Curse of the Goddess

This was a request where I was asked to come up with a globalized fetish of cow girls. Thoroughly enjoyed writing it - hope you enjoy readers!

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The Goddess looked down on the Earth and she wept.

Across the world, as they had for millennia, mankind continued to abuse mother Earth.

They defiled her with their machines.

They abused her with their waste.

And they spread across her, never thinking of the damage they did, only about themselves.

And their treatment of animals...

That was the true evil.

They farmed them, caged them, murdered them!

She was the Goddess of nature, and here the humans continued to hurt her kind. Defiling them.

They had turned it into a production, despite the fact that substitutes were readily available.

They could eat the plants and vegetables of the ground.

Instead they chose murder.

They didn't even believe she existed anymore!

She was forgotten.

But she would make them remember.

She had had enough. She would not allow this to continue any longer.

She would curse them.

And they would learn their lesson.

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Sarah took her position on the track.

"Alright girls! Let's go another lap! Most of you were well off qualifying time then! I want to see pace!" Mrs Johnson yelled from her place at the starting line. She checked her starter pistol, making sure the cartridge was in there. It looked good.

"God, we've been doing this all day, isn't there anything else we can do?" Sarah's friend Michelle grumbled next to her. It was a hot spring day and sweat was pouring off her silken black skin.

"I know, I need a break. She's grinding us down." Sarah herself was flushed red from all the training, her pure white skin never bothering to tan despite how much time she spent out in the elements. Typical Scandinavian genes.

"If you can't keep up girls, don't worry, you can always drop off the team and leave me to go to nationals in your place." Sarah eyed her opponent. The snarky comment had come from the woman at the end of the starting lineup, Bronte, the team captain and all around bitch. Sarah just flipped her off.

There was no way Sarah was going to lose to her. "No chance. That position is mine!" Before Bronte could retort Mrs Johnson cut them off.

"Position ladies!" A steely eyed Bronte turned away from the two girls, both Sarah and Michelle giggling, as they got into position. The sprint team was competitive and they were both aiming to qualify for nationals. Bronte was stiff competition though.

"Ready!" Sarah concentrated, her left foot on the line, right foot back into the chocks, chest forward, arms ready to pump. Thoughts of Bronte left her as she eyed the finish line a hundred meters away. Her knees were sore, she was tired, and the sun glared in her face, but this was what she lived for.

BANG!

The starting gun went off, and all ten of the track team launched themselves down the track... at a waddle.

After all, they were all nine months pregnant. And had been since the age of 18.

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No one to this day knows why it happened. No one could explain it. Some believed it to be the work of God, or God's, depending upon religion. Some thought it was the government, an experiment gone wrong. Some thought it was aliens. No one of credibility took ownership. And no one was able to reverse it.

One day the world had woken up and every cow on the face of the Earth was gone. Vanished. Disappeared. Every single one. Farms were empty. It was a like they had never existed. In the blink of an eye across the globe they had ceased to be. And they never returned.

And then part two of the phenomenon had happened. Every woman from the age of 18 and up to menopause was now pregnant. But not just knocked up in the first month, oh no, they were all nine months pregnant with bellies about to pop. Their breasts swelled, hips grew wide, and every fertile woman on the planet was now a fecund princess. But they never gave birth - they just stayed pregnant. Whatever had caused this phenomenon had changed female biology as well. Men were still required to seed a woman, and only then after another nine months, would they give birth to the young they perpetually carried. Childbirth was now painless and easy, with births now typically multiples of three and four. It was like female fertility was an explosion.

So, with all cows now left from Earth, and now 50% of the population readily able to lactate, the world saw an opportunity and took it. Cow farms became female farms. Ran out of milk at home? Simply grab your wife, and milk her tits into your bowl of cereal. Cow milk was replaced by breast milk in the food markets. Women were producing as much as a cow ever had. The world economy recovered and carried on almost instantly after the change.

But for girls like Sarah, they still had their everyday lives. The fashion industry changed. Now it was all about showing off your belly, your giant tits of milk. Women suddenly became more matriarchal and more inclined to stay home and now raise their growing litters of children they birthed. Sarah was a dying breed. A woman trying her best to carry on in the old tradition, while the world changed around her. And even she was now struggling to resist her urges...

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Sarah checked her phone once more as she walked down the sidewalk, her anxiety now creeping in. She was late by about twenty minutes. She cursed herself as she tried to hurry up, but being nine months pregnant in heels meant there was only so fast you could go. Heels was one fashion trend Sarah silently wished had disappeared after the great change, but sadly it had endured. After a full day of training on the field, her ankles were feeling quite swollen as she clopped down the busy sidewalk headed to her destination. She had a date tonight.

Michelle has set her up with one of her boyfriend Julian's friends. Normally she would have been against the whole affair. She had her training and studies to concentrate on. But the last few months had been rough. Her long-time boyfriend Bobby had broken up with her. It had been so random, so unexpected, that she was left crushed. One day he had told her that he didn't expect it to last much longer, that he was bored, and he had left her all alone. She'd been in a slump ever since. Michelle had been trying to get her out of it. "You don't have to marry the guy just go out and have some fun!" She had said. She'd finally given and agreed to be set up.

And here she was, walking down the street, headed to her first date in years. She'd dressed appropriately as all women did these days. All bellies had to be on show. When every woman was nine months pregnant eternally, the belly had become the new fashion statement. Sarah wore a little denim crop top, tied at the front, which kept her heaving tits in place just barely. Every step made them bounce and nearly sent them flying free of their restraints every time. She wore a small pair of shorts, riding high up her thighs, with a white pair of suspenders that ran from the waist line and up over her shoulders. Her belly though was the real eye catcher. She'd stuck on a gold henna tattoo foil over her belly button, a rotating flower design, that took up the whole front of her belly. It was intrinsically detailed and was firmly attached that it would last the whole night even if she sweated profusely. In the middle of the tattoo she had her belly button pierced, with a small red encrusted jewel swinging from her popped out button. She had a young, youthful and hip feel to her. Perfect for her date.

As Sarah walked down the street, she couldn't help but notice all the other women she passed. All of them had their bellies out, tattooed or jeweled up, all wearing what would have been considered risqué clothes a few generations back. Women just didn't care for clothing anymore. It was an old tradition that was being thankfully being erased now. Women wore bras and panties because they had too, sometimes a shirt or pants, but nothing ever more than that. All they wanted was to be naked and free, birthing children in a field, being milked...

Sarah stopped herself. That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to have her career, to be a track star for her country! To be a living birth factory, that was what other women wanted. Not her... but she had to admit, those thoughts were becoming stronger recently, as if her bodies hormones were kicking higher into overdrive every day. Still - she fought it. There would come a time for that later in her life. But right now, she had to make her date!

She found the restaurant, a small little Italian café on the corner of the street, and quickly waddled her way in. "Excuse me Miss, do you have a reservation?" A waiter greeted her as she entered, Sarah nervously surveying the room to find the man she was looking for. She'd been shown a picture by Michelle. Quite handsome. But in a sea of unknown faces, it was difficult to spot him.

"Yes, I'm here to meet a man named Peter Clapton. There should be a reservation under his name for Seven PM." She saw a clock on the wall. It was just about to hit seven twenty. She groaned. She hoped he was still here and hadn't left. She would have probably walked out by now.

"Ah yes - Peter Clapton." The waiter checked a leather-bound book by the door. "Please follow me ma'am." The waiter walked briskly into the dining area which was packed with customers, and Sarah followed behind, trying her best to keep up. The restaurant was packed with couples, well dressed men in suits and ties, eating with scantily clad pregnant women. He darted and weaved between the diners, walking through the chairs and tables, and Sarah nearly slammed her huge belly into a few of them as her massive size prevented easy maneuvering. The waiter was taking her all the way to the back of the restaurant to a booth in the corner, where a single man sat facing away from her in the little semi-circle.

"Here we go ma'am, your booth." The waiter stood by the seat, hand gesturing to the table and her date. The man sitting there noticed his company had arrived and quickly stood up, turning to face her, hands quickly buttoning up his suit jacket as he did.

The photos had not done him justice. He was taller, taller than her by a good foot, with a chiseled jaw line and a solid body that clearly spoke about his personal fitness. He was in very good shape. Jet black hair was immaculately cut, and his suit was pristine and trim, dark grey, with a bold green tie. What Sarah had not counted on was his age. He was in his mid-thirties at least, though still ruggedly handsome. At twenty years of age he was by far her senior. He was a friend of Michelle's boyfriend? Julian was still a kid himself! He was nearly old enough to be his Dad.

"Sarah? Hello." He smiled lopsidedly. His voice was deep. Sarah felt her heart flutter just a little.

"Sorry I'm so late! Training went late today." She was embarrassed, feeling her cheeks turn red. The waiter departed as briskly as he had arrived.

"Perfectly fine. These things happen. I'm just glad you came. Please - take a seat." He pointed to the part of the lounge opposite him. Sarah gave another embarrassed smile and nodded, moving past him. The table was thankfully a decent enough distance away from the lounge that she was able to squeeze her rotund belly in and still have a gap. As she went to sit down, Peter took her arm, helping her in and seating herself, smiling calmly. His grip was strong but reassuring. She felt her skin warm to his touch.

Making sure she was adequately comfortable, Peter returned to his side of the table, unbuttoning his suit jacket again as he entered the booth. "I hope Italian is OK. I've never been here before but every time I've walked past, I've seen it to be packed to the rafters. I find that to be a good omen - if it was terrible no one would eat here."

She patted her exposed pregnant belly. "Good thinking - I'm famished! After all I'm eating for four." She laughed nervously, silently hating herself. What a lame thing to say! She was embarrassing herself in front of this man!

But to her surprise Peter simply chuckled. "Then I suggest we order some appetizer's and get our appetites nice and wet."

That's not the only thing getting wet, Sarah thought. At least she'd kept that in her head and hadn't spoken out loud!

And so, after Sarah calmed herself down and began to relax, her and Peter started talking. She professed a few times how sorry she was for being late, but either it clearly didn't bother Peter or he was very good at masking it. But if she had to guess, he truly wasn't bothered.

"If you don't mind me asking, how do you know Julian? He said you were a work colleague and friend?"

Peter gave a little smirk. "More former than latter, I'm afraid. I'm Julian's boss."

Sarah guffawed. "What!?"

"I'm his boss at the office downtown. I've been his boss for about a year now while he's been doing his internship."

"Really..." The waiter arrived during their conversation, interrupting. They ordered some appetizer's and mains, drinks, Sarah ordering women's size portions, nearly double a man's to keep the brood that forever lived in her belly fed, and the waiter hurried off so Sarah could get back to it. "No offense Peter, but you are a bit older than I was expecting. I thought you were Julian's uncle or something - not that there's anything wrong with that! You're quite good looking, handsome! I mean you are alright - I mean, for a man..." Sarah felt her brain about to implode and wanted to die.

Again Peter surprised her. He gave her a curious smile. "Thank you, Sarah. You're not so bad yourself. Quite beautiful, actually."

Sarah melted into the seat, her whole body so hot she felt her belly even turn a bright red color.

"I had been talking to Julian during the week, and he had mentioned he had a lovely young friend who was currently single and looking to get back into the dating game. I, myself, have not really dated in quite some time, and he suggested that I should take you out for dinner. I'm glad he did."

The night continued. The two continued to chat. Drinks were brought over. Both had ordered a tall glass of milk, however Sarah had hers ordered with a dollop of chocolate mixed through, while Peter had some Irish whiskey in his. The milk was locally sourced from a farm just outside the city the waiter explained. That was always nice to know. There were a few female farms in the area, Sarah seeing them sometimes when she was travelling to and from sports events. Fields of lovely naked pregnant women in the tall grass, being milked twice to three times a day, living a life of natural bliss. Once she had seen a bull, a tall muscular black man, mounting one of the women, fertilizing her... it was something she had never forgotten. The image remained in her head as she watched Peter drink from his glass, drinking his fill of breast milk, wondering if he had ever bred or fucked like a bull before...

"... Sarah? Sarah?" She snapped back out of her daydream. Peter was looking at her.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Julian said you were a runner. Quite good as well."

She waved him off. "I'm ok, not anything special."

"Nonsense. He said you could make the Pregnant Olympics one day."

"Now he's just being generous." Sarah had dreamed of one day making it to the Pregnant Olympics, but it would still require her to make a faster time, and she'd have to place at the nationals at the very least in a few months. Her time today was good, but she would have to maintain it and improve a little to ensure a spot. She'd dreamed about going ever since she was a little girl, seeing all those pregnant women on TV every four years, competing in all athletic events, not letting their physical size slow them down but actually help them. Those women were her heroes. And she was closer than ever to making her dream a reality.

"What about you Peter? What are your goals in life?" Their dinners arrived. Peter had ordered an alfredo pasta, while Sarah had gone for the spaghetti. As the waiter put their food down on the table, Sarah's meal was at least twice the size of Peter's. She felt her immense stomach rumble and she licked her lips. Being so active and pregnant worked up a major appetite.

As Sarah shovelled the food into her face, Peter could only watch with bemusement as he took the opposite approach and went slowly. Even with her massive portion Sarah was bound to finish her meal first at this rate.

"Goals? I guess I've been very successful with my company so far. We've been very stable for a few years now and have continued to grow and expand. Wealth was never really a driving factor, but I can say I do OK financially. Frankly, I'm now just looking to find someone to share all this with. Someone with a similar driving force in life, someone who wants what they want and isn't afraid to fight for it. It's hard to find in the opposite sex these days. That was why I was so happy to say yes when Julian thought about pairing us up together. A woman who wants a career. It was very exciting."

Sarah slowed her eating, chewing her food as Peter seemed to be looking right through her, right into her very soul. She could feel him, searching her, trying to find something within her with his gaze.

"And...?" She swallowed.

Peter smiled. "So far, so good."

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Hours later the cab dropped them off outside Peter's house. Sarah was having such a good time Peter had invited her back and she had agreed. He was charming, with a practiced ease about him, and always a wry chuckle. As they had sat in restaurant talking more and more, she had found herself getting comfortable around him. They'd only left after Sarah had eaten two servings of cheesecake for dessert and the restaurant staff had begun to pack up. Now she stood on the sidewalk as Peter paid the taxi driver, looking up at his house.

For one thing, he was certainly well off. They were in the inner city where housing was at a premium, and all the houses were squashed together on what little room they had. Peter's house had a large concrete wall around the outside running the perimeter, but even then she could still see the second story of the place. Glass windows which ran floor to ceiling, everything looked modern, light sconces on the walls - Peter lived a very comfortable life.

As the taxi driver departed, Peter led her past the door on the outside of his place after inputting the right key code, and she followed him up the narrow stone path to his front door. It had gotten colder now that it was the middle of the night, and her crop top and mini skirt were doing little to keep herout of the elements. She wrapped her arms over her belly, trying to warm herself. Peter noticed and as they reached the door he put his jacket over her shoulders.

"It'll be warm enough inside once I turn on the heating. Hopefully this will keep you comfortable until then."

She could think of other ways to get warm but she bit her lip, only nodding and silently thanking him. She had no idea what was going on with her hormones tonight but there was currently a fire brewing between her legs. She would have bent over and let him take her right here if he'd wanted. She was finding him irresistible.

Peter opened the door and guided her through, and she finally began to understand just how rich he really was. His house was a mansion, and as he turned on all the lights, he began to illuminate all the artwork he had on the walls, the polished timber floors, the expensive looking chairs and the book case which ran alongside one wall.

"Sorry it's a bit of a mess." Peter apologized, slipping off his shoes.