FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Tess stared at the cows, letting relaxation fill her mind. Well, she tried to do that, leaning back on the bench overlooking the pasture. She had been so incredibly stressed as of late. This had been her go-to cure for anxiety and everything else; the cows never suffered like she did. A cow was happy to be outside, it was happy to be eating, it was happy to be pregnant, it was happy to be milked. Happy, or at least content, without a worry in the world weighing down on the mind behind those blank bovine eyes.

In a way, Tess was jealous of cows. But then again, they had to stand outside in the rain, and she didn't. Right now, in the distance, massive autumnal rainclouds were slowly rolling in over the harvested fields. Fall was coming, no doubt about that, and the cows would have to go back inside after it got too cold. Until then they'd be wet. Then again, did they care? They looked just as happy wet as they did dry.

Tess sighed. Maybe she'd pushed too hard. Maybe she should've taken a sabbatical after high school, or after college. Maybe she should've focused a little less on her career. This was a supremely rare kind of day for her, allowing her to even take a moment to just visit the cows and relax, and it was because of her boss having a heart attack. Stress-induced, they said. Just the idea made Tess's heart beat faster and sweat pearl up on her forehead.

It was great to know that being too successful at her job would probably lead to her death. Should've just been born a cow, she thought. Really, all in all, Mrs. Moo over there probably has a more successful career than you. She has had like five calves. You've had zero, and you don't even produce milk.

Tess shook her head and stood up. The rain was starting to trickle down and the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. She had some more plans for today, though, even if it didn't involve staring at the cows. A new thrift store had opened near where she lived. Indispensable Stuff, it was named, which was a little odd, but Tess loved thrifting. She unfolded her umbrella and left the cows behind; blessed as they might be, she had her own stressful life to worry about, no matter how badly she sometimes wished she didn't.

Indispensable Stuff was a rustic little hole in the wall, one of those street-level shops that had been exactly where it was for centuries. Oh, owners and products had changed many times over the years – Stuff was just the newest occupant – but the locale was vintage. The wooden floors were probably from the Victorian era, if Tess had to guess, with actual grooves worn into them by the soles of countless visitors.

The owner of the shop was a mild-mannered old man, with a grey beard that almost reminded her of a wizard's, only well-kempt and groomed. He offered her a smile as she stepped into the warmth from the pouring rain outside.

“Let me know if you need any help," he spoke, sound like how an old tree might creak in the wind. God, he must be like eighty. Props to him, I guess, Tess thought.

Either way, she was quickly off browsing everything the store had to offer, from old books – she didn't recognize many – to silverware. Everything in the store felt a little off, but that, she figured, was down to the generational difference. The fork's prongs were just a little too long. The book's title was uneven. The painting, she wasn't sure if it depicted the sky or the ocean, and looking at it was almost disorienting.

Finally, Tess arrived at her favorite part of any thrift store trip; the jewelry. Nowadays, all of that stuff was mass-produced, but with stuff a century or two old, you had a chance of finding really bespoke items. Like that ring that looked like a snake coiling around her finger, with tiny little emerald eyes. Or ooh, those earrings that looked like raindrops. What really caught Tess's eye, though, was an unassuming little necklace that looked like a cowbell on a delicate gold chain.

The owner noticed her staring at it and came over.

“It's a good reminder that we've all gotta slow down, sooner or later," he said, in that reassuring old-man voice. “See, you move too fast, and the bell's gonna ring, isn't it? So it's sure to let you relax a little."

“I suppose," Tess said. She mostly liked the association with cows, but the bell was delicately engraved, and beautifully cast in what looked like gold. “How much is it?"

“Mm. It's from the Romantic era. Back when everyone wanted their pastoral romances. Pretty valuable," he said, but then looked up at Tess's eyes. She had a good job, but right now, most of her money went into her mortgage. This wasn't a cheap place to live, and Tess already knew she wouldn't be able to afford whatever the old man asked.

“Tell you what," he said with a mischievous glint that Tess didn't quite notice. “You can have it for free. I'm old, I don't really need the money these days…"

“Really?" Tess asked.

“Really. It's enough for me to see you happy," he smiled.

Well, that was a twist. Nobody in this city did nice things for total strangers. Except this one guy, apparently. She almost squealed happily, instantly fastening the little pendant around her neck, and hugging the shop's proprietor to thank him. She reassured him that she'd tell all of her friends and coworkers about the store too, but he repeated that seeing her happy was all the reward that he needed – and that she should indeed take it easy, like those cows she loved.

Tess had made it all the way home before she suddenly realized that the store owner had mentioned her “loving cows" even though he'd never seen her before. Oh well, she rationalized. Probably easy enough to guess, with how excited she was over a simple cowbell. Still, the pendant felt solid and nice around her neck, nestling in just at her cleavage, and she already knew she'd definitely be bringing it to work. Not that there was any work yet; they were apparently trying to get a replacement for her boss from a subsidiary of her company, and it'd take a few days for him to get here and then up to speed.

In other words, Tess had, for the first time in probably ten years, a few guilt-free vacation days to just goddamn relax. She merrily curled up in bed with a cup of tea and a book, letting the stress slowly leave her body, and that – along with a walk or two – was all she planned on doing for the entire week, until work started again.

Suddenly, between sips of honeyed and milk-blended tea, Tess noticed that her breasts were feeling a little sore. Not much, just enough that she wanted to squeeze them, maybe massage them in the same way one would massage an aching muscle to make the pain go away. Is it really gonna be puberty time again, she sighed to herself, but then again, she was cozy and already in bed. Maybe it was exactly the right time to rub herself a little. It was just that every time they got sore in the past – gosh, the last time must've been almost ten years ago – a growth spurt followed, and it'd left her plenty big enough for her own tastes. Generous handfuls, so to speak, which no partner had ever complained about.

Tess set her cup of tea aside and touched one of her breasts. The sensation sent shivers down her spine. Maybe it was a hormone thing. She felt extremely sensitive, to the point she could barely keep from trembling as she rubbed and kneaded more deeply, really digging her fingers into her breasts. She found herself moaning. Oh, maybe it wasn't all that bad. It felt heavenly. Not directly sexual, maybe, but good enough that Tess could feel herself growing pretty flushed and warm anyway. Her whole body was, but as always, those feelings also seemed to concentrate between her legs. Somewhere in her womb.

She found that the motions she was making were kind of like milking a cow, only translated to her human breasts_,_ letting the cowbell charm jingle quietly between her tits with each motion. It had an entrancing quality to it, not entirely unlike playing with a pair of Baoding balls. Only much softer. It was a nice relaxation to sink into, each little squeeze accompanied by a brief jingle, and deeper, somewhat lusty relaxation. Like sinking into a soft, erotic cloud where everything was nice, and she was finally content. Something like those cows she had been watching. Always happy, always content, only unlike her they couldn't milk themselves.

Poor cows, Tess thought as she drifted towards warm, fuzzy dreams, and eventually her hands fell, one first, and then the other, to her sides as sleep overcame her, leaving her dozing off with the cooling cup of tea next to her, and the cowbell charm safely nestled between her breasts, seemingly just a little larger than they had been before.

The next morning, Tess woke up and found herself so refreshed and relaxed that she didn't want to get out of bed at all. The cotton of her bedsheets felt like heaven, and all she really wanted to do was to lay there and enjoy that early-morning softness and comfort forever.

Yet, she had to get up eventually. That was obvious enough. With a groan, Tess peeled herself up and was momentarily confused when she heard a little bell jingle somewhere, like a very small cow walking across the pasture of a snow globe – oh! Her necklace!

Tess chuckled as she realized she'd slept with it on. Must've really been tired yesterday, sheesh, she sighed and moved to take it off. She wasn't going to go outside today anyway, so there was no point in wearing anything nice-

-the clasp wouldn't budge. It was as if it had fused into a solid piece of metal overnight. After a few moments of frustrated fidgeting, Tess threw her hands up, glancing down at the cowbell charm. A quick yank would get it off. Tess didn't really want to damage the chain this early, but it could always be replaced anyway, and it obviously had to be fitted with a proper clasp.

With a sad sigh, she tugged hard on the necklace, and instead, it slipped out of her grasp. She pulled a little harder, and yelped as the chain dug into the back of her neck. Ow.

For being made of gold, the chain was tough as hell. Tess groaned as she got up and headed to the living room, naked but not caring, in search of her pair of wire cutters. She found them in a drawer and sighed again as she placed the chain between the blades and squeezed.

Only, again, it didn't come off. No matter how hard she squeezed the wire cutters around the chain, she couldn't even dent it. There was something unnatural going on, she quickly realized, because there was no way that a thin chain was that tough. She had to go back to the store, Tess realized, and see if the owner knew anything. Not that she really minded having the necklace on, though. The jingling of the little bell was soothing, and it really made her want to…

…milk herself? Why had that thought been the first to come to mind? Suddenly, Tess was more confused than anything. She felt a sudden, gnawing urge to squeeze at her breasts again, to… to yes, milk them, like she was an actual cow. And didn't they look a little bigger than before, too? Tess took a deep breath.

Cursed magical necklaces didn't, to her knowledge, exist.

It was just stuck and made of tough metal.

She'd go back to the store later and ask the owner about it.

Until then, there was no reason that she shouldn't relieve that illusionary feeling of pressure in her breasts. It wasn't as if she was lactating, even. It was just growing pains, Tess told herself, and sat down on the nearby couch to knead her chest again. And just as before, almost instantly, all her worries dissipated. Who cared about the necklace being stuck, anyway? Who cared if she felt so good and docile after putting it on and obeying the urge to milk her swollen tits. They really did feel bigger in her hands, but that was how cows were supposed to be, wasn't it? Well-stacked and milky. Touching them made it hard to think about anything else.

Oh, Tess knew that she probably shouldn't have been doing it, she knew that perfectly well. The thing was that the feeling was pacifying. It made her not care about anything except getting milked. If only you had someone else to do it for you. That'd be nice, wouldn't it? Everything else felt distant and unimportant. She was getting a little bigger for sure. The slightest hint of wet warmth around her nipples, where her fingers focused on kneading, squeezing, and tugging. Tess wondered if she was starting to lactate. That'd be nice, wouldn't it? The thought of feeding a baby, or maybe a calf, made her quiver.

Suddenly she snapped out of that fuzzy trance. Wait, how long-

Tess glanced at her phone. She had been out of it for almost two hours, rubbing her own tits and then, presumably, sleeping. There was something very wrong with whatever was happening to her. Quickly, she got up, as much as some part of her wanted to just keep laying in bed all day. The store. She needed to go to Stuff and ask about it, just in case the shopkeeper knew anything about what might've been happening. He had given her the necklace for free, after all, so maybe it hadn't been a nice gesture, after all.

As Tess pulled her bra on, she noticed that it felt quite a bit tighter than before. The cups dug into tender skin rather painfully.

She was definitely changing, and on top of that, she was starting to feel a rather pointed, irritating headache around her scalp. One that she knew, instinctively, that she could easily relieve if she just rubbed her soft, plentiful tits some more, or better yet, found some handsome man to do it-

-no, stop it. One thing at a time. Go to that damn store and see what the old guy knows, she told herself, though it felt like trying to swim through molasses. Still, she managed to get dressed in everything she needed except for the bra.

The shop wasn't far away from her home, but with every step, Tess was painfully aware of her breasts bouncing and jiggling, and so was, no doubt, everyone around her, though she didn't dare to look and confirm. Again, the anxiety it brought on made her want to rub them some more, already knowing that doing so would instantly calm her down, make her not care about any of it.

Eventually Tess reached the street corner where the store was, only it wasn't there. The locale she had been inside just yesterday was dark and empty.

A pang of anxiety instantly shot through Tess. The store had been there, and she had proof hanging around her neck, but as she peeked in through the window, she saw nothing but a few shelves, cobwebs and dust. Nobody had been here for years. Only, the problem was, Tess knew that wasn't true. She slapped her hand down from her chest, where it once again was trying to squeeze away the anxiety.

She hadn't been hallucinating, at least. Hallucinations didn't leave physical charms around her. She was either being pranked, or it was something supernatural. It felt somewhat lazy and intellectually dishonest to so nonchalantly conclude that, but what else could it be? Real people didn't make thin gold chains that were unbreakable.

Tess sat down in front of the building, and just then, her phone chimed. A quick look showed that work was resuming tomorrow, and reading that made her jolt upright again, pierced once more by sharp, cold anxiety. She had to go to work like this.

Fuck.

Tess hurried back home, the cowbell charm quietly chiming with each step she took – so much for slowing me down, it can't even do that – and once she finally arrived, Tess slumped against the door and buried her face in her hands. She felt like she was going to burn out at any moment, with too many things to worry about filling her head and leaving her entirely paralyzed. Yet, if she allowed that feeling to consume her, she'd lose her job too. And that meant she only had one well-rationalized and thoroughly excused escape left.

She pulled her shirt up over her head, and began to rub her tits, squeezing and tugging on those big, soft mounds with loving and measured motions. As before, her mind instantly emptied. It wasn't as much a blankness, really, as it was a comfortable daze. It reminded her a lot of alcohol, the way she knew she shouldn't but the warm blanket it provided over her senses was so nice that it was hard to resist.

And once again, Tess grew rather needy while doing it. Her tits were definitely growing larger, there was no denying that. But that wasn't the only thing. She felt soft, malleable, and a trembling, exploratory hand quickly found that the faded headache had resulted in two little horns growing from her forehead, and a glance down showed that black splotches – like a cow's – had begun to form on her breasts. It all felt perfectly reasonable and even relaxing for as long as Tess kept milking, tugging on her pillowy breasts until the nipples because to grow wet with milk again.

How was she going to explain any of this at work, tomorrow?

Maybe they wouldn't notice. Maybe.

Before she knew it, Tess had fallen asleep again, the pacifying eroticism of milking herself lulling her into a deep slumber, though not without her subconsciously grinding against her blankets and pillows, leaving more than a few items wet with her transformation-induced lust. It would be a rough day tomorrow. Maybe, Tess thought in those half-formed dreams, she might just come up with a lie about having gotten implants. A haircut would hide the horns.

Fuck. Even in dreams, it was hard to believe she was growing horns like a cow. Yet, she didn't feel worried about it, and instead felt only soft, warm, and comfortable. Worries could wait until tomorrow, and Tess let herself drift peacefully on the oneiric tides.

Until the next morning when the alarm rang, sending her nearly leaping out of bed and once again full of adrenaline and all the other stress hormones that left humans feeling awful in the end.

Work. She had to get ready, and she didn't even have a fitting bra! Tess rushed to her closet and pulled out shirt after shirt, trying to find someone that'd fit her rather swollen tits. Her hips felt wider too, and her belly was itchy, and it was all too much. Normally these few minutes were plenty enough for her to get ready, but normally Tess wasn't also turning into a goddam cow.

She was out the door without a bra and bumped her newly widened hips against the frame as she closed it. Tess felt like she was going crazy, evidently clumsier than ever too. She just had to hope that nobody would notice, or at least, that they wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

To her surprise, nobody seemed to. Though several of her male colleagues glanced at her breasts, nobody said anything, and in a way, that was enough for her to feel a little more comfortable. Nobody even commented on her little horn-nubs, though they definitely stuck out of her hair by just a millimeter or two.

Well, until it was time for lunch break. One of the women she worked with approached her. Oh, here it comes, Tess prepared herself mentally to be asked about the massive implants, but instead, when she spoke, her voice was sympathetic.

“Forgot your bra?" she asked. “Yeah, happens to me when I don't get enough coffee in the mornings, too…"

That was what she was going to ask? Out of all the possible approaches, she decided to act as if nothing was happening at all? For the first time in a couple of days, Tess felt a flare of angry frustration rather than anger.

“You don't think they look any bigger?" she asked, immediately regretting drawing more attention to them, at least until her coworker replied.

She looked Tess over and then answered. “Nah, just the right size for a cow."

Tess was left stunned, unsure if she was meant to feel offended by what she said, or if she really was perceiving her as a cow. Stiffly, she excused herself, and walked off to the restrooms, desperate for a quiet moment to process what on earth was happening.

Once there, she leaned over the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. Her nose had grown a little. Widened, along with the rest of her face, into what looked like a very early shape for a muzzle. The horns poked out a little more than they had, and the itch on her belly had grown all the more infuriating, too. With growing anxiety and dread, Tess tugged her skirt up, only to – to her great horror – notice that most of her belly had grown pink, with four little nubs arranged in the middle, and each itching to be touched.

She was growing an udder. The truth was painfully clear. She had been cursed, or something like that, by the damn necklace, and now she was growing a goddamn udder.

Tess knew full well that she shouldn't touch the damn things. In all the stories about curses that she'd read, not giving in was a key part in dispelling them. She desperately wanted to, though, knowing that it'd calm her down instantly and leave her pleasantly wet and tingly just like before, rather than worried.

Instead, she stood there, staring into her own bewildered eyes.

You can do this, Tessy. If you're turning into a cow, it's because of magic. You shouldn't worry about magic. You always liked cows anyway, she told herself, fiddling with the charm still dangling from her neck.

Just then someone else walked into the restroom. She gave a squeak of surprise, seeing one of her male coworkers, but then, she remembered that they had changed every space to be unisex just before the old boss kicked the bucket.

“Oh, you need to get milked again? Should've just told me," he – Hayes, Tess seemed to remember was his name – asked, with zero hint of shame or hesitation, despite having just asked a woman if she needed milking.

He didn't even wait for a reply before he was standing right next to Tess, who found herself frozen in shock at a man she barely knew suddenly unbuttoning her shirt as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yeah, definitely milking time. You just gotta stop being so shy, everyone knows cows need milking," Hayden smiled, and then tugged Tess' shirt open. Her heavy breasts fell out with a bounce, and his cold hands were on them instantly, causing the changing woman to give a little squeaky moo of surprise.

Wait, a moo? I'm not literally- you know what's going to happen if you don't—

Tess didn't. Hayden grasped her tits, and her mind cut to fuzzy static in an instant at the pleasantness of the sensation, and then twice so when he began to really milk her.

Should make him stop. The little protest was like a grain of dust floating across her mental pasture. It didn't matter. She barely noticed it. Instead, she was very aware of the pleasant sensations in her tits, each tug of both surging directly to her twitching sex. She sighed, and then moaned, both sounds coming out as little more than another flavor of a very bovine, satisfied moo.

“Really productive today, arencha?" Hayden asked. His hands were wet with milk, and even though Tess couldn't see that, she felt the slick warmth against her happily thrumming teats all the same. “Haven't gotten yourself knocked up yet, have you?"

Well, Tess hadn't, but the thought still sent a wave of warm, fuzzy thoughts through her mind. Getting knocked up would mean she'd need to get milked more. That was how cows worked, wasn't it? And all she'd have to do was to ask any man to be her bull. As a cow, there was no shame in it, not like with humans having to consider all the implications of picking whoever they did.

Fuck. She felt herself changing again. The itch on her belly grew and then… stopped. Her face and sinuses felt a little uncomfortable, and then she realized that she could see a snout blocking the bottom of her vision. Her snout, exactly like that of a cow.

Stop, she tried to tell Hayden, but the only thing that came out of that bovine muzzle was another satisfied, needy moan. The sensation of being milked was just indescribable. It made it so that nothing else mattered but relieving that tingly pressure that filled her bosom. And so, Tess once again faded into that lull of warm, soothing sensations, letting them resonate through her body and vibrate through her very soul, or so it felt, at least.

She moan-mooed again as Hayden squeezed one nipple and then the other, for the final time, god only knew how many minutes – or hours – later, forcing out a little squirt of milk from both. Then, he let go and licked his fingers clean.

“That any better? I gotta head back to work, cow," he smiled apologetically.

“Mh-yes," Tess replied. “I… I'm good."

Well, she was good in the sense that all those worries had once again been wiped from her mind. She was not good in that she desperately needed to get fucked, and letting Hayden milk her had also left her looking more cowlike than ever. As Tess slowly raised her head to look at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized what she saw. She looked more like an anthropomorphic cow than a human, by now, with a clearly defined muzzle and two prominent, stubby horns. Even her ears had changed into a very obviously bovine shape and stuck out prominently. Still with the cursed bell around her neck, of course.

As Tess stepped away from the mirror, she felt her belly jiggle. No, not her belly. She didn't dare look down for several minutes. This all had to be a dream. This kind of thing just didn't happen. It wasn't possible. It made her want to get milked again to dispel the growing feeling of dread.

No, no. No. NO. If you keep doing it, you're really going to end up as a full goddamn cow, Tessy. You have to start resisting. Yesterday, ideally. If not yesterday, then right now. You're not a cow.

It felt like a weak excuse. Even her inner voice of conviction didn't sound very convinced. Tess did, after all, look almost like a cow. All the way down to the…

…she slowly looked down, and sure enough, she had an udder now. Just like a cow, though maybe not quite as big. Still, plenty big enough that she had no hope of hiding it under the regular button-up that she wore for work. And that meant she'd be walking around with her tits out, confirming to everyone that she was actually a cow like they seemed to think, with the evidence on full display.

And she couldn't get what Hayden had said out of her head. Getting pregnant would make her produce more milk. It was what cows did.

This is basically your last chance, Tessy.

Stop giving into it.

It doesn't matter how good it feels.

_If you don't stop, you really will be a cow. _

Tess buttoned up what she could of her shirt, which wasn't much. Her breasts were too big to fit inside at the top, and it hadn't been designed to hold anything like an udder. Cows didn't wear clothes, after all, much less human clothes.

Well, that left Tess with no choice except to walk back out of the bathroom with her tits out, her cheeks burning with intense shame made worse by the constant urge to just return to milking herself. Or the even worse and growing urge to just get fucked without any kind of protection, and to subsequently get pregnant. To get bred. Like a cow should.

A few coworkers glanced at her. Nobody said anything. This was the new normal, it seemed. The necklace seemed to make it so that every new change had retroactively always been there, or so it appeared. That didn't relieve the burning shame Tess felt in the slightest, as she sat down by her computer to keep working while feeling the cool, air-conditioned air of the office on her damp nipples.

She was still lactating, too, it seemed. Tess picked up a tissue and swiped it across her nipples, almost swooning at how intense it felt.

The problem wasn't that Tess couldn't resist the urges. She could resist them, for a while. The problem was that she had no idea how long she would have to remain strong for the transformation to reverse, if it was even possible at all, and much less how she could get the necklace off her neck. It had to be a diabolical test of her willpower, or maybe a divine punishment for distracting herself with idle fantasies about being a cow.

By the end of the workday, when the sun was starting to set, Tess felt outright feverish. A warm sheen of sweat covered most of her body, and try as she might to stay focused, a warm fuzziness seemed to engulf and distort every thought. She knew that animals went into season, but there was no way she was transformed enough for that yet, Tess told herself. Her pussy still looked human. She probably couldn't go into heat yet. Probably. It sure felt like it, though.

When she finally stood up, though, it was to the horrified discovery that her thighs were soaked with wetness. And she wasn't even feeling all that horny! It was as if her body was preparing itself to get fucked regardless of what her mind had to say about it. Her panties were clinging tightly to her lips beneath the mandated pencil skirt, but as much as Tess wanted to get fucked, she wasn't so far gone – yet – that she couldn't resist the desire.

Instead, she quickly excused herself, dodging whatever remarks her coworkers had, and headed out into the chilly autumn night, still with her tits out. Maybe it'd be a good time to go buy a sweater, Tess reasoned. A stretchy one, if I end up even bigger.

Rather than heading home, Tess took the bus towards the mall. Again, nobody reacted to her massive tits, nor her udder, nor the fact that she looked rather like a cow, completely out of place among the various humans on the bus. At least the curse was merciful enough to not force her to explain the changes to everyone.

She realized she had made a terrible mistake before even arriving. The roiling, heated mental fog was getting worse. By now, she was quite sure it was what she had feared. Estrus, or heat. But that wasn't fair, she whined, voice turned inwards. How was she supposed to resist that? If it was a test of her willpower, then whoever was conducting it had just put his finger on the scales.

Tess wandered around the mall aimlessly. It was almost impossible to think about where she was even going as the dazed fucklust really began to set in. The shopfronts had stopped making sense. The music blurred into a droning mess. It felt like a panic attack, except that instead of wanting to escape it, she wanted to dive deeper.

You're here to buy some fitting clothes, said that faint voice of reason that would never be affected by the miasma of desire.

Cows should always be pregnant. Always. How else are you going to produce as much milk as you should?

Tess was surrounded by men. Well, women too, but her attention was focused entirely on the opposite gender. All she had to do was to bend over. Her skirt barely covered her enlarged bovine ass anyway. They all saw her as a cow anyway. She looked like a cow. Why shouldn't she embrace being one? It was what she had always dreamt of, anyway. Being happy, content, getting milked and bred and not having a care in the world about higher ambitions. She could even still work, if she wanted to, just with more breaks to give someone milk for their morning cup of joe.

No. Don't you fucking dare.

But there was just no fighting it anymore. She had never really had a chance, or at least that was what Tess told herself. She had to just embrace her new self as a dairy cow, as breeding stock, just like the curse wanted her to be.

Tess stumbled over to the food court, unable to make it any further, and leaned over the nearest table. Even the position alone felt relaxing. It felt appropriate. Her swishing tail pulled her skirt up- had she always had a tail? It didn't really matter.

“Need to get bred, cow?" someone asked. Just as she had assumed. They all just saw a cow, and there was nothing improper about begging for a breeding when you were a cow. If anything, you were expected to. A cow couldn't control those urges.

“And a milking, please," Tess whispered. Her udder was still on full display. Her more humanlike, black-splotched and massive tits, too. She was blushing fiercely, but what did it matter? This was what her life would be from here on out.

Someone groped one of her teats, and once again, the sensation completely derailed her train of thought, leaving her staring blankly. Oh, this wasn't good at all, but it felt amazing.

“Hey, boys? Cow needs help here, so if any of you want to help breed her," the first man yelled. “Just get over here."

It didn't even seem like a selfish, taking-advantage sort of deal for them. No, the men seemed to genuinely think that they were helping her as one pulled down her panties and another knelt next to her, even fetching a bucket from a nearby store to milk her swollen udder into.

Tess felt like she was drifting, floating on some distant current of air. Her entire sense of self felt frayed and diffuse, but very fucking good. This time, she mooed proudly when that helpful stranger began to really tug on her teats, and another's hands found her upper breasts, massaging those as well.

She felt cool air brush against her bare pussy. At that point, being milked like that, Tess was dripping wet, but that was good, anyway. She was meant to get wet for breeding. Dutifully, some strange she'd never met before took his place behind her and guided his thick, rock-hard cock to nudge against her entrance.

“Hurry up already, give that cow a calf or two," someone else, with a woman's voice, called out. “We gotta make dinner soon."

His wife? Did she really not care? Was fucking unknown cows that normal-

-he thrust into Tess' ravenous pussy, all the way to the thick, throbbing hilt, in one smooth and almost frictionless thrust owing to how wet she was. Tess clenched around him in naked, desperate need, and mooed again. Every slick inch of his hardness felt amazing, scratching itches that she couldn't even have imagined having, just like the milking was doing, turning her whole body into a singular glowing ball of ecstasy.

“God, whoever owns this cow does not breed her enough," the man behind her laughed, and Tess heard other zippers being pulled down. “She's gonna need more after I'm done, that's for sure."

Oh, Tess couldn't have even dreamt of disagreeing. She thrust back against the stranger's magnificent shaft, impaling herself more deeply on it and moaning at the top of her lungs. Nobody in the mall even cared, it was just business as usual. A cow being bred. A cow!

Surrendering to those sensations made Tess so happy, for one of the first times in her life. She was content, and it was made all the better by the delicious friction of the bare, unprotected cock rutting into her and preparing to fill her fertile pussy with cum! She wanted to get pregnant so badly, so that she could produce even more milk for everyone, and of course, so that she could enjoy being milked more often. Gods, she'd have no choice, she'd have to get milked regularly from now on. Every single day!

Suddenly she felt the man fucking her stiffen and grunt. His cock swelled inside her, and then pulsed rapidly in the unmistakable rhythm of a male orgasm. She felt, much more vividly than she had ever felt it before, warm, thick cum flood her with each pulse, splattering across her cervix and soaking deeper right away, as if her body just couldn't wait to become pregnant.

Maybe it really couldn't.

Before she had any time to process what had just happened, the first cock pulled out and another slid inside her cum-soaked, welcoming depths, continuing the euphoric little thrusts so smoothly that, if it hadn't been for the spent sperm oozing down her thighs, Tess wouldn't even have remembered that she already got inseminated. Meanwhile, everyone around her continued with their lives as usual. The first of the men who had squirted her womb full of his seed pulled his jeans back on and continued onwards with what Tess could only assume was his wife. Not that she could see much through her tear-glazed eyes. Each rutting thrust into her deep and warm cow-pussy felt better than the last.

Some distant alarm bell still sounded in her head. Some unreasonable conviction that it wasn't getting pregnant that'd lock her into her milky fate, but when she herself came. Then the person milking her udder squeezed hard, and that thought was gone, with Tess rapidly careening towards a wonderful orgasm. It was even better than she had thought, and tears streamed from her eyes as the pleasure grew and grew towards unimaginable levels. She didn't just feel like a dairy cow in a regular field, no, she felt like a goddess, a milky goddess of lust that could feed every hungry person she came across!

Beneath her, the bucket was almost full. Tess felt a warm pair of lips wrap around one of her teats to drink from her directly. The firm pair of rough, calloused hands on her breasts were still working her over. Someone commented on just how pent up “that cow" must've been to produce so much, but Tess knew, even in her fading, burning mind, that the transformation would keep filling her udder and tits until it was finished.

And that moment was only seconds away. She didn't really have time to back out, but it felt like she passed the point no return regardless as rapturous pleasure finally engulfed her bovine form fully. As the waves of pure ecstasy washed over her, Tess let out a long, low moo that echoed through the mall. Maybe she was being used. She didn't care. She had never felt so good, so content, so ecstatic as with that final half-human orgasm wracking her body with waves of pleasure that left her bovine snatch gushing her warm, lewd juices over her latest male's cock. How many had it even been? How many had emptied their balls inside her? Two, or had she missed them changing like the first time?

She didn't care about that either, only about finally being pregnant.

When the last of the men finally pulled out of her and zipped up his pants, Tess could feel the cum leaking slowly out of her and trickling down her inner thighs. Outside, the sun had long since set. The crowd around her was slowly dissipating and leaving her bent over the same table as before, but with someone's oversized sweater almost apologetically draped over her, and with a certain clarity of mind.

Tess knew what she was now, for better or worse. She stood up with shaky legs and hurried away to the restrooms to clean herself, with no interruptions from anyone. She was simply doing, once more, what cows always did. By now, Tess believed it too. She could barely remember not being a cow.

A pregnant cow. She pressed her thighs together, enjoying the feeling of warm, thick heat inside her, in anticipation of her breasts, udder, and belly swelling, and her womb full with some stranger's calf. The thought nearly had her pass out with how it made her head spin, but just barely, Tess managed to keep herself upright.

Once somewhat tidied up, she pulled on the offered sweater, which at least covered her up, even though it could hardly hide the fact that she had a rather prominent udder. Nothing would ever hide that, and Tess didn't mind anymore.

Tess lived a rather settled life after that. Oh, she stayed at her previous workplace, getting milked by Hayden or whoever else volunteered every day. The office cow needed milking, after all, and the enjoyment thereof was very much mutual. It kept Tess' anxiety at bay and made her feel good enough to get fucked, later, because good cows also had to always be pregnant to produce as much milk as possible. And her coworkers? Well, they got fresh, warm milk, and then men could freely rut her, and if anything, her workplace was all the more harmonious with their new – or from their perspective, old – bovine teammate.

As for the cowbell that'd started the whole thing, it never did come off, nor did Tess ever find the strange store or its owner again. Not that she spent a lot of time looking; the pleasures of being bred and milked were far more enticing than the search for meaning. Giving birth was, perhaps, a little less pleasant, but it was simply an important part of her life as a cow, and her appropriately widened hips made it bearable enough.

One thing that could be said, though, was that Tess had been entirely right about how happy she would be as a cow. Just like the ones she had spent so long watching at the pasture, she was truly content simply being a dairy cow.