Alice's Newland

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.

Alice and the pornstar both moaned. Fuck, Alice thought -- why can't that be me? She quickly kicked off her pants to get better access to her cock, and threw off her shirt for good measure.

The camerawoman dragged her acrylic nails down the side of the cowgirl's face. Her eyes visibly focused, no longer staring into the camera idly, instead staring intensely at the person holding it. The chick's nose flared as she leaned into the camerawoman's touch. The camerawoman stuck her thumb slowly into the star's mouth. She eagerly accepted, enveloping it with her finger before shutting her lips closed around the thumb in a perky O. Red lipstick. The finger didn't stop, it went deep, all the way to the joint. The camerawoman slowly dragged it out, and the cow-girls mouth made a wet pop as it left her mouth entirely. Some spittle hang between her lips and the thumb, slowly arching and falling as the camerawoman removed her hand.

The camerawoman laughed and slapped the cowgirls face. Her cheek was already red before the slap, but only got redder. For some reason getting slapped made the cowgirl smile widely.

"Such a good slut," the camerawoman said, getting up and walking over to get a view of her behind. The camera panned down, revealing that the camerawoman was wearing a large strapon against studded black leather pants. The slut was wiggling her ass, looking at her mistress over her shoulder. The mistress slapped her ass, and said something, but Alice wasn't really listening that much anymore.

Alice's hand now pumped up and down her cock, and she was breathing frantically. She was wiggling her butt, imagining that it was her laying there. Imaging herself as a good milky whore about to get fucked. She almost came. Instead, she squeezed her fist around her cock, breathing in sharply and holding her breath, feeling her orgasm recede just at the point before a ruined orgasm.

Alice got up from her bed, still staring at the space between the pixels in the video on her phone. Her cock wiggled like a flagpole as she walked into the kitchen. She was dripping precum in long strings, stretching, then falling. She didn't really care. She'd clean later.

She poured herself a glass of milk. It couldn't hurt. Right?

In her horny milk-white haze she didn't have time to think any more about it before she slammed the milk down her throat. It was delicious. Milky honeylike, with a touch of cinnamon and sea salt.

Alice felt a pang of anxiety shoot through her, shaking her jerk-dumb mind awake. Was that really a good idea? Her right leg got restless, she started pacing.

She didn't know the effects the milk would have on her. Why did she drink it?

"Well, look," she thought, looking at the back of the carton. A full dose is one carton. Which means -- just one glass couldn't be that dangerous. Alice breathed out, letting her shoulders sink. She'd be okay. It's fine. She stood like that for a minute, before becoming cognizant of the mooing filling her kitchen.

She brought her hand up in front of her mouth. Was she doing that?

No. The video was still playing. She looked at the video again. At this point the cow was ironically enough riding the camera-domme cowgirl style, still tugging at her spurting breasts. Milk shot out, some drops had hit the camera lens, some of it ran lazily down her breasts and her shining milk-wet stomach, ending up as lubrication for the strapon. But most of the milk shot onto the domme's upper body, which was barely visible at the bottom of the camera POV. She had medium sized breasts with nipple piercings, and killer abs. The dimples in her abs and her v-line were filled with milk, obscuring the skin beneath. When she pulsed her abs driving her plastic cock into the tongue-lolling cowgirl the milk bounced of her skin, falling out of frame.

Alice started jerking of again, slowly. She still had a half-chub after her brief panic and figured she might as well. Could be relaxing. The phone was laying on her kitchen bench, and she was leaning over it with her non-dominant left hand. Soon she was rock hard again -- this time imaging that it was her fucking the cow-slut. She brought one knee up on her kitchen bench and started fucking her hand as she was jerking off. Despite her sex fantasy, she looked far more like the cow-slut than the domme. Panting. Tongue hanging out of her wide-open mouth. Hazy, submissive, and far-away eyes.

Soon enough only one thought remained in her fuck-dazzled mind. She could look like that, too.

Still fucking her hand, Alice balanced her weight on the taunt leg pointed straight down into the floor and the knee sweating up the kitchen bench. She leaned over and grabbed the milk carton, chugging it down, straining her eyes to see the video even though it was partially obscured by the carton. The domme had taken her plastic cock out of the cowslut's pussy and was slowly putting it in her ass, bitch sinking down. The domme put one hand on her hips, guiding her -- not that she needed to.

Alice was about to cum.

Quickly, she brought the carton's opening next to her bursting cock, jizzing into it. Thick ropes of her milk shot off in the same tempo as the pornstar's tits. At the last and seventh rope she flexed her ass, all the muscles in her body were just as hard as her cock. Her stomach tensed up as if doing curls, pushing all the breath out of her in a long, raspy breath as she climaxed.

She blinked, rapidly, and breathed in. Fuck. How much had she drunk? She jiggled the carton, and it was over half-empty. She started to feel her anxiety rising again, but she wouldn't let it.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Alice put her thumb over the cartons opening, shaking it rigorously, before chugging. The formerly sweet and salty milk had taken on a more salty-sweet taste. It wasn't quite as delicious, but fuck it, at this point it didn't really matter what it tasted like.

She flexed her lips around the carton's mouth, as if to tease out every drop. As the flow of milk slowed, she started tonguing the opening and furiously jerking off again. Just as the last drop of salty milk was licked up by her eager tongue, she felt herself explode, cum shooting out wherever it went.

Alice slammed the now-empty carton onto the cummed-up kitchen table, allowing herself to breathe and think freely again.

To her surprise, she wasn't anxious. After that hard of an orgasm she felt relaxed, clear headed -- yet, more. Her core fluttering, the hairs on her neck standing up -- she wasn't anxious.

She was excited.

She didn't have to wonder anymore, no matter what happened next.

Looking down onto the pornstar cowgirl still riding her mistresses strapon she knew why. Somehow she felt confident that she'd like the changes.