Career Case: A Hucow Story
“Another bad guy off the streets,” Jacob said, standing at the end of the table. Mira feigned a blush as she sipped her fourth martini. Her staff listened with buzzing attention as the DA praised her. “Years of work from our wonderful police, all of you, and especially Mira. Honestly, I’m not sure anyone else could have done it, and in half the time it should have taken. We can safely sit here tonight because the operational arm of the Corello Family is all behind bars.” The party cheered, drawing wondering glances from the rest of the bar. Jacob held up his hands to quiet them down. “Now, we all still have a ton of work to do, but tonight is one to celebrate. I took out a tab — you lushes keep it under three grand, ok? — and I want you all to think about something other than briefs or appeals or being fucking lawyers at all.”
He settled down at the table beside Mira. She shoved a few of the empty glasses out of the way for him. “Good speech, boss.”
“People love the rah-rah,” he said, looking weary. “You did really good work, Mira. Good enough to have my job, I think.”
“What?” she feigned surprise.
“Come now, let’s not bother with the fluff. The party has been in my ear non-stop since halfway through this trial. They want to stand you up on this conviction, get you into my office, and they want me to sit out for a while. Spend a year fishing, looking sporty, and getting a tan.”
“Attorney General?”
“I think so,” Jacob said. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to it. The wheels are turning, and you either let them grind you up or you move on. You’re a bright spot, Mira, and people are going to want to use that to further their own ambitions. I did, clearly. The party will, too. Make sure its what you want, because once you’re too far in, it’s hard to get out.”
“I thought you wanted no shop talk,” she said. Of course, she knew all the plans revolving around her career. If her boss knew how much she’d manipulated him, he wouldn’t be so kind to her. His doting warnings only reminded her that the old man had gone too soft for politics. Given the chance, he would have held on to the district attorney’s office like a Pope. Winds would change during his year away from the spotlight, and if he came back to run for office, he’d find his calls going unanswered. Mira didn’t expect to happen, though. Jacob possessed every fault of a horrible politician. He liked his personal life, loved his wife, and genuinely missed spending time with his kids. Mira needed him out of the way, but she wasn’t cold hearted. In a few months, he would get some calls from a private firm offering him a partnership with effectively optional workloads.
Jacob raised his glass, “Cheers. To the rising star.” Their glasses clinked. “Keep an eye on these animals, won’t you?” He rose from the table and wandered off.
All of the others drifted off to private conversations, leaving Mira alone at the table. It prickled her sense of pride that no one was clambering to talk with her. After all, she was the reason they’d won. She’d done all the work, orchestrated the entire trial, and ensured the scope of their investigation in the first place. Which, naturally left her too much of a boss to socialize with. The only person who still considered himself equal to her just wandered away. She scoffed and went to the bar. Placing down her martini glass, she caught the bartender’s eye. “Scotch, please,” she said as he took away her glass. He picked up a bottle, and she gave a nod before settling on the stool to wait.
“Put it on mine,” said a voice two seats down. A black haired man in a tweed jacket rapped his knuckles on the top of the bar. He didn’t look at her, but she caught a glimpse of glimmering blue eyes and a warm, smug grin.
“That’s not necessary,” Mira said. “We’re a private party.” It had been a long time since she’d gone out socially. Even longer since a man bought her a drink, and painfully long since a man did more than buy her a drink. She’d not had sex since Martin, her boyfriend from law school. They split almost a decade ago, but she’d run into him at a networking event two years earlier, leading to a night of familiar, if clumsy sex, and two weeks of awkward conversations through text message. Subtly, she tried to pull her top a little tighter and make sure her hair looked nice.
The man turned to look at her. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Sometimes, you wind up doing things the way you see them in old movies. The line between polite and rude is fairly fluid, don’t you think? It can be a kind gesture to pay someone’s tab. At the same time, it can be a rude insistence to buy a woman a drink when she’s on her own. Perhaps, I should have led with something more modern, like my name. I’m Silas.”
She smirked. The man exuded charm from every pore. He looked to be a cross between a stuffy literature professor and a Cuban plantation worker. He extended a tough, tanned hand to her. She took it, shaking it delicately and feeling the strength in his arm. “Mira. And sure, you can buy me a drink.”
Mira moved to the seat next to Silas. The two of them talked. They ordered more drinks. Occasionally some of Mira’s coworkers came to check on her, but she waved them off. By the end of the night, she hung herself on Silas’s arm while the room spun around them. She wanted to go home with him, but he objected, insisting on getting her a cab. Still, they waited together, standing outside in the cold, crisp air. He gave her his jacket, insisting she’d have the chance to give it back to him. The smell of it intoxicated her more than the dangerous amount of alcohol she’d consumed.
They kissed as it drizzled a cold rain. Mira’s dulled senses would struggle to remember it only a few seconds later, but in the moment she could taste something earthy and rich in his mouth. It was the same as the scent on his skin or in the touch of his hands. She wanted to bathe in that sensation, and yet in the next moment, she sat in the bleak isolation of a cab, surrounded by the smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes. Someone told the driver her address, and she arrived home without further incident.
Knocking around in her apartment, she went into a catastrophe management mode. She made herself a greasy bacon sandwich and drank as much water as she could find. All the while, she dazed around in drunken bliss while hugging Silas’s jacket tightly around her. It still had the smell of him on it, a smell that put powerful thoughts in her head. She wished he’d come home with her. Even through the numbness of booze, her body ached for touch. She wanted to feel those rough hands run across her naked stomach. She wanted him to draw indecipherable figures on her breasts using his fingertips. She wanted the taste of him on her flesh. She wanted it so much that she thought it might actually be addicting.
With that fading thought, she climbed into bed, hugging Silas’s jacket like a stuffed animal, and fell into a fitful sleep.
The next day, Mira woke to a strange feeling. For one, she didn’t feel like garbage. Her mouth was dry, and the fatigue of sleep faded a little slower than usual. Otherwise, she actually felt good. A hot shower refreshed her considerably, leaving her optimistic and energetic. She was excited to see a message from Silas on her phone when she got out of the shower. He asked how she was feeling with a winking emoji. She answered honestly, feeling a warm bloom of affection from simply reading his words. “When can I return your jacket?”
“How about tonight?” he replied. “Dinner at Ivanovich’s?”
The restaurant was only a few blocks from her apartment and not the kind of place she could afford. She searched the blurry memory for some evidence of what Silas did for a living. She vaguely recalled mention of being an entrepreneur. “Sounds fun. 8?”
They agreed, and Mira put down her phone with a flutter in her stomach like she was back in college with a crush. Silas seemed almost too good to be true, but she couldn’t spend the whole day dreaming. She went about getting dressed and ran into a small problem. None of her bras fit. Standing in the light cotton robe, she opened the front and looked at her body. Nothing looked noticeably different, but as she held her breasts in either hand, she thought they felt a little bigger. The empirical data of all her bras not fitting backed up the idea. One or two could be written off by some weight fluctuation, but she had a considerable collection of bras to suit different moods and none of them fit, not even the overly stretched one she wore out on days when she expected to see no one and only wanted a donut.
Not a big deal. Water retention or something after a night of heavy drinking, she thought. She’d considered going in to the office to sort through some paperwork, but since she didn’t want the male interns waggling their eyes at her, she decided against it. Instead, she threw on a t-shirt and some pajama bottoms and went about answering emails on her laptop. A few process questions cropped up since the previous day’s victory, but mostly she answered congratulatory messages from colleagues. As the day went on, looking at a screen made her head hurt. She decided to take the rest of the day off. It was a Friday, after all, and she’d had a hell of a night. No one else seemed to be working. She hadn’t heard from Jacob at all.
After lunch, she confronted the wardrobe problem again. She thought the size issue might have magically resolved itself through the day, but instead it seemed worse. The one bra she originally got to actually clasp, though it strained the seams, now had an inch gap between the two buckles. Looking in the mirror, she saw breasts that no longer looked like her own. She’d been an average woman her whole life, with B cups which her few sexual partners never complained about. She guessed the breasts on her now were reaching D cups. The supple flesh moved easily under her fingertips as she prodded the sudden expansion. Each touch caused small sparkles to flood her core and an ache of wanting to grow stronger.
Mira bit her lower lip as she focused on the tingling sensations. After a short consideration, she went to her bed and opened a small drawer at the bottom of her nightstand. She considered the toys inside. The vibrator was her normal choice, but for once in her life the ache for something inside her outweighed the tingling desire to have her clit touched. She grabbed a thick cobalt blue dildo and rolled onto her back. Her swollen tits wobbled on her chest as she spread her legs and pulled off her panties.
It surprised her a little to find her pussy so wet, but clearly something was going on with her hormonally. The head of the fake dick pushed inside her as she squeezed her overly sensitive breasts. Her legs dangled in mid air as she pushed more of the blue cock into herself, yet that merely quelled the need to be full. The true pleasure came from her breasts. Every squeeze caused a new wave of lust to wash over her. She loved the way the curve of her breast filled her hand. Quickly she grew frustrated with the need for one hand to thrust the dildo.
She moved to the floor. The cock’s suction cup made a loud THWUCK as she slapped it on the hardwood. She positioned herself over it and dropped down, groaning as her walls stretched to take the whole length of it inside her. With both hands free, she could play with her tits to her content. They radiated heat into her palms as she massaged herself. She let her nipples wedge between her fingers, squeezing them and pulling in a rhythm to match her bucking ass on the fake cock. After only a few minutes, her body quivered with orgasm.
Mira glanced at the clock. Her heart jumped. Hours had passed with her doing nothing more than bouncing on a fake dick, rubbing her tits, and cumming. She stood up, letting the dildo slide out of her with a squelch. She needed another shower if she wanted to meet Silas in time.
In a hurry, she cranked up the heat in the shower and slapped herself any time she grew distracted by washing her thick boobs. They’d definitely gotten bigger, she figured. Anything beyond a D cup lacked a frame of reference for her, but she thought they had to be getting beyond that. Vaguely, she thought rapid breast growth should concern her more, but thinking about them made her want to touch them and that might steal another three hours of her time. It helped rationalize the changes that the rest of her body seemed different, too. Her thighs had thickened into big, muscular chunks leading up into a butt round and thick enough to turn anyone’s head. Her stomach flattened out too, removing the slight bit of weight she’d put on through stress eating. As she dried off, she saw her pussy looking a bit plumper, and more enticing for a nice thick cock to slide into it. She didn’t know when all her pubic hair disappeared, but she liked the clean look.
Digging in her closet, she found a dress that fit. At least it fit in the manner that it went on her body. It did not fit by any other definition. The skirt wasn’t long enough to hide all of her ass. She waddled around with the bottom of both cheeks dangling out to her frustration. Nor did the bust do enough to cover her massive chest. The whole top of her rack was visible with a deep cleft of cleavage while the tops of her areolas remained visible as well. The upper hem of the dress sat right on her puffy nipples, driving her crazy every time she took a step. She didn’t bother with underwear since everything she did made her more horny. Maybe I’ll put a napkin down on my seat so as not to make a mess, she thought as she grabbed her coat.
The way everyone at the restaurant looked at her made Mira feel wonderful. She could see the men’s jaws drop as she walked by, her ass jiggling in full view. She saw their wives, the old bitties, whisper about the scandal of it all. Mira loved the attention, but she loved when Silas looked at her the most. He picked her up outside her apartment, and they walked to the restaurant together. Before she even left her front door, he slid his hands under each breast and lifted them, giving her a congratulatory pat while he flicked her nipples. She almost came from the minor stimulation and hoped he would do more once they got done with their meal.
They sat in a private booth at the back of the fancy restaurant, mostly out of sight of the other patrons. Some other private tables raised their glasses in Silas’s direction. Mira saw other women dressed a lot like her. One woman even had her titties all the way out, making Mira jealous. She hated the way her dress rubbed her nipples, constantly teasing her, when she really wanted the cool air or Silas’s mouth. Silas ordered for her. “Need to keep your metabolism up,” he said. While Mira wished she’d brought her dildo to play with herself under the table, the waiter delivered their meals. Mira was a little surprised to find hers nothing more than ice cream, but it turned out to be exactly what she wanted.
She ate it in big scoops, trying to keep from getting brain freeze as she did. Some of it dribbled down her chin and splashed on the top of her breast. Silas chided her for such sloppy behavior and wiped it clean with his napkin, sending a fresh wave of sparkled through her body. He peered at her and said other strange things like “new formula” and “faster development.” Mira didn’t feel like talking much. She wanted more ice cream and more of the intoxicating scent on Silas’s body. Eventually, her own body distracted her again. A new sort of pressure developed in her breasts. It didn’t feel painful, not exactly, but it did seem insistent.
Mira considered her problem for a few seconds before deciding on the only logical path. She’d seen another woman with her tits out, so why couldn’t she get hers out, too? With a simple jerk, the top of the dress popped down and her thickened, puffed nipples sprang free. Silas smiled at her, so she knew she’d done the right thing. “Already?” he asked. “Marvelous.” He reached over and gave the left nipple a squeeze. The pressure in Mira’s chest eased slightly, and she felt a movement of fluid. A few drips of white liquid seeped out of her nipple. Silas scooped them up with his finger and brought them to his mouth. His resulting smile made her body flush with warmth. “Let’s get you home,” he said.
The walk back to her apartment seemed to take ages. She didn’t mind much though. Every time they stopped at a crosswalk, Silas would tease her nipples through the dress and promise she wouldn’t have to wear it long. At the last wait, he even pulled her dress up a little and slid his hand under her rump to see how wet her pussy was. He said she was a good cow to be so wet, which naturally made her pussy gush with need for a cock inside her. She tried to rub Silas, too, but he insisted she wait and control herself until they got her home.
Three seconds into the room, she pulled off her dress and climbed onto her couch, shoving her naked ass up in the air for him. She expected him to mount her immediately, but instead he moved around her apartment, leaving her to play with her aching pussy. He found her liquor cabinet and prepared himself a drink before coming to sit on the couch beside her. He brought a spare glass, put it under her nipple, and pulled. A thick stream of milk coated the bottom of the glass. Silas laughed to himself and took the milk like a shot before washing it down with whiskey. “I thought the more aggressive batch might be too far, but I think we’re in a pretty nice spot.” He grabbed her breast and squeezed. Milk sprayed onto her couch as her body quivered with bliss.
“Mmm,” she groaned.
“You can moo if you want, cow,” Silas said. “You’re my best work, only makes sense for you to moo. How much of you is left in there, Mira? Anything? Any of that brilliant legal mind?”
She looked up at him with wide vacant eyes. Why wasn’t he milking her or fucking her? Had she done something wrong. He seemed to like it when she made noise. “Mmmmooo?”
“Nothing,” he mused, taking her chin and pulling her face into profile. She caught a big whiff of his scent and moved her fingers between her legs. “I thought a long time about taking this job, well, opportunity. Someone so high profile has risks. And then they wanted a rush job which meant using my newest formula.” He extended his wrist, giving her another wonderful blast of the smell. “With the added risk, I needed a better method of delivery. Two components you see. The aerosolized version is one, but I can’t turn an entire bar or restaurant into dumb, wet cunts fit for nothing but milking. I mean, I could, but that would cause problems. So, I needed to give you the catalyst the old fashioned way. Never trust an underpaid bartender. Especially one who’s a cousin of the Antonio Corello. That’s the really amazing thing in all this. You spend years working on a conviction, and then you go to a bar where the fucker’s cousin works.”
He’s too talky, she thought. She leaned up, showing him her breasts directly. The elongated, puffed nipples felt warm between her fingertips. She pulled them gently, and the milk flowed. It rolled over the puffed mounds and down the underside of her swollen udders, dripping down her stomach while Silas watched. Mira saw the bulge in his pants shift. He liked to see her milk herself so she continued.
“It’s not permanent,” he said, rubbing his dick through his pants. “Not yet, anyway. They wanted me to turn you into a cow, take some embarrassing photos, and put an end to your career. Or at least redirect it into one that served them better. But, of course, they didn’t understand who they were bargaining with either. Why shouldn’t I keep my own little Sistine Chapel? The perfect woman made into the perfect, subservient cow.”
Mira gurgled as she milked herself. The cream ran down the indentions in her curves, sliding near her pussy as it continued to flow. Silas stood up and undressed. His barrel chest and rock hard body made her pussy ache grow, but once he pulled off his boxers, she thought she might die from pure lust. Silas’s cock looked as big around as a soda can. The head of it bulged bigger and bigger as he stroked himself while looking at Mira. “Surprised?” he asked. “My research isn’t exclusive to women. I’m still a bit of a grower, but once I do, its quite the show. Makes for some uncomfortable dinners with my converted clients, unfortunately. And normal women are pretty much only ever going to get the head in them. But they can change just like you. My treatments are quite popular. Every idiot man wants a bigger dick, but then they have one and no one to put it in. Create the demand and then offer the supply. Upgraded women with cunts capable of sucking in a horse sized cock to appease their hucow appetite. All the milk is just a bonus.”
He let the thick meat slap against her rump and he massaged her breasts. The milk no longer dripped, but sprayed thick streams arcing across the full length of the couch. Silas enjoyed the game of seeing how far she could squirt. She could tell he enjoyed it by the hot throb of his cock against her ass. Eventually, he grew bored or too horny to continue. A firm hand pushed her down to the sodden couch as he position the massive dick at her pussy lips. Mira expected him to need time to get lubricated, but the precum on his cock already made the head smooth and it slid easily into her drenched pussy.
The feeling of his manhood stretching her made a new rush of milk surge to her tits. Like water balloons bursting inside her tits, she suddenly felt a tremendous pressure as Silas’s hands dug into her rump and she pushed back against his cock. Leaning on one arm, she reached up and squeezed her aching nipple, but it wasn’t needed. The milk flowed on its own, almost pushed out by Silas’s cock. The stream would gush until he with drew, when it slowed to a trickle, only to ramp up in pressure again as he slid back inside her. Mira cupped her hand under a nipple and brought the milk to her mouth. She tasted wonderful.
The snide joy faded as Silas was possessed by need. His balls churned as Mira writhed on his cock in ecstatic bliss. She’d never been happier in her life. At least, she couldn’t remember a time being happier. Then again, she couldn’t remember much. She remembered Silas, the size of his cock and balls, and the wonderful scent. Mira liked having big, fat hucow titties because it meant Silas would fuck her. Maybe other men like Silas could fuck her, too. Maybe he could go back to the restaurant and get some of the other big boobed hucows to come join them. She could show them how good she was at being a hucow. Mira was always the best at things, so she should be the milkiest, too. Their mouths could suck on her titties while Silas filled her up with cum.
A thought occurred to her, one so exciting that she looked back over her shoulder. She took in the view of her rump squashed against Silas’s muscular body and said, “Mooooo!” She hoped he understood that she wanted him to breed her. If he sprayed his thick cum deep in her pussy, she would be bred and her titties would get even bigger. Silas would clearly love fucking his hucow when she had even bigger pregnancy boobs. The idea seemed to land, but at the last second, he pulled out. The slick cock pushed up between her ass cheeks as it shot ropes of hot cum on the jiggling mounds and across her back. She was disappointed, but it was hard for that to last long when she could feel his dick convulsing between her ass and the hot splash of his spunk on her skin.
He did say he’d keep her. And how long could he resist before he finally came in her pussy and knocked her up. After all, Mira is the best.