School Daze Forever Ch. 09

Complexes, individual buildings, and diverse pathways gave way to ever more greenery. My tattoos tingled once along the way, and Fumiko was ready with an explanation before I could make a peep.

"Yup, that's the invisible fence," she said. "We're officially on the farm. Man, I wish I could make it more of a surprise, but, well... surprise!"

Off in the distance, I saw the strangest and funniest thing: dairy cows that were purple where they ought to have been black. There were half a dozen of them milling about, grazing, and looking like they hadn't a care in the world.

"So," she said, "lesson number one: purple cows are friendly cows. They're like the fancy cats and dogs in that way. With a regular cow, you need to be a little careful. They're very strong, and they can get into moods sometimes, too. Regular horses? Forget about it. You need to be on your toes every single moment you're around one of them. No slacking off. Purple cows, though, are just the best. Come on, let's run over to that one. She won't get spooked at all. She knows we're friendly. She'll be happy to see us."

Fumiko gave my hand a tug, then broke away into a jog. I followed just behind, and before I knew it, we were up close and personal with a white-and-purple cow. It was very large. It had never occurred to me just how big they were compared to a human. Fumiko gave it a big, awkward hug, then started petting it all around its ears and chin. It raised its head and huffed and snorted happily.

"Hey there, pretty girl!" Fumiko cooed. "Jenny, this is Bertha. Bertha, this is Jenny. Jenny, go ahead. Bertha loves meeting new college girls. In fact, I tend to think of her as an honorary college girl herself."

Seeing Fumiko treat Bertha like a house pet dispelled any lingering concerns I had. I moved in and patted her big, strong body, then stroked her back and sides while moving my head closer to her ears. "Hi, Bertha!" I said, mimicking Fumiko's soft, high, loving tone. "It's so nice to meet you. You're such a pretty girl, and so well behaved."

Fumiko smiled. "She is. They all are. They love hanging out with each other and with us girls. They also love being milked. Not to get too personal right away, but they also love the extra attention they get from their cleaning and maintenance equipment."

I started petting and scritching Bertha's ears and neck like Fumiko had been. She seemed to love it. To my surprise, I found myself falling in love a little bit, almost like I had with the kitties and puppies in my introductory animal care class. I felt a true connection to that big, silly-looking cow; the warmth of kinship, not just pleasure, passed between us. She might not have known who I was, specifically, but she knew I was a friend. She trusted me with her body. I rewarded that trust with loving touches and soft words of praise and encouragement. All of that made me feel good; I could even understand why Fumiko thought of her as a special kind of college girl. Bertha was a good girl, just like I was. She served and obeyed, just like I did.

"Do they moo?" I asked.

Fumiko chuckled. "Sometimes. Usually they're too relaxed to feel the need; they mainly moo to find each other in unfamiliar locations, or to track down calves. You learn to recognize the huffs and grunts."

"So this is how it all started, huh?"

"Surprisingly, no," she replied. "Oh, switch to the body, now, Jenny. Bertha wants some more grass. She needs to eat a lot to keep making milk. Okay, there we go. Anyway, no, the dogs and cats were first. Then came humans, and only afterwards did somebody get the clever idea to start modifying farm animals. Life is funny like that sometimes."

Bertha had found a nice patch of grass, and was chomping away affably while we both petted her long, thick flanks. I could still feel her responding to our touches; she was content -- almost in a bit of a haze. Her chewing sounded slow and easy.

"It's a real shame most cows are going away soon," Fumiko said.

My face fell, and my heart broke a little. "Why?" I asked. The question brought her lavender eyes up to mine. I could tell she felt the same sadness; she was just more used to it.

"Not sustainable," she said. "It's basic science. If you pump feed, grass and water into an animal to get something out of that animal, it's just so much more energy and waste than using the plant matter directly. 'R&RU' will always have some, because it's doing cutting-edge science, and I'm sure the genome will be preserved in a few more places, too. Honestly, I'm torn. A lot of cows get killed for their meat, and... it's hard. A lot of us have to learn how to cook with beef. We have to know how it's prepared, and even eat it a few times. I don't know if I could handle getting a job where I'd have to do that. Being with these girls has changed me -- for the better, I think."

I didn't know that I could handle that kind of job either. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I leaned over and sank myself into Bertha's big, silly, purple-mottled body, soaking up her warmth -- the essence of a living, breathing, feeling thing that considered me a friend already.

"But... they like being milked, right?" I asked.

"They do," she assured me, "as surely as all of us love getting our titties played with, and our dorm Mistresses love us suckling milk out of theirs. It's similar science. 'R&RU' takes care of its own, Jenny, always. That's a major theme of our tour today, actually."

That calmed me down a little. I synced up my breathing with Bertha's, closed my eyes, and let our heat pass into each other. It added to the sun's warmth beating down on my clothes and skin, but I didn't mind. It felt right to be hot. The three of us were, for the moment, a happy pod of college girls, and college girls were nice and warm as a rule.

"Airi says we're not so far away from mass-produced fake meat," she said. "I don't know if that's sustainable, either, but it'd be better, I think. The university isn't doing work in that area, though. I think some other company with designs on world domination will have to take the lead."

"Maybe it would be better if everyone were like us," I said. "If everyone just thought food was good, and ate whatever was easiest."

"Maybe so," she said. "For the time being, though, the world revolves around food and flavor. Heck, it's about mouth feel and color, too. I suppose they could shrink the margins a little to prop up the illusion, but it's still going to be a hard sell."

"The water," I said, remembering the colorful, allegedly flavored water we often had with lunch. When Fumiko and the other second-years had nudged us into realizing our lunches were generically 'good' with no discernible flavors, the same had been true of our drinks, save for the fact that they'd been cold and a little bubbly. They'd also been pretty colors. Mine and Lily's that first day had been a mild, tropical red.

Fumiko winked. "Silver star, Jenny. Why not a gold one?"

That stumped me.

"Works in progress," she said. "If you pay attention, you'll start to notice research and experiments everywhere." Fumiko patted Bertha's flank and changed positions, signaling a shift in the conversation. I felt her bright, lavender eyes on me. "Bertha will be a good girl for you, Jenny. Why don't you take a special drink?"

"I... what?"

I straightened up and looked over at her. She smiled knowingly. "You don't have to, but I think it's a fun new experience to have at least once. And yes, it's going to smell a little bit down there, but we do have the cleanest cows in the world."

"You're sure it's okay?"

Fumiko nodded. "I know how to brace her so she won't move. I'll take care of everything else."

I took a few deep breaths, mustered my courage, and sank down to my knees. Bertha's udder and teats were impossible to miss. They didn't dangle down very low, which I found strange. Bits of fraying memory told me that they should've been droopier and lower to the ground. Their position made it easier to roll over onto my back and shimmy underneath, but a little more awkward to actually claim one of the teats with my mouth. I adjusted my hat so that it was more of a head rest, though I couldn't actually keep my head down on it and still reach.

"You'll probably have to use your hands, too," Fumiko called down to me. "Cows are very sturdy compared to us girls. They need quite a lot of sucking and squeezing."

The smell wasn't so bad, all things considered. I definitely detected some musk and bitter earthiness mixed in with cow fur and cow sweat. Still, the udder and teat were both very clean. I used my powerful core and back muscles to stay leaned up, and brought my hands up to just above where my mouth latched on.

"Like an easy, downward massage from two sides at once," she said. "Coax the milk down into the teat, then suck it in."

It took me longer than I'd like to admit to get it right, but I was eventually rewarded with hot sprays of thin milk into my mouth. It was lowercase-g good, for the most part, but something deep inside of me sparked with recognition. It made my brain itch. There was another flavor. I couldn't find any words to describe it.

Bertha, for her part, seemed pleased as punch to receive a minor milking. Her huffs and grunts sounded happy, and she stayed perfectly still for me. Fumiko kept up her soothing praise and pets the whole time. Eventually, I released the purple cow's teat, lowered myself back down, and gave her udder a few feather-touch strokes of gratitude before squirming back out from underneath her body. Then I remembered my hat, and grabbed for it like Indiana Jones. Believe it or not, us college girls do have some free time to watch movies. You'd be surprised how many Masters want their dates and employees to know about stuff like that.

I wiped my mouth, stood up, and turned around. Fumiko was waiting for my report with that same knowing grin on her face.

"It was good," I said. "It was hot. And there was something else. It's an experiment, but it's not successful yet."

Her grin became a smile. She nodded her head while stroking Bertha's flank. "Gold star. They're trying to make fully flavored milk. The hope is that one day even college girls will be able to taste it."

"Huh," I said. "But we can already taste hints in pussy juice."

Fumiko nodded again. "Something about the species divide. I don't understand it at all. Airi probably does, but she's ultraviolet. Oops, sorry, right; you probably don't know what that means."

I shook my head.

"Just college slang," she explained. "Everybody reacts to the lights a little differently. When Airi gets under the strong blue lights, she's like a pint-sized supercomputer. It's crazy, really. She'd stay under them all the time if she could. Dahlia's very good with her, though. She can pull her away."

"So she's going to be one of the next super geniuses, then?"

"Oh, for sure, but the college knows best. It wants her to have the full experience before she buries herself in a lab somewhere. I don't want to judge, though. If doing science and math all day, every day is what makes her happiest, then she deserves that. Nobody would ever be able to say she wasn't a good girl."

"Of course not," I agreed. "Without those geniuses, none of us would be here."

"Not even Bertha!" Fumiko said, patting the cow a few more times. "You were such a good girl for us, cutie-pie. You go have fun with your sisters, and don't forget to hydrate!"

"Bye, Bertha," I said, giving her farewell pats of my own. "Good girl. I love you."

Bertha told me she loved me, too. I know she did.

Fumiko led the way to a futuristic-looking building, standing in stark contrast to the bucolic scene all around it. To one side of it, at a right angle, was a much more traditional-looking barn -- though a huge one, at that. On the other side was another sleek megaplex.

"That one there is all for show," she said, reading my mind. "All of our cows have top-of-the-line modern stalls to live in. You might say that one's the green barn. They even do some movies and shows in there -- including one of Daisy's favorites, actually."

"Daisy?" I repeated. "I met a Daisy."

Fumiko chuckled. "Definitely not the same Daisy. You'll have no trouble telling them apart."

We entered the foyer of the central megaplex. To my surprise, a serious-looking Mistress wearing a security uniform was manning the center console. She stood immediately, revealing her full, imposing height and build. Fumiko led me over and waved her wrist; I got the idea. I waved mine in roughly the same spot until I felt the tingle.

"Fumiko and Jenny," the serious Mistress intoned, scanning a monitor that I couldn't see. "First-year tour. Okay, everything looks good. Have a seat for a few, and we'll get Daisy into a rec room."

"Thank you, Mistress Shanti," Fumiko said.

"Thank you, Mistress," I echoed.

Mistress Shanti gave me a quick smile. "So well behaved. I like that." She sat back down at her station and busied herself with monitors and panels. Fumiko motioned me over to a set of chairs that were, like the rest of the building, very far away from anything you'd see on a traditional farm or ranch. They were comfortable as anything. My plugged, denim-and-cotton-covered bum felt like it was resting on a cloud.

"Everything is always so comfy!" I mused. "Even the ground."

Fumiko chuckled again. "Yeah, and once again, that's actually not the university's department. If you ask Airi, though, she'll tell you there's a sixty-two percent chance that all the companies are either effectively or actually owned by the same umbrella corporation." She cited the statistic with mock seriousness, making no effort whatsoever to actually mimic the short, somber, dark-skinned girl.

"So," she said, "colors. Blue, green, purple. How've you been doing with them? Do you feel ultraviolet in any of your classes?"

"I don't think so," I said, "though I suppose I can't know for sure. Green is very nice most of the time; it's a little hard when we're not allowed to cum."

She nodded. "Not sure you've gotten the full green experience yet. Full blue for classes is a must. Being a green fiend is rough when you're still in school, but I'll bet it's awesome once you've graduated. From what I hear, they can just cum whenever they want, like pressing a button." She made a goofy pointing motion towards her crotch.

"I think I like the purple," I offered shyly.

Fumiko smiled broadly. "That's great, Jenny," she said. "You probably haven't gotten maximum purple yet, either, but the college loves puppet girls. And hey, don't worry if you're not any of those things. I'm not. Most of us aren't. It's just a fun quirk. It can open some doors, but honestly, not many are ever truly closed."

"Okay," I said. "I'll keep an... eye out?"

She was nice enough to smile at the lame joke. Then, suddenly, she got serious herself, making full use of all those acting skills I was sure she'd learned during her own first year. I felt myself leaning towards her as a co-conspirator; I hadn't even meant to.

"So," she said, "the second type of cow. Daisy's about forty years old, and she's been with the college for just under twenty years. She's a real sweetheart, and I love her to pieces. I visit her and use her for tours every chance I get."

"That sounds very nice," I said cautiously. I wasn't sure where the conversation was heading.

"She's friendly," she said. "She's pleasant. She's not as chatty as me -- because who is, right? -- but she still likes to chew the fat with college girls. What you need to know, though, Jenny, is that she's simple. She's simple, and she's not very pretty."

I finally understood the seriousness, but found myself at a loss for words. I didn't know what to think, let alone say. The idea of a college girl not being pretty was alien to me. Then I felt guilty for caring so much.

Fumiko nodded sagely. "I know. That's why I'm telling you now. Daisy doesn't know she's... challenged in those ways. One of the things you have to learn as a rancher is that little white lies can be a blessing. Whenever I'm with Daisy, I make sure she knows that she's just as smart and pretty as any of us college girls. She's a good girl, too. She serves and obeys, and her milk gives lots of people pleasure.

"In a way, it's easy mode. She doesn't get suspicious of people's motives. She soaks up compliments. She's happy to chat about anything, even if she doesn't really understand it. I call her my little rubber-ducky cow sometimes, because she lets me bounce ideas and problems off of her whenever I want."

"Well she sounds delightful," I said. "I'm sure we'll get along. It's wonderful that you love her so much."

Fumiko's eyes drifted down. "I do love her," she said, "but it's complicated. She didn't have the choices we had. She was always simple. I try not to pity her, because that's shitty, and I don't want to question the college. It knows what it's doing, but... I don't know. Sometimes I ask myself why they don't make her a different kind of cow."

"Maybe they're trying to... you know." I didn't want to say 'fix her.' That sounded mean.

She nodded, but she didn't seem optimistic. "Maybe. We give her a good life. She doesn't get any outside visitors. Nobody wants to pay to fuck her. That's the worst part. Don't talk about that. Focus on your life at the college, and on her, okay?"

I reached out and rubbed her hand. She turned it around and gave mine a squeeze. "I will," I said.

"Thanks."

Mistress Shanti called our names. We were college girls, and Fumiko was a junior ranch employee, so we didn't need an escort. Fumiko led me to some elevators; the number of floor buttons on the panel was daunting. She pressed one of the higher ones, and I felt us going up. Most of the buttons were below the 'G' for ground level.

"Do they get outside?" I asked.

Fumiko nodded. "The building's a blocky 'U' shape. There's a special courtyard for cow girls like Daisy to mill and play in."

"She has friends, then."

"She does. I'm sorry I was so serious before. Her life isn't bad at all. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, it's okay," I replied. "I'm here to learn."

"And you care," Fumiko said. She found my hand and squeezed it again, then turned quickly and stole a kiss. "I really love that about you, Jenny."

"I love it about you, too."

The chime dinged and the doors opened. The white, sterile hallway was well-lit, but very narrow.

"Space maximization," Fumiko said. "A few floors are set up for off-campus visitors. They're very posh. These floors are all about giving the cow girls and visitors extra space."

Fumiko led me to the first door on the right. She waved her wrist, and it opened. She led me into a small room whose only noteworthy feature was the closed door on the other side. She shrugged guiltily. "We can't have them wandering off."

The door behind us closed, and, after a few moments, the other door opened. Warm light poured into the small waiting area. We walked into a 'rec room,' and I saw Daisy sitting on a plush couch, rocking happily, already watching a show on a big TV.

The room itself was fairly spacious, and immaculate. Besides the couch and the TV, it had a translucent bathroom, just like my dorm room, a table with four chairs around it, and a tiny kitchenette comprised of a fridge, a sink, and some prep space. I noticed immediately that there were no utensils of any kind out, and that every drawer and cupboard -- fridge included -- had a red light near an inset handle. The bathroom door boasted the same, as did the big door directly opposite the one we'd entered through. Everything was soft and rounded. It painted a picture for me very quickly. Daisy needed to be cared for, and she wasn't to do much for herself at all.