After a short cry John realized that the changes had stopped. He slowly got up on wobbly new feet and tried to assess the damage.
He had the hooves of a cow, but he could still stand on two feet. His hands only had three digits, each ending in a hard black nail, but at least they were opposable digits so he could still grasp things. Looking down his chest he saw two large protuberances. Brushing aside the fur he could see two small nipples hidden within the fur. He guessed these were breasts, but they were obviously not his true breasts. Well, at least probably not milk producing breasts. No, that honor undoubtedly belonged to the large pink udder peaking out beneath his swollen, bulging belly. Four long thin teats extended from his udder, reminding him of the penis he had lost. He could no longer see below the udder, but he could feel the tight warm slit that had replaced his cock and balls. On the deserted road he could not see his face but he could feel the long muzzle containing his large thick tongue, the small smooth horns ending in sharp tips on the top of his head and the long, round floppy ears resting his head. He could, however, see the black and white spotted fur that now covered his whole body, even the long thin tail that absentmindedly swished back and forth behind his back.
He guessed that he had the overall appearance of some kind of anthropomorphic cow, a hybrid of human and animal. It didn't take a genius to understand the cryptic warning the old woman had given him. He surely would be able to give his guests all the milk they wanted. He wanted to curse her, but restrained himself, grateful that she had at least left him still partially human. It gave him hope, thinking that if he could only get home, he still could get help.
With renewed energy he began to prepare to continue the walk home. He looked down at the remains of his clothes. His shoes were no good, but with his new hard hooves he didn't think the gravel road would be a problem. He held up his ruined pants, now ridiculously small in comparison to his new body. He realized that his whole body must have grown larger, explaining why his shirt had been torn apart, too. How tall was he? Seven feet, maybe eight? It was hard to tell in the dark, standing on the tips of his hooves. It really didn't matter how tall he was. All that mattered was that none of his clothes now fit and he would be walking home nude.
He hoped no one saw him. To the casual driver it might just look like a costume. Maybe even in the dark he could bluff his way out of it if he was caught. But the ruse would not hold up under close scrutiny. And if he continued to change he would really be screwed. But he couldn't worry about that now. He had just had to think about getting home, to his friends. With their help, everything would be okay.
So, with that thought, his small glimmer of hope grew into a large burning fire, and he continued down the dark country road with renewed energy.