The Awe of Being a Hucow Ch. 01

Summary: A journalist is converted into a hucow against her will.

Suggested Tags/Keywords: lactation, hucow, dairy, non-consent, journalist

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Author's Note and Acknowledgement: The original story was published in French on Literotica under the title 'Être vachue s'est merveilleux' available in my profile. Translated by Pimanko.

N.B.: I thank Pimanko for his time and translation work.

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Chapter 1 The Visit to the Dairy Farm

Stephanie was a young professional of 32 years of age. She was responsible for a team of journalists in a firm publishing a variety of very popular magazines. Her team consisted of young journalists, all of whom had just finished school and did not have much experience.

Her other colleagues did not appreciate her because she always seemed to have a haughty attitude. In fact, it was mainly due to her authoritarian character and also her sexual orientation. She was bisexual.

She liked men but she also had a strong attraction to beautiful young women. She liked to indulge in her sapphic pleasures. This caused some friction with her colleagues. The females always got the impression that Stephanie was harassing them. The males, who wanted to take the beautiful woman to bed, found that she was very selective and always wanted to be the mistress of the situation, which irritated the macho men in her office.

Her director had to admit that she led her team well and always summarized to the point and correctly on subjects and articles coming from her department. On the other hand, he was tired of receiving complaints from her team mates about her behaviour, both male and female, and both internally and externally with interviewees. Her offensive attitude toward the male gender and her kindly regard for the female gender made her come across in her entourage as a lesbian and a dominatrix.

Moreover, it needed to be said that Stephanie had some not negligible physical assets, which made every man who came across her, and also some women envious of her beauty, to turn their heads. She was a 1.7-meters (five feet, six inches) tall brunette with an angelic face, hazel eyes, a curvaceous mouth, and especially a bulging 32DD-cup bosom with a thin waist and slender well-muscled legs, in short, a truly beautiful woman.

One fine day, her director, Pierre Dérocher, had her come to his office for a new task.

"Good morning, Stéphanie. Sit down. I would like you to make a reportage on a new industry that seems to be progressing phenomenally."

"Yes, what's it about? I could send one of our reporters there."

"No, in fact, I would like for you to go."

"Ah, good, what company is it?"

"It's about a dairy that furnishes mother's milk. It's been in operation for about four or five years and is progressing nicely. I want you to go there to meet its director, who is expecting you, and will answer your questions. He will also take you to visit his plant. You will then write a paper, which we will publish in our next magazine. I believe this theme will be of interest to some of our readers. You take the company car and go there now. I've already contacted Mr. Claude Bacquet, the director. He's waiting for you."

A little annoyed, Stephanie wanted to pull out of this task but Pierre explained to her that she was the best one placed for this interview. She then left Pierre's office, took care of business in her office and then headed toward reception in order to get the keys to the company car.

With a big smile, Elodie, the receptionist, handed over the keys to her. "You're lucky to be able to leave this office. I would have really liked to go with you to visit this dairy, but Pierre didn't want me to."

Stephanie seemed a little surprised that Elodie was already in the know about this interview. Annoyed, she disdainfully took the keys and left the office. It was true that something had to have occurred between them but that did not concern her.

Stephanie drove the car for two hours in the countryside aided by GPS. The dairy was located quite far from her office. She arrived at an isolated building surrounded by railings. She approached the gate's intercom and identified herself by explaining the purpose of her visit.

A feminine voice replied, "Oh, yes, Mr. Bacquet is waiting for you. I'll open the gate for you. Follow the road to the visitors' parking area."

Stephanie parked in the indicated area and entered reception, a large room illuminated by big windows that were tinted to prevent people outside seeing the layout inside. She approached the counter where a tall brunette dressed in a white blouse received her with a big smile.

Her interlocutor's imposing bosom attracted Stephanie's gaze. 'She must wear an FF,' she thought.

"Sit down. Claude will be with you in a few moments. Do you want a coffee?"

"No thank you. I' fine."

The receptionist then contacted the director by intercom. Her voice resonated through the building.

"Claude, the journalist you were expecting has arrived."

A few moments later, a door located behind the receptionist opened. A big guy at about 40 years of age, with salt and pepper hair and athletic body, appeared.

"You must be Stephanie! I'm Claude Bacquet, the director of this establishment, the Good Breast Dairy. Your director, Pierre Durocher, contacted me yesterday to announce your visit to me and his wish to produce a reportage about our company. Come. Follow me to my office. We can talk about it."

Stephanie followed Claude. the two entered the director's office. It was a huge room equipped with a large desk and leather armchairs. The decoration there was frugal.

Claude indicated to her to sit in a leather armchair facing his desk. "I have an important meeting in a few moments but I'm going to put you in contact with the one responsible for production, who will answer all your questions."

He then picked up the telephone and dialed a number.

"Claudine, can you come to my office? The journalist who I talked to you about yesterday has arrived."

Turning to Stephanie, he proposed a refreshment, which she politely refused.

Some minutes later, the door opened. A big blonde with hair styled in a ponytail and wearing a white blouse entered the room. Stephanie was astounded by the vision of this beautiful young woman. She had clear-blue eyes and a mouth with curvaceous lips on an angelic face. She had to be nearly the same age as Stephanie.

Her blouse was partially transparent allowing the sight of under-garments worn by this goddess. What attracted her attention was that the transparency of her work blouse allowed the sight of a quite big panty with small green points, which resembled flowers, and her voluminous bra whose cups seemed to end with red-coloured cones. Stephanie had never seen this type of under-garment, which assuredly intrigued her.

Stephanie evaluated the newcomer's bosom at 34J, but it was the two conical protuberances, which projected through the fabric, that intrigued her the most. Stephanie stood open-mouthed in front of this beauty while Claudine held her hand.

Claude was dumbfounded by the scene. Stephanie remained hypnotized in front of the director's assistant and seemed to eat her with her eyes. Claude realized it too. Stephanie finished by giving her hand to the newcomer.

"Good. Claudine," Claude said, "I'll leave it to you to take care of Stephanie, answer all her questions in detail, and then have her visit the plant. I have to leave now, ladies. My meeting forces me to go but I'll return in a few hours to finalize the interview."

"Very well," said Claudine, "come Stephanie. Let's go in my office. It'll be more comfortable there."

The two women left. During the walk, Stephanie admired Claudine's rump, which was swaying in front of her. She only had eyes for the panty, which seemed too large for the ass cheeks that it was hiding. Claudine exaggerated her gait while advancing toward her office. She opened the door, let the young journalist enter and invited her to sit down.

"Okay, ask all your questions for your article."

Stephanie then opened her laptop and prepared to type in her notes.

"How long has this company been in existence?" she asked.

"The company was created five years ago following a government request because of a lack of maternal milk and social need.

"I see. But who are the women who give their milk?"

"We have all kinds of candidates. Let me explain. In the first place, one of the criteria is that our candidates must be in good health. They also must have sufficiently voluminous natural breasts. We reject small breasts because they're less productive. The selection then first of all comes from an exhaustive list furnished by the government."

"How can the authorities have data on the volumes of women's breasts?"

"In fact, it's not like that! The government sends us women who are under their jurisdiction, for example, women who come from orphanages after their 18th birthday. As they cannot stay in these institutions, the government gives them the possibility to repay their debt to society. To do so, they are prepared from their age of puberty."

"Ah, and how?"

"These girls are first prepared in order to ensure adequate development of their bosom. It's a very strict protocol. It's the same protocol we apply here for voluntary candidates."

"And what does this protocol consist of?"

"Well, it's based on appropriate nutrition, injection of prolactin and adequate psychological training."

Stephanie seemed more and more interested by Claudine's explanations. The latter noticed it immediately. She therefore continued with her pieces of information by getting more deeply into the details.

Enthralled by the description of the protocol, Stephanie no longer typed on her computer.

'Soon, she will take the test herself,' thought Claudine, who was continuing her narration.
"We also accept prostitutes who have been arrested by the police. These women already have a good physical and psychological training. The protocol is simpler. Women taken in because of domestic violence or sexual abuse also come. For them, it's necessary to rebuild their self-confidence. Finally, we also have volunteers who appreciate what we offer them, that is, freedom, security, love and pleasure."

Stephanie gave her a questioning look.

"And yes, all our candidates are lodged in their own rooms, which they set up to suit themselves. They are fed and can attend to all kinds of activities."

"But they are prisoners in your place."

"Not at all, they are free to go out, leave the establishment, carry on another life. But in fact, once they get a taste of their function, they no longer want to leave us. They are all selected for their aptitude to supply milk in quality and quantity. They have passed a battery of tests in one of our clinics and are treated here with a lot of care. For them, it's as if they are in a vacation club. They are all happy to give their milk, which makes them proud to be useful of society. As I told you before, they get a lot of benefits from the material, spiritual and especially the sexual standpoint."

"Really?"

"Yes, by giving milk, they have become hucows."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, the term comes the contraction of the words 'human' and 'cow'. It's American slang. As I was saying, they're given microchips with a number unique to them. It allows them to follow all the production processes, rest periods, nutrition and leisure."

"You treat them like cattle?"

"Be rest assured. They are very well treated. They adore what they do. They even take pleasure from it!"

"How long do these candidates stay here? How long can their breasts produce milk?"

"We call them hucows here. That depends on their production. A hucow can supply milk on average for 25 years and sometimes even more. Remember, in times past, wet nurses were old women. Once their milk was exhausted, they could return to society, if that is what they want, or stay here with us to work as assistants. We have a need for personnel to be busy with our livestock and to provide the best treatment. Personally, I'm a hucow and I also work as Claude's assistant."
Stephanie then understood why this beautiful blonde who was in front of her possessed such an exuberant bosom. While throwing a glance at her interlocutor's bosom and bra, which appeared to be very strange, Stephanie continued to type on her keyboard.

Claudine noticed. Amused, she followed Stephanie's gaze who then lifted her eyes to blush.

"What type of milk do you produce here?"

"In my case, I produce standard milk but our company produces three types of milk, natural milk like mine, commercialized for infants, and fortified milk for the aged in government institutions as well as powdered milk for export."

"How many candidates, I mean, hucows, do you have in production?"

"At present, we have about 50 but our objective is to have more than a hundred. We are expanding our facilities with this in mind and are always on the lookout for new hucows. Currently, we do some marketing. We also have days for open houses."

"Who comes for these days?"

"There are many interested women, and some men, those who accompany their spouses and encourage them so that they can begin lactation by following our regimen for their own pleasure, and those who are single and curious to meet our hucows. During the visits, we have milk tasting. Everyone is then agreeably surprised by the quality of our products and services. They become potential and diligent clients. You will also have the experience in milk tasting during your visit!"

"Ah?"

"Yes, we are going to have you taste our different products."
Stephanie had no problem tasting milk, but women's milk? It had been a very long time since she drank some. During her entire childhood, when her mother made her suckle, she was healthy up to the age of eight years old because her mother wanted to give her all possible defences against illnesses. She had loved that. She remembered that her mother seemed to take enormous pleasure in making her suckle directly from her breasts.

"The article you are going to write and publish in your magazine is part of our publicity policy. We are beginning to make presentations in prisons for women. We hope to employ several of them."

"Isn't that risky? It will not be easy to keep these women here. They have to be very docile! I've already visited these prisons. It's no piece of cake! They are true rebels!"

"Oh, not to worry! We are equipped here to tranquilize them and quiet them down. Besides, they quickly acquire a taste for the place. They will never want to leave. It's not a prison here, quite the contrary! It's only guaranteed pleasure. Furthermore, they will feel useful to society. They will pay their debts for the crimes they committed."

Stephanie was surprised by what she heard. She had never thought that this kind of institution could exist. The thought of these women with very well-developed breasts excited her.

Claudine realized this. To cut the interview short, she proposed a visit to the plant to Stephanie. "Let's see our plant, if you wish. And let's be on a first-name basis because we're nearly the same age!"

"Yes, sure," Stephanie answered.

"Good, let's go to the locker room where you'll be able to change and put on regulatory equipment for the visit."

Claudine then took Stephanie's hand and led her to the locker room.

"You have to undress, but you can keep your under-garments on under the smock. For shoes, we'll give you appropriate slippers."

Stephanie complied by unbuttoning her blouse, which she took off, and then the skirt, which she folded. She carefully placed her clothes on the hangers that Claudine handed to her.

Claudine helped Stephanie to slip on her blouse. "You have such nice breasts. You must wear DD, right?"
Stephanie blushed and said, "Yes, how did you know?"

"When working here, you learn to judge the size of breasts. In any case, you have a beautiful bosom."

"Thank you. You have a beautiful one too."

"Yes, it's grown with the treatment I've taken and the fact that I give milk regularly. Me, I'm a J but before I had a DD like you."

"Really? It has grown that much? Doesn't that bother you?"

"No, not at all, I like it more now. And it's are all-natural. It gives me a lot of pleasure."

"How so?"

"Just a touch on my nipples, with a tissue, a tongue or the experienced fingers of a hand, and I cum.

"I see, me too, I'm also am an enjoyer of nipples."

Claudine placed her hands under her breasts and shook them vigorously.

Stephanie watched her do it but her eyes translated into an exaggerated desire to take them in her hands in turn.

Claudine noticed. She took Stephanie's hands and placed the palms under her bosom so that the journalist could judge their weight. She then unbuttoned her smock and took off her bra.

"Your bra is strange. What brand is it?"

"They are special bras. They have suction cups which create a void and therefore stretch the nipples. It's for making our nipples firmer. Feel my nipples."

Stephanie extended her hand toward Claudine's right nipple. With her index finger and thumb, she lightly pinched the protuberant mammary.

"They are so hard. Don't they hurt?"

"No, certainly not, on the contrary, they give me pleasure. It feels so good to have them stretched by the milking machine. You are going to see that our hucows feel nothing but happiness. It's very nice to feel the milk rise up and have it extracted. Let's go to the milking parlor."

After putting on a translucid smock like Claudine's, the latter took her hand. The two women left the locker room and followed a long corridor edged with doors with reference signs. They went toward the first door where it indicated 'Milking Parlor Nr. 1, Natural Milk. Please wear your security clothes before entering.'