The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Second Changes

Maggie

By Charles Wallace

1...2...3... 4...

Maggie stopped to catch her breath during her morning-turned-afternoon exercise. Her lungs burnt, filled with gunk that she kept hacking up. Whatever Annie had brought to work, Maggie now had too. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

5...6...7...8...9

She stopped again, heaving. She told herself that the stretch was waking her up, giving her energy. Her body responded that no, it wasn’t, and demanded she get back in bed, safe under a blanket or two. Maggie pushed up into a plank position and counted.

1...2...3...

She collapsed onto her bounteous breasts, sending a painful jolt throughout her chest. Maggie groaned, then coughed up some more gunk as she rose. Her yoga pants groaned to remind her how fat her ass was getting; she self-consciously slipped them off.

Maggie spit her loogie into the bathroom sink, coughed up another, then rinsed out the sink and her mouth with some tap water. Her clothes went on the floor, and she went in the shower to enjoy the steam.

Afterwards, she felt a little better. The fog of congestion had subsided a bit, but now the apartment air felt even colder. She climbed into a pair of pink pajamas and the thickest sweater in her closet. The fabric was irritating, so she took it back off, pulled on a tank, then slid the sweater back over it all. Finally, she slipped on a pair of socks and her fuzziest slippers. Satisfactorily warm, Maggie proceeded to find lunch.

Bacon and scrambled eggs, so easy that a shitty cook like Maggie could make them. And so she did. Michael could certainly cook, having done so on their second date. Grilled chicken with a special spice rub and made from scratch mashed potatoes: the meal was so sexy she’d almost dropped to her knees as soon as she smelled the pepper. Instead, she kept her legs crossed, had a great dinner, then half-watched a movie as they made out. After he was good and worked up, she had a salty, cock-flavored dessert. Then, she left. Tonight, she hoped to stay over, but that was certainly up to Michael.

The food was gone quicker than it had come. Still hungry, she threw a couple more strips of bacon in the pan. In the already hot grease, they didn’t take long. She chewed on them as she made her way to her couch to relax. Meanwhile, Maggie found a playlist on her Apple TV and laid back. She silently asked herself what she was going to wear.

Maggie had busted out the big guns on the 1st date: a tight black shirt, a tight pair of jeans, and a daring pair of heels. It made the intended impression. When he politely and frequently moved his eyes back up from her balletic body, he found her pretty, freckled face and big blue eyes waiting for him. She’d smile to let him know it was okay; the embarrassed look he gave her was utterly adorable.

For the second date, going into his house, she’d worn something from school: a green blouse and a white sweater with a black, knee-length skirt. Still cute, but less inviting, for safety sake. She wanted to get laid, not raped. The schoolteacher outfit had even felt a little dirty. Naughty.

Need to get a pair of glasses to go with it. Tell him I’m gonna have to give him an F for...fucking...or something...

She laughed, then coughed. Maggie sat up to get a breath. She wanted to sleep, but sleep would just bring on the cold. A cold would fuck up her Saturday; it could even stop her from getting fucked. She needed caffeine. Maggie grabbed her keys and left.

* * *

When the car honked behind her, Maggie jumped, then pressed the accelerator hard. She shook her head again to wake up. Her whole body was starting to ache, the cold aggressively trying to subdue her; her concentration was in tatters. The coffee from Terri’s helped, but she was still losing the fight.

Hungry, she pulled into Wanda’s drive-thru, and ordered two steaming cups of chili, a Bacon Bacon Cheeseburger plus fries and a Dr. Pepper. She picked at the fries, unable to resist having just one more again and again. Some of her energy started to return; the grogginess subsided.

Maggie spotted a liquor store and pulled into its lot. She pulled her hair back into a sloppy pony tail, and pushed on a pair of sunglasses to cover her dilated, bloodshot eyes before getting out.

The only apparent employees were two guys stocking a shelf; they briefly broke off their conversation, then continued as Maggie scanned the aisle markers. She spotted the whiskey on the aisle beside them.

“Take 95 out a few miles, the road curves, there’s a hill shaped like two tits, with a tree right on top of each like a nipple, and one in between like a dick...I’ll have to show you,” one of them, an absolute, pimple-faced nerd, was saying. “It’s dark, and kinda scary, but no one can see you...” He noticed Maggie; his bespectacled eyes skimmed her body as he grinned. “How are you doing today?”

“Good,” she said. Maggie sniffled, for emphasis. “Just sick.”

“That sucks,” he said. “Guess you got the day off, huh?”

“Yup,” Maggie replied. She found a nice, big bottle of cheap stuff that she liked and headed for the front counter. Her geeky admirer followed her. Up close, she could see his name tag said “Eric”.

“Gotta check your ID,” he said as he pulled up the register. She handed it to him. His grinned then sheepishly tried, “You’re 29?”

“Yeah,” she said, nonchalantly getting her debit card ready as well.

“You don’t look 29,” Eric said, handing the license back to her as he took her card.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a teacher.” She pointed to her red nose. “Guess where I picked this up from?”

Eric chuckled. He finished the transaction, and Maggie took her bottle from him.

“Have a good day,” she said on her way out. She could feel them both still watching her.

The compliment was nice. In the car, she realized her nipples were apparent through her sweater, and laughed as she laid a hand across her chest to cover them up.

You’re welcome.

Maggie mused over the experience as she enjoyed the remainder of her food. She wondered if they’d be jacking it later to thoughts of her. In their fantasy, she’d walk back in, having forgotten something, then accidentally drop her wallet or her purse or whatever. Eric would probably have her bending over, giving him a big, stretched Kitty face. She knew she had a great ass, whether it was getting fat or not. If her mom was any indicator, it’d be nice for years to come.

So Maggie imagined him imagining her bent over, presenting. She’d give him a look over her hip, catching him looking. He’d be so busted. And then she’d smile, and start lowering her pants, giving him a glimpse of those perfect cheeks. Next thing she’d know, he’d be pushing into her slit or her asshole, whichever he preferred.

Maggie giggled at the inappropriate imagined imagining. Her amusement slowly melted into the troubling realization that she was sitting in her car, fantasizing about a guy masturbating...fucking her.

I really do need to get laid...

* * *

Her neighbor, Abbey, was leaving as Maggie arrived back at her apartment; her small boy followed closely behind. Maggie gave him a big smile and a wave, then grinned at her diminutive neighbor.

Or perhaps you’re just a tall freak, she told herself as she greeted Abbey.

“We’re heading off to Daddy’s for the evening,” Abbey said pleasantly. She smirked. “Then Momma’s going to figure out what she’s doing.”

“Have fun,” Maggie replied, with a final wave.

The playlist was still playing inside. She screwed the cap off the whiskey, then took a good swill. Fire filled her mouth, plunged down her throat, and smoldered out in her stomach. A pleasant warmth spread out through her body.

Playfully, Maggie tried to sing along with the song, but her usually melodic voice was rendered hoarse and uneven. She coughed roughly, then drank some more. Eventually, she started to buzz, and actually felt crazy enough to dance along. She gave up after a minute, heaving for breath.

Maggie found some pizza rolls in her freezer, then nursed her whiskey bottle as she waited for them to heat up. The alcohol just made her hungrier, but her head was feeling clearer than it had all day, even with the buzz. She devoured the rolls and washed them down with some more whiskey. Then, still hungry, she threw some more pizza rolls on the same plate and started them.

She set the bottle down to adjust her tits. The casual adjustment surpassed her; just touching them made her wince. She was about to lift her sweater to inspect further when more pizza rolls caught her attention. She ignored her boobs, and devoured the food.

Maggie had a snack cake as a dessert, then took her bottle back with her as she returned to the couch. As soon as she hit the cushion, she had a craving for another snack cake, but determined it was too late; she was already comfy. Instead, she filled herself with more liquor. After a few more swigs the bottle was a third gone.

Maggie couldn’t find the cap nearby, so she just sat the unfinished bottle on one of her end tables. She sat back, sighed, and enjoyed the buzz and easier breathing. She looked lazily over at a clock, and noted it was getting incredibly late.

The whimsical buzz brought up silly ideas, like wearing her kitty cat costume from two Halloweens ago or just wearing nothing at all. The latter seemed to cut through the bullshit.

Why not just get to it?, she inquired of no one.

Maggie scolded herself, telling her mischievous mind that there was something to like about Michael other than just his body. Like his...something...it was hard to think of right now.

The liquor had gone right in between her legs. Her pussy was already squishy. She teased her lips briefly, then went for her clit. It was too sensitive, so she moved her fingers a little off to the side. She found the sweet spot and sighed.

Michael lingered in her mind as she relished in the sweet sensation. The taste of him in her mouth. She imagined slipping under a table to pull that nice, hard cock of his out and try choking on it. Even better was the thought of flashing him while everybody else went about their business. Maybe somebody would notice, and she’d wink at them. They’d know she was a slut, she’d know she was a slut, Michael would know she was a slut.

Maggie stretched and contorted, moving here and there, her body aglow with warmth and energy; finally, she was able to get right at her clit. The first hint of orgasmic pleasure spread quickly through her body. Her muscles tightened, but she forced them to relax and kept going. Changing it up, she slurped up her fingers while her thumb pressed right above her clit. She melted, and fluid oozed over her fingers. Her sensitive tits ached and tingled; the delight kept building. She panted with effort. Finally, with a long, loud moan, Maggie came.

She closed her eyes, a small smile on her face, and slid a hand back up under her top to lazily trace a nipple. To her surprise, the flesh was wet. She pulled up her tops, and zoomed in on one of her puffy, thick nipples. Small, white spots speckled the otherwise pink flesh. She ran her finger and thumb along the length. The sensation was overwhelming, causing Maggie to gasp and shiver. Her attention immediately turned to the thin discharge on the tip of her finger and thumb. She frowned and cautiously sniffed her digits. It had a sweet and sour smell, not unpleasant but still disgusting. She wiped it on her pants.

Still a bit concerned, but not sure what more to do, Maggie pushed her two shirts back down. She didn’t know what to think...so she didn’t. Instead, she let herself relax and drift in her orgasmic, alcoholic buzz. Sleep slowly crept up on her...

But Maggie sat up, shaking her head vigorously. She wasn’t going to go to sleep. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she wasn’t going to do that; the cold would not win. Determination didn’t bring ideas though. She stood, looping through the same thoughts again and again, The world seemed a little wobbly, and her tits...Maggie decided she should take a look in her closet. She could get dressed.

Her closet wasn’t overflowing, but Maggie had some choices. She immediately eliminated the previous two dates’ ensembles. She pushed her “teacher clothes” aside as well. And a few t-shirts. That narrowed it down to a couple dresses, a few skirts, and just a couple tops that didn’t look absolutely trashy. She considered each remaining item carefully, working hard through her buzz.

Maggie undressed to her panties. She picked up a bra from the closet floor, secured the hooks across her stomach, before twisting the bra around and pulling it up around her breasts. She gasped at the sharp sensation in her breasts. They were always sensitive after she came, even more today. There was a hot tingle behind her nipples that was very hard to ignore. She snuck a quick squeeze.

She tried one halter-skirt combo, then checked herself in the bathroom mirror. It wasn’t too bad, but she thought she could do better. She grabbed her jeans to try instead. The shirt didn’t look right with them. She switched back to the skirt, trying to match it with a few more tops before she gave up. She stripped back to her underwear and reached for a silky purple and black dress.

It fit perfectly. Maggie pushed the bra straps off her shoulder, and hid them in the side of the dress. Her cleavage was small, but the dress ran smoothly over the curve of her breasts and hips without clinging too tightly. Her tummy didn’t stand out. It looked casual, but sexy. It was perfect.

Satisfied, Maggie returned to her closet, humming along to the song playing in the living room as she quickly decided which flats she wanted to wear. Maggie slipped the dress’s straps off, and pushed it down a bit. She contorted herself to unhook her bra, then tossed it aside.

Thick, yellow-white fluid dripped from her nipples. Maggie gasped at the sharp sensation, then grabbed a nipple to inspect it. Another small gush of the sweet smelling substance followed, which Maggie quickly wiped away. Just brushing her nipple made her entire breast turn into pins and needles. She dropped it, and balled her hands into fists as a building pressure behind her nipples released into a hot rapid gush over her stomach.

Maggie gagged and quickly grabbed the nearest t-shirt to wipe the mucous discharge away. Small trickles followed the sudden burst, which were caught by the shirt. In seconds, all discharge had ceased, leaving Maggie shivering and confused.

She walked rapidly to the living room and grabbed the whiskey, taking a long, hard drink. She watched her breasts as she waited for the alcohol to catch up with her. She hesitated to touch them further, then did. Her nipples remained erect and sensitive, but the leaking had apparently stopped.

Maggie slowly staggered back to her closet. The remnant of her discharge was three small wet spots on the carpet. She tossed the t-shirt over the mess, if only to dampen the offensive smell.

Even as toasted as she was, the disgusting ordeal made Maggie realize just how sick she felt. Weak and tired. Her arms and legs felt like they were trembling.

Michael is never off on weekends. You can get through this. Go to the doctor Monday.

Maggie stoically wrapped a strapless bra around her chest, and pulled her dress back on. She fixed it in the bathroom mirror once again. She looked okay, all things considered. The line under her eyes were standing out against her sickly complexion. Her lips were cracked.

She checked the time. It was still a bit early to do her makeup, so she just made sure her makeup bag was open and ready in the bathroom before she returned to the living room. Maggie put off another drink, deciding she needed to sober up a bit. Exhaustion gnawed at her, making her thoughts fuzzy and driving her to the couch. She stayed upright, resisting the urge to lay back, as she knew it would make her sleep. Resistance brought on a headache.

The music grew obnoxious, making her head pound harder, so Maggie switched it off before cradling her head in her hands. It was impossible to think, just sit and breathe. She slowly relaxed, resistance collapsing altogether.

Maggie stood and stumbled, moving almost by instinct into the bedroom. She flopped onto the bed, then made a weak attempt to crawl before her energy wained and she collapsed. Soon she was snoring and dreaming.

* * *

Nude and hot with passion, she lay in a grassy field, panting and calling for satisfaction. Michael and the kid from the liquor store were there, the only important faces in a crowd of blurs. She loved the way the blurs looked down upon her as her two dream lovers took her. Michael and the boy passed her back and forth, laughing and groaning, stuffing her in every hole. Soon, it was just hot, sticky cum pouring over her. She crawled in their cum, enjoying its stickiness passing over her.

Slave. Chattel. Property. Servant. Serf. Thrall. The words were warm and sticky as the cum. They crawled inside her and made her feel all good inside.

Her massive dream tits began to gush. Thick and white and sweet. Michael and her other lover were back, drinking. Their eyes were dark, black and brown pools staring up at her. Her orgasm neared.

* * *

And Maggie woke up all wet.

Her breath was already short; her muscles felt tight and sore; her crotch was a sticky mess, screaming for satisfaction. Maggie didn’t resist. She pushed her panties to the side and went to work on her clit. In moments she had pushed herself over the edge, and was rewarded with a soft, pleasant orgasm.

Maggie dully looked at her bedside clock, and realized she only had 30 minutes before Michael was supposed to pick her up. She slowly stood, then took a whiff of herself. Body odor overwhelmed her nostrils, followed by an unpleasant sour smell. Maggie followed the latter smell to her own chest. Her bra was wet, more than from her light sleep-sweat. Slightly pulling the cup from her tit flesh sent a hot, strong whiff up to her nose.

Michael, she remembered suddenly, letting the cup go as her arm dropped. Maggie imagined herself opening the door to find him in the hallway grinning. She leapt at him for a kiss, and let him swing her around.

Maggie trundled to her closet, then stripped, letting all the wet garments fall away. Her attention briefly dwelled on the white specks at the ends of her nipples, but she quickly forgot about them as she squeezed into different underwear. She decided to go ahead with a skirt-top combo she’d vetoed earlier. Even after a change, she still reeked, so Maggie bathed herself in body spray until she smelled like a stripper.

Next, Maggie was back in the bathroom, rinsing her face. To her delight, her skin looked much better than earlier. The dark lines around her eyes had faded, and even the small patches of acne scars along her jaw were barely noticeable. Her lips didn’t seem as dry and cracked. Maggie zoned in the smooth, creamy feeling of her skin as she ran her fingers over it. She shivered, and returned to the task at hand. She brushed on a little foundation and some mascara, then applied her lipstick. She was done; she looked perfect.

Maggie hummed her way back into the living room, then the kitchen, where she poured herself a small glass of whiskey on the rocks and had a couple cookies out of the cabinet. She was about to have some more when someone knocked on the front door. Maggie’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. She started for the door automatically, quickly checking her breath on the way. She could smell the alcohol, so she headed away from the door as Michael knocked again. She grabbed a mouthwash strip from her purse, then finally went to answer the door.

Maggie couldn’t help herself; she immediately leapt at Michael, nearly knocking him over with her hug. She took a big whiff of him then locked lips with him for a deep kiss. Michael grinned when she finally broke away.

“Hello to you too,” he said, looking her up and down. “You look wonderful.”

“Thank you,” she said, zoning again as she traced his chest muscles with her fingers. Hours upon hours of hard work had gone into them; she could almost feel the labor. After a long silence, she finally looked up at him. “Dinner. We should get going.”

Maggie reluctantly left him in the doorway, and scampered for her purse. She grabbed it, slipped into her flats, and made it back to the door as quickly as possible. Michael slid his arm around her as they left.

Maggie nearly came.

* * *

Michael could only claim to be a so-so bowler. Tonight, like many of the other patrons, he found his skill quite diminished. His date was too distracting.

She had taken his breath away when she first answered the door. Her tits bulged inside the small top she’d worn, and she had to keep pushing her skirt down over a healthy ass every time she sent the ball down the lane, with a little grunt to punctuate. Then, she’d turn, wipe the bangs from her big, wet, blue eyes, and give him a sexy, knowing look. She’d obviously planned to drive him crazy. By the fourth frame, every guy in the building had seen her tight black panties at least once; Michael got a dozen shows and a good long look at the delicate bulge of her vulva when she dipped a little low getting her ball. When she playfully, wickedly asked him why he wasn’t getting up to go, he’d say he was meditating, “getting his head in the game.” She’d giggle and grin, then watch attentively as he went.

He ordered a pitcher of beer to calm himself down. That didn’t help. Maggie had herself a mug of beer. His eyes lingered longer and longer on her body as she chugged, giving her the obvious satisfaction of turning him on. Some of her beer spilled between her breasts and Michael’s boner became unmanageable. Maggie leapt on her prey.

“Is my big, handsome guy getting too worked up?” she purred softly in his ear, furtively caressing his erection. He thought about ripping her in half with his cock; her bent over on the bed, his balls slapping against her as he pumped in and out of her ass; her on her back, covered in sweat, moaning, legs kicked up as he pressed down into her wetness. She kissed him gently on the neck, giving him a chill. “If you want, we can go back out to your car and I’ll suck the skin off your dick.”

Michael shivered, then grabbed her golden hair roughly to pull her in close for a long kiss. They devoured each other’s mouth. He pulled her by the hip even closer to him. She was burning up, breathing heavily. Her hands ran over him, bolder and bolder until she was outright groping his cock. He reluctantly stopped her, then looked around to make sure no one had seen. When he confirmed they hadn’t he gave her a grin.

“Not in here,” he said. Still, he couldn’t resist kissing her deeply again.

“Sorry...just really...horny tonight,” Maggie said between kisses. Her vigor slowly ceased until she was looking out at the wooden floor of the alley. Concern, lust, confusion, then apathy danced across her face. She looked up at him and slowly said, ““Like...” She trailed off, zoning while she stared at his jaw. She smiled and traced it with a finger. She remained detached as she continued, “I’ve definitely never been this horny. My panties, right now, are fucking soaked. If I stand up, I might dribble.” Her eyes focused as they moved up to meet his. She was raising an eyebrow. “That’s really weird, right?

Between the alcohol and making out, he wasn’t quite sure what she was asking. He hesitated, thinking desperately for an answer.

“No,” he said finally, leaning in and sucking on her neck. She yelped and held his head in place, writhing with pleasure. He whispered in her ear, “You want to get fucked.” She moaned softly. “By your man. You liked the taste of me, and now you want some more.” She pushed him away from her neck, and held him by the jaw as she gave him a hungry, desperate look.

“Get the check, bring that cock out to the car, and I’ll show you how hungry I am,” Maggie said quietly. She stood, collected her purse, then leaned over to give him another peck on the cheek. The tops of her heavy tits wobbled inches from his face. She whispered before raising back up, “I’ll be touching myself until you get there.”

Then, she was heading off towards the door, shaking her wide hips as she went. Michael carelessly tossed a $20 from his wallet on the table and headed out after her.

* * *

Outside, Maggie realized that she didn’t have a key to Michael’s car. She labored to figure out what to do. Her pussy was screaming for her to touch it; it was all she could think about. But she couldn’t while just standing in a bowling alley parking lot. The idea was alluring, but she couldn’t do it.

Suddenly, Michael was behind her. His strong hands grabbed her, spun her around, and pushed her against the trunk. His lips were on her neck, on her shoulder as he pulled her top to the side. His hands dug vigorously at her aching tit, into her hip. It hurt, but she didn’t have the will to tell him to stop. Instead, she grabbed his eager hand and pushed it up under her skirt. Her pussy made a wet sound as his finger slid inside her and slid roughly over her clit. She moaned into his ear, louder than she meant. He stopped, and looked around again. He took her hand, and kissed it hard.

“Get in the car, we need to get somewhere private. I need something wet wrapped around me,” he said. Maggie nodded, and floated into the passenger seat. She fought with his zipper as he pulled onto the road, then instinctually shoved his cock into her throat. Practice had removed her gag reflex. Guys loved it, and Michael was no different; he moaned and grunted above her. She drooled and slurped at his cock. “Keep going. You are a fucking blow job queen.”

Maggie moaned around his dick, then slid her lips up along the shaft before running the tip of her tongue around the tip of his cock. Pre-cum dribbled onto her tongue. She rose up, working his hand still with her left hand. With her right, she popped one of her tits free, and pushed it out so he could get a good look. She traced a swollen nipple as his eyes flicked between her and the road. She moaned again.

“You wanna suck on these titties? Get a big handful?” she asked, panting. It felt wonderful to pull on her nipple and imagine it disappearing in his mouth. She dropped her tit, grabbed his dick with her right hand, then nibbled on his neck. Savagely, she swooped back down to continue his blow job. Her right hand snuck up under her skirt. Everything was wet, even her ass. Touching her clit was so electric she almost screamed, but wound up choking on Michael for a moment. She lifted her head to cough.

“Your seat is soaked,” she gasped. “You might like that, or not, or whatever...” His dick cut her off. “Just pull over and fuck me already,” she said after the car jerked a couple times. “If you don’t pull over and fuck me, we’re gonna have an accident.”

“Where?” he asked. Maggie sat up, and took in their surroundings.

“Just keep driving,” she said. Her tongue stumbled over the words. Her head felt like it was floating over her shoulders, and her tits were tingling again, as if they were trying to distract her. “There’ll be a place.” She got it. “There is a place. Get on the freeway.”

* * *

It was a good spot. The freeway took them well out from town, heading off towards Austin. It eventually curved around a hill with a few token trees. Maggie, who had been toying with them both the entire way, excitedly pointed to it and he pulled over. There was a small, dark patch of dirt on the other side of the road where Michael was able to safely park the car. Without the headlights, the car was virtually invisible, and far enough off the road not to get swiped by a careless driver.

Maggie jerked his shirt upwards, and licked his muscles.

“You taste good,” she said. Then she took a whiff of him. “You smell good.” She looked at him. “You...look...good. I need you in my pussy. Bad. I want you to cum in me.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Uhhh...I don’t know,” she huffed, stripping. Her tits bounced free, heavy and soft. Wide, pink nipples capped each creamy mound of flesh. He scooped one up and sucked on it as she struggled with her pants, unable to easily slide them under her ass. Maggie screamed wildly and bucked. She kicked the pants off down her legs then off her feet, shoes gone now too. She pointed to him. “Pants...no pants. I’ll...” she tried to coherently instruct, miming what she was trying to say.

Michael understood. He pushed the seat back. She climbed up to throw a leg over. Her ass hit the wheel on the way down, causing a loud honk. She slurped him up with a playful giggle. Her eyes rolled back into her head as they started to move.

“Oh fuck yes!” she roared. A long moan followed. “Just go. Do whatever you need to, I’ll cum with you,” she said, looking into his eyes. They kissed and writhed. Every bit of him seemed to be getting soaked. Her thighs were coated with her arousal, and her chest was leaking all over him. “Fuck. Me. Fuck. Me. Cum. If you cum, I’ll cum. I’ll cum and suck it all up into my tummy, and I’ll...” She lost herself once more to the rhythm.

Michael kissed her up and down, eventually working his mouth around a nipple. He sucked. She loved it.

“Youuu like my big tits?”

“I love your big tits,” he groaned between breasts. Her other was just as suckable.

“Shooot. Cum youuu fucking magnificent...” She struggled for words again. Instead, she gave her best passionate “Uh’s” and “Ah’s” along with a good couple long “Oo’s”. He wasn’t able to last long.

He exploded into her, and she gushed over him as she caught onto his orgasm. They clawed at each other, bracing in the torrent of feeling. She laid against him as it subsided. The feeling of their chests pushing and panting together was fantastic.

“That was wonderful,” he said, panting. “Did...?” Maggie’s hips started to move again. She rose and braced herself on his chest.

“Just stay hard,” she said, staring intently in his eyes. Michael did as he was told.

* * *

The scent of sex permeated the car. Maggie’s mouth tasted like cum and beer, a peculiar combination. She had to pee.

Maggie pulled at the handle and pushed herself up from the car, then headed for the treeline. It was hard to walk. She wobbled as she squatted between two trees, but was able to find a comfortable position. As she finished her business, she realized that she was completely topless. She giggled, and laid a hand across her chest as she scampered back into the car. She flopped into her seat with a playful laugh, then yelped at the cold, wet feeling under her butt. The smell of her wafted up into her nose.

“Damn,” she said with a grin. There was a pleasant buzz in the air. Her stomach growled. Suddenly, she felt almost sick. Maggie rubbed her stomach and looked at Michael. She gave him her best pout. “I’m hungry.”

“You want to get some food?” Michael asked. Maggie nodded. He hungrily eyed her breasts. They felt especially full in his gaze. “If you put a top on, we can go in some place.”

Maggie considered the idea, then shook her head. Sitting here seemed like a much better idea. Or going home and curling up with Michael for a long nap.

“Let’s get something fast,” she said. “Drive-thru. We smell nasty.”

Michael kissed her, and squeezed a tit. It sent a fresh surge of pleasure through her. She tried to express it, but only spewed gibberish. Michael laughed, and she did too before shaking her head.

“I think you fucked me stupid,” she said, smiling lazily. It was a joke, but not far off. She could barely remember how they’d gotten out here. The alcohol was surely out of her system, so there wasn’t much explanation why she felt so...dull. Her tummy roared again, and she groaned.

“What do you want?” he asked. Maggie shrugged.

“Foood,” she replied. She drug a finger along the bottom of her nipple. It felt wonderful. She stopped, turned her attention away from playing with her tits, and shook her head. “You pick. I am fucked out of my mind.” She rubbed her itching eyes. “The cold probably isn’t helping. Getting that sleepy feeling, you know?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, I always feel like that when I get sick.” He scanned the darkness outside the car, obviously thinking. “Fast food...” he said quietly to himself. “There’s Jack-in-the-Crack. Mickey D’s.” He looked at the clock. “Justin’s isn’t closed yet. I could run in so you don’t...” His eyes moved over her again. “Smell unladylike,” he finished.

Maggie salivated. “Yes.” She almost moaned. “Burger. Extra large potato salad. A shake.” Even her tits tingled with anticipation. They felt positively hungry. She buckled her seat belt. Michael looked at her queerly. She didn’t understand.

“You want to put your shirt on?” he asked. Maggie looked down dumbly, then giggled at her folly.

“Guess so,” she said as she unbuckled and slipped her top on. It stretched tightly across her breasts; her nipples jutted out starkly. Maggie fidgeted, trying to get the shirt on properly. It just wouldn’t get there. Finally, she gave up and pushed her hand up under skirt to distract herself. Michael was eyeing her again.

“What?” she asked. “No one can see down there.”

* * *

They both dug as soon as Michael returned with the food. He was hungrier than he had realized; their vigor had apparently taken a bit of energy. They ate mostly in silence, occasionally sneaking smiles at each other.

Maggie glowed: so soft and feminine, hair just a little messy. He gently brushed it back into place with his fingers. She looked at him, smacking a bite of burger in a very unladylike fashion, then casually asked “Do you want to spend the night?”

“Sure,” he said automatically.

Maggie’s eyes lit up. She smiled, then stuffed the last third of her burger in her mouth. Immediately, she was forking potato salad into her mouth. She smacked and sighed, happy as could be.

“You were hungry,” Michael said, amused. Maggie nodded vigorously.

“The beer,” she said between ravenous bites. “Getting my appetite back.” She moaned. “It tastes so good.”

As Michael watched in amazement, she gulped down half her shake before returning to the potato salad. When it was gone, she quickly guzzled down the rest of the shake. Michael was still working on his fries, with only a couple bites of his burger gone. Maggie snagged a couple fries. She looked at his plate again, then seemed to relax. She laid back in her seat and rubbed her tummy.

“That feels a lot better,” she said. Her eyes slowly closed. “I could go for another burger though.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, amazed. Maggie nodded.

“Oh yeah, I am starving,” she said. She bit her lip. “Did I eat today?”

“Did you?” Michael asked, half serious. Maggie shrugged.

“I dunno.” She pushed her hand back up under her skirt and sighed, staring out the window into the meadow outside Justin’s. Michael just watched her as he finished his food. She kept going, breath speeding up as she worked, sweat building on her forehead. He hardened again.

Her eyes floated over to him, then dropped to his lap. A dreamy smile slowly spread across her face.

“I think I can make do with a snack.”

* * *

Michael jerked her skirt down once they were inside the doorway. Maggie heard the door slam as she wiggled her ass at him. He grabbed her, spun her around, and jerked her shirt up over her head as he grabbed her tit and pushed her further into the apartment. They fell onto the couch, Michael on top. She ground her pussy against his thigh as she grabbed his dick inside his pants. He quickly undid them as she massaged her tits for him, showing off how plump and ripe they were. They tingled pleasantly as she did.

Once his pants were off, Maggie didn’t hesitate to let him between her legs. Her legs wrapped around him, keeping him inside her. She absorbed his smell and taste, and focused on cumming. Thinking about his thick cum filling up her pussy did the trick.

She stopped Michael with a trembling arm, then wriggled out from under him. She shook her ass in the air, and reached between her legs to gently tease her still sensitive clit. Michael grabbed her ass roughly, making her squeal with delight. His strong hands guided her towards him. Maggie lifted her ass to help slip into her pussy again. They were immediately back to it.

“There’s...luuube...lube...” Maggie struggled with the words. She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying her thoughts amongst the all the pleasure. “In the bedroom. If you want to uuuse it.” She looked back at him and smiled. He was focused, sternly thrusting in and out. “You have to cum in my pussy again. I need it.” He pumped harder. His fingers clawed at her flesh. Maggie loved it. She faced forward again. Drool formed on her lips before she slowly said, “It...has...to...be...my...pussy.”

* * *

He flooded her pussy with cum, grabbing ahold of her hips and pulling her against him. Maggie moaned again, a long, loud “oo” sound. Her pussy slurped when Michael withdrew. Small bits of him clung to her pussy as she lifted her ass further into the air towards him, almost standing on her head. Michael flopped back onto the couch, exhausted. After a few moments, he felt something move between his thighs. He looked down to see Maggie’s grinning face inches from his cock. She took a mischievous lick, making him quiver.

“That’s sensitive,” he said. She didn’t seem to care. Maggie grabbed his cock firmly with a hand, pumped it as she ran her tongue along his cockhead, then pulled her wild hair back behind her ear and plunged her mouth down around him until he felt her throat grabbing ahold of it. He moaned. Still, it was too much. He pushed gently at her head, and she fell back onto her ass, pouting.

“Fine,” Maggie said. She slowly drug her hand across her stomach, then under both of her breasts. He thought she might have sighed. “That felt wonderful. I don’t know how you’re doing it, but you are hitting every spot.“

“Good,” Michael replied. He grinned and ran his hands through his hair. Maggie slid beside him, pressing her breasts hard into his side. She winced as she adjusted them.

“Sorry,” she said, finally finding a spot in his arm. “They’re tender tonight.” She cooed and nuzzled his chest hair. “Feel good against you though.”

Michael softly brushed her hair, nodding off. Her hand woke him up, dragging along the inside of his thigh. He took her hand and pulled it up to his chest. Finally, sleep came.

* * *

Maggie’s sleep was restless. No real dreams, just fragments. She woke within a few hours of falling asleep. Michael’s snores were part of the problem. She shuffled quietly into her bedroom to get away from it.

That left her with only the other part of her problem: her tits. They were aching and tingling like crazy. Maggie gently touched them, then shivered when two thick streams of sweet-smelling white fluid burst from her nipples. The tingle intensified, as did the flow, especially when she pressed a little harder, but the relief was amazing. Maggie put a hand against the wall to balance herself, let her tit hang heavily, then started squeezing.

It was orgasmic. White droplets splattered to the floor in a steady trickle; every squeeze brought a fat squirt. The fluid was thinner than before, and smelled much sweeter; a mucous film clung to her fingers. The smell grabbed ahold of her nostrils. Resisting a lick was surprisingly daunting.

When one tit was done, Maggie started the other. A small, white puddle formed near her feet, so she took a break to toss some discarded laundry beneath her to catch her production. She stifled her moans as to not disturb Michael, but as her arousal built, she let a couple slip.

Finally, the spurts stopped. Maggie slowly crawled into her bed and reached down to give herself yet another orgasm. She fled the cold under her blanket, and curled up to sleep.

In her dreams, she was in the field again, crying out for her mate. It was then that Maggie realized she sounded like a cow.

* * *

Michael was woken by Maggie’s grunts the next morning. She was sitting on her ass, weakly reaching towards her toes not too far from the couch, squeezed into a set of form fitting clothes two sizes too small for her.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Maggie looked at herself, confused, then at him vacantly.

“I’m not sure. I was...” she started before trailing off in a quiet whisper. “I usually do yoga right now. I was...oh!”

Maggie tried to lean forward, stretching her hands towards her feet again. She gasped and struggled, but didn’t get her fingers too far past her knees. Finally, she gave up, then looked back to Michael.

“I’m obviously super flexible,” she said, grinning. She sighed. Her eyes slowly became hungry as she gazed at him. Michael was nude, and sporting morning wood. She climbed to her feet, staring at his cock as if in a trance. He rose too, giving her some space beside him to sit. She reeked of exercise and arousal, but Michael couldn’t resist her pressing against him when she leaned over for a kiss. In fact, he loved her smell.

So much that he pushed her over, wrestled her tight pants down, and dug his face into her pussy. She was hot and wet already. It wasn’t until he was already drinking her that he noticed the dried cum still on her thighs. By that point he was too far into it to care if she hadn’t washed. She tasted wonderful.

Meanwhile, Maggie clawed at her tits through the top, writhed, and moaned, practically howling with delight. She set off in a fit of bovine moans as she started gushing over his tongue.

Michael wrestled atop her and slid in. Maggie shivered; they began to move with each other. She moaned some more, just as loud and animalistic. She tried to get out of her shirt, but her body wasn’t having it. Michael stopped thrusting for a moment to help.

Maggie slid out of the top like a butterfly exiting a cocoon. Even with a lust-fogged mind, it was hard for Michael not to notice how much thicker she looked. It was visible in her hips, thighs, even her tits...Michael ignored it and got back to fucking. He kissed her then grabbed one of her udders and pushed it into his mouth. Her long, meaty nipple pressed into his tongue, so he pushed back.

And was rewarded with an unexpected gush of warm, sweet dairy.

He recoiled, sliding out of Maggie and letting what he had sucked up dribble to the floor. Still, the sweet, electric flavor coated his tongue. He looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. Maggie looked scared, as if she had done something wrong. Small, white beads formed on her nipples, and the look slowly faded into emotionless vacancy.

“What is...” Michael started before the beads became small streams. “Are you pregnant?”

Maggie’s eyes lit up, and she smiled eagerly.

“I hope so,” she said, giving a weak chuckle. She squeezed a tit then, and sent a spurt onto him. “You came in me a lot of times last night. That’s what happens, right?” She was touching herself now and panting. “Make my belly all big and...”

“No!” Michael exclaimed, frustrated. It wasn’t that it wasn’t hot, just... “I’m talking about now. Are you literally carrying a baby inside you?”

“No,” Maggie said, laying back to enjoy her masturbation and milking. “I’m on the pill. I’m just hornyyyyyy.”

She mooed to punctuate. Michael was about to ask about that too, but there was a knock at the door. Maggie didn’t budge, even on the second knock.

“Do you want to get that?” Michael asked. Maggie stopped and looked at him, seemingly confused. The person at the door banged; Maggie’s head snapped towards it. She lazily wobbled to her feet and stumbled towards the door, then surprisingly flipped both of her locks and swung the door open.

There was a small, dark skinned woman at the door. Next to Maggie, she looked like a dwarf; he hadn’t realized what an amazon Maggie was. Her eyes quickly moved up and down Maggie’s body, growing wider as they reached the bottom and bounced back up; her mouth dropped open.

“Maggie?” she said.

“Hey, what’s up?” Maggie asked lazily. She leaned against the doorframe and pushed her ass towards Michael. He appreciated it. The other woman looked past the larger blonde at him, frowned, then turned her attention back to Maggie.

She stared at Maggie’s tits, then moved her eyes up to Maggie’s face as she tried to continue, “You’re making a lot of...uh...noise...so could you please...” She snuck a brief peak down. “Could you put some clothes on?”

“Sorry,” Maggie said, looking down at herself. She looked back at Michael, smiled, then turned back to the woman at the door. “Just having some fun with my buff boyfriend.” Maggie giggled, and looked at him again. “His name is Michael.

“Hi,” the unknown woman said, a little thrown off. She exchanged a wave with Michael. “I’m...uh...Abbey.”

Maggie nonchalantly pushed one of her big nipples to her mouth and sucked as Abbey watched, mouth agape. The blonde lifted her head after a moment and swallowed. Michael’s mouth watered; he could still taste the milk in his mouth. Maggie squeezed and sent a spurt at Abbey’s face. She giggled as her neighbor retreated from the door into the hallway.

“The fuck?!” Michael heard Abbey shout from in the hallway. Maggie watched her go, then literally mooed. She frowned and looked at Michael.

“Did I just moo?” she asked. Michael nodded. He was staring at her dribbling tit. Maggie followed his eyes, then grabbed her nipple and rolled it between her fingers. She shivered, and mooed again. Her eyes widened, and she quickly closed the door. Her nipples were leaking heavily as she lowered herself to the floor. She sighed as gravity pulled her leaking tits towards the ground. She mooed again as she looked up at Michael. She was chewing on a lip. “Is this weird?”

“It’s kinda sexy,” he said, reaching down to touch himself. He didn’t know why this was so hot, but it was. She quivered and gave a soft groan, then smiled.

“Yeah?” Drool dripped from her mouth. She mooed again. Her eyes were drifting off. “Hey, would you help me?” She waved at her udders. Her eyes were desperate.

“Of course,” he said, entranced. He helped her to her feet, then over to the couch. She flopped back, then pushed an udder into her mouth; Michael took the other, hungrily. Before he faded out of space and time, lost in her flavor, he pressed his fingers into her slit.

* * *

She felt like a pillow person: her heavy, sagging tits with their huge, elongated nipples; her growing paunch; especially her wide ass. She didn’t feel fat, just soft and silky. In fact, if there was a perfect way to feel, Maggie was there. Which was weird considering every other thought seemed to be about draining her full tits, getting Michael’s cum inside her, or eating.

I should be more distressed about that, right? Mental crickets answered.

Their breakfast went straight to her tits. They swelled and tingled, growing ripe with creamy production. When she let down into Michael’s mouth, she knew the flow had become her religion.

Moos became her language:

She needed milking. Moo.

She was horny. Moo.

She was hungry. Moo. Moo. Moo!

So it seemed she was a cow. Maggie pieced together that whatever part of her brain that did words was probably now fully cow, as was whatever sent the tingles into her slit. The thick, bovinity snuck into the rest of her brain unopposed; she didn’t have the energy to resist.

Michael left at some point, came back with food, then fucked her until he came. She licked his cock clean like it was a treat while she did herself. Afterwards, they feasted on the things he had brought back with him. So many easy to make, warm, tasty foods. Maggie tried not to zone while she ate, but she did anyway. Cows didn’t seem to think much.

After eating, they both rested on the couch. Michael was soon insisting she get him off again. He didn’t say much to her, just fucked, ate, or moved around. Lazily, she jerked him off, then stuffed the resulting cum into her pussy with her fingers automatically; cows did not waste cum. He lavished in the sensation briefly before he was on feet, moving again. She fell asleep to him doing push-ups.

When Maggie woke, she was leaking. She mooed instinctively to call Michael. He was near soon, sucking on a tit...udder; she supposed she should call them what they were. She mooed along, trying to express her pleasure. She embraced the lazy calm and simple urges as she marveled at the flow once more, at the sensation of producing.

Someone knocked at the front door. Michael had to get it. She felt too lazy to get up. Too soft.

It was Abbey. Sweating, shaking Abbey. In a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, perky nipples stiff and inviting, Abbey. Her eyes found Maggie right away. She strolled past Michael into the apartment, then headed straight for the cow. Instinctively, Maggie pushed her dribbling tits...udders up towards Abbey and mooed, offering her production to her neighbor. Abbey immediately latched her mouth on and started sucking.

Michael stood and stroked himself as he watched. Abbey pushed her firm ass up towards him and mashed her clit with her fingers through her panties. When Maggie dried up on that side, Abbey latched onto the other tit...udder hungrily.

Abbey lifted up, licked at her lips, enjoying the taste, then kissed Maggie. It was unexpected and soft, but sweet with milk. Maggie kissed back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael cum. Instinctively, Maggie pushed Abbey to the side. She mooed desperately, watching him shooting nowhere.

“Me...” she managed, English firing up for just a moment before disappearing back under Cowinese. She mooed and mooed. He didn’t listen; Maggie fumed with frustration. Abbey resumed her suckling. The calm swept back up into Maggie’s brain, and she relaxed.

Michael grabbed tiny by the hips and pulled her away from Maggie. The cow watched as her neighbor let him jerk her underpants down and push a couple cum-coated fingers into her pussy. As he started to kiss her neck, Abbey looked lustfully into Maggie’s eyes and smiled. She licked the small drop of milk from her lip.

“You taste so good,” Abbey said, impassioned and amazed. She moaned and panted, pushing Michael’s hand against her pussy. “You better pleasure that pussy. You hear me? Love it,” she growled aggressively into Michael’s ear. She moaned again, and softened. “Your hand feels so fucking good.”

It felt hot to watch Michael going at her neighbor; it felt hot to be sitting here naked and horny in front of them; it felt hot to plunge her four fingers into her slit and moo like the cow she was. Especially when Michael pinned Abbey over the coffee table and pushed himself down into her pussy. The woman’s face was contorted in pleasure. Michael’s hand slipped up her side, pushing t-shirt up. The few stretch marks along her tummy showed, her only imperfections. His hand grabbed ahold of her small, pointed breast, then pulled on a dark nipple. Abbey moaned in pleasure.

“Moo,” he said, roughly. He bellowed himself as his pace quickened. “Moo like a cow.”

Abbey complied, doing her best impression. It was terrible. Maggie mooed back, playfully mocking her neighbor.

“Keep going,” he grunted. Abbey playfully mooed, half-heartedly. She laughed too. Michael squeezed at her soft flesh. “No, do it like Maggie,” he panted. Maggie mooed eagerly. He smiled at her, causing her to cum with a small whimper. “Like that.”

Abbey nodded and tried again.

* * *

They wound up in a pile of flesh on the bedroom floor. Maggie dimly registered Abbey feeding on her again. More of her was flowing out her udder. Memories, wants, dreams floated away, seemingly lost forever as her thoughts became lazy and perfect. The cow didn’t just want control; it wanted her soul. She couldn’t help feeding it what it wanted, no more than she could pull her udder away from Abbey.

Slurp...slurp...slurp...slurp...

Gush...gush...gush...gush....

She did feel slight trepidation about it, some part of her brain giving alarm at such a sea change occurring. Any objection she could still raise flooded into the forefront of her mind, only to be swiftly smothered by her slow, dull brain. She forgot how to sing, how to dance, how to tie her shoes, what a friend was, her name...there were just the warm, lazy thrum of her body and the urges left. She was just sympathetic flesh.

The lustful cow left behind mooed, mooed, mooed, mooed.