The Cabin, knowing full well what kind of activities would be carried out in it, was well soundproofed. All the while that the twins were making a commotion, their mother, Joan, remained blissfully unaware.
In her room she had trialled on several dresses; each, in her mind, more glamorous than the last. Horrible transformations aside, whomever lived in this Cabin had excellent taste in clothes. And now that her own clothes were soaking wet, and handing from a radiator, well, she had no choice but to borrow something. In the end she had gone with a shin length dress, black with floral patterns. It hugged her figure, made it seem slimmer than her middle age would have suggested. Most importantly though the fabric was bunched and folded around her lower back and bum, easily disguising her short stubby tail.
To hide her hooves, Joan had take a pair of knee high boots, stuffed the front of the foot with socks, and slipped her legs into it. The zip, belts and laces all the way up her leg held the boot in place even as she walked. Initially unsteady, Joan was currently walking around the room, trying to learn how to walk in a way that made her look normal. At this stage, she was no longer unsteady, and instead just looked like someone, walking rigidly, like they had something in their shoe, or was suffering some sort of foot pain.
She was, however, running out of energy. Even with hooves replacing her blistered feet, she had been walking all day and was finally beat.
"Ssssss." she hissed, painfully from between clenched teeth as she finishing another run up and down the bedroom. She'd been back over an hour now, and still no sign of her husband. She was quite worried about him. Though not known to frequent the area, it was always possible that a black bear, or perhaps wolves had had an encounter with him. Or even a fall that took him out of commission.
Much longer, Joan reasoned, and she would have to go out again in search of him, and she knew that she was far to exhausted to manage that effectively.
Figuring that a quick rest was in order she unlocked the door to her room, in case Henry came back, then flopped down on the bed, legs hanging off the side, and stared at the ceiling. She wondered, idly, how her kids were filling the time upstairs.
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Jess, at this time was frantically wiping her brothers semen from her tits, her belly and her face. A towel from a wardrobe was the best she could find, with no access to the bathroom. The drying residue left her skin feeling tight, sticky and flaky. Spitting on the towel she tried to add some lubrication, but it was no use. She knew without a shower she'd have no hope of getting rid of the feeling or in general feeling clean.
James was unresponsive in the bathroom. Apart from a grunt and a growl to let him be alone, Jess hadn't heard a peep from him. Though mortified, and distraught, she'd accepted what had happened for what it was; a product of this place. Her mind wasn't letting her dwell on it. Instead she wanted to get things right this time. Her parents needed to be warned, and she would do it.
Once dry, Jess's search led her to try on new clothes, borrowed from the Cabin. Surprisingly quickly, she found a large baggy white blouse, and a pair of three-quarter length dungarees that fit her modified frame. How anyone would have measurements like this on hand made her suspicious that this place was the culprit. On her feet she slipped a pair of open toed sandals.
Thie biggest, and bravest choice, she had made with the clothes, however, was deciding to show her tail. Cutting a slit in the back of the dungarees, she threaded her tail through it, letting it dangle free behind her. The last thing she wanted to have to do in front of her mother was pull down her pants to show her her tail. This way she could "show and tell" more safely. If truth be told though, Jess did enjoy the feeling of her tail being out far more than when it had been uncomfortably squashed between her ass cheeks and stuffed down a pant leg.
Not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer she took off, calling to her brother that she would be back later, that she was sorry for what had happened, and that they would talk when he was ready. A sorrowful grunt was all she got in reply.
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Joan, during this time had begun to drift off. Waves of tiredness and lethargy were crashing over her. Part of her brain railed against the encroaching sleep, determined to stay awake, in place and in the room. Eyes rolling she took in the room. Things were fuzzy, out of focus. Though, they were as they should have been, so, Joan reasoned she must be awake still. There was the bed, the pillow, the ceiling, the painting supplies in the corner, the hanging painting depicting a scene from a midsummer nights dream, the picture of the brawny hairy man, phallus hard, pointing straight up. Grinning at her. Winking.
Yes, Joan's mind reasoned, that was normal. She was still waiting on the bed. Maybe the man would know when Henry was coming home.
"Hey Sir. Do you know where my husband is?" she asked, voice sounding like it was travelling through water. He turned his body to more face her, muscles rippling under all his hair. He opened his mouth, voice like a rumble of rocks, coming from all around.
"Why do you want him home?" The man asked, smiling with pearly white teeth.
Joan looked around. What kind of a stupid question was that? Henry was her husband. They were supposed to be together. to live together, to share a bed together.
"We share a bed" she replied, voice now echoing. Her mind drifted for a moment, wondering why her voice was echoing in such a small room. Strange acoustics she figured in the end. What was happening again?
That's right! She was staying up. Waiting for Henry to get back to share her bed. And she was talking to a man... must have been Henry.
He was back!
"Henry! Come share this bed!" She mouthed at the man who was Henry, in the painting. Where he always was. Henry man smiled. He looked a lot less exhausted than she thought he'd be.
"I'll share your bed" Henry painting replied.
"Good" she smiled happily, she was feeling good. "I've had the strangest day honey. First I saw a donkey that had clothes, then it masturbated, then I masturbated to the smell of my pussy. It smelt awful. I kinda liked it thought. Then we went on that walk, then I smelled my pee. That also smelled awful. But I masturbated again anyway and peed all over myself. Then I grew hooves to help me come home. What about you? How are you?". All of the words seemed to fall out of her mouth at once.
Henry was standing now. Walking. She could see him reclining on the bed in the painting, her bed. She turned her head, to see him lying there beside her, naked and hairy.
"I'm tired honey, all this walking has worn me out. I think your hooves look wonderful, and that tail! Seeing you like this has made me hard though. Can you help me?" He pointed down at his rock hard phallus.
That seemed easy, Joan thought. She wanted to do something nice for him for being so understanding. She went to grab it. Her hand passed through it. That's odd. It rarely did that!
"No honey, here!" Henry's hand guided her to the penis. The other one. His smaller one. The one she was minding under her dress for him. "That's the one!" He repeated.
She nodded in understanding. Of course it was that one. She's meant to grab that one. She wasn't stupid!
Joan held his tiny other non-painting penis between her thumb and forefinger. It was always cute, this penis. Carefully she pulled she foreskin back, revealing the tiny little dick.
"Oh Joan. I like that. It feels good." Henry rumbled. Joan knew he liked it, she could feel it too. Because she was minding this one for him.
"You need to make it bigger though." He insisted. Joan agreed. She knew how to make her husband's penis bigger. You had to stroke it. So stroke it she did. The movement in her hand was careful at first. She didn't want to damage it. She gauged the right amount of pressure by how she could feel it building a pleasant feeling in her gut.
"There now!" She said, happy that the feeling was good, that Henry would be able to enjoy that.
"And look at that honey! It's growing!" Henry smiled. She looked down at the pudgy pale hairless penis in her hand.
"It *is* growing!" she happily reported back. Henry kissed her cheek. "I'm so proud of you!" He whispered in her ear. She giggled sheepishly in response.
He sniffed a little. "Honey... what's that smell?", he asked. She blushed. "That's the smell from earlier. The smell of my pee. Isn't it awful?"
Henry shook his head. "I love it!" he countered. She nodded. "I love it too!" She agreed. She thought about it. "I think I want it on me?" She said, unsure, hand now pumping like mad. "I liked it last time".
Henry nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds like a great idea!"
Joan pushed, but Henry's penis wasn't letting her wee. "Hey Henry, you have to let me wee!" she pointed at the penis.
"Use your other hole." He offered, shrugging. "That'll work." she agreed. And raised her hips, penis flopping on to her belly, and letting her bladder empty onto the bed. The smell came back in full force. "See! Awful!" Joan started. "Sexy!" Henry added. "...and Sexy" Joan agreed after a moment consideration. "I think I'd get any nanny goat I wanted with this." Joan said. "I think you're right." Henry nodded understandingly.
Joan paused to relish the feeling that Henry's penis was having in her hand, along with the smell of goaty musk. A few more strokes and she began writhing and moaning.
"I think I would like it if you put it in your mouth honey" Henry suggested. Joan raised an eyebrow. Henry tried to look innocent. "You'd be closer to the smell!" he offered.
He was right there. So Joan sat up, the room spun too much, then came back. She'd have to fix that wonky bed later.
"Hi Jess!" Joan said to her daughter. She could see her now standing in the open doorway of the room. It was weird, she was very fuzzy, out of focus. Maybe Joan would have to get an eye test. Glasses would suit her, she decided. Like this penis that Henry had lent her. She returned to it.
A call came from the fuzzy Jess corner, echoed, "W-what-at a-are you you doing-g-g? Mom-om".
Henry said. "Stroking my new penis!", she had to answer too. "Yeah, stroking my new penis!" She mmm'd. Penis. It felt real good now. Bet it'd be yummy. She opened her mouth and strained for it. She couldn't reach though. She was in the way of Henry's new penis.
Fuzzy Jess was being loud somewhere. Insisting that she stop, that the penis would stay forever if she came, that she'd be a goat soon. That was ridiculous though, she wasn't going to cum. Henry was. This was his. "What do you think" She asked her husband.
"I think she's being rude. If you wanna turn into a goat you can turn into a goat." He advised her. He seemed so sensible. "You're right" She agreed.
"Let your mother cum daddy and turn into a goat in peace!" She turned back to goat Henry. Hairy in his painting. Square pupils regarding her. Henry's lovely muzzle opening and closing, telling her she was doing a great job. That he felt great. She felt great too. A welling deep in her tummy.
"Yummy goat cu-u-u-um" Henry bleated. Opening his muzzle and motioning for Joan to suck.
"Yummy, yummy goat cummy! Cummy in my tum-ungh..." Joan rhymed back happily, as Jess shouted at a wall. She was cumming with Henry's penis now. Henry would be delighted it worked
"Hnngh... c-c-ummm. Mmm, hnnnghh" She snorted, straining for the penis as roped all over her face. Some catching in her mouth.
"F-fff, mmm-yum, goat..." She mumbled. Henry patted her back, and then began stroking it with his hoof. "Good job sweetie!" he cooed. "It think you deserve a rest now." his voice was increasingly further away now. Like he was in his painting again. Which made sense. Lying back on the bed and curling up in her blanket, Joan smacked her lips, licking her husbands residue from them. Good job, she thought, patting the penis. Thanks for letting me borrow this. Was her last thought as she let deep sleep overwhelm her.
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"Too late..." Jess whispered to herself in horror. "Too late mom!"
She had entered the room to find her mother, sitting up on the bed, dress pulled up, wet patch in front of her, revealing a short tail and straining to suck her own penis. She seemed drunk, or drugged. Not fully with it. And only giving garbled, strange answers to Jess's calls and pleas.
Knowing how the curse worked Jess was forced to watch as her own mother, now with a pudgy hairless cock, came all over her own face, then fell back, asleep, with a happy grin on her face, penis now locked in forever.
Fuck this place. Fuck this curse.
She looked down at the journal. Anger was rising again. Frustration. Why give me this info if I'm too late to do anything with it!? She thought.
Storming out, she left her mother curled up on the bed. From the living room she could see the gentle flicker of the fire she had lit earlier, now dwindled to embers.
Fuck this book. She thought.
A quick trip brought her to the fireplace as she flung the journal into the embers. As it cracked and crackled she gave it the finger.
"Fat lot of good you were to me Anita Kowalski! Hope you enjoy being a cougar..."
Feeling the catharsis of removing something frustrating from her life Jess allowed herself a wry grin.
*Click*
Her head wheeled, that was the front door. "DAD" she called, realising there was one more person in this house with them. She tore into the hall as quickly as she could only to collide with her grumbling father in the growing twilight.
Tumbling both fell over, with Jess landing prone on top of her father.
"Bloody H-mmm!" Henry had began to call, when his daughter's hand shot up to cover his mouth. In her sternest voice he heard the words.
"Listen carefully Dad. Yes or no only. Do you have a tail?"