Memories of frantic passions for what has by then and the now become realized as foolhardy. Never more true is the fact of my being becoming that of a gray furred donkey. I twitch my ears, my tall furred ears. I snort, unable to bring a handkerchief from a pocket to wipe my runny nose. I stand now on all four, four legs, strong legs, and have four hoofs, solid hoofs, not cloven like a few of the unluckier fellows gained.
My being as of the equine race, breed is a better word for it now; I fear the fates of those who became as goats or bulls.
I stand on all fours, the weight of my big gut is suspended in a natural as very comfortable manner. I like now having a tail, it brushes over what became puckered and protruding, is now where the sun can shine on it. Snorting lends to shaking my mane, as wagging my tail to show any sense of glee.
Glee, a simple word what within my head and through my groin both areas work together to arouse from its sleep, that what that fat woman would want for me to earn my keep. My new cock hangs as a weight from my groin. My libido is enhanced now from either my four legged stance, or because of my change in species. Whatever the reason why, I simply adore having such a large of girth, as long my cock, and cannot wait until I am taken to a corral filled with equally horny female donkeys.
I saw one female donkey walking, she led by a Park employee. I recall having looked at her rump, her large black lipped vulva protruding into the light of day, in clear view of all nearby. Thoughts of how then I did make humoristic thoughts of her, as if she were imparted some of the island Park curse, became a jennet donkey and living her entire life either doing hard work, or standing, being mated, and dropping foals until death do take her away.
Suddenly my nose is dripping strings of salty flavored snot over my thick equine lips. My cock is into a raging boner state, the tip flared huge, as pre is dripping out the blunted end. My tail is swishing with anxious desires pulsing through my beastly addled brain. I raise my muzzle skyward and begin sniffing the wafting breeze.
I feel an undeniable want for the rump end of a female equine, donkey, or mare, to me then it did not matter.
Vivid memories of that jennet donkey as she strode past me, her black vulva moving with her every stride step taken. I recall my having stared at her vulva, wondering what it might be like to be a stud Jack donkey. Being a donkey and wishing then to sniff of it, lick at it, and mounting the female. As poke into her the twenty inch or longer of sensual cock, as then thrusting with such length, to some depth, it gave me to shiver from the wild thought of it all!
My thought of my memories grants me again the delighted shiver of lusty want to mate as do donkeys.
Sex, food, and sleep is what the life of being a donkey is all about, and God help me, but I think I shall learn easily to love being a donkey!