Dietary Changes
Guy gets hungry, decides to eat the grass. You know how it is.
Thomas' car broke down. He was in the middle of nowhere, on his way to a place that was more Somewhere, when his car sputtered, stalled, and died. He cursed, hitting the steering wheel with a hand before getting out. He kicked the car. As little good as that did, it helped him feel a little better. A little. He swore again, looking around.
As said before, nowhere. The plains out in the middle of the boonies, the sticks, the most rural area he had ever been to. There was a fence, though, on the side of the road. He figured that it most likely meant there was a farm out there, somewhere. He couldn't remember passing a turn into a dirt road driveway or anything, so he decided that going forward, the direction that he had been going in his car, was the best option. And so he walked.
It felt like it had been hours when he saw something in the distance. He thought it looked like a house, one of those big ones on a ranch. It was incredibly far though, and he didn't relish the idea of going all the way to a driveway and then all the way up that driveway. He thought for a moment, looking at the fence. Shrugging, and figuring there wasn't a much better option, he climbed over it, a bit of relief at the fact it wasn't electric. He walked again, this time towards the house.
He felt some discomfort in his stomach, realizing he was very, very hungry. He felt his pockets. Nothing. He groaned, his stomach gurgling in frustration. He looked down at it, then got his eye caught on the grass below. It looked so... inviting. His stomach growled again, and he shrugged.
He got down on his knees, his hands reaching for a nice bunch of grass. He sniffed it, getting a nice, pleasant, hungering smell. He barely registered eating it, his hand empty in an instant. He reached for another bunch, then another, before just bringing his face down to the grass and eating it directly off the ground.
He vaguely registered that there was probably something wrong with this, but he couldn't quite place his finger on the reason. His feet rubbed together, taking off his shoes and socks without his hands. He felt a bit of discomfort again, this time in his pants. Should he even be wearing pants. He looked around. Satisfied that no one was around, he went back to munching on the grass as one hand reached down to undo his pants.
The cause of his discomfort seemed to be his balls, which had clearly grown a few inches, as well as seemed to have gone up and joined with his cock. He watched it, fascinated, while eating his grass meal. His balls grew even further, rising upwards to his abdomen. They were the size of a watermelon, stopping at his belly. But they didn't stop growing. Several more cocks formed on them, looking like teats on a cow's udder. He shook his head, the bell now around his neck ringing. Of course it was like a cow, he WAS a cow. He mooed softly, his hand coming up to his face to double check. Yup, he had a muzzle, with a soft, smooth nose, and a very, very long tongue. He looked at his arms, which were covered in a soft, white pelt, with a few black spots here and there. He unbuttoned his suddenly very tight shirt, his large, bouncy breasts popping out. He momentarily wondered why he would need boobs and an udder, but it was forgotten as he remembered his udder was made of his balls and not something milk-producing. Unless you were kinky, he supposed, but that wasn't really milk-milk, and as a cow he had some pride in the distinction. He stood up, wobbling a bit on his hooves.
He remembered now, he was heading toward the house. Toward Master. He smiled, his tail whipping back and forth as he lost much of his former self. Tanya now, a cow, and not needing to have so many complicated things in his head. He started walking, hoping to get back to the new life that he assumed was his old life on the farm.