The Milking Herd

byStoryTeller07©

(Just a quick one to get it out of the way, clearing my mind for a new
series, sorry it is so short.)

A woman joins the herd

Cheryl just had to get away from it all. A business deal had gone wrong,
ruining her business. Intending to lie low, until the fuss died down, she
booked a cottage that was cheap and available. No longer having a
company car, she took a train then a bus into a village, where she was
picked up by a young farmer.

They drove into the hills, in a battered old Land Rover. She figured the
further away from it all, the better. There was no mobile phone signal,
even if she had retained a company phone. She did have a collection of
books with her, for company and interest.

On his way back to the farm house, for breakfast, Rob dropped off the
basic provisions. It was after a morning's work, well before she got up out
of bed. There were walks though the hills, over rough tracks when it was
dry. She hadn't brought wet weather gear, which was a mistake.

"Hi Rob. Can you do me a favour? I need to see a doctor, can you give
me a lift into the village?" she asked. She had thought of batting her
eyelids at him, only he was too young to be interested in a thirty-three
year old woman. She looked as though she had worn herself out, and she
had. The business had demanded so much of her time.

"The clinic is open Tuesday and Thursday. If it's an emergency I can drive
you to the hospital, in town," he helpfully suggested.
"I don't think so, I'll wait till Tuesday," Cheryl said. She gritted her teeth
hoping it wouldn't get any worse over the weekend.

"Are you sore?" he asked. "The wet patches on your t-shirt," he pointed
out. "It's the country air, and the presence of the cows. Being milked I
mean. It's nothing to worry about, it often happens," he reassured her.

She was highly embarrassed, though he seemed to know what he was

talking about.

"Let me know if it gets any worse and I'll sort it out for you. The doctors
are no good they just give you pills," he said. Rob left some country made
jam, with the milk and fresh bread.

By mid-afternoon the pain was too much. She was curious to find out
what local herbal cure he might know of. He milked the cows twice a day,
so must be an expert on udders. She laughed at the comparison. Cheryl
looked in a mirror at her breasts, imagining them as big milky udders.
They were certainly swollen, and were leaking milk. It was the sort of
thing she could have asked her mother about, if her parents had still been
alive.

Instead, she was prepared to put her breasts in the hands of a young
man. She giggled at the thought of it. They had certainly become large
and impressive over the past few days. If only they didn't hurt. Otherwise
it would have been fun flaunting the big things, until they returned to
normal.

During the afternoon the pain got worse. Being desperate she seriously
considered asking him if he had some ointment, or an herbal remedy that
might help. Her breasts were still swollen up, so much so, she couldn't
wear a bra. The baggy t-shirt she wore as a night-gown was the only
thing big enough cover them.

"Damn it!" she swore. The pain killers were no good. She would have to
go and see that young farmer. Hearing the cows making a contented
noise in the barn meant it was milking time. He would be down there
doing whatever farmers do.

The sight of the cows being milked, with their large teats being pulled
upon, was slightly arousing. He led her into a side room. It was spotlessly
clean, like a consultation room.

"They need to be milked, or they'll get very sore," he said.

When she realised he was talking about her she was shocked.

"I thought you would have some ointment or something. I didn't come
here to be err," she began to say milked, but her voice trailed off. She
became conscious of the contented cows being milked and wondered.
Was he just pulling her leg, or did he really mean to pull on her aching
teats?

She fidgeted from the awkward heaviness of her breasts. The baggy t-
shirt was the last one that would fit over her enlarged bust. He might be
right, but how would she go about it?

"These here will fit you," he said, handing her a pair of large rubber
suction cups.

Still in shock and a little woozy from the pain killers, she let him guide
her. Before she knew what was happening, she was on hands and knees.
"Hold on, err, I'm not sure about this. Are you sure this is necessary? I
mean, I'm not a farm animal," Cheryl feebly complained.

"Trust me, you will be pain free in a moment or two," he reassured her.

He carefully pulled the t-shirt away from her throbbing breasts. She
watched him expertly pinch a nipple, pull it, and squirt a stream of milk
from it. The way he gently handled her was fascinating.

He fitted the rubber cup to a breast, then the other one. Cheryl was
afraid. What had she let herself in for? This was stupid, she couldn't let
this young man do this to her. She should seek professional advice.

"Perhaps I should go to a doctor, I mean, this a bit drastic isn't it?" she
complained.

"Trust me, I do know what I'm doing," he told her.

He switched on the machine. A soft suction moved the cups, squeezing

her breasts. Stronger inner suction cups seemed to be pulling deliciously
on her nipples.

"Oooowww! That feels so lovely!" she whimpered.

With eyes half closed, she watched the milk from her breasts being
sucked up a pipe into the machine. She closed her eyes, feeling her
breasts being gently sucked and her nipples drawn upon. He was right,
the pain was subsiding. It felt so very deliciously. Her breasts had become
super sensitive, no longer hurting, just delightfully throbbing.

He came back to her after releasing the cows back to a field. He released
her from the machine.
"You see I was right. It feels much better now, doesn't it?" he asked,
while pulling the t-shirt back over her breasts.

"Well, yes, it does. Thank you, it's much better," she blushed. "It's a bit
weird, letting you do that to me," she nervously laughed.

"No problem, I just treated them like udders. I see them every day," he
laughed back.

Next morning they were again hurting, as he said they might. She
thought of going down there, to his milking shed, but it felt wrong. The
pleasure of it made it a naughty thing to do. It wasn't right to let a
machine do such lovely things to her. The machine had almost made her
cum! She hadn't told him that!

She didn't want to go into town like this even to see a doctor. In any
case, there wouldn't be a clinic until Monday.

Eventually she gave in. He again put a soft piece of carpet on the floor,
for her to kneel upon. He weighed her breasts in his strong, workmen's
hands. She felt the calluses rubbing her soft flesh, enjoying the rough
touching. He squeezed a nipple to spurt her milk into a stainless steel
bowl. When he fixed the suction cups into place she shivered, not from
cold, but from anticipation. When he switched on the machine she had be
careful not to yelp with pleasure.

It soon became a habit visiting the milking shed twice a day. He left her
alone while being milked, and she had an orgasm, just from being
stimulated so deeply. Her breasts no longer ached but were still huge. He
reassured her they would reduce back to their normal size in a little while.
She was no longer embarrassed when he examined them. Letting him
weigh them and squeeze them, became perfectly normal.

He kept adding a powder, to the milk he delivered to Cheryl each

morning. It had been an accident finding out the yield improvement
mixture, for his herd, also worked on a woman. This one was just right for
the next phase. She was away in dreamland, with her breasts being
milked, when he fitted a feeder into her mouth. Her eyes flickered open
otherwise there was little reaction, and no complaint.

When her milking was complete he disconnected her from the machine.
She was very docile and easily led. "Come along with me, lovely milker,"
he told her. Taking her back to the cottage he laid her on the bed to
recover.

Next time she came down to be milked she wore a dreamy look upon her
face. He tried a little more calming agent in her feed. He pulled her jeans
down and pushed the crotch of her panties away. Her pussy was already
wet and open, from the excitement of being milked. He pushed in a large
rubber nozzle, and switched that on too.

She was now being milked, fed, and fucked by the machine. It throbbed
in her pussy, vibrating in time with the suction on her breasts. The feed
was designed to calm her, yet not take the edge off her orgasm. When it
hit, the orgasm was the deepest and best all week.

This time the young farmer led her away to a stall. In the next stall was
another woman, contentedly waiting her next milking session. She was on
hands and knees, used to being treated like one of his milking herd.
Cheryl was only a couple of weeks behind her. Soon both women would
be ready to be sold on, to a more specialist farm, where they only kept
human milkers.
Kept docile, she would continue to produce human milk for the market for
some years to come. She would need some exercise, though most of the
time she would be kept in a stall, for regular milking throughout the day.

Cheryl wondered for a moment or two what had happened, why she was
here in a stall. A dim memory of having a past life fluttered through her
mind. She wondered where all her milk was going, hoping it was helping
someone.

***

"Come on Steve, these two are worth more than that," Rob said. Steve
liked to haggle, which was annoying. They both knew the value of two
women cows. Their production figures were high, as Steve knew, for he
bought the entire output.

"They are healthy and well trained. You can see they are contented. They
won't give you any trouble. It costs you more to get them from auction,
and you have to break them in. You have a niche market too," Rob
reminded him.

Eventually they agreed a price after examining the two women yet again.

"You do a good job. How do you get hold of them?" Steve asked.

"I advertise the cottage in quality magazines. Only the ones who really
want to get away from it all are accepted. A little research establishes
there won't be close relatives looking for them," he said.

He didn't mention the tidying up process, to make sure there was a

plausible reason for their disappearance. There was also the benefit of
clearing a bank account and selling off all worldly goods. Eventually a
mistake would be made, so he planned for that too.

Rob watched the modified cattle trailer pull away, to slowly wend its way
down the farm track. The cottage was cleared ready for the next visitor.

***

A few days had passed in a dreamy state of half wakefulness, half sleep.

She knew her owner got a good price for her milk, as she had overheard
a conversation. It was good quality, and she could produce it several
times a day. She heard him say she would be giving milk for years to
come.

She closed her eyes, dreamily contemplating the last wonderful orgasm.
She contentedly chewed upon some chocolate, not caring about anything,
knowing she would have another fantastic orgasm soon. She leaned
forward and bit off another piece of chocolate.

"Hmmm," she contentedly sighed.

She moved her hips around, feeling the large dildo in her pussy, and the
smaller one in her bottom. She moved her shoulders around, feeling the
cups attached to her breasts. She sensed she was due to be milked. The
anticipation of the wonderful feelings was arousing. She moaned loudly
and kicked at the door behind her. The chocolate feeder wasn't enough.
She needed a good strong fucking!

The hum of the machine started softly. She stopped moving, perking up
here ears. The noise grew in intensity and she mooed in response. She
heard the others, making a similar noise. They would all soon be in the
throws of a wonderful milking session.

The excitement grew, as they all knew what was about to happen to
them. She leant forward to greedily pull the feeding nozzle into her mouth
and sucked on it. The cups holding her huge breasts began to throb. The
inner cups pulled strongly on the nipples. Cheryl felt the vibrators start up
eliciting an excited animal like grunt.

The wonderful machine took her over. It had her whole body under its
control. It would make her have a tremendous orgasm, and it would last
for ages. It could keep her going, until it almost hurt. The feeling of
contentment would last until the next time, and so it would begin, all over
again.

Betty felt a great loss when her father died, and regretted not asking why
he left her mother. A few months later Lauren, her step mother died,
leaving her feeling devastated and alone. Now Lauren was gone she
needn't feel guilty over searching for her mother. Trawling through a pile
of photos and documents revealed where she lived, which further
stimulated a growing curiosity.

She found her mother had died in their home town five years earlier. It
shook her to discover she had an older sister. Her mother's recurrent
illness was the reason she, as the younger sister, had left with her father.
At thirty-three her sister was seven years older.

A visit to her mother's grave wasn't enough, she needed to find her only
living relative. A city directory showed Cheryl had a business, only it
recently went bankrupt. The house was sold, effectively killing the trail.
She was only a few weeks behind her, but there were no clues as to
where she had gone. A private detective reported there was no telephone
number, address, credit card numbers, or anything else.

She visited the company Cheryl once owned, not expecting much, which
is what she got. The human resources department didn't know anything
about the previous owner, and the pretentious woman wouldn't give out
information anyway.

Sitting in a rental car in the parking lot, she went through the few old
photos, wondering what her sister looked like now. They both had hazel
eyes and long dark hair. Betty tried hard to fathom what kind of person
her sister had become.

A knock on the side window startled her.

"Hello?" Betty queried.

"Hi. Is it really your sister you're looking for?" a middle aged woman
asked.

"Sure, yea. Do you know something?" Betty asked, expecting the woman
to be just curious.

"I was her secretary, until that lot took over," the woman grimaced.

"Do you want to get in?" Betty offered.

"It's my lunch break, I can spare just a moment," she said, flickering her
features into a brief smile.

"I'm trying to find out where she's gone. I didn't even know I had a sister,
until going through my late father's things," Betty quietly spoke, trying to
get her on side. Just in case the woman had something, which she
doubted.

They chatted about Cheryl; what she was like to work for, though mostly
how awful the new organisation was. It was a slender life line connecting
her to a long lost sister.

"I have this. It was in her desk. She cleared almost everything. I was
supposed to throw what was left. Don't know why I kept it," the woman
shrugged. She pulled the small leather bound note book from her bag and
handed it to Betty.

"Just meetings and work stuff, not much of interest," she opined. The
woman looked embarrassed, realising she revealed looking into it.

"Thanks! That's great, it's all I've got," Betty enthused.

***

Betty packed, checking the hotel room thoroughly. Having left a shoe in a
motel, sometime ago, was annoying enough to look under the bed, and in
the back of draws. She was ready for a couple of weeks at a retreat; a
remote cottage in the country. She felt it was needed, and it would have
been for Cheryl too, after losing her business.

Booking the cottage for a few weeks was the last entry in Cheryl's note
book. That she had disappeared after that could be explained in many
ways, for she may have left there for anywhere in the world. Beryl had
intended to just ask the renter about her sister, but something stopped
her. While talking to the guy on the phone, she found herself booking a
couple of weeks.

There was something about him. He didn't seem creepy. It was the
confidence, and professionalism, unexpected of a farmer just renting a
cottage. His easy chat got in the way of what she wanted to say, until she
found herself telling him of her recent loss. He told her the cottage would
be a perfect get-away from it all. Before she realised, it became a reason
for booking the cottage.

***

Betty settled into the cottage, admiring the old fashioned decor with
modern facilities. She walked across the yard to the farm house, carefully
avoiding the muddy puddles. Although she wore sensible hiking boots,
there was no need to get them dirty.

"Hi! I found these in the back of a draw. Must have been left by the
previous guest," she lied. The earrings had been a cheap pair she never
liked.

"I guess so," Rob looked at the pair of earrings, wondering how he had
missed them. He always thoroughly cleared away evidence of a previous
guest, just in case someone turned up. The police might gather DNA
evidence from these, so it was important to sanitise them. Most of a
guests belongings were thrown into the incinerator, with a few valuables
cleaned and sold on the internet.

She manoeuvred her way into the farmhouse, while he was distracted, to
furtively look around.

"Take a look if you like," he encouraged. "It's like the cottage, all original,
with your money modernising the place," he laughed. "That's the way I
keep the farm going, by renting out to people wanting to get away from it
all. Those boots look new, so I'd advise you to take it easy if you intend
walking the hills," he commented.
"Yea, sure, thanks," Betty smiled.

"There's provisions in the kitchen, and I'll drop off milk and stuff each
morning. Can you cook?" he asked.

"It's OK, I'm self sufficient. I've had to be over the last year, without
parents," she smiled, though looking sad from the thought.

"Well, let me know what you need and I'll fetch what I can from the
village store," he offered, while ushering her out.

A thorough search of the cottage revealed nothing to indicate her sister

had even been there. She was still unsure of Rob, feeling unable to ask
him. If nothing turned up the subject would have to be brought up.
Perhaps she could tell him her sister had recommended the place, after a
relaxing couple of weeks.

From a small window she watched him walk down to the milking shed. A
quick dash across the yard established the door was unlocked. Either he
was over confident, or there was nothing to hide. She hoped it was the
former. In a room turned into an office, a desk held the usual mound of
paperwork, and a computer.

She rifled through the papers, which were mostly bills for farm supplies,
nothing to do with renting a cottage. One was curious. One was from a
pharmaceutical company. She noted the details and quickly left.

Laying on the bed with an ipad, she searched for the products noted. As
she suspected, they were all used on the farm. One was an experimental
drug used to enhance the milking yield.
The last one was a beta blocker. It warned not to consume vinegar and
baking soda, as these combined to counteracted its effects. What was this
guy using a drug like this for?

The shower scene from an old film came to mind. With a shiver she
checked the bathroom lock was substantial. The shower curtain and bath
tub was very clean, as everything else was. For a guy, and a farmer at
that, it seemed unexpected. Again she had the feeling he was up to
something.

She dare not dwell on what had happened to her sister here, or she might
just run away. If something had happened to her, she needed evidence.
Better still, would be to find her.

"What am I thinking! She's probably on a beach somewhere, enjoying

herself, while I'm here working myself up over nothing," she ranted.

Lying back on the bed she tried to relax, attempting to clear her mind of
the idiotic thoughts. Rolling onto her side, drawing up her knees, she
cuddled herself for comfort. Staring into space, focusing on nothing,
something white attracted her attention.

Under the old fashioned dressing table hung a piece of paper. Tugging on
the lower draw took all her effort, with one side becoming stuck then the
other, until it was pulled free. It was a piece of paper, and it fell to the
floor. It was a bill for a storage container, made out to Cheryl.

She had been here! At least that was confirmed. It didn't mean she had
come to any harm. It must have been pushed up and out the back of the
draw by Cheryl's clothes. It meant she could contact the rental agency to
see if she had been in contact since leaving here. They might even have
Cheryl's address!
Betty made a cheese sandwich and forced it down. The milk was good.
Fresh from the farm dairy meant it was creamy, like the old days, rather
than the skimmed milk she had become used to. She carefully laid out
photos on the old kitchen table. Some with her mother and sister, others
with her father and sister.

Having paid for two weeks she was going to make full use of the time.
However hard she tried, she couldn't relax. None of the books on the ipad
held her attention. A relentless nagging doubt sent her back to the farm
house.

Unable to enter the computer she looked through draws. A book listed
sales of cattle. The last entry stopped her pushing it back in the draw. The
name Cheryl stood out among the entries.

Catching her breath to remain calm, she studied earlier entries. All were
female names. Cows might of course be named Daisy and Buttercup, as
in children's stories. A number, a name, a figure for the sale, and
something else was written in the last column.

At the beginning of the book the columns had titles. The last column was
the daily milk yield. The names must be a coincidence. Turning the page
back to where Cheryl was mentioned, she noticed the date. Two weeks
ago coincided with when her sister was due to leave.

"Don't be stupid! It's just one of those coincidences that turn up all the
time," she told herself.

The next page wasn't blank, she had turned two before. Betty! Her name
was next! No date, or anything else, just her name. That was too much of
a coincidence. Slamming the book shut, she shoved it back into the draw
and marched back to the cottage.

"What can I do? It's ridiculous," she murmured.

Who would believe wild accusations of kidnapping and, what? There must
be a rational explanation. Perhaps he just used their names from a lack of
an imagination. Perhaps naming the cattle for sale gave them an added
value, as though they were better looked after.

Just in case something was going on, she decided to confront him. Just
asking if her sister had stayed there would be enough. It would show in
his face if something horrible was going on. While searching for Cheryl, a
private detective told her thousands of people disappear each year.

Most just wanted to get away from it all. They fled from family, work,
business problems, and a myriad of other pressures. They either turned
up, or went on to lead a new life. He went on to warn her that even if he
found her, she might not want to be contacted.

Maybe he had found her and this was all part of an over active
imagination. It occurred to her that if Cheryl was alright, it wouldn't
matter what she did here. If Cheryl was in trouble, then she should find
out what happened. Finding her sister had become a puzzle, and she
loved solving puzzles.

After three days of searching the farm house while he was out, and in
between times the internet, nothing more surfaced. A puzzle without
clues was hopeless. A confrontation was due.

Betty was torn between leaving to continue the search, and simply
relaxing. Feeling tired and worn out she decided to stay. She took a large
bite out of a hunk of homemade bread, spread with a generous portion of
jam. At first the strawberry jam had a slightly bitter after taste. Becoming
used to it, she regularly finished off a meal with the sweet treat.

"How you doing? Got everything you need?" Rob asked.

"OK. I haven't gone far, need to break in these boots gradually," she
smiled.

"I meant to ask you something," she began, then faltered, feeling
nervous. His clear blue eyes held her in a grip that was difficult to shake
off. At that moment she didn't want him to be a villain, and her fears
seemed stupid.

"Is it about this?" he asked, pointing to her breasts.

"What?" she murmured with a startled expression.

"It happens sometimes. The country air, and being near a milking herd,
brings on a temporary condition. Don't worry about it. I'll fetch something
to ease the condition," he stated.

Looking down at her breasts she saw what he meant. There were wet
patches on the t-shirt. Before she could bring herself to say anything, he
was walking back to the farmhouse.

Betty lifted the t-shirt to study her chest. They had always been a
reasonable size, yet now she realised they had swollen. Leaving off a bra
hadn't been unusual, and she had been too preoccupied to notice the
slight change. What was worrying was that her breasts were leaking.

She cupped them with both hands, feeling the extra weight. They were
plumper, and more rounded, yet still firm. The positive voice he used was
reassuring, and not at all rude. A knock at the door startled her.

"Here, take this. A large spoon full this evening, and another tomorrow
morning, before food," he told her. "I'll drop by to make sure you're OK,"
he said, with a comforting smile.

She closed the door and leaned back on it, feeling confused. He was
charming, and so self-assured it overwhelmed her. She felt everything
was alright when he spoke to her, and that she was being silly to doubt
him.

She took the medicine after a great deal of hesitation. It tasted like cough
remedy. She washed her mouth out with a glass of milk. The strain of
overworking for the past year, coupled with her parents deaths, had
brought her to this state of hysteria. She determined to relax.

For the first time in months she had a full night of undisturbed sleep. No
dreams of her parents disturbed her. All those silly ideas about her sister
disappearing were easily pushed aside. The guy wasn't creepy, he was
rather dishy.

In the shower she examined her breasts. They were larger, and they still
seeped. She took a spoon-full of the medication he gave her, followed by
a large glass of cold milk. Feeling hungry she tucked into a good solid
fried breakfast. Something she hadn't done since her mother died.

Sitting on a sofa with a book, she began to nod off. The unaccustomed
meal left her feeling sleepy, after surviving on fast food. She struggled
out of the warm comfortable sofa to answer the door.

"Hi! How are you this morning. I've completed my chores for this morning
so thought I'd look in to see how you are," Rob said, giving her a pleasant
smile.

"Oh! OK! I was taking a nap. I guess I'm only just winding down," she
said. She yawned again.

"It takes a few days to shrug off the hectic city life. How are these? I
should have a look to make sure they're OK," he advised.

The tone of voice caught her unawares, as though he were merely talking
about her hands or feet. He expected an answer, yet she just stood there
blinking.

"I'm not sure, err, should I see a doctor?" she murmured.

"Don't worry, I'm an expert, better than that young doctor in the village.
Trust me, I've been caring for udders all my life. My father and
grandfather owned the farm. It's in my genes," he smiled.

Rob wondered if he was pushing things along too fast. The milk additive
was working as usual, which was evident from the breasts leaking. The
sedative in the jam, and the medicine, left her sleepy. More importantly it
left her compliant to suggestions.

Betty blinked and yawned again. It was difficult to think straight. His clear
sky-blue eyes, and the tone of voice were so reassuring. She nodded her
head, not really agreeing to the unusual suggestion. It was more to do
with an approval of him.

Before she had time to object, he lifted the t-shirt. He was studying her
breasts! She felt embarrassed. So much so it left her speechless. He
wasn't leering at her. It looked as though this was a professional
appraisal.
She was relieved when he pulled the t-shirt back in place. Her thoughts
were lost in a whirl of fog. It felt as though she were wading through
treacle. It was difficult to put her objections into words.

"You had better come down to the milking shed. I have just what you
need," he smoothly stated.

Betty wanted to ask what he meant. Instead, she let him lead her with a
firm grip on a shoulder. His big hand felt warm and comfortable. His
presence felt reassuring. She wanted to look at him for one of those
dazzling smiles, only she kept her head down, trotting alongside to keep
up with those long strides. It felt as though her father were taking her on
a special outing. All was well in the world, without the slightest of
problems.

On hands and knees she knelt on a soft padding of a carpet. It was

pleasing how well he was looking after her. Again he lifted the t-shirt. This
time he gently squeezed a breast. She watched with consternation as a
dribble of milk ran from a nipple.

It all seemed unreal. The fog clouding her mind left her unable to object.
Should she be letting him do this to her? It was difficult to object, as he
knew what he was doing. He would help her and look after her. His
soothing words comforted her.

"I'll have to express you. A build up will cause pain, so it's better to do
this before it becomes uncomfortable," Rob explained.

She gave him a dreamy smile in reply. This was pushing things along too
soon, yet it seemed to be working out. Although it was better to spend
time plumping up their breasts for a good yield, he needed to hurry things
along.

He hadn't planned on taking on another milker, but this one came along
unexpectedly, just in time. He always did a background check to make
sure there was no-one to come looking for them. With her parents gone,
and moving around as a consultant, meant there were no family or
friends to miss her. The opportunity was too good to miss.

She had unburdened herself on the phone, as stressed-out women often

did. Moving around from place to place meant she had lost contact with
friends, so she was a natural. Large corporations wouldn't care about a
temporary consultant one bit.

He fitted the rubber cup to a breast, having guessed the size from
experience. The inner nozzle fitted onto a large nipple. He squeezed the
cup, for the suction to hold it in place.

Betty looked down at what he was doing. She shook her head, trying to
clear it. A warning bell was sounding. It should have been shrill, only it
was muffled under the feelings of well being.

Another was fitted to her other breast. She felt the nipple being squeezed.
It was an unusual feeling. The cup held her breast tight, engulfing it
whole. It wasn't unpleasant. She watched him step away and wanted to
ask what was happening.

She heard her voice murmuring quietly. "I don't want to, err, what is it
you're doing to me? This doesn't seem right," she managed to say, with a
lot of effort put into each hesitant word.

She heard the thrum of electrical equipment starting up. Even that low
sound drowned out the softly uttered words. She felt one breast being
squeezed, then the other. The nipples were gently pulled by inner cups

"This will be a great help. It will be pleasant and comforting. You will
probably enjoy it," Rob told her, while stroking her hair.

She smiled back at him with a dreamy look upon her face. He lowered her
head, for it to hang low. She was balanced on padded supports so she
wouldn't collapse upon the cups. Held in place on hands and knees, she
wouldn't be any trouble.

He watched for a moment. Satisfied she was comfortable, he left her to it.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him leave. Left alone there was
nothing to do, except wonder what was happening. She knew of course,
yet it was difficult to accept. Why had she given into this? She lifted her
head to see white fluid flowing along a clear plastic tube.

It was her milk! She concentrated on the pulsing of her breasts. One then
the other was being squeezed. Her nipples felt as though they were being
drawn out longer and longer. It was a pleasant sensation. It felt as
though a baby was sucking hungrily on her teats.

He was right, she needed milking. Her nipples felt sensational! They were
deliciously alive. Both breasts felt full and productive. The rhythm was
getting to her. The relentless sucking of her nipples was sensitising her
whole body. She fidgeted, parting her legs slightly. She was getting
creamy down there. She pulled her thighs together, crushing her sex.

She began to rub her legs together, as though making fire. She was soon
ignited, only to suffer from frustration, without something to quench the
heat. She couldn't reach past the frame she was leaning on, or the cups
milking her.
When he walked in she stopped squirming. Almost past caring what
anyone thought, she was prepared to do anything to cum. She felt him
pull the shorts down. The loud whimper was either meant to complain, or
encourage him. It was impossible to tell which it was.

She exhaled a long blown out sigh. At first it felt as though his penis had
nudged her. Wanting to look around, from needing to see him, only a
deep embarrassment stopped her. It was as though not seeing him
touching her there, resolved her from blame. She felt him slide into her
so easily, it showed how wet she was.

Thoroughly confused, she watched him return to the machine. Wasn't he

still inside her? Through half closed eyes, she watched him again make
adjustments, by flicking switches. The thing inside her began to move.

With eyes now firmly closed she felt him pat her head and speak.
Whatever he said she heard not a word. The wonderful sensations were
rocking her back and forth on the frame. She was delirious with pleasure
from the feeling of being full.

The dildo throbbed and twisted inside, reaching deep into her vagina. It
pulsed against a hard distended clit. Instead of yearning for an orgasm,
she begged for it to continue, not wanting the all consuming sensations to
ever end.

All too soon an orgasm rocked her. From her vagina out to her fingertips,
a charge slowly boiled through her body. In her brain it felt as though all
her circuits were melting, or catching fire.

For a moment the muzzy feeling parted like clouds after a storm. A stark
reality shook her. She had let a machine give her a fantastic orgasm! The
cloud soon closed in again, like night time drawing a veil over a valley.
Her valley was sparkling still. The post orgasm left her with an all
pervasive sense of well being.

Her head was lifted. She opened her mouth for another dose of medicine.
She wanted to curl up in bed, with him cuddling her. She would have to
make do with his comforting words.

Unable to stand, she let him lead her out of the milking room.
Unaccountably he led her into a stall. Well, she couldn't make it back to
the cottage while in such a state of weakness. She fell asleep, while he
told her not to worry, and that he would look after her. There was no
need to say anything, for she just knew he would.

How long she had slept it was difficult to say. The cows were being
milked, for it was their comforting moos that woke her. She was on hands
and knees strapped to a frame. What was so unusual, apart from being in
a stall, was how she was hooked up.

A muzzle with a tube in her mouth, was frightening. She tried to shake it
off, but it was strapped around the back of her head. She suddenly
stopped moving her body on feeling something else.

The thing he had pushed into her vagina was inside. She was sure it had
been removed earlier, or was it yesterday? When did she have that
fantastic orgasm? Shaking her body again, she felt the cups gripping
breasts.

She was fully awake now. She had been right all along. Her sister must
have suffered this horrendous torture too. She hadn't searched the
milking shed, so maybe she was still here.
The buzz of machinery alerted her to something amiss. The suction on her
breasts intensified. The rhythm of before started up. One breast was
sucked then the other. They were being squeezed. Her nipples were being
pulled upon. She was being milked again!

Determined not to give in this time, she concentrated on the horrible

situation of being kidnapped. Of being forced into being milked. It all
made sense now. The chemicals listed were to improve the herd milking
yield. He had used them on her! A side effect enlarged her breasts.

At least she knew what was happening. She tugged at the frame holding
her in place. She felt the dildo in her vagina start up. It took a lot more
concentration to overcome that. She was losing the battle. Despite her
resolve, she drew closer to an orgasm.

Then something else happened. It was something in her bottom! Her eyes
opened wide in shock. Liquid was gushing into her anus. As quickly it was
sucked out again. She cramped a little, only it was so quick the pain was
easy to take.

Realising how much the machine controlled finished off the remaining
resistance. From then on she gave in to the building climax. When it came
it was as intense as before. Her whole body shook.

Quickly coming round she realised the tube in her mouth was feeding her
a liquid. Was it her own milk? Was it laced with those nasty drugs? She
hated to think about it, only it was a way to keep thinking, and not sink
into lethargy. She hoped this was some kind of nightmare, where she
awoke in her bed, or at least in the cottage.

Betty drifted off to sleep. It was the only option for there was no chance
of escaping from the stall. It was sparkling clean, though not where she
would chose to spend a vacation. A nervous giggle broke away from
around the muzzle. She examined the padded cuffs holding her to the
sturdy frame. There would be no escape.

All she could do was wait for a chance to get free. Perhaps there would be
an exercise period, to keep her fit.

Two days later, and after many orgasms, she heard voices. They weren't
in her own head either. Two men were talking. Rob and a stranger. Her
pulse quickened. They were talking about her. Would this mean a chance
of escape?

"This one isn't ready yet. I need a high yield, and maybe this one won't
reach the target," Steve complained.

"I'll give you a discount," Rob encouraged him.

"What's wrong with it then," Steve asked, sounding suspicious. He leaned

into the small stall to poke its udders with a solid finger.

"Nothing. It's not so far along the process that's all. It will soon start
producing a good yield, like the others," Rob promised.

'My God! He's selling me like a cow from his herd!' Betty murmured into
the muzzle.

She thought of her sister, wondering if this was a way of reaching her.
The fear of being sold off to a farmer, to become a part of his milking
herd, was overpowering the need to find her. There were others! She
wondered how many other women had been caught like this.

"It's not the price I'm worried about. Their upkeep means they have to
produce enough milk, or I make a loss," Steve told him.

"The same old story. My grandfather and father used to say the same
thing," Rob laughed. "You know this one will produce as much as the
others, given a few days. I'll not budge on price. That's it," Rob stated.

"Well, OK. We have a deal," Steve reluctantly agreed.

They spat and shook hands, in the old traditional way of farmers.

"When you leaving then?" Steve asked.

"What?" Rob asked, with his head cocked to one side.

"You heard me," Steve said, without conceding a fraction of his stoic
expression.

"Soon," Rob said, while wondering how the man had guessed.

He was closing down operations at the farm. The cattle would be

auctioned off to local farms, with the usual complaints about dairy
farming not paying. Instead he had planned an early retirement. He was
off somewhere warm and exotic, where living costs were cheap.

It all started accidently. His girlfriend had been the first to suffer the
effects of the experimental yield enhancer. She drank a lot of the farms
milk, where a chemical residue remained in the milk. Just enough to
increase her breast size, and make her lactate.

She had intended leaving him and the farm. Instead he hooked her up to
the machine, one crazy afternoon after a row. Coming to his senses, he
wondered what to do with her. A chance meeting with Steve, and a plan
was concocted between them.

Steve had women volunteering their milk, but the market was bigger than
he could supply. Suitable women among the volunteers, were
'persuaded', to stay on Steve's farm. With the help of a soporific drug
they accepted the offer and were still there, being milked several times a
day.

Betty, the latest milker was led out to Steve's pick up. On hands and
knees she crawled through the milking shed, and directly into the back of
the pickup. She didn't go without struggling. Kept drugged for several
days in a stall, meant the objections were weak and ineffectual.

Betty wanted to go with the farmer, to find her sister. Despite that idea,
crawling into the unknown was unnerving enough to resist. It was no
good, they handled enough women like this before, so knew how to get
their way with the minimum of effort.

Secured in the back of the truck she would have to wait for another
chance to escape. The farmer trust her up in a hogtie. Well worn cushions
kept her from rolling around. An old blanket kept her naked body from
view. Even naked she would have welcomed a strangers intervention,
with the opportunity of freedom.

At traffic lights she tried yelling for help. The ball gag was too effective.
her voice sounded loud in her ears, but she knew it was a feeble sound in
the back of the truck. If someone heard, it might sound like nothing more
than the bleating of a farm animal.

That's how she felt. Nothing more than a battery chicken, or a hog in a
pen. She wished she had taken notice of protestors, campaigning against
cruelty to farm animals. She vaguely remembered something about dairy
herds kept all their lives in milking sheds.

Was this to be her fate? Attached to a milking machine for the rest of her
life? Her breasts were already complaining, from missing a milking
session. Several times a day she had been milked, with the machine
forcing her to orgasm. Soon her whole body would have withdrawal
symptoms from a missing a session.

Led from the back of the truck, she crawled on soft rugs strewn over the
hard concrete. The sound of the milking machines in action tugged at her
mind. She could hear contented mewling sounds. Fully aware of what was
happening, it wrenched at her mind and body.

A part of her wanted to join them. It wasn't just her breasts that needed
milking. The deep satisfying orgasms had become a strong desire.
Crawling past a row of stalls she stared at women's backsides. They had
rubber dildo's, methodically moving in their vagina's.

She knew only too well what was happening. They were thrusting,
wriggling, and vibrating in a familiar pattern. It was impossible to avoid
an orgasm under such intense stimulation. She remembered giving in to
the inevitable, time and time again. It struck her how big they were, and
wondered if she had been fitted with one that size.

There were rubber dildo's in their bottoms too. These were still at the
moment. Each morning an enema would clean them out, ready for the
day ahead. After awhile this too became stimulating. With nothing else to
do, except wait for the next milking session, any stimulation became an
event to be welcomed.

"Sorry Steve, the stall isn't ready. Give us a few minutes," a worker
explained.
"I'll leave you to it then," Steve said.

Tied up to a stall, Beth looked around, looking for a chance of escape. Her
wrists and knees had been hobbled together, so that would have to be
dealt with first. She wondered if the outer door was locked. She hadn't
seen a key, or heard the grating sound of a lock.

Looking over her shoulder, she could see a large bolt securing it from the
inside. They were probably more concerned with keeping secrets, over
escaping milkers. Did that mean their security was lax?

A heavy mewling sound heralded an orgasm, by the woman in the stall

she was tied to. The woman turned her head toward Betty with unseeing
eyes. At the beginning of an orgasm she was in her own world of ecstasy.

Betty looked at the face, knowing how it felt. The woman was trying to
look at the thing pleasuring her vagina. She didn't even know she was
doing it, as it seemed to be just some innate reaction.

Betty gasped. It was her sister! Even though the woman wore a screwed
up sex face, she was recognisable. The desk photo, from the pile of
personal things supplied by her secretary, was recent. It was definitely
her sister. As the next woman ensnared in their despicable trap, she was
to occupy the next stall.

Betty looked below her sister. Under her was a pair of enormous udders.
They were supported in slings. They were so big, there was no room
between the suction cups and the floor of her stall. Each breast quivered
in turn as the machine milked her.

This was how she must look when being milked. "Oh! God!" Betty
exclaimed. Would her breasts become so big, after being fed that drug?
Had Rob fitted such large dildo's into her, or would they work up to that
size? She would be ruined by them, for no man could possible compete.

She began to struggle. After almost falling she concentrated on getting

her wrists free. The muzzle prevented her from biting the rope. In the
back of the pickup she had almost gotten them loose. Now they were
unravelling. She would have to leave her sister here, and come back with
help.

She just hoped someone would believe her. Men and women went
missing every day. Only a few ended up here. It seemed Rob had
carefully accepted the safe ones, where no one would come looking. This
time he had been wrong. She had found her sister!

As the rope unwound from her wrists, a pair of boots came into her view
of the floor.

"You're a lively one! In a hurry to get into your stall?" he joked.

With a hard pull on the muzzle, she was dragged into the next stall. Even
though he had to hold onto her, he managed to secure her to the frame.
It was padded to avoid injury. Sores were avoided by applying a greasy
ointment twice a day.

Secured tightly in place, he began to attach her to the machine. She gave
up protesting, as he took no notice of the garbled sounds emitted from
around the ball gag.

Rubber cups were pushed over each long nipple. They fitted tight. They
would be pulling on her nipples, milking her. The large cups were pressed
over her breasts, held in place by suction. These would massage her
breasts, just for pleasurable stimulation. The stimulation would also
increase the all important milk yield.

Out of the corner of an eye she saw the dildo, ready to be fitted into her
vagina. It looked far too big. She felt grease being liberally applied
between her legs. Finally it pushed home, all the way up inside. If felt as
though her entire body was being invaded.

She dare not think about how easily her body had succumbed to being
touched back there. Her pussy began to open up from the touch of the
hard rubber phallus, before she had a chance to resist. Not that there was
anything to do about it. She was tightly strapped into the frame, held
fast, with nowhere to go except in dreams.

The stranger removed the ball gag, ready to fit the feeding tube.

"Please, let me go!" she croaked. Her mouth was wet from dribbling
around the gag, yet her throat was dry. Partly from crying out for help,
and partly from becoming used to a liquid feed.

"Not up to me. I just work here," the guy stated.

Before she could utter another plea, he secured the muzzle around her
head. Behind her he fitted the rubber nozzle into her bottom. This time
she dare not watch. Feeling it slide into her rear was bad enough. She
didn't want to see how big it was.

She was now secured to the machine. Her body was from now on
controlled by it. The machine would remove her waste, feed, water, milk,
stimulate, and fuck her. Her whole life would be controlled by the
machine, until she became a part of it.
"All finished Joe?" Steve asked.

"Yep. Just need to program the machine for this one. What cycle is it on?
The same as the others?" Joe asked.

"Only four times a day for the first week. By the way, this one is for
breeding. That means no fucking it. Use its ass anytime you like, but keep
away from its cunt. I've got hold of some sperm for artificial insemination.
We need to start looking toward the future," Steve lectured.

"You should of saved your money. We could have done the job for you,
Steve," Joe chuckled.

"This is specially selected, to produce good milkers," Steve explained.

Betty heard them talking and quailed at his words. She almost passed
out. If this wasn't humiliating enough. She was going to be used to breed
milkers.

***

Several weeks passed, while everyday Betty dreamt, slept, and climaxed.
The cycle was programmed for six milking sessions during the day. A
nights rest was needed. The first week, Betty was exhausted each day.
Becoming used to it, the sessions were looked forward to.

The idea of being pregnant left her feeling warm and content. She smiled
at the thought of a child growing inside her belly feeling its first kick. Her
whole body glowed with appreciation for life and a sense of wellbeing.

The hum of the machine set her off. Like the others she made her own
distinctive sound. Each made a noise of anticipation. Some started by
sighing, and mewling plaintively before the machine even started up.
Others began bleating on hearing it. The whine of electric pumps was
drowned out by their individual sexual sounds, from needing to be milked,
and satisfied.

Betty heard the pumps start, and lifted her head to gargle a sound in
unison with the others. It was as though they were calling out to each
other, though it was purely in anticipation of what was to come. Intense
pleasure!

The frame she was held in had been adjusted higher, to accommodate her
ballooning udders. Her nipples were fatter, and elongated into big rubbery
teats. She sometimes watched her milk flowing from her breasts, through
clear plastic tubes into the machine. Most times she was too far gone, in
the throes of an orgasm.

The feeding tube had been replaced by a nozzle that could be sucked into
her mouth. There were treats available in the feeding trough. Chocolates
and other small treats were spilled into a pan, which she could stretch out
to reach with her mouth.

The vibrations in her vagina, and the sucking on her breasts were in full
swing. A fulfilling orgasm was on its way. Her head was full of delirious
sensations and powerful emotions. Her body was on fire with excitement.
The stimulation was all consuming. As usual a powerful orgasm rocked
her entire body. Her nerves seemed to be on fire!

When she recovered enough, she stretched her neck to suck a piece of
chocolate into her mouth. Life couldn't get any better than this. Later in
the afternoon one of the farm hands might visit, to give her a special
treat. He would pull the nozzle from her bottom, and fuck her ass.
She enjoyed Joe fucking her. He spoke to her in such a gentle way.
Though Mark was more exciting. He liked her to talk dirty while he thrust
into her. He stimulated her with naughty words, as well as his big cock.

They were considerate too. They kept a small nozzle up her ass, so as to
keep it tight. It still gave her a good cleaning enema each morning.

Suddenly she realised today was a special day! She was to be exercised in
the yard. She lifted her head to moan a happy cow sound. She really was
a happy, contented cow.

Dairy Farm

Farms were rapidly going out of business, and those left looked
dilapidated, without the profits to maintain them. The inspector was
impressed on how up-to-date the equipment was at this farm, and how
healthy the cattle were. She was pleased to give them five stars for every
aspect of dairy farming, from health and safety, to high cleanliness
standards.

Only having to complete the paperwork, she stumbled upon an artfully

concealed barn. While Joshua was distracted by a farm worker, she
opened a side door, and stepped in.

'What in hell is going on here?' the dairy inspector asked.

'Volunteers, for a new market,' he quickly said.

'I'm not sure what I should do about this,' Jenny said. 'I've never seen
anything like it,' she murmured.
'You can phone your boss from this office. He'll know what to do,' he
suggested.

Jenny stood staring at the rows of stalls containing women. The milking
equipment was familiar, but the sight of women in them was staggering.

Joshua led her to a small office. There were instructions for each stall
pinned to the walls, for when a farm hand came on duty. He stood with
his back to the notice board, not wanting her to see the details.

He pressed a button for the speed dial to Brian, her boss. They were soon
connected and talking in a familiar way, 'Yes, she has. She doesn't know
what to do about our human milk product. Are you sure? Don't worry I
can arrange it here. Can you arrange things in the office? OK, I'll sort it
out.'

'He wants to talk to you,' Joshua said, and handed her the phone.

With a deep frown upon her face, she gently replaced the receiver. It was
strange using an old fashioned phone, but she couldn't get a signal out in
the country. Stranger still was the sight through the window, looking out
over the human herd.

'Brian wants me to look the place over. I'm to use the usual scoring
sheet. I had no idea human milk was for sale? If Brian wants me to score
it, then I guess, it's alright,' she mused.

'We'll have a coffee first. I'll give you a bit of history, how we got started,'
he said.

'It all started accidentally, we didn't plan it,' Joshua said.

'How could all this be an accident?' Jenney asked.

'We were struggling like a lot of other farmers. We were asked to provide
milk to hospitals for patients with an intolerance to cow's milk. When they
left hospital they wanted to continue, so the business grew,' he said.

'Are you sure this is legal?' she asked.

She wasn't too pleased to find this shed, and was hard pressed to know
what to do about it. Scanning the gleaming equipment, she had to admit
the milking process looked efficient, and safe. Once back in her office she
would look up the regulations. She was a stickler for the rules, as Brian
knew full well.

'We have a health certificate, I'll show you when we get back to the main
office,' Brian lied.

'I'll need to see it, before leaving. A copy of yields and milk analysis,' she
demanded.

'Some local women were looking to earn some money. You know what a
mess the country's in. Our farm suffered badly. Nearly bankrupt, and
would have been, if we hadn't started this new product.' Joshua said.

Jenny had been a dairy farm inspector for five years, since leaving
college, and hadn't seen anything like this. Was it under her jurisdiction?
Just in case, she would have to inspect the set up as though it were any
other.

'The women were desperate to earn something, just to put food on the
table for their families. They came here with a proposition, and my wife
convinced me to give it a try. The milk sold out straightaway. The market
grew so quick we couldn't produce enough,' Joshua recounted.

'You've certainly invested heavily in new equipment,' Jenny commented.

She could see the tops of the stalls from the office, with gleaming pipe
work running to every one of them.

'How many stalls do you have?' she asked.

'Forty, with one spare, and ten more being constructed,' he replied, and
watched her write it down. He felt like telling her not to bother, but it kept
her occupied.

'We milked them by hand at first, but needed to improve the yield, so we
got in the first machine. The women agreed to try an animal feed
additive, Bactoli. It worked. Their milking yield improved dramatically,' he
said.

'I can hear a downside, in your voice,' she queried.

'Always is, isn't there, when you try a short cut to success,' he drily said.
'Anyway, we still needed more woman, and improve efficiency to handle
them. We designed a stall to automate the process, and keep them
happy,' he sighed. 'The yield went up yet again,' he explained.

'Didn't the woman complain?' Jenny spluttered.

'No, no, not at all. You'll see why in a moment. The women were more
contented, enjoying the milking process all the more, and produced more
milk,' he smiled.

'Are all those stalls occupied?' she asked.

The idea of these women being desperate enough to submit to this
indignity left her felling a little muzzy from shock.

'Yes. We had to recruit from all over the country. I'm ashamed to say, the
international financial crisis helped make it possible. There are women
from every state here,' he said, with pride.

'That many? Surely they would have to be desperate, to submit to such a,

err, position,' she said.

It was a surprise to find anyone willingly selling their milk. Submitting to

being milked here was an uncomfortable thought. She put a hand to her
forehead, feeling funny over the idea of it.

'They are desperate. The economy is shattered. These days you're only
safe from destitution, while looked after by a corporation,' he meanly
stated.

The government department she worked for had been taken over by a
corporation, but she ignored the jibe. Her job was safe, based on the
government employment rules, when the takeover went through.

'I'd better inspect the stalls,' Jenny said.

The background was interesting, but the day was getting on. She worked
under a transfer contract, so didn't have to work as hard as the new
people. She just had to complete one inspection a day.

Joshua looked at her, assessing if she was ready or not. It didn't matter if
she was approved the product or not, as the Family Foods corporation
distributed the product, and would protect its profits. Brian would settle
things in the office, and assured him she wouldn't be missed.

He looked at the inspector, appraising her. She was a little skinny for a
milker, though given the right formula she would make the grade. The
smart business skirt and jacket looked incongruous, with the white rubber
boots. Stepping from the office a wall of sound hit them. The buzz of
conversation was a low murmur, without a word heard clearly.

They stopped by the first stall.

'My God! She's naked!' Jenny exclaimed.

A naked woman was on hands and knees in a stall. She expected to find a
woman sitting on a chair with a breast discreetly covered under a cloth, or
something.

'It's to keep everything hygienic. It's even more important to keep the
product free of infections. It would be a transfer from human to human,
you see,' he explained.

Jenny was bright red from embarrassment. She looked away, to think
through what he told her. Of course, someone coming in to be milked
might be wearing contaminated clothes, or have an infection themselves.
A shower and injections before entering the stall would be necessary.

The woman didn't seem to be bothered at all. She didn't think the woman
had even noticed them. She glanced at the naked bottom, not wanting to,
yet fascinated. She suddenly wished she hadn't. There was a rubber thing
sticking in her bottom!

'That fitting gives them enemas, another cleanliness requirement,' he

explained.
She had been about to ask him about it so he jumped in. Her face was a
picture of confusion. She didn't know whether to give in to the logic of the
explanation, or make a fuss. Making a fuss would mean examining the
damn thing, and she couldn't bring herself to do that.

The big black rubber thing was scary. She felt more giddy than ever. If
she had been prepared for all this, it might have been easier to take. The
thought of taking that thing inside her, made her unsteady. She put a
hand on the stall railing.

'Oh! God! There's another one!' she whispered.

'Yes, that's to keep her happy, so as to improve the yield. Just before
milking time, it starts up. A happy milker gives better quality milk,' he
said.

Jenny looked away from the fat dildo penetrating the woman. It was
shocking! It was indecent! How could these women come here every day,
and subject themselves to that! Surely not all of them would be so lewd
as to subject themselves to such an awful process.

'I wouldn't want that,' she whispered.

The very idea of being in a stall left her feeling faint. There was no way
she was coming back here.

'We must get on. I need to see a few more stalls to assess if they are
adequate, and mark the form,' she said.

She wondered, adequate for what, as this was all so much out of her
experience. She had no training, or other examples, to compare this
extraordinary place with.

The sound of animals coming alive, sounds of agitation, started low then
grew louder. Machinery started up, with the sound of pumps whirring. The
animal sounds quietened. Maybe this was all a joke, and the other stalls
had animals in them.

Joshua patted the woman's bottom affectionately.

'Should you do that?' Jenny asked, looking worried.

'That's my wife,' he sighed.

Jenny looked away, feeling highly embarrassed. They were examining his
wife's bare bottom, with rubber nozzles poking out of her bottom, and
vagina. Her head span with embarrassment for the poor woman.
Inspecting cattle was one thing, but how could she inspect this man's
wife?

A low keening sound filled the shed. The two clear tubes were pumping
milk from the wife's breasts. She watched it flowing up two tubes, which
combined, and joined others overhead. Pushing herself into being
professional, she followed the tubes down either side of her flanks, to
examine the connections and teats.

The woman gave a snort, and a groan. She continued to groan and moo
like a cow. Oh! Hell! Was the woman having an orgasm? The black rubber
thing in her vagina had been vibrating and sucking powerfully, and now it
was slowing down. The woman's orgasm seemed to last for ages. Maybe
she should take one of those things back to the office to examine.

The naughty thought swirled through her head. How could she think such
a disgusting thing? Looking the woman over she could see her face was
covered with a mask. She was being fed liquid chocolate. That might be a
useful office addition. There were chocolate bars in a trough before her
too. Maybe it wasn't such an onerous task after all. Jenny was addicted to
chocolate, but suffering such an indignity to feed her habit, just wasn't
on.

Curiously, milk was still flowing up the tubes. That was an unexpected
volume for a woman to produce. She followed the tubes with her eyes,
down below the woman, to a bag of some sort. Treating this as just
another animal inspection, would be deliberately avoiding the strangeness
of it all.

She leaned over the woman's back, trying not to disturb her. She felt
underneath, following the tube to a nozzle. She felt the nozzle sucking
and relaxing, in a constant rhythm. Maybe this was a natural position
after all. The woman looked comfortable, seeming to enjoy it.

Her hand wandered over the curious bag, wondering if it was some kind
of infection prevention device. She bent down to take a closer look, then
leaped back and fell on the floor.

'My! God! That's a breast!' she whimpered.

Joshua helped her up from the tiled floor and steadied her. He judged a
little more patience was needed, and she would be ready to give up the
inspection.

'They're huge! Almost dragging on the floor!' she quavered in awe.

'She's been in the program a long time, one of the first. It's one of the
side effects of the drug,' he said.
Jenny wondered how the woman could possibly stand up, for they must
weigh so heavy. It was mind numbing to realise she had been feeling his
wife's breasts. This whole situation was difficult to comprehend. She
wanted to go outside for some fresh air, to clear her mind. She took a
deep breath, knowing it was an excuse to escape the damnable place.
She should be professional and carry on. With a great deal of effort, she
walked unsteadily to the next stall.

'This one too has been here for some time,' he said.

Did he mean she had been in the stall a long time, or in the program a
long time. Knowing what to look for, she could see these breasts were
huge as well.

Clearing her throat she asked, 'How long?'

'Around eighteen months. I can look up the records if you like. They are
taken out and exercised regularly, to keep them fit,' he added.

'Do you mean it, she, has been kept in there?' Jenny asked, with a weak
sounding voice. It reflected how she felt. She needed him to say she had
mistaken him.

'Yes, this is her stall. She's very comfortable. Enjoys good food, receives
chocolate treats on a regular basis, and occasional exercise. Of course
there's the orgasms, which keeps them happy,' he explained.

'In there all the time, day and night?' she murmured, no longer able to
sound incredulous over anything he told her.

'Yes, apart from exercise in the yard,' he said.

He held onto her in case she fell. They made their way down the aisle,
with her murmuring to herself. She was plainly in shock. It was partly
from so many women having an orgasm at the same time. It must be
overwhelming for her. The emotion, and musky smells spilling over her
were powerful.

At the end of the aisle they reached an empty stall. 'Here you are. You
can take a closer look at this one. Check it out to make sure it meets with
your approval,' he said.

With his hand withdrawing from her arm, she felt herself sinking to her
knees. To cover up her weakness she crawled in. What would it be like?
There was chocolate in the trough, temptingly close to her nose. She was
tempted to nibble on it, like one of the milkers. On hands and knees she
stayed there, trying to recover her strength. It had all been a shock,
draining her of energy. She needed a shot of sugar, to boost her energy
levels. She leant forward and nibbled on the bar. It was delicious.

Was he helping her up?

Joshua quickly snipped the back of her clothes with a pair of shears. A
wide strap was pulled around her, then another, to hold her in position.
He fitted a feeding mask over her face, for hot chocolate to dribble into
her mouth. Her clothes were hanging open under her, so it was easy to fit
the suction cups to her breasts. They were clipped to the straps, securing
them in position. He squeezed them, to make sure the inner ones were
holding her nipples firmly.

He pulled the rest of her clothes from around her body. He spread a
liberal amount of grease into her asshole then fitted a small rubber
suction tube into her. A slightly larger one was fitted into her vagina. She
was all set. It hadn't taken long as it was a well practised routine.

The drug designed to enhance milk yield, also made them docile. It was
inevitable, once it had been absorbed, that she would be compliant. The
coffee he gave her in the office was laced with strong dose of Bactoli.

She had been complaining about something, while he fiddled with her
rear. He put his head down close to hers, to find out what the matter was.

Jenny was outraged. 'I don't want to try the damn stall out!' she shouted.
The sound of her voice was muted by the mask, and tube down her
throat. 'Get me out of this,' she complained. Still weak, she managed to
kick up a bit of a fuss, from being so angry.

'I'll report you to my boss!' she shouted.

'Sorry about this, but Brian suggested I try you out. Apparently the
corporation doesn't want employees on the government contract. You're
considered inefficient. They want employees that are more flexible.
Brian's words not mine. You were sent here, to get you out of the way,'
he sadly explained.

He didn't like the corporations, but they bought the product and shifted it
to customers. He had no choice except to deal with them.

'Let me go!' she pleaded.

'Don't worry. The feed will calm you down. The machine will keep you
clean and happy. Think about having four orgasms a day, and all the
chocolate you want. As a milker you'll enjoy having your breasts sucked.
The machine sucks on your nipples and breasts at the same time. One
breast then the other, in a constant suction, until you've been milked dry.
Four times a day, four orgasms, and lots of pleasure,' he said.

That was the up side. The downside was that her breasts would grow so
enormous she wouldn't be able to stand. Her back wouldn't support the
huge udders she would soon develop. The drug in the feed would keep
her compliant, and soon her complaining would end for good.

'You're young and healthy, so I I'll put you into the breeding program. No
artificial insemination either, the real thing, with the farm hands. The
young milkers are very receptive, and very happy with the attention.
Don't worry, you'll still be milked four times a day, it's just an extra treat.
After awhile you'll be up to six milking sessions a day, with six orgasms a
day. That's something to look forward to, ' he reassured her.

He looked at her slim body and knew the young herdsmen would enjoy
fertilising this one. It would take a few months for her breasts to expand
to full size. Until then, they could take her out for regular exercises. It
was bonus for the guys to be screwing them, and kept the milkers happy
too. It increased their yield, so he was happy.

He thought back to when his wife joined the program. They didn't know
the effects of it then. The women stayed in the stalls for longer periods,
until they no longer wanted to leave. When he realised how docile they
had become, and that it was down to the drugs, it was too late to change
things.

To keep the herdsmen quiet he let them take the milkers out for exercise.
He remembered that day when he was leading a new milker into the bunk
house. It was good exercise for them, but it was slow, as they crawled on
hands and knees. He still warned the guys it was important to keep their
nipples from scraping the ground. He brought her into the bunk house,
and stood still, while his eyes adjusted to the dark interior.
He smiled at a new guy exercising a milker. He was really going for it,
banging away for all his worth. The milker turned its head as he passed,
with a blissful look on its face. It was enjoying being fucked for real,
rather than the machine inducing an orgasm.

As he slowly walked passed he recognised the milker, it was his wife. The
ecstasy of an orgasm screwed up her features, and she groaned loudly.
What could he say? "Pull your cock out of my wife, before you cum!" From
that moment on, he let things go. Trying to find an alternative drug to
prevent the side effects was abandoned. He accepted the milkers were
cattle, and would be treated all the same, whoever they had been.

What he told Jenny was the truth, it hadn't been planned, it just turned
out this way. He looked along the rows of stalls with pride. They had forty
milkers at the moment, and were still recruiting.

A new recruit

Janet had little alternative. She had to sign on at an employment agency,

as the government no longer paid benefits. She had no skills, apart from
being able to look after aging parents. She was just twenty, and they had
passed away a few months ago. Money was needed to pay the mortgage
arrears, and other bills.

The old guy sitting before her was nice and friendly. He was lucky enough
to have a government contract, taken over by a large corporation. He
explained how things worked these days, after a melt down of the world
economy, though she understood little of it.
'This sounds like a position open to you. No previous experience required.
All financial liabilities will be settled on being accepted. The corporation
has to do that by law. It's a way of stabilising the economy, though I'm
not sure if it's a good thing for the individual,' he commented.

'What do you mean, it's not a good thing? It sounds good to me,' she
enthused.

'Well, the corporations settle up all your debts, but that makes you
indebted to the corporation, until you pay everything back. The good
thing is, no interest is added to what you owe. This position is with Food
Corporation, a major owner of farms, distribution, and retail outlets,' he
said.

Janet wasn't sure what all that meant, but she was eager for an interview,
as it seemed like a lifeline. She was drowning in debt, with no prospects
of survival. A nasty debt collector suggested she work in a brothel. His
leering face had her cringing at the thought of it. She couldn't possibly
consider such a disgusting proposal.

Joshua sold his dairy farm to the Food Corporation, yet they kept him on
to oversee the operation as he'd built it up from a dairy farm. The
specialist milk product had started small, supplying human milk to
hospitals, and institutions. Now they were supplying milk nationwide, and
demand meant production had to be increased.

He used volunteers, and as the economy continued to slump, there were

enough women coming forward. They had to be tested for disease and
drugs, so as to keep the product pure, and that was expensive. They
weren't always reliable either. As demand increased he needed a more
stable and constant supply.
A young man who's farm was going broke, like all the others, supplied
him with women willing to stay twenty-four-seven on the farm. Willing,
might have been stretching the truth a little. He asked no questions, and
turned a blind eye to the young man's dubious methods. The women he
sent to the milking shed were still here, producing good quality milk.

Needs had moved on, and were beyond that semi-legal source. With the
Food Corporation owning the farm, more milk had to be produced at a
lower cost. Surprisingly, they arranged to send volunteers through an
employment agency. At least that's what they were supposed to be,
volunteers. They were always desperate young women, with little choice,
yet a certain persuasion technique was still needed.

She smiled at the old boy, when he walked in to the interview room. 'Hi,
I'm Janet,' she said.

He made her welcome and offered her a drink, then they settled down for
the interview.

'The corporation sent you for a medical, and that came back clear. You're
a suitable candidate for helping us provide a very valuable product.
Hospitals need human milk, and we supply it. Here's a brochure. I want
you to study it, and let me know if you're interested. If you are, I'll give
you a tour of the facilities. I'll leave you to read it over. If you have any
questions, I'll be happy to answer them,' he smiled, and left.

Janet sat on the comfortable chair wondering if she had heard right. She
had seen, heard, and smelt the animals. There were cows, goats, and
other animals on the farm. She assumed they were all milked, which was
a surprise, as she had never really thought about where food came from.
Of course the milk she poured on her cereal each morning came from
cows, but as a city girl she had never been on a farm.
The man had slipped in something about human milk. Surely they didn't
package human milk like cow's milk? It must have been a slip of the
tongue. She opened the brochure and skipped the blurb about the
wonderful Food Corporation, and how it supplied eighty percent of all food
in the country.

There it was, two pages, describing the valuable contribution human milk
was making to keeping infants alive in hospitals all over the country. She
flipped the pages back and forth, but there was nothing about how they
milked a human. Of course, it would have to be a woman. Surely she
would have to be pregnant and lactating, wouldn't she?

The warm room and the boring booklet, left her feeling drowsy. She
needed a job, but she wasn't pregnant, and surely that's what was
needed. The leering face and innuendo's of that debt collector came to
mind. She didn't want to face him again. Next time he called, everything
from the apartment would be taken and sold. She would have to find
somewhere cheap to live. She was kidding herself, it would have to be
free accommodation.

***

She really needed this job and that horrible debt collector could help her
qualify. She grimaced at the idea. In the stuffy room the idea took root in
her imagination. The nasty big man came back to her apartment,
assessing her belongings for their value.

'All my debts will be lifted soon, except that I've got to become pregnant.
I wondered if you would help me out? Yes, it does mean, err, as you say,
having me. Thank you, sir, you are so kind to help me out of my financial
problem,' Janet coyly spoke.
'I'm afraid it might not work first time, so would you mind repeating the,
err, arrangement, until I'm obviously pregnant. No, I'm not joking. You're
so kind to help me out of this mess. What? Right now? Well, I guess so.
You want me to do what? Well, I guess you should direct me, if it helps
you perform. Yes, of course, I'll do whatever you think best, to make sure
it works,' she sincerely said.

'Are you sure you want me naked, on my knees? Just this first time then.
Other ways, for next time? Slowly please, I need to write them down. This
list of future requirements seems, err, rather complicated. I'm not sure
that's possible, is it? Up my bottom? Really? Oh! I guess you know best.
Down my throat, to make me pregnant? Well, as you're so kind to help
me out, I'll submit to your advice. Yes, sure, whatever you say, after all, I
need you to make me pregnant. No problem, I'll keep sucking your cock
down my throat, until I become pregnant,' she worriedly agreed.

'So, let me get this straight. I'll stay with you at your apartment, sucking
your cock as often as possible, until I become pregnant. You promise to
give me lots of sperm? Ok, then, it's a deal. Of course, I haven't forgotten
the other things. I've written them down. They seem strange, but I'm
sure you know best,' she timidly spoke.

***

Janet shook herself, wondering why that objectionable bully came to

mind. There was a dishy neighbour her own age living nearby, yet she
hadn't thought of him. It was something about the man's forcefulness,
and the threat of repossessing everything she owned. It felt as though he
had her life in his hands, not just her possessions.

Joshua came back in with two coffee's.

'Oh! You startled me,' Janet gasped.

'Sorry, has all this boring stuff put you to sleep?' he chuckled. 'So what do
you think? Of course you have questions. I'm willing to answer them, if
you think you might like to join us here,' he said.

'Well, the brochure was interesting. I do need to sort out my abysmal

financial situation,' she said. 'This looks like the only job available to me,
without qualifications. Though, what would I be doing?'

'We have a modern facility here, milking all sorts of animals, even
humans. Of course we treat people with high regard. The milking
equipment and product treatment is very similar. I designed it myself,' he
was saying.

'But what would I be doing?' she asked.

'Sorry, a bad habit, talking shop. You would be providing milk, that's all. A
very simple and natural thing, really,' he said, glossing over the details.

'Oh.' Janet whispered.

She sat looking bewildered for a moment, then looked at him

suspiciously.

'But how? I'm not pregnant,' she quietly said. 'You're not going to make
me pregnant are you?' she spoke with an obvious sound of anxiety.

'No! Good grief, no,' he chuckled. 'We have treatments that can induce
lactation. You will have a strict diet, and your health will be monitored
very closely. It's perfectly safe and decently carried out. You will be
looked after, better than anytime in your life,' he reassured her.

'Well. I guess. Does it hurt?' she asked.

'Certainly not, not at all. I think it best you see the facilities. A lot of your
questions can be better answered by the milkers,' he offered.

'Milkers?' she asked.

'Yes, we call the women providing milk, milkers,' he reassuringly smiled,

and ushered her out of the interview room.

Janet was bewildered and in a daze. She didn't hear a word he said while
walking down the corridor. He opened the door on a perfectly ordinary,
comfortable looking room. It wasn't disturbing so much as a surprise.
Women sat around chatting, with their breasts bared. Attached to their
breasts were rubber cups, with tubes discreetly curled under their arms,
and out of sight.

Janet stood in the doorway gaping at them. The rubber cups were pulling
at the women's breasts in a rhythmic sucking motion. She rubbed an arm
over her breasts, and realised what she had done, and dropped her arm
to her side.

'Come and meet our milkers,' he encouraged.

'This is Janet, a potential new recruit. Madeline, Andrea, and Florence,' he

introduced them.

'Hello,' Janet quietly spoke.

She was embarrassed, yet the three women nonchalantly sat there as
though it were perfectly normal. Their beasts were swollen and tight, with
milky fluid running down the tubes. One of them adjusted a tube to a
more comfortable position, and carried on chatting.

'You might like to sit with them awhile, and ask questions,' he suggested.

She sat down before her legs gave in.

'We get paid for every pint we produce. It's a nice place to sit and chat.
Florence taught me to knit, so we get something useful done at the same
time,' Andrea smiled.

'I'm not sure about producing milk,' she mumbled.

'Don't worry about that. They give you a drug to bring on lactation. It
enhances your breasts, and makes them produce more,' Madeline said.

'It doesn't hurt, and it's perfectly safe. It's been developed and used over
several years,' Florence added.

'They do feel swollen and tight, when we come in for milking each
morning,' Andrea explained.

'I thought accommodation came with the job, but you go home each
day?' she asked.

'Yes, we have families to look after. The money helps out a lot, and as
you must know, everyone is feeling the pinch. We're lucky, our husbands
have jobs,' Madeline said.

'You should ask Joshua about staying here. They have accommodation, as
there are a lot of people who've lost their homes since the world banking
crisis. He'll give you the details,' Florence said.

They talked about the lack of money, family, and hopes for the future.

During the conversation the pumps carried on working away on their

breasts. Janet became less shy about what was happening, and relaxed
enough to examine their breasts. They were naked from the waist up,
unruffled about displaying their large mammaries. Of the machinery, all
that could be seen were the cups, pulsing, and sucking at the women's
breasts. There were teats inside, sucking on their nipples. A short length
of tube ran under their arms, into the comfy chair. It was a clear plastic,
with their milk clearly running from their breasts.

***

'So what do you think? Could you manage the job?' Joshua asked.

'I guess so,' she hesitantly said.

This wasn't the career she imagined, though what else could she do. The
three women she met looked contented, and happy with the
arrangement. The idea of joining them didn't seem so bad.

'You have to be sure. Once the medication is administered you will need
to be here every day, to be milked. It will be uncomfortable being late for
your session, and painful if you miss a day,' he explained.

'Yes, I'm sure, I can do it. My apartment is being repossessed, with all my
belongings, to pay off debts. So, I need some place to stay,' she said,
trying for a sympathetic look.

Joshua knew this, and everything else about her, as the corporation
investigated thoroughly before sending anyone to the farm. The three
women being milked were regulars, and merely window dressing. The
pleasant room was useful for these interviews, as well as researchers,
government officials, customers, and the curious. The reality of producing
many gallons of milk per day, was very different.

'That's not a problem. We offer accommodation to all our recruits. Again,

I must tell you that once you join the group, you must stay for the full
term. You must stay for at least six months. We have to consider the cost
of training, and the period before you are fully producing milk. It's
expensive, and we need to recoup the costs,' he explained.

He was lying, but not a flicker revealed it, for he had gone through this
many times before.

'OK, that sounds reasonable. When can I start?' she said, trying to put on
a brave face.

'Sign these documents, and we can start the training very quickly,' he
smiled.

Without reading a word she signed and handed over the contract. Since
the breakdown of world economies, laws had been drastically changed.
Corporations had taken over many of the responsibilities toward citizens
from governments, which were broke. In return they had more control
over employees. This contract waived her personal rights, with the
corporation taking over responsibility for everything in her life. Some
found it comforting, whereas, others were rebellious.

'Let's have a drink to celebrate your new job. Milk of course,' Joshua
smiled.
'Is this, err. Oh, alright. Mmm, it tastes nice,' she said, with surprise.

'Perhaps you would like to see where you will be staying,' he offered.

The whole thing had gone efficiently. From job centre that morning, to
acceptance in a new job took only a couple of hours. She was pleased
with herself, though still nervous. She felt confused over what was
expected of her. She wasn't lactating, yet they thought she would be
acceptable. The idea of taking drugs was worrying, and her head was
spinning from the speed of events. Still, she needed this job, as there
weren't any other positions open to her.

Walking outside, she took a deep breath, trying to clear her head, after
the stuffy interview room.

'Here, let me help you, some of the open ground is uneven,' he said.

Joshua took her elbow to guide her. He led her towards a large cow shed.
She tried shaking her head of the confusion. Her mind felt as though it
were filled with cotton wool. Weren't they going to see the
accommodation block? Corporation blocks were of a standard type,
though this looked different.

They walked through a small door, for a wave of sound and smells to
assail her senses. Maybe he'd said something about visiting a milking
shed, and she hadn't noticed. The speed of events this morning clouded
her mind, as though she were walking in a dream.

They walked down a path between stalls. Perhaps he was showing off the
other side of the business, where they milked cows. A smell of chocolate
was unexpected, when she thought there would be a smell of milk, feeds,
and the odour of animals.
The low hum of electrical equipment started, followed by an almost
human sigh. A buzz of excited voices, or rather, a sort of lowing began.
There was movement in the stalls, and she turned her head to look.

'Take a closer look, if you like. These are our longest serving recruits.
They've been with us for years, and I assure you we look after them well.
They're fed and milked several times a day. You've signed up to a
growing and profitable production line, so you'll have no fears over being
homeless, or being short of food ever again,' Joshua explained.

'What? Like that? But, how can I?' she murmured a protest.

The sight of a woman in the stall was frightening. She felt on the edge of
panic, yet could neither fight or flee. She stood mesmerised, staring at
the excited woman. Unlike the three women talked to earlier, she was on
all fours, hooked up to a machine. In front of her was a trough of
chocolate pieces, hence the smell of cocoa.

Janet followed the pipes she was connected to. One went to the woman's
mouth, another two went behind her, where Janet stood staring in shock.
A rubber nozzle was in her anus, and another in her vagina. They began
to vibrate with energy from the machine.

A chorus of sighs and bovine mooing sounds filled the shed. The obvious
sounds of pleasure was overpowering. A female musky scent filled the air.
Janet reeled from the onslaught of so many women anticipating sexual
pleasure. It was effecting her, drawing her in. Her head drooped forward
over the railing. Looking down into the stall, she was shocked.

Tubes ran down under the woman, to something difficult to comprehend.

Beneath the woman were two large sacks. She wanted to believe these
were for collecting milk. They seemed alive, as they throbbed in time with
the machine. Large rubber cups were, pulsing, sucking at her breasts.
Those huge sacks were her breasts!

They were so big there wasn't enough room for the cups beneath them,
so a depression in the floor was needed. The woman wiggled her hips,
swaying gently in time with the vibrating nozzles in her ass and vagina.
The whole scene was so bizarre it made Janet's head swim.

'A combination of medications will soon have you producing, though not
as much as these beauties. It won't take long for you to get into the
swing, as it were,' he chuckled.

It was a reference to the swing of the women's hips, while being cleaned
out, ready for the orgasm routine. The human cows were anticipating
their pleasure to come, waiting for the nozzles to stimulate them toward a
deep orgasm.

'I can't, not like this,' Janet murmured.

She mumbled instead of screaming, which she desperately wanted to do.

'Don't worry. You've been given an effective tranquiliser, in the milk you
drank. You should be feeling it by now. A difficulty to think straight, with
an inability to react. Very soon you will accept all this, and settle down to
enjoy the process with the other milkers,' he said.

He was explaining the process to her, without holding back the awful
details. Janet realized that every moment she was there, pushed her
deeper into the trap. Soon there would be no turning back. Perhaps she
was already lost, unable to fight for freedom.
'The machine will clean you out, removing urine, and faeces, so there's no
need to stray from your pen,' he explained.

It wasn't just a tranquilizer, it was worse than that. Every word was
deepening her conditioning. She could feel herself giving in, and accepting
the appalling proposal. Even the act of nodding her head to his
suggestions gave her more and more pleasure, which in turn deepened
his hold upon her. She felt a little dizzy as he spoke to her. He was taking
away a bit more of her identity with each passing moment. It was vital
she escape him, before it was too late!

Joshua's explanations became meaningless, as they turned into a

resonant sound, reaching into her subconscious. She slowly sank to her
knees, and he guided her further along, to an open stall. For a moment
she resisted, with the last vestiges of her free will rejecting the idea of
becoming a human cow.

He prodded her bottom, and she crawled forward. Janet shook in fear, as
he cut away her clothes. Her head felt heavy, and it drooped down,
looking as though she accepted her demise. He fitted a feeding teat into
her mouth, and secured the straps around the back of her head.

Feeling something behind her, invading her vagina, she lifted her head to
protest. The thing in her mouth prevented any sounds that could be heard
above the cow women's crooning, and pleasurable moaning.

Joshua greased her asshole and eased it open. Her whole body was
relaxed from the drug, so the long rubber nozzle was soon eased in. The
other shorter, fatter nozzle, was already inside her vagina.

All that remained were the two suction cups. Inside them were small
tubes, that fit over the nipples. These actually milked the human cow,
whereas the larger bra like cups massaged the breasts. This was for
pleasure, which increased the yield. He fitted them like a bra, which she
would soon outgrow. Larger cups would be fitted as her breasts increased
in size and production.

There was plenty of room under her at the moment, but soon her breasts
would be large enough to touch the floor. Extra support would be needed
then, especially before milking times, when they were heavy and
pendulous. The timings would have to be set to coincide with the other
human cows, as being milked and pleasured together, their yield
increased.

He flicked a switch on the control panel for a beginners routine. The

suction cups began to pulse in tune with the nozzles in her body. The
cups were gently massaging her breasts, with the small tubes pulling on
her nipples. The pulling motion would elongate her nipples, and toughen
them up for the milking routine.

It would take a couple of weeks before she could withstand being milked
four times a day.

At the same time, a healthy feed was running into her mouth. She would
have to suckle upon the teat, as she couldn't spit it out. In the feed was a
mixture of drugs, to enhance her yield, and keep her docile. When the
training program was over, she wouldn't need to be strapped into the
feeder. She could lean forward onto the feeding nozzle, or dip into the
trough, for chocolates and other treats.

The nozzles in her anus and vagina were practical, as they cleaned her
out twice a day. They also gave pleasure, inducing an orgasm during the
four milking sessions.
He watched her sucking on the teat in her mouth, like an infant feeding
on its mother's milk. The new girl had accepted its place as a human cow.

Feeling calmer, more docile, and more domesticated, Janet concentrated

on the feelings coursing through her body. Her whole body was tingling.
Her vagina had never felt so full. Beside the big satisfying cock, was
another fullness, seeming to rub against it. The two rubber phalluses
could be felt through the thin walls separating anus and vagina.

Her breasts throbbed with energy, tingling, and pulsating. Her nipples
were so sensitive she was near to an orgasm, just from that stimulation
alone. On top of that were the wonderful sensations in her naughty bits.
Her entire body was quivering with arousal.

For some unfathomable reason she wanted to give milk. She yearned to
lactate, and just knew it would be soon. An image of those human cows
big udders came to mind. She wanted hers to be big and productive, like
theirs. For a moment she wondered why she had these thoughts.

She was in a stall, sharing a milking shed with other cows, so of course
she had bovine thoughts. She wanted to be a good cow for her owner,
and give lots and lots of milk. If she was good, would he milk her by
hand? The thought was delicious. Maybe, if she was a really good cow,
the cowhands would breed with her.

Janet sighed, wishing her breasts would hurry up and grow huge, like a
proper human cow,

Several hundred human cows began to orgasm, with sounds and smells
concentrated in the shed. The shed was full of moo's, lowing, gasps, and
groans. A wave of musky hormonal odour swamped Janet, forcing her to
orgasm. It was a deep, long drawn out cum, with a moan to match. A
guttural animal sound emanated from around the nozzle in her mouth.

Janet relaxed. She was happy and contented, like a well looked after
farmyard animal, a milky bovine animal. She would soon be contributing
her share of milk, and earning her keep. She was happy in a rosy world of
an orgasmic afterglow.

Just as soon as she grew huge breasts, everything would be as it should

be.

Ch. 05

A new hucow is bred

'I'll be out this afternoon, Jim. Charlie needs me to make a special farm
inspecting. They produce milk, and need a hygiene certificate,' Doris
explained, sounding full of self-importance.

When the door was pulled behind her, the team gave a collective sigh of
relief. The boss, Charlie, had done them a favour by getting her out of the
way for the day. Doris was their immediate boss, but not a good one. She
was pedantic, a stickler for the rules, and far too serious.

'A pain in the ass,' Jim said.

'Does she still know how to complete an inspection?' Herbert asked.

'The theory, yes. A practical real inspection, I doubt it,' Philip opined.

'Whatever, I don't care. We have a free afternoon, and I'm going to a

sports bar,' Andrew told them.

They got their coats, without a word said. They looked like men on a
mission.

Doris too looked self-important, though she always did. Driving onto the
farm she was almost pleased to see a disinfectant bath. Dipping her boots
into the liquid would prevent disease being spread from farm to farm. Not
that she had any other farms to inspect today.

There was a rhythm of excitement to her step, as this was the first
inspection carried out in ten years. She was looking forward to tearing a
strip off these lax farmers.

'Welcome to the farm, Miss Jones,' Joshua said.

'We'll start in the office, lead the way,' she stated.

'As you wish,' Joshua sighed.

Some of the inspectors were lazy and just copied the previous inspection,
with a few extra notes made. Others took a pragmatic approach and got
round what was possible, and gave the farm a certificate. They could tell
by looking at the place that the operation was run cleanly and efficiently.

Charlie, the head inspector and him, went back a long way.

'Has Charlie retired yet?' Joshua asked.

'What? Oh! No, he's still in the office. When he does, I'll be taking over
the food inspection department. I'm in charge of the dairy team at the
moment,' she said, and raised herself up.
There was a nasty look to her lips and eyes. No understanding for human
foibles were allowed by this person.

'Take a seat and I'll get the information you need,' he said.

Joshua put a coffee in front of her, and crossed his fingers. Without
thinking she sipped the coffee. It was best Brazilian, and she almost
smiled at the pleasant taste. Ersatz coffee was all they could afford in her
office. The world economy had collapsed and only the privileged few could
afford luxuries.

'I'll decide what paperwork to inspect,' she snapped.

'Of course,' he said, and took a long drink of coffee.

She didn't follow suit, but continued to sip at it, while examining yield
sheets.

'From memory these yields don't look right. Does this mean you're getting
four milking sessions a day?'

'That's right,' he smiled.

'That's not possible. Do you have genetically modified cows here?' she
demanded.

Seeing her squinting at the page, then put it down on the desk, he figured
she was nearly there. Usually it made him sad to know what was to
become of them. In this case he didn't feel anything. If anything, it was
relief that his successor wouldn't have to put up with her.
Like Charlie he too was past retirement age, but then, what would he do
with all that free time?

'Charlie, Joshua. You want me to deal with the situation as agreed,' he

enigmatically spoke.

'Sure, go ahead. You see what I mean, I'm sure. It's obvious she can't
take over the department. Seniority isn't enough,' he heavily sighed.

'Sure, no problem. See you next week,' Joshua said.

'I'll show you the sheds, so you can see for yourself,' Joshua told her, and
helped her up.

About to protest, she glanced at the blurry paperwork, and decided not to
show herself up. She didn't like being manhandled, but she was unsteady
on her feet. In some ways she'd missed having a man, but settled down
with a cat instead. It wasn't loneliness, it was just a matter of having too
much time on her hands. She'd be all right once outside the stuffy office.

'Fresh air is good for you,' she said, and breathed in deeply.

He looked at her, wondering why she said that. He shrugged his

shoulders, and put it down to the drug taking effect. They were in a large
shed full of hucows, so there was no fresh air here.

The atmosphere was full of female hormones, which increased with the
periodic excitement of anticipated orgasms. Several hundred women
enjoying a synchronised orgasm had an effect on a woman, which is why
they couldn't work in this shed.

A woman had joined their team, but she hadn't lasted the day. After
inspecting hucows during two milking sessions, he found her on the floor
humping her fingers. The poor thing's mind had been swamped and
overcome by the female herd. The sounds, smells, and hormones in the
air, from several hundred women experiencing an orgasm, floored her.
She hadn't a choice, she had to join in with the others, who were having a
tremendous orgasm.

Doris walked into the barn, not seeing the hucows. The milking apparatus
was universal, for humans and cows, until the tubes reached into the
stall. The only difference were the suction cups fitted to teats. The women
had especially adapted cups, to fit their breasts. These squeezed the
plump breasts for pleasure, which increased the yield. Inside the cups
were nozzles that rhythmically sucked on the nipples, to produce milk.

A machine at each stall was programmed to suit the woman being milked.
Date she entered the stall, serviced, walked, mated, milk yield, how firmly
to squeeze her breasts, and how hard and long to suck her nipples. The
farm hands kept an eye on these factors, and more, then made
adjustments if necessary.

'Let me help you,' Joshua said.

'No need, I can walk,' Doris crossly said, and nearly fell.

He took her elbow to guide her to a stall. By the time they reached it, she
was away with the fairies, almost flying.

'You'll notice the hucows, as we now call them, are very contented. They
have everything they could wish for. In this day and age, freedom is just
a word, unless you're rich. The cups you can see don't just stimulate the
nipples for milk, they also massage the breasts. I'm told it's a very
pleasant feeling,' he explained.
'Breasts. . . Huge!' Jo struggled to say

'Yes, enlarged breasts are a side effect of the yield stimulant. Notice the
feeder in her mouth. This delivers a mixture of yield enhancer, and a
calming agent. You have a calming agent now, but won't receive one in
your feed, just the yield enhancer,' Joshua pointed out.

'Feed?' she asked, while trying to focus on the stall.

'Yes, you will be fed and milked. These two fixed in the anus, and vagina,
keep them clean, as well as stimulating. Everything has been set up for
comfort, and pleasure. If you like chocolate, that is available as a treat, or
something else, whatever you fancy,' Joshua encouraged.

'Chocolate!' Jo murmured.

In the new world run by corporations, it was difficult to obtain luxuries,

but here the treats helped keep the hucows contented, which increased
the milk yield.

'You'll soon settle down, and have big full udders like the other hucows,'
Joshua smiled.

'Me? Udders?' she asked, while gazing at the hucow.

'Yes, you will be in the next stall,' Joshua said.

'No!' she tried to yell, only the sound of her voice was a whisper.

He helped her into her stall, where she almost collapsed. Her clothes were
snipped off, while she protested verbally, but was too far gone to do
anything.

'Please! No! Not udders! Not milking!' she shuddered.

Joshua fitted a feeder into her mouth, checking the straps weren't too
tight. She had a short haircut, so it wasn't so difficult.

Grease was massaged into her bottom, and sex until she was relaxed
there too. A large rubber dildo was eased into her vagina, and a smaller
one into her bottom. He pressed a button on the machine, and one then
the other were inflated, to keep them in place.

Small cups were already attached to the machine ready for her. He pulled
them under her, held it in place, then flicked another switch. A gentle
suction held it in place. Then the other was fitted as before. A strap was
tightened around her back, to keep them snug to her breasts.

He stood back to admire his handiwork. It had taken twenty minutes,

which was not a record, but good enough. He was pleased to still be
adept at fitting a woman into her stall, to become a hucow. One of the
herdsman would be around to brand her during the next hourly
inspection. it reminded him to put a message on the computer. This one
wasn't available to the guys for fucking.

He lightly slapped her rear, thinking over how it all started. A local
hospital requested milk that wouldn't cause an allergic reaction. Human
milk was the best, and he'd supplied a few pints. Other hospitals put in
orders which would almost match his dairy herds output. A young farmer
supplied him with docile women, trained to be domesticated, and
plumped up for a good yield. Then a food corporation became involved,
and demand went nationwide. Now he had several hundred hucows in this
shed, and another shed was being built.
He slapped her bottom again, to make sure there wasn't a reaction. She
was still peacefully under the influence of the drug. He wondered how she
would react when it wore off. To some extent she would be brought under
control by the herd. Her boss, Charlie, had requested not to give her a
calming agent once she was fitted in to the stall. As soon as the initial
dose wore off, Jo would be fully aware of where she was, and how
helpless she was.

She would learn to anticipate the regularly induced orgasms, and with the
other hucows joining in, she would enjoy them immensely. From now on,
her life would be controlled by a machine, and even that too would
become natural to her. After a couple of weeks her breasts would expand
in size, and her milk yield would gradually become profitable.

Joshua couldn't hang around, there were things to do. Although

semiretired, he liked to keep an eye on the operation, and the corporation
retainer was a nice addition to his pension. Although wisely saving all his
life, with the fall of banks and investment houses, pensions were the first
to drop through the floor.

Joshua looked around and returned to his office.

***

A lowing sound became louder and louder, in anticipation of a milking

session. Several hundred huwcows knew it was very nearly time. Their
udders were heavy, and ached to be milked. They have been hooked up
to the machine for a long time, and by now thoroughly know its clicks and
timings. As one they moo, glad it is almost time to be relieved of their
milk, and more.
Jo wakes from a drug induced sleep, still a little woozy. Pulling at hands
and feet, she finds it impossible to break free. What in hell is she tied up
to? She is on hands and knees, naked! Some kind of gag is fitted. What
the hell is dragging down her breasts? The feeder prevents much
movement of her head, but she can feel something attached to her
breasts. She wriggles her hips to shake them off, only to find something
else. Oh, my, god! Something is in her bottom and vagina!

Jo tried to shake off the feeder, so as to shout for help. Using inner
muscles to push the intrusions from her sex and anus, did no good. She
swung her breasts around, trying to fling off whatever it was attached to
them. No success at all.

Strapped into a hammock like binding, it is impossible to break free. The

hammock holds her up, on hands and knees. Her wrists and ankles are
secured beneath her. Her breasts hang free through the hammock, where
they are attached to something. Pipes appear from under her, and
disappear into the machine.

Oh! Shit! She's attached to a milking machine! Of course, it should have

been obvious. Why didn't she think of this immediately? This is a dairy
farm, and obviously this is a milking shed. That's why she is here, to
inspect the cows. Now she is in the milking shed, among the cows,
waiting to be milked!

Someone has rigged this contraption up just for her. What are they telling
her, that they think she is a cow? What has she done to them? Surely not
her colleagues, they don't have the balls for it. Some farmhand is in big
trouble, for he doesn't know who he's dealing with.

'I'm not just an inspector, I'm the chief inspector!' she ineffectively
shouted.
To her left is a machine making a low humming sound. That's not what
alerted her, and woke her up. It was the sound of cows mooing, and
growing louder. Almost deafening now, as they became more agitated.
They were anticipating something. Oh! Shit! It was milking time!

Wave upon wave of female smells assault her senses on multi-levels. The
odour is familiar, it is female hormones. They can't be human, as they are
too much, too overpowering.

Nevertheless, her body reacts to them on an animal level. A basic part of

her brain wants to become a part of the group, a part of the herd. Damn!
This is a stupid prank. How dare they do this to her! It is absolutely
outrageous! She will have the operation examined in minute detail, and
closed down.

Hell! She would have to organise the closure herself, for there was no
way her colleagues could possibly learn of this disgusting prank. It would
be humiliating. It is already very humiliating without anyone finding out.
The machines whirring noise was more noticeable, having risen to just
below the mooing sound in volume.

'No! Don't milk me, you can't milk me!' she tried to shout.

It occurred to her that the cows in this shed sound different to most.
There is almost a human tone to the sound. Like a mother pleasing her
child, by making farmyard animal sounds. There it is again, a movement.
She wants to spit out the gag, to shout for help. A larger movement this
time.

'Oh! No!' Jo cried into the feeder.

A gush of fluid invaded her vagina and bottom. She involuntarily urinated.
The machine did that to her somehow. It was now washing her insides by
flooding her, and sucking it out again. A forced enema and a douche were
not expected. The intense feelings left her bereft of energy to fight the
damn machine. She at least worked that out. What came next was hard
to accept.

'No! Stop it!' she cried out.

Throbbing! The damn things were throbbing inside her. Gently, though
slowly increasing in strength and tempo. Oh! God! The animal hormones
had her worked up and ready for this! No! It mustn't happen, not here,
not like this!

Jo began to orgasm. She was on the edge, nearly ready, very close, just
about to reach nirvana, almost there, just a little bit more! A hard thrust
of the large dildos embedded in her vagina, and bottom combined to push
her over the edge.

'Owww! Yes! Yes!' she shouted from around the feeder.

She wasn't the only one. Several hundred hucows climaxed. What she
didn't know, and they did, was that wouldn't be the only orgasm this
session. She shouldn't feel relaxed under the circumstances, but she did.
Or, maybe it was exhaustion. A deep sigh of comfort escaped from around
the feeder. It had been a long time since being in the wonderful state of a
climatic afterglow.

Her breasts were sensitive ordinarily. Now they were especially receptive
to touch. She felt her breasts being gently massaged, and right then it
was wonderful. She was supported by a wide strap, something like a
hammock, holding her in position so she couldn't collapse. With her
breasts being massaged, it felt as though she floated in a salty sea.

Her mind was afloat too. The hormones in the atmosphere had brought
her toward an orgasm, and the machine had pushed her over the edge. It
was dreamy time. A leg trembled from the orgasm, then stopped,
relaxed.

A new sensation started to join the others. She hardly noticed the
vibrators tingling away inside her, keeping her on edge. The soothing
massage of her breasts faded everything else into the background. The
feeder had started with milk chocolate, nutrients, and a yield enhancer.

The new sensation woke her from the far away state. Her nipples. They
were being sucked! Oh! How they were being sucked. They were
sensitive, and tender, but the soft caresses were perfect. So, lovely, so
nice, so energising.

'No! Not again!' Jo shouted.

She tried to wrestle free. Twisting and turning did no good, she was too
enwrapped in the hammock. The manacles bolted to the floor made sure
she was going nowhere.

The dildos vibrated a notch higher, and the cups massaged a notch
higher, and the nipples were sucked harder. Jo was gasping for breath,
chanting a phrase over and over, 'Oh, yes!' she puffed.

Together with more than a hundred other women, she cum. The orgasm
was deep and lasting. It rocked her body. From her stomach, lightening
strikes shot out along her nerves. To her feet, hands, and nipples, an
explosion of sensations sparked. Into the pleasure centre of her brain
shot a message of joy.
Jo screamed that she had cum, and a few others joined in. She collapsed
almost unconscious. Most of the other hucows were used to the machines
wonderful orgasms, and didn't react so verbally. They too were near
collapse, but they had work to do.

They watched their milk pumping up the two tubes. One then the other,
in a steady rhythm, they were efficiently milked according to their yield,
and other factors. The ones longest there had huge breasts hanging
below them. They were held in a sling, something like a massive bra.
There was a channel below them to make room for their enlarged breasts.
Without it the nipples, or at least the rubber cups, would scrape the floor.

Jo awoke to the sound of hucows once more anticipating their milking.

She wasn't ready yet, so the machine went easy on her. Tomorrow she
would be producing milk, though not much. What there was, would give
her delight, watching it pumped up the pipes into the machine. By the
end of the week, her yield would be up significantly, and her breasts
growing fat and milky. Soon she would be able to produce enough milk
for quadruplets, then in time a gallon per session, maybe even more.

'No! Not again! Not my nipples! No!' she softly moaned.

Despite the half hearted protest, she enjoyed her nipples being pulled. It
felt like powerful kisses, and lips sucking them hard. Another double
orgasm rocked her entire body, and brought her thinking into acceptance
of the machines control. Her nipples weren't sore, as ointment was
dribbled onto them. Soon they would be hardened to the work. The
farmhands would monitor her condition, and adjust the machine to her
needs.

The fourth and last milking session of the day began. The herd moaned,
and it turned to a soft lowing sound. Hundreds of hucows filled the shed
with hormones, and sound. The shed was alive with anxious movements
in pens, chewing of treats, mooing, and female hormones filled the air.

'Oh! God! I'm being controlled by a machine! I'm fed, watered, cleaned,
milked, and have induced orgasms, all controlled by a machine. It will
decide how I'm to be milked, and when a herdsman can fuck me,' she
moaned.

Her tune suddenly changed as the machine started in earnest. Feeling her
nipples being sucked, and her entire breasts being massaged had her
ensnared. The big rubber dildos in her vagina and bottom vibrated. She
could no longer think of anything except the inevitable orgasm. There was
no choice, she was brought closer and closer to an enforced orgasm.

A chant started up. 'Oh, yes, milk me,' she repeated over and over again.

Thoroughly exhausted after another multiple orgasm, she watched

mesmerised, her milk pumping up the tubes. One then the other in a
steady rhythm, her milk was being sucked from her breasts. It enhanced
the euphoric feelings of the orgasmic afterglow. In a fuzzy headed state,
she felt relaxed and pleased to be providing her milk to those in need.
She was a contented hucow, feeling domesticated and happy with her
world of milking and orgasms.

With head nodding, she fell asleep for the night. It would be an early
morning call by the machine, preparing her for milking. Every milking
session was preceded by an orgasm, a massage of her breasts to relax
the hucow, and then another orgasm, all to increase yield.

In the middle of the night, she didn't notice a farmhand examining her.
She stirred in her sleep when he adjusted the cups, and nipple suction
tubes. He fingered some grease around both nozzles in her rear.

'There, there, nice cow. Settle down, cow,' a friendly voice spoke.

Andy fingered her anus and vagina to settle her down. He felt over her
body, to ensure nothing was chaffing her skin, and she was in peek
condition. He enjoyed his job. When a hucow was of the right type, he got
to mount her, and breed with her. Those kept from producing a calf, he
could just take her whenever he wanted. This one was reserved, so he
moved on to the next.

Daisy was flagged as available, meaning there was a birth prevention in

her feed. He'd finished the nightly checks so took a break. He uncoupled
the vagina dildo, and massaged her sex with grease. She huffed and
puffed, and turned her head to look at him. She had been there a couple
of years, and so she was now allowed to let go of the feeder. She was a
thoroughly domesticated hucow, so wouldn't call out unsettling messages
to the others. It meant she could pick up treats from a trough.

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. Her thoughts turned to breeding,
and how nice that would be. He was greasing her up, but there was no
need, for his touch was enough. It was a real treat to have a farmhand
fuck her. She couldn't remember when last she had enjoyed this privilege.
It was so exciting, her inner muscles were taught, and her tummy
quivered. She did so want to impress him, so he would return some time
soon. She had to get this right, otherwise he might not bother with her
again.

There were so many hucows to choose from, yet he had chosen to fuck
her! Oh wondrous day!

***
Joshua had assessed the new hucow as being submissive. It hadn't
appeared that way when she turned the first day. Underneath the bluster
she was naturally submissive, and she'd settled down to being controlled
by the milking machine quickly enough. There hadn't been much choice,
as there was no way of escaping the stall, and the machine controlled all
aspects of her life.

Once a week the hucows were brought out of their stall, for them to crawl
around the yard. It was a covered building, out of the weather, with soft
flooring. It gave them a bit of exercise, though they were always in a
hurry to get back to their stall, in case an orgasm was missed.

Three weeks had passed, and she had settled down to the routine, even
though there wasn't a calming agent in her feed. When a herdsman
removed the feeder she gave him a load of abuse, and demanded to be
set free. It was unsettling to receive abuse after the other hucows were
so domesticated. One after another they would be checked, then this one
shouted swear words. It was funny after the initial shock.

'Here she is, nicely settled in,' Joshua showed his friend, Charlie.

Jo looked round to find out what was happening. Any change in the
routine was interesting. A few days ago a herdsman removed her vagina
and ass plugs. He was stroking her rump, murmuring to himself. He was
trying to decide whether to fuck her asshole or vagina. Jo shook her head,
and tried to put him off. It was difficult to move, let alone speak.

In time he realised she was reserved. She didn't know what that meant,
but was hugely relieved. Besides, she was looking forward to a double
orgasm, administered by the machine. It looked after her so well, she felt
a warmth toward it. You can't love a machine, but it could be admired.
'She hasn't had that calming agent, the one you use to keep them docile?'
Charlie asked.

'No, it's fully aware of what has been happening to it,' Joshua reassured
him.

'Charlie!' Jo whimpered into the feeding nozzle.

He here to rescue her! The gate behind her was opened up, and the
nozzles were being removed. She didn't shout or bawl, as it was
embarrassing seeing her boss, or rather, him seeing her like this. The
canvas sling was attached to a set of wheels. She was being wheeled out
of her stall backwards. He was rescuing her!

She was going to punish these men, whether it was a mistake, or a

prank. What kind of mistake was it, for her to end up in a milking stall.
During the first week she had discovered they weren't cows, they were
women being milked. From then on she figured they wanted to keep it a
secret, and had hidden her away for their safety. When rescued, she
would blast their secret across the world.

'My god, they've grown in the last few weeks,' Herbert commented.

Jo realised one of her staff was here. Were they all here to rescue her? It
was embarrassing as hell to be seen naked, but seen attached to that
machine, was horrible.

'We can manage the trolley,' Andrew said.

Philip stared at her enlarged breasts, swinging below the hammock like
harness. There were rings around her breasts where the rubber cups were
attached. The nipples were thick and elongated from being pulled during
milking. The big rubbery nipples were on huge breasts, swinging as they
walked through the milking shed. They were so big they almost scrapped
the floor. It would be difficult for her to stand up, with the weight of
them. Not having stood for awhile, it would be difficult anyway, but with
those huge things it would be impossible.

'Nearly there,' Joshua encouraged.

Jim opened the doors to a darkened room. The low lighting showed
another frame as in the stall, and a machine. It wouldn't be right to
attach her to a strange machine. She thought it would be disloyal.

'This is the breeding room. They are kept here for a special breeding
program. It's to ensure none of the herders get to them,' he laughed.

'I see. Can we watch?' Charlie asked.

Surely there was a mistake here. They were rescuing her, not about to
watch such a diabolical act. Was this all a part of the plan, to get her
away from the farm? At least they had her detached from the machine.
Perhaps while the farm boss was distracted, she would be spirited away to
freedom.

The feeding tube was still in place, and after so long she hardly noticed it.
The dildo's were still in place, though the connecting tubes had been
removed. Now Joshua was attaching a tube to the feeder and other
nozzles, connecting her to the machine.

'Noooo!' Jo shouted from around the feeding tube.

Now the vagina and ass dildo's were being connected. She was caught in
the sling, and still manacled, so struggling was useless. She closed her
eyes not believing the humiliation of what was happening. The members
of her team were gathered round, closely watching her.

'These two nozzles will clean it out, while that one feeds it,' Joshua
explained.

'What about those huge tits,' Jim asked.

'We call them milk sacks. They are still growing, and will be twice as big
when fully grown. They already produce a good quantity of milk. This is
one of the attributes we want to breed into the next generation of
hucows. It gave good milk yield very quickly and it is still rising,' he told
them.

'Jo gives that much milk, amazing,' Andrew said.

Jo felt humiliated, being talked about as though she were nothing but a
domesticated cow. Her own team were joining in the conversation, as
though she were incapable of understanding them. Was she was just a
dumb animal, removed from the herd for breeding?

'Here's the bull now,' Joshua said.

'This is Charlie, and his team. Do you mind giving a demonstration?'

Joshua asked.

'Sure, no problem. It's my job,' he said.

'No! Fuck no! Not here, not now. Not in front of my office team!' Jo
screamed.
He examined the hucow, and stroked its hair. It was new here, and
obviously needed calming down. He was completely naked, like her. She
didn't have to listen to their carnal conversation to know what was
happening. He was a bull, and his massive penis was in her face! Bent
over on hands and knees, she was vulnerable, unable to fight him off. The
feeder was an effective gag, so she couldn't even object.

It was a surprise when he removed the feeder. He had a treat in his hand
and palmed it into her mouth. She chewed the treat, then realised she
was free to speak, and would be heard.

'Help! You can't milk me! You can't breed with me. I'm an important
woman, I'll have you all in jail. Let me GO!' she ranted, and madly swung
her body around.

'Stop that!' the bull fiercely spoke, and slapped her face.

He had to hold her head tight, while Joshua fitted the feeder back into her
mouth. They checked the manacles were tight, and attached to the floor.

They weren't going to listen to a mere hucow. She was no longer a

department manager, she was domesticated livestock, brought here for
breeding. She could no longer make love. That was for humans. She was
to be bred like any other farm animal.

This was it, this was the final humiliation. There was to be no escape to
freedom. She would have to accept this humble position from now on.

She was an it, not an it girl as they used to say, just an it. She was
domestic cattle in a cattle shed, ready for milking in her stall, or ready for
fucking, or whatever the machine decided for her. It had been comforting
not making decisions, and surprisingly she hadn't been bored. The
orgasms and milking broke up the day, despite starting off so early in the
morning.

Connected to the machine once more, she felt comforted. Damn! The
sound of the machine had her automatically becoming wet. She was
opening up for the bull! The guys from her department were commenting
on how wet she was. The bull was massaging her breasts, and pulling
upon her nipples. Almost as well as the machine did.

He was milking her by hand! He was whispering nice words about her into
an ear. Despite her resistance it was all having an effect upon her. She
was calming down, becoming docile like a proper hucow.

'It needs oiling,' the bull said.

Joshua came back from a table loaded with oil.

'Here,' he said, handing the guys a bottle each. 'Rub this in, all over her
body' he told them.

Jo felt the three men from her department fumbling at first. They soon
got into a rhythm. It was terrible. They had been working in her
department, and she had been the boss. Now they were massaging her
naked body with oil. What was terrible was that their hands were
overwhelming her, giving her a different kind of tension. They were
sexing her up!

Her guys were sexing her up for the bull!

'Look how big Jo's clit is, I'd never have thought it,' Andrew told the
others.
'I felt it while I was oiling her,' Jim bragged.

'I concentrated on those huge tits,' someone else said.

He stood behind her, rubbing his hardness between her lips. Up through
outer and inner labia, he then pressed it against her clit. It looked and felt
larger than the rubber dildo usually inside her vagina.

Oh! Noooo! He was going to fuck her in front of her team. It wasn't even
that, she was being bred! Like a domestic animal, she was being bred by
a bull!

He was tall and very muscular. He had a broad chest, and even wider
shoulders. His cock was big and solid, sitting up in front of him, way past
his belly button. The man was well proportioned and looked powerful. His
legs were muscular, looking as though he could thrust powerfully.

His big rough hands gripped her hips. She felt his large sack swing and hit
her pussy. She was frightened. His penis was so large, how can she
possibly take it!

'Nooo, please! I can't take that huge cock! I'll be a good girl, I promise,'
she shouted, to no avail.

It couldn't be resisted. He had her sexually tense, awaiting the inevitable.

Her muscles relaxed, and she opened up, ready for him. The bull gently
pushed. The large bulbous head of his cock stuck for a moment, then
entered her. The feeling of being stretched frightened her. She clamped
down upon his cock, but it was too late, he was in. A slow long push had
his cock deep inside. A further push found him deeper than anything had
ever been. Then he penetrated still deeper!
Her onetime team looked at her, not understanding what she was saying.
Is she complaining, or is she asking for it? It is difficult to tell how well
she has succumbed to being a hucow. They worried for her, seeing how
big the bulls cock is.

'How can Jo take such a big cock?' one of them asked.

'Jo seems to be enjoying the breeding session,' Jim said.

'She must be, as she's pushing back on him,' Andrew said.

'Breeding improves the yield and will settle it down into the routine. It's a
good experiment, to see if we need to administer calming agents in their
feed,' Joshua commented. 'It will be bred every day now, until pregnant,'
he added.

The men from her team were making comments about how the bull was
fucking her, and how she was responding to him. It was a show, not a
private love making session. She didn't even know the bulls name. This
was how it was going to be from now on. A bull would grease her sex,
and simply take her whenever he felt like it.

'Oh! God! Not now! Not in front of colleagues!' she whined.

Her orgasm rocked her body from side to side in the sling. She'd been
rocked back and forth while he thrust into her, and now she was moaning
and groaning from an enforced orgasm.

'You see how much more milk she is producing?' Joshua pointed out.

The others were too interested in her being bred, and how powerful the
bull was, to notice her being milked.
A master enrolls his slave

'The drug stimulates the production of prolactin, so you will lactate all the
time. It's painless, so don't worry. There is a side effect, and that is, your
bust size will increase,' Jerald said, with his usual relaxed smile.

'Will the corporation really pay off all my debts. I inherited them from my
parents, and will never be able to pay them off in my life time. Under the
new laws, if I have children they will inherit the debt. It's just so awful,'
Elizabeth sighed.

'There are a lot of people in your position. The global economic collapse
ruined a lot of families, and individuals. We get a lot of volunteers with
the same problem. You do know you have to sign a contract binding you
to the corporation? Good, just so long as you know what you are getting
into,' he smiled.

'What about accommodation, do I have to find something close by?' she

asked.

'We provide accommodation, food, health insurance, and everything you

could possibly want,' he said.

'Wow! That's great. What's the catch?' she asked, and nervously laughed.

'That depends on your point of view. Accommodation and medical

insurance are valuable items. You know what the price of food is like
these days. Only the best is provided, as it effects the quality of the milk.
As to a catch, well, you have to sign up for a year or forfeit the debt
payment, and have to pay back the training expenses. After a year, you
don't have to pay back the expenses, and after three years your debts are
paid,' he explained.
'That sounds a bit harsh,' she ventured.

'It's to protect the corporation. A lot of training, and preparation goes into
every volunteer. Expensive processes and personnel are involved for
some time, before you start paying back on that investment. You have to
produce a lot of milk to just pay back the initial expenses,' he pointed out.

'Oh! Well, yes, I guess so,' Elizabeth said, and shrugged.

Jerald looked at the petite dark haired beauty. It was true, there were
drawbacks. What they were was different for each volunteer. It depended
what they wanted out of life. A drawback for one person was a positive
bonus to another.

Like a lot of volunteers she was desperate. Passing the medical, meant
that all it took was for her to sign the documentation, and she'd belong to
the corporation. Not that he put it that way to any of them. It was true
what he said, that all their debts would be paid, but they would belong to
the corporation a lot longer than three years. After a few months
experience as a hucow, there was no going back. It was partly an
addiction, as well as a habit, and a physical inability to leave.

Some were bought at government auctions. They really were owned by

the corporation, so they would spend the rest of their lives producing
milk. If they turned out to be good milkers, they would be bred to
produce high quality calves.

A picture of Joshua, the founder of their enterprise, was on the wall of

Jerald's office. The corporation bought Joshua out, but he was kept on for
his experience for another year. He retired last year, which was just as
well, as he wouldn't have liked the new methods they employed. The
machinery was much the same, but recruitment had changed.

They still got innocent volunteers like Elizabeth, and as usual they were
misinformed as to what was involved, just as in Joshua's day. Recently
slaves were bought at government auctions, as the milk market had
grown so much, though Joshua wouldn't have approved. The dairy farm
was public knowledge, and instead of being closed down, the corporation
used the publicity to sell the hucow milk to a wider customer base.

The publicity also brought in a special sort of woman to join the herd.
Women who wanted to be hucows, knowing something of what was
involved. They didn't have debts, and some of them were bored rich
women. Most of them were unprepared for the intensity of being a hucow,
and were subsumed into the role, unable to break free.

They were warned of the side effects but they thought they knew better,
and were shocked to have such large unwieldy breasts. They also
underestimated how quickly they would become addicted to the milking
process. Sometimes it was too late to get free of the intense life in a stall,
and they couldn't go back to their ordinary lives, and so they stayed.

A few were brought there by a husband, or what they called, a master.

These women had no choice, they obeyed their master, and settled down
to becoming a hucow.

***

Elizabeth returned next morning, ready to be measured and sized to fit a

milking machine. She was surprised to see so many women in the barn.
Calling it a barn was an understatement, as it was a highly efficient
milking parlour.
'I'll leave you to get undressed,' Megan said. 'Don't worry, I'll look after
you. There's no pain, not even enough to make a man flinch,' she
laughed.

Elizabeth tried to laugh along, but found her throat was dry. She tried to
relax, and do as she was told. A stall with tubes everywhere, wasn't
expected. Once undressed, she squatted on the floor, then got on hands
and knees as instructed. The floor was very clean, and soft. There was
under-floor heating, which made it feel pleasant.

Megan explained this was the best position for milking, and that made
sense. Her small breasts hung below her, and felt comfortable, even when
she swung them in circles. Hearing the woman return, she stopped
playing around. It was an embarrassing position to be in, facing way from
the trainer, showing off her ass and everything else.

Her bottom and private parts were on view, and a farmhand could walk
by at any moment. It would be so embarrassing, she might get up and
run away. Being naked, and having no money, would make things
awkward. A cab to the nearest government auction house might be
possible. They could add the cab fare to her debts.

Again, she reminded herself this couldn't possibly be as bad as being

auctioned as a slave. Not knowing who would buy her, and what kind of
person she would be serving, was a horrendous thought. She'd heard
there weren't enough inspectors, so the slave owners could get away with
anything.

No! Her decision had been made. She was to be what the media called a
hucow. A human cow, producing milk for hospitals, and those with an
allergy to cow's milk. She would be doing the community a great service.
The brochure still showed the earlier markets for their milk, and it made
the whole process seem worthwhile. As the efficiency rose, the costs
decreased, until it was cheaper to supply human milk, instead of cow's
milk. The corporation was quick to take advantage of the situation. More
and more women were needed to supply milk, and they were
forthcoming. One way or another.

'To keep the milk sterile, and free of impurities, I need to keep you clean,
and the feeder clean. We'll just try a feeder for the moment, to ensure it's
comfortable for you. Until you get used to the stall, I need to secure you
in place. Don't worry, these will soon come off. Until then you'll need the
bathroom tubes connected,' Megan explained.

A nozzle connected to a tube was fitted into Elizabeth's mouth, and she
began to suck. A wonderful tasting liquid was drawn out of it.

'Mmm' Elizabeth grinned.

'Yes! It's chocolate milk! Only the best food for our milkers, and the best
for you now,' Megan cheerily said.

She forgot all about the mention of restroom tubes. The chocolate was as
gorgeous as people said. Not many could remember what it tasted like, as
it was strictly rationed, and very expensive. Here she was getting a good
ration of it, for nothing! She hadn't produced milk yet, or done anything
to earn her keep. This was wonderful, after not being able to afford
breakfast.

Megan adjusted the machine to give the new hucow a large dose of
prolactin. Other drugs were added and balanced, to enhance her
lactation, though so far they were in very small doses. They didn't use
calming drugs any more, as they weren't needed. Not with volunteers, or
slaves.

Megan looked across the new milking barn at the herd. The old herd were
mostly brought in after being given calming drugs. They weren't
volunteers, they had been either seduced into being hucows, or forced. It
was too late now to set them free.

After being kept in captivity for a few years, they were thoroughly
domesticated hucows. They could no longer stand up, as their breasts
were so huge. Also, they were too used to being on their hands and
knees. They were also dependent upon the machine. Being milked, fed,
watered, cleaned, and with induced orgasms, they had become
completely dependent on it. They would violently kick-off if disconnected.

This one would soon become dependent like them. So there had been no
real difference over the years, with just a few improvements to their
methods of recruitment.

Reaching under the girl, she squeezed rubber nozzles onto her nipples.
They were small at the moment, but would soon be large enough for the
machine to draw large quantities of milk through them. Rubber cups were
slipped up the tubes, and pushed over the girl's breasts. These would
suck on her breasts to sooth her into producing more milk.

At the keyboard that controlled the stall, Megan switched the pleasure
function on, so it would kick in with the other functions. Most would be
milked, but this one would be given a massage, with the cups mildly
sucking on her breasts, and nipples. Elizabeth moaned through the
feeder, as a tube was inserted into her bottom.

'Don't worry, girl, this is to clean you out. A gentle enema, that's all,' the
woman lied.
It was true, but she lied by omission. The rubber nozzle would expand, so
it couldn't be expelled. It would also serve as a pleasure tool. It would
expand inside her, and would tremble the walls of her anus, in time with
the milking process.

Another similar but smaller nozzle was inserted into her vagina. The girl
looked around with fear in her eyes. Her hands were flexing, trying to
reach behind her, only they had been secured. Her knees had also been
secured, to hold her down on all fours in the stall.

'Don't worry! This is to give you a douche. It will clean you, before we
start the process,' she smoothly lied.

The large dildo would be left inside her vagina, and synchronised with the
one in her ass, and the milking cups. The whole process would give her so
much pleasure, she wouldn't care what was done to her. In six months
time, she would have huge breasts being milked six times in every
twenty-four hours. It wouldn't take long for her to become so dependent
upon the machine, she would be in this stall forever.

Megan pretended to listen to the girl's garbled complaints, and tried to

allay the girl's fears.

'Don't worry, I'll be back in a moment, to take everything out. I need to

know if they fit alright, and that only takes a little while,' she said, and
patted the girl's bare ass.

Walking away produced more distorted words of protest. Megan stopped,

to see her timing had been just right. The sound of mooing reverberated
throughout the shed. The new girl must have heard it, for she stopped
spluttering complaints from around the feeder nozzle. The hucows had
heard the hum of servos starting up. As one they were anticipating the
milking session, and all that it meant.

Megan was fascinated. She was warned not to hang around when it was
due to start up. After all, she was a woman like these hucows had once
been. The heightened sounds of domestic beasts, anticipating the next
milking session, was powerful. The girl would become overawed by it
soon.

A protein and nutrient rich feed was produced in the nozzles. For those
thoroughly domesticated, they could spit out the feeder, and lean forward
into the trough for a piece of chocolate. That wasn't what they were
anticipating.

First there was a light tingling to the breasts, with it getting more vibrant.
After a second the nipples were teased. Then the breasts were sucked,
and released, repeatedly. A split second later the nipples were sucked,
and released, repeatedly. It was a gentle process, meant for pleasure as
well as profit.

The hucows breasts had become large and full of milk over the last four
hours. They were tight, and needed milking. The gentle teasing
vibrations, and powerful sucking, eased tension in the breasts. Then the
real pulling and sucking, started on nipples and breasts. The hucows
mooed heavily and loudly.

Milk began to flow, easing the discomfort. From the beginning it was
pleasurable, and continued to be so. The very act of giving milk was a
pleasure. The sucking on their teats, and the big plump breasts, was
bliss. Hucows in their own time and place, closed their eyes and mooed.
The individual voices and timing blended into a constant lowing.
The sound of domestic bliss ranged through the milking parlour, filling the
building with a deep vibrant sound. The hucows were domesticated, and
so very happy with their position. They didn't need more than this. Life
was perfect, though there was more. Halfway through the milking
process, another vibration started up. The machine was programmed to
give yet more pleasure.

The dildo in the girl's vagina began to tingle then throb. It seemed to
have a will of its own, as though it were alive, with a determined
throbbing inside, filling her vagina. The nozzle had expanded to stretch
her, until it filled her vagina, touching, rubbing everywhere. It was
vibrating against the walls of her vagina in places that had never before
been touched.

The new girl was moved to tears. For some unknown reason, she joined
in the hucow sounds of pleasure. Mooing and lowing with the rest of
them. When the anal dildo began to vibrate she yelped in surprise. The
rest of the machines artful, and induced pleasure sensations, kept her
mind off the unusual feeling in an off-limits place. All sensations became
pleasurable, and would soon become needed. Being hooked up to a
pleasure machine was unexpected, but she was hooked.

If she had the awareness to think straight, it would be realised this was
all done to increase her yield. It would continue when she was giving
milk, and until then all she had to do, was enjoy it.

An orgasm crept over the hucows, and swept the new girl along with it.
The sounds and smells of so many women having an orgasm, was
overpowering.

Megan should have left the barn. She clutched her breasts and squeezed.
On hands and knees, she joined in the group orgasm. As though it were
an orgy, she lifted her head and mooed. It wasn't over for all the hucows.
As they were giving the last of their milk, some would have a second
orgasm.

Not Megan, as she had to get up and continue with her duties. Another
new recruit was due in, though this one would be easier to handle.
Margaret, that was her name, if she wasn't mistaken.

Megan pushed at her large breasts, making them fit into the bra. She'd
been warned they would respond from working with the hucows. So far
they had grown three bra sizes, and her husband loved it. Sometimes she
wondered if the guys had been giving her small doses of the lactating
drug.

Of course, the hucows had massive breasts, touching the ground under
them if they weren't in a sling. A bra was out of the question, as no one
made such a large garment. As the breasts grew, a board was removed
from the centre of the stall. It gave them room to dangle in the sling.
Great big udders swung underneath the hucows while they were milked.
It was fascinating to watch.

Frank, her husband, had been curious so she smuggled him in one
weekend, to show him her work. He was fascinated as most people were.
Especially seeing naked women from the rear, while they were ass up.
She made the mistake of letting him stroke one of the hucows breasts. It
was weird seeing her husband stroking another woman's breasts, then
her rear. She stopped him going further, as that would be too much to
bear. Taking a firm hold of his arm, she led him out of the barn.

He later suggested she should be a hucow for just a weekend, or maybe a

whole week. Telling him she might become addicted to the machine did
no good, as he didn't understand, or didn't want to.
The thought of it was both fascinating and terrifying. There were women
that had been in stalls for years. They were still giving milk, but their
minds had given up trying to hold onto a human identity. They were
thoroughly domesticated cattle, no longer human, they were true hucows.

Frank told her he wanted to take her while she was helpless in a stall.
Again that fascinated her, as she had watched the hucows being mated.
The bull would arrive and the hucow would become obviously excited.
Eager to be mated, they would thrash around in the pen, desperate for a
fucking by a big powerful bull.

It would be interesting to experience being mated, while helpless in a

stall. It would be easy to smuggle her husband in, and she could show
him how to secure her. What if he wanted to attach those nozzles to her
body? Her breasts were already enlarged, but nothing like the enormous
size of a hucow.

What if he had to hide from a farmhand? One of the young guys might
find her, and not realise she was a co-worker. The guy might take her,
while her husband hid out of the way. One of her colleagues would be
fucking her in front of her husband! How would he deal with that?

He might storm of in a temper, leaving her there in disgust, then not be

able to get back in to the shed. She might not be discovered for awhile,
all the time her breasts would be growing larger and larger. They might
think that is what she wanted, to be a hucow in a stall. There would be no
going back then, she would become dependent upon the machine, not
wanting to be set free.

Megan imagined having climatic orgasms throughout the day and night.
She began to perspire, and was a little giddy.
In the cool air outside the shed, Megan came around from the influence of
the herd. She shuddered at the thought of becoming a humble hucow.
The guys had free access to them, unless they were being bred by a stud.
Not knowing who it was fucking her would be exciting, as well as
frightening.

In the office she sat down, and Frank made her a coffee.

'You okay, Megan?' Frank asked.

'Yea, sure. I shouldn't have been in there when they started up,' she
hollowly laughed.

'Yea, well you've been told. I could always fix you up, if you change your
mind,' he seriously spoke.

'No way! I know why you want me in a stall, you dirty bastard. There's a
thousand women in there, aren't they enough?' she said.

He laughed, and she joined in.

***

Margaret was delivered by a smart looking man in an expensive suit. The

auto-vehicle was ordinary enough, so his worth couldn't be gauged by
that. It was his powerful presence that affected Megan the most. He
spoke with authority and said little.

Megan led the nervous looking woman to the reception area. She too was
dressed in expensive clothes, and neither did she talk much. Looking
through the documentation, Megan noted there were instructions as to
her treatment. The documentation was a lot different from the basic
paperwork for Elizabeth.

Margaret wasn't in debt, which meant the smart looking woman was
either from a wealthy family, or she made money in one of the reserved
occupations. A job that was in demand and therefore highly paid. The
dress she wore was worth more than Megan's monthly salary.

'This way. There's no point in convincing you to stay. Your, err, whatever
he is left instructions,' Megan said.

'You mean my master,' Margaret said.

'Whatever. Did he buy that dress for you?' Megan asked.

'No. If you mean, am I a registered slave, the answer is no. I'm a wealthy
woman, inherited. I chose to be his sex slave. At least I think I did. He is
very convincing, and powerful. I guess this time away from him will help
me decide, whether to stay or leave him. While in his home, I don't have
a chance to decide anything. He's too mentally strong and forceful to
break away from,' the woman said.

'You know what to expect then?' Megan asked.

'Not really, he didn't tell me much. Just that I am to be a hucow for a

couple of weeks. It seems to have become popular recently,' the woman
sighed.

It wasn't for Megan to warn her about what she was getting into, it was
her own responsibility to find out first. Besides, a couple of weeks
wouldn't hurt. The expensive silk dress wouldn't fit, and she wondered
what the woman would say about that. Nothing probably, as the expense
wouldn't bother her.

How would she react over the increase in her bust size. After only two
weeks in a stall they wouldn't be massive like the hucows. It would take
more than four weeks for them to start becoming large enough to be a
physical problem. After that growth was rapid, and the breasts had to be
oiled, massaged, and held in a sling.

Maximum growth would be reached in week twelve or so, depending upon

the woman. Well before then, the hole in the floor had to be revealed to
make room for the inflated breasts, otherwise they would be dragging on
the floor. Also, room for the milking nozzles was needed.

Modifications to this woman weren't clearly defined in the specifications. If

she was only in a stall for a couple of weeks, she wouldn't look
outrageous. Margaret would just have to get used to being a big breasted
woman. At first they would get in the way, and playing pool would be out
of the question.

Megan chuckled to herself. It would be difficult for her to play pool the
way her own breasts had grown, and she had never been fed chemicals in
a stall. Like anyone, Margaret might be frightened to know she would be
in a stall for the whole two weeks.

'Here we are. I'll put you into a stall, as I need to see if everything fits
right. It will need adjusting for your size,' Megan explained.

The woman had no problem undressing, and getting on her hands and
knees as instructed. The woman had been told to obey the farmhands, as
though it were her master's instructions. How long that would last, when
she found out the truth of what was to happen.
The pipes were lengthened and nozzles adjusted. The machine would
have to be configured with her particular program of milking. It would be
gentle at first, until she was able to give milk. Then the milking process
would be upped until her yield limit was reached.

'Err, excuse me, girl. What are these, err, rubber things?' Margaret asked,
sounding worried.

'This is your feeder. While in here being milked you will need to be fed.
It's a well balanced feed of nutrients and everything you need for
sustenance. As a treat you will receive a chocolate drink,' Megan
explained.

Of course the woman wasn't very impressed, as she was one of the few
who could afford chocolate. It was true, at first chocolate was fed to the
new women. How old was this woman to be calling her a girl? It was
obviously an imperious behaviour she was resorting too, from being
frightened.

'Those other things, what are they for?' she asked, sounding upset at the
sight of them.

Megan usually kept them out of sight, and letting her see them, might
have been on purpose. Even though the woman was obeying her, the way
she walked, and talked, couldn't disguise her condescension for staff at
the farm.

'I'll just fit the milking suckers to your breasts. I need to make sure they
don't chaff,' Megan reassured.

'What are you doing now, girl?' the woman said, raising her voice, no
longer pretending to be submissive.
Megan secured the woman's wrists and knees to the floor. Under her was
a soft padding for comfort, easily washed and kept hygienic.

'Only my master can bind me!' she complained.

'Don't worry, it's to keep you from moving around. I need to measure
everything, so keep still,' Megan insisted.

'Well, I didn't expect to be treated like this!' she continued to complain,

but continued to do as she was told.

Megan pulled a small soft rubber suction cup up the tube, and secured it
to a nipple. A little squeeze held it in place. A larger cup fitted over the
breast, and again a squeeze held it to the breast by suction. The other
breast was treated the same. Megan was pleased to find both breasts
were the same size, as some were not. It made it difficult finding a
matching pair of cups to fit.

The woman had gone quiet while Megan fiddled with her breasts. They
were small at the moment, and Megan again wondered how she would
react after two weeks of growth. She was thinking of upping the dose
from the start. Seeing the svelte woman trying to cope with large breasts
in two weeks time, would be interesting, maybe even amusing.

Fitting the feeder would at least keep her quiet, while she swallowed the
chemicals. No longer using soporifics meant they had to be more gentle
with the new hucows, but the lack of calming agents benefited the yield.

Now for the most intimate fitting.

'This is to keep you clean, while in the stall. It's standard practice, and
your master ordered this, so no complaining,' Megan firmly said, hoping
for an easy time.

Greasing the woman's asshole, then inside, wasn't her most enjoyable
part of the job. Some of the guys enjoyed it too much, though they were
here to look after the domesticated hucows. The hucows didn't complain
over whatever the guys did.

New recruits would complain, and that's why Megan was here. She dealt
reassuringly with the new hucows, allaying their fears until it was too late,
and they no longer complained about anything.

The woman turned her head to look at Megan, with eyes wide in surprise.
She knew what was about to happen and protested. Realising nothing of
sense got past the big rubber feeder in her mouth, she tried to shake it
off. That's why Megan secured her limbs to the floor, before fitting
anything.

The woman bellowed a loud protest, when Megan shoved the black rubber
nozzle into her ass. The woman obviously hadn't given her ass to her
master. After this, he could bugger her without hurting his slave. After
two weeks her ass would be ready for anything.

It wouldn't matter how big his penis was, she would be able to take it.
When a hucow fidgeted, wanting to be mated, a bull would sometimes
slide into the wrong hole without noticing, and they had very big cocks.
They had been selected for their length, girth, and especially for the
quantity of their semen. Of course, their cum needed to contain an above
average sperm count, and it was important they were from a strong
stock.

Easing the rubber dildo into her vagina, the woman didn't object this
time. She raised her head and sighed. Looking back at her, Megan
thought she had a wistful look on her face.

'These are used to clean you out. We can't afford an infection getting into
the milk,' Megan explained.

All that was needed now was to set the program for this stall. The mixture
of drugs, and the intensity of the various devices had to be set for a new
hucow. Keeping in mind what was safe, and the effect it would all have on
the woman, she punched in the program suited to a new hucow.

The woman didn't know what her master had ordered, by means of the
instruction sheet. Stretching her anus would soon be achieved over time,
when the rubber dildo expanded to its full extent. The vagina one would
remain small, but big enough to excite her.

Her breasts would be enlarged over the two weeks, but how big wasn't
specified. Normally they were induced to a relatively normal, double 'D',
size. Megan smiled to herself.

'Let see how you cope with triple, 'D', breasts, snotty woman,' she quietly
said.

She would find it difficult to find a designer dress to fit those beauties. It
would take a lot of engineering to fit a bra around them. Elizabeth was in
for several months at least, so her breasts would be off the scale. If this
rich bitch thought she was getting away with just a bit of fun, without the
penalties, she was mistaken.

Megan had second thoughts, as after all, she was a sister, another
woman, being manipulated by a man. The machine started up, with a low
hum throughout the shed. She hesitated for a moment, then decided she
had to leave. Being subjected to a mass orgasm for a second time today,
would be too much.

Dashing out of the shed, she ran into Jim.

'Careful, Megan! Where you running off to?' he said.

'Nowhere, I just didn't want to be in there, that's all,' she replied.

'Why? What's wrong? I'm on shift, nothing to deal with is there?' he

worriedly asked.

'No don't worry, no nasty mess, so you won't have to work hard,' she
laughed. 'I didn't want to be in there while they had an orgasm. It's noisy
for you, but I'm a woman, it effects me. All those women having an
orgasm is pretty powerful. They are putting out a lot of hormones, so I
could get carried away,' she admitted.

'Don't worry Megan, I'd look after you. A quick hook up, naked in a stall,
and you'd be well looked after with me behind you,' he laughed.

'Why didn't you tell me that before, I would have stayed. Come on, it's
not too late,' she joked.

'It's no joke, I've noticed your breasts,' he warned her, then nervously
laughed.

'The guys haven't been putting something in my tea have they?' she
seriously asked.

'No! Of course not, they wouldn't do that!' he protested. 'Especially not to

you, you'd hit them!' he chuckled.
'That's true, I'd lay them out. What about you? You're subject to all those
women's hormones in the atmosphere. You'll be growing breasts, and
bending over in front of the bulls,' she quipped.

'Don't Megan, this is the beginning of my shift!' he protested.

'I've got just one more to hook up, and I'm out of here,' she grimaced.

Ch. 07

Bulls breeding a hucow

After a few days living in a milking stall, Margaret worried that she might
have been abandoned by Mathew, her boyfriend and master. He'd sent
her for hucow training which she agreed to because he was her master,
and had to be obeyed. As soon as she got to the farm, she was attached
to a milking machine, which meant she couldn't just walk away. If she'd
known it was going to be this intense, she wouldn't have dared agree to
it, even if it meant disobeying her master.

Margaret had innocently walked into the trap, not realising what was
involved.

After having the run of a large mansion house, where she had grown up,
it was a huge drop in circumstances to be housed in a milking stall. There
were over a thousand women here, being milked in stalls. Margaret
wasn't used to being one of the herd, as she had grown up as an
individual, in a wealthy family.

A few months ago she met a man like her father, with a strong
dominating personality. She got to know him well, or rather, he got to
know her. He moved in, and began taking over her life, until she gave in,
and let him make all the decisions for her.

Her deference became more deeply felt, until it became easy for her to
submit to him, and start calling him master. He only wanted the best for
her, and so she let him run her home, and her life.

One day he decided she should go for training as a hucow. Not knowing
what the commitment was, it was easy to agree. Learning a new skill and
a way of life, seemed exciting. Anything to please him was her mental
attitude, and so here she was, wondering if he would ever collect her.

What was he doing with her home, the servants, and her money?

Dreaming of home, she wondered how her servants were faring while she
was away. Margaret was very specific in her orders, and demanded they
be carried out to the letter. Although some thought she was a tyrant, she
was fair with everyone who worked for her, treating them with equal
civility and demanding respect in return.

They would be very surprised to see the mistress of the house in such an
abject state.

Though her new home was small, the stall was very clean, and so was
she. An enema and a douche once a day kept her internally clean, which
was necessary for a milk product being sent to hospitals. She understood
and accepted that.

What she didn't understand was why she and the others, were being
given so many orgasms a day. Not that she was complaining, because
they were tremendously powerful, and so very satisfying.
She dozed for a moment from the pleasant thoughts, and anticipation of
the next orgasm. Being trapped here wasn't a great hardship, and she
was getting used to it.

Just before she and all the other hucows were to be milked, the machine
started up. In each stall was a computer control, which was programmed
specifically for her. It was still adding drugs to her food to enlarge her
breasts, increase milk production, and keep her healthy. The feeder was
permanently inserted into her mouth, to make sure she swallowed all the
additives.

She didn't receive a calming agent as she had arrived as a volunteer.

Slaves and recruits were given a calming agent, as they tended to panic
when facing the reality of living the rest of their lives in a milking stall.
Another reason to leave the feeding tube in place, was to suppress
shouting and screaming of new hucows.

Margaret didn't shout obscenities at the staff, as she was a well brought
up young lady. Though, she was beginning to have a fearful feeling about
the place. Spending the rest of her life here wouldn't be so bad for some
people, but she had a good life out there in the world.

Margaret's breasts weren't fully developed yet, though they had grown to
twice the size since entering the stall. Later today she would be hosed
down with warm water, which she enjoyed. Some days were missed, as
there weren't enough herdsmen to cope with so many hucows.

***

In the background was a whining sound of pumps winding up to speed.

This triggered a lowing noise in the milking shed, as the hucows needed
to be milked, and they anticipated the sensuous pleasures it brought.

The hum of the distant pumps grew louder then changed gear, as they
were about to be brought on line. The lowing, mooing, and other bovine
sounds got to Margaret, as they did to all the hucows. If they didn't have
a fixed feeding tube, they stopped chomping on chocolates and other
treats, in the trough before them.

Their heads went up, and they all added to the noise which sounded
almost human. A thousand hucows becoming excited was a tremendous
sound, almost musical. It was a female sound and no woman could resist
joining in. The chemical rush in their bodies from anticipating what was to
come, was overwhelming, as it was shared by all.

Female pheromones hung heavily in the air, bathing them all in a cloud,
triggering arousal in them all. A thousand females nearing an emotional
moment, couldn't be resisted. Megan, one of the farm hands, kept clear
of the barn, not being in the mood to be overwhelmed by hucow feelings.

A slight vibration reached into Margaret's stall and held her quiet. The
computer wasn't programmed to milk her as much as the others, as she
wasn't fully developed yet. When her breasts became udders, hanging to
the floor below her, the yield would trigger a full and long milking session.

The vibration reached her breasts and immediately became a sucking

sensation. It gently pumped her breasts, sucking on them, in and out, in
a constant rhythm. The large cups holding her enlarged breasts, pulsed
pleasantly. For a minute that is all that happened. The anticipation was
heavy in the air and the hucows gave out a long low moan.

Then the machine switched on another tube, an inner one attached to her
nipples. It began to suck on Margaret's nipples, elongating them. They
had been fattened up with her breasts by the additives in her feed. Within
seconds she began lactating, and saw her milk travelling up the clear
tubes into the machine. Relentlessly it sucked her nipples like a new born,
though it was her who was new to this.

Margaret was fascinated to see her milk being drawn up the tube, into the
machine for processing. Connected to the barn was a dairy where her
milk would be heated and pasteurized.

She closed her eyes, imagining feeding twins, both of them sucking on
her teats in a steady rhythm. Her teats had been elongated and fattened
by the machine, and would continue to grow with her already large
breasts.

She'd worked out the grid under her would be lifted, to allow her breasts
to swing under her like udders, as she became a fully matured hucow.
That meant they would be huge, perhaps too big to lift for walking, or
even standing upright. Becoming a fully domesticated milking animal, a
hucow, wasn't so bad at that moment, as she anticipated the next stage
of her milking session.

A few minutes passed, and another tube started up, sucking and stopping
and sucking again, at her vagina. The motion was a natural fucking
sensation deep inside her vagina. Unnaturally, it was the same sensation
in her anus. Getting used to it, she found the sensitivity pleasant. It
added to the sensations in her vagina, as that device sucked and vibrated
inside her.

She needn't hold back, and so let go of her human sensibilities, to go with
the wonderful sensations like the domesticated animal she was becoming.
An emotional orgasm suddenly hit her, as it always did. She could tell
that the girl in the next cubicle had a completely different orgasm. The
girl shouted and screamed obscenities, yet obviously enjoyed the orgasms
immensely.

Margaret groaned and moaned unintelligible sounds around the feeder in

her mouth.

'Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!' she recited over and over as though giving birth.

Having her breasts massaged, her nipples firmly pulled, giving milk, the
device in her bottom throbbing, and the device filling her vagina pulsing,
combined to overwhelm her senses. She cum! She lifted her head,
hearing several hundred hucows also climaxing, and she couldn't help
joining them in a satisfying, deeply moving, orgasm.

Her legs went into a spasm as nervous electric shocks rocked through her
mind, flashing like lightening, and returning to excite more so. Another
group in the herd near to her, set off on their climax, and they took her
along for a second ride to nirvana.

She'd never had so many orgasms. Four times a day she would be forced
to orgasm, though in the last couple of days she didn't look at it that way.
Like the others, she joined in anticipating the milking and the machine
induced, intense orgasms.

Margaret understood she was becoming addicted to the machine, and

wondered how long it would take to be completely dependent upon it.

***

A couple of weeks passed, when Margaret had just experienced the usual
afternoon orgasm, and like the others she was ready to snooze. They
weren't human, they were hucows, and she was beginning to think of
herself in the same way. With the others she would be milked and share
in the their orgasms. That made her a part of the herd, one of them, a
domesticated animal, and a hucow.

Raising her head to see what the fuss was about, did no good, as she was
facing a feeding trough. Her ass end was at the corridor the humans
used. The farm hands came by inspecting her once a day, and gave her a
hose down, as one of them had before the last milking session.

Feeling a slap to her rump, she tried to look round to see who it was, and
what they were doing. A vet had arrived to examine the developing
hucows, including Margaret, who was first on his list.

***

The vet detached a cup on her breast, and squeezed the nipple to test
how sensitive it had become. After being thoroughly milked nothing is
pulled from the swollen teat. Like her breasts the nipples have expanded
to a very large size. They have also been elongated from being sucked by
the machine several times a day.

'Examining its breasts for lumps is important. Do you have enough

herdsman to do this once a week for the whole herd? Well, try it at least
once a month, like this.' the vet demonstrated.

He pushed two fingers into the soft flesh, probing the breast all over. At
this she mooed at the intimate intrusion, which wouldn't seem so bad
when he continued with the rest of the examination. The cup was eased
into place, and the other one removed, for a further examination.

'These are developing well,' Charlie commented, while weighing one

breast in his hand.
Margaret didn't know who the man was but he was being far too personal
with her body. It no longer seemed like hers as it had been altered so
much, with large breasts, and those other devices built into her body, so
it appeared she was a part of a machine, which now controlled every
aspect of her life.

It's mouth was examined next, to ensure the hucow had no sores from
the rubber feeder.

'It hasn't complained, so I recommend the feeder can be optional now,

rather than fixed in place,' the vet said.

The anus probe had a light built in to the instrument, giving him a good
view inside her bottom.

'No harm has occurred from the rubber insert, so it can be replaced,' he
said.

Her vagina was next. The vet unwrapped a couple of speculums, and
selected a retractor, large size. A colposcope was prepared as well as a
Veda-scope, with a camera attached. Once clamped open, her vagina was
viewed by the vet and farm hands.

Margaret felt the instruments stretching her inside, and going deep into
her body. It felt awful, but she understood it had to be done. It would
have been more tolerable if the vet was female, and there weren't two
farmhands watching.

'This one needs to exercise its inner muscles, especially the pelvic floor. It
has become used to the large rubber dildo permanently inserted. If you
are going to use it for breeding, its vagina needs reducing in size, for a
better grip on the bull,' he told them.

The vet looked up her registration number, and prepared another

instrument, by slotting in the necessary numbers and letters. The
characters, F21C1237, were fitted into a slot, and a small amount of black
ink poured into a reservoir.

Margaret felt a sharp sting on the soft cheeks of her bottom, and looked
around, with large staring eyes. This time she mooed, and shook her head
in a bovine complaint.

'They always look like that. Doleful, large sorrowful eyes, looking as
though they've been wounded, and you are the cause,' Frederick stated.
'The branding doesn't hurt, not much, and anyway, it's necessary to keep
track of the cattle. If you transport it to another farm you will need to fill
in the appropriate paperwork, online of course,' the vet commented.

'No problem. What about inseminating it. Do you recommend artificial, or

a bull?' Joe asked.

'You've got some big healthy bulls here, so use them. The natural way is
always best,' the vet advised.

Margaret wondered if they were talking about her. Surely not, her master
wouldn't allow a stranger to breed her, would he? Something needed to
be said, but she hadn't spoken for several weeks, and was in a panic over
what to say. Before she could interrupt them, they were enlightening her
as to her status, which she carefully listened to.

'Is it a slave, or volunteer?' the vet asked.

'A volunteer,' Joe answered.

'Then its registered as a slave now. That's the new law, all hucows are
slaves. Yes, here it is, the hucow registration code is also a slave
registration code,' he said. 'That means you can do whatever you want
with it. The milk marketing board inspects your farm already, and this
applies to volunteers as well, as there is no longer a difference,' the vet
lectured.

Joe knew this, but didn't bother to tell the pedant this one was owned by
the man who sent her here, as it would only prolong the examination,
while the guy ruminated over the complexity of ownership. They needed
to get on and examine a few more before the evening milking session.

Margaret was astonished! Since becoming a hucow, she was officially a

slave! Who owned her, the farm or her master? It seemed less likely he
was going to collect her now she was a slave and a hucow, which meant
she would have to stay here for the rest of her life!

Tears began to form, and she wondered if they were for being trapped
here in a stall, or that her master had abandoned her.

***

Elizabeth had volunteered to be a hucow, to cancel her debts, and had

been here three weeks, during which time her breasts had been growing.
The sight of them was scary and fascinating, as they were huge! The
orgasms had been wonderful, in fact they were amazing compared to any
boyfriend she'd ever had.

Her debts had been cancelled, she was being fed, and housed as
promised, though this last was a cunning deception, as she was living in a
stall, in a barn. It was high tech, and very clean, but still it was a milking
stall, and she was trapped in it. It was outrageous that she was unable to
leave while hooked up to a damn machine, and she resented being
controlled by a mechanical thing.

The milking of her now huge breasts, being fed, and the induced orgasms,
were all controlled by a machine. It seemed she had been selected for
breeding, because her genetics were right to produce good calves. Damn!
She was falling into becoming a permanent fixture of the machine, to
become nothing more than what they called a hucow.

She'd heard them talking about volunteers being classified as slaves,

which meant she was owned by the corporation, and they could do
anything they liked with her. As the milking time came up, she would
agree to being used as they wanted, as it meant having one or two
mighty orgasms, every time.

'Mmmm!'

Did this whole orgasm thing make losing her freedom worth it? The
nearer she was to the milking time, the less likely she was to object, and
the moments of lucid objections were getting shorter the longer she was
here. That was very worrying, as becoming a hucow wasn't just a physical
thing, it was a mental condition as well.

The vet patted her rump, and looked her over. This hucow was younger
than the last.

'It's in excellent condition. I'll go through the usual examination and make
notes, but I'm sure this will pass,' the vet said.

'Hey! What are you doing down there?' Elizabeth complained, on feeling
her breasts being fondled.
'Best put the feeder into its, mouth. It freaks me out when a hucow talks,'
the vet grimaced.

Only able to mumble around the feeding tube in her mouth, they weren't
bothered by her swearing. When the first probe was inserted into her
asshole, she complained bitterly, to no avail.

***

Jo no longer fought the farmhands. She had been thoroughly

domesticated and was looking forward to the birth of her first born. It will
be reared and educated to become a bull or a hucow, but they hadn't told
her which it was to be yet.

The vet was particularly careful with her, and confirmed it was pregnant.
The calf would be a hucow, and was healthy. Jo smiled to herself, and
wiggled her bottom at the farm hands. Joe had used her a few times
before she had been bred with a bull, and she had a soft spot for him, and
that was between her legs

***

Mathew telephoned the farm regularly to see how his favourite slave was
getting on. He was pleased with her progress, and that she was settling in
with the herd. They were exercised once a month with older hucows, to
give them confidence, and to learn how they were expected to behave.

'Margaret is doing well. The vet has been and he declared her healthy, so
she will be put into the breeding program. Do you still want that?' Joe
asked.
'Yes, of course. As soon as she is pregnant I'll come and collect her,' he
said.

Joe wondered what their relationship was, as a husband was hardly likely
to react calmly to that news, on hearing his wife was being fucked by
strangers every day.

***

Margaret shook her head from side to side, not wanting to go through
with this. It was all wrong! As a wealthy woman, she deserved respect
and was used to receiving it, yet here she was in a stall with a big black
man ready to do it to her.

Straining her head sideways she could see the man standing behind her.
When he patted and stroked her cheek, trying to calm her, he'd been
standing to one side. She'd seen his erection and it frightened her. How
on earth was she going to take that!

She'd heard the bulls had been chosen for their large penis, and large
balls. Damn! This bull would flood her insides with semen! They intended
her to be fucked and inseminated by this big black man! He obviously
enjoyed his work, and knew what to do, as he had over a thousand
women to practice on.

A herdsman had removed the rubber thing from her vagina last week,
and had been making her squeeze a soft rubber dildo. It was supposed to
strengthen her inner muscles, but the young lad enjoyed playing with her
sex. Twice he'd removed the one in her bottom and took her there. It was
a strange feeling having his cum shoot up her bottom, Different from the
enema, as he held onto her hips, and thoroughly fucked her ass.
The feeder was in her mouth, so she couldn't complain, though surely
they knew how small she was inside, and the bull was so big.

'Oh! Mooo!' Margaret uttered sounds from around the feeding tube.

The bull had eased the head of his cock into her. He knew it could be
painful and would have waited a few days if she wasn't ready. This wasn't
necessary as the boy had done a good job on her. He let out an animal
like sound, and shoved in. He didn't have time for niceties as he had two
more to fertilise before the afternoon milking session.

A few hard strokes, with her gripping hard, and he was ready. She wasn't,
but it didn't matter as she was just a hucow, and was there merely to be
bred. He hoped it was a bull, as he liked the idea of handing down his job
to a son.

He began to spurt his load into the hucow, wondering if this was the one
to make her pregnant. It had been given drugs to make it fertile, so
maybe this is all that was needed. Still, the farmer wanted it seen to
several times, by several bulls, to make sure, and to get it started
quickly. It also made it impossible to know which bull was responsible,
without a DNA check, and the farmer wouldn't give away the results.

Not that a bull cared one way or the other, as they were only hucows.
Was a calf his or one of the other bulls? It made it easier to let go, and
reduced the danger of a bull going soft on a hucow.

One after another of the six bulls on the farm, stretched Margaret's
vagina, and filled her with semen. For six days they rammed home into
her, fucking her hard and deep with iron hard, big cocks, with their large
sacks hitting her crotch. When they cum, it was certainly a hefty load of
white cream. The farm hands congratulated a bull when he finished, as it
was an impressive sight.

'There, there, hucow! Settle down, all done until tomorrow,' the bull
quietly whispered to Margaret.

Whoever it was, whatever his name, he'd made her cum twice! The power
of his thrusts were awesome, and had her on her toes, screeching with
pleasure. He must be the biggest of the bulls as she felt stretched and
had been full of cock, as though it filled her body.

'Mmm! Moo!' she breathed from around the feeder tube.

***

Four months after she arrived at the farm, and eight weeks into her
pregnancy, Matthew turned up, to collect his slave, or as she was now,
his hucow. Margaret was a thoroughly trained domestic beast, a hucow.

It was going to be difficult getting her out of the stall, as it had been her
home for four months, but it had been an intense experience, more
influential than anything else in her life. Four farm hands would be
needed to secure her, and get her out of the stall, onto a trolley, being
careful not to damage her udders.

They were now fully enhanced and were huge under her. A sling held
them to save breaking her back. The nipples would scrape the floor if she
tried to crawl. A special sling on wheels was needed to transport her. Was
she the lucky one, being taken home?

Others in the herd sensed something unusual was going on, and mooed
to her, in a shared female animal way. The timing had to be right,
between milking times so she was empty, and not anticipating another
milking session.

Margaret didn't want to be taken out of her stall, as it had become home.
It was comforting to be there away from all worries and tribulations of
life. A trolley was pushed under her and raised on its wheels, and she was
disconnected from the machine, which is when she let loose with angry
bellows and moos, as though a calf had been taken from her.

Her breasts swung for a moment or two, then they pulled her from the
stall. The trolley was loaded into the back of a van with two strong cow
herders in the back to make sure she was comfortable and not fretting
too much. They stroked her body all over, and pulled on the dildo's inside
her bottom and pussy. The feeder was connected to a barrel of mush,
laced with a calming agent, so that kept her quiet.

On arrival she was driven around to the tradesman entrance, and pushed
on the trolley into a small elevator. On the top floor a stall had been set
up, ready for her. Although still subdued by drugs, she gave out a warm
moo, as her feeder, dildo's, and breasts were connected up to the
machine.

As far as Margaret was concerned all was well with the world, now the
machine had taken over her life again. Better still her master was there.
Was it a dream or had he come to visit her? The milking process started
up, to distract her from all thoughts, as she gave in to a deep orgasm.
She soon fell asleep afterwards, as it had been a traumatic afternoon.

Margaret was awake early next morning, anticipating a milking. Her

breasts felt tight, and needed milking. She bellowed, and mooed, but
didn't receive an answer. She could see this was an ordinary room, and
not the milking shed, yet she could be happy here. Margaret missed the
sounds and smells of the herd, but the machine was the same, maybe
less powerful, but it only had her to milk.

She watched her milk rising up the clear plastic tubes into the machine,
and imagined babies in hospital drinking her milk.

'Master!' Margaret whimpered.

It wasn't an allusion it was really him!

'I'm here Daisy, my lovely hucow,' he said, and stroked her face.

She mooed and lifted her head for him to touch her. He bent forward and
kissed her lips.

'You're so submissive, it has been easy to make you into what I wanted,
my very own hucow. I'll look after you, Daisy. You'll be milked and looked
after, treated special all the time. My wonderful hucow,' he said, and
rubbed her rump.

She mooed pleasantly, and licked his hand. She was his domesticated
animal, and it pleased him, so she too was happy.

'This room is in your house. I've turned the top floor into a hucow shed,
and soon another hucow will join you, as you need the companionship of
your own kind, my sweet,' he explained.

One of the servants had been enticed into going for hucow training, with
the promise of a lucrative wage. Becky was ignorant of what it meant to
become a hucow, as Margaret had been, but she would soon find out. As
soon as she was fully developed she would be returned to the house, and
hooked up next to Margaret, or Daisy as she was now called.
Margaret was pleased to be close to her master, and reached out to him
with her tongue. If he didn't push the feeding tube into her mouth he
could fuck her face, and that would please her so very much. In the shed
there was no room in front of her for herdsman. Here her master could
access her all round. He might even fuck her pussy if she was lucky.

She didn't care much for it when the cow hands fucked her ass, and of
course it would be hard to compete with the bulls, but it would be nice if
her master made use of her.

Another hucow joining her here would be good. She was pregnant, and
couldn't wait to present to her master her first calf. Today was turning out
to be wonderful, and it was still early.

'You are now a slave, and you belong to me, Daisy. That means I own all
that you once did. I'll look after the house, the money, and the servants
for you. I'll build up a small herd, to keep you company. I might even
breed with you next time, would you like that, Daisy?' he asked.

Margaret mooed her pleasure at that thought, and licked his hand. She
leaned out as far as she could, reaching for his cock, but it wasn't far
enough. He eventually got the message after stroking her hair, and
thinking over what he was going to do with her. He unzipped his trousers,
and pushed his penis through the bars of the stall, hoping this wasn't
going to be a mistake.

She opened her mouth and sucked on the head of his cock, until he
pushed in. She could swallow it, after having a feeder in her mouth for so
many months it was easy. Margaret revelled in the feeling of having her
master's cock in her mouth. If she could do this while being milked, that
would be wonderful, perfect!
Matthew contemplated his new life of luxury, while she sucked and
slurped at his cock. She was doing a good job, with a strong suction from
her mouth and tongue. He wondered what her vagina was like now, that
she had been bred by a bull, and was used to having large dildos inside
her.

The servants could try her out, and tell him how tight or loose she was.
They would be pleased to fuck the woman who'd once owned the house,
and had employed them. He was careful to treat them well, and give
them a small wage besides the compulsory food and lodging.

These wealthy people didn't consider servants deserved much, and didn't
give them a wage, as he'd found from experience.

'Well, this wealthy woman is now a contended domestic hucow,' he

smiled, and shot his load down her throat.