Becoming a Stallion
Brooke always loved horses but when she starts transformation from woman to non-anthro stallion in the middle of her office, her life is forever changed!
WARNING
WARNING
WARNING
This story contains dubcon/non-con in surprise, public transformation. Messy defecation and urine are also included in this story.
WARNING
WARNING
WARNING
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*Becoming a Stallion *
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by anonymous
_ _
_ _
Brooke sighed, leaning over her desk, tucked away in her little office cubicle. Her blonde hair swept over the desk, though it was much brighter than the office around her, as if she was one of the few shiny spots in the dreariness of the office. Even being trapped in the office itself was difficult for her, always feeling like the walls were closing in on her. At the weekends, she spent a lot of time hiking and staying outside, just to get sunshine on her skin again.
At least they had a casual dress code there, so she could wear one of her favourite shirts: pink with the image of a horse on it, a bright bay with a black mane and tail. She'd have loved to have a horse like that, though her salary didn't pay anywhere near enough for her to have the money to look after a horse of her own.
“Ugh…" She groaned lightly, glancing at the clock, muttering under her breath so no one would hear her. “I wish the day would just end already."
It wasn't the most entertaining job in the slightest, though it paid the bills, even if not as much as she wanted it to. She swung back and forth in her chair, already bored out of her mind, one of her coworkers chewing and snapping gum in the cubicle beside her.
For heaven's sake, Karen, Brooke thought. Why can't you chew gum on your own time? It's so noisy…
_ _
The snap jolted her every time, though Brooke did her best to ignore it. Instead, her eyes slid to the pile of paperwork beside her, everything she had to file for the team lead. None of it looked appealing at all to her, simply mind-numbing work that someone had to do.
She blinked away the fragile moisture in her eyes, though she wouldn't have admitted to the tears in the office, not even as they clung delicately, however briefly, to her eyelashes. Taking a shuddering breath, which spoke to the emotion in her chest, she inspected her red painted nails, as if there was something particularly interesting about them all of a sudden.
“I wish I could just escape this, all of this," she whispered, though not loudly enough, or so Brooke thought, for any of her coworkers in the dreary, grey office to hear. “This mundane life… None of this should ever have been for me."
Little did Brooke know there was a fairy passing by, her glittering, silver wings cloaked with magic, so she appeared as nothing more than a common bird, a pigeon, when passing the office windows. She paused, however, a giggle rising to her lips, a long, flowing dress reaching down to her bare toes.
Why should she not, after all, grant the human's wish? She'd grown bored of merely flitting and living amongst the humans, after all, and a little interest in the day could not be a bad thing!
“As you wish… Za-zing!"
The fairy bounced in the air, a grin on her bright, round face, as she sent a jolt of magic through the window, into the human in the middle of the office. Before her eyes, Brooke started, sitting upright and flinching as if she had physically been struck by something, or perhaps bitten by a bug.
“Ugh," Brooke grunted, twisting in her seat, the chair squeaking. “What was that?"
“Everything okay, Brooke?" Her coworker, Sam, said, popping his head over the dividing wall. “You're always squawking over there! Lady troubles?"
He grinned widely, sickeningly so, and she shook her head, muttering and turning her face from him. Why did he always have to be like that, like he had a part to play and an opinion about things that he really shouldn't have been thinking about at all? She muttered something and waved him off, though he was thankfully easy to get rid of, as long as he felt like he'd said his piece.
It was when he still had something to say that Sam was a pain in the ass.
She shifted her weight, feeling a little out of sorts. Yet Brooke couldn't quite work out what was different as her stomach grumbled and she thought longingly of fresh, green meadows of grass, perhaps before a forest, where she could sit and eat a nice picnic. It was such a simple pleasure, the feel of the grass poking lightly between her fingers, teeth biting into a juicy, red apple, that she sank into the memory as if it was her reality, right then and there.
Her backside plumped out a little, though she didn't notice, a little more fat easing into her back end, as if she was gaining weight on the spot. Her jeans pulled a little tighter around her, digging into the crack of her ass, but Brooke was too busy on the computer.
Clicking off from the spreadsheet she was working on, she moved to her web browser, searching up images. Horses, of course, but that wasn't all that unusual for her, fingers dancing and tapping across the keyboard as if they had a mind of their own.
She didn't notice the fairy watching her through the window, humming lightly to herself as her skin darkened a touch, the hair on her bare arms slowly thickening up a little, turning a shade darker, almost brown. It would have been hard to notice unless she was staring directly at her arms, though Brooke was too caught up in her image search to do more than rub her arms. The itching was passing, after all.
“Hm…"
She hummed lightly under her breath, searching images that she never had before – pictures of equine genitalia. Just stallions, though there was on reason in her head for why, merely moving from picture to picture, some drawn and others real life photographs, perhaps from breeding facilities.
Mmmm… Wouldn't that be nice? Brooke thought, though she wasn't sure what even she was referring to, her mind loose and wandering. Nice, big cocks… And heavy horse balls.
_ _
She took a breath, her throat tighter than before, though her neck elongated faintly, her spine crinkling and popping as new vertebrae were added. A horse, after all, was much longer and larger than a mere human woman, and her body ticked along, following the magic of the fairy. It was not as if Brooke ever would have had any choice in the matter, however, not as the changes sank into her. Even the cellular makeup of her body shifted, feet going numb as she shoved her heavy toes a little more into the front of her black boots.
But none of that would ever be something for Brooke to worry about, not then and not even, not as she flicked through photo after photo, stuck on a site that she could not recall the name of.
A pair of heavy, grey balls, which seemed to swing lightly back and forth even in the static image.
A mottled pink and grey length of horse cock, the grey speckles highlighting the wrinkles in the skin behind the medial ring.
Another photo that shoved off just how soft and plump the stallion's sheath looked, pulling back around the base of his dick.
And one more too, just for good measure, of a stallion's cock hard and ready, the head at the point of flaring, as if he was just about to orgasm.
She lingered over that one for longer than she should have, taking in every little detail on his cock. The moment was hers, after all, and the hands on the analogue clock no longer meant anything to her: better to follow the path of the sun and the moon, after all, to track what she was supposed to be doing to make the most out of her simple days.
The cock was long and a pure black, though the shadows cast along it seemed to give it more depth than anticipated. The sheath appeared tight around the base, wrinkled as if it was being forced back a touch more, though the medial ring was thick, clearly marking its arc around the length of horse meat.
Without thinking, her hand went between her legs, rubbing her pussy through her clothes, though it was not something she ever would have done in the office if she had been in her right mind. The horse cock just looked so delicious, so virile, like every inch radiated power, something she would very much have enjoyed having present on her body, throbbing with desire.
There was something about her feet, something weird, something heavy. She sniffed, pulling her attention briefly from the screen.
Do my feet smell?
_ _
She lifted her foot, propping her boot up on the chair, though it was not a comfortable position and Brooke suddenly didn't feel as flexible as she'd been before. Maybe she was just having a bad day, a stiff day, a day when everything didn't move quite as fluidly as before.
But the musty, earthy smell, which reminded her of a barnyard, seemed to be coming from her boots and she tried to get her foot up as close to her face as she could. Taking a big whiff, she inhaled slowly, letting the aroma waft into her nostrils and all the way down into her lungs.
“Mmmm…" She groaned faintly, a smile ghosting across her lips. “That's…actually kind of nice."
She pushed her nose into the top of her boot, beside her leg, though she would have done more, if she had had the presence of mind to do so. There was a faint smell of leather about her boots, but the musky, almost dirty reek overwhelmed that pleasantly. Wriggling her toes within her boots, she ground her heel down, trying to get the prickling sense of cramps out of her feet.
Sitting up again, she sighed, her body a little looser than before and more relaxed. Weight pooled around her belly, her breasts softening and receding into her body, though all Brooke noticed was the release of pressure from her bra around her chest. The under wire on that one usually cut into her, though it was kind of nice not to have that pressure, at least for a little while. For her body was set to change beyond her wildest dreams.
Her gut grumbled, gas bubbling and popping in her digestive tract. Blinking, she adjusted her weight in her seat and lifted a butt cheek, letting out a loud, wet fart.
“Ppppppppffffffrrrrrrrttttttt!"
Heads turned in her direction and some giggled, a guy whose name she no longer remembered making a comment.
“Better out than in, I always say! Ha-hah!"
“Oh, shut up, Mark…"
“Brooke, are you alright?"
But she wasn't thinking straight, her head turning faintly as if she was checking out the sounds around her. However, she found them not to be any threat to her and continued checking out images, another fart breaking from her, that one even louder and wetter than the first.
She grunted, her stomach suddenly feeling tight. The eyes on her made her uneasy and she tried to shift her weight and sit up a little straighter, to look normal. There were others around her and the staring, fixed gazes, how they pierced her, were not natural: they were not herd animals around her.
Predators stared.
“Unff… Uh, hey…" She said with a blink, warmth rushing through her, darkening her cheeks. “Yeah… Sorry about…that."
She wasn't all that sure what she was saying sorry for, though she shook her head lightly, somewhat coming to senses. Yet not all the way, for her transformation by no means could be reversed, not even then, not when the fairy was still bobbing around beyond the window, watching the proceedings.
Brooke looked down at her arms, turning her hands over, a flicker of unease rising in the pit of her stomach for the first time. That didn't make sense – was there something wrong with the lights in there? Something that was making her arms look darker than they had been before?
Maybe I should go to the bathroom, she thought, though she couldn't imagine how she was going to get through the office with so many people staring at her. This is all a bit weird.
_ _
Another fart ripped from her and annoying Suzy on the opposite cubicle to her gagged, ducking her head and covering her mouth.
“Oh, my god, Brooke," she moaned, sounding genuinely pained. “Uh… What did you eat? This is… Ugh!"
She made a sound of true disgust, though Brooke would have understood exactly what she was so grossed out by if she had been in her right mind. Yet animal instincts pressed through her as she reached for her jacket, wanting to cover up her arms even as her shoulders thickened and bulked out, rounding with muscle that had to find a place on her body.
Trying to stand, she shook her head slowly, her neck feeling fatter than usual. With wide eyes, she grabbed at her body, her centre of balance off as she tipped forward against the desk, not understanding in the slightest.
She had to get out, had to do something, had to hide herself away. Yet none of that was going to help her as her feet grew chunkier and heavier, her nails fusing together as her toes melded into one. Pins and needles rippled through her feet and up her ankles, though she grunted, eyes wide and glistening with moisture. That, however, was purely as she had her eyes wide open and glassy, staring, just like a prey animal that had found they were caught in a trap.
When her coworkers turned her attention from her, grumbling and muttering about turning the AC on, she hunched over the desk, her shoulders rounding a little, her back aching as her spine felt like it was pushing out against her jeans. There was something growing there, something that meant it was no longer comfortable for her to sit as she had been, her buttocks wider than ever, straining her jeans.
She should have made good her escape at that point, yet her attention wandered as she pushed her hand into her jeans and grunted faintly, her ears itching and straining as they pulled up a little higher. The shape of them changed and new muscles came into play around the base of them, twitching and pulling, the skin covering her forehead a little tighter whenever her ears lightly moved.
Blinking, she considered that, though couldn't take her hand from the computer mouse, even as her nails grew a little, showing more nail around the red, the polish seeming to recede. It didn't make sense, but Brooke simply didn't know to hide anymore, not as she shoved her fingers into her pussy, three or so, and ground lustfully on to her hand.
“Unff… Mmm…"
She moaned, quietly enough that no one heard her yet in the babble and chatter of the office, the printer whirring and grinding as it churned out someone else's paperwork. Searching up images of mare pussies, she drooled thickly, her mouth overly full of saliva as she did what she could to gulp it down, though some slicked out the corner of her lips.
“Ohhh, that feels so good…" She moaned, a little louder that time, slowly but surely losing control. “Yes… A little more… Fuck me harder, deeper…"
Imagining a cock ploughing into her, her fingers curling back up and over the strangely pulsating, swell nub of her clit, swiftly turned to something even lewder. All those cocks she'd been looking at, well… What if she had one instead? A pussy was all well and good, but a thick, throbbing length of horse cock was what it was all really about.
“Mmm… That would be hot," she breathed, though another coworker turned their head, eyes wide in shock at what was coming out of her lips. “To have it there, throbbing just like that. Maes me want to jack off so badly."
“Brooke! Think of what you're saying!"
She cast a confused look at her coworker, the pressure at the base of her spine increasing.
“What's wrong with that?" She asked, though even the question seemed strange in her own mind. “Huh… You really think that wouldn't be good? A nice, thick length of meat? I need that… I need that to really fuck a mare!"
Again, she farted, but one of her coworkers had already gone off to get HR, considering Brooke's lack of politeness far beyond their pay grade. Those that were left did their best to cover their nostrils from the ripping, damp yet reeking farts, the stink of which curled and twisted into every last corner of the office. It would even remain present in the carpet afterwards, forcing the building management to replacement it, costing the company a hefty fee.
But she didn't care about that, not even as a weightiness resided in her bowels, her body filling up with waste as food moved more quickly through her digestive tract. Yet her jeans pulled over her thighs, splitting down the sides, revealing her pink underwear to anyone that cared to see. There was more muscle too, even along with the additional fat layering her body – a much bigger body than she'd had before. It smoothed out across her chest, her pecs moving closer together as her chest took on a more equine-like shape and her neck bulking out into that smooth, equine arc of lean muscle.
That was one problem, however, that was solved by everyone turning away from her fragrant backside, even as her jeans tore and tugged up between her legs. Even then, she ground into her hand, like she was humping something for sexual pleasure, though she couldn't get her fingers as deeply into her pussy as they were before.
“Mmph… Nnggghhh… Why are these so tight?" She muttered to herself, though her voice was rougher and raspier before, as if she had partaken in a harder drink the night before. “Mmm… And why…does it feel good?"
Brooke tried to speak, but there was only so much she could do as her boots grew tighter and tighter, a dark coat of brown hair prickling to life with greater intent across her whole body. Her toes didn't wiggle as she wanted them to, her heart pounding more heavily than expected, though she didn't cling to the fear. It was more as if things were pulling into the place they should have been, everything re-settling around her, within her.
But it itched something dreadful too and she dropped a little, forgetting she had hands to scratch with. She grunted and twisted, trying to rub her shoulder against the side of the desk while still enjoying the pictures of fat, swollen mare folds, how they tugged and pulled in that lusciously delicious teardrop shape.
“Mmmmmph…"
A coworker, whose name no longer meant anything to her, picked up her head in confusion not too far away.
“Brooke? Are you okay? You…" She paused, as if striving to find the right words to say. “You just don't seem yourself today. Is everything okay?"
She broke into a gagging cough right at the end, eyes watering from the reek. Someone else muttered but Brooke was too engaged in humping her own hand as she printed off some pictures with her other hand, barely able to click on the right icons to churn off image after image from the printer. The print quality was not the nicest, but she flicked through more pictures, pausing on a photo of a mare with an almost perfectly pink, fleshy pussy, delighting in it.
Yet her clit throbbed against her hand, fatter and longer as she moaned aloud, pushing her tongue against the roof of her mouth, the cage of her teeth framing it. They grew chunkier in her mouth as she shook her head, twisting it lightly from side to side, though her teeth changing shape, becoming more molar-like and losing the canines, were not her main focus.
The mare's pussy on the screen called to her, even as a shriek rang through the office as someone found the images of mare pussy on the office printer, though she did little else than twitch her ears. It was not something that bothered her, even as a rasping, grinding chuckle rose from her chest.
“Heh-he…Heh… Need mare pussy…"
Her clit grew more and more and she dragged her hand out of her sex, fingertips fusing together with those thick, chunky nails, her polish falling off entirely in some cases, while the polish on others cracked and splintered through. Yet Brooke paid it no mind as her hands became increasingly hoof-like and her pussy sealed shut completely. She could no longer be considered human, not as her body warped and transformed, giving her, in a twisted way, exactly what she had wanted in the first place.
However, it was not anything she had to worry about, grunting and popping free the button on her jeans. Her new cock swelled out through the zipper, pushing it down even further, and she groaned long and low, eyes fixed on the screen.
“Mare…pussy…"
It was a low grumble of need and chatter rose around her, some coworkers calling out in alarm, others staggering away, striving to simply put distance between Brooke and themselves, caught in a sense of self-preservation. But her clit very obviously grew into a horse cock as her shirt pulled over her chest, rips showing through, exposing the brown coat of hair beneath her clothes. After all, Brooke would not need clothes anymore, not really.
She grumbled throatily, trying to nicker, and stood high, trying to grind her transforming cock against the screen, the head flattening, fleshy and dark-skinned. It fattened up, the skin pulling over it as the medial ring popped out, defining its shape. What had been the folds of her pussy softened and hung down, bulging into her jeans, her underwear straining and snapping around the left leg.
Brooke barely noticed, not as her clothes revealed more and more of her body – only that it wasn't really her body anymore, was it? She groaned, licking her lips, though words came with greater difficulty still as she transformed, ears twitching and pulling, finally, up into petal-like shapes.
“Mmm…" She groaned. “Need… Need. Nnnggghhh…"
Yet she could not get any more words out as she thrust and rolled her hips, knocking the screen aside and blindly trying to get her pleasure. After all, Brooke could see a mare there, right there! But she couldn't seem to get her cock into the mare's pussy, regardless of what she did! What was wrong with that? It didn't make sense to her, not at all, not as she lost the capability of human speech and her tongue thickened, fleshing out within her mouth.
Even as her tongue widened, flicking back up against her incisors, her face expanding into a muzzle, she humped. It was all Brooke could do, grinding and thrusting, as if the transforming woman had lost all sense of her mind. Her balls filled out, spilling over with cum that drooled out the tip of her cock, as if there was simply not enough room even in her swelling nuts to fit every last drop.
Her feet swelled, fat and unwieldy within her boots, yet the changes were happening with or without her consent. Brooke groaned as more of her coworkers took note, her eyes fixed on the screen, that pink swell of mare pussy. Clicking on to it, she unexpectedly started a video of two horses having sex, likely at a breeding farm, and groaned, her shaft throbbing where it was growing up and out of her clothes.
“Oh, yes… Mmm… Fuck that mare…"
The words didn't sound like words anymore, not to anyone who was paying attention to her, though Brooke was too far gone to even realise what was going on around her. She clenched down with her anus, the pull of her shirt tearing under her arm dragging at her attention, though only briefly.
Her throbbing, aching cock had to be used as she moaned and thrust it against the desk, struggling increasingly to recognise the images on the screen as mares. It was just a different way of perceiving the world, perhaps able to recognise something in the mirror but not if there was a picture on paper. Animals, after all, did not experience the world in the same way as humans.
And Brooke would not be human for much longer, not as her shirt with the horse motif hung from her chest, her shoulders cracking and resetting as her hands fully fused into hoof-like shapes. Yet she neighed brokenly, having spent her last words as a woman, her tail dangling as a coarse fall of hair flicked against the backs of her legs. Brooke did not have all that much control over it, not yet, but her hooved feet bore anxiously against the front of her boots, demanding freedom.
When her hooves finally burst through, the toes still lightly separated, enough to show there had been some humanity there, once. She smirked brokenly, her lips wobbling as they became softer and more flexible, and pulled crudely at her socks. Her boots half stuck on her transforming feet, but they would come off sooner or later, so Brooke was not really worried. It was hard to worry as strength and vitality flowed through her.
“Mmmm…"
She let out a soft, low groan as she bent down to her foot, taking the change to suckle and lap around the toes as they changed. They were not much of toes anymore, no, but they were enough for her to suck headily on the flesh of the foot even as it shifted into a harder, hoof-like substance. Brooke didn't know what hooves were made from, not truly, but that didn't matter to a stallion.
All a stallion needed to know was how to be a stallion.
The heady musk of her hoof-feet sank into her system, her nose flattening and her nostrils elongating, becoming that distinctive, equine shape. They fluttered with every breath and she greedily sucked in gulp after gulp of air, working her lips around her toes as they all sunk together, the last little bits sealing shut as she was left with a clunky, misshapen hoof at the end of each foot.
She tried to lick and suck at it, though moving her tongue was like trying to control something that no longer sealed into the back of her mouth as expected, not in the slightest. She groaned, drooling around it, half-crashing to the ground in an awkward slump. With a flailing hand, she dragged her monitor off the desk, the bang and crash echoing through the office, even though there were not all that many people left, watching in horror.
The monitor flickered, replaying the video of horses breeding over and over again, as if that was all the computer had left on it. The image jumped and juddered, though Brooke grunted and thrust lustfully towards it, a dim memory of need racing to the forefront of her mind. Although she could not decipher what was on the screen any longer, not as she lost what was there of her human mind, she knew it was good, she knew she wanted it.
Was that not enough for her to take exactly what her throbbing dick longed for?
Brooke could not even get her boots off, with her half-transformed hoof hands, but she merely slammed a hoof on the desk, neighing loudly. Ignorant to the screams, shouts and curses of her coworkers, she proudly exulted in the transformation rolling through her, her hindquarters thickening as her legs pushed “up" as if she was walking on her toes. Of course, the legs of a horse were set rather differently to those of a human, walking on the hoof, which was kind of like walking on one's toes.
“She's gone crazy!"
“What the fuck's going on?"
“Someone call the police!"
But Brooke was not a creature, no, who could be stopped by any means, least of all the threat of the police. She stomped a hoof and staggered up, sort of on all fours, though the bones of her arms still had to crack and realign, putting the point of her elbow up much closer to the barrel of her belly. She shrugged off her underwear, her tail stretching and pulling all the way up through her spine, though it was not an erotically enticing sensation, no, not by any means.
Again, she let out a wet fart, though, that time, her tail lifted to accommodate it, the hairs flicking up higher. Yet she felt the need to defecate, grunting in the back of her throat and finding her hooves forming into a better shape with a roll to the edge of it: barefoot, of course. She kicked and jerked her hoof out to the side, shaking off the remains of the boot through brute force alone, for there was little else she could do to get what she needed there.
The computer screen changed and she pricked up her ears, recognising the sounds. Even though the monitor was hanging on by a thread, the computer had somehow moved on to videos of horses just moving around the farm and barnyard, defecating and farting. Those things, of course, were very normal for horses and nothing bad at all, though she lifted her tail, her guts gurgling as they rearranged.
The horse to relieve herself rose within her, a soft fold of flesh pulling around the base of her cock as her balls hung freely, finally in their rightful place, dangling below her. Yet her cock kept growing and growing as it jerked and slapped up against her underbelly, the stallion unconsciously masturbating as a horse who had never been a human would. After all, horses didn't have hands to masturbate with, so things were rather more difficult for them.
Her new ears twitched as she listened to the horses doing their business, head whipping back and forth as she tried to catch where they were coming from. Where were the horses? Did she need to defecate too? It would mark her territory, carrying scent and information, though the logistics of why her body ached to grumble and relieve itself were not something her increasingly simplistic mind could understand.
“Nnnnggggghhhh-hhhnnnn…"
She groaned and tried to shape herself off, her hair pulling down the back of her neck, darkening to match the black of her tail as if someone was dyeing it right there and then for her. Brooke rapped her hooves on the desk, staggering up, though she was left in a half-rear, her ribcage expanding as her midsection rounded out into a typical barrel-like shape. Her shoulders pushed up, meeting at the top in the rise of vertebrae that formed an equine wither, her neck long enough to support the weight of her new head.
That was, at least, more comfortable for her, twisting her head at the poll and letting out a soft grunt. Giving in to her desires, she stood on four hooves, however shakily, the hock growing more defined in a smooth pull of new bone and tendons at the backs of her hind legs. Her tail lifted and she let out a sputtering fart.
“Pfffttt… Pffffttt… Pppppppfffffffrrrrrrppppp…"
With that, Brooke fully flagged her tail, not needing to do anything other than simply follow instinct as she defecated, pushing out thick lumps of horse manure from her backside. Leaving a pile of horse apples behind her, after all, was just another time-honoured equine tradition she was taking part in, her lips quivering as she stood tall, legs lengthening to bring her withers up to sixteen hands tall.
Not that Brooke knew that, not as she tested out first one foreleg and then the other, inspecting the objects on her desk with curious lips. Her eyes blurred as they completed their shift to the sides of her face, offering her a wider range of vision, though she couldn't quite see what lay before her nose anymore.
The meat of her cock slapped up against her belly as she tried to strut, though flexing her abdominal muscles was far more appealing. The coworkers who knew what had happened, with her transformation, reeled, horrified and disgusted, though Brooke no longer possessed the sense of humiliation. What need, after all, did a horse have to be humiliated?
A shred of a boot clung to her left hind fetlock, though she paid it no mind. It wouldn't bother her, though she curiously pawed at the shredded clothes on the floor too, scraping up the horrible carpet with a front hoof. Her cock jerked and slapped and she grunted, displaying her rampant horniness openly as need flowed through her.
There were no mares there, she thought, inhaling deeply, her own reek filling her nostrils. But, of course, Brooke could still take care of her needs, her cock and balls much bigger than those of a regular stallion's. Not that she would know that, her balls jiggling and swaying with every flex of her lumbar and rock of her hips, need coursing through her, slap after heady slap.
She groaned, shuddering bodily as that need reached a peak, long, hot jets of horse cum shooting forth. They painted the ground in sticky, white streaks and she kept on cumming and cumming, her body sending out all it had to give. There would be plenty more where that came from, of course, for her balls ached and sloshed with more cum still, refilling themselves at a much swifter rate than what a natural stallion would have experienced.
It was just another little gift from the fairy, all to make sure the shift from her mundane life was rendered absolutely and pleasurable.
As her cock softened, hanging down in a heavy, soft arc under its own weight, she groaned, releasing a stream of piss. Uncaring for the mess she made, the wetness splattered back up, adding and acrid, gag-worthy stink to the air. Brooke groaned, nostrils fluttering as she breathed heavily, a line down her flank showing where she was exerting more effort simply in that act, but urination was not something to hold back from.
Not when she was a horse, her human mind lost forever, having been given the relaxed, simple life she'd craved for so long. Even though Brooke had not been able to afford a horse of her own, someone else would have to look after her: a brute of a breeding stallion who was perfect to send out to a stud farm.
She mooched her way out of the cubicle, snorting heavily at the people running away from her. Just what was their problem? But at least the strange predators weren't staring at her, so Brooke felt just a little more secure than she had before.
At her size, every inch of her bay body rippled with power, a long, flowing tail cast down towards her fetlocks, a black mane spilling romantically down her neck. She lifted her tail high, head raised, and released her bowels again, her cock slowly receding, though she didn't care whether or not it was out. It was none of her concern, not as the hot, wet splatter of horse droppings dropped heavily to the carpet, a rippling, damp fart accompanying the very last, smaller droppings.
Her cock remained half out as Brooke sauntered through the office, soon to be picked up by animal control. Yet no one would ever again speak of what happened to the woman in the office that day, becoming a stallion against her will – and finding a new sense of aching power in the process.
Maybe, just like that fairy passing by at just the right time, it was all meant to be.
Caught in her perfect fantasy life, Brooke would never know.