I don't remember the first time I came across lactation porn. I feel like it's always been there and I only got to indulge once I lived out on my own. I loved the idea of my body being forced to produce milk, completely bypassing any thoughts or feelings. I surrendered to my body and the person manipulating it. The new names for my parts created a separation between my normal self and the self that diminishes when I'm being induced. I have udders, I have teats. My 'let down' doesn't come naturally- i need to be pumped on a schedule created for me. When it works, things balance out perfectly. When I'm with the right person our boundaries are firm- I'm not treated like the hucow that I am behind closed doors. 

Sometimes it didn't work. It's disappointing, but fine. I have small ways of indulging that still makes it enjoyable, like putting myself out on imagefap and browsing photos and profiles. I love writing about it. I'm unsure if I want to meet other hucows, but for now, what I see online satisfies me.

About writing- I have a short list of the times being a hucow has worked, and a few things I wish could work:

I was 18 and met someone online who was into this. I had the time to focus on it, so I took fenugreek, massaged my chest, and even used hospital grade pumps. Our time together had just the right amount of objectification- I loved our sessions. I'd be on my hands and knees, my sensitive udders grazing the floor. He'd wrap his whole hand around them, squeezing gently, using his free fingers to coax the milk drops out.

I briefly lived with a woman whom I opened up to about this. For a few weeks every morning, she'd sit at the kitchen table, tell me to take off my shirt and bra, and massaged my chest. Her warm hands went up and down my long udders. The most that ever came from it were a few days of moisture coming from my teats.

We didn't play long enough for any results, but someone else did the same after placing me on a makeshift rack. He called it my milking stall. We fantasised about buying a goat milker.

My ex and I had more of a D/s relationship. I occasionally slept in a collar. When we were in bed together he'd tug on my udders a bit, telling me he'd stretch my teats someday. 

Now that it's a solo venture it's not as intense, but I still enjoy it in small ways. I look up Farrel drawings and fantasise that I'd be objectified. I like the idea of my udders being modified to have longer teats, and even have saggier ones. When I think about my milking, I never have full udders. I steadily produce as  they get longer and longer from being weighed down by suction tubes.

When my nipples get darker around my time of the month, I admire them. I pull on my own teats and enjoy the temporary stretch. I love my visible veins. I alternately tug on my udders, trying to recreate the feeling of milking tubes.

When I'm home alone, I take my clothes off and get on all fours. I press my chest to the floor to push my genitals out to the air- I gently graze my floor with my dark buds. 

I don't really have a pregnancy fetish- i just love how dark and wide women's areolae get. I love to suckle, but have never tasted milk. 

Being a hucow is an escape and surrender. My body works of its own accord- and the only control exerted is by another person. I love that it's forced to change to something that's not aesthetically pleasing, but reflects how I see my hucow self. When I slip into it i am nothing but my stretched udders and my milk production. I have no control, my body is being changed for me.