With a lover, I’d overthink everything.
But I have no use for thoughts now. I just exist. There’s no right or wrong way for a cow to react to milking, only instinct and sensation.
Razul’s finger slides deeper.
He’s not trying to pleasure me. His precise movements are assessing depth and tissue health.
And somehow that makes it feel even better.
Fuck, it feels sogood.
I moan needily and squirm.
Razul’s other hand finds my breast, and I gasp with overwhelm. The flesh is so sensitive, so tender. My eyes can barely focus, and as I look down, I see my chest has already swollen several sizes.
Under Razul’s palpitation, I become aware of just how heavy and full my breasts feel.
His finger brushes over my erect nipple, and electric pleasure zings from the point, rippling down my spine.
Female animals cry out loudly in heat, and I’m no different, wailing and mewing and gasping at the overwhelming sensations in my breasts as Razul massages them.
Stimulating milk production, I’m sure. I writhe and squirm, rubbing my thighs together, chasing stimulation. Fuck, I want something in my cunt again… I want tobreed…
I can’t tell if these thoughts are from the venom or from my own heart, but I don’t care.
My cries get louder and needier, calling out for a mate. It doesn’t matter if Razul provides one or not.
I just want. I just need. I can want and need without fear that it will be taken as a sign that I don’t belong, a sign that I need to be sent away again.
That heavy ache in my chest intensifies in waves as my breasts swell more and more. The bindings around my arms and calves tighten as the rest of my body swells too, gaining softness.
Then Razul’s finger slides into my cunt again, and I lose my capacity for thought completely.
RAZUL
I fight to keep my breath and movements steady. Sylvus made it clear, in no uncertain terms, just how much she’ll hurt if I make a mistake.
Fuck, she’s incredible.
Yet so small, so fragile. Her hips have softened and widened, and her breasts now each fill my hand, but she’s still underweight for a hucow. That means the ICSS was neglecting their husbandry; her body wasn’t getting the nutrition it needs.
She’ll need feeding. Nurturing. I’ll systematically address every issue affecting her appetite.
For now, the transformation is the most important. It will already tax her underfed systems, so she can’t afford any missteps.
It doesn’t matter how my abdomen throbs. I suspected she might have this effect on me when that possessive violence rose hot and fast. Something to figure out later.
I stimulate her breasts, accelerating milk production. The faster the transformation completes, the less stress she’ll endure overall. I add vaginal and clitoral stimulation to soothe her and help her tolerate the overwhelm. The internal anterior fornix and internal clitoral erogenous zones are exactly where Sylvus suggested.
The way she moans and cries, loud and shameless, head thrown back and trembling…
Fuck,she’s perfect.
Her breasts swell under my touch, going taut. Almost there.
She lets out an especially loud cry, muscles clenching around my finger.
I immediately stop all stimulation, stilling the fingers inside her.
