As Peter sat in the winner's box in the form of Riley, he sipped a mint julep and admired his handsome companions. The five others in the box were stars of stage and screen who vied with one another to sit with Riley, the owner of the three champion racehorses.
They enjoyed drinks, as the horses and jockeys paraded passed the grand stand. Ty tipped his cap in his purple and orange riding outfit. He looked like a 4' 9" version of Tom, and barely visible was a sticky transparent thread connecting him to his mount's penis. Poolscratch shook his mane and whinnied, he'd be human again tomorrow, and never again would he bet on pool. He just had to win one more race and he'd be home free. He didn't want to become his fraternity's eunuch slave boy, which was was Peter promised would happen to each and everyone of them if they lost a race. He turned his head from side to side noting his competitors as they entered the gate.
Regent's Second was a chestnut gelding that he beat by a nose earlier. He'd have to watch him. A bay, no competition. A black arabian...no way, it was Dylan, and Dustin in Dylan's form was riding him. To his right, a dark horse whinnied, it was Riley. Peter had entered them all in the same race. If he was true to his word only one of them would go home a man, unless they all lost. Tom swallowed hard, and shook his head. Ty leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, Tom, I know you can do it. I'm sorry about your bros though, didn't think Peter had a mean streak. I think it may be all the booze he's been drinking." He looked cautiously over to the box where Peter sat while a super model played waitress and poured him another mint julep. Peter was a mean drunk, Ty decided, and shook his head. Hopefully, tomorrow it would all be over. Ty wondered if somehow Peter taking Riley's form had acquired his traits as well. He patted Tom's neck. Over the last week, he'd gotten rather fond of Tom. He almost thought attached, but the tether that held genie Ty to his horse's cock reminded him of his fate.
Secretly, Ty feared that Tom would lose. Be gelded, and this former organs tanned into a bottle for him. Peter really liked having a couple genie slaves, and Ty doubted his sincerity about restoring everyone. His doubts increased after Peter entered all three in the same race, after vowing to cut the balls of any horse that lost. Ty struggled to assert control over his powers. He could make it a three way tie photo finish, if he just could act on his own.
"There'll only be one winner, Tom-Ty!" the jockey next to Ty said. Ty realized instantly that it was Peter disguised as the jockey riding Riley. He slurred his speech and wobbled slightly on his saddle.
Ty glanced at Riley in the grandstand.
The jockey laughed.
"You know that method actor, the guy who was in that movie you and Dustin always go on about. Well, he really thinks he is me, he won't remember it after this race, but right now he's got all my memories, and thinks he's me. Cool huh?
"So who's going to win?" Ty asked.
"It's a horse race! Who knows? No powers, just good old animal flesh that's running to keep its family jewels. The losers will make nice purses for the winner, hee hee!" chuckled Peter the jockey.
The bell and the gates swung open. They rode like the wind.