Farm Land

By Gregor Daniels

A trio of young urban explorers leave the city behind to create their latest YouTube exposé: a documentary of the seemingly empty town of Cedar Bottom, West Virginia. What they find is a small community where cars are abandoned and meals are still on the table. Then the changes start. Now It's a race against time to find a cure and spread the truth of what happened--before the urges take over.

This book contains explicit scenes and is intended for adults only. It features scenes of gender transformation, animal transformation, and lots of teats.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gregor Daniels
• Release date: Jun 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463848166

Gregor Daniels

Gregor Daniels is an erotica author that specializes in gender swap and erotic transformation fetishes. New stories are typically released weekly and feature a variety of themes. Have you ever had fantasies to be a girl? Then look no further ...Contact the author directly on Twitter to discuss stories, share your favorite ideas and fantasies, scenes, and characters, or to just talk about nothing in particular.

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Copyright © 2018 Gregor Daniels

All rights reserved.

Only ADULTS beyond this point.

All characters are 18 years of age or older.

JUSTIN

Welcome, ladies and gents, to Bumfuck Nowhere. Population: rednecks, inbreds, and the one and only Mr. Hands fan club. For that he received a slap over the back of his head, but it was worth it.

Sammie—the owner of the hand—replied from the backseat: Stop spreading stereotypes, asshole. I came from a rural town, and it wasn’t so bad.

Is it still a stereotype if it’s true?

"Well, my parents were only second cousins."

Justin was glad he hadn’t been sipping from his Coke, or else it would’ve been coming out of his nose.

Outside the passenger window of the Econoline were the first signs welcoming him to the town—not Bumfuck Nowhere; Cedar Bottom, West Virginia. Some out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere hellhole. But Tanner’s older brother always had the best scoops, and the mention of Cedar Bottom had come with relentless recommendation, the you-gotta-see-this-shit promise from one of the pros in the business.

So, they were here to check it out. And Justin’s brand-new Canon XHA1 was about to be broken in. He pointed the lens out the window as they rode up into town, and he slid into the narrator role.

We’re now entering Cedar Bottom. According to the last census, seventy-eight people live here, but we haven’t seen another car on the road in the past twenty miles. Tanner’s brother said this place is now a ghost town, and no one knows why, so we’re gonna find out what happened.

Justin’s first impression didn’t come from the two-pump gas station with no vehicles in the lot, or the eighties Oldsmobile parked on the side of the road with flashing blinkers—his first impression came from the air. It smelled like shit. Cowpies. Barn stench. It made his mind recall an old field trip from elementary school when his class had been hauled out to a rural farm to see how cows were milked and such.

Tanner caught a whiff of it too. Damn, Justin, I know you been suffocating people with your ass since you came out of the womb, but I didn’t know you’d upgraded to murdering whole towns.

Wasn’t me, man. That’s animal dookie. He tried rolling up the window, but the rank smell still came through the vents on the dash.

We better get ten million hits for this, Sammie said. In the side mirror, Justin saw her pinching her nose.

I thought you were a country girl? Tanner said.

I am. Doesn’t mean I grew up on a farm.

Tanner drove the Econoline up to the town’s only intersection and came to a halt. The stoplights were still in working order. Looking both ways, Justin saw more cars parked between the slanted lines in what was Cedar Bottom’s tiny downtown—which really was just a hardware store, a café, and one other building with boards on the windows. At least twenty or thirty black birds were perched on the power lines, as if watching this new four-wheeled visitor entering a deserted town.

I guess he was right, Tanner said over the idle hum of the engine. Place is dead fucking empty. He took a left—using his blinker—and drove the two hundred feet or so to the edge of the town limits, pulled a U-turn, and came right back to the intersection.

We should’ve brought sanitary masks, Sammie said.

Justin and Tanner both uttered a What? and turned around to look at her.

"You know. Masks. She cupped a hand over her face. Oh, come on. If everyone’s dead or something, surely the thought of a disease crossed your minds, right? People around here don’t have access to health care, and the nearest city is two hours away. If it’s something airborne, then we’ve already inhaled it."

Disease had crossed Justin’s mind, and Sammie’s reasoning made a hell of a lot of sense. That’s why she was the expert in the group, the big-time college grad. And also why she dealt with all the video editing and splicing.

Justin’s camera was still on; he aimed it at the driver of their expedition.

Tanner took the cue: Disease. What else? Mass suicide?

Seventy-eight people, though?