I went through as many hucow stories as I could find and still wanted more, so I decided to write one of my own. Much as I love attention, I do have anxiety around putting this much of my own out there. It's funny- pictures of my nude body are fine, but god forbid that anyone see what I write beyond my arousal driven two-liners.

 I submitted this to Literotica and was rejected, which is fine. ASSTR doesn't appear to be taking submissions, so I'll leave my lengthy and not likely spell or grammactically checked story. I'm not a professional writer- I just do it for my own amusement.

Anyway:

Zoe was having an episode.

She had been managing her bipolar disorder for three years. Prior to that, from age 20 to 26, the world felt big and wild and hers to play in. Zoe had more ups than downs- she wouldn’t sleep for days but kept up with everything at work.  There were dates with different people at least three times a week. Her three martini rule became four when three wasn’t enough to calm down. Four sometimes kicked off spending sprees. Though she was fairly conservative, $100 managed to balloon to $1000 after every two weeks.

So long as she was up, she could live a life of zero consequences.

When she hit a long enough calm period, reality settled in. Bills in the four digits were piling up. Months of dirty laundry were strewn about her apartment. There were no second dates. She found an eviction warning on the floor when she attempted to clean up.

What was really a snap decision to get well was the best she made. She could focus at work for she was finally sleeping. Dates were scattered and were only taken with two martinis. She allowed herself a little fun.

Once her finances were straightened out and she was able to save up, she decided to start freelancing, building on a small pool of clients she already had.  It had been a difficult few months transitioning from 9-5 work to making her own hours. Though things were starting to fall into place, she managed to forget herself and all the work she put in to get stable.

One evening she noticed the walls were literally closing in. She decided to throw on a thin strapped tank top and black yoga pants to keep them at bay. She found that throwing things pushed them back a bit, but after an hour, that plan fell apart.

Her neighbors thought there was a break in. Loud thuds could be heard through the walls as if she were throwing things in defense. When the police arrived, breaking down the door that was in the same place the whole time, they found a young woman curled into herself, shaking, crying and grunting under a veil of greasy unwashed black hair.

—-

Zoé managed to mostly come down on her own, though the sedatives she was injected with got her back to normal. But she was still restrained to the high backed, vinyl upholstered ER chair,

On the off chance her wrists weren’t cuffed too tightly she pulled against the Segufix straps. She tried her ankles to no avail. Her movement must have caught someone’s attention in the hall as the door opened. Two large men immediately went for the restraints, trying to keep her extra still.

This was a bad sign. She knew she didn’t have this bad an episode. She was home alone, she didn’t go out and hurt anyone. No one told her she violently resisted arrest.

Zoé started yelling again, words this time.

“NO! I’M NOT GOING”

She tried to bend her knees but all it did was hurt. The man at her ankles became the man holding down her knees.

“I’M FINE. I’M FINE. I don’t need to be locked up! I’ll take my pills, PLEASE.”

Tears began to flow down her cheeks. She just wanted to be left alone.

Through her watery vision she a third person come in. A woman with brown hair and a lab coat slowly approached with a small smile on her face.

“Zoe,” she said, in an English accent. “Do stop this is, you’re making all of our lives harder.” After one more grunt she felt a needle in her arm and the water went black. She couldn’t hear her screams anymore.

——

The ceiling was teal. The ceiling was teal and she had a headache. She felt the Segufix restraints again but didn’t struggle.

She was so sleepy.

Zoe looked down and saw her top pulled down. Strung just under her breasts, the elastic pushed them up toward her neck. Her areolae were wrinkled, the cool air making it worse. How fucking embarrassing.

The brown haired woman appeared above her face.

“I’m going to position you to sit up, okay?” The gurney rose up, putting Zoé at a 90 degree angle. Her breasts slipped back down.

“Hnnnggg” Zoe’s tongue was thick, pushing up against her teeth in an attempt to speak.

“No, no, darling,” the woman said. “Cows don’t speak unless permitted.”

Cows? She wasn’t that psychotic- she heard ‘cows.’ Why was she being called a cow?

She pushed out a few more grunts and let her head fall back against the padding.

“I already know what questions you’ll have. I’m going according to your file,” she said, pulling up a chair.

“It’s just easier this way, more for you than me. I’m Doctor Nigella Mayfair- I’m in psychiatry. You’re in the psychiatric wing- well, sort of. It’s a wing that shall we say...forgotten?”

Zoé took in the woman seated next to her. She had beautiful brown eyes that matched the color of her thick hair. That accent...that smile. If they were bar patrons and not doctor and patient, Zoe would have bought her a drink.

“So, young lady- single, self-employed, no noted next of kin. We’re going to research this, but I doubt you have any family you keep in touch with. So you’re perfect.”

Dr. Mayfair smiled as she reached over and palmed one of Zoe’s breasts. The touch was gentle but professionally distant, like any other doctor’s.

“Perfect. So perfect.” She moved to handle the other.

Zoé wanted to pull away but her head still hurt and her body weighed a thousand pounds. She wanted to see the teal ceiling again.

“I’ll be back with something to calm you down. If you could talk, I’m sure you’d be screaming about your udders being bared like this.”

“Whaatt..” Zoe sluggishly replied. “Uddd—“

“Sh,sh,” Dr. Mayfair leaned in again, taking one of her breasts and lifting it up toward Zoe’s chin.

“You’ll be told what you only need to be told, and you’ll accept those answers without question. You are Zoe Cow, and cows do not speak unless permitted.”

The doctor unceremoniously let go of her breast, letting it slap against Zoe’s belly. She stared at the door, Zoe kept trying to form words, but never got past grunting.

Dr. Mayfair returned with a syringe in hand.

“You are a willful creature, aren’t you?” Zoe’s head lolled back, resolving herself to the incoming injection. She took a deep breath and succumbed to sleep.

——-

Elevator 3 to the Basement floor, then a short walk to the locked service elevator.

Dr. Nigella Mayfair smiled to herself as she made her way out of the wing.

‘Sort of.’ How funny.

She had never referred to the wing as ‘sort of.’

It was an accurate description. The small wing used to be part of the main psychiatric building as a demonstration floor for students. Time in that place stopped around the mid-90’s, when a new practice room was built. Some efforts were made to find it but were thwarted when they found themselves getting lost. They’d be a dark floor away from reaching it when they’d turn back, convinced it was just a joke.

Dr. Mayfair became the one to find it. A chance meeting and friendship with a member of the board let her in on the secret. By 2016 she was one of the few left who still had interest. At first look, she decided to get it running. Electricity and water were miraculously working; it would have been stupid to let it go into disuse.

‘Taking care’ of two orderlies was surprisingly easy. Though they were satisfied with their jobs, extra money from the head doctor could not be refused. They insisted the room existed before they came to work there. There was no Ward 1410.

The outdated pieces of equipment were left alone. There were a few large empty rooms with a small operating theatre. What still worked (it was about skill after all) was mostly centralized in one room. The rest remained empty except for one.

One that was finally filled.

——-

Zoe woke up without a burning sensation around her wrists and ankles. She was out of the Segufix straps and on her side, the way she slept when she was in her own bed. Newly alert, she tiptoed to the door, waiting to hear footsteps or even a murmur of voices.

Nothing- just the fluorescent light spilling in from the hallway. She turned the knob, expecting resistance but it turned all the way. She slowly opened the door, seeing that the light was the only one in the middle of a dark hallway. Pitch black to her left, and pitch black to her right.

She couldn’t be the only person here. It was a ward- how could it be used for just three people? It looked like they just left her there.

She dashed down the left side, forcing her eyes to adjust to the dark. Faint light spilled in from a window up ahead, revealing a set of double doors. Zoe crashed into the knobs, frantically turning them but to no avail. She slammed herself into it again, but was met with the sound of heavy footsteps running toward her.  Two sets of hands came out of the dark, grabbing Zoe by the arms and legs.

“STOP. STOP. FUCKING LET ME GO.” she shrieked as she tried to kick out. The lights in the hallway flicked on as another set of steps approached.

Dr. Mayfair’s echoed through the hall.  “How. Fucking. Stupid of you! Stand her up straight! Get a hand over her mouth!”

The doctor leaned in, stopping centimeters in front of her face.

“Zoe, Zoe, Zoe,” she murmured. “Stupid me to trust that 24 hours of sedation would be enough.”

The doctor pulled back, appraising the writhing thing growling from behind thick fingers. She could sedate her again. A stronger dose would keep her under for longer. When she would wake up, she’d be cognitive enough to eat from a feeding tube and fill a bedpan.

No, she wanted something long term. Perhaps it was too soon, but the young woman’s iron threatened the project.

“ECT. 6 rounds!”

Zoe stopped fighting immediately.

Six.

Eighteen sessions.

She had once come dangerously close meeting the criteria for electroconvulsive therapy. A violent episode while on the ward resulted in being put in a straightjacket for hours, slowly sedated to give her time to come down on her own. After one more upset she was told the next step wouldn’t be as simple as medication and restraints.

“And we’re starting now. I’ll get room E-3 ready!” Dr. Mayfair turned on her heel, fading into the semidarkness of the hall.

———

“FUCKING NO, PLEASE.”

“Honestly, are those the only words you know, little cow?” 

Zoe feebly kicked and screamed trying to crane her head up to see what Dr. Mayfair was doing. All she could see was her back. A piercing noise emanated from whatever was in front of her.

“As I said before, this is a ‘sort of’ ward,” the doctor said. “This also means ‘sort of’ standard practices.”

She forced a bite block into Zoe’s mouth; confident the young woman would keep it in for her own sake. She was taken by how much the girl kept fighting. Her illness might have been playing a part, but Dr. Mayfair suspected a deep-seated desire to live. She gently coated her temples with cold conductive jelly.

“I’m sure you were shown the procedure. Nearly all the patients on that locked ward you were on were allowed to watch in the theatre at least once.”

Yes. She watched as calm, quiet women and men were wheeled in wearing their street clothes. They were the day patients, admitted to a ward they never got to see. They could leave, unlike Zoe.

A small staff, Zoe’s own psychiatrist at the patient’s head, surrounded them. One administered the muscle relaxant, another the anesthesia. Their chests were bared only enough for the heart monitor pads. It was almost like watching an EKG taking place- the only evidence to the contrary being her doctor’s hands pressing the black wands to both sides of their heads.

“But this is about efficiency.”

Her voice cut through her reverie, bringing her back to the present. She was laid out on the table, stripped of her clothing. Still strapped, but not for long. The threads of the electrodes of her heart monitor grazed her nipples. The muscle relaxant was issued and her straps were removed.

She was going to be kept awake. A tear slid down the side of her face as her doctor put pressure to both sides of her head.

“Shame your new life has to start this way.”

A button was pushed and Zoe felt like she was on fire. She felt sparks going off between her temples, her body began to heat up and shake. A sharp scream came from behind the bit but it remained clamped in her mouth. 

A new life.

Three words crashed around her head until she felt herself slipping into a cool darkness.

—————

Midway through her treatment, Zoe begged for it to stop.

They stopped keeping her strapped to the gurney once she stopped being able to walk on her own. Supported between the two orderlies, she was shuffled into room E-3 three times a week and prepared for treatment.

“Please…” she said weakly. Her head would loll from side to side, not of her own volition.

“Zoe Cow, you know I can’t stop midway.” the doctor cooed, placing the anesthesia mask over her face. The girl earned this privilege during her last treatment once she showed signs of docility. The procedure didn’t physically affect her brain more than any other patient’s. It was just the pain that broke her down, making it emotionally difficult for herself.

Zoe groaned under the mask, blinking slowly until her eyelids shut.

“We’re almost there, cow.” the doctor whispered.

————

“Just give her milder sessions,” Dr. Mark Ingersoll absently twirled his pen, annoyed that his colleague went over his head by administering shock therapy.

“Small continuous currents won’t be so damaging, and the procedure will teach you some patience. John, don’t stay so quiet. You know this is the right course of action.”

Dr. John Rand leaned forward, pressing the tips of his fingers together.

“She’ll be fine.” he said quietly.

The three of them had been in each other’s orbits for a few years. Nigella had just published a study on combination treatments for mental illness in pregnant women. Mark, then head of psychiatry, read her paper and invited her to lunch to discuss her findings. Upon learning they both knew John, who was experimenting with forced lactation via electrical stimulus, he was brought into the fold.

“Human cows,” Mark proposed over drinks.  The afternoon light was fading over the rooftop bar. The place was noisy, but a good way to keep their conversation somewhat private.

“I have an anonymous client seeking to produce them from the psyche down.”

“It’s not like breast milk is so rare,” Nigella argued. “Why not just open a milk bank? Why go from a psychiatric angle?”

“They want to keep the hucows full time, don’t they?” asked John. “Why pay?”

“Exactly. I’m being offered quite a bit of money but can’t do this all myself. The three of us have quite a bit on each other, don’t we? I think our bond could make this work.”

They did. Nigella would get very attached to pregnant women, at points, compromising her study. Mark went into psychiatry on a power trip that showed no signs of slowing.  John’s experiments were performed consensually, but in the name of research, were unethical.

The three looked at each other and grinned. They trusted in each other enough to make the money,  and they distrusted enough to keep each other’s secrets.

“Excellent. Cheers to furthering our work.” They clinked glasses and drank deeply. The future seemed so bright.

————

Zoe tried to gauge how long she had been there. After every few sessions, however, she would forget and need to start over.

First was the morning meal replacement drink she sucked from a tube the orderlies held over her head. Water was brought next. But something was happening between feedings that shouldn’t remember. Next there was water…

and then…

laying down in Room E-3.

She was laying down in room E-3.

“Just lie down, Zoe Cow.”

Cow. Yes, she was Zoe Cow now. Her doctor said she was.

She was stripped of her clothing and pushed gently back onto the table. Her doctor, and sometimes two other men came into her line of vision. Between the three she was hooked to the heart monitor, had small electrodes placed on her temples and forehead, and a suction tube applied to each nipple. She would hear a low hum, then feel a pleasant buzzing around her head. The suction tubes came on- the gentle suction alternating.

She drifted in and out. She had vague memories of screams and pain in her head, but they didn’t matter. All that mattered were the soft hums and the suction on her nipples.

After her last session (which she thought was her fourth), she was taken past E-3 and into another room.  The new layout was confusing. It didn’t have the table she was laid on. Instead it had a large gynecology exam table flanked by two carts holding medical instruments she couldn’t identify. Her doctor was there, with her deep brown eyes and soft hair. Zoe was waiting to be prepared for that wonderful buzzing again. She wanted the confusion to go away.

“Come cow,” the doctor called. With some assistance Zoe climbed onto the table. Dr. Mayfair gently strapped her to the stirrups.

“Finally, we can start.”

The doctor squeezed the base of her breast and slid the needle in the space between her fingers. Zoe barely felt it.

“You see, dear, you are the first of your kind. You are going to be a full time hucow.”

Each nipple was injected with a needle. Zoe flinched but settled back quickly.

She unbuckled Zoe, allowing her to slide off. Just as she took her first step, the doctor placed her hand on her shoulder and pushed her down.

“Cows don’t walk on two legs until given permission. You’ll follow me like this.”

It was a short walk down the hall, just past E-3 again. Zoe’s nipples began to tingle. By near instinct she dropped down onto her chest to rub them on the cold floor. Dr. Mayfair looked on fondly.

“Yes, cow. Perfect practice. Soon they’ll be grazing without having to press onto the floor.”

How? Her breasts weren’t terribly big to start. Her breasts would never grow down, would they?

She was led into a room with deep red carpets and imposing furniture. Light streamed between the panels of the blackout curtains. Dr. Mayfair stepped aside, revealing a chrome machine with rubber ringed pumps that were larger than the ones that were used on her.

Her nipples kept tingling. Her udders started to throb. Zoe gave low moans as she pushed her chest into the carpet again, trying to find relief.

“This is going to help you with that pain, Zoe Cow. Here, kneel up.”

Zoe reared up, putting her parallel to the rack that held the tubes. Dr. Mayfair unhooked one and took one of Zoe’s breasts in her hand. The rubber made contact with her heated flesh. Her small nipple hardly felt the sides of the tubes.

With a loud click the tube roughly sucked in her nipple making the pain feel more excruciating. The shock must have been enough to cut through Zoe’s mental state- she pulled away from the machine and fell on her back. She started crawling backwards as she looked up at Dr. Mayfair.

“I’m not a cow. I’m not a cow! Get away from me! Who are you?” Her chest was on fire. She cried as she felt her breasts getting heavier and heavier. She couldn’t get up.

“STOP IT. HELP ME-“

A hand clamped over her mouth followed by a rubber mask. Her maniacal breathing was making her dizzy, though she continued to scream. While she struggled to breathe, Dr. Ingersoll dragged her back to the milking machine.

“Why did you think she’d stay docile, Nigella?”

Zoe’s breathing went shallow. She went limp in the arm of the man carrying her, the whirring sound of the machine filling her emptying head. She felt rubber meeting flesh again, but she couldn’t breathe…

…she didn’t want to breathe.

“Breathe in, darling,” Mark struggled to hold her with his free arm up to keep the tubes from popping off. “This will hurt a little, Zoe Cow.”

In an instant, her burning nipples were pulled in. The suction was so powerful that it pulled her up, landing in Dr. Mayfair’s arms. Zoe cried out but didn’t try to pull away. The pulling hurt, but the push gave some relief. After a few minutes, she thought she felt a bit of moisture on the trapped tips of her breasts.

The two stood over her, watching intently.

“The gas is a temporary fix. She’ll need more conditioning.”

“We should still continue.”

Dr. Ingersoll agreed.

“Zoe Cow,” he said as he bent closer to her. “When we pull you off the machine, your body is going to be much different. In fact, it’s going to be different from now on, do you understand?”

She nodded sleepily. She understood. Sort of. She understood the pull of her nipples and how they didn’t hurt anymore.

“When we pull these off, you’ll only know your body by your new cow parts.”

The machine was flicked off, but the cups were still locked around her nipples. Taking one in hand, he gently shook it, releasing the trapped air. She fell back into his lap, slowly opening her eyes. She saw her nipple was distended. The moisture she felt was a covering of white dots on the tip.

Milk. She was giving milk.

“Teats.” his fingers gently pulled on her stretched flesh.

“Udder.” he ran his hands over the meat of the breast, giving a light squeeze.

“Milk.” he took his still wet finger and ran it over Zoe’s tongue.

Milk. Her milk. Her udders were going to ache unless she was milked.

Her chest started to ache again. Zoe groaned in displeasure. She was led over to the desk and placed face-down, letting her udders hang over the edge. The machine was brought under her, the tubes were secured to her teats.

Dr. Ingersoll touched her new…teats.  Teat.  The word bounced around her clouded brain.

It felt good when he touched it.

The milk he gave her was good. She wanted to drink more.

And make more.

Perhaps the doctor would let her taste it again.

———

Human Zoe’s routine was just feeding and sedation. Sometimes she remembered things about her old life- a messy apartment, a rapid heartbeat, anxiety- but the memories went as quickly as they came.

Zoe Cow was awake, knowing only her cow body and how it pleased Dr. Mayfair. Her mind was a little less cloudy after she saw room E-3 less and less. She now looked forward to the hour when her udders were full. She was eager to be placed face down on the milking table, feeling the weight of her udders as they hung above the teat cups. She breathed deeply as the rubber tips were secured, and gave a moan of pleasure as the clicks and pulls began. She wished she could see how much filled the chrome tank. Dr. Mayfair said numbers in ounces and cups, but it was too confusing to process.  She just wanted to give milk.

Unless allowed, she was on all fours in every part of the ward she was taken to. The orderlies bathed her in the same manner, soaping her up and using nozzle sprays to clean her intimate parts. Her feeding and water tubes were adjusted to meet her new height. The best, however, were the daily examinations with Dr. Mayfair. She was so lost in anticipation for her milking that she hardly realised she was being pumped with chemicals.

“Just inches away from the floor, Zoe Cow. You’re prógressing  wonderfully!” The cold measuring tape was replaced with her doctor’s soft hands, palming her now very large areola. Zoe gasped- her teats had become so sensitive since they started to expand. She felt the tips of slim fingers resting at her opening.

“Yes, I know, Cow, it’s what you should be feeling. And you’ve been feeling wet between your legs, haven’t you?”

When Dr. Mayfair pushed in, Zoe Cow pushed back onto them. The doctor kept her fingers still as she watched her patient fuck herself on her fingers.

“Yes, it’s been so ignored in the last few months. Since you finally started giving milk?”

Her milk. Yes, she was wet in front and then wet in back now. She didn’t understand the wetness in the back. Her doctor never told her what it was.

“Perhaps this can be fixed? Come along Zoe Cow, on two legs this time.”

On shaky legs she followed Dr. Mayfair down a different coridor. It was low-lit, just like the others, but the light spilling from the open door was almost blinding.

There was another table, stiff with no means of adjustment. A rolling tray was at the foot with a small black box with two wires and conductive pads snaking out. The familiar heart monitor was present, as well as a large covered tray pushed up against the wall.

“Climb on, darling. Lay back and stay still,”

Zoe felt the restraints loop around her wrists and ankles. She was surprised, but didn’t move. Cows needed them to stay still during any examinations at any time.

They didn’t feel as stuck to the table as her other ones. Curious, she moved her wrist an inch. The doctor caught her, but gave her a smile.

“Yes, you can move a little, just carefully.”

They was about six inches of give, not enough to allow for accidentally rolling off the table. Zoe started to get wet again, drops of milk surfaced on the ends of her teats.

“Good Cow. Such a good Cow,”

Her teats were lifted to make room for the heart monitor pads. Then the doctor went to the tray at the end, flipping a few switches on the box. The electrodes were placed on either side of her clit. Zoe flinched from the cold gel.

“You’re going to learn to concentrate on a different part of your body. You’ll spill milk, but you won’t be pumped. I want you to think of your wet pussy only. Do you understand, Cow? You may speak,”

“Yes, Doctor.” She said softly.

A switch was flipped and the pads started to shoot pulses right to her clit. It didn’t burn like her first procedures, more like being pinched between two thick fingers in quick succession.

Zoe writhed around wanting to pull away but wanting it to go on. Milk pooled between her udders and slid down the sides, wetting the upper part of her back every time she moved.

Her moans gradually increased in pitch. When she fell just short of a scream, the pulsing stopped. The heart monitor beeped wildly with with the rapid rising and falling of her chest. Her thighs were sticky.

“How do your teats feel, Cow? You may speak.”

“Not full. I’m not aching.” she panted. She was, indeed, full of milk and under normal circumstances would be begging to be milked, but her pussy was all she could think about.

“Let’s see what more you can take.” She moved out of Zoe’s line of vision. She heard another cart being wheeled towards her.

“It’s unromantic, but this is a fucking machine.” The straps at her ankles were given more slack, resting just parallel to the table.

“This was actually bought especially for you, dear. We waited for you to accept the transformation before we could address any other part of your body. Your udders mattered the most, obviously.”

An oblong object, soft, almost like skin, brushed the entrance to her sopping wet pussy.

A steady woosh of air filled the room as the object made its way in, stretching her further than the fingers did. The sudden stretch frightened Zoe. She kicked and moved her shoulders to try and escape. Her screams overpowered the hydraulic noises. It kept fucking her further and further only stopping enough to tease the wall of her cervix.

Dr. Mayfair watched on. The girl did look beautiful as she surrendered to the assault. She didn’t even mind the screams. Zoe Cow’s long, dark hair was plastered to her skull and chest from all the sweat and milk she was emitting. She looked down and observed the pool of come forming on the table.

This only took 8 months to get here, she was sure it was an eternity for the girl. Nigella’s rage actually subsided around the fourth ECT session. Zoe Cow wasn’t given any anti-anxiety medication beforehand as punishment , making for a still kicking and screaming patient. She was startled at her feelings of a arousal as she was prepared. The power she had to transform someone against her will was intoxicating. As the experiment progressed, she saw her little cow more often than really needed. She shouldn’t have been kept in that twilight state for as long as she was- it was for selfish purposes, one Mark and John allowed without saying anything.

She never violated the girl or touched her unnecessarily. She just spaced out the injections as they increased in number and dosage, palmed the skin for a second longer. She was content to watch her breathe, taking in the rise and fall of her growing chest. She kept detailed notes on the diameter and darkening shade of her areolae. After the office incident, she was put under again for a week so her teats could be lengthened to prevent tearing.

Her cow was beautiful. Perfect from the day she was forced to submit.

“Zoe, you’re doing exceptionally well,”

She tricked to suck in her breath as the tears rolled down. The pressure and tease was maddening, it fucked her but didn’t reach its end. It just threatened to give her full pain and pleasure.

Dr. Mayfair flicked the switch- the electrodes started again. Zoe screamed hysterically, drowning out the creak of the door.

“Right on time, gentlemen.”

Mark and John observed for a few minutes, impressed. They were a little early for this step, but it seemed to work successfully. This was of particular interest to Mark, almost wanting to see if she would enter a state of psychosis before the test ended. This part finally spoke to his psychiatric expertise.

The fucking suddenly seized and the throbbing in her clit subsided,  but Zoe was still thrashing violently.  The electrodes on her chest were pulled off just to cut the excessive noise.

“FUCK ME. FUCK ME. HELP ME.” her words returned, sounding alien to Zoe.

Stronger flashes of memory cut through- she was in a hospital, she had pads on her head, her milk. Her chest hurt and she was making milk like some kind of freak

“LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO ME. MY CHEST, MY CHEST-“

“Get some straps!” Mark yelled. Nigella ran to a nearby cabinet, frantically searching the shelves. Miraculously, she found three thick leather strips.

“No bite block!”

John grit his teeth as he pulled off his jacket and stretched the sleeve across Zoe Cow’s mouth. Mark bored holes into Nigella’s eyes as he secured the straps to her forehead and chest.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Nigella. You’d rather fuck her than focus on the work. We never should have cut you so much slack. Bring me that box!”

John grabbed it first, settling it on the cow’s immobile chest. The pads weren’t too wet to fall off.  There was just enough gel to make this work.

“Stop seeing her as submissive, needy girl. She’s a cow! Something we’ve made to further our work.”  He turned to John. “I’ll go unilateral, i hope to god she doesn’t break any bones.”

A pad was placed on her forehead with the other on her temple. John flicked the switch.

A low beeping noise and a click and Zoe’s body strained against her bonds. A steady stream of milk flowed out of her teats, spilling over to the floor. John checked his watch: a minute and a half seizure. She didn’t look like she had broken anything. They anxiously waited for her to start breathing again. The shock wasn’t so powerful that she couldn’t recover on there own.

“Heart monitor,” John murmured. Nigella placed the pads, lifting and dropping her teats.

Shallow breathing.

Steady beeps.

In a minute she’d be breathing normally.

Mark kept his head over Zoe Cow’s as he addressed Nigella.

“She’s going back to E-3. Cut back on the drugs to get her a little back to normal. We can pick up from there. Looks like we’ll be babysitting you, Nigella. John, please see if there’s a gurney somewhere in this fuckhole. We’ll take her back.”

After he left, Mark looked up at her. He lightly slapped the side of Zoe’s udder, as if it were an inanimate object.

“Just a cow.” he said.

——-

They recovered in two months.

They closely monitored the rollback process, cutting her medication regiments in half, stopping just short of when she started to scream and kick out in protest.

It was determined that she would  only need half the ECT sessions she started with. Rand and Ingersoll were kind, but clinical. Acknowledging Zoe Cow’s anxiety, she was put under proper sedation for her shock treatments. She was placed in a twilight state for longer periods, enough time to speed up some physical adjustments. Her udders were regularly weighed. The increased suction of her teats capped them at 2” long, allowing for the pumping process to be a bit more manageable.

Dr. Ingersoll administered regular EEG tests at her different states of consciousness. Toward the end Zoe Cow easily obeyed her instructions to sit still and keep her eyes closed. Through all the tests and treatments, her brain waves were normal. They still had an intelligent, cognitive cow.

Dr. Rand took the initiative to re-teach Zoe Cow to think like one. Placing conductive pads on her udders, he would issue a shock if she tried to walk on two legs. She would give a pained scream, bringing her down to her knees, clutching at her udder. He played on her automatic desire to get up, shocking her frequently. It took three days for her to stay on four legs.

“Cows don’t touch their electrode pads, Zoe Cow.” She had become curious about the cords grazing her sensitive teats, but when she tried to rear up, she’d be shocked again. This took seven days to learn.

During the process, Nigella allowed herself one thing: taking in how beautiful Zoe looked blindfolded and in all fours. Her udders pulsed. Her teats did finally hit the floor, dragging back and forth which each shock. She was in a twilight state again, barely aware of what was happening. She almost wanted it to go on forever.

A she watched, Nigella could almost feel the cow’s long hair wrapped around her fist. Her Hucow would be permanently docile, devoted to her entirely.

Hoping the other two wouldn’t noticed, she pursed her lips imagining a teat between her lips. The skin would rest gently in her mouth, she would suck the sweet milk from her udders.

——-

“We rushed. That was our mistake.”

John idly played with his fork, waiting for the other two to speak.

After a little reluctance, three fell back into sync. The incident was acknowledged, but this was the first time they took the time to discuss it. They decided to meet for dinner.

“No, you rushed, Nigella! It’s been impossible to find another test subject, ” said Mark. “People know where they are. Some aren’t committed and just have s short stay in the ER. One was too psychotic to transfer quietly. I thought letting you go ahead with a mixed plan would be fine.”

“We can have the subject be both a milker and a breeder,” Nigella offered. “It’s important that we have all the information we can and quickly. This time my patience wore thin. I thought it would help to move forward.”

John massaged his temples. Zoe Cow was finally stabilized. Next month made a year since they picked the girl to be their first cow. They were more diligent during this recovery period. Perhaps they could try a second time.

“Well then,” John interrupted. “Let’s see if our patience will pay off.”

——-

Zoé Cow screamed. In a flash of clarity she almost begged to be let go, as if the doctors would let her go. The thought left as quickly as it came when the cock settled against her cervix, unmoving. She continued to twitch, still at the mercy of shocks to her clitoris.

Mark spoke first. “Zoe Cow, what do you want to happen?”

“Please keep fucking me” she panted.

“Do your udders hurt? You were supposed to be milked an hour ago.”

“No, Dr. Ingersoll.”

“Are you certain? Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“My pussy is full. My clit is being shocked. Please fuck me.”

Mark slowly rolled the machine back, sliding it out as Zoe whimpered in protest.

“Now, now,” Nigella comforted. “Let doctor Ingersoll do his work, Cow.”

“We’re going to try something different. Something you might even like, Zoe Cow.”

The electrodes were pulled off. She felt the nudge of another cock at her entrance . From what she could see, it was still mounted on the machine, only a large bag with liquid hung on a stand was above it. The tube hung down, out of her line of sight.

The machine strange to life, the cock moving slowly this time, gently making its way in. Zoe Cow groaned, grateful to be so filled again. She was so distracted that she didn’t see the liquid from the bag slowly coming down the tube. The cock gave a few more pumps before stopping at her cervix again. Then, a warm liquid started to come in.

Zoé moved her hips a little, to adjust for the new kind of fullness. It was a little uncomfortable, but her clit started throbbing again. Then she felt her belly extending.

She was entranced by how slowly it grew. Her flat stomach stretched out, rounding out as smooth ball of skin. Just as her belly button started to ache, the machine was flipped off.

The tube slipped out from the base of the cock. Nigella quickly placed a rubber stopper at base the of the cock.

“Okay, let’s get the wedge”

The girl’s legs were released and a foam wedge was lined up under her ass, putting her body on a 180 degree angle.

“You won’t move, will you, Cow?”

Zoé slowly shook her head, feeling the liquid sloshing around.

“Well, she doesn’t mind the distention at least. ” John observed.

“Yeah, but isn’t your thing not a liquid?”

“No, it’s not, but we have to factor for an ability to get her body there in the first place.”

John idly played with her teats sending waves of pleasure through her body. The milk seeping out stayed the same.

“Hand me those glass tubes.”

They were clear, with a rubber ring at the base, though they weren’t meant to be attached to a milking machine. He gently squeezed the base of her udder to get the test to stand straight. The tube was fitted snugly over the flesh.

He observed as a little milk surfaced, but stopped midway at the length of her teat.

Interesting.

———-

It wasn’t insemination, at least not quite. Obviously not wanting bring children into the world, they had to devise a system where they could create an existing pregnancy.

It was the most hands-on part of the experiment. The subject would have an expanding, gelatinous material slid into the womb. Working with Zoe Cow’s hormones, the chemicals within would cause it to stretch, tricking her body into believing she was carrying a fetus. John established a two month gestation period. After that, their cow would push the thing out.

To minimise the use of extraneous chemicals, They decided on an eight week round of ECT to prevent any mental rejection of her body’s changes. They determined they had a resilient hucow, and that Zoe Cow would be first proof that their experiment worked.

She was wheeled into the operating theatre. The bright light reflected off the eggshell white walls, making it look like an extremely sterile environment.  Mark would administer the treatment and John would finish the procedure.  Nigella would be observing. The orderlies stayed to assist this time.

Zoé Cow slowly pressed down on the bite block, opening her eyes to take in what was going to happen. She was going under again, how lovely. The room was colder than the last one, drawing her teats up into stiff points.  Her udder was lifted for the electrode placement. The familiar mask came over her face. Zoe Cow took a deep breath and went to sleep.

After a perfect 1 minute seizure she was quickly carried to the gyn table, ankles quickly strapped to the stirrups.  John had about an hour to complete this, working off an estimate of time.

With the beeping of her heart monitor keeping time, the orb slowly made its way into her body. John checked for any changes in breathing. The thing was being absorbed at s snail’s pace, placing them dangerously lose to the 55 minute mark. At 57 minutes, Zoe Cow’s body took it all. Mark applied a little more oxygen to keep her under enough for her to be transferred back to her room.

——-

Zoe Cow surprised them by taking to her pregnancy immediately.  She didn’t notice how quickly her belly was growing, only that her chest was incredibly sensitive. She was allowed to sit up for her milking sessions. To keep her focused on her lower half, the doctors applied a small pump to her clit, inducing orgasms on a timed schedule. When her teat cups pulled, her clit pump released. What felt like a random pattern to her actually took place every two hours.

Mark and John initially joined Nigella during observation, both men trying to understand their colleague’s attachment to the cow.

Her moans of pleasure echoed for mere minutes before she came into the reception pan under her ass.

The squirting was new. John took interest for less professional reasons, wishing he could just keep the girl that way so she’d develop a long clit. The pregnant women he treated looked like the cows Nigella envisioned. He wanted to own a  soft, docile woman who submitted to such a change in her body, regardless of pain and complications. In the privacy of his home he watched films of women consensually subjecting themselves to the same process, only taking it a few steps further and living like even more docile cows. Pregnant creatures that only mooed and provided their milk and bodies for his pleasure.

Mark’s strange relationship with his work also meant less professional desires. He didn’t admit it, but he was jealous of Nigella being the first to administer electroshock therapy. He was addicted to the control he had over the person laying before him. The sudden loss of breath, being responsible for losing control over their bodies, and even slipping the black oxygen mask over their faces sustained his desires.

He never touched anyone inappropriately. The nurses took care of the electrode placements under their shirts or hospital gowns. But a growing part of him wished he was working in the early years of ECT application. Though he’d ensure their bodies wouldn’t sustain damage, he wanted to see the humiliation in the eyes of stripped patients, fearfully awaiting their treatment.

They never discussed it, but Mark and John knew what the other got out of it, even if they weren’t as attached as Nigella was to Zoe Cow. The work, the money, and their pride were too important.

——

“It’s going in reverse!” Mark slammed his tablet onto the table, rattling their water glasses. “Explain how you carry a life and your body just collapses into itself, John!”

John had kept  quiet about the first month but eventually had to share his findings. Yes, Zoe Cow’s production reduced by half, but what was collected had a different consistency. The cow’s milk was thicker, and became increasingly difficult to draw out during her milking sessions.

“I’m waiting on the results, but I suspect there are different level of proteins in this milk- possibly greater than normal cow milk, but I’m not sure. This is probably the sweet spot, if the gestation period kept going, the milk would be completely sucked in. We’ll have created a high risk birth.”

“Then did you just guess at the number of months?!” Nigella banged her hands on the table, surprising them both

“Relax, Nigella, it wasn’t a guess.”

“Zoe Cow is still a living breathing thing, even though she’s transformed into an animal! If it weren’t for me, neither one of you would be part of this little passion project. I had the plan, Mark could find the money, and you, John, filled the gaps. How could you just guess?”

Silence fell over the room. John stared back at her.

“We’re almost done,” he said quietly. “She’s going to live. When this is over, you can have the cow. Put her on your ward, maybe let her get stable again and let her go, maybe just do what you’ve wanted since the first time you fucked this up and take her for yourself! The milk is an issue, but she’ll be perfectly fine!”

———

Zoe’s water broke just as her morning milking began. Mark had secured the teat cups, when she gave a sharp spasm pushing a gush of liquid from her pussy. John and Nigella rushed into the room, popping them off, and taking her arms and legs to bring her to the floor.

She cried as they pried her legs open, Nigella holding her from behind, instructing her to keep them apart. Milk sprayed from her teats, coating John’s face as he closed in.

“From the side,” he said. “Put her on her side. She’s putting out too much fluid for me to help.”

Nigella rolled her over, keeping her head in her lap. To quiet her sobbing, she fondled her teats, trying to incite something pleasurable.  Mark held her leg up while John, reached in to separate her pussy lips. Zoe’s violent sobs were enough to create a push. After five minutes of waiting, the ball slid out, right into John’s hands.

Zoe Cow’s breathing began to normalize. Nigella kept her fingers on her teats, stroking them gently.

“I imagined she would instinctively reach for her calf,” she said, not looking up.

“I guess her body knew. You’re probably aiding by stroking her like that.”

Zoe gave the last of her fluids, slipping into a light sleep. John stood up and removed his drenched sweater.

“Congratulations. We have our first hucow.”

——

They had expected the second birthing to go as smoothly as the first.  Zoe remained docile at the start of her milk production decrease, but at almost halfway, she started to retaliate against the milking machine. She issued sharp grunts, like a frightened animal, and kept pulling back on her udders in an attempt to release her teats.  John called the orderlies immediately, holding her midsection to keep the tubes from popping out. Zoe kept fighting, kicking her legs and trying to slide down the chair. When Nigella and Mark arrived, Zoe was pinned down by the three men, still attempting to pull away.

There was dried blood around the rubber rings. Come and light piss slid out between her legs, dripping to the floor.

“Just grab the fucking sedative!” John called out over his shoulder. The needle was jammed into a free portion of Zoe’s arm. She girl stopped struggling immediately.

Her episode prompted a temporary return to restraints. She was additionally strapped to the chair with a flexible rubber mask that covered her mouth and chin, starting at just under her nose. After a few more ECT sessions, the doctor observed how Zoe Cow noticed the difference in milking position, squealed against the mask, but made minimal attempts to free herself.

They decided not to force her milk anymore. They’d let it flow, even if it made a mess. The production was especially low when she was a sleep, so she was fitted with glass tubes that held the milk in until it could be collected in the morning.

After that, Zoe spent more time in the operating theatre. The lighting was adjusted so it wasn’t so blinding, and dimmed down to allow her to sleep. If there was another relapse, there was no starting over. For all their clinical interaction with the subject, Mark and John weren’t cruel. A third round would hurt the girl.

“We’d cycle her down,” explained John. “We can reverse the udder augmentation but can’t retract her teats much. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. The lockdown ward doesn’t care past the initial strip search. She’ll just be another big-titted psych patient.”

——

It felt like every time Zoe woke up, she was midway through another birthing cycle. The truth was that she was only in her third, she just couldn’t remember how big she needed to be before she issued another calf. She did notice her milking session was shorter that day. Her udders didn’t ache much, but the glass tube caps over her teats were a little uncomfortable.

Nigella sat behind the observation glass, watching Zoe appraise the glass vials but making no attempt to touch them. She exited the seating area and went into the room.

“Your milk is thick.” Nigella reached out and tugged on one of the tubes. Zoe moaned in response.

“This might be your last birth, Zoe Cow. We’ve found someone to start as our next control group.”

Another cow? As she stared down at her glass tubes, she tried to picture someone new but couldn’t see past an image of herself. Perhaps she would look like the cow she saw in the mirror during her second birthing. The tired one on all fours and encased teats that clinked on the floor. The cow who almost always woke up in room E-3.

“It’s been a long time that you’ve been here, hasn’t it, Cow?”

Nigella appraised the creature before her, dizzy from her therapies and the hormones that raged in her system. Her thick black hair was recently cut to her shoulders. It was becoming a pain to keep clean at waist length. She now had pair of large udders that rested over a swollen belly. Deep brown areolae. Teats that almost met the top curve of her heavy body.

She was twice as beautiful as the first time she was strapped down and permitted to orgasm.

“Now pay attention, darling.”

Fingers gently moved the rubber base from side to side, releasing the suction. She carefully slid the tube out, angling it so her milk stayed at the bottom.

Nigella leaned in and took the wet teeth in her mouth. Zoe began to pant, unprepared for the new stimuli. She had never been in someone’s mouth before. The warmth that pooled in her belly matched the warmth on her body; she erratically flexed her pussy in time with the suckling mouth.

She felt the doctor’s fingertip on her engorged clit. The excitement from her first orgasm returned. Unable to control herself, Zoe used her words:

“Let meeee be your cow, doctor.” The fingers continued to stroke up and down until Zoe squirted out on to the chair. Nigella slid off her teat with a loud ‘pop’, looking up at the now anxious hucow.

“There’s no punishment for that anymore, Zoe Cow.”

Brown eyes met brown. Zoe relaxed.

“This is your last calf. You’ll be leaving here with me.”

——

A year and a half after Zoe Cow became their test subject, Lucie Cow graced the ER’s presence with the right degree of psychosis. Bipolar I, but also well managed until something triggered her.

“She’ll be strong enough for the long term.”

Nigella, Mark, and John sat at their usual table in the private dining area. Though the restaurant provided 5 star service, they requested a little more privacy each time. It was almost romantic, discussing the body of their newest patient over drinks. There was even candlelight.

John had found her. He was lucky that she was already sedated. They were only waiting for clearance to move her to the psychiatric building. In the frustrating long period it took for the file to reach the server on the correct floor, John had already given the nurse at the desk a full dressing down. The girl had already been released from the ER- she had wasted time and wasted a bed.

Nigella thoughtfully rested her chin on her hands, looking through the flame directly at John.

“She’ll be difficult to sedate.  You know her condition requires more drugs in her system- it’ll compromise the project.”

“We’ll take it slow. We might have to cycle her and in out of her regiment. I guess she’ll be restrained longer than our first subject.”

Nigella imagined catheters and bed pans. The poor thing would probably need an NG. There were no guarantee she’d understand how to use the feeding tube.

Mark took a sip of his wine, placing the glass down enough to make a noise.

“I’ve sent the results to our clients. Check the bank accounts next month. Assuming this subject survives, we’d only need a milker to prove that this works.”

“Our men in Europe got a little excited and started talking about farms,” he chortled.

The other two smiled politely.

It would be a little fun to see their work in action someday.

———

“Just focus on the pumps, Zoe Cow.”

She was being led down the exit hall, Dr. Mayfair taking her arm to keep her in step. Zoe was still recovering from her birthing procedure, she moved around sluggishly. She was scratching at her clothes with her free hand.  She didn’t remember the last time the wasn’t naked. The thin cotton of her tank top and loose pants made her skin itch.  After being fitted with a portable pump, she ran her nails around the plastic shields, scoring red lines across her chest. She fought the urge as her doctor squeezed her arm, trying to focus on the pleasant sucking of her teats.

As they were about to pass room E-3, a woman’s scream echoed down the hallway. The two stopped at the doorway, quietly taking in the scene.

The young, dark-haired woman kept pulling against her restraints, screaming and begging to be let go.

“PLEASE. PLEASE.” She sobbed between her words, weakening her effort.

“Do you remember this, Zoe Cow?”

Barely.  She remembered a teal ceiling at the beginning and not being able to move. A small room with a carpet and the rubber of cold suction tubes against her skin. Drs. Ingersoll and Rand and the anesthesia mask. Did she struggle like that?

They watched as Mark secured the straps and John attached the electrodes to her forehead. Wild-eyed and biting on the block, the girl struggled once more until the familiar beep of the ECT machine went off and her body went still.

“Her udders…” Zoe murmured.

“Not likely to be as full as yours. Remember how hard it was to draw it out when you were calving? She’ll only be used for that. Her milk will be different from your milk.”

And in smaller doses. Nigella murmured. She’ll be here a little while

——

As the buildings and trees zoomed by the window, Zoe began to shake. Nigella had forgotten that the cow hadn’t seen the sun for three years. All she knew were the bright lights of the hospital ward.

“Don’t worry, Zoe Cow. Just focus on your milking.”

Zoe closed her eyes and listened to the air being sucked in and out of the plastic shields. Milk was what mattered. Making milk for her doctor was the only matter.

They pulled up to a small ranch house obscured by trees. The structure was deceptive, however.  When they walked in, the inside was a spacious single ranch style layout. To the left was the living area, with an entrance to the bedroom, to the right was a large kitchen with a doorway leading outside. She stiffened again.

“It’s quite alright, Zoe Cow. Here, we’ll do it slowly.”

From the safety of the house Zoe saw a sizable clearing with thick grass and a smaller house on the other side.

“That’s you’re milking lodge.” Dr. Mayfair released Zoe’s teats from the machine, the air from the screen door hardened the cow’s teats, drops of milk forming at the tips.

She pulled her arms up and slipped the top over her head. As Zoe stared out across the clearing, Nigella slid her pants down to her ankles. Without instruction, she stepped out of them. She felt her doctor’s fingers stroking her engorged clit. She mewled, angling herself up against them.

“Good Zoe Cow. Good cow. Close your eyes, please.”

Zoe heard a clinking noise, the the cool press of leather material over her eyes. The doctor secured the blinders, leaving a snug fit. The pressure around her head would likely ground her, it would feel close to what she felt during her ECT sessions.

She led her slowly. The girl pressed her feet deep into the grass, delighting at the scratchy sensation. A pleasurable wind blew across her udders, shaking her teats. Her pussy was wet again.

The grass turned to raw wood flooring.

“Stay still. I won’t be taking the blinders off this time. I want you to get used to the feeling.”

The room was fitted to look like a small outdoor apartment studio. There was a single bed, a dresser and a mirror. There was a small bathroom on the opposite end, with a standing shower. It wouldn’t have been too overwhelming, but Nigella wanted Zoe to concentrate on still feeling like a cow in a new environment.

“Come down on all fours,”

She immediately obeyed, adjusting her knees to the new flooring. Her teats dragged below her, running over a dry stretch of dirt. Zoe flinched.

“Hmm, your teats might be toughened now that you’re here.”

Nigella looped Zoe’s hair around her fist and led her to a shallow metal pan. She wet her fingers and wiped the dirt off her teats.

A soft hand squeezed around the base of her udder, the teat stiffened, and a splash of milk hit the pan. “It’ll just be us now.”

Her pussy dripped down between her legs. she whimpered as she pulled back just a little, silently asking her doctor to squeeze harder.

She felt a hand on each udder, making alternate pulls, forcing more milk out.

The pan had filled up to a quarter inch before the flow started to decrease. Zoe Cow was lost in her own pleasure, eager for the next pull. With one hand remaining on her chest, Dr. Mayfair slid her head under a free udder and began to suck. She heard a cry above her head and instinctively pulled her in closer.  She knew she wouldn’t resist for very long. She sucked in her cheeks to draw more sweet milk out, keeping a now painful grip on the free udder.

Yes, just them. Just her and the beautiful submissive creature she built from scratch.