Around The Campfire - II

Published: Jan 1st, 2012
Last Edit: Apr 28th, 2015


What began as a Halloween weekend fun fandango camping boys molesting girls becomes dire situations and likely a cursed doom for all...


welsh (1) devil (1) horse (0) ponies (0) satyress (0) magic (0) spellbound (0) potion (0) goat (0) cursed (0) witches (0)
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Chapter II 



Shanna struggled with the Demon master of the witches coven, trying desperately to keep her virginity, humanity, and sanity. Her boyfriend Jack walked cautiously along the forest pathway, as he came to a huge old Oak tree, and from his walk felt the urge to relieve a full bladder. Taking a personal moment, he stood with feet spread apart slightly, unzipping his jeans, and with an urgent need, his fingers dug out into the night, his maleness he had hoped to show to Shanna.

He licked at dry lips. Eyes blinking back the sleepiness from a long day made longer from the searching to find Shanna. In the dim light, he tried to look and see through dank humid darkness there in the forest. As he stood leaning with one hand pressed against that Oak tree, he let go his flow. What he saw coming from behind the tree was a white hand. The hand held a short black stick, Jack wondering, stood there mesmerized. He watched it move closer to his raining penis, as it so lightly did touch his circumcised tip.

Suddenly an alert sensation flashed through Jack as some awareness he never felt before. His ears perked up to listen, nose twitched to sniff of smells he would otherwise have ignored.

Then he heard a voice speaking softly as if from the opposite side of the large Oak tree, as said, “You are as mine… now! Deemed are you to become as my new mount to carry me to and from the Sabbath meetings, I shall change you, you shall become as is a horse. You as my horse, a horse by night and day, as well a stallion, you being soon as of the Percheron breed. You can feel it beginning! Already do you smell of things around you, as you can hear with longer, pointed furry ears! The deep sense of becoming physically muscular, your skin becoming a thick hide, hair sprouting, soon covering you is a pelt of dappled gray, white and black to make you a striking beautiful horse.

Yes, yes feel it coming within your body, breathe deeply, experience the sense of strength, massive sensed power in hind legs, you like what you feel. Rise up, stand forward, see and appreciate what were weak arms are now forelegs, hands becoming sound as solid hoofs. Of head, face, nose, mouth, eyes, ears, your neck gains length, new muscles, and a strong broad back for me to ride. The coming is soon of you being an animal, accept it, delight at you bestially, the lusts, desire, wanting to dominate.

To endure from tonight on to the day, your changing continues, you are as a colt, but by sunrise be then of size and form a yearling. I shall ride you, when we get to where I have my home it shall be yours as well, you in the barn, your stall. Come noon tomorrow a mature two-year-old horse shall you be as knowing you are handsome and liking it, a stallion willing and ready to breed with mares.

Yes mares, females like you but they are what you feel a need to dominate. Prance now, feeling the ground beneath those hoofs, the spring in your step, gain heart, lungs, and wish to do whatever I say.

Easy big fellow, calm is thy inhabitation, what you feel is your tail flicking, sweeping the coarse hairs across a smooth, muscular rounded rump. Feeling the tickling at what until now never saw the light of day, the warmth of the sun and the chill of rain.

Fear is normal of what you mind cannot fathom to understand, but all is well, you are looking fine, changed are you, come walk with me my gallant mount.

I am Toluca, not that you can speak my name, as speech for you is to whinny. I am your master…, and a young witch. I am married to a good man, he owning a large Amish farm where you being as a big Percheron horse will feel right at home.”

Jack turned and twisted, he did as had felt the surging rush of many changes. Bones, his skeletal form conforming to the wishes and words said by Toluca. As he gained mass, becoming equine muscular it felt as an enjoyable rush, a thrill, wondrous in all its changing him into a thing of beauty and muscle.

Part of what he was felt a want to cry out for help, horrified, but the sensations and strange then his sensed lusty ideas held him in check. Jack felt then the desire to respect Toluca. He knew a want to do, as she would ask, he realized she to be a witch, and that then oddly added to him a sense of pride.

Sensations during his changing, the growing of him into what he was, his clothing tore, bursting from off his massive new form; yet such did not concern, being naked was just fine a way for him to be. A bigger body, stout legs, a thrill as delight in him to live life, as to the fullest of his possible endeavors, the world was his!

Prancing, Jack shivered, delighted, his tail swatting briskly, a shake of his long mane, he snorted and the sound as the feel scared him. A soft patting of his neck by her hand and his fear subsided, courage returning, he stared into the forest dark, smelling the smoke from the bonfire.

Exciting the sensations, Jack wanted more, and turning his great head, he pressed his face and forehead at Toluca, showing her his admiration and the new love he felt for her, his master, owner, and his witch!

Huffing, as he would breathe, taking in deeper and hefty gulps of air through huge nostrils, all reasons of any sense of anxiety faded, Jack was and liked what he felt by being a Percheron stallion.

Fear ruled the dark of night in a forest boiling of evil and those who had the power to wheel it to their own diverse desires, did as they pleased and had need. Jack was beyond caring about the others, he was all that mattered and of what he felt a need, that was what counted. If not for the acclimation spellbinding done to his mind and spirit, he would be dwelling on the horror a person would know, seeing as their human self became a mass of muscle, new bones, and black, thick hide, covering their identity with a cloak of horsehair!

Expanding nostrils, thickening lips, enlarged tongue, all different teeth, while his head aching of it swelling, Jack felt as of ears changing position, not sure if they were longer, surely more sensitive to sounds, all of what was him seemed proper to his purpose. He craning his then muscular neck and huge head, cast a look behind, seeing his broad hairy back, the whisking tail flicking, and he new for sure as certain he was indeed a horse.

Aroused by his sensations, jack began to salivate, spit foaming about his think lips, he chewed his teeth, wriggled his tongue inside a larger mouth. Jack swallowed his spit, a thirst, a dry mouth he needed a drink and began sniffing the air in search for water.

“Easy there big fellow, oh you felt thirst, well come with me, be calm as a stream flows through where is the meeting place, you can get a refreshing drink there.” Toluca said, and Jack listening to her his passion for water quelled, he walked beside her again, approaching the meeting place and relief.

Walking on all fours seemed so righteous to Jack. Much of what at the firs seemed foreign, became commonplace. In his blending of memories, he seemed to remember a woman he respected. She was different then he, as if she were a mare, and like his mare, a mothering type. She as did he then live in a place of splendor, having much of what he liked and desired, was rich. He had forgotten much of his human past, fading memories of what was, since what became as was did not fit the form of being human.

Walking, Jack lowered his head, cocking it, eying with wonder at what in memory seemed different, but undeniable that proper for him being a horse. He had to fight his own mental pictures of what became from arms to be legs, and hands that he saw and knew to be his hoofs.

Everything happened with such a fury, as of powers directed and sped to change him, it took but a few minutes…, “minutes what are they,” Jack pondered. Words in his mind began to lose meaning and in him, he knew the loss as ignorance forcing him to become in all as an animal, a beast of the fields. Of and in his waning memory, Jack realized a felt thrill remained unchanged. He had some intelligence from his past wealth of learned knowledge from many years of schooling. It aided him to understand his sensed plight. He had many why thoughts that bothered him, being and knowing him then a horse remained a question as how he would learn to exist.

As the changes quelled from the rushed onslaught, as from in his groin spread a sensation, kindling a thought, sparking a memory as of his pet horse Johnson. “Johnson, he a Quarter-horse gelding, when seeing Jack come became aroused, and let drop his monstrous male member. Jack would laugh seeing him and it, but down deep, he held a wish fervent of him to have one like it, using it to tickle him and his many lady friends.

Prancing and happy, his thoughts and the scent of Toluca began arousing from his groin a weighty sensation that grew, bloomed, stiffened, and wagged stiffly as he walked beside her. What all he felt and liked of his self, his form, Jack begging, hoped this newness he felt was of something permanent.

The burst of glow from a roaring bonfire surrounded by women, a large goat, and some other horses watching, Toluca walked her new friend into the circle.

What wonders felt in Jack subsided. The thrills he felt imploded, dredging up what he remembered of his beginning to change. He then stood aware and alert of all senses, knowing he had changed, become as it is an animal, a horse, a stallion, but of it he knew he was loving it!

She, Toluca his mistress master and a witch, she who caused his physical de-evolution of form held then there before his face a thing he knew of as a bridle used to control him. He wanted to turn and run, but something more forced Jack to deny his instincts. Whatever she asked of him, Toluca, he could not deny her anything, she placing on him the bridle, fitting a metal bit in his mouth, and of leather straps, a saddle on his back, she cinching it snug, fitted about his belly felt tight.

Jack screamed an elated whinny, as right then he felt not like a slave but more akin to a friend and companion to his witch.

"Come with me Jack, what you were is no more, and of what you are is as what you shall remain until the second coming of Christ or death, which ever might come first!" Toluca said, she spellbinding her stallion and mount to do as she willed, knowing that the acclimation portion of her spell made Jack delighted with his prospects of becoming a horse.

The bright flash of yellow power and glow lit the far reaches of that blackened forest. In the instant of it all, Katie saw then Jack swell to becoming huge, and his body then forming something she knew he was not!

"Jack," Katie had screamed, she seeing what she could not reckon as possible, but seeing believes, and from it, she turned and ran. Running as a scared person, instinctive in the general direction of where they had camped, parked the vehicle, and she thinking only of returning to the safety of home.

Bella smiled with admiration for what Toluca had made of Jack. Seeing the stallion as aroused, she motioned for Toluca to present her mount to the Grand Master.

Toluca climbed into the saddle on Jack, she giving him a heeling nudge at his flanks, as he trotted forward, feeling pride in she who rode him into a place of honor.

"Bye-bye, see you next month," Toluca, said as she holding the reins controlled her enthused stallion. Jack liked what he became and feeling the undeniable urges from his equine animal body, it tweaked at his mind, he pranced eagerly, readily and wishing to know what all his horse form and bestial life had to offer.

==============Farewell Jack - Hello Paul========

Paul too saw the brightness not too far to his left. He thinking it an explosion, fell face down to the ground, expecting a shock wave to strike him with whatever remained of Jack to splatter in his direction. When nothing of what he expected to happened, he rolled face up, ready to get to his feet and move toward where he thought to find Jack.

Lying face up, Paul saw then his chest as straddled by the slim legs of a beautiful woman.

As from where he lay, he could see her, seeing more of what he would wish he had never seen.

"Paul that is your name,” Asked she a witch of great renown. She settled her body to kneel and sit then upon the chest of the man she planned to grant a new purpose for life.

Surprised, Paul lay looking up at a face of what he knew not was then a powerful witch, but thought of her as if she were some wild woman, a forest-wandering nymphomaniac.

"Ah hello to you too, and from what should I accept, as to my reason of me wandering out here in this forest, it would otherwise be a pleasure to make your acquaintance!" Paul remarked, doing so polite, correct, while usually a smart ass.

The pretty woman looked down at him her prey and victim. Her eyes stared at and into the teal green eyes of Paul. She smiled at hearing what he said, and so thought he from his male attitude, he did like her sitting on his chest.

"Quick of wit, I like that quality in those friends who give me what I want, do as what I wish, and be willing for whenever I have need of a fun ride to one of our coven Sabbaths!" The witch said, her soft tone seemingly that of a love lusting woman, but her words told Paul he was in the presence of likely a nut case.

Just not too sure, as of what all this woman had in mind, Paul had a quick thought to test her. She did well to hold him down, although appearing as a slim female human, and he being an athletic type, he with his muscular strength seemed an easy match to anything she planning had, unless she were some sort of marshal arts expert.

Paul eyed this female as a possible companion, taking due note of her near see-through vale of clothing. He liked the look of her tapered breasts, and eying down to the way she sat on him, her seemingly lack of underwear offered him a faint view of a place he would love to explore. Trying her plan for him, Paul took in a deep breath and exhaled it not as to sigh, but to poignant blowing at where his eyes wished to see more.

Again, she smiled, "Masculine lust, an excellent perquisite for being a real stud! Dare you become as my stallion, as a stud, being at stud, and promise always to service me as how I wish, as when I have a need?" She asked, a witch, her words held unforeseen meanings to an aroused Paul. He like his friends enjoyed many fun times, and from what all she said it seemed she wanted for her chosen, him as her willing male.

Paul was about to affirm her question in a positive response, when from far ahead in the forest he heard what sounded like Shanna screaming. The lusty intriguing moment needed to wait, his purpose was to find and keep safe Shanna from any harm. Paul began struggling to get this young woman from off of his chest. Paul tried to twist and roll over, but oddly, the young female seemed as if rooted to the ground, like she weighed a sheer ton.

"It is Shanna, my friend she is in trouble. I must go to her, help... her..." Paul said, and as he did the legs holding his arms tight to his sides did tighten there grip, keeping him firmly pinned and constrained from getting up.

"Please, let me up!" Paul said his tone of voice as one pleading to gain his freedom and with urgency in his needs.

Just then, another anguished scream becoming a shrill baaing bleat of a frantic animal echoed the dark forest. A horse whinny responded to the bleated cry. How odd, Paul thought as he laid there helpless, the whinny, it sounded somewhat like Jack, but as the cry died away, Paul thought of it as not a yell for help but a whinny of some animal delighted.

"Jack, Shanna, my friends they are in trouble..." Paul groaned, he struggled to get up, and go to his friends.

The young woman continued to sit seated seductively upon the chest of Paul. She hearing him and knew of his worry, did begin her self to laugh, laughing in an uproarious manner.

"You worry for your friends, forget them, they need not be your concern, our coven will see to that!

As of you, I would have you like they; soon shall you be with them. I would make you an offer, something you can be of help to me, fulfilling for me a need. If you do it with willful delight, I shall allow as well the retaining your learned knowledge. As of what is yet to come, as what you would wish to delight in sets before you. Once you have tongued me with pleasurable feeling, your preference shall then change, turning to an undeniable lust for hairy rumps, high-set tails, and the winking lips of horny mares." Said the witch, she staring down at a very then surprised Paul, he wide eyed, mouth open, had heard her words but could not believe his ears.

"Enough now, you toyed with him too long a time, the sun returns and time is wasting. Take him, as soon the sun and with it, your powers over him will weaken. Now is his time, do what you must and let us then join the coven!" Said a voice from behind where the witch sat on the chest of Paul. Her voice terse, words threatening, and Paul felt he too was in dire trouble.

Waving hands before the face of Paul, not touching him directly, but making him feel as if his whole face and head, as bathed in something strange. She spoke a chant, the words Paul knew as of the Latin language, something he had to take as a course in college. A thing he thought was a waste of his otherwise valuable time. He could do nothing but to listen to the singing chant. Paul took note of some words. His remembering the ancient language had it limits, he having cheated when tested in the class, buying a copy of the examination before the testing date.

”Conjure, servitude, animal, horse, breed, stallion, her-stud, he property, and forever,” these Paul heard said, his quick thinking mind interpreted them, granting him some insight for what all was to come. Instilled with fear, he struggled to get up. As just suddenly his strength ceased, as from his face, neck, shoulders, arms, hands, torso, and hips, to legs, feet and even his toes he felt his entire body stiffen.

He lay there barely able to draw a breath to continue breathing. His eyes stared upward as from the view came the sight of seeing four other women crowding around him. The women varied drastically, as from the pretty and petite personage seated on his chest, to one less than pretty as a wrinkled face of weather worn skin. They did then look to Paul as if they might be witches.

A stiffened body began to weaken, softening as if even his skeletal frame became as if clay ready for molding something new.

As the pretty woman stood up and standing away but facing toward where Paul had his feet, the older woman, a haggard face old gal with a toothless grin, took then a blanket and lay it down, using it to covering first his face, and then all of him.

Panicking, his sense of horror and memories poured through his mind, Paul wondering if he was about to live or die in a real life episode of "Friday the Thirteenth!"

"Erg...," moaned Paul, the blanket smelled like hay, horse crap, and sweat. Just as he thought of how he hated what covered him, he felt a jolting. A sudden shocking surge in his entirety, his body, arms, and legs felt of a swelling sensation, as if his whole body were bloating!

Softened arms jammed out and up straight and feeling alive with muscle and massive strength, he never knew he had. It happened to his legs, as they too rose up at a 90-degree angle to where he laid. Worse and rather painful of it all was how he felt his head, as if great hands were molding it anew, changing contours and the shape of his skull.

Faint breathing ability turned then into eased breathing, an availed feeling as if Paul could drink in a wealth of air and expel it, helping him to running. Slowly but with an obvious resolve his strength return into his body, but feeling different, as if the purpose of his life had drastically changed.

When someone drew back the blanket from it covering his face, he stared, straining his eyes to see, wondering what all these women had done to him.

"He is quite refined, an excellent example of your growing abilities within our coven!" The older woman said, she being the one Paul thought looked like a hag witch in the play Macbeth, as written by Shakespeare.

As the rug moved away, inching down and along the torso of Paul, his stiff body and outreached arms, he saw instead as forelegs with hoofs. Afraid, he peered down and saw shoulders belonging properly to some grown horse.

"Ha, you are the sexist witch, look as how your' spell endowed him, golly Moses woman, you do like your rides to be studs!" Said there one of the still prettier women, and she saying so just when Paul felt the blanket drawn from across his maleness, it caused in him a feel of excitement, arousing from his groin a monster.

Excitement mixed with panic and a wild sense to roll over, stand up and if possible, run, and run away from these strange women. Excitement added blood, it filling and expanding out of a soft skin sheath what somehow Paul knew he had then the male organ like of a stallion.

The coming of a black leather strap halter, with silver stars adorning it, Paul realized as being a horse bridle, and for a changed mouth there was a brass bit to control a strong and vibrant animal, that being Paul! When they had fitted him with the bit and bridle, a tug on his head and like he knew perfectly well how to stand. Doing what seemed and felt, as he should, Paul scrambled his legs and rose to stand above the women.

Wild his sensations, all new feelings, and he felt only slightly a sense of humiliation for his huge male organ that hung swaying with his every move and turn.

"Rosie, what have you done, this one is as your last horse, and you do like your draft horse Palominos!" One of the witches there stated, not that at that moment did Paul pay the comment about him much attention. He felt and had a raging hard-on, was trying to deal with a want then to find a mare willing.

"Palomino, you dummy, he like my previous horse is a Haflinger! See his colors are like a Palomino, but long, big, and strong. If he came home as something else, a different new horse it would bring comment, from neighbors, but as well the stingy husband. No, it is good to have what was and as well liked, worked well, he could pull a wagon, work with another in harness, or get ridden to our meetings." Rosie replied, she talking as if to a sister.

"By the Master but he looks well fed, like had grazed all week!" Said the older witch, she speaking in a gravelly voice, as worn in tone, as was her face weather by the passing of time.

"Oh Granny Marburg, he is just like my first! Just as I had Ryan yesterday, he grazed all the day in the pasture knowing I would ride him hard at night. He was full, so when spellbinding this one, he got what Ryan ate. It will help him later too, when he gets to the stable he should need to crap, and the stench of that should influence the horse instincts. Once he smells his droppings, I should have a contented and thoroughly happy horse, willing to work, right thrilled to breed a mare." Rosie said, her comments made perfect sense to Paul, he heard them and from it, the early standards to thinking as would a horse began to make sense.

As if the whole situation suddenly lost all volatility to his manner of thinking it a horror, Paul calmed so, his erection softened, compressing back up and into his sheath.


"Hey look!"

"Yea, big boy you got the fears under control, you actually find being as is a horse as something delightful. It is the first big hurtle to leap, once the fighting against what will never be again is over, the living begins and with it comes intense pleasure, the like and kind you as a young man would not have known." Rosie explained to Paul, he listening to her, nuzzled his horse face to ample breasts, and snuffle a loving tone.

"You do have your ways with the males, Rosie!" Granny Marburg said, she too patting the horse on his stout strong neck, stroking down it and along his backbone.

"He likes you Granny, your stroking his back is giving him another erection!"

"To Hell with you Gwen, he does it almost without a thought, all stallions do, heck even some of those geldings remember when they had their balls. If he likes anything, no matter how small, he gets an erection equal to how much it is his thrill. See, see there it stopped, just a short few inches, he is holding it flaccid, his cock hung out, and the head almost looks like his Christian circumcision as if still fixed in place.”

With his first flick flap and slap of the tail, it seemed to Paul as feeling different but something rather nice. He continued swaying the tail, giving a swat of it to slap his broad flanks. The witches so noted the tail action, doing their utmost to keep out the way; they knowing that letting the changeling learn his new bodily abilities helped later to make a fine stallion stud of what once walked the earth as do men.

Taunted along the forest pathway, Paul found his inklings tended toward trying to constantly look for foliage, nipping at almost anything, the flavors varied as what was sweet he liked and found appreciation.

Even as a proud Rosie O'Donnell led her new horse, Paul a horse walked with haste, he enthused at the learning of all there was to know about him being a horse.

"Easy now Paul, you walk with me, those new sensations and a host of instinctive ideas will sift in and mean more to you come the daytime. I know what you are feeling, to be sure, as I tried it once and became a horse mare!

For me it was a foolish idea that, I learned to like the raw sensation though, as you will too! Had a lovely time of it for nearly two weeks, then a stallion jumped the fence, snookered me his mare into a corner, and when there was no escape. I gave in, and enjoyed his size and depth, delighted, as a mare knows from mating.

So I got pregnant, had to carry the foal to birthing, thought it was over, or did until came then Granny Marburg. She acted, as would a midwife, helping a mare who knew nothing about birthing a foal, she talked, consoled, and needed to pull the foal out a scared mare and into the stall.

My thought that was all of it, but Granny knew from experience, and informed of coming months weaning the foal and guiding it until the filly began grazing on her own. A year and ten months of my life being as a horse and mare, it was an experience! I almost lost...well never you mind, one thing for sure it shall not happen again." Rosie speaking to her spellbound stallion as this seemed the right time for doing so!

As she almost blurted out what might have happened to her and assuredly would be his future fate, she changed the subject. As she said, "Why, when the instincts begin forming and after you try breeding of mares, in just short while, 10 to 12 months give or take, the encroachment of equine instincts and what is you then as a horse would not know or care if ever you could be again a human.

Rosie had felt a little sad for Paul, as she knocked him down, sat on him, he was a hunk of a young man, what some girls consider a dream come to life.

"Hey Rosie, you made yourself quite a fine stallion, you think he is a little large, as for being a sex toy?" Asked one of the younger witches, she new at the crafty stuff, her big thrill was changing men and when they were animals, she toyed with them, taunting them into passionate desires.

"Golly Judy, not every man you come in contact with needs become as an animal for fun and frolic. You had your big flings, liking doggies, on occasion enjoying a buck goat; you own a Shetland pony stallion, Kenny his name as I remember. Gee, but he was a neat man, too bad you spellbound him to be forever just a sex fiend of a pony. From when and then if anybody who comes to your house and Kenny climbs the fence, he stands sporting an erection and cries for someone to come and let him mate.

No, no this fellow Paul is for better things, he is well endowed, and unless you think of becoming a mare for two or more years, the suggestion is to leave him alone, understand...hmmm!" Rosie said, she greeted by a horny little witch, their talking Paul understood, and even from his own changes, he would be glad to let the pretty witch come and taunt him erect.

A parade of witches rejoined the other coven members, they still watching the Grande Master giving his best and all up and into Shanna.

"Nice mount, Haflinger again, looks good Rosie, the other fellow became a dark dappled Percheron there, no others, and we lost eleven rides home, some here about need then to get walking." Granny Marburg said when seeing Rosie leading her newest horse.

"The other female ran off, got away to where they camped on the bluff overlooking the river. Shall we send a couple after her; they have time enough yet before the break of day." Rosie asked Granny, she respected this, her elder witch.

Granny took a deep inhaled breath, held it for a long minute, then sighed, saying, "No, best not bother, she is even now getting into the new car what belonged to Paul, a black Jeep Patriot, something his rich father gave him for his recent birthday."

"How, how do you see that all, you showed us, but try as tried again, the visions do not come in the same manner or with such detail." Rosie replied, she wanted to learn and doing so from Granny meant likely a higher ranking in the cover in years to come.

"The vision of the girl running was still in the air, but the information about the Jeep came from your horse pondering the fact he shall never again need, want, or drive a car." Granny replied to Rosie asking, they stood then seeing the Grande Master finishing his indoctrination of Shanna.

Almost at the same instant, Paul perked his ears to take a listening of some sound. Several of the witches heard it too, and they looked to Granny Marburg for guidance.

============="Guests Arrive"===================

"Sisters, sisters, we have guests watching us, they heard the commotion, and came seeking to find whether it be of fun or some whoring. Go now, seek them, five fine young males, should make good mounts or at least offer you a fun ride home." Granny said, she waving her hands as several of the younger witches scurried off into the pucker brush.

Brothers, lying hidden under some bushes, were there Terry, Thomas, Timothy, Terrell, and Tyler, they being five brothers born as sextuplets to their parents. They were on a camping weekend, all just having had their eighteenth birthday. The five did everything together, closer they were since the disappearance of the sister Topeka. She had gone for one of her daily jogging sessions though the forested foothill paths and failed to return home.

Out in the forest dark, were five brothers camping nearer than a safe distance from where witches and victims were at a bonfire. One of the brothers saw the brilliant yellow glow of power, not imagining that from it made a man happy to become an animal. Seeing the bright flash first, Terry alerted his sleepy brothers, and they jumped awake, ready to seek some adventure.

Thrill seeking has its dangers, and Terry having coaxed his brothers along to follow him, the five running single file through the forest, they came to a knoll overlooking the scene of witch women having an orgy around some overly large goat.

They too saw the rope line where tethered to it stood those who the witches rode there, all transformed people, some considered as if in their new permanent forms, as others spellbound for that one night.

Too far from the Sabbath happenings to hear what was said, but at a height enough to be witnesses to what all the debauchery those there attending played a part. Terror filled each the chest of five brothers, they saw the Grande Master and Granny Marburg conversing. Thomas recognized one woman, she his occasional boss, as he did work for Granny Marburg. He mowed her lawn during spring, summer, and fall, as during winter would shovel snow off her driveway and sidewalks. He was a witness to the goings on and did tell his brothers of how Granny would talk with him after he worked for her. She spoke in a sly manner, always asking him of one question, asking him if of the animals on her farm, which one he liked the best.

The sight of a pointing arthritic finger motioning for the host of witches to go after the five brothers was enough for them to do a turnabout and run.

Tabitha Guthrie, a young witch of 19 years in age took the lead and she running like would a deer through the forest, she darted past the running brothers to get ahead of them, ready for when her coven sisters might come and capture their quarry.

The brothers knew they were too far from home, and quite a distance from where they camped. The five brothers knew their plight seemed futile. Even if they returned to where they camped, there was nothing there to fend off such dangers as witchery women. Especially frightening to all but Tyler was the thought if caught, changed into an animal.

Near to a mile into the forest, they had walked a distance from where they parked the van to the encampment, their favored place. Three tents pitched near a babbling creek filled with hungry Trout, a dinner each brother liked served from an iron skillet and fried in butter. Terry being the boldest of the five took charge so often, but this time he had led his brothers into more than mischief.

Turning to run from a danger so terrible, Tyler the fleet footed brother then took the lead, his brothers following, each scared. They fearful and properly so, if the witches were to catch them, what then, would they live their lives pulling plows, or under a saddle?

Tricky in his thinking, Tyler thought as he took the lead to run his brothers to some place safe, He knew the encampment held no special protection. He motioned his brothers to break away from the trail, and to follow him, he knowing that forest woods like the back of his hand.

Tabitha arrived at where the brothers camped. She slipped inside the large tent, and sat waiting there to spring upon them when they would return.

Tyler thought the same way, but knew the best place to go was from where one escaped. He led his brothers on a long end run, turning as they encircled the Sabbath campfire; they soon lay on the ground again, watching then the Grande Goat Master finding his spellbinding of Shanna as a fruitless plan to enslave a pretty person.

Together the brothers lay watching, each excited from the thrill of their chase, while at the age then to know some sense of appreciation for the sensual debauchery. What they had seen at a distance as later up close, was their unfolding adventure. They the lesser of caution, were foolish and forgetting what they had seen, were as soon to join the few who could never retell their tale of woe.

All watched as Granny Marburg stood behind Shanna, she stripped naked by the coven, was held by two strong witches, awaiting the more pleasures of the Grande Master.

The excitement became a fevered adventure, as from a different vantage point the five brothers lay viewing the scene below them. The brothers watched, each feeling his increased concern twist into robust infatuation and an stiff erection. They stared at Bella and her standing aside the Grande Master. All there worked to prepare Shanna for her final time of changing into a sexual toy for likely the Demon goat.

"Try to accept what you know is inevitable, oh sweet Shanna..., you lack nothing now but the body to fulfill your passion for lust in any man, male animal, or the Grande Master," said Bella for Shanna and all there to hear.

She took a stride step forward, the Demon doing the same with obvious intent of him impaling Shanna upon that large goat buck shaped demonic prong. The Demon planned to disgrace Shanna, deflowering her body, mind and eating her soul.

“Come any closer to me and this time I will bite off your big cock, you, you nanny goat…, fucker! Shanna said, she in a rage and the Demon, his cock tip having the teeth marks from his last try at defaming a pretty girl.

The sights of an impending renewed orgy had the Demon playing his part and Shanna hers, as two witches knelt and grabbed her ankles, spreading her legs for the Demon to enter easier his victim.

Shanna snarled, she brazening her young teeth, they sharp enough to do him painful harm. The Demon stood his ground, he dared not move closer to Shanna, his leaking pre touched where she bit him, the wound burned and he yowled. Angered, with his strength he walked away, and gave Granny a harsh push as she tried to step away. She stumbled over a tree root, falling on her big butt, the sight of which made five brothers laugh, as laughing a bit too loudly.

Two things happened then together, as from hearing the brothers laugh, the elder witches ran toward where they thought the boys were hiding. The Demon turned round and faced Shanna. He stared at her, continuing to consider his plan to debauch Shanna of her purity, faith, and need for religion. He knew if he could disgrace her before higher an authority, she would forget her faith and go to him of her free will. He wanted her, knowing how tight she was, she as of her age, would last quite a while before vaginal walls loosened, and her use as a sex toy passed then him on to find someone new, tight, and thrilling.



"She got nice tits," remarked Terry, as he with his brother took off with due haste, running as young males can, they left the elder witches eating the dust from their running. He ran on and failed to heed his brothers calling to him, as they took a fork in the path and he ran on alone.

Running, Terry happened to look back, wondering to see how far back to where his brothers when he saw not a sole. He slowed his pace only to be looking over his shoulder and all around except at what stood ahead of him.

There standing on the path was sly Tabitha had sat in the tent until she used her telepathic ability and heard the "Nice tits," remark said by Terry. She then ran like her deer friends and stood blocking the path that Terry just run. He turned to look ahead and she was there, "Thud!"

Terry awoke looking skyward, he seeing much of his vision as blocked by two nicely contoured, furry tits, the breasts belonging to Tabitha. He being at that age when boys learn why best they should like girls, a furry tit puckered the nipple she held near his mouth as he smiled and began to give it a sucking.

As Tabitha sat straddling his chest, she lowering her right tit, wanted the lad to suck it. 

The tit sucking slowed and Terry laid quiet, calm, as motionless.

"I am sorry," said Tabitha to Terry, "You are the same age as me, but I am a member in a coven of witches, and they expect me to show on mercy. Tonight we all lost out favorite mounts and or those we ride, and ride to the Sabbath meeting. We lost our horses, our mounts and ride to the meeting, and cannot spellbind them back to being what they were. This all because of what that sweet girl Shanna gave each a talisman.

You like sucking my breast, I like it too and would if you were not going to fret, I would make of you a ride and a plaything, interested?" Tabitha asked young Terry, she feeling his arousal pressing at her groin.

Terry had seen enough to know if he were disagreeable, his future could get a great deal more dank and dim, so he nodded his head as if to agree.

"Good for you," said Tabitha, "Sit up, remove all your clothing and stand then on all fours to be ready for my casting upon you a grandiose spell."

Terry did quickly as asked, he wearing but jeans and a T-shirt, no underwear as they were as too binding; he liked the feel of freedom.

"Ha, a freedom lover, well soon enough you will know greater freedom, without humiliation, for being then refined of conformation as my new Welsh pony. A stallion shall you become, and be my ride to the meetings and an occasional lover with me in your stall." Tabitha said to Terry, if she could make use of him, it was to her ideals he work and giving her much fun pleasures.

A spell and an index finger touched to the forehead of her victim, as what began the pathway to change for Terry. The feel of her touching him and his body jerked violently. Repulsed by the forces that willed what was a young male human to conform to being something animalistic. Almost instantly his sun tanned skin discolored, the pigmentation in him drew all to the surface as the skin became like the hide of a pony, it changed color and was then a deep black hue. Although Terry felt his changing begin he did not have the mind to look at his skin, but felt duty bound to look as stare back at young Tabitha, he so felt a love for her and her beautiful face.

As his youth worked to betray Terry, he felt a sense of bliss. The euphoric feeling ensued in him, whether he was human or animal, his passion was for her, for Tabitha, someone he did not know! She had him where she wanted someone as young as her, and feeling a closeness for her as she did for him and what he would have to sooth her lustier times. She knew what would happen, it had happened countless times before. Soon and with changing into being for her a pony, Terry would see as know her and arouse his erection from just thinking about her.

The bliss in him continued to build, as did his young human body to become that of a stout of bone and muscle Welsh Mountain pony. He eyed her, relishing her body as he felt his own change. He ceased to care about his brothers, his lost sister, or loving parents, all he felt a dire need was to be near to Tabitha.

Young witch by the standards of being a witch, Tabitha had know more than twenty stallion pony-friends since she passed puberty. True and she would admit it, that from keeping a pony for most of its lifetime, a Welsh ponies living past thirty years, she was old by human standards, but quite young being as a witch.

A moment of reoccurring memories in Terry, his mind as body almost complete in its transitioning from human to being equine. He motioned for her to come closer, as from his muzzle he worked his tongue and lips, slurring his words said to her, “Feel… lost, ashamed, wanting of you, of being this what you are doing to me, I…, I wished to know.” At that moment the sweeping powers finalized their working on Terry, and a moment of him considering his new self, he rose to stand on all fours, a pony then and stallion for her.

She looked into his eyes, the window to the soul as some say, and his soul remained intact. Soul and conscience awake and alert, Tabitha could look into his eyes and read his thought, she repeating for him what he wished so badly to ask of her.

“You hold a loving feeling for me, how lovely dear Terry. You wish to ask why I did this to you, to understand why you then love me.  Of Topeka, your sister, you wish to know what happened to her. That is easy to tell you, she is here, being a horse, changed, is a stallion, stud, owned by Pricilla. She ran near where Pricilla was busy picking mushrooms, they grow well in piles of manure, and she owns many horses that were once people.

Pricilla has her timing, she seeing your very healthy sister liking to run, spellbound her, and since she runs, racing, and is a winner what grants her fun as a stallion at stud. You will meet her, but she has accepted her fate. Quite wholeheartedly Topeka now known by the name Topper, forgot all of what she was long hence.

Topper, a Thoroughbred stallion, when you meet him, he will not know you, but and if he lets down his cock, give the flared end a lick and he will tolerate your being close to him.

I would forget your past life, your brothers soon shall be arriving, each in his new form as a horse, stallion, and of varied breeds. What you have going for you is me, me and my passion for feeling pony cock pushed in and deep, of thrusting and belly-riding, fun times for the both of us.” 

All this news and information kept his mind busy, as the spell worked upon the lad, the devils doing the deed worked wonders. As much, Terry lost his love of family, that special place in his heart for a loving mother. His heightened sensuality from becoming a pony had him deciding the becoming as her personal pet and pony was right for him. 

He feeling a massive surge of strength and a bodily dexterity he never felt before, he struggled to take his four-legged stance, and when standing before his mistress, Terry began to understand some of his new freedoms.

Covered in a furred self, Terry stood on stoutly muscular legs, he did not concern his thought to the loss of hands that became as hoofs, but slapped his thicker lips, chewed his jaw, and found pleasure as sensuality from flicking his hairy tail.

Tabitha saw her new ride as something more a friend than a simple-minded beast. She looking into his eyes saw more than some fading wonders and worries. What she saw she would expect seeing in the soul on a pony some several years after the last bit of their humanity had changed to being equine.

Terry liked what she made of him! He felt as a part of a group, never and individual, but by her making him a pony, he stood out from others of his kind. The usual acclimation portion of the spellbinding came and went but Terry kept his identity solid in his mind, he knew what she did to him and he loved her for it!

A shrill whiny from Terry told them both as of his feelings for here, a sense of passion that engulfed him more than her. He felt passion so more intense that him being naked, Terry felt no concern of her seeing him and his pony maleness inflated, hung out his sheath, and extended, he swaying, toyed with the weighty thing, enjoying this his first erection as a pony.

 As from out of somewhere in space, Terry felt the touch and snuggled fit on his pony head of a bridle. It his to wear, effectively making it to him as married with his body to acting conducive to what his master wanted him to do. Tail flicking over a puckered black, as soft skin anus and furred buttocks kept Terry passive to waiting for what Tabitha did with him next.


Similar situations befell the four other brothers, each taken under the spellbound control of a witch. None of the other witches had use for a pony or let one enter their bedroom, as did Tabitha.

As Tabitha stood holding the reins to her new pony-friend, stallion, and stud-lover, Terry looked at what the other witches arriving back to the bonfire had for them as new mounts.

Somehow, as if by scent Terry knew the first to return to the bonfire was his brother Thomas. Thomas walked along slowly. He still discovered how he felt from being a Morgan horse stallion. His witch asked of him if he had a favorite horse breed, and Thomas liked the Morgan breed well enough. Upon his coming closer, he knew Terry the same way and means did snort a greeting.

“Greetings my sisters, see here of this young fellow. He told of being just his eighteenth birthday when given the offering of a preferred choice, he chose with bold, enthused perception his future to be a working horse. He directly asked to be a Morgan horse, black as you see him, dark his soul too! See his large draft-horse size of sheath, quite the masculine his delights. Even as he waited for his witch to take full control over him, he began courting as sniffing the rump of a nervous witch.


Timothy stood eying his brothers, he like they having as enjoying the weighty heft of his erect horse cock. A rhythmic stomping of a hind leg and hoof harshly at the ground made his sheath to jiggle, his testicles too, and that erection to sway. Sexual infatuation of his new as stout strong self, kept Tim wishing to want for more of being like is as does a horse.


Terrell met his fated future doomed as tried by an evil witch, she ages old and looked the part, she wanted not some speedy steed or a pony size male to give her penal passions, she made use of Terrell by making of him a sterile, calm Mule.

“A Mule...,” one of the witches yelled when seeing the old hag walking with her new mount in tow.

Terrell knew as felt his sterility as fact, but from the wafting scents in the air of aroused males with sweaty hung cocks, along with two mares feverish and squirting streams of piss, he too gained a massive erection. His witch had not feelings for her mount other than of him serving her as a ride. When she saw that first and glory seeking erection hung from the sheath of Terrell, she gave it a swift as hard kick by her foot. She harsh with those she doomed, effectively disarming the male mule to deflate his penis and it sucked back into the protective sheath.


Tyler as found by and for the use as property to Granny Marburg, what she did to men made her money. She lived in the near valley where were wealthy farmers, most of them of the Amish or Mennonite faiths. They tended to working their farms by ages past methods that meant there was a need for excellent horseflesh. Granny bred a fine line of draft horses, most as Percheron, as Belgium, or Bryant breeds, the latter breed she made use of Tyler, he stood as a yearling.

Mare piss did the same to him as did it to his brothers. He stood aroused but by the wishes of his Mistress-Master, she wanted him to grow and mature, becoming a mighty stallion and stud.

"Él que mira se convierte como uno para participar" said Granny, she speaking in some Spanish dialect, the translation of it being similar to, "He who looks becomes as one to partake!" No sooner said than from the beady dark eyes of Granny Marburg shot forth a steaming beam of yellow power.

The beamed spell as cast struck Tyler at his eyes, enveloping him in a glowing yellow haze. The powerful haze held the brother stiffened, unable to move, she wished to empress upon him that he being a massively powerful horse. She was in control of him. As Timothy stood to his right side and Thomas there on the left, they knew their brothers.

"Tits...," Terry muttered still past thick lips, his thoughts locked on his perverse delight in wanting to nuzzle his face into such, but from seeing then Shanna fending away that goat Demon, he thought then as of his own changed self. His anxious cry for what he desired more only increased the hold on him by the spell what made him a pony.

A pony mouth fell open as with a sudden sensing of his new self, he gained realization of what he had lost and to his being then as an animal, naked and standing before human kind.

Like a fire spreading across and dry field, the realization struck then each brother, they knew what was would not be for them there anymore. Their bodies, lives, and futures depended on them using each a strong body and a stout penis to warrant the continuance of them remaining alive.

“You five are as property owned and to do as what your owner, master, or breeder specifies. Leave now with your owners and do as they wish assuredly to enjoy you lives!" Granny Marburg said, as then the 5 friends and brothers led by reins, walked in varied directions, likely in addition, they would never see their brothers again.

Pressed against a tree trunk as her last possible defense, Shanna had seen enough of what the Demon-goat and witches had the power to do.  She had continued to pray and begged as pleaded to her god to keep the devil beast away, and she to let her go her way.

The Grande Master continued to look at Shanna and her sweet form. He drooling from his bestial mouth, his goat cock standing out stiff and erect, he embroiled in want.

Caryn, a young witch but in her thirties, she having known witchery from years hence, she walked to stand between Shanna and the cold sexual stare of the Demon.

"Had about enough dear girl, the sun shall rise in an hour from now, its rays shall force the Grande Master back to his toasty home. If you are not as willing for one of these stranded witches without their mounts to let them use you to give them a ride, then he will assuredly take you with him, or kill you where you stand. The two latter possibilities are anything but good, as with him and once there, you shall meet as be confronted by a host of sexual and sinful creatures.

Let me help you!

I make use of unique and stalwart of mind individualists as I see you are, and I guide them along until they know as what is best for their future. To join with me, and do then exactly what I ask. You must disrobe and be naked here before all, do it quickly or learn to like then the smell of roasting bodies in Hell." 

Reluctantly, Shanna did as asked, she feeling a sense of friendship between Caryn and her. As T-shirt, bra, jeans, socks, and panties fell to the ground, Shanna stood bold but naked, a graceful black beauty standing before lurid and jealous eyes.

Caryn stepped close to Shanna and she holding a small clay jar in one hand did dip her index finger into the mixture. A stirring of the finger in the honey thick mix, she drew out the finger, it thickly coated, and glistening in the light from the bonfire.

"Will yourself to know pride, stand bold, accept what I give to thee, and forte your whole being to be as you will!" That said, and Caryn swung her arm and hand in a circle ramming the coated finger in and deep into the pussy of an otherwise moral virgin female human.

The inserting finger sunk to the depth desired, the mixture tainting Shanna from her sex to her soul. Wide her eyes in disillusion and surprise from what Caryn did, Shanna felt as one betrayed. The spoken feelings of a mutual concern, the mixture in her vagina spread in her a sense of falling, as if she fell into a darkening void.

Excited, she Shanna began huffed breaths, stood there naked and feeling stranger still by each passing moment. Her tainted body reacted quickly to the infecting mixture. She spread her legs as stance, stood looking down at her bodily, she saw what she knew both as of Matt and the Demon were similar.

Shaggy Goat wool blossomed out of already black skin. Black wool, thick and silky the curls, the wave of wool engulfed Shanna, that and the swooning feelings as her legs conforming, quick-haste to being as goat-like. Speechless in her moment of trust turned traitor to her staunch convictions. Seeing her legs change and become the hind legs, hocks, feet, and cloven hoofs of a sleek goat, she bemoaned her fate.

“Why Caryn, you said, no..., please Caryn you would not do this to me!" Shanna said, her voice showing the waves of sensation flooding within her, as driving the changes, devouring her body as it was her faith and all desire for religion.

Shanna moved her hands to touch with spread fingers at her face, and then to her breasts. She touched at nipples that again puckered forth to look like nanny goat teats. More raking feelings of passion engulfed as ensued, she began touching at her thighs and then legs, fingering of cloven hoofs, all the time keeping a wary eye looking at a drooling sex Demon just waiting for his chance to rape her senseless.

Cold his stare, he, his extended stout male goat member pressed out curving as pointed skyward, he began moving closer, his hand pointing the cock where to sink it past the tight nether lips. As he strode closer to her, and was inches from knowing his stout shaft sunk in hot as moist tunnel, Shanna reacted violently, she swatting her hand at the approaching penis, her sharp fingernails cut slices into the tender skin.

The Demon goat screamed from pain and his cock withered, it hung soft and bleeding of black oozing thick blood.

"Feel that, it hurts, you like to give pain, as pain you wished to do to me, damn… you to Hell!" Shanna screamed, as just at that moment the red rays of the rising sun beamed forth, they passed the eastern hills, engulfing all there still as partakers in the Sabbath scene.

Screaming of sulfur burns and his body afire, the Demon melted into the ground, slipping back into Hell.

The Demon gone, some of the witches scurried for cover, as Shanna almost a she-goat Satyress stood facing a satyr named Matt.

“You did what others tried and fail, praise be,” yelled Matt as he looked at Shanna then to those brothers, a couple still there lingering with witches hiding from the sunshine.

As the sun rose higher, the goat wool grown on Shanna fell away, her thighs and legs became wholly human and she being naked let Matt take liberty, he reaching his muzzle close and took to licking her pussy clean of the seeping mixed potion.

"Enjoy me dear friend,” said Shanna to Matt, “As without you so many would be as fodder for witches and the devil. Lick me, please, as had I laid with Paul or Jack, they bursting my hymen, my virginity in peril, I would be as you but on my way to Hell. Oh but lick me, and eye me not with confusion as to why, as I suspect my becoming again human is but for a short time.

Oh..., as from how long and narrow your tongue can lick me cleaned, sooth me, it tainted me with desire. I know in some time to come I and you shall be as mates, buck with his nanny."

A rustling of the bushes nearby and from under them rose up Caryn and Granny Marburg. Granny winked an eye at Shanna, as Matt ignored all, he knelt and working his tongue deep inside a hot furry pussy.

Granny Marburg said then looking at Shanna, "Matt is my ride home, Terry, you and Tabitha take Shanna with you. Use this umbrella Tabitha dear, and once home and safe. Dutifully show our black beauty her choices.

My dear, you need now chose your future, whether from almost becoming a devil-satyr female, you wish the changes to run their course and come next month you enjoy being a breeder nanny. A second choice is to join us as a novice witch, a member of our coven.

A third choice is here and available as willing, let Terry show you his means to tickle your fancy, do that a sister Tabitha will make use of you talents as a pony mare.

Whatever, but you need choose one or the other before the next Sabbath meeting!"