Anxious whinnies and snorting seems to cloud the issue, you want her to know this is you, but her sexual sensations from you are messing up her train of thought.
Memories of one summer day as you sat under a tree in the pasture there on Uncle’s farm. Vivid memories of the pony grazing, seemingly he was enjoying it as hung from his sheath was a flaccidly erect pony penis, one exactly as what you sport.
Your own memories seem to be getting some strange invasions of lurid memories only Mike the pony might have had, seen, and enjoyed. You can almost visualize the black winking lips of a needy mare; Mike would get quite close to them at those times, maybe he was nearsighted?
Other thoughts come up as if your memories but being nothing you would fear or be afraid because you are a learned and rational being. Mike was a nice pal for summer times, although he ran on instincts and learned patterns of actions and reactions to whatever stimulated his senses.
Dearest below you is trying to unplug her from you and your flared prong stuck between and behind her tight vaginal lips.
Letting out a horsy laugh, you think about this all and the fact you have a pony cock and its so neatly tucked into dearest, the want to remove it seems foolhardy. A gaze back along the furry pony torso grants the sight of how your pony hind legs are extended out back and long, letting your groin dip and the male shaft then remain where you find it quite the thrill.
In you mind you should be horrified at the likeliness of having to be as this stallion pony for as long as you might live. The worry over this happening is all but faded away, and considering your blend of memories from what was you and of what Mike did and had, was fast merging and helping to quell any reason for wanting to be other than a Shetland pony stallion and a stud!
Gazing about, you happen to note the amulet and its timer. The numbers shown on it are not as an allotment of time, but marks as if in years, it reads then as 2039.
The year 2039…it is 2008 presently, if it has anything to do with you staying like this, being a pony stallion, then for the next thirty-one years you will assuredly get used to being a pony!
Your dearest takes note of what you are eying, she squirms her full torso up further toward the headboard, she trying to reach for the amulet where it sat on the window ledge behind your bed. Her stretching helps to dislodge your still aroused but flaccidly so pecker from it remaining inside her body. Your pony pecker swings and sway freely, the movement only rein stills the thing to begin stiffening, as if it has a mind of its own as to what it will and or can do.
The feeling of having joined into the realm of ponydom is fast removing all inclination for wanting to be again human. You consider while watching dearest as she tries to pickup the amulet, thinking that being a pony you are completely self sufficient, needing grass to eat and only water to drink. The human platitudes and such things as money and possessions are as if unnecessary things to a pony.
“What, no dearest no, please be careful handling the amulet,” you think seeing she picked up and was fingering it. When to her surprise and your temporary horrification, the numbers begin moving, adding years, decades to the length of time you as a Shetland pony stud will walk the earth.
In big flashing red numbers, the amulet foretells of the year in which you shall die a pony like death. Stunned in your degrading mental abilities, it read then as 2114, and thus arranged for you to live then as a pony stallion some 106 years.