"Yes, there's no magic can change a person back. She wasn't one of John's harem favourites..." He asked, his tone sounding more sincerely curious as he spoke.
"Girl, pass me the skin." he demands as he snaps his fingers impatiently. You flinch at being addressed so casually, so dismissively, but with a nod from Mistress Jasmine, you obey. Taking the skin from it's half-hidden position in the straw.
As you hand it over to him, he admires the skin.
"You don't like being called 'Girl', do you girl?" he practically spits the words in your face.
"Whatever your name was before, you'll get a new one now." As if softening, you his free hand comes and strokes your mane, playing softly with your agile ears. Then with sharp twist, you feel him wrench the fastener from your skin. A chill races down your spine, as the skin loses it's false hope. It's pony girls all the way down. But you still feel the loss of freedom.
You see a pained look from Jasmine, as he drops the fastener on the stable cobbles.
"It helps the girls adjust." he assures her, "Just break their ties, with the harem life, or where ever they no longer live."
With a bluff snort he adds, as if teasing.
"Unless, she can find a skin to cover that form. But who'd do that for a pony girl."
"And that's what you'd be however, you disguise it." his last words directed to you.
Still reeling and in shock, you mutely stand there, not trusting yourself to speak, not wanting to hear the sound of your soft tones.
A tilt of his head directs your gaze back to the abandoned tack, scattered in the straw.
"You're still a pony girl, now you can do it willingly, or with a little encouragement." His voice eager for you to resist, his lust for punishment clear in his flashing eyes. Like an submissive... As a submissive pony girl, you slowly start to put the tack back on. Securing yourself back into bondage. Despite her own predicament, Sashra enjoys your humiliation. Her main frustration, that she can't tell Madlock your true identity, that you're not some foolish harem girl. Only capable of nickering, whinnying and entirely incapable of human speech.
Your advantage feels false, as you're unsure what to say, if there's anything you can say that will help. There's also a subtle change in how Mistress Jasmine is looking at you. A judgement, a question, is this your true form, has the Almighty revealed your true nature. Your teeth chatter nervously, as your eyes dart between their faces. Your ears flicking nervously, and you tail swishing in agitation too.
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