Page 1 failed to load.
drblackjack - One Shot - Miku’s Birthday Non-celebration - 03 (END)
More from drblackjack
drblackjack - Paranoia #13 - Zombies - 05
About This Title
Teto could not get her bikini top done up.
The custom swimsuit had been made last week. Tonight it sagged either side at the lower swell of her breasts, insurmountable milky mountains that continued to spray. Her belly hung in heavy, cream-pale folds over the waistband of the skirt, the navel a deep wet pit of lactation. The bottom might as well not have existed: wholly swallowed up by her ass and swollen pussy lips. Her tits sat on the shelf of her gut like two overfilled udders, nipples already dark from the constant spray. Milk had left two spreading maps down the front of her.
Three minutes to curtain.
Miku’s message still glowed on the cracked dressing-room mirror.
To be honest Teto, I’ve always…admired you…I’ve always wanted to BE just like you, whether your realized it or not…
Teto had spent weeks hating her for stealing “the fat vocaloid.” Now the real Miku was ten feet away in a matching ruined outfit, teal tails damp with sweat, her own belly round and jiggling, her own breasts swollen and damp at the tips. Smaller than Teto, she still had a ways to catch up. The look in her eyes as she licked her lips made Teto feel like a prized pig.
“You’re shaking,” Miku said, voice warm and a little greedy. She stepped in until her softer gut pressed against Teto’s much bigger one. “Don’t be nervous. They’re going to love us. The modern audience has always loved a bit of meat on their women and we’re going to lean hard into that demographic my milky little cow.”
Teto’s face burned. In private the milk-cow talk had been hot. In person, with Miku’s hands already sliding under the hang of her belly, it felt filthy.
“But I’m huge,” Teto muttered. “I can barely walk. I leak torrents if someone even so much as looks at me.”
“I know.” Miku squeezed a thick roll at Teto’s side and watched it overflow her fingers. “That’s why I messaged you first. Look at you. You’re a special kind of slutty pig. Your tits are bigger than my head. Your ass doesn’t even fit the chair. You smell like cream and sweat and cake.” She leaned in and licked a fresh bead of milk off Teto’s nipple, then latched on properly, sucking hard enough that Teto’s knees tried to buckle. “And that’s why you’re perfect to stand beside me…perfect to feed me.”
Teto’s shame cracked into a moan. One fat hand came up to cup the back of Miku’s head; the other grabbed a handful of Miku’s smaller, leaking breast and squeezed until milk ran over her knuckles. She bent, awkward around her own gut, and took Miku into her mouth the same way. The dressing room filled with wet sounds: suckling, the soft slap of belly on belly, Teto’s helpless little grunts every time Miku’s teeth grazed her.
“They wanted skinny idols,” Miku murmured against Teto’s dripping areola. “Instead they get you. A jealous bird brain who ate herself gigantic and still racks up the hits. You’re sloppy. You’re leaking all over my costume, coating me in your scent. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Teto sucked harder, hips rolling, her massive thighs trembling. Milk ran down both of them now, soaking the spaghetti straps holding the remains of their dignity together, running into navel folds, dripping onto the floor. Miku’s hands never stopped: spreading Teto’s cheeks, jiggling the underside of her gut, pinching the deep crease where breast met belly.
“After the show I’m taking you home,” Miku whispered. “I’m going to keep you this fat…and then make you FATTER. I’m going to drink you until you can’t sing, only moo. And once I drink you dry, you’re going to WATCH me catch up.”
The stage manager knocked. One minute.
They pulled apart, mouths shiny, chests still letting down, swimsuits entirely destroyed. Teto looked at herself in the mirror: rolls on rolls, tits hanging, belly leading, milk shining on every curve. Miku stood beside her, smaller, hungry, already reaching for Teto’s hand.
“Ready, my milk cow?”
Teto’s laugh came out shaky and wet. The jealousy was gone, replaced only by the sinful, heavy, aching want to walk out there and have world see them just like this.
“Yeah,” she said, and let Miku tug her toward the light. “Let’s go be cows together.”
Teto could not get her bikini top done up.
The custom swimsuit had been made last week. Tonight it sagged either side at the lower swell of her breasts, insurmountable milky mountains that continued to spray. Her belly hung in heavy, cream-pale folds over the waistband of the skirt, the navel a deep wet pit of lactation. The bottom might as well not have existed: wholly swallowed up by her ass and swollen pussy lips. Her tits sat on the shelf of her gut like two overfilled udders, nipples already dark from the constant spray. Milk had left two spreading maps down the front of her.
Three minutes to curtain.
Miku’s message still glowed on the cracked dressing-room mirror.
To be honest Teto, I’ve always…admired you…I’ve always wanted to BE just like you, whether your realized it or not…
Teto had spent weeks hating her for stealing “the fat vocaloid.” Now the real Miku was ten feet away in a matching ruined outfit, teal tails damp with sweat, her own belly round and jiggling, her own breasts swollen and damp at the tips. Smaller than Teto, she still had a ways to catch up. The look in her eyes as she licked her lips made Teto feel like a prized pig.
“You’re shaking,” Miku said, voice warm and a little greedy. She stepped in until her softer gut pressed against Teto’s much bigger one. “Don’t be nervous. They’re going to love us. The modern audience has always loved a bit of meat on their women and we’re going to lean hard into that demographic my milky little cow.”
Teto’s face burned. In private the milk-cow talk had been hot. In person, with Miku’s hands already sliding under the hang of her belly, it felt filthy.
“But I’m huge,” Teto muttered. “I can barely walk. I leak torrents if someone even so much as looks at me.”
“I know.” Miku squeezed a thick roll at Teto’s side and watched it overflow her fingers. “That’s why I messaged you first. Look at you. You’re a special kind of slutty pig. Your tits are bigger than my head. Your ass doesn’t even fit the chair. You smell like cream and sweat and cake.” She leaned in and licked a fresh bead of milk off Teto’s nipple, then latched on properly, sucking hard enough that Teto’s knees tried to buckle. “And that’s why you’re perfect to stand beside me…perfect to feed me.”
Teto’s shame cracked into a moan. One fat hand came up to cup the back of Miku’s head; the other grabbed a handful of Miku’s smaller, leaking breast and squeezed until milk ran over her knuckles. She bent, awkward around her own gut, and took Miku into her mouth the same way. The dressing room filled with wet sounds: suckling, the soft slap of belly on belly, Teto’s helpless little grunts every time Miku’s teeth grazed her.
“They wanted skinny idols,” Miku murmured against Teto’s dripping areola. “Instead they get you. A jealous bird brain who ate herself gigantic and still racks up the hits. You’re sloppy. You’re leaking all over my costume, coating me in your scent. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Teto sucked harder, hips rolling, her massive thighs trembling. Milk ran down both of them now, soaking the spaghetti straps holding the remains of their dignity together, running into navel folds, dripping onto the floor. Miku’s hands never stopped: spreading Teto’s cheeks, jiggling the underside of her gut, pinching the deep crease where breast met belly.
“After the show I’m taking you home,” Miku whispered. “I’m going to keep you this fat…and then make you FATTER. I’m going to drink you until you can’t sing, only moo. And once I drink you dry, you’re going to WATCH me catch up.”
The stage manager knocked. One minute.
They pulled apart, mouths shiny, chests still letting down, swimsuits entirely destroyed. Teto looked at herself in the mirror: rolls on rolls, tits hanging, belly leading, milk shining on every curve. Miku stood beside her, smaller, hungry, already reaching for Teto’s hand.
“Ready, my milk cow?”
Teto’s laugh came out shaky and wet. The jealousy was gone, replaced only by the sinful, heavy, aching want to walk out there and have world see them just like this.
“Yeah,” she said, and let Miku tug her toward the light. “Let’s go be cows together.”
Comments (0)