The entire situation had finally worn me down to a frazzle. I really didn't mind the whole rat thing and the fact that I had to live with all the other rats who I detested just like any other normal person. One minute I am a guy with lots of dough and chasing broads to give them a taste of a little bit of Riley's stock in trade rough treatment. Then, the silly bus comes around the corner. After I get scraped off the windshield I walk through the bright white light into unconsciousness. Then, the very next instant, I find myself looking for food in the alley with all the other rats.
I never really thought about rats when I was concentrating on boozing it up and shagging pretty girls in doorways. I'm sure the rats were always there but they kind of stayed out of sight because they all knew us humans were not fans and, in fact, were their mortal enemies.
It was the mirror on the dresser in the abandoned crack house that confirmed my new persona left a lot to be desired. The only thing that looked interesting was my long tail but it sure didn't make up for my missing eight inch cock. At the very beginning in my new rat-infested world, I tended to avoid the other rats because I didn't trust them at all. I mean, how can you trust a rat who is only interested in food or mounting an unsuspecting female rat?
After a few nights, I gave in and lived it up with a succession of slow female rats too fat to scamper out of my way. I just closed my eyes and pretended they were all Marilyn Monroe. I noticed the rat population started to drop rapidly around me and I was informed by a fat little girl rat being held down by my front paws that the city had started a "rat-removal program" to rid the poorer neighborhoods of the increasing numbers of rodents.
I decided to check with the rat in charge that was known by the moniker of "King Rat" to find out how dangerous the situation had really become. He was the fattest rat that I had ever seen and I knew he was pretty old because of the grey whiskers.
"Excuse me, your highness; I wonder if there is any safe place for a rat like me that likes to mind his own business?"
The old fellow stopped chewing on the interesting chunk of cheddar and looked over at me with eyes that were already showing early signs of advancing cataract shadows.
"Come a little closer, young rat, into the light where I can see you clearly."
He looked me over with a proprietary eye and I began to wonder if he was one of those rats who swung both ways.
"Ahh ... I believe you are the much discussed Mr. Riley, the Irish rat with the over-active cock. Well, tell me, Mr. Riley, have you adjusted to life as a rat? It is a rat that you are and a rat that you have ever been."
I looked at the aging rat King and didn't have a good retort to show him I didn't care because I was unhappy with my life as a rat and would do anything to change back to my former self.
It was almost as if the rat King read my mind and he pointed his paw at me.
"You would do anything, would you? Well, in that case, I am sending you back as a woman instead of a man and I want to see how you fare being on the receiving side of men's cocks. It would be interesting to see how well you take the humiliation and the indignities that you seemed to dispense with little care onto the feelings of unsuspecting females."
Before I had a chance to tell him exactly what I thought of his job performance as the leader of all the rats in the whole rat world, I found that I was transported to an open field filled with a herd of milk cows shuffling back to the barn to be milked by the cold machinery that drained their swollen udders of the vitamin packed liquid still more expensive than a gallon of petrol.
The grass was tickling my bare skin and one of my feet was buried in a mound of pungent smelling offal deposited by a wayward cow on her way to the barn. As if that was not bad enough, when I looked down between my legs, the shock of seeing a familiar female slit instead of a hanging eight inch dick was enough to make me sit down on my backside in complete dismay.
My new life as a chick was infinitely much better than being a rat in a rat's world but I would much have preferred being a man like in my old incarnation. Anyway, beggars can't be choosers and I picked my nicely rounded ass up off the grass and headed to the barn just like the herd of cows.
There was a bunch of giggling young female farm workers in the barn. They weren't doing the milking by hand but were just attaching the cow's udders to the metal sheaths that would pump them dry a lot quicker and a lot more efficiently than a human hand. I wondered if there was some sort of device to do the same thing for horny males all over the world eliminating the need for copulation with reticent females.
The girls saw me standing there naked with one foot covered in smelly cow manure and their giggles turned to laughter. After a few minutes of depressing ridicule, they washed off my foot and gave me some items of clothing to cover up my naked body. There was no bra to cover my boobs because none of them was quite large enough to fit my DD twins. I never was much interested in girl's breasts being more of an ass man myself but I knew most of my friends preferred a female with something big up there to play with.
One of the girls took me down to the farmhouse and I was turned over to an older woman with the fattest backside I ever did see. She must have liked her own cooking because her flanks were so wide it would take two men to cover her from the rear. Her name was Josie and she told me that the farm was owned by two brothers who were called Joshua and Jerimiah. Apparently, they used all female help with the herd and the tending of the farm. She lowered her voice and whispered to me.
"The older brother, Mr. Joshua is much attracted to humping the girls from behind just like the other farm animals but his brother, Mr. Jerimiah is content just to spank them for their sins and drains his juices on them to punish them for their sinful thoughts. Don't be too hard in your thoughts about them because they are both fine, upstanding men and a credit to our church on Sundays."
I was a bit taken aback by this revelation but kept my thoughts to myself. After all, who was I to be critical of the two farmers who were just exercising their employer rights in using the working girls for their entertainment providing they did not object?