One Definitive Day

Published: Jan 1st, 2012

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READER NOTICE: This story was written for fun and may not be worthwhile reading for those considering themselves as literary purests!

A fun fantasy adventure :
Series 2012

Paul walked at sometime on every day, just as his doctor prescribed him to do more exercise or go on a tight diet. He had walked the housing plat where he lived so many times the scenery became a boredom.

One morning and for no apparent reason, when Paul walked out of his house, he set off on an adventure walk. He began by walking along the dangerous county road where trucks and cars flew past him with little consideration for his person. When after a half mile of feeling sand and stones hitting him, Paul turned a definitive corner, walking then along the rarely used "Maelstrom Road."

The old country road he had driven once discovering it went nowhere but to a rusty dead end sign. As well the county seemed to ignore keeping the sandy road graded level, it a mess of bumps, rainwater runoff gullies. The scenery was different and the noise from the main road lessened by the rolling hills. Scenery too was different, as well peaceful with fenced pasture to the right side of the road, and a field of tall weeds, thistles, brambles, and brush from many years of lacked care or use.

Paul walked at his usual pace strutting a half mile along the road when he noted for the first time ever the vine grown over iron gates to the entrance of the Maelstrom mansion. He stopped and stood gawking at the imposing gates wrought of iron bars and of the stately mansion tucked into dark woods of shade trees. He decided to take some time and investigate the historical building, it vacant and looking its age. Six large white marble columns stood holding up the great porch roof. As Paul stood there gawking at the imposingly large building, he had a puzzling thought. Such old and vacant buildings were the usual target of vandals and kids liking to throw stones and break windows, however not one windowpane was broken.

Paul peered inside the front windows seeing inside there was furniture setting as undisturbed by vandals or time. He continued his exploit of the mansion walking through the weeds and brambles, as he went from window and room, marveling at the great building.

When he rounded the rear of the mansion, a smaller porch with wicker chairs and table set on a veranda overlooking a building that looked like a stables, and beyond to a huge white painted barn, the two building tended to allure him even more!

He walked tripping over the thickly grown weeds, vines, and an occasional pile of old bones, where as a group of animals died suddenly where they stood. When Paul walked up nearer the building the grass became green, lush, and without any weeds. He thought to look inside the stables, expecting the doors having rusted hinges, but found the doors opened with ease as if well kept by someone.

The realization the stables as maintained still made Paul feel nervous as he went inside saw there the polished and clean leather horse harnesses, saddles, and so clean, it made no sense. He walked and counted a dozen stalls, all clean and looking as prepared for some horse to come and take as its new home. When with wonderment Paul stepped inside a larger stall, he felt a chill and the odd thought the stall had an inhabitant. He looked from side to side at stall, it clean but unused for many years if considering the graying of the wood rails.

The door to the furthest stall there along the aisle had its door closed; it tied closed with a rope bound keeping the door shut. Seeing this new oddity in an already strangely well kept stable, Paul ventured to see as why the extra measures of keeping the door closed. Looking in the stall, Paul gasped at seeing there the sight of white bones left from a long since dead horse.

Seeing the white bones and considering the kept premises, Paul became more unnerved about being there. As much his wits told him to leave and do not come back, he felt an urge to untie the rope and enter the stall, why he did not know. As he untied the rope and slid it out of the rings that bound the stall door as closed tight shut, he noted the rope as being wet, and then heard a rustling sound coming from inside the stall.

Leaving the stall door as still shut and the iron pin keeping it locked, he walked around to the side and looked down to see the heap of bones were gone, replaced by a wild-eyed black horse, it quite alive, excited and snorting!

As the glaring eyes of the horse looked down and directly at those of Paul, their gazes locked, and minds connected.

“Release me and I shall reward you properly,” demanded the mind of the horse, it using mental telepathy to speak to Paul. The words in his head came with an overpowering urge to do as told, and Paul began to do as the horse wished done.

“I would not release that demon stallion back into this world, you do and he shall reward you by making you one of his brood mares, unless the thought of being that would appeal to you?” A bold as deep baritone voice said, the voice booming at Paul from the far end of the stables.

“Hurry you fool, release me before he comes and stops you! If hurry, do as I say you can feel the freedom and wonderment of becoming as am I. Forget any worries about your changing of gender, think only as of the sensuality when you are for me a mare and bred often.” A long pause as the horse said nothing but waited acting as eager, he mentally urging Paul a second time, had the demon speak verbally, “Now do as I say, remove the sacred pin and open that door!”

Paul mentally struggled against the urge. If from what the Centaur said about the black horse was true, and it was a Demon, it could change him to become as a she and as well then make him a mare. Paul stood thinking it all through, what the demon urged him to do and of the reward, that idea troubled him, his being a breeding mare, such was not what he had any plan or wish to become. The second time the urging came with the horse speaking, as ordering Paul to move according to the evil will, and accept as do as told.

Paul walked stiffly to the stall door. He stood there still thinking, reached a hand up and about to lift the iron pin that held the door closed and locked, when then a hairy hand slid into view. A calming deep voiced man said, “Good sir, please consider what all you do here in this stable, unless your residing here is a great desire!”

Paul turned to look at a man standing there naked from the waist up, he very hairy his chest, but with a slow gaze downward, Paul gasped again, see not human legs but horse forelegs. Turning to face the strangely formed man, Paul stood and saw his first ever Centaur!

“Release me!” So demanded the black stallion rearing, as pawing the air, he anxious, had come alive, sounding more to Paul as would some demonic force held a captive.

“Listen, hear me, and try to ignore Maxton speaking to you. The holy water soaked rope and the iron pin, keep the world safer with that demon locked away, do you understand me sir?” The Centaur said to Paul, he asking of him to think, as all Paul could do then was nod his head and said nothing as he stared off into some dark oblivion.

“Eye what you see standing there in the stall as not proof enough, Maxton is a reality. If though you are not sure, then I dare thee place one of your hands upon the iron pin, as if you meant to remove it, but please…, do not remove that pin!” Said the Centaur to Paul and he complying did as suggested, he touched the iron pin. As if the iron pin were searing hot, what Paul felt more than the heat, caused a quick look at his hand change. Paul saw his fingers, hand and forearm the skin then changed color and texture, they became blackened, as then horse fur sprouted the length from hand to his forearm.

“Erg…,” said Paul feeling stunned as seeing what happened to his arm and hand. He retracting his hand from off the pin the changing ceased, but his arm and hand remained furry.

“My arm, my hand, look at it, see too my fingernails, they look like small hoofs!” Paul said as he held up his hand and changed arm, rotating it to see it better. “What is this, you change me back, please…,” said Paul to the Centaur and the looked toward the black horse. As from inside the stall the horse laughed a devilish laugh, obviously delighted as what happened, happened to Paul, it said blatantly, “My cursing of you has begun!”

“Be calm dear sir, the arm and hand shall become as normal for you by tomorrow. Had you opened the stall and walked inside he would have had you!” The Centaur said to Paul, seeing a grown man crying tears of fear as he gawked at a changed hand and arm.

“You mean if I had walked into that stall boldly, and not gone around and peered in, he would have made of me a mare then?” Paul asked there the Centaur, trusting the thing what spoke of caution, and seemed to hold the best interest for Paul remaining human.

“A mare he could easily make you to become and like it. What I expect him to do would be to trade bodies with you, he being then as is a human, a wolf in sheepish a form to do his hateful desires. He would leave you then being his stallion form, constrained to acting, as would an ignorant beast, having lost your body to him, only your life entity he would transfer.

Tell me, does the thought of becoming a horse or mare trouble your conscience any?

If so the thought to you becoming an animal is frightening, then keep away from that stall.

Recently another came here to this accursed stable, he finding a stallion did slip over the side rail and planned to fondle Maxton. The demon let the youth begin his toying before the changing began. A few short beleaguered screams and then only shrill whinnies did I hear come from the stall. What was born human became a lovely as well horny pretty pony mare.” The Centaur said to Paul as gaining a fuller attention of the human to the probability of him becoming an equine animal could have happen. “If instead you feel horrified by the offer then walk with me, allow me to tell the tale, while keeping a safe distance from the evil Maxton.”

Paul withdrew his hand away from the stall door and the iron pin, he picking up the wet rope, did restring it through the iron ringlets and bound it over the iron pin. Then he stopped, and turning to look at the Centaur, Paul asking said, “If opening the door to let the new mare out, why would then the demon-horse remain inside, he should bolt out and become free?”

The Centaur smiled down at Paul that is a logical question with an easy answer. The holy water soaked rope hung in place allows exiting of the stall through a servicing door built as part of the greater stall door. He who became as a young mare, his slim form could walk through the door and under the rope. I did help young Kyle to gain his freedom, he though doomed to live his lifetime being a Welsh pony mare.

Maxton has cursed his own ambitions what in a tight situation he did merge with the black stallion form. Squire Maelstrom used a mare to lure the demon-horse inside the stall using a mare feeling her time of estrus. Sexual desires are strong in them of the dark realm, Maxton especially after assuming the form of a stallion. He did walk inside the stall and after rutting the mare to near dead; she walked out leaving him trapped, held captive.”

Paul sighed and felt calmed by the expert explanation about Maxton the demon-horse. As the Centaur took the lead, his hind leg and hoof came down and put some great weight onto the toes of Paul. Paul yelped from the pain and when the hoof lifted off the injured foot, it caused Paul to lean away, he staggering, trying to grab at anything to stop from falling to the stable floor.

Possibly, as by accident, Paul reached and grabbed hold of the iron pin. A split second moment long enough for a spiteful demon to react, the demonic cursing of Paul caused the black horse fur to suddenly sprout again and grow all over Paul. It spread up the already changed arm to the shoulders, as then down the other arm doing the same to that hand. A stunned Paul felt the powerful fury of skin changing to a hide and the fur enveloping his head, face, ears, and grow forth a mane along the back of his neck.

The sudden surge of change knocked Paul off balance and as he turned to walk away from the stall, he stumbled. The misbalanced sensation had Paul reaching to grasp at anything to stop him from toppling over onto the cement stable floor. During the scramble, Paul bumped against the Centaur shoulder, causing a full-body lurch backwards, as with flagging hands he foolishly, for a third time grabbed hold the iron door pin and felt another sweep of changes.

“Oh shit,” Paul exclaimed aloud, this made the demon-horse to laugh as evil powers enveloped a changing human, extracting a moan as from the very different feelings.

The evil power rushed to consume Paul while he stood trying to gain control and govern his movements. Instead, and to the fear in Paul, the black fur and thick equine hide spread like a wildfire to encompass him then from head to feet. Worse in some ways was the felt addition of a growing tail, it along with the swelling of his buttocks to equal those proper on a medium size pony.

Paul stood there as had so many others previously feeling the sensation of owning a tail and how having a pony rump differed from what it was being human. The all-enveloping power did not stop with rearranging the rump of Paul, it slipped between the buttocks to cause massive change to his maleness. As changes occurred, Paul felt much more that became different, as his ears grew longer, his lips thickened, and his human head elongated to look like one of a black pony.

Changed lips, a thicker tongue and enlarged new teeth made human form of conversing near to impossible for Paul. Pushing past the Centaur, Paul wanted to leave there as return home. As he pressed open the door at the far end of the stables, he thought to look back at the Centaur before he exited.

“I would suggest you remove your clothing before venturing outside and into the sunshine. The demon has cursed you, a step outside that door now, as before the sun sets in the west, will finish his spellbinding, successfully changing you into a black pony stallion.

Trust me I know, he did something similar to me, making of me a Centaur. I cannot leave this mansion property or change then with the first step past the fence line; I would become a dun colored breed Quarter horse.” The Centaur said, as the demon again laughed, he knowing as well feeling what Paul felt, and helped to arouse Paul a sense of delight to his changed self.

Paul took a deep inhaled breath feeling the power working on his body causing him an arousal of something more than any male sensation he had, had before. The arousal pushed past the waistband of his slacks, allowing more than a feeling, it became a visual reality. Paul looked down at what stuck skyward, seeing what the Doc had circumcised stood then as blunt-flat the end, his length and girth that of a mature pony stallion.

Worsening his situation, with tail flagging and penis erect, Paul slipped down and off his slacks, then underpants to view the felt changes happening to thighs and legs, becoming the hind legs as such of a black pony.

“What more now is he doing to me,” Paul said, as he stood displaying his equine male tool, it in a fully blossomed state of an erection. What he saw as anguished having, the new heft to his testicles, told of their changing each to equal the size of a Kiwi fruit.

The rush of new sensations captivated Paul, he feeling as to his furry human arms, hands, and a chest still reflecting his past self. Paul began to walk high-stepping strides along the stable aisle. As he strode his steps, the dull clopping sound suggested his legs as feet had conformed to being wholly of equine, as did the changes work to make human toes become as pony size hoofs.

Shrill as excited sounding whinnies came out the mouth of Paul, he thinking what to say, he could not annunciate the words through thick lips. His mind remained alert and thinking, as the Centaur stood and eyed the new almost pony, he said, “You do make for a strikingly refined form of a pony stallion! Your coming here today might be of something providential, not wholly of the desires the dark realm and Maxton thought to become your reality.

A pony stallion looking as good as are you, the powers in heaven might be behind this changing of you. Maxton might have helped you along to become a black pony rather than a lusty mare.

Had you walked inside the stall, he would have had you then. As I said, he could have traded your forms, becoming a human of form, and you, permanently transferred your living soul into being then a stallion horse.

Dear Sir, just imagine if you can, as after the trading of bodily forms, consider what Maxton might have done to your wife?

Considering your luck, and how much you have changed, I suggest you need stay here, remaining indoors, out of the body-changing sunshine.

Come with me then, we should talk. As of what Maxton caused from his hatred, your many changes, you feared them at the first, but seem excited to keep what you are as if you can live in a human world being mostly a pony your form.

We shall remain here in the stables, going to my stall down front end to the aisle way. When there, and Maxton in his stall, he can and shall try to allure you to come to him, but I suggest you do not!

Maxton has changed you rather extensively! His powers shall plague you during the coming evening and nighttime. Expect him to send you urged pangs of lust, taunting you to masturbate, or fornicate with Kyle when she returns nightly to the stables. Things sexual work to deny logic and a demon curse draws up from Hell devils, they pose ideas, act to persuade, and if after a night of wild equine style sexual play, come the morning, then what you are is what you shall remain, likely a pretty pony stud.

Last summer Maxton did the same to a man coming here to stay out of the sun, it a warm day. He his name being Timothy, a transient, looking for work was penniless. He foolishly wandered in here to keep cool and see what he might steal.

Maxton sprang to life, as could not persuade Timothy to fuss with the rope or the iron pin. The lackadaisical manners taunted Maxton; he focused his powers at the man and by the next morning a mare thinking her name being Tina strode outside to begin grazing.

Soon she shall return to the stables after six o’clock. If you feel a want for becoming more the pony and less a man, then let Tina become your host for the night. After fornicating with her, as Maxton showed her how it is done and done well, she should make your transitioning to being a stallion pony a preferred reality.”

Stating of that idea sparked Paul back to thinking about his returning home, of his wife and their plans for a future together. He stood there intent in thought, ignoring what happens to those of the equine race when desire began another erection his renewed its stoutness.

The moment Paul felt his new and massive an erection oozing some pre; he looked up at the Centaur and began to apologize.

The Centaur just laughed, and reached a hand, he gave the stout cock a healthy squeeze, helping it to ooze more pre and send orgasmic thrills to where Paul might need to feel them begin.

“You remain here, I am going to the big barn, now stay put, and remember, one more touch to that iron bolt pin and Maxton will assure your form and silence as something very permanent.” The Centaur fellow said to Paul, and as he strode out the stable doorway, he stopped and turned, gaining the attention of Paul, he said, “My name is Booth, not that you can speak it, but I thought you might like to know!”

As Booth trotted across the weedy paddock to the big barn, Maxton began talking, as taunting at Paul to come closer to him, to release the demon and gain being a wonderful life as a Welsh stallion pony. How a demon knew to nag a man half changed into becoming an equine nag…, Paul lay down in the stall straw, burying his face and ears to try as ignore Maxton. The demon had a plan and demons always do, they depend on the living to remedy the taunts, as minutes later, Tim the mare walked into the stables and with a sniff, she knew a new stallion was there.

** “No please, not now, not Timothy,” Paul thought, as knowing his will to ignore a mare was weak. His thoughts Maxton heard and he reiterated them to young and horny Tim.

“Maxton, why did you come to life again, I learned to appreciate you best when just a pile of dried bones,” Tim thought his rebuttal, as he asked, “Who, there is a new mare here, she smells more like a stud, what, what is wrong here?”

Sniffing and Tim knew the scent, it being so much the same as that of Maxton, and why not, if he had changed someone, and they be a stallion, then the night was young and sensuality might rein in a big cock to fill a horny need.

“Really, and Booth told him all about me, that was wrong of him, I am humiliated once again, what is he, as big as are you? I disliked you and your big cock rammed in me and thrusting, filling me my womb with a gallon of sticky stinking demon semen.” Tim thought his mind linked to that mentality of a demon, being appreciative to the demon for what he did to Tim. As Tim listened, he remarked after hearing what Maxton suggested, “Booth’s stall, hmm, I always wondered if that Centaur was gay, is the new fellow gay too, no…, really, you would do that for me, just taunt him to feel his need and he to fulfill my need, that sounds great!”

As Tim, he the cute pony mare walked into the front most stall, she nickered her desires to Paul. She saw him as what he had become, being mostly a pony, and quite definitely a stallion stud where it counts.
“Hello, can you still understand me, my mind, my thoughts, it is the way Maxton lets those he makes like us to communicate.” Tim thought at Paul, and Paul rising to stand as he could on hind-like legs of a pony, the horny mare swooned at seeing a Welsh pony stallion cock standing tall, girthed, and the end flared broad.

“You are new at this; let me give you some things to relish. Firstly, you need to nestle your muzzle along my buttocks, sniffing, gathering my scent. Secondly, you shall see how I can wink my mare vulva, letting out more pheromones, as I urinate for you a puddle to sniff and learning to like. I know from experience from being in with Maxton what to do, and doing for a stallion what you should expect a mare to do. Thirdly, and this is what Maxton did, you might wish then to come close and give a tongue lap-lick of my vulva.

Expect then to roll your upper lip up and partially close your nostrils, helping to relish my rank scent and arouse your cock from its soft home.

Come now, try me, and know that with one good mating of a mare, Maxton wins, and gains another as soul damned and bound for Hell.” She, who was Timothy said, as her future lay determined and knowing of where she would be in eternity, acted as resolved to living for the want of sensation.

“Oh heck, what of it,” thought Paul in response to the ideals Tim spoke about. He then looked at the mare into her brown eyes, felt then mesmerized, he grumbling, thought, “As my father told me and tried to explain, to be as one saved through Christ a person needs be born anew in true faith. You need to be as of the special elect as well. Dad spoke of predestination, but you and Maxton convey thoughts about the silkiness of pre, the stickiness of semen, of fur, and the weighty sensation of my cock arousing as things of pleasuring worth being damned.”

Tim sighed and blew her breath for Paul to smell, it arousing him to stand stiff legged, his cock in erection, as of ready to mount and become what the Demon so desired as a new reality. As Tim his mare mindset prodded the Paul, as said, “Forget dealing with eternity, come at me, I am winking now my hell-hole, lean aboard, grab me about my barrel and thrust in me. I want to feel it as you sink deep, sheath deep if possible, as we enjoy then my vulva lips winking at the sensual folds of your sheath.

Maxton told of you being married, of a wife at home, well forget her, what I am, is as more than enough of a female for you, come, I wait impatiently!”

Paul sauntered toward Tim and his winking vulva lips, sniffing at the wafting scent of a mare, as then Booth the Centaur strode into the stables. Seeing the likely mating-breeding session about to begin, he whirled around and with his hind hoofs; he did kick as strike Tim, driving the mare away and out from the stables.

Paul stood and watched Booth drive off the horny scented mare, and return then to see a rather miserable half-pony stand and begin hand masturbating his wild passionate feelings.

“Indeed Paul, the way you act is enough to suggest you are becoming attuned by Maxton of the prospects to being as one transformed. When comes that time and the knowing your form and future become as one in change, realization reminds that being an animal is a tough way to need live your lifetime.

I can remember and felt similar when after my first meeting with Maxton and his partner in evil a diabolical demon with the name Zepar.

By the helpful means of Maxton, he has arranged Tim to strike in the mind her offers of a delightful form. Tim being and accepting the form and sensations it is as a mare thinks only of what is wildly sensual.

Indeed, those as of the devil-owned decided to cast off all learned moral convictions, and why not, if by becoming an animal one should live as should an animal. There is more to it, and the Demon tempts, suggesting rational reasons why what he wants should be what his victims should want, and he gains the upper hand.” Booth said, as seeing it the time and place to explain further what Paul should expect, if he decided to do and mate Tim the mare.

“You need to focus…, and remember that nice wife at home, she loves you. Tim, being what he became knows no love for a male, just a passionate need to have her womb feel full, of the thrusting, and sensuality an equine body offers its owner. Until you happened to come here, I lay a good bet you never thought of a mare or horse as ever being a lover. To delight an animal and self from want not love, to breed, it begins with a chemical reaction, a scent and opposite reactions before the cock slips in and sinks deep, setting into motion an unchangeable course of events.

Flesh and sensuality is our doom factor, do as your sensations suggest and expect Maxton to be cruel, making of you an animal to do for him what he has a need, or use to an end.”

Paul looked at Booth and communicated his wonderment, “Are you feeling sorry for me, maybe a bit of guilt, not being on guard when that mare entered this stable, away when I felt tempted by Maxton? He that demon-horse is a thing of masculine beauty, and I am oddly jealous of him. He has me wishing that I had walked into his stall and he had made the trade of bodies my reality and future.

Why do I like the soft fur on my body, I enjoy having a tail, I thrill at the thought of plunging my cock into a mare and rutting her, ejaculating, feeling the rush as I spew my semen. No-way did I ever think of a horse or pony and how they mated, but now, and with this my cock as my personal tempter, I want that sensation.”

Booth looked then the length of the stable, seeing Maxton giving a good a sly grin as he with a horse mouth and being a demon could make it happen.
Quickly, Booth slapped his hands over the long ears of Paul the pony, and muttered a few choice words.

“Ah…, oh God to be free from hearing that demon talking in my mind, what did you say to him, bless you Mister Booth!” Paul broadcasting his communicating thoughts, did sigh, was disgusted his mouth could not speak what he his mind thought.

“This being mute, unable to speak my mind, just thinking, it is like being jailed in a personal solitary confinement. Maxton drives me to distraction, he insisting I should forget my wife, lust after any mare, and seek only what pleasures me and me only!

I am longing, can hardly wait for sundown and then walk outside, as away from Maxton and his constant mental digs.”

“Come to me pony-man, come and let me suckle your cock, suck your semen, arouse you to a new level of equine enjoyment.” Maxton thought, sinking deep into the soft thoughts of a once kindly man, he considerate of people and their feelings.

Booth marched down the stable aisle to confront Maxton. He able to speak, said, “Is it not enough you have almost damned-doomed him to become a pony, must you plague his mind too? Give Paul time to adjust, and if then he wants to become an animal, I shall not stand in your path of causing the final changes.

However, if after tonight and come the morning, he feels more love for his wife and being human release him. Allow Paul to go home and explain to his wife why for the next full year he is as a man endowed with the sexual organs of a pony stallion.

What, and yes he does have an excellently formed cock, long but not overly long, of bold girth but not too much to fit inside his wife if he ventured homeward.

Wait, your normal course is for making man or woman become for you a mare to rut until they weep, and are cross-eyed. Why would you then make of Paul a pony and stallion? His first ejaculation was thin and watery, mostly pre, little semen…, you plan to adjust his volume slowly…, urging him to want and like being a stallion.

What then, you wish him to want for returning home, and give to his wife a wild sensation of a stud pony mating a human female. His doing that might make of her an active zoophile, tending to him for her sexual pleasuring. Then what, as women cannot keep a secret, you shall spurn her to tell a friend and offer Paul as if a stallion at stud. A group, no coven, as would witch but for housewives seeking to feel young, sexually fulfilled, and of…, really, that some devil tried in Brazil, belly-riding, and Paul by then as one willing stallion to walk with his cock buried inside a womanly vagina, how devious!”

The Demon-horse smiled after having heard his plan deduced by the Centaur Booth. His great mentality is working sowing suggestions of evil, even into Booth.

As a man, Booth was a target for Maxton and other demons or devils to tempt. He having become a Centaur as form was curse enough to ruin any hope of getting into paradise. However, there were times and this being one of them when the Demon delighted reminding Booth of what he was, of him being in part a animal, horse, and masculine. As Booth stood there and still contemplated the terrible plan for Paul, his thinking about it caused his own cock stir, unravel, hanging down limp but gaining in weight as it began dribbling spurts of his semen.

“Damn you Maxton, stop that, you urging me feel and think horny thoughts, wishing it was I that you would use as a belly-rider stallion. It is so vivid in my mind, that fragrant scent of a mare feeling her urge, of need with a want. My keeping at a distance from you tends then I can forget about your unruly urges and turn my rump to you.

All the stable became a quiet haven, as Maxton stood waiting and watching. The Centaur Booth checked on Paul, suggesting he nap until it was dark outside the stable. As tempted, Booth too crumpled down to lie in the stable straw bedding and soon slipped into a deep slumbering sleep.

Paul was first to awaken and seeing how dark the stable, he knew it was after sundown. A slow regaining of his stance and Paul thought only of going outside the stables, of wandering, thinking as considering his next step seemed a fateful thing.

“Why are you staying away from me, you wandering in the dark? I know too the dealing with the idea of change is difficult to accept, let go, feel the wonders of sensation, become like me, an animal! Come closer, I can smell your arousal, I would lick it, suckle if you wish.” Tim the mare communicated her thoughts to Paul.

“Come no closer, your scent, I can smell you, it imposes in me a sense of want, and something I know is of that evil Demon-horse tempting me.” Paul replying, “From here at a distance your scent tries my will to reject the temptation you are, as to me an undeniable urge to complete this, my change of self."

Paul snorted twice trying to clear his nasal passages of the heady scent of a mare urged to mate. He marched off into the darkness, struggling to remain devout to his humanity and the marriage he said his vows.

Tall grasses worked to tickle at heavier testicles, and the by then flaccid hung cock, waging with every step, being a gnawing bother to Paul trying to think.
“Ugg, why do I want for feeling the mare, surely she knows her scent is affecting my mind. The more I think about denying my sensual urges the worse then is my ache from another sensual an erection. I am so aroused, my swinging cock leaks pre, and my balls ache for feeling a release. What I love is changing, what I want is as much to live my life, as would a stallion.

Oh no, the fragrance has returned, she is coming toward me, plodding slowly, I know her thoughts, head hung low is her sign of submission.

Stay away, but no she has a mission to tempt, coming closer in the dark, no moon, all is dankly humid, the air still, and that scent driving me to decide.”

There is a meeting of two sensually aroused bodies, one being a mare and the other a still undecided Halfling. She sniffs at and softly snorts, giving her equine fashion of a blow job to Paul. His flaccidly hung cock quickly stiffens and he stands sturdy his cock stout to it purpose.

Tim turned her body as lifted her tail she held it high as to one side, allowing Paul a clear view of her winking vulva lips.

Paul stands there staring at the winking lips, seeing the lighter colored flesh just beyond those black weathered lips of equine sex.

“No…, go away,” Paul thinking pleaded.

The scent begins to engulf a moral thinking man, his body made more sensitive to sensuality, tempts its owner. That reoccurring desire rises and the heart beats faster, aroused and able, the wish is to do what seems so natural.

Paul saunters closer to the intimidating mare. His cock protruded out its sheath, is pointing skyward due to his two-legged stance. As he touches her furry rump with a furred hand, he digs his hoof-like fingernails at her flesh.

In his mind Paul is thinking, “What is he doing?”

Tim, she her tail, her scent, Paul seeing there that black donut of an anus, and what is below it. He was nearer to giving up and giving in, Paul screamed a whinny of conquest as his flared cock tip pressed at and slid between, stopping those vulva lips from winking an invitation.

Feeling the need to lean forward, Paul laid with his chest over the rump of his chosen mare, as was his cock bettered to slip-slid further inside, it exploring deeper into that moist, thrillingly hot tunnel.

Paul, his lips and equine teeth takes a fir hold to the mane of the mare, helping to steady his holding of her in place under him. He forgot his having arms and hands, thinking only as would a real stallion, his forelegs as nearly useless to holding on a mare.

His blood boils from the sensations and passion, using all of his being; Paul throws into the idea to seek satisfaction. Maxton had other thoughts along that line of Paul realizing, he would deny Paul any sense of feeling sated. The urge would renew itself, tempting Paul to mate with the horny mare a second time. Twice mated, the die cast, and Paul his body, his future became that of a bedeviled pawn in a great conflict.

Tail swishing over his own pony rump, Paul rutting at the mare, his stress coming to peaks with farting, and letting fully go, he dropped turds.

“Paul, what have you done?” Booth asked, he walking from out the darkness, the only dim light there coming from distant highway rest stop lighting.

“She, her winking, that scent, my groin ached, I had to do something, and even masturbating me would urge my changing forward. What could I do but to give in and accept what the Demon wants of me?

Humph, humph, humph…, the pleasure, our aroma, it is burly, and I cannot do anything but move with the flow.” Paul replies, he is feeling more than his sexual pleasures, the mating completing the physical transforming phase.

Long drawn minutes and with the sensation of him spewing into Tim the mare his load of semen, Paul relaxes, slips from over the mare, dropping to stand then on all fours, he having four legs, hoofs, and became an animal.

A quick look up at an angered Booth, Paul spins around, rushing off into the darkness; he then changed, being a pony stallion. He galloped across the weedy pasture, the grasses and thistles tracing along his flagging cock.

Unknown to Paul but his horny mare took after him, she following Paul, urged by the Demon for her to tempt the changeling one final time.

Centaur Booth knew then the Demon had won another to his desires. Feeling sad for Paul, knowing what when comes the light of day the memories of his wife will plague what is then a pony. The sloppy sound of a vulva and cock thrusting echoes the pasture. Booth knew Paul was breeding a second time, finalizing his new form, assuring Maxton his plan became a reality.

Hours later as the first orange rays of sunlight glimmers in the east, Paul the then Welsh pony stallion stands on a hill, masturbating from his sensual ambitions. Shrill cried whinnies tell Booth who looked at Maxton, both knowing the horror Paul knew from his night of wild actions.

During the week that followed the completing of changes to Paul being undeniable a pony, the sight of a man resembling what Paul looked like when human came walking toward the stable.

Paul saw his brother Frank, he knew him, and wanted to warn him away from coming inside the damning stable.

Frank saw the excellently formed black pony come at a full gallop toward as to meet and greet a visitor. Paul screamed his best warning whinnies at Frank, but his learned as bold brother did not turn and run, he stood boldly real. Paul acted as one excited pony, soon flagging his erection, the drips of his pre flung at his brother, sticking on his human checks.

As Frank turned and ignoring the pony trying to chase him away, he thought of his reason to come there, looking for a missing brother.

When all else failed, Paul trotted up behind Frank and he using he teeth, took a hold to the leather belt hung about the belt loops of some dress slacks. As with a harsh yank, Paul tossed his loving brother down to the ground. The Centaur Booth stood near the stable door was watching, seeing a scared man on the ground and a wild-eyed pony stallion confronting him.
Three deeply inhaled breaths and Paul calmed his urges, focused, and using his right fore hoof, he did scrawl in the soft sandy earth, “I AM PAUL ___FRANK”

Younger brother knew then the pony was his elder brother, and he rose to kneeling did give a loving hug about the black furry neck.

Centaur Booth looked then toward Maxton, and said, “You will use Frank and his brotherly love to bring Paul back to his wife. The link made, your devils tempting her to know her betrothed in bed will have her letting that stallion pony gain back his sense of being married.

Maxton, you or Zepar, this deviousness was brilliant, something more what I have come to expect from knowing intimately a Demon from Hell. What then of Timothy, shall she go with Frank and Paul, or do you have a plan for her too?”

 

 

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