Lovely and round

I only had 3 sips of the tea when I started to feel strange. Then this happened…

Oh, you might not be pregnant, but you will be.

Just look at yourself. Look down at that domed gut as it rises from your middle and rests in your lap. Look at your colossal, heavy tits and feel how they slope off to the sides, leaving your belly to poke out between them. Look at the fat that clings to every inch of your body, not just your tits and your belly but your hips and your ass and your thighs, your arms and your chin and your cheeks. Every inch of your round, soft, heavy body advertises to the world that you're almost painfully fertile.

You're the living embodiment of femininity and fertility, carrying around the kind of body that, a hundred centuries ago, would be carved into stone and worshipped as a goddess. Every wobble that ripples through your figure just cements your place in the ancient, primal pantheon from a time immemorial when the only urge, above all else, was survival of the species.

And the eating is just proof of how ready you are to be pregnant. When you finally do get knocked up, you're going to need to eat. You're growing a baby inside you, after all! And then you're going to need to feed it, your already gargantuan breasts swelling even larger as they engorge with milk, and that'll require even more food. You're already eating so much, making yourself huge, and that's only going to get worse as you grow and grow and grow, so big that stretchmarks arc across your belly, so big that your body is pulling apart at the seams.

So, yes, you're right. You're not pregnant.

"Oh, great and powerful Titty Wizard! I beseech thee! Grant me—"

"No."

Irena blinked. She didn't even close her mouth. The halt had come so abruptly that it took almost ten full seconds for her brain to catch up. "Uh, er, n-no, your great—"

The wizard pinched the bridge of his nose and waved a dismissive hand. "Irena, please, just... just stop. This is getting to be too much. You do this every fucking time."

What had been confusion was starting to turn to embarrassment. A bit of hostility crept into her voice. "Every time? I mean, I come to you because you do good work and I need—"

"You need to what, Irena? You need to follow me across state lines to every Ren Faire I set up at to make me grow your tits even bigger? I'm flattered, really I am. Most people don't even believe my magic is real and you've clearly benefited from that. But... You gotta stop this."

A deep, indignant breath pushed Irena's tits forward, bulging over the deep neckline of her dress. Her eyes flared with fury. "Stop this? What the fuck are you talking about? You're the one that's been using your magic to make my titties bigger. You're responsible for all of this!" She reached down and, with fingers spread as wide as they could go, grabbed her own tits. "I look ten times bigger than the first time I met you, and that was when I was using a corset to lift my tits up to my fucking chin! You're the titty wizard. I asked for tits and you gave them to me! That's how this fucking works!"

Now on the defensive, the wizard threw up his hands. "No, I get that! And I don't regret giving you what you asked for. I'm just... I'm a bit worried that I've enabled you too much. Once is great. Two times is wonderful. But you keep coming back again and again and again. Where does it end? Will it end? Your boobs represent my crowning, magical achievement, but you've barely had them for, what, a month? And now you're back begging for more? Why don't we take a little break, huh? The season's almost over, then you'll have until the spring to get used to them! You'll be able to actually enjoy them! You can—Eee!"

A pair of strong hands grabbed the wizard by the lapels of his cloak and dragged him forward, draping him over the table inside the cozy tent. His false beard started to slip and the felt hat slipped from his head. Irena leaned in close. "Nuh uh. No way. You said it yourself, the season is almost over. If I don't get as big as I want now, I'll have to wait and—fucking hell, Clark—you do not want to make me wait. You think, if I'm not satisfied, that I'm just going to roll over and twiddle my thumbs until the next fair? I found you at six different fairs across four different states. What makes you think I can't find where you live? You should be thanking your fucking stars that I haven't shown up at your real job, demanding that you inflate my tits to truly alarming sizes. I want bigger tits. You can give me bigger tits. You may have power that I don't, but I'm the one in control. We're done when I say we're done. Got it?"

In all his years honing his craft and blessing the lovely women and men at Ren Faires, Clark had never been so overwhelmed. He was frightened. He was disturbed. He was... well, he was more than a little turned on. He looked up at Irena, swallowed, and nodded his head.

On a dime, her demeanor changed, letting go of Clark and letting him slide back into his large, wizard chair. She clasped her hands in front of her hips, using her arms to squeeze her tits together, making them bulge obscenely. A giggle bubbled out of her and rippled through her gargantuan bust. "Oh, great and powerful Titty Wizard! I beseech thee! Grant me a drop of your blessing and make my titties grow!"

Slowly, Clark regained his composure. He sat up and straightened up his costume, rolling up the long and flowing sleeves. If she wanted to be bigger, if she wanted to be huge, then, you know what? Fuck it. That's what she would get.

You’d think the dairy industry couldn’t get enough, but even hucows have human rights, and this device destroys their brain to the point they can only moo! Nothing but a pair of udders, constantly shuddering through a climax, all higher function left to atrophy.

Kiss that career-making report goodbye!

Inside the headset, Rhea was under attack.

A cacophony of moans and mooing and slapping of skin against skin filled her ears. Faster than she could consciously follow, images flashed in front of her eyes: spirals and pictures of women with gigantic breasts and words that disappeared before she could read them but were already lodged deep within her mind.

The cocktail of hormones that the rig had forced on her slammed through her veins, pushed to every inch of her body by her racing heart. Her senses heightened. The sound blasting in her ears became a symphony, with parts going in and out of harmony to reach as deep into her brain as possible. Her vision sharpened, letting her see everything so much more clearly as the hucow porn and fleeting instructions burned into the back of her eyes.

Her sensitivity to touch rose and, with it, her overwhelming pleasure.

Every wobble, every jiggle, every slosh of her growing breasts shot through her body, making her tremble and making her breasts move even more. She could feel her individual milk ducts opening up, preparing themselves for making milk, preparing themselves for a life as livestock. The suction cups tugging on her nipples basted away at her mind. This wasn't a slow erosion, a smoothing over millennia, but outright destruction. Every last synapse of her brain activated, growing hotter and brighter until, one by one, they burnt out.

Pleasure rotted her brain from the inside out. Memories of a former life disappeared. All the things that had made Rhea who she was vanished under the immense weight of the sensations being forced through her. Within moments, years—decades of her life were simply gone. By the time the serum was done with her, she wouldn't remember her name. She wouldn't remember more than five minutes into the past. All that would be left were the most basic functions for sustaining life. Everything more abstract than that was functionally gone, leaving her acting on pure instinct. Like an animal. Like a cow. She would know when she was hungry, when she was thirsty, when she was horny, and when she was full. Nothing else was necessary and so it had to go.

She could almost feel what was left of her identity melting away and moving to her tits, filling them with milk before being sucked away by the cups tugging on her nipples. Her body relaxed. She gave up fighting against the restraints. Her jaw released and her tongue lolled out. The machine was more than effective. In a matter of minutes, Rhea was a cow and nothing more. Not a person, certainly not a journalist. Just a cow.

------------------------------------------

Between the hiss of the industrial pumps sucking away at the Rhea's nipples and the moaning from the journalist herself, Tobias had to should to be heard. "What the hell was that for, Dad?!"

Peter Dawson, of Dawson Family Farms, did his best to hide the rush of adrenaline that was coursing through his body. As casually as he could, he brushed a bit of dirt off of his overalls. "It had to be done. Had to be done. Her story gets out and we're done. The work of four generations just... poof! At the stroke of a pen. When I'm gone and you're running this place, you'll understand."

As sure as Pete sounded, Tobias wasn't so confident. He winced at the sight of Rhea's body as it sat limp in the restraints, only trembling slightly at a jolt of pleasure every now and then. His eyes dropped down where her udders had grown in and were still growing, expanding and swelling and getting heavier by the minute. He was glad her eyes were hidden by the headset that had snapped over her face. "Someone's gonna find out. Then it'll be even worse. They'll know. Everyone will know."

Mommy milkers.

Calcium cannons.

Mega-sloshy, stuffed-up udders.

Juicy, jiggly, bouncy, wobbly pornmeat plappers.

Evelyn couldn't deny that that's what she had now, feeling the heavy, swinging weight of her massive tits weighing on her chest and the milk sloshing within. But that didn't make it any easier to hear her friends talk about her that way! Especially when they did it so casually.

Sitting at a table at a restaurant with no choice but to rest her engorged milkers on it, Evelyn squirmed in her seat, pulling her skirt right over her throbbing bulge. The feeling of pressure, of her breasts engorging with milk, made it hard to concentrate. It was only by some miracle that she managed to squeeze into a bra she stole from her roommate and even that was too small, making her udders bulge over the cups and test the limits of the clasps behind her back. It was insane how much had changed in the last twelve hours, in just the time since she had hooked herself up to those pumps! And not just her body, either...

"Udders? Hey, mommy milkers!"

Evelyn jolted upright, inadvertently thrusting her chest forward. A chorus of giggled erupted among her friends at the table. Jamie, sitting opposite, flashed her a smile and nodded her head towards the waitress eagerly waiting. Evelyn looked up towards the waitress, her heart skipping a beat at her black lipstick smile. "What can I get for you, porntits?" She said it with no disdain, no judgement, as if it were the most normal nickname in the world. Evelyn's girlcock throbbed.

"Uhhh..." She swallowed, trying to relieve herself of her dry throat. "I'll, uh... B-burger, please."

The waitress winked and made a note on her pad. "You got it, titmeat!" The pad slipped into her apron and the waitress walked off, leaving Evelyn feeling dizzy and confused and very, very, achingly full.

Carol, sitting next to Evelyn, gave her a little nudge. "A burger, huh? Wouldn't that be cannibalism for a dairy cow to eat a burger?" Jamie chuckled, despite herself, at the lame joke and rolled her eyes, but she made no effort to correct Carol, simply going for her drink. As she sipped on the straw, Evelyn couldn't help imagining Jamie's lips locked around her own nipple, sucking just as she was now, warmth and sweetness replacing the iced water. Jamie raised an eyebrow. "Hey, calcium cannons. You doing okay?"

Evelyn winced. She could feel precum soaking into her underwear and she was at the point where holding down her skirt wasn't so much about hiding her bulge as it was about how good it felt to have the fabric rub against her throbbing gock. Arousal and embarrassment burned in her cheeks as she looked up at Jamie with hazy eyes. "Mmhmm! T-totally fine."

That answer didn't satisfy Jamie and she narrowed her eyes, studying Evelyn's face. The newly busty cow could feel Jamie's gaze drift forward towards her chest, which made her blush even deeper, but Jamie's suddenly shocked reaction took her by surprise.

"Ugh, plapmeat! You forgot again, didn't you?"

Evelyn felt like she was going to faint. "F-forgot, uh... Forgot what?"

Before she had an answer, Jamie was sliding out of the booth and grabbing Evelyn by the arm. "Come on, goonbait. Bathroom. Now."

Still confused, Evelyn looked to Carol, hoping to find some explanation, but Carol didn't even look up from her phone. "Just don't make too big of a mess, guys. Janitors are people, too."

The next thing, Evelyn knew, she was in the bathroom, Jamie locking the door behind them. "H-hey, what's going— H-hey!!"

Evelyn gave up trying to hide the tent in her skirt as Jamie, without any warning, began to strip Evelyn's shirt off. Evelyn tried to cover her swollen chest with her arms, but that was almost worse than leaving her tits, bulging obscenely from the borrowed bra, exposed. Jamie held up the shirt to Evelyn. "You know better than this, Titty Queen." A pair of twin, damp spots stood out against the fabric and it took a few seconds for Evelyn to realize that it was milk and it was hers.

A moment later, the overworked bra sat draped over a railing, so glad to finally have a break. Evelyn had never been harder on her life as she looked at herself, tits hanging over the sink, and Jamie, leaning over her, chest against her back, kneading Evelyn's swollen udders. "You know, Mega Milker, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you do this on purpose. Just because I like it so much."

"Noooo! Thith, laihke, tohtawwy ithn't wha' I athked fow!"

As her lips plumped and filled, Kendra couldn't help slurring her words. It didn't help matters that she could feel herself getting dimmer by the second. She stared down past her swelling lips toward the twin balloons rising on her chest. They really were like balloons; she could almost hear a faint hiss as they inflated. They weren't the full, soft tits that she had imagined when she made her wish. The mounds growing on her chest were firm, tight, nearly spherical. Her bra didn't stand a chance, snapping almost immediately; had her tits been more natural, they might have been able to squeeze underneath the band or bulge over the cups, but these tits were too full for anything like that.

Moaning forced Kendra's lips into a perfect O. Her hands came up to paw at her tits just in time for her to watch her fingernails grow out, becoming gaudy and trashy. She did her best to grope her tits, but even squeezing them as hard as she could barely made an indent on their overinflated shape. Still, they swelled, growing outward in her grip, tearing open the neckline of her shirt.

Kendra tried to picture herself walking around campus like this, looking like she stepped out of a porno or some weirdo's wet dream. She thought of the whispers and the smirks, the gawking and the catcalling, the judgement and the lust. Shame burned inside her and that just made her needier, moaning again, her thighs rubbing together. They would all be looking at her! They would all see her obviously fake titties and her swollen cocksuckers! They would get horny looking at her!

Her tits barely bounced as she dropped to her knees, now rubbing her inflating porntits instead of merely squeezing them. Her eyes fluttered and rolled back into her head as she felt the most powerful orgasm of her life about to crash through her.