Thoughts of free love, free range, of cows willing and you, you are so capable to mate with cows, their scent, the flavor of licking weeping leathery vaginal lips, it is so bestial you cannot believe you are wanting to do it, but!
Staggering, bull cock still out and so rigid, those two huge big balls in a furry sack, they are sending out wild pangs to force you to want for being as is a bull.
Angered some from being forced to want for becoming as is a brute animal, the waves of such sensuality is enough to quell and hold fast any a human mind. No matter if you were the son of a minister, the morality learned as a human fades quickly, giving birth to ideas and lusts only a true animal would wish or think to do.
Anxious feeling invade the mind, thoughts of being a Minotaur is oddly enjoyable, but if offered, you would relish the thought or hope of someday getting to become a real bull. Working as a Minotaur sire to keep dairy cows pregnant and dropping new calves, of keeping their milk flowing, this is what is suddenly your reason for living life. You want to fight such thoughts, but this being a Minotaur is too strong, the sensuality, sexuality binds the mind and twists the soul, making what was good and a moral person into a beast, bestial of passion, and you love it!