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…big arms, a heavy cock, pulling at the teats. He's about to cum. So am I. So close, so close, so close, so

“Hah!" Tav woke up with a start. His dream of being back in Morth's arms shattered upon the solid floor of a rising sun. He squinted his eyes and lifted his hand to shield himself from the incoming rays. What time is it? How long was I asleep? There wasn't much time to dote on the question before a wet squish brought him back to reality. Looking down at his nude body he saw how much the udder had grown overnight. All semblance to a round shape had melted into a globular muffin top which sat atop his belly like a half deflated beach ball. The skin, once so dainty and pink, was sullied by a storm of thin veins stretched to the surface and forced to meander. The teats had bloated into fat sausages with puffy ducts each gurgling free a solid river of ivory in opposite directions like some grisly compass. A great throbbing ticked at each nipple and visibly pulsed forth those milky streams.

“Noooooooooo…" Tav dared to lay his hands on his udder and immediately regretted it. The whole thing sank in like a squeeze bag, making the teats snap at attention. There was a harmonious hiss of four milk streamers squirting out of him in high arcing torrents, each one cresting into a fan of white droplets that tap danced on the floor on both sides of the bed. The resulting mess would've thrown him into a panic if not for the wave of ecstasy which bloomed from his squirting nipples. “Huhhhhhh~!" His head was tossed backwards, the spit-threaded inner pink of his maw shining in an erotic O-shape. A spasm in his core and thighs made his legs fly open, splaying his cloaca and the fat, gnarly cunt just inside it. The mercilessly swollen vulva bulged out with an involuntary flex, sighing forth a gargantuan heat and letting free a small surge of pussy phlegm. The underside of his tail was soaked in it, the remnants of his lover's seed from last night having been washed away since.

Tav rattled the bed with his spasms, unable to halt the billowing pleasure even after his hands had come off the udder to grip the sheets for dear life. His sharp tipped dragon tongue lolled out of his mouth. “Huhhh! Huhhh! Huhhh!" The pleasure center of his brain was torn in two by the claws of two parts of him: his leaking udder, and his heat-gasming pussy. They both screamed for his attention, turned into the bluest shade of denial, but he simply could not make the proper move to touch either spot before the other.

He took the simplest option and went for both. One paw flew from the sheet and clamped onto the nearest teat. The milky stream squirting from it snapped into an erect line that zipped high into the air and whipped the yonder wall with its falling droplets. It would intensify with his sharp jerks and squeezes. Sst. Sst. Sst. Sst. Sst. Soon the wood panels were dripping with milk, each one looking like a strip from a Pollockian masterpiece.

The other hand had already dove to the knuckle in Tav's cunt, parting those ungodly lips with all four fingers. The squelch and squish was beyond rude, that and the grisly inner pink that would flash with the rowdy sweep of his fingers. More of that raunchy sex liqueur came oozing free, now built into a froth atop his tail and on his brutally flexing hand. Hooking and curling against his clit would bring an irresistible claw of delight up his core and inner thighs, raking those fine and intricate muscles with a spasm that had him doing half crunches.

His body was in the most wonderful of fires, the heat billowing from both yawning orifices, the one that squelched and squirted as well as the one that moaned and gasped. “Hahhh! Huhhhh! Ahhhhhhhh~!" The smells billowed off him in a cloud which fogged the window and melted the mattress. Each moan came with a raspy exhale followed by a whimper and usually a snarl. The eyes floated aimlessly, all sense and perception burned out of him by stoking his womanhood and bailing his mammary.

And it still wasn't enough. One teat could not unload the weight of his udder quickly enough, nor could one hand bring him to orgasm quickly enough. He made an ambidextrous effort to pull at two nipples and quickly had that corresponding wall painted in his milk, but the absence in his cloaca built into an awful throb, protest for having been abandoned so egregiously. When that became too much to handle he returned to it with both hands. In coordination with the assault on his clit was the middle and ring finger of the other hand diving in just behind to angrily drag at the spongy girl spot. That was like being properly fucked, and thus Tav's moans ascended into a volume similar to last night's. “HUHHHH! HUHHHH! OHHHHHHHH~!"

But the udder could not be abandoned so soon. The two teats became like pinpricks of pain as the buildup of milk pressed into the sensitive ducts to create an excruciating bottleneck. They would not go unattended so easily, just as his cunny had proven. It created a delicate balancing act, one between his gushing cunt and squirting udder. Using both hands to help one organ would neglect the other while using one hand on each did not adequately satisfy either. Tav was left to moan, whimper, squeal, and squirt amidst a pit of ecstasy-misery, all of which had built into a soaking miasma of coppery bodily fluids now puddled on the floor and leaking through the cracks. It was one way or the other. Masturbate to completion, or relieve his udder milk. Tav chose the former.

The fingers went back to work between his legs, determined to stay there even through the great pressure on his udder. It turned into something awful quick, those girthy milk streams withering into soft piddles in a steep inversion with the growing discomfort. Tav was forced to ignore it, a fierce jab and roll ascending him towards rapture. The pitch of his squeals reached imperceptibility. Nothing but reptilian hisses escaped his sorely stretched maw and the tautly pulled throat that jabbed and bobbed. His back curled. His hips thrashed. At last, he was here he needed to be.

A geyser of squirt ejected his two hands from his crotch. It briefly splashed off his fingers before jetting free and crashing into the ceiling full force. Tav's legs burst into an obtuse angle with every sinew of thigh muscle bursting against the scales and rattling the flesh with each contraction. That hydrant was bulged and split to the absolute, relaxing only for the brief moment when it wasn't hurling a missile of cum water at the ceiling and reloading the next one. In that brief lull was a chilling silence, broken soon by the thud of water and yet another venomous hiss.

Tav rolled about the mattress in a fit of gasps, heaves, and whimpers. His piss rocket would veer this way and that wherever he went, leaving no portion of the room unscathed. The milk dribbled with him along with a rudely sloshing udder. Even when his orgasm had regressed into a washy dribble he could not stop his spasmic rolling. “Huhhhhhh~! Huhhhhh~! Fuck! Ohhhh~! Huhhhhhhhhhhhh~!"

The rolling stopped only when he physically couldn't anymore out of exhaustion. He couldn't put a damper on his pounding heart or rising chest, not while that euphoria glowed so brightly. The back of his wrist lay on his burning forehead. Though he couldn't sweat, there was the fortunate mass of glistening sex product he'd painted himself with to help cool off with. It offered some relief, but not for the great pressure on his nipples now that the aftershock had dulled.

“Fuck. Dammit. Shit. Bucket? Where's the bucket?" It took some serious effort, but Tav was able to crane his legs over the side of the bed and get his feet on the fluid-soaked floor. A ripple of disgust climbed his shins while his milkbag sat on his lap like a big, pregnant belly. Standing up brought about a loud slosh sound as it all that milk came settling down on gravity's insistence. The teats suffered the brunt of it all, the four of them hissing in harmony with their quadruple shots.

“Shit!" The bucket was on its side on the floor where he'd dropped it the night before. It felt so long ago, when he'd been filling the mugs of two surly orcs and running for his life just to masturbate. Tav waddled his way to the bucket, those four streams piddling along the way. When he squatted in order to grab the handle his knees popped off like firecrackers. Standing back up was a task and a half, and when the bucket was upright he grabbed two teats and got to milking.

“Ohhhhh, fuck~" There came the wave of bliss as usual, however amplified by his previous orgasm. It wasn't easy, however. While he could aim and pull at two teats, the remaining pair were left to leak and dribble freely onto the floor between his feet, splashing amongst the other droplets of cum he'd shot out earlier. The best he could do was cover them with one arm like some wound and pull at one teat with the remaining hand. That slowed the process down terribly, but it made less of a mess.

Ssst. Ssst. Ssst. Ssst. Ssst. Ssst.

The bucket filled slowly, and the burden on his mammary softened. He stared blankly into the rising milk, its mini bubbles racing around the rim, away from each rattling squirt. “Come on," grunted Tav, his patience thinning. The arm held across his bleeding nipples pressed into the udder, using it like a squeeze bag to help accelerate the flow. It worked, but soon Tav realized that the bucket was filling more quickly than he was unloading. “No! Dammit!"

Alas, the milk reached just below the rim and he was forced to stop. There was way too much left inside him to just unload in the room. Even if there wasn't, sullying the place any further would've been a crime he wouldn't soon forgive himself for. The only option was to dump the bucket out the window. Tav scurried over to have a look outside. It was early in the morning, and only those about were guards standing duty on the fortress wall. No one was passing by or paying any attention to the inn. Now was his best chance.

Tav used both hands to open the window partway. Cool morning air swept inside, feeling like sharp razors against his super sensitive nips which instantly started leaking. A hiss ripped through his teeth, and he hurriedly jerked the bucket off the floor by the handle, brought it to the window, and tilted it. All his product came spilling out in a sharply angled tongue of glossy white which hit the cold hard ground with a heavy, droning thud. It splashed off the grass and blew out into a huge, gurgling puddle. Tav heaved the rest out with a shove and slammed the window shut without bothering to check how badly he'd flooded the ground.

That was a lot, and more begged an exit from his aching cow titties. He went back into a stoop over the bucket and dropped the rest in a furious series of squirts. He didn't bother covering up the unattended teats, too desperate to be done with that morning's burden and to get the fuck out of there.

At last his udder grew flat on his stomach, having regressed into a saggy pancake of surplus skin still throbbing with the aftermath of its disposal. Standing straight up made his spine pop. He grimaced and groaned like an old man. I've got to get the hell out of here and reach the mountains. It's only going to get worse the longer I take. His tunic was bunched up on the floor where Morth had tossed it last night. It had suffered some droplets of squirt and milk, but was for the most part dry. I wonder where Morth went off to, Tav wondered. Probably woke up beside me in a pool of my milk. Tav cringed at the thought. I hope the night before made up for it. It certainly did for me.

Tav got dressed, feeling a great, shivering wave of discomfort as the sex-moistened fabric of his clothes dragged against his scales. When the gown portion came in front of his udder he knew that it would be bowed around the organ again soon. I'll probably have to cut the section out entirely and walk with the udder out, dammit. He gathered his pack and grabbed the bucket with the milk still splashing around inside. He took a deep breath. Let's make this quick.

He tore out of the bedroom at a storming pace, just short of a jog. Luckily there wasn't anyone in the tavern besides an innkeeper behind the bar, a different Drow from the night before. They looked up and saw the stiff, oddly wet Dragonborn walking through like there was a stick up his ass that badly needed removing. “Well, hi there," said the innkeeper. “Have fun waking up this morning?"

A mortified Tav came striding up to the bar, reached into his purse, and slammed down some spare gold in front of the Drow. His eyes were bloodshot and he reeked of a queer combination including piss, copper, and cum. “For your added troubles," muttered Tav before continuing his flight from the inn and the fort at large. The Drow watched him go, completely flabbergasted as well as flattered. The latter reaction would not last when he saw what awaited him in Tav's room.

Tav zoomed into the cold morning air and made a beeline for the rear gates. There was a commotion where some folk were gathered around one side of the inn where a mysterious puddle of milk had grown out of nowhere. Tav didn't look back at them, though he made sure to keep his bucket in front of him while he walked away. There was a brief chat with an Orc who guarded the gate and marked down Tav's departure. It was a reminder of the two thugs who had harangued him the night before and made him squirt some of his milk. They would be waking up soon, and perhaps to a very rude addition to their bodies. Tav stood tapping his foot with his bucket held in front of him before at last he was given the clear to leave. He did so without a word, continuing his brisk pace all the way until the fort could no longer be seen behind him.

In the barracks an orc snored loudly atop his bunk. The place was occupied most by the nightwatch, soldiers who had spent the night on duty and were granted the privilege of extra hours of sleep into the morning. The curtains were drawn over the windows, sparing them the sun rays so harsh to a peaceful slumber. The orc's throat rattled like an engine, his tooth-heavy jay hung slack with a silky thread of spittle oozing down his cheek. A snort choked him silent, and he smacked his fat lips while his beefy hand came up to scratch his belly.

A terrible sensation tore him awake. His eyes shot open. The spit at the back of his throat splashed and threatened to choke him before he put it away with a mangled gulp. He blinked his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His head craned and he saw the undeveloped shape of his paunch all round and hairy. There was something else too, that which his claws had found and elicited a sharp and sudden pain. “The hell?" he grumbled.

He laid a gentle hand on the queer mound. It was a part of him for sure, sensitive to the touch like a sunburn. Smooth, soft skin was broken by the jut of some rough bumps. They made him hiss when he touched them. Dread churned his blood into ice, and the orc threw himself off his bunk, stark nude. He landed on both feet with a terrific thump and ran for the nearest window.

His bunkmate, a fellow orc and his watch partner, was in the bunk below. He started at the sound of his partner hitting the floor like a meteor. “Nnn? What is it?" he grunted.

He was ignored, and the panicking watchmen reached a window to tear the curtains aside so he could see himself. The incoming sunlight blinded him for a moment, all his olive green skin and thick black body hair glowing in the beacon with the pane's shadows running across his buff frame. He looked down, and through the blur of dewy eyes and painful light he saw the petite udder that grew out of his tummy and the absence of his manhood.

His eyes went round. A terrified shout blew out from the well of his stomach and woke up everyone in the barracks. His partner jolted further out of bed and came running over also in the nude. “What what what!? What is it?"

The orc turned around to show his comrade what had happened. That's when he saw the same thing on his stomach too, that bright pink organ bouncing like a tit, just above a puffy slit of hot woman flesh. Both men screamed and pointed at each other's transformed stomach. The bottom bunk orc looked down and saw his own udder, then screamed. Both of them screamed. Soon every soldier there was hustling over to see what the noise was, and the barracks was filled with screams.

***

“Nnnnnnnnnnnn…" Tav was just off trail in the woods, leaning up against a tree while he milked himself. It had been only a few hours since the last time when he woke up, a common morning ritual by this point. His udder was so big now that he couldn't see the difference in size from the previous morning. He understood its inevitability, thus he watched it inflate with the same grim indifference one might feel with a mild rash. The pattern had been set: wake up, milk, masturbate, hike, milk, masturbate, hike, milk, masturbate, sleep, repeat.

When his tummy was reasonably flat enough he took care of his other bodily need, echoing his moans off the trees and then watering the one he leaned against with a hot, hissing squirt. “Nyuuuuuhhhhh~~~!!!" When it fizzled into a steady dribble and the sensation returned to his dopamine-fried legs he put his tunic back on, hoisted his pack, then resumed his journey as casually as he could.

The mountains were close. The road Tav walked which carved its way through gradually steepening ground, its path splitting the trees ahead and being absorbed. This was familiar territory, what he'd trekked before in search of food and ingredients. Through the throbbing ache of his udder and cloaca his chef's instincts still shone, urging him to split from the road and forage the grass for exotic onions. Perhaps on the way back, he thought. That's if I find a solution. There still might be nothing at the end of all this. He dreaded the possibility, but wouldn't let it stop him. He'd come too far. He'd suffered too many indignities. Nothing short of death would end this adventure prematurely.

He reached the crest of a hill and came upon a crossroads where a signpost stood. He hurried to it and read the four arrows. Matan was directly ahead, 40 km, just a night or two more. He gripped the straps of his pack with anticipation. Almost there. Just a little farther. He was about to carry on his merry way before the sound of something approaching from behind gave pause. He turned to look and saw a canvas chuckwagon laboring up the road in his direction. Labored forward by two burly oxen, it was piloted by a single person with the reins in one hand and a whip in the other. He spotted Tav and gave him a polite wave. Friend or foe? Tav wondered. He'd already been seen, so he waved back and turned to keep walking down the road towards Matan. Likely he's headed somewhere else and I won't have an encounter. I'd rather not deal with anymore people in this condition, not until I make it to Matan.

No such luck. He heard the wagon draw closer, its axles and wheels churning against each other. There was the punctual snap of the driver's whip and a spirited “Hyah!" Tav fought the urge to look back all the way up to the point where the wagon was right behind him.

“Hello there, fellow traveler!" hollered the driver.

Tav sighed. Here we go again. He turned his head with his best and brightest smile. “Hello there," he hollered back. The race of the wagon's driver was one he didn't recognize. He was an alien looking specimen whose dark gray fur and lime green highlights remained unfamiliar to anyone else Tav had seen. He was fairly scrawny except for the thick and heavy proboscis that hung from his face and dangled beneath his chin, sporting fleshy and dextrous nostrils like an elephant's. It was wrinkled on top, twitching randomly in the wind as the road's dust would cough up towards it. He wore a broad straw hat to protect from the sun. As he got closer Tav saw the horizontal nature of his pupils beset within sharp green eyes. Tav withheld a look of confusion. What the hell is he supposed to be?

The wagon drew closer and slowed to a crawl. The queer-looking driver leaned out of his seat towards Tav. “Headed to Matan, are we?"

A woman's voice echoed from inside the wagon, underneath the canvas. “Darling? Who is it?"

“Some dragonborn all by herself," the driver said. “Looks like she's heavy with child."

A wince tugged at Tav's face as he covered his grossly swollen udder-belly. How many times are people going to make that mistake? “Ah, not quite. Just… an affliction. I am a man."

The driver's smile plummeted. “Oh, I see. Terribly sorry. Erm, I thought your voice seemed deep."

“It's alright."

“If it's an affliction you have, why not take the rest of the way into town with us? The road's unforgiving to the feet, no doubt. Come and ride with us."

“Oh, um, that won't be necessary," Tav insisted. I'll just milk up their wagon.

“Nonsense! You've got quite the burden on you, I can tell. Hike up here next to me-" He patted the space next to him on the driver's seat. “-and we can ride together. No problem whatsoever. May I ask what your name is?"

Tav gulped. “Tav."

“Tav, I'm Griel, and my wife Meescha is with me. We're headed to Matan for a better life. She's heavy with child, you know."

Now I see why he was so eager to help me out. “Oh, well, congratulations, but it's really no issue. My- affliction would forbid it." He laid a hand over his udder. Milk bubbled inside, close to demanding eviction.

“If it would forbid taking a ride on a carriage, I think it would forbid walking all by yourself for great distances," Griel pointed out.

Meescha called from the wagon. “Please! It would be our pleasure. Perhaps we can help with whatever ails you!"

Tav could've rebuked them outright and kept on walking. He could've lied and said his condition was contagious. He could've done many things, but anything that wasn't accepting Griel's invitation would feel deeply disrespectful. Tav sighed and rubbed his nose. “Alright, I'll ride with you. Thank you."

Griel's face lit up with a smile. “Glad to hear! Come on up, friend!" Tav trudged his way over, his udder feeling marginally heavier than before he first saw Griel's wagon. Griel offered a hand for him to climb up. Tav grabbed it and came up with a heave and a grunt, the milk in his udder sloshing audibly. He plopped onto the seat right next to Griel with a heavy exhale. The wagon restarted with a crack of the whip, and Tav's journey continued. “So what brings you to Matan, Tav? Where are you from?" Half of Griel's attention was on the road. The other half was on the strange mass of flesh that made Tav look pregnant.

Tav sat back in his seat, one hand resting over his bloated milk balloon. It was so much more manageable sitting in his lap and not hanging off him. The ache and fatigue that throbbed in his feet started to dull. This is starting to feel like the right decision. “Rivington," Tav said. “I'm a chef. I came here a long time ago searching for exotic ingredients. I found one in Matan, but it gave me this affliction I told you about. I'm returning for a possible cure."

“Oh, I see." Griel stared directly at Tav's tummy. He noticed two soft bumps against the soft gown fabric. It was slightly see-through as if drying.“May I ask what your affliction is?"

Tav considered making something up, but figured that he wouldn't come up with something believable quickly enough. It won't be long until I start leaking either. That will be hard to hide. “Well, it's embarrassing…"

It occurred to Griel how rude the question was. “Sorry. You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable."

“No, no. You should know if I'm riding with you. It's…" Tav laughed. “It's a bit hard to believe. I've grown an udder."

Griel blinked. “Oh. I see." He looked forward at the road for a moment before peering over at Tav. “You mean like… a cow's udder?"

Oddly enough, Tav found his reaction funny. “Precisely," he said with a smirk.

“What did he say?" Meescha asked from behind them.

Griel answered. “Erm, he said he's grown an udder."

“Oh," she said. “Interesting."

“I hope it doesn't bother you," Tav said.

“Oh, not at all! It's just, not quite something I've ever encountered, at least not on a dragonborn."

“No, it wasn't for me either, at least until I woke up with it one morning." Tav told him the tale of using the cursed milk in a sweetroll and waking up with the gradually swelling mammary. He included his mission to return to Matan and perhaps find a cure, but left out the grisly details about the milking and squirting.

“That's incredible," Meescha said. “I hope it works out for you."

“Thank you," said Tav. “I hope so too." It occurred to him that he still hadn't seen Meescha. He looked behind him into the wagon's canvas. His view of her was obscured. He had no idea what she looked like or even if she was the same species as Griel, whatever that might have been. “So, Meescha. Griel tells me you're with child. How far along are you, if I may?"

“Oh, for as long as Griel and I have been together," she told him gaily. “18 years now, it's been."

Tav wasn't expecting that, nor could he process it. Greil sensed his confusion and smiled. “Meescha and I are Ovipen. We're a race from up north. When we find a mate, the women ovulate constantly and harbor all of the fertilized eggs inside until a suitable place to lay them is found. Meescha has up to fifty unlaid eggs inside her right now, but none of them will grow until they are laid in a proper place.

Tav had boarded their wagon with a whole udder on his belly and yet what awaited him was far, far stranger. “Oh, I see. Um, I've never met nor heard of an… What did you call yourself?"

“An Ovipen."

“Ovipen, yes."

“Well, we're certainly rare this far south. The colder weather suits us better, but Meescha and I are immigrating. Better lives to be had in Matan, or so I've heard."

That's debatable. “Ah, well good luck to you."

“Likewise. Would you like to see her?"

“See her?"

“Meescha, my wife."

“Oh. Uhhh…"

“You can look!" called the woman hidden behind him. “Please, I'd like to see the face of our guest."

And Tav would've liked to see the woman holding onto 50 eggs. With some morbid curiosity and severe trepidation, Tav scooted aside and lifted the canvas to peek inside. There was Meescha, who was very obviously pregnant to a heart-stopping degree. She was on her back with her head towards the front of the wagon, styled like her husband with short gray fur and a mossy green that framed her underbelly and face, but that's where the similarities end. She was a leviathan whose obese frame filled the entirety of the wagon's bed, those great reserves of blubber splashing about as the wagon rocked. Her limbs better resembled segmented cones of fat with tiny hands and feet stuck at their ends. Most prominent of all was that Jovian belly seething with eggs, those fist-sized ovoids knocking and sloshing into each other with her every jiggle. Her head was turned towards Tav with that enormous trunk hanging from her face like a twitchy stalactite made of rubber. In the middle of that big, round face were two beaming eyes which squinted with a smile. She waved one stick of chub at him. “Hello," she said.

Tav dumbly waved back. “Hi."

“I know it might come as a shock," Griel said beside him, focusing on the road. He appeared used to such a reaction. “But when our women start to ovulate there's no stopping it. They become so bloated that they become immobilized. I had to build this wagon around her bed."

Tav lowered the canvas and stared straight ahead in his seat, feeling Meescha's presence behind him like a great mass ready to absorb him. “Oh," was all he had to say.

Greil laughed. “Don't worry about us. It's our life and we love living it. I do all I can to make my beloved happy, and she does the same merely by being here." He reached behind him into the wagon. Tav couldn't see it, but Meescha 'kissed' him on the palm with her trunk.

Tav found it adorable, in a morbidly bizarre kind of way. He found himself smiling, his condition no longer that strange of a burden now that he shared a ride with two folk who had it worse and yet kept a cheery attitude. Who was he not to share in the feeling? “That's very sweet. I'm curious, though. What proper conditions do you need to lay these eggs? How often do you find them?"

Quite suddenly, Driel's smile faltered. “Ah, well… That's an Ovipen secret. Not that I don't trust you, but it's dictated that none of our kind divulge where we lay our eggs lest people come and try to destroy us."

“Oh, I had no idea. Sorry."

“No, it's alright. It's part of why we're immigrating south. Settlers have made the homelands dangerous. They are not kind to our way of reproduction. Word is that Matab is better, like I said. With more people- Er, with more land around, it should be easier to find a… nest. Right, a nest."

Tav nodded along, understanding what Griel said but feeling confused as to why his chipper attitude had turned so dodgy. Must be a touchy subject. Best leave it alone. Tav sat back in his seat and stretched his legs. The udder settled atop his gut into a blooming muffin top which spread in each direction like a gelatinous flood. It felt terrific to not have it sag so heavily like it always did. His knees let off a nice double-pop. Riding with these two was proving to be the right decision. For the first time since eating the sweetroll, he felt comfortable.

Griel saw him relaxing. “Go ahead and rest. I'll wake you when we stop next."

“Are you sure? I can take the reins if you need me to. I can drive a wagon."

Griel patted him on the knee. “I'm certain. Close your eyes, friend. You've earned it."

Tav was too tired to argue, not that he really wanted to. He closed his eyes, and in a few moments he was snoozing.

***

Tav woke to a gentle shake on his shoulder. “Tav."

His head snapped up with a snort. He'd been slumped back in his seat, dead to the world since the moment he'd closed his eyes. Blinking to the abrupt dullness that surrounded him he realized that it was dusk. Shadows long and western skies aflame, he'd been asleep for a few hours at least. He sat upright with a groan which snapped into a hiss. The weight of his udder had grown and it sat on his lap like a child who'd outgrown it. The inside of his tunic was wet with milk and so was the place where he rested his feet.

“Oh God, I'm so sorry. I…" He meant to vacate the wagon, but hadn't checked to see where they were yet. They were in the woods just a few hundred yards from the road. Griel had found a small clearing for them to set up camp in. “I'll… I'll make my way now."

Griel rattled his palm at him. “No, no, no! It's alright. Please, stay. It's nothing, really."

Tav stopped his attempt at getting out, if only because his milk weight was something punishing. He fell back into his seat with a whumpf. “Ah, alright. I can stay the night in your camp?"

“We'd be insulted if you didn't." Griel let go of the reins and placed on the mantle behind him, between the seat and the canvas. He peeked inside to check on Meescha. “Everything alright, darling?"

She made it very clear what concerned her presently. “When are we going to eat? I'm famished." Tav fought back a snort. If that's famished, I'd hate to see stuffed.

“In a few minutes, dear. We have to set up camp. Just bear with me, please. I love you."

“I love you too," she said, if a tad grumpily.

Griel hopped out of his seat to begin unpacking. Tav gathered some extra oxygen through a few rapid breaths before heaving himself leftwards. The inertia nigh catapulted him to the dirt as all that mammary immensity came swinging out. He was just barely able to catch himself on the seat railing before stepping down to the ground, his Jovian organ sloshing around painfully and loudly. Milk droplets tickled down the scales of his inner thighs. It was time to unload. “Ahh, if you'll excuse me, I have something… big to take care of."

Griel peeked around at him from the other side of the wagon. “Yes! Of course. Go take care of yourself."

Tav pivoted hard and performed what would've been a sprint if not for the great burden saddled on him. It was more of a hurried shuffle, one where his feet barely left the ground. His arms cradled his udder, that boiling mass of liquid ready to rip through all four teats like Noah's deluge quadrupled. His jaw was clenched, the look of agony twisting his features. Faster, faster, faster!

He retreated not much further into the trees before hiking his entire outfit up and over his head. Out flopped his udder, now properly a dairy factory whose four outlets leaked droplets so rapidly that they were almost strung into streams. His hands went to the top two and pulled. Psssssssssst! That first tear of relief tossed his head back, throat ululating. “Uuuuuggghhhhhh~" He felt his pussy heaving with each tug, its own output of fluids at an upheaval and dousing with ground at his feet with a thickish sex phlegm. He did not need to finger it this time, the milking alone like the sweetest penetration into his cavity and across his pleasure bits. “Huhhh! Huhhh! Huhhhh!"

Bucket be damned, the dirt in front of him was a pallet of fleshy white textured by grains of dirt set to float along the milky tsunami. He would look down from his ecstatic swoons and watch it grow and grow with its invading arms rippling along the ground and zig-zagging this way and that. Behind the mind-melting pleasure and embarrassment was some queer admiration of what he and his organ could do.

It could even make him cum, evident by the swell of delight between his loins which made his moans shrill and shaky. The sudden and violent hiss of squirt from his pussy caught him off guard. It gurgled loudly into his milk puddle, watering down the substance but amplifying the raunchiness in both material and aroma. He spasmed and squealed with the usual vehemence, now with the added shock that he could cum hands free. Oh, what a blessing his udder was proving to be.

The swelling died down gradually, turning into the horridly deflated sack with a deathly pallor. Hope told him that its sad condition meant that it was done producing milk, but he knew better. In the morning he would be lowing again, and it wasn't guaranteed whether Griel would tolerate his presence anymore. After shedding so many pounds and cumming thrice in the process, an exhausted Tav staggered over to his gown-tunic and put it on. Fatigue sagged his eyes even after he'd just woken up. It was getting dark; the sun had made a full retreat from the sky. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

He trudged back into camp to find it completely set up, fire included. The oxen were tied to a nearby tree and munching away at some oats while Griel boiled up a stew. The wagon had been turned with the rear towards the fire so Meescha could face it. Her fat, pudgy feet curled and uncurled in the heat of the flames while her long, thick tail dangled over the tailgate lazily. Griel heard Tav approaching and smiled. “Welcome back! Feel better?"

Tav forced a smile of his own. “Marginally."

“Well, you certainly look lighter. Must've been quite the burden you took off."

Tav came close to the fire and sat cross legged in the dirt. The absence of a swollen udder brought an odd, yet welcome sense of liberation. “You have no idea."

“We heard you making sounds," Meescha said. “It sounded awful."

Tav laughed weakly. “Awful? Not entirely. It feels quite good to let it all go, a lot like taking a huge piss. Much better, in fact."

Griel looked over at Meescha with a big grin. “We know something about that, don't we darling?"

Meescha giggled. Her tail swayed one way and curled into a seductive hook. “Mmm, we certainly do."

Tav looked between them, knowing that there was something he was missing. “What is it you know?" he asked.

Griel's attention fell upon the stew. “I see your clothes are damp. Why don't you hang them up on the wagon and I'll clean them?"

“Huh?" Tav looked down at himself. “Ahh, yeah. You don't have to."

“Nonsense. Please, you're our guest."

“Well… I have nothing else to wear."

“You can borrow a gown of mine, or you can stay nude. Wouldn't bother us none."

“I certainly wouldn't mind," Meescha chimed. Her tail did another saucy sway.

It was the night's growing chill that made Tav's tunic unbearable to wear and made the choice for him. “Heh, well, alright." He pulled the tunic out from beneath his wriggling butt and up the rest of his body. Feeling the heat of the fire on his bare udder after coming out of the cold, wet cotton fabric brought a delightful shiver. He laid the tunic-gown beside him in a clumped pile and performed a big stretch with his arms over his head, rippling the muscles of his chest and arms against the scales in a way that made Meescha's tail do another sway. “Mmmm, that's much better." Bringing his arms back down made his deflated udder shift in his lap to let him know that it was exposed to his two new friends, but he didn't mind. For the first time since his hookup with Morth, he felt safe.

Naturally, both Griel and Meescha's gaze fell on that strange organ. “That looks much more manageable," Griel said. He was staring when he noticed that he was neglecting the stew. He resumed stirring it. “How fast does it fill up?"

Tav groaned. “Much too fast. I have to milk myself twice a day at least. Once in the morning, and again in the afternoon. There are… other side effects too."

“Like what?"

“Well…" Tav scratched the back of his head. “It's a tad personal."

“Oh, you don't have to tell us."

“But we won't judge you if you do," Meescha said.

Curiosity radiated off them both. Tav wasn't so cruel as to leave them hanging. “Ah, well, unloading a great deal of milk all at once is rather stimulating, put it lightly. It lights up my loins something terrible, and every time I have to… well, take care of it." He caught Meescha's tail curling out of the corner of his eye. He meant to check what Griel's was doing, but noticed for the first time that he didn't have one; his lower back was smooth. I've never seen a sexually dimorphic tail. Interesting.

“So you, ahem, pull one out?" Griel asked.

Tav laughed out loud, his first time in a long time. “So to speak, yes."

“Is that what we heard earlier?" Meescha asked.

Tav's beaming smile turned into a bashful grimace. “Yeah, it was."

“I knew it," she said with a vindicated grin. “You know, I've never heard a man moan like that before. I thought it adorable~" The swing of her tail had become perpetual, no doubt intentional and explicit for Tav to notice.

Tav's face bloomed with heat. “Th-thank you." He rubbed his neck. “I suppose."

Griel was embarrassed with him. “Meescha, please."

“What? I'm only being kind to our guest." Her sultry grin appeared and disappeared behind the pulsing fire light. It was nighttime in full, and Meescha's giant body had become an anomalous mass in the shadow of the wagon's canvas.

Tav's feet curled beneath him. Now his own tail was in a curve. “I, uh, appreciate it. You know, I've never moaned during self-pleasure before- or sex for that matter -before I grew this udder." The word 'sex' made his throat tighten and his tail curved the other way. “And there's a reason for that."

“What's that?" Griel asked. The stew was ready, and he grabbed two bowls to serve with. He filled one with the broth and vegetables from a ladle and passed it to Tav with a wooden spoon inside.

Tav accepted the bowl and took a deep whiff of the stew's delicious smell. It reignited his chef's skills, parsing each ingredient and spice without having to look or ask. Celery, carrot, corn, onion, onion stock, chives… Ovipen are herbivores, it seems. Not my cup of tea but I won't turn down a good stew. “Thank you. This smells delicious." He cradled some stew in his spoon and took a tiny slurp. It was hot, but in that tiny, scalding sip he knew just how delectable it was. “And it is."

“Thank you!" said Griel. He filled the second bowl and began towards the wagon. He climbed in next to Meescha and handed her the bowl. She cradled the bowl to her collar with those colossal arms of flab and put it right to her lips to slurp away. “You were telling us why you moan?" Wife attended to, Griel casually hopped off the wagon and returned to the fire.

“Uhhhh…" Tav blinked and shook his head. “Sorry. Right, well the udder wasn't the only thing that milk gave me. Rather, it replaced something else I had."

Griel's eyebrows raised. “Don't tell me it took your manhood."

Tav nodded grimly. “Alas." He uncrossed his legs and opened them far to show off the still soaked and slightly gnarled cloaca with its small dash of hot pink glistening on the inside. “You can't see it, but the milk gave me a cunt, clit and all. I wouldn't be shocked if there was a womb inside too." He said it so casually. Getting it out there for two people he trusted was a great burden off his chest. It was so weird, but it also felt good. His description went on, rolling out of him as smoothly as he would try and court a woman. He wasn't sure why, but his eyes were on Meescha as he spoke. “It gets so hot that I can't stop myself. I put my fingers there and…" A moment to curl his toes. The heat he'd vanquished a few minutes ago was quickly returning in full. “And it's purely automatic. It's a delight I never experienced with a cock. It's… exquisite. I cum and it's like I'm flying. It's the most spectacular thing I've ever experienced."

His body returned to him with that last passing syllable. He'd been in a trance set upon him by that raunchy confession. Bottled up in him for so long, it had spewed with the same insistence as his orgasms, stimulated to the surface by the deft finger that was his tongue. He sat there quiet with cheeks burning like the fire in front of him. The two Ovipen stared at him in shock, making him aware of his nudity. He quickly closed his legs and took a hurried sip of stew. “I'm sorry," he muttered.

“No, don't apologize," Griel said.

“That was beautiful," added Meescha. “Griel, darling. Come here." Griel shot to his feet and ran over like a good soldier. He climbed into the wagon and asked what she needed. She waved him closer, then he leaned in so she could whisper into his ear.

Griel's eyes flew into a look of shock from whatever she said. “No!" he said in a hushed but also vehement tone. Tav frowned. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but curiosity begged him to listen in. There was no doubt they were talking about him, and whatever the subject was it was apparently serious. His manners kept him reclusive, however, and he watched as husband and wife whispered away a heated debate. It was sprinkled with no's, hisses, and some swears. Finally Meescha grabbed her husband by the collar of his shirt and growled something at him. Griel was quiet, then he nodded. “Alright," Tav heard him say.

That satisfied Meescha who grew a fantastic grin and kissed him on the cheek with her proboscis. “Thank you. I love you."

Griel said nothing in return while he slinked from out the wagon and returned to the fire. He wrung a somber smile on his approach. “Tav, my friend, if you'd come to the wagon where Meescha is. We would… like to ask you something."

The weight of the proposition hung over him like an anvil on a rope, ready to fall on him. “Oh, alright."

While he got up Meescha told him, “It's very important~" Yet another curl of her tail, even saucier this time. Tav wondered for the last time why Griel didn't have one.

“You don't have to say yes," said Griel while leading Tav to the wagon. “Don't feel pressured."

“Be quiet, Griel," commanded the wife, and the husband fell silent.

The curt exchange cracked in front of Tav like a whip. Standing in front of the wagon he came into the presence of that gargantuan woman with her sumptuous appendage performing parlor tricks in front of the tailgate. Tav's eyes swung in their sockets along with it. For some reason it made him more aware of his nudity. He made eye contact with her and nearly melted from the heat of her gaze. “So, what is it?" he asked timidly.

“Tav, would you carry my eggs?" Meescha asked.

The anvil fell. It landed squarely atop Tav's cranium and flattened him into a pancake with such speed and violence that his mind simply did not react nor process what he'd been asked. “I'm sorry?"

“What Meescha means is…" began a mortified-looking Griel. “We would be very honored and privileged if you would… help us ease our burden with Meescha's brood."

Tav shot him a look. “Her brood?" He was still reeling from the word 'eggs' when he looked at Meescha's huge, swollen belly. It was knobbed and misshapen not from pods of blubber but by dozens of eggs. Tav's attention was brought back to her tail when it swayed again. She made a deliberate flick of the tip at him, and he saw the pucker of flesh which marked an orifice already sopping with some kind of feminine fluid not unlike his own. He looked at Griel who possessed nothing of the sort.

Then he realized it wasn't a tail.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh…" A fierce mix of revulsion and terror curdled Tav's blood. “That… Um… I don't… Umm…" He could not summon the thought, let alone the word. Very suddenly this camp was not so welcoming. “I'm not… so sure of that."

Griel sighed. “I told you, sweetheart."

Meescha ignored him. “Oh, please, Tav. It would make us the happiest Ovipen in the world." She tucked her tail- no, her ovipositor -away from him so not to ward him off with that menacing flesh slit. “You needn't carry them for long, just a night so they may develop. They'll be ours and you'll never have to deal with them again!"

Tav was struck by the image of said eggs crystalizing into dense ovoids inside his stomach, his womb. A horrid shiver rattled him to the bone. “Ahhhh, I'm sure that would be great for you both, but… I'm not… quite so sure…" His hands clasped each other in front of his groin as if to protect it.

“Meescha, please…" Griel insisted.

“Please, nothing!" insisted an offended Meescha right back. “We have been waiting for the right person to pass the next clutch onto! This is our chance! I can't wait any longer! I'm dying." The last word came with a most theatrical pout.

“Sweetheart, you aren't dying," said an annoyed Griel.

Tav's mind was racing. Eggs. Ovipositor. Clutch. Brood. Develop. Womb. Pure insanity, but he was able to catch up with all that was going on and bring forth a question. “Wait, so when you said you needed proper conditions to lay your eggs, you meant you needed someone to lay them inside of?"

Meescha nodded enthusiastically, wobbling the fat of her neck. “Yes! A woman in good health of any race is perfect. All we need is for them to develop overnight, just a half dozen or so. I'm ovulating constantly." She emphasized the fact with a push on her belly with her hand, jostling around her great bounty of eggs. Schlorschhhhh. It made Tav woozy. “I cannot lay any without a proper surrogate, my body won't allow it. Please, Tav. We'd be in your debt."

“I said no pressure!" said an impatient Griel to Meescha.

“I'm sorry, but I can't help it. A nice, handsome lad like this with a fresh, healthy womb for laying? Griel, I love you, but we'd be terrible, terrible fools to let this opportunity slip past us." She looked at Tav. “Please, Tav. I'm begging you. Relieve me of just some of this pain. Make me a mother again. Please."

Tav's heart pounded with the height of her desperation. She wasn't trying to seduce him anymore, but was full-on begging. Her tone was on her knees groveling, if not her actual body which was incapable of such a feat. Tav looked over at Griel, anticipating some further resistance. Instead the husband stayed mute, apparently unwilling to try and sway Meescha anymore. He'd heard that tone of hers before; he knew there was no changing her mind.

So did Tav. Camp wasn't the safeplace he'd walked into, but there was no walking out of it. That woeful croon of a mother-to-be in need triggered an instinct in him, one he did not know he had. That thought of eggs maturing in his belly, turning to life and making way out of him so that they may flourish was not so repulsive. No, it was something he had to do, something his biology demanded of him as ardently as Meescha's demanded of her. His toes curled into the dirt. His throat was a vice, but he was able to croak out some words. “Yes, alright. I'll do it."

Griel looked at him in shock. Meescha's sorrow immediately blossomed into joy. “Oh, wonderful!" she chirped with a gay flick of her sex organ. “You have no idea how happy that makes us! Doesn't it, darling?"

Griel blinked and looked at her, seeming to have forgotten that she was there for a moment. “Ahh, yes! Yes it does," he said with a nervous laugh.

The tension in the air had softened into something more manageable for sure, but Tav still felt awkward. He rubbed his arm. “So… how does this work? Does that… thing, go inside of me?"

“It does," Meescha said. Her appendage hooked in the air at him, once again aiming that wet cavity. “It will be quick, the laying, that is. I'll give you… let's say, ten."

“Six," Griel corrected her. “Let's not kill the man." That didn't help Tav's nerves.

“Six," she said, if begrudgingly. “I'll give you six. Griel and I will be here for you while they mature in your tummy and when it's time to lay them."

A pit formed in Tav's stomach. I hadn't thought about that part. “Urm, and what about that part? Sorry if this is my first time… laying eggs." Saying it aloud made him shiver. The heat fell back into his womanhood, preparation for what was to come.

“Oh!" Meescha laughed. “I actually forgot you weren't a woman." Tav tried not to take that as an insult. “Have you ever seen a female dragonborn lay eggs? Or anyone give birth, for that matter?"

Tav gulped. “I have. It doesn't appear to be the most pleasant experience."

“Well, don't worry too much. Like I said, Griel and I will be by your side the entire time. Won't we, darling?"

“Yes," said Griel with a nod. “Unless, our friend has second thoughts." He looked to Tav, expecting the dragonborn to back out.

Disappointment awaited him. “No," Tav said, his cunt swelling already. “I don't."

“Wonderful~" purred Meescha. “Griel, darling, help him onto the wagon. Let's him and I get to know each other."

Griel acquiesced at last. “Of course, my love." He came up to Tav and offered his hand.

Tav wore a stupefied grin as he accepted. And to think this is all because I used the wrong milk substitute. He was hauled onto the tailgate, his legs astride that terrible organ which hung between Meescha's legs. It hadn't looked more massive than when it shared the air with Tav's cunny, so too with her egg-swollen hyper gut. One pudgy hand of hers ran a tiny circle on her chest while the most lascivious stare regarded him with half hung lids and a twitchy proboscis. It was strange how much that turned him on further still, but he wasn't complaining anymore. “So, what should I do now?" he asked.

Meescha patted her tummy. “Lie here on your stomach. Get comfortable~"

“Ah, alright." That Jovian belly stood before him like Mount Everest. Daunting, but not insurmountable. He took a deep breath and rested upon her mound, their flesh meeting for the first time. There was the jostle and bump of those many eggs inside her tickling his scales. He could hear them churning about, the thrum of her life force and pulsing heart murring about it all. She was warm. The underbelly was wonderfully soft. Though his deflated udder was pressed into her, whatever aches it suffered were numbed by Meescha's matriarchal immensity. He hugged that pregnant dome and laid his head onto it. I should probably keep my eyes open. I might just fall asleep.

“A little further, honey," Meescha cooed, her voice echoing through the body and into Tav's right ear which was pressed into her. Tav wriggled his way up her paunch until he laid atop it at a curve with her body, each protruding egg a pressure point upon his body which shivered with excitement. He rose and fell to the cadence of her breathing. So soft and warm, he might as well have been inside her along with that great brood which he began to envy.

A part of it would be inside him instead, and the process started when Meescha's heavy breeding tool came curling into the air behind Tav with that drooling orifice twitching already. Griel grabbed it like some cargo being swung on a crane and helped aim it at Tav's bum. “Tav, lift your tail for us?" asked the husband politely.

Tav blushed. “R-right." He obeyed, flashing Griel his gnarled reptile slit and its feminine flood which oozed onto Meescha's underbelly fur. Griel navigated the ovipositor closer until both holes shared in heat. Tav jolted hard when he felt Griel's hand pry apart the cloaca lips for a better view of that gushing cavity. Griel closed the two organs together, and at last they met with a disgusting squelch.

Tav's head shot upwards, mouth agape, eyes bugging. “Ah! Aha! Ahhhhh!" Just the heat of Meescha's egg lubricant squishing out from their mutually compacting flesh was a burst of sensations which made him seize and shiver. Worse was the gape of hot sex flesh forced upon him by that craning pillar of meat urged forward by the two Ovipen's guidance.

Meescha cradled his face by the jowls with her angelically soft dough hands. “Shhhhhh, easy. Huhhhh… We're just getting-" A twitch in her mien, the first inkling of pleasure. “-started. Mph…"

Griel was grunting through the effort of jamming Meescha in deeper. “Just… a tad further. You doing alright, Tav?"

More than alright, Tav clutched the rolls of Meescha fat as his sorely gaped cunt choked that oncoming organ with all might and pleasure. “Hahhh! Hahhhh! Uhhhhh!" His fluids bubbled and squirted about the ovipositor, forming a long slick of pussy drool which filed its way down the slope.

Meescha felt it tickling across her fur and a sultry purr rolled out of her with a swoon of the head. “Ohhhhhh, we're doing just fine, sweetheart. Mmmmmm~ Keep it coming." She was deep enough, the tip pressed into Tav's womb with all his cavity stretched to its limit and strangling Meescha's organ. There was a sudden thud sound, deep and throaty, which boomed from deep inside Meescha's tummy. “Ooh! Huhhh! It's coming… Oh God… I can feel it… Yes~"

So did Tav, the coming surge of eggs signaled by yet another thud. It boomed closer and louder. Stretching from the root of the ovipositor was a web of thick, blue veins. Vivid and strong, they crunched to the surface with each of those throbs. Thoom. Thoom. Thoom. The previously smooth and delicate organ had turned a menacing kind of vascular, its meaty pulses reverberating through Tav's quivering body. His jaw hung dumbly, a strand of drool coming down the lip. “Ahhhh! Ahhhh… Ahhhhh…"

Meescha gasped suddenly. “Huhhhh! Here it comes! The first one!" Her pulsing turned loud. Her whole belly heaved beneath Tav, lifting him and rattling the whole wagon. At last there came an ovoid swell at the root of Meescha's organ. It surged along the line her canal made, boldly stretching and thinning the flesh so that it turned translucent. Swaddled in veins both thick and delicate, it traveled the path of her tunnel in a series of heavy throbs. Gworshhh… Gworshhh… Gworshhh… It arced with the ovipositor's curve and made a heady charge for Tav's gaped quim. The egg's shape met the dragonborn's behind, and with one final heave the egg crashed into his inner feminism where Meescha's egg pucker crowned around the tip and slammed it into the cervix.

It was like an explosion of feelings. Not pain, not pleasure, not emotion. Just feelings, the white hot eruption of all senses which threw Tav's spine and tail into a steep crescent, his face bugging cartoonishly. Out came a wild squeal as the portal to his womb was flexed. It lasted just long enough for the egg to pass all the way inside, then it slapped shut, ready for the next one. A small but dense weight fell into Tav's tummy like some exquisite meal, not in the stomach, but just above where the heat of his own sex and Meescha's mother tube blossomed into something blissful and beautiful. Tav slumped back down, a panting, quivering mess. His eyes were rolled into his head, windows to a mind without thought.

Meescha's blubber gurgled loudly when she shuddered. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh, yes~ Ohhh, that was so fucking amazing~"

“Language, dear," Griel said, his hands still on his wife's pole.

“Oh, hush, darling. You know I can't help it." She patted the top of Tav's head. “And how are you, my dear? Hanging in there?"

Tav answered. “Hnnnnnggghhhh…"

“Good. Huhhhh! Oh, yes…" She grunted. “Here comes another! Ohh~!" Gworshhh… Gworshhh… Up came another egg making that same crescent up into Tav's waiting womb. At the tip Meescha's hole gaped and so did Tav's motherly portal, absorbing the child in one wet gulp.

The pair shared an orgasmic shudder and groan. Tav's belly swelled visibly beneath him. A storm of hormones triggered his udder into overdrive, and in only a few moments there was a soft drizzle of milk piddling through the ovular bumps across Meescha's gut. Griel let go of Meescha's organ, confident that the two were firmly linked. “There we go. You two are doing great." That much was evident with all the spasming and groaning. He watched as another egg was clenched forth into the appendage and up through the canal. His head lifted along its journey which ended within Tav's soaking wet, quivering cunt. A grin of childish excitement clenched his jaw when Tav's belly swelled further. “Yes! Keep it coming!"

Those were unnecessary orders given the flow Meescha had found herself in. The fourth egg was brought out with ease. It did not flood Tav's womb before the fifth was surging out too. Gworshhh… Gworshhh… Rivers of thickish sex gruel traveled down the ovipositor and its grossly swelling muscle strangled so tightly with veins. It tickled her something awful and ordered more jiggly shivers. “Oooooohhh… Yes~ That's so much better. Mmmmmm…"

The relief on her came as a greater burden on Tav. His tummy was now obscenely pregnant. It had him lifted atop Meescha's mound gut. The udder was stretched across its contours, still sweating milk at a dreadful pace. Tav could do nothing besides wait for each coming egg, each one a tally for his impending motherhood. The oppressive stretching did not occur to him more than the blinding euphoria of becoming more and more with child. Head slumped, slobbering like a dolt, he wanted more, more, more.

It was Griel who had to shut things down once Tav grew too bloated. He grabbed Meescha's appendage where it was buried inside Tav. “Alright, Darling. That will have to do it. We don't want to kill him."

A loudly moaning Meescha whimpered. “Ohhhhh, just one more! Please!"

“No! That's enough." Griel tugged on the ovipositor. It made a slow, grinding withdrawal from Tav until POP! It came free with a sudden jerk, the tips' sphincter half open and gushing out a milky, translucent glop which sprayed atop Tav's back and buttocks. More of it squirted from the dragonborn and out the Wagon's tailgate, into the grass. Tav's cloaca closed slowly to become a terribly battered, terribly swollen slit lathered with lubricating egg slime which it continued to cough up with his shudders and heaves.

Meescha let out a long sigh as the tension in her breeding tool eased and all the veins receded into the skin. The pucker went taut, and Griel let it down gently over the tailgate where it hung over the ground and dripped her fluids. “Ohhhhh, Tav, darling. You have no idea how much I needed that. Thank you so much."

Tav floated to the surface out from an ocean of dopamine. His eyes blinked out of sync, then together once the image of Meescha's face coalesced out of a blur. The few units of life clumped inside his womb sat inside him like a great mass all sitting on his organs and rearranging them. “Ahhhh… You're very welcome. I… Ugh… That wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be."

“Going in is always better than coming out," Griel said from behind Tav. “That part comes tomorrow in the morning."

That rattled the mood somewhat. “Oh… Great."

Griel walked up to the pregnant dragonborn and patted his back. “Like we said, we'll be here for you during that part. It will come in the morning. Until then, why don't we all just go to sleep?"

Tav chuckled weakly. “Aye. I can do that." He made an attempt at sitting up, only managing to lift his head and chest from Meescha's belly while his own remained pinned by the weight of his clutch. “Hahhh… Little help?"

“Sure," Griel said. He took Tav's arm and pulled him backwards so that he slid down and landed on his feet between Meescha's legs, almost stepping on her limp ovipositor. Griel helped him stand upright, a task made precarious by the new imbalance of weight.

Tav got his first good look at his mommy belly, that great paunch of ovoid mumps which made his still-dribbling udder stand out even further than it did when full. All that weight sat on his bladder, urging him to piss. He felt like making a quick trip to the nearest tree, but needed help getting there. “Um, if you don't mind… I might need help off this wagon."

Griel just smiled. “I told you, friend. We're here every step of the way."

“You're in good hands," added Meescha.

And so he was. Griel was patient in guiding Tav off the wagon so he could take care of his business. He promptly returned to camp where Griel rolled out his sleeping bag for him and helped him lie down. A grateful Tav lay flat on his back, that coming surge of motherhood feeling ready to burst at any moment. He closed his eyes, and very soon he was asleep.

***

Spllllllrrrssshhhhhhhh

Tav heard it before he felt it, that tsunami of water which spilled from his cloaca and flowered across his sleep roll and the dirt in a great fan of silvery ribbons, bleeding a wet warmth down his tail and inner legs. He awoke with a jolt and a gasp, the first hint of a contraction tearing at his womanhood like some great force ripping its way out of him. At once his legs opened into a bent V shape, matronly instinct. He let loose a howl and gawked through the space between his legs. The eggs were coming.

Griel was awake and tearing out of his sleeping bag before he even recognized what was happening. He sprinted over in just his underwrap and skidded to his knees in the grass next to Tav's violently squirming tail. “Here we go!" he hooted heroically. He peered down at Tav's cloaca and saw a familiar bulge of coming egg. “Push, Tav!"

That much came naturally. “HYEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH~~~!!!" A screeching wail unlike Tav thought he was capable of. Sheer white, razor sharp pain ripped a hole through him as the first egg, now much heavier and with a solid casing, asserted itself onto his sorely contracting cervix. It inched forth with awful ennui, casually spreading the flesh of Tav's cunt until at last the soft, rounded tip peeked its way into nature with a crisp alabaster made shiny by Tav's insides. It fell into Griel's open palms, warm and alive, ready to hatch a child.

A father's smile lit his features, but there was no time to celebrate. Another howl from Tav announced the coming of a second egg. Griel quickly but gingerly laid the egg down in the grass and cupped his hands for the next one. A howl, a curse, and a heave later there was another one crowning out of Tav and into Griel's proud possession. “Keep them coming!" cheered Griel. “Push! Push! You can do it!"

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

“There we go! Here comes the third one!"

“OH FUCK! HAHHHH! DAMMIT ALL! HUHHHHHH!"

“Yes! One more push! Come on! There it is! OK! Just a few more!"

A few more meant six, bringing the total to nine eggs. They sat in a small clutch next to a loudly panting, groaning, writhing Tav whose belly had mercifully gone flat. In the absence was a terrific void which rang euphoria and satisfaction throughout his body, even the sorely aching cervix. He slumped his head one way and saw the fruit of his labor gathered in that small pile. Griel was running over for a blanket to collect them all in, leaving Tav alone with them. Through the barely faded pain and bone-leadening exhaustion, Tav put on a smile. “Ahhhh… Ahhhh… Well… would you look at that…"

Griel hurried back over and gingerly laid each egg into a soft brown blanket before tying it into a big bundle. “Well done, Tav! Well done! Nine's not a bad haul, not at all."

“Nine?" huffed Tav. “I thought… It was just gonna be six…"

“Ah, well… Meescha can get carried away sometimes."

Speak of the devil. “Griel! Bring them here!"

Griel gathered the blanket of eggs into his arms. “You stay here. I'll be right back." He then scurried off to his eagerly waiting wife.

Tav gave a lazy wave. “Yeah, I'll do that…"

Meescha had a merry time cradling and inspecting her and Tav's clutch. She thanked him profusely through profuse tears, to which a battered and exhausted Tav simply said it was no problem. After double checking Tav's health, Griel gathered up camp with haste before resuming the journey to Matan. Meescha was in the back of the wagon cooing and lullabying to her clutch. Tav swayed and wobbled in his seat next to the proud father, slightly delirious from that morning's euphoric trauma. I gave birth. I laid eggs. I'm a mother. A woman put her eggs into me and I laid them like a regular hen. While those asinine statements reiterated in his head Griel was driving and chatting Tav's ear off. Tav, punch drunk to no end, could only nod and go “uh-huh" to whatever was being said. Griel could tell he wasn't paying attention, but he didn't press the dragonborn. He'd done enough for them already.

Night fell again, the last time it would before they made it to Matan, according to Griel. Tav had recovered enough to thank the heavens. His udder was bloated to something audacious, stretching the gown fabric nigh to the point of tearing off by the seams. The nipples stood out at a constant jut in all directions, letting fly their milky treasure with every shift and lean. He unloaded in the forest by himself per usual, but did not masturbate this time; his body would at least do him the mercy of sparing his cunt any more punishment. Laying on his back on his roll he stared up at the stars and prayed it would be the last time he would do so before he lost this udder and regained his manhood.

At last the small mountainside town materialized on the yonder road, those small set, tall stacked huts huddled on the base of the flanking mountains. The sign bearing the town's name was too far away to read, but Tav knew what it said. “Matan," he said out loud. “It's been a while." Griel, sensing his friend's anticipation, whipped the oxen faster.

They came into town, the road hugged by tall homes and choked by ambling traffic. Griel's wagon hit a crawl trying to navigate it, leaving Tav antsy in his seat. He was familiar with these streets, each turn of the head and flick of the eyes bringing the shock of deja vu. The market square was only a few blocks away, but between it and him was a throng of folk busy with their lives, carrying whatever and headed to some place Tav did not care for.

The wait was too agonizing. “Griel, it's been a pleasure, but I must depart." He didn't wait to hear any protest before swinging his legs over the edge and sliding off into the dirt onto both feet.

Griel dragged the wagon to a stop. “Whoa! You're leaving?"

Tav headed towards the back of the wagon to fetch his stuff. “Yup."

“Oh, well alright. It was nice meeting you! Thank you again for… helping us with that thing."

“Yeuh," said Tav as he hauled himself into the back of the wagon where Meescha was clutching the eggs. “Meescha, it's been a pleasure," he said in half truth.

“Oh, the pleasure was all mine," she cooed. “If you ever feel like you need your womb bloated again-" Tav felt something shift beneath her blanket. “-we won't be far."

He gave a shudder. “Er, right. Of course." He grabbed his pack and fell out the tailgate at the same time some impatient townsfolk were urging Griel to get a move on. The wagon lurched forward while Tav wove himself through the simmering crowd, knowing exactly where he was going and who to find. One year later, he hoped it would be the same fellow.

The market square was a short jaunt away, its claustrophobic confines full of passersby and boisterous shop owners at their stalls or busy at work inside their establishment. Tav drilled through the great morass of people, a stranger on a mission, his eyes on one tiny building which the sight of piqued his heartbeat into an ear-thrumming blur. Small, squat, and with just two foggy windows to look into and out of, it belied the evil it contained and which Tav had purchased so long ago. He all but tore through the swinging doors, his udder bearing the brunt of the impact and sloshing hard.

To his dismay, it was not the same man who he remembered sold him the milk, but a younger, scrawny human who jumped out of his skin upon the intrusion. He dropped the book he was reading and stood to his feet like a soldier in the presence of an officer. “Ah! Um, hello! I, erm…" He felt the raw, sphincter-clenching terror of seeing a tall, gaunt dragonborn in strange clothing charging the counter towards him. He thought he would die before he was grabbed by the collar of his gown and yanked towards the furious patron, almost across the counter where he got a whiff of Tav's bizarre scent.

“The milk," Tav growled inches away from the shop keeper's freckled, flinching face.

That's all he said, confusing the hell out of the poor lad. “W-what?"

Tav rattled him with another shove and yank. “Don't bullshit me! The milk! Where does it come from! How do I reverse it! I want my manhood back!"

The man winced away from each accusatory syllable. “Sir! Please! I don't know what you're talking about!"

It took Tav a moment to realize the optics of what he was doing. The pain, exhaustion, and trauma had boiled forth into a clenching moment of wrath which fell upon this perfectly innocent fellow whom he didn't recognize. Tav let go of him and patted his gown. “Terribly sorry. I… I came a long way to get here. I'm fairly short on patience by this point."

The lad took a step back from the counter and adjusted his clothes. “I can tell… Erm, you said something about milk? About…" He spoke quietly. “Your manhood?"

Tav's face grew hot. “Yes, I did. Forgive me for all of this, I've dropped a great hostility on you, and now I must regale you with what has brought me back here." Tav told him about him being a chef and his hobby of collecting rare ingredients. The fellow nodded along grimly, offering expressions of shock and disbelief with every bizarre turn. His eyes fell upon the shape of Tav's udder and its four teats poking into the silk when Tav brought it up. They respectfully came back up, but would make their return frequently. “...And now I'm here, and I need answers. Anything will help."

The lad gulped. “Well, I'm sorry to say, but I wasn't the owner who sold you that tainted bottle, nor was my father who owns this place now."

Tav's gut plummeted. “Oh…"

“But, I do know who he was! A conniving dwarf, squat and strong, even for his kind. Red beard? Balding?"

The dwarf's face flashed in Tav's mind as clearly as if he were the one talking right then. “Yes! Where is he?"

A sad frown. “That I don't know. Ran out of town by an angry group of strangers. This shop went up for auction, and my father won. What became of the dwarf, no one knows."

Misery. “No… No…" Tav lifted his hands in front of his face to hide it, but before he could they balled into a pair of furiously shaking fists. “There has to be something else you know, or anyone knows, about him. Anything. He sold rare foodstuffs. Where did he get them? Might someone know?"

“M-maybe. I know rumors were that he climbed Mount Regeer every week with several buckets strapped to him. I've seen him go. I never saw him return, but next I'd visit this place he'd be teeming with milk."

Hope. Tav could've kissed the lad for telling him as much as he could've slapped him for not saying that in the first place. “Oh, thank you! Blessed! Where is this Mount… whatever you said?"

“Regeer," he repeated. He went to a nearby shelf and retrieved a rolled-up map. He unfurled it on the counter and stabbed a finger on one prominent peak. “Not far from here, but it's the highest mountain for leagues and difficult to climb. Not sure what you'll find up there, but-"

Tav snatched the map off the counter and darted for the door. This is it! So close! Almost there!

“W-wait! You have to pay for that!" cried the shopkeeper.

He needn't worry. Tav untied his coin purse from his sack and let it thump to the floor before he darted out of there. It was all the lad's to keep, him being Tav's guardian angel.

***

Mount Regeer proved a disheartening sight. The shopkeeper wasn't lying when he said it was the highest mountain around, but that fell short of the peak's unforgiving sheerness. Tav came upon it at the end of a hurried hike on his lonesome, the energy fizzling to the very root of his wick when he reached the crest of one ridge and saw the indomitable hill. Tall crags nude of trees made Regeer's faces and slopes, the panels of wind-blown granite glowing hot in the waning sun. He saw no easy approach, not even along its laziest slope which knifed to the top with all the torpor of a rocket. It would require all his dedication and effort which he would muster over a night's sleep. After milking himself and masturbating, he went to sleep and dreamt of having a flat tummy and a penis again.

The ascent started in the morning after a quick breakfast. Down the valley and up the first leg he went, his pack still strapped to him. Moderate at first, the climb rapidly lost all agreeability once the thicket slimmed into raw rock and crag, demanding every ounce of Tav's grip and claw just to ascend a few feet. Pebbles crumbled off his hands and feet, ricocheting off the mountain beneath him and taunting him with the sounds of their rattles. Don't look down. Don't look down. That was for two reasons: to not trigger his innate fear of heights, and so he would remain ignorant of his progress. Nothing would be more morale depleting than going through hours of toil and sweat only to discover that he'd barely climbed a few yards.

His measure of progress would be the approaching summit, its gorgeous and unusually flat plateau a healthy thrush of trees and grass. The creature that gave that dwarf his milk has to be up there, Tav would remind himself when the strain on his palms and soles began to burn most unbearably. The bare granite scalded his scales. There wasn't much in his udder, but the weight of it never felt greater, nor the pack which swung and rattled on his back.

Regeer lost all slope near the top, becoming a treacherous tower without any horizontal reprieve. Tav called on all his grit and athleticism to pull himself up each escarpment, no matter how sheer. His hands and feet began to bleed, threatening to slick the rocks and send him plummeting. The distance between him and Regeer's root growled like a den of predators which clawed at his back, beckoning him to fall.

Sweating, panting, and sore, he hauled himself onto a small escarpment which was just big enough for him to lay down. He lay on it flat, face to the rock, panting hard so that the oxygen would refill his muscles. The energy to so much as lift his head and check his progress evaded him. If not for the dear dedication to reach the top he would've passed out right then and there. He had to go on, but for now, at least, he could rest. I will make it to the top. I will find this creature!

“It's alright, take as long as you need."

The coy voice of a woman came like a whip crack, making Tav gasp. Hugging the escarpment, he was able to turn his body just enough to look up the mountain's face. The sun was at its apex, drawing the character's figure with a dark silhouette Tav could not parse. He squinted and blinked hard, able to make out the lazily reclining figure settled atop a lip of rock several yards above him. Outstretched was her head, the unmistakable double crescent of a cow's horns swinging out from her crown.

“By all means, stay there and nap. It's not like you're the first visitor in almost a year. I can stand another day of solitude up here." The sarcasm was scathing. “Once you're all rested, come the rest of the way and we'll chat. I have a feeling I know why you're here." Then she retreated back over the lip where Tav couldn't see her. There was the sound of a great shifting weight and clopping hooves as she returned to the summit.

Brand new vigor for Tav. He all but shot up from the rock to continue his climb. The exhaustion made a sharp reunion with his bones the moment the adrenaline wore off, but that didn't stop him. He was at the top. Regeer's summit grass tickled his knuckles and nose. All he had to do was pull himself up, and it would all be over. All he had to do was-

Slip. The exhaustion had taken its toll. No more strength, no more energy, Tav's fingers fell through the grass's slippery blades and ripped through the vacant air to begin his long, but brief plummet. His heart floated in an iron cage of terror. He watched the summit fly away from him. The jaw fell open for a scream, but there was no sound. He was too tired.

A big, meaty grip on his wrist. The decelerating forces snapped his joints, and for the first time since his climb began he looked down to see several tools from his pack go tumbling into the miniature details of the valley far, far beneath him. “Oh God! Oh fuck!"

“Don't worry! I got you." Tav looked up and saw his savior, the handsome, ancient visage of a cow whose muscular arm gripped him by the wrist. Peril aside, her soft cerulean fur and its snowy trim wrinkled around a smile with those bountiful lashes flapping over crystalline eyes. “Hey there, traveler. Going up?"

Tav grabbed her by the wrist with his other hand. “Yes please," he wheezed.

“Alright, here we go." She hoisted him up without so much a grunt, the wiry sinews and tendons of her forearm bulging. At last the summit's green beauty peeled into view, and with it the cow's form. Tav saw more, more, and more of her until she stood at full height with him dangling from her grip with his feet hovering above the grass by several inches. She was a leviathan, her soft, ample curvature padded over a visibly strong and dense core of bovine muscle. Thighs like oaks supported her tremendous frame, curving into wide hips with the same abruptness as the horns on her head. The soft chub of her belly and chest was highlighted by the white of her underbelly and the mammoth udder that hung off her like a pregnant belly. It was supported by a giant cloth sash which was tied around her waist, her only form of clothing. So massive was it all that Tav could see himself bundled inside of it all, warm and protected from all the world's worries. He was in the presence of a goddess, and he knew that.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you…" he said breathlessly.

“No worries, hun. I'm just glad you're safe." She let him down onto his feet and even better demonstrated the great height deficit between them. Tav trembled where he stood, both from the fading adrenaline and from the glowing presence of such a queen. “Alright, you can let go now."

Tav realized he was still gripping her wrist for dear life. He let go quickly. “S-sorry. Sorry."

She smiled. “It's alright. Come on over here and take a load off. I know you've come a long way. Have some tea with me." She turned around and sauntered off towards the middle summit, mooning Tav with her hugely round, pompous blue ass grinding and bouncing with each step. The feminine flick of her cowtail was mesmerizing, that black brush tip dusting the grass as it went. Tav followed meekly, taking intense mind of his manners.

The cow came into a small ring of trees where a hammock was strung and a tiny fire pit was unlit. A tiny silver kettle sat atop a grill with two empty porcelain cups sitting in the dirt. She sat on a small, scissor-folding chair which supported her weight by some miracle. In a cloth bag was some tea which she tied into some bags and put inside the kettle. “So, what's your name, traveler? I don't want to jump to conclusions but I take it you're here because of that." She nodded her head at Tav's udder.

“Um, yes ma'am, I am. My name is Tav. I'm from rivington. I believe I consumed something from you that made me this way."

“Nice to meet you Tav." Once the tea bags were settled in the kettle she snapped her fingers. Poof! A petite flame rose from the pit and gave birth to a plume of white smoke. “And yes, that appears to be the case. Please, have a seat, and put that dreadful pack down."

The mention reminded him of the straps digging into his shoulders to the bone. He shrugged it all off and it hit the ground with a terrible clatter. Unburdened, he took a seat on one of the chairs and looked across the fire at his majestic host. “So, erm, what's your name?"

“My name?" She shrugged. “Oh, I have plenty. Great Blue Bovine, The Blue Matron Goddess of Milk, Big Blue… 'Blue' seems to be a recurring theme, so you can just call me that."

“Oh, alright… Blue." He looked around the camp. It was small with hardly any other amenities other than the fire and the hammock, all of which looked fresh and newly placed. The whole summit was far too small for even one person to live, and going up and down the mountain was a Herculean task, especially for a woman her size. There was no doubt anymore. Tav was in the presence of someone not of this world.

“So, you've come for my milk, have you?" she asked.

“Well, not exactly, unless that's what I need to rid me of this udder."

Her brow lifted. “Rid it? You don't want it?"

“No! That's why I came here!"

“Then why did you drink the elixir?"

So that's what it was. “It wasn't on purpose. A dwarf sold it to me some time ago. I put it in a dessert and woke up with this the next morning, plus a working cunt."

Blue's many soft rolls of flesh and udder jiggled when she laughed. “Ah, that was Basur, my last patron. Came here to harvest my milk every week. I blessed him with the elixir as gratitude. Dumb dwarf probably forgot what it did when he sold it to you."

“What elixir? Where does it come from? Why was he milking you? Why would you give him something that would give him an udder and a woman's parts?"

She frowned at his insolence. “What? Do you think an udder like this is for show?" She laid her hands on that Jovian milk organ and gave it a jolly shaking. “My milk is the finest in existence, creamy, thick, and sweet. Haven't you been tasting your own?"

Tav cringed at the thought. “No."

“The elixir comes from me on command. It blesses whoever drinks it with an udder of their own to make milk with so they don't have to come crawling to me. Drinking milk of an ill-developed udder can also make it spread to others. You haven't been letting others drink before today, have you?"

Tav thought about the orcs who bullied him at the fort. “No…"

“Well, that Basur was too proud to drink it, apparently, and rather come here every time. What happened to him anyway?"

“Run out of town, or so I was told," Tav said. “Lucky for him. I would've throttled him to death had I encountered him." Tav sighed. “I'm a chef. I collect rare ingredients. That's why I bought your elixir from him. I didn't know what it was or what it did, but now that I do I want to reverse the effects and have a normal life again."

“Rare ingredients, you say? Why, there isn't a better one in the world than what you have flowing out of you right now!"

“I appreciate that, and perhaps I should be grateful, but having to milk myself-" He blushed. “-and do other things, isn't quite worth it. It grows larger by the day, and I'm terrified of how much bigger it will grow if I let it continue."

“You look fully developed. I don't see it getting much bigger from there."

Tav shook his head. “Either way, I just want my manhood back. I came all this way. Please tell me there's a way. I'll do anything."

Blue sighed. She leaned her tremendous body over to pull the lid off the kettle and check the tea. She replaced the lid and sat back up. “There is a way," she said. Tav's eyes lit up. “But it will cost you. Two things you're going to have to do for me."

“Anything." Tav slid off his chair and onto his knees, into the grass. His hands clasped together and pumped in cadence with his plea. “I'll do anything. Please, just spare me of this burden."

A sultry grin on Blue's face. “Well, firstly…" She reached behind her and untied the sash. It was shoved off by the sudden and barbaric plummet of her udder, all that gossamer flesh crashing down into a portly, sagging shape. Four teats like fat sausages jutted excitedly, their dimpled ducts like orifices. “You'll have to milk me. The antidote can only be concocted by stimulus of the mouth, so I hope you're hungry."

All that udder made Tav shudder. “Ah, well alright. And that will bring my manhood back too?"

“Yes, and that's the second thing I need you to do." Her cow tail flicked out behind her. “Once it's back, I want it inside me. I haven't felt the touch of a man in centuries, not in that way. If you want your manhood back so badly, I expect you to use it~"

There was a rapturous stir in Tav's loins. There was the tickle and drip of milk seeping out of him and into the grass between his knees. “Yes ma'am," he said, eyes drifting about her awesome voluptuousness.

“Mmm, good~" Blue stood from her chair and waltzed her way to the hammock. She fell into it lazily, its thick hemp ropes straining and sinking into the supple flesh and sapphire fur. She grabbed her udder and moved it so that it sat atop her tummy like some great hemisphere of a planet all pink and veiny. Tav caught his first glimpse of her chunky cunt lips, already soaked and brimming like his own. She beckoned him over with a casual flick of her hand. “Come here, handsome. Ease your burden~"

Tav got to his feet and floated towards her, his clothes coming off in one fluid movement. When he reached the hammock all nude and moist, Blue grabbed him by the trunk and lifted him into the air. He made an excited look as he was maneuvered so effortlessly, finally coming to a rest with his legs astride Blue's brawny chest, facing her udder. His dragon tail laid over her shoulder, next to her head with his plump behind and sopping cunny in front of her face. Shivering, he looked upon her Jovian mammary like a great banquet. Her two top teats aimed at him as if competing for his attention.

Her chest buzzed pleasantly when she spoke. “Go ahead. You know what to do~"

So he did. Tav dove face first into her pillow, mouth falling upon and closing around one teat. It poked him to the root of the tongue and blessed him immediately with a droplet of that heavenly cream. It was a shot of endorphins to the brain, a taste like he'd never encountered even after years of being a chef. “Mmmmmm~" One suckle brought forth a shot into his throat, and there was no turning back. His cheeks imploded and his jaws bobbed. Smch-smch-smch-smch-smch-smch- Liquid goodness dribbled from his lips and warmed his tummy. He could stay there forever.

A happy coo from below. “Ooooooh, there we go. Told you it was good, didn't I?"

“Mmmmmmmmmmm~"

“Mmhmm, that's what I thought." Blue's gaze was on his quim currently gushing arousal onto her chest. With a cheeky smirk she produced two beefy fingers and prodded the lips before drilling him to the knuckle. That got a jolt and a whimper out of him. More came when she began to thrust and hook against his pearl. “Here, let me give you one last hurrah with these parts before they're gone."

Tav moaned and squealed between suckles. His milk-wreathed mouth came off her teat for a loud gasp, letting free a high-arcing squirt of that deliciousness which fell back down on Tav's blushing face and head. “Huhhh! Ahhhh! Yes! Ohhhh!" went his pathetic moans before he went back to business on Blue's gusher.

His tummy filled fast, but his udder unloaded faster. The antidote Blue produced made quick work of his udder by triggering an avalanche of milk out of all four his teats. It gurgled out of him in four directions, curving off Blue's trunk and dripping off the hammock to create a rippling pool of white beneath them. Blue savored the scene before her: a trembling, moaning man latched to her nipple, his sobbing cunt quivering and clenching around her fingers. His comparatively measly mammary was flattening between them, soon to become a bed of scaly abs like before. Until then, Blue would enjoy the warmth of his milk flowing off her as well as the greedy feel of his mouth.

Tav couldn't process more beyond the delicious nectar filling his mouth and bloating his belly. Only the impending orgasm would outglow it, eventually forcing him to pull off the teat again with a contorted face, mouth hung in an erotic O. “Huhhhhh-UHHHHHH! FUCK!" His climax hit hard, materializing as a rapid humping and a violent spew which crashed off Blue's fingers.

Blue flinched away in surprise. “Ho-ho! Look at that!" She stuck her big, hunky cow tongue right into the spray and squinted her eyes through the many droplets of girl water that splashed her face. The eruption faded into a drizzle, then a drip, marking the end of Tav's feminism and a very dear departure Tav would come to grieve in spite of himself.

Right now he was spasming and whimpering like a bitch. Milk sputtered out of his mouth as he fought to get a hold of himself. In the afterglow he could feel the mighty queer absence of his udder and the rapid restitching of flesh in his loins. His stomach felt ready to explode. He opened his uncoupled eyes and saw stars. Breathing hard and with a pounding heart, he flew much higher than the peak he laid on. “Hahhhh… Huhhhhh… Oh God… Huhhhh…"

He let out a squeak when Blue patted him on the butt. “Well, that's one part of our deal. Feeling better?"

Tav blinked back to reality and sat upright. A crisp air fell across his stomach. He laid a and on it and felt nothing but the smooth leather of a reptile's underbelly. Looking down, there was no udder to greet him but the sight of his cloaca lips. He put on a euphoric smile. “Yes… Oh yes… Finally. Thank you."

“You're welcome, but we aren't done yet. You've got something else, and now you'd better use it."

Tav had forgotten what it was like to have a penis, but a reminder was currently hardening and creeping its way out of him. It peeked from his cloaca first as a sharp conical tip of glossy pink, then lengthened the rest of the way into a veiny, dense pole. It bounced with a single hearty flex which catapulted a single glassy droplet of precum. Woven through that haughty scepter was the need to explode after many days' worth of build up and anxiety. Tav might have forgotten what it was like to have a cock, but his body did not. It was time to make up for lost time.

He huffed. “Holy shit." The horny dragonborn clamored over Blue's udder, brushing his dick across that super soft globe and earning his first bite of pleasure. He all but spilled into the hammock space between her huge chunky thighs. She was kind enough to open them for him, and when he turned around on his knees he found a fat, chunky pussy half gaped at him, that blinding sex flesh carved through her underbelly fur with all the delicacy of an earthquake. She was craning her head to smile at him over her udder.

He needn't be told what to do next. With one hand on the root of his cock and the other on Blue's inner thigh, he brought himself in line with her quim and drilled himself to the root in one fluid hump. Both lovers' heads were tossed back in a harmonious moan, blossoming pleasures in perfect tandem. The sweetness of a woman's grip on his newly grown pecker was better than the first time many years ago. It matched the swell and pulse inside Blue's velvet, that which she hadn't felt in many centuries.

“Yeeeessssss~" groaned the goddess. “Ohhh, Tav. Fuck me~"

He let out a gross sound. “Ugggghhhhhhhhhh… Yes ma'am." He reeled back to deliver the first thrust, one that fed immediately into a rapid, blubber-shaking jackhammer. Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! His hips and cock were a blur in the air. Tav was tiny compared to her, but behind each hump was the power to rock her body into the hammock's ropes and make her feel like the Queen she was.

“Ohhhhh! Yes! HUHHHH! TAV!" Those huge legs wrapped around him like two Goliath anacondas, forbidding any escape. He welcomed her possessive grip with an even harder, faster stroke. He held onto her trunk for dear life, his stupid face twisted by ecstasy and dripping milk and spit down the chin.

His thrusts grew sporadic with a sudden, swelling pleasure. The abandoned kettle still simmering atop the fire began to tweet quietly, then crescendoed into a shrill whistle. Tweeeeeee-

eeeeeEEEEEEEEEE-! Tav fired one last hump. Glutes clenched hard, head thrown back, he howled to the heavens and let loose his first orgasm as a born-again man. “HRRRNNNNGGGH-

HHHHHHHNNGAAAAAUUUHHHHH~~~!!!"

Blue howled with him, turning the duet into a discordant triplet of howls, caterwauls, and whistles. She felt his seed spurt into her womb, filling it shortly and then spurting out from between their conjoined fleshes. Her cunt quivered and clenched around him for every drop, not stopping even when his valiant cock muscle had spat free the last pearlet. Spent, Tav slumped atop her udder with a fleshy plap! He was out like a light.

A swooning Blue switched between a satisfied smile and an erotic O. “Ohhhhh, Tav. Mmmmmm… Oh, that was wonderful. Huhhhhh… I haven't felt that in so long… You made the centuries worth it." She opened her eyes and saw him motionless atop her mammary with his cheek squished against it. A snore rattled out his throat while a trail of slobber-milk trailed down her udder. The tea kettle continued to shriek nearby, waiting to join them in joyous release. “Tav?" She patted his face, but he wasn't waking up. The kettle whistled louder and louder, and Tav remained slumped atop her like a big, dead weight. She chuckled and patted his head. “Don't worry. I'll get it."

***

Warm. Soft. Woman. It feels so good. I'm a man again. Her legs wrapped around me. Belly full of milk. Udder gone. Cock between my legs. I'm flying. I'm in heaven. I'm cumming. I'm…

Tav woke up with a smack of the lips. What materialized above him was not the morning sky like he'd woken to these past few days, but the familiar wood ceiling of his bedroom. His mattress was soft but firm beneath him, much more accustomed and fitting to his shape than the cold, hard ground. There wasn't the urge to milk himself or masturbate. With the sheets woven about him in a swaddle, he felt like staying right there and going back to sleep. He certainly tried, closing his eyes and letting out a long exhale.

Wait. His eyes snapped open and he shot upright. The sheets unraveled from around his nude body. I'm home? He looked around. Yes, this was his bedroom. A pat on his stomach confirmed that the udder was gone and a more intimate inspection of his cloaca showed that a flaccid penis lay inside. He felt energized and rested, not like he'd been hiking on foot for the past week through trial and trauma. Was it all a dream?

He slid out of bed and saw a tunic folded neatly atop his dresser. Holding it up revealed that it was the one he'd fashioned a gown into. No. Not a dream. How the hell did I get here? There was something else on the dresser: a folded note for him to read. He opened it and read:

Dear Tav,

You fell asleep on me during our visit. I thought to wake you but I considered how long and troublesome your journey had been so I let you sleep. I hope all is right with your body and that it is the way it was before you drank my elixir. I do apologize for all the trouble it put you through. I also want to thank you for our brief time together. Your reward is in your kitchen. Should you ever want more, you know where to find me.

Your friend,

Blue

It seemed unbelievable even as the proof was in his hands. She brought me all the way back here? How? How did she know where? But before he would ponder too much on that, he went to the kitchen to find his “reward". It was stacked in a pyramid in the middle of the floor, dozens of glass bottles of milk filled to the top and sealed tight. Tav picked the top one up and saw his reflection in the glass. Tiny bubbles drifted through the creamy goodness which he noticed had the fainted blue tint to it. Tav laughed to himself. Looks like I'll be baking for a while now. I'll be the best in all of Faerun.

But that wasn't everything. In a single, smaller bottle resting beside the pyramid was a different white liquid, one that wasn't milk. It wasn't marked, but Tav knew exactly what it was and what it would do. He hid it in the deepest recesses of his pantry, hoping never to so much as crack it open. Part of him thought of smashing it on the ground outside or tossing it into the river where hopefully he'd never see it again.

But another part of him told him to hold on. Maybe he would need it. He would run out of Blue's milk and need some more, wouldn't he? The rapture of the female orgasm would ring through his mind forever. Maybe he would want to repeat it. Maybe he would want to find a big, hunky dragonborn stud to make love to him. Maybe there was a sweet Ovipen couple needing a surrogate mother. Maybe there was a tall mountain out near Matan that he would climb again one day and find a big, beautiful goddess waiting for him.

THE END