HuCow's Delicious Milk
The figure moved with ease through the department store. It was excited to leave its current pair of panties behind in this location. After the last one, Cherry Tart, had made Delilah White into a perpetual virgin, the figure wanted to try another form of body modification. It had an idea for a delicious one. It was why the current pair of panties looks so much like the white and black pattern of a dairy cow. There was a simple question written on the rear.
Got Milk?
The figure was eager for this new fun. Mind-controlling girls gave it such a rush, but transforming them was just as much fun. There were so many wicked things it could do with this magic. This game was exciting. It couldn't wait for that wonderful rush that imposing its will on its target would bring.
It couldn't wait for the girl to try on these panties. She was just perfect for it. It had found her, peering through the mist that fell from the waterfall in its lair. The perfect girl to be transformed.
The shoppers in the huge box store paid no heed to the figure. It slipped between them, almost flowing like shadows. Nondescript and unremarkable shadows. Its true form was utterly alien, but they didn't see it as anything more than the background. Their eyes slid across the figure to stare at what they really were here for.
All the material goods spread out before them. The wealth of nations brought to their fingertips.
They had no idea how fortunate they were. They took it all for granted.
Not that the figure cared. It just wanted to satiate its own lust for mischief.
The figure reached its destination: the Junior Miss section. It was for girls who were ten to thirteen to shop at. Of course, its target was older than that. Not that she looked it. That's what made her perfect. On a rack holding bras that were little more than trainers, it draped the panties.
The figure shuddered, eager for the fun to begin. Then it flitted away. It moved through the shopping crowd, heading back towards the store's automatic doors. The mist awaited. Back to its lair to watch the fun.
It trembled in anticipation. It could feel its prey coming closer and closer to the section.
Abigail Hart hated having to go to the Junior Miss section shop for her clothes. She was nineteen. Nineteen and four foot eleven! She looked like a twelve-year-old girl and had the chest to match. She barely qualified as an A-cup. She kept hoping and hoping her breasts would grow, but nothing seemed to work. Not any of the apocryphal ideas she'd gotten off the Internet-- she'd drunk whole milk every day for a year and had nothing to show for it--nor did the suggestions from her friends.
She played with her nipples when she masturbated.
She secretly bought a breast pump and placed it over her little buds, hoping the suction would grow them.
She wanted them to be bigger. She'd settle for a B-cup. Something more than the little mosquito bites she currently had. Something that would make her look anything close to her age.
Because of her childish build, she was suspicious of any guy who wanted to date her. They were always such pervs. The rest of the boys wanted girls with big breasts. Huge honkers. The type of lush sweaters pillows they could snuggle up to.
It wasn't fair. Her mother wasn't flat-chested. Her mother had tits. Her mother would just say, "Abigail, you'll blossom one day. You'll see. You got to be patient. You're a late bloomer."
At nineteen, it was hard to keep believing that.
She sighed when she reached the bra section. She hated having to browse here. She couldn't get anything sexy. She wasn't even sure why she bothered.
Like I need
any
support
, she thought. The only thing that had developed were nipples. They were getting bigger. When they got hard, they were noticeable. And that just embarrassed her. At least a training bra helped to hide them.
She slouched up to the display, gazing at the selections and...
"Got milk?" she read, staring at the panties.
She grabbed them, studying at the dairy cow pattern on them. She frowned, her fingers sliding over the letters. A tingle rippled through her. Thoughts of buying a new bra were abandoned.
Why do I need a bra?
she thought to herself.
Panties in hand, she marched up to the cashier. The tingle coursed through her body the entire time. The cashier felt it, too. They went through the motions of her paying, but at no point had any barcode been scanned nor had any money been exchanged. After all, the panties weren't the store's. They were Abigail's. They were made for her. If anyone else took them, the results could be unpredictable.
A gymnastics coach had learned that.
Then Abigail was out the door and heading home with strange ideas of large mammaries, heavy udders, filling her young mind.
* * *
Abigail Hart
I stared down at my flat chest and shook my head. Every morning, I hoped that something would happen.
That there would be
some
amount of growth that would've happened overnight. They were barely more than bumps. My nipples had developed nicely, my areolas wide, my nubs thick. When erect, they thrust out fairly far. There were girls my age, like Courtney, with tits much bigger who didn't have nipples half my size. It was so unfair.
I'd rather have small nipples and huge tits then the reverse.
"I'm never going to get a boyfriend," I muttered. I stared at myself in the mirror. I had no hips. I wasn't even five foot tall. At nineteen, I'd given up hope of gaining any more height. I would forever be short. My mother had 3 inches on me and D cups to boot. Why had genetics abandoned me?
I threw on my new pair of panties I'd bought yesterday. The dairy cow pattern on them was... exciting. They made me tingle when I touched them. It ran all the way up to my breasts. My nipples. I could almost fantasize that if I put on these panties, I would grow huge tits. Just the largest udders. Bigger than double D's. Then F-cups. Then G or maybe even in H-cups.
Maybe I'd gain J-cups like that Japanese porn star.
God, she must be as tall as me, and she had massive tits. I could be like her. In my dreams, I was.
I stepped into the panties and groaned as that tingle raced up my thighs. I wiggled my hips, my flesh electrified. So incredible. My nipples hardened. The naughty itch formed in my pussy. Huge mammaries danced in my mind. Just the biggest, softest boobs. It made me want to masturbate. To get out the breast pump and finger my twat while stimulating my nipple.
But I had to get to my college.
I smoothed the black and white panties over my rump and then traced the waistband around to the front. They fit perfectly. I kinda liked the look. Like I was a dairy cow. I could be a human cow with big udders just full of creamy milk.
Milk?
Why did I think of
that
? What was with these panties?
I shook my head, putting that hopeless fantasy out of my mind. Even if I got pregnant and had a kid, how big would my tits even get? Go up a size? I might finally be an A-cup in truth. I would never be like that porn star with those big, massive J-cups.
I thought her name was Hitomi J-cup.
Gosh, she was so lucky.
I sighed, my fingers smoothing down the front of the panties. My nipples continued to tingle. I glanced down at them, fat and long, the perfect size nubs for woman with big breasts. It was like they were taunting me. I hissed in frustration and grabbed my training bra. I lifted it up and an infuriated fire burned in my belly. It was something for a little girl to wear.
Blood boiling, I threw it down in snarling frustration and grabbed the shirt I was going to wear. It was a purple baby doll t-shirt with a V-neckline. I pulled it over my head and wiggled it around my slender torso. Another thing a twelve-year-old would wear, but it fit me. My nipples poked at the front, and I didn't care for once.
At least my nipples were developed.
I shoved my legs violently into my jeans. I was just so fed up with that all.
Nineteen!
Nineteen and with the smallest tits ever. I worked my pants up my thighs while shaking my head. All my friends had developed. I had to watch Jennifer and Courtney and Melissa and Beverly and Janiqua all grow tits. They all got excited as they went from A-cups to B-cups and some went to C-cups. Courtney even made it to a D-cup.
All the boys loved her.
I buttoned up my jeans and zipped up my fly. I slipped on my ankle socks and popped my feet into my tennis shoes. I snagged my bookbag and purse, made sure I had my cell phone, and then I was out of my bedroom. I grabbed a pop tart from the toaster and nibbled on as I headed out the front door. The sun was bright, shining. I felt it warming my skin as I headed to the college, this tingling rippled around my nipples. I knew I should've worn a bra. I was feeling the fabric of my shirt rubbing against my nubs. It was making me excited. I was getting wet.
Gosh, that was embarrassing.
I finished off my pop tart before I was halfway to my school. I sucked a few crumbs off my fingers, walking past adults who looked down at me. A lot of them were noticing me and shaking their heads. Anger burned through me.