#breakneck improv like this blows my mind

[imustbeamermaidrango]

Freestyle: Harry Mack | LEEN | Beardyman

BONKERS!!!

#freestyle rap #harry back #beardyman #LEEN #breakneck improv like this blows my mind #grinning

[aquietwritingcorner]

Writers Month Day 11: Glass/Royalty AU Word Count: 2013 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K Characters: Olivier Mira Armstrong, Captain Buccaneer, Major Miles, Philip Gargantos Armstrong, Mama Armstrong Warning: NA Summary: Princess Olivier Mira Armstrong is not interested in finding a husband. Her parents throw a ball for all the eligible men anyway. Buccaneer just wanted a night out and was given the chance for one by a strange man in a brightly colored shirt who can apparently make limbs out of glass. Somehow, this all works out. Reverse Cinderella Crack AU Notes: ngl, this was hilarious to write. AO3 || ff.net

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 Glass/Royalty AU

 Once upon a time, there was a Princess. If there was one thing Princess Olivier Mira Armstrong hated, it was pointless balls. She sighed as she sat on her throne and looked out over the gathered crowd standing around in all their finery. Some were dancing, others eating, and just about all of them were looking for ways to improve their standing both with the court and with each other. And every available young man was looking for a way to get her attention.

She snorted derisively. If her father thought that throwing a ball and inviting every eligible young man in the kingdom was going to get her married off, then he was sorely mistaken. This was nothing more than a waste of everyone’s time. She didn’t even know why he was so hung up on her getting married. She had four other siblings to provide heirs for the throne. She’d just pick one of them when the time came.

“Olivier, dear, why don’t you go down and dance with some of your guests.”

Her father’s voice came from beside her, and she glanced over at him. He was sitting majestically on his throne and eyeing a particular group of men. Olivier followed his gaze and blanched. None of those spinless weaklings were her idea of a good man.

“They aren’t my guests at all, Father,” she replied. “You invited them here.”

“Hm, so I did,” he said, stroking his beard.

“But they all came for you,” her mother put in from the other side of her father. “You should at least have the grace to go walk among them and dance with a few of them. There are some smart matches down there.”

Olivier followed her mother’s gaze to a different group of men. They were worse than the other group.

“…you aren’t going to leave me alone until I do, are you?” Olivier asked bluntly.

Her mother looked over at her, a bit of twinkle in her eye. “Not in the least.”

Olivier sighed once again. “Fine. Miles!”

Miles appeared next to her, and Olivier heard her mother sigh. Olivier paid it no mind. They had told her she could pick her own attendant, and so pick him she had. Miles was a married man with two daughters, and loyal to a fault. Olivier knew he was trustworthy, even if her parents had been a bit skeptical.

“Olivier, how are you supposed to catch the eye of a man if you’ve always got your attendant with you?” her mother asked.

Olivier was already standing and attaching her sword to her side. “Mother, if they’re not paying attention to me by now, considering you two set this up specifically so I’d be the center of attention, then they’re obviously not interested.”

Her mother sighed, but Olivier paid it no mind. Instead, she left the dais and headed down the stairs to the floor, Miles right beside her.

“Miles, pick me the least obnoxious ones, please.”

“I’ll do my best, Princess.”

The next hour was spent dancing with man after man. Miles did a good job picking them out. They weren’t bad men—or they wouldn’t be with a few more years on them—but they definitely didn’t catch her interest. They were either, too conniving, too awestruck, or too spinless. Finally, she signaled to Miles that she needed a break, and he nodded. She walked away to the gardens, ignoring the guards that were there, and took a breath of fresh air.

And that was when she realized that she wasn’t alone.

Her head whipped quickly towards the intruder, and her hand rested on the pommel of her sword. But the other person didn’t advance on her, just held up his hands, showing he wasn’t armed.

“Hey, woah, it’s okay, I’m sorry!” the man said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He stepped out of the shadows. “I’m just a regular guy, see? Not a bear.”

Olivier looked him over. He was quite large, with a black mohawk and a thin mustache. What really caught her eye, though, was his hand. It appeared to be made of… glass?

“Who are you?” she demanded of him, not having drawn her sword, but still prepared to. “And why would you say you’re not a bear?”

“Oh, uh, well, you see, people tend to think I’m a bear a lot,” he said. “I’m not sure why, exactly, but it does come in handy most of the time.” He grinned. “Or at least, I think it does.”

Olivier relaxed a little. It appeared that this man was just a guest. And honestly, an amusing one so far. “I can see where that would be useful. Do you mind if I stay out here?”

“No, Princess,” he said. “Its your palace, your gardens.”

She hummed at that. He was right, of course, but she really had just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to go running off inside and tell everyone where she was. Miles was only one man, after all. He could only hold back so many people from disturbing her.

She leaned on a railing and eyed the man out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be content just to be here. “Is your hand made of glass?”

The man looked down at it. “Whole arm, actually. I’m not sure how it works, but that strange man gave it to me, and it’s been functional.”

Olivier raised an eyebrow. “Strange man?”

The man nodded. “Yeah. Wore really tacky and loud shirts. He said my other arm was too greasy and needed too many repairs, so he gave me this one for the night.” The man shrugged. “I don’t think it’d be much good in a fight, but it lets me eat, at least.”

Olivier turned more towards him, looking him up and down and evaluating the man. “…would you like to find out?” she asked, her finger tapping the pommel of her sword.

He apparently didn’t miss that, and his eyes lit up. “I’d love to test it. Are you sure you’re able to, Princess?”

She drew her sword and got into a stance. “The Armstrong royalty has trained in the art of self-defense for generations. If I can’t fight in a ballgown, then I’m no good to anyone.”

The man grinned and dropped into a stance of his own. “I can’t say I’ve done much fighting in clothes like these, but this should be fun.”

“Prepare yourself,” Olivier said, and that was all the warning she gave before she was charging at him.

The man was quicker than he looked, and he dodged to the side, narrowly missing her blade. He reached out to grab at her, and she spun away, hair and skirt flaring out. She wasted no movement, and charged at him again, aiming for that arm of his. This time, he raised it, and caught a glancing blow from her blade, letting it slide off. He pushed her off of him, and she paused for a moment. The man looked at his arm and grinned. Olivier figured that it must still be in good shape, and so she charged again. This time, he used the arm to block a direct blow, and when the glass appendage held up, he grinned more.

They continued this back and forth fighting dance, until the bells rang, and he turned, startled, just as her blade came down on his shoulder. He let out a bit of a pained sound then, and Olivier saw his arm suddenly sinking lower. The man cursed as his glass arm slid out of his sleeve. Olivier darted forward to catch it.

“Sorry,” he said, “Its been fun, but I gotta go.”

“Wait—you what?” Olivier said.

“Gotta run!” he said. “Thanks for the fight, Princess!”

The man was already moving away, heading through the gardens at a breakneck speed.

“Wait—your arm!”

“Keep it!” came the call.

“What was your name!”

There was no answer.

“Stop! What was your name! Come back here!”

But he was either too far away or was ignoring her commands. Either way, Olivier didn’t like it. Miles, who had been watching them, came out at her raised voice.

“Princess?”

“I want the man this arm belongs to, Miles,” she growled out. “I want to find him.”

Miles, for his part, didn’t even blink at the fact she was holding a working glass arm and that there was an armless man running around somewhere. He just responded “Yes, Princess,” and set to work.

It turned out that finding a one-armed man wasn’t that hard to do. However, finding a particular one-armed man was a lot harder. Olivier, Miles, and an unfortunately conspicuous royal entourage had made their way to every province, city, and town in the country with no luck. Olivier found herself getting more and more frustrated with each failure. How hard was it to find a big man with a black mohawk who was missing an arm?

Well, it didn’t help that many men who were missing arms dyed and cut their hair. Or that more than a few people tried faking having a metal arm.

The house they were rolling up on had to be the last house that existed, and as the carriage rolled up, several men stepped out. None of them, she noticed, were missing an arm. Still, they had the general look of the man, so she got out to ask them some questions. They bowed to her, and one made the offer of tea, but Olivier was in no mood.

“Tell me—is this everyone from your household?”

“Yes,” one replied. “This should be all of us.”

“And you’re sure there’s no one more?”

“Not in our house, your majesty.”

Something seemed off, and she narrowed her eyes. “You’re positive?”

There was an exchange of looks between some of the younger ones. Olivier rested her hand on her sword. “Well?” she demanded.

“…What’s going on?”

There was a new voice coming from the forest, and the entire party turned to see who it was. He was carrying a load of firewood, but the man was large, with a black mohawk, and a metal arm. And, Oliver was pretty sure she heard one of the guards that road with them flinch back and say something about a bear.

“You,” Olivier said. “You have a metal arm, correct?”

The man looked at them. “Yeah, up to the shoulder.”

“Your right arm?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Take it off.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Take it off.” She nodded to Miles, and he gestured for two of the other attendants to pull the glass arm from the carriage. “I want you to try this one on.”

The man blinked at her, and then grinned. “Alright,” he said, dropping his load of firewood. He reached up and took off his shirt, first, revealing all of his arm, and then pressed the releases that would detach his metal arm. Instead of falling to the ground with a clunk, he was fast enough to reach out and grab it before it hit the ground. He sat it on the dropped wood, and allowed the attendants to come closer and put the arm in. It clicked in, fitting perfectly, and he flexed it around. No one had even been able to get it to fit before now.

“Huh. It still works. I had wondered.”

“You’re the one from the ball. The one who fought with me.” Olivier said.

The man grinned. “Yes, Princess. I didn’t think you’d have this much interest in a handy man like me.”

“What’s your name?” she asked him.

“They call me Buccaneer.”

Olivier glanced at the house, the grounds, and the other men standing there. “Then, Buccaneer, how would you like to come back to the palace with me and become my husband?”

Buccaneer grinned again and reached out with his glass arm to take her hand and kiss it. “Princess, it would be my honor.

Olivier smiled back at him. “Good.”

And they lived happily ever after.

#writersmonth2021 #Olivier Mira Armstrong #captain buccaneer #Major Miles #Olivier x Buccaneer #fma #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma fanfic #fullmetal alchemist fan fiction

[eyebeastposts]

Whitney’s Miltank Training

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WARNING THIS STORY CONTAINS: Female Miltank TF, Weight Gain, and Lactation

An ordinary day at the Goldenrod City gym is disturbed when a strange trainer arrives to challenge Whitney to a battle and show her a new way of bonding with her Pokemon.

  Spurred by an uneventful day with a lack of challengers, Whitney busied herself with her duties as leader of the Goldenrod City gym. Walking the halls of her gym to check in on her trainers and their Pokémon, Whitney looked as outstanding as ever with her pink hair tied into a pair of ponytails. Her white shirt with pink stripes and blue short shorts were a staple of her wardrobe, conveying the comfort she felt as she traversed the place she called home.

  Reaching the gym’s main challenge room, Whitney pulled out one of her Pokeballs. Softly tossing the ball into the air released the creature inside. Stomping her hooves into the ground, Miltank announced her arrival with a cheerful cry. Swinging about the orb on her tail and the four teats on her belly, she turned towards her trainer. Embracing her Miltank with open arms, Whitney gave her a gentle pat on the head and let her fingers run along the black and pink bovine Pokémon’s nubby horns and flat ears.

  “How are you feeling today?” Whitney asked.

  “Mil-mil,” Miltank replied, a smile upon her face as she nuzzled her black nose against Whitney’s chest.

  “That’s great to hear. Since it doesn’t look like we have any challengers today, I can take all the time we want to spend together. You’re overdo for a good grooming, plus I want to try out some new battle strategies with you. Not to mention, it’s been a while since you were last milked.“

  “Whitney!”

  A gym trainer by the name of Victoria came bursting through the door. Like many of the other beauties of the gym, she had silky, blonde hair and wore a white tank top alongside a pair of black short shorts. Her usually calm demeanor was absent as she sprinted towards the bewildered leader. “A trainer just showed up,” she said, leaning against the wall to catch her breath.

  “That’s not out of the ordinary. Why did you come running all the way here?”

  “He’s not like the others,” Victoria replied. “There’s something about him that just seems off. I think he’s here for more than just a badge. That and he’s reaaaaaaly creepy.”

  “That’s a pretty rude thing to say.”

  Whitney and Victoria turned their heads towards the door to see that the voice came from a hooded figure. A grey cloak shrouded his form, with a belt of strange, black and white Pokeballs hooked around his waist. Shuffling up to the cautious girls, the figure threw back his hood to reveal a young male trainer with buzz cut, black hair and an eye painted across his forehead. Putting his hands together, he made a small bow towards Whitney.

  “I am sorry for the intrusion Ms. Whitney,” he said. “My name is Oko. You are taking challengers today, correct?”

  “Yes I am,” Whitney said, standing up straight to present herself as a gym leader. “I’d be more than happy to accept your challenge. So how many badges do you have?”

  “None.”

  “Oh so you must be a new trainer. I’m honored to be your first gym challenge.”

  “No, no, no, you’re far from my first. I’ve conquered many gym leaders already. I just haven’t taken any badges.”

  Whitney raised her eyebrow as she looked at Oko’s seemingly benign smile. “If you’re not going after badges, then why are you here?”

  “I am a self-proclaimed Pokémon trainer coach for lack of a better term. I go around to various gyms and test their leaders to see if they are worthy of their title. If they fail my challenge, I give them a chance to improve themselves through my special form of training.”

  “What are you trying to say about Whitney?” Victoria asked, stepping forward to protect her leader.

  “It’s alright,” Whitney said, holding up her hand to keep the defensive beauty back. “If what you say is true, then you want to challenge me, not for a badge, but to see if I’m good enough to be a gym leader?”

  “Precisely,” Oko replied, putting his hands together. “We’ll do a one-on-one Pokémon battle. If I win, I’ll put you through a short training session to improve your skills as a trainer by letting you grow closer with your Pokémon.”

  With a confident smile, Whitney placed her hand on top of her Miltank’s head. “Sorry to break it to you, but Miltank and I are nearly unstoppable.”

  “Mil-mil!” Miltank added.

  Oko’s smile grew into a sinister grin. “We will see. Shall we begin?”

  “Whenever you’re ready. Victoria, would you mind being the judge?”

  “Okay, but…are you sure about this Whitney?” Victoria asked, side eyeing Oko as he strolled over to the opposite side of the gym.

  “Don’t be so worried about it,” Whitney replied, stretching out her arms to loosen up for the battle. “He might be a little weird, but he sounds like he has good intentions. Besides, it’s not like as a gym leader I can refuse his challenge. It’ll be fine.”

  “If you say so,” Victoria begrudgingly replied, taking her place at the judge’s spot. “Trainers, call out your first Pokémon.”

  “You know who I’m picking,” Whitney said, her Miltank taking her spot on the field.

  “Excellent, I was hoping you’d pick that one,” Oko said, plucking up one of the Pokeballs from his belt. “I have just the opponent for you.”

  With a flick of his wrist, Oko tossed out his Pokémon. A Dusclops appeared from the flash of red light. Clenching its white fists, it turned its stout, grey body towards Whitney. The gym leader’s confidant attitude wavered under the ghostly Pokémon’s gaze, her feeling of uneasiness increasing as she beheld its pure black iris. Shaking her head back and forth to try and compose herself, Whitney stared down Dusclops, ready for whatever it and its strange trainer could throw at her.

  “Trainers, on your marks,” Victoria said, holding up her hands to signal Whitney and Oko. “Begin!”

  “Dusclops, use Brick Break,” Oko called out.

  With a nod of its head, Dusclops ran towards Miltank with its fists ready to strike.

  “I applaud you on your choice, but it takes more than type advantage to win a Pokémon battle,” Whitney replied, Dusclops mere inches from her Miltank. “Miltank, show him what you can do!”

  Miltank made an affirmative grunt as she side stepped the Dusclops’s fists. Leaping out of the ghost Pokémon’s attack, Miltank stomped her feet into the ground and let out a triumphant cry to try and intimidate the ghost Pokémon. Dusclops merely turned towards it, its black eye unblinking as it stared down Miltank.

  “Our turn now,” Whitney shouted out to help ease her Miltank’s nerves. “Show him the best we have. Use Rollout!”

  “Mil, Miltank!” Miltank confirmed, as she began running towards Dusclops. The bovine Pokémon fell forward as if it tripped, only to go spinning into a ball of pink and black. Whirling across the floor, it sped towards Dusclops with ever increasing speed. The rolling Miltank barely missed Dusclops, grazing the knuckles of its fist.

  “You…do know you’re supposed to hit the target right?” Oko asked, more out of concern then teasing.

  “Doesn’t have to be the first hit,” Whitney confidently replied. “The more Miltank rolls, the faster she becomes. You might be able to dodge for a little while, but eventually she’s going to hit her mark.”

  “An interesting strategy,” he commented, scratching his chin. “Let’s see how it works in practice.”

  Miltank continued to roll along the floor, picking up speed with each passing second. Despite its stone faced expression, Dusclops could only stand there and dodge each of the attacks. Though it tried to throw in a punch here and there, the damage it inflicted was minimal. As Miltank got closer to hitting her target, she caught glancing blows on the ghost Pokémon to slowly whittle down its stamina. Bruised and battered, Dusclops dropped to its knees. Unable to do much as Miltank reached max speed, it seemed like the fight had already been decided.

  “Sorry to end it so quickly,” Whitney began, already baring a victorious smile, “but I didn’t intend to hold back. Miltank, finish it off with one last Rollout!”

  Miltank sped towards Dusclops at breakneck speed. Seemingly accepting the inevitable, Dusclops stood perfectly still as the pink cow rolled ever closer. Making contact with Dusclops, Miltank pushed it across the room to slam into the wall. Whitney considered the sizable dent Miltank created a small price to pay for an overwhelming victory.

  “Dusclops, use Revenge!”

  Oko’s words turned Whitney’s triumph into dread. Turning towards the impact crater, she watched as Dusclops slowly raised up its hands. Before she could call out for her stationary Miltank to get out of the way, Dusclops sent its fists slamming down on her back. The impact created a crater twice the size of the hole in the wall. Running over to ground zero, Whitney peeked her head over the side of the hole to see her Miltank knocked out.

  “The winner is…Oko!” Victoria announced, holding up a shaky hand towards Oko.

  “I must say, it was an impressive display of strength,” Oko said, returning Dusclops to its ball and depositing him back on his belt. “However, you must always be aware of your opponent’s possibilities. Especially when they do something so odd as letting their Pokémon get hit so many times.”

  “Alright, you’ve made your point,” Whitney said, wiping away the tears forming around her eyes. Taking a moment to collect herself, she held out a Pokeball and returned Miltank to safety. “Let me get a chance to get Miltank healed up and we’ll start training as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, you won’t need her,” Oko said. “She can take a well-deserved rest while you go through the training.”

  The sting of a painful loss was overcome by the look of pure bewilderment on Whitney’s face. “How am I supposed to get better as a trainer if I don’t work with my Pokémon?”

  “By getting more in touch with your Miltank of course,” Oko said with a smile.

  “And I’m supposed to do that without her…how exactly?’

  “Well you see we just…ah, it’ll be easier just to show you.”

  Digging into his pocket, Oko held up a black Pokeball similar to the ones around his waist. The main difference was a large black eye in the center that seemed to stare right into Whitney’s soul. Mesmerized by the Pokeball’s gaze, she failed to notice Oko point the ball at her. Pressing the button on the side, Oko let loose a bolt of white energy from the ball that shot straight out at Whitney.

  Whitney crumpled to the floor as the bright light encompassed her. For a few moments, Whitney’s mind was a mush of feelings and sensations, simultaneously pleasurable and revolting. Watching her leader twitch on the ground, Victoria was paralyzed in fear of what to do while Oko continued to bathe her in the mysterious light. Just as quickly as the light came out, a quick click of the button was enough to shut off the beam and end Whitney’s spasms.

  “W-what did you just do to me?” Whitney asked, standing up on her wobbling legs.

  “You’ll see in a moment,” Oko said, keeping his eyes trained on her.

  “You won’t have a moment,” she said, trying her best to form her shaky hand into a fist. “Tell me what you’ve done to me or else I’ll MILLLLL!”

  Whitney clamped her hands around her mouth as she heard the familiar cry of her Miltank. Daring to open her mouth again, she tried to speak just to hear the same sound pass out of her lips. Letting out a few distressed cries towards Victoria for help let it sink in that her ability to speak had been replaced with the husky voice of her beloved Pokémon. At a loss for human words, she turned her attention to a pleased looking Oko.

  Whitney took a step towards Oko only to stop as she heard something begin to rip. Looking down, she watched her flat stomach begin to balloon out into a spherical potbelly. Breaking the seams of her shirt allowed her developing gut to freely hang between her legs. The rounded orb of fat turned a light cream color with four strange pink dots forming a square pattern in the center.

  Reaching down to try and push back in her bulging belly, Whitney let out a distressed moo as she glanced at her own fingers. Lifting her hands up to her face, she saw that her fingers had morphed together and hardened into three, hoof-like digits. Fumbling with her bovine fingers, she lifted up her swollen belly to see her feet had burst out of her shoes to show off their cloven hoof appearance.

  Letting her belly slam back down, she heard another tearing noise. Looking over her shoulder, she watched her shorts give way to the bright pink blubber being padded onto her rear. The fabric finally gave out as her butt grew as wide as her barrel-sized belly. Without anything in its way, a long tail grew out from above her rear and extended several feet. The tail hung just a few inches off the ground, leaving the black ball at the end to brush against the floor.

  “Miltaaank?” Whitney cried out to Oko, shuddering as more pink fat was packed onto the rest of her body to even out her hefty form.

  “Don’t worry, you’re nearly complete,” he replied.

  Waddling her widened hips towards the strange trainer, Whitney had to stop as she felt something emerge from atop her head. Grazing her hooves along her hair, she felt a set of nubby horns peeking through the pink strands. Moving her hooves away, she brushed up against her ears, feeling how they had flattened out to better match her other Miltank characteristics. Sliding her hooves off her flickering ears, her eyes focused on her nose turning pitch black as her lower face extended into a Miltank muzzle.

  “Change her back now!” Victoria demanded, as Whitney clutched her chubby face in shock of what she had become.

  “Why stop now?” Oko asked back, not even bothering to glance at Victoria. “She has nearly completed her transformation.”

  “She already looks like someone stuffed a Miltank into an under-sized t-shirt. What else is there?”

  A grin formed on Oko’s face. “The most prominent feature of a Miltank of course. You should know that outside of battle, Miltank are famous for producing quite the commodity.”

  Amidst Whitney’s constant mooing came the sound of what remained of her outfit being torn apart. The last few seams of her top gave way as her modest chest began to swell. Pressing her hooves into her growing mammaries, her digits flicked across her plumped up nipples. The sensations sent a shiver down her spine, a momentary feeling of pleasure overcoming her fear. Breasts reaching the size of ripe watermelons, she peeked past them to discover they weren’t the only things changing.

  The four dots along her stomach grew into long protrusions that matched the width and length of her nipples. Reaching down to her developing udder, all it took was a slight touch from her hooves to send the same feeling of euphoria through her body. As her nipples and teats became as long and thick as overstuffed sausages, white liquid could be seem forming at their tips. Continuously pressing her hooves against her tits and udder brought forth steady droplets of milk that splashed against the gym floor.

  “Hmmm, I might of overdid it a bit,” Oko commented, scratching his chin as Whitney continued to stimulate herself. “Oh well, at least she’ll get a good lesson out of this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be off.”

  With a polite bow, Oko turned to make his leave. He managed to get a foot out the door before Victoria ran up and grabbed his shoulder.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Victoria asked.

  “To other gyms of course,” Oko nonchalantly replied. “My services are needed across the world to help people attain a better relationship with their Pokémon.”

  “What about Whitney? You can’t just leave her like that.”

  “Oh don’t worry about it, she’ll turn back to normal…eventually.”

  “Eventually!?”

  “Calm down, shouldn’t be too long. However, if you really want to expediate the process, giving her a helping hand with her swollen teats might help.”

  Victoria’s hand slid off of Oko’s shoulder. “Wait, you don’t mean I need to-”

  “Like I said, it’s only if you want to change her back faster,” Oko said, walking outside of the gym. “Have a nice day.”

  Victoria’s blank expression of disbelief left her silent as she watched the mysterious trainer walk further away with each passing second. Turning back towards the gym, she saw her precious leader sitting on the floor, her hooves fumbling with her breasts and udder and slathering the floor with her milk. Realizing how bad it would look if someone were to come by and see Whitney in her strange state, Victoria made a split decision.

  “We have to go,” Victoria said, pocketing Miltank’s discarded Pokeball before running up to Whitney to help her onto her feet.

  “Mil-mil?” Whitney asked, slowly rising from the ground.

  “I’m taking you to your room,” Victoria replied, dragging the transformed leader away from the gym floor. “I’ll think of what to do with you when we get there.”

  Dragging Whitney down the hall with a trail of milk behind them, Victoria heaved a sigh of relief as she laid eyes on the door to Whitney’s room. Pushing the door with her shoulder, Victoria brought Whitney over to her bed. Setting the cow woman down onto the mattress, she paced around the room trying to think of what to do next.

  “Mil-Miltank,” Whitney called out, seemingly begging for Victoria to do something.

  “I know, I know,” Victoria replied, not having a clue what her leader was saying. “That freak said you’d change back, but I don’t believe him for a second.”

  “Miiilllll,” Whitney cried out, her hooves running across her plump breasts and leaking udder.

  Victoria understood at least some of what Whitney was trying to convey. Oko’s words stuck in her head, no matter how much she wanted to forget them. Looking at Whitney’s needy gaze, Victoria was forced to make a decision. “I’ll be right back,” she said, leaving the room.

  A few minutes later, Victoria returned with eight buckets hanging from her arms. The buckets were used for milking Whitney’s Miltank on a regular basis. As she carried the buckets over to the bed, Whitney’s eyes lit up. The gym leader’s panic was replaced with excitement, bouncing her pudgy form against the bed and sprinkling the floor with stray droplets of milk.

  “Get on the ground and get on all fours.” Victoria said, unable to look Whitney in the eye as she got everything setup.

  Whitney obediently did as she was told, practically belly flopping off of her bed. Crawling over to the middle of the room, she waited patiently as Victoria placed a bucket beneath her breasts. Reaching her hands towards Whitney’s boobs, Victoria had to tell herself multiple times that this was all for the sake of the woman she admired most and to uphold the reputation of the gym.

  Daintily grasping Whitney’s nipples, Victoria gingerly pulled on them. The drops of milk came out in a trickle that splashed inside the empty basket. Each pull brought with it a soft moo from Whitney, her body shivering each time Victoria released more of her milk. Getting a feel for Whitney’s odd body, Victoria increased the speed and strength of her milking. Whitney’s euphoric cries grew louder as the trickle of milk became a steady stream that gradually filled up the bucket.

  Filling the first bucket up to the brim, Victoria pushed it aside and dragged a second one beneath Whitney’s udder. Even after groping and yanking on Whitney’s tits, she found it hard to even touch the strange protrusions hanging off of the spherical belly. Urged on by her own sense of duty and a numerous needy cries from her leader, she grabbed the thick teats and started to pull.

  The flow of Whitney’s udder was like a raging river that poured out milk like a waterfall into the bucket below. Whitney began to scream in ecstasy, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as her body shook with pleasure. Filling up the second bucket in mere seconds, Victoria moved onto a third and then a fourth. The feeling of the meaty udders between her fingers never lost its surrealness to Victoria. At the very least, she took solace in the fact that Whitney was enjoying herself.

  For the longest hour of her life, Victoria sat on the ground in an attempt to milk Whitney dry. Her hands shifted between Whitney’s bosom and udder at regular intervals, her touch acting as a personal massager to the gym leader’s oversensitive teats. The sound of buckets overflowing with milk was interspersed with Whitney’s constant cries of euphoria. Whenever Victoria got a chance to glance at Whitney, she saw a look of pure bliss on the gym leader’s morphed face. Powering through her odd task and the thought of what the other trainers in the gym would say if they saw if they saw Whitney like this, Victoria managed to fill up all eight buckets.

  Pulling the last bucket away just before the milk spilled over the rim, Victoria took a look at what she had accomplished. Daring to dip her finger into one of the buckets, a small taste made it appear as just abnormally sweet Miltank milk. Lowering herself to the floor, she noticed that some of the swelling in Whitney’s chest had gone down and the protrusions along her stomach had started to recede.

  “It’s a start at least,” Victoria sighed, coming up to face Whitney.

  “Mmmm…mmmm,” Whitney struggled to speak.

  “What is it? You know I can’t understand-“

  “Mmmmooooooooorrrrreee,” Whitney moaned, the first semi-human sound she had made since her transformation.

  “Um, sure,” Victoria said, quickly getting up off the ground. Setting the buckets aside to figure out what to do with them later, she started walking out of the room in search of more containers to store Whitney’s milk. Looking back at her gym leader, she watched her lazily play with her teats in anticipation of more stimulation. Leaving her expectant leader in the room, Victoria continued her task, using her time alone to think of what she would say to Whitney about their little experience once everything was over.

#eyebeast #whitney #miltank #cow #tf #transformation #wg #weight gain #lactation

[doomelem-aus]

First encounter of the Winoanan Kind

Win/Laura - Can’t stop, won’t stop doubting whether or not I should let my guard down

Laura sat in a little round table, a bit aways from the dining hall and the Research Department. This little tiny courtyard in the Academy, she found this spot as a hideaway from the rest of the world.

She loved her job and loved her coworkers (for the most part). But sometimes, she just wanted to get away from the office, from her colleagues, from the business of supporting a team of elite warriors trying to protect humanity from a terrible Scientist bent on domination.

So it was nice to get some fresh air. The fresh air also helped her think clearly and solve the most difficult problems. Right now, and for the past few weeks, she’s been rolling around a particular problem in her head. That problem, was called Win.

Winoanan McCarthy. Elementor of Air, Son of the Water and Air Elementors of the previous generation. Famous for his speed and accuracy in battle, and his speed and accuracy in his dating life. He was known as a heartbreaker and a lady-killer, although she wondered how much of those rumors were actually true and how much were embellished. Especially considering how … fake he came off sometimes. Sometimes she’d walk down the hall and she’d hear how he’d chat up some of the younger staffers that were around his age, talking about his triumphs. But it sounded as if he was putting up a front. Like he was trying to portray this image of someone who had it all together and who had it all, period.

She was glad that she hadn’t been at the Academy for very long when she heard about his reputation before flirting and charming. When she first came here, a few years ago, she only heard about the Air Elementor they were focused on. Her team was to conduct research that would not only help him improve on the battlefield, but would contribute to the success of the future Air Elems.

And then her team went to visit a training session to see Win in action.

He walked into the stadium and changed into a real saunter once he noticed that he had an audience. He was pretty, she had to admit that. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, sharp jaw.He gave her team a casual wave, as casual as someone who was trying to look cool. Unfortunately, she really did think he looked cool at that point.

But then he started practicing. He was leaping in the air, sending gusts of wind, razor sharp gales and dizzying tornadoes at his sparring partner, one of the Teachers of the Air Element. The teacher, armed with a staff, sent blow after blow to him, and Win dodged, countering with his own attack each time. Even after the teacher clearly stopped going easy and got a couple good jabs himself, Win still recovered quickly. His movements were graceful, sharp, moving masterfully at breakneck speed. At one point, he spun around, briefly facing the team for a second before landing a hit on the teachers chest, and she could see the concentration and focus on his face. She would come to recognize that look as a sign that he was at his greatest; not focused on the audience or the crowd or anyone but his target. Not putting on a show, but really doing what he came to do.

Occasionally, she would pass him in the hallway, and she wouldn’t expect him to really recognize her. They were introduced in the Research Lab later on that same day, but for all she knew, he probably just saw her as another one of the Researchers who helped him. On one particular instance, she bumped into him (her alarm didn’t go off, how nice) when running to work. Flustered, Laura had scrambled to grab her papers and her bag and mumbled a few apologies to the Elementor.

She heard him chuckle, and looked up.

Laura was right about the pretty part, as his sky-blue eyes took her in.

“Here, I’m sorry about that.” He handed her a few of her pens.

Laura tore her eyes away, forcing herself to finish grabbing the rest of her stuff. “Thanks” she mumbled. She couldn’t tell if the mirth in his eyes was genuine or just mocking her, trying to come off cool again. She ran down the hall, trying her best not to look like the high school nerd who was late to class (which was never, ever her, mind you) and ignored the way his chuckle made something inside her go fuzzy.

Laura sighed, as she put the remaining half of her sandwich down on the stone table she sat at. It’s kinda hard to enjoy a lunch if your stomach is filled with butterflies. Not butterflies. A strange sensation, a result of an emotional response from recalling a mildly stressful social situation. That’s what it was. Science.

Packing up her lunch bag, she entered the hallway. The Win Problem did not end with embarrassing herself like that, unfortunately. It got compounded tenfold a few weeks ago…

Laura and a few other Researchers went a little farther across the boundary than usual to try out a technique with Win. It took a little convincing, he had spent the most of the past few days either on Missions or training, so he was a little worn. Even he was a little of wary of taking them, but that far past the boundary but incidents didn’t usually happen that often out there. Plus, they had Win.

And they were extremely thankful that Win was around, when they heard the ugly roar of an Earth Creature as it charged through a nearby bush. Laura’s coworkers got a head start, being a few feet away from her, writing notes down, but she was just about to lose the Creature when it leapt and landed right in front of her. Trapped, she looked around, trying to find something to defend herself. It’s milky green eyes were unsettling as they tracked her movements, set in a globe-like body made of blackened vines, branches, and oozing sludge. It was about the size of a carriage, and looked like it had plenty of room for her behind those rows of jagged, sharpened teeth. Going against her emergency training, she closed her eyes, and held out the branch as the Creature lunged for her.

She braced for impact, but didn’t expect to be shoved backwards. She landed on her back, and blinked. There was Win, standing between her and the Creature, having shoved her back. Laura tried to gain her bearings as she leaned against the tree she landed on, watching dazed as Win punched and kicked and dodged the Creature’s attacks.  After a particularly well placed hit, the Creature stumbled on it’s back, and Win turned around to her.

“Are you okay?” Win asked, eyes full of concern, and still blazing from the heat of battle.

“You’re… really good…” She was too dizzy to realize how embarrassing she sounded, but she really was impressed by how fast he took that thing out. Almost a little too fast.

He got closer, and she vaguely noted how he checked her over for wounds. Her eyes picked up movement behind him, and it took a few seconds for her eyes to focus.

The Creature was not totally out for the count, and had finally rolled back onto it’s feet. It’s globe-like eyes were set on Win, and it looked angry.

“Creature…” Laura’s voice was only a whisper.

Win, who was so focused on her, paused. “What-”

“Creature!” This time Laura was able to convey the urgency in her voice.

The Air Elementor turned around just in time to block the Creature’s charge with a gust of wind.

After some point in the battle, Laura had migrated to the other side of the tree, feeling marginally more safe. She felt strange leaving Win all alone, but also felt strange just sitting there. Also, she had no idea how to fight a living, breathing, teeth-gnashing Earth Creature so she figured it would be better if she stayed out of the fight. Didn’t want to give Win more trouble. What she could do, she thought, was yell out her analysis of how to fight the thing. May as well try.

“A razor sharp gust could really hurt that things eyes!” Laura inwardly winced. She really didn’t sound all Scientific and badass when she was slightly panicked.

“What!?” Win looked at her, having thrown a punch and rounding back for another one.

“That thing has huge eyes, why not try to hurt it that way?” She really needed to work on her battle-side mannerisms.

Win threw her an irritated look as he leapt against a tree trunk, using it as a springboard to leap over the Creature, dodging a hit from one of it’s huge, stumpy feet.

She was sure that he didn’t really want fighting advice from a Researcher who was currently hiding behind a bush, but couldn’t hurt to try. Plus, those giant globe like eyes looked almost like stones set into that bulky Creature’s body. Being a relatively new design of the Scientist’s, the Elems hadn’t directly encountered them much yet, and the Researchers had only recently gotten ahold of a specimen to examine. On first glance, it didn’t look like a tender spot, and Win might not try it on his own.

“I don’t mean any offense but” Win was cut off by another hit,”I am kinda too busy to take advice right now... “ The Creature chomped at his hands after he missed a punch to its nose. “...But maybe later we can discuss things!” Win was moving so fast, it was hard to imagine how he could be thinking strategy at that moment.

Laura usually wouldn’t argue with that logic but it seemed as if Win was uncharacteristically tiring. She had seen him go hours fighting much harder than this with much tougher foes. He needed some sort of help.

The Creature lunged for Win, and held him against a tree. It’s massive, tree-trunk like limbs held his legs down, and he struggled to hold its gaping jaws back as it tried to swallow him.

For a split second, she saw Win’s eyes flick to her face, just beyond the Creatures head. He looked back at the Creature, and in a flash of movement, he released one of its jaws to jab the monster in the eye.

The Thing groaned, the sound reverberating in its body as it backed away from Win, almost curling up in pain. As Win followed up with more hits, he glanced at Laura, his face somewhere between an apology, a thank you, and irritation.

The battle only last a few minutes more, with Laura shouting out her analysis, and Win taking some recommendations and casting her an exasperated look at others. Occasionally, the recommendations dissolved to a few verbal jabs from Win, teasing her about never having fought, and she’d throw one back about how he never researched or studied like she did, She had never done hand to hand combat and some of her ideas were a little uneffective, but still. She had a pretty good track record built up in those few minutes.

The Creature had really started to wear out after a few good jabs to the eyes, but had grown desperate to defend itself as it was losing. A few more hard-earned jabs to the eyes Win was gaining the upper hand. Laura couldn’t help but marvel a little at the skill and precision that the Air Elementor possessed. Even right now, when he was tired, he was still, as far as she could tell, an amazing fighter. A Warrior.

One last hit to the eyes, and the Creature made a sound between a squeal and a moan, and turned tail to run back in the direction it came from. Win [insert stuff here about how the Creatures turn to ash or poof or something when they’re destroyed]

Laura had to suppress the urge to pump her fists and cheer like a spectator at a  victorious sports game. Win walked over, knocking dust of his uniform. As she got closer, she could see the weariness in his face, but also the relief that the fight was over.

“So… you’re alright?”

Laura blinked. “Yeah.. of course. I’m not the one who just battled thing… But that was-”

“So what was that?

Laura tried not to look confused.”What?”

“What was all of that? I mean, you did help, but shouting out like that? Giving me suggestions? I get that you want to try and help and all, but you could have really distracted me from-”

She couldn’t really believe her ears. “I was trying to help, yes, and I did. You were the one not taking advantage of a weak spot.”

Win looked a little affronted. “But that’s not what I meant-”

“I know that you’re the Elementor and I’m a Researcher, but you’re the one who needs to worry about distractions. I knew of a weak spot, and that fight seemed to be taking awhile, and you looked kinda tired-”

“Tired!?” Win looked as if someone popped his balloon. “Tired or not, it’s not your responsibility to shout out while I’m fighting, I was trying to focus on protecting you and you were supposed to just-”

Laura crossed her arms, squaring her shoulders in a hope to hide how agitated she felt. “My shouting helped you, end of story. Yes I could have distracted you, but in the end, that distraction helped.”

Win blinked at her, clearly not expecting her to be so forceful. She didn’t even expect it to be honest.

Well, she was on a roll. “I’m sorry if I’m not one of those young staffers that kiss your feet or flatter you or stroke your ego, but I did what I thought needed to be done.” For extra emphasis, she turned on her heel, and started heading back for the Academy.

Win’s expression before she turned her back bounced from outrage to shock and back again. It was a few anxious seconds of setting regret until she heard his boots trudge across the ground to catch up with her. Win could be heard walking behind her.

“I’m not looking for you to ‘stroke my ego’ or ‘kiss my feet’... I was just trying to warn you before you go and boss some other Elem around during a fight… you could-”

She let some attitude into her voice. “-I could actually help them?”

Win tutted. “You could actually distract them or draw attention to yourself and get you both killed.”

She looked at him. His expression didn’t have any of the outrage from before, and in fact, almost looked playful. He must have been happy to have won that little exchange.

She turned back to the front, fighting the urge to smile at seeing his usual expression return to his face. Whatever, she still manage to help him.

The Win Problem, as she called it, still wasn’t in full swing, even at that point. That was just the beginning really. Seeds planted.

(For editing later)

After they had gotten back to the Academy, she went through a full round of medical examinations, and interviewing by Vice President Velezquez to make sure that they got record of what this Creature does, and to make sure she wasn’t traumatized by the event. (She was just glad it wasn’t the President who interviewed her, that man was intimidating.) She was sitting in her Infirmary bed, VP Velezquez having left a bit ago, when she heard a knock on her door. Win appeared, and asked about how her condition. He seemed as if something was bothering him, as if he was trying to decide to play himself flirty and cocky as usual or all business like he was at the edge of the Boundary. She answered his questions and he listened with rapt, almost intense focus. He seemed to be studying her answers, and maybe even her mannerisms. And after a few seconds of answering all his questions, he smiled that playful smile, but his eyes held something she couldn’t place. As someone who had spent a lifetime studying and thought she could read him pretty easily, this dug under her skin a bit. He left with a Get Well Soon, vanished just as he had arrived.

His visits didn’t stop after that. He came to her office a couple of times, saying that he was checking up on her, and the second time he brought a small stuffed pterodactyl, probably having noticed her pterodactyl poster above her computer, with a small little “Thank You” card attached to the wing. Each time he came, he got harder to read, and simultaneously got less uptight and more playful. His bright blue eyes would shine would mirth, and he’d flashed that smile of his. As someone who prided herself on an almost clinical approach to analyzing men, this was not something she would admit to enjoying.

Even now, as she walked back to the Lab, she was thinking about him. She was not supposed to be thinking about him. She rounded the corner of the cubicles clustered up, and as she sat down at her desk, she would not wonder if he would visit today.

As Laura tried to start her notes on their latest experiment, her pen ran out. She opened her desk drawer, and there sat the little stuffed pterodactyl, the one that she shouldn’t have kept, and lied to Win about giving to one of the Staffer children.

Maybe she should start writing notes and conducting research on how to stop this Winoanan Problem.