About midmorning that Friday, a truck pulled up to Tony Farms with a pony transport on the back. It was essentially a foreshortened horse trailer, and Max smiled as his new ranch hands directed the truck around to the barn. He strode up to it, putting his fingers in his belt loops - an affectation he'd seen some of the ranch hands using and had adopted as a way of fitting in with them; Max felt he needed to be willing to lead his team with the same caring-first attitude that he was training his ponies, and that involved making them feel he was one of them.
That was not to say he'd be following their trends uncritically, Max thought firmly. He still only had a skeleton crew, and that was intentional. The interview process he'd subjected these few men and women to was grueling - an inquisition, almost. Max demanded that his ranch hands and trainers all have his same philosophy of pony training. Tony was both his brother and his pony, and rather than one or the other becoming more important, Max was simply doubly protective of Tony. And Roger too, for that matter - as Max's friend and Tony's lover, as well as his second pony. For that matter, Max intended to be just that protective and caring, firm but fair, with the rest of his herd.
Any would-be ranch hand that had difficulty understanding that concept during the interview was told curtly that they shouldn't call Tony Farms, Tony Farms would call them. That is to say: get the hell out of Max's office, please.
So when two ranch hands opened the pony hauler, Tony was greeted by friendly faces.
"Well hello there!" said the first, a beefy young white man with a thick Kentucky accent. "Y'all must be Tony. You look like you've had a fine ol' time at the clinic, now ain't ya, boy?" he continued, helping Tony down from the trailer with a firm, controlling grip, but without manhandling. Tony was impressed - this guy was treating him with respect, yes, but making no bones about the fact that Tony was, bluntly, under his control. It was a delicate balance, expertly struck, and Tony felt his horsecock twitch.
"Yeah, I'm Tony. You must be one of Max's new hands?"
"Sure am! I'm Bob Lindorf, and my friend here," he said, gesturing to the competent looking Latina woman shutting up the hauler now that Tony was out of it, "Is Liz Delacruz. I'm your new Barn Manager, and Liz is the Chief Race Trainer."
Liz snorted.
"Chief, he says. I'm not Chief until I've got underlings - right now I'm the *only* Race Trainer." She said, looking Tony up and down. "You and I are gonna be working together a lot, Tony. You're frankly a bit beefy for a racer already, but I'll get you up to professional grade."
She offered him something suddenly, and Tony grinned: a sugar cube. He leaned over her hand and took it with his lips, winking at her. She smirked, but nodded.
"That was a little test. I always like to check my volunteer ponyboys for how equine they are."
Tony grinned, chewing on his sugar.
"Oh? How'd I do?"
"I'd say you're a full-on horse in human shape and enjoying every minute of it."
Tony cackled, which sounded more like a wicker at this point, and nodded.
"You got it!"
Liz went back to her other work, and Bob led Tony into the barn to his stall, one hand firmly on his shoulder at all times.
"You know," Tony said, "I know where it is."
Bob squeezed Tony's shoulder firmly, shaking his head, but his smile never wavered.
"No siree, little pony. Not yet, anyway. You've got a special relationship with Bossman, which is just fine - I don't know any ranch that don't have one or two prize horses that get treated a little different. But you and me just met, so we need to establish now how this is gonna work."
He opened Tony's stall door and gently pushed him in, before closing the door again and leaning against it amiably.
"You signed up to be an animal. A mostly human animal, sure, and I've got no trouble treatin' ya like that for the most part. But whereas you're *mostly* human, I'm all human. And your brother's hired me to run this barn, and I'm gonna have all sorts of ponies - and natural horses too, I might add - in here that I need to wrangle. You're the boss's first pony, so they'll look to you for leadership."
Bob grinned.
"So I'm gonna expect you to follow my lead - If I start treating you like more of an animal, I expect you to obey without hesitation just like you was a normal pony. Contrariwise, if I start talking to you more like a coworker, I'm gonna expect you to dial back that subby attitude that got you in this stall in the first place."
Tony flushed.
"Subby attitude? What did Max-"
"Max didn't say a word, but a volunteer who also ends up taking a little breeder program on the side? Tweren't hard ta figure."
Tony couldn't help but chuckle.
"Point taken. So, you were saying?"
"Right. As the first pony of the barn, you're kinda the barn manager's stalking horse. The herd will figure how you act is normal. So, if you act more like an animal when I treat you more like one..."
Tony nodded as he caught on.
"Then the herd will also be more docile when you need them to be."
Bob beamed.
"Good pony! Right you are! And when you act like it's all collegial like in here, they'll cotton on that they need to be a bit more on that ball, too."
Tony nodded; he found he liked Bob and his honesty, not to mention his quiet air of dominance without strutting. A thought niggled at him.
"Lindorf...Lindorf...Where have I heard that before?"
"Lindorf Farms, the most prestigious of the Kentucky horse racing families in the last few decades. Bob brings with him generations of experience working with natural horses, some interesting new ideas for ponyboy training, and a promise of a lucrative partnership with his father down the line," said Max, as he entered the barn. Tony practically bounced.
"Max! Max! Come see how I look, come see!!!"
Max chuckled, motioning to Bob to open the stall door again, which was done obligingly.
"You're worse than a kid. Leave it open, Bob, now that you've had your heart to heart. I've got him from here."
Bob nodded amiably and went about his own duties.
Max gestured for Tony to trot out into the room.
"Alright, Tony, let's have a look at you."
Tony, feeling giddy, pranced about the room, showing off his new form. His ears were tall, pointy, not quite to the top of his head but near it, perfectly halfway between horse and human. His tail, fully formed, swished behind him, flashing a much more horselike backside - including the much-expanded asshole that Roger would be making such good use of. Tony wickered again, flexing his muscles, still enamored of the way they bulged and flowed under his horsehide. Max came up at the end and stroked the pony's flank gently.
"So Dad's basically bowed to the inevitable and all but sworn to never come to the farm, and a good thing too: seeing you this horselike might give the old man an aneurysm," he said with a chuckle.
Tony snorted, stamping a hoof - his feet had been reshaped, and it was no longer a shoe, but a genuine hoof, albeit specifically designed for bipedal speed and so slightly different from a horse hoof.
"He can stay away, then. I've never been happier, and I won't have him ruining my mood just because he wanted two human sons!"
Max gave Tony a mild look, and Tony blushed.
"Oh, er, I mean...I guess I don't get a say in the matter."
"You don't, technically. However I also don't want him ruining your mood, so just watch your language and remember who does - and who does not - make the decisions around here."
"Yes, master," Tony said with audible satisfaction.
After a few more moments of Max examining him - including a moment of unprecedented thrill when, upon examining Tony's new hooves, Max had declared he'd need to see the farrier and be shod like a normal horse - Tony's brow suddenly furrowed.
"Wait, where is Roger???"
Max chuckled, patting Tony's flank.
"Easy boy, your stud will be here soon. His treatment and yours didn't quite sync up, timewise, and he won't be out here until this afternoon. I decided to pay the little bit extra to have you shipped back first instead of loading you both in the same hauler."
Tony pouted.
"Why not?"
"Because I didn't want the first time I examined your new form to be marred by an extended belly."
Tony's ears flicked in confusion.
"Extended belly...?"
Max smirked.
"From him loading you full of cum on the way home."
Tony flushed, but grinned.
"Fiiine, master, I guess you're right."
"Of course I am."
Bob poked his head back into the barn at that moment.
"Cooee! Hate to eavesdrop, but, speak of the devil, we got a new trailer here were just unloaded. Maybe y'all wanna take a look?"
Tony grinned at his brother, who nodded indulgently.
"Go on, go see."
Tony clapped, and then began rushing for the yard, skidding to a stop at the door. He felt lightheaded, suddenly, his slightly wider nostrils flaring. He could smell...something. It smelled like horse, like sweat, like...sex. And it smelt like...
"...Roger..."
Bob opened the door then, and there he was. Roger was a foot and a half taller than Tony. His build was more like a Clydesdale than the Thoroughbred Tony. His ears were longer, more horselike, and his horsehide was a deeper chestnut. His body was covered in rippling muscle. His hooves looked almost exactly like a real horse's, not reshaped for speed like Tony's. Even his fingernails were thick and hoof-like. His nose was broader, nostrils flaring; his teeth were bigger, broader, more equine.
And his cock, over two softball testicles, was as long and as thick as Tony's forearm. Tony's jaw dropped open, and Roger stepped forward, snorting, his prodigious cock stirring to attention.
"Hey there, little filly," he said in a voice that was still clearly Roger, although a bit deeper. "Why don't I help you relax before the race...?"
Tony gawked, his own cock springing to full mast, and his asshole suddenly flexing, to Max's apparent amusement behind him.
"Alright, glad to see you both approve of each other. I'm feeling generous - which do you want to do first, talk and catch up like civilized people, or..." Max paused, grinning, as he watched his brother physically struggle to look at him rather than Roger's expanding cock.
"Or, I could have Tony strapped into the breeding chute and let Roger work out his stiffness from travel."
Roger just folded his massive arms and grinned, and Tony lost the battle to not stare at his lover. Finally, he choked out a response.
"I'm...good for whatever..."
Max smirked, turning to Roger.
"Oh, well, boss, I'm just a breeding stud, I don't really have opinions," he said sarcastically.
"Right you are, then. Bob! Get my mare of a brother and strap him into the chute!"