Munch. Munch, munch, munch. Joe knew his mouth had gotten really BIG. But even with the teeth to rip up grass and the big useful tongue to scoop it down his throat, he still felt like couldn't shovel the grass into his first great stomach chamber fast enough. Damn, he was still trying to fill up the first one? Is it true what that bossy high school bio teacher used to say about cows having four? All Joe knew was he still felt uncomfortably EMPTY. But still, one empty part of him no longer felt as empty as it had felt before. And with no job and no need for a job, and no real demands even from his magical kidnappers for him to do anything, Joe really had nothing better to do except keep crawl around here on his hands and feet and munching the green stuff.
But further down his huge digestive tract a needy fullness was building. Like his bladder not long ago, he knew it was getting ready to overflow. [I really should have used my restroom before I got kidnapped!] But Joe wasn't about stop eating now. He was too hungry! He got a strange new urge to lift his tail and felt it stiffen backwards out of the line of fire. His butt hole surprisingly felt bigger now. But not compared to what was coming out of him.
PLOP! .... PLOP! .... PLOP!
Joe didn't even look up from the grass he was eating. He was pretty sure the witches and wizards didn't look up either. His tail flopped down again and swished a couple of times. Munch, munch, munch ...
* My parents would have never let me stand here and take dump where I wanted or ignore everyone and stuff my face like hog. * -- Joe thought with another swallow. Another bite. Another swallow. -- * Screw them and their money. I'm glad I moved to Wyoming! *
Joe's feet felt funny but he didn't stop eating. He stood up on tiptoes and then felt his choose get tight. That got his attention.
MMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Some goopy long green half-chewed strands dropped impolitely from his mouth. The pain of his foot-bones stretching was nothing compared to the pain of his shoes holding them in!
Pop, pop, creeeEEEEEK ----- RRRRIP!
* Oh, good, the shoes are gone. But why don't I feel like I'm barefoot? *
Joe swung his blocky head back and looked back at what happened back there. His feet really were long! And most of their length wasn't on the ground. His ankles looked more like backwards knees than anything else. And the reason he couldn't seem to feel his toes in the grass is that his toes had managed to grow their own footwear. Two wide, massively swollen toe-like protrusions at the end of each large foot were serving as the root of a heavy, dark toenail he immediately recognized as an animal's hoof. He also could see his long dark tassel hanging just behind his massive scrotum in between those hefty hocks of his. And a brown goopy patty looking almost like a cow pie on the ground.
* Shoot, I'm really looking like a bull back there! Now what was I doing again? Oh yeah, GRASS! *
He dropped his snout back down to munch some more, but then he got a feeling in his hands!
* Aaah! There's stretching! Why can't I feel my thumbs? *
What was left of his thumbs shrank the rest of the way into his stretching palms, and Joe was left standing on four fingers that he tried to wiggle some feeling back into. But it was not to be. They stopped obeying his commands and soon began to shrink. His index and pinky fingers were soon nothing more than dewclaws, little thick-nailed bumps not even touching the ground anymore. The remaining nubs of his middle and ring fingers began to fatten, and any dreams his parents might have had for him to one-day wear a wedding ring were soon outgrown. His poorly manicured nails went through a growth spurt, and soon the hungry man was putting all his weight on nails alone.
* My, my hands.... * --- Joe thought wistfully, starting to grieve for the dexterity he'd lost. It started sinking in that he'd be looking down at a pair of clunky cloven HOOFS for the rest of his life, holding his weight so he could shove his face in the grass and fill his gaping tummy.
* I can't ... HOLD things, anymore? * -- No more TV remote. No more beer bottles. No more cigarettes, tobacco or otherwise. No more greasy burgers from the fast food joint. No more (gulp) human hangs jerking off his manly cock. Nothing in his hands anymore ever. No more hands again ever, unless this "coven" ever decides to change him back. But then again, on one could tell him to clean his house. No one could tell him to mow his lawn or paint his fence or even wipe his butt. He was just a bull now. It's not like he had any hands...
His huge mouth touched the ground again, the green grass was filling his rumen again. He didn't feel anything major after that, but he did get pretty large, even larger than before. His new hoofs widened a bit to take some more weight. A thin layer of fur spread over his copious skin, a really subtle change he barely noticed. Even his eyesight changed some more, a little blurrier and less colorful, but what else was their to see but grass? The coven members slipped out single file, leaving their new bull with plenty of time to graze and maybe later chew his cud. Joe Zurkofsky: Class of 1971. Vanished April 1975, never found. One less expense on his parents checking account. But not dead. Just hungrily beginning his new life among ... THE FINAL COVEN.