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Mama’s Udderly Good Cookies

Written By: MisstressChange

“I think this is the place,” Brock said, looking up from the invitation card in his hand. He shone the flashlight from his phone at the pitted metal gate before him, then at one of the worn stone columns supporting the metal structure. He read the street numbers fastened down its length and looked down, squinting at his invitation, not thinking to use his flashlight on it. His eyes turned back up at the column to confirm the address. “Yep, this is it.”

“What, this place?” Chad said in disbelief. “That can’t be right.”

“Nope. This is the place.” Brock replied. “It says it right here on my card.” He looked to his three fellow fraternity members. “You guys doubting me? Go on and check ’em. Tell me I’m wrong.” Chad, Trey, and Logan squinted at their invitations, also lacking the common sense to use Brock’s camera flashlight, or their own, for that matter.

The boys had received the invitations days ago, inviting them to a ‘gathering’ of sorts at the address presented on the immaculately crafted cards. The thick, pastel-colored paper used in their creation and the floral patterns decorating the borders and corners gave the boys the notion that this would be a party organized by one of the university’s sororities. They were all too eager to be there on the listed date, at the listed time, as they refused to miss out on the prospect of getting lucky with one of the girls.

As they gazed through the locked iron gate at the neglected residence beyond, they began having second thoughts.

“Isn’t this ‘Longhorn manor?’” Logan asked.

“Yeah, it is,” Trey replied.

“I’ve heard about this place,” Chad mentioned. “Used to be a sorority house way back in the day. Hasn’t been occupied in decades.”

“I’m surprised the school hasn’t patched it back up and made it a heritage site,” Trey said. “That or knocked it down to make room for more condos.” The four boys looked up and down the street at the new multilevel residences built since they’d started at the university years ago. They looked back at the decaying mansion beyond the gate, its lights all out, casting a dark, foreboding aura.

“Man, I don’t wanna go in there,” Logan said. “There’s clearly no party here.” Brock was taken aback by Logan’s words.

“What?! You’re not about to pussy out on us, are you?” He asked.

“Dude,” Trey butt in. “What are you talking about? Who would throw a party in this run-down shithouse?”

“Sorority girls that know how to throw a raging party in a secret location?” Brock rebutted.

“How did they even get in there?” Chad asked. “How do we even get in there?” He shook the rusty chain and padlock on the front gate, barring their entrance. “Shit’s locked, bro.” He gave the lock one last pull to emphasize his point, and, as if the gods had set out to make the boy look like a bigger fool than he was, the rusted mechanisms within the lock gave way, crumbling. The lock came open in Chad’s hand, and the four looked down at the rusty hunk of metal in shock. Brock burst into a hearty chuckle.

“Chad, my man! You’re even stronger than you look.” He shoved Chad out of the way and began unraveling the chain from the two halves of the gate. Chad just looked on in astonishment. Surely, he wasn’t that strong. “C’mon!” Brock boasted. “I bet the girls left it dummy-locked to keep the ‘undesirables’ out.” He pulled the chain off and opened one side of the metal gate. The old, ungreased, and rusty hinges croaked with a resounding, shrill groan as they moved for the first time in many years.

The others watched Brock waltz right into the front yard. In the past, the mansion’s grounds must have been a sight to behold, now overgrown with weeds and vines and covered in molehills. The untended shrubs looked malevolent in the fading light of the evening. All three figured Brock to hold some kind of incredible bravery to adventure through the gloomy yard like it was nothing. That or he really was as stupid as they knew him to be. Trey and Logan turned their gaze to Chad for direction, shrugging their shoulders. Chad sighed.

“C’mon, let’s go make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.” The two gave him uneasy looks. It was Chad’s turn to shrug.

“Who knows? Maybe there actually is a party waiting in there for us.”

******************************************************************************

The wooden door to the front of the house buckled as something struck it like a battering ram. Two more massive thumps shook the door before it gave way. An off-balance Brock stumbled in with his hand still clutching the handle. The boy regained his balance before straightening up, brushing some soot off his polo shirt’s sleeve.

“See, I told you it was just a little sticky,” he said confidently, vindicated in using force on the old door. The others followed him in, preparing to pull their phones out and turn on their flashlights. They stopped in their tracks when they realized that wouldn’t be necessary.

When the four stood just outside the open door seconds earlier, the inside had been as dark and dingy as they’d expected of the old structure. However, when they walked through the door, they found the inside fully lit, every light working as intended. Not only that, but the house’s interior was…as perfect as the day it had been completed. The wood paneling was like new, and the rugs were unsullied by dirt. There wasn’t a single speck of dust or cobweb to be found. It was like someone had refurbished the place. The old house actually felt…homey, warm, inviting.

Contrasted with the dilapidation outside, it was like stepping into another world.

“Daaaaaamn.” Trey marveled.

“Holy shit.” Logan mused. “This is nuts.”

“Yeah, no wonder the girls wanted to have a party here. Look at this place!” Brock exclaimed.

“It’s like brand new,” Chad added, joining his frat brothers in gawking at the magnificent sights. Eventually, their eyes began searching for signs of the expected party rather than just at the mansion’s splendor.

“Uh. Where is everyone?” Brock asked. The others murmured and grumbled sounds of absent answers for their frat leader. Brock put his hands to his mouth. “Hello?!” he called out. There was no reply. The house, despite its warm appearance, was eerily silent.

“I guess everyone’s showing up fashionably late,” Trey suggested.

“Someone’s gotta be here,” Logan added. “The lights are on.”

“Maybe they’re still setting up?” Chad guessed.

“Then where are they?” Trey asked, demanding an answer. Brock groaned.

“You three ladies have fun chit-chatting. I’m gonna find the ladies hosting this thing. I’m sure they’ll ‘appreciate’ a little help.”

“You’re just gonna wander around this place by yourself?” Chad asked. Brock turned and took a few steps backward as he replied, holding his hands out and open to his sides.

“Why not? You’re free to join me. That or take a look around yourselves. But the first one to find them gets dibs.” He chuckled smugly to himself and continued on to the rear of the mansion, eyeing the kitchen. The other three boys just glanced at each other.

“First one gets dibs then, yeah?” Logan confirmed with his frat brothers.

“First one.” Trey agreed.

“Yeah,” Chad seconded. With that, they split up, Trey and Logan climbing the stairs while Chad wandered downstairs to the impressive lounge in the basement.

***

Brock gazed around the kitchen, his ears picking up the sounds of his frat brothers all scurrying off to their own corners of the mansion. The kitchen was a good guess as to where their hosts would be. He half-expected to find a few girls piling unopened liquor bottles on the island counter, pouring chips and Cheetos into bowls, and stacking red solo cups on a fold-out table. But there was nothing of the sort. The kitchen was deserted, with no signs of any party-to-be.

“What the fuck?” Brock swore, frustrated. Maybe these invitations were all a joke set up by a rival Frat, or the pledges getting back at them for all the hazing. He walked around the island toward the stove and adjacent counters, eyeing the only thing in the room that looked slightly out of place, considering how clean and ‘put away’ the place was.

It was a cookbook bound in faded pink fabric. Brass pieces were fixed to the corners of the thick cover, protecting it from damage. A long pink ribbon trailed off from the spine, looping back into the closed pages, marking a spot left by the previous reader. The thing looked like something his grandmother had when he was a child when she invited him to join her in the kitchen to make cookies. Lost in the nostalgic memory, he hadn’t realized he’d opened the book to its first page.

Mama Longhorn’s Baking Recipes, the title read, written in perfect cursive.

“Hmm,” Brock hummed to himself. His fingers turned the first page. It was a page of measurement conversions. Uninterested, Brock flipped to the next page, then the next, flipping through countless notes on ingredient preparation until the first recipe appeared. His eyes widened at the skillfully hand-drawn picture of a cake topped with whipped cream and strawberries. Red and pink watercolor paints added splashes of color to the rendition.

Strawberry Shortcake. Brock’s eyes scanned the picture, then the ingredients, then the preparation and baking instructions, reading each word as though it were an article in one of his sports magazines. He licked his lips, his gaze falling on a flavor quote written at the bottom of the page in the same cursive as the title, only smaller.

‘A loving mother is always sweet as sugar.’

Brock blinked a few times. The words stuck a chord. He didn’t know why, but it stuck in his mind. He gave his head a quick shake and continued to the next page, a recipe for Nanaimo bars. This page shared the same layout as the last, including a hand-drawn picture of the pastry. Once again, Brock read the words, strangely enamored by them. He couldn’t take his eyes off the page. At the bottom, he read the flavor quote, a different one appearing to accompany each new recipe.

‘A caring mother is firm while retaining a soft touch.’

“A caring mother is firm while retaining a soft touch,” Brock spoke. He wasn’t sure why he said them aloud. He felt…compelled to, just as he felt compelled to turn the page to the next dessert. This one was for an apple pie. Brock poured over the page, reading the quote at the bottom.

‘An adoring mother loves all her children with all her heart.’

“A-an adoring mother loves all her children with all her heart,” Brock said, unaware he’d even spoken. A mistiness clouded his eyes as emotions he didn’t know he had stirred deep inside him. Maternal…emotions. Mindlessly, he turned the page, unable to tear himself from the book.

The next page contained a recipe for cookies, chocolate chip cookies to be precise. He read every word on the page intensely, all the while unknown feelings swelled inside him, bubbling to the surface like heated custard. As with the last three recipes, he read the unique quote.

‘A perfect mother provides for her children.”

Brock read the words aloud and gasped. A teardrop landed on the page just to the right of the quote, punctuating it with its blemish. Something overcame Brock at that moment, an overpowering feeling to provide, to nourish, to love. An unquestionable, unignorable feeling that Brock never thought he’d ever experience overtook him like a riptide.

The feeling of motherhood…

“A perfect mother provides for her children.” He said, his body shaking with a compulsion to bake, to provide. He looked up from the book and gazed around the kitchen. Suddenly, the room felt far more familiar to him. He instinctively knew where things were stored, what cupboard or drawer they were in, how many eggs he had, and how much sugar was left. There was no milk; he somehow knew this, there never was, but something in the back of his mind told him ‘nature’ would provide.

Just as he would provide.

Brock moved to gather the bowls and utensils he’d need to bake the cookies, going into drawers and cupboards for whisks and spoons and pulling bowls off shelves. He gathered the flour, the eggs, the sugar, and, of course, the chocolate chips.

A clopping noise accompanied him as he pranced about the kitchen. He’d removed his shoes and socks in his absentminded gathering. They had become uncomfortable to wear. They just didn’t feel right. What did feel right was the hardwood floor under the two hooves that had replaced his feet. He wasn’t sure when they’d appeared. Perhaps it happened while he read from the cookbook? He just…never noticed when his toes fused and joined with his feet, his flesh and bone morphed into two keratin claws, leaving him with the hooves he now enjoyed walking upon.

“A perfect mother provides for her children. A perfect mother provides for her children,” Brock murmured, chanting the phrase like a mantra, driving him to bake. His body worked on autopilot, following the instructions to the sound of his hooves clopping on the floor. He measured the flour, dumping it into the large metal mixing bowl. As he did, he felt a tugging at his hips, like someone was stretching them, pulling them wider like toffee. His already tight shirt grew tighter as his pectorals expanded, the hard muscle beneath waning, giving way for something else, something softer, rounder.

“An adoring mother loves all her children with all her heart,” Brock murmured, adding the baking soda. His waist pinched inward, and his ribcage shrank, each rib emanating a soft *pop* that tickled his sides. He giggled, momentarily breaking his mantra. Typically, he’d be surprised by how his tittering laughter sounded so feminine, as his voice now held a higher pitch. But he was far too busy. He had three beautiful daughters for whom to bake delicious sweets. There was certainly no time to worry about such silly things.

“A caring mother is firm while retaining a soft touch,” Broke said, this time putting a little more breath into his words, speaking them more clearly now. He felt the bulge in his boxer briefs move. His man parts were pulling inward as if he were standing in a cold lake. However, the kitchen couldn’t be warmer, especially with the oven heating up. The stretchy fabric of his boxer briefs clung flatter to his crotch with each passing moment. Still, Brock paid it no mind. The oblivious man, caught in his trance of home baking, was far too occupied cracking the eggs. They landed amongst the flour and baking soda, stirring the powdery ingredients, sending particles into the air, the powder underneath clinging to the egg’s moisture.

“A loving mother is always sweet as sugar,” Broke chirped, adding the sugar to the bowl with a giggle. A satisfied smile split his face, a face that made a sickening snap as it pressed forward. His mouth and nose entered his vision as his new, growing muzzle inched further along. Brock saw nothing wrong with this. Why would he? He was just following the recipe. Indeed, this was part of the process? He scratched his head, absentmindedly rubbing the ache just above his forehead. His fingers ran over small bumps emerging from his scalp. His horns. Well, of course he had horns, or, would have horns. How could he complete the cookies without them?

“A perfect mother provides for her children,” He repeated, adding the meager portions of cornstarch and salt. As he sprinkled the ingredients in, he noticed how big his hands had become and how burly his arms were. Not in the way he was used to. They were softer now, and the definition of his muscles had disappeared, yet they were the same size. The ends of his fingers had merged with his fingernails, each end now capped with this new darkened keratin. Brock set the salt down to admire the changes to his fingers, but as he did, the cardboard container slipped from his smoothened fingers, falling to the floor around his hooves. “Oops.” He said, the motherly, feminine tone fluttering from between his lips. He bent over to pick up the salt, and his sweatpants strained against his thick, womanly thighs, the seams ready to pop and split.

“Silly me,” Brock said in his new voice. Something unfurled from above the waistband of his stretched sweats. A nagging discomfort from his backside finally eased, like a tightened spring being released. A thick, long tail sprung free from his pants, bobbing and waving about, the bushy tuft of coarse fur on the end flapping to and fro like a little flag. Brock picked up the salt and straightened up again, setting it aside.

“A thoughtful mother is never wasteful,” Brock said. He wasn’t sure where he’d heard that one before. It must have been from another page of the recipe book. He couldn’t wait to try the other recipes with his… her daughters. Yes, her … She had three daughters. They were busy getting the rest of the house ready for their awaited guests, guests she would be serving the cookies to. She’d better keep going if she was to finish them in time.

“An adoring mother loves all her children with all her heart,” Brock said proudly. She cut a portion off the stick of unsalted butter and dropped it into the bowl. It was hard to see into the bowl now; her breasts had grown to such large proportions, double D cups at least. They must be full of milk. Her tender, bovine eyes gazed across the counter. Of course. That was why there was no milk in the fridge…

She’d be providing the milk…

Brock poured the vanilla extract into a measuring spoon, took a long sniff with her broad nose, and then let the dark fluid fall into the bowl. A strange pinch between her legs broke her concentration, even more so when she felt a lurching sensation follow it. She set the spoon and bottle on the counter and let her hand wander beneath her sweatpants. Gazing around for the bag of chocolate chips, her fingers explored the cleft that replaced her long-gone manhood. She parted the delicate, moist pussy lips. Her hand strayed there, fingers easing between her folds. She blushed at the familiar electrifying sensations warming her body. Baking always put her in the mood. The idea of creating something of her own. Just as she’d done to create her three beautiful daughters. However, her daughters only required two ingredients, herself and that big…handsome bull….

Brock gasped at the memory of when he’d taken her, bred her good and proper, and filled her with his seed. Her fingers hooked up and inside her entrance. She moaned and grabbed the chocolate chip bag, dumping a heaping handful inside the bowl with the other ingredients.

“A-an obedient mother i-is always ready for her stud,” she stammered. She carelessly dropped the bag of chocolate chips on the counter, spilling several out. This baking was getting her so hot and bothered. Perhaps the former was due to the fine layer of pink fur sprouting from every inch of her body. These clothes… They were a bit much for a big cow like her in such a warm kitchen.

Brooke withdrew from her lady pocket and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her sweatpants. She pulled them with all of her might, fighting to get the straining fabric over her wide, child-bearing hips. Stitches popped, and threads tore. She felt the article loosen enough to peel them down her hefty legs. Each inch of clothing she eschewed revealed more of her luscious pink fur to the world, and as she bent over, so too did she reveal her sopping cunt, yearning for a stud.

Next, she grabbed the lower hem of her polo shirt with both hands, crisscrossing her arms as she peeled the fabric inside out over her head. The shirt’s collar snagged on her new horns on its way up. Losing patience, she tore the fabric rather than ease it over one, then the other. It mattered not if she ruined her clothes. An apron was all she needed now.

She tossed the ruined shirt across the room and kicked her stretched sweatpants away from her, then trotted to the four small hooks fastened to the wall. Each hook had a differently colored apron hanging from it. She selected the pink one and held it in her hands to inspect it. The fabric was freshly washed, and the words ‘Mama Brooke’ were stitched to the front.

Brooke fed the upper loop around her horns and hung the article around her neck, tying the straps around her waist. Once she was done, she looked down, admiring her form, the petite linen fabric barely concealing her. Her wide areola pressed against the strings hanging from her neck, and the lower bib hung high between her legs, teasing any who would look upon her with the possibility that if she brushed the fabric just a little, they’d get an eyeful of Brookes drooling snatch.

Brooke happily returned to her baking. She had ingredients to stir. “A perfect mother provides for her children.” She said merrily. The pink cow looked down at the bowl. All the ingredients were there, well, all except one. Her bovine hand traveled down between her legs once more as she remembered what she had to do next. Her fingers slipped between her slick folds, and she let her middle and index fingers explore her depths.

Her free hand gripped the two straps holding the apron by her neck and pulled them between her ample breasts, wedging them in her cleavage so she’d have all the access she needed to provide the last part of her recipe…

…The milk.

Digging her fingers deeper into her pussy, Brooke leaned over the bowl and took a tit in her hand, squeezing it until strawberry-scented milk squirted from her mammary. “A perfect mother provides for all her children,” Brooke said firmly and proudly. Her wide, thick, bovine tongue lulled from her open maw as she gave her body the attention it craved. The only way this could get better was if her handsome bull was around to fill her bottom. Perhaps he could add some extra ‘cream’ to her recipe.

Her hand shifted to her other breast, filling in the required ingredients. Brooke’s milk was a special touch that had become a staple in all her recipes. It gave her baking a smoother texture and added a subtle flavor of strawberry. She panted as she kneaded the milk from her breasts, reveling in the sensation electrifying her chest. She gave her tit an overzealous squeeze, and her milk sprayed far from the bowl, overshooting its mark and messing the counter and backsplash.

“Oops,” Brooke moaned, frantically massaging her womanly parts with wild abandon. It was nearly time to add her most secret ingredient…

Brooke pried her hand from her breast to grip the edge of the bowl. She hoisted it off the counter and turned in place, resting her round, bovine bottom against the counter. She did this so she could bow her legs and place the bowl between them, readying her recipe to receive its final part.

Brooke’s legs quivered and shook. She stood on the tips of her hooves, letting out a long, blissful moo. The incredible rush of her feminine climax washed over her bulky body, delivered to her by the plunging of her thick fingers in and out of her hole. She finger fucked herself until she gushed over her digits and into the bowl, some of it spraying with even greater velocity than the milk from her chest. Her musky feminine fluids joined the cookie batter, adding its ‘charm’ to the recipe.

Brooke puffed a heavy sigh as she brought herself down from her high. Her fingers withdrew from her snatch, and her eyes focused again. Then, carefully, she lifted the bowl from between her legs and picked up her spoon, stirring her cookie batter to completion.

“A perfect mother provides for all her children.” She breathed, still floating in the aftermath of her self-pleasure. She stirred her cookie batter until the mixture was a firm paste. Then she washed her hands and found two trays for her treats.

Brooke dolled out enough batter to make at least thirty cookies, dropping the dough balls onto the trays in perfect order—three by five.

“There we go,” She murmured. “All ready for baking.” She looked to the stove, where the digital display indicated the internal temperature, just as she had set it. She clopped toward it and opened the oven door, a rush of hot air flowing past her bovine face, lifting her red hair. The air settled, and Brooke slid the trays inside, closing the door to let the oven do its work. She dusted her apron off with her hands, satisfied with a job well done.

“I’m sure my daughters will love how these taste,” Brooke said. “If only they could stop gobbling these down long enough to savor all of their flavors.” She sighed contently to herself and turned for the washroom. Knowing how strangely time passed in this house, there should be plenty of time for a short bath while she waited for the cookies to bake. She plucked a timer off the counter as she passed it, twisting the nob until it reached the eight-minute mark. She also pulled a bottle of red wine from a rack and a wine glass from its hanger under said rack.

“A deserving mother always leaves time for herself.” She said pointedly, swishing her tail as she strode out of the kitchen.

******************************************************************************

Chad tapped his foot as he waited at the bottom of the staircase. He looked down at his phone, lifting it away from his face and into the air occasionally to find a signal. Nothing, anywhere. The whole house appeared to be in a dead zone. How typical… Chad would have liked to pass the time scrolling his apps, but he spent it in frustration instead. One never really realizes how much they depend on the internet until it’s gone.

He looked up when the sound of footsteps descending wooden steps came from the top of the staircase. Trey and Logan were stomping down toward him. Chad put his phone in his pocket and held his hands out in confusion.

“Where the hell were you guys?” He chided. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, half an hour. I would have come looking for you, but I didn’t wanna get lost in this place. It’s like a fuckin’ maze.” The other two reached the bottom and let out confused grunts.

“We were only gone, like, what?” Logan began saying, turning and gesturing to Trey. “Five minutes?” Chad frowed.

“Bullshit, man.” Chad rebutted. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, checking the time. He was shocked to find that, indeed, it had only been six minutes or so. “What the fuck?” He murmured. He could have sworn he’d been standing there longer. “It took me that long to search most of the first floor, and I’ve been standing here much longer than that.”

“This place is much bigger than it looks,” Trey said. “I’d still be up there if Logan wasn’t helping me search.”

“Where’s Brock?” Logan asked. Chad shrugged his shoulders.

“Fuck if I know,” Chad replied. “Nowhere down here. I’ve been in every room, including the kitchen, and I know he went in there first.”

No sooner than when Chad closed his mouth did the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies swirl around them, caressing their noses with its sweet, subtle strawberry aroma. Another subtle scent accompanied these, something…musky? It was too faint to tell what exactly it was, and the boys thought nothing about it. Trey frowned and looked back and forth between the two.

“If no one’s in the kitchen, why do I smell cookies?” He asked.

The three turned their heads and looked down the hallway to the kitchen’s entrance. They began walking curiously toward the room, curious to know if that heavenly scent was for real and, if so, who had baked such delights.

They entered the kitchen, all three looking toward the area around the stove. Clean bowls, measuring cups, and mixing utensils lay on a towel beside the sink. On top of the stove lay two wire racks of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, cooling out in the open. The cookies did exist. It wasn’t just their minds playing tricks. The boys couldn’t help but draw nearer to the baked goodies, their mouths all watering with the prospect of having a taste.

“Who made these?” Logan asked. Chad looked the pastries over, resisting the urge to shove one in his mouth.

“I dunno, one of the girls throwing the party?” Trey replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“Dude, I dunno about you, but I haven’t seen anyone around here besides us.”

“Maybe Brock made them,” Chad mentioned. The three paused to share a few hardy laughs. Chad plucked one of the desserts off the rack and passed it from one hand to the other, shaking the burning sensation from his fingers. “Ow, damn, they’re hot.” He remarked.

“C’mon dude, those aren’t yours.” Trey objected. “Put it back.”

“Hell nah,” Chad replied. “If whoever made these didn’t want them eaten, they shouldn’t invite four hungry bros over, leave them out, and then disappear. Consider this a…tax. A ‘too busy to greet my guests’ tax.” Chad blew on the cookie and took a bite. The creamy, chewy texture felt silky smooth in his mouth, and the flavor of vanilla chocolate with a hint of strawberry massaged his tastebuds. “Oh… Oh, man.” He reveled. “You guys have to try these.”

The other two stared at the cookies, their aroma beckoning them to join in. “I don’t know,” Logan replied, torn between not wanting to piss off the wrong host and wanting so dearly to try those cookies urging him on. Chad finished the last bite of his cookie and went for another.

“Whatever, man, more for me,” Chad remarked, grabbing another cookie and repeating the process. Trey and Logan watched him go for seconds, their mouths watering. They wanted more than anything to join in and ravish the baking someone had put so much effort into. They needed to taste the real thing. The cookies had teased their noses too long.

“Fuck it, I’m gonna try one,” Logan said, giving in to temptation. He picked a cookie off the rack and blew on it before showing it into his mouth. He hummed with satisfaction, making mock orgasmic moans before finishing the rest of it. Trey winced at Logan’s ecstatic sounds. To him, they came off as a little more than overembellishing.

Trey watched Chad go back for a third and Logan a second. They seemed to be enjoying them more than they reasonably should. They couldn’t really be ‘that’ good, could they? The fear of missing out gnawed at Trey. If he didn’t get in on this now, the two might eat them all. He’d never know how tasty they were. He needed to know. He needed to have a bite.

The other two didn’t even notice when Trey reached out and took one of the cookies, their self-indulgences having consumed their attention. Trey popped the pastry in his mouth and bit down. The smooth, chocolaty strawberry flavor caressed his tastebuds. His already watering mouth practically gushed. It was so good… It was perfect.

Trey hummed his approval, going back for another bite. Before he knew it, the cookie was gone, and nothing was left but the crumbs sticking to his fingers. He needed more. He craved nothing else.

He reached past the other two to grab another cookie, glancing briefly up at Chad to see two shallow points emerging from his head. “Horns,” he thought, contemplating what he’d seen only momentarily before cramming the following cookie into his mouth. He gazed at Logan as he devoured his new treat. His frat brother’s hair was shaggier than he remembered, and his ears were longer…much longer. They had a peculiar shape to them, too, a shape that reminded him of…a goat, maybe? No, a cow… He hadn’t much time to contemplate Logan’s strange ears, for he again found his hand lacking a cookie.

He was about to go for a third when Chad grabbed one off the rack and handed it to him. Trey gave Chad a quick look over his frat brother before taking it. The muscles beneath Chad’s tight shirt seemed kind of…off? The washboard abs he’d earned in the fraternity gym no longer showed as much. Chad’s stomach appeared softer now, smoothed out even. However, how his pectorals appeared to have become rounder was even more noticeable. They stood further out now. Almost like breasts…

“Here you go, sis,” Chad said. Trey looked up into Chad’s face and saw its complexion had softened as much as his torso had. The tampered ends of his horns stood out from his scalp, rising from longer hair that had turned a deep shade of blue from its former dark brown. Trey blushed and took the cookie from Chad.

“Thanks,” Trey replied.

“No problem, sis,” Chad said with a friendly smirk. “A kind daughter always helps her sisters.”

If Trey hadn’t caught on to Chad’s use of the word ‘sis’ before, he did now. Not to mention the entire phrase about ‘daughters’ and ‘sisters.’ “Did he just call me ‘sister?’ And did he just refer to himself as a ‘daughter?’” What the hell was going on? And why did Logan have a cow’s tail swaying behind him?

He thought about Chad’s phrase and choice of words, but as he took the first bite of that incredible cookie, those thoughts vanished. “Thanks, sis,” Trey replied with a mouth full of pastry, putting no thought to his words. He paused when his face resonated with a sudden *crack!* that made his eyes turn down. He could perceive more of his face now, for it appeared to have elongated into a broad proto-muzzle. Still, Trey was too engrossed in his cookie’s supreme flavor and texture to pay it any mind.

“A grateful daughter appreciates everything her mother makes her,” Logan said. His hips made a load *pop!* as they suddenly widened, straining against his jeans. He placed a hand on his new, womanly hips and plucked another cookie from the rack. Chad chuckled and swished his bovine tail as it emerged from overtop of his jeans.

“Well put, sister.” He agreed, pushing the last of his cookie into his mouth. Trey was still unsure why the three of them were referring to each other as ‘sister’ or ‘daughter,’ but something about it seemed…proper now, normal even. A phrase of his own manifested in his mind. And he felt the urge to speak it aloud.

“A happy daughter extends her joy to all her family.” He said, the words coming effortlessly. The other two nodded their heads and swished their tails.

“Of course, sister.” Logan agreed.

“Well, said.” Chad praised. Trey blushed, a smile spreading over his lengthening proto muzzle.

The three all reached out and grabbed another cookie, then another. They ate to their hearts’ content. Chad’s abs had disappeared now, and his chest sported two heavy orbs. His face had softened so much he looked more like one of the girls he’d planned on bedding that night. Long, dark blue hair hung down to his shoulders, and two ears similar to Logan’s emerged from beneath those silky curtains.

Logan, on the other hand, had wide, child-bearing hips accompanied by thick, muscular thighs, the two working in conjunction to strain the seams of his jeans. His blonde hair had become chocolate brown. It had been shaggy when Trey had last looked upon it, but now it had grown into a mane of a mohawk, flopping gracefully over his shaved sides. Budding horns pushed out from beneath his scalp. He gazed downward, and what had been a flat chest now bulged with two lumps, much like Chad moments ago.

Trey looked back and forth between them, failing to notice anything wrong with either of them. He felt discomfort at his tailbone and adjusted his cargo pants so his own tail could freely sway. Trey took hold of it and looked down to see a tawny tuff of fur at the end of it. His ears twitched happily at the sight, and he released the new appendage to display his pleasure to his sisters with its joyous sway.

Trey munched on the cookie in his hand while his other hand reached up to his head. His wrists brushed the long bovine ears parting his longer, dirty blonde hair. Blunted fingertips grazed the pointed tips of his emerging horns. He took particular satisfaction in their presence, knowing he wasn’t far behind his sisters. The burgeoning weight in his chest and the sensation of his nipples rubbing against his tightening t-shirt assured him of this.

The upper rack of cookies had long been consumed, and the metal apparatus had been shoved to the side. The three were already nearly through the second. Their hands went to grab the last few cookies available but stopped when a shrill female voice interrupted them.

“You ate all my cookies!”

The three’s ears twitched toward the sound as they jumped in shock. Their heads snapped to address the voice’s owner. Some peculiar, familiar new part of them recognized who the voice belonged to.

Their mother…

There she stood in nothing but her pink apron, the fabric and straps clinging to her voluptuous body. Her shocked, bovine face slipped into a disappointed frown. Her hands gripped her wide, maternal hips angrily, and her hoof tapped against the floor in disapproval. All three of her daughters stared back at her, bovine half-muzzles stuffed with cookies, looking guiltier by the second. After several painfully silent seconds, she spoke again, her voice scornful and hurt.

“How dare you three cows eat all my cookies! And before they’ve even cooled too!” She *tsk*ed a few times, shaking her head. “For shame… I expect much better from you three.” Trey, Logan, and Chad all gave each other worried looks, unsure what to say. Logan swallowed what was in his mouth to speak to his mother properly.

“We thought these were for us.” He said. Chad swallowed next so he could interject.

“Yeah, aren’t these supposed to be for the party?”

Brooke huffed and stamped her hoof on the ground. “Of course they are, but they’re for the guests, not you three!” Trey was the last to empty his mouth.

“We’re sorry. We didn’t know.” He apologized. The three looked down shamefully, upset that they’d let their mother down. Brooke watched their eyes fall to the floor, all unable to look at her. Her mouth quirked to the side, and her eyelids sunk, looking upon her three regretful daughters. What would she do with these girls of hers? She supposed it was as good a time as any for another one of her lessons. She needed to whip these cows of hers into shape again. They’d been so rowdy and unkempt as of late.

She would surely set them straight.

“A polite daughter always asks before taking,” Brooke said, her tone returning to its usual doting pep. “Say it with me now.” She began repeating the phrase. The others continued looking down as they followed along.

“A polite daughter always asks before taking.” All four said. Brooke put a lot more emotion into her rendition than the others. The daughters’ repetition of the mantra came out more as murmurs. Brooke crossed her arms under her ample breasts.

“What has gotten into you three? You used to repeat your mantras with cheer.”

“Sorry, Mother,” Trey replied, fiddling with his hands. “We just feel so bad about eating all your cookies. They were so delicious. You must have put so much work into them, and now they’re all gone because we got greedy.” Tears gathered in her eyes the more she spoke. The other two shared misty eyes. Chad sniffled and whipped her big nose.

Brooke took a deep breath and sighed. She reached behind her back and untied the knot holding the straps of her apron together. The apron came loose and draped off her bosom. Brooke reached up and pulled the article off, looping it over her horns. Her daughters watched her undress, unsure what would happen next. What was she planning? Would she beat their bottoms sore with a wooden spoon? Would she bend them over her knee and spank them? Their minds raced with possibilities as Brooke hung her apron up and stepped toward them, her hips swaying and her hooves clopping.

“A caring mother is firm while retaining a soft touch,” She said, nearing Trey. She nestled close to the half-transformed cow, taking up her spot beside her. Brooke’s hand extended behind Trey, taking a firm yet soft hold of the girl’s cushioned bottom. Trey gasped in surprise.

“Oh! Momma!” She yelped. “What kind of lesson is this?!”

“A proper lesson,” Brooke slyly replied. “So you three may remember what it is to be proper ladies.” Brooke pulled in even closer to Trey, her free hand reaching up and falling upon Trey’s breasts. She kneaded her large furry hand into Trey’s bosom. Trey looked into her mother’s eyes, her eyelids sagging as the initial shock eased into a tingling pleasure. Brooke returned her gaze with a sultry confidence. “Repeat after me, dear.” She said, pausing to clear her throat. “A polite daughter always asks before taking.” Trey swallowed a lump in her throat before replying.

“A-… A polite daughter always asks before taking.” Trey gingerly replied.

“Very good.” Brooke praised, doting her girl. She pinched the hardened nub protruding from Trey’s shirt. A surprised moan burst forth from Trey’s muzzle, and the cow girl giggled, feeling a resounding crack in her muzzle as it grew longer. “Now say it again.”

“A polite daughter always asks before taking,” Trey repeated. Her voice pitched further up as she spoke, and her tone became cheerful and bubbly.

“Good girl,” Brooke praised again. “That’s the Tracie I know.”

Tracie giggled at the mention of her name. Brooke leaned into the girl and gave her face a loving lick, flicking it sensually on the upturn.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Tracie said. Brooke gave her rear a playful smack and withdrew, turning to the others.

“Let’s say it together now, girls.” Brooke insisted. Logan and Chad shuffled in place and repeated what their mother had just gone over with Tracie.

“A polite daughter always asks before taking.” They replied, their voices less than in sync.

“Very good.” Brooke praised. She stepped closer to Logan’s side. It was her turn to remember one of their mantras.

Brooke wrapped her arm around Logan’s pinched waist, getting a handful of her next daughter’s wide hips while pulling her closer. She pulled Logan in until the girl’s shoulder was wedged between her hefty breasts. Her free hand gripped Logan’s thigh. Brooke gave it a good squeeze, eliciting a sharp gasp from her girl. That hand came dangerously close to her groin, and it made the daughter cow incredibly nervous. Nervous, or…excitement, perhaps?

“An obedient daughter always listens to her mother,” Brooke said, her voice somewhat flustered this time. Her warm breath spilled over Logan’s muzzled face as she spoke. Her grip tightened on Logan’s leg again, and Logan whimpered, staring back into her mother’s sultry gaze. “Say it, dear. Be a good girl for mommy.”

Logan swallowed a lump and inhaled. “A-An obedient daughter, uh, always listens to her mother,” she managed to stammer out. Brooke tittered and sighed.

“I know you can say it better than that, dear. Again. This time with heart.” Brooke’s hand inched up Logan’s thigh, centimeters from the girl’s crotch. Logan’s heart raced in reaction to her mother’s touch. She cleared her throat and spoke again, taking care to annunciate her words.

“An obedient daughter always listens to her mother,” she said, her voice rising in pitch as she spoke. Something profound and compounding popped inside her mind, changing her whole personality and attitude like a switch being flicked. Her face also popped, growing further, her muzzle reaching its apex length.

“Very good, Lola. That’s the obedient girl I know.” Brooke praised. She leaned in and gave Lola’s face a long, sensual lick. Lola giggled, but her giggles were cut short by a surprised moan. Brooke’s hand had finally fallen between Lola’s legs, the mother cow’s fingers curling into the soft mound they found there as they gripped the fabric of Lola’s stretched jeans.

“M-mother!” Lola yelped. Brooke’s muzzle inched close to Lola’s ear so she could whisper.

“That’a girl. We’ll have you mooing in no time.” Her other hand abandoned Lola’s waist and traveled up to the brown cow’s floppy mohawk, stroking over it to pet the girl. Brooke observed the pigmentation of Lola’s skin turning brown, like her hair. A fine layer of bovine fur pushed through the pores of her skin, and Lola scratched at the tingling, fuzzy sensation. “Looks like you won’t be needing these pesky clothes any longer, my dear.” She teased. The mama cow then gave Lola a parting lick and withdrew from her.

She turned to Tracie, whose skin had taken on an orangish, tawny hue. Tracie scratched at the fur sprouting all over her body, already stripping her t-shirt off and kicking away her runners, clopping on the hardwood floor with her new hooves.

“There we go, girls, much better. Just like Tracie, here. Get those clothes off so we can begin mending what’s been broken like a perfect family should.” She turned to Chad, who was struggling to get her tight shirt over her enormous breasts. “Oh, dear. Do you need some help?” She asked, approaching the white and blue pelted girl with a doting smile.

“Yes, mother,” Chad replied bashfully. Brooke took the lower hem of Chad’s shirt and pulled upward, tugging over Chad’s vast bosom.

“Raise your arms, dear.” Brooke crooned. Chad did as asked and raised her arms. Brooke pulled the nearly tearing fabric inside out as she yanked it off her daughter. The collar got stuck on her horns. Chad blushed and looked away from her, embarrassed by her situation. Brooke *tsk*ed and stepped to Chad’s side, taking the collar in both hands and pulling it apart. “Don’t look so bashful, dear; every cow needs a little help once in a while.” The fabric tore until it was nearly in half. Then Brooke removed the ruined garment with a pleased sigh.

“There we go, all better, dear.”

Brooke dropped the fabric, giving her blushing cow a look over. Chad’s proto muzzle was flush pink. Brooke thought it adorable and leaned in to give Chad a peck on the cheek. Brooke’s kiss only made the sheepish cow blush harder, and she looked away with a warm smile stretched across her muzzle.

“You’re so cute when you blush, dear. It shows so plainly through that white pelt of yours.” She took Chad’s chin between her finger and thumb, turning the girl’s head toward hers. “A loving daughter always returns her mother’s affections.” She said softly, gently, and tenderly, like only a mother could. She pulled Chad’s muzzle towards hers, and the two closed their eyes as their lips met. Tracie and Lola watched them in fascination, shuffling in place as their loins stirred, noticing how Brooke’s free hand ventured downward to briefly stroke Chad’s ample rear, teasing her before transitioning to her tail. When Brooke broke their embrace, she spoke again, looking into Chad’s half-lidded eyes. “That’s my pretty little Chastity. Always Mommy’s good girl, always returning Mommy’s affections.”

Chastity’s muzzle cracked as it filled out, finalizing its broad bovine shape. She giggled and brought her hands to her nose, stroking the ridge of her snout as the sensations tickled her there. “A loving daughter always returns her mother’s affections.” Chastity cheerfully repeated. Brooke’s hand reached down and undid the button of Chastity’s jeans, the button nearly bursting from her expanded hips size. Once her fly was open, Brooke yanked the cow’s pants down, along with her boxer briefs, revealing Chastity’s white, finely furred legs along with all their dark blue splotches. Chastity stepped out of the pants hanging around her ankles, and her new hooves clopped on the floor.

All four of them were now nude. Brooke looked around at her three calves, all looking at their mother with admiration and devotion. Their tails swung lazily behind them, flicking as their eyes flickered over their mother’s body. She returned their looks, admiring the beautiful girls that she made. She figured it was time they all made something together as a loving family.

“You girls let your sweet tooths get the better of you, and now we have no cookies to serve our guests.” She said, placing her hands on her hips. The girls looked away guiltily, shuffling their hooves.

“We’re sorry, mother,” Lola murmured. “How can we ever make it up to you?” Brooke shot her a sly smile. Her eyes darted between her daughters. An idea ‘cooked’ inside her head, a genius, lascivious idea. She stifled her smile and straightened up.

“I think it’s time I showed you three how your mother makes the delicious treats she bakes.” The others looked up, their faces brightening.

“You will?!” Chastity asked.

“Of course I will, my dear,” Brooke replied. “Why shouldn’t I? What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t share my secrets with my daughters?”

“What secrets, mama?” Tracie asked. Brooke barely contained her excited grin.

“Go lean your cute little butt against the counter, there, and I’ll show you.” Brooke gestured with an open hand to the counter where she’d made her treats earlier. Tracie clopped over to the counter and turned, leaning her rump against its edge. Brooke wriggled her hand back and forth at Tracie’s thighs. “Now open those legs up a little for Mommy.”

“Okay, mama,” Tracie replied. She obeyed, spreading her legs a little more, exposing her slick, pink pussy to the room.

“Perfect.” Brooke praised. “Now let Mommy show you how she gets her sweets to taste so…intimate.”

Brooke stepped to Tracie, her hooves clopping on the hardwood. She eased in close to her, pressing her crotch into the girl’s hip. Her left hand wrapped around Tracie’s shoulder and combed through her thick, auburn mane. Her other hand dove right between the cow’s legs, swooping upward, her fingers diving into Tracie’s pussy.

“Oh! Mother!” Tracie cried, unexpecting such a sudden assault on her nethers. As unexpected as it was, it was far from unwanted. Her mother had experienced fingers, and the older cow knew precisely how to use them. “Oh! I had no idea your baking involved so much affection!” Brooke leaned in and stole a hungry, open-mouthed kiss from the girl, then parted as quickly as she started.

“A loving daughter always returns her mother’s affections, Tracie.” She mentioned breathily, urging the younger cow on with her yearning tone.

“Yes, Mother,” Tracie replied, her hand traveling downward to give Brooke’s snatch the same attention she received. “A loving daughter always returns her mother’s affections.” She said, repeating the mantra. Her fingers sunk into Brooke’s folds, and the elder cow released a sensual moo.

“That’a girl. Get me all worked up, and I’ll do just the same for you. We can’t add ‘Mama’s secret ingredient’ without getting soaking wet first.”

“Y-yes, Mother.” Tracie whimpered, feeling every twitch and tug of Brooke’s expert fingertips. Brooke looked past her huffing calf and addressed her other daughters. The two looked on lustfully, nibbling fingernails and fidgeting with their long tails.

“You two do the same. Get yourselves nice and juicy. We’ll need every drop you’ve got.” She gave them a wink and gripped Tracie’s mane, pulling the girl’s head downward to her expansive chest. She leaned over for a moment and whispered into Tracie’s flickering ear. “Drink all you want, sweetie. Mama’s got more than enough for our recipe. Tracie’s lips locked around her mother’s pink teat and suckled, hungry for the sweet milk inside. The creamy strawberry flavor flooded her mouth, igniting her tastebuds, simultaneously producing the same reaction in her loins, igniting a fiery lecherousness within her. Brooke tilted her head back and sighed, reveling the sensations besetting her bovine form.

Lola and Chastity looked at each other, wanting to feel what the other two felt, wanting to assist their mother in the ‘baking process.’ Their eyes flittered over the other’s body. “A kind daughter always helps her sisters,” Lola said, her voice dripping with a burning desire. Chastity fluttered her eyelashes at the girl.

“A happy daughter extends her joy to all her family,” Chastity replied, her phrase speaking wanting words not needed between the two. They both knew what they required, and, with a few steps of their hooves in the other’s direction, could take all they wanted, giving all the while.

The girls stepped to one another, wasting no more time. They grabbed hold of each other in a ferocious, passionate embrace, their fingers grasping desperately at their other sister’s curves and contours, feeling each other’s shape, then seeking out places of pleasure. They couldn’t wait to devour each other until the time came to join with their mother.

Their muzzles locked together, their tongues intertwining like ravenous vines. Lola’s hands squeezed Chastity’s plump rear, the blue and white cow squealing delightfully into her sister’s oral embrace. The brown cow’s one hand gripped the base of Chastity’s tail, the other dipping below, down past her puckered hole and into the glistening crevasse beyond. Chastity’s squeals became soft moans, and she reached down Lola’s navel region, the tip of her sizable middle finger brushing over her sister’s clit before dipping into her folds.

“Mmmm, Chastity!” Lola cried, breaking their kiss. “Such an affectionate sister you are!” Chastity clung to her sister’s shoulder while arching her back, further exposing herself so Lola could plunge deeper into her dripping snatch. Lola rocked her hips in time with each thrust of Chastity’s digits. With their heads turned down, the two breathed hot and heavy breaths over the other’s chest, eyeing the ample cushions hanging off of them, swaying with each movement they made as they eagerly played with each other’s pussies.

“I… I wanna taste you, sister.” Lola breathed. Chastity puffed an exasperated laugh.

“Like, which part of me?” She asked. Lola giggled.

“I think you know, silly. I wanna sample that sweet blueberry milk of yours.” Her bubbly words quivered with a lascivious hunger. Chastity sighed and stuck out her chest.

“A kind daughter always helps her sisters.” She said. A warm smile spread over Lola’s muzzle. The two shared a moment of tender, sibling compassion before Lola pulled her fingers from Chastity’s pussy and placed her hands on her sister’s hips, preparing to drink as greedily as she could. Her lips fell upon Chastity’s waiting tit, and the brown cow drew in her sister’s warm, blueberry milk. The fruity taste washed over Lola’s tongue, and she mooed happily into her sister’s hefty breast flesh. Chastity threw her head back and let out a pleasure-laden moo of her own.

Meanwhile, at the counter, Tracie had switched to Brooke’s other breast, feeding avidly, never getting enough of the strawberry milk gushing into her maw. Brooke loved the feeling of being well milked and having that milking drawn by the very lips of one of her daughters. It filled her with such joy. But why should Tracie get to fill her belly? Surly, a mother was entitled to the fruits of her loins?

Brooke pulled her calf off her breast. The tawny cow stared up at her mother with the drooping eyes of a drunk. “It’s time for you to share, dear. Mama gets her fill, too.” Tracie gazed down at Brooke’s fuzzy breasts again, like she might dive in again and continue feeding. Brooke would set her straight. “An obedient daughter always listens to her mother.” Brooke reminded, flashing her a coy smile. Tracie blinked and shook her head, those words breaking the trance of her mother’s flavor. She took a deep breath, burped a little, then giggled, placing a hand to her muzzle.

“Yes, Mother.” She replied, regaining control of herself. Brooke’s smile widened, showing some teeth as she admired her strong girl.

“Good girl, Tracie. Now, hop up on that counter. I could use a little pumpkin spice in my life right now.” Tracie giggled again.

“An obedient daughter always listens to her mother,” Tracie said joyfully. She placed her hands on the counter and hoisted herself, planting her ample rear on the flat surface. Brooke helped her up, holding her hips as she lifted. Tracie swooned at her mother’s touch.

“Very good girl.” Brooke praised. “Looks like someone is remembering her place.” Tracie flashed Brooke a sheepish smile, blushing under her fine facial fur.

“Of course, mama. A perfect daughter, like, always knows her place.” She batted her eyelashes at the older cow, and Brooke shot her a cheeky smirk.

“Well, aren’t you a sweet little pastry?” Her eyes fell upon Tracie’s extensive, furry mounds. “Let’s see if your milk is just as sweet.”

Brooke stepped between her daughter’s splayed legs to the counter’s edge. She leaned toward the cow and wrapped her arms around her back, pulling Tracie closer. Her head craned downward, and her lips landed on those amber, tawny tits, sucking the supple pink flesh of Tracie’s nipple.

The spicy, sweet taste of cinnamon and pumpkin filled her mouth, sparking alight the pleasure synapses in her brain. She fed greedily from her calf, swallowing whole mouthfuls at a time. It tasted divine, and Brooke was proud that one of her daughters could produce something so tasty as to rival her milk. It would make Tracie’s baking something unique, all its own, and she couldn’t wait to see what Tracie, Chastity, and Lola would make. Her left hand abandoned Tracie’s back, and she lowered it between her legs instead. Her daughter’s milk tasted so good she simply couldn’t help herself. She needed to get sweet little Tracie off. It was an essential part of her baking process, indeed.

A *pop* emitted from Brooke’s lips as she let go of Tracie’s teat. “You taste amazing, my dear.” She breathed, unable to draw much breath during her feeding frenzy. “Out of this world, in fact. You’re going to be such a good baker.”

“Of c-course, Mamma.” Tracie huffed. Brooke stroked her fingers along Tracie’s hip and slipped it between the calf’s thighs, drawing it forward until they entered Tracie’s slick hole. A translucent puddle was already messing the counter beneath her, and Brooke’s fingers slid inside with ease. Tracie moaned. “Oh! Momma!”

“A perfect mother provides for all her children,” Brooke murmured, bringing her mouth to Tracie’s other nipple.

A moan emanated from behind them. It was Lola. The brown cow had switched spots with her sister, and now, it was Chastity’s turn to sample her sister’s flavor. The creamy, chocolaty flavor cascaded over Chastity’s broad tongue while Lola voiced her approval through mewls and moans. She gripped her sister’s horns, pulling her in and ensuring she fed long and well.

“Yeah, sis. Drink, like, all you can take. Taste me again and again!” Lola cried. She let go of one of Chastity’s horns and brought her hand low, her fingers probing her drooling pussy lips. This was all so exciting, and she couldn’t help but add to the pleasure being lavished on her chest.

Chastity was a step ahead of her. Her fingers were already plunged deep inside her own snatch, cramming her love tunnel full of those slender digits. The sensation coursing through either cow felt divine. However, Chastity knew their pleasure could extend past simple masturbation and breastfeeding. There were other places on their bodies they could be tasting. She smiled, thinking herself most clever.

Chastity pulled herself off Lola’s teat despite Lola’s forceful grip. Lola insisted her sister continue tending to her bosom with a firm hand pressed against her scalp. When Chastity finally freed herself from Lola’s grasp, it was accompanied by a groan from the brown cow.

“Sister! Like, I was almost theeeere!” she objected. “A kind daughter always helps her sisters!” She shot Chastity a glare. Chastity knitted her brow and gave Lola a reassuring smile.

“But sister, I, like, have an idea!” Chastity said. Lola snorted.

“Like, what is it, Chastity?” Lola sneered. “I’ll have you know I was, like, this close to cumming.” She brought her finger and thumb together to present a visual to her sister. Chastity just giggled and shot the cow a cheeky grin.

“I know how we can cum even faster and harder.” She said, tail swaying happily. “And, like, this way, we can still taste each other, too!”

Lola tapped her hoof. “You mean, like, go down on each other?” Chastity’s tail stopped swaying. Perhaps she wasn’t as clever as she thought.

“Uh… Yeah.” Chastity replied. Lola shrugged her shoulders.

“Fine, whatever. But I get my turn with Mother after this.”

Brooke’s mouth popped free from Tracie’s breast to reply, fingers still deep inside her daughter.

“What are we forgetting, dear?” Brooke asked her daughter. She’d been listening to the two talk and found Lola’s sudden attitude change most unladylike. “You girls have been forgetting that particular mantra a lot tonight.” Lola grunted and stamped her hoof.

“A polite daughter always asks before taking.” She said reluctantly, pausing before adding. “Can I, like, please feed from you next, Mother?” Brooke let out an exasperated sigh.

“Alright, I suppose you can, dear.” She huffed at the young cow and returned her attention to Traice. Now, leave me to your sister and go eat out Chastity. She’s been a very good girl and deserves some attention. Show each other some attention like the loving siblings you are, and you may both drink from Mommy’s bosom.”

“Yes, Mommy,” Chastity said, giggling.

“Yes, Mother,” Lola grumbled, crossing her arms. Chastity sprung for the kitchen table, turning before sitting upon it, then laying across its surface on her back. A beaming smile split her muzzled face all the while, and she massaged her two massive chest pillows as she awaited her sister.

Lola grudgingly clopped around the table to the side closest to Chastity’s head. She looked down at her sister, answering Chastity’s goofy smile with a scowl. “You, like, better make me cum, Chass, or no more chocolate milk for you.”

“Oh, like, don’t even worry about it, sis,” Chastity replied. “I’ll, like, totally make sure you get there.” There was a sultry gleam in her eyes now, like she dared Lola to give her access to her womanhood.

Lola climbed up on the table and crawled over the brown cow. She stared down at her sister’s glistening cooch and almost dove right in, but something stopped her. An idea. It was an idea that split Lola’s muzzle with a wide grin. Lola rose onto her knees, hovering her rear over her dear sister. Then, she sat right on poor Chastity’s face.

The blue and white cow had no time to react. Her muzzle was immediately wedged between Lola’s cheeks and thighs. Lola’s pussy compressed against her nose and mouth, barely giving her room to breathe. Chastity tried to yelp in surprise, but Lola’s beefy ass smothered her like a fuzzy pillow. Lola felt her sister’s every reaction against her sex. She let out a breathy giggle. “There you go, sis, eat up!” She teased with a cheer, gyrating her hips over Chastity’s snout. To her surprise, the girl started licking her, and Lola’s tittering was cut short, only to be replaced by sharp gasps of pleasure.

“Oh! Chas… Oh, you’re, like…actually really good at this!” She admitted. She began rocking her hips in rhythm with Chastity’s tongue, murmuring low moans and soft coos. She gazed down at her sister’s unattended pussy and suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Chastity was so eager to please her, and in return, she was being such a…well…a cow back to her. She ruminated on her selfish behavior, and one of her mantras came to mind again.

“A kind daughter always helps her sisters.” She murmured, beginning to sink down toward her sister’s crotch. Chastity’s gleaming pussy lips took up more and more of her vision until Lola shut her eyes, letting her sense of touch and taste take over. Her tongue slipped from her mouth, and the tangy taste of Chastity’s snatch spread over her tastebuds. She pressed the oral appendage further into Chastity’s folds. Her sister moaned into the enclosed space around her snout, telling Lola her work was much appreciated.

“A happy daughter extends her joy to all her family.” Lola thought and continued licking.

A resounding cry of ecstasy bellowed from across the room. Lola and Chastity’s bovine ears twitched at the shrill sound. Brooke had finally finger fucked and titty-sucked Tracie to completion, all the while drinking a heaping share of her daughter’s pumpkin-spiced milk. The tawny cow’s legs quivered and shook, as did the arms propping her up behind her. The puddle between her legs grew three times in size as she unleashed her feminine juices. It dribbled onto the floor and began a new puddle there.

“Good girl, Tracie.” Brooke crooned, releasing her mouth from the girl’s teat. “Let’s not waste too much of that delicious fluid, though. It’s an important ingredient in your mother’s baking.”

“Y-yes, m-mama,” Tracie replied. The quiver shaking her body jostled her voice as much as her limbs. Brooke straightened up and placed a sticky hand on Tracie’s face.

“Why don’t you rest for a moment, then grab a few bowls from the drying rack? You can prepare by collecting all the sweet nectar you just made.” Tracie nodded lazily and placed her hand on the one stroking her cheek. Brooke gave her a warm smile. “Good girl. Now. I’m going to tend to your sisters, okay?”

“A perfect mother provides for all her children. Right, mama?” Tracie quipped. Brooke chuckled and let her hand slip from Tracie’s face.

“Very good,” Brooke replied. “You’re learning well, my dear. Soon, you’ll be ready for some calves of your own.” Tracie returned Brooke’s warm smile with her own.

“Thanks, Mama. I can’t wait to be a great mother like you.”

Brooke patted Tracie’s thigh. “Alright, you. Start prepping the cookies, and we’ll join you in a jiffy.”

Tracie nodded and slid off the counter as Brooke turned and sauntered to the island. Brooke took the edge facing her two other daughters and hoisted herself onto its surface, its structure creaking under her mass. She watched the two tongue-please each other, lost in their own little world as they ate away, putting their necks into it. As she observed their sisterly romp, pleasant whimpers and coos floated into Brooke’s ears. How kindly they were treating each other, how sweet. It would appear that the two had made up. They’d definitely earned their turn on her teats.

“Oh, girls!” Brooke crooned. The two cows on the kitchen table looked up, Chastity craning her head to see past Lola’s legs. Brooke gestured to her bountiful bosom with both hands, showing them off like they were a game show prize. “I think it’s your turn to have a taste.”

Chastity and Lola looked at each other momentarily, sharing excited looks. They shuffled off each other, climbing down from the table, their whimpers and coos replaced by titters and giggles. They trotted up to Brooke, their hooves clopping on the hardwood, gazing hungrily at Brooke’s chest. Brooke held out a hand to stop them, and the two skidded to a halt.

“Now, you two remember to share, okay?” Brooke said. The two looked away, shuffling in place and fidgeting with their hands. Shy smiles of anticipation brightened their faces.

“Okay, momma,” Chastity replied.

“Y-yes, mother,” Lola added

Brooke dropped her hand and placed both under her breast, hefting them closer to their faces. She pushed her chest out for her calves. The two licked their lips and gazed at their mother’s bounty with wide eyes and dilated pupils.

“An obedient daughter always listens to her mother,” Chastity murmured.

“A happy daughter extends her joy to all her family.” Lola breathed. Brooke chuckled.

“You two are such good girls. Now… It’s feeding time.”

The two girls jumped to it, each taking a side of their mother. Lola on the right, and Chastity on the left. They craned their heads downward and planted their lips on her teats, sucking eagerly, drawing Brooke’s milk into their maws with everything they had. The strawberry flavor hit their tongues, and they shivered with pleasure. The milk’s taste alone made them wetter than a Seattle winter. So intense was their arousal it humidified the space between their thighs and matted their fur.

Brooke closed her eyes and sighed happily, enjoying the sensation of having both her tits stimulated at once. Her daughters drank plentifully, and soon enough, Brooke felt the soggy bump and grind of their cunts against her knees. They were so excited, and so was she. She figured she could give the two a little extra for being such good girls and learning to work together.

Brooke reached around the two and pressed on the small of their backs, drawing them closer to her and arching their backs. She then slid her hands down their furry backs, reaching their tails, then the cleft of their cute behinds. Her fingers dipped into the crevasses of their asses and felt for those slick, previously-licked holes. The texture of abundant moisture on her fingertips and the surprised coos emitted from them let Brooke know she had her fingers where they needed to be. Knowing she’d struck the sweet spot, she hooked her digits into them and pressed forward, penetrating them both.

“Oh, Mother!” Lola squealed, taking her mouth off Brooke to vocalize the welcome surprise. Chastity did the same.

“Mama! You’re so good to your little girls!”

Brooke chuckled and sighed contently. “A caring mother is firm while retaining a soft touch,” she said, plunging her fingers deeper into her calves. The two girls squealed with delight and lovingly coiled their tails together. They went back to Brooke’s breasts, ravenously feasting on her milk supply as Brooke fingered them like a pair of musical instruments. Their moans and mewls definitely sounded like music to Brooke.

“You two cows save some milk for the cookies. We can’t make a batch of your mother’s utterly good cookies without its strawberry flavor, can we?”

“No, Mama,” Chastity replied.

“No, Mother,” Lola added.

The two feverously ground their clits against Brooke’s legs, matting the older cow’s fur. Brooke fingered their holes laboriously. The two withdrew from Brooke’s chest, their breath hot and heavy. They looked at each other as they embraced their mother.

“A loving daughter always returns her mother’s affections.” Lola huffed. Chastity giggled.

“You’re right, sister. A loving daughter always returns her mother’s affections.” She moaned as Brooke’s fingers pressed on her g-spot, then giggled. “Let’s return her affections.”

The two moved as one, both extending their hands between Brooke’s beefy thighs, seeking out the glistening prize tickling their noses with its feminine musk. Their palms met, fingers aligning. They pressed forward, reaching the moist hole they’d both entered the world from. Their digits sunk into Brooke’s motherly folds, probing her entrance. Brooke gasped.

“Oh, you two… Oh! Such caring daughters I have. What a lucky lady I am to have you both.” She closed her eyes and let out a sensual moo before addressing Tracie, still sorting ingredients. “Tracie, dear. Can you grab a bowl for your sisters, if you don’t mind? We’ll need their very ‘special’ ingredients for our cookies. Just like yours.” Tracy looked over from her task. She’d nearly laid everything out for the baking.

“Yes, Mommy,” She said, giggling. She removed her fingers from her drooling pussy and grabbed an extra bowl from a cupboard. She moved behind her sisters and crouched down, preparing to catch their ‘essence’ once they climaxed. She could tell by how their legs quivered that it wouldn’t be much longer.

“Perhaps you could help me finish them off while you’re down there?” Brooke suggested. Tracie nodded, and Brooke withdrew her fingers from her daughters before planting them back in from their front sides.

“A kind daughter always helps her sisters.” She mentioned, then planted her muzzle in Chastity’s ass, working her tongue over her puckered hole.

“Oh, Tracie…” Chastity moaned. “Yeah, just like that…” Chastity closed her eyes and focused on keeping rhythm with Lola’s fingers while succumbing to the pleasures spreading through her curvy body. Tracie’s tongue slipped into her back end, and something beautiful suddenly blossomed within Chastity. An overwhelming surge of bliss came over the white and blue cow. Her legs quivered in place; her moans caught in her throat. She buckled under the many sensations electrifying her body.

She came hard in her mother’s arms, gushing into Tracie’s bowl, crying out past Brooke’s bovine ear. A satisfied grin spread across Brooke’s muzzle, for she knew she’d helped her daughter feel sublime.

“Ahhh! Ohhhhh!” Chastity belted out. “I’m a happy daughter, and I love my family!” She shrieked as her orgasm reached its crescendo, then fell silent as her lovers slowed their lascivious actions, puffing as she strained to regain her breath.

“Good, girl,” Brooke whispered into Chastity’s ear. Tracie pulled her thick tongue from her sister’s ass and giggled to herself.

“I’m that good, huh?” she teased. Tracie looked down at the small pool that had gathered in her bowl. It smelled like musky blueberry. She then eyed Lola with a sideways glance. “I wonder what kind of sounds Lola makes when I do that?”

“Better hurry up and find out, dear.” Brooke dotingly urged.

“Of course, Mommy,” Tracie replied, giggling to herself as she hobbled on her knees before Lola’s firm ass, dodging her sister’s swaying tail. She hovered her bowl between Lola’s spread legs and caught a dribbling drop of the girl’s arousal. “Already so wet,” Tracie commented. “I bet we’ll get even more out of you than we did Chas’.”

Lola had no time to reply, for Tracie swiftly planted her muzzle between her firm cheeks and pushed her broad tongue deep inside her hole. Lola mooed at the unexpected rush of added sensation. “Oh, fuck, Tracie! Yeah! Get in there deep!” She cried.

“Lola, watch your language!” Brooke chided, frowning. Lola blushed as much in embarrassment as arousal.

“Sorry m-mother,” She hastily apologized, voice wavering with pleasure. Her apology was punctuated by a strained moan as Tracie’s tongue curled and wriggled inside her ass. Lola’s legs grew weak, and her knees quivered. Pleasure sprung from so many places across her body; her puckering hole, her sopping sex, her erect nipples as Brooke’s free hand tweaked and tugged. She tingled all over, all the sass gone from her voice as she moaned again and again, right on the cusp of climax.

“Cum for us, Lola. Be a good girl and contribute to the recipe.” Brooke whispered into her ear.

“M-mother!” She cried, her body shaking as it was sent over the edge of orgasm. Her knees locked as her legs seized. Tracie continued her tongue’s assault on her booty and wedged the bowl up between Lola’s thighs, forcing her to spread. Lola let out a resounding moo and came, unleashing a torrent of femcum into the bowl. It spattered over her leg fur and Tracie’s chest. Lola ground her pussy against Brooke’s fingers, riding wave after wave of euphoria, adding twice the juices Chastity had to the mixture.

When Lola could no longer handle the sensations rocking her tight, bovine body, she jerked away from Brooke. Tracie was sent backward, toppling onto her rear.

“Woah!” she yelped, clutching the bowl close to her person and tilting it upward to prevent any of the musky mixture within from spilling. Lola grasped the counter’s edge tight with a shaky hand and pulled her shivering form to it, turning and leaning against it for support. Brooke looked around at her calves; all three of them looked spent. They panted in the afterglow of their ‘family bonding.’ Brooke allowed them a minute to catch their breath.

“I think we have enough to begin, my beautiful daughters.” She announced. “Shall I teach you the ways of baking? If you have the energy, of course.”

“Yes, mama.” Tracie hurriedly agreed.

“Yes, Mommy,” Chastity said, giggling as she placed a hand on her chest.

“Yes, mother,” Lola added with a final puff of breath. She clung to the Island counter with both hands, some of her brown hair hanging in thin strands before her face.

“Good,” Brooke said. She shifted off the counter and dropped her hooves onto the floor with a hearty *clop!*. The sound snapped the others to attention, and they followed her to the counter where Tracie had laid everything out.

Lola and Chastity helped Tracie off the floor, then gathered around and watched as Brooke showed them what to do and what to use. The four cows poured, stirred, and mixed. Tracie helped Chastity add her blueberry-flavoured milk to her batter, massaging her bountiful breasts from behind. “A kind daughter always helps her sisters.” She whispered into her sister’s ear.

Brooke did the same to Lola, except she crept a hand down the brown cow’s navel, her fingers delicately dipping into her sex. “We’ll need a little more of your lady juices if we are to complete our recipe.” She murmured into Lola’s ear. “And I know you make the most.” Lola mooed happily alongside Chastity, the two girls eagerly accepting the love of their family.

A lot of love would be baked into their cookies that night, each taking a turn with their own batch while the others ‘assisted’ them. It was necessary because Brooke, more experienced than any of her cows, knew that no batch of her delicious homemade cookies was complete without a heaping helping of love for one’s family.