"I'll come with you," she said.
The man clapped his hand with joy.
"What?" Tony said, aghast.
"Please," Samantha said, putting out a hand he could talk to. "We both know that until I walk off you're going to be clinging to my side instead of ... you know ... swinging!"
"Fine."
Samantha walked off with the man, who he found out was called Bruce, and his wife was already out of sight. At first she thought they would go to his quarters, but he took her to a sterile-looking room with metal walls and floors. He was very nice, and thanked her as often as he apologized for having this strange quirk. Samantha brushed it off, thanking him for getting her away from Tony for a moment.
Bruce directed her into a small stall and instructed her, "I'm going to sound kind of mean, that's a part of it. If you get uncomfortable, just let me know. You'll be eating off the floor but the room is clean. Thanks again for doing this."
Still feeling embarrassed for the guy, she stripped down to her underwear and stepped inside the stall.
"If you don't mind, completely naked," Bruce said.
Samantha pulled off her bra, letting her modest breasts tumble free, and reached down and stepped out of her thong. There was a bit of a chill. She shivered, becoming aware of how fast her nipples had hardened. Then, she decided to get on with it. "Okay, you mean man, throw me my food."
Bruce pulled out a five-gallon bucket of lettuce and shook it out into her stall. He set down the bucket it pulled out a hose off the wall and squirted dressing onto the lettuce. "Now eat! I didn't bring you down here to watch you look at food. Eat the food!"
Samantha smirked and squatted onto her knees. She reached out and picked up a piece of lettuce, smothered in dressing, and put it into her mouth. Her eyes bugged. The taste was amazing! She reached out and grabbed a handful and stuffed it into her mouth.
"You call that eating?" Bruce challenged?
When he hand touched the dressing, she felt an intoxicating sensation. Her hand seemed to glow with delight at the touch.
She thought the fetish was weird, but was just as happy to eat the delicious salad, even if it was off the floor. Bruce dumped more lettuce and then some vegetables onto the floor in front of her, and then squirted them with the dressing. She purposely put her arm in front of the stream of dressing and, as she felt with her hand, it was as if there was something magical in the dressing.
Other than how chilly she felt and how strange the dressing felt, she was aware how much food was on the floor. At least ten gallons of lettuce and vegetables piled on top of that. Since she was a modest eater, this was mostly a lot of wasted food.
"More dressing," she said, standing.
"You like the dressing?" Bruce bellowed. "I brought you here to watch you eat not to indulge your tastes!" Then he pointed the hose directly at her and fired.
The dressing hit her, crossing her body and leaving runny streaks. She laughed at the sensation and licked it off her arm. She got down on her hands and knees again and began eating more than she would have thought possible. She buried her arms beneath the mounds of food and pulled it closer. She lay directly on the cold metal floor. The coldness didn't matter next to the taste of the food. She ate and ate and ate and loved eating.
Bruce yelled things but it faded into background noise.
When the pile she had dragged toward her mouth was low, she pulled up her arms from the pile of salad, intended to reach for more. Instead, she stopped, shocked. All of the weird or pleasurable sensations she had felt so far ended and she stared at her right hand. Or what used to be her right hand. She was staring at a hoof.
In a panic, she looked at her left hand. It was still a hand, but her fingernails were coarser and more calloused than ever, as if it were transforming. She looked up at Bruce, who was grinning widely.
"Help me!" she yelled, raising up her hoof. "What is this? What have you done to me?"
"This is Pleasure Island Cruise, dear," he answered back condescendingly. "You can't be surprised that somewhere along this adventure you would turn into a donkey."
Samantha turned toward a wall, in which semi-reflective metal surface she could see that she now had huge front teeth, pointed ears, and when she tried to stand, she found that her hips had rotated and kept her legs and torso at a ninety-degree angle. Samantha screamed.