FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

El Dorado, The Fountain of Youth, the Ark of the Covenant, Atlantis. There were countless legends that lured young men to their graves, or at least, to their lost fortunes and other hardships. Women being so tempted by fantastical and implausible adventures in cities with streets paved with gold were far less common, though it was unclear if it was because of some mystical feminine intuition or simply a lack of quite the same risk-taking spirit that men possessed… and that often possessed them.

Indigo was different. She was an adventurous woman and following up on exactly those kinds of tall tales and rumors. There wasn't much truth to them, but the thing was, sometimes they were adjacent to reality, and when that was the case, there was a ton of money to be made. The tale she was chasing was about yet another fountain of youth, but unlike most such legends, there seemed to be an element of truth to this one. Not that she expected to actually find a fountain granting eternal youth, but perhaps something similar. A natural spring that was energizing or good for the skin would still be an amazing find. If only the forest wasn't so painfully dense, she thought, as she brought down her machete to clear away yet more deep brush that impeded her progress.

She was atypical in several ways. Not only was she a woman and a treasure hunter, but she was also a deer. Most deer were skittish cowards, something that Indigo had always resented them for. She wasn't afraid of a little challenge, though she did let out a frustrated squeal when her little antlers caught on yet another low-hanging branch. She'd taken such good care of them, and soon they'd be a chipped mess.

But it'd all be worth it when she burst into the next clearing and saw that damned spring. At this point, cold and wet as she was – the forest was more like a _rain_forest today, with a constant drenching drizzle – she'd taken anything. A fountain of tax returns, a fountain of natural soda water, a fountain of virility or fertility.

Indigo thought about how much money an all-natural virility booster for men would earn, and the answer was undoubtedly a lot. God only knew everyone was eager to waste every last penny on cures that didn't even function. Men and their penises, Indigo thought.

Though cold and miserable as she was, she couldn't help but turn to imagining a big, strong, warm man embracing her firmly, too. Sheltering her from the drizzle with his own body, and of course, his hardness poking between her legs, just as eager to warm her insides.

Indigo shook her head. Not the right time or place. In fact, given that the sun had already begun to set, she figured it was probably about time to set up her tent. The deer quickly found a somewhat dry spot under a few massive fir trees. It wasn't dry in the sense of actually dry, but more like laundry that'd been hung out for a few hours on a cold day, and that was the best she could hope for in these circumstances.

The spikes went into the mossy ground, and quickly Indigo had her basic little tent – all the shelter she would get tonight – pulled up nicely in the middle of three trees. She practically dove inside, and just the feeling of not having the rain constantly falling on her was such a relief that she almost moaned with happiness.

A quick rummage through her frankly oversized backpack later, she was toweling herself off. Small luxuries, Indigo told herself, were what life was all about. Sure, she could've been at home eating lobsters and oysters and drinking aged red wine, wrapped up in not just one but two or even three blankets, and that'd be a grand old time, but then again, would she really enjoy the cotton caress of a plain towel as much as if she did?

“That's a negative," she said out loud, hanging the towel up on a little line strung between the tent's back and front, and began rubbing her antlers with an oily ointment that'd keep them from soaking up too much moisture. God forbid they started to mold. She'd have to get rid of them entirely; really, that's what any self-respecting explorer would've done ages ago, but she liked the antlered look. They were a great accessory for parties, and not all does could even grow a pair.

But right now, she certainly wished she didn't have them.

Finally, with the routines taken care of, she slipped inside her sleeping bag and turned off her little electric lantern, just in time to hear a loud crack somewhere in the woods to her left. Indigo froze, perfectly still and silent in the dark. It wasn't something she enjoyed doing, but she was naked and her potential weapons were deep inside her backpack, and so that cervine reflex to freeze came in handy.

Stomp-stomp-stomp, something moved around outside, crackling twigs and even branches. It didn't seem to be approaching, and from the cadence of its footsteps, it sounded bipedal. No, not feet, this was the sound of hooves, the way they clacked against stone every few steps. Another deer, no. Too big. A moose, maybe. A bull, possibly.

Indigo was no stranger to dealing with hostile creatures and predators. But in this kind of darkness, whoever it was wouldn't see her. Nothing that big and hooved saw well in the dark, or so she told herself to calm her rapidly beating heart. She slowly pulled down the tent's zipper and peeked outside. It was almost entirely dark by now, but she saw a shape move away from her. It seemed to be holding a bow – silhouetted by the last light of the sun – with a spear strapped to its muscular back. Given the horns, it was indeed a bull, male, and the attire told Indigo that he was part of some forgotten tribe in the area.

Perhaps they'd built a settlement around the spring or fountain Indigo was looking for. She might be able to talk her way past bulls and… well, logically, the females of the tribe would be cows. They were similar enough, even if she was rather athletic and lithe in comparison to the heavy-set bovines and their curvy women. Still, alerting the bull, who was no doubt a hunter, in this light would be foolish.

But what was he hunting? Bulls didn't eat meat.

Indigo closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. He was out here armed, looking for something, but not hunting for food. Did that make him a slaver, or a guard? Either way it meant that the deer had to be supremely careful.

And as fate would have it, just as that realization dawned on her, a branch snapped above her, in the mild nocturnal breeze, as if by divine misfortune. It crashed down on her tent – light enough that it only made the tent crumple, rather that hurting her – and she immediately heard the bull turn around with a snort. He let out a bellowing cry, no doubt noticing Indigo's little tent, which meant it was time for a getaway. The deer grabbed most of her things and jumped out of her cozy tent back into the cold drizzle, just barely avoiding the bull leaping for her.

He was fast, no doubt used to hunting in these woods. That was something he had over Indigo. But the deer was no doubt smarter. She wove through trees too close together for the massive bull to pass, leaving him to go around. She leapt over a creek, scaled a small cliff wall, and continued blindly running into the dark, but the bull was hot on her heels, so close that she could hear his heavy breathing, and just about feel it on her neck, too. He was relentless and no doubt in his prime, whereas Indigo – through in good shape herself – was starting to run out of steam.

Could she try to talk to him? Maybe, if they spoke the same language, or something vaguely comprehensible. Would he listen? Doubtful, given the mad chase. He moved and sounded like a predator despite being a bull, one that was hyper-focused on his prey. That meant she had to run. And quickly. Indigo barely managed to dodge off to the side, the bull's enormously thick arm just barely missing her.

Fuck. This wasn't how her day was meant to go. Her heart felt like it was about to explode from the adrenaline and exertion. The bull wasn't going to eat her, bovines couldn't do that. He wasn't going to kill her either, or she'd already have felt his spear or arrows.

But as she was panickedly thinking of how she'd try to convince the bull to let her go, Indigo suddenly felt a sharp, stinging pain in her buttock. Moments later, her knees buckled, and she stumbled forward, losing her footing and landing into a river with a loud splash. The paralyzing agent, thankfully, had the same effect on her mind. She wasn't worried in the slightest about her impending doom; the water's cool caress felt like an old friend.

I guess this is it. Drowned in some river in… who even knows. The end of most explorers and treasure hunters. All the fear was gone, though she could mutedly hear someone else splashing around in the river. It wasn't treasure, it wasn't a curse, it was just a goddamn idiot with a bow and a river. So much for all that glory and fame. Good night, sweet princess-

_-_the bull yanked her up from the water with a frustrated growl. “Dumb, dumb, dumb, shoot her just at the riverbank, ugh," he grumbled to himself, hoisting Indigo onto his shoulder. “Yes, mother, I claim this corpse to be my first cow. What a fantastic thought. Stronghorn, you absolute idiot…"

He kept mumbling about it to himself as he carried the half-conscious deer away. Had she been more aware, Indigo would've realized that he seemed a little younger than she'd thought at first. Big and strong, yes, but young. Just about the age when a fresh adult tribesman would be looking for his first, well, partner… or in this case, a cow. Instead, being that she was just about entirely numb to the world external to herself, Indigo merely thought about how warm and strong the bull's body felt against her as she faded, slowly, into a comfortable warm blackness despite the cold drizzle.

“Prepare the ritual," someone stated in the darkness.

Indigo opened her eyes, but just a crack. It seemed the paralyzing poison was short-acting, though it did also look like the night had passed. She found herself in the middle of a primitive-looking village, resting on some kind of raised wooden platform, on very comfortable and warm furs. Next to her, she could smell the bull that'd caught her, and all around the village was abuzz with activity.

It was indeed a tribe of bovines. The males were muscular bulls, and the women cows, only a little less muscular, and considerably curvy in contrast. Some had breasts so large and heavy Indigo would almost have to call them udders. Most adult cows seemed to be pregnant too, ranging from just a month or two to a full nine months pregnant, with proudly swollen bellies. Others seemed to be in the process of getting there; all around Indigo, she could see and hear couples mating. Some against walls, some down on the ground like animals. Either way, she was very aware of the rhythmic slapping of hips and the moos and bellowing groans of pleasure.

It seemed like she'd been caught at the time of some festival or another. Maybe that was a good sign; it seemed to be one of fertility. And she wouldn't have to worry about any pregnancies; deer and bulls weren't exactly compatible. Though ideally, she would've preferred not getting fucked at all, it'd be a small price to pay for escaping her captivity.

She heard the approach of heavy footsteps along creaking wooden stairs, and quickly, Indigo closed her eyes again.

“This is the one you caught?" a deep but feminine voice asked. They did indeed speak her language. It was a broken, dialectal form that'd surely grown out of distant interactions with other cultures, but it was recognizable and understandable.

“Yes, this is the one," the bull – her captor – answered. “But I have to admit, with great shame, that she almost drowned as a result of my actions."

“Then you'll be more careful next time, son," the first speaker replied. “Otherwise, we might make you take a corpse as your bride. But this time, it didn't happen. Is she awake?"

“Yes, mother. I saw her looking at the village earlier," the bull replied. So much for trying to be stealthy, Indigo sighed internally. She opened her eyes and sat up, surprised at just how weak her body felt.

“So, what's the deal?" she asked, making her best attempt at seeming unbothered by it all, as if she'd meant to get captured.

“You'll be joining our tribe as my son's wife," the cow-mother grinned. She was dressed in what almost looked like regalia, including a headdress with horns to compensate for her lack of them. To Indigo, that suggested that she must be the tribe's leader as well, to whatever extent they had one, or perhaps a spiritual leader of some sort. “You'll be giving him many healthy calves."

Indigo, despite having a very distinct interest in not angering the people who had captured her, couldn't suppress her more caustic side. She rolled her eyes. “If you didn't notice," she scoffed. “Not a cow. See? No splotches, no giant tits, no…"

The deer paused for a moment. Maybe where she was headed wasn't the right direction. The cow, though, looked more amused than anything.

“We have our ways of making you moo," she grinned. “Not all of us started off as cows."

For making such an outlandish claim, the chieftain-cow had precious little proof to show. But Indigo had a thought; if the legend of the spring was true, maybe it did have some kind of powers. That would explain what they meant.

“So, little explorer, would you like to know what awaits you?" she asked. The offer seemed genuine, if a little menacing given that it involved her becoming a cow. Or so it seemed. Hesitantly, Indigo nodded.

“Our ancestors built this village here for one reason. There is a spring that grants anyone who drinks from it boundless fertility, which it does seems as if you could use," the cow smiled. Her fingers slipped along Indigo's side, over her slender hips. “Not nearly wide enough. How do you plan on ever having calves like this?"

She looked at the deer appraisingly.

“Tits are too small too. You won't feed many with those little bumps," she added. “But the spring is not what shall grant you that. What shall do so is the milk of anyone who drinks from the spring in turn. My milk."

Indigo closed her eyes. What the cow proposed seemed even less likely than a magical fountain. But she'd play along for now. At worst they'd force her to drink someone's milk. Not that she was going to. That defiant, aggressive explorer spirit within her protested at the mere idea, she wasn't going to do any of that, no matter the cost. Probably. While she perhaps wouldn't mind nursing on someone, this cow wasn't that person.

“Okay. So, your whole thing is that you kidnap random women and try to make them into… what, cows?" she asked.

“Into good breeding cows for our men," she smiled, speaking with absolute certainty. “You are not the first, and each one doubted us," she continued before calling out two names: Calia and Moonflower.

Two more cows climbed up the stairs to the platform, standing on either side of Indigo. They looked almost identical to all the other cows; exaggerated parodies of feminine fertility. Quite a few times, Indigo had been happy about her modest breasts. They didn't hurt her back and they didn't get in the way. All of these cows around her were at least ten times larger. She felt a conflicting mixture of empathy for how much of a burden they were… and a sting of jealousy, as she thought about it further.

“Tell her about who you were, and what happened when you joined us," the mother-cow told the others. “I'll get everything else ready."

She went on to light what looked like bundles of incense; twigs and leaves coated in some sort of flammable, aromatic wax. They smelled sweet even before the smoldering flame caught, and once it did, they quickly filled the air around Indigo with a floral, herbal, sugary scent that she knew would never leave her fur.

“I used to be a cougar," one of the cows – Indigo thought it was the one named Moonflower, though it was hard to tell the difference between two cows with the same splotchy coloring – said, squeezing of her rather heavy breasts, as if remembering the changes excited her. “Then, well, they made me a member of the tribe. I barely remember my previous life."

“It was such a wonderful experience, wasn't it?" the other, Calia, responded. She seemed to be getting visibly excited too. The white tip of her broad, bovine muzzle was blushing a rosy red with desire. “Mm, I remember my first taste of the milk."

“Yeah! And that just makes it impossible to not want more, even as you watch yourself change, getting bigger and bigger-“

“-mooing happily-“

“-getting so goddamn wet, too, remember?" Moonflower added with a flustered grin. “And then finally taking your bull's blessing…"

“Mm, every throb of it, being claimed so thoroughly," Calia murmured, and made no attempt to hide the fact that she was rubbing herself, kneading her fingers into her wet, puffy slit. “And just, yeah. Becoming a pregnant cow, like all good cows should be."

“Yeah. I remember his amazing cock, just feeling like I was melting with him pumping all that calf-batter inside me," the other cow reminisced.

Indigo had already all but tuned the two horny cows out. Neither looked as if they'd ever been anything but cows. Maybe the tribe experimented too much with hallucinogens. Or aphrodisiacs. Looking around herself again, Indigo could see the rest of the villagers getting more and more worked up as they watched their mother-cow and the bull – Stronghorn – prepare for whatever they were going to do. Indigo had a pretty good idea, and she didn't like it.

She could've made a run for it. Chances are the nimble deer, not weighed down by enormous tits like all the cows, could at least make it back into the woods. And then what? She had no idea where she was, she had no point of reference, nothing to navigate by, and all her belongings were somewhere else.

Indigo didn't even have her clothes. Thanks to the warmth of the sun she hadn't noticed it before, but when she did – realizing that her breasts and even her little pussy were on full display – she fought back an embarrassed squeak, quickly closing her legs.

She could run, but nothing good for come of it. She'd just have to endure whatever they had planned for her, and not succumb to whatever brainwashing they intended to make her think she was a cow. One of the two horny ones had mentioned addictive milk. That, Indigo could believe, and it was another reason to not drink a drop.

Easy enough. All she had to do was resist until they gave up.

The mother-cow stepped in front to address the gathering crowd.

“Today, we welcome another new cow to our herd!" she announced, proudly. “This one, to be the wife of my son, Stronghorn! May she provide him with many calves, and may you all be inspired to be fruitful as you watch!"

That was one way to phrase it. Evidently, the cow wanted an orgy. Indigo shifted, readying herself to get off the platform – an altar, now, decorated with incense and exotic flowers – when Calia and Moonflower grabbed her arms and held her in place, and she was nowhere near strong enough to break their grasp. Cows as they might be, the two were also strong, owing to their sheer bulk. Somewhere behind the stage, where she couldn't see, someone began to beat a steady rhythm on drums. Indigo resigned herself to the fact that she'd just have to go through whatever dumb ritual the tribe had planned for her.

She was damn near choking on the thick incense, though. It made her head feel numb and hazy, or perhaps more vacant and placid, the way the young deer imagined cows felt all the time. So, they were burning intoxicants around her. Big deal. It's not like you've never gotten high, she told herself. Just enjoy it, I guess.

Not that she had much of a choice. Indigo could do nothing but listen to the rhythmic drumming, noticing that it, combined with the smoke, had a rather entrancing effect. In the daze she was slowly falling into, she never saw a third cow approach before she felt a cold, wet brush against her belly, which made her give a loud squeak of startlement.

“Shh, just relax," the painter murmured. “We'll have to make you look the part first."

Indigo squirmed, unable to stop herself from squeaking and giggling – entirely against her will – as the wet brush swiped over her sensitive belly. The cow was painting big, black splotches on her, and then white between each. Though initially a discomfort, soon that sensation of the steady strokes of the brush was contributing to her hazy-minded state. She was relaxing into the arms of her captors.

But it felt a little too relaxing not to. So what if they painted her like a cow? Even if it was permanent, her fur would grow out eventually.

She didn't mind.

Between two black outlines over her belly, the nameless cow drew what looked more like glyphs of some sort. Long, swirling patterns of dots that made the deer feel oddly warm, as if the paint was soaking into her.

“They'll ensure that you're fertile for your wonderful bull," the cow crooned, her voice breathy but melodic as she continued. “You'll be such a good cow."

Indigo opened her mouth to protest but instead, she moaned out as the painter's brush swiped over her clit, dipping lower. She felt hypersensitive all over, tingly and warm, which had to be the smoke's doing. But all around herself, the villagers were fucking. They were in a frenzy now, like animals in heat, gathering in groups to take turns riding or rutting each other, pinning each other against walls, moaning shamelessly. The deer shuddered; it was getting to her, too. How could it not, seeing so many people experience so much pleasure all around her?

She lost track of time, almost hypnotized by the sensations suffusing all of her senses with that dazed, foggy pleasure-state in which nothing was really a big deal. But at the same time, it was having another effect on her. Indigo realized, to her horror, and she was staring to leak onto the platform. She was getting horny, but not just in the normal sense of wanting sex. No, her body, influenced by whatever the cows were doing, was tingly all over, a warmth inside her that threatened to grow into a raging wildfire.

She was going into heat! That was their whole idea-

“She's almost ready," the painter said. She held up a mirror, and Indigo caught quick glimpse of herself painted just like the cows. Only her body hadn't changed; she was still the slender doe she'd always be.

Right?

Just then, the tribe's leader, the mother-cow, came to stand in front of her, and though Indigo was dizzy with the growing desires of her body, she wasn't too far gone to realize that she found herself staring directly at the cow's heavy breasts. They seemed to be leaking, a slow dribble of white down the curve of her tit. Milk. She didn't look pregnant like the others, but then, maybe cows just didn't need to be pregnant to produce milk. Indigo didn't know.

It did, however, have a sweet fragrance to it, enough so that she could smell it even over the heavy incense. Something about it made her want to wrap her lips around the cow's teat and drink deeply, but the deer refused to listen to that part of herself. The cow, though, nodded towards her.

“It's time to make you into one of us," she smiled. There was a maternal, if malignant, glint to her gaze as she spoke those words. “Drink."

“N-nope," Indigo replied, though she didn't sound nearly as confident as she was hoping she would. Her mouth felt parched thanks to the smoke, and the idea of a mouthful of milk was appealing. Just not from her. She couldn't give her captors that kind of satisfaction. “I won't."

“You will. Calia, Moonflower?" she asked, and suddenly the two pushed her face firmly into the leader's bosom, her lips against that leaking nipple. “Drink."

Indigo could feel the cow's warm, sweet milk drip against her lips. The fragrance of it was overwhelming, this close. She kept her lips tightly sealed, though, no matter how much that growing, taboo-breaking part of her wanted to open them.

Of course, she didn't end up having a choice. Calia and Moonflower pried her mouth open the moment she relaxed, with their tough, leathery fingers. Her face was pushed firmly against the cow's teat and this time, she could feel – and taste – the milk beginning to pool in her mouth.

“Don't fight it," Calia advised her. “Just let it happen."

It wasn't as if she could. The milk kept pooling against the back of her throat, and she knew that she'd end up choking for it if she didn't swallow. In any case, it was just milk, no matter who it came from. And so, Indigo swallowed, feeling the warmth rush down her throat. Nothing happened at first, but just as she was about to breathe a muffled sigh of relief, the deer suddenly realized that she wanted more. The cow-mother's milk was indeed immediately addictive, and it intensified the warm, fuzzy, and malleable high she was already on.

“That's it. Drink," the cow repeated, as Indigo now willingly suckled on her milky nipple. With each gulp of warm, rich milk, she felt like she needed more. Of course she did. Lots of fatty milk to grow the curves a good cow needed to have, the right udders to feed a dozen calves.

Wait, what?

What was that thought?

Indigo opened her eyes, and though she couldn't turn, she could see her arms in her peripheral vision. Her fur was growing pale around where the black splotches had been painted. First pale, and then white.

Her mouth popped off the cow's breast, soaking her own modest chest with milk, as the deer was quickly pushed down onto her back by the assistants. The tingling feeling had spread across all of her, now, but at the same time, the anxiety was fading away, drowned out by the pleasure. Indigo was dizzy, barely able to think at all, when she felt a possessive hand on her breasts, squeezing one and then the other, rubbing the cow's milk into her fur and the tender skin just beneath.

The deer had drunk so much of it that her belly felt bloated, though not in a bad way. It felt like she was full of a pleasant warmth that radiated from her full stomach to every other part of her. Her breasts included. They felt swollen, as if they were growing.

She didn't mind too much. Or did she? Every thought was like wading through thick mud, and it was only becoming harder. Her growing, beautiful tits reminded her of all the other cows, her sisters – no, no, no – and she wanted to look just as beautiful as them. As fertile and as feminine. So when her captor presented his thick bull-cock, already rock-hard and ready to accomplish its purpose, she instinctively spread her legs to invite him into her depths.

“She is ready," the mother-cow announced. “Deep in heat, and already well on her way to becoming one of us."

The bull stepped closer. Indigo craned her neck, trying to get a better look at what was happening as her state of mind kept flickering between wanting it badly, and wanting it to stop. But her sight was blocked by her swelling breasts. They were already big and kept growing.

“I don't- I don't want this, stop," she managed to squeak out, even as the sight of herself changing towards a more and more bovine body excited her, filling her with a twisted sense of pride. “Please."

“Oh, you'll love being one of us in the end," Calia murmured. She leaned over to tweak one of Indigo's nipples, and the changing deer moaned out again. “You're already starting to look the part, and you'll get even bigger when you're pregnant…"

Pregnant. The word made Indigo's lower belly cramp with desire. She wanted to- she didn't want to-

That brief inner conflict was laid to rest by the blunt crown of Stronghorn's cock kissing her dripping folds. Instantly, all thoughts left her head, at least for a brief but blissful moment of anticipation. She bit her lip, hard. And then, with a satisfied grunt, the bull thrust his muscular hips, driving an inch or two of his cock into his new cow. He couldn't quite hilt inside her, owing to how much smaller she was.

“Rrrh, tight and little. We'll fix that," he groaned, holding back the urge to thrust roughly into her. “You'll have a proper breeding cow pussy soon enough."

“Now, now. Show your future partner some respect as you fuck her. She'll be a full member of the tribe soon enough," his mother admonished him. “But yes, then she will be able to take all of you."

Again, Indigo moaned. She couldn't hold it back, no matter how much her increasingly moo-like vocalizations of pleasure embarrassed her. She couldn't hold anything back. She was leaking like faucet around the bull's cock, her eager, traitorous pussy massaging him like a lover, and with every breath she took, she looked and felt more and more like a cow. The incense, the milk, the drumming, it was overwhelming, and when combined with the bull's thrusts, it was too much.

He began rutting into her to the beat set by the drummer. Somehow, Indigo knew exactly what this would lead to, despite the pleasure-punctuated haze. Once he bred her, filled her with spurt after spurt of his thick, potent cum, it'd finish her unnatural transformation. She'd be a cow, and almost assuredly pregnant just like all of her tribe-sisters. And she should be pregnant, shouldn't she? She'd show off both her swollen belly and her enormous, milky breasts with pride, shameless and happy.

“What are you?" the observing cow-mother asked her.

Indigo's reply caught in her throat as the bull – her bull – hit some sensitive spot inside her, and the words came out as a stuttering moan. She knew she should keep resisting, but even the sight of the cow's leaking tits made her want to submit. Indigo herself looked almost fully bovine, now. There wasn't much of her old self left. Was there any point in resisting? To try to keep her mind somewhat intact? Her mouth felt dry, and she felt thirsty for another drink of the intoxicating, addictive milk.

But that'd be the end of her.

“Tell us what you are, loudly, and I'll give you what you want. Other than just my son's cock and seed, that is," the cow smirked. “Accept your place in the tribe."

Indigo didn't know what she wanted anymore. Her thoughts were swirling, smearing into colorful streaks, fully entranced as she was. All she could think about was the cow's warm milk, and the bull's cock pistoning into her to the beat of the drums, steadily speeding up towards an inevitable climax. He was already starting to twitch and throb with every few thrusts. Soon, he'd pump every drop of his seed into her.

“Now," the cow commanded. And that, somehow, was all that it took to break what remained of Indigo's attempts at resisting the hypnotic ritual.

It didn't matter anyway, the fading part of her mind told her; her body was just about fully changed. She had no choice. She was-

“-a cow!" she exclaimed, moaning. “A breeding cow for the tribe!"

“Welcome our newest member, sisters!" the mother-cow announced, and though she was only barely aware of the cheering around her, Indigo still felt a warm, fuzzy pride swell inside her. She was a cow. Right?

And then, their leader lowered her breast to the former deer's mouth again. She latched on eagerly, suckling on her for more of the addictive milk. The sweet rush as she swallowed banished whatever little doubt remained, the sated addiction setting her body afire with desire and lust. She'd been sensitive before, but it felt like her body was made for Stronghorn's cock, now. Like her sopping wet, deep cow-cunt was meant to caress it to orgasm, and like it was meant to fuck her senseless.

Just then, that cock sank all the way into her, like it was meant to. Indigo gasped with joy, realizing that she'd changed enough to fully accommodate his length. The drumming was reaching a rapid pitch, the bull barely able to keep thrusting to it. He was grunting and growling, his bulk resting atop Indigo, squashing her new, large breasts, and from the erratic, frenzied thrusting, she could tell he was going to cum at any moment.

So, she did what any good cow would, and wrapped her legs around his muscular hips to encourage him to empty every last drop of his precious seed inside her thirsty, fertile womb.

“I am a cow!" she exclaimed again, joyfully, when the mother-cow's breast left her mouth. And this time, she fully meant it. After that, nothing intelligible left her mouth, only the squeals, groans, and blissful moos of a cow being properly bred.

It only took Stronghorn a few more thrusts to reach his peak.

“Mine," he growled, hilting inside Indigo at the climax of a frantic series of rapid thrusts, and then held himself there. The drummer stopped, but as soon as Indigo realized it, the bull's cock throbbed to the same rhythm inside her, finishing the ritual in a series of seeding jerks and twitches, each of which was followed by another pressured jet of heat spilling into her.

He was breeding her. Sealing her fate, even, but in a way that left Indigo teetering just on the edge of release herself, savoring and relishing the feeling of the bull's potent heat filling her, as she already fantasized about growing heavy and pregnant with a calf or two. What finally pushed her over the edge were the mouths of Calia and Moonflower, each taking one of her nipples into their own mouths and sucking on her firmly.

That sensation completely blanked her mind, and she came with a loud, shameless moo erupting from her lips. Her orgasm left her spasming, twitching, crying out at the top of her lungs as pleasure wracked her body. Indigo's new, deeper sex clenched, squeezed, and milked her bull's twitching cock, drawing as much of his belly-swelling bounty into her as possible. Their bodies worked in perfect harmony, the kind of ecstatic mutual release only ever possible between a cow and bull, until his throbbing ceased and he nearly slumped down, propping himself up on his elbows to keep from crushing his new, beautiful cow.

The clearing went quiet. Everyone seemed to freeze, or at least grow still for a moment.

“She has received his seed! Welcome, again, our newest sister!" the cow-mother announced loudly, and the rest of the tribe around her erupted into cheers and applause.

Not that Indigo really paid any attention to it. Her head still felt as if it was full of cotton. Everything was pleasant, warm bliss, from the thick heat of sperm utterly filling her body, to the weak breeze that carried, still, the scents of incense and sex.

She was happy. Pregnant, no doubt, and happy.

And so it continued, that feeling of happiness. For the following weeks, then months, and then years, Indigo was truly happy. She was nothing but another cow in the tribe, and she delighted in watching her body change with the second round of transformations, this one brought on by her pregnancy. Slowly, her belly began to grow, and the newly-minted cow showed it off with pride. Even more so, when her breasts began to leak milk, marking her, one last time, as a proper cow.

Indeed, most of her time was spent heavily pregnant, but it was a good life of comfort and relative luxury regardless, and every time someone new was brought to join the tribe, it meant another orgy, which she, along with all her sisters, always looked forward to. Their husbands were never happy with just one cow each, after all, which meant that they, every few years, would catch and transform another wanderer from the forests nearby. Or more commonly, from other tribes.

Thus, when Stronghorn returned, one of those nights, carrying a gazelle on his broad shoulders, Indigo instantly found herself getting wet imagining helping in her ritual and truly introducing her to the tribe. She'd make such a perfect, curvy cow. She squeezed the enormous breasts she was so proud of, already fantasizing about helping her new sister-wife grow into her new role.

Being a cow was amazing, especially with a bull to rut away her heat each time it came.