Betsy's Farm Days: Chubbytaur Ride (WIP Preview)

   After a harsh winter, Betsy savored the feeling of the warm spring wind whipping around her neck-length brown hair. Brushing aside the wild strands, she let the bright sun shine down on her tanned, freckled face and give some much needed light to her muscular arms. To celebrate the lovely weather, she had replaced her usual work attire with a sundress covered in prints of yellow sunflowers that showed off her impressive curves. Enjoying the weather as she wandered about the field, she almost regretted having to turn back to enter the work shed. However, she knew that if she wanted to experience the wonderful day to its fullest, she was going to have to go through some changes.

   Entering the shed, she found Arin just where she left him. The scrawny farmhand was busy squatting down to patch up the holes in a worn out mattress. Too focused on his work, he didn’t notice Betsy as she snuck up behind him. Kneeling down, she ruffled up his short brown hair to get his attention.

   “Hello Ms. Bevoin, I mean Betsy,” Arin said, trying in vain to fix his messed up strands.

   “How we doing darling?” she asked, squatting down to examine his handiwork.

   “It’s rough, but I think I’ve got it,” he said, stowing away his well-used roll of duct tape. “I don’t know who used this last, but I have a hard time believing someone like you would make someone sleep out in a shed like this.”

   “Of course I didn’t. This wasn’t for people to sleep on. It was for a horse named Butter Bowl.”

   “I didn’t know your family raised horses.”

   “We didn’t,” Betsy replied, standing up and brushing dirt off her skirt. “What you’re seeing here is one of the few artifacts of my daddy’s attempt to get into the business. He got as far as getting a mare, but that’s about it.”

   “What happened?”

   “Well, there’s a reason we named her Butter Bowl. One look at her and my momma fell in love. She spoiled the mare silly, giving her sugar cubes for most of her meals until she was about as heavy as three horses put together. Butter Bowl still gave rides, but the most you could get out of her was a slow trot around the field. At the very least, we didn’t have to worry about her running away from us.”

   “So that’s your plan? To try the whole horse ranch thing again?”

   Betsy let out a slight laugh, still getting used to Arin’s naivety. “This old farmstead is the last place I’d want to even attempt that. No, I have something else in mind. Something to celebrate this fine Spring day.”

   “By lying on an old, horse-scented mattress?”

   “It’ll come into play a little later,” she said, hoisting up her bag. “For now, come with me. Think it’s about time we get things rolling.”

   “Yes mam,” he replied, dutifully following her outside.

   Reaching the center of grassy field, Betsy dropped her bag and began shuffling through its contents. Smiling as she grasped what she was looking for, she pulled out her hand to reveal a jar of sugar cubes held between her fingers. “Here it is,” she said, holding it up to Arin. “I even used the same recipe as my momma to make these.”

   Staring at Betsy and the jar for moments, it finally dawned on Arin what her plan was. “You’re going to turn yourself into a horse?”

   “Kind of. Full on horses are surprisingly tricky. Most shapeshifters tend to avoid going further than 50%.”

   Arin lowered his head in thought for a moment. “Then that means…you’re going to change into a centaur?”

   “Bingo,” Betsy replied, congratulating him by further ruffling up his hair. “And that leads us to step one of my plan for the day. Sit back and watch me do what I do best.” Easily slipping off her dress, she handed it off to Erin and let her bare feet touch the warm grass.

   “What do mean by step one?” Erin asked, still getting a little flushed at the sight of Betsy’s bare breasts and butt.

   “You should know by now that half the fun comes from surprises along the way,” Betsy said, popping the cork off the bottle. “Trust me, alright?”

   Erin raised a hand to protest, but quickly brought it back down. “If you say so. Just…don’t make it too crazy.”

   “You know I can’t keep that promise,” Betsy replied, popping the first sugar cube in her mouth.

   As Betsy let the cube of sugar slide across her tongue, she began to understand why Butter Bowl was addicted to them. Popping another square of concentrated sweetness in her mouth, she could see herself copying the lazy mare’s lifestyle. Laying on a mattress all day while her needs were met, fattening herself up with an endless supply of sugar cubes. Her spoiled lifestyle would only take a break to provide short rides around the field with the lucky few she would allow on her back. Swallowing a handful of cubes to empty out the jar, she glanced over at Erin and let her powers take hold.