Strangely Grateful

Published: Jan 1st, 2012
Last Edit: Nov 19th, 2015


Fate strikes twice in the same day, as spirits use a warning to beckon and dare...


curse (0) bull (0) endowed (0) barn (0) magic (0)
N/A User Rating
3 Favorites


NOTICE: This story was written for fun and may not be worthwhile reading fo a literary purest.

The doctor told Tom to try walking, to do something for daily exercise. He had gone to the doctor with a complaint about his often dire need to urinate, only to discover he was close to the limit of not tolerating the level of blood sugar, making him a borderline diabetic. Therefore he began to take noontime walks along the country side roads, which helped keep his sugars under control.


It happened on day as he walked that the western sky became dark and when lightning flashed, Tom sought for a place to sit out the storm in safety.


He seeing an old red barn set back into the trees and looking somewhat like a derelict, he thought it as good a place as any to go and wait until the storm passed.  Tom leaped the old split rail wood fence and dashed across a grassy pasture to the barn entrance. He reached the barn just as the storm became violent and he looking back to where having leaped the fence to then running, saw a lightning bolt strike the very spot, as toasting the ground there, the grasses and the fence post.


“Wow that was close; I guess fate was on my side!” Tom scared, spoke aloud only to hear a voice from inside the barn speak and suggest a different opinion.


Hearing the other voice there Tom turned to look and did not know what to expect, he saw only wooden walls, several stalls, and not a sign of any human.


“Who said that, show yourself, come out, do not hide I am here for just keeping out of the rain, hello?” Tom yelled, but again he heard only silence. Curiosity got the better of him and he walked further into the barn, he hearing only the hard rain pounding on the barn roof.


Walking slowly and cautiously, Tom moved to the first stall and peered inside seeing nothing, not even straw on the floor or any signs some animal used the stall as a home.


He walked deeper into the dim light, as the storm clouds blocked the sun rays and made a bright day into near sundown. As he came past stall four, a flash of lightning lit the barn, and Tom saw a sign nailed to a wooden support post. He approached the white painted sign with black painted lettering, and stood before it he read what someone wrote.



This barn is not real it is a curse waiting unto all who dare enter!

Take care not to speak or say the name of any animal breed,

Lest thee and that animal become then as relation.


Tom was a grown man, he did not believe in fairytales and why someone took the time and effort to put that sign there seemed a fool joke. He then walked past the sign and checked the remaining stalls before turning around and walking to stand near the sign.


As then the storm passed by and the rain slowed as quickly stopped, Tom gave a last look into the dark recesses of the barn, and laughed.


Then before he was to walk outside and return to walking a muddy road to home, he said, “Whoever is in this barn the joke is on you, your words and sign are bull shit!”


That said, Tom walked toward the barn open doors only to have the suddenly swing shut as if to lock him inside the barn. He stood for an instant by being startled, then ran at the doors, he pushing at them, and pounding a fist on the door, was angry, he yelled then, “Hey, hey out there this is not funny! You let me out of here! Hey, hey, damn it me this is a bull shit of a joke, you let me out…, ouch, ugg, what the?”


As from in the dark came and surrounded Tom what he could not see in the dim light but felt as something sifted up his pant legs through his underwear, and spread to encompass his chest, neck and attack his face.


He struggled to fight what felt like swirling sand scratching at his face, his skin, his body, legs everywhere upon his personage. When Tom screamed from the weird pains he felt the sandy feeling entered his mouth but did not go down his throat or up his nose.


During all the attack Tom heard a faint but nagging voice say to him, “You were warned!”


After each time the voice plagued him, nagging at him, Tom felt weaker, as weakening he fell to his knees and then so drained of strength he fell face down into the dry dirt floor there in the barn aisle.


The rays of a returning sun beaming through the then opened barn doors helped to reawaken a sleeping doubting as an angry Thomas. The wild times and the cutting sand had gone and as Tom awoke to seeing not just the sun shining, he knew the sun was rising in the east. This was the next day, another day, a new day and feeling his strong as masculine self again, Tom blinking his eyes to clear his view, looked outside the barn, seeing the green grass, he felt enticed to go, to walk outside and begin to partake in the bounty offered by nature.


Standing and feeling unsure as to walking, Tom staggered a short walk to just outside the barn where he slowly lowered himself down to stand as if on all fours. He eyed the grass and it appealed oddly to him as if proper he should begin to eat his morning breakfast.


Face lowered, Tom licked the grass, seemed to know the taste and began grabbing the blades in bunches using his lips and cutting them free from the ground with his teeth, he then munched several healthy mouthfuls before swallowing the green glob.


“What, why did I just do what I think I did?” Tom thinking asked himself why he was acting like might some grazing animal.


Tom sat up on his haunches; he looked around to see if there was anybody looking at what he had just done.


 Looking around, Tom saw not another sole person, nor did he hear anything but birds chirping and the warm wind blowing at his ears. The flavor of the munched and chewed grass was still in his mouth as he felt drawn to lower himself to the way he stood and wished rather heartily to begin eating the green grasses.


His, a mind then blank of thoughts, no worries, nothing to distract Tom from filling his stomach with the bounty of green grass there in his pasture.


“Pasture, his pasture, it was green, greener since the rain of the day before so why did that bother him,” Tom thought. He then turned to see he had wandered as eating to being a far distance from the barn. He tried to remember what he seemed to know but had trouble thinking. He paused and stood upright, saw the wood fence and felt a urge to sit or lean against it as he thought about what he had forgotten.

Looking, seeing all around him, Tom took a deep inhaled breath and thought to sigh it out only to hear from his mouth came a long low toned “Moo!”


Seeing, he looking down saw what the rushing sand and the barn curse had done. His skin was then black, his body, his entire self was covered with a black as soft pelt of fur. He had legs almost fully changed to being those proper for a bull; his right hand was a cloven hoof as was his left hand had three black and furry fingers. He felt his tail sway and brush over what before his buttock kept hidden was then out in the sunshine for all to see.


Patting his face with the useable hand he discovered his head was that of a bull, he had horns grown long as sharp to points. He had big bovine like floppy ears and a strong neck well-able to hold up his changed, then grown thick boned head. He knew it should scare him, but for some unknown reason his changed self pleased him greatly.


He sitting against the fence seemed to relish what all he became and the breeze wafted to his broader nostrils the faint scent of cows being nearby. “Cows, large as horny cows, their scent suggesting brutish ideas to his instinctive thinking frame of mind. Cow, and their leathery, weathered worn pussies, he knew he should give it a sniff first, as to check for  spicy scent. If the scent seemed righteous, his next thought was to lick at those folds of cowhide, with the hope to gain their flavor, to stimulate his bull cock before rising to mount, mate, and breed.


The thoughts then for wanting to be with a cow and not his wife at home, worked to stir a coming arousal. As he sat leaning upon the fence, he felt something begin to stir. He eyed down to watch as from his bellied sheath rose a pink colored, blunt ended, tapered along its length of some two feet of pure bovine bull contoured cock. Tom touched it and with hisby then a three fingered furry hand. He began to pump it, stroking it, feeling the want of a release, he began masturbating until his cock spewed forth such a gush of  cum it hurt his much bigger balls.


Feeling fully removed from  all his human concerns, Tom walked uprightly as he crossed the road, to leap the far side fence and landing on all fours he pranced happily toward where that lovely scent seemed to originate. He felt a sense of freedom though there was a cost, given time and after several cow vulva conquests, any thought of his wife, marriage, family, or future plans faded into some oblivion.






Thanks for the kind sentiment, Tom deserves every cow he can get, even if he isn't keeping score!
If I found myself at that barn I'd make sure Tom got another cow to breed...