Down on the Farm

[a farm where men are given a drug that doubles their muscles--but turns them into a farm animal for 30 days first]

[animal TF, humiliation]

The barn was quiet, except for the occasional lowing of cattle or the rustling of straw. Early morning sun filtered through the gaps in the wooden walls, casting a golden glow across the spacious interior. I leaned against a post, pitchfork in hand more for show than anything. I didn’t have much real work to do; the real entertainment was what had started arriving a few days back. Big, burly bodybuilders—men who looked like they could bench press my tractor—had begun trickling in, each with a strange, desperate look in their eyes. They wanted something that only this farm could offer.

They had heard rumors, of course. The drug we got ahold of had an undeniable effect: thirty days after a single shot, men BLEW UP with muscles. Seriously, guys who were already turning sideways just to fit through doors ended up unable to get through them after! The catch? For the first thirty days after injection, these big steak-eating hulks would turn into a random farm animal. And that’s where I came in.

The first one to arrive was Darren. A massive man, easily six and a half feet tall with muscles that bulged under his shirt in a way that seemed almost cartoonish. He looked at me with a mixture of disdain and desperation as I directed him to the barn.

I get it; in their world, I’m just a scrawny nothing. But Darren was in my world now, and pretty soon he’d realize that I was the one in charge.

We made small talk as we walked. Darren was a personal trainer by day, the biggest bouncer at a club by night. I can’t imagine disobeying a command from this 4XL-wearing beast in a tight staff t-shirt! I bet drunk 20-somethings did exactly as Darren commanded or else got tossed into the street like they were nothing.

It was too bad Darren didn’t seem to want to chat; I had a bunch of questions about how he got so big. But by the time he made it to the door, it had already begun. His hands, powerful mitts that could bench press 500 pounds, had started to harden, his fingers fusing together into something hoof-like. He stumbled, catching himself against the barn door as he looked down in horror.

"Looks like the drug's working its magic, eh, big guy?" I couldn’t help but smirk as I watched his face contort with fear. "You’ll be in good hands for the next thirty days. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re nice and comfortable."

Darren tried to respond, but all that came out was a guttural braying sound. His nose elongated slightly, his nostrils flaring as his face started to push out into a muzzle. His muscles twitched and convulsed as his entire body seemed to rebel against him.

"Better get you out of those clothes before you… oops, there you go.” Darren snorted as his hips rotated, his eyes (now on opposite sides of his head) rolling wildly as he fell forward on all fours. Then his waistline blew out, bursting through his clothes. It happened with most guys; cleaning up the remnants of their last outfit as men was just part of my job.

“You’re going to make a fine mule, Darren," I said, circling him as his body continued its horrifying transformation–all those beautiful muscles buried under bestial fur! "Bet you never thought all that muscle would be so useless, huh? Can’t lift weights with hooves, can you?"

His eyes, wide with panic, met mine as the last remnants of his human form faded away. Before long, he was standing there, a fully-formed mule, snorting and stomping the ground, trying to understand what had happened.

I patted his now furry shoulder, chuckling softly. "There you go, big fella. Welcome to the farm. I’ll take real good care of you."

Over the next few days, more men arrived, each one going through their own grotesque metamorphosis. There was Carlos, a latino brute who stood a full head taller than me with arms thicker than most men’s thighs. Good god, did he have an air of confidence around him; I’d imagine with his massive size and shockingly beautiful face, he disarmed every room he walked into (and knew it!). And of course, he wanted more, so he was willing to submit to our farm’s treatment. Only a few steps onto the property, his skin began to sprout coarse, woolly fur, and his legs bent awkwardly into the shape of a sheep’s hindquarters, that confidence quickly fading.

"Hey, Carlos," I called out, leaning against the fence as he tried to bleat in protest, his powerful voice reduced to a pathetic baa. "Looks like you’re just another lamb now. I wonder if you’ll be as tough when you’re out there grazing in the field. I bet you’ll fit right in with the rest of the flock."

Carlos’ new sheep form looked at me with a mixture of confusion and helplessness. It was almost pitiful, watching him struggle to maintain his dignity as his once-imposing body was now nothing more than livestock.

Then there was Mike, a shorter, stockier bodybuilder with a thick neck and a deep voice that could command attention in any room. He looked like a wrestler, and I got a glimpse, as he lumbered in (swinging his arms the way guys with big backs always do) of just how powerful he was. And the smell! He wore cologne (which is odd; didn’t he realize where he was going?) but underneath was a deep, musky smell, like even a shower wouldn’t keep his testosterone-drenched smell away for long.

As Mike began his transformation, his skin turned leathery, his nose growing larger and more bulbous, until it was unmistakably that of a pig. He tried to speak, but all that came out were grunts and squeals as his human intelligence slowly ebbed away, replaced by something more primal.

"Look at you now, Mike," I taunted, laughing as his human form was replaced by that of a pig. "Are you one of those guys who only eats chicken and rice? Hunh? Oh, you can’t talk, can you? Well, you’ll enjoy the slop I give you–trust me. You little oinkers go nuts for it!"

Mike’s eyes, still holding a glimmer of human thought, stared at me in despair as he struggled to adjust to his new reality.

Over the next few weeks, I took particular pleasure in making their lives as miserable as possible. The once-mighty Darren was now burdened with carrying heavy loads across the farm, his powerful muscles reduced to a workhorse’s toil. Proud, invincible Carlos was shorn regularly, his wool taken from him as he stood there, helpless and humiliated. And Mike, well, he was nothing more than a pig in the muck, now only focused on rooting around for food.

I made sure to remind them daily of their reduced status, taunting them as they tried to cling to the remnants of their former selves. "Just dumb animals," I’d say as I tossed them scraps or ordered them to do the most demeaning tasks. "If a pretty lady walked in she’d wrinkle her nose up at you stinky beasts, wouldn’t she? All because you just HAD to get bigger. What if I told you it was all a ruse? That this is permanent–until it’s slaughter time, that is!"

(Technically, I’m not allowed to mention “slaughter” to the transformed clients, even if I’m joking. But some days I get bored! And I worry that these big, privileged muscleheads aren’t learning the lessons that being on all fours in the mud all day should be teaching them.)

When the thirty days finally passed, and the transformations reversed, each man returned to his human form, but with bodies more massive and muscular than before. Darren’s once formidable frame had become almost monstrous in its size, Carlos looked like a living statue, and Mike had become a hulking mass of muscle that seemed almost inhuman.

Yet, despite their newfound power, there was something broken in them. The memories of their time as mere animals lingered, and the humiliation had left its mark. They were no longer the proud, arrogant men they once were.

"Looks like you boys got what you wanted," I said as they headed for the bus in the change of clothes they’d brought with them a month back. "I mean, you’re BIG now, but you COULD be even bigger! You know the deal. Another thirty days, another transformation. And I’ll be here, waiting, ready to take care of you."

They didn’t say a word, but I could see it in their eyes. They would be back. The promise of more muscle was too much to resist, even if it meant enduring the humiliation of becoming a mere farm animal once more. And I’d be right here, ready to remind them of their true place.

THEN came the next batch.

The first to show up was Jake, one of those guys who’s so thick he has to waddle around. His dark hair was slicked back, and he wore a tank top that did little to hide his plump bulky muscles. He had a cocky grin, clearly unbothered by what lay ahead.

"Ready to get even bigger, Jake?" I asked, leaning against the barn door as he approached. His confidence made him an easy target, and I could already see the arrogance in his eyes.

"More than ready," he replied, his voice deep and smooth, the kind that turned heads in any room. "This is going to be worth every minute."

"Is that so?" I said, smirking as I watched his hands start to tremble. The transformation had already begun, though Jake seemed oblivious. "You’re not worried about the animal part? You think you can handle it?"

Jake shrugged, his muscles rippling with the motion. "What’s thirty days? I’ve sacrificed a whole lot in my career, and I can–bg-GAWK!"

His eyes went wide as he clapped a hand over his mouth, shocked at the involuntary sound. His fingers twitched, the nails thickening and darkening into claws. His eyes widened as his arms began to shrink, the muscles deflating slightly as a layer of fine feathers sprouted along his skin. He opened his mouth to speak again, but all that came out was a squawk.

"Looks like you’re going to be a chicken, Jake," I said, my voice laced with mock concern. "That tough guy attitude isn’t going to help you now, is it? You’re just a bird, weak and flightless. Bet you didn’t think your muscles would be useless, did you?" I started helping him with his clothes. He went along with it, but clearly looked panicked as his guts started to rearrange themselves.

Jake’s once powerful legs buckled, his knees bending backward as they transformed into scaly, bird-like limbs. His face elongated into a beak, his body shrinking further until he was nothing more than a puffed-up rooster, clucking nervously as he tried to make sense of his new form.

"Don’t worry, Jake," I said, picking him up and holding him at arm’s length. "I’ll take good care of you. You’ll fit right in with the other chickens."

The next to arrive was Tyler, who looked like he wrestled grizzly bears for a living–and could fit right in with them! He was tall, so effortlessly large with a layer of soft black hair all over. He was a bit quieter than the others, more reserved, but there was still that air of superiority about him, as if he thought he was better than everyone else.

He didn’t speak much as I led him to the barn, his eyes scanning the surroundings with mild curiosity. But I could see the change in his demeanor as the transformation started. His legs wobbled, his stance becoming awkward as his feet began to stretch and harden, the nails thickening into hooves.

"Is it… is it happening?" Tyler asked, his voice shaky as he looked down at his changing body. He unbuckled his belt on his own, stripping out of his white tank top as his bones and tendons twisted and crunched into new formations.

"You’re turning into a goat, Tyler," I said, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. "Bet you didn’t see that coming, did you? Your days of towering over everyone else are over. Enjoy your break from people gawking over all those big muscles!"

Tyler’s mouth opened in shock as his face began to elongate, his once handsome features pushing out into a goat’s snout. His eyes grew wide with fear as his torso thickened with coarse fur, his arms shrinking as his human shape disappeared entirely.

"You’re going to be grazing out in the field with the others," I said, my tone mocking. "Just another goat in the herd. From protein shakes to tin cans–quite a downgrade!"

Tyler’s new goat form bleated pitifully as he stumbled around the barn, his once graceful movements replaced by awkward, clumsy steps. I watched him with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, knowing that the humiliation had only just begun.

But it was the third man who gave me the most pause, the one I had been secretly waiting for. It was David, my former high school crush. Back then, David had been the epitome of everything I had admired—studly captain of the football team, adored by men and lusted after by women (and some men, heh!). We got drunk at a party once and I, silly kid that I was, thought he was coming on to me. Turns out he was just sharing moonshine, but I made a mistake and said… stuff that I shouldn’t have. It didn’t go well.

Now, all these years later, David had grown into a massive freaks, twice as wide as when I’d seen him last. He wouldn’t be running down the football field with THOSE big thighs! I could still see that same smug expression on his face as he approached the barn.

"Never thought I’d see you again, David," I said, my voice cold as I looked him over. "You here to get even bigger? Figured a guy your size wouldn’t even need it."

David’s eyes flicked over me dismissively. "I, uh… do what I have to do to be the best." Coward wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. I bet he knew what would happen, how his status was about to change in front of the guy he beat up and humiliated in high school.

"Looks like the farm’s got something special in store for you, David," I said, watching as his feet began to widen, the toes merging into large, heavy hooves. His legs thickened even more, the muscles expanding even further as his skin took on a rough, leathery texture.

David frowned, confusion and fear mixing on his face as his nose began to stretch forward, his lips pulling back into a large, squared-off snout. "What… what’s happening?" He grimaced as horns burst from his forehead. He opened his mouth to speak but a long, pathetic, “MoooooOOOOO!” came from him. He let out another, as if making the sound gave him some relief.

"You’re turning into a bull," I said, unable to hide the satisfaction in my voice. "A big, dumb animal, just like you always were. All those good looks, your perfect genetics… You’ll be nothing but livestock now!"

David’s eyes bulged as his chest expanded, his arms shrinking into his torso as his shoulders grew broader and more powerful. His entire body convulsed as the transformation completed, leaving him standing there as a massive bull, his eyes still filled with the same arrogance, but now tinged with a deep, helpless fear.

"How’s it feel, David?" I asked, stepping closer to the now fully transformed bull. "Nobody will care about how pretty you are, how big you built yourself. Your only value on the farm is in work. Not special, not loved, just an animal."

David’s bull form snorted angrily, pawing the ground as he tried to assert his dominance. But I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the realization that he was no longer in control. This happens with all of them: they’re so certain they can maintain their humanity, then their animal impulses take over.

Over the next thirty days, I made sure that David’s time on the farm was as humiliating as possible. He was put to work alongside the other bulls, plowing fields and hauling heavy loads, his once-human intelligence now reduced to basic animal instincts. I taunted him mercilessly, criticizing how slow he’d become. He’d just sadly moo, then drop a cow patty without even realize it. I’d hold my nose and tell him what a disgusting animal it was.

Cruel? Sure! Undeserved? That’s up for debate.

And when the time finally came for him to change back, David was ABSURDLY large. We had to put him on the back of a truck just to get him home! It was hard to imagine what a guy that big would even do–he couldn’t fly on a plane without buying a whole row, couldn’t fit in most cars anymore. But he sure was gigantic! I bet he’d wow them in those little competitions in his little panties when he stomped his massive body around and flexed with the other muscleheads.

"You got what you wanted, David," I said, looking at him with a mixture of pity and satisfaction. "But I got what I wanted too. You’ll never be the same again. You’ll always remember what it felt like to be nothing more than an animal."

David didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. He would be back, just like the others, desperate for more muscle, willing to endure the humiliation all over again. And I would be here, waiting, ready to remind him and every other man who stepped onto this farm of their true place in the world.