“Where is he,” Marg grumbled, her minister was late, it was 10:40 am and he had not arrived to the farm.
“Margery, Margery, MARGERY come hither,” Marg heard in her head the voice of the curse-host devil calling her to come to the barn and to bring with her the Medallion.
Marg obliged the devil, but she left the Medallion in the farmhouse, it lying on the fireplace mantel.
As she entered the front doors to the barn, Marg called out, “I am here at your request!”
“Margery, where is the Medallion, I requested you bring with you the Medallion,” the curse-host said, it speaking then as slowly, acting as if patient.
“We don’t need the Medallion,” Marg replied, as she wanted to take on one evil entity at a time.
“We do not, but you do, as it would be your protection from the direct curse-host, like me, as I can hear the screams of pain felt by my donkey Imp Dolthan.” The devil said, as it lurked there about inside the barn, was in constant contact, was alluring of Robert being then Roberta the pony mare of her feeling the delight of a stallion breeding with her.
“He is kept busy but the more he tries to move or break his bonds, the worse his donkey cock will feel pain.” Marg replied, as said her piece with a coy manner, acting of kind toward the devil.
“You shall learn it is not nice to taunt Mother Nature, or a devil!
A devil you should fear, and out of ignorance and ego you would bait me to ask then why fear me; because your body is mine to direct, and a flick of my pinky finger and what of you is still human I could cause a change, so when your reverend friend arrives, you can whinny your greeting, you being then a horny pony mare!” The devil taunts, as Marg waits for the blessed water to arrive.
“WHAT, NO, NO NO, wait…, neigh…!” Marge said, she pleaded but to no avail; as the devil was not such a fool.
“Humans, you thought I was preoccupied, not paying attention, well, you found out you were wrong. You have three hours and forty minutes to be an Anthropic pony mare before I close the deal and you get to join your husband, what was his name, oh yes, Roberta; nice name for a pony mare!
And the Reverend is coming, his car just made the turn onto your road. He brought two quarts of recently blessed water, but I would bet he after meeting, seeing you, and you whinny at him, he will jump in his car and flee for home.
You heard about Mister Tilman, what a stud he made, three years now a buck goat and he has sired 1,117 kids. He said he liked kids and said it often, as having heard him expound often about his adoring of kids, I coaxed him to try on the satyr costume, and he slid right down in line for a trip to Hell. And you thought Dolthan had a long cock, well Harold-goat Tilman has a sixteen incher, as he has now a herd harem and a coven of horny women to tickle his fancies!” The curse-host devil told Marg, as she stood scratching at her growing neck and a equine larynx.
“When done here I shall have three souls more for my quota, an easy as fun way for such as I to climb the ladder of success, just five more this month and I can advance my class one more rung closer to becoming a demon.”
Margery was not interested in the boosting of an aspiring devil. He had begun her neck to changing, as changed her voice to be but a shrill whinny similar to how Tilda occasionally cries her feelings.
Some power was forcing her to remain in the barn, try as she did to exit the barn she was stopped by the front doors, and could not walk outside the barn. In some ways the barn felt like a second home, and in a fading desire she wished to go help Dolthan escape her strapping tape, and let his glorious cock rut in her for three hours and forty minutes of hellish sex.
A blue Ford drove up the driveway from the rural road. Marg knew the vehicle to be that owned by her minister, and she moved to stand at center of the barn doorway, she the Anthropic essence of pony mare double of Tilda.
As the Reverend saw Margery displaying her furred naked body for him, he knew something more had happened. He came as prepared having in his hands a small box to help carry two quarts of blessed water, and lying down inside the box he had filled a squirt bottle with the blessed water. He walked toward Marg to where when he was twenty some feet away from her she did whinny a shrill cry as if to warn the man of a great impending danger.
“Really, Misses Morrison, not quite yourself today?” The Reverend said as he slowed his walking toward Marg. Ah, where is Dolthan, I have something for him and as well you!” That said and he was about four feet in front of where Marg could go no further.
“Open your mouth,” the Reverend said, and Margery wishing to obey, she showed off her equine incisors.
“Thank you, nice teeth,” the Reverend said as he continued holding the box with the two quarts of blessed water. The box and the quart Mason jars were as a ploy to distract the expected devil to thinking the quart jars were for Marg to drink from; but the whiley minister had tried this trick a few previous times, and always seemed to work well enough.
As with a quick hand move the Reverend took hold of the squirt bottle and aiming it at Marg, he squeezed the level and short a straight stream of the blessed water at, and into the wide open mouth of an Anthropic mare. The stream of water hit on target, and coated the broad tongue of an almost mare. The Revered caught the curse-host devil as watching but not ready to react. The blessed water needed but the slightest of a touch to become active against any evil.
A second shot stream went mostly inside of her mouth as Marg swallowed, and a haze aura formed around her from head to hoofs.
“Damn you,” screamed the curse-host devil, as the minister had foiled the plan of a seduction done to Marg.
The bold acting Reverend minster did walk through the devil made boundary, he passing a then changing Margery, and he walked toward where a slate gray pony mare stood beside her twin, each in their own stall. A quart Mason jar lid was unscrewed and the Reverend lifted it from out the box he was holding, and poured half into the water buckets for each pony mare. Both mares dipped their heads and drank the blessed water.
“The almighty says to Robert Morrison to rise and repent any evil that brought you to this deviled state!” The Reverend said aloud and with a bold tone of righteous indignation.
One of the mares stepped back from her stall, and turned to facing a very reverend man, a Minister who had talked about similar situations, and of how to deal with devils. As Marg couched twice to clear her throat, she began to praise her redeemer.
Meanwhile the curse-host devil was blazing hot with hatred for having his plot as spoiled.
“Hey there, you look to be as on fire,” the Reverend said and he seeing the narrow red-orange flame, he did what any righteous man would, and unscrewed the second jar of blessed water, giving it a toss of most of the contents. The water struck the flaming devil and changed his hatred into a pillar of salt.
“Margery, Robert do come to me and drink a toast to your being redeemed!” The Reverend said with a smile for a duty well done.
Marg had the first swallow of the blessed water, but due to her wild night of continued sex by Dolthan, her being redeemed would take a while longer to see her body changed. Robert had his body and life changed more quickly and by some odd fortune he as a she mare, did not have her fling with Jasper.
“Reverend, I am changing, I can speak, I can give praises!” Robert said, as his humanity was fast returning, he turned and looked toward Jasper in his box stall, and said, “Can you help my son?”