(F to Mare, F to Stallion)

“Is it quite ready yet,” Princess Emeria huffed, looking over the witch’s shoulder at her cauldron. This was, of course, in spite of a dozen warnings from her bodyguard. Said bodyguard was currently lounging by the door, in a way that would have been intimidating were it not for her diminutive Elvish stature.

The witch – Emeria hadn’t bothered to learn her name, as learning was something for the help – crinkled her nose. “You can’t rush magic, you know. I’m trying to craft a delicate spell here-”

“And just like that, I have found myself bored.” Emeria turned to her bodyguard. “Lenry, amuse me.”

The Elf let out a sigh that had been brewing for the past hour. “Milady, your father didn’t hire me for capers or antics.”

Emeria snatched one of the witch’s trinkets off its shelf and tossed it to her bodyguard. Of course, Lenry caught it easily. And the next. And the next. But by the fourth trinket, it was abundantly clear that the elf was out of hands.

Thinking quickly, Lenry started to toss what she’d caught in the air, freeing her hands enough time to catch something else, lobbing it in the air as well. It was precisely as Emeria had planned.

“Haha, how wonderful! You juggle well,” Emeria beamed, before noticing something was distinctly… awry. She turned an eye to the witch, not for the woman’s reaction, but for her complete lack of a response. Emeria had quite hoped that this would upset the witch just as much as her bodyguard, and was a little disappointed… Until she saw the woman’s expression.

The witch was absolutely mortified, with a look much like that on the faces of some of those Emeria had seen at the gallows. For the first time today, Emeria had a slight moment of doubt. Perhaps she shouldn’t have had such fun, one of those trinkets might-

Lenry fumbled one of her desperate catches, and a small hourglass fell to the ground. Rather than shatter, it instead seemed to dissolve into a mist of dust, a thick haze that leapt towards the cauldron as though it was caught in a gust.

The witch shrieked, and made some sort of symbol with her hands. She disappeared on the spot, little more than a cloud of smoke marking her departure.

This startled Lenry enough for her to drop the rest of what she was juggling, though nothing else reacted quite so spectacularly upon falling. “Milady! What did I warn you about?”

“A number of things, can you be more specific? There were at least seven this morning alone,” Emeria quipped.

“I’m… Impressed you recall. But most specifically, I meant-”

Before she could utter so much as another word, the cauldron exploded, engulfing the room in a thick greenish fog.

Emeria didn’t so much as think of holding her breath. She gasped in shock, sucking in an enormous lungful of the smoke, then found herself doubling over with a harsh, loud cough. The air didn’t taste like air. It tasted like grass, and hay, and sunlight, and things that should not taste and yet did.

The princess waved a hand, fanning away some of the greenish smoke. To her surprise, cutting the fog with her hand revealed a blue cloudless sky. Until a moment ago, Emeria had been squarely within the witch’s hut, and yet now it was as though the roof wasn’t there.

And the floor, for that matter. Emeria could feel soft earth beneath her favorite slippers.

She crinkled her nose at that. She’d need to have them remade now, there was no way a good washing would get all the dirt out.

Though… Wasn’t that what she wanted from the witch?

“A spell to let us live a day as commoners,” Emeria mused, looking around and seeing farmland through the greenish smoke. “I suppose that witch really knew what she was doing…”

A series of coughs let Emeria know she wasn’t alone, and she turned to find Lenry doubled over beside her. The princess rolled her eyes, strolling over to her protector.

“Please, it’s not all that bad, you just need to clear your…” She trailed off, seeing something distinctly off about the other woman.

Lenry’s nose had swollen. Her nostrils were wider on her face, flaring with each breath in and out. Moreover, each exhalation brought with it wisps of that strange greenish smoke. “I warned you!” Lenry wailed, coughing again.

This time, the strong woman’s face stretched. Emeria stared in shock as Lenry’s features warped like clay, pulling out into something that looked strangely familiar. For some reason, Emeria was reminded of her riding lessons…

Lenry convulsed, her torso bulging, snapping through her leather armor. Her neck stretched, throat bulging like a frog’s before lifting her head skyward. Her arms windmilled for a moment, before slapping her hands against the soil.

Emeria’s bodyguard was becoming a horse. It was the only thing that made sense, in a nonsensical way. “Amazing! I guess the spell must be different on elves than humans…” Emeria looked around, searching for a plow. She had no idea how to use one, but she was sure that was something commoners were supposed to do.

It wasn’t her fault that Lenry was turning into a horse… Or maybe it was. But either way, she’d make the best of it.

“PlHGHHEESE! Nuhhht wannuh hurrrs!” Lenry’s voice sounded deeper now, though she was still clearly female. Emeria had never thought much on the differences between horses and humanoids, and she found herself utterly captivated.

“Not to worry, I am quite sure that the spell will undo itself with time,” the princess lied. She took her changing bodyguard’s face in her hands, pulling open her mouth to look inside. To her surprise, she found that the Elf’s tongue had remained the same size, though it soon throbbed and bulged obscenely.

“HRRREEIIGH!” Lenry whinnied, and with her cry came another great cloud of green smoke, expelled from her larger lungs.

Emeria’s eyes watered as she breathed it in, and she staggered back, fanning her face. “What in the devil was that for? Do not tell me that you cannot control yourself, you should be trained better than thuuhheeeeigh.”

She froze, no longer watching the mare’s frantic coughs. That sound couldn’t have come from her… Could it?

Emeria raised a delicate hand to her lips, but it wasn’t a hand anymore. Her fingers had clumped together, merging into one another and twisting into a hard hoof. She looked at it and screamed, grabbing her wrist and tugging at it as though she could remove the hoof like a glove.

This only succeeded in spreading the changes to her other hand. Her fingers stiffened, losing their grip on her arm quickly. This time, she truly got to watch as dark enamel overtook her perfectly smooth pale skin.

An itch spread across this skin, like thousands of ants crawling over herself. Emeria tried to itch at the sensation, but her changed hands were singularly unsuited for the task. Her eyes watered, and she glanced to one of her arms to find a dull brown fur covering her skin.

Not only was she too becoming a horse, but she wasn’t even going to be a pretty one! Emeria scowled petulantly, turning to berate her transformed guard.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Lenry was a mare now, with golden fur the same shade as her hair. She sported soft, dark udders, and wide, sensual hips. Something about her every breath stirred a feeling in Emeria’s chest, the kind of feeling that was typically reserved for men of the court.

But today was anything but typical.

Emeria took a stumbling step toward the mare, face flushed. Her nose twitched as she drank in more of the horse’s delectable scent. Her chest ached at the look of Lenry’s golden mane and swaying tail. It was wrong, but… She was in love.

Or in lust. That may have been more accurate, given how she soon found herself pressed atop Lenry’s back, awkwardly wrapped around her in an almost-equine hug.

Emeria didn’t care. She buried her swelling face in Lenry’s mane, sucking in a great lungful of the mare’s earthy scent.

Something between her legs pulsed. Ached. Throbbed. Emeria grunted, gasping, grinding against the mare. This was…

Humiliating.

Emeria’s cheeks flushed. She was a princess, not some base-born beast. She took in a deep breath through her new snout, lamenting that she’d barely resisted feeling her face stretch into a muzzle. Her body was so much bigger now, stronger…

Male-er. Was that even a word? She would make it a word when she got back to the kingdom. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, in the process tousling her unkempt mane.

Unkempt! Yet another humiliation. She’d surely punish that witch for this, if given the chance. She might be a stallion, but she was still a maiden at heart.

Unfortunately for Emeria, a good horse wasn’t ruled by their heart, but by other impulses immediately. Despite her newfound clarity, her body was still atop a mare’s, and there could only be one conclusion to this.

Lenry gasped beneath her, the mare quivering as she truly felt her princess’s heat. She turned her head back, eyes somehow full of both outrage and desperate need. She huffed, but didn’t stop herself from rolling her hips back, swishing her tail to the side.

Emeria tried to order her to stop, but all her new body could manage was a dopey “NuhhUHHRREEIGH!” It was a far cry from her royal vocabulary, and she found herself huffing too as she began to join her companion’s motions.

That was exactly how a farmer would find them hours later. Despite the passage of time, their stamina seemed endless. Much to both of their shame, this would soon be put to good use: fieldwork by day, and foal-making passion at night.

Neither knew how long it would take for the spell to come undone, or if the kingdom even knew how to search for them. And as the indignity continued, Emeria had to face the very real possibility that this might be her new life.