A slow up and down motion of the donkey head is enough for the woman to realize your in agreement with her offer for you to become partially human. Partially human, but as evil and animalistic as those other donkey-girls there in the bar; they have not a sign of decency to them, all willing and ready to guide a customer into living life as would a animal born as is a beast.
Sad for having lost your personal freedom, the becoming of a maid donkey-girl does not appeal to you as much better than being a jennet donkey. The one thing that offers you that slight edge to be at the least part human, all hinges on the disgusting way you were witness to a Jack donkey mating a mostly transformed donkey female. The sight of donkey maleness was enough to make you willing to accept anything, fearful of having such a huge bestial shaft thrust and inside your body.
A sense of insult forms in your thoughts as to the fellow you thought of as being manly had turned chicken. He would rather be some alluring whore in a vile club than to keep his maleness and some sense of integrity' donkey Jacks seemed to have it better than did the jennets, at least to your manner of thinking.
The pin prick in your furry covered rump marks the ending of your animalistic short time of being on all fours, and then on to an eternity of thirty years living as a donkey-girl barmaid and or a slut to allure men and younger to their bestial doom.