"What the-! Who are you, and why are you in my bedchambers?!" A voice shouts, rousing you from unconsciousness.
"W-whuh...? Oh, my head." You groan as you push yourself up, but as the bleariness clears from your vision, your speech trails off, your mouth dropping open at the being in front of you.
Standing before you is perhaps the most goddamn curvy woman you've ever seen. Long legs, thick thighs, large ass, wide hips, slim waist, and tits... dear god those TITS. They hang out proudly from open front of the thin silken gown she wears, and each one is easily as large as your torso, nearly completely covering her stomach and with perky erect nipples that you could swear are leaking a bit of milk. Her shoulders are broad, and you can see a good deal of toned muscle on her frame - clearly, this woman works out. But despite her absolutely gorgeous body, it's pretty obvious that this mysterious woman isn't human. A long tail tipped with a tuft of black fur flicks White fur covers her from around the cloven hooves she has instead of feet to the top of her head, which is definitely the head of a cow, albeit one with quite human-like features and a head of smooth shoulder-length raven hair, complete with a pair of small but sharp-looking horns and cow-like ears
"I said..." The cow-woman repeats herself, snapping you out of your staring. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my bedroom?"
"U-uh, I'm Jack." You stutter out. "Jack Westfield, f-from Chicago?"
The bovine female snarls. "Lying about your homeland will not save you, whelp!" She growls, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and lifting you up effortlessly - as she does so, you realize that the woman isn't just stacked, she's tall. You're not a very big guy, only about 5'4", and this cow lady towers over you by at least a foot or two.
"I-I'm not lying!" You stammer out, struggling in vain. "Y-you know, Chicago? Windy City, in Illinois? United States of America? On Earth?"
The cow-woman's glare tells you all you need to know.
"Shit," You groan. "I'm either high, dead, or in some kind of alternate cow dimension." Given that you're pretty sure that hallucinations can't lift you by the throat and that you can't feel things while you're dead, the latter option is the only one left.
"Wait." The cow interrupts, releasing her hold on you and letting you fall to the ground. "You say you're from another world?"
"Unless you're a hallucination, and I doubt you are, then yeah." You reply.
The cow's furious look immediately changes to one of surprise and delight at that. "That's... that's perfect, then! You're really the one. Out of all the queendoms, you fell into mine, and right at my feet. This must be a sign!"
"W-what?" You ask bewilderedly.
"To make a long story short, your arrival here has been prophesized." The cow explains. "It was foretold that a male would come from another world to wed at least one of the queens of this land. It's been thousands of years, but it finally happened! You're the one!"
Your mouth drops open at this. "I'm... I'm gonna marry you?" You splutter.
The cow nods enthusiastically, beaming with delight. "Yep! Oh, I totally forgot! My name is Clara, queen of the central farmlands." She giggles a bit at your dumbstruck expression, then composes herself again. "But first, there's something we need to do to make the whole thing official."
"And that is...?" You ask nervously, unsure of what's about to happen. If you could get married, nonetheless to a freaking cow of royal blood, within five seconds of arriving here, you're honestly ready for anything.
"Oh, it's nothing much." Clara clarifies. "We just need to..."
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