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Day 17 - Transformation

"A small mistake"

By Patrick D. Lambert

Commissioned by Columbus Nimbus

The spell had been another failure. Columbus saw the runes glow for a moment, only for the magic to disappear a moment later. He was confident he had done it right this time. A transmutation spell wasn't really that hard; even an apprentice could do it. However, even the brightest mind can forget the simplest task. Or well, that's how the dragon justified his mistake.

It was probably the music blasting from his roommate's room. Columbus believed the concrete dividing the bedroom from the attic was thick enough to keep the sound away, yet the vibrations felt by his paws said otherwise.

"Could you keep it down?!" He yelled in frustration while stomping on the ground, even when he knew his idiotic roommate wouldn't listen to it.

The blue robe covering his chubby body opened up, the knot around the waist too weak to resist the movement of his waist. His naked body under it came to light with an uncanny sensuality that didn't match his behavior. His belly wiggled a bit, the short-trimmed fur covering him sweaty after the time he spent in the attic.

Columbus waited a moment, yet the volume remained the same. With a grunt, he seeked comfort in the bushy golden beard he was so proud of, pulling it softly, like those old guys from martial arts' movies. While his right hand was occupied on that, the left one went down to scratch under his balls. And by sheer instinct, conscious he was alone there, he sniffed the musk lingering in his fingers, a smell that left a salty taste in his mouth.

It was easy to blame his roommate for the mistake. The music broke his focus, that's why the spell didn't work. He closed again his robe with a poorly made knot, secretly allured by how kinky it was to have his body partially covered yet not enough, just like a slutty housewife hoping to get the mailman's cock while the husband was at work.

His large tail wagged from side to side while he checked on the transmutation circle, just to make sure he had done it right; it was, again, easy to blame his roommate, but Columbus knew that trick wouldn't work again, and it was unforgivable he couldn't do a spell so simple.

He stood in the middle of the circle and checked his book a second time, a large and heavy tome with a bunch of sheets coming out of it. Both hands were needed to hold it, with a telekinetic spell being used to turn the pages.

"Everything seems to be in order," the dragon muttered, comparing the inscriptions in the ground with what appeared on paper. "Did I pronounce something wrong?"

It was a very common mistake, even for those that had dedicated his life to the study of magic. Some spells required a very specific pronunciation. It was still embarrassing to think that's what happened, but nothing else seemed wrong. In moments like that Columbus wished to be like those powerful wizards that could cast any spell with a snap of his fingers, but he was still years away from being that powerful.

"Well, let's try this again."

The dragon was getting ready to sit in the middle of the circle when the robe got in the middle, almost throwing him down. How did that happen? Not even Columbus could explain it, but as soon as he recovered his balance, the whitish dragon put the book down and removed the bath covering his body. He wouldn't need it, anyway, and no one was there to witness neither his ritual nor his naked body.

It was a sight to admire. The meaty torso wiggled with each movement, a delicate move that felt almost hypnotic to the common eye. His pecs invited anyone to rub and squeeze them, and had the perfect size to press them together in the middle for a... kind of a fun ride. The bath slided down his large and big tail, one he wagged gracefully on the street to show off the golden fur on top of it.

He felt no shame in his naked figure. One could say he had a bit of attraction to himself, judging by the unconscious way in which he moved to make those physical traits more notorious, with or without clothes on.

After kicking the bath away from the circle, Columbus sat again with his legs crossed. He drew a circle in the air with his index finger, and the candles around him turned on instantly. A snap from his finger turned off the lightbulb on top of him, sinking the attic in an uncanny darkness the candles alone couldn't fight completely.

With both arms in the air in a pleading, the dragon closed his eyes and muttered a forbidden language, one made of words a simple mind wouldn't understand. He put special care on the pronunciation, being extremely cautious on each word spoken just to be sure.

Nothing happened right away, until a red glow appeared on the center of the circle and spread across it, following the black lines painted by the fat dragon. The flames flickered at the arrival of an invisible energy summoned by the wizard, the one responsible for powering up the ritual. The already unnatural darkness that had swallowed most of the basement became stronger, and it crawled towards Columbus, ready to jump at him like a starving beast.

The dragon perceived the magic. It circled around it, slowly gaining strength with each word he uttered. His small horns glowed dimly, and when he opened his eyes, the blue pupils had acquired the same red color from the ritual circle. The fur from his naked body bristled. The magic lifted his heavy body as if it was a feather. And while he continued muttering the spell unconsciously, the magic began to reach for him.

Columbus felt it like soft fingers moving over his skin, pulling him into its embrace while touching with care and love the sensitive skin under the fur. Sweet at first, its embrace slowly transformed into desire while those hands continued exploring each inch of his chubby body, leaving no inch unattended. It didn't stop his conjuring--his mind kept casting it unconsciously--, but it did make him giggle and laugh at times.

Strings of magic continued wrapping around his body. The glow from his horns matched in tone with the summoning ritual, red like fresh blood. The words at that point had lost all meaning, the ritual powered enough to continue on its own.

It entered through his mouth and nose. It spreaded through his blood like the air he breathed. Magic filled Columbus from head to toe, preparing his body for the transformation he craved.

And he could feel it already--but not in the way he expected. More of that powerful energy came inside him; more than he could handle it. His initial joy from that sensitive touch turned into anxiety, then into desperation when he perceived how much magic was gathering in his body and mind. But before Columbus had a chance to stop the ritual, his mind was assaulted by tempting, alluring, lascivious images of the body he wanted so badly.

Bigger, fatter, muskier. A cowbell on his neck. His messy golden mane danced with the wind, while his belly jumped up and down to match his joyful walk. A strong smell of sweat, the semitransparent droplets covering his body even when his effort had been quite low. It was him, only in the body of a fat and stinky cow.

The species had become an obsession for him over the past few weeks, after watching a couple of them jogging at a nearby park. The way their bodies moved on those tight sport clothes hypnotized the dragon, who creepily began to check on the couple every day, already on a trance of his own from witnessing a magnificent display of beauty and perfection that very few people could appreciate--judging by those who dared to mock on their exercise.

When watching was no longer enough, magic became the only solution to his problem, and a door to experience what he considered a body superior to his.

The spell made sure to remind him that. Images of him as a cow kept on flashing before his eyes. And it felt so real. Before his anxiety could turn into desperation, the magic threw him back into a trance. His expression softened, and a dumb smile grew in his large maw. The red glow from his eyes turned into blue, while tiny spirals appeared on his pupils, spinning at a slow pace.

Like snow, white fur fell from his body and covered the floor below him. The transformation had begun. Columbus, unlike other dragons, didn't have scales or a rough skin; it was soft and sensitive. The spell started by turning his skin thicker and rougher, even harsh to touch. Still white, it also gave Columbus a black-dotted pattern of different sizes and shapes, just like many other cows he had seen before.

What food didn't give him, the magic did, and Columbus gained some extra pounds in a matter of seconds, visible mostly on his waist and belly, but some were down his thighs too. Both arms and legs widened instantly, leaving no muscle visible under the skin.

His big tail shrunk dramatically. There was no majesty left on it, as it had acquired an extremely thin aspect, with only a lock of hair left on the tip. By sheer instinct, the tail lashed against his body, already adopting the habits and vices of a cow. Why did that happen? Columbus couldn't tell. His body just did it. It felt natural. It felt... right.

While the physical transformation continued, the spell reached his mind too, and set roots deep inside of it, and absorbed Columbus' intellect to gain more power. The knowledge gained over years of study, devotion, and practice, vanished from his memories. Like the surface of a frozen lake during the first days of Spring, holes began to appear all around him, leaving Columbus' consciousness trapped in the one patch of ice that refused to melt.

Things he knew for years lost all meaning. Spells of all kinds, names, stories, locations, rituals, that and more broke into pieces; some were absorbed by the spell, and what little was left on his mind was so fragmented it made no sense to Columbus. But he didn't care about it. All he cared about was his new body, one that was slowly coming to life.

He felt no pain. Even when his body was physically changing so abruptly, Columbus didn't suffer from the magic tearing the skin and muscles apart. Instead, he embraced the power with tears of joy running down his cheeks. The magic lifted him more off the ground to give him room to stretch his limbs completely, turning his transformation into pure ecstasy.

His balls grew. His cock got thicker. His pits and crotch emanated the strong and intoxicating musk of a cow that had not taken a shower in days. And it all gathered inside the cluttered attic, making it harder to breathe.

But this did not stop Columbus from grabbing himself by the horns when the bliss of his transformation became too intense for him to handle it. His huffs turned into moans, and his moans into screams, until he forgot how to growl or grunt and instead a long moo came out of his rectangle-shaped snout.

His trance continued. It got stronger as the process went on. What started as a slow and steady ride had turned into a wild descend into madness, trapped in that endless swirl that sucked away his memories and intellect, turning his brain into an almost hollow husk, deprived of any smartness, reducing Columbus to a simple fat brute of big balls and reeking pits.

At the pace of a beating heart, the red tendrils of magic holding and invading his body turned visible. The magic was no longer obeying him, corrupted by the unknown entity that had zonked Columbus with the promise of becoming a cow completely; not just physically but mentally. And the wizard, already weakened by his own obsession, fell straight into its trap.

His golden mane grew so much it covered the upper half of his face; so did the horns that twisted to match a bull's. The smell coming off his pits was so strong and his nose got so sensitive he couldn't resist to take deep whiffs of it, even when he had both arms down. Columbus drooled, prey of the maddening ecstasy that was ravaging what little was left of his brain.

And, to seal the spell, the cowbell flew straight to his neck. The loud and quick ding was like an orgasm over and over again. The pre coming off his cock was so thick and abundant anyone could've swear he had come. Even Columbus believed he did, with his fat body trembling hard from a pleasure so intense it almost broke the trance.

But when the invisible collar closed around his neck, attaching the cowbell to him forever, any possibility to save Columbus disappeared.

The flames died instantly. And the magic dropped Columbus to the ground. The stomp of his fat ass shook the entire house so hard his roommate turned the music off and ran out of the house, believing an earthquake was about to strike.

The darkness that once had swallowed the attic returned to the dark corners of the room, and the street light coming through the window illuminated the... cow sitting on the ground.

Columbus, now completely transformed into a cow, took a moment to snap out of the trance. His expression wasn't any different from the one of a drunkard, with saliva hanging from his mouth and his eyes still displaying those colorful swirls.

He stayed like that for a moment. His brain refused to give an order to his body. It took him several seconds to even remember his name. Aside from that... he couldn't remember anything.

And he didn't try to. His attention went immediately over his massive belly. It jiggled beautifully thanks to those extra pounds. He stayed like that for a couple of minutes, finding a strange joy in his fatness.

When he finally tried to get up, it took a considerable big effort, one that got him all sweaty and muskier. He didn't have trouble standing on his feet, yet he noticed the extra weight he gained after... after... what was he doing after? And why was he naked? And what were all those things scattered across the floor?!

Columbus giggled, his voice now deeper than before. Whatever that was, it didn't matter. He got what he wanted. Despite the many memories he had lost, there was one idea, and one idea alone that still floated in his mind.

He loved being a cow.