Crimson Reborn Ch. 10

Emily climbed down off her horse, Samson. She'd spotted a patch of the fence line that had become obscured by a tree's overhang. The cows were clever enough to find breaks in the fence that would often be hidden from plain view. Most folks didn't give the herd the credit they deserved for being problem solvers. Working as a dairy hand often meant thinking like a cow though.

Grabbing her shears from the loop on the side of Samson's saddle, she headed over to the patch and went to work. It was unusually hot for the late fall, even this far south. Adding to that was the strange feeling she'd had since she woke up that morning. She'd not slept well on account of a series of dreams of which she didn't remember much. What she did remember made her blush nervously. She'd never had many sex dreams, but she'd certainly had some last night.

That had left her off kilter as she got dressed for the day, but the bizarre feeling in her didn't start until after breakfast. Something about the milk had seemed different. Working her whole life on the farm, she'd come to understand a few things about milk. Two glasses that morning and the whole time drinking it she thought that it tasted funny. Didn't stop her though. Didn't stop her mom or dad either. They'd all guzzled it down.

Clipping away the overhanging branches, she was relieved to find the fence in tact. She'd only brought enough supplies to make a few repairs, and she didn't want to have to double back to the house. It was already near noon, and Emily was unusually hungry. She gathered up the fallen branches and threw them over the fence and turned to get back on Samson and ride home. The horse whickered and backed away from her as she approached.

"Easy boy, easy," Emily said, the horse had been jumpy all morning, not helping Emily's uneasy mood. Now he seemed much more agitated, to the point where Emily was a little spooked herself. She turned back toward the fence and scanned along the line. A coyote could get Samson uneasy, or something like a bobcat. Hell, even black bears still lived somewhere around. Still, Emily had a distinct impression that it wasn't any of those things.

She tried moving closer to the horse, but it backed away, stamping its hoof, ears back and eyes wide. It's me, she realized. Emily had raised Samson from his birth. It wounded her more than she thought it would to see him feel threatened by her. No, he wouldn't. It's not me, exactly. It's something about me. She looked down at her hands, wondering if the branches had been coated with some other animal's scent. Samson was not so patient. The horse took a few more cautious steps back and then bolted. Emily called out in frustration, but it didn't matter. At least he's headed toward the house. She groaned aloud. It was at least a thirty minute walk back to the house from where she'd been stranded. Frustrated, she propped the clippers on her shoulder and started walking.

The heat started to get to her after only ten minutes. The summers got up to the hundreds, but somehow the blazing sun on a clear fall day was always worse. Maybe it was the expectation of a cooler season that made it seem worse. Or maybe it was just worse somehow, through some sort of physics Emily only had the half of. The shift in the Earth's axis caused the sun's rays to hit the atmosphere differently, or something. She'd never paid any attention in science classes and often found strange ways of regretting it, such as bemoaning the temperature on a fall day. The pastures were mostly flat, but with a few gradual slopes, meant to facilitate drainage. Gradual seemed much more significant at the moment as she hiked up toward the gate and the house beyond. At the top of the small hill stood a few sparse trees that the cows would use for shade. Cows were clever like that, after all.

Sheltering under the small copse, Emily paused to rest. She hadn't been walking for more than fifteen minutes and yet she felt exhausted. The strange feeling that had been plaguing her all day was taking a bizarre toll on her stamina. A little piece of her mind seemed to suggest that walking on all fours would somehow be less tiring. The sweat on her body had made her start to chafe and itch. Frustrated, she tossed down the clippers beside one of the trees. One less thing to worry about, at least. She scanned the field looking for any sign of Samson, but the horse had disappeared. He likely went back to his stable, but he could have also run off to the far end of the pastures for a little holiday of his own, though he would likely be disappointed to not find the herd waiting to frolic with him.

"We're alone," Emily whispered. The pasture stretched for two miles in the opposite direction. On the closer side was a road that no one used a full two miles from the nearest highway. Other than her own home, the closest house was another four miles down the road. The only people even remotely close to her were her mother and possibly Cain, she hadn't noticed if the farmhand had come in that morning. Even if he had, he'd probably been sent home already since her father wouldn't be back till that evening. The isolation made Emily grin. She'd worn a t-shirt that morning. She pulled it off and draped it over her shoulder. Her sports bra itched, but she wasn't that isolated. It seemed tighter than when she'd put it on, but perhaps she'd just not noticed. Stripping of her shirt felt good though, as if for the first time in a while she'd made the right decision. With a slightly improved mood, she set off from the copse of trees, heading once again for the house.

The sun warmed her skin, but the moving air was a significant improvement over the confines of her t-shirt. Emily felt so liberated by removing the shirt that she simply dropped it as she walked. She'd slowed her pace somewhat and started to enjoy the field's solitude and quiet. In the distance, she could hear someone singing. She stopped and listened, straining her ear to find the direction of the bizarre voice. It sounded beautiful and eerie, making her both long for it and wary of it. Emily felt a sudden lurch, the same as right before the drop on a roller coaster. It passed in an instant, but she still toppled to the ground. Her hands digging into the earth soothed away the vertigo. It felt proper to rest her weight forward onto her hands. She arched her back, sticking her ass up into the air for a moment before she composed herself and stood.

She frowned. Behind her was the hill and the small copse of trees, but before her was a small incline leading up to the exact same hill. Confused, she scrambled forward in a half run. Out of breath, she gazed out from the the hilltop to see her house in the distance. The trees were the same and her clippers were still propped up against one of them. Looking behind her, the old hill had vanished and she could see the fence line and the trees beyond. "What the hell," she muttered. Looking down the slope, she saw her t-shirt in the grass, and her stomach lurched again. She braced herself against the closet trunk as the nausea swept over her. It passed without incident, but her head continued to swirl. The distant song was louder and all around her. An acrid, bitter taste clogged the back of her throat as panic seeped into her.

Clenching her fists, she started to run, tearing down the hill toward where her shirt remained. Her feet thudded into the soft earth and her momentum threatened to send her head over heels. She reached the bottom of the hill and sighed with relief as the pasture remained stretched before her with the house fully in sight. Then, pain shot through her right leg. Her foot had snagged on something. The next footfall didn't come and she toppled face first into the grass. The lurch came again and she knew what it meant. The song grew louder and her clothes fit tighter. Climbing to her hands and knees, she was overwhelmed with the urge to stay in that position. It felt good, extremely good. She could smell the grass, feel the warm sun on her back, and only wanted her ass exposed so she could feel the fresh air on her sex as well. She fought away the sensations and got to her feet.

Before her the hill appeared once again, but this time someone waited at the copse of trees. A woman, Emily thought, wearing a dress that fluttered in a non-existent breeze. The woman was singing and Emily walked toward her willingly. As she approached, Emily was struck by the woman's beauty. In her whole life, she'd never seen anyone so perfect or so familiar, yet unknown. Looking at her, Emily knew things in a way she couldn't understand. She knew that the woman's name was Lucy and that she had once been a normal woman like Emily who lived in Small Creek, perhaps even someone Emily had known. But that old version of Lucy was gone, becoming something much greater and much more terrible. The song faded, but did not stop as Emily reached the hilltop. Lucy smiled and offered her hand to the younger woman.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I have many gifts that I do not yet understand. I must test them where I can, but know that it pains me to give any displeasure to you. I'm Lucy."

"I know," Emily answered. Her skin was hot. She didn't feel exposed in only her sports bra. If anything, she hated that she had clothes on at all. Still, she crossed her arms over her chest to hide her discomfort.

Lucy gently led them to the far side of the hill and gestured out toward the house. "It is a beautiful farm. A good home for my herd. There in the milkhouse is the lord of this place, as I have given it to him. He has claimed his first disciple and waits for more. Emily, I craft my message specifically for those who must hear it. And you have a more archaic vision in your head of godliness. It seeped in, despite your mother's wishes, didn't it. You go to church with your friends and believe. Do you know the parable of the bridesmaids?"

"Yes," Emily answered. "Ten virgins awaited the coming of a groom. Five of them went and prepared oil for their lamps, being ready for the groom to come at any hour. The other five did not, leaving their chore until later, but the groom came unexpectedly. The unprepared asked those who had readied themselves if they could take of their oil, but the readied refused, and so the five went to get oil for themselves. But while they were gone, the groom did come and left without them. They went to the groom's house where he lived inside with the five who had been ready. But he refused them, saying that he did not know them."

Lucy smiled, "Very good. And the lesson?"

"The lesson is to always be prepared."

"Are you prepared, Emily? Are you ready to give yourself to your new lord?"

Emily looked down at her clothes. Her pants were covered with dirt and her boots were covered with worse. Her bra had sweat stains and her hair was a mess. Whatever lord Lucy was talking about, Emily doubted that she was ready in any way. As she examined herself, though, she saw a new creature in her mind. One that looked only vaguely similar to the girl Emily had seen in the mirror her whole life, but one she knew would please her new master. The image frightened and excited her, but the former emotion started to win out. "This isn't right. Something is wrong."

"Yes," Lucy said. "When my followers give themselves to me, I trim away a little bit of what they were. Their doubts, their fears, their guilt. All of it fades away and they become creatures of carnal joy. I wonder sometimes how my paradise can function if my denizens cannot feel pain or cannot feel loss. But that is my burden, not theirs. They are blissful and I am mournful for their loss of something they do not remember. Back there, at the fence line is the world you know. A world in which you are taught that a god will love you for obeying its rules and yet leaves you burdened with the pain of following them. That world will obey the laws of reality that you have always known. It will bring you minor happiness and much unpleasantness. You can go back to it. You will walk to the edge of this field, cross over the fence and immediately forget everything that's happened to you. Beyond that, I don't know. Your farm is still mine, so is Cain, and so is your mother. They have made their choice. What about you?"

The image came to her again of herself transformed into an abomination. Yet she could see no horror in it, only joy and carnality. She'd been on the internet and seen many things that she'd considered sinful and tried to hide away in her mind, but they'd remained buried under a false purity that would only ever bring her frustration. She made her choice and started to remove her boots.

Lucy beamed with happiness, literally glowing as she pulled down her top and offered her breasts to Emily. The younger woman took the nipple gladly, wrapping her hands around Lucy's back and hugging her close as she drank. The crimson milk flowed into her body, mingling with the small dose she'd had for breakfast that morning. The corruption seeped into her core and the changes began, but Emily knew she would still have to walk and supplicate herself before her new master. Lucy stroked her hair, "Cain will have many cows. Like any herd, one may look like another and be indistinct. A fat ass and a warm pussy with fat tits giving milk, but you Emily will be separate. You will be his bride and lounge with him on his throne because you have given yourself the freedom to make this choice. You are not bending to your vice, but vaulting it while casting aside the chains of a society that told you to be ashamed." She pulled Emily's mouth away. The newest convert's lips were wet with milk and hungry for more. "Now go, walk your final journey. Cain is waiting."

Her great mistress stepped back and faded into the song once again, leaving Emily alone on the hilltop. Her body quivered with a strange electric feeling. She set her eyes on the milk house and started walking.

***

It wasn't hot any more, but her clothes were still uncomfortable. The feel of the grass between her toes was wonderful, but she wanted more. She unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down. Her legs had been shaved the morning before, but thick, wiry hair had begun to emerge. Her underwear came next and as she left them in the field, she had the distinct impression that she would never wear them again. Finally, she pulled off her sports bra and tossed it away, her first real wave of pleasure coming as her breasts swung free in the sunlight. They'd grown already, she realized, swelling from pert A cups to heavy Bs. They wouldn't stop there either.

Part of her wanted to drop in the field and roll around in the grass. She envisioned Cain towering over her, then his hands thudding to the ground on either side of her petite form as he lowered himself on top of her. She'd never seen a dick before in person and only a few of them on the internet when the curiosity got the better of her. Most of her sexual knowledge came from reading the odd romance novel or watching some R rated films. She'd been a good girl for so long that she wouldn't know what to expect when Cain's cock pushed inside of her. The thought made her wet and a fresh tingle of changes ran over her body.

At the base of her spine, a pressure built and built until finally it shifted to the feeling of stretching a leg after sitting on top of it for far too long. A sort of tingling, nervy feeling as her tail grew out of the top of her ass. She paused to swish it back and forth for a moment, finding the naked appendage rather unappealing and hoping the hair grew in quickly. On the rest of her body, her fur was coming in more quickly. Thick patches of chestnut colored fur ran up her thighs and flanks, around her shoulders and down her arms. Her belly turned white and slightly shorter as her breasts continued to expand. The growth was nice, a warm heavy feeling that radiated up and down her chest. She let her hands come up and caress them. The fur spreading down toward the nipples was strange, but nice. She wondered how much of it would cover her nipples or if they would remain bare and pink. Her hand slid down her chest to her furred stomach, stroking the soft, white patch as she reveled in her changes.

The house was only a thirty yards away now. She could hear the song in the back of her mind, rejoicing in her changes. Pausing, she wiggled her toes in the grass one last time. Her bones began to snap and reform. Toes curled inward as her skin changed to a hard keratin. Her ankles shifted and her weight balance changed. There was another who was like her and she hoped to meet him eventually, but this is the form that Cain had desired. He'd spent so much of his life looking after cattle that it made some sense, she supposed. Her hooves finished forming and a dainty fringe of fur grew down over them. In a way, she'd wanted this form as well. She'd always thought of the cows as beautiful in their own way.

Another surge ran through her body. Her breasts started to leak. D cups at least, though she didn't have any real way of knowing. Her bottom had swelled as well, growing broad and thick to match her powerful thighs. The fur finally covered her whole back, running down her spine and out to her tail where another tuft of thinner, longer hair covered the end. Her ass was fully furred, but still pliable and soft. She reached behind her to stroke and slap it, testing it out to make certain her new master would find it appealing. Her tail swished back and forth as the last changes started to manifest. The hair on the top of her head grew longer, cascading down her back and mingling with her fur. Her eyes rounded slightly and her nose flattened out as her muzzle pushed forward. It didn't grow out as long as cow's would, she wasn't a real cow after all. She thought that she had become something Cain had seen in an illustration once. A cowgirl with a pretty smile and short petite horns. As expected, she felt a little pressure above her temples and horns pushed their way out from her scalp.

Dropping to her hands and knees, she stretched her full body. Her pussy was wet and her milk was already leaking as she glorified her new form. Getting back to her hooves, she moved her hand down to her furry pussy, sliding a finger inside herself, happy to find it as pink and wet as it always had been. It was then that she appreciated how much she'd grown without even noticing. The other cow person she'd seen in Lucy's song was still meant to fuck humans, but not her. Emily had become something meant specifically for Cain. Eager to please her mate, she left the field and headed toward the milk house.

***

The inside of the milkhouse had changed. The austere interior had been replaced by a warm and inviting arrangement of milking stations. At the far end, Cain sat on his throne. As Emily entered, he stood, but did not come to her. Anxiety pulsing through her, she made her way down the aisle to her would-be mate.

In the first stall in front of Cain was a hucow. The woman moaned and writhed as the milking machine pumped her breasts incessantly, streams of milk flowing through he pneumatic tubing to the massive reservoirs that lined either side of the room. Emily vaguely understood that the woman had once been her mother, but that was certainly no longer the case. Where her own body had changed into a furry cow woman, her mother had changed into a more proper cow. Massive tits hung down from Nancy's chest with the pumps attached to the thick nipples. The relatively small waist ballooned out into an oversized rump that would no doubt be used for fucking by her master. It already had, she knew. She could smell his cum marking the thing that had been her mother. What would she say if she could see what I've become. Not this version of her, the other version. The one that had worked so hard to raise me. Raise me into this, a delicious toy for a god.