My Curse to Bear- Udder Disaster (Patreon)

After having my lips inflate the previous day, I seriously contemplated calling into work. If it wasn’t a Saturday dinner shift, I probably would have. However, dinner shifts were usually busy and weekend shifts like these were hard to come by. While I don’t have a ton of curves, I wore a skirt, rather than pants. Say what you want about the strategy, but any server will tell you that you do what you can to milk a little extra tip out of every table! Despite my lack of curves in the good areas, my legs were always my best physical quality. Well that, and my smile. 

The shift started out well enough and soon, any thoughts of the previous day had been buried in the back of my mind. While I was taking an order for a family of four, I caught a guy at the bar leering at me a bit. I smiled softly to him, making a mental note to give him a free slice of pie or something to increase my tip. Hey, stop judging me reader. It’s a common tactic! When I began walking away, something felt off. I couldn’t really place it, but it was kind of like my center of gravity had shifted ever so slightly. Shrugging it off, I rewrote the ticket for the four-top (since the cooks tell me my handwriting is putrid). Near the end of it, my hand started to cramp a bit. That’s happened to me before, but not usually this early into a shift. 

I cut through the area between the bar and counter to give the order to the kitchen, and felt my butt make solid contact with the side of the counter. I furrowed my brow, cursing under my breath for taking the corner too sharply and handed the paper to the cook. While I was bent a bit to hand it to him, I saw another server walking behind me. When she went to pass me, I playfully stuck my butt out to mess with her. I was not prepared to hear a crash behind me as the poor girl was knocked into the area where we keep the cups. Mortified, I spun around to apologize and help her up. Bent all the way over, I realized two things: One, my fingers looked a bit swollen. Two, I could feel a draft travelling up my skirt. That shouldn’t be possible though. I’ve always been careful picking skirts, knowing that I would sometimes have to bend over. The other worker mentioned that I might need lotion of something, as my hand felt really rough. That was enough for me to excuse myself to the bathroom.

My hands weren’t just swollen and rough anymore. They looked like sausages and I could barely bend them! My attention turned to my skirt, as I could see it was riding higher in the back than it should. Lifting my skirt, my eyes widened as my backside was far more pronounced. My thighs had also gained a bit of mass. The growth had caused my underwear to bunch up between my cheeks but I couldn’t do much about it with my grossly swollen fingers. As voluptuous as my lower body looked, a sense of dread began welling inside me. I stood there for ten minutes, afraid that I would grow more. When I didn’t, I figured ‘okay, the curse was a big butt and swollen hands. I can deal with this.’

Believe it or not, my tips increased dramatically over the next couple of hours. I’m sure my butt had something to do with it. Writing orders wasn’t really possible but the other server was sweet, and followed me to tables. I could still serve food, as my hands had enough dexterity to hold larger objects. Honestly, I didn’t mind this ‘curse’ at all right now. Her handwriting was better than mine anyway. My underwear was annoying, but not unlike a thong. I got used to the feeling and, approaching the final hour of my shift, I felt great! Just remember how happy I sound right now, because that’s the last time you’ll hear it.

My ears began to twitch uncontrollably in the final hour. Annoying, but not a killer. As I was telling a large group of business goers about our specials, I found myself lisping worse and worse. At first I thought my lips were inflating again but that wasn’t the case. A bit embarrassed, I stood there while they ordered while pressing my lips together to see if they were growing. When one asked for a steak, I opened my mouth to ask how he wanted it cooked. When I did, the whole gasped as a long, wide, thick tongue fell out of my mouth! Reactively, I brought my hands up to cover my mouth and found my hands to be missing two fingers, while the remaining digits had grown thicker and wider. My nails, normally a pink color, where jet black and looked to be even harder than a normal nail. I excused myself and took two steps away before freezing in my tracks, right in the middle of the restaurant as my underwear snapped, falling to the ground between my legs.

I thought my butt had grown again. Maybe I just walked too fast. No, that wasn’t it at all. A pressure formed just below my navel making me wince, my tongue lolling out once again. I couldn’t just examine it for fear of exposing myself to the entire restaurant. It wasn’t necessary anyway, because soon, I felt the pressure intensify to the point that I dropped to my knees and screamed. I could feel something pressing against my thicker thighs, raising the front of my skirt up even more. Gripping the bottom hem of it, I pulled down, exposing the top of my backside a bit to anyone behind me. Sitting back on my legs, I could hear the whispering, the gasps, in fact, it seemed like I could even hear the dishwasher outside, who had stepped out for a smoke. I felt my ear flick again, except this time, I SAW my ear out of the corner of my eye. My fat fingers traced the outline of them with a frightened look on my face. It felt like they were a mile long, even though it was more like six inches. I shivered as I felt a part of my skin touch the cold floor and looking down, it looked like I had a basketball between my legs. I was going to have to stand up at some point in time, but my lower body felt so heavy at this point, I wasn’t sure I could. As if on cue, I felt my thighs and calves expand again, muscle forming under the soft, supple fat.

When I stood up, the entire restaurant collectively gasped. I couldn’t stand with a normal gait, as the basketball thing forced me into a much wider stance. With all eyes on me, I opened my mouth to try and ask for help. What came out was unmistakably a loud moo. With eyes as wide as saucers, I tried again and mooed even louder. The moo sent shivers down my spine and straight into the massive bulge between my legs. Biting my lip, I felt it expand at a rapid pace. The weight, even with my enhanced lower half, was becoming too much to bear! Right when I thought I was going to drop down again, the growth suddenly stopped.

There was a long silence in the restaurant, almost as though everything was frozen. I took a wobbly step, my knee grazing the side of the udder… yes, I said that. I have an udder, and not a little one either. It hung down to my knees and was painfully full. I bend over, no longer able to hide my nether region and attempted to wrap my fingers around a teat. Braving it once more, I opened my mouth to speak. Thankfully, I didn’t moo this time but what I asked for was just as humiliating. I needed someone to milk my udder, as my fingers couldn’t bend properly to do it on my own. I wasn’t shocked when no one stepped up to help me. For all they know, I could be contagious. Finally, one of my regular customers cleared his throat and offered to help. Once he started, a couple other people also helped. Now, listen; I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but the feeling I got when I was being milked was actually really good. I had to close my eyes and remind myself over and over again that this was horrible to stop myself from moaning!

The drive home was an experience. Even after being milked, the udder was still the size of a small beach ball. Add to that my enlarged posterior and thick legs and let me tell you, finding a position to drive was a challenge. I gutted through the discomfort and got home, cursing the fact that I lived on the fifth floor of a building with no elevator. Step, jiggle. Step, jiggle jiggle. You can imagine how long it took to reach my front door. Exhausted, I unlocked the door and threw my keys, and useless skirt on the table. I needed to shower, but couldn’t bring myself to do so. Instead, I plopped down on the couch immediately regretting that decision. The couch creaked ominously while my udder rested on my thighs. How was I supposed to show my face at work looking like this?!