Cow Boy II, Part 17 (Patreon)

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Summary: Sequel to Cow Boy. Decades following Lucas’s ordeal, the cow-person condition is becoming an epidemic. Taylor has the misfortune of contracting the gene. Contains:  Male: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, multiple breasts, udders, lactation, and more.

Previous Chapter

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Taylor’s upper-most breasts, the DDDs, were swollen, flushed, and sensitive. The C-cups beneath them were rapidly growing into Ds, or…were they already Ds? Taylor fidgeted and resisted the urge to massage them, the pressure of the larger mounds perched atop them leaving him uncomfortable, squirming, and red in the cheeks. Despite it, he did his best to maintain his composure.

The pinkish bloated area beneath his belly—the fucking udder—seemed to be developing more each day. It was no longer just a rash on his skin, but a visible swell, like fat, but it wasn’t…was it? And the four lumps against it were distending, becoming more defined, and looking vaguely like thick nipples. They felt like them too, so tender and rousing. It was official, then. He had a fucking udder.

As the car came to a sharp halt, Taylor did his best to cradle his wobbling mounds, but there seemed to be too many. He fidgeted and shivered, resisting a whimper. In the driver’s seat, Kim threw her head back and groaned indulgently.

“Everything’s just so sensitive.” Kim grinned.

Taylor clambered out of the passenger’s seat with maximum awkwardness. His pants uncomfortable all the sudden. His pinkened pubic area had been feeling unreasonably hot lately, almost as hot as his four breasts were.

Kim was the next to heave herself out of the car. She turned her gaze to the restaurant while flashing her trademark smirk.

Despite that they were nearly the same dimensions, Taylor could not deny that Kim looked incredibly hot. The spandex dress she wore was so tight, it was practically pasted to her skin, showing off her plump hips, round ass, full thighs, swollen breasts, and bulging belly. The dress was low-cut, showing off her flushed, sweaty cleavage, sweat already seeping into the thin material. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her large nipples wiggled slightly as her breasts bobbed with his chest’s heaving movements. The dress was so short, it barely covered her ass, the mound of her udder practically pushing out of it in the front.

Despite how abnormal and grotesque the cow-condition was, Kim looked like a goddess. Swollen and fertile and perfect. Taylor appraised her.

A back door of the car opened. There was a wheezy grunt. Taylor and Kim waddled over to help Wendy to her feet. It was a struggle, as they could hardly reach Wendy’s arms past her gargantuan belly.

Taylor and Kim both looked as though they were eight months along, but standing next to Wendy, they appeared quite slim. Wendy’s belly was so swollen, she looked as though she had a bolder attached her. Her belly was wider than she was—in fact, she looked as though she was carrying a grown man (or two!) rather than a litter of babies. It trembled and Wendy moaned as she leaned back heavily on the car. It seemed implausible that such a mass was attached to such a small body.

Though her belly was perfectly round, it looked pudgy somehow, as though it was layered with several inches of fat. Wendy was wearing a yellow dress with an empire waist that must have been custom-made, yet still stretched against the expanse of her girth. The fabric didn’t even reach her thighs, so Wendy was wearing leggings to complete the outfit.

It was odd that Wendy’s attire was formfitting, as though to exaggerate how feebly the rest of her body was in comparison to her fat baby-mound.

“Ngghhhh…t-thanks guys,” Wendy gasped out, spreading her thighs. “It’s gotten so awkward since my udder came in.”

Taylor blinked and looked down, craning his neck somewhat to get a look. Initially Taylor had thought that Wendy didn’t present as a cow in any way aside from her belly, but as Taylor examined her, he could see the volley-ball sized mound bulging in Wendy’s leggings. It was pressed so snugly against the underside of Wendy’s girth, it wasn’t a surprise that Taylor had not noticed it until then.

“Ugghh…” said Wendy, fidgeting. The udder seemed to quiver.

Taylor shifted his gaze to Wendy’s groin, half-expecting cow-babies to just start popping out right there. He watched Wendy’s huge mass throb out then in, out then in, and could hardly understand how Wendy managed to stay balanced.

Still catching her breath from her exertions in getting out of the car, Wendy palmed feebly at the door, mouthing something.

Curious, Taylor poked his head in and leaned over the back seat. He extricated what looked like an extra-wide walker, and unfolded it, before pushing it over to Wendy. Instead of a bench, there was a thick sheet of cloth that looked somewhat flexible and hung loosely like a hammock. Wendy released a relieved sort of squeak, before waddling awkwardly to grasp the handles. She arched up slightly to shift her massive belly onto the hammock. It cradled the underside of the mound, Wendy sighing as her weight was shifted onto the contraption.

Taylor blankly stared. He cradled his own belly in unease.

“This place looks good,” said Kim, her attention focused on the restaurant.

“I haven’t been here before,” said Taylor, finally tearing his eyes away from Wendy. But his eyes just trailed back, like a magnet. He stared at the anthills on Wendy’s chest. The girl barely had breasts to speak of. Her face was round, cheeks flushed, blonde hair flowing down her back.

“Me neither,” Kim admitted. “This is Wendy’s spot.” The two had bumped into Wendy on the way out of the meeting.

“It’s good,” Wendy gasped out. “Caters to cows.”

That was enough for Kim. She started forward. Taylor trailed after Wendy, who shuffled with her walker, one step at a time.

The interior of the restaurant was large and open, with dark hues, and black and red coloring. Despite the discretion of the atmosphere, Taylor did not miss the odd blend of cow girls and Normals. He could see a young girl staring at them uneasily. She had cow ears, and either she was chubby, or she was just beginning to show. Taylor snorted, and gave her a sarcastic salute, as though to say, Yeah, you’re fucked.

“This place is the best,” said Wendy, who was now only moderately breathless. “Their specialty is cheese dishes,” she added with a sly look.

Taylor’s stomach grumbled at the thought.

“Dairy is like crack to us cow-whores,” Kim mentioned.

“If you say so,” said Taylor with a grimace. This didn’t seem like a good idea, but he couldn’t see himself backing out. Just the aroma of hot cheese in the air had him following the others like a hatchling.

The hostess flashed a grin. Her eyes shot to Wendy. “Ah, Ms. Montgomery. The usual spot?”

Wendy nodded eagerly.

Taylor followed the others, helpless but to scrutinize them. His experience with other cows, and he couldn’t stop marveling at how Kim looked fiery, foxy, and illicit. Wendy looked adorable and strained, and fucking gigantic.

As they shuffled over to their table, Taylor came to realize that it was not the discreet placement in a corner that he was expecting, nor was it a back room, or hidden behind a meticulous arrangement of shrubbery. Their table was in the center spot, so everyone could see them. In fact, as Taylor looked at it, he realized that it wasn’t a table, but a large hot tub built into the floor! The water glowed blue and steamed around the tabletop, which was clear, and seemed to float above the water.

With aid from two waiters, Wendy happily stripped down to a bikini top and a pair of swim shorts that cradled her udder. Her belly was obscenely massive, yet perfectly smooth. Taylor could see the shifts of movement as her babies squirmed beneath her skin. As Wendy gingerly eased herself down into the hot water, Kim climbed in fully-clothed.

Taylor blinked several times before leaning down to take off his shoes. “Oh,” he gasped, as a waitress hurried over and began to help him. “You don’t have to…” But both his shoes were rapidly undone by her.

Taylor stepped out of them and began to crouch down on the edge of the pool—the waitress still holding his arm, as though she suspected Taylor might topple over. The nerve. Ignoring her, Taylor eased his body into the hot water, and he couldn’t help but groan. His lower body sank beneath the surface, most of his belly disappearing as well. He couldn’t deny how great it felt. He arched his back and sighed. “This place is insane.” He turned to Wendy.

“I know,” Wendy said, wiggling her shoulders. With most of her body hidden, she almost looked like the skinny, young college student she had probably been prior to getting impregnated by cow-dick. “It’s nice. Lately I can hardly fit behind the tables at most restaurants.” Taylor didn’t doubt it. “This place is super accommodating.”

A waiter set a pitcher of something in front of Wendy, and Wendy easily pulled the floating table closer to her. Taylor had assumed that the pitcher was to share, but another one was set in front of him, and then a third, set in front of Kim.

The straw was extra-thick and extra-long, and had been manufactured in a way that it bent down at a tight angle, almost meeting Taylor’s lips without manipulation. Taylor shifted it between his teeth and took a draw. His mouth was flooded with ice cold vanilla milkshake that was both sweet and buttery in such a delightful way.

“This is amazing,” Kim moaned against her straw.

Taylor couldn’t refute this. The cold shake was a nice contrast to the clear, hot water, which was, in the meantime, working out all the kinks in his swollen body. Taylor could hardly care that his clothes were soaked. He felt great.

Despite that they had not ordered, waiters and waitresses began to load the table with dishes. There was baked macaroni and cheese, and lasagna so loaded with mozzarella that it took Taylor several moments to identify the dish. Taylor salivated at a platter of chips and gooey queso, and the mountain of fried mozzarella sticks and cheese curds that sat right in front of him. There were even grilled cheese sandwiches and gooey quiche that was still sizzling. There was a bowl of cheese soup, plump cheese ravioli, some cheeseburgers, a pizza with what had to be triple-cheese, a large plate of fancy cheese and fancy crackers, a cheese soufflé, cheese danishes, and the largest cheesecake Taylor had ever seen.

Taylor dug in without a second thought, nearly forgetting about his company—but they were busy eating, themselves. Taylor ate and ate, each dish proving addictive. They were replaced as rapidly as they were consumed, Taylor’s massive milkshake switched promptly and continuously, sometimes strawberry, sometimes chocolate, all of it thick and wonderful. He drank it all. Taylor hardly registered the flavors, just that it was delicious, and it needed to be inside of him.

The massive table could be easily spun any time Taylor wanted to reach something on the far end of it. It was perfect. He could hardly feel the tension rising in his belly, as everything was softened, massaged, and insulated by the hot water.

Kim had taken a break to catch her breath. Taylor stuffed cheese curds into his mouth at a near-frantic pace. Wendy was happily digging into her fourth slice of cheesecake, her face pink, cheeks bulging. Taylor almost wanted to tell her that maybe she’d had enough, but found that he was hardly in the position to be giving advice. Instead, he pulled the cheesecake over to cut a slice for himself and cut another slice for Wendy.

“Are you rich or something?” Taylor asked, voice muffled from food.

Wendy answered with a shrug. She continued to demolish her cake, but suddenly went rigid. She dropped her fork with a pained grunt.

Two waiters were on her immediately. One rubbed Wendy’s shoulders for a while before his hands disappeared into the water. Wendy arched her back and moaned as she enjoyed, what appeared to be a belly-rub, from the waiter. The second waiter lifted a dish and actually began to feed Wendy. Eyes closed, Wendy obediently opened her mouth and accepted bites of food, her lips curved in contentment as she was stuffed to bursting.

Kim was absently chewing on a burger, which Taylor found a bit demented. He scrunched his nose.

Kim reached into the water with her free hand, to cup something. Probably her belly. Her face was flushed from the binge-eating, her breasts practically bulging from her top. Taylor wasn’t sure if they had gotten larger, but they looked uncomfortably plump and swollen, and were just an inch or two from a public indecency charge. “So who’s your baby-daddy?”

Taylor gulped down the four mozzarella sticks he had stuffed into his mouth. “Jack,” he scoffed, still distracted by Wendy and the waiters. The waiters had now procured a funnel, of all things. Wendy didn’t even open her eyes as they removed the fork from her mouth to replace it with the tapered end of the funnel. They lifted a huge pitcher—at least five times the size of the ones containing the milkshakes—and began to tip a thick, lumpy fluid into the funnel. It was green. Taylor’s stomach lurched, but he didn’t know if it was from repulsion or desire.

“Isn’t it always,” said Kim with a sigh.

Taylor blinked. “What?” He turned to her.

“Brad just seems like the perfect douchebag name. He is, right? A douchebag?”

Taylor frowned. “Oh yeah.” He nodded.

His joggers were getting tight. Taylor cradled his pubic region with his hand, resisting the urge to push at the waistband. Then again, he was under water. Who would be able to tell, anyway? As the others gobbled down more food, and whatever that green crap was, Taylor discreetly reached down, beneath his uncomfortably tight belly, and shoved down his pants waistband, just a bit.

He was surprised by the swell of fat that pushed out of it.

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