This choice: Aaliyah makes more drastic changes • Go Back... You breathe deeply, trying to rein in your volatile emotions. You need to stay calm. You need to find a way out of this. You need to –
Aaliyah is already preparing the next step in her dreadful plan, chatting all the while. “ – don’t worry, John. I haven’t forgotten about your titties. You’ll get big, bouncing breasts soon enough – but first…”
You see a murky brown flask in her hand. “Swallow this,” she commands, handing it to you. You scoff it down in one gulp, cursing the damned obedience ring. Almost instantly, your skin begins to itch.
“So John, I had to ask myself, how do I ensure you can’t turn the tables on me? If I, a simple slave girl, could do all this, then surely you could too, big, strong adventurer that you are,” she tittered. “It wouldn’t be enough to leave you as a slave. No, I needed to do more.” As short fur begins to sprout from your skin, you realize what she’s getting at. “That’s right, John. The lowest of the low. I needed to make you a ponygirl.”
Tears well in your eyes as you begin to understand just how far Aaliyah was willing to go. A ponygirl? The thought terrified you to your core; you scarcely believed it could even be possible. But the fur, now spread across your entire body, could not be denied. And what fur it was! Silky, light brown fur, gleaming luxuriously as it finished encircling your face. Your long hair (or perhaps it would be better defined as your mane) was now a dark, jet black color.
“Wh- why?” You sputter, unnerved. Aaliyah laughs in your face. “Because you’re so cute like this!” She replies snarkily. “What better way to remind you of your new station in life?” She inspected your tawny coat appreciatively. “And I like ponygirls. Always have – especially when I was a man. Let’s continue.”
She moves again to your head, the massage oil once again in her hands. “A few adjustments here,” she murmurs, caressing your ears. You feel your ears shift, moving towards the top of your head, and grow, becoming long and pointed. Soon, you find that they swivel, on their own, poking from your black mane, following Aaliyah’s movements.
With another display of cat-like speed, Aaliyah slips the obedience ring from your finger. Before you can even think to make a move, she has re-attached it with surprising ease, this time in your nose. The ring fills your nostrils, making breathing difficult. She smiles, almost apologetically. “Let’s fix that for you.”
She grasps your nose and mouth, pulling them outwards into a small muzzle. You feel your teeth changing into broad, flat molars, perfect for grinding. She sticks two fingers, one in each nostril, and widens them significantly. You snort a heavy breath through your new nose, the now much better-fitting golden ring tinkling softly. The mirror in the ceiling reflects a strangely attractive face, somewhere between a girl and a horse.
You feel your old life slipping away but aren’t sure how to stop it. While you’re lost in thought, Aaliyah rolls you, unresisting, onto your side. She grasps at your lower back, just above your perky little butt, and pulls. Soon, she’s dragged a long, flowing tail, from your spine – it’s a dark black color that matches your mane.
Now Aaliyah massages your legs intensely, beginning one of the changes that you’d feared the most. You feel the bones crack as your thighs plump up, growing thicker and more shapely as the rest of your leg changes shape. Finished with your legs, Aaliyah moves on to your feet, and you watch in dismay as they turn black and start to stiffen. Soon, they’ve hardened over and are nothing more than large, cloven hooves. Your brown fur forms a cute little cuff where it transitions from silky fur to hardened hoof.
Aaliyah takes another glob of oil and moves onto your arms. You feel your bones begin to crack similarly, and blanch, turning white (you’re sure) beneath your tan fur. “You… you can’t!” You protest as she strokes your biceps, then your forearms, remolding your arms into forelegs. Very few ponygirls are truly four-legged – most merely have gloves or arm-binders that restrict the use of their hands. But Aaliyah closes your precious hands into fists, and begins to change them in the same way as your feet, spreading hard, stiff blackness over your fingers and palms with the magic oil. Ignoring your increasingly frantic cries, Aaliyah finishes, moving away. Your hands are gone – now, they are nothing more than hooves, looking no different than the hooves which adorn your feet as well. How do I have any hope of escape now? You wonder, despondent. “I’ll kill you for this!” You hiss, rage burning in your eyes.
“You won’t get away with this! I’ll tell someone! Omar or Hassam! Jasmine! Someone will believe me.” You continue to vent. “And then I’ll have you killed slowly…” you peter out, not liking the small smile which has spread on her lips.
“You know, you’re right,” she says. “I’m sure you could convince someone of the truth. After all, you’re a very intelligent man,” she added, smirking, glancing towards your nether regions. You flush, wishing you could cover your indecent, disgraceful pussy, now rimmed with tufts of tawny fur. But the obedience ring holds you motionlessly in place.
“So I’m not going to give you the chance.” She produces another potion, this one a swirling blue, and goes to hand it to you. “Silly me,” she titters, lifting her eyebrows at your hooves. She instead tilts the potion into your mouth. “Drink.”
You swallow meekly, wishing you could spit it out. “What was it?” You demand. “What did it do to me-iiihee!” You clamp your mouth shut, stunned to silence. Slowly, you try again. “Hii-hee-hee! Nnyiiighhee-he!”
With a sinking stomach, and numerous attempts, you soon realize you can now do little more than neigh. No matter how hard you try, not a single human word escapes your lips. Aaliyah watches your struggle with a shit-eating grin. Finally, you give up, and merely glare at her, frustrated beyond belief.
“That’s a good girl,” she says, patting your head. “We’re almost done now, John. Just a few changes left – a few changes left to make you truly desirable – a real ponygirl.”
You don’t like the sound of that. But there’s nothing you can do besides lay there and wait for her to get on with it. The massage oil back in her hands, Aaliyah pushes at your belly, trimming it just a bit. Then, she tugs hard at your hips, until they widen out in a much more dramatic fashion. Aaliyah continues to prod and poke until your feminine curves are much more pronounced – and much more curvaceous. Your taut, thin waist flares out into wide, prodigious hips, sure to shake and shimmy with every step you take.
“Turn over,” Aaliyah orders eagerly, and you do so compliantly enough, despite the protestations of your mind. “Now, that won’t do at all!” She mocks, eying your tight, naked, little rear. “I’ve never seen a ponygirl with an ass that small! Don’t worry, John, I’ll give you a proper booty – one that’ll be sure to make the other girls jealous.” With that, she began pulling viciously at your butt.
With each tug by Aaliyah, soft, cushiony flesh pools in your rear, and it begins to grow fuller and heavier. Soon, it’s grown much more womanly, now wide and rounded. But Aaliyah does not seem satisfied yet. Please, no more! You think as she continues to add to your still-swelling, very plump, heart-shaped bottom. But still she continues, seemingly intent on giving you the most generous ass in the harem. Finally, Aaliyah tugs once more on your now plush, sumptuous rump, and slaps its plentiful expanses, giggling as its massive girth quivers ponderously. You now possess a truly magnificent ass, practically equine in proportion – it’s certainly bigger than any girl’s that you’ve ever owned.
You twist your neck, looking back at Aaliyah, forced to lean to the side just to see her around your waggling, oversized butt – which is jutting lewdly into the air. You see that she has a sadistic sneer painting her features. “Shake it,” she says simply.
You nicker softly, mortified beyond belief, but are unable to do anything besides carry out her command. You wiggle your tremendous hindquarters, snorting with humiliation as you feel each enormous cheek wobble. “Damn…” Aaliyah says huskily, reaching out with a hand to caress your squishy, enticing rump as you burn with shame. “Okay, okay… stop. Put that thing away before you hurt someone.” She laughs. “Roll back over and let’s finish this. One more change to go… and smile, John! This will be fun!”
You turn over onto your back again, getting used to resting on your much more padded posterior. “You know what’s coming, John,” Aaliyah says, smiling wickedly, and you do. “After all, I did promise…” She grabs at your nipples, tweaking them beneath her fingers as she makes them large and puffy… and unmistakably feminine. You want to shout, or curse, or yell, but are only able to grunt and snort in agitation. Your swollen areolae perk up, growing hard at Aaliyah’s touch. Then she is kneading at your still flat chest – although it doesn’t remain flat for long. Soft, supple flesh gathers around your new womanly nipples, forming into fatty little lumps. Aaliyah continues to add mass to the growing mounds, and before long she is fondling your jiggling, sizable breasts. However, she doesn’t stop, and soon you’d hesitate to call them ‘breasts’ – no, you have boobs, knockers, tits. When she finally backs away, they’re the size of melons, at least DD’s, big and bouncing.`
Aaliyah looks you over, drinking in your new form giddily. “This went better than even I expected. Look at you! You’re the prettiest ponygirl I’ve ever seen!” You can only stare back in silence, chest heaving, distraught and terrified. You’re a far cry from the strong, powerful man you’d been mere minutes earlier – now, like Aaliyah so happily informs you, you’re nothing but a beautiful ponygirl – a helpless slave in every aspect.
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