With your cup of still steaming coffee in hand you made the turn that took you underneath the red stone archway welcoming you to The Pioneer Pasture. You remembered ordering an overpriced steak lunch from the saloon during your first day here, but the slight aftertaste of hey and manure made you immediately regret it. Since then it was packed and pre-prepared meals. Almost had to pity those poor parents forced to eat here after their kids worked up an appetite feeding all the ponies and rabbits at the petting zoo.
An old time-y church part of the scenery also helped draw a consistent crowd. Various youth faith groups organized sleepovers and events over the weekends here. This latest batch had been about teaching abstinence to adult teens, and those in their early twenties. Fun crowd and not as uptight as you could’ve guessed reading the pamphlet. At the tail-end of your shift yesterday they managed to rope you into helping set up the saloon dance stage for their theater production. Really close-knit.
The youth pastor, Samuel-something, yawned before giving you tired smile and threw a jealous, bleary-eyed, look at your coffee cup when you passed him by. “Mornin’ Chris. Any chance you’ve seen some of my lost flock around? Guessin’ their beds didn’t swallow them up.” You couldn’t imagine anyone willingly going up at this ungodly early morning hour, but promised to tell him if you saw anything. Everything should be locked down, so they couldn’t have gotten anywhere strange or where they shouldn’t be.
You returned to your morning routine and went into automatic: Enter the employee side-door of the barnyard. Find the locker. Put phone in the front pocket. Squeeze into the cleaning coverall. Finish the coffee. Rubber boots. Rubber gloves. Fiddle with the headphones because you wore the gloves first. Tune out the podcasters introducing themselves.
Ugh, they were talking about the Furry Virus hoax.
Shaking out of the trance and frowning, you were just about to the skip the episode when a raucous moo-ing coming from the stalls rumbled through the building. Like nothing you had heard before. Sounded pained, however, and that made you rush. Coming closer the wafting but potent scent of blood and flesh had your heart skipping and thumping hard. Your mind raced trying to figure out where the nearest first aid kit was as you simultaneously searched your memory for the Zoo veterinarian’s number.
None of that mattered. In fact, the first thing you felt was silly thinking some bandage could patch up the chunk of flesh missing from Samuel’s neck. You wanted to puke. Scream. Anything except helplessly watch the youth pastor pressing one of his teen charges’ face down into the concrete floor with a hoove-like hand while thrusting a flared and mottled cock through the torn clothes into their ass. Samuel moo-ed again, sounding far less agonized and instead triumphant. You caught his wound healing and re-knitting itself before it was swallowed up by a sea of brown and leathery fur.
Every thrust also brought moans from the teen. Turning more and more eager until they were raising and shaking their ass like an animal in heat. Loving the way Samuel’s increasing bulk let the pastor put more force into his rutting. Despite everything your cock was hardening while your nostrils filled with transforming bull’s pheromones and eardrums with that of sex. The pair of horns that shot out of his forehead seconds afterwards stood as erect as your manhood. Giving in, you stroked its length through the coverall as your other hand found the zipper.
The rustle of your clothes seemed to be enough to catch Samuel’s attention. Half of his face were marred with gouging claw marks. Instead of healing fully, they left scars running down the bovine muzzle his face was reshaping itself into. One of his eyes was entirely milky white but burrowed just the same into your quivering soul. “A fresh piece of meat to feed the flock.” Samuel’s hooves closed around the neck of the person beneath him and they were unceremoniously thrown into one of the pens like a ragdoll. You could hear bones breaking by the force of the impact. “If they're strong they will survive.”
While kneeling the Minotaur had already been massive, but as he rose to his full ten feet of height his shadow had already reached your feet. His semi-erect cock continued to drip with cum. A handful of strides was all that separated him from you.