Witless Protection Program

She had a lot of opportunity to do it because of one last lingering impact of the treatment for me: if my mind wandered, sometimes I did, too. The choker collar that held my cowbell was functional as well as decorative, because it allowed Nikki, Andrea, or whoever was accompanying me to keep hold of my leash and prevent me from straying into trouble. I didn't really feel demeaned by it; no one in the Squad made fun of me about it, and I never had any trouble finding someone ready to take me out if I needed to go someplace.

Andrea was the most eager volunteer after Nikki, so she got plenty of chances to inspect my body. I don't mean that as a euphemism for having sex with me, though of course there was that as well: there was nothing the least bit unusual about any of the girls having sex with me. That was especially true after my latest transformation, when I was always ready to show the capabilities of my new longer tongue, but none of us had ever been especially reticent about getting each other off.

The careful investigation Andrea conducted of my horns, on the other hand, was almost scientific, and she also seemed to take particular note when my ability to store long term memory resumed. It wasn't a sharp divide, and I coasted for a bit at first, but she caught on right away when I started to refer to things that had happened more than half an hour previous. Once she had, she would ask me questions about how I was feeling about my changes, and how difficult I found it to focus.

There was something unsettling about it, but I didn't see any reason for actual alarm and I answered honestly about everything except on topics that might reveal my interest in the science underlying my transformation. That entailed some exaggeration of how much time I spent going bovine while being milked, but she accepted my self-reports without any signs of skepticism, and the way she treated me like a favorite pet reassured me that she hadn't discovered my secret from me or from Nikki.

It wasn't that I was afraid of Andrea, but I was nevertheless quite relieved to be thought of as a pet rather than... whatever she would have thought of me otherwise.

The Red Owl

I had successfully responded to a message from REDOWL during my insensible fortnight, but didn't remember it, obviously, so it was a surprise to me when I got a follow-up message saying that I needed to remain at the shop as long as necessary until a series of apprehensions were completed. Fortunately the important directives were repeated in the new message rather than being lost to amnesia, but I was still very anxious to be so short on context regarding what exactly what was going on.

Adding to my anxiety was Nikki's taking ill with symptoms of an incipient CHANGE. Trapped as we both were at the shop without the support of the rest of the Squad, and with me forbidden to tell anyone why we were at the shop all weekend, I found myself taking care of her instead of her taking care of me. It strained my mental faculties considerably, but I did my best.

FBI raids of the mafia-affiliated clinic were reported on by local media and were quite a relief. Finally the whole ordeal would begin to come to close soon, or at least, I felt like I could see the end coming in more concrete terms. I did wonder why WITSEC agents didn't come to take charge of me as a witness, but I was also glad they didn't take me away from Nikki, who was really feeling very poorly.

My mental incapacity did not extend to blocking me from investigating first my own oncogenic viruses and then, as Nikki's symptoms worsened, hers as well. It was a sort of relief to confirm that she was indeed undergoing a CHANGE, so that she needn't go to the hospital. It also answered some questions I'd had as I'd attempted to confirm the role of non-human DNA in my samples, because I found the same genes in hers. I also found the signature of what I was pretty sure were adapter proteins. The most prevalent DNA, however, wasn't something I'd seen before, with a cas12a cleavage flow terminated immediately thereafter by an autoligation sequence. I thought perhaps a whole leg of a chromosome was being cut and pasted, like a guided meiotic recombination, but I didn't have the correct kind of sequencer to check. Regardless, it was a very different kind of edit than I'd previously encountered.

One other difference was that there was a new satellite virus accompanying Nikki's new CHANGE, but none for either of our previous treatments that had given us bovidae genes. I found the minimiviruses and their payloads, but no new satellites. I didn't want to believe it at first and hoped that I had just missed it, but after a while I had to admit the truth: someone had made a mimivirus engineered to use our existing satellite viruses. That meant that the maker of the new mimivirus either had access to the original CHANGE oncogenic viruses, or they had been working with serological samples from Nikki and myself for some time. Or both.

I hoped the FBI raids meant they had found and arrested this person or people, but that the clinic and mobsters were somehow directly related to the attack that could have killed me and my former coworkers was newly unsettling, and the continued failure of WITSEC to come get us, or at least me, made me wonder what was really going on. Wouldn't it be time for me to give my official testimony, now that warrants had been served, indictments made, and all that? What was the delay?

I was so keyed up that I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone knocked on the warehouse door at 2am Sunday morning. Many frightening scenarios flashed across my mind, but then I heard Andrea calling my name from the other side.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" I asked, pulling Andrea into a one-armed hug because my other was devoted to maintaining control of my naked milk factories.

"I'm okay... Why are you wearing that?"

"What?" I looked down at my nearly naked body to try to understand what she was talking about, contorting my body and shifting my boobs to try to see anything beyond them. "Do you mean my boots? Being barefoot is really uncomfortable."

"I mean the leash," she said, pointing at my neck, "And the cuffs".

"Oh! The leash is so I don't wander off after getting milked, because Nikki's too sick to watch me. And the cuffs are to keep me from trying to take off the milkers during milking."

Andrea nodded her head without much surprise and was already looking around the warehouse. "Where is Nikki?"

"I have her back in the milking room where it's warmer."

"How is she doing?" Andrea asked, sounding anxious.

"She's fine; just tired now."

"Why didn't you take her to the doctor?" Andrea asked.

"Oh, it was just a thing," I said stupidly, but was still proud of myself for remembering not to just blurt out anything I knew about the cause of Nikki's condition.

Andrea turned back to fix me with a serious look. "Bubbles, do you know what this is?" She held out to me a design I'd never seen before, with a stylized logo of a red owl outlined in DNA strands.

"Where did you find this?" I said with wide eyes.

"I'll explain in a moment, but let's get into the milking room," Andrea said, looking around as if there might be someone spying on us. "We'll make it look like I'm setting you up to get milked, then the sound of the machine should give us some privacy.

"Nikki's in there, though," I pointed out.

"That's probably okay," Andrea said. "How's her memory?"

"She was still exhibiting anterograde amnesia last I checked, but I think she'll be coming out of it soon. Maybe 12 to 24 more hours, I'd guess. I don't know why mine lasts so much longer than hers." I belatedly realized that I'd just ruined my attempt at subterfuge, such as it was. Well, Andrea already had some kind of REDOWL logo in her possession, so presumably she already knew more than I did about it.

"That is a question, isn't it?" Andrea said, cracking a smile as she hooked me into the milker. "I really wish I could have been working with you openly all this time."

"Wait, you were Deandra before!" I said triumphantly once the milker was started, "You've changed again since I saw you at the WITSEC facility!"

She nodded, "The crazy thing is that I haven't figured out who you were yet."

"Oh, I was basically just a technician. I don't actually remember my name, but I think it might have been Kenzie."

"Like Mackenzie Cummins?" she asked.

"Yeah! That sounds right!" I said. "So you're REDOWL? Or, how does that work?" I said, another, much less palatable possibility occurred to me.

"Humph, you weren't just a technician, Kenzie, you were a capable scientist, if a bit, hmm, unimaginative. You've made good use of your new neurons, though, and might yet have become truly brilliant. The only thing I don't understand is... if you were Kenzie, then who was Nikki?" Andrea asked in puzzlement, but then shook her head and set the mystery aside and took out a familiar-looking syringe. "Regardless, you might say I'm taking over REDOWL. I really am sorry we couldn't work together Kenzie, or Bubbles. You've figured out far more than I would have expected. But obviously, that's causing me some real problems, and now I have to do some risky things. If I'm successful, maybe we'll meet again, and you'll even thank me, if you remember any of this. I sort of hope you do; it would be a shame if this ruins your wonderful mind at last."

"What's going to happen to me?" I said, feeling extremely stupid to have allowed her to lock me to the milking harness.

"Nothing bad, probably. You like Nikki, don't you? And trust her?"

"Yes," I said, terrified, "Please don't do anything to her! She doesn't really know about any of this!"

"I know that, Bubbles. I'm just making sure that there's a foundation for coparenting. Now, I'm aware that I'm being one of those stereotypical villains who explains all her plans because she thinks the heroine is powerless to stop them, but I genuinely like you, and also you are definitely powerless to stop my plans. Or if you aren't, they will fail anyway."

"What are you talking about?"

"All those mobsters and FBI agents are gong to be experiencing a CHANGE, and so are those who are going to arrest me. REDOWL has been harder to nail down, but I think I've got them, too. And, by studying you, I've gotten a pretty good idea of why some people experience retrograde amnesia and some don't. And I've made sure they will. With any luck, no one is going to be able to prove anything against me and they'll have to let me go. Then I'll come back and make sure you're okay."

"Why?" I asked, though I could already feel the effects of the injection. It wasn't a CHANGE, though. I was just feeling incredibly horny and it was becoming difficult to think. Though that could also have just been because Deandra had attached me to the milker.

"I'll explain it when we meet again, sweet. I don't have time now and I expect you wouldn't remember later anyway."

She was correct, because I have no recollection of anything she did after that.

-Aftermath-

The Next Day

I immediately knew it wasn't literally one day from when Deandra had injected me to when I emerged from my morning milking daze, even though it felt like I was just waking from a nice sleep. I had a number of different clues, such as the addition of a fancy new screen to the wall in front of the milking bench, and the upgraded refreshments fridge.

Also new was being somewhere in the third trimester of pregnancy.

I noticed that when while reacting to something else new, which was that someone had just finished coming inside me. Nikki. This was Nikki's baby, and Nikki presumably fucked me often, based on the lack of surprise I felt as I reached that conclusion. Probably I had reached the conclusion many times before but was never able to store that fact in long term memory. All I was left with was a habit of thought, which thought of as being taken doggy style during milking as completely normal, and very enjoyable.

"Good girl Bubbles," Nikki said, petting my head as I mooed appreciation. On the screen in front of me a nature documentary played, in one window while a control panel showed my milk output in another. "They'll never even get close, at this rate."

It took me a moment to really accept what I was seeing. I'd just produced 3.8 liters of milk, which was, according to the control panel, 19.5% of my daily average output, 18.7% of yesterday's, and 55.9% of the 'herd average' production. Many things about my situation failed to shock me, but this was unsettling even if I somehow already knew it to be true.

"Do you want to stay in here or go out with the others?" she asked.

Somehow I knew that straining against my bonds was the signal that I wanted to go, and remaining still meant I wanted to stay and rest. I did the latter so I could get my wits about me a bit more.

Nikki sat with me to watch the nature video, continuing to stroke my body with affectionate inattention while I waited to see if I'd be able to retain my train of thought this time, or if my apparent mental recovery would give way to forgetfulness again. In the meantime I contemplated what Deandra must have done. First, the CHANGE Nikki had been experiencing had been the production of male sexual organs, and obviously they were at least moderately functional given my advanced pregnancy. I could even see how the cleavage-ligation sequence was designed to create a segmented X chromosome with an SRY insertion, which could allow it be epigenetically activated as a Y in order to produce a new set of genitalia, though I was a little uncertain how it could be done without impacting the existing genitals.

Another conclusion was that Deandra could likely induce a CHANGE in anyone who had ever eaten my ice cream. It might not work entirely, but it would at least start, and in the process cause significant intellectual deficits. How significant and in what form she could probably control to some extent. If she had been arrested by the FBI, would she have been able to disable enough of them to destroy the case against her?

Well, here I was at least six months later with no signs of WITSEC or anyone else having shown up to reverse our transformations, so that was a negative indicator for a successful prosecution.

"Moo-ooo-ooo?" I asked Nikki, though I'd intended to ask if she knew where Andrea was.

"Again?" she asked, sounding surprised. Something massive pulsed to life under her satin dressing gown.

I couldn't take my eyes off the massive horse cock that burst forth once the silk fabric below her waist parted to reveal the sight that I must have seen many times before, because it was so familiar. I also knew that of course it had fit into me many times. But how? Though wasn't truly a horse's prick in shape, the size definitely justified the descriptor that had leapt to mind when it had emerged: twice the diameter of any reasonable human penis, and approaching twice as long while I watched.

I didn't get to determine what maximum length it would achieve because Nikki moved out of sight behind me in order to use it.

"I wonder if it's the baby making you so horny, Bubbles? I wish we could remember better how things were before. You must have been so smart," she said, talking more to herself than to me. "Maybe if I fuck you really good then you'll have one of your good days and we can talk about things. You would like that, wouldn't you?" She said it like she was talking to a beloved dog, or a cow as the case might be.

I made an agreeable noise, and she laughed as if amused at the ridiculous proposition that I might understand her words. Nevertheless, she applied herself to being a good lover, massaging as much of my breasts as she could, and taking short, leisurely strokes with her cock, only going as deep as my advanced pregnancy would allow. A small mirror on the floor showed that she was watching my expressions carefully to monitor my comfort and enjoyment, and the feeling of being loved and cared for made me so, so happy. My memory faded out a bit as I approached climax, but I do recall the tail end of my orgasm, gasping as my teats squirted cream into the milker.

"I can't wait until that bed arrives," Nikki said as she wiped up the cum pouring out of my vagina, "It'll still be a bit awkward with your belly and the straps and all, but I think it'll still be better to be able to do it face-to-face, don't you think?"

She didn't expect an answer, so my moo of assent made her laugh again. "Okay, are you ready to join your sisters?"

Given that I wasn't able to speak and I was very interested in learning who these 'sisters' might be, I nodded agreement. Evidently this level of comprehension wasn't unusual from me, because it didn't surprise her at all. She just strapped me into a belly support garment and helped me stand up.

I didn't have any trouble standing like that, somewhat to my surprise given how much of me was in front of me. A bigger challenge was actually seeing where I was going, because my belly and the torso band of the belly supporter both forced my breasts to rest higher. As a result, the tops of my incredible milk factories rose to chin level, and the cow-print fabric of my top that stretched between them made terra incognita of the floor. Nikki was leading me by hand, so I trusted there wouldn't be anything to trip over, but I was entirely dependent on her.

Outside the milking room was another, larger milking area, occupied by a bank of milkers and a baker's dozen women in similar case to myself. Not that similar; only one was visibly pregnant and none were so heavily endowed, but their breasts looked rounded and moved elastically like mine, as if they also enjoyed boobs lightened by euphoric gas. And of course they were lactating copiously while mooing in ecstasy.

Not all of them. Some appeared to be enjoying a post-milking rest, and mooed their welcome to me drowsily. Only one demonstrated her capacity for speech. "Good morning Miss Nikki, good morning Bubbles."

"Good Morning Juni," Nikki answered. I mooed my greeting as well, too accustomed to my inability to speak to be embarrassed by it.

"Miss Angel was by earlier to pick up her milk and said she made sure all the empties she dropped off were already sterilized."

"Good, thank you Juni. Though no one actually got sick, so I'm not too worried."

"Yeah, I mean, if it literally cures cancer, who can complain?" Juni said. "People should be glad that the pasteurizer wasn't up to snuff."

"Well, the Department of Health would say otherwise, and we can't prove that it was Bubbles' milk that cured the cancer," Nikki said. "At some point someone is going to make the connection between Bubbles bars and changes I'm hoping the last Bubbles Bars from before we fixed the pasteurizer are gone before then."

Juni laughed. "There's lots of changes out there that have nothing to do with our bars. I mean, look at me! But it'll be so great if they do make a connection but blame it all on copycats with lower quality control."

Nikki shook her head as she inspected the other cowgirls. "I don't want anything blamed on anyone. I just hope everyone who experienced changes enjoys them."

"I'm enjoying them," Juni said, stroking her own breasts as she sucked at one of my nipples.

"Juni! You're supposed to ask."

"What, even for nipple sucking?" Juni asked in surprise.

"Well, if that's all you're doing, I guess it doesn't matter. But if you're going further it's just nice to model consent."

Juni laughed as if she found this ridiculous. "Come on, Nikki, Bubbles is the original cowgirl. She always consents."

"Well, that might change any day, so I still want you to ask, Juni. Understand?"

Juni recognized the seriousness in Nikki's voice, and solemnly agreed that she would ask in the future.