A university student learns that a woman can train her body to produce milk even if she’s never been pregnant. She tries and succeeds, then meets a ‘farmer’ who wants her to roleplay being his human-cow hybrid. Little did either of them realize that it would become much more than just fun and games.
How I Became a Hucow, Part 6 consists of the following chapters:
Chapter 17 – How I Became a Hucow for a Night
Chapter 18 – How We Tried and Tried Again Until We Got It Right
Chapter 19 – How I Adjusted to Being a Hucow 24/7
Chapter 17 – How I Became a Hucow for a Night
On the day of the next full moon, I was preoccupied and excited the entire day, thinking about that night. I kept having to remind myself that there was well over a 99 percent chance that nothing would happen and we’d feel foolish for spending $250 on an old cowbell. But it was that tiny fraction of a chance that something would happen that made that purchase well worth it as far as Kyle and I were both concerned.
At dinner that evening, neither Kyle nor I said much to each other. We could tell from each other’s expressions that we were both eagerly awaiting sundown, but there really wasn’t much to discuss. We couldn’t anticipate exactly how it would happen, so we just had to remain flexible and figure it out as we went along. Fortunately, it was a Friday evening, so we didn’t have to worry about being anywhere the following day, giving us time to recover from whatever would happen to me, sleep deprivation, and anything else.
I’d considered waiting until the wee hours of the morning to put on the collar, keeping my time as a hucow to a minimum in case it was a bad experience. According to the poem, the earliest I’d revert back to fully human was sunrise, if I removed the collar then or had already removed it. If I left the collar on after sunrise, I’d remain a hucow until I took it off.
But I was far too eager to wait that long. I wanted to be transformed at the earliest opportunity and stay that way at least all night. So, as the sun was setting, with great anticipation, I put the collar around my neck and Kyle buckled it like a belt. Nothing happened immediately, of course, because the sun was still visible on the horizon.
Not knowing exactly what physical changes I’d experience, Kyle had suggested that I wear little in the way of clothing, and that what I did wear be loose and easily removed. I agreed with his suggestion, and so I was wearing only loose baby doll lingerie and an old pair of bikini-cut panties that I didn’t care about.
Then we watched the sun go completely out of sight below the horizon. Still nothing, but we weren’t yet thinking it was a failure. The earth’s surface isn’t completely smooth, and so there could be a few minutes between when we could no longer see the sun and when it actually set.
And then I began feeling strange. Kyle saw my facial expression change, and he said “Talk to me, Ella. Describe what you’re experiencing for my benefit.”
I hesitated a moment as I tried to find the words for what I was feeling. “It’s weird. I can sense this feeling of peace enveloping me, like I don’t have a care in the world. The anxiety of waiting for this to start and wondering what would happen is gone.”
“Do you feel any physical changes yet?” he asked.
“Not yet, but I’m sure it won’t be long now,” I replied.
After a couple of more minutes, I said, “I think the transformation is about to begin now. Parts of my body are starting to tingle, sort of. I can’t describe it.”
“What parts?” Kyle inquired.
“My hands and feet. My boobs. My ears. The bottom of my spine. The top of my head.” And as I was still saying that, I could feel them begin to change. Kyle’s expression changed to one of astonishment as he could obviously see the changes taking place. I looked down at my hands, and I could see them being transformed into cow’s feet with cloven hooves. Same with my feet. The skin on my hands and forearms and feet and lower legs were all growing a black and white coat of whatever it is that cows have – fur, hair, I don’t know. “What are you seeing?” I asked Kyle.
“You’re growing horns out of the top of your head, and your ears are changing into cow ears – black and white and floppy,” he said. “Your boobs are growing larger, too.”
“Please bring me a mirror, Master,” I said to him. I don’t know why I called him that; it just came out as if it were the most natural thing to do. “I don’t think I want to walk on these hooves while they’re still transforming.” Kyle got up to find a mirror, and while I waited, I felt the various body parts that were in the process of transforming. I couldn’t use my front hooves for that, but I could still feel with my arms, or front legs, or whatever they were now. I was growing a tail, too. So far, I still had only two boobs, but they were rapidly both growing and filling with milk. I mooed contentedly, again without even thinking about it. But I don’t mean I said the word ‘moo’; I actually made the sound a cow makes.
Upon hearing that, Master rushed back to check on me. “You okay, Ella?” he asked, concerned.
“Yes, Master; I’ve never been better, thank you,” I replied with a smile. “But please call me Ellie Moo. I’m not Ella anymore.”
“Why are you calling me ‘Master’ all of a sudden?” he asked.
“What else would I call you, Master?” I asked demurely. “Anything else would seem… disrespectful, I suppose. After all, I am your property.” I’d never thought of myself that way before, but now, of course he owned me. It was the natural order of things. He was the human, and I was just his hucow.
Master looked like he didn’t know what to think about that, but he left again to search for a mirror. A few minutes later he returned with one. He held it up and I admired my new horns and ears, which were still growing. I was very pleased with how I looked. I truly felt like this is how I always should have looked; that I was never meant to be completely human.
Master saw me admiring myself and the expression on my face. “You look very beautiful that way, Ellie Moo,” he said to me, and his eyes also indicated his approval.
“Thank you, Master,” I replied. “I think so, too.”
My udders continued to grow to the point where the babydoll lingerie couldn’t cover them anymore; it rode up and rested uselessly on top of them. I had Master remove it completely so I could get a better look. They were the size and shape of medium-sized watermelons and they continued to grow. What were once my nipples were turning into elongated teats, about an inch [2.5 cm] long and still growing as well. I felt the sides of my udders with my front legs and could actually feel them harden as they filled with milk.
“I’m going to need to be milked before too long, Master,” I told him, despite having pumped myself dry not long before sunset. “I can’t do it myself with these hooves, and my udders are too big and full to for me to push them up to where I could reach my own teats with my mouth. I don’t think Ella’s human breast pumps are going to be adequate, either.” Neither of us had considered that possibility and we weren’t exactly prepared for it. Also, I noticed that I spoke of Ella as if she were someone else.
After maybe twenty minutes or so, I felt like the transformations were complete. My udders were now the size of large watermelons and rested in my lap. They were quite hard now and beginning to become uncomfortable from being so full.
“I think maybe I should go to the barn now and get milked,” I told Master. “I might need some help walking until I get used to these rear hooves.”
He took me by my front hoof and helped me up from the sofa. I was now almost as tall as he was, as I was essentially standing on my toes, and what were once my feet now added to my height. I took a tentative step forward as Master held my hand. It was easy and natural, however. I took another step, and another, and I realized I didn’t need any assistance to walk. Still, I let him lead me to the converted bedroom that we called ‘the barn’.
“How do you want to do this, Ellie Moo?” Master asked me. I was as new to this as he was, but I rather instinctively knew how to respond.
“We’re going to need a couple of buckets,” I replied, “and you’re going to have to milk me by hand by pulling on my teats, just like you were milking a cow. It won’t work with me on my front hooves and knees, though, because my udders are too big for that now. I think I’m going to prop myself up with my elbows on top of the half wall, with my udders hanging down in front of it. You’ll be on the other side of the half wall with the buckets on the floor, and your job will be to pull on my teats and aim the stream toward the buckets.”
Master went away to find some buckets, and a short time returned with one he used to wash our cars and another one we used for mopping the kitchen floor. “These aren’t sanitized,” he said. “I can do that now if you want.”
“I don’t think we have time, Master,” I replied, as my udders were becoming painfully full. “Besides, we don’t know if my milk is safe for baby humans. We’ll just have to do it with the buckets the way they are. We’ll be better prepared next time,” I said. I noticed that I said ‘humans’ as if I weren’t one myself. I knew deep down that I wasn’t, not completely any more.
My teats were about two inches [5 cm] long now, and proportionally thick. Master pinched each one between his thumb and fingers and started yanking on them first one, then the other, back and forth. “Master, please stop,” I told him. “You’re not doing it right. Haven’t you ever milked a cow before?”
“I vaguely recall doing it when I was a boy, at a petting farm or somewhere, but I’ve forgotten exactly how,” he replied.
“Don’t use your thumbs,” I told him. That just pinches the teats shut. Instead, curl your other fingers around them so you have a gentle grip, and then pull down on them, gently at first, and then once the flow starts, you can increase the intensity.”
Master tried it the way I explained and quickly got into a rhythm, and the results were much better. “That feels so good, Master,” I told him, as the pressure in my udders lessened somewhat. But for all the effort he was going to, and all the milk he was getting from me, it didn’t feel like my udders were emptying nearly as fast. I realized they were filling back up with milk almost as fast as he was draining them.
This went on for quite a while, until the smaller of the two buckets was nearly full. “I’m going to have to stop and empty the buckets, Ellie Moo,” he told me. “Besides, my hands need a break. I never realized that milking is hard work!”
“Please don’t stop yet, Master,” I pleaded. “They’re not nearly empty enough.”
“What should I do, then?” he asked. “The one bucket’s going to overflow soon.”
“Suckle on one of them while you keep milking the other one into the larger bucket.”
“But I’d have to swallow the milk. You said you didn’t know if it was safe to drink.”
“I said I didn’t know if it were safe for baby humans. The tiniest ones who need human milk can’t tolerate cow’s milk, and I don’t know how much of each mine is. But adult humans like you, the ones who aren’t lactose intolerant at least, can drink both human milk and cow’s milk, so it shouldn’t matter.”
Master bent down to take my teat into his mouth as he continued pulling on the other one. But he was only sucking. “You need to suckle, not just suck,” I explained. “That means caressing it with your tongue and gently squeezing it and pulling it with your lips as you suck.”
Master caught on very quickly, and it felt way more amazing than just pulling on it with his fingers. “That’s it,” I exclaimed. “You’re doing it perfectly now. Oh, it’s really turning me on! I feel so horny now!” I began to moo erotically, kind of like the way a human female moans. I didn’t know if Master could distinguish between an erotic moo and a regular moo of contentment, though.
“Master, if I may impose on you a bit more… Please take your free hand and put it in my panties and finger me.”
“I’d love to, Ellie Moo, but I can’t reach back there and keep doing the rest. The wall is in the way.” Damn. I didn’t think of that, and he was absolutely right. How I wished I could climax, but I couldn’t think of a way to do it. Damn these front hooves! I loved having cow parts, but I so wished I had my hands back.
“When the second bucket fills up, I want you to stop milking me and come around behind me and breed your hucow hard, Master.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice!” he exclaimed. “It won’t be long now.”
A few minutes later, Master said, “Second one’s full now,” and he stopped and took both buckets to the kitchen sink and emptied them out. In just the few minutes it took him to do that, I could feel my udders filling back up again. Still, I needed dick more than I needed them drained. He put the empty buckets under my udders, and came around behind me, got on his knees, practically ripped my panties off, mounted me, quickly found my very wet pussy with his hard dick, and began thrusting. As he did, my cowbell started clanging to the rhythm of his thrusts.
“That’s it, Master. Breed me, Master! Fill me up with your hot cum! Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh! Moooooo!! Moooooo!! MOOOOOOOO!!!” I exclaimed as I felt him doing just as I requested. Again, I wasn’t saying ‘moo’; I was actually mooing. I looked down at my front hooves and my watermelon-sized udders and huge teats as I rode out the best orgasm of my life. A hucow has two purposes in life: to make lots of milk and to be a cum dumpster for her master. I’d just now fulfilled both.
All of this continued throughout the night – milking and f**king, milking and f**king, time after time. Master complained that his fingers and hands were really getting sore and his balls were running out of cum. But my teats and pussy were totally up for all of the attention they were getting, so I repeated told him how much I appreciated him taking care of me so well and encouraged him to continue.
Eventually, I noticed that it was beginning to get light outside. Dawn was breaking, and sunrise wasn’t too far behind it. Knowing how worn out Master was, out of compassion for him I suggested that he take my collar off so that I would revert back to being fully human again as the sun peeked from behind the horizon. No way could I take it off myself with hooves instead of hands, and if he didn’t take it off, I’d remain a hucow until such time as he did, assuming it was before the next full moon a month from now.
Master was exhausted and badly needed a break, so he went ahead and removed the collar and cowbell. Nothing happened right away, because the sun hadn’t yet risen. I was still full of milk and extremely horny. But Master could no longer keep his dick erect, he could no longer pull my teats hard enough or fast enough to keep up, and he couldn’t drink another drop of milk. So my udders became painfully full and my pussy craved more cum even though it was already so full of the sticky goo that it steadily dribbled out on its own.
And then I realized the sun must have risen, because I could feel my udders and teats becoming less full and shrinking in size. I could see my front hooves changing back to hands again, and all of my cow parts had a strange tingling sensation as they shrunk and either disappeared or transformed back into equivalent human parts.
Meanwhile, Master had fallen asleep right on the floor of the barn from sheer exhaustion, and I quickly sensed that I was doing the same, still leaning on the half wall with my boobs hanging down in front of it.
Many hours later, Kyle and I began to awake at about the same time. I could hear him starting to stir as I gradually returned to consciousness myself. I was stiff and sore from sleeping in a convoluted position hanging over the half wall, not to mention all of the wild action from the night before. I lifted my boobs up over the wall and moved to a sitting position leaning against the wall.
I knew that I was back to being Ella the human again, but I was deeply happy that I’d been able to experience being a true hucow for a night, and even happier still, knowing that I could do this all over again in another month.
Kyle called out to me, “Ella, are you okay?” not knowing how I’d fared from the process of reverting back to being fully human.
“Yeah, I’m great,” I replied sleepily. “That was amazing,” I told him. “It was beyond words.”
Kyle crawled over to me, sat next to me, leaning against the wall, and embraced and kissed me. “You were an animal,” he said, smiling, with the double meaning fully intended. “I couldn’t keep up with you.
“The cowbell actually worked!” he remarked in disbelief despite our shared experience, and he began chuckling. “That’s by far the best $250 I’ve ever spent in my life!” he said as his chuckles changed to laughter. I joined him, and neither of us could stop laughing from the sheer craziness of at all.
“You’ve got to tell me what it was like from your perspective,” Kyle said. “Not just how it felt physically, but also what was going through your head mentally and emotionally. For example, why did you feel the need to call me ‘Master’?”
I tried as best as I could to describe the experience to him as we cuddled naked on the barn floor. I went on for some time about it. Then I added, “I just felt like I was always meant to be a hucow, and now that I was one, I felt entirely at peace about it. I loved everything about it and never wanted to go back to being human again. And as a hucow, it was my destiny to be owned by a human master.”
“Why did you remind me to remove the collar as it started getting light, then?” he asked.
“I suppose because I felt sorry for you and wanted to give you a break. I knew I completely wore you out, but I could have continued indefinitely. I guess I also wanted to return to normal to be able to think through this more objectively. Besides, I couldn’t remove the collar myself since I no longer had hands.”
“How did you feel about your hands also turning into hooves?” Kyle asked. “Whenever we’ve roleplayed, you’ve always kept your hands regardless of whatever other parts of you transformed.”
“I know, and so I was surprised when it happened. I had mixed feelings about it. It was frustrating that I couldn’t milk myself or finger myself or remove my own collar, but it was also oddly satisfying knowing that it made me that much more dependent on you.”
“Would you do it again?” he asked me.
“In a heartbeat!” I replied. “I can’t wait to do it again next month!”
“Is there anything you’d want to do differently?”
“Yeah. Several things. We need a better way to deal with the prodigious quantities of milk. There’s no way my breast pumps could have kept up with that, and you could barely do so milking me by hand all night. We may need to get a commercial milking machine or something, like they use on real cows. That would also solve the problems of repeatedly having to empty the buckets, you not being able to milk me and breed me at the same time, and wearing you out so badly from having to milk me so much.
“Also, we need to save some of the milk next time so that I can get it tested. I need to know if it’s safe to donate to the milk bank. It was a shame to have to pour all of that down the drain.”
“Do you still feel like you were always meant to be a hucow?”
“Not as much as I did when I was one, bur more than I did before I put on the collar.”
Kyle didn’t react to my response to his last question, but I knew he heard it clearly. I wondered what was going through his mind.
Chapter 18 – How We Tried and Tried Again Until We Got It Right
Over the course of the next month, I constantly thought about my experience as a hucow and couldn’t wait to do it again. Kyle and I both noticed that sex didn’t seem nearly as much fun with me in human form any more, which made us both all the more eager for me to be transformed again.
As the next full moon drew closer, my desire to be a hucow again grew increasingly stronger. There was nothing in my human life that felt anywhere near as fulfilling as being milked and bred by my master all night. I repeatedly checked on the collar and cowbell to make sure they were still there. I took them out of their box and held them as I recalled the night of the last full moon.
That month, the full moon was on a Saturday night, so we agreed we’d ditch church that week so we had the following day free to sleep and recover. As evening approached, I got ready, again slipping into a babydoll and panties, and putting on the collar and cowbell. This time, though, Kyle had stuffed the cowbell with paper towels so that it wouldn’t clang.
I asked him about that, and he replied, “Our next door neighbor complained to me about hearing the cowbell all night last time. He requested less cowbell,” Kyle chuckled, and although it took me a second, I did, too. He was obviously thinking of the classic ‘more cowbell’ skit from Saturday Night Live as he said that.
Again, once the sun set, I was first filled with a sensation of utter peace and contentment, and then began feeling the tingling sensation in the areas of my body that would be transformed. But this time it was a bit different. I wasn’t feeling the tingling in all of the same places as before, and I was feeling it in some new places.
Before long, my transformations began, and it became obvious that they’d be different than last time. Most significantly, I was growing an actual cow udder with four teats on my lower abdomen, between my waist and pussy. My feet were again changing into rear hooves, and I was growing a tail, but my legs were getting noticeably shorter and all of my legs and ass were becoming fur covered. My human boobs were actually shrinking, and it looked like I was going to keep my hands this time around. I was again growing horns and cow ears, but I felt my nose growing larger and more squared off, and my nostrils were becoming larger and more widely spaced.
I reached down to feel my cow udder and four teats. They felt completely foreign and completely right at the same time, and I could tell they were rapidly filling with milk.
Master and I made eye contact, and I said to him, “It looks like it’s going to be different this time. I hope you don’t mind a cow udder instead of human boobs.”
“I’ll only be able to milk two of your teats at a time,” he replied.
“Not to worry, Master. I got to keep my hands this time, so I should be able to milk the other two. Also, you ought to be able to milk me and breed me at the same time this way, I think.” I mooed.
“What was that for?” Master asked. “The moo, I mean.”
“I don’t know, Master. There wasn’t any particular reason for it. It just felt right to make that sound. Let’s go to the barn, shall we?”
When I stood, I was probably only about four feet tall, with my entire legs now about as short as just my human thighs were. I wondered about the reason for this change, and what it had to do being a hucow. But when I got to the barn and got down on all fours, I understood. There would be no kneeling this time. My shortened hind legs meant they could remain straight while I was down on my hands.
However, I needed my hands to milk my front teats while Master milked the back ones, so I couldn’t support my upper body with them. Master brought me a kitchen chair and a pillow for me to rest my head on while we both milked me. He’s such a kind, thoughtful master, and I’m so glad I’m his.
Being milked that way was very arousing for me, and I began grinding my ass against Master’s groin as he milked me from behind. Master took the hint and bred me while at the same time we jointly continued to manually milk my four teats. I mooed in ecstasy as he brought me to climax time after time. I really liked being milked and bred at the same time.
Every month on the night of the full moon, I’d put on the collar and cowbell and be transformed into a hucow. Which body parts were actually transformed continued to vary, except that I always grew horns and a tail. Otherwise, there was no apparent rhyme or reason to it.
One time I was made into what I’ll call a cowtaur, which was a complete but scaled down cow body excluding the head and neck, with my human body from the waist up attached to it. Master wouldn’t breed me when I was in that form, so that was disappointing for both of us. He said I was too much cow and not enough human for him to be able to get aroused. Another time I had an entire cow head on top of my mostly human body, which took away my ability to speak.
After many months of this, the combination we both liked the most was the first one, but we wondered if we’d ever see that one again. We were also each becoming increasingly comfortable with the idea of permanently transforming me if we got another combination we both really liked. Fortunately, if neither of us removed the collar, we’d be able to test drive my being a full-time hucow for up to a month before we had to decide whether to make it permanent.
Then one month, we ended up with a combination that we both liked even more than the first one. It was similar to that one, except that my hands remained mostly human and I had four huge human-like boobs instead of only two. So, from top to bottom, I deviated from normal human anatomy due to cow horns protruding from my head, cow ears instead of human ears, four watermelon-sized human boobs with nipples that were long and thick like teats, fingernails with the same color and texture as hooves, the obligatory tail, and, below my knees, cow legs and hooves in place of human legs and feet. I had black and white cow fur on the backs of my ears, my tail, and my lower legs.
As morning drew near, without warning, Master grabbed my hands and cuffed them behind my back. I assumed he wanted to engage in bondage play, or perhaps wanted to punish me for doing something naughty. “Master, why did you put me in handcuffs?” I asked innocently. “Did you just want to play, or have I displeased you?”
Master replied, “Neither, Ellie Moo. I really like you in this particular form, and so I’ve decided to make it permanent. I can’t have you disregarding my wishes and deciding to remove the collar and cowbell before the next full moon. It may be a long time before a combination I like this much comes along again, so the handcuffs are simply to keep you from being naughty.”
A tiny part of me was upset that Master had done this without first seeking my input and obtaining my approval. But I suppressed those thoughts; that was a human way of thinking. Even as Ella, I was more enlightened than that. Ella might’ve made an issue of it, but she would’ve been secretly eager and even aroused at the prospect of being a permanent hucow, especially with Master not giving her a choice about it.
As Ellie Moo, I was elated that I’d been such a good cow and pleased Master so much that he’d chosen to make me his permanent hucow, and I also really liked this particular combination of transformations. I could think of nothing I’d ever wanted more, both because he wanted it and I wanted to please him, and also because I longed to be this way permanently. Besides, it’s not a hucow’s place to question or second-guess her master; she knows she is his to do with her as he pleases.
“Yes, Master; I understand,” I replied. “I’ll wear the handcuffs and be a good hucow for the next month.”
“Almost right, Ellie Moo,” Master responded. “You’ll be restrained for the next month, but I won’t keep you in handcuffs the entire time. I’ll switch your restraints periodically. However, you’ll get to be a hucow, hopefully a compliant, obedient hucow, for the rest of your life.”
“Thank you, Master! You’re always so good to me!” I replied, and I genuinely meant it.
Then I thought more about the implications of this. “Master? What are you going to tell my human family about me?” I asked him.
“I think you should be the one to tell them, Ellie Moo,” he replied. “I know you’ll be able to come up with something that’ll convince them how much you want to be this way.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but Master knows what’s best, so I knew I had to trust him. “I’ll do my best, Master,” I replied, trying hard not to be anxious about it.
“What about my job, Master?” I asked.
“Obviously, you can’t go to work as a hucow or while handcuffed, Ellie Moo. You’ll have to quit your job effective immediately, I’m afraid.”
“Yes, Master; of course,” I replied. “Will you let them know I won’t be back, or would you prefer that I do that as well?”
“You’ll need to do that, too, but I’ll go to your workplace to pick up any personal items you may have left there.”
“I guess I won’t be able to go to church any more, either,” I said to Master.
“Not like that you can’t,” he replied. “I don’t think walking into church with real horns and a real tail and real cloven hooves would go over well at all. They kind of have a problem with beings with those features, if I recall correctly,” he said, smiling.
Chapter 19 – How I Adjusted to Being a Hucow 24/7
Later that morning, I called my boss Whitney to give her the news. “I feel terrible I have to do this and leave you in a bind, but I have no choice,” I told her. “I’m afraid I have to resign from my position effective immediately.”
Whitney was completely blindsided by this of course, and tried to get me to tell her why I felt I had to do this. Obviously, I couldn’t tell her the real story, so I had to keep it very vague and tell her that I had to leave for personal reasons. “It’s nothing against you or the center or my job duties or anything like that, I assure you. I love my job, and it breaks my heart I have to give it up.”
Whitney tried to talk me into taking a leave of absence instead, so that when my personal situation improved I could come back to my job. I had to tell her, “I appreciate your willingness to work with me; I really do, but I just don’t see my circumstances ever changing where I could ever come back and work again. It’s best for everyone if I just make a clean break, so that you can hire my replacement as quickly as possible and not be shorthanded any longer than necessary.”
“Two questions, then, Ella”, said Whitney. “First, will you continue to donate your milk here, or is that ending, too? Second, will you be coming by to get the personal items that you left here?”
“I won’t be able to come to the center for the foreseeable future, but yes, I fully intend to continue to donate my milk,” I replied. “My husband will have to drop it off for me, and I’ll have him pick up my stuff, too, the first time he does that. If you or someone would gather my personal items and put them in a box or something, I’d very much appreciate it. My husband will have no idea what’s mine, what’s someone else’s, and what belongs to the center.”
Whitney agreed to do that, and we ended the call. I cried for a long time after that; I loved my job and got a lot of satisfaction out of it. But as much as I did, I loved being a real hucow far more, and I knew I couldn’t do both.
My past hucow experiences were just overnight or maybe a little longer, once a month. But now that I was a hucow 24/7 and had four boobs, I was suddenly producing substantially more milk than I ever had. That meant Master had to come home for lunch every day so that he could hook me up to the milking machine, since I couldn’t use my hands due to the restraints.
It turned out that Master had a lot more ways to restrain my hands that I realized. He’d anticipated having to keep my hands unable to reach my collar for a month, and had secretly acquired various devices to do that. Every morning, he’d briefly free my hands and then put them into a different restraint. These included chains and shackles to secure them to my waist, a spreader bar, and various yokes that kept my hands away from my body. Fortunately the yoke collars didn’t interfere with the cowbell collar.
The next day while Master was at the university, I got to thinking about what he’d said about how they’d react to me if I went to church as a hucow. That they’d see the horns and tail and cloven hooves and think I was a demon or something. Church had always been a big part of my life, and the prospect of never being able to return felt like a crushing blow. I wept bitterly about that.
I didn’t feel like a demon, or that I was under any kind of demonic control. I still loved God with all my heart. I didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t go to church to worship Him, except that I’d be judged and rejected by the other people there.
Master came home and saw that I’d been crying and asked me what was wrong. I filled him in on what had been going through my mind. He replied, “You can’t go to church during this first month while you’re in restraints. But you’re right; the only reason why it would be a problem after that is because of the way people would react to you. I don’t want to have to stop going to church, either, and I wouldn’t want to have to go without you when I knew you wanted to be there and couldn’t.
“After this month is over, I think maybe we need to find a new church to attend – one that accepts misfits and weirdos without reservation, because we certainly fit that category now. There has to be something like that out there where we can feel comfortable and be accepted unconditionally. Let me do some digging and I’ll see if I can find one that might work for us.” I felt much better after that and trusted Master to find a church like that for us.
After a couple of days, I said to Master, “I haven’t had a shower since before the full moon. I’m feeling pretty gross. I know I can’t take the collar or restraints off, and I can’t fully undress with the restraints on, so what do you suggest I do?”
Master thought about it for a moment and replied, “I think it would be a bad idea to get that leather collar wet. How about a tub bath and we wash your hair in the sink?” I was agreeable to that.
Master wanted to bathe me himself, so he removed the restraint I was wearing long enough for me to strip, and then put me into a yolk that kept my upper arms horizontal and my forearms vertical, with my elbows bent 90 degrees. He wrapped the leather collar in plastic as he washed my hair in the kitchen sink and then moved me to the tub, which he’d filled with warm water, where he bathed the rest of me.
He was so gentle and loving as he did all of that; he acted as if it were a high honor for him to be able to care for me in that way. I don’t think I’d ever felt so loved as he did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. I just kept loving this man more and more every day, and I was so grateful to have him as my owner and caretaker.
Master always cooked a lot more than I did because he was better at it and he enjoyed doing it. With my hands in restraints, he had to do all of the cooking. A few days after being transformed, the most disgusting smell permeated our apartment as he was cooking our dinner. Master acted like nothing was wrong, though.
“Master, what is that awful stench? What on earth are you cooking in there?” I asked him.
“What are you talking about, Ellie Moo?” he asked. “There’s no stench. It smells delicious, in fact.”
“I feel like I could barf, it smells so bad. It smells like, I don’t know, death or something. What is it?”
“I’m just frying up some beef tips with onions and mushrooms,” he said. “There’s rice and veggies boiling as well.” Then a moment later, he said, “I think I know the problem. This is the first time I’ve made beef since you transformed. I bet you can’t eat it any more, now that you’re part cow.”
I hadn’t even considered that, but it made perfect sense. I’d had no problem eating pork or chicken or fish. “I think that has to be it, Master. Now that I think about it, even the idea of eating a hamburger or a steak sounds revolting. I would feel like a cannibal doing that.”
“I hope you can endure the smell tonight,” Master said to me. “It’s already filled the apartment, so I might as well finish cooking it and not let it go to waste. There’s a leftover pork chop I can heat up for you instead, if you have any appetite left.”
Despite the stench of the beef, I was nevertheless hungry, and asked Master to please go ahead and do that. With all of the milk I was producing now, it seemed I couldn’t get enough to eat and drink. But from then on, anything made from beef was off the menu in our home. Master still very much enjoyed beef, but he was considerate enough to only have it when we weren’t together.
Master had to make much more frequent trips to deliver my milk to the drop-off center, because our freezer could only hold so much. After only a few times, they quickly realized that he wasn’t clearing out the inventory in our freezer; he was bringing them six gallons [22.7 liters] of new milk per day. Of course, they knew he was my husband and that I’d quit abruptly, so they were naturally curious about what was going on with me and asked him about it.
Master knew he couldn’t tell them the entire story, but he did confirm that part of the reason I’d quit was because I was producing so much more milk now. There was no way to deny that. They were even more curious about how that could have even happened – how I suddenly went from producing a half gallon [1.9 liters] per day to six gallons per day, and how six gallons per day was even humanly possible. The only thing that Master would tell them was that it ‘just did’ happen.
Not satisfied by his non-answers, my former boss Whitney called me. She asked me if I was doing okay and told me how sad everyone was when I left without even saying goodbye. I told her I was doing just fine and that I appreciated everyone’s sentiments and wished I could’ve said goodbye before leaving. Whitney asked if she could come by and see me, or meet me somewhere, and of course I had to decline all of her suggestions.
Then Whitney revealed the real reason for her call. “Ella, I’m very worried about you. I haven’t figured out what’s going on, but my ‘spidey senses’ are tingling. Your quitting without notice and not even coming back to the center one last time, your refusal to see me now, Kyle now bringing your milk to the center – all of that is telling me that you’re either having a serious medical issue or you’re in a dangerous abusive situation.
“But the six gallons of milk per day that he’s bringing and claiming is all yours – we know he’s lying to us, because that’s just not even possible. We’ve had to throw it all out, because as you know, we can’t use milk from unverified sources. We have to assume it’s being provided by women who haven’t been screened or trained in proper handling procedures.
“So, I need you to be completely honest with me and give me a logical and verifiable explanation for all of this, or we’re going to have to refuse all of this milk your husband’s bringing to the center. If it’s safe and healthy breast milk, it’d be a real shame to have to do that.”
“Whitney, you’d be amazed at the things you thought not possible that really are,” I replied. “I certainly am. I’ve gone through a sudden and significant physical transformation. That’s all I can say about it. Because of that, I can no longer be seen in public, and I’m now really producing six gallons a day. All of that milk is mine, I promise you.”
“Ella, telling me that doesn’t change anything,” Whitney told me. “You make it sound like you turned into a real hucow or something. It’s not the least bit believable, and I’m really surprised you would try to tell me such a ridiculous lie. I really thought you were a better person than that.”
Those words really stung, I won’t deny it. Whitney and I had become trusted co-workers and good friends, and she clearly felt betrayed by this. I didn’t know what to do. Even if I could let her see me as a hucow, I certainly couldn’t let her see me in restraints. But it would crush my spirit if she wouldn’t accept my milk and I had to pour it all down the drain.
“Whitney, please don’t throw any more of my milk away,” I urged her. “Just set it aside for now if you have to. I want to prove to you that what I said is true, but I have to discuss it with Ma… with my husband first. I’ll call you back tomorrow and let you know. Okay?”
That evening I told Master about the call from Whitney. Then I said to him, “I think we should let her come here and see me this way. That’s the only way she’s going to keep letting me donate my milk, and I trust her to keep it secret. But if she sees me with my hands in restraints like this, she’s going to jump to all kinds of wrong conclusions.”
“If I remove your restraints, how can I know that you won’t be a naughty cow and remove your collar?” Master asked me.
“I was thinking we should have her come over when you can be home with me. That way you can see for yourself that I can be good, and you can stop me from being naughty if I do try anything.” Master was agreeable and so the next day I got back to Whitney and we worked out a time for her to come to my home in the evening when he would be there. I stressed the need for her to keep what she was going to see a secret between us, and she assured me she would.
That evening, Master answered the door when Whitney arrived, and I was seated in the living room. I’d wrapped a bedsheet around my body to cover my udders, since I didn’t have any tops that would remotely fit. Besides the sheet, I also wore a short skirt, which left my hooves and fur-covered lower legs and the bottom of my tail completely visible. When Whitney came in, I stood to greet her.
“Holy shit, Ella!” she exclaimed as she saw all of my cow parts and my obviously enormous chest. “What happened to you?! Those cow hooves look real! They’re too small to fit your feet into.”
“Let’s sit down, and I’ll explain it to you,” I suggested. All three of us took seats, with Master sitting next to me and Whitney facing me.
“Yes, all of this is real, Whitney,” I said. “I’ve become a real hucow, and all of these cow parts are part of my body. Come and see for yourself that they’re not accessories; they’re actually connected to me. You can feel that my ears and tail are warm to the touch and you can see that I can move them without using my hands. Underneath this sheet, I now have four boobs the size of watermelons, and they’re each producing a gallon and a half [5.7 liters] of milk every day.”
Whitney came over and examined my cow parts, and asked me to show her I had four huge boobs without removing the sheet, which I did. “How is this even possible, Ella?” she asked.
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” I suggested. “Just accept that it is. I’ve been transforming to a hucow one night a month for a good number of months now. Each of those nights I produced significantly more milk than usual. If you go back and look at my donation records, you’ll see that once a month I donated quite a bit more than usual.
“The first time this happened, I discarded all of the milk I’d expressed while I was a hucow. The second time, though, I saved it and had it thoroughly tested. I was concerned that I might be producing cow’s milk, or some blend of cow and human milk. But the test results came back saying it was perfectly normal human milk. So ever since then, I’ve been donating the milk from when I was a hucow just like any other time.
“The night before my sudden resignation, I unexpectedly began the process to make the transformation permanent, so this is the way I’m going to be from now on. You can understand why I couldn’t just show up to work like usual that morning.
“I have no concerns about the quality of the six gallons per day I’m now putting out, but if you want to get it tested yourself, by all means do so. It would just crush me if I had to start pouring all this down the drain, so I beg you to not reject it without testing it first.”
Whitney replied, “I don’t even know what to say, Ella. I still can’t believe what I’m seeing with my own eyes. Remember that time I told you you were a hardcore hucow compared to me? I didn’t have a clue what hardcore really was. This is hardcore!
“I will have your recent milk tested, just to be safe, but based on what you’ve told me, I agree there’s a good chance there won’t be any issues identified. Assuming that’s the case, you’re welcome to continue to donate your milk. In the meantime, continue to do so, and we’ll save it until we get the test results back.
“If you’re dealing with six gallons a day, I’m sure you’re going crazy dealing with those small storage bags we provide. I’ll look into getting you some larger ones that still meet our requirements.”