In the Mooood- A Cow MtF TF/TG

Story by pruvia on SoFurry

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Alan doesn't think before he goes wandering into a magical overflow to take pictures. Unfortunately, he soon won't be able to keep his burgeoning udder out of his mind...


Alan often made questionable choices when he got bored. As he looked at the glimmering air in front of him, he had to admit, coming here was one of them.

He walked at the border of the light in the creeping dusk, brushing his fingers against it, the light warm and silky. Unfortunately, in the pictures he took, it was nigh invisible. Damn; he couldn't post any of them to Instagram. Photos of a magic overflow could've done so well...

I could go in. After all, who knew what cool things were in there? It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go for the next hour anyhow. Still. With one foot in the warmth, and one out in the January cold, he hesitated. Everyone knew overflows had to be studied first, their magical effects thoroughly documented to the most obscure speck. This one was fresh and far away from anywhere; possibly no-one except him knew about it.

He walked in. If he grew ten heads, he grew ten heads; hospitals could deal with anything these days. Going back to civilisation with nothing seemed like it would be worse; at least it would make for an interesting selfie.

Warmth flooded into him, a surreal golden light blazing through the entire overflow, strands of crackling rainbows flowing up from shining ley lines on the ground. Alan relished the sensation of his fingers no longer being stiff from cold and immediately snapped a picture of a tuft of glowing purple violets that rainbow dragonflies darted about. The scent of freshly cut grass lay thick in the air.

He had enough common sense to not go near the centre of the overflow, content with the wonders he saw at its perimeter; bright flowers growing nowhere in the normal world, strange animals with spirals of light decorating their fur and trees groaning under the weight of glittering fruit. His camera roll was soon stuffed, and the pictures were far sharper than the blurry mess he'd captured outside.

Before leaving, he sat down for a bit on a comfortable carved rock, watching neon pigeons fight over equally neon seeds. His mouth was bone dry, making him wonder when was the last time he'd had a drink. It was that milkshake at a diner on the way. God, it had been so good he wished he had saved some. He craved it.

Or some chocolate; he really ought to have brought some lunch. Alan rubbed his belly to calm the grumbling he thought was a sign of hunger and thirst.

His balance failed him. Spitting out a clod of sweet dirt, he tried to pull himself up- his belly was too heavy, as if he'd swallowed a dumbbell. He pulled up his jacket to see the skin thicken into pink. When he brushed his fingers against the weird skin, the tenderness of it took him aback, heart fluttering like a butterfly in his ribs.

The overflow was affecting him. Forcing himself up again, mindful of the extra weight of his belly, he began waddling, because the weight forced his legs further apart, the pink flesh jumping up from the normal skin around it. It was impossible to run as he would've liked, hard to monitor the glowing horizon of the perimeter when his tummy was aching and grumbling for attention. He groped the affected area, rubbing it as it bulged. Four little points of itchiness built up, so he stopped; he didn't want to make the overflow's effects worse than they already were. With his hands off his belly, he could think better, and the thought of the magic threading through his very soul made his shoulders shake.

Unfortunately, his belly wanted his ministrations, and it did so by aching insistently, the itchy spots feeling like bug bites as they pressed against his jeans, pushing the button out of its hole. Alan gritted his teeth, grinding to a halt a few metres before the exit (he had wandered further from the perimeter than he'd thought). Might as well see what was going on; he yanked up his jacket and shirt.

A blob of pendulous, veiny pink wobbled around in his vision, growing large enough to push away his zipper (the remaining pressure on his crotch was enough to make him blush and stand erect). He gulped in confusion. It looked like...

His body answered his thoughts; the itchy spots burned, popping out into four long, rod-like teats, each of which stood to attention like his dick. He squeezed; milk beaded at the tip of the teat he had chosen, an unbearable jolt of arousal making him pull and squeeze, pull and squeeze, his udder bloating with milk to make sure he had enough-

Alan tensed up, realising what he was doing. And what it was doing to his body. Not only were his trousers sagging down from the weight of the udder and drenched with milk, a ghostly spotted pattern dotted the fattened globe of his belly. He rubbed his thighs and found they were thicker; he felt the gritty touch of more too.

"I need to go," he said to focus himself. There was no point in keeping his trousers by now; he yanked them off, his jacket soon following. For now, his enormous belly and udder were making it sit too tight. Freed up somewhat, he ran, and didn't stop running until the world smelled like frost and rotten leaves, the only light the dull grey of a sun that couldn't pierce the thick clouds perched in the sky.

He, however, still had his udder, jiggling and wriggling with his every motion. Underneath them, his thighs grew with fat that tightened in parts into muscle, the lower parts of his legs twisting too; standing flat on his feet was uncomfortable now, more so than the ache when he tried holding his heft on his toes alone. Feeling his toes go cold and hard as he focused on him, he realised what was happening- he was no expert, but he read articles. Sometimes the magic of an overflow was affected by thought.

So he couldn't think about his changes until he got back to the nearest town. That was fine. This would be fine. Sweat beaded at his forehead, making his scalp feel scratchy (he gritted his teeth again, averting his mind from the sensation of fur overtaking his tufts of blond).

It was awfully scary out here. Lots of nasty predators could lurk in the dark, waiting to eat his plentiful flesh...

Alan grabbed his temples, arms bulging with fresh fat; no! He wasn't that fat, he thought, fingers stretching away and hardening, belly puffing out just a bit more. His shirt ached against the weight of his belly. And besides, this was Scotland; what predators would be out here? Dogs? He'd hear that from miles away, he thought, scratching the short hide on his ears.

Shit! He recoiled in shock at how the change had crept there. His ears responded, muscles elongating in them until he felt the uncanny feeling of being able to move them, the long shapes swivelling around.

That was it- no more. He had to focus; he had to. The next few metres he trudged in grim silence, where despite himself he noticed his weird shapes and new weight, legs growing stiffer and aching with the abnormal position of bipedal travel. Soon he'd be walking like a cow.

Alan slapped his hard palm to his face at his stupidity, though it ended up being more of a bat as his arm crooked in weird ways, the bones warping around like rubber. He gained a hunch from the effort of standing upright on legs most assuredly not meant for that, knees lowing in protest from being forced to bear weight without his arms.

Breath caught in his throat, his body slumping to the ground. His arms met it, making him skitter like some sort of obese beetle (he noticed then that he'd lost his shoes and socks somewhere; when had that happened?) Too afraid of what further change might bring, he slumped onto his side and gasped for breath, closing his eyes. It worked for a while, his mind turning blank in the face of what it knew would be total destruction if it slipped even a little.

But it was impossible to ignore forever, especially with no way of escaping; there was no signal here, and he couldn't get at his phone, anyway. Any sort of motion would set off his changes when he noticed them, and he wasn't capable of walking properly, anyway.

He sighed. An overflow this powerful couldn't hide for long- surely they would find him soon? They had tools to find victims of magic rendered otherwise unrecognisable, right? Maybe it would be best to give in; he couldn't survive out here lying on his side forever. Cows couldn't lie on their sides for long at all, he vaguely recalled.

His ribcage bulged at that, even more fat running over his bones to make him plump. Alan lowed in fear, bringing himself to his hooved feet before he could think about it. Why had he chosen to lie like that? It simply wasn't comfortable.

His mouth grew rubbery, bulging lips incapable of making any articulate sound, his broad teeth rubbing against flatter, bigger teeth. Every bit of him was so very big. Except for his cock.

He felt rather than saw it recede, his neck too small on his broadening body to move his head much. It was hard to worry much, especially once she felt a massive, wet cunt open in its place. The grass on the ground was delicious. Her thin nostrils flared, pushing to the sides with her eyes; she could see all around her, and knew any predator would be highly unlikely to catch her now.

And now? She swished her tail, unable to completely remember what she had been doing, only understanding it was rather important. She had been in trouble, and now she was here eating grass without a herd. No matter how tasty it was, that was not ideal. What was also not ideal was her body- her udder wasn't as full as it could be. That felt like something cold against her hide. It was good to produce things; it was her purpose.

The cow wandered, eyes growing duller. Where once confusing but present memories lurked, they grew blurry like water, refocusing as scenes of grass and bulls and cows, if they didn't become empty holes in her brain. Drool dribbled from the side of her thick mouth as she lowed. She needed... do... something. The grass was tasty. Bright light was ahead.

Familiar! She lowed again, udder jiggling by her kicking hooves. A good place, this was. Warm. She knew it smelled grassy. She trotted on in.

After that it was very bright and she felt awake again, so she lay down properly for a minute before resuming her foraging, all the grass so lovely she felt as if she would fill up with milk already. Life was very nice here.

Still, there was no herd. She didn't like that bit, not at all. Her hooves brushed against the bright light of the ley lines as she longed for company-

She blinked. Was it just her, or was the surrounding land different? The grass was so much longer. Ears flicking, she chewed it up. What a nice place she was at now. Her tail swished off sparkling flies with ease. In the distance, another cow mooed.

Another cow? She was faster than she usually was, running through the golden meadow. Suddenly, the world changed a lot; the ground was greener and the sky a lot bluer. In the distance, a set of familiar looking enclosures stood.

"Hey girl!" The spotty teenager patted her behind the ears, which she understood more than his words. "Another one who got lost in the ley lines? That's fine, we'll take great care of you here." She followed him eagerly, knowing he was very nice.

Sadly, he left her in a pasture instead of remaining to pet and milk her. "Need to tell Dad about all the goddamn cows," he muttered. Her ears drooped.

Fortunately, she didn't have long to mope before she caught a musky, rich scent. The bull huffed and stabbed his horns at the air, cock already bouncing about beneath his immense balls. He was on her before she could think, shoving his rob as far as it would go and making a furious pace as he thrust in and out. All she could do was moo in pleasure and drool, thinking of the sheer amount of seed she would soon be full of...