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Mable had finally gotten the keys to her new house. She had been house hunting for months with little luck. Eventually, she stumbled upon a nice old farmhouse at a good price. The sellers accepted her offer, and within a few weeks, she had been given the keys. Mable spent all day moving her things into the house and setting them up. She had previously lived in a small apartment, so there wasn’t much to move. After a hard day's work, she was finally done though, and she got tucked into bed for the night.

The house was old and big. It creaked ominously during the night as she tried to get to sleep. A couple of times, she could have sworn she had heard footsteps downstairs. She convinced herself it was nothing though, and eventually drifted off to sleep. Mable woke up to rays of light shining through the cracks in her blinds. She sat up, slipped on a pair of shorts and a robe. Then she walked downstairs. When she got into the living room, she did a double-take though. 

Sitting directly in the center of the room was a large cowbell with an accompanying collar. The bell looked old and tarnished, like some kind of artifact from when this house was still being used by farmers. How had it ended up in the middle of her living room though she wondered. Maybe those footsteps she thought she heard in the night really had been real… Mable didn’t want to think about it. She stared fixedly at the bell.

It was kind of cool, however it got here, she thought. She approached it and squatted down next to it. Bits of brass still shone through the tarnish in places. They gleamed gently in the morning sun. She reached out and touched the bell. It felt oddly warm, as if it had just been pulled out of a sauna. She caressed the old leather collar it was attached to. The collar seemed too small for a cow, but it looked like it might fit a person. Suddenly, she wanted to put it on. Just to see what it would be like, she told herself.

Mable lifted the bell. It was heavier than it looked, but not unmanageable. She undid the clasp of the collar and slipped the ends around her neck, then re-did the clasp. It fit snuggly as if it had been custom-made just for her. She let the bell hang from her. As she moved side to side on her feet, the bell clanged softly… pleasantly… Mable liked the way it felt. That was when the changes started.

Mable felt an odd sensation in her chest. She had never been particularly busty, but her breasts felt awfully tight under her robe. She undid the sash of the robe and slipped out of it. Her breasts looked… bigger? It was somewhat hard to tell with the large bell hanging over the top of them. Then she noticed their movement. They seemed to be expanding! She watched in amazement as they engorged themselves, pushing the bell up higher and higher as they did. A feeling of pressure began to mount inside of them. They were beginning to feel... full?

Mable had never felt this feeling, and it was getting uncomfortable. She grabbed at the tight skin of her ever-growing breasts, noticing how sensitive they had become. Rubbing them felt good. She was getting extremely horny from the sensation of touching them. If only that pressure would stop mounting. She massaged them, praying for release, and gently moaning. Mable reached out to her nipples and began to tug on them. Instantly, a jet of milk erupted from both tits, painting a nearby wall. This sent Mable over the edge, and she orgasmed as she continued to milk her massive tits. She moaned louder, but the moans now sounded more like the moos of a cow. She was so focused on her breasts that she hadn't even noticed the horns that had sprouted out of her head. 

The milk began to slow to a trickle as the pressure subsided. Mable lay on the floor in a puddle of milk, recovering from the explosive orgasm she had just had. At first, she had been worried about living in such an old house, but Mable now knew she was going to love every milky minute of it.