Cow Boy, Part 7 (Patreon)

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Note: This is a male version of Cow Girl II.

Summary: At eighteen, Lucas begins to experience certain physical changes. Contains: Male: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, multiple breasts, udders, gender transition, and more.

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Lucas’s father continued to provide him with a seemingly endless supply of snacks.

Lucas would look down at himself and muse that he had come to resemble his mother in many ways. It made him uneasy. Was his life really starting to make that sort of a transition? He had always seen himself as outgoing, outdoorsy, and adventurous. But with his growing weight, Lucas found himself becoming increasingly reclusive, the emotional burden of his mounds far greater than any physical one.

And so he ate.

In a bit of a haze, he proceeded with his day-to-day obligations. He would go to school and work, then help out at home, as usual. He continued, even though he was now unquestionably large. He could not really fit behind the desks at school anymore, so he had to angle his belly out of it. Or if he managed to get to class early (strenuous as this was), he could grab the desk that’s seat wasn’t connected to it, pushing back the chair far enough to make ample room for his round belly.

His breasts were getting larger, and increasingly difficult to hide. He was constantly avoiding Ralph now, though when Ralph did catch up with him, there was no doubt that Ralph noticed Lucas’ round belly, and the way his golf ball sized belly button protruded from his navel. At times, Lucas thought he might try to explain things, but he could never figure out how. Instead he would bow his head, make up some excuse, then hurry off, as fast as his plump body would allow him to.

All the food wasn’t helping. Nightly, he enjoyed a midnight eating-binge, scarfing down pounds of food as fast as he could chew it. His latest tank tops and t-shirts were getting tight on him. His walk to and from his nearby deli was ungainly, and not just because of the bags of food loaded in his arms. His father thought that the extra servings and snacks he snuck Lucas throughout the day were enough to satisfy the powerful appetite his condition had brought on. But it wasn’t.

The late-night store-clerk would always give Lucas a foggy stare, as though expecting Lucas, yet accepting Lucas as a nightly figment of his imagination. The guy would still blush and look down when Lucas finally made his way to the register, then the guy would be utterly silent as he rang Lucas up, not meeting Lucas’s eyes, not mentioning Lucas’s flustered demeanor, the way four nipples bulged from four large breasts perched on Lucas’s chest, beneath them, a prominent pregnant belly, and yet another mound beneath that, the one that bulged slightly from the front of Lucas’s shorts, pink and quivering, sometimes being supported by one of Lucas’s hands.

Afterwards, Lucas would mutter a thanks, take his bags, and walk away, his round ass swaying, his cow-ears protruding, but he was far from caring by then. He would make his way back to his house and sit outside behind the bushes, perched on his plump ass. He would pull down the front of his shorts to allow his udder to bulge free, legs spread wide to make room for his belly and the trembling pink mound nestled beneath it, perched on the grass. His four breasts heaved gently, up and down, where they were perched atop his belly, and his body wiggled as he awkwardly navigated his hands in and out of grocery bags, unwrapping chips and pastries, stuffing them into his already-full mouth as his belly gurgled and grumbled, as though whatever laid within it needed more. Morefood.

Lucas paused to breathe, laying his hand on his expanse of plump flesh. Part of his belly was visible beneath the hem of the shirt and Lucas was not sure if it had been like that before.

His breasts continued to heave with his panting, bulging through the V-neck of his shirt, then sinking again, in a rhythmic cycle. His belly rose and fell as well. He swore, he looked like he was at term with child already. Why did he have to be growing so fast?

Lucas feared he would have to fess up soon. Bulky outfits and strategic layering could only get him so far. Surely his mother suspected something by then. He was getting absolutely huge.

Lucas absently stroked his udder and groaned, as it only seemed to grow tighter with the contact.

The udder had been getting pressurized and more uncomfortable, bobbing awkwardly as he walked around. It felt hot, and the nubs – no, not nubs anymore – his teats were often distended. Things were getting worse and worse, and he could do little but endure it, wait out whatever else was happening to him, oblivious of when it would stop.

He was regretful that he had not confided in his mother, if only in that regard. He was ignorant of how things would proceed from that point. Clueless as to how he could possibly be – as his father said – pregnant. So pregnant at that. And he didn’t know what to expect in terms of growth…and other things. On a certain level, he didn’t want to know. But it all led back to asking his mother about it, which his father urged him to do on an almost constant basis now.

Lucas arched his back, stretching his spine, his shelved breasts pushing forward. They mirrored his udder in the sense that they had been feeling heated lately. His areola was puffy and pink, capping his four breasts. Upon them, his nipples were dark, sore, and quite large by then. And they were sensitive, so sensitive that just pinching one left him shuddering. Lucas quietly moaned as he continued to arch his back, the stretched material of his shirt sliding across his breasts as more of abdomen protruded beneath the hem.

Finally, he relaxed, shifting a bit on the plump cushion of fat that had become of his ass. He rubbed his lower abdomen as those strange…stirrings…started up again. His face contorted as the mass as a whole seemed to tighten with the uncomfortable movement. “No…stop…” he quietly mumbled, as his belly button throbbed up and down, as though something was pushing at it from the inside. His face reddened as he fidgeted uncomfortably. Was this sort of thing going to keep happening? Was this his – baby’s – doing? The whole concept made his skin crawl.

Stiff and uncomfortable, Lucas remained completely still, except for rubbing circles on his abdomen, hoping the tension and movement would stop soon. He just wanted the pregnancy as a whole to come to an end. But was he really up for what came next? A baby? A calf? Multiples ones? And a plump body that likely would not revert to the way it had been before. The large udder, the EE-cup breasts – he would likely be stuck this way, just like his mother.

The movement finally stopped, and Lucas heaved a sigh, his shoulders sagging, and breasts seeming to rise towards his face in consequence. He continued to take soothing breaths, trying to breathe through the waves of anxiety. It was time to rest, time to go inside and put off worrying about all these things until the morning.

Lucas glanced up at his bedroom window and was not looking forward to struggling his way back inside. Getting up there wasn’t much the problem. He had taken to using a small stepstool his father used to water the bushes, but the window frame seemed to be getting tighter on him every evening. Though pressing, the risk of getting stuck could not quell his insatiable hunger at night – well, he supposed, the baby’s hunger. But his nightly return to his bedroom, when he was plumper and bloated, no longer crazy with ravenous hunger, but lucid and logical – it was always a bit nerve-wracking. He would turn his head side to side, imagining how he would negotiate the unmalleable opening into his bedroom.

Lucas slowly shifted his weight onto his knees. While holding onto the house, he climbed to his feet. He continued to hold the underside of his belly, hoping the creature inside didn’t start up again. He eased his udder back into the front of his shorts, and tugged down his night shirt, but it seemed more taut than ever, inches of his belly sticking out at the bottom. The mound gurgled in apparent contentment.

“Mmmm…” Lucas moaned uncomfortably. Now that he was upright, he could really appreciate the tightness of his four stomachs.

He leaned down with difficulty and pulled the stepping stool out from the bushes. Placing it beneath his window, he climbed onto it, one step at a time.

It creaked and Lucas suddenly feared that it would not support him. Hurriedly, he eased his plump bottom onto his window ledge.

Lucas cradled his udder with his hand and grunted as he swiveled one of his legs through the window, followed by the second. Now his feet were inside and he was sitting on the ledge, while the rest of his body was still on the outside of the glass. Lucas took a few moments to catch his breath. Now for the tricky part.

He leaned back slightly to slowly ease his belly through the opening, but the mound was pressing harder against the window than usual. Panting, he tried to open the window wider, but it would not budge, already at its maximum width. Lucas reddened. He had feared something like this would happen eventually. It was like the farm all over again.

Lucas continued to shift and wriggle, squeezing through as he hoped he didn’t hurt whatever things lurked inside him. It took a good deal of time, and an exorbitant amount of navigation, but inch by inch, his body progressed, until his belly had made it into his bedroom. Breathing heavily, Lucas ducked inside and slid down the wall, plopping into his bloated ass as he panted, and cupped his throbbing navel. The creatures were at it again. The shirt had bunched up above his abdomen, and he absently stared at the round dome of flesh as it rose and fell with his breathing.

The lights turned on, and Lucas looked up in surprise. “M-mom.”

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