Rangiku Bleach Cow

Rangiku Matsumoto was a self-described lazy woman. It was a point of pride that she aimed to do the least amount possible to enjoy the most out of life. Some people were ambitious, hard-working, really driven, and good for them, but for herself, she was happy staying in her position as a lieutenant to someone who was indebted to her and wouldn’t push her too much.

Well, she would have been happy staying that way, but then the Soul Society got a new Soul King, or something like that. She wasn’t entirely clear on the specifics, but the reality was that there were no so such things as captains or squads or lieutenants, and so she was out of a job.

She puffed up her cheeks and let out a really long sigh. What a pain. She should go check on Hitsugaya and see how he was taking it, but that’d be more work. He was a man now; she was sure he could find another job. But that was the problem wasn’t it? It wasn’t clear what other jobs there were. The new Soul King had just issued a decree that the Gotei 13 had been dissolved and nothing else. Were all the swordsmen and woman of the military supposed to just become shopkeepers now, to till the lands? That sounded like a lot of hard work for a woman as beautiful as her.

Eh. Worst comes to worse, she could always find a rich man to hook up with for a bit. Some women would be averse to using their bodies to advance themselves, but Rangiku had never possessed such scruples. She existed in the world and the world was not kind to those who didn’t use everything they were given. She had learned that lesson back as a starving foundling, and while she kinda half understood other’s positions, she ultimately thought they were self-serving delusions, so she just did her best to ignore others’ condemnations.

She was lazing around in a bar, drinking and laughing at some merchant’s unfunny joke, when the doors opened and a man dressed in the traditional robes of the Central 46. They too had been dissolved, so the man wasn’t likely here in an official position. He had probably just kept the outfit for nostalgia’s sake like her.

The man looked around the mostly empty tavern. His face lighted up when he saw her and walked over to her cozy little spot at the bar.

“Rangiku Matsumoto, formerly of the 10th division?”

“Yes that’s me, hon. Are you looking for me in particular or just someone with unrivaled beauty?” She made sure to thrust out her chest a bit, just to accentuate the point. Even if he wasn’t interested, it was always fun teasing new men in her life.

“Good. Then by order of the Soul King, I’ve come to deliver you his decree.” He unfurled a scroll of all things and displayed it to her. It only had one line, which he super helpfully read aloud for her. “By order of the Soul King, Rangiku Matsumoto is to become a shinigami cow.”

“A cow?” She certainly hadn’t had someone so brazen as to insult her by route of political decree before. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“No joke, ma’am. I was requisitioned by the Soul King to deliver his new decrees. I don’t even know the contents of them before delivering them.”

“And you’re sure this was the new Soul Lord and not some impostor.” She peered at the scroll. It did look kind of official outside of its bizarre content.

“Of course, ma’am. There could be no mistaking it. His reiatsu was incomparable.”

“And how do I know you haven’t just been put up this by some jilted lover of mine?”

“Oh, well, I don’t have any official stamp or sign of my position yet. I was just made his Majesty’s courier yesterday you see. But I can assure you that my role is official.”

“Uh huh. Well, on your way then. I’ll be sure to follow his Majesty’s ‘order’ as best I can.”

The courier smiled and departed. Huh. So their new ruler was a practical joker then. Had he just targeted her or was this courier delivering insults across the city? She couldn’t imagine it would be well received by others whose pride was larger than her own. For her part, she didn’t mind it too much. It wasn’t like she hid her sex appeal. It was possibly even remotely funny if she thought about it in the abstract.

Ugh. This didn’t solve her lack of job problem. Money was going to run out eventually. She ordered another bear instead of thinking about it anymore.

Rangiku woke up in her bed back at home. She yawned and got up to stretch, but when she did so, her pillow came up with her. That was odd. Her half-awake state didn’t help in her trying to figure out what was going on. It wasn’t until she looked to her side that she saw a black cylindrical object sticking out of the pillow and into her head.

She jumped out of bed and yelped in surprise.

That definitely wasn’t normal. She wrestled her prized, now punctured, pillow off her head and saw that in its place a tip of a horn appeared. And then her head turned to her other side and saw the matching horn sticking out of the other side of her head.

Okay, there were practical jokes and then there were going too far. Had the new Soul King hired someone to glue fake cow horns onto the top of her head. Could their new ruler actually be that dedicated to his stupid jokes?

She took the right horn in both her hands and tried to wrestle it off her head, but it was glued on pretty tight. Like super ridiculously tight. Even with an application of her reiatsu she wasn’t able to remove it. When led to the thought that maybe it wasn’t glued on. That idea proved true when she examined it in a mirror and saw that it wasn’t so much as attached as it was a part of her head. There were no seams nor fissures; it was just that she now had a pair of horns growing out of her skull.

Like a cow.

She needed to see someone about this. She got dressed and walked out of her apartment in search of answers.

There were no answers. Well, there were some, but not to the questions she was asking right now. What she was able to derive was that it seemed like she wasn't the only one who had gotten a decree. One shinigami woman had been declared to be a dog, another was now apparently a stripper, and another was a secretary. Roles had been given out, and only to the women, and only those directly or tangentially based on sex.

She had tried to get into the palace but the guards there had turned everyone away. So, having nothing better to do, she decided she was going to enjoy a hot spring visit. It was on the way there however that she passed a farm supplies store, and it was out of the corner of her eye that she saw it. It being the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen in her life. Its gold metal gleamed in the early morning light and the shape was just so perfectly pleasing in its contours and cavities and when she picked it up, the sound it made was like the most harmonious chords being plucked on the most mellifluous harp.

She didn’t have enough money on hand, so she traded the farmer her old key necklace and picked up the necklace. She placed it gingerly around her neck. The clasp fit snugly, almost like it was designed to be worn by her. When it locked in place, she felt so happy. This was something she was never going to take off. And as she walked to the bar with the necklace chiming to her every step, she knew that her beauty had only been perfected even more.

It was only after she had a beer in her that she realized that she was now wearing a cowbell. Like a cow. She tried to take it off but her hands wouldn’t lift it off her neck. Whenever she tried, they just hung limply in the air.

Okay. This was officially bad. Plus all the men in the bar leering at her were now a bit more predatory than she liked. She probably shouldn’t be stay here. She got up to leave, but as she did so, her tits suddenly felt warm. A moment later they burst out of her robe for all the room to see. She hadn’t thought it possible, but her tits were now twice as big as they had been.

“What’s happening to moooo?”

She fell to the ground as her breasts’ added weight threw her off balance. When her tits collided with the floor, she moo’d again. Her new breasts were so sensitive that even the slight pressure of the wooden floor upon them was enough to send her core into overdrive. Her tits felt so warm and full too. She tried to get up, but doing so only caused her breasts to drag across the floor on the way up, with her nipples rubbing against it.

“Moooo. I need to mooo.” She finally managed to get up, but just as she did so, the pressure became too much and her breasts erupted in a spray of milk. Jets of the it covered the floor beneath her in a white puddle. She tried to cover it, but the pressure didn’t let up and it just caused it to spray in a wider arc, hitting some of the patrons.

Her cowbell chimed to every fierce jettison of milk, signaling to the whole establishment that here was a cow for them to watch. Some of the braver patrons mustered the courage to get closer. One got near enough to latch his mouth onto a nipple. The sensation of his tongue licking her nub just sent her into even higher heights of frenzy, and her pussy started to cum as well, adding its own spray to mess.

She tried to think. She needed to think. But all her thoughts were just ‘moo’ and ‘mooooo’. So how could she be blamed for just sitting there and letting men drink from her udders? It was the path of least resistance.

Rangikow wandered the marketplace, moo’ing at everyone she saw. Most took her up on her implicit offer and tasted her tits. She felt so good when that happened. Moo. It was mostly men, but some of the women partook as well. If she were more cognizant, she might have noticed that the women all were in similar predicaments to her own.

A woman with ginormous breasts was trying to sell her merchandise, but her breasts kept knocking it over and she had to bend over to pick it over which just revealed her equally large ass. A man took the opportunity to stick his dick up her ass and said that he’d be taking some of her items as payment, which she eagerly accepted.

Another woman was busking for some spare reiatsu, but her backing music was just her ass clapping and her lyrics were something along the lines of “tits” and “ass” and variations of that theme. Still, she managed to draw some of the crowd.

Rangikow wandered in a haze without any regard for her fellow shinigami besides the thought of them suckling on her udders. So it was to some surprise on her part that she found herself at the farm supplies store again where she had purchased the cowbell.

A shinigami whose robes had been refashioned into overalls and who was holding a hoe, noticed her. “Oh you poor thing. Have you been wandering by yourself all this time?”

Rangikow moo’d.

“I see. Let’s get you inside then.” The farmer shinigami led her inside the house behind the storefront, which had apparently been converted to an ad-hoc barn. Inside were several empty stalls. “You’re my first cow, but I’m sure we’ll fill up this barn before long. There you go, right in there.” She pushed Rangikow inside and once the cow was inside, she hooked her up to the breast pump that was in the stall with her.

Once that was done, the farmer closed the stall door and started the machine up. Rangikow let out a long and wailing moo at that, as the suckling feeling she had been desiring started and never stopped. It just kept on sucking and sucking the milk from her ever full udders.

“I’m so happy you came to me, precious. I just got an order from the Soul King’s palace for some shinigami milk, and I was beginning to get a bit worried. But with you I’m sure I’ll be able to fill that order in no time. Your udders are so big and full after all.”

Rangikow moo’d, and she kept moo’ing.