Mooed Ring
Chapter 2B
“This is amazing!” Iris gushed, ing me on the floor to examine my changes up close. When she reached out and grabbed it, I suddenly noticed that I had a tail. It was fleshy and not much longer than her hand, leaving maybe an inch or two of it wiggling atop her fist. She stroked it a few times, almost like she was playing with a penis, and I mooed in dismay at her antics.
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Iris asked, with an expression that suggested curiosity more than concern. I was starting to feel nauseated, but I shook my head to answer her. The whole experience was frightening, horrifying, and unbelievable, but there at least wasn’t much discomfort in a purely physical sense.
“Great!” Iris said happily, stroking my hips as if measuring them to see how much they’d grown. “They told me that in about one percent of these cases the subjects experience moderate to severe pain. Something about their bones not morphing properly; I forget the details.”
My heart seemed to fall into my stomach at those words. I mooed with anger and betrayal, and more than a little disbelief. We’d been dating long enough that I felt sure I should have known if she was crazy. The idea that she had been expecting this was not something I was prepared to believe, much less that she might be responsible for it in some way. But with almost every word she uttered, my worldview cracked and skewed a little bit more.
“I see your udder is coming in nicely!” Iris chirped enthusiastically, reaching down to tug on the teats that were beginning to project from it like fingers. “I went back and forth about what breed you should be. There are a lot of options, after all, and they all have different merits! But I finally decided on a classic Holstein milker.” My lowing took on a desolate tone as I tried to express my despair and denial of what I heard.
Iris continued as if she didn’t understand me, or didn’t care what I felt, either of which seemed plausible at that point. “I can hardly wait to taste your milk! It might still be a few hours until you start producing, though.” She released my teats and stuck a finger in my sex, which made me moo in shock at the unexpected intrusion. To my shame, my pussy was drenched with fluid and provided no resistance to her invading digit.
“I’m glad I don’t have to get you bred in order to induce lactation,” Iris confided in a low voice, as if someone might overhear us. “Pregnancy is usually a prerequisite for making milk, you know, and I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of sharing you with a bull!” That was a small thing to be thankful for, I supposed, especially if the sociopath I used to call my girlfriend meant a literal bull. On the other hand, a real cow probably wouldn’t have the inclination or ability to betray me the way Iris was doing.
I was further dismayed to notice that my nose was starting to intrude on my field of vision. It was ordinarily a cute little button of a beak that I could only sort-of see if I crossed my eyes painfully. Now it was larger and wider and darker, and seemingly getting more of each at an almost-visible speed. I snorted in disgust, alarmed at how loudly it erupted from my new equipment. It even made my nose ring bounce, and I could tell it was somehow getting larger at about the same pace as my nostrils. I supposed that meant it was somehow responsible for my transformation, or at least a catalyst or something of that nature.
“Oh, now, don’t be that way, Tay!” my psychotic ex-girlfriend said, swatting me gently on the ass. “I still think you’re hot! Hotter, even!”
I snorted again. The fact that she was still fingering my pussy was, I guess, evidence that she was telling the truth, not that it made her any less crazy. Crazier, even, I thought grimly. My hips were rocking in time to her beat, though, despite an intellectual desire not to encourage her, so I figured I was probably going insane as well.
I wanted to ask her exactly how far this metamorphosis was going to go, but all my words came out as moos and grunts, just like before. Somehow or another, though, she seemed to understand my meaning. “Don’t worry, Tay!” Iris said with a smile. “You’re not going to become a literal cow. I mean, that wouldn’t be very sexy, would it? No, you’ll just be a plump, delicious hucow when it’s all said and done!”
I tried to moo, “That’s outrageous!” I don’t know if Iris understood or not, because all she did was giggle and continue playing with my pussy. My head ached, and I could feel my ears flicking back and forth, suggesting they’d turned cow-like, at least mostly. An unfamiliar weight pressing me down was probably from horns, I guessed. I didn’t really understand what the term she’d used was supposed to mean, but presumably it was a portmanteau of ‘human’ and ‘cow’, so I hoped that meant she wasn’t literally killing my identity.
Iris increased her tempo and added another finger, then another, making me reluctantly moo with pleasure as I thrust back against her. Before long she was literally fisting me, something that certainly wouldn’t have been possible before my transformation, or at least not without causing me significant amounts of pain and perhaps damage. In my current state, however, it was thrilling, a decadent indulgence and an experience I was forced to it was amazing. Even the unfamiliar sensations of my increasingly large breasts and udder slapping back and forth only served to make the unique situation more exhilarating. My orgasmic lowing bounced around the loft deafeningly, and I wondered if any of the people on other floors could hear me, and what they might think if they did.
“See, Tay?” Iris gloated. “Being a hucow is the perfect destiny for you! It’ll be the best sex you’ve ever had!”
I wasn’t prepared to it that, or concede my humanity on the basis of one climax, no matter how earth-shattering it might be. The whole scene had made me exceptionally weary, though, and I slumped to the floor, exhausted. It was too uncomfortable to lay face-down like I usually preferred, so I rolled onto my side and curled up in a fetal position.
Iris departed briefly and came back with a sheet which she draped over me, then crawled into my embrace, making herself the little spoon. I wanted to object, but my moo was weak and plaintive and easily ignored. If nothing else, her warmth was pleasant against my udder, which seemed to lose heat easily, at least in its formative stages. I drifted off to sleep with the subtle scent of her shampoo in my new and extra-sensitive nose.
I don’t know how long I slept, but it was still dark when I blinked awake. My first instinct was to believe everything had been a horrible nightmare, but I was on the kitchen floor cuddled with Iris, and there were too many unfamiliar scents and sensations to for. With great reluctance, I was forced to it my transformation had happened. And from the feelings down below, it had continued happening while I was napping.
I rolled away from Iris, leaving her alone under the sheet, and examined myself in the dim light. My udder looked huge on a frame that was still slender, although my hips were wider and my thighs thicker than before. Even in the dark I could see patches of discoloration on my legs, which proved to be a thin layer of fur when I touched it. I didn’t know if it was black with white patches, or white with black, but either way it was demoralizing. Feeling myself up confirmed that the fur covered my mound and my arms, but seemed to be mostly absent from the rest of my body for some reason, or at least the parts I could see or reach.
I carefully got to my feet, unaccustomed to all the new weights I bore, and tried to move quietly into my bathroom. Once inside and brightly lit, it was all I could do to contain a moan of despair. My face was still recognizably my own, at least mostly, but distorted by the large, dark nose, furry ears, and curving horns. When my mouth opened I could see larger, flatter teeth and a long tongue. Turning around, I saw that most of my back was lightly furred, as was my tail, with a very fine covering extending down over my ass, which was much more plump than before.
I sat shakily on the toilet, pulling my tail in front of me to examine it more closely, but soon lost interest in it thanks to the posture putting pressure on my udder. It was swollen and hot, a tight pink bag that I could tell was full of milk, just like my now-bulging breasts. My nipples, and my four new teats, were rigid and a dark coral-red color that looked angry. If so, I deemed that an appropriate shade to reflect my emotional state at what had been done to me.
The door opened quietly and Iris peeked in, beaming happily at the sight of my full transformation. At least, I hoped that it was complete, and that I wasn’t going to wind up with hooves or the like. “You’re so beautiful!” Iris breathed, seeming genuinely enthralled by my mutated form. I slowly shook my head in negation, sniffling wetly, not trusting my voice.
Entering the room, Iris cooed softly, stroking my hair for a few moments, which I found comforting despite my predicament, not to mention my outrage that she of all people would be trying to offer me solace. “There, there, Tay!” she said quietly. “I know it’s a bit of a shock, but it just takes some getting used to!” I laughed bitterly, or at least tried to; it came out sounding like a weirdly staccato moo.
“Maybe I can help ease the transition for you!” Iris announced, dropping to her knees in front of me. “I bet the pressure of your milk is very uncomfortable.” Casually, as if she did so every day, Iris took one of my teats in her mouth and began licking and sucking on it. It looked, and I imagine it felt, like she was giving it a blowjob. I mooed in shock and then with pleasure, overcome by the sensations, especially once my milk started flowing.
I don’t think I can truly convey just how it felt to have Iris drinking from me. The closest thing I’d ever experienced was relieving a full bladder, but that was typically complete in a matter of seconds, or a minute at most. My milk came out much more slowly and, I hate itting it, much more sensually as well. The feeling of gentle hands massaging the fleshy organ that contained the fluid was disturbingly intimate.
Trying to psychoanalyze myself is kind of a fraught exercise, and prone to all sorts of bias, I’m sure. Iris and I didn’t fight a lot, but like all couples we’d gotten into the occasional heated argument, and our make-up sex had always been some of my favorite love-play. In my case, such encounters tended to make my anger vanish. Having Iris give a series of loving blowjobs to my teats, and then my elongated nipples, was doing the same thing. By the time my milk had been reduced to tiny trickles I had completely forgiven my girlfriend, at least in the heat of the moment.
Iris giggled and stood up, running a hand over her visibly distended belly, presumably bloated with the volume of milk she’d consumed. “I hope I didn’t make myself sick from so much dairy!” she said with a smile, which I hesitantly returned for the first time since my change had started. “C’mon lover, let’s go back to bed. I’ll take care of your other needs,” she offered, holding out a hand to help me stand.
Once I had been coaxed back to the mattress, Iris directed me to get on all fours and proceeded to eat my pussy from behind. She was doing so quite noisily, perhaps to show that she wasn’t in the least turned off by all the fur and new body parts in the neighborhood, dangling and swaying or twitching and thrashing.
I kind of got the impression that things had shifted around downstairs, as if the presence of my udder had ‘pushed’ my vulva and asshole further away, making them easier to access in a quadrupedal position. On the other hand, it may have simply been a result of my posture, with my wider hips tilted down to compensate for the hanging weight of my milk organs. Whatever the case, the sensitivity of my pussy was still greater than before, and every little lick and nibble had me panting and mooing with lust.
Iris took her time, drawing out my pleasure, bringing me to one debilitating climax after another. She even made me cum by rimming my asshole, a kink I only rarely allowed myself to indulge in, since it made me feel kind of dirty, and which I had never worked up the nerve to actually ask for. As had been the case every other time we’d experimented with analingus, Iris simply started doing it and waited for an objection that never came.
I was reduced to a sodden mess, with my plump ass in the air and my bulging boobs crushed to the mattress beneath me. My udder protruded from between my legs, no doubt looking obscene, but in my cross-eyed post-coital stupor, there was nothing I could do about that. Iris seemed to love the view, however, and sat at the end of the bed smiling as I mooed feebly and twitched with aftershocks. She left for a little while, allowing me to doze.
The first dim blueness of the morning was visible around the edges of my windows when Iris covered me with a sheet again, gently tipping me over to be the big spoon of a cuddle. I was still too tired and well-fucked to object, although some of my negative feelings about the forced transformation were starting to percolate through my brain again. Feeling Iris wrapped in my arms and wiggling her butt against my udder, I wondered what the next day would bring. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, deciding to let things sort themselves out in their own time.