His body mass continued to increase, making his balance become precarious, and he began stumbling about the field to stay on his two feet. As he did, it became less and less clear to him why he was trying to remain standing and increase the pain, that whatever was befalling him caused. Confusion spread through his shrinking mind, as his body grew in both size and strangeness. He knew what was going on was bad, as his fingers coalesced, losing their individuality and feeling.
Chris’ chest began to barrel into a gut that a bipedal creature could never sustain indefinitely, and as it strained against his shirt, he pushed it off with his ineffectual and growing hands. His legs were warping along with his arms, as his calves began to decrease in length, his thighs increased in size and width, and his feet lengthened as well. Like his hands his toes began to combine, becoming completely numb and unmovable, prompting him to free himself of his sandals.
The tension in his spine climaxed in an explosive thrust above his rear, and a tail of long hair burst from the breached clothing. His lower areas began to grow and shape with his changing skeleton and other internal parts. As his face pushed out further, and the scent of the horses moved into his expanding nostrils, Chris knew, he was becoming a horse. His neck elongated with those thoughts and a mane began to extend from his hair. He hollered for help, but knew nobody would come. No one was there.

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Chris is © to me.