He thought to then speak, but the transforming of his self into being a bull animal was conforming, as words in his head turned out as a low bellowed cry of a sad bull. Fear as he never had gripped his mind. Try as he might, Damon could not walk uprightly, but fell forward, crashing down onto four legs and four sets of cloven hooves. His nose seemed wet and runny, so he lowered his great bullish head to then wipe his nose across his wrist. What came into view was a knee and foreleg, with cloven hooves and black fur of his then bovine animal, Angus bull self.
Damon looked with swaying his head up and looking around. The backyard mercury vapor light gave a shadowy outline of a young bull silhouette upon the house wall. He eyed the distinct outline of his bullish form, gawking at his fuzzy sheath and the few inches of bull cock protruding out into the open air.
Again he lifted the right foreleg to wipe his runny nose only to scratch his hooves at a sensual big nose.
"Ouch," Damon thought as his throat gave a moo. His human mind was alert and questioning his situation while feeling the onslaught of bovine instincts, they becoming a mix of a new bovine bull. As he felt nervous about his sudden change of genius, his tail began to flick about his butt. The tail movement startled him at first, but slowly he found a pleasure in it's rubbing touch to what until then had never seen the sunshine and blue skies.
Inching forward as best he could, the desire to walk on all fours was his primary thought. An occasional wiggling of the hind legs led to an enjoyed sensation of his great big bullish balls bonking at his hind hocks. Damon turning, felt his strong chest and forelegs move with his bulk body, he felt elated with being a bull, and saw there the Genie smiling, admiring his handiwork.
In that moment he was so pleased with the strength, Damon felt his bullish self let out a long satisfied bellow. Even as his wind died off and the bellowing sound rung throughout the house he was reminded as to his predicament. Damon stood shaking of fear, he waited all of an hour before he walking his hooves making a hard clopping sound on the house hardwood floors.
He ventured to walk along the bedroom hallway, as go down the stairs, walking on four legs, hooves, and needing to keep his body balanced as he moved going down the carpeted steps. At last he was on flat floors again. Damon moving around, ambling along, he brushed against living room chairs, a sofa, as he thought to leave the house and go outside where the spaces were wide and he would feel freedom.
"I best get outside, this is no place for a bull," thought Damon. The rear steps were another small problem, but after that his cloven hooves dug into soft earth. Walking again with ease, Damon began pondering what to do, where to go, he walking in in circles, was acting akin to being an animal who could not decide where to go. As his human self thought for a direction the bovine part of his changing mind suggested he find food.
The night was leaving as the early rays of sunshine were cresting in the eastern sky. The thought of morning hit the thought processes of a young man turned into a brute bovine farm bull and an animal. Damon became alert to his situation again. Looking around he was still on the backyard lawn, as he realized during his time of thoughts he had spent four hours grazing mindlessly as a bull. His feelings of a full stomach helped Damon to decide his direction to go, he had an urge to be with his own kind.
He wandered most of the daytime until his big nose sniffed the rank-to-sour smell of cows, females, something his loins were bothering him to find. His looking brought Damon in the direction of the huge Killingsworth ranch, as he stood then on the outside of a pasture fence, wishing he were more agile to leap it.