How Now Brunette Cow?

Chapter 1

“Where is it?” I asked myself aloud as I crawled across the padded floor. He said there was another carton here, I want another carton. No, I need another one. I need it right the fuck now. They’re the only thing that feels good anymore now. I had an odd moment of lucidity and all but screamed. What the fuck am I even doing? My stomach hurts, the aching kind of agony of being empty for days, or even weeks. My body wants me to eat. No, to drink. I need to drink another carton of that milk. I know that this is playing directly into the hands of whoever put me here, but I don’t care anymore. I need it, I’ll die if I don’t have more now. I’ll die I’ll die I’ll- my mental rant suddenly stopped when I saw it.

As I rounded a corner I saw exactly what I needed, another carton of that milk. I know it isn’t really milk. Not normal, safe milk anyway. Normal milk didn’t do this to you. I felt my chest. My chests? I don’t know anymore to be honest. I had another pair of breasts, directly under the normal pair. Fuck, they weren’t even normal outside of their number anymore. They had grown by at least two cup sizes, before my body began to develop more of them, and they were far more sensitive than they used to be. I want to touch them, to lick them, to suck on them, and I feel that want almost constantly. All I could think of was how to feel them more. No, in fact that wasn’t even the thing I wanted the most. The thing I wanted the most was right here. It was this milk. It was what did all of this to me, I felt like I was stuck between two worlds, and need more milk to get me to the next.

I didn’t even know what I was doing, the urgent need was so strong, but apparently, I had opened the carton I found. I was aware of it now, and began to drink it as quickly as I could manage without spilling. I couldn’t risk wasting one drop of this delicious elixir. Well, it actually tasted just like normal milk. Especially good, but otherwise normal. But I knew it was poison, even as I drank it, I knew it was worse than any poison. The worst thing that poison could do was kill you. This was making me into somebody else entirely. Into something else. But, even as I thought that, I kept drinking.

I didn’t stop until I drained the carton dry, not even to breathe. I shouldn’t think like that’s a lot, I would have done the same with a gallon. I know that I shouldn’t even drink this much, yet I wanted more, I wanted a lot more. I licked my lips and sucked on nothing in particular, as I rubbed my upper pair of breasts. I don’t know why, they just felt like they needed to be touched. They all did. So I began to rub my lower pair with my elbows as my fingers got the upper set. It was something, but it still wasn’t enough. I was certain that I was doing this because of what the milk was doing to me. I lifted up one of my upper breasts to my lips, then latched on and sucked. It felt good. It felt too good, it felt better than sex. It sent electric shivers up and down my spine so hard that I collapsed onto the floor. My butt hurt, but other than a bit of pain I was unharmed, so I continued to suck on my nipple. It was good, but the more I did it, the surer I was that it wasn’t enough. So, despite the alarms blaring in my mind I scoot myself to the side a bit and put my back against a wall. I told my mental alarms to suck it, as I literally began sucking on something else, and lifted my other breast up toward my mouth. Somehow, it already felt larger and heavier than the other had, hardly one minute before. Still I needed to feel it more, to taste it. So I opened my mouth and put two nipples into it at once, I felt the hair on the back of my neck standing up, but the real sensations didn’t begin until I started sucking.

When I did, I felt like it was so good I might go insane. My body tried to scream, but doing that would mean letting my nipples fall out of my mouth, and that was a risk that I simply couldn’t accept. It wasn’t like somebody had taken the sensation of doing this on one side and simply doubled it. No, it felt far stronger than that. It made me wonder how it would feel with even more stimulation. So, I grabbed a third breast and tried to lift it to my mouth. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to fit them all into my mouth. But it didn’t even get that far. As I sucked on the other two, I lifted a third as high as it could go, which was hardly to my collarbone. I tried to heft the thing upward for what felt like years, but got no closer to my mouth with it. I knew it wouldn’t work, but I tried the other out of sheer desperation. It didn’t work either, no surprise there. I began rubbing each of my lower nipples, between my index fingers and thumbs, while rapidly alternating between sucking on the upper pair, and flicking my tongue across their nipples. It wasn’t as big of a change in sensation as sucking on them had been, but it was certainly good. I had a thought that would have made me blush if every inch of my skin wasn’t already anyway. If I had someone else to suck on my lower pair, that would be some kind of heaven. But, even that thought lead to another, even stranger, thought. It had taken about a dozen cartons of milk and about a month for me to grow a second pair of breasts, how much would it take for a third?

That sent my mind back to what had happened when I first got here. I know something is wrong with my memory, because I have bits and pieces of the whole, floating in nothingness. It was like an insane inversion of Swiss cheese, like there are flickers of reality floating in the void. So, all I could do was think on those specs of memory as I drank. I was a student once, and I was walking out of class and to my car when it hopeless, I think. Something was put over my face, and I lost consciousness before the light returned to my eyes. I then awoke here? Awoke in this stupid cow print thing. A bikini I think. Or something similar to one anyway. The thought that someone had stripped me naked and clothed me while I was unconscious, made me furious when it happened. Now it just makes me want to drink, then again everything does that to me now. I suspect that my mind is degenerating somehow, but I love it. I want more. Which only makes me more certain that something is horrible wrong, this ought to inspire fear and rebellious furor, not the desire for more. Yet, want more I did. Once I was here I began to wake every morning to food. Hell, I can’t see the sky, or any clocks, so it probably isn’t even morning. But, every time I slept, I awoke to more food. At first, it was more or less what I ate before coming here. Both in quantity and type. But, over time it changed. More fatty and sweet foods, and more of them as well. I was starting to get fat, and at first, I tried to fight it, to eat less, leaving food untouched on the ground, and to exercise as well. I didn’t have equipment for it, but I could run, I could do jumping jacks, push-ups, and squats. Then I got my first carton of milk. It was sweet, and rather tasty, but other than being especially good tasting, it was exactly the same as any ordinary milk. But then I started to change.

At first it was normal enough. I started to gain a bit of weight, my belly was growing quicker than it normally would, but I had replaced my thrice weekly gym visits with a few push-ups, so that was no big surprise. Then I noticed my chest growing at an alarming pace. I had been this heavy before, heavier even. But my chest was never this large. It seemed like my body only stored fat on my torso, my chest and belly to be exact. I was painfully aware of how unusual this was. But what could I do? Hunger stroke? Against who? Whoever was feeding me and clothing me, was nowhere to be seen. Even the food that I ate seemed to simply appear before me as I slept. Along with cartons of milk every few days, at first I figured their tastiness came from the simple fact that they were whole milk, a thing I had not consumed in so long that I couldn’t recall the taste. It made sense, even at that time I knew the food I received was especially fattening, and losing weight is why I didn’t drink whole milk anyway. But, I began to gain weight faster by the day, with my belly swelling up dramatically. Only to split into two mounds of fat, mounds that then grew areolas, and then nipples. The horrifying part is that, I don’t even remember noticing it. I know that is what happened in the same way you know the information that you memorized from a textbook. Which I absolutely know is not normal for something so intimate.

My knowledge of the fact that it is the milk doing this to me was even worse. I only knew that I believed it was probably the case. Not even why. I mean, it would make just as much sense to be anything else, or not the food at all. Whoever runs this place has absolute control of my diet, but I just knew it was that milk. Even worse, it made me want the milk more, not less. So, when I noticed a carton on the floor, I drank it immediately. Then, I changed my daily runs for exercise into a constant search for the stuff. I found the milk on the ground, seemingly at random, some days I found none, some I found two. It made me hope to find three or more some time. But I was addicted to the stuff, and badly too. I didn’t even notice the change until it was long passed. I didn’t just want the stuff anymore, I NEEDED it. Like, I was desperate for it the way a suffocating person is desperate for air. So, every day I wandered the halls and rooms, in search of milk cartons.

Which brings me to this morning. When I found another carton of milk. Now, I felt no clear signs of my body changing again, but I didn’t even know what signs to look for. I would simply keep an eye out for anything new or different. But I didn’t notice anything new or different on my body. I found it right in front of me, when I awoke the next day.

I awoke from a dream, in my dream I had found a beautiful waterfall. But, rather than water, it flowed with milk. What must have been thousands of gallons of milk poured into my waiting mouth at the waterfall’s basin. I awoke on the ground, playing with my chest and moaning. The moment I awoke I realized that, and sighed, saying “Well, nobody saw that, except maybe my kidn-“ and I was stopped by the sight of it.

A gigantic vending machine that very nearly reached the ceiling was the first thing I saw, every single space in the machine was the same though. It was a carton of milk with the numbers 0.00 beneath it. I walked up to the machine, and wondered, “Is this what that dream was about?” out loud. I pressed a button on the machine, just to see if it worked out normally. I pressed a button, largely at random. The metal rings that held milk cartons began to turn. All of them, at once. A dozen or so cartons of milk fell to the bottom of the machine. I leaned forward to press in the little, swinging flap, and remove a single carton of milk, identical to the ones that I had received, either in my meals, or found from the regular searches that I had performed.

I spent what felt like hours staring at the carton of milk that I held in my hand, I knew it couldn’t have been as long as I had thought, because the milk was still just as cold as it had been at first. I felt my lower lip quivering, and slowly popped the carton open. I was sure that this milk and how it affected me, was why I was even here. I held the carton closer to my face, certain that this was my last chance to stop. Yet, I simply did not have the will to do that. I began to too the carton before wrenching my body to the side, turning the momentum of the movement into hurling the milk as far as I could, where the carton emptied itself onto the floor, against a wall. I kept turning to face away from the vending machine, and sprinted down the hallway. I felt a strangely strong pull toward the carton that lay on the floor, so strong that I nearly fell.

I ran till I hit a wall, then took a few steps to the side. I knew that a straight line of sight would go cleanly from the wall, so the few steps were needed, just so that no turning would put that thing back in my line of sight. Then I slammed my back against the wall and slid to the floor, crying. “What’s the point?” I cried, “I’m trapped in here with that thing anyway. I can’t leave, I have no other food. If this is why I’m here, then I doubt my captor will just let me go.” I began to pace the perimeter of my area, with the knowledge of where that vending machine was, eating away at the interior of my mind. But I did my best to ignore it, succeeding for what felt like years. Eventually I fell to the floor, and my mind spun about, on what to do.

Eventually I awoke, not even remembering falling asleep. Just my dream. It was a continuation of my prior dream , in which a waterfall emptied a river of milk into my open mouth. After a short time, I grew a third pair of breasts, then a fourth. More kept popping up on every inch of skin that I had, and they all grew by the second, as milk continued to pour into me, until I was a towering ball of flesh, that fell on the ground, rubbing countless nipples and flooding my mind with so much pleasure that I awoke with a scream. The first thing I saw was a single carton of milk on the ground, a short distance away. I felt the blood rushing to my head, as I got on my hands and knees. I felt my body began to crawl towards the carton, as if on its own. I felt my arms and legs shaking and wobbling beneath me, and my breasts swaying with each crawling step. Then I noticed my other pair of breasts swaying, they rubbed against the first pair, reminding me of how unusual my body was already. My limbs felt like noodles, wobbling so badly that I felt myself slide and collapse on to the floor. As I hit the ground I felt pain, the normal sort of pain that came from falling, but that was not what got my attention. What got my attention was my four breasts hitting the ground at once. The little pulses of pleasure and stimulation melded together into a single, white hot, wave of pleasure that overwhelmed my mind and body. It was so strong that I think I nearly passed out, I tried to drop myself to get that sensation again, to get four separate pinprick of sensation, each was not even a tenth as strong as the one I had gotten before. I did that again and again, feeling like I was doing push-ups for somebody, but never getting that synchronized feeling again. After a dozen or so “push-ups” I got two of my breasts to hit the floor simultaneously, eliciting a giddy smile from me, as a moderate wave of pleasure overtook me. I had an odd thought, this would be easy if I were more like the me from that dream. If I had more, bigger, breasts. The thought was crazy, but it made me look toward the carton of milk on the floor before me. I felt myself shivering, as I crawled toward the carton. Why not feel good? Why fight it? I would be there soon enough anyway. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what I was going to school for, forget if I was aby good at it, so, if I lost a bit more of my mind, what of it? Even as I was, the best I could hope for was pleasure. I felt myself blushing more and more deeply as I crawled, feeling my arms and legs jiggling. When I got to the milk I reached for it, and came uo just short of the carton, falling forward, with my hand landing on the carton, as my chests hit the ground. It happened simultaneously again this time, filling me with so much pleasure that I hardly remained conscious again. That jolt of pleasure was all of the reminding that I needed to practically chug the little carton of milk. I shivered with satisfaction, and stood, before running toward that vending machine. I needed more. So much more.

When I finally did reach that machine, I hit the button again, setting the spirals of metal going, putting into motion, the system that would drop another deluge of milk cartons. As I waited for this, I pressed open the flap, to the place where the old cartons were. My original plan was to simply toss the old cartons aside to make room for the new, but when my hand touched one, I practically shivered from, not excitement, but cold. The whole interior the machine was cooled. So, I simply removed the carton and popped it open, practically chugging the contents of it as I blindly began pushing buttons for more with one hand, as the other opened the flap over the segment that the milk was dropped into. I scooped out three more cartons, and began to drink as wuickl6 as I could.


The next morning, a man in a dark grey duster jacket, over a drab, nondescript outfit strolled out to the proving grounds, where the transformative milk was fed to test subjects. Wolf was the codename of the man who scooped up people who would not be missed for testing. Subject fifty was inside, she was incredibly close to breaking, and would probably give in any day now. Wolf had gotten forty-nine other women to do so, so he knew fifty’s transformation was nearly complete. He knew that she would be asleep when he went in to leave more temptations for the woman to find when she woke.

But, when Wolf entered the facility he found that he had apparently overestimated fifty’s will to fight. He found her almost instantly. The woman couldn’t hide if she tried anymore.

Wolf let out a low, slow, whistle, as he approached fifty. She was laying on her stomach on the ground, in front of a vending machine. Well, “stomach” may be a bit of a stretch. More like chest. Chests? The woman was held aloft by two rows of breasts, the normal two, with four beneath them. All six were so large that they practically melded together with the breasts above and/or below them, horizontally they were large enough that Wolf could hardly see the center of fifty’s torso. She was topeless, several times over, as two, bikini tops that had each been snapped apart, lie on the floor. Why Fifty looked like this was obvious, as she constantly repeated the cycle of pressing buttons on the vending machine, taking out a carton of milk, and chugging it. “More,” she half said, after finishing a carton. Or more like “mooooore,” to the point that she sounded like something halfway between a human and a cow mooing. Her gigantic ally swollen breasts were each leaking milk, leaving the woman in a large puddle. Wolf crouched down beside the woman, and said, “Here, let me go get you some pumps. You won’t believe how good it feels to have them on all six teets at once.” Fifty didn’t even respond to him, and simply continued to drink, moore and mooore. Wolf smiled and nodded to himself before stepping away to get some pumps for the girl, then he would go get subject fifty-one. Wolf had no idea why, but he was ordered to get a hundred subjects, each transformed by the milk of the last.