I drove deeper in to the wood using the power of the four-wheel drive, working my way through the trees until I was deep into the forest. I was trying to remember a clearing; it had seemed too easy to find when he was with me. I had let him take me, I had no need to remember the way, yet he was gone now and I wanted so much to get back something of what we had.

I was lost, for sure. I had no idea where I had got to and even less idea of how to get back, but somehow it didn't matter. I had been lost ever since he died, I was nowhere, and better to be in the trees, in the forest that he loved, trying to connect back to what we had, to what I was when I was with him.

Eventually there was some sort of clearing, a space with flat grass and soft light coming through the leaves. It seemed to be my space, it called out to me, the light seemed to glow. I stopped and stepped out and breathed, something beginning to come back. I pulled the bag out of the car and set it on the bonnet. Opening the bag I could smell the leather of my tack and my pulse started to run a little. I set the things out on the hood and savoured how they looked, the black leather glistening in the light. I let the smell soak into me, I could feel it deep in my lungs and at the same time the feeling began to stir in my guts and pelvis. I unbuttoned my blouse, enjoying the feeling of the air on my skin as I shrugged it off. I had worn no bra and it was thrilling to stretch back and let my tits jut into the sunshine. I carefully placed the blouse in the empty bag and removed my skirt, enjoying sliding it down my legs as though he was here watching. I had revelled in driving out here with no knickers on, letting the cool leather of the seat gradually warm under my ass. I folded the skirt into the bag and felt a little shiver feeling my nakedness in the air. It was cool under the trees yet warm enough. I stepped back, picked up the bag and walked slowly, naked, around the car and opened the trunk, put the bag in. Taking a deep breath I eased off the blond wig I had worn driving out here and put it in the bag with the last of who I had been. I zipped up the bag and shut the lid. I stepped back and ran my fingers across my head, there was barely half an inch of hair, it felt cool after the wig but slightly wild, my scalp so close to the air. I walked back around the car enjoying the feel of the grass on my feet and feeling the slight breeze waft through my legs. I was a little aroused and wanted to touch myself but he would never have allowed it so I resisted the temptation and returned to the items on the hood of the car.

I picked up the bit and bridle, carefully slid the bit into my mouth, pulled the rest of the leather over my head and buckled it into place. On each side the buckles allowed a small padlock to hold them shut. I carefully worked the padlocks into place and snapped them shut, holding the two keys in my hand. I chewed down onto the bit, feeling the sensation in my mouth letting my jaw muscles adjust. The ponygirl feeling swept back over me. I could feel it deep in my cunt and ass, with the whole of my pelvis tensing as my organs started to change, to being possessed by the pony idea, the alternative being that had been conjured up in me by his magic. Taking a deep breath, I flung the keys across the clearing as far as I could. I watched them arc thought the air, glinting in the sunshine. They bounced off a tree and spun away in different directions. I almost jumped as I lost sight of both of them at once and realised that I could never find them. It was done. I was pony now. There was no way back. A mixture of anxiety and excitement and at the same time a sort of release ran through me. I could feel myself as a new person, yet not a person, a different being.

What is a ponygirl? A fetish object, a sexual game played by a few who think it looks cool, but inside the girl something happens, or at least to some of them, those who make the transition. I could feel it when he had played the games. When I was dressed up as a pony there was a feeling of release, I didn’t have to worry about who I was or what I said, I could let myself go and be the pony. The nakedness, the leather, the feel and taste of the bit in my mouth all held me in that space. I loved it when I was shown to other people. If I had been naked as a person in front of crowds of strangers I would have been terribly embarrassed, wanting to hide. But as a pony I wanted to show off, wanted my tits and cunt and ass to look good, enjoyed feeling people take the bridle and lead me around. I was an animal to be examined, played with, enjoyed - it was so good to do and so much better when he was there. With him I would let anyone do anything. Play with my tits, feel up my cunt, penetrate my ass, I had been kissed, whipped, cropped and stroked by total strangers. When I was with him I was safe and I loved to look good and perform well for him, but I loved to be a pony as well. It touched something deep in me and gave me a way into a space that deep down was part of me but a part so hidden that in normal life there was no way for it to come out. I never knew how he knew it was there but I was so glad he had found the key to unlock it.

I took a beep breath and turned back to the rest of the tack. This was my plan, to be a pony for ever. I might die, probably would die, as a pony, free in the forest not as a sad girl lost in an anonymous city apartment.

Suicide had seemed the only thing for such a long time after he died and the only thing that stopped me was that it seemed such a cheap way out. Just to kill myself and there be nothing, nothing left of all he had done. I couldn't do it but I didn't want to go on living just being ordinary me without him because he had made me more than ordinary. He had brought out things from inside of me that I had never known were there. Why did he have to go? So stupid, smoking and cancer! We all knew it, but it could never happen to him. He never believed it, never even considered it, I never believed it, he had such power I could not imagine anything taking him away. When I was with him I was something else, I became beautiful. I suppose I was anyway, but not inside. I caught a glimpse of myself reflected in the window of the car with the trees behind me and I was beautiful, tall, slim, with lovely tits and a sleek mound above my elegant looking cunt. I had loved it when he shaved my cunt. It felt so free without hair, shaving away the old me, revealing the beauty underneath. It had been hard persuading the lady at the laser clinic after he died, but it was all off now and would never grow back. A beautiful smooth cunt, a memorial to him and his power to bring out the inner me. I savoured the reflection, turning slowly, the sun flashing off the rings on my nipples. I smiled and attached the bells to them next. I shook my shoulders ringing the little bells in the still air. The creatures of the forest would know this pony was coming.

I picked up the first hoof and looked at it. It was shapely, elegant and would extend well up my calf when it was on. It had been such fun having them made. I remembered the day they were finally done - we had come out in the woods, like this, and he had put them on me, working the new leather up my legs until they were a snug fit. I had worried about getting them dirty but he insisted on leading me around in and out of the grass and mud. The soles were thick , lifting me into a taller shape with raised heel, not so high that they were awkward and wide enough to give a good footing. The toes were cut out so that my painted toe nails could be seen. The open toes also meant that if I stepped into water it could flow into the boot but drain out again because of the raised heel. That was important because then he could take his pony out in all weathers and even if I was wearing clothes I could be hooved. The open toe feature would help now because once the hooves were on my hands there would be no way I could cut my toe nails. Once they were on this time I would be hooved forever.

I don't know when the idea of being a pony girl permanently came to me. But suddenly it took over, better than suicide, to change completely into the new life that we had found together, me the pony girl, he the master. I had so enjoyed playing at it, been so energised by it that it seemed the only thing to do. Of course it was suicide really, but a different kind of death, a naked pony girl in the woods was bound to die. I would starve or freeze to death but really my old self would be gone once all the tack was on. Once I walked away from the car as a pony there would be no way back. I was already lost in the forest, I would be a wild pony. It might be certain death but it was a new life as well. Death and rebirth so bound up in each other that I no longer knew which was which.

Who knows how long a pony could survive. I had cut my hair almost off so it would be months before that would be long enough to bother me. I could drink from the stream and I would eat whatever I could chew, difficult with a bit in, but it was a small bit, specially chosen so that I could eat. He had enjoyed seeing me eat oats and grain with the bit in, once I had lived on it for a whole weekend, naked as a pony, lost in the new world he had taken me into. I had loved it, the feeling of being helpless and naked, liberated completely from the former me. I had hated taking the tack off on Monday morning, hated showering and dressing as me and going to work.

I spent months studying the plants of the forest to know which ones I could eat, which ones might make me ill. I learned their shapes and their tastes. No names, ponies don’t know names, just what they looked like and I tasted them all. I could remember them all in the dark by their smell and taste if I had to, just like a pony. I was as ready as I could be to live as a pony.

I took the hoof and picked up a tube of superglue and squirted glue deep into the boot, before it had a chance to dry I had my foot in and my heel squeezed down into the glue. I applied some more to my ankle and pulled the boot up plastering glue into the zip as I pulled it up. There was no way my foot was coming out of there. Without a moment's thought I had glued the second hoof onto my other foot and zipped and glued that into place. I was a hooved creature now. I stood up straight and walked around the car, feeling the glue setting round my feet. I kicked the car once just to show that I was a pony and thought nothing of cars - it was a way of kicking away my former life.

I hoped he could see me where ever he was. I walked around until I could see a muddy patch and walked across it looking at my hoof prints, just like a horse. Well, this would fool anyone who came looking for me if they found the car. There would be no human footprints just a pony walking away, who would be able to make sense of that? Maybe they would think I had ridden off, or been kidnapped by someone on a horse. I loved the thought of that. I could imagine the headlines, 'girl abducted by mystery man on horse’, they would assume it was a man, though from these prints it would have to be a small horse. It was a delicious thought and would take them further from the truth. I would be assumed to be abducted and murdered, if I was never seen again. My former identity would be gone forever, missing, presumed dead. I walked around, finding more soft ground to make prints, allowing myself the fun of laying imaginary trails to nowhere. Then back to the serious business of transforming myself. Hooves on my feet were not enough.

I had to have a tail. I was proud of my tail. When I used to be a pony with him I just had a butt plug with a tail attached. It was a big plug and once it was in the tail stayed in place with no problem. Well that’s an overstatement it filled my ass and made me squirm. When I first tried it he used to help it in for me because that last bit before my ass got over the rim was agony. I eventually learned to do it myself. I really had to breathe deep to push through that barrier. He made me do it. I think he got more fun out of making me tail myself. Him pushing it in was OK, but for training but it had to be me. I had to become a pony myself and he was right, that last push through the pain and into that sudden relaxation as it plopped into place was an intense part of the flip over in my psyche into being a pony.

Putting that tail in, as it was, would have killed me for sure. I had considered it. Just plugging myself and waiting for the constipation to kill me, but that didn't sound right, even pony girls had to shit. I thought about it for a long time and tried all sorts of things to make it work. I walked around the flat with all kinds of thing rammed up my ass, trying to shit, trying different diets and seeing what would work. I knew it had to be something hollow but how to get it in? The final version was a hollowed out rear end of a big butt plug and then I glued a hard plastic ring inside it so that it would not collapse. The final device was like an ass-sized pipe deeply grooved to let the muscles shut around it and I got it in with a straight plug inside it that I could pull out afterwards. The long beautiful horse hair tail was glued round the top edge, so the tail plumed up from my ass but I could shit through it. It was easy enough to put in and I had walked around all day with it in the flat. I had thought of putting it in before I left but I didn't want to be driving along with the possibility of shit leaking out of my ass. When I was a pony it wouldn't matter, If I had shit running down my legs I'd just go in a stream and wash it off, downstream of where I would drink of course.

I picked it up and licked it all over to try and get some lubrication and then slid it up my cunt. There was plenty of lubrication there and I had so wanted to play with it as I got ready. This might be the last thing that ever went in there unless someone found me. It was so nice. I allowed myself the luxury of sliding it in and out many more times than were really needed. It must have looked strange if anyone could have seen, the great mass of hair from the tail sticking out of my cunt. Eventually I thought I might cum and that didn't seem right, so I eased it out of my cunt trying to make sure as much lubrication as possible came with it, and bent over to slide it into my ass. It was always a struggle because it was a big plug but I so wanted my tail. I pressed hard trying to relax the muscles as the familiar pain cut in, trying to mentally convert the pain to desire and pleasure as it slowly stretched my ass. I pressed back against the bumper of the car pushing against the handle on the plug until I thought I could hardly stand any more and still it was not in. I tried to imagine myself as a pony in the woods breathing hard letting the muscle spasm die down and then pushed again, seeking the pain, anticipating it and pressing for it, determined to enjoy it as the plug stretched its way another half inch. And then the sudden relaxation and feeling of comfort as it went in the rest of the way and my ass closed around the narrow ring. I sighed as I enjoyed the feeling and then slid the inner plug back out to leave the ring and tail in place. I stood up, easing myself fully upright and swirling round to see the tail swishing behind me. Oh the joy of it, I turned this way and that, dancing with my hooves and tail in an ecstasy of relief that it was in. I was tailed.

I looked back towards the bonnet of the car, at the two hooves for my hands. Once they were on there would be no way back, no way I could get them off and undo the rest of the tack. I would be a pony till I died. It didn't feel like killing myself, though I knew it probably amounted to that. I had read about all the plants I could eat on the forest floor and I could find water in the plentiful streams around here but could I really live forever as a pony in the woods? Logic said no, but I wanted a release from this life. Since he had gone it was not worth living. At least as a pony I would have that release. My old self would be gone, the pony he had helped to bring into being would be here all the time. A pony might have a short life but I would be out of this pain and into a new world while it lasted.

I squirted superglue into the hooves. I picked up the car keys and flung them over my head as far back as I could, without looking to see where they had gone. The keys arched through the air, going a surprisingly long way and landing in the grass, sinking into invisibility, never to be found again. I plunged my hands into the hooves, wriggling the fingers into the glue and grabbing at the fabric with my teeth to pull it up my wrists. I had practiced the manoeuvre for days, without the glue but with the bit and there was just enough bite to get my teeth onto the leather. This time I would not be able to pull them off again. I felt the glue setting and stood up slowly, turning the hooves over looking at their shiny leather. I could almost see my reflection in the shine. Like the hooves on my feet the ends of the fingers were cut away so that my polished painted finger nails could be seen around the rim of the hoof. It was electric, the transformation, no way back, a pony forever.

I turned around, enjoying my new freedom, swishing my tail in the air and prancing about. Then I turned and walked away from the car, out of the clearing. A pony in a new life. It felt wonderful, naked, hoofed and tailed, just as it was meant to, free, reborn, to explore the sounds and scents of the forest as a new being. Probably the only completely free permanent pony girl, with no master and no stable to go to, free in the forest. The woods took on a completely new feeling. I could sense danger around every curve. If I was seen there was nothing I could do to hide, to explain, to laugh it off, no one I could turn to for protection. I was a pony, shy, vulnerable, a wild animal, alone in the world. The adrenaline kicked in alongside the sexual arousal, this was beyond my dreams, a reality that was awash with endorphins, my whole being seemed full of electricity.

I was sure I looked wonderful, a fantasy figure loose in the real world, I tried to move as elegantly as I could, brushing through the undergrowth, trying not to cut my skin on the bushes and branches as I slid deeper into the forest. I stopped for a while listening to see if I could hear the noise of water. It would be good to find a stream to drink in after all the excitement of changing, of being reborn. I thought I could hear a faint murmur that might be water. Turning in that direction and listening more than looking, I didn't see the large nettle spring loose from the bush I had pushed aside until it stroked across my belly and cunt and through my legs. I jumped up at the sting and came down on another right between my legs stinging both lips of my hairless cunt at the same time. There was nothing I could do. It bore in on me relentlessly, my cunt was on fire, I squirmed around trying to make the pain move, my pelvis gyrating around trying to get away from the burning. I pressed against it with my front hooves. Fingers would have been so much easier, how does a pony scratch? I needed even more to find the stream and sit in it. I pushed forward though the brush trying still to press each branch down with my hooves before moving, desperate to avoid more nettles. The pain between my legs, the burning, made me so horny. I longed to be able to be back to the clearing and plunge that plug back into my cunt. I squeezed my legs together trying to fight the burning in my cunt lips. At the same time it was more of a release from my old self. I had to find out how a pony deals with things like this. I was finding out how my pony body responded to the world. I loved the sensation, revelled in the heightened sexual feeling of being naked and on fire.

I came into a small clear space and there was a stream running across a large rock and down to a small pool. It was an idyllic setting for my first drink. I crouched down putting my face into the water and drinking as much as I could and then sat in the water letting the cold relief up my legs and into my cunt. The fire dimmed and I was surprised by the cold water flowing into the ring of my tail and washing into my ass. I had never thought of that. I lifted my ass out of the water and then back in again to feel it running in and out, a new sensation. I smiled through the bit, I was probably the only person in the world who had ever felt that feeling, well not a person, a pony. I stood up and walked back out of the pool and lay down on the rock, so warm from the sunshine. The rays of heat beamed down and I relaxed on the rock. I spread my legs as wide as I could so that my tail would dry. I left my arms, forelegs, at my side and enjoyed being exposed to the sun. A little of the burning came back but only enough to enjoy. I wriggled my legs even further apart and worked my pelvis so that my cunt moved up and down into the sunshine as though I was being screwed. It would have been so nice to be taken just then, still wet from the stream, naked in the sun with a gentle burning in my cunt. So nice, so relaxing. I fell gently off to sleep with the warmth of the rock working into my back and my buzzing cunt soaking up the sun.