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Just for a Visit

by Boston Bob’s Circus / Revised 2006
and 2010 by AdobeFats

This storytelling is an authorized sequel to the originating story, “Sisters of Circe” as written by Lampwick.

The Original story: http://tsa.transform.to/animal/sistersofcirce.html


"The Sequel"

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

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

Mother tried to call David but received only his answering machine. I e-mailed him had again no response! Ron Tanner who came over one morning, suggesting he and I should drive to Capital City and visit David.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I knocked and knocked but there was no answer. I stood there wondering what to do, when Ron arrived, telling me his Yukon he parked, to the rear of the apartment building. As I began to tell him my knocking had no answer, this making me worried, I wondered what to do next?

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

I stood there feeling dumb and dumber!

As we entered the apartment, it was a mess. Now David was not messy person, he had a motto of, a place for everything, and everything in its place! One quick look around suggested to us the apartment had been burglarized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Blonde seemed angered at first, but with the animal moving into the elevator, her facial expression changed.

The women entered ahead of the Jackass, with Ron stepping in, he holding the animal’s tail, in a manner making it quite uncomfortable. The elevator doors closed, as Ron, bold as brass, rode down with this woman and her Ass.

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

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

I am a timid person, but at times becoming insatiably inquisitive. Using great care not to make any noise, I stepped out into the hallway seeing Ron being ushered into the woman’s apartment.

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

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

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

The woman never responded to the question, but as Ron and his questions floated in the air unanswered, I heard another female voice. This new voice spoke out harshly, as she seemed angered by being questioned, remarking that she and her sisters were not their brother’s keepers!

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

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

“Ron, that is your name, Ron…how do you like our bodies Ron?

I imagined Ron had introduced himself to the Blonde when they both went down inside the elevator. Yet his voice got shaky, seemingly nervous at the provocative question; I stood wondering what scheme they might be planning.

Even before he could answer, one of the women must have moved close to Ron. I thought that because she made a sensual moan, followed by one from Ron. An instant later one of the women spoke, telling Ron of their being members of a long standing following.

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

“We three are sisters and also are all devote members of a coven for women only. Standing together as three of the order, and belonging to The Sisters of Circe,” she announced with a bold sound of personal pride.

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


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

She continued then with her speech as telling Ron about their cult, and becoming out spoken of a hatred for men being as, well men! I listened in wonder and horror, the excitement of what was being said inside was bringing on me an erection of major proportions.
“We are like our patron mother and the Enchantress herself, have and do yet study many books. See there in the living room bookcase on the shelf, we keep them handy for such occasions when a man comes into our apartment.

Sisters of the faith, we are self taught, but well learned’ and able to take men who come face to face with us and grant them a change of life and lifestyle.

Most of them end up on a farm we sponsor where they do what comes natural to the males of their new species. They are degraded from human abilities, losing touch with what they were, and near ignorant of what they had since become. As beasts they live on, being in every way as if born to being an animal, crude, brutish, and like all males, they strain to show their dominance.

Now some are special even to us, Dave for example lives on as a virile male Jackass, mounting and humping animals, he is the sire of a fine breed. His mind is blank of all human knowledge and concern, except when he has mounted and is thrusting; while then will he remember and have memories reminding him of things, and people he knew when once he was human.

A few warranted we leave them alert and totally terrified of the realization that they are to live their life in the form and lifestyle as would a beast.” She made a lurid sounding chuckle, as then her humor was followed by the two other sisters who came out right and laughed with a sadistic manner.

“Kyle is one as I just said, you knew him as that large Andalusian Jackass we took down in the elevator. He has his full faculties, remembering and realizing of who he was, and is, having become permanently now an animal, at least in body. His situation will be just the opposite of all the others, as when he breeds, the excitement will remove his desired will, replacing it with brutal instincts and making him for a short time to be as if a true animal.” So explained the one woman, her obvious intent for Ron was to be doomed as were other she spoke about.

I stood outside in the hall clearly able to listen as she boasted, suggesting how women were superior, rather than equal to men. She denoted how men think naturally as do animals. In part, I had to agree that Ron at least spent a large part of his day thinking only of male pleasures and sex.

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

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

She began again to tell of their goal, that to rid the world of men; as had Circe long ago, she giving no consideration to age, but changing all male humans into some kind of animal from. Her admiration for Circe showed in the way her words flowed, accounting how she would determine the nature of a male and then have him become something similar as a beast. Those who were strong of will became great brutes, Lions, Tigers, Bulls, and the like. Then others who were submissive or she thought as true cowards became other beasts, Dogs, goats, Sheep, and of course, Pigs.

I listened as she told of a man named Kyle; he came into their apartment looking to sell the sisters a new sweeper. His stubborn attitude won out over the early hour, the sisters were not yet fully awake. He kept to his pitch until Marla; she, as I would learn later was one of the sisters, having a head of blonde curls. Marla asked the provocative questions, as of their nice looking bodies.

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

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

Ron blurted out asking of Kyle, he knew him to be another college student. He made mention that Kyle lived in the same building, but on the second floor. He rambled on telling how the three of them, David, Kyle and himself, all were good friends. Kyle originally rented the apartment for David, as it was high above the noisy street, also being quite large and airy, and quite cheap for some odd reason. He sighed and then spoke of the reason now seemed quite apparent.

The more that Ron spoke, his voice became quite shaky. It sounded as if he was getting scared, having boldly approached these women. I would expect that Ron having heard as much as I would be looking for a way to make his escape. He began to speak, suggesting as leaving, when one of the women began to talk.

Her name was Elaine as she so announced, congratulating Ron for his gallantry in coming to help Marla in the hallway. She spoke of his obvious intents, as he had lacked to ask any questions, per say why a pretty woman on the fifth floor of an apartment building was straining, trying to wrangle a male Jackass into an elevator. She laughed recanting how Ron took hold of the ropey tail, wrenching it up and forward, the discomfort forcing a stubborn animal into the elevator; and then going the extra distance to helping place the animal into the holding pen. Her conversation continued as if to suspect Ron knew the animal was not always such, but might have once been human.

Ron and I both heard of what the women talked about earlier, so his inklings, if any were quite correct. Kyle Barnes, his good friend stood transformed into being a large and virile male Jackass. The one sister told how he had finished his changing just two hours ago. She sneered, said how they liked to toy with those they change, taunting them into arousal, filling their victims with beastly lust, as the human mind battles with the onset of instincts.

He, Kyle she told would join David, my brother on a farm, but as for Ron, the sisters needed to confer.

Marla twanged in, her silly sounding, childish voice, telling of their meeting with David just two weeks to this very day. She thought he was so sincere, handsome too! She was reminded of a gallant steed when he came to their door, insisting of his need for quiet, being frustrated by the noise of another man meeting his new future. When she saw him blush it suggested her glorious stallion, was really other than a mighty steed.

Then Edna announced her name, as she asked Marla to get the book. She spoke, her voice low and sounding seductive too, but had tinny brash sound that made my blood run cold. Grumbling at Marla, saying she was but a goofy minded girl. Telling as reminding her, she thinks handsome men should remain, handsome! Edna saw through to what David was, brash, a stubborn streak a mile wide. His true personality doomed him in her mind, she seeing how he became easily aroused. It was of her suggestion he looked more like a horny male Donkey. Elaine agreed, and silly Marla giggled her agreement, both mentioning of how David did so plead and cry showing himself, to be a coward. It was this and other reasons why the three Sisters thought themselves as doing the world a favor, ridding it of yet another, MAN!

According to their words, my brother David stands now as one very fine Donkey, a male Jack! Once they moved David to the farm, his mind degraded to that of a horny Jack. His basic delight in feeling himself buried deep, thrusting like a jackhammer, and living life as does a male donkey.

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

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

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

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

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

Edna seemed on the offensive, she taunting Ron, telling in detail about his good friend David being then as a farm stud. She implied that Kyle would soon join him, but by her demeaning desire that his memories were not obliterated. Instead, Kyle knew of what he was, how it felt, and had to battle to keep the equine instincts from taking him ever deeper into being a brute animal.

She chided Ron for thinking of the Sisters as being fools, when instead she was soon to make him the fool. Laughing at Ron for being a friendly, helpful person, bold and brash enough, seeing a woman leading a Jackass into an apartment house elevator, and then ask her not one question, why!

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

Marla and Elaine spoke in unison, ordering Ron to walk into their living room. The moans I heard from Ron as the two went to work removing his clothing, he mumbling how they were stripping him naked.

It was Marla and her silly way of talking, she mentioning that he would soon find David, Kyle, and maybe some other friends from the local college.

This Marla, her mind worked on the simple things that most of us take from granted. She liked to taunt her victims, telling how animals act, mate, and the sensations they might realize once in the form of some animal.

As Ron groaned and must have already been under their spell, he would otherwise have fought them to escape such a fate and doom.

Marla continued her taunting, telling things about dull ole David, his easy transition into being a sturdy donkey. She told of their recent victim Kyle, he being so stubborn trying to make a sale, his attitude suggested of being above the rank and file men, and thus they decided his better form was that of a giant Andalusia Donkey and a virile Jack.

Edna began asking her sisters of what Ron reminded them of, as if casting lots, and being quite democratic she wanted each sister to vote.

Elaine took note of Ron and his exceptionally muscular body, he having been in weight lifting for some years. She quipping him as the proverbial bull form the china shop. To her suggestion, a wave of witchery power made Ron grunt out a painful moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I stood there watching Ron and seeing only the back of each sister’s head.

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

Groaning something awful, Ron stood looking my way and saw me peeking at him.

His arms and hands hung down as if pressed by some unknown force. His clothing gone I saw his skin tone changing to deeper shades. As Ron went to the sun tanning lounge, his general tan was fast turning to a deep black; looking more like leather than human skin.

I looked at him shivering, his boldness now drained, as he was scared half to death. Waiting on every word and phrase of the Sisters, Ron felt anxiety reflecting in an erection that the sisters seemed to enjoy, and I could easily see. His normally bulging muscles were changing, rearranging him from standing, as does a human. The first signs suggesting his new self were just beginning.

As from within the fireplace came up a wisp of smoke, Ron’s clothing, wallet and identification began to smolder, flaming up, and soon lay as a light ash.

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

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

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

He snorted, it sounded just like I remember a bull did once at the Nature Center.

Snorting expanded his nostrils, as they pressed outward and began to merge with his upper lip. At that moment, he closed his eyes, giving me to wonder if his sensation of pain had reached some intolerable level.

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

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

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

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

Bovine shaped nostrils flared, hearing Elaine remark more about how he would remain able to think, knowing and realizing, learning to graze, sniff cow butts, and then mount and breed as would a bull.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Sisters gave a rather sensual moan as all three sat on their couch watching a nice guy become a bestial brute. Their attention was captured seeing as his ribs began to barrel outward. The ribs made more space for the multi number of stomachs a bovine has, as too his bodily organs would likely grow much bigger on account his body weight might top a thousand pounds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whirling faster in small circles, Ron seemed obvious to all there, as snot dripped out nostrils in long trailing strings. With his mouth open and showing a toothy grin, a thick black tongue reached outward and licked at the trailing strings of snot.

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

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

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

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

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

Now he stood almost a real bull, jet black of fur covering a body made of rigid toned muscles, Ron cocking his head again to see of what he then felt happening.

As his body changed becoming bovine in shapes and toughness, his maleness was straining to conform. A jerk and some shivers made me note what had to be a strange sensation, as from his deep groin I saw his testicles swelling.

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

His barely intelligible words spoken, making all there sit up and take notice.

The Sisters too having each a stunned expression, they turning to look at her sister, mouths open as if showing the utter surprise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if in slow motion, the lengthening shaft pressed itself out of the sheath. Inching out it swelled to something larger than even Elaine gasped of what she saw hung there before her lusting eyes. Soon it stood out erect, elongated, narrow at the end but thickening to remind me of a summer sausage where it reentered the sheath.

A shaft all hot pink flesh, looking slick and oily, the sheath feeler hairs stuck and clinging to its stout skin. It was a major contrast to Ron standing there with his blackened furry hide.

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

The Sisters watched Ron begin to work his new maleness. The Sisters sat all turning their heads in unison, watching as seeing three long jetting streams of bovine semen. It roared out the end of Ron’s erect shaft, boiling out mixed with white juices and splattering on one already well, adorned spot of the living room wall.

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

After a long moment the first round of male bovine masturbation Ron took a deep breath and then sighed as if to show his relief. The sisters sat there chattering amongst themselves, occasionally chiding Ron, gabbing about how he made a very nice looking bull, and looking at that very messy living room wall. Undoubtedly as if from past transformational conquests, this section of the wall held many dried splatters of differing colors, all of male semen, from those the sisters changed to be as animals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The throbbing sensations Ron could muster, making his bovine penis somehow vibrate, as if she might then know that what she did was quite pleasing him.

Marla laid her head against the broad thighs, as Ron began to make slow back and forth pelvic moves. The moves simulated his learning the patterns for humping a cow. As he stood now mature in size, bovine of species, and quite male as a bull, his calmness suggested to me he found his new self as a unbelievable sort of thrill.

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

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

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

Edna got up and opened a footstool, removing out from its compartment, a halter made of rope.

Holding the rope halter in front of her well endowed, chest, she chanted some words; I believe she spoke them in Latin.

I gawked at Ron, seeing he enjoyed now her touching, my own pants beginning to tent upward again, as seeing this I moaned a little too loudly.

Elaine turned toward me, her eyes widened, she smiling and screaming, pointed at me, exclaiming of Ronny has a very inquisitive friend!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kyle remembered me, knowing David and having come to stay at our house many times. He just sauntered over toward me, his monster male organ swaying like some fire hose. He pawed at me urging if asking and wanting of me to do something, having his wishful hope of my helping him be again a man, or by the way he stood and displayed his giant black shaft, it was there for me to enjoy.

It was only a few moments later when a rollup steel door opened, as Edna and Elaine stood on the loading dock with a monster of a bull, as all three were longing to catch sight of me.

Ron now on all fours, stood bullish and calm, acting as if a tame pet. His total lack of concern for having become a bull was to me upsetting. Worse than that he had the keys to his truck, it being my only cheap way home

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

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

The women walked down the steps, and with closing the corral gate, they locked it; then tossed the two each a carrot.

Elaine announced bold as well as brash and openly to the two new animals, informing them both of their shipment to a farm. She said an old woman name of Hazel Bell managed a farm, and would take good care of them, if they behaved. She wanted to impress upon the two that allowing their natural instincts and sexual drives to take control would keep them in the good graces of the three sisters.

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

I waited and watched for some time until feeling assured the sisters had returned upstairs to their apartment.

As I approached Ron, Kyle remembering me seemed to understand that the Bull was our mutual friend, Ron. Turning together to face me, Ron bellowed his feelings. The Jackass walked over to stand close, giving my hand a friendly lick.

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

Ron went first, tugged along, he walking aimlessly up the gangplank, and into the large truck. The older woman, Hazel was her name; tied Ron by his rope to a steel ring mounted in the very rear of the cargo area.

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

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

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

At fifty miles per hour and hung over the truck’s iron truss rods I could not move much. Both Kyle and Ron were feeling similarly I suspect. The ride offered them time to reflect and think, as vivid scenes of their transforming before those sisters must have given some feelings of embarrassment, or humiliation.

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

Kyle standing above me was so enormous, as if becoming a draft horse size of being a different breed within the species of Jackasses. As from my short encounter with him after he became that animal, his demeanor remained intact. Mom noted at the diner table one night when he came to visit his stubborn attitude toward most anyone suggesting he do something different than what he thought proper. Oddly the fact the sisters made him as a Jackass seemed authorized. Kyle showed his determination first in the fifth floor hallway, and then when I met him in the corral.

Personally I thought Kyle gave in to his situation, as if the raw sensuality of gaining such a huge male organ caused him to become excited about its coming use. Although he seemed nervous and obviously unaccustomed to standing on all fours, walking and knowingly realizing how a herbivore eats and needs to live must have caused him to urinate, and do it often.

As I was lying there unable to move a foot right or left, Kyle stood directly above me in the load bay. His feelings of anxiety were expressed by giving forth several, stinking showers of hot Jackass urine.

Twice though his shower began first off from between the heavy wooden slats that made the load bed, I was doused with long strings of white Jackass verity of sexual juices. The later flood of urine only turned into a musky mist, this suggesting his having a heightened sense of anxiety. Whether as a Jackass or otherwise, he then masturbated himself, spewing onto the floor of that old truck his load of changing semen. As the urine acted like some thinner, the mixture then rained from between the crevasses in the load bed.

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

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

We went through city traffic and out the freeway until coming to a dirt road that led along a river to a country farm.

Unbelievably even to me today, I suspect my fantasizing after the musky smelling spray lulled me to fall dangerously into a time of slumber.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thing stiffened becoming very hard, showing his excited arousal over seeing me, and wishing to be near to me. I eyed this massive male organ for the first time up and close, the flat ended and flared knob seemed near impossible for such to ever fit into a mare. I fantasized for a long minute, thinking how even if erect that blunt thing must be some horrible pain when it is jammed into a lusty mare.

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

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

In that split second of perverted indecision my movement was stopped by hearing a husky voice from behind me. Turning quickly, I pivoted on one knee to look up into the aged face of Hazel Bell.

Her face showed her years, but otherwise she stood there looking strong and healthy, maybe a benefit from living on a working farm.

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

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

I announced that the Donkey was once my older brother!

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

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

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

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

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

Those changed and being then a prime stock helped Hazel to sell them to proper and caring folks that saw an animal and felt love for them as a pet. She explained it was different than slavery, as those being sold were then as animals and by her choice were sent to a place they could live out their lives in a loving environment.

She made comment about my brother David, he having first fought the onslaught of his instinctive drives, learned in a week his trade so well, he reacted favorably to her suggestion he be leased out for a stud.

I stood there silently thinking of my learned brother, his five years in college were a waste. The wonder of what to tell mother, how does one explain gracefully that what was a member of your family was transformed. How would mom take the news of her oldest son becoming a Donkey Jackass and stud? Worse yet, could I say it nicely of how David has since willingly preferred to remain a stud animal, mounting mares and female equines; giving up his humanity, plans for a bright future, and even his belief in religion, something our father would never be in agreement!

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

Hazel saw the nudge, knew the play was one of wishing to be recognized, she suggested I ask him his name. I did as suggested, saying “David,” and doing it with a questioning sort of twang in my voice.

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

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

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

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

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

I stepped down off the fence, walking with open arms to greet and give his mighty neck a brotherly hug.

No sooner were we acting like two brothers meeting for the first time from a long parting, than Kyle bolted from the other end of the corral; he prancing over, eagerly wishing to feel my love.

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

Hearing this I whirled around, feeling some reasonable disgust she would treat my brother as if he was to remain forever a stud animal.
Hazel is a very understanding person, as she saw my reaction of indignation to her telling David to come. As I walked to the fence wishing to give my speech on what David was going to do and where he would go; she just shook her head as if to say, “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As my friend Ron seemed so bold, the sisters thought his proper sentence was becoming a Black Angus bull. Hazel pointed toward the far barn, making note that Ron retained his wits except when feeling to lust for and during his breeding with cows. She did note his personal sorrow after mounting and thrusting his sensual shaft into the rear of a cow. The human sociological morays reminded fully intact and caused him remorse when he could realize his bestial behavior.

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

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

The man awoke strung up by his forepaws from ropes attached to steel rings the sisters drilled into their living room ceiling.

Marla went about abusing the rapist, he changing into a giant size of Airedale dog. Edna told in exact detail how Marla taunted the poor man sexually, while talking and telling him he would be her sex toy for some time to come.

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

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

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

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

As of those fortunate enough to be sold to Hazel, the bulk were placed into some breeding stud farm. Horse, donkeys, goats, rams, boar hogs, bulls, cows, an occasional bear or lion, most were men, some lurid women, and a few elderly men the sisters unknowingly rejuvenated by their spell, making these into the most aroused breeding animals she had seen, ever!

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

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

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

To her unbelievable offer I said a flat and harsh, no thanks!

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

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

David let loose a ragged sounding bray as if to agree to my opinions. His reaction made me jump out of my skin, as Hazel split, laughing at a foolish young man, and one sex minded Donkey.

It was then she asked for my name, wanting to be on a more personal basis when we conversed.

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

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

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

The tour done, Hazel suggested I could be near David and or Kyle, but was rather adamant I keep my distance from Ron. She could note from his demeanor and active desire to mount and breed cows, as that he was a womanizer’ when human.

I knew that to be quite true, he having often told of his nightly conquests.

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

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

So then, Ron is free of giving any consideration to what people think of how he acts, simply because those who might see him do his thing, they see only a brute beast being what they would expect from any animal.

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

Sitting on that fence I stopped my wondering when hearing s wimpy little voice that called for me to look.

Twisting and turning my head I saw only the two dozen or so corrals and the adjoining barns and the main house. Even as I stood bracing my stance upon that fence, those who had some wits yet and were of course as animals, all stopped what they were doing to see what might be happening.

The small voice called to me again several times before looking down I saw a husky goat standing in the corral there before me, it had its head tilted up high and tried to ogle me with his square yellow peepers.

I responded with a simple, “Yes,” making it sound as if I were asking a question.

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

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

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

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

I felt some assurance he was friendly and thought then to step down off the fence and sit inside the corral, meanwhile listening to him speak and tell of his situation.

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

Ben mentioned that he thought Marla to be some voluptuous woman, she acting like some lusty whore, offering him a night he would never forget.

He told me of his going to her apartment and there how surprised he was when entering inside and met her two older sisters. His first inkling was the three were some sex triangle, and he would be molested sexually by all three, and for the entire night.

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

To his statement the sisters began to laugh. He soon discovered the reason for their humor when even against his own will they forced him to undress and stand upon that pedestal. His worst fears were to be realized, expecting the sisters were into mind control and bondage, as they turned his wordings into reality and fact. As he would not be goaded into anything they changed that by making him become a goat, and was then to their delight goaded into being a big male goat!

He would turn his head and tilting it some as if eyeing his changed body, while telling me in detail of how it felt.

I sat there mesmerized and drinking in every sordid detail. Some of what I heard linked properly to what I saw Ron going through, he first off showing his indignation.

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

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

A few nanny goats came close as we talked, lip nibbling at his ears, and one taunting his sheath, he jumped to his hoofs and bleating wildly drove them off.

Sounding his disgust over nanny goats constantly wanting him to be sexual and sensual had worn off his own excitement for mating with them. He motioned to his sheath, making verbal note how after mounting and mating those nanny goat leather tough vagina’s, his penis thought red and hot wore a calloused spot on the tip.

Ben then did a body stretch, twisting his head and turning it right and left, as then lowered his horns directly at my chest, this made me get a little worried for my general safety.

Time and the afternoon passed as I listened to Ben telling of a story that warranted it be written down and kept of all to read.

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

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

On his second time for quenching his thirst he did become aroused, gaining a stout erection, and stood thinking about mounting one lusty nanny goat, she almost as large as was Ben.

Bleating harshly, he walked rather stiff legged back to where I sat.

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

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

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

Ben went on talking of his sensual sensations as the sisters changed him into a lusty minded male goat. Yet his erection did not soften or recede back into his shaggy sheath, but stood out stiff and occasionally would wag front to rear.

He kept crowding closer to me, bringing his hot red shaft ever nearer, as if offering it for my touch or when he mounted the fence again, his shaft almost hit me in the face.

The stern voice of Hazel telling me to come out of the corral as a supper was prepared for me before I should leave the farm.

As I pushed myself to stand up, Ben made his move, turning and with a hard pelvic thrust he nearly jammed his red shaft inside my half opened mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once Ben became a goat his first month was a living hell of drug addiction induced hallucinations, cold sweats, screaming fits, and when placed with those forty nanny goats, he turned to mating them as if out of his mind.

Night and all day, every day for what was two months more Ben rarely ate, but stood mounted, humping savagely, until his body and testicles were cleaned of the drugs that got him there in the first place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hazel responded sharply, informing me that of those who sucked being as men with having oral sex on Ben, they lost their humanity and changed gender becoming for him as horny nanny goats for his good pleasure.

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

Eating supper with Hazel had me feeling quite foolish. Ben had me believing his goat shit story, almost infecting me to the point of thinking about sucking his red shaft. The thought of doing such was never once in my mind until Ben got me feeling sentimental, a little horny, and seeing his perked shaft I knew he put it before me for just such a reason.

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

My options were limited by the problem of Ron’s truck keys were burned up in the sister’s fireplace along with his clothing. If I called a key specialist, had the truck re-keyed, drove home, what do I tell my mother, and then too, what do I explain where Ron was; it was one huge travesty!

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

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

Eating my diner stopped as Hazel began talking to me of those most interested in my being company or if I would not mind, me becoming some male animal’s cowered lover.

The thought of becoming an animal was not beyond my comprehension or that long remembered fantasy I held since my youth. Yet to be changed of gender was not appealing at all, imagining in that moment of being mounted and screwed cross eyed by some oversexed male animal, no, no way!

Yet, the thought of becoming some male animal’s cohort and equal while remaining male did have some appealing possibilities.

Hazel told me of a Dartmoor pony stallion wanting another pony as his partner and friend. According to Hazel he met the sister while carrying a horny story he copied from off the internet. Marla retrieved it as they undressed him, reading it, the story told of a young college man becoming scientific fodder. An unscrupulous college professor injected the young man with an experimental serum, it causing him to transform into a sexually excited Dartmoor pony stallion used for stud.

His own sexual delights foretold of what the sisters did to him, leaving him his rational mind to know and remember, while thinking he would go insane being and living as a beast; their assumption turned out to be quite wrong.

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

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

I read down the long three column list. It had by that day and date totaled his successful breeding to the remarkable amount of 2,127 mares to date!

Again, according to Hazel and her book, Kip was one of the first she purchased, near to ten years back. I thought for a second, my mind working on the figure he had bred, divided by the ten years, Kip stood as stud 212 times per each year he was a pony, “wow.”

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

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

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

Explaining of Kip and his request, he was growing tired of continual breeding sessions, and was of wanting a duplicate partner to help stretch the load. Hazel had seen me eyeing Kip, as his slender physical body was the ideal of perfection and conformation to make a pony stallion become a true champion, and a fine stud.

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

Meanwhile I had some second pondering thoughts, of my mother, father, and those I had a care for back at home. The disappearance of David was terrible enough for mom, she crying and worried constantly, until Ron offered to drive me to check things out, and report back.

I shivered from the thought of standing before those sisters, they thinking my transforming into a pony stallion to be something delightful from a perverted wish to make men unhappy.

That odd thought of theirs had bothered me some and after asking the question to Hazel I was informed of another misconception of those vile three sisters.

As much they wanted to inflict pain and agony on men in general, they allowed some to retain their human memories, and rational thinking minds. This human ability was cause for those luck few to become immortal, or gaining a much increased lifespan. If those men could adapt to find their living as animals to be somehow pleasurable, they likely would learn to enjoy life again, if from a very different sort of perspectives.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I took a step back, there locked into a steel bar cage stood her husband. As if she could not or dared not allow him out and be seen in public, Hazel kept him safe and for her occasional lust driven need.
In the light of a hundred watt bulb stood what could only be called a monster and Minotaur. Standing with his head snug to the floor joists supporting the floor above, his huge bovine bull head reminded me of Ron, except this guy had horns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I took notice how as he spoke his hairy clawed fingers played and twisted a very large bovine bullish sheath.

He did this with an almost unconscious action, stopping on the occasion when his fondling fumbled, and a knot formed in the long feeler hairs that extended from the open end of his sheath. Seeing his own folly he would turn away, fixing the knots, and then facing me as he wove his story about the sisters coming to their farm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seeing his obvious anxiety over me and what might be my intentions I spoke to him, wondering if he still retained any of his human rationale.

After calling to him I announced Hazel’s plan for me to become his new partner, giving him time to relax from his exceptionally busy and wearing schedule of being a stud.

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

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

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

Kip listed the uncomfortable side of being a pony such as, limited dexterity, no hands, the usual human things we take for granted become impossible when standing on all fours and having hoofs. I laughed at the depth he could still think, as his one disability and discomfort he used as an example tended to be quite profound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edna told him when he was masturbated to pour out his retained volume of semen, after he spewed away what was left of his human semen, this adding to the damnation of the spell, sealing his pony form as permanently fixed.

Kip stood terrified as he could understand the sisters dealing with a woman, selling him as if he were property.

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

When I saw the sun gleaming bright red as in came over the eastern hills, a thought popped into my mind, a plan to stop this ongoing insanity.

The sisters three must leave the apartment if only to purchase food and the normal necessities of life. My plan was to get an apartment across the street and watch them day and night. I had to learn their daily and weekly schedule before I dare to attempt entering the apartment and setting fire to their diabolical library. As once they were without their book of referral, the ability to spell men into their doom would soon wane and fade.

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

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

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

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

Piously thinking, what then if one became as an animal would be your only real satisfaction. The answer to this is direct and simple, continuing of the species, reproduction, and as termed by humans, we call it plainly, sex! Even the Bible tells of such as the flowers of the valley they neither toil or put up stores, as plants or animals but live for today and do not concern themselves with the morrow.

As I sit thinking quite often, I try to stay near David much to the time. David is a Jackass and having his thoughts clouded by the bestial pangs for things dealing of reproduction, or things of sensation, he comes at times an affectionately listens to my pondering. He and I were very close as brothers, this being different from so many, so it was natural for him to listen to his young brother as he would dream and think of things in the future.

My short time around Hazel and those who became as animals has degraded my moral thinking. Now when I sit and talk to David I get some thrill from watching him become sexually aroused, his long Ass shaft coming into view as he listens to me and responds in what is to him now a common reaction showing joy.

Just the other day I sat at the water trough, David stand near by as I rambled verbally about my becoming a Dartmoor pony stallion, if Hazel had her way with me. The reaction of David hearing how I might join him and the others, as a sex minded virile animal used primarily for breeding purposes, was a real thrill. So enthused was David that his long black shaft erupted with spewing a spray of cum juices and a virtual Jackass load of semen.

See him spew as he did I stopped talking and had an expression so disturbing to David that he turned around and galloped off, his black shaft slapping the outer side of those muscular thighs, flaying it wildly as he was embarrassed for what he had done.

That was an upsetting time, but to me it was a realization that my goodly moral brother was not dead to remembering of things human. His morality lived yet, as no stud animal would feel embarrassment over doing what David had before his younger brother.

David was embarrassed for what he did, but that was a striking comparison to what happen just two nights ago.

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

As I slept a dream kept coming to me. I saw and could almost feel things, seeing myself standing butt naked on the Sisters living room pedestal. There kneeling down was Pricilla, she being the sexiest of the three sisters was toying with my changing maleness. I saw myself becoming that Dartmoor pony stallion, the one Hazel was suggesting would be for me a safe harbor from explaining what happened to David and Ron.

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

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

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

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

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

I sat there stunned to see her just as casual as could be, lift her head without dropping my penis from out her mouth. She gave a disconcerting look at me, then turning her head to look at an exasperated Hazel; she nearly ripped my shaft off at the base.

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

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

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

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

Without so much as a word of discord, Pricilla turned to me and plopped down on the foot end of my bed. Then as she looked directly at my face, Pricilla told how she knew of what Hazel offered, as me becoming a Dartmoor pony stud.

As I heard her explain what she knew I realized early on that only Hazel could have told her about what we had so privately, or so I thought, discussed. When she began telling me of what would happen if I were to agree and be then silenced; I looked at Hazel with a face that suggested to her treason.

Pricilla, she is the real and true sense of the word pervert. Why even while she spoke of how under her guidance, and while I would be transforming, she would care for me; but her care was something dark and vile as, as she talked her hands reached out to toy with my maleness once more.

The more she talked of what her idea was for me being a pony stud had me thinking of the plan as something disgusting. I was fast becoming turned off to the offering of Pricilla, and in as much the suggestive thing Hazel thought was for me to be as she called it often, “A safe harbor.”

Once her propositioning was complete, I needed not to answer then, as Pricilla just stood up, and then walked out of my bedroom.

I watched out the bedroom window, seeing as Hazel walked behind Pricilla when she exited the house. Hazel was really pissed, and kept talking loudly to Pricilla all the way to where she opened the door to her bright sun yellow Hummer-3.

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

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

More words of anger and disgust of the other, as then Pricilla changed the subject and asked Hazel if she wanted to see her new car perform. Pricilla began like some car salesman, pointing out different options her vehicle had; and then mentioned it was a gift from some man.

Charles was his name and accordingly Pricilla said he was already standing as a sire of Hazel’s farm, shipped there with two Mules a few weeks back. She laughed with some horrid laugh, and tossing her hair and head like some wild filly, she made mention the world was rid of another fool realtor.

I suspect then the landlord and building manager had crossed the un-struck line in the sand, and had fallen totally to all fours, a Lion and by dumb luck sold to the local zoo. As with his demise the relatives probably did not wish to own an apartment building in near downtown.

The man went to check on the building, see its condition and take a picture of the front for some coming advertisement.

The very scent of an untainted man in the building would be enough for Marla to alert her sisters.

No doubt they swooped down on him like a flock of vultures on some prey.

Pricilla was so proud of what they did to this poor man, she had photos of him; she reaching to inside her Hummer and removing them from under the sun visor.

Hazel looked at them in the dull orange glowing light of her mercury vapor security lights, then pocketing one of them in her bathrobe pocket.

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

Hazel returned quickly to the house, going to her kitchen for a mug of still warm coffee. I joined her there, and sitting at the kitchen table I listened to an angered woman dragon of just how the Sisters were an ongoing insult to her, her Minotaur husband, and of her three sons.

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

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

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

Reaching for the photo, Hazel took out two pictures, one she said was the new photo taken of the realtor man, and the other was of her three sons before Marla had them sold to another farm.

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

There I saw her three sons, doomed to being as animals, steers likely, ear tagged and ready for shipment.

Hazel said the black and white one was Jeffery, as his older brother was the larger animal to the rear and right in the picture, he being named John. Jeremy, the youngest was just eighteen when he and his brothers were abducted.

Memories of the three poured out of Hazel, she still thinking back of many fond times of fun and family get to gathers, where they all enjoyed family fellowship.

Then Hazel pointed to the new photo, taken without her knowing the bull had even come to her farm. She pointed to the picture and mentioned it was taken at the pasture to her farm’s eastern boundary.

Looking as if saddened for some reason, hazel pointed to the picture and made a poignant notation of the bull wearing a nose ring. Accordingly, this was what the sisters did to someone made a bovine and not granted the continuations of human memories and learned knowledge; basically leaving them then as purely ignorant, and brute beasts.

So Charles the Realtor was nose ringed, and already set with a numbered brand as he stood for his bestial graduation photo.

One might think that even from all what happened I would have had a lousy night of sleep, but once I hit the hay, I slept until the sounds of farm life turned into a din of beastly cries.

I awoke and felt again energized to meet the new day as only a young man can, and just as I did whether at home or living under Hazel’s roof.

Then there was Hazel and her constant prodding offer for me to accept, then after giving myself the sexual perversions of Pricilla, I should live and do as would a pony stallion at stud. Yet her posing the suggestion went as far as when I ate my meals she had them prepared as if I was already a stallion. Breakfast saw my favorite American cereal Cheerio’s in one bowl and then along side it stood another bowel of Alfalfa tablets. These two along with some warm water was my three meals for the day.

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

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

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

The more I pondered what to say and explain back at home to mom and or Ron’s relatives of the disappearance of their beloved ones; my passion for slipping away into some other oblivion seemed an easy way out of a difficult situation.

Constantly Hazel would ask or prod me by using everything from innuendo, to placing out the British Equestrian stud book and opened to the photo section showing Dartmoor stallions standing ready for being a prime stud breeder animal.

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

That very masculine male animal need for rut and the personal delight found from having a higher sexual sensation, this teamed with the raw freedom given to animals in the way they would breed, made me excited, while also making me feel indecent for even giving such a thing real consideration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


I had a lot to think about, and hazel went her way as I returned to my room to sleep and maybe decide.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pricilla wanted me to become a Dartmoor pony, and so did Hazel if for my keeping the story safe from mom and family. Pricilla had her own reasons for seeing me as a pony, she being bestial of desire, enjoying a man as he changed, taunting, and from her passionate ways she helped those she enjoyed to degrade mentally.

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

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

I was very open and maybe foolish, but I asked Hazel about the sight, mentioning of two similar names that I had noticed appeared on signs above certain stalls.

This only started another long and philosophical conversation, as from where I learned how the Sisters found so many to convert without raising the suspicions of the local authorities.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The four days were not without my learning a fair amount about the Sisters, they constantly arguing, and during that span of time they caught themselves a prize.

A religious young man came knocking at apartment doors, his cause was one to bring more lost souls into the church. His knocking at the door of the Sisters ended his crusade.

I had to listen as the Sisters beckoned him to step inside their apartment. They went to work on him in some due haste, he stammering and yelling, soon screams and crying, as likely he found himself standing on a pedestal in the Sister's living room.

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

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

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

One very sad feeling Highland pony mare stood a corral belonging like herself to Hazel, she was a he and one young crusader stood then devoid of a cause, she waiting for her ride to someplace a bit lower than Heaven.

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

I had thought of going downstairs and at the very least, offer him or her some comforting words; but doing so, I might be caught, and then what of my plans.

I felt bad for the fellow, an anxious pony, waiting for Hazel and her truck to come; she milling in circles and trying to figure out how and why she felt so out of place.

A sad feeling came over me as I watched Hazel load the new pony mare into her truck, paying the Sisters their due. I stayed there and sat watching, seeing when the Sisters returned to their lair, and Hazel offered a few comforting words to her new prize pony.

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

I would have more than enough time to make my way down one flight of stairs and to the Circe loving Sisters apartment.

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

Grumbling to myself, I stood inside the foyer to the apartment, wondering best what I could find or do to help those the Sisters damned.

I went directly to the living room bookcase, and eyed the dozen or so large ledgers setting on the lower shelf. Glass doors and a latching lock stood in my way of getting a look at the ledgers, of reading them for some possible way to return Ron and or David back to the way they were before having met the Sisters.

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

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

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

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

Carrel, brought to the sisters several other of the male friends her husband had, each taking his rightful place at her side, some being as dogs, and other giving up everything, they turned away from what was anything dealing with humanity, cherishing bestial life, and like so many others, they sought for some fun times while still required to act in an animalistic manner.

I read on of a young vacationer by the name of George, he went with Carrel to the apartment, and there standing before the sisters, he pleaded to become as a Fox-morph.

Foolhardy, I read of the ledger and of those changed by the Sister’s powers. I spent too much time reading, personally captivated by what happens to some who rather felt and found their transformation as if something quite pleasurable. So very pleasing, that I too thought seriously of my offering myself as a Highland pony stallion and live then comforting a young mare with my soothing shaft.

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

The sound of the elevator announcement bell ringing at the end to the third floor hallway did much to make me scarf up three of the ledgers, and head out the front door, for some reading late afternoon reading.

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

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

I sat listening to the commotion below as I had the ledgers lying open, spread about the bed, that hallowed place where my brother David slept.

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