Man to Mare: More than a few last words
The text message had been vague, as was the number it came from. All it was saying was for Phil to be in the barn at eight that morning. Without having to say it, Phil knew exactly the barn in question at the edge of the familyâs property that he worked for. It was used for storage of some older farm equipment but that was basically it.
Phil opened the front doors to the door and felt like he was the first person to have done so in a generation.
âHello?â he called out to any that may be hiding in the rafters or in one of the empty stalls to hear.
After waiting for any sort of response, even the creek of a floor board, Phil was about to leave when something odd caught his eye inside one of the stalls. Stepping into the musty space, there was a brand new leather halter and saddle, both just hanging on some hooks on the wall.
âWhat are you doing here?â he asked the objects. Just as he was expecting a response, a feeling ants or worms just under his skin began from his fingerâs tip to his wrists, where either hand started to feel hideously cramped. âAh! Fuck, my hands. What the hell is-â but words failed him when he saw exactly what was happening.
Every finger was elongating, with the middle on each being the faster on either hand. Adding to that was a thick, black weight to the tips of several fingers and that the pinkie and ring fingers of his right hand had merged into one odd finger. Phil didnât want to panic but watching it happen was horrifying and feeling it was way worse.
The sound of it all was altogether its own aspect, as the lengthening of the fingers caused bones to lengthen and crack and snap as they did. Deep grooves look like they were being cut into the flesh of his forming semi-hooves.
âStop! Stop, my hands they, they hurt really, really, bad-ah!â Phil cried out to the barn as more cracks continued the changes of his hands, with more fingers merging and black, longer hairs sprouting down over his wrists.
His arms bent in front of him, the skin still crawling and black nails keep merging, Phil soon felt that his hands werenât the only place that were having trouble. Both feet were starting to throb with pain as the confines of his boots were no longer enough.
âI canât even work my laces with, with these,â but Phil still denied any resemblance his hands now had to hooves and instead tried to get his boots off. With fingers finally merging into a solid mass, he could only watch and sob softly as the laces of his boots started to pop themselves as his new feet
Phil had felt like the arch of his foot was cramping and that he just needed to get onto the balls of either to stretch it out. As the insole separated from the rest of the boots and laces went to shreds, the changes were much like those that had afflicted his hands, though with more brown hair grown in than white but with almost completely formed hooves.
There was no denying it now.
âI, I have hooves?â he asked, taking some slow steps forwards out of the shreds of his boots. The clomping noise caused him to shut his eyes in disgrace. âThis is crazy. I canât, I canât have hooves.â Phil tried to reason with himself even as more waves of change started to hit him. The hooves really started to form, making either hand heavier. âAnimals have hooves and these are, Iâm just, tumors?â was all he could desperately try and reason.
Numerous wet, deep pops could be heard from Philâs lower pelvis which left his hips and posture straining. He was beginning to hear parts of his clothing- undershirt, flannel jacket, pants, underwear, belt- starting to creak and moan under increased strain. Phil was really hoping this was all going to stop really soon.
âI donât wanna be on fours. Please, please, stop,â he begged again. The ache spread then to his back, where the bones and muscles got bigger with every breath and other times simply by forcing Phil through it. His undershirt untucked itself as two inches were added to his torsoâs length, making his balance more and more troubled.
There wasnât a piece of clothing that didnât feel tight on his body and he was sweating all over. Philâs arms began to ache and then cracked, lengthening forcibly and ripping parts of his sleeve. Relenting for the sake of clothing, he let himself fall to all fours, just as his elbows felt torqued around.
Left and right hand each clopped and so did his feet when he hurriedly stepped backward in freight.
âFuck! Fuck, fu-ah-AH!â Phil shouted. The pain was from his tail point pushing out at last. His pants had slipped down enough so that on all fours, the upper part of his ass, and therefor his new tail, were exposed. âI have, a tail? Holy shit, I have a fucking tail. And itâs growing! No, please!â
Soon flush with dark brown hair, the long horse tail was quickly growing over his ass. There, his jeans were doing their very best to contain the swelling mass within but separation is already showing in the seams and Phil hears more things ripping than he can see.
âWhy is this happening to me? Iâm so scared, please. If anyone is there that can help.â Philâs voice carried his desperate tone. âI donât I think I can control it. the changes, they just come and oh, Oh, OH!â As his tail had been growing, so had Phil gained a puckered horseâs asshole that let out a noxious fume. âThat came outâa me?â he asked after nearly gagging.
Arms again creaked with further growth which the legs were happy to match. This only moved Philâs head further from the ground and added to his general disorientation and confusion. Even when finally centered for a brief moment, he need to only open his eyes and move to be reminded.
Every confused, wobbly step is a clatter of hooves that echoed in the empty space.
âIâm turning into a horse. Why am I turning into a hor-SEEiGHHH!â Â He had felt his heart starting to race while talking but thought he could finish before the fire that took his lungs and expanded them forced a whinny through his mouth. He was unable to complain as his ribs and spine cracked and things continued to shift to fit an equine frame.
Where bare skin was exposed, bone, muscle, tendon, and veins could be seen moving under the taught flesh which itself was slick with sweat. It looked ready to rip or explode but would almost hold on long enough for the body to catch up. Even organs could be seen changing, filling in much of the new mass Phil had added all over his body.
Philâs belt finally snapped off. Something that had him immediately checking under himself as best he could as his unchanged head was poorly situated on the somewhat horse body. At first, he could see only some leathery, bulbous things but they looked to be nearer his waist. Once he realized the bumps were teats- his old nipples having migrated south- thatâs when he figured it was an udder.
At that moment, just below his asshole, his emptied testicles were pulled into his newly unsealed slit while the scrotum was pulled into the teardrop pink of the new mare sex. His cock, dribbling a pathetic last load, was being pulled into the folds as well.
âA horse and, and female? This canât be happening. No, not to meeEEEEIGH!â This whinny was louder than the first and signaled further changes.
His torso had finally gotten large enough to that shirt and flannel both ripped and fell to shreds around and then under him.
âPlease donât do this. I donât wanna beEEEIGHHH.â Phil tried to compose himself, even as his body was cracking and shifting more audibly now than ever. âIâm so scared! Ple-ple-â and Philâs words became blubbering tears as he appeared to be under more strain.
His pants were finally starting to lose it with parts popping or shredding off. Every moment that passed, more and more mass was added which was well beyond what any piece of clothing was meant for. When much of them finally fell to the ground, Phil almost wanted to cry or lament but he felt any voice he found would be tainted with another horse whinny. Still,
âHave to, find, help,â he managed slowly. Looking around, he spotted his phone which had been in his pantâs pocket. After four attempted swipes to unlock it, he wound up stomping on it with a hoof. Desperate tears began to be shed.
As if to punish him for trying, the changes came back again. âOh no, not now! I wanne go homEERRRGG-EIGH!â Phil managed to shout. Again his arms and legs hurt but this time they reached their final height. The base of his neck was becoming sore and he could hear the snaps and pops of the transformation in his ear. The gentle lengthening of his neck had started while his gut and hips and ass got larger.
Through all this, Philâs underwear were stretched and slid just below his tail, but were still holding on.
âThis canât be how it ends for mEEEEIGH!â A thickening and elongating neck is quick to strain any words into whinnies at this point. Â A voice that was almost deeper and somehow still somewhat feminine too. âJust need to think. Relax. Have to,â and before he could finish, the back of his underwear turned a yellow and soaked through with urine. Christening of his new pisshole, roughly two pounds of turds rushed out to sag and then rip the bottom of his underwear not a moment after relieving himself the first way.
Blushing red and still dripping turds, Phil waits to finish before stepping out of the stall and away from his mess. All clothes removed, below the neck, he was an Arabian filly with a high tail and perfect coat.
Shutting his eyes, the changes came again and he could feel the mane of dark hair growing form his lengthened neck. The tips of his ears were also tingling.
âI canât stop, it,â Phil softly sobbed, wanting to grab his head to save it but his arms were already just legs forelegs. âIâm so scared. I donât wanna go. I donât, here it, ah-AH-HIEE! NEEEIGH! NEEEIGHHH!â Phil went out talking as he was only silenced when the dislocation of his jaw and flattening and tugging at his nose made it impossible to talk. Both were made wider and then pulled forward.
Teeth tumbled from Philâs head as did his hair. Every time he blinked, his snout would be a little longer.
âNo-NEEE!â he tried to talk but couldnât, as larger teeth came in along with a tongue.
âI canât stop it. Iâm turning into a fucking horse. A filly!â he thought as fur started to fill in where it could on his face.
The creaks and crunches, snaps and redesign finally slowed until an Arabian filly of maybe two years was standing where Phil had thirty minutes before.
âThis is insane. My body is huge. I must almost weight eight-hundred pounds or more,â Phil thought as he took some tentative steps around the barn. It was certainly a rather drastic change of view which Phil was trying to take in stride. âI can still mostly think. Iâm just a horse too.â
Looking back at the stall, the first thing he notices is the mess he left.
âIf Iâm going to convince anyone that Iâm a human, I should refrain from shitting like an animal,â he thought as three more turds tumbled out of him. âBut who are those things for?â
âYou,â said a familiar voice. It was the daughter of the farmer who owned all the land. Â She rode in on one of the larger stallions, having dismounted while Phil was still learning to walk. âNow arenât you a pretty girl?â she xhided, having dismounted and walked into the barn to pet the new filly, the stallionâs reigns in her hands.
âMarcy? You? You did this to me? Why? How?â Phil thought loudly but could only whicker and whinny.
âI donât know what youâre saying but youâre probably confused. Well, we sold a horse we didnât have so we needed to get one quick. Now instead of whatever life plans you had, youâll be this teenage aged girls pony for a while. Okay, well, the rest of your life,â she corrects herself. She leaves the stallion to wander while heading into the stall.
She walks around the mess but grabs the equipment.
âIâll never be some girlâs pet! Let me go! You canât do this to me!â he thought and whinnied loudly and even bared teeth.
âAnd Iâm sure that was a threat so,â
Philâs back legs nearly broke as a sudden weight came down on his back. Glancing back with just an eye and he could see the stallion mounting him.
âThatâs what heâs for. Prepare to have your humanity fucked from you.â
The threat came real quick as Philâs tight cunt was immediately assaulted with the massive head of the stallionâs cock. Marcy moved up and grabbed the new mare around the neck to help hold her.
âNo no no no! Heâll kill me I canât take all that, that-â and the problem of tightness was solved with a hard, determined thrust from the stallion that the mare body shaking. Feeling that massive member in him, knowing it all fit, made Phil completely okay with what followed.
Marcy didnât even hold on after the second thrust as Phil had fully given in.
âI shouldnât but it feels so good. I can be a simple animal. I can do that,â he thought. âOf shit, Iâm becoming okay with this.â
This worry wasnât lost on Marcy who just made sure to look the mare in the eye.
âLike you donât want it at this point,â she whispered to him, âThat stallion used to be a milk truck girl from around here. You loves her new life. Youâll enjoy yours.â
Whether it was a reasoned argument or just the flood of hormones, Phil couldnât tell the difference but when the stallionâs load began to gush into him, there isnât a part of him that wouldnât have walked into that barn ten times over again.
An hour later, Phil, now named Princess, is being ridden the first time by the thirteen year old brat who just got the filly as a birthday present. Phil was easily forgotten.
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