Cow Boy II, Part 4 (Patreon)

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

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

-

Somehow through the groping and kissing, Taylor caught a glimpse of a disheveled Reese on the crowded dance floor. Reese jerked his thumb towards the door as he began to push his way toward it.

“Gotta go,” Taylor slurred, pulling away from the stranger and beginning to walk towards Reese.

The stranger grabbed his arm but Taylor pulled away, sending him a withering look through the flashing lights, the smoke, and the blaring music.

With that, Taylor continued to shove his way through the crowd until he found his way outside. His friends were there, giggling, all in varying levels of dishevelment.

“Just in time,” said Derek, looking up from his phone as a cab pulled up to the curb. He opened the door and the group squeezed in. Taylor found himself in Reese’s lap.

“Looks like you’ll have to come back for your car,” said Terry.

Taylor shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Where’s Stacy?”

“Oh, she went home with pigtails.”

“That scank she was dancing with?” said Derek in disbelief.

Taylor laughed, “She needs to raise her standards.”

“Isn't this where you hooked up with Jack in the bathroom?” snickered Reese, causing the others to giggle.

Taylor abruptly sobered. “Shut it,” he grumbled.

-

Taylor had barely slept it off when he was awoken by a pounding noise and a muffled voice calling his name. He lifted his face from his pillow and blearily looked around his bedroom. He didn’t remember returning to the dorm, and he could feel the heaviness of his hangover pulsating in his skull. Reluctantly, Taylor crawled out from under his blankets and lowered his feet to the floor. He stood and stalked to the door, before unlocking it and swinging it open.

His two roommates stood on the other side.

“Someone’s at the door for you,” Peter deadpanned. As usual, he was dressed in black from head to toe.

“It’s Jack,” Mike added.

Groaning, Taylor attempted to close his bedroom door in their faces, but Peter held it open.

“He won’t go away,” Peter said.

Sighing, Taylor walked out of his room, only dimly aware that he was in just his boxers and a thin wifebeater, his hair dissheveled.

In the living room stood Jack, leaning against the doorframe, his muscled arms folded over his chest. “Taylor,” he said in surprise. He reddened slightly as his eyes took in Taylor’s new, curvier, body. “You look…different…” he trailed off, caught himself, then abruptly raised his eyes to Taylor’s face. “I-I mean, you look fine.”

“Yeah? Well, I have tits now,” said Taylor flatly, squeezing them together for emphasis.

Jack sputtered, “W-we should talk!”

“There’s nothing to discuss.”

Peter and Mike took seats on the couch, Peter turning on the television as Mike blatantly spectated Taylor and Jack's conversation.

Jack was squirming. “Can I just speak to you in private?”

Taylor grinded his teeth in irritation. He absently scratched his right tit, breast flesh jiggling. Finally, he nodded to his bedroom door, and turned away as Jack followed, Taylor’s plump bottom on display as it bulged out of his too-small boxers that were close to losing their battle to contain it.

Once they were back in his room, Taylor closed the door then crossed his arms, affectively heaving his breasts yet higher. “What do you want?”

Jack swallowed. “I think that I should…apologize. Properly.” He adjusted his glasses, deeply embarrassed. “My great aunt was said to have…traits. It must have been somewhere in our bloodline, and I…I guess it got passed down to me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here for you. And I’ll be here for the…um…” He trailed off.

Taylor stared blankly at him. Did Jack actually think he was keeping it?

“What can I do?” Jack added nervously. Despite his large, rugged frame, he seemed smaller than ever.

Taylor was at a loss of what to say for a moment, before he glanced down at himself. “Do you want to go to the mall? I can't fit into my stuff anymore.”

Jack blinked. “Sure. Of course.” He was eager to please.

Taylor opened his door again. “Give me a few minutes.”

Taylor pulled on a pair of shorts that could barely accommodate his plump backside. He then tugged on a t-shirt, his breasts protruding visibly. He didn’t think he could handle squeezing into compression garments anymore. His breasts existed. They were—there. He might as well try to accept them because they only seemed to be getting bigger.

Taylor looked over his form in his mirror, still rather stunned by how oddly…voluptuous, he was becoming. He glided his hands over his waist, then his stomach. It was no longer concave, but flat. Or maybe there was a vaguest…slightest…curve to it.

Taylor lightly shook his head, trying not to think about it. Instead, he pulled on a pair of sneakers and walked out of his room.

In the living room, Jack was talking sports with Mike as a silent Peter typed away at his phone.

Taylor headed for the door. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” said Jack, walking over.

Taylor didn’t like the comfortable way Jack rested his hand on Taylor’s waist as Jack bid goodbye of Taylor’s roommates.

-

As Taylor walked around the mall, he didn’t mind the way that men ogled him, at times freezing mid-step, some of their jaws dropping. Women gasped and whispered to their companions behind their hands. Taylor was sort of coming to enjoy the attention that his new body was steering his way.

Taylor found himself, embarrassingly enough, in the womens underwear section of the department store. He quickly found a fitting room and tried on several bras and even some stretchy panties. He couldn’t help noticing that his recently thinning pubic hair seemed to have all fallen out by then, leaving in its place bare, smooth skin. It was just kind of weird.

Taylor pulled on a C-cup bra and was stunned to find that it fit him well. It seemed that he was a solid C, which seemed kind of large, especially considering the fact that he was a guy. Taylor couldn’t help marveling at the mounds. How had he grown another cup size in just a couple of weeks? He pulled the bra off and continued to stare at the plump mounds on his chest. They were so round and full, not sagging in the least.

There was a knock on the stall door. “Hey, you still in there?” called Jack nervously.

Scowling in irritation, Taylor unlocked the stall and swung it open, standing there with his bare chest. “It’s been five minutes, man, you have no fucking patience.”

Jack hardly seemed to notice Taylor’s words. His eyes were locked on Taylor’s chest. These weren’t the flat, masculine pecs Jack had encountered on the night of their hookup. These were full, womanly breasts. Taylor’s body was rapidly preparing for his coming litter.

Taylor awkwardly cleared his throat, causing Jack to blink several times, his eyes snapping up to Taylor’s irritated expression.

“S-Sorry,” Jack stammered. “I just — it’s just really surprising —”

“Yeah, you’re surprised by what you did to me?”

Jack reddened more, looking away. But Taylor could see the bulge forming in the front of Jack’s pants.

“Go ahead,” Taylor challenged, stepping closer. “Look at them. Your handiwork, after all.” He lightly shoved Jack, but the other college student would not meet his eyes now.

Shaking his head, Taylor backed off. Jack had the looks and a decent enough cock, but Taylor still couldn’t fathom how he’d ended up hooking up with such a freak. He snatched up his shirt, hastily pulling it back on. “I found what I needed,” he said, nodding to the various underthings littering the fitting room stall. “Let’s get out of here.”

-

Their next stop was a high-end boutique that was popular with the queer community. It wasn’t the first time Taylor tried a dress on.

“What do you think of this one?” he said as he stepped out of the fitting room. He turned to show off the short tube dress, rather fascinated by the way his new curves filled it out, how his cleavage bulged heavily from the low neckline, and his round ass stuck out in the back.

Jack choked on the soda he’d been sipping. “G-great,” he sputtered. “But you wouldn’t a-actually...wear that?”

Taylor rolled his eyes. “I almost still don’t believe you’re gay.”

“No, I just —” He backtracked. “I’m not sure that it’ll be practical once you start to, um...”

Taylor eyed him. “Once I start to what?”

Jack gulped. “N-nothing. You look great.”

“Yeah. I’ll take it.” Taylor squeezed out of the dress, Jack closing his eyes as he did. Taylor threw the dress into Jack’s arms atop of the pile of new shirts and pants he had already picked out.

On their way to the register, Taylor spotted a slinky number with a variety of strategic cut-outs. “This too,” he said, snatching it up and adding it to the stack. He himself wasn’t sure he would seriously wear half the crazy stuff he had picked out. He kind of just enjoyed wasting Jack’s money.

By the time they had finished shopping, Jack was hauling four bags of clothes behind Taylor. They headed to the food court for lunch, Taylor sitting down texting Reese as he waited for Jack to return with their meals.

There was the clap of something hitting the table, and then the varying aromas of several different cuisines.

“This was…everything. Right?” said Jack, breathlessly.

Taylor looked up to see three trays piled high with a variety of foods, some sweet, some savory, and all of it looking absolutely delicious. Taylor felt himself beginning to salivate and he didn’t hesitate to dig in. He didn’t care if he looked like a pig. Stupid cow pregnancy, he thought, ignoring as he felt Jack staring at him.

“So how are you feeling?”

Taylor slowly looked up at Jack, part of a fried chicken leg stuffed in his mouth. He chewed it up and gulped it down. “How do you think I’m feeling?” he said, wiping some barbeque sauce off his cheek.

“You seem to be handling things well.”

“What choice do I have? After what you did to me.”

Jack winced. “You heard what I said, Taylor. I’m gonna be here.” He hesitantly reached over and cupped Taylor’s sauce-coated hand. “Maybe we can-”

“Easy there, megacock. What exactly do you think this is?” Taylor removed Jack’s hand from his.

Jack frowned. “I thought we could be a couple. After all, you’re carrying my ch-”

Taylor burst into such a rapturous fit of laughter, that every other patron of the food court directed their attention to Taylor and Jack’s table. Taylor clutched his gut in pain and took several gasps of breath once the bout started to subside. “Maybe that kind of proposal flies in Kansas, or wherever the hell you’re from, Jack,” his voice became garbled as he stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth. “But in my eyes, you’re a worm. No—you’re worse than a worm. You’re like an ant. With no legs! You kind of just wriggle there, and get stepped on.” Taylor got up to leave, not before grabbing a steaming, smelly burrito from one of the trays. “I wouldn’t date you in your wildest dreams. You can drop off my bags. I’ll catch an ubber home.”

With that, he left, Jack staring blankly after him.

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