Night is my best cover and I walk slowly, tripping over unfamiliar hooves. I stand as a male sheep, a ram. I was a American spy looking for what Sadam What'sit had cooking at his chemical warfare plant in northern Irac.
Science her had a new twist and infected I was with D.N.A. rendering chemicals. In a matter of two weeks I became this animal. Now beastial thoughts and instincts burn away human rational thoughts. I feel intense lust, jocking off as best a ram can four times a day. I join a sheep farm, my white horns are not special. All around are male and female sheep and almost all have white curving horns.
Today I mounted a ewe and with much poking finally entered and rammed home my lust. My mind is cloudy and sentance structure thoughts lose meaning almost as fast as I remember.
Days have gone by, I try to count by nights passing. I am lost in a sea to taste and smells. Desires and lust mingle into a minute by minute memory of what I do. I feel that if found the on;y thing returning to home is a Iracian ram.