Party Hard!

Zoë’s second birth

Dr. Rand took a wet cloth and ran it over Zoe Cow’s unusually sensitive nipples. Zoe squeaked, but kept still.

“Zoe Cow…” John said to himself. “What is wrong with Zoe Cow…”?

Her teats maintained the same thickness as her first birth, but it seemed like her duct was clogged. He looked closer and saw it was perfectly normal.  Perhaps Zoe Cow’s hormones were affecting her differently this round. Zoe still had a look of pain on her face.

“This is just your hormones, cow. This will pass when you produce your calf.”

That night, Zoe watched as her teats gave a thicker substance, barely making a puddle on the floor. Still was still permitted to touch herself so she carefully tugged on them to see if she could make more. Grimacing through the pain, she pushed out thick, almost lumpy liquid out of her body. What was her body doing now?

——

John was largely in charge of this part of the experiment.  Mark and Nigella were the ones who filled the gaps now, taking their cues from their experienced colleague. He was the one issuing Zoe Cow’s daily examinations now.

The orderlies walked a tired-looking Zoe into the room, her udders appearing heavier than before, with angry red teats falling just above her pubis. Nigella and Mark sat behind the glass, neither wanting to be the first to point it out. They watched as her udders were weighed, took measurements of all of her parts, including how dilated her womb was. All the while, Zoe nodded in and out, not registering the man seated between her legs.

“She’s not sedated, is she?” said Nigella, not looking at Mark.

“No, she’s been like this. I thought it was just I, but she’s getting harder to wake up after her ECT sessions. Still docile, but extremely sluggish.”

They watched as the orderlies wheeled the chrome milker in to the room. John kept her in the same position as he fixed the rubber ends to her udders, absently reaching for the switch to turn it on. In the first few seconds of pumping, Zoe Cow’s eyes shot wide open and she started grunting, lower and more animal-like than the three had ever heard from her. Zoe rolled off the table in an attempt to get the sucking tubes off but landed on her side, the tubes still attached. Her grunts increased in level, reaching high pitches and then crashing to low. She kept bucking but the tubes pulled harder. John flicked the switch and watched quietly as one of the orderlies held her legs, the other, pulling the tubes off.

Zoe screamed again. Every guttural vibration pushing fluid out of her teats. 

Nigella and Mark remained where they were, waiting to see what John would do next. The cow kept violently thrashing, oblivious to the blood and milk covering her teats.  John remained where he was.

“This is fucking ridiculous-“ Nigella moved to get up, but Mark caught her by the wrist.

“Wait.” he said sharply.

“You already know she’s slipping into psychosis, Mark. Get John to end it.”

“Does it matter? Her chemicals are off anyway. At this point her psychosis is just a matter of how quiet she can stay.  She feels this way when she’s alone, even when we’re watching her. The pain is just bringing this out.”

Nigella remembered her own psychotic patients.  Women three to five months into their pregnancies being forced into straitjackets, locked in their solitary rooms until they quieted.  She couldn’t sedate them lest it compromise the study.  These were the ones not in the ECT control group. They were the women left to suffer until their bodies gave up. She wanted Zoe to stop screaming. Her cow was in more pain than necessary. She didn’t deserve this.

After an eternity, the room went silent.  John crouched down, pulling back her eyelids and keeping a hand between her udders to place her heartbeat. Not acknowledging his colleagues, he directed the orderlies to pick up her up and carry her out. Mark and Nigella couldn’t hear where.

————

“I’m keeping her in the operating theater.”  The three sat in the red-carpeted office, Mark behind the desk.  John was at the window, Nigella in a chair opposite Mark.

“We’ll need to get to her faster if she has another episode.” he continued.

“She can’t have more ECT,” Nigella said. “We’ve reached the control limit. She’ll have to ride this out for the rest of the pregnancy. Obviously with not relief.”

“What about her milk?” asked Mark?

John came away from the window and faced his colleagues.

“She’ll be in pain during the day but goes in and out of sleep states on her own for 50 minutes at a time. We’ll keep her restrained. She’ll have to have an NG tube, catheter, bed pan, everything a psychotic patient would need. We should give ourselves the peace that comes with a gag. She’ll still be able to breathe, and we don’t have to be bothered by her screaming.”

“Let me do it. Let me put the tubes in. It’ll be easier.” Nigella crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying to hide her anxiety.

“I’m grateful for your compassion, Nigella.” Mark stood up. “For everyone involved.”

——

The grunting was excruciating. Nigella tried to focus on her fingers sliding down the tube and not on the cow below her, thrashing like she was close to breaking bones.

She truly sounded like an animal. Her squeals of pain, initially peppered amongst the grunts, became steady, sounding like one being taken to slaughter. Nigella didn’t have the strength to talk her down like she did her patients. It hurt too much.

She reminded herself it was just for two weeks. They had made it quite far before her mental state deteriorated. Zoe Cow could live out 14 days. She knew her cow would survive it. The tube settled in, making it harder for Zoe to make any noise. While Nigella prepared the catheter, she drummed up the bravery to speak.

“You have to stay still, Zoe Cow. More still than now.” Zoe kept moving about, enough to make this next insertion difficult. She gave the orderlies a nod, and they silently held her waist and knees apart with grips firm enough to bruise.

“I know you have natural lubricant, but I’m adding more. I don’t want this to hurt you.”

Dr. Mayfair caught Zoe’s eyes widening as she fed the tube. She wasn’t hooked up to the heart monitor, but she could safely assume the girl’s heart rate was elevated. Was this Zoe alone feeling aroused or would they find it in the next cow?

Once locked in, she admired her own handiwork, both above and below Zoe Cow’s waist. She slid the bedpan under her ass and left to meet Mark and John on the other side of the glass.

“I’m sure she’ll be asleep soon. Then we can add the last piece.”

Ten minutes later John quietly stepped into the room with a leather bag in tow.  Setting it carefully on the floor, he pulled out two glass tubes, rubber tipped like the ones on the milker, but with no suction tube at the end. They were sized for Zoe’s teats exactly, meant to utilize any moisture to keep them in place.

“She almost doesn’t look human,” Nigella said. John closed the door and set his bag on a nearby chair.

“All hooked up like that. Like she’s lost it more since we started milking her.”

She turned to Mark.

“I understand you now.”

————

Zoe was dehumanized further during the hours that her half mask was kept on. The rubber started just below her nostrils, covering her mouth, contouring toward the back of her head and then secured at the nape of her neck.  The orderlies pinned her hair up for better access, but it made the mask all the more prominent.

Nigella was entranced. She made this. This creature that was forced to surrender her autonomy to her creator. All that could really be seen of Zoe were here eyes, her arms and her legs. The teat cups obscured her chest and her waist was covered to prevent infection from traveling up the urethral tube. If Nigella had it her way, Zoe Cow would have been completely exposed, undergoing the humiliation of being watched while she pissed.

She would give birth tomorrow, ending this little show. Nigella was the last watch before Zoe Cow would be unhooked and prepared.

Zoe was still awake when she stepped in the room. The girl was stock-still. almost catatonic. Her teat cups were halfway full, leaving half the flesh visible.

“Time for these to come off, Zoe Cow.”

Nigella carefully moved them from side to side, letting air in to release the suction. The fluid hardly shifted. It coated the glass and teat almost equally. Zoe remained still.

“The mask is staying on until the birth. Once the calf comes out, you should stop being in pain.”

Nigella leaned in and whispered to her:

“I’m sorry, Zoe. This never should have happened.”

Zoe’s eyes started to water.

“If you survive this, I’ll push for a third birth. When you’re not in pain, darling, you’re beautiful. You carry this beautiful cow body; you’re obedient and ready to please. I want to be the only one to mold you and care for you like this.  I made you who you are, and I know you’re grateful.”

Tears streamed down, Zoe gave a muffled moan.

————

The orb slid out almost instantly. Zoe was thrashing from the pain in her udders that the pushing came easy; after Dr. Mayfair told her the only way to stop the pain was to push out her calf. She watched as Dr. Rand took it out of the room again, and looked up at Dr. Ingersoll as he stood over her. His kindness extended to a hand through her sweat damp hair. Nigella cooed as she held her, knowing her cow’s udders were still in pain.

“You’ll give a third birth, Zoe Cow. Do you want that?”

He wasn’t asking, really. Just gauging what her response would be after being in Nigella’s care for two weeks. He hoped for her total obedience, even in pain, and by the lightness in the cow’s eyes, he knew he had it.

Zoe Cow nodded slowly, breathing into his palm.  Mark gave her cheek a soft pat and let her head fall into Nigella’s arms.