Your gut is round and bloated, it strains your shirt like an overfilled beachball. The stifled belch escapes through your nose. Ugh, through the upsetting stomach acid you taste cut grass and soapy lye, that was not milk. Sweat drips down your brow. Everything is unbearably hot.
Your stomach grumbles again. Squelching another gaseous erruption, another taste, you can almost pin it down, but don't have time to think on it. When did you pants get so tight, hell when did your cock get this hard? What did that bitch do to the milk?!
Even your chest feels swollen and tight, every breath, each heart beat seems to tug and stretch your shirt against you. Feverish everywhere, you can swear you feel your nipples chaffing against the taut fabric as it digs into your armpits.
Another belch, no, it can't be cum, it tastes too alien, the revolting creeping thought starts to dawn on you, no not human. The image of a bull chewing on grass. Then that mighty stud humping one cow, then another. and another...
The revalation interupted, you feel trapped by your clothes. Becoming all too sharper by an intense pain in your family jewels. Like the seat of your pants riding up on you. The intense sensation of your balls caught in a net, tight cordage seem to press in on them from every direction.
Suddenly there's a loud popping, something gives way. Glorious relief, you look to your...