The New Hucow Joins the Herd

Book 1 in Hucow Dairy Farm Dystopia

Lola Little
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 Copyright © 2022 Lola Little

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living
or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written
permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456

Cover design by: Art Painter

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America

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 Contents

Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Lola Little

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 Chapter 1
I pulled against his grip, but he’d got me tight. He was so much
bigger and stronger than me. There was no way I could pull my hands from
the grip around my wrists.
“No! No!” I squealed, as he pulled my wrists higher, almost lifting
me from the ground. With his other hand, he began to grope me — his large
hand tearing roughly at my clothes.
“No!” I screamed again as he ripped my dress open and exposed my
breasts.
“I’m hungry. I’m gonna suck you dry,” he growled.
I fought again, trying to pull away but it was no good.
His mouth came closer and closer to my naked breast.
In shock, I saw I was already spurting milk, my breast leaking and
dripping, as if it wanted this man to suckle me.
“No, no,” I moaned again, thrashing in his grip.
But even as I fought to get away, a part of me wanted him to touch
me — wanted his rough hands grasping at my naked breast.
Desire rushed through me as his mouth came closer, determined to
suck on my pink nipple.
“No,” I cried out again, but knowing I wanted it too.
“Sh, Daphne. It’s alright.” Soft hands shook my shoulder, and
slowly I awoke.
With a surge of relief, I realized I hadn't been caught by a hungry
male, determined to suckle from me.
I was still safe at home.
But... But… Deep inside me, I was disappointed.
How would it have felt to have those lips close around my nipple
and suck it hard? To feed a hungry, grown man with my own milk? My
hand strayed to my newly-plump breast and squeezed it gently.
“Were you having a nightmare, Daphne?” the voice asked. It was
Clare, my younger sister.
“Yes. Maybe I’m worried about tomorrow.”
My sister sighed. “I’m going to miss you.”
 “I’ll still be here — I’ll just be on the farm. They’ll let me go after a
few months, once I’ve contributed, and then I’ll be back home again and
everything will be just the same.”
I wasn't sure this was true.
All I knew was that now I'd turned eighteen, and with no particular
skills, I'd been assigned to food production. I would join the herd of women
who produced food for our small, barricaded city-state.
Mama had complained to the City Elders, saying that no Alexander
girl should ever go to such a terrible place. But they didn't care.
Food was in such short supply, and our fine name and noble past
meant nothing to them anymore.
I suspected that they almost took delight in assigning me to the dairy
farm, secretly pleased to have some revenge for all the high-handed
treatment my family had doled out in the past.
One thing I’d learned, if you were rich and mean, you’d better stay
rich, or you were really going to suffer.
Once, my family had been the biggest landowners for miles around,
rich for generations past. They weren’t anymore.
Savage tribes had claimed the land. Normal farming wasn’t possible
anymore.
My family had almost nothing now, and I had to play my part, just
like any other girl.
It didn't matter that I was technically an aristocrat. I was a woman,
and that was all that mattered.
I’d already been taking the special tablets twice a day for a week in
preparation for this.
Every mealtime when I swallowed the big bulky pills, my Mama
gave me a disgusted look, as if she couldn't believe I was going along with
it. But what choice did I have?
I had to do my duty, along with every other person.
And my duty was beginning tomorrow.
I looked out at the light morning sky. Not tomorrow. Today.
I never told anyone that a part of me was looking forward to it — to
getting away from Mama and her strict rules and her bitterness at the world
— and maybe, just maybe, to some of the other things that were rumored to
happen at these new dairy farms.
I shivered and pulled the blanket around me more tightly.
 I’d heard things about the women on the farms. Good things
sometimes — about how they were always kept warm and dry and well-fed.
What a luxury, in these days of shortages and starvation!
But other more frightening whispers had reached me too — about
how the women were treated as beasts… About how the men used their
bodies for their own pleasures… About women being bred by strangers and
birthing like animals.
I closed my eyes again, wondering if I should have fought harder
against being sent to the farm. But as I thought about all the terrible,
undignified, humiliating, sexual things the men might do to me there, I got
that strange tingle between my legs again — the one that made me wonder
if I was going to enjoy this, just a little bit.
I drifted back into an uneasy sleep for an hour, my dreams full of
farming and milking and hungry, hungry mouths.

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 Chapter 2
I tried to hold my simple cotton dress over my body. But just like in
my dream, rough hands were pulling at it, refusing to let go. Except these
large, rough hands belonged to the Farm Manager, a man named Bill — and
he was stripping me off in the inspection pen.
It was bad enough being led into a straw-filled enclosure and
expected to get naked in front of an older man I'd never even met before —
but to make it worse, there was a whole group of farm workers hanging
around.
They laughed and jeered as I tried to hold on to my dress, wanting to
protect my modesty. I had no underwear on. I didn't even own any. So there
was nothing but the dress between my naked body and all these men.
But that wasn't the worst part of all. I knew this was making me
aroused, and I felt deeply ashamed of that.
Just like when the man had attacked me in my dream, I was getting
that hot pulsing throb between my legs. Maybe it was because of the
medication I’d been on, but my body felt different — more alive, more
responsive, as if it was hungry for sensation.
“This is young Daphne Alexander. Many of you remember her
family and how they ran their farm. Some of you might have suffered from
their low wages, the whippings, the tough conditions. Well, things have
changed now, and here’s pretty, sweet Daphne, just turned eighteen and
joining our farm. I’m sure none of you will want to take revenge on her for
how her family has treated your families over the years.”
I stared down at the floor. I'd hoped no one would find out who I
was — but there was no hope of that now. They all knew I was from the
once-mighty Alexander family, now fallen on hard times.
I just hoped these men would understand that I had nothing to do
with the way my family and ancestors had run things. I knew they’d been
cruel and ruthless, and flaunted their wealth and privilege while their
workers had starved. But we were starving too now.
The Farm Manager, Bill, pulled harder on my dress. “Give it up,
young Daphne. You don't need clothes here. You’re not a fancy lady
anymore. You’re one of my animals now. And all the boys want to see the
goods.”
The watching farmhands gave a rowdy cheer as I finally let go and
let Bill pull my dress off over my head.
I clutched at myself, desperate to cover my nakedness with one arm
crossed over my newly developed breasts, and the other covering my pussy.
I was a virgin, of course, and no man had ever seen my naked body.
A blush rushed up through my chest and neck and face.
Bill threw my dress down and said, “Well, let’s have a good look at
you. It seems that posh girls look just the same as ordinary ones, once you
get their clothes off. Jared, come and hold her. She’s feisty. But we’ll soon
whip that out of her if she won't obey!”
A tall, young man with thick dark hair jumped down from the bales
of straw and approached me. “Settle down now, it’s okay. We just need to
have a good look at you,” he said soothingly, as if it was the most natural
thing in the world for a young woman like me to be stripped and examined
in front of a crowd of men.
His tone was reassuring, and I let him stand close behind me and
grip my wrists, pulling my hands away from their defensive posture and
behind my back. My nakedness was fully exposed now.
He held me tightly, and my bare ass was pressing into his broad
body as he pulled me back against him.
“Now, look at these fine plump breasts.” Bill raised his hands and
touched my titties.
I flinched and twisted my head away, not able to watch the shameful
sight of a stranger toying with my virgin breasts.
My chest had already grown so much in the last few days. From
being flat-chested, I now had these two heavy things blossoming on my
chest.
Bill weighed them in his hands and squeezed them, massaging them
almost too firmly.
If I just closed my eyes and forgot who was doing it and who was
watching, I could almost enjoy it.
Touching them felt good. I'd been sneaking little squeezes of them
all week, marveling at their increased size and sensitivity.
Bill tweaked my nipples.
“Oh!” I cried out, in shock.
 Then he pinched both my nipples, too hard, pulling them away from
my body.
Everyone laughed at my exclamation, and at the sight of my titties
being so roughly handled.
I tried to pull away, but that just made me lean harder against Jared.
He pressed into me, whispering, “Yes, that’s right. You grind that
hot ass into my cock.”
Another shocked cry escaped my lips. I wasn't doing that! And yet I
could feel something hard and long and thick pushing through his pants,
and rubbing on my ass cheeks.
Bill let go of my titties and began to slap them softly, making them
jiggle and bounce. “Let’s see. About a 34D. Not bad. Not bad at all for the
initial stage. But we need these puppies to be much much bigger.”
I moaned as he slapped and pulled on my breasts, almost as if he
was trying to pull and stretch them bigger.
Glancing around, I saw all the watching men staring at my naked
body, their faces eager and excited.
I blushed again, all too aware of how helpless and exposed I was.
But between my legs, there was that continuous throb of arousal and
excitement. At least they didn't know that beneath my shame and fear, I was
enjoying this.
Jared let go of one of my arms briefly and thrust a hand between us.
What was he doing — trying to touch my butt?
Oh, God. I understood immediately as his manhood touched my ass
cheek, without even the fabric of his pants between us.
He’d freed his length and now it was rubbing directly on my ass.
He wrapped his arm around me, pulling my hips back tightly against
his groin and rubbed his cock into my ass.
His hand grabbed my pussy, pressing me harder back against him. I
struggled, trying to escape, but he had me tight. I couldn't let him know I
was enjoying this — the shame, the way he was manhandling me, being
exposed like this. I didn't know why it was making me so aroused, but it
was.
One long finger slid between my folds, and I squealed as he touched
me, right there.
Bill laughed at my noise. “Open her up, Jared, let’s see if we can
make this little squealer squeal even more loudly.”
 Bill pulled my legs apart, and Jared’s hand was exploring my pussy.
“No, no, “I moaned, as my legs were spread wider.
Bill knelt in front of me and used both hands to pull my pussy wide
open. All the men could see not only my virgin pussy, but the pink wetness
inside it.
He held it wide while Jared’s fingers continued to explore me.
One finger touched the entrance to my little tunnel.
“She's wet. She’s dripping,” he announced to all the men. “Look.
She’s desperate for this.”
He pushed a finger roughly into me and I almost buckled at the
shock.
Nothing had ever penetrated me before.
It should hurt, shouldn't it? But it didn't. If anything, it felt good to
have Jared’s long, thick finger spearing into me.
He pulled it out and held it up, turning it in front of the watching
men. “See. Covered in juice. She’s a hot one.”
Bill laughed. “She’ll respond well to the treatment. I can't wait to
get her fattened up and productive. Those little titties will be bursting with
milk soon and we’ll be milking her properly in a few days.”
I could barely take in his words.
“Boys, let's get one of you sucking each titty and see if you can get
anything out of them. Who wants to volunteer?”
Why did I feel so proud that every single man raised his hand and
rushed forward?
“You — and you.” Bill pointed at two of them and they stood either
side of me, both immediately grabbing at my breasts.
One on each, they fondled and squeezed them, and then — oh
heaven! — they began to suckle me.
I’d been dreaming of this ever since I started on those tablets and it
felt as good as I’d hoped. Soft lips, firm sucking mouths, hot and wet,
tongues mashing my nipples, pulling hard…
I closed my eyes, whimpering in desire, shocked at myself and how
easily I had given in to these men.
Jared was still fingering me, and Bill was holding my outer lips
wide, spreading my pussy open for everyone to see. But it was the way
Jared was touching me that was consuming all my attention — that and the
hot, wet mouths sucking on my nipples.
 Jared was forcing two fingers inside me, stretching my little tunnel,
making me take them — but in between each thrust he was touching me at
the top of my slit, rubbing a little hot nubbin — the same place I touched at
night sometimes.
How did he know that it made me weak and tremble with desire?
Again, two fingers thrust deep inside me, making my groan, and
then, slick with my own juice, he stroked hard and fast over my clit.
I whimpered now, not sure what would happen. I’d never dared to
touch it this much before. I'd always stopped, afraid that my sisters would
realize what I was doing with my furtive touches. But Jared wasn't
stopping.
In front of all these men, my legs spread, my titties bouncing and
jiggling as strangers sucked on them, Bill pulling my lips wide, exposing
me, Jared was relentlessly rubbing and touching me there.
“Bring her off,” Bill commanded. “Do her clit hard while I finger
her. I want young Daphne Alexander to scream for it.”
He forced his own fingers inside me — three of them pushing into
me, stretching me. And Jared was focusing entirely on my clit.
With the flat of three fingers he rubbed it roughly and insistently, not
stopping at all.
I was shuddering with shock at the intensity of the feeling. It was
filling me with an urgent desire, making me wet and loose and full of need.
“Yes, yes,” I cried out, now even knowing I was speaking.
“Oh, our little aristocrat isn't so fancy anymore. She’s gagging for
it,” Bill said, thrusting his fingers harder into me.
Inside I was full of hot pulses of utter bliss, shaking through me,
taking over until I moaned and cried, “Yes, I’m coming!”
A deep feeling of release took hold of me as I spurted something
from my pussy and even my titties felt like they were hot and giving.
Jared continued to rub relentlessly on my clit, forcing another wave
of intense pleasure to rush through me, and I was spurting again, and my
titties were throbbing as if they wanted to spurt out too.
“She’s a squirter,” Bill announced, laughing. “Look at all that juice.
Miss Alexander is just a dirty little squirter, as desperate for it as any other
common slut.”
I looked down, and could just see another little torrent of liquid
spraying from my pussy.
 What was that? Why was it happening? But I couldn't think about it,
not when I was shaking and moaning and my titties were feeling so hot and
ready.
“I got milk,” one of the men exclaimed, lifting his head away. “Just
a drop, but she’s started already. Look.”
He pinched and pulled my nipple, and all the men craned their heads
closer, watching as Bill touched a fingertip to the little white droplet and
then brought it to his lips.
“We got another milker, boys!” he said with glee and a cheer ran out
though the room.
The two men lowered their heads again and sucked some more, and
I couldn't help but moan in delight as my breasts seemed to fill with an
urgent need to release again.
I leaned weakly back against Jared, shaken by the power of the
climax.
It was my first ever, and it had been forced out of me, in front of all
these men. And I'd squirted out stuff from my pussy too, and milk from my
titties.
They knew — they all knew — that I was a wanton little slut.
Despite all my good manners and my upbringing, I was just a slut
who loved what they had done to me.
Bill rested his hands on my shoulder. “Right, boys, leave her titties
for now. We’ll get her set up in a milking pen, and in a couple of days,
she’ll be producing properly and you can drink your fill.”
The men left me, and I stood there, still shocked by the strength of
my reaction to their touches.
Shame filled me again, but I knew I would let them do it to me
again. That feeling of being used, of being taken, of being forced to climax
was something I wanted again and again.
“Go on, hucow. Jared will take you to your new home.” Bill spoke
almost kindly.
I nodded weakly, all the fight gone from me.
I was their animal, their milk-cow, and there wasn't a damn thing I
could do about it.

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 Chapter 3
I was led to a stall with two other women. They barely looked like
women anymore.
On their hands and knees, they waited patiently, chained to the wall,
their enormous udders hanging heavy below them.
“Welcome to your new home, Daphne,” Jared said.
I looked around, shocked by what I saw. The women looked at me
with docile, passive eyes, soon returning to sucking on their feeding tubes,
or just dozing with half-closed eyes. They didn't even speak to me.
“Move your fat ass,” Jared said brusquely to one of them, and
slapped her naked rump hard, until she reluctantly shifted herself out of the
way.
I could see a chain and collar hanging from the space now. Was that
for me?
This was all getting too real. Being stripped and shamed in front of
all those men was bad enough, but to be collared, like a dumb beast was
going too far.
“Hands and knees. Collar and tag time.” Jared pushed me between
my shoulder blades until I dropped to the floor.
It felt unnatural to kneel there in the deep thick straw, naked, facing
the wooden wall.
Jared pulled the collar, making the chain jangle and put it around my
neck. He tightened it up and I felt the soft leather band gripping my throat.
He jerked my head up, making me look at him, and for a second the
collar was so tight that I couldn't breathe.
“You belong to me now, Miss Daphne Alexander. Your fancy family
and fine ways mean nothing here. I could choke the life out of your right
now and nobody would give a damn. You just remember that.”
I nodded, willing to agree to anything if he would just release the
pressure.
He loosened the collar and buckled it securely.
I dragged in a long breath, knowing his words were probably true.
What could anyone do if I never came back from the farm? Who would
ever know what had happened to me?
 He picked up a device like a big chunky gun.
“Time for your ear tag,” he said, pulling my ear lobe between the
jaws of the machine.
“Oh! What are you —?” Then my words were lost in a scream as
something pierced my ear, right through my flesh.
My hand whipped up to hold my ear. I could just feel a plastic tag
hanging from it, and blood dripping onto my fingers.
“You are cow number 891 now. A hucow. An animal. And you
belong to us.”
Jared looked down at me, smiling at my confusion and fear.
I glanced around and saw the other women were all tagged too. The
thing was right through my ear, and wasn’t coming out.
“Hands. Hold them up.”
I did as he asked and he buckled thick, padded mitts around them.
Once they were in pace, my hands were almost useless, as if I was wearing
boxing gloves.
He slid pads onto my knees too.
“These will protect your hands and knees, now you walk on all
fours,” he said.
Then he grabbed a thick plastic tube that was hanging down in front
of me. “This is the feeding tube. Whenever you suck on it, food or drink
will come out. Eat and drink as much as you can. The bigger you get the
less likely we are to throw you out to the wild men outside the city walls.”
My eyes widened. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah. Not all of you cows will make it home. Only the good ones
— the obedient ones! And your job now is to fatten up. Your pathetic little
titties are no good like that. The special food will make them grow real
fast.”
He leaned down and massaged my breasts, seeming to enjoy the feel
of them even as he was insulting their pitiful size. Compared to the women
around me, they were tiny. But that didn't stop Jared from rubbing them and
squeezing them.
After a few moments, he paused, and I thought he was done. But
instead, he unzipped his pants and took out his cock.
“No. No. What are you doing? Why are you—?” But I couldn't
finish my question. He was jabbing the head of his thing at my lips!
 I wanted to scream in shock but I didn't dare open my mouth. I
shook my head, my eyes wide with outrage. What on earth was he doing?
He laughed at my reaction. “I’m going to enjoy watching you lose
your high and mighty ways. Soon, you’ll be a little hucow slut and you’ll be
begging to suck my cock.”
He was rubbing himself quickly, his hand working up and down his
thick manhood.
Suck it? I was shocked at the very idea. Did people really do that —
willingly?
He grabbed the collar chain of the woman next to me and pulled her
head closer. The woman opened her eyes, and then immediately opened her
mouth.
“Watch and learn, Daphne-cow. See how placid and obedient this
one is? You’ll be like this soon — if you want to survive.”
Jared groaned in pleasure as he shoved himself deep into the
hucow’s willing mouth.
I knew I shouldn't be watching something so sexual and animalistic,
but I couldn't help myself.
Seeing his long, thick manhood disappear between the woman’s
open lips — hearing the wet sounds and the slight gagging from the woman
and Jared’s grunts of pleasure — it was giving me those hot tingles again.
Suddenly, he pulled out from the woman’s mouth and pointed his
length right at my face. Something warm and wet flew out and hit my
cheek.
He grunted and laughed and stroked himself again, and another
warm wet load of his spunk hit my face, right below my eye.
I tried to turn away, but he held my head tightly, pushing his
dripping cock onto my lips and firing right at my mouth.
“Oh, yes, Daphne Alexander, I’m going to fuck your pussy and
you’re going to beg for more cock,” he groaned out as another load of
gooey sticky stuff landed on my face.
He stood up, tucking his manhood away again. “You look better like
that — all covered in cum. And you’d better get used to it,” he said.
He reached down and gave my breasts another squeeze.
“I’ll be back in a day or two for your first proper milking — and the
rest of it. I’m looking forward to it!” He grinned at me, as if he was excited
about something, and left the stall.
 I sat there, trying to wipe the stuff off my face with my big clumsy
hoof-like hands. I could taste him — a musky masculine taste that wasn't
unpleasant.
Why had I fought against having it in my mouth? It had looked
somehow arousing, seeing the woman next to me sucking on him, seeing
how deep it went into her throat. Would I be able to do that soon?
I sucked nervously on the feeding tube and immediately a warm,
soft glop poured into my mouth. It was savory and tasty and rich.
This was a far cry from sitting up at the table, where Mama still
insisted that we mind out manners and use the silver cutlery, even though
all we had was thin gruel or a crust of dry bread.
I sucked again, pulling in another mouthful. I really could eat as
much as I wanted?
For years now food had been in short supply. I could remember, way
back, when my family lived in the grand manor house in the countryside,
and there was always fine food, the tables groaning with it, a life of luxury.
I had a vivid memory of my Papa tossing his leftovers onto the floor
and laughing with glee as the servants scrabbled and fought each other for
every little scrap. I’d laughed too, thinking it was funny.
Now I understood that they had been starving — even as we gorged
ourselves in front of them.
But that all ended when the wild men came and claimed our land.
Since then my Papa had died in the war, and the rest of us had been
huddled in a small house inside the city walls, struggling to find enough to
eat, always sharing it out, always rationing it, no one ever having enough.
But now I could eat all day if I wanted to. I took another mouthful,
feeling my belly full and warm. A kind of peace descended on me, as I
sucked at the food.
Sometimes the glop changed. For a while, it was thin and watery,
quenching my thirst, then it went all sweet and sugary, reminding me of
apple pie and ice cream, then back to rich and savory. It was like meal after
meal, all soft and warm and lovely.
I ate and ate until I thought I might burst, and then I curled up in the
thick straw.
I knew I should be talking to the other women, the other cows, and
finding out how they coped with this, and what was going to happen next
and what I should do… But I just couldn't be bothered.
 I was warm and full and dozy and content just to lie there, sucking
on the feeding tube every now and then and drifting off to sleep.

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 Chapter 4
I awoke the next morning, still feeling dazed and happy.
Despite the shock of being in a straw-filled stall, with the smell of
the farm and other women and milk filling my nostrils, and the noises of
people and machinery and mooing all around me, I felt strangely at peace.
Then I tried to stand up.
My God. My body had changed overnight.
My 34D breasts had tripled in size, the skin full and stretched and
looking like two inflated beach balls dangling from my chest.
I touched them with my clumsy hoofs, struggling to comprehend
that these huge, ripe pillows were actually attached to me — a part of me.
They were firm and yet soft, like yielding pillows of flesh. I reached
around myself and tried to paw at my nipples.
With another shock I saw how big they had grown too.
Already standing out an inch, they seemed to tighten and harden
under my fumbling touches, getting even bigger.
They fizzed and tingled as I explored them, making me want to… I
didn't know what. But the urge to do something, to get some kind of release
was growing in me.
They were so heavy, so instead of standing up, I rolled over onto my
front and got onto all fours, letting my huge titties dangle in the straw.
“Moo,” said the woman next to me, looking at me with a vague
interest.
“Uh, hello?” I replied, not sure if I should moo too.
She stared for a moment and then said, “Hi.” She laughed and
mooed again. “I almost forget I can talk sometimes. All I ever do is moo.”
“How long have you been here?” I wondered out loud, determined
not to lose my own ability to speak, however long I was forced to stay here.
She sucked briefly on her feeding tube. “A couple of months.
Maybe longer. Time doesn't matter here.” She smiled at me, looking
completely content.
“You like it here?” I asked. The memory of what those men had
done to me yesterday — how they’d forced me to climax, the rush of
humiliation and the knowledge that worse, much worse was to come — it
all made me wonder if she had experienced the same and if so, how could
she seem so content?
She shrugged. “It’s warm. There’s plenty of food. Lots of sex.
Regular milking. Lovely.” She smiled again and sucked on her feeding
tube, her eyes glazing over.
I could tell that she’d lost interest in the conversation. Maybe she’d
even forgotten I was there.
I looked to the other side. Another woman kneeled there. She too
had a big belly — she was pregnant, maybe? And even bigger breasts. They
hung right down to the floor, their soft mass seemingly out of scale with her
body.
She turned to me, saying, “You won't get much out of Joanie. She’s
totally blissed out most of the time. But it’s not so bad here. Once you
accept it and stop fighting. If you struggle against it, it can be terrible. But if
you just give in and accept that you’re a cow, it’s okay. I’m Mabel, by the
way.”
“But… But... The men… What do they do to you?”
“Anything they damn well want.” She laughed, a deep throaty
sound. “But you know, honey, it can be very pleasurable too. A lot of them
just use you, but some really know how to treat you right.”
She stopped talking and gave a couple of low moos, her eyes darting
across the stall.
I followed her gaze and saw a group of the farmhands had come into
the stall, led by Jared.
The other two women returned to their feeding tubes, but I looked
over my shoulder, staring as they wheeled a couple of machines in.
Each machine was white, with tubes coming out of it, lots of dials
and a big stainless-steel container on the side. It looked complicated and
high-tech.
Pushing one between me and Joanie, the guys leaned down and
attached the ends of the tubes to her nipples.
I could see though the clear plastic ends of the tubes that her teats
were immediately pulled hard and distended.
Joanie began to moo — soft, low sounds of need and pleasure.
I watched in awe as the tubes gripped her titties, pulling hard on the
nipples, making them stretch and stretch longer and bigger and then —
splash! The milk started to pour out.
 Spurt after spurt, in a thick torrent, it filled the tubes, rushing down
into the stainless steel container.
Joanie kept sucking on her feeding tube, mooing in contentment.
But then I heard Mabel moaning. As I turned around, I saw that one
of the farmhands was actually doing it to her — his hips were thrusting and
he was clearly taking her from behind while she was being milked.
I tried not to stare, I really did, but the sight of her big breasts being
milked and the farmhand rudely pounding away at her from behind was
somehow exciting.
It made my own breasts swell and feel harder and gave me that hot
tingle between my legs.
Joanie moaned louder too now, and I saw the other farmhand was
reaching under her, between her legs. “That’s right, you dirty fat cow. Come
for me, Joanie, come hard,” he grunted.
Then Joanie was mooing really loudly and I knew she was
climaxing.
“Good girl,” he said, slapping her ass as he unhooked the tubes.
I turned back to Mabel. The farmhand was thrusting hard into her,
grunting. Was he coming inside her?
I shouldn't be watching. They shouldn't be doing it so openly, in
public. But the sounds and the smells made me want it too.
I turned back to Joanie but the man was gripping her face between
his palms and thrusting his length into her mouth now.
I turned away, shocked and embarrassed. This palace was a real den
of iniquity.
Men were just using the women — the cows — taking them
whichever way they wanted, without even asking. It was terrible,
outrageous, and yet. And yet I was jealous of them. I needed some attention
too.
As if he could read my mind, Jared grabbed the chain attached to
my collar and jerked it toward him. I stumbled around trying to face him.
“Daphne Alexander — halfway to being a cow,” he said.
He reached under me, grabbing at my breasts. He found the nipples
and began to squeeze them, pulling on them until I moaned in protest.
He grinned then. “You’re getting bigger, real fast too. You’ll be
ready for milking soon. And breeding. Don't worry — I’ll find you the
biggest bull there is and he’ll fill you so full of spunk you’ll be birthing
within a few weeks.”
I laughed at his ignorance. “It takes nine months,” I informed him.
“Not anymore, cow-girl. On your meds, it only takes a few weeks.
We’ll have you milking, knocked-up and calving within a month.”
The whole time he was expertly massaging my titties, his strong
hands rubbing down toward the nipples and then stimulating the tips.
I felt the urge to give, to let go, but nothing was happening.
“Are you getting horny, hucow?” he asked.
I couldn't admit that the way he was touching me was making me
tingle with need. I didn't answer.
“Let’s see if you are.” Without even asking, he reached between my
legs and found my pussy.
I was embarrassed to feel his fingers immediately sink into my slick
wetness.
Why was my pussy like this — always so warm and wet and needy?
Had it always been like this — or was it because of the meds and the
abundant food, and the strange new feeling of being available and open for
any man who wanted me?
I tried to remind myself how much I hated it — being naked, force-
fed, losing my old shape, growing these huge full breasts — and most of all
having an uncouth working man like Jared touch me in this intimate,
knowing way.
But even that couldn't stop me from giving a little whimper of
excitement as he fingered me.
“Yes, you're horny alright. You’re gagging for it. Maybe I’ll give
you a little taster — before I let Bill know that you’re ready for the Bull.”
I wanted to complain and to ask who the Bull was, and if he was as
big and terrifying as he sounded, and what he would do to me…
But Jared was rubbing the flat of two fingers across that hot little
nubbin of pleasure. I was losing all thought except the need for that to
continue.
“Do you like this, hucow?” he teased.
“Yes, yes,” I said out loud, before I bit the words back.
He laughed. “Oh yes, you’re horny as hell, aren’t you? I bet I can
make you come in thirty seconds if I keep doing this.”
 He stroked my clit hard and fast just like I needed him to, and I felt
it happening again — the hot, needy urge to push, to spurt, to release.
But he pulled his hand away and slapped my bare butt cheek before
I could get there.
“Oh! Don’t stop!” I said, knowing I needed him — a common
farmhand — to bring me pleasure.
What had happened to me?
If my Mama or sisters could see me now, they would be so ashamed
of me. Mama always told me, ‘You might be poor now, but you're still a
Lady, and you should always act like one. Don't be dragged down to the
level of ordinary people. You’re better than them.’
But here I was, naked, and begging a commoner to make me
orgasm. Oh, Mama would throw me out of the house and never let me
return.
I grinned at the thought. Good. Maybe I liked it here better, even if I
was forced to beg this stranger to make me come.
Jared smacked my butt again. “It’s time for milking. If we can get
these udders producing, then you’re definitely ready for the next stage.
Now, let’s see how a fine lady’s titties taste. Does your milk taste of wine or
honey? Or is it just good cream like everyone else’s?”
He pulled my shoulders up, forcing me to kneel up, with my huge
breasts rolling and flopping on my chest. It hurt my back. They were so big,
they were too heavy for me to sit up comfortably anymore.
Jared leaned me back against some hay bales, and I was grateful to
lie back, half propped up, my chest so huge it almost touched my chin, and
covered half my belly.
He sat next to me and massaged my left breast firmly, using that
same pulling motion, massaging down to the tip.
I groaned at the strange feeling it aroused in me — almost like when
he touched me down below.
“You like that, huh? How about you ask me to milk your big fat
titties in that hoity-toity voice of yours?”
He held my gaze, challenging me.
I couldn't say those shameful words. No Alexander had ever begged
anyone for anything. ‘I’d rather starve than beg,’ my Mama used to say, as
we passed the poor folk sitting on the sidewalk, asking for any spare
change. And nearly starve we did.
 Jared grinned at me and pulled my legs apart, reached between them
and sank his fingers inside me. “Come on, you posh, sexy little cow. Ask
me for what you want. Tell me how much you need milking, and frigging
off, and I’ll do it for you.”
I blushed red at his dirty words, wanting to snap my legs together
and roll away, but his fingers were pushing deep into me, rubbing me from
the inside and it felt almost as good as when he’d stroked my clit.
My breasts were ready to burst, and the thought of his hands — or
even more embarrassing — his mouth — clamping onto my nipple and
sucking was deeply alluring.
I moaned again, letting my legs spread wider.
His other hand toyed with my long nipple, pulling and squeezing it,
sending shivers right through me.
“So, what do you want, Miss Alexander? What do you want me to
do to you?”
“Anything,” I muttered, not able to look at him.
He laughed. “You’ll have to be more precise. Anything could mean
branding a hot iron into your fat ass, or getting the boys in for a gang-bang,
or whipping you until you stop being so damned awkward.”
There was a real threat in his words, and I knew immediately that he
was more than capable of doing any of these things.
I looked into his eyes. They were the color of dark chocolate with
golden flecks. He looked almost handsome, with his deep eyes and thick
dark hair almost to his shoulders.
Oh God. I tried to forget who I was, and what my Mama would say
if she saw me now — naked, my legs splayed like a common whore, about
to ask this man to do things to me.
“Please, Jared. I need it,” I whispered.
He smiled again. “Not good enough.” One hand slapped my breast
hard, making it jiggle as I cried out in shock and pain.
“I need it. I want you to do it.” I couldn't say ‘milk me’ or ‘suckle
me’ or ‘finger me.’ I just couldn’t. I was too ashamed of my own desires,
and too humiliated to ask him.
He shook his head at me, the corners of his mouth turning down.
Leaping to his feet, he strode out of the stall.
Was that it? Had he just left me, all pent up and excited and
unsatisfied? My breasts were full and even heavier, and my pussy was
throbbing with need.
I tried to rub myself with my hoof, but the padded mitts were too
soft.
I groaned in despair.

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 Chapter 5
He returned a few minutes later. Two of the other farm hands
followed him in, pushing the milking machine. Was it already time for the
other women to be milked again?
Jared approached me, holding two large bands in hands, stretching
them out between his fingers.
“It’s the punishment bands for you. You’re going to learn to say
please and thank you, and to admit you're just a hucow now. No more of
this fancy lady nonsense. I’ll slap it right out of you if I have to.”
“No. No. I wasn’t being condescending,” I stuttered out.
But they just laughed. One of them, a muscular handsome blonde
man, came closer and gave my butt a resounding slap. “Conde-what? Listen
to her fancy words. Soon she’ll do nothing but moo and beg for it, just like
the rest of them.”
He dragged my collar chain, forcing me to look up at him. “I
remember what your father did to my father — and to my mother. In fact, if
the rumors are true, I might even be related to you. Your father forced half
the women in this town to pay their rent with their bodies when they ran out
of cash. But now it's time for you to pay.”
My head was swimming and I couldn't absorb his words or
understand what he meant. But I could sense the anger in him and the desire
for revenge.
This isn't fair, I wanted to say. I’m not my father. I had no choice in
it, in any of it. But I was learning that keeping my mouth shut might be the
best thing to do.
And I was distracted by Jared. He was stretching out one of the
thick black, rubbery bands and forcing it over my breast. The other man
helped him, pulling the flesh of my titty through the band until it was snug
against my chest.
Then he did the same to the other. I looked down in dismay. The
bands were thick and tight, gripping the base of each breast, confining them
and squeezing them. Each titty stood out now, like a round ball on my chest.
I didn't understand why he’d done that. He slapped my breasts
laughing as they wobbled and jiggled.
 I noticed they felt tight and fuller already, and they were beginning
to go red. “Why have you put these on?” I had already broken my little
resolution to keep quiet.
“To get you to the point where you can't help but beg to have your
fat titties milked. And while we wait for that, we’re going to have a little
fun with you. What do you say, boys? Time to spit roast this fancy lady
until she realizes she’s just an animal, kept for our pleasure?”
The other two nodded eagerly.
Spit roast? I looked over to the other women, to see if they could
give me any clue. But Joanie was sucking on the feeding tube, her eyes
closed, and Mabel was sleeping.
The blonde man stood directly in front of me. I saw in shock that he
had opened his pants and was handling his cock, stroking it into stiffness.
He saw me looking at it. “You’re a dirty little bitch like all of the
rest of them — you want my cock, don't you?”
I certainly didn't, and I shook my head vehemently.
But he just laughed, pulling my shoulders up, and slapping my
breasts hard.
He used both hands, slapping each side, then underneath them, and
even across my poor swollen nipples, until I was gasping and moaning in
pain.
“No, no more, stop!”
“If you admit you want to suck my cock.”
“But I don't!”
“Then let's see how much abuse your titties can take.” He slapped
me with renewed vigor, my breasts jerking and bouncing all over the place.
Then he began to tease my nipples, pulling and twisting them.
It was awful, and yet I was getting a strange spaced out feeling of
dazed euphoria, and my breasts were throbbing with the tightness of the
bands, the intensity of his slaps and a powerful desire to release.
I gave a wordless moan as he tugged both of my nipples hard.
It hurt, and yet I needed it.
Part of me wanted him to do it harder, until something happened.
I was teetering on the edge of something, and I wasn't sure what it
was.
Behind me, I became aware of another sensation. Craning my head
around, I saw Jared, his thick length in his hand. “I’m gonna fuck you now,
little cow.”
“Oh, God, no,” I cried, more in shock than anything. Was this the
way that I was going to lose my virginity?
Once I’d imagined being in an elegant bridal bed, with silken sheets
and a gentle lover who had just become my husband. It would be sweet and
sensual and decorous.
But this? Roughly taken from behind, by a common farmhand,
while another man tormented my poor, bound breasts? This wasn't how it
was meant to be.
And yet, as Jared reached between my legs and plunged his fingers
into me again, I couldn't help moaning in pleasure.
Yes, yes, I needed this. Just don’t think, I told myself. Just lose
yourself in sensation.
At my head, the muscular blonde man had left my swollen breasts
alone for a moment. But there was no respite. Instead, he was rubbing his
sticky manhood across my face and toward my lips.
“Tell me you want it. Say it. Say you want to suck my cock and you
want him to fuck your pussy.”
Jared laughed. “Yes, say, I’m fancy Daphne Alexander and I want
spit-roasting.” He put on a high-pitched voice as he imitated me, trying to
capture my accent. It wasn't my fault that I spoke correctly while they had
strong country voices.
I clamped my mouth closed. If only they would shut up and just do
it, maybe I could switch off my mind and take it. But making me look at
him — making me ask for it… It all just reminded me who I was and what I
was doing.
“We could put the milking machine on her — while her titties are
bound,” the blonde one suggested.
“No. That would be too cruel. Give her one more chance.”
I could tell Jared wanted me to give in — and I wanted it too. But I
could never say those shameful words.
The cock rubbed over my lips again. “Beg me for my cock. Say, I’m
a fancy lady and I want to suck your cock.”
I shook my head stubbornly.
He sighed in irritation. “You’re gonna regret that,” he muttered as he
pulled the milking machine closer.
 It can't be too bad, I comforted myself. The other women seemed to
actually enjoy it. But I had forgotten those tight bands on my breasts, and I
didn't understand how that would change everything.
“Get her hooked up,” Jared said, switching the machine on.
It began to hum, and the blonde man pulled out one of the tubes
with its wide funnel top, and settled it onto my breast.
I gasped at the immediate powerful suction. It gripped onto me,
pulling my nipple hard, sucking it into the funnel.
“Oh, God, no,” I moaned, as he attached the other one too.
Both titties were sucked hard, both nipples stretching and swelling,
pulled down and down. They must be three inches long, I thought in
dismay.
For a second or two the suction relaxed slightly and my nipples
reverted to almost their previous size. But then it came again, pulling hard,
relentlessly sucking at my teats.
I wanted something to happen. I could feel the heat and the fullness
in my breasts, and the urge to release was overwhelming, but nothing came
out.
Jared was watching carefully. He worked a finger under the tight
band binding my breast. “With these on, you can't give your milk. It’s
gonna hurt more and more until you give in, and beg us for cock.”
I stared up at him with wide eyes. It hurt already, the insistent
pulling suction, the tension and tightness in my swollen titties, the need to
give.
“Just say it. Just admit you’re no better than us. Just tell us you want
to be milked and fucked.”
Jared’s voice was soothing and reassuring. He made it seem so
simple.
I opened my mouth. “Please,” I said.
He grinned. “You’re getting there. Please is a good start. Now say it,
the rest of it.”
Could I hold out any longer? I needed relief — from the pain, from
the fullness, from the throbbing arousal between my legs.
I wanted him and even that unpleasant other man to have their way
with me. I wanted to be taken and filled and milked and sucked dry. I really
did.
 I groaned again as the blonde one flicked a switch on the milking
machine and the intensity of the suction pumps increased.
“Please, I want you to do it to me.” That was the best I could
manage.
“You want your big titties milked? You want your juicy pussy
fucked? The fine, fancy lady is begging us to do her?” Jared wasn't letting
me off lightly.
I nodded. I had to say it. I closed my eyes tightly as I spoke the
shocking words. “Please, Jared. Do it to me. Fuck me. Milk me. Make me
come. All of it.”
He grinned. Immediately he pulled out a little pocketknife and
pulled out the band from my chest and sliced it through. The relief was
immense.
On the next suction, I felt it — a hot flowing through my breast,
making me tingle all the way down to my nipple, and then the squirting
trickle of milk.
“Oh, yes, yes,” I moaned.
Jared cut the other band and then both my breasts were giving milk.
I knelt there, letting the machine do its work, each hard pull now
sucking out milk, filling me with a pleasurable relief stronger than anything
I'd ever felt before.
Jared moved out my vision, and I felt him behind me. He was going
to do it when I was being milked?
I didn't really care. I was so happy at the feeling of the creamy
goodness spilling from me, that he could do whatever he liked.
But then I felt his thick length pushing against my wet folds. Oh,
God. This was it. My precious virginity lost forever.
He gripped my hips tightly and pushed hard into me. A groan of
shock escaped my lips as I felt him inside me — so big, so thrusting, so
powerful.
His fingers were on my clit too, rubbing it, and I knew I loved this
— him fucking me, filling me, the machine milking my tender swollen
breasts, my clit stroked and rubbed.
The blonde man held his cock to my lips, and this time I opened my
mouth.
He grinned. “Say you want to suck my cock.”
 I couldn't help myself. I repeated his words. “I want to suck your
cock.” The dirty words sounded so wrong, and yet, I couldn't deny my urge
to be fully used by these men.
He laughed and rubbed it on my lips and then pushed it inside.
Using the chain attached to my collar, he pulled my head further and
further forward, until I thought I would choke, and then released me for a
second.
He gripped my head tightly between his hands.
“I’m face-fucking Daphne Alexander,” he said to himself. “And
she’s begged me to do it.”
He jabbed his cock in deeply, filling my mouth, in and out, as if he
couldn't get enough of it.
I could hear his and Jared’s grunts of pleasure, and the sound of my
milk trickling through the tubes into the collection chamber, and another
noise — an animal panting, an eager whining sound, muffled but definitely
there.
Then I realized that it was me. I was moaning in pleasure as Jared
pumped his cock into me, and the blonde man ravaged my mouth, and the
suction cups pulled hard on my titties and expert fingers rubbed my clit
hard.
The man in my mouth began to spurt, almost choking me with thick
sticky liquid. He was coming in my mouth. He didn't pull out, but just kept
forcing his cock deeper, making me swallow his cum as he thrust himself
into my throat.
Then he pulled out and wiped himself on my face.
I didn't care. All I could think about was the way Jared was fucking
me so hard and fast and how he was rubbing my slippery nubbin, and how
my breasts were still pouring out milk.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I whimpered.
“She fucking loves it,” the blonde man said.
“Yes, oh, yes!” I cried, utterly beside myself, as waves of pleasure
filled me. I was shaking now, as bliss coursed through me, the orgasm so
powerful I could hardly breathe.
“She’s squirting! Look at her! It’s pouring out!”
I could feel it, the hot wetness sporting from between my legs.
Every wave of pleasure made me gush harder, and the relief was incredible.
 Jared kept fucking me, hard, feeling my pussy clench tight on him
as I shuddered and moaned in delight.
Then he was coming too — his hot seed pouring into me, flooding
my wet tunnel, as he forced the last hard waves of pleasure from my
swollen clit.
My head fell forward into the straw, and I was weak and limp now.
The milking machine kept working, relentless in its suction, drawing
more and more milk from me. I watched it trickling down through the
tubes, my nipples puffy, squirting out each time.
Jared pulled out of me.
“That was a good one. I reckon you might be pregnant. But we’ll get
the Bull in soon, just to make sure.”
I managed to look away from the hypnotic squirting of the milk to
see him standing over me.
He leaned down and switched off the machine.
I still had more to give. My breasts felt so good now, almost empty,
soft and pillowy, and I was so nearly perfectly satisfied.
“I’ve got more milk,” I said through numb lips.
“I know. And I think I deserve some, after the fucking I gave you.”
I allowed him to push me over onto my back, and watched in
pleasure as he lay down next to me, holding me with those big, strong arms.
“You start milking the others. I’ll be here for a while,” he said to the
blonde man.
The other man had already hooked Joanie up to the machine again,
and was rubbing his cock against her butt, as if he was going to fuck her
next.
Jared settled in next to me. “So, Daphne, my hucow, do you want
me to suck out the rest of your milk?”
I felt utterly relaxed, lying there, knowing the men had used my
body, but made me come so hard too.
They were punishing me for something I hadn't done and couldn't
help, but a part of me enjoyed that too — the suffering, the desperation, the
complete dependence on them, and knowing that somehow, I was atoning
for my family’s wrongdoing.
“Yes, Jared. Suck my breasts. Suckle my milk,” I said softly. Then I
added, “Please.”
 He smiled at me, and for a moment I found myself thinking how
handsome he was, in a dark, rough and ready kind of way.
I tried to halt the thought. I wasn't falling for him. I wasn’t. Even
though he’d been my first, and had perhaps got me pregnant.
He pressed himself against me, holding my breast, kneading it in his
hands, before feeding the nipple into his mouth. He sucked it deep, pressing
it with his tongue.
I sighed in pleasure.
He began to suck rhythmically on my nipple, one hand massaging
my breast, the other sliding down between my legs.
I almost snapped my knees shut. I was too tender down there. But as
he suckled me, I began to tingle again, and welcomed his gentle fingers
softly stroking my clit.
I lay back, with my hoofed hands on his shoulder, his mouth sucking
on my teat as he slowly fingered me to another soft, gentle climax.
I was a cow now.
I didn't know what was going to happen to me next, or who the Bull
was or what he would do to me, or if I was already pregnant, but in that
moment, sighing in pleasure as Jared urged me towards another sweet,
shuddering orgasm as he suckled the last of my milk from my breasts, I was
truly content.

The End

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 Lola Little
Daphne might be happy now, but there’s a lot more trouble in store
for her at the farm, with more punishments, more suffering and more
climaxes as she’s intensely milked and used by the men on the farm, bred
by the massive Bull and strapped to the dreaded ‘breeding machine.’

Read the rest of the series and find all of Lola Little’s other Hucow
books, all available here.

Try the Hucow Dairy Farm Erotica series featuring an innocent turned
into a Hucow Slave:

Book 1 Hucow Farm Service: When she turns eighteen, innocent teen
Marissa is sent to serve as a hucow on a factory farm. She’ll be
transformed and attached to a milking machine that will milk her creamy
goodness day and night. She knows what the men who work on the farm
do to their helpless hucows. No one would choose to be a hucow. But
Marissa has a secret — she did choose it — she volunteered to be a hucow
— to fulfill her secret desire for her titties to become huge and plump and
bursting, and for her young body to be available to any man who wants to
fuck her. But with whippings, punishments and breast bondage, can
Marissa take the intense hucow transformation and the dehumanizing
treatment, as she begins to produce for the very first time?

Book 2 Hucow Farm Fertile: Marissa willingly volunteered to become a

creamy hucow, but can the eighteen-year-old really cope with life on the
farm? She’s chained in her stall with her newly huge, productive udders
leaking and dripping and her body available to be used by any man who
wants her. It’s not just the intense feeding and milking regime she has to
deal with, but the Captain can’t leave her alone, the Major continues to
experiment on her, a cruel bully arrives to torment her, and it's time for her
to be seeded by a gang of big, fertile men… With forced breeding,
punishment sex, gang-bangs and breast bondage, Marissa endures all
kinds of milky pleasures.

Book 3 Hucow Farm Birth: Marissa the willing hucow is even bigger
than before — chained in her stall on the dairy farm with a big, ripe belly
as well as her massive udders, she’s freely used by all the men of the
farm. She shouldn't enjoy it all so much, but she just can't help herself.
When the Captain puts her huge breasts in bondage so she can’t release
her creamy goodness and whips her in strict obedience training, she begs to
have her dripping milk-bags freed so she can reach satisfaction again.
Soon she finds all the stimulation has put her into labor, and with five
horny men 'helping out,' and using her helpless body for their own
pleasure while she is in labor, it’s an experience she will never forget.

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