Laughing Cow Farms

When I woke up, it took a good minute to understand my surroundings. This place wasn't familiar. It was like the inside of a shed, maybe a barn? The air was comfortably cool against my skin- that thought alarmed me too. My whole body was bare. I was kneeling on hay, with my arms and head slotted into some kind of stocks-like device. My legs were fastened to what felt like metal poles with leather straps around my thighs, knees, and ankles. I was held tight, my struggling only making my heavy 34D breasts sway under me.

"Hello?" I called, my voice echoing in the wooden structure. "Let me the fuck out of here!"

My yells were met with silence though. I don't know how much time passed sitting in the big barn alone. Occasionally I thought I'd hear something outside, voices maybe, a droning noise. Screams? What the fuck was happening?

The last thing I remembered before waking up in this god forsaken place was a job interview. The newspaper clipping had listed it as "Be The New Face Of Happy Farms". I'd figured it was a modeling job, but the interview had been odd. They'd asked about family (I had none). Friends (they'd all moved out of state). Diet (nothing too abnormal). Had I ever been pregnant? (No.) The answer to that seemed to disappoint them but they'd moved on pretty quickly. I had been promised a call back, and while I was leaving the office building, a black car pulled up and....

Now I was here.

I've read enough true crime novelas to know the events were likely connected, but to what end I couldn't know. Surely they'd have killed me by now if that was the intent? As if to answer my racing thoughts, the barn door finally creaked open, revealing a burly farmer.

He whistled casually, as if he didn't have a woman naked and tied up in some kind of contraption in his barn. He simply wheeled over some large machines, barely casting me a glance. I went ballistic.

"What the fuck are you doing?? Who are you? Let me go- this is disgusting!" I rattled off every little thought that came to mind, every mean thing I could think to say, every threat of prison time to dick ripping I could think. Nothing fazed him. He just chuckled and went about setting up his equipment, still whistling.

I thought I could hear the outside sounds more clearly now. There was a steady whir, and a murmuring sound that would change in pitch occasionally. I was trying to decipher the noise when suddenly I felt his big calloused hand playfully slap my bare ass. I yelped.

"Welcome to the farm, darling." He said, rubbing the spot he'd slapped warmly. "I'm happy to tell you you got the job!"

"What?" I asked, trying to glare at him from where my head was locked in position. I tried to wiggle my hips to get his hand off my ass, but they too were stuck tight, and he just kept on rubbing.

"'The new face of happy farms.'" he explained, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Face are what we call our cattle here. Some of our livestock needed switchin' out. Your file shows you'll need a bit o' trainin', but by the end of your three month inaugural period I'm sure you'll be a perfect little dairy cow."

My mind blanked. What the fuck did any of that even mean? She was a human being, not a dairy cow.

"This is sick! Just you wait, someone will find me! And when they do, you'll go to jail for- forever!" I threatened. The farmer just laughed, going back to setting up one of his machines just out of her sight.

"Your file made it pretty clear Miss Thing. No family, no friends. And even then. You signed the paperwork already, a three year contract." He grinned when he saw my jaw drop. "You really should read those pesky contracts before you sign them."

This was unbelievable. What the fuck had that job interview been? No, there had to be some mistake, this couldn't be real. I opened my mouth to object, but suddenly he clasped his big palm over my mouth. A felt something get forced into my jaw, and his other hand buckled it around my head. It was a gag, but it almost seemed like a mask, covering over my nose as well. I panicked for a second, worried that it would cut off my air- but then he flicked a button on a giant tank and suddenly cool air filled the mask.

"Pure oxygen." He told her. "You'll need it in a little bit. Now, lets get the rest of your gear ready.."

I objected as much as I could through the gag. Something in the mask kept my mouth forced open, but the thick insulated material kept little noise from escaping. He moved around me and I could only imagine for what purposes. Suddenly I felt his hands on my tits. They had something cold and oily on them and I yelped through the gag, shaking to try and wrestle him off. His grip was firm though as he rubbed and massaged by breasts, pinching my nipples until they were hard points. I whined at the feeling, hating the electric shot of pleasure it sent to my clit.

This was sick. His motions seemed so practiced, I was helpless! I had to keep telling myself that to ignore the growing wetness between my thighs as he kept massaging my heaving tits, rolling the weight of them in his hands, molding them like clay. Suddenly, his hands were gone. There was another click of a machine being switches on, a louder whir and then-

I nearly screamed. It felt like a vacuum closed on my left nipple. I arched my back as the suction drew my little nub in. The suction relaxed a little, not enough to release my tit, but enough to allow me to relax. Then it sucked it again. Rhythmically. Over and over. And then a second suction claimed my right tit.

The result was electric. I bucked a bit, shaking my tits in a futile attempt to free them from this... this milking machine, but they held tight. The farmer leaned back to admire his work, watching me writhe and listening to my moaning cries. I could feel more wetness forming between my legs and I strained against the leather straps to try and hide it.

Suddenly, the farmers hand pet my hair.

"Enjoying yourself, girlie?" He said with a teasing smirk. I glared up at him, hoping he wouldn't notice the flush on my face.

"Uck Ou!" I tried to growl through the gag. The farmer just tutted and shook his head in mock disappointment at my objection.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head. We'll get you smilin' soon."

With that cryptic warning, a heavy leather blindfold was fastened over my eyes. I bucked and shook my head, trying desperately to shake him off, but he held firmly to my hair and soon my vision was locked squarely away. I heard his heavy footsteps crunch the hay behind me, and heard him fiddle with more machinery.

A new device was slowly pressed against my unfortunately wet folds, making me yelp as it nestled between my pussy lips. I heard a locking noise as he, presumably, secured the new device in place. This one felt familiar, a shape I'd felt before.

"We'll warm ya up nice and slow." The farmer told her, and tapping the device, I realized with horror why I recognized it.

A Hitachi vibrator.

I had bought one from Amazon once, but determined it was too strong for my overly sensitive pussy and hadn't touched it since. But now those same strong vibrations were nestled tight against my cunt, vibrating against my clit. I screamed into the gag and tried to lurch forward, away from the steady hum of the vibe. The milkers on my tits rattled at the movement, but I was stuck. Stimulated on all three of my sensitive little nubs. I heard the farmer laugh as I whined and rocked against the sensations.

"Oh come on sweetheart, thats the lowest setting." He cooed, petting my hair again. I ignored him and continued to buck my hips, trying desperately to escape the building heat in my stomach.

The machines attached to me drowned out most of the sounds I could hear, but I thought I heard him walking around... opening cupboards, pulling things out, mumbling to himself.... I cursed the blindfold, not being able to see kept me in suspense, unsure what sadistic turn this sicko would take next.

I never expected to feel his finger nail drag up my bare foot.

I shrieked, louder than when the vibrations began to shake my clit. I was extremely ticklish. I had forgotten about it- no one had tried tickling me since college. I'd had a boyfriend who had tried to be playful by pinching my sides and I'd punched him. We broke up days later. Tickling was never something I had thought of, other than an unpleasant sensation I wasn't fond of. But after you reach a certain age, it stops being a threat. That is, until you are trapped and bound in some weird ass barn with a farmer who seems to have a knack of defying expectations.

He started with his fingers. His nails were just long enough to leave light scratches in the soft flesh of my soles. I tried to curl my toes to stop him, but the position I was tied left little for me to do to get away. I rocked in my binds, shaking my head incessantly as I screamed and laughed into the mask gag.

"You know, we used to be called 'laughing cow' farms." The farmer said as he continued to torture my poor, sensitive feet. "But there was some lawsuit with a different company. We settled and rebranded. But we still like to keep our cows laughing. It makes the milk sweeter." He used one big hand to hold down my toes as he tapped his fingers on the toe-stems. I bucked and laughed, my pussy grinding against the vibrator but barely noticing it now. As if to punish me for the lack of sensation, he flicked the vibe up one notch higher.

"Ngooooooooo!" I sobbed, shaking my head. My feet, my tits, and my pussy were all overwhelmed with intense feelings. I could barely control myself as I tried to escape from each sensation. But the milking machine held fast to my tits, the vibrator didn't leave my clit no matter how much I jerked, and the farmer happily followed wherever my feet managed to go, finding and attacking every inch of ticklish skin.

His hands moved up my legs in a massaging motion, my feet felt hot from the torture. I whimpered and sobbed. The massage felt... good. Too good. The warmth was rising in my stomach again. The vibe buzzed inside my pussy. My whole clit felt like an extension of the wand, buzzing with it all the way down to the root. His hands kept moving over my skin. My thighs, my ass, my ribs, my shoulders. My guard lowered, just a bit, and that's when he struck next. His fingers dipped under my arms to attack the hollows of my arm pits, and I sobbed all over again.

"NGONGOOOAHHHAHHAHHAAAA"

My breathing was just gasping, and suddenly it hit me what the oxygen was for. I wouldn't run out of air during this. He could tickle torture me as long as he wanted, and I wouldn't pass out. The realization made me tremble and shake my head again. His fingers spidered from my pits to my ribs, from my ribs to my sides. I was crying freely now, but you'd never guess through the laughter.

"EAZZZ AH CAHHAHAHANTTT!" I tried to beg, but I just heard the farmer laugh a bit. I would find no mercy here.

Every time he changed tools, he would turn the vibrator up a notch. The way my body jerked and writhed as he alternated a feather and pinwheel under my arms made me practically fuck the round bulb of the Hitachi. But as close as it came, the torture of the tickling kept me from cumming.

All the while the milking machine sucked my tit. Over and over, nonstop. I tried to shake them off, my nipples growing engorged and sensitive under the constant attack. My clit, too, felt swollen under the vibrating barrage, and sometimes the farmer would dip his long soft feather or brush or whatever tool he was using to swipe over it, ripping a sound from my throat I didn't know was possible. My whole body felt stimulated, a constant buzz of sensation. Torturous pleasure, forced laughter. As horrible as it was, at the very least, I was growing accustomed to it.

"You know something interestin' about tickling?" The farmer said as he twirled what felt like a real hair paint brush around my navel, watching my body jerk around to try avoiding it. I could barely comprehend his words, but he continued anyway. "It gets so much more intense after you cum."

The vibrator was suddenly turned on full speed. For a moment everything stopped. My vision, black under the tight leather blindfold, turned bright white. My whole body tensed.

I came.

Once, twice, four times in rapid succession, the vibe still drilling away in my pussy. My scream was cut off from how battered my throat had become, but my body still jerked unbidden against the sensations that still tore through my pussy. The whirring of the hitachi sounded wetter as my thighs were flooded with fresh pussy juice that just kept coming. It felt like hours before he finally turned the knob down to the lowest speed, and adjusted it so the now soaking wet bulb of the wand was just ghosting the red rawness of my overstimulated pussy. I sagged in the bonds, breathing hard. I felt exhausted and spent.

I heard another machine turn off, and the suction on my abused nipples finally stopped, the machines falling to the hay covered floor with a soft thud. I whimpered helplessly as the farmer massaged my tits, no strength to move away as he palmed my sensitive engorged nipples.

"You're not lactating yet." The farmer announced. "But you will, once we're done with you. For now we'll let these puppies breathe."

He got up again and I was left shivering and sobbing in my binds. I heard him shuffling behind me somewhere, but I couldn't focus. The vibe was still softly buzzing, but if I was careful I could heave my pussy out of it's reach. I could feel myself dripping onto the floor.

My relaxation came to an end the moment i felt something new settle against my feet. My eyes widened under the mask. I cried weakly and jerked. No no no, I couldn't do this, not again. Something else locked in place behind my knees. Then at my sides, under my arms, and even on either side of my neck. I trembled as the farmer's footsteps sounded in front of me again. Gently, he unbuckled the blindfold and stroked my hair as it fell away. I looked at him with big pleading eyes, not sure what he was doing. I babbled uselessly under the gag. Wordlessly he held up a little hand held mirror, but it was enough to see myself.

I was a sobbing mess, my long brown hair all askew, my eyes red and soaked. My skin had a pink flush to it and was shiney with sweat. My tits, from what I could see behind the stocks, were swollen. My nipples were engorged and larger than I'd ever seen them and bright red. But what really scared me was the device all around me. They looked like big pink buffer brushes. I could feel they were soft. They pinned my body at my ribs, my armpits, my neck, and I could feel the ones positioned at my feet and legs even if I couldn't see them. The farmer lowered the mirror and smiled at me. He held up a little remote.

"I prefer to take a more hands on approach with my 'faces'." He told her. "But I have other cows to attend to. So this will keep you company while I'm gone. We wouldn't be Laughing- I mean

Happy Farms

if our cows weren't smilin'."

I tried to plead with my eyes. Beg him not to do this. Just a little more rest. But he just winked at me.

"Remember what I said about cummin' and ticklin'?" He teased. He pressed the power button, and the buffer brushes all along my body whirred to life. Slow at first, then picking up speed.

Time no longer had any meaning. All that mattered was the tickling. It was everywhere. It was the only thing I felt, perhaps the only thing there was. I had no control of my body as I shook and strained and rocked in my binds. The brushes would change speeds, all different, in no set pattern. There would be no getting used to it this time. Meanwhile, my rocking would occasionally brush my sensitive clit into the softly buzzing vibe, causing me to jerk forward again. Over and over this repeated.

I screamed.

I sobbed.

I pleaded.

I came several more times.

But mostly, I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed, until it was the only sound I had left.

The farmer watched me for a little while longer before he whistled again and packed up his milking machine, placing it back on the cart all neat and tidy.

He pet my head again, though I barely noticed. The only sensations available to me now were tickling. He laughed.

"Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life little cow." He said sweetly. He fluttered his fingers behind my ear, a new ticklish spot that set my body rigid. "I'll see you tomorrow, we'll see if we can get those tits leakin' as much as your cunt."

Then he turned, whistling as he left. He closed the door to the barn, leaving me in the hellish throes of ticklish torture.