Marg ran until her pony legs became weary. She regained some sense of her dignity, having felt Jasper touching in a decidedly animal sexual manner. She held her church minister in great respect, especially from the recent happenings and the accursed situation her family was dealing with, husband and son dehumanized!
Stopping to where she could get a drink or refreshing water, Marg looked down at her reflection in the water and saw then her as if Tilda, or she being a double of the dead mare. The clear slow flowing water reflected back at Marg the bodily contours she never paid much attention of, as the breeding stock was what her son and husband took care of about the farm.
A whinny from Marg as her response for seeing her strong but flat chest, and after a side-step of her rear to the water, she saw her mare udder and two small teats.
“Why did this happen to me,” Marg stood by the stream and began to ask herself questions.
“Jared and his lucky coin started the downfall of our family, he believing in superstition rather than the teachings of the church. As from this and what I am tells me that real powers rules in heaven, and the devils reside in Hell. That devil in our barn, he is somehow connected to the luck coin, that Medallion!” Marg grumbling as she continued to think and recall, wanting to have a plan where she could return home and not get mated by Jasper, or as doomed and damned to living her life then as a pony mare.
The buzzing sounds of insects, flies were congregating all around Marg. “What with the bugs, I haven’t urinated or dropped a flop, so what are they after?” The creepy sensation came from the feel of a fly tracing, rimming a path as encircling her equine pucker anus was reason enough for swishing her tail. Her human awareness and mentality found the light tickle of the fly as sensuous, and the coarse hairs of her tail swishing was different, but equally sensual.
A dip of the head and after a second long drink, Marg began to walk as wander, she not having a home or stall to call her own. Feeling exasperated by her situation she felt the urge to lift her head high and scream a shrill, pony style whinny.
“Oh Robert, you are doomed as me, maybe made worse now that you became a mare and not a stallion, you can’t understand all of what you feel.” Marg lamented, as she walked away from the stream. She raised her head and tried to see their farm, but she had run as a scared pony, thinking as how close Dolthan had come and tried to cause her to be for him as his jennet donkey mate.
Marg felt an urge to think as reconsider her present self and situation, wondering if she were better being a pony mare or as a jennet donkey. Her reasoning for thinking about such a perverse possible choice, began due to what she felt when Dolthan's donkey cock had reawakened her femininity. Marg had to admit she enjoyed the resurging of passion, as she took to liking the feel of a large and long cock sunk deep inside her sex.
“Margery, you are thinking weird as wrongful ideas about Dolthan and his cock, and what Robert had, he being as loving and tend, where Dolthan was a uncaring brute.” She had nobody to argue with except herself, and part of she could not deny was of being a mare.
It so happened about then that her mare bladder decided enough was enough and sent a mental message to stop walking, lift the tail and let go a flood on some unsuspecting anthill. Marg felt rather odd and her sense of humility as if being tested. Although there was not a sole animal in sight, as she stood like a mare pissing, Marg felt like she wanted to cry.