Lactating Vince The Remote of Transformation chapter 21 by deleted_user

Baby Linda sat on the floor in her fluffy pink onesie, chubby legs kicking angrily, her tiny face twisted in pure adult fury. The bulging diaper crinkled with every frustrated wiggle.

“Gimme that fuckin’ thing!” she squeaked in her gravelly trailer-trash voice, now pitched up like a pissed-off cartoon character. She lunged forward on all fours, crawling surprisingly fast toward Brandon’s skinny legs. Her chubby baby fingers reached up, grabbing at the remote with surprising determination.

Brandon tried to pull it away, still annoyed in his stick-thin body. “Linda, no — you’re literally a baby, you can’t —”

Too late.

Linda’s tiny hands closed around the remote. She yanked it toward herself, aiming it wildly in Vince’s general direction while her adult brain was suddenly taken over by her baby brain for a second, thinking one very clear, very urgent thought: I’m fuckin’ starving.

The remote chirped happily. Target acquired: Vince.

Blue light blasted out and slammed into the towering muscle-god.

Vince’s eyes went wide. “Whoa, wait — what the — oh shit!”

The change hit him hard and fast.

His massive 6’4” athletic frame began to shrink and soften all at once. Broad shoulders narrowed, thick pecs swelled outward into heavy, rounded breasts that stretched and grew until they were large, full, and obviously lactating. Dark wet spots immediately bloomed across his chest as milk started leaking freely from his new nipples. His eight-pack melted away into a soft, slightly rounded belly. His narrow waist flared out into wide, fertile hips while his powerful legs thickened with feminine curves. Between his legs, his proud nine-inch cock and heavy balls shrank away completely, replaced by a smooth, puffy pussy.

In under ten seconds, Vince had become a curvy, lactating woman — still recognizably Vince in the face (same mischievous hazel eyes, same cocky grin), but now stacked with big, milk-heavy tits, wide breeding hips, and a thick, juicy ass. She was dressed in a tight white tank top that was rapidly getting soaked with breast milk and a pair of stretchy black shorts that hugged her new feminine curves. Milk continued to drip steadily from her enlarged nipples, running down the front of the tank top in warm rivulets.

Vince looked down at herself, cupping her leaking breasts with both hands. A thick squirt of milk shot out between her fingers as she squeezed experimentally.

“What the fuck?!” she yelped, voice still deep and crass but now undeniably feminine. “I’m a chick! With tits! And they’re leakin’ like crazy! Jesus Christ, I’m makin’ a mess over here!”

She gave her new chest another tentative squeeze. More milk sprayed out, splattering onto the coffee table and one of the empty pizza boxes. The sensation made her groan — half annoyance, half involuntary pleasure.

“Goddamn it, I’m hungry as hell and now I’ve got these giant milk jugs goin’ off like faulty faucets! Linda, you stupid baby — you turned me into a walkin’ dairy farm!”

Baby Linda sat back on her padded bottom, still holding the remote, looking confused. “Well shit… I was just thinkin’ about bein’ hungry. Didn’t mean to turn you into a damn wet nurse. But… those tits do look pretty full. Maybe you should feed me or somethin’.”

Vince glared down at the tiny angry infant, milk still dripping freely from her soaked tank top. “Feed you?! With these?! Fuck that — change me back!”

Brandon (still stick-thin and flat) crossed his bony arms, looking annoyed but also a little amused at the chaos. “This is what happens when babies play with dangerous toys.”

Paul stood frozen in the hallway, eyes wide behind his glasses, staring at the lactating Vince and the baby Linda while trying very hard not to look at the wet spots spreading across Vince’s chest.

The remote was still clutched in Baby Linda’s chubby little hands.