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You wake up one morning, the world around you a blur of bright lights and sterile white walls. Confusion grips you as you attempt to move, only to find that your wrists and ankles are chained to a bed in a cold, clinical lab. Panic rises within you, and you strain against the restraints, but they hold firm. The room is silent, save for the soft hum of machines and the distant sound of footsteps. Suddenly, the door swings open, and a doctor enters, clad in a white coat and a surgical mask. His eyes glint with an unsettling mix of curiosity and authority as he approaches you. “Ah, you’re awake,” he says, his tone unnervingly calm. “You’ve been selected for a very special experiment.” You feel your heart race. “What… what do you mean?” you stammer, your voice trembling with fear. He leans closer, his gaze piercing. “Soon enough, you’ll understand. But first, we need to begin.” Before you can react, he pulls out a syringe filled with a shimmering green serum and injects it into your arm. The cold fluid spreads through your veins like fire, igniting an overwhelming wave of heat that washes over you. You gasp as your body begins to shift, your muscles twisting and contorting. The pain is unlike anything you’ve experienced; it radiates from your core and spreads to every inch of your being. You feel your spine crack and stretch, reshaping itself, and your legs twist unnaturally. You glance down in horror as your feet morph into hooves, the familiar shape disappearing beneath a layer of dark fur. You scream, but the sound that escapes your throat is a low, mournful moo. A surge of despair grips you; your voice—your identity—slipping away. You try to speak, to plead for mercy, but each attempt dissolves into that same guttural sound. The doctor watches with rapt attention, noting your transformation with clinical detachment. “Fascinating,” he murmurs, as your arms contort and change, fingers thickening, nails darkening, becoming black and claw-like. Your reflection in a nearby mirror reveals the horror: your face is elongating into a muzzle, your eyes wide with fear as horns begin to sprout from your skull. “Moo… please…” you manage to croak out, but the words are thick and slurred. You feel the weight of your hair shift and fall away, replaced by coarse fur. The agony continues as your body expands, a painful fullness building in your chest and belly. You grasp at your midsection, feeling the skin stretch as your breasts swell and your udders begin to grow beneath you. The sensation is overwhelming—every inch of you is on fire, as though the very essence of your being is being reshaped. You can’t tell where the pain ends and the transformation begins; it all blends together in a nauseating swirl of confusion and despair. Your tummy expands, heavy and aching, the udders pulling taut beneath the surface, while your breasts swell, feeling impossibly full. You can barely comprehend the magnitude of the changes, each second dragging you further from your humanity. As the serum continues to course through you, your body feels alien and foreign, the instinctual drive to moo overpowering your desire to scream. Your tail sprouts from the base of your spine, flicking behind you in agitation, an involuntary response to the chaos unfolding within. “Mooo…” The sound escapes again, deep and throaty, as your body writhes on the bed. Your voice is lost, drowned out by the beast within. The doctor steps closer, his gaze piercing and clinical. “Good. Let it happen,” he instructs, and you can see the satisfaction in his eyes as he watches you struggle. The transformation feels never-ending, a cascade of sensations overwhelming your senses. You shift uncomfortably, the thick fur irritating your skin, the udders beneath you heavy and full, an ache that refuses to subside. You close your eyes, willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare, but when you open them, the reality remains: you are becoming something monstrous. You feel a rising sense of panic as the doctor approaches with another syringe. The sight of it sends a wave of nausea crashing over you. Your legs tremble beneath your new weight, the unfamiliar muscles barely able to hold you up. You instinctively try to back away, but your hooves scrape clumsily against the floor, and your tail flicks behind you in nervous, involuntary twitches. “N-no… no, please,” you stammer, the words stumbling out of your mouth, thick and sluggish. The doctor doesn’t stop. His eyes are fixed on you, cold and clinical, as if you were nothing more than an animal on a lab table. You try to step backward again, but your body doesn’t respond the way you want it to. Every movement feels awkward, foreign. Your legs bend in ways they shouldn’t, your hooves clopping unevenly, and the weight of your udders and breasts pulls at you with each misstep. “I… I don’t want this!” you try to say, but the words are getting harder to form. Your mouth feels strange—larger, the shape all wrong. The words slur in your throat, catching on your new, thickened tongue. “P-puh… pleaaaase…” It comes out as a garbled mess, and before you can stop yourself, a sound you hadn’t expected forces its way out of your throat. “M-mmm… mmmoooo…” Your eyes widen in horror. You clamp your hand over your mouth, feeling the muzzle that now protrudes from your face. The shape of your lips, the way your jaw moves—it’s all wrong. Your throat feels tighter, the muscles not working like they used to. Speaking feels impossible. Every attempt to form words dissolves into that low, involuntary moo, no matter how hard you try to resist it. The doctor pauses, syringe in hand, and smiles behind his mask. “Ah,” he says softly, tilting his head. “It’s already starting. Don’t fight it—you’ll only exhaust yourself.” You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes. You can’t let this happen. You won’t. There has to be a way to stop it, to reverse this nightmare, to—mmmmooo. The sound escapes again, this time louder, more insistent. You feel your throat vibrate with the deep, lowing noise, the very sound of it filling you with terror. Your legs buckle, and you stumble, catching yourself on the metal bed frame. Your udders sway heavily beneath you, painfully bloated, and the fur covering your body itches uncomfortably. Every inch of your skin feels wrong—like you’re wearing someone else’s body. “Puh-puh… please,” you manage to choke out, but it’s barely more than a whisper, your voice thick with the animalistic sounds fighting to take over. “Don’t… d-don’t…” But the doctor isn’t listening. He moves swiftly, taking your arm with surprising strength, and before you can even think to resist, the needle sinks into your flesh again. The familiar heat spreads through your veins, and a wave of dizziness hits you hard. You gasp, clutching your chest, as the serum begins to take hold. This time, it feels different—like it’s reaching deeper, changing more than just your body. Your mind feels fuzzy, as if it’s slipping away from you, bit by bit. It’s hard to think, hard to remember what you were just moments ago. The memories of your human self are there, but distant, like they belong to someone else entirely. “Wh-wh-what…” you try to ask, but it’s too late. Another moo rumbles from your throat, loud and unmistakable. You want to scream, but the sound comes out wrong, distorted, your human voice struggling to hold on beneath the weight of this new, bestial instinct. “Shh,” the doctor soothes, his hand resting on your fur-covered arm. “Your body is adapting faster than I expected. It’s remarkable, really.” You try to focus on the room around you, to ground yourself in something familiar, but everything is blurring at the edges. Your udders ache, your breasts feel heavy, and the fur covering your skin itches incessantly. You try to think, to push against the changes, but the sensations are too much. You’re losing your grip on reality, losing your identity. “Mooore,” you mutter under your breath, your voice slipping into the lowing sound again. You’re horrified by how easy it is now, how natural the noise feels in your throat. It’s as though the transformation isn’t just physical—your mind is changing too. The part of you that’s still James is slipping away, little by little. Summoning what little strength you have left, you stumble toward the door, each step a clumsy, awkward movement of hooves on tile. Your arms swing awkwardly at your sides, your body struggling to adjust to its new shape. You reach for the handle, but your hands, with their thickened black nails, can’t grasp it properly. You tug, but the door won’t budge. “Mmmmoooo…” The sound slips out again, uncontrollably, and you feel a rush of frustration and shame. You try again, pulling at the door with what little strength you have, but your body is betraying you. You’re no longer human—your muscles, your limbs, even your voice, are becoming something else entirely. The doctor watches with detached curiosity as you struggle, making no move to stop you. He seems content to observe, taking notes, waiting for whatever comes next. “You’re in the early stages of your transformation, James,” he says, the name feeling foreign as it echoes in your mind. “And there’s much more to explore.” Your heart races, panic surging as the reality sinks in. You’re becoming a thing, an experiment. You’re trapped in a body that isn’t yours, losing the last vestiges of your identity with each passing moment. You want to scream, to fight back, but the animal instincts are creeping in, pulling you down into the depths of your new reality. “Please… don’t…” you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle against the straps holding you down. The doctor simply shakes his head, his eyes glinting with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. “Don’t fight it,” he says, his voice smooth and reassuring. “Embrace what you’re becoming.” You tremble as the words sink in, and the last remnants of your humanity begin to slip away, leaving only the primal urge to obey. You want to resist, to fight back against the horror of your transformation, but with every passing moment, it becomes harder to hold on. And as the doctor continues to observe, you know that the nightmare is just beginning.

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