Hucow #43

By Fanatisk

Submitted: April 10, 2018

Updated: April 10, 2018

A short snippet I wrote after being inspired by an audio clip! It's nothing special, just a little something! :x

Kinks include: Mindbreak, Lactation, Hucow, Drugs

Provided by Hentai Foundry.

http://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/Fanatisk/28825/Hucow-43

Chapter 1 - Hucow #43 2

 1 - Hucow #43

Hucow #43 was antsy in her stall, knees shuffling from side to side. There was little other movement she
was capable of- upper body suspended in a stockade, neck and wrists stuck into carefully padded locks.
She did not chafe, but had little room to move about, to relieve the tension she felt building within her
body. With a key from her Masters, the height could be modified- pulled up so she’d have to stand up,
or brought low her current kneeling position.

That was how they’d left her the last few days, hunched over with legs tucked beneath her body, and it
was just the worst…! She’d not been milked, had not been touched, had not been bred…! Her heavy
breasts were laden with the precious milk, drooping down to spill over her knees and lay flat against the
floor beneath. Her nipples were hard, poking against the ground, and she found a vague pleasure in
shaking her fat tits from side to side, teats tickling with the sensation. It just wasn’t the same when she
was doing it to herself though, and she soon stopped, whimpering with need.

She tried to think of why they’d left her like this, but it was so hard to focus her thoughts- each time her
brain tried to concentrate on a line of reasoning it slipped away in a blurry mist, a pleasurable fog that
denied her from thinking too hard. Each time the hucow furrowed her brow to recall, to remember- she
instead drifted off on rosy clouds, the weight of her large breasts taking up what little capacity for
thinking her brain still retained.

Goodness, they were so big…! She giggled, and the giggle turned into a longing, outdrawn moan as she
realized just how huge they were- oh, she was such a good hucow, the best hucow! They’d never been
so big before, so obscenely bulging, bloated and swelling with the white gold…! Why didn’t they come
here, to see how good she was? How good- how bad!- she felt for sporting such massive jugs? Guilt
filled her for just a fraction of a moment, for not being of use, for not sharing her bounty with her
Masters- and then the guilt evaporated as soon as it had come, replaced with the ever present
reassurance that she was a good girl, doing a good thing, and she deserved to feel good because she
felt so good and feeling good made her feel good, so she-

Nnghh, thinking was so hard! And her breasts were so big, so very, very big! Her plump rear jiggled as
she squirmed in her bonds, naked form bathed in the pleasant warmth in the sun from the windows high
above.

There was only the vaguest recollection of a life prior to this, one tinged with responsibilities and burdens
and… things. Had she had a family? A job? She thought so, maybe- but there was no regret, not for her
past or her present. Hucow #43 couldn’t remember the how, or why, or-

A door opened somewhere behind her, the entrance to her private stall well out of her view.

And just like that, her train of thought changed track once more. Her sluggish mind tried to figure out
who it was, who had come- already she could feel the heat building between her legs, a budding ember
that could flare up into a flame of need at a moments notice.
“Ahh… nnhh…!” Her anticipation took the form of wordless moans, having long lost the capacity for
coherent sentences. She felt a pleasurable shiver through her spine, a satisfactory knowledge that she
wasn’t forgotten, had not been overlooked. Was it her Masters who had come to breed her? To hook
her up to the machines? Oh, oh gods…! Her tits were so -big-! Toes curled and uncurled while #43 licked
her lips, craning her neck towards the apparatus on the far wall. Suction cups, gags, anal plugs- tools in
shining slick chrome hung there for her to daydream about, to try and figure out what they would use on
her next. She reached the closest state of impatience a hucow could manage- a desire to be of use so
fervent she trashed in the stockade, grunting and groaning, trying to convey her desire to be fucked and
milked.

A hand slapped her hard across the ass, instantly soothing her, the firm touch of a Master to reassure
the hucow that she was noticed, her need taken into account. Yet something nagged at her, the
realization not setting in until well after her gelatinous cheeks had stopped jiggling from the impact.

This was no Master, no latex glove of clinical cleanness had connected with her bare skin- it had been
flesh against flesh, and that meant a Guest, a visitor to the milk factory…!

Despite the cotton candy consistence of her addled mind, hucow remembered- why hadn’t she before?-
that this was how the Masters always prepared hucows for visitors, denying them all interaction for days
before so they’d be suitably pathetic in their desperate cravings for the Guests maximized pleasure.

A distant mantra echoed in the back of her mind, the words repeated to her with her own voice. ‘The
hornier I become, the dumber I get…!’ There was no doubt, just undisputable truth to illuminate her
world- ‘The dumber I become, the hornier I get…!’ She felt it- the hucow quivering with lust, mind
addled. Hornier, dumber, hornier, dumber…!

She was almost sobbing, bleary eyes blinking away tears. The presence in the room behind her was
sweet torture, imminent pleasure that had yet to come- she was humping the air, swinging her rear
about, droplets from her sloppy cunt spreading like morning dew.

The hucow felt the stockade shift, lifting her upwards- forced into a standing position, breasts lifted just
above the ground so that the heavy, turgid teats brushed against the hay. The hucow can’t see the
man- she’s sure it’s a man, the hand having been rough and calloused- yet, but she’s shivering, heart
beating fast in her chest.

She’s also leaking. The shame is utterly- udderly- devastating. Milk for the Masters, for the Guest, gone
to waste- she wants to scream and yell at him to milk her, to taste it, to not let it soak into the floor…! But
all that escapes her big, plump lips is a deep and heartfelt:

“Mmmhhhhoooouuuuuu….!”

There’s a sound of a belt unbuckling, the light rustle of clothes shed- it takes time, and the hucow
glimpses a man in business attire out of the corner of her eye. She shudders, happy and grateful that
someone so important has found her lowly, blissful existence of use.

“Mmmhhooouu… ooouuu….!”
Another long, mournful cry of a hucow in distress- but the tone changes the moment his strong hands
are placed on her hips, his palms running over her bare, smooth flesh. Goosebumps spread across her
skin like wildfire, eyelashes fluttering as the hucow groans in desperate arousal. He’s taking his time-
the hucow can feel his naked cock against her thick thigh, semi-flaccid length rubbing against her, all
while his hands continue to roam up the length of her body, along her spine, brushing against her
shoulders- and then, to the hucow’s immeasurable pleasure, they move down her sides.

She wants him to feel how generously well endowed her bust is, how the drugs they’ve given her have
morphed her body into one solely dedicated to subservience. They’re too big to be grasped, too huge to
handle for any plain woman- only fit for hucows, breasts so bulging with milk they are incompatible with
normal life.

But she doesn’t want a normal life. She wants the hucows bliss, free of independent thought and
responsibility. There’s no doubt in her mind that it’s what she wants, even as his experienced hands
run down the length of her tits, hanging like overripe fruit- and when his fingers brush against her teats,
hard as glass, she nearly cums on the spot. Thick, creamy squirts of milk strike the hay just by that
faintest touch, the hucow filled to the bursting point. Her udders ache with tender need, hyper sensitive
to his touch- bending over her, the taller man rests his hips against her ass, a clean-shaven chin placed
against the nape of her neck.

He seizes a firm but not unkind hold of her mammoth sized breasts, struggling to catch them all in the
palms of his hands, flesh bulging obscenely between his fingers as the sheer weight of them strains his
muscles. The Guest begins… to milk her. Carefully, tenderly at first- coaxing the milk out of her nipples
with loving strokes, his breathing heavy as he realizes just what a prized hucow she is, what a generous
slut she has become.

But he utters no words, does not speak to her. The milking increases in intensity- harder strokes, his
fingers digging into her areolas, pink nipples producing a never-ending stream of creamy milk. In a dimly
lit past, she distantly remembers how other Guests have called her words, have told her what a filthy girl
she is, how much they enjoy fucking her- but #43 likes it best when the Masters and Guests are silent,
when they treat her like an object. There’s no point in talking down to a hucow, you might as well
verbally abuse a dildo or a fleshlight- they’re things for you to use, not interact with.

The hucow is moaning, groaning, almost gurgling- saliva drips out of the corners of her mouth as she
feels the tension in her tits release, hard tugs at her teats producing a prodigious amount of milk. His
cock is fully erect, teasing her slit, brushing against her swollen labia- tender kisses given to her swollen
clit. She’s bathing him in her honey, dousing his cock in her cunt’s nectar.

He groans as he stands on the tips of his toes, let his cock slide up between her plump ass cheeks, lets
his heavy sack smack against her cunt, a spank that leaves the hucow chipping for air. She’s grinding
against him, trying to catch his cock with her cunt, aching to let him sheathe his length inside of the cunt
that’s burning up- but he dances away, not yet ready for her quivering pussy. His hands aim her tits,
directing the spray elsewhere- the hucow can feel the warm milk as it hits her own feet, her own ankles-
he’s forcing them up against her own body… until he can bathe his cock in it.

She can’t see, can’t tell exactly what’s happening- but his pleasured growls close to her ear along with
the sound of milk hitting flesh lets her scrambled brain make a guess. Slowly, surely, he lets the fat tits
resume a normal hanging position, so close to the ground that they nearly touch it- and for a moment,
the hucow thinks she can see the glint of something on his hand, a flash of memory passing before her
mind’s eye.

It happens too quickly, and it’s gone in the next moment- a wedding ring, she’s dimly aware. One
she’s seen before? And another ring that she doesn’t recognizes-

“Mmhhoouu-oohh~!”

The hucows brain melts when his cock rubs against the entrance of her cunt, nestling it between her
folds. He makes it a slow thing, entering her with the patience of a saint, inching inside of her greedy
pussy with expert self-control the hucow lacks. He fills her up- so, so nicely. The hucow nearly weeps
with the perfection, feeling the slickness of her own soppy snatch mixing with the milk-slathered meat of
his cock.

He’s not hurrying, not stressing- slowly, deliberately, entering her cunt with his depth and girth, cunt
gripping him tight. The hucow is driven almost out of her mind, wanting him to do it hard, do it fast- to
work her slutty pussy like the machines do… and when he does not, she loves him all the more for it,
pitiful yelps escaping her lips.

When he’s fully inside, when he’s filled her in a way only a woman can know, he halts. He slaps her tits
and spread her thighs further apart with his knees- hucow barely able to support her shaking legs- and
then begins to pull out, just as slowly as he’d entered her.

It’s too much for the hucow. With a shuddering sob, she cums- cunt squeezing his cock, spasming
around his length, mind and body so thoroughly rocked by the orgasm that she slumps to the floor, only
kept aloft by virtue of the stockade and the mans strength.

The hucow’s eyes roll in their sockets as he pulls out save for the tip, and just as she hoped- as she
feared- he proceeds to enter her again, slow-fucking the hucow at the pace he sets, not at the speed the
hucow with her limited mental capacity and attention span wants.

She cums a second time all the same when he bottoms out in her, bathing both her- and him- in the flow
of her juices. The floor beneath them is a sticky mess, a puddle of her white milk and honey. He’s
thrusting in and out of her in a way no one has before, the hucow incapable handling the restraint he
shows.

When he finally cums, the hucow is breathing raggedly, nearly sobbing with extreme esctacy. She can
feel the hot release fill her up, hucow pleased that she could milk him the way he’s milked her- but
she’s unable to stand, knees so weak that they cannot support her any further. The hucow is hanging
against the stockade, nearly choking in her new position- but before he leaves, having dressed and
cleaned himself, he lowers the stockade so she can resume her submissive, kneeling position. The ring
recognized- and the new one to replace it- are all but forgotten, the significance lost on the hucow’s
fuck-fried brain.

Come the morning, the Masters will be back, attaching her to the machines- and this encounter will have
 been forgotten, the hucow’s mind devolving a fraction every day, until all thoughts of past- and future-
will be dominated by the present, the once-human now-hucow incapable of recognizing the world
beyond the nearest minute.

And already, she wouldn’t want it any other way

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