Ria, a vaporeon, was slinking around the outskirts of a farm. This situation was odd for a number of reasons. Something as rare as a vaporeon having managed to avoid capture, that she had a proper name in spite of her roaming free with no trainer in sight, that she’d chosen to skulk around a farm of all places—all oddities, little bits of strangeness adding up to one great mystery. But then again, eeveelutions were strange creatures. Ria’s own strangeness laid in her rather unique tastes. Tastes that her trainer had done his best to accommodate, bless his heart, but he simply didn’t have the resources, time, or understanding to fulfil. So Ria had been forced to go out and see to them herself, as she’d done so many times before, always in this very spot. A tiny oasis nestled in the bosom of so much farmland. The farm was far from where her trainer lived, but it wasn’t far from the river, which meant for a vaporeon like herself, it was practically no distance at all. Though farmland meant precious little cover for Ria to use in her approach, and Ria needed quite a bit of cover—the tastes that drove her out here had also given her a few more curves than vaporeon, with their sleek swimmer’s builds, were known for. That meant she had to take a good bit of care during her approach, making sure every bit of her bulk was hidden. Ria laid low, covering in tall grass and vegetation when available, dashing and darting as quick as possible when it wasn’t. Grassland wasn’t very conducive to stealth when you were a huge blue fishcat; timing, strategy, and caution were essential. Perhaps it would’ve been easier if it were night time rather than midday, but Ria would never be able to slip out of her trainer’s house past sundown. Still, as Ria dashed out from the cover of a small hillock and up to the fence that encircled the farm, she could see that it being noon hadn’t stopped everyone from sleeping. Two miltank, lying side by side in the shade of the barn, leaning against each other as they napped. Exactly what Ria had been looking for, and the only thing keeping her from it was a wire fence. The problem, of course, being that those wires were electrified. That was probably enough to dissuade any wild pokémon that were poking their nose where they didn’t belong—but not someone with the sort of smarts that a trained pokémon like brought to the table. Ria opened her mouth and started spraying down the fence post closest to her with a generous stream of water until the wood was good and soaked. The water from her attacks was pure, non-conductive—a fact Ria was happy to have learned, as she’d have precious few options for getting around the fence otherwise, short of digging under it. Once the post was sufficiently drenched, Ria closed her muzzle slightly to tighten the stream of water she was putting out, turning it from a gentle hosing into a thin, powerful stream of water. She shifted her aim from the post itself to one of the insulators attached to it, the uppermost one. The plastic didn’t stand a chance. It tore itself clean off of the pole, and once it was gone, there was nothing to prevent the wire from touching the wood. There was a loud electric snap as it made contact, then nothing. After waiting a second or two in the interests of safety, Ria leapt, grabbing onto the top wire of the fence briefly before dropping back down—landing on the other side unharmed and none the worse for wear. Ria assumed the farmer had to notice her shorting out the fence every time she made one of her ‘visits’. Thankfully, she was never around when that happened, so there was absolutely no reason for her to worry about it. After another quick glance around the area to ensure this time was no different, she started off towards the side of the barn. And right up to the two miltank laid out on the grass next to it, bodies shifting up and down with the deep, steady breaths of sleep, still aside from the occasional flick of an ear or tail. Exactly what Ria wanted; it wouldn’t do to have either of them wake up when she was only half-done. Both were lying on their sides, one partially on top of the other. Each had their udders out and exposed; in the case of the latter, they were slightly elevated, making them that much easier to see—and access. Ria grinned. This was going to be a very special visit indeed. Every time before, she’d only gone after a single miltank, both because of availability and her own limits. But she’d drunk a whole lot of milk since then, and this time was going to be different. Ria chose the topmost miltank to be her first. Moving slowly and quietly, so as not to accidentally wake either of the two cows, Ria crept forward, stalking like a born hunter. Which she supposed she was, in a sense, but her hunting wouldn’t be nearly as grisly as the usual sort. She wouldn’t be tearing the throat out of her quarry, no; her mouth was needed in far different places than the miltank’s neck. Ria got down on her front and crawled up close to where the miltank’s udder-heavy belly revealed itself, four teats jutting out from it and practically begging for attention. Judging by the firmness of her udder, its surface taut and slightly swollen looking, Ria could tell that this miltank was ripe for milking. If she hadn’t been asleep, the cow would probably be pestering the farmer for just that. Viewed like that, it seemed like what Ria was doing everyone a service. It gave the miltank some much needed relief, took a bit of the workload off of the farmer’s shoulders—and, of course, gave Ria a nice, long drink of that creamy goodness she so desperately craved. Ria’s breath quickened at the thought, a series of deep, heavy pants escaping her. The smell of miltank clung to the inside of her nose, a smell that she’d long since come to associate with need and desire. If she held back for a moment longer, there was no telling what those needs would drive her to do. Before she totally lost control of herself, Ria crawled forward those last few inches and took one of the miltank’s teats into her mouth. It only took a single suck for the milk to flow, spraying into Ria’s mouth in a thick stream with only the slightest coaxing. Oh yes, the miltank was definitely aching to be milked. Ria gulped down that first mouthful and shuddered as she felt it sliding down her throat, leaving in its wake its trademark rich, creamy flavour. The bottled stuff just didn’t compare—in terms of freshness, taste, or the sheer [i]warmth[/i] one felt sucking it straight from the nipple. But that was only just the beginning. After the first gulp was another, the teat only needing the slightest bit of suction to start spraying into her mouth once again, filling it with a fresh burst of milky goodness. More of that sweetness, that thickness, almost like sucking down mouthfuls of melted milkshake. Ria had hardly swallowed down what was in her mouth before she was pulling another drag of the stuff from the teat wedged into her muzzle. For her part, the miltank took it well. Her tail and ears flicked more often, and Ria could hear the cow’s breath speeding up a touch, what sounded like the beginnings of a moan occasionally slipping past her lips—but that was all. Her eyes never fluttered, and she stayed deep in the thick of sleep, a perfectly docile beast for Ria to suckle from. If so gentle a term could be applied to what Ria was doing. She was sucking as much milk from the teat in her mouth as she could, the only limiting factor being preservation of the miltank’s sleep. Though Ria had to actively try to keep that in mind, consumed with consuming the miltank’s milk as she was. It would be so easy for Ria to lose herself, go completely wild, grope at the cow’s udder with her paws while violently sucking at her teats until she’d squeezed them for every drop they had. But Ria had slightly better control of herself than that. She held herself back, only sucking hard enough to maintain that thick, steady stream, an endless river of warm milk pouring down her throat and into her stomach with every gulp. Or at least, seemingly endless. Ria always got so caught up in the act of drinking that she forgot she wasn’t drinking from some infinite reservoir of ambrosia. Eventually, the output of the teat in her mouth started to die down, thinning out to a trickle, a dribble, then nothing, regardless of how hard she sucked. A shame. She wanted more. But in spite of what her boundless thirst might’ve wanted her to believe, Ria hadn’t been shorted. Judging by the weight sitting in her belly, warm and sloshing with her every move, she had to have drunk at least... a gallon of milk. No, more, it had to be more. She let the teat slip free from her lips, feeling a few drops of milk-streaked saliva roll down her chin as she did so. It joined the rest of the milk that had smeared itself there, down her throat, even onto the frill around her neck. A bit wasteful, certainly. Ria was a bit of a messy drinker. Thankfully, she still had a whole three teats left to make use of, and a whole ‘nother miltank besides. Even if she wound up drenched in the stuff, she was sure that she’d still get her fill. A single drop of milk beaded on the tip of the teat she’d just released, the very last bit of fluid it had to offer. Ria licked it clean before zeroing in on the next, her burning thirst for milk not in the least quenched. She needed [i]more.[/i] But it was only partway through Ria’s draining of her newest teat that she started experiencing something more than the typical satisfaction that came with gorging on milk. The feeling she was getting from gulping down milk had gone beyond mere fullness, because fullness was exactly what she was exceeding. There was no more space inside herself for all that milk to go—so her body was expanding to make room for it. Ria could feel her stomach distending to make room for all the liquid gold she was packing into it. There was some discomfort in it, but she ignored it. It was easy to brush off in the face of the satisfaction of being so utterly full of milk, the weight shifting inside her with every motion and always, always growing, building with every rich, flavourful mouthful. The feeling started off as purely internal, though anyone who put a hand to Ria’s underside would be able to feel the tightness of her stomach underneath, even if it wasn’t yet visible at a glance. That didn’t last for long; there was only so much room inside her to grow into before she started growing outward. Her belly started to swell. It was a subtle thing at first, liquid weight only able to add itself to Ria’s figure as fast as she could suck it out, but it added up. Every drop that she drew from the miltank’s teat added itself to the mass, gradually bloating Ria’s figure. By the time Ria pulled away from her latest teat, having drained it just as dry as the first, her middle was no longer flat—if her natural chubby curves could’ve been called ‘flat’. They certainly couldn’t anymore. She was sporting a veritable pot belly, a heavy liquid gut that, even as big as it had become, was only a portent of things to come. When Ria let the miltank’s teat slide free from her mouth, hot breath spilling past her lips onto the cow’s udders, that gut let out a loud groan as if protesting the treatment she was putting it through. Ria paid it no mind. When she’d first started doing this, sneaking onto the farm to pay her dues to its residents, she’d barely been able to finish off a single teat for how bloated it made her feel. That was how she’d learned her body sometimes underestimated its own limits. Ria [i]knew[/i] she could do more, and she was certain her body would catch up to her brain at some point. With that hope partially in mind, though mainly from the desire for more milk—infinitely more milk, a never-ending abundance of milk—Ria took a hold of not one, but two teats in her mouth, suckling on the both of them at once. Ria brought her paws up to help milk the cow’s udder directly into her mouth, unsatisfied with the volume she was getting with suction alone. She wasn’t disappointed. The two teats squirting in unison had milk pouring into her mouth at a rate she could only just barely keep up with. Most of it she gulped down, drinking the stuff in great, frantic swallows that had her throat bulging from their sheer size. Whatever excess that she couldn’t dribbled out the front of her muzzle and rolled down her chin, coating her in an even thicker layer of white. Though that was saying nothing about the most obvious thing of all. Doubling the amount of milk meant a change that, as predictable as it might’ve been, was no less striking to behold. Ria’s belly was now swelling out at an even faster rate, no longer the gradual crawl from before, but a very much visible ballooning outwards. What was once a pot belly rapidly grew in size until it surpassed what could be reasonably described as a pot belly and became something more befitting the phrase ‘beer gut’. Ria could feel her stomach straining under the influx of milk, groaning as it was forced to grow so much so quickly. Ria revelled in the stretch. It served as a physical reminder of all the milk inside her, a little bit of joy thrumming through her body. She kneaded the miltank’s udder like a cat, pushing and pulling at it with her paws to squeeze out as much milk as possible—but softly, ever softly, still remembering the importance of not waking the cow even in her milk-drunk state. Though it was difficult to maintain that sort of composure when the flow of milk started to thin. Ria wanted more than anything for those twin jets to go on forever, a pair of thick streams pouring down her throat and right into her stomach until she was full and warm, so she could nestle herself up against the miltank’s fuzzy belly and sleep just as deep as the cow herself. But that was impossible, just like so many of Ria’s desires tended to be. When both of the teats in her mouth finally ran dry, Ria pulled herself off of them, letting out a soft whine. It wasn’t enough. Even with her belly big enough to scrape the ground when she stood up, packed to the brim with milk and wobbling with her every move, it wasn’t nearly enough. Thankfully, she had a second miltank at her disposal, ready to be milked. If Ria couldn’t drink from a single cow to her satisfaction, then she’d just have to make hers rounds through the farm and drain them one by one until she finally got what she was after. Ria pushed herself up to her feet, something made more difficult by the fresh addition of goodness knew how many pounds of milk to her underside. The grass tickled the underside of her belly as she walked, traversing the three or four feet necessary to gain access to the next miltank’s udder. Even that small distance felt like a big effort. Ria had never drank so much before. Typically, she would’ve stopped at half of what she’d already drunk, and even that much she’d be left feeling for the rest of the day. This was very much overkill. At the same time, it wasn’t, because Ria wanted more, and that meant what she’d already had wasn’t enough. She could find some place to hide and sleep off all the milk once she was good and satisfied. The priority right then was reaching that point. When Ria got to the spot where she needed to be, in front of the miltank’s belly and next to those tantalizing nipples, she found it a bit difficult to get at them. This miltank’s udder was lower than the other one’s was. While Ria could get at the uppermost teats well enough, her belly made it hard to bend down enough to get at the ones on the bottom. She could’ve started with the top ones, sure, but Ria was forward thinking. She knew that her belly was only going to get bigger the more milk she drank, and if she went from the top down, there was a decent chance she’d get big enough that it would be practically impossible to bend down to reach the bottom. No, she was smarter than that. She’d work from the bottom up. Acting in spite of the difficulties her belly presented, Ria craned her neck down, trying to grab one of the miltank’s teats in her mouth. Her claws dug into the dirt, trying to hold her own weight on top of that of all the milk inside her. She almost had it, tantalizing pink flesh only a scant few inches away. Just a bit more... That was the moment the ground decided it wasn’t going to support her anymore. Ria’s paw slipped on the grass. Her claws dug furrows into the earth in a completely failed attempt to maintain her balance, her momentum carrying her forward in a flop directly onto the miltank’s belly. The force of the impact woke the cow instantly, peaceful sleep dissipating in a flurry of loud mooing and flailing. All the commotion was quick to wake her companion as well. Within seconds, Ria was lying in the middle of a complete bovine meltdown, struggling to recover her footing amid swinging cow hooves and the hindering weight of her own gut. In the distance, Ria heard the barking of some sort of canine. What kind specifically, she couldn’t say—but she could tell that it was getting closer. That was all the motivation she needed to get out of there, fast. With the two miltank more focused on getting away from her than trying to capture her, Ria was able to struggle out from between the two pokémon and get her feet back under her. As soon as she was back on all fours, she started back the way she came, as fast as her legs would take her. Which wasn’t particularly fast, as it turned out. While vaporeon weren’t renowned for their land speed, Ria could usually work up to a decent clip. But with what felt like at least half her body weight hanging off her underside in the form of a huge, milky belly, dragging along the ground and slowing her to a crawl if the ground was uneven or she dipped down too low, Ria’s land speed had dipped down to something more suitable for a slowbro than anything else. The sounds of barking had gotten louder, closer, joined by rustling grass as whatever pokémon it was loped towards her. Something was jingling; Ria could only assume it was a bell on the beast’s collar. It was gaining on her fast, and she still had almost a hundred feet left to close before she reached the fence. There was no way that Ria would be able to reach it in time. Still, she had to try, because there was even less chance of her being able to stand up to any sort of fight in her current state. She summoned up every bit of energy her body could muster, loping along the grass in a dead sprint that would be a light jog at her usual weight— Before Ria was stopped dead by a pair of jaws clamping shut around the fin of her tail, all her momentum arrested by the painful teeth embedded into her flesh. Ria let out a high squeak, while whatever it was that had bit her let out a high growl before yanking her back with a twisting jerk, pulling her feet out from under her and sending her tumbling onto her back. The position at least allowed Ria to get a good look at her assailant—once her vision stopped spinning from the flip, anyway. They were definitely a canine. A stoutland, specifically, clad in a great coat of fur and an adorable little red collar. Yes, one with a bell, yellow and comically large. The only reason Ria could make out that last detail through all the fur was because, once she was grounded, the stoutland pounced on top of her. They pinned her to the ground with their paws, flashing her a maw full of slavering fangs as they let out a snarl. Ria let out a squeak of terror in response. She wasn’t much of a battler to begin with, and this was a pokémon trained and bred to fend off predators. She was completely at their mercy, vulnerable to whatever treatment they felt appropriate for an intruding thief. She screwed her eyes shut tight and waited for whatever that was. “Didja get him, Terri?” said a female voice, approaching from the same direction the stoutland had come from. Ria cracked open one eye, catching sight of its owner running towards them: she was the spitting image of a country girl, clad in a pair of overalls over a flannel shirt, a pair of boots coated in muck, and a long blonde ponytail topped by a wide brimmed hat. She was also gripping a pitchfork in both hands. Ria hoped that was because she’d been chucking hay and not because she intended on skewering trespassers. “Oh, good girl, Terri, good girl!” she said. The stoutland tilted her head up and gave a happy yap, before whirling back to snarling in Ria’s face with just as much ferocity as ever. Ria cringed as dog spittle flecked across her face. “So yer the one who keeps muckin’ with my fence, eh?” the woman said, walking up so she could look down her nose at the sad display that was Ria. Her eyes lingered on the vaporeon’s middle, downright gravid from how much milk it was holding. “Going by the look of ya, not hard t’guess what you’ve been doin’ it for, neither.” Ria blushed. When she was all alone and caught up in the thirst for milk, being so full of the stuff that she could hardly walk was a tantalizing idea. When she was caught by someone else in that same state, it felt less liberating and satisfying, and more mortifying and shameful. “Strange t’see a vaporeon ‘round these parts, though,” she said, upending her pitchfork and planting it in the ground so that she could lean on it. “Mighty rare. Would be a shame ta deal with something like you like any ordin’ry milk thief. Hmm...” The farmer paused, mouth quirked to one side, thoughts and plans turning over in her mind. After a few seconds had passed, her eyes lit up, then narrowed, a sly grin forming on her face. “Oh, now I got it. I know [i]just[/i] what t’do with a slippery thing like you.” She tugged her pitchfork back out of the ground and slung it over one shoulder, walking off while calling back over her shoulder. “C’mon, Terri!” The stoutland let out a bark of acknowledgement and hopped up, trotting off after her owner—with her jaws clamped down onto the frill around Ria’s neck, dragging her along for the ride as if her and the multiple gallons of milk swirling around her belly weighed nothing at all. It made Ria feel very much like a cub being carried around by its mother. Though they weren’t headed towards the farm’s exit. Now that she was upright, Ria could see they were moving back towards the barn she’d just came from. --- The farmer pushed open the doors to the barn, and Ria got a look at the inside as soon as Terri trotted in behind her. Inside was something that Ria would’ve found exhilarating were she experiencing it under any other circumstances: lined up along the walls of the were eight miltank, four to a side, each contained in their own little cubicle. All of them had their teats sheathed in plastic cups in what Ria surmised was some sort of milking machine. They were connected to clear rubber tubes that ran along the floor towards a great metal container in the centre of the room, standing atop a pedestal of pumps, tubes, and machinery. It was enormous. It had to be, given the milk output a single miltank was capable of. That container would need to hold eight times that amount, at minimum. Ria looked up at it with a sense of terror and awe. The miltank, however, did not share her sentiments. They lounged in their cubicles with a sense of contented detachment, only a couple turning to notice the entrance of the three. Those that did only flicked an ear before turning their attention away again. “Set her down there, Terri,” the farmer said, gesturing to a patch of dirt a few feet away from the metal milk jug. Terri did as she was told, laying Ria down onto the ground, planting a paw onto the vaporeon to make sure she wouldn’t make any attempt to run off. As if she’d be able to do that with the lead weight around her middle, anyway. Meanwhile, the woman had walked around the whole arrangement of milking machinery over to the far side of the barn, out of Ria’s sight. She could hear rustling, shifting, clanking, like someone digging through a bin—all coming to a stop alongside a triumphant [i]a-ha[/i] from the farmer. She reappeared from around the side of the milking machine shortly after. Draped over her left arm was a long length of straw rope. Held in her right hand was what looked very much like a muzzle, made out of black rubber. “Alright,” the farmer said, walking up next to Ria before dropping down to her knees, setting both the muzzle and the bundle of rope down next to her. Then, she dug a hand into a pocket on her overalls and drew out a pocket knife, flicking it open. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, now.” Oh, no. Ria did not like the sound of that, not with the sight of that knife glinting just a few scant feet above her. She let out a high keen and started thrashing and flailing, trying her hardest to wrench herself out from under Terri’s paw. The stoutland, of course, would have none of it. At the first sign of resistance, Terri dropped down low and pushed Ria’s body tightly against the ground with both paws, grabbing a hold of the vaporeon’s neck in her jaws for good measure. Ria tried struggling for a few moments more, but when those teeth dug into her skin in an unspoken threat, she went still with one last yipe. “Quit floppin’ around like I’m trynna gut you,” the woman said. Ria felt her grab a hold of her forelegs, first one and then the other, yanking them up over the vaporeon’s head. With her other hand, she looped the rope just under Ria’s paws once, twice, three times total, before tying it off with a quick knot. By the time she’d finished and was cutting the excess rope free with her pocket knife, Ria was only just registering what had happened—along with how scratchy the rope felt against her skin. She moved down to Ria’s lower half, looping the rope around the vaporeon’s legs to bind them to her tail. Ria considered reviving her struggles and trying to break free once again, but ultimately didn’t. After all, what would the point be? If she wasn’t able to fight her way to freedom before, she certainly wouldn’t be able to with her forelegs all bound up. By the time the farmer was finished, the only real movements Ria were capable of were curling up and rolling from side to side, both of which would be quite hindered by the weight of her own bloated stomach resting on top of her. “See?” the woman said, sitting up straight on her knees. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, the last bit. Terri!” The farmer gave some hand signal that Ria couldn’t see, and the stoutland released her grip on Ria’s neck in response. It was hardly much of a reprieve; half a second later, the farmer’s hand shot out and grabbed a hold of Ria’s face, turning her head to the side. Fingers pressed down on her cheeks to force her mouth open. There was no time to react. Ria hadn’t even thought to clamp her jaw shut before the farmer’s other hand sprang in to join the action, fitting the rubber muzzle over her snout. The moment it was in place, Ria realised the reason the farmer had made sure to open her mouth. There was a long plastic tube on the inside of the muzzle, which forced its way past her lips, between her teeth, and reached all the way to the back of her tongue. And with the click of two buckles behind her head, it was there to stay, strapped to her with no way to spit it out. Ria tried to bite through it, narrowing her eyes and letting out a growl as she tried to clench her jaw shut. The tube didn’t break, didn’t even bend, the plastic too thick and strong for any force she was capable of mustering. Though her efforts did stir the farmer to a hearty chuckle at Ria’s expense. “Don’t waste your energy, fishy. That tube’s poly-carbo-something or other, y’couldn’t break it if yer life depended on it.” The farmer grabbed something from the floor next to her. A long piece of rubber hose, just like the ones running from the cubicles. Ria had been so focused on the rope and muzzle that she hadn’t even noticed it. She certainly noticed it now that it was being screwed into the end of her muzzle. Once that was in place, the farmer grabbed the other end of it and stood up, walking away from Ria. The vaporeon craned her head back, keeping the woman in sight, heart pounding as she realised exactly what she was headed towards. She was screwing the hose into a connector on the milking machine, near the bottom of the jug. “Now the real fun starts,” the farmer said. “You wanted milk so bad? Well, careful what ya wish for.” She flipped a switch on the machine, and immediately, the sound of pumps and the hum of electronics filled the barn. It was joined shortly after by moos, moans, and huffs from the cubicles along the sides of the barn, some of the miltank caught off-guard by the sudden suction, others just happy they were finally getting milked. The tubes running all along the floor of the barn turned white as milk started rushing through them, all of it headed towards the metal jug in the centre. Once the sound of milk pattering against the bottom of the container joined the din, the final tube left empty started filling up with milk: the one leading to Ria’s muzzle. Ria could see it, but there was nothing that she could do to stop it. She let out a whine as she saw it making its way down the tube, but it was quickly drowned out into nothing once it hit her mouth. It was so much more milk than Ria had ever gotten from suckling at a miltank’s teat. This was the output of eight miltank combined, all being drawn out by the suction of a machine that was more powerful and consistent than anything Ria’s mouth could muster, with that same mechanical force being used to pump it all right into her mouth. The sheer size and pressure of the stream made Ria feel like she had a fire hose lodged in her mouth. She didn’t even have to try to swallow; the muzzle kept her mouth sealed tight around the tube, meaning the only place for it to go was inside her, forcing its way right past whatever resistance her throat could put up. Ria wasn’t even able to cry out in protest. The pressurized stream of milk made sure of that. All she could do was lie there and let it pour directly into her stomach. It was still warm, too. She could feel all the heat of that freshly squeezed milk building up inside her. “Pressure’s a bit high, but I figured you could take it,” the farmer said, sitting down on the ground next to Ria to watch everything unfold. “Water type like you can take a hydro pump just as good as you can give one, right?” Ria couldn’t respond to that if she’d wanted to, but her body spoke for itself. Her belly was ballooning before their very eyes, swelling at an unprecedented rate, even by Ria’s standards. It was already big enough to force her legs wide, and it was only getting bigger. The farmer let out a breathy exhale, her expectations blown out of the water. She’d never expected it to be so [i]fast;[/i] her imaginings of what it’d be like paled in comparison to seeing it in action. She reached out and laid her hands on the vaporeon’s stomach, feeling it stretch and grow under her as she roamed across its surface. Which inevitably meant brushing across Ria’s teats in the process. She let out an involuntary shudder whenever the farmer’s fingers brushed against her nipples, and given Ria had six of them, that was more often than not. It didn’t take long for the farmer to pick up on it. “Oho, you like when I touch these, don’tcha?” The farmer planted her hands against two of Ria’s teats, one on either side, and pressed down on them, rolling the vaporeon’s nipples around under her palms. Ria twitched and tried to kick, but the ropes binding her legs to her tail nipped that in the bud. Tied up and pinned under her stomach’s own weight, there was nothing she could do to stop it. “Probably why you’ve been out here stealing milk,” the woman said, running her hands up and down the length of Ria’s belly, along each of her nipples—a length that only grew longer as the vaporeon’s middle continued to expand. “Wishin’ you were some sorta leaky cow yourself, I’d wager.” Ria wasn’t able to protest. Partially because of the muzzle, partially because the feeling of those hands massaging her teats ousted all the words from her mind, and partially because her attention was stolen by something entirely new happening. Even compared to other water types, vaporeon were strange. Everyone knew their affinity for the stuff. They could melt right into it, impossible to detect until they deigned to reform themselves. Ria had never learned that particular trick—if she had, it certainly would’ve helped her right then—but the potential was in her regardless. Lesser known was that the reverse was true. Rather than dissolving into water, they could soak it up. Or if not water, whatever liquid they happened to find. And, unlike liquefying, that behaviour was instinctual, happy to assert itself without any prior knowledge or skill. All that was required was a very particular set of circumstances. Like the ones Ria was in then. It seemed that her body, having decided that her belly had reached its limit, was shifting some of the milk being pumped into her into new, different places. Her thighs and rear swelled to proportions that made her earlier chubby proportions look downright slender by comparison, the milk integrating perfectly into her form and turning into great mounds of soft, plush vaporeon fat. Her rear went from callipygian, to matronly, to outright obese in a matter of seconds. Her tail wasn’t shorted, either, growing thick and plump as milk was diverted into it until it was no longer the slender swimmer’s aid that it’d been before, but something so packed with fat that it gave her more of a resemblance to a wailord just by its presence. Her arms were turned into more milk storage at just the same time, fattening up to the same size as her legs. Last was her face, neck suddenly growing rolls and her cheeks puffing out as Ria’s body sought any place to store all the thick, rich cream being pumped into it by that muzzle. That was the last touch necessary to complete Ria’s transformation into a soft, round butterball of a vaporeon, putting the slight layer of chub she’d worn earlier to shame. Ria’s mind was spinning in a mixture of shock and horror. Realisations about the situation came trickling into her mind one at a time: one, that her sudden growth had been enough to snap the ropes binding her limbs—and two, that she was now so egregiously overweight that she could do nothing with her newfound freedom but lie there. And three, that although the shift had shrunk her belly slightly and bought her time, the machine was continuing to pump warm milk into her muzzle at the same uncompromising rate. If she didn’t stop it, Ria was going to be forced to gorge until her belly distended to the same absurd size as before. What would her body do then? Ria kicked and wriggled her limbs as best she could, trying to do something—she wasn’t entirely sure what—but even without the ropes, all the fat clinging to her and weighing her down kept her range of motion at an ineffectual minimum. All the display succeeded in doing was making her look ridiculous. The farmer didn’t laugh, though. She’d been kneeling beside Ria’s body, mouth hanging open in astonishment, silent aside from the steadily increasing volume of her heavy breathing. She’d gone into things with certain expectations, knowing that a water type would be able to handle the full force of one of her biggest fantasies, but she’d been unaware of the unique traits a vaporeon’s physiology offered. What she was seeing then was beyond anything she could’ve imagined. The woman laid her hands back on Ria’s body, feeling the thickness of her tail, her hinds, her thighs, all of it covered in thick layers of soft blubber. It was like a dream, but the feeling of it, of her fingers sinking right into that squishy flesh, it was impossible for it to be anything but real. Even if the size of that belly felt downright fantastical. Her heart pounded faster at just the sight of it, groaning, gurgling, and swelling as the vaporeon was forced to swallow endless quantities of milk. Her hands roamed across its surface, touching, petting, squeezing. It was so much softer now, after so much of the milk inside had metabolized into fat. If Ria kept drinking, would it happen again? “You keep drinkin’, now,” the farmer said, muttering the words more to herself than anyone else. “Get all nice and soft for momma.” Ria didn’t have much choice. The milk kept flowing, her stomach kept swelling, and the farmer’s hands never left her belly for a moment. Always stroking and rubbing along its ever-expanding surface, drawing twitches and shivers whenever she accidentally glanced against one of the vaporeon’s teats. Or, more frequently, when she purposely targeted them, grinding her palms against them and squeezing the nipples with her fingers. Time slipped away from Ria for awhile. It was difficult for her to mark its passage, when all she had to go on was an endless barrage of milk and the feeling of hands roaming across her ever expanding belly in a constant massage. Her mind picked back up when something finally broke up the monotony: a wave of tingling like some strange frisson running up her spine, accompanied by a gasp from the farmer, her hands ceasing to rub Ria’s belly and instead stopping dead in their tracks. The thought of something being serious enough to give the farmer pause gave Ria a feeling of unmatched dread. She craned her head to look up, a herculean task with how much weight she’d put on. What she saw made Ria wish she hadn’t even put in the effort. No longer was her skin its familiar blue colour. A wave of white was spreading out from her bloated stomach, eggshell white—or maybe cream. Whatever the tone, it was flooding out over the rest of her body like it was being poured into her, subsuming all of her previous colouration as it went. It was so quick that Ria only got to see it spread for a few seconds before it had consumed everything in eyeshot, though she could feel a slight tingle run through her body as it reached her head. The sensation was familiar to Ria: it was the feeling of aura at work, the base energy that ran through all pokémon, all living things. More importantly, it was the feeling of an aura that wasn’t her own, and she had a good idea of why that was. She was full to bursting with milk, fresh from another pokémon, one with an aura of its own. Only trace amounts of it were present in the milk, but considering how much of it she’d drunk, those traces must’ve built up enough to send her body into a... conflict of interest. A glance at a part of her body besides her enormous belly confirmed that thought. She looked at her arm, and saw it didn’t share the creamy colour her belly had taken on. Rather, it was a light pink hue, exactly the same as the miltank it had come from. That ought to have been the end of it. A new paint job on top of all the fat she’d put on would’ve been more than enough changes for Ria to deal with. Unfortunately, she was not so lucky. That tingling she felt was only growing stronger, concentrated in her belly, where the milk responsible for it all was churning inside her. It grew and grew until it was impossible to withstand, the palpable conflict of her body reeling against the surplus of foreign aura being forced into it, too much to tolerate. Eventually, something had to give, and with that foreign presence only growing stronger with every drop of milk forced down her throat, it was clear what it was going to be. Like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point, that tingling gave way all at once to a feeling of pressure spilling out from Ria’s belly. But it wasn’t the pressure of her stomach stretching as it flooded with milk, something that she’d become intimately familiar with. Rather, it was the pressure of something pushing its way [i]out[/i] of her. It lasted all of three or four seconds, and once it was done, there was no more tingling, nothing left but a sense of confusion as Ria tried to figure out what had happened—what she’d [i]grown[/i]. It wasn’t more fat, that much she could tell; too much heft, not enough jiggle. Beyond that, though, she was at a loss. It was hard to tell what a body part was by feel when you had no experience in feeling it, no acquired kinaesthesia. But it became easier when the farmer’s hands reached out to start feeling at that new part, fresh nerves lighting up and filling out its contours in Ria’s mind. It was a great, round mass, merging seamlessly with and rivalling the mass of her belly. Considering just how big her belly had swollen from all the milk, that was a remarkable achievement. Yet Ria was less concerned with its size and more how staggeringly sensitive it was. Even the farmer’s gentle stroking was enough to make Ria quake and jerk like a puppet on strings. Every part of her body lit up with the same feeling as when the farmer had been groping at her teats, times a thousandfold. As the woman’s hands continued to roam across the newest addition to her body and she convulsed in the sensations it brought, Ria started to form an idea of why those feelings were as similar as they were. Particularly when she felt fingers brush against new, protruding parts of her body. Four of them. The farmer grabbed a hold of two, the uppermost pair, squeezing and tugging at them. It was enough to make Ria’s breath hitch in her throat before it tore its way back out as a scream, muffled into bubbling nonsense by the muzzle and its non-stop stream of milk. They were nipples, far unlike the ones vaporeon naturally had. These were big, long, thick. A set of teats that would look right at home on a miltank. Which would make the growth they were attached to an udder to match. The farmer started to laugh, and shockingly enough, there wasn’t a hint of mocking or malice in her voice. It sounded more surprised, excited, with an undercurrent of something else, if the quick, shallow breaths that underlaid it were anything to go by. “Ahah, I didn’t know that you could, uh. Hm.” Her words trailed off into another set of breathy giggles as she continued to grope at Ria’s udder, wringing and squeezing her upper set of teats. What happened next was accompanied by an unrestrained squeal of delight from the farmer. Ria felt some sort of tension release inside of her, one that she only recognized by it being relaxed by the farmer’s groping hands. She felt something squirting out of teats, wet beading and dribbling down the ends of her nipples. Ria was being milked. Funny as hell, it was the most horrible thing she could think of. As soon as the first drops of milk made themselves known, the farmer doubled down on her efforts. No longer was she just exploring the vaporeon’s body and seeing the way she reacted to it, now she had a mission, a purpose behind her ministrations. She had a hand wrapped around either of Ria’s upper teats, grabbing and squeezing down with a level of practice that complemented her eagerness, trying to wring out every bit of milk that she could. Having never lactated before, Ria wouldn’t have expected to produce much, if she was in the mindset to consider such things. Those hypothetical expectations were rapidly blown out of the water. As soon as the first dribble of milk reared its head, it didn’t take long for it to grow into a steady stream, then into thick jets of milk that shot out and splattered the front of the farmer’s overalls. That was the point at which Terri stopped her milking, her face burning with a deep blush. She didn’t pay her soaked clothes the slightest heed, instead turning her head over her shoulder and barking out a few words. “Terri, come!” Ria had forgotten the stoutland was even there until she came padding over from the side, settling into position next to its owner, her face close enough to Ria’s belly that she could feel the hound’s hot breath washing over her udder. The farmer smiled at her pokémon, reaching over to give her a pat and ruffle the fur between the ears. Then, she turned her focus back to Ria, hunching down and pushing her face up against the vaporeon’s udder. “Now that you’re lactating,” the farmer said, the breath of every word washing over the sensitive skin of Ria’s udder, “you can start paying back every drop of milk you stole.” She grabbed the teat that she’d been milking earlier between her lips, squeezing it in a whole different way as she suckled on it like a regular born calf. Following her example, Terri did the same, latching onto the other teat that the farmer had been squeezing. Ria kicked and thrashed, struggles renewed in the face of the prospect of being made into a dairy cow. Or rather, being made to fulfill the duties of one; there wasn’t much she could do about having already grown a set of udders to put a miltank to shame. But it was hopeless: in her state, there was no way she’d be able to muster enough force to stop the two crowded up against her udder. Worse still, it was hard to tell if she even wanted to; the feeling of warm mouths wrapped around her teats, firmly sucking to drain the milk from her udder, was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Ria had thought drinking milk was satisfying, but even the loftiest heights of that didn’t hold a candle to the sensation of being drunk [i]from.[/i] She couldn’t stop shaking. The few shreds of focus she had were too divided between being milked and gulping down the milk still pouring down her throat to draw up the strength needed to try breaking free again—as if any attempt at that would succeed anyway. So Ria just laid there, feeling her belly once again bloating with milk even as her [i]own[/i] milk was drained off, already feeling more changes bubbling up inside her as the residual aura in the milk again became too much for her body to bear. --- Liam walked along the side of some county road that he’d never been down in his life. In his hand was a leash, attached to the collar of a slurpuff doddering along in front of him at about knee height, head canted up as it sniffed loudly at the air. He felt ridiculous following the lead of something so small, pink, and ridiculous looking, but it really was the only option he had. He needed to find Ria, and by some fluke of nature, no pokémon could hold a candle to a slurpuff’s sense of smell. They were ideal for tracking down a scent, and that was all Liam had to go off of. With any luck, it would be good enough at its job that he wouldn’t need to pay for another day’s rent on its services. As ridiculous as it looked, the slurpuff was a bred and trained scent hound, and its trainer hadn’t let it go cheap. Liam’s hopes seemed to be fulfilled when the slurpuff suddenly stopped, rotated a full 360 degrees while sniffing wildly at the air, then made a sharp right turn into a nearby driveway. A gravel driveway leading up to a farm, one with a number of miltank puttering around in a wide, fenced off plain next to it. His frown intensified. Perhaps the slurpuff wasn’t as good at his job as he’d thought. Liam couldn’t imagine why his vaporeon would’ve chosen to hole up in a dairy farm of all places, particularly when there was a perfectly good river right next to it. Still, he decided to at least go up and ask the owner if they’d seen anything before completely dismissing the slurpuff’s abilities. Liam took the lead and dragged the slurpuff along behind himself, walking up the long driveway while looking over all the buildings and trying to figure out which one would be the one he ought to go to. There was a house, a barn, sheds—maybe he could just shout and see if the farmer came out? Thankfully, he didn’t need to worry about it. By the time he reached the gate at the end of the driveway, right on the entrance to the farm proper, the farmer had noticed his approach and was already walking over from the barn to meet him. A stoutland followed her, taking up a spot beside her and fixing Liam with a wary eye. The farmer leaned on the front of the gate, giving Liam’s slurpuff a curious glance before looking him in the eye, giving him a friendly smile. “Howdy, stranger. What can I do ya for?” “Yeah, hi. I’m looking for my lost pokémon, a vaporeon. This guy,” Liam hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the slurpuff, “seems to think she’s around here. Have you seen her?” She stiffened at the word ‘vaporeon’, eyes going wide and fingers tightening around the bars of the gate. It took a moment before she replied. “A vaporeon? Those are, uh, mighty rare around these parts. And it’s female, you said?” Liam was starting to get unnerved, himself. “Yes, that’s right, a female vaporeon. You know something?” The farmer sucked in a breath through her teeth, then released it in a sigh. “Hoo, boy. I think you’d better come inside.” --- “In here,” the farmer said, pushing open the door of the barn. “Right at the end, there.” Liam walked in, glancing over the stalls as he made his way towards the far side of the barn. They were mostly empty, though a couple of them were occupied by miltank, resting or dozing while they waited for their next milking. Miltank were chubby things as a rule, but the one at the end took it to new heights; Liam doubted if it could leave the stall under its own power, or if it could even fit through the door without removing it entirely. Or at least, Liam had assumed it was a miltank. A quick glance did lend itself to that conclusion. It had the right colours, a creamy belly with four jutting pink nipples, matching the pink of the rest of its body. It even had the black pattern and two nubby white horns atop its head. As he looked closer, though, it quickly became obvious that what he was looking at [i]wasn’t[/i] a miltank. Miltank were supposed to have hooves, not paws. They certainly weren’t supposed to have fins or thick, fishy tails. Liam stood there, frozen to the spot, jaw agape as he stared at the big blob of a vaporeon inside of the stall and the enormous udder spilling out from its belly, nipples jutting out and dribbling milk. Sensing his presence, it raised its head to look up at him—and let out a moo. The farmer walked up next to him, scratching the back of her head. “Uh, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a trade? A miltank, or a lifetime supply of milk, if that strikes yer fancy. I’ll give ya the vaporeon back if y’like, but I... don’t think she wants t’go anywhere.” The stoutland left the farmer’s side and trotted up to Ria, latching onto one of the vaporeon’s teats and suckling milk from it before Liam’s very eyes. She let her head drop down with a moo of pleasure, one nipple spurting milk into the stoutland’s mouth while the other three dribbled in sympathy.