The Wizard of Whitetail Woods III
Chapter 2
Admiral Biscuit

A soft rustle through the leaf-litter caught KitKat’s attention, snapped her out of a pleasant dream. Her ears were focusing even as her head came up from the pillow and her eyes snapped open.

We should have had a sentry. Too late for that.

She was expecting some monster from the depths of Tartarus, some nocturnal denizen to wreak havoc on their camp, but it was even worse than that—it was the Wizard.

His robes were open and he had his baloney pony in hand and pointed directly at her. His eyes were closed in a blissful fantasy, undoubtedly involving the last centerfold playmate, and KitKat tried to twist out of the way but her bedroll betrayed her, and the wizard sprayed his magic all over her.

Her body wrenched in agony as the spell took hold, twisting and forming her body into a new form, shaping her as the Wizard’s willy willed. She was powerless to stop it and could do nothing but cry out in horror.

Quietly, so to not attract any predators who might be nearby.

And then the transformation was done; there was nothing left but a drying glaze of roman yogurt splattered across her. The Wizard grunted and turned, shuffling back to his bedroll, clearly unaware of what abomination he’d wrought.

To most ponies, it would have taken at least a few minutes to process what had just happened to them. How their hooves had changed into wriggly pink tentacles, how their fur had vanished to be replaced with smooth skin, how their ears had shifted and immobilized. How their tails had shrunk into a largely useless coccyx which couldn’t be flicked in frustration. At least she didn’t have a horn or wings to lose; in that regard, being a lowly mudpony saved her from additional horrors.

“God damn it.” That was a useful phrase she’d learned from the Wizard. “Also, teletubbie kut and tapan hänet.” Those were useful phrases in ponish and beaver, respectively. She looked down at her body. “He went and turned me into Miss July 2008. Fake tits and all.”

Most ponies would have either galloped off in a panic or curled up under the covers in the forlorn hope that they’d imagined what had just happened. Tempting though it was, KitKat didn’t do that. The Wizard had already transformed her once, and who knew what he might get up to later in the night if she didn’t take action now? She’d seen his wrinkly winky more times than she cared to admit—every time he cast a spell, in fact—and the idea of him getting a notion to stick it in her was repulsive. She’d rather fuck an Abyssinian.

Her saddlebags carried all sorts of useful accouterments. Bedrolls, spellbooks, emergency cheese, and also sixty-six feet of black nylon rope, braided from the finest aliphatic polyamides.

KitKat’s fingers fumbled at the buckle and she finally gave up and opened it with her mouth, as was proper.

Murdering the Wizard was still an option on the table, but she needed him to change her back into a pony, so she left her tabarzin behind. If he confessed he couldn’t change her back, well, then it was time for the axe.

Human fingers made short works of knots, and it hardly took her any time at all to truss him up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

He moaned in his sleep, something about hurt me, baby, and a few other things along that vein, and she resolved that tomorrow morning she was going to burn the dog-eared copy of Six Shades of Grey she kept in her saddlebags for alone time. Clearly the Wizard had been reading it, too.

She should have known by how some of the pages stuck together.

💦

Being human sucked. On her way over to tie him up, she’d been filled with vim and vigor and vengeance, but now she was reflecting on how every time she took a step, it felt like she was going to fall over. How the forest floor wasn’t all that soft after all. And most importantly, how cold it was to be out in the forest at night without a proper coat of fur.

She slipped back under her blanket and rested her stupid human head on her pillow, finally drifting off to sleep as she considered whether it would be more satisfying to dismember the wizard in biological order or alphabetical.

💦

Meanwhile, the damn beavers continued their damn dam repairs. They were quite industrious and worked three shifts.

Also, the bear had enjoyed the go and returned to his bear lair, where he had also curled up for a blissful night’s sleep, dreaming of pickinik baskets and the bounty contained therein.

💦

I didn’t mention the skunk, but she also made a lap of their camp and then left, having found nothing of interest.

Author's Note

It’s not too late to stop reading.