Screaming as I drove, the truck a hulk of loose bolts and bald tires, what most anybody would cal a piece of junk, this is what I had to depend upon to get from the village to the work site. Nobody can imagine the sense of dread from coming face to face with a woman as powerful as Madame Ojo.

Scared, heart pounding the poisonous dust sifted onto, and covering my male organs continued to burn in my crotch. Mixed up in the head, having seen my boss and friend changed of species, and then once he stood of a while being wholly like he was born an animal; a horse and a stallion, he acted as if it where the best thing that ever happened to him.

That scared me, because I had plans for my future and being a bull and finding cow rumps as a thrill was not in those plans. I came down to this miserable backward country to get top money working and building a pipeline. It would be a sorry state of affairs if the darn truck failed and the company never changed their routing, because Madame would most assuredly have me feeling foolish every day of my life, if it happened that way.

Bounced hard, the truck went airborne, and slamming down, it flew off into the jungle, hitting a massive old tree. My worst worries suddenly became reality. I needed no map to know I was stuck there in the jungle and had still thirty sum miles to go before getting to where I could use a phone and call for help.

In the jungle, thirty miles from being nowhere good and the fire in my crotch getting hotter the more I sweat and the more I have to worry thinking about. Walking that road, I use the word road about it as it carried vehicles but was mostly overgrown with weeds, grass, and bushes. It was a general trail to follow, and so I began to walk it.

South America, the closeness to the equator makes the sun extra direct, intense, even walking under the umbrella of greenery growing above. The humidity, insects, and the jungle itself had enough in it to make it a deadly place to be, let alone having to walk in it for miles. All this was bad, but what adds to the sense of danger is the sensation there in my pants.

Walking, jogging, the miles were fewer but the sun was beginning to set in the west, soon to duck down behind the western mountains and leave me in utter blackness. Seeing this happening the tension only made the sensations boiling in my groin to fire up. Finally as the sun slipped behind the mountain peaks I tripped, falling headlong to the hard ground.

Dazed, I sat up, waited until I felt able to try and get up to a standing position, only to discover the reason I had tripped was not due to the lousy trail, but my leg and feet had felt the building curse burning in me. A struggle to stand up, I fell back to the ground three times before feeling of the thighs and legs to discover they were in a fit of change.

So hot a place to work and yet we all wear blue jeans, mine were at the thigh about tight enough to soon split at the seams. Contour of what were my thighs had changed, broadening width, as narrow girth, making the groin a deep cavern. The forth try to stand before the jungle went black dark met with a ripping sound as the seam burst, and my pants fell to the ground useless.

Oh was I sick, if I had anything in my stomach it would have come up and out, I dry heaved several times, so scared by seeing not my human legs, but bovine thighs, leg, hocks not heels, and narrowed feet with the beginning of cloven hoofs replacing human toes. Screaming to the black heavens, cursing the woman named Ojo, the rage and what infected me burst the growth levels. Anger, distraught hatred of that woman for what she did to Dan and made him like it, as what she did to me, was so unjust!

Reeling like someone so mad they could bust open and die, I staggered along on legs and hoofs, my body racked with change. Then when so angry and feeling like might a bull at rut, there in the dark, ahead of me were two small lights bobbing along the jungle trail.

Elated at seeing other life-forms there and coming toward me, I began to yell, hollering at the top of my lungs. Not once during the elated few minutes did I think about what other ways I might have changed. The lights coming were on a horse drawn cart. As it approached they on it heard my whaling cries, the cart stopped it movement, and they on it braced for an attack. Coming closer, and then trying to use the sum of my Brazilian lingo to communicate my problem, Imagine their and my surprise as a partially bovine man-monster stood asking for help from two infected residents belonging to the Leprosy colony.

Thrill, heat, exhaustion and the lack of any drinking water for more than five hours, it all came together, as feeling dizzy, I fainted.

Cool refreshing water tainted to my lips and quenched a dry mouth. My eye opened to see looking down at me the deformed faced and selves of the two Lepers. They scared me, not wishing to get a horrible disease like inflicted them, I tried to get up and away from them.

"English," the man said, speaking with a very British sounding, rather more Irish manner of speech.

Wishing to reply properly, but what issued out my mouth was something closer to a grunted "Ugg."

The two people talked together in their more local dialect, then the man there spoke, "Met Madame did we, you with the pipeline men?" He asking, and she continued looking at me and then to him, she as nervous about our meeting as was I.

Again wishing to be in the affirmative mode, but what I said still sounded like a dull "Ugg."

He smiled, a smile of someone knowing of pain and other people in pain, he wanted me to calm down and what was infecting me would calm with it too!

"Men came to the colony today, met with the elders there, they agreed to the pipeline coming through their lands, bypassing the colony, but warned about Madame and her voodoo village, they signed a contract, changing the route. Sorry though about you, you having met Madame must have angered her, she did this to you." The man said, he bearing news that the trip by Dan to meet Madame Ojo was all a waste of time and for Dan an eternity of bestial living.

She gave my dry thick lips another slow drink of the refreshing water. I tried to again show my thanks and say a thank you. The words never came out then the way i thought they should, but from changed lips, a thicker tongue, and a mouth mostly not human, came a bellowing muddled mooing sound.

"Moo-rau...oooo," I remember then saying, as the change raking my groin and legs had surged upward, dehumanizing me from the waist up.

"Bull or Ox," the man then asked of me, an obvious thing to ask then, as what lay with its head cradled in the lap of his wife looked more like a Greek Minotaur in central Brazil.

Wishing to be polite and answer the man, but fearing my hearing that voice and the mooing sound coming from it, I with changing hands scratched into the trail the letter "B" as meaning I was to become a bull.

The man sighed, a sad sound and saddening more to the one lying there and beginning to realize by week end he might be sniffing cow butts and mounting, trying to learn how to hump cows to stay alive.

"We can help you, you come with us, ride in the cart, come to the colony!" The man said, his offer was one of friendly act, but done by a person with a dreaded disease.

Shaking of my head to say a definite confirming "No," the man smiled again, showing me his hands and arms, they infected and deformed. "You are becoming a bull, cattle do not get Leprosy, you can live with us, maybe we ask Madame to change you back to the real you." The man said, he willing to help a man like himself, somebody infected and beyond all medical help.

Reluctantly, I agreed, and sitting in the rear of their cart, bovine legs hanging down, cloven hooves marking a trail in the roadway, we went a different way. Hours of sitting calm and quiet in the dark, feeling the cart rock over and along the bumpy trail, the tension of the day made it easy for sleep and a mind to give in to the inevitable. It was near morning when the cart jolted to a stop and I in the back of it awoke, groggy, did stand up and out from the cart, yawned and mooed loudly.

Surprised and as much stunned by my mooed response, the man followed by his wife walked around the cart to greet and talk about what they thought would work for me being as a part of their colony.

Walking with a striding waddle, upright human gaited walking is not so easy when having bovine hind like legs to walk upon. Not an easy thing the feeling of wanting to let go, of falling forward and finding it easier then to walk about on all fours, being, looking, and acting so much like I were a bovine bull.

As I stood hanging onto a tree truck the man went into a hut and there spoke with one of the colony elders. Early morning hours but the commotion made by me and others was enough to awaken many people, gawking at me, they talked with each the other, pointing, but one of them coming and with his bony hands he did lift, fondle, and speak about the size of my then bullish testicles.

Embarrassed as a man but unable to show the reddening face and or ears because of fur growth having by then coated my entire head, neck, chest, back, and body in a furred skin turned to a tougher, thicker hide.

Exiting the hut walked out first the man and then his wife, along with another man, he quite fat, but just as infected.

"English, yes in English, sir you are welcome to live with us here. Mansard will show you where to rest and give you some duties we know you can handle still. He has volunteered to seek Madame Ojo and request her to change you back to being partially human." The elderly elder man so said, his words meaning I had a place to stay and friends in a cruel time of my so changed life.

Everything became so different, my bodily form had changed, I was bovine, very much as to being a bull and I began to do things, as would an ignorant and uncaring animal. Body language became that of an animal primarily, but as well with very bullish lack of manners. Common to all animals is the basic disconcert of where they empty the bladder or void the bowels.

Mansard walked his bullish new friend to where he said he, it should remain for some time, and waiting until the spellbinding did what it Madame forged it to do. The thought of it finishing the changing did not bother anymore, as with having friends, and they, he, Mansard said he would go to visit Madame and win some freedom from the spell.

It seemed easy and as one day moved along to the next, what was expected became more of a daily ritual. Mansard did not return with news and not thinking about it, the want and thought of it tends to vanish into the doings of the day. All went well with what they there asked and sent this their bullish friend off to do. As with not saying bluntly now as before, now and since then the spell has weakened for some reason, allowing change. Changes that returned the ability to speak and remember more of learned schooling.

There was a time, a rather long duration when the spell and its host became so much like a bull, he failed to realize just how beastly he was becoming. Grazing is a near mindless action, and worse is the chewing of cud, regurgitating the chewed and swallowed grasses, like eating your own puke. So dull becomes the mind and wits, that given the acts of being wholly animalistic, the thought of being human just slips away into some dark oblivion.

Standing mounted and humped over the backside of a big old cow, the men tending the herd were watching, they laughing at the awkward way it is to try to mate when doing it as do cows. The lack of thinking what felt needed to do was anything but humorous in the mind of a man changed into being a bull. Enraged, the anger helped the mind to focus, and thinking about what became the beastly situation, felt revolting. The mating ceased then and given days of continued refusal to do as expected a bull should, first the elder came and then at last, Mansard arrived to try talking or convincing the lifestyle of a bull was the better way to live.

Slowly, over difficult weeks and then a month more of restraint from messing with horny cows, the wits and full reasoning abilities began returning. It felt nice to sit and think about what is of life, and how one lives it. More too, the body has changed, leaving the reforming of what was human to stop at resemblance of being a not so muscular a Minotaur.

At ease with self now, the plans for what might have been a nice future are not possible. Yet the sniffing and licking at cow rumps for the scent of a cow or heifer feeling the urge to mate is not what seems an involuntary urge either. True enough, the legs and feet are those of a strong bull animal. The body has little need for clothing, as skin, the black hide still coated with fur, and the tail is there to keep bugs from crawling around a puckered anus.

Write letters now, wrote one to mom, it has been more than a years since speaking to her, the time spent being a bull was enough to break the bonds between us. There was no way of telling her what actually happened, not that she would believe it. Dad has died, mom wrote it was from a broken heart, it was he who suggested and sent his son to apply at and hired by the pipeline company. Inform them in a letter, said this was the place for their son to live, and without asking them to agree, left it as out of the question of ever returning.

Imagine then, if wanting to return, Minotaur types do not get to ride the airplane, cannot take a train, or could, if allowed the privacy of shipped homeward in stock handling car. Then what at home could you do when being like this, they would talk about you, not likely being like this one could go to church come Sunday! It is silly, as from what became all too real, and what happened to Dan, he Madame sold, and has made quite the life for himself, he a Appaloosa stallion. I suspect the reason for being like this breed of bull Minotaur and why Dan became as an Appaloosa horse and not something from down here, is due to our own human heritage. Born in Arizona, Dan owned horses, had an Appaloosa mare, his final form and coloring were very much similar to what his mare had the same coloration.

This body comes from family heritage, living in the Midwest, all around where we called home the farms had large herds of Black Angus cattle, so its makes some sense that if Madame spellbound a man to be a bull, then he would be a bull he was use to seeing.

Anyway, that is the story of us who worked for the pipeline, and of those who came to Brazil and cannot ever return home. Dan makes a good stud horse; he likes horses and became a fine stallion. Some others went to talk with Madame, she head how the colony received payment for their land use and not her, and she became angry. Anger a voodoo witch and anybody she meets that has anything to do with whom she dislikes, and they too end up serving her in strange ways.

Well, as a suggestion, it would be suicide to travel up the jungle mountain road and ask to meet, talk with, and or visit Madame Ojo. Foolish is any thought then to expect any ability of returning home still human. More than likely, like for you as had for so many others, Madame would insist you stay, remaining there in the village or the fields, certainly not being as anything human!