The owner of the distribution center, and he knows what it can do

Darren was under no illusions of what was happening at his bottling plant. His workers, most of whom he had known and employed for years, were no longer the men they used to be. He had come in one day to see that a few of them had lost inches of height and a lot of their confidence. He hadn't thought anything of it at first, but once more of them started to display the same symptoms, he took notice. As the week progressed, he watched more and more of them become what could only be described as beaten down young men: short, skinny, slim-shouldered, hardworking, and extremely obedient and submissive. The few men that didn't change into teen versions of themselves seemed to have the opposite problem, bulking up into towering hunks that eagerly threw their weight around at the plant and made the boys work extra hard.

Darren also knew what was causing the changes. The milk they were bottling, an absolute ton of it that was coming in from one of their suppliers, seemed to be what caused it. He had visited the breakroom one day to see Julian, a man nearing his fifties, openly say he was holding a bottle of that milk and then drink it. Darren had watched years fall off the man as he stood there twitching, until his clothes hung off of him and he looked more like an insecure nerd in his early twenties than the grizzled veteran he had been minutes before. And the very next day he had been nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the boys at work, all his scars gone in favor of smooth skin.

None of that really changed anything for Darren though. The milk still got bottled, and production had actually gone up: apparently the bois had more energy and a stronger work ethic than their grown up selves. Sure, they were basically bullied by their stud coworkers, but that was their problem. Plus, he actually hadn't heard any complaints yet. Which was probably thanks to the part of the whole situation that he did care about: the women.

He didn't have very many female workers in the bottling plant, but those he did have were far from spared from the strange changes. Each one of them, without exception, had become gorgeously curvy, busts and butts gaining size that they never would have imagined before. They had become just as submissive as many of their coworkers, which, combined with the fact that they could make a man erect with a single shake of their asses and a precipitous drop in their intelligence, had rapidly resulted in their significant contributions in keeping morale up. Specifically by getting fucked every way to Sunday. Darren was utterly shocked and mystified by the sudden change, but once he had gone to the part of the production floor where the studs fucked the girls, he had to **** himself from joining in. The women exuded a scent that he couldn't describe, one that invited him in to pump a few loads between their shaking tits and inside their sopping cunts. He had only barely managed to **** himself away, retreating to his office to jerk himself off to the thought of their bodies until the scent had faded from his mind.

Once he had calmed down, he came to terms with the insanity that was his life. Production was up, most of his workers no longer looked like they were of age to be employed, and those that did were usually busy fucking outrageously sexy women. He had immediately contacted the dairy, only to receive word back that it was all as expected and that he only needed to keep picking up the milk and let them know if any of the women started producing milk from their giant breasts. He was left with only confusion and a **** acceptance of the situation. So instead of wallow in it, he decided to turn it to his advantage. And after a few days of questions, consideration, and deep thinking, he went home with two bottles of milk and a plan.

"I'm home!" he called once he walked in the door to his modest suburban home. As usual, he got no response. His wife usually worked later than he did, since they usually always needed more help at the nearby food shelter where she worked, leaving just their teenage daughter home. Their surly, standoffish, rebellious daughter Lydia, who gave them no shortage of trouble at nineteen. Tonight though, Darren couldn't bring himself to be annoyed. It was exactly what he expected and precisely what he had hoped for. Setting the milk on the counter with a smile, he went to work in the kitchen.

Since he was usually the one home first and had been for years, Darren had taken on the responsibility of making dinner every night. As such, he was no novice to baking and quickly got to work on making a batch of cookies. If there was one thing, he knew about his daughter, it was that she had a ferocious sweet-tooth and wouldn't be able to resist a fresh batch of cookies. 'And soon, I think she'll have a hard time resisting something else too,' he thought, splashing a plentiful amount of milk into the bowl before going to making the dough.

About an hour ready, a fresh stack of hot cookies were cooling in the kitchen and Darren heard the tell-tale sound of feet descending the stairs. He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Lydia enter the kitchen. She was always pushing the limits of what her parents would deep appropriate, and today was no exception with her high stockings, tight booty shorts and a halter top that left her belly very exposed and the shape of her small breasts clearly visible. Her black hair was purposefully fashioned in a short pixie cut to keep the ends from turning red, an odd quirk she had inherited from her mother.

"Hello to you too, young lady," Darren said as Lydia wordlessly got out a plate and started filling it up with cookies. His daughter continued to move around the kitchen, pulling out the milk he had brought home and filling a glass up.

"Hey," she said shortly as she left the room, plate of cookies and glass of milk in hand.

"Why don't you have a seat and we can chat a little?" he called after her. He probably only fit better into the mold of 'lame parent' that he knew Lydia put both him and her mother into, but he didn't care. He wanted to witness the changes to his daughter first hand.

"Ugh, fine. But I'm still eating," the punky girl said, sitting down at the table like it was the biggest inconvenience to her life so far. True to her word, she popped a cookie into her mouth as Darren sat down across from her, taking a swig of milk right after. Her father had to try and stifle his smile.

"So how's school going? Learning anything interesting?" he asked deliberately. The one thing he knew his daughter loved was to complain, and bringing up school was a sure way to send her on a rant. And sure, it would grate on his ears for the moment, but it would also keep her occupied for long enough for the milk to go to work.

"Oh my god, Jen is such a slut. She won't fucking stop making eyes at every guy she sees, it's obnoxious. I know we've been friends forever, but she is seriously getting annoying. The whole thing is. School sucks, it's a fucking waste of time. I don't know why you won't just let me take a damn GED test and be done with it. I know, it's 'important for my development' or whatever, but seriously. All the boys act like the haven't matured since they turned twelve and all the girls somehow think that's hot. Swear half the school shows up to football practice just to tease and flash the guys. Of course, the 'cheerleaders' aren't any better. We should just call them 'team sluts' and be done with it. You know they're all fucking, it's so obvious. But the coaches won't do anything, mostly because they like looking at all that fresh, teen ass and wishing they could get some of that, never mind that they're all pathetic old losers. And..." Lydia kept going, Darren just listening vacantly as he watched his daughter's pile of cookies shrink. She always had some complaint, some gripe with authority or her schoolmates, all of which culminated in an incessant tirade of annoyance and rebellion. Darren honestly just hoped the milk would make her mellow out, dumb her down enough to make her listen to what he said and shut up. And maybe she would grow some actual curves in the meantime too, something else he knew annoyed her, though she'd never admit it.

"...and then Jen was-" Her rant abruptly ended and Lydia's mouth hung open, like she had just lost her train of thought. Darren watched as she took a big drink of her milk to cover it, downing the last of the glass. He noticed her breathing picking up and her face flushing, though he didn't think Lydia did yet. "I-" she started, before swaying in her seat a little, pressing a hand to her head. Darren quickly got up.

"Sweetie, are you feeling alright?" he asked, coming around the table and reaching for his daughter. She quickly got up and stepped out of reach, still pressing one hand to her head.

"I'm fine, just...ate too fast. Fuck, I'm FINE!" she shouted as her father tried to reach for her again. "I'm just going to go upstairs and lay down for a little bit." Darren watched as she walked unsteadily to the stairs and walked up them, swaying with each step. On one of them, she actually lost her balance and fell forward, catching herself on the steps. Darren thought he saw her push her butt back and up at the same time it grew slightly, but Lydia was moving again before he could double check.

"Let me know if you need anything, sweetie!" he called after her. He really just wanted to stop her for a minute to see if he could detect any more changes taking place, but was surprised when she turned around and smiled at him.

"Thanks, dadd-" Lydia flushed red and stopped herself, quickly running down the hall to her room and slamming the door. Darren was just as surprised, he hadn't seen his daughter smile at him in years and it sounded like she had almost called him 'daddy', a habit she had kicked as soon as she started middle school. Smiling sneakily, he quickly washed and put away her dishes, eyes settling on the remaining cookies on the counter. He had made too many it seemed, since Lydia was clearly being affected already. Probably best to put them away just in case though. He had just started to get a plastic container when he heard a sound from upstairs.

Darren froze, listening closely, until he heard another call of 'Daddy!' from his daughter. Immediately forgetting about the cookies, he rushed upstairs and down the hall to Lydia's room and knocked.

"Were you calling for me, sweetie?" he asked, listening with bated breath for the response. It took a minute, a long, torturous minute, before heard a whimper on the other side of the door, a sound he knew his daughter would never make if she knew he was listening. Still, he waited and called again, wanting Lydia to cave by herself. "Lydia, are you okay? Would you open the door?"

He could hear her breathing now, right on the other side of the door, heavy and labored. "I...I'm.....ahhh...hurts...Da..Daddy...."

"Sweetie, if you need something, I need you to open the door," he said gently.

"N-no...nooooo...."

"You don't need anything?"

"No! I...wait....please....nnggg...."

"Lydia, if you need something, I need you to open the door for me. Whatever it is, just open the door and I'll help." It took only a few more seconds before Darren heard his daughter shuffling against the door and the handle turned. The door cracked open and he could see one of Lydia's brown eyes peeking out, wide and dilated until they saw him, at which point they shrank into extremely small dots. Her breathing picked up again and she stared at him, completely focused. "Do you want me to come in?" Darren asked, watching his daughter carefully. She slowly nodded and backed away, letting him push the door open and see her transformed figure.

He had seen the effects of the milk before, but he was still surprised at how different Lydia looked. Her small chest was much larger, weighty breasts hanging off her torso. Her butt had grown as well, and he suspected that she would have a very hard time fitting it into those shorts she had been wearing earlier. Shorts she notably didn't wear now, or just about anything else for that matter, besides her thigh-high stockings that seemed to cling a bit tighter. Her hair had grown out too, no longer short but a beautiful wave that came down past her shoulders as it naturally shifted from black to a vibrant red. Her expression was the strangest thing though, torn between disgust and helpless need.

"Daddy...p-please...I....no, don't.....I need....ahhnn...need your....oh, please, Daddy, just...." She continued to struggle with herself, fighting against what her new body wanted, but Darren knew she was already done. He could smell that scent, the same one that drove all the men at the plant wild, filling the room, the source undoubtedly his squirming daughter. Once again, he couldn't help but get hard at the aroma, his cock forming a prominent tent in his pants. He'd had no intention of fucking his daughter when he made his plans, but that changed once his little girl caught sight of his bulge. Her indecisiveness disappeared and her face went slack as she stared at it, utterly transfixed and literally drooling at the sight, and she fell to her hands and knees to crawl towards him. He could have tried to resist her and his mounting desire, but a look at her lust-drunk face told him that an effort would be wasted. She needed him, whether he liked it or not, and she was going to take no for an answer. It made him reconsider exactly who was taking advantage of who at the plant, but then Lydia's hands were undoing his belt.

His rebellious daughter wasted no time putting her lips around his slightly above average dick and going to work sucking on it like a devoted lover. Her sassy mouth felt so good around him, her normally barbed tongue fluttering delightfully around his engorged head. He felt his balls boiling with cum to pour into his slut daughter's mouth, but he **** him back from the edge and took her bobbing head in his hands.

As part of his investigations into the transformative milk, he had talked to the men at the bottling plant, both boys and actual men, though particularly the walking hunks of masculinity. After hours of questions and cross-checking the answers, he had concluded that mental state and stamina were the most important factors in determining whether a man turned into a fuck machine or a sissy boi, especially when fucking one of the women. Cumming quickly was a sure way to doom himself to limp dicked servitude, as was failure to assert his dominance. So he made sure to look Lydia in the eyes as he controlled her **** throat fucking.

"You're mine, Lydia. I'm sick of your back sass and rebelliousness. So from now on you're going to be a good little cocksucker, okay? Moan if you understand." Her throat immediately started vibrating around his dick, accompanied by a series of shudders and an audible splash that was her squirting in climax. The knowledge that she came just from his commanding voice and his dick in her throat nearly made him cum too, but he just barely held back. Then a sudden scream from downstairs broke his focus entirely and he pushed a drooling Lydia away. He recognized his wife's voice and abruptly remembered the transformative cookies he had left on the counter in favor of seeing his changed daughter.

Quickly shoving his slightly larger dick back into his pants, he rushed downstairs, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. He heard Lydia moaning and trailing behind him, but he was focused on getting to his wife. He rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw Astrid leaning against the counter, breathing heavily. The smaller pile of cookies and the crumbs on the counter confirmed his fears. She must have come home while he was distracted upstairs and eaten the damning cookies. And from the look of her, it was far too late to stop.

Her face had lost its accumulated signs of age, making the fifty-year-old woman look absurdly younger than she really was, and the slight grey in her black-to-red hair had disappeared. He arrived just in time to see what he had missed with Lydia though, the explosive growth of her tits and ass. Astrid's rump grew first and was made all the more beautiful by her being bent over the counter. Her already wide hips grew even larger, paired with ass cheeks that begged to get hit with something, whether it was a hand or a cock. She thrust her new butt back, driven by helpless instinct as she humped the air, and unknowingly making her husband's restrained dick even harder as well as grow an inch, making his pants even tighter. He probably would have gone up and palmed her ass in its strained cloth prison, but her tits, already her best feature, was next to grow.

Astrid's breasts had already been more than Darren could hold in a single hand each, but the milk was doing wonders for them. Her long-sleeved beige shirt already showed off some of her cleavage, but her enlarging titflesh was rapidly deepening that chasm. Her breasts stretched the fabric to its limit, until her boobs were huge, firm melons that didn't seem to have any significant amount of sag, even after Astrid reached back and released her underperforming bra with a *snap*. They just sat there, heavy and pendulous, waiting to be groped.

"Astrid?" Darren said cautiously, not wanting to scare his overwhelmed wife. She still jumped at his voice though, which sent her tits bouncing wildly, coming so very close to escaping the stretched neckline of her shirt. He was disappointed when her jiggling came to a stop, but that disappointment faded once Astrid looked at him.

"Darren? What happened to you? What happened to ME?!" she cried, looking down at her massively improved and, if Darren wasn't mistaken, slightly shorter body.

"Honey, it's okay. You're okay. It's just...I guess I made a mistake..." he said, tilting his head to look down at his shorter wife.

"A mistake? How does a mistake make me look like this? How does it make YOU look like THAT?"

"Look like wha-....oh." Darren looked down at himself and realized what she meant. It wasn't just that she had gotten shorter, though she definitely had, giving her the gorgeous appeal of a short-stacked woman. He had also gained a few inches, and not just in his dick. He was taller by nearly six inches, bringing him to a formidable 6'5 and nearly bursting out of his clothes too. His pants were almost painful at this point too, and wasn't helped when Astrid took the measure of him, her eyes roaming over his taller and more muscled body, want very clearly on her face.

"Oh god, your abs. And is that your...mmm, I'm so wet. I just want...to..... No, wait, why is this happening?"

"It's...well, there's...something with the milk. At the plant. It has some...effects.... And I brought some home..." he said a bit bashfully, though Astrid hardly noticed for how he was looming over her.

"Milk? But I didn't.... The cookies? You baked with it? Did you know what it would do? What am I saying, of course you did! WHY?!" Astrid yelled, quickly approaching the point of freaking out.

"It wasn't for you! I meant to..."

"To what?!"

"It was for Lydia. One of the things it does is...well, it makes people more submissive. I just...wanted her to stop being so rebellious. So I made her some cookies and milk."

"...Okay, that...makes sense at least. But what about...this? These? My fucking tits?!" Astrid immediately slapped her hand over her mouth, the sudden impact making her 'fucking tits' shake again. "I-I didn't mean to say that. I didn't...Darren, what's happening to me? Why can't I stop thinking about bending over and letting you fuck me?" she asked in horror.

"That's...also the milk. It has a lot of effects, including....heightened desires. And physical improvements."

"Darren, these are not 'physical improvements'. I look like a pinup girl! I don't think I've ever been so wet! I just want you to fuck me! And why is my voice like this?!" Her voice had changed, Darren realized once he stopped staring at her swaying breasts. It had gotten...younger, softer, lost a little of its mature tone. Her face had too, he realized: she looked like a girl just barely in her twenties now, a lot like her daughter actually. But then the thought of Lydia reminded him of what he had been doing with her right before Astrid came home and his dick swelled again, finally reaching the point of being unbearable.

"Your...oh, Darren, that looks...I should help, help you with that erection.... No, I shouldn't. I can't. Lydia's right upstairs, we can't just..." She pursed her red painted lips and tried to resist her need.

"To tell you the truth, honey, I don't think she'd mind," Darren admitted, no longer afraid of retaliation when she was looking at him like that. "She was right in the middle of deepthroating my dick when you got home, so I doubt she'd mind us fucking. She might even come watch."

"Really?" Astrid asked, the filthy, incestuous context of his words lost in his assurance that they could fuck. "Can we really? It's not going to..."

"It'll be fine. A lot of workers at the plant have changed too. They all seem really happy, so w-!" Darren was caught off guard as Astrid lunged for him, her incredibly voluptuous body jiggling wildly as she impacted against him, reaching up and pulling him down into a kiss with one hand while the other went straight for his cock. With a few frantic movements, his now enormous shaft was bobbing in the air, powerfully erect and waiting for a warm home.

"Fuck, yes, you smell so good. Oh Darren, I need this in me," she moaned, pushing him down to the ground and straddling him, her white skirt fluttering as she lowered herself towards his shaft. "I want you to fuck me like you did when we were trying for Lydia. Every day. All day. Just...let me....ooohhhhhh GOD!" Astrid screamed as her husband's dick pierced her womanhood like a spear of pleasure, immediately making her need more. Her face scrunched with ecstasy and Astrid started bouncing gently, each small movement seeming to push his dick further into her. Her moans were muffled by her pursed lips, but she showed Darren how much she loved it by leaning back a little and pushing her new boobs out.

She moved her hips more, the red ends of her hair landing on the shelf of her heated tits and bouncing with them. Darren's hands on her hips and his loud grunts only encouraged her to move more, her entire mind focused on how incredibly right and good fucking him felt, more than it ever had before. She couldn't bring herself to be angry or afraid anymore; something told her that as long as he fucked her, everything would turn out alright.

Her climax approached and she eagerly chased it, moving her enhanced body more. The added movement was all it took for one of her giant wobbling tits to finally win its battle against her overworked shirt, the right orb popping free to rise and fall even more enthusiastically and exposing its thick, pale nipple. She tossed her head back before looking back down at her straining, powerfully muscled husband with her own matching pinched expression. His eyes were firmly rooted on her breasts as they bounced freely, and though his hands held her hips to match her pace, she could tell he wanted to have them higher. She immediately brought her hands around and groped herself, sending powerful surges of bliss from her nipples to the rest of her body.

The sight of her massive shaking boobflesh being compacted and squeezed was enough to push Darren over the edge, and he eagerly thrust his hips up twice more before blasting his biggest load ever deep into his wife's twenty-year-old body. Astrid gurgled in happiness and immediately came herself, writhing on her equally youthened husband with feverish ferocity. Her cunt gushed as it was filled with seed and she already looked forward to the next load he would pump into her. She especially longed to have him take her from behind, a position she had never been a fan of in their younger years but now couldn't imagine being anything less than indescribably good. With a final gurgle, she collapsed off of Darren, his dick popping free of her cunt and flicking drops of cum across the room. Astrid's body trembled with the fading traces of her climax, completely lost in chasing its fading embers, until even that finally faded and she heard enthusiastic slurping coming from nearby.

The shortstack slowly raised her head to see what could only be her daughter Lydia sucking on Darren's dick, though she had changed nearly as drastically as her mother, not to mention she apparently had the same ferocious desire for dick as her mother.

"Give it to her," Astrid found herself saying, looking at her husband, who was looking at his daughter as she slurped frantically on his pole. "Give our obedient little daughter your cum. Maybe if she's a good girl, Mommy will show her how to get fucked properly. Only if you're good though." The last phrase was directed at Lydia, who answered by picking up her pace until a fresh batch of cum was being spent across her tongue. She gulped it down quickly, savoring the taste while trying to get as much of it as she could. Before she realized it, the flow of cum slowed and stopped and she was being pushed aside by her mother.

"Be a good girl now, Lydia. Your daddy has to fuck me good and hard a few times before you can get your turn again. But how about you come and give your mommy a bit of that cum before she gets fucked full of it again?" Astrid asked as Darren bent her over and thrust into her leaking pussy from behind with a wet squelch. Astrid came immediately, her tongue lolling out as Lydia's slack face came closer, a large blob of cum hanging from her extended tongue. The two women kissed, one of them happy to be fucked by her husband and the other happy to be included. Both of them forgot about how they had gotten there, instead only focusing on the endless fucking that was sure to come, and Darren blasted his rejuvenated wife full of another batch of cum, his eyes shifting from her squishing ass to the rest of the cookies on the counter. The men at the factory had plenty of girls to fuck, he realized, at the same time he remembered the sexy teen that lived next door, probably just as bitchy as his own daughter had been. He should probably show her how to be a good girl too.