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Conversing Turns Violent

"You got still a name don't you," I asked of the big man. He gave me quite a stern stare as to my questioning him of his name, as if he was so far along toward becoming someday a bovine that he did not want a name.

"Randall is my name, as to my family name I do not feel there is a need for showing any connection with them, considering what I will become within a year or two from now." The big man said to me, as I again replied, "Yea, I can relate to what you say, as a good deal sooner the human I was will be something lost to me!"

I stood there and expected him to say something, but he just stood there looking at, or past me as if I were something he cared not to talk to, or about our mutual futures. "Your arriving early found me as not packed yet, and ready to take my leave from here."

"Take nothing with you, as from my experiences, of those I came for, you are well along with your changing of species. Human trappings shall mean nothing to you when you are trotting across a pasture." The big man said, as I watched his reaction, he putting his big hands down, into his pants pockets and began playing with his maleness.

I gave a look around the room, and giving a shrug to my shoulders, then said, "I suspect you are correct, what I have or owned here will be near worthless to a Dartmoor pony stallion at stud!"

The bovine of a man then reached his left hand to withdraw some papers he had stuffed into his back-pocket. "Stallion, at stud, I doubt that, what did the Doc tell you about the new you?"

"Why he told me that due to me taking more of the orange colored pills and using the 9% strength salve on my skin, I would become a Zebra. I told him I took more of the orange pills than I did the white pills, and he suggested my final breed to be that of a Dartmoor pony. Why do you ask, so what does it specify on your manifest?"

"Hmm, well it reads here that the Doc sold the new you. I was ordered to come pick you up and we drive you to the Morrison Pony Farm near Peoria, Illinois. Before we were to leave here I was to give you an inoculation injection of the Professor's Reformation Serum, what will force along you physical changes, allowing us to deliver you to the farm as fully and physically transitioned male pony. The surged transitioning causes a dire reaction due to stress. The stress tends to erase a person's memory, leaving a brute, dumb animal going to its new home.

You act as if you being physically transformed is of your choice, am I correct about you?

OK, well then, if I give you say about half of the total injection serum, it may well complete your physical transitioning, to where what I leave at the Morrison Farm is a human thinking, remembering, intelligent pony.

There is something more I wish to inform you about, it deals with your being a stallion at stud. Because you have no registration papers, no family lineage of being born a pony, or colloquially put you are seen as a cull, a bastard male pony, no pedigree, the farm manager will have insist upon having you gelded.

Once they geld you your future as a stud is done, and your real future is to give handicapped children pony rides. You can expect to live a long lifetime, as might a Dartmoor breed pony lives twenty to thirty years; unless you were to get injured."

I imagined I looked rather stunned by what the big fellow told me, he putting the manifest papers back into his pocket, and said, "You had great hopes of a wild and bestial style sex life when then a pony stallion, correct?

I can relate to you desires, not that when I arrived to apply for working at the research foundation did I come there with fond hope of becoming sometime soon as a Brangus breed bull and a herd sire. Yes, my new life time duties include me breeding as would a herd bull, a nasty lifestyle of vile and beastly ways.

That is OK, cry now if you wish, as after the serum has changed you, equines, ponies do not cry, they just wallow in their feelings.

Here now, I got in this pocket the syringe I was to inject you with, do you want it in the flank or the neck?

Neck, OK, and I will inject you only half of the full load..., hold still, you jerk when I do the injection and your mind shall fade away.

There, I gave you just 45% of the normally required serum. Now then, I suggest we make haste, as get you loaded inside the truck bay, you muscle reactions can become quite violent during the final transitioning phase."

I discarded my long sleeve shirt, giving it a toss toward the wash hamper there in the kitchen. I strode out from the family home walking rather unsteady on my hind legs and new hoofs. The thoughts of my future self, of me being gelded soon, but keeping my mind intact had me feeling quite aroused. Wishing then to gain as much sensations from my erect cock, it waving side to side as I walked toward the stock hauling truck. My matured pony tail was busy too, thrashing its coarse hairs across my furred buttocks and that very sensitive pony anus.

I was half the way walking up the ramp to take my place there in a short stall, sandwiched between two other ponies likely going to the Morrison farm, when my folks drove into the driveway.

My dad tooted the car horn, he seeing me, me my mostly pony self walking up, as entering a stock truck, my face still then as distinguishable of who I was, but was changing.

"Hey, wait there, son, my son what happened, where are they taking you?" Dad said, the fear he felt showing in how his voice quivered.

"No, no, Oh my God no, what has happened here...," Mom said as she to leaped out from where she had sat in the car, as ran up to me, she reaching her hands to take hold of my right front hoof.

"Hi Mom, Dad, yea this is what was your son, I am willing going with this man, me soon being completely like I was born a pony animal, as for now a stallion. Why you will ask, I know where Mike is, he is not dead but alive, and very happy, being as and living his life looking like a Welsh pony stallion.

I found him, and we have conversed several times. He lives a brutal lifestyle, and seems to enjoy the brutal way he mates with equally brutal pony mares. I watched him mate a yearling filly up close. I listened to how he huffed his breathing with every sensual thrust of his long, black stallion's cock.

I heard the mare grunt as Mike thrust his cock deep inside the female, a sound I have heard you do when with mom in bed late at night.

Those pills, those body builder pills, they caused this to happen and I am glad of it!"

Dad, his eyes blazed of disagreement and a hate for me, for what I chose, wishing to discard my human life and become a brute animal.

Mom stood there not wanting her last son to leave, no matter even as if I remained at home the real me would me that of a pony stallion, me an animal my form.

"It need be time we must go," said Randall the truck driver. As from the passenger side of the truck cab then came his partner.

"Can we get going, my transition is about to hit the forth phase, and I need to get to the farm., my dad is waiting for me to arrive.

"Huh," said my dad, as he took two steps backing away from the thin as young man, maybe he was in his teenage years but from how he appeared, he was say 80% changed to look like a buck goat.

Mom screamed when first she saw the goatish fellow.

"Easy Bobby, the more you exert your body, the faster is your transaction. Please get back into the truck cab, we are leaving just as soon as I get our new changeling bridled and tied into his stall.

Please folks, I know the passions and feelings felt by all about a child becoming an animal. You son received his final injection only a short while ago, so no matter what you wish were not true as real, he will complete his physical transitioning of body to become, as is a Dartmoor pony.

Do note even now, the slow but preseeding manner how his facial contours are becoming similar to his having soon an equine size head. Come friend, get up and inside, I need put on you your head bridle, and let you react to the serum stressing your final changes.

Sorry folks, but if you wish to visit your son, I have orders here to deliver him to the Morrison Pony Farm, it just south of Peoria, Illinois." Randall said, as he then pushed me into a aluminium barred stall, me having two similar dark furred ponies as company for the ride.

Randall did as he planned and I stood there letting him put on my head a pony bridle. He tied the rope lead to a steel crossbar, and then with a slap to my round, furred rump, he turned and walked out of the stock hauler trailer.

I jumped when I heard as felt the rear lift gate slammed into position for the vehicle to soon move along the highways. The whamming sound was in my thoughts the gavel of greater powers sealing me into my assured damnation.

"No, you cannot take away my son!" I heard Dad yelling at Randall.

"You put that gun back into your car and let what is your son, become what he chose, as asked to become!" Randall said, my father likely pointing his old army service revolver at Randall.

"No, no you cannot take my son..., ouch, what was that?" I heard Dad say.

Mom then yelled, she screaming for Dad to get into the house and doctor the cut on his arm.

The next sound was of the screen door to the kitchen as slamming shut. As then my Mom said to Randall, "You did not need to cut his arm that way, he is a reasonable man, as understand too that you are taking away our only son!"

"No woman, I am taking a horny, happy pony stallion to his ultimate doom. As just after the young stallion arrives to the pony farm, he is scheduled there to be gelded. As well know that I had but one weapon to defend myself from your husband, and that was the last half of the syringe I injected into your son to cause his final physical transitioning to become a pony animal.

If by chance that even a few cc's of the serum was injected into your husband, I suggest you learn to love him no matter how he might look, especially if his genitals become rather equine of size and contours."

Randall and Mom said nothing more, as the truck driver climbed aboard the truck cab and started the diesel engine, and we were moving toward our futures.


Written by Vaulthurst

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