new guests to him. The others tell me about all these places in the forest, and I can’t go, because Master needs me. It’s how most of the others get back at me for winning.”

“And how long did you say you’d been serving him again?”

“As long as I’ve been in this forest, so pretty much all my life,” Domaap said. The air seemed to waver around him momentarily as the fog swept over his shorts. You blink in surprise to try to ease the strange sense of strain that’s suddenly assailed your eyes. A few moments and one eye rub later, you open your eyes to see an emerald-green loin cloth wrapped tightly around his waist and nether region. It pops brightly against his dark fur, leaving little to the imagination. “Master has been very kind.”

“I … see that,” you say as the pit in your stomach sinks even lower. Desperate to take your mind away from that foreboding sensation, you decide to change the course of the conversation. “The trees here are so large. The forest must be very old.”

Domaap chuckles as he leaps onto a low-lying branch, and swings lazily, before somersaulting in the air, and landing perfectly back on the forest floor again. “Master made it himself, long ago. No woodcutters here, no developers. The forest protects itself, protects us. Master called it … alchemy, I think.”

“He made all this with alchemy?” You look up at the thick trunks, the spidering boughs, the heavy green vegetation casting the forest in an unearthly light. You take another breath of the mist, and a hint of something floral catches your senses, almost like a pollen.

“Yup. He helped the forest grow, develop ways to protect itself, even communicate sometimes. You could say … she’s sort of like a mother to us.” Domaap pauses at that, and rubs a hand appreciatively against one of the massive trunks. The boughs rustle, and the perfume becomes stronger for a few moments. Then you look up to see a blossom floating gently down. Its petals are a fiery orange tinged with licks of yellow and red near the edges.

A mischievous breeze stirs the mist, directing the flower’s course, until it lands in the monkey’s cupped hands. Beads of moisture shone like jewels along the flower’s petals as the two of you stare. Then Domaap lifts the flower up to his nose, and takes a deep breath. You watch in utter disbelief as the dark fur around his face begins to shift. It’s subtle at first, but like a ripple in a pond, a wave of color suddenly rushes out, consuming his head fur, then rolling over the rest of him. Fiery red blazed down his back with golden streaks and the occasional cinder-like orange. The fur around his torso shone like sunlight as the gold became more pronounced. The gold, orange, and red coursed down his tail, merging into a brilliant band, before fading off to streaks of gray, black, and white at the very end. The very visage of the flower became etched on either bicep just below the shoulder in black, not unlike the core from whence the stamen in the flower rose.

Your body feels tense, after seeing this latest transformation. Domaap looks at you in turn with a bashful smile. “That was … I suppose what you would call a kiss,” he says as he takes the blossom and mounts it by his ear, then clears his throat. “I’ll place it next to my hammock later. For now, it’s time you met Master. It won’t be much farther now. Come, come,” he waves as the two of you press on together.

The path isn’t nearly so difficult now, but your anxiety has reached a new level. Every shake of a bough, every stray breeze, every twig snap makes your heart hammer faster against your chest. You start to feel lightheaded, and you wonder if it’s you or the forest. “Does … does the forest ever … do things to people?”

“It wouldn’t be able to defend itself, if it couldn’t, now would it?” Domaap asked with a mischievous wink. “Don’t worry. You’re a guest. She won’t do anything to you, if you behave.”

“… Behave. Right….”

“She had fun with the last developers that came through here. They made good additions to the forest. You know, saplings, fungus, maybe a couple of predators.” He shrugged. “They don’t hunt us, of course. She won’t let them.”

“Predators….” You can hardly believe it.

“Well, that is what alchemy is, after all, isn’t it, changing the nature of one thing to make it another? Does it really matter whether it’s lead or a creature?”

“I suppose not,” you finally say. “It’s … not painful, though, is it?”

Domaap shrugged. “It depends on the visitor. If they deserve the pain, they’ll have pain. If they don’t, they won’t.”

“And … how do they know, the forest and Sarvak, I mean?”

“A little magic, a little alchemy, and maybe a game.” He grins at you. “Everyone loves games here.”

“And … if I meet your master, he’ll make me play a game with him.”

“Yup!” Domaap’s grin widens. “Don’t worry, his games are fun. He won’t let anybody hurt you.”

“It’s not getting hurt that I’m worried about,” you mutter back.

Domaap suddenly stops, and shoves out an arm to hold you back. A thick layer of leaves and brush stands before you, and the mist writhes out from the barrier. “We’re here. Make sure to mind your manners. We don’t take kindly to people who disrespect Master,” he warns. Then he reaches out to the leaves, and brushes them gently.

The foliage moves aside, rustling almost warningly as it parts. The fog washes over you in a wave, causing you to shudder, despite the warmer climate. You feel the strong leathery grip of a hand clasping yours firmly, and suddenly you find yourself stumbling through the curtain of fog into a massive clearing. Sunlight sparkles through the mist, causing the moist earth beneath your feet to emerge from hiding. Tiny specks of light dot the trees above you in boughs, where a series of vines and boughs appear to have grown together to form a series of shelters. These doubtless were the treehouses Domaap had mentioned earlier. Bamboo shoots and other forms of grass stuck up at various locations near the bases of the trees, stretching like fences to guard against intruders. There, in the center of the clearing, a tall, well-toned monkey balances on a gnarled wooden staff with one foot mounted on the top, while a second supported further down where the wood of the staff spiraled outwards, before tightening back up again in its downward course. His eyes are closed, but his fiery orange fur blazes in the misty clearing. His tail swishes idly behind him, its end a bright golden tassel that seems to trail sparks in the strange half-light of the clearing. Or was that just fireflies?

You blink a few times just to be sure, before returning your attention to the monkey man. His dark-chocolate-brown skin only served to further emphasize the brightness of his fur. You note how his ear twitches, and his lips curl up into a smile. He opens his eyes to expose playful golden orbs hemmed by red along the edges. His pupils are dark and probing as he peers up and down.

“So, this is our new arrival, hmm?” he asks as he looks you over. “Interesting.” He leaps up, performs a triple front flip, and lands gracefully on his hands and feet, before rising back onto his legs again. You do your best to keep your gaze away from the rather prominent bulge pressing against a blue loin cloth as he approaches you. “I’m guessing Domaap here has already explained the rules of our little home to you, yes?”

You gulp, and nod gently.

“Good. That will make this much easier. Domaap?”

Domaap steps forward and bows to Sarvak. “Yes, Master?”

“I want you to go join the others and harvest a couple of bushels of golden bananas.”

“Wh-what?” Domaap balks.

“You heard me. I want to have the prize ready for our guest. After all, one must be able to show an offering of good faith to one so brave.”

“But Master….”

“Now, Domaap.”

Domaap’s eyes grow unfocused for a moment. “Yes, Master. I’ll leave at once,” he says dazedly.

Sarvak reaches out, and pats Domaap on the head. “Good monkey. Treat yourself to a banana on your way back.

Domaap looks up adoringly at Sarvak. “Oh yes, Master. Thank you, Master!” He grins, baring his teeth, and exposing his sharp canines.

“Off you go, now. I want to play this game alone.”

You watch as Domaap scurries off with a few excited hoots of joy. He leaps onto a nearby tree, and the boughs shake as he jumps with practiced ease from branch to branch. If you hadn’t met him earlier, you’d have sworn he was a native.

“And score another one for me,” Sarvak says with a smirk, then chuckles. “I do so enjoy watching humans. They’re such funny little creatures, so assured in their own sense of superiority as the ‘dominant species,’” he says as he performs a set of air quotes for your benefit. “Give them a few changes, though, a little push here, a tiny nudge there, and … well, they don’t seem to care about being human anymore. Most of them rewrite their memories of their own accord.” He chuckles again, sighs, then shakes his head. “Humanity is overrated, anyway. You people are so focused on things like industrialization, a concept of money as power, boxing every little part of the world into your own standards and definitions, dismissing things like magic and potions with a contemptuous wave of the hand. After all, mankind is too advanced to believe in such things anymore,” he scoffs. “And they call us the ignorant savages.”

You gulp as the crushing realization of just how far in over your head you’ve gone practically shatters your psyche. Your body begins to shake, and you struggle to keep yourself together.

Sarvak takes one look at you, then sighs, and shakes his head as he clicks his tongue chidingly. “One of those, are you?” He’s by you faster than you can blink, and you feel his strong arm around your shoulders. His fur tickles where it brushes your neck and cheeks, but it feels warm enough, and … surprisingly, he doesn’t stink. “Look, I’m not some power-hungry spirit determined to take over the world, okay? And I’m not here to destroy humanity. Everything has its place in the world, even humans.” He shrugs as he leads you to a high-backed swing made from interwoven vines you’re certain wasn’t there when you first walked in. “I guess you could say I’m just the bookkeeper. I watch over my forest, take care of my charges, make sure they’re well fed and sheltered, maybe play a few pranks on visitors, if I feel like it. If anything, I’m more like an overprotective father than I am a ‘master.’” He chuckles at the wavering warble he added at the end, and despite yourself, you find your heartrate starting to slow. The shaking eases. He turns to smile at you, and you don’t see a hint of malice. If anything, you see … pity?

“Where exactly is this place, anyways?” you finally manage to say as he guides you to the vines and presses you firmly into the swing. He’s surprisingly strong. Then again, he’s a monkey. They’re supposed to be strong.

“Somewhere in some jungle in the world.” He shrugs. “The forest likes to move around from time to time.” He leans back, and a surge of spongy flora suddenly rises from the ground to meet him as he seats in an organic equivalent of an easy chair.

“This … is weird,” you finally admit, “and freaky.”

Sarvak shrugs. “Things like this always are for you humans. It’s par for the course, really. Anything else you wanted to talk about?”

You swallow nervously, then look back over to him. “Domaap said … the forest protects itself. It’s sentient, then?”

“I’d say closer to sapient, but yes. As you can see, she’s most considerate.” He smiles and pats the chair appreciatively. “Though she hasn’t exactly spoken yet, so it’s not entirely certain where she stands on that scale we mentioned earlier.”

“And people have tried to hurt her before?” You wince as you feel the vines tighten somewhat beneath you.

“Yes, they have,” Sarvak says softly. “Humans are always creating new ways to develop, or harvesting new ingredients for their medicine. I can’t fault them on the harvesting, but the destruction they bring about to do it sometimes borders on the ludicrous.” He shakes his head, then sighs. “So yes, we’ve had to defend ourselves a few times before. You could say that’s where the memories go, in part, when humans lose my games. The forest needs to know what advances man has made, so she can counter them in the event of an attack.”

“And how do humans find their way here?”

“How did you?”

“I … read a book.”

“Correction. You read a portion of a book, one you found on … the internet, I believe it’s called, isn’t it? You’re not even sure how you found it, but you read it, and here you are, waiting to get some easy money.”

You squirm under his knowing gaze. “Life’s been a little rough to me,” you say weakly.

“Go on,” he urges. “Tell me about it.”

You try to avoid his gaze.

“Eyes on me, please. It’s rude not to hold contact with a host,” he points out.

You fiddle with your hands, squirm a bit, but ultimately, little by little, you raise your head to face him.

“That’s better. Now, come along. Tell me the truth.”

You’re suddenly struck by a strange sense of vertigo, and you lean back in your makeshift swing for support. “I … I, uh….” And then you start. It comes haltingly at first. You want to obscure the details, leave your life your own, but the more you talk, the harder it is to keep your lies straight. You furrow your brow in confusion as you talk about dropping out of high school to live on your own. How was he doing this?

“Easy now. I won’t judge,” Sarvak promised. “I just like to hear the stories. Come now; tell me more. No more guilt. No more worries. No more fears. Just relax.” You hear the gentle creek of the vines in your seat, and you wonder idly when you’d started swinging. “Just look at me and relax. Let it all out. You’ll feel so much better, if you do. It’s always better to tell the truth, you know, don’t you agree?”

“I, uh … suppose so.” A sweet scent fills your nostrils, and you feel the gentle tickle of blossoms against your skin. “Mmm … smells … nice.” A light tingling rushes over your body, and you shudder as you feel the tension start to leave your muscles.

“See? You’re feeling better already. Come. Tell me more.”

And you do tell him more. You’re not sure how long you’ve been talking, when you suddenly see a rough wrinkled hand shoving something long and yellow in your face.

“Banana?” a familiar voice asks.

You break your contact with Sarvak for just a moment to stare up into the simian face. You feel dazed, thirsty. Your stomach growls.

“Thank you, Domaap. You can leave the bananas there,” Sarvak says casually. “And could you fetch our guest something to drink?”

Domaap grunts his acknowledgement and walks off into the underbrush again. You’re surprised to find yourself holding the proffered banana in your hand, already peeled.

“Go on. Eat,” Sarvak prods as he takes one from his own stalk. “I guarantee this will taste better than anything you’ve ever tasted out there before.” He bites it, swallows, then smiles as he stares at you. “Well, go on,” he prompts.

You look down at the banana. It almost seems to glow, but you’re sure that’s just a trick of your eyes. You sniff it, and smell a strong, sweet scent. A moment later, you’re staring bemusedly at an empty peel. A strong, fruity taste hangs in your mouth, and you look confusedly at the monkey across the way.

“Well, go on, big nose. There’s plenty more where that came from,” Sarvak presses. “Eat.”

And eat you do. Your nostrils flare, and you chomp down on banana after banana.

“That’s it. I told you they were better than anything else, didn’t I?” he asks.

“Yesh,” you acknowledge through puffed lips. Your jaw is working like a pair of pistons, but you don’t care. You don’t stop. You have to eat.

“To use a phrase one of my brethren were so keen on using, before he joined us, ‘it’ll put hair on your chest.’” He chuckled. “Among other places.”

You hold back after a time, and slouch into your seat. The vines are creaking more heavily now, and you blink your eyes sleepily as you brush some of your hair out of your face. You scratch at your stomach, and grunt at the strange pulling sensation you’re getting from your clothes. It’s rather uncomfortable. But then you’ve got a coconut cup shoved in your face, and you’re drinking something thick, smooth, and creamy. You forget about the strange sensation.

“Drink it all up,” Sarvak says. You do, and the strange bloating sensation you felt before is relieved, though not the tug of the clothing on your skin. Your brow furrows again, and you look up at the strange protrusion over your eyes. It’s bushy and thick, like a bunch of stray eyebrow hairs, but you don’t understand how that could be. You knead and pull at it, but that doesn’t seem to help. If anything, it seems to make it worse.

“Leave it,” Sarvak instructs, and you do so without a second thought.

“Time to talk again?” you ask. Your vocal chords feel strained. The itching sensation has increased, and things feel … almost swollen as you swallow again. You reach up to scratch an itch at the top of your head, and a thrill of pleasure flows down your body as you continue the action. You’re hardly aware of the strange pushing sensation against your kneading fingers. Indeed, you’re too enthralled in pleasure to be much aware of anything.

“That’s right,” Sarvak says gently. “But first, you need to relax more. Kick off those shoes. Stay a while. I think we’re close enough now to be past formalities, wouldn’t you say?”

You nod and grunt, since your mouth is too full of banana right now to respond properly. In a matter of seconds, your shoes are flying through the air, and land on either side of Sarvak’s chair. You wriggle your toes in your socks, and sigh.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Yes….”

“So much better without those pesky shoes.”

Your brow furrows. “Stupid things,” you grumble. Then the pleasure washes over you again, and you sigh as you lean back in the vines and stretch your feet on the clearing’s floor.

“That’s right. Now, where were we?”

And so you resume, and you look gladly, almost eagerly into his eyes this time. You’re struck by the occasional lightheadedness, but when that happens, you just grunt, and scratch yourself a little to give you time. You think Sarvak knows, but he’s so nice, just lets you do what you want, and smiles. He doesn’t even blink an eyelash when your clothes start to rip. He’s such a great guy. You really do like him, and he’s giving you all the bananas you could ask for. What a gracious host. You smile as you chew, and your swollen jaw shifts in proportion with the muscle strain. You hardly even notice the twin pops as your socks burst open, like the seams in your pants, to reveal rough, leathery feet. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself peeling bananas with your toes, then passing them up to your hands to chew.

“So there it is. I was just … tired, I guess,” you finally say from your spot on the ground. You twirl your last banana idly between your fingers as you readjust the remains of the vines into a nest, shoving the fragments of cloth in with some spare leaves growing within reach to form the extra padding. “Tired, and,” you yawn, “waiting … for someone like you.”

“And I’ve been waiting for someone like you,” Sarvak said intently. His eyes were so pretty. They seemed almost to glow as you stared into them. You felt so safe. “Domaap is an excellent servant, and he loves his duty, but he gets tired of being by my side so often, and he wants to explore the forest. I can’t say I blame him. She has much to offer, and she does so love surprising her children.” He sips from his own cup as he eyes you. “I don’t need more servants pampering me hand and foot.” He rises from his chair suddenly, and walks over to you. It’s … funny. You don’t remember him being so short before. He barely comes to your chest. “I need someone strong to support me, to protect me when people come with ill intent. Some come to steal from me sometimes. Others … others try to kill me.”

A guttural snarl rises naturally from your throat. “Why?” you demand harshly. Your eyes narrow. Your free hand clenches into a meaty fist as you bear your teeth. A tingling sensation runs over your jaw, and you’re hardly aware of how your canines have lengthened somewhat and your mouth has shoved forward with your new snout to form a sort of proto-muzzle as you snort angrily.

“Money, power, land, ingredients, reagents, fear, take your pick,” he sighed with a shrug. “The point is that I need someone to guard me, to protect me in the event someone tries when they get close. My little monkeys would be lost without me. And well, if I die….” He left it hanging in the air.

You struggle for a few minutes as you try to catch the monkey’s meaning. You know Sarvak wants you to finish it, but you’re not sure how. Then, slowly, a tiny bubble of memory bursts its way to the surface of your thoughts. He was the bookkeeper. He’d said that. Keeps earth’s books balanced, or … something like that. “Earth dies, too,” you finish gruffly.

“Exactly. Very good.”

You grin at his praise and puff out your chest proudly as you strike it with your fist. “I’m smart,” you grunt.

“Yes, very smart for such a big ape,” he agreed.

That … didn’t sound right … did it? But … Sarvak said to tell the truth, and … he was telling the truth, too, right? So … that means … you had to be an ape. But … but….

“Shhh….” He hushes you gently as he pulls your head down to stare at him again. “Our game is nearly over, my massive friend.”

Those eyes….

“Very nearly over, over the edge, over your old life, over humanity.”

“O … ver….” You can’t look away. You hoot gently, meekly, to voice that small piece of concern, so very small compared to the bulk you now feel in your body, that raw brute strength.

“But here’s where the game gets interesting. See, I’m going to take a risk, my friend. I’m going to give you a choice. True, it’s only fifty-fifty, but it’s a gamble all the same, which makes it such a wonderful game. You can go back to that old life of yours with a dead-end job and nowhere to go. I’d even be willing to part with some of my valuables to send you on your way, let you live the life you always wanted over there: comfortable, peaceful, rich. Of course, you’d likely end up living in some city high rise with all those noisy cars and rowdy neighbors, and you’d be doing everything in your power to protect the valuables in the first place. Honestly, it’s far too stressful, in my opinion.”

His tail flicks over your vision, and the bright lights make your head feel all funny and fuzzy as he taps the edge on the banana in your hand. The peel starts to glow with a gentle golden light, just like the tail. It feels warm, and a light tingle passes from it into your much larger hand. “The other option, my friend, is quite simple, and you like simple, don’t you?”

You feel your head nodding. Simple was good. You liked simple.

“All you have to do is eat that banana. Do that, and you can stay here, where it’s simple, calm, peaceful. You’ll have all the fruits you could ever want, including our long yellow friends there,” he added with a wink. “You can be my guard, someone to watch my back, intimidate any people who get the wrong idea about their visits here. You know, the ones who want to hurt me.”

You growl again as the haze of anger descends.

“You can teach them a lesson, make them understand how wrong they are. I can show you how.” The tail caresses under your chin. “How to be dominant. How to lead them. How to reform them. Or, if you prefer, well, you can do it the other way, I suppose.”

“Other … way?” you hoot, confused.

“Oh, you know, like when you break a twig. I don’t like killing, but if it comes down to it, sometimes you have to.” He shrugged. “That would be completely up to you, of course. But there’s no need to think about that right now. No need to think at all.” He’s staring at you gain, and your eyes are locked with his. “Thinking is over now. You don’t think much now anyway, do you? You prefer to act.”

“A-a-aaahhhhct….” Eyes … so pretty … so … nice…. Thinking over. No think.

“So act. Eat or don’t eat. Choose now, you silly ape.”

For just a moment, images flash through your mind. You see the small apartment you rent, the abusive manager, the cursing roommates, the mocking “friends.” You look at the banana, and your mind clears as the full impact of what that choice would mean blazes through the fog like a comet. Then you look down at Sarvak, those glowing eyes, that sultry voice. He was kind, hospitable, friendly, and he was offering you a new life in a place where you would be well taken care of, where you could decide your fate without other people to boss you around, well, except for Sarvak. He would technically be your boss, since you’d be his guard, but that was beside the point. It was beautiful here, beautiful like those eyes. So … beautiful.

And just like that, the comet passes, and the darkness rushes in to fill its place. Funny words like choose, ape, and simple echo over and over in the caverns of your mind, and they keep getting louder the longer you stare at the banana. You scratch at the ridge on top of your head, and the pleasure calms you. The darkness thickens. The caverns expand. Somewhere, deep down, you feel something give. You grunt. You hoot. You peel the banana, and as you raise it to your dimming eyes, you fumble for the words that will seal your fate. “I’m just a big, dumb ape.”

You take the bite, and Master Sarvak smirks as you polish off the banana and toss the peel aside with the last vestiges of your humanity. You shudder in pleasure as Master Sarvak speaks, “Yes, you are, Pumbavu. Yes, you are.”

You are Pumbavu.

You are a dumb ape.

And you are happy to serve your new master until THE END.

A Final Service

The demotion had been painful, the discharge even worse. Now Patrick Konahee stood in the empty white testing room with little more than a pair of boxer briefs that clung to his frame. He hadn’t been allowed the chance to serve his country properly. He’d been slandered, maligned, mocked, betrayed. But he still loved his country, an he wanted to serve however he could. No one would know of the advances he helped to make possible, but at least he would have done something for the people he loved.

“Are you ready, Mister Konahee?” the doctor’s voice asked over the loudspeaker.

“I am,” Patrick replied.

“Then we’ll begin the test now.” A warped screen not unlike an old television monitor rose on a hydraulics system, until it reached Konahee’s height.

“All right, Mister Konahee. Stare into the screen, please.”

Patrick did as he was bid. After all that military training he’d received it was almost instinctual to follow the orders of a superior. He caught a brief glimpse of his striking blue eyes and carefully coiffed hazel hair, before the device clicked on and began to hum. A plain white light pulsed gently over the glass.

“Okay, what now?” Patrick asked.

“Just keep staring, Mister Konahee, and don’t stop until we tell you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Patrick said. He continued to stare ahead, blinking occasionally as his eyes required. A creeping tingling sensation passed over his skin, and his hairs stood on end. “Sir, I’m getting a case of goosebumps. Don’t know if it’s me or the device, but I thought you ought to know.”

“Yes, yes, Mister Konahee. Thank you for the update. Now please, keep staring. Rest assured, our monitoring equipment is catching all the relevant data.”

Patrick continued to stare. A dull prickling began at the base of his chin. He scratched it, and was surprised to feel the gentle scraping of a few stray pieces of stubble.

‘Odd. I could’ve sworn I got it all when I shaved this morning,’ he thought to himself.

The humming intensified and the white light suddenly felt much less boring. The tingling became stronger, and Patrick could swear he heard the whisper of hair scraping hair as he slowly opened his mouth to gape at the screen. His pupils began to dilate as a ring of black developed around the blue of his irises, creating a striking gaze. His brow furrowed, and stray hairs drooped over the edges of his vision.

“Uh, Sirs, I’m starting to feel a little ... funny,” Patrick said. He grunted and scratched at an itch on the bridge of his nose, where the beginnings of tawny hairs had sprouted to match the hairs at the upper portion of what was rapidly becoming a fully developed beard.

“Keep staring, Mister Konahee.”

“But--.” Patrick let out a low groan. His voice cracked as his nostrils flared and began to rise. His clean-cut features became more rugged as the sharp angles of his jaw and cheek bones gradually began to press out, becoming more apparent.

“Relax, Mister Konahee.”

Patrick hunched forward as thick hairs began to sprout over his chest, arms, and the backs of his hands. He panted, and his shoulders broadened as deep furrows carved their way across his forehead. His skin thickened and began to darken as he grunted and scratched casually at his crotch. A dull smile pulled at his lips, exposing the hints of more prominent teeth, particularly his canines.

“That’s right. Just let go, Mister Konahee. Do what comes naturally.”

A loud crack sounded as Patrick’s skull began to shift, creating a natural slope that rose up into a cone atop his thickening and darkening hair. An ominous creaking was soon followed by a loud crunch as Patrick’s ribcage expanded forcefully. His chest heaved as his grunts devolved into low growls and guttural exclamations. His brow slowly swelled into a shelf-like border that overshadowed the blue of his iris and darkened it as his pupils continued to gain more prominence.

His legs bowed as calves and thighs gained mass and the arch in his feet dropped flat with a loud pop. Toes expanded and lengthened into prehensile digits, including a thumb, while his arms lengthened and his fists struck proudly against his swelling pectorals. Biceps, triceps, and flexors quadrupled in size as his new coat of fur consumed them. By now, his skin had become black and leathery. Fabric popped and tore apart as he dropped forward onto his knuckles and his back snapped to realign with this new posture.

Nose and palate jutted forward with his jaw to create a beastly maw. Lastly, his body swelled into immensity as a silver patch appeared on his back between the shoulder blades arching down.

The new gorilla huffed and panted as it stared at the screen. Its limbs trembled. Finally, it dropped to the floor, rendered completely unconscious. The whining and humming died as the screen shut off. A large bowl full of fruits and various bugs soon rose from the floor, alongside a great bowl filled with water.

“It appears the experiment was a success,” the doctor said as he pressed another button, lowering the screen on the strange monitor to reveal a weapon not unlike a glue gun in its design. “Devolution is, indeed, a possibility. We need only enhance the rate of the weapon to ensure it can transform its target quickly.” He smirked and turned to his aide. “Get word to the President. Project Regress is a go.”

A Costly Boast Patreon Preview

Jackson smirked as he finished posting on his tumblr feed. Sure, the pic had been more of a joke at the time, but he did look good, and he knew his watchers would want to see more of his sculpted body and rugged features. He was a magnet for both men and women, after all.

I’m the biggest gorilla in the forest. 

He’d added the caption at the end for the sake of the persona he’d developed for his web posts. And, he had to admit, if did feel good to show off.

With his work finished, he shut down his computer and grabbed his cell phone. It was time for another nature walk. He strode out in his cargo shorts and grinned up at the sun. Winter had passed at last, and the sheer amount of green was enough to make anyone’s head spin. It was simple enough to pass along the trail behind his house and admire the view it afforded. The sight of the river and buildings in the distance always left him in a pensive state of mind.

After he’d spent enough time musing over the view, he reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. Might as well check for any replies.

Jackson smirked at the number of likes and reblogs. His body was definitely a popular commodity. Then he scrolled down to the comment and frowned.

A user named Goodf3ll0w had written, As you boast, so shall it be. A special gift to you from me.

Jackson frowned and scratched at his head. “The hell...?” he muttered.

To read the rest, consider joining my patreon. For as little as a dollar a month, you’ll be able to see my stories first thing on my patreon account. Higher pledges gain greater rewards. And trust me, this is definitely a story you’ll want to see.

I may post it to the general public in a couple of weeks. We’ll see. Anyways, thanks for reading, and for those who chose to do so, for contributing. :D

~Omni

Making New Ties

Kain finally landed a job interview at the company of his dreams. There was just one problem. He had no tie to look professional for the interview so he had to go find one. Kain’s phone led him to a spot called Magic Ties, with raving reviews that claimed that their ties were magical and “changed their lives”. Kain felt like they were overexaggerating that a tie could change their lives, but he had to get a good tie somewhere.

“How can i help you?” a buff but old looking clerk greeted Kain as he entered the establishment.

“Oh, it’s just that I really want a good tie for my interview I’m having soon. Do you got any recommendations?” Kain was slightly checking the old man out and the clerk noticed this and a mental lightbulb struck the clerk.

“I think I got the perfect tie. Right this way!” The clerk led Kain to a another section of the establishment and stopped at rack in the very far corner.

“Here it is!” The clerk grabbed a bright tied with the letters “DK” etched onto it and gave it to Kain

“Wait isn’t this the tie that ape wears in Mario? Why would I want to wear that?!” Kain giving the tie back to the clerk, but the clerk moved his hands out in a rapid motion leaving it in Kain’s

“Just try it on and see what you think. Better to not to jump to conclusions if you ask me. The mirror’s over there if you’re wondering.” The clerk left with a bit of a smug smile, leaving Kain alone.

“Yea well you’ll see! I’ll look terrible in this!” Kain stomped to the mirror the clerk pointed at and put the tie on and to his shock, the tie looked good on him maybe even amazing.

“Wow I actually look great in this. It reminds me of when I used to hop across the trees of jungl- wait I never did that?!” Kain’s new tie started to glow.

Kain’s feet started to crunch and grow into it was like hands in turn absolutely destroying his footwear. Next his entire body grew to that of a large gorilla, giving Kain hands just as large as his feet hands, a new large chest and arms he used to hop from tree to tree. The rest of his clothes stood no chance to that new bulk leaving Kain naked with nothing but his new tie. Next the bottom half of his face started to protrude out greatly giving him a more ape like snout than human, eventually morphing his face to that of a gorilla. 

“Ook Eeek Oo- AAA???” (No way... The tie is making me becoming that ap- and now i’m speaking like a ape too???)  In the sea of panic, brown fur covered Kain’s entire body except his hands, pecs and stomach, eventually ending on the top of his now gorilla head with a dollop like a banana, the thing he loves so much. Kain had now become the famous Donkey Kong.

“Ook Ook !! Eek?” (I can’t go to my interview like this !! What am I supposed to do?) Kain tried to remove the tie but to no avail. He was stuck like this new large ape, possibly forever. As he was lost in his own confusion, the store dissipated into a lush jungle full of trees of vines. 

“Ook? OOK!” (What the- WOAH!) As Kain looked around this new environment, new memories surfaced into his mind as his brain became smaller. Gone were the memories of worrying for some interview and what was now there was the joy of swinging from vine to vine as Kain or should I say Donkey Kong ate his delicious bananas from his horde.

“Eek Eek!” (I have to go find Diddy!) and with Donkey Kong’s almighty power, he went from vine to vine to find his precious friend for another adventure that he loved so dearly.

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