“Not anymore,” she lies.
I raise a brow. “So horny you’re willing to starve?”
“Ye—No.No. Food. Yes. Fine.”
I continue to hold her to my chest as I step over to the food stores and gather a bowl of seeds for her. While she starts eating, I weave a silk sling for her, then pull it around her breasts.
“Hey, what are you?—”
“Does that help with the weight?” The sling distributes the excess weight across her shoulders and back.
“Yeah. A bit.” She hardly stops eating to answer. Her bowl of seeds is soon gone, and she stares at the bottom, contemplating.
“Still hungry?”
“N… yes…”
I lean down and kiss her forehead. “Good girl. See, being honest isn’t so bad.”
Andromeda shivers against me, and I scent her arousal.
I fill her hands with fruits, nuts, and greens. “Eat.”
She obeys.
“Fuck. The more I eat, the hungrier I get…”
“That’s good. It means your homeostasis systems are recovering. The transformation consumes an extreme amount of energy.”
Something about watching her shovel all that food into her face makes my pedipalps twitch. Maybe it’s the knowledge that the food will soon become more of that sweet, creamy milk. This is the diet we feed all the hucows—optimized for milk production.
Her breasts grow almost fast enough to see.
I weave a silk bag and fill it with more food, then carry her back to the watching area and resume the documentary.
I could take her to the milking area, tell her that I can scent her arousal, that she’s very bad at hiding how she presses her thighs together and wriggles against me.
But I meant it when I said she’d be fun to break.
I want to hear her beg again.
Andromeda whimpers as she shifts against me.
“What’s the matter, little cow?”
She jolts at the pet name, arousal deepening. Pitifully, she tries to lift her breasts with the sling I made for her, but her exhausted arms give out. “They’re full,” she whines.
“I can milk you anytime.”
She perks.
“You just need to ask.Nicely.”
It takes a moment for that to filter through her brain, and watching her hopeful expression turn to one of irritation and defiance makes my pedipalps throb.
“I’m notthatdesperate,” she huffs.
“Alright. Let’s try this, then.” My back two legs pull out bands of silk, passing them off to my other toes as I deftly weave around her. I love her little huff of surprise as I move her and her stifled whimpers as the heavy weight of her breasts shifts.
