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It was a warm, sunny day. Perfect for doing absolutely nothing. Eric Reimond relaxed in the comforting heat, feeling a slight breeze pass through his fur. Half-asleep, he could still make out the laughs and whispers of his mates as they talked, and frolicked, in the fields.

Lacey and Sandra were a short distance away, lounging amidst the picturesque pastoral landscape of their home. Their outdoor home that is. It felt right to call it that, no need for cramped and cluttered human structures anymore, just the elements and each other.

Sandra, reclining back upon the soft soil, ran a hand through the tuft of hairlike fur on the other female's head, as her companion tended to her aching bosom with a practised mouth.

They'd milked earlier in the day, and weren't due again for many hours, so there was some to spare. Much to Sandra's joy Lacey adjusted to her role as herd-sister without complaint, fulfilling all the duties their minds created for bovine life as they knew it. One of which was keeping the superior female happy.

Sandra turned over, exposing her bouncy rear and strong back to Lacey, who knew what to do. Gently placing her hands on the cowgirl's lower back, she began to massage her herd-sister. Sandra let out of low rumble as Lacey relaxed her pent-up muscles, dozing off in the warm sun.

Lacey maintained her manipulations, her capable hands pressing on Sandra's lower back, then travelling upwards to her shoulders, applying much-needed pressure to her frame. Sandra's tail whipped reflexively, hitting Lacey's muzzle with its bushy end. Lacey took the time to catch and stroke said tail every now-and-then.

Alas, the back-rub was short-lived. Another concern materialised...

“Oh crap!"

Sandra woke up with a start. “Wha...what's wrong Lacey?"

“What time is it?"

“Mooh...I...uh...I don't...have a watch."

“I need to get stuff ready for Carl!" Lacey sprang to her feet like a woman possessed, and belted across the field, her hooves kicking up a great deal of dirt and grass as she ran.

Watching her herd-sister run across the fields, Sandra laid back down to take in the pleasant sun. She could follow in a minute. There's no hurry, she knew Tommy would be at the house to meet their liaison with the outside world.

* * *

Carl maintained a steady eye on the road as he drove towards the Reimond-Bovinex farm.

Reimond-Bovinex. That's what all of the maps called this place now, a subsidiary of the Bovinex corporation proper. Anyone searching for information beyond a simple name and place would be left disappointed, as no details of the site's true nature had made it to the outside world. So far. In Carl's mind that was a good thing. He could imagine all sorts of hysteria if their work was made public. But — and this goes for any cloak-and-dagger operation — the secrecy was taking its toll.

Lacey sounded a bit stir-crazy over the phone. Which was understandable, the aftershock of undergoing genetic alteration wasn't something you could simply sleep off. The isolation of her new home didn't help her attitude.

At least she isn't as bossy as she used to be.

True. In the span of a couple weeks Ms. Cain had softened her demeanour. She appeared — to Carl — more content among the Reimonds...but again, that could all be temporary. He thought about asking Frank whether one's personality changed significantly after the transformation; whether the Ms. Cain he knew would be forever altered into something unfamiliar. Thought about it mind you, Carl wasn't eager for a three-hour lecture from the man. Maybe some day, if his concerns persisted.

Day early pick-up. Load extra. Take inventory.

Carl ran through his mental to-do list as he piloted the truck. Thanks to growing consumer demand they needed more and more enriched (hybrid) milk. Hell, even this morning he was handling requests that seemed to only ever increase in volume. He had his hands full. Ms. Cain was pitching in too of course, albeit more on the 'supply' than the 'admin' side of things these days.

Damn, he remarked to himself, it's still weird what's happened this past month.

Ms. Cain...Lacey...what possessed you to do that to yourself?

A cow...human...thing...why?

Ah, I'll never understand it. Too late to change anything anyways. Best keep on keepin' on.

Spending too much time with his own thoughts nearly killed him as his attention to the road ahead vanished in a haze of doubt. Luckily, he returned to his senses before his vehicle careened off the road. Tires squealed as he corrected his course. No-one around to see his little screw-up, fortunately.

“Eyes on the road Carl! Geez..." he reprimanded his distracted self.

He arrived at the farm about two o'clock. Lacey was due to meet with him and hand over her files before he left with their produce. She wasn't there though, Tommy was. Typical.

Lowering his side window, Carl beckoned the boy over: “You on lookout duty again kid?"

Tommy stepped out from the shade and shuffled towards the truck. “Yeah," he replied, his voice faint and his tone distant, “don't know where the rest are."

“That's fine. I can wait. Let's get this loading done in the meantime."

The two worked together to transfer the drums of milk from the staging area beside the house. It was routine for Sandra (and now Lacey) to move the filled containers from their milking shed to here, where Carl only had to strain his back 'cross two yards instead of twelve. He'd asked Eric before to help him load the trucks, but none of them seemed to care that much to help. None of them except Tommy.

He's a good kid, always ready to give a helping hand. Carl wondered how he was faring, now that his visits were becoming a rarer sight. It's true that while Tommy's parents were being 'settled in' to their new life he stuck around quite a lot, making sure the work he'd done on their property suited them, and that they had everything they required to begin making the company some money. As they got used to it, however, he wasn't needed much. This deprived him of the opportunity to act as Tommy's shrink, the teen certainly had plenty of adjusting to do.

I hope he's doin' okay.

The loading was half-way to completion when Lacey chose her moment to enter. Carrying a number of files underarm, she greeted both Carl and Tommy, who kept conversation to a minimum.

“Here," she handed Carl the bundle of documents, “I've sorted all of the invoices for last month and have the purchase orders for this month ready to process."

“Thanks," Carl took them from her, “I'll send these on to the accountants."

Tommy was somewhat encouraged to see Ms. Cain still maintain her former role as manager of the agri-genetics programme. His parents had long forgotten any similar responsibilities. That did not assuage his feelings about the hybrids in general though.

Lacey was well aware of Tommy's disdain for the whole programme, having made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear.

As soon as I'm done with school, I am outta here...never looking back.

He was hurting bad. Alone amongst his family.

My mom and dad died during your experiments. Those animals...don't know what they are, don't care...

The pain was all-too visible on the teenager's face, world-weary and melancholic his eyes were. Carl picked up on that also, but hadn't the time nor the energy to counsel him. His visits too scarce, his days consumed with other errands.

Tommy was close to breaking point. Perhaps he needed time away from here? Yes, perhaps.

* * *

Shortly thereafter the Reimonds themselves showed up at the front of the house. Lacey — her delivery done — returned to Eric's side, opposite Sandra. The bull sneaked his hand down to her backside and grabbed a handful of her ass, his way of saying 'we missed you'. Lacey suppressed a jump, hiding her surprise (and excitement) at her herd-leader's cheekiness. She didn't want to cause a scene.

They both thought no-one noticed their messing around. Carl wasn't looking, but Tommy saw it. Yet another thing to irk him.

“Sure ya don't want to help?" Carl asked the towering behemoth that was Eric Reimond.

“Nah," Eric replied, “you seem on top of it." He ended his remark with a chuckle, draping an arm around each of his mates.

“Dad," as much as Tommy despised referring to him as such, he wanted him to listen, “c'mon, help out. You can lift way heavier things."

“Sweetie," his mother raised her voice, “our job is to provide the milk. It's Mr. Redweather's job to collect and sell it."

“Yeah...I was just saying..."

“Your father does a lot of work to support this family."

Oh is that a fact?

“He doesn't need any more."

He doesn't need any more of a reminder that he's a retarded...half-animal...

“...stubborn sack of sh—"

Tommy paused. The realisation at what he'd done hit him like a tonne of bricks. No...I just said that last part out loud didn't I?

It was now Eric's turn to be pissed off. “Tommy! I've told you before, I didn't raise you to speak like that to either myself or your mother."

Something in the teen snapped, no longer content to put up with his situation. The last straw. He did not care one jot what his parents, or Ms. Cain, or anyone else on this god-damn farm thought about him anymore. He wanted to vent. Wanted to scream bloody murder.

“Maybe if you spent a little more time raising me instead of prancing around the fucking place naked, 'moo-ing' like barnyard animals all the fucking time you'd have noticed I can't deal with all this shit right now!"

Eric had a stern expression on his face as Lacey and Sandra grimaced at Tommy's outburst.

He continued his tirade: “I've been stressed out about school, about my parents being a fucking zoo attraction, about the fact that I can't seem to fit into whatever type of life you all call this. Did you know that? Or do you just not care that I'm basically a nervous wreck right now!?"

Eric didn't answer. He wasn't sure how to. Neither did Sandra. The pair of them were struck by his harsh words, leaving a nasty doubt in their minds. Had they neglected him so severely? It was hard to focus on that question, it seemed so...unimportant...

“Did you know that, huh? I didn't think so. You're all too busy having sex with each other to care," at that remark he noticed their expression change from shock to shame, “oh yeah, didn't think I'd find out? Well I did. I know you two and Ms. Cain have all been very close this past month..."

Lacey tried to interrupt, to explain her side of the story: “I—"

“You...what exactly? Don't pretend you had any objections to this shit. I though you were the most normal, but as it turns out, you're just as much an animal as my parents are!"

She had no objection to that, nor could she think of one. Tommy was right, what had she gotten herself into? What have I been doing? This isn't me! This isn't...supposed to be me! I'm not like this. Lacey moved away slowly from the Reimonds as she struggled with a crisis of identity. Carl merely looked on at the scene unfolding before him. Sandra, however, was just as conflicted as Lacey.

She was distressed. Why was her son acting like this? Why was he so upset? She and Eric had done everything for him, lifted themselves out of poverty, gave them all a better life. Why wasn't he happy with the state of the herd?

That was it, wasn't it? The herd. Tommy didn't understand. Didn't appreciate. A shocking thought entered her mind: would he ever understand? She felt ready to cry right then and there. Their little boy didn't care about anything close to their bovine hearts.

And she knew why.

He was human.

Most worryingly of all — for as long as she's been a hybrid — every day and in every way Sandra saw him less and less as her own kin.

She gripped her husband's arm, her gaze temporarily meeting his, an implicit look of support for her herd-leader over her former child. She belonged to the herd, and Tommy didn't. She would support her mate, her love, with all her heart, no matter how much it still hurt her to see her son opposed to them. She knew Eric felt the same way. They were both in pain.

They watched their son rant and rave about everything they'd ever done as hybrids to annoy, upset or piss him off. Every sentence drove a dagger into their hearts. Their ignorance, their promiscuity, their reckless abandonment of human norms. They had well and truly pushed their son away.

Would he ever be happy with them again?

After an tense pause, Eric responded: “I never...mooh...I realise...I truly am sorry we made you so uncomfortable. We just...got carried away with things. First with our new selves, then with the fact we had real spending money for the first time in years, then..." he hesitated to say anything about their newfound concept of the herd. He reckoned it'd make things worse to alienate their son further.

“No. I'm not going to say sorry, I'm not going to make up with you. I'm fucking done! With all of you." There was no going back from this, he was burning his bridges, without knowing what to do once they smouldered away to ash. Tommy was far too angry to think straight.

“Son..."

“Don't you dare call me your son again!"

“Tommy..."

“No. Crying about it won't fix me. You don't think like people, you don't act like people, you aren't human anymore!"

“Don't say things like that," Eric now pleaded with his son to be reasonable, and give him and his mother another chance to make amends, “we're different, yes, but we're still your parents."

“We can't change back," Sandra said, “and we wouldn't want to even if we could." Tommy knew this, deep down, and hearing it spoke aloud only broke him further. His parents, his real mom and dad, were never coming back.

Eric stepped forward, standing in-between Sandra and Tommy. His remaining humanity desperately wanted to repair this damaged relationship, but...but there was something inside telling him otherwise. There was anger within him, anger at his son's disrespect. Some part of his psyche demanded he acknowledge this anger. Why did he need to make amends with this tantrum-throwing human?

“Fuck you."

That settles it then...he didn't have to take that kind of shit from him.

“Say that again to my face."

“Honey...Eric..." Sandra begged for sense but found none.

“Say it."

Another pause. Heavy with tension. Tommy fuming, Eric's ire increasing. Sandra concerned for both, but more so her mate. Lacey keeping her distance, not wanting to get involved with the family spat she'd contributed to. Carl observing, ready to try and intervene should things get out of hand...he hoped...

...

Fuck you dad.

...

Fuck you mom.

...

And fuck you too Ms. Cain.

...

“Tom—"

“FUCK YOU AND THE WHORE YOU TURNED MOM INTO!!"

“MOOOO!" a thunderous roar from Eric signalled his rage as he barrelled forward. Tommy meekly stumbled backwards as the monster twice his height raised its arm in anger. Eric would not let this scrawny little shit-stain of a human disrespect him or his herd! That boy didn't deserve to call him his father anymore!

The back of his hand connected with his son's head. It was instantaneous.

Tommy blacked out.