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Horse Girl Journal (NSFW CW: Contains grotesque body horror, torture, dehumanization, bestiality, pregnancy, sexual situations, and non-consent.)

Posted by Panayiotis Lines on

NSFW CONTENT WARNING: grotesque body horror, torture, dehumanization, bestiality, pregnancy, sexual situations, and consenting to having horrible things done to you by someone you love. Read with caution.

This journal was written in a play through of Horse Girl by Samuel Mui. If you are interested in learning more or supporting the project you can do so now.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/leyline-press/horse-girl

I wrote this journal and posted it anonymously when I first played Horse Girl after purchasing the original version off of Itch.  I was in an abusive BDSM relationship for several years and have blocked out a lot of the memory of from it. It is a time in my life that is incredibly difficult for me to process now. I found Horse Girl as a means to explore that through the medium of games which I love and it helped me process a small portion of it.

This is my personal experience of Horse Girl. I am not the creator of the game who has their own understanding of it and I do not speak for them. Horse Girl, and games in general, are not in my view therapy or a replacement for them. I am currently in therapy and have been for two years and that has helped me a lot. I would advice anyone struggling to seek out professional support, though I am very much aware of how difficult that can be to get. I am incredibly lucky.

I don't advice people who have suffered abuse play this game, it's deeply triggering, however I did personally find it useful at the time I encountered it.

Beyond that I think it is valuable as a piece of art and exploration of TTRPG's as a medium so I am sharing this today. I am also incredibly proud to be able to support Samuel Mui as a indie TTRPG creator in publishing a physical version of the zine through Leyline Press.

This is not easy reading, please approach with caution.

Panny

Month 1

The first day I entered his house was a simple one. We just talked. He asked me my thoughts on the Israel Palestine conflict for some reason and I responded with my various takes that I thought made me sound intelligent and nuanced about the issue. Inside I felt rather a fraud. He broadly agreed with me but challenged me on a couple of points. I'm scared to disagree with him.

I must have been angry at him about one of those challenges. Later on I was tidying and he made some off hand comment and I called him an intellectual snob. He grew angry at that and we shouted at each other we made up quickly and embraced though.

A few weeks passed. I found myself thinking of my old friends in the quieter moments. Jordan always fucking hated me I doubt he'd care what I'm doing now. Melissa was kind but I felt she was rather simple. I imagine she's found another friend to latch onto. They never really got me, I was always on the outside looking in.

The month ended well. We cooked a dinner, he smiled at me. I like it when he's happy with me. It's been a calm quiet month. Not what I expected. There's love and connection building here but he's not forceful, he's kind despite the angry outbursts. I feel content. First time I have in years.

Month 2


I feel this month may be more intense....

The first surgery happened today. He said I was ready. My collarbone removed. He put me under first. I didn't feel a thing. My new appearance scared me at first. I couldn't move until the injections came. I'm woozy a lot of the time. His training is harsh. I feel angry with him at times but I try to remember how calm I was with him. It will be better when its done.

I feel vulnerable with him in my slowly changing form. I ask him to tell me what he really thinks of me. He tells me I'm kind, loyal and fiercely intelligent. He tells me I'm lazy and wasteful and slovenly at times. He tells me I deserve love and this is the way.

Is this some kind of punishment I wonder at times? Is what I' doing a result of when mother screamed at me for smashing the vase and I was locked in my room dark and alone. Memories like that haunt me.

Mother raised me and my sister alone. She was harsh. Wanted me to be a Chemist. A good profession. Well. I'm harsh too, on myself, the training is harsh but I'm growing stronger by the day.

Memories haunting me a lot this month. We grew up in a comfortable suburb. Dinner every Sunday. Roast meat. I feel my own body growing strong like one of those beef steaks we used to cook. I always felt alone at dinner, wondering about the cow and who they were before they were food. They didn't understand why I cared and it was all we had to eat.

My transformation was getting good. The training was helping. The pain had stopped. I was starting to like my appearance. I got bold again but he shut me down. Told me how much longer we had to go before my full transformation was complete. I loved him for that and surrendered it all for him.

Month 3

He's giving me lots of time to adjust to the collarbone changes. We watched a film today. Black Beauty. It was sort of a joke between us. I love being with him, I feel so calm when its good.

This month he removed my hair. Gave me a mane. I feel his ownership of me growing. Its beautiful in its own way. Much better than before. Mother would not approve.

Month 4

It's my birthday. He remembers to buy me my favourite thing – White Chocolate Truffles. We are all each others world.

My birthday brings back memories of home. In a strange rash decision I demand to be able to visit my friends one last time. Melissa should know what's happened to me. He threatens to kill her if I go. He knows people. Has ways. Nobody will find the body.

I love how he goes so far to protect me. He knew that Melissa wouldn't understand and wanted to give me a good reason to stay rather than fall back to my old ways before I met him.

Food therapy has started. The white truffles were the last human food I was to eat. Breakfast is grass now. Pills help me digest it. If I am good I get an apple or a carrot. I feel. Okay. Oddly. My stomach is calm. Sometimes he eats with me, his human food. Is he taunting me? I don't think so. He loves me. We are different but one.

Grandma used to take me to see horses. They lived in a great farm in the countryside. It was always nice getting away from the city. Even mum would relax there. I loved those walks. They died when I was 6 maybe 7. Mother didn't even tell me. I didn't get to mourn.


Id be a better mother than that. My foals will be loved.

He says I'm ready for a full facial elongation now. I don't feel ready. He reassures me. He gives me an apple and puts me to sleep.

I awake covered in bandages. My face sore, painful some time. But there's lots of painkillers. This isn't about pain it's about love. He tells me that. I love him more than ever.

He wakes me up with hot, sweet soup. A special treat. I cant eat solids with my bandage. He unwraps my bandages to tend to them. Makes sure I'm not infected. He doesn't let me see. But my face feels different. I fall in love with him more every day. I sob and he holds me. We are one like in a fairy tale.

Month 5

Hard training starts now. He doesn't want me to grow soft. Every day I learn to be his horse. He has me up at 5 riding me around his gardens. I start to feel used. Angry. Degraded. Its hard but the growth is good. I've never felt so strong. Never felt so attractive.

With saddling comes the trot therapy. I can no longer walk upright he forces me down. Its hard at first. He gets angry at me as I stumble. Calls me a useless mare and beats my legs. It works. He's working me into shape. Should I be resisting? Its too late now even if I wanted to I need to see this to the end. Mother always said to see everything to the end.

He knows he's been tough on me but he makes it up to me. His fingers caress my strong haunches. He writes me a poem titled beauty. His touch is like snowdrops.

I wonder what George would think of me now. I thought we'd be together for ever. We met at 16. He cheated of course. But maybe I pushed him away. I shouldn't have kissed his friend but a kiss is far less than a fuck. I wonder if that hadn't all blown up if we'd be happy together now.

No. This is my life now. I'm happier than ever and George is just a distant fading memory turned to ash.

This is my life now. My transformation near completion. He showed me my face. It was beautiful.

I am going to stop writing now. This was just a way to process for the girl I once was but I am no longer her. I am now his.

Goodbye Emily.

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