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I was new at my job when the boss assigned me to work with Mr. Charles Robertson. Mr. Robertson had worked as an insurance risk inspector for thirty years. He traveled across the states of Indiana, Ohio, and Michigan, checking the premises where people lived and of factories where people worked, inspecting for possible claims. He never married and as far as he was concerned never wanted either a wife or family. My new boss was the truest of loner I ever met. I rode with Charles for eight months before he told me about what he did on the weekends. He said that after Friday getting his weekly paycheck, he would drive to his house he had inherited from his parents, pop a can of beer open and then plop in a recliner chair to watch TV, and fell asleep in his chair. He had no hobbies, no outside interests, not sports and his only interest was with horseracing!

When we rode together in his vehicle he would discuss where we were to go and what then to check and inspect, looking for anything that might cause a loss or an injury. It was a Thursday and we were some four hundred miles away from our home base of Fort Wayne, Indiana. The previous night Charles received an e-mail directing us to change our previously specified inspection, and travel to the upper peninsula of Michigan.

Along U.S.28, we were to look for the ranch/farm listed as the Double R-R Ranch. Our inspection was of a horse farm what specialized with the breeding of Mules and Icelandic ponies. According to the insurance application, the owner claimed his total sales for the past ten years exceeded the sum of $425,000. According to thee-mail sent by the home office, we were to inspect for infractions dealing with building codes and any possible claim situations. We were to take as much time as Charles thought was necessary, even if we had to stay there for an overnight stop.

Seventy-eight miles from where Charles said, we should come to the ranch, he pulled the car into a common truck stop, gas station and restaurant. I checked the laptop computer for the actual mailing address, making a hand written note as to it, being North off U.S.28 to Michigan highway 13, following it past the town named Cooper, for six miles to Old Pony Road, where we were to look for the address as 91012 Old Pony Road.

The drive took longer than expected and Charles was becoming nervous from a personal need to stop. The truck stop was at an old A&W root beer stand. We got out of the car and walked inside the very rustic to plainly dirty little eatery. Charles sat down at the luncheon counter, he took to sitting on the barstool that was the closest to where were the rest room.

Once the Waitress had taken our food orders, Charles asked if he would need to request a key for the use of the restroom.

I almost laughed a loud when the Waitress informed Charles that their only restroom was for employees only, and if he had a need, there were two outhouses to the rear of the building. She offered Charles the use of the rear door of the restaurant as the easiest way to get to the outhouses, they setting a good hundred yards to the rear of the decrepit old building.

A few truckers sat and watched as a rather self-conscious 55 year-old man walked slowly toward the rear door to the place, and as he opened the door, I heard Charles exclaim, "Oh crap!"

As from where I sat the opened door offered a good view to a trail what zigzagged up a hill to where the two red painted outhouses stood. Lucky for Charles, as he opened the door to the outhouse, a ten year-old boy exited, he yelled to Charles to hold his nose when going inside.

Charles entered and closed the outhouse door rather slowly, as from the inside of the house likely looked a bit unhealthy to my boss. He took but a couple of minutes and did exit the outhouse with haste. I could hear the outhouse door being slammed shut, when Charles came out and had to walk that narrow trail back to the restaurant. His likely quick walk down the trail had his shoe as got caught by the exposed root to a tree. He yelled when it happened, as did stumble as he fell to the ground.

I got off my barstool seat and thought to go be of some help to my boss and partner. When I opened the door leading out back to the outhouses, I saw Charles lying face down, his right hand reaching to touch his torn pants leg, he had a scraped as bloody knee. As he got up rather slowly, Charles had a few choice words to say. I was watching when he pushed up as to get off the ground, he stopped and looking where he fell, his left hand reach for, and picked up a shiny silver ring.

The bobble was bright and he tried putting it on his right pinky finger.

When Charles came inside the restaurant, the cook and owner expressed his concern for Charles and told his Waitress to get the emergency first aid kit. While we ate our lunch, the Waitress worked diligently at dressing the wound on that bloodied knee. She then produced a needle and thread, as did a fair stitching to the torn pant leg material.

Charles ate his lunch and paid little if any attentions to what the young woman was doing for him. He was very interested with the silver ring he had found where he lost his feelings of gracefulness.

"It is a non-gender size and shape ring, as obviously made of silver," Charles said as he took the ring off and looking closely at it, he then added, "There is some inscription engraved along the inside of the ring, it printed in Latin!"

We finished our rather good tasting lunch and the owner would not take a dime for what we ate, he acting as apologetic about Charles having taken a bad fall. He made mention as to another of his customers had fallen along the trail, they then being chased by a black bear. The bear came out of the dense underbrush, he smelling of food coming from the restaurant chimney.

"A young woman about thirty, a fancy dresser her," he said, "she fell and the bear being in a hurry to go where he smelled food, did leap a jump over her, causing her to scream and said some demeaning words about bears and her fear of them. The bear then stumbled and rolled furry ass over his head to lie near the back door to the restaurant.

Sadly, the young woman went to lying on the ground, her eyes wide, her mouth trying to talk, but what she said was a garbled mess of words and groans. We all went to her aid, but just from looking at her condition; I said she looked as if she had had a stroke.

Oddly, the bear lingered, wandering around outside the restaurant, as if it was interested but not enough to cause any added trouble. After the police and ambulance arrived, the cop chased the bear back into the woods, he taking a pistol shot close to it that made the bear turn and run away."

I took the keys from Charles and told him to take a seat as the passenger. He just sat there looking at his silvery find, while trying to check the engraved words with the laptop, he having in it the dictionary to nine different languages. One of the languages being oddly was Latin, as I remarked the Latin would come in handy if we ever met an ex-Roman emperor.

The drive to the farm kept Charles quiet and busy looking at his find, and checking on the price per ounce of silver.

When we had arrived to the Double R-R Ranch, we were surprised to see the four rail high PCV fences. The driveway entering the farm property was paved and smooth, as it had had a wintertime seal coat applied. As we drove along the driveway, the house was nearer to being a southern states style of a civil war era mansion. I counted five adjacent buildings, all having metal roofs of recent applications, and each building was clad with vinyl siding, it kept very clean.

"A place for everything and everything kept in its place," Charles remarked.

The property, the lawn, and the lush green paddocks near the main house made the place look like it was well worth four million dollars worth of insurance. Charles was first to take note as mention about the herd of thirty ponies, a couple of draft horses, several Thoroughbred type horses grazing calmly, and in a pasture were beef cows, they kept for ultimate slaughter, as we saw no problems!

Mrs. Randolph was the present owner, although the insurance application made mention as to the Lakota and Emma gene Randolph living trust as the titled owner of the farm and property. We gave our friendliest of greetings to Mrs. Randolph, and she acted rather cool about our having to come there and do an inspection of the property.

Charles walked far ahead of Mrs. Randolph and me, as we talked, me asking the usual questions and she giving her answers while keeping a wary eye looking to where my partner was off to looking around.

Our host offered me to follow her to the sun porch, it situated at a high point where from it a person could see most of the ranch property. We sat and talked, a Day-maid brought out a pitcher of lemonade and six glasses?

Mrs. Randolph acted as if she were upset about Charles, as he had disappeared into the pony stable for almost an hour. She rose up out of her chair and retrieved a pair of binoculars, as put them to her eyes and said, "Where is your partner?"

"Is there a problem here?" I asked, as without the use of binoculars I spotted Charles standing in the open stables doorway what led to fenced aisles leading to either the corrals or the pastures. Mrs. Randolph did not respond to my question, she put down her binoculars and walked, no marched toward where she saw Charles standing.

"Hey, hey you there, yes you!" Mrs. Randolph said as she stomped her way walking to where Charles was standing. I followed right along behind the upset woman, thinking that Charles might need a witness to the coming confrontation.

"Well, did you find what you were looking for, huh, huh, huh?" Mrs. Randolph said, she in a royal huff.

"Oh, ah hello, oh no everything you own and have here is in tip-top condition. I was just thinking how peaceful your farm is, and the view down the valley there makes me think of a wish to find someplace as peaceful to retire someday," said Charles, he not breaking his viewing as he answered Mrs. Randolph.

I stood ten feet behind Mrs. Randolph, she giving a couch as if to clear her throat, before she walked toward the open barn door. She stood then beside Charles as she did clap her hands. The whole pony herd heard her clap as every head popped up from where they were grazing. As one pony took but a short minute to get eye contact with a Dun colored larger pony, the entire herd took off at a wild galloping stampede, they heading toward their owner and Charles.

Mrs. Randolph walked a few feet to the left of where Charles had stood and he was backing away as the pony herd came closer. There was a cloud of dust when the herd came to a stop, they mingling carefully around Mrs. Randolph, as if they were puppies coming in from play.

"Wow, they do respect you," said Charles, as I said about the same thing.

"They know my voice, and it reminds them of safety when in the barn, where they get a ration of food," said Mrs. Randolph.

Charles and I watched as she cut up apples into quarters, before she fed her hungry ponies. The larger Dun colored stallion pranced up to greet Mrs. Randolph, he pushing past the mares, came close to his owner and accept a piece of an apple.

The faint as distant ringing of the house phone sent Mrs. Randolph running toward the stables office. While she was busy, the ponies began to mill about the stranger, Charles, as he became uneasy.

A brash sudden whinny and the herd stopped their movements, as all stood very still. The Dun colored pony walked through the herd to stand near to Chuck. As Chuck felt more at ease, he began petting the stallion pony along its strong neck, as across its back.

The Dun colored stallion lowered his head, he taking a sniff of the rump rear of a mare. The mare flicked her tail and then raised it, as from behind her I could see she was urinating.

The stallion snorted, he rolled his upper lip way up, he showing his green teeth. The mare responded as well, she took a half stride step forward and held her tail high and to one side away from her rump, her hind legs spread as if to expect something to happen.

Charles just stood there; he nearer to the mare then to the stallion, as the male became hugely aroused, making Charles to gawk as stare. I had seen what was happening there as at other farms, but Charles seemed to act as mesmerized by what he saw.

The big stallion pranced past Charles, and then gave a foreleg leap up, as he mounted the mare over her rump. As the stallion stood mounted, he turned his head to cast a look toward Charles.

"What," said Charles as if he were talking to the stallion, while wondering if his presence there was improper?

"He is expecting you to be of a helper." I yelled to Charles.

The other ponies all mingled in close around the two mating ponies, while they encircled Charles as well.

Chuck was stuck, held there by the encircling mares, until they help him as trapped and pushed ever closer to the ponies making love.

I imagined that Charles being very much a bachelor, his own love life being dull, he as then given a sudden education of equine procreation, it working to spark his interest as he watched the stallion blindly prodding, he poking his enlarged male member at the mare's rump.

The stallion ceased his frantic trying to score, as it turned his head and cast a look back at Charles.

"What," Charles said again, he acting as if scared and near frantic.

"Grab hold of his cock and help him aim it to where he wants it to go, like into the mare," I yelled, my loud voice seemed to annoy the mingling mares, as three came away from the herd to come and nuzzle at me.

Charles looked back at me and then up at the stallion, as who was as nodding his head as to signify he was pleased by what I told my friend to do. Whether it was a friendly aid needed at the right time, or just a fond hope of equine enjoyment, when the stallion had fired his load he stepped down off the mare.

I had watched as Charles rather timidly reached over and guided the big cock into the proper spot. The touch brought a gaze down from the high mounted pony. The big stallion though busy, gave a whinnied sort of thanks, as he became able then to properly breed with the mare, and did so as if his life depended on his sexual functioning.

Chuck watched in interest, as he had never seen a pony do it, let alone be this close. The wet sloppy sucking sounds of a bloated horse cock thrusting piston style, working at arousing both mare and stallion drew Charles to bring his face so close to the mating, I feared the stallion's strong thrust might knock my partner senseless.

Mrs. Randolph had not returned when the stallion dismounted and stood wagging his member still coated from his enjoying delight. The stallion came close to Charles, as my partner began again his petting of the strong neck and mane.

The air had a heady scent of stallion musk and some spicy odor.

Charles was all smiles; he cast a quick look back at me before he turned toward the big stud stallion. Charles and the stallion were eye to eye at the same height, when I heard Charles say, "Damn me, how my life is lonely, I wish I was like you, free and enjoying your God given abilities!"

At that moment, the stallion reared up high and did a staggering prance backing away from my partner. Charles looked like his whole body had gone limp, and he collapsed right then as there just inside the barn.

l heard Mrs. Randolph scream at the sight of what had just happened. She turned and rushed back inside the stables office and dialed 911.

The herd of pony mares did not turn and run, but they meandered away to a safer distance, as though they somehow could understand the seriousness of the situation.

I rushed toward where Charles laid, he face down on the barn floor.

I checked the vital signs on Charles, he was breathing on his own. He looked as a man dazed, his eyes were wide open, but his whole body felt stiff as if he were a piece of lumber.

"I think he had a stroke," I yelled to Mrs. Randolph, she by then in contact with the local fire department and they sending out the paramedics.

Charles began to moan, but did not speak or say anything intelligible.

The ponies all wandered away with the exception of the big stallion. He stood nearby, just outside the barn door. I noted the stallion stood and watched, he did not flinch when the siren screaming fire emergency trucks drove into the barn. I told the paramedics what I had done and that Charles was breathing on his own, and his heart rate a guessed was over 100 beats per minute.

The rescue crew then rolled Charles over, he then face up, and told him to lie quiet, and not try to talk.

Mrs. Randolph flagged her arms at the pony herd, as they spun a fast turn and all, save one, ran back toward the open pasture. The big stallion stayed to watch. I took note the big horse had quite an erection hanging. The thing occasionally did lift and bonked the furred big belly, as went limp making it to swing harshly down to swinging loosely as he stared at Charlie.

Sudden like and Charles sat up, and he began to cough, while holding a hand at his heart, as he did moan.

Mrs. Randolph spoke, she acting very considerate for the man she spent much her afternoon disliking because he was doing what she could not direct. A disoriented Charles ended up laid onto the gurney, he still coughing and seemingly struggling to speak; wanting bad to say something. He kept raising his right arm and as if pointing at the pony stallion, he definitely wanted everybody there to know what he felt was so urgent to tell.

The ambulance arrived in a flurry of dust and screaming siren. The paramedics helped to load Charles into the emergency vehicle and it sped away. The men began cleaning up what all they used on Charles, as I stood off toward the barn door watching, as I felt a presence.

I turned to see then we were face to face, me with the big Dun colored stallion. He was standing just three feet behind me; his breathing was slow and soft, as if he were at peace with his world.

The stallion strolled past me, to stand about where Charles had collapsed. The horse began to walk in circles, the circles growing wider as if it were searching for something. I watched him circling, as stop and give a pawing action using his right fore-hoof, moving a clump of straw to check if what it wanted was there under the clump.

Suddenly the stallion raised his head and bolted, took off into a wild run toward the pasture. He took to acting as if it were springtime, like a young colt feeling elated for allowed out of the barn and go running around in the pasture. He kicked up his hind legs and hoofs, giving me the idea his concern for Charles had ceased, and he wanted to go mingle with his herd of mares.

Back at the barn Mrs. Randolph, looked as still shaken by the happenings to the insurance inspector keeling over from a possible stroke? She had ignored the activities of her prime stallion, and began walking slowly back toward the main house.

A employee there at the stables happened to come toward me, he pointing past me toward the pasture, as he said, "That stallion Kazan, he at times seems almost human!"

I turned to give a look toward the pasture and saw all the pony mares crowding close to their herd stallion. As the mares came close and began nibbling at his body, his buttocks, and elsewhere, Kazan went wild. He began prancing about with his mare following, the big stud acting like he was just a new colt in springtime.

"Kazan, Kazan," called Mrs. Randolph from her upper level porch.

Kazan seemed so thrilled at all who chased after him, even the mare he mated with earlier did wiggle in front of him and began prancing with her tail raised.

The wild activities soon calmed and Kazan stopped, he stood and gave a look back toward the barn.

"Kazan, come here my big stallion," said Mrs. Randolph she by then stood near the pasture fence, as she beckoned holding up an apple.

The stallion came a plodding slowly, walking up the small rise to the barn door, and not directly going to his master. He acted a little clumsy when offer the apple, as grabbing for his treat, as if taking something using his lips were not his normal manner of gathering food. Kazan fumbled the apple piece and it fell to the ground. Mrs. Randolph attached a rein to the halter on Kazan's head. A tug by her to the rein and a happy acting pony stallion followed along, as if still feeling giddy.

The Lady led Kazan from the barn and down a path toward what looked like an old smoke house. The door to the building creaked when she opened it, and both pony and the Lady looked inside.

"Come along Kazan, come boy come!" she said tugging on the rein.

Kazan looked inside and then at Mrs. Randolph, as she needed to give several tugs and many more words to coax the stallion before he walked into the dark building. As Mrs. Randolph stepped inside she closed the door and snapped on a light; leaving me outside.

I peeked inside to see in the small building was an odd four legged contraption. It built of wood. It had two flat squares of wood one each side and a curving trough down the middle. The scent of the room was musty, and had the lovely smell like the musky scents what the stallion seemed it remembered.

Mrs. Randolph pulled up a short stool and sat directly face to face with Kazan. Closing her eyes, she raised her hands, each to a side of the pony's head. Spreading her fingers wide she began a long oratory.

Kazan stood still as he watched the goings on. I felt a very odd feeling, a power of something; it was engulfing me and seemed to be reacting at the pony stallion as well.

"Kazan, Frank, Kazan, Frank, Kazan, speak now, so tell me what ails you my lover!" I heard Mrs. Randolph saying, she was working a magical seyonce, as if the pony were some lost love, weird!

Kazan looked at her and then to his surprise, that of Mrs. Randolph, and to me, the stallion pony literally spoke. "Hey lady I don't know what you just did, but I am as happy to be your pony, as if I was born here!" Said Kazan, but the manner of speech and tone of voice was that of Charles, my partner.

Mrs. Randolph sat there and starred at the pony. She then rolled off where she sat to fall on the hard dirt floor of that shed.

"You are not my Frank?"Mrs. Randolph blurting said.

"No, no, because I am Charles, Mr. Charles Robertson, your ex-insurance inspector!

Who is this Frank Kazan?" Charlie asked, and with my hearing his voice, I then entered the shed.

"Hello partner, I bet you got a hundred questions to ask," Charles said, he flicking his tail in my face.

Mrs. Randolph sat there looking stunned and then she began to look angry. "You, how did you get to be my pony stallion?

You did an exchange, how did you exchange bodies', oh, oh you found the Silver Ring," she exclaimed!

"Yup, " replied Charles, as just then I said, "Yes, my partner found a silvery ring, it had Latin words engraved around on the inside of it."

"Why would you pick to exchange with Kazan, Frank? Why would you choose to rather be a pony stallion?" asked the Mrs. Randolph of Charles.

"Oh it was more a mistake of not knowing that the ring had any magic to it. I was trapped by the pony herd when you ran for the phone, your stallion humped a mare, and all I could do is watch. Well whether it was the peaceful valley I saw, or the raw sex I witnessed, I said a wish to be like that stallion at stud, it just came out of me," said Charles, as if nothing strange was about the happening or his then ability to speak his thoughts.

"Oh, Mrs. Randolph, where is Frank?" asked Charlie, as I chimed in, "He went to the hospital being now in the body of Mr. Charles Robertson!"

Mrs. Randolph then stood up and peered into the round brown eyes of her prime stallion pony.

"My late husband, he bought at a yard sale a set of three rings, one made of gold and the other two made of blessed silver. One when worn had the power to transmigrate the wearer's mind, as memories, and total thoughts to any other living thing. The mental abilities of the previous soul in the body would pass into the body that wore the ring. This is the ring which you had on your pinky and was stolen from the set five years ago."

"That tells me how I'm a pony but who, was, is Frank?" again asked Charlie.

Mrs. Randolph eyes looked down and she began to say, "Frank was my lover some years back, and as he and I were together, physically, we got caught by my husband Lakota, finding us as we made love one night a long time ago, we here in this old smoke house. Lakota heard our moans and knew that I was having a affair with one of his ranch hands, Frank.

Lakota donned one of the other rings, a total transformation ring and came back to where we were involved with our sexual play. I remember to this day when Lakota entered the building and stood with the ring on his hand held high and spoke those terrible words. Suddenly my body was as engulfed by pain. My vagina screamed of horrid pressure like nothing I had felt, or enjoyed before.

I looked at Frank to see him change from the nice man into being a Dun colored Icelandic stallion pony. I remember screaming at his change and continued to scream as I had his huge pony cock then stuffed up, inside my very human vagina.

Lakota planned his curse well as he knew the many breeds of ponies. An Icelandic pony has genitals similar a Zebra. In his curse that changed Frank to being a pony, he added one proviso clause, as made it impossible for Frank to transform back to being his human self, if he traveled to Iceland and was a pony there for one week.

Can you imagine the cost and red tape to send a living animal to Iceland?

When finally Frank ceased his cum flow into me, and stepped away, my husband Lakota led him to the pasture and cursed him a second time to mount and mate only with born animals from then on!"

"OK so now I'm the Icelandic stallion, does that mean your Frank is inside my body?" asked Charles.

Mrs. Randolph, her eyes then brightened and she began to smile, "Yes he is, he is in your body and must be reeling with terror by now!"

"Terror, my body was not all that bad looking!

Oh true to say I had a case of Dunlap disease, but other than..." Charles stopped as Mrs. Randolph asked a serious sounding question, "A Disease, what is Dunlap disease," she asked being almost in tears.

I then laughed, and said, "Charlie had a spare tire around his middle, he was pleasingly plump."

Charlie then asked, "So may I ask a question of you?

This Icelandic stallion body, how old is it, and how long do I have to live?" asked Charlie, he sounding worried.

Mrs. Randolph smiled, "Frank became as if a mature two year old pony, just six years ago. Lakota cursed him to be a stallion for 100 years that gives you 92 years to be at stud. If you don't mind being a stallion pony at stud, because from how Frank enjoyed life, in my opinion he thought of it to be a fun life!"

Charlie stood quiet for several minutes until he had another question, "Ok then if I am the prime stallion and the other's out there are mares, were any of them human before?"

"My Husband was in his mind the great lover of young girls! He would beckon girls who were pretty to come here and ride the ponies or just come when I was away. I knew he was unfaithful too, but my love for him had long since dwindled.

Frank was to me the lusty lover I so enjoyed.

Yet Lakota would make love until the girl would come to him and tell of her being with child. Then that monster would make his girlfriend become a pony mare for life. Her unborn child was born a foal to build his herd. Over the years, many girlfriends were sold, they as breeding mares to other farms all around the states.

Lakota got himself stone drunk one night and got it in his head to curse another of his young lovers. He was so drunk that he got mixed up with his wording of the curse, and used his own name. He made of himself a fat pony mare, for which I sold her to the Marquette Slaughterhouse, to become dog food," Mrs. Randolph explained.

Mrs. Randolph took hold of Charlie by the reins and led him back toward his herd. "Now my friend, you are free to live your 92 years at stud, or if you ask, I will sell you to a bigger farm. Now go and enjoy, learn to graze and find your new life as a fine stallion and feel free to show your stallion passions!"

Charlie took his cue, and dashed off at a gallop, he probably wanted to mingle with his harem of 30 horny mares.

Mrs. Randolph turned to look at me, as she said, "You know and understand too much now, and that makes you as a dangerous individual, any suggestions as what I should do with you, as to guarantee your continued silence?"

"What, as you do to me, why do anything at all, why the rush. Hear me, if you place a spell or curse on me, as example if I were to speak your name, or make mention of the Double RR Ranch, then let your devils do their thing. I give my promise as not to tell anybody about Charlie, Frank, or you; besides, who would believe such a story!"

Two years later and a sexual fun fantasy story surfaced on an Internet site, James, the ex-partner with Charlie thought nobody up north would ever know, except him; he was in error.

https://www.sofurry.com/view/1254148 [b/]

**"So sorry there James, but you wrote a fun fantasy story about us, and it invoked

my curse upon you, so be a good Bull, you will live longer then as a herd sire!"**

Art/photo use authorized by: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/minotor61/