Anyone with the least bit of appreciation for their child-hood would be out here. That was the explanation Ben kept running through his mind as the lanky panther rattled the chain-link fence meant to keep curious trespassers out. And he’d been goaded into it by Matt, whose devotion to chronicling every little detail of shows that had been off the air for 15 years was un-questioned.
“Tell me you remembered to bring the flash-light and your camera,” asked the otter as he tried his footing on the chain barrier. He was taking this seriously, dressed in dark colors and long sleeves despite the humid summer night. He was shorter than Ben, but somehow always seemed to make the decisions that would lead to something like this.
The doldrums of a summer break had been something the panther was looking forward to enjoying after a rough semester. Lazing about, sleeping late and marathon sessions of games bought on sale were the perks of having squeaked through finals. Up until last week, these were the only items on the agenda. Then, he’d had his best online killing spree interrupted by a cry of dismay from the other room in the apartment.
Sighing, Ben got to his feet to investigate. He found Matt practically foaming at the mouth as he typed angrily, responding to whatever was the source of his disenchantment.
“What’s up?”
“Look at this! I can’t believe they’re shutting it down…”
The panther read over his friend’s shoulder, humoring him despite the blinding combination of magenta and green. Simply put, the article’s header said that Kinomatic Studios was kaput.
“Aw, man. I’m sorry to hear that.”
The otter looked indignant. “You’re sorry? It’s a travesty! Like every show we liked was made there and now they’re just rolling it up into some big corporate multi-media empire and closing down.”
Matt got like this sometimes, maybe a little overly attached to nostalgic sentiments. Ben reached over and scrolled further down the article…
“It says they’ve actually been closed for a few years now. No studio tours, no themed ride around the stages. It’s been coming for a while, Matt.”
“Yeah, I know. But it still sucks,” moped the otter. He slouched in his seat the way he always did on getting bad news from the Internet. Even the urge to post an angry comment condemning the corporate robber-barons pillaging the cultural markers of their youth disappeared.
“It’s not that far from here. Why didn’t you ever go check it out when you were a kid?” asked the panther.
An annoyed silence answered him as Matt grabbed a beer from the fridge, then another 2 for good measure before sitting back down at the computer and reading all he could about the decline and fall of Kinomatic.
Things should have ended there, except the idea of never seeing the studios in all their glory before everything was packed-up for some bar-coded warehouse gnawed at the otter through his third beer, and his fourth and fifth. By that time, the late after-noon heat and crappy AC in student-budget apartments had convinced his panther buddy to start on the other 6-pack. And in those increasingly blurry hours, they reached the decision that they had to see Kinomatic Studios and run around inside there before it was all gone.
The plan and gear were simple. Bus pass, flash-light, and a camera to record their adventure inside the long-abandoned edifices. Ben tossed some water into the bag just in case, the only thing saving them now that the buzz was starting to wear off 2 hours into a 4-transfer trip to reach that place.
The otter gulped at the water as he checked his phone. The route was almost up to the spot where tourists would hop-off during the glory days to see the magenta font with the splattered edges spell-out “KINO-MATIC STUDIOS!” He glanced side-ways at the panther, sweltering against the plastic seat as he finished their other bottle and wondered when he’d been tipsy enough for this to sound like a good idea.
Events had acquired a momentum of their own by now, meaning that Matt was too invested in the idea of seeing the place to be dissuaded and Ben was committed to following through on a drunken agreement. Both sober enough now to know better, but not admit it.
“End of this line. Next bus at 12 o’clock,” said the walrus in the driver’s seat as they climbed down the stairs. The doors closed and left them only a little bit of private property away from their destination.
The otter found a good toe-hold and shimmied up, using the pole the chain-link wrapped around to finish climbing over. Once he caught the bag Ben hurled over and helped the panther down, they were standing in the shadow of the famous studio sign.
“We got this far,” grinned Matt. “Let’s see if they left anything cool.”
Given the low profile of Kinomatic since its heyday, it wasn’t a surprise to find one of the side entrances only required a little nudge to allow them access. And once inside, it hardly seemed worth the effort.
The studios had seen much better days. Cracks were visible in the plaster painted over in the trade-mark lime and magenta colors. The lighting fixtures didn’t respond to an attempt at turning them on, and the mosaic of characters from favorite shows was covered in dead leaves and other detritus. Matt swept some of it away with his foot, surprised at how dirty and depressing it all looked.
“This place is a hole. No wonder they want to knock it down,” said Ben as they wandered around. They passed their flash-lights over the scene, the panther noticing the dusty sign pointing them towards different sets.
Matt’s eyes lit up as he read the third sign from the bottom, a faux stone arrow pointing visitors towards the Guardians of The Lost Labyrinth stage. The otter was years past the days when he would watch the show and cheer a team on, priding himself on beating them to the solutions involving mythological cues. If he’d ever had the chance, he was sure he would have made it all the way through the maze.
“Oh, dude! I want to see where they made that dumb puppet show. Remember the hot dog with the googly eyes?” laughed the panther as he turned his light towards that direction and wandered off. “Meet you back here in 30!”
The otter made a bee-line towards the set he’d wanted to set foot on since he’d heard the deep voice of the announcer booming at the audience:
“BY YOUR WITS ALONE, YOU WON’T DEFEAT ME! FAST AND FLEET ALL TRY TO CHEAT ME, BUT YOU’D BETTER PLAY, FOR NONE ESCAPES MY MAZE!”
Giddy with excitement, he pushed on the double doors and peered inside. It looked like it had only been used for filming a day ago. The frightening stone visage of the Great Guardian, with his curving horns and flaming eyes, made Matt gulp. He could practically hear the rumbling warning of the idol that watched over the entry to the course.
According to the rules, only the most worthy team of competitors survived the elimination questions and the physical challenges. The pair were then sent into the Lost Labyrinth to solve questions or accept physical tests when confronted by the Guardians. And if you lost, you were dragged off in front of your team-mate, with no chance of making it to the end to claim the prize.
It was a tough game. Matt smiled as he remembered how players in the game reacted to being surprised by the Guardians, massive figures that seemed to appear out of the shadows when you were least expecting it. Panic had once made a mouse stumble over her answer and claim that Rosetta Stone was the biggest diamond in the world.
He fired his camera up, thanking his luck that the lighting mostly worked in here. The only problem was the labyrinth was still as dim and spooky as it had seemed on television. The otter snapped a few photos before glancing at his phone, un-concerned by the lack of signal as he noted 20 minutes or so before needing to find Ben again. Matt knew it wouldn’t take that long to traverse the maze…
There were light spots against the paint where props had sat for years before being packed away carefully for storage. The first room was typically where players heard the description of the prize they would collect if they out-witted the Guardians. Matt felt a twinge of disappointment there would be no BMX bike waiting for him at the completion of his run-through.
Accepting the terms of the game like everyone on television had, he reached for the statue of the Great Guardian and pulled down on the right horn. With some screeching from the protesting, rusty mechanism, the door slid up to allow him into the next room.
Sturdy white columns dominated inside, each with a break-away nook that held a clue to what questions the Guardians would offer when he inevitably ran into one. On closer inspection, the otter saw that they seemed like papier-mâché coverings applied over holes cut into the supports. Only crumbling pulp paper fibers remained as he searched each one, surprised to find a column’s hiding place still intact.
The otter didn’t think twice, putting his fist through with gusto and finding the clue cache. It was a gold hoop that looked dazzling even amidst the dusty abandoned set. Matt reached for it, finding it wasn’t just plastic with a Krylon plating job. The clue felt like it had the weight of real gold, and he pocketed it to show Ben when he was done.
Reaching the next room was an easy choice. 4 doors with 4 different symbols led away to different areas. But only one of them had a ring worked into the design, a Vitruvian Guardian circumscribed by a circle. The figure possessed the ideal, perfect proportions.
Matt pushed hard on the door, listening to it slide back and in before revealing the opening to the new area. This one filled with statues of the Guardian, mounted on pedestals. 20 or 30, all seeming identical with the tone and giant stature of the minotaurs who zealously protected the Lost Labyrinth’s grand prize. The otter looked over them carefully as he walked slowly, remembering how many times an inattentive player would be seized just before reaching the next exit…
Each of the bull-headed statues seemed different now that he looked at them more closely. A chipped horn on one, an open ringed piercing on the next. Some had horns that curved up-wards and others had them straight, ready to trample an intruder.
Matt kept moving, wondering when he’d find the next clue. The otter’s eyes scanned the room expectantly, forgetting how un-likely it had been to find that ring in the first place.
Taking it out of his pocket to admire, he turned his back on the rows of statues. It was a plain circle of gold that was way too big to wear on your finger and a little too small to accommodate being someone’s bangle. Matt scratched his ears, caught by surprise when he was grabbed by the loose fabric of his black shirt.
Hoisted off his feet, he kicked helplessly in the air as he found himself face to face with one of the Guardians. The minotaur dwarfed him, with a huge, toned body covered in smooth, black fur. Wild grey hair covered his head where his horns jutted-out at an angle. His only coverings were a red cloth wrap around his lower half and a bracelet made of fine silver links that looked tight against his thick wrist.
The otter was speechless as those steely eyes studied him, snorting at the pitiful excuse for trespasser that had made his way here. Matt shook nervously, wondering how one of the made-up protectors of the Lost Labyrinth was here, dangling him effortlessly.
The desperate flash of insight came to him in a second. The ring!
“Here, take it! I wasn’t going to take it out of the studios, honest! I just wanted to show it to my friend and then we’d get out of here. We’re really big fans of the Lost Labyrinth, I swear!”
Fumbling through his pockets, the otter found it. Matt offered it to the Guardian, who reacted with immediate interest. He reached to take it from the otter’s hand, gently seizing it with finger and thumb as he smiled widely. Matt found himself lowered back to solid ground, shaky, but relieved to be standing on his own 2 feet.
“I accept your decision, player. You forfeit the ring,” thundered the minotaur as he made use of the object for a moment. The otter saw him thread something through the ring before it re-appeared. The gold hoop now dangled on a silver chain improvised from the bracelet the Guardian wore.
Matt watched as the giant bull rubbed the ring against his black fur, bringing out the real luster of the gold. It was a deep, fiery golden color that made him regret having given-up the prize so easily…just for a moment.
He shook his head at the thought. The ring didn’t belong to him. It was part of the props in an adventure game that had been over for years. The otter couldn’t take his eyes off the burnished circle of gold, following it when the minotaur Guardian made it sway back and forth with the lightest motion of his wrist…
The ring was a simple distraction that appealed to a basic fascination with glinting golden objects that worked well to distract Matt from the idea he should back away, or at least move or close his eyes. Instead, he simply stared when the deep voice of the bull echoed in the cavernous room.
“You can have this back, player. If you’re willing to listen carefully and play a different role…it can be all yours. The prize you desire is just within reach, so close at hand…”
The golden ring swung between them in a gentle arc right in front of the otter’s eyes. It was so nice just to see it up-close and imagine it would be in his grasp soon. Matt leaned forward, forgetting there was anything beyond the sparkling object of his desire.
“If anyone else is here to play the game with you, you must tell me. It’s only fair to make sure you both get to experience the Labyrinth fully,” intoned the Guardian. His words made so much sense. It would be a shame if Ben never got a chance to go for that ring…explore the Lost Labyrinth…meet the minotaur…
The otter’s eyes were half-open now as his shoulders relaxed with every second that ticked by in a swing of the golden prize. More than anything, he wanted that ring to be given back to him. Any price seemed worth paying as he nodded slowly, in total agreement to the revised terms of the game.
A pleased smile flashed on the bull Guardian’s face as he slowed the path of the ring, letting it dangle from the chain for a moment before letting it slip from the silver length to land in his massive hand. The coveted circle was warm to the touch as he lifted it towards the mesmerized otter.
“You choose to stay and keep the prize?”
Matt’s mind failed him at that point, overcome with something like lust for the golden object he could have forever now. “Yes…let me stay…”
It came as a surprise to have the ring touched to his nose. The metal was warm, almost un-bearably. He almost recoiled from it, stopped from doing so by the discovery it was hanging from his small muzzle now.
The minotaur stepped back, taking in the sight of the much smaller otter wearing a great golden piercing. It seemed a bit large on him as Matt’s hazy thoughts collected around the idea of the new ornament. He touched his fingers to it in dis-belief, wondering how it had ended-up on his face. The otter’s small claws tapping at it curiously as he felt none of the tenderness a normal piercing would have brought on.
His claws felt strange, too. And when he inspected his hands, he found their color changing. The white tips that were normally at the end of his nimble, dexterous fingers were darkening. The pointed claws receding into something more like a smooth, thick nail. He watched in dazed fascination as his hand grew a rich, chocolate-brown shade of coarser fur, none the wiser about the sudden surge forward of his growing muzzle.
Matt’s body felt strange, like there was a certain tightness he couldn’t escape. There was a strange tensed-up sensation to every muscle that spread through him as the dark brown fur grew as a shaggy replacement to his old pelt. His arms changing now, accompanied by a thickening chest and lengthening legs. The new height was disorienting at first, not helped by the way his new and muscular bulk made him feel as he tried to keep his balance.
The otter continued changing under the watchful eye of the black-furred bull. His most comfortable sneakers burst under the pressure of new hooves, much better at supporting the weight of that slender, but defined body. Matt tapped them against the floor, dumb-founded by his powerful new legs and the heaviness he felt in his shoulders and torso. He flexed his arm, finding the biceps growing to give him new strength there too as he felt his rudder tail transforming distinctly. Its mass left for other parts of his body, leaving a much thinner appendage waving behind him, crowned with a single tuft of fur.
The transformation that swept through the former otter left a distinctly changed Matt in its wake. His black sneaking clothes were stretched and torn wide where his neck was now too thick and muscular to be accommodated. The new minotaur’s powerful arms burst the seams just like his toned and muscled lower limbs proved too much for his jeans. Even so, there was a kind of lithe, slender quality to the toned body of this bull. Instead of the solid slab of muscle the Guardian personified, Matt’s figure was defined without being just built for brute strength. It was soft power wrapped-up in silky, chocolate fur.
His mind had adjusted to the idea quickly, matching the transition from a sedentary otter’s body to the finesse and tone of his new form. He breathed hard, snorting a few times as he felt the thicker length of his member trapped in briefs that were far too tight for a re-born bull.
He didn’t have to endure the discomfort long, mooing in surprise when the first minotaur tore away the under-wear and let the long shaft hang free before cupping it.
“You turned out nice. A little on the small side for my tastes, but I bet your friend will enjoy it,” teased the black bull as his fingers closed around Matt’s arousal. The slender minotaur could only low his way to a shameless moan that filled the room.
“Now you’re ready to help the other player. You’ve agreed to switch sides in order to keep your prize. There’s only one left in the Labyrinth who doesn’t belong…”
Matt felt a playful tug on the ring that now pierced his nose, feeling a new submissiveness towards the bigger, stronger bull. As a minotaur, he was bound by the golden ornament to obey the rules of the game. The rules that insisted he now try to keep his friend from reaching the end…
Ben had gotten bored of the cast of low-budget puppet props after about 10 minutes, finding his way over to the empty goo geyser fountain and then wandering the track where contestants pedaled their way through obstacles and won fame and an all-expenses paid trip to the lower 48 for their families. Eventually, the panther noticed they’d missed the bus and their only chance of getting home without hoofing it. He growled to himself as he walked-off in search of the otter, wishing he’d never set foot on Kinomatic’s property.
Matt’s trail was easy to pick-up as the panther remembered all the tipsy talk the otter indulged in, telling him just how he’d have run through the Labyrinth without breaking a sweat. It was a show teens could beat, so just how much of a challenge would it be with no one around and years more experience on his side?
The panther thought that a second time as he went through the door with a triangle etching, knowing that if he’d picked the wrong one, there weren’t any Guardians to prevent him from back-tracking. Ben’s certainty was broken by the strange cry for help that came from deep inside the pitch-black room. He ran quickly in the direction of what sounded like his friend in distress.
There was someone there, sitting by a stone slab erected in the middle of the chamber. Only a flickering torch, most likely a light-bulb and orange cellophane, lit the room. The panther stepped closer, freezing when he caught sight of the bull with his head bowed down. He was naked, with his member there between his knees as he looked-up at Ben. His eyes were watery blue, an immediately familiar color.
“Matt…what the hell happened?”
“Hello, Ben,” the slight minotaur replied with a smile. His short horns shone strangely in the light of that cheaply-made fire. If not for the eyes, the panther would never have recognized him. He stepped closer to see a collar around his friend’s neck, with a fine silver cow-bell attached to it.
This was too much for Ben to process. The otter he’d known since college was someone’s pet beef now, and obviously pleased with the outcome of his Labyrinth run by the way he reached down to play with himself. Not to mention the strange accessories, the bell and something else…some sort of decoration on the tidy horns that capped off his bovine transformation.
The gilded horns were the Guardian’s idea, along with the sweet scent mingling with the bull’s new musk. Distracting a player from his objective was by no means discouraged, and the way he was looking at his friend’s cock, he had more on his mind than finishing the game.
Matt rolled his neck, making the gold capping-off his horns shine in the light. He moved his head slowly from side to side, catching the panther’s eye with each turn. The panther found it harder to remember why he came her when he saw the slutty, strong minotaur practically offering himself. Those gilt horns were beautiful, giving extra flair to the proud ornaments the new bull wore. His fingers busy around his member as he called Ben over to look…
“Relax…you can keep your eyes on me all you want. Especially the horns. Everything about this is making you so horny you can’t think straight, so I know your problem, Ben…”
Matt raised his eyes, stifling too big a smile when he saw the dazed expression on the big cat’s face. The tall, long-tailed cat was enjoying being told what he could see. His eyes followed the tilting horns, waiting for his next glimpse of their golden allure.
“Come a little closer, kitty. You know you can’t resist. You’re going to walk right over here and have fun while you keep looking at my horns. Look down and see how much fun I’m having making you so sleepy.”
Matt mooed contentedly as precum trickled down his fingers, making the panther groan as he watched and felt so hard he would burst. His mind was caught-up in the glittering show put on by his friend’s golden horns. They bobbed with his slow strokes, making him throb a little harder. Ben’s pants tented almost painfully, his cock pressed against the boxers he favored.
The panther’s expression was pure lust as he felt like every touch of those fingers was sliding against his member instead. His body more relaxed than the bull’s, shoulders slumped and only his eyes kept attentively on the minotaur’s endowments.
Without realizing it, he’d gotten much closer to Matt. The rounded points to the horn ornaments easily kept in his line of sight. Such pretty ornaments to accentuate his desire for the bull…
A slick trail from the head of Matt’s member drooled down to the floor, broken when he closed the distance between his body and the panther’s need on his knees. With his mind still clouded by the hypnotic dance of the horns, he only growled happily when the dark brown fur of the minotaur’s fingers opened his zipper and found him aching for release.
The bull’s talents weren’t limited only to teasing, as he took a long, slow lick of the panther’s shaft that made him melt. A shiver of pleasure ran through him as Matt’s mouth closed around his cock and played with him like nothing he had ever enjoyed before.
The minotaur was made for this. For leaving his worried friend in a haze of burning lust and dizzy entrancement courtesy of the golden embellishments, and now wrapping that tongue around a thick shaft as they heard approaching hoof-steps.
Matt knew the sound of those heavy steps and the musk of the black bull, even through the strong scent in being close to the panther’s crotch. The Guardian wrapped an arm around the panther’s neck, his shaggy head close to the emptying mind of the feline.
“Your friend will help guard the labyrinth with me, wherever the next one will be found. You’re not going to leave him all alone, are you?”
The bull’s baritone whisper made Matt’s thoughts so much easier to deal with when he heard the possibility in them. He didn’t want to leave anyone. He was a good friend, even when the otter was long-gone…but someone else was in his place.
The panther groaned aloud as that new minotaur made the case for him to stay, too. Lapping under his shaft, making it impossible to deny what he wanted more than anything now. The first bull lifted the ring, feeling Ben press his muzzle against it. The same magic that allowed the un-broken ring one attachment allowed a second, with the heavy gold passing between the nostrils of the panther as he felt his tail wrapped around the black-furred bull’s arm. The thick member of the dominant minotaur pressing against his rear, coaxing him to spread his legs and purr as he felt his body thickening.
Ben’s sleek black fur was swept aside by a dark red pelt that spread over his body quickly after he felt the first thrust of the Guardian beneath his tail. The changing panther gripped the horns of the bull on his knees, grinding more against that eager mouth when the minotaur started to fuck in a slow rhythm. He started to enjoy it, feeling the new strength of his arms as he flexed proudly, admiring those thick wrists and keeping a hand on Matt’s head.
New muscle added to his chest and pecs, making him grow past the slender strength of the chocolate-furred bull and approach the Guardian in sheer mass. His stronger thighs much better at standing-up to the hip thrusts of the minotaur as he felt a shudder through that powerful body. His own climax kept on the edge by the skillful tongue the former otter possessed.
The Guardian bull huffed and snorted, gripping around the thick, heavy frame of the ex-panther standing in the shreds of his T-shirt and pants as he groaned. Hot seed flooding between those cheeks as Ben spilled his load over the gulping smaller minotaur’s tongue.
The strain of transforming left him barely standing, steadied by the black bull’s formidable strength while the golden-horned minotaur lapped away at the potent mess. He shivered as he heard the Guardian’s voice in the after-glow…
“It’ll be much easier to find a new Labyrinth with new companions ready to share it…” he laughed.