Biting on the Reigns
By and copyright Eric Chambers
Idea by Phil Velasquez

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"Samantha!", the tight-skinned headmistress yelled out to one of the many girls riding through an obstacle course, her crop slapping the palm of her hand to emphasis her anger, "Get over here this second!"

A fair-skinned young woman, around sixteen, trotted her horse through the middle of the course towards the aging headmistress, her nose wrinkling in disapproval as she neared and dismounted. "Yes, headmistress?", she asked innocently.

"This is a beautiful creature, one of God’s, not your personal playtoy. Do you understand?"

The young girl’s eyes narrowed slightly, her hands clenched into fists behind her, "Yes, headmistress."

The old woman held out a liver-spotted hand, thrusting it, palm open, "Hand me your crop."

"But, headmistress... "

"Quiet! I’ve had enough of your abuse to these lovely animals. You are hereby banned from using your crop, and therefor banned from riding, for one week. However, for that week you also have stable duty, and those stables will be immaculate. Do you understand?"

Samantha winced unnoticeably, forcing herself not to scowl in front of the old bitch; she did, however, hand over her crop into that disgusting, wizened hand. "Yes...headmistress...", she forced out, almost choking on the words.

"Maybe taking care of these beauties will teach you some respect for them. Lord knows nothing else has." And with that she turned and started walking off, but not before adding, "Take Ladies’ Pride back to her stable and brush her down, I will be by later to inspect her."

Samantha now fully showed her disapproval in her face, lines wrinkling her forehead and the corners of her mouth, as the old bat sauntered off. She ignored the two girls that rode up beside her and dismounted, a blond to her left and a redhead to her right.

"Gawd, Samantha, that was totally unfair", the blond one quipped.

"Yeah, she’s just jealous that you almost beat her time by eight-tenths of a second", the redhead chimed in.

Samantha unbuckled her riding helmet, her short brown hair glued to her scalp by sweat, and rolled her eyes, "Whatever. I don’t care. I hated riding this damn beast anyway." She tugged harshly on the sweating horse’s reins as she began to walk towards the white painted stables about one hundred yards off. "My parents should of bought me a thoroughbred instead of this thing." She gave the reins another quick tug.

"Totally", the blond quipped once again.

The redhead just nodded.

The three entered the girl’s locker room and parted, the blonde and redhead going off to the lockers to change as Samantha went to the showers. She graced her way over, holding up a towel around her body. She stopped as someone got in her way.

"Oh, Samantha, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened. The headmistress can be strict at times." Samantha looked the girl over. Overweight, pudgy, or just plain fat is all she saw, making it worse was the girl was also only wearing a towel. Samantha gagged in the back of her throat and narrowed her eyes at the girl. One hand on her own towel, the other darted out, stripping the piggish girl of hers, and stepping forward she pushed her across the curtain that separated the showers from the main locker room. There was a pause, a long, shocked pause. As Samantha finished her journey to the showers, she smirked at the resounding laughter and one lone cry, mixed with embarrassment, humiliation, and utter distress.

"So what’s this for?", the blonde girl trailed Samantha down a sidewalk, passing houses, each one larger and more grotesquely extravagant than the last.

"I feel like it. Besides it’s a good way to show how well off my family is, after this party there wont be any doubt."

"Oh...", the blonde girl cast her eyes to the ground.

Samantha sighed heavily, rolling her eyes, "Yes...you’re invited."

The blonde girl instantly perked up, almost jumping in excitement, "Oh...thank you!"

"Yes, yes...just wear a descent costume. This is your house isn’t it?"

"Hm? Oh, yea. Thank you so much...goodbye!", she waved from the stone steps that lead up to her front door, steeping in an almost ninety degree angle from the hill her house was perched on.

Samantha grunted her goodbye. "Idiot."

She continued her way home in a fading sunset, reaching her front door well after dusk. "Daddy, I’m home." Only the sound of an adding machine answered her. She followed it to where she knew it would lead, her father’s study. "Daddy?", as she opened the door.

"What, sweety?

"I’m home."

"Hm. Ok.", His fingers flying over an adding machine, and his eyes darting between paper and desk, he didn’t even look up.

"Daddy...is it ok if I have a party?"

"Sure, honey. What for and when?", still not looking up.

"No reason, just a costume party, I thought it would be interesting...Saturday I think."

"Yeah, baby, that’s fine. Daddy has some work to do, could you be a dear and go play?"

Samantha’s fists clenched behind her again, her eyes narrowing, "Yeah...bye.", and she closed the door, the clickity-claking of the adding machine echoing down the hall as she made her way to her room.

The next morning Samantha hit the mailbox and the costume shops: the mailbox to deliver invitations and the costume shops for the obvious. She had hit three shops by noon and all were a joke, nothing but ordinary costumes, what she would expect everyone else to be wearing. She sat on the curb, sighing, her hand running though her cropped hair in a bored reaction...and then she saw fat. That same girl from the showers was walking across the other end of a parking lot the stores were sharing; she never looked more like a rabbit than at that moment, and Samantha never felt more like a wolf. Samantha rose slowly, her lips unconsciously sneering back, her arms limp at her sides as, in slow-motion, she walked toward the girl. Her heels hitting the concrete softly, then the balls of her feet, she swung around a car, keeping an eye on the girl who just walked slowly, straight and unaware. Samantha’s feet dug in to the ground and propelled her as she picked up her speed, tiny sprays of gravel trailing her name-brand shoes, shortening the distance between the two. The girl heard something and turned, her eyes widening at the mere sight of her tormentor, not to mention the sheer predatory look that was washed over her face. The girl made a small choking sound and froze completely, breaking into a run only when Samantha was a few feet from her. Surprisingly fast for her size, the girl outran Samantha and ducked into a store, leaving Samantha in the middle of the lot laughing with tears coming down her cheeks, clutching her sides.

Collecting herself, she giggled as she walked home, cutting through an ally. She was unaware of her surroundings until a rat quietly fell from a fire escape and landed on her head, clutching a business card in it’s tiny muzzle. Samantha, of course, screamed, and tripping on her own feet, went down, landing square on her back with the rather large rat straddling her face. She screamed again, clawing at the rat but in panic, always missing, not that it mattered anyway, it leapt off, leaving the two by three card balanced on her nose as it scurried down the ally. She did a little scurrying herself in the opposite direction, her hand clasping the card, not fully sure of what it was, just wanting to escape and go home.

She rounded the corner, shivering, and collapsed on the sidewalk. Her back to the wall, she let out a high-pitched squeak, wiping her face until raw. "I fucking hate rats!", she screamed mostly to herself, getting a few odd stares from passerbys however as she rose, calming herself. Samantha looked down at her hand, realizing something thin was digging into her palm; a business card, all white except for the blue lettering:

Circe’s Costume Shop

Animal Costumes Our Specialty

Samantha looked over the card front and back: no address or hint of location, no phone number, nothing but the name. She flipped the card over again and gave up, putting it into her pocket, when she looked up; however, a white sign with blue lettering glared at her, a confused expression washing over her face as

Circe’s Costume Shop

Animal Costumes Our Specialty

beamed down a florescent light upon her. She cautiously walked up to the glassed double doors, slowly pushed the right one open and was hit with the smell of mothballs, some generic musty odor, and, the strongest, cats. Walking around the cramped interior she could see why, cats were everywhere: on folded costumes, on the floor, sleeping, walking around, jumping off or onto counters, and few even balanced themselves on the metal racks that held up other costumes. Samantha made her way through rows and rows of hanging zebra suits, foxes, wolves, and the odd devil, vampire, witch costumes as well, coming to a cash counter with no one there. She was about the look around some more when something small and hard poked the small of her back.

"Down here, deary."

Samantha turned around, facing an aged woman who could of been the headmistress if the headmistress was about one hundred years older. She walked past Samantha, favoring her cane for balance, and, after petting a few of the cats that were assumingly hers, turned around and banged her cane on the wooden floor twice. "So what do ya want?"

Samantha stiffened, "I assume your Circe?"

The old woman nodded.

"Then I would like to see your finest, rarest costume."

Circe smirked, sending the left side of her face into folds, "No."

Samantha’s eyes widened, and once again, her hands clenched into fists, "What? Do you know who I am? I cou-

"Deary, shut up." Circe interrupted. She hobbled up to Samantha slowly, poking her in the stomach with her cane, "I know who you are, and if I can stand your flack I’ll show you your costume. ‘k?

Samantha swallowed her pride, if only because of this was the last shop in town and because of the rat attack she was drained, so she gave in and slumped her shoulders, "Fine."

"Good, good", the old woman smiled, "Follow me deary, follow me, and watch out for my...mmmhehehehe...pets. She lifted a swing-door that lead behind the cash counter, leading Samantha through a door behind that, and from there through a sun lit hallway which extended what seemed far beyond the stores perimeters. Samantha looked around, admitting to herself this was kind of creepy: the hall was only gray brick and quite narrow, the only light coming from skylights on the ceiling, and even then, there wasn’t much. At about forty feet Samantha was hit with the stench of brine, the old woman didn’t even seem to notice as she hobbled along in front of Samantha, it soon; however, got to the point where she was gagging and pulled the old woman over by what was so far the only door they had come to in this ridiculous hall.

"Wha...what is that?" Samantha gagged again.

"Hm? What’s what, deary?" A low growl came from behind the door, followed by what sounded like several more like the same growl multiplied; something moved behind the door as well, something wet, something big. "Ooooooh...her. That’s just Scylla. Pay her no mind. She’s just been a bit cranky...for awhile."

"Is that your dog or something?"

"Heh...heh...haha...hahahahahahahahahahaha!" Circe feel to her knees laughing, tears now coming down her cheeks, "Hahahahaha...Yes! She’s my dog!" She stood up, shakingly rising, and beat her cane on the door, "You hear that, Scylla, you’re my dog! Hahahahahaha." The growling grew fierce and whatever was behind that door lashed out at Circe, making the door visibly bend when it slammed against it. Circe just kept laughing and walked off, waving for Samantha, who gave the door a wide avoidance, to follow her.

"In here, deary", Circe opened a door at the end of the drawn-out hall, nothing special, just a simple wooden door. They past through, Samantha first, into another dimly lit room; however, this room was almost a warehouse, filled with rows and rows of costumes. Samantha looked around, examining this costume and that, all were exquisite. Each one was an animal, but much more luxurious than the ones out front: each one was covered in what looked, and felt, like real fur, the proportions were exact except for certain designs that would fit a human, and, in a strange way, they felt alive, warm even. Each costume had a mask hanging over it on the rack, and like the costumes, felt warm to the touch, except the only modification to the mask would of been corresponding size to match the dimensions of the costumes; i.e. the masks were in proportion. Samantha looked around for what must of been twenty minutes, pawing through costumes, until she looked up, realizing Circe was gone.

"Um...Circe?..."

"Right here, deary!", Circe popped out from behind a fox and a pig costume, landing about two inches in front of Samantha, holding out a two-tone, black and white horse costume and mask. Samantha let out a small scream, stepping back. "I think this is appropriate...irony is always fun, don’t you think?"

"AH! Jesus, don’t do that!", Samantha raised an eyebrow, "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, deary, nothing. Just take this and have...fun...with my blessing.", Circe smiled an uneven, yellowed smile.

Samantha took the costume carefully, watching the old woman place the mask, "head" would be a better word, on top of the folded pile. "Right...how much?"

"Oh, no no no no, I wouldn’t hear of it. Just take it now and...you’ll pay...later."

Samantha rolled her eyes, "Uh huh...whatever." She walked back over to the door, shifting the costume in her arms to free a hand. Circe came running up behind her, pushing back a rack of coats to expose a second door, identical to the first.

"Take this one, much faster." She opened the door and beyond lay the cash counter, cheap costumes, and front door.

"But...but...the hall...", Samantha stammered, almost dropping the costume.

"I told you, deary, much faster. Now scoot.", Circe poked Samantha in the rear with her cane until Samantha scooted out the front door. "See you soon...hahahahahaha!" Samantha looked back but kept walking in the direction of home.

"Crazy old bat."

Four hours later

Samantha sat on her bed, the horse costume beside her, laid out. She looked it over, strangely, it looked like a perfect fit, tailor-made to her height and dimensions. Her hand brushed over it, her fingers running though the fur; it still felt warm, and...almost like it was breathing, though so shallow it still seemed to be her imagination. A buzzer went off, her alarm clock, telling her it was almost time for her guests to arrive. She broke her fascination with the costume, got up, stripped, and picked it up, looking for a zipper. Finding none, she poked around the collar for an opening of some kind, finally she tugged at the collar hoping for Velcro, but a tear appeared mid-collar and ran down to the small of the costume’s back. Samantha was taken back for a second, afraid she may of damaged it, and tried to, purely a panicked reaction, pressed the two separated sides together hoping for the best; to her surprise, they held. She did this a few more times, just to be safe, and after five or so minutes slipped her leg in. Wonderful was not a fit word to describe it. From the chill of her skin in the open air to the warmth, and almost pulsating, tightness of the horse leg was better than any warm shower.

After she had slipped in fully, she was in heaven, the costume felt just like her own skin: warm and flexible. There was; however, one problem: the feet, but most importantly the hands, were hooves. How was she supposed to walk, much less pick up anything, she thought? Samantha overlooked the problem for the moment though as she looked in the full-length mirror that was adjacent to her bed; it really was a flattering costume...just...it started to become hot...very hot. Samantha collapsed, her legs unable to hold her and she watched in horror as her knees inverted. She, of course, screamed, though there was no pain, not even when her stomach extended and broadened and her chest flattened, also broadening. She brought her hands down, which were hooves now, and nearly passed out as she watched the muscles in her arms grow under the fur.

"Deary, deary, deary..."

Samantha pivoted her neck, which now had extended nearly a foot, in the direction of her mirror where the familiar voice had come from.

"Hidee ho. Wow...you’re not looking too hot.", Circe stood, two dimensional, in the mirror, though now sporting a figure and face of a woman in her twenties.

Samantha just responded in tears and a small choking sound in the back of her throat.

Circe stepped through the mirror as if through air, softly landing on the girl’s carpet. Kneeling down, she patted Samantha’s forehead, "I know, I know. It all seems so unfair doesn’t it?"

"W...why?", the horse-girl choked out.

"Oh...", Circe smiled, "You really need to learn your Greek history. In a nutshell, I’m a goddess...well half-goddess technically...and in the past, I admit, I’ve been vengeful, but a certain sailor, you may know him, Odysseus, changed me...somewhat. And just so you know, deary", Circe leaned in, smirking, "your horse was a lawyer, the rat was a used-car salesman, and the cats...well there’s just too many to count of those. Trust me, you get tired of pigs after a few hundred years. And why this particular costume you may ask?", the goddess stroked Samantha’s fur, "Well...let’s just say lawyers make very convincing arguments." Circe stood up, walking around Samantha, and sat on the bed, picking up the mask. "Only more thing, deary, and your sentence will begin, and yes, it is a sentence, I won’t keep you indefinitely...feel lucky. Now, we can’t have you with a horse’s body and a human face...not your best look; so here you go." Circe moved in, adjusting the mask on Samantha’s face, and stood back as the eye-holes, hollow at first, filled, and the mouth opened, whinnying loudly. "Oh hush.", as Circe batted the now fully formed horse on the head.

It hushed.

"Good, good. Now, be a good girl and stand up...good, good, takes a little getting used to at first, I know. Now," She held out reins, fitting and securing them over Samantha’s head, and placing the bit in her mouth, "Good, now bite down. Ok then, we’re off." She lead Samantha through the mirror just as the doorbell rang downstairs. "Hahahahaha, it’s stud time!"

Disapproving whinny.

"Oh, hush. I’m only joking. Geez, you’d think you would have a better sense of humor after all of this."

The doorbell rang again, now for an empty house.