The Unofficial Cowgirl Guide Ch. 02

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Cowgirl Anatomy 101, complete with anecdotes.
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 09/27/2013
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2. Cowgirl Anatomy

While cowgirls retain the majority of the physical and biological characteristics of human females, there are certain aspects of cowgirl anatomy that separate them from the average woman. Some aspects are obvious to even the most casual observer, while others are more subtle and can go unnoticed by those who are unacquainted with the industry. While some aspects of this transformation are at least partially reversible, others are entirely permanent.

a. Udders

The udders are the most immediately noticeable and distinguishing characteristics of a cowgirl's anatomy. The typical cowgirl's udders range from five to seven times the size of the typical human breast and can weigh in excess of thirty pounds each when fully engorged. A cowgirl's udders typically encompasses the entire ribcage and extends at least twelve inches from the abdomen. Due to their considerable size and weight, a cowgirl's udders will typically hang at a significantly lower angle than human breasts. It is not unusual for a cowgirl's teats to hang just above her navel when standing upright.

Once they are fully developed, it is not uncommon for a cowgirl's udders to comprise up to a third of her overall body mass. It may take a new cowgirl some time to adjust to the weight of her udders. You may consider training your cowgirl to walk on her hands and knees when necessary until her back muscles strengthen and she acclimates to her new center of gravity. Some owners go as far as requiring cowgirls to walk on all fours indefinitely in order to prevent injury and further facilitate the dehumanization process.

When a cowgirl is in the milking position or is otherwise on her hands and knees, the udders will hang low towards the ground, stretching the skin in the process. This stretching helps facilitate the flow of milk through the udder, and is one of the main reasons why the all fours position is the preferred milking position in the industry. This causes the skin where the udders extend from the ribcage to stretch considerably. While this is normal, if the skin becomes red and inflamed, immediately apply a topical analgesic to reduce irritation.

In addition, the skin of the entire udder will stretch and shrink as the udder becomes engorged and emptied. The skin will be taut and hard when the udder is full. When milked, the udder is softer and may crease slightly, giving the appearance of a slightly deflated balloon. The overall size of the udder will change dramatically between milking, swelling dramatically when engorged to capacity and shrinking considerably after a thorough milking.

Another major difference is in the udder's vascular system. The veins in a cowgirl's udder are significantly darker and more visible than those of a breast, and may stand out from the skin when the udder is engorged. They form a blue web-like pattern that runs from the outside of the udder towards the center, terminating at or just shy of the base of the teat. This allows the cowgirl's circulatory system to provide additional oxygen and nutrients to the udder's cells, supporting more robust milk production.

Last but not least, the teat is the last major physical difference between a cowgirl's udder and a woman's breast. Teats are significantly longer than nipples, the net result of consistently being pulled down and into the funnels of a milking machine. They average between two to three inches long and just under an inch in diameter. The skin of the teat is significantly darker and tougher than that of a woman's nipple. Despite its apparent ruggedness, a cowgirl's teat is extremely sensitive, and even veteran cowgirls will frequently orgasm from milking alone.

In addition to the changes in appearance, there is a key change in the response of the udder to physical stimuli when compared to human breasts. In human women, the let-down reflex is triggered by nipple stimulation or by the sound of a crying infant. It can also be triggered by orgasm in certain situations. In cowgirls, sexual arousal and the let-down reflex are merged during training in order to promote milk production and increase the reward response behavior in the cowgirl. As a result, the teats will begin to leak the moment the cowgirl becomes aroused and the cowgirl will become aroused to the both the sensation and anticipation of milking.

You can imagine my surprise when my wife asked if I would like to have a cowgirl. "Who wouldn't?" I replied carelessly. A beautiful pliable creature that you can fuck at will and that will bring in a tidy profit with her warm delicious milk. Who wouldn't indeed?

Still, it was a strange question. I've known my fair share of jealous women, and while Melanie was not particularly possessive, it seemed strange that she'd entertain the notion of inviting in temptation on all fours. She wasn't one to put me through tests or other strange mind games, so assumed it was a question based on idle curiosity and nothing more.

I thought nothing when a package arrived in the mail for Melanie. I was shocked as she withdrew a syringe from the nondescript cardboard box, even more so when she slid her jeans and panties to the floor and bent over the back of our couch.

"Well?" Melanie asked. "What are you waiting for?"

I jumped up from the recliner, eagerly grabbing the syringe from my wife's outstretched hand. She braced herself against the couch as I wiped the area clean with the included sanitary cloth. She hissed as I plunged the needle inside, but turned to kiss me as soon as the deed was done.

Along with the hormone cocktail came a brief, but helpful manual. I learned a whole new vocabulary with which to describe my wife's body. I followed the instructions dutifully, ensuring Melanie received her hormones at the correct time and dosage, disposing of her clothing, and above all else, reinforcing her psychological conditioning. It wasn't hard. It seemed Melanie preferred the notion of being a cowgirl to being a wife. I would have been offended if I didn't so thoroughly agree with her.

It didn't take long for the changes to take hold. The very next day her breasts, or rather, her udders were significantly swollen, a welcome improvement from the perky, but modest tits she started with. As they continued to grow, I ramped up the intensity of the stimulation and conditioning. "Positive reinforcement," the book claimed, "is the key to any successful cowgirl."

"When I start to milk you," I whispered as slowly fucked her from behind, "your udders will produce a gushing stream. It will arouse you, the feeling of your milk flowing from you, and you will look forward to milking time all day. Your milk gives you purpose. You will focus on the sensations of your udders as they grow and fill and stretch. Milking time is the most important part of the day. It's reason you are here."

I was paraphrasing a bit, but the intent was simple. Make her identify with her uddrs. Make her associate milking with sex and sex with milking. Make her milk the purpose of her existence.

Within a few days her milk started to flow and once that started, there was no going back. I dipped into my savings to purchase a dairy grade milking machine. It was pricey, but I figured the milk money would pay it off quickly. Like the good book said, milk is a supply and demand thing.

The next several weeks were incredible. I watched as her udders rapidly expanded, adding inches to her bust on a daily basis. An intricate net of blue lines emerged from her engorged titflesh, working feverishly to supply additional bloodflow to her swollen mammaries. Her teats grew long and tough, stretching a little more each time they were drawn into the milking machine's funnel.

I loved watching her on the milking machine. It was intoxicating, watching the liquid gold spray into the clear funnels from those enormous mounds of flesh. She'd moan and coo as the machine forcefully drew the milk from her, enthralled by both the physical and psychological satisfaction of fulfilling her new purpose in life.

Her udders were truly a thing of splendor, a far cry from the meek breasts that once adorned my former wife's chest. They continued to grow larger each day, filling up her entire ribcage. They hung so low and heavy, her sensitive teats almost dragged the ground as she plodded around the house on all fours. I couldn't think of a way to weigh them, but they were easily the better part of fifty pounds. I knew she would never walk upright properly again, but I was well past the point of caring, completely enamored with the beautiful creature my wife had become.

She smiled happily the day the inspector arrived. She passed with flying colors and after a few quick signatures, our relationship as husband and wife ended as she legally became my property. "Now I really am a cowgirl," she said in awe as she inspected the fresh lines of black ink that adorned her backside.

She was so proud of her udders, constantly bragging about them to the few girlfriends brave enough to face the new and improved Melanie. I let them stroke her udders and play with them, even try some milk straight from the teat if they were bold enough. By this point I'd paid of the milking stall and had more than enough to buy a new cowgirl, but I suspected that if I played my cards right I could talk one or two into joining my little herd.

After all, as Melanie so eloquently surmised, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?"

b. Rump

The second most distinguishing feature of a cowgirl's body is her rump. While the physiological changes to the rump are minimal, there are a few notable cosmetic alterations that are an essential component of the cowgirl transition process. While not as immediately obvious as a cowgirl's udders, these features are completely permanent, identifying a woman having once been a cowgirl for the rest of her life.

The Radio Frequency Identification Device, or RFID tag is the most subtle of these alterations. Invisible to the naked eye, this tiny microchip is injected into the fleshy rump, allowing owners and inspectors to positively identify a particular cowgirl using a handheld scanner. This device is encoded with the cowgirl's serial number, which contains all the essential information required to return a lost or runaway cowgirl to her owner. RFID tags can also be placed inside plastic tags and attached to a cowgirl's earlobe. While less expensive, this method is not frequently utilized due to increased risk of injury and infection.

The Serial Barcode, colloquially known as, "The Brand," is the more visible of the two primary modifications. It consists of a fourteen character serial number paired with its corresponding bar code. This consists of the cowgirl's summarized ID, breeding classification, trainer code, date of acquisition, and source code. Each brand is unique, telling the who, what, where, when, why, and how of a cowgirl's story.

Modifying or removing a brand once administer is strictly prohibited. While it is possible for a cowgirl to become emancipated, depending on the terms of her contract, it is essential that all cowgirls retain a physical reminder of who they are and where they came from. In the words of Senator Richard Johnson, author of the cowgirl code of the Human Property Act, "Cowgirls are an essential component of our economy. Their existence allows us to enjoy many aspects of the standard of living to which we have grown accustomed. Encouraging young women who possess the appropriate physical characteristics to become and remain cowgirls on a permanent basis is crucial to the sustainment of this industry."

13D-B-HFD-072211-P. These letters and numbers, along with the series of parallel black lines of varying thicknesses are the first think anyone sees on my rump. Ass. Fuck. I've really got to get the cowgirl jargon out of my head.

These letters and numbers tell a story, to those who know how to read them, which is pretty much goddamn everybody these days. The moment my pants come off, any guy I'm with knows who I was, what I am, where I came from, when I got there, and why I was there to begin with.

13D. Thirteen-Dee. That was what they called me. No, it was more than that. That was my name. Shorthand for the thirteenth cowgirl of herd D. I was on a corporate dairy you see. Not one of those little family run places. This place was huge, had hundreds of cowgirls from all walks of life. To them, I was livestock, pure and simple.

B. Breeder. Apparently I passed some sort of genetic screen that meant I was qualified to give birth to the next generation of human dairy cows. They knocked me up twice. Kept milking me throughout each pregnancy. I got one day to recover each time I gave birth. It wasn't that bad. Ranch hands made sure my cunt was properly stretched out on a daily basis. They used their cocks, their fists, and some kind of balloon contraption to make sure I'd have a quick and easy labor. Gotta admire their ingenuity.

HFD. Herschel Family Dairy. That was the dairy I was sold to. Funny that they put "family" in the name. I guess technically it was owned by the Herschel family, but as I mentioned earlier, this place was massive. There were about two hundred milking stalls, four dining halls, dozens of barracks with hundreds of beds, four bay-style showers with fifty shower heads apiece. Everywhere you went there were at least two dozen cowgirls, milking, sleeping, eating, and fucking at any given time of day. The only place in the entire freakin' dairy that a cowgirl could get a moment's privacy was on the toilet. That at least, no one wanted to see.

072221. July 22nd, 2021. This was the day I became a cowgirl, the day I received the brand. Branding, marking, tagging, inking, whatever you call it. It's the day they put a microchip in your rump...ass...and give you a tattoo that lets you and anyone lucky enough to see it know that you were, at one point in your life, a cowgirl. It was the day that the government decided I was more valuable as livestock than I was as a human being.

P. Prisoner. These days a private dairy is a far more attractive option for female inmates than prison, at least for qualified, non-violent offenders. One stolen car got me a five year sentence making milk and popping out little cowgirls. Funny how life works.

Former cowgirl is kind of a misnomer. It implies that it's something you used to be, rather than something you always will be, deep down. My udders...no point in calling them breasts...are still massive, although the milk's tapered off considerably after getting off the hormones. My cunt's still plenty tight when I want it to be, but I'm pretty sure baby number three will slip into the world without much trouble. But my rump, that's the real reminder. The brand sits just at the far edge of my rump, where it merges with my thigh. Impossible to cover up even in granny panties, let alone a bikini.

Maybe I should go back to the dairy. It wouldn't be the first time I went back, and it's not like my life is that different now anyway. I still milk myself at least three times a day, only now it's with a woefully inadequate breast pump. The milk keeps a roof over my head, but not much else, and landing a regular job is tough when you're so top heavy you have trouble standing upright. As far as relationships go, well that's a tough one. You see, the moment a man sees those letters and numbers, sees the story tattooed on my rump, he quietly bends me over and fucks me like an animal. I don't blame them, I really don't. After all, you can't rape the willing.

c. Cunt

A cowgirl's cunt goes through a series of subtle, but significant changes as she transitions from woman to property. Changes in hormone levels as well as psychological conditioning create a state of near-perpetual arousal, allowing unfettered access to the cunt at all times.

A cowgirl is conditioned from day one to identify sexually with her udders. This facilitates pleasure seeking behavior in the cowgirl, psychosomatically causing her to produce more milk in pursuit of sexual satisfaction. While the primary stimulation occurs in the udders, the cunt will secret vaginal fluid more easily and in greater quantities than in regular women. This additional demand on a cowgirl's body should not go unnoticed and it is critical that a cowgirl remain adequately hydrated at all times. Another fringe benefit of the hormone cocktail is the complete cessation of the menstrual cycle, preventing the need for sanitary items and iron supplements.

Partial or complete removal of the pubic hair is a common practice, both for sanitation and ease of access. A fully developed cowgirl will be unable to do this herself, as she will be unable to see her cunt properly past her udders. Owners may either shave their cowgirl's pubic hair if they see fit. Many, particularly corporate dairy's opt for laser hair removal in the interest of reducing upkeep.

Stimulating a cowgirl's cunt is an important task for any owner or handler, to include sexual intercourse. It further emphasizes the connection between milk and pleasure and serves as an effective reward for positive behavior and optimal milk output.

For owners to decide to breed their cowgirls, cunt stretching and pelvic floor exercises is an important component of preparing a cowgirl to give birth. A wide variety of hand and mechanically assisted techniques are utilized to accomplish this goal. One popular option is the birthing ball, a sanitary rubber ball fourteen inches in circumference designed to simulate the passing of a baby's head. The goal is to allow the cowgirl to give birth quickly and easily with minimal discomfort and recovery time. A handler should be able to insert one hand with ease and two hands with limited resistance. In addition, a breeding cowgirl should be able to expel a fully inserted birthing ball without assistance in under five minutes.

I didn't realize that I was pregnant again until Sam brought out my birthing ball. It was the seventh time in as many years that the bright orange sphere entered my life. Sam said I'd bring at least a dozen little cowgirls into the world by the time I was done, and thanks to a few sets of twins I was already almost there.

I enjoyed being pregnant for the most part. There was something thrilling about feeling a little creature beating its way into the world from inside me. I was the envy of the herd once I started to show. The other cowgirls would gaze at my distended abdomen with envy as I slowly lumbered my way into the milking shed each morning.

The best part by far was the special attention the handlers paid my cunt. Don't get me wrong, I got a good fucking at least once a day well before they started to breed me, but there was something special about being stretched out this way.

Sometimes I wondered what it looked like, whether it still resembled the neat little slit I remembered when I first came to the dairy. I knew it no longer had hair, courtesy of a high powered laser. I hadn't actually seen it in over a decade. I tried once or twice, but once my udders came in and I had to start walking on my hand and knees, it was pretty much impossible to get a good look. The other cowgirls assured me that my cunt was still very pretty. Given how much the handlers seemed to enjoy fucking it, I tended to believe them.

It certainly felt nice, slick and warm and inviting. Sometimes I'd reach for it during my milking sessions, giving myself a little extra satisfaction when there wasn't a handler there to fuck me. My fingers would get coated in a thick layer of clear fluid, the rest of which would run down the inside of my thighs.

Just thinking about it was enough to start a fresh batch of cunt juice flowing. I had a good feeling about today's stretching session. I moaned as I felt Sam's hand slide inside me, my juices coating his fingers instantly, allowing him to slide in his entire hand without any resistance. I squeezed down hard as I felt him form a fist inside me, eager to show of my strength as well as keep in in me as long as possible. I let him go after a while, and I was rewarded with two sets of fingers spreading me apart, as though he was trying to swan dive his way into my womb.

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