Cow Girl III, Part 22

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Summary: Sequel to Cow Girl II. Decades following Lucy's ordeal, the cow-person condition is becoming an epidemic. Laura has the misfortune of contracting the gene. Contains: Pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, multiple breasts, udders, lactation, and more.

-

Her dress was formfitting but still soft and flexible with room for stretching. The hem just barely covered her ass, the neckline dipping between the cleavage of both pairs of breasts.

It still astonished her how perfect her breasts were, large as they were. With no support, they sat perched on her chest, bobbing gently with her movements, round and full with no hint of sagging. Her large nipples bulged out uncomfortably in the stretchy material. She shivered as Brad’s fingers grazed them.

Brad was behind her. They could have danced facing each other, but when Brad was pressed, flush, behind her, it allowed for the most contact. And maybe that was what he wanted. She felt his length pressed against her swollen ass and he only seemed to pull her closer. They continued to sway together on the dance floor as she doggedly tried not to reveal his effect on her.

His hands roved freely and she could hardly be bothered as he caressed her belly, his hot palms rubbing into her flanks, then her hips, and just trailing idly, gliding up her chest and down again. His two hands could not connect at her front, and somehow, she didn’t mind it.

He nuzzled her neck. He inhaled her. His ministrations were gentle, adoring, almost…queasily…loving. It made her want to tear away from him but press closer all at once.

“Laura…”

“Hm?” Her eyes drifted shut. Despite the soreness, tension, heaviness, and her perpetual horror with her continually changing body, this was euphoria. This moment. She couldn’t make sense of it but she didn’t want it to end.

His exploring hands remained on her breasts until her eyes snapped open. He was no longer ghosting them, instead circling one with his fingers, taking hold of another to rub between his digits. They ached and tingled, her whole chest growing warm.

“Stop it,” she admonished weakly. “They’re…tight,” she groaned.

“Yeah,” Brad murmured against her shoulder. He moved his hands to her other two breasts and proceeded with his not-quite-torture. “They’ve been tight for a while.”

“Brad—”

“Shhhhhh…” he hushed her. “They’re engorged.”

He gave her nipples a blatant squeeze that made her jerk as she tried to muffle her groan by pressing her lips together. Her cheeks burned as Brad continued to experimentally grope, tweak, and squeeze her mounds, dealing the most abuse to her nipples. He tugged one, causing her to shudder. It looked absurdly distended even through her dress material. “Ohhhh...” she moaned. “I don’t feel so…” She didn’t know whether it felt bad or good, just that something was cumulating, building inside her. She felt her mounds heating up with searing pressure.

“This will help, I promise.”

He was a damn liar. She sagged against him. “Hahhhh…hahhhh…” The fact that Brad held her up was a testament to how strong he was. She felt him hardening against her ass. He was enjoying this way too much. Her body was moist, sweat trickling between her pressed cleavage.

In her periphery, people continued to mingle and dance around them, paying little mind to Brad’s dastardly perversions. Maybe this was all too common at a cow-club. She grunted out as he groped her some more.

He tugged her lower left and upper right nipple in tandem. She released a gasp, her groin twinging. “I’m gonna…”

“There we go,” said Brad. Her nipples burned.

He took her hands, and brought them to her chest, to glide over her swollen nipples, where they encountered…moisture. She could feel the way her dress was sticking against the small patches of wetness as her four nipples.

“I’m…leaking,” she managed, rather astonished. “What did you—nrrgghhhhh!” Her four mounds tightened, nipples tensing. Her four breasts jerked in growth right there against her hands.

“Oh.” Brad huffed out a laugh. “You’re going to—”

“Nggghhhhh!” She cried as her four nipples gushed. The top of her dress was immediately soaked, warm moisture seeping down into the material against her stomach, making the fit all the more revealing, the cloth pasted against her swollen body so ever contour, curve, and crevice was blatant, her belly button bulging, almost pulsating as she gasped for breath.

Milk pushed and pushed out form the throbbing mounds on her chest. “What did you do?” she cried, clutching them the best she could. She shivered and struggled against the compulsion to arch.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” said Brad gently, and he was suddenly guiding her off the dance floor. Laura allowed him to, feeling too disoriented to do much else. Soon he was leading her down a small corridor and pushing his way through a door. They emerged into a small, brightly lit, single bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind them.

“Oh god,” Laura said, once she turned to the mirror. Her four breasts looked blatantly bigger. They could hardly be contained in the low neckline of her dress, all four looking prepared to pop free at any moment.

Brad helped her back towards the toilet. “Sit,” he ordered.

She complied, if just because her legs were tired and back was stinging. He helped her ease down, and she spread her legs wide to make room for her udder as it squished between her thighs.

Brad pushed the straps of her dress down, freeing her mounds, all four of which immediately squirted against him. They were bloated and round, gleaming with sweat and milk, heaving with her forceful breathing. Despite it all, they both released a laugh, hers a bit horrified, as milk continued to squirt against Brad’s clothes.

He quieted, his smile softening, before he got down on his knees between her thighs. He leaned forward, closing his lips around her lower left nipple, and—

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” Laura cried. Her thighs twitching, she pulled him closer, pressing his face tight against her fat flesh.

Brad sucked hard, and Laura thought that he needed several more mouths, but this would do for now, this would have to. She shuddered. “Brad…ngghhh…feels so good…” She knew her cheeks were stained red, as though with inebriation. But Brad had that effect on her. His free hand squeezed her opposite tit.

“Mmghhhhh…” Her hips jerked despite all the weight and tension perched upon them. “You ruined my dress,” she groaned.

“Sorry,” he responded in an insincere mumble.
“Why,” she panted, as he slowly, painstakingly, trailed his tongue across her flesh until he found another nipple.

“You were so tight,” said Brad thickly. He took a short draw. “It couldn’t have been comfortable.”

Laura didn’t mention that this was hardly any more comfortable, she just moaned, “You idiot,” as her body quivered. “Ah…don’t, don’t stop…oooohhhhhhh!” In a dizzying mix of tension and pleasure, her body seized, moisture trickling into the basin beneath her.

In the meantime, Brad continued to suck, as she slumped back, boneless and tingling.

-

By the time they exited the bathroom together, the club had begun to wind down, but not significantly enough that they had to call it a night.

Though Brad had spent an hour helping to relieve her milk surplus, her breasts felt full and warm, nipples tense and swollen, the sensations cumulating to make her feel like a damn about to burst. Her control was negligible at best, her body languid and jittery from orgasm.

“Let’s just say goodnight to Kim,” she mumbled from her spot under Brad’s arm.

“Friend of yours?”

“Mm.” They made their way towards the elevator.

As they waited, Laura absently ran her hands along her swollen abdomen. The creatures inside seemed to be constantly squirming lately, and the weight of the mound was a constant pressure on her hips and groin. She really did need to sit down. A grimace crossed her face as her skin pushed out just slightly against where her hand laid on her girth.

She felt her phone buzz in her bag. She pulled it out and glanced at the message on the face, to which she nearly rolled her eyes. She could practically hear Veronica’s drawling voice as Laura read:

Me and Mindy got locked out while checking the meter outside. Send me your address so we can pick up a key.

Laura impatiently typed the name of the club in response, though she had doubts as to whether the bouncer would let her roommates in. She snorted as the thought of Veronica’s looks of distaste and judgmental gaze—and of Mindy’s bubbliness and excessive enthusiasm. Laura couldn’t wait to graduate and be rid of those stupid whores.

“After you.” Brad distracted Laura from her thoughts. The elevator had arrived. She made her way into it, feeling Brad follow closely behind.

He attached himself to her as he had on the dance floor, and it almost felt protective. Soon they were on the third floor, making their way to Kim’s table, and just before they could reach what had to be Kurt’s gangly form, a slim girl swooped in to accost them.

“Laura, is that you? I can’t believe it, what did you do?” the girl demanded, her voice high and whiny and her mojito splashing over the edges of the glass she was holding.

Laura squinted at the girl. She was vaguely familiar. It took another moment for Laura to realize that it was one of the people from the support group. “Hi…?”

“Violet,” said the girl in an aloof manner that betrayed no offense. She brushed her blonde bangs out of her face. Violet attended the meetings diligently, and Laura found it odd that her body had not changed over the time that Laura had been going as well. It was only then that Laura truly recalled her.

“I’ve done everything,” Violet went on. It was hard to determine if she was tipsy or just a rambler. “Nothing seems to work. I’ve tried gaining weight, hormone treatments, even stole some of my sister’s milk from the fridge. Do you know my sister is getting ready to pop out her third litter? I’m practically a freak in my family.” She took a long sip of her drink.

Laura grimaced.

“You’re looking gorgeous by the way,” Violet went on, oblivious of Laura’s growing annoyance. “I’m loving the dress. Where did you get it? You know, sometimes I just wander around the cow-shops and fantasize about fitting into the clothes. One time I even tried something on. Pathetic right?” Violet snorted sadly. “It was their smallest size and was hanging off me. Just baggy and misshapen. The cows were all laughing at me.” Her eyes became glassy.

“So you come from a…cow family?” said Brad politely. He idly rubbed Laura’s shoulders.

“Oh yes.” Violet nodded eagerly. “My mom and twenty-three sisters—all cows.”

Laura gulped at the thought of one person having that many children.

“But none of the genes passed down to me.” Violet huffed. “I’m just your proverbial black sheep.” She gave a watery smile.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean you’re immune…” said Brad thoughtfully.

It sparked an idea in Laura. “Have you tried the transmission route?” she said with faux amiability.

Violet blinked. “Well I—I have,” she admitted.

“Well you haven’t tried bull-boy,” Laura said decisively, already beginning to drag Violet across the room to the booth where the horned young man was now brooding by himself, arms crossed, his bulging muscles straining his shirt. She shoved Violet his way, and the blonde practically fell into his lap. “Bull—this is Violet. Violet—bull. I’m sure you’ve met? Or maybe not. Violet’s immune,” Laura added in a loud, suggestive whisper. Violet blushed to her ears.

Making a crude hand gesture as parting, Laura turned and waddled back over to Brad. She was panting by the time she reached him, one hand on her lower back.

“Just going to toss her to the wolves like that?” said Brad as he helped her over to Kim’s table.

Laura shrugged. “She asked for it,” she said, straining a smile to Kim and Kurt who were seated on one side of the both, the two a tangle of limbs.

“Brad, this is Kim and Kurt. Kim and Kurt—Brad’s the bull-dick that started this for me.” She gave a facetious wave to her huge belly.

“Patient zero,” said Kurt with a nerdy chortle.

“Delighted,” Kim said with a Cheshire Cat grin. She motioned to the bench opposite them. “Join us.”