Topic: Cream

Wrote a short, silly story about udders: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … 656d5110a3


“Eww! What the fuck!?”

Drew blinked his tired eyes, “Sorry, what?”

The woman, a slender twenty-something in a grey athleisure top and yoga pants was holding up her coffee and glaring at him. “Is there something wrong with your drink?”

The woman’s green eyes flashed with anger, “You put *cream* in this didn’t you?”

Drew starred at her latte in dawning worry. Oh shit, maybe he did? He makes so many lattes on a shift, and it was almost closing time, and he maybe shouldn’t have stayed up all night playing games and watching twitch. Best to err on the side of apology. “Holy cow, I’m sorry! Are you lactose intolerant? I can make you another with soy if you give me just a minute. Free of charge.” He tried smiling at her, his weedy crooked smile.

“I ordered a nonfat decaf skim latte, you cretin.” Was it his imagination or did her eyes look greener?

Drew put his hands up, “I’m very sorry, I’ll make you one right now. Okay?”

“No. We are not okay.” The woman’s skin was turning green and her honey-coloured hair was becoming black, stirred by an unseen wind. Her grey sports top grew black and diaphanous, lengthening into something more like a tunic. Her yoga pants had become a black so perfect that it hardly seemed possible. Drew’s heart started to race, what the fuck? He looked around, but the handful of late night patrons in the coffee shop continued to chat or study as if everything was normal. The now green woman took her yoga mat off her back and he watched her mold it into a black wand of crooked ebony wood. Was this even happening? Was he on drugs? He wanted to shout for help, but somehow he found that he couldn’t. The witch placed her incorrect latte on the counter and licked her emerald lips. “I think you need to learn a lesson about how upsetting unwanted cream can be.”

The light in the coffee shop grew dimmer, except around the witch, who seemed to glow with an eldritch fire. A smile tugged at her lips as she twisted her wand in the air, energy accumulating around it’s tip making the hairs on Drew’s arms stand on end. The witch chanted in a voice that was not sound and with words that strained comprehension. Drew felt feverish, his heart and head pounding. With a final flourish, the witch levelled the ebony wand at Drew and discharged a burst of magical energy into him. A flash of terrible heat surged through him, followed by a painful pinprick tingle that shot from his heart to the tips of his every limb. Drew tried to scream but no words escaped his gaping mouth.

Drew gasped and slumped forward, grabbed the counter for support. When he looked up the witch was a normal looking yoga woman again, smiling at him pleasantly. She picked up up her coffee, offered Drew a little wink, and walked away, calmly as that.

Drew breathlessly watched the witch leave, saw her stroke her to-go cup with once-again green hands, felt a spark of eldritch energy surround the cup. She took a sip and let out a happy sigh, “Nonfat decaf skim latte...”

As soon as he could make himself stand, Drew took stock of himself. Did he feel different? Was anything wrong? Other than being freaked the fuck out he felt okay. Or was his racing heart and clammy skin more than just fear? Should he go to the hospital? And tell them what? That he was just zapped by a green-skinned woman that he thought was probably, definitely a witch? That was crazy! Preposterous! No one would believe him. Drew looked again at the customers who were still unaware that anything magical had happened. Did he imagine it? Was he having a psychotic episode? Hallucinating from exhaustion? Did his roommate drug him as a joke? He looked at his hands, patted down his body. He was still all there and other than the whole witch thing his perception seemed normal... But what if she was a witch? Did she *actually* put a hex on him for messing up a coffee order? Does this mean magic is real? He didn’t feel cursed and nothing bad had happened. Maybe she was just fucking with him? Like a magic prank to scare him a little... Or was this some sort of stunt, for like a youtube channel? Was he being discretely filmed? Were his customers in on it? Was he about to go viral?

Drew made himself take a deep breath and count to ten. He was okay. That may or may not have been real. He may or may not have been cursed by a witch. But until he had evidence that anything was amiss he should carry on with his shift and just keep an eye out for anything strange. Hope this was all some one off delusion or bit of cosmic weirdness. A blip.

“Hey, sorry guy, can I get a donut and a decaf Earl Grey?”


Drew awoke in his bed, late morning light streaming into his small bedroom. He dosed, stretched, luxuriated in the feeling of soft sheets and warm blankets and not having anywhere to be. He began to feel a certain stirring, a growing hardness in his crotch. He smiled, this was a perfect morning to indulge his morning wood. He rolled onto his back, propped himself up on his pillows, and reached under his blanket to feel his cock. But, something felt off. Not right. Instead of encountering the hot rubbery urgency of an erection, his swelling cock felt soft, squishy, and round. And it was still growing, swelling like a big fleshy sphere. Drew blinked, his cock felt like a breast. He pulled his blankets aside and stared down his thin body to see a pink ball of flesh propped between his legs instead of his morning boner. He gasped, watched the ball continue to grow and sprout four bumps which lengthened into finger sized cylinders. What the fuck was happening? Drew squeezed the growing sphere and moaned in pleasure, except it came out as a “Moooooo.” The pink ball continued to grow, becoming a hot weight that pressed his pelvis into the mattress, a bulky mass that pushed his thighs apart, made him spread his legs. And it was tight, so tight, like it was full of something under enormous pressure. It felt good, so good, but it was also uncomfortable, nearly painful. Drew stroked one of his four growths, gasped at the feeling, like having his cock stroked. He grasped the cylinder in the palm of his hand, gave it a gentle tug like a cock. He mooed in pleasure and felt something like a tiny ejaculation as a bead of something white dribbled out of his body. It didn’t look like cum, it was too watery and thin. Hesitantly he wetted his finger in it, brought it to his face sniffed it and, not knowing what else to do, he licked it.

It was milk.

His body was making creamy, thick milk. He just tugged on a nipple, no, a teat, and made milk. From his udder. *His* udder. His udder that his cock had just turned into.

Because he was cursed.

“Oh fucking no....”

His udder that was painfully full. Painfully full of milk that felt like cumming when he milked it out. Drew bit his lip, this was too fucking weird, he didn’t want to touch this, this alien thing on his body but it hurt and he knew the only way to find relief was to empty it. To milk himself.

Drew looked away, ran his hands over his udder, caressed it, shivered at the pleasure of it. He squeezed it, making milk bead on his teats, making him moo in pleasure. Taking a deep, shuddering breath he grabbed two of his teats and started to pull on them, to work them like two small cocks, panting and mooing as each tug expressed a dribble of milk, which ran down his udder, over his body, onto his mattress. The pleasure was incredible, like a chain tiny orgasms, but with a building need, like he was ramping up to some kind of bigger climax. Drew milked himself faster, harder, switching his hands between teats, stroking every part of his udder. His hips bucked below the weight of his altered crotch, and he mooed, unable to keep himself quiet. Until he reached some sort of breaking point, and all at once he felt a crescendo of pleasure as his udder rapidly contracted, squeezing out whatever milk was left inside in four jets of milk that sprayed in glistening arcs across his bedroom. Drew bellowed like a cow, arched his back, and nearly passed out from the intensity of the orgasm that ripped through his body.

Drew came back to himself panting, spattered with milk on a very soggy mattress. He looked down and saw his cock had shrunk back to its normal flaccid self, small and limp, foreskin wrapped over his glans.

What the fuck had just happened? His cock just turned into an udder and he had milked himself to an incredible orgasm. Had that been real? Was he still in a psychotic episode? Was this the hex? He looked down at his flaccid cock, totally normal looking. Was it over then? Was he now back to his familiar self, lesson learned, free to live his life as normal? Fuck he hoped so. Or did he? That did feel pretty amazing... But he would be a freak! And how would he fuck a woman with an udder for a cock? Drew pressed his hands to his face, what the fuck am I going to do?

Drew startled as he heard a knock at his bedroom door. “Dude is everything okay in there?” It was his roommate Dave.

“Yeah everything is fine!” Drew guiltily pulled his blankets over his milk damp body. “Why do you ask?”

“Well it sounded like someone was mooing in there...”

“I was... watching cow videos?”

“...Okay? Well, turn the volume down, it’s weird.”


“Whatever man. Oh! Speaking cows. Can you grab me some milk when you go to the store today?”


Drew steered his shopping art into the cereal isle. Nothing like a boring chore to get his mind off of whatever the fuck was wrong. Yep, no weird boners or udders here, just Fruit Loops, Cheerios, and Corn Flakes. And there is nothing sexy about Corn Flakes. Drew snagged a family sized box, gave it a cheerful shake, and dropped it into his cart. Compartmentalization for the win!

He thumbed open his phone and checked the shopping list written in his notes app. Boring familiar cereal? Check. Produce? Check. Chips, chips, and more chips? Check, check, and check. Really checks all over, he was nearly done. All that was left was to grab the perishables and the frozen food and get out of there. Oh, and grab a jug of milk for Dave.  Drew headed down the aisle and took a left, heading straight for the familiar glass doors of the dairy cooler. He stopped the cart and looked for the 2% milk his roommate preferred and just stared.

That was a lot of milk.

A lot of creamy, white, delicious milk.

Milk that had been sucked out of udders; big pink, swollen udders. Teats slipped into sucking, pulsing machines, rhythmically draining. Or, he bit his lip, maybe it had been milked by hand. Tugged out by soft, feminine hands. He felt a heat in his crotch, the stirring of an impending boner and... oh fuck!

Drew panicked! Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts! Baseball! Adorable baby kittens! Old men in pool changing rooms! Anything! He didn’t want to pop a boner in the grocery store, or worse, bloom an udder! How would he hide that? He had to get himself under control!

“Excuse me,” said a pretty voice. Drew automatically stepped aside, and a lithely gorgeous woman slipped past him to the dairy cooler. She set down her shopping basket, opened the cooler door, and bent way down, reaching for something on the bottom shelf, her yoga pants hugging her perfectly toned ass. Drew’s eyes automatically tracked to her shapely behind and he felt blood rushing back to his nether regions. He saw the woman grab a chilled bottle of heavy cream and he felt his crotch move, start to balloon. She placed the cream in her basket, and gracefully stood, shooting Drew a dirty look as she sashayed away. Drew blushed and quickly looked away.

Drew took deep breaths, tried to calm himself, tame the globe of flesh in his pants. Don’t think about that beautiful woman. Don’t think about milk. Don’t think about that beautiful woman popping open her glass bottle of cream, putting it to her lips and drinking it, slowly, letting some of the thick, white cream dribble out of her mouth, drip off her chin, run in rivulets down her long elegant neck and onto her... “Moo!” No! Ah! Drew felt his crotch grow hotter and swell more, now an obvious, straining sphere in his pants. He had to get out of there, had to escape before his udder exploded, showed everyone what a freak he was!

Making a snap decision, Drew abandoned his cart, started heading for the exit, walking stiffly, hunched, hoping his posture would disguise an udder like an unwanted erection. He could feel his udder growing with every step, straining to burst out. A security guard looked at him funny, started to head his way. Drew groaned and moved faster, aware of the way his swelling udder was making him waddle, the growing weight of it making his pants sag. People were starting to stare, but he managed to get into the parking lot, hobble to his car and drop inside. He reached to start the ignition when, with an audible tearing sound, his udder split his fly open and shredded his underwear, exposing the massive globe of pink mammary tissue. Drew yelped and through his jacket over his udder, hiding it. But he could still feel it there, a huge, hot weight, engorged with milk and growing fuller and more uncomfotrtable by the moment. Drew started his car with shaking hands, put his car in gear, and gingerly started to drive home, mooing at the feeling of his legs jostling his udder as he worked the pedals.

By the time a shakey, sweating Drew pulled up to the sagging Victorian duplex he lived in, his udder was painfully tight and had grown to the size of a real cows udder. He could barely lift his legs for the size and weight of it. He pulled into his parking spot and scanned around to make sure the coast was clear. He really didn’t want anyone to see him labor his way inside with a huge udder hanging from his body. An udder that was, afterall, his exposed, cursed penis. He didn’t see anyone, so being careful to keep his jacket over his udder, he unlocked the door, stepped out, and just about jumped out of his skin when he heard a friendly “Howdy neighbour!”

Drew froze and looked over to see Mrs. Brown, his landlady. The pleasant elderly woman owned the duplex and rented out half of it to supplement her income. “How’s it going?”

As subtly as he could, Drew adjusted his jacket for maximum coverage. “Uh, um good? Just, um, coming back from the grocery store?”

“Where are all your groceries then?”

“I just stopped off for some mmmmmmo- milk. Milk.”

Mrs. Brown frowned at him through her thick old lady glasses. “Did you forget it?”

“The milk is here, under my jacket. I’m trying to keep the sun off it? To stop it from spoiling?” He smiled his best insincere smile, “UV radiation, you know?”

Mrs. Brown frowned and shook her head, looking more bemused than suspicious. “Well you had best get it into the fridge then, before the sunshine ruins it.”

Drew nodded and smiled, slowly backed away from his landlady and up the steps to his apartment. Mrs. Brown watched him go, head tilted in confusion. He fumbled the unlocked door open, and stepped inside. “Weird kid,” he heard Mrs. Brown mutter as the door closed behind him. Drew looked around, saw that Dave’s bedroom door was closed and heard the sounds of gunfire coming from within. Dave was home but gaming, good. Drew waddled towards their shared bathroom, lurching with the weight of his huge udder, teats nearly dragging on the floor. He winced, it really did hurt. He slipped inside the bathroom, climbed into the bathtub and sat, shivering as his sensitive udder touched the cold metal. He looked down at himself, at the big pink bag of flesh filling half the tub. He needed to milk himself. He wanted to. “Mooo.”

He reached down and grasped a teat, tugged on it, mooed, as a jet of milk sprayed out like a tiny orgasm. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, pretended that it was a woman pulling on his teat. Pretended the hands now milking two of his teats were smaller, softer than his. In his imagination he looked down at his udder and it was the beautiful woman from the grocery store bent over him, furiously working his udder. “Mooo!” He held onto the mental image as he milked himself furiously, going teat to teat, mooing and kicking the bathtub, as he slowly emptied himself in a haze of pleasure. He felt his udder’s climax coming, that point of orgasmic contraction, and he pretended the beautiful woman was licking her lips, leaning over his him, bending like she did at dairy cooler, mouth open to put his teat in her mouth and. “MOOOOOOOOO!” Drew screamed and felt his udder contract forcefully, more than a gallon of milk shooting out of his body all at once, spraying across the bathroom, soaking him in his own milk. “MOOOOOooooooooooooohhhhhh....”

Drew leaned back in the tub, panting, his cock now shrunken back to its limp normal. He prodded his flaccid dick cautiously, careful not to arouse it back into an udder. He really was cursed. His cock turned into an udder whenever he got an erection. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Fuck? His phone buzzed in his milk damp pants and he saw a text message from Izzy, the girl he was seeing. “Are we still on for tonight? I’m really looking forward to seeing you!” Oh fuck, he had a date tonight. Fuck. What was he going to do?

And then he heard a knock on the door. “Dude, what the fuck? I heard mooing again. Are you okay?”

Drew tried to make it sound like he wasn’t winded, “I’m fine....”

“Dude you are being super weird. And where are your groceries? Did you get any milk?”


Drew was sitting at a table in a bar and was trying to keep it together. After cleaning his milky bathroom, and starring at the ceiling of his bedroom for hours, he decided to go on his date. His cock was only an udder when it was aroused, and he didn’t foresee that being a problem on his date. Izzy was a recent thing, and they weren’t sleeping together yet, and he hadn’t popped a boner on any of their other dates. Plus they went to see a movie, the Big Lebowski at the local arthouse theatre. He could sit through a movie and go for a drink without growing an udder. If the Dude abides, why couldn’t he? And so far he had managed to keep cool and not have any embarassing transformations.

Izzy bounced back to their table with a pair of drinks and an impish grin. Drew couldn’t help but smile back at her, she was so pretty and cute. Izzy was short, and very skinny, and had an enormous cloud of untameable curly brown hair. She plopped their drinks on the table, climbed into her seat, and slid his drink to him. Drew looked down at his drink, and saw... a glass of milk? Oh no. “White Russians,” Izzy said with a wink, “in honor of the Dude.” Drew watched in horrified fascination as Izzy lifted her drink to her lips and took a long sip, letting out a contented little sigh. She had a white milk moustache on her top lip, and she playfully licked it clean. Drew blushed and looked upwards, willed his body not to react. Izzy giggled, apparently pleased at his reaction.

Drew took a few deep breaths and slammed his drink down at once, hoping the alcohol might help. The creamy flavor of milk was obvious despite being mingled with Kahlua and vodka. “You seem tense,” Izzy observed, swirling her creamy, milky drink.

Drew tried not to grit his teeth, “I guess the White Russians aren’t really agreeing with me tonight? Sorry...”

Izzy brought her cup back to her mouth and with great relish drank the rest of her drink, a bead of Kahlua stained milk escaping at the corner of her lips. “You know, I’m not really feeling the bar thing tonight either.” She smiled easily, somehow blessed not upset with Drew. “Walk me home?” Since Drew’s car was parked at her place he didn’t really have any choice.

They slipped out of the bar and onto the chilly street. Izzy took his hand and leaned in close, smiled up at him. Despite all of the weirdness of the moment, Drew really, really liked her. Izzy was so fun and playful, such a quietly good person. He didn’t quite understand what she saw in him, why she wanted to go out with him in the first place, or why she had stuck with it for these few weeks, but he was super happy about it. He really didn’t want to fuck it up. He just hoped he could solve his curse problem before things got more intimate between them. Maybe he could see a doctor? Or a witchdoctor? Or a priest? Or...

And they were at Izzy’s apartment building and she was pulling him inside and up the stairs. “Come on,” she said smiling, “I’ll make us some coffee and we can hang out. Maybe I can help you relax?” Drew wanted to protest, say he was feeling sick or something, but he was already swept up in her gravity and into her tiny apartment. His first time inside of it really. He marvelled at the small space with it’s sagging bookcases and stacks of books almost everywhere else. He knew Izzy loved books, that she worked in a bookstore, but the physical manifestation of her passion was impressive. He saw Izzy slip behind the folded out screen that hid her sleeping area from her living space. He studied her tiny kitchenette, messy with cooking debris and uncleared dishes. He heard a rattle and looked over and there was Izzy wearing nothing but panties and a red, transparently sheer negligee.

Drew immediately felt his heart pounding, felt blood rushing to his crotch. “Wh-what?” He stammered mouth dry.

Izzy smiled at him shyly, lifted her left hand up. She looked at it, “I really like you.” She lifted her right hand up too, which did something interesting with her small breasts in the lifting embrace of her lingerie. “I also like sex a lot.” She brought her hands together and looked back up at him, “So I thought why not embrace both? We’ve been dating a few weeks, isn’t it time to see if the chemistry really works?”

Drew mooed, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted Izzy so bad, had for weeks, and now that the opportunity had presented itself, he was powerless. But the urge was to strong to resist, his body was already reacting. With an audible bang his pants split open and his underwear was torn apart as his cock immediately swelled into his great, pink udder, already painfully engorged. Drew mooed again, painfully aroused but mortified at what had just happened.


Except Izzy didn’t look horrified. In fact she looked into it. “Oooo,” she cooed, “look how *big* you grew for me.” She took a step forward, while starring right at his udder. Drew took an involuntary step backwards, tripped on a pile of books, landed sitting on a couch. Izzy kissed him, hungry on the mouth, slid her hand along Drew’s udder, making him shiver and moo into her mouth. “You like that?” Izzy dragged her fingernails over his udder, making him squirm, she grasped a teat, tugged it, smiled triumphantly at the bead of milk it produced. Drew mooed again. It felt so good! But...

“Izzy?” He gasped, “aren’t you weirded out? By my udder?”

Izzy blinked her eyes in confusion, “Why? It’s a perfectly normal udder.”

“Doesn’t it seem weird that *I* have an udder?”

“No? Does it seem weird that I have tits?” She smiled reassuringly at him, “Don’t feel self conscious, I happen to think you have a very sexy udder.”

Drew was confused. How did this not seem incredibly weird to her? He had a fucking udder instead of a cock! She should be freaking out instead, of oh, “Moo,” stroking it, kissing it. Was the curse invisible to her? Was he the only one who could tell he had been changed? And then Izzy was licking his teat and “Oh fuck it! Mooooo!”

Izzy lifted her tangle of hair out of her face, grabbed Drew by a teat, and slowly slipped it into her hot, wet mouth. Izzy started to suck, to suckle, to drink his milk straight from his udder. Drew mooed and bucked his hips, it felt like a blow job, but one where he came a little with every single suck. Izzy released the first teat and switched to the next one, stroking and caressing and squeezing, working her way around his udder, suckling from all four of his teats. Drew mooed and gasped, lost in the bizarre pleasures of his strange new organ. How could it be this weird and this good? “Mooo!” And then Izzy latched onto a teat and stayed there, suckling furiously, hands grabbing another pair of teats, rhythmically tugging on them. Drew could feel his udder starting to push towards climax. He mooed and grabbed Izzy’s bobbing head, dug his fingers into her thick tangle of hair, urged her on. He grabbed his one free teat with his free hand, milking himself, adding to the growing symphony of sensation. He felt himself emptying of milk, a staccato of tiny orgasms, but also a building, building, building to a monstrous orgasm until “MOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” He was bellowing as his udder contracted, gushing milk, spraying Izzy who remained clamped onto his teat, determined to drink down as much of as milk as she could. “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

He was laying on Izzy’s couch, his cock now a flaccid penis again. His hands and feet tingled and he felt deliriously euphoric. Izzy smiled down at him, milk dribbling down her chin, splashed across her chest and face. She wiped up some of the milk on her chin and slipped her wet finger into her mouth. “Mmmm,” she purred, “Delicious.” Drew could see through her negligee that her skinny belly was swollen a little, full of his milk. Izzy stepped out of her panties and lifted up the hem of her red negligee, climbed on top of Drew, and said “Now that I’ve had my fill of cream, I think it’s time for you to eat your desert.”