James was pottering around the cabin's kitchen, stomach and mouth grumbling in equal measure. Tired of waiting for his mother and father to return, he was taking matters into his own hands.
James had spent the last two hours exercising in the bedroom. Rep after rep, routine after routine. It was the best thing he could do to get his mind off the strangeness of his situation. Trapped in a cabin, in the middle of nowhere, with a tail...
Absentmindedly he scratched where it pressed against his pants. His mouth tightened into a line.
"Fuckin' weird..." he muttered again.
At least the larder was fully stocked, he thought. All that exercise had given him some serious hunger pangs, hence why he was frying up a big pan of bacon, eggs, and sausages. Plenty protein to help him grow.
Idly pushing the sizzling bits of meat around the pan he lamented his situation again. Would that Melissa was here with him. She's know what to do, how to get out and fix his back. She always knew what to do when they were together, one of the many reasons he loved her. That and her tight...
James shook his head. Now was not the time.
*THUNK* - the front door.
James's head shot up.
"MOM? DAD?"
A pause.
"JUST ME HONEY!", it was his Mother, she sounded out of breath. It was quickly followed with. "JUST POPPING TO THE SHOWER! IS YOUR FATHER BACK?"
"NO" James replied. He made for the door to the hall, but by the time he opened it his mother had already made her way to the master bedroom and shut the door behind her. He was confused. Why weren't they coming back together?
Another door creaked open. This one from the living room. The red, flushed, tired looking face of his sister peeked through the crack.
"Oh hey Jess. Want some grub? Am making a fry." He offered, trying to be cheery.
She shook her head, annoyed, "No thanks". The door shut again and he heard a lock bolt shut.
"Fuckin' hell... No one wants to talk in this house." His leg and tail twitched in his pants uncomfortably. "Probably for the best." He added. He paused for a moment, sniffing the air...
"Fuckin' disgusting, what is that... Smells like goats cheese gone bad or something."
---------------------
Now in the bedroom, door locked, Joan quickly evaluated her options.
First things first. Privacy. A few quick steps and she made it across the room, flinging curtains closed as she did so, casting the room into a gloom.
Next, the clothes. They had to go. She tore off again, across the hardwood, hooves *Clip-clopping* as she did.
A solid 40 minutes of walking on them and she was now managing to balance properly on them, without pitching forward or back. Overall, without them, she knew she still wouldn't have made it back with how blistered her feet were. That didn't make it any easier to swallow though.
Now in the bathroom her hoof hit tiles, and slid for a moment.
"Shit!" she exclaimed. Grabbing a towel rail to catch herself. These things were not designed for ceramic tiles. She grabbed a towel and threw it into the middle of the floor and gingerly stepped onto it. It held.
"Better" she breathed. Wasting no time in case Henry returned she pulled off her pullover, then her top, then her bra and flung them all into the shower. Next she shuffled the towel to the toilet, sat down, and extracted herself from her cold, wet, pants and warm wet panties.
*Kak*... She coughed again. Holding her nose to not inhale any of the awful, wonderful, disgusting tangy smell.
"HrrraaaaAHHH" she half-bellowed in anger, shaking her head to dispel the smell.
With venom she flung the pants and panties into the shower basin after her other clothes. She shuffled the towel over and grabbed the shower nozzle with one hand, turning it on first. With the other she grabbed a bottle of shower gel upending and squeezing it over the filthy pile of clothes.
This would take a while.
---------------
Some 30 minutes later Joan was finally done. Her clothes and body were washed as best she could manage. Only a very faint whiff of the musty, tangy, smell remained. You had to press the damp clothes to your face to smell it at all.
Radiators in the room provided a place to hang the damp clothes. But for now Joan needed backups. More importantly, she needed new shoes to hide her feet.
Reluctantly she opened one of the large walnut wardrobes in the master bedroom. She gasped. The thing was filled with gorgeous dresses.
"Jackpot!" she grinned.
Her fingers ran from garment to garment, lightly caressing the fabric. She looked down, grinning. The bottom was filled with knee high boots. This couldn't be more perfect.
"Even better!" she grinned.
--------------
Two rooms away Jess's crisis hadn't abated.
Naked she stood in the middle of the locked room. After an hour of sobbing she picked herself up. Determined for one last check, to confirm what the journal said. That sex would turn them into animals, and more importantly, that stopping before orgasm would reverse any change.
Standing fully upright now took a lot of effort, the pulling on her back and shoulders was already starting to ache. As large as watermelons, her new burgeoning breasts hung obscenely from her chest topped with saucer sized areola and thick nipples. Her pink tail tipped with her auburn bush flicked behind her. She could see the unhappiness on her face in the mirror in front of her.
"For science" she joked, with mirth.
A hand dropped to her meaty lips, cupping the soft flesh. She held it there for a few moments, gently pressing, just feeling the pulse.
She didn't feel particularly horny right now. Self-loathing and fear were far stronger emotions. But she would persevere.
She flexed her hand, pressing gently and releasing. Pressing and releasing. Pressing and...
There it was. She felt a pang of pleasure.
She pulled her hand away and began checking her body. Twisting and turning.
Nothing.
She hadn't really done anything to be fair. Reluctantly she lowered her hand again.
Motions repeated, she went a little longer, until her lips began to tingle, and she could feel some moisture building on her slit.
She kept her hand in place this time. And started looking around her body. Still nothing.
Her middle finger slipped in, then ring, curling and stretching. Her head still swivelled, she could see nothing. Though... maybe.
There!
She could see in the mirror, on her belly. A patch. More pink than her pale skin. And another.
She trembled, but persevered for a moment. Was it a cow. Was it definitely a cow?
She pulled her hand back and circled her clit with her eyes fluttering shut. God how nice it would be to just keep going. She really wanted to already. But last time...
Her eyes opened and her hand pulled away.
"No...." she moaned. She could see four thumb sized nipples. Four teats. Shrinking slowly back into her belly, until only pale smooth skin remained. "A cow... I'm going to be a big stupid fat cow." she lamented. She was. And James was probably going to be a horse. But mum. Mum and Dad. Maybe she could warn them.