(Man to Cow)



Denise Miller twirled in place, ignoring the looks of the townsfolk. Of course the Philistines were wary of her magic, they always were. It didn’t bother her. Much.

The blonde flicked some of her hair over her right shoulder, barely suppressing a scowl. All of them were holding small trinkets that lent them a resistance to her spells, as they’d been taught by her mentor. That was before her mentor had ended up as a nice Shetland pony, unfortunately after they’d taken the woman’s lesson to heart.

The cowbell jingled on her waist as she skipped through the square, her eyes darting from denizen to denizen like a shark searching for prey. None of them were open, all of them looking to her with clear and pronounced scowls.

The expressions brought her warmth deep in her heart, as she imagined all of them changing to her whims, transforming into bestial, humiliating bodies.

Someday, she’d find someone. Someday, she’d

Denise stopped.

There.

She turned, a slow smile dawning on her face. There was a stranger in the village, an American by the looks of him. He was clearly harassing some of the locals with his tourist questions, bothering them by taking photos of them.

It was almost comical to watch, the locals turning to her with hope in their eyes, rather than disdain. She beamed, and the cowbell clanked at her side as she moved closer to him, closer to…

“Travis!” The man smiled openly, pointing to his chest. The locals didn’t seem to understand him, but he was used to that. Europe was full of so many cultures that he just wanted to learn about them all! “I’m Travis. And you are?”

The old woman harrumphed, turning from him with a scowl. She tossed a radish into her wicker-weave basket, a motion that could have been torn from the mind of a slightly racist author that had no idea how to write backwater European villages.

“Hi there!” A female voice chirped from behind him. The scruffy-looking man turned, a smile brightening his tanned features as he looked to the cute blonde. She was around his age, and she looked like there was music in her soul.

He snapped a photo of her quickly, hands working his camera in that fashion only expert tourists possess. “I’m Travis!” He repeated himself, extending a hand towards her. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet someone who understands English.”

“I’m Denise, and don’t worry-everyone here knows English. They just think you’re appallingly irritating, and the sort of person they’d sooner see gone.” Denise chirped, speaking the harsh words as brightly as discussing good weather.

Before Travis could fully process her words, she slipped a cowbell around his neck, letting its soft ring fill his ears. Its effects were immediate and violent, Travis’s belt and jeans snapping open as a large, swollen growth blossomed from between his abs and his cock.

It was a thick, pink, fleshy sack with four long teats. Travis recognized it immediately for what he was-there was no mistaking a cow’s udder. Still, he couldn’t believe what his eyes clearly told him, or the fact that he could feel the air blowing against the leathery hide.

He reached a trembling hand to the sloshing sack, grunting as he felt his palm against it as surely as though it were pressed against his chest. The udder was attached to him, was a part of him. “No way.” He managed at length.

“Ooh, that’s really interesting! Udder first, not too common.” Denise giggled, grabbing his teats harder with her delicate hands.

Her grip was firm in spite of its softness, and Travis felt his new udders grow stiff with arousal. They weren’t the only thing to stiffen, his cock hardening and pressing against the sloshing pink sack. “OoooOOOOH!” A low slipped from past his lips, like a mixture of a human moan and a moo.

She brushed her pinkies against the tips of his teats, giggling as his body continued to change, spurred on by the stimulation of his fat udder. His ears stretched out longer and longer, growing thick and dark fur across their floppy length.

A half-formed denial died in his throat as his tongue lolled from his mouth, slapping against his chin with a sloppy, wet smack. The young man groaned, baring his teeth as they began to broaden, to coarsen in his mouth.

It was as terrifying as it was arousing, his body beginning to change of her accord. He could feel her pulling on his udder, but she wasn’t tugging on his teats to milk him. No, she knew fully well that she was teasing him, turning him on and setting his changes into overdrive.

“PuhlOOOth!” Travis slurred, gaining a distinctive lisp as his lips thickened. His nose broadened as if to match, nostrils flaring as they grew larger and larger and larger still. His eyes began to move to the sides of his head as it stretched away from the rest of him; as fur itched its way from his pores.

His neck broadened beneath the bell, thickening and stripping him of his human voice. Granted, he could still make half-approximations at human sounds. But that was all they would ever be, they’d never ascent to the dignified status given to words.

“Wgghnyy?” He managed one of these sounds now, looking to her with his wide, terrified cow eyes.

The girl giggled, then pressed her hands into his udder, pulling milk from the fleshy sack into his teats. Travis could feel the warm liquid just barely pressing against his nipples, so teasingly close to release. His cock throbbed against his udder, though it felt smaller than it had a moment before.

Somehow his cowy face must have been capable of expressing horror, because the girl giggled with a sadistic glee. “What? You didn’t think that male cows had udders, did you? Honestly, you Americans and your education system…”

“PugghloOOOth!” Travis pleaded, panting hotly. His heart pounded in his chest, which was beginning to broaden. He could tell, thanks to the sudden tightness of his shirt. Somehow that didn’t seem as important as the milk just barely straining at his teats.

“Please? Please what?” The girl grinned, brushing her thumbs along the hide of his udder.

“MOOLK MOOOOO!” Travis lowed, tossing his head and flopping his large ears in the process. His heartbeat seemed to echo in his ears like staccato drums of thunder. His world was dimming around him, revolving only around the girl and her hands.

“On all fours, beast.” She emphasized the last word, dropping to a kneel so that Travis could do as asked.

That was all she said. There was no kindness to it, nor was there a further taunt. Rather, it was a command like a master would issue a pet. And for a moment, for an awful moment, Travis nearly gave in.

He wobbled on his feet, reaching out to the ground. He wanted, needed to get milked. But… He swayed an ass that was much fatter than it had been a few minutes ago, indecision forestalling him. He didn’t want to be a cow, didn’t want his hands to be pressed on that rough ground.

Denise pinched his teats harder, and twin drops of milk welled out from them. It was like a firecracker going off inside his head, all thought ceasing to exist, only primal need coursing to the forefront of his being. He fell onto his hands, which clopped on the ground as his ample gut pressed against Denise’s back.

“ClOOOp?” Travis bellowed, looking to his hands in shock and finding only hoof. His hands had cramped as he’d fallen, hardening into the useless limbs of a pack animal. They were now little more than thick masses of enamel, which scuffed against the ground as he swayed in place.

His heart raced faster. He wanted to say it was because of fear. He knew it was because of exhilaration. The man could feel his limbs stretching, growing longer and giving him a height that would be imposing were it not for the weight of his body.

Travis had always been fit, had always been eye candy. Now he looked like he’d indulged in any candy his eyes could find. His body was bloated past the point of fatness, past the point of obesity. His clothes were strained tight against his flabby, fat form and they creaked in protest with every breath he took.

“UGHMMOOO!” There was no word behind this exhalation, there didn’t need to be. Travis simply needed to express how tight his clothes were on him, how much they constrained his growing bulk. At least, that’s what he thought. The truth was more sinister: he hadn’t tried to speak in words because he could no longer remember how.

Denise giggled, a quiet sound that rang clear in Travis’s large cow ears. He swiveled them to the sound of her giggle, visibly wincing at the soft patter of milk on the cobblestones beneath him. It was a constant drip, drip, drip that made him yearn for more, ache for the day when he could spill his milk onto it as a dumb beast.

Drool, a thick rope of it, dripped from his enlarged lips. He didn’t even try to slurp it up, losing more and more of his mind with every passing second that she teased him.

A distant part of him remembered that he hadn’t felt his cock in some time, and he swished his tail against-tail? Tail… He’d grown it when he’d fallen, hadn’t he? Or had he always had it? Travis couldn’t trust his mind anymore, he could only trust what he felt.

And right now, his tufted tail couldn’t feel his testicles, or his throbbing shaft. All they could feel was a wet, warm, puffed pussy and a tiny twitching cow clit. The motion of his fur against his new female sex brought another wordless moo to Travis’s lips, one that seemed to echo around the village.

The townsfolk were watching him now, some with pity, some with dread, some with amusement. For the first time since he’d started to change, Travis felt shame. He knew how he looked now: a cow in human clothes, teased to madness by the witch who was so close to milking him.

Worse, a part of him didn’t care. A part of him thought that all of this was okay, as long as it meant she was milked. It was a part of him that was growing and growing with every passing second, asserting her dominance over his psyche.

“What’s the matter, Travis? Or should I call you Trisha? No… Let’s go with Tilly, that’s an easy name for a cow like you to remember.” Denise called from beneath the addled cow. Then she squeezed his udder hard, pushing a torrent of milk through the sack to his teats to his nipples.

He could feel the rush building, and he knew that there was no way he could resist. Even if he had the muscles to keep the milk from gushing out of his full udder, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. All Travis knew was that the motion was irresistible.

The milk broke free of her udders, and time stood still. Hot, carnal pleasure coursed through her nerves, like Cupid had taken a TASER to her soul. Her tail thrashed from side to side and her mouth opened, eyes glazing, humanity slipping from the vapid orbs.

Her clothes tore from her bulky body in an almost comical explosion, revealing her white-and-black spotted fur to the world. It exposed the fact that she was a cow, nothing more than a cow, forever a cow. It was all she could think off, all that she wanted to think of.

The torrent of milk was reducing her mind, expanding her body, completing her transformation. Tilly didn’t care.

“MOOO! UHMMOOO!!! MOOOOO!” She lowed again and again and again, until her throat was sore. Tilly didn’t care, Tilly didn’t need to care, Tilly just needed to get milked more and more until all of her humanity was cream spilled on the ground beneath her.

She felt the hands tugging at her udder, practiced motions squirting out all of the human intellect that had belonged to Travis. Tilly wouldn’t miss it; couldn’t even remember enough of it to miss. Her cow pussy clenched as she orgasmed just from being milked, the stimulation to her teats too much to bear.

The girl beneath her said something that she couldn’t process, something she no longer had the mental capacity to understand. “GUOOOO!” Tilly replied, her massive, fat body jiggling as she announced her pleasure, heralding the birth of a bovine and the death of a man in the same breath.