"This is it," Jeff couldn't help thinking to himself, a giddy grin creeping across his square jaw as he crossed over from one world into one as-of-yet unconquered. Already, his mind overflowed with headlines above newspaper photos of him, his achievements, and the world grovelling before said achievements; 'Jeff Smith Receives Multi-Billion Dollar Grant for Unprecedented Breakthrough in Quantum Physics,' 'Jeff Smith, World's First Inter-Dimensional Entrepreneur,' and 'Jeff Smith, Trillionaire Before 25' being among the first few.
All of those dreams lit up his eyes brighter than the noonday sunshine on the other side of the portal ('Einstein-Rosenberg Bridge,' he reminded himself; have to sound eloquent for the reporters and investors). If he'd been paying attention to what was actually happening beneath his feet, perhaps he wouldn't have been quite so shocked as what was happening TO his feet.
The moment Jeff's professional athletic grade running shoes hit the lush grassy hillside, they felt a size or so too large. A step later, and Jeff nearly stumbled. By his third step, Jeff found himself tumbling to the ground and leaving his shoes behind, socks slipping off increasingly tiny, hardening, darkening nubs that could hardly be called feet any longer.
He gasped as his arms that should have reacted with perfect reflexes to catch his fall as well as they did any football instead moved too slowly, earning him a green scuff across his polo shirt and a bizarre... Well, not quite pain in his arms, but a sensation of pulling, burning muscles like the most overdue stretch ever after a grueling workout on the field.
"What the hell?" Jeff growled, though it would've been more accurate to say that he 'snorted,' a mighty huff of hot air belting out of widening nostrils in a face pushing forward into a broadening muzzle. "What the hell?!"
Jeff barely had time to turn around and catch sight of the last vestige of humanity left in his feet melting away, now hardening and shrinking into what could only be described as cloven hooves, his ankles stretching further back as bones realigned themselves into a higher-stepped configuration. Jeff's wider, wetter nose soon took his attention as it jutted into a newly permanent fixture of his lower peripheral vision, another angry snort devolving into a panicked, "What's happening to m-OOO-?!"
Jeff clapped his hands across a mouth that now stretched to either side of his new facial protrusion, front teeth flattening and broadening to mimic the molars at his back while an intense craving for leafy greens tickled his thickening, broadening tongue. Images of steak and burgers and ground beef flit through his mind, thoughts unbidden, what was once a deductible source of protein for bulking up turning repugnant and horrifying in his mind's eye. Jeff even found himself tasting bile at the back of his throat as every last love of tacos and beef sausages reformed against his will into visions of salads and succulent fruits and thick tubers, some of which looked suspiciously and alluringly like--
Jeff's cheeks caught crimson fire as he shouted, "No-OOO-o way do-OOO-o I like--"
He didn't have time to finish as his own 'tuber' twitched excitedly in his trousers, designer jeans quickly feeling far tighter, then too small, then painfully constricting as his hips rammed themselves away from one another, thighs thickening with a mixture of soft, supple flesh and firm muscle to dwarf anything he ever had as a university athlete. Rich, creamy, chocolatey-brown fur in varying shaded patches erupted from his flesh, Jeff's restructured calves involuntarily forcing him back to his feet--hooves?--while the rest of his legs took on a decidedly more feminine--no, womanly--nay, motherly thickness.
"This isn't happening," Jeff whispered to himself, voice climbing the octaves the more visions of and cravings for sweet, slowly-chewed vegetables took root in his mind, the more his lower body resembled a cartoonishly exaggerated mishmash of ample-bottomed babe and bipedal bovine. "I'm not a co-OOO-ow!"
Scientifically minded or not, the results did not seem to favor Jeff's theories. With a mighty RRRIPPP, his hundreds-plus-dollar jeans admitted defeated to plump thighs with a layer of toned muscle lurking just beneath the surface, hips that could bear a child and a half and a ballooning ass that could put apple-bottoms to more shame than watermelon-rumps ever could.
All the while, those thoughts, desires, DEMANDS for sweet grass and sweeter things that would be the one kind of meat left he'd crave all grew more thick and lush in Jeff's mind than any forest. He felt hot and sweaty, and not just from the fur creeping up past his lower bits to smash inwards his waist even as his overall size grew in height and frame and bulk. Carrots and potatoes and even the mighty roots of towering trees all shifted in Jeff's minds eye into an overpowering desire--a NEED--for the sort of thick, filling, wonderfully satisfying throbbing monster that still lurked between his thighs, though not for much longer. As Jeff's thunderous thighs crushed softly and then firmly against his dick, so positively painful from a hard-on that simply refused to release, his penis instead sank back and then INTO his pelvis.
"No-OOO-o!" Jeff whimpered as his increasingly furry, fluffy cheeks burned with blush, reaching down to hold on for dear life to his exposed and receding member. His arms--indeed, his whole body, it seemed--once again reacted too slowly for his liking, but all the more powerfully, grasping as his dick with more force than he'd intended. Nevertheless, the shrinking, retreating member slid out all the same from fingers that snapped together and merged into stiffening, thickening amalgamations of hands and hooves, two dark, bony fingers left behind on either hand alongside a crude thumb-like appendage.
"Ho-OOO-ow am I supposed to-OOO-o grab a bull's nice meaty cock with these?" Jeff whimpered once more with his increasingly high-pitched and drawn-out voice, only to mentally correct himself with a shout of, "I meant grab a fo-OOO-otball, not a--" the last inches of his shaft shoved with a pulse back up inside, prompting a colossal, shuddering moan "--bull's nice--" the engorged, painfully purple head of Jeff's dick ducked inside forming folds in a firm, puffy mound, already slick with hot, wet juices "--meaty--" the remnants of Jeff's manhood shrunk and reformed into a clit as his new vaginal canal suddenly and rapidly contracted, desperately shuddering open and closed for something it craved but wasn't there "--Co-OOO-ck! Oh, OH! OOOHH!!"
A wave of pleasure crashed over and within Jeff's body and mind as he experienced his first female orgasm, which kept crashing and crashing, never quite cresting its ultimate peak until it crushed the final ruins of Jeff's denial that he was NOT turning into an incredibly horny female bovine creature craving a thick, loving bull to ram inside him and hold him and love him and crash the skulls of their enemies together and have so many beautiful calves.
So absorbed was Jeff in the afterglow--and flow, the grass now soaked with his feminine juices--that he hardly noticed his ears stretching out from a thick mop of growing locks, soon accompanied by two horns. Instead, Jeff simply fell back into the grass hillside, his plump rump cushioning his fall even as his once-firm pectoral muscles softened and felt puffier and puffier. His cloven hoof-hands grabbed at swelling chest-flesh, feeling nipples stretching and lengthening as all those years of bulking up his chest to tackle other football players converted into fat and grew big, bigger, BIGGER.
"I'm gro-OOO-owing breasts," Jeff moaned, or moo'd, he wasn't even sure which anymore. "I'm a thick-ass buff cow lady, I grew a foot or so taller, and I'm gro-OOO-owing a giant pair of tits. Tits that would be larger than any girl back at school--larger than any of their HEADS. And I want a bull-man to stick his mega-dick so deep inside my cow-pussy that I can feel him ramming my other organs. What... The absolute... What?!"
By the time Jeff's breasts stopped expanding, his precious pricey polo in tattered ribbons, his chest somewhere around the range of over-ripe watermelons, or perhaps beach balls, he sat up. He felt his new bosom bouncing and tugging heavily at his collar bone and under his armpits. Was he really even a 'he' anymore? Sure, he was still Jeff, no matter what this freaky other world did to him, or made him want to do to and with bull-men, but he got the feeling that a busty bovine body, a vegetarian diet, and a hard-on (panty-soak?) for bull-men wasn't all that this place had done to him. His body was stronger than he'd ever been as a human football star, even if it seemed slower to react (inertia, perhaps, or some abstract oddity of his rewired neurons?). The churning in his belly made him think he was growing more than the four stomachs cows were known to have, probably some other bits to compliment the new wet slit between his full thighs. And his mind... Veggies and bull-men aside, he felt other bits twisting and changing, no matter how he tried to simply will them backwards towards normalcy.
A new moniker overlay itself across his name, 'Jeff Smith' not forgotten, but not seeming to fit anymore, not nearly as much as 'Jaw-Cracker.' Even referring to himself as 'him'-self anymore didn't feel right, even if 'he' knew it was just more of this fantasy land messing with 'his' mind. 'Her' mind, now. The mind of Jaw-Cracker, minotauress.
"Jaw-Cracker," she said, rolling the words around on her broad tongue. "Strongest minotaur in the land. Warrior who breaks bones with her breasts. Who's really hungry for some of this grass. And... As much as I hate to say it..."
So she didn't. Unable to finish her sentence, Jaw-Cracker instead merely squeezed her full thighs tightly together against her warming, wetting, already-hungry-again pussy.