Returning Friends

Vaulthurst
Series 2012

Taking a walk inside the newest shopping Mall, I happened to see a store selling not renting of costumes and tattoos. The idea of what they sold there intrigued me, and I walked in through the front door, as seeing a sales clerk there I said, "Good morning, a new store!"

"Welcome, yes this is my new store and first store," said the man there.

I began to look the place over. Never had I let anyone tattoo me but as it seemed the rage now, and maybe it was the right time? The side room with costumes smelled of animal hides and a sour scent what urge me to walk and look elsewhere about the store.

"Lots of animal pictures, you specialize in animal tattoos," I asked.

"Oh sure, a lot of real men think they are more a man with the picture of a bull, goat, or lion drawn on a chest, an arm, of even their butt," explained the man.

I smiled while continued to look at the hundreds of painted schemes he had available.

As I browsed, the man walked into the back room, leaving me alone to wander the store, as I was thinking about which one of these pictures brought a memory of better times.

"Holy molly," I exclaiming said.

The man heard me exclaim, he poked his head out from behind the drape-covered doorway and just looked at me.

"Where did you fine this one," said I, pointing to a truly detailed picture of a small dappled gray pony head.

"Oh that, that was Mike, he was a Shetland pony my Uncle owned in Michigan. I would go there and visit then and him, when quite young, often stayed there during the summer months riding, and enjoying the ponies," explained the sales clerk as he walked closer to where I stood.

"John Henry Barkley," I said, remembering then a name and a youth I knew from many years ago.

"Yes, yes, how did you know," he asked, as he of face glowed of joy.

"Kyle Smyth, I owned the pony Fire, a roan beauty with white blaze and white fore socks. He my father arranged and had the pony boarded there for many years, I remember a brat kid coming there in the summer and of riding Fire. I think my pony enjoyed you very, very much," I said as to explain.

"I remember you; yes I do,” said John as we got more comfortable and talked.

"Mike, a large Shetland stallion owned by your uncle, what he used as a stud for his mares, that is him in the picture, correct,” I asked?

"Yes, he was a fun fellow, a favorite of mine to ride, so spirited, he never seemed to mind his lost…" replied John.

As I returned to my browsing the wears there for sale, I mentioning said, "Nice store you should do well, a good location, and might I say some very nice art work too!"

"Hey, I got something you might well be interested of seeing," said John as he turned and walked to a rack of his fine artistry.

A moment later and he walked into the showroom where he said, "Taa…da, and behold, here is your Fire." There stood John as in his hands was a perfect picture of my American Shetland pony stallion, I named as Fire.

"Fire, wow you really own a flair with recreating animals, he looks so real, you captivated his form and spirit into a realistic a picture, why I might expect to hear him snort and whinny," I said, being quite pleased, as I took the picture into my hands to more closely admire the art work.

"Damn," I muttered.

"Something wrong,” John asked, “Did I make a mistake," he whined as his joyful expression changed quickly to one of anguish.

I smiled at him, "No nothing is wrong except now I cannot make up my mind. I like Mike and I liked and loved Fire, which one would look best on my chest," I asked with a note of wonderment.

"Fire, after all he was yours and now the two of you can be friends again," announced John. His smile, we were of agreement, and my Pony Fire was to be my trademark. As my pony was that fond creature of my remembered younger days, so wild and tame loveable he stirred my blood. Now it seemed as if to honor that wonderful time of youth and companionship, I would have his likeness injected upon my chest.

In a rush, I stripping off my shirt I prepared myself with a deeply inhaled breath, thinking of Fire being with me as a reminder of a personal delight. I was nervous while trying to act calm, lying down then on the couch to await John to begin his artistry.

He also readied himself as then rolling to the side of that couch a tray filled with equipment of his trade.

"First I must shave your chest, alright," asked John as he sat for a moment seemingly lost in thought, a strange expression on his face.

A spray can of some oily liquid served as the beginning. I watched him work with graceful hand strokes as he shaved my chest using a straight razor.

A hot towel to moisturize and clean away the remaining oil from on my chest, as then John unfolded a black silk cloth and placed it on my damp chest. He eyed the cloth as it set and snuggled down to my skin, waiting as he took a deep breath before he began to work.

The silk cloth became as stuck to my chest and John so carefully removed it, beginning at a corner and inching it from off my skin. He then began to use his electric needle, as it hummed and buzzed, he drew the first outline of what would appear. I watched him work, looking up at a ceiling mounted mirror, the artist at work, and his hand sketching a reflection of a wonder and awe-inspiring work of art.

Slowly on the ears, then crown of his head, eyes, and building those sound cheekbones of Fire, his image took shape.

Not a word or even a song did John make as he was as intent upon his creation of this art. He would stop and adjust his needle, or get up and stepping back eyed my chest as if a canvas.

A good three hours later, and John sat up straight, he smiled at me and pronounced the work was complete.

I slowly got up as if the wrinkles in my chest would damage his piece of wondrous art. Once standing and in front of a full-length mirror, it reflected the most real picture of my favorite pet, Fire!

"John you are a master of the art, its so real one might think he was there and could move or snort," I exclaimed in wild delight.

"You like it Kyle, then I want you to know something about what I added. The black silk held more of the essence that was pony Fire. A gift to a friend, no charge toady, as you will enjoy being with Fire, together again, but with something more, a mutuality for the love of living what he had and could do for what he took pleasure," said John, he saying it with an artistic-mystic manner as might a true artist.

"No this is for me only to see and remember, I am widowed now and living alone," I told John, as he smiled, and said, “With Fire there, I doubt you will feel lonely! I am sure you shall enjoy your renewed relationship with pony Fire, he is more than just art, he is a permanently addition to your body.

"What?" I asked.

"You will see," John reply.

"No I will see what, tell me is there a problem?" I asked then being worried and showing this in my quivering voice.

"You now have something special, as from the tattoo of Fire is more than a reminder of that once deep dark passion you had for that pony!" John said, as if he wished to act as taunting me.

I was suddenly worried about what I asked as had done was more a foolish admiration for this artistic friend, of him I had not seen for many years.

"Tonight, when you get home, I would suggest you sit for a while outside and take advantage of the clear sky. As the moon rises early in its first quarter phase, the cool of the evening will arouse a truer remembrance of Fire. It is then I know you will find memories and fond joyous thoughts come alive once again. The tattoo is more real than you can yet imagine," John told me.

I pulled on my shirt without saying a word. The wonderment he had instilled right then was enough to make me wish I had never stepped through that door. I placed what I thought was the stated price for the service, that of two hundred dollars. However, John brushed it aside as he just smiling said, “This is what friends do for friends! No charge Kyle, it is a gift from the management, I know you shall come to enjoy!"

I picked up my money as scurried off to my car and the drive homeward.

My day in the sun and fun was for me right then ruined. I had, or owned again something of a wondrous reminder from younger days and happy carefree times. As much those memories were all great, I had serious concerns of what I just allowed done to my body?”

Just when I had arrived home, as walked in through the garage to the kitchen doorway, my phone began to ringing. The caller was my father, he wanting to know if I would come for a cookout that night. I agreed without thinking much of what John suggested I go home and do, he with words as if a warning. I hurried about collecting some things to take along, tossing them into the rear seat of my car and drove back to the roads.

Our family lake front cottage built and owned by my grandfather before it went to my dad to own and use. It was a stately old English Tudor style house set back from the lake beachfront. To walk inside was like stepping back into time to a richer age. Dad and Mom both now in their late eighties were still healthy and spry enough to get around even by car. As I got out my car, the smell of his charcoal cooker warming up filled the air. We all greeted each other warmly as Dad slipped me a can of beer and the two of us plopped down into some Adirondack styled chairs.

The dinner was great, and the company friendly, my chest held a secret and so went the early evening, until from out the far surface of the lake appeared a bright slit of Moon.

Even as we talked and laughed together there was a strange feeling welling up in my chest.

Soon it was almost an agonizing sensation, as if my temperament changed and Mom noted it, she wondering if I had some indigestion problem. At first, I said no, but as the feelings seemed to make me feel more uncomfortable, to where I began to feel rather horny, I decided to return home.

Excusing myself and with two parents showing their concern on each face, I got up and walked to my car, plopping into the drivers seat for the hour-long drive to home.

Not ten minutes down the road and my heart was beating as if I had just run a mile. I was sweating and felt very itchy. The clear night sky and that quarter moon gave an eerie white glow to everything aside the road.

My breathing got heavier, not rapid but just deep drafts of breath. I was coming up to the Mason Apple Orchard when it hit full force. Why, but I jerked hard the steering wheel, turning it a hard right, sending my car to sail off the road and into a lucky spot of just open grasses.

I flicked the door latch to open and just rolled out into the grassy field. My head ached, shoulders felt like a mountain stood forced down upon them. Fingers and toes felt numb, as I took note to seeing my chest, it looked as if getting larger.

It had to be the tattoo, but how, I wondered until my shirt buttons started to pop off one by one.

An ogled look down to my chest proved I had a real stiff neck. Almost able to see the face of Fire but it seemed to be fading away, obliterated by a new covering of reddish roan chest hairs.

I had not ever had such a feeling of physical distress made worse by the realization of those fast growing chest hairs!

Suddenly my pants felt tight around the waist and with dull feeling almost numb fingers, I fumbled the belt and snap loose.

A jab of harsh pain hit my backbone and flipped me onto my back. One spasm of pain ran down the spine from my skull to the butt. I moaned, and then screamed for help. As I rolled over to give a hopeful look around, I saw not a sole anywhere nearby to hear my groaning. I was sure I was dying, or had some horrible reaction from my tattoo.

It hurt so damn bad my butt was jerking, it made me almost laugh, reminded of watching when pony Fire stood humping some mare. Then it all slackened as slowed, like a wave upon the beach it just seeped away to leave me lying there peering up at the Moon with one eye.

My breathing calmed as heart raced onward. The dull feelings in hands and feet continued to feel stranger, as neither would move according to my desired thoughts.

At rest as calm, I felt a strangely deep satisfaction over being alive, as it crept over me and I lay there finally without any pains. I must have lain there quite some time feeling the delight in being pain free and not wishing to move less it all began again.

"I must get up, I must try to stand up," was my urge, my thought.

Rolling my body as if to sit up on one side, I pushed myself up with arms as legs strained to find an easy way to get us up.

"Yes, I am up and no more pain," I tried to say. I did try to speak but what issued forth from my lips was the shrill sound of the remembered voice belonging to my pony Fire.

Reminded of what John said, of pony Fire and me becoming more than just a memory of what was, I felt rejuvenated but not myself.

A deep breath and then like I was clearing my mind by clearing my nose a snort of true equine sound rattled out my nostrils. The sensation and the sound tended to scare me, and I stood very still. The wanton call to explore what happened, as I stood there in the orchard, I tried to step-stride forward, walking back to where I left my car.

My thoughts were foggy! I thought that was from the battle of pain I had felt. As I stood near to the car, I breathed in and out. The breeze though light was at my face with a scent in the air, the smell bade me raise my head as nose to sniff at the night air, my mind said there were horses nearby!

A look back toward the road, I remembered seeing the sign and knew there where I had driven off the road, crashing through the fence and into the orchard belonging to a Mister Mason. The Mason family owned the orchard and well known for their rich Apple Passion applesauce. Alex Mason was a renowned local breeder of Friesian horses. It was his stables and the horses my nose smelled, a bold reminder of when last summer I went to the county fair, saw Alex showing his team of black horses.

I thought more then of seeing the horses than getting into my car and try to drive back up onto the roadway. As I walked in the direction of the equine scent, the breeze stiffened and so then did a part on me, as I found myself prancing, feeling horny, and noted then my swaying massive erection.

A realization as to my nakedness left me with a goose-pimpled skin. As aroused sexually, I walked with a jostled stride, noted I stood tall, and had four legs not just two. Mesmerized, I stopped at the pasture gate looking from there to the corral, as my erection became extreme and rock hard. I stood there and closed my eyes to try enjoying the feelings, knowing that it and I were wrong, as a lusty passion flowed through my being.

Part of me knew I was acting and walking, as would an animal, but something in me told me to ignore the logic, keeping my mind focused only on the scented breeze.

A snuffled snorting sound, my eyes widened and I turned toward what made my heart skipped a beat. There, off in the dark shadowed far end of the corral was what all my senses told me to be a mare, she frightened and in her time of estrus.

Her scent drove me to acting wild and carefree, as prancing in a wide circle; I ran, dashed toward the pasture fence and leaped it with remarkable ease. I landed harshly on all fours, giving it a moment of thought before my ragging erection told me what I had to do next.

Ablaze with wild desire, I had to do what my all of self said was my born duty. When with a screamed whinny alert my every brain cell of what became reality, that part of me what became as the living essence of my stallion pony named Fire, took the human for a ride into the realm of equine reproduction.

Foremost was the time then for a quick courtship as equine rituals surfaced in my mind! The thought of having sex with an animal as something immoral an act, vanished and I was then more than physically as somebody else and certainly not myself.

Beckoned to go along and learn, Fire did for me a pranced dance, we with tail held high, showed our spirited self off for a lover. Snorting and tossing our head about, she as did we snuffle and whinny. She seemed willing, acting then with a desire to relieve her aches and passions, she advanced to the center of the corral.

We pranced up a storm of dust, as she turned her glorious rump in our direction, tail held high and to the side, her vulva black winking, showing an essence of pink what with her scent did the last to drive a pony wild.

Suddenly we stopped, stood and did stare, our breathing was now rapid and heart beat into a fast mode rhythm of pure desire. Her wondrous dark slit she made to wink at us, it was as if for the moment she and we cherished the moment as if something equine and scared.

With a screamed a loud whinny we dashing beeline toward her invitation. A screeching halt coming to her behind we reared high and with the stance, our erect cock became positively aimed. Yet Fire was in control and as the tip to the cock graced a slight tough to her vulva, we dropped to stand again on all fours. She was ready as was I, but Fire leaned forward with the tongue we reached forth, giving a broad slurped lick to the weeping vulva. This bold as tasty act a final check of a stallion to assure his intellect that the mare was willing.

Our upper lip curled into a knot as nostrils flared and erection turned to concrete.

Breathing became rapid, our heart pumping like mad, reminders of what is moral for a human was in direct contradiction to the thoughts of pony Fire, as he thought of instinctive wanting. Our nostrils screamed from what Fire knew best as a delightful smell. The nose tingled as did our tongue and taste buds had their input too, adding into our shared conscious mind the idea of wild passion, Fire wanted her and I wanted what my friend longed to show me what delights a stallion.

In a quick second, we stood reared up, our mutually felt extra-long pony cock strained rigidly as it was ready to make the plunge. Gulping of deep breaths accentuated with urging snorts adds to the sense of anxiety and sexual frenzy.

Stepping toward her, we see her lowering her head to the ground, tail held high and to one side, she was willing, welcoming, and ready.

As with the touch of our thighs to her firm hindquarters, she shivered with expectation of what was to come. A half step forward had our shaft sensing the warmth of her sexual heat, the feeling made me as wild with want of mating as was Fire dealing with his equine instinct to procreate.

In that, one long moment of my night when merged into being an equine, sexual heat filled me with passion, lost was all of any rational thought in my mind. As the flared tip of our shared pony, the stallion shaft parted those moist and hot lips of equine sex, there was a memory of my wife, of our love, a learned attitude and the knowledge of what I was about to partake was for me wrong.

My wished want to stop and have a moment to think about what we or I was about to jointly do and the mare whinnied, making me forget my morality and join Fire in a fun time of fornication.

The mare and her cried call to hurry as to continue was enough to erase any thinking any moral thoughts. Down and in went that long shaft following the channeled hot tunnel. She used her vaginal walls to grip our maleness, adding to the sensation, increasing the thrill and sensuality. When in and held by our loving mare in her vaginal death-grip, Fire began to move our pelvis, he working the cock as if a locomotive piston. Up and down, in as almost to coming out, we worked and enjoyed the thrusting of our smooth shaft passing through her ribbed muscular vagina.

With equine heart and my human mentality strained nearer to bursting from feelings, Fire and his onetime master stood enjoying something together.

To me the human my sense of lust was as likened to nothing I had experienced before when mating with my wife. This was the ultimate sense of passion, unlike my wildest imagined wet erotic fantasy, equine mating was more brutal. As the massive organ Fire pressing deep its twenty-three inches of male animal lust into her massive body, our hairy belly rubbed over her hairy rump.

Our tail swished with each new sensation of wild delights, as she rocked back, moving as we moved, adding to the feel, the sounds, our thrill.

As we mated her, she swished her tail across the cock, her coarse haired tail making our shaft quiver at the sensual feeling, arousing Fire as it drove me to wish Fire and I might remain forever as one in body for life eternal.

I never felt the semen leave the groin or burst along the shaft as it spewed a torrent inside the mare. I knew somehow that we had shot our load! As the passion seemed quelled, the rigid cock softened, grew limp and Fire feeling it, he/we stepped back, dragging the limp length from out of her as mare and stallion parted, walking away their passions gone.

Fire remembered of times past when he while I stood and watched, was somewhat jealous of my stallion, he would stay humped over and sunk deep, taking some wonderful few moments to relish his encounter.

Part of me begged Fire we should stay there and feel, as thrill our lust for more. Another instinctive inking traced through both our mentalities, that of vulnerable to attack we were standing there humped over as in, enjoying being thrilled to death.

The mare whinnied, her head turning to face us, plodded close and dropping her head, she began to pay homage, by licking clean our flaccidly soft if still long hung cock.
Her very touching soon had me urging we gain another erection, letting go my moral thinking for willingness then of living my life as did Fire, wishing for more, many more mares and that wild sensation a stallion knows as his pride!

We remained together Fire and I in his form, being as one pony stallion at stud. One wonderful night moved on to the enjoyment of the daytime, and discovery of a rouge stallion having bred a prized Frisian mare.

The sounds of birds announced the rising of each red new morning. We stood there grazing as I learned the feel for a mouth filled with the green grass pasture. We whinnied softly, as if to beckon another or to return to grazing in harmony with the herd.

As the time of season and passing of mare estrus faded, the fall season red rays of the sun touched our hairy hide, it was then I felt a draining of my massive equine strength. Indeed, we were becoming smaller, until one chilly morning, I awoke being me. I or me with the chest tattoo of my pet pony Fire forever printed and there when the season seemed so righteous.

There I stood naked, the light of day alerting me of something odd which had occurred.

Quickly I searched the open pasture for my clothing finding my pants and shoes but a badly ripped shirt.

A jump over the pasture fence had my lover standing there begging me to return. Looking around my wallet lay by the car, its keys still in the ignition. A deep breath, a sigh, and I got into my car, surprised too, the engine started, as I put it in gear and slowly drove it back to and up onto the road, for that long remembered drive home.

My thoughts returned to thinking of home, of my duties to work, parents, country and devotion to a triune God.

My walking into the house, unlocked the kitchen entrance door, I had to wipe away some spider webs before walking inside my small house. It all seemed as if a dreamed adventure until I stood before the bathroom toilet and feeling the need to decrease the volume in my bladder. I unzipped my soiled trousers, fingered in to tug out my penis. What I touched sent a shiver up my spine, the skin felt as if weathered, thicker, and more there, but not something born to a human.

“No…, oh no, no way,” I muttering said as I unsnapped the top of my pants and digging in my thumbs under the waistband I slipped down the trousers to see what I had grown to love, as much as I had the pony mares.

Retained from my experience, my adventure, there in my human groin set the sheath and testicles of what Fire had, and of what he and I mutually felt as enjoyed. A moment of fingering and the sheath moved, what it held inside was on the rise, moving, inflating, and pressing outward. I continued to pet as urge in me a sense of lusty desire, watching as the pony cock of Fire grew long, unraveled, stiffened.

A moment more and my bladder sent a boiling flood down the lovely length of my changed penis. I stood there thanking higher powers for what I knew then was a real adventure. The smell was much the same, as up to that point when I fell asleep and changed back to being the realer me, we had grazed peaceably for hours.

Oddly, I stood and took deep inhaled breaths having come to like the scent of my urine, a mark to a pony of its home, stall, where we would sleep at night and wake to a new day.

I sighed and then thought to undress and enjoy a hot shower bath. When I stood there naked and before the bathroom mirror the essentials of my adventure stood boldly as part of my reflection. I was a Caucasian by birth, but from my adventure, much of me had changed, as ninety percent of what was, I was not of the same-pinked skin color. As from my shoulders and down to a single thick toe on each foot, my skin was the same blackish slate gray color sprinkled with patches of red roan pony fur.

Seeing was to believe and discard any idea of what happened as being a dream. The more I looked and gawked at the reflection the more aroused became my pony cock to its more rigid state. A man in his middle age years stood there and with my hands, I began to stroke the smooth aroused length of what was mine. The more enthralled I began feeling the more too the reddish fur began emerging, as by the time I masturbated to climax, the red fur covered me from shoulders down the length of my arms, torso, pelvic region, and legs.

The surge of sheer volume exploding out the end hole of my pony cock blasted the bathroom mirror with a splattering coat of sticky scented equine like semen. I closed my eyes and stood there with a heart pounding, my mind elated with relishing the wealth of my sensations.

Just then, I heard a voice, my eyes opened and I turned to face the bathroom doorway, but saw not a sole as there. I sighed and tried to relax while enthused with feeling of my furry arms, my belly, my hefty pony testicles and the stoutly still erection what made me change, to revert partially to looking like a red-roan pony.

“My Master, it is I, your pony you named as Fire what speaks to you from inside our body. We remain as one together, easily changed, able by sensuality or desire to become again our wonderful pony form of self again and again. I am on your chest, as you where within my mind, we shared many fun conquests of mares, as we shall again during the years ahead. You need to bathe and relax, as further stimulation will revert what is human to being of pony our form.

Let us relax, as I shall sleep or when we are awake I shall passively watch and learn what it is like being as of people.” Fire, he said it, he with my own voice controlled by him expressed his thoughts, our mutual adventure he had gained understanding from my learned knowledge, as truly our adventure was just beginning.