Chad looked at the bulge in his borrowed undies. It looked off. He pulled the waistband forward and four penises flopped out. No not penises. He had an udder!
Chad looked around to make sure he was alone. He was terrified. Where was his manhood? He checked his jeans for his phone. It was there, but battery was dead. His udder sloshed when he walked. It was full. Maybe if he drained his udder, it would turn back into his manhood? He was tempted to milk himself right there, but he didn't feel safe alone in the fieldhouse right not.
He hurriedly dressed and headed home.
It was dark outside still when he got home. He wasn't sure if it was late at night, early in the morning, let alone what day it was. Carefully, he unlocked the door, and entered his house. It was totally quiet. He headed up to his room. Everything looked the way it had been when he left for school- was it yesterday or a year ago? He just didn't know. He turned on his computer. While it booted up, he plugged his phone in his charger.
He sat down at the computer, and was painfully reminded of his full udder. He ran downstairs, grabbed a couple of pitchers, went back to his room. Then with his jeans around his ankles, on all fours, Chad started to milk himself.
Squirter. Spurt. Splash.
The first few dollops of milk exploded out of the udder he gripped. Soon the pitcher under him was half full. Damn, milking was a great way to relieve stress. Better than sex.