Doctor Doreen Drew, world-famous archeologist, put down the hand brush. Whew, it was hot here, even under the canopy which theoretically shielded her from the sun yet did nothing about the inescapable humidity. She blew a few stray hairs out of her face and mopped her brow with one grimy hand. It came away wet with sweat.

The archeologist sighed. No matter how often her expeditions took her deep into the depths of the Amazonian basin, she never really got used to the heat. Why, even back during her first expedition when she was only a young archeology student— the dig which had first catapulted her onto the international scene— she had found the heat oppressive. Still, the rapidity of her rise after that first trip to South America had made the place’s name seem almost prophetic. The so-called “Temple of Destiny” had—

“DOREEN! Stop daydreaming over there! Those potsherds aren’t going to catalogue themselves!” shouted a voice which wrenched the archeology student abruptly out of her half-fantasy of greatness. Doreen jerked in surprise and nearly shattered one of the innumerable pottery fragments in her haste to look busy.

The effort was too little, too late as Travis made a beeline for Doreen and her incredibly exciting collection of shattered ceramics. His voice was as hard as the little brown fragments moving under her fingers. “Doreen.”

“O-oh! Oh hey, Travis.” Doreen grinned awkwardly at her team supervisor, the professor’s assistant. “How are you? Just, you know, sorting these super important chunks of baked clay. You know how it is.”

Travis pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. “Doreen. Come on, help me out here. You convinced me you were ready for this. I went way out on a limb to convince Doctor Sheldon that you were ready for field work. He never lets anyone come on digs with him until they’re practically a grad student already!”

“Yeah, I know. ‘Until that stupid Indiana-Jones-Laura-Croft-and-Nathan-Drake claptrap is beaten out of their stupid millennial heads,’” Doreen mumbled, quoting the professor from memory. It wasn’t as if it was hard considering the number of times the old fossil had railed about that in lectures. What exactly was wrong with having a little enthusiasm for the finer points of archeology? Eesh.

“Right. But even so, you had me convinced, Doreen. Actually convinced that you were ready,” complained Travis. “I stuck my neck out for you, but you don’t really seem that into it.”

Doreen scowled. “What? Of course I was into it! I understand that it can’t all be running down corridors in front of giant boulders.”

“Oh, is that why you were rearranging the same three pieces of pottery while humming the Indiana Jones theme when I came by to see how you were doing earlier today?” Travis’ unyielding gaze bored into Doreen until her gaze dropped. Shoot. She had been doing that, hadn’t she?

Travis sighed again, his expression softening. “Come on, Dee. Get your head in the game. Tell you what… we’ve uncovered a few murals close to the temple. Tomorrow morning I’m supposed to start cleaning them up so we can photograph them, but if you finish your work here I’ll put you in charge of that, instead.”

Oh boy. Mural cleaning. But Doreen knew enough to take an olive branch when it was offered. And who knew? Maybe bigger things awaited. “I would love that, Trav. Thank you.”

As a reward for Doreen’s diplomatic prowess, she allowed herself a few moments of ogling the departing Travis before getting back to work. Whoever had convinced him he looked good in those little khaki shorts— almost like the ones she herself was wearing, which did fascinating things to accentuate his firm little posterior— was a national hero. Yum.

Alright, Drew, back to work with you. Still letting her gaze linger, the girl reached to pick up the next potsherd, and— “Ow!”

Doreen glared at the offending pottery fragment and sucked at her mangled hand. The wound was quite small and already closing, but the brown of the already-cleaned pottery was now stained red. Great. Probably time for a trip to the aid station. “And all I wanted was fame and fortune. Hooray, potsherds. Hooray, temple.”

* * *

Doreen was floating, hanging in the air as easily as if she were swimming languidly in one of the lush, sheltered cenotes that dotted the landscape near the dig site. There was a dark presence before her, but that seemed no more strange than the floating. The girl simply smiled. Ah, she was dreaming. Of course.

”’HOORAY, POTSHERDS. HOORAY TEMPLE.’ AN UNUSUAL PRAYER,” rumbled a voice— if it could be called a voice. The deep, echoing words seemed to come from everywhere, but most especially from the dark presence before the hovering Doreen. ”BUT IT HAS BEEN SO LONG. WHAT DO YOU DESIRE, YOUNG ONE?”

Ah, so this was going to be one of those kinds of dreams. Doreen shrugged. “What does anyone want? Fortune. Adventure. Success in love. Archeology.”

”QUITE THE AUDACIOUS REQUEST FOR ONE WHO DOES NOT EVEN KNOW THE NAME OF HER PATRON,” the voice chuckled.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it had ‘been so long.’” Doreen crossed her arms and waited impassively. If she was lucky, this dream would end with her backflipping out of a helicopter firing twin pistols at secret nazi scum propping up a brutal South American regime. Heck yeah!

”…SO BE IT.” said the voice. The universe held its breath. Then out of the darkness came a great hand— and behind it, a strange, stretched face. With its wide nose and blunt muzzle, it looked almost like a horse— a great, dark horse with glowing eyes.

Whoah. This was taking a turn for the weird. But before Doreen could turn into a rocket and zoom away, the massive hand touched her, once each on both hips. Then without warning it wheeled her around and smacked her behind. ”THERE, DARING ONE. KNOW THAT THE MARK OF DESTINY IS UPON YOU. ALL THAT YOU ASK IS YOURS. NOW, GO!”

“Yipe!” Doreen snapped awake, Yelped, and promptly fell out of her cot.

It was some ungodly hour of the morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet. Why had Doreen woken up— and so abruptly, at that? It was almost as if someone had swatted her right on the— wait. “Hey!”

Wow, what a weird dream. What the heck had been up with that horse-thing offering random wishes? Doreen sighed. Definitely no more papaya before bed next time. But it had been soooo gooood…

Doreen looked around— a futile effort in the gray near-darkness. Nobody else would be up for a good hour and a half, at least. And there would be no breakfast for at least twenty minutes after that. But unfortunately, she was up. And now all she had to look forward to was the mural… hmm.

It occurred to Doreen that no one else would be up for a good hour and a half. That meant that she had quite a bit of time unsupervised to explore the ruins. Sure, it would be pretty hard to see, but as long as she was prepared…

Fifteen minutes later a fully-equipped Doreen Drew, archeologist student extraordinaire, was pushing her way carefully through the undergrowth in the dim half-light on her way to the large bulk that was the temple. The Temple of Destiny. Right, the— Doreen shook her head. That weird dream was still clinging to her brain. Ugh. That was all she needed when she was probably going to get herself— “Oof!”

The wall of the temple had somehow managed to sneak up on Doreen, leaving the girl rubbing her abused nose in annoyance as she glared at the unmoving blocks of stone. She flicked her flashlight on and played it over the structure. Vines had crawled across much of the surface, but someone had cleared some of the vegetation away. Just as Travis had promised, a strange stylized mural covered the stone.

In the early morning light with little more than Doreen’s flashlight and the choir of nocturnal insects and wildlife to keep her company, she felt almost like a real archeologist. She could see it now— the young Doctor Drew smiling in photographs next to her prized discovery, a mural depicting how the Temple of Destiny had been dedicated to a previously-unknown horse-themed god. Wait, horse-themed?

The chill down Doreen’s spine had very little to do with the slightly cool breeze blowing around the temple’s bulk. There was no way she had some how managed to dream up the same creature depicted here on the wall of an ancient ruin. Maybe she’d seen it on some larger shard of pottery without noticing? Surely that must be it. That, or this was simply a trick of the light. A furtive hand reached up to touch the mural and banish the apparition— and something went ’click’.

With the grinding of stone on ancient stone, a dark doorway appeared in the temple wall right in front of Doreen. The would-be archeological superstar nearly screamed and dropped her flashlight. This… this sort of thing didn’t just happen. Not to real people. There was no way some complex stone mechanism could have survived to function for a thousand years! It was… it was impossible! It was simply incredible. It was… it was going to torment Doreen for the rest of her life if she didn’t investigate further.

This was possibly the stupidest thing Doreen had done since that time back in— well, never mind that. But she felt alive. For the moment, anyway. Her heart thudded in her chest and her skin tingled with energy as she took step after furtive step into the cool, dark stone corridor of the temple. This was actually happening. To her. Now.

It was like something out of the movies. All that was missing was— Doreen winced as her foot suddenly trod on a stone in the floor that had a disturbing amount of give. Click

“Owwwwww!” The inevitable-and-should-have-been-impossible dart had flown true, burying itself deeply into Doreen’s unprepared buttock. She jerked it out, staring at the tip as though her gaze could either confirm it was poisoned or magic it out of its extremely unlikely existence. Just as quickly she tossed it aside. That was enough excitement for one day, Doreen! It was time to get out of here.

Doreen strode purposefully back the way she had come, trying to ignore the bizarre tingling in her rear end. The dart couldn’t have been poisoned. It wouldn’t make any sense for the poison to last that long, anyway. Just like it wouldn’t make any sense for a hidden trap or a hidden door mechanism to work after centuries of neglect… No! No thinking like that. Besides, the tingling was on both sides, not just the side that had gotten hit. That wouldn’t make sense. Not so quickly.

And yet despite the girl’s protestations, she felt… strange. Her clothing clutched at her, restricting her gasping breath and forcing her to unbutton her collar. Her arms and legs felt stretched and clumsy, like they belonged to someone else. No. No poison. That was not possible. Highly improbable, at least.

Doreen groaned and leaned against the wall. It was fine. She just needed a short break to catch her breath. She shouldn’t have tried going adventuring without eating first. She had low blood sugar.

An unseen plate under Doreen’s hand slid into the wall with an ominous mechanical sound. Click

No. That… that wasn’t fair.

Dart after dart thudded into Doreen’s almost-unprotected back. She could barely feel each individual pinprick over the tingling of her flesh and the thudding of her heart in her ears. The too-heavy flashlight dropped from her hand and bounced, light playing crazily over the stone walls and Doreen herself.

“Oh geeeeze…” Doreen hissed through gritted teeth. Okay. The darts were poisoned with who-knew-what. The girl felt swollen, her body pressing insistently against every harshly-abrasive piece of apparel she had. Each breath gave less relief than the last as her breasts crushed themselves and her lungs against the cottony prison. She struggled to loosen her clothing before it strangled her. Even the helpful backpack which had taken so many darts in her stead thudded to the floor before it could rebel against her too.

The girl’s bones creaked and shifted, and something yellowish rose before her eyes. It was… it was her nose? And why did her back feel like it was about to burst open? What was going on?! Doreen's eyes squeezed shut again. Maybe if she couldn't see it, it wouldn't be happening.

“Aaauuuggghh!” Doreen gritted her teeth, her lengthening ears pinning back in agony as she flexed muscles she didn’t know she had— perhaps because five minutes ago, she hadn’t.

The transforming student’s shirt exploded in a shower of rags and loose threads and practically supersonic buttons as two great wings flared, their pinions free for the first time to cut the air. They flapped awkwardly, uncoordinated, and the movement set other equally-enhanced portions of her body rolling and jiggling in sympathy— and sent her trusty pith helmet rolling to the floor as her flailing tossed away yet another remaining piece of her dignity.

“Aaauugghh! Arrrgh! Aaaahhh!” Doreen groaned, frothing at the mouth. “Aaah! Auhh… um… Aah?”

Wait… the pain and discomfort. The horrible pressure and the tingling. It… was gone?

yes that had remained squeezed nearly shut since the first moments of Doreen’s transformation opened. She straightened, the strange new appendages on her back shifting of their own accord to help keep her upright. Considering the massive melons on her chest, it was a good thing she had a counterbalance.

“Wha…” Doreen swallowed. Quite aside from the complexities of working her bizarre new muzzle, her throat was dry and scratchy from all the totally justified screaming. She tried again. “What the hay?”

The transformed girl was massive in every sense of the word— and if her eyes were to be believed, covered with a fine layer of brown-tan hair. Like… like a horse. A chill went down Doreen’s significantly-lengthened spine, all the way to the tip of her tail.

Or… perhaps that was because the quiet “woggita-woggita-woggita” of her pith helmet had just stopped. Stopped with a noise that sounded suspiciously like ‘click’.

Followed by a deep, earthy rumbling noise.

“Oh, COME ON!”

A small part of Doreen was cursing her earlier self. This kind of thing was precisely what Doreen-of-a-day-ago would have wanted. Being chased down a corridor out of a temple by a colossal boulder was pretty much the definition of ‘adventure’ to Past-Doreen.

The majority of Present-Doreen was too busy screaming and running down the hall, trying to ignore the silent but no less insistent screaming of her much-abused shorts as they tried to fight every movement of her significantly enhanced undercarriage. It was almost a relief when a few passing trap-arrows— with stone points completely inappropriate for the era during which the temple had been built, she noted with strange detachment— sliced neat slits in the tortured fabric and put the straining clothing out of its misery.

Now freed from all restrictions save her sturdy boots, the fleeing girl ran on towards the tantalizingly close rectangle of light that signified escape and safety.

Doreen dove through the doorway as the boulder impacted the outer wall of the temple with a deafening crash. She had just enough time to realize that the space in front of her was occupied before she crashed into the unfortunate bystander and they went down in a tangle of far too many limbs.

For a moment, everything was still. Doreen let the thudding of her heart slow down for the first time in what felt like ages and relished the feeling of open air in the feathers of her wings… and the feeling of a warm body beneath her. She looked down.

Travis moaned, rubbing his aching head. Whatever had crashed into him from the mysteriously-appearing doorway was at least soft, but… also very heavy. He reached up to push the whatever-it-was off of himself… and paused when he heard the feminine gasp above him. And felt the feminine softness in his grasp. He resisted the near-suicidal urge to give the strangely fuzzy breast an experimental squeeze and opened his eyes… to be confronted by an alien face wearing an expression that needed very little translation.

Brown eyes stared up into narrowing pink. Travis grinned nervously. “Er…”

“Fascinating!” cried a voice. “Mr. Pembrooke, do you understand what this means? It— she— closely resembles the temple’s carvings! I’ve never seen anything like this! And neither has anyone else… until now, at least. Hmm, what do you think those markings on her hips are? Tribal symbols, perhaps? Haven’t seen them on the temple…”

The horse-creature shrieked in surprise as a flash went off. Travis felt the weight on him suddenly lessen as the creature leaped away and wrapped itself protectively in its wings. For the moment the grad student’s inadvertent groping seemed to be forgotten in the face of the greater threat posed by Doctor Sheldon. The old man was grinning from ear to ear as he readied his camera once again. “Quick, Pembrooke! Talk to her; try to calm her down! Don’t let her fly away; this is the find of the century!”

“What?! Why me?” Doctor Sheldon hadn’t seen the look she’d given Travis.

The professor chuckled. “Well she dove into your arms, didn’t she? Come on, man! Don’t tell me it hasn’t been a long time out here at the dig site, hey?”

“Not that long! I can’t believe you two! I mean, just because—”

It took both men a moment to realize that the angry tirade was coming from the creature. Also, that the creature giving vent to her spleen sounded like a certain rather-unreliable sophomore. They exchanged glances and looked back at the creature— at the girl. She was shrinking in on herself, wings and hide-covered curves dwindling into the decidedly more petite form of Doreen Drew as she waved her arms and gesticulated wildly about the injustice of it all and how— and how— suddenly the young student realized that it was very difficult to cover yourself with wings that no longer exist. She shrieked and made up the difference with her hands, crouching protectively around herself.

Travis reddened and looked away. Fascinated, Doctor Sheldon did not. “Say, Miss Drew… have you always had those tattoos?”

“DAMNIT, Professor, I don’t think— wait, what tattoos?” Doreen looked at her hip. Then at her other hip. “…No, I— THE DREAM!”

“Fascinating…” Doctor Sheldon turned to his assistant. “Pembrooke, I want you to work closely with Miss Drew. We have another week here; let’s get to the— heh heh—bottom of this to the best of our abilities. Have Adams take over for you for the moment.”

Travis stared at the professor, then at Doreen— and quickly back to the professor again. “But… But the… archeology… the… but what about the mural? The potsherds?”

“Mural, schmural!” scoffed the older man. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Adventure?” Doreen’s laugh came out as a near-snarl. “Let me tell you what you can do with… your…”

The transforming girl trailed off as wings once again sprouted from her back, spreading newly-recreated feathers to the dappled early-morning light streaming down through the canopy. A pegasus once more, Doreen refolded her wings around herself and grumbled. “Fine. But the temple had better come through with those other parts, too. ESPECIALLY the fortune. Come on, Trav.”

“Uh-huh…” Travis stared for a moment, following the hypnotic swaying of Doreen’s tail as she picked her way back towards the camp. Shaking his head, he blinked a few times and hurried to catch up. Suddenly, potsherds seemed a lot less interesting than they had an hour ago...

You win for longest Comment on E-Hentai. ;)

That being said, would this not have been easier to write/post on FiMfiction.net..? ;p

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and this where My liite ponies came from

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