{ "submission_id": "3695532", "keywords": [ { "keyword_id": "944", "keyword_name": "deer", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "31296" }, { "keyword_id": "123", "keyword_name": "female", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "1114095" }, { "keyword_id": "41089", "keyword_name": "gender transformation", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "1542" }, { "keyword_id": "165", "keyword_name": "male", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "1226102" }, { "keyword_id": "3223", "keyword_name": "male to female", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "1342" }, { "keyword_id": "690", "keyword_name": "masturbation", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "48779" }, { "keyword_id": "75751", "keyword_name": "sun bear", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "231" }, { "keyword_id": "48133", "keyword_name": "tftg", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "2518" }, { "keyword_id": "1242", "keyword_name": "tg", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "2837" }, { "keyword_id": "1874", "keyword_name": "tongue out", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "22187" }, { "keyword_id": "34847", "keyword_name": "tongue play", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "375" }, { "keyword_id": "1336", "keyword_name": "transformation", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "45091" } ], "hidden": "f", "scraps": "f", "favorite": "f", "favorites_count": "0", "create_datetime": "2025-08-29 06:49:31.983288+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "29 Aug 2025 08:49 CEST", "last_file_update_datetime": "2025-08-29 06:47:09.830679+00", "last_file_update_datetime_usertime": "29 Aug 2025 08:47 CEST", "username": "Caffee", "user_id": "1513686", "user_icon_file_name": "452635_Caffee_caffref300px.jpg", "user_icon_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/large/452/452635_Caffee_caffref300px.jpg", "user_icon_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/medium/452/452635_Caffee_caffref300px.jpg", "user_icon_url_small": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/452/452635_Caffee_caffref300px.jpg", "file_name": "5696837_Caffee_a_doozy_of_a_day_to_bear_with.txt", "file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/5696/5696837_Caffee_a_doozy_of_a_day_to_bear_with.txt", "file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/5696/5696837_Caffee_a_doozy_of_a_day_to_bear_with.txt", "file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/5696/5696837_Caffee_a_doozy_of_a_day_to_bear_with.txt", "files": [ { "file_id": "5696837", "file_name": "5696837_Caffee_a_doozy_of_a_day_to_bear_with.txt", "file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/5696/5696837_Caffee_a_doozy_of_a_day_to_bear_with.txt", "file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/5696/5696837_Caffee_a_doozy_of_a_day_to_bear_with.txt", "file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/5696/5696837_Caffee_a_doozy_of_a_day_to_bear_with.txt", "mimetype": "text/plain", "submission_id": "3695532", "user_id": "1513686", "submission_file_order": "0", "full_size_x": null, "full_size_y": null, "screen_size_x": null, "screen_size_y": null, "preview_size_x": null, "preview_size_y": null, "initial_file_md5": "a073eec5a0bcbf1948bca9f4c778487e", "full_file_md5": "a073eec5a0bcbf1948bca9f4c778487e", "large_file_md5": "", "small_file_md5": "", "thumbnail_md5": "", "deleted": "f", "create_datetime": "2025-08-29 06:47:09.830679+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "29 Aug 2025 08:47 CEST" } ], "pools": [], "description": "Sooo this one is my first go at posting smut outright! Unfortunately, it was also a bit of a bear to contend with writer's block to get it out (heh). Because of this, I'm terribly sorry for any shortcomings within, as I know for certain it's not my best work - I simply had to get it out the door before I failed to finish it all <<'\n\nThat said, it was request by [url=https://www.furaffinity.net/user/sunderlovely]sunderlovely [/url]and a gift for a friend of writing out the transformation for which she reclaimed one of her oldest characters!... with some hot antics at the end because bear tongues are fun. 3,316 words.\n\nAs always, any critiques or comments are appreciated, even if it's other situations you'd like to see written!", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Sooo this one is my first go at posting smut outright! Unfortunately, it was also a bit of a bear to contend with writer's block to get it out (heh). Because of this, I'm terribly sorry for any shortcomings within, as I know for certain it's not my best work - I simply had to get it out the door before I failed to finish it all <<'

That said, it was request by sunderlovely and a gift for a friend of writing out the transformation for which she reclaimed one of her oldest characters!... with some hot antics at the end because bear tongues are fun. 3,316 words.

As always, any critiques or comments are appreciated, even if it's other situations you'd like to see written!", "writing": " It was a cool, musty afternoon in the early autumn of a forest somewhere in North America that found itself interrupted with the periodic crunches of cloven hooves on mildly wetted, rotting leaves. The perpetrator was a fairly unassuming young buck, dressed in torn shorts and an over-sized orange hoodie. The only thing noteworthy about the cervid was his striking pink hair, dyed in a blatant display of the rejection of social norms… or something. He’d long ago convinced himself that the argument he’d made when doing it was fairly deflated when you considered that his favorite color was also pink. \n\n But none of that had anything to do with him being out in the relatively recent chill of early autumn, wistfully stumbling through the fallen leaves and waning underbrush. Instead, he was taking time to think, to breathe, to simply take a step away from it all. College was a rough contender, rougher than he’d considered possible, and the rage from quite how unfair the entire ordeal felt was starting to pile on. It wasn’t his fault, after all, that the courses were a disorganized mess, or that his professors couldn’t seem to communicate a thought clearly for the life of them. It wasn’t his fault, either, that work was proving to be just as frustrating in the wake of it. Part time wasn’t paying as much as he’d hoped, after all. Certainly not enough to overtake the stress of how he was treated by customer and coworker alike. \n\n And so he took solace in the woods, the quiet, the natural. Even if his heckles stayed raised at the barest thought of anything with teeth. Who knew what was in the woods nowadays! So much as everyone was so sure that the likes of the mountain lion and the wolf were long gone, there were still bears and coyotes to contend with! And that was if you even believed that the first two were truly gone! He’d heard far too much in the dark of the night to truly believe much of anything about the woods. But at least in the bright light of day, and the relative clarity of a late season, he could manage a relatively safe nature walk, with little to no true interruptions. \n\n For this purpose, he allowed his eyes to wander, from the massive pines to the other various trees he struggled to identify, the tree cover was surprisingly sparse here, though he supposed that might’ve had something to do with the nature trail. They did tend to trim the nature around them after all, to keep them safe for people that might not know the dangers of falling trees or hidden predators, poisonous plants, or anything else less than friendly. \n\n He’d even heard of things like rabbits attacking, in some cases! And don’t even get him started on the risk of rabies. He hadn’t even gotten his shots for it, after all. Something he was rapidly coming to regret as he trudged through mud and leaf litter. Crossing a small stream, he marveled at the mosses that coated quite literally everything in the vicinity, including the bridge over the small tributary, though his eyes were truly looking for small, brightly colored caps. If there was one thing that the buck was known for, it was a rapt fascination with mycology. Even if he wasn’t familiar enough to identify exactly what they were, he knew where some could be looked for or found – at least, so he thought, and that was an exciting prospect for someone who rarely traveled outside of the lawn. \n\n There were snakes and insects to contend with, sure, but mushrooms could get him past his myriad fears and discomforts in a flash as a consistent motivator. He didn’t truly want to eat them, even, merely watch the small colonies go about their lives for a few minutes, marveling at how simply they did so. The bobble head in his car, and the plushies upon his shelves in the dorm said all that needed to be said about how cute he thought they were. \n\n Alas, there were none to be found in this particular creek. Not that he could see without risking slipping or getting his hooves any more wet or messy than they already were, anyway. And so he moved on with a disgruntled sigh. There were always other places to look, after all. Fallen trees were one of the many things that his brain was starting to register the lack of, but the forestry service didn’t come out nearly often enough to have caught all of them, and while some part of his mind whispered to wander of trail, if only a short distance, he shook his head to free himself of such a horrid thought. Off trail was dangerous, even if it wasn’t far. It was where animals could be found more readily, where there wasn’t a guaranteed safe place to step. It was simply too big a risk. \n\n That was, until he had wandered for another five minutes, and come across a hulking log, peeking over the edge of what must have been a ravine, nearly out of sight. A massive tree that had fallen… at some point before he’d come along. Even his meager knowledge base was enough to tell him that it was one of the best places to find his distracting quarries. It was a massive source of food for them, after all. He paced, mumbling to himself for several minutes, eyeing the black stump hanging over the ground, before his right hoof left the trail. Curiosity had made the decision for him.\n\n The young buck squirmed and cringed as his hooves sunk into the dark mud beneath them, clearly the ground was not nearly as well compacted or worn as he had expected from the trail, and though it was cold and disgusting, he was well aware that it could simply washed away after he’d returned to the dorm. If only that made it feel any less disgusting. \n\n Much as he liked mushrooms and flowers, he did have to begrudgingly admit that he was the furthest thing from an outdoorsman, far too strongly afflicted with OCD to be able to handle the less savory aspects of nature itself, pretty as the wider whole may have been. \n\n At least it would be worth it, he thought to himself, just as much an assurance as self-encouragement – mushrooms loved downed logs such as this, after all. \n\n Even more fuel for why his ears and expression fell as the entire black mass came into view, and it didn’t even appear to have so much as moss or lichens clinging to it, let alone mushrooms. Disappointment and heartbreak rapidly started to boil into something else as he shifted, cringing at another squelch between his toes. This had been a waste of time and discomfort entirely, and all he had wanted was to what was objectively a common form of life. But apparently nature had other plans for him. \n\n His eyes closed as he sighed, allowing the weight of his antlers to carry his head back almost painfully to stare skywards. Was it really so much, after all, to want to see something interesting? \n\n It was then that he opened them once again, and jolted at the sight of a massive bee hive hanging off of a branch, seemingly entirely devoid of life in its’ dull yellow mass. The hive wasn’t of a shape he’d seen before, a uniform partial disc that hung from the lower edge of the branch it clung to, where the local bees he’d read about and seen always seemed to work in a terraced structure, irregular chunks that joined to create a malformed bulge wherever they decided to hive. \n\n Part of him wondered if there was any honey in it, a devious smile pulling at his muzzle as his tongue peeked from his lips, licking across them in rapt anticipation of how his reward may taste, if there was anything. It was pretty late in the season, so there was no guarantee, but it would at least be a fun attempt to make, he was sure of that much. \n\n It was due to these thoughts that he picked up a nearby rock on a whim, not bothering to move before hefting it, looking skywards once more, and reared, preparing to let fly. \n\n Unfortunately, some portion of his brain had failed to truly process the significance what may be referred to as gravity, and his lack of sporty prowess. All told, it was an impeccably lucky shot, the stone smashing through the dull, off-colored combs with a quiet crackle, before arcing off of the branch behind it with a loud thunk, ricocheting off into the woods beyond. His lack of prowess had gone unpunished, but that left his lack of consideration for gravity, and his positioning. \n\n That, in turn, did go punished. The hive crackled and crumpled, honey stringing from it in great globs as the destroyed combs began to leak, their caps and walls destroyed. He had done just enough damage for the hive’s own weight to work against it, and before he could realize his mistake, the multi-pound block of wax and honey came crashing down to the forest floor below – with him between the two. It smashed into his face with surprising force, sending him crumpling to the ground even as the splash of gooey orange and yellow stores coated the rest of his entire form in a thick layer of sweet smelling ooze. \n\n It dripped from him in massive strings, droplets hanging in air before they fell to the ground around him, or in some cases, dripped from his chin to his chest and stomach. \n\n All told, it was surprisingly warm against the near chill of the autumn morning, especially when he stopped to consider the strange fact, thankful as he may be for it, that there hadn’t seemed to be any bees home even inside of the hive, it was filled almost uniformly with the stuff, and only then did he realize the off-season nature of it all.\n\n However, the young buck wasn’t familiar with insects, and he never claimed to like bees, let alone understand them or their mysterious ways, so he couldn’t hazard too strong a guess as to why they’d abandoned the hive, filled with so much of what seemed perfectly clean and usable, at least to his unpracticed nose. Maybe they’d run off to hibernate, or whatever it was that bees did when the season wasn’t in their favor. \n\n For now, however, the warmth was only rising against his skin, and the sickening sweetness of the ooze assaulted his senses, begging him to lick it. To taste it. He wasn’t one to tell his senses no.\n\n The honey stuck to his tongue as though it was a natural glue, thick and heavy with sugars and a strange spice that his tongue couldn’t quite place, tickling at the back of his mind as he groaned once again – this time not in pain, but in pleasure. It had only been a few seconds since he had made a mess of himself, and already his core temperature was rising rapidly, seemingly out of control as he began to feel feverish, sweat beading beneath his fur as something built, small bubblings and grumblings emanating from somewhere in his stomach. \n\n Whether or not he realized any of it was out of the ordinary was another matter entirely, his brain short circuiting in the saccharine smell, as his pupils dilated, and his breathing wavered. Before he even knew what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all, his tongue flicked out once again, dragging in a wide, purposeful arc across the tip of his muzzle. It cramped and twisted as it did so, twitching and arcing with sparks of electric jolts beneath the overstimulating sweetness. \n\n Something about it… spoke to him. Spoke to his senses. Intoxicating in all of its’ wondrous complicated sweetness. \n\n Unfortunately for him, it also spoke to his body, bones clicking and shifting as muscle bulged and displaced, his fur darkening everywhere but in a small arc across his chest, all while his cloven hooves split and retreated, forming claws and additional digits as they slowly became paws, broadening by the moment. If he has been more aware of his surroundings, he may have realized that other things were changing as well, his tongue lengthening, allowing him to reach farther and farther, one second he could clean his nose, then soon after, he was becoming increasingly capable of cleaning his entire muzzle – wrapping the protrusion in a long, pulsing pink tongue as it broadened beneath his own ministrations. \n\n His stomach continued to bubble, slowly bloating as it filled out into an innocently soft paunch, his nipples splitting on his chest into six different small nubs, before migrating lower. One set settled further down his chest from the originals, the other – far lower, trailing quietly across his body as they shifted, eventually coming to rest on his hipline. His clothes wasted little time in shattering, strained stitches exploding as the fabric fell from his frame, entirely ignored.\n\n Beneath those, his genitals rearranged, pulsing and squirming as they rewound the genetic clock while simultaneously shifting forms, shrinking and shying away from view in time with his fur lengthening, leaving merely the barest hints of a slit hidden beneath the dense fuzz. \n\n The strangest changes of all had barely even taken place however, his, or rather - her head aching quietly as her entire skull rearranged, broadening widely in fits and spurts of violent, disorienting growth. Her muzzle followed suit, broadening even more beneath her tongue even as it snaked nearly over her eyes in search of more honey, lathering himself in a honey-mixed saliva. At the tip of the shifting front of her face, her nose broadened, and retreated from her lip as it came to a bearlike taper. Her lips in turn loosened, drooping lazily as new muscles formed behind them. \n\n Behind all of that flesh, her teeth bulged, fell away, and then were rapidly replaced by new dentition, sharper, broader, built more for slicing than the crushing and rolling of what come before. It ran from the back of her gums forwards, slowly readjusting one pair at a time. \n\n By the end, she groaned quietly as a newly minted set of canines sprouted where previously no such thing had been in place, completing the deceptively innocent but surprisingly dangerous layout of the ursine variety. \n\n Smaller changed rolled in quietly beneath her skin as her neck broadened, her shoulders blending into the sail-like shape while her claws continued to pulse longer, lazy eyes glancing at them blindly as each nail reached a length nearly equal to the digit that it tipped. Soon they fell to other uses, however, as her breasts ached, lurched, and budded forwards, each set growing farther than the last as it trailed down her body. The lowermost pair pressed against her thighs innocently from where they perched, gravity taking possession of their soft mass, the two pairs high above them on her chest barely sagging against her chest well in their significantly diminished size and weight by comparison. \n\n Her ears had long since started to broaden, shortening to complete the transformation into the small, rounded bulbs of many bears. Where only a few minutes before had sat a young buck of only 5’8, anxious and unsure of anything in the area, now sat a disinterested, honey-intoxicated sun bear sow of 6’0. \n\n The heat in her core, however, remained as strong as ever. If anything, it only continued to build as she lapped at her arms and chest, tongue imbibing more and more of the flavorful honey that coated her body, small grunts and groans of rising excitement rattling from her chest. She simply couldn’t down it quickly enough. \n\n \n Her paws continued to idly mash at the breast-flesh that clung to her front in the meantime, digging lazily at the lowermost set with a hungry idleness that only raised in insistence with time, her tongue flicking idly across the higher sets, lingering across slicked nipples, a humming moan rumbling from her chest as saliva pooled against them and she felt every single taste bud from both perspectives, her rough tongue rattling over them in a pressing arc. \n\n Unfortunately, as massively long as it may have been, hanging almost to her navel as she sat and panted upon clearing the next nipple one more time, it was after all still only a finite length, and thus she could not make an endless loop of the gentle caressing. \n\n No matter. Her paws could still help, a claw dipping lower, pressing between her legs as her claws searched for a sensitive opening she’d never seen. She didn’t need to. The honey made it incredibly clear where it was, pulsing angrily with a greedy heat that left a steaming huff leaping from her muzzle at the barest brush.\n\n It made her hunger for more, a tensing in her loins demanding something more forceful, something more readily able to probe – something warm, and soft, muscular and lubricated. \n\n Something long. \n\n Her brain wasted little time in putting the pieces together, a needy moan leaving her muzzle once again as she spread her legs, ignoring the cold wetness of the mud that clung to her rump and the back of her thighs, instead more focused on the task at hand as she bent around the hip, tucking her hand-paws beneath her thighs, pulling them upwards as she fell backwards with a breathless -whumf-. \n\n Her own breath tickled at the fur over her small feminine bulb, steaming humidity clinging to the densely packed hairs as she nuzzled between her own teats, cheeks insulated by the soft flesh. \n\n It was then that her tongue slipped past her lips once again, probing carefully, excitedly as it searched across the sensitive area. It pressed idly at the small pucker of her tail-hole, coating it in honey-tinted saliva like it had all before, probing ever so quietly as it pressed at the center of the small bulb. \n\n But then the drooping of the length of her tongue beyond, where it snaked back towards her muzzle, brushed the sensitive folds that lay above her current focus, a small gasp leaping from her as she jolted past the electric shock of overwhelming need. She froze for but a moment, before the long, tentacle-like rope of her tongue curled backwards, barely hesitating before it delved deeply into her own form, shuddering breaths shifting past her lips as she let out ursine huffs and groans in time with every shifting pulse, her tongue flatting, folding, probing, snaking hungrily as it pressed inches past the surface, lapping at her own tunnels in all of its’ rough textured warmth. \n\n She wound it greedily into and back out of the small tunnel, chasing the rising tension and pulsing heat that made her squirm and tighten, toes curling as her tongue squelched and writhed, her coordination beginning to fail. \n\n It was then that a small flashbang went off in her senses, an animalistic groaning roar bellowing from her cramped throat while her entire body tensed, her tongue rewarded with a different flavor entirely while salt and copper alike blended against her tastebuds, small deluge of silvery fluids bursting along, and then past the small blockage, where they then began a small trailing river towards her tail. \n\n For her part, the newly minted bear panted and grumbled as she fell limp against the dirt and leaf litter below, beginning to wonder once again about where she might find more honey. \n\n Maybe she could look for where the rest of the hive landed, after she got the drive up to truly move. \n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": " It was a cool, musty afternoon in the early autumn of a forest somewhere in North America that found itself interrupted with the periodic crunches of cloven hooves on mildly wetted, rotting leaves. The perpetrator was a fairly unassuming young buck, dressed in torn shorts and an over-sized orange hoodie. The only thing noteworthy about the cervid was his striking pink hair, dyed in a blatant display of the rejection of social norms… or something. He’d long ago convinced himself that the argument he’d made when doing it was fairly deflated when you considered that his favorite color was also pink.

 But none of that had anything to do with him being out in the relatively recent chill of early autumn, wistfully stumbling through the fallen leaves and waning underbrush. Instead, he was taking time to think, to breathe, to simply take a step away from it all. College was a rough contender, rougher than he’d considered possible, and the rage from quite how unfair the entire ordeal felt was starting to pile on. It wasn’t his fault, after all, that the courses were a disorganized mess, or that his professors couldn’t seem to communicate a thought clearly for the life of them. It wasn’t his fault, either, that work was proving to be just as frustrating in the wake of it. Part time wasn’t paying as much as he’d hoped, after all. Certainly not enough to overtake the stress of how he was treated by customer and coworker alike.

 And so he took solace in the woods, the quiet, the natural. Even if his heckles stayed raised at the barest thought of anything with teeth. Who knew what was in the woods nowadays! So much as everyone was so sure that the likes of the mountain lion and the wolf were long gone, there were still bears and coyotes to contend with! And that was if you even believed that the first two were truly gone! He’d heard far too much in the dark of the night to truly believe much of anything about the woods. But at least in the bright light of day, and the relative clarity of a late season, he could manage a relatively safe nature walk, with little to no true interruptions.

 For this purpose, he allowed his eyes to wander, from the massive pines to the other various trees he struggled to identify, the tree cover was surprisingly sparse here, though he supposed that might’ve had something to do with the nature trail. They did tend to trim the nature around them after all, to keep them safe for people that might not know the dangers of falling trees or hidden predators, poisonous plants, or anything else less than friendly.

 He’d even heard of things like rabbits attacking, in some cases! And don’t even get him started on the risk of rabies. He hadn’t even gotten his shots for it, after all. Something he was rapidly coming to regret as he trudged through mud and leaf litter. Crossing a small stream, he marveled at the mosses that coated quite literally everything in the vicinity, including the bridge over the small tributary, though his eyes were truly looking for small, brightly colored caps. If there was one thing that the buck was known for, it was a rapt fascination with mycology. Even if he wasn’t familiar enough to identify exactly what they were, he knew where some could be looked for or found – at least, so he thought, and that was an exciting prospect for someone who rarely traveled outside of the lawn.

 There were snakes and insects to contend with, sure, but mushrooms could get him past his myriad fears and discomforts in a flash as a consistent motivator. He didn’t truly want to eat them, even, merely watch the small colonies go about their lives for a few minutes, marveling at how simply they did so. The bobble head in his car, and the plushies upon his shelves in the dorm said all that needed to be said about how cute he thought they were.

 Alas, there were none to be found in this particular creek. Not that he could see without risking slipping or getting his hooves any more wet or messy than they already were, anyway. And so he moved on with a disgruntled sigh. There were always other places to look, after all. Fallen trees were one of the many things that his brain was starting to register the lack of, but the forestry service didn’t come out nearly often enough to have caught all of them, and while some part of his mind whispered to wander of trail, if only a short distance, he shook his head to free himself of such a horrid thought. Off trail was dangerous, even if it wasn’t far. It was where animals could be found more readily, where there wasn’t a guaranteed safe place to step. It was simply too big a risk.

 That was, until he had wandered for another five minutes, and come across a hulking log, peeking over the edge of what must have been a ravine, nearly out of sight. A massive tree that had fallen… at some point before he’d come along. Even his meager knowledge base was enough to tell him that it was one of the best places to find his distracting quarries. It was a massive source of food for them, after all. He paced, mumbling to himself for several minutes, eyeing the black stump hanging over the ground, before his right hoof left the trail. Curiosity had made the decision for him.

 The young buck squirmed and cringed as his hooves sunk into the dark mud beneath them, clearly the ground was not nearly as well compacted or worn as he had expected from the trail, and though it was cold and disgusting, he was well aware that it could simply washed away after he’d returned to the dorm. If only that made it feel any less disgusting.

 Much as he liked mushrooms and flowers, he did have to begrudgingly admit that he was the furthest thing from an outdoorsman, far too strongly afflicted with OCD to be able to handle the less savory aspects of nature itself, pretty as the wider whole may have been.

 At least it would be worth it, he thought to himself, just as much an assurance as self-encouragement – mushrooms loved downed logs such as this, after all.

 Even more fuel for why his ears and expression fell as the entire black mass came into view, and it didn’t even appear to have so much as moss or lichens clinging to it, let alone mushrooms. Disappointment and heartbreak rapidly started to boil into something else as he shifted, cringing at another squelch between his toes. This had been a waste of time and discomfort entirely, and all he had wanted was to what was objectively a common form of life. But apparently nature had other plans for him.

 His eyes closed as he sighed, allowing the weight of his antlers to carry his head back almost painfully to stare skywards. Was it really so much, after all, to want to see something interesting?

 It was then that he opened them once again, and jolted at the sight of a massive bee hive hanging off of a branch, seemingly entirely devoid of life in its’ dull yellow mass. The hive wasn’t of a shape he’d seen before, a uniform partial disc that hung from the lower edge of the branch it clung to, where the local bees he’d read about and seen always seemed to work in a terraced structure, irregular chunks that joined to create a malformed bulge wherever they decided to hive.

 Part of him wondered if there was any honey in it, a devious smile pulling at his muzzle as his tongue peeked from his lips, licking across them in rapt anticipation of how his reward may taste, if there was anything. It was pretty late in the season, so there was no guarantee, but it would at least be a fun attempt to make, he was sure of that much.

 It was due to these thoughts that he picked up a nearby rock on a whim, not bothering to move before hefting it, looking skywards once more, and reared, preparing to let fly.

 Unfortunately, some portion of his brain had failed to truly process the significance what may be referred to as gravity, and his lack of sporty prowess. All told, it was an impeccably lucky shot, the stone smashing through the dull, off-colored combs with a quiet crackle, before arcing off of the branch behind it with a loud thunk, ricocheting off into the woods beyond. His lack of prowess had gone unpunished, but that left his lack of consideration for gravity, and his positioning.

 That, in turn, did go punished. The hive crackled and crumpled, honey stringing from it in great globs as the destroyed combs began to leak, their caps and walls destroyed. He had done just enough damage for the hive’s own weight to work against it, and before he could realize his mistake, the multi-pound block of wax and honey came crashing down to the forest floor below – with him between the two. It smashed into his face with surprising force, sending him crumpling to the ground even as the splash of gooey orange and yellow stores coated the rest of his entire form in a thick layer of sweet smelling ooze.

 It dripped from him in massive strings, droplets hanging in air before they fell to the ground around him, or in some cases, dripped from his chin to his chest and stomach.

 All told, it was surprisingly warm against the near chill of the autumn morning,  especially when he stopped to consider the strange fact, thankful as he may be for it, that there hadn’t seemed to be any bees home even inside of the hive, it was filled almost uniformly with the stuff, and only then did he realize the off-season nature of it all.

 However, the young buck wasn’t familiar with insects, and he never claimed to like bees, let alone understand them or their mysterious ways, so he couldn’t hazard too strong a guess as to why they’d abandoned the hive, filled with so much of what seemed perfectly clean and usable, at least to his unpracticed nose. Maybe they’d run off to hibernate, or whatever it was that bees did when the season wasn’t in their favor.

 For now, however, the warmth was only rising against his skin, and the sickening sweetness of the ooze assaulted his senses, begging him to lick it. To taste it. He wasn’t one to tell his senses no.

 The honey stuck to his tongue as though it was a natural glue, thick and heavy with sugars and a strange spice that his tongue couldn’t quite place, tickling at the back of his mind as he groaned once again – this time not in pain, but in pleasure. It had only been a few seconds since he had made a mess of himself, and already his core temperature was rising rapidly, seemingly out of control as he began to feel feverish, sweat beading beneath his fur as something built, small bubblings and grumblings emanating from somewhere in his stomach.

 Whether or not he realized any of it was out of the ordinary was another matter entirely, his brain short circuiting in the saccharine smell, as his pupils dilated, and his breathing wavered. Before he even knew what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all, his tongue flicked out once again, dragging in a wide, purposeful arc across the tip of his muzzle. It cramped and twisted as it did so, twitching and arcing with sparks of electric jolts beneath the overstimulating sweetness.

 Something about it… spoke to him. Spoke to his senses. Intoxicating in all of its’ wondrous complicated sweetness.

 Unfortunately for him, it also spoke to his body, bones clicking and shifting as muscle bulged and displaced, his fur darkening everywhere but in a small arc across his chest, all while his cloven hooves split and retreated, forming claws and additional digits as they slowly became paws, broadening by the moment. If he has been more aware of his surroundings, he may have realized that other things were changing as well, his tongue lengthening, allowing him to reach farther and farther, one second he could clean his nose, then soon after, he was becoming increasingly capable of cleaning his entire muzzle – wrapping the protrusion in a long, pulsing pink tongue as it broadened beneath his own ministrations.

 His stomach continued to bubble, slowly bloating as it filled out into an innocently soft paunch, his nipples splitting on his chest into six different small nubs, before migrating lower. One set settled further down his chest from the originals, the other – far lower, trailing quietly across his body as they shifted, eventually coming to rest on his hipline. His clothes wasted little time in shattering, strained stitches exploding as the fabric fell from his frame, entirely ignored.

 Beneath those, his genitals rearranged, pulsing and squirming as they rewound the genetic clock while simultaneously shifting forms, shrinking and shying away from view in time with his fur lengthening, leaving merely the barest hints of a slit hidden beneath the dense fuzz.

 The strangest changes of all had barely even taken place however, his, or rather - her head aching quietly as her entire skull rearranged, broadening widely in fits and spurts of violent, disorienting growth. Her muzzle followed suit, broadening even more beneath her tongue even as it snaked nearly over her eyes in search of more honey, lathering himself in a honey-mixed saliva. At the tip of the shifting front of her face, her nose broadened, and retreated from her lip as it came to a bearlike taper. Her lips in turn loosened, drooping lazily as new muscles formed behind them.

 Behind all of that flesh, her teeth bulged, fell away, and then were rapidly replaced by new dentition, sharper, broader, built more for slicing than the crushing and rolling of what come before. It ran from the back of her gums forwards, slowly readjusting one pair at a time.

 By the end, she groaned quietly as a newly minted set of canines sprouted where previously no such thing had been in place, completing the deceptively innocent but surprisingly dangerous layout of the ursine variety.

 Smaller changed rolled in quietly beneath her skin as her neck broadened, her shoulders blending into the sail-like shape while her claws continued to pulse longer, lazy eyes glancing at them blindly as each nail reached a length nearly equal to the digit that it tipped. Soon they fell to other uses, however, as her breasts ached, lurched, and budded forwards, each set growing farther than the last as it trailed down her body. The lowermost pair pressed against her thighs innocently from where they perched, gravity taking possession of their soft mass, the two pairs high above them on her chest barely sagging against her chest well in their significantly diminished size and weight by comparison.

 Her ears had long since started to broaden, shortening to complete the transformation into the small, rounded bulbs of many bears. Where only a few minutes before had sat a young buck of only 5’8, anxious and unsure of anything in the area, now sat a disinterested, honey-intoxicated sun bear sow of 6’0.

 The heat in her core, however, remained as strong as ever. If anything, it only continued to build as she lapped at her arms and chest, tongue imbibing more and more of the flavorful honey that coated her body, small grunts and groans of rising excitement rattling from her chest. She simply couldn’t down it quickly enough.

 
 Her paws continued to idly mash at the breast-flesh that clung to her front in the meantime, digging lazily at the lowermost set with a hungry idleness that only raised in insistence with time, her tongue flicking idly across the higher sets, lingering across slicked nipples, a humming moan rumbling from her chest as saliva pooled against them and she felt every single taste bud from both perspectives, her rough tongue rattling over them in a pressing arc.

 Unfortunately, as massively long as it may have been, hanging almost to her navel as she sat and panted upon clearing the next nipple one more time, it was after all still only a finite length, and thus she could not make an endless loop of the gentle caressing.

 No matter. Her paws could still help, a claw dipping lower, pressing between her legs as her claws searched for a sensitive opening she’d never seen. She didn’t need to. The honey made it incredibly clear where it was, pulsing angrily with a greedy heat that left a steaming huff leaping from her muzzle at the barest brush.

 It made her hunger for more, a tensing in her loins demanding something more forceful, something more readily able to probe – something warm, and soft, muscular and lubricated.

 Something long.

 Her brain wasted little time in putting the pieces together, a needy moan leaving her muzzle once again as she spread her legs, ignoring the cold wetness of the mud that clung to her rump and the back of her thighs, instead more focused on the task at hand as she bent around the hip, tucking her hand-paws beneath her thighs, pulling them upwards as she fell backwards with a breathless -whumf-.

 Her own breath tickled at the fur over her small feminine bulb, steaming humidity clinging to the densely packed hairs as she nuzzled between her own teats, cheeks insulated by the soft flesh.

 It was then that her tongue slipped past her lips once again, probing carefully, excitedly as it searched across the sensitive area. It pressed idly at the small pucker of her tail-hole, coating it in honey-tinted saliva like it had all before, probing ever so quietly as it pressed at the center of the small bulb.

 But then the drooping of the length of her tongue beyond, where it snaked back towards her muzzle, brushed the sensitive folds that lay above her current focus, a small gasp leaping from her as she jolted past the electric shock of overwhelming need. She froze for but a moment, before the long, tentacle-like rope of her tongue curled backwards, barely hesitating before it delved deeply into her own form, shuddering breaths shifting past her lips as she let out ursine huffs and groans in time with every shifting pulse, her tongue flatting, folding, probing, snaking hungrily as it pressed inches past the surface, lapping at her own tunnels in all of its’ rough textured warmth.

 She wound it greedily into and back out of the small tunnel, chasing the rising tension and pulsing heat that made her squirm and tighten, toes curling as her tongue squelched and writhed, her coordination beginning to fail.

 It was then that a small flashbang went off in her senses, an animalistic groaning roar bellowing from her cramped throat while her entire body tensed, her tongue rewarded with a different flavor entirely while salt and copper alike blended against her tastebuds, small deluge of silvery fluids bursting along, and then past the small blockage, where they then began a small trailing river towards her tail.

 For her part, the newly minted bear panted and grumbled as she fell limp against the dirt and leaf litter below, beginning to wonder once again about where she might find more honey.

 Maybe she could look for where the rest of the hive landed, after she got the drive up to truly move.
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