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

Reading this aloud began more than what I expected!

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

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

As if a vale of strange lustful passion came and surround me, I saw the a vision, one of me sleeping in bed and by the side of my bed stood such a Demoness.

She prepared to lure me further into her side of the evil realms, as if by her toying with me I would become as hers to do with and make or force me to tow her will.

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

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

The seeing into her mind caused me some sense of horror, but this died away with the sight of what would cause a stallion Haflinger the early state of an arousal.

There, entering the scene stood two handsome mares, mares that once were men, but by the willful desire of some sister of the three sisters, they came to know the sensations as do animals, and as well the pangs of passion known to mares.

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

I felt astonished that these two mares acted with such want for me to pleasure them, one coming to an abrupt halt before me. She unlike her companion did eye me as I did her. She seeing my building sense of lust, then whirled, raised her tail and stood making a stallion an offer he could not refuse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet the spell I spoke did something to me, I felt educated into the passions known to stallions and the sires of great herds. It was for me profound, as if something I felt then a need and want to make it permanent.

The demons, and or that Demoness I saw in my dream now stood beckoning at me, suggesting, making mention the way is easy to be and get what I felt of as my true want.

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

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

This time she spared me from her sensual offer, but instead caused me to feel the anguish only a devilish demon could do to someone who was born as a human.

Those pleading and soft beckoning turned then to harsh and angered words, telling of what would come, of me and what I am, of what they would do to me, unless the ledgers be not returned.

I felt as if thousands and maybe millions of small sand pebbles began to strike at me, all skating about as then encircling around me. The spun and screamed like the banshee devils that come from hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Awakening, I stood in a room ringed with aged brick and my head double strapped with halter, bridle, and a bit forced into my mouth.

Straining to speak my thoughts, the garbled sounds that issued out my mouth were those made by some intelligent mind, it having limited physical abilities, of which intelligible speech speaking was not a part.

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

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

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

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

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

Undeniably, I was as a stallion pony!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As soon as my will lowered and let the instincts flow through that equine stallion body, the ritual of equine mating rites began in earnest.

I felt it come over me, this surge of fascination, and a wave of bold impassionate lust for other than the concerns and wants of the mare; but as if I were alone in the entire world. Everything I felt or wished then related to the feeling of my male shaft bearing deeply into the mare. I sensed some male will for wishing to dominate the mare, but this seemed as if a far cry from the brash want to know the feelings and sensations for being then as a stallion and stud.

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

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

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

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

Urgency of that moment, my lack of coordination and probing, and a warm hand of friendship took me in tow, pushing, pointing, directing what I could not see.

A turning of the head to eye and nod my thankful greeting to that personage for their help brought a round of laughter from those watching the equine orgy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meanwhile and in and between these passing concerns and thoughts did glimmer those brute bestial urges. I lay there feeling lust building in my loins for yet another encounter with that lovely mare.

Passion turned to comparisons, she and her ways as differing from other times, just a few occurrences; fond remembered of romps that meant nothing but were for two wanting people as something to try and mark as a feeling to be compared to for the rest of their life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mentally, I speak my mind at them and their master, cussing and cursing the Devil master himself for the ways and wherefores of how they make my life a constant turmoil.

The passion and delight of what I had as a fond hope for being as I am, is all but a forlorn fantasy from what lifestyle of a stallion and muted mind has as to live and endure.

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

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

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

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

Concerns for others is a human thing, although I do notice that they too occasionally lack of any thought as to what they do might and or will affect the lives of others.

My own indecency of manners by being as in the form of an animal one needs not be of concern for what I do and how it may affect or effect those around me; save maybe if I stand in harness with another of my kind to lash out with teeth and in a fit of disdain.

When first I arrived into this form the tickling of flies walking where as when I was human they never had their chance to give me such sensation, his I felt a thrill and delight. As of the past and present many things and nearly all thoughts have changed, the flies walking on my ass and in the face, around the eyes, are as a curse upon my body. Some are so large they might bite me, making welts, itchy spots to twist and scourge me to near insanity.

Remembering back the near beginning of my time being as a stallion and stud, this one fly did come and begin walking and cleaning the very end of my erect and exposed shaft; I having just done my first mare, stood then proud and felt a tickling thrill from the fly as it walked, licked, and poked his head up that hole in the anterior end of my gooey slime covered shaft.

Tantalized by flies walking on my body are now distractions and become a less than enjoyable sensation, as they keep my tail and mane busy.

Humans come and do visit, most blessing me with a smooth stroke to remind me of the hairy sensation of what I am and how sleek I look to them.

A rare few come with evil thoughts abounding in their minds and the ways they reach and do feel of me. Some are cruel in their thinking, but of these they all ultimately get around to poking prodding, and or fondling my maleness, sheath, and if for some reason they coax me into an aroused state; then some do more and are vile even to the morbid thinking ways of being an animal and a stallion horse.

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

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

One apartment manager had still the job of renting vacant apartments , especially those suddenly vacated by the occupant after they meet the three women living on the fifth floor.

Ken owned a janitorial cleaning service, and upon receiving a phone call from the apartment building manager, he responded quickly, needing the work since his layoff two years hence from General Motors.

Service truck soon parked out front and as he entered the front entrance, the manager spoke to Ken, but only through a slightly ajar door and he standing inside a completely dark apartment.

Had Ken seen the apartment building manager, he would have run for his life from that cursed place.

Harold, the manager had, had his own very personalized day in the presence of those three sisters, as they informed him of that special fraternity to which they belonged, that being of "The Sisters of Circe.

Likely it was the way Harold stood out from the crowd! He held a certain presence when speaking, assuring by his boisterous manner to keep all around looking at him.

Marla made the first suggestion, one of Harold acting like the male lion over the pride, he the chief sire, and quickly her sister did agree.

Soon enough, and Harold too found himself standing before the sisters, he on that filthy podium they had in the living room, one there for just such visitors as any unsuspecting male human.

He remembers well how he screamed when feeling the growth of a lion's mane about his head, neck, and along the length of his torso, chest, belly, and to his groin.

He must deal constantly with a stiff Loin tail, it getting often caught in a closing door, or sat on, making Harold quite uncomfortable.

His head did change, becoming the full size and contour as that a lion has for his head. Harold lives alone, his wife coaxed from being by his side, she joined the Sisters of Circe, and moved to another town; there she has her own practice, pleasuring herself and selling those men into a bestial world of animalistic slavery.

Ken took his orders and using the elevator, he went to his duties, cleaning the sixth floor apartment, getting it as ready to rent to some apartment dweller, likely another unsuspecting man.

Ken found the apartment as ransacked, torn up by the sisters looking for a young male who knew too much for his own good, and of for their own good as well.

One would think it likely, that with the straightening up and cleaning needed in the apartment, Ken did discover the ledger books belonging to the Sister, opened to the last page read.

He paused to give one a reading, then reading the spell binding that could make from a wishful male human, to become as a pony stallion, knowing, understanding, and permanently remaining as just such a favored animal.

The big book captured his interests and he carefully set them into a black plastic garbage bag, toting them down to his truck, and returning then to finish his work, that is the cleaning away ant trace of David from his student apartment.

His coming and going were not without the notation of three lusty minded sisters.

Ken took his time cleaning, he always said, "A job worth doing, is worth more when done rightly!" Surely by and how he worked at his differing jobs this was true; it was as well true of the three Sister, they believed it was best to take a crude man and make of him something where he could do a woman no harm.

Whistling some religion hymns while he worked, this carried down the cold air registers to the apartments below. The whistling heard by the sisters only alerted them of a man being nearby, but of what Ken whistled as a tune, anything dealing with a saving religion tended to kink the hairs on the back of each womanly neck.

While Ken worked his trade, it happened that Elaine, she the dimwit of the three sisters, did walk up one flight of stair steps and stood in the doorway, as if there to meet and confront a religious person, especially he being a man!

"Hello..." Elaine called out from the doorway of that spacious sixth floor apartment.

Ken hearing the greeting poked his head out from the bedroom doorway, casting a look toward the open front door of the apartment.

"Hello to you to," Ken recanted the greetings.

"You are cleaning up here, I came up to retrieve three big and old books loaned out to the previous dweller up here, they are collectors items, and my sisters and I are quite upset about them," said Elaine, she sounding near heartbroken about the books as if the loss of them were a great tragedy.

"Books," Ken replied quite quickly, "I found lots of schoolbooks, but nothing like any large books or like a ledger."

Ken replied without giving his answer much forethought, mentioning of the books as according to their size, something Elaine never made any mention, especially the word, ledger.

She then knew he had seen the three ledger books, one bearing in it the culmination of spells written by Sisters, others that is of the same perverse faith from so many centuries.

Hurriedly, Elaine left the doorway and scurried down the hallway and to the elevator, returning to the fifth floor, she informed her sisters of what Ken vaguely admitted knowing.

Marla had the best idea, she telling her sisters of once when she wanted to lure a man into her confidence, she baked him some treats.

“The way to a manly heart and head is better to fill his stomach with something tasty, but thoroughly tainted to make him horny and letting his hormones do his speaking.” Marla, she the wisest one of the three sisters, sounded off, as the other two broke up with their own brand of witchery laughter.

“Patty cakes, patty cake, roll it up, and in the over to bake, roast it, toast it, mark it with a royal “C” and leave it outside the door of apartment 6-B.” Marla chanting her silly rhyme had a plan to give Ken the janitor a treat he would nary forget, and likely reminded of it come every morning for the rest of his male life.

Un-be-known to the three sisters, but Ken was a happily married young man. His dear wife and he were as much like the nursery rhyme of Jack Sprat as could be real. Jack was a tall lanky fellow, muscular in the arms from all his having to work doing manual labor jobs.

His dearest wife was must like Misses Sprat, as Ken could eat nothing fat; she ate everything in sight lean or fattening.

The next mid-morning, Marla taking her prided baked cakes with the special blending of rare herbs and such to make of victim into a man wild for passion and willingly ready to tell of all he knew.

Expecting to see a man drooling spit and as ravengenous for sexual pleasuring as were others Marla made some cakes as a gift; the three sisters waited all day but never once did they see Ken come to meet, greet, and look aroused.

A dieter by his nature, when Ken saw the two sweet cakes all wrapped so nice and neat in aluminum foil, he ate his lunch and when finished, put the two cakes into the lunch pail to take home.

“Babe, your provider is home…,” Ken called out as he would every evening step through the doorway leading into the kitchen of his small but clean suburban home.

Tilly would come from where she sat watching television and crying about some sad love dove movie, a bonbon in one hand and a glass of whole milk in the other hand, a smile grimaced on her tearful face, she would give Ken a peck on the cheek and send him off to shower before they set down to diner.

While Ken showered away his day of dust and perspiration; Tilly would unpack his lunch box, finding to her delight the cakes baked by Marla, and her note to Ken about how he should come downstairs and visit the three sisters.

Tilly felt heartbroken her husband might be untrue to her love, she felt such a rage her stomach turned on her and she began to devour the two small cakes.

Marla and her sisters made their worst poisons for the male of the species, and as such, the two cakes Ken brought home were for him to be a wild lust impassionate maniac after he ate them.

Indulgent Tilly was most definitely not male, and so the poisons did to her something similar and as much, different for the planned outcome.

Ken exited the shower room with just his bath towel draped around his waist. He walked from the bathroom adjoining their bedroom. As he opened the door a hand grabbed at his, yanking at him, taking Ken off guard, flinging him spread-eagled over his king size big bed.

Tilly and all her tonnage came to rest knelling and seated over the chest of Ken.

Stunned, and obviously surprised by the sudden wildness of an action he would never expect from his normally slow of motion wife; Ken lay on the bed and was speechless.

Speechless, Ken looked up at his dear wife, she changing before his eyes, her bulky body becoming thinner, slenderer soon, like some sex crazed model of the month in Playboy magazine.

With the towel a thing that fell away when Ken got tossed on his big bed, Tilly and her aroused new nymphomania personality jammed in his mouth two Viagra tablets as she began her lusty delight to force from her hubby an aroused state.

Accordingly, to what Marla had in her perverse sort of plan for Ken if he ate the cakes and came looking with lust in his eyes, his humanity would be passing away. As what Marla planned for Ken, she thought of him as an undiscovered new breed of goat, as if a blending of man and animal to make for her something to taunt, play, and get a good laugh.

Tilly, having eaten the two cakes when filled with sorrow over her hubby losing his faithfulness to her, she was then while seated on his chest, she changing to be a female form of what Marla had planned to see happen to Ken.

“Tilly, “ Ken began to exclaim of what she was and he saw, “No dear, oh no!” Ken said, he felt the Viagra tablets begin to help him feel aroused, as they worked quite quickly on his body chemistry.

Seeing the gaining arousal happening, the radically changing wife of Ken did slither herself into a kneeling position, she straddling his hips and coaxing up into her his expanding male shaft.

The actual act of enjoying a sexual pleasure, whether by personal exciting, or from the sensation only a female could provide; Marla planned her tainting poison to animalize her victim while forcing on them a passion to make all their changing continue to some very bestial ending.

As if Ken had swallowed the cakes, and once begun to change physically, the act of intercourse with another being would in part transfer to them some of what the poison would make then of them both.

Skinny Ken, Marla thought he might find being a Boer breed of a buck, a stud, one prime herd sire, of a male goat; as if this were something deemed to be brutally interesting to Ken, and quite different for a man of such slender a build.

A turnabout of the facts had Tilly becoming from a overly plump woman, she changing into a slender seductress, being as well soon a goat like until after repeated sexual encounters her humanity would slip away into some oblivion.

Her changing of species would by toying with Ken, he too would begin to see, feel, and find some strange enjoyment from a beastly wife and her new manner of delight.

Working at her best, Tilly used her hands to slip, up and in the fully aroused shaft of her then human husband, bemoaning as it moved into her goatishly tight, furry surrounded, and bestially muscular, vaginal opening.

Rhythmic pulsating of the vaginal walls along the ever-increasing length and girth of what Ken had as his male shaft did much for both.

Tilly began to change by sprouting a full body suit of goat wool, it covering her from head to transforming toes.

Excited as he forgot what his wife sat there changing to look like, Ken worked, rutting his male shaft in deeper, delighting his ego as it sunk to new and greater depths. The playtime continued for hours as Tilly began to show an increase of her physical transitions. Her eyes changed from teal green to a bold chrome yellow, as round iris pupils conformed to being goat like, as they became rectangular.

Ken laughed when he saw and watched how Tilly grew goat ears, but his humor felt slighted when out of her furry forehead grew two curving gray colored horns.

At that woeful moment, the reality of what was happening to Tilly finally sunk into the softening brain matter belonging to Ken. A sense of terror and being horrified hit home, as Ken lay looking up at a wife fast becoming as something bestial, like if a playful goat, animal-woman.

Had he thought more about what all he felt, Ken might have taken the trouble to extract his male human shaft before it too began to show visible signs of being like those that hang long and low off the belly of one big buck goat!

Ken found his shaft stuck, whether by what the Viagra caused to happen, or from how his wife and her vagina could then grip at and hold inside her what she desired most at that moment. Aroused by feeling fear from what he saw happening to Tilly, Ken tried extra hard to weasel his self from under and in his dear wife.

"Oh no, no you don't, I got you and you are mine Kenny boy!" Tilly remarking, she feeling her sexual prey trying to inch out and back away from her and those insatiable needs imposed by a sister she did not know existed.

Moaning form all he felt, his sensual side wishing for him to remain there and rut at his then rather animalistic form of wife. Ken felt some sense of terror too, Tilly was never like this to him or during their time together, she being too fat until then, changed and changing, becoming what felt to Ken as the epedemy of lust!

"Tilly, please, you are not the woman I married, you are changed and changing, please let me up, let us talk, you need to see what you have become!" Ken saying, his worried words doing something to Tilly, she slowing her own manner of helping Ken to rut inside her body.

Slowly the thought of self and what she was before having devoured those two small cakes, Tilly reached back her hands from stroking the chest of her husband, to caressing at her perky breasts, furry they be as was the rest of her from head to cloven toes.

"Kenny, my dearest, what on earth has happened, this is not me, I look like an animal!" Tilly expounded, her thoughts of self mingled still with her aroused state, she caressing her upturned tapered furry breasts, her stroking of them made the then black nipples to protrude and standing out, they tingled the suggestive thought to have Ken then give her a sucking.

Looking down along her changed torso, peering out and over, past those succulent breasts, Tilly gave note to how she had changed. She moaning, a seductive groan as if delighted with her thinner self, and the shaggy fur covered thighs. She turned a twisting of her torso, eying then to see she had a tail, the tail like to a goat fixed and mobile above her rump.

"Is this real, is this the true me, Kenny boy, look what has become of your wife, she is..., I am..., in need of more a hearty male than is the likes of you!" Said then Tilly, er sensations and arousal becoming again her primary reason for living of life.

Ken squirmed to gain his freedom, he saw not his wife nor the animal woman seated over his groin, but a bestial woman wanting only what her sensual body could gain through her lusty desires.

Twisting and turning while Tilly sought only to take visual note of her sensual and lust loving animal like body, Ken jerked free his shaft from out of her tight gripping vagina.

A scramble of arms reaching and pulling at the bed sheets, as legs, though snuggled tightly together by how Tilly say on Ken, he managed to work his body free and rolling off the bed, jumped to stand on his feet.

Standing away fro she who was his wife, Ken saw then some erotic female, a blending of goat animal and his wife, although slender and amusingly a shapely creature. The form of Tilly being goatish and so slender, her tits, nipples, giving Ken an allurement, he licked at his lips with a surge of passion in him to return to her and then suckle.

Hot yet and sweaty, Ken took a step toward returning to the sexual grasp of Tilly, but with the movement he felt his maleness sway.

The true sensation of his swaying erection brought Ken to look down and see what became of his masculine tool.

Marla and her juiced cakes made for sensual doom to anyone who ate them. Her baking skills and the knowledge held inside the Circean ledgers, knew well how to change a person, be they male of female. Circe did her worst and best for many a man coming to her island in the Mediterranean Sea; but coming with some men, were women, they liking their men to remain human. Those who would nary bend to the willful ways of Circe, found their bodies would change, being then to what Circe would have some need.

Some woman went into serving Circe as Satyr like creatures to help men take and drink of some potion, they then became as animals for the head Mistress.

Other women, forceful in their own rights, sought to free their men or mates from the bestial doom, and fought foolishly with Circe, they becoming by her powers as nanny goats, ewes, or of the need be there, as a cow to give milk for the preparing of dishes that when served, and licked clean, the men, Circe would drive them to the sty and await the day they went to slaughter.

Sensual doom is what Marla had in mind for Ken, but Tilly ate the cakes and she beget the path to cause change to he whom was a husband and lover. As Ken eyed downward, what he saw protruding out a furry sheath attached to his lower abdomen, stuck out a stiff erection of a male shaft like found on a big buck of a male goat.

Horrified at what he saw as his, it nestled from a furry sheath, and sticking up, it came within then an inch from his unshaven chin. All hot, bright pink, the circumcision done to it by the family doctor was gone, made bestial of its contours. Stout at the base where it protruded out the shaggy sheath, the maleness narrowed some, coming to a crimped pointed end; all extremely sensual to any touching, the placing of a hand around the thing made it spit out a stream of juice.

"Golly Tilly, look what is happening to me!" Ken said, bemoaning his seeing how he had changed, and as much aroused by what he felt.

An ethical man, Ken worked at his manner of employment in a diligent way, his wild night and sensual enhancement suddenly brought him to think, remembering about how Elaine inquired about those old big books he found hidden in the apartment. Although he like his wife felt a growing need for continued sexual frolicking, the big books he found were still in his service van, it locked, and the books covered with some tarps.

Ken tried several times to get up and leave Tilly, but the two of them felt insistently drawn, one to the other. Tilly felt an urge to taint all men in general, as by letting a man come and pleasure her, his own body would feel defaming, changing as was Ken, soon surpassing his wife, he would become as a big buck goat like what the Sister’s planned.

If a reprieve from his continued sexual aggravations were possible, he knew those big books would offer a means for him to cease what began to feel as if a curse and not a blessed delight.

Tilly cared not for a reprieve from her heightened sensual new self; she had accepted it, feeling gratitude toward whoever made it happen. Ken voiced his thoughts as they made their passions surge to life, he wanting to stop for a time and collect his thoughts; but Tilly had her ways of moving, bringing Ken to a fuller erection and exciting the moment, keeping him from his wish to stop what she found so delightful.

Passion between the two lovers, Ken was the first to take note that his passionate lover seemed to cease her changing, she remaining still quite a woman, and having the increased sensualness, more than enough to taunt Ken to stay and forget of anything he would want. It was as he had taken a truly male animal position and lay hunched up to her rear and over her back as he was thrusting; Ken noted his arms and hands had continued to change, being as forelegs and cloven hooves as of a goat.

Seeing how he had lost something critical to his being human, Ken turned to look over his shaggy fur covered shoulder to take a look, finding he had a tail wiggling while he was busy rutting up in Tilly.

Essentially, as from where Ken stood and how he needed to stand while humping, he saw his humanity had waned away, and he changing, had changed to nearly a complete animal form. Nervous anxiety began to force Ken the realization of his degrading, as was, he could not work as a man in his endeavor. Cloven hooves do not allow for holding a dust mop, or rags used for the cleaning of windows. He looked back and down to see his legs having changed, accommodating to whatever curse, spell, or poison “The Sisters” had somehow administered to Tilly and him.

Tilly felt Ken slowing his assertions of terse thrusting, he would otherwise become as enthused similar to that what a male goat would when mating. She knew how to give her vaginal canal a twist, this jerking at Ken and returning his thoughts to her as his efforts to the task of mating lust loving wife.

Time was an enemy to Ken as much too was Tilly, she lived in a sensual rapture, it devised by the Sisters. Her general lack of any ability to control her own passions, became as insatiable lust when delighted by her accosting, ever changing husband. Ken too felt it, the change inching its way, a consuming of his humanity. How soon, but sooner rather than later the changes would take him beyond a point where he would wish or want to return to be human. Passions and lust being unforgiving would make of him to preferring the embodiment of being as is a goat. The Sisters were never without some sense of diverse mercy, all thought they would take from their victims the humanity and form, they would grant an enhancement to the male organs, giving as forcing the new animal to relish in his want to act more like would an animal.

The thought of what this meant for his future, he pondered at it, wondering more as of for how long he could hold that thought, as if her were to become totally ignorant caused Ken to shiver. He did so enjoy Tilly more by his being partially like a male goat, the idea of his complete transformation into a male goat lacked greatly in its appeal to his plans and the possible delight Tilly and he would gain and know.

Morning came again as it had so many times after they had a wild romp. As the two of them sought to assert each their own doom, doing for their mate what would bring about a terrible realization, the phone in the hallway began to ring its alarm of an incoming call.

At the thirty eighth ringing of the phone, Tilly feeling annoyed by it, got up off her soiled bed, and staggering as she tried walking on changed goatish hind like legs, she barely able to stand uprightly, she went to answer the phone.

Weary from his continued call to rut by his betrothed female, she of his kind, Ken flopped prostrate across the bed, his chin and goat beard coming to lie in a half crusted drying pool of ejaculated semen.

“Yes, hello, we are busy here and wish not to be disturbed!” Tilly said, abruptly to the caller. She held in her furry hand the phone receiver having plucked it from off its cradle, she speaking at it, wanted not to feel the ear piece reminding her of how furry was her goatish ear.

“Hello, my name is Elaine, I am a sister to my sisters here, we live were your husband worked yesterday, we, I wish to ask him about some big books he likely found and took home.” Elaine saying, she could tell from how Tilly answered the phone that her poisoned cakes had affected more than just Ken.

“Huh, husband, I have no husband, he was, but it is for today what will grant me some sexual satisfaction, and when he becomes wholly a goat, I shall kick his woolly ass out the back door. So leave me to do my thrills and take care of your own affairs, he are busy here!” Tilly remarking, she slamming the phone back to its cradle, and with a sigh, she marched back into the bedroom, seeing a tuckered out big male goat lying there on her bed. Ken in a lack-lazy disconcert of wishing he were again human, his tongue busy licking up some of his crusting semen, gazed up at his lack-love lover, she who with his own masculine animal manners had done his part it dooming them both to soon be each as a goat..

“Damn it, you became now a goat, and you being an animal, I want something more like a man to bring me love, passion, and the feelings I have as my desire!” Tilly said, she angered at seeing what was her husband having completed his changing; he had then as much the body of a male goat, as she thought he would of his mind.

Ignoring the still growing and maturing male goat as he lay weary and half asleep on the bed; Tilly went into the bathroom to take a hot shower and blow dry her furry body.

Ignored and allowed to lie on the soiled bed, he, Ken knowing what had happened to his body, he weary, felt the need to eat something and regain his energetic self. Slowly he struggled to get up, standing then on all fours, he peered over the side of what was his or their bed, the leap off it to the floor seemed filled with peril.

Fear mixed with want, but the hunger drive won out, and with a surge of strength from strong hind legs, Ken leaped off what was his bed, whamming to the parquet wood floor, slipping then on hard cloven hooves, he scrambled along out of the bedroom, delighted when he stood soundly on the hallway carpet. Walking at first, the sensation of his nimble legs and agile self had him doing short leaps and bounds, as he made his way to the kitchen.

The kitchen, a place when being human that held not a twit of apprehension for reaching, grabbing, and getting something to eat, but standing then as a goat, Ken saw the kitchen as something a bit too problematic.

The house plants kept near the windows by his wife Tilly became a quick answer to the wants of a hungry goat. They neither lasted too long, nor were they enough to fill his stomach to feeling full. Marauding wildly, Ken felt his aching hunger more and wanted too to gain his freedom from the confines of this then large and forbidding building.

Hunger became a maddening thing and to the wits of a goat, paper served well as something to eat. Magazines from the reading rack setting by the couch in the living room began to disappear. Munching, the paper seemed as much like plant fiber, as it tasted somewhat like the plants Ken ate first. He was busy eating when out front of the house a yellow cab drove into the drive way, it stopping as three women climbed out, one paying the driver and giving him some of her own homemade cupcakes to enjoy.

Knocking knuckles at the front door failed to bother Ken from his want for foraging on the newsprint.

Tilly, she out of the shower, blow drying her furry body with a hand held hair dryer, taunting her own sensuality, holding the thing low and letting the warm wind blow her into a euphoric quandary seeking the stirring feeling of a male asserted deeply inside her body. She heard the knocking at the front door, and yelled to her husband, "Get off your lazy ass and answer the front door!"

Ken was becoming anything but an Ass, he by his foraging was becoming a sleek muscular form of a very enhanced male goat. He failed to care about the knocking, wanting only to fill his empty belly, did munch away.

Elaine in her most interesting talent took out a small pocket knife and with a few twists, popped open the lock keeping out the sisters from seeing what their handy-work had done to a loving couple. The opening of the front door let in fresh outside air, alerting the nose of a goat to a way for him to gain his freedom. Turning, Ken dashed toward where he smelled the rush of fresh air, he slamming into Elaine, as she knew just who this goat might really be!

"Let him pass, he is in need of free spaces and wants to graze his humanity away!" Elaine said to her surprised two sisters, the three of them walked inside as Ken ran outside and stopped, stunned by all that outside the confines of his house were green and eatable.

Tilly and the Sisters met and talked, they of the same gender felt differently about men, or the male species. As the Sisters saw men bettered by becoming as well endowed male animals, it was Tilly who told them of her changing desires, wanting of a male, and having the passion to feel them in and rutting her wildly.

Out in the wide world, Ken had noted a smell, in similar to his nightly lover, but sweeter to his goat-herding nose. He headed in that direction, finding a small farm situation, a woman that kept goats for giving of milk, she had a use for a sound big buck to help keep the milk flowing. Ken entered the fenced pen, he taking immediately to the want of him and need for he doing what seemed then as something so natural.

Ken, when having finished his delight of making a doe goat happier, he would give a stretching to his body, ceasing only if he should happen to hear the click of a camera, as she who owned he the new goat, knew his value, even if he could not read how she had advertised him as available for being the best at show, “A Herd Sire.”

Meanwhile, three sisters had charged down to the street level of their apartment building, and Marla tried to rush, dropped the car keys down a storm drain. Grumbling at the mistake, it was fast thinking Elaine, she who waved at a yellow cab, it stopped to take on three riders.