I ran my fingers along the pendant in my hand, a flat teardrop-shaped pink jewel speckled with irregular blotches of ebony and ivory. As per the instructions of the spellbook, I had removed it from its gold-laced enclosure and, using a delicate pink ribbon, affixed it to my upper thigh. The pendant was cold on my naked skin. I could hear my heart beating so loudly, I felt as though it could explode. I swallowed hard, and read the incantation in the spellbook aloud. “Vachone, great goddess of plenty,” I whispered through a dry mouth, “G-grant me your power—” I stumbled a bit over the next few words— “A-and your… b-beauty.”

Nothing happened. I sighed. The pounding of my heart ceased. I must have done it wrong. I scanned the worn and age-yellowed pages of the book to see if I had missed a crucial step, then paused. There were a number of small, short black hairs scattered on the pages. I brushed them off with the side of my hand, thinking nothing of them. Then I looked across my desk, catching myself in the mirror I kept to the side, and would have gasped had my voice not caught in my throat. A day’s worth of stubble had vanished in an instant, leaving the skin of my face and neck smooth and boyish. My brown eyes, however, had become lined in a sharp and delicate black which brought my eyelashes, now thicker, into prominence; and my lips had become plump and pink. I could see before my eyes the contours of my face becoming softer and rounder as my black hairline marched forward. I reached up with my hands to feel the smoothness of my face, only to draw them away in shock—they, too, had become softer, and my nails had grown longer and exceptionally well-formed. The hair on my arms and chest fell to the floor just as my facial hair had done, and as my shoulders began to narrow I could feel my hips widen. Looking down, I could see my thighs, now hairless as well, thicken, although strangely, the delicate ribbon tying the pendant to me seemed to lengthen in order to keep up with my rapidly changing physique.

I fell to the floor, cushioned by my fattening backside but letting out a yelp none the same. I stumbled to my feet as my chest began to ache, and caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair had turned bright pink, matching the color of my lips, and was growing before my eyes. I drew a hand to the back of my head and felt my ever-lengthening hair somehow arrange itself into a twin set of tails reaching down to my knees. The room spun around me, and suddenly my hair now brushed the floor. I realized that I had become much shorter—and plumper, in several ways. When I looked downward, I found my view of the lower half of my body obscured by a pair of incredibly ample breasts. I cupped the soft, supple flesh in my hands, feeling the satisfying jiggle of my bosom, and was struck short of breath by the richness of the sensation I felt. One hand, unbidden, sank to my groin and found that, somehow, my testicles had retracted into my body, and my penis was on its way to join them. My fingers followed it, between the parting lips of my new sex, as my penis formed into an overwhelmingly sensitive clitoris.

With one hand exploring my breasts, and the other my clit, I lamented only having two hands. There were so many other parts of my body I wanted to feel all at the same time—my butt, my tummy, my silky pink hair—and all of those would have to wait until my urges were satisfied. I was so preoccupied with my pleasure, I hardly noticed the pressure in my forehead as a short and stumpy pair of horns poked out from my temples, or the prickly pain in my ears as they lengthened and flared out. And when I came for the first time as a woman, I was too caught up in my ecstacy to notice the rope-like tail I had sprouted, covered in bristly brown fur and capped with a tuft of long, pink hair, or the cloven hooves my feet had shaped themselves into. Brown fur spread up my legs, up my thighs, though the bushy hair of my groin remained the same pink as the hair on my head.

Pink and white lace wrapped around my calves, forming an elegant pattern that spread from my ankles to the tops of my knees. A ruffled pair of panties appeared to cover me, snaking out four lacy ribbons to join their neighbors on my legs. A matching brassiere spontaneously appeared over my breasts, with thick ruffles drawing attention to my cleavage. I hadn’t noticed, but the brown fur now covering my lower half had spread up my torso, to my neck, and down my arms, and my fingers had grown stubby and capped with thick black hooflets. Once I’d opened my eyes and seen these bestial changes, along with the new wardrobe I’d received, I blushed so deeply I felt as though my cheeks would catch fire. How could this lacy, soft, feminine outfit be me!? And yet wearing it felt so right—I didn’t miss my masculinity at all. I gingerly felt the texture of my luxurious undergarments. This was me—this was my body!

My eyes rolled up as the changes spread to my face. My tongue, quickyl growing too long and wide to fit in my mouth, hung out and dripped saliva down my front. But my nose and mouth pulled outward into a wide, thick muzzle, giving my tongue an amply-sized home. All the same, my tongue stuck out and licked my pink, wet nose. I mooed with pleasure, and was instantly embarrassed that such a bestial sound had escaped my mouth. I desperately hoped I would be able to control such animalistic vocalizations in the future.

A ruffled pink collar drew across my neck, a golden squarish bell materializing on its front. Hearing its low clanging, I could tell right away that it was a cowbell. But this was no ordinary cowbell—the craftsmanship behind it was exquisite. This cowbell would be wasted hanging from the neck of a beast of burden. A short white dress materialized around me next, its top stopping just short of the thick ruffles of my bra and leaving my shoulders, save for the lacy straps of my bra, bare. The skirted portion of my dress came down to about mid-thigh—not very modest, but I doubted I’d care much about modesty anymore. I stood up, learning how to balance on my thick bovine hooves, and nearly fell over again when a thick, fluffy petticoat poofed into existence underneath my dress! As I grew more comfortable with my new body and my new clothes, I spent the rest of the evening twirling around in my dress, practicing my curtseying, admiring my thick, fluttery eyelashes in the mirror—

And then, completely by accident, I somehow pulled a sharp, bejeweled pitchfork out of my cowbell and realized that, despite its appearance, my new body was that of a warrior. I was not only a cow girl, but also a magical girl! I wondered what I would call myself… Sailor Moo, perhaps?