Three months is how long it took to get everything in order after you made a down payment on the Future Farms modpack. A lot of it was waiting, but there was still a surprising amount of footwork and preparation needed. Then again, this was a pretty huge change.
First, you’d gone through the different fur coats, playing with the idea of keeping your human upper body, turning it female, or going full fur like the default was set at. Every time you tried to stick with a human half, you just felt too small compared to your lower body. You tried a muscular version of yourself, as well as a bull fur, but was told that those muscles would decay from disuse, or you’d need to do enough gym work to keep them.
On top of that, you’d still be blatantly female everywhere below the waistline. In the end, you went with a larger frame to get the right size without needing tons of muscle, and female to match the top with the bottom. Keeping the top human after making those changes gave you some uncanny valley vibes since it still held a lot of your male features, so you washed them away by going full fur. It’d be weird to be a cow lower body and some other animal upper body, so you stuck with cow.
It ended up looking a lot like the default, though you scaled back the tits from being monstrously oversized and the species wasn’t that black-and-white holstein pattern, since that’d catch too many eyes in a city. You decided on a simple brown with minimal ability to clash with itself.
After your modpack was locked in, you then needed to go through all the regulatory hoops. Get a drug test, sign all the health and safety waivers, provide DNA samples to your credit company so you don’t get locked out of your accounts due to DNA modification, provide more DNA samples to the government so they can check any criminal cases, and go through the DMV to get your certifications updated for the new body type. The worst part was that half of it didn’t really matter and you’d need to do it again right after the change, but they fined you for doing it only after the fact.
Then there was the optional stuff that was effectively mandatory, like dumping most of your pants to make space for type 3 barding and modifying your apartment’s furniture with heavyweight, taur-friendly designs. The taur-model bidet was the most costly addition, but it was the only thing that could handle your new weight class. You couldn’t replace your shower due to size constraints, but the relief station had something faster and capable of solo-use.
The highlight of these three months was the physical prep courses, which had you going into the VR to practice general activities in your new form. Future Farms had set up a series of tutorials on things like walking, getting dressed, correctly hooking yourself up to the relief station, and getting a better understanding of how much you’d end up weighing. Apparently, weighing nearly a ton meant that a lot of things that your instincts told you to dodge weren’t really necessary, and the act of dodging could be dangerous to yourself and others. With that said, you weren’t going to be stopping cars without personal injury, so there was some training on how to move quickly.
The wildest part of the training was when it went into how your internals were set up. The main purpose of this course was to give you a better idea of what might be hurt when injured or feeling pain from any given location. Apparently, you were going to be a mix of 4 different animals internally, all carefully hooked together to make one working digestive tract. Your intestines filled almost the entirety of your lower body, way more than a cow would have. On the other extreme, your upper body was all heart, lungs, and stomach. This layout apparently offered the best of both worlds, where you could eat grass or leaves for nutrients, but you didn’t need to regurgitate the chewed mass like a cow would. Instead, it spends even more time in the intestines to leech the calories out.
You look at the New You parlor. It wasn’t the same one that you’d originally gone to as this was closer to your home, but it still held so much significance since you’d be walking out today as something else entirely.
You step in and approach the front desk. “I’m here for my 7:30 appointment.” You hated getting up this early, but extreme mods needed more time to fully form, and there was no way to get this modpack in separate installments. You’d called in sick today and you had the weekend to figure out how much additional stuff was needed. Hopefully, you wouldn’t need to call in sick Monday as well.
“Of course, sir. The doctor is ready and will see you shortly. Please take a seat.”
After a couple minutes, a man exited from the back area, though he looked a bit confused. “Ah, you’re the 7:30 FF modpack?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, follow me and we’ll have some final words for you. Once the operation is over, we’ll provide you with your side-by-side DNA cards as proof of identity. Be sure to keep one for yourself and send one to the DMV, so other businesses can verify your new identity.”
As you both enter the room, he clicks a button on his machine. “This is being recorded. Are you absolutely certain you want...Modpack 24-87-336? Here’s a recipe list and visual rendering.”
This was a no-brainer. “Yes.”
“Good. Do you understand that it is not possible to perfectly revert a genemod? In other words, physical or psychological injury can occur if you attempt to go back.”
That wasn’t too surprising. You saw a horror story or two about people getting a bad case of phantom limb after switching back to a bipedal form. “I understand, yes.”
“Have you informed friends, family, or coworkers about this change?”
You twitched. “Uh, no.”
That seems to jolt the doctor awake. “No one at all? It’s important to inform each of your social groups of the change so they know you’ll look different, especially with full-form mods like yours. People will sooner believe you’re an imposter that stole your certs. I recommend that you call some people and tell them about the impending procedure and your new form before the operation, as this will alter your voice.”
You feel your face grow red with embarrassment. “I’d rather not.”
He gives a pointed look, then breaks line of sight and waves off your comment. “It’s only a recommendation, there’s plenty of reasons you wouldn’t. You’ve been informed of the potential consequences, which is enough for our side.” He clicks the recording off. “Record-keeping is done, so now I’m giving you the final, final chance to step back. You understand that this operation will make you infertile, right? I know you signed the paperwork that says it, but a lot of people don’t read the paperwork.”
“Uh, yes.”
“Did you get a sample saved at a sperm bank for if you ever want to have kids?”
“Because reverting doesn’t bring back fertility, right? Yes, I did.”
“Good, you’ve done some research. Last, you understand that your body will be producing approximately 10 gallons of milk per day, right? You’ll need to eat way more than you do now, and you’ll need to get that milk out. Every. Single. Day..”
“Or else my risk of mastitis increases, and I can take suppressants to reduce my productivity for extended trips. Yes.”
The man glowered. “Well, it seems like you’re really going through with this. Oh, right.” He taps the recording back on. “This is to inform you that this modpack will leave you genetically unstable for a period of no less than 6 months, and gene modding during this time will almost certainly result in adverse reactions. Any additional questions or concerns?”
You’re practically giddy with the thought of finally having the form you’ve tried and practiced with for so long. “No, I’m ready.”
He turns off the recording once more, then takes a deep breath before handing you a mask. “Please lay down over there, then hold this mask to your face and breathe as you normally would.”
You do as asked and continue some small conversation as you wait for the gas to take effect. You can’t remember what was talked about as your next memory was waking up after the operation ended.