Author's Note:
Just for a Visit
by Boston Bob’s Circus
An Authorized revision:
Kevin Rooste series 2006/2010

This is a spin off from the story, Sisters of Circe” written and authorized by Lampwick.

http://tsa.transform.to/animal/sistersofcirce.html

"A Sequel"

My brother David rented an apartment in Capital City so he could remain nearer to the college and his studies. Dave was a serious person and without the family problems to distract him, he excelled with his studies. I had visited him often, and it was with my most recent visit and the strange happenings found there that I am writing this story.

I was a cool fall day in late October when all phone calls and letters from Dave came to a complete stop. David would either call or write about his week of study and or the people he met. Our Mother and I would read his letters and then store them away in a drawer as if held in a time capsule.

Mother tried to call David but received only his answering machine. I e-mailed him had many times, but again no response! Ron Tanner came over regularly to be of help to mom with things she felt were man’s work, best not done by a teenager. So it happened that one morning Ron came and heard about the lack of communication these past two weeks or more from Dave. Ron suggesting he and I should drive to Capital City and visit David.

My Mother agreeing, we left that very morning with me reading the maps, and Ron driving us in his new SUV.

Driving the highway, we both told humorous stories of David. My dear brother was so gullible, blank serious, and many a time ended up as one perfect fool.

It took us the better part of three hours to cover the hundred and forty miles from home to the downtown apartment. Ron dropped me off at the building front door, as he drove then around back to the parking lot.

I thought to surprise David, maybe tell him I hitch-hiked from home. The plan had merit at first, but once inside the building and with closing the front door I changed my mind.

The creaking of the door hinges worked as a doorbell. Once inside the foyer I saw several doors become ajar, eyes peering out into the hallway.

Speaking a friendly hello, the doors slammed shut, as those people hid away like there was something very odd here. Puzzled of this, I went right up in the elevator to floor six. There stepping out of the elevator and walked down the long hall to where Dave had his apartment, it number 6-A.

I knocked and knocked at the door but there was no answer. I stood there wondering what to do, when Ron arrived, telling me his Yukon he parked at the rear of the apartment building, next to that bright blue Plymouth belonging to Dave.

As I began to tell him my knocking had no answer, this making me worried, I wondered what to do next?

Ron and his great Dutch and dumb luck; or maybe it was fate, but Ron looked at the closed door, and began to feel the sash for a key. Then he just reached out and with one hand on the knob, it turned, the door was unlocked. I stood there feeling dumb and dumber!

As we entered the apartment, we discovered there a mess. Now David was not messy person, he had a motto of, “A place for everything, and everything in its place!” One quick look around suggested to us the apartment had been vandalized or even burglarized.

I remember grumbling loudly, seeing the way things lay strewn. Standing there I looked upset at the scene, it was Ron that began to upright things as he too looked around.

Ron walked away from me and into the kitchen. He returned quickly, telling of the mess he saw in there too. I headed for the bedroom only to find the bed made neatly, while the dresser drawers lay pulled out and everything ransacked.

I pointed to the mess, but stood shaking my pointing finger to the bed. Untouched it was made so neat and tight, Army style, is what David called it. I looked at Ron and then back at me, we said in unison, suggesting it might have been a robbery!

I was about to reach over and grab the phone, when from the corner of the room came what sounded like a muffled scream. Ron stood there and he too looked just as surprised and wondering. Hearing the scream again, we began to look around the room.

Yet another scream we heard, but this time it sounded ragged and coarse. I suggested it sounded as if made by some animal, as if in pain or maybe injured.

Ron then found the source in short order, it was coming from the cold air vent. We knelt down and listened. We heard the soft voices of what seemed to be three women. Their words were as if chiding the person in pain, making fun of the pains as well.

I turned to look at Ron when just after another long gravelly groan came up the pipe, we both heard one sweet female voice proclaim, my he looks as good as David did three weeks to the day!

The woman’s statement suggested of foul play, I felt suddenly my hope for David to slip away. Jumping to our feet, Ron and I headed together for the door and then to the stairway. We must have sounded like a heard of cattle coming down the stairs.

As I opened the door to the fifth floor hallway, I peeked out into the hallway, stopped dead in my tracks and gawked. Ron pawing all over me to see what had stopped from exiting the stairway, I tried to push him back.

We both peered out into the hallway, as Ron moaned seductively, as one voluptuous Blonde stood tugging the reins to one large and sexually erect, male Jackass. She was speaking to the animal, talking to it as if it should understand her. The very male animal stood there cocking his head, listened, as she continued to tell him of a simpler life, one where he would know of personal fulfillment. Nagging him, she told of a farm, where he would join another jackass. There, according to her the two of them would find pleasure, both kept for use as stud breeders.

It was when she mentioned David again, suggesting he was an animal, a Jackass. I heard this and my stomach about tossed my lunch.

Ron looked at me, as he said the women were some kind of nuts, but said it loudly. Then with his big hand, he pushed past me, stepping boldly out into the hall, just to the rear of the large animal.

The Blonde woman about jumped out of her skin, seeing Ron, he a tall athletic type walking toward her from down the hall.

Ron smiled, looking stupidly as if a woman tugging a grown Jackass down an apartment hallway was not all that, strange. He spoke to her, suggesting he knew a way to make the stubborn animal move. She nodded her appreciation; the sexy woman stood and eyed Ron carefully. Ron grabbing the Jackass by its tail gave it a twist and yanking it up and over the back of giant animal, he forcibly urged the animal to move.

The Blonde seemed angered at first, but with the animal moving into the elevator, her facial expression changed. The women entered ahead of the Jackass, with Ron stepping in, he holding the animal’s tail, in a manner making it quite uncomfortable. The elevator doors closed, as Ron, bold as brass, rode down with this woman and her Ass.

I stayed where I was wondering and feeling scared for what we heard and had seen.

Fifteen minutes later, the elevator came up to the fifth floor, as the doors opened. The Blonde stepped out first, then turned and motioned for Ron to come, and walk with her to the apartment. Ron stepping past her eyed me peeking out from the stairway, his eyes shifting, as to suggest I remain hidden.

I am a timid person, but at times becoming insatiably inquisitive. Using great care not to make any noise, I stepped out into the hallway after seeing Ron ushered into the apartment of those three strange women.

Once they went inside, I crept up to the apartment door, ear tight to the sash and listened.

Inside I could hear Ron began to talk, he sounding quite gallant but cut to the quick asking directly about David. He made up his story as he talked, telling of his friend and he having an appointment to meet. Lying like a rug, Ron told of their plans to eat out and party the night away as two ole friends.

As I stood in the hallway listening I was beginning to think he was laying it on a little thick, his story was beginning to sound too off the cuff! Although when he became direct to the point and asked if any of the women there knew of David, and where he might have gone, the women laughed in a boisterous manner.

The women never responded to the question, but as Ron and his questions floated in the air unanswered, I heard another female voice. This new voice spoke out harshly, as she seemed angered by being questioned, remarking that she and her sisters did not trust or like men!

Her harsh tone continued, as she asked Ron first if he had been to the apartment A6, as if suggesting he was poking his nose where it was not appreciated.

Then I heard another voice, this one speaking softly, rather sexy and seductive sounding. She asked a question that stopped the other two women from speaking, because her question caused a chill to run down my spine.

“Ron, you name is Ron that is your name? Listen and do as what I say, now when my fingers touch your eyes they will close and whatever we women ask of you, you will do without asking any questions, do you hear me Ron?”

I imagined Ron had introduced himself to the Blonde when they both went down inside the elevator. Yet his voice showed no nervous apprehension of his situation as might I if we exchanged places. The one sided conversation became quickly one of something provocative when one woman told, ordered Ron to disrobe, strip naked and then walk into their living room.

I stood by the door wondering what scheme they might be planning.

Even before he could answer, one of the women must have moved close to Ron. I thought that because she made a sensual moan, followed by one from Ron. An instant later one of the women spoke, demanding of her sister not to continue her mouthing of his penis, but to come and sit, to watch the show.

The same woman spoke again but this time using a voice of authority. I remember it well as her words sent another chill down my spine turning into a flaring flood of goose pimples.

“We three are sisters in a coven that has no use for men, young or old, they are not trustworthy, and what cannot be trusted must made to become as something easier to control. We and others of our coven are all devote members to one aim. Standing together as three of the order, and belonging to The Sisters of Circe,” she announced with a bold sort of personal pride.

Hearing her announcement, Ron spoke up loudly, speaking just one word.

“What!”

Now he and I both knew of Circe, the Greek witch and daughter of the Sun God. She was a women, who once scorned by a man, became then wicked and tending a perverse hatred for men in general. Her terrible powers had according to myths, doomed many a man to bestial existence. This announcement poised my thinking of that Jackass in the hall, of what the women said, how it resembled Dave; and now what might then they do to Ron?

She continued then with her ranting speech as telling Ron about their cult, and becoming out spoken of a hatred for men being as, well men! I listened in wonder and horror, the excitement of what was said inside the apartment was arousing on me an erection of major proportions.

“We are like our patron mother and the Enchantress herself, we have hand honored copies of all her many books. See here set into that bookcase, they stand on the shelf, and we keep them handy for such occasions when a man comes into our apartment. As sisters of the faith, we are self taught, but well able to take men who come face to face with us and grant them a change of form and one drastic a different lifestyle.

Most of those we meet with and are so unfortunate to be born as male end up on a farm we being partners with she who owns and manages it. She e-mails us with any orders for, or needs to fill a sale, and we provide her with an animal of fine form and in good health.

Given time and with the instinctive urges causing the animal to take a predominate control of the animal body. A few mating sessions degrades the human mental abilities. They so changed lose touch with what they were, and near ignorant of what they had since become. As beasts they live on, being in every way as if born to be as if an animal, crude, brutish, and like all males, they strain to show their sexual dominance.

Now some are special even to us, Dave for example lives on as a virile male Jackass, he mounting and humping animals, is the farm sire for breeding of mules. His mind went blank of all human knowledge and concern, except when he stands and is mounted and is thrusting. When acting like a brute male beast his mental human aspects returns, and feeling humiliated at what his must do, he does it well, sometimes returning to mate several more mounting on the same day.

A few we decide as for whatever the reason, we let them retain their human mentality. As such they then have a fully alert realization of what they were and as well of what we made them become. Some realize what we can and plan to do to them, and with them then having a childhood fantasy animal desire, if it meets as well our needs, we sometimes grant them their wished want.

The granting of retaining their wits and intellect you might think is a gracious act, but in reality it is just the opposite. What was born human and grew up that way, is then suddenly thrust into a body and bestial lifestyle so brutal, most are alert and totally terrified of how their animal body forces them to live and survive.” Another she having said, and then making a lurid chuckle. Making it obvious even to someone younger than was Ron that what these women can do, humors them. As having heard this rant of pride and power, the two other sisters who came out right and laughed with a sadistic manner.

Then one of the women spoke up as to her obvious intent for Ron as if doomed in a similar manner like was the other male she spoke about. “Kyle is now just as we liked him better. You knew him as that large Jackass that would not willingly go into and then down in the elevator, he knowing his entering the pen below would begin his instinctive behavioral tendencies. He was one granted his full faculties too, acknowledging of who he was, and is, and of having become now an animal, at least in body. His situation will be just the opposite of all the others, as when he feels the urge to breed, the excitement will eliminate all human ideals. In essence his knowing of self then traded to be brutal, he acting wholly bestial. Instincts then prevail making him for a short time to be as if a true animal.”

I stood outside in the hall clearly able to listen as she and or her other sisters took their turns of trying incite in Ron a sense of the horror to come. They boasted of their abilities, and as well of what they have done with many men. Admiration of self, they were on an ego trip suggesting how women were superior, rather than equal to men. She denoted how men think naturally as do animals. In part, I had to agree that Ron at least, spent a large part of his day thinking only of male pleasures and sex with women.

The harsh speaking sister told her kinky sister to be quiet; as I heard the sound of someone then getting slapped. It was the Blonde sister who spoke out of turn, as I knew her voice from when she talked with Ron in the hallway. She first taunted him asking if he liked their bodies, and then in a childish way she taunted again as wondering if Ron thought the three women had nice butts.

Again the harsh sister spoke, her voice suggesting the anger she had for her sister carried now to Ron; he being male and still human.

She began again to tell of their goal, that to rid the world of men; as had Circe long ago. She said that they give no consideration to age, but changing all male humans into some kind of animal and true bestial a form. Her admiration for Circe showed in the way her words flowed, a version of how they would determine the nature of a male and then have him become something similar as a beast. Those who were strong of will usually became greater brute animals, unlike Circe who made of men to be Lions, Tigers and Bears, she and her sisters had need of certain animals for the farm they used as an outlet and placement of they so changed.

The use of the farm owned and managed appropriately for them and their ideology allowed for sending men there as bulls, boars, rams, donkeys, mules, horses, and not all going there retained their original gender. Then there were others who being submissive or as she thought of them as true cowards, became an equal as beasts, dogs, nanny goats, ewe sheep, and of course, sow pigs.

Those who where once men, go to that farm and there mated, breeding, they making for the Sisters their living. As if from dooming all men they were announcing of there delighted theme, going to visit those they changed, and so doing continued reinforcing their female will upon those they made into animals.

I listened as she told of that doomed man named Kyle; he having come to their apartment with hope of a sale to the sisters of a new vacuum sweeper. His stubborn attitude at the door won him being the first male of the new day to be dehumanized, that then time of the morning the sisters were not yet fully awake.

He kept up his aggressive sales pitch until Marla; she, as I would learn later was one of the sisters, having a head of Blonde curls. Marla asked those provocative questions, always jesting as if men like looking at their sexy bodies.

Kyle, she thought of as mostly polite if not a little too stubborn. He made his way in past the threshold, entering the apartment and began to show off his sweeper. Marla told of being her seductive self, she mentioning how she stepped close to him and pressed her ample breasts against his chest, and a hand to grip at his maleness.

One sister named as Elaine congratulated Ron for his gallantry in coming to help Marla in the hallway. She spoke of his obvious intentions, as he had lacked to ask any questions, saw only a pretty woman alone on the fifth floor of an apartment building. Oddly he had discounted her straining, trying to wrangle a male Jackass into an elevator.

She laughed recanting how Ron took hold of the rope-like tail, wrenching it up and forward, the discomfort forcing a stubborn animal into the elevator; and then going the extra distance to helping place the animal into the holding pen. Her conversation continued as if to suspect Ron knew all along the animal was not always such, but might have once been human.

I could only hear through the door, but suspected she might easily be the one who moaned earlier, and had made Ron groan.

The more that women ranted with their delights, Ron tried to fight the spell cast to keep him silent, attentive, and obedient. Yet through the haze they made in his mind he managed to speak, his voice being quite shaky. He sounded understandably as if scared, he at first having boldly approached these women. He having heard as much as I, he would be seeking of some way to make his escape. He mumbled something, it surprised the sisters. One woman asked Ron before he fully spoke his thought, as if he wanted to leave them before they were finished enhancing him?

Ron and I both heard of what the women talked about earlier, so his inklings, if any were quite correct. One sister said how Kyle had finished his changing just two hours ago. She sneered, at how he as they liked to toy with those changed, Marla taunting Kyle into his first Jackass size of an arousal. Appreciative the sensations then given their victims, inciting beastly lust as a human mind battled with the horror and avid sensualities.

He, Kyle she told would join David, my brother on a farm, but as for Ron, the sisters needed to confer. Marla twanged in with her silly sounding, childish voice, telling of their meeting with David just three weeks to this very day. She thought he was so sincere, handsome too! She was reminded of a gallant steed when he came to their door, insisting of his need for quiet, being frustrated by the noise of another man meeting his new future. When she saw him blush it suggested her glorious stallion, was really other than a mighty steed.

Then Edna announced her name, as she asked Marla to get the book. She spoke with such a slow and seductive voice too, not brash she made my blood run cold. Grumbling at Marla, saying she was but a goofy minded girl. Telling as reminding her, she thinks handsome men should remain, handsome! Edna saw through to what David was, brash, a stubborn streak a mile wide.

My brother and his true personality doomed him in her mind, she seeing how he became easily aroused. It was of her suggestion he looked more like a horny male Donkey. Elaine agreed, and silly Marla giggled her agreement, both mentioning of how David did so plead and cry showing his true self, to be a coward. It was this and other reasons why the three Sisters thought themselves as doing the world a favor, ridding it of yet another, MAN!

If accepting their accounts as facts, once they moved David to the farm, they stated how his mind degraded to that of a horny Jack. His basic delight in feeling himself buried sheath hilt deep, he thrusting, working his disgusting male organ like a jackhammer, and living life as should a male donkey.

I heard Marla as she came huffing into the front foyer of their apartment, as from her sounds I knew she was touting something quite heavy. A thud resounded out as if she dropped it, her two sisters grumbling over Marla being so clumsy.

Sister Edna screamed at Marla, grumbling that she might next get out the family album and show to Ron pictures, showing the girls growing up, and of what their mom did to her unfaithful husband and their Dad.

Edna grumbled more at her sister, reminding Marla to pay better attention of Ron.

Ron groaned again his voice sounding lower and maybe more coaxed out from his guts. I shuddered, thinking of him inside the apartment. Those insane women, witches, haters of male humans, and endowed with the powers to make anyone into an animal.

Edna seemed on the offensive, she taunted Ron, of what he would be soon and as of how it would feel. As she tried to terrify her prey, talking about how he would battle to keep the equine instincts from taking him ever deeper into being a brute animal.

She chided about men, all who were male, just as Ron too for thinking of the Sisters as being silly females, when instead she was soon to make him the fool.

Elaine gave her two cents stating it was time to begin. She mentioning that another woman, named Hazel, would arrive about six that night. Then using a very antagonistic sounding tone of voice, she suggested of how Ron would get to meet her, but might have his own worries to consider.

As Ron groaned then, he straining hard against the spell making him wholeheartedly obedient, he would otherwise have fought them to escape such a fate and doom. He like others stood there trapped, helpless, he considering everything thought to ask then of a doom he wished they would do to him. Ron then strained out a few words, he said, “Bull, make me a bull!”

Marla ignored what Ron said, she continued her taunting, telling things about dull ole David, his easy transition into being a sturdy donkey. She told of their recent victim Kyle. As Edna chimed in began asking her sisters of what Ron reminded them of, as if casting lots, and being quite democratic she wanted each sister to vote. She said too of how her sister Elaine took note of Ron and his exceptionally muscular body, as if he had for years worked out doing weight lifting. She quipping him as the proverbial bull form the china shop. To her suggestion, a wave of witchery power made Ron grunt out a painful moan. Ron spoke again, he pleading, said, “Me be a Bull!”

Edna laughed loudly, she agreeing with her other sister. As with Elaine, Edna must have walked up to Ron, testing or squeezing something of him to attest he was of an athletic build. As whatever she did, Ron made a groan the sound of it as relatively sensual it made me think that she might have squeezed something he enjoyed, as she would soon be pleased in seeing that on him as transformed.

Three plops of round sweet rumps on a couch begged the situation, making Ron moan again, this time suggesting of him feeling pain.

I was as you might expect scared; but wanting to help Ron escape his bestial doom, I gave the doorknob a slow twist. To my surprise, the knob turned as the door remained unlocked. I stepped inside using great caution, yet frantic and wild of my great fantasy, having the fond hope or wish it was me standing before those women.

Once inside I stood in the apartment foyer. The foyer offered two directions, allowing me to peer into the living room, where I saw Ron. He stood with his athletic self, naked, slightly hunched forward, and standing on some wooden pedestal. He saw me enter and motioned by using his eyes suggested the whereabouts of the three sisters.

I stood for a moment as the sisters sat seated just out of my sight, made verbal notations. Some of what they said was in Latin, while other statements made in English, but all made Ron groan with abdominal pains.

A quick look to the other exit from the foyer offered a hallway. This led to their kitchen and turning a left corner, it offered another short hall to the bedrooms. In and between was an archway that opened to the living room.

Working my way along an inside hallway, I came to stand peering into the living room from the arch. As from there I was standing some distance to the rear of the three sister seated on the couch. Ron was almost directly across the room, standing on that strange two foot tall, pedestal.

They were obviously amused, especially seeing their victim standing as one spellbound and being so helpless. It was as their spell held the person at bay they where wheeling other forces, as if to begin and reshape Ron. He stood on a pedestal his back to a brick fireplace. The women sat on a couch, their backs in my direction. To their right was the bookshelf, it loaded with old volumes of books and ledgers, no doubt filled full of cursed names of men changed.

Groaning something awful, Ron stood looking my way and saw me peeking at him. His arms and hands hung down as if pressed by some unknown force. His clothing gone, I saw his skin tone changing to deeper darkening a shade. Ron liked to go to the sun tanning lounge, his general tan was fast turning to a deep black; looking more like leather than human skin.

I looked at him shivering, his boldness drained, as he was scared half to death. Waiting on every word and phrase of the Sisters, Ron looked as if he felt anxiety reflecting his then sporting an erection that the sisters seemed to enjoy and I could easily see.

Ron sighed, and then inhaled a deep breath, he exhaled it, forcing out again his pleading few words, said, “Make me a bull, a black bull…!”

His beckoned plea seemed to mix with whatever the sisters were beginning should happen and become of Ron. He with his normally bulging muscles was changing, rearranging him from standing, as does a human. The first suggestion that his new form of self was at its beginning held him poised awkwardly.

I noted then from the fireplace behind where Ron stood came up a wisp of smoke. Looking past him, there smoldering was Ron’s clothing, wallet and identification, it flaming up, and soon lay as a light ash.

Breathing heavily, huffing and puffing Ron sounded like a man who just ran the mile in less than a minute. He was not giving a care to the women sitting there in front of him. His total thoughts were captive of his own feelings, and for some reason he was showing signs of feeling a bit of ecstasy.

I watched Ron, his face had darkened, turning almost blue and then changed to black. His skin everywhere else was already a deep shade of black. I watched intently, noting the sprouting black hairs peaking out, covering Ron soon from head to foot, then thickening into some beastly sort of pelt.

His muscular body now covered in a blackened hide began to remind me of something bovine, as his athletic muscles flared larger contrasting well from his black coat of bestial hair. His blackened body hair glistening in the light from lamps set about the living room; as it made Elaine swoon and moan.

He snorted, it sounded just like I remember a bull did once at the nature center. The snorting expanded his nostrils, as they pressed outward and began to merge with his upper lip. At that moment, he closed his eyes, giving me to wonder if his sensation of pain had reached some intolerable level.

Ron being the owner of one exceptional body, now looked like something from a horror movie. If not for the fact of him going to his demise, I was quite erect with my own sensual fantasy, wishing for a moment to step forward and join Ron as maybe becoming another big black bull.

My own hands came to feeling the sweat on my nervous face. A passing thought of empathy, seeing Ron, his head growing larger, squared in a bovine way. His ears taking shape common to a bull, his ears flopping and moving, again another sign of his anxious anxiety, feeling his body becoming all the more quickly changing into that of a Bull.

A moan rolled out his mouth, eyes closed ever more tightly shut. His face and head looking like some large bovine, as a neck gained in mass giving to the need of supporting such a massive head.

Humorously Elaine remarked how Ron was changing so nicely, she asking her sisters of their intentions. The question poised was if Ron like Kyle should continue to keep his mental self, alive. In short order they all thought Ron worthy to keep his memory and the human ability to understand. In essence they wanted him to totally realize of what they had done to him. There verbal pondering got a rather supportive moan from Ron, suggesting to them and me, that he would prefer to keep his mental faculties.

Bovine shaped nostrils flared, as hearing Elaine remark more about how he would remain able to think, knowing and realizing, learning to graze, to appreciate nice furry butts and of sniffing cow sex, then mounting, would mate, breed as would a bull.

Unlike me, Ron had never voiced any thought or fantasy about a desire to be anything other than his very athletic and handsome self. Even if I stood watching what was happening and becoming almost painfully erect from it, had the tables turned and that were me up there changing, well I think I would be rather enjoying my self!

Just then Ron gave a shivering wiggle to his upper lip, as it made him show his newly larger white bovine shaped teeth. He could not see it happened but probably felt his lip merge in with the nostrils of his broad nose. As he made chewing motions his mouth and nose conformed into a true bovine shaped muzzle.

I thought how seeing Ron changing and growing of muscle and mass, he reminded me of some monster in a werewolf movie. Ron jerked and twitched from one pain or maybe feeling enhanced in some sensual sort of way. On occasion he would moan or give a short scream. His worst agony occurred when feeling the tailbone jut out, growing link by link, moving out, and then hanging down and across his flattened buttocks.

To this Ron seemed as if more horrified from the sensation, as being a reminder he soon would become as and permanently a brute beast, an animal, and be degraded in dexterity if not mind to that of a common bull.

He breathed harshly; huffing and puffing as possibly the change was causing some effects to his lungs. This caused his blackened hide to become sweaty, as he twisted and wrenched his changing torso a literal foam coated his furry body.

By that time his face was almost unable to show any expression, all he could do was groan when muscles cramped and joints snapped as they adjusted to the spell and desire of those Sisters.

The Sisters gave a rather sensual moan as all three sat on the front edge of their couch watching a nice guy become a bestial brute.

They and I had our attention captive seeing as his ribs began to barrel outward. The ribs made more space for the multi number of stomachs a bovine has, as too his bodily organs would likely grow much bigger on account his body weight might in due time top a thousand pounds.

As the size and shape of his human torso became bovine like, the powerful spell went to work rebuilding a pelvis and the legs Ron would trod the earth upon all fours. Soon Ron had a stance lurched forward as his human legs hunched downward, feet lengthened, and a human heel became the mighty hock of a very bovine leg.

Ron shook first one foot and then the other, maybe feeling them grow from the human size thirteen to something so long he would never again need to wear shoes. Seemingly the changes that made his feet become bovine sent such odd feelings it made Ron become near frantic, or anxious, knowing the transformation would soon be over and done.

Even as his audience watched in amusement or as in my case I felt some longing to know his coming sensual delight. He jerked and twisted, stretching his legs as skin, hair, and brute muscle became part of him. Ron gave his first true and wholly bovine sounding bellow, as if feeling the need to try his bullish voice.

So much of Ron had changed almost instinctively had he transformed, as transitioning his well formed human body stood adorned with sleek black fur, brandishing new stout muscles, increased bone structure, and a near unimaginable increase of physical mass.

He stood looking like some giant black monster as he continued for the present to stay balanced and standing upright. As he had grown in size, Ron stood taller, almost able to touch the Sisters living room ceiling.

I was ready to scream myself from one terrified scene, as minutes passed, watching Ron change into a Bull. Nervous and anxious, I could but stand there as my good friend stood jerking of cramps and pains. The sight of his toes all knurled into two separate lumps, as a tan ooze of horn coated and made them into large coven hoofs.

As bovine eyes rolled around in their sockets, they suggested an alert mind straining to cope with terrible realization it was not wishing to be a part of some beast and bull. He stood there teetering on the pedestal. Ron struggled to remain upright as if he were still a man. He moved his forelegs, trying to do with them as one would when trying to keep balanced while standing in some odd situation. His arms by this time had realigned, faced forward, more now like forelegs of his new bovine self.

I stood by the archway watching, my own feelings reaching out as a personal empathy for my friend, Ron. A hand in my pocket throttled an erection so massive; I can hardly dare to speak of it. The sight of what I was a witness was unequaled by any movie picture I had ever seen. If one could see this happen to a friend or some person, the sensual sensation is beyond description.

Ron looked down with some caution, as he cocked his then massive head trying to ogle the changes he felt between those broad thighs. Another moan groaned out of his wide mouth, this seemed as coming from one enveloped of feeling the sensual impact. I think Ron could fully understand he was not any longer to be a man, changed so radically of species, as he began to act and think, accepting his change of fate.

The sisters roared with impetuous laughter, making comments of how he found his beastly self as enjoyable, if not just thrilling.

A sudden wave of sensation forced Ron to clutch his forelegs and now cloven hoofs tightly against a fur covered chest. His guts gurgled, making ugly sounds as three empty stomachs longed for food.

Again I watched as the sisters laughed, as Ron stepping slowly, moving and turning he danced about in a small circle. His cloven hoofs made a chattering sound, as he turned around on the wooden pedestal; this tickled Elaine as she pointed at Ron and laughed loudly.

Literally whirling faster in small circles, Ron seemed oblivious to all there, as snotty strings trailed out nostrils. With his mouth open and showing a toothy grin, a thick black tongue reached outward and licked at the trailing strings of snot.

This started another round of wild laughter, the Sisters overjoyed at how their spell was working, having changed a man so much to be a bull and was then working hard to remove all traces of his humanity.

Ron seemed confused his dancing slowed to a stop. The finished growth of new bovine teeth, they being large slab like things, made for cutting grass and mashing his food into a green mush and slurry. He lifted his head, looking at the women, as well in my direction as I stood throttling my own feelings and desire.

I was amazed to see him actually wink at me, a thing he did often using his left eye when finding something enjoyable to his male disposition. He had made this gesture at me many a time while we walked together down the street, as when he was seeing a pretty woman.

I stood there stunned at his optical suggestion, as if he actually found his transformation as something exciting, maybe sensual, and totally out of character for him, it was then possibly considered desirable!

At first, the thought struck me with such personal horror. The perverted concept of Ron, my brother David, and of Kyle, as all became willing by the powerful spell to give up their humanity; this had me about ready to run off, screaming.

Now he stood almost a real bull, jet black of fur covering a body made of rigid toned muscles, Ron cocking his head again to see of what he then felt happening. His body changed becoming bovine in shapes and toughness, his maleness was straining to conform. A jerk and some shivers made me note what had to be a strange sensation, as from his deep groin I saw his testicles swelling.

A deep breath and Ron working his mouth oddly, using his larynx as would a ventriloquist he blurted out the saying as few words of thanks. As if pleased of what he had become, delighted of what the sisters had him feeling, thrilled he stood willingly ready to assume a new life. Ron literally said “Thanks,” to the sisters for changing him into a bull!

His barely intelligible words spoken, making all there sit up and take notice. The Sisters too having each a stunned expression, they turning to look at a sister, mouths open as if showing the utter surprise.

Ron had a voice sounding deeper than normal, harsh as if he had to force out the words out using his diaphragm to expel enough air to speak. His words were slurred and with his speaking, again offered a view of his very bovine teeth.

It is of a remembered time in biology class a long time back during high school. The teacher did show his class the jaw and teeth of some poor, dead bovine. Those like now Ron sported, marbled white and yellow color. His tongue black, thick, as his face straining to force a bovine bull face to show an expression, as if he wanted to smile with showing all his feelings of personable delight.

Then he stopped all together, his try at having a human expression on a bovine face drained away. He stood awkwardly, teetering on hind bovine legs spread awkwardly apart. As with every move he made, those growing testicles dropped lower, swaying, bouncing off his bovine bull, hocks.

That stupid pleasured look he tried to muster had gone as he twisted his massive gut. The muscles of his deepened groin twitching, he moaning and bellowing then as would a bull feeling some discomfort.

I stared and watched, my eyes transfixed upon Ron and his groin as what was his human maleness was on the move.

The sisters sat rolling about the couch with wild laughter, amused to no end of Ron’s plight.

A deep breath he straightened up, stretching his body out long and tall. As arms now forelegs, they reached to the ceiling. The sound of a harsh pop came from his mid section as bovine shaft jutted out just below his twisted knot of a navel. He stood suspended tall, his large heavy head pointing upward as well. I saw his eyes strain to focus down on the Sisters, and at me.

The swelling testicles swung in a loose hung bag. Furry, but only slightly it was easy to see the veins and tube that would send his semen to its proper tool for insertion. He wiggled his bovine butt, tail swaying, making humping thrusts as thick skin pouch formed, becoming as his sheath. As layers of thick muscle grew and spread, it hung loosely to his belly, as if waiting to a final moment.

Ron let loose a loud roaring bellow as if it was his only way to speak now. He tilted his head down and the Sisters and I too, looked closely as the sheath moved. Ripples of movement pressed out a circumcised, but bovine length shaft. The Tulip head of what Ron had as a man made it through the total transformation of man to beast, bovine and Bull.

As if in slow motion, the lengthening shaft pressed itself out of the sheath. Inching out it swelled to something larger than even Elaine gasped of what she saw hung there before her lusting eyes. Soon it stood out erect, elongated, the Tulip shaped end narrowed quickly, but thickening near its base adjoining the sheath. The reddish color of it reminded me of a summer sausage, a mass of pebbly reds, white, and brown to where it reentered the sheath.

A shaft looking slick and as if somehow made oily, the sheath feeler hairs stuck and clinging to its stout skin. It was a major contrast to Ron standing there with his blackened furry hide.

The sheath moved having s shimmy as the large bull rump made three harsh, pelvic thrusts. Ron stood with shaft out steel hard, rigid beyond his or my wildest ability to imagine. I watched it, fascinated by the shape as it nearly two feet of sexual length, standing erect and exposed to all, Ron felt some sort of pleasure in showing off his new maleness.

The Sisters watched Ron begin to work his new maleness. The Sisters sat all turning their heads in unison, watching as seeing three long jetted streams of bovine semen roar out the end of the erect shaft. A boiling mix of white juices and splattering on one previously well adorned spot of the living room wall.

Standing and peering around the corner of the entrance to the living room I was obviously captivated watching a miracle unfolding before my eyes. As Ron finished his bullish transformation I had actually stepped past the corner, standing just a few feet behind the couch holding three powerful sisters.

After a long moment the first rendition of male bovine masturbation, Ron took a deep breath and then sighed as if to show he felt some sense of relief. The sisters sat there chattering amongst themselves, occasionally chiding Ron, gabbing about how he made a very nice looking bull, and looking at that very messy living room wall.

Undoubtedly as if from past transformational conquests, this section of the wall held many dried splatters of differing colors, all of male semen, from those the sisters changed to be as stud animals.

Once Ron composed himself some, his male pleasured sensations having subsided and that rigid shaft softened, drawing itself back into the sheath; Ron began to look as if he was feeling quite anxious.

The Sisters all took their turns poking fun of Ron as being a bull, of his sheath and the dangling long coarse hairs that adorned the opened end. Marla got to her feet and without looking around, less she saw me standing there in the back of their living room, she walked up to Ron and began to finger the hairs that adorned his bullish sheath.

Down lower hung two large testicles grown in size to equal a pair of major league baseballs. They did show quite some heft, swaying as if heavy whenever Ron moved a step in any direction. Ron felt the new sensations, turning some, tilting his great head, trying to see with one bugged eye how his balls and sheath looked.

Marla stood there by her new bull she continued to feel him up, as if her passion was of someday to be a true bovine slut cow.

Ron stood then upright, but feeling his weight shift, he began to slowly, lower his new self to stand on all fours. Looking then even so out of proportion standing on his small pedestal, he stood precariously with four sets of cloven hoofs all tucked tightly together. He turning his head to face Marla, as if trying to get her to look at him and not see me.

I stood there shaking in my shoes, scared if they caught me, yet somewhat wishing they would, while wondering what I might become, whether they would make me as I asked or do with me something like Kyle, Ron, David, or heaven only knows what!

Marla reached out and gave a friendly scrub with a soft and nimble hand to Ron’s forelock. Then she took her scratching fingers to trace along his spine, giving a loop about his tail; as then knelt down aside his flank.

Her hands moved to touch the low hung sheath. She began to squeeze the thing as if it were a washrag, needing to be wrung dry. I watched with interest and wonder as Ron stool silent and very calmly, seemingly enjoying what Marla was doing.

I might have said it before, but Marla was one kinky female! She toying with Ron, and his exceptionally large maleness I watched and choked as she poked her index finger up inside the sheath.

Silly Marla knelt by Ron, her hands playing with his new bullish maleness. She chanting a rhyme, “Tickle, tickle, let me feel your pickle!”

Edna and Elaine sat laughing themselves sick watching their younger sister work her ways, as if the dimwitted pervert of their family.

Marla moaned seductively in her own sordid way; as she toying with Ron tried her best to drive out from him his learned morals. Her playing received a renewed erection as the pink rod jutted suddenly from the end of a bovine bullish sheath.

As her one hand gripped the hearty circumcised knob, she slid up and down the hot shaft. Pushing the shaft out into the room light, while all could see the steaming vapors rising from it, slick with natural lubricant it dripped of oils, while flaked from the dried encrustations of his own semen.

Ron bellowed his bull voice softly, he twisting his heavy bull neck to allow one big round eye to watch this woman do her thing. Marla moaned from the raw sensation of a manly mind asserting to live and learn to love as does a bovine bull; if only from her touch.

The throbbing sensations Ron could muster, making his bovine penis somehow vibrate, as if she might then know that what she did was quite pleasing him. Marla laid her head against the broad thighs, as Ron began to make slow back and forth pelvic thrusts. The moves simulated his learning the patterns for humping a cow. As he stood now mature in size, bovine of species, and quite male as a bull, his calmness suggested to me he found his new self as an unbelievable sort of thrill.

I stood there as if in a trance as well, watching of my friend enticed to masturbate as do beasts and bulls. Marla worked on his animal side, instilling him to act more as an animal, and being for her sisters something to make big money working as a sire for hire.

Grunting and snorting suggested how Ron felt with Marla toying about his new maleness.

Catcalls from the two person female audience, had Marla doing more and disgusting things to Ron that one might only discover in some house of ill repute. She sat massaging of Ron about his navel, his sheath, and the imposingly long narrow sausage of a bullish shaft, as it protruded out of my good friend.

Edna got up and opened a footstool, removing out from its compartment, a halter made of crimson red rope. She held the rope halter in front of her well endowed chest, she chanted some words; I believe she spoke them in Latin.

I gawked at Ron, seeing he enjoyed now the lurid manner of touching, my own pants beginning to tent upward again and higher, as seeing this I moaned a little too loudly.

Elaine turned toward me, her eyes widened, she smiling and screaming, pointed at me, exclaiming, “Ronny has a very boldly foolish and an inquisitive friend!”

Discovered, I dashed for the apartment door, running as fast as a scared person could; then swung the corner out into the hallway. I heard the sisters get to their feet, scrambling to get the red halter on their new bull and keep Ron in place, while then one of them trying to chase after me.

I ran down the hall and into the stairwell, up the stairs to David’s room and a phone to call the Police. I slammed the apartment door shut, then bolting the lock, and jammed a chair under the knob.

My hands shook terribly, making it near impossible to hit the 9-1-1 buttons.

A sister had followed my obvious trail, by the sound of her voice I knew it was Edna standing just outside of the apartment door. She called to the young man to give up any futile efforts. The tone of her voice seemed so consoling, as if of itself, it was beckoning me to go out of David’s apartment and follow her down to my ultimate and proper fate.

I felt totally sated of my fear and headed for the door to open it and go quietly into some bestial existence. My hand on the door knob when Edna suggested that Ron being a bull would be delighted to have his friend join him, for Ron to cuddle with me, mounting his first real cow!

Animal transformation was my fantasy true enough, but I had not passion for a gender change and becoming a cow for Ron might place our friendship in jeopardy.

Stepping back from the door I urgently looked for something to defend myself. The small kitchenette had a nice assortment of knives; however it was unlikely that I could strike before any or all of those sisters would turn my hands in hooves.

Anxious moments for even Edna as she standing in the hall could not enter, and was near in panic at the idea a man could possibly be so close and yet escape the Sisters. She cursed at me from the hallway, screaming, as then demanding me to come out and face her justice.

She wanted to remind me of how she and her sisters made Ronny find his true fulfillment, even if being as a bull he would retain his maleness, but then he would also live his life as a beast. She mentioned how being male and under their kindly hands his gender would be to his benefit and their profit and continued livelihood. Then too I was to be reminded that the meager pains a man feels when changing is soon forgotten as he begins to breed. Then she spoke of how instincts become my guiding friend, teaching me new patterns to live life, learning to mate, seeking the fullest pleasure from life.

Edna began to sound as if their gifting men to become changed into animals were some award. As if I were her personal quest, she the hunter and I was the game; as if feeling a sense of paranoia, she would relent her first thought of me being a cow and transform me into a sire or stud animal; me being so intelligent and forceful!

I thought for a split second, thinking of me being a herd sire, for some years to come, then sold to the rodeo, or maybe for slaughter. In either case, her idea did not appeal to me. The thought of trusting her with my body and future was ludicrous at best.

Looking about the apartment one would see that brother David was mister neat, while also a safety freak. I was frantic for a method of escape, my mind a muddled mix planning to get home and still wishing to join Kyle and David, but not wanting to be Ron’s favorite cow.

Upon checking in the one bedroom, I spotted the fire escape just outside the window.

Up I pushed the window, forcing it up so hard and fast the glass shattered making a ton of noise.

Edna screamed to her sister of my escaping down the fire escape, she heading for the stairway, as I near flew down the iron steps heading for the alley that led to the parking lot behind the building.

I made my way down to the street level and around the rear of the old apartment building. There to my astonished eyes was of all things a corral built, the pen where gallant Ron helped evil Marla, and placed Kyle as a Jackass, to await his transfer to some farm.

The corral held one large, highly agitated, mentally disturbed, masturbating, Jackass.

I laid out flat on the ground between a watering trough and the corral fence.

Kyle took pity on me, maybe he even knew David and having come to know the apartment building and its tenants as possible customers, he tried to sell to the wrong woman. He just sauntered over toward me, his monster male organ swaying like some fire hose. He pawed at me urging if asking and wanting of me to do something, having his wishful hope of my helping him be again a man, or by the way he stood and displayed his giant black shaft, it was there for me to look at, appreciate and if I wanted as to enjoy.

It was only a few moments later when a roll-up steel door opened, as Edna and Elaine stood on the loading dock with a monster of a bull, as all three were longing to catch sight of me. Ron walking on all fours stood bullish and calm, acting as if a tame pet. His total lack of concern for having become a bull was to me upsetting. Worse than that, he had the only set of keys to his truck, it being my only cheap way home.

Elaine gave a hearty smack to the bullish rump, ordering Ron to step down off the loading dock, and join Kyle in the corral.

A Jackass brayed to welcome to any a friend, as Ron returned the gesture with a hefty moo.

The women walked down the steps, and with closing the corral gate, they locked it; then tossed the two each a carrot. Elaine announced bold as well as brash and openly to the two new animals, informing them both of their shipment later that day to a farm. She said an old woman name of Hazel Bell would take good care of them, if they behaved. She wanted to impress upon the two that allowing their natural instincts and sexual drives to take control would keep them in the good graces of the three sisters.

Ron eyed a look at Kyle, both stood silently by the other, tails swaying and swatting at a fair number of flies that seemed thrilled about two large animal size rumps. As they played with new tails, the two looked rather jealous of the other as each was the essence of perfection in their male beast form.

I waited and watched for some time until feeling assured the sisters had returned upstairs to their apartment. Getting up, I showing myself and approached Ron, Kyle remembering me seemed to understand that the Bull was my mutual friend. Turning together to face me, Ron bellowed his feelings. The Jackass walked over to stand close, giving my hand a friendly lick.

* * * * *

Chapter II: The Farm

It was almost dark when a stock truck arrived. I lay near the water trough listening, but out of sight by all. A large muscular woman came from out her truck and met with the three Sisters. Some money changed hands as they all walked over to stand and look at the newest converts.

Ron went first, tugged along, he walking in a meaningless way up the gangplank, and into the large truck. The older woman, Hazel was her name; tied Ron by his red rope halter and leader rein to a steel ring mounted in the very rear of the cargo area. She then said that she wished the bull had a nose ring, as such rings helped well to keep the beasts under tighter control.

Quick thinking Marla said they had one of the self piercing rings in the apartment and she would go and get it. Hazel stopped her, as she said, “Now that this fellow is a bull, you cannot put one of those self-piercing rings in his nose as he will get furious and you will get killed!”

“Ronny would never do that to one of us!” Elaine said, she walking up to the side of the stock truck and began stroking the fore leg of Ron.

Hazel stood there looking a bit peeved at the Sisters. She speaking to they there added a few words of her wisdom, said, “Your bull here does not have a ring in his nose, so then forget about the idea.

If he did, then do not think you can control him by hanging on to it, clipping a rein and leading him like he was a lamb, because he is a brute! Bulls, especially those made by your magic are muscularly healthier than those born as bulls. If I were to insist on a bull required some added means of control by discomfort, maybe then, but those I buy from you are smarter than you give them proper credits. Having a ring put in his nose would require a veterinarian to put it in using an anesthetic for the nose and a shot to keep the rest of his bulk quiet.”

Next came Kyle the Jackass, he was not so willing. A stubborn man and now too as a Jackass, he balked and strained not wishing to be trucked anywhere. It was Marla with her newly acquired talent, took a hand full of tail, giving it a twist, she forced him to move inside the truck. Hazel watched, she applauding Marla for her new talent at handling stubborn male animals.

The two new animals both loaded and left waiting, Hazel and the three sisters retired to their apartment for some social time. It was much later and getting dark when they emerged, Hazel walking to her truck. Being dark, I made my way to the truck and discovered it to be an antique. This type of truck used several long iron rods to strengthen the load bed, so using the rods as if a hammock, I stretched out beneath and hung on for the ride.

The ride became long smelly as diesel exhaust made me gag, wanting for a breath of fresh air. Then in addition, the nervous pair standing and stomping above me inside the truck caused me some disgust, as the rank smell of fresh manure mixed with trickling urine that came down my way.

At fifty miles per hour and hung over the iron truss rods I could not move much. Both Kyle and Ron were feeling similarly I suspect. The ride offered them time to reflect and think, as vivid scenes of their transforming before those sisters must have given some feelings of embarrassment, or humiliation. I noted this by their continually peeing every half hour, and me getting the lot of it as a shower of stench.

Although I thought it strange of Ron to wink at me, making me think he was actually enjoyed his transformation. I watched a vibrant man lose his human body, becoming a huge brute of an animal. He became docile seemingly his mind was overwhelmed by new sensual sensations. Ron gave in and gave up, either so unable to cope with what happened, or from becoming a bull he felt a sense of freedom totally unlike what he experienced as a human.

Kyle standing above me was so enormous, as if becoming a draft horse size of being a different breed within the species of Jackasses. As from my short encounter with him after he became that animal, his demeanor remained intact.

Oddly to me what the sisters made of Kyle as a Jackass seemed proper if not authorized. Kyle showed his determination first in the fifth floor hallway, and then when I met him in the corral. Personally I thought Kyle had since entering the filthy pen had given in to his situation, as if the raw sensuality of gaining such a huge male organ caused him to become excited about its coming use.

Although he still acted as one nervous and obviously unaccustomed to standing on all fours, walking and knowingly realizing how a herbivore eats and needs to live must have caused him to urinate, he doing his deluge and often. Kyle stood directly above me in the load bay. His feelings of anxiety were expressed by giving forth several, stinking showers of hot Jackass urine.

Twice more than by his showers he began from between the heavy wooden slats that made the load bed, I felt doused with long stringy Jackass virility of his sexual juices. The later flood of urine only turned into a musky mist, this suggesting his having a heightened sense of anxiety. Whether as a Jackass or otherwise, he then masturbated himself, spewing onto the floor of that old truck his load of still changing semen. As the urine acted like some thinner, the mixture then rained from between the crevasses in the load bed.

I must admit that those two showers were something very different. The thick scent of his urine changed, becoming so provocative to me personally, I began to consider the thought of asking the sisters to make me a jackass too!

My eyes watered and I could only blink them, as both hands were in constant and a very necessary use, they holding me on those vibrating iron truss rods.

We went through city traffic and out the freeway until coming to a dirt road that led along a river to a country farm. Unbelievably even to me today, I suspect my fantasizing after the musky smelling spray lulled me to fall dangerously into a time of slumber.

Fortune favored I remained stretch across those hard riding iron truss rods, less I would have fallen under the broad tires of that ten ton truck. Somehow I had held on, remaining in my iron hammock until awakened after the truck was stopped and unloaded at that country farm.

The chirping of birds awoke me, returning me to my living a life then of fear, less discovered I be possibly become a working part of that farm.

A look around found myself as an unexpected guest of Hazel Bell and her livestock farm. Working myself free of the iron hammock, I stood up to look around with obvious caution.

A large white house with red shutters stood not far to the right. I turned around and looking left there was two huge barns. They too were white with red trim and surrounding the barns a number of steel fenced corrals.

The sounds of female voices turned my head, seeing two very pretty young women approaching, as they exited from the main house and were walking in my general direction.

Quick thinking to hide, I doubled over dashing toward a nearby corral and fell flat next to watering trough.

The two women jumped into the truck and drove off talking of piggy boars and how they like to mate with sows.

I slowly stood up on my knees and then hearing another sound spun around.

There looking at me in a calm manner stood one large, black and white, as a very well and endowed male Jackass. He stood there his ears twitching and tail slowly swinging back and forth. His nostrils wiggled, as no doubt the breeze wafted my differing scent in his direction.

A ragged bray followed his taking interest as the same sound came from his exact double standing on the opposite end of that corral.

I then remembered the words one of the Sisters of Circe spoke, as the Jackass was to meet and be good friends with David. So to test the waters I said softly and in as calm a tone of voice possible, saying the names David, and then Kyle.

The big animal ears perked up and with a soft grumbling sound, it began to saunter closer toward me. I knelt near the fence, ready to jump between the steel bars that made up the corral fence in case the beast should try to attack.

As he came closer, the animal was having a typical male equine reaction to something it considered nice. I watched with an almost enchanted sort of lust seeing his sheath roll out first a flat knob end of his giant penis. Then it filled out, dropping to become a huge black hose, swaying and swinging with his every step.

The thing stiffened becoming very hard, showing his excited arousal over seeing me, and wishing to be near to me. I eyed this massive male organ for the first time up and close, knowing that most equines have a flat end and flared flange, this fellow had there a circumcised shape of a knob. It puckered to something very large that seemed it would be difficult if not impossible for such to ever fit into a mare. I fantasized for a long minute, thinking how even if erect and had a blunt end, the thing must be some horrible pain when it is jammed into a lusty mare.

Suddenly I felt very guilty, my years of religious rearing reminded me of the way I was turning my animal fantasy into something quite perverted. The dream of becoming some handsome horse or even as had Ron, to be a bull of great size and strength was with the dream of just living life in a different way and or form. The ramifications of such lifestyle was then not realized, I never gave much thought to what an animal feels toward mating.

My hand reached out with a twisted desire to take hold of the big Jack, to touch and get the feel of his massive male organ.

In that split second of perverted indecision my movement was stopped by hearing a husky voice from behind me. Turning quickly, I pivoted on one knee to look up into the aged face of Hazel Bell. Her face showed her years, but otherwise she stood there looking strong and healthy, maybe a benefit from living on a working farm.

In that same split second with turning away from touching the Jackass down low, my hands both dropped limp to touch the ground.

A warm and friendly smile came over Hazel’s face, as she spoke then with a soft and caring sound in her voice. Her first words were of warning me not to touch the male organ of animals, even her special ones, as their shafts go places and get dirty, making them infectious.

I announced that the Donkey was once my older brother!

The sense of fear welled in my throat, wondering if I might shortly also be striding about on four legs and hoofs.

Hazel could understand my natural feelings of distrust, she motioned for me to stand up and face her. Then with a snicker and a mild sort of chuckle she talked of having only a working partnership with the Sisters. Her goal was to take ownership of those that became animals before the sisters sent them to slaughter, or some other method of death.

Her words suggested of a woman with some sense of moral consideration for those men changed to be as animals, were still in some way worthy to be treated better than would those accursed sisters desire.

She then motioned her had to wave toward her entire farm, saying she found those changed into animals came to her as perfectly healthy specimens. Those changed came into her possession as each a strong bodied, virile, and sexually delighted animal. In her way of thinking she was more than saving them from an early death; it was for her good business!

I stood listening, rather astounded while she spoke, and of how she would pay top dollar for those made into animals, tending toward greed of the Sisters to save those poor men from some beastly doom.

Those changed and being then a prime stock helped Hazel to sell them to proper and caring folks that saw an animal and felt love for them as a useful pet. She explained it was different than slavery, as those being sold were then as animals without any legal rights. As by her choice each when sold were sent to a place they could live out their lives in a cared for environment.

She made comment about my brother David, he having first fought the onslaught of his instinctive drives, learned in a week his trade so well, he reacted favorably to her suggestion he be leased out for a stud. It seemed odd how after all his struggled years of schooling he, my brother would decide that living as in an animal and being bestial was best for him. I stood there silently thinking of my learned brother, his five years in college were a waste. The wonder of what to tell mother, how does one explain gracefully that what was a member of your family was transformed.

How mom would take the news of her oldest son becoming as and became then willingly to live as does a Donkey? Worse yet, what could I say, to say it nicely of how David has since willingly preferred to remain a stud animal. Telling too of his desires then of mounting mares and female equines, he giving up his humanity, his grand plans for a bright future, and even his belief in religion, something our father if still alive would never be in agreement!

A playful shove from the large donkey standing behind me suggested it knew me. I turned to him, wondering how to know if it were Kyle or David.

Hazel saw the nudge, knew the play was one of wishing to be recognized, she suggested I ask him his name. I did as suggested, saying, “David?”

Brother David exploded with joy, he knew me as I knew then of him. He charged at me forgetting his new bulk and stature. I jumped up two levels on the corral fence to get out of his away and wanting not to get stepped on by a brother weighing in at near a thousand pounds.

My move to keep away stopped him up short, he braying as if anxious and wondering why I was not acting with an affectionate manner.

Hazel laughed at the scene, reminding David he was not my old brother anymore, but an equal to a two year old Andalusian Donkey.

The reminding made Dave take a half step backwards, lowering his great head to where those thick lips came quite near the ground. He stood like that, nearly motionless except for his breathing, it made me think he felt some sense of embarrassment.

David turned finally and would have slowly walked to the other end of that corral, but I called his name once more. He lifted his head, looking me in the eyes, and made a muffled half bray.

I stepped down off the fence, walking with open arms to greet and give his mighty neck a brotherly hug. No sooner were we acting like two brothers meeting for the first time from a long parting, than Kyle bolted from the other end of the corral; he prancing over, eagerly wishing to feel some friendship.

Hazel spoke to David informing him his services were required elsewhere. She had made an appointment dealing with his mighty ability at breeding mares or jennets. Motioning him to come to the gate, she made mention the truck would return soon, and when it did he was to go with her to another farm for a couple of days.

Hearing this I whirled around, feeling some reasonable disgust she would treat my brother as if he was to remain forever a stud animal.

Hazel is a very understanding person, as she saw my reaction of indignation to her telling David to come. As I walked to the fence wishing to give my speech on what David was going to do and where he would go; she just shook her head as if to say, “No.”

David brayed softly several times, his tail flicking and ears turning with an eagerness to be near to me. I returned to his side, taking to petting his hairy face, the velvet soft muzzle, and scrubbed his forehead, as one would do to a pet donkey.

Obviously, my brother was thrilled at seeing me again, and showing his delight I received a slick lick up along the side of my face. His large flat tongue thick coated in greenish colored saliva as if he had recently eaten some alfalfa or green hay.

Hazel suspected by David doing what he did to my face, that my coming had helped instill some past memories. No doubt, as with this new realization of himself, he stood there making mental comparisons between being human and his life as a virile stud.

She mentioned of watching David with interest, as he took to accepting his situation with natural maturity. Telling too, of how he had an understanding of what was expected of him, he discovering a sense of satisfaction and or joy from his lifestyle. Her telling of how David is quite a gentleman when mounting, trying his utmost to be affectionate, and wish not to cause the female any injury. He would be somewhat frantic, if not plain eager this was a natural response, for a stud to feel when coming near a female having her time of estrus.

I listened as did David and Kyle, both becoming aroused hearing and yet able to understand what Hazel explained of a stud doing his job mating females. The both of them were soon breathing in a harsh manner, almost barking out each exhaled breath; as if in practice for the real thing.

When Hazel began to describe how a stallion stud gets his pelvic region working in a rhythm, I felt something damp slap my legs.

I yelled in surprise something like, “Yuck, as David getting into the well remembered part of Hazel telling her story caused him to masturbate. As to what I felt was, of his thick semen and a near fire hose shooting out white cum and globs that reminded me of Tapioca pearls in our pudding back home.

I turned toward Hazel, she smiling, reminded me that both David and Kyle were more likely to react to any simulation in a sexual manner. My face must have told my disgust and moral thinking, because she suggested then I come with her into that large white house.

My knees began to shake as I felt a sense of apprehension for just being a follower, entering her house I might soon find a lifetime employment on her farm. My fear and suspicion of her had quelled all those whimsical ideas about becoming an animal myself; seeing Ron, David and Kyle was enough to bring me back to thinking and reasoning.

Instead, Hazel seeing my apprehension to follow along behind her willingly, to this she apologized, wishing to have me stay for a time and be with my brother and friends. She told me not to fret or worry, unlike those sisters she was not of their cult, but just a good woman owning a farm!

Hazel knew a good deal when she saw it. Those she saved became animals according to their body language, any immoral habit, or a remark about having some sort of pet, all stemming from whatever imagined fantasy one of the sisters suggested that person reminded them of an animal.

Making mention of those that were presently at her farm, Hazel pointed to a pair of dappled gray and black Thoroughbred stallions, both astride the other, seemingly at play. As Edna told Hazel, the two were a pair of Lesbians Marla brought to the apartment one night when she could not allure herself to any man along the street.

The two women acted quite bold and very brash, making comments suggesting they would of rather had been born as men. This seemed to insight Edna, when she said something to make the two women angry. A fitful skirmish ensued the end result was the sisters gained the upper hand.

Since that near Christmas holiday weekend Hazel was the owner of two stallions who loved to mate between themselves; or at the height of sexual frustration, either might mount a mare just for a change.

As my friend Ron seemed so bold, the sisters thought his proper sentence was becoming a Black Angus bull.

I piped up, stating it was Ron who in his fit of change did voice a request he become a black bull. This surprised Hazel; she knew the strength the sisters had over men as they changed.

Hazel pointed toward the far barn, making note that Ron retained his wits except when he would be feeling lust for and during his breeding with cows. She did note his personal sorrow that of those given the same mental attitude, they after mounting and thrusting their sensual shaft into the rear of a cow agonized about the deed. The human sociological morays remained fully intact and caused remorse when realized of the bestial behavior.

I was near astonished hearing that over more than ten years the sisters had sold to Hazel dozens of animals that were men, and even a few deserving women. Yet, for as many she saved from a misbegotten future, the sisters kept some for special if personal usage.

As we walked to her house she told of another situation, where a man was approached baiting Marla, walked her to the apartment, and then tried to rape her in the upstairs hallway.

The man awoke strung up by his forepaws from ropes attached to steel rings the sisters drilled into their living room ceiling. Marla went about abusing the rapist, he changing into a giant size of Mastiff dog. Edna told in exact detail how Marla taunted the poor man sexually, while talking and telling him he would be her sex toy for some time to come.

Hazel saw the dog, offering the sisters a goodly sum but Marla had her own plans for him. She had personally reworked the prime spell, causing the doggy size of penis to grow much longer and the girth to expand once he had entered Marla’s vagina.

Edna grumbled about how Marla kept the dog for her own sexual fantasies. As the two made a sort of bestial love, the moaning and barking became quite annoying to the other sisters in the apartment.

Marla was the bait to lure men to their ultimate and permanent demise.

Hazel said that Marla boasted often, keeping a loge of names and dates when she allured men, young or old, gay or straight, it did not matter to her.

As of those fortunate enough to get sold to Hazel, the bulk were placed into some breeding stud farm. Horse, donkeys, goats, rams, boar hogs, bulls, cows, an occasional bear or ape, most were men, some lurid women, and a few elderly men the sisters unknowingly rejuvenated by their spell, making these into the most aroused breeding animals she had seen, ever! Masculinity was what the sisters hated, as if they wished they were born male, but not so, the turned their anger at all who were male. Age mattered not, whether young or old, most being changed were young men, but a few changed, arrived at the farm being so young she new the sisters did their evil on a spited youngster.

Those so young they had not the years of education and awareness of life, once changed, they became as if ignorant animals in whatever breed or species the sisters whim felt proper. She pointed to a pen, remarking that since they arrived two years hence, there were two pigs, matured boars, brothers’ maybe, but purely pigs in body and of mind.

She apologized for what the Sisters did to my brother David, Kyle, and my very best friend, Ron. Her words seemed as if she would offer them some form of help as if to regain their humanity, but it was not to be; she like myself, was just another weak human.

My face told Hazel of my own misgivings for her as being a willing partner to the Sisters. In as much she understood my feelings she also tried to make amends. As one might remember the famous movie of a godfather, Hazel made me an offer she expected I could or would dare not refuse.

As my brother was then a Donkey stud, there was not a thing Hazel or I could do to change him back to being a human. Now if I wished to be always near him, she would inform the sisters of a friendly convert. Me being willingly ready to give up my humanity, degrading me to be a Donkey stud, as is my dear brother, David.

To her unbelievable offer I said a flat and harsh, “No thanks!"

Hazel jumped at my reply, expecting me to jump at a simple life, me living as does a donkey.

I replied to her, announcing that David and I were brothers, but now we were quite different. As brothers, we shared each those things we found as mutual fun. My opinion of him had changed with his delighted decision to live and enjoy living as a filthy stud animal dishonoring himself and his family!

David let loose a ragged sounding bray as if to agree to my opinions. His reaction made me jump out of my skin, as Hazel split, laughing at a foolish young man, and one sex minded Donkey. It was then she asked for my name, wanting to be on a more personal basis when we conversed.

After a refreshing shower and breakfast, Hazel took me for a long walk about her stud farm. Pens and corrals, stalls, and even some poor bastards locked into cages. The list of different animals went from farm critters to wild beasts set for shipment to zoos around the country.

I met many who knew of what they were, some seemingly as thrilled about their predicament, as were Ron or David. Those who found their new body as something special and or delightful, reacted as had David when he became aroused.

We talked about the easy lives her animals lived, doing what came as natural to their proper genders, often would she watched those placed there slip the surly bonds of being human, as if caught in a rapture of beastly animal delight.

The tour done, Hazel suggested I could be near Kyle, Dave shipped out by truck would return in a few days, likely tired. Hazel was rather adamant I keep my distance from Ron.

Hazel had some further words of advice, she knew all about animals, and what could be worse, were people changed into animals, she warning me said, "Never trust any bull! The worst enemy to your person is a bull made by magic. They forget their new mass and act like would a pet. The bulk weight and muscle strength is ten times at the least of a grown strong man. Ron being a friend will think of you as if a friend and with what he is now will want to play. He might hurt you, or even kill you without knowing he was doing it until it was done.

I try to bring those changed to a new home by transporting them in as calm a manner as is possible. They usually ride along well, some get nervous and urinate excessively, I note that when cars following me on the highway tend to back off from following to close, urine tends to spray and stinks.

When I get them to the farm I try talking with them, most still retain much of their human intellect, it tends to deplete with time and after they begin to avidly delight with breeding of females. They all go first to the barn, remaining there for a few days or as much as a month, this mattering one their ability to accept a body made for living life as bestial.

David went quickly to the pasture, as seeming shall Ron too. He appears to be as almost enjoying his being now a bull. This masculine demeanor suggested of Ron being a womanizer when as a man. He likes to sniff the air, breathing in the scent of cows, a good sign that he desires to begin his mounting and breeding sessions with cows.

He and likewise the others here get placed in an electrically fenced pasture, Ron with other cattle, cows mostly but a few steers for company or as sparing practice. It is important to show those so changed the fencing and of what will happen if they touch it. All the animals learn to respect the electric fence wires, they give quite a jolt if touched at the moment the capacitor discharge sends its voltage out on the wire.

I like to keep the changeling animals away from the true born animals, especially if they be healthy males not castrated.”

I knew that Ron was wise to the ways of women, he spoke often of the typical attitudes they portrayed and how unlike men who think logically, women do things because of emotions, he having often told of his nightly conquests.

My wandering about the farm led me to thinking about David and they who were as equal friends. If what Hazel said were true, the three of them and like so many others who the sisters changed, they all were now animals and their change could only be remedied by the three sisters. The facts were slowly sinking into my generally logical mind. While walked around and saw those who Hazel mentioned were people not so long ago, they all had one thing in common. Each in their own way had turned from wanting to return back and be human, as if they knew the change were permanent, or that from being so transformed their intellect was degrading day by day.

I pondered about Ron, even as his physical changes were culminating when standing before the sisters in her apartment; he winked at me as if what was happening were enjoyable. As what Hazel said must then be quite true, Ron was and remains as an ego or lust driven womanizer. His worst human traits become free of social morals once he was in the bodily form of an animal.

* * * * *

Chapter III: Learning What Is Bull

Qualms in my gut for Ron as he is doing what he spoke about liking best, and shows less concern now as to what people think of manners of cow womanizing acts. He simply turns his tail to those who would think he acts beastly, because they see only a brute beast being what they would expect from any animal.

The sun was near overhead when I sat atop a corral fence blindly ignoring a small herd of goats milling about below my feet. I was thinking and pondering what I should or could do next if anything, it all seemed so impossible!

Sitting on that fence I stopped my wondering when hearing a wimpy little voice that called for me to look. Twisting and turning my head I saw only the two dozen or so corrals and the adjoining barns and the main house. Even as I stood bracing my stance upon that fence, those who had some wits yet and were of course as animals, all stopped what they were doing to see what might be happening.

The petite voice called to me again several times, as before looking down I saw a husky goat standing in the corral there before me. He was a well gifted male goat, he had his head tilted up high and ogled at me with his square blue and yellow peeper.

I responded with a simple, “Yes,” making me sound as if I were asking a question replying to him.

Needless to say I was stunned as this goat began to move its lips and from such an inhuman form of mouth it spoke intelligible words. As it saw I was listening, the goat raised itself up and stood almost upright as it held on the fence rails with two stout and strong forelegs.

His name according to what he said was once Benjamin. He had met Marla during his time in the city. He was once a novice reporter interviewing people as to writing a story about the number of missing people, as the numbers were higher in that college town.

I was a bit surprised how well the goat could speak, he I think saw my surprised and wondering looks. To this he stopped his story and told how when a youth he had learn the art of ventriloquism, using his throat to sound out words, rather than relying upon his lips.

Fortunate for him and me this interesting ability had carried over to him becoming a goat.

I felt some inner sense of reassurance he was friendly. A bit too trusting, I thought then to step down off the fence and sit inside the corral, meanwhile listening to him speak and tell of what was his situation.

Benjamin stood down and then as I sat on the dusty ground in his corral, he nestled his butt to sit directly before me. We then talked, me telling of Ron coming with me, or I with him, we were trying to find my brother David. As had Ben and so many others David had met the sisters, and they did their evil ways to make him disappear from the rolls of humanity.

Ben mentioned that he thought Marla to be some voluptuous woman, she acting like some lusty whore, offering him a night he would never forget. He told me of his going to her apartment and there how surprised he was when entering inside, he met her two older sisters. His first inkling was the three were some sex triangle, and he would be molested sexually by all three, and for a wild night of male enjoyments.

When Edna became insistent he strip and stand on that living room pedestal; he got angry, telling Marla how no matter what she promised, he was not one to be goaded’ into anything he did not want to do!

To his statement the sisters began to laugh. He soon discovered the reason for their humor when even against his own will they forced him to undress and stand upon that pedestal. His worst fears were to be realized, expecting the sisters were into mind control and bondage, as they turned his wordings into reality and fact. As he would not be “Goaded” into anything, they made of him a homonym, as goading him to become then a goat! They thought their tweaking his wording as quite funny, laughing as each took their turn spellbinding him more and further into him becoming as he was there seated before me.

Marla was all for keeping him as a male big goat; she wanting him as her sex pet.

He said as he felt his body changing, he would turn his head and tilting it, and telling me in detail of how it felt.

I sat there mesmerized and drinking in every sordid detail. Some of what I heard linked properly to what I saw Ron going through, he never showing any indignation, but straining out words, he did plead and ask the Sisters to make of him to be a Bull.

As the human body transitioned and transformed he said his mind was overwhelmed by the sensations of sensual feelings. The spouting of hair upon his body was the worst and the nicest sensation. Ben had to stop his talking and stood up to let a shivering wiggle run from his head to his tail.

He said that other than when he grew a tail the way he felt becoming covered in body hair was something he found nice about transforming into being as an animal.

A few nanny goats came close as we talked. They lip nibbling at his ears, and one mouth taunting his sheath, she licking his sheath made him jerk and bleating wildly, he charged at them and drove them off.

Sounding off of his disgust over nanny goats constantly wanting him to be sexual and sensual, the want for the excitement for mating with them had worn thin. He motioned to his sheath, making verbal note of how after mounting and mating those nanny goats with leathery tough their vulva, his penis though red and hot had worn a calloused spot on the tip.

Ben then did a body stretch, twisting his head and turning it right and left, as then lowered his horns directly at my chest. Seeing this made me get a little worried for my general safety. Time and the afternoon passed as I listened to Ben telling of a story that warranted it be written down and kept of all to read.

Twice during our talking Ben got up and without an excuse me, walked to the water trough for and drink. His returning to what was there for animals sent a ripple effect of arousals through his small herd of nanny goats, they crowding around him and urinating.

Once he had quenched his thirst, he had to near fight his way back to me as the female goats blocked his path. I watched, learning a lot about goat social order. The nanny goats stood offering Ben to mount them, their constant squirting of urine being as if some scent for to force him into wanting to mate.

On his second time for quenching his thirst he did become aroused, gaining a stout erection, grinned oddly, and mounted one of the lusty nanny goats, she almost as large as was Ben.

Bleating harshly, he rutted the nanny, shivered as he climaxed, stepped off from her, and without as much as a hello again, he mounted once more, rutting wildly. Five times he dropped off and quickly mounted the nanny each time more. Finally he seemed as sated and left her bleating for more, he walked rather stiff legged back to where I sat.

The insulted nanny goat bleated her disdain of him preferring to talk to me rather than play with her. Her pleading bleats were soon chimed with other nanny goats, as if all were so horny, they needed Ben to help them keep from going insane.

Ben stood before me shaking his hind legs, one at a time. He was trying to control his own urges, as what he mentioned, being as this was his eighth year as a stud buck goat.

I listened to him but my eyes were captivated by the redness and virtual size of his male goat penis. The thing was red as a beet, stuck out a foot long, looking as rigid as a steel reinforcing rod, but the size of a school pencil at where it protruded from the sheath. So narrow its length, coming to a near lop sided point that appeared to have its very end toughened by a coarse callused piece of skin.

Ben went on talking of his sensual sensations as the sisters changed him into a lusty minded male goat. Yet his erection did not soften or recede back into his shaggy sheath, but stood out stiff and occasionally would wag front to rear. He kept crowding closer to me, bringing his hot red shaft ever nearer, as if offering it for my touch or when he mounted the fence again, his shaft almost hit me in the face.

The stern voice of Hazel telling me to come out of the corral as a supper was prepared for me before I should leave the farm. As I pushed myself to stand up, Ben made his move, turning and with a hard pelvic thrust he nearly jammed his red shaft inside my half opened mouth.

His sexual action scared me, and I bent backwards, luckily falling backward through the metal rails of the corral fence, landing on my back before Hazel.

Hazel helped me get up and dusted me off, as Ben stood bleating like holy hell.

Feeling a bit disturbed by what Ben obviously tried to do, I said not a word of good bye, but walked with Hazel toward the main house.

Hazel took that bit of time to give me the real story Ben did not portray. He told me of him being in town checking on a story; but actually he was a burglar, having broken into the sisters apartment and got caught. A drug addict looking for funds to continue an expensive habit, Ben thought that three women were not his match.

Hazel said that Edna told a different story, they did argue and he cursed them saying he would not be goaded or detoured from finding money to get what he so badly had a need.

Marla being slightly too Blonde mentally, was gullible, thought he was of want to have money for to buy sex. It was with her getting the spell book and suggesting that to be goaded, he, Ben could instead be better Goat like, the other two chimed in and Ben soon then stood on the pedestal, screaming!

Once Ben became a goat his first month was a living hell of drug addiction induced hallucinations, cold sweats, screaming fits, and when placed with those forty nanny goats, he turned to mating them as if out of his mind. Night and all day, every day for what was two months more Ben rarely ate, but stood mounted, humping savagely, until his body and testicles were cleaned of the drugs that got him there in the first place.

He then turned devilish, using his ventriloquism talent to allure female humans to try and help him escape. Hazel told it as what I remembered from my long afternoon with Ben, me listening to his yarn.

Ben was spelled with an infectious sort of a transformation, this meaning that most of those forty nanny goats in his corral became prey to his sexual advances. Like when he stood by me and was so wildly erect and aroused, he did the same for those female humans; some giving him sex, others sucking him dry. The sexual acts caused the spell on Ben to transfer, changing his would be lovers into lusty minded nanny goats for him to molest, constantly!

It was of that reason Hazel did not sell him least some farm family would lose all their people to being goats.

Hazel told me that the sisters did what they did to men mostly, but being they only had want for sexual pleasuring and bondage things, they had not studied their Mother’s books and writings. As Hazel tells it, those who the sisters deem to be allowed of keeping their human wits and rational thinking, were changed more than in physical form. The spell turned each animal into being as if they were immortal, living life way beyond normal bestial limits.

Telling of Ben who having had a fight for rights to rut with another real born male goat, he was gored through the heart and recovered to fight again, two days later.

The only way such an animal could actually die was when sold for slaughter and those as cows met the saw blade which cut away their head from its animal body. Otherwise, if turned upside down and killed by kosher means, they would recover their life shortly after being claimed as dead, and ready for disemboweling.

I stopped and looked back at the corrals, saying to Hazel how if she had not come at that instant, I might right then be changing into a buck stud goat myself!

Hazel responded sharply, informing me that of those who sucked being as men with having oral sex on Ben, they lost their humanity and changed gender becoming for him as horny nanny goats for his good pleasure. At me hearing that I looked down and tried to imagine what it might be like to have an udder and teats.

I stood horrified at the thought of just how dangerous those in the corrals might be to an unsuspecting fool like me.

While eating my supper that Hazel fixed, she an excellent cook, but my mind was mulling over me feeling quite foolish. Ben had me believing his goat shit story, and I mesmerized to the point he almost infected me had I succumbed to doing what I was thinking about of me wanting to suck on his red shaft. The thought of doing such was never once in my mind until Ben got me feeling aroused and sentimental. Granted, I was feeling a little horny, and seeing his perked shaft, he put it before me for just such a reason.

Hazel broke the silence asking me what I wanted to do next. Wondering if I wished for her to drive me back into the city, pickup Ron’s SUV, and go back home. She had another thought which was something that struck me as unthinkable. However, after considering my options, what she suggested almost seemed a better way to go.

My options were limited by the problem of the truck keys were burned up in the fireplace along of what Ron wore and had in his pockets. If I called a key specialist, have the truck re-keyed, and then drove home, what do I tell my mother, how could I explain where was Ron or my whereabouts for these past few weeks being as well unaccounted for; it was one huge travesty!

Hazel suggested a far different course of action, she having walked me about her farm took note which different animals I felt some attraction to be near. She knowing those under her care for some were still able to think and reason, had commented in their own way of desiring me as long term company; some preferring female company and others just another male like unto themselves.

Again she had proposed my easy way out from me trying to explain the unexplainable truths about David, and then Ron; it would be simpler for me if I were to join them!

Her suggestion of what if asked when watching Ron change I would willingly have agreed and been there on the farm as another bull. Yet then, as I was eating my diner, what she proposed stopped my chewing. Hazel began talking to me about those most interested in my being party of body and mind, for me becoming some other male animal’s shy lover.

The thought of becoming an animal was not beyond my comprehension or that long remembered fantasy I held since my youth. Yet to be changed of gender was not appealing at all, imagining first of what Ben would have made me, a horny nanny goat! Still I felt uncomfortable with becoming an animal permanently in form, and then changed of gender. It seemed horrible to me that at some soon time and have then allowed the Sister their fun with me. I being then female would find it delightful for some male animal to mount and screwed me cross eyed, no, no way!

Yet, the thought of becoming as some male animal and cohort equality with a friend, while me remaining male did have some appealing possibilities.

Hazel told me of a Dartmoor pony stallion that wanted another pony as his partner and friend. According to Hazel Kip Carson met one of the sisters while on-line in a chat room. She directed him to what he wanted to find, and copying a horny story from off the Internet. They made a date of it and met.

The story that led him to his physical and sexual demise had to do with some a young college man becoming scientific fodder. An unscrupulous college professor injected the young man with an experimental serum, it causing him to transform into a sexually excited Dartmoor pony stallion used for stud.

Marla appealed to Kip and he was receptive to their meeting. She discovered Kip was easily aroused, and when in the apartment he became spellbound, did willingly undress and told of how he wished he could live the fantasy story like the character transformed. His own sexual delights foretold of what the sisters did to him, leaving him his rational mind to know and remember, while thinking he would go insane being and living as a beast; their assumption turned out to be quite wrong.

Kip, so enjoyed the sexual ramifications of that story he found being a Dartmoor stallion pony used as a stud animal was equal to his wildest dream.

Hazel got up and retrieved a large ledger book from her desk. Opening it, she pointed to a page titled Kip Carson, showing the date he arrived, and below that the names, breeds, and listing of mares he bred while residing at the farm and working was would a stud.

I read down the long three column list. It had by that day and date totaled his successful breeding to the remarkable amount of 527 mares to date!

Again, according to Hazel and her book, Kip was one of the first she purchased, near to ten years back. I thought for a second, my mind working on the figure he had bred, divided by the ten years, Kip stood as stud 52 plus times per each year he was a pony, “Wow!”

Hazel saw me thinking, she reasoned I was totaling the numbers, as she then reminded me a mare does not become pregnant from one covering, sometimes Kip had to mount and mate three or up to six times with a mare.

Stunned at the thought, I put my hand to my moth as in showing my utter surprise. Then in a youthful moment I blurted out the calculation figure, saying that Kip had to f… so much, when did he have time to eat, drink, or sleep?

Hazel burst out laughing, as I tried to excuse my terse usage of the slang potion of our English language.

Explaining of Kip and his request, he was growing tired of continual breeding sessions, and was of wanting a duplicate partner to help carry the load. Hazel had seen me eying Kip; appreciating his slender physical body was the soul of perfection and conformation to make a pony stallion become a true champion.

As if an easy out from my troubles, joining Kip and being a prized pony stallion and one handsome stud, all seemed so impossible. I quickly agreed to what Hazel proposed, she going to the phone and making some primary arrangements with one of the sisters.

Meanwhile, me sitting, began thinking of what such a change meant then to me. I had some second pondering thoughts, of my mother, and those I had a care for back at home. The disappearance of David was terrible enough for mom, she likely already crying and worried constantly. She felt some hope when Ron offered to drive me to check things out, and we reporting back, which we never had the chance to do.

I shivered from the thought of standing before those sisters, they thinking my transforming into a pony stallion to be something delightful from a perverted wish of a coward to hide from the reality of truth.

That odd thought of theirs had bothered me some and after asking the question to Hazel, I was informed of another misconception of those vile three sisters. They enjoyed the idea of inflicting pain and agony on men in general. Their pagan cult allowed some males to retain their human memories, and rational thinking minds. This human ability was cause for those lucky few to become immortal, or gaining a much increased lifespan. If those men could adapt to find their living as animals to be somehow pleasurable, they likely would learn to enjoy life again, if from a very different sort of perspectives.

According again to Hazel, those that retained their mental prowess and could not cope, went mad! The long drawn out times of nothing to do but listen to their guts grumble of what they needed to eat was driving them to distraction. Sexual sensations, instinctive urges, bestial manners of mating, realizing odors and scents to be stimuli for them to act as do beasts, all were as insults upon their very self. Bit by bit they moved beyond that line of being human mentally, allowing their thoughts to degrade, forgetting of human ways, hygiene practices, and ultimately turned into vile and angry animals that had little worth. The loss of their mental faculties did them an added injustice, as they lost out on being nearly immortal, aging quickly, and dying a year or so after coming to Hazel’s farm.

Hazel gave me a place to sleep and time to think over a long night filled with sleepless wondering. The night offered a space of time between my being temporarily returned to the city, there meeting all three sisters and coming under a life changing spell.

I thought and felt that Hazel had my better interests at heart, for if she were a diabolic toward men as were the sisters, she might have left me to Ben that afternoon and gain another nanny goat in the process. Yet she deposed his plan to make as one of his sex toy nanny goats, and even earlier in the day warning me, that is about Ron and his situation were I might get injured if getting too close.

Therefore, I felt a sense of trust of this tough middle-aged woman. I lay there on that upstairs bed, chuckling some as seeing Hazel. She stood about 5’4” tall, wearing bib overalls, army boots, and even in the summery heat, a flannel plaid shirt with long sleeves. I thought it odd she would dress in this way, as if keeping her entire body covered and maybe with the idea she could become infected having to handle some of her beastly friends.

I shook thinking about her and why she does what she did; my real problem was trying to decide which way I should turn come the morning.

One way to go was with Hazel and under her protection, returning to visit the sisters, and they then working their spell book power upon me.

There was this growing apprehension to giving up my present lifestyle, only to become as some naked and hairy animal, and my only real reason for living was to stand at stud. The secondary reason was maybe as much the true problem, as that if I returned home and had to explain that three young men were never coming home again. The impossible story I would need to weave, coupled with my generally poor memory, for this suggested my return home would end up in some humiliating embarrassment.

About one in the morning I heard Hazel come from her bedroom, walk down the long upstairs hall, and enter the one bathroom.

I sat up on the side of my bed, the window stood open and I could here the sounds of some animals moving around in their corrals. As I sat there listening closely, in the mix of sounds I depicted some suggesting a few of the horniest critters were even in the night going at their insatiable desire to mate, breed, and enjoy the sensation of having sex.

Suddenly I wanted to talk with Hazel about me becoming a pony stallion. As she was awake and still in the upstairs bathroom, I thought it a good time to disturb her sleep with a question.

Jumping to my feet I stepped quickly to the bedroom door, opening it at the same instant when Hazel was exiting the bathroom. In the split second I stood in the doorway, Hazel stood in the bathroom doorway, she hesitating, and then turned out the bathroom light.

I let out a surprised gasp, this sound making Hazel turn my way and before she snapped off the bathroom light her pleasant facial expression turned to a scowl.

She had a good reason to scowl, the light behind her allowed the view of her bodily silhouette draped with a covering of some thin, white nightgown.

As within that short moment I got an eye full, and Hazel knew I did, she scowling and verbally showing her disdain. Her reason for such was imprinted into my brain from seeing that strange silhouette. I saw her in a new light, and from it knew her true reason for remaining and running her stud farm. Her partnership with the sisters had warranted she make a promise never to inform anyone in authority of where and how she came to own so many exception and varied species of animals.

In my split second of seeing her I saw why she could come and go without the sisters feeling any worry. As Hazel allowed all to see her head and hands, everything else of her body was covered in baggy clothing that could hide her personal guarantee. Under her night gown was a womanly body but covered with jagged scales of a modern time Harpy.

Her scales showed well from her silhouette, as she turned to flick off the light I caught a glimpse of a short tail, and saw her feet, they being scaled and armed with talons. As from her raised arm I saw too, she had what looked like bat wings folded down over her back.

As she stood and scowled at me her eyes glowed then in the dankly lighted hallway. Hazel sighed, and then she to my amazement let drop to the floor her nightgown. I stood awestruck, having never seen such a creature in the flesh and truly alive.

She reached out and took my hand, walking me toward her bedroom.

Stunned out of my wits I went along, although her steel fingered grip was not likely of letting me go.

Once inside her private chamber she turned and with her glowing red and yellow encircled eyes, took to staring at me, her mind reaching out, cutting deep as her thoughts sought out my own.

She knew of my fear, not just of her right then, but of becoming one of her animals. Her powerful mind became as if a pleasured and friendly encounter, she quelling my fears and in as much, she reassured me of a long life filled with much pleasure.

After she released my mind from her mental grip, I sighed, and had the chance to ask about what was standing before me.

Hazel said she was actually part Harpy and having some attributes of being a Dragon, while retaining her human head, hands and lifestyle. She had to give the sisters some guarantee of her allegiance. As if her physical form were the one skeleton of her own family closet, granting her great mental powers, while leaving her saddened and lonely.

Her mental powers I fully understood and if she be lonely I thought it reasonable considering her form. However her personal tribulations ran deeper as when Hazel first met the Sisters, she being as happily married for twenty some years to a nice and very considerate man. As from her dealings with the Sisters, they forced her to become as she stood before me, while she acting as if as horny for sexual pleasure like those she took under her care.

When I asked of her husband the dark scowl returned, as if my question struck at some dark problem in her life.

Hazel grabbed my wrist and walking quickly out of her bedroom, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room, into the kitchen, she opened the door leading again down a set of stair steps to the basement.

As we stood at the foot of the basement stairs it was pitch black, but I heard the sound of something breathing heavily.

At the moment when Hazel snapped on a light she burst into tears.

I took a step back, there locked into a steel bar cage stood her husband. As if she could not or dared not allow him out and be seen in public, Hazel kept him safe and for her occasional lust driven need.

In the light of a hundred watt bulb stood what could only be called a monster and Minotaur. Standing with his head snug to the floor joists supporting the floor above, his huge bovine bull head reminded me of Ron, except this guy had horns.

He stood muscular and massive, as Ron he was blacker than the ace of spades. Having a human chest and torso coated over with black hide and hairs of a bull, he looked huge in size, seemingly stronger than even Ron. His waist, rump, and legs were all bovine, giving him a huge sheath like a bull it attached to his mid section.

As Hazel stepped close to the bars her Minotaur husband sprouted an erection, jutting past the cage bars, straining to come into contact with his loving wife.

She reciprocated, pressing her scaled body close, allowing him to direct his red shaft into her, grabbing her into a hug as juices flowed. Their pleasuring lasted for some time, neither making a sound, just entangled in a strange manner of safe sex.

When after some time together they parted, the Minotaur turned his back toward Hazel and began jacking his huge and hairy hands up and down that two foot long shaft. I watched from one side, seeing as this Minotaur milked himself dry, sighing when he felt sated.

I turned from watching the Minotaur husband to see Hazel leaning against a floor joist support post, her scaled arms folded as if clutching her aching stomach. I then spouted my thoughts saying then, “Sex, sex, sex, all and everything that is touched by those damned sisters is turned into something bestial lust for having beast like sex, why?”

Hearing my probing question, Hazel scrambled up the stairs, charging all the way to her bedroom, and slammed the door with a mighty bang.

I also headed for the stairs but stopped when in a deep baritone voice the Minotaur spoke.

Although his head was completely that of a bull and had lips and mouth like a bovine, he moved his mouth with a rather less than natural movement, speaking well his intelligible words.

Harold, he said was his name, remained as a loving husband fully realizing why his dear wife kept him locked in a cage down under their spacious farm home. He stood inside his cage, eyes blinking, a mouth speaking, but having still the same inclination toward things sensual.

I took notice how as he spoke his hairy clawed fingers played and twisted a very large bovine bullish sheath. He did this with an almost unconscious action, stopping on the occasion when his fondling fumbled, and a knot formed in the long feeler hairs that extended from the open end of his sheath. Seeing his own folly he would turn away, fixing the knots, and then facing me as he wove his story about the sisters coming to their farm.

The three sisters knew of Hazel but did not expect to see her as a happily married woman and wife. It was when they became aroused and ready to do him their absolute worst, making his wife beg he become only then partially a beast.

Edna did the honors, remembering the spell well as she had used it many a time when taking her loving suitors and showing them what she thought of their intentions. As she had some perverted love for men becoming bovine, her dislike for Hazel turned Harold into a Minotaur, but leaving him human minded, loving, and well able to keep his wife content.

At first he stayed out of sight during the daylight hours, coming out in the dark to breed as is proper he being then a kin to other bovines. All worked well until by chance he was seen by a visiting college student doing some graduated work in animal husbandry.

Harold remembered her from their meeting before he became a monster. In his remembrance of her chosen profession taunted him. He snorted, leaving the cow he was then servicing, chasing her and when wrapped in his arms he fed the juices of his mighty testicles into her virgin body.

His hot and sexual molesting manner enticed the student to continue the rest of that night, returning nightly to long and lengthy sessions as Harold drove in the point of his bestial lusty desires.

Ultimately Hazel discovered her Minotaur husband was being more than unfaithful by mating cows, replacing his dear needy wife with a younger woman that had no sharp scales.

Harold then answered my question why everything that bordered those evil minded sisters was entangled with sex, sex, and more things of sex!

The sisters of Circe followed their idol in hating men for being physically endowed to keep a women thrilled when she feels a need. This ability is quite a natural course of action as animals do it to reproduce their respected species. As Circe hated men for being unfaithful as are boars and sows, she delighted in changing visitors that would dare set foot upon her island.

Knowing of the natural necessity for having male and female to continue the growth of numbers within any species, she would change some men into boars and more becoming as sows. Her pleasure coming from those she changed by seeing them cope with their new station in life. To become a pig is terrible, being a man changed into a groveling boar, wallowing in sty mire, and rooting one’s nose in the dirt to find and eat worms and grubs is not like eating a good steak diner.

Those she changed into pigs and sows found themselves feeling disgust and a sense of disgrace. Tough enough of any who were changed into swine, but having once been as a man and having mated with human women; those Circe deemed to be sows found the sensation of a fellow pig and boar mounting as something so indignant they often offered their body for slaughter.

Terror, horror, and humiliation to the very root of one’s self, was the curse Circe desired for all men. The sister have carried this to a new level, changing men, selling them as animals to make their livelihood, and some they think are worse off by spending their life here at the farm breeding and feeling disgraced.

Hazel and Harold met some of those the sisters changed when residing in other towns and cities, moving when the local newspapers began to investigate the numbers of missing and runaways.

He said that Edna was the controlling sister, governing their activities, placing a limit upon her two sisters, as they would not dehumanize any male children, but kept to those men who had reached some age of legal maturity. It was those fellows that when falling under Marla as one of her mates found their tool changed to fit things usually bigger and having a lot more hair.

I told him of my situation, and the offer of me becoming a Dartmoor pony stallion and used as a prime stud.

To my surprise he tried hard to talk me out of giving myself as sensual fodder to the sisters.

Harold stood and modeled his beastly self in front of me, showing how the human is superior. His reasons were good but I prevailed, as my situation seemed intolerable, having no good excuse to report back to home. He said that what I was thinking bordered on considering something near to suicide.

He was right in his thinking, I did wish for never having to return home and be the bearer of such terrible and unbelievable news. In the same line of thought I wanted to bring the Sisters of Circe and their powers to a halt. I needed a plan, something to do before Hazel delivers me into their evil minded hands.

I bade Harold a good night, told him I would consider his suggestion, and then proceeded up the stairs to the kitchen above. Once in the kitchen I sat drinking some milk and eating a third of a box of graham crackers, a favorite treat of many years.

The thought of talking a walk and getting my mind more determined to go through with a beastly demise soon had me walking about between the many corrals.

Walking and thinking about what it would be like standing by the same time the next day I would be on all fours, a pony stallion. As I walked and gave consideration to what this would like, stopping to stand at the corral holding a beautiful pony stallion named Kip.

I took note of the name plate hung next to the gate of his corral. He stood in the dark, his big brown eyes seeing me quite well in the dim glow of several security lights that spread their beams in all directions. His seeing me come at night made the pony uneasy, prancing in place and snorting to show how my presence caused him some aggravation.

Seeing his obvious anxiety over me and what might be my intentions I spoke to him, wondering if he still retained any of his human rationale. After calling to him I announced Hazel’s plan for me to become his new partner, giving him time to relax from his exceptionally busy and wearing schedule of being a stud.

This seemed to quell his apprehensions, as he pranced to greet me in a more formal manner. I watched with some sense of admiration for this pony, he taking a fore hoof and making letters in the sand of his corral. He told in this way how my coming was told to him by Hazel. He looked forward to me coming and wanted to let me know some things about becoming an animal, pony, and stallion.

To his offer I began to speak telling of what I knew of ponies, stallions, and their ways of living life. I thought this better I tell of what I knew, saving him the writing in the sand, it taking much effort and time on his part.

He listened with an exceptional memory, stopping me on occasion and writing as then adding his two cents to my foolish inklings.

Kip scrawling using a fore hoof in the corral dust was able to write abbreviated words, and listed the uncomfortable side of being a pony such as, limited dexterity, no hands, the usual human things we take for granted become impossible when standing on all fours and having hoofs. He made me laugh at the depth he still could think, as his one disability and discomfort he used as an example tended to be quite profound.

According to Kip and his writing the second worst discomfort other than flies, was the fact that when he had a loose bowel movement, his manure reminded smeared by the tail, making him chapped and feeling pain, as he was unable to wipe his pony butt.

I had to agree that would be one inability of being a pony I had not given any consideration. Others that he wrote and made a list were of eating directly from off the ground. He told of when eating hay strewn on the ground in his corral, how without hands to gather his food he sometimes ingested sand, bugs, mice, and on occasion some of his own droppings. The accidental eating a mouse or the gobbling a dried road apple, were the two worst of the items he listed.

He told of the flies and in springtime, black nits, bugs that fly into his eyes, up his nostrils, fluttering about ears, rump and becoming a virtual insane bother as they lighted on his cock when it hung out erect.

He wrote a quote stating that ignorance was indeed bliss. His notation followed by a further thought, suggesting his life offered little accomplishment. It was this that seemed to anguish him more than all else he made mention. Kip thought his life as a pony stallion attained nothing! He was a good and faithful prime stud pony, mounting and mating mares; making Hazel money, the other owners pleased, and a mare feeling her estrus some relief for her sexual anxiety.

Otherwise, Kip stood, pranced, and did nothing that could give him pride and a sense of true accomplishment. He wrote that before becoming such a pony he worked as a carpenter; by chance revamping the apartment for those three sisters. When he finished all their preferred changes to the apartment, Marla was the first to ask him personal questions.

Once he had given them enough information, telling how he was unmarried as yet, not looking, and was considering moving to another town, they lighted down upon him, doing their tricks.

Kip stood and thought for a long period of time, then wrote of his thoughts when things began to happen.

I spent the entire night asking and reading aloud his comments about being and living as I would if going through with the plan of Hazel for me to join Kip as a pony.

Kip stood on that same pedestal, spellbound and unable to escape the Sisters diabolical plan. He felt fear of this unknown power that held him as their captive. The sexual taunting of Marla as she fondled his male genitals. The terror as he fought to remain human, seeing his male organs given to radical changes of color, contours, length, and bulk. He whimpered and strained to keep his human thoughts and memories alive. It was Marla that was his worst enemy, she exciting his enlarged shaft, jacking him off, spewing his semen all over their newly painted living room wall.

Edna told him when he would feel the need to masturbate, and with what he ejaculated; the volume of spewed semen reduced human semen. Whether he masturbated or mated the lack of human semen made the spell become more intense, and after four times or twice mating with mares his link to being human would be gone. It is the sexual hormones that changes the fate and reforms the body with a new permanence that even they with their books of knowledge know of no way to make what became an animal as again human.

He discovered Hazel to be friendly, considerate to his feelings, and was a help in his learning to adjust his way of thinking and living.

When I saw the sun gleaming bright red as in came over the eastern hills, a thought popped into my mind, a plan to stop this ongoing insanity. The sisters three must leave the apartment if only to purchase food and the normal necessities of life. My plan was to get an apartment across the street and watch them day and night. I had to learn their daily and weekly schedule before I dare to attempt entering the apartment and setting fire to their diabolical library. As once they were without their books of referral, the ability to spell men into their doom would soon wane and fade.

Hazel listened of my plan in general, and having heard my pondering and complaints she agreed to help and sponsor the drastic endeavor.

At the time I thought she was really on my side, but later she said things that brought the truth to bear. If my plan was a success her farm would soon suffer from the lack of exceptionally perfect specimens that the Sisters constantly produced.

To her way of thinking what I planned was right and proper, if not greatly moral; but if perchance I failed and discovered, the Sisters would make me an animal of their sensual whim. If that occurred I would be sold to Hazel and she could have yet another to help her farm keep her in the bucks. So win or lose Hazel would end up feeling good about the outcome, it was still for me the disturbing possibility that Hazel might turn on me, and then I would have to stand on the pedestal and turn for the Sisters and Hazel.

My time in this horror was short but for brother David and good friend Ron, for them time stopped once they were as animals. They and those as animals did not think of time and or have any concern for plans and a future. Their daily habits was all that any of them cared about, taking one day at a time and trying, if at all possible to find some sense of joy or sexual satisfaction to give them some reason to continue to want to live.

* * * * *

Chapter IV: The Arrangement

As from my years of learning about religion it bade me to thinking. What and if when with becoming as an animal, and not made ignorant, what then of hope? Life without personal meaning, no hope of knowing anything better than from continuing sexual pleasures what then is there a real satisfaction in life? The answer to this is direct and simple, continuing of the species, sex, sex, and all more sex until when from having too much of anything it becomes distasteful to self. Even bulls, boars, and stallion become weary wary of it as they grow older. The biblical writers told of such as the flowers of the valley they neither toil or put up stores, as plant or animal, but live for today the moment and do not concern themselves with the morrow.

As I sit thinking, I like to be near to David much to the time. David was a Jackass to me even before he happened upon meeting the sisters, and them bringing his jackass tendencies out into the open and a new reality for him. He disliked his being a Jackass early on, but he having felt the sensations changed his thoughts, clouded then with bestial pangs for things dealing of only wanting more sensations.

He knows me as family and does not relate us as anything sexual. That portion of his mindset keeps his sexual passion to a minimum, and he becomes at times melancholy with his enduring situation, maybe from listening to my verbal pondering. He and I were not very close being as brothers. This different again now from or as a part of his changed self. He stands near, cocking his long ears to listen as what his younger brother talks of things to do, of hope, and of having thoughts about the future. David does not think of his future, he has none, nothing but what the Sisters made of him, and that becoming bland with time.

From my short time being there on a working breeding farm and around Hazel, seeing those there who she purchased, it was taking a toll upon my morals. A changing me when sitting and talking with David there close, I get a thrill from watching him become aroused, his long Ass shaft coming into view as he listens. His life has become one of events and reaction, as much from me he responds in what is to him now a common reaction showing agreement, satisfaction, or joy.

Just the other day I sat at the water trough, David stand near by as I rambled verbally about my possibly becoming as a Dartmoor pony stallion, if I did as Hazel suggested. The reaction of David hearing how I might join him and the others, me as another virile pony, a playmate and used like the others for breeding purposes, was a real thrill. So enthused became David that his long, stout, black, mushroom dong headed shaft erupted with spewing a spray of cum juices in five spurts. A virtual Jackass load of semen shot out of him and all over his fore legs and splattering upon me.

What a sight to see him spew, I stopped talking and had an expression so disturbing to David that he turned around and galloped away. Erect and stepping along his black shaft slapped the outer side of those muscular thighs, flaying it wildly. If not for knowing he had by then mated with numerous mares, I would need think he felt some sense of embarrassed for what he had done.

That was an upsetting time, but to me it was a realization that my highly moralistic brother had not sunk to such a corrupt mindset as to cease from remembering of things human. His morality lived yet, as no stud animal would feel embarrassment over doing what David did and would do before anyone, not even a close relation like his younger brother.

There were other concerns too, a level of safety I felt when sleeping under the roof at Hazel’s spacious home, tends to keep me half alert and expecting trouble at any moment. As it happened I had helped Hazel one day, we put into storage some large rolls of cut hay and some weeds. It was for me a hot and tiring job, leaving me dozing off at the supper table, and going to bed early in the evening.

As I slept a dream kept coming to me. I saw and could almost feel things, seeing myself standing butt naked in the Sisters living room on their pedestal. There kneeling down was Priscilla, she being a sexy protégé of the sisters, worked mostly there at the farm. I dreamed she was toying with my changing maleness. I saw myself becoming that Dartmoor pony stallion, the one Hazel was suggested would be for me a haven from explaining what happened to David and Ron.

The dream felt so vivid that when Priscilla took my changed shaft into her mouth for to suck it, I awoke with a scream.

I tried to sit up but there was this lump in my groin that stopped me.

My scream was loud enough to get Hazel from out of bed and she scurrying along the upstairs hall to check on what was my problem.

The dream was what made me scream, but my real problem is what stopped me from sitting up in bed. I was stunned to think my penis had changed to that of a pony, even without the Sisters directly laying on me their vicious spell.

At that split second when Hazel burst into my bedroom, I flipped back the bed sheet and blanket to see hung on the end of my maleness, Priscilla, in the flesh; she having sneaked into the house and was having her lusty ways upon my body.

I sat there stunned to see her just as casual as could be, lift her head without dropping my penis from out her mouth. She gave a soothing look at me, then turning her head to look at then one exasperated Hazel; she jerking away from the joy of cock sucking did nearly rip my shaft off at the base.

Hazel being part a dragon had the arm muscles like a W.W. Wrestler. She took hold of Priscilla by the nape of her sweat suit neck and picked the woman right off the floor, as then holding her suspended in the air.

Priscilla said not a peep. She just stared calmly at Hazel waiting for whatever would happen next.

Half a dragon and female in her own tainted form, Hazel was the precise and properly moralistic motherly figure as she verbally ripped Miss Priscilla a new one! Prim and yet somewhat colloquially correct, her words flowed as if a motherly drill sergeant was informing a recruit of what was considered the correct method of entering another person’s home, and what then was considered as proper guest etiquette.

After a few moments of well chosen words, Hazel set Miss Priscilla back down on the floor.

Without so much as a word of discord, Priscilla turned to me and plopped down on the foot end of my bed. Then as she looked directly at my face, Priscilla said as to how she knew of what Hazel offered. She said too of her Sister Edna giving her full rein on exciting me to want more for my becoming a pony animal.

As I heard her explain what she knew I realized then what I thought was a secret to Hazel and me had included the sisters proper. There was a growing conspiracy to get and keep me aroused positively for soon transforming of me. Why there was such a rush seemed as well odd.

When Priscilla began telling me of what would happen if I were to agree and be then silenced; I looked at Hazel with a face that suggested she too had thoughts for me of betrayal.

The Sisters three speak often of how men are whore mongers and the wretched enemy of all women, but as of that night Priscilla proved to me that she was the truer essence of the word pervert. Why even while she spoke of how under her guidance, and while I would be transforming, she would care for me. Her care was something dark and vile as, as she talked, her hands reached out to again begin fondling of my penis, rolling around my testicles, toying, pulling, wishing it were longer, larger, and wholly bestial.

The more she talked of what her idea was for me being a pony, her idea of me as a stud, had me thinking of our plan as something disgusting. I was fast becoming turned off to the offering suggested by Hazel and admonished then by Priscilla, and in as much the suggestion as they said for me becoming as is a pony was a safe haven.

Her propositioning complete, I need not to answer then, as Priscilla just stood up, and thought then to walk out of my bedroom.

I watched as listened from my upstairs bedroom window, seeing as Hazel walking behind Priscilla when they exited her house. Hazel was really pissed, and kept talking loudly all along their walking to where when the door opened to her bright sun yellow Hummer-3.

Then Priscilla spoke back and offered Hazel the thought that her friendly harboring of me for the Sisters three might be rather traitorous as well. She kept finger jabbing at Hazel’s chest, reminding her that those who could make her half a dragon, could if wanted, add some extra items, giving a zoo one large Crocodile.

I was surprised that Hazel did not even flinch at the suggestion she could become a Crocodile.

More words of anger and disgust of Hazel upset with what Priscilla tried to do to me. As if to ignore that no-win argument, then she changed the subject and asked Hazel if she liked her new sassy looking car.

Priscilla began to talk like some car salesman, pointing out different options her vehicle had; and then mentioned it was a gift from some man. Charles was his name and accordingly, she saying he ceased to have any use for it, especially after his confronting the sisters as to the landlord planning hike higher their apartment rent.

She laughed with some horrid laugh, and tossing her hair and head like some wild filly, she mentioning the world was rid of another fool Realtor. The brash man went to check on the building, see its condition and take a picture of the front for some coming advertisement. His flowery scent alerted Marla that an untainted man was then in the building, all reason enough for Marla to alert her sisters. As of her then owning his sporty car, she found he was foolish enough too carry in the dashboard glove-box had there the title of the vehicle. She said how she signed his named to it as if selling it to her. She dated it, wrote down the mileage and then went to the state office to have it titled then in her name.

Hazel more disgusted, asked Priscilla how she expected to get away with her thievery, they would check the signature and alert to police.

Priscilla laughed, she said the state office never checks on anything, and that two weeks after that she received her new clear title of the vehicle in the mail. The only thing the state office had an interest was of collecting the sales tax total, as once paid the dealing was done.

As for Charles, he stated he was openly a gay man of the new world. As he had no family, he had no one to argue the ownership of his car or property. He was in no-way worried about his belongings. His more important concern was to continue performing as requested. The sisters made of him a Percheron horse! They gelded him, and then sent him to auction where he was sold to a traveling carnival, and fetched a pretty price.

Priscilla was so proud of what they did to this man, she had photos of him; she reaching to inside her Hummer and removing them from under the sun visor. Hazel looked at them in the dull orange glowing light of her mercury vapor security lights, then sliding one of them in her bathrobe pocket.

Priscilla said very little after that, she got into her gifted vehicle, starting the engine she let it roar, and then in a hail of stones and dust she drove away.

Hazel returned quickly to the house, going to her kitchen for her making a mug of warm coffee. I joined her there, and sitting at the kitchen table I listened to a woman feeling anger like a dragon. She was becoming disgusted of how the Sisters were an ongoing insult to her, her Minotaur husband, and of what they made of her three sons.

That was the first she had as yet mentioned Hazel had a family. Worse yet, was that as she had three sons it was a good bet the Sisters got to them as they had to Hazel and her husband. So when she seemed to calm her temper and sipping at her hot coffee, I did dare to ask of her sons.

At first Hazel looked at me as if I had just trampled on her flower garden.

Then she reached into her bathrobe pocket and took out the photo given to her by proud Priscilla. She held it for a good minute, looking at it and not drinking or speaking a single word. As if done doing her study of the photo, she tossed it on the kitchen table for me to gaze at what a Realtor would look like after meeting the three women of the self righteous order, “Sisters of Circe.”

Reaching for the photo, Hazel took out another picture, one she said was the new photo taken of her three sons before Marla had them sold to another farm.

I took them in my hand and peered down, expecting near anything.

There I saw her three sons, doomed to being as animals, steers each with an ear tag and ready for shipment.

Hazel said the black and white one was Jeffery, as his older brother was the larger animal to the rear and right in the picture, he being named John. Jeremy, the youngest was just eighteen when he and his brothers were abducted. Memories of the three poured out of Hazel, she still thinking back of many fond times of fun and family get to gathers, where they all enjoyed family fellowship.

Then Hazel pointed to the new photo, taken without her knowing the reality of it all. She pointed to the picture and mentioned it was not taken at a carnival, she having out-bid them and wanted the large workhorse to make a perfect pair. She was told of the Sisters sending a great horse to auction, thought it best for all to harness this one with another Percheron, he too a product of the Sisters hate. As in fact the picture Priscilla had there was of some taken of the big horse when he willingly walked into the pasture on her farm’s eastern boundary.

Looking as if saddened for some reason, Hazel pointed to the picture and made a poignant notation of the horse had a sheath ring.

Accordingly, this was what the sisters did to someone made a brute animal and not granted the continuations of human memories and learned knowledge; basically leaving them then as purely ignorant beast.

So Charles the Realtor was sheath and cock ringed, and already tattooed on his inside upper lip with a number to add validation to his breeding, as if as he stood sold and placid about his being then equine, bestial, and willing to allow a photo of his new self.

One might think that even from all what happened I would have had a lousy night of sleep, but once I hit the hay, I slept until the sounds of farm life turned into a din of beastly cries. I awoke and felt again energized to meet the new day as only a young man can, feeling just as I would whether at home or living under Hazel’s roof.

Then there was Hazel and her constant prodding suggestion and offer for me to accept my becoming for her a proud if horny pony stallion to join Kit in his corral. I could and would not dent it was an idea that thrilled me some, but with the added thought of the after time when required of giving myself for the sexual perversions of Priscilla; she would have me live and do as would a pony stallion at stud. Yet her posing the suggestion went as far as when I ate my meals she had them prepared as if I was already a stallion. Breakfast saw my favorite American cereal Cheerios in one bowl and then along side it stood another bowel of Alfalfa tablets. These two along with some warm water was my three meals for the day.

According to Hazel, if I chose so to become a stallion pony anytime soon then the most difficult part was to shuck the desire for human foods. She was of desire to help me prepare for life as a pony and ease me into eating and enjoying the taste of oats, tepid water, and the Alfalfa being as my morning ration of field hay.

My eating this did more than prepare my sense of taste to accepting what is common food for a pony to eat. The way my gut would churn as from the digestion of grain and Alfalfa, changing in me my bodily odor I realized more when using the bathroom. I did find the change in body waste odor to be oddly appealing, as it affected my thinking, as if in fact what I ate was aiding in my decision making.

Whether from the Sisters diabolical view, or that of the pro or con concerns of Hazel and her means of livelihood, all around me was working toward the simplest way for them to be free of one loose cannon like me.

The more I pondered what to say and explain back at home to mom and or to Ron’s relatives as of the disappearance of their beloved one. Weeks had passed without so much as a phone call to mom; she had to be going crazy with worry. As meanwhile my passion and concern was of sidestepping the reasons for why Dave and Ron would never return home or be seen again. The easy way out of my predicament made the idea of accepting and slipping away into some other physical reality seem the easier way to defuse a difficult situation.

Constantly Hazel would make mention of lonely Kit, she asking, would prod me. As if to give me pride of becoming a pony, she said how she would place my name into the British Equestrian stud book. She getting it off a shelf would open it and begin pointing out a section showing Dartmoor stallions standing ready for being a prime stud breeder animal.

Although Hazel did not concur with the attitude and ideals praised by Priscilla, she had her reasons to keep me silent and not telling the authorities about the Sisters and their scheme with her. It was in her eyes a nice and relaxing sort of lifestyle she would make for me. As if after I am removed from the sexual blandishments of those vile minded sisters, then delivered to join my brother, Ron, and Kit, we all working with our male gender to breed and multiply our new species.

That very masculine male animal need for rut and from having a heightened sense of sexual sensation, this with the raw freedom given to animals in the way they live and breed, made me excited, while also making me feel a bit indecent for even giving such a thing real consideration.

Unless you live daily on a farm and around the animals, especially as on Hazel’s stud farm, it turns a bland ear and eye to the sexual manners of those mating. I watched so many times as my brother David, became excited and mounted a mare, his male organ being rigid but with exceptional libido he would lift his cock and be at the ready to thrust and couple.

Then there was a new friend Jeff, he became as a bull American Bison, his hot pick shaft protruded the furry bovine sheath nearly two feet in length. He wheeled the mighty shaft with an uncanny ability; especially when one considers he had no hands to guide it to the mark. I watched in utter fascination as he would become instantly erect, bounding over the rear of a bison cow, or an Angus cow and then with that marksmanship worthy a gunnery metal in the army, he inserted the shaft blindly.

Each and every male animal was a true marksman when doing his trick and mating or breeding as do they do it like animals.

Yet my religion keeps percolating back into the thought and plans of me becoming an animal. I think of old Mister De House and his hard teaching of biblical facts, the covenant between believers and their God. The remembering of how if that covenant was lost, the very soul was at risk of damnation! So my becoming as one changed of species would cancel that love the creator had for me a human. As taught our God preserves both man and beast, but it is mankind who being created in the image of God is by this special.

I can hear Mister De House preaching to the other boys and myself as we sat in Sunday school. He spoke of the Holy Spirit asserting its power to make the person want to believe. It then turns one away from that which is sinful, and has the person looking to heaven and wishing to join with the host in praising his maker. It is from that turning that we should wish to do good works and thus please our maker.

Yet on this I have to ponder, can one changed into being an animal think or want to praise his maker by doing good works; is having sex with female animals a good work? I pause often to give this some thought. It plagues me something awful, leaving me feeling as if life as an animal is not one of inspiration, but is instead soon to be dull and meaningless, having little future, and really nothing to have attained except adding to the number of animals for…slaughter!

I cried when seeing one pig, a boar having for his edification of self successfully mounted and bred according to Hazel, his 1000th sow. She laughing about how when he first came to her farm, that when put with a sow he would shy away. His mental demeanor could not cope with the drastic transition of species. Yet once he found the sensual side of his pig boar ability, he turned a new leaf, and joined the throng of male animals enjoying their sex as it was nearly the only thing an animal has for feeling admiration of self.

I felt a sense of terror for Tim as when he had so mastered his new lifestyle and vocation, Hazel sold him at auction. He was put with a group of older sows, and then loaded aboard a truck and with him squealing in terror; Tim knew what would soon happen. As a pig boar hog he had reached his prime. As such his body weight dictated like the others that their youth had turned into maturity, and just like in the corporate world, this was the time to rid either company or farm of those deemed as “Over Qualified.”

After being witness to a level of cruelty I thought Hazel was not capable there of, I asked about Ron and David, wondering at what point in time they too would have become over qualified.

Hazel laughed at my question, saying that I needed to find the objectivity in running a business or farm. She making it repugnantly clear that there comes a time when being as an animal that the ability to function is the only purpose for staying alive. Tim had reached that point in his size and having fallen off to a very low semen production, his usefulness was challenged by those who came after him. The Sisters made new and younger boars, some being so vile minded when human they thought being a swine boar as an adventure or even a vacation from humanity. To this thought Hazel laughed until she started coughing.

She shook her head in utter laughter and humor. Then explained that being as or becoming an animal puts the creature under more control of the humans. In fact, the humans use them more brutally than when they might have as being human. The animals depend on a human for food and water, medicine, and the hygiene care needed for them in their helpless state to continue to live and function until that time comes, as it came for Tim and would come for all who came to her farm, even me!

Hazel stood and spun then on one heel of her cowboy boot, giving an eye scan to what she owned and did govern. The turning to me she made a likely suggestion that Ron being a bull would reach his coma in about two years. Then a cough and hacking to clear the crud from her throat, she spit into the dirty dust, as suggesting David being a virile Jackass would last maybe ten years. After that point he would be checked often for his semen production. When the ability to produce thick and rich semen peaked, his sale to a park or some riding outfitter would be deemed likely. He would get castrated, being then a gelded male and his brash and bold demeanor would fade after being castrated.

And what of me being a Dartmoor pony stallion used for stud, how long would I be useful before castrated, and sent to only hell knows where?

Hazel then stepped closer and putting her arm around my shoulders she offered me some motherly comfort. Then in as calm and considerate a tone of voice she reminded me that everyone is useful for a time. When that time comes for me as a pony, I would be gelded as deemed proper for male animals used for riding. My time as a stud would make me bold and hard to handle under saddle and with a bit and bridle. Likely too, after say ten years of living the daily life of a stallion stud, my mental prowess would have changed to accepting the brutal lifestyle that it is to be an animal and a pony.

She was suggesting my mental awareness would decline, leaving me to act and do things as does a pony, whether male or female, losing any contact to what I had been born. Thinking of this disturbed me greatly, as soon after I became a pony my mind would dim and what was this me; was to fade and blur into something more the primal.

I had a lot to think about, and Hazel went her way as I returned to my room to sleep and maybe decide. She had set some of her plan into motion, the Sister were expecting me to come to them someday soon.

Come the morning and our usual conversing about everything from who was at stud that day to the weather. Hazel had the previous evening copy of her local newspaper in her hands, as she opened it to the third page and read to me.

“The police found the abandoned S.U.V. parked in a downtown parking lot of an old tenement building where his friend had an apartment.

Weeks before the more recent claimed disappearance of student David Styles, he was reported as missing by his mother. As the police seemed less than helpful to a worried mother, a local friend offered to try and investigate what had happened to Mr. Styles.

On the same day that this friend drove into the city, he and the brother to Mr. Styles have since both been added to the growing rolls of missing persons.”

Hazel turned the paper for me to see, showing there a photo of Ron’s vehicle, the windows all broken out and what seemed as a likely car theft was suggestive the vehicle was dropped off in the apartment building parking lot.

I took a closer inspection of the photo, to the one side of the reporter and a Policeman, stood Marla and Edna, two of the Sisters. Their alluring smile was meant for me, as Priscilla had as of the night before visited me. She reiterated her cold offer, and leaving with that same chilling lack of concern for me and my mother or family.

The news report only added to my concerns, and then thinking about how the Sisters were relentless as they tried to seek out and find someone like me that slipped through their spiteful grasp. I thought it likely they might learn from the things in David’s room of where I called home, coming to me there, and if caught by them when I was alone, well then what might happen to me, could happen to some friends also.

Priscilla wanted me to become a pony, and so did Hazel if for my keeping the story safe from mom and family. She had her own reasons for seeing me as a pony, she being bestial of desire, trained by Marla. They would enjoy a man as he changed, taunting, and from her passionate ways she helped her own lusty desire to have me a pony stretch the walls of her vagina.

Hazel had offered me use of her computer, and listed in her favorites were several sites she kept of communication with those interested in Transformation, as in men wishing to become as animals.

The Transformation Story Archive, Equine Dream, and others to name only a few, but listed was one forum dealing with bestial zoophile, it was with opening this can of worms that I saw the names of some who had already found their futures set at being animals on Hazel’s farm.

I was very open and maybe foolish, but I asked Hazel about the site, mentioning of two similar names that I had noticed appeared on signs above certain stalls. This only started another long and philosophical conversation, as from where I learned how the Sisters found so many to convert without raising the suspicions of the local authorities.

Hazel worked with chat rooms and mostly around sites that held those who enjoyed sensual and provocative relations with animals, male or female. She would coax them to open up and tell of their wild desires for acting worse that did animals, born as animal.

Her ploys would urge them to meet her openly for some type of bestial orgy; telling them to meet her at the Sisters apartment.

Hazel was just so nonchalant about her explaining the way she baited her chosen victims, luring them to meet the sisters, and then buying them for her farm a day or two later. Accordingly the sisters never learned they were being used in any way, as those that stumbled upon their craft never had time to inform them as how they came to visit. As usual the sisters took those who were men as captive, stripping them of decency, and then of their manhood.

Hazel expounded her own thoughts as of those who realized they would soon become the animal of their lusty dream, as was likely those changed, enjoyed the transformation. She thought of herself more like a dating service, offering those with lusty bestial passion to meet their desired love on a permanent level.

The usual warm and considerate Hazel was on this issue cold, and unforgiving, saying that of those with bestial intent, they made excellent animals for her breeding farm.

I went to the hayloft, a place where one can be alone and think.

Obviously the easy way out of this mess was to give myself willingly to what Priscilla offered. The general suggestions made by Hazel supported the same idea, she at least being more open as to what would happen to me in the long run of time.

I could return home, and there be assaulted with questions and sly innuendos, as those there would want to probe me of what they suspected went on in the big city. Then too, it was very much a likely thing that the Sisters, especially Priscilla, would find me, and then do to me as she would wish anyway.

My third option was even more difficult for me, as if I just picked up and walked away from Hazel, the Sisters, and never returned to see Mom and Family, or friends. If I did this then where would I go, how could I live, penniless and too young for being hired into some good paying job; this left me with the thought again of that easier way to live and support my life, was by grazing and being a willing stud animal for Hazel.

As if caught in a web of deceit and sexual pleasures I felt trapped, unable to get away from the perversions of the Sisters.

“Necessity is the mother of invention, and what was needed was the mother of a plan to do justice to “The Sisters of Circe!”

I decided the best thing to do was just slip away one dark moonless night. When come the morning, Hazel would wonder but likely keep her silence, wondering, and as much waiting for me to show up on a rein or tether as some new breeder.

My plan had many holes in it, but the primary idea was to go back to the apartment building, stay quietly in David’s apartment, and watch, wait, and be ready when the three sisters would leave to go together, shopping.

When they all three would leave their apartment, and never locking the door for an obvious lure to some fool thinking of stealing, they would return abruptly, catching them, and having some lurid fun.

I was attuned to their devious patterns, and living where they thought nobody did, I could exit the apartment and return one flight up to hide where David previously resided.

My plan was to gather such information as would or might lend to make the dear three sisters revert my brother David, and our friend Ron, or maybe some others, bringing them back to their human selves. It was as you might agree, as a fond and forlorn hope at best!

Marla had mentioned once when the three were working their magic upon my friend Ron, and told of a ledger she kept with names, dates, and destinations of those who might never again walk uprightly.

This ledger was the crux to my plan, it was as damning for those written inside, as it would be if given to the proper authorities.

Then if I could lay my hands on that one special book that the sisters used for quoting their changing spells; it might offer me some insights, and maybe, help my plan.

My sneaking ways helped me to easily enter the apartment where David then had resided.

I was trying to remain very quiet, walking stocking footed about and lying on the floor, a drinking glass to my ear, and listening to the Sisters brag and boast.

Four days came and went, I thought not to use the toilet, remembering how the water pipes in the ole apartment building would rattle and groan when someone flushed.

Instead, I relived myself down at the home spun eatery, getting my food there, and charging it on a credit card I found left in the apartment.

The four days were not without my learning a fair amount about the Sisters, they constantly arguing, and during that span of time they caught themselves a prize. A religious young man came canvassing at apartment doors, his cause was one to bring more lost souls into the church. His knocking at the door of the Sisters ended his crusade.

I had to listen as the Sisters beckoned him to step inside their apartment. They went to work on him in some due haste, he stammering and yelling, soon screamed and crying, as likely he found himself standing on a pedestal in the Sister's living room. He who as Marla stated, had want to bring more sheep into the fold, he could still do that by becoming a Ram sheep herd sheep that way.

The sounds came up and into my ear, I wanted to cry for the man, but my crusade would put an end to the Sister, so all I did was listen.

Listening, I spent days learning the schedule of how each sister came and returned, never once did they all leave the apartment together.

One morning nearer to midday, I heard the Sisters talking, congratulating each the other, remarking about a photo they received from Hazel, it showing Harold, a crusading young man, who found a real life-changing experience.

One very sad feeling Corriedale ram sheep stood in a pen belonging to Hazel, he was that young crusader. A scared animal with a wholly unholy human thinking mind still, he could not fathom then what was the divine plan for him.

I had seen others looking forlorn and in such plight, this being just the early stages as from that time forward he/she listened to a different dumber, one as Equine, and the other as from becoming female of gender.

I had thought of going downstairs and at the very least, offer him some comforting words; but doing so, I might be caught, and then what of my plans. I felt bad for the fellow, an anxious Ram, waiting for Hazel and her truck to come; he milling in circles and trying to figure out how and why he felt so out of place.

A sad feeling came over me as I watched Hazel load the newly spellbound ram into her truck, paying the Sisters their due. I stayed there and sat watching; seeing when the Sisters returned to their lair and Hazel offering a few comforting words to her new prize Ram sheep.

* * * * *

Chapter V

I had decided from seeing enough of what the sisters made men do by becoming as animals was not in my best interest to join David and or Ron. It was a foolish thought at best! As surely I would find a demeaning future of permanence and continued mental degrading until the last of what is a human flutters off into a bestial infinity.

I wanted more than to feel my tail swish and flick or what it is to have your penis grow huge and the sensation from it sinking past leathery lips into a hot tunnel of wild bestial passion.

I had to hide, but the sisters were alerted of my willingness to do what Hazel suggested as a cowardly way out of my strange situation. The problem being I could not return home now and I did not wish to grant my future and bodily form to the whim of those three sisters of their weird faith.

I listened and learned what each sister did, they making mention as of special victims they with their art carried out such diabolical scheme of dehumanization. The spell book might tell much, as from it held inside I needed to find the more believable a passage the authorities might consider as factual. There must be something to hold the sisters to a promise of doing to me what would make Kip and or David delighted from my joining them there as another stud. The thought of the latter was not one of preference, but necessity if caught and forced then to return the books.

I then had to remain there vigilant, keeping myself inside of the apartment originally rented by brother David, until my fifth day brought the chance, as an unconsidered ally to my plan was that even Sisters of Circe tend to get hungry, they climbing into their confiscated van of some victim and drove off to some market.

Thinking that this timing would offer me more than enough time to make my way down one flight of stairs, and then to the Circean Sisters apartment, the urgency of the plan went with me.

It seemed more ominous their apartment as I strode in and heard nothing but absolute silence. The normal clamor of those three pairs of high heel shoes on old oak floors or where it was covered with cheap carpet made enough noise to waken the dead.

Grumbling to myself, I stood inside the foyer to the apartment, wondering best what I could find or do to help those the Sisters damned. I went directly to the living room bookcase, and eyed the dozen or so large ledgers setting on the lower shelf. Glass doors and a latched lock stood in my way of getting a look at the ledgers. I had wanted so of reading them, hopeful for some possible way to return Ron and or David back to the way they were before having met the Sisters.

My previous four lengthy days listening to their grumbling and muttering voices told me some of what they enjoyed, other than witchery of a man or men into some form of animal. They relished in old movies of the 1950 to the 60’s and earlier, those with deep plots, and an occasional surprise. One such that they rented was “Dial M for Murder” where in this one the murderer found a key to the apartment under the stairs rug directly in line with the front door of the apartment.

Surprised, and delighted, I found the bookcase latchkey kept there under the edge of the rug tacked to the pedestal where many a man met his bestial future.

I unlocked the glass doors, sliding them back into the wall pockets on either side of the bookcase. Then eying the number of ledgers I spied an interesting one such big book. I opened the page and beheld the name of Benjamin; a young married man the sisters thought would do equally as well as had David. They doomed him to a life of maddening sexual encounters, he a virile male Jackass donkey too! He they had a special use being a prime stud. He would soon sire colts into the world, and there was a mentioning about his sweet wife named Carrel was incited by Elaine of becoming a member of the fraternal order of “The Sisters of Circe.”

Elaine wrote a personal notation about the wife of Gentle Ben, and so wrote how she having accepted the vow of dispatching men to their rightful and proper forms; did delight with watching when the Sisters sent Ben, her husband to his sensual doom.

Carrel, brought to the sisters several other of males her husband deferred from humanity had as good friends, each took on his rightful new form. Two such found their bodies changed, one of which drastically so, they a pair male and female Rottwieler dogs. As of the others gave away everything, were turned away from anything human, then cherishing bestial life.

I read on, as of a story told how a young vacationer by the name of George had met and led then by Carrel to the apartment. His accounting told of him realizing his hopeless situation, he respectfully requested of the sisters, he pleaded to become as a Fox-morph.

Foolhardy, he expected the Sisters to honor his fantasy request by using their power to reply to his one last favor. I spent too much time reading, as this story was of something personally captivating by what happened. He as would assuredly I too if it were to be, he felt as found the transformation as if something quite pleasurable. So very pleasing, that I too thought seriously of trying my luck and make mention of him, he as since then a Highland pony stallion.

I felt an odd shiver, as if just by holding this one ledger filled with the crimes the Sisters did to men and mankind, I too felt an urge to wanting as going to where men were vile and openly lusty that became as beasts.

The sound of the elevator announcement bell ringing at the end to the third floor hallway did much to make me scarf up three of the ledgers. In a mad rush I headed out the apartment door, for some safer place and more reading.

Scampering up the stairs I forgot to close the glass doors to the bookshelf and failed to replace the key back under the pedestal rug.

As you might imagine the screaming din of noise when three witches returned to find their apartment robbed, and three ledgers attesting of their blandishments and guilt, missing from the bookshelf.

I sat listening to the commotion below as I had one of the ledger books lying opened there on the upstairs apartment floor. The other large books spread about the bed, that hallowed place where my brother David once slept peacefully.

Reading of the ledgers bade me feel a building inner lust that someone as young as I might not feel for a few more years. Yet it all tended to thrill me for some adverse reason. I read more, reading faster, comparing notes from two of the big books, as if one there seemed to be the originator book and this was the works of their cause, as if giving the Sisters their powers.

I did read of a spell, and reread it several times until from some growing horniness, did the read of it aloud and began more than what I expected!

"And now to the Demons and Devils I cast this spell, by my will do I cast it, knowing of the consequences come my own death. I, and I alone cast a spell to bring with lust and passion for delighting myself with females not now of my species, let it be real, let it be true, that from this moment onward I shall become as a stallion stud pony too; in mind hall I be yet me, knowing, remembering, and fully rational of thought, but as in the form of an animal, bestial of desires, I as me cast a spell of lust over mares, let come then my time to transform, finding enjoyment from equine thoughts, wishes, and dreams, whether bridled, saddled, in harness or unbridled, may I revel in feeling the lust and passion of me, Haflinger stallion pony, a stud, constantly at stud, enjoying my mating with mares and or women, all this done for me by one, who is his/her Brother/Sister in the ocean of time. Now, now, now so Mote It Be!"

No sooner said than things began to inflict upon me minor discomforts, not real pains, but an uneasy feeling that sooner rather than later I might be standing in a corral and lustfully eying the round and horse hair covered rump of some want lusty mare.

As if a vale of strange lustful passion surrounded me, I saw a vision, one of me sleeping in bed and by the side of my bed stood such a Demoness. She there by a beckoning spell was prepared to lure me further into her side of the evil realms, as if by her toying with me I would become as hers, a slave to do with and make or force me to tow her will.

In her mind I saw her wish for me, she having a plan and I a part and portion of it. I looked at it as if it were I and me wishing then to be as it, there stood a handsome stallion, easily aroused by something as yet not in the scene.

Soft spoken words did melt away my strength, turning me to be as if putty for her to mold and reshape of what was me, and make for her need a stout stallion, human mind intact, but feeling the lusts that come from living in and as the form of a stallion, stud, at stud!

The seeing into her mind caused me some sense of horror, but this died away with the sight of what would cause a stallion Haflinger the early state of an arousal. As there, entering the scene stood two handsome mares, mares that once were men, but by the willful desire of some sister of the three sisters, they came to know the sensations as do animals, and as well the pangs of passion known to mares.

Turned loose from the reined tethers that held each at bay and under the direction of that young and sensually minded witch sister; two mares bolted toward where I stood.

I felt astonished that these two mares acted with such want for me to pleasuring of them, one coming to an abrupt halt before me. She unlike her companion did eye me as I did her. She seeing my building sense of lust, then whirled, raised her tail and stood making a stallion an offer he could not nor would refuse.

Seeing was for me the decisive drive to follow the instinctive manner of being an aroused stallion standing near an equally enticing mare.

Instantly a mindless madness came and clouded my mind, sending headlong into a crazed fury of wanton delight. The remembrance as my male erection flourished into a flared and rigid pole had its own marked additions to force me into a mating situation.

Then, my mind caught and held just bits and pieces of the entire act of bestial expression.

I felt a inhabited memory when as I stood mostly upright as do human kind, I mounted the mare. The first touch of what were my afore hooves to her rump, the sliding of them down along her flanks; if a horse could have and feel goose pimples, then I bloomed a forest of them!

Blank mind and wild passion, deep breathing and a drastic urgency for what I thrust, I longed for the touch of something equally as heated as was I. probing with a blind urgency, and feeling a discouraging lack of success. Yet with continued tries, the flared head end of that marvelously sensual shaft did finally meet that which I sought so urgently. The moment as I spread open the animalistic gates to hell it self did burn its mark into my then equine mind.

Truly blinded by waves of raw passion, my memory is so vague at that point in my wild relationship of mating a mare. Conscience thoughts and remembered actions returned when with the force of the opening of my Equine fire hydrant, did force forth a flow of such a velocity, my mind captured the sensation and felt it as something of equine holiness.

My deed done, the glorious shaft having wilted to be like a hung string of wet spaghetti; it remained held by that lusty mare, gripped by her vaginal muscles. She squeezed at it, as if trying in her way to wring the last spurt of semen from it. I knew the mare’ want, that male mind having given of itself to the completion of change was in fact the rude and lusty mind as of a man made mare with feelings of new her unrelenting pangs for mating.

Like do men in their way when the deed is done, the member wilts and is held and strained for one lasting sense of thrust, wanting it ever deeper, and if it were possible to set embedded as would a horse with a mare. I too, I had the same lagging want for keeping that moment going ever onward, but it was not to be!

The rush of need had vanquished nearly all of the massive strength in my hind legs, I felt weakened, and near ready to collapse.

That bestial sensation when the slithering figment of a hose slid out and past the nipping and still winking lips of a mare vulva; my shaft fell out of her with such sensation to its bulk and weight, the feel of it was worth all of what my mind could grasp.

Weakened, shaky I stood once more on all fours, the breathing of huge and heavy droughts of air into tired lungs did little to quell and calm.

As sense and mind gained conscience understanding to my place and situation, the other mare made her advances upon my very equine, stallion self.

Assaulting one stallion so in wild and sensual anguish after the fact, my upper lip did curl inside outward in an equine style of doing the flehmen. The heady musk scent of a mare producing her raw scent of want and need according with her time of estrus did to me what had the other mare and my strength felt bolstered and ready for yet another wild relationship.

All this occurred as in the corner of my mind set a memory of the one Sister laughing, as she enjoyed the pangs of a man being stallion and the pangs set into a male mind having to live then in and as would a mare.

Oddly as for me, I felt with the sensual connection came the mental anxiety of a male thinking human mind having then to deal with the rank passions known to a mare feeling her time of estrus. The waves of indecision that prevailed in his mind, he feeling and having control over the mare body but still his thoughts were a blending of male passion and equine female lust.

Finally, I had for me a path chosen, if then forced to choose, I stood before womankind and my god, as would a brute male animal. Those fears that quaked down deep inside of me, as if my anguish and horror had subsided; I was and am as what some wishful fate seemed so proper.

Poised, I stand then as a proud male animal, delighted with what it is to be as self, and almost thankful to the sister or Sisters for my time of “Coming out!”

Awakening from what must have been for me a dream, or at the least a daydream state induced by the spell I wove from the ledger. As it all subsided, and reality became all too clear that what I saw, felt, and knew was not real, yet not real!

I was real, the true-born me, me that felt the loss of so much of my world. Gone from me was the concern for a cherished love of a brother, and more so of a good friend too! My soul bled with anguish for them and as much for the others, Kyle and more, of those who from meeting the Sisters of Circe could never again be and live as do men and humankind.

Yet the spell I spoke did something to me, I felt educated into the passions known to stallions and the sires of great herds. It was for me profound, as if something I felt then a need and want to make it real as well permanent. The demons, and or that Demoness I saw in my dream, she stood in reality there in the room and beckoning at me, suggesting, making mention the way is easy to be and get what I felt of as my true want.

“Return the books, ask of the Sisters and let them show you how much passion they have for someone so bold and yet so filled with the integrity to return something of great vale to the rightful owner.” This a female voice spoke, saying it over and over, until I was ready bury my head under a pillow and scream and scream until the sound of that voice would stop.

Eyes closed and hands trying to blind my ears as ears felt the onslaught of what my spell did loose upon me, and all my senses; the sight of her coming to me reappeared. It was as clear to me as had it the first time I saw this wondrous vision of a beautiful woman.

She with her radiant sensual form did spare me from her sensual offer, but instead caused me to feel the anguish only a devilish demon could do to someone who was born as a human.

Those pleading and soft beckoning turned then to harsh and angered words, telling of what would come, of me and what I am, of what they would do to me, unless the ledgers be not returned. I felt as if thousands and maybe millions of small sand pebbles began to strike at me, all skating about as then encircling around me. The spun and screamed like the banshee devils that come from hell.

Feeling my clothing torn from off my body, the horrid damnation these things felt for such as I, they had an intent, a plan, and when finished with me, what was the true me would be then something else, something of which they had an intention to use.

Anguished, I screamed but the want of screaming about my torture was as silent to the world around me as was the demons and devils that whirled around and were doing their best of worst.

As if my skin fell under attack, it being pierced, slit, sliced, diced and stripped from off as the covering over what muscular form that made me, me!

Fingers, toes, feet, forearms, heal, knees, pelvis, spine, everything that made me as me felt as if it were my being taken apart, and then in a similar and horribly frightening fashion, the devils spun me like yarn into being as they had me for their need.

Slowly the world around me became clear and with such a reality of feeling, I thought and felt it was my own true reality.

Then, her voice, the soft and loving sound of a female speaking to me, she telling me to behave and my life would be all the better for doing as I was so told.

Awakening, I stood in a room ringed with aged brick and my head double strapped with halter, bridle, and a bit forced into my mouth. Straining to speak my thoughts, the garbled sounds that issued out my mouth were those made by some intelligent mind, it having limited physical abilities, of which intelligible speech speaking was not a part.

She spoke, and her words filled every available cavity of my brain.

“We have a need for you, and so then you are now as a Dartmoor pony and a stallion. You are a mature male animal, able and if you mind us, then a willing creature ready to take your place in the continuing pedigree of what you can be as a Dartmoor.

It may seem as if this all is a dream, but give in to us and let us guide you; given time and sessions, what is can be for you your own new reality. Now let us go in, and I shall introduce you to whom you are to mate with and make pregnant with the enhanced seed of both human and equine all blended into one!”

Again, I saw what this Demoness said was the new me, and as much I felt she was correct. Indeed, I had all the sensations of what it might be to be then as an equine pony, a stallion, and what was most intriguing was that musky odor enveloped me, causing my lip to Flehmen again.

I was ready, and led with the rein attached to my bridle and bit; I walked obediently from that room to another.

Undeniably, I was as a stallion pony!

The very air I breathe and the flavors within my mouth tell of some what had become of what is the real me. All the senses are at full gain for helping me to realize the world around me, or at the least within the smaller realm to which I am in and of its control.

Eager to please, I listened and did obey as to what the Demoness suggested, walking forward when a tug to the rein told of how others there had a place for me to see and experience.

My first few steps seemed as it wild ecstasy, hoofs touching hard concrete, the sensation surging up strong limbs to a brain and mind made then to accept this information and help, guide, and control my response to the feeling.

The closer I came to the next room my male pony self did feel the presence of some other, another of my kind, but broadcasting her need and want for some male to come and quell the urge that was near to driving her mad.

Sensing me by my bodily odor, the mare turn her head, whinnied me a warm greeting, and then availed me of a sight my human portion of a Equine mind suggested was of something totally that of being bestial. My first inkling was to turn away from her and wish to recant my delight for being as a pony and a stallion.

The ever ruling and urging rein had different ideas for me.

A harsh yank reminded me of my place then and of where as an animal I stood there in that place by the reasons of those who by higher powers did have control over me.

Feeling a sense of anger toward those who would have me feel some want and lust for this mare, I snorted with a defiant thought.

Snorting blew air out my broad nostrils and did flick the tail hairs of the mare standing then directly before my face. The fluffing of her tail seemed to equate a difference of opinions by the mare, she raising her tail high and to the side, availing me of a view of her posterior.

In me began a warring faction between the animal and the moral thinking man.

The animal, which undeniably I was of form and somewhat of mind, insisted the time was right to rise up, mount, seek, and mate with the mare.

The moral thinking man that set floating inside the brain and feeling the body of this stallion pony form felt the better idea of all this, as if I should then back away, retire from such and seek the dark privacy of my stall.

Verbal dissensions of the humans there in that place tended to urge me to let slip my mental bonds with what I was as a human. The animal again that surrounded me, holding me as if an unwilling partner in life, but there by the Demoness and her bigger plans for me, I was to obey, and allow the animal to do as would an animal.

As soon as my will lowered and let the instincts flow through that equine stallion body, the ritual of equine mating rites began in earnest. I felt it come over me, this surge of fascination, and a wave of bold impassioned lust for other than the concerns and wants of the mare; but as if I were alone in the entire world. Everything I felt or wished then related to the feeling of my male shaft bearing deeply into the mare. I sensed some male will for wishing to dominate the mare, but this seemed as if a far cry from the brash want to know the feelings and sensations for being then as a stallion and stud.

Equine nearsightedness did grant me an exceptional view of the mare in refined details. Her movements, that of winking at me but not with her big brown eyes, she drew me to get closer, my sniffing in true bestial manner, testing her for being ready and willing.

Flooding in through broad and flared nostrils rushed a musky odor, her scent as it were, this telling my animal mind of that the time was right.

A vague concern had me tilting my head to eye the mare and her flanks, wondering if she were true about being willing for what was to come; or would she balk, kicking back with hind legs. It was of a past time and the memory of a mare being unwilling, her hind kick nearly castrated this new me, leaving an erect stallion to cope and dissipate his male enhancement.

The reins tugged at my bridle, helping to urge me forward, and from where I stood the only way to go forward was to rise up, standing on two feet as do human kind.

Urgency of that moment, my lack of coordination and probing, and a warm hand of friendship took me in tow, pushing, pointing, directing what I could not see. A turning of the head to eye and nod my thankful greeting to that personage for their help brought a round of laughter from those watching the equine orgy.

It seemed a proper thing to do from my being human before becoming equine. Yet, I forgot my place again, forthwith not considered an equal to those who were human; but kept as a pet and property it was part of my duty for living life, that I mate and help to increase the numbers of that which was my breed of animal.

A host of guttural groaning, snorting, and muffled sounds of a brute male animal straining to bring him into position, and feeling the building orgasm, I as much wanted to remain mounted, thrusting, and enjoying that brief moment.

Suddenly, without a fanfare all urgency and the rush of that lusty sensation seemed abated, and without much of any thought or consideration over the delights of that mare or myself, I dismounted her.

We whinnied in wanting to remain together, having felt a bonding then from that mutual need; we wished to try it all again later.

The humans in control had other ideas, and our reins urged us to part, each moved off to a stall or a paddock to regain some sense of peace and contentment.

I could hear her crying, and I would have shed a tear if it were possible, but for being equine, either mare or her stallion are impersonal when it comes to considering the feelings of others.

Sated sensually from the panicked urges to mate and breed, I lay down that night in my stall. Feeling more tired than usual. I drifted off into what I would had hope of as purely restful and refreshing slumber.

My mind, my life and form were a host of jumbled conflicts, I felt anguish over the indifference over the taught and proper morals of being human. I waned in wonder, thinking as I mated and even later when I slept of my impurity, as if by my transformed self I should still requite things with being born a human.

Meanwhile and in and between these passing concerns and thoughts did glimmer those brute bestial urges. I lay there feeling lust building in my loins for yet another encounter with that lovely mare. Passion turned to comparisons, she and her ways as differing from other times, just a few occurrences; fond remembered of romps that meant nothing but were from watching a movie of two wanting people as something to try and mark as a feeling to be compared to for the rest of their life.

I am plagued by the drastic differences that set as a barrier to me in my life!

Then arrived the demons, those cruel spiritual powers that dwell upon the earth to plague man kind and animals as well.

My hazy dream of the mare and her wondrous manner of accepting me, and seemingly urging me on, sucking if possible every tainted drip of semen form out my aroused shaft.

All comparisons stop, I see an image of a elderly man as the seven woe some demons lent to prod and entangle a person in their own dreamy delights; do then try their best to make my time of life a bit of the taste of Hell.

They speak and growl, taunting me with the horror of their realm, reminding me that animals have no souls, nor did Christ come to save animals from their sinful ways. As so taught from church teachers of all such were doomed and deemed worthy to spend eternity gnashing, pawing, kicking, or devouring those so sent their due to being vile and evil people.

Horrified, I then awake as in the form of a horse, and in a scramble to stand up, panicked I am at the ready to run from those who would attack me.

I can hear the demons all scoffing at me, laughing at the foolish mind that forgets he is but inside the embodiment of an animal; and as much held at bay from reacting by the stall ways, steel bars, and the latch which keeps the door tightly shut.

Of that night and so many other as yet to come I see those same seven demons!

Daily as nightly my life and body are under the constant attack of those demons. I know this to be true in my mind's eye, the devils occasionally appear in dreams, taunting me to wish that I were something other than of what I became and am.

My daytime has with it much strife and tip or fall, making me look clumsy or as if so disoriented, those who would want of me as a stud for a cute mare turn away and seek another as their preferred breeder stallion.

Mentally, I speak using my mind at them and their master, cussing and cursing the Devil master himself for the ways and wherefores of how they make my life a constant turmoil. The passion and delight of what I had as a fond hope for being as I am, is all but a forlorn fantasy from what lifestyle of a stallion and muted mind has as to live and endure.

I laugh in my thoughts at how vague my knowledge was, as if by some power and will I if tired of being a stallion could set it aside, and return home to again sleep in a clean sheet bed with my electric blanket turned up high and me roasting under its vale of warmth.

Anger wells in me for being as I am, a muted mind, unable except from body language or snorting, a whinny, and the motion of a tail and or ear to show what I would wish to express.

Bodily, the lusty desire to have the size male organ as now I sport was one of the most alluring factors for being as I am. Yet with having and having flagged it openly before people and causing many embarrassment galore; the thrill of it has faded into being a concern linked mentally to an action.

Indeed, when first as a stallion the urge to purge a full bladder or denoting the rank scent of a mare would cause me to become sexually erect, and whether standing walking, or on a fast trot, the slapping of my maleness was my time for feeling some embarrassment too!

Concerns for others is a human thing, although I do notice that they too occasionally lack of any thought as to what they do might and or will affect the lives of others. My own indecency of manners by being as in the form of an animal one needs not be of concern for what I do and how it may affect or effect those around me; save maybe if I stand in harness with another of my kind to lash out with teeth and in a fit of disdain.

When first I arrived into this form the tickling of flies walking where as when I was human they never had their chance to give me such sensation, his I felt a thrill and delight. Now and since, the things and thoughts have changed to where what I deemed as a tickling, became as are the flies a curse upon my body. Some are so large they might bite me, making welts, itchy spots to twist and scourge me to near insanity.

Remembering back the near beginning of my time being as a stallion and stud, this one fly did come and begin walking and cleaning the very end of my erect and exposed shaft; I having just done my first mare, stood then proud and felt a tickling thrill from the fly as it walked, licked, and poked his head up that hole in the anterior end of my gooey slime covered shaft. Tantalized by flies walking on my body are now distractions and become a less than enjoyable sensation, as they keep my tail and mane busy.

Humans come and do visit, most blessing me with a smooth stroke to remind me of the hairy sensation of what I am and how sleek I look to them. A rarer few come with evil thoughts abounding in their minds and the ways they reach and do feel of me. Some are cruel in their thinking, but of these they all ultimately get around to poking prodding, and or fondling my maleness, sheath, and if for some reason they coax me into an aroused state; then some do more and are vile even to the morbid thinking ways of being an animal and a stallion horse.

All things considered, this change of body and lifestyle allows nothing better and some ways worse, than to live with the open opportunities that abound to those who walk the earth on two legs, or even if need be on wheels.

Peeved at what I am, I stand and have much time to think, remember, and wish what was could be different again!

Allowed by the devils to awaken from the dream world of what a human mind can imagine is as real and solid as the top of a table, the experience was given me. An experience that gave more than realizations of what is sensual when one is as a animal. It did more and lent to understand how and why David and then Ron especially felt the curse placed on them by the Sisters was not a curse, but blessedness.

Their existence when and while human was loaded down with difficulties of dealing with people who expected much as to their wants and plan which might well not be the same ideals owned by Ron and or David. It was from these controversial continued confrontations that Ron spoke of when we talked, and he then on the pedestal did wink at me. I suspect he gained a desire from what the Sisters did to him as he could better cope with living life from a simpler state and form than needing to do it as does a person with people.

Animals, beastly their actions as what people say when comparing what is social morality to lifestyle of such freedom to choose that the human kind can barely comprehend the advantages animals have by being born as animals.

That foolhardy spell said aloud did something to change my mind. “No,” a person does not chance their mind, they change the direction their mind thinks and therefore they follow that new path of thinking. My thoughts are changing, and as what was said in the Bible about either following truth, or returning to home to bury the death, the answer was plain, to let the dead bury the dead.

In as much with my present state of mind I want not to return home and face there the inquisition of vicious and vindictive people seeking reasons for why two young men just disappeared. I had a story to tell that none would believe, it seemed as unbelievable even to me, but it was terribly real. I love my mother and respect her for all she went through to rear me along to where I am today. She hearing what happened here, would dare I say, she would slap my face and say that I was a liar for spinning such a tale.

If ever a person felt trapped by the events boiling around them, I was then such a person. An unbelievable a story that is wholly unsubstantiated if in lack of fact still true as what became of they, Kip, Dave, and Ron. Bonded by a promise of acting honorable with a plan to discover for a loving mother what became of her eldest son. Becoming the sole survivor of a doomed expedition, all the others as damned and made bestial, no proof as what to show the parents and loved ones of Ron as where he now grazes peacefully, content to his self, delighted on occasion with his sudden passion for sniffing the butt of a cow. All this and more, more now that from the spell said aloud did I draw in the devils of Hell to admonish in me what I was taught is wrongful and not socially acceptable.

As if standing on a teeter totter and at the fulcrum of its center, not knowing still which is better toward leaning into, or to stand forever stranded, caught between deciding what path to follow, I thought to stay on, reside in the apartment and reading the ledgers more, learn maybe of what is best, better, and righteous for all.

Awake, I got up out of bed, the ledgers there on the bedroom floor and to my surprise and some dismay or even horror, there she stood, that black Demoness from what I supposed was a dream.

“Good morning young sir, I trust your dream world met the delight of what you were given the sensual desire some years ago, was realized then by what you did during the past few days.” She said, the Demoness said, she standing there and with a white fang toothy a smile and her yellow squared pupil eyes she was a Cheshire of a cat waiting.

I thought to answer her, but said nothing. I stood up, did raise the hands and arms high above my head and stretched, feeling stiff in places that never felt so sore as they were then. Shuffling off to the bathroom, did turn on the shower, forgetting the likely sound of it heard in the apartment below, I felt the need to bathe.

Striping off the underwear worn to bed as nightwear, I stepped inside the shower stall, blurry eyed, the warm water cascading down over my body, it felt so warm and relaxing on sore muscles.

Towel I hung over the shower door, and a washcloth flopped on the shower drain to plug it and allow the water to soak at aching feet, I faced the water, letting it rinse both face, mouth, teeth, and my hair.

Grabbing next the towel to pat dry around the face and eyes from the water flushed at me, I stood again letting the water work its soothing feelings. That is when with looking down saw and was stunned at seeing the water pooling about my feet was dark with dirt, dust, and hairs.

Tense at the sight of the dirty water, I removed the drain plug, sliding back the washcloth to allow the water to spiral down the drain, as it went the sight there of my feet made me more than tense.

“My feet,” I said aloud as if stunned, as only to hear then the Demoness say, she having since entered the bathroom, stood there just outside the shower stall, she listening, did then laugh.

My feet were not what I walked upon when I had said that fool spell, indeed; the Demoness had done part of what she wanted the Sisters to do, and had left me that way when I awoke. What was human feet had become as solid hoofs of a pony, feet the hind high standing angles, as heels were as strong hocks and legs made into a muscular hunch, as buttocks were rounded, narrowed, leaving my anus open to the light of day and with a pony tail draped over my pretty pony butt.

The dirty water was the rinsed caked dirt and dust of he who was for three days and two wild nights as made animal by the Demoness. The dreaming of being a pony stallion kept as and used as a stud breeder was not in any reality a dream, but quite real.

Seeing my Dartmoor brown and black hair on black hide skin and the muscular legs, hoofs, and all, I felt suddenly the rising of my arousing erection, and stimulation I remembered from what I had supposed was a dream. Rising up and out the upward body paralleling sheath rose out such a black hose of sensual sexual delight my mind begged for me to scream of delight seeing it was real.

“And you thought all I could do for you was given you a dream! Dream it began, but you went beyond that and became as is your future self, changed as what the Sisters would have done to you when having with them watched of Ron become as a bull.

His makes it an easy plan for your future, take the ledgers, bring them to the sisters and let them do to you and your body what I have begun. We have special needs and plans for an intelligent pony stallion to incite perversion of ideals of certain influential young people. You shall help to coax them, changing their ideals as to what is acceptable. In your future there are many mares to breed, but some female humans too, two of which shall by no chance but by my will they become pregnant and birth then a pony prodigy to begin a whole new form of evolution.

You can become the honored beginning to a whole new race and social order, now finish your showering, dry your hairy body gather the books and go then to the sisters and tell them that Lysailea sent you!” She said, the Demoness said to me, and I stood there stunned, somewhat relieved for not ever returning home, and wanting again to be with a mare in her stall and rutting, coupled, and mating as do real animals.

Listening to the Demoness tell what she would want for and of me, my pony penis stood out the sheath, aching for a releasing a spewing flood of pent semen. I stroked it, the length made me shiver; the touching of it said much of its sensuality. The bulbous head, flat at the end, looking like some prehistoric mushroom, was the essence of me becoming bestial.

I closed my eyes and remembered the jerking of the mare as that flat cock head pressed against her lavish black lips of equine sex and was pushed hard to make the plunge inside the mare. She as then did I feel the resistance at the touch, but we relished the sensation from it as the cock slid in, going deep, and filling the expectations of two animals wild with want and passion.

Hands, something soon as missing, did stroke the long cock, and felt the heftiness of two much large testicles. A finger stroking of the binding skin behind the balls gave body shivers, reminded of when as a pony I strode the ground walking on all fours and felt more alive and free, free even made to stay inside a fenced pasture!

The spell as read had made of me what the Sisters might have, and the Demoness did, foolishly I was doing to me what the Sisters would soon gain the value of a well bred pony of worthy conformation to be a sire.

A moment of sane thought came with a wonder and worry. I looked to the Demoness, as she to me, we knowing of how aroused I felt. I had to ask of her, I said, “This being me, of what I see and feel, it is the true new me, not some devilish glamor of the mind?”

She stood there and with no expression as to glee or bane, simply said, “Yes, as what you asked for with the spell was as much a directive of what I was forced to do to you. This is binding and when complete the change, most certainly a final thing, you shall have no manner or ability to speak again a spell, you will become as is an animal of form, and a human still yourself of mind. I trust this all meets with your hope of delight, but if it does not, too bad!”

I was about to ask of her something further but as I stood naked and half way between being male human and a mature pony animal, the door to the apartment opened and there was some strange noises.

Standing and walking uprightly, I did stride my steps, as having the hind legs then of my final pony like self I found it difficult to walk and keep my balance. The use of something to help and hold onto such as door frames, walls, or furniture, I made my way down the hall to the kitchen foyer. Standing there, the door to David’s apartment stood blocked open, a pail on the floor had in it several bottles of varied cleaners, a pile of white rags, and a mop.

I backed away and took a stance around the corner of the hallway. The apartment manager must have ordered a janitor to come and clean the apartment, Dave being his Jackass self for more than a month had not paid the rent, so it seemed proper to send a man to clean the apartment for the next fool tenant.

The visitor/ janitor was as much forcing me to do what the Demoness would want, and have me go down on floor to the apartment of the Sisters. What else could I do, as to stay would have this man see a human changing of body, becoming a stout pony stallion. I was a freak of nature being half and half something else!

How could I explain this me? The voicing of it seemed as impossible as was the actuality of it, the sensations of becoming and as wanting again what the Demoness introduced me to feeling, was then my true wish for a animalistic a future.

Whistling a merry tune, he came out the service elevator with another load of what he might need to do his cleaning. The fellow was in a moment more going to come inside the apartment and then we would meet, what can one say to give reason to be as part man and animal all too once?

“Who is there?” I called out as if from the hallway or the bedroom.

My yelled question quickly stopped the man from whistling his tune, he ceased his walking the outer hallway, was silent for a few seconds, and then said, “I was told you were out of the apartment and I was to clean it for the new tenant, not that one has rented the apartment as yet. Mr. Ames the manager requested I come and clean, but if you are still in residence, why bother doing it now?

I shall gather back my cleaning supplies and take leave, and report to Mr. Ames he still has a tenant to get back rent or have you legally evicted, which ever?” that said he walked around the doorway and stood in the foyer of the apartment. He began gathering his work supplies, setting them into the outer hall, when he stopped and seemed to think of something, he asked, “Are you David Stiles, we talked when you first rented the apartment, and you voice does not sound the same, its higher and sounds as if quite a bit younger?”

Truth being better than to lie, I said in reply, “No, I am a brother to Dave, he is missing, gone, and I was residing here while looking for him or what happened to him.”

Imagine the stunned feeling I had when next the man then said, “Well, likely then another damn doomed male met with the Sisters in apartment 5-A. I hear the police discovered the S.U.V. of one man sent here to look for David Stiles, and he came with the brother to David, so you are the brother! Well, if you have to this point in time kept away from meeting those evil sisters, then God is watching over you!

I suspect mind you, that David met them as they did to him their manner of debauchery, it sexual as well physical, they have ways of making a man…, they especially like men! They I know have done their evil to masculine women, whether they be lesbian, a or the Dyke type, if forceful with those sisters the likely outcome is you find yourself changed to live a much different a future.”

I felt then bolder, knowing this man knew the reality that lurked one floor below, so I stepped around the corner of the hall wall and stood there naked as the half beast pony. I was surprised he did not make a face of surprise, but stood there as if he had met worse.

“This explains a lot about what goes on rather regularly here, this upstairs apartment is more of a holding corral for the sisters. It is rented on a as month to month basis, as never has a renter stayed in here for more than four months before from the noises heard they go down and confronting the sisters, they are never seen again!

You met them, I am surprised you got away before they had you as they wanted of you to become. I met Marla at different times, she leading a donkey, cow, bull, goat, or large dog out the back-door of the building.

Why Hell, everybody living here in the building knows of the sisters! Nary a man living here with his wife those evil females have not touched or tainted in some way to force them to remain silent. Mr. Ames, the apartment manager, he the live in liaison with the building owner they felt a need to keep him much to what he was born. They did do to him enough to make him keep the secret of what they do to men. I saw him once in a hurry getting dressed, he coming out the bathroom in his apartment as I stood in the entrance. The sisters must have had some sort of inkling he reminded them of the Lion in the wizard of Oz, as he has a chest fluffed with dark fur and his genitals are those like on a male lion.

Mr. Ames has always had a certain presence when speaking, sounding as one assuring by his boisterous manner to keep all around looking at him, paying attention to what he says.

Marla made the suggestion to him when they first moved in as of Harold, or ah Mr. Ames acted like the male lion over the pride, he the chief sire, and as he tells of it the other sisters did agree. Soon after their meeting that Harold found himself standing before the sisters. He like other since that they made to stand on that filthy podium pedestal, I saw it in their living room.

He remembers it vividly, and can recant back what he felt and heard, embarrassed is he, demeaned into submission, unable to move away lest the sisters finish on him what they began. How well he screamed when feeling the growth of a lion mane about his shoulders, as fur covered his back and chest, stands as coated with fur on the torso to his groin.

He must deal constantly with his ability to tell by scent when a woman or any female is in her monthly time of…, well he becomes quickly quite erect with a lion style of an erection. He says it is difficult to hide and happening, he must seek a place of privacy to spurt a release or do it in his pants.

Harold lives alone, his wife coaxed from being by his side, she joined the Sisters of Circe, and moved to another town; there she has her coven practicing, pleasuring herself and selling those men they change into a bestial world of animalistic slavery.”

Lacking any sense of embarrassment of self, maybe because of what the Demoness delighted, wanting me to become was as well my fond hope too, I stood there listening to the tale this young man spun.

The obvious question popped into my head, I asking said, “Then how did you escape their demeaning ways?”

He stood there and then his face smirked as it became a smile, he grabbing at his belted jeans and tugged them down to give me the sight of what the Sisters did to him.

“Marla, that zoophobia bitch likes to toy with what a male has and she does not, she does with them all the other sisters have said. As of me, to keep me silenced, I like Harold they see a need for some trusted janitor to clean up their filthy messes. It was Marla who met me first and with her showing me a large book, she read to me a rhyme. Rhyme Hell, it was a spell, she made of me a mixed breed mutt, most of me here is as a Doberman dog. As what she finds delightful and demands me to service her at least once each week, has me then sniff her crotch and my mind changes to that of a dog and I must mate.

I rut her with a bestial vengeance, and she takes it, has with our mating made my penis the red hot cock of a dog, and has since increased its length enough for it to reach her depths of wilder desires.

Like is Harold Ames and we cannot roam far from here lest we become completely the animal they the sisters deemed we to be someday anyway.”

Tugging back up his jeans to cover the smooth fur coating his doggish sheath and lower belly, he turned, and looking to what was as the living room of what all David had as furniture, noticed there on the floor the there books taken from the sisters.

“The spell ledger,” he stated when seeing and having seen them when Marla read her rhyme and made of him in sensual part a Doberman dog. He walked into the room and sat down, looking at, and paging over a page he read it.

He paused to give one a reading, then reading the spell binding that could make from a wishful male human, to become as a pony stallion or something other, knew then of what was me that he understanding I did this to me, and wanted it as being permanent, me remaining as just such a favored animal.

The big books captured his interests and he gathering them together did pull from a pocket one black plastic garbage bag, he slipped it over the books. He then turned round and went walking out into the hallway, seemingly as planning to tote them down to his truck.

”Whoa,” I said loudly, and stopped the young man as he walked along the hall. “And where are you taking these books?” I asked of him, he seemingly as surprised from me asking.

“Huh, well you made use of them already, you are changing, and even now I can see more of you as changing. One look at you and by tomorrow morning I would expect to see out back in a pen one very perfect stallion pony. You have no more need of these, and my taking them might well find a way of changing me back to being human!” He said, and so saying I had to agree, as with hearing of me still changing, I felt my elongated ears turn and with a hand did comb through a growing mane along the back of my neck.

Sighing to the realization of what was to become of me no matter what, I said to him, “Take them, and make good use of them!”

He left the floor and soon the building; I stood at a window and watched him drive away. Turning I stood facing she, the Demoness. Her face had the expression of one peeved as from what I did letting the magic books leave the premises.

Clawed armed hands took a firm grip on my shoulders and she forced me to hunch down, almost as if I could kneel with having the hind legs of a pony. She said nothing, but what she wanted of me to do became obvious, as if to repent or quell her anger with me, she wanted some sensual servicing.

A firm hand to the back of my head, she forced my face and muzzle by then to compress against her vile stinking vagina. Her hand rocked my face and thickening lips, as if for me to reach my longer tongue and begin by service licking of her. It was not what I would want to do, but by her power I was becoming a strikingly fine form of a pony stallion; something I wanted so much and for so long, I knew not when the delighted idea began.

Time means nothing to devils and demons, as it went on as I did service her, doing a factual cleaning of her and into the depths beyond those tight black lips of demonic sex. I began in that morning but it was dark outside when she finally pushed me away and stood there eying me. I had changed more! I stood not needing to be hunched down on hind legs, but stood by then on four legs, with hoofs not hands or toes.

My head and face had finished changing too, and with a much longer a neck I began to turn my head and with one eye or the other gained a look at what all she made of me.

Seeing was as much a sensation that began a feeling, an arousal, and as a pony stallion it was the instinctive notion to gain an erection. I felt it coming, the head of my pony cock protruding out the sheath was as much a wild sensation as would be feeling the cock gain bulk and becoming stoutly erect.

The Demoness smiled, she putting her black hands to her face did cough up some spit and spitting it and the green mucus she took hold then with her gooey hands to stroking my cock. They warm slime she stroked on my cock made it feel excitedly more sensual.

“This is my manner of giving you a proper blessing. My spit does that to a male member. Your pony cock is now something demonic as sanctified, your circumcision is gone and with it the grace granted by Heaven. I have by my blessing to you gifted your life path to be one of exceptional length. A common born pony might live thirty years, a human as three score and ten, but you by so lovingly servicing of me I desire for you to live a long life, long as in aging the equal of one year to ten. In essence you should as born a human and being a pony live some seven hundred years! Imagine the frolicking fun of forever being as a young stud stallion, mating with thousands of mares and being alert, human of mind and knowing of what you do.”

I felt more than delighted and then aroused, my cock ached for a release of semen, and with hearing the length of my coming pony existence being in hundreds of years the cock erupted with a massive flow. Spurting five long and great streams of cum and semen, enough to plaster my fore legs and the floor beyond, she laughed, applauded me, and stroked her hands about my neck.

It was finished, the changing complete, and with it I was then as the wondrous a prefect pony stallion.

Seemingly as much delighted with how I became and looked as delighted too, she, the Demoness sat down before me. We as then face to face, she smiling did ask of me if I had one lasting request.

A long moment of thought, my thinking about the future and what would give me a tickling, I said then with my mind as the mouth was made mostly just to feed my body.

“In a request as thanks for making of me what I find delightful and willing to do whatever you want and have for me a need, I request then that by my mind I can make mental contact and converse with ponies and humans. As part of this contacting it is for something you shall delight with, that of alluring said such people to want what is me for them, and they to suckle me, swallowing my infecting seed, would as well change, becoming all as mare ponies for me to breed!”

An almost scowling Demoness face changed to a smile of admiration, she giving a nod of her head did agree, and as I would learn of it, I had the mental ability to converse as inflict a desire to want of me to mate. In times to come and beginning very soon I would converse and convince a mare to want me to mate her. I would within my first month then coax a young woman to want to suckle my cock and from it soon would join me as a mare for my herd.

Born a human, how from my meeting of the Sisters was I turned to doing the desired will of the devils. I live for the feeling of my most bestial a sensual sensations. I give of infecting equine semen to mares and make my herd grow. I have for they who come and whether by some mental coaxing or of their own volition, wish to suck and swallow stallion semen. They I will reward with something more than their wildest hope.

As he expected, come the very next morning I stood as a pony stallion in a pen there behind the apartment building. In my hopeful pony mind I was expecting to see Hazel drive up in her truck and take me to live with David. The janitor, he told me then his first name as being Lee, had met then the Sisters that morning, they leaving for a Sabbath coven meeting, knew not of me being in the holding pen.

As we conversed, me mentally to him and he as much verbally back to me, there drove up a truck, on it read the name of where it came from, that being as Sunrise Research Foundation.

Two husky men jumped out from the truck cab and came walking directly to meet me. They said a quick greeting to Lee, and fixing a head halter on me, clipped a rein to it, and opening the gate, tugged me, lead me into the stock truck bay.

Not a word did they convey to me, it was on blatant trust of the Demoness and her words of promised long life that I went along for the ride. I did not worry, as to worry about the future is like wondering if the sun shall rise or set. So imagine then of my surprise when arriving to a large farm of the same name as on the truck, and there they placed me in a rather large and lavish stall. On the stall door frame was my new name, “Squire of Dartmoor,” my future had arrived.