Pep Rally VII

Note: This is a story-prompt for varvi.

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Six months later, Sam was continually shocked by how much her life had changed from its original trajectory before she had come into her affliction.

Sam and Scott now lived together in a large house they had purchased with their combined savings. They had six children (three boys and three girls), and Sam spent her days juggling and nursing them as Scott went to work for his father’s company. He was always eager to help out when he came home in the evenings.

Sam struggled with the lactation. She had to pump her breasts almost constantly, and if she wasn’t, she was seeping into her shirts or squirting at the most inconvenient of times. Her breasts seemed to swell up each moment she was not pumping them of their milk surplus. They resembled four honeydews stacked on her chest, nipples bulging out, mounds bobbing. Sam was often overheated just from the warm milk straining to get out of her. And so she went about the day almost continually connected to the pump machine (when she wasn’t nursing).

She and Scott also had to deal with an increased sex drive. Often it was a struggle just to keep their hands off each other. They employed every form of protection imaginable, but it was still incredibly difficult trying not to fall pregnant again. They’d had some close calls already, and it almost seemed like a futile ambition.

Their vocabulary had devolved entirely to “mooo.” Other people could no longer understand them, but could, at least, understand their intention. It wasn’t as difficult as it had originally seemed. Sam was sometimes sort of happy to have the unique language just between them.

And Penny. Penny had been staying with them since graduation. The other girl was unable hide her changes from her parents for very long, not when they were bursting the forefront—literally. She had gotten huge and round just has rapidly as Sam had, and her parents had kicked her out, unable to come to terms with how their daughter had changed. Words like “freak,” had been used, or so Sam had heard, the night Penny had showed up on her doorstep tearful and inconsolable.

But it had been months, and Penny was doing a lot better. She had really taken to Sam and Scott’s children, and had slowly come to accept her condition. Over time she had progressively developed even more changes than Sam had. By then Penny was six months pregnant, though she looked much larger if they were comparing it to normal pregnancy standards. She had two cute cow ears protruding from her head, a cow nose, and even cow hind legs with hooves. Four large breasts wobbled on her chest, an udder bulged out in the groins of her skirts, and a swishing cow tail protruded out behind her.

Like Sam and Scott, her language was now limited to, “mooo,” though they all understood each other perfectly, English seeming almost archaic in the household.

Only recently, Penny had gotten a job at a unique strip club for people with her unique affliction. Sam would sometimes watch her get ready, sort of fascinated by the ritual as Penny went through the meticulous process of painting her nails, then her hooves bright colors that would shine in the shaded lighting of the club. She would ease her round, full, tender breasts into two different strapless push-up bras that were just as brightly colored as her hooves. Then she would squeeze her swollen body into absurdly skimpy dresses, yet it was all so gorgeous and refined at the same time. Sam marveled at Penny’s scarlet-colored lips, the glitter around her eyes, the way the stretched material of her short dress hugged her in all the right places, even to emphasize her plump backside and protruding belly button.

Sam was proud that Penny was getting back on her feet, and sort of living vicariously through the other girl, when Sam was at home, covered in squirming newborns, feeling rather matronly and dowdy.

But Sam was pleased with her life, and proud of her strange, new family. She wouldn’t have traded it for so-called normalcy.