Lacey sighed, setting her two empty pails down on the hay-strewn floor. It was becoming a more and more regular occurrence, and this was the third time this week she’d come in and had to reset the machine before she could get to work.

It had become one of her duties almost, partly because the rest of the staff were terrified to touch the thing. The state of the art, fully automated milking machine had to be worth about as much as any of their salaries, and the other employees all were too afraid of breaking it to risk trying to reset it.

Lacey had fixed it the first time they’d come in to find all the settings and fittings adjusted, back before they knew the cause of the changes, and, worried she’d be blamed if it was broken, had all but memorized the manual when trying to get it back to the correct specifications. When it happened again, a week later, she’d almost cried, but at least she remembered how to fix it.

Now fixing it was practically muscle memory, her focus entirely on her annoyance that she had to keep wasting her time doing this. “Ugh,” Lacey wrinkled her nose up in disgust as she cleaned and sanitized the sour smelling, dried, white liquid from the big glass suckers. “The least she could do is fucking clean up after herself,” the beleaguered milkmaid muttered to herself.

The mystery of who was tampering with the machine had been solved fairly quickly, about a month after they discovered something was amiss. Lacey had been ranting about who could be doing this, and for what possible purpose other than to infuriate her personally, when another milkmaid, Mandy, had walked up to the machine, ducked under the guide bars, and bent over the adjusted rail, grabbing the moved automatic suckers and held them up to her boobs.

“Well, the purpose is pretty obvious,” she explained to a very baffled Lacey. “As for who,” she let go of the two suckers, gauging the distance between her chest and where they’d been left, “it’s someone with much bigger tits than me.”

Lacey was flabbergasted. “Why in the world would someone hook themselves up to a milking machine?”

“If I had to guess, probably because it feels good,” Mandy stated, sticking her finger down the long glass tube, unable to reach the black piping at the bottom that fed whatever was sucked into the receptacle.

Horrified, Lacey had quickly checked, but the pails inside were all empty. “Surely that can’t feel good.” She tenderly reached for her own chest, wincing as she imagined her nipples being pulled by the intense suction of the machine. “What kind of twisted pervert would like that?”

Mandy had laughed at her. “Oh Lacey, you innocent, naive girl. Do yourself a favor and don’t look this one up.”

She’d taken Mandy’s advice, at least at first. She just kept resetting the machine to work on the intended animals, quietly resenting the mystery culprit who was making her job more difficult. But then the culprit got sloppy. Figuratively, and literally. The first time she’d discovered milk residue, she’d been sure it was her fault, that she hadn’t cleaned the machine properly the day before. Even having grown up on a farm and having been milking cows as long as she could remember, and knowing that the milk in the machine did not come from a cow, she refused to believe that it could come from a human. Just imagining it made her think that perhaps the culprit had a child and was nursing upset her.

And then she found the earring.

Half buried in the hay under the machine, a single cow shaped earing had been left. Before she could even share her find with Mandy or the others, the farmer’s daughter had come into the barn.

Lacey knew Becca mostly by reputation. Spoiled little rich kid, not your typical farm girl, she was known to party, and she’d been kicked out of some fancy college a few months ago. Thinking about it, she’d come back to the farm after flunking out about the same time Lacey had started finding the milking machine tampered with.

“Good morning, Miss Becca,” Lacey greeted her, bowing her head in respect.

“Hello maid,” Becca had replied as she flounced into the stall. She ran her hands over the machine with a familiar touch.

“Can I help you, Miss Becca?”

Becca had leaned over, looking around on the ground. Lacey couldn’t help but be reminded of Mandy’s comment about the culprit having bigger tits than her. Becca was very busty, her obvious lack of bra and loose fitting designer top doing very little to conceal her ample bosom, complimented perfectly by her full, shapely ass, framed by a tight pair of jeans that seemed almost painted on as she bent over, scanning the floor. “Actually, you can. Did you happen to find a piece of jewelry around here?”

Lacey had gulped, stunned at the brazenness of the girl. Did she think Lacey was so dumb as to not put two and two together and figure out what she was doing in the barn at night? Or did she just not care? Wordlessly, she had pulled the earring out of her pocket, and Becca had snatched it from her hand. “There it is!” Without so much as a thank you, she’d turned and headed for the door, only pausing at the last minute to look back and tell Lacey that if she ever found anything else, hold it for her.

Lacey had wondered with perverse curiosity what other things her employer’s daughter might leave behind for her to find, to the point where she had to know more, and against her friend’s advice, and her own better judgment, one night she’d googled what Becca could be up to. Mandy had been right. She was innocent and naive, and what she’d found had only confused her more as she stumbled into a world of girls being treated like cattle. From there she’d gone down a rabbit hole of girls dressed like and acting like various animals, including at one point a girl dressed like an actual rabbit, in a particularly upsetting video of her pushing an Easter egg out of her vagina. Some were restrained, and she figured it was some male fantasy, dehumanizing women, but the girls all seemed to be enjoying themselves, even the ones who seemed to be meant to be acting like they were unhappy to be reduced to little more than a pair of udders.

She’d tried to put it out of her mind, but those images lingered in her brain. Every time she hooked one of the cows up to the automated milker, she couldn’t help but imagine hooking it to a woman, a naked, busty girl on all fours, moaning softly as the suction applied, pulling her nipples in, the rhythmic pumping drawing milk from her swollen breasts.

She even started to imagine it when she was manually milking the cows. What it might feel like to grab a big, full boob, to tug gently on the nipple until milk shot forth into her waiting bucket.

Lacey pushed these debaucherous thoughts aside. She was a good Christian girl, and even if she were inclined to such things, she was at work, and work was not the appropriate place for that kind of thinking. So she focused on the irritation of having to clean up after Becca’s strange proclivities. Twice more she had seen Becca around the farm, the spoiled rich girl oblivious that she was treating other people’s work place as her own perverted playground.

She’d finally finished scrubbing everything down and getting the machine back to its proper position when Mandy burst into the barn. “The boss is here!”

As far as employers went, Mr. Mercer was a good one. He paid his staff generously, and was not prone to micromanaging. He had high standards though, and after witnessing his severe reaction to finding the stables not cleaned to his satisfaction on one of his infrequent inspections, Lacey was careful to always do her job to the best of her abilities, lest she too end up unemployed like the poor girl who had displeased him.

So when Mandy gave her the heads up, Lacey found herself scrambling. Cleaning up after Becca had set her back by a half hour. She’d grown accustomed to making that lost time up throughout her day, but if Mr. Mercer asked her why the cows weren’t already being milked, Lacey didn’t know how she’d answer. It wasn’t as if she could tell him that his daughter was using his expensive machine to explore her sexual fantasies.

“Help me!” she hissed after Mandy, but her friend was already gone. She sprinted across the barn and threw open the heavy doors. The panicked milkmaid was greeted by the lowing of a dozen dairy cows. “Come on, Marianne.” She grabbed the closest cow, pulling her towards the door. The animal was happy to come along, ready for her morning milking, but the milkmaid’s pace was not what the larger creature was feeling, and the cow dug her hooves in, halting progress.

“I’m sorry,” Lacey said, stroking the massive beast’s nose. “I know I’m late, but you’re right, you shouldn’t have to suffer because of someone else’s behavior.”

Marianna let out a long, low moo, and settled into a gentle trot, letting the milkmaid guide her to the milking pen.

Lacey froze in the door, and the cow bumped into her, pushing her into the room. Mr. Mercer was inside, inspecting the machine.

“Mr. Mercer, Sir! I wasn’t expecting you!” Her heart was racing in her chest, and Marianne, seeming to sense her agitation, put her head on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

“Hmmm,” he mused, inspecting one of the teat suckers. Lacey prayed she’d done a good job cleaning all the evidence off of it. “You do excellent work for me, Lacey.”

She gulped. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You’ve been with me for, what, three years now?”

“Almost, Sir, it’ll be three years come April.”

He nodded, still inspecting the machine. “And you’re the one who operates this machine the most, yes?”

“Almost exclusively.” Surely he could hear her heart pounding. “I’m good with machines, but I love animals.”

“You’ve taken good care of them both. I’m thinking about getting another one.”

Lacey allowed herself a moment to hope that this conversation wasn’t going where she was afraid it might, and she reached up, patting Marianne’s muzzle. “Another one?”

“Yes, a second one. So you don’t have to reset this one all the time.”

Her breath caught in her throat and her fingers continued to scratch at the air as the strength left her arm and it fell slowly to her side while she stared at him, dumbfounded. “Whuh— what?”

“I’m aware, Lacey. It’s come to my attention what my daughter’s been doing, and that you’ve been covering for her.”

“I don’t know— I haven’t been— what are you—”

He held up his hand, and she shut her flapping mouth. “I’m not upset with you. While I do wish you had come to me with this, I understand the difficult position my daughter put you in.”

The instant relief, just the compassionate tone coming from her employer, Lacey felt like she would burst into tears. She nodded rapidly. “I’m sorry, I should have told you!”

“It’s alright. You never should have been in that situation. You work for me, not my daughter, but she has overstepped her bounds for the last time.”

Lacey watched as his fist tightened, and suddenly she was nervous again. “What do you mean?”

“She was arrested last night. Evidently after her little escapade in the barn, she took my car and went out partying with some friends. She got drunk and wrecked my car.”

“Oh my god, is she alright?”

“Miraculously, not a scratch on her, and fortunately the man she hit wasn’t badly hurt.”

“That’s good.”

“Good?” He laughed out loud. “I raised a selfish, entitled brat! I suppose I was too easy on her as a child, but no more. If she wants to be treated like an animal, then so be it.”

“What, what do you mean?”

“Becca has always gotten what she wanted. I can think of no better punishment than giving her exactly what she wants,” he said, fiddling with the machine pointedly.

Lacey’s eyes widened. She took a step back, forgetting about the cow right behind her.

“I’d like to offer you, let’s call it a promotion. Before I offer it to, you are free to say no and I will harbor no ill will towards you for your decision. And I want you to know up front you will be getting a substantial bonus regardless of your decision for what my brat of a daughter has put you through.”

Lacey nodded along, no idea where her boss was going with this.

 “Seeing as you were inconvenienced by my daughter, I’m offering you the opportunity to witness her punishment.”

“What, what’s her punishment?”

“It’s rather, unconventional. I would completely understand if you chose not to. You can take your bonus and continue to work and put this whole thing behind you. I would count on your discretion of course.”

She nodded. “I won’t say anything.”

“I know you won’t. You can take the rest of the day off, and come back in tomorrow and it will be business as usual. Or, you can stay, and see if you’re interested in a special position.”

The barn was cold, but Lacey could feel sweat dripping down her body under her uniform. Months ago, she probably would have said no, without hesitation. It was none of her business. She’d take the money and keep her mouth shut. But now she had this, curiosity. What was this punishment? What was her employer going to do to his daughter? And what special promotion was he going to offer her?

Slowly she nodded. “I— I’d like to see.”

A smile spread across Mr. Mercer’s face. “Absolutely.” He pulled out his phone again and held it up to his ear. “Yes. Bring her to the barn,” he said before hanging up. “It’ll be just one moment. Go ahead and put that cow away. She can wait.”

Lacey turned, grateful for the distraction of a task. Marianne seemed confused as to why she wasn’t being milked, but she allowed the milkmaid to lead her back to the others. “I’m sorry, I’ll take care of you as soon as I can,” Lacey whispered to the animal. “I have, other things I have to do.”

The cow gave her one final moo, and then Lacey turned to see a woman she didn’t recognize entering the barn, greeting Mr. Mercer. The woman had her jet-black hair tied back in a severe bun that went well with her tight black blouse and pencil skirt. With her black-framed glasses and heels, she looked like a stern librarian.

“Lacey, this is Madam Winona. She specializes in disciplining wayward girls.”

Madam Winona extended a hand, briskly shaking Lacey’s.

“I’m Lacey. I, uh, milk the cows.”

“A pleasure, Lacey. I understand you want to be part of Miss Becca’s punishment.” It wasn’t a question.

“A part of? No, I just wanted to watch, if that’s okay…”

“As you wish.” She gave Lacey an odd look, but then she turned back towards the door. “Mrs. Mercer. She’s been stubborn her whole life. Now is not the time to give her what she wants.”

“She doesn’t want to come,” a woman’s voice came from outside. It sounded familiar to Lacey, and when she tilted her head to look outside, she saw Mr. Mercer’s wife walking backwards towards the barn. Lacey didn’t think she’d ever spoken with the lady of the house before. From what little she knew about the woman, she came from money and wasn’t much for the farm life, and she never ventured into the barns or fields of her husband’s property. She looked back over her shoulder to the barn door, showing her face. She was strikingly beautiful, but unlike the other brief times Lacey had seen her boss’s wife, her hair was disheveled, and her face conveying stress and worry.

“Excuse me,” Madam Winona said, striding out of the barn. Mrs. Mercer stepped to the side, revealing why she was struggling to make it to the barn. She was holding a leash, and Becca was on the other end of the leash. A leather gag was wrapped around her mouth, matching the leather collar attached to the leash she was being pulled along by. Her wrists seemed to be restrained behind her back, thrusting her large breasts out against the low cut, sparkly crop top she was wearing. The muscles in her bare legs were straining under her short black skirt as she tried to dig her heels in in the four-inch stilettos she was wearing. If Lacey had to guess, she was still wearing the same outfit she’d been wearing last night to go out partying, before she wrecked her father’s car and got arrested. The restraints though, Lacey would only guess at.

Madam Winona grabbed the leash from Mrs. Mercer, swiftly wrapping it around her fist and jerking on it. “You’ve caused quite enough trouble for your parents, young lady. Do you really wish to make your punishment worse?”

“Mmmmfffmmmghhh!” the girl cried, yanking her whole body backwards against the taught leash. She leaned too far back, losing balance on her skyscraper heels, and she fell. Madam Winona wasn’t much bigger than the girl, but she exhibited a surprising amount of strength as she held the insolent brat up by her leash while Becca coughed and choked behind her gag.

“You’re hurting her!” Mrs. Mercer cried, rushing forward to her daughter’s aid, but Madam Winona held up her hand, halting Mrs. Mercer in her tracks.

“Then she’d better get on her knees.”

Desperate not to choke, Becca climbed to her knees in front of Madam Winona. For a brief second, she made eye contact with Lacey through the door. Lacey felt like she should look away. She shouldn’t be witnessing this. But she couldn’t take her eyes away, staring as Madam Winona forced the girl to walk on her knees the rest of the way into the barn. Mrs. Mercer quickly made her way to her husband’s side where he put an arm around her, supporting her while she watched her daughter’s anguish. They’d spoiled this girl, Lacey realized. Now they had to watch as all the discipline they should have doled out her entire life was given all at once.

Madam Winona removed the girl’s gag, revealing to Lacey the size of the thing that had been forced into the girl’s mouth. “I understand this is where you like to come,” she said.

“It’s my dad’s property, I can go where I want,” Becca spat.

“And that entitles you to do whatever you please?”

“Of course it does! Dad, who is this bitch?”

Madam Winona slapped her across the face. The clap of palm against cheek echoed in the cavernous barn.

“I’m sorry sweetie. I tried too late to instill in you some discipline,” Mr. Mercer said.

“I’m the one in charge of turning you into a well behaved, obedient girl,” Madam Winona said.

“I’m going to sue you for this,” Becca said. She looked over at her parents. “I’ll sue you all for this.” Her glare lingered on Lacey for a moment before Madam Winona grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at her.

“Don’t speak to your parents like that.”

“You’ll pay for this.”

“No, my dear. I’m being paid to do this. You’ve grown up into a selfish, entitled brat. Even as the scales are coming off your eyes, you’re threatening to sue me, and your own parents. Where do you think your money comes from?”

“I have a trust fund!”

“And do you know what the ‘trust’ in trust fund is for?” Madam Winona asked, leaning in closer.

Becca looked to be thinking. “It doesn’t matter, it’s mine!”

“Of course you don’t know, stupid girl. Let me explain it to you. You only get that money when you graduate from college. They ‘trust’ that you can prove that you’re a responsible adult before they trust you with that money. But you were kicked out of school, and have made no efforts to apologize or get back on track.”

Becca looked at her parents. “Dad, that’s bullshit!”

Lacey couldn’t believe her audacity. She’d just threatened to sue her parents, and was now mad they weren’t giving her money.

“We told you that you needed to start being more responsible,” he told her.

Madam Winona reached forward and removed the leash from her collar. “You should have heeded your parents. But you know what they say; spare the rod, spoil the child.” She circled Becca and took off her cuffs, freeing her hands.

Becca immediately brought her arms in front of her and rubbed her wrists. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll show you.” Madam Winona walked a few feet to an extra milking stool sitting by the wall and sat down. Straightened her skirt, patting her lap as she said, “Crawl over here and lay across my lap.”

“What?! Hell no!”

“You can crawl over her, or I can come over there and make you.”

“Make me? What are you—”

I’m a flash, Madam Winona had stood up and closed the distance between the two of them. Lacey echoed Mrs. Mercer’s gasp as the woman grabbed Becca’s arm and wrenched it behind her back, using it to forcibly match her back to the stool, where Madam Winona promptly sat back down and pulled the struggling girl over her lap.

“Hey! What are you—”

She was cut off as Madam Winona struck her across her large ass.

“I’m disciplining you.” She struck her again. Her tone was calm and measured, as though spanking the adult woman over her lap was the most normal thing in the world.

“You can’t do this to me!” Becca screamed, trying in vain to get up, but Madam Winona held her in place easily.

Out of the corner of her eye Lacey could see Mrs. Mercer having to look away, but the milkmaid couldn’t take her eyes off of the scene unfolding before her. She watched as Madam Winona pulled Becca’s short skirt up, and Becca’s skimpy black thong did nothing to hide the red hue on her jiggling cheeks.

“It’s high time somebody did this to you. You’ve been a selfish, inconsiderate, ungrateful brat, and some discipline will do you good,” Madam Winona explained, her hand a blur as she paddled the brat’s bottom.

“Mom! Please! Dad! You can’t let her do this to me!” Becca wailed.

Mrs. Mercer had her face buried in her husband’s chest, unable to watch, but Mr. Mercer looked on. “We tried being patient and lenient with you. You brought this on yourself.”

Becca looked at Lacey, her teary eyes begging for help. “Please! Milkmaid!” she cried.

Lacey realized Becca didn’t even know her name. For months she been keeping this girl’s perversions a secret and cleaning up after her, and she couldn’t even be bothered to learn Lacey’s name. Clenching her fists, she hoped Madam Winona would spank her harder.

Becca’s pleadings turned into inarticulate yelps of pain. Her big ass was bright red when Madam Winona finally stopped.

“Are you ready to apologize to your parents for what you’ve put them through?”

Sniffling, Becca nodded. She looked up at her parents, her mother having pulled her face away from Mr. Mercer’s chest to see if her daughter was capable of remorse. “I’m sorry! I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll go back to school! I’ll take it seriously this time!”

“We’ve heard that before,” Mr. Mercer said.

“Please, I’ll do whatever it takes, just make this horrible woman go away!” she whined.

“I’m sorry honey,” Mrs. Mercer said. She sounded truly pained. “We want to believe you will, we really do. But your punishment isn’t over yet.”

“What?”

Madam Winona guided Becca off of her lap and onto her knees before her. “Do you why we’ve brought you to the barn?”

Becca looked confused, and she shook her head.

“I understand you like coming to the barn at night.”

Becca’s eyes widened with understanding, and then quickly narrowed as she glared at Lacey. “Whatever she told you, she’s lying!”

Lacey’s resentment towards this girl intensified, but before she could open her mouth to defend herself, Mr. Mercer spoke.

“She didn’t say anything. I won’t have you trying to tarnish the reputation of one of my employees. Your selfish actions have put her through enough already.”

Madam Winona grabbed Becca’s chin. “I’m sure you’ve heard stories of the parent who catches their child smoking.”

Becca gulped audibly, staring up at the disciplinarian.

“They make the child smoke the entire pack.” For the first time, Madam Winona’s stern expression morphed into a smile. “You like coming out here, pretending to be a cow, don’t you?”

Becca shook her head. “No I don’t,” but there was no conviction in her voice.

“If you want to be a cow so much, you can be a cow. Maybe after a month of living like an animal, with none of the human responsibilities you have neglected, you’ll have some appreciation and be ready to take your life seriously.”

“A month!!” she cried. She yanked her head away from Madam Winona’s grip to look beseechingly at her parents. “You can’t be serious!”

“We are,” her father said solemnly.

“You’ve given us no choice, sweetie,” her mother said.

Madam Winona turned to Lacey. “I understand you’ve been adjusting the milking machine after she’s used it. Could I trouble you to switch it back for her.”

After months and months spent fixing the machine after Becca had played with it, Lacey wanted nothing more. “It’s no trouble.”

She’d never had to switch the settings back, but she found it was easy enough, enjoyable even, as she lowered the bar to be able to hold Becca’s human body in place, bringing the two suckers into place to affix onto Becca’s nipples, lowering the power of the suction to a more manageable level. On impulse, she turned up the pressure by one more than what Becca left it on. It was supposed to be a punishment, after all.

When she finished, Madam Winona was leading Becca on the leash once more towards the milking stall. She’d stripped the girl naked, Becca’s voluptuous breasts swinging beneath her as she crawled on all fours towards the milking machine. Her freshly spanked ass wobbled with each forced step.

Lacey had seen plenty of videos of this very scene, but it didn’t compare to seeing it in person. Her heart was racing, but not out of fear this time.

“Thank you very much Lacey. Would you like to assist me in getting her hooked up?”

Lacey nodded. Her mouth was very dry. Becca wasn’t gagged, but she seemed as speechless as Lacey was when she stared at the milking machine. Surely she’d never experienced the thing from this perspective before. She’d always had to come in and set it up before she hooked herself up. Now, being lead up to it, leashed and nude, the machine ready and waiting for her.

“This is where you come at night, isn’t it?” Madam Winona asked, giving Becca’s leash a tug, getting her moving again towards the waiting machine. “You like getting those big fat udders of yours milked, don’t you?” She reached under the girl, grabbing a big handful of her hanging tit and squeezing. Becca moaned. “Oh, what is this?” She placed her index finger under Becca’s nipple and drew it back. A single white droplet was on her fingertip. “You’re lactating.” She put her finger to Becca’s lips, and without hesitation Becca latched onto her finger, sucking her own milk off of her disciplinarian’s digit.

Lacey couldn’t believe the shift from insolent brat, fighting her punishment, to the girl on her hands and knees in front of her. A blush had spread to her cheeks that nearly matched the color of her bright red derriere, but that didn’t stop her from wrapping her lips all the way up to Madam Winona’s knuckle.

“You naughty little thing,” the woman said, drawing her finger from Becca’s mouth. She pulled a black handkerchief out and wiped her finger dry. “You’re just dying to be milked, aren’t you?”

Becca nodded, crawling towards the machine again without needing to be prompted. Lacey thought she or Madam Winona might need to assist her, but Becca got into position with practiced ease. Her breasts hung down, perfectly positioned between two bars that ran under her torso. Another padded bar rested under her hips, keeping her ass thrust up and on display. She was reaching for the waiting suction tubes when Madam Winona finally stepped in and pushed her hands back down to the straw covered floor.

“Cows don’t milk themselves.”

Becca looked up at her expectantly. The woman took the tube she was about to grab in one hand, and gently grabbed her nipple in the other, tugging it ever so slightly.

Lacey briefly wondered if Becca’s parents were still watching, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away for even a moment to check.

“Turn it on,” Madam Winona instructed. Lacey didn’t even register that the woman was addressing her, until Madam Winona repeated herself, and Lacey hastened to obey. She pressed the button, and the machine hummed to life, the dangling mass of tubes shuddering as air began to be pumped through them, settling into a rhythmic sucking motion. Becca let out a soft cry of pleasure as her left nipple was pulled into the clear tube, stretching as it suctioned on above her areola.

“Would you like to attach the other one?” Madam Winona asked, the time looking up at Lacey.

“Me?”

Madam Winona’s emerald green eyes seemed to pierce her very sole, as she studied her. With a knowing smile, she said, “Go on. I know you want to.”

Lacey did. She’d done this hundreds of times, but the teat her trembling fingers held the tube up to was not that of a cow. It was vastly different, but looking at Becca, it was much the same. White milk was being drawn already into the tubes from her other nipple; clearly she needed to be milked. Her big, full breasts were basically a pair of udders, fat and pink and heavy. Her long, dark nipples could be confused for teats. The soft moans she was making were not unlike the gentle lowing of the cows. Her big brown eyes stared ahead, her gaze vacant like that of any empty-headed heifer.

Becca turned her head to Lacey, her face filled with longing, those big, brown eyes begging for Lacey to finish what had been started. Willing her hands to stop shaking, Lacey grabbed her other nipple between her thumb and index finger, pulling. Immediately a drop of milk formed at the apex of her nipple, and hung there for a brief moment before getting sucked down into the tube.

Becca squirmed, clearly pressing against the bars holding her in place, trying to get her boob closer to the milker. Lacey didn’t know why, but she pulled the tube further away. It just didn’t feel right to let Becca do it herself. Enjoying the girl’s frustrated moan, the milkmaid slowly pulled on her nipple, stretching her fat tit until her nipple reached the suction tube, and with a fleshy thuck noise, latched into place.

“So this is what you come out to the barn for? To be milked like a cow?” Madam Winona asked.

“N— no!” Becca spluttered, her cheeks turning red.

“Look at all that milk.” She crouched down, holding the tubes. White liquid was coursing through the clear plastic. “I bet you like milk, don’t you?”

The girl shook her head, but the moan that came from her lips unbidden said otherwise.

Madam Winona winked at Lacey, and then knelt in front of Becca’s face, taking her cheeks in her hand. “I found the hormone supplements you’ve been taking to make yourself lactate like a true dairy cow.”

“Whammmph!” Becca started to ask, but Madam Winona pulled out a large bottle from her bag and jammed it in Becca’s mouth. Lacey recognized it as one of the bottles they used to feed the calves.

“The supplements I’ve got for you are much, much more potent,” Madam Winona explained.

“Nnppphhh!!!” Becca tried to pull her head away, and thick white milk spilled down her chin, but the disciplinarian grabbed her by the hair and jammed the nipple deeper into her protesting mouth.

“Drink up. We have to make sure your udders grow nice and big and you keep producing that delicious milk.”

The girl had no choice but to start gulping down the creamy, fatty, hormone laced milk. Madam Winona’s grip on her hair slowly loosened and she started stroking her hair gently. The women turned to Lacey who’d been watching in awe. “She’ll need to be fed at least five bottles a day.”

Lacey gulped and nodded. That was so much, close to as much as they fed a growing calf.

“You should see an increase in her milk production very quickly.”

“Me?” Lacey asked.

“Yes. You wanted to take responsibility for her, did you not?”

She didn’t recall if she’d actually agreed to that or not, but she was afraid to disappoint this woman, so she nodded. And deep down, she did want to take responsibility for this brat’s punishment. “Are you leaving?”

“I’ll be back,” Madam Winona said, casually stroking Becca’s throat to keep her swallowing. “But I have other business to attend to. The bulk of her care will fall to you. I will help you and offer you any assistance you need, but I have the feeling you are quite capable of taking care of a cow like her.” Again she gave Lacey that knowing wink. The disciplinarian pulled the nearly empty bottle from Becca’s lips and gave it a shake. She took another bottle out of her bag and offered it to Lacey.

“Please! I’m so full!” Becca pleaded.

Lacey took it. She’d held plenty of bottles just like this one before. It was probably all in her mind, knowing what the bottle contained, but it felt heavier. “She said she’s full…”

“When a cow doesn’t want to drink, but you know it needs more, do you let it decide when it’s done?”

Lacey shook her head, looking down at Becca. “No. No I don’t.”

Madam Winona nodded approvingly while Lacey forced the nipple in between Becca’s milk covered lips. “You’re going to do fine.”

Lacey smiled. She would do fine.

***

Madam Winona brought her hooves first. Gloves that covered Becca’s hands, capped with a hard, useless black hoof, and a sleeve that fit over the girl’s knees, keeping her legs stuck bent with her heels pressed up against her big butt. Apart from the hooves themselves, the gloves and sleeves were black and white cow spot patterned.

“She has to wear these for a month?” Lacey asked, watching as Becca took a few faltering steps on her new hooves.

“She’ll get used to them,” Madam Winona replied, not answering her question, but Lacey didn’t press it.

Lacey had caught her the next morning in her pen, leaning against the wall for balance, bound legs spread wide to either side of her while she tried desperately to play with her pussy with her hoof encased hands. The milkmaid realized the truly devious double purpose of the hooves. She’d been so lost in her own attempts to get off, the cow bell dangling between her heaving breasts jingling while she rubbed her arm furiously up and down, that she hadn’t seen or heard Lacey arrive.

Lacey watched from the door, fascinated. Even in the midst of her excessive punishment, Becca was still turned on by her forced treatment as a cow. Her breathing was getting faster and heavier, and Lacey started to worry that she might achieve climax. It had never been explicitly said that she wasn’t allowed to cum. Surely the girl’s parents wouldn’t want her masturbating to being treated like a cow, but perhaps stating that was part of her punishment was crossing a line that was even more extreme than the lines they’d already crossed as parents. And Madam Winona, well, Lacey was honestly not sure where Madam Winona would stand on allowing it. The woman exuded an aura of dominant sexual energy. It could go either way whether or not the disciplinarian wanted her victim to get off on her punishment or not.

As Becca’s moans got louder, Lacey realized that it was her call. She was the only one there, and by default, she got to choose whether or not to allow Becca to orgasm. “Ahem.” she cleared her throat, stepping fully into the pen.

Becca froze, her big brown eyes widening as she looked up at Lacey. Her already flushed cheeks turned scarlet and she scrambled to close her legs.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Lacey asked. She savored the way the girl squirmed under her gaze, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Nothing!” Becca blurted.

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“Please! Let me out of these things! At least for a little bit!”

Lacey almost did as she asked without thinking. Surely the hooves had to be uncomfortable; the poor girl had been trapped in them for almost twenty-four hours. But she stopped herself. Becca was used to getting whatever she wanted. It might be uncomfortable for her, but Madam Winona had assured her that it wouldn’t do any real damage to the girl.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Becca asked. Clearly the word was still foreign to the spoiled brat.

Lacey retrieved the leash from its peg on the wall and approached Becca. “You need to get used to being told no. No, you’re not getting out of those hooves. No, I’m not going to let you out of your punishment. And no, you don’t get to cum.”

The thrill of denying the brat permission to orgasm gave Lacey a rush unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She was almost like Becca herself, so incredibly horny that she couldn’t even wait to get home after work. She pulled over on the side of the road and stuck her hand down her pants, squeezing her tits while she imagined they were Becca’s big melons, until she brought herself to a screaming orgasm right there in the driver’s seat. As she finished driving home, still basking in the afterglow, she justified her own behavior. She wasn’t being punished. Just as Becca wasn’t allowed to orgasm, Lacey was empowered to do whatever she wanted, and there was nothing wrong with that.

“Please,” Becca had begged her by the fifth day. “I’ve had enough! My nipples are so tender!”

Lacey thought back to Madam Winona’s words, that Becca would get used to it. Maybe she would, and maybe she wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean Lacey had to get used to her whining and complaining. “This is what you wanted.”

“Not like this! You have to let me go!”

“No I don’t,” Lacey said.

“Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll pay you more!”

“I don’t see how you’ll do that. Cows don’t have any money,” Lacey teased.

“I’m not a cow!” She opened her mouth, like she was going to say more, but she hesitated.

Lacey was about to point out that she looked like a cow, acted like a cow, but Becca’s hesitation gave her pause. “What’s my name?”

“What?”

“You still don’t even know my name!”

“I do too. It’s Marianne!”

The smug look on Becca’s face almost infuriated her more than the fact that the brat still hadn’t remembered her name and confused her for a cow. She wasn’t the one on hooves, a cowbell around her neck, getting her fat udders milked. But she was glad as she went over to her purse, bringing it back to the helpless hucow. Lacey had felt stupid at first for buying the thing she held in her fingers, like she was overstepping her bounds, but now she felt justified as she pulled out the black and white cow spotted ballgag she had purchased.

“It’s not Marianne,” Lacey said, pulling the straps taut, holding the ball in front of Becca’s face. “But that’s okay. None of the cows know my name. Cows don’t need to know my name. Because they don’t talk!”

Becca had tried to keep her mouth shut to prevent her milkmaid from gagging her, but Lacey only had to turn the suction up on the milking machine to get Becca moaning helplessly, and she’d forced the large silicone ball into the stupid girl’s mouth, shutting her up.

It had been infinitely more satisfying each time she checked on Becca, listening to her slobbery moans while she was milked.

“Good choice,” Madam Winona had praised her the next time she’d come to check in. Lacey had beamed with pride at the older woman’s approval.

“Thank you. She was getting too mouthy, and I thought the pattern very fitting.”

“You’re not being mouthy now, are you?” Madam Winona teased the helpless Becca.

“Mmmph,” Becca complained, a thick line of drool dripping down her chin.

“And look how big your getting.”

It was true. Becca was blessed with one of those enviable figures, where all her extra weight went to her tits and ass, as opposed to Lacey who always seemed to carry her extra pounds in her belly and thighs. But even Becca, after days of being fed on fatty milk and cream, her previously flat stomach was showing a bit of a curve. That itself was a small change compared to the growth of her boobs and butt. Whenever she was allowed to wear people clothes again, she’d need a new wardrobe for sure.

“Let’s see how much you weigh now, heifer.”

Lacey followed while Madam Winona hooked Becca to her leash and led her to the livestock scale, watching her big ass sway with each reluctant step. The site Lacey had found the ballgag on also had tails. She’d been reluctant to buy one at first, but now, she thought she might. A big fat plug forced between Becca’s big, round cheeks, with a cow tail swishing between her bound legs would look quite nice.

Becca balked, seeing the huge metal plate in front of her. Madam Winona jerked on the leash, drawing her forward. “Let’s see how much those fat udders weigh.”

“Nnnnmmpph!” Becca whined, but Madam Winona kept pulling, until she was fully on the scale, her hooves clacking on the metal, and Lacey closed the gate behind her, trapping her.

“My goodness! A whopping 178 pounds!”

Becca blushed as her weight was displayed for all to see. The hooves were not light, but they in no way fully accounted for her increase in mass.

“We should have weighed you before we started,” Madam Winona commented. “How much did you weigh before we turned you in a cow? One forty? One fifty?”

“Nnnnggg mmmphhmmeee,” Becca garbled behind her gag.

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll consider this your starting point. And you have so much further to go!”

“Nnnphh!” Becca cried backing up against the fence that held her on the scale.

“Yes,” Madam Winona replied, leaning over the rail, towering over the helpless cow. “Lots of fatty milk, filled with hormones to make sure those big udders of yours never run dry!”

Becca turned to Lacey, her big brown eyes beseeching the milkmaid for help. Lacey smiled, pulling out another bottle from her apron pocket. “Do you want your bottle?”

“Nnnnph!”

“Here,” Madam Winona said, handing Lacey Becca’s leash. “She’s yours.”

Hers.

A shiver of excitement ran down her spine as she wrapped the leash around her fist. She liked that. Lacey was responsible for taking care of her, yes, but having Becca be hers…

A contented smile spread across her face as she sat on a milk stool, Becca’s head in her lap, the thick nipple of the bottle jammed in her mouth, the cow girl quietly suckling away. “You’re mine, aren’t you,” she whispered while she pet Becca’s hair. “You’re my cow. My little calf.”

Madam Winona still checked in, but her visits were briefer and less frequent. Lacey took it as the disciplinarian’s tacit approval that she could handle Becca’s punishment herself, though she still did to manage to make her visits impactful, bringing more toys and implements to use on the helpless girl.

The mirror she brought to put in Becca’s stall was especially devious, ever so slightly convex so that the growing girl’s reflection made her look even wider. “She should be able to see what she’s become,” Madam Winona told them. Becca didn’t seem to even recognize the creature staring back at her from the other side of the reflective glass. Her mouth hung open as she gazed at her transformation. She wasn’t gagged, a reward for not trying to use her human words and mooing like the cow she had become, but there was a faint red imprint across her chubby cheeks left from the strap, a reminder that she could be gagged again in a second should she make the mistake of speaking. Her long brown hair and been pulled up and separated into two braids, concealing the hair band that held up her big cow ears and horns. Her own ears were partially hidden, just the lobes peaking out, so that the big tag pierced through her right ear was on display. It hung low, next to her thick black collar, from which dangled a big brass cowbell. It clanged as she turned, her big pendulous breasts continuing to sway long after the bell had grown silent. Her boobs had doubled in size, now marred with stretch marks as gravity pulled hungrily on her swollen udders, her elongated nipples almost reaching the ground. Cow print patterned sleeves covered her arms and legs, ending in heavy black hooves. The sleeves matched the thick black and white spotted diaper that Lacey had started putting her in, to make cleaning up after her easier. The diaper only drew attention to her big, wide, fat booty, complete with a hole in the back for her braided cow tail to poke through, a red ribbon tied in a nice little bow near the bottom.

“Do you know who that is?” Madam Winona asked.

Becca managed to tear her big brown eyes away from her reflection for the briefest of moments to look at her disciplinarian, but she didn’t answer.

“Very few animals recognize their own reflection. Certainly not a beast as stupid as a cow. But I’ll tell you. That’s you. That fat, dumb animal in the mirror, that’s what you are now.”

Becca’s lips trembled. It looked like she wanted to speak, to say something, but she caught a glimpse of the ballgag strap hanging out of Lacey’s apron pocket. She was an animal now, and animals didn’t speak. Lacey made sure of that. Opening her mouth again, she let out a long, low moo.

“Good girl,” Lacey praised her, petting her head. “You’re a good cow. Would you like me to milk you?”

Becca nodded, mooing again.

Lacey grabbed a milking stool and sat next to her, milking her aching tits right there in front of the mirror so she had to watch. She moaned softly over the sound of milk splashing into the bucket beneath her.

“You’ve done a good job with her,” Madam Winona commented.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Her punishment is almost over.”

Lacey froze, her hands wrapped around Becca’s nipples. Even Becca seemed to come out of her trance momentarily, turning her head to look up at Madam Winona.

“I guess I lost track of the time.” It was more than that. She’d gotten used to her new role, and if she had to go back just milking actual cows, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. “How much longer do I have her?”

“Three days.”

It was so short. It was hard to believe she’d spent so much time with her already.

“Is something the matter?” Madam Winona asked.

Lacey pulled Becca’s ballgag out of her pocket and held it in front of the girl’s mouth. Becca obediently accepted her gag, moaning as Lacey swiftly put a blindfold and noise cancelling headphones on her.

Satisfied that Becca was as oblivious to their conversation as an actual cow, Lacey turned to Madam Winona. “So, I understand she’s still a person, technically, and this is just a punishment for her, but…” she trailed off.

“But you want more?”

Lacey nodded. “Is that wrong?”

Madam Winona chuckled. “You’re giving her what she truly wants. And I’d be willing to bet that she’s giving you what you desire as well. What could be wrong with that?”

Lacey reached back and stroked Becca’s back. She loved how the girl’s whole body responded to her touch, goosebumps raising up where she touched her, the girl shifting to lean in to Lacey’s hand, the gentle moan that came from her gagged mouth.

“It’s just, after her punishment ends, things will be different. I won’t have control over her anymore.”

“Won’t you?”

The question stayed with Lacey for the next three days. Things would never go back to the way they were. They couldn’t. She’d been changed by the experience, as much so mentally and emotionally as Becca had been changed physically.

***

Madam Winona and Mr. and Mrs. Mercer were all already at the barn when Lacey got to work on the last day of Becca’s punishment. She’d got to work early, having been unable to sleep, but she wasn’t early enough. Apprehensively, the milkmaid stood outside the barn doors, listening in.

“I thought you said she was going to learn her lesson!” Mrs. Mercer was shouting, fully hysterical. “Look at her!”

“I know Mrs. Mercer—” Madam Winona tried to interject.

“You said the thing about making her smoke the whole pack, and she’d be better behaved!”

“First of all, your daughter is better behaved. And secondly, do you know how many children that are forced to smoke a whole pack of cigarettes grow up to still be smokers?”

“How many?”

There was a heavy silence. “It was a rhetorical question, Mrs. Mercer. I do not know how many. But the point is, some grow an aversion to their undesirable behavior, and some… some double down.”

Lacey eased the heavy barn door open, peeking inside through the thin crack. Becca was on her hands and knees in the center of the room, still decked out in her cow attire, her big, brown eyes wide with confusion as she stared up at her distraught parents. Madam Winona stood behind her, holding her leash.

“What do we do with her?” Mr. Mercer asked, looking to Madam Winona, not even acknowledging the animal beneath him that had been his daughter. “The man she hit is suing. You were supposed to turn her into a contributing member of society.”

“Every beast has its purpose. Do your cattle not have worth to you, Mr. Mercer?”

“They do, but what am I to do with her? I cannot sell her milk.”

“What do you do with a cow that’s no longer of use to you?” Madam Winona’s eyes flicked to the door. Lacey shrunk back, sure that the woman had seen her spying on them.

“I sell them.”

“It seems to me like you have your solution.” Again her eyes flicked to the door. This time Lacey didn’t hide, meeting her mentor’s gaze.

“We can’t sell her!” Mrs. Mercer cried.

“Who would buy her?” Mr. Mercer asked.

“Robert, you can’t be entertaining this craziness. This is our daughter we’re talking about, not some cow!”

“There is a market for people like your daughter,” Madam Winona replied. “People who would let her be her true self. People who would pay good money for an obedient hucow like her.”

“Her true self?”

“She makes a much better cow than she ever did a person. Ask her yourself.”

Mrs. Mercer looked down at her daughter. “Becca?”

Lacey pressed her face against the crack in the door, her heart pounding. Becca stared dumbly up at her mother, and then opened her mouth, letting out a long, low moo.

Becca’s answer was clear. Even her mother couldn’t argue what her daughter clearly desired.

“I still can’t sell her off to some stranger,” Mr. Mercer said. “Letting some pervert have her to do god knows what with her—”

“I’d buy her.”

Mr. and Mrs. Mercer turned, surprised to see Lacey throwing open the barn door.

“I apologize for eavesdropping, Sir and Ma’am,” Lacey said with a curtsy. “But if you’d allow it, I’d like to buy her.”

Madam Winona smiled, giving Lacey a subtle, approving nod.

“I don’t know how much you’d want for her, but I have some savings, and I’ve invested your generous bonus. I’d be willing to work off any debt if you desire more than I can afford.”

The Mercer’s stared at her in stunned silence. All except Becca, who jumped excitedly upon seeing her mistress, pulling on her leash to get to her. Madam Winona let go of the leash, allowing Becca to bound over to Lacey, nuzzling her leg, mooing happily.

“Please,” Lacey beseeched them. “I’d take good care of her.”

“Are you sure you want this?” Mr. Mercer asked.

It was unclear if the question was for the milkmaid or his daughter, but Lacey spoke for both of them when she said “Absolutely.”

“Do you have any regrets?” Madam Winona had asked her later.

“None.” Lacey replied, pulling the branding iron out of the fire. Madam Winona’s parting gift to her: her name printed in metal glowed red on the end of the pole.

Becca whined into her gag, shifting nervously in her heavy restraints.

“Easy, girl,” Lacey petted the girl, stroking her hair, running her hands down her back. “It’s going to sting for a moment, but then you’ll be mine.” The milkmaid unstrapped Becca’s cow spotted diaper and took it off, exposing the girl’s big, pale buttocks, bisected down the middle by the shiny, chrome chastity belt Lacey kept her in. Her chubby cheeks jiggled as the girl squirmed.

“Just relax,” Lacey said, her voice soft and soothing as she took the branding iron in both hands.

The ballgag did nothing to stifle Becca’s scream as the superheated iron made contact with her ass. Lacey held it there for the briefest of seconds before pulling it away and dousing it in a bucket of cold water with a loud hiss. She admired her handiwork while Becca calmed down. There it was. Her name. Her brand permanently seared into Becca’s flesh. Her symbol of ownership of her cow.

“There there. That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” she cooed while she rubbed soothing lotion into Becca’s big butt.

“Mmmmmm,” the cow girl moaned, wiggling her ass, her tail swishing back and forth.

Lacey left her diaper off, walking around her restrained pet. She kneeled down in front of her face. The milkmaid reached around Becca’s head and removed her gag, careful not to bump the new ring dangling from Becca’s freshly pierced septum as she popped the ball from between the cow girl’s luscious lips. “Who’s my good cow?”

“Moooooo!” Becca bellowed happily.

“Yes you are! Would you like your mistress to milk you?”

“Mooooooooooo!!!!” Becca cried.

Lacey wrapped her hands around Becca’s nipples. Technically, they were her nipples now. All of Becca was hers.