The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I woke up on my hands and knees. My mind seemed clearer than it had been in a long time.

But it was a different sort of clear. I was aware, but I felt passive, detached. It took a while before I even thought of paying attention to my surroundings.

I was in some sort of stall. My shoulders were touching the sides, and I could feel the back of the stall against my ass. I guess my feet were sticking out below it.

Hell, I could even feel my fingers, sort of. I tried to wiggle one, but it just twitched a bit.

My head was sticking out above some sort of stall door, so I looked to either side. The stall was one in a long row of stalls. To my surprise, there were other heads sticking out of most of them.

A long row of heads.

Surprised, I tried to lift my head for a better look, but my collar prevented me from getting it up above horizontal. Defeated, I rotated it as much as I could, trying to recognize if the woman in the stall next to me was Natalie, or Lynn, or Mary.

I didn’t recognize her. She didn’t look back, simply staring straight down with glassy eyes. The woman on the other side was the same, although she had black hair instead of brown. Both women—in fact, all the women I could see—were wearing big, black headphones. The one next to me on the right had a thin string of drool hanging from her slightly open lips, trembling with her breath.

Did I have headphones on? I pushed my head against my shoulder.

I did.

My mind was becoming clearer. I started to remember, vaguely, the pen. Thoughts of Natalie and Lynn had brought it into focus. Other memories began to surface, vaguely, as though seen through a thick fog.

But there were other thoughts, that were perfectly, crystal clear.

I was a cow.

I didn’t know why I knew that to be true, but I did. It was a certainty. As soon as the thought awoke in my mind, my whole awareness focused on it and confirmed it to be true.

There was no question about it at all. It was like saying that fire was hot, or the floor was hard.

I was a cow.

For a moment, it was the only clear and valid thing in my world, more certain than the stall I was in. Then other certainties—so much clearer than my memories—began to surface.

I had been human, but I was not any more. I was now an animal.

As an animal, I must obey the humans that owned me.

I would obey them.

I was a cow.

I focused on the certainties for a while, repeating them to myself, enjoying their concreteness.

Then I heard footsteps. In my lassitude, I only wondered abstractly who they might be. They were behind me, approaching. Of course, I could not turn around.

The footsteps—clicking, like someone in heels—stopped right behind me. Then I felt the headphones being lifted off, and the room was suddenly quieter.

With a click, something was attached to the center ring on my belt, over my spine. The stall wall that pressed against my buttocks swung away, and then I felt a leash pulling me backwards.

I crawled backwards, emerging onto a concrete walkway behind the stalls. Between two rows, actually—there were a long line of cows’ hind legs emerging from stalls on both sides of this aisle. There must have been eighty of us in that room.

Standing in front of me was the doctor.

“Well, good morning, little cow,” she said. “Feeling more cognizant today?”

Cows didn’t speak.

I was a cow.

She stepped forward, and now I could only see her feet. “Good girl,” she said from above me. “You know better than to try and answer that.”

She reached down, and patted me on the head. Then she removed the leash from my belt.

“Follow me,” she said, and walked back the way she came.

I turned around and hurried after her. I passed maybe twenty sets of lower legs sticking out of pens. Some of them probably belonged to Mary, but I didn’t have time to examine the women in the pens. I had to follow the doctor.

I must obey her.

I would obey her.

She led me down a hall, and into an examining room just like the one I had been in before, only this time there was a ramp up to the top of the table.

“Get up on the table,” she said, and I obediently crawled up the ramp.

She leaned over and began to touch my breasts. “Hmm. Looks good,” she said, squeezing and massaging them. “You’re right where you should be, and growing nicely.” She was right—they were bigger. I could tell by their weight.

I just stood there as the doctor squeezed them. Her hands felt good on my breasts.

“Well, it’s time for some more shots, and a little more equipment, little cow. You just stand there.”

She injected me with some more drugs. Seven separate shots, all into my ass. I began to feel a bit light-headed again.

“The slurry is a wonderful concoction,” she said. “But we have to keep the dosage fairly low to avoid averse reactions. That’s why we keep you in the pen for a few months, and the stall for a few months more. But now your body chemistry is just where it should be.” She bent over and looked into my eyes. “We draw blood while you sleep,” she said, winking. “No reason to take you out of trance for that. And from the look in your eyes, you’ve been absorbing your slave programming like a sponge. So all we have to do now to induce lactation, and you’ll be out on the production line.”

Lactation?

I must have frowned, for she laughed. “Yes, little cow, that’s why you’re here. Human milk, from properly adjusted human females, has some wonderful qualities. Qualities that other mammalian milk sadly can’t duplicate.” As she talked, she was walking around behind me. Then I felt two fingers slide into my pussy, pulling the lips apart.

“Spread your legs a bit, little cow,” she said. I did so.

“A little wider,” she said, “and momma will give you something nice.” So I strained to spread my legs apart, almost sliding them off the table.

Then she licked me.

I bucked, startled, but kept my legs spread.

She licked me again, tasting, and then her tongue slid right into me.

God, did it feel good.

She started flicking her tongue inside me.

After something like thirty seconds, I came, and her lips pursed on my pussy and she sucked as I twitched helplessly, part of me worrying that I wasn’t keeping my legs spread wide enough.

Finally, she disengaged, with a wet smacking sound. I felt all watery inside.

“Tasty,” she said, and I shivered. A hand came down on my lower back. “You needed that, didn’t you?”

I must not speak.

Struck by a sudden thought, I mooed.

Her hand froze.

So did I. Had I done wrong?

Then she stroked me. “Good girl!” she exclaimed. I could tell she was surprised. Her hand slid along, and her eyes appeared, looking into mine. Then they looked up at my forehead.

“Huh. Five forty two. Five forty... Oh!” She smiled at me, looking back into my eyes. “I remember you now—you were docile even before your time in the pen.” She smiled at me, and ran her hand along my head. “You are a wonder, five forty two. Most cows here require months of programming before they moo like that.”

Her face came closer, and then she was kissing me. Her tongue slid into my mouth, and, confused, I sucked on it.

Then she broke the kiss and stepped away again. “I’m going to keep my eye on you, five forty two. You have interesting... potential.” She sighed dramatically. “But, for now, we still have some way to go before you are completely a cow. No sense in putting it off.”

She turned around to her tray, and came back with a turkey baster, filled with some purple liquid. She reached to my cheeks, and squeezed my mouth open. Then she stopped, let go, and considered me.

“Now, this is your first dose of this stuff,” she said. “This is what will turn you into a truly champion milker. It tastes terrible, and most cows, even rendered totally submissive by the chemicals in the slurry and a month of subliminal programming, have to be force fed it.”

Her eyes looked into mine. “Will you drink it for me, little cow?”

I looked at her, and mooed.

She showed me a smile full of white teeth, and picked up a cup. She emptied the turkey baster into it. “Now, if you lower your haunches, you should be able to drink this.”

I pressed my still-tingling cunt towards the tabletop. She brought the cup to my lips.

It did taste terrible.

I drank it all.

The doctor beamed, and patted me on the head. “Good girl, five forty two! Okay, just one more thing, and we’ll start you lactating.” From the tray, she picked up a very small plastic box, which she flipped open.

Gingerly, she reached into it, and pulled out a strangely large contact lens.

“Eyes wide open,” she said, reaching for me, and I retracted my eyelids as far as they could go.

Gently, she pushed the contact into my right eye.

I couldn’t see out of it at all.

Oh no. Not my sight, not again.

Please.

“Open the other eye, five forty two.”

Shivering, I did so, and she put another contact into it.

I was blind.

I couldn’t stop shaking.

Her hand stroked my head. “Aww, poor girl. Don’t worry, little cow, those will dissolve in a few days, and you’ll be able to see again. They are just there to permanently dye your eyes. All cows have big brown eyes, you know.”

My eyes? But they were blue...

I felt her clip the leash to my belt, and then she was pulling me away. Blind, I crawled after her.

I crawled for a while, and then she stopped.

“Here’s your home for a few days, five forty two,” she said. “Crawl forward.”

I did so, and felt walls brushing past my shoulders. As I expected, I then encountered a wall in front, and stopped.

“A technician will be by to hook you up shortly,” the doctor said, behind me. I felt her hand on my ass, petting me.

“I’ll be back for you in a few days,” she said, and her hand slid down underneath to my cunt, which was wet and still tingling. She slid a finger in, wiggled it about, and I pushed back against it instinctively.

She giggled, and took the finger away.

“Mmm,” she said. “You do taste nice, five forty two. Bye now.”

I stood in the pen for a while, blind.

My panic about being unable to see had abated. And, in truth, it had been strangely muted even when I thought that my blindness was to be permanent. The slurry—or the drugs, or whatever programming those headphones had been doing—seemed to have removed most of my emotional reactions.

Except my sexual ones, that is. I was still horny as hell.

Then I heard someone approaching. “Five forty two,” a male voice said. “Ready to be milked?”

I didn’t reply. A hand slid along the top of my ass, petting me.

Then I felt a strap being drawn around my back, and two cups pressing into my nipples. There was a mechanical noise, and then there was suction on my nipples. The technician drew the strap tight across my back.

The suction at my nipples started to pulse, left, right, left, right.

It felt good. My nipples were hard as rocks.

Then I felt something else touching my vagina.

“Spread your legs a little, five forty two.”

I did so, and something cool and hard slid into me.

It felt great.

I whimpered, and the technician chuckled. “Just a little something to get you in the mood,” he said, and with a click it started to vibrate.

I came in seconds.

Then, again, a few minutes later.

I managed to hold still as the man put a pair of headphones on me. The strange sound that I had awoken to earlier filled my ears.

I came again.

The technician had left, and I was blind, strapped into a pen. There was a buzzing dildo in my cunt and suction on each of my nipples. Some sort of subliminal programming was hissing directly into my head.

I felt wonderful.

I don’t know when I started lactating.

I think it was during my sleep. At some point, still being fucked, I fell asleep. When I woke up, my nipples were wet, and I realized that I was the reason.

I felt a weird surge of pride.

At some point, the technician reappeared, and put a tube into my mouth, which I dutifully sucked. More liquid food, thick and creamy. He told me that the tube would be right there, near my face, whenever I felt hungry.

So I sucked on the tube, gave milk, and every now and then I came.

I could smell myself. I smelled like an animal in heat. That dildo hadn’t come out of me for days.

My milk came in fits and starts, and the milking machine seemed to compensate. When it stopped flowing, the machine subsided, dropping to a low, constant suction. When I started to lactate again, it picked up.

I wasn’t aware enough to get bored.

When I awoke after my second sleep, I realized that I could see light. A dim, brown light, but light nonetheless. As time passed, my vision steadily improved; first I could see the white wall past the front of my pen, then I could see the shape of the tube hanging by my face, and then I started to see variations in the pen, and the wall, and I could see a drain in the floor and some of the machinery that was milking me.

The day after my fourth sleep, the doctor came back.

I recognized her footsteps, and a touch of eagerness ran up my spine. The click of her heels stopped behind me. “How now, my little cow?” she asked.

I mooed.

She laughed lightly, and checked the machinery. “Very good,” she said. “You are already fully producing!”

Walking around the pen—because this was the only pen in this small room—she ran a hand along my back. “Well, then, it’s time to take you out of this room, and put you in the general population. Now, I apologize for this—” she said, and the vibrator turned off, “but I’m guessing that three days of sexual stimulation has left you just a bit dead down there. Don’t worry,” she added, patting my ass, “it’ll come right back.”

It was true. I barely felt it as she slid the dildo out of my cunt.

The milking cups went next, disengaging with a popping sound. Her hands immediately slid in, stroking and touching my udders.

“Very nice,” she said. “Already you’re getting even larger. You have the makings of a truly admirable milker.”

She released my breasts, and clipped a leash onto my belt. Slowly, she backed me out of the pen.

“Now, most little cows don’t get to know this,” she said, as she led me to the door, “but since you’re a special little cow, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Do you know what you’ve been drinking?”

I waited. I wasn’t actually that curious. Curiosity was for cats, and monkeys. Not cows.

“Milk!” she said. “In fact, your own milk. Mixed with a lot of other stuff, of course. I mean, cute as you are, you aren’t a perfect recycler. But since you’re not producing just the right type of milk, yet, we weren’t harvesting it. And why let it go to waste?”

Why indeed?

I was walking—crawling—along behind her. We walked past a group of people in white, standing around a water cooler. I ignored them almost completely. (I had to be aware of them in case one of them gave me a command. I would obey.)

We turned a corner, and the doctor opened a door, and led me inside. It was another examining room.

“Here, my little cow, come take a look at yourself,” she said, leading me to a full-length mirror on the wall.

It was the first mirror I’d seen since I’d been kidnapped.

The woman in it looked strange. She was on her hands and knees, locked into prosthetic devices. Her breasts were large—much larger than mine had been—and hung beneath her like twin melons. Her hair was short, only a couple of inches, giving her a strange pageboy look.

Her skin was white as porcelain.

On her forehead was written, in smooth flesh, ‘542’.

And her eyes were a dark brown, the irises inhumanly large, just a sliver of white showing.

I stared at her, impassively. She was a cow. A cow with my face.

I was a cow.

The doctor had a small smile on her face. “Pretty, huh?” she asked. “Now, we have a few more things to do before we show you to your new home. Up on the table.”

I obediently climbed up on the table.

“First, have some more of this,” she said, holding up a turkey baster. I opened my mouth, and she shot the stuff into my throat. I swallowed. It still tasted terrible.

She gave me a few more shots in my ass.

“Those nice shots I gave you to take away your hands should wear off pretty soon,” she said, “and we can’t have that.” So I got another ten shots in my fingertips, and my hands obediently went numb.

“And now, something to make you pretty,” she said, holding up a metal circle about an inch in diameter. In her other hand, she had a metal spike.

“Hold still.”

She punched the spike through my septum. I only twitched a little. Then she reached in to daub me with antiseptic.

And then I had a silver ring in my nose.

“Wonderful,” she said, leaning over to french kiss me again. I responded enthusiastically, and she laughed, before kissing me some more.

But she didn’t reach behind me, and she didn’t lick me. “Okay, five forty two, time for your new pen. Follow me.”

I walked down the ramp, and followed her out of the room. We walked some distance before she opened another door, and gestured me in.

“Say hello to your herd,” she said.

It was a medium-sized room, smaller than the one I had first been penned in, but it only held five cows. Six, including myself.

I didn’t recognize any of the others.

“Go on, five forty two,” she said, pushing my ass with her foot, and I walked into the room. “I have to go—dinner with a friend—but I’ll certainly see you again soon. After all, you’re not going anywhere.” She laughed, and let the door closed.

The other cows were approaching. Four nineteen, Two twenty nine, seven sixty three, two ninety, and Eleven thirteen.

My herd.

They came toward me, and stopped only a few feet away, looking. I looked back at them.

Then two ninety moved towards me, and pushed her head up against me, then pushed it along, trailing her body after it, sliding down my length.

The other cows came forward to rub against me, and I rubbed against them. It was reassuring, somehow. We spent a lot of time brushing up against each other, and looking at each other.

We were all pale, although Eleven thirteen had probably been hispanic, and two ninety was definitely asian. Paler than just a lack of tan—undoubtedly, we were being modified towards albinism. Two twenty nine was just this side of a bedsheet, and even the asian two ninety was as white as new butter. White as paper.

Paper... I used to...

Whatever. The thought was gone.

Aside from skin tone, we all had the deep brown eyes that marked us as cows, as well as our numbers and our nose rings. I had thought that my udders were large—and they were—but some of these cows had breasts that were truly enormous. Two twenty nine’s hung just a few inches off the ground. Two ninety’s were just a hair smaller—on an asian woman!—and four nineteen’s were like balloons, hanging between her front legs. Er, her arms.

We all had inhumanly large breasts. But then, we weren’t human.

A large part of me eagerly wanted my udders to become that big. Bigger. And it was happy, because it knew they would.

After the staring, and the pushing, we all sort of stood around. I noticed that the side of the pen opposite the door was a series of six small stalls. Milking stalls. The equipment was all there—even, hanging from the ceiling, the dildos.

I found myself looking forward to my first milking with my herd.

Then I felt something behind me, at my ass. I crawled forward a few inches and looked back. It was two twenty nine—she had been pushing her face into my ass.

She looked at me with her big brown eyes, and walked forward into my ass again.

This time, I just stood there.

Then I felt it—she was licking me! I mooed, and widened my legs. Her tongue quickly darted in, sliding along my slit, then dipping into me.

From behind, she had a good angle to thrust her tongue into my snatch, and she made the most of it. I shivered in pleasure, and felt my heat rise.

Then seven sixty three was in front of me, looking at me around her foreleg, and then she was backing into me. Backing her ass into my face.

Of course I’d love her. She was part of my herd.

Two twenty nine switched back to licking my slit, her tongue darting forward to flick my clit, and I shivered, and pushed my face into seven sixty three’s ass. My tongue reached out, and I tasted sweet, smooth slit.

For the first time ever.

That fleeting thought didn’t distract me from making love to seven sixty three. I licked her soft, slick lips, then stiffened my tongue and pushed it into her cunt as far as I could.

The whole herd made love to me. I tasted the nectar of each and every one of the five of them, and they tasted mine.

We bonded.

Some while later, we all went to sleep, standing together in the center of our pen.

I woke up to a chime.

My sisters were deserting me, eagerly scrambling forward to the milking stalls.

Milking! I came fully awake and hurried to the vacant stall. My stall.

We stood there, udders dangling over idle machines. I could sense my sisters’ eagerness, and it fed my own. Up and down the line, I could see their heads sticking out over the front wall of the stalls. Occasionally, one of us would moo.

Finally, a man entered, whistling. He walked along the line of us with a bucket, and a turkey baster.

“Titty grow, getcher titty grow,” he said, feeding each of us some of the bitter fluid in turn. He didn’t have to shove the baster down our throats—he just held it up, and we eagerly took it in our mouths, and swallowed after he squeezed a mouthful into us.

Then he went along the line, hooking up the milking cups, and turning on the machines. I was last in line, and was almost shivering with eagerness by the time he reached me. Four nineteen’s satisfied sigh from the stall next to me as her machine was turned on almost drove me mad!

But then I was hooked up, and the machine started sucking, and a heaviness I hadn’t even noticed in my udders began to tingle with relief. I felt the milk splash around the cup as it squirted out of me, and I glowed with pride.

The dildo sliding into me was almost anticlimactic.

Almost.

After the dildo, the technician walked along the line of satisfied, pre-orgasmic cows, and put our headphones on us.

When he reached me, he paused.

“Hey, you’re the new cow. Hi, girl. Doc tells me you’ve got potential.” He pulled the earphones down from where they hung by their cord.

“Now this is something special,” he said. “This may just sound like noise, but it’s really subliminal messages, molding you into a better cow. You won’t hear them, but your nice drug-softened brain will believe them. Real soon, you will forget you ever wanted anything else.”

Hadn’t I already forgotten that?

What else would I...?

But then he put the headphones on me, and as I listened to their comforting hissing in my ears, I was happy that they were making me a better cow.

And soon enough, the dildo in my snatch had me coming again.

Those were my days. Milking in the morning, and just standing around with my herd in the afternoons. We would generally wind up having sex at least four, five times a day. Sometimes it was just in twosomes, sometimes threesomes, sometimes we formed a ring.

My udders kept getting bigger. That made me happy.

My skin also kept getting paler—my veins were now a delicate blue tracery beneath ghost-white skin.

Two twenty nine and two ninety had apparently finished their development into cows. Their skin and breasts remained about the same as the weeks and then the months passed. Eleven thirteen, like me, had a lot of development to do, but soon enough she became as white as I, and her udders also stretched toward the ground. Four nineteen became complete soon after I arrived, and seven sixty three was perhaps a month more developed than eleven thirteen and I.

But the days passed, and soon enough, we were all perfect.

Every now and then, the technician who milked us would give us the shots in our hands, or cut our hair into the short butch-girl cut that cows seemed to wear. Those were the only times I thought about hands, or hair.

One day, perhaps a month after I got there, a doctor I hadn’t seen—a man—came in, and led two twenty nine away. When she came back, she no longer had the restraints on her knees and elbows.

Of course, she had long ago forgotten what those joints were for.

Two ninety lost hers only a few weeks later. The calluses where they had been wore away, but none of the other cows ever tried to bend those joints. I wouldn’t have, either. Knees were for humans. We were cows.

Time passed, and they came and removed four nineteen’s, and then eleven thirteen’s, and then one day the doctor—the doctor, my doctor—came for me.

I mooed in pleasure at seeing her, and scampered over to her feet.

“Hello, little cow,” she said. “Come with me.”

I eagerly crawled after her. Not because I wanted my restraints removed—why would I?—but because I so wanted to obey her, to make her happy.

We went to an examining room, where I eagerly crawled up onto the table. I wanted her to see how my udders had grown! What a good milker I was!

I shivered as she took one of my udders in her hands.

“My, my. I was right, wasn’t I, five forty two? What huge breasts you’ve grown. And they tell me you’re giving wonderful, drug-rich milk.”

I glowed with her praise.

“And that’s really all you care about now, isn’t it? Obeying and giving milk. Fifteen months of a will-erasing cocktail and constant subliminal messages will do that.” She smiled at me.

Then she looked at her watch, and then back at me with a look of consideration. Then a smile.

I mooed.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it, little cow? But don’t you worry, I haven’t forgotten you. I know you’d be happy to just live out your short life in your pen with your herd, providing us with your oh-so useful titty juice.”

She leaned over to whisper in my ear. “But I haven’t forgotten about you, my little docile one. Fifteen years of bliss and milk production are in your future, yes, but I have something even more glorious planned for you.”

She checked her watch again, then seemed to make up her mind. “What the hell. You are my special one, after all. Cow,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, “come.”

Out of the room we went, her walking, me eagerly crawling after her.

The next room we entered had a bed in it.

She closed the door behind us.

Dumbly, I realized that she was going to make love with me.

The Doctor! Loving me!

I almost passed out in my joy.

There was a metal ramp leaning against a wall, which she laid against the bed, and motioned me up. I scrambled up to the top. It was soft.

“Okay, little one,” she said, “let’s take those props off.”

I knelt obediently on the bed as she bent to remove my braces. First she popped the lock on my arm braces, and removed them. Then the leg braces, with me obediently lifting each leg so that she could get to it.

I am proud to say that I didn’t bend those joints in the slightest.

The doctor took a step back, and sighed.

“You are so beautiful,” she said, as she took off her clothes with delicate hands.

I glowed.

Then she came to me, her soft hands touching me, and I mooed my delight. I stood on the bed as she stroked my udders, and my back, and my ass, and her hand moved to my already soaking slit and she smiled a radiant smile to see how eager I was for this.

“My little cow,” she whispered in my ear. “You love me too, don’t you?”

I mooed, and then my mouth was full of her tongue, and I sucked on it, and then she was pushing me over onto my side, and I rolled down and spread my legs, and then she was licking me, licking my huge, huge breasts, and sucking and sliding her mouth all over my pale white flesh, until she moved to my cunt, and just her breath on my slit and I was coming, twitching helplessly in my love for her.

But she was only getting started, and dove in, sucking up the juices that were dribbling from me with every jolt of love that raced up my spine. With a wicked smile, she crept up my body, and kissed me, and poured a mouthful of my own juice into my mouth, and we shared it and our tongues loved each other.

Then she lay on her back, and I licked my big cow tongue all over her high, firm breasts, and her tight stomach, and down to her glorious pussy, furred like mine wasn’t, and I dove inside and poured all my love and all my pussy-eating skill that my sisters had taught me into loving her, and then she was grabbing my hair and grunting and I tasted her love all over my tongue.

And then we did it all over again.

Some time later, the doctor sighed as she lay next to me.

“It’s a shame,” she said, petting my head and staring at my chest. “I wasn’t kidding about your having a short life. The drugs we’re giving you to turn you into little factories aren’t exactly longetivity-enhancing. You were, what, thirty-six when we caught you? And that was almost a year ago. So you’ve only got another fifteen or so years to go.”

I didn’t care. I was with the doctor.

She sighed again, and ran her fingers through my hair. “It’s a shame, really, because you are a special one. My special one.” Her hand moved to my arm, rigid as though still braced. “Like this. Most of the cows, when we remove their braces, have their joints surgically fused. They can’t move them. But you would never need that, would you?”

I mooed.

She kissed my forehead. “Of course not. But what will we do with you, when you can’t give us milk? We can’t let you go. And, to my great dismay, you’ve tested negative as a breeder.” She looked at me. “Why is that, I wonder? You’re not too old. But apparently, you’re not going to provide us with any offspring. And I’d love to start a breeding line from you.”

I just looked into her bright green eyes adoringly.

Then, to my dismay, she rolled off the bed, and went to her clothes. “Sadly, I have to get back to work now. I’m going to talk to the director about you, though, five forty two. If I have to use all my clout, I’m going to have you... well.” She smiled a small smile. “Just you wait and see.”

She got dressed. My braces didn’t go back on.

Then she led me back to my herd.

They could smell the sex on me, and crowded close to kiss and taste me. The doctor smiled as she closed the door.

A few weeks later, she came to see me again.

I had been milked, and was in the enjoyable process of tonguing out two twenty nine. The door opened, and I looked up over her asshole to see the doctor framed between two twenty nine’s cheeks.

I broke off my cunnilingus and ran to her.

“Come with me, five forty two. I’ve got something special for you.”

So I followed her out of the room, down a corridor that was new to me, and through a set of doors that were wood, not green-painted metal.

Then I was on a hardwood floor. I looked at the polished wood grain, surprised. It had been a long time since I’d seen wood.

“I’m going to leave you here, five forty two. I’ll be back to check on you in a few weeks. Be obedient.”

I mooed, sad to see her go. She left through the door behind me.

I waited.

After a while, another woman entered through a different door. She was barefoot, and as she approached, I noted that her skin was very pale. Of course, I didn’t raise my head to look at her face.

She stopped right in front of me.

“Five forty two,” she said. “Raise your head and look up at me.”

Confused, I did so. Long-neglected neck muscles complained.

I looked up, and saw tits. Huge, gigantic tits.

She was a cow!

Standing up!

“Five forty two, I am one eighty. I am a cow, like you. However, out owners need me to walk as a human does, and talk as a human does, and so I do. Because the most important thing in life is to obey our owners.”

That sounded right.

“You, five forty two, must become a cowgirl, like me. The doctor has commanded it.”

If the doctor wanted it, then that was what I would do!

“Lift your forelegs, five forty two, and clasp my hands.”

Fearfully, I lifted my forelegs. They bent at the elbows, and I grew worried, but then her hands were taking mine—and I could feel them, how very strange—and she was pulling on me, lifting me, and I rose onto my rear legs, and she was still pulling up and then I found myself on my feet.

My feet! I almost fell over from shock, and fear at my unnatural actions.

“Stand up, five forty two. You must obey.”

I must obey. I remained standing, although if she had released my hands, I would have toppled.

“We must mold you, five forty two, back into the semblance of a human. You must learn to walk again, and to talk again.”

I was looking into her eyes—big, brown, cow eyes, just like mine—and she was talking. It was so strange to see a cow talk. The number one eighty was clear on her forehead.

“Talking will be easier. Your collar has been deactivated, five forty two. I order you to speak.”

I stared, boggled at the impossibility of it, then realized that I must obey. My mouth opened, but all that emerged was a croak.

“What is your name?”

“fffffFive forty two,” I gasped in a tiny voice.

“Good,” one eighty said. “With that, we shall begin.”

Under one eighty’s tutelage, I became a cowgirl.

There were two parts to my development. First was muscular, rebuilding all the human muscles that had been so carefully eroded. Over many weeks, I re-learned to walk erect, like a human. I learned how to hold things, and to turn doorknobs, and to write.

It was terribly hard.

The easier part was working with my mind. Half of each day I spent speaking, re-learning how to talk. Most of this consisted of repeating mantras of obedience, but out loud. It was very important that I never start thinking of myself as a human, for I was a cow, now and forever. So all night I listened to the subliminals, shaping my thoughts, and all day I repeated the truth of them to myself.

And, now and then, I read the newspaper.

It was a Tuesday, according to the newspaper, when I saw the sun again. One eighty took me outside, for a walk. It felt... unnatural, and I was glad to be indoors again after only a few minutes.

But we began going for longer walks, after that. My skin began to take on some color again, although I was still an unnatural (for a human) white.

To my great joy, I was still considered a milker. One eighty and I both were hooked up to milking machines, on our knees, every day. Giving my milk was my center, my purpose. It helped me adjust to all of the other terrible changes that I was going through.

And both one eighty and I ate from a trough, filled with a slurry very like that which normal cows ate.

On a Thursday, in August, the doctor returned.

She beamed at me. “Five forty two! How wonderful to see you, adapting to your life as a cowgirl. How do you like it?”

I was beaming with joy from seeing the doctor, but I couldn’t disguise the doubt in my voice. “It’s not the same, doctor. I would rather be back in my pen with my herd.”

“Good,” the doctor said, nodding. “Don’t worry, five forty two, you will be. But I’ve had you turned into a cowgirl for a very special reason, one that is very important to us.” She went to a chair, and sat down. “Kneel,” she said, pointing at the floor in front of her, and I happily did so.

“Five forty two,” she began, “you were easily the most naturally submissive woman I’ve ever converted into a cow. Yes, I can see that pleases you. But it was not just personally enjoyable. It could be very important to the company.”

She slid a foot out of her shoes, and ran it down my bare thigh. Although we walked erect, one eighty and I of course wore no clothes other than our belts and collars.

“We don’t just milk our cows, five forty two. We also breed them. And cows are either breeders or milkers, never both at the same time. Ever wondered why none of the workers has slipped in for a quick fuck while you’re at your stall? Because pregnancy would do all sorts of things to your carefully maintained body chemistry.”

I hadn’t wondered, actually.

The doctor kept rubbing me with her foot. “One of the traits we would love to breed for is natural docility, something you have in spades. But sadly, you can’t breed for us.”

“I’m so sorry, doctor. I had a cyst shortly after—”

“I know, five forty two. We have all of your medical records. We know you can’t breed for us. But... your daughter could.”

My daughter.

Holly.

I’d had her when I was a teenager, young and stupid. We’d been such friends. She had only gone away to college two years ago.

No, three years ago. I had been a cow for well over a year.

Poor Holly. How terrible it must have been for her, having her mother—her single parent—simply disappear. At least, I hoped, she’d inherited everything.

“Five forty two?” the doctor asked, quietly.

“Yes, doctor?”

“Five forty two, a natural slave persona such as yours is too valuable to just give up. We want you to go home, to capture your daughter, and to bring her to us, so that we can make her into a cow, and breed her.” The doctor’s foot slid up and down my thigh. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, doctor,” I replied.

“Tell me what I want you do to.”

“You want me to go home, capture my daughter, and bring her to you.”

“And why do I want you to do that?”

“So you can breed her.”

“That is correct. Are you willing to do this?”

I answered without hesitation.

“Of course, doctor. I live to obey my owners. I will kidnap my daughter and bring her to you so that you can turn her into a cow.”

“Good girl. Then let me tell you how we shall proceed...”