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Shane wakes up to a feeling of nausea gripping his stomach, and hauls himself off the bed and towards the bathroom.
He grips the bowl clumsily as he heaves, but nothing seems to be coming up. He spits some of the excess saliva into the bowl and sits back against the wall behind him. That was weird, he thinks. He didn't eat anything strange last night for dinner. Just his usual salmon and rice.
He lets his hand settle on his upset stomach. He immediately jerks it away as the touch sends a jolt of electricity through Shane's lower body.
Now that he's not focused on emptying his stomach, he notices that his abdomen is incredibly distended beneath his underwear. He's surprised to have only noticed it now. He looks like he could be pregnant. Shit, is he having some kind of allergic reaction? Is this some sort of swelling?
He carefully slips the waistband of his underwear lower, revealing a large pink mass and what seems like four large tubes.
Shane's breath is shaky as he stares down at his body. Something is wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
If Shane didn't know any better, he would guess he was looking at a pair of cow udders.
But there's no way that's what was happening, right? That was impossible. Why would he have udders? Was he drugged? Was he still dreaming? His breathing starts coming faster and faster as he looks at the four teats protruding from him.
It's at that moment that his husband walks through the doorway, woken up from the commotion.
“Shane? Is everything–” Ilya starts, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but he freezes and stares down at Shane on the floor.
Shane shakes his head frantically, covering his eyes with his hands.
“I– I don't know what's– Ilya, I’m–” he stutters. He doesn't even know what to say.
“Oh, solnyshko,” Ilya whispers, crouching down to the floor beside Shane. “What has happened to you?”
Shane swallows. “I just woke up like this. I have no idea…” he trails off, looking desperately at his husband.
Ilya hums, and starts tugging Shane's underwear down further. He pulls them down his legs until he's tossing them to the side. Shane sits there, completely naked, as Ilya's eyes roam across his body.
“You're dick is still here. Good. I was worried it might disappear when the udders came in,” Ilya says.
Shane's world tilts sideways.
“Wh– what?” he says, dumbly.
Ilya looks up into his eyes, and Shane sees a hunger there he doesn't think he's ever noticed before.
“I didn't want it to disappear. You always get so wet for me, Hollander.”
Shane's brain is still trying to right itself. His voice comes out strained and shaky. “You… Ilya, did you do this?”
Ilya starts running a hand down Shane's torso, starting at his pecs and slowly moving down until they reach the start of the new, pink flesh. He takes one of the teats in his hand, and Shane feels his body jerk involuntarily into the grasp.
“Ilya,” he grinds out, trying to be forceful, but his heart is beating erratically at the touch.
“I just thought you would look so pretty. And I was right.” The corner of his mouth twists up as he fondles Shane's udder with his fingers. “You're my beautiful cow, aren't you?”
Shane can't help the small moan that escapes his lips, but he manages to rip Ilya's grip off of him and push himself back into the wall where he had slipped down at the arousal building within him.
“Rozanov, what the fuck? What did you fucking do?” he growls, trying to pull up his knees to his chest, but his large udders are making it difficult.
Ilya shakes his head. “Don't worry so much, Hollander. Is not permanent.” He reaches out and settles a hand on Shane's knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb. “I know you will like it.”
Shane scoffs. “I've got fucking udders. I'm not a fucking cow! This is insane!”
He clumsily stands up and feels the heavy pull of his udders on his stomach. With horror, he realizes exactly why they're so distended and heavy.
“Ilya, is there fucking milk in me?” he whispers.
Ilya rises from his crouch, settling his hands on either side of Shane's hips as he looks down.
“Of course. What else would be in cow udders?” Ilya says, like Shane is stupid for even asking the question.
Shane wants to protest. He wants to scream at Ilya for doing this to him, but his husband is maneuvering him out of the bathroom and gently pushing him onto the bed.
“Ah, there we go. So beautiful, Shane,” Ilya says as he looks down at Shane, who is propped up on his elbows, udder on full display. He feels a twitch from his dick, and hates that he's still turned on in this situation.
“Ilya…” he tries again, but his fight continues to fade as Ilya drops his underwear to the floor and climbs onto the bed, looking transfixed by Shane's new body parts.
“Such a good cow. Waiting and ready to be milked, yes? You must be so full.” He pushes down gently on Shane's udder and Shane arches into the touch, moaning roughly.
“Holy shit,” he breathes.
“See?” Ilya smirks. “I knew you would like.”
“Fuck you,” Shane retorts, but it sounds far less angry than he wants.
Ilya bends down and places a feather light kiss on one of the teats, and Shane's mouth opens and closes rapidly. He can barely think as he watches Ilya wrap both hands around two of them, and then he pulls.
A wild, animalistic sound rips from Shane's throat as milk squirts out from the two nipples. He's horrified to realize that it wasn't just him screaming in pleasure, but was in fact, a cow's moo.
He slaps a hand over his mouth, looking at Ilya with wide eyes.
Ilya just has a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Did you just–”
“No!”
“I think you did, Hollander. I think you just mooed.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he says, trying to shove at Ilya with his foot. Ilya just bats it away.
“Did it feel good? Being milked, little cow?”
Shane shakes his head, but he doesn’t verbally deny it. He still can't believe this is happening. He has cow udders, full of milk, and he can apparently moo. This is fucking crazy. It's insane. And he's incredibly hard right now.
“I don't hear any complaints,” Ilya teases, and pulls his focus back onto Shane's teats. He flicks the end of one, and Shane groans.
“You're so full, though, malysh. Maybe I should go get a bucket?”
God, the thought of it - Shane being milked, the white fluid filling up an entire bucket as Ilya's hands wring him dry - makes a small moo come out of him.
“Oh, you like that idea?” Ilya asks, coming up to kiss Shane roughly on the mouth. “You want to be treated like farm animal, yes?”
“No,” Shane gasps between kisses, but he can tell he doesn't mean it. He knows Ilya can feel it, too.
Ilya pulls back after a moment, a string of spit connecting them until he's far enough away that it breaks. He crawls back to Shane's legs and starts gently caressing the udders.
“I think I have a better idea,” Ilya simply says, before dipping down and taking a teat into his mouth. Shane gasps into the touch, lifting his hands to fist his fingers into the curls on Ilya's head.
He's not prepared when Ilya starts sucking, pulling at the base of the teat with his hand and suctioning the milk right into his mouth. Shane moos and moos, and he feels his humanity slipping away ever so slightly.
He's no longer a human, a husband, a hockey player. He's just a cow, being milked by his owner. And it feels so, so good.
Ilya slips off the teat, grinning up at Shane as milk dribbles down his chin. Shane just lays against the pillows, feeling like he's floating out of his body.
Ilya must notice the dazed look in his eyes. “Ah, it is affecting your brain now, isn't it? You are just a cow now. My perfect milking cow. Isn't that right?”
Shane moos with a nod. He doesn't even know if he could say English words anymore. He should be more worried about that, he thinks, but the worry seems so far away.
“So perfect, just for me.” He licks at the tip of the udder he was suckling from, and Shane jerks under him.
Suddenly, Shane feels a strange feeling at his lower back. He sits up a bit, and Ilya backs off with an eyebrow lifted.
“Shane?” he asks, and Shane shakes his head. He doesn't think something's wrong. He just feels a pressure at the base of his tailbone.
Wait.
He moos frantically, trying to relay his thoughts to Ilya, but of course he doesn't understand. Fuck, he really can't talk anymore, can he?
He shifts positions so that he's on his hands and knees, facing the headboard. He's breathing heavily, and he hears Ilya gasp as the pressure builds.
“Oh, Shane,” Ilya says, and Shane can feel his new tail protruding from his tailbone. He looks behind him and sees the small, fleshy appendage sticking out. He lets out a loud moo as he drops his head beneath his shoulders, breathing through the pain as he feels the tail elongate.
“You're doing so good, lyubimyy,” Ilya soothes, running a hand down Shane's back.
Shane just moos again, shaking on all fours from exertion. Finally, the pain and pressure subsides, and Shane turns his head to see a cow tail coming out of his ass, a tuft of black fur on the end and everything.
Shane gapes at the tail, and at Ilya. He maneuvers himself so he's sitting facing his husband, gripping his tail and holding it in front of him to stare at the offending body part.
“God, Shane,” Ilya says, and he looks enamoured.
Shane glowers at him and shakes his hand angrily, the tail whipping about. He tries to say something like fuck you, asshole, but all that comes out is a short little moo.
Ilya laughs. He caresses Shane's face gently, leaning in for a quick kiss. Shane can feel his eyebrows un-furrowing.
“You make such a cute little cow. Look at this perfect little tail,” Ilya coos, taking the tail from Shane's grasp. He tugs gently, which earns him another disapproving moo. Shane yanks it out of Ilya's hand and lets it settle back behind him.
Okay, so he's got a tail now. Great. Another thing to freak out about later, probably.
Ilya looks at Shane for a moment, and he suddenly feels like a piece of meat under the other man's gaze. Ilya pushes him down and crawls on top of him until he reaches his ear, pats his side, and whispers, “Turn over.”
Shane feels his dick throb as he obeys the command, flipping over so he's laying on his stomach. His cock and full udders push into the mattress under him, and the pressure makes him squirm as he moos involuntarily.
“So full, yes? So full of milk.” A hand presses Shane further into the mattress. He groans. “And your cock is begging to be touched. But I want to fuck you. Watch this perfect little tail wag as you take me, da?
Shane nods frantically into the bedding.
“Will you open up for me, korova?”
Shane doesn't get a chance to answer before a finger is entering him, and he moos loudly. He can feel his tail whipping around with the stimulation.
Ilya chuckles, and after a few moments, inserts another finger.
“So good for me, Shane. You're such a good boy.”
Shane can't help but smile giddily. He's glad his face is hidden.
After loosening him up with another finger, Ilya pulls his hand away and kisses the back of Shane's neck.
“Ready, little cow?”
Shane nods with a moo, and then he feels the pressure of Ilya entering him, and he feels his mind slip away again. Any normal thoughts are gone. Only Ilya's cock, stretching him, filling him up, is what he's aware of.
“Fuck, Shane,” he faintly hears Ilya growl out.
Ilya starts moving, thrusting into Shane, and the pressure on his udders is excruciating. He feels like he's going to burst. The weight is pressing into his throbbing cock, too. His moos are so feral and loud, he truly just feels like an animal getting fucked.
He feels Ilya grip his tail tightly and pulls. Shane chokes on his cries, pressing his head into the mattress like he can get away from overwhelming feelings coursing through his body. This feels so good. It feels so fucking good.
Soon, Shane feels Ilya's thrusts start to get frantic, and he knows his husband is close. He pushes his ass back, trying anything to get closer to Ilya. His cock is throbbing between him and the bed. He feels that tidal wave of pleasure start building inside him, and Ilya is calling out his name, voice wrecked, and he's thrusting so deep into Shane, and it's all too much as the wave crashes down.
Shane comes without any noise at all, mouth open in a silent scream as his whole body lights up. He feels Ilya follow him off the edge soon after, feels the pressure inside him as Ilya comes.
Shane is panting, small little moos escaping his lips as he comes down from his orgasm.
He feels Ilya pull out and kiss his way up Shane's back, until he's pressing his lips right behind his ear.
Shane turns his head to look at his husband. Ilya smiles and presses a kiss to his lips, before settling down next to him. He gently brushes the hair away from Shane's forehead, and Shane's eyes flutter shut as Ilya continues to pet his head.
“So good, Shane,” Ilya whispers, and Shane moos quietly, relishing in the way Ilya's hand strokes through his hair.
Soon, the stickiness underneath him starts to bother Shane, and Ilya knows it too.
“My poor little korova is all dirty, isn't he?” Ilya asks, and Shane nods.
“Okay. Let's get you clean.”
He pats Shane's side, slipping off the bed. Shane lets out a small whine, but follows him to the bathroom. He does feel a little gross, cum smeared across his udders and Ilya's dripping from his hole.
Ilya does all the work, maneuvering them into the shower and soaping Shane up. It's a little more squished with Shane's udders between them, but they get clean.
They step out and Ilya begins drying Shane with a towel. As he descends to dry Shane's udders, the slight pressure is enough to make Shane's knees wobble.
“Ah, you are still so full, yes?” Ilya asks, looking up at him from where he's crouched.
Shane pouts and nods. You barely even milked me, Shane wants to say.
“Mooo,” is all that comes out.
Ilya stands, and gives him a quick peck. Shane can't resist trying to follow his lips for more. Ilya smirks, and gently runs a knuckle down Shane's cheek.
“Well, then. I guess we have to milk you properly, don't we?” Ilya says.
Shane's eyes widen.
Ilya pats his face, a little roughly, and says, “Go meet me in the gym. I will get dressed and meet you there.”
Shane nods and stumbles out of the bathroom on shaky legs. His udders swing with each step, the milk sloshing inside. God, he feels so fucking full. He hastily makes his way to their home gym and goes to sit on one of the benches when his reflection stops him in his tracks.
He was able to avoid looking in the small bathroom mirror when they went to shower, but the wall of mirrors they have installed in the gym is too much to ignore.
He looks… impossible. The udders are so obscene, his teats erect as they beg to be squeezed. His tail swishes behind him.
It's as if his body knows he's taking stock of what has changed, because suddenly he feels a familiar pain gripping his head. It felt like it did when his tail was coming in, except it's wrapped around the middle of his skull.
He gasps out a moo as he drops to his knees, looking up into the mirror. His face is contorted with pain, but he continues to stare as he begins to pant from the strain.
His ears start to feel incredibly hot, and he watches in horror as they begin to elongate. They get larger as they push out, and Shane can feel them burn with itchiness as they start to grow a small layer of black fur.
It doesn't take as long as the tail had taken, and soon the pain is receding. Shane sits back on his heels as he just stares at his reflection, watching his cow ears flick and twitch.
Fuck. He's really turning into a cow, isn't he? How fucking far is this going to go?
“Shane?” he hears Ilya call, and watches as he steps into the room.
His husband is now fully dressed, in black sweatpants and a tank top. He's got a bucket in his hand, one Shane recognizes from the garage. His eyes catch on Shane's new ears, and he grins so wide it looks like it could split his face open.
He whispers a Russian expletive under his breath and drops the bucket, stumbling over to where Shane is seated, looking at him in awe.
Shane instinctively covers his ears, mooing at Ilya to try to chastise him. But Ilya immediately grabs his wrists and lowers his hands, allowing his ears to be visible.
“No, no. They are so fucking cute, Shane. Fuck,” Ilya says, and he looks so giddy that Shane doesn't put up any more resistance and lets their hands drop between them.
Shane nods towards the abandoned bucket with a moo, trying to urge Ilya.
“Ah, yes. You still need to be milked, don't you?”
He's still just staring at Shane, grinning wildly. Shane rolls his eyes, but he can't help the twitch of his lips as he pushes at Ilya's shoulder.
“Okay, okay. Pushy little cow,” Ilya mutters, but he still looks so delighted as he goes and grabs the bucket, bringing it over to a bench.
“Come,” Ilya orders, and Shane crawls across the floor over to the bench.
“Good boy,” he says as Shane sits at his feet. His udders sit heavily on the floor in front of him. Shane preens as Ilya pets his head.
Then Ilya moves away and Shane whines loudly.
Ilya tuts. “Relax. I am just grabbing something for your knees. I want you to be comfortable, lyubimyy.”
Shane pouts and moos snappily as he watches Ilya grab a small foam mat from some exercise equipment and set it down next to the bench.
“So impatient. Now, kneel here and put your arms up on the bench.”
Shane does as he's told, leaning onto the bench on his elbows. He feels the stretch of his udders hanging beneath him, and his dick gives a small twitch at the anticipation.
“Yes, perfect,” Ilya tells him. He crouches next to Shane and begins petting him again, letting his hand gently brush his ear. It flicks at the light touch, and Shane turns to look at Ilya.
“You are ready?” he asks.
Shane nods enthusiastically.
Ilya grins. “Okay.”
He positions the bucket under Shane, grips two of his teats, and begins pulling. Milk squirts loudly into the bucket, splashing up the walls. Shane lets out a wild moo, dropping his head to the bench.
The feeling is like nothing Shane's ever felt before. The rhythm in which Ilya is tugging on his teats compounds with his beating heart, and he feels like drums are being played inside of him.
His ears and tail are flicking wildly as Ilya keeps up his motions, the milk being pulled and pulled and pulled out of him. He feels the weight hanging under him lessen as it goes on.
He continues to gasp and moo, and his cock is already starting to get hard again. A small part of him feels shame at getting so aroused by this, but it's quickly buried beneath the pleasure he feels.
“Look at you. Such a good, strong cow. Giving me so much milk,” Ilya praises. Then, he removes a hand from one of the teats and strokes Shane's hard cock instead.
“MOOO,” Shane cries as his hips buck forward.
“Mm, so sensitive. You want me to milk this, too? You need to come again?”
Yes, please! Fuck, Rozanov, please let me come. I– I need to come, I need to be milked. Please, fuck, please milk me, Shane thinks.
Cow's cries echo around the gym.
“Not yet. First we have to finish our work. Bucket is almost full.”
Shane whines into his elbow, but allows Ilya to continue pulling the milk from his udder.
Finally, when the bucket is full and only sad, little drops are being pulled from Shane, Ilya retracts his hands from the teats.
“Great job, solnyshko,” Ilya whispers, kissing the back of his neck as he takes the bucket and leaves the room.
Shane pants into the bench until Ilya returns, then sits back on his heels again. His udder is no longer this massive thing between his legs, but his erection is still pressing up into the flesh where it sits underneath.
“You did so well, Shane,” Ilya says, stepping up to where the cow sits. He puts a finger under Shane's chin and tilts his head up, so they're looking into each other's eyes. Shane moos and attempts to give Ilya his most pleading look. He can't beg with words, but he can look the part.
“Yes, you deserve your reward,” Ilya agrees, petting Shane gently. Shane closes his eyes, but blinks them open when Ilya suddenly moves away.
He walks over where there are mats on the floor for Shane to do his yoga. Ilya points to his feet, and doesn’t have to utter a word before Shane is crawling to him.
“Good. On your back, here.”
Shane obeys.
He lays down, belly up to his husband who towers over him. He's leaning slightly towards Ilya so that his tail isn't directly under him. It thumps eagerly against the mat.
His cock presses up against the skin of his udder, which mostly just sags now that the milk is gone. He's already leaking, the head glistening with precum.
“Fuck,” Ilya says, looking down at Shane with wide eyes. He covers his mouth with a hand, like he's afraid of what will spill out of him if he removes it.
Shane moos, trying to convey so many things to his husband.
Please touch me. Please make me come. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Ilya must hear something in his cry, because he drops to the ground and begins to touch Shane all over. Petting his head, his ears, grabbing at his pecs. He presses kisses as he goes, to Shane's forehead and lips and collarbone. Then he travels down, running his hands along the smooth planes of Shane's abs.
He kisses and touches until he gets to Shane's dick, waiting and ready.
“Okay?” Ilya asks, and Shane almost hits him upside the head. He wants nothing more than for Ilya to touch his cock.
“Moo,” he moans. Please.
“I need a yes, Hollander,” Ilya smirks, and Shane presses his lips together and glares up at the ceiling.
“What, you can't speak?” Ilya teases, and draws a finger up the shaft of his cock.
Shane whines and leans into the touch, but Ilya pulls his hand away.
“Is that what you want?” Ilya asks, and Shane looks back to him and nods ferociously. But Ilya just laughs.
“Those are not words, Shane.”
Angry moos punch out of him as he tries to shimmy closer to Ilya. He can't fucking say yes like this and Ilya knows it. He knows what Shane wants. Why can't he just give it to him?
“You are just a poor little cow who cannot speak, aren't you?” Ilya says, moving slowly around Shane.
Shane nods, and moos, and he feels tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Fuck, he's so hard. He needs to be touched so fucking bad.
“Poor korova,” Ilya drawls. But he crawls down so that he's positioned above Shane's crotch, and hope shoots through Shane's chest.
He moos and moos and moos, trying to tell Ilya to just hurry up already, please, please Ilya I need it, I–
A gasp is punched out of him as Ilya takes the head of Shane's cock into his mouth.
Finally.
Ilya sucks and licks, and Shane squirms beneath him. Soon, Ilya is sinking further down, taking more of Shane into his mouth. Shane's fingers are in Ilya's curls again as the other man bobs his head up and down, driving Shane's hips off the floor as he chases the pleasure.
Shane tries to warn Ilya with a couple frantic moos as he gets close, trying to shove him off, but Ilya stays glued to where he is, sucking him off until Shane is spilling down his throat with a cry.
Shane lets his head hit the mat and stares up at the gym ceiling, breathing heavily. Ilya gives his stomach a playful smack as he crawls up to Shane's face and kisses him hungrily.
Shane can taste himself on Ilya's lips, but he deepens the kiss, licking desperately into his husband's mouth.
When they break apart for some air, Shane sees the tent in Ilya's pants as the other man leans back on his elbow. Shane raises an eyebrow.
Ilya looks down and shakes his head.
“Ah, no. Is okay.” He runs a hand down the back of Shane's head, caressing his neck. “I have gotten more than enough from you today. You were so good for me, Shane.”
Shane moos happily, letting Ilya run his hand over his hair and ear and neck. His eyes fall closed.
They won't stay there long, Shane knows. Even with the mats, the floor isn't very comfortable. But he allows himself to relish in the way he feels like he's floating, his husband's roaming fingers causing shivers to crawl down his spine. He's been thoroughly fucked, and milked, and he's never been happier.
He's still going to chew Ilya out once he can speak again.
A fucking cow. Really?