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One month. One month and three days had passed (to be exact) since Eric and Sandra Reimond came home as anthropomorphic beasts to their astonished son. One month in which they had to adapt to a life of farming and dairy production, with themselves as the livestock. It'd taken time, but they were beginning to grow used to the surreal state of things.

Eric's muscles rippled in the dying sun as he grunted and groaned. Behind him a plough. His powerful body pulled the heavy metal apparatus as if it were made of cardboard, cutting through the soil, overturning the earth; ready for sowing. This was the last field he needed to do before the season ended. Once he'd laid the seeds for next year's crop he could relax, for a while.

C'mon, almost there. Just a few more metres...

Acres upon acres of their very own land, just like it used to be when they got married. Back in business, baby! Though...a business of a very, very different sort. The sort no-one would ever believe if they didn't see it with their own eyes. And the Bovinex corporation had every intention to keep it that way.

They had enough crop-land to feed themselves, with plentiful overhead in case of any unforeseen events. On behalf of their new corporate masters they'd produce their own food, maintain their own homestead...basically run themselves. All the company wanted in return was a regular supply of 'vitamin-rich dairy extract'. Eric of course knew exactly what that euphemism meant, and from whom it was to be provided by.

He paused for a brief moment, thinking about Sandra and what she was currently up to. He supposed it was now four, five o'clock by now? She'd be preparing dinner.

Wonder what's cooking...

He'd grown particularly fond of her vegetable stew, given his now-herbivorous appetite. She had been quite the domestic goddess before all this. The woman could turn a dismal plate of tinned foods into a real feast back during their human lives. Thus, she turned her skill to preparing all sorts of vegetarian delicacies for the family, much as Tommy complained of the new meal plan he had to participate in. Sometimes they treated him to a variety of junk food and take-outs when Carl was around to collect them, can't have the boy on healthy greens all the time, now can we?

A big stretch accompanied by cracking joints signalled the end of a hard day's work. Time to relax. Dinner sounded good about now as well.

Eric performed a few exercise stretches to reduce any muscle burns he might face tomorrow. His body was still an object of intrigue to the hybrid bull, so strange but undeniably real!

He reached behind himself and took hold of his tail, bringing the bushy end in front of him to get a better view. Idly fondling the bristly hair, he soon let go, watching it swing back to his rear. Now observing his broad forearms, he watched the brown fur move in the wind. He'd experienced almost everything this physical form could offer, and explored his partner's body with equal attention. The pleasures they shared in, and the aches and pains of manual labour. It all felt so weird, yet so good.

There was one last item to check off his to-do list. And it had nothing to do with work. On his way to the house he stopped by a small shack. Like an outhouse, or a tool shed...but not. Opening the door he reached inside, pulling out a six-pack of beer from one of his many refrigerated stashes.

“Time for a reward," he said aloud, flicking the cap off of the bottle with ease.

Being a lot bigger than he once was, it took a lot more drink to hit the spot. Eric had calculated he needed a whole six-pack as a thirsty bull where a single beer would suffice when he was human. Pricey, but worth it.

Downing the first in rapid time, he tossed the bottle aside and grabbed the second. Tasted sweeter the longer and harder you worked. Gulp, gulp, gulp...

This was the life! Plenty of sunshine and fresh air, and a cool refreshing drink after a satisfying day's work.

He imagined himself, hand on hip, bottle raised, in some kind of modelling pose. With his physique that wasn't so far off the mark, barring the whole...y'know...hybrid cow-person thing. In time, the world might learn of this bovine Adonais, but it was not his place to speculate.

Having completed his ritual treat, he put away the empty glass bottles for Carl to clean up when doing the recycling rounds. He left, marching off towards the smell of tonight's meal.

* * *

The rich aroma of good old-fashioned country cooking overwhelmed the kitchen Sandra currently operated. Pinches of strong smelling herbs amidst a full, hearty stew. Enough to feed a couple of hungry hybrids, in addition to their still-human son.

When Carl, under Lacey's instruction, redesigned the entire place to accommodate the pair he had the sense to beef up (no pun intended) their household utilities. Gone were the ageing oven and cracked sink, in their place a fancy new kitchen suite. Much of the rest of the house had been redone/upgraded in a similar way. That was at least a perk of their present situation. And Sandra intended the make the most of it.

The homely cowgirl wore a large apron over her front, obscuring more than usual. Even though the majority of her body was covered in thick bovine fur — with the small exception of a few, unmentionable, areas — spills and scalding remained an issue when cooking. Again, Bovinex had been magnanimous enough to provide some specially-sized apparel for her, though hastily put-together. She could live without fashionable clothing.

There was, however, a rising irritation as she worked. Nothing to do with dinner preparation, but a more...physical annoyance. Which was now part of her daily routine.

The pressure around her chest had been building for the last hour. It's nearly time again , she thought. Reviewing the state of her cooking, she guessed it'd be three-quarters of and hour — at least — before she needed to turn down the heat. Plenty of time to handle her bovine bodily functions. She exited out the kitchen's side door and headed for a grey metal structure next to the barns.

As with all the new buildings around the farm, the shed containing her private milking stall had been assembled by Carl, with Bovinex's funds. As this was their main means of generating a return on the gene therapy, Lacey had spared no expense equipping the place with state-of-the-art dairy farming technology. All customised for their hybrid user.

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, discarding her apron. Wouldn't want anyone around — especially Tommy, God forbid — see her in a state of undress accidentally. Maybe Eric though...

Loosening her makeshift bra, Sandra prepared for her evening milking. God-damn thing is so itchy! she remarked to herself, wondering why she even needed to adhere to human standards of dress and decorum. A problem for another time, perhaps.

With her bountiful breasts free she stood in front of the machine. A suction cup for both nipples attached to a harness for support would be her costume for the next thirty minutes. Placing them on her mammaries, feeling the goosebumps as the cold plastic touched her furless aureolae, putting her arms through the harness straps and getting into a comfortable position. Adjusting and re-adjusting. Ready to flip the switch.

It was time-consuming, but the relief was oh-so-worth it. There was nothing like this back before the transformation, not even human breast pumps (which she tested out once, many years ago, when Tommy was an infant) came close to the feeling of the milking machine she was now connected to. Truth be told, there was a sense of excitement every time Sandra came to the dairy shed — her dairy shed — ready to 'do the deed' as it were.

Biting her lip, she turned it on.

“Oh my!"

The low humming of the pumps matched her own deep, purr-like rumblings at she was milked like the cow she was. There was variable intensity setting she could adjust from a control panel on the left-hand side, but she wasn't touching that just yet. There's no need to rush this.

The first time she was milked she was most taken aback by how enjoyable the whole experience had been. That enjoyment hadn't faded at all, she still got a great deal of gratification from the process. It was a good thing too. Imagine if this had been an uncomfortable chore; three times a day, for the rest of her life!

Tilting her head back, Sandra took in the mechanical massage. Today was a good yield so far. That made her happy. A consistent excess meant cash bonuses. Lacey had already begun to source buyers for their high-quality produce, and they couldn't get enough once the samples were sent to them, with Bovinex declining to inform them of the source. Trade secrets and all that. But that allowed her a bit of disposable income. A few extra gallons here and there, and before you knew it...BOOM...new surround-sound home cinema for Eric's man-cave and imported spices to jazz up her cookery.

That was the most important thing, actually. Quality of life was going up for all of them. Though she or her husband (...husband...didn't sound quite right. Too...human? Mate? Yes, mate...) couldn't venture into the outside world anymore for fear of causing mass incredulity and hysteria, everything they needed was right here. The comforts of the modern world just a phone call to Lacey or Carl away.

Turning up the dial on the milking machine, Sandra's boobs juddered about more as the power to the pumps increased. The machine suckling non-stop, like a greedy, endlessly-hungry calf. Draining her of delicious, fresh milk.

It felt...wonderful. Felt like a great weight had been lifted from her chest. Fingertips clacking away at buttons on the control panel, Sandra settled in for the last mile. Usually she waited around for the last few drops before finishing up, and today was no exception. Waste not, want not!

* * *

Eric stopped, nearly at the house, but was given pause by a metallic, industrial noise from one of the sheds nearby. Must be time for one of Sandra's...appointments , he thought.

Hate to have to do that every day, heck, multiple times a day. Seems like a real bother...

“Hmmm," he wondered, “maybe I should pay her a visit. And 'cheer' her up..."

The 'cheering up' in question was definitely not going to be a humorous joke or two. It would be a bit more hands-on and R-rated. He grinned to himself as he approached the milking shed.

* * *

Sandra — almost finished — gave a relaxed sigh, watching the container fill with her milk. It was hypnotic in a way. She failed to hear the door open and close behind her, her only indication of someone else in the room with her was when Eric announced himself...

“Lookin' good there hon, moo-ooh!" he tried to wolf-whistle but all that emerged was a variant of their usual lowing. His ears drooped in embarrassment, hoping she hadn't paid attention to his gaff.

“Oh Eric, I'll be out in a sec. Almost done."

“Thought I'd pay you a visit," he said, getting closer, “and maybe..." he began to run his hands through her fur, “...have a little fun."

Despite her own protests, she unconsciously guided her mate's hands down to her rear. He got the hint and promptly removed what remained of her underwear. As her lower garments hit the ground he began to manhandle her ass as she groaned ever-so-slightly as the touch.

“I...honey..." Her tail flicked wildly, like it was trying to wrap around one of his arms. Every now-and-then Eric took the time to stroke her tail, all the way from its tip to its base.

Her body completely exposed to her lover, Sandra shivered. Eric slid a finger into her vagina, dragging it along her inner walls, looking for the most sensitive point. Guided by Sandra's moans, he continued to stimulate her for a couple of minutes.

He could feel her desire growing out of control with the increasingly erratic spasms of her insides. She wanted him right now, even if she hadn't worked up the will to say it.

“Mhmmm..." he murmured. Nibbling her shoulder as he prepared for penetration.

“Wait a minute honey, I'm still attached to the—"

Eric didn't wait for the rest of her sentence to finish before he made his move.

“MOO!" she squealed as he entered her. Jaw hanging open in shock at the sudden ecstasy. Eyes shut tightly.

He placed a hand underneath one of her breasts, rubbing gently as he rode her.

“Hope you saved some for me," he whispered coyly, “can't give all your milk away to Ms. Cain, can we..."

“Take the—"

“The what?"

“Take these things off my boobs!" she yelled impatiently.

Eric complied, removing the suction cups and freeing her bouncing tits. He now had full reign across her cleavage, to cup and squeeze whatever he wished.

Sandra squeezed her lover's shaft strong enough to feel every contour and vein that decorated his maleness.

Deeper. She could feel his balls slap against her as he pounded away. Deeper, she kept thinking, hoping to reach even greater heights of pleasure. Deeper!

The last month had given them ample opportunity to get to grips with their new sexual appetites. More lustful than before, more feral. She never imagined herself being so...horny. They'd had a good relationship before the transformation, there were no intimacy problems for sure. But now, that life felt like a puritan nightmare the way the two of them saw each other nowadays.

She felt his climax getting closer, and an idea sprang to mind...

“Stop! Not yet!"

“Wha—?"

She pushed him back, a wet squelch as his member popped free, twitching in eager anticipation of returning to her depths. She turned to face him. A mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Why did you stop?"

“Because...I wanna go outside."

“Outside...like, outside outside?"

“Moo!" she confirmed.

He saw the logic in her suggestion, it was a bit cramped in the shed. Plus it was getting a bit too hot in here. Logic did little to suppress his libido however: “I really, I mean...really...want to be back inside you right now."

“Then catch me!"

“Catch you?"

“Yuh-huh. You catch me, we can finish this. You can't, no nookie for you tonight!"

“Mooh. You drive a hard bargain missy!"

“I sure do!"

The pair of panting bovine behemoths burst out of the milking shed, happy as Larry as they searched for a new place to continue their adult antics. Sandra's promise of a chase was cut short when Eric threw his arms around her, pinning her to the exterior metal wall of the building.

“Caught you."

“That's cheating, we didn't even get away from—" Eric silenced her with a passionate, lustful kiss.

Settling with just being out in the cool evening air, they decided to carry on — right then, right there. To hell with whoever might stumble across them.

He drove his shaft inside her once more, reaching his maximum extent. Sandra let out a cry of joy. Part-laugh, part-squeal. Too loud for Eric's liking. They might alert someone to their activities.

“Shhh," he said, covering her mouth to muffle any further outbursts, “Tommy's home, and Carl might be loading the truck 'round front!"

“Okay," she whispered. Content with whimpering — instead of moaning — sexily.

They continued making love. His powerful legs supporting her as they fucked against the wall.

“Harder baby, harder..." she said as quietly as she could.

A sudden gasp from Eric signalled his orgasm, and she felt him cumming inside her. Hot flushes of ejaculate just added to her own mounting climax. As she peaked shortly afterwards Eric made a point of staring into each other's eyes, knowing that this love, this mind-blowing sex, they would be able to enjoy for the rest of their lives.

Out-of-breath, his lovely mate spoke: “that was amazing!"

“Yeah," he replied, “it was pretty intense!"

“I don't think it's ever felt like this back when...before we..."

“I know. Mooh, it's a helluva upgrade."

“Could you hand me my things," she said softly, pointing to the bra, loincloth and apron on the milking floor. Their mixed fluids still running down her legs, she added: “and give me a hand cleaning up?"

“Sure thing honey."

Eric knelt before her and put his tongue to work.

* * *

Tommy was stunned when his parents returned home as a pair of hulking great cow-people. His father towering over all of them like some kind of legendary Minotaur; a solid wall of animal muscle. That was a terrifying sight (obviously). Even his mother, similarly changed, stood two-and-a-half feet taller than him — when she used to be four-foot-one! Again...terrifying and confusing. It seemed it would be a long time before this became 'normal' for the poor teenager.

The word of the month was still: unbelievable.

The three of them were now seated around the dinner table, having just finished their stew. Eric leaned back on his chair, one hoof on the edge of the table. Sandra sat close-legged on the opposite side, shooting an angry glare at her partner for getting his mucky hooves all over the tablecloth.

“MOO!" Tommy's father exclaimed, ignoring her silent complaint, “that hit the spot. Thanks honey."

Sandra smiled and nodded politely. “That was for helping me out today. I added some extra spices."

“Definitely tastier than usual."

“Are you okay?" Tommy interjected.

“Huh?"

“You both look a bit tired. You guys working too hard?"

“Well," Eric smiled, “your mother and I had a long day."

“We're exhausted!"

“Moo," he agreed, “don't worry 'bout it!" Keeping their regular lovemaking sessions a secret was getting harder as the ploughing season (heh) approached its end. They'd need a new excuse for their ragged appearances in the days to come.

Ding-dong. The doorbell broke up the after-dinner conversation. Eric motioned to his son to answer it. It was usually best for Tommy to do so, as it wasn't always someone in the know calling to their house.

Tommy opened the front door to see Carl, and his truck in the driveway.

“How's it going kid?"

“Fine. I guess."

“I'm here for the latest delivery."

By that he meant his mother's...ahem...milk. Tommy pushed those disturbing thoughts out of his head as he walked outside with Carl. If he treated it like a black box, without thinking about what was actually in those five-gallon drums, he could cope.

As Carl loaded his truck with his parent's produce, he kept up his habit of making small talk with the boy.

“How're you holdin' up?"

“I said fine already."

“No, I mean really."

Tommy didn't answer.

“Listen kid. If you don't talk to someone about...well...everything that's happened so far, it's just gonna fuck with your head."

Tommy remained silent. He looked downwards, refusing to entertain Carl's advice.

“They're your parents man! Trust me, when I first saw what they ended up like I nearly shat myself — no joke! But it's been a month. If it doesn't feel normal now, it likely never will."

“I...know that."

“Remember, if you need someone to talk to, I'm always around. Ms. Cain might care enough about you all to ensure she keeps her job, but she's not the one interacting with you on a day-to-day basis. I do kinda care. Remember that."

The last container was loaded, and Carl moved to the front of his vehicle. After climbing into the cabin he said his goodbyes to the stressed teenager.

“See you soon."

“Bye."

* * *

That night, Eric and Sandra rutted outdoors once again, enjoying a round of lovin' out in the fields. Eric's weight pressed her down as his hips pumped relentlessly. Mouths occupied with intense kissing. Sandra digging her fingernails in her lover's back, Eric squeezing her tits.

At the point of no return, the pair climaxed. Warm seed dribbling down Sandra's inner thigh as Eric removed himself, proud of his repeat performance. Falling to one side, he cuddled with her.

“You just get hornier and hornier don't you."

Embarrassed, she turned her head away from Eric for an instant. But he quickly brought her gaze back to his, hand on her cheek.

“I don't mean to be...I..." she stuttered.

“Hey, it's okay."

“Sorry, it's just...moo...that I don't want Tommy or Carl or anyone thinking we're obsessed with..."

“Like we're nothing but animals?"

“Uhm, yeah..."

“They won't. Carl's a grown man who doesn't know and if he did, doesn't give a shit. We just make sure Tommy doesn't see us doing the nasty. Agreed?"

“Agreed. Let's not try to traumatise our son."

“Done."

Quiet and calm resumed for a while, before Eric was motivated to make another proposal.

“Let's sleep out here tonight."

“Mhmm..." She accepted his offer without complaint, why they didn't try this sooner she had no idea. Their beds were so itchy. Fur didn't mesh well with the family linen apparently.

The grass was soft beneath the couple.

They should do this more often.