Gromet's PlazaTransformation Stories

Cowbound

by Antin0my

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© Copyright 2020 - Antin0my - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; Machine/f; bond; bedtie; straps; straitjacket; cuffs; gag; drug; piercing; bodymod; insert; transform; hucow; nc; reluct; XXX

Emelie made another tired pull at her restraints, unable to budge even an inch. Whatever had decided to lock down her entire body, it had done a phenomenal job. Her whimpering body was completely stopped from doing anything other than waiting until she got free.

What made things much more confusing was how she’d gotten into this situation. She’d just gotten this bed earlier in the day, having paid for it to be assembled and installed. There had been no mention of any fetish things or creepy secrets from the company that manufactured this thing...Emelie wasn’t into that stuff.

Cuffs just above her feet kept her legs completely taut, denied the ability to bend. The most she could do was wiggle her toes and roll her foot a little bit. But because of how the lines were secured, she could neither push nor pull her lower body in any direction.

Shaking thighs revealed a one-piece straightjacket that showed off her hips. A wide strap reached underneath her crotch to cover up her most sensitive areas, yet making them flush with the surface of the underwear.

Sweat glistened underneath the wrappings. It hurt for her to pull, the chafing in all the wrong areas giving her a headache. The more she struggled, the more tired she became.

Emelie had been wearing panties, and a great deal of other clothing for that matter, before she’d been taken prisoner. But now she only felt the creeping of the straps as she woke up naked, afraid, and bedbound.

Some sort of sleeve had appeared over each elbow and then inflated, preventing either arm from bending. Massive gloves converted her nimble fingers into useless paws. They looked like huge flippers, with her fingers perfectly filling the holes made for them and staying straight along her wrist.

Her chest and back were locked down, her arms tied together and strapped close to her belly button. Beige straps criss-crossed over the ridges of her skin, curving around her breasts and suffocating them. Through all the thrashing, Emelie had felt several large buckles at her back, travelling the length of her spine. They were connected by a large strap that ended at her neck, which gave way to a stiff posture collar.

This device kept her neck and head straight with the rest of her body, keeping her eyes firmly fixed at the ceiling. A large ball gag stuffed her mouth, keeping her tongue out of the way in the process. This was connected with the posture collar, firmly locking down her jaw. Lastly, her hair was pulled into twin pigtails that formed two sides of a triangle with the edge of the bed. Emelie’s dark hair was pulled just tight enough to keep constant pressure on her head, but not enough to cause pain or lasting damage.

Frantically darting eyes could barely make out what was happening; the few facts at hand told Emelie she was helpless. Completely and utterly stuck. She couldn’t even look at the alarm clock on her nightstand to figure out how long she’d been stuck like this...Or how much longer it might go on for. Could her body survive the night like this?

Had it been minutes? Seconds? Even hours? Emelie didn’t even remember trying to go to sleep. Her mind had just woken up to this. Through all the bondage, the struggling girl couldn’t see a way out of this in which she kept struggling and making all the tight bonds even tighter. That didn’t stop her from yanking a few more times, but this only shot pain down every nerve, swiftly dousing the frenzied energy.

Every muscle was so sore and tired from all the fighting. She just wanted to go to sleep, to let this all be some terrible nightmare. Emelie would do anything to get out of here.

Her breathing slowed down considerably. Eyes began to blink out of focus, drooping one at a time. Rather than focusing on tensing and yanking on every possible bond, Emelie instead moved to relax her body and calm down. As the stillness continued, the tired woman felt her body become more and more slack.

It was clear that this situation wasn’t going to get better by fighting it. So why shouldn’t she just accept it, and see what came next?

A click bounced around the room, as if someone had flipped a switch. The captive girl heard the sound and registered it in her head, but she didn’t feel like reacting to it. If it was important, there was nothing she could do about it.

Low rumbles and shakes interrupted the silence again. The helpless damsel could feel them through the mattress, but had no response to the events that were occurring. Nor did she have a reply when the mattress began to gently sink into the bedframe, lowering Emelie to the bottom of some chamber. The bed frame used an elevator system to gently lower its prey deeper into the vestibule of bondage. Four of the six walls in this chamber were padded, completely soundproof.

When the sinking ceased, Emelie was still staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. She was just deep enough so that she knew she could get out with enough effort, but not with the energy that she had.

And why should she fight this? She felt comfortable here. Relaxing and letting go had only made her feel good. Whatever forces at work had clearly laid out a plan for Emelie, and getting in the way of it seemed to just make things worse. What good was there in stalling the inevitable?

Four pieces of a much lower ceiling began to seal themselves around Emelie’s enclosure. They were silent in their advance, slow and particular. Their march across her gaze provided much needed closure to the situation at hand: There was never a chance for this prisoner to escape. She’d been caught in this elaborate trap from the moment she got into bed.

All four components were triangle shaped: one above her head, one at her feet, and one on either side of the captive. The rim of each polygon featured interlocking bars that would link up with their siblings on the other triangles. As long as each plate met at the center of the mechanism at the same time, they would all fit perfectly together.

Emelie took one last look into her bedroom, embracing the outside world, before it was sealed off. With calculated precision, all of the locks were secured along the top of the cocoon. There was no room for failure in this operation, and the straitjacketed girl was barely a variable in this equation. She was content to be a constant, an accomplice in her own downfall. And she was happy to play her part.

There was a faint hissing noise as the small space was pressurized, isolating Emelie’s world from the one beyond. After some rumbling, air began to flow through small pores dotted around the room that would keep the contents of the case alive. The air was also tinged with a gas that significantly dampened Emelie’s cognitive functions, while ensuring that she would remain awake for what was to come.

Faint blue light began to illuminate the padded space, threading along the square patterns formed by the cushioned walls. Their light was not strong enough to cast a shadow, but it gave Emelie’s eyes enough to work with so that she could see the ceiling again.

But directly in the center of her vision, two circles at the center of connecting cushioned squares looked different. While every other light was some shade of blue, these two lights were a dim gray, almost white. Feeling much more awake and determined to appreciate what little sensation she had, Emelie stared up at the white lights.

They looked at her as much as she looked at them. What were they learning about her? What could they see? Against the blue of the room, these little orbs were reminiscent of the sun and the moon. Masters of the day and night. Emelie was caught in the realm between, with neither celestial body able to call down to her now. How much she wanted to talk to someone!

With a series of jolts and frenzied pulses, the little lights moved to a point further away from Emelie, closer to the end of the room. Though her head was still fixed in place, her eyes stretched as far as they could until they found her little beams again.

Had Emelie known that the spotlights were located right above her crotch, she could have prepared herself mentally for what was about to happen. Instead, she continued to stare straight at them, unaware of the mechanical arms arranging themselves to attack their prey.

One of them reached for a concealed zipper that ran the length of the straitjacket’s crotch. It pulled down on the extremely small grip and revealed Emelie’s virgin pussy. There was a pause, which gave several of her bonds an opportunity to adjust, tighten, and loosen in various directions. They kept a tight hold on their passenger, whose leer was still locked onto the two circles.

Emelie’s eyes continued to look at the two pretty lights above her. She was having such a nice conversation with them. The playful lights were big chatterboxes!

The zipper continued its journey underneath her body, coming to a stop above her asshole. All of her lower holes were now exposed. A bald vagina absorbed the blue light beaming down onto it. It was dry, though not for long.

Emelie felt a shiver down her spine as a sharp piercing made itself known on her clitoris, pinching and pulling it up. She had trouble keeping her attention trained on the two balls, what with all the mechanical arms getting in the way and doing something to her pussy. Her annoyance only grew in strength, and she struggled to bob her head and look around the arms.

She failed to notice the alterations being made to her crotch, and the bondage gear kept it off limits from her attempts to touch it. Buzzing, piercing, pulling, and pushing were just dull mutters in Emelie’s head as she resumed her idle chatter with the pretty lights.

The transformation of Emelie’s vagina took no less than twenty minutes to accomplish. When it finished, her once plain femininity looked far more garish.

Piercings lined the sides of her labia, connected to the straightjacket by a series of silver rings. At present, they pulled Emelie’s vagina open and allowed it to remain vacant. Her virgin pussy yearned to be filled and made whole. Her steady breathing caused the empty chasm to give the impression of its own respirations, opening and closing in sync with the rise and fall of Emelie’s chest.

An erect clitoris stood tall, with a metal bar stuck through the top of her clit. It had been pulled, coaxed, and massaged until it stood clearly defined outside of its hood. The tall nub was enclosed in a plastic sleeve that exposed it to much more attentive manipulation. The bar that crowned her clit ended with small threads on either side, and these fine strings merged with the fabric of the straightjacket to maintain the tension on her newest playspot.

Emelie’s pussy glistened in need. In anticipation. But she wasn’t aware of her horniness, or of anything else for that matter. Instead, her glazed eyes attempted to stay trained on those twinkling orbs, so far away. Could she reach them? Would she try?

As her struggles with the impossible task grew more dire, her asshole was fixed and neatly secured to the straightjacket. It was replete with piercings, jewels, and kept ajar by a large ring. It took an assortment of worker arms to carefully open up the sensitive rear to additional maintenance, with the preservation of her anal virginity being a top priority. Though the entryway to her forward and rear holes were warped beyond normal fetish play, their respective tunnels had preserved their tightness. This was important for what was to come.

All but one of the manipulative arms retreated into dark corners of the space. The only things remaining were Emelie and the zipper arm from the girl’s first installation. Starting from her butt, the zipper was slowly closed over the many rings that adorned her crotch. When the zipper was closed, it pulled the sensitive skin up off her body before flattening out and locking with the other rings. These devices could shift their locking structure and ensure that the appropriate entryway was either gaping open or sealed shut. As a result, the bouquet of bondage could be completely hidden underneath the zipper of the straitjacket.

In this situation, Emelie’s anus and cunt were kept aggressively tight until a more appropriate moment. Her clit was the only sign of her surgery, jutting out from above the zipper as an angry dot. The ring that spread her anus could collapse on itself and flatten out along the girl’s flat ass, once again keeping unwanted objects outside of her tensed rear.

The pretty lights hadn’t told their hypnotized charge that she should be feeling any pain from the procedure, so she didn’t. She received no instruction to feel pleasure when the zipper arm evaluated her erection, allowing it to observe and poke at the nub, while Emielie offered no reaction whatsoever.

With no warning, the dazzling lights began to aggressively jump around the ceiling, guiding the eyes of the damned damsel on a short leash. So many lights, so much movement, so dizzying and tiring. Emelie only listened to what she was told. She did not feel the unveiling of her belly button, and the deliberate probing of the cavity.

She was an innie, but that didn’t matter as fine tools began to work on her navel. The twin lights illuminated the dark metal that attacked Emelie’s body, casting shadows within the confined space.

After a series of electronic whirring sounds, the arms pulled back to reveal an artificial umbilical cord. It snaked its way from Emelie’s belly button towards the ceiling. Like the other additions, this construction had been affixed by small rings, threads, and exact positioning into the perfectly sized port.

This device would function similarly to a traditional umbilicus between a mother and a child, transferring materials to and from both parties. The differences lay in its aesthetics, looking far more electronic and industrial: its transparency revealed several inner tubes that travelled the length of the chute. Silver rings adorned the circumference of the cord and decorated the outside. Its anatomy was also fundamentally different in how it connected to Emelie’s physiology, achieving connections and bonds with long dormant veins and arteries.

It took more than an hour for the wires and tubes to apply themselves in a way that would not trigger an immune response or biological rejection. Of all the other changes that would be happening to Emelie, this was the most sensitive and precise. There was no room for error in this operation.

This implant would take care of Emelie very soon. She didn’t acknowledge her new connection to her prison at all, for she wasn’t aware that anything had happened. Once again, her slightly closed eyes just looked out into nothingness.

With another flurry of dances, the twinkly glows jumped around again. Emelie was much less enthused about trying to keep up this time, and was constantly one step behind. She’d look at where they just were, only to find them gone and in another location. Eventually, they shone onto the area that concealed her mediocre breasts.

A spider web of wires and tubes came to life underneath the straitjacket, measuring Emelie’s unremarkable assets. Emelie rarely wore bras in her past life, since there wasn’t a lot to support. She’d only worn them during the winter, or if she wasn’t wearing much else besides a top.

Two appendages came down to the surface and reached for the areas that concealed her nipples. Complex devices and tools flowered from the ends of the snake-like arms. The first of them identified and locked onto four zippers for each breast, which spread outward from the center of each target like a cross. In one motion, they unzipped the jacket and unveiled Emelie’s small mounds.

Her nipples had long been caught and forced up from the rest of her body, sustaining the arousal she felt. The small nubs would have stood up on their own in response to the cool air and motions of the arms on top of them, had they not already been raised.

Clawlike fixtures lowered themselves around each breast, locking in place on top of the ringed metal. Emelie’s skin was kneaded, her orbs squishing with what little mass they had until they appeared more like stout cylinders instead of rounded tops. The grip on her breast flesh gently but evenly prompted her breasts to rise as yeast does in heat.

In a single instant, two plastic tubes penetrated right through each nipple and lodged themselves firmly within Emelie’s mammaries. Due to how warped they were, the invaders were able to be planted far more deeply than without the claws holding on. Like the umbilicus, these implants would serve Emelie’s body in novel ways, giving and taking from her breasts when the time was right.

Unlike the faux organ, the two tubes in Emelie’s boobs had no equivalent biological process. She was incapable of thinking about the problem, or perceiving the weird things sticking out of her tits. Sure, the wires, arms, and science stuff had taken up her vision and all of her thoughts. But all that mattered was how great of a job she was doing. Emelie was being fixed! Made better! Who was she to question all of it? Faith kept her mind at ease, and she was happy.

Silenced until now, Emelie’s mouth was given freedom when the gag was unclipped. She’d been drooling for quite some time, and had no reason to stop doing so. Her body remained still, adjusting to all the new bits and pieces that were attached to her once clean frame. The slow movements of her chest confirmed that she felt no fear in her new home, and the dampness of her crotch indicated how much she was looking forward to what came next.

Compartments opened and closed out of sight of the subject, machinery cackling in the background. Though the bedframe appeared to take up a small area, there was a lot going on behind the scenes. Every square inch was occupied with important technology to capture, subdue, and transform their targets. All of the details for this operation had been planned well in advance.

Six long arms appeared from the center of the ceiling, and descended on Emelie. Each of the arms were jet black, with a sliver of transparent plastic running down four sides that would allow observers to see what was being transported. At the ends of each snake, a massive dildo glistened in the blue light. Long, thick, and ribbed, they were made to stuff, stimulate, and fill up a waiting hole.

Emelie was allowed to taste the tip of one, and noted the strong smell of plastic. Her tongue swirled around the head, admiring the taste. It slid out to rest on top of her lips, prompting Emelie to give it a quick kiss. This fake dick was brand new, and needed to be broken in. Just like she did!

The rest of the arms moved to their positions, waiting for the opportunity to attack. Two dicks clicked onto the tops of the tubes that descended through her breasts. The same thing happened to the umbilicus, ready to be put to use.

The last two dicks aimed themselves over Emelie’s vagina and anus, which had been silently opened up. They gaped wide, ready and willing to receive something wonderful.

But was Emelie ready? Her face said yes, as she did her best to tantalize the cock in front of her face. She wanted nothing more to be fucked and filled beyond recognition. There was no need for her to say anything; her eyes and mouth did all the talking.

Without further delay, all six dicks assaulted the poor girl. A massive penis slid past her tongue and down her throat much too fast to trigger a reflexive gag. Her tit dicks confirmed the lock on her tubes, then began pumping a white fluid into her. The umbilical penis mirrored this, allowing white fluid to flow directly into her body.

The stretched cunt and asshole were met with new companions, the fake dicks sliding in with some difficulty. The gaping rings helped, though Emelie was still technically a virgin. That would change with the perfect fit of the cocks, rubbing the inside of her canals with their ridges and huge heads. Soon, they too began to pump a thick, white fluid deep into their new home. There was no foreplay, no warning, no pistoning in and out. Just an onslaught of cream being injected throughout every fiber of Emelie’s being.

It was all so clear! Everything that had just happened was designed to happen this way, at this time, to her. Until now, Emelie had been lost in a mindless cycle of life. Eat, sleep, study, work, socialize, date, and repeat. There had never been the chance for her to contribute all too much in any of these roles.

Sure, she was a teaching assistant and had done a decent amount of volunteer work. But these acts were so small in magnitude, barely scratching the surface of doing something huge and meaningful with her life. Why did Emelie feel the need to cling onto the dreams of being like everyone else? What if there was a way to have purpose beyond the confines of her small corner of the sky, and do something big for others?

Now here she was, the most important part of a grand design that revolved around her. Little old her! How could she reject a new destiny like that?

Hours passed as Emelie was bloated with the white gold. The liquid became one with her organic chemistry, rewriting her biology and defining Emelie’s new purpose. Blood still flowed through Emelie’s veins, and the sweat dripping from her cheeks had not changed in composition. However, Emelie’s body and mind had been given a new purpose: to produce milk and to be bred. Driven with her new mantra, the girl gladly accepted these changes and made them a part of her very soul. There was no greater joy in life than to have her body be a true producer of goods, giving real things back into the world!

But...there were two souls here. In her mind, the old Emelie struggled vainly to break free and get out of this craziness. It was insane! She looked like a medical freakshow! And the worst part was that there was no way for her to react, to call for help, or do anything! Even her eyes were condemned to stare blankly at the ceiling, dead and blank.

The new part of Emelie could feel the confusion and frustration coming from the other side of her heart. It was time for her to let go of the past, to put the dreariness behind her. She was ready to do it.

A click echoed around her breasts, and the flow of sap ceased to travel down her breasts. The tubes that ran through her nipples disconnected themselves, raising up from her tits to fully excavate themselves. While flat mounds once called themselves home here, the tits that proudly jutted out were the size of soccer balls. Long nipples displayed their erections, eager to be touched.

Emelie could feel the pressure that yearned to break from the peaks. It was so unbearable! Just make it go away! She needed to let her boobs sing!

With a pinch, a pull, and a suck, the tightness was immediately released. Emelie felt the wonder of her tits being milked, the sucking of the tubes on both tits. The sound of liquid travelling up the plastic with every tug reminded her of those crazy bendy straws, with so many twists and turns, taking every possible diversion before finding their destination.

Like those straws, Emelie knew that she’d gone through kind of the same thing. Her body, mind, and soul had been on a turbulent and extremely busy journey, but she was now being rewarded for her patience and perseverance. There was nothing she could have done to stop this chain of events from occurring. And even if there was a way, would Emelie really want to, especially now that she knew what was on the other side?

For each spray of milk that was captured from her tits, Emelie knew that a part of the old Emelie was going away. She didn’t have that “Memory flashing before your eyes before you forget it” experience at all. Her way of measuring her emptiness was by how much more relaxed she felt after another chunk of the past was forgotten. It was a weight off her chest, the serenity of not remembering the pain of it all.

There came a time when her name, her identity, travelled up the tube and went away forever. What was she after that? Milk and tits? Without a name, the girl struggled to do anything. But a new word came to her, one that made everything make sense.

Cow. She was Cow. Not a cow, but her new name was Cow. Where just a few minutes ago she was empty of all purpose, she now understood that she was Cow. This was her motivation in life, her willpower.

Cow had a violent, shuddering orgasm at the recognition of her new identity. It was her first orgasm as Cow, and it would be far from her last. Moans barely escaped around the penis in her mouth, her head attempting to jerk around given the strict bondage she was still beholden to.

She was told what Cow’s role in life was, who she was, how she was brought up, and why she was Cow. Instructions, commands, and memories installed themselves through Cow’s umbilicus, down her throat, and from the twinkling lights that shined down onto Cow. She appreciated all the help she was being given in learning more about herself!

As cum jettisoned itself from Cow’s cunt, squeezing around the massive dick that was giving it great pleasure, it began to take on a thick, white composition. For every orgasm that Cow embraced, her girl cum became less and less human, now becoming more of a steady flow than hasty spurts. The cum leaked out like a waterfall, continuously dripping onto the padding below. Before long, Cow’s cum had transformed into fresh, though sex-laden, milk.

Now that at least three of Cow’s holes were milk producers, the rest of her transformation could continue.

All of the dildos began to eject themselves from Cow, slowly sliding out from where they had been mercilessly pumping into her. She groaned around the cock in her mouth, and witnessed it slip by her lips and away from her view. A slow groan escaped from her lips as she regained her voice, though the sound was more animal than it was human.

Three more dicks, on her umbilicus, cunt, and asshole, all retreated and disappeared from sight. They continued to pump milk onto her body as they ascended into the air, refreshing the milky scent in the air and spraying it over her skin and straitjacket.

Though Cow’s orgasm marathon had stopped, milk continued to slowly drool from her cunt. The silver rings piercing her lips framed the slow drip as her body maintained the production of this white gold. Her milk leaked onto the floor, soaking through the cushions beneath her body, leaving a strong stain and odor behind.

Now that Cow was lactating, she could be further transitioned into her new life. A flurry of robotic arms launched another assault on her body. Some of them held fancy devices in their hands, others had black and white things hanging off of them.

Blood rushed through her extremities as her arms and legs were freed from bondage, shining with sweat and dried milk. The straitjacket around Cow’s body was removed in the process, as were the cuffs and other chains around her feet. Her restrictive posture collar and hair ties relieved a large amount of tension on Cow’s head when they too were detached.

There was no more risk of Cow running off and doing something dangerous. She was right where she wanted to be! There was a faint appreciation for her mechanical masters, so incredible they were, before her legs and arms became encased in black-and-white sleeves.

All four articles were marked with cow print, running up the entire length of Cow’s body parts. Cow’s hands transformed into cloven hooves, void of any fingers. She would never be able to use her individual digits again, though she’d already forgotten the memories of having had them in the first place. Her black hooves were the tips of black and white arms, dotted with the spots of a healthy bovine.

The once unique toes and heels were connected by a dark mold that consumed her foot in a perfect fit. Powerful boots were affixed to Cow’s feet and legs, giving her the strength she would need to stand on her new hooves. Similar to the hooves on her hands, Cow no longer possessed individual toes or a heel. Instead, inky constructs of blackness contained any human aspects of her legs. Cow spots trailed up her ankles and thighs, ending just below her crotch. Her pussy continued to slabber milk onto the floor as her cunt lay vacant.

Without warning, Cow’s lower holes were filled again with massive dicks. They rubbed themselves against the rings on its asshole and vagina, triggering another round of orgasms. Rather than pistoning anything into the cow’s body, or injecting anything into it, these dildos were the basis of an enclosure that would stimulate Cow, and retrieve all milk produced in her ass, cunt, or clitoris. All of this milk was funneled into a huge strapon penis that was being installed onto her crotch, connecting with the metal bar at the paramount of Cow’s clit. Any movement of her newest toy would provoke unparalleled stimulation in her nether regions.

Cow’s new dick boldly stood tall, steady in its strength and fitness. Milk already began to accumulate in the plastic balls that were attached to the dick, as they began to draw from Cow’s ass and vagina. They slowly inflated, storing the milk until it could be put to use or extracted. Before long, Cow’s masculine member hardened and lengthened with the volume of milk she was producing.

More milk would be saved within Cow’s new udder, which had been secured into her belly button and positioned on her stomach. Four long and pink nipples adorned the soft mass that would serve as another provider of milk. Even while facing the ceiling, Cow’s udder started to become erect with milk that was now being excreted from her belly button.

This was soon fixed, as Cow felt herself be lifted up from the ground and rotated in the air. The move was done slowly to prompt more milk to flow out of all her glands, now aided by gravity. Had this lift been too fast, it would have caused milk to slosh around and painfully jerk Cow’s body around.

Milk began to bead at the tips of all six of her nipples, dripping into the floor. Cow was unable to find the massive amount of strength she needed to hold back the milk in her dick, and she began to shoot short and hard spurts of creamy milk below her.

Encouraged by the flow of milk, Cow was let down onto the floor, resting on her hooves. She had been equipped with the muscle memory necessary to stand on her hooves, as there was no recollection of ever being able to walk on two hind feet. Cow adjusted her stance as the last of her bonds and machines sunk away.

Cow’s huge eyes betrayed an empty mind, a being defined by milk and sensation. She wasn’t able to think all that much about her transformation. Had she been able to, Cow would not have thought anything wrong of the circumstances. She’d always been a cow, and would continue to be a cow for as long as she lived.

The sound of the cowbell ringed through Cow’s ears as it tightened around her neck. Etched onto the surface of the bell were the numbers “0001”. With the twinkling of her bell, a calming warmth came over Cow as she shuddered, feeling the pressure continue to build and build in her body. Cow wouldn’t be able to hold back for too much longer...she needed to be milked! If she wasn’t, it would only get messy.

Lights in the little room began to flicker, changing colors and intensity rapidly as Cow looked straight ahead. Her friends, the two lights, had come to her eye level again. This time, they were closer to her than they’d ever been, almost jumping off the wall.

They blinked once, flashing a bright red. Cow listened intently, her brain unable to comprehend what her body was being told to do.

A yellow flash followed shortly after, letting out some more drips of milk. Goosebumps spread over her skin as Cow received the last of her instruction, “Moooooooo!”ing in acknowledgement.

With a brilliant green light, Cow almost collapsed with a volcanic orgasm. She let out a bellowing “MOOO!” as the wall of milk broke down inside her, releasing huge streams of milk from her tits, udder, and penis. It was music to Cow’s ears as she heard the spray of her white gold splatter all over the floor, where it happily drained away.

The bovine wasn’t capable of much else than lactating, but she let out a huge smile as she basked in the pressure releasing from her chest and crotch. She could stay like this forever! She HAD been doing this forever.

There was a loud “CLICK” in the chamber, and the wall with the two lights sunk into the floor as Cow was provided an exit from her operating room. Prancing forward with no effort, Cow arrived in her milking stall, the center of her universe.

Beams of light shone through the windows, illuminating the rustic interior of the farmhouse. Hay was scattered all along the floor and throughout the stalls. Each stall was home to its own cow, animals who lived to be bred and milked.

This is where Cow lived her life, and the only life she had any memory of. Unknown to Cow, she was special, the first human bovine to join this particular farm. She would be far from the last, as the success of her fully automated capture, evolution, and cow-ification would prompt further investment and rollout of the process. Before long, more and more cows would be replaced with human Cows, far more efficient and productive than using animal cows. Humans were also far easier to breed, though Cow had yet to experience the power of the bulls. She envied their massive cocks as they rammed themselves into other cows on the farm. Why couldn’t that be her?

The sound of her milking machine attaching itself to Cow broke her limited train of thought, and she emptied out all other thoughts at the same time as her milk was drained from her tight bosom. Seven milking cups affixed themselves to Cow, and she easily let go of all the stress she’d had over the past few hours.

She let out a low “Moooooo...” as milk floated away from her body, safely escorted from the confines of her chest.

05.01.2021

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