Mini-Story: Always Eat Your Veggies (Anthro Cow TGTF)

By FoxFaceStories

Sam is a young farmer who takes hormone therapy to become a woman. Little does he know, the company giving him a hormone therapy treatment are using an experimental bovine growth hormone, one that activates when Sam eats his vegetables . . . 

Always Eat Your Veggies

It all started with that first bite of a carrot. Well, that wasn’t quite true, it technically started with a jab in the arm. Even that is questionable, actually. In Sam’s mind, it probably started when he was sixteen and he finally accepted that he was transgender, and that he wanted to become a woman more than anything. Still, he buried that awareness deep down inside of himself for another nine years, still thinking of himself as a man, still acting the role of a young farmer who had inherited the cow business from his now-deceased father. He dressed up in women’s clothing when he could, but it just never felt right. Sam wished he could be the kind of transwoman who could get surgery and pills and the like to become a woman, but for him, it needed to be more. He wouldn’t be happy until he knew that he could be a lady right down to the very etchings of his DNA.

And then, at the age of twenty five, his long-sought dream came true. A company called GeneSpark were taking experimental trials to alter gene-sequences of volunteers, all in the hopes of changing one’s gender. Samuel leapt at the opportunity, taking some time away from his herds at their milking machines to fill out a form and pray, pray, pray that he would be chosen. Lucky for him, he was. Just a week later, Sam was at GeneSpark, receiving a jab in the arm.

“In just a little over a month, you should become a full woman, right down to the biological level,” the nice woman administering the shot told him.

Samuel was ecstatic. He checked every day afterwards for signs, often stopping while overseeing the milking of his cows and the packing of their milk just to inspect his arms and legs, where his body hair was in full retreat. After just a week, his lips were getting fuller, his cheeks a little rounder, and his hips were starting to spread. It was fantastic, though it did come with one major side effect: Sam was positively addicted to vegetables. He couldn’t stop eating them, and they were not even cooked! He felt an insatiable need to eat them around his cows just as they did: chewing them raw right down to the root. He’d never been big on vegetables, but now he was craving them constantly, and with each vegetable he ate, his changes seemed to speed up, which only encouraged him further.

“Yes, it’s likely just a side effect,” the woman at GeneSpark told him after nine days of the experiment had passed. “Hmm, you appear to be getting thicker thighs. And did you say you had a slight pain at the end of your spine?”

“And in my chest, which is more sore. My scalp is itchy and pressurised sometimes, too.”
“Good, good.”
“Good?” he asked.

The woman smiled. “Oh yes, these are big signs of success.”

What Sam didn’t know was that he had been injected with a far more experimental genetic treatment than he could have imagined. This one was infused not just with female DNA changes, but bovine growth hormones. Which was why, even as his body continued to take on a more womanly shape and a pair of breasts finally started to surge forth, there were other unexpected changes taking place.

The first was a little bump at the end of his spine. It occurred right after devouring several potatoes and some leeks. Sam winced as he felt the sore nub there, which protruded strangely, but his appetite was voracious. Which led to change number two; some bone growths pushing out from his scalp, on either side of the top of his forehead.

“What the hell?” he said as he looked in the mirror, voice higher and softer than ever. “I’m looking more like a woman alright, but this can’t be right. Wait, I’m hairy again!? What!?”

Patches of what seemed like white hair were growing on his arms and calves, as well as around his back. It was enough to make Sam worried, so he made an appointment at GeneSpark again. They couldn’t accommodate him for several days, during which he tried to avoid veggies and just eat fruit and meat. But the former tasted all kinds of gross and the latter was just . . . wrong. Especially beef. Anything beef made him want to vomit. The young farmer was forced to consume more veggies just to satisfy his growling stomach, but that made his body change further. Some alterations were welcome: his breasts were getting more prominent, now easily full C-cups that needed a bra to stop them from jiggling. His waist pulled in, though it maintained a sort of thickness to it, and his hips spread out, barely keeping up with his butt, which was looking quite round. Samuel was embarrassed by this; he wanted to be a woman, alright, but a petite one that matched his image of himself. Instead, he was becoming thick and curvaceous, his thighs impressive and his hips looking like a pair of expert babymakers. 

Except those babymakers were getting covered in white fur with black spots. And his hair, which was growing long and beautiful, dark as ever, now had what looked like little horns sprouting from it. And the thing at the end of his spine was starting to feel like a short, thick tail; it even had a tuft of black hair at the end of it. And this wasn’t even getting into the uncomfortable bloating in his lower stomach. About the only good thing was that his penis was in full retreat, but Samuel was terrified of becoming a freak.

“You’ve got to fix it!” he finally told the mysterious, nameless woman at his GeneSpark appointment. “I’ve been changing for twenty days now, but I’m starting to look like some mutant! A - a cow mutant!”

“Hmm, the woman said. “Is anything causing this, do you think?”

“The - the veggies! When I eat a vegetable, it accelerates.”

“Ah, I see. Have you tried to stop?
He looked down miserably. His boobs were now Double-D cups, and still sore with impressive growth. They were . . . bigger than he expected them to be. All of him was much curvier, but he could handle that were it not for the . . . other things. Like how his ears were moving to the top of his head and growing flatter.

“I tried,” he said. “I’m still trying.” His stomach gurgled loudly. “But I keep needing more vegetables! It’s all I crave, like it’s an instinct. I’m eating so many greens and it’s making me mutate or something. This isn’t the woman I wanted to become!”

The scientist simply patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure it will all correct itself. But remember, this is an experimental trial, and your signed waivers mean you are under a non-disclosure agreement and also cannot sue us.”

That was effectively the end of the meeting. Poor Sam went back to his farm and took care of his cows, all of whom were treating him more affectionately lately. He winced as his sore feet, the toes of which were getting hard and starting to fuse together. It was all wrong, but he still desires more vegetables. He ordered groceries all the way out to his farm, to be delivered as fresh as possible. Over the next five days he consumed carrots, potatoes, leeks, baby spinach, celery, cabbages, cauliflowers, and even a whole bag of onions! Nothing could stop him except himself, and he didn’t have the willpower to stop.

And so his body continued to change. The man’s penis finally retreated, forming a passage and set of labial lips that ensured he was now a woman, that she was now a woman. She was now Sammi, just as she’d always dreamed, except now she was a thick-bodied, incredibly voluptuous cow-person on top of being a woman! Her horns had developed, and her face had pushed forward to form a snout, while her breasts were now each the size of her own head and oddly pressurised. The patch above her new vagina was growing four sensitive teats, and she laughed madly when she realised what it was.

“An udder! I’m growing a fucking udder! Of course I am!”

It continued to expand over the last few days of Sammi’s month-long transformation. She continued to look at herself in the mirror, startled by how much she had changed. Her black and white Holstein coat now covered her form completely, with the exception of her pink udder and her shiny black nose. Her ears were flat cow’s ears, and her tail was several feet long and constantly swaying or moving in response to her moods. Her ass was tremendous, as were her hips, giving her a pear-shaped figure. But the dainty feet she’d always imagined were now hooved, and her slender hands had become three-digited hoof-hands as well. It was a struggle to adjust to them, and said struggle was made harder by the fact that her bloated mammaries had started to produce milk now.

“Ughhh,” she groaned. “M-mooo. Now I need milking! What the hell!?”

She purchased pumps online, but for her growing, basketball-sized udder the new cow-woman required the use of the pumps at the milking stations. There, her many cows rubbed up against her affectionately, making her laugh.

“Hey, calm down!” she said. “Okay, I guess I’m sorta one of you now, hey?”

Indeed, it rather felt like it. Her body was practically complete, her breasts now the size of her own head each and continually filling with milk. Her udder was getting up to the dimensions of a beachball on those days she didn’t milk herself into a bucket. It was maddening, and yet at times oddly erotic, leaving her moaning and mooing, naked and aroused in the barn where she conducted this secret business. And in those moments she at least got to experience the womanly pleasure of lifting her udder and teasing her new pussy lips, fondling her milk-dribbling nipples and making herself cum ecstatically as she rolled in the hay. Why not embrace it? she thought. It wasn’t like GeneSpark were answering her calls anymore, and they were ghosting her completely on all other platforms. Nor could she exactly visit them; she had to order customised clothing just to get dresses and female clothing that had flaps to support her heavy udder, and massive maternity bras that could soak in her excess milk.

And still she ate her vegetables. What was the point of fighting it at this point? She knew that with every potato, every leek, every cabbage she ate, she was only contributing further to her massive milk production. She wore loose dresses to accommodate her engorged udder and breasts, but other days she went completely naked, letting her udder slap against her furry thighs and her breasts bounce naturally. She even started sleeping under the stars and eating the grass alongside her bovine friends, who treated her like she was one of their sisters.

“You know,” she said one day to her herd members as she lay on her side, idly cupping her heavy, always warm breasts. “This isn’t too bad, I suppose. I mean, I always intended to be a petite woman. A cute woman. I definitely didn’t imagine I’d be Sammi the Cowgirl. Sammi the Bovine Lass. Sammi the Milkmaid. But . . . I feel pretty free right now. Pretty right. It wasn’t like I was the most social person before anyway, right?”

As if in agreement, her herd mooed. She smiled at them with her flattened bovine teeth and bit into another large carrot.

“Thanks girls. You’re the best. What say we get to the milk sheds to deal with all our udders, hey?”

The days continued. GeneSpark was being investigated for ethics abuse in their hormone tests according to the news, but Sammi largely ignored it. She doubted the megacorp would be taken down that easily, and she certainly didn’t want to become some cowgirl freak known to the public. Her business was doing well, and she’d managed to make deals with certain partners who would keep silent on her appearance, and others she simply communicated with only digitally, with no face contact required. Her farm was more successful than ever since she’d started selling her Premium Milk, which naturally came from her udder and breasts. It really was the most nutritious and tasty milk she’d ever had, having sampled some herself. And she could even flavour it a little depending on what vegetables she ate the most of each day.

In the end, it wasn’t a bad life. Sammi had achieved her most important pair of goals: she had kept her family farm running and even made it more successful, and she was finally, finally a woman. One with far more curves than she ever could have expected, and a whole lot more fur, horns, teats, and general lactation too, but she was a woman. In fact, she was even starting to look at herself in the mirror and actually see herself as pretty. Beautiful, even. Enough so that she decided to dip her hooves into the online dating scene, and look for a man who not only saw her the same way, but would be ecstatic to end up with a cowgirl like her. There would be just two important conditions, of course.

One, he’d have to like her milk.

And two, he’d really have to like vegetables.

The End