Circe continued on her walk around the island, hankering to find someone else to transform. She looked around at all her new guests wandering about her island, completely unaware of her abilities as a sorcerer. Still, she was finding herself plagued by indecision. Who to change next and what to change them into?
Her question was answered when she saw Quentin walking down the hill from the guest quarters towards her. He looked concerned as the two met halfway.
"Good evening Quentin, is everything satisfactory?" asked Circe.
Quentin nodded, "Yes, thank you. I was just wondering if there was a phone or radio on the island. I really need to contact my fiance. We're supposed to be getting married soon..."
"Ah, yes, I'm afraid we don't. We're completely cut off."
Quentin started to look more worried. "So there's no way to contact the outside world at all?"
"No, my dear, I'm afraid not." Circe started to walk around the anxious man, checking out his fine physical form. "You know, you really are a very fit young man."
"What?" Quentin looked at Circe, still trying to process what was happening.
"I'm afraid no one leaves my island dear."
"Wha...what are you talking about?" Quentin's voice wavered. "Please, I just want to get home to my fiance."
"Oh, that is quite impossible."
Quentin began to beg. "Please, there has to be something. A supply ship...something..."
"No one comes here. No intentionally." Circe gave him a smile. "But don't despair, there's a great life for you here. My island is paradise."
"This is nuts," whispered Quentin.
"My, you really are quite the stud. You know, I think you would make a great match for a new mare I just acquired. Yes, I think that will do indeed." Circe smiled as she weaved her spell. Before Quentin knew what was happening, the transformation already had begun.
"What is happening..." Quentin's voice began to shake as the transformation began. He watched in horror as his hands balled up and reformed into front hooves. Brown fur began to grow over his arms and up them as he cried out again. He looked down and watched as his sneakers tore apart as his feet grew and reformed into large hooves as well. He looked back to Circe. "Please no..."
Circe watched with a smile on her face as the transformation rapidly overtook poor Quentin. His body mass grew and reformed to equine proportions as his jeans and t-shirt ripped apart and fell off as his frame grew and changed. He struggled to talk as his neck grew out and his face pushed out into an equine snout. A long, flowing black mane grew out along with a tail to match. Quentin reared up and let out a loud whinny of protest.
"There, there. It's going to be okay. You're going to come to love your new life and I promise my handmaidens will take very good care of you. I think you'll be happy with Monica too..." said Circe in a soothing voice. Quentin dropped to all fours and relaxed, starting to accept his fate.
Circe watched as two of her handmaidens came to lead Quentin to the pasture to join Monica. As they walked away, she turned her attention back to the guest quarters. Who to change next and what to change them into, she wondered. She walked up the hill trying to decide.