Happy Moo Year (Patreon)

(contains human to anthro cow TF, udders, mild weight gain, milk orgasm)

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Music bopped from so many loud speakers it made the whole building thump to the rhythm of a heartbeat. That’s just how the J&D Club liked to work, a palace full of smiles and fun. It didn’t matter if you were a human, a furry, or some alien from Venus holding the current high score on all the pinball machines. All the hostesses and their wait staff cared about was that everyone had a good time.

There were two days a year that put this philosophy through its biggest paces, July fourth and December thirty-first. Tonight happened to be the latter of those two days. Mere hours away from saying goodbye to one of society’s worst years put everyone in a mood to party like the morning would be the start to a glorious utopian era. The dance floor became so packed that many patrons settled on simply bouncing in place, unlike those that grabbed a pole platform to show off their moves, however drunken amateurish they got.

Needless to say, grabbing a seat at the bar became a game of stakeout for the dozens of people standing around with drinks. Deedee the bunny loved challenging nights, but even with two other tenders hired on, she was working up a sweat. Pulling off the usual mixing tricks and small talk was at a minimum in her quest to keep up with demand. It didn’t stop her usual cheery attitude and heart-stopping smile from helping spread good vibes around. Most of the time, a little fluffy bunny cheer can perk anyone up.

Hopping from one end of the counter to the other in a string of smiles made it easy to spot when a very unhappy customer came along. No sooner did an adorable ferret lady take her leave for a bit of dancing with a flashy cardinal than the warm cushion became the support for a human’s rear. Dee barely needed a second of eye contact to surmise their problems; tired marks around her brown eyes, miniscule make-up on peach skin, clumpy black hair, no ring. Poor girl probably just got off work without a wingman. Not that a blond bunny like her could qualify for psychology, you just work a social job long enough and the algorithms become second nature.

“What’s your pleasure, hot stuff?”

“Uhoof!” The woman stared into Dee’s eyes in slight hesitation. While the sight of a happy bombshell seemed enough to deter a sassy reply, a grumpy noise wasn’t much better. “Apparently not much here. I just need something hard to forget this stupid year, and my stupid life.”

“Oh?” Dee’s giant ears dipped slightly. She took a quick glance across the other heads, unable to see anyone in need of immediate service. That meant she could spare a moment on this newest patron. Enough to lean in with an interested grin that left her fluffy white breasts on display. An almost signature move she used to get plenty of guys talking. “I happen to be the co-owner, miss. If there’s a problem with any of our services I’d be happy to…”

“Your fun house is fine,” the lady snapped, perhaps a bit too spitefully since she recoiled afterwards. Naturally, she seemed less interested in the fluffy rack and more about why a drink wasn’t in front of her yet. “I have my own brand of bad luck that I know will not go away with the year. Hell, I only get tomorrow off for a hangover and then it’s back to filing work for a bitch I’m sure doesn’t know the difference between a Linux and an Apple.”

“Ah, dang. One of those jobs, huh?” Bottles clicked into place with the practiced movements Dee’s body had ingrained into its wide curves. The jury was still out on exactly what kind of cocktail she was about to brew. Sounded like the poor lady needed a stress reliever, narrowing the list significantly. “If you need a friend for the holiday, there’s plenty around here. I’m surprised we still got elbow room.”

“What? You think I haven’t been trying the past hour waiting for a damn barstool to open up? So far I’ve asked six guys and two gals out on the floor, cause really I’m not picky right now. Seems like every fish has been caught and I arrived too late for even the leftover bait.”

“Bit of overkill there, hun.” Dee wrinkled her pink nose, able to keep a smile as the ranting relaxed her current customer. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a New Year or a Tuesday. We all get a fresh start to do things better tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. Honestly, I’ll never understand all this chaos over a damn day change. It’s about as depressing as my birthday, another reminder of the slow march to our graves.”

“Gosh, you sound like nothing at all has happened. Surely you got some memories to reflect on. Perhaps some accomplishments or magnificent feats worth looking back and saying, ‘Yeah. I kicked ass.’”

“Do I look like someone that can say that?” The woman gestured to her tired face, crackling her first natural smile in the minutes they’d been conversing. “Everyone’s got something to be proud of, but what’s the point if no one else cares what I did? Hell, I’d almost feel better not doing my job and let the office fold under. That’d at least left an impact.”

“Also, a lot better you didn’t do something so mean to innocent coworkers. Don’t let bitterness eat away the nice woman you really are.”

The new arrival eyed Dee, only to find the bunny taking measurements into a shaker. There was a trick to every drink, and a drink for every problem. Now the bunny felt she had enough of a read on her customer to mix a perfect solution.

“Uh, miss bunny? What are you…?”

“Hang on a second,” Dee said in a delighted squeal. Several heads turned towards her when the shaker came up and began sloshing violently in her waving hands. An action that brought a lot of bounce to her chest. “Sounds to me like you need a good Orgasm.”

“I… um… Excuse you!?”

“Irish cream and Italian liquor,” Dee explained as she poured a rich white liquid into a glass of ice. One drop of a maraschino cherry and her elegant paws slide it before the flustered human. “I’m flattered you think that way, but contrary to stereotypes, I’m not that kind of bunny.”

“...you still did that on purpose?”

“Got a reaction, didn’t it? We’re all here to have fun. Oops! Speak of the devil, I’m being flagged. You enjoy that, honey. Still a few minutes for something good to happen before the ball drops.”

“Yeah? Like what?” The woman’s question had been rhetorical since Dee already left with a shake of her cottontail.

To the barmaids credit, she can whip up a damn good drink under any circumstances. After watching the bubbly blond leave, Hattie, who never wanted to share her name, splashed the milky brew across her tongue. She soaked in its flavor and took a proper swig which led into chugging the whole thing. No way in heaven milk should taste this good. Maybe it was the Italian liquor talking. She’d had nothing fancier than a Budweiser after work.

Cold ice plunked against Hattie’s upper lip, telling her the wonderful cocktail was now consumed. She set the glass down licking residual milk under her nose. Hopefully, those bimbo anthros don’t charge an arm and leg for this kind of booze, because she was ready to drink it under the table.

“Hrrk?” Holy hell, that stuff really hit her stomach like a bomb. Hattie hunched over the bar, one hand gripping at her abdomen trying to ease the tension seizing up her insides. Seconds of heavy breathing passed, the bar’s rampant music fading into a distant throb to match the shifting of her insides.

The moment passed and Hattie heaved in relief, relaxing once more. That was an odd moment she felt needed a few choice words with the bunny. Hattie straightened herself up, but couldn’t even get her hand in the air for attention before realizing something else was horribly wrong. Her other hand remained holding her churning stomach and felt an off shuffling with her movements. It was like there was a layer of something else between her shirt and skin now, which tickled from her experimenting rubs.

Hattie glanced around before lifting the hem of her shirt. “What the m-moo?”

If the sight of her stomach, no, her whole torso growing fur wasn’t alarming enough, the animal noise that cut off her vocalizing sure smacked Hattie sober. Everything her shirt had been covering sported a bleached snow white pelt decorated in blotches of dark black. It was pleasantly soft, but she found herself more distracted by her flesh firming up underneath.

“Aah!?” Hattie recoiled from her midsection thanks to a sudden shifting in her chest. That got a few neighbors’ attention, and they all starred with her wide eyes as the swell of her bust became significantly more pronounced. The straps of her bra dug into fuzzy shoulders, trying to hold such increasing weights while undersized cups became outlined in the cotton.

Before she could process this surge in rack size, the force inflicting it took a sharp plunge, making her moo again. Hands flew to the seat of her skirt, helpless to keep her hips and ass from expanding to cover more of the barstool. An itching against the fabric signaled the fur was also spreading to her other regions. “S-someone? Help moo? What’s going on?”

“First rule when transforming here, relax,” replied a short gerbil sipping some black beverage next to Hattie. He was all smiles like most patrons, watching fur spill out of Hattie’s shirt sleeves down her arms. “Ol’ Deedee has just taken a liking to you. We’re all here to have a fun experience.”

“The hell does that mean?” Hattie winced. The fur had covered her arms in the same white and black patterns. Her hands stiffened before her awed face, pressing into each other in a fleshy fusion. Hard black bone solidified across the tips, leaving her with two obese digits and an equally thick thumb. “How is this supposed to be fun?”

A river of fur down Hattie’s thighs made her try pulling an increasingly smaller skirt over them. It did little good, especially with them inflating with soft tender meat. They were soon so big they naturally pressed together even in a relaxed state, which better matched the fluffy ass spilling over Hattie’s barstool.

The man said something, but Hattie couldn’t catch it when cramps seized her feet. Tiny heeled shoes clicked to the floor, exposing the growth of her dainty toes into enormous black hooves. Their hard clopping against the floor soon after alerted the changing woman that she had grown considerably in height along with curves. Her gerbil neighbor looked practically like a child sitting next to her.

“Y-you all are cr-crazy! M-moooo!!”

“Trust me, Dee is anything but. She’s helped me through a lot of bad days too.”

A glance around the bar told Hattie that dumb bunny wouldn’t be any help. Deedee was leaning against a far corner entertaining a male human and rottweiler holding hands. Between distance and noise, she’d need a loudspeaker to get their attention.

Not that she could say much with a muzzle growing in. Hattie’s eyes went crossed, gasping at the sight of her nose blimping in size with nostrils drifting inches apart. Tense bone crunches in her jaw promptly forced her eyes shut trying to endure the tension. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to experience outright pain, or she’d already be on the floor passed out. It was still not a pleasant sensation to have one’s jaw extending in sharp bursts until forming a foot long bridge away from the skull. She almost felt safe to move a much plumper tongue when another sharp rip and pushing sensation hit her skull. At least the bar crowd could enjoy when her horns rose like erecting towers through her black hair.

“Arrgh! T-that fucking suuucked!” Hattie got out before she collapsed onto the counter in dry heaves. The transformation took so much out of her that she only got out a meek ‘moo!?’ when a prickling in her spine preceded a ropey tail springing out from over the hem of her skirt. It swished across the bare crack of her butt, waving a greeting to the bar with its black tuft. “Why did that drink make me a furry? Why am I a cow!?”

“Beats me. Dee says she’s a master at unlocking our desires.” The gerbil slapped a bill on the counter and interrupted Hattie when she opened her strange new snout. “No, I don’t know what that means, but hey, enjoy the ball drop.”

“The what?” Hattie sat up, but the tiny rodent already vacated his stool. She had a hunch the sly grinning frog that had witnessed her change would be of even less help when he slid onto the space.

TEN!

“Ah!” Lightning zipped through Hattie’s body, rocking her against the stool.

NINE!

“Nggh! Wh-what?” She glanced around, ignoring floppy bovine ears smacking into her cheeks. Almost everyone’s attention was on the TV’s, showing the New Year’s countdown.

EIGHT!

“Oh fu-moo!” Pressure welled up in Hattie’s stomach again, her hands coming to rest on it.

SEVEN!

No. Not her stomach. Something was happening much closer to her lap.

SIX!

“Ah! Haa! Haa!” Hattie painted, feeling the area just above her crotch bulging out.

FIVE!

“No freaking moo way!” Tension in her skirt waist forced Hattie to pull it down. Four large nubs were poking out of the swelling protrusion, becoming easier to see as the fur thinned.

FOUR!

She could only moan as the fleshy protrusion continued pouring into her lap. Its tender flesh becoming bare pink skin and almost squishy in her hands, not unlike her newly grown breasts.

THREE!

“Nonononono!” Hattie sputtered in rapid gasps, as if it could influence her final transformation. The saggy sacks’ growth slowed, but now she could feel it firming up, becoming full with a heavy sloshing substance.

TWO!

Through the haze of trying to hold back the thick pink bulge, Hattie could hear a metal clank coming from between her feet. Movements of another presence tickled her body fur, confirmed by a gentle patting of a small hand on her back.

“Easy, girl. We got you covered!” A voice whispered into her flicking cow ear. It was slightly deeper than Dee’s and seemed to command a lot more direct confidence.

ONE!

“Gah!? Mah...ma-MOOOOOO!!” Hattie gasped as the tension in her udder reached its peak. She reared her head back, crying out in chorus to a bar full of cheering humans and animal people. Every voice, roar, or howl became unanimous with each other for the first moment going into the new year.

For Hattie, it was also the torrents of milk that exploded out of her new third mammary gland. The bar became flooded with the scent of fresh cream, much to the appreciation of her audience. Cheers for the new years turned to encouraging the new cowgirl as seconds ticked by with no end to her production flow.

Of course, time is relative. While Hattie’s dazed thoughts might have felt like a year’s worth of pleasing release, her udder soon deflated back into a more relaxed state until its teats trickled to a full stop. She was almost disappointed the experience had to end, gently kneading the soft pink sack for a few extra spurts, and then just enjoying how sensitive its skin felt.

“Damn, you’re a natural at this!” The same voice from before startled Hattie out of her bovine stupor. Beside her stood a female cat of pure black fur, complimented by a green string bikini. She comforted the exhausted cow before bending down in front of them to retrieve what Hattie realized was a bucket full of her milk. “Hey, Dee! Give her a discount on the drink. We got enough cream to last a week.”

“Is that your good deed for the year, Jay?” Deedee asked, getting a chortle out of many barflies.

“Damn straight! I like to get it out of the way early.” Jay passed the bucket along to the bunny bartender. Before Hattie could question further, the lean kitty spun her around on the stool and yanked her off with both hands. “Now come along, Betsy. The year is only getting started.”

“W-wait, I don’t...dance!” Hattie staggered along with Jay onto the dance floor. Many of the crowd had cleared out, making it easy for her waddling curves and udder to move through. It helped a lot that many people continued to offer calls of support as they moved aside.

“Always a first time for everything,” Jay said with a grin. “Dee may set our guests up for success, but it’s my job to get you there.”

Hattie staggered, feeling her tail curls against her... butt?

“W-what? How!?” Hattie looked down at herself and gasped. Without her even noticing, her shirt and skirt were just gone. In their place was a blue spandex top that hefted her might tights without the strain and a matching thong that was a love more modest covering than Jay’s. Granted, it did nothing to conceal the udder bouncing to the step of her thighs. “I...I didn’t want this!”

“Sometimes it’s not about what you want but what you need, sweetie.” Jay opened her hands wide in a revealing gesture. “You want to be appreciated for you hard work? Be surrounded by good vibes and love? We got that here in spades. Why don’t you try tackling that pole that just opened up? I bet you can shake those milk makers like a demon.”

For all accounts, Hattie’s first instinct was to smack this rowdy feline and demand to be changed back. This had certainly not been her idea of receiving due praise. Her eyes flickered in between thoughts, though, and caught sight of what Jay was presenting to her.

Lots of people were watching her. Many offered softer encouragements, complimented her, and admired her. Did it really matter if it wasn’t coming from her coworkers? Why did she even care what that bitch boss thought to begin with? There were tons of better things to be doing, especially with so much liquid energy making her hooves bounce in place.

“I... well.. .moo! I mean, m-maybe just...one dance.”