Creating the Family HuCow Dairy Farm
Kristen, searching for some inspiration, heads out of town to the nearest dairy farm. She bikes and thinks as she drifts through the landscape, focused only on the all-consuming passion. The obsession to pen more stories.
She arrives at Smith Family Farms and stares out at the cows. Those are boring to her. She does spot some beautiful women moving around. A redhead that looks stunning with two younger women, maybe her daughters, moving about.
Kristen shivers in delight. She has this idea that the Smith Family Farm starts offering a new product. Something never before seen. Kristen memorizes the look of the women. She has no idea what their names are, but she's certain it will come to her.
She heads back home, thinking about the story she'll right. She's so excited for it. She gets home and sits down at her desk. She opens her diary to the middle. It always opened to the middle. She starts writing her story, the names popping into her head.
* * *
Rex Smith
I moved through the stalls. The cows mooed as the milkers were doing their thing. I watched the pipes, everything seemed to be in order. I marched down them nodding in satisfaction. My wife was at the far end, monitoring the levels.
"How's it looking?" I asked.
"We're up a tad," Dottie said and smiled at me. She had red hair and looked great in the tight jeans she wore with a Western shirt. "They're producing today."
"Good, good," I said.
My eldest daughter, Loretta, stepped inside. She wore jeans, too, and an old T-shirt. She had a freckled face and her mother's red hair. She stretched her arms over her head as she marched toward me in her boots. They were muddy. Her T-shirt pulled tight over her modest breasts.
"The hole in the fence is being fixed by the hands, Pa," said Loretta. "And Mary Jo's not watching the cheese press."
I sighed and glanced at my wife. "Where'd your daughter run off to, woman?"
Dottie gave me a hard look, her arms folded beneath her breasts. She never had the biggest ones. Just nice and round. "She's your daughter, too. So don't blame me when she runs off. She gets that tomboy streak from you."
"I'll go take a look at the press," I said, shaking my head. "Help your mother."
"Yes, Pa," said Loretta, smiling at me. At least I had one reliable daughter to leave the dairy farm to. My great-grandfather founded the place. I didn't want it to fall out of the family especially since we'd been doing amazing the last decade.
I headed off, shaking my head. Mary Jo... That girl... Too big to tan her backside.
* * *
Rex, the owner of Smith Family Farms, is thinking of a new plan to save the family farm.
Production of cow milk is down again. If he doesn't do something, creditors will take the farm. It's then that he has a new idea for a new product. He can't believe it. The idea is radical. Would it work? He starts to think about it, his cock getting hard.
You see, working around the dairy cows has caused his wife and two daughters to spontaneously start lactating. A sympathetic reaction to the cows. They produce so much milk that they have to use milk pumps a few times a day. They just toss it down the drain, but what if he could sell it?
What if he could turn his wife and daughters into human milk cows?
HuCows.
* * *
Rex Smith
With production up, it was time to expand the milking barn. I would need Mary Jo...
I took a step and froze, inspiration hitting me. Of course, that was how I could save the farm. We were doing so badly, that I wasn't sure how to keep the bank away. I wanted to expand for years, but now it was all I could do to keep us in the black.
Barely.
Now...
I smiled as I had the plan. It would require some tinkering with things. As soon as the cows were done milking, I would go to work modifying a few stations. I hummed at the thought, planning it out. I would need to modify the cups. They had to fit human breasts, not cow udders.
I could fashion those easily enough. Lactating had increased the size of their breasts. They were all I-cups, even Mary Jo. On her petite form, they made her seem top-heavy. So I just had to make cups to fit them.
I headed into the workshop and started it. Loretta peeked in, asking, "What you doin', Pa?"
"Just an idea," I said. "Might give us some more money."
"Great," she said. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Nope," I said. "Just tell your mother I might need her for a test run." I held up the plastic and eyed my daughter's huge breasts. Her t-shirt was stretched over those large tits, leaving her bellybutton bare. She wore short-shorts that left her legs bare and hugged her ass.
She was such a cock-tease. I know a father wasn't supposed to look at his daughter, but... Damn, she was stacked and hot.
"Well, that seems like... something," she said. "Like a boob cup. You doin' something kinky, Pa?"
I just winked at my eldest and kept working.
Then I headed into the milking barn and swapped out the cups on one of the milkers. I had made enough for all of them, but I was just testing it out. My wife, Dottie, entered the barn, her western-style shirt tied beneath her two bouncing titties that left her midriff bare. I knew my farmhands were always staring at Dottie. She wore a jean miniskirt that left her gorgeous legs bare.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm gonna milk you," I said and held up the two cups.
"Oh, you are, are you?" she asked. She arched an eyebrow at me.
"We are dumping a valuable resource down the drain," I said. "You and the girls got that breast milk. We could be sellin' it at a premium. HuCow milk could be the next big thing."
I grinned at my wife, arching my eyebrow at her. She shivered and bit her lower lip, her eyes narrowing. She wasn't happy.
* * *
Dottie Smith
"That is the most disgusting thing in the world," I huffed. "Milk your wife and daughter like we're cows. HuCows? What does that mean? Human Cows?"
My husband winced. "We need to do something to save the--"
"No!" I stamped my foot. "I will not do it!"
* * *
Mrs. Dottie Smith is onboard with the plan.
* * *
Dottie Smith
"I will absolutely do it," I said, my tits jiggling from my emphatic foot stomp. I untied the knot of my shirt, tugging on it. I never wore bras any longer. I just had to milk my tits all the time. "Hook me up, Rex! Milk your wife!"
He grinned at me at the sight of my big, heavy tits. They had gone from C's to I's nearly overnight. Becoming a HuCow had just changed them. I loved it, though. I was so happy to have these big, soft titties. Milking them was such a drag.
It did feel good to use a milk pump on my nipples, but it also wasn't a good thing. I shouldn't have to be milked. I knew that. I was just so glad to have my husband's support. He clearly was eager to milk me. He wanted to just hook me up to the pumps.
How naughty of him.
He held the cups out and slipped them onto my tits. It was nice having those around me. He then turned on the switch. This was an industrial milker. It had far more suction than the little breast pumps they sold for women.
"Fuck!" I gasped. "Oh, jeepers, that's good. That's so fuckin' good." I glanced at my husband. "Yes!"
The milk was flowing out. It made me shiver as the creamy delight squirted from my aching nipples. My eyes rolled back in my head as the machine was working hard. I watched my husband grinning at me.
God, it would be hot if he fucked me. Just rammed his big dick into me right now.
I shuddered at that thought as we kept milking me. My husband was watching the station. He had it routed to a testing tank. It was filling up with milk. He turned off the machine. I gasped as the suction ended.
I wanted it back.
He grabbed a cup and twisted the valve. Milk poured out, white and creamy. He tasted it and frowned. He handed it to me. I tasted my own breast milk. It was sweet and had this melony aftertaste, but... It was lacking something.
"This milk just isn't good enough," he said. "Maybe we have to adjust your diet."
"Maybe," I said, racking my brain for ideas. "It might be stress. You know, the foreclosures."
"What can we do about that?" Rex muttered. I felt so bad for him. This was his family farm. Mine, too. I had put my life into it. I was glad to be his partner.
* * *
Dottie suggests Bubba the ranch hand fuck her as she's being milked. That would make it taste better. Plus, she's secretly always wanted his big, Black cock to fuck her.
* * *
Dottie Smith
My pussy melted as I knew the best way to be relaxed. Bubba. The Black farmhand. I had lusted after him for months, controlling myself. I wasn't going to cheat on my husband, but if there was anything that would melt away my stress.
"I got an idea," I said, "but you're not gonna like it."
My husband frowned. "What?"
"I need Bubba to fuck me while I'm being milked," I said. "It'll relax me."
My husband blinked. "If you need a fuckin', I can do it."
"You won't relax me. I need something new. Something I've never experienced. A different man. Yes, yes, I'm a HuCow. I need to be stimulated. That's what I need. Bubba can do it. It'll make the milk taste amazing."
