You're still groggy from waking up, so cooking something sounds like too much effort. Best to keep it simple until you're fully awake. Besides, you'll make yourself a fancy lunch later.
You open up the cabinet and pick out the box of puffed rice cereal and a small bowl, pouring it out and folding the box closed before setting it aside and plucking a spoon from the drawer under the counter.
Of course, you can't have cereal without milk. You're not a barbarian, after all. You open up the fridge and grab the full carton of 100% milk, closing the fridge door. You unscrew the carton and carefully pour the milk over the cereal, making sure it's not too little but not enough to make it soggy. As you turn around to put the carton back into the fridge, you never notice the unearthly blue static that appears around the bowl behind you. Strange staic crackles through the milk, disappearing below the surface before you get a chance to see it.
You sit down, bring the spoon of cereal and milk to your lips, and start eating. Either you're hungrier than you thought, or this is some particularly good milk, because the creaminess and crunch of the food is almost startling. You polish off the bowl in mere moments, a contented gurgle in your stomach, and pour out a glass of milk before quickly downing it, then a second. You decide to hell with it, you're out here on your own, and start drinking directly from the carton.
The milk is amazing, filling your stomach and whole body with a hazy bliss. Your whole body feels soft and contented, your skin becoming silky smooth and shedding its hair as you keep drinking, long after the carton should have run dry, long after you should have started feeling ill from all the milk you're downing. But it keeps going, and the soft gurgling in your stomach becomes a warm fullness that spreads over your body, and you curl your toes in pleasure as the warmth starts filling you out, adding a layer of soft plush fat all over your body, gently widening your hips and plumping up your thighs and butt into a portrait of motherly beauty, while your toenails start spreading up your toes as you unknowingly wriggle them into position. The nails thicken and darken, while your toes quietly lock into place and become encased as your nails merge into black hooves.
You unconsciously tilt your ankles upward to compensate, your feet lengthening and reinforcing themselves to become the bottom part of your now digitigrade legs. An invisible force starts teasing at your spine, drawing it out into a short thing tail that absentmindedly swishes back and forth, before sprouting a brush of black hair at the tip. A thin coat of white stubble starts spreading from there, reaching down to your toes and up to your waist, broken up by black spots, the fur growing dense and soft until it looks for all the world like you're wearing cow-pattern pants. But anyone who touched them would immediately know this was real, heavenly soft fur. As the fur fills out, the hair on your head starts its own transformation. It untangles, lengthens, turning silky smooth and darkening to a beautiful shiny black, growing until it just reaches your shoulders before spooling up into beautiful silky black curls. As you keep gulping down the milk, your jawline softens and shortens, your cheeks becoming ever so slightly plump, your eyelashes filling out, your eyelids blinking closed and opening to reveal new eyes that sparkle like sunlight. Unaware of any of this, you keep gulping down the milk, your lips plumping up and becoming softer, the red of your lips darkening into a vivid deep maroon, now plush and soft and inviting. Your Adam's apple bobs as you keep drinking, dipping into your neck and bobbing out less and less with each swallow. With a soft -pop-, the next gulp of milk erases it entirely.
Your fingers, still wrapped around the seemingly bottomless carton of milk, reshape and soften, losing their rough outdoorsman calluses and becoming the delicate but strong hands of a woman in her prime, the nails becoming manicured and ever so slightly longer. As you shift your grip of the carton, one of these new nails catches on the edge, and whatever was keeping you entranced loses its grip. Everything that's been happening suddenly rushes into your mind, along with the confusion and panic that should have accompanied it. In shock you drop the carton of milk on the table and stumble backwads, losing your balance and landing on the chair behind you with your new plush ass, and to your alarm it feels -good-. You involuntarily let out a soft, surprised noise that sounds nothing like you. In fact, it sounds distinctly feminine. You look down in silent shock at your changed body. The hooves, the fur, the tail, the hips, everything. You even catch a glimpse of your reflection in the metal of the fridge door, and barely recognize yourself. Your features are all there, and you can see traces of yourself if you look, but the face staring back at you is clearly a woman's, maybe even a mother's.
"What in the wor-"
You clap your hands over your lips, startled by the sultry, matronly voice coming from your mouth. What in god's name is going on? And- wait a minute, is it sTILL THERE?!