Solusex

It does sound nice, doesn't it? To be big and brainless? You don't have to think at all. You already did the hard part, taking an entire bottle's worth of growth pills and washing it down with milk. Now all you have to do is lay back and feel yourself grow. It doesn't take long. That many pills taken all at once floods your body and the pressure almost immediately starts building up inside your chest. God, it feels good. It feels like something you've always wanted, something you've waited your whole life for!

Your hips writhe and squirm. They ache, ever so slightly, as the growth is so intense that it has no choice but to spill out beyond your breasts. Your hands slide upward from your hips, gliding over your waist, as you move towards the expanding mounds on your chest. The anticipation is tantalizing and you bite your lip, bracing yourself. A bolt of pleasure shoots through you. Your back arches, shoving your tits upward into the air. A gasp drags air into your lungs and pushes your ribs outward, lifting your breasts that much higher. Your mind is blank. All thoughts have been blasted away. All it took was a little touch, the grazing of your finger against the side of your breast and the pleasure was immediately overwhelming. Your thoughts are scrambled as you settle back down and they stay scrambled as you start kneading and massaging your growing tits.

With eyelids half-closed, all you can do is moan and writhe. Your fingers spread apart as your breasts grow underneath them. Soft flesh bulges out from between your fingers as you squeeze them. Your clothes are getting tight. You had wanted to keep wearing them for the delectable moment of pretending like you didn't want them to be ripped apart by your swelling udders, but you're too overwhelmed by your own growth to enjoy it on that level. All you can do is claw at your clothes as they get tighter and tighter over your bust. The clasp of your bra breaks, sending ripples through your breasts, and your shirt doesn't last much longer. Relief washes over you as seams split and fabric tears and your breasts push their way out into the open.

Whatever thoughts you had left are completely obliterated as you start groping your breasts directly, pinching your nipples and tugging on them. Your eyes roll back. Your tongue hangs loosely from your lips. The deep, gutteral, lewd moans that rise from your chest are sounding less and less human and more and more primal. Your breasts won't stop growing and you're turning into a brainless, mindless, thoughtless cow!

The first week of Stella's thirties were a blur. She could hardly tell where one day ended and the next one began. If she had really focused, she might have been able to tell the difference between warm daylight and the cool streetlamps peeking in around her blackout curtains, but her focus was entirely elsewhere. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air of her bedroom. Under her desk, a wastebasket sat overflowing, lost in a mountain of spent tissues caked in cum that was at varying stages of drying and hardening. Thick ropes of it were splattered across the walls and over her bed. More so than ever, her room had become a den of hedonistic pleasure. The lewd moaning and the sounds of sex blasted out of Stella's headphones, almost completely covering the rhythmic plap! plap! plap! of her colossal tits slapping against her thighs, her cleavage lubed up by the precum that gushed from the tip of her pillar of a cock.

This time last week, Stella had been completely different. For starters, she was monstrously drunk. Who could blame her? It was her thirtieth birthday, one that represented the threshold into the life she truly wanted to live. The first half of her twenties had been spent figuring out who she was and the second half had been spent becoming who she was always meant to be. Her thirties would be the time to finally just be that person! If you had asked her sober, she would have said she was happy with the body the hormones had given her. Drunk, however, there was one shortcoming that she was desperate to fix. She staggered around the bar, going up to each one of her friends, thrusting her chest forward and begging them to pinch her tits. "Come on, please? A pinch for an inch? All I need is a couple of inches and I'll be good! I promish!" Stella giggled at the stunned flustered expressions on her friends' faces. Her giddiness only grew as she finally did get a pair of pinches, two on each breasts. But, it came at a (playful) cost, one of her friends pinching her bulge, suggesting that the extra inch down there was a birthday present from her. Stella tried her best to hang on to her faux indignity for as long as she could before erupting in yet more giggles, collapsing into her friends. She was just so happy.

"Guughhnnn..."

Stella grunted. Her hips tensed, pushing the nearly three-foot-long column of cock upward through her own cleavage. Her arms did their best to wrap around a pair of tits that had made two laps around the alphabet and were making their way towards a third. Between her thighs, her swollen balls (each nearly as big as her head) tensed and yet another in a countless line of loads sprayed from the tip of her cock. Most of it rained back down on her own tits, adding to the slick mess between them, while some of it landed on the floor and a little landed in her own hair.

Or better yet, if its a sort of mini giantess situation, where because she got a foot or two in height ( square cube law and all that) her brain also got bigger, meaning her capacity for knowledge has increased. Could she perhaps use that new intelligence to cure her condition? Or perhaps spread it...or modify it...there was that cute guy at work...he cute use some horns...and big pecs...and who knows what he's packing, better make sure his cock is huge just to make. sure

For the first part yes I absolutely love that. I will admit I do like it when they keep their original self, but they get new things to deal with. Being yourself but having to deal with such a huge milky chest, and other side effects. You have to take breaks at work to milk yourself, getting a new fridge/freezer to hold the milk. Figure out what to do with the milk. But you're still you, and you get to enjoy all what's new with you :3

But the second...that's a hot concept. I like it when someone is transformed but instead of just becoming another drone or cog or something of the transformed, they become more, greater. The now hucow being smarter because she's bigger, and knowing it feels so good, wants to spread the joy to everyone else. Sure she could cure it, but she's stronger then any human now, with a heavy chest, thick thighs, huge ass, cow ears, horns, and a enchanted pine to support all the weight. (Plus more changes if you like).

Like it was some nerd studying how to reverse the infection, but after getting infected herself realize this is the next step in life. And bringing along one of her assistant back home to her personal lab to make more... enhanced hubulls. Modifying her own infectious milk to make purpose changes, plunging her teat into his mouth and letting him drink and drink as things changes. Every step closer to making him her ideal hubull. Every test as her draining him, can't have a pent up hubull now can we?

And I mean, she can't be the only one, might as well invite over a friend, she won't mind becoming a hucow like her.... The friend just needs a glass of milk to get started...

I like to imagine just asking someone that and them going "uh sorry we don't serve that here" and suddenly feeling a weight in their chest as it starts to grow and fill, and it gets so large that it burst thru their shirt and starts dripping with milk. Now they got to fulfill the order, I mean, they have to milk their breasts anyways, might as well get some extra money out of it.

Plus charging extra for straight from the tap

And all this money enough to ignore their chest is getting heavier and milker even with all the new customers asking for requests

Oh well

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