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The Milking Herd

By: StoryTeller07



(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.

The Milking Herd Ch. 02



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. 




The Milking Herd Ch. 02



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.



The Milking Herd Ch. 03



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.



The Milking Herd Ch. 04



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.




The Milking Herd Ch. 04



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.