Well Suited

a short story by Dan Standing

Darla could feel her hands sweating as she breathed in the stale rubbery air. Her body ached as she held up the flimsy but surprisingly heavy sign. She felt dumb, for two reasons. One was the writing on the sign;

COWme in and try our new Beef Burger Deluxe!

Only at the new BullStop!

The other reason was the outfit she was wearing. She never expected that her first job out of college would be to wave some sign around in what could only be described as a slutty cow costume.

She also never thought the words “slutty” and “cow” could be used in the same sentence to describe the same thing.

Yet here she was. A hair band held two horns atop her head, sticking out of her blond strands. An elastic band held a plastic cow nose over her own. Her hands had on gloves meant to look like hooves, including fabric printed with the classic black-and-white Holstein pattern running up to her elbows. The tight tank top that covered her peach-sized breasts also sported the look, as well as the pair of shorty-shorts that barely covered her ass. A fake plastic udder, which looked more like a whoopee cushion than it did any part of a cow, was pinned to the elastic of her shorts, hanging just under her very visible naval. On the back a cow tail hung down the crack of her ass. This was topped off by a pair of knee high boots which also sported the cow hide pattern, all the way down to around the ankles where fake hooves were stitched to the fabric.

Darla was miserable. It was hot. One of the two restaurant managers kept driving by to make sure she wasn’t slacking. The boots and gloves were uncomfortable and chafed her skin, and the plastic nose smelled weird.

But the rent wasn’t going to pay itself.

This was day two of a week long contract, and Darla was dedicated to seeing the nightmare of a paycheck through to the end. Even if it meant holding the sign up without any energy whatsoever, only calling out “Moo!” with lackluster effort whenever the manager drove by.

As she stood at the corner of the town’s busiest intersection, trying to attract the attention of any driver stopped at a red light, something in the corner of her eye caught the young woman’s attention. She turned and looked down the opposite side of the street on her left, which was Fulmination Avenue.

Walking down the sidewalk towards the corner directly across from her was a young woman about Darla’s age wearing a big, black, pointy witch’s hat. Other than some brunette strands of hair poking out from under her head garment, the rest of the girl was obscured by a black cape that was completely wrapped around her body. Darla thought she could see the corner of a sign poking against the fabric.

The cow-dressed girl pulled her attention away from the other person and concentrated on waving her sign at the cars stopped closest to her. The drivers were much more interested in the stoplight than Darla, and she was concentrating so hard on getting their attention that she almost didn’t hear the shout from across the street.

“Why does your sign say ‘cow me?'”

It took a moment for Darla to realize the witch-dressed woman was addressing her, and she turned to look over to the other part of the intersection. The corner had indeed been part of an obscured sign, which was laying face down on the sidewalk now.

“What did you say?” Darla shouted back over the traffic, a little perturbed.

“Why does your sign say ‘cow me?'”

“That’s ‘come,'” Darla shouted back, but the girl put her hand to her ear as if she hadn’t understood, so Darla shouted louder this time; “THAT’S ‘COME!'”

The witch seemed to hear something, and gave a slightly disgusted look back to Darla, who returned her attention to the traffic.

For two seconds.

Darla quickly found her eyes, along with all the driver’s eyes, swinging over to the other corner as the witch whipped off her cloak, picked up her sign, and started shouting and cheering. The sign read;

Witch way is right? Your way is! At the SandWitch Stop!

The sign was not why everyone was looking, however. Neither were the cheers. The removal of the cloak revealed what the young woman was wearing underneath.

Or, more specifically, what she wasn’t wearing. Admittedly, the black micro bikini thong outfit, mixed with a pair of black, latex, thigh-high, skintight heeled boots, could have been quite gut-wrenching on the wrong body.

But it was clearly on a very right body. It was a body that would have made porn-stars with thousands of dollars of plastic surgery weep with jealousy. This woman was built to draw attention. As she raised and shook the sign over her head, breasts the size of grapefruit jiggled against the miniscule fabric maintaining their legality. A waist that seemed under the influence of an invisible corset poured into hips and an ass that followed in the bold direction of the amazing breasts. This woman was simply incredible. The drivers loved her.

Darla hated her.

“What the fuck is that?”

The voice of the patrolling restaurant manager snapped Darla’s attention away from her competition. Her boss had pulled his car up along the curb, and was glaring at his employee in anger.

“I don’t know, she just showed up there,” Darla replied, starting to walk over to the car.

“Don’t come talk to me, keep that sign in the air!” the manager exclaimed, causing Darla to jump back and hold up her cardboard. None of those motions shook anything on her slim form, except for the fake udder and tale. And there was no way she’d ever match the pure energy radiating from across the street.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Look, we can’t have her there and you here, no one’s going to pay any attention to you. Either go over there and get rid of her, or get your sign next to those…” the manager never finished his sentence, as his attention was drawn back over with every other driver’s.

“I’ll…I’ll try,” Darla replied, not certain what recourse there really was in this situation.

Well…legal recourse.

“Good,” muttered the manager, who rolled his window back up and slowly drove out of the intersection…but only because the row of cars behind him were beginning to get rowdy.

Even without the arrival of the manager, Darla’s natural competitive nature would have brought the situation to a head completely on its own. As soon as the light changed and the WALK signal lit up Darla stormed across the street, fake plastic hooves clacking against the asphalt as the rubber udder banged against her thighs and crotch.

“What’s the idea of standing over here like this?” Darla immediately exclaimed as she reached the witch’s corner. She positioned herself sort of catercornered to the woman, and awkwardly flipped up her own sign in her cow gloves.

“What do you mean?” replied the barely-covered witch, not once lowering her sign.

“Find another intersection, this one is mine.”

“I’m pretty sure I can stand here as long as I want,” replied the woman, smiling as a passing car honked.

“Excuse me, that honk was for me.”

“Dressed as a slutty cow? Sorry, that was for me,” the witch replied, shaking her chest a little and eliciting many more blaring sounds from the cars.

“Oh yeah?” Darla replied, putting her own sign aside for a moment and quickly reaching up and snatching the witch’s sign from her hands, “Let’s see how well you do without a message!”

“Hey!” the competition yelled, following Darla as she backed up towards Fulmination Avenue, “Give that back!”

“Come and get it!” Darla exclaimed as she pretended to throw the sign into the street. The witch was fooled, jumping forward to try and save the sign from the oncoming traffic. On her own the woman would have landed on the safe side of the curb and realized what had happened. But as she moved to grab the sign Darla stepped aside and gave the small of the woman’s back a little push. That was all it took for the witch, in her high heels, to stumble into the street, directly in the path of a speeding SUV.

Darla had a big smile on her face, but was surprised when she saw the vehicle suddenly stop, inches from the woman. The cow-dressed girl hadn’t noticed the witch make a quick waving motion with her hand as she fell into the street.

And now Darla was confused as to why she couldn’t drop her smile.

Meanwhile, the witch seemed far from terrified about having almost been killed. She simply caught her balance and then turned and walked back onto the sidewalk. The look on her face was somber. And it was right about now that Darla realized she couldn’t move any part of her body save for her eyes. And all the cars seemed to have stopped.

The witch walked right up to Darla’s face and grinned.

“Although my spell froze you in time, just as it did everyone else, you’re the only one who’s aware of what’s going on right now.”

Spell? Froze? Darla repeated in her head.

“If you haven’t already guessed, my witch theme isn’t just for holding punny signs. I am a witch. Well, one in training. I cast a spell to temporarily pause time to save myself. And now I’m going to cast another. On you. Because you tried to kill me.”

Darla was beginning to think she was in over her head.

“Now, what would be fitting? Maybe a transformation. I’m quite good at body modification, if you couldn’t guess. You don’t think all this just grew out of me at puberty, do you?” the bikini-clad woman asked, waving at her body.

Just please let me go…was all Darla could think.

“Transformation…transformation…what was it your sign said? ‘Cow me?’ I think I’ll do just that. Should be pretty easy with that outfit. First, a little amnesia spell on that poor driver, then we’ll release the freeze…”

The return of her ability to move caused Darla to nearly stumble into the moving traffic. Before she could say anything, the witch was waving her hand at her.

“…and apply your fate.”

Darla opened her mouth to curse the busty spellcaster, but of course all that came out was a, “Mooo!”

In surprise the slim girl clapped her hands to her face, and was shocked when something much harder than plastic struck her nose. Looking down she could see her gloves were changing from stiff rubber to hard carotene. Within the false hooves Darla could feel her fingers fusing together and to the surrounding material. It was a strange…thick feeling.

Suddenly the same sensation invaded her nose, causing Darla to sneeze. Instinctively she brought her hooves up to face, but instead of bumping the plastic cow snout she could feel that the broad nostrils and nose were combining with her own flesh. A large bovine snout was quickly taking over most of Darla’s face. As the elastic separated and fell around her shoulders, the hairband holding on her once-fake horns also dropped to the ground as the hard spike pushed through her skin and became one with her skull.

“Mooo!” Darla shouted again, this time more out of fear than anger. No cars seemed to notice what was happening, but she could feel a tingle in her spine as the tale became a part of her own flesh. Her top and shorts pulled tight, and the fabric grew into her skin as fur. It made her arms, legs, breasts, ass, and every fold of her now-exposed pussy itch something terrible.

And hooves would be useless to sate the sensation.

“Don’t worry,” the witch grinned, “Maybe a few days stuck as part cow and you’ll-”

She was cut off by Darla shoving her into traffic once more.

The second assault was because Darla had not only felt her legs and feet fusing to the plastic hooves, but the sensation of the udder becoming part of her body was too much for her. Hoping the woman’s death would stop it, she lashed out.

To the same effect as her first attempt.

“Well, that was stupid of you…” the witch sighed as she stepped to safety from the immobilized traffic. Once again Darla could only follow her calm stride with her eyes, trying desperately to shout out anything, even if it was only to be another angry “Moo!”

“I had planned to just let you struggle through a few days as a freak to teach you a lesson, but clearly two attempted murders qualify for something…different.”

With another wave of the witch’s hand Darla felt her stiff body shift, as she bent over at the waist. The changes to her form were happening much more quickly now; she could feel her musculature shifting, her arms and legs becoming a little more muscular. Her joints shifted while her back and neck reoriented slightly. Her shoulders spread apart. Her ears stretched and thinned, a metal tag forming from the air and attaching to one with a pinch. The itch of sprouting fur flowed across Darla’s body, and she could feel the udder grow larger and heavier beneath her.

Then, as she saw the traffic begin to move again, her body experienced a strange tightness. She still could not move, even though the nearby vehicles could. Darla could sense that whatever had been done to her was complete. The witch was walking back and forth as if admiring a work of art.

“Excellent,” the other woman smiled, “…and I know just where to put you.”

Before Darla could even contemplate that sentence she vanished.

Forty minutes later the manager of BullStop drove by again, and took notice of his missing employee. When he pulled over and addressed the bikini witch – an action he savored – she only replied, “She’s surveying the area for a better spot.”

With his eyes glued to the bared mid-section and side-boob of the jiggling advertisement, the manager never thought to take a look at his own establishment. If he had, he would have noticed the new plastic statue of a cow perched on all fours atop the roof.

And he definitely wouldn’t have been aware of the screaming mind trapped within, cursing at the black spots which absorbed every bit of the sun’s heat, while she wondered when the witch-in-training would deign her ready to be human once more.

If she ever did.