Dairy man — Chapter 4 — the installation.
Naked, I followed him down the hall. I wasn’t the least bit concerned that I was walking down the hall completely starkers. What did it matter? Doctor said strip, I stripped. Doctor said walk; I walked. We passed several doors and the humming of the motor became louder, as did the moans. I also noticed a sort of sucking, whoosing sound, accompanied by a rhythmic clicking. We went through a door at the end of the hall. It opened onto a room that was larger than I would have expected. There were several cubicles on either side of the room. As doctor led me down the corridor, I saw low metal frames, each with a man strapped into it. Yesterday morning, I would probably have been alarmed and would have fled, but now, it seemed quite natural, although a part of my brain set off an alarm. “Get out,” it said. “Get out before it’s too late. If you don’t get out, you’ll be lost.” But my erection made me follow the doctor.
Perhaps that alarm made me hesitate, because doctor grabbed my erection and pulled me forward.
“C’mon boy. It’ll be all right. You’ll be happy here and we’ll have you producing at record volumes very soon. Let’s go,” Dr. Milchmann said.
“Yes sir,” I answered, following my hungry erection.
Dr. Milchmann led me to a cubicle that contained a cabinet, a machine that looked like some sort of pump, and a frame atop a platform. The platform was about waist height and the frame was very simple: a sturdy, rectangular cuboid frame of metal with eye-hook on the bottom corners and a thick brace at the far end with a half-circle cut into the upper part. I was curious, but I knew that doctor would explain.
“Up on the platform, boy,” doctor ordered, patting the surface.
I mounted the platform, kneeling on the edge, holding onto the frame for balance.
“Good boy. Stay right there for me. Make your doctor happy.”
I held on and waited, as ordered. If I wanted anything, it was to make doctor happy; he was going to make me a man! I would no longer feel lacking. Dr. Milchmann wrapped leather manacles around my wrists and wide leather straps around my legs, just above the knee. Then, using carabiners, he fastened my leg straps to one end of the frame.
“Now, lean forward. Put your neck in the brace; hands by the legs of the frame.”
I did as doctor ordered. I found that the frame was just the right size: my neck rested perfectly in the depression of the brace. Dr. Milchmann fastened my wrists to the frame and then picked up a thick piece that matched the brace. This he slid into slots in the uprights of the frame, creating a stock for my head. I was now completely immobilized. Suddenly, I felt a rising surge of panic! I couldn’t move! I was trapped. I began to pull at the bonds holding me and jerk my neck against the stocks. Dr. Milchmann placed a hand on my head and stroked my hair.
“Easy, boy, easy. Take a deep breath. Calm down. It’s all right, it’s all right,” he soothed.
I did as he said and relaxed.
“Look into my eyes Bradley,” he said, bending so that I could raise my eyes to look into his.
“Yes sir, doctor.”
“Just relax and trust me. I’m going to take good care of you. I’m your doctor and you’re my boy. Repeat that boy.”
“You’re my doctor and I’m your boy, sir.”
“Good boy. And you trust me, don’t you boy?”
“Yes sir, I trust you.”
“Tell me you trust me.”
“I trust you sir.”
“Good boy. And what am I going to do for you boy?”
“You’re going to turn me into a milk cow sir, a man cow.”
Where had that come from? I had no idea. Perhaps from my dreams? But the instant my lips said the words, I knew it was true. Doctor Milchmann was going to turn me into a milk cow. I was suddenly acutely aware of the sounds coming from all around me: the sounds of men moaning or mooing lowly as cattle will when they’re in their stalls; the sounds of milking machines pumping. My penis surged and slapped against my belly in an erection unlike any I’d had since I was an adolescent.
“Yes boy. You will become one of my dairy men; my man cows, giving your milk to benefit other men like you. You want that, don’t you boy? You want to help other men like you, don’t you Bradley boy? You want other men to become like you? To be turned into man cows?”
“Yes sir, I want to help other men be turned into man cows.”
“Good boy. Let’s get started then. I’m going to explain what I’m doing as I process you and induct you into my herd. There’s nothing to be worried about. Everything will be fine.”
“Thank you doctor. Thank you for helping me.”
“You’re welcome boy. Believe me, it’s my pleasure.”
Doctor rubbed lotion on my nipples and pulled on them, causing me to breathe in sharply.
“Ooh, sir…”
“Yes, I know boy. The elixir has helped you some, although I’m aware from my initial examination that you have sensitive nipple. So this lotion has hyoluronic acid in it. That helps your skin to be more supple. There is also fenugreek extract, which will cause your glands to grow; specifically, the glands in your nipples that have the capacity to produce milk. Men, in general, don’t produce milk, but with proper stimulation and the additional enhancers, you’ll soon be producing milk from your nipples, or more accurately, cheese. It will be very think, but there’s a market for male breast cheese. Some men love the flavor and the idea and will pay dearly for it, since it’s so hard to get.”
Doctor turned on the machine. I turned my head, bound in the stock and saw that he was holding two tubes with flared cups on the ends. He attached the cups to my nipples, which were immediately sucked in and began to expand.
“You’ll be wearing these two hours a day at first. We don’t want to over-pump you now, do we boy? That wouldn’t be good. But, when you’re not wearing these, I’ll be putting silicone cups on your nipples that will, over time, permanently grow them till they’re the size of the end of your finger and will produce man cheese at a prodigious rate. And sometimes, I’ll use weighted clips to stretch your nipples and give you titties. You’ll like that, won’t you boy?”
I couldn’t picture what he was describing, but I figured, if it made doctor happy, I’d be happy, though I was surprised to hear him use a vulgar word like titties. The idea of having titties embarrassed me. Was he also turning me into a fag? Nevertheless, I liked what he was telling me.
“Yes sir,” I answered.
“Good boy. Now, for the next step…”
Doctor picked up a bottle and squirted some fluid into the palm of his hand. This, he rubbed on my stiff penis, stroking me as he oiled me up. Then he took a larger tube with a rubber gasket at the end and some sort of sheath inside. Like the cups on my nipples, it was attached to the machine with a hose. He slid the sheath over my penis and it began to pump me. I moaned a deep moan; this simply felt too good. It was like getting a blow job without the bottom gagging on you. I moaned, raised my head and my eyes must’ve rolled back in their sockets. I was in pure bliss.
The pumping of my penis absorbed almost all of my attention, the remnant going to my nipples. But then doctor, standing to my side, held my head in his hand, raising it up.
“Open,” he ordered.
I opened my mouth and he slid a vinyl gag into it. He bucked the strap around the back of my head, fixing it in place, and I realized this was a cock gag, designed to train a submissive and to keep him from speaking. I continued to make moaning noises, but now there was no more speaking. Doctor released my head and I began to roll it around on my neck in ecstasy.
Doctor went to the back end of me and I felt his hands on my hole.
“I’m going to insert a prostate stimulator into your rectum, boy. It will help you to produce more semen. After all, that’s the goal of this entire organization.”
My sphincter was spread, fingers penetrated, renewing my moans. After a few minutes of them thrusting into and rotating around inside my anus, they were withdrawn, but quickly replaced by another object that spread my sphincters painfully until its widest part cleared the rings of muscle. The rings snapped around it and the pain faded, replaced by even greater pleasure, as the plug began to vibrate.
“Some days, I’ll insert a butt machine to fuck your anus. That’s just another way to increase your prostate output. Now, let’s get your installation completed.”
Doctor placed a pair of headphones over my head and I began to hear chatter, out of which I could recognize words here and there.
“noise, murmurs, noise milk, noise, noise, chatter, surrender, noise, noise whispers, submit, noise chatter, noise, slave.”
It went on and on and I realized the words, which I strained to pick out of the chatter, were taking over my mind. Then, I clearly heard Dr. Milchmann.
“All right Bradley. You’re now part of my herd. You’ll stay here for a couple of days until your mind is pretty-well erased, replacing what you’ve known with only the ideas of obedience, slavery, and submission. You’ll be like a dog, but with less volition. When I release you from the frame so that you can rest and be fed properly, I will remove the hair from your body. The chemicals you’ve ingested and will continue to ingest, will destroy your hair follicles so that you’ll become permanently, completely smooth and bald. Your penis will grow, your testicles will grow and your nipples will grow, producing the product that I market to those who very willingly pay a great deal of money for it. So welcome my new man cow, my dairy man. Welcome to the rest of your life.”
Thank you doctor, thank you sir.