Petrified devils are not dead but held dormant, as the Reverend knew when he told Robert and Margery as not to touch the salt pillar statue of the devil there in the barn.
Robert noticed the smell of salt as nearby, and he alerted Marg of the scent as well. Although Jasper, Mildred, and Tilda did not so understand what the goodly minister said; and they smelled the salty odor. As Robert was capable to talk, he kept busy consoling his wife about her changing back to being human might take a while but it was better for her. What neither noticed was Tilda leaving her stall and meandering through and around the various objects stored there in the barn, as she worked her way closer to the salt statue.
All that the devil required to break the blessed seal upon him was the lick by a wet tongue!
Upstairs in the white farmhouse, Reverend Manson was interested with watching Dolthan as his donkey self had begun to deteriorate. He could hear and see from an upstairs window the approach of not just a dark cloud thunderstorm, but the likely onslaught of a devil legion coming toward the farm. The Reverend was wishing he had more blessed water to hurry the transition happening to Dolthan, as use it before the storm of evil would arrive.
“Oh brother,” said Reverend Manson when he turned to check on the coming storm; as suddenly where the storm was, the blue sky and sunshine reigned supreme.
“Ack, hey, hey, what is this,” Dolthan yelped from a sensation and a sensual surprise?
As the Reverend turned from looking out the bedroom window at a quickly dissipating storm, what he heard of Dolthan sound off as elated, alerted him of a worse fear.
Dolthan was sprouting dark brown fur in and around his groin as was his withered donkey cock rising high in a building erection. “Where went your power now old man?” Dolthan took his turn at chiding the minister as he had to the donkey Imp.
The Reverend stood there gawking, he mesmerized as watching Dolthan changing, but he was not regaining his status as a donkey-Imp, but seemed to be transforming in other ways, as if soon he could join the animals in the barn.
“I am changing, changing back to being a Hee-hee-haw!” Dolthan said as his voice dwindled to being a bray. His eyes widened as the rush of coarse to the touch, donkey fur did engulf his chest and back up to his neckline. He gawked when seeing his arms become a donkey forelegs, and fingers gnarl into a fist and then onto becoming as hoofs. He looked at the Reverend, Dolthan cocking his head to the left, as if a sign of a beast wondering about something odd.
A scream came from the barn as did Robert being Roberta the pony mare did race from the barn and head toward the open road. As more screams came from the barn, Reverend Manson left Dolthan to his changing into being as likely all a donkey. Marg was screaming and the Reverend knew the devil had somehow reawakened, as whoever touched the devil statue of salt would certainly be dead. He ran as fast as he could, leaving the house and going first to his car to retrieve his Bible.
He began to read of Psalm 119, with a hope of curtaining the evil hatred the curse-host devil would be doing his worst to all who Dolthan had infected. Reverend Manson had not entered the barn when out tromped a slate gray with black mane and tail, a perfect copy of what were Roberta and Tilda who did the fated lick, she lay as tossed up to the barn doorway entrance, was dead.
A weak and disheveled looking pony mare then exited the barn, it was then Margery. She lifted her head to give a dull witted look at her minister, as she lowered her head, ceased her walking, spread her hind legs, and lifted her tail to the left of her pony mare rump.
Jasper came from out of the barn he, was acting as aroused with his erect horse cock in full flared and ready to mate with any a mare.
“No, cease, come no closer to your mother,” the Reverend Manson shouted at Jasper.
“And why the Hell not, is she not now as much a willing mare. Is her tail now held high and away, are her hind legs not spread wide to hold the bulk weight of her stallion; oh but her head as hung low is a sign of being submissive,” a deep baritone sounding voice said from inside the barn.
The screaming tortured brays of one all brown donkey told of poor Dolthan having transitioned as the curse- host devil thought less of Dolthan. He had served his purpose and needed to be readied to serve in a different fashion. A scared donkey hung his big head from out the second story window as he brayed, begging for help to loosening of his scotch tape bindings.
“Shut up you fool beast,” said that same deep baritone voice said aloud from inside the barn. “My Master suggested your use for the cause was near to an end, and why let then a crisis situation slip by and not now force you to become a plain donkey?
You served well being a donkey Imp, alluring the foolish, the occasional pervert, and women, as they seeing your long cock would wish to touch it, stroke it, and mouthing it, suckling you to a climax. You were fool enough to allow the woman to doctor your legs, wrists, and cock into a hog-tight binding mess, now you get out of it, or die trying.
Marg, Margery Morrison stand where you are and let your son Jared with Jasper the stallion do as they want to mate with you; you rejuvenated from my transforming I made of you as a virgin mare!
Jasper, do as you wish to the gray mare, and know that Tilda gave her life for freeing me from what that, that minister did to defame me as a statue. As know this minister, if not for you holding a Bible, I could have resurrected Tilda by confiscating your life entity and put you inside the dead mare body, so imagine of then what it might feel being bred by stallions and/or of devils like me!
As for Mildred, she would like her son Dolthan to give her what her lame husband could not do to thrill her, he with E.D. Enough for the present, as after sundown when I can take my leave from in the shadows, some here will go ahead of me to where the heat never dulls, and the smell of burning sulfur never ceased.