Instead of using the enforced solitude to rest, poor Matt works himself into a state.
He's tried without any success for the last 24 hours to reverse his swap with a dumb ass. An ordinary donkey with the huge ears, tail, a long muzzle and flared nostrils, hooves and, under his hindquarters, a pair of huge wobbly black ball and a ridiculous long donkey's dick. Just thinking about his new equipment caused the huge dick to slither out of its sheath and rapidly extend its entire hard length, periscoping down toward the floor of the barnyard stall.
The flat head almost grazed the ground, but too much space remained for Matt to try working some friction by simply rubbing his cock on the ground. He tried to shift his bulky body, but the narrow stall didn't allow him to turn. His attempt to run his hard cock along the wall of the stall ended in dismal failure, too.
The farm's jenny wanted nothing to do with him. He could try again in the morning, but he doubted he would have any more success, not with the Chronivac itself doing everything possible to forcefully extend his stay in asinine form. The hard cock ached. He wanted so bad to touch himself, but he had only blocky hooves that, even if the stall had offered room for him to lift a leg, would have been useless for the business needed in order to tease himself to ejaculation.
Matt couldn't even control basic bodily functions. He didn't even have a say on what happened to his body. He remembered the farmer and farmhand casually discussing possibly having him castrated. Was that another of the Chronivac's extreme measures?
He was trapped. He realized he was trapped. The feelings of being trapped overwhelmed him until he could only bray. The sound was worse than the usual raucous racket. These brays were fueled by 24 hours of denied sexual release coupled with the knowledge that without ejaculation he couldn't get back into his own body.
As far as the farmhouse, the farmer heard the brays. Hoping the stupid beast wouldn't keep him awake all night, he slid his phone from his pocket and called his farmhand. "On your way here tomorrow, could you stop off at the vet's and ask him what he'd charge to geld that ol' jackass?"
The farmer's employee assured him he would swing by the vet's office before work.
The commotion from the barn did, eventually, die down. The farmer's sleep was guaranteed simply because a physically and mentally exhausted Matt finally fell asleep himself, standing on all four legs in his barn stall.