"Ah, Chad, I see you've started to change. I knew you'd volunteer to
help out with this year's senior hay ride," the principal said as he
approached with a carrot in one hand and a buggy whip in the other.
You open your mouth, but only a loud whinny came out.
"Haha, oh, you will definitely make a spirited stallion. I knew you
were the one to wear that cursed - I, mean, enchanted harness."
You balance awkwardly on your hind legs. Hind legs? Your chest is
shifting and growing, and the harness seems to be stretching and
reshaping with your body. Your spine is pushing out between your butt
cheeks, and your legs are growing longer and more spindly. You topple
forward on all fours. Your fingers are fusing together. You feel your
cock and balls getting heavier, and at the same time your foreskin is
growing to your belly pulling your cock upward against your belly as
it attaches itself.
"There are two ways this can go, Chad, and it's your choice. Carrot or
stick? Literally," says the principal waving the carrot and cracking
the whip. You can smell the carrot, it's making your mouth water. Your
nostrils flare as you stare at the carrot. Your ears twitch as they
grow longer. Your nose and jaw push outward to form a muzzle as you
take on a more equine appearance. You feel long silky hairs swish
across your butt cheeks.
"You understand?" the principal says moving the carrot under your
nose.
You nod your head and greedily take a bite of carrot. Your mouth is
larger and your teeth are too. The bite takes the carrot nearly all
the way down to the stalk, and your lips brush the principal's hand.
"Be careful!" he warns dropping the carrot and wiping his slobber
covered hand on his suit. He cracks the whip menacingly.
You chew the crunchy carrot. It takes different than you expected, so
much better. It's like chocolate used to taste to you - sort of.
You hear someone else approaching the field house. Your hearing is
much more acute now. Your ears perk up, and you look toward the door
in anticipation.
The principal notices, and chuckles, "Still expecting a girl? Ha, ha,
well since you'll be a horse for a couple of weeks, I suppose I could
put you out to stud, if you're a good horse?" He adds thoughtfully.
The door opens and you recognize the guy from the tack shop in town.
He's carrying a tool chest and pulling what looks like a trunk on
wheels behind him.
"Hey, see you got the horseman. I've got my portable crucible and
horseshoes."
Horseshoes? You really are planning to nail horseshoes in my feet? You
snort angrily and stomp your hooves.
"It's for your own good, Chad. You'll be pulling a heavy student
laden hay wagon along both asphalt and gravel roads. You need to have
iron shod hooves or you might split a hoof and then we'd be forced to
put you down," the principal said matter of factly.
You whinny loudly.
"Oh, yes, as far as everyone else is concerned you are just a horse.
Only Clyde and I know, Chad. If you go lame, the Humane Society would
insist we put you down."
You look around. There's really no way out. You snort, and canter, and
then bow your head in acquiescence.
"That's a good boy, Chad!" the principal says with a grin.
"We can't keep calling it Chad, it needs a horsey sounding name," said
the smith as he set up his equipment. He plugged and extension cord
from the electric crucible into a standing electrical outlet. It
whined menacingly as it heated up.
You sniff. You are so hungry. You realize you are still growing.
There are some bags of oats against the sheet metal siding, and
there's large metal washtub filled with water. You figure its for
you. You trot over and rip the burlap bag open, and start to chomp.
You are eating and growing and ignoring anything else. You feel
famished. Your stomachs rumble. You try to remember if horses have
four stomachs like cows. Do they chew cud? You expect to regurgitate
your freshly devoured oats, but you don't.
You drink a couple gallons of water, and hear the loud clang of metal
striking metal. You then turn your attention back to the principal
and smith. The crucible is glowing and the smith is heating up a
horseshoe. While you were eating, one of them had gathered your
reins, and while leaving you slack to eat and drink, they had tethered
the ends to a ring attached to a nearby post.
You snort, and resume eating and drinking. You must be becoming a big
horse, as the washtub and bags of grain seem to be farther from you,
and you are forced to bend your neck lower.