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It was all I could do to try and struggle in my restraints. As it was, the strength of the leather bindings holding my arms to my sides, as well as the ever weakening effects of the drug they had given me, meant I could barely muster up the energy to move my arms more than an inch in either direction, let alone actually get off of the chair I was strapped down to. I could see the doctor picking something up off of a table that was blocked from view by my leg, but as he raised it up, all I could see was my own reflection coming off of the shiny silver dome.

I should probably explain just how I ended up strapped down to a chair in a doctor's office in the first place.

You see, just a few days ago, everything was normal. I was twenty years old, a college student studying video game design. The end of the semester just behind us, and the weeks rapidly approaching my 21st birthday. It was stupid, but my friends were insisting that we drive down across the border into the US and have ourselves a nice night out drinking, despite that being our usual weekend plan here at home. But hey, who was I to judge, they were offering me a chance to get drunk off my face on their dime, I wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

And so, my three buddies and I all drove across the border, got wasted, and the unlucky bastard who pulled the short straw drove us all home while we were passed out in the back seat.

When I woke up the next morning, the worst hangover I had ever experienced knocked my flat on my ass. It didn't help that all three of my bastard friends had decided that they would make as much noise as possible to get me up, even though I knew two of them had to have hangovers almost as bad as mine.

"Wakey wakey, ya stallion, breakfast!"

John could go die in a fire. He had always used nicknames, though I had to admit that stallion was a new one from him, but doing this to me on the day after my 21st birthday was some kinda sick punishment for having to be the designated driver last night.

"Fuck off, John, this is the worst hangover I've ever had. My body feels strange and my feet almost feel numb. Just let me sleep this off."

John, of course, wouldn't do anything of the sort. "Get up, you daft bastard. I made a giant mess cooking you up a ton of eggs, bacon, and sausage, so you are going to get your ass in the kitchen and eat your breakfast or I will drag you there by your hooves."

"Hooves? What the..." That was enough to snap me out of my groggy haze. I rolled over and rubbed my eyes, letting out a gasp when I finally saw him. It had to be John, that was his voice, but it didn't look like him. What was standing before me was a black haired horse with a closely cropped mane. That was enough to snap me instantly out of my hangover.

"What the fuck!?" I screamed, jumping to my feet. Or, well, I did for all of a second before I slipped and fell only my knees, catching myself against the ground with my hands. My feet felt weird, and it only took me a second to figure out why. My hands, they were a rich brown, covered in short hairs, and the fingers tipped with something much harder than skin, but not as hard as the hooves that I was instantly certain I now had instead of feet. I scrambled, rushing to where I knew John's bathroom was. With the door safely locked behind me, I took one look in the mirror and began to freak out.

I was a horse. Where before there had been pinkish skin, mostly free of hair, now there was only the rich brown coat of a horse. My face stuck out in a long muzzle, my hair now a long and uncrossed mane. I looked down, seeing myself standing on hooves, and I could feel the oddest sensations coming from behind me, from what I could only assume was a tail that I was not quite sober enough to face yet. And my junk felt heavier. Sure enough, hanging where there had only been an average sized dick for a human was a horse's sheath, filled out with what I could only assume was an equally impressive dick, given the heavy balls I now had, being barely supported by my boxers.

As I hyperventilated, I could hear John and the other two talking outside the bathroom door.

"Is he alright in there?" That was Damian.

"Yeah, what gives? I thought you'd said you'd get him up if we banged a few pots and then got to eating?" That was Brad. Fuck him, caring more about eating than his friend.

"I don't know. He took one look at me and freaked out. He probably had just a bit too much to drink last night, maybe had a few nightmares." John knocked on the door. "You alright in there, Chris?"

I shook my head, even though they couldn't see me. My voice stuttered. "No. N-not really."

"You're just really hungover. Come on out and eat some of that away."

There was no way I could tell him that I had never been more sober in my life, so I just acquiesced, opening the door and heading towards John's kitchen, trying to ignore the fact that walking on hooves almost seemed like second nature, or that everything smelled much more distinct, whether it was the delicious scent of the bacon and eggs, or the fact that I could tell where exactly each of my three friends were just by the smell of their sweat, or the fact that I could even smell their sweat from a distance.

Not that I minded that last part. They may have been assholes at times, but they were all damn fine looking, or at least they had been, and none of them cared that I was gay, or that I enjoyed being around them after a workout before they showered. Hell, Chad was bi, and the most willing to allow the occasional deep whiff of him, though the other two let me on occasion.

And so, I sat down, started eating. Everything was mechanical as I tried to process what the hell had happened to me, just why the hell I and all my friends were horses. Was everybody horses? Was me being a human some nightmare? Was THIS a nightmare?

It was Chad's voice that knocked me out of my stupor, a forkful of eggs halfway to my mouth. "What's got you so beat, Chris? I thought you'd be rocking today, you were a fucking stallion last night. Guys couldn't stop flirting with you, and you even got a number or two. That's every stallion's dream for a good birthday night!"

I banged my hand down on the table. "I'm not a fucking stallion!"

Everyone froze, looks of shock on their faces. Eventually, Damian piped up. "Now, I know that you're gay, even if you're definitely a sub, that doesn't mean you're not a stallion!"

"Stop calling me a stallion! I'm not a fucking stallion!" If this was a dream, I wanted it to end. Sure, being an animal would be cool and all, but I'm a fucking human being, god dammit, and them calling me a stallion every other sentence was pissing me off.

They all looked at each other. "That's kinda... personal information, don't you think, Chris? You sure you want to say that?"

I sighed and hug my head. "Just... just stop calling me that, okay? I'm just... I'm not..."

John stood up, patting my back. "It's okay, Chris. Look, just finish up your breakfast, get dressed, and then we'll take you to the doctor's. Somebody must have slipped something into our drink, that's why you're feeling this way today. You're just a little out of it."

I nodded. Yeah, maybe I was just hallucinating. Maybe the doctor could give me something, and then this would all come to an end.

--

Of course, it didn't. All three of them came with me, though I didn't know why at the time. They were trying to be supportive, I guess. I can appreciate that now, but...

When I got to the doctor's, John told me to sit down and that he'd take care of it. It wasn't long before a nurse came out and handed me a clipboard with quite a few pages full of text. "To make sure you know what you're doing," she had said. I just signed the papers where I was supposed to, wondering just why I had to sign a bunch of forms for an appointment.

Soon, I was called back to the sterile office, where the doctor stood off to the side, a high backed chair in the centre of the room. He told me to strip, swallow a pill that he placed on the counter next to a glass of water, and then sit in the chair, after which he left the room to give me some privacy. I found the second part a bit odd, but I complied, stripping down to my boxers and swallowing back the pill before hoisting myself up into the chair. Whatever he gave me acted quick, as I soon found it harder and harder to hold my head or my arms up, and I slumped back as the doctor came back in.

"Perfect. Now, Mr. Anders, your friends informed me that you kept telling them to no longer call you a stallion, is that correct?" He asked the question, although I certainly couldn't move my head enough to reply, and he continued on as though I had confirmed it for it. "It's all perfectly normal for a young horse your age to question themselves, although in cases like yours, it usually doesn't come on so suddenly. It's not unheard of, however, for one's feelings to change overnight. But it's why we had you sign the forms, so we could ensure that you knew just what you were getting yourself into."

I stared at him on confusion. He approached the chair, and reached down to the base, pulling up two long arms with half-tubes attached to the ends. With practiced ease, he lifted my legs up into the holsters, spreading them apart. He then pulled two straps up from the sides of the chair, each ending in a cuff, and attached a cuff to each of my wrists, pulling the straps tight. Reaching back, he pulled a tray that I hadn't noticed towards him, picking up a pair of fabric scissors to cut my boxers away. "In all cases like these, we don't go straight to gelding. That would be barbaric. But there is something we can do to help determine if this is the right path for you."

My eyes widened in fear. I may have been a video game major, but I knew what the word gelding meant. There was no way my friends would... No. If we really all were horses, and had been all our lives, of course that is what they would think. If I'm not a stallion, there is only one thing I could be...

I tried to yell out that this had been a huge mistake. I hadn't meant it like that. I had meant that I was human! The words wouldn't come, though, I still couldn't talk. All I could do was watch as he pulled out the metal dome, which had a hole at the tip, and slipped it down over my dick, or more accurately over my sheath. The coldness of it made me shiver, and I could feel it hugging snugly around my new dick cover. Soon after came three straps, which looked like leather, and each of which clicked into little slots on the metal dome. One wrapped around my waist, while the other two wrapped around my legs before attaching to the waist band, almost like a jockstrap, but more secure. When everything was in place, he gave each strap a firm tug, some hidden mechanism keeping them, and the dome, locked into place.

"As is procedure, and as you agreed to, this chastity cage will be locked on for a term of one year. This is to help get you used to the idea of what life could be like as a gelding. While it's not the same, as you well know, it's the closest that we can get without artificially halting your hormone production. That is an option, by the way, but only after six months and with the advisement of your therapist, who you will attend appointments with every two weeks to keep tabs on your mental state."

I could feel more strength returning to me. "This... this isn't..."

The doctor stopped me. "This is for your own good. Many young stallions were given the chance to become geldings and regretted it before we implemented the mandatory chastity year prior to gelding. And fear and anxiety is normal in the week following this appointment. You'll fear you'd made a mistake and want out of the chastity. Unfortunately, unless a severe medical condition arises, the cage can not be removed. To ensure that, the locks are built into the cage's mechanisms, so you can't get at them with bolt cutters, and the key will remain here at the office."

"I didn't mean..." I stuttered. "I meant that I am a h..."

The word died in my mouth. I keep trying to say human, but nothing would come out. It wasn't whatever the doctor gave me, my body was just incapable of saying the word human. My eyes went wide, and the doctor just nodded.

"Look, I understand, but this is for your own good. Most patients who come in have this reaction, but it's only a year. In a year, I'll see you again, and one of three things will happen: you'll have known all along that you wish to be gelded, in which case we will make an appointment to have the surgery done. You'll have decided that you do not want to be gelded, at which point we will unlock the cage and you'll be on your way. Or, and this is rare, but it has happened, you'll still be unsure, in which case we will provide the key to a trusted person of your choice, and you'll go on your way, with as much time as you like to make up your mind."

All my fight left me. This was it. That cage was going to stay on me for a year, and there was nothing I could do about it. This wasn't a dream. I truly was a horse now, and my own stupidity had gotten my dick locked up. The doctor undid the bindings on my arm, and lowered the stirrups so that my hooves touched the floor once again. My energy coming back, I stood up with a slight wobble, grabbing the chair to steady myself.

"Once you're ready, you can get dressed and rejoin your friends in the lobby. Take care, Mr. Anders."

As the doctor left, I reached down to the domed cage on my dick. The metal had warmed to my body, and even grasping it as hard as I could, all my dick could feel was the pressure of the metal pushing at it from outside my sheath. The cage barely budged no matter which way I pushed or pulled it, and the sensations started bringing my dick out, though it barely moved an inch before it pressed up against hard, unyielding metal.

With a sigh, I gave up. I wasn't getting out of the cage. Resigned, I got dressed, and slowly made my way back out to the lobby, where my three 'friends' were all waiting for me. With smiles, they all greeted me with slaps on the back, and tiny jabs at my current state. Just as they would have with any other thing any of us had done.

Walking out of the doctor's office, feeling the tight, confining metal of the chastity cage around my length, with each scent of my friends making my dick throb just the smallest bit, I knew it was going to be a very long, very horny year.