10 chapters published, 10 more until the end. Gumdrop’s story has reached its turning point, in more ways than one… Also, a new kind of pet is going to appear soon, so stay tuned!
As absurd as the concept of a hucow is, I tried to take it quite seriously, to delve in the psychology of a hucow and her owner, in search of what this admittedly strange fetish means, at least to me. Therefore, beside the tropes of the genre (kinky sex, humiliation and de-humanization), you will find the musings of a young girl who chooses to become a cow in a quest for true love and a place in the world. I hope that the result is an original and refreshing take on the matter.
All kinds of feedback are appreciated, especially those about grammar, as English is not my first language.
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11. Not as cool as it used to be
If we had known what Penelope had in store for Cream Pie, we probably would have gone down on her more than once. When the crop woke us up the next day, after our second nap, I already knew who was holding it. Standing at our hind-hooves, Penelope was looking at her cows with a bright smile. The barn was otherwise devoid of people.
“Come on girls, time to produce me some milk!”
Apart from the strength of the whipping, all proceeded as normal. We were milked, put to work on the yokemill, milked again and fed a double ration of semen. Before we could go grazing or be mounted either by the stable boys or some early client, Penelope stopped the newbie and knelt in front of her.
“I realized that I had made a terrible mistake, Cream Pie. I know that you are not ready yet to be mounted, but I never put some protection on your pussy to ensure that it would be that way.” she said, looking at her encouragingly “We are going to remove it as soon as you feel you can do it, alright darling?”
She did not wait for an answer and fastened something to her golden pussy rings. I imagined that it was one of the rubber protections we rarely used when Aidan did not trust a guest to use a condom when cumming in our vaginas. My guess was a near miss and somehow still a huge one. It was a protection all right, as we discovered once outside, but it was made of rigid metal and was covered in tiny and sharp metal spikes. A couple of soft plastic wings protected her inner thighs from being scratched. It was a simple, but effective, chastity belt. Cream Pie had to ask for it to be removed in order to pee, forcing her to do it in front of people all the time, contrarily to what she had done the previous day, when she would sneak outside to relieve herself in privacy. That was not the worst part, though. We all knew that she was going to go crazy without climaxing for a whole day. No matter how much we tried, it was impossible to perform any kind of stimulation that did not result at best in a cruel tease. Penelope had just found a very fast and sly way to complete Cream Pie training.
She won over her embarrassment of doing her business in public quite fast, hopefully spurred by me and Cupcake doing it in the most undignified way in front of her, like when we walked. We had hoped to make her understand she had nothing to be ashamed of. We were all very proud of her, when she found her confidence.
Her battle against her libido lasted very little too, but this time she lost, after only two days. After that, for a couple of weeks, Penelope transitioned her to have two clients per day, while still keeping her pussy locked the rest of the time. She even had the stable hands milk her more slowly and with pauses, to avoid her to cum through the pumping. In a month, she was being pimped out regularly as much as us. I had to admit that this technique worked wonders. Since her clients were her only way to alleviate her frustration, Cream Pie had the best possible experiences with her firsts, because she actively sought sex with them. This allowed a girl who had never thought about prostituting herself until very recently, to ease in the life as smoothly as possible. Now, like us, she was usually enjoying or, at the very least, tolerating, that aspect of being a hucow and her clients must have enjoyed her a lot too, because they usually kept her busy the longest.
“Penelope has a real talent for rearing hucows.” Aidan confessed to me one day, after these events, “She saw immediately through Reagan: she patiently cast a lure with the photo-op, to make her familiar with hucows and yet convincing her that modeling did not provide easy money like she had hoped and then she set up a trap, hiring her for the lap dance of the inauguration, making her venture in sex-work and swim in the left-over cash involved in the business. After that, all she had to do was wait and the girl came to her asking for this job. It’s genius!”
I mooed aghast. So his wife really had manipulated my friend!
“I know how it looks, but consider the alternative. Reagan was not going to pay her debts with a modeling job, not as canlı bahis a beginner. She would end up dead, or worst, by the hands of her dealer, either through drugs or by brute force.” he defended himself “On the other hand, look at her. She’s fine, she’s been clean longer than ever, she’s getting genuinely rich and she seems happy.”
Cream Pie was now wrestling with Cupcake after she had played a prank on her that involved patiently putting a bunch of straws through the blond cow’s hair with her mouth during her nap. They were both moo-giggling. I was not sure I agreed with him, but I knew for certain that Aidan had the best intentions. He would never had let me become a hucow, had he not firmly believed that it would be a good thing for me.
The fact was, however, that Penelope was weird with her and increasingly so with time. At the beginning, she had started to make Cream Pie eat her pussy, like she required from us from time to time. One day, however, a few days after my conversation with Aidan, Cream Pie came back from the breeding room without her cream blue-ribboned tail and told us, in our cow language that she now mastered, that she had had the weirdest experience with Penelope.
The woman had used a strap-on to fuck her in the ass. I was bewildered, but Cupcake did not seem to find it strange at all. We looked at her and I guess she felt cornered, because she gazed back at us, a little shyly, in a way that said, in the most casual tone, “what, you have never been fucked with a strap-on”? While she was playing with her dreads in the cute way that I had learned to associate with embarrassment, I asked Cream Pie for further details, but the effort I made to understand her miming proved pointless, as the very next day I would see with my own eyes.
“On the floor, cow!” she hissed as soon as we entered the breeding room with the hay bed, adding a painful stroke of the crop for good measure.
She liked to be spiteful with us. With a few more lashes she directed me towards the yoke and tied me there, bull ring included. Unable to see what was happening behind, I could just deduce from the fumbling noises that she was undressing. A stinging pain in my asshole! She had removed my tail in the most hurtful way, the bitch. Something was vibrating, but the idea that it was for my benefit never crossed my mind. A foreign object was now entering my butt-hole. A dildo? No, I felt the heat from her naked thighs on my hindquarters. It was the strap-on!
“You just stay there, you open your filthy, piss-soaked legs, and let anyone in, don’t you?” she murmured, panting, as she pounded my asshole from behind. Not knowing how to react, I just bellowed a generic moo. She must have liked it, because she hit me with the crop. Every time she lashed me, I mooed and rocked back and forth, in order to help her dildo invade my bowels.
“You disgusting animal, you got it easy, your life, huh? You open your legs and that’s pretty much it!” she continued
I could hear the vibrations stimulating her pussy behind the dildo. By then, as any good hucow, I was used to being humped in my main fuck-hole (the asshole) that way, without any other sexual stimulation. I had grown to enjoy it, even though it did not give me so much pleasure, but that day I was in hurry: I wanted to try Aidan’s new cow bath too! The minutes passed… Damn it, how much longer?
As I formulated that thought, she finally came. As usual, afterwards she thanked me and kissed lovingly the length of my spine. I mooed with fake joy. She got dressed again and freed me.
When I was back to the stables, the other two cows were already cheerfully swimming and splashing water. I felt a tinge of jealousy. I had become close to Cream Pie too and I liked her, but I had also learned that what I had with Cupcake was, and would always be, on a whole other level. I could not have almost telepathic conversations with the new cow. I had naively assumed that eventually it would happen, that the uncanny capability of understanding each other that I shared with Cupcake was just the product of our very unique environment and limitations, but it was not. She was just special, at least for me. So, if at first I had been happy that there would be Cream Pie for her to spend time with, when I sneaked out in Aidan’s company, now I had more mixed feelings and sometimes I even felt excluded. Anyway, I tried my best to be happy for my fellow herd members. I had Aidan and they had the right to have someone too. In this spirit, I dived in the pool and splashed them silent. At least until they splattered me back, in roaring vengeance.
With the coming of winter, we were going to spend more and more time inside even though, thanks to global warming, it was not as cold as it used to be, like my elderly neighbor from my previous life never ceased to remind me whenever I went out with shorts. For this reason, Aidan had deemed it necessary to provide us with some indoor pass-time that was suitable for cows. He had then conceived bahis siteleri the “swimming bull”, a pool for hucows. He wanted it to look as similar as possible to something that could be found in a facility to wash livestock. I had to say that it did.
It was a rectangular basin carved in ugly raw concrete, roughly as big as a couple of twin beds put together. Its walls looked rough and were painted with a series of shallow, dark brown shades randomly mixed, so that the water, which was kept in constant turbulent motion to make it turbid, looked quite filthy. Aidan, ever detail-oriented, had also used a sanitizing process that did not employ chlorine, which would have given away the cleanness of the water with its typical smell of swimming pool. On the contrary, he had managed to find an artificial aroma that made it smell of mud and, faintly, of shit. To get in and out, there was ramp or, if you felt like having a bit of an entrance, like myself, you could just walk in it and enter paradise: the water, reaching our chests, was warm and bubbling and it felt like being in a jacuzzi, if you managed to ignore its smell. It was not so different from going to a thermal pool and pretend it does not smell like eggs.
The day of its inauguration, we were so lucky that all the three of us had a whole time slot without customers to try it out. I had missed going to the seaside ever since the disaster, and having a bath with my friends brought me back a happy part of my childhood. Aaron stood on the brim of the pool to watch over us. From time to time we made fun of the poor guy by pretending that we were drowning. In time, we had learned a surprising truth: even though it was Kam the witty one, he would be only if he was in control, if he was the one dispensing the laughs. When you overstepped with him, he could be quite strict. On the other hand, while more timid and more serious-looking, Aaron was less capable of maintaining the discipline, and we shamelessly took advantage of that.
“You know, you’re right, why would I do what I’m paid for and watch you? I bet that those melons of yours would keep you afloat anyway!” he mocked us.
I and Cupcake looked at each other pretending to gasp for the outrage, as if we did not like the idea of having melon-sized udders.
“Don’t you dare! I’m serious!” Aaron warned us, sensing what was about to happen, in vain, because he had not even finished the sentence, that we were already splashing him. Cream Pie had not joined us, because, as a newbie, she did not yet have that kind of confidence with our stable hands.
Aaron did punish us, but afterwards our asses, albeit sore, were in much better shape than after Fergie’s disciplining, for instance. Cream Pie, instead, got herself a sweet treat and was positively smug.
“I’m glad that you did not buy in this herd behavior.” Aaron was praising her, as he corralled us for milking. I and Cupcake stuck our tongues out to her when he was not watching.
We used the pool almost every day, because at a certain point it was too cold for us to go out at all and we spent all of our time in our warm stable or in the breeding rooms. The covered trail that led to them had now acquired heavy plastic curtains that isolated it from the corral and allowed it to be heated up. A cow-jukebox was brought in the barn too. The lack of movement due to this situation, had prompted Aidan to increase our exercising time with the yoke. All in all, we were kept quite busy.
The popularity of the farm had grown with our production of milk and with the size of our boobs. Both I and Cream Pie now finally had real udders and we were getting close to Cupcake’s size. I was so happy about it, that I even welcomed the back pains due to their massive weight. Moreover, thanks to Aidan’s idea of increasing the pressure on the pumps, our nipples had grown too, little by little. All of this attracted more clients, making the addition of Cream Pie inconsequential for our work load. Aidan had to set up more breeding rooms. I think that he had recruited Aaron for that, because he was always hanging around, even if it was not his shift and disappeared a lot when it was. Sometimes I wondered if he had a life outside the farm.
Even though one would have thought he was now used to success, Aidan was beyond satisfied. I guess it had more to do with me than money, because he was spending almost as much time in the hay with us as we did. He would just lie there, caress me, do my hair, decorate me with cute hair clips, temporary tattoos of various type of candy or glitter, all the while talking to me about how much I made him happy and proud, or about his stuff, mostly regarding the human pet community he was now a big part of.
Between this and the growth of my udders, my dreams had finally come true. Indeed, one day I was summoned for breeding. Big deal, I was every day, right? Yes, but this time it happened when I was due for milking. This could mean only one thing: I would be finally be milked bahis şirketleri by hand! As Cupcake and Cream Pie mooed the equivalent of “you go girl!”, I proudly walked with Kam to the breeding room I had since failed to visit, the one where the client pretended to be my farmer.
He was a short, mousy type, but I did not care: I was too excited. As he slid his cock, which fortunately was neither short nor mousy, in my welcoming asshole and started squeezing my nipples, milk came out in the big wooden bucket below me, just the way it was supposed to be. It was glorious: he kept ramming inside of my fuck-hole, the other one becoming wetter and wetter, my nipples sending waves of pleasure through my body and I mooed, not because I wanted to do anything a person would do with their voice, like moan or shriek in pleasure, and ended up with a bovine bellow instead; no, I was mooing because I needed to feel with every fiber of myself that I was a cow. When I came, I had only one thought: I wanted Aidan to do this to me as often as possible.
My wish was soon granted. Every day, unless he was traveling, Aidan came in the morning to have breakfast with me. Not with me in the sense that he was in my company, as I had no more human meals and I was fed fake sperm throughout the day. I mean with me as in using me to obtain it. He just put me on the milking rig, with a bucket under my udders in place of the pumps, had me suck his cock until it was well erect, and then fuck me in the ass while he milked me and I mooed in ecstasy. When he was in a good mood, he also let me bring him to orgasm in my mouth afterwards. In any case, he just sat in front of me afterwards and drank my milk in front of me, allowing the cow to see how tasty her juice was for her owner.
Anyway, I did not want his doting so much on me get me in trouble with my herd, and so I urged him to pay more attention to the others. He did not need much incentive. Since they had no particular emotional connection with theirs, he replaced Cupcake’s and Cream Pie’s bells with two custom ones resembling respectively an upside down ramekin containing a cupcake and a whipped cream swirl. Also, he thought that it would be nice to uniformize our themed tattoos, by adding one on my left butt-cheek and one just above Cupcake’s mound, so that each of us would have one in both places.
“So, for you, Gumdrop, I would use a raunchy pun about candy. I came up with “FREE eye candy” or “I’m easier than stealing candy to a kid”.” he said, showing me two manipulated photos of me that gave a preview of the result.
I moo-giggled, my head on his lap.
“You like them, huh?”
I mooed cheerfully.
“So, which one do you like best: the first?” he said, and I gave a moo of approval, “Or the second?” and I did it again. I was undecided!
Cupcake then intervened, putting her nose on the first. She was lying on her stomach, her head resting on Aidan’s lap opposite mine.
“She does have a nice ass, doesn’t she?” commented Aidan, as Cupcake confirmed with a lewd moo “Well, what do you think, Gumdrop?”
I mooed my agreement. Cupcake’s opinion about the cuteness of my hindquarters was as important to me as Aidan’s.
“Good, now let’s see about Cupcake! Since your contract does not allow me to tattoo you without your approval, you can get none, but I think I came up with the perfect one for you!”
He showed another mock photo, this time portraying Cupcake. Between her hips a classy script that seemed to have been taken from an old book of recipes read “… and finally fill your cupcake” and continued on a second line, just above her bush “with cream!”. I burst in a moo-laugh, making her blush.
“So, what do you think?”
She mooed uncertainly, her hoof playing with her dreads, but I started teasing her with my moos. I did not have to insist much before she reluctantly mooed yes.
“Great!” said Aidan, getting up “So we’ll do it tomorrow!”
Cupcake covered a little her face with one hoof, making a shy and cute smile and prodded my shoulder with the other, mooing in a way that clearly said playfully “This is all you fault!”. I mooed naughtily with great satisfaction and kissed her. Somehow, it felt good to know that, no matter what, when there was crazy shit to be done, we would do it together.
Things changed just before new year’s eve. Of course, none of us had any idea of what the date might be: cows do not know anything about calendars, except that there are seasons. It was Aidan who, indirectly, told us:
“Ok, girls, I need you to stay awake a little longer, ” he said, whipping energetically our hindquarters a few times before one of our naps “because today I want you to introduce you to my employee, that will act as a new stable hand and… Well, you’ll see at the new year’s eve party.”
We all mooed interestedly. A new stable boy? Would he be sexy and young as the other two? Were we going to have a party? All these questions were buzzing in our heads until Penelope entered the barn with the newcomer, shutting them all down to a shocked silence. She was walking beside the stable hand, sure, but the new employee was no boy. It was a woman in her mid thirties and had the coolest look.