"Uh, I guess I could do some more work." It wasn't as if Derrick was tired or even bored with what he had been doing. Somehow, just using his muscles had been satisfying. "Will this make me stronger?"
"Ya' wants more muscle, stud? I can set you up with some work that will buff you up like a draft horse." The woman grinned. "Won't do your package any harm, either."
Derrick flushed a bit more, then gave a sigh and stepped out from the stall. It still seemed weird to be naked, but somehow he just couldn't get all that upset over it. In any other place he would never have even considered this, but for some reason being in the stable and doing common labor made it almost normal in his mind. "OK, then. I'll do whatever you want."
"Hot damn!" The woman slapped her thigh and gestured for him to follow out the back of the stable. She led him out to an area where large bales of hay were being hoisted up to a storage area on the top floor of another large barn. "Clive!" She shouted to a man watching a couple of others hooking up a bale to a rope. "I got you a fine young stud who wants more muscle. I think he'd make a fine Shire."
Clive was in his forties, lean and hard-looking with weathered skin and graying brown hair. He gave Derrick a once-over and shrugged. "He can pull these bales up for us, then. Simple work, just needs mass and muscle. That should help him along."
Derrick was a little confused, but understood that whatever they wanted him to do would make him bigger and stronger still. He nodded and stepped up to the man. "Yes sir! I'm ready to work!"
"I can see that!" He nodded to one of the men with the bales and said "Rig our stud here up with a harness. And double up them bales."
The man went into the barn and came out with some leather straps that he handed to Clive. The man wrapped them around Derrick's chest and shoulders. Derrick started to protest that he could just pull on the rope the way the men did, but Clive shook his head. "Safer this way, and you can pull a lot more. I want to speed this up."
They hooked two bales, which Derrick thought might be a bit much since one bale was all the grown men were managing. But when he gave it a try, he found he could drive forward and pull the bales up with some extra effort. "Hold!" He stopped and felt the rope go slack as the bales were removed. "Back!" Clive was commanding him like an animal, but the orders were easy to follow. "Hold!" The next bales were a little easier, and like the stall cleaning, Derrick fell into a rhythm. The bales would sometimes feel a little heavier, but after another pull they would get light again. He was trudging forward on command, feet thudding into the dirt, not bothering to look back. There were probably fifty bales, so it would take a while. Except that Clive came over and patted his shoulder after fifteenth 'Hold!, and Derrick twisted his head around to see the men up top undoing four bales from the rope! He was pulling four bales at once without effort!
Then he realized Clive looked to be a little shorter than him. He'd thought the man was tall before. Clive reached up and slipped something into Derricks mouth that he pulled in with thick lips and automatically crunched - a sugar cube? It was some kind of treat, like a reward for an animal. Derrick felt mild annoyance, but found he really liked the sugar.
"Come on, Stud." Clive gripped a strap on the harness and tugged, and Derrick found himself plodding along next tot eh man. He was led to an old-fashioned wooden-wheeled wagon loaded with fencing materials. "We need this moved out to the far pasture. One of the hands will guide you. Pull it there and leave it. You can come back on your own."
Pull a wagon? Derrick felt a little thick-headed, but his success with the bales combined with an odd sense that he needed to do what Clive said to make him cooperate. More straps were buckled on, and he found himself harnessed to the wagon with a ranch hand who looked to be in his twenties grinning at him from the wagon seat.
"Yah!" The ranch hand shouted and tugged some straps that were connected to Derrick's harness. They were carrying this animal theme a little far, but Derrick lunged forward against the weight of the wagon. They were crazy! No way he could move this much weight. Anther 'Yah" got him annoyed, and he lunged again, only to have the wagon start rolling. He was so surprised that he nearly fell forward, but the harness kept him in place. He maintained the momentum, and started a steady plodding that kept the wagon rolling. The pastures rolled out incredibly far, dotted with herds of horses. Where was he supposed to go? A tug on the right lead indicated a turn. He found the tugs easy to understand, and concentrated on getting the wagon over the increasingly rough surface.
By the time they reached the first fence, Derrick was plodding steadily, feeling content and powerful as he hauled the wagon over the thick grass. The ranch hand hopped down to open a gate so they could pass though. The guy was small! He almost looked like a kid, but he had stubble. And the fence was not very tall. They passed through, and continued on. It was easy to get the wagon rolling this time, and Derrick found himself drifting off mentally as he worked - this was so easy, so natural.
A loud whinny startled him and he discovered they had gone through several more pastures and were now in one with some really beautiful, muscular draft horses. They had white feathering over their hooves, and sleek black coats. Bu they were smaller than he expected, not much taller than he was. They smelled so good, though! One of them snorted and reared up, whinnying a challenge. Obviously a stallion, and not happy to see them. But the other three were mares, and one of them seemed to almost glow in his vision. His nostrils flared and his upper lip curled as he drank in her scent. She was in heat! He felt himself stiffen, and flushed suddenly in embarrassment.
The ranch hand laughed. "Let's get this load dropped off, stud. Then you can come back and see about dropping off your load." Derrick felt the heat in his cheeks. As if he would mount an animal!? Why was he reacting so strongly to a mare's scent? He struggled to get his mind clear, but the ranch hand tugged at the reins, and they continued on. Derrick's concerns faded as he fell back into routine, though the stimulation of the mare's scent kept him erect for quite a while.
They finally stopped at the edge of a pasture where the fence was obviously being replaced. The ranch hand, who seemed so tiny now, undid the harness and slapped his rump. "Go on, stud! You are on your own. That mare would enjoy a visit. Though I don't know if you'll be able to stay on two legs after that."
Derrick snorted and shook his head, which felt heavy. It took effort to concentrate, pushing through the heavy fog that seemed to fill his head. Finally, for the first time since he had been hooked up to the wagon, he began to really comprehend things. It was as if he had been sleepwalking all day! Looking back, he realized that the wagon and the ranch hand seem to be proportionally correct in size. And the wagon had been normal size when they started. His eyes widened, and he also realized he was seeing a much wider field of view. A look down showed why he had been able to pull so well. His chest was barreled out and massively muscled, with sweaty dark hair or fur that had the patterns of the straps pressed into it. Below that - he was a horse. There was no mistaking the powerful legs, or the dinner-plate hooves that were almost totally obscured by white feathering.
He reached up and felt his face - it protruded out, and he realized he had gotten used to the obstruction of a forming muzzle. His ears were near the top of his head, and his mouth was deep and wide with thick, pliable lips and flat teeth. When he tried to speak, he whickered.
The ranch hand chuckled as he walked around Derrick. "Quite a Shire stud there, boy!" The man's hands slid over his chest and rump, and even hefted his now-massive testicles. "Yep, that mare will be mighty pleased to see you." He pointed over to where a large pond shimmered in the late afternoon sun. "Go take a look, stud. You're the best two-leg stallion I ever seen here. If you keep goin' you'll end up a Champion breeder."
Derrick plodded over to the water's edge, aware that he had left deep footprints in the soft soil. He stared at the reflection for a several minutes. He was a huge and very male black draft horse, probably the same breed as the ones they had come across. The mare. His upper body was different, humanoid enough that he was walking on two legs and had functional arms and three-fingered hands. But his head was fully that of the animal, and it would not take much for the rest of him to shift to normal stallion as well.
Two things occurred to him - he was magnificent! Easily more than a ton and maybe nine feet tall, he had sleek black hide and the handsome head of the Shires. He looked unique, beautiful, powerful. The other thing was that he was not at all concerned about this new look. He knew he was a freak, that he could never go back to his old life. The boy he had been was gone now, and he would probably never leave this ranch again, at least on two legs. But he did not care. This felt right and proper, it felt normal.
The only question now was, did he want to go straight back to the ranch and show his parents his new body, or visit with the mare?