Bovine Bliss

by Diane
Published: May 13th, 2006


Women to Cows, and later Everyone to Cows & Bulls..


cow (1) bovine (1) transgender (0) lactation (0) mental shift (0) feral (0) nonconsensual (0) bestiality (0) slow (0)
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Bovine Bliss
By: Diane

Rachel cursed her luck. Raining as it can only in West Texas, flat tire, alone in the middle of nowhere and it was nearly midnight. She picked up her cell phone and tried to dial AAA. Great, she thought, no signal. What else can go wrong?

Movement in the rearview mirror drew her attention. A vehicle was approaching. Reluctantly, she got out of the car to wave it down. The vehicle, it turned out to be a van, slowed to a stop. Two very large men got out.

"Trouble?" asked the nearer of the two.

"Flat tire," Rachel responded. "Thanks for stopping."

"Glad to help," smiled the other. "Why don't you wait in the van while we check it out."

"Thanks again," said Rachel relaxing a bit. She climbed into the passenger's seat of the van to get out of the rain. She saw the two open the trunk of her Lexus and fish about for the spare and jack. She relaxed into the seat.

Suddenly, a hand came from behind her and clapped a cloth over her mouth and nose. Rachel struggled for a time but the chloroform proved too much for her and the darkness closed in.

* * * * * *

Rachel came slowly back to consciousness. She heard vague, unidentifiable sounds around her. She sat up slowly and realized she was laying on a bed of straw. But if this was a barn, it was certainly the cleanest barn she'd ever seen.

She slowly stood, checking for any damage as she did so. She found that her right ankle was shackled to a ring firmly set in the floor. The leg iron was too tight to slip her foot through, but loose enough not to chafe her skin. That is, if she didn't pull at it.

She heard the sound of a key in a lock and a door that took at least half of one of the walls slid open. A young woman of about Rachel's own age, late twenties or early thirties, entered the windowless room. The woman was dressed all in white from her neck to the floor. In fact, her skirt dragged on the floor just a bit. She moved as if she had not yet fully recovered from a leg or back injury, slightly stooped, somewhat hesitant. Other than that, Rachel realized, this woman could be a model in any magazine she chose.

"Hi, I'm Jessica," the newcomer announced in a rather friendly, pleasant voice. "Sorry for the..." She motioned toward the shackles. "We're all prisoners here."

Before Rachel could asked any questions, a man dressed in a white lab coat bustled into the room.

"That'll be all, Jessica," he admonished. "You know the rules here."

He had an unkempt appearance, from his dissheveled salt-and-pepper hair to his wrinkled lad coat to his scuffed shoes. His age was indeterminate and he spoke with just a hint of an accent. European, but beyond that Rachel could not even guess.

Jessica hurried as best she could from the room.

"Well..." he began, then consulted a clipboard, "...Rachel. How are we this morning?"

"How are w...? How are...? Who the hell are YOU? What the hell do you think you're doing? You kidnap me? Chain me to the floor? And ask me how I am?"

"I did not kidnap you, nor did I chain you. I maaay have given the orders, but I did not do the deed. So..."

"So?!? You gave the orders! You're just as guilty as the ones who did it all!"

"Ah...ethics. I never bother with those. Oh, but all these clothes. This will never do. You must take them off. All of them."

"When pigs fly, I will!"

"Always so stubborn." He turned toward the door. "Gentlemen, assist the subject, please."

The two men from the highway came into the room each sporting a grin that bespoke pure evil. Without a word they stepped up to Rachel and, despite her vigorous and empassioned efforts to the contrary, began disrobing her. Actually, they literally tore the clothing from her. Her punches and screams only seemed to encourage their efforts.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Lab Coat said as the two henchmen exited. "Now, Rachel, you can see there is no escape. In fact, if you escaped this room, you would still be in the building. If you escaped the building, you would be in the jungle. Oh, yes, I am afraid you are no longer in the Texas desert. If you survive the jungle, this is an island, set in shark-infested waters. I really need to leave you in the leg irons?"

"I absolutely refuse to cooperate and there's no way you can make me cooperate."

Lab Coat sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. The leg irons stay. But...eventually you WILL cooperate. Perhaps not first. But you will cooperate." He picked up a syringe from a tray near the door. "Shall we begin? Gentleman, would you please restrain the subject."

Once that task was accomplished, and not easily done due to Rachel's efforts to the contrary, Lab Coat stepped forward and injected her with the contents of the hypodermic. As the contents coursed through Rachel's veins, she not so gradually lost consciousness.

* * * * * *

As Rachel regained consciousness, she realized she was in a nicely furnished room. Almost as if it were in a five star hotel, except there was no telephone, only an intercom-like device, and no windows whatsoever. It occurred to her that she had no way of knowing just how long she had been out of it. It could have been a few minutes or a few weeks.

As she threw back the covers she decided it must have been several weeks as her legs looked positively furry. Additionally, when she tried to stand, she found her legs to be stiff. Curiously, as well, she could only be anything approaching comfortable by standing on tiptoe.

She found a floor-length velour dressing robe on the foot of the bed. It definitely felt better to have something covering her nakedness.

Rachel set about exploring the room. She quickly found that her muscles had atrophied during her coma. She found her walking to be stiff and stilted. Then it dawned on her. She was walking just like Jessica had been that first day.

For some reason, Rachel was not as disturbed by these observations as she maybe should have been. In fact, she had not even noted that the second and third toes, and the fourth and fifth, seemed to be merging while her big toe was actually higher up each leg. Nor had she noticed that there was a somewhat familiar "non-pattern" to the coloration of the hair on her legs.

A short time later, a previously unnoticed slot at the bottom of the door opened and a tray with a bowl of cereal, an apple and a glass of juice was slid in. The door remained locked as it had been. Rachelnow realized just how hungry she had become. The offered meal quickly disappeared.

Later, Rachel watched some television, but the channels were quite limited as to choice, surfed the internet but found she could not communicate outbound, or simply paced. About six to eight hours after the first meal, a second, just like the first, was again provided. It, too, was quickly consumed. A few hours later, the lights dimmed and Rachel lay down, falling asleep almost immediately.

This became her routine over the next several "days." However, due to the lack of windows, she could not be sure. She simply based her definition of a day upon the period between sleep intervals, but realized that she really had no way of measuring the length of her sleeps.

The subtle changes also continued, noted but with no apparent anxiety or even curiosity. The fusion of the toes completed and the toenails grew to cover the two new digits of each foot. The furriness on her legs had deepended and was progressing up her thighs. Her ears had become decidedly pointed and seemed to sit higher on her head than previously.

Over the course of a couple of days, all of Rachel's teeth fell out like baby teeth. They were replaced by teeth which felt broader and flatter to her tongue which, itself, felt almost too large for her mouth. In fact, had she bothered to notice, her mouth was pushing forward in order to accomodate the larger teeth and tongue.

A pain in her tailbone had only very recently subsided - unless Rachel sat in a manner that she decided was now incorrect. New pains had, however, developed in both her knees and hands.

By her own count, Rachel had now been a prisoner here for at least a week. There had been no variance in the routine: two meals (so far, always the same), lots of boring time, then a sleep period.

* * * * * *

There finally came a day, though, when she heard the sound of a key in the door's lock. Rachel froze in place with a look on her face that bore an amazing resemblance to a deer in the headlights. As Rachel stood there, shocked into silence and immobility, the door swung in and open. A figure was unceremoniously shoved into the room. The door was then pulled closed and again locked.

As soon as the door was locked, Rachel found she could once again move. However, she remained rooted where she was.

The creature before her - for it could only be called a creature - had fallen to all fours after being thrust into the room and appeared incapable of rising from that position. For all the world, it looked like a Brown Swiss cow, complete with udder, tail and horns, but there were some definite anomalies.

The forehooves looked more like two-fingered hands: the eyes were clearly blues, there were human breasts on the cows chest. But perhaps the most obvious anomaly was the blonde hairdo atop the bovine head, with the tuft at the end of the tail the same color. The hairdo actually seemed vaguely familiar to Rachel.

Suddenly, it dawned on her where she had seen that "do." "Jessica?"

"Rrrrrrrraysssll?" the creature moaned low.

"Jessica! It IS you! What...what has happened to you?"

"Dok-terrr. Whah 'ey doooooo!" Jessica lowed.

"Whadya mean 'What they do'?"

"DNnnnnnA 'plicin'," Jessica slurred. "We guinea pigs."

"WE are? But...I don't WANT to be a cow!"

"Tooooo late."

Rachel sat on the end of the bed and sobbed. Jessica moved closer in an effort to comfort the distraught girl. As she did, Rachel suddenly felt a compulsion to crawl to Jessica on all fours. The compulsion was too strong to resist. Once beside the transformed woman Rachel realized she wanted - no NEEDED - to suckle at the bulging udder.

As Rachel fed, Jessica stood patiently. Rachel could feel her tail lengthen, her ears complete, horns sprout, her own udder budded and, most painfully, her hips and pelvis realigned. From now on, Rachel would not be walking upright on two legs.

Neither noticed that the longer Rachel fed, the smaller Jessica's udder became. The rate of shrinkage was much faster than could be explained by withdrawal of the milk inside. Simultaneous changes in Jessica's genitals also went unnoted.

The next meal to be delivered consisted of a bowl of raw grain and a bowl of water. It was obvious this was for Jessica as Rachel had no interest in it and fed exclusively from Jessica's udder.

This became the pattern for the next week. However, at the end of that period, Rachel was forced to switch to the offered meal. A second bowl of grain and of water had appeared partway through the week. The portions had gradually increased as Jessica's milk decreased. They now contained full portions.

Jessica was no longer a cow, but a well-endowed bull. Her servings had also increased in size during the week and she, now he, was bulking up nicely. Also, she could barely talk anymore.

Both of the transformees were now having difficulty using the restroom.

One day, about a week and a half after Jessica had been brought to the room, Rachel began to feel a restlessness - an itch she could not scratch. As she nervously paced, she realized that Jessica was watching her intently.

"Wha? Wha'rrrre yoooo starrring a'?"


"Mmmme? Wha abou' mmme?"

"Yooooo 'ook goooood."

So saying, Jessica moved behind Rachel who found herself instinctively bracing her new body by spreading her hindlegs a bit. Jessica's massive new member slid from its sheath, then he reared up onto Rachel's back and impaled her on it. The sensation for each of them was indescribably pleasurable, especially after Jessica began pistoning his hips. When it came, the explosion was mutually and intensely satisfying.

Almost as soon as Jessica climbed off Rachel, the door opened and several large orderlies bustled in to literally herd the pair out of the room, down a hallway, out of the building, across an open lawn to a barn. During the trip, Jessica noted that her own arms and hands were now fully forelegs and hooves.

Jessica and Rachel were separated and placed in different stalls. Both were given a pitchfork full of fresh hay, a measure of grain and a bucket of water in a trough. Both transformees found themselves chewing cud in the off-feeding hours. Both were also highly embarassed the first time they had to relieve themself.

* * * * * *

A couple of days after being placed in the barn, both Jessica and Rachel were escorted from the stalls. Rachel was led to another part of the barn which was proving to be huge. She was placed in a narrow space between two other transformees and a stanchion was closed on each neck. Rachel could feel tubes being attached to the teats on her udder (her breasts having disappeared over the past week).

An electric hum preceded a rythmnic suctioning in the tubes and then the relief of being milked. Each pull of the milking machine was accompanied by a few hairs falling from Rachel's head - she was losing her human hair.

She looked to her right just as her neighbor looked her way.



On the left, "Aaannnnnnnaa."

After being milked, Rachel, Maureen and Anna were taken to a small pasture and released. As they liesurely explored this new "home," they idly munched on the grass. It tasted so sweet and so good.

Additional observation showed there to be many of these small enclosures, each with three to five cows. Occasionally a bull was led into an area to service the cows and keep their milk flowing. Some, like Rachel, were Holstein/Frisians, some Brown Swiss like Jessica and yet others were Guernseys.

This idyllic existence continued for some time. Rachel lost track of time, but her arms and hands completed as forelegs and hooves. In fact, once the transformation was complete, the only sign of any former existence was in the eyes. The eyes remained human and their original color.

* * * * * *

Then came a second fateful day. Rachel and Maureen were grazing, Anna was with a bull, when suddenly claxons sounded, seemingly from everywhere at once. Handlers, orderlies, security guards and lab-workers began scurrying everywhere. The four paused to stare at all the activity. Added to the claxons was much shouting and even screaming. It was obvious that panic had gripped the entire staff. Just as obvious, something of great import, and probably not good, had occurred.

The claxon eventually stopped, but the scurrying to and fro continued unabated. About that time, a helicopter lifted off and began to turn after it had cleared the height of the barn. The security guards fired on it and shot it down. It exploded on impact.

It was two days later that their handler finally came by to check on them. The girl was walking stiffly and sobbing. She removed the bull who had been happily servicing his impromptu harem in the interim.

It was a further couple of days later that she next returned. One of the security guards was with her. It was quite obvious that both were in the midst of transforming.

"A cow? I'm gonna be a cow? I'm a man fer cryin' out loud! Why won't I be a bull?" the guard whined.

"Don't need many bulls, even for all these cows and all us becoming cows. It's just a fact of cow physiology."

"Well, for the record, it sucks."

"Speaking of sucks." She quickly removed her uniform and started suckling at Maureen's udder.

The guard stared at her a moment, then pulled off his own uniform and got together with Rachel.

Similar scenes were taking place all over the island.

Within a month there were no more humans on the island. The total population (besides the native fauna) consisted of 112 bulls and 3479 cows, 512 of whom had once been staff members. While they could, they had discussed the bio accident that had occurred, so the original subjects had become aware of the situation.

There had also been initial speculation as to whether or not anyone got away from the island after the accident.

* * * * * *

"This Bulletin just in. Government officials in the Cayman Islands have declared a State of Quarantine for the island paradise. A mysterious epidemic seems to have broken out. Due to the unknown, and apparently uncurable, nature of the disease, absolutely no one is being permitted to leave the islands nor are others allowed in. Further details as they become available."


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