
You open your new snout and try to articulate a sentence. The unfamiliar muscles struggling to find it's memory of talking. The stallion stands up and puts on a hat. He walks over and stares down at you. You look up, realizing just how much bigger he was than you. Something inside your mind kicks at that thought and you feel an arousal.
"Do you remember what act you were recruited for? Judging by them clothes, I'd say your apart of Montly's Crew."
You blink, having no idea who that is. Instead, you finally form words with your new structure.
"H-how dooI get ouu of here(How do I get out of here)?" your words sluring with this giant tongue.
"Out? Yer not getting cold feet, are you?" The stallion leans in and eyes you down, his face closer than ever.
He pauses before letting out a booming laugh, "If you want out, you shouldn't have joined in the first place! This is but a place of misfits and rumors, folks that ain't ever missed if they're gone," he puffs a thick cloud through his nostrils at you and the mood changes, "unless, you ain't from round these parts.."
The cloud of thick smoke throws you into a coughing fit, the smell of tobacco mixed with the smell of sweet rotting. You struggle to think of an answer quickly.
> Lie.
> Admit the truth.
> Try and leave.
THERE IS NO MORE STORY; UNDER IS THE POLL. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN VOTING ON THE STORY, PLEASE SUBSCRIBE TO THE PATREON!
MINOR DECISION: POLL ENDS 7 PM PST OCT. 14 (10/14)
Alex V.
2025-10-14 23:43:20 +0000 UTCSENNE
2025-10-14 23:32:41 +0000 UTC