Jar in hand, an image of Rakser flooded into Palsek’s mind. Warmth fluttered into her heart as she pictures him with his arms wrapped around her body. She could feel him behind her, his chin sitting between her horns, pressing down on his head. She could picture herself looking up into the light blue scales that ran along the bottom of his muzzle.
“It be ok Palseks,” came a shrill hiss, “Rakser keep you safe.”
Love flowed through her body. Love for the one being in this world who had treated her like a person. Love for the kobold that had fed her, held her, laid with her. It was a love that could break the bonds of slavery. And as electricity began to flow from the collar around her neck, Palsek’s realized that it was a love that could free her right now.
She closed her eyes, steeled her will, and send every last ounce of energy into the hand that was slowly raising Gregory’s flask of horrors to her mouth.
She felt a jolt of current zap through her body as her own willpower broke the collar’s clasp, causing it to pop off of her neck with a loud clang.
Her arm whipped towards the ground, letting go of the flask. The sound of glass shattering filled her ears, the vapors it contained expanding out into the room, washing over her tongue like a cool burst of fresh hay and cold milk.
Wait, Palseks thought to herself. Cool milk washing over her tongue? Shouldn’t she be smelling that with her nose?
Palseks opened her eyes to the sight of her hand holding the still intact flask just in front of her lips as she sucked a wispy white mist into her mouth. Her heart sank – whether it was a last mental barrier thrown up to protect her from the reality of what her unknowing friends were about to do to do, or a trick of the control collar, everything that Palseks had just experienced had been entirely in her mind.
She hadn’t managed to throw the vial away. Instead, her body had dutifully obeyed what may very well be its final set of orders and taken a faint whiff of the flask’s contents.
Palseks felt a tremendous pressure begin to form in the back of her throat. It kept building, and building, until she couldn’t restrain it anymore and her flung open with a loud burp:
“Mooooooooo…”
Palseks flung a hand against her lips to try to cover up the cow noises emanating from within. But instead of feeling the small, sharp claws that had previously adorned the tips of her fingers, she instead felt three, blunt hooves pressing into her rapidly thickening lips.
The changes were happening so fast that her mind couldn’t keep up with them. Millions of tiny spines grew out of scales, each dividing itself into more and more spines, growing thinner and softer each time, converting her previously luscious red scales into coarse black and white fur.
Her tail stretched and thinned, while a tassel of thick black hairs grew out of the end of it.
Fat piled onto her body, expanding into every last place that she could imagine – her calves, thighs, stomach, chest, arms… even her cheeks bulged outwards as thick sheets of fat grew in between her new, furry skin and weakening muscles.
She grew taller as she put on more weight. And the more she grew, the heavier her body felt. She could feel the muscles in her legs begin to strain under her own weight, and as her growth began to slow at 5 feet and 200 pounds, she felt the muscles just barely managing to hold. But then she felt a sloshing sensation just below her stomach.
She tried to look down, but couldn’t see past her stomach. Temporarily foiled in her quest to discover the source of the sloshing, she reached a hooved hand into the space between her stomach and her pussy, only to feel a strange set of dual sensations. In her hands, she could feel her hooves run across four hard protrusions, while in her crotch, she could feel a hard hoof pressing down against four sensitive spots.
Palseks could feel something growing under her hoof, and the more it grew, the more sensitive it got. It wasn’t long before it had pushed her hand back out to her stomach. And this time, the glance down saw exactly what it was: red.
A red, hairy sack of flesh was growing out of her crotch, with four thick, hard teats sticking out of the side. It was an udder. A cow’s udder. Her udder. But what was causing it to grow wasn’t new flesh, it was the thing that udders were known for – milk.
Her udder was in a state of hyperlactation, stretching itself with gallon after gallon of milk. And stretch it did. Palsek’s felt a tremendous pressure in her new appendage as warm milk pushed out against tender flesh, desperate to escape from one of the four teats that was currently locking it away, safely inside of her. Keeping it nice and fresh for her calf – a calf that this body had never had.
The image of page briefly flashed into her mind. At the top left was a picture of the fat, dumb anthro cow that was turning into. To the right of it was “Race: Minotaur Milkmaid”. And below that was a sentence that would have caused her heart to sink, were it not already being held up by the massive udder that continued to grow below her.
“Hyperlactation: the Minotaur Milkmaid’s udder generates enough milk each day to sustain a party of 4. The Minotaur Milkmaid has a speed of 0 unless recently milked, in which case she has a speed of 3 feet per round, decreasing by 1 foot every two rounds.”
Palsek’s legs gave out and she felt her body crash to the floor, producing a loud thump as her ass slammed into cold wood below her.
Her skull thickened and her thoughts began to slow. Meanwhile, she could feel her new udder pushing into her thighs, forcing her to sit with her legs spread wide to accommodate her bulk. As strange of a thought as it was, it was at least some comfort to her that her huge udder was blocking the party from being able to look at what was almost certainly a very bovine pussy sitting between her legs – she had just spent several years as a sex slave, after all, and the thought that they still might try to get some “value” out of her was still something that her simplified brain could understand.
But with her concern about being gangraped by her former friends mollified, a new concern took hold – the sloshing milk currently stretching her udder to limit.
She tried to reach down to her teats, only to find that, in her spread legged sitting position, her new bulk was preventing her from bending over enough to reach the far side of her udder. Not that it mattered, she realized as she looked at her new “fingers” – which were move hoof than anything else. While she had three of them, each digit had fused into a single, blunt mass. And the most she could manage with any of them was a slight wiggle. Even if she could reach her teats, there was no way she’s be able to grab onto them and milk herself.
“Mooooo!” gazed up at the party with desperate eyes, only to once again cry out, “moooo!”
She knew what she wanted to say to them, “Its me! Paul! Help!” But no matter how many times the words passed through her mind, they always seemed to run into a strange, bestial panic.
Her new udder was so full, so sensitive, so sore. It was overwhelming her, drowning out the sapient thoughts of the anthro side of her body, and replacing them with the base desire of a feral cow – the desire to be milked. And with that primitive, feral side of her body currently in control, none of thought were able to amount to anything more than a frightened, desperate mooing.
The party looked down at her, obviously indifferent to her struggles as, at the moment, none of their eyes were on her udder or her futile attempts to milk herself. Instead, they were centered on her neck.
“Where is the control collar?” asked Gregory.
“It just melded into her…” started Charlie, “maybe the essence duplicates everything about the Hag’s victim at the time they were drained.”
“Including clothing?” Gregory replied, “bah! To think I might ended up in a peasant’s body with a peasant’s clothes.”
“Do you think she’s still under the Prince’s control?” asked Geoffrey.
“Probably not,” Charlie answered, “though in her current condition she isn’t going anywhere.”
“Yes!” exclaimed Gregory, “that’s precisely why I gave her that one. Now we just wait to see if she turns back.”
Gregory brushed his cloak backwards in an ornate, royal gesture, “Geoffrey, come. You must attend to me in my chambers!”
Gregory marched out of the room, clearly unimpressed with the milky cowgirl he had created, with Geoffrey following close behind.
Hagerd looked over at Charlie and meekly said, “I should probably tell Fergus about his brother…”
“That’s fine,” he replied, “if you need to take care of something feel free to, I can watch her until… if she turns back.”
Hagerd spun around and left the room with a thinly veiled enthusiasm, clearly eager to tell his husband the good news. With everyone else gone, it was just Charlie and Palseks the cow left in the room.
“Mooo!” she continued to cry out as she motioned to the heavy udder that was currently burdening her body, “moooooo!!!”
Charlie walked over to her and bent down, placing a warm hand on top of Palseks’ sensitive flesh.
“I guess I can milk you girl. I get the feeling that Finn thinks you’re special somehow, so no reason to watch you suffer.”
Palseks felt his hand run along the top of her udder, then down the front, before gently fingers grasped one of her teats. She could feel Charlies fingers begin to move back and forth, slowly massaging the milk out of her. The feeling of liquid passing through her teats was sublime, and with each tug, the pressure in her udder grew less and less. She leaned back and closed her eyes, getting lost in the feelings of Charlie milking her, while the rhythmic sounds of her milk splattering on the floor became a strange sort of relaxing music.
The more Charlie milked, the calmer Palseks grew. She could feel the feral cow inside of her growing more and more content, satisfied in the temporary lessening of its milky burden. And then, for a single instant, she felt the cow vanish, leaving only her – only Palseks to be trapped inside of this new body.
Palseks opened her eyes and stared out across a bovine muzzle at Charlie, who was still tenderly massaging milk from her teats. Knowing that as soon as he stopped, the cow inside would take over again, while if she turned back into a kobold, the control collar would do the same, Palseks took her one and only chance.
“Charlie…” she said in a deep, lowing voice, “I’m Paul.”
Charlie’s fingers stopped and his eyes shot open.
“Paul?”