Escape

Realizing that your leg is free from the puddle, you stand and turn to run. Almost immediately, you trip and fall to the ground, completely unaccustomed to walking with hooves. The werewolf sees his chance and pounces, but you turn and deliver another kick, this time with the full strength of both your strong equine legs. He lets out a yelp as he's knocked to the ground and then immediately stops moving, apparently knocked **** by the **** of the blow.

Using what used to be your hands, you lift yourself off the ground and stumble back home. It takes you almost twice as long to get back as it did to make it out there, and even then takes nearly a full minute of fumbling to get your front door open. Once inside, you clop your way to the bathroom to get a good look at the damage.

The first thing that strikes you is your face. You can see the light glinting off its rubbery surface, something that only serves to make it look more majestic. It doesn't look much different from a regular horse's, aside from the fact that it's far more expressive - you can clearly make out your own fear and concern in your reflection. The bridle, which you'd forgotten about up until now, remains tightly bound to your face, and when you reach up to try and pull it off you realize just how stuck it is. It had been a loose fit you when your head was the size and shape of a regular human being, but now that it's a horse's there's no way you'll be able to just pull it off. Worse yet, the hooves at the ends of your wrists wouldn't stand a chance of ripping it and there's no way you could hold a knife to try and cut it off.

You let out a disappointed sigh, the air from your massive nostrils fogging up the mirror. What the hell can you do? Nothing happening tonight makes any sense, and now that you're stuck as some kind of horse-man-rubber-thing it doesn't seem like it can get much worse. You begin to wonder if any sort of normal life would be possible with this kind of body. You wonder if you could even speak, so you try to talk... and all that comes out is a gentle whinny, muffled by the bridle. Even if you got it out, you wouldn't be able to speak. And another big obstacle crosses your mind, something a little lower. Looking down towards your powerful legs, you can see that your pants, while badly stretched by the change and ripped in several places, are still clinging to your legs. However, they don't even try to cover up your new manhood, a thick black member standing roughly a foot and a half even without being erect. You shudder to think of the length it would grow to if you were ever aroused.

Deciding that you're wasted enough time in here, you turn to leave... only to knock several things off the bathroom counter. It's at this point when you realize that you have a tail - a long, flowing set of luxurious hair, long enough to reach halfway to the floor. On closer inspection, you realize that it's probably the only part of you that's made up of real hair and not only that, it's the same colour as your hair was before the change. Thinking that this might not just apply to the tail, you reach up a hoof to see if you have any hair on your head. Just as you'd suspected, there's hair on your head as well - you have a long, thick mane running down the length of your neck, again made of real hair and again the same colour as your hair was before. At least some things haven't changed, you think to yourself.

Satisfied with your inspection and quite sure at this point that yes, you are a rubber horse-man now, you decide that the next step is to call for help. You walk to your phone, noting how much easier it's getting to stand on horse legs, and try to pick up the receiver... and then notice that you somehow forgot that you don't really have hands anymore. Determined to get some help, you flip the phone of the hook and then try to hit one of the buttons to dial a friend or someone else who could help you. Unsurprisingly, you end up hitting nearly all the phone buttons instead. You try again, and again you fail to dial just one button. Frustrated, you pound your hoof-hand down on the phone, instantly breaking it to pieces. You try to scream but just end up letting out a loud, angry whinny.

At this point, you're almost ready to give up and accept your fate to live out the rest of life as a freak. Still, there has to be SOMETHING you can do.