Earlier that day....
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Susan woke up before the sun rose. Such is the life of a country girl. She had been employed by Terry Smith to tend to his dozen hens. It was thoughtless work. But so are all first-jobs a young adult might aspire to. Susan climbed into her hand-me-down, beater, pick-up truck that her father bought for her. She fumbled with its antiquated, manual transmission and left for Terry's ranch.
The sun was cresting over the fields when Susan arrived. She was late. Terry could be a hardass, sometimes. But he had good intentions. Susan briskly rustled over to the chicken coup. Maybe, Terry hadn't noticed her absence yet. She opened the barn door and got to work.
Susan had a set of tasks. First, she had to gather any eggs that had been layed overnight, check for any ailments, and clean out the poop. Chicken where such weird creatures, Susan thought. They had one hole for everything. Urine, fetes, and eggs all exited from the same hole. She had given all the hens names, even though Terry had been apathetic to the concept. There was Becky, Vanessa, Dasher, Fox, Gigi, Henrietta, Gem, Dandy, Mary, Falcon, Salt, and Pepper.
She was checking Dandy's nest when and unknown urge came over her. Her eyes glazed over, and she turned to face the roost. The hens hopped out of their cubbies and gathered in front of Susan's, unthinking body. She dropped her worn pants and panties to the ground. The dozen hens all charged at Susan. The combined force of their attack knocked her to the ground. Susan did not react. She caught her fall and let the fevered birds pick at her pussy.
Gem was the first, her narrow avian head slipped into Susan's body. It flapped its wings to drive forward. Susan's vagina stretched unnaturally wide, and the healthy hen merged with its new host. A different chicken, Falcon, dove into Susan's rear. Her rectum bended to accommodate its new occupant and her anus morphed into something it was not. The remaining, ten hens pecked at Susan's nether region. Instead of tearing Susan's supple skin, they merged with it and added their mass to Susan's expanding hips.
Susan blinked and was suddenly confused. She didn't remember falling over. So, she didn't know why she was on the ground. She reasoned that she must have hit the ground very hard. Susan attempted to stand up. It wasn't an easy task with her extremely pear-shaped body. She wrapped her arms around a nearby support column and pulled herself up. Susan did not understand how unreal her body had become.
Her hips had ballooned in every direction. The combine mass of twelve, plump chickens had fused with her and transformed to chicken-sized cloaca. Twelve, avian holes where uneven spread out between her legs. Her thighs had been spread apart to make room for the extra mass. Her thigh-gap was as wide as a microwave and her nethers were as large as a mini-fridge. Her feet had transformed into giant, chicken feet that did a better job of distributing her weight than her human would have. Her reproductive and digestive tracks changed to match the input and output requirements of a dozen chickens.
Dusting herself off, Susan got back to work. The interior of the hen house had changed. Instead of cabinets that would have housed hens, there was now a single, large nest for Susan to rest her legs in. Susan approached her feeding trough. She had to eat a lot of feed to meet Terry's high expectations of her. She grabbed a spoon and got to work eating the gallon of oats that Terry had provided for her.
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Later that day, Terry came to let Susan out of her pen. Susan stretched and inhaled the fresh air and felt the warm sun on her naked skin. She rested outside for a while. Until something unusual caught her eye. Kyle, the Perkins' mare was here. Stranger still, he was wearing clothes. Susan shook her head and wondered why a horse would be wearing clothes. Then, she went back to her sunbathing.
Kyle, on the other hand, was very much confused by Susan's extreme physiology. Susan was huge! From what Kyle could see, she had at least 7, haphazardly placed, chicken holes littering her bottom half. He felt really bad for her. Kyle never considered that this would be the repercussions for his actions. His heart slammed into the bottom of his stomach. He had to make things up to Jen somehow and set things right.
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"Who? And how?" Jen asked Kyle.
"It's that farm-hand girl," Kyle responded. "What's her name?"
"Susan?"
"That's it. I don't know what happened to her. It's like she had fused with a dozen or so chickens."
"Really?" Jen was shocked. "Is she okay?
"Yeah. She seemed fine to me. She is still in the yard. Just, soaking up sun like nothing was wrong."
"I'll believe it when I see it."