Life on the Farm - the Doctor Is In

Clarisse Evans stared at her computer screen in despair. She had been working on this project for months, but it had yet to bear fruit. Her supervisor had wanted her to get data. She got the data. He had asked for simulations. She'd run them. He wanted reports. She wrote them up.

But more than anything they needed a test subject. No amount of research and development could replace a living, breathing test subject, one whom they could draw the most current and accurate data from. She'd asked around, posted and bulletin boards and suchlike...but no one had signed up. All because the success rate of the serum was only 75%. 75%, they said, still too dangerous. Balderdash! 75% was three quarters. 75% was plenty.

If only she could get that grant. It would make things so much easier. If only. But no one ever got to first place on a road of if onlys.

Clarisse sighed, powered down the computer and left her desk. It was time to take matters into her own hands.

--

Her supervisor's office was only five minutes away. A mixed blessing, because as easy as it was to contact Brian Adams, Dean of Veterinary Science at the University of California, it was equally easy for him to check in on her. But this time she had something totally different in mind.

Brian was seated at his desk - as he almost always was - when she came in. He took one look at her and his normal jovial expression melted away.

"Clarisse...this is not just about you delivering your latest report, I take it?"

"No it's not, Brian. We've wasted enough time here. We both know that the project has stalled, and that we desperately need a guinea pig to make any kind of forwards progress. I've volunteering myself."

He wasn't as shocked as she thought he would do. Instead he simply closed his eyes and massaged his temples before looking at her intently.

"Doctor Evans...do you understand what you're asking for?" He knew the gravity of the situation, then. It was only Doctor Evans when things got serious.

"I do. I understand the process is a one-time thing and cannot be under any circumstances reversed."

"And you'd go so far for..."

"For science." she finished his sentence for him.

"Science, eh? You're sure the Phillips Prize isn't in there somewhere?"

The coveted Phillips Prize. The greatest honor any biologist could receive. It spanned multiple disciplines and was only ever awarded to the best in the field. She wanted it. How could she not? She didn't know any academic who didn't. But there was also the matter of testing her theories. She was a scientist, and to be able to prove the worth of her research meant more to her than any prize, no matter how vaunted.

It would be nice to win it though.

"Well, yes. Perhaps. A bit. But mainly for science."

The dean spread his hands wide in a gesture of defeat. "It's your body, Doctor Evans. I can't tell you what to do with it."

Well, that was easy. She had expected Brian to put up more resistance. "When do I get started?"

"You'll need to see the doctors about this. Hucow injections first, and then the serum. Make sure they monitor you from start to finish. We need the data." Clarisse nodded. With any luck all would go according to plan.

She turned to leave the office, but Brian had some last words for her.

"Clarisse? Good luck."

She turned to give him a smile. "Thank you, Brian."

--

The doctors at the clinic were very professional about the whole thing. After a series of routine tests, they gave her the hucow injections and told her to come back tomorrow. Plenty of bed rest and water, she was told. Come see us if anything happens.

She took their advice and went home immediately to sleep it off. Upon waking up in the morning, she could already see her body changing. Her once-pert breasts had swollen into one cup size larger. She touched them experimentally. No heightened sensations, so the growth was still minimal. How big would she eventually become? She was a little scared of knowing the answer...but she had known the risks when she signed up.

Would she get horns? A tail? They developed in some hucows, but not others. The thing she was most worried about was the increased libido. She had never been sexually active beyond her teens, preferred the company of books and computers to men. There had been a few wild dalliances in her younger years, but nothing serious. But now...it didn't bear thinking about though. She'd just have to wait until the effects manifested themselves.

But now on to the main act.

She opened a drawer on the beside and looked the row of cylinders filled with green fluid lying there. The Evans Serum...well, that was what she hoped they would call it when she was done. Right now it was still in its testing stages, but there was no reason that it wouldn't succeed. At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

There were many issues with the milk production of hucows, not in the least the fact that most women didn't fancy becoming one. It was a process that was irreversible, and the accompany physical and mental changes meant that once transformed, the chance of reintegration into normal society was little to none. Farms and the government did all they could by paying high salaries and advertising widely, but that was sometimes just not enough. After the genewars, the world needed more babies and milk, but both were in short supply.

Clarisse Evans aimed to solve both problems with her serum. It would increase milk production in hucows, as well as make them more fertile. Currently, hucows could only be impregnated by a bull (of which there weren't many) and then only when they were in heat. Though most hucows went into heat often, they were still subject to natural biorhythms.

With the serum, not only would hucows be able to produce more milk, a human male would be able to knock them up...and their offspring would be either a bull or a hucow. In a generation or two, the world would want for babies nor milk no longer. All because of her serum...the Phillips Prize would then be a foregone conclusion.

If it all worked. That was a big if. The simulations had all tested fine, but they had no volunteers. 75% said everything would go as they thought it would. 25% said...not, and it was that last quarter that was the biggest stumbling block. Add that to the fact that the serum had to be used on a hucow, and those were in short supply to begin with.

So Clarisse had decided to cut the Gordian Knot by making herself the first test subject. What better way to show that her research was safe than by testing it on herself? She wasn't worried in the least. She had faith in her work, and she'd show the world just how wrong and scared they had been.

Picking a cylinder up with its accompanying injector, she injected herself with the serum. Settling back into her chair, Clarisse sighed. Well, that was done. All that remained now

was to wait and see.

--

Tomorrow dawned on a very expectant Clarisse Evans.

She checked herself. The doctors did a good job, but she had to maintain proper records for her research as well.

Let's see...heart rate was normal. Pulse normal. Red and white blood cell count was doing good. No significant changes there.

Now on to what she did expect to change - her body. A few brown spots had appeared on her legs, and a black one on her stomach.

Time to report to the clinic. She got there bright and early in the morning and was given the all clear. Then after that was a quick trip to register herself at the nearest farm. She'd

be going there soon enough when she had finished her transformation.

It took a week for her to fully become a hucow. Before she could see any results from the serum, she had to complete the transformation process. Doctors had told her (and she knew from her own research) that though certain things were common among all hucows, each individual one was different. Some developed horns, some didn't. The same went for spots and a tail. But all hucows shared the singular traits of an enhanced bust, increased libido and milk production...as well as going into heat on occasion.

The hucow-to-be doctor waited and watched herself with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. She knew all about the process in theory, but it was quite something else to experience it firsthand.

First off was the breast growth. In two days her previously flat chest had swelled into two firm D-cups. They thrusted up and out from her in defiance of gravity, twin protuberances that bounced slightly every time she took a step. She tested them in front of her mirror, awed at her sudden boobage. They weren't just jiggly but firm as well. She prodded herself experimentally with a finger and was gratified to see the resilience and give of her skin. If she was the doctor in charge of herself, she'd give herself an A.

Her nipples had changed as well to match her new larger tits. They had lightened to a coral pink and thickened and enlarged slightly. Her areolae grew as well, becoming the size of silver dollars. All necessary for the milk that was soon to come from her breasts.

Horns were next. On the second day a pair of nubs made their appearance on the crown of her scalp. Over the next few days that had begun to curve out slightly. By the end of the week the doctor-hucow was sporting two cute (at least she thought they were cute) horns curving from the head and peeking out from her scalp. She was relieved that she hadn't grown the large tusk-like ones that she saw some hucows had. It wasn't so much the appearance (though she preferred her smaller pair) than the weight...how did those girls walk?

Clarisse knew that that was just the start of things, and she spent an evening wondering at the changes in her body. What would be next? What would she look like after? And what had she even gotten herself into? Well, too late to turn back now.

It turned out that she was in for the works - horns, tails, AND spots. Perhaps it was a side effect of taking the serum early. In retrospect she should have waited, but she had just been too eager to see what her results of her labor would be like. A long white speckled tail sprouted from her backside, and Clarisse spent a bit of time swishing the floor with it, fascinated with its range of movement. Controlling it was a bit like moving a third arm that she never knew she had until now.

She burst out into spots all over. On day 6 it was just black ones on her shoulders. Day 11 brought more on her legs. By the end of the month she was covered head to toe with them. In addition, her skin had even whitened and become just a little smooth and tough like leather, so she really did look like a cow on human legs.

Her boobs surged out once more. The first week had ended with D cups, but by the time she was deemed on official hucow by the farm doctors, they had ballooned out into huge spheres of flesh about half the size of watermelons. She touched them experimentally, amazed at their heft, size and sensitivity. Not for the first time, Clarisse was grateful that hucows developed strengthened back muscles to deal with the weight of their new breasts. She hadn't expected them to be so sensitive either...the doctor rarely masturbated (research took up most of her time) but the first time she touched her full-grown boobs, they had sparked off a reaction in her nether regions so intense that she spent the better part of the evening with her hand between her legs. If that was the reaction she got from a touch...what would it feel like when she was finally milked? She didn't know whether to be scared or excited about that.

Her hips widened as well (to aid in birth, probably) and her backside plumped out into a caboose that was easily twice the size of her previous one. With all the changes to her lower regions, her entire gait had changed as well - her new breasts and hips adjusted her center of gravity so that she could not help but sway a little when she walked. Clarisse had never thought of herself having a catwalk strut, but now she had one - well, just a little.

Her horns were of the large and curved variety, growing straight out from her head and forming a crown in her hair. Thankfully they weren't too heavy, so they didn't press down on her head - she wasn't sure what she might have done if that had been the case. Clarisse told herself to look on the bright side - it was like having a permanent fashion accessory.

There. It was complete. Clarisse Evans stared at herself in her bedroom mirror. The woman in front of her did not at all resemble the one there a month before. The former Clarisse Evans had been a wiry, lanky lady who spend most of her time in front of a computer - and it showed. The woman - hucow, rather - she saw in the mirror was a lush, radiant figure, full-figured and curvy. Even her hair had become longer and more lustrous, turning from mousy brown to a thick chestnut. Clarisse found herself liking the change. She was a lot healthier, for one.

Her heat hadn't started yet - for which she was very grateful. All the changes were a bit overwhelming. The physical changes weren't only on the outside either. Clarisse found herself definitely more horny than before...masturbation, once an irregular activity, became a daily occurrence. And she knew well enough that her breast growth would also signal to her milk ducts that they were to start production soon enough. Her doctor's mind knew that she had to get herself off to a farm, and soon.

So she got on the first cab she could and booked a ride to the nearest farm in the area - a rustic place called Brighton Farms.

--

Clarisse had no idea what to expect on the long trip to the farm. She had read about hucows as part of her research of course, but as she was discovering, the reality was very much different from what you read in books. No one told her about how heavy her new breasts would be (no doubt filled with milk) or how her tail would get in the way of sitting down. Only time would tell if she would regret her decision...right now she just had to get to the farm.

It turned out that she had nothing to worry about. Everyone there was welcoming and cheerful, which did a lot for taking off the edge of her anxiety. The registration process was simple and easy, and before the day was out she had been given a room and a milking schedule. Brian had done some legwork for her, and they were expecting her to arrive, which made things a lot simpler.

The farm doctors had told her that the serum results would be ready as soon as she had finished being milked tomorrow. Which was good - she couldn't wait to get started. The sooner she got the results, the sooner she could crunch the data, and the sooner she could put her theories to the test.

But first things first. She was registered as a member of staff, and given a room and a schedule. The latter was simple enough - milking in the afternoon, three times a week. She had expected more, but she reasoned that were probably going to start her off slowly. She headed to her room and rested for the better part of the day, putting her notes in order for tomorrow.

--

The doctor-turned-hucow woke bright and early the next day. It was a sunny morning, and she was eager to get started. After a satisfying breakfast, Clarisse was off to Room 202, where she was told that the milking station was.

The gleaming silver tanks on the table were just like the ones that she saw in her research texts. With any luck, they would operate the same way as well. But after a few false starts with the clamps on the machines, Clarisse ran into an unexpected problem.

Her breasts were too sensitive! She had only to brush her hands against them before fireworks got set off between her legs. They just felt too good...if this was just the first day on her job, how did the hucows even get any work done! Not to mention that fact that they were so big that it was hard to try to hold a tit in one hand and fit it into a clamp with the other. Clarisse glared at the suction cups angrily. How was a girl - sorry, hucow - supposed to get her boobs into these things?

While she struggled with the clamps, she was also aware of a burgeoning heat in between her legs. All that fussing around with her chest was making her wet. She was torn as to whether to continue milking or to send a hand down to her snatch to get some relief. When a knocking on the door interrupted her train of thought.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Doctor Evans? I'm Liam, the bull assigned to you. Mr. Bennett said that you might need some help being milked?"

How could she forget? And here she was supposed to be the doctor. She wasn't supposed to milk herself...the bull was supposed to do it.

The bull. The very mention of the word sent a thrill down her spine and into her pussy. She was a cow, and he was a bull, and he was supposed to...she shook her head. Don't think about it!

"Come in!" she replied.

The door swung upon and Liam entered. He was a fine figure of a bull, all corded muscle and . He sported a long ponytail that Clarisse found rather attractive...or maybe it was just her hormones speaking? If she had been in her rational frame of mind, she would have noticed herself licking her lips.

"You're probably having a little trouble with the clamps. Here, let me help." He strode over to manage the equipment. Clarisse found herself staring at equipment of a different type.

She had no idea bulls were so, so...big. His cock swung about from his legs like a club. It wasn't just his rod that Clarisse was interested in...she found herself transfixed by his

large hairy ball sack as well. He looked so, so...male, for lack of a better word.

Stop it, Clarisse! She told herself firmly. They would be professional about this. It was just the hormones. Yes, just a biochemical reaction, nothing more, nothing less. But even as she said it her gaze was drawn back to his dick and balls. She was a cow, and he was a bull, and she hoped for nothing more than for him to get her on all fours and...no, Clarisse, stop that!

She turned her mind back to the matter of milking, hoping it would distract her. "Yes, it's all so easy in the books. I understand the mechanism, but the clamps keep on slipping off!"

"It's alright, Doctor Evans. Just leave it to me." Before she could react he had reached out and placed his firm hands on her breasts, guiding them into the clamps. Clarisse gasped at the feeling of his skin on hers. He was so warm...she fidgeted slightly as he affixed the milking clamps to her giant teats. This was all done in silence, which she was grateful for - she found it hard to continue talking with a handsome bull fondling her breasts, no matter what for purpose. She hoped he didn't realize how fierce she was leaking down there...or maybe she hoped he would.

Brian seemed oblivious to her situation. He was completely professional, flicking on the milking machines after he had gotten everything set up. Within seconds they had whirred to life and starting sucking the life-giving milk out of her. Clarisse moaned again as machinery did its work - she hadn't expected it to feel so good! It was like being massaged by a thousand tiny fingers all at once, sparking off a series of mini-orgasms. It was hard to describe the feeling exactly, the life-giving fluid being pulled from her pump by steady pump. Not only did her breasts feel shudders of pleasure go through them, it was also the knowledge that this milk would be going to hungry children the world over. She felt...fulfilled, even.

The unfamiliar sensations had her unsteady on her feet a bit, but Liam positioned her so that she would be able to stand properly. Now all that was to be done was wait until the pumps had finished that work.

But there was the not-inconsiderable matter of how horny she felt. The suction on her huge teats was stimulating, and Liam's presence just made it worse. She sniffed slightly, taking in a whiff of his powerful male smell. She snuck a glance at him. He was a fine specimen of a bull - his broad shoulders, rock-hard abs (which she longed to reach out and touch) and of course, the cock dangling from between his legs. It looked delicious.