Author's note:
10 chapters published, 10 more until the end. Gumdrop's story has reached its turning point, in more ways than one... Also, a new kind of pet is going to appear soon, so stay tuned!
As absurd as the concept of a hucow is, I tried to take it quite seriously, to delve in the psychology of a hucow and her owner, in search of what this admittedly strange fetish means, at least to me. Therefore, beside the tropes of the genre (kinky sex, humiliation and de-humanization), you will find the musings of a young girl who chooses to become a cow in a quest for true love and a place in the world. I hope that the result is an original and refreshing take on the matter.
All kinds of feedback are appreciated, especially those about grammar, as English is not my first language.
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11. Not as cool as it used to be
If we had known what Penelope had in store for Cream Pie, we probably would have gone down on her more than once. When the crop woke us up the next day, after our second nap, I already knew who was holding it. Standing at our hind-hooves, Penelope was looking at her cows with a bright smile. The barn was otherwise devoid of people.
"Come on girls, time to produce me some milk!"
Apart from the strength of the whipping, all proceeded as normal. We were milked, put to work on the yokemill, milked again and fed a double ration of semen. Before we could go grazing or be mounted either by the stable boys or some early client, Penelope stopped the newbie and knelt in front of her.
"I realized that I had made a terrible mistake, Cream Pie. I know that you are not ready yet to be mounted, but I never put some protection on your pussy to ensure that it would be that way." she said, looking at her encouragingly "We are going to remove it as soon as you feel you can do it, alright darling?"
She did not wait for an answer and fastened something to her golden pussy rings. I imagined that it was one of the rubber protections we rarely used when Aidan did not trust a guest to use a condom when cumming in our vaginas. My guess was a near miss and somehow still a huge one. It was a protection all right, as we discovered once outside, but it was made of rigid metal and was covered in tiny and sharp metal spikes. A couple of soft plastic wings protected her inner thighs from being scratched. It was a simple, but effective, chastity belt. Cream Pie had to ask for it to be removed in order to pee, forcing her to do it in front of people all the time, contrarily to what she had done the previous day, when she would sneak outside to relieve herself in privacy. That was not the worst part, though. We all knew that she was going to go crazy without climaxing for a whole day. No matter how much we tried, it was impossible to perform any kind of stimulation that did not result at best in a cruel tease. Penelope had just found a very fast and sly way to complete Cream Pie training.
She won over her embarrassment of doing her business in public quite fast, hopefully spurred by me and Cupcake doing it in the most undignified way in front of her, like when we walked. We had hoped to make her understand she had nothing to be ashamed of. We were all very proud of her, when she found her confidence.
Her battle against her libido lasted very little too, but this time she lost, after only two days. After that, for a couple of weeks, Penelope transitioned her to have two clients per day, while still keeping her pussy locked the rest of the time. She even had the stable hands milk her more slowly and with pauses, to avoid her to cum through the pumping. In a month, she was being pimped out regularly as much as us. I had to admit that this technique worked wonders. Since her clients were her only way to alleviate her frustration, Cream Pie had the best possible experiences with her firsts, because she actively sought sex with them. This allowed a girl who had never thought about prostituting herself until very recently, to ease in the life as smoothly as possible. Now, like us, she was usually enjoying or, at the very least, tolerating, that aspect of being a hucow and her clients must have enjoyed her a lot too, because they usually kept her busy the longest.
"Penelope has a real talent for rearing hucows." Aidan confessed to me one day, after these events, "She saw immediately through Reagan: she patiently cast a lure with the photo-op, to make her familiar with hucows and yet convincing her that modeling did not provide easy money like she had hoped and then she set up a trap, hiring her for the lap dance of the inauguration, making her venture in sex-work and swim in the left-over cash involved in the business. After that, all she had to do was wait and the girl came to her asking for this job. It's genius!"
I mooed aghast. So his wife really had manipulated my friend!
"I know how it looks, but consider the alternative. Reagan was not going to pay her debts with a modeling job, not as a beginner. She would end up dead, or worst, by the hands of her dealer, either through drugs or by brute force." he defended himself "On the other hand, look at her. She's fine, she's been clean longer than ever, she's getting genuinely rich and she seems happy."
Cream Pie was now wrestling with Cupcake after she had played a prank on her that involved patiently putting a bunch of straws through the blond cow's hair with her mouth during her nap. They were both moo-giggling. I was not sure I agreed with him, but I knew for certain that Aidan had the best intentions. He would never had let me become a hucow, had he not firmly believed that it would be a good thing for me.
The fact was, however, that Penelope was weird with her and increasingly so with time. At the beginning, she had started to make Cream Pie eat her pussy, like she required from us from time to time. One day, however, a few days after my conversation with Aidan, Cream Pie came back from the breeding room without her cream blue-ribboned tail and told us, in our cow language that she now mastered, that she had had the weirdest experience with Penelope.
The woman had used a strap-on to fuck her in the ass. I was bewildered, but Cupcake did not seem to find it strange at all. We looked at her and I guess she felt cornered, because she gazed back at us, a little shyly, in a way that said, in the most casual tone, "what, you have never been fucked with a strap-on"? While she was playing with her dreads in the cute way that I had learned to associate with embarrassment, I asked Cream Pie for further details, but the effort I made to understand her miming proved pointless, as the very next day I would see with my own eyes.