Bovine Parents (Ch. 12)

Story by qoo123 on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Part of my 'Boverse' setting, more info: https://sofurry.com/s/rnaMKVZn.

2016-2017 © 'qoo123'


“The current acreage you can see here is the extent of the Bovinex-operated farmland," Carl explained to his superior, “South and West — following the only road out here — you have rocky, uneven terrain. With some hills. This is a no-go for expansion, as it would require us to raise up walls or barriers of some kind to prevent anyone nosing around our business. As you can see, the Reimond's land sits in a depression, it's lower down than the surrounding area, so we were able to effectively secure it from prying eyes with fences and thick banks of trees. Cheap enough, given our funding situation."

Director Evans and Dr. Frank Trimble watched as Carl outlined their future plans for expansion. Frank yawned when nobody was looking, this could go on for a while . He was waiting for his turn to lecture their boss.

“There is several homes down that way too, which — again — means more negotiations and buy-outs that not all will agree to."

“That would be our biggest problem at the moment, yes?" Evans asked.

“I'd say so, yeah," Carl replied, “getting folks to shut up and sell..."

“So we're stuck then?"

“Not quite. Heading North-West from our land," Carl swept his hand across the map while he spoke, “we have similar terrain to the existing farm. With fewer residents. Lucky us!" Evans' eyes brightened up at that information, he could make a good argument to the board about expansion in this direction.

Carl continued: “actually," he paused for a moment, “I think there's only one person living here." He wracked his brains for a moment trying to remember. “Ah...yes...a Ms. Hwang-Xhi. At least, I think it's Miss, she might be married. I'm not too sure. If I recall her first name is Jen."

“You reckon she'd be open to selling her house?"

“Maybe...depends..."

“That's one pro to add to our list. And let me tell you, we need them." Evans stated bluntly. Carl and Frank shared a nervous glance, they both knew it would take a lot of convincing to get the board of directors to 'okay' their continuing existence.

Their superior spent a minute surveying the map, thinking. He then addressed his employees: “thank you for that Mr. Redweather. Dr. Trimble...you have some notes on the gene therapy?"

“I do," Frank stepped forward as Carl took a break. “I've made improvements to the...transformation process. Reducing the...uh...pain of the process, and better adapting the serum we use for genetic modification. It should now take less time to produce a tailored dosage for a single person."

“And this would speed up converting any...new...volunteers?"

“Yes sir."

His superior looked pleased the more they spoke, but there seemed to be this pervasive nagging doubt in his eyes. Frank thought little of it at first, but as the conversation carried on, Evans' questions became more and more doubtful.

“How do you ensure that the changes you've made — the pain reduction especially — will work?"

“I...uh..." Frank had to think on his feet for a good answer. Telling him the truth would not fly well with Director Evans — at least, not yet…

“I have isolated several chemical compounds responsible for the most 'agonising' parts of the transformation, and have managed to remove enough of said compounds to make it more...bearable." Lying my fucking ass off at the moment, hope Lacey gets here soon, he thought.

“That sounds like an improvement we can pitch to the board." Good, he bought it.

Carl interrupted them: “Excuse me, sir. But I have to go and fuel up some of the trucks, for when Lacey gets here," he said knowingly. Frank nodded. Evans remained oblivious, still reviewing the documents on the desk.

“Oh, you've a delivery now?" Evans asked.

“Yes." Carl lied straight to his boss' face. Then he left.

Frank went into more depth on his own ideas for improving the process, as well as Lacey's plans to increase profits. He was well-versed in the former, but struggled a bit explaining the latter. A fact that wasn't lost on his boss.

“This is all well and good, Dr. Trimble, but I'd prefer it if Ms. Cain herself was giving this talk to me. It is her plan after all..."

“I understand sir. She'll be here shortly."

Quietly — as if on cue — the door behind them opened. Frank raised his speaking voice to cover the noise. He redirected his gaze to the opened door as Lacey snuck into the room — taking great care to avoid making any sound that would alert Evans to her presence. This was to be a surprise!

“I'm still lacking confidence. We still need a smoking gun...right now I don't have enough pros to outweigh the cons!"

“You don't huh?"

Lacey entered the conversation, her voice coming from behind them, snapping the pair out of their heated discussion. But her voice, it sounded...different...

“Behind you."

“Ms. Cain. Took you long enough to show up. We need your input–ah..."

A stunned silence ensued as Evans turned to greet her, and saw why she sounded strange.

“Y—yuh...you...what!?"

Lacey Cain was no longer human. She had been transformed by the same genetic modification process the Reimond family underwent. The neat, professional, middle-aged middle-manager was no more. In her place stood a hybrid cowgirl, easily two feet taller than anyone else in the room. Her body covered head-to-hoof in black-and-white-patterned fur. Not a shred of clothing to be found.

Director Evans looked on in astonishment. Frank had more than enough time to get to grips with Ms. Cain's appearance, so he could stand back and watch — with a wry smile — as their boss stammered and sputtered, trying very hard not to believe what was in front of him.

Her strong arms were crossed over her chest, squashing behind them a pair of breasts each the size of Evans' head. Her face now that of a cow's: bovine muzzle, short stubby horns, but her eyes still retained that very human intensity. Further down the fur thinned, allowing a slight pinkish splash of colour to come through on Lacey's belly. This... thing...bore wide hips, a rotund ass and legs like tree-trunks, terminating in shiny black hooves. Her voluptuous body didn't do much to hide her toned muscles, which visibly flexed beneath her soft feminine curves when she moved. A bushy-tipped tail swayed behind her.

“Moo!"

It was assumed (correctly) by Frank this was an attempt to say 'boo!'. He and the new, improved Lacey Cain watched all the colour drain from their boss' features.

Evans — to the surprise of absolutely no-one — promptly fainted.

* * *

“Wake up," the hybrid boomed as Frank splashed a glass of water in Evans' face. The Director returned to consciousness slowly. He didn't really want to, Lacey looked pissed.

Evans got to his knees before losing strength, Frank helped prop him up as Ms. Cain started to vent...

“I've had it up to here," she reached her arm up and touched the ceiling in a gesture of frustration, “with taking shit from this company." Her face wore an angry glare as she towered over her cowering superior. She uncrossed her arms, Evans receiving the full view of her powerful form; her imposing height, her dominating curves.

“Listen up, and listen good. You, me, Carl and Frank will be driving to head office in one of Carl's dairy trucks. You will show us how to get into the building without being seen. You will call a meeting of the board, and we'll show those golf-playing fucks real proof! Right in front of them!" They couldn't possibly ignore her programme now, not with this latest... evidence.

“I—I—I—"

“Oh, what? You wanna puss out? Tough shit, you may be my boss but right now I'm calling the shots okay?" With a snort she continued: “Have you seen me? Have you seen what this kind of body can do? I have. I've tried it out. I could crush your head with one hand!" she shoved the aforementioned appendage in front of his face for emphasis, forcing him back a step. “You see these?" she stamped a hoof on the ground, “one kick and you're nothing but a smear of red paste on the fucking wall!"

“For God's sake Lacey, calm down!" Frank attempted to be the voice of reason between a terrified Evans and his enraged bovine boss. He swore he could see a touch of steam rising from her snout. One of her ears flicked in annoyance at his interruption.

“Calm? Sure. When we have all the funding we need I'll calm down. Understand?"

Director Evans meekly nodded. This was a side of Ms. Cain neither he nor Frank had witnessed, made all the more fearsome by her increased size and muscle mass. The two of them always had a moderately adversarial relationship, a back-and-forth that got harsh at times. If he thought he could piss her off now...he'd be sorry.

“Yes! I get it!" he cried. Trembling, he stood straight and slowly but surely regained his composure. His legs were jelly. Evans took a few deep breaths, wringing his hands as he hoped — nay, prayed — that things would not get violent.

“We head out in twenty minutes," Frank informed him, before turning to Lacey: “better get a coat or something..."

“No need," she quipped, “this fur ain't for decoration."

* * *

One could describe the impact Lacey's appearance made to the Bovinex board of directors as a 'commotion', but that would be underselling it. One heart attack, two evacuated bowels and the reduction of a further three to whimpering, gibbering messes. Needless to say, they got their support, even if it took a fearsome, naked, anthropomorphic cow-behemoth picking people up by their legs and shaking them upside-down like some schoolyard bully demanding a kid's lunch money.

After Director Evans had sworn the rest of the frightened board to absolute secrecy, Lacey, Frank and Carl returned to their compound. Given that Ms. Cain could no longer move about in ordinary society, they needed to re-organise themselves and how they would conduct their business in future.

It was decided — just as herself, Frank, and Carl had planned — that she would move in with the Reimond family, setting up an office in the house. There was space free as Eric and Sandra spent the majority of their time outside. From there she'd live and work with the two existing hybrids.

Frank would remain in place to manage the laboratory, and any future genetic modification treatments conducted. His job would change the least. Carl — for all his complaints about being overworked — agreed to run errands to-and-fro between the farm and the lab, in addition furthering land acquisition and expansion.

Eric and Sandra were surprised when Lacey arrived at their front door a cowgirl. They quickly accommodated her, giving her free run of the house and happily helped set up an office workspace to fit her new size.

For Tommy however, it was another bizarre occurrence in what had become his life. What next? Pigs flying?