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“I believe you had quite an outburst with Ms. Cain." Frank said as he prepared himself.

“Yeah."

“Got a lot of things off your chest I hear. She gave me the gist of it."

Tommy lay in a bed at the Bovinex laboratory. He was thankful Lacey made it clear how upset he'd been at the company's entire programme. It seemed a bit hypocritical now that he was about to undergo the same procedure, but he knew Ms. Cain had the minimum required amount of decency to understand.

“Frankly (and yes, ha-ha, I do get the joke), it's none of my business. Your problems are your own, and however you sort them out has nothing to do with me."

He moved to the side of the bed. It was oddly-sized, much larger than an adult human's. An IV-bag was suspended above the frame, where Frank was busy affixing a tube and needle.

“Time to explain what you'll be going through. I don't know how much you were told about how your folks fared, but it'll be different this time," he gestured to the room, “as you can see, your accommodations are much nicer. Before we had what amounted to basically a containment cell with remote monitoring equipment. Your parents did thrash about plenty when changing, so it was for their safety as much as ours."

“That's no longer an issue here. We are going to sedate you while the serum is injected. This means we can literally be in the room with you instead of hiding behind a concrete wall. So any — say — medical emergencies can be responded to quickly. Again: your safety as much as ours."

“There have been several improvements to the procedure itself. Improved handling of your mental state is the most important for you I think. You've seen how your parents' memories and cognitive abilities were affected by the transformation. Now they got better, sure, but that wasn't the real problem. Can't have us damaging our subjects minds permanently. Looks incredibly bad to the board of directors for one. Our funding hangs by a delicate thread, and a single fuck-up like that leaves me out on the street."

“But you made the serum better, right!? You haven't just guessed how to fix it..." there was worry in the teenager's voice.

“Sure, I had help. I got a chance to test the revised serum quite recently. Outcome was positive."

Tested recently? There's someone else?

“Wait—" Tommy started to speak, but was cut off by Frank's next question: “Nervous?"

“Sorta..."

“Unlike your parents you won't have to be awake for the procedure. Lucky you."

That's good right? Tommy wondered. Frank didn't say anything else, his look was one of concentration. Okay, okay. Just calm down, and let it happen. We can ask questions later.

He started the drip.

“From what I understand, there will be some pretty intense dreams. Just a heads-up for you. Oh and the needle may sting a little bit."

* * *

Darkness took him. The dull embrace of unconsciousness staked it claim on Tommy's sleeping mind. Its cold fingers grasping for his very soul. The sedatives worked overtime to slow his heart rate, and numb his body, a precaution for what was about to happen.

The accursed serum flowed through thin plastic piping towards the port inserted into his right arm. Unaware of the goings-on beyond the confines of his inner self, Tommy felt a change in his thoughts as the serum reached him. That sole outside feeling, his one link to the rest of the world: the sensation of Bovinex's 'medicine' as it entered him. One sentence ran through his head:

No going back now.

The transformative elixir was drip-fed into the young man. Pouring into him, intravenously, sealing his fate. Tommy could pinpoint whereabouts it travelled inside of him as it conjured peculiar feelings at each organ, announcing its presence with a churning, oozing sensation. His organs felt like they were being pulled around by it, stretched by it, struck by it. As if someone decided to play football with his body parts.

He hoped that was the worst he'd feel. Boy would he be proven wrong!

AAGH!

Pain. PAIN! Sharp pain! Hurting. Burning. Breaking, breaking...breaking through his sleep. Skin-crawling. Eyes stinging. His senses assaulted by it. Flaring up in different parts of his body. A new and more painful burst each time. The anaesthetic had failed! It was almost laughable how soon it'd succumbed, letting wave after wave of biting agony rampage across his flesh. Tommy lay trapped, unable to escape the temporary coma.

His body was transforming now. That was clear. Say goodbye to the thin, scruffy teen he once was. Say hello to God knows what. And it fucking hurt!

From what he could tell, the changes were taking their sweet time. The most horrible sensations continued to torture him. His skin boiled. His finger bones were cracking, his spine twisting, his feet felt crushed and flattened by the biological storm within him. Vivid images of the transformation flashed in front of his mind's eye, what he feared was happening to his body. His tempest-tossed form screaming to be relieved of its torment. But alas, no relief came. Only the pain continued.

Tommy could feel his lungs struggle as he began to splutter, began to wheeze. At least, he thought that's what he was doing. Liquid gathered in his mouth. Frothing 'midst coughing. A frightening notion crossed his mind: am I going to choke to death on my own spit here? Wasn't he being watched? Was Dr. Trimble there, or anyone else? There must be someone monitoring him. Surely...

His prayers might well have been answered that very moment. For his pain worsened — then suddenly — it stopped. A rush of warmth carried itself through him, softening those nervous wounds in its wake. They must have applied more drugs, he reckoned. So he was being kept safe after all. He relaxed.

Things were about to get trippy...

Words most of the time escaped him, his mind in pieces. He was lucky every now-and-then to string together a coherent sentence, and many of those were rambling nonsense. Retarded by the fresh drugs he fell deeper into fantastical stupor. Nerves impaired, his sense of pain crippled to allow him rest. Time was made for him to dream, to walk amongst his hopes, his feelings, and above all else his fears...how quaint and unimportant they looked to him now. Tiny, ugly little creatures mewling in the green sunlight as their bodies burned to a crisp once the shade was stolen from them. Driven from his mind thanks to the painkillers and sleeping tinctures flowing through his bloodstream. The potion gave him strength. A chance to gloat over his apprehension. There was no turning back, and there was no reason to fret about what he was becoming. His destiny: set in stone. At last.

Shifting patches of light appeared before him, his vision clouded with radiant oranges and dazzling whites, which mixed with blobs of scattered purple; forming endless combinations of imaginary and impossible colours. Drunk on the chromatic display his brain presented to him, Tommy dived head-first into the ocean of shimmering silver-and-black light. Psychedelia was kicking in.

He saw his whole body covered in molten metal. The latest imagery his brain saw fit to conjure. He saw his arms, his legs, superheated in the furnace that now surrounded him entirely, imprisoning him. Then from nowhere great big cartoonishly-sized hammers beat him into shape. Each strike releasing a burst of sparks and flame. White hot. This appeared to be signalling intense pain, but due to all the nerve-suppressing chemicals in his circulatory system it felt like nothing at all. Tommy's mind was left floating in a fluffy soup, bereft of all badness. Buoyant and care-free.

Something danced on his face. Pair of boots perhaps? Sure felt like it. Thick-soled no less. Stamping flat the canvas of his head. No doubt it was time for his human features to be replaced, to be 'upgraded' with their bovine equivalent. His skull was putty, malleable, clay in the hands of science. And science laughed as its fat-fingered paws dug deep into his melting visage. Squeezing his head beneath chubby digits, piling on additional material to bulk up the size, before standing back and admiring its progress. The pause was brief, and Tommy soon felt again the meddling manipulations beset upon him.

His hallucinations continued unabated for an incalculable eternity. Until, at the peak of his rebirth, his scattered thoughts once more solidified into tangible sensations.

His eyes swung open, but the dreaming persisted. Tommy rose from his bed, the world around him spinning. He was still human. But why? Wasn't the serum working? He stumbled forward, bashing his shoulder on the double-doors that led out of his room. The corridor was empty. Silent. Strange. There was no sound at all, not even his own footsteps echoed through the hallway.

There! Light behind those doors at the end of the corridor. Everywhere else was dark, and locked, refusing him access. The answers he needed were this way, go to the light. It's simple, his subconscious told him, what we need is behind those doors.

His heart pounded in his chest. Threatening to escape from his body. Nearly there, he whispered, nearly...almost, I need to open this...

His hand touched the handle. He gripped it firmly and pushed. The light behind the door never faltering, forever calling to him. Tommy took a deep breath and opened it.

Nothing, at first. So bright! He couldn't see a thing. Suddenly, a shadow emerged between him and the source of the brightness. It blocked out most of the light, leaving a bizarre eclipse in the form the shadow took.

Tommy understood what he saw. In the distance the figure stood up straight, almost darkening the entire world around him. In the dimness he knew what it was. Crawling, grasping in the blackness to find his way forward, he moved closer.

Anthropomorphic...half-human...half-animal...

A hybrid bull.

A hulking behemoth of a bull. Its back was turned to him, proudly displaying a dense web of intricate, bulging muscles. Its core as thick as an oak tree, with a long bushy-tipped tail twirling behind. Its hooves shiny, hard fibrous feet capable of smashing rock with a kick. Above them immense calf and thigh muscles, supporting the rest of the beast's body. Between its legs dangled the dark silhouette of supreme maleness, hanging free without care.

Tommy's awe didn't end there. Up top, broad shoulders and sinewy arms distracted him. Hands, paws that could crush. Obliterate. The strength behind which no human could ever hope to compare. Huge neck muscles led to the bull's head, its long horns casting an imposing figure.

Truly a monster. A beast.

All encased in solid black fur.

Is that me?

Is this what I'm becoming?

“Holy shit."

Its ear flicked. It heard him.

Oh fuck!

The bull turned to face him, menacing eyes glowing, gaze piercing the surrounding darkness. Tommy got a good look at its taut chest, its musculature rippled as it moved. Its bovine muzzle carried a stern grimace, its eyes staring straight into his soul.

It took a step towards him. Tommy felt the ground shake as its hoof landed. His own legs felt like jelly, they gave out from beneath him and he tumbled to the floor. Lifting himself with what little strength he felt he had left, Tommy inched backwards as the bull strode on.

Those eyes, that body. They exuded strength, power, dominance.

He couldn't fight it. He grew weaker and weaker each step it took. Getting closer.

Now a third of the way to him, it stopped. Glaring at the crumpled human. As if taunting him, saying 'is that the best you can do?'

Something awoke within Tommy. A new source of energy. He wasn't going to surrender. He wasn't going to give up! He didn't come all this way to fail now. He had a plan, he had a goal. He was going to look out for his family. Fuck giving up!

He pulled himself to his feet. Standing again. The bull's face shifted, though Tommy could not tell how.

It braced itself, and roared. An Earth-shattering, mind-bending roar. Bellowing throughout all of time and space. Screaming inside Tommy's mind, summoning the feral strength long abandoned by his kind in ages past. His primal side, once thought conquered by his humanity.

The bull lowered its head, bunching up its muscles. Like a coiled spring it shot forward. Charging at Tommy, booming all the while.

He wasn't scared. Tommy stood firm as it rapidly closed the gap between them. Racing towards him in its bestial glory.

At the moment of collision, a flash of red from its eyes.

Then nothing.

Total blackout.

Calm returned. No light. No dark. Nothing left to see.

A deep rumbling voice spoke to him. Foreign to his ears. Whose was it? Who? Tommy couldn't make out what it was saying. Then he realised, it was his voice! That's how he sounded; him as a bull. The words became clear to him as he heard them echo one final time:

It is done.

* * *

Tommy groggily opened his eyes to an apologetic Dr. Trimble. His surgical gown lay in pieces beside him. Shredded beyond all recognition by his expanded form. His limbs went dead on him, refusing to obey his commands. His new fur felt nice and warm, even though most of the bedclothes had been thrown off.

“Tommy. Good to see you awake. You...ah...gave us a bit of a fright earlier. I...I should be the one to apologise for it."

“Huuhhh..." Tommy's alien mouth tried to make words, but to no avail. His reshaped jaw would take some getting used to.

“I didn't expect the serum to be fought so fiercely by your system."

“Fouugghhtt...?"

“You had an episode; shaking, moaning, some drooling. By your expression we could tell you were in pain. So I applied more serum. Apart from that there was very little activity. From our side you looked fairly docile."

“Why?" Tommy managed to utter an actual word this time. A splitting headache rocked through his skull as his bones ached, sore in the aftermath of his transformation.

“There was a complication with the genetic serum. As you may or may not know, the compound is derived from an individual's specific DNA, but I have been making great strides in generalising the formula."

His patient remained silent. There was an accusing hint in his expression.

“After your parents were transformed, I set about including a sedative with the mixture. When Ms. Cain underwent the procedure I administered this variant. It worked. Not a single issue. I was on a roll, making new alterations to the process. I should've stopped after each revision and double-checked my findings...well, here we are. You're healthy, that's the important part."

“Considering I'm the only person in the known world performing these kinds of operations, everything's new to me!" he joked. It fell flat. Tommy maintained his accusatory stare.

“Urrgh...alright fine. Could've been less sloppy, but what can ya do?" He raised his arms and shrugged his shoulders. “Nobody's paying me for double the serum, so I can't be blamed when supplies are low and corners are cut."

“What are you talking about?" Tommy croaked. His eyes were heavy, half-shut. The young bull's tiredness was clear as day 'cross his features; his brain set on 'slow' mode so soon after waking.

“Ehh, you'll find out when you meet her."

“Who?" Tommy wasn't sure he heard that correctly. Everything sounded...strange. Not wrong, not worse, but out-of-place. As if his consciousness were in the middle of recalibrating the senses. New ears. Furry ears. In the wrong place on his skull too.

“Never mind."

“So...you said things were...quiet. From your point of view."

“Apart from your suffering early on, yes."

“I could tell a different story."

“Well, I did say you could experience some intense dreams, hallucinations even. All a natural part of the process. Your brain chemistry is fundamentally altered. It's necessary to cope with the demands of your new body. You see?"

“Moo," he reluctantly acknowledged. Wait, did I just say that?

“Sorry. I'm a bit...spacey right now." Tommy grumbled as he spoke. “Damn," he said, “is this what I sound like now?"

“Your voice has certainly deepened. A lot."

Frank searched his person for a hand mirror. “I swore I brought one in with me. Ah, there it is." He gave Tommy the mirror. “See how you look."

Tommy, for the first time ever, saw his new face reflected back. He almost jumped, expecting the fearsome glowing eyes from his comatose vision, but familiar bluish-green pupils greeted him. Yep, these are mine alright.

He brought a hand to his cheek. Tracing the shape of his muzzle, then tentatively reaching out and touching the sleek surface of one of his horns.

“These are pretty cool," he said to Frank as he studied them, “dad has them, but I didn't think they'd feel so...moo...part of me."

“How do you feel? Not physically," Frank tapped his temple, “in here?"

“Fine. I don't see any problem with my mental state. I expected to be in more shock, but I probably desensitised myself towards the process over all those months of worrying 'bout it."

“That's good. Any issues do come to me."

“Thanks." Tommy sat up in the bed and stretched. He cracked his neck and shoulders with a satisfying sigh. Frank went to a table to start writing some notes.

Attempting to get out of bed, Tommy's hoofed feet slid on the smooth floor, almost sending him crashing face-first onto the ground. He managed to catch himself with a shout, alerting Frank to his movements.

“Hey, hey, hey! Easy!" Frank guided Tommy to lay back down. “Have some more rest, it's late and you're not in any condition to wander yet."

Tommy lifted the covers back over himself as he watched the doctor depart.

“Wait up."

“Something else you need?"

“Carl...Mr. Redweather...knows all about this, Ms. Cain too; but, don't tell the others. Not yet."

“I promise. Talk again tomorrow."

Once alone, sleep beckoned. Tommy drifted into his rest peacefully. His hands explored his body, running through his fur, following the outline of his muscles. His arms, chest, legs...felt incredibly dense, packed with brawn. He had a huge amount of raw animal power at his command.

Not satisfied in his dim, semi-conscious state, a hand sneaked downwards. There was one part of him in particular he was surprised by, as the onset of some evening wood confirmed its true size.

Like father like son, he took a moment to admire his new equipment.

* * *

The next day Tommy awoke in his bed in Bovinex's makeshift ward at the crack of dawn. Far too early for anyone to be working yet. He had some alone time. The aching from yesterday had not faded.

Tommy read one of the books he had brought with him. At least, he attempted to read it. His focus was all over the place, and he was having a hard time paying attention. The words on the page tended to dissolve into gibberish, odd squiggles unless he really focused — ignoring everything else. He quickly reminded himself this would only be temporary, that his reading difficulties should fade in time. Can't happen soon enough, he noted.

Hours passed. Oblivious to his surroundings, Tommy failed to hear the door open and the iconic clack, clack, clack of hooves on the ward floor. Only after a short, attention-grabbing 'ahem' did he snap out of it. He searched for the source of the interruption.

A cowgirl had entered the room. She must be the other success Dr. Trimble was talking about, Tommy realised upon seeing her, as she stood before him a hybrid. She must be, what, seven foot? Shorter than him anyways. Fur coloured light grey. Svelte with some pronounced feminine curves here-and-there, enough for her to turn any bull's head.

Actually, her fur looked way softer than Tommy would've expected. She must have showered an hour or two ago, there was a softness to her appearance, and her hide was well-groomed. She probably smelled nice as well. Was there anything that wasn't perfect about her in Tommy's opinion?

She carried a tray with food. She just went from a nine to a ten.

“Who are you?" Whomever she was, the visitor was strikingly attractive. Tommy only had a couple of references to go on regarding bovine females: his mom (who was family) and Ms. Cain (whom he was somewhat mad at). To think of them carnally...eww. She — on the other hand — could be admired in all her beauty.

“Oh. You are awake. Hello."

Though it was clearly not her mother tongue, she was able to hold a conversation. There was an accent there. Muted 'neath her altered vocal chords. Somewhere from the Far East?

“Did you have a good sleep?"

“Moo. Yes. I sure as hell needed it," Tommy exclaimed, excited about the stranger's presence.

She brought her tray over to Tommy's bedside. An appetising aroma of fresh toast and spreads met his nostrils. His stomach rumbled.

“My name is Jen. I have breakfast."

“Nice to meet you Jen, and can I just say: you're a lifesaver. I'm starving!"

The cowgirl — Jen — set her tray down beside him, and handed him a plate. “Take your pick. I do not know if you have any preefer...ahem, excuse me...pre-fer-ences."

Tommy had been spoiled for choice. No meat, they were herbivores after all. But butter, spreads, tomatoes, cherries, apple and orange juice, stack of toast a mile-high, and much more besides. His hand hovered over the display, bouncing from choice to choice, before he settled on making a toasted jam sandwich.

“You Unimericans call it 'jelly', yes?"

“Yeah, we do. This stuff's different though, it's jam. Jelly is clear, jam's the one with fruit bits in it. Britannic folks, the Inglish especially, call both kinds 'jam' so it gets a bit confusing."

“Well thank you for the lesson, teacher."

“Are you being smart with me, Miss...Jen?"

“Hwang-Xhi."

“Huu...herr...uwang..." Tommy tried to pronounce her surname, volunteering his goofs for her amusement. Ugh...

“I am from Qina originally."

“Ah, I knew there was something in your voice. I couldn't tell if it was due to being a hybrid or not." He watched a smile develop on her full bovine lips. “Not that I'm criticising. You sound lovely."

“Moo! Thank you. You sound very nice as well."

Wolfing down another slice, he motioned to the tray. “You can have some too, if you like. Be rude not to offer."

“I ate before, but I can have something small." She picked up a half-slice of toast with jam, and took a couple bites, happy to have someone new to talk with. Tommy watched some crumbs and a dollop of jam spill and land between her boobs.

“You...uh...got some on your..." he awkwardly pointed out, averting his eyes.

She looked down, and chuckled. As she cleaned it off she thanked him for not staring. “It is very odd being nude all the time."

Tommy joined in her mirth: “Tell me about it! Least we have fur that covers nearly everything."

“Uh-huh," she mumbled as she munched away. They ate quietly for several minutes, Tommy enjoying the food and the company, Jen alternating between embarrassment at being so exposed and happiness at finding someone who understood bovine problems.

“Moo...so, uh, how long have you been...like this?"

“Six days."

“I'm just transformed."

“I know silly! I do work here."

“Right, yeah," he laughed at his ignorance, “how'd you end up here?"

Jen detailed her situation. Her decision to sell her house and the land it sat upon, her decision to come work for Bovinex, and her fateful decision to undergo the gene therapy. Tommy listened to a familiar tale, many of the same things his parents went through. He could relate, to a degree. Tommy then provided his story: Carl and Lacey showing up at his house, his mom and dad signing their lives away, the whole nine yards.

He paused his explanation, noticing a dash of anxiety in Jen's furtive eyes. She was avoiding his gaze, was she uncomfortable being here?

“Are you okay?" Tommy asked with a hint of concern.

“Sorry. Sorry. I have never met one like me. Another hybrid, yes? I am not exactly used to it."

“Well I have," he sighed, “guess ya could say I've joined the family business."

“Oh, I know. You are Thomas Reimond after all."

“I like 'Tommy' better," he huffed.

She grinned at his indignation. “I'll remember that. Your family I never met, but I lived near to you. Perhaps not that near, the countryside is large and has very few people, but technically we were neighbours."

“Hmm. I always wondered when they'd move on to other folks."

“Who?"

“You know who. Bovinex. Can't keep my parents cooped up on their own land for too long, someone's gonna stumble across them. Makes sense the company bought up everything around 'em."

“Yes. Yes." She cleared her throat. A dainty cough Tommy couldn't help but think was cute, his new bovine side making note of the female's attractive qualities. Day one as a feisty young bull and already the call of his animal side was pulling at him. They were both naked (obviously) with Tommy's bed coverings the sole exception. It didn't weird him out as much as with his parents; now that he had transformed himself it seemed much more relaxing and — dare he say it — normal.

“Can I be honest with you, Thomas...Tommy?"

“What is it?"

“I worry that this was not the right choice for me, agreeing to become a...cow. I thought I was being brave, but," she sniffed, “I'm scared."

“Were you forced into this?"

“No! Moo, no! I did not have to do this. My life was not great. I...I wanted to 'live a little', that is the saying yes? To take a risk?"

“Yeah,"

“And you, are you worried you made the right choice?"

“There's no room for worry on my part, Miss...uh...Jen. For me this has to be the right choice. Hell, I'll make it the right choice!"

“I admire your compoz...composure."

Tommy was strangely calm, listening to her fears. Jen did seem to regret (partially) what she'd agreed to. She sort-of dived straight into the whole thing without a clear picture of what to do afterwards, and awareness of that was sinking in. He understood what she was going through. He had put himself in the same sorry state overthinking his future.

“Hey," he held her hand, “it'll be fine. You look like you can handle yourself. And besides, know how strong our bodies are?"

“I think so. Dr. Trimble warned me to pay attention to how forcefully I have been holding things. There have been some...incidents with lab equipment..."

Tommy cracked a smile at the image of Jen accidentally crushing a microscope she was using. “Anyone gives ya grief, give 'em one of these," he mimed a punch, “you've got nothin' to worry about Jen. We're all in this together." Damn, I better keep an eye on my strength too, he reminded himself, I've seen what it can do to a human. He recalled his dad's life-threatening assault.

Frank returned to the pair shortly thereafter, joining in the conversation and directing it towards business matters.

“Ah, you've met Jen. She's been assisting me in the lab, even after her procedure." A proud smirk crept across his face. “Another success story to my name," he gloated.

“Whoop-de-doo," Tommy slow-clapped, “ya still could've warned me you were skimping on painkillers doc."

“Oh let's put that behind us. Lots to do, you two!"

He spoke at length to the two hybrids, explaining the nitty-gritty of Jen's land acquisition and the resultant herd expansion. Lacey had 'Phase 2' all planned out: more cropland, another dairy cow to help them ramp up production, and — thanks to Tommy's decision to join — an extra pair of hands for farming, admin and performing odd jobs.

“They're the same territory, but I think — from an administrative point of view — that running them as different farms is the way to go. The existing area as one unit, the new area as another."

He waited for a response. Finding none, he continued: “Jen, we want you to work 'in the field' as it were. Your time assisting myself is coming to and end. How does that sound? Good? Bad? Neutral?"

Jen stopped to think. A quizzical look on her face.

“I don't reckon she knows quite what to do yet," Tommy added.

“Sure, sure. And yourself, Mr. Reimond?"

Tommy had his turn to pause and ponder. An idea struck him.

He faced Jen. “Why don't we work together on the new farm? The job's bigger than one person. Plus I can help you get adjusted. I've only recently become a hybrid but I've lived among them for a long time since my parents changed. Know a thing or two 'bout it."

“I would enjoy that." Jen blushed subtly, it was hard to tell beneath all that soft fur.

“Me too."

Frank agreed with the proposal. The three spoke some more on what life had in store for the newly-minted bovines. Before long it was time to return to work.

“That settles it." He crossed the last few items off of his clipboard. “We can work out the details later. Ms. Hwang-Xhi, come with me. I need help compiling the results from Tommy's procedure. The telemetry has finished processing from the medical scanners, it was an overnight job but we have some valuable data now."

“Moo! Of course, Dr. Trimble." She waved to Tommy before leaving. Tommy reciprocated, glad at having found a friend to share in this new experience as cow-people. A friend...perhaps more?

* * *

“Haaahh! UUUGGHHH!" Tommy roared as he beat his bovine meat with vigour. Hands wrapped around his new improved cock, stroking it incessantly. He'd sequestered himself to one of the seldom-used bathrooms that was able to fit his ten-foot body to indulge in some youthful male horniness. No-one was near to hear him cry out, Tommy made sure to check beforehand.

He was close. By God, he needed this. All his pent-up tension demanded an outlet. New body. New tastes. New desires. He had to get Jen out of his head. She was gorgeous. What hot-blooded bull wouldn't see her that way? Tommy had to put a stop to his wandering mind. The best way, he surmised, was pleasuring himself. To relieve his lust, his stress...

“Ahh." He gripped his engorged shaft, milking it for all it was worth. At the point of climax he threw his head back and moaned. One hand caressing his bullhood, running from base to flared tip, the other cupping his enormous balls. He felt those rough orbs pulse as he came. He felt his cock twitch in his hand as it pumped jet upon jet of cum, spraying his seed against the tiles in the bathroom.

YES! This is awesome. Jerking off never felt this good before. As a teenager it's no surprise he had a heightened drive – he was no stranger to playing with himself.

There were advantages to being a hybrid, as Tommy was in the middle of finding out. I sure do produce a lot.

“Mooohhh..." he was left panting, and grunting as the last few spurts of cum splattered onto the bathroom wall — 'twas going to be fun cleaning up this mess. He'd get right on that, he just needed a breather. Just need to sit down for a minute.

Able to think more clearly, Tommy resolved to put his newfound crush on the first cowgirl he'd laid eyes on since transforming to one side. If he wanted to, there were ways to find out if she felt the same way, tactfully of course.

Man! There's so much shit I have to sort out. I have to organise my return home, plan for running a farm with Jen and the others, and work on embedding myself into the company.

There's no way he could let his dick think for him all the time.

Dude, his brain whispered, did you see the way she was looking at you?

Yeah, well I'm the only other one of her kind she's seen aren't I? Not exactly destined now is it?

I'm tellin' ya, she's got a thing for you. You can see it in her eyes. She thinks you're cute...for a cow...

Bull, he replied to himself, I'm a BULL. Cows are women. Not gonna have my own brain tease me, sayin' I'm not manly and shit.

Woah there buddy, meant no offence. You got yourself some issues to work out.

Of course I've got issues to work out. You're me! I'm arguing with myself!

Bet she watched you sleep.

What?

You heard me, bet she watched your huge manly chest rise and fall, and went all gooey inside. Fawning over you, head resting in her hands as she sat at your bedside. Those pretty eyes drinking you in.

C'mon, that's enough.

No way. There's tonnes more where that came from. She probably snuck a peak at our prime pecker too. She's definitely got serious hots for ya. Hungry for a nice juicy beef sausage.

“Aarrgh," he groaned, trying to stay his quarrelling mind.

Fine. Ignore the truth. Mister 'why don't we work together on the new farm?'. Real subtle. You're extra-horny as a bull; be nice to have someone to...ease your suffering eh?

Tommy shut his eyes as he pulled a roll of paper from the stall. Can't you leave me in peace for five minutes!?

He observed his handiwork slowly dripping down the wall.

“I better clean this up."