Atonement Ch. 05

Natalia was breathing hard. They had been walking for what seemed like hours, and they still hadn't found the exit to the room. It went on for acres.

She felt like she had been dropped into a horror movie set. All around her were aisle after aisle of cows being milked. They moaned and groaned as the suction worked their breasts, their milk flowing out into plastic tubing.

Each row was built in the shape of a pyramid, providing bleacher seating down each side in the form of a triangle. A stairway was built into the end of each row for maintenance access along the top. From bottom to top, four women sat on each side, stacked on top of each other. Four up, and four down.

The women were not free to leave. They had been strapped into place, sitting in specially molded chairs that forced them to lean backwards and stare at the ceiling. They wore black rubber masks, hiding their individuality. Their faces had been replaced with glowing green numbers, interchangeable, labeled livestock.

The rest of their bodies hadn't been spared, either. They wore thick catsuits that covered every inch, shiny rubber reflecting the sterile light from the ceiling. The only openings were at the breast and crotch areas, where metallic tubes were attached. Each cow's set of quad breasts were exposed, swallowed inside breast cups that pumped them mercilessly.

Metal straps held them to their chairs, at their shoulders, thighs, and waist. They had some freedom of motion, but without sight, it was impossible for them to release the electronically locked restraints, even if they had known the codes. Some of them writhed back and forth, palming the breasts cups, but they could not be removed, even with determined tugging.

The cow at the top of the stack had its mouth stuffed full with a rubber gag, plastic tubing rising towards the ceiling. White milk dribbled down the tubing, feeding the cow as large, soft headphones whispered secrets into her ears.

From that cow's breast cups, the outlet tubing led to the next cow in the chain, farther down, who was drinking the milk from the first cow. The pattern repeated again, the milk flowing down to the third and fourth cow. The last cow's milk was pumped into the floor, her large breasts jiggling as the suction cups extracted her nectar.

Beyond the hum of the working machinery, she could hear the gurgling of the milk and faint moans of pleasure. They were pure milk slaves, forced to relax and have their bodies emptied and filled, to serve the aliens without rest. To Natalia it seemed like an arousing fate, but also frightening. To sit in absolute darkness while the machines worked your body. She gulped, doing her best to avert her eyes.

It wasn't working. The longer she spent in this strange room, the more she was getting aroused, and the less she could think. A few of the cows she could see in the stack were heavily pregnant, gravid bellies wobbling underneath the thick latex as their brains and breasts were drained by the machinery. There was an aura of fecundity she could almost taste.

The worst part was seeing the actual scale of how many cows were being milked. It lent the place an air of inevitability. If this many cows had been processed, what hope did she have of escaping? She needed a plan, dammit.

She was usually the one with a solution. The best route of escape, the best route to shave parsecs from their travel times, the best way to make money. None of that cleverness from the outside world applied in here. She was truly in a different universe, trying to fight her way out of a featureless box.

"Have either of you spotted an exit?" she asked, looking at Morgan and Kylie, both of whom had been unusually quiet.

The silence had been getting to her, and she felt some of the tension relax at the sound of her own voice. "No," replied Morgan. "But we've been spending a lot of time in the central area. Perhaps we should split up and check down some of these rows."

Natalia twisted her lips. Morgan was still an unknown quantity. The woman seemed to enjoy being a cow, and was behaving rather passively. Since her keeper had been injured, she was even more subdued than usual.

Her suggestion seemed sound, but she could be aiming to isolate them from each other. She pressed her forefinger into her thumb. That was the paranoia speaking. Morgan hadn't done anything obvious to betray them. There was no reason to assume she was going to. If her keeper showed up, however, all bets were off. She wasn't willing to test the woman's loyalty that far.

"Okay," she said finally. "I'll head left, you two head right."

Morgan raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. Kylie cursed. "Why do I have to go with her?" she complained, her hands curling into fists.

"Because I don't entirely trust her, and you shouldn't either," she replied.

She turned to face Morgan. "If your keeper showed up right now, what would you do?"

Morgan clenched her lips. "I would immediately surrender my body to her."

"Precisely. Therefore, we logically can't leave you by yourself. Any further questions?"

Kylie snarled, but said nothing. Taking that as an affirmative, she turned and headed down the nearest row of cows.

She immediately realized that splitting up had been a mistake. Without the familiar faces to ground her, all that was left was a seemingly endless row of moaning cows moving restlessly as they were milked.

She stared at one of the cows who was at the bottom of one of the milk ladders. Her breasts were particularly large, her teats spurting white milk as she ran her hands up and down her swollen belly. Creaking sounds emanated from her body suit as it rubbed over her skin. MX34 glared at her from the electroluminescent display on the woman's mask.

She had been reduced to a number. A number they could assign production statistics to. Someone was probably poring over those numbers right now, making decisions about the cow's fate. What happened if the cow wasn't producing fast enough to keep up? Were cows ever put out to pasture?

Turning, she hurried on, but the image of the cow lingered in her mind. The noise of the stacks was really getting to her. She resorted to plugging her ears as she hurried on, terrified that she might convince herself to stop and examine one of the cows and somehow take her place.

She felt like it was taking forever to reach the end of the row, an endless expanse of milking chairs, plastic tubing, and groaning cows. She hesitated, turning to approach a set of the cows locked into the stack.

The cow at the bottom had a large belly, pregnant. Not all of them were with child, but many of them were. None of the women higher up in the stack had gravid bellies, making her wonder whether there was a reason for putting them down lower.

Regardless, the pure ecstasy of the cows was not in question. The catsuits they wore were tight, heavy rubber a few millimeters thick, making it difficult for them to move at all. With the added restraints, it was nigh impossible. The sucking noise from the milk machines was juxtaposed with moans, their chests heaving.

Natalia lifted her hand to feel the plastic tube that was jammed into the cow's mouth. The milk was warm, flowing gently. Tracing the tubing backwards, she realized it attached to a large bottle fixed to the milking chair. From there, another tube led to a coupling which was attached to the cow the next stack up.

The majority of the system must be gravity fed, but the cows could enjoy a sweet drink at any time. And that seemed to happen quite often. The cow would take a pull at the hose, drink, and make a low noise of pleasure before starting again.

She pressed a hand to the cow's mask, running it down her neck. The rubber was tight and slick, locking her into an enforced posture. The cow didn't even notice her stroking, so completely lost in her world of drinking and sucking.

A low noise whirred at the cow's crotch, and her hips moved with delight. The belt she wore covered her crotch completely, ribbed metal lines attaching into a rounded dome. It was impossible to see what was being done underneath, but it seemed pretty obvious the cow was being fucked while she was milked.

It looked like a pretty simple closed loop system. The cows could be moved around into any position desired, fucked and milked as required with the turn of a few couplers. Were the cows kept in their enforced slavery forever? It was impossible for her to tell, but it seemed likely that the device attached to the cow's nethers doubled as a waste evacuation unit.

She sighed, wishing that she could join the unlimited milking. No need to plan for the future when it had all been planned out for you. Being a cow was simple. Being free was difficult.

She left the cow to her fate with some reluctance. There was no way for her to release her, and there were hundreds of other cows in the same room with her. No, she needed to find an exit, and quickly. Kylie still needed her, especially since she had been acting out more than usual.

The row of cows extended into the distance, but each section was separated by a vertical pillar with a built-in hatch. Curious, she wandered over to one of them, peering inside.

The interior was far more complex than that needed for a ceiling support. The walls were studded with machinery and mysterious devices, the top shrouded in a black cloud. She was momentarily tempted to step inside to examine the devices closer, but a small hint of sound stole her attention.

Far off at the end of the row, she could see small figures marching towards her. The light winking off their outfits came in a regular pulse as they marched along. Gritting her teeth, she moved inside the hatchway, peering out to gauge their progress. If she was caught now, she stood absolutely no chance of escaping. Her heart thudded in her chest and she held her breath.

She jumped back as the hatch slammed shut from the top of the rounded chamber. Adrenaline spiking, she reflexively hammed at the porthole in the hatch until she realized it was useless. Her stupidity had gotten her stuck inside this dark tube.

What was worse was that she could feel her feet sinking into the floor. No, there wasn't goop down there - it was just an elevator. Within moments, the porthole was several body lengths up the wall, impossible for her to get to. She was well and truly trapped in this hole.

The hole didn't stay dark for long. Floodlights built into the ceiling clunked on, blinding her with a circular array of light. She gulped, knowing that she was really in the shit now. There was no practical difference between being captured by the aliens and being captured by this... thing. The outcome was the same. She should have run the other way.

Too late now, a hissing mist was infiltrating the chamber. A red light turned on, highlighting the top of her head.

"Cow detected. Begin startup routine," stated an electronically generated voice.

The hissing noise intensified, shadows interrupting the intense lights as a hidden metal mechanism whirled around her in the air at high speed.

Natalia rushed to the side of the circular pit, trying to hide against the wall. What she could see of the mechanisms terrified her, and she wanted none of it.

When her hands touched the wall, she stumbled back, alarmed. It felt wet, and sticky. She continued to back up, a sudden fear seizing her. The wall was coming towards her!

Whirling around, she saw a six foot tall fence of shiny, liquid black was closing in on her from all sides. She was forced back into the center of the room, underneath the whirring metal devices.

"Help!" she shouted. "Help... rmph!"

The black liquid blanked out her vision, splashing over her body like a wave. Her mouth hung open, panting from fear. The liquid had covered her mouth as well, but it only lightly coated the interior. She could still breathe at least.

But she couldn't move. She was caught like a rat in flypaper, frozen in position. Her mind raced, but she was out of plans. It was impossible for her to escape. She must endure.

"Cow captured. Now scanning," came the monotone voice.

A faint warmth played up and done her body, a blue light glimmering through the blackness of the liquid which had coated her eyes. She tried to move her arms, but they were stuck. The coating had hardened into a plastic shell, a tight, impenetrable barrier.

She could feel hard, metallic bars dropping into place beneath her breasts and under her hips, preventing any further movement.

"Warning: breast volume low. Initialize cow to starting stack. Auto injections primed. Program loaded. Waiting for alignment."

As she waited, the coating over her eyes began to clear, light seeping in. She blinked, trying to resolve the unknown images into something familiar. What she saw didn't give her any cause for comfort.

A rack made of blue anodised steel lowered from above, four rounded breast cups lowering into place around the bar which fit snugly against her chest. She moaned, worried about what the machinery was going to do to her body. It was going to inflate her breasts, turning her into a bimbo cow!

The top two cups attached with a pop, light suction holding them in place. The bottom two pressed against her chest over her second pair of lightly budding breasts. She hissed as four sharp pinches came in succession from her breast area, pain blossoming.

Her breasts had been sensitive before, but this was another level. Her chest felt cold, a rush of liquid draining into her flesh.

She tried to scream, but could only accomplish a sad holler. It was all useless. The aliens doing this to her didn't care. She was going to be their cow.

"Growth injections complete. Promote cow to third stage before stacking."

Sparkling lights filled her vision, some sort of hypnotic display. She could only groan as more needles slid into her neck.

***

Morgan was out of breath. Kylie hadn't stopped moving since Natalia had left them. She was a woman possessed, marching like a soldier. It was all Morgan could do to keep up.

She had been pretty fit in her past life, but she wasn't an athlete. Being transformed into a cow surely hadn't helped. Her extra assets wobbled dangerously as they moved, making her back ache abominably. She was built for milking, not for running. She made a noise of frustration under her breath and instantly realized her mistake.

"What, is this too much for you?" asked Kylie, her eyes blazing with a strange, inner light. "The poor little cow wants to stop and submit, does she? You want to be fucked and milked?"

Morgan breathed hard. "No, of course not," she choked out, lying. "This body just isn't built for this kind of exertion."

"Too bad," replied Kylie. She loomed over Morgan, staring her down. "If you start to lag behind, you get left behind."

That didn't seem like such a bad idea at the moment, but she felt as though she had a strange sort of commitment to see this through. She girded herself and pushed on. At the very least, she wished to avoid another tongue lashing from Kylie.

There was definitely something wrong with the woman. Other than her reddened eyes, her hands were clenched into fists, a constant stream of slobber escaping her lips. She needed treatment, and Morgan somehow felt that it was her job to keep an eye on her to prevent her from injuring anyone else.

Fortunately, they had reached the end of a row, cows jerking with ecstasy in their restraints as they were milked. She wished she could share in their pleasure, but she was stuck with an insane pirate. What joy.

"Here's an airlock," stated Kylie, moving forward briskly.

Morgan hesitated. "Aren't we going back to get Natalia?"

Kylie scowled. "Forget her. I'm not going back to find out if she's come up with another crazy plan. I'm getting out of here."

She moved into the airlock and raised an eyebrow. "Are you coming or not?"

Morgan grumbled, but stepped inside. It felt wrong to leave Natalia behind, but this was The Farm. If she was caught, they would take care of her.

She waited for the airlock to cycle, suffering in awkward silence. Kylie said nothing, laser focused on the exit.

Mercifully, the door finished its rotation quickly, opening out into a wide bay. Kylie moved with excitement, taking in row after row of neatly parked shuttles. With swept back wings and anti grav generators, these were top of the line craft for atmospheric work.

"This is it!" Kylie declared, almost dancing. "I'm actually going to get out of here!"

Morgan noted that she hadn't included her in the declaration, but she didn't really care. She followed reluctantly, toying with the idea of sidling back into the airlock. Spending more time with the unhinged pirate in a small shuttle didn't seem like a good time to her.

Kylie ran up the ramp of one of the shuttles, peering at the entry pad. "This looks pretty standard," she declared. "I should be able to hot wire this without any trouble. Give me a minute."

Morgan paced, staring at nothing. She had a hard decision to make, and she wasn't sure what to do. She didn't want to leave The Farm, especially not with Kylie. She suspected that if she got on that shuttle she would immediately become the pirate's hostage.

Her failure to make a decision so far had led her here, where she didn't want to be. Making no decision had been a decision in and of itself. The wrong decision.

She knew that the next decision she made was likely to be her last decision. Whatever happened, she wasn't going to get on that shuttle with Kylie. She girded her loins and watched Kylie carefully, gritting her teeth. "Kylie," she stated firmly. "We need to talk. I don't want to leave with you."

***

She breathed in and out, deeply, seeing nothing. A hood had been pulled over her head, blinding her. Cool, sweet air pumped in and out of her lungs, forced respiration.

With the air came some form of drugs, making her feel light headed and airy. Thoughts drifted through her mind, but didn't stop for her to examine them. She hadn't been able to hold onto any thoughts for quite some time.

Who was she? What was her purpose? The loose threads stewed in her vacant consciousness, a vague hissing tugging at her ears. In due course, a firm answer came back to her, but not as one of her own thoughts. No, this felt like it had been spoon fed to her.

She was a cow. She existed at the pleasure of the Farm. The answer was soothing. She didn't speculate about what being a cow might mean, she just was. It was her Truth. She was a Cow.

The interior of the mask was dark, damp from her exhalation. It gripped her skull tightly, providing a feeling of comfort. She was right where she needed to be.

Her body was in motion, being rolled along. She sat back, relaxing. Her body was strapped down, but she wasn't struggling. To struggle, she needed to worry. To worry, she needed to think. And there was no thinking involved. Just the autonomous motion of her chest as she breathed in the soporific gas.

Her chest felt heavy. Something had been strapped to her breasts, tickling and sucking as it pulled at her flesh, kissing four different spots. The pressure might have been discomforting, but in her current state it simply aroused her more. She was a cow. A cow must be milked. She was being milked.

This didn't prevent her body from wriggling involuntarily, but that was only right. Her body was being stimulated, and should show how aroused it was. How aroused she was.

In her altered consciousness, she could only feel and be told what she was. The Truth seeped into her mind, plugging all the crevices where intelligent thought used to live. She began to fervently believe that she was nothing more than a willing cow.

The chair halted, and turned. Her lungs continued to pump, sweat beading around her lips. Something external tugged at her mask and she was forced to turn her head slightly upwards. A plastic tube was shoved into the mask, parting her lips.