Cow Girl III, Part 21

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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.

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Wearing the formfitting dress and a pair of black gladiator sandals, Laura struggled and heaved herself out of the back of the cab. Once she was upright on the sidewalk in front of the club, she took a moment to catch her breath. Her belly lurched with movement, her four breasts jiggling slightly, as they were shelved atop it. She was still getting accustomed to her body following her recent growth spurt, and she took a careful step forward, hoping it wasn’t too exaggerated a waddle.

“Laura!?” screeched a familiarly airy voice.

Laura’s eyes snapped to the left, and she was horrified to see her friend Stacy here, of all places.

Stacy approached. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, not at all dressed for partying. She was so skinny, Laura almost felt concern. To think, Laura had been the same size not too long ago.

“What are you doing here?” Laura managed, trying to ignore the way Stacy’s eyes bulged out of their sockets then swept over Laura’s profoundly swollen body.

“I…I come here all the time…you know…to make fun of all the cow-whores.” Stacy finally lifted her eyes to meet Laura’s again. She awkwardly shifted in her flip flops. “It’s been a while, Laura. I know you had started to put on weight, but…what—what happened to you?” Again she gazed over Laura’s body, her nose wrinkling as she did.

“Brad happened,” Laura grumbled.

“Brad’s a cow?” said Stacy in shock. Though she maintained eye contact, her fingers were furiously working, typing up text messages on her phone.

Jaw clenched, Laura nodded.

“Omigosh, Lor, I’m so sorry. I had no idea! I can’t believe this—I mean, just look at you.” Stacy gave a slight shudder. “You must feel like garbage.”

“I—”

“Complete garbage. I mean, look at your stomach. And you have—oh god—two pairs of tits.” Laura was momentarily blinded as Stacy’s camera phone flashed a photo.

Laura grinded her teeth. “You should leave, Stacy,” she said, struggling to control her temper. She was oblivious of how she had managed to tolerate Stacy through their first few semesters of college together.

Stacy looked sincerely distressed. “I can’t abandon you like this, Lor. This is completely fucked up. How far along are you? You’re just huge. You look like you’re about to pop. I’m calling Pam, and Terry, and Reese.” Stacy was furiously typing with her thumbs.

Laura’s remaining patience evaporated. “Get the hell out of here, Stacy!” she snapped.

Stacy’s arms dropped. She looked aghast.

“You don’t belong,” Laura added in a growl. Back held as erect she could manage, she turned on her heel and wobbled her way to the club.

Admission was fairly easy. The bouncer gave one look at her then stepped aside. Laura didn’t know whether to be offended or satisfied.

Though the exterior resembled an old warehouse, the interior was shockingly beautiful and expansive. The ground floor was designed in hues of black and red. Music was blasting. A large dance floor took up most of the room, lights flashing to the pulse of the music. The floor was covered with swaying bodies, many of them round and swollen like hers. The outskirts of the dance floor had carpeting and couches, where people lounged, drank, and kissed.

Laura felt her phone buzz in her purse. She pulled it out to glance at the face, where she had received a text message from Kim.

3rd floor.

After some glancing around, Laura made her way to the elevator, which was transparent, lights beaming on the people clustered inside. As she made her way to join them, Laura felt warm and breathless, but she didn’t know whether it was from the exertion of walking around after all her recent growth, or if she was just wound up from her confrontation with Stacy. Cat’s out of the bag, she mused. It didn’t seem there was anyone left to hide from. Her classmates knew, her roommates knew, her parents knew, and now her friends knew.

It felt weird to be completely open with her condition. She looked around at all the cow men and women in various states of undress, looking pregnant to bursting, yet decked out in the slinkiest club attire she had ever seen. She had become one of them somehow. She had gotten pulled into the absurd culture that was developing.

Laura squeezed herself into the lift to find herself pressed at all sides with bellies, asses, udders, and tits. The innards of a stranger’s girth wriggled against her own plump body, and it made her feel a little sick.

When she emerged onto the third floor, she took a deep, relieved breath, belly heaving. It was much cooler here, the room inundated in a deep blue hue that gave the sense of being underwater. The music was softer. There were tables, booths, and couches, but no dance floor.

“Laura!” someone called.

Laura turned to see a rounded mass proceeding towards her. It took her a moment to make out Kim’s face above it.

“Glad you made it.” Kim grinned, pressing her belly against hers, as they had no hopes of making contact in a hug.

Laura didn’t know why it was less queasy to be pressed against Kim this way, but it felt more natural, and innocent. She felt one of her offspring prod against Kim’s navel, and it was sort of nice to have their children interact in that weird, indirect way.

As Laura gazed at their two mounds, she came to realize that she had definitely gotten bigger than Kim in the stomach area. Her mound was pressurized and heaving, and still felt as though it was subtly stretching. Laura rubbed her back, feeling uneasy. She would end up like Wendy if this shit kept up.

“You’re blowing up!” Kim said what they were both thinking. “You should sit down, bitch, you’re fucking huge!”

She must have looked huge if even Kim was urging her to sit down. Yet it was somehow less offensive when Kim said it than when Stacy had. Laura scowled regardless, but followed as Kim turned to lead her off to a table. Laura was treated with an eyeful of Kim’s huge ass, which was halfway pushing out beneath her tight skirt.

Kim was wearing a fishnet crop shirt with pasties, her four round breasts sticking out on display. She had also put on a black spandex skirt that was pulled up to her navel, but hardly managed to cover much else. Her udder poked out beneath it every time she moved, her ass meanwhile rocking and bobbing behind her, looking obscenely plump in the thong she had donned.

Laura eased herself into the indicated booth. Thankfully, the table left plenty of room for her rounded belly, her thighs spreading under the surface to allow her udder to squish down between them. Her belly shelved and pushed her breasts higher, making them close to popping out of the plunge neckline of her dress.

A server arrived and arbitrarily provided Laura with a mountain of mozzarella sticks. Without really thinking about it, Laura began to compulsively shovel them into her mouth.

Standing by the table, Kim groaned and stuck her breasts out even more. “I’m gonna spring a leak soon,” she whined, and unabashedly reached down to cup the bulging shape of her udder. She cradled and rubbed it.

Kim’s breasts did look rather bloated and flushed, but no worse than Laura’s.

“Do you know bull-boy is here?” said Kim, motioning with her head to a table on the other side of the room. Laura glanced in the indicated direction, and could make out a muscled form lounged on a couch with some others. Her eyes flickered to the pearly horns protruding from the person’s hair. It was the quiet guy from the support group, the one who rarely ever talked. “I heard he got someone preggers just by sneezing in their direction,” Kim went on.

“Yeah?” said Laura, humoring her friend. She found her eyes lingering on the guy’s wall of muscle. She couldn’t touch, but she could certainly appreciate.

“Yeah—do you remember what he said at the last meeting? That he’s taking a chastity vow? We’ll see how that goes.” Kim snorted.

“Sucks for him,” said Laura.

“Sucks for all of us,” Kim responded. “Us cows can’t fuck because we’ll just get packed with more babies. The bulls can’t fuck because they’re hella fertile. The state government is talking about making transmission illegal, but lots of people are embracing it. The UK is considering a ban on cows altogether—whatever the hell that means! Then we have politicians like Kirkston in the news talking about establishing a cow-island.”

Laura was surprised that the conversation had turned to politics. “Bizarre,” she said, continuing to munch.

“I know, it’s kind of—oh, there’s Kurt.” Kim spun, again flashing her enormous ass. Her face lit up as the palest, skinniest, nerdiest guy Laura had ever seen sauntered their way with two cosmos in hand. He handed one of the drinks to Kim then adjusted his round bifocals. Two oversized front teeth poked out to nip at his dry bottom lip in a would-be seductive expression. His eyes trailed Kim’s body up and down.

“Laura, this is my boyfriend,” Kim said, leaning into the nerd.

Laura blinked several times, completely nonplussed. Her lip curled, but she forced herself to be polite. “Why…hello,” she managed as she gawked.

“Hi.” Kurt’s voice was predictably nasally. He put on a creepy smile.

“I was just telling Laura about how bad you bulls have it,” Kim simpered.

That guy’s a bull? Laura was astonished.

“Oh no, it’s definitely worse for the ladies,” Kurt disagreed.

Kim laid her hand on his shirt, gripping it in her fingers. “God, I miss the dick so much,” she whined. “I miss you ramming your monster bull cock into my—”

“Now Kimberly, we still do everything else,” Kurt snorted and guffawed in a creepy nerd-chuckle.

For some reason, Laura’s eyes strayed downwards, and she was not disappointed by what she saw. Kurt’s package was a visibly large mound that strained the front of his jeans, even in his evidently soft state.

As the couple continued to flirt and banter, Laura carefully eased herself out of the booth and heaved herself up, flushing from the exertion. The pair hardly noticed as she wandered off, and she felt irrationally annoyed for some reason. It certainly wasn’t…jealousy?

Laura descended to the second floor of the club, which proved a pleasant mix between the first and the third. It was neither the electronic chaos of the first floor, nor was it a lounge, as the third floor had been. On a small dance floor, people swayed to old school Hip Hop and R&B. Laura hung by the wall, gazing at people as they rocked, giggled, and grinded on each other.

She felt sort of numb. Maybe she was still upset from her confrontation with her parents. Her back was sore and she felt exhausted from any movement. Her udder was tight and uncomfortable, her nipples absolutely aching. She was tired of feeling so ludicrously huge and heavy. She was tired of being a cow, if just for that moment. Her belly looked beyond due, overdue with triplets by then, and it was getting wider than she was. She was starting to look as though she had a beachball stuffed under her dress, and there was nothing she could do but wait it out.

She had made a mistake in accepting Kim’s invitation. Nothing good ever seemed to come from her venturing out into the community. Yes, she had met Kim, but she had also met Wendy and porked up a good deal. Every concession she made regarding her new identity just made things all the harder in the long run; made it more impossible to escape.

“Laura?”

She stiffened at the familiar voice. She sniffed, and quickly swiped away the stray tear that had fallen down her cheek. Why did he always seem to catch her crying? “Brad? What are you doing here?” She turned to glare at the man standing against the wall beside her.

Brad offered a tender smile. “I come here sometimes. It’s nice to have a sense of community. I kind of feel…comfortable here.”

Laura bit her lip. She wanted to make fun of him, but couldn’t. She actually understood what he meant. “You should come to my support group some time,” she blurted.

Brad’s raised his brows. “You never invited me before.”

Laura shrugged, looking down.

Brad moved closer, to face her. “You look good,” he murmured.

He reached out tentatively, slowly laying his hands on belly—his children. She let him rub his hands along her taut skin, soft and loving. “Another growth spurt?” he asked as a baby squirmed against his palm.

“Evidently,” she huffed out.

Brad released a laugh. “Would you like to dance?”

Laura hesitated. She was sore and miserable, and hated herself right then.

Yet to Brad she was just the same old Laura. There was no logic to the way he looked at her.

“Fine,” she said.

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