Bruce didn’t wake up in the bed he’d fallen asleep in–instead, the sun beamed down on him through the thin cracks between the old barn walls, as he began to stir on his bed of straw, stretching out his legs as he opened his eyes. He’d…slept really soundly, harder than he had in a long time, and it took him awhile to realize that he wasn’t imagining things, that he really was out in the barn, alone in a stall, lying on his side here, just thinking about…nothing in particular. After all, he didn’t need to think about anything. All he had to do was wait for breakfast–which would probably be here soon…though he might be able to sleep for a little while longer, if he just shut his eyes and relaxed…
But Bruce didn’t do that, because Bruce could feel that this was off–he could still remember, distantly, that he had fallen asleep in a bed the night before, that everything telling him this was normal was…wrong, somehow. He focused, and things came back to him, slowly–the deal he’d made with Jay coming back into focus, and with a loud grunt, he realized that it had happened! Jay had changed him in the night–he hadn’t even waited for him to wake up to do it. Part of him couldn’t help but feel a bit violated, that he hadn’t even had a chance to prepare for this, but the other part of him was so…well, content, that it was difficult for Bruce to muster the emotional energy to really care. Still, he wanted to see what had changed, exactly–he tried to roll up, but his hands and feet didn’t seem to be working the way they remembered–he focused on his hands, and saw that, well…he didn’t have hands.
Instead of his usual, thick arms, he had legs–two front pig legs, ending with thick black trotters where his hands should be. He bent around, and saw that his legs were also no longer mostly human as they had been–they were just his back legs. It looked like, unless Jay changed his mind later, that Bruce was going to be spending the day on all fours for the time being. Wondering how he’d be able to manage, he went back to trying to roll upright, and it proved easier than he was expecting. His body…knew how to manage well enough with the four legs, and so it was only a few minutes before he was standing on them all, shaking a bit, getting used to the new sensation of his trotters against the ground, and once he was stable, he tried walking.
The stall wasn’t very large, but it was large enough that he could get a few paces back and forth. He only fell down once, when he was trying to hard to make his legs work how he thought they should work, but once he stopped focusing on it so much, it became more natural–this was…just how he walked, after all–or that’s what the new chunk of his mind told him, even though the old Bruce knew it wasn’t true, not really. He took the time to examine the rest of his body, though it was difficult without a mirror, but not too much else seemed to have changed overall–his body seemed a bit chunkier perhaps, but it was hard to tell if that was because of something changing, or just because of how his new body looked, it was hard to tell. One thing that was definitely different was his skin tone. Where before he had been pink all over, his skin was now mottled in a piebald pattern, with large brown spots all over him. He remembered that Jay had told him once how handsome a piebald pig looked, and apparently, handsome had also meant sexy.
He turned circles a couple of times, trying to quell the panic in his chest, but eventually he realized there was nothing he could do, especially without actual hands, and he plopped back down on the straw, figuring he would just have to wait for Jay to come see him, hopefully with breakfast in tow, because one thing Bruce knew for sure was that he was hungry–hungrier than he could ever really recall being, in fact. Left with nothing but his thoughts in the stall, all Bruce could do was think about this, about what Jay wanted out of this exactly. He knew that Bruce had always liked it when Bruce pretended to be a real pig on all fours, but was that what he really wanted from him? To…be a pig? It seemed…simple, somehow, but then, what exactly had he expected Jay to do to him? More importantly, he supposed, did he like it himself? That was the bar, after all–Jay was doing this to show Bruce not only what Jay wanted, but to prove to Bruce that he wanted it too. But so far, the only thing Bruce was feeling was, well, boredom. Well, boredom and hunger, and increasingly, horniness. Perhaps worst of all, there was nothing he could do about any of them.
The minutes ticked by. Or, he imagined them ticking by. He didn’t really have a measure of time in the stall, aside from the impossibly slow shift in the bars of light from the sun on the side of the barn. He got up and paced occasionally, had some water from the basin in the stall, and mostly just…laid around, feeling the needs inside of him building and welling, taking up more and more of his attention, until he wasn’t sure if he was more desperate for food or a fuck, or just both of them together. Mostly, he was just eager for something to happen–why was Jay making him wait? Why just change him and leave him here? Was there some…point to it? Bruce realized, then, the sheer scope of the power he’d handed to Jay when he’d given him the phone and the app. He only had Jay’s word, after all, that he would change him back after today, and while Jay was trustworthy…given the revelations of the day before, who knew what Jay was thinking? He called out, after a while, relieved that he could, at least, still speak words, though his voice had shifted down into something more guttural, and his words were always accompanied by a series of grunts and oinks that he couldn’t control. His cries were never met with an answer though, and so he waited, feeling his stomach churn around an empty pit, his cock and ass aching…and finally, he heard it, the familiar sound of the barn door opening, and he scrambled up onto all fours, squealing, desperate for attention.