Cow Girl Laura, Parts 1-3

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Summary: Spin-off within the Cow Girl Series. Decades following Lucy's ordeal, the cow-person condition is becoming an epidemic. Laura has the misfortune of contracting the gene. Contains: Pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, multiple breasts, udders, lactation, and more.

This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.

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1.

“Thanks for…that,” said Laura awkwardly to the well-endowed, half-naked boy standing in the hallway outside of her dorm room door. She shoved his shirt into his chest.

A wolfish grin spread across Brad’s face as he accepted his shirt. “Thank you too.” He leaned down to kiss her.

Laura pushed him away by the face. She then closed the door, sighed, and returned to her bedroom for some much-needed rest.

Over the next few days, Laura began to notice that her body temperature seemed higher than usual. She constantly felt heated and was unsure of why. Laura also found that her nipples were somewhat more sensitive, and that her breasts sometimes tingled with the same heat that filled the rest of her body.

Laura’s clothing became slightly more awkwardly fitting on her, and less comfortable than she was used to the attire being. It was only as she was examining herself in the mirror one morning that she began to take notice of her changes—more specifically, her growth. As a slim woman of nineteen, she had always worn an A-cup bra that was admittedly loose on her flat chest. But now her chest was filling the bra out. She had gentle mounds where the skin had been almost entirely flat. Laura wasn’t about to complain.

She continued on with her typical routine. On the weekends, she would stay out all night, partying with her friends. On Sunday mornings, she would bundle up in a blanket and flip through channels in the dorm living room. Sometimes she would stop at the news, and hear snippets regarding the cow-person epidemic. She would shudder to herself, then continue channel-surfing.

It wasn’t long before Laura’s breasts had begun to bulge against the cups of her now tightly-fitting bras. She was puzzled, yet pleased. Laura also began to notice that the hair on her pubic hair was thinning out, and required less-frequent waxing than usual. In the meantime, her backside was filling out—it was definitely larger than usual. Her hair had grown longer and thicker, and most strangely, her green iris’ seemed wider than they had ever been before.

Laura started to get attention—lots of it. The men at her university took to watching her in a way they never had previously. Some even approached her, requesting a date. Laura couldn’t deny that she was enjoying it. She started to dress more provocatively, wearing tight crop shirts and spandex leggings. She showed off the curves of her athletic body. She continued to go out drinking every weekend, the good times sometimes bleeding into Mondays. One night, she must have taken things too far, because she woke up in the hospital.

Laura’s eyes darted about the room. She had an IV line in her right arm. She must have been admitted for dehydration. Sitting up, she tried to disconnect the device.

“You’re awake.” A female doctor entered.

“What happened? Did I pass out again?”

The doctor frowned.

“Look, I know the drill. You get me hydrated then free up the bed. Is my discharge paperwork ready?”

“Ms. Lawrence, I’m afraid this is a little more serious than a hangover. Were you aware that you were pregnant?”

Laura blinked. “What?” she said blankly.

It was the last thing Laura wanted to hear. She was always careful—always made sure the guys used condoms. She hadn’t had sex in weeks. Not since her one-night stand with that jock guy, Brad.

Laura went back to the college and paced her dorm. She growled under her breath, disgusted, debating, and resenting herself.

Her family was conservative. No matter what, they couldn’t find out. Not about the pregnancy and not about what she was planning to do about it.

Laura absently scratched her ribs. She slid her hand beneath her bandeau top, rubbing at an itchy bump just under her left breast. On the surface, it felt like a large bug bite. But she could feel the knot beneath her skin as well, like a cyst or something. Laura heaved a sigh. This was the least of her problems. She removed her fingers from her top then walked to the couch, where she sat down with her laptop, and began to browse the women’s clinics in her area.

It was only a few days later that Laura was sitting in a hospital gown in a medical office of the abortion clinic a few blocks away from the college. She rubbed the bandage on the inside of her forearm. She had been made to do extensive bloodwork as a preliminary measure. Laura was sure that the nurse had taken at least eight vials of blood from her. I just want to get this over with, Laura thought as she fidgeted where she was perched on the medical bed.

The door opened and two people in lab coats entered the room: a man and a woman.

“Finally,” said Laura impatiently.

But the doctors were frowning at her, much the way the physician at the hospital had.

What is it this time? Laura wondered anxiously. She suddenly feared that she was about to receive some horrible diagnosis.

“Because of your blood work results, Ms. Lawrence, things have become a little…complicated. I see that you have the gene.”

“Gene?” said Laura blankly.

“The cow gene.”

Laura blinked. “What are you talking about?” she said, her voice rising.

The two doctors exchanged glances at seeing Laura’s shocked expression.

The male physician spoke carefully. “The gene doesn’t run in your family?”

“Of course not!” Laura snapped. “You’ve obviously made a mistake.” She was getting annoyed.

“Miss, we’re going to need for you to relax,” said the female doctor.

“When can I get this stupid procedure over with,” said Laura. If anything, she was getting more tense. “What the hell’s going on?”

“As we said, things have gotten complicated,” said the female doctor solemnly. “If I’m not mistaken, it appears that the cow gene we found in your blood was contracted from your fetus—or more likely, fetuses.”

“Contracted?” said Laura.

“That tends to be the case in a lot of these situations. In the next few weeks, you will begin experiencing changes. In fact, they may have already begun.”

“W-what do you mean?” Laura was back to panic mode. She unconsciously hugged herself. “I'm pregnant with a c-c-”

“A human/cow splice. The gene must have been inherited from the father of the offspring.”

“Get it out!” said Laura in alarm.

The doctors again exchanged nervous glances.

“I’m afraid, Ms. Lawrence, that your request poses some problems,” said the male doctor. “Legally, there are no ground rules regarding abortion in these matters. In addition to that, we would likely be aborting not one, but several embryos—if we can call them that. Studies have shown that even in this early stage, the fetuses are known to exhibit strong movement. There are no laws on the books stating whether or not we can abort.”

“Meaning...”

“Our protocol is simply to not get involved. In recent months, there have been massive amounts of abortion requests to our facility and our partners. Our legal team has advised us to turn these patients away. There’s too great a risk of liability. You won't find a clinic on this coast that will go anywhere near you, I’m afraid.”

Laura was pale by then, her breathing thin. This was all too much for her to handle. Soon all she could see were bright whites and reds. And then she lunged at the male doctor. That was all she remembered before she awoke in a hospital.

-

She was in a psychiatric unit, though she didn't belong there. She supposed it was better than sitting in jail. Laura sat curled up in her bed, blankly staring out the window. It had only been a few days and the facility was working on her discharge.

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to attack the clinic doctors. Luckily, she had been forgiven for her temporary bout of insanity—it had been attributed to the shock of her diagnosis. The clinic wasn’t pressing charges, granted Laura went through the 72-hour psychiatric evaluation, and participated in weekly group therapy sessions over the course of several months.

When Laura walked out of the hospital, her mother was waiting outside for her. She wore a worried expression that indicated she had no clue what was going on.

Laura embraced her.

“Honey, what happened? Are you okay?” her mother asked.

“It’s fine, mom. Just a stupid mistake,” Laura responded, holding the embrace for several moments longer, before finally breaking away. Laura gave her mother a forced smile, before walking alongside her to the car. Laura would be spending the rest of the weekend with her parents.

It was still hard to believe that she was carrying some sort of cow-creature inside of her. And that its DNA was leeching into hers, infecting her with its abnormalities. The whole concept make Laura’s skin crawl. During the car ride home, Laura couldn’t help examining herself extensively in the passenger seat. She took in every inch of her body that she could see without the aid of a mirror. Everything seemed ordinary. For a fleeting instant, she hoped this was just some ridiculous mistake.

The thought of the cow girls she saw on the news nauseated her. The center of the epidemic was two cities over, so the phenomena was still relatively alien to Laura’s family and the college town she lived in.

During her third once-over of herself, Laura could not ignore how much more her breasts had swelled since she was initially told that she was pregnant. They were now up to B-cups even though they had been nonexistent only a few weeks earlier. Laura took to staring at them as they gently bobbed while the car weaved through the winding streets. Her mother glanced her way, but opted not to say anything.

Finally, the car pulled into the driveway of Laura’s childhood home.

“How about it?” said her mother. “Ready for a break from your crazy college friends?”

Laura tore her eyes away from her chest, forcing a smile. “Sounds great.”

2.

That evening, Laura paced in the privacy of her parents’ garage, her cell phone held to her ear.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answered on the other line.

“You piece of shit,” she hissed.

“What? Laura?” Brad seemed wide-awake now.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had the gene?”

“G-Gene?” Brad stammered.

“The cow gene. The condom didn’t work. I’m pregnant, you asshole!”

“P-p-p—” Brad sputtered.

“I'm going to sue you, you prick! I'm going to sue your whole family.”

“I g-gotta go.”

When Brad hung up on her, Laura felt so angry, her lungs constricted. She paced, breathing heavily, her hands balling into tight fists.

A beam of light hit the room as the interior door opened. “Laura, what are you doing down here? Is everything okay?”

Laura looked up at her father. “Fine,” snapped before storming past him. She hurried upstairs to her room, and spent the remainder of the weekend locked away there, trying vainly to rein in her bad temper.

Laura was just grateful on Sunday night when her parents were dropping her back off at the college.

"Bye guys," she said as she opened the car door.

"Laura, you know that you can talk to us," called her mother.

"About anything," her father added.

Laura closed the car door. With a sigh, she leaned on the open passenger side window where her mother was sitting. "Yeah, I know." She forced a smile.

"See ya kiddo." Her mother cupped her cheek.

Laura stepped back, allowed the car to pull away from the curb. She waved as it drove off. As it turned the corner, her smile fell. No matter how old she grew, her parents would always see her as an innocent little girl.

She lifted her duffle bag and headed into her dorm building, walking past college students trying to read as they walked. A few were giggling as they clutched full backpacks that gave off the occasional clinking sound. Laura had been similarly carefree only a few days earlier.

Grimacing, she went straight to her dorm, slamming the door shut behind her.

Looking around, Laura could see that neither of her roommates were around. Dumping her duffle bag on the ground, she pulled out her laptop and cellphone, and got searching. Within the hour, she had called several dozen clinics, but none were willing to offer her an appointment once she disclosed the particularities of her condition. It was finally, when Laura called a clinic several hours drive from her, that she found a doctor willing to go through with the procedure.

"I'm afraid Dr. Brass is all booked up. The wait is four months."

“Shit,” said Laura dejectedly. “Wait, how long do I have if I want to..."

The receptionist gave an awkward laugh once she understood the question. "Right. In this state, abortion is legal up until the 24th week," she said kindly.

Laura’s heart lifted. "Okay, then I'll take the appointment.”

After the call, Laura breathed a sigh of relief. She just had to hold out for a few months.

Until then, she decided that she would ignore her condition. It was temporary anyway. Nothing more than an inconvenience. Closing her laptop, Laura went to sleep.

Days flew by as Laura went back to balancing her studies and her social life, often giving favor to the latter. Every so often she would notice an itch here or a bump there, but she largely left these things ignored.

Temporary, she would remind herself.

She continued to meticulously groom herself in her mirror, making sure that each strand of dark hair on her head was perfectly arranged. She would then apply eyeliner, ignoring how gorgeously large and green her eyes looked lately. Her red lipstick would be next, and Laura would try not to linger on how amazingly plump her lips seemed. All things considered, this condition was doing her body well. But of course, Laura was not to acknowledge it.

Her leggings stretched more tightly than ever over her plump bottom, her butt crack close to bulging out over the waistband. It was not a big ass by any means, but it looked huge on Laura's otherwise small frame.

"Damn girl," said Rick, one of Laura's classmates. "You put on weight? That ass is out of control."

Though Laura glared at Rick, internally, she drew pleasure from the attention. Far too accustomed to having a bony physique, she was happy to welcome her fuller, softer ass. Her breasts had surged with growth as well, and were already beginning to bulge out of the B-cup bras she had bought. But that in itself wasn’t the impressive part. Her breasts were impeccable. Her breasts were full and plump with no hint of sagging. Better than the ones her friends had purchased through plastic surgery.

A veil of pleasure hung over Laura as her body grew more supple and sexual. Maybe this whole thing wasn't as bad as she'd thought it would be. Laura found herself to be in a continual state of contentment.

But something came over her one day when she was coming out of a Math Department building.  She noticed a familiar black pickup truck sitting by the curb and was abruptly flooded with memories of one night several weeks earlier. Laura pulled out her keys and ran them over the side of the truck, making sure to dig them into the shining new paint job.

"Laura?" said a stunned voice.

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Laura walked past Brad, ignoring him. Random students gathered around the stunned young man, pointing and whispering.

Rick simply whistled after her.

Over the next few days, Laura's hair grew longer, thicker, and more luscious. When she looked in the mirror, she could see that she was getting less angular and more soft. She was still fit, just...different. Her face was less narrow now. Her shoulders weren’t as sharp, her ribs no longer showing, and her abdomen was not concave anymore. On top of all this, her hips appeared much fuller. Laura had always had difficulty gaining weight so she found the whole thing to be fascinating.

One morning Laura was walking around her dorm in just a pair of panties and a bra. She'd never had reservations about nudity. She joined her roommate, Mindy, in the bathroom mirror. Mindy gave Laura a once-over.

"I always thought you could do to put on a little weight," Mindy grinned, bubbly as ever.

Laura froze mid-way through brushing her teeth. "Um...thanks." She grimaced and spat out some toothpaste.

Her panties really were digging into the fat of her backside. And her breast-flesh was admittedly overflowing the B-cup bra she had on.

And then there was the increasing softness of Laura's abdomen. Over the past week, she had found herself eating a minimum of five meals daily.

"Thanks," Laura repeated, still a little numb. She walked out of the bathroom, passing by her other roommate, who was standing by the front door. Veronica didn't even bother to look up, too busy typing away on her phone.

It was the weekend of Laura’s first group-therapy meeting. Laura was mandated to attend the meetings monthly, at minimum. Fully intending to look better than everyone else there, Laura went to her room to get dressed. She pulled on a skin tight white tube dress that was extremely short and low-cut, her cleavage bulging out in the front and the material barely pulling down over her thong-clad ass.

After putting on a pair of ankle boots, Laura headed out. It was only a fifteen-minute drive from campus. The ride brought Laura to a small, darkened library, that didn’t even look as though it was operating anymore. Though finding it somewhat creepy, Laura forced herself to go inside. The door was unlocked and there actually were a number of patrons walking up and down the shabby rows of books. There were also signs on the wall with the words THERAPY GROUP in bold letters, with arrows pointing towards a door off the main room. Taking a deep breath, Laura let herself inside.

The room was brightly-lit, and she must have been late, because a small group of a dozen or so people were already seated in a circle.

There was a woman with a large, strange mound bulging in the front of her shorts. And there was a chubby girl with cow-ears protruding out from her hair on either side of her head. Laura saw a young buff man with two small horns poking out of his hair. There was a woman with a second pair of C-cup breasts perched beneath her first pair. Laura finally noticed a girl who looked perfectly normal. The remaining people ranged vastly in their abnormalities, just as the others did. In the back, a woman was pacing while having a hushed conversation on her cell phone. The woman looked heavily pregnant, maybe at term. Laura couldn’t help staring. The woman had two pairs of D-cup breasts perched above her belly. Beneath her belly, against her pubic region, was a round mound, the size of a large grapefruit. Though the woman waddled slightly, she seemed surprisingly composed. She was wearing a long-sleeved navy sweater dress and black tights. It seemed like professional attire.

“You must be Laura.”

Laura’s eyes darted back to the circle. A normal-seeming woman in a blouse and dress pants was looking her way.

“I’m Ms. Clark. Why don’t you have a seat?” Ms. Clark motioned to the chair beside hers.

3.

Laura had never seen so many cow people in real life—in fact, she had never seen any, other than the ones on the news. Laura tried her best not to look as stunned as she felt. The woman with the large, fat-looking mound stuffed in her high-waist pants was speaking.

“It started at puberty,” the woman said. She had short brown hair and hunched shoulders. Laura squinted, and could see that the woman’s nametag read Sandy. “Slow going, you know… With most people, the change is fast. Takes weeks or months. But for me, it happened progressively, over the course of years. I don’t know if it was something I was doing, or eating. I mean, I always knew it was likely. After all, my mother was a...a cow person. And, well, I have lots of siblings. They’re all cows too. Somehow I always thought I would be exempt. But I guess I was just a late bloomer. Maybe that’s why I have so much difficulty adjusting compared to the others. My udder kept growing over the years, and I just kind of got used to hiding it. I wore clothes that compressed it, even until it was sore. After college, things just got harder. Soon I was in the workforce. I’d squeeze myself into these little pantsuits. I had all kinds of tricks. Bandages, shape-wear, you name it. By then my udder had started, like, tingling. Of course, I didn’t know what it meant at the time. It was bloated, just this big, obvious mound in my pants. I wasn’t fooling anyone, but I still kept at it with the measures, the tape, the bandages, the spanks, whatever might keep it down, make it look less—massive. It was torture, but I, um…I refused to stop trying to hide it. My family thought I was crazy. But this was before the condition became so widespread, before people actually knew about us. Mom was always so nervous. I was the only one of my siblings who wasn’t home-schooled. Of course, had she known how I would turn out, she probably wouldn’t have let me out of the house. But yeah, I was defiant. I went to college. I got a good job. I squeezed myself into my pencil skirt, lying to myself, telling myself that I wasn’t growing, every day. And then one day, during the biggest presentation of my career, my udder just started gushing milk for the first time. I hadn’t even realized it was engorged.” Sandy sighed. The woman sitting beside her comfortingly patted her on the arm.

Sandy swallowed hard, and went on. “It must have been nerves or something. I don’t know. Maybe I had gotten stimulated from being squeezed so continuously. It just kept swelling up. My skirt started to tear.

“Of course, I quit right there. I was humiliated. I ran out of the office and never looked back.” Sandy took a deep breath. “That was a year ago. Nowadays, I just work from home. I barely get out anymore. Even though it’s all over the news now, and the cow-gene is becoming this whole, big, public thing. But I just can't face the world with my udder. Not since that day. And it gets worse. I’m still going through…changes. I can see it more clearly now. I can see my body changing more every day.” Sandy began to get choked up. Now her neighbor was comfortingly rubbing her back. “I know I'm being silly. I grew up with this gene. I know what my mother is. I just got so used to being…human.”

“You are human,” insisted the chubby girl with floppy cow-ears.

“Zoey is right,” said Ms. Clark. “You are human. And you are brave. Thank you so for telling your story.”

The group gave a small round of applause. Laura sat in numb silence.

“Who else would like to share?” asked Ms. Clark.

Laura was silently disturbed by what she had heard. It was difficult to swallow. She found herself absently staring at the volleyball-sized mound perched in Sandy’s lap on her otherwise normal-looking physique.

“I will,” someone said.

Laura’s eyes darted towards a young woman whose nametag read Violet. Laura scrutinized her, but Violet was virtually normal. Laura couldn’t pinpoint any cow features at all.

Maybe she’s like me, Laura thought, feeling nervous. Suddenly she wasn’t too keen about hearing Violet’s story.

“I’m similar to Sandy, I guess, though my problem is kind of, the opposite,” said Violet, in a high, airy voice. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a cute, slim, physique. “Like Sandy, I grew up in big family of cow girls and boys. We grew up poor, but it was…nice. My parents had a couple of litters, and I was always envious of my siblings. They have clear features—not as clear as my mum, but, you know. Full hips, big boobs, fat bums—three of my sisters even have udders. One of the three actually grew an extra pair of breasts—lucky thing. But she doesn’t appreciate it. I would give anything to be like her. I’m the youngest, and kind of a black sheep. I see my sisters getting knocked up, and growing, almost ready to pop with litters of cow-babies, and I’m still just here, waiting around for my turn to start developing. Sometimes I worry that my time won’t come. I hate looking at all the gorgeous cows on the news. Even looking around this very room, all I feel is jealousy, and—”

Laura never made it to the end of Violent’s story. She was already halfway towards the door, paying no heed to the disapproving looks Ms. Clark was sending her. Laura opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.

As Laura walked out of the library, she tried to block out everything that she had witnessed during the very odd group therapy session. Cow therapy is more like it, she thought as she climbed into her car. She wasn’t like those women. Laura speed-dialed one of her friends on her car’s bluetooth. In the meantime, she awkwardly lifted up her leg to pull off her ankle boot, and began to replace it with a strappy heel.

“Laura?” a male voice answered the phone.

“Reese, what's going on tonight?”

“For real?” Reese responded. “You said you were busy.”

“Well my plans fell through,” Laura grumbled in irritation.

“We're meeting at this new bar that opened up downtown. It’s called Vibe. Afterwards heading to the club down the street.”

“Meet you there,” said Laura, hanging up the phone. She struggled into her other heel.

As Laura drove, she encountered a great number of red lights. It was the downside of a college town, she supposed. She tinkered with the car radio, but the FM dial had broken weeks earlier during a hook-up.

Laura absently admired the way her B-cups pushed out in her tiny dress, now so plump and round that they didn’t necessitate a bra. They couldn’t still be B’s, could they? Laura cupped one with her free hand, lifting it slightly. Her cleavage was bulging heavily over the tube neckline, the stretched material mere inches from exposing her nipples.

“Doctor, what kind of precautions should women take if they suspect they might be carrying a cow child?” spoke a somewhat distorted male voice on the radio.

“The main thing they should know is that women impregnated with this gene will remain highly fertile, and it is entirely possible for them to be re-impregnated,” responded a knowledgeable female voice.

“Come again?” said the host.

“That’s right, Tim, these gene-carrying women can add more embryos to their already-full litter in a process called superfetation. This is why it is crucial that they practice abstinence from the moment that they first suspect they are pregnant.”

“Astounding.”

“Besides that, there are significantly fewer dangers to the babies than there are with regular pregnancies. These cow-gene-carrying embryos tend to be highly resilient. We have seen absolutely no impact from mothers who have consumed drugs and alcohol during gestation. The embryos are even resilient to physical trauma. The one study that I should bring up warns of a substance that can cause growth spurts via fetal weight-gain in utero. This isn’t only bad for the birth, but it can exacerbate mobility issues that these women are already prone to in the later stages of pregnancy. The substance is simply—"

Laura turned off the radio, annoyed that she was being bombarded by news of the cow epidemic. “Everywhere I turn, cow this, cow that,” she mumbled under her breath. “Give me a break!” She absently accelerated. How did I get dragged into this shit anyway? She came from a good family. She had a trust fund for chrissakes! I’m not a fucking cow! Laura impatiently sped through the latest red light.

Ten minutes later, she arrived at the bar where she would meet her friends. She parked on the curb and got out of the car, pausing just to admire the sunset. Taking a deep breath, she tried to dispel cow-related-thoughts from her mind. She definitely needed a break from all that.

Laura entered the bar and found her friends, who were at a table in the back. The five were already tipsy. They challenged her to catch up.

Laura just grinned and squeezed her plump bottom into the booth.

Within a few hours, she drank Reese under a table, crediting her high alcohol tolerance for her decent composure. She and Stacy kissed a little. Just as things started picking up, Terry announced that they were heading for the club.

It was a ten-minute walk with her heels in her hand. Though dark, it was still warm out, the group doing their best to look sober as police cruisers roamed the streets, looking for college students to pick up.

The group just chattered and giggled amongst themselves, Laura feeling more at ease than she had in a while. Occasionally she remembered to tug her dress down, usually when Reese whistled behind her, or commented to a snickering Derek about how much her ass was “blowing up.” Laura found it entirely complimentary. She just giggled, and twirled, and led the group to the club. They got on line, each whipping out their fake-IDs. They all ranged from eighteen to nineteen-years-old.

Laura was picked out of the line and granted entrance before her friends. Linking arms with the security guard, she playfully waved goodbye to the group as they threw rude hand gestures. Laura was escorted right through the door.

It was hip hop night, the music deafening as Laura danced within the massive crowd. She caught glimpses of her friends as they were individually allowed entrance. For a while she danced with Stacy, and then she allowed Derek to grind on her. Glasses were passed, and Laura drank up. She drank until everything would periodically blur.

Now a different person was grinding on her, men seeming to gravitate to her plump bottom. Laura allowed the stranger to run his hands up and down her body, along her round ass, and the full breasts stretching out her tiny dress. She was loving her new body. She never got this kind of attention at clubs.

Soon she and the stranger were in a dark corner, kissing and rubbing against each other’s bodies. He was tall and lean, his skin delightfully hot. She could feel his gender, and it was big. He pressed her into the wall. She wrapped her legs around him as she let him kiss her breasts. She groaned as he hooked his fingers into the straps of her thong.

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