"Or, I suppose I should say, Sharon Hendrickson?" Mary asked, coyly. The reporter's blood ran cold, staring at this mountain of a woman who looked back with an almost smug satisfaction,like a cat that had caught a mouse. Slowly, Sharon stood up from behind the desk, her tense gaze remained fixed upon the intimidating person in front of her.
"The girls on that chart, in that video. Who were they. Where did they come from?" The reporter asked, stalling as she tried to come up with an escape plan.
"Couldn't have waited for our interview, huh? I swear I was on my way in." Mary insisted, stepping to the side as the two armed guards from before filed into the cramped office.
"I'll indulge you with an answer, it doesn't make a difference now, anyway. Those girls are my property, volunteered to work for me."
"Bullshit, they volunteered! Where did they come from?!" Sharon pressed, the guards approaching with menace, their weapons trained squarely on her. Mary folded her arms and let out an amused scoff.
"A few of them were headhunted. Wet nurses, mothers of multiple pregnancies, they seemed like ideal candidates at first." She said,
"But it turned out that my science team did a better job than expected. Stuff like that didn't matter, our process could be applied to anime with mammaries, I could make anyone I wanted into fat ol' dairy cow!"
Mary let out a boom of laughter as Sharon shifted, grabbing the monitor off the desk and holding it at the ready as a makeshift weapon. The guards paused and the reporter used her second of bought time to question further.
"So you kidnapped people, is that it?" She asked, preparing to attack at any moment.
"I like to think of it as offering a generous employment opportunity." Mary said, matter-of-factly.
"But, our selection process did yield an unexpected boon when it came to the removal of certain unwanted individuals."
The two guards approached Sharon, their weapons trained on her as one produced a set of zipties and maneuvered closer to restrain the trespassing reporter. Sharon threw the monitor stunning one of the guards as she tried to run past, rounding the desk as she made a mad dash to the exit. The other guard took aim, preparing to fire when the towering tyrant stepped in front of the door.
"Don't shoot, you idiot! I want her alive." Mary barked, thrusting a powerful hand outward and clamping onto Sharon's shoulder, trapping the reporter in place for the goons to restrain.
"How'd you know I was here?" She asked as the guard grabbed her arms and began to fasten the ties. Mary laughed a dismissive laugh and shook her head.
"I was notified the second you left the conference room, Sugar." The colossal corporate figurehead explained.
"I had thought about letting security stop you right then and there, but I did a little homework on you and came up with a much better idea. Though, and I'll admit, it was pretty funny when the REAL Michelle Mendelssohn showed up for work today."
The reporter was only made more nervous by Mary's cryptic declaration, having little time to think about it as the guard pulled the zipties tight, binding Sharon's wrists as she was marched out into the hallway. Mary stood to the side, smiling all the while, seeing the confusion on Sharon's face, enjoying every moment of it as she began to walk, the guards pulling their new captive in tow.
"A journalism degree from Syracuse, two nominations and one win for the Goldsmith Investigative Reporting prize, you fancy yourself a real Nancy Drew type, don't you?" Mary said, idly listing accolades as she walked down the sterile hallways of the genetics wing, stopping before a large hydraulic door, her goons dragging Sharon along when the reporter finally spoke.
"You can't keep me here, you have no legal right." She said, gritting her teeth. Mary merely laughed as the door opened, revealing an open room with a sinister operating table in the centre, the same one from the video Sharon watched alone in the vacant office.
"Of course I don't, but I'm certain you know by now legality isn't much of a priority here." Mary said, gesturing the guards to the table.
"So, you're going to kill me then? As if the free press doesn't know I'm supposed to be here? If I go missing they'll know it was you!" Sharon said, resisting the authoritative pull of her captors as they lead her to the centre table, lined with various straps and holds meant to restrain whomever was placed upon it.
"Well, Nancy Drew." Mary said, slipping on a pair of XL latex gloves.
"That's the funny thing about it. I don't intend to kill you, but I can't let you go, either. You know how this works, you've seen too much. So that leaves the dilemma of what to do with you and how to deal with any Nosy Nora's that might come looking for you."
"And?" Sharon asked nervously, struggling against the guards grasp. Mary just smiled, watching from a distance.
"And, my solution to the dilemma is simple. Do you know who recently sponsored this year's Police Ball? If you guessed lil ol' me, you'd be correct!" The enormous woman laughed with a chipper smile as she prepared some sort of equipment.
"So you bought off the cops, big whoop. People are still gonna come looking for me!" Sharon countered.
"No, they won't." Mary said matter-of-factly.
"As of this afternoon, Sharon Hendrickson was pronounced legally dead. Freak car accident, she was in a cab that went right off the Brooklyn bridge! How tragic."
As the room filled with the self-satisfied laughter of the cruel women that had taken her captive, Sharon was mortified at what she was hearing, recalling the face of the cab driver that ferried her to he interview in the first place, likely drowned at the bottom of the Hudson River. As the guards cut the ties around her wrists in order to properly strap her onto the intimidating table, the young reporter knew she had no choice. She had to break away now at the risk of being shot, or face a life of whatever Miss Mary had in store. Throwing her shoulder, every ounce of her weight with it, into the guard closest to the door, Sharon bolted free, taking the very brief window to sprint to the door. There were shouts, commands to stop, but Sharon paid them no mind, running blindly as she expected to feel the heat of a bullet tear through her chest cavity. Instead she was stopped, halted in her tracks by a menacing form far more agile than she expected. Standing between her and the door stood Mary, her iron grip fastened around the reporter's neck, squeezing the air right out of her punished lungs.
"Come on, sugar. You're gonna have to do better than that." Mary said casually, hoisting Sharon up by her own neck with ease. She pounded her fists on Mary's tree trunk of an arm, hoping to loosen the tyrants hold on her.
"Why.. are you doing this?" Sharon croaked out with what little breath she had. Mary simply slammed the reporter onto the operating table, holding her in place while the two disheveled guards strapped her down.
"Why, what?" Mary asked, her tone dipped in honey.
"Why am I letting you live? Why did I instruct security to let you find your way down here? Why did I start a multi-million dollar dairy drink brand built off the backs of some very literal human resources?!" She asked with theatrics as her voice crescendoed, backing away from the table. Sharon winced as the last of the buckles holding her in place was pulled taught, unable to move, only struggle in place. Mary chuckled, selecting a large syringe from a prepared tray of instruments and loomed over the tortured reporter, her trademark smile painted across her face.
"Because I wanted to, Nancy Drew! Because when I have an idea, no matter how big or how small, I see it through. Even if it involves spending millions of dollars on black market pharma R&D to figure out how to make women gigantic with some fat ass titties." She laughed, giving the syringe a flick before she plunged it into Sharon's neck. The fluid within the syringe drained into her body as she struggled helplessly against it.
"But why not use real cows?! This is so fucked up!" Heather shouted, panicked and sweating under the heat of the light over head. Mary placed an enormous hand on her face, as if to comfort the distressed reporter before giving her a few gentle-yet-dismissive pats on the cheek.
"That would be so wrote, you know? And I never do things the easy way, no ma'am! Have you ever seen that skinflick about the two giant sluts that fight in San Francisco?* The idea came to me after catching it on tv one night and I thought 'you know, I bet I have the capital to get that off the ground'." Mary said, replacing the empty syringe for another.
"When I told my chief geneticist my plan, he couldn't believe it either! He was so certain we could use this to inoculate millions of people to do my bidding, create an army of super-powered drones from anybody that drank my products, but I shot him down! I'm ambitious but world domination just sounds tiresome, y'know? I just want the success, the reputation, a product that every low-rent YouTuber and small-fry podcast will happily shill for as long as I keep paying their bills! A product that millions of stupid idiots buy every day because some d-list celebrity endorses it! That and the bit of scratch I make on the side selling camera feed footage from the enclosures to horny billionaires. The money is nice, but I did it because I knew I could. Because I wanted to. I think that's quite empowering, don't you?"
"Burn in hell" Was all Sharon could say, tears welling in her eyes as she felt the effects of whatever Mary injected into her take hold.
"Indignant to the last, Nancy Drew. I don't like you, but I can respect your gumption, so let these last words to you be my parting gift. When you go under, you likely won't be waking up again for a long, long time so when you sleep, I want you to dream of me. I want my face to be the only thing you see, I want my voice to be the only thing you hear. I want you to drift off to neverland so broken and defeated, that death would be a mercy for you. I want you to wish for that while we change you into a useless cow with no purpose on this earth but make me money." Mary said, letting every spiteful word drip out as Sharon, her consciousness rapidly fading, could only cry.
"It's been so long since I've been down in the lab, I forgot how much fun with this!" The malevolent mountain of a woman said, turning to the guards with glee.
"Well, that's what you pay me for, Mary." Another voice said as a figure walked into view. Sharon's vision was clouded, but she saw the shape of a man, somewhat small and soft looking, staring down at her.
"She's all yours, Antoine." Mary said, removing her gloves. Sharon saw the man nod before turning back to look at her, leaning in close to inspect the company's newest property.
"Hello, Number 19. Welcome to the rest of your life."
----
There was the sound of a crack, sharp and terrible as foundation and masonry were torn asunder, powerless to stop the burgeoning tide of growth. Heather, Patrice, Alejandra, and several other women, presumably other cattle of Miss Mary's burst forth from the sub-level of the enclosures, up into the formulation floor. The workers were caught by totals surprise, the expanse of the sub-floor proving too large to escape from as those caught near the epicentre of the growing heifers were overtaken by their expanding bodies. The tanks and vats of milk shattered and spilled, sending creamy white tidal waves crashing down into the breach the girls rose up from, drenching them in the flood. Not that any of the growing giantesses paid the chaos much mind, their bodies still so rapt in their orgasmic expansion that they had little else to think about as they rose higher and higher towards the 80ft ceiling of sub floor 11
"And here we have our top-secret formulation lab! Here, all our product, sourced from local dairy farmers, is infused with our patented, all organic nutrient formula! Please, no flash photography." Mary said in a sweet, performative voice as the veritable Amazon led the tour group through her facility. Behind her, dozens of smiling workers clad in lab coats toiled, pouring various fluids into beakers and flasks, simulating the appearance of real work within a small, looking nothing like the REAL formulation lab down below. In truth, these actors were here to perpetuate a version of the sinister company that wasn't real, parading around like Oompa Loompahs to Miss Mary's Willy Wonka. The tour group oohed and awed at the flashy theatrics and cheery environment, eating out of their guide's hand like the gullible sheep she needed them to be. But as Mary turned to continue the tour, the lights flickered in a peculiar way as glass bottles and jars clinked against the countertops, shaking as a slight tremor rocked the building. The group paused, with some more dramatic attendees dropping to the floor to shield themselves from any potential disaster as the ground beneath them shook ever so slightly. The Eponymous Miss looked around, confused, her outwardly sweet demeanour dropping momentarily before lighting up with a bright smile as she attempted to regain controlled the situation.
"Goodness, that was odd." Mary said, looking out to the somewhat-rattled crowd.
"I think they're doing some construction down in the subway tunnels. Please, let's continue."
With the tremor gone, the tour group seemed satisfied with Mary's lie, the excursion resuming as the faux workers began their routine again. Not long after the group of enthusiastic tourists and fans of the Miss Mary's brand continued their tour, however, another slight quake was felt, followed by an aftershock that rippled and rumbled throughout the floor. The vibrations slowed, seemingly subsiding before an ear-splitting alarm was sounded, followed by more powerful tremors, each one building in intensity. The crowd began to panic with frightened screams and worried shouts tossed around as the world shook itself apart around them.
"Please, everyone! Remain calm!" Mary ordered, trying to reign control of the group back in.
"Obviously, we're experiencing some kind of seismic phenomenon, please follow the the signs to the gift shop, I promise you will be safe there!"
As she waved the group past herself, the tremendous woman knew that the blaring alarm was not meant to signal some kind of natural disaster, it was meant to warn of a breach. Never in her years of running her company had she heard the alarm sound, it's shrill siren a herald of grave importance, signifying the worst case scenario. Those that knew the true source of Miss Mary's product within the company knew of the gravity the alarm held, something only to be used when the proverbial shit hit the fan, and with the feeling the violent vibrations rocketing through her headquarters, the monstrous mogul knew that her time of reckoning had come. Quickly, Mary moved against the deluge of nervous workers fleeing the rumbling building, flocking to her for answers as to what was going on. Irritated, the enormous woman pushed them aside and continued towards a way deeper into the headquarters, fighting to stay upright as the quakes became more and more powerful when it happened.
Out of the floor in front of her, a massive arm burst forth into the main floor hallway, demolishing the fixtures above as the growing woman it belonged to clawed her way up from the sub-levels. Mary recognized the gigantic girl before, as she would any of her cattle, her property. Continuing to swell through the ruined hallway was Kisume Soto, heifer number 11, easily three times as tall as she was the last time Mary saw her, now at a whopping 100ft and climbing.
"Shit!" Mary shouted, turning around to find another path, barrelling through the confused employees as they stared with slack-jawed confusion at the literal giantess that had emerged. Mary didn't have time to answer their questions, navigating the cramped corridors of her headquarters as she raced to find another way down amidst the chaos. As she pushed through hurried crowds of workers and secretaries, the shattering of marbled tile shot through the halls as Mary turned her head in horror to see another body coming up through the floor of the building's main lobby. This one, dark skin glistening with sweat and milk and dust, glorious hair puffed outward in an unflappable afro, was Patrice Desjardins, heifer number 16, rising up onto the ground floor. The tile split away even further as two more figures reached up towards the light, numbers 20 and 22, Alejandra Cabrera and Heather Cunningham. It was a sight to behold, this trio of women, bodies like fertility idols, milk raining down like a storm as they overtook the hapless lobby with their encroaching curves in a display of unstoppable feminine power, their bodies shooting towards at least 125ft in height.
"What the fuck is going on!" Mary roared in disbelief, watching as her entire empire very literally crumbled from beneath her. The sound of cracking concrete and twisting metal was drowned out by the soft, yet enveloping moans of pleasure from the growing heifers, with more moans audible from below growing louder, a sign that more were yet to emerge. Spinning on her heels, Mary sprinted to the nearest elevator and hammered on the button to descend, praying the integrity of the building would hold long enough for her to make it down. She heard the crashing and smashing of more and more destruction from beyond the walls of her tiny metal elevator, fearing that there may not be anything left for her to investigate when the doors opened.
Meanwhile, the scene above continued to prove no less chaotic as several of the growing giantesses broke through the external facade of the Miss Mary's Dairy building, spilling into the streets of bustling downtown Manhattan as their unchecked growth continued. Few words were uttered as the relative serenity of the New York minute was suddenly interrupted by the presence of the strange and beautiful giants, crashing into the urban sprawl like a force of nature. The pedestrians on the street saw the avalanche of milky voluptuousness descend upon the busy intersection, the deafening crunch and crash of broken masonry and glass mixing with the unmistakable sounds of pleasure that emanated from the impossibly large girls as they grew. The cacophony of chaos only worsened as many turned tail, screaming hysterics as they fled while others stared with a rapturous awe of the various women of all sorts that came crashing out, each one gigantic and curvier than Venus herself. The drivers did not fair any better as the streets became a mess of goddesses and milk, convulsing and cooing as their bodies shot outward in all directions, blocking traffic completely. As the living roadblocks came down, many drivers attempted to flee as well, turning into the opposite lanes of traffic in the slight hopes of escaping the insane situation, only to be trapped as more giantesses burst forth from below the street. The luckiest were the people above in the high rises and sky scrapers surrounding the scene, safe to observe the chaos below, subject only to the slight rumblings of the wild activity. For what seemed like an eternity, more and more heifers broke free onto the surface, growing larger and larger, their engorged breasts raining torrents of milk down upon the world below until the last of them emerged. There, like a scene more wild and depraved than any mind could conjure, twenty-giantesses lay, slowly expanding into the already crowded intersection.
Back beneath the streets, below the Miss Mary's headquarters, the elevator door slid open and the aggravated Amazon bolted in a sprint. The formulation sub-floor had been completely levelled with nothing left standing as the heifers outgrew their way upwards.
"This is going to be a PR nightmare." Mary said, a long drawn sigh escaping her chest as she quickened her pace deeper downward. Passing a demolished channel where rivers of rich milk once flowed, she saw a chasm torn into the concrete, a gaping hole dug out from the now milk-flooded enclosures below. These subfloors were the epicentre of the Miss Mary's company, housing the malicious milk magnate's precious livestock and treating every drop of milk she sold. From the foundation to the workforce, there was nothing left standing, nothing salvageable that could be reused if she ever hoped to resume her abhorrent business. Slumping her shoulders, Mary felt a sense of defeat, a feeling the psychopathic woman hadn't felt in years, perhaps decades. Everything she worked so hard to create, the company she spearheaded to international success, had been destroyed in seconds.
And Mary was pissed.
----
Heather shot awake, sending a spray of milk outward as she found herself pressed between the bodies of Alejandra and another woman, a brunette she hadn't seen before. Her resulting jolt startled her Latin comrade awake who sat upright in a similar manner, only to feel her head collide with the side of a downtown office building. The exterior of the building stood no chance as Alejandra's head smashed through like a wrecking ball against a sheet of dry wall.
"¡Estoy bien!" She groaned to Heather, who had watched the scene unfold in a state of total shock. Alejandra scratched her head before looking to the befuddled blonde, confused at what had her so shaken.
"¿Qué?" She asked, an eyebrow raised as Heather merely stared in silence and pointed to the wall behind the confused woman. Slowly, Alejandra turned to see what the younger girl was so worked up by, seeing a perplexing sight. Staring back at her was a man, scurrying backwards, away from the enormous hole she had knocked into the office building. And as Alejandra had that realization, she looked around and saw the scope of their situation. She was huge, the transformations her body underwent being far more extreme than she ever could have imagined. The cramped New York streets seemed like an extremely detailed miniature model, with toy cars and tiny people. But as she saw the tiny people run and breathed in the outside air, the first fresh air Alejandra had breathed in years, the milky titaness was certain what she saw was all real. Alejandra was not the only one among the group of giantesses to come to grips with their new reality, however, as frightened shrieks and more gasps of horror began to resonate from among titanic women as they roused front their growth-induced trance
"What the fuck is going on!?" Heather shouted, looking at the madness that surrounded her. The commotion roused a few more of the hazy-headed heifers, including the brunette woman next to.
"I think I know. I think I can explain everything." The woman said, holding her head as though she has just woken up from the longest hangover of her life. She turned to he busty blonde, giving her a tired smile, but before she could speak, a call rang out amidst the cramped metropolitan landscape.
"Heather!? Where'd you go, girl?" Patrice called out, her powerful voice echoing across the busy street.
"I'm over here with Alejandra! We're ok! Heather called back, relieved to hear the older woman's voice. Down around the corner of the intersection, Patrice stood up among the group, rising to a full standing height for the first time since she was captured by Miss Mary. Despite the years of inactivity, the 200ft woman's body felt stronger than ever and rose with perfect balance, even with the weight of her extremely enlarged features. As she took a few cautious steps through the mess of milk and cars, her heavy feet sinking into the soft Tarmac with each footfall, Patrice carefully walked to her friends and helped them to their feet, sharing a hug as best their monster-sized tits would allow.
"Crazy day, huh?" Patrice asked, looking back on the others as they slowly rose to their feet, their faculties returning to them as the last of the sedatives and growth supplement wore off.
"You don't know the half of it." The un-introduced brunette interjected, folding her arms as the wail of sirens, fire trucks and first responders drew closer.
"Patrice, this lady said she knows what happened to us." Heather explained, turning to the unknown woman.
"What's your name? I'm Heather."
"Sharon Hendrickson, it's nice to meet you Heather." The reporter replied, getting used to the sights and sounds of the outside world after spending the last two years as one of Mary's heifers.
----
"Antoine! You better be in here!!" Mary roared as she kicked the door off its hinges, barging into the control room, miraculously left untouched by the breach. She scanned the room, finding it to be devoid of anyone, kicking a desk chair against the wall in frustration. Quickly, the mountainous woman, steaming with rage, accessed the main console, hoping to find the cause while cursing her engineer's sudden disappearance. Using her executive access, she brought up a log of the console's recent activity, noting the alterations to the levels of growth hormone and sedative administered in the heifers' feeding tubes.
"That little weasel. That fucking bastard." Mary said, fuming quietly. This was not an accident, this was not a mistake, her chief geneticist knew exactly what he was doing when he released all the safety measures and disabled the enclosure alarms. Nobody saw it coming. She clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles cracked and with a roar slammed her massive hands down upon the console, smashing it's keyboard and heavily denting the metal frame that housed it. Panting, Mary stepped back, silently contemplating how she would rectify this situation, how she could spin this in her favour. She had some of the press in her pocket, surely she had enough money to make this problem go away. But as she stood in quiet thought, there was another tremor, another quake. The lights above flickered as dust rained down, the already battered foundation groaning against the tonnes upon tonnes of women that had been loosed upon the city streets above. As the shaking grew more violent, a fixture above came loose, crashing onto the floor in front of the beleaguered business woman who stared blankly at the fallen piece of equipment before turning to flee before he whole world came down around her.
----
The police and fire department arrived to a rather perplexing sight. Forming in a circle within the intersection, the heifers sat and talked and laughed. Sharon had explained her run-in with Miss Mary, relaying how she learned the vile truth of where the insidious company got its product, how Mary used tours and contests to lure in potential victims, how she was keen to subject anyone she didn't like to a twisted term of servitude. This, in turn, prompted the discussion of how each of the heifers came to be sitting in that Manhattan intersection, the girls going one by one, telling their stories. A few members of the group, rightfully spooked as they came to grips with their new reality, had fled, stomping off into the city, desperate to outrun their fate. Indeed, the things that had happened to the heifers, the transformations they underwent, they were difficult to accept. But the girls that remained found comfort in each other, strength in their combined hardships, bonding as they opened up to one another. The authorities on the scene were dumbstruck, any attempts to relocate the assembly of giantesses going unnoticed and unsuccessful as the massive women, all stark naked and dripping with milk, sat peacefully and talked. Ultimately, all the police and first responders could do was evacuate anybody nearby while keeping the rest of the city away from the group, counting their blessings that the titanic women didn't seem to mean any harm.
"And that's the last thing I remember!" One giantess boomed, her think New Jersey accent hanging off lips with every word of her story.
"That's crazy, Sabrina! I can't believe anyone would be petty enough to kidnap someone over some fashion advice." Heather chuckled.
"Well if you had the stones to wear what Mary was wearing, you'd do the same!" Sabrina, the jersey girl said, erupting in a howl, her heavy, milk laden breasts shaking with with each jovial guffaw as the group of girls shared a laugh. In the surrounding streets of Manhattan, gaggles of onlookers had assembled to catch an eyeful of ruckus downtown, held behind the hastily-constructed perimeter established by the NYPD. Thousands had gathered to see the gigantic women, with social media alight with activity and pictures capturing the events as they unfolded. With anxious attention, the world watched, waiting to see what the top-heavy titanesses would do next, nervous of the potential danger as headlines about a few stray giantesses hitting the outlying suburbs of New York began coming in. But to the relief of many within the city, the strange sisterhood that had assembled out of the now-ruined Miss Mary's headquarters seemed content to sit patiently and wait for the proper authorities to arrive as they enjoyed each other's company, getting to know one another as friends through their shared tribulations. Their conversations echoed through the streets of the dense New York borough, but when a quiet moment came, Heather felt a subtle sadness wash over her, one that Patrice noticed.
"Heather? What's up, girl?" She asked tenderly, placing a hand on the sullen blonde's shoulder. Heather forced a smile, looking around the circle of women who looked back warmly, friends forged through their harrowing nightmare.
"I just.. I'm glad you guys are able to share your stories, but I still can't remember how I fit in to all this. I'd never even heard of this stupid company until today!" The New Yorker said with a pout.
"All I can remember from before is my fiancé, and it hurts to think about that. He certainly wouldn't want me now, even if he did wait around for me."
With tears welling in her eyes, Heather forced another smile, a nervous laugh breaking as she tried to hide her pain but couldn't. Patrice wrapped her arm around the young girl and gave her a loving hug, as did Alejandra, understanding that her new friend was distraught, even if she couldn't understand why. The rest of the group offered their support, consoling their saddened sister, but Heather's lament came with a heavy reminder for everyone. Thy were free now, but each of them were ripped from their lives, some for multiple years, forced to live as the grotesque livestock of a power-mad bitch while time passed them by.
"What are we gonna do?" Cassie, one of the younger heifers close to Heather's age, asked solemnly." Nobody spoke for a few moments, each of the massive women considering what to do next when the silence was broken by the mechanical whirring of rotor blades. Over a row of high rises descended a lone news chopper, the first to get airborne and investigate gathering of busty babes that assembled downtown. Lazily, it circled the group, pulling far closer than any of the girls would have expected, marvelling at the miniature aircraft as it hovered by. Sharon, having ridden in her fair share of news helicopters, saw the opportunity such a vessel could provide, a reliable means to tell her story, their story, to as many people. As possible.
"Hey!" Sharon shouted, her voice far louder than she was aware of, but nevertheless, the chopper altered course, hanging in front of the massive brunette's face.
"My name is Sharon Hendrickson, reporter for the New York Free Press, have I got a story for you guys."
The rest of the girls watched as Sharon brokered an agreement, the news helicopter communicating with the towering reporter through their onboard loud speaker as best they could. Eventually, Sharon turned to the rest of her group with a smile.
"Ok, ladies! We're going to Central Park!"she announced, a place suggested by the news crew in conjunction with the local police as its openness would provide the heifers with some freedom to move around without causing too much damage. carefully the massive women stood up, each of them towering above the punished New York street. However, as Sharon herself stood up, the foundation beneath her collapsed, causing the brunette to trip backwards into the ruined Miss Mary's headquarters, sending streams of milk high into the air.
Meanshile, down below, Mary rounded the corridor back into the demolished formulation sub-floor, sunlight peaking through the hole in the ceiling where her cattle had broken free, when she saw it coming. High above on the city streets, one of her heifers was falling down, her scientifically fattened-ass eclipsing the sun above as she descended onto the rubble with a tremendous boom. The main floor gave away against the tonnes of weight that collided with it and the 200ft brunette fell deeper into the sub-floor. Mary had less than a second to respond, standing perfectly still, paralyzed as one of her prized creations careened towards her, certain to flatten the tyrant beneath the incalculable mass of the humongous heifer. The force of the impact deepened the hole torn into the earth where the initial breach occurred, sending Mary's broken body plummeting into the milk flooded rubble of the enclosures.
Heather quickly jumped to Sharon's aid, helping the grounded girl up, both of them oblivious to the ramifications of Sharon's little tumble.
"Thank's." Sharon said, smiling as she tried to downplay her slight embarrassment. Heather smiled and pulled the reporter along a few steps as the rest of the heifers began to migrate towards Central Park, leaving rich trails of milk in their wake.
"Hey, Heather?" Sharon asked, stepping around a bus full of tourists.
"What's up?" The blonde answered back, a softness in her tone. Sharon stopped walking as she turned to look to the younger girl. When she entered the Miss Mary's Dairy headquarters, the intrepid reporter didn't know she was walking into a story so impossibly grand that she almost didn't come back. And while the circumstances of her freedom, all 200 feet of it, was certainly unlike anything she would have ever imagined, Sharon felt a responsibility to see the truth exposed. She learned a great deal from the other heifers and their own fateful encounters with Miss Mary, but Heather's past was a mystery, one the reporter wanted to solve more than anything. Sharon put a hand on the beautiful blonde's shoulder and smiled.
"I want you to know that I'll do everything I can to figure out how you got wrapped up in all this. I know you want answers, I wanna help you get them."
Heather smiled back, saying nothing as the two took a few more steps into the city. Ahead, Patrice and Alejandra walked together, giggling to each other as they held hands and carefully navigated the tight streets of Manhattan. Brushing against an unoccupied bus stop, accidentally crumpling the tiny metal frame as her foot soared by, the short haired Latina turned back to Heather and Sharon with a look of embarrassment before waving them on to catch up.
"Thank you, Sharon." Heather said, graciously.
"Gotta flex that investigative journalism degree somehow." The brunette replied, chuckling as they joined their hurried to re-join their friends, bringing up the rear of the literal parade of gigantic women that moved through the busy metropolis. As they neared their destination, Heather watched her friends before her as Patrice, still holding Alejandra's hand, pulled in close, nibbling at the short-haired girl's neck who giggled a flustered protest in Spanish. Breaking their handhold, Alejandra retaliated by planting a firm hand on Patrice's curvaceous booty, digging her fingers in as she playfully shook her partner's fat ass, looking back to Heather with a mischievous wink as the blonde gave an approving nod back.
"You better me some Spanish, quick, Heather. Or else you're gonna end up as our permanent translator." Patrice teased.
"More like permanent 3rd wheel." Sharon laughed. Heather said nothing, laughing along with her new friends as they neared their destination. For the young New Yorker, the day's events were harrowing and exhausting. Her past was clouded in shadow, the mystery of her involvement looming large in her mind, but instead of sadness, Heather felt comfort, optimism. With her sisters by her side, Heather felt empowered to find the truth, ready to face the uncertain future, together.
----
Long after the chaos of the afternoon had left, long after the search and rescue teams had come and gone, the halls of the clandestine laboratories beneath Miss Mary's Dairy headquarters sat empty for the first time in years. Glistening beneath the moonlight, pools of milk rippled dozens of feet below street level as the exposed enclosures were bathed in the glow of the moon. There was a tranquil serenity, juxtaposing the destruction mayhem that had been wrought but hours earlier, when the peaceful scene was interrupted. Pockets of air bubbled up to the surface of the deep rivers of milk, with each of the 24 enclosures still pumping out the extreme growth hormone concoction meant for the heifer's feeding tubes. The milk, tainted with the powerful transformative chemicals, chopped and churned, the surface mottled with waves of increasing intensity as though something were stirring in the creamy-white depths. There was quiet, if only for a moment before a large hand emerged from below, reaching for the very heavens themselves as it swelled slightly, growing larger by the second.
THE END(?)