Alice looked down onto the package. It was smooth cardboard, white, interspersed with logos and text. She turned her hand, flashing the front of the carton towards her face. The text said something something milk, but Alice wasn't really looking at the text. At the front of the carton there was a picture of a voluptuous woman, her curves bulging to the point of her hips leaving the frame and continuing out on another side of the carton. But Alice wasn't really looking at her curves either, although they registered more than the text. Her eyes were instead flicking quickly between a couple of points. The big, steel bell which hung on a collar around the carton girl's neck. Her large ears, with a rectangular green tag piercing. Her huge breast barely hidden by a white and pink cow print bikini.
Cow print stockings, too.
The milk-carton woman was holding a big cup of milk in her hand and pointing to it with the other. She was winking, as if presenting her work to the viewer. Maybe she was. The glass was cold, you could tell because perspiration had gathered along its surface. Slick. Cool. Milk.
Alice felt thirsty.
She scratched her neck, but that didn't really help any with the thirst.
Why had she bought this carton in the first place? It is not like she wanted to drink it. Okay, sure, she wanted to drink it, she wasn't going to do it, right? People want to drive luxury cars, not pay for their maintenance. Just the same, Alice wanted to drink the carton, but did she really want to go about her life having drunk it?
She turned the carton around again, looking at the back. She had been staring at it like this, back and forth, for minutes. Maybe thirty. On the back there stood a warning label in bold typeface.
WARNING: Consumption may induce breast growth, hip growth, lactation, ear growth, libido increases, increased TDEE, increased thirst, weight gain, bone structure rearrangement, et cetera, et cetera with legalese Alice wasn't really that interested in.
For more information, go to some website or another.
Alice didn't need to go to their website. She had already read everything there was to read. Hidden behind fancy slideshows, legalese, warning labels and marketing was the clear and simple fact: Drinking Cowsmade milk made you a Cowsmade cow. Not a real cow, of course, but a real Cowsmade cow, like the one on the packaging. As in, big breasts, curves, lactation, et cetera, et cetera.
Alice would very much like to be a Cowsmade cow.
A bit of sickle was running down the side of her mouth, and she quickly wiped it off with her shirt, breaking eye contact with the cowed-up carton slut. When had her mouth gotten so wet? She could practically taste the iron smell of need. The room had suddenly gotten hot, too.
Alice bit her lip, and sighed, and put the carton in her fridge. There was no helping it. No matter how much Alice wanted to drink the carton she had been unable to find any note on the effect on transgender women. In fact, with the current state of her body, she was a man in every way except the ones which made men happy about that.
It could be dangerous, she told herself, and shut the fridge door.
Fifteen seconds later Alice had walked over to her bedroom and fallen chest-first onto her bed. Somewhere along the line she had managed to whip out her phone, and she began frantically browsing the internet. Somewhere there had to be something to distract her from what she needed.
Needed?
Alice shook her head. She didn't need anything. No matter how much she wanted it. Now shut up brain, look at these memes.
But brain did not shut up. No matter how much doomscrolling she did.
Alice thumb stopped. She froze up, staring at some meme or the other, but really, she was not as much staring at the image itself as all the places where it was not.
She opened an incognito window in her browser.
Some seconds later she was looking at someone leaning their tits out over a workout bench. She was laying on it with her stomach and lower body straight as an arrow, showing off her feet and ass to the camera. Her breasts were hanging off the bench and she was rubbing them roughly with her hands over what appeared to be a metal container of sorts. When her arms tensed around her breasts the camera showed the muscles in her back tensing, and her butt shaking a bit more than you would think strictly necessary for shoulder movement -- perhaps she was tensing muscles in her stomach as well?
The camera cut to a view of her face and breasts from below. Her eyes were vacant, as if she wasn't really thinking about the fact that she was staring into a camera. Her tongue hangs out ever so slightly from her open mouth. Two long ears stood out from the side of her head, and from the top two cute white-pink horns. From this angle Alice saw that the cute woman wasn't merely rubbing her breasts but milking them. Milk was sprouting out with every rough tug the woman squeezed down her breasts and over her engorged nipples.
A particularly large spurt of milk shot out from her left breast. The woman mooed.
Alice felt her cock twitch.
She watched a bit more, feeling her cheeks warm up. She wiggled into a more comfortable position in bed, unintentionally arching her back and sticking her ass outwards. One hand had begun gently rubbing the head of her cock under her pants, gently rubbing the underside with her pointer finger, sometimes squeezing gently upwards with her thumb. As if she was milking it.
The camera was still fixed on the milk-dumb cow-girls face. At this point she was alternating between mooing and breathing hard, rasping. And no wonder, the metal basin under her was filling up with more milk than you'd think would fit in her udder-sized breasts. The camerawoman stretched out her right hand, nondescript except for the long black acrylic nails, and rubbed the top of the exhausted woman's head, running her black nails through her hair.
"Good girl." The camerawoman said.
