Mark awkwardly moved to the door that led to the cow pasture. He had to get away
from the milking machine, though Roth as large and firm as his udder was getting, he
might need that sooner than he'd want if he didn't get back to those vials soon.
His hooves clattered along the door and he was able to move it! "Yes!" he exclaimed,
though his voice sounded lower and thicker. He realized, to his horror, that a white
snout was visible in the bottom if his vision. His face was shifting! "Oh, noooOOO!".
The door slid open, but instead of freedom, he was greeted by a herd if cows waiting
for their evening milking. They forced the door open and he found himself caught in a
flood of cows, propelling him back to the milking stall. His udders full and his flesh
shifting.
The though of the pleasure of milking was one thing, but when the milk grain poured
into the trough, his newly broad tongue flicked out and lurked his broad, salty nose in
hunger.
No! He wasn't a cow'. He could control himself!