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Pep Rally (7 Parts)
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 21:29:59 +0000 UTCNote: This is a story-prompt for Noeh Varviille.
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1.
Sam sneezed.
“Hun, are you coming down with something?” her father asked in concern.
“It’s barely a cold,” Sam responded, not even looking up from her laptop. She wanted to finish her English essay before tomorrow’s pep rally so she could do her routine clear-headed. “Though I appreciate your concern.”
Her father frowned slightly, then returned his attention to his newspaper. Her mother continued to bustle about the kitchen. She was trying out another new dinner recipe.
That evening, Sam went to bed, feeling oddly bloated. She shrugged it off, and fell asleep almost instantly, more tired than she had realized.
The next morning Sam awoke to a surprise.
Her body felt off as she got out of bed. She felt even more bloated than before, and her stomach was noticeably sticking out.
She went to her bedroom mirror and was shocked to see that her nose was much wider than it had been the previous night. Her face was rather flushed, and her breasts were noticeably larger. So was her gut. Sam stared down at the way it stretched out her pajama top.
“Sam, did you oversleep?” said her mother, barging right in, and Sam instinctively hugged herself. “You’re going to be late for your—oh—oh dear.” She covered her mouth, staring at Sam with wide eyes. Sam’s dad poked his head into the room, and became equally stunned.
It was apparent to the small family that Sam had developed a genetic disease last seen in one of her distant cousins, who was twenty-years her senior. The disease caused the victim to develop into a human/cow, and suffer spontaneous—sometimes constant—pregnancies.
After recovering from her shock, Sam’s parents embraced her. They had always discussed the possibility of this. Sam had been prepared, even if she had never thought it would actually happen to her.
They refused to mourn the disease. In fact, Sam’s mother looked at Sam’s gently bulging belly and got a little teary.
“We’ll need a crib, and baby clothes, and—oh, we don’t have any supplies. We don’t have much time. Don’t worry about a thing, hun. Today I’ll go shopping.” And her mother hurried off.
Sam’s father squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. “We prepared you for this, Sam. I don’t want to see you crumble under this.”
Sam swallowed, and nodded.
“Ready for your pep rally?”
Not at all. “Yeah,” said Sam, and she forced a grin, until it became genuine. Her dad was right. This disease changed nothing.
-
Throughout the school day, Sam was growing rapidly. It was hard enough being a high school senior, without dealing with uncomfortable pressure, tender nipples, and a weird, achy development beneath them that made her squirm and fidget through her lessons.
During a stop in the bathroom, Sam lifted her bloating breasts, and examined herself. As she suspected, there was a secondary pair developing beneath the first one, heaving them up. Another characteristic of the disease. Her pubic region had grown bloated and hot, and she was too scared to look at it. That would be her udder coming in. In the mirror, she could see that her nose looked even larger, more square, and had taken on a dark hue.
It was uncomfortable. Sam fidgeted constantly, tugging down her clothes as she progressively outgrew them. She wished she had thought to bring something better to wear than her largest T-shirt. She had taken for granted how fast things could go. Her stride slowly descended to a waddle, her belly blew up, her breasts heated and fattened with milk, and the pink mound above her groin filled her panties to the point of tearing. She could feel the nubs—her teats bulging out, wiggling slightly with the bobbing milk mound. She couldn’t believe how awkward this was. All around the school, people were staring at her.
Sam tried to remain chipper, and explained the disease to her friends. They commiserated over her, but she assured them that she was completely fine. She wasn’t sure if she was lying.
By the time of pep rally that afternoon, Sam was panting and sweaty, and could barely squeeze into her cheer uniform. Her belly was already so large, she looked eight months pregnant. A flash of her udder consistently poked out beneath the skirt of her cheer outfit, and her newly massive EE-cup breasts were barely contained by the top. In fact, some of the flesh of her lower breasts was pushing out at the bottom.
You can do this, Sam reminded herself, her fellow cheerleaders goggling her black cow-nose as she nodded to them. She was ready.
They marched (or waddled) out to the pep rally to cheers, then gasps, then compete silence. Sam wobbled her way to the front of her squad. She could feel her insides lurching and tried not to think about what they contained.
Then she started her routine, with less elegance, but as much enthusiasm as ever. She danced, rocked, and maneuvered herself, at times grabbing onto a squad member to keep her balance. She could feel the others marching and clapping behind her. She could feel her mounds jiggling, her belly heaving, and back straining to support the new weight of it all. God, she felt like she might drop.
And yet she was loving every moment of it. At that moment, Sam knew her dad was right. This disease changed nothing.
2.
Sam’s four breasts had gotten so large so rapidly, that both pairs were straining the two strapless EE-cup bras she had only purchased two days before. Plump flesh overflowed the cups, her mounds flushed, warm, and uncomfortably bloated.
Sam eased herself down on her bed that afternoon and huffed in weariness. It had been a long day at school. She looked down at the bulging mounds in her failing bras, and pulled up her shirt, before freeing her breasts from the confines of the straining cups. She sighed in relief, absently trailing her hands along her large, lurching belly as her nipples contacted the cool air.
Sam reached almost blindly into a bag on her nightstand. She withdrew the custom four-cup bra her mother had purchased for her only the evening before. With some awkward maneuvering, Sam managed to strap it around her torso and ease her four breasts into each large cup. The fit was good, but she was still groaning in discomfort at the sensitivity of her nipples as they rubbed against the soft cotton. Her nipples had gotten large and dark, areola puffy. Panting slightly, Sam eased her breasts out of the bra again, noting, absently, that the bra was a FF-cup. She allowed her breasts to bulge freely, but her nipples continued to distend. They were just so sore. She couldn’t help reaching up and brushing one lightly. It grew impossibly hard, and began to drip. “Mmmghh…” she grimaced and reddened.
She knew it would happen eventually. She just hadn’t expected it to occur before her first pregnancy was over.
Sam reached inside a drawer of the nightstand, this time withdrawing the extra-large four-cup breast pumps, made specifically for people with her affliction. It was another thing her parents had picked up while shopping. They were being almost annoyingly accommodating, but she appreciated it.
Sam hesitated. She knew she was engorged, to an uncomfortable degree. It was probably best to do this now, before things exacerbated, and got out of her control.
So she turned on the pump and gingerly attached each suction part to each of her four breasts. She moaned quietly as she leaned back against her pillows, absently drawing her skirt up her thighs, to allow her udder to bulge free in her lap. It was already the size of a volleyball.
The mass wobbled and ached, as though in protest that her breasts were getting all the attention. It even seemed to tighten. She shuddered, hips twitching.
Sam just arched, and closed her eyes, as the pump’s large container gradually filled with milk. She allowed her four mounds to jiggle, as she breathed thinly, and tried to get comfortable beneath the shifting weight of her belly. She looked as though she was due with twins by then.
-
By the end of the week, a custom udder-pump had been purchased, and Sam had to take frequent breaks throughout the school day to pump her breasts and udders before they filled to the point of leaking.
Her milk was donated. There was just so much of it. Her milk-mounds were just getting bigger and bigger, as was her belly.
She waddled about when she walked, though mobility wasn’t the only issue. Sam found herself fidgeting constantly, as heat pooled in her loins and her body flushed. All the rapid changes, and the pregnancy, were making her hot and wanting, even despite the fact that she was still a virgin.
An end-of-the-year party saw another huge life change for Sam. The party was at the house of Scott Murray, star football player and prom king, and Sam spent most of the time in the corner, watching people dance, as she sipped apple juice and tried to seem small despite the contradictory state of her physique.
She didn’t feel as though she should have even been there, matronly as she had become. But she had promised her father to continue living her life like normal, and so she would.
Her back was sore. Her skin pushed and prodded out, as the innards squirmed. Despite all the distraction of rubbing her throbbing mass, she couldn’t help noticing Scott’s eyes meeting hers several times throughout the night.
Finally, he asked her to dance. She was shocked, but agreed. He didn’t seem to mind the awkwardness of her girth as they moved slowly together. And the contact was just too much for her to handle—she hadn’t realized how deeply she was craving the warm contact of another’s body. Before Sam could even realize what she was doing, she was taking Scott’s hand and pulling him upstairs towards the bedrooms.
3.
She couldn’t believe how hot she was. She felt flustered and needy, her thighs quavering. Once in the bedroom, she turned back to Scott, and attempted a smile, which proved to be a sheepish one. She knew what she wanted. And to her amazement, Scott was entirely game.
Losing her virginity was a stunning experience. Every bit of contact left her shuddering. Every part of her body was just so sensitive, it just couldn’t have been normal. She had heard that her condition could cause the sufferer to be particularly receptive, but this was just extreme. Orgasm hit her so intensely, she was practically convulsing. Afterwards, she melted to putty and mourned every moment of every day prior that she hadn’t been happily riding Scott’s cock.
Strangely enough, there were side-effects, the most clear and immediate of them being a sudden surge in her milk production. She had to use her breast pumps every few hours just not to feel as though she would burst. Despite it, Sam found herself seeping milk into her clothes several times throughout the day. She frequently had to excuse herself during classes and waddle off as fast as her body could carry her to find a place to pump. Her four breasts and udder were rapidly growing, nipples hard and swollen, as they pushed against her stretching tops.
Her udder could barely fit into any of her attire anymore, often bulging up over her waistbands, or peeking out beneath her skirts, teats wiggling lazily. Sam continued to try to contain herself, but her body seemed determined to burst free at any opportunity.
All the hormones were maddening. She was relentlessly horny. She and Scott had started to date, and she found most of her classes spent squirming in her seat, thinking about all the things he would do to her the next chance they got. She would grow breathless and flushed, and her mounds would grow even more engorged, were that even possible. There was a throbbing heat within her loins that no amount of fondling could satisfy.
Her grades were suffering. She could hardly focus. It was a week after the party that Sam finally came clean to her mother. She told her mom how needy she was. And how desperately she desired help controlling herself.
Her mom was stunned at first, but encouraging. She offered various tips. Meditation. Toys, and self-stimulation. It helped, but to such a small degree, it almost wasn’t even worth the effort.
A few days later, Sam was cheering at an away game one evening, hoping that the spectacle of a football match would keep her sufficiently distracted.
It backfired.
She could do little more than stare at all the football players with their tight uniforms and flexing forms. She practically felt as though she was in heat as she was assaulted with the smell of sweat in the air, and could somehow feel the warmth of taut muscles and working bodies. She felt jittery, her juices seeping freely into her panties. She missed several moves of her routine, more unbalanced and ungainly than usual. The rest of the cheer squad chalked it up to her advanced condition, and gave her sweet, encouraging looks, which she could do little more than ignore. Her back ached, belly jutting back and forth with the exhausting maneuvers. She couldn’t believe how big she was getting. And she couldn’t believe Scott wasn’t inside her at that moment.
She could feel her milk escaping, beginning to moisten her uniform, and could hardly care. Her breasts bobbed and strained, udder bulging out beneath her tiny skirt. When she saw the football team coach switch Scott out with a substitute player, she nearly collapsed from excitement.
“Water,” she rasped, as she handed the cheer captain her pompoms and made her way behind the stands, giving Scott an intent look as she did. He, thankfully, followed.
As soon as Scott got behind the stands, she was all over him, hands grasping at his uniform, pulling him as close and tight as possible, where he squished against her mounds and wrapped around whatever he could reach of her. “So hot,” he murmured as he kissed her.
“Shut up,” she said, as she shoved down his pants, Scott hefting up her skirt in the meantime.
In only moments both were on the grass, tangled together, Sam wailing and Scott grunting with every time he slammed into her jiggling body. Were it not for the screams of the crowd, they would have surely been discovered.
4.
Sam went shopping.
She was tired of her ever-shrinking wardrobe, most of her tops turned to belly shirts by then. Her cheer uniform was the worst, belly bulging out, udder protruding beneath it. She had ordered the largest size made, but it was still several times too small for her.
Sam tried on different outfits, mostly dresses, as few pants could hope to accommodate her udder.
She tried on a white tank top and a high black spandex skirt that she rather liked, despite that the skirt either exposed her belly or her udder depending on how she adjusted it.
She squeezed and struggled her way into a zip-up sleeveless dress. It was skin tight, showing off every curve and crevice of her swollen body, yet it looked rather pretty, with its low neckline and dark coloring. Despite the sensation of being uncomfortably squished and compressed, it looked good enough as a club dress, relatively speaking.
Sam waddled her way out of the dressing room, flushed and huffing, and pleased with the find. “What do you think?” she said, smiling at Scott.
His eyes widened as he took in her form, a smile curling his lips, before it dropped for a moment. “It looks great, Sam. But…” His eyes trailed down, over her belly, then lower.
Sam looked down at herself, but could see nothing past the hugely swollen mass of her girth. She turned to a mirror, her face falling as she saw the problem.
As usual, her udder was bulging out beneath the hem of the short, tight dress.
“Mmmm,” she hummed in displeasure, ignoring Scott as she waddled back into the dressing room.
Her swollen abdomen heaved as she struggled her way into a new outfit, feeling breathless from every inconvenient maneuver it necessitated. This one was a strapless sweetheart dress, also short, though this time she pulled on a piece of oversized hosiery to support her udder. It hugged the mass snugly, bordering on uncomfortable.
When she came out of the stall, Scott marveled. “Gorgeous,” he breathed.
“Mmmmm,” Sam thanked him. Then she paused and tried again. “Mmm…mooo.” She reddened and frowned to herself. “Mmm, thanks,” she finally managed, before turning to the mirror.
She could feel her breasts aching, filling, swelling by the moment, as the neckline of the dress accordingly strained. Panting slightly, she did her best to contain it. She scrutinized her appearance, at the way her upper breasts bubbled heavily over the neckline, practically popping free. The lower pair was framed perfectly beneath it, bulging heavily against the stretching dress material, yet somehow making the attire look gorgeous and sexy rather than odd and misshapen against the unusual layout of her body.
After that, she tried on various tops and skirts, but the skirts barely contained her, and most of the tops were rendered belly shirts and tube tops—even the biggest ones she found. One pulled down as far as her navel, which was a minor victory, she supposed.
Scott wrapped his arms around her from behind—at least he attempted to. He settled his hands on her bloated flanks, her belly so massive it was wider than the rest of her, navel jabbing against the mirror as she repetitively forgot about the profound reach of her body. She cupped it with him, watching it rise and fall, giving a disgruntled, “mmoooo,” as her milk finally broke free, seeping into the top.
“Have you considered trying a maternity store?” said Scott delicately, running his fingers along her exposed flesh.
Sam fidgeted. “I’mmm not wearing any of those…mmm…shapeless dresses. I’d feel like I’mmm wearing a circus tent.”
Scott shrugged. She liked the feel of his body against hers, harder than she remembered, his package soft yet creating a noticeable bulge in the front of his jeans, pressing into her. Honestly, he had gotten massive lately. She shivered at the thought of him hard now.
He was also developing two knots atop his head, on either side. They felt stiff, and intrusive. Scott said bone spurs ran in his family. She didn’t know, but she tried not to worry about it too much.
Weary though she was, Sam tried on a body suit that was of a thin translucent material, and felt like a second skin. She wasn’t too sure about it until she saw the way Scott gawked at her, and added it to her top picks.
Finally, a cargo dress that she didn’t like it all. Anything that wasn’t tight just made her look unpleasantly amorphous. Scott cupped her breasts where the material hugged into her. He didn’t seem opposed to anything she put on.
“Moooo,” Sam attempted to further her point, before reddening and grimacing. What was happening to her speech?
“You’re adorable,” Scott sighed contently.
She sent him a glare, before shrugging to herself, and pulling him into the dressing room.
5.
Scott noticed, over time, and he was slowly, subtly, becoming stronger. He had never been one for weight training, but he was able to lift more than he ever had before. Even helping support Sam getting up and about was almost effortless for him, heavy as she was getting.
He had undergone an unusual growth spurt, and was getting taller, as well as bulkier. Even his dick had gotten thicker, longer, and he was pleasantly surprised by the transformation.
It was only as the growths on his head exacerbated, and pointed bones—no, horns—began to emerge from his hair, that he realized that something had gone wrong. He was changing.
It must have been a side-effect to his exposure to Sam. He was becoming almost bull-like in strength and temperament. It was harder to distract himself, his mind on one track at a time. It was frightening but also a little…comforting, to be able to complement his girlfriend by way of his own physiology. “Mmmm,” Scott hummed to himself as he regarded his body in the mirror. He scrutinized his broader shoulders, and the muscled expanse of his chest. “Mooo,” he noted. He didn’t know what he would say to Sam.
-
Sam thought her belly was the size of a beach ball. She strained beneath it, struggling as she waddled. Much as her fattening ass helped with balance, it wasn’t enough to stop her from wobbling awkwardly, huffing and breathless.
Her tits and udder felt pressurized that evening. She hoped that they wouldn’t leak. She felt as though she had only just milked them a short while ago.
Sam eased herself down on the large cushion of her ass, belly squashing her legs. She hissed as the pressure hit her udder. Her belly heaved with her breathlessness, and quavered with the pressure inside of it. Sam fidgeted and shifted continuously, trying to ease some of the pressure away from her swollen udder, but it was nearly impossible when she wasn’t standing up or lying down. She felt a build of pressure, her teats stiffening and her nipples aching. Her face flushing, she tried not to groan.
Sam was spending the night at her friend Tammy’s house, with two other friends. They had finished studying, and had decided to get into their pajamas.
Sam’s night dress was custom ordered. The neckline was low, showing off the plump expanse of cleavage of her upper breasts. The material was loose and silken, outlining her belly. It was short, covering her panties when she was standing, but at present, she could feel her udder bulging out in her seated position, the cool air drifting blissfully against the sweaty orb.
“I can’t believe Ted said that to her,” Jessica was telling Tammy.
“I know. He’s cute, but dumb. Though I don’t think Sarah minded.” They all chuckled.
“Hey,” said Jessica. “Has anyone noticed how hot Scott’s gotten lately? Has he started working out?”
“Careful Jess,” Penny piped in. “He’s been taken.” She gave a sly grin to Sam.
Sam was barely paying attention. She strained to smile.
“Oh, that’s right. How are things going with the two of you?” Tammy asked.
“Pretty well,” Sam offered acerbically.
“Must be so hard with your condition.” Penny gave her a commiserating look
“I’m doing okay.”
The conversation turned back to classes, and Sam was grateful that attention was shifted away from her. She was weary with the obligatory bouts of sympathy towards her. And she was admittedly distracted. She felt close to sprouting a leak. Her udder was tense, almost contracting in its tightness. It seemed it was time for another bathroom break.
Sam began to shift, trying to gradually maneuver herself on her feet, with the aid of the wall behind her. But as she did, she accidentally shoved her belly hard against her swollen udder. There was a short, sharp burning, as her teats sprayed milk outwards and directly into the faces of all her friends.
Sam gasped and leaned backwards, breathing heavily, chest heaving, her four nipples also beginning to leak as her udder oozed and spurted more gently, creating a small puddle on the floor.
Her friends had gone silent, everyone speechless. Tammy removed her glasses, her face dripping milk.
Cheeks burning, Sam attempted to apologize, but all that came out was, “Mmmmooooo!” Her whole face was hot. It looked as though she was mocking them, but she felt as though the joke was on her. “Moooo,” she said again, hoping to pacify. “Mmooooo…mmmmmm…moooooo…” It was controllable and mortifying. She was having more and more mooing episodes lately.
Her friends continued to stare at her in utter silence. To the side, Penny wiped a bit of milk from her cheek and licked it off her pointer finger.
6.
The slumber party was turning out to be a disaster.
Sam made several more efforts to apologize to her friends, but all that she managed was, “moooo.” It was as though language had slipped away from her. She just hoped they all understood the remorsefulness of her tone.
While Tammy was still astonished, Jessica seemed more amused about the events. Sam spent a good deal of the evening trying to thoroughly milk herself in the bathroom, but there was just so much output. She only had one pump, and had to repetitively figure out whether to prioritize her four breasts or her udder, all of which were dripping milk.
She resigned herself after an hour and returned to Tammy’s bedroom where she sunk down in a pile of soft, fluffy pillows and a growing puddle of her warm milk.
She awoke early, too early. It was still dim outside the windows. Sam opened her bleary eyes, taking in the small commotion around the room. She managed to roll herself to an upright position, and arduously crawled (belly dragging) towards the small clutter of her friends circled around something.
Sam peeked through the hedge of bodies, a “Mooo!” of shock escaping her throat.
Penny was curled on the carpet, her eyelashes looking longer, and eyes evidently larger and wider as she blinked up at them. Her nose had gotten flatter and wider, and had taken on a pinkish hue. And her previously-flat chest had swelled up with plump C-cups overnight. Nestled beneath them, the curve of her formerly-flat stomach was bulging prominently against her pajama top.
-
Sam went to see her doctor later that day, still wrought with guilt over Penny’s new, inconvenient developments. By the time of her appointment, she still hadn’t been able to utter a human word. Her one comfort was that Scott arrived to accompany her. When he “mooo”ed at her in greeting, she was startled, but also, somehow, she understood.
Dr. Richards was a genial man. He laughed of Sam’s failed attempt to communicate. “Let’s get you examined.”
He took her weight, measurements, did a sonogram, and finally, a pelvic examine. His concerned frown made her heart race.
“Samantha, I don’t want you to be concerned, but you are extremely overdue. You should have gone into labor weeks ago.”
Sam blinked up at him. “Moo,” she said in alarm.
Scott comfortingly rubbed her back. “Mmm,” he consoled.
“At this point, you don’t have many options in terms of triggering labor. I doubt medication will have any effect. The best method for women in your condition is penetrative sex.”
Sam rubbed her churning gut. She looked at Scott who looked at her. They nodded.
“Moo,” said Sam. She would give it a shot.
“And soon,” Richards ordered, as he and Scott helped her to stand, her belly jutting from her like a bolder.
“Mmmm,” she responded, a little embarrassed by the prescription. She couldn’t help worrying about her babies, and the awkwardness that sex would entail in her advanced state.
-
That evening, they gave it a tey.
It was true that Scott had changed substantially. He was stronger and broader, and his dick had grown by inches and thickened as well.
The sight of it made her shiver slightly. He helped her onto the bed, and she grunted beneath the weight of her huge mass pinning her down. He adjusted her, arranging pillows around her, but no position was perfect. Her nipples and teats were stiff and achy, and just the sight of Scott undressing made them squirt with her shuddering breaths.
Scott went slow and careful, but he gained vigor as things progressed. She hadn’t anticipated that it would be so—enjoyable, her skin tingling, stomach clenching, udder aching almost pleasantly as it was repetitively compressed by Scott’s thrusts, the mound bobbing between them, and milk splashing forward, making a mess.
She groaned as her belly heaved up and down, breasts wiggling, as she grimaced and struggled to prolong things, because Scott still hadn’t triggered labor, but he was already so, so deep.
The tension and pressure continued to cumulate until she couldn’t hold on any longer. Scott gave a rough thrust that left her humming a groan, body arching, heat pooling, and…liquid splashing on the mattress beneath them.
It took a while to come down, Sam gasping for breath, mooing appreciatively, as Scott sunk, gently, against her mound, stroking it idly.
“Mooo,” Scott told her. Her water had broken.
“Mmmm,” Sam acknowledged.
They gave each other a meaningful look, then Scott got up to call the doctor.
7.
Six months later, Sam was continually shocked by how much her life had changed from its original trajectory before she had come into her affliction.
Sam and Scott now lived together in a large house they had purchased with their combined savings. They had six children (three boys and three girls), and Sam spent her days juggling and nursing them as Scott went to work for his father’s company. He was always eager to help out when he came home in the evenings.
Sam struggled with the lactation. She had to pump her breasts almost constantly, and if she wasn’t, she was seeping into her shirts or squirting at the most inconvenient of times. Her breasts seemed to swell up each moment she was not pumping them of their milk surplus. They resembled four honeydews stacked on her chest, nipples bulging out, mounds bobbing. Sam was often overheated just from the warm milk straining to get out of her. And so she went about the day almost continually connected to the pump machine (when she wasn’t nursing).
She and Scott also had to deal with an increased sex drive. Often it was a struggle just to keep their hands off each other. They employed every form of protection imaginable, but it was still incredibly difficult trying not to fall pregnant again. They’d had some close calls already, and it almost seemed like a futile ambition.
Their vocabulary had devolved entirely to “mooo.” Other people could no longer understand them, but could, at least, understand their intention. It wasn’t as difficult as it had originally seemed. Sam was sometimes sort of happy to have the unique language just between them.
And Penny. Penny had been staying with them since graduation. The other girl was unable hide her changes from her parents for very long, not when they were bursting the forefront—literally. She had gotten huge and round just has rapidly as Sam had, and her parents had kicked her out, unable to come to terms with how their daughter had changed. Words like “freak,” had been used, or so Sam had heard, the night Penny had showed up on her doorstep tearful and inconsolable.
But it had been months, and Penny was doing a lot better. She had really taken to Sam and Scott’s children, and had slowly come to accept her condition. Over time she had progressively developed even more changes than Sam had. By then Penny was six months pregnant, though she looked much larger if they were comparing it to normal pregnancy standards. She had two cute cow ears protruding from her head, a cow nose, and even cow hind legs with hooves. Four large breasts wobbled on her chest, an udder bulged out in the groins of her skirts, and a swishing cow tail protruded out behind her.
Like Sam and Scott, her language was now limited to, “mooo,” though they all understood each other perfectly, English seeming almost archaic in the household.
Only recently, Penny had gotten a job at a unique strip club for people with her unique affliction. Sam would sometimes watch her get ready, sort of fascinated by the ritual as Penny went through the meticulous process of painting her nails, then her hooves bright colors that would shine in the shaded lighting of the club. She would ease her round, full, tender breasts into two different strapless push-up bras that were just as brightly colored as her hooves. Then she would squeeze her swollen body into absurdly skimpy dresses, yet it was all so gorgeous and refined at the same time. Sam marveled at Penny’s scarlet-colored lips, the glitter around her eyes, the way the stretched material of her short dress hugged her in all the right places, even to emphasize her plump backside and protruding belly button.
Sam was proud that Penny was getting back on her feet, and sort of living vicariously through the other girl, when Sam was at home, covered in squirming newborns, feeling rather matronly and dowdy.
But Sam was pleased with her life, and proud of her strange, new family. She wouldn’t have traded it for so-called normalcy.
