A Tail Of Change free porn video

Author's note: This story is not completed. I'd love to hear comments about where it should go from here. Thanks, and enjoy! As I stood on my back porch, pulling out my pack of cigarettes, I thought back on the past few weeks, and the sequence of events that led to my current state of affairs. I pulled the Camel 99 out the pack - my third so far this week - and lit it. I felt my chest heave as I pulled in my first drag, feeling the rush of the nicotine wash over me. The movement of my chest was undeniable, even beneath the baggy bathrobe that was my only garment at the moment. My big bouncy breasts were simultaneously bothersome and worrisome, and yet, also, annoyingly small - at least to me. I couldn't shake the feeling that nagged at me night and day, telling me that they were too small, even though I knew they were getting bigger. I could still see my feet, encased in strappy purple wedge sandals, past the jutting breasts, and it bothered me that my tits weren't big enough to block my view of them. It bothered me that my nipples weren't over an inch long. It bothered me that I wasn't leaking milk. It was even starting to bother me that I was still fully human - but that thought I tried my best to push away. As I puffed drag after drag from my cigarette, feeling the hot satisfaction of the smoke in my lungs, I remembered the events that started the strangest chain reaction imaginable, to lead me here. I was Nathan Walker back then, a 5' 11'' man of 25, and I needed a job. The rent on my apartment wasn't going to pay itself, and my savings that I had accrued before quitting my last job was dwindling away. I walked in to Bert's Shoes, a women's shoe and accessory boutique in the Mission District of San Francisco, to turn in an application. I wasn't hopeful of my chances, given that I was a man and the store only sold women's things, but I was slightly desperate, and the "help wanted" sign beckoned me. Oh how I wish that it hadn't. As I walked in, I saw the woman behind the counter, and my hopes of getting a job here were immediately replaced by other, more base thoughts. There stood a woman I would later learn was named Laura Grant, and she was absolutely gorgeous. She stood about 5' 8'', with long dirty blonde hair down to the middle of her back. Her wide blue eyes and long, angular face seemed better suited to a movie star than a shoe store clerk. She was dressed fairly conservatively, with a cardigan over a silver-grey blouse above a knee-length black skirt and black ballet flats, but there was no hiding her hourglass figure or, as my eyes gravitated to, her ample bosom. She saw me, and gave the polite smile of a salesperson who knew they were probably not going to make a sale. "Hi there, how can I help you?" she asked, in what I would later learn is her standard manner. "Hey there, I noticed the sign out front and was hoping I could fill out an application?" I managed to get the words out coherently, which was a feat, in light of how struck I was by her beauty. Her response surprised and encouraged me. "Oh thanks goodness! We haven't had anyone apply, and I could really use some help around here! Here you go." She reached under the counter, came back up with a piece of paper held in her long, slender fingers, and handed it to me. "Just fill this out and give it back to me when you're done. Do you have any retail experience?" "I do, actually!" I beamed while answering, perhaps more enthusiastically than I had planned. "I used to work at a record shop, but...you know how the music business is nowadays. They had to lay me off." "Yeah, I feel ya. I'm Laura, by the way. And you are?" "Nathan," I replied. We shook hands as she handed me the paper and a pen, and I sat down to fill out the application. It was boilerplate, nothing special, and I had it filled out in no time. The whole time, I was struggling not to steal glances at her, such was how truly hot (no other word for it) she was. I handed it back, and as I did, asked, "So are you the manager here?" "No," came her response, with a slight grin and a sheepish look downward. "I wish - but Bert, the owner, doesn't like to give raises, so right now there isn't a "manager," per se. I can give this to him and get you an interview though. Can I do anything else for you?" She was friendly, but still decidedly in "work" mode, treating me with the distant respect that she would any customer or random person off the street. I wished in that moment that there could be more; it was almost like love at first sight. How I wish now that I had felt nothing of the sort. "Nope," I replied. "Don't think I'll be needing to do any shopping here!" My goofy grin was probably a dead giveaway of my instant crush, as I maintained eye contact with her, doing my best not to once-over her stunning, curvy body. She giggled a little, and simply said, "Well alrighty then! I'll get this to Bert, and we'll be in touch. Thanks!" I thanked her, and turned to walk out the door, after stealing one last glance at her. She was probably about 140, 150 pounds, fit but stacked, elegant in her motions, and sexy as hell all the while. I wished that she had been wearing more revealing clothing. That I could see every last inch of her body. That I could touch and squeeze her breasts and hips and thighs and curvy bubble butt, so apparent beneath her basic skirt. For now, though, my imagination would have to do. I got home that night to my apartment in the Sunset District thinking of nothing but Laura. I was single at the time, about a year removed from my last real relationship, and was already fantasizing about getting the job and spending time with her. Wooing her. Being intimate with her. I masturbated to the thought before I went to bed, unnaturally excited about something that was, essentially, pure fantasy. I got the call a couple of days later, and went in to interview with Bert, the owner of the store. It went well, and I was hired on the spot. It was early fall, and as business was picking up, having only Laura as an employee was no longer enough. If it was busy enough to need two shifts in one day, Bert would sometimes come in and help out, but he was looking to be more hands-off. So I was hired, and started that weekend. Working with Laura was both a dream and a nightmare. She was intimidatingly attractive, with not a flaw on her. As the weeks went on and the weather got colder, she only dressed more conservatively, almost never showing any cleavage at all, and usually covering her entire legs with long dresses or pants. She was constantly distracting me from my work by simply existing, though. No clothing could hide the curvy, hourglass sexiness of this epitome of "woman." We got along well enough, but never in any way more than coworkers. I wanted to ask her out for a drink, and on more than one occasion almost did it, but always decided against, so as not to make things weird at work if she said no. But she was never far from my thoughts. She became an obsession; one that only I was ever even remotely aware existed. Perhaps what was sexiest about her was that she seemed blissfully unaware of how hot she really was. She never dressed to accentuate it; she didn't ever wear any ostentatious makeup; she had no piercings or tattoos, other than a single spot for earrings that almost any adult woman would have; she could joke about Star Wars just about as easily as gossip with customers about the latest in women's fashion; in a word, she was just so utterly NORMAL, and paired with her perfect body and gorgeous face, it was the perfect combination. One day, near the end of our shift, she did what I thought was the unthinkable: she asked me to hang out after work. "Hey Nathan, what are you doing after we close tonight?" Just like that. Like it was the most normal, mundane thing in the world to ask. To me, it was anything but. "Oh, uh, I'm...nothing." I stammered like a silly kid starstruck by a celebrity or something. The casual, mundane nature of our work relationship had taken some practice for me to stick to, but now it was going to come crashing down. "Wanna grab a bite and a drink with me then? You know...if you want." She looked down and grinned sheepishly at that, as though she were shy, or afraid I wouldn't say yes. If only she know what I thought of her! "Definitely!" I almost shouted in her face. It was then my turn to look sheepish and embarrassed. "I mean, yeah, sure. That sounds great." Nice recovery, I thought halfheartedly to myself. "Great, I know just the spot." We had a great time, hanging out, laughing, trading stupid jokes. It was clear that she didn't think it was a date; just getting to know a coworker outside of work. That was fine with me, even though I wanted so much more. I was happy just to spend time with her. I kept my cool, never letting on that I was one step closer to fulfilling my fantasy of being with her. All the while though, she was bundled up in her coat, chic beanie, and long pants. I had yet had nary a glimpse of what could be hiding underneath. That night, while jerking off yet again to fantasies of ripping off her clothes and having my way with her, I muttered under my breath, "God, I wish I could see what was under there, and do so many dirty, shameful things to that body..." It was nothing I would have thought of again after saying it - I often spoke my fantasies aloud while doing the business of pleasuring myself, and then completely forgot about any specifics. I cleaned up when I was done, and fell asleep to thoughts of finding out what was under those dresses and blouses and skirts and pants... I awoke the next morning immediately knowing something was wrong. I could tell that something was vastly different, but couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was for a long moment. I just laid there, confused, wondering what the hell was the reason I felt so strange. As I rolled over in bed, I noticed it. The large mass that was between me and the bed, as I lay on my chest. "What the fuck?!" I blurted out, and was immediately shocked again. It was a high-pitched voice that came from my mouth. A woman's voice! I shot up in bed and threw the covers off. It was dark in the bedroom, but I looked down at myself and saw a body that was in no way my own. I was wearing pink flannel pajamas that covered me from head to toe, long sleeves and long pants not allowing me to see what was underneath. But the shape under the pajamas was impossible to conceal - I had the body of a curvaceous, busty woman, with an hourglass figure, wide hips, and thighs that tapered down to dainty ankles, with small, cute feet, complete with purple nail polish, sticking out from the bottom of the pants. I was in a panic. I had no idea what was going on, or even where I was. The room I was in was not my own. It was decorated in mostly pinks and purples, with baby blues and cream colors as accents. There was a simple but elegant nightstand beside the bed, and when I saw what was on it, by dread became so much more complicated - it was a cell phone. Specifically, it was Laura's cell phone. I knew because I'd been working with her for over a month now, and had seen her use it many times. It was a small smartphone with a pink and black paisley case on it. When I saw it, I turned around frantically, saw the bathroom door ajar, and ran in. Standing in front of me was Laura, in all her cute, covered glory. The look on her face was one I'd not seen before: mute, confused horror. I slowly drew my hand up to my face, and saw Laura do the same. The reality began to truly strike me: I was somehow in Laura's body, in Laura's apartment. I had no idea how or why, but the truth of it was undeniable. I stood there, staring at her in a confused stupor, when a sound I had heard before broke my reverie. It was the sound of her cell phone's ringtone. The song scared the ever-living shit out of me. Knowing there was no way in hell I would answer, I still ran back to the bed to see who was calling. I should have known, but it still weirded me out to no end: it was me. My name appeared on the screen. "Nathan Work." How cute; she must know another Nathan, I guessed. Staring at the screen for a moment, dumbfounded, I then realized that I HAD to answer. I picked up the phone, swiped the "answer" key, and put the phone up to my ear, but said nothing. The longest silence of my life lingered for a moment, before I heard a voice that sounded strangely like my own say, in a fear-choked croak, "Nathan?" After another long pause, I simply said, "Yeah," almost crying as I heard Laura's voice come out of my mouth again. "Nathan, what is happening?" The calmness in her...his...her voice was dripping with the panic I myself felt gripping at my heart, but was strangely calm, nonetheless. It was perhaps the weirdest moment in what had so far been a very, very weird morning - hearing my own voice on the phone, and me answering with someone else's. "I...I don't know. I'm...you, I think?" That was stupid sounding, but it was all I could manage in that moment. "Yes, that seems to be the case. And I am you. I woke up like this about an hour ago, and only just now realized that you might be on the other end. We need to meet up. Now." "No way!" I shrieked back, so much more shrill and high-pitched than I intended or thought possible. "I'm not going outside like this! I'm...I'm...just, no! I can't." "Nathan, I know it seems hard, but I've got a really strange suggestion that you just need to listen to. It's something I discovered when I went to pee about a half hour ago." Oh god. She'd seen me naked, and touched my dick. I hadn't thought of that. I didn't know if it bothered me or not, but it struck me as something that should. Deciding that she seemed to have a way better handle on the situation than I did, I decided to listen. "What is it?" "Search for the switch in your brain that lets you be me. I know that sounds crazy, but it's there for me. When I went to pee, before I got to the bathroom, I thought to myself, 'how do I even do this? Do I stand? Do I sit? How do I aim?' And while searching for answers, a feeling clicked in my head. I can't describe it. But I felt like I could switch from being me stuck in your body, to just being...you. So I did it. It was like I was on autopilot. I undid your fly, pulled out your...penis, aimed, peed, shook it off, and put it back like it was the most natural thing in the world. I didn't even have to think about it. I didn't even really CHOOSE to do it. Your body...my body...fuck I don't know! THIS body just knew what to do, and did it. Do you understand me?" I didn't, but I tried to. "I don't know. I don't feel anything like that. I feel like a lost invader. Like I'm almost detached from reality." But as I spoke, I searched. And then found it. It was within me, and I decided to click it on. Just like that. "Oh my god," was all I could say. "So you found it?!" "Yes." "Go get dressed and then call me back." She hung up before I could say anything else. I knew exactly what to do. I stripped off my pajamas, but despite the fact that as Nathan I would want to stare at the gorgeous body I possessed, at the moment, it just felt totally normal. I walked over to my dresser and opened to top drawer, which contained bras and panties. I knew exactly where to reach, even in the darkened room, to pull out just the matching set I was looking for. A black thong and a basic black bra. I put them on as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and with barely a look down to make sure they were on correctly, I moved on to the next drawer: pants. I grabbed a pair of tight-fitting jeans, slipped them on easily, closed the drawer, and walked over to the closet. Next to the closet door was the light switch, which I turned on, then went to look for an appropriate top. The fact that not one minute ago I wouldn't have the slightest idea what an "appropriate" top was didn't much occur to me; I just found a long-sleeved, blue-and-grey striped shirt, slipped it on, and walked back over to the phone, which was still resting on the nightstand. Before picking it up, and with barely a second thought about it, I picked up the hair tie that sat next to it, put my hair up in a bun, and then dialed my own number - which somehow didn't seem very strange. "Hello?" came my own voice. But of course it was - that was me answering the phone. "Hey Nathan. So...I think it's working." It didn't seem very strange that I was calling someone else Nathan. After all, that's who I was talking to. "I guess so. Now turn it off." And just like that, I decided to click off the Laura autopilot that I had been running on. It wasn't that I had not been myself while I'd gotten dressed - I had just let her take over. Now I was back to being me - and was about as scared as ever. "Holy shit, Laura! What the hell just happened?!" "I don't know how it works, but it seems like we can just...switch over to letting our bodies do all of our thinking and acting for us. We can sit in the background and let the body we're in act as it normally would, for the most part." "But I was still in control! I decided to put these clothes on, and do my hair this way, and call you back. It just...came so easily, though." "Yeah, it seems like, as fucked up as this situation is, that this will help us out a lot. When I was switched into autopilot mode, your mom called. And I answered." "You did WHAT?!" The panic that had momentarily subsided surged up again within me. "Don't worry! We talked like nothing was wrong. I knew exactly what to say. I barely had to even think about it. I just...was you." "This is too weird," I said flatly. "You're right - we need to meet up." "Same place as last night?" she offered. "Sure. See you in 10." And with that we hung up. Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the same restaurant we had the night before, albeit in much less of a good mood. "I walked over here in autopilot mode. I just...couldn't face the world as only myself." "That's alright," she answered. "I did the same. It just seemed...I don't know, somehow 'right' to let you be in charge of what your body does in public. "Yeah, I guess that's about the way I felt. Laura, this is so fucking weird. What the hell happened to us?!" "I don't know," she said, calmer than I was feeling - which helped. "I think it's obvious by now that we-" At that moment, the waitress came over to take our order. [FLESH OUT HERE] About a week later, when we were meeting for dinner for what was turning out to be our nightly recap of each other's experience, I had to bring it up. "Laura, do you smoke?" "No...I've always wondered what it'd be like, especially because so many of my friends in high school did, but I always figured the health risks were just not worth it. Why do you ask?" She sounded slightly concerned, as she well should have. "Well...today as I was walking down to the corner store as you, I passed someone who was smoking, and the smell just appealed so much to me. It was really weird. So then when I got to the store, as I was checking out with my milk and eggs, I decided to get a pack of cigarettes. I walked outside and couldn't wait to light one up. It felt good, Laura. It felt really fucking good. What do you think that means?" "I don't know, but something happened to me yesterday as you. I've been checking out and letting your body do it's thing more and more; it just seems easier. And yesterday, I went and signed up for a gym and started lifting weights. You ever do anything like that?" "Ha, no, never. Always meant to, but never got around to it. At least you picked me up a good habit. I'm fucking your body up with this smoking...I've already had four today. I can't stop." "Well try to, Nathan! Those are my lungs you're mucking up in there." "I know, but...now, even when I'm not on autopilot, it's like...the damage is done. I still feel those cravings. And holy shit, I understand why they're called that now. I'm sorry, but as long as I feel this way...I don't think I'm going to stop, Laura. I won't be able to." She paused for a moment, sighed, and said, "Nathan...I think that whatever happened, did more than switch our bodies. I think it's messing with our minds somehow as well. I just don't yet know how...or why." "Me neither, but we need to figure it out before I start shooting you up with heroin." "Don't even fucking joke about that kind of thing," she commanded flatly. I sobered up my tone and replied, "I know, okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to do my best to be good until we figure out how to switch back. But I think you're right. Whatever did this to us...it's not done, Laura. And I'm scared." "Me too." That night, lying in what I was starting to think of as my own bed, and not "Laura's," I finally masturbated. I didn't set out intending to do so; I started as I was admiring my perfect breasts, cupping them, slowly circling then pinching the nipples, running my fingertips softly across the sensitive flesh. It made my nether regions hot and aching to be touched, and I could no longer resist. I reached down and immediately went to my clitoris, but as soon as I touched it, I realized that it was far too sensitive to just, well, go at it. So I decided to turn on the autopilot, and see what Laura's guidance could bring to the situation. I started slowly tickling my outer labia with the fingertips of one hand, while going back to circling and pinching my nipples with the other. I looked down to admire my gorgeous body, and noticed that the veins on my tits really stood out when I was all hot and bothered like this. It almost made them look...swollen, somehow. And I realized that I loved it. I loved imagining my tits swelling. The thought of them blocking out more and more of my field of vision, jutting out and blocking my pussy, blocking my feet, obscuring anything I might have been able to see below them - it got me so goddamn turned on. I inserted one slender finger into my vagina; my middle finger; my longest first. After a few minutes of slowly working my hole, in and out, I added my index finger. Then my ring. Soon I was shoving all four of my fingers in and out of my pussy, while using my thumb to rub up and down on my clit, all the while pinching and squeezing and massaging my tits. It felt amazing, to be sure, but what was making me edge closer and closer to climax, I realized, were my thoughts. I knew that they were not entirely my own, since I had engaged "Laura autopilot" mode, but that didn't change how very real they were. The main, overriding thought was that of my tits expanding. As my E-cups bounced and flopped around with each thrust I gave my pelvis, shoving it to meet my fingers halfway in their quest to fill my pussy, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I'd love for them to be bigger. And not just a little bit; I wanted them to bulge, stretching at the very skin around them, filling my field of vision, blocking out my ability to see the rest of my body. I thought about walking around town in revealing skintight clothing, my tits jutting so far out in front of me that it would be difficult to keep my balance, especially while wearing the several-inch-high heeled sandals that I'd be wearing. People on the streets wouldn't be able to help but gawk and stare, amazed at the sheer unnaturalness of my proportions. My nipples would be so long that no bra would be able to contain them, and they would poke proudly through the thin material of whatever barely-there dress I was wearing. And just as the thought of it was getting me so turned on I could hardly bear it, it happened - I saw my breasts swell. Not a lot, but it was unmistakable. I felt it. I saw it. My tits grew probably half a cup size in a matter of seconds. I came with an intensity I didn't think was possible. It was primal; visceral; uncontrollable. It really was like a perfect pinnacle had been reached, and I was a slave to its capture. My pussy clamped down on my fingers and didn't let them escape as they continued to claw at my g-spot. My thumb simply pressed full-force into my clit; I was unable, or maybe just unwilling, to do anything but press my pleasure button at full force. When I finally could take no more, I slowed my pace, easing myself out of the ecstasy, slowly, slowly, ever so slowly winding down my ministrations, letting the waves of pleasure ease down as gently as I could. The next day, I tried to go about my day at work as best I could, using the autopilot as little as possible. It was a little bit easier because I worked at the same place that I already had before the swap, but there were still so many tiny things that were just easier if I let Laura's mind take over. Hair falling in my face? Turn to autopilot to perfectly reset my hair bun. Taking a pee? Turn to autopilot to make sure I wipe correctly. Talking to a customer about basically anything? Turn on the autopilot and make sure I sound like a normal woman, giving normal advice about women's clothes. Every time I did it though, I felt the fear wash over me as I returned to my own control. What new changes would be wrought upon me as a result of letting Laura's innermost desires creep to the surface? I was as sure that I didn't want to know as I was that I would find out, and probably sooner rather than later. Just thinking about it was giving me a headache, though it was a strange one; my head hurt in two spots, on either side of the top of the front of my head, about two inches behind my hairline. Ever since the night before, when my breasts had swollen larger, filling me with elation, I had already felt the desire, creeping up ever so slowly within my psyche, for even more growth - and not just to the breasts, but to the nipples. I wanted long, swollen nipples on huge, engorged breasts, and I couldn't shake the thought. It was too much, and so, during a slow time with no customers in the store, I turned to my old body and asked Laura the question whose answer I dreaded. "Laura...I think I know why the changes are happening to us, and I want to know what your thoughts are." "Oh? Do tell," she said from my mouth. "Well, You know how you said that you'd always wanted to try smoking, and thought it was cool, but never picked it up because you know how unhealthy it is?" "Yeah." "And how I always wanted to work out more, but was always too lazy, and now you're addicted to going to the gym? "...Yeah." She was catching on. "I mean, it's only been a few days and you look ripped already. And it didn't take my trying smoking for a while to get addicted, I was IMMEDIATELY addicted." "What are you getting at?" Her interest had turned to worry, on her face, and in her tone of voice. "Well, I think that using the autopilot makes our bodies' inner desires become a reality. And not even just in our thoughts - it makes our bodies quickly manifest those desires." She stared blankly at me, processing what I was telling her, so I continued with the question I thought would really seal the deal. "Laura, have you ever wished that your breasts were...different than they are now?" A pregnant pause. "Yes." A bashful look away. "Laura, you can't hold back on me. Please tell me everything. What, EXACTLY, do you wish was different about your body? Because the tits have already grown. I keep daydreaming about my nipples getting longer and my boobs growing even bigger. I need to know what's next." With that, she almost started to cry - which scared the shit out of me. "Laura, I'm sorry I'm pressing you, but I'm getting really freaked out here. I'm on your team, you just have to tell me!" "I've...I've always want-" And at that moment, a woman walked in the store with her two teenage daughters. I immediately switched to autopilot, and could tell Laura did it too with my body. "Hi, how can we help you today?!" I smiled and asked cheerfully. The banality of the subsequent interaction is barely worth mentioning. I helped her find tops for her daughters. They paid for them. It was as normal of an interaction as you could ask for. And I felt normal doing it. But in the back of my mind, I was screaming to find out what it was that Laura knew her body would want next. It took almost a half hour for her to leave the boutique, and by the time she did, it was closing time. Nathan, as I almost thought of him when I was letting Laura's body do the thinking, swept up and straightened out the merchandise while I counted the drawer. It was almost hilarious how strange we weren't acting. Truth was, both of us were too afraid to come back to ourselves and talk about what was going on. After we stepped outside and locked the door, though, it was time to face the music. "OK Laura - time to come back to me," I said, and watched Nathan's face go from placid to fearful in the blink of an eye; I knew she was back off autopilot. "Nathan I...I...can we go somewhere and sit down?" "Laura, just say it, you're killing me here - it can't be that-" "I WANT TO BE A COWGIRL, OKAY?!" That stopped me in my tracks. It didn't seem so bad - why all the fuss? So I'll start wanting to ride horses and wear plaid. Big deal! Hell, I didn't even see what that had to do with the breast and nipple growth. Looking back on that moment of my thoughts, with the perspective I have today...God, it seems so stupid that I could almost laugh about it. "Laura, a...a cowgirl?" I laughed a nervous chuckle. "Hehe, that's what this is all about? Like, lassos, horses, farming cattle, listening to country music?" In the middle of me listing things she started to vehemently shake her head. "No, Nathan you don't understand. I want to be, like...part cow. It's my deepest darkest fantasy. I don't usually even admit it to myself - and would NEVER have EVER said it out loud if you hadn't pressed me." I was all of a sudden in a much, much less good mood than I had been a moment prior. "So, wait, I..." I searched for the words to ask her. "You want to be...part COW? What do you even mean by that?!" "I mean I want big giant milk-filled titties, with giant teat-nipples, that need to be milked all the time. Sometimes I've even fantasized about having a second set of tits below mine, all four filling with milk almost constantly. I want horns on my head and floppy ears. I want my hands and feet to be like hooves. I want-" "Wait WHAT?" I interrupted, putting my hands out in front of me and staring at them. "You want...I'm going to...they're going to be HOOVES?" "Not all the way! Just...I like the thought of my toes all fusing together into hooves. My hands, not so much - I've just always thought it would be so goddamn hot if I didn't have full use of my fingers...like, if instead of having all five, I just had two big fingers and a thumb, with, like...hoof-talon-fingernail things at the end." She looked too embarrassed to be alive, yet somehow, bless her heart, she was spilling all the beans on her crazy perversion. "Laura, you can't be serious! That's all going to happen to me?" "I don't know! But so far it seems to be. And there's more." "Holy shit..." "I want a cow nose, with a ring in it. A big, welded shut nose ring. And a tail. And...oh god. And fur, with cow spots." "OK you have to stop Laura. I can't take any more. This is too much...it's...too much." I slumped my shoulders in defeat. "I'm sorry! I can't help it. It's just always been a dirty little secret I kept locked away. The thought of being on all fours, slave to my milking - it just gets me so hot. And soon, if your theory is right, it'll get you hot thinking about it. Then it'll happen to you." The look of helpless pity in her eyes was too much. "Jesus Christ!" I was starting to panic a little. The thought of becoming something so inhuman...it scared the shit out of me. "I...I'm so sorry Nathan. I've felt it too, I just didn't want to say anything. I hoped it wasn't true." Her words were almost too quiet to hear, drowned out by the noise on the street around us. "You've felt it too?" "Well, the thing with going to the gym. I've been a little obsessed with building muscle and getting super ripped - but that's something I'd never have been into as myself. Was that a fantasy of yours?" Now it was my turn to be a bit embarrassed. "Well...yeah. I've always been kinda skinny, you know, and...yeah, I've always kind of wished that I had a bodybuilder physique. Like, just be a six-foot-five god of muscle. Actually..." And with that, something clicked in my brain, "I have, sometimes, when I'm being honest with myself about my fantasy self, thought of my ideal as somewhat of a 'bull' of a man. A 'bull!' Can you believe that? I don't even think about it very much though...fuck, how deep does this curse or magic or whatever the FUCK it is dig into our brains? What does it want with us? WHY IS THIS EVEN HAPPENING?!" Now people on the street were staring at me, and as I noticed it, I forced myself to calm down. "Nathan-" she began. "Don't even call me that," I spat disgustedly but quietly. "I don't look like a Nathan. I don't feel like a Nathan. I look like you. Just call me Laura. There's clearly nothing we can do about this." She looked like she was going to get mad at me about that, but then hesitated for a moment. After sighing and setting her (his) shoulders into a squared, determined position, she (he) said to me, "Alright Laura. Maybe you're right. Maybe there's nothing we can do about this. But maybe - just maybe! - we can make something good - well not good - but maybe we can make this better than we're making it." I was incredulous that he would even say such a thing. I stormed off back to my apartment, ignoring his pleas to come back and talk about things. Which leads me to where I started. Standing on my back porch, smoking a cigarette, feeling like a slave to my desires. I looked over my body with two distinct and opposing forms of disdain - I hated that I was stuck in someone else's body, transforming into something that would repulse most people, and should repulse me; but I also hated the things about it that I wanted to change, but hadn't yet. That was coming from the part of my mind that was slipping further and further into the grip of this force, or magic, or whatever the hell it was. I thought more and more about what Laura-in-my-old-body had said, about making something good of this, and I couldn't help but start to think that it made a sort of sense. The pull I felt to gain more and more cow features was unbearably strong at this point; there was a visceral desire that I couldn't turn off. Ever since she had told me what she fantasized about, and therefore what I knew I was becoming, it had become exponentially stronger. I could feel my body yearning to change. It felt like a craze of itches all over my body that I couldn't scratch, but needed to. My feet felt wrong, my chest felt wrong, my head and face felt wrong, my hands felt wrong. Everything felt wrong - but not in the way it did when we first changed bodies. Now the wrongness wasn't because I wasn't male - it was because I was still simply a human female, and not a curvy, furry, hoofed, four-breasted, lactating freak. I wanted it. I needed it. I couldn't stop it. I put out the cigarette, pulled out another, lit it, and started rubbing my clit through my robe, unbearably aroused by the thought of what I was turning into. That night went much like the night before - I let Laura's body take over my actions, pleasured myself with reckless abandon, fantasizing all the while about the changes that I so badly desired, and then orgasmed with hurricane force. As I lay squirming in bed, relishing the afterglow, I went to pinch my nipples with each thumb and forefinger, and absently noticed that that's not exactly what I did - whatever I did with my first finger, the middle one followed. I knew what that meant, but at that moment, I didn't even care. My pairs of fingers were acting in concert because, quite soon, they would fuse together. I'm going to just have two fingers and a thumb on each hand, and they're going to look half-cow, half-human, I thought to myself as I fondled my nipples with three fingers each, followed freely by the next realization: it's going to be so fucking sexy. I was beyond caring about the changes. I wanted and needed them so deep in the core of my being, I had no choice but to accept and love them. I switched back into full control of myself at that point, and although the disgust returned, it was not accompanied by any reduction in my desires. I fell asleep with images of my new body-to-be dancing in my head. The next day at work, I found it extremely difficult to focus. Every time I had even a second with nothing to occupy my mind, thoughts of my coming changes consumed me, while memories of my utter depravation the night before haunted me. Nathan avoided all eye contact, probably out of embarrassment, or even guilt, about what he, the person who used to inhabit this body, was indirectly causing it to become around me. Despite the likely theory that turning to autopilot mode caused the desires to strengthen their hold on my mind, I didn't care any more; I did it constantly, letting Laura's body do the thinking and acting for me, unable to cope with regular life while my mind was exploding in turmoil. Near the end of my shift, it happened. It was the final nail in my mental coffin. I felt an itch at the base of my spine, and without having to look or do any investigating, I immediately knew what it was: the beginnings of a tail. I wasn't particularly busy at the moment, so I stepped into the bathroom to have a look for myself. I took off my dress, so I was only wearing a sports bra - it was all that would fit my swelling tits anymore - and the black heels that my feet seemed to crave wearing. I hadn't bothered with panties today, reasoning that they would impede my access to my pussy if I needed to rub it. Logic that barely registered as bizarre to me any more. I regarded my body with the same sense of dueling disgusts that I had the night before. I turned to look at my backside - had my ass swollen bigger today? - and saw a raised patch of what looked like fur, about the size of a half-dollar, right where I knew it would be. I only sighed in resignation. The switch into Laura's body had only been the beginning. This, I knew, was the beginning of the rest of my freak-show life. I stared at the nub of a tail for a moment, and as I stood there, craning my neck backwards to look in the mirror, I noticed something else: my shoes were a bit tight. Turning back around to look down at my feet, the tops of which were visible in the open top of my pumps, I saw a change that I assumed had just occurred, or else I was really losing my focus: they were slightly hairy. No: FURRY. A dusting of white fur was clearly visible all over my feet, up past my ankles. It was just as Laura had said it would be, or at least how she had said she'd wanted it to be. The proof was undeniable now. I was more than just a woman. I was officially part cow. The presence of these new animal features excited me far more than it should have. My thinking brain wanted to mutter, "oh no," but I was overtaken by a deep satisfaction at the beginning of this new stage, and a different sound came out, quiet, almost a whisper, but unmistakable: "oh, mooooo..." That caught me by surprise. I knew that I was going to change, and even knew that I wanted it and was going to like it, no matter my resistance. But would my speech, my actions, my very self, also be altered? Apparently so. That, it turned out, was too much. I put my dress back on, walked out into the store (no customers were around, thank god), and said to Nathan, "I'm going home." I turned to march straight out, but he called after me, "Wait, why?" I stopped, turned back, and said, "Mmmmyooou know why, Nathan," suppressing the urge to apparently turn every word involving an "O" sound into a moo, "I'm officially turning into your fantasy animal. I can't be here. My feet are furry. I'm growing a tail. I can't even talk for t-t-t-too long without a m-...m-...moooooo coming out. I'm done. I can't be human any moooore. I don't think I'll be back." He stared at me in stunned silence. After a moment, he hung his head, nodded, and did something I didn't know I needed as badly as I did: he walked over and hugged me. He held me tight for what felt like an eternity, and I needed every second of it. As much as my body and soul yearned for the changes, my conscious mind still wanted to revolt. My body disgusted me. For him to accept it and hold me and comfort me...it meant the world to me in that moment. It made me feel...safe. As I left the store, yearning for the moment I could take off my now too-tight shoes, I couldn't decide which had felt better: the emotional support of the hug, or the sensation of his strong, manly body pressing into my tits, sending thrills of pleasure radiating out from my chest through my whole body. Ah, who am I kidding, I thought as I started my car. It was the tits. I welcome everyone's reviews, thoughts, suggestions, and so forth - I'd love to see where y'all want me to take it next!