Mare thee well

You shouldn't have been working late, and certainly shouldn't have answered that phone call. You were already cranky, and the last thing you needed was some old lady yelling at you about getting a refund. Granted, you could've conducted yourself much better...you didn't mean to unload on her, but it had been a tough week. You didn't quite make out everything she yelled back at you, something about enjoying oats for the rest of your life? Delicately pressing "end call" didn't have the same satisfaction as slamming down a phone receiver, so you bashed the keyboard against your desk instead. It broke in two, and the other half bounced back, hitting you squarely in the forehead and knocking you backwards off your chair.

When you came to, nothing felt right...you could hear your own heavy breathing and felt it fluttering your nostrils. Your office was a mess, around you lay piles of scattered papers that must've fallen from your desk. You squirmed to get up, but felt oddly heavy and inflexible...looking down at yourself past some kind of obstruction, you were shocked at what you saw. Tits...big giant ones rising and falling with each breath. An expanse of a barrel torso below them, followed by two smaller tits, and thick equine thighs capped with hooves...and a hairy tail swishing back and forth along the floor in alarm.

D-did that lady turn you into a horse? A...girl horse? Your hands felt thick and clumsy, but you reached past your teats with what remained of your fingers and confirmed what you'd dreaded...

Next to you on the floor lay your desk phone, its screen cracked beyond repair. So much for dialing that old lady back...How are you supposed to get out of this? No one will be back in the office until Monday...will you even be able to fit into your car to get home?