This one is a piece I did to go with a recent commission I got. Unfortunately, I totally forget the image had the squirrel-girl with a horse-cock… I might edit in a few paragraphs with that later. Feel free to slam any typos or grammatical issues in my face – I’m still working on editing this one up.

By: Fenoxo
Tags: TiTS, Blowjob, Transformation, Lactation, Mind Control, Futanari, M/F, Cock-Worship, Consent, Big ol’ Horsecock, Hard Fucking, Fen’s OC
V1.1: Gave it an edit pass to clear up some embarrassing typos and add the requisite amount of futa.

Lyko looked at her friends, out on the dance floor, and rolled her eyes, swivelling back to regard her drink – a non-alcoholic cherry bubbler – with a tiny frown. All her life, she had thought herself perfect: from her nicely symmetrical face to her silky-smooth skin to her body’s naturally high metabolism to her class-topping grades; everything added up to indicate that she was destined for greatness, or at the very least, success in her every endeavor. And for a while, that had been true – until her 21st birthday.

The pretty squirrel-girl found out the hard way that she had one long-hidden genetic flaw: an inability to properly process alcohol. A few sips gave her a headache. A glass would earn a splitting migraine. Indulging in a night of drunken merrymaking was impossible for Lyko. She couldn’t take the edge off with the legal intoxicant if she wanted to. There were other options of course: smoking phoscurelle, narcotic patches, or harder stuff, but they were addictive or known to carry certain… negative side effects.

Lyko snorted in disdain. She wasn’t rich enough to get a custom gene-mod, and her particular mutation was too uncommon for a major biotech corp like Xenogen to bother producing a consumer-grade product. She was stuck here, sitting on her bar-stool, sipping at a nothing-drink and watching her three best friends shaking their asses at some handsome-looking college boys on the dance floor: designated pilot for life.

“Hey, are you okay?” The voice was rich, deep, and most surprisingly, sober-sounding.

A shadow fell across Lyko’s glass as the stool next to her creaked beneath a newcomer’s weight. She looked up in surprise. She didn’t get very suitors. All the horny guys and hermaphrodites gravitated toward her far more drunken – and therefore fuckable – friends. This one was something else: big, bovine, and nearly bare-chested under a flimsy mesh shirt that did nothing to hide his sculpted pectorals and the nipple-rings adorning them. Two big horns curled dangerously in her direction above a friendly grin that didn’t quite mask the lecherous desires beneath.

“I’m…” Lyko started, about to say ‘fine,’ but she was bored. Might as well talk to the guy to pass the time until her friends picked up their lays or needed a ride home. “I can’t drink. Busted-ass genes have me stuck playing taxi for life.”

Leaning on the counter, the bovine suitor looked at her curiously. “For real?”

Lyko noted that his horns were glowing green. The club’s gyrating holodancers and flashing lights nearly drowned it out. “I’m not shitting you, big guy. But I should warn you before you waste too much of your time. You’re not going to pick me up. You might want to move on if you’re looking to get your dick wet in some slut.” She glanced down and noticed a very prominent bulge racing down the left thigh of his military-style cargo pants. Dragging her gaze back to his took entirely too long. Lyko’s fluffy tail wiggled shamefully.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you.” He smirked in the most irritating way. “But my dick can wait if it has to. I’d rather cheer you up.” He extended his hand. It was big like the rest of him, capped by knuckles that looked like they could punch holes in the wall. “The name’s Fenoxo.”

“Lyko.” She shook his hand. It was rough with callouses, but his grip was gentle. It didn’t matter that her own hand disappeared entirely into his.

After a brisk shake, he let her go. “Nice to meet you. What if I told you I could help you get drunk?”

The squirrel-modded human rolled her eyes. She’d run into his type before. Drug-dealing scumbags who’d get a girl hooked on all kinds of trashy chemicals and turn her into their personal whore. “Not interested in whatever you’re pushing, pal.” Lyko sneered. “I have enough problems without piling drugs on top of them.”

Fenoxo rocked back in shock, waving his arms in absolute denial. “No, no! That’s not it. I’m a psychic.” He tapped his horns, and the glow from them brightened. “These aren’t natural. They’re psychic amplifiers.”

That got Lyko’s attention. She leaned closer for a better look. Sure enough, there were sockets where the horns joined to his skull. Psychics were rare in most places, and ones that could do much more than basic telepathy were even rarer. If the neon minotaur wasn’t pushing drugs, he had to be working some other angle. “What’s in it for you?”

“Your happiness.” Fenoxo leaned back and smiled that cocky once more. His posture made his cock’s length even more arresting. “And I’d wager a drunk you would be an easier lay, wouldn’t you say?”

Lyko laughed then took a swig from her glass, polishing the last of the fruity beverage off. At least he was honest about his intentions, and there was a sort of burly, masculine attractiveness to the guy. She could do way, wayyy worse, though one concern rose up to the forefront of her mind. “If you can get me drunk, what’s stopping you from controlling my mind, or keeping me that way forever?” She jabbed a finger accusingly into his chest. It was firm. “How can you even do such a thing?”

Fenoxo took her finger in between two of his much more massive digits and gently turned it away. “You’ll just have to trust my good nature. Besides, if I was that kind of guy, I would have simply done it already. You’d be in my bed, spread-eagled and begging me to fuck you right now.” He scratched his chin. “If that’s your thing though, I think I can work something out.”

Lyko snorted. He had a point; if he did have that kind of power, he could’ve had her dancing like a puppet on a string an hour ago. “I think I’ll pass… but how can you do it? Is it something a non-psychic can even understand?” She leaned closer, her shoulder bumping his bicep. The fluff of her tail gently brushed against his bovine one.

Fenoxo’s cock visibly swelled in his pants. He squirmed a bit, shifting slightly before answering. “It’s not too hard. Easier than transforming someone’s body or trying to do outright mind control. I basically just apply a field that impairs your neural functions in a similar way to alcohol. You get all the drunk with none of the cell death of the real thing.” He fiddled with the tip of one of his horns. “It’s a real hit at parties. The only downside is that I can only extend its duration or increase the strength. I can’t outright cancel it. Turns out that when you fold the fabric of the universe on itself, you can’t quite smooth away the wrinkles lickity split.”

That sort of made sense to Lyko. She nodded along through it all, increasingly excited. “But could you put a timer on it when you do it? Like, get me drunk for two or three hours, then drop me right back into sober?  I might have to fly my friends home.”

The psychic minotaur nodded. “Yeah, I can set it up with a rough time-frame. Can’t do much shorter than two hours though.”

“That’ll do.” Lyko beamed. Finally getting to experience actual intoxication would be worth getting screwed sideways by this guy. “So what do I do?”

“Tell me just how drunk you want to get.” He looked her in the eye, his face brooding and serious. “And you tell me that you’re sure you want to do this, and accept the consequences of whatever stupid shit you decide to get into under the influence.” Fenoxo very meaningfully adjusted that bitch-breaking cock he had tucked away. “I can promise you I’ll do what I can to keep you from getting hurt, but if you run off with some other idiot…” The way he said it made it seem an impossible idea. “…you’ll be on your own.”

Lyko pulled her tail into her chest and squeezed it tight. “I definitely want to do this, and…” She bit her lip before bashfully patting his bulge. “…if I wind up doing something stupid with you, that wouldn’t be too bad. You’ve been nothing but nice to me.” Drawing back, she swallowed heavily and stared into Fenoxo’s eyes. “Think you can do about three shots worth of whiskey? I want to feel it.”

Shivering from her touch, the bull-man nodded. The green of his horns grew brighter and brighter. Lyko watched in fascination as it pulsed in staccato rhythm. Waves of emerald luminance slammed into the back of her eye sockets and into her brain. She blinked heavily, and wobbled in her chair, clutching onto Fen’s arm for support. He looked so focused, staring at her like that, that she couldn’t help but reach out and poke the goofy, glowing bull on the nose.

“Boop!”

The light faded back to a residual glow, but the sensation of something had slipped into her head along with the green remained, muddling her thoughts. Lyko canted her head and smiled at the surprised look on her bull friend’s face, trying to make sense of it all. It only took her a few seconds for her sluggish thought process to come together and provide the solution: she was drunk. “Oh wow! This is weird.” She looked back her friends on the dance floor and waved gleefully. “Oh man, I could almost dance right now!”

A gentle hand steadied her back. “I guess it’s a good thing you interrupted me or I might have gone overboard.”

“Whaddya mean?” Lyko checked him out again, openly tracing her eyes down his abs. One of her hands crept out, seemingly of its own volition, and pressed against his belly button. The charcoal gray fur was so soft and the muscles below so firm!

“I mean you’re kind of drunk already.”

“I know, isn’t it great!” Lyko popped out of her chair and wiggled into his lap, the fluff of her tail tickling Fen’s nose. He sneezed and wrangled it over one shoulder, out of the way, but did nothing to stop her butt from sliding up into his lap. “It’s so weird! Like normally, I’m sitting there, thinking of the consequences to every little thing, worrying about stuff that’ll probably never happen! But right now, like, I can just have fun.” She wiggled her hips in a way that ground his rigid cock beneath her pert bottom. “Oh my god, is this what it’s like to tease a boy?”

Fen groaned and shifted. His hands wrapped around her waist, the calloused fingers squeezing her porcelain skin to hold her still. When he spoke, his voice was straining with the effort of holding back his arousal. “If you keep doing that, I’m definitely going to fuck you.”

The warmth rearing up in Lyko’s slit agreed with that. “Is that a promise?” She wiggled as much as his strength would allow. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make a damp patch appear in the fabric near his knee. “I thought you were a nice guy!” She found one of his nipple rings and flicked it, watching the onyx nub it pierced firm up in reaction. “I thought you just wanted me to be happy with a new life experience.” She knew she was torturing the poor guy, but she didn’t care because it was fun.

“A nice guy who wants to fuck you.” Letting go of her hip, Fen grabbed her wrist and forced it down to his pants.

Lyko gasped. His cock was so warm, even through the intervening layer of light ballistic weave. More than that, it was hard and still somehow pulsating. With each heartbeat that raced through it, it throbbed powerfully, like it was breathing. She could feel how her touch excited it, and it made her own heart race. None of her previous boyfriends had ever been this big…

His breath puffed across her neck.

…Or this bestial. She could see the flared head, recognized it from biology classes as a horse-dick. Plenty of races had similarly shaped endowments, but none she had been with. Hell, she could even smell a sort of musk on this powerful man, creeping up from between his legs, a little salty and damp. It made her damp too. Of course, she’d need to be damp to take a monster like that inside her. Lyko leaned her face into his chest, whispering in a sing-song voice, “You want to fuck me…. You want to fuck me….” Fen’s cock twitched violently in the squirrel-girl’s hand.

“I do, but I thought you would want to go dance or something first. Hang out with all your friends or whatever.” To his credit, the beast-man didn’t yank down his fly and demand she jerk him off right here.

Lyko probably would have. Instead, she peered blearily around his shoulder to spot her friends. They were all dancing still. One had found a cute gryvain and was all but humping her on the dance floor. The other two appeared to be in the midst of teasing a cundarian who clearly had no idea he was in over his head. Yeah, it looked sort of fun, but none of them were psychic. None of them could dump martinis onto her brain with their mind. She turned back to Fen with an easy smile and kissed him on the lips. It wasn’t easy. He was so tall that she had to wrap her arms around his neck and pull herself up, but she managed.

Whatever race he was… he tasted sort of good. A hint of exotic spice warmed Lyko’s tongue as it slipped into his maw, and the lips themselves were soft and exceedingly kissable. It made it easy to keep from frenching him. She could do it all night. Instead, she planted cute pecks over every inch of his mouth and a few on his nose. When she stopped, the bull was definitely blushing under all the fur. Lyko smiled prettily. “Do you really want me leave?” She stroked his chest, fondling a rigid nipple. “Or do you want to show me what else you can do?”

The rumble that tore out of Fenoxo’s chest threatened to send Lyko tumbling out of his lap. She clung tight as he snarled, “You really want to see what else I can do?”

Lyko tittered impishly as she ground herself into his meaty crotch, smearing a cunt that felt increasingly wet all over him. “Yeah! I’m sure you got more tricks in those magic horns of yours, doncha big guy?” She stroked one. It was unnaturally smooth and made her fingers tingle like she’d been sitting on them for an hour. Stars, she was having so much fun!

Fen shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Lyko had been on the very precipice of a witty retort, or what passed for one to her inebriated psyche, when the glow strengthened once more. This time, she didn’t feel it in her eyes. It washed over her completely harmlessly, little more than a pretty show for her to smirk at. “You sure you didn’t burn ’em out?” Brazenly reaching out, she prodded at his horn’s base, feeling where metal joined to flesh.

Another kiss was the last thing the intoxicated squirrel-girl expected. After all, SHE hadn’t been the one to initiate it. Nonetheless, her muscly new friend planted one right on her lips. Electric currents of pleasure dazzled her brain and coursed down her spine into her crotch. Kissing was so good! Lyko pressed back into him as his tongue speared deep into her mouth, lapping at her own in a way that made her skin flush and her pussy clench. It was like somebody had crossed all the wires for her brain and her cunt. His licks may as well have been on her clit for how they made her feel.

Lyko couldn’t help it. She whimpered and soaked through the crotch of her pants, wrapping her arms around Fen just to hold herself upright. When her lips brushed his, tingles of slow-building bliss radiated through her. When their tongues twined together, her cunt squeezed, and the rest of her body tensed up right along with it. Lyko was moaning into her bull-stud’s mouth like an ausar whore in heat, and she relished it.

By now, a decently sized crowd of onlookers had gathered around the impassioned pair. Lyko didn’t care. She pulled herself up higher to better kiss the psychic bull-boy, her hips grinding against his chiseled chest to leave slicks of feminine moisture in her wake. She had never felt this wet before. She sucked his tongue deeper, delighting in how the feeling of fullness translated into a filling sensation downstairs.

Lyko floated in heaven until it abruptly disappeared. Hands too strong to resist peeled her off like a soiled shirt and dumped her back into Fen’s lap – and onto the girthy totem barely concealed between his legs. With her pussy so thoroughly soaking, the fabric barrier between them seemed to fade away.

“I’ve got a pretty nice ship parked outside, if you’d like to see what else I can do… in private.” Fen tipped his head low enough for a horn to brush her scalp, and an extra foot of luscious hair cascaded down her back.

Lyko gasped. “Oh.” If she went with him, there’d be no way she’d get out of this unfucked! Of course that would feel amazing; she was sure of that. Running her tongue across her lips, she squirmed. She hadn’t come here for a one-night stand, yet here she was. The squirrel-morphed woman looked to the dance floor to discover the jubilant faces of her friends. They were cheering for her! More than one chant of “Go get it, girl!” reached her ears over the thumping bass.

Yeah. She should go get it. Lyko straightened her back and kissed the hunk’s cheek, suppressing the shiver of ecstasy it provided. “Let’s go then.” A second later, a thought occurred to her. “But give me a shot or two on the way. I’m gonna be a sloppy-drunk squirrel slut. Who knows if I’ll ever get the chance again!”

And then she was up on the air, landing heavily over Fen’s shoulder. She hadn’t expected to be carried out of the bar like a sack of grain, but the minotaur had other ideas. His muscles, sweaty from heat and arousal, swiveled powerfully with his motions. Behind him, his tail was swishing happily, much like Lyko’s own.

“I can do that. Even give you a little nudge in the slut direction. Temporary, of course. Here.” He snapped his fingers as his cloppy footsteps carried them into the hanger.

Lyko winced at the sound, unprepared. Some part of her kept expecting the changes to hurt, but instead his power was just like the rest of him: strong but gentle, pushing her around with inexorable but pleasurable force. Her thoughts scattered as time slowed down, and the back and forth swaying lagged, her vision sliding out of sync with her sense of motion. She giggled and waved her hand in front of her face as an awareness of true inebriation settled over her.

Hadn’t he said he was doing to nudge her into more of a slut? Lyko felt like that should bother her more, but she was also really horny. Being sluttier for sex would probably be an advantage. Like a real life cheat code for the bed-room: X-X-X-B-A-B-E-Start-Select! Best fuck ever unlocked!

The squirrel hiccuped cutely as Fen punched the access code into his ship’s door.

Meanwhile, Lyko’s breasts and butt were getting warm. It took her a little while to notice, as smashed as she was feeling, but even the drunkest girl is eventually going to notice when her butt and tits are buzzing with energy. Eyes wide, she looked down – or up? Directions are hard when you’re hanging over a big bull’s shoulder. Whichever way it was, Lyko managed to get an eyeful of her shapely breasts just in time to see them swelling. Every bounce against Fen’s back had more chest-flesh compressing against him. Her skin was taut and shiny, slowly expanding to contain orbs that left modest attractiveness behind on their journey toward becoming porn-star funbags.

Not to be left behind, Lyko’s butt was growing apace with her breasts. Already, she could feel her ass fattening up. Fen’s steps made the cheeks bounce and wiggle. A brief concern that it’d look all gross and cellulite-y surfaced before she remembered that she had a psychic, minotaur god sculpting her into the perfect fuckmate. Her ass was going to look fantastic. The white-skinned globes jiggled and bounced as her posterior pumped up, her thighs thickening slightly to compensate, squeezing her pussy from either side until slickness ran in rivulets down the insides of her pants.

Reaching up, Lyko grabbed her fattening tits and squeezed them. She couldn’t seem to think of them as anything other than tits either, not because of some kind of psychic vocabulary replacement but because breasts that big couldn’t properly be described as anything else. Lyko’s boobs had sprouted into jiggling melons, and they were still growing, so warm and hot that they made her pant against Fen’s back until he tossed her down onto her feet, his hands steadying her wobbles as she found her footing.

“I look like a porn-star,” the curvaceous cutie slurred. She poked one breast and marvelled at how deeply and easily her finger sank into it. Looking accusingly toward Fen, she asked, “Did you make them even softer?”

Fen nodded as he fiddled with a nearby holoconsole. A second later, the walls were replaced with the rustic-looking, hammered wood of a barn. She was in a fully equipped simulation chamber! Milking cups descended from the ceiling as a stall phased into place around them. “I had to leave plenty of room for your milk.”

Doubling over with laughter from the preposterous suggestion, Lyko said, “I’m not pregnant, you big, sexy goofball.”

Horns still glowing, he regarded her with a piercing, all-too-serious glare. “You don’t have to be pregnant to lactate. Besides, I made changes to what triggers lactation in your breasts. It’s olfactory now.” He tugged the mesh off his chest and casually tossed it over his shoulders. “Also tripled your sensitivity to pheromones. Bet you didn’t even notice that one.” His hands went to the belt and zipper that for so long had held back his cock. “You’re already producing, and you didn’t even notice.”

Lyko’s mouth hung open in shock. A second later, she hefted her breasts and stared at them in disbelief. “I’m making milk?”

The pants came off, and sixteen inches of glistening, pre-drooling horse-cock sprang out. Fen’s dick was pink except for the ink-black sheath at its base, showing off the pumping veins in stark relief. With its sudden appearance came an aromatic onslaught, one that made Lyko’s nose twitch. There was a little bit of fresh sweat, no doubt from the heat of her body on his in the club, but there were other scents, like an old forest bathed in a primal, animalistic musk.

The squirrel’s nipples perked right up. She whimpered and stepped closer, audibly sniffing. Restraint forgotten, her tongue slid back and forth over her hypersensitive lips, teasing her as effectively as slow, drawn-out cunnilingus. “Oh stars, I am definitely making milk.” She squeezed her tits, compelled by some instinct she didn’t quite understand, loving the hint of pressure against her nipples. “And you definitely made me too sensitive to pheromoooones.” She moaned and dropped to her knees in front of his cock, bathing in the bestial scent of the exquisitely oversized member.

It could never fit inside her. It had to fit inside her. Lyko’s eyes crossed for a better look at it, but she dared not pull away. She was definitely feeling like a slut. A big-breasted, milky squirrel-slut who felt like she was in heat. “I can feel the milk.” She squeezed her tits again. They were getting tight. All that softness was vanishing as she filled up with creamy nectar. Her tits had so little give now, and they were getting full. “I need milked.”

No, that wasn’t right. “I need fucked.” Lyko kissed the cock, too late realizing that lips now smelled like dick. Even if she somehow ran away, she’d stay creamy and slutty on his cock-scent.

“That’s why I got you this.”

The milk cups dangled from his fingers, brought down to her level. How could he be so terribly powerful, sexy, and yet still so gentle and so nice? Lyko kissed his cock again while she pressed the cups to her achy nipples. The mere suggestion of a thorough sucking was enough to make droplets of alabaster cream bead at the tips. Once firmly seated, the machinery provided a slow, gentle suction to hold them in place. Milk immediately answered. It drooled out of her with a minimum effort on the milker’s part, but still her tits swelled bigger, uncomfortably so.

Lyko needed to be milked faster. She needed it sucked out of her like an industrially-modded cow-girl on Gush, and she needed this dick in her right now. “More!” she panted, darting forward to press her lips to his shaft, sucking needily. Pre-cum puddled against her cheek. By the time she broke contact, it was all over her chin and lips. “I need milked, now, please!”

Fen casually hefted one of her ripened tits, feeling the milk-soggy flesh wobble and roll in his palm. “Really? You know the next highest setting on this thing is ‘cow’?” He squeezed. “I can, but it will be intense…”

The mere contact was enough to accelerate Lyko’s lactic leakage, but not enough to provide her with relief, not when she was all but huffing hot pre-cum off his sack. The weight on her chest was dragging her forward, back against the dick, nearly as heavy on her mind as the pheromones that wanted her to lap at the rivers of oozing pre-cum like icing. Right now, it tasted just as good. Desire to impale herself on the minotaur’s taut, throbbing pole warred with the ever-increasing need to see her fat jugs get the suckling they so desperately craved.

“Do it now!” Lyko’s tits had swollen so much that they pressed against the bull’s knees, slowly pushing her away from the dick she had admired so passionately in her inebriated, pheromone-saturated state. “No!” She stuck out her tongue to desperately collect a sliver of pre-cum, then even that was pulled away by her overpoweringly engorged udders. “Milk me like a cow! Turn it up past cow! I don’t care, just give me back that dick!” She was babbling, but she didn’t care. Hormones and booze ran thick in her blood, making it easy for her to forget about things like pride, doubt, and inhibition. “Please!”

At that, the horned psychic nodded and turned to the controls. “This is cow.” After a click, the suction more than tripled. Lyko all but cried with relief, gushing a startling amount of milk into the cups. The hoses bounced, and the pumps whirred, forced to deal with more milk than most  bipeds could hope to produce. It felt marvellous, like she had been standing all day and finally got to sit down. Better still, her tits shrank slightly – just enough to let her lean back into Fen’s delicious cock and balls. Stars, it had felt like ages since she could feel the leathery, pre-slicked genitals slapping into her face.

Her nostrils flared, and the milk flow thickened to perfect equilibrium. So long as Lyko kept her face in Fen’s crotch, she was making milk as fast as it could be sucked out. And it was feeling quite pleasant now. Yes, there was the constant, nagging awareness of her milk-ducts remaining partially bloated with heavy cream, but there was also the hot tingling racing through her nipples with every powerful suck the machine gave her, a mixture of sexual pleasure intermingled with agonizingly powerful relief that made her knees knock and her pussy dribble.

Lyko’s heart raced as she slobbered adoringly over one of Fen’s balls. Her lips were still cross-wired with her cunt, and between the milking and the constant friction on her lips, she couldn’t hold back if she wanted. Orgasm grabbed her in its blissful grip and wrung the squirrel-girl out like a sponge. Her pussy squirted. It had never done that before, but hot jets of girlish delight splattered her thighs all the same, breaking through a dam of self-control she didn’t even know existed. She wondered if he’d broken something inside her, turned her into the type of girl that couldn’t help but squirt. No answer was forthcoming. One thing Lyko did know for sure was that her mouth stopped working for a few minutes while she writhed and sprayed juices from above and below.

“You like that one, do you?” Fen fondly stroked her head as the leaky squirrel dazedly returned to kissing his cock.

Lyko slipped her tongue into his sheathe and nearly came all over again, mind ablaze in the raw taste of animalistic, pheromonal fuck. “Mmmhrmm.”

“Want to try ‘cow-slut’? It’s the next level up.”

A convulsion seized Lyko’s cunt, squeezing out a fresh string of goo. “Plessssh!”

“I think if you’re going to be a cow-slut, you ought to be on a dick, hadn’t you?”

Finally, something gave Lyko an excuse to break contact with Fen’s nostril-titillating phallus. Web’s of pre and spit hung between her and the shaft, slowly bowing to gravity’s inexorable weight. She felt sort of like that, like she was too fucked up to do anything but sink even deeper into depravity. Her body wanted that dick inside her, and her brain wanted it so deep inside her that she’d smell like it forever. “Yeah! Fuck me already!” She reached down and grabbed her netherlips, spreading them as wide as possible. “Fuck me and milk me like your slutty little milk-cow!”

His cock visibly pulsated.

Fen stepped around her as she begged. Lyko whimpered as his hands grabbed her by the hips and casually lifted her up. All the extra ass and breast and milk didn’t seem to matter to him. She was placed on her feet, though the size of her milky udders kept dragging her forward. The biggest, hardest cock she had ever felt slipped between her thighs. Its head felt so warm on the squirrel-woman’s slit, so filled with erotic promise, but he didn’t push it in no matter how soaking wet she was.

“Are you ready to feel like a real cow-slut?” One hand grabbed Lyko’s by the tit and roughly squeezed what felt like a gallon of milk out. “Are you ready to be my milk-slut?”

That sounded amazing. Not forever, or anything, but in the moment, Lyko really, truly wanted to be the sluttiest, milkiest cow-squirrel for Fen. “Yess!” It came out slurred. She didn’t care. “Fucking take me you, you beautiful beast of a man!”

That seemed to satisfy him, because a second later, Lyko heard the familiar click of the milker ratcheting up to the next setting. At the same time, Fen shifted his grip on her, lifting her completely off the ground to give his cock a more comfortable angle. The suction paused, then in one moment of perfect, sensuous bliss, he slid into her while the milker resumed its assault. It yanked her fat, seeping nipples so much harder, and the pleasure was so much stronger. Lyko wasn’t just keeping pace with her psychically transmuted milk production any longer. She was being drained. Gallon after gallon flowed out of her. Her tits shrank somewhat, but she knew she could just slobber on Fen’s nuts after if she wanted them to balloon up again.

As the pearly fluid poured out of one end of her, cock flowed into the other. There was so much that never seemed to end. Fen’s dick provided inch after cunt-breaking inch of perfectly veiny, slick cock for her to cream herself on, and cream herself she did. Lyko was climaxing long before the halfway point. Once past the medial ring, it got increasingly harder for to have any control over her body at all. Her thighs quivered and shook, her pussy gushed, and her tits erupted like twin volcanoes. Lyko delighted in it all. She let Fen use her, craved it, even. For the moment, she was his drippy, sex-cow, and she loved it.

But his horns were still glowing. Between her legs, something was building, a sense of potential and pent-up energy that made her cry out midway through an orgasm. The flesh above her stuffed pussy darkened and grew, bulging out. A slit opened in the middle of the distention, weeping whitish goo as it grew. Now that it had opened, Lyko felt relief as her new dick expanded. The shape was familiar. It was just like Fen’s, but smaller of course, though seemingly no less virile. It ached and spurted with in perfect sync with her orgasm, a whole ‘nother layer of bliss stacked atop her nipple-gasms and pussy-climaxes.

How could she go back to a normal life after experiencing this? Why would she want to spend her time living a life of mediocrity when she could be impaled dick-deep on the universe’s best alpha-bull, letting him play with her body in ways that made her pussy feel better than humanly possible? How could she forget how good it felt to cum from three sets of genitals while blitzed out of her mind?

Orgasm after orgasm thundered through her as she bounced on Fen’s horse-dick. Lyko squirted so many times that his legs were slicked from her fluids. An alabaster puddle spread across the floor. She wished he had put out a bucket, just so she could better gauge her newfound virility. The ship smelled like concentrated fucking, raw and animal, like they’d been rutting for hours. Maybe they had. Time seemed like a foreign concept with every nerve in her straining quim firing at once.

The first jet of cum into her unprotected womb felt like it should bother her. It would have any other day. Maybe it was the psychic intoxication. Maybe it was the mind-shattering pleasure. Maybe it was a cocktail of potent pheromones triggering the bestial parts of her to crave impregnation. Whatever it was, it made Lyko cum harder than ever. She cheered the successive jets of virile seed as they wound their way up her fallopian tubes, revelled in the feel of her taut tummy swelling from too much of her lover’s copious ball-cream. Lyko’s hands made their way to her belly to stroke it in awe.

Aftershocks thrummed through her, but by now, Lyko felt almost used to it. She sat there, fully impaled, letting Fen dribble the last dregs of seed into her well-used passage, marvelling at what he had done to her. She was so cum-swollen that her tummy looked seven or eight months pregnant, the skin taut. Her belly-button popped out, and Lyko whimpered at how much she liked the look of it, especially while glancing past two still-gushing nipples.

“Thirty minutes… not bad.” The green glow filled the ship-turned-milk-bar, and Lyko’s lactation finally slowed.

“Wait!” The squirrel-girl struggled to arrange the words, exhausted synapses unused to thinking anything more than “Fuck yes! Give me more!” She licked her lips, savoring the pleasure of her flaccid dick slipping against the warm cum leaking down her thighs. “Thirty minutes… we have like… an hour left, right?”

He nodded, kissing her neck. Somehow, after everything, that’s what made her blush.

“Could we… try the next setting up?” After a second, she thought to add, “And could you like, make me think your cock is in my face the whole time?” Her mouth filled with drool. “Just for an hour.”

Lyko felt Fen’s horse-dick stiffen inside her once more, and the gentle green ambience behind her shift to pink. She didn’t know what that meant, not until she saw something out of the corner of her vision and turned to slam her mouth face-first into Fen’s balls. Drool slopped off her chin as she went to work, intent on enjoying every moment of her break from sobriety.

 

---

 

Lyko didn’t make it back to the bar for over two hours, and when she did, it was with a lurching, swaying gait that made her look even drunker than she had felt a few hours ago. It wasn’t that she was smashed – quite the opposite. Her thighs were simply too worn out from vigorous, thorough fucking to work properly. Worse, the built-in period-protection in her panties had activated, preventing any of Fen’s all-too-copious juices from escaping. He was generous enough to sterilize the load for her, of course.

Even when breaking a girl’s world in half with his dick, he was ready to oblige her requests.

Smirking, the pregnant-looking squirrel-girl slipped into her seat with a sigh. Her friends were still dancing. She looked forward to seeing the shock on their faces when she told them the steamy details later, but for now, she was intent on triple-checking that she had Fenoxo’s contact information securely stored in her databank.

Lyko refused to take a chance on losing it. After all, Fen had promised her as much “cow-time” as she wanted.

She intended to take him up on it next week. Maybe with a visit on Wednesday. Would it be too eager to call Monday? Lyko squirmed in her seat and wondered if he hadn’t left her pheromonal sensitivity turned up. Maybe she’d give him a ring tomorrow to make sure. It wouldn’t do for her to get all turned on at the drop of a hat. Besides, she kind of wanted to see about trying out that dick of her own again.

~Fin~