When Just Boared by Life
Nerd, geek, the drip, dip, theses are words that describe what people think of those who do not fit in to what the popular opinions be for a person to dress and live life with a certain amount of finesse. I was this type of high school student, the too large, uncoordinated, and not caring for sports, I became alienated.
Strange it was to me that when the senior year and basketball homecoming dance at school, who would seek me out of the crowd, she ignoring all her rich and or handsome suitors, Alison asked me to take her to the dance. She, the runner-up to the senior prom queen had her hot date give her the brush-off for not winning a title. She was down in the dumps, so much that she was willing to link up with about any fellow classmate that might ask her to come with him. This is when I happened to be there, she seeing as knowing me to be as much a gentleman, she made her choice and doing so, it instantly elevated my status at school.
Alison was really great, it was easy to see why the hunk men of the football team liked her as a cheerleader and sweetheart, and she was for them an easy mark. Something unexpected happened during the school dance, Alison asking her new friend to take her home early. I did not understand her reasoning, but being the gentleman again; I did as asked, taking her home. One the way, Alison began her learned ritual as what the team player liked her to do, she slipping down in her seat, got on her knees on the car floor and went for what on me was something she liked to toy and fondle.
Our drive to her house had some rather violent swerving moments, and when arriving discovered her parents were out that night to visit friends. We were alone, unbelievably alone, and she being hot had made me know lust.
I parked the loaned family car where she suggested, inside the garage as she got out of the car and rushed quick to press the button and lower the door granting us privacy. Everything from there on seems as much a blur in my mind. Alison came at me with intent, she wanted and expected of me to be as aggressive as was any a man on the team, or teams.
Willful, she was easy to sedate, as was I willing to be for her as sexual fodder. Like in school the teacher having first learned the program of study was there to show, teach, and then test the individuals as what they could comprehend. We together on her bed were so busy learning one about the other, we in our thrill failed to take note of her parents coming home after midnight. Her father found his parking spot inside the garage as taken by another car. They as parents to Alison knew from past experience what to expect. As I was at a crucial point of strenuous stroking of the heartstrings in Alison, in walked her loving mother, she doing a late night bed check.
Too explain and give reason for our actions, Alison played it as being innocent and suggesting it was I that wooed her home and into bed. She became as much an accuser as was her parents to my parents, it seemed that no matter how good a person is, they get caught once doing what is not acceptable, and they stand judged.
All tries to explain seemed worthless, even if never getting the chance to climax until later, made a mess, but nobody knew of it but disgraced me. People will think what they wish, and talk, they look to those in authority to be as quick to judge. News that demeans a person tends to spread quickly, people, friends too, like to read about all the sordid details, as if the reporter assigned was there in that bedroom and taking dictation.
Sex and the act of pleasure seeking is a commonality in high school, hormones run high, and if not caught doing it, all who try and learn go one to try, do, and enjoy life. This is where I in my life path came to a halt. The newspapers stated the needs of the public. The school principle added his two cents, he expelling me in my senior year, forcing me to take the year over again, humiliated then into some sort of social submission.
Defamed and forced out of school early, not allowed to do home study, not allowed to graduate, everything that seemed so well planned fell apart. Family and friends began judging without asking, and for this reason, dear Dad thought it wise for his son to do what his father did to turn a wayward son into a man.
A parental argument ensued for several weeks until father stood his ground and forced mother to agree. She I knew wanted nothing to do with our family eccentric, crotchety old Uncle Ned, he never venturing away from his small farm, never coming to visit us, but father going to pay a visit, would stay there the whole day and into the night, he visiting?
Uncle Ned was rarely mentioned by anyone of the other aunts and uncles, as if he like I was a family outcast. Proper then when father came to me and forcibly informed me of my change of residence, me going to spend all summer with Uncle Ned.
Edmond "Ned" Flycatcher is what I read his name printed boldly on the rural postal box setting at the end of his long driveway. He had a kooky last name that sticks still in the mind and say a lot about what he did, doing more than operating a small farm, he was a fly catcher! Flies as those in a family that were a pest, he would capture and with time change attitudes, giving direction, the pest would return home different than when they had left. No more would they flutter about in trouble or making problems, but from what father said about his uncle, he was a man among men, a rare commodity, someone I would learn to trust as he would teach the basics of what is life.
Six hour drive from home to the farm, I sat in the car sulking, wondering if from shoveling crap and feeding animals if such work would change my mind and my learned attitudes. Our arriving saw what I rather expected, seeing there a pasture fenced as from rural road to the barn, with house beside it. Several more buildings of various farm use there too, but the small red brick house stood out as all neat and decorated around with flowers and large Maple trees giving shade.
Dad greeting Uncle Ned, they talking, reminisced, it was uncle meeting his nephew for the first time ever, he made mention of when dad came there for a visit at the farm-ranch. He, my dad, was attending then the university at Laramie, but for what reason he was there seemed then as undecided. A visit to Uncle Ned changed all that. Dad said he learned to think highly of Uncle Ned, even if mother thought of him as a crackpot of a nasty old man. Dad acted as his leaving the family disgrace there with Ned was a decision made by all involved, me included.
Dad did all the talking, he explaining to Uncle Ned as of how his son was lacking in sex education matters, faulted to which father took all the blame. He told the established story of how his foolhardy son did turn to fondling to finding the answers of life with a pretty girl. Embarrassing to say the least, but not allowed to speak up while Dad remained there. Dad then shook my hand as if assuring his son he would do well by doing what we agreed, even if in fact neither of my parents asked my opinion on anything.
Wholly unexpected, as fortunately when dad drove away and left me there, Uncle Ned said little about my past and suggested I walk around the farm to get my bearings.
What I had expected of Uncle Ned was what mother thought of him, he as an elderly old codger. Uncle was the complete opposite of what I was led to expect. He was in his late seventies, but well dressed, drove a convertible sports car and had several other vehicles he used for farm business activities. He would ride a fiery stallion he named "Hostile Warrior", and had tagged to the walls of his kitchen many a county fair ribbons for bull riding, calf roping; some as recent as dated from one year previous.
Oddly friendly, as considering all dad said of what his son did, Uncle Ned made no direct mentioning of it, but thought it a nice gesture that I have the same bedroom that my father had when he was there for his visit.
Entering the room I saw pictures everywhere, a montage of wondrous years when his son was at home and mimicked a loving father in all he accomplished. The room was untouched since that terrible day when at the last day of the Vietnam War, a stray bullet killed his son, and ended his family heritage. My eying of the many pictures told much. I had a cousin I never knew, he older but from what all was there of remind and be remembered, I felt as if I had met a fine form of a young man.
A walk about and return to relax in the house, it was later afternoon when Uncle called me to come for dinner. I went as called, considered as an honored guest, he being genuinely friendly, a good cook, and after helping me to wash the dishes, we walking outside, toured the two big barns. Given a grand tour, while looking around saw there that elegant red brick house and the farm buildings, they had aluminum siding, metal roofs, and not a scratch or dent anywhere.
Soon noticed was a black horse acting as if excited or nervous, Uncle introduced me to what he said to be a black devil in the form of a stallion horse. He told how they rode together every morning, and doing so went for a communing with all nature as they crossed few miles of open range. I was informed nicely but commanded to stay away from this one horse, Uncle alone was the only human the animal trusted.
Farm life is different than living city style, as with an late afternoon dinner time means you go to bed just after sundown. Early to bed and early to rise makes a young man alert and hungry. Come the morning of the first full day at the farm began with hearing the voice of Mrs. Tweedy. She came to awaken the young guest. A good friend to Uncle Ned, she would arrive in the early morning hours to gather chicken eggs and clean, box, and sell them on a sales route. She as uncle called her was an old gal friend, she would make us breakfast, and once served would bid us goodbye and leave.
What nervous misgivings there were from mom grumbling about that nasty old man and of living out in the boondocks of Wyoming, she had her son expecting something terrible lurked waiting. Expected to have chores assigned, Uncle said he had an appointment with some men, as he then mounted and raced off across the back pasture on his A.T.C. Ultimately I learned he had a fence needing repair and went to manage the men doing the work.
His leaving me there and alone presented time to look around, as wandering became more like snooping into the affairs of Uncle Ned, he having some he would like to keep buried. I entered one barn, the larger of the two; I discovered it had a basement lower level. A stairway built off to one side of the main floor of the barn, would lead me down into the dank, humid darkness. A flashlight left hung on a nail served well, as if used too by uncle, once in hand it helped to see down the dark stairway and of what all might be in the basement. Meandering about, saw a steel door, and opening it there was a room or office, it having books, pictures, a desk, chairs, and many trophies.
Walking into the room and looking around, saw a blinking red light which marked where to find a light switch. A flick of the switch and the lights glowed brightly. In the center of the room set a cherry wood desk as if it were the primary reason for the room being there. Several bookcases stood with accounting ledges and various other books. Trophies and blue, red, and gold ribbons abounded the walls, telling of awards given for quality animals bred by uncle on his farm.
Looking was to begin to admire a man that mother thought was a recluse eccentric old codger. He seemed anything but of what she thought.
Another door there beckoned its opening, and with opening it the smell of leather then permeated the room. Peering inside, the light there came on with the opening of the door, I saw a dusty collection of racks and wooden pegs holding or hung on them were all sorts of leather strapping, harnesses for horses, halters, bridles, and collars galore, as standing on end in one corner was the neck yoke for an Ox..
Interest was peaking, as becoming inquisitive did begin to poke about, the desk set coated over with the sifted dust and hay that came down from the barn floor above. Intrigued with what might be in the drawers, I did open the top right hand drawer. There filling the length and width of the drawer, lay a book. Lifting the heavy book out of the snugly fitted drawer, and placing it on the desk, flipped it open beginning with the front cover.
There on the first page of this book or ledger, as written in broad print from a quill pen and ink said, "Granted unto friend Ned be the power to decide and bring on change for any reason!"
Flipping one page after another, I stood there mesmerized seeing there a photo of that black stallion, he the one uncle warned me not to go near. Paging further, was an index that had a detailed example of what each line of information represented. As reading from top of a page to the bottom last line written told of varied animal breeds, a date, a name of each animal, the names of farms, ranchers, or scientific companies where were sent or sold the animals, even mentioned was of what became of the animals Uncle Ned had or held for an owner/donor, even shown was the dates the animal finally died.
Moving on to the next page it had a pasted photo and below it was information written about the animal. A quick look at the book, it had page guides, owing to sections of the book dealing with alphabetized breeds of animals as if the ledger was a history book about what uncle did during his life working and owning a farm.
The book sparked a strange kind of interest, and taking a seat there in the swivel chair, I began to page through and look at photos as well read what was written in the book. Beginning with the tabbed section on cattle, I looked at a picture of a large bull. In generality what was written about him began with a name. The name was not some singular name as given to a pet, but a name as if a personal name; something already did not seem right. The date there as to when the animal must have arrived here on the farm, and behind that as if a memo some six months later was another date. Dated, 06-11-49 as written, and the name of the bull, he being returned happily to his grateful parents?
Flipping a page there was another photo of a bull, this one looking as if smaller, more compact, all black. Here too another name, a date and then a date of some four years later, along with a note the animal was leased to the Wilson farm for breed purposes, but by accident they sold it along with the herd serviced, all sent to a feedlot operative and slaughter.
Flipping next page and several more, there was a grouping of bulls, no cows. These bulls were red with white markings, and the photos of them I noted they had in a couple, brass rings poked in the bridge of the bull nostrils. Named bulls on these pages that had ringed noses made odd mention as of the date arrived, but no date when sold, instead a notation of the implied personality decided as preferable to liking farm life and asked not to ever return home!
Further notations as for this bull there was a complied record of numbers of sired calves, all of the Hereford breed. Paging on and reading about so many animals and their owners, a rare few animals remained with uncle for more than six months. In the section dealing with goats, a pair of them were at the farm but just for a month, and then notated they were reluctantly relinquished back to the donors.
Cattle, Capra, Equine, the breeds and list numbered maybe close to a thousand animals, but so many and seemingly in the past twenty-four years. The oddity of the number of animals being as Uncle Ned was born at the farm owned there by his father, residing as working and since owning it, he was in age some seventy years old. Why all these animal trades and leasing for the more recent and previous years?
Getting up and walking around the room, took note of some pictures hanging up were of the same animals a named in the big book. I took note of breeds and names previously mentioned near the photo of the animal, had written again as of which harness, halter, bridle, or odd apparatus was primarily used to keep those altered under control. Strange that certain animal pictures were when studied and then compared to the photos that were as well hung on the wall, the larger a framed picture of an animal, defined it as if they were really exceptional or especially dear to the heart of Uncle Ned.
One took special attention, that of a large Hereford red bull, with a tag label placed under the glass, it read, "Norton proud to service."
Eying closely the photo and so noted the large leather strap hung around the bullish neck, the same strap and bull bell as one setting on a shelf there in the room. Walking to where the neck halter lay next to the brass bell, with some exertion, I did pick it up. Holding up the broad leather strap or like a collar, thought for a fleeting moment to put it over my shoulders and around the neck to see as feel what it might be like to wearing it.
Walking then back to the desk and plopping into the chair by it, did mumble aloud, "This does not make any sense!"
"Sure does, or maybe it will in due time," said Uncle Ned as his reply, he stood standing at the base of the steps, was quiet and watching his inquisitive nephew.
"I am sorry but I saw the stairway and...," I said to explain as why the new guest was where he might be less than welcomed, but Uncle stopped the quick bit of explaining at half in a sentence.
"No, no Nephew, I left the door unlocked, expecting you might find your way down here. This is my award hobby room, where with the power granted to me, gives help to young and some mature people for finding the error of their ways.
Some who come here never learn to understand the rare wonder of life, and end up living their changed existence only to die the death as an animal. Others, many of whom given a choice preferred being as horses, those acting as brutes to the girls became as cows, boys and some men as goats, and a few religious types as even Sheep or pigs. Most who came saw the reality and decidedly found their outlook bettered when returned to their original forms.
Those who make the grade here live again as would a human, living their life to the fullest!
A rare few decide negative is best, they will degrade mentally into what became for them as their changed body. The accept and want the full lifestyle of as being an animal, living out their years, they relish feeling just what pleases them, that the brutality of bestial existence.
You Nephew, have you chosen from the book a worthwhile lifestyle, something to help you decide in life what is right for you? Ah yes, you were looking at young Mister Norton, he came here from a Reform School, and while working found his love to be around cows. That very halter you thought to try and wear was what blessed him to become a fine purebred, Polled Hereford bull. His new embodiment being that bull, he gave of his spirit the fullest of any endeavor, breeding well with all. He was a great sire and found a sense of fulfillment from mating with cows. He was of a greater help to some of whom came after him, they chose to become as cows, learned then the true worth of life after having Norton mounted and humping them to the fullest.
Although he spent much of his lifetime tending to his heightened sensual needs, Norton had his loving ways, guiding those new to being bovine as what to do and how to cope," said Uncle Ned, he then walking into around the room, and looking at the wall mounted pictures, stopping to stare at a few.
"What, you mean these things are empowered to make people who would wear them as if they were born to wear them?" Just asking the obvious, I then was stunned at hearing the story spun by Uncle Ned. I asking if what he said was the truth.
"Yes," he responded calmly, as if what would be a magical miracle were an everyday occurrence there on his farm. His answer made for more wonderment and a feeling of apprehension of remaining there with him.
"Then you would like your nephew better if he was to wishfully want to wear this, and from hanging it around the neck it somehow would do the changing to me of becoming a Hereford bull too?" Asked I of Uncle with an uncommon boldness, the story as spun seemed too fairytale to be anything real.
"Similar of such, it was what your father wanted for you. He took his turn some many years past, as he when younger his father sent him here to me. Your father and son, he having done something similar, seen what did you, was given by me a choice.
So then yes, if you want to learn and understand the deeper meanings of life, I have seen it and believe that any of these varied artifacts could give you some needed guidance. This be the truth for you, unless what you did that became so much the troubles of your young life, were from wanton lust and sexual self-gratification of passion.
Something similar befell your father some many years ago. It forced him to come and pay a visit, he not believing my rendition either, decided to play along with an old man and his fantasies. Then as if patronizing me, he donned a draft horse halter. Almost instantly and with the wearing, he after the time required for his body of making the change a reality, he resided here on the farm. Just the span of one year and he was begging, asking rather nicely to return to being his human self. His lifestyle and the trials of living as does a horse helped him to know best what he wanted for a proper future.
He knew then both sides of the fence and that helped him to excel in life from learning the raw basic needs as he worked that one year as a draft horse. He made up his mind about you after that foolish romp with the girl. It was a week later when your father was at his wits end. He called and asked with a quiet reverent tone for his Uncle to foster you along into learning about life!" Uncle Ned said, his speech done with such sense of heart felt love for what became of father, he sounded as if near to tears.
All so unbelievable, I was sure this had to be some sort of hoax, if such was like magic, it seemed as taken off the television science fiction channel; this could not be anything real. Decided then that Uncle Ned was some kind of nut-case, I had the momentary thought to run out the room, up the stairs, and get to where if needed, one could run and evade.
Seeing the presence of mind, Uncle slamming the room door shut, turned and looking with a cold stare, sent the fear of the devil into his nephew.
"This is not the stupidity of an old man, but it is real, and if by taking of this pony halter and dared to put it lightly over the head, you will feel the power that be, they are here, and can force fit it as if you were born to wear it for your entire life." Uncle Ned said, as he holding up a small leather strap made halter, stood there offering for his gullible nephew to slip it on and over a foolish head.
The thought this was some sort of testing, seeing if the nephew would do as told when told, the sense of humiliation for having to put it on stopped the wish to do as asked. Backing away from Uncle, the desk got in the way, trapped as Uncle approached, stood there with eyes closed, as shaking hands slipped the halter then into place sent a shiver of shame down the spine.
Eyes closed the sudden dreamy scene was of horse and ponies standing in a corral and to one corner of the pen were two horses going at it, mating with such brutality, that seeing it made for a feeling of dread.
The vision and the sense of personal dread left when Uncle had not let go of the halter, but holding it still, he lifted it up and over, off from the head, I then seeing what was for the previous wearer.
You saw as what she did, this halter last worn by Gracie, she your second cousin, came from Denver to live here for two years. Had she remained a pony mare, she might well have stayed here longer. The stallion mating in the scene was a real born stud. He is here still, used as a stud to breed with mares, mares being born as mares, or humans changed and living as mares.
Had Gracie stood there in fright and became the next conquest of the stallion, she once impregnated, it would be necessary for her to remain a mare through foaling time, and live as a mare mothering her offspring with teats and guidance until the colt or filly were weaned and able to live by grazing. What would add to her life here, being as is a pony mare would last two more years, an eternity to someone changed. Worse, might be that she would like the experience of mating with the stud, and after her time of mothering she would allow the stud to impregnate her a second time, such would assuredly force her to remain a mare the rest of her natural life. The natural life for a mare might be twenty years, but for those changed and deciding to remain an animal, they live the biblical promise. As promised, to live for three score and ten years minimal, that as seventy and more years as what they became. Uncle explaining, his story seemed woven with logic over time, sounded possible if not real, or real to him.
Not believing the spun story, but playing along with the situation, did ask of Uncle, "So say by your first choice that with putting on then that big belt and the brass cow bell, you would want for your nephew to become then a prize bull?
If that be your choice, if you would like to become a bull, your course of living like one would last for at least three months. Come then a time when required to give your answer of yes it was pleasing, or no, telling the being a bull disagreed with your expectations. Once asked and so said, then comes the need to return, this takes time after the choosing, more then of what would be your testing of life.
None changed begin as if full grown when first becoming like an animal. They need time to grow and the body to gain bulk. As being like a yearling size of bull, three months would bring on the size and passions of being a mature bull. Once if after having mated a cow, the ritual done, the choice then is as made, a bull would you need remain for three months more.
If decided then at six months to return then to being human it is possible to support a return to your human self. Ah, but be warned, that sexual behavior as of a sire animal is the crux. As from living on longer as or even without knowingly accepting the idea, comes then the fact of permanency, unchangeable, living your full life as then an animal.
An example, if once you become say a bull, the natural instincts begin to put pressure on your thinking and reasoning process. The bestial lusts excite and build intent for to procreate your new species. This in turn drains your human ability to reason and learn. Life takes on a bland sense of meaning, an enrichment of your want for greater sensation and sexual pleasuring tends to make the return to human existence, seem ridiculous, and hardy worth the effort.
At certain times to come, the enchantment has limits, these when approached your mentality would return, able to think, reason, and understand your present situation you need then to choose. Ask then to return to being human, or if ignore the question poised and you walk away it be decided then your desires," explained Uncle, the urgency of deciding then came in his tone of voice as if an epic moment in time.
Unable to decide what to do, whether to play along or deny Uncle his fun, asked then to think about it for a while. This seemed to defuse the urgency of deciding, and Uncle opened the door to the room, motioning for his nephew to walk out, take leave, or run.
Walking out and then up to some sense of freedom, the wonder of what had dad left his son to do or become, as with living here with Uncle seemed more than strange a place to think and decide the future.
Walking aimlessly and returning for supper, it was quiet through the meal and after when washing the dishes. Nothing said, but we were thinking, the looks coming from Uncle made the blood run cold.
Nine oclock and to bed we who be farmers do go, for a wondering nephew and son of two loving concerned parents lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking hard for the first time in his entire life.
Unexplainable, the sight of seeing such a strange and vivid vision, it happening when as Uncle had laid so slightly that pony halter over the head of a deciding nephew. So real the scene, the sensations, feeling as if from being nervous like was Gracie, felt her tail flicking, whisking at furry buttocks, she as if a naked animal there in the hot sunshine.
Vivid in the extreme and charming in a way never thought about, the idea of becoming as is an animal and living of life that way. The thinking of the feelings added to the sense of arousal as what Allan felt like when a bull, or being as might a pony stallion and wanting to mate with a mare. The more the thoughts of it all made a want to try a halter or harness on a personal and private time.
Near midnight and sneaking out of bed, got dressed, and was out the house walking to the barn. Aroused so stiff by the anxious feeling, walking became staggering. Into the barn, down the stairs, flashlight in hand, did open the tact room door and went inside. Looking around, saw a light switch and it lighted the room in a yellow glow of a dust-coated light bulb.
Halter, bridles, harnesses, broad leather straps, some with bells, some without, all hung neatly on pegs, and above each were the names to those who wore them, and of when they did with date and years worn.
In the short while there at the farm had seen then how bulls are and of horses mill about but remain close to their respective small herd. As Uncle mentioned of, he had some goats and sheep, but no pigs. The thought of what would wear what from the room, as from memory, pigs never wore anything of straps made of leather.
Looking and taking a visual inventory did note a wood peg and it having looped around it was hinged brass rings. The rings where they could open had sharp points that when pinched together, acted as would a scissors. "Nose rings, as what went into the bridge of the nostrils and nose of a bull, used to control it when at show!" Verbally recounting what having seen, one of the bulls there at the barn, he trussed up for a washing, had a rope looped through the nose ring holding him tight and captive.
Bulls, cattle did not offer any interest as a fantasy for being like one, the thought of becoming a pony might. If allowed the choice of being a stallion and not a mare, the desire to retain being male seemed a primary desire.
Looking at the halters saw one that with its shiny black straps appeared as if used mostly when at show, at the county fair, or in competition, this allured in a way the others did not!
Lifting it with great care and caution off the wood peg where it set hung on, with shaking hands held it above the head and slowly letting it then come down. The leather straps first touching the top of the head filled the mind's eyes with a stunning vision. Turning of the head to look around, peered along sleek black colored flanks to a short but busy tail.
A careful gaze down saw there forelegs and hoofs, the longing increased then to let the halter drop into place an accept being then what it would do.
"A Hackney is a coach horse, that the halter to the one and only such horse ever here on the farm. He, Daniel, made for a fine sulky horse. He won many races and lived in his stallion form for thirty-seven years. Sadly, he died from injuries given him by an angry mare, she a changer as was he, but she angry at the world and those living in it." Said Uncle, he then in the doorway to the room, seemed intent but willing t let his nephew make the choice of a lifetime.
Smiling back at Uncle and the first thought to go along with his joke, did laugh. A short-lived bit of humor as while seeing Uncle, saw as well what did Daniel when he had the halter strapped tight to his horse head.
Lifting up and removing the halter ceased the scene of being as was Daniel when he was as horse.
Setting it back on the wooden peg, Uncle seemed saddened by the return of it to the peg as if chosen by his nephew he would like it, and like having again another horse on his farm.
Without a word of asking, then pointed to various halters, some being bridles with bits a part of them. Pointing at the nose rings stacked on a peg, each a different size from the other, Uncle said of these, as thought of them was correct. The removing off the peg of one seemed to sadden Uncle, it a small ring compared to the bottom of the stack large ring. Uncle said the ring chosen; he had used on unruly pig boar, a railroad bum thought being a pig for him as proper, but found instead his life of being as a pig more than just dirty.
Wondering what Uncle would do, with then opening wide the ring, did begin to place it into the nose and would, if allowed, have closed it into a locked position.
"Really Nephew, you do that, close and lock it tight into your nose you do two things. First, you shall change into being as is a pig, a boar, and become brutal. Secondly, the locking of it will decide your question as to again to being human, this denial to be human, you will remain permanently as a pig boar for many years."
Defiant to believe the facts as told by Uncle, the hand holding the ring to the nose did jerk and slammed closed the points. A searing pain in the nose made a scream come out that began sounding like a human in pain, but finished with a squeal. Horrid feelings surged throughout the head, body and out into arms and legs.
A trailing fading stunned word that was as a "What," turned to a grunting disdained sound as if a pig felt it as dishonored somehow.
Looking up at Uncle, he stepped close, took hold of aching shoulders and pushing, urged me to walk along. We went upstairs and directly to the empty hog pen. He said nothing, but began unbuttoning what his nephew wore, as soon a young male human stood naked in a pen, knowing his body was in the throngs of change.
All the world of color dimmed to dark shadows of either black or white. In moments that followed, by blinking of eyes the more vivid color separation dulled to varied shades of grays and white. The reached out hand to beg for sympathy saw an arm changing to a fore leg with cloven hoofs.
Standing and knowing some of what had begun, the stomach turned as super came up, puking from the terror begun by denial. Hunched over forward the feelings suggested a better way to stand was on all fours.
Suggested, but not wanted, as by doing so would give in and standing in that manner might rush the change to completion.
Again, trying to beg for help, the words set on the tip of the changing tongue, seemed to float off into the far recesses of a degrading brain. The feeling of as the bodily muscles grew stronger, expanding, turning a foolish eighteen year-old into soon a pig, of swine, as a boar. Eyes wide, did but watch in some sense of horror and fantasy as sharp, coarse feeling bristles erupted out the darkening coloration of skin.
Moaning, did stroke the changing foreleg across the thickening pelt of piggy bristles, the sensation not as frightening as it was arousing and sensual. Big oval shaped ears, all bristles too, began to move, mobile they could flick and flop.
Horror turned to a sense of humor knowing that the change and digression of body and mind would be then permanent if Uncle told the truth. Hearing then as a bucket of slurry slopped into a trough, Uncle standing there, pointing, the pig me then seeing his meal sauntered toward it.
Raving of hunger, moving to the trough, feeling like dying of hunger, the slop tasted fair, it filled an aching belly, giving aid to changes, growth, and maturity.
The change was not without its sensual delights, the male parts gaining size, length, and a much higher level of sensation. The growth of a sheath and huge testes all pumped up expectations for mating, breeding, as would a boar to a sow.
Seconds, seemed as hours, watching as seeing of everything change in slow motion, until near the end was grown a tail, it flicked and wiggled, tickling at a bare and open anus. This too was a sensation offering great wonder and an odd sort of delight. Uncle Ned watched silently, helping when there was a problem for the changing. His warm hands were as a friendly note, applying a oily salve to the sheath. It an ointment he said, of what would remove all Christian resemblance of being human, deforming the circumcision to make a corkscrew shape of what was male and human.
Near to sunup when Uncle stood back eying his new boar, said then, "Nephew you look just fine, a true and pure of breed Berkshire hog boar now stands here and wanting to begin his life. A promise to you, by me keeping you in the barn for a couple of months might defuse the power of this spell; giving you some time to decide if this is right for you. Your body needs tending, feeding and gaining mass. You need help learning how to eat, and of grazing, consuming fodder; the fodder is the worst, I shall blend it with molasses until you get accustomed to the flavors.
Remember Nephew of your task, to learn and understand life! If you relax and be then as a true boar, your life to come will be that of a crude pig."
He attached a rope to the nose ring, giving it a slight tug, set a still maturing male pig to learn trotting on four legs, his cloven hoofs, and doing whatever the farmer asked. Taken to the barn, and placed as put into pen there, was alone, did sniff the sweet smell of straw covering the floor, it seemed so nice. A gallon bucket of water stood placed by the door and with it a tub full of raw grains for to munch.
To eat and drink often until learning better as how to eat as a pig should. In time nature will guide a lazy pig to wander about, but until then, he needed to try to eat as best he could.
Things went well and learning the piggish ways came quickly. Held inside the hot barn, had found life there to be a meaningless, as well mindless of action. Life slipped by as one day while groping in the trough, gazed up at dear Uncle. He stood there with a smile, as next to him stood then father, he with a scowl on his face told of great misgivings for he who once was as his son.
"The three month tribute time has arrived, speak now, you have weakened the spell, you can become something else or wish to be again a human, say you what nephew?" Asked Uncle Ned, his words cut deep, made sense, and with gained understanding gave a pig to decide his future and fate.
"Do not be stupid and ignore the question," grumbled father, he pushing Uncle aside, stepped close to the pigpen and looked at a son who inside his mind stood there wishing he had some sows to tickle.
Uncle saw father in a different light, he walked away only to return moments later after an interminable amount of fatherly silence, Uncle opened a gate letting into the pen two hearty big sows.
"They were born as pigs, sows and well willing to mate. You have not had the experience yet, that of breeding and mating with your own breed, pig style, learning how best to mount, holding her in place, and inserting that shaft like a fine big boar." Uncle said as he suggested what to then was something forbidden, as from doing it, the breeding, mating would seal the future and his nephew would remain as a pig.
Grunting and squealing the anxious many tries met with failure, the sow would walk away, forcing the fall harshly to all fours. It happened finally near sundown, when with a sow tired from the trying allowed the insertion. This offered a new finding to the sensual sensation so enthralling, it helped to the blowing spew of three fired loads. Snorting from the thrill, Uncle opened the pen gate and let sows with their boar to run out the barn and into a sty with there and then numerous pigs of varied sizes, but all were sows!
No, he shall doom and damn himself with the sows. Said father that the last heard from him, as seeing his son rush after the herd of sows he did turn around and walked away, never to return to see how his son did with having a herd of his own.
Easy was the losing all track of time, living, as does a boar the need for a clock is next to useless. It was in the late afternoon as with lying in the mud near our herd of sows, we shaded from the hot sun, laid there lounging, saw Uncle coming to visit, he kneeling down and petting stroked a head covered with coarse bristles.
"It is again a time for the Nephew to decide, be you still a pig boar, or ready to be as a man," he asked.
To stand and cocking the head only slightly did ogle an eye up at him, thought for a short minute. Then with the usual struggle to hoist or turn the bulk pig body, turned the head and giving a look at a lovely sow, she stood as willing and ready. She hardly a virgin wanted of her boar some fun-loving attention.
A look to Uncle, he watching, saw as his new large black boar trots directly to the young female, he mounting her, had a quick erection, something that with age and practice would become massive, as this time it squiggled in and slid home. All done with the true rough and tough boar like manner. Two twists and a few thrusts helped blow the load, it spewed into that sow, and a boar gave a wink of satisfaction to Uncle Ned.
Uncle stood near the pen fence, smiled a smirk, and announced while his nephew could still understand him, said, "I see, well then you may continue on as a boar until next year. I will call your father and explain, unlike him, you seem to have found your place. You will soon be pleased, as with the coming of our County Fair, I plan to loan you for sire, and there are many more sows in the county! Once judged for your bulk and virility, you shall be the prime sire boar for show, and used to sire my herd and many others, lots of fun in the sun!
In time, as three years later, what became real then felt so right and even proper as the Fair Judge, poked with his sharp stick, urging a big boar to move as he directed. Enjoying the Fair, and when placed in a box stall for three nights, two girls sneaked in late, entering that stall, they fondled and sucked this boar, his corkscrew longed to rut them but they made the better decision as not to let that happen.
Uncle loaned out his prizewinner boar as promised, his piggish Nephew by then into his third year, moving from to farm. Vivid are the memories, remembered of Uncle telling how a boar cock would turn raw form pleasure, as mounting older sows, their tough and leather like vagina took some tolls. An occasional need to lick it helped, but it toughened, making the sensual feelings less and the lusting passion the driving force in his life to change.
It must be that time again, seeing as Uncle coming again to ask. He stands beside one who was a father, Uncle tells of his satisfaction as his boar has done well, making him richer, as then he posed the same ole' question. Father stood wringing his hands in nervous frustration; no doubt, a mother knows of what was to do and renew. Uncle asked, father chimed in as well, both posed the question, if a son and nephew shall ever want to return to living a human life. Father begging of his son to consider, as from the longer amount of time spent in animal form, the greater the difficulty it is to return to be again human. As his dear wife laid down the law with him about her son and his uncle, he knows that his marriage is on the rocks.
All sense of any humiliation gone as living naked to the world and the elements makes a body tough. Raw is the life of a boar, sex is the one reason to keep a boar alive, and alive is what it felt like being as, and breeding with hundreds of sows during any year. The pleading of that loving father who sent me to Uncle is beginning to stem the break between us, and having tried, exceeded, and enjoyed, maybe it was time to decide and return to living in a socially acceptable manner, but would there be as many females just as willing? A deciding of the future was at hand!