As I learned later, Tim ran off after what his changed nasal sensory ability told him where to find some goats, he being enthused, wanted to mate as any a young buck might.
Tim followed his nose, or muzzle to the Killingsworth farm. His being more and more a buck and not a person had him feeling bestial lust, something he had but joked about to his friends. Tim leaped the pasture fence and mingled then with the goat herd kept there at the Killingsworth farm property. He being in his middle teens had him as if a buck goat being two years of age, but mature enough to mate. He must have mated, and like when one is voting, to vote and vote often, Tim mated and bred, standing, humped as humping, enthralled by what he was, a big buck goat!
John Killingsworth called me on my cell phone, he having seen the striking big buck goat being busy with breeding. He had by then heard of the news our dad was infected, and my sister was the carrier. Bad news travels fast, and come that fated evening my dad went to the shed and found there a grown doe goat needing desperately to being milked. Dad milked Linda, she being from her bound captivity changed into a goat both physical and mentally.
Dad bought goat milk and had it in the fridge for all of us to partake, this was likely the reason the virus chose to change two of our family to being as goats. An influenza injected serum seemed to regulate father back to being his human self with the exception of what mom told me, as that her husband remained highly aroused, and enhanced of his genitals. I waited my chance and happened to catch a view of dad coming out the shower stall, seeing there his furry goat sheath, and those baseball size testicles, he was endowed!
Oh ah Tim, he remained a buck goat, to where John my friend took Tim to the county fair and had him judged as a prime buck sire. John is leasing Tim to other farms as a prime sire to enhance the Boer breed of goats in the region.
I go to to the Killingsworth farm about once a month and John lets me see but not pet my somewhat infectious brother. Tim seems to know who I am and then with seeing me, he acts as if he knows he is a goat and not his past self. John tells me that Tim mates by day and masturbates every night as all night, his stall straw usually coated with long dried strings of goat semen.
"Your bother was always a horny kid, but sense he became infected and change, he has matured to being the horniest of big bucks!" John says, as we tend to make jokes about Tim and his bestial predilection for want to sniff, lick, as tonguing of rubbery goat pussies before he takes a penal plunge.