Mid-life crisis
by
Vaulthurst

"Never invest more than you are prepared to lose!" A worthwhile phrase told to me by a wise and good man some thirty plus years ago. I had listened to him often reminding me that financial planning was only part of life, one needed to look forward to those years to come, when the body would weaken. My friend being of that age when with him going to physical therapy three times per week, looking excellent his bodily build.

Sadly, he died at the age of 84; his mighty words of good judgment are a thing of the past. As what remains of that friendship in one grown man at the age of fifty-six, who stands looking every morning into a big bathroom mirror seeing his tummy roll as building. Retired by decree of management, he tends to sit all day in front of a computer screen, buying and selling, making my money trading stocks, buy low and sell when high.

Something very special began with the sale of his owned railroad stock. Timing is a thing of buying and selling anything in a market! He set on the sidelines and watched as two mighty railroads begin their bidding against the other for buying up all the rail company stock selling on the stock market.

The previous purchased sum of 90,000 shares of that railroad stock sold those for a total sale of $11,461,500; making another average man into a millionaire, almost overnight.

Being so wealthy, anyone might think that this was a wonderful thing, until friends turned ugly. One ole' friend tried to turn my name in to the stock exchange's investigation department for a possible security fraud! I ended up spending more than a million dollars of my gain fending off suits placed by friends, who thought, they deserved some of that quick gotten gain.

After five years of legal problems, am richer than any wildest dream and flabby around the middle. The warning of that special friend to prepare for such a time was on my mind. I thought about the idea of maybe joining a health club was now a good thing for me.

It was a good thought but just were could I go, certainly not locally as so many people would plague me for loans, investments or just wanting for me to give them my money. Looking then for a health club what tends to wealthy plump people, and seeing an advertisement, then for one such named "J.D. THOMAS HEALTH CLUB & SPA"

It seemed as perfect this health club, beginning with an entrance fee made for the rich, and to keep away those who wished to be rich. A phone call made an appointment to check out the facility. A short plane flight and upon arrival a limonene came to do the shuttle, giving a tour of the town before driving to the club itself.

Upon arrival to the club entrance, a young woman stood there waiting, she by the name of Carrie took me on a club facility tour. The gym was second to none as was the sauna, spa, massage parlor, barbershop, and the outside running track. Imagine what to my surprise the western spa had as for entertainment an arena built special to house a rodeo!

Carrie informed me that Mr. J.D. Thomas had a personal interest in rodeo and had built his business by selected marketing. She told me that unless I had any thought or idea about entering into rodeo as for business or pleasure, to keep clear of those who did. I imagined she meant that they were a rough and tough lot, and some might be rather aggressive.

When she returned us to the front office, there waiting was a form to sign and a desk clerk anxiously awaiting a down payment check for the first six-month plan, costing a cool $200,000. The amount I would learn was but to begin treatments, as with other programs, cost then additional money.

With an elderly club porter carrying the luggage, he escorted me to my lavish room. An hour of time to be settled and there was a knock at my door. A huge man of 6'8" stood filling up the doorway, he announced he was to be my personal trainer.

Arthur was his name but he asked me in a nice way to call him just Art. I quickly agreed as he was a good foot and a half taller than this puny me. A massive man looking like something out of a wrestling ring, yet his voice was soft and manners made me comfortable.

He gave me a bright orange exercise suit that I should wear daily. It looked rather neat and hid much of what I wanted to lose. Dressed to enter the club proper, my giant at my side we went off to the gym. Warming up exercises Art said for me to get the blood moving and my heart pumping, as Art took several checks as to my blood pressure, appeared as satisfied with how I was accustomed to work.

I came there in early afternoon and by five p.m., this pudgy old man was dead tired!

A hot sauna felt great, the jump into a cold pool and three laps up and down had me feeling better. A massage calmed aching muscles or all except for one, as the person doing the rub down was one sexy dame'! Wow, but did she tend to make a man feel aroused by how she wore a scanty, as tight swimsuit, she had monster jugs and slender hips she was worth the trip.

Art met me outside as I pointed a thumb back at Mona as if to say a, wow! He smiled, and informed me she was not worth my time. My fantasy bubble burst when Art said that she was originally a he and had had a sex change some years back. That news surprised me, and with a gawked look back at Mona, she by then working on another elderly man, I made mention to Art, whoever was the doctor did one hell of a good job.

Later, as very tired, I flopped on my bed and was ready for a nap. I was about to drift off when the phone by my bed chimed, not rang, but chimed. Picking up the receiver a pretty voice announced dinner as served in the main lounge.

I thought to be properly dressed for dinner in a good suit and black tie. I exited the room and began the long walk to the restaurant, seeing then all the other patients, it became apparent my attire was not correct. I returned to my room and donned on that baggy orange sweat suit, only to see then in the dinning rooms were people dressed in white, black, and orange suits. The wish for a meat and potato supper was in harsh reality a large bowl of salad, well peppered, but served without any salad dressings.

A hungry man will eat about anything, and when finished that bowl was empty but the patient felt less than satisfied. When excused in groups to return to our rooms, I quickly return to the room planning to lie down and sleep. When I opened the door to my room, there hung on a hanger were ten orange suits, all clean and ready to wear.

I sighed at the sight but feeling tired got ready for bed, brushed the pepper corns stuck in my gums and between teeth. I was not in bed ten minutes and feeling relaxed when the door buzzer buzzed me awake. Getting up again I wondered what then, opening the door I saw there, Art, he with a pushcart, stood with a smile, and pushed at me a large milkshake. He said it was a bedtime treat to help the patients sleep; a glucose buzz would ease my muscular pain.

Tired, weary, my gut grumbling from the coarse salad, I did accept the milkshake adding a courteous thank you before closing my room door and begin slurping down some real food. It tasted very vanilla with real malt, as in the thick liquid I noted tiny pearls of what at the time thought they were tapioca.

The milkshake downed, I returned to lying in bed and was as Art said, aided to sleep. I slept soundly, but began to dream dreams like nothing I ever remember having had in my past years. Twice I awoke with a shuddering stunned feeling, having dreamt, and remembering it, the dream of me with Mona going at it as if we were newly weds. If that were not a strange dream, my waking to feeling highly aroused and having a stiff erection offered more to feeling unsettled.

As I said I awoke a second time, and again with a blazing erection, remembering a scene of me at the rodeo, as gawking, staring at the filth covered rump of a big cow.

When the bedside phone chimed to awake me for morning, I sat up and answering the phone, the operator told of breakfast as then served in the dinning hall.

Rising to stand as I stood up felt then, noted the still having a blazing stiff an erection. I showered and was getting dressed in my orange suit but the erection remained as if at the ready to go status. My walk to the dinning hall felt uncomfortable and rather embarrassing, as the front of my orange sweat suit looked tented because of my erection.

When I arrived to the dinning hall and stood in line waiting for the head-steward to seat me at a table, I noted that other men wearing orange colored suits like mine had each a tenting problem. What seemed as really odd to me, was of seeing women dressed in orange suits, as they stood conversing, some were massaging their groins and others doing fingering tweaking of breast nipples, all wearing orange suits seemed as aroused.

Ah breakfast, I could smell real food cooking and was ready to gorge my stomach.

Oops, not so as my hope for a big breakfast came to me as a large bowl of fruit and another vanilla milkshake. As I picked at the fruit in the bowl and munched, I noted the people dressed in black suits sat eating big porterhouse steaks, large omelets, as were the patients wearing white ate pancakes, with bacon, as all served then a big bran muffin, but no butter.

Then as we ate, the patients given enough to feel full, a tall as very thin man walked to the center of the room.

"Good morning all! I as some of you know am J.D. Thomas the owner and manager of this Spa. Now as each of you work off those extra pounds the color of your exercise suit will be change. It is when you reach the white suit and physically fit as we can make you, your stay here shall terminate. I suspect for some of you,” he looking all around him, “The process of making you healthy may take longer than the six month plan stay here, and for that case scenario, those patients we offer a special arrangement.

Now though, I want you all to do your best at each workout and if at some time during your stay that the flab is not becoming sturdy muscle fast enough, please contact or house doctor." said the Man as he clicked of his microphone and summarily walked out of the room.

Then the regular patterns began in earnest, a short workout before breakfast. A meal of fruit for the orange patients, a milkshake, one of four each day giving a boost of energy and continued wild dreams.

Week 2, a Tuesday and Art met me at my door, we went to the gym for a harsh workout until noon. As by then I was hot and smelling sweaty, Art accompanying me to the luncheon, another bowel of fruit, a salad, no dressings, and my milkshake, the flavoring then changed to a rich dark chocolate. Feeling full and somewhat relieved it was one o'clock and Art with a smile and motioning to come.

Weight lifting, running around the gym, blood pressure checks, and off to the pool for a swim. At last, when for me the day was done, I struggled to stagger back to my room. Once inside the room, I just flopped out on the bed. I went lights-out soundly asleep. As again the weird sexually arousing dreams occurred, taunting my brain.

“Hey time for dinner, wake up, wake up,” said Art, he there in my room stood by the bed nudging me to wake up. He said, he had worried he overworked me that afternoon, my not coming to suppertime feeding. I got up, stood there feeling groggy, knowing that lagging feeling of having a blazing erection an ongoing problem was there too!

As Art walked me down the hallway toward the dinning hall, he guided me to turn right and entered there the office of Mr. J.D. Thomas. When I stood there before the man seated at his large desk, I felt like a truant student standing before the high school principle. Tersely, the man glaring at me gave me my first as last warning never to be late for a meal served.

It was one short as quick meeting, and dismissed with such tone I was insulted, ready then to quit and leave the spa.

Art looked all down in the mouth; he too received a verbal reprimanding because of me. He said as he walked me to the dinning hall to enjoy my meal, as due to my lateness, the manager wished me placed into a new group, especially for those of the hard cases.
Art said reasons never mattered as to why a patient was late, but that Mr. Thomas gave each a first firm warning!

When back to my room, the first I saw there was another milkshake, this one as bigger than were all the others. As I undressed and sat sipping the dark chocolate shake, I looked over at the door, as there hung not orange suits, but dark purple colored suits for me to wear.

The new group and my daily grind was fast getting me tired of eating the same ole' thing.

Same as same the days went by as I felt much-more fit and the flabby middle was stiffening up like the better old days. Not as tired like those people around me, they acting quite unfriendly, with seeing them as offered a good morning by me; they would at their best, just grunt to let me know I was not alone. Art though, talked with me often as he asked me so many questions about my life.

The fact of my being divorced and living alone, my wealth was only lightly touched on, as those patients there were all wealthy. As what were my plans for the future, Art asking, and I did not know, just that I wished to be as feel healthier. The same question reoccurred several times more when Art spoke with me. I at times made mention of my weird dreams and of the owned rodeo there coming into my dreams making me wake with an erection. I tried to ask Art various questions about the rodeo, only to hear silence or a quick sidestep to another subject.

On evening as we the Purple suits sat at our table, a rather plump woman named Martha did not come to dinner. I wondered if she like me had overslept and was meeting then Mr. Thomas, if she were in trouble. My asking about Martha returned me scowls, and Art told me later she requested to return home.

I accepted what Art said, or did until hearing harsh said words in the dormitory hallway, I opened my door to see the porter totting the luggage as belonging to Martha. He was having much trouble hauling it along the hallway and I wondered, if she had left that day why then was her luggage leaving so much later. I followed the porter, and watched as he opened a door leading to the dormitory basement, and one by one, he literally threw the pieces of luggage down the stair step and into the basement.

Then the porter went down the stairs to the basement level, and I playing interested spy, followed the man. He collected the luggage unto a cart and walked the length of the basement level to entering a large steel door. I snuck along behind him, after he went inside, taking with him the luggage. I stood by the door, opening it slightly so I could see inside the next room, stood there in awe watching the porter as he tossed each luggage piece into a roaring blazing fiery furnace. He did open and sorted through the smaller jewelry case, as pocketing much of its contents into his pockets before tossing the case into the furnace.

Seeing the porter with his work done, he turned to leave and I slipped the door shut and ran back to the stairs leading to the dormitory level. As I opened the door to the lighted hallway, who should I meet standing there than none-the-less, Mister J.D. Thomas and two security guards.

They surrounded me and we walked me to my room. As I entered my room, Mr. Thomas said that Martha was deceased, as for her, her life ended that afternoon. He said she had no next of kin listed on her application, therefore, he ordered her clothes destroyed. He warned me that this was my second offence and to beware of my future actions.

As the door to my room closed, I sat in a chair shaking from what trouble I got myself into, as just then there I heard a knock to my door. I opened it expecting to see Art or maybe the security guard come to arrest me for god knows what? Instead, there before me was a short pudgy man in a white lab coat and a small black bag.

I was greeted by Doctor Frank Delos he being the in-house doctor and associate to Mr. Thomas. He walked past me into my room and asked me to sit in a chair. Then opening his small black bag he began to take my blood pressure, my temperature, and checked my reactions. As I watched the doctor work on me, there were questions on my mind but as scared as I was, the thought of administrative reprisal, held me for asking about anything.

Finally, he spoke as said, "Now then sir, I have come at the request of Mr. Thomas, and he requisitioned me to administer the first of thirty muscle enhancing hormone injections. During the course of these injections, it will be quite normal to expect some cramps and an occasional ache or pain in and around the stomach. If the discomfort seems too great please let me know, and we will do it by drip method during your time asleep."

That said, the doctor grabbed my right arm and slammed home the syringe, he shot me with his stuff, tossed the spent syringe into his satchel bag, and strutting like a Peacock, he walked out of my room.

I remember the burning sensation. As I sat there in that chair with then a sore arm, I gave the injection spot a massaging rub.

A night or dreams more, and awaking to hearing a firm knocking to my door, had me leap out of bed, grab my purple suit, struggling to get it zipped past my usual erect overly functional an aroused erection. Scrambling to get ready, the new aches slowed me to where the person knocking at the door, used a passkey to gain entrance to my room.

As the door opened, I had a gruff greeting from not Art, but as a replacement trainer, there stood a burly looking man, he I had seen on some rare occasions.

No name did he offer, he just grunted to me motioning I hurry, his shirt had a tag on it as simply stated, “Trainer.”

He continued to motion at me to come along, I wondered what of the previous day worth of troubles would level at me then? Yet nothing much could I do but go with the man, as I was not bold enough to try to leave, if by daring I got luckily past the security men roaming the spa and associated grounds.

We went to the gym where he aggressively worked me until noon. I expected to go to lunch, as was surprised when a lounge waiter came to the gym and delivered me my personal milkshake. I drank the thick shake, as would a starving man, only to finish it and have the burly fellow order me to begin more exercise than before. He ordered me about to work on various machines, as I felt no usual sense of tiring.

It was then he ordered me to try to run my legs off on the outside track. The running track followed the spa property boundaries. I jogged at first but increased my pace, feeling no pain, as I went running with wondrous ease, giving me my first real look around the property.

It was from that long run around what alerted me to possible troubles ahead.

I was half way around my second lap of the spa when I noticed the pudgy Doc walking toward a building tucked nearer the rodeo ring than as part of the spa. I had a thought to follow the doctor so I jumped off the running track, and dashed over the open lawn to the very door where our dear doctor had entered. As I peered inside and heard voices, I entered and began to sneak along one wall until I came to where the doctor and some other men were talking, or arguing.

Doc was standing over an exam table made for animals of fair size. He stood there bent over some cloth-draped animal, while conversing with the men there; he would turn and repeat his words to the animal as he worked. I watched seeing as the hind feet moved and wiggled as the doc talked. This seemed strange but I soon would learn the reason, I watched, seeing the doctor pat the animal in a kindly manner before he turned as if to leave the building.

That then seemed my best chance at working my way around the mass of cabinets to where I came to seeing the animal covered and strapped to the large table.

I recognized then Martha, she the overly fat woman who Mr. Thomas stated she was deceased of her lifetime. Seeing her and she looking up, she recognized me, began to fuss, trying in her limited means to tell me to get the heck away from there!

Seeing her, she was not dead, but placed through some horrid life-changing experiment, laid there naked on that exam table. Her eyes went wide with want as she saw me come over, and look at her in that personally exposed position.

I thought to touch her and offer a consoling word but just what can one say to comfort a woman well along on her path to becoming as is real cow?

Struggling at her bindings, she motioned at me with what were fore legs ending with cloven hooves. Her hind legs she could move more so, they being as much bovine as were her feet and there too she had cloven hooves. Her medium brown hair someone shorn off her head, as in place of it grew then brown fur, like that on a cow. Her hind leg movements entangled the cloth covering her and making it slip away, leaving her changed form in clear view.

She was mostly as changed into a cow, her body cloaked with brown fur, some white markings on her chest, and a very pink colored udder tucked flatly up high in her groin. She strained at her binding straps, but they were stronger than her bovine new strength. The poor woman/cow laid there having such a muscular chest bulging, replacing her breasts, she looked quite uncomfortable.

Her face was partially human, though thick lips and her nose grown to merge with her upper lip made speaking a muddled mess of slurred words, all very unintelligible to me. She would moan as if wishing to convey she wanted something known to me, but for the life of me how she said what she said meant nothing intelligence.

Poor Martha saw my lack of understanding her and it seemed to anger her, as then she tried mooing loudly.

I did feel very sorry for her strange predicament, it as something wildly miraculous what science and men twisted ideals can do to people. My talking with her and she as getting so upset, made me wish even more I should flee that horrid place.

Sadly, I left her to her miseries, walking away, I stopped to look at those file cabinets and one of them unlocked as opened offered a tweaking of my inquisitive nature. Pawing then through the numbers of files and names on those files, I just grabbed one and opening it, laid it open on top of one file cabinet.

I began to read the account of a man named Eric. He had applied and entered the spa on March 26, 1991. He was there for two months doing the common physical workouts before offered the use of the Reformation Process Serum. He signed an authorization for and was the next day injected with the first, of twenty more injections, that situation sounded to me quite familiar!

I read on to where Eric after his ninth injection the doctor felt Eric required sedation until the Reformation Processing completed his transition. Following that was a long list of varying serum injection, as the total numbers of CC units the doctor revised and increased weekly.

Several pages of detailed descriptions as about what happened to Eric as his processing continued, his body growing until when awakened two months and three weeks from the first inoculation, the Doc allowed Eric to wake. A short notation as of what a surprised Eric discovered he had moved backward and then forward through varied levels of evolution until the Reformation processing did it miracle.

As notated, “Today subject Eric awoke, realizing the drastic changes, he stood up, taking account to what and of how his body had so changed. He seeing me, I smiled as greeted him warmly, informing him he had transitioned of species, being then a 1200 pounds, as 15 hands high, Morgan breed of equine horse, and a stallion, with plans as soon sold to a breeding farm near Lexington, KY.”

"Wow,” I stood there and muttering said, “That guy they physically changed into being a horse, a stallion and planned to sell him as for a breeding stud. Imagine that, he sold like any normal animal to living his life in bestial servitude, O.M.G.!"

I sighed and heard something, as looking up from what I was reading, that was when my day got much worse!

As I looked up and saw the smiling face of Mr. J.D. Thomas, we accompanied by his two massively muscular security guards, they then grabbed my arms. Forced then of me to remain standing there, while a proud man of great means told of his master plan for, me.

”People,” he said, “The wealthier people, those not in the daily limelight,” he stated, “A perfect virtual nobody who had neither friend nor relative that would give a care, as if said person was alive or dead.” He told of his making affective use of such worthless embodiments. Most of those chosen were not willing of becoming the focus subject in a scientific experiment. Rarer were the few who thought such as a wonderful chance at breaking away from the commonplace daily lifestyle doldrums.

Whether those of the chosen liked their different futures and forms, it did not matter, as they began to change, they would feel willing to consign away all their worldly wealth for some bettering of creature comforts.

As of Miss Martha lying and struggling on the surgical table, she was one who after being explained her choice of becoming a sideshow freak, she being as part cow and part human, she agreed to do the consignment of her wealth to the Spa.

Martha hearing this rendition of her demeaning, she bellowed a few loud moos.

Mr. Thomas turned to look at Martha and then smiled, said then, “So gullible they all are, as after giving away all their wealth, what reason is there to turn them loose to run away. Their bodies would continue to change anyway! Martha was sure or expected her release, but no…, that was not in the cards for her. Releasing her as what she was by then made her an excellent witness to my virtual gold mine. I harbor no half-changed, as once fully changed, they regain prominence though acting bestial, animals mate, and so shall Martha when she feels her bovine estrus.

You listening Miss Martha, know then you are on your merry way to becoming a fine Shorthorn beef cow. She shall endeavor living her life as would a cow, dropping several calves before then sold and sent to reside as just another bovine living her life at a cattle feedlot, gaining mass until sold to a slaughterhouse.

That said, Mr. Thomas looked at me with his sly mannered grin, as said, “You and your continued intrusions makes a good candidate for the Doctor to use the Reformation Serums.

I shall personally oversee the coming change process, and once the final change completed, he would make up his mind as of what I should be as best.”

They took me to a cell with smooth steel walls were if I were to scream and convulse due to the injections, not a sole would hear me. Two weeks, he said, as my body would conform quickly, changing as muscles cramped, strengthened, becoming animal sinew, toughened of bone, muscle and skin. He remarked of how skillful Art had worked with training me, as I was strong and hardy already my form. A good beginning to what was the bigger plans expanding me into something other than human.

The man left me to my feelings of woe. I lay back on my cell cot and stared up at the ceiling, all the while thinking of somehow to escape this prison in hell. As with each injection arrived, new agonies and cramps, pains, and a headache like nothing I would dare wish someone else to experience. It was know wonder that those laid out and changing on the exam/surgical table, they did sign away all to be free of such agony.

My skin hue grew darker, as changed, becoming tough black animal hide. A layer of soft and silky hairs began to spout and spread, beginning around my navel, encompassing soon my entire body.

I laid there for many a night sweaty and horny, a sense of passion, my maleness in full erection, as with stiffening fingers I did masturbate. Spurts came first, as with more ejaculating session the semen squirted in streams of white, shooting high in the air, until one wild night the testicle pressure reached and stuck to my cell ceiling.

My maleness was getting both longer and larger. I had grown a belly-mounted sheath made of thick hide covered with soft black fur. As from inside my sheath would protrude a short, flat ended portion of my newer penis. As I would stroke it, masturbating, becoming wild for feeling the sensations, it grew, growing, extending to stick out the sheath nearly two feet its length.

David, my jailor and keeper, would stand by my cell door and watch, he mesmerized and delighted, licking his lips as if what he stared at he wished to enter my cell and begin to suckle. At the first when I saw him standing there the thought of what he liked to watch troubled me. As my sense of passion and lust turned bestial of want, my seeing him there, I would motion for him to enter and accept from me his big thrill.

My body black of hide and fur, as my penis protruded out the sheath was a pretty-pink color, highly sensual, a delight for Dave and me as well.

Dave was suckling on me one evening late, nobody around; he looked up at me and said, “You know it, as what Mr. Thomas plans for you?”

Unable to speak then for the same similar reasons Martha could not speak, I slowly shook my heavy head.

“You are as for mating with Martha, putting her over the edge, pushing her to accept living bestially, she a cow and you, being a Black Angus bull. The Doctor is limited at making of Angus breed bulls, and those so changed; they keep them available for breeding with cows and as leased bulls to rodeo breeders.

What you become is not all so bad a lifestyle for a real male, breeding with cows is almost as good as having a hundred wild whores to be your toys. You have a lovely long penis, and big balls, as big as are yams.”

Such big balls, my bovine testicles, they had swelled of size and levels of production, spewing cups of semen, it roars out the open end of that grown cock to splatter the cell walls. I was beginning to think less about remaining a man, and more like my wild dreams of how best to mount a cow, hold her, and insert that sensual shaft.

The morning of my ninth week in beastly solitude brought a chance. As I received my newest injection and requested I agree to consign the doctor my total wealth, he left me alone to masturbate in relative privacy, me lying on his exam table.

To make a long story short, I bolted out the door and headed over the open grass to jump the chain link fence, doing so on the far back acres of the Spa property. I ran as enjoying the strength of changed legs, which would, if remaining there and in time propel me across the open fields, they did the trick and I escaped.

I would say it took me the better part of a month to walk and run where I had my home. During that time away and living the life of a bestial male, I had to eat and found the growing desire to graze openly among cattle. I was a sight to see, as then part man and part animal in some sort of transitional phase. By night, I would run toward home, my memories joggled, unsure to what directions was east-west-north-or south.

During any daytime hours, I might stir awake and realize where I stood grazing. The more I ate like a bovine, the more I became a bovine, and felt the urges known to bulls.

At last, when I jumped and cleared the six-foot high fence surrounding my estate with ease, I expected to see Rodger, he was my butler, but he and all the staff were gone.

I remembered and found the extra house key kept nearby the backdoor, it put inside one faked casting in latex of what looked perfectly like heap of dog crap. Once inside the house it was time to clean up and a shower felt so very good. I stayed inside until dark, as each new day and night brought continued conforming of my body to being, ultimately as a black bull. It was into the second week of residing at where I had grown up, when the limonene arrived with the Doctor and Mr. Thomas.

Mister Thomas stood out front my stately home and called to me, asking me to return to the spa. He sent inside my house one of his massive security guards, the man offered me if I would return to the Spa property, Mr. Thomas was willing to grant me many betterments, as if I relented and accepted the offer.

I at first said no, but as the changes continued to kowtow the real me to thinking more about cows than of women, I felt it as time to agree and go do and live as my owners wished.

Fourteen months since the first injection, I became a willing subject in a process making it easier for other to join me in my bestial lifestyle. I cannot talk, but can write, answering questions posed, helping to tempt young or new friends to come and find an easier way of life.

The quick riches were never to be mine, and those who were friends care little if I lived or died. I will sire many offspring, tickled with each conquest, working the summer months and relaxing in a barn stall all through the cold of winter. Strange is my attitude, stranger still my delights for filthy cow rumps rather than the soft caress of a sweeter smelling woman. This is where science shall take some of us, contorting evolution, making animals from human beings, bringing joy to some and horrors to others, that is the nature of life!