Mike extended his arms and flexed his fingers, admiring the solid black skin and nails. "You really managed a lot of change! Guess you have more stable magic than you thought."
Brian was gathering some grooming tools and grinned back at the centaur. "Yeah! The longer I work on you, the easier it gets. It's like I am remembering how to do all this." Then a frown crossed the boy's face and he stopped and looked concerned. "Mike, are you sure you want to go through with this? It's really hard for me to resist, and with you being so willing, I'm pretty sure you will end up a real horse this time, and I'll pretty much be a stable boy. And I don't think Tye will change you back." He looked down at the brushes and combs and then gave Mike a sheepish smile. "I really don't want to be changed back, or go on the stupid adventure. But I still mostly think of you as a friend from our real lives. Well, maybe not mostly any more. I see the Shire now, but I know we were friends. It's not to late to run back to the group and be a black centaur."
Mike regarded his friend for a long minute, then smiled. "Come here. Bring your stuff."
The boy entered the stall and set down the tools, except for a polished black brush that looked familiar. He looked nervous and excited, obviously torn. Mike felt much the same way, scared about what he wanted to do, yet resolved to see it through. The centaur flexed his fingers for the last time, and then said "Hold the brush up."
Brian did as instructed, and Mike could see a faint blue-white glow of magic around the bristles. He took a deep breath, and then reached down and wrapped his hands around the bottom and sides of the brush. The warmth and dull throbbing was powerful, but not unpleasant, and he watched as magic began to work. It was much faster than what Brian had been able to do on his own. Instead of nearly an hour of slow progress, Mike's fingers melted away like candle wax, his arms getting thinner and shorter. Brian moved forward as they dwindled, keeping the brush in contact until the stick-like appendages could no longer touch. Looking almost dazed, Brian used the brush to remove even those traces, until Mike had only a smooth human torso and neck.
"There!" Mike shivered in nervousness or excitement - maybe both. "Now I might as well be a horse. No arms or hands."
Brian stared up at him for a moment, and then grinned broadly. "Right! You'll make a magnificent warhorse!" Something in his eyes shifted, and Mike understood that Brian now saw him as a beast, not a friend. The former elf had taken the last step to becoming Llandros' stableboy.
Any hesitation Brian might have had before was gone. He pulled box over to stand on, and began sliding the bristles over Mike's human belly and chest. "That's a good fella." He patted Mike's side even as it sprouted glossy black fur. The animal control spells drifted over Mike's mind, gaining strength as his transformation continued. Calm. Content. For a moment, he thought he might be shrinking, for the sides of the stall appeared to rise up around him. Then he realized it was his human torso being reshaped into a shorter equine neck, ribs vanishing, chest collapsing, and shoulders sinking inward.
"When we're all done, I'm going to breed you with the Shire mare. Maybe more than once. You'll like that. And it will help clear your brain of centaur thoughts." Brian worked quickly now, the bristles puling through midnight horse horse hide that extended up the sides of Mike's face and head.
"I don't want to forget who I am!" Mike felt a surge of alarm, but the magic tamped it down to mild concern.
"That's silly." Brian chuckled as he started to slide the brush under and around Mike's chin and cheeks. "What good is it to remember having hands or a voice? Nah, I will replace all that useless stuff with memories of fields and mares and lots and lots of training as a warhorse. And by this time tomorrow, you'll be the most sought-after mount in the entire kingdom!"
"But I don't whhaaant u eee aa..." The rest of Mike's protest dissolved into a spluttered whicker as his face pushed out into a muzzle. His sudden fear was so strong that he almost managed to resist the animal control spells, but the final changes to his head also increased their power over him. He shivered slightly, the only outward indication of his inner panic, even that becoming dulled. It was getting hard to be scared, to remember why he was afraid.
Vision split and expanded, also losing color and some definition. It was as if he had blown up a picture on a computer too big. What was a computer? What was a picture?
"There, there, fella. Almost done." Brian's tone was cheerful and soothing as he ran the brush over Mike's skull, making it broader and flatter. "Beautiful boy. Handsome boy."
And he was a beautiful, handsome horse. Mike knew that, knew even as the last traces of centaur vanished under Brian's brush. He was a solid black Shire stallion. It was a simple fact, like water was wet and fire was hot. Mike knew he had been transformed, that he had not always been a horse. But that was of no importance. He was a horse now, and that would not change. So he felt no alarm when he realized that Brian was still running the brush over his skull, the magic sinking deeper, twisting memories. The smiling face of his mother blurred and then became a powerful mare, his youth growing up as a boy beginning to be replaced with memories of fields and foals. And the useless knowledge of English and math was rapidly being replaced with far more valuable training carrying men in armor, charging, following commands of knees and reins and voice, becoming an extension of his rider.
"Hold!" A familiar voice startled him and Brian. Llandros was watching from outside the stall. The Wizard looked over Mike with obvious approval, and then grinned at Brian. "A fine job, boy. But let's let him keep as much intelligence as he has left. Just the training. If he proves troublesome, you can always finish his mind out to full horse."
"Yes, master!" From the adoration in Brian's voice, Llandros' praise had been better than gold. "Should I still breed him after?"
Llandros nodded. "Of course. It is the best way to seal a transformation. Complete the training and then put him in with his mare. You can enourage them. We'll check him out in the morning and make any adjustments required." He grinned at Mike. "I doubt we will need any. I've had very few willing volunteers in my life, but they all made the finest animals imaginable."
The wizard left, and Brian went back to work. "OK! We'll try to keep some of your smarts, fella. Just the training. You are a warhorse. My beautiful black warhorse."
Mike felt his anxiety fade. Of course he was a warhorse. The memories of training under saddle, being shaped into the perfect fighting mount settled in his mind, first displacing various knowledge from his human past, then merging with his very being so that they were real. By the time Brian finally slid off his back and put the brushes away, Mike knew he was a warhorse down to the instinctual level, ready and willing to charge into battle, oblivious of danger, barely able to conceive of such an abstract thing as death, much less worry about it. Yet the very fact that he was aware of training, of being changed was proof he still had some of Mike left.
"OK, fella. Let's get you set up for a fun night." Brian led him into the larger breeding stall, and returned a few minutes later with the magnificent and obviously in-heat Shire mare. Mike's nostrils flared, drinking in her scent, her need. The mare responded in turn, whickering and rumbling, her black cunt winking and damp.
"She's ready. Now let's encourage you just to be safe." Brian's hands slid under Mike's heavy testicles, and warmth flowed through the ballsack and made it heavier and swollen. "There you go." Brian left and shut the gate as Mike shook his hindquarters, feeling animal lust building. "See you in the morning, boy."
Mike shivered in anticipation, his massive black cock pushing out of the dark sheath. The mare lowered her head and squatted to urinate, her urine cloudy with estrogen. He snuffled the fragrant liquid, then her slick cunt. The stallion knew what to do. He would take the mare, mount her and deliver his seed as instinct demanded.
But as Mike shifted to get in position, he remembered what both Brian and Llandros had said about mating sealing the transformation. Yes, he was a Shire Warhorse now, but a small part of Mike remained. He liked having that sliver of his past identity, and sensed that it also provided some intelligence above and beyond that of even a well-trained animal. Would mounting the mare erase all that was left of Mike? He could feel the need, the pressure that demanded he mate with the female. Despite the power of the equine instincts, he had a sense that he should resist, that giving in was going to take away something important.