Slut TV
Back Down to Calving, Chapter Three
* * *12:00 p.m.
“I’m pretty sure I’m a cow,” Ms. Medley argued.
“You’re not a cow, Ms. Medley,” the doctor told her.
Ms. Medley ticked the reasons off on her finge-- hooves. “I give milk. I have big boobies. I don’t like to think about stuff, and I’m horn-y. Like a cow!”
She giggled. Milk poured down her chest, then splashed in a waterfall onto the floor.
The doctor looked down on the unfortunate teacher. Her tits had ballooned to ridiculous proportions, audibly sloshing and tending to ripple. Her nipples had grown stubby and thick. A breast pump was doing its best, but the teacher seemed to have an inexhaustible source of fluid. Soon she really would need a bovine-level attachment. A tub, nearby, was quickly filling up.
Every spare cubic inch of brain power was being rediverted towards the construction and maintenance of overwhelming mammary glands. The teacher was bathed in a constant, pleasureful, intelligence-sapping glow from the steady suck of the breast pump.
It was perhaps the worst allergy reaction the doctor had seen in years. Even sucked dry and detox’d, Ms. Medley would be a horny, giggling slut for the foreseeable future.
“Okay, okay,” the doctor conceded, “You’re a cow.”
Ms. Medley nodded, satisfied. “See? Moo!”
12:01 p.m.
Farah had completely enjoyed the medical examination up to a certain point.
First they had had her sit in a chair, legs spread according to medical specifications. Then watch, frigging herself silly, as Brianna and the Doctor demonstrated proper baby-making procedure.
“Correct and proper breeding,” Brianna had explained, “goes in the back end,” while the doctor had pumped away.
“Make sure to keep your ass in the air, so that the cum stays inside,” the nurse had informed her. “All day, if you can. Just stay there.”
It was so nice to get all these medical tips. Had she told them she wanted to be a doctor someday?
The nice doctor had showed her how to conduct a medical exam. He had started by kneading her tits, rubbing his hands over her nipples. “Feel free to moan,” he had told her. The nice doctor had explained that it was best to start with the titties, because that got the hands warm for the inevitable pussy examination.
That had been even MORE fun. A boy’s hand in her slit was peaches and cream! She had tried to pay attention to the parts he was touching, so she could remember them for medical school, but she had lost consciousness shortly after he had reached the “gee-spot.”
But when she had woken up, he had his cock out, and it was pointed right between her thighs. And something about that seemed… wrong… to Farah. Brianna hovered nearby, stroking the doctor’s penis, and smiling in a very comforting way.
“This is to test if you’re fertile,” the nice doctor explained, in his gentle, older voice. He had a big white beard, and wore a stethoscope.
“How… how does that work?” Farah squeaked.
“It’s quite simple,” the doctor assured her. “If I cum inside of you, and you get pregnant, you’re fertile.”
“What if I don’t get pregnant?”
The doctor stroked his beard. “You know, you’re the first person to ask me that,” he concluded.
Farah tried to force her legs together. It was extremely difficult. She had gotten used to having them gaping wide, to the alternating feel of a warm finger or cool air. But they finally managed to squish close. She swung her legs over the side of the examination table, and wavered.
“I’m… I need to find Kaycee,” she said, pulling her dress down. Didn’t she used to have some underwear? Didn’t good girls wear underwear?
“Of course, honey,” the nice doctor said, surprised and conciliatory. “Brianna? Go find her friend. Enjoy the rest of your time here, my dear.”
He watched her walk out, shaking and confused. Usually there was a resistance point at the idea of pregnancy. All very natural. He had simply misjudged the timing.
He glanced at his still-hard cock. Not that the diagnosis relieved his predicament.
“And come right back!” he said, after his nurse.
12:02 p.m.
Mark had kept a close eye on Bobby and Eric. The water produced, in boys, a certain sexual aggression and a rapid development of musculature. Usually the Volunteers waited for a pussy to present itself, but an unfortunate amount of exploration was possible, if there wasn’t any tail to go around.
The boys had developed rapidly. The scrawny nerds had picked up larger frames and a solid set of definition. Nothing to make a magazine cover, but decent bodies with enough muscle to lift and balance a 120-pound gyrating girl in mid-air for a half-hour. Which was the point, after all.
They had been successfully kept busy pounding nails into boards, and had gotten used to their incessant erections. Mark had regaled them with stories about sexual exploits and “how to handle women,” which they lapped up without question.
“That really works?” Eric said. His voice had dropped from its former boyish pitch, and was now downright harsh. His entire shirt was damp with sweat. He had probably drank and eaten his body weight.
“It’s all about confidence,” Mark told him. “All the girl wants to see is confidence.”
“Okay, but… “nice tits?” Just say that?”
“Look, a girl with nice tits is proud of them. She wants boys to notice. Look right at them, and tell her she has great boobs. What could be wrong with that?”
“Then you GRAB them?” Bobby interrupted. He had pulled his hair back, and wore a scowl. His t-shirt barely fit his new, enhanced body.
“Just a courtesy feel,” Mark explained. “Touch the undersides, maybe tweak a nipple. It’s your way to show that you think she’s fuckable. You don’t have to start mauling on them if you’re shy.”
“Make her feel special. Tell her she’s getting you hard. Put her hand on your dick. Compliment her ass. This is Girls 101, boys.”
“Give her flowers?” Bobby suggested, sarcastically.
“Huh?” Mark said, confused.
“Or chocolates?”
“What? Oh, you mean to rub on her boobs. That’s really more advanced level material,” Mark said. He leaned over the car seat. They were driving Ms. Medley’s car. Her passenger seat was still sticky with dried Ms. Medley. “The chocolate gets everywhere if you aren’t careful.”
“Say, I ever tell you two about how completely awesome it is when you don’t wear a rubber?” he said.
12:05 p.m.
Kaycee was, by now, pretty aware that she was acting and becoming a nubile fuck-slut.
She had just masturbated in a pregnant woman’s hospital room, fucking herself senseless with a rubber cock. Only to wake up some time later with a slight headache and a milky taste in her mouth. Her slit was still puffy and wet, if a little satiated, and she felt an urge to -- there was no better word -- mate.
It was so addictive -- the wild rushes of pleasure, the comforting haze of sex, the endless images of herself getting plugged pregnant. Everything seemed so right and natural -- what could be wrong about feeling this good? Why not put her hand back in her slit and enjoy herself?
She had managed to pull her shorts on and recompose herself by the time Farah and Brianna returned. The exotic girl wore a worried expression, and quickly walked over to stand in solidarity next to Kaycee.
Brianna surveyed the wet mess in the room. The floor was puddled with Kaycee’s sprayed fluids and Terri’s breast milk. For a nurse, she did a lot of janitorial work.
“We want to find Bobby and Eric,” Farah squeaked. “Right, Kaycee?”
That did seem like a good idea, Kaycee thought. They were boys, and boys always knew what to do. “Yeah, I mean… yeah,” Kaycee said. Her own voice sounded like a girly-girl’s, with a high register.
Brianna made a judgment call. She had planned a nice afternoon in the Men’s Wing of the hospital, straddling the girls on top of any number of appreciative men. But they looked adamant.
“Of course!” Brianna said, as if this was the most natural request in the world.
Both girls deflated. Was this a trick? It was so hard to think…
“We’ll meet up with them at the Diner,” Brianna said. “Come on, say goodbye to Terri, and we’ll go join them!”
“Just.. just us and them,” Farah said, questioning.
“You know it!”
“All--- alright then!” Kaycee said, standing up. She couldn’t shake a milky aftertaste between her lips.
“So long, girls,” Terri said, waving from the hospital bed. “Thanks for all your help. Hope to see you again soon!”
The heavily pregnant girl watched the three leave. She squeezed at the pink dildo, appropriated from Kaycee’s clit and repurposed to her own. Then she touched at an intercom on the wall.
“Reception? You said you had some Japanese exchange students waiting around? I’m free to have them brought in… as soon as you mop up a little.”
CALVING WELCOME COMMITTEE OFFICIAL MEMORANDUM
Boy-Girl Volunteer combinations will usually attempt rebellion. Stay calm! In almost all situations, the men are simply demonstrating their dominance. The females use the opportunity to submit to the direction of the males and show off their usefulness as receptacles.
With their new, sexual roles established, escape becomes, very quickly, a secondary priority.
12:41 p.m.
It hadn’t occurred to Kaycee or Farah to demand their old clothes back.
They had gotten used to the new ones, anyways. Both walked with the side-to-side sway of experienced, confident heel-wearers. Unnoticed, they had picked up an identical stride, letting their rear ends make synchronized figure-eights in the air. Farah had gotten used to the cool, comforting feel of fresh air on her uncovered slit, plus the slick, itchy wrap of vinyl on her chest. Kaycee’s thong was nearly inseparable from her pussy, and the short shorts seemed so normal.
After all, in the town of Calving, they fit right in.
It was a beautiful early afternoon. Calving’s downtown had a great deal of pedestrian traffic.
The men on the sidewalk could, perhaps, pass as normal in a city crowd. They wore flannel shirts and jeans with cowboy hats. Although, most could work as jean or Stetson models, and not a single man couldn’t pull off any number of one-handed pushups on demand.
But the girls were on display, flagrantly available and aware of it. It would’ve been less obscene if they went around topless, jetting squirts of milk every so often. Instead, there were black bustiers, leather tops with laces, wet tanktops, and tiny bikini tops placed around big melons. Not a single girl wore anything lower then mid-thigh, and all of them had heavy tans from days half-naked in the warm sun.
It was even a fairly diverse crowd, for the middle of nowhere. Two asian girls walked arm-in-arm, and if one wore a fetish kimono with a cheap-looking dragon print, the other was dressed in a country western jean skirt and boots. Both were, of course, slightly pregnant.
Except for the tan, Kaycee and Farah fit in nicely.
As a test, Brianna rubbed Farah’s backside. The girl barely reacted, merely pushing back a tad as Brianna rubbed at the fringe between smooth skin and plastic wrap.
The Diner was packed solid, with a line of patiently waiting men and women right outside the door, taking the opportunity to touch each other. Brianna steered the girls past the queue, up the steps, and right past the cheerful waitress in the tube top.
“Don’t we have to wait?” Kaycee asked, trying to separate the bizaare from the normal. She clutched at Farah’s hand tightly. They were in this together, after all.
“Oh, we have a special table for you Volunteers,” Brianna told them. She touched at Kaycee’s ass, and the brunette shied away. Not quite ready yet, then, although she hadn’t seemed to pick up on her tits swelling a good cup and a half.
The diner was done up in 50s kitsch, but played smooth, warm jazz that was very out of place. The girls on staff wore orange tube tops, and every single one carried a tray heavy with milkshakes in tall glasses.
The boys were waiting in a private booth. Very private -- in the far corner, with a high-backed wooden board that completely shielded them from view.
Kaycee sucked in her breath. Part of her was just glad to see familiar faces in Eric and Bobby. More of her was impressed by new, square jaws and burly arms. She slid in next to Bobby, and melted as soon as he smiled at her.
A moment later, she remembered to cross her legs.
CALVING WELCOME COMMITTEE OFFICIAL MEMORANDUM
Our Calving Milkshakes are world-famous, and rightfully so. Each one is packed with over three thousand calories, a laboratory of carefully crafted hormones, and filled to the brim with love, chemicals, and our own special milk!
A ‘maintenance’ dose of Chocolate is usually enough for most Volunteers. But if you really want to watch them grow, Strawberry is available by special order.
“Guys, I think we need… to…” Kaycee started to say.
There were two men there. Kaycee’s body made her extremely aware of them.
There were four male eyes on her, probing at her, examining her and her body. She stumbled to a halt, intimidated and second-guessing herself. How could she’ve been so stupid to just blurt things out? What if the men wanted to say something, but she was talking, so they couldn’t?
Farah tried to pick up the slack “We’ve decided…” she said, and clammed up just the same as soon as Eric checked out her cleavage.
Kaycee tried again, but it was newly impossible to speak up, when there were men around. They were so much stronger, so full of muscles and energy, ready to make decisions and tell her what to do. At a minimum, she felt like staying quiet, listening to what the men had to say, and then promptly agreeing to it.
Her erstwhile rival felt the same way, judging by the simpering look on her face and the way she kept her eyes downcast. Kaycee automatically let her legs uncross, and luxuriated in the passive, open feeling that came from making herself freely available. She arched her back, to give her expanding boobs better leverage, and watched Farah present tits for a similar inspection.
Beneath the conscious level, her brain marinated in the altered chemistry of Bobby, and to a lesser extent, Eric. It grabbed her conscious mind, soaked it in submission and intense need, and bathed her in a sense of her own passive girlhood.
Within a few minutes, both girls had lapsed into attentive silence, anxiously awaiting the attention of the boy they had randomly sat close to. And, almost at the same time, both girls’ lips curled up in a tentative, inviting smile.
“Here ya go, four milkshakes!” their waitress said. She dipped low, automatically, so that Eric and Bobby could admire her tits. When they didn’t respond with the usual Calving courtesy squeeze, she walked off, slightly miffed.
She had placed four, oozing milkshakes on the table. All were a light pink, crowned with a bursting red strawberry. The straws were pointed, invitingly, towards each of the foursome.
The boys and girls were busy admiring how fuckable the others had become. Eric was the most unabashed, trading stares between Farah’s swelled chest and her soft, smooth legs. Bobby tried and failed not to gaze on Kaycee’s tits, which had pushed out the relatively demure top, and now exhibited a perfectly straight cleavage line.
For their part, Kaycee and Farah kept sneaking glances at obvious erections. But the girls were more interested in the sharp, musky scent from each of the boys, the product of a day’s work. Kaycee inhaled Bobby, and her mind swirled with his signature smell.
“We’ve got to get the hell out of here,” Bobby said, leaning across the table.
They all stared at him. For a moment, they were once again just bright teenagers, just steeped in hormones and placed inside horny bodies.
“Ohmygod, you’re so right,” Kaycee said. She sounded like such a ditz next to such a big, confident man. “This is so crazy! I feel like my body does whatever it wants!”
“Your boobs are bigger,” Eric said, nodding.
Kaycee looked down. How had she not noticed before? They were wobbly and large, filling the top to overflowing, and made it hard even to see her lap.
Then she belatedly realized that a guy had complimented her chest.
She cast a smoky, sidelong look at Bobby. “Are they really bigger?” she said, turning to give him a better look.
Bobby tried not to stare. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he announced. “We’re going to act like everything’s normal, then we’re going to go outside, nice and easy, and get in Ms. Medley’s car and -- Farah, don’t drink that!”
The dark-haired girl had innocently wrapped her lips around the straw, and was sucking away at the strawberry milkshake. She took no notice of Bobby, and her eyes were cross-eyed, staring down into the milkshake.
“Eric, stop her!” Bobby ordered.
Eric gave him a look of “I don’t take orders from you.” He put his hand out to grab the glass, but, instead, put a hand on top of the closest available boob. Farah’s eyes slid over to the hand on her tit, and she slowly lowered the glass, drinking the entire way.
“Jesus, Eric, that’s not what I meant,” Bobby said, disgusted. “Don’t treat her like a toy. What’s wrong with you?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Eric said. Farah pulled up closer to him. He hadn’t removed his hand.
“Put your hands under your butt, or something,” Bobby instructed. “You’re acting like an animal.”
“She doesn’t seem to mind,” Eric retorted. “Maybe you should mind your own fucking business.”
The boys glared at each other. Eric nearly snarled.
Kaycee hated it when boys fought. It filled her with a sense of agony and confusion, like the world had shifted tilt. She had to distract them. She took a big sip of strawberry milkshake while she tried to think of a plan.
It was delicious, cold and creamy without overwhelming. The big strawberry on top hit her nose, and a small droplet of pink landed on top of her well-padded chest. Bobby swiveled his head her way.
“Oh, come on, Kaycee!” he said, despairing. “This stuff is drugged or something. Give it up.”
Kaycee wanted to just luxuriate in rich sweet taste, but he WAS a man, so… she reluctantly put it down on the table. Which didn’t stop her from scooping the wayward drop with her finger and sucking it clean. Bobby’s eyes tracked every move.
“I’m sorry,” she said, contritely. “It’s just really creamy.” She considered. “A little medicine-y,” she allowed.
Eric had kept up his tit massage. Farah’s eyes tracked his hand passively, with a slight, dazed smile on her lips. Her mouth was a little open.
“You’ve got nice tits, Farah,” the boy told her. Losing his boyish squeak hadn’t taken away his too-fast way of talking. But Farah blushed visibly and shuddered.
“Really?” she gushed, thrusting her hooters forward. Kaycee fought back a surge of jealousy. That was in the past. It was nice for Farah that she had good boobs.
Bobby tried to ignore the two, even as Farah’s breathing got wet, short, and hot. “Okay, we’ll leave in five seconds. Nothing to it. Move fast, but don’t run. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.”
No one moved.
“They’re great boobs,” Eric assured Farah. “You’ve got nice legs, too. Here, spread them apart a little for me. There you go. That’s perfect. Sexy as fuck.”
Farah obliged happily, parting her knees. Kaycee had a good view of her pussy, across the table, with her ass pressed back against the booth. She couldn’t help but feel left out. Couldn’t Bobby tell her how hot she was? Was she not showing enough tit? Was it those stupid, all-concealing shorts she had stupidly picked up?
“Eric, stop acting like a god-damned drugged sex fiend,” Bobby stormed, standing up. His knuckles were white on the table. He looked terribly frustrated. Kaycee shifted anxiously forwards, to give him a better view of her boobs. Maybe that would calm him down.
“Don’t fuck this up for me,” Eric hissed. Muscles bulged. Both girls were anxiously their drinking milkshakes, now, to calm down. “You see how hot she is, now? I’ve been a virgin for eighteen horrible years, and I’m getting cured of that right now.”
To prove his point, Eric took his hand off Farah’s boob and placed it, awkwardly, between her outstretched thighs. There was a moment of resistance, when Farah’s eyes popped open with shock. But Eric just pressed his finger on top of her clit, and it came out as a shocked whimper, instead. She curved her hips to let him inside, and babbled incoherently.
Bobby surged forward, chest puffed up.
“Oh, please, don’t fight,” Kaycee moaned, and put her hand on his chest. That felt good, so she let it slip down his body, until it somehow arrived at Bobby’s nice, tight jeans. There was a huge bulge there, big and obvious, and she put her hand on top of it.
That made Bobby sit down, right away.
Encouraged, Kaycee leaned over the top of the boy’s crotch, and luxuriated in a new round of boy-smells. Bobby tried to put his hands under his butt, but instead they unbuttoned his jeans, and let his cock come out of confinement.
It was so beautiful. Kaycee admired it, mouth open, just fascinated by how perfect it looked. Long, hard, insistent, with a bit of precum just starting to leak from the tip. Exactly how she had imagined it.
“Christ, I’m sorry, Kaycee. I really need this,” Bobby croaked, still red with rage. Then Kaycee felt his hand on her head, as he drove it towards the waiting cock below. She thought briefly about closing her mouth, but by then she was already halfway down the shaft, exploring the warm, wonderful sensation of a cock between her lips.
On the other side of the table, Farah was helpless before a whispered litany of whispered compliments. “Fuck, god damn, girl,” Eric said, right into her ear. She twitched and shuddered with each hot breath. “You’ve got the best butt, the best, um, pussy, the best everything. “ Eric searched for his next line. “Look how hard you’ve gotten me?”
Farah’s eyes rolled down to where Eric was stroking her with a gooey, sticky finger, then over to the painful-looking outline in his pants. “I’m doing that?” she said, impressed. “Wow.”
She shifted her eyes back up to his, then moved five fingers over to the bulge. Her hand wrapped around the underside, and stroked gently on the jean-covered hardon. “Tell me more about my titties,” she pleaded.
Meanwhile, Kaycee was learning a lot about blowjobs.
The mouth wasn’t made for blowjobs, that was the problem. She knew -- for certain -- that if he stuck her in the slit Kaycee could grip and squeeze the wonderful intruder until it spurted and spurted. But in her mouth, she had to keep her teeth out of the way, bath it in warm spit, and keep a steady, sucking rhythm.
Happily, she had two weapons. First, her tongue. Kaycee teased it slowly up and down the glans, and felt Bobby shudder. Second, she fucking loved it. There was so much of him in her mouth, she was pleasuring him so very much, and best of all, she could squeeze at her boobs at the same time. By squeezing her legs together and rubbing up and down she could even tone down the aching pressure of her clit up against her shorts.
“Christ, Kaycee, where did you learn…” Bobby gasped. He sounded shy, but he wasn’t tentative about forcing her head up and down. Kaycee loved that too.
“Tell me what you like about me,” Kaycee spit out, around a mouthful of cock.
“Oh, uh, ahhhhhh, you’ve got a great personality?” Bobby hazarded.
Kaycee slowed her rhythm, threatening.
“I mean, I love your ass, Kaycee. Christ!”
“Ohhhh, yes,” Kaycee said. She wriggled it in the air. Without relieving her vacuum-grip, Kaycee got her knees up underneath her on the weathered wood booth, so she wouldn’t have to twist her neck. That let her plunge her lips to the very base of his dick, where her nose burrowed in a warm forest of scratchy hairs. They had been trapping precum all day long, and it ended up smeared across her face.
“Shit, I’m coming, fuck, god-fucking damn you are a fine sexy woman!” Bobby gabbled. On the other end of the booth, Farah and Eric were mirror images of each other. Both had one hand on their milkshakes, sucking without breaks for air. The other hand was busy in the crotch of the other, either stroking a sticky slit or working rapidly up and down. They even started to buck and writhe at the same time. Eric spurted cum well onto the table, where it pooled into white ponds.
“Kaycee, I’m gonna cum, you shouldn’t swallow, what if…”
Kaycee was having none of it. The white fluid already coating her inner cheeks was sweet and delicious, and the promise of more was irresistible. She coaxed it up all along the underside of his cock, feeling it starting to pulse and swell, and then squirt deep into the inside of her throat. She swallowed, then swallowed again, as a backlog of seed built up inside of her mouth. Some ran outside, on the outside of her lips, drooling back onto his crotch.
Spent, the four of them slouched back. Both boys had come. Neither girl had, and Kaycee was shivering with the need for more, for the final, piercing feeling of boy inside of her.
Gradually, the four of them realized that the waitress stood by the table. They shifted positions, dripping from places, sticky in others, and disentangled their bodies.
The waitress looked, accusingly, at Bobby.
“You didn’t finish your milkshake!” she accused.
1:20 p.m.
Back at the hospital, Terri was managing the two exchange students into new, more interesting positions. They both had angelic, eager expressions, with short-cropped hair and short skirts. Terri had them writhing on the floor, faces between each other’s legs.
“Okay, now, Keiko, I’m going to drop you the dildo,” Terri instructed, moving around her own rotund body. “You’re going to grab it.”
Her eyes flicked up, and she smiled. “Mark! You done already? I met your Volunteers. They seemed nice.”
Mark stepped very carefully into the room. He had slipped before on the wet, dripping floor, and nearly wrecked his back. Plus there were the two writhing girls to consider. One was kicking weakly against the hospital bed.
“Brianna should be keeping an eye on them,” he assured her.
“Brianna is back here. The Doctor keeps trying to put a baby in her. She just finished nursing, after all.”
“Really?” Mark frowned.
“Uh-oh.”
CALVING WELCOME COMMITTEE OFFICIAL MEMORANDUM (TROUBLESHOOTING)
If you lose track of a Volunteer, do not panic! Follow these steps:
- Find the last place you left them
- Look for a trail. Often, Volunteers have dripped a path
- Always check bathrooms, under tables, and against all nearby walls
- Listen for screams
1:15 p.m.
This waitress had a nametag, with “Susan” written on it. Most of the girls in Calving had nametags, now that Kaycee thought about it.
“Susan?” Bobby said. He shifted, so that his cock was in full view. It was dripping and wet, half-erect, and the girl’s eyes tracked it. That didn’t stop her from putting out a new round of milkshakes.
“Yeah?” Susan chirped.
Bobby held up his undrunk milkshake. “What do these do?”
Susan twirled her hair. “Uh, they make girls all hot and horny and stuff, and give them big boobies, and make them super-ready to have lots of babies.”
“Got it. And to the men?” Bobby said, slowly.
“Big cocks!”
“Right. Thanks, Susan. We’re good here, for now,” Bobby said. He rubbed at his chin. The boy had already grown a heavy layer of dense stubble. He stared at the milkshake in front of him. “So, that explains that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Lets get going.”
“Really? I’m not going anywhere,” Eric said. They resumed their stare-off.
“Did you not hear the part about the conspiracy to turn us into breeding tools?”
“I heard the part about me getting to fuck all the girls I wanted. I’m already hard again. And the milkshakes are completely delicious,” Eric said.
Kaycee and Farah looked at each other. The dark-haired girl looked conflicted. Kaycee knew how she felt. Certainly she… intellectually at least… wanted to escape life as a big-boobed cow with a fat belly. Or at least, she was pretty sure she did. But the men hadn’t made their decision yet, so she would just have to wait for it. Both girls kept their legs open, in case Bobby and Eric wanted to finger them while they discussed the situation.
“You want to be a Dad? At 18? What happened to college?” Bobby said. Kaycee leaned closer to him. His cock was still oozing white, and he hadn’t bothered to pull up his pants.
“I think Farah would look cute with a big belly,” Eric said, shrugging. He rubbed at her vinyl-wrapped tummy, and Farah sighed loudly. Her hands came up to knead at her tits. She would look cute with a pregnant tummy, Kaycee realized.
Bobby was fully aroused again, as was Eric. Except Bobby had put his hands underneath his butt, and Eric had picked Farah up with newly-brawny arms. He shifted back, and positioned her pussy on top of his cock.
“Don’t do it!” Bobby thundered.
“I’ve wanted this for eighteen years,” Eric said, and slowly impaled the dark girl on his cock. Kaycee watched, entranced, as her pink inner folds ground up against the base of his shaft. Already there were pearls of white cum falling out. Farah stiffened, just for a moment, then started to relax. Her hands resumed stroking at her boobs. Soon they were joined, thigh to thigh.
Eric began to shove her up and down, all along the entire length, and Farah began to hump back.
“Christ,” Bobby said, his voice tight and desperate. He turned to her. Kaycee let her legs spread even more wide, in case he wanted to pick her up, too. “Kaycee, come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”
He helped her up, and Kaycee squeezed her pussy in anticipation. But instead, her man set her feet down on the floor, buttoned his jeans, and escorted her out of the den of tits and ass that was the Calving Diner.
Kaycee took one last look back, to say goodbye to Farah. But the other girl’s face was screwed up tight with concentration, as Eric spurted his first round of cum into her newly-shaven snatch.
She waved goodbye anyways.
1:30 p.m.
Mark investigated the shadowy side corner where they stuck half-finished Volunteers. There was plenty of movement, as well as four finished milkshakes.
Unfortunately, there were only two people. One of them was Eric, his pants around his ankles, his eyes wild and lust-fevered. He barely managed a nod at Mark.
The boy was thrusting, inelegantly and inexpertly, inside the girl he had bent over the table. Mark’s practiced eye criticized his technique. Long, smooth strokes alternating with short plugs never failed to bring Terri off. Eric was herky-jerky. Still, Farah seemed to be enjoying it. Her legs dangled off the side of the reinforced wood, a toned and smooth ass perked up in the diner air. Cum and lubricant ran freely down her legs. Despite the gravity of the situation, Mark’s own cock sprung up. There was always something special about the first rut of a new convert.
Eric started to spasm, dumping more cum inside of his new girl, and then collapsed, exhausted. Mark stepped back, and let them be.
He found Robert relaxing at a table outside, on the newly opened patio, along the long window that caught the sun. His wife, Deanna, was curled up alongside him, heavy tits resting in his lap. As usual, his sister-in-law was underneath the table, lapping diligently at either him or her.
“Robert, are you keeping an eye on our Volunteers?” Mark said, hands on hips. A waitress tried to hand him a milkshake. He ignored her.
“Wasn’t really,” Robert said. “I thought that was you or Brianna. Missing somebody?”
He got up, reluctantly, and buttoned his jeans. His sister-in-law smoothly moved over to Deanna’s lap, and stuck out her talented tongue.
“Two somebodies,” Mark said. “Come on. I’m sure they’re close. That Kaycee girl has about a gallon of milk in her, she won’t want to go anywhere.”
The two men walked around the side of the Diner, to the parking lot. Where there was a conspicuous absence.
“Mark, when you drove that teacher’s car here,” Robert said, in a low and level tone. “Did you leave the keys in the ignition?”
“Yeah, because I figured you’d want to… drive home…”
Mark trailed off, and they stared at the spot in the parking lot where Ms. Medley’s car should’ve been.
2:02 p.m.
“I can’t believe how lost we are,” Bobby said, in the driver’s seat. “We haven’t even hit an intersection for twenty minutes. I’m sure we’ve seen those cows before, too.” They trundled in the stolen car down a dusty road, well out in the middle of nowhere, Calving Country. Kaycee had counted any number of herds of cows. Some of them twice, when Bobby had turned around. Each time they had stared at the car with unimpressed eyes.
Her man had rolled down both windows, and the drug of his scent had worn off, just a bit. Enough for Kaycee to appreciate an essential fact: she had escaped, and she had managed to avoid having a boy cum inside of her. As Bobby kept repeating, like a mantra: not gonna get you pregnant.
“Kaycee, are you still horny?” he asked, from time to time.
“Yes, sir,” she said, in the passenger seat. Just in the past hour Kaycee had watched her already larger boobs expand to a heavier bust, and there were worrying beads of white moisture around the tips of her nipples. But she didn’t feel any need to bother Bobby with that. He had enough on his mind.
“Don’t call me sir,”
“I’m trying,” Kaycee said, sighing. She really was. It just kept slipping out.
“They’ll be waiting for us in town, so we can’t go there. I can’t believe I’m still out of cell range,” Bobby said, mostly to himself. He cast a worried look next to him. Kaycee wasn’t actually touching herself, but she still wore a spacey, distracted look. It took most of his willpower to keep from stopping the car and splitting her up the middle. He strongly doubted she would say no.
She was his, after all.
He was already starting to forget the old Kaycee, the stringy girl with manky brown hair and a perpetual facial war between pimples and freckles. That girl had been puffed up and inflated, then shaved and dressed, until she looked like an unusually intelligent blow-up doll.
He gritted his teeth. Even knowing he was drugged didn’t change an essential, animal need. He needed to claim her. To make her his. To lay his claim, plant his stake. To knock her up.
2:30 p.m.
“They haven’t gotten to the freeway,” Mark reported, to the Pastor. “We’re watching it, and the Highway Patrol has promised to keep an eye out. They’re probably out on some back road, well into the pastures.”
“That helps,” Pastor Flynn said. They sat in his office. Mark had installed Farah and Eric in the antechamber, and her occasional shrieks of pleasure were somewhat calming in a crisis situation.
“Another good thing,” Mark said. “is that that car probably had two gallons of gas, tops.”
2:47 p.m.
The motor sputtered and died. Bobby urged it forwards, thrusting his hips as if that would help.
“Fuck!” he said, disgusted. The boy slammed the steering wheel and sat back, stewing. Anger just made him that much more horny.
They were in the middle of nowhere, plus some bovines. There was a fence on either side of them, and the cows kept a curious eye on the couple.
Kaycee sagged. Even with her head a little more clear, she hated to see Bobby unhappy. A wave of eager submission washed over her whenever she thought of contradicting him. Like when he had turned right at an intersection, and she had seen a glimpse of paved road down the left. But he had already decided, so…
Bobby got out of the car, checked the trunk. When he came back, his face was grim and set. The mid-day sun was brilliant.
“No gas can,” he reported.
“Is there any water, sir?” Kaycee asked. “I’m really, really thirsty.”
“Yeah, there is, but it’s more of that drugged stuff. And a huge pack of those muffins. Mark must’ve switched them into this car…. But you don’t want those.”
Kaycee looked down at her body. It required a lot of water. She was still leaking lubricant like a broken faucet. And she was starting to feel like her boobs were getting heavy and full of something -- liquid.
“Okay,” she squeaked.
3:59 p.m.
“What.. d’ya think… Mom and Dad are gonna say?” Farah asked.
She had put her breeding lessons to good use. Her ass was cantilevered in the air, full of Eric’s cum, and she made sure it didn’t drip out by stuffing a few fingers in there. Eric periodically topped her off. His balls had gotten heavier and hairier. Mark had stowed them in a spare room in a big church. Even with just one chair, they had managed at least seven different positions, all of them amazing.
Farah had long resigned herself to imminent fertility. Thoughts of college just kept getting more and more slippery. She could feel her ambitions dropping away, each time she passively submitted to a round of fucking. At this point she was considering working at a Dairy Queen until she had to take to bed rest.
Eric wasn’t saying much. With each fuck he had become silent, except for periodic grunts. His cock seemed bigger each time he filled her with it. The only remnant of the old, excitable Eric was a too-small pair of glasses stretched across his face.
“Eh,” her man said, and returned to her slit.
4:17 p.m.
“We.. said.. just a… single bottle,” Bobby panted.
But the water was too good, too wonderfully replenishing. He had already downed two.
He couldn’t help but WANT the effect on Kaycee. Watching her chug a bottle, watching the liquid run down her throat, was more of an aphrodisiac then the drugs themselves.
“I need it!” Kaycee explained, hoarsely. She was on her fourth bottle. Her tits were sloshing now, obviously full of something.
Each swallow made her just that much more horny, made her that much more pliant and swollen. She was already a voluptuous nymph, with a sex drive held back with frayed nerves. Each drink seemed to go right to her buoyant, bosomy body.
“Yeah, but it’s gonna make you all horny and stupid, and I think it’s making your tits bigger, and… fuck it… are you hungry?”
Bobby made for the trunk, and the big pack of muffins. When he handed one on Kaycee, she swallowed it whole, stretching her mouth over it. He shuddered with need.
“Not gonna get you pregnant,” he kept saying, and it sounded hollow to him.
5:41 p.m.
Bobby had beat off twice, outside the car, to try and keep the need down. It might’ve helped him a little, but he came back in smelling of cum and sweat.
It was too hot inside the car, but even worse in the sun. So Kaycee sat in the passenger seat, mind assaulted by endless waves of arousal and need. Her body was baffled. All day long she had been emitting pheromones, turning fuckable, and putting on sexy clothes. And yet still she hadn’t been penetrated. What ever did it take?
“Okay, I’m ready to drain you again,” Bobby told her. She was stripped to the waist, since the top had become too tight and confining. Kaycee held up her jiggling chest, and gingerly walked over to the side of the truck. She put her hands on her knees and presented her tits to him.
Bobby put his hands on her teats. There was a fresh spurt of white milk, and it hit him right in the chest. Then he started to work back and forth, letting it spurt against the ground. The cows, nearby, were starting to moo.
“Not… gonna… get.. you… pregnant..” he thought, and didn’t even try to say it.
7:29 p.m.
“More milk, Senator?” Anne said. The big man with the red face had drained two glasses with dinner, and had quickly loosened his tie.
“Please!” the man gasped. He shifted his legs, to hide his erection. The man had heard about the wonderful service his fellow State Senators had experienced at the Calving Bed and Breakfast. And, acting on their whispered hints, he had brought along his lovely little secretary for some fact-finding. She had sunk four glasses and was slumped in the half-reclined position Anne recognized as “struggling with embarrassing arousal.”
“Let me just get a little more,” Anne said, holding up an empty jug. She stepped out into the dusk, where a hot wind was ushering in the night-time. The town had built a nice little guest house on the outskirts of the B&B property, and Anne stepped inside it. Only one room was occupied, just at the moment.
Ms. Medley was busy squeezing out a few more drops into a full jug. They had given her a bright yellow skirt, and a sort of loose top that made it easy to pull her boobs out. Anne picked up the full bottle and put the empty one down on the ground.
“You have everything you need, honey?” she asked, kindly. The room was furnished with a nice bed, which Ms. Medley had ignored in favor of sitting on the floor. “We’ll get you in the house tomorrow.”
“Don’t, moo, mind me, moo” Ms. Medley said. “Except..”
“Yes, dear?”
“Could you, moo, milk me yourself, later? Moo?”
Anne smiled. “Of course, dear.”
8:15 p.m.
Kaycee had gobs of white sperm pretty much everywhere on her. There were streaks in her hair, her face was a mess, and even her toes were sticky with dribbling remnants.
But NOT in her pussy. That was the last barrier, and she could steer clear.
She had sat Bobby on the back of the car, and rubbed him off with sticky, shaking fingers. His cock twitched in the moonlight, spitting white against her every so often. It was all over her shorts, which were sticky and wet. It was certainly on her chest, which practically had a target on it, from how much Bobby had shot onto her. He had great aim.
When her hand got tired, she would close on him with her mouth. She had learned a lot about sucking cock. Particularly how nutritious sperm could be, if you got enough of it. Although she was probably over her sodium limit.
They switched places from time to time, and Bobby would insert five fingers inside of her. He had even suggested going down on her, but that wasn’t appropriate for a man. Girls went down on men.
A shot hit her eye, and she flinched before catching herself.
But NOT in her pussy.
10:15 p.m.
“Oh, lord, where the heck are they?” Robert said. They had driven down a patchwork quilt of dusty roads, keeping an eye out for a small, crappy car on the side of the mud.
“The rest of the search team is done in the southland,” Mark said. They had barely spoken during the entire search. “They’ve got to be out here. They’ve just got to be.”
“What are we doing with their parents?”
“There’s been a flat tire. Even after we find them, they have to take the booster pills. Might have to be overnight.”
“Cripes.”
11:52 p.m.
They found the twosome just before midnight. The flashing hi-beams revealed, first, Ms. Medley’s dusty automobile, mud on the flaps and slightly tilted on a slope. Cows shied and ran away from the intense headlights.
Mark rolled the truck to a stop. He pulled out a flashlight, and the two slowly walked towards the silent vehicle.
A smooth, perfectly liquid female sigh sounded from the car.
Bobby detached himself, walked into the circle of the flashlight. The boy was drenched with fluid, his shirt dripping wet, but his jeans were pulled up and he looked back at them with a proud smile.
“I did it,” he told Mark, as the two men stopped the truck. “You wanted me to knock her up, but I didn’t cum in her pussy once. Hah! I did it!”
The two cautiously walked around the effusive boy. Mark ran a flashlight inside the car. It looked like a glue bomb had gone off. There was a puddle in each seat, and the dashboard was riddled with sperm and milk artillery fire.
Then he turned it around, and lit up the nymph on the back of the car in the glare of the flashlight. Kaycee was carefully perched on top of the trunk, chest heaving, smiling without a care. She was perfectly proportioned, a fertility goddess of modern science. Hair, as matted as it was, that billowed to her shoulders like an auburn cloud. Tits that sparkled in the light, placed like ornaments on a plush, forgiving body.
Mark followed her moves with a flashlight. The enthusiastic girl rubbed at her titanic boobs, accumulating a sticky residue of sperm in the process. Then she lowered her hand inside of her ripped and torn shorts, and resumed masturbation. Bringing a batch of Bobby’s seed along with her.
The ground was littered with water bottles and muffin wrappers.
Mark turned back to Bobby. “I did it,” Bobby repeated. “I didn’t put it in her.”
“Well, uh, congratulations?” Mark said.
CALVING WELCOME COMMITTEE OFFICIAL MEMORANDUM
At the end of the day, make sure to send our Volunteers out with a smile on their face, a bun in the oven, and six dozen packs of our Evangelism Packs. A followup call to the parents -- or even a home visit -- will help ensure happy acceptance of the new couples and their joyful news.
Our new initiates should always look back on Calving as a home, a place of happiness and cheer, and most of all, an ideal for a better world.
Because that’s what Calving is all about.
6:49 a.m.
“What the hell happened here?” Heather said.
She looked out on a jumble of boards and haphazardly-hammered nails. The twisted, nightmare structure looked like a group of the blind had gotten together without making previous plans.
Two men pulled out of a truck. Heather’s heart skipped a beat. They were perfect specimens. They walked up to the bedraggled collection of post-grads and put hands on their hips.
“Today we’re going to be tearing this structure down,” one boomed.
“But first, is anyone thirsty?”
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