Your wife, Barbra, has been reclusive since her last time on a walk in the fields. You can't understand because whatever happened couldn't have been that bad.

You sit down for Dinner, across from Barbra, and ask her, "Hun, what has gotten into ya? We've barely seen each other since that there walk of yours out in 'em fields."

Barbra finishes chewing her bite of steak and says, "I'm fine dear, j-just adjusting."

You tilt your head and ask, "Adjusting to what, pretty face?" Then, you notice, her shirt is stained right above her nipples.

Barbra abruptly drops her fork and crosses her arms, covering her lactating chest. Barbra flushes red with blush and involuntarily exclaims, "Moo!"

You exclaim, "Dear Jesus! What the hell has gotten into you, Barb?

Barbra nervously says, "S-Sneed... I- It's the feed, Sneed. I tried some and..." Her tail rips through her pants, tearing them up and revealing her naked bottom.

You get up from your chair, look Barbra in the eyes, and tell her, "I don't give a rat's ass if you are some kinda satanic mutant, Barbra. If that there feed did something to ya, we'll work through this together. After all, you're still that same damn purdy girl I met at church."

Barbra blushes surprised at how accommodating towards her condition. She lets loose her arms and hugs you tight. Her backed-up milky breasts press against your chest. Barbra says, "Sneed... it's my chest. I need relief, Sneed!"

You