Farmers Gift!

Since I was first on, I guess it was only appropriate, that I came first off of the bus too? That's what happened, as she walked up to me, all the way through the bus, only to pull me out of the seat.

Had I resigned to the situation? She certainly didn't have a problem pulling me out of the seat.

I feel her hand over my muzzle, as she pull me up, and out of the seat, before the hand slip in under me, between my legs, and her finger once more entered me, before she lead me out of her bus. Ofcause it's hers, it had to be. How couldn't it. Carrying out, what she was doing, I can't see how she would be careless enough to use someone else’s but in this case.

Unless there are larger forces at work here, that is, which sent a chill down my spine and I quickly pushed the thought away.

She leads me into the building, all the way across the hall, passing he kitchen in the right, and into a rather small room, with a bed and a desk. Naturally there is also a chair in which I can sit. That's where she planted me.

As I sit down, I notice how soft and responsive the seat is, just an instant before I realised why she wanted me to sit in the chair. I could feel something slip inside of me, front and rear, just as in the bus, obviously, and with that, I'm stuck in place, no way off of the chair, and thus out of the room. I couldn't even move to the bed. I hope it's mine.

The desk seems to have been crafted out of beech wood, the walls are covered with Cherry panels from floor to ceiling. My chair is green, as is my bed.

I soon noticed that there is no windows in the room, just as there is no control of the light. Furthermore, there is no key hole on my side of the door, which I imagine was made out of solid linden wood.

The previous time, in the bus, I had not known how long she was to be out of the bus, now I knew how many girls there was, since I had counted the seats, and the steps into the bus. I figured I had time to make an attempt? I placed my hands on each side of the chair, pressing down, trying to pull myself off of the chair, as comfortable as it felt, siting in it. Naturally, it's more comforting, then it had been in the bus.

What happened, is that I could feel the intruder stretch slightly, as it pinned me down, I can easily feel it inside of me, as it refused to let go of me from inside. That's mainly in my rear, it was holding me in place, the other just wouldn't slip out, since I couldn't push myself up far enough to even try to pull it out, if I could let go of the chair with either of my hands. Only then I gave up, I couldn't pull myself fre, as it seems to me now.
Once I had given up on pushing myself out of the chair, I finally get to the next important detail, slipping my right hand over my face, feeling the smooth hide covering my entire face, from ear to ear, where they are now, that is. In the middle, between them, I found a muzzle, my muzzle, but neither nose, such as it had been, nor lips?

It feels as if she had covered my face with sleek and slippery oil, and it's also as smooth as rubber, and just as elastic, I could easily open my mouth, or blink, just as I had before.

On closer examination, she had given me a pony-like muzzle. My eyes had migrated in order to complete the impression. If I focus on my ears, I can move them to listen in on specific sounds, which is curious, and slightly scary. It's something I fear I will simply have to get used to. Unless she decided on changing me back. I don't feel any hope for this change, though.

Without a mirror close by, or anything that could serve the purpose, I couldn't see my face, I had to make due with what my hand could feel. As disturbing as it may feel. Yet, she hadn't hurt me in any way, short of the mental break the changes had done. If I enjoy myself, these wounds would heal quickly. Ofcause, do I wish for the situation?

Once I had examined my face externally, I allowed my tongue to examine my mouth internally. What I discovered seems to go in line with what I had already discovered, she had intended me as a pony of some kind. What little I know about ponies matches with what my tongue told me., even though there are a few details that stick out, like the teeth in the corners of my jaws,they're actually both longer, and considerably more pointed, then they had been to my collection, in any case.

The wide panoramic perspective is distracting me, even though I can still grasp a fairly wide field of depth, even if it may not be quite as wide as it had, and should be, from a human perspective? Aside from this, my vision had not changed enough for me to notice it.

For now, I worked on the assumption that I had only changed, where her hands had touched my skin, or close to the spots. With that, I allowed my other hand move down between my legs. My mound is exactly where it had been,. Where it should be, and where I hope it will remain, for all times. What had changed is the now slippery hide. It feels exactly like the hide covering my face. If the feel of it has any significance, I could assume that the colour is the same too. I could bed my neck enough to have a glimpse, which told me it does look as it had, short of the glistering as if covered in a thick layer of clear slime, or gel, as if she had covered me with a thick lube?

Thankfully the effect of this slime did not smear on my hand, more then it had on the other hand I had examined my face with. Maybe I should be grateful? It's how I feel right now. With that, I don't need to fear any changes while I examine myself. Maybe this is my only chance, and if so, I still like to get a thorough job towards the effect.

Since both my orifices are filled up, I can't examine what changes her fingers may have affected me. Yet, I could at least get an idea as to what she had done to me externally. Obviously I could both see and feel how my mound had grown considerably, not sure how to feel about it. Even if I don't enjoy her changing me, the effect of it wasn't bothering me. If I ever were to wear panties, I was going to fill them out more on the front, aside from that, there is no change on this field.

Looking closer, I could however see that my orchid also had changed. It's considerably larger, and now a deep and clear cerise. It makes the expression 'Orchid' stand out as more then a mere expression.

I realised I couldn't examine the internal changes, but I could still feel some effects of her work on the matter, since I can't leave the chair. Then I slip my thumb over the orchid. The sensation hit me as if I had been hit by a lighting bolt, from a clear sky, not that it hurt, but the sensation is just as strong and unexpected.

I couldn't help it, but had to allow myself to enjoy the moment, just a moment longer. It's the way I had been rewired. Even if the sensation is distracting me. It's far too strong, but that's what made it so hard to pull my hand away, to pull it away from the mound. I may regret my reaction as much as I may, but I just couldn't help myself, as I enjoyed it. It isn't as if it's a sensation you have every day.

I had heard her push several of the girls by the sound of it, door by door opening and closing, the steps of girl by girl passing my ears. The sounds of nude feet of light girls walking along the hall, before they were seated, once more, just like I had been. I imagined them examining themselves, just like I had, experiencing just what I had felt.

To my chock and dismay, the images excited me, I couldn't help it. Knowing they had been captured and abducted in the same manner I had, didn't change the fact. Even if neither I, nor any of them had asked for it, or so I had to assume, I still enjoy how it feels, even if I regret how it came to be.

I couldn't see any of the girls, but I pinpoint every move every one of the girls made as they move from the bus to their respective rooms. I couldn't help that either, even if I had wanted and tried. I'm too curious. Should I have regretted my curiosity? It's a distraction from my situation, and my position, even if that never had been my focus. Knowing where they were wouldn't help me either.

One by one, the girl was moved into their respective room, where they were to wait, for what ever we're waiting. For her to come back and change me further? Maybe I didn't feel so bad about the prospect after all, now as I think of it.

The moment came, just as it had to, she placed the last girl in her room, and with that, she was done moving girls into her house, her home, or I imagine it was.

Who they were, or what they looked like, they had been my friends. They frequented my gym class, that's why we had all been though the showers at the time. Apparently I was the first out. Or at least the first she had chosen to pick up and change.

I'm bound for an equine life, in the image of her design. What ever her image could possibly be. What did she have in mind for us?