Winter Is Coming

By Multibreast

"Winter is coming?" He said with the sound of dread in his voice.

"Well of course she is coming." I said with a smile. "You really think that my mother wouldn't come to her only daughter's bridal shower?"

"Moo!" I heard Joan exclaim from the other side of the room.

"Sorry," I said as I held my upper right hand up in apology to Joan. "I meant her only natural daughter. Nothing against my dear sister-in-law."

"Moo," Joan expressed her satisfaction with my apologies as we shared a smile. Michael just shook his head not understanding our weird sense of humor. I admittedly didn't quite understand my dear sister-in-law either. Joan often responded with a simple "moo" to many things. I don't know if it was an involuntary effect of her transformation or just something she did because she found it amusing. I suspected it was more of the latter. Nonetheless, Joan had an amazing ability to express an array of emotions with her simple "moos." So, I let her have her fun.

Joan was a sweet young girl and had become like the sister I'd never had. We had become friends soon after my brother had married her and she was even going to serve as one of my bridesmaids. But, what one had to learn about dear Joan was that she was in love with everything cow, more particularly, black and white dairy cows. She had tons of cow stuffed animals and cow beanie babies and cow magnets, and cow shot glasses and cow posters and cow t-shirts, and pretty much any other cow inspired souvenirs she could find. Whenever she visited Wisconsin dairy country, one of her favorite places to vacation, she would always come back with a suitcase full of cow-shaped souvenirs.

But, more importantly than that, one had to understand that Joan was a cow. I don't mean that in a disparaging way. After all, as I said, we are close friends, like sisters in fact. But, I mean that in a most literal way. Well, I suppose literally it would be more accurate to say that Joan was part cow. Ever since she had swallowed that red pill procured by mother, she had been part bovine.

I suppose that sounds unusual for anyone not familiar with the family of Winter, my mother. Her and those damn pills have made us quite the unusual extended family. But, I love dear ol' mom, which is why I found Michael's question so strange. "You really thought that she wouldn't be here, honey?"

"No, no," Michael continued with some difficulty. "I just... I don't think that your mother likes me too much is all." Michael was finally able to say.

"Mother has always been very protective of me, especially when it comes to the men in my life." I said to Michael reassuringly. But seeing that Michael was still not convinced, I added. "Ever since my parents divorced." Still seeing Michael was unconvinced, I also added. "Not to mention her own father abandoned her when she was little." Michael seemed to accept the logic of my words even if not reassured about my mother's intentions.

It was true that mother had never expressed much affection for Michael, but then, she had never expressed any affection for any of my boyfriends. Even nice boys would end up hurting you in the end. At least that's what mom preached on her pulpit made up of divorce and shattered romances. Then, of course there was my relationship with Mark. I had loved him. I had thought he was the One. Even after the abuse turned physical, I still couldn't leave him. Even telling the judge that Mark was a great guy, and that he just needed counseling, begging for him to be released from jail and offering to pay for his counseling myself, standing there in court with a fresh black eye courtesy of Mark himself. And stand by him I did, despite more arrests and more bruises and more of mother telling me each time that he hit me: "I told you so." It wasn't until he ended up breaking my lower left arm that I was finally able to leave him. And even then, hell, even now, I still have a small place in my heart that still loves him.

I was not like mother. I couldn't turn on and off my feelings as easily as she could. Her with her no-contest divorce from father. How could one not contest that? How do you just let someone go that you have cared about so much for so long?

But Michael was different that Mark. Not just in the respect that he had never laid one violent finger on me the whole time we had been dating. But he had a whole different attitude toward me. I wasn't his property that he could show off or abuse as he saw fit. Nor was I a curiosity that he simply wanted to explore as so many guys wanted to do with my unusual form.

Oh, I had plenty of guys that were only interested in the "freaksex." And lord knows I had to endure several of their false proclamations of love before discovering it. Michael was different. We loved each other. It was a love that I had thought I could never feel again after I was forced to leave Mark.

Nonetheless, mother was not going to be open and welcoming to any of my lovers. Not before, and certainly not after the experience with Mark. At least Michael didn't have the tattoos all over his arms like Mark did, something that mother always hated about him even before he started to become violent. She was certainly relieved that I never got tattooed sleeves on all four of my arms, something which I always threatened to do while dating Mark, though I'm not sure if it was ever a true desire of mine or just something to annoy mother. Still, I found it odd at times that mother could be so opposed to me getting a little ink on the flesh when she had transformed herself so much more drastically over the years from what she had been initially. I look at those old photographs of her as a teenager and can barely believe it is the same person. Her long flowing hair is the same, and the look in her eyes, though a bit sadder in expression back then. Yet, seeing mom with only two legs, and two arms, and two breasts, seemed so foreign to the woman I have known and loved over the years.

I was excited by my bridal shower. So many gifts and so many of the wonderful women in my life all gathered to celebrate with me. I felt for Michael though. I could tell he was uncomfortable, being the only guy at this very girly event. Not to mention him still seeking the approval of my ever-suspicious mother.

Joan could see Michael's anxiety written on his face as well. She quietly walked over to him and placed her two left arms around him with a reassuring hug and told him confidently: "Moo."

Michael shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I don't know what that means, Joan!"

"Moo," Joan repeated, louder this time as she shot a smile my direction.

"You two are impossible!" Michael said as he shuffled off to the kitchen to make himself a drink before the rest of the ladies arrived.

"Come on, Joan, come help me decide what to wear. I never had to dress for my own bridal shower before." I said excitedly as Joan followed me into my bedroom. I was in my ultra casual attire. My shorts didn't even match. I had a pair of cutoff jean shorts on my front legs, cutoff more than even the most daisiest of DaisyDukes, as I had the whole butt portion cut out in order to accommodate my lower torso. The cutoff jean shorts covered my front vagina and upper portion of my front thighs though, and that was all that was important. My shorts in the back were cargo shorts and much less cut apart, except for the small hole in the back through which my horse tail emerged. On my feet, not only did my ankle-high white socks not match in pairs, none of the little colored stripes on the tops of the socks matched. But I wasn't concerned with matching this morning. I knew that I would have to change for the bridal shower anyway. It was being held at my house, so I didn't have to get dressed up too formally, but I was undecided on whether to stay casual or dress up a little. I mean, I only have one bridal shower in a lifetime, or at least I hoped there would only be one. "Casual or formal, Joan?" I asked the cowgirl friend and sister-in-law of mine.

Joan examined the clothes I had previously laid out atop my bed earlier in the morning. "Hmmmmm.... Moo," Joan said as she pointed to the pile of more casual clothes on the bed.

"Really?" I responded doubtfully. "Casual? For such a momentous event?" I said rising my upper arms up while simultaneously placing my two lower hands on my front hips.

"Hmm.... Moo," Joan said now pointing to the more formal attire on the other side of the bed.

"Oh you're a lot of help!" I exclaimed throwing all four of my hands up in exasperation. "Can I get something more than a 'moo,' Joan?"

Joan brought her upper right hand up to her chin as if thinking of what to say. "Well, it's just that you're at home and it's just friends and family, so I don't think there is any great need to dress up, ya'know?"

Joan's comment made a lot of sense but it was time to say what I had really been thinking. "If it was just my family, I wouldn't care. But I'm meeting Michael's family too, some of them for the very first time..."

Joan hesitated for a moment before finally speaking again. "Moo," she said now pointing more confidently to the more formal pile on the bed as she nodded her head.

"I couldn't have said it any better myself, Joan." I wrapped my four arms around Joan as we laughed together. She returned my hug wrapping her four arms around me. I didn't even end up wearing the more formal attire I had placed on the bed earlier that morning. Joan and I had to raid the closet a couple times to find something for me that was casual enough for a party at home but formal enough to meet Michael's extended family for the first time. Eventually I settled on a dress. Dresses tended to work well for my form anyway. My dresses were all custom made of course. Fairly standard from the waist up, besides the added room up front for my three pairs of c-cup breasts, but no specialized cups on the dress top on this one. I intentionally picked a dress that came with a high neckline so as not to show even the uppermost, and most normal of my many cleavages. I thought the more conservative the better for a first meeting with the future extended family in-laws. The hemline of the elongated dress came down to just below knee length, long enough to not show too much leg, and even more important, to not show any sign of my four boobs on my lower torso. I finished my day's look off with four very sensible two-inch heels. There, I thought, and now we should be casual yet formal enough for everyone.

"Moo?" Joan asked as she held up a pair of my custom-made, four-legged pantyhose.

"Nylons?" I asked. "For a home party? Doesn't that seem too formal?" I looked at my back legs, not really wanting to take off my shoes I had just finished putting on myself. "I was just thinking of going bare-legged."

Joan considered for a moment. "You don't know how conservative some of Mmmmmoooooo....ichael's relatives are." Joan said, stammering on the "m" words as she often did. "Some think wearing a dress without nylons is a crime."

"True," I pondered. "But maybe four thigh-highs would be simpler."

Joan shook her head. "Some mmmmmooooo.... ight consider that too slutty."

"Like my ten tits aren't?" I laughed as I used my lower hands to grab my two lowermost breasts on my upper torso.

"Meh, you got those covered, but never know when you mmmmmoooo.... ight have an updraft." Joan laughed as she threw me my pantyhose. Sighing as I took my four shoes back off, I gathered up my custom hose, carefully placing my back feet into the sheer black fabric, being careful not to catch any of the delicate fabric on my long toenails. I worked the fabric up my naturally hairless rear legs and over my lower torso that separated my front and back legs. Pulling the fabric over my four dangling breasts, held in place by my custom four-cupped strapless bra on my lower torso, before pulling my front legs up close to my chest, squishing my breasts on my upper torso with my upper thighs, trying to position my upper legs so as to carefully place them in the corresponding legs of the custom hose.

"So many custom clothes that we humantaurs need. What a waste of time and money," I said sarcastically as I positioned the waist of the elongated and four-legged pantyhose in place on my upper torso, just below my lowest pair of boobs. I repositioned my dress, pulling my horse tail out of the small hole in both my pantyhose and my dress to let it hang naturally outside of both, and then proceeded to put my still sensible low-heels back on my four feet. "Getting dressed as a humantaur is a lot of work, I think I'm ready for a nap." I joked.

Joan was well aware of the trials associated with being a humantaur. She was one like me. Well, not quite like me. She had four human legs separated by a second human torso in-between the front set and back set of legs, hence the name 'humantaur,' something that mother had come up with long ago. We being in the shape of a classic centaur, but having four human legs instead of four horse legs. The only horse part that mother and I had was the horse tail that hung down from our butt, above our rear set of legs. Joan, on the other hand, did not have a horse tail, but rather a cow's tail with a furry tuft at the end, tapering down to shorter black and white patterned fur on the shaft of the tail. That wasn't Joan's only cow parts either. She had two pointy cattle horns on either side of her head just above each of her temples.

Then there was her boobs. Although she only had four, a seemingly small number compared to the ten that mother and I each had, Joan's four boobs were huge, each larger than her head and struggling for space on the front of her upper torso in two pairs. That, was the extent of Joan's cowishness when she first took the red pill obtained by my mother for my brother, and later given to Joan by him. Soon afterward however, desire being what it is, Joan yearned for more and soon awoke to have a very large cow-like udder hanging down lowly from her lower torso between her rear legs. The massive udder had four six-inch long teats hanging down from it which dangled only a few inches from the ground as she would walk.

That, of course, was just the cosmetics of it. Then, there was her milk. Each of her four human nipples, each about the size of a thumb from the uppermost knuckle to the tip on her four huge human breasts and each of the four cow teats dangling from her udder in back would constantly need milking. Each of her breasts and her udder would require milking every 8 to 12 hours or they would become swollen and tender and eventually start leaking on their own if not expressed. My brother was the usual dairy farmer, but I admit that I've had to milk my dear friend and sister-in-law more than a couple times. Mostly because poor Joan has trouble reaching her teats when her udder gets especially engorged with milk. I, however, mostly just attach the suction cups to her teats and let her electric milking machine do the rest. I think my brother has a more elaborate technique for expressing milk out of Joan's teats and more especially her human breasts, but I try not to pry too deeply into that.

As my guests started to arrive, I greeted each with a four-armed hug. These hugs were greeted warmly by my friends and relatives and awkwardly by Michael's family. I'm not sure if it was the feeling of four arms wrapping around them or the hint of my six tits on my upper torso when I squeezed closer to them that freaked them out more. I could tell they were not comfortable around humantaurs like mother, Joan, and me. Joan's presence at the shower at least took some of the gawking away from me because even as strange as it was to see a woman with four legs and horse tail, they seemed to focus their stares even more on the hint of Joan's teats as the four tips of them peeked out ever so slightly as Joan walked in her dress.

Although the women of Michael's extended family tried to be polite and not stare, they couldn't help themselves. The stares were something I was, of course, used to. I mean, I had been dealing with it my entire life. Yet, somehow I seemed more bothered at the bridal shower than in other situations. I was, after all, essentially auditioning in a respect to become part of Michael's extended family. It was more important to me to be accepted by them than it was to be accepted by people in general.

It was thus even more disheartening to overhear two of Michael's aunts chatting in what they thought was an isolated section where they could speak truly without, they thought, me hearing them. "I can't understand why Michael would want to be with a freak like that." I heard, quite unintentionally, one of his aunts say to another. Even though I had stumbled innocently onto this conversation not meant to be heard be me, as like anyone, when I heard the conversation was about me, I could not turn away.

"I know," the other aunt agreed. "Can you believe how awful they look? I mean I heard they had some extra bits, but this is ridiculous." She shook her head judgmentally.

"I know right?" The other aunt agreed. "And it's not just extra appendages...." The aunt lowered her voice into even more of a whisper. "I think that it is also extra private parts."

"That is so disgusting." The first aunt continued. "And what is even worse, I think that one over there has a fucking cow udder!"

"Oh I know," The second aunt laughed. "I didn't know whether to shake her hand or start milking her!" The first aunt was about to join her in laughter when I came around the corner revealing my presence.

"She already has someone to milk her, so those services won't be needed from you!" I said loudly before walking away, but staying just long enough to see their mouths fall agape and others in attendance turn to look at them.

When the aunts jaws finally became re-hinged, they followed me and started to apologize. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... I mean, we've just never seen..." They struggled for words until Joan walked up to them while pulling on the back portion of her own skirt to better reveal more of her huge swaying udder. "Moo!!" She yelled at them and then stormed away quickly, her udder smacking the sides of her rear legs as she did so.

"I agree," I said as I wrapped my two left arms around Joan's upper torso and walked side-by-side with her to my bedroom and away from the party. Michael, detecting my distain, followed me to the bedroom only to find the door shut and locked. "Baby?" Michael knocked on the door. "Look, they didn't mean anything. They've just never seen anyone like you."

Joan and I reemerged later and rejoined the party after enough time had passed for me to believe Michael's aunts had been thoroughly punished for their comments. Michael played along dutifully if not enthusiastically with the various bridal shower games.

"What is the bride's favorite book?" Michael's judgmental aunt asked as one of the questions in the bridal game. She did not make eye contact with either me or Joan, whereas previously she could not seem to stop staring at us.

"Umm...." Michael hesitated to answer just as he did all the previous questions asked about my personal favorites in the bridal shower game.

"Gee, you don't seem to know me very well considering your about to marry me, Michael!" I said as I give my future husband a playful slap on his leg.

"Umm...." Michael still hesitated trying to think of the right answer, desperately hoping to get at least one of the questions about me right. In order to help him, I reached back with my lower right hand and grabbed hold of my tail and held it up to him. Michael looked at it still not understanding. "Um, tail... um... butt... um... Booty Call?"

I threw all four of my arms up in exasperation. "Booty Call?? You think my favorite book is called 'Booty Call'?" I gave him a slightly less playful slap on his leg. "These are supposed to be my favorite books, not yours!"

Michael blushed slightly. "Oh sorry, what is it? Tail Something?"

Holding my tail in my hand again. "Tail? That was a perfect hint. Tail... Tale... Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens."

"Oh sorry, didn't quite catch that hint." Michael said, nervously drinking more of his cocktail. "Maybe I'll get the next one."

"No, it's over!" I joked. "You obviously know nothing about me." I started to pretend to slap him more as he lovingly grabbed my upper torso and hugged me and kissed me on the lips.

"Aww, they are so cute together," I heard one of Michael's gossiping aunts say, as if trying to get back in good graces.

"We'll see..." I heard my mother say under her breath while staring sternly at Michael. I let the comment pass knowing that mother still hadn't warmed up to Michael, but hoping that seeing us affectionate towards one another might, eventually, persuade her.

As the gift opening started, I discovered the usual array of gift cards, body lotions, candles, picture frames and the like. It was Joan's gift that took me more by surprise. As she handed me the gift, so nicely boxed and wrapped, I noticed the four small wet spots on her dress where the points of her large nips poked out against the fabric. Joan had not had a chance to express her milk since early this morning and her breasts, and no doubt her udder as well, where becoming engorged. I took the gift box from her with a smile, ripping off the paper and opening the box. "It's... baby clothes? Joan! This is a bridal shower, not a baby shower!"

"I know," Joan smiled devilishly. "But knowing you as I do, I know you wouldn't want to waste any time!"

"You're horrible!" I said giving Joan a playful smack on her rump just above her cow tail.

"I put two sets of baby booties in there," Joan continued. "I didn't know if your child would have two feet or four." That comment immediately resulted in Michael's aunts shifting in their chairs uncomfortably at the thought that more "freaks" might be born into their family.

As the once delicious appetizers and dips slowly faded into crumbs and leftovers, and the partygoers slowly started to drift home, my home was eventually left occupied only with myself, Micheal, mother, and Joan. I kicked off my still sensible, yet now somewhat painful to wear, heels across to the other side of the room. "Well, that seemed to be a successful party." I offered, watching Joan's expression of relief as the electric milker expressed the milk from her swollen udder, suction cups firmly in place on each of her teats as soon as the last of the guests had left.

"I for one am glad it is over" Joan said removing the last of the suction cups from her teat and walking to the sink to throw what appeared to me to be nearly a gallon of milk down the drain.

"Well, Joan and I should go put away the gifts." I looked to mother and then to Michael. "Mother, why don't you and Michael start putting away the dishes?"

"I'll do it myself," mother said, walking by Michael without making eye contact with him. My attempt for mother and Michael to get on better terms was not going to succeed, not tonight anyway. Instead of putting the gifts away, I joined mother in the kitchen as she washed dishes.

"Why can't you give him a chance, mother?" I whispered so Michael wouldn't hear but still spoke sharply enough that mother would know I was not pleased with her. "He isn't Mark, okay?"

"No..." mother hesitated before finding the words she wanted. "Mark was too stupid to be as devious as Michael."

"What are you talking about?" I glared at my mother. She only looked at the dishes in the sink as she quickly washed them using her six hands.

"A mother knows these things, dear." She again hesitated before finding the words. "It's... intuition." I argued with mother on and off for the rest of the night before finally concluding that mother would be unsatisfied with any man I chose.

After mother and Joan had left, I finished cleaning the last remains of the party. I crawled into bed next to Michael. I pulled close to him under the covers, pressing my six upper breasts against his side as I ran my fingers of my upper left hand through the hair on his chest. He reached over and lightly caressed the area between the back of my thigh on my front left leg and my upper left breast on my lower torso. I blew gently into his ear as I whispered into it. "Sorry you had to endure all that girliness today. Just think, you can party with the boys next weekend at the bachelor party."

"You know I'd always rather be with you, honey, girly parties or not." Michael said like the automatic response of a man in a relationship.

"Yeah right," I said while planting a kiss on his cheek. "How many strip clubs you going to again?"

"No strip clubs," Michael said trying to sound sincere. "Just at Bud's house, shoot some pool, throw a few darts, drink a few brews, that sorta thing."

I kissed him on the lips this time before remarking. "So no strippers?"

"Well," Michael said while kissing me back. "If Bud decides to have one over at his house, I can't exactly stop him now can I?" He smiled as he ran his hand up my front side caressing each of my six upper breasts. "Besides, none of them can compare to you, honey." I wrapped my front left leg around him pulling him closer to my front sex. I used my lower hands to pull down his pajama pants and pull out his now erect cock. I rubbed his manhood with my lower hands before placing it in my now wet front vagina. We had intercourse laying on our sides, him thrusting into my front sex while he rubbed and suckled at each of my six upper breasts until I felt him ejaculate into my front sex. I orgasmed too in my front vagina. My back vagina was wet but unsatisfied. That was alright. I would take care of my back vagina myself in the shower as I cleaned myself and while he fell asleep.

Michael didn't have the stamina to take care of both my front and back vaginas in the same night like some of my previous lovers did. I didn't care. I loved him and that's all that mattered. It didn't matter that Mark was better in the sack. It didn't matter that Mark could fuck me in the front pussy and get me off and then move to the rear pussy and get me off back there, then come back to the front pussy and make me come again before finally shooting his load inside my front vagina. Mark had a lot of passion. Too much perhaps. But neither stamina nor passion was everything. I wanted sex that night from Michael not so much out of passion, but to prove the love between us. And to prove my mother was wrong about him.

Michael quickly rolled over and fell to sleep. I crawled nakedly out of bed. I held my hand over my front vagina to catch the cum dripping off my labia before I could get into the shower to wash it off. After cleaning the traces of love off my front sex and thighs. I reached back and lifted my horse tail and inserted my fingers into my rear pussy. I rubbed my rear clit as the hot water of the shower rained down on my six upper tits. I caressed my upper tits with two hands and caressed my lower torso breasts with my third hand while continuing to rub my rear clitoris with my fourth hand. I thought of sex with Mark as I masturbated. As I often did. It was no slight on Michael. I loved him. But, while Mark's passion wasn't everything.... Thought of it could still get me off...

Michael attended his bachelor party the following weekend at his friend Bud's house, which was for the duration of the party, of course, off limits to me. Michael came home early the next morning, hung over and still reeking of booze from the night before. He assured me that no strippers were in attendance, even though the smell of her cheap perfume was the only stench on him more powerful than the booze. I let him believe that I believed there were no strippers. It was his bachelor party after all, no reason for him and his drunken buddies not to enjoy a stripper.

With the bridal shower and the bachelor party complete, the only thing left was the event itself. I had passed on the idea of a bachelorette party. Joan and I tended to attract more attention than we liked at drunken events; and as a result, they were oftentimes less than enjoyable. Not really my style anyway.

Mother and I were scouting locations for the rehearsal dinner when she took the opportunity to discuss one of her favorite reasons for not liking Michael. "Maybe Michael can pay for the rehearsal dinner?" Mother gave just a split second pause before answering her own question. "Oh yeah, that's right, he doesn't have a job."

"Mother, would you stop it. Michael has a job. He is an artist."

"Filming porno does not make him an artist." Mother said matter-of-factly. "And the fact that he is failing at it is even more telling. I mean, even your idiot brother made money in porno. I mean, how bad do you have to be to not make at least some money in that?"

I shook my head as I explained it yet again to mother even though she had brought the same subject up numerous times before. "As I have told you mother, it is not porno. He makes intimate, romantic, independent films; real stories about complex characters.

Following our trip to the rehearsal diner location, mother and I squeezed back into mother's car, struggling to fit eight legs into the front even with both of our seats positioned all the way back. Mother parked the car in the lot behind one of our town's strip malls, which housed our favorite nail salon. Our wedding manicures and pedicures were awaiting us. The salon owner Mi-sun greeted us with a smile. "Oh, Winter, so glad to see you, and you brought your daughter, Summer along, so nice to see you again as well."

Nice indeed, I thought. Every time mother came here, they got to charge double for the pedicure and triple for the manicure. One would think we would get a bulk discount. Regrettably it didn't work that way. I sat in the chair designed for pedicures, not fitting any better in it than the car seat or any chair designed for the mere two-legged people for that matter. I sat in the chair, taking a seat where my butt would be if I was two-legged, instead having my four legs and lower torso sprawled out in front of me. Luckily with my lower torso being so flexible, it didn't cause any issues. It wasn't always the most comfortable, compared to my chairs at home designed to accommodate both sets of legs, but it would do. Propping my four legs up, Mi-sun removed my heels and placed each of my four feet into soaking tubs filled with the goop which was supposedly designed to cleanse my feet and to prepare for removal of my old polish.

"Just relax," said Mi-sun. "We'll have you in new beautiful polish before you know it. Of course, takes longer for you and your mother than most." Mi-sun said with a giggle. I spoke to mother as she soaked next to me, sitting on her pedicure chair just as awkwardly as I was sitting on mine. I tried to direct the conversation at more mundane topics than the wedding, as mother tended to bring any conversation about the wedding back to how Michael was not right for me. Mi-sun was just finishing the removal of my old polish on my fourth and last foot when I caught sight of Michael across the street, outside of a massage parlor. I thought I would mention it to mother, but decided that I didn't want to hear her response about why Michael would ever need a massage not having worked a single day since she had know him.

As Mi-sun brought out her nail files to start shaping my toenails, I spoke. "Start with mom, Mi-sun, I'm going to go stretch for a minute outside. These chairs weren't built for someone with as many legs as I have." I said as I stood up back on my four feet, grimacing more than what was necessary in order to convince Mi-sun and Mother than I needed to walk off a cramp in my lower torso's back. I placed my heels back onto my four bare and still slightly wet feet and walked outside. Mother watched me with what I thought was a small bit of suspicion but she didn't say a word as Mi-sun started filing mother's toenails on her rear left foot.

I walked across the street to the massage parlor which I had witnessed Michael enter just a few minutes before. Strange the he would be going to a massage parlor. I had never knew he even had massages before. I opened the door to find the parlor mostly dark and empty as if it had been closed for some time. No, not just closed, but perhaps out of business. I saw Michael in the shadows on the other end of the building speaking with a woman. As I drew closer, I spoke out. "Michael? Is that you?" Michael turned with a start.

"S... Summer?" Michael stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom and I are getting our nails done for the wedding." I replied simply. "What are you doing here? This place doesn't even look like it is in business anymore." As I took position next to Michael I noticed the woman with whom he spoke more clearly now that I was closer to her in the dim light. She had long and styled platinum blond hair which extended down to the middle of her back. She wore lots of makeup and was wearing a skimpy dress. The most noticeable aspect of her was her cleavage, which she was not hiding in the slightest. Her breasts were huge but not naturally so. It was clear not only from the giant size, but also from the perfect roundness and firmness that she had large implants in her breasts. The augmentation of her boobs wasn't the only surgery she had endured. Her face was pulled tight with not a hint of wrinkles, a tiny nose was perched above huge, full lips. Her lips so full and firm and large that they betrayed the fact that she had at least one, and likely several, surgeries. The woman was a regular plastic doll.

"Oh uh yeah," Michael continued sporadically. "It's not open yet... well, I mean it closed. Or rather the massage place closed. But it will open, I mean Brandy here, will be working. Anyway, I think we are done." Michael looked to the plastic doll of a woman, apparently named Brandy, and gave her a nod. "We'll talk more about that later." Michael grabbed my lower right elbow and started guiding me back toward the front entrance.

"Bye.. uh, Brandy was it?" I said looking back over my shoulder, still being led by my arm toward the door by Michael.

"Your nails look great, honey" Michael said talking my two upper hands in his as we stood in front of the door to the abandoned massage parlor on the sidewalk.

I looked at Michael trying to find meaning in what he was saying. "They haven't been done yet. That is my old polish."

"Oh, well then I bet they are going to look even better then," Michael tried to force a smile. "You should get back to the salon. I'm sure Winter is waiting for you, honey."

"Is that girl just going to stay in there?" I asked, looking over Michael's shoulder back through the glass door of the abandoned business.

"Oh she works back there." Michael nodded his head repeatedly.

"Place looks abandoned to me." Again looking at the mostly empty and dimly lit store interior.

"Oh it is," Michael said again taking me by the arm and leading me back across the street to the nail salon. "I mean, she just uses the kitchen in the back of the place... For the catering. Michael was now practically pushing me back through the door to the salon. "She's one of the caterers... for the wedding. I was going over some of the last minute details." Michael didn't step into the salon but only gave a quick wave to mother. "Hi Winter, good seeing you."

"Caterer? Looked more like a stripper to me." I looked back at the door to catch sight of her again as she walked out the front door.

Michael left without ever entering the salon. I made may way back to the pedicure chair and Mi-sun started filing down my toenails and removing the old polish while mother was already getting the coloring placed on her uppermost pair of hands. I told mother about Michael speaking with the caterer, but didn't mention anything about her looks to mom. The last thing I needed was for mother to think Michael was talking to a stripper. It was unusual. I had concluded in my own mind that Brandy, if that was her real name, was most likely the stripper from the other night at Bud's house, and Michael didn't want to be caught in the lie that I already knew anyway. No reason to get mother involved in any of that. She wouldn't have approved of the stripper at Michael's party. I, on the other hand, knew that the boys needed to blow off a little steam and see that their friend was sent off properly into marital life.

I would have never given it another moment's thought if I hadn't seen a girl go back into that same abandoned parlor later that same week. It wasn't like I was spying, or even suspicious. I had returned to that same strip mall, the "Beauty District" we called it. Not just the nail salon, but the hairdresser, and bridal store were all within the same strip of stores. Mother hated it. She would pine over the good ol' days when the mall was still open with the large department stores at each corner. She would talk about how much easier it was to have everything in the same building attached to the large department stores, rather than having to go to five different strip malls. The old huge department stores had all gone bankrupt due to the age of online shopping and home delivery. Mother loved to talk about how she would go shopping at the old mall and how she had received that first green pill in the parking lot of that mall. The pill had changed her life and given birth to a family of humantaurs.

I didn't find the strip malls nearly as inconvenient as mother did. Sure, all the stores weren't in one huge building, but each of the various strip malls around town seemed to have a theme. This one featured all of a girl's beauty needs: nail salon, hairdresser, cosmetics store, and even the bridal store. It was not a hassle. I think mother just liked talking about the good ol' mall days mainly because she liked telling the story of the green pill and how her life was transformed for the better.

I, on the other hand, or hands as it were, had always been humantaur since the moment of birth. So, having four legs was simply normal to me. It comes with certain advantages and disadvantages, but for whatever reason, mother had been terribly unhappy until becoming the humantaur she is today. I was happy for her. Yet, somehow I think our unique forms sometimes made mother even more overprotective than she might otherwise be. She was well aware that there were those out there just interested in the freaksex and not at all interested in the girl behind the girltaur. Yet, unlike mother, I think that I appreciated the freaksex sometimes. I mean, I wanted lasting happiness too, but I did enjoy a few rounds of sex for fun too.

Anyway, as we entered the bridal store to make what would hopefully be the last of the many alterations to my wedding gown, I couldn't help but glance over at the entry to the abandoned massage parlor across the street. What had captured my view was that a woman was entering the parlor. Not only was it strange enough that a woman would be entering an abandoned store, but it was also another slutty looking woman. I thought for a second it was Brandy again, but this woman was different, taller and more slender, smaller yet equally-fake silicone boobs, and way too much makeup. Another caterer? I thought sarcastically. More likely a stripper business was being run out of the back of the old parlor. I didn't give it more thought at that point. After all, I had a dress to try on for the 15th time in the past few months. Additionally, Michael's bachelor party was over. He had presumably paid whatever money was still owed to her for her "performance" the other night. Bud had probably underpaid her. He always was a cheapskate. Michael had probably wanted to make sure the girl was taken care of, properly compensated for grinding for a bunch of drunken friends of his.

I tried on my wedding gown and all of my accessories. Thankfully the 15th time was the charm and each piece fit perfectly. I know a humantaur is going to require more adjustments than most on a gown, but if I had to make one more alteration to the dress, I probably would have screamed. The dress was white with halter-style strap that wrapped around the back of my neck with my shoulders and top half of my back exposed. The front contained six cups with lace trim around them showing a small bit of cleavage from each of my three pairs of breasts on my upper torso. the skirt of the dress was long and trailed behind my rear legs with a train that dragged a few feet behind my back legs. My horse tail could stick through a small hole sewn in the back.

I was spending about as much money to style my tail hair as I was my head hair. I wasn't going to hide it. Especially since my tail hair would, I hoped, perfectly match the styling of my head hair. I wore four thigh-high white nylon stockings with white, thigh garters at the top of each. I had a total of four sets of shoes. Two sets of identical white strappy pumps with high heel for the ceremony and then two pairs of white slippers for dancing later in the night.

With nails and dress taken care of, the only part of my appearance left to worry about was getting my hair and tail styled and getting my makeup applied. Those would, of course, have to wait until the morning of the ceremony. It was nice to have all the other details taken care of however, assuming I could make it the last couple days without chipping one of my expensive nails and not having to make an emergency trip back to the nail salon. It was with a great sense of relief over having almost everything arranged for the wedding day that I left the bridal shop. My happy mood changed quickly when as I was placing the fourth and final sneaker on my foot at the front of the bridal store. I had just finished changing back into the casual clothes that I had brought to the store when I saw Michael. He was with Brandy. They were arm in arm...

I saw Michael across the street look nervously around as he escorted Brandy into the abandoned massage parlor. My mind raced for an innocent explanation as to why Michael might be escorting this woman into the abandoned building again. Surely to go over some last minute catering details, I told myself. I was almost believing it as I walked across the street and into the building to discover it just as dim and just as empty as it had been before. I crept slowly to the back of the building. I didn't even realize that I was sneaking along on the tiptoes of all four of my feet. It was apparent to my subconscious mind, if not my conscious one, that I didn't want to be heard approaching.

I heard Michael and Brandy speaking in the next room. The "kitchen," as Michael had called it, was barren without so much as even a microwave oven. Emptiness filled the back room as much the front room. I slid along the wall adjoining the back room, careful not to make a sound as I pressed my ear to the wall so as to better hear them as they spoke.

"Don't worry," I heard Michael's voice say. "It will all be taken care of."

"But, like, I don't understand. If you're married..." I heard what was undoubtedly Brandy's voice even though I hadn't actually heard her speak before just then. Her voice became high pitched and the end of every sentence she spoke, making it sound like everything she said was a question. Her inflection was that of a California Valley Girl, yet her accent was closer to that of a Jersey Girl.

"I told you," Michael spoke in his reassuring voice with which I was all too familiar. Michael used the same voice with me whenever he was trying to convince me that he was in the right. "We'll get a quickie divorce after I have my second cock."

I couldn't understand what Michael was talking about but my heart broke as I heard the words "quickie divorce" coming from my Michael's mouth. I couldn't comprehend anything else he was saying. I wanted to start crying but managed to contain myself in order to continue listening quietly.

"But how am I not going to have to work again?" Brandy asked.

"I told you, baby," Michael paused as I heard what sounded like a kiss being planted. "When I've got my second cock, I'll make a fortune on my films."

"Um.. Like, why is that again?" Brandy's voice sounding every bit as light and airy as I suspected her head was.

"I told you, baby, people love that freaky shit."

"Why don't you just film that horse girl? It would be a lot easier than marrying the bitch." Brandy was undoubtedly referring to me.

"She would never do it. Even if I could convince her, I'd be dependant on her. Once I have two cocks, I can run my own show." Michael stated confidently. I still couldn't comprehend what Michael was talking about, but luckily, or perhaps unluckily, he continued. "That's how it works. It happened with her father and her sister-in-law. They got transformed into the form of their dreams. It will be the same for me, you'll see." I heard another pause followed but the unmistakable sounds of a rather deep and wet kiss.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I marched into the adjoining room. "Michael, you fucking bastard!" I saw Michael was indeed kissing Brandy deeply on the mouth. He quickly broke away from her and stared in shocked silence at me.

Michael gave Brandy a slight shove away from him. "Summer... Baby, this isn't what it looks like..." Michael struggled for something to say as all I could do was stand there on all fours and hold each of my four hands to my face which was now streaming with tears. "Look, she kissed me." Michael tried to say with confidence. "I couldn't stop it before we were locked in a kiss." Not getting a response from me as I cried, he continued. "Look, maybe I returned it for a moment, and that was wrong, but I didn't want it. You know I would never hurt you, honey."

I galloped away from them and back out onto the sidewalk. Michael followed, catching me just outside the building and put his arms around me. I weakly tried to push him away but couldn't find the strength. Visions of my mother entered my head of each and every time she had said that Michael was no good for me. "You should have found some other place to meet your whores than across the street from the bridal shop you fucking idiot!" I screamed at him through my tears. "What? Did you want to get caught? Did you want to end this? You could have just said so!" I spoke through tears and two of my hands over my face while trying to push Michael away with my other two hands. I couldn't listen to him even though he tried to justify himself. I made my way back to my car and managed with difficulty to get behind the driver's seat. I was always cramped in my car despite having the seat all the way back, trying to fit my four legs and lower torso in front of me, It was even more difficult with a face full of streaming tears.

Michael followed me back to the house. I blocked the door with all the weight of my humantaur body and told him to go away. He eventually left, not able to open the door. He spent the rest of the day calling me repeatedly on my cell phone. I refused to answer. I desperately wanted to reach out and call mother. Even though we fought, when it came right down to it, Winter was not only my mother but one of my best friends. I wanted to speak with her about what had happened and what I had heard, but was so embarrassed and didn't want her knowing how right she had been... again.

Yet, as desperately as I wanted to call mother, there was something I wanted even more... To answer Michael's phone calls. I cursed myself for even considering answering his calls. Yet, despite what I had heard, I wanted him to justify himself, wanted him to explain himself. My heart hurt. I still loved him and I wanted him to explain every bad moment away so that I could love him again. Go back to feeling that warmth in my heart rather than the hollowness that was occupying it now. After what I estimated was his 17th attempt, I finally answered his call. After hurling several expletives his way, I actually found myself agreeing to allow him to come back to the house.

As soon as I opened the door for him, I started pounding angrily on his chest with my four balled up fists. He caught two of them but was unable to defend against the onslaught of my other two. I grew tired and eventually fell to the floor spread out on all four legs crying to myself. Michael sat down next to me and held me. I did not stop him this time. I only cried. Michael allowed me to cry before talking again.

"I know it looks bad, baby, but you've got to understand." Michael was speaking softly and calmly. "That girl means nothing to me." Michael gave a reassuring squeeze to my shoulders as he spoke. "I just needed her for my next picture that I'm doing. She was hesitant to star in it saying that she could make more money staying in her day job."

"As a caterer?" I asked sardonically.

"Okay, yeah, probably guessed that she is not a caterer. That was a lie, but it was like one of the only ones, swear." Michael held his right hand up in the air as if he was preparing to testify in court. "I didn't want you to worry that I was meeting a stripper in person. But, truly, it was all business, nothing sexual about it, not even so much as a lap dance. I was only there to hire her for my next art film about the life, the oftentimes hard life, of an exotic dancer. I needed some real world experience in the part, for authenticity. I knew how bad it would look to you, meeting a stripper in private. I didn't want to worry you this close to the wedding was all. I would have told you afterward. It was just that you were under so much stress with the wedding plans. I didn't want to add to it. And I didn't want you to worry about my work troubles. I mean, fact is, I've poured so much into this next project, I don't know if I'll be able to keep making my art films if I can't convince her to take the part." Michael sighed heavily. "Maybe I should just give up on my dream. Start delivering pizza for a living. At least it would be a steady paycheck. You deserve better than an artist that can't even sell his films."

"No," I raised my upper right hand up to Michael's face lovingly. "You shouldn't have to give up on your dreams."

"No!" Michael exclaimed firmly. "It's not fair to you. No more talking to people like her. Tomorrow I start filling out applications for real jobs, and give up on this nonsense."

I raised my other upper hand to his face and caressed his cheek lovingly on both sides. "No, I love your artistic side, darling." I felt my heart filling back up with the warmth of the love I had for Michael. Yet, my brain was screaming inside. What was I doing?! Michael had a lot to answer for! "What was that you were telling the stripper?" I couldn't bring myself to use Brandy's name in conversation. "About the transformations of my father and sister-in-law? That was just some bullshit line you were feeding her to get her to agree I suppose?" Or rather, I hoped.

"Oh that..." Michael let out another long sigh. "I'm afraid that might be necessary, my dear."

"What do you mean?" I asked genuinely confused.

"Well," He continued slowly seeing that he again had my attention despite the day's earlier hostilities. "I don't think it's a coincidence that your father and sister-in-law were transformed before they started a long and serious relationship with your family."

"I don't understand." I gave Michael a puzzled look. "What do father and Joan have to do with anything?"

"Not just them," Michael continued. "But anyone who wants to truly become involved in a serious relationship that evolves into a long-lasting one with someone as.... different as your family...."

"I don't get what you are saying," I was now more confused than ever.

"I'm saying it's not an accident. I don't want to speak for them, but even if it wasn't on a conscious level, I mean... Two people, one normal, and one so... different, at least physically..." He paused again seeing my confused look. "I mean, shared adversity can lead to great commitment between people. The very fact that they share those differences, led to strong and enduring relationships in your family."

"But... My parents got divorced." I responded, just barely seeing the point I thought Michael was trying to make.

"Yeah, after nearly twenty long and mostly happy years. And they are still friendly with each other, a big accomplishment in this day and age." Michael said with conviction. "And your brother and Joan, how happy they are... I mean... No accident, what I'm saying." Michael nodded his head as if to convince himself as much as me.

"You... you want to be transformed?" I asked still not completely comprehending what Michael was wanting.

"Not a matter of want, dear. We need it. If today's misunderstanding is proof of anything, it is that relationships are hard. We need every leg up we can get." Michael caressed my rear right leg as he spoke about getting a leg up on our relationship. He flashed a smile at me and despite what the more analytical parts of my brain were saying, I melted in his warm embrace and handsome smile.

"I wouldn't even know how to transform you." I spoke honestly. "That was all my mother's doing. I'm sure you heard her stories about the pills and all that."

"Of course," He nodded, never letting his smile fade. "I figured you could do the same thing."

"How you figure that?" I asked.

"It's in your blood." Michael stated with what seemed like true conviction. "Call and the help shall come."

"And you will become a humantaur?" I asked, still completely unsure of his plan.

"Well no," Michael slowly shook his head. "Not that there is anything wrong with being a humantaur, but I was thinking something a little more subtle..."

"Two cocks?" I heard you tell that stripper." I reached my lower left hand down between Michael's legs, strangely turned on by the thought.

"Mmm, yeah, and two sets of balls." He thought for a moment. "And hell, bigger too." We laughed at his comment. He leaned forward and kissed my lips as I slowly caressed his cock through his pants. We had sex again that night. That is to say, intercourse in my front vagina. Makeup sex always seemed like the best sex. Michael didn't have the stamina to move beyond a single orgasm in my front sex; nothing unusual for him. I was just so happy to have him back in my life after that scare this morning. Nothing hurt as much as the fear of losing that love. And as I masturbated my rear sex in the shower that night, I thought again of Mark and his wonderfully muscular tattooed arms. As my rear vagina orgasmed in the shower, I squeezed three of my six upper-torso breasts and thought immediately about procuring a pill for my love...

I went to the abandoned mall building where mother had gone 23 years earlier to obtain the first of those pills. I called out into the empty parking lot for a man whom I had never met and whose name I didn't even know. Nothing. I tried for hours, walking all around the once thriving and now desolate mall yelling into the air for a man to come bring me a pill to solve all sorrows and guaranteed to make Michael and me live happily ever after. Again nothing. Just my empty words in the air. Despite Michael's confidence, it appeared that I did not possess my mother's talent for summoning pill-toting bums. I tried a different tactic....

"I need a favor, mother." I asked timidly as I walked into the kitchen of mother's house.

"Yes, I will drive you to the hairdresser that morning. We can both get our makeup, hair and tails, styled together." Mom responded, incorrectly guessing my favor.

"Um... no," I muttered. "I was wondering if you could call the guy."

"What guy?" I don't know why I expected mother to know what I wanted. The whole affair seemed to have come from nowhere.

"The bum with the pills." I sputtered out quicker that I had wanted.

"What?!" Mother shot me a stern look.

"It's just that..." I stared down at my front feet while I spoke, not able to look mother in the eyes. "I need it for Michael."

"Oh for fuck's sake! You are as bad as your brother." Mother crossed all six of her arms under her corresponding breasts as she eyed me. "You want a humantaur lover too I take it?"

"Yeah, something like that," I lied. "Makes sense for us to match if we are going to become one in matrimony."

"Fine, Fine, I'll try. I can't promise anything. I still don't know how it all works." Mother seemed strangely okay with my request. Despite her six sternly crossed arms, I almost got the feeling she was in favor of the change. "I guess I'll start at the old mall building. Want to come along?" I almost said that I had already been there all morning before thinking better of it. I simply responded that I wasn't interested in tagging along. Mother, however, insisted, saying that if it was for me, I could darn well come along. So I went back to the scene with mom in tow.

Mother called out into the nothingness of the parking lot much as I had done earlier that day. As the two of us walked in our own unique humantaur manner, we caught sight of a man shifting around in a trashcan at the street corner just outside of the parking area of the old mall. We walked over to him.

"I know what you need." We heard the man say as we approached.

"Lets have it then," My mother held out her lowermost right hand.

The man looked up from his trashcan and looked both my mother and me over before finally speaking. "I'm the one supposed to be asking for handouts. You think I'd be eating out of a garbage can if I had summin' to give ya?"

"Enough bullshit, just hand it over already," Mother said growing impatient.

"Not even going to offer me a pony ride first, horse ladies?" The bum started laughing at his own joke revealing the sorry state of his rotten teeth and the foul odor of his equally rotten breath. My mother demanded the bottle with the pill. The bum relented. "Here ya go ladies. Be sure to take it with water. It's a regular horsepill." With that, the bum erupted into another spat of laugher. "It was always you, Winter." I heard the bum whisper before he started walking away.

Mother held in her lowermost right hand a small glass bottle with a plastic black screwtop with a large yellow pill inside of it. She looked at it closely for a moment before handing it to me. "Here you go dear. Consider it a wedding gift. I hope everything works out well for you, I really do."

With pill bottle firmly in hand, I drove as quickly as I could manage to Michael's apartment, He had mostly been living at my place for the last several months, but I had wanted him to stay at his place these next couple days. Bad luck to see the bride before the wedding and all. Little did I know how bad my luck would be. Driving over unannounced and bursting in excitedly with pill in hand was not what Michael had been expecting. Obviously... as the first sight that greeted me was that of Michael's bare ass as he was thrusting into Brandy on his couch. The sound of me bursting into Michael's apartment frightened them both. Michael jumped both into the air and out of Brandy's vagina. He now stood naked as the day he was born and stared blankly at me.

I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing. How could I have been so stupid as to have believed his bullshit after the first time I caught them kissing? I stood frozen in place at the open door leading into Michael's apartment. Michael stood there, equally frozen, dick still rock hard and glistening with the wetness of Brandy's cunt. Brandy was still sitting bolt upright on Michael's couch making no effort to cover her huge naked silicone tits.

Brandy finally broke the silence with her high-pitched voice. "Did you know the horse lady was comin' over, Mikey?"

"This isn't what it looks like," Michael- or was it 'Mikey'- started to say, his erection now quickly starting to fade.

"Oh?!" I responded angrily. "Let me guess, you didn't fuck her, she fucked you. And lets see, you did fuck her back but only for a second and that was wrong. But you would never hurt me, right?" I mocked his words from only one day before.

"Like, I don't get it," Brandy said in her simple airheaded confusion. "Why is the horse lady here again?"

"And to think," I continued. "I was actually excited to come here to show you what I found."

"You got the pill?" Michael responded excitedly, bounding toward me, forgetting for a moment that he was still naked as his now limp cock slapped against his thigh.

"You mean this pill here?" I held up the small glass bottle holding the single yellow pill for Michael to see.

That's great, honey." Michael said with excitement.

"As if I would give it to you, you lowlife." I said with hatred even while another small part of me liked seeing the excitement in Michael's face as I showed him the pill. Mother was right, I really did have bad instincts when it came to men.

"What? This?" Michael pointed to Brandy who was still sitting on the couch with her giant silicone tits hanging out. She appeared barely interested in the conversation between Michael and me. "No, we were just rehearsing for my new film, honey. I'm not in love with her. It's just acting, dear. She means nothing to me other than as a fellow actor. You are the one I love, baby."

"That was rehearsing?" Brandy asked with more veracity than Michael was managing. "Wow that was really good, I didn't even know that was a rehearsal."

"Yeah, neither did he, Brandy," I unscrewed the cap on the tiny bottle. "Not until I came in anyway." I upturned the bottle and rattled the bottle until the yellow pill fell out. I threw it angrily at Michael. "Here is your stupid pill! I hope you choke on it!" The pill fell to the floor of Michael's apartment and slid across to the other side of Michael's living room on the hardwood floor. Michael scrambled after it nakedly.

Brandy watched Michael scramble across the floor after the large yellow pill still making no effort to cover her huge silicone boobs. "Is that the pill thingy you was talkin' about, Mikey? Now you don't even havta divorce the horse lady."

"Shut up, Brandy!" Michael shouted as he picked up the pill from the floor and held it between his thumb and pointer finger looking at it with satisfaction.

"You shut up!" Brandy yelled back. Michael placed the large pill in his mouth and swallowed without any drink to wash it down with, smiling in contentment.

"You're such a stupid bitch, Brandy!" Michael didn't even bother to look at me or at Brandy, only looking down to his cock hoping that some transformation would occur instantly.

"You're a stupid bitch, Mikey!" Brandy shot back apparently not able to think of any retort of her own and simply repeating back Michael's comments.

"You two deserve each other!" I screamed at both of them. When I yelled it, I felt something; a tingling sensation that covered my whole body from the tip of my nose to the heels of my rear legs. It was strong and powerful but almost gone as quickly as it came. I'm not sure from where it came, but it was a sensation unlike any I had ever had before. I felt a sense of great satisfaction. When I told Michael and Brandy that they deserved each other I had meant it. I wanted nothing to do with either of them at that moment, and most especially nothing to do with Michael. Despite all of my lingering feelings of love that I had even in the midst of seeing him nakedly thrusting his silicone bimbo, at that moment, for only a brief moment perhaps, I had no feelings for him other than hatred. It was a momentary yet passionate hatred that filled my soul and a moment of brief clarity and truth that Michael, the asshole, truly belonged, not with me, but rather his airheaded slut.

The moment passed. I stormed out of Michael's apartment, slamming the door behind me, just barely missing my horse tail as I did so. Almost immediately after slamming the door in anger, it regretted it. A small part of me still hated, absolutely hated, any expression of anything other than love toward Michael. What the hell was wrong with me? I asked myself. Even when I catch him butt naked pounding a woman, I still have sympathy for him.

I went home and fell to sleep that night with the impending dread of having to tell mother that the wedding was off. Not to mention, the embarrassment of telling all my friends and family that I wasn't good enough to keep this relationship together. Yes, I did feel that way. As pathetic as it sounded, I blamed myself. A normal reaction would, of course, be to blame the asshole that was pounding the stripper a couple days before the wedding. But no, my screwed up mind blamed myself. If I had only been a better girlfriend to him, he would have never wanted to cheat in the first place. By the time I woke up the next morning, my mind was even telling myself that if I wasn't a freak humantaur, he wouldn't have cheated. It was in this period of self-loathing that I had to travel to mother's house and tell her that the wedding we had planned for so many months and spent so much money on was now off. And it was all because her freak, no-good, humantaur of a daughter wasn't good enough to please her man to keep him from wanting to cheat with some stupid bimbo.

Before I had a chance to get dressed to make the four-legged walk of death to mother's house, I was awakened by a loud banging at my door. I heard the keys jiggling and rattling in the knob as well. I knew it was Michael. He was the only one besides myself that had keys to my place. He couldn't get inside. I had barricaded the door from the inside with a chair pinned up against the door. I had prepared just for this scenario where Michael would come back trying to give another story about how he really wasn't cheating. It was all just method acting in preparation for his new art film staring Brandy the slut. The banging got louder as Michael was obviously trying to force his way through the front door.

"Go away Michael or I will call the police!" Well, this was a real blast from the past, when Mark would get drunk and violent and try to force his way into my place. Great, another violent asshole you've created here, Summer! Keep it up! Lets see how many men you can ruin.

"Open za dar, bith!" I heard not Michael, but a woman's voice shouting at the door. The words were slurred as if she was drunk. I peeked out the window next to the door and saw Brandy's face. Oh great! I thought. Now I've pissed off the new girlfriend and she's here all drunk and ready to break down my door!

I went to the door which was being pounded so hard that it was about to be broken off its hinges. "Okay, just settle down, Brandy. No need for this. You can have that asshole. I don't want him anymore!" I yelled through the door waiting for the pounding to stop before slowly removing the chair and opening the door.

What I found standing before me when I opened the door was unbelievable. I saw Brandy's face, but what I hadn't seen in my limited view looking out the small window before was that there was another girl's face there too. This face I didn't recognize but it looked very similar to Brandy's face, almost like a sister. Not twins, but a sister, the faces where similar but different, yet, I seemed to somehow recognize something in the face. Strange that they were not twin faces though. I say that because I had never seen, or even heard, of anything like what I was seeing in front of me without it being twins. The two faces I saw were both on the same body!

I blinked a few times and used my upper right hand to rub my eyes as if I couldn't believe what I was seeing. But, the image in front of me remained. Two heads were both attached side-by-side to the same wide set of shoulders atop one single female body. I recognized the body as that of Brandy. But the extra head next to hers wasn't the only change. below her enormous set of silicone jugs was a second set of equally large tits. She (they?) now had four huge boobs in two pair covering most of the space on the front of their shared torso. The second set of boobs looked just as round and firm and huge as those above it, The extra set of jugs appeared to have large implants like the upper pair. I don't know if they really had implants or just appeared like they did, as I highly doubted that Brandy and her new... um... bodymate went out and had a second set of silicone bags implanted overnight. No, this type of transformation could only have occurred with the pill. But that didn't make sense. Brandy hadn't taken the pill, Michael had...

"Whath thth futh you do to me bith?" The head next to Brandy spoke with a strong slur, but I suddenly realized that it wasn't from intoxication, it was from the fact that this girl was having trouble speaking through the huge full lips on her mouth, as if she wasn't used to them, as if they had swollen up over night.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, struggling to understand.

Brandy's head spoke this time. "I think Mikey wants to know what you did to him?" Brandy's lips were exactly the same huge size and thickness as her new sister, but she had obviously had a lot more experience speaking through them, having enhanced them gradually over multiple plastic surgeries.

"Wait," I looked closer at the head sharing Brandy's now multibreasted body. "Mikey? As in Michael? Are you saying that this is Michael?" I didn't have to wait for Brandy to answer in the affirmative. I could tell just from the eyes. The face may have been female, the lashes long and lips impossibly full and thick, the voice high pitched, but the eyes were still unmistakably Michael's. "How...? How did this happen?" I knew it was the pill but this wasn't a double dick or even a humantaur, It had somehow fused Brandy and Michael together into the body of Brandy.

"Thath whath you need to tell me you stuthpid bith!" Michael said still struggling to talk through lips as big and full as his new sister's.

"I... I don't know." I spoke truthfully. "I can only speculate..." I thought for a moment of when Michael swallowed the pill. "...The sensation." I said in a whisper more to myself than Brandy or Michael.

"Senthanthion! Whath Futhing Senthathion?!" Michael raised up the left hand on their shared body in anger. It was the arm on the same side of their shared body that his head was on. Apparently Michael now controlled the left side of this new shared body and Brandy the right.

"When I yelled at you yesterday after you took the pill, that you two belong together. I felt this really weird sensation all through me. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. It was like...." I struggled to find the words to describe it. "Like I was absolutely sure that I was right. A sense of supreme satisfaction."

"You futhing bith! You need to undo thith!" Michael tried to step toward me aggressively but only staggered as Brandy's right leg stood solitary not expecting Michael to move their left leg so quickly towards me.

"I can't fix it." I said now starting to understand his slurred speech. Detecting Michael's rage I responded before he could reply. "I can't fix it because I don't know how I did it." I explained.

Michael continued to threaten and plead but I was speaking the truth. I don't know how I fused him and Brady together, much less how to get them back apart. I called mother over to my place. Upon seeing the new Brandy/Michael hybrid, it, if nothing else, made explaining why the wedding would not be gong forward a little easier. After I described the whole situation with Michael and Brandy to mother, I couldn't help but notice the look of smug satisfaction on mother's face. It was less of an I-told-you-so to me and more of a getting-what-you-deserve directed toward Michael.

Mother thoroughly looked the new conjoined pair over before Michael spoke. "I don't understand how this happened." Michael was speaking more slowly and deliberately now and as such was slurring his words much less. "The pill was supposed to give me the form I wanted. I sure as shit didn't want this," Michael said staring down at his four-breasted female body that he shared with Brandy. He was pointing with the one left hand that he controlled on their shared body. "I just wanted cocks!"

"Oh you'll be getting cocks alright." I said a little louder than the whisper I had initially intended.

Mother snickered slightly at my comment before saying. "I think in this case, it was what Summer wanted. At least, in that one moment after you swallowed the pill."

"But that's not how it works!" Michael responded immediately, now getting more proficient at speaking through his new thick lips even when excited. "That sister-in-law of yours loves everything cow, and she was turned into a cow with tail, udder, horns, milk and all!"

"Maybe not..." Mother said as she appeared deep in thought. "Maybe it was me all along. Just like the bum said."

"What do you mean, mother?" I asked not understanding, and knowing the others didn't either.

"The bum that gave me the pill... That gave me all the pills. He said 'it was always you, Winter'." Mother looked at each of us in turn before continuing. "What if the desires where always mine... with every transformation?"

"You wanted your daughter-in-law to be part cow?" I asked, referring to Joan's transformation.

"Not exactly, but I did want Grayson to be happy. He in turn wanted his girl to be happy, and being part cow is what made her happy. This last pill, the yellow one. I got for you as a wedding gift, because my deepest desire, despite all the arguments we may have had over the years and since you've been dating Michael, is for you to be happy, truly happy. And you, dear, sorry to say this but it is true, have no idea what you want or what will make you happy. But, for one brief moment, you were sure, completely sure, that being with Michael would not make you happy. In fact, the only thing that would make you happy is breaking it off with him romantically. Yet, you feared you couldn't do it. Feared that you didn't have the resolve to let love go. For one solitary moment you realized what you would need to be happy. You needed to let Michael go into the arms of another and out of your heart." Mother smiled at me and wrapped her six arms around me in a loving hug.

"Wait," Michael interrupted our tender moment. "So because she doesn't have the strength to 'let love go,' I get fucked?" Michael shook the head on the left side of their body. He tried to stand up quickly to make a dramatic point but only lurched forward as Brandy was unprepared for Michael's attempt to stand suddenly. "No! No way, Summer, you, or Winter, or whoever, you need to harness your deepest desires and get me back to normal!"

"I'm afraid deepest desires can't be manufactured like that, my dear Michael." Mother said to him again with a hint of smug satisfaction. "Besides even if it could, it wouldn't matter, the pills only add, not take away. That is what the bum told me back when I received that very first pill so long ago."

"Don't take away?!" Michael's growing desperation was making his voice even more high pitched than it was already from being female. "It fucking subtracted my whole body!"

"No!" My mother quickly corrected. "It gave you a new one!" Mother held out her uppermost left hand towards Brandy's face, stroking it slightly on the cheek. "And I hope for Brandy's sake at least, one you will make better use of." Brandy smiled back at mother in response to her touch before mother continued talking to the head controlled by Michael. "But no, dear Michael, you are stuck in this body, forever."

Michael went back and forth from demands that Mother or I change him back to pleas, and tearful expressions of regret, and threats. But as mother had told him, neither she nor I had any way of changing him back. Michael did manage over the following weeks to convince me to try calling for the bum again in hopes of getting a new pill. I had no more success in finding him than I did the first time. Michael even managed to convince Mother to call for the bum's return again. He did not reappear. Either the bum was not listening or mother's heart wasn't into truly reaching him, but either way, no new pills arrived.

Michael looked into surgical separation options as well only to learn there were none, He and Brandy sharing all organs from the shoulders down made sure that they would be sharing the same body for life. Still, I felt sympathy for Michael. Despite all of his cheating, and manipulating and lying, I still loved him. I couldn't stop loving him. Once he was one half of a conjoined woman, I was no longer romantically interested in him. I was not sexually interested in any woman, much less the body of the one with whom he had been cheating on me. But, I still cared for Michael on an emotional level and as a friend even if romance was no longer an option for us.

More of Michael's lies came to light in the following weeks. Brandy had not been a caterer or stripper. She was in fact an escort. An escort that Michael had purchased to have sex with on more than one occasion in the past. He even used money that I had given him to purchase her services. Money I had given him for items he claimed to need for his art films. He had fallen for her and claimed that he could take care of her for life after he was transformed into having two cocks so that his art films, or rather porn films, would make him a millionaire.

Both he and Brandy were naive enough to believe it. They really did belong together. I'm not sure if Michael ever truly believed he would make millions or just hoped he would and told Brandy as much to get her to come along on the ride with him. One thing for sure, was that Michael had wanted two sets of cock and balls from an early age and to use them in his dream profession of porn producer and star. It was when he had heard of the stories of how Mother had transformed father and how Grayson had transformed Joan, that he came up with his idea for getting the dual cocks and dream job. Regrettably, I don't think Michael ever truly loved me. I was merely what he saw as a means to an end. Learning of his deceptions didn't change my feelings for him though. I still loved him. Now only as a friend, a sister. Michael may still be using me. He doesn't have many people that care about him, especially now that he too is a freak.

Michael was right about that. Him being a freak has brought us closer together, as friends and sisters if not romantically. He was wrong in his assurances to Brandy that she could give up being an escort. Now that Michael didn't have me and mother to support him, and his art films were still no more successful than before, partially as I grew to understand, because he had no skill whatsoever in making them, even by the low standards of porn producers.

Brandy, on the other hand, was a skilled escort. Maybe not a millionaire, but she did know how to please men. That, of course, was about the only thing she knew how to do. Brandy wasn't exactly the smartest of girls, but she was sweet... Well, whorish but sweet. Of course, now that Brandy was only one half of a conjoined pair, it did limit the clientele to those interested in the conjoined look, or more specifically, the conjoined bimbo look. And, it didn't help Brandy that her siamese sister, Michael was a little less enthusiastic in their job as an escort than Brandy was.

I did feel badly for Michael, who often perceived his conjoinment with Brandy as a prison. Brandy, strangely, did not seem much affected by the conjoinment. I guess someone who had been through so many plastic surgeries, only so saw the conjoinment as the latest of many bodily changes she has undergone over the years.

About six months after the changes to Brandy and Michael and the cancellation of the wedding, I allowed Michael and Brandy, or 'Mandy' as I sometimes called them collectively, to stay at my place until they got back on their shared feet. Seems Brandy had lost a long-time and wealthy client due to Michael's continued unwillingness to participate in the sexual activities that their escort service usually required at the end of the dates.

"I will dress up in these ridiculous outfits and have dinner with these assholes while they spend most of the night fondling our tits, but I'm not going to suck their cocks, no way!" Michael would say in an ongoing argument the two would have.

"It's part of the job, Sis." Brandy told Michael matter-of-factly. "They don't pay the big money just for our thrilling conversation." Brandy had started calling Michael 'sis' or 'sister' a few months earlier. It was part of Brandy's marketing campaign for their escort service, something about the thrill of having two sisters at once. Even though it was pretty apparent that they weren't really sisters. Despite the feminine face and the huge lips, Brandy and Michael's faces didn't really look all that much alike, at least not to the point of being twin sisters. But then I had noticed that right from the start. Though, I guess to some of their clients with that fantasy, the lack of exact similarity in their faces didn't seem to matter.

Even Michael's lack of interest, in contrast with Brandy's slutishness was thrilling to some of their customers. But at the end of the night, they wanted Michael to eagerly suckle their cocks just as much as they wanted Brandy to.

"It's bad enough these losers are fucking my pussy," Michael continued.

It's my pussy too!" Brandy quickly corrected.

"But..." Michael continued as if not even hearing Brandy. "No way am I going to suck on their fat disgusting smelly cocks!"

"You will!" Brandy demanded. "We aren't going to live at Summer's place any longer than we have to. I have a 2 PM appointment for a gang bang. Three gentlemen, We both suckle one cock while another of the two fucks us from behind. first in our pussy then in our anus."

"Well," I said with a smile. "Looks like you got those multiple cocks you always wanted."

Brandy's face brightened with laughter at my comment while Michael's face remained deadly serious "Not funny, Summer, not funny!" Michael said.

"I thought it was kinda funny, Sis." Brandy commented, still chuckling.

"You be quiet, Brandy." Michael still insisted on calling Brandy by her name and not 'sister.' Michael in fact, hated the idea of being called 'sis,' 'sister,' or 'Mandy,' or anything that reminded him that he was a woman, or at least half of a woman. Yet, with four breasts each as large as his head and a vagina between their shared legs, it was hard to deny that he was anything but a woman now.

"No!" Brandy scolded Michael as they got dressed for their 2 PM gang bang clients. "I told you a million times, don't pull it on like a pair of pants, gather it up first and then glide it gently over our legs." Brandy was referring to the left leg of the pantyhose that they were putting on, or attempting to put on, as a team.

"I don't see why we need this nylon crap. All it does is run anyway." Michael said as he followed Brandy's instruction and gently glided the pantyhose up their left leg.

"That's just because you are too rough with it. It is a gentle fabric and you need to stop being so rough." Brandy continued to scold her bodymate on his lack of fashion sense. "Besides I told you, clothes are all part of it." Brandy continued to instruct as she pulled the right leg of the pantyhose on to her side of the body before pulling it up to their shared waist were the top of the pantyhose rested just below their lower pair of boobs. "One of these three guys happens to have a nylon fetish. Every part of the date is important, the clothes, the dinner, the dancing, the sex, everything,"

"It's really not," Michael countered. "It's all about the sex. That's all these smelly bastards want." Michael reached around to find Brandy's hand so they could clasp their custom made four-cupped bra shut.

"Yeah, if you are a street walker!" Brandy said while helping her bodymate pull the tight, form-fitting blouse over their massive four breasts.

I simply shook my head and continued to listen to them. I actually loved listening to the two of them. I actually think that the two of them were starting to get along quite well considering they were sharing the same body all the time. As for me, I had moved on as well. While Mandy slept a conjoined sleep on my living room sofa after a hard night as an escort culminating in a gang bang where I'm sure Michael, willingly, if reluctantly, participated in his new profession. I slept next to my new man in my bedroom.

Like one member of Mandy's gang bang trio, My boyfriend Pete was also a nylon lover. I wore my four-legged pantyhose and my high heels to bed, and nothing else. This would drive Pete wild, to see me walking towards him as he lay on the bed, seeing my six breasts bounce and jiggle as I approached him in my four-legged walk in high heels, the dangling breasts on my lower torso smacking against the backs of my front legs, all encased in nylon.

He would reach out with his sexy muscular arms and grab the back of the thighs of my front legs. His arms were covered in full-sleeve tattoos similar to Mark's, except Pete was never rough. He had a very gentle touch despite his muscular arms. He would run his hands softly up and down my nyloned front legs, unstraping my front heels and gently slipping off my front pair of shoes. He would run his hands slowly back up my front legs to a point where they would met the underside of my lower torso. He would cup my dangling lower-torso breasts with his strong hands and firmly but gently caress.

He would stand to caress each of my six breasts on my upper torso in turn before gently guiding each and every one of my six upper-torso nipples into his mouth. He would pull down my hose, exposing my front vagina, playfully rubbing my front clitoris in his fingers. Pete did not have the stamina that Mark had, but unlike Michael, Pete did not simply pass out after ejaculating into my front pussy. He would continue to squeeze and suckle my ten breasts until he was able to become erect a second time. He would move to my hindquarters and slowly pull the nylon of my four-legged pantyhose down past my horse tail, gently grasping my horse tail in his hands as I playfully tried to flick his strong chest with a swish of my tail. He would hold my tail, not allowing me to flick him mercilessly with it as I always playfully liked to do. Brushing my horse tail to one side he would enter my back sex just as he had previously entered me from the front. He would thrust from behind as I would use my four hands to squeeze my own upper-torso breasts as he did so. Until I would feel his cum shooting into my rear sex just as it had minutes earlier into my front pussy.

And instead of going to bed while I masturbated, Pete would join me in the hot shower and wash my hindquarters while gently shampooing the hair on my horse tail. I would turn around in my spacious shower and hug him tightly, pressing my six soapy and lathered tits over his muscular body under the hot water. I wrapped my four arms around him and told him that I loved him. I did love him. And I hoped that maybe this time, he was the One. But, I was willing to wait, willing to let love happen rather than chasing it down, fearing to let it go.

As I lay in bed next to my new man, hearing him quietly snore, his muscular and tattooed arms draped over my many upper-torso breasts, I looked lovingly at him and decided that tomorrow I would get my arm tattooed as well. Not four full sleeves, not even one full sleeve, there was only so much torture I could bestow on my mother after all. No, I would just get one small and very feminine tattoo on one of my four arms. A small bit of writing wrapped in an artistic drawing of a horse's tail. And that one word tattooed on my upper arms will say "Winter." For despite all the disagreements, she is my protector and the woman I love more than anyone.

I have invited mom for dinner tomorrow. It is the first time she will meet Pete. She may find something wrong with him. It wouldn't be the first time she'd found fault in a man of mine. But maybe if she is right about her mother's intuition, it will tell her that I chose correctly this time. But love him or hate him, I personally am still happy to know that tomorrow... Winter is coming.

Back to multibreast story page

© 2019