New Patriots: Milktec Industries Presents

“Mr. Chakavarti?” A broad shouldered man in a well fitted suit stepped forward out of the line of other men holding signs with names on them. “Vishnu Chakavarti?”

The man in question nodded nervously. “Uh, yes.”

“Elmer Johnson, the company sent me to pick you up. I’ll be your driver until you get settled.” Without waiting, he slipped the bag out of Vishnu’s hand and offered to take the one from the woman standing beside him.

Vishnu breathed a sigh of relief. “Ah, thought we might have some questions for customs or…immigration or what have you.” He pushed up a pair of glasses on his nose. “Please, call me Sam, and this is my wife Vera.”

Elmer’s eyes raised as he shook Sam’s hand. “Sorry, the info they gave me —”

“We decided to Americanize our names,” Sam explained. “First names, anyway. We’ve had some colleagues do it on their move to Britain and said it tends to make things simpler in the long run.”

The driver shrugged his big shoulders. Sam was growing increasingly conscious of how large everyone seemed in America. “Alright then, suits me just fine if that’s what you prefer. To be honest, they gave me a crack at learning introductory Hindi, you know to ease the culture shock. I told them the last thing these folks want to hear is Hindi coming out of my dumb Texas mouth. Mrs. Chakavarti, a pleasure to meet you. Gosh, that’s a pretty dress. They call that a sari?”

“Of a type, yes,” Sam answered for his wife. “Please no offense, Mr. Johnson. My wife is less experienced with English and hesitates to speak.”

“Not at all. Call me Elmer, Sam. She gets my meaning though, I hope. I’d love to see my wife wearing something like that. Colorful and all. Uh, you can clean up what I’m saying if you like. Anyways, let’s get the lead out. They want me to shuttle the missus to your new home, give you a bit to get settled, and then get you up to the office for a little meet and greet. Have they given you all the run down?” He gave a jerk of his head and plowed through the line of waiting drivers, carving a path for the two new arrivals to scuttle behind him.

“Not precisely. They didn’t even tell me someone was meeting us at the airport. Thought we would have to get a cab and…well, didn’t know what my next step would be.” Sam tried to take in as much of the airport as he could as they rushed through. It was an entirely different world than Britain. Everything seemed new and polished. The other people trotted by happily, all a sort of giant compared to Sam and his wife. The difference between a war-torn country and a country growing fatter off the profits of war. He spied a small diner serving platters of food bigger than what an on-ration family in London would see in a week.

“It’s a lot to take in, ain’t it,” Elmer said, slowing his stride so his wards didn’t have to hurry. “I finished a tour in Paris two years ago. When I got back, I was skin and bones, just like everyone over there. I read all in the papers how we’re shipping tons of food and supplies every day. Not sure where it goes, but many mouths make quick work of many meals.”

Vera nudged her husbands arm. He followed her gesture to a pair of women sitting on a bench. They wore tight fitted dresses which did nothing to hide the figures underneath. Sam was briefed on hucows and post-service hucows as part of his work, even seeing a few photographs of them in full splendor. Yet it was nothing to seeing one out in the world. Their clothes strained to contain the mass of breasts and hips. Whoever tailored the clothes had made a considerable effort to create a sense of modesty, but it failed spectacularly. Six inches of cleavage were visible with the high neckline and their engorged nipples pressed through the fabric. One of them was even partially leaking, creating dark stains on the front of her dress. All that aside, they simply sat waiting for something. The leaky one had a novel in her hand and the other was knitting to pass the time.

“Yeah,” Elmer said, noticing Sam’s gaze. “Don’t worry, you get used to it. I mean, most folks do. Some go a little batty. They tell us those ladies are helping us win the war.” Elmer paused in front of an array of doors leading to the outside. “Mind if I ask a question, Mr. Chakavarti?”

“Sam, please, it helps to get accustomed to it. And no, Elmer, you’re our guide, I am happy hear questions.”

“They gave me a dossier about you. Said you came out of a camp in Turkey, that true?”

Sam glanced around. The exit area of an airport seemed an odd place to have the conversation, but Elmer had a good manner about him that made probing questions seem innocent. “That’s right. I was captured at a research facility in Jaipur. They transferred my colleagues and I to a detention facility in Kayseri.”

“How’d they treat you? The Soviets, I mean.”

“Decently, I think. We were treated kindly, more or less, but they are…disciplined. They wanted my help essentially planning refugee camps. And, well, if you came back skin and bones from Paris, then I don’t recommend vacationing in Kayseri.”

“Right,” Elmer said. “You never know what to believe anymore. Both sides lie, after all. Let’s get going. Car’s only a short walk outside. Hope you like the heat.”

Thirty minutes later, Vera stood inside a massive house entirely alone. She walked through the different rooms, running her hands over the furniture and fabrics. In an effort to feel grounded, she went to the bedroom where Elmer had put their bags. The bedroom alone was bigger than the apartment they’d had in London. With the suitcases on the bed, she put away the entirety of their worldly collections. Sam’s clothes filled one drawer of the massive dresser. Hers filled half of one. She carefully tucked the suitcases out of sight in a closet and continued to explore the house.

In the kitchen, she played with the knobs on the stove and turned on the microwave to see what it would do. Nothing, as it turned out, or so she thought. Vish—Sam told her the Americans had been making insane strides in technology in the recent years, but she never thought it would be so commonplace. She opened the refrigerator and almost cried. Half of it was stocked with amazing colors of vegetables and fruit, some things she didn’t even recognize. The other half was a full shelf of Milktec Milk. They’d had their designated ration in London, a bottle a week, usually taken as almost a medicinal treat after each dinner. With the bounty in the icebox, they could have a bottle at a whim. Which is precisely what she did.

The sweet milk swirling in her belly, she nearly danced her way through the rest of the house. The company, Milktec Industries, had been insanely generous to get her husband on board. It paid for everything from the moment a recruiter showed up at their door three months earlier. Now she lived in a beautiful neighborhood, far and free from the grimness of the unending war, and drowning in luxuries she’d never dreamed of. In the living room, she found a large record player and a box stocked with vinyls. She flipped through until she found something she recognized. A moment later, she was dancing slowly in a brightly lit room to a slow jazz number.

The doorbell rang. This mostly confused Vera as she’d never heard an actual bell, only a buzzer. The subsequent knocks on the door clued her in. She quickly shut off the record and hurried to the front door. After a second to compose herself, she opened the door to find a trio of women grinning like fools and holding covered baking dishes. “Um, hello?”

“Hi!” The woman in front said. “I’m Betty Coulson, we live just next door. And this is Martha Kensington, she’s across the street, and next door to her, this is Paula Lint. We’re the neighborhood welcoming committee!”

Vera peered back at the women, not only shocked by their enthusiasm, but by their physique. Though short of the hucows she’d seen at the airport, these woman put the idea of the feminine body to the extreme. Betty’s breasts bulged out the top of her pink dress. Martha’s weren’t much smaller, and Paula, to Vera’s horror, wore a tight pair of pants and something like a man’s shirt, showing off the full shape and size of not only her breasts, but her butt as well. Vera stammered to find words, “It is nice to meet you. I, uh, my husband is not at home.”

“Well, don’t be silly, we didn’t come to see him. We’re here to, you know, welcome you. Mind if we come inside?”

Vera didn’t want these strange women inside her new home at all. She wanted to relax for the first time in years, but she didn’t know a polite way to turn them away. “No, please,” she opened the door wide and they swept in like the witches three.

Martha let out a big gasp as she looked around at the house, “Wow, they’re getting much better at these relocation setups. When Bill and I got here they’d just finished building the house. Carpet smelled fresh, but that was about the best thing going for it. Bare walls, empty rooms. Course that let us pick and choose a bit as we got settled, but I have to say, arriving to a fully functional house would have been a relief. Let’s see, kitchen’s that way, I think.”

“Paula take mine,” Betty said, transferring her dish into Paula’s free hand. In the next instant, she had hooked her arm into the crook of Vera’s. “Gosh, look at you. So pretty and young, real young. Wouldn’t put you a day over twenty-five. And this…dress, my goodness, exquisite. Do they sell these or do you make it yourself?”

“A seamstress,” Vera answered, trying to wriggle away from the significantly larger woman.

“Of course, Vera.” She snapped her fingers, “Oh, I should say, Elmer gave us a call and told us a little about you. What little he knew anyway. Said you were going by Vera. Pretty name, my grandmother’s actually. She wasn’t nearly as pretty as you though, probably suits you better. — Girls, get the plates down. — We do this for every new arrival. Unofficial company policy. They don’t like to think of it as Americanizing everyone, but getting everyone to be a more suitable part of the Milktec Team. You an Sam are going to love it here. Bobby, that’s my husband, has never been happier. I think he’s going to be working right alongside your Sam actually. He’s a project leader on some new factory business or something. Milktec is always growing, as they say.”

While Betty steered Vera around the kitchen, the other two women busied themselves with the dishes, plates, and silverware. Martha had a pot of coffee going while she pour tall glasses of Milktec milk from fresh bottles. Paula brought out plates and began loading each one with heavy servings from the dishes they brought. Vera didn’t recognize any of them, but they seemed to be of a dessert variety. One was definitely a cake, though it looked unusually moist, another was some type of yellow pudding, and the third was some type of biscuit. She gently prised herself away from Betty to say, “Ladies, please, er, this is my home. I should host?”

All three women paused and smiled. Paula answered, “Oh honey, you’ve had a crazy day. We know where everything is and just how to take care of you. Don’t worry about a thing. Besides, I’m sure Betty will recruit you to welcome the next lovely lady to our little town.”

“That’s right,” Betty said. “We like to rotate newcomers onto the welcoming committee as often as possible. Especially ones with similar background. If what Bobby tells me is right we have a whole slew of folks coming from your neck of the woods. India, that’s right?”

Vera nodded, feeling like she was caught in a violent riptide. Martha patted the top of one of the stools around the large kitchen bar. Vera hopped onto it, amazed once again at the height and size of the other three women. “We’ve lived in Britain for some time now.”

“I so wished to go to London,” Betty said, taking a seat beside Vera and sliding one of the prepared plates over in front of the newcomer. “You read all those romantic stories growing up. They turn you into a dreamy headed girl thinking Mr. Darcy is going to sweep you up and carry you off to a manor in the British countryside. You know I heard so many of them got bombed. That’s horrible. Well, the people lost is horrible, but those great houses and architecture and history. Terrible what the first war did to everything.”

“Yes,” Vera said, doubting the three ladies had any idea what the last twenty years had been like for the other half of the world. “What’s all this, please?” She gestured to the plate in front of her.

“Welcome committee special,” Martha said with a grin. “I made the banana pudding. Those are Paula’s oatmeal cookies, and Betty’s delicious milk punch cake. Have a bite of it first.”

The ladies all waited, watching Vera. Nervously, she picked up the fork and cut a small bite of the cake. She figured she could nibble at each to be polite. Western food rarely agreed with her stomach, and their fascination with sugar hadn’t impressed her. In Britain, she’d been able to find other Indian transplants to get a taste of home, but that seemed like a distant dream in America. The cake hit her tongue and dissolved her thoughts. It was delicious. Without missing a beat, she cut off a bigger chunk and shoveled it into her mouth.

“Atta girl,” Betty said. “All it takes is one bite.”

“It’s wonderful,” Vera said. She couldn’t describe the taste as anything other than milky, yet it was something much more complex than drinking a glass of milk. She took another huge bite.

“You know it took a woman’s touch to finally get through to the Milktec brass,” Paula said. “Like it always does. I swear if it were men being milked and women running the company that damn war would have been over a while ago.”

“We all do our share of men milking, don’t we girls?” Martha said with a giggle.

Vera sensed something lewd in what they were saying, but didn’t care. She finished the cake and moved on to the pudding. It tasted vaguely like a banana, but still had an overt taste of milk.

Betty tsked at the other two, “Give her a little time. You see, hon, back when they first started these little company towns, everything was so barren and drab. They had a hell of a time keeping employee morale up. The company bosses thought it was to do with the working conditions, but not even close. As they say, happy wife makes a happy life, and all the wives were at home miserable. We played bridge, we gardened, and we gossiped. Most of us found ways to tolerate it, but the brutal truth was that half of us were bored silly and the other half was desperately homesick. Hell, I’m from two towns over originally, but wanted nothing more than to hop in the car and drive home.”

“Which is why,” Paula continued, “we came up with the idea of juicing the newcomers. Especially ones from out of the country. Milktec formula makes everything better, but it takes away so much of the problems by giving everyone an outlet for their frustrations. That husband of yours is gonna have to tie his jaw up to keep it off the floor when he gets home. I remember how mine reacted.”

Vera grabbed the first cookie and ate it in three bites. She paused after the third to glug down a glass of milk. As she did, Betty slid one plate out of the way and put the next in front of her.

“Should start pretty soon. That brown skin is going to look luminescent once those tits fatten up. Shame this batch makes your pussy turn bald. Her hair is so shiny and black, I bet her pussy hair would look the same.”

Something wasn’t right. Vera was almost certain of that. These nice ladies kept saying things that didn’t make any sense, but her English wasn’t great. They also kept using American words she didn’t recognize. She didn’t know what a cat had to do with anything, or why it would lose its hair.

Betty returned with the pot of coffee, pouring some for the other two women while Vera continued cleaning plate after plate. “Now, sometimes this doesn’t stick so we’ll tell you again later. The food you’re eating is laced with something called Milktec Serum 113. It’s a mild form of the full blown stuff they use to make hucows, but it’s quite clever. It speeds up your metabolism and growth so you’ll be looking like us in no time. Which Sam is going to love.”

“And it turns on those titties for a little while,” Martha said. “The eggheads saw a way to kill two birds with one stone. Rather than waiting for everyday Milktec Milk to bolster up immune systems and bone density or whatever they’re always on about, they just baked it in to 113.”

“I know it sounds insane dear,” Paula said scooping out more of the banana pudding. “But, it’s just easier this way. In two days, your body will calm down and your hubby will be a brawny stud ready to take on all the work Milktec can throw at him.”

Vera’s thoughts were a blur. Her stomach felt more empty by the second, and her skin tingled with a strange warmth. The sari was loose by design, but it with each bite it seemed to grate against her skin a little more. Dimly, she realized the women had put something in the food, but she didn’t care. She wanted more of whatever it was. If they offered her a glass of the stuff, she would gulp it down with no hesitation.

“And once you’re actually settled, that’s when the real fun begins,” Martha said, nudging Paula.

Betty shushed them again. “You know that sort of life isn’t for everyone.”

“Not for everyone, just Nicole, you mean. That crazy prude, and you just know she’s having a good time herself while listening to the neighbors. Just wants to keep her man to herself.”

“Paula, please, Sam and Vera are from a whole other world. We can’t assume anything. Even if we would love to feel those silky brown thighs pressed against our head — ahem, gracious. We should get going. I think she’s getting pheremonal.”

Martha frowned, “Can’t we stay and watch?”

“No, you know the rules.”

The three of them stood up and collected the empty dishes. Vera looked disappointingly at the little remaining on her plate. She wanted to say something, but her tongue felt thick and clumsy. Paula patted her on the arm, “Don’t worry dear, it works out. Everything does here.”

“I recommend taking a nice long shower while everything situates itself,” Martha said. “Hot stream of water is always fun to play with, too.”

“I’ll come back once Sam gives the all clear. It’s going to be so much fun having you in the neighborhood,” Betty said.

A few minutes later, they were gone, and Vera stood in the middle of the entryway feeling extremely peculiar. She remembered someone mentioning a hot shower and decided that sounded nice.

The water dripped off her body as Vera’s mind lurched back to the moment. The shower’s heat was unreal, and it felt wonderful running over her naked skin. The heat inside her, though, was something altogether more amazing. It grew stronger every second and made her ache inside. She left the shower and dripped on the floor all the way to the bed. She didn’t bother to towel off, simply rolling on the clean comforter to dry herself. She heard a noise in the foyer and thought of Sam. His new name seemed better in her head, more American, more robust. She hugged her body at the thought of him and realized something was different.

“Divya?!” came a squeak from the doorway.

She lurched up to see her husband, mouth agape and eyes wide. “Vera, my darling,” she said. She spread her legs and leaned back against the pillows. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Sam barely recognized his wife. The wisp of a woman he loved was buried underneath a plush and soft goddess. Fat, caramel colored breasts sat on her chest, tipped with dark brown nipples. Between her spread, thick thighs was a bald pussy with dark lips spreading open to show their bright pink prize. His cock grew hard, chasing away the jet lag and mind fatigue of a long tour. “What…what has happened to you?”

“I’ve gone natural,” she cooed. She rolled to her side and laid down flat, twitching her butt for her husband. She’d always enjoyed their playful sexuality, but never felt like she had the body to truly entice him. The petite butt she’d had that morning was gone, replaced by a bubble that jiggled and wobbled with the slightest movement. “Come, see for yourself.”

He shuffled to the bed and sat down beside her, placing his hand on her lower back. The heat of her body excited him as much as the sly look over the shoulder as his hand ran down to cup her ass cheek. “You took some of the formula? But, my love, we agreed.”

“I didn’t know then,” she said. “I didn’t know what they would look like. How it would truly feel. Sam, we are part of this now. We must blend in, like you said. I was a speck among those women, and now I am glorious.” She arched up and brought him into a kiss. As she did, a pressure built in her breasts. The kiss ended as her lips parted in a smile. “And I have something special for you, too.”

She pulled him into the bed, stripping away his clothes. Nothing about this would have happened days before. They enjoyed one another’s bodies more than she thought most couples did, but never during the day and rarely in light of any sort. Now, she wanted him to see her curves, the rise and fall of her fat tits, and the dents his fingers would make in her thighs as he pulled her pussy down on his cock.

As she stripped away his clothes, a painful thought entered her head. He looked so small and withered. She could see the scars of the hard life behind them. When they met, he’d been young and strong, if underfed. Yet that had been drained away from him through years of office work and bad food. But no more, she knew. She kissed his naked chest, enjoying the familiar scent of him. He kicked his own underwear off, letting his cock wedge between her newly plump ass cheeks. She hoped he didn’t explode the second he was inside her.

Cowgirl was another new development. They’d tried it once or twice, but Sam always preferred being on top. Vera liked it too, finding it more intimate, but intimacy was a distant thought behind lust now. She raised up on her knees, pausing to let her husband see the engorged and wet pussy hovering above his cock. Slowly, she dropped her hips, pleased to see her prediction come true as he grabbed her hips and tried to pull her down. The head of his cock pushed against her pussy, causing Sam to groan. “Not yet,” she teased, rocking her hips such that his cock head slid along the slick entrance. “First, your present.”

The pressure in her breasts had built to an extreme. Even with their new size, she could tell the skin was distended and tight. Her puffy nipples ached for touch, and she instinctively knew why. Moving her body up, she dragged her swollen boobs along Sam’s body until they slapped against his face. She smiled to feel him kiss and lick. Moving, she positioned her nipple over his open mouth and brought her hand up. With a gentle squeeze, the first drops of milk splashed on Sam’s tongue. His eyes opened wide as he processed the taste of his wife’s milk. “Divya?”

“Drink,” she said, pressing the nipple into his mouth. He needed no further instruction, sucking hard on the nipple. His mouth flooded with rich tasting milk. Vera sighed, happy to feel him drawing her milk out and relieved that some of the tension in her breasts was relieved. In a sympathetic response, her free breast leaked, dripping small beads of milk onto Sam’s shoulder. He pawed at her thighs, moaning around her gushing nipple, and she remembered the throbbing cock grazing against her soaked lips. With a smile, she pushed down, sliding him inside her with ease.

His body bent up in blissful response, but he never stopped sucking. More and more of her milk filled his mouth as his cock throbbed inside the impossible warmth of her tight pussy. She drove herself down to the root of his cock, wriggled back and forth, and relished the feeling of his balls squished against her rump while her clit rubbed against the bump of flesh above his cock. She thought she could cum simply from grinding with him fully sheathed inside of her, but knew that wouldn’t be as fun. With gentle movements, she raised up until the head of his cock slipped out of her. She waited for his frustrated whimpers before sliding back down, ecstatic to feel her walls stretch around him. “That’s it,” she moaned. “Fill me up with your cock while you suck me dry. You’ll get all big and strong. Every day, you’ll come home and fuck me silly. I can wait for you with my legs spread or my ass up in the air. Whatever you want.”

Her breast pulled away. Sam gurgled, licking at a stream of milk leaking down the side of his mouth. “I feel strange…”

“It’ll all be better soon,” she said, dropping her pussy all the way on his cock. “Keep drinking.” She squeezed her free breast, sending an arc of milk splattering across his face. He grinned and slurped the other nipple into his mouth, sucking hard as more of the rich cream filled his mouth.

“Yes, like that, Sam. Suck my titties. Suck milk from my udders. I’m your hucow wife, fit for fucking and sucking and nothing else. Oh, you’re going to make me cum with my nipple spurting in your mouth. Oh…OH!”

He sucked hard, a thick stream of milk gushing into his mouth as he pulled her hard against him. Her pussy clamped down on his cock as it sent streams of cum splashing into her womb. His cock jerked and spasmed inside of her, driven on by the massaging pussy tightened around it. Sam finally let go of her nipple, sitting up against Vera and burying his face between her breasts as he pulled her against him. His balls tightened against him as they emptied, draining every last drop of cum into his new hucow wife. When the torrent finally stopped, he dropped back to the bed and looked through bleary eyes at his wife.

She sat on top of him, his cum and her cream leaking out around the cock still stuffed in her pussy. Her tits dripped freely, white milk rolling down over her lush, brown tits. Her huge brown eyes glittered with love and delight, “I think we’re going to like it here.”

At Milktec Industries, we believe the lifeblood of our success is good, old-fashioned American go-getter attitude. And still, we have every opportunity to expand that vision, to augment it with other specialties from the world over. The New Patriot Program offers a chance to highly skilled individuals from countries far and wide to bring a new spark to Milktec Industries. With their help, we will meet the future with a global attitude where values — whether American, British, French, Indian, Japanese, anywhere on the whole globe and maybe even beyond! — lead the way for technology and science! So, when a New Patriot arrives in your neighborhood, greet them with a fresh glass of Milktec Brand Milk!