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The waiting, made me nervous, causing further need to masturbate. Then the hunger struck, urging me to forage, but of what, as I kept no houseplants; the thought of eating such made me shiver. Equines eat grass, hay, and grain... why not Cheerios!

I trotted to the kitchen and opened the cupboard door to where I kept breakfast foods, oatmeal, malt-o-meal, and various cereals. I grabbed at with already stiffening fingers, the family size box of Melville honey-nut cheerios.

Next, I turned to get a cereal bowl, but the mere size of it, I knew immediately of it being too small for my appetite. Instead, I took hold of a larger size serving bowl, it three times bigger, and more equal to my sensed hunger. As I tipped it up high, the cereal box, what came out was barely enough to filling the bowl as half-full.

"Damn it I'm hungry," I grumbled!

A check of the pantry closet offered the finding of four full boxes of the honey-nut cereal.

"In luck," I muttered with a satisfied grin.

Taking hold of a unopened, full box, I trotted to my kitchen table and tore open the box to seeing a heat pressed, closed, interior plastic bag. Instantly, I realized that my changing hands could in no way operate a scissors to cut the plastic bag. Feeling miffed, I thought to use my new incisor equine teeth to ripe open the cereal bag.

Grabbing the bag from inside the box, I gnashed my teeth at it in a brutal, beastly hungered passion, and burst the bag, spilling the contents all around me on the kitchen floor. Amazed, I leaned forward and making good use of by then thicker, rather muscular lips of my muzzle, I began practicing the art of grazing. Happy munching of the oat cereal, my hunger ravished self quickly ate what had spilled, and I turned next to devouring what I had poured into the vegetable bowl.

Still hungry, I returned to the kitchen pantry closet and with by then quite stiff as gnarled hands, did proceed to knock from the shelf, three boxes more of that same oat cereal. Fore-hoofs tore open the cereal boxes, as my incisor teeth ripped open the interior plastic bag; scattering the tasty food across the kitchen floor.

Sometime later, my famished feelings felt quelled, and I ignored the ripped boxes, and torn bags lying around on the kitchen floor. Any concept of appreciation for cleanliness had faded; my animal self was taking control. Although from having eaten, I felt happily satisfied, feeling my masculine response to any manner of pleasure, my cock began to unfurl.

Thirst then began to being a bothered urge. Water, I knew from my sordid human past, of where in the kitchen was a faucet. Again a fore-hoof proved capable of tilting the faucet joystick handle, offering a continuous stream of cold well water. Tongue lapping did poorly at satisfying my thirst; I had need of a trough, as happened then the thought to use a toilet bowl to get my drink. The kitchen half bath had a toilet and luckily, I had left the bowl lid as still open for quick use. Dunking my muzzle, this almost equine zebra began sucking up the water; as making use of a left fore-hoof, to replenish the water by pressing down the flush handle aside the toilet tank. Any thought as to hygiene from drinking out of a toilet bowl had faded.

Suddenly, the urge in me then was to drain a full bladder, and I felt my cock begin to unfurl, hanging slightly bloating, though limp.

"Here, now, make a mess, hell why not, my house is the same as a barn," I thought to say, but heard only my odd, oral, partially worded mumbling sounds and a snort.

Moments later, as I stood there in my kitchen, took a half stride forward, lengthening my manner of on all fours stance, and let go the flow. I was rather amazed by the hefty stream of dark yellow urine that roared out my limp cock, causing a river of urine that followed along an uneven floor; as drained away into a floor set cold air ventilation pipe.

"Huh, as my zebra piss should change the color and smell of the furnace air filters!"

The sound of a motor starting turned my attention to the kitchen door, only to see my ranch manager driving away at the end of his shift.

"He's gone home, the ranch is all mine for the taking, and now for Gale," I stirred a erotic thought to give me pleasure, and another stiffening of my cock to being at full-flag ready to mate.

Turning my bulkier self, my hoofs slipped unsightly in the spent urine, as of some like still there on the kitchen floor. A quick regaining of my stance and composure, a short trot brought me to the kitchen service door, it closed, the knob locked, and held me trapped.

Highly angered, I screamed my frustration with a very Zebra sounding bray.

"Oh Harold, you are losing control," I thought then rather than try to say through a mouth, as tongue and lips what were not capable of speaking with normal affluence. I brayed my love call so loud it seemed to echo throughout the whole house. My sense of anger at having locked the door in fear that my ranch foreman might walk inside, and then see the new me.

Slowly, my fit of anger calmed and focused all what I had of intelligence; my locking with strong equine lips onto the door bolt lock latch as I gave it a twist of my head. Luckily, the latch turned and that big bolt slid free. My next problem was the doorknob lock, it small and inset slightly; quite improbable that my strong lips could grasp it, or rotate it.

Cocking my head to the left, I eyed the small turn tab, thinking as to enveloping the doorknob with my strong lips. Meanwhile training my equine incisor teeth to tenderly close tight, holding the tab. Low-and-behold, the tight grip of my teeth turned the tab, unlocking the door, as my stronger lips also twisting the doorknob, worked at releasing as opened the door. As the door swung open and I felt aroused from glee anew problem stood in my way, it the outside aluminum screen door.

My seeing there the aluminum door, I sighed, but the sigh resounded out of my mouth as almost a bray. As then I remembered, that the wind from a thunderstorm had caught and slightly bent the door. I had asked my ranch foreman to have it fixed, but with all he does, he hadn't the right time to fixing the door.

So, and using my head for other that thought processes, I butted the screen door with my forehead and it unlatched with ease. I felt wonderfully elated and charged out from my house, running virtually at a galloping motion, heading toward the stables and my meeting there with Gale.

"Gale, Gale, Gale, Gale," I said mentally as charged toward the stables.

When I entered the foyer area, where we brought a horse to saddling them, I met there another door closed, setting between Gale and me. Twin doors actually, locked from the outside only by a blackened steel latch what was an easy bump of my muzzle to opening of it. Me feeling ever so triumphant at that moment, my limply aroused cock swaying with each stepped stride taken as I entered the stables. I then brayed my greetings to all; but especially to Gale, not that by seeing me then bodily I resembled at all the man she might recognize as her owner.

As recalling that meeting well enough, what was of me resembled a creature of mostly equine zebra, and various appendages, my arms, partially transformed hands to being hoofs, and my head with a short neck. I trotted up to and stood behind Gale my then beautiful jennet Mule. She to me then was more a lover; even if she, being born a mule animal saw me as an unworthy mate. A foolish act of getting behind a feisty mule or any equine, as their usual manner to defense is to giving a mighty high kick with those powerful hind legs and hard hoofs.

My dearest as usually kindly Gale lowered her head, laid her ears as flat, and summarily kicked up her hind legs to knocking me falling onto my right side. "Oh but that kick did hurt," as I loudly brayed, but quickly rose back up to aggressively plant my muzzle snug to her black, leathery, weather worn vulva.

I snorted a harsh blast of breath, and then inhaling her scent did wonders at changing her feminine attitude about me as a likely suitor. As from having watched many a horse breeding episodes, my next move was to lick and delve my tongue over, and then inside her black folds.

Gale raised her tail as off to her right side, allowing me a fuller view of what part of her I urgently felt a close relationship and need. Further snorts and sniffing followed, as Gale calmed greatly, and I gained in prominence. As hoofed hands caressed Gale's rump, I rose slowly, and with equine libido raised and positioned my stiff cock for its parting her sexual gates into hellish lust.

Gale jumped at the eased insertion of my bloated cockhead, the sensation felt just as wild for me. I was and remembered then before Sam inoculated me an aged man over seventy years. The Reformation Serums in me were honestly rejuvenating me bodily; as I stood relishing having sex with a born animal.

Gasping brays came out of me, as from fold and long past memories of my wife I compared to how Gale, her vagina muscles did grip my cock; me then thrusting, surging deeper, and lustily enjoying the depth my cock slid. My pelvis actions were not a smooth rhythm by any means, but the length and primal contour of my cock's distal head felt brutal and delightful.

Zebra youth coupled with a changing human intellect governed that mating fun. What was fun for me held a wondering if Gale also related to the pleasuring of my passionate moves and being manly I stayed at thrusting mode far longer, than likely any male suitor she let mate. When my clenching sensations came from those big balls, I brayed again, feeling the stout streams of my semen roar out the open end of a cock I was proud to have as mine. Oh yes it hurt, but in a pleasurable way; as if from the mating my life gained more meaning.

I stood leaning over the rump and back of my Mule, and felt a wondrous sense of appreciation. She, Gale had or did allow a stallion to practice his mating skill, as if she knew her body was sterile. Like my Mule from the elapsed time I took thrusting, enjoying what for an old man had become an impossible act of dire pleasure. I owed my friend Sam much for what his Reformation Serum did to rejuvenating my genitals, enhancing them greatly. I stood humped over Gale and slowly continuing my cock thrusts; while benefiting physically, strengthening my changing self.

Chucking silently my thoughts wandered while enjoying of my pack mule gale and her female functionality, as friend Sam and his sales pitch questioning of a person having an animal fantasy; gained another pompous fool for to experiment. "Yes," I did get a thrill from when visiting some zoo, seeing the several Zebras there in a large pen. As yes, I stood and stared when a stallion zebra did sniff the rear of a mare, and from sniffing, he gained a sleek, long, erect cock, having the most morbid shaped end tended to remind me of a toilet plunger.

The zoo provided a park bench for old people to relax from their need to walking of fair distances within the zoo. That park bench set but ten feet the outside of a common cattle fence, a place where the zebras gathered near a watering trough. Oh but that stallion seemed to enjoy sporting his erection, as if to demonstrate for the sexual or erotic desires of they watching as to see his masculinity. Teenage girls there knelt low as close to the fence; some with their camera snapping pictures. I sat and calmly watched one girl reach her arm and hand to touching, give the Zebra stallion's cock a stroking. I noted the stallion turning his head to looking, and reacted with a casual sidestep, allowing for the girl too not need reaching so far through the fence.

Horny remembrances all mine, of then an old man beginning to regain the stimulating pleasures of those as still young!

I heard then the sounds of a vehicle outside on the gravel driveway, it creaking to a stop.