A Stranger Comes to Town, Part 4 (Multi TFTG) (Patreon)

By FoxFaceStories

Friendly Oaks is just an ordinary rural town, full of common people and professions. But beneath that kind surface there are all manner of rivalries, tensions, hypocrisies, and love affairs. When a Stranger wanders into town, the people of Friendly Oaks find themselves changing - literally - after encountering him. Some transformations are small, others massive, some well-deserved, some not at all. But the town won’t be the same once the Stranger is done with it.

First Part

Previous Part

Part 4: Cream with Your Coffee

The Stranger continued his odd sojourn through Friendly Oaks. He smirked at his most recent effect: the little police station would be a lot more lively now that Polly was in charge. Much better than that Prisket, who was no doubt still grappling with the litter of piglets growing in his - or rather her - stomach.

But even for an immortal, unearthly being such as the Stranger, some early mornings simply sapped one’s energy. As the sun began to rise on what looked to be a fine sunny day in this little forgotten slice of Americana paradise, he spied an old-fashioned diner in the distance, one that was just now opening. A good thing too: even incomprehensible beings like a good coffee.

The woman at the diner was named Annabelle, in what would prove a most auspicious, or foreboding, name. She was in her late twenties and always ran the diner for her Pa in the mornings, him being either too lazy or too old or some combination of the pair to get up early and set the scene. Still, she was a chipper woman, and recently celebrating the fact that, after a long dry spell, she finally had a boyfriend. Robbie was a handsome fellow just a couple of years older than her, and she’d managed to woo him by always making the perfect pot of coffee when he came in on breaks from his carpentering gigs, as well as the best eggs and bacon in the house. He was due to come in any minute now, in fact. His hours were similarly early, and so she had done herself up nice just to please him: her brown hair in cute pigtails, her diner server uniform extra trim to show off her slight figure, and she’d even gone to the extra length of wearing makeup she knew her father wouldn’t approve of.

Well, too bad. She was twenty seven years old, she could look how she liked, and the other patrons seemed to enjoy it anyhow.

Annabelle was just checking her appearance out in the mirror one last time, ready for her beau to appear, when suddenly the bell dinged to indicate a customer had arrived.

“I’ll be right out, honey!” she declared in her thick, twangy Southern accent. Another thing she’d received from her father. She practically bounced out from behind the counter, a sweet smile upon her face, only to pause in brief surprise.

“Oh, hello stranger!” she exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“A boyfriend, perhaps?” the man said. He was a tall, imposing figure in a dark long coat. He hadn’t even removed his broad-brimmed hat, which Annabelle thought to be quite rude. But there was something strangely magnetic about him that compelled her to answer truthfully, despite his forwardness.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she declared. “I’ve got a beau named Robbie. Comes in her all the time around this hour.”

“Wonderful,” the man replied in his whispery, yet guttural voice. “I did not mean to surprise you by not being him. I saw that the diner had opened and was hoping for a good coffee.”

She gave him her sweet smile, the one intended more for customers than her boyfriend. “Sure thing honey! How do you like it?”

“I do enjoy a good cappuccino,” he replied easily, taking a seat at the counter. He loomed over it, he was so tall.

“Um, we don’t quite have that fancy French stuff here,” she said nervously. “Well, my Pa never approved, anyway. But I can make you a good pot if you want, and a bite to eat?”

“Just the coffee would be good,” the Stranger said. “I like it with cream. That part is very important.”

“Coffee and cream coming up!” she said. “If you want food with it, the coffee is complimentary.”

“I’ll just pay for the coffee. And the cream.”

“Sure thing then. Swipe your card right here, or would you prefer till?”

He chose the till, and methodically passed over several old coins that she almost thought weren’t even American currency until she saw how old they were dated. In fact, they looked surprisingly valuable. Some went back to before the eighteen hundreds. She decided not to mention this. After all, it was just one coffee.

“So, what brings you to town, mister?”

“I’m just passing through. And I like change.”

“Nothing wrong with that! I don’t mind change either, though I’m not one for travelling. I like Friendly Oaks. It’s the place for me.”

“Do you own this lovely diner?”

“My daddy does, but I’m due to inherit. It’s named after me, though: Bell’s Diner. I’m Annabelle.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” he replied.

She was just readying the pot, continuing the vague small talk, when suddenly the bell went Ding again. This time her service smile became a genuine one as her darling Robbie came through the door. He was looking tired, and no doubt wanting his coffee and breakfast, but first she ran to him and gave him a kiss on the lips, lifting her leg slightly as he embraced her.

“You sure look swell this morning,” he said.

“I made myself up just for you,” she said. “I’ve got a coffee ready for you, and your bacon and eggs are ready to go as well.”

He gave a rugged grin and kissed her a second time. “You are just so fine, Annabelle.”

“Aww, you’re a cutie too.”

“I won’t be by the end of the day. Big concreting job.”

“Well, let me serve you up sweetie, so you know someone’s looking forward to seeing you by the end of the day.”

She quickly attended to Robbie, so struck with love and smitten by his demeanour that she practically forgot the strange figure at the counter still waiting for his coffee. Instead, she poured one out for Robbie first, then served him up for his breakfast, which he began to chow down upon. She quickly retreated back to serve a coffee to the Stranger, mumbling an apology, before heading back to Robbie to continue whispering with him as if they were secret lovers and only teens. Then, when he was done, she cleaned up after him.

“You really are the best, Annabelle,” he said. “How is that I managed to get the cow and milk for free?”

“If that’s your way of telling me how lucky you are to have me, you got a lot of work to do on your romance, Robbie.”

But she said it while laughing, and kissing him again. He even snuck a quick feel of her backside, before she giggled and told him to stop. There was another customer, after all.

“Well, you’ve made my morning all the better,” Robbie said. He grabbed her lightly around the waist and pulled her in for one last kiss. “Thanks for the perfect coffee, babe.”

“It’ll be there tomorrow morning for you, double-cream, just like you like it.”

“You know me too well.”

One last kiss, and he left, leaving her back with the Stranger. She returned to the counter a little embarrassed, red-cheeked, and flushed with excitement.

“Sorry about that. That was Robbie, my boyfriend. Hope you’re enjoying your coffee?”

The Stranger was silent. He had not touched it.

“Is something the matter, sir?”

“There is no cream.”

Annabelle blinked for a moment. “Oh, oh! I’m so sorry, I was just distracted.”

The Stranger raised his head. His starry eyes seemed to bore into her very soul.

“I was very specific that I liked cream with my coffee. Milk would have sufficed. I was waiting over five minutes and there was no service. Is this how you treat your customers?”

Annabelle smiled awkwardly. “Not at all mister! I’m so sorry! I was just - look, I’ll get you a new coffee. With milk this time.”

She grabbed the pot and began to pour it into a new mug, but the Stranger raised a hand before she could add the cream.

“Wait. Something your boyfriend said before, about getting the cow and the milk for free. Perhaps there was a wisdom there. Perhaps if his statement was more literal, then you would never need to forget. Would be unable to forget.”

Annabelle looked at the exit. She was starting to feel a bit worried for her own safety with this tall, cryptic figure.

“Unable to forget, um, what exactly?”

The Stranger smiled, and there was something alien and wrong about the smile. Like some alien had been told what a smile was but had never seen it, and this was their attempt at recreation.

“Unable to forget the milk, of course,” he said in that odd voice of his.

And then his eyes glowed. Annabelle dropped the milk she was still holding, letting it spill upon the floor as she was caught in the gaze of a being that was most certainly not human. She saw spiralling galaxies, unfurling nebula within those grey eyes, and they teemed with change and chaos and possibility. Her entire body tingled as she beheld this phenomena, goosebumps raising across her skin. Something was happening to her, but it took several long moments for her to shift her gaze away from those magnetic, alien eyes and back to her body.

By which point things had gone very, very wrong.

“Oh my God!”

Annabelle staggered back from the counter, hitting her back lightly against the bench behind her. She could feel a powerful set of pressures across her body, but two particular ones were concentrated on her chest. She had always had a small cupsize, but had been happy with her B-cups - God knows that Robbie rather liked them, even if she knew he liked bigger tits - but now they were surging forth and stretching the boundaries of her diner uniform. The buttons became tights as fat and tissue and flesh poured into them from nowhere, inflating her boobs so that in mere seconds they had grown to full C-cups, and then even further to D’s! The pressure was intense, like she was being actively pumped full, and it made her feel hot and flushed and overcome.

“Ohhhhh,” she moaned. “Wha-what is happening? Why am I - NNGH!!!”

She grasped her breasts, feeling utterly indecent but unable to help herself. The sensation of growth was as discomforting as it was strangely pleasurable. Worse, her nipples were expanding massively, denting against her bra to the point where they were outlining heavily against her top. Soon they were thimble-sized and unbelievably sore and sensitive. She squealed as she touched them, only to pull her hands away when she realised what she was doing.

“Oh God, this can’t be happening! Why am I - what are you d-doing?”

The Stranger stirred his new coffee, which still didn’t have cream. “I’m just getting my milk,” he said idly. “It will all make sense, soon. It will be hard to forget to put milk in a drink when you’re producing it by the gallon.”

“Producing? What do you mean p-producing? Oh God, you can’t mean - MMHMMH!!!”

As if by magic, which indeed seemed to be the case, her nipples painfully expanded yet again, areola flaring out large and huge and bright pink underneath her shirt. Her breasts expanded yet further, becoming hefty Double-D’s and then big cantaloupe-sized E’s, which then caused the first button to ping off across the room. Annabelle groaned as her nipples stiffened, and then something even more remarkable and shocking happened: her nipples slid out of her too-small bra cups, and two streams of liquid poured out of them in little streams, drenching her top.

“Ohhhhhhh,” she whimpered, shivering from the strange release. It was agony and pleasure at once, and yet she only felt more and more full. “Is that m-milk?”

“The first of it, yes. But I think you can make more.”

“No! No more! Please no moo-ore!”

She clasped her mouth shut, placing her hands on it in shock. She had just mooed!

“Like I said, your boyfriend had wisdom about the cow.”

“MOO!” the poor diner woman cried. She tried to run, but another change quickly swept over her, even as her breasts continued to test the very fabric of her clothing. A deep throbbing pain in her tailbone began, followed swiftly by the foreign sensation of a nub bursting into being above her buttocks. Annabelle squeaked, her entire body going rigid even as she was forced to square her shoulders back to compensate for the growing weight upon her chest. Her breasts were still her major concern: they were like large, heavy sandbags, and her fat nipples were continuing to pour her new milk supply embarrassingly down her front. But then the nub pushed further between where her shirt had been tucked into her work skirt, and then it pushed out further, and further, and further.

“Stop this!” she pleaded. “P-please! I don’t d-deserve this! I didn’t mooo-ean to forget your moo-ilk!”

The pressure was unbelievable, in her panties and in her bra. Her very body was warping on top of it: her slim figure expanded subtly, hips creaking wider, thighs becoming thicker, shoulders a little stouter. She still had a very cute feminine form, but any sense of frail beauty was gone, replaced by curves that helped further emphasise her blossoming bustline.

“NGHH! What is this!?” she cried, unable to bear it all. She reached behind and lowered her waistband, which caused a long cow tail to flop out behind her. It was still growing, but it was furry and light creamy brown in colour, with a hair end that swished from side to side automatically. “Oh God! Is that a tail? I’m growing a fucking tail!? MOOO!!!”

The Stranger stirred his drink calmly as the woman poured sweat, overwhelmed by the changes. Her hips expanded yet again, causing her skirt to split a little, and another two buttons pinged off of her shirt. The back and front of her bra snapped, and she had to pull it off and hurl it across the room because of the sheer discomfort it was causing. It left her fat nipples free to drench her uniform further. They were swollen, leaking more and more, and Annabelle was almost tempted to grip them and damn well tug just so more of the build up of milk could be released.

“Sooooo f-full!” she whined. “Please mooo-ake it s-stop!”

Her tail swished back and forth, but it was not the only cow-like change to come into being. Even as she begged and cried, and tried to keep her outfit together while the front tore open, more transformations made themselves known. Her ears thinned out, becoming softer and downier and longer, until they were cute cow ears that dangled and shifted on either side of her head. She grunted, reaching up from her breasts to touch her scalp as two fierce pains began there. It grew and grew until she was terrified her skull might burst, when suddenly two sharp points did in fact burst through. They pushed through her brown hair to become two prominent bovine horns, three inches or so in length each, and completely unable to be disguised by her hair.

“Horns? I don’t want horns!”

“But cows have horns,” the Stranger said matter-of-factly. “Just like they have tails. And udders for milking.”

Even among the strange changes, Annabelle paused to take notice of what he’d just said. The wounds around her new horns healed, the slight trickle of blood receding back into her scalp, but even as the pain dissipated, the horror of his words sank fully into her stomach.

And then down below it.

“Mooo! NO! MOOO!!!”

But it was too late. The new cow woman still had one major change to go, and it was perhaps the biggest and most alien one yet. The bloating sensation that was still occurring within her breasts manifested even more powerfully below her belly button. The skin pushed forward, becoming thicker and pinker and coarser. Four nubs expanded, pushing against her shirt. She was already showing a gargantuan amount of sweaty, milk-filled cleavage where her shirt had popped open, but now the bottom buttons began to segment. Her skirt was rapidly filled by an enormous new organ that was easily the size of both her now-G-cup tits put together. It rounded out, becoming increasingly heavy. She had to hold onto the counter ahead of her just to stay upright, until her tail automatically pointed out further to counterbalance her changing centre of gravity.

“OHhhhhh, mooo! MOOO!! This can’t be happening! Whoever you are, I’m s-sorry! I didn’t moo-ean to! I’ll mooo-ake you a better coffee, I swear! Ahhhh! Ah-ah-OHHH!!”

“I know you will, Annabelle,” the Stranger said. “Such a perfect name for a cow. We should get you a little cowbell.”

His gaze fell upon her neck, and sure enough a small tinkling cowbell now hung from a necklace, resting against her huge, heaving, pillow-like breasts. They were still filling with milk, but her primary concern was the even larger milk bag swelling between her legs.

“S-so heavy!” she breathed. “S-so heavy!”

“It’ll get heavier, when it fills.”
“F-fills?”

“I still want cream, remember?”

And just like that, the enormous mount still trapped within her over-stretched skirt began to pump full of milk. Annabelle gasped like a woman in the throes of orgasm. She was utterly overheated, the sheer act of creating so much milk sapping her body and making it run hotter than she could bear. She fell into gasps, her hands stumbling as she reached to unleash her udder from its waistband. It was painful to pull so tight, but she managed to finally get the band beneath the udder, leaving the new milk-producing organ to spill out, already spurting milk from its four teats.

“MMhhmmm! Ohhhhhhh - soooo mooo-uuuuch mooo-illllk!!”

It spilled everywhere, even as it grew. It was nearly the size of a beachball, and ridiculously warm. The skin was stretched tight, the bag full with produce just like her breasts. She looked at the stranger, who had finally stood to circle around the counter.

“No! D-don’t! Please!”

But he didn’t listen. There was another shudder as her boobs expanded one more time to a cupsize she didn’t even know could be quantified - they were each bigger than her own damn head now! Her udder gurgled unpleasantly, milk pouring from her four nubs. She tried to hold it steady as it swayed uncomfortably, only to retract her hand immediately: it was so sensitive, so sore! So full!

The Stranger smiled as if this was perfectly ordinary. Then, as he changed finally finished, her big udder fully on display and her breasts just barely contained behind her wet top, he reached over with his mug, grabbed one of her teats.

And pulled.

“MOOOO!!!” she moaned. A stream of milk poured into the Stranger’s coffee mug. He brought it up to his lips and sampled it, sighing with relief.

“Now that is a good coffee,” he said. “Don’t forget the milk next time, Annabelle. I doubt you ever will. I’d suggest you start milking soon, however. I’ve made sure you produce quite a lot. Consider it a blessing for the future popularity of your diner.”

He finished his coffee in two great gulps, set it down, and placed a generous tip in the jar with what looked like gold coins. Actual, ancient gold coins.

“For your troubles,” he said.

Annabelle couldn’t stop him. She was afraid too. He left, the bell ringing to signal his exit, and she was left stuck as an incredibly busty, milky cow-woman, complete with a prodigious udder.

“Oh God, I need to be moo-ilked,” she stammered. “What is Robbie going to think of moo-eee?”

She would have to wait until the end of the day to find out his reaction, but the next came shortly thereafter. She had only just begun to moan and milk herself into some of the spare bottles out back when another Ding sounded.

Her next customer had arrived, and she had no idea what to do.

She hoped they liked cream in their coffee, though.

To Be Continued . . .