From his seated position on the carpet floor outside his bedroom door, Jeff's body still stirred. He could tell that the changes hadn't stopped yet. Actually, it felt like he was getting bigger... heavier... bulkier, on the upper half of his body. The increased testosterone was working its magic.
Peeking back into his room, the progress bar was at 4 minutes. It confirmed that the changes weren't done, he guessed. As Jeff looked on with increased interest, his arms were rougher-looking; his skin was actually turning a bit darker in tone. And yes, he was getting a bit hairier. Like, he was only 16, but he had the hair of an adult man. He wasn't changing shape, either... no, it was like he was gaining muscle, without doing anything to earn it. The muscles he always wanted, secretly, but had no patience or time to gain, were appearing out of nowhere.
Looking back at his legs, any last strand of humanity left in the lower half of the body was gone. His thighs were these thick, bulbous things: completely covered in dark brown fur, and bow-legged. His feet had elongated like that of a bull, covered in shorter, blackish-brown fur. His toes ended in two solid, cloven hooves, with two bumps set just above - "dewclaws," he remembered. His rope-like bull tail dangled freely behind him, which he could move without giving much thought, and it hung just above the rather large hindquarters that he now sported. In front, his dick barely resembled anything human anymore - with a fur-coated sheath and two sizeable balls dangling underneath. "I'm an animal where it counts," he thought to himself.
And just above his waist, but below his belly button, the brownish fur of his bullish body faded away, transitioning into the smooth skin of his abdomen. This area he kept feeling up, with more and more euphoria.
There was the audible Windows-esque "ding" from his computer, which signified the completion of the transformation. Well, what do you know? It was like he had been fused to the hindquarters of a bull, rather than having gained some of the qualities of one. But, indeed, he had entered it into the machine that way - to set his lower body to 90% bull. And it had done just that.
As Jeff pondered whether he wanted to adjust the settings or do something else, he heard a door open and the clomping of feet, like .... hooves. That was strange! He got up on his new legs, and as he stabilized against the wall, his father came into view.
His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Oh shit!
His dad had the lower body of a bull, too! And he's also not wearing any pants!
"Hey stud," he said as he approached. Jeff's dad looked almost the same from the waist up - he was wearing a Cubs baseball cap, and a very typical button-down shirt with the front pocket, where he kept his cellphone. But he had more facial hair than Jeff ever remembered; nearly a full beard. His arms and fingers, brawny and meaty; they were covered with thick human hair. The fur on his legs had the same coloring. His dad used to be short and stocky, but for as staunch and well-built he himself felt, his father's top half looked way more toned and muscular.
"Mum said it's time for a razorin', eh?" he nudged Jeff's shoulder. "Good timing. Car's runnin' in the garage and I was 'bout to take off but she got me."
Jeff couldn't help but just stare. He'd almost forgotten about his own changes.
"And throw a shirt on - nobody wants to see you sweatin' and drippin' like a wrestler."
Something had gone wrong, and it had changed his Dad, as well. Didn't he have to be [i]in range[/i] for the device to work? He didn't like this at all, now. Jeff needed to undo this, and quickly.
"Dad, I need to get to something on my computer -"
"You can play games later, Jeff," he asserted, with an uncharacteristic growl that frightened him. "Put on a shirt, and let's go!"
"But Dad -"
"FINE!" he shouted, and pulled his arm - making him nearly trip over his hooves.
"Here, put this on, since you don't know how to follow directions." His Dad yanked a jacket from the hooks next to the garage door, and they went outside.
He really couldn't get out of this!
"Dad, I need to put on some pants, or - euhmm - shorts,"
His father chuckled. "What?? Don't be ridiculous, we're not going to a funeral, kid. Now stop delayin', I got other appointments today, you know..."
---------------
Before he knew it, Jeff and his father were driving into the city and pulling up to the downtown mall parking area, where several clothiers and restaurants lined the city blocks. Arriving at the pharmacy, he couldn't believe what he was seeing as he walked by....
All the men - ALL the men - and only men - had the lower half body of a bull. They weren't even all the same; some had long fur, short fur, white fur, speckled brown and white, shaggy roan fur... even the occasional black and white spotted cow fur. And none of them were covering any of it up; their male endowments in clear view. Meanwhile, the women who were with them looked unchanged - maybe they were a bit bulkier? He couldn't really tell.
This was weird.
Whatever had happened with the Chronivac when he chose to alter reality, it apparently wasn't specific enough as to how. Instead of just making it so that everyone thought Jeff's changes were normal, it had changed everyone else around him so that his changes were the reality. And it had done so in such a bizarre fashion, that he felt like he had crossed into an alternate universe completely.
Maybe that's what it did.
Hundreds of memories had been flooding into his brain during the entire drive there. All male humans in the world - if they could even be called that anymore - had the lower bodies of a bull. In this way, the world had adapted to accept this new reality in several different ways. Yes, men were a bit more brutish and temperamental, but that was just the name of the game. And it was perfectly fine to wear nothing below the waist; in fact, it was expected - after all, you were all-animal down there.
At age four, Jeff had his hooves trimmed for the first time - a traumatic experience. At age eight, he had gotten into his first "fight" at school with a fellow male. At age thirteen, he had began to bulk up, much to his embarrassment. And now he was needing to shave to keep a "clean" face - just the next step in bull-hood, his mind told him.
As they walked to the back of the pharmacy, he noted how much his walking cycle had changed. He leaned forward more than he used to, and the steps were quick 'clop' sounds. The more attention he paid to it, though, the more he felt off-balance. He was better off pretending that none of this was out of the ordinary. He shook his head again; the only way to get everything back to normal was to play along until his Dad took him back home.
His dad slowed down to walk alongside him. "Sorry for th' outburst at the house. You know I don't mean 'em. It's just been almost two days since I last stopped in, and that's far too long for your ol' man." He had stopped in the back-right corner of the pharmacy. Overhead, a sign read, "Siring Clinic."
Men's health was important in this world, as their lower halves required that they eat additional proteins, vitamins, and carbs that their upper halves usually burned off. More importantly, their bovine packages needed regular "release", otherwise there was serious risk of an outburst of mood swings and rage. A healthy balance of fats was important, too; too much fat could affect fertility. Letting it build up inside for longer than a day or two heightened the risk of an outburst - thus what happened back at the house when Jeff's dad yelled at him.
In the controlled, modern society of this reality, pharmacies offered siring centers for men to come relieve themselves, and most considered it a natural part of life, making it a regular habit to stop in every day or every other day.
"You know, stud..." his father said, turning to him, before he could fully conceive what the sign meant. "If we're picking up some razors for 'ya, maybe it's about time you get some of th' ol' rage out of your system, too. How have 'ya been feelin' at school lately?"
"Dad... I really just wanna get out of here," Jeff said.
"Okay, okay... I get it. You don't wanna do this with your dad right now. Well, maybe next time." He walked up to the front register. "One session, please..."
"Self or assisted?"
He was starting to get a headache. He needed to get this fixed, and fast. This was interesting, but it was all too much! And seeing his dad talk so openly about... this.
"I'll be right back, Jeff. Go find a razor you wanna get,"