The facts were plain, even when being a brute beast, the mind and the animal instincts war with one upon the other. Circe loves to remind her human thinking boar that he should turn his attentions to wanting to feeling of his corkscrew contoured cock, as sunk deep, he thrusting, and wanting that feel of masculine sensations.
Oh but she spoke the truth about what a Boar feels as his needs, his wants, his few pleasures.
The common techniques of living the Boar lifestyle leaves after each lusty accomplished breeding a taste of brass in the vile mouth of Circe's most recent transformed fool. There is no denying of what you became, of the feelings. You can vividly recall your short time when standing beside and before Circe. She reacted as if loving you for your being a truthful man, wanting only to speak of the mutual good for all, even of knowing Circe to being a witch, held you in her a happy thought.
Yet, what you were, is so different from what you became, and for a short while learned with ease of how to live then the lifestyle of a male pig, a Boar, a beast!
Whether Circe were there doing her reminding-taunting of those made to be as beasts, one of her playthings felt a sense of regret for what he lost, as well for what he had become, and wanted most earnestly to repent. Circe would see and became verbally angered, seeing among her gamboling herd of swine, as one knelt down on his front knees forelegs, with head tucked low, acting as might a reverent, praying individual, she screamed at him, at you here command to cease the weird rights.
Others there were as witnesses to what you did, some still capable to relate and relish your desire to pray, plead, as beg for help from a divine higher power than even Circe. Granted, as words said came out as oinks and grunts, what flowed though the mind were of original sentiments, remembered goodness gifted as granted by heavenly grace.
"No, no, no, stop that praying, it will do you no good, he will not listen to a beast!" Circe yelled at you, she stepping from off her high walkway, walking through her herd of sorry or scared beasts to where she when standing aside her repenting Boar, did give you a swift as harsh kick. A kick to her hatred for a still religious male pig, she kicking your big balls. The sharp pain enough to break that thought, that wish to repent, as make a hog get up and run, his balls aching!
Running while wagging that great boarish head, the pains felt still vivid, while the repenting wish remains equally vivid.
"Oink, oink, oink," you did scream, as all close to you did scattered, each feeling his or her reason for disliking what when Circe told them of their demise, they did laugh, scoff. Not one dared to scoff after their bodies grew a dense pelt of coarse bristles. The sprouting of a pig's tail became a constant as vivid reminder, they had lost their heritage for being a human. Cloven hooves did replace human hands, as did the legs of a man become as hind legs to an animal.
All of what was of good in a person became by ways of Circe to be as wanting to lust, act vile, worse than any human act, or human preference for acting similar to dumb beasts.
"Indeed," you despised being as Circe changed you, being for her as an animal, and living every day, every night, knowing you were a beast; the thought of your situation causing even a herd-sire boar to wallow in his pity of self.
"You hope, well beasts, for you there is no reason to hope, you became as mine to own, mine to use, mine to slaughter!" Circe did yell, and to most there they reacted as agreeing, but you knelt and did mentally beg for her to see the error in her ways.