Mirabelle the Hucow

"The Red Menace continues to spread! But don't you worry! Our boys run on Milktec Milk! Boris doesn't hold a candle to the strength of a Milktec Man!"

—

The secretary looked up from her desk as they approached. "Hello, welcome to Milktec Industries! What is your name, please?"

Mirabelle smiled back nervously, "Hello, Mirabelle Hawkins."

"Now, don't be nervous dear, " the secretary said. "What you're doing is a service to your country, and there's nothing to be more proud of."

"Oh, yes, well, I really just need the money," Mirabelle said with a blush.

The secretary smiled sympathetically, "And that's nothing to be ashamed of either. Now just have a seat Miss Hawkins, and I'll let Dr. Phillips know you're here."

Mirabelle took a seat in the empty waiting room. Posters all along the walls showed soldiers with milk mustaches or crude depictions of Soviet soldiers on their knees beside goats. A television set in the corner showed Milktec trucks rumbling down supply lines while soldiers posed for the camera with their half empty bottles.

"Mirabelle?" the secretary said, stirring her from the daydream. "Dr. Phillips is ready for you now. Step through that door there." The secretary gestured gracefully to a brown wooden door on the left.

Mirabelle followed the direction, stepping into an exam room. A nurse waited for her with a plastered on smile. "Hi! I'm Sandy, and I'm going to get you started. Now I'm sure you have a lot of questions about how this whole process works, and Dr. Phillips is going to answer everything. He really is one of the best. Why I've helped hundreds of girls transition with him and, let me tell ya sweetie, he's one of the nicest Milktec doctors in the company. Aren't you a pretty little thing?"

Sandy guided Mirabelle over to a scale and weighed her. She pulled a rattling metal lever up on the scale and made a note of Mirabelle's height. "So, lots of girls do this?"

Sandy had her nose buried in charts. "Yes, of course. It's not like they say in the gossip magazines, you know. Why, my neighbor is one of those women, you know the type, the kind who never worked a day in her life. Looks down her nose at any woman who leaves the house every day. She sits on her patio with her new hairdo and fancy new diamond necklace that her husband bought her. That woman wants the world to think that her life is the best thing and couldn't be better. Wouldn't dream that her family would have anything to do with Milktec. That is until her daughter showed up here on her eighteenth birthday. Good girl too, wanted to do her part for her boyfriend who joined up with the army about that time." While she spoke, Sandy continued to make notes about hair color (blonde) and eye color (blue) and age (23). "That poor boy is in Albania or Croatia or something that ends in an -ia. Fighting Boris in the trenches with all those other young men. Hope it gives 'em comfort to know the young ladies back here are doing their best to help. Here, put this on."

Sandy handed her a light cloth gown. "Did she go through with it?" Mirabelle asked, meekly.

"What's that dearie?" Sandy asked. "Oh, Judy went through with it all right. Why I think she's still in the program, and it's been over two years now. Sweet thing, first thing she asked me is if that boyfriend of hers could get one of her bottles. You know, I told Dr. Phillips about that, and he said he'd pass it along. That it would be good for morale. Maybe we'll see some stories about it on the news reels soon. Wouldn't that be something? One of Sandy's daft old ideas on the movie screen." Remembering the task at hand, Sandy started gathering up her papers. "You can just leave your things in that tray, Mirabelle. We'll hold on to them for safe keeping until you're done. All set?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said with a slight quiver in her voice.

"Alright then, follow me."

***

Sandy led her through a short hallway into a new room. This one lacked any scales or charts or any kind of normal medical paraphernalia. In the center of the room stood a raised, padded exam table. Beside it was a metal platter with various needles on it. On the walls a variety of charts showed different angles of female anatomy. Every third chart was one of the propaganda ones she'd seen in the lobby. Finally, on a counter was an odd machine that looked like a combination of bicycle horns and a tea kettle.

A middle aged man in a white coat washed his hands at a sink in the back of the room. As they entered he smiled over his shoulder and said, "Just one moment."

Sandy nudged Mirabelle toward the table and shut the door behind them. The man dried off his hands and came toward them with broad steps. He was handsome for his age, with grey at his temples and sparkling eyes. His smile comforted Mirabelle.

"And who do we have here, nurse?"

"Dr. Phillips, this is Mirabelle Hawkins," Sandy said while handing him the chart.

"A pleasure, Miss Hawkins. Why don't you hop right up here, and we'll get started." He dropped the chart on the counter while pulling out a wheeled stool. He sat down and spun around to face her. "Now then, I see you have all the consent forms signed and your history down here. Good, good. Before we start I have to tell you some things due to the regulations and all that. Nothing serious, and if you don't understand something just stop me and I can explain it some more.

"First, you've agreed to become a Milktec Hucow for the period of six months from the day of your procedure. During this period you will be housed in a Milktec facility and provided board. You are agreeing to take patented Milktec Lactation Serum which will cause physical changes which may remain after you stop treatment. Any product created as a result of the injections while under contract will belong to Milktec Industries. In payment for your services, you will receive room and board as well as $200 a week. Mirabelle Hawkins, do you accept that these terms have been explained to you and that you are here of your own free will?"

Mirabelle took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Great, now that all that jargon is out of the way, we can get started. You can go ahead and take off that gown now."

Mirabelle looked at Sandy as the Doctor stood up and moved over to the tray of needles beside her. Sandy nodded with a smile. The young woman stood up and grabbed the hem of her gown, pulling it over her head. Dr. Phillips paid no attention to her, and she realized that he must see a hundred women like this every week. The chilly room made her nipples stick out, hard little nubs that sort of ached from the cold. She crossed her arms on her chest and sat back down on the cold fake leather padding.

"Now, now," Dr. Phillips chided. "No sense in being bashful. One of the first things I need to tell you is that, as a hucow, you're not going to enjoy wearing clothing very much. As you begin to produce milk, you'll find that any fabric on your breasts will be incredibly abrasive. The sensitivity won't be noticeable or unpleasant for most activities, but if you have on a polyester jumper, it might cause you a great deal of discomfort. And it's frankly more practical than wearing clothes all the time. Tell her, nurse."

Sandy nodded, "Some of the girls make it a week or two before it just drives them bonkers. After that, they can barely stand the thought of wearing clothes."

Dr. Phillips picked up a syringe and held it in front of Mirabelle. "Now, this is the Serum. It's a highly guarded secret, but perfectly safe. This injection starts the process of transforming you into a hucow. Now what that means is that your breasts will grow several sizes larger, what is she nurse, a B-cup? Well, those will get to double D's at least. That takes about thirty six hours, which is very fast for the body to change. Also during this period, you're going to have an incredibly high levels of hormones in your system, which means you're going to feel hot flashes, mood swings, and all kinds of other stuff. Your bottom will also get bigger, which is just a side effect really, but some girls seem to like it."

He put one syringe down and picked up another. "This is what we call our Care Free Cocktail. We don't like for people to be under stress while the change is happening, so we give you a shot of this stuff. It relaxes you and makes you more open minded to what's happening. Tests have shown that it eliminates anxiety altogether."

Placing that syringe down, he picked up a final one. "Now, this one is not for today. This is the one that reverses the process. Once your contract is up, you will have the option to take this injection, and your body, assuming nothing out of the ordinary occurs, will return more or less to exactly how you look now. I will say that most girls do retain at least one cup size and you have to put off a bit of weight on your own."

He put the antidote syringe down and picked up the serum. "Alright, are you ready?"

Mirabelle was fraught with second thoughts. What would boys think of her? What would her family do? Would she ever see her friends again after all this? "Yes, I'm ready."

"Good, turn around and bend at the waist, this one goes in your right buttock," Dr. Phillips said, his voice suddenly losing its charm. Sandy handed him a swab, and Mirabelle felt a cold sensation on her butt cheek. "Little pinch," the doctor said.

He held her in place with one hand as he prepared the needle with the other. Her face flushed at the feeling of his hand on her bare bottom. Was she imagining it or was his hand kneading her virgin flesh? Did she hear a slight wistful sigh issue from his lips? A sharp pain came from the cold spot. In seconds, the needle was out and a bandage on the injection site. "Other side now, nurse." Another sharp pain that almost instantly dissolved. This time, no bandage or cotton, just a swift smack on her ass.

"Alright, hard part is done. Sandy you can go prep the next one. Ok, Mirabelle, I'm going to need you to stay with me a little longer." He snapped his fingers in front of her.

Warm sensations crept over her body. She remembered waking up in a warm bed on an early winter morning before the furnace had been lit. The smell of bacon and biscuits floating in the air. The feeling was familiar and comfortable as it swirled around her, like the world was a temporary distraction keeping her from sweeter dreams. Dr. Phillips snapped again, and she was back in reality.

"That's the drugs working, but you need to focus for a few minutes. See this?" he held up the odd machine she had seen earlier. "This is a milk pump. Once your udders come in, we'll be attaching this to you, and it will pump out your milk. You'll have one in your stall, and you should use it whenever you feel like you need to. If you go too long without milking, you will start to hurt. We have to show it to the girls so they don't wake up afraid if we've already started milking before the sedative wears off."

Mirabelle nodded dreamily. The thought of being milked made her wet. She seemed to remember that this wasn't very lady like but she didn't care. Dr. Phillips smelled like warm earth and honey. Why wasn't he touching her, she wondered.

"Get up, this way," he said. Dr. Phillips led her to a door at the back of the room and into another hallway. He spoke as he made the way to door number five. "This is your transition room. You'll be in here for a while, and then you'll be transported with the other girls from today to your new homes." He opened the door and gestured for her to move inside.

It looked like a nicer version of a hospital room. A small bed with a nice looking comforter and several pillows occupied the center. Shelves holding books and small odd things like snow globes and other knick-knacks lined the walls. She did notice a milking station similar to what the doctor had shown her, and the most alarming thing was a man sitting beside the window looking out serenely.

"Mirabelle this is Jonathan. Jonathan is going to be your transition partner. If you get hungry, press this button here. And if you need the facilities, press this button here. Welcome to Milktec Industries."

***

Dr. Phillips shut the door behind him. She heard charts clattering in a tray outside, and then the doctor's shadow left, allowing a thin beam of light from the hallway into the room.

Jonathan did not move from his seat, but he looked at Mirabelle with a broad grin on his face. He looked younger than her, and he was handsome. She had seen men without their shirts on before, but not one so muscular and broad shouldered. Jonathan wore a bright white towel around his hips, but she could see a V-shape in his musculature as he stood that gave her butterflies. "Hello," he said, politely. His face was smooth and well defined. All the boys she had known had soft faces, not this type of strong jaw, like men from the films. He even had curly hair, the locks somewhat framing his face, but in no ordered fashion.

Jonathan made a concerted effort not to look directly at the petite woman's nakedness. Despite himself, he couldn't help but allow his gaze to linger on her sex. His cock stirred underneath the towel, and he decided to make conversation to hide his arousal. "You're very pretty," he said, awkwardly. The words fumbled out of his mouth like marbles.

"Thank you," Mirabelle replied. She wanted to see him without the towel. It was all she could think about, but she too felt that conversation was somehow needed. "What is a transition partner?"

He blushed, "Oh, well, it's what they call the men who help. They said that girls like you get really....in the mood. Supposed to help with my development too, they said."

Mirabelle was puzzled, "Your development? Did you get a procedure done too?"

Jonathan nodded, taking a seat on the foot of the bed. Mirabelle sat down beside him, feeling the heat of his body close to hers. "I have asthma. Couldn't enlist, but wanted to do something. I got a flier in the mail saying that guys like me could still serve our country. Soon as I graduated high school, I sent in my application to Milktec. They approved it, and here I am. Had my injections about an hour ago, so I guess I'm a bull now."

Mirabelle smiled and leaned her shoulder against his, "And I'm a...hucow? I think that's what they called it. You've been in here for an hour? What's supposed to happen to you?"

"Oh," he blushed. "I was reading in this pamphlet." He held up a small trifold pamphlet titled "What to Expect as a Milktec Bull". "Apparently, my 'cock' is going to get bigger. Sorry, the pamphlet says we should start using words like that. Here, it says 'Hucows and Bulls thrive on sexual energy. A Happy Hucow is a productive Hucow. A Happy Bull makes Happy Hucows. Every part of your day should be centered around being a productive worker! Our extensive research finds that clinical words like "penis" or "buttocks" cause negative emotions in Hucows. Milktec encourages the use of colloquial slang to refer to anatomical parts. Instead of penis try cock! Instead of vagina, say pussy, snatch, or cunt. No more bottom or buttocks! Say hello to the luscious Hucow rump or ass! And don't forget the most important part of all, a Hucows soft and pillowy udders can be called tits or jugs.'"

Mirabelle giggled at the words, but she did feel an easiness about hearing them. Words like that would have mortified her only an hour ago. "So, these are my tits," she said, looking down at her breasts. "Huh, I think they've gotten bigger already. They feel nice. Here, touch them. Grab my tits," she said with a laugh.

Nervously, Jonathan brought his hand up to her breasts. Placing his palm on the underside, he gave a light squeeze, and Mirabelle stopped giggling. His thumb brushed over her nipple, and she let out a quick gasp of pleasure. "They do feel nice," he said, entranced. Remembering himself, he pulled away. "Anyway, my cock is supposed to get bigger. Balls too. It says here, 'The Bull's enlarged cock is a better fit for mounting a Hucow. The extra size simulates the clitoris and brings the hucow great pleasure, and a Happy Hucow is a Productive...' well you get the idea." He tossed the pamphlet on the bed beside them.

Mirabelle had not been listening very closely. A burning sensation had taken hold in her breasts after Jonathan touched them. The feeling wasn't unpleasant but it made her restless. "Can I see it?" she asked, bluntly.

"What?" Jonathan replied, a bit surprised.

"I want to see your cock. I'm sitting her ass naked, and you're wearing a towel. That's just not fair. So off with it, and let me see your cock."

Jonathan hesitantly stood up and undid the towel. It fell to the floor, and he winced as cool air hit his stimulated cock and balls. Mirabelle's eyes were wide and her mouth slightly agape.

"Oh wow, that is big," she said in a low voice. "That is going to fit in my....my pussy? Can I touch it?"

Jonathan's cock started to rise, "Sure, go ahead."

Mirabelle placed her small hand on the thick cock between Jonathan's legs. She estimated it to be about eight inches long and about as thick as a half dollar. It was rigid and getting harder from her touch, she realized. Wrapping her small hand around it, she felt the pulse of Jonathan's heartbeat throbbing through his dick. "Jonathan, will you fuck me? Will you please fuck me with this cock?"

She quickly climbed on the bed and turned around, driven by an unknown instinct. Jonathan's balls tightened at the sight of her fit body bending over, presenting her ass to him. She looked over her shoulder, "Come on, be a real Bull and mount your Hucow's rump, put that fat cock inside of me." The words were foreign to her, but they inflamed Jonathan's lust.

He grabbed her hips, the touch of his rough hands driving her wild. The head of his cock nudged against her opening. Her juices coated his rod as he pushed along her slit. Pulling back, he tried again, this time guiding his cock forward with his hand. The feeling tantalized them both. The delicious warmth of a wet and wanton pussy enveloped his growing cock for the first time. Mirabelle's walls stretched for the hot, eager cock ready to spew cum inside of her.

Mirabelle let out a low groan as Jonathan pushed forward into her, meeting little resistance despite her virginity. Her pussy stretched to take his whole length, and she imagined him growing even more inside of her, filling her to bursting. "Are you OK?" he asked.

"Oh god, yes, Jonathan, your cock feels so good! Please fuck me! Make me your cow."

Jonathan needed all his faculties to maintain restraint. His blood boiled, and his heart pounded in his ears. He ran his hands across her lower back, pushing her shoulders down as he pulled her rump to him. With a steady rhythm, he began to move in and out of her, delighting in the feeling of her walls rippling along his length. The sight of her made his balls swell with cum. Mirabelle's ass wasn't the tiny pert thing it had been when she walked into the room. Her flesh had doubled and grown rounder, more feminine. When he pushed in, a ripple would course through her bubble butt until he pulled back again.

Mirabelle sensed something entirely new, an electric tightness building in the core of her stomach. Tiny shocks of pleasure would shoot throughout her body as Jonathan pushed forward. His hands massaged her ass cheeks and roved over her body, pulling and pushing her as he wished. Jonathan's pace quickened. Mirabelle brought a hand up to her breast and squeezed, another wave of pleasure erupting from the pressure. She pulled her hand away and felt something wet. "Oh, Jonathan wait!"

He grunted in borderline discomfort, but stopped moving. "What is it?"

"I need the pump, hang on," she said. She elbowed her way forward, letting a few inches of his cock slip out of her. Grabbing the pump from beside the bed, she pulled it beneath her swinging teats. Jonathan let out a satisfied groan as her hot pussy pushed back down on his cock. Fixing the pump beneath her growing udders, she started rocking her hips along his length, and he resumed his rhythm. Mirabelle flicked on the pump and it whirred into action, pulling and pushing her nipples until a steady stream of milk poured into the cups. The feeling was ecstasy, and her mind was lost to incoherent moans.