Whorestein's Hucow Dairy Farm Pt. 02

Previously, at Whorestein's Hucow Dairy Farm

Gemma, the trophy wife to the scion of an old money family, has taken it upon herself to visit one of the largest Hucow dairies in the United States to discuss the possibility of investing in their venture.

Unfortunately, the situation has escalated in ways the luckless Gemma did not expect. Drugged, restrained, examined and...altered, we left Gemma after she'd gotten her first look at her new, Hucow body.

And now, let's return to Whoresteins.

Gemma, overwhelmed the sight of her new bovine body had collapsed back into unconsciousness, her mind filled with confusing, frightening, enticing images of exposed flesh and the sensation of sensitive skin against sensitive skin.

Slowly she faded back into the waking world, gazing, more calmly now at her distorted reflection.

Alerted by her faint moans a figure in black scrubs approached.

"Ah, 457-Z is finally up."

He reached for a walkie talkie on belt.

"Mac, can you please let Mr Sterne know that 457-Z has come round."

Gemma still felt woozy, the bright white light stinging her eyes.

"I think you're about ready to go in with your herd. But I believe Mr Sterne wants to give you a little induction first."

Even with the surgical mask obscuring most of his face it was clear that the man was grinning.

Leaning over Gemma, he extended a hand towards one of her thick protruding nipples and gave it a gentle, almost tender squeeze.

Gemma felt like an electric shock had ripped through her body, the sudden overwhelming nature of the sensation leaving her gasping and even dizzier than before.

The man in the black scrubs gave a sadistic chuckle before turning away and resuming his work.

Gemma was left with little else to do but looking straight ahead once again, her gaze taking in the sight of the hucow she'd become.

***************

Hours seemed to pass in the harsh light of the room. Gemma eventually found the strength to turn her head enough to catch sight of two identical chairs on either side of her, occupied by two similarly proportioned women. Their faint moans were the only sounds aside from the hum of the lights overhead and the faint beeping of various medical equipment, patiently tended to by the handful of black scrubs-clad staff.

Gemma's mind was still fuzzy and she felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness, making it even harder to track the passage of time.

It was only when she felt herself being hoisted from the chair that she once again tried to focus on her surroundings. She didn't even bother to struggle when she was lifted onto a gurney and laid onto her back, feeling the full weight of her new huge udders pressing down on her chest for the first time.

There was another feeling as well though - a tight tenderness in her newly swollen breasts, an urgent sensation of fullness. As she was wheeled down a featureless corridor, fluorescent lights passing by overhead, she could only writhe and moan.

Finally, the gurney passed through a pair of doors into a new, dimly-lit space, taking a few twists and turns before coming to a halt. At either side of her, Gemma saw a pair of orderlies undoing her restraints before lifting her up and setting her down on a bare concrete floor.

Her struggles were futile as her limbs were manipulated by the pair, her arms stretched out straight and rigid white plastic braces, fixing them in place. Next came her legs, bent 90 degrees at the knees before another set of braces were attached fixing her legs in that position.

She whined in protest, her limbs flailing ineffectually as one orderly gathered her hair up in his hand while the second knelt down in front of her, ignoring her plaintive gaze as he took a thick leather in collar in his hands and secured it around her neck, the material pressing against her jaw and collarbones, instantly restricting her movement. She was able to muster enough strength to mount a feeble protest.

"No...I'm not..."

Opening her mouth was quickly revealed to have been a poor choice. In the brief moment her mouth was open, the orderly forced a solid rubber ring between her lips, holding her jaw apart, and rendering her all but mute, her speech obscured to the point of being unintelligible. It took him a few scant seconds to secure the strap behind her head leaving her voiceless, save for muffled moans, and her movements severely restricted: helpless, naked,

And with that, they were done.

Gemma was helpless as she watched the pair of them wheel the gurney through a metal gate which clanged shut behind them. Gemma lay there on her side, gazing despairingly at the bars of the gate, finally struggling to get to her hands and knees, the only pose possible with her newly restrained limbs.

Slowly, awkwardly, she managed to fumble her way onto all, gasping at the feeling of her new heavy udders hanging beneath her. The urgent sensation returned, now intensified and she was acutely aware of her nipples growing hard in response to her new pose. The intensity of feeling took her breath away, leaving her immediately made for the gate, pressing her face against the bars, straining to see what lay on the other side, having to shuffle her whole body left and right as the collar held her head strictly in place. The view was nothing more than a featureless, gray concrete corridor extending left and right. No sign of people, no windows in sight.

Gemma whined, her mouth twisting into a pout, a response that had defined her response to finding herself in unenviable situations for so long, but which would inevitably go ignored in her current plight.

It was only then that she was conscious of another sound, a scratching of plastic on concrete approaching from behind her. Even through the fog that persisted in her mind Gemma was startled, struggling to turn around as fast as she could.

A trio of faces met her gaze - three women, on their hands and knees just like herself, identical restraints and the same unforgiving gags lodged in their mouths.

They had the same proportions as Gemma as well - wide hips, narrow waists, full, round backsides and the huge, heavy tits hanging between their arms - as well as the rigid restraints ensuring they were restricted to staying on their hands and knees.

Gemma cringed away from them, recent events having left her mind alert to any new threat, any new source of humiliation.

However, as she struggled to catch her breath through the invasive gag, she realised she could see sympathy in the faces gazing back at her. The one in the middle tentatively raised her right hand, just a few inches off the ground. Hesitantly, Gemma did the same.

The woman who had raised her hand - a blonde haired, blue eyed woman with pale skin and who might have looked like a bold valkyrie maiden, were it not for her current predicament - gestured with her head for her to follow.

The woman turned, along with her two companions. Gemma moved to follow but was suddenly dumbstruck at the sight of a trio of round, shapely asses in a range of skin tones, facing towards her, exposing a sextet of holes, prominently on display.

Gemma, her behind still facing the gate she had passed through, realised very quickly what and anyone passing by would see, and pursued her new pen-mates as quickly as she could on her restricted limbs.

With the gags in place, speech was impossible, so Gemma simply assigned the trio names in her own head. The blonde, perhaps in her late 20's who had waves at her was 'Helga' she decided, since it seemed suitably nordic.

Another, olive skinned and looking barely out of her teens, she decided to name Hola, since she reasoned the woman might be hispanic.

The final woman was similar in age to Gemma but as far as she was concerned, that was where the similarity ended. The girl was in her mid 20's, sporting dozens of tattoos, many of which wouldn't have been visible were she dressed more conventionally, or indeed at all. Gemma did her best to avoid staring, particularly at the more risque examples. Ink struck Gemma as the most appropriate name for her.

'Helga' took the lead, giving Gemma a crash course in what the future had in store. The pen itself was quite large, and Gemma felt new muscles being tested as she crawled behind Helga.

First she was led to a small channel filled with fast flowing water. Helga squatted over the canal, and Gemma quickly got the, rather humiliating, idea - this was the bathroom. Surely everyone would at least have the decency to look away...

Next, Helga crawled across to a heap of straw in the room, and demonstrated that this was their sleeping area. Gemma shivered at the thought of trying to get comfortable, her sensitive skin against the coarse straw.

They proceeded to a trough, where Helga mimed the motion of eating with the ring gags in place, extending her tongue like a cat lapping milk. Based on the dried, brown mush on the bottom of the trough Gemma could only imagine what kind of revolting slop they were going to be fed.

Helga had saved the best for last though. Gemma's face went pale as the pair approached a line of four stalls, each equipped with a set of restraints set into the floor, and a tangle of tubes and cables hanging from above, several ending in long, clear suction cups.

With just a hint of a blush, Helga nodded towards the stall and shook her shoulders, making her huge breasts jiggle and sway.

Gemma could feel tears forming in her eyes, but managed a nod and a raised hand towards Gemma as a half hearted 'thank you.'

The next few hours passed uneventfully. Gemma made an attempt to fall asleep but her racing thoughts and the uncomfortable nature of her bedding left her tossing and turning. Besides, she could feel the pressure building in her bladder. She tried to put it out of her mind but it was obviously a futile struggle with only one possible outcome.

Finally, Gemma struggled back onto her hands and knees, careful to avoid the gazes of Helga, Hola or Ink, and striving to make as little noise as possible as she scurried across to the channel of running water.

Awkwardly, Gemma attempted to squat as Helga had one, but immediately found herself struggling to keep her balance. Eventually she resigned herself to simply staying on her hands and knees over the channel, struggling to let go, despite the pressure on her bladder, in this unfamiliar, degrading pose.

Slowly, she managed to relax her muscles, a small trickle quickly becoming a rapid stream that splashed noisily into the water in the channel. Gemma was certain that her pen-mates would be able to hear, no doubt glancing over to see her peeing into this exposed substitute for a proper bathroom.

As the sense of relief from her bladder faded, she felt the inevitable shame washing over her. Having degraded herself like this, about her new absurd proportions.

Surely Jeoffrey would be curious about where she was - he'd get her out of this dreadful place, get them to undo the revolting changes to her body. This was just a mistake - a misunderstanding. It couldn't be real.

Still staring dumbly, straddling the channel, she whimpered as she felt a new, distinct tightness in her huge udders.

At some point, Gemma must have fallen asleep, because she suddenly jolted awake at the sound of a klaxon and the sound of urgent movement around her.

Working herself up onto her hands and knees, Gemma saw Helga, Ink and Hola hurrying towards the trough. Reluctantly Gemma crawled towards the group, peering over Hola to get a view of the trough.

Another Klaxon sounded, and Gemma jumped as a torrent of grey-brown mush flooded out of the pipe at the end of the trough, splattering against the plastic and spraying up towards the eager, open mouths of the other three girls.

Gemma wrinkled her nose at the smell - there were hints of vegetables past their best, along with the distinctive smell of animals fat. Looking at the slop, she could pick out the odd piece of vegetable matter, or what might once have been the scraps from a joint of meant.

As distressing as the state of the menu was, Gemma found herself baulking in particular at the conduct of her pen-mates.

The moment the slop hit the bottom of the trough, Helga, Hola and Ink had their heads down, tongues guiding as much of the nourishing, if unappetising, slop into their mouths as possible. The women were literally submerging their faces, raising their heads again every ten seconds and taking another gulp of air before returning to their gluttonous feast.

Gemma crept closer, watching the women in a mix of fascination and horror as they worked every last wobbling, slimy blob of the feed into their mouths that the ring gags would allow. Finally, with every possible morsel devoured, the trio lifted their heads and backed away from the trough.

Helga pushed past Gemma, completely ignoring her, as if engaged in some urgent task, as were Ink and Hola.

The three women arranged themselves into a tightly knit triangle and swiftly commenced with licking the cheek and kneck of the woman to their right, slurping up the slop that had been left on one another's faces. Moans of need and lust and hunger mingled with the obscene, wet sounds of three eager, probing tongues.

When the last of the slop was gone, Helga pulled away, crawling back towards the straw pile.

Hola and Ink on the other hand, seemed to have other plans in mind. Gemma watched, transfixed, as the pair continued exploring one another with their tongues, but with a different goal in mind.

As their tongues intermingled, stroking gently, Hola let out a plaintive whine. Ink immediately pulled back, frowning and fixing Hola with a stern gaze. Hola lowered her head, another whisper of a whine escaped her mouth, earning her a lick on the cheek from ink.

With that, Ink swung her arms and legs to turn around 180 degrees, her backside pointed directly at Hola. Ink stretched her arms out in front of her, lowering her head and arching her back.

Hesitantly, Hola leaned forward extending her tongue. From Gemma's point of view she couldn't see exactly where Hola placed her tongue, but Ink made it very clear that she enjoyed it, swaying her hips and moaning through her gaping mouth.

The whole 'feeding' could have taken no longer than 15 minutes, but Gemma felt like hours had passed as she struggled to process what she had just witnessed.

She had seen consciousness in the eyes of those three women. Of course their circumstances were bizarre but they had been able to communicate, if only on a very basic level. And yet, she'd seen them, all 3 of them, responding to the signal for food like trained animals. Worse still, the obscene (and ongoing) display from Ink and Hola had left her terrified that she might be expected to perform the same kind of service.

She'd messed around a little bit in college, of course, letting other girls eat her out if the guy she'd brought home was too drunk to get hard. But she'd never put her mouth between another woman's legs because...ew!

But, she couldn't look away. She was still staring at Hola and Ink providing proof that the people who are best at knowing how to get women to cum are other women. Gemma was staring at the look of ecstasy on Ink's face as she rocked her hips enthusiastically. Then she locked eyes with Hola, her face framed between the generously proportioned cheeks of Ink's ass. The girl blushed, looking away, stirring a jolt of the hips from Ink when her tongue briefly stopped its expert ministrations.

Gemma, hurriedly stumbled away, heading for the heap of straw and laying down as comfortably as she could, her mind reeling from the lewd display from Ink and Hola - particularly the less than enthusiastic look on Hola's face.

One moment they seemed almost like herself, embarrassed about their circumstances but more resigned to it than Gemma, as one might expect since they had been here longer. But, in the moment 'feeding time' was announced, it was as if their bodies were taken over by some new, alien force. Their eyes had gone glassy, as if their minds were blank as they rushed to devour the revolting slop like their lives depended on it.

Gemma couldn't sleep having only recently woken up, so she decided to take some time to explore her surroundings a little more. By now, Ink had seemingly been sated, at least for now, and both her and Hola had collapsed into the pile of straw, with Ink serving as the big spoon, her limbs wrapped around those of Hola, preventing any chance for her to wriggle away.

Gemma crawled around the chamber, getting a more detailed look at her surroundings. Of course, there were cameras everywhere, covering every inch of the pen, another revenue stream for the dairy - low income types who couldn't afford a more intimate experience could still pay by the minute to watch the grainy footage of hucows going about their typical business.

Unbeknownst to Gemma, for example, as she explored her new tiny world, half a dozen men from around the globe were watching her awkward gait and reveling in their good fortune to stumble across a stream featuring a brand new hucow. From North Americans, South Americans, Europeans, Asians, and one man viewing the stream from a boat just north of the Cook Islands, her very first viewers got to savour the way her wide, meaty ass jiggled whenever she took a tentative step.

Gemma, meanwhile was preoccupied with trying to take in everything she could about her surroundings. What were the ways in and out of the dreadful cell? Surely, if she could find her way out and into a more...civilised, part of the facility she could find someone who would help her out of these damned restraints and let her explain the mistake.

There was the gate she had come in through, of course. Peering as far as she could from left to right, her face pressed against the bars, she could only see half a dozen feet down the corridor, and all that revealed were two other, identical gates a few feet away to the left and right.

Then there was the trough of course - another route out of this place, but a pipe a few inches wide didn't offer many opportunities to help her escape. Aside from that there were the cameras - she could definitely try to attract attention that way, and yet one more potential opportunity she had missed before.

As she made her way around the edge of the room, she reached what she had to acknowledge were the milking stalls. However, this time, she had the fortitude to look in a little more detail, especially having already seen them once before.

The stalls faced towards a walkway with a door at one end. Each stall faced the walkway, with a space cut into the divide to accommodate each woman's head. Gemma was too distracted by thoughts of escape to wonder at that moment why those convenient cut outs were present in the divider.

Storing the presence of the door away for future reference, while ignoring certain other details that she might have done well to take note of, she decided that the best way to raise the alarm about her predicament would be via the camera.

Crawling over so that she was centre frame, she did her best to raise a hand to wave into the lens. Still struggling with her balance, she instead resorted to rearing up on her knees before leaning down again. She could feel the soreness from her newly enhanced udders bouncing up and down each time, but she seemingly didn't give any thought to the show she would be putting on for anyone who might be watching.

Across the planet, those half dozen gentlemen enjoyed a rather impressive show at a bargain price, but they weren't the only ones watching Gemma bouncing her brand new funbags like a stripper desperate to eke out the last few tips on a slow night.

Much closer to Gemma's location, sat in his office and watching a much higher resolution version of the footage, Hunter Stern III took in the sight of the haughty trophy wife bouncing her tits for attention.