Story: Atonement - Chapter One

Synopsis: Morgan is sent to the Farm to atone for her crimes.

Tags: MC, FD, FF, SF, Lactation, Hucows, Breast Expansion

Atonement

Chapter One

She felt the passage of time as a vague concept, her mind a buzz of pleasure. Her mouth worked mechanically, sucking by rote. Something creamy passed her lips, sliding down her throat and coating it with a sweet aftertaste.

She stared ahead dully, blinking as her eyes took in her limited surroundings. She was staring at the floor, tiled in an unremarkable gray. She was bent over, resting calmly against a piece of molded plastic. The plastic pressed against her stomach, supporting her chest while allowing her breasts to pass through cutouts.

Her arms were pointed straight down, secured in plastic tunnels. She could flex her hands around grips, but tugging with her arms did nothing. That was okay, there was no point in moving. Not when she felt so spacey.

She tongued the gag in her mouth, gnawing at the inflated rubber bulb which was lodged behind her front teeth. It was a globe, filling her mouth comfortably. Her tongue swirled around the back of the globe, getting caught in a large tube that had been bored through the gag.

The gag was attached to a mask. She was wearing a mask. She giggled to herself, staring straight ahead as if this was a normal occurrence. She just now realized that the mask was strapped to her head, pulled taut against her face to cover her nose and lips.

Why should being masked bother her? She felt great.

Time passed as she sucked on the inflated rubber ball. She blinked, amused to find that her legs were secured as well, her ankles locked onto the platform she had been bound to.

She shifted her weight back and forth out of idle curiosity, noting that something large and heavy was lodged in her privates. Something was strapped around her waist as well, pressed against her pubic area.

She pressed her hips into the molded plastic, confirming that the harness she wore had been plugged into her vagina, a rock hard cock lodged deep inside. Her thighs flexed, welcoming the protuberance as it pulsed for her.

The pleasure she experienced from this was muted, as if she wasn't directly experiencing reality. This could all be a dream, random neurons in her brain firing to bring her this fantasy. Where else would one normally experience being bound and filled with thick dildos?

Legs walked by her bed, lithe and green. Neon green, as if lit from within by electric lights. The legs were clad in ankle boots with platform heels, a slight arch lifting the heel a few inches off the ground. The boots themselves were made of patent leather, looking polished and exotic.

The legs stopped in front of her, and she caught a glimpse of black rubber. The unknown person leaned over, showing off a generous bust sealed into a skin tight rubber bodysuit.

Something soft was attached to her head, tucked around her ears. A beat pulsed in her head, faint but growing louder. The rhythmic tone scattered her thoughts, forcing her to live in the now. She shifted her shoulders, making a low gurgling in her mask.

The whirr of a pump sounded, momentarily louder than that of the enforced rhythm in her head, but it was quickly drowned out by the consuming beat. The beats lengthened, strengthening as they wormed their way inside her.

The liquid began to rush through the gag faster, coolness gurgling in the back of her mouth. The pressure built up sufficiently so that she was forced to swallow. The sweet creaminess lit up her brain with joy. She sucked on the gag, the fluid being pumped into her with the same rhythm as that being taught to her by the beat.

There were additional undertones and overtones playing along with the beat, but her buzzed mind couldn't process them consciously. The tones found fertile ground in her subconscious, programming her as she sucked.

The strange woman, with her neon green arms, brought over a device with dual dome-like cups, the interior of the cups as large as small cantaloupes. Its use quickly became clear as she pressed one of the domes up against her left breast. It attached with a pop, sealing over her flesh with rapid suction. The second dome was applied, giving her a matching pair.

The green hands stroked along her shoulder blades, the warm touch strangely soothing. There came a sharp pinch on her shoulder, a thin throb of pain and a strange discomfort. The process was repeated three more times, twice on each shoulder in total.

"Looks like high production today. You’re tolerating the injections much better than the others. At this rate, you will easily surpass the projected induction rate. Good cow."

The warm fingers returned, petting her on the head. "You might even be the fastest conversion we've seen. If this keeps up, we might consider bringing you to the next level of treatment sooner than anticipated."

Was that what she was? A cow? What could that be? She tingled with pleasure at being complimented. Whatever a cow was, she wanted to be the best one she could be.

The suction domes pulsed on her body, alternating sides as they yanked on her swollen teats. The process was painful at first, but as she became acclimated, the pain settled into a dull ache. It was even a bit pleasurable.

As the vacuum continued, she could feel something within her breasts relax, settling into the pressure and letting go. Her teats were wet, milk expressing from their tips. The suction pulled the liquid away as soon as it appeared, tugging, sucking, extracting her milk with inexorable force.

The squeezing was rough, but enjoyable. Her breasts became less swollen as the milk was extracted, providing her a form of relief. Just as she thought it couldn't get any better, the dildos embedded in her vagina and ass began to vibrate, jiggling as they bounced up and down irregularly.

Her breathing came rough, the extra unexpected stimulation hitting her like a ton of bricks. Her thighs seized up, squeezing against the intruders. She pressed her toes against the floor in a futile attempt at freedom so that she could writhe in pleasure.

She squirmed, sucking down the sweet liquid in her mouth to calm her nerves, allowing the hissing noise in her ears to guide her actions. Her chest wobbled, throbbing as her milk flowed freely.

Her mind wandered, following the beat as she sailed along in the sea of pleasure washing from her nipples to her thighs and back again. She was synchronized, her entire body running to the beat, her heart pulsing along in sympathetic rhythm.

Her bondage faded away as unimportant in the face of such stimulation. She was being milked. She was a good cow. That was all that mattered.

She hadn't thought about anything for so long that these truths lit up like bright lights in her brain. The thoughts felt foreign, as if they had just recently became her reality.

The sounds hissed in her ear, teaching and reinforcing her good behavior. As she thought the good thoughts over and over, they implanted themselves into her mind.

Soon, they were familiar truths, imprinting themselves as a mantra she kept repeating to herself. She was a cow. She was being milked. This was as it should be.

Sooner than she had anticipated, her breasts ran dry. The suction continued for another minute, alternating back and forth until the system determined that she was well and truly dry. The cups disconnected with a wet pop, dropping from her breasts and swinging away from her body. They must be attached to the ceiling somewhere.

The dildos in her nethers continued to vibrate, but they were also on the downswing, the buzzing fading. With regret, the cow settled in her harness, waiting to be attended. The hiss in her ears continued, but the beat had faded.

She drifted, thinking about nothing in particular. A sharp pain blossomed in her skull. Half forgotten memories rushed into her mind's eye, bringing her back to relive the past. She moaned, an unwilling participant in the flashback.

She was behind the wheel, a masked man sliding into the passenger's seat. Her foot jammed the accelerator to the floor, the vehicle lurching into motion as if stung by a bee. She could feel the thrill of the chase as if it was yesterday, the rapid breeze flowing through open windows. The sharp trill of the sirens came ever closer, only one step behind.

They slalomed through the first intersection, narrowly missing a track filled with produce. The intersection's lights blazed red, changed due to the emergency signal broadcast by law enforcement. Even so, their back end clipped a hovering sedan which had been unable to stop in time when the lights had changed.

Her vehicle shuddered, a chunk of the body work breaking off with a crunch. The hover motors whined, redirecting their thrust as she spun the wheel. Her heart pumping, she jammed her foot down on the accelerator.

The car leaped forward, grinding as it strained for speed. Up ahead was a major cross street, but she thought she spotted an opening. She swung wide to the right, riding up over the curb. Small brush banged against the undercarriage of the vehicle, making a horrendous rumbling noise.

The car jumped the curb into the intersection, acting squirrely as the levitation engines did their best to keep the vehicle stable. She was used to this behavior, deftly compensating for the imbalance.

What she couldn't account for was a four door pickup that ran the red light, t-boning her from her blind spot on the right. Her head bounced against the driver’s side column, causing her to momentarily black out while their vehicle drifted sideways into oncoming traffic.

She regained consciousness in time to see the danger, jamming her foot on the brakes. The levitation engines spun forward, dumping their velocity at a terrific rate. Their bodies were flung forward, pinned against the dashboard. The car may not have had friction to contend with, but it couldn't shed momentum fast enough.

Their car smashed into a minivan, a full head on collision crumpling the fronts of both vehicles. There was a tremendous crash, her ears ringing as the airbag exploded in front of her face. She blinked stupidly, the sudden silence just as jarring as the initial crash.

She turned to look at her partner, her mouth dropping into a horrified gape. He hadn't buckled his seat belt, his head ramming into the windshield with tremendous force. His skin was pallid, blood trickling down his chin.

She pressed a hand against his side, trying to rouse him, but he was comatose, maybe even dead. She tried to unbuckle her seat belt, but the dash had collapsed inwards, trapping her thighs. With chagrin, she realized they were screwed. The only way for her to leave the vehicle now would be with heavy equipment.

A plaintive crying noise directed her attention to the car in from of them, which also had two occupants. A little girl was strapped into the passenger side seat, her small face damaged by glass. Her tiny hands pressed against the women in the driver's seat, pawing at her side.

"Mommy, mommy, what's wrong with you?"

She shifted her eyes to the right and wished she hadn't. The mother hadn't fared nearly as well as her. For whatever reason, the airbag hadn't deployed, her face smashed into the steering column. Blood dripped down her face.

She looked away, visualizing the blood, dripping, dripping from her hands. "Mommy, mommy!" cried the child in her mind.

The vision twisted, resetting as if she was trapped in a twisted horror show. The masked man climbed into her car a second time. She applied the accelerator. An odd hissing noise came from beneath the floorboards, no, not the floor.

She wasn't in a car anymore. She didn't have to remember these horrid memories. She was a cow, paying her debt to humanity. She sucked on the gag, the cool liquid soothing her mind and helping her to lock away the bad memories. As long as she continued to drink, her darkest nightmares would be repressed. Someone had told her that. Given enough time, she might even believe it.

She drank to her heart's content, pleased that her old life drifted away in a haze. She wasn't that woman any more. She rejected those actions, the evil desires that had led her here. She was being repurposed into something greater than she had ever been on her own.

There came a warmth at her ankles. She blinked, concerned as she realized that she was being unbound, her milking session complete. She sighed with regret and sucked down more of the rich liquid, hoping it would ease her anxiety.

It wasn't helping. The only place she could forget her past sins was in the milking stalls, and that didn't happen nearly often enough for her. If she went too long without milking, she even started to forget the truths fed into her ears by the headphones clamped to her head.

"Come, MU2," said her alien keeper, taking away the comfort of the headphones.

She gave a low moan in protest, leaning into the milking stand. A neon green hand patted her side. "We can't leave you here, your body isn’t conditioned yet. In a few more weeks, after your course of injections is completed, you'll be ready for longer sessions."

She sighed, swallowing another mouthful of the liquid from her mask. A few weeks seemed like an eternity in her world. How long had she been at the facility already? Her memories tended to blur together.

She wasn't too concerned with finding out. One of her primary reasons for coming here was to forget her old life, to banish away the graphic images that replayed themselves over and over in her head.

A click came from her milking stand, releasing her arms. She stood up, waiting passively for her keeper to attend her. The busty, green woman was busy arranging her equipment.

The feeding tube from MU2's mask stretched out in front of her, twisting upwards to the ceiling. The gravity feed provided a constant stream for her to suckle on. She took another swallow.

While she was drinking, she wasn't thinking. It was better that way. If she didn't think, she couldn't feel guilt. The cry of anguished voices faded in her head as she sucked, providing her a measure of relief.

Her keeper worked with a large bottle, attaching it to a hose which rinsed its interior. She drained the bottle, screwing it onto a large, stainless steel tank that stood on the far side of the milking stall. Humming as she worked, she pressed a button on her station and the bottle filled with a creamy, white liquid.

Once the bottle was over half full, she stopped the process and unscrewed it. Pulling over a rolling metal stand, she capped the bottle and inverted it within a cylindrical metal cage.

"Bear with me, MU2, this won't take long at all."

She seized the tube running from MU2's mask, running her fingers down the line until they wrapped around a connection point. She snapped off the hose, which released with a small hiss, attaching it to the smaller bottle. "There, all prepped for transport," she declared.

MU2 breathed in the liquid trickling down her throat. She was pleased, but also worried. Over time she seemed to require more and more of the milk to retain her sanity. She dearly hoped that they had another technique for helping her to suppress her memories.

The alien crouched down and grabbed her shoulder, helping her to her feet. She was feeling a bit light headed, and the assistance was welcome. She followed her keeper's lead, padding across the tiled floor on bear feet.

Radiant heat warmed her soles as they walked, her feet shuffling as she staggered along. The facility was kept at a comfortable temperature for the human animals. They did not require clothing. The keepers, in their latex outfits which did not retain much heat, were just as comfortable as their charges.

The keeper forced her to keep moving, rolling her bottle of milk along with them on a stand. They passed a divider, revealing a second, identical milking stall. Baffles decorated the partition preventing excessive sound from disturbing the milking.

This stall was occupied by a red head, her moans swallowed by the rubber mask strapped tightly to her skull. The milking domes clicked on and off, streams of the creamy liquid gushing from her breasts, which were almost large enough to entirely fill the cups.

She blinked, making a double take. This cow had four breasts. No, they could almost be termed udders due to their size. Two additional, round, fleshy breasts had grown under her first two. These were also attached to the milking suction cups.

MU2 looked on with jealousy. Not only did the cow have more breasts than her, but she had clearly been at the facility for far longer. Whatever skin coloration she had arrived with had long since faded, being slowly replaced with a uniform ochre brown. Splotches of white decorated her hide, as white as the milk which blasted like jets from her teats.

The cow grunted in pleasure, drinking greedily from her mask. She raised her head, looking at them with dull eyes. Her thoughts had been drained away by the long session, the dildos pumping in her snatch ensuring her long session would be pleasant.

MU2 could only aspire to be as good a milker as this cow. She wasn't sure what it took, but she resolved to do anything the staff recommended so that she could increase her production as fast as possible. Spending her time getting her brain sucked away through the milking pumps seemed far more appealing than reliving past memories.

The bound cow mooed at them, tossing her head in acknowledgment. The keeper chuckled, clucking her tongue as she gave the cow a wave. "MA8 here is a friendly one. She filters more milk than three regular cows combined, and her efficiency keeps increasing! She’s a super rare specimen they call an Ultra cow. Don’t get your hopes up, only one percent of cows are Ultras."

MU2 gave the other cow a low moan, unable to scrape together anything more hearty. She was feeling quite exhausted from her flashback. That had been very disturbing. Hopefully with more training she would be able to increase her hardiness.

The keeper squeezed her arm and tugged her gently. "She's an exemplar cow. If you work hard you should at least be able to look just like her. Does that sound good to you?"

MU2 made a guttural sound, which could have been confused with agreement. The keeper ignored her lukewarm response, leading the way with a strong arm. MU2 stumbled, doing her best to increase her pace.

They were passing more stalls, these ones empty, their milking benches looking strangely inviting. From the ceiling hung the milking cups, four dangling tubes of plastic terminating in large domes. A sudden urge spiked her brain. She wanted them back on her breasts, sucking her memories away.

"No, MU2," said her keeper gently. "It's a rest cycle for you. You'll get your chance for more milking later. We might even consider giving you another injection to speed the process along."

She reached out one hand and tugged on MU2's left teat, which still felt swollen. "These simply aren't ready for more suction yet. You need to rest and feed to get them nice and full again."

The keeper slapped her tit away, her breast jiggling as it swayed. MU2 didn't protest the rough handling. Being treated like livestock seemed perfectly normal to her. She wasn’t certain whether that was the influence of the drugs she was under, or her actual desires. No matter.

The keeper led her out of the milking stalls and into a side room, positioning MU2 onto a metallic square built into the floor. In front of her was a mirror, through which she stared dully at herself. She was nothing remarkable, her nude body five foot five, average in most respects.

Her brown hair was buzzed short in a bid to confuse law enforcement in her previous life. That had obviously failed. She grinned at herself, exposing milky white teeth. Damn, that just made her want to be milked even more!

She cupped her breasts, feeling her swollen teats. They looked a little bruised, but were otherwise only slightly larger than usual. Massaging them hurt, so she dropped her hands and left them alone. They simply ached too much.

Her girl friends always made fun of her meager assets, but that made it easier for her to pass as a man while driving the getaway vehicle. It had worked for longer than it had any right to, but eventually her luck had run out. And now here she was.

It might be her imagination, but she thought that her skin was looking paler than usual. She scratched at her chest under her breasts, the skin feeling itchy. A series of purple dots decorated her shoulders, two on each side gracing her lower neck. Were those the sites of the injections the keeper had been talking about?

She sucked at the gag in her mouth, extracting a creamy stream of the substance from the tube. Her eyes unfocused, she thought of nothing, simply nursing until she was told to do otherwise.

"Very good, MU2, it might not look like it yet, but you're filling out nicely. Keep it up and you'll be a production cow in no time at all!"

MU2 thrilled at the praise, but she still felt irritated at how much more she would need to endure. This process of becoming a cow was taking much longer than she had hoped. The optional program was still a much better choice than being tortured by her memories in solitary. If only it didn't take so damn long for the transformation to happen!

The plaintive cry of the little girl surfaced again, and she stared straight ahead, looking directly into her pale blue eyes. She sucked on her gag, swallowing desperately to keep the memories at bay. By sheer force of will she was able to tuck them into the back of her mind. It was strange that after all of the brutal crimes she had committed, the accident affected her the most.

Her keeper walked up next to her, the thin, pale humanoid looking like a waif next to her. The neon green alien was far taller than her, her head tendrils reaching up to the top of the mirror. She moved with an unnatural grace, placing a six fingered hand on MU2’s shoulder. The rest of the creature's body was hidden under her slick, black catsuit, which clung to her like a second skin.

The female's breasts were large, far larger than MU2 would expect for someone of her frame. MU2 wasn't sure what she should have been expecting. The keeper was an alien, after all. Small, square latex flaps were built into the suit, situated right over the alien’s nipples. MU2 stared at them shamelessly, the dimpled surfaces reminding her of her own, sore tits.

She didn't know too much about their species, only that they were the keepers in the facility. She didn't recall learning about them in any of her grade school classes, but the galaxy was a large place. It was much easier to hide a new species than you would think.

The particulars of the contract the government had made with these aliens had not been disclosed to the public, but she didn't really care what they were. If they could help her to reach her goal of forgetting, they could enslave as many human females as they wanted. Maybe that was a selfish goal, but she truly believed that as a human cow she could be useful again instead of being a leech on society.

The keeper's hand on her shoulder tightened, leading her away from the mirror and her aching thoughts. They were crossing through a nondescript hallway, blue tiles flowing out ahead of them. The walls were painted a neutral beige, stripes of other colors running down their sides as directions. Descriptions were written in an indecipherable alien script.

That was okay. She didn't need to know where she was being taken. She was being taken care of by her keeper. She sucked and took another pull of the creamy substance leaking into her mouth. She was calm. She would be a fine cow.

They passed into a grid of rooms, demarcated with large, floor to ceiling windows. The interior of each room looked like what could be a considered a pen. The floors were tiled blue, just like the hallways, but the back corner was piled with straw. A few women sat against the wall, their hands crossed over their knees. The rear of the room was decorated with metallic fixtures, which were unfamiliar to her.

There was no toilet, or any other furniture to speak of. How were the women expected to take care of themselves without going all over the floor? This must be a temporary holding cell, she decided, not a final destination.

The willowy keeper led her past the first chamber, which she now viewed as a cell. As they paced forward, she realized that she was passing more and more of them. This was a literal cell block, chambers storing women from all over the empire.

The operation must be far more extensive and well equipped than she had known when she had signed her life into their clutches. Not that they had mistreated her. She sucked at the yummy liquid through her gag, tasting it again as if it was her first time. She was rather enjoying her life here. So far it had been euphoric, and more effective than anything else she had tried to repress her memories.

Taking another pull on the gag, she was dismayed to find that nothing more was left. She sucked and sucked, but her tank must have run dry. She almost wanted to cry.

She halted as the keeper brought her up to a sliding door, which opened in front of them. "Here we must part ways for now, MU2. Be a good cow, and next time we shall start you on the second series."

She worked to unhook the straps of her mask, unwrapping the bands from around the back of her head. MU2 complained at the lack of liquid to drink, making a low moan in her throat.

The keeper patted her on the shoulder. "There, there," she said. "I've filled you as full as I've dared." She pressed a hand up against MU2’s stomach, which felt warm and tight. "You still need training to reach the required capacity," she explained. "Give it some time to digest and we'll proceed in a short while."

She wrapped her unnaturally large hand around MU2's neck as if she owned her, pushing her into the chamber with a forceful shove. Stumbling inside, the door rotated shut behind her.

She didn't feel angry. She didn't feel anything in particular. She just wanted more of that liquid! A gentle tug at her bladder indicated something else. She would need to find a restroom, and soon.

The outer wall finished rotating, unlatching an inner door. Sliding open, the interior revealed one of the glass cells she had been looking into earlier.

Near the center of the room, tapping her feet, was an average built woman, looking at her expectantly. She stepped forward, anticipating a greeting. Instead, she was tackled from her right, a blow landing on her head. She jerked to the side, stumbling as if falling.

She dropped to the floor, rolling into a fighting stance. Her assailant laughed, trying to follow up with a second blow. She blocked the jab with her left hand, looking for an opening.

The other woman didn't wait for an invitation, rushing forward with a haymaker. MU2 evaluated the threat and stepped to the side. Her assailant had over-committed, the full force of her momentum behind the blow.

MU2 grabbed her right shoulder and helped her along. The woman couldn't arrest her momentum, crashing into the glass window with an almighty thud. MU2 winced. That had to have hurt.

The woman standing in the center of the room began to clap. "Bravo, bravo. Even in a place like this, you cannot be taken unawares."

Like all the others in the cell, she was nude, her large, voluminous breasts looking out of place in the company of the other women. They defied gravity, pert despite their size. They were probably fake, installed by the woman to enhance her mystique. They didn't impress MU2. They were all equal inside the facility.

On her breast bone was the tattoo of a cobra, its hood flared and fangs extended. Its lower body twined around both of her breasts, skulls nestled in its coils. A grim reminder that this woman was a convict, just like her.

MU2 frowned, looking back and forth to evaluate the situation. The woman she had tossed into the wall was getting back up, but the fight had drained from her. She scowled, but had clearly had enough for now.

"You've impressed me," said the first woman, shooting the second an order with her gaze. The second woman slinked back to the wall, an annoyed guttural echoing from her throat.

The woman shifted her attention back to MU2. "What do you know about this place?" she queried. "We have been captured recently, and want to know the lay of the land, as it were."

MU2 cleared her throat, tight from hours of suckling on her gag. Her voice came, coarse from disuse. "Congratulations, ladies," she said acerbically. You've entered the Farm, a maximum security prison for the most hardened of criminals."

"Those who get sent here don't ever leave. This is the end of the line for any woman who breaks the inviolable rules of the empire."

The woman frowned. "Nonsense, there must be some way to escape. They can't possibly stop us if we all work together." She had a wicked glint in her eyes.

MU2 wanted to disabuse her of her fantasies, but the truth was that she didn't know if anybody had ever managed to escape the Farm. The answer was academic to her, of course, for this woman couldn't possibly know that she had no desire to escape. On the contrary, she very much wanted to stay. She wanted to live out her remaining days as a cow, not as a scheming criminal.

MU2 barked a laugh. "Okay, if we were to hypothetically work together, what are you in here for?"

The woman struck a pose, completely shameless. “We’re the Natty Pirates! My name is Natalia, the leader of this little gang.”

She pointed at the woman glaring at them from the wall, her hands raised in fists. MU2 spotted a small cobra tattooed onto her right shoulder. Must be a marker of those who belonged to the gang.

“That’s Kylie, my second in command.” She frowned at her. “Do calm down, Kylie, she’s not an enemy.”

Dismissing her, Natalia turned to point at a well muscled woman who sat on a pile of straw near the rear of the room. “That’s Ashley, she handles the heavy work.”

“Sup,” replied Ashley, nonplussed, stretching her arms and flexing her biceps.

“And finally, there in the corner is Iris. She handles the technical work on the team.”

Iris held her hands around her legs, rocking forward and back with her head pressed into her knees. She was a petite girl, her folded body small enough to fit into a suitcase. She didn’t look up at the introduction, preferring to stay rolled up in a ball.

“Daisy is our last member, but they took her over an hour ago. Do you have any idea what they might be doing to her?”

MU2 considered. The other cow she had seen in the milking room could not possibly have been Daisy. Her transformation was far too advanced compared to her companions. Given their lack of knowledge about the facility, they couldn’t possibly know that the keepers were turning Daisy into a cow, like her. Perhaps it would be best if she didn’t reveal what was actually going on.

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “My memories are a little hazy, to be honest. I think I’ve been drugged.”

Telling the truth was always the best option, as long as you didn’t tell the whole truth. Even so, Natalia wasn’t looking very convinced. “You’re telling me you don’t remember anything?”

She walked up to MU2, invading her personal space. She examined her tits and looked at her shoulders. With one hand she ran a finger down her right shoulder, examining the series of two purple dots which decorated her scapula on either side. “What are these?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’m not… entirely certain,” replied MU2. That was true. While she suspected that they were the injection sites the facility keepers were using to turn her into a cow, she couldn’t be certain. She hadn’t been paying attention during the initial injections.

Natalia poked one of the dots, hard, but when MU2 didn’t react, the pirate leader shrugged. “Okay, then. Fuck off for a bit while we work on a plan. I’ll bring you back in when we come up with something useful.”

She marched over to Kylie and began to have an animated discussion with her. Kylie looked like she was ready to punch MU2 out.

They didn’t trust her. That was smart. Despite being caged with them, she wasn’t really a part of their crew. She wandered off to look at the metallic fixtures at the rear of the room, not quite able to work out what they were used for.

She felt an urgent need to piss, casting around for a way to explain her conundrum without annoying the other. She raised her voice, talking to the room in general. "How do you… go around here?"

The muscled girl sitting on some straw took pity on her, leading her to the far wall. Natalia shot her a look, but Ashley rolled her eyes. "If we do nothing, we get the joy of sitting in a pile of piss and shit, so fuck off."

Natalia clenched her lips but said nothing, waving them off.

MU2 felt a little bit intimidated by the new girl, far more then she had felt for the first two she had met. The woman was massive compared to MU2, athletic with well defined biceps. She had the grace of a fighter who could hurt you by accident and knew it.

She didn't exactly feel safe in this woman's presence, but she sensed less hostility. Mute indifference was quite acceptable when compared to open violence.

Ashley grabbed hold of an oval cup attached low on the far wall. She pulled on it and it released, spooling out on an attached metallic tube. On either end the cup squeezed into two points, with a hollow interior.

"This is what I call 'the Evacuator'," quipped the woman. "You stick it on your privates like so."

Without any hesitation, she yanked hard on the dome and placed it between her legs. It immediately clamped to her skin, suckling at her privates. "From here, the process is simple. Do your business." She winked. "I'll let you figure out how to get out of it once you're done."

She ripped the suction cup free with a snap of the wrist that looked practiced. MU2 was doubtful she had the arm strength to do it the same way. From the other woman's grimace, it must have stung.

She hesitated. "Thank you," she said, surprised to find any form of kindness in this gang of criminals.

"Don't thank me," replied Ashley, her face neutral. "I just don't feel like sitting in your crap."

She returned to her place by the wall, discussion over. MU2 shrugged. If that was tough love, it was an improvement over Kylie's introduction.

There were four more stations on the wall beside the one Ashley had used. She yanked a suction cup from the wall, as directed, and shoved it between her legs. She could feel the air tugging at her fingers, the device constantly running. Hesitant, she moved it in slowly. It jumped from her hands, locking itself against her skin with a pop.

The tugging sensation was distracting, not to mention the thought of peeing in front of the other women, but this was her only option and she really needed to go. She tried her best to relax herself, her flesh pressing father into the suction cup.

After what seemed like an interminable period, she managed to expel what felt like the merest trickle of liquid. With the suction, it was hard to determine whether she had managed to expel everything in her bladder. At any rate, the edge had been taken off and she was far too uncomfortable to continue.

She reached her hand down and tried to pry the suction off her vagina. The makeshift toilet refused to cooperate. The other women guffawed, watching her struggle. She was the entertainment today, it seemed. Too bad.

Instead of getting flustered, the shame served to focus her. The thrill of shame and danger were all the same to her, triggering her logical, thinking side. The ability to focus in such situations was what made her a great getaway driver. It was also why that girl's mother was dead.

She shied away from that thought, sliding her fingers to the top of the suction device. Pressing in, she deformed the skin around her pubic area sufficiently to release the seal, the suction cup popping off in her hand. She let it go, the tubing automatically reeling the device back into the wall.

Ingenious, but not particularly hygienic. How many other occupants had used the toilet between cleanings? They really were treating them like livestock!

Her business done, she turned to face the rest of the crowd. Natasha stood facing the door of the cell, inspecting her long, red nails. Kylie paced like a wild animal, slamming her fist into the wall at regular intervals. Ashley was sitting on her pile of straw as if she was a queen, her expression closed off. That didn’t look promising.

She decided to talk to the last one, Iris, who still sat in a corner hugging her arms, head hidden behind her knees. The rocking never stopped, following an internal rhythm.

MU2 pressed her back against the wall, folding her arms in a non threatening manner. “Hey,” she said, hoping that she didn’t come off as too intrusive. “Are you holding up well? How long have you been in the facility?”

“Fuck off,” came the reply. “I’m not here for your entertainment.” The rocking continued.

MU2 blinked. That hadn’t gone as she had hoped. Bereft of anyone to talk to, she looked around the cell. The ceiling was high, the room two stories tall. The ventilation shaft was built vertically into the ceiling, the cover bolted on from the inside. There was no way for occupants to reach the shafts even if they worked together, cutting off a potential escape route.

She walked over and tapped her knuckles against one of the glass walls, which appeared quite solid. From the interior, it was opaque, preventing the prisoners from getting an idea of who might be watching them. It was like living in a fishbowl. They were being taken care of as if they were livestock. Seemed appropriate.

If only she had more of that creamy liquid. She was starting to keenly feel the lack of its silky presence, her throat parched. What she had drunk so far had gone through her system quite quickly, and she was starting to feel the need to go a second time. She held it, not interested in putting on another show for her unfriendly cell mates.

She idly played with a nipple, hefting one of her swollen breasts, marveling at how fast it seemed to be swelling back up again. Milk production was high, and her small breasts didn’t have much storage capacity. She idly dreamed of being milked again, but the intrusive thoughts from her accident started to interrupt her.

Losing the memory suppression effect of the liquid they were feeding her was concerning. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to package away the thoughts that constantly assaulted her. So far she was holding it together, but she was already starting to think of herself as Morgan Diaz instead of the cow she wished to be. That past life needed to stay a part of the past. She was MU2 now. That’s how it needed to be.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the airlock cycling on the far side of the cell. Kylie rushed up to see who was being sent inside. It was smart of the keepers to keep themselves isolated from their prisoners. She could easily imagine Kylie attacking one of them if she was given the opportunity.

The figure who stepped through was no keeper, however. Instead, she was an average built woman, with larger than average breasts. They defied gravity without an ounce of sag, genetic superiority that was envy inducing. Morgan couldn’t help but compare the new woman’s assets to her own breasts and be a little disappointed.

Her second most distinguishing feature was her incredibly blond hair, which flowed over her shoulders in a cloud of fluffy ringlets. Her countenance was clueless, which, while it might seem reasonable for a stereotypical view of blondes, it probably wasn’t usual due to the fuss Kylie was making over her.

“What the fuck did they do to you, Daisy?” asked Kylie, straight out.

Daisy returned her query with a giggle, fluffing her hair. “I feel a bit out of it,” she said in reply, her voice uncertain. “Who are you?”

Kylie looked her missing crew mate up and down, trying to figure out why she was acting so strange. She brushed away one of Daisy’s hands, pushing back some of her ringlets to reveal her shoulders. Kylie traced a finger down her scapula and Daisy shivered with pleasure.

“Just as I thought, she’s been treated the same as the other bitch over there.” Kylie pointed her other hand at Morgan.

Morgan was offended, but she said nothing. She couldn’t see how this was really any of her business.

Kylie continued her examination, touching one of Daisy’s breasts. Daisy slapped her hand away. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, perplexed. She blinked, a measure of seriousness returning to her eyes. “What am I, a doll to you?”

Kylie seemed to relax a little. “See? Her breasts are sore and red, just like that flat chested woman.”

“The name’s Morgan,” she offered, annoyed at the continued insults. “I’m not ‘that woman.’”

Kylie ignored her, focused entirely on Daisy. “Daisy, what did they do to you? You don’t usually act this spacey.”

Daisy looked confused again. “I’m… not quite certain. All I have are certain impressions, but no real memories. I can remember being hooked up to different machines. There was some kind of suction.” She squeezed her eyes into narrow slits, frustrated. “I’m sorry, I wish I could remember more.”

Kylie placed a hand on her arm. “That’s okay, Daisy, don’t pressure yourself. We’ll figure this out.”

She turned to Natalia, who was studiously avoiding her fierce presence. For someone who proclaimed to be the leader of their pirate gang, she certainly didn’t much seem like she was in control.

“What are we going to do, oh fearless leader? What’s your brilliant plan this time? Smuggling uranium turned out to be a fucking disaster.”

Natalia’s eyes flashed, one of her long fingernails slicing into her own palm. A small drop of blood beaded on her skin, but she ignored it. “I’m willing to entertain your eccentricities while we’re in space, but you’re not a planner. If we hadn’t taken that job, we’d be eating recirculated dust and breathing vacuum.”

She held her hands out in front of her. “I did what I had to so that we could all survive. It’s not my fault it went wrong. Our employers must have tipped off the authorities. They wanted us to go down.”

Kylie wasn’t willing to be placated. She wrapped an arm around Daisy, who was a still a little out of it, and glared at their leader. “Is that so. Then what’s your plan, now? All we’re doing at the moment is dicking around and waiting from them to do something horrible to us.”

“I’m not dicking, I’m thinking.” Natalia frowned. “Here’s what we know so far. Whatever they did to Daisy left her in a placid and empty headed state, with tell tale purple splotches on her shoulders. I’m theorizing that they’re injecting us with something to keep us docile while they operate on us. The purpose of their operations is still a mystery.”

She made a moue. “I don’t have enough information to form a plan, yet. There’s fuck all in this cell to help us out, and we still don’t know their goals. Can you think of anything I’ve missed?”

Kylie formed a fist. “We should stop being so passive, and make a concerted attack.”

Natalia raised an eyebrow. “And how do you suggest we accomplish that? We haven’t even seen who is keeping us captive. Anytime someone goes in or out we cycle through that airlock over there. They haven’t given us any exploitable opportunities yet. We need to wait and observe to find our chance to act, instead of fighting each other.”

Kylie scowled, but looked away, not having a good rebuttal. “That goes for all of you,” said Natalia, looking at each member of her crew. “Keep an eye out, and let me know anything, I mean absolutely anything that might help us to escape. Any idea you might have, no matter how stupid, isn’t out of the question.”

Morgan could tell that the power struggle was over for now, Natalia regaining the upper hand. Her control was tentative though, and she sensed that it wouldn’t take much for the rag tag group of pirates to degenerate into useless squabbling. That might be an opportunity for her. She tucked the idea away for later.

The room was suddenly awash in red light, a spinning beacon lowering from the ceiling. A distinctive bong sounded, as if a bell had been rung. "Feeding time," declared the voice. "Feeding time."

Smooth metal partitions dropped in the wall above the toilet vacuums, revealing more mysterious plastic devices with hoses. When none of the others seemed willing to investigate, Morgan took the initiative. She, at least, was not worried about what the keepers were planning on doing to them.

The new devices were paired with the lower vacuums, two domed projections and a rounded mask. The light immediately clicked on in her brain. This was a milking facility, and they did want to make sure their cows were well fed and plump, trained to be high producers. Why not include some training along with their meals?

Eager to give it a try, she pulled on the mask, which easily came away from the wall under her fingers. There was some back pressure from the hose attached to the mask, but she didn't care. She was somewhat desperate to drink more of that creamy liquid, and it didn't matter what form that took.

The interior of the mask had a bulbous projection, which she took as another mouth gag. Sticking it behind her front teeth, she tasted the familiar rubber. She worked it with her lips, hoping it would emit some of the delicious creamy substance, but nothing yet came out.

A pump whirred and the gag inflated, trapping itself behind her lips. The mask popped onto her face, clamping itself under her chin and over her nose. The negative pressure sucked the air from her lungs, but it was only temporary until the gag had inflated sufficiently to fit the mask tight against her face.

The pressure eased, cool, clear air feeding into her nose. A sweet taste began in the back of her throat, indicating that the gas she was breathing was probably drugged. That was okay. She wanted to give in to the keepers. To be the best cow they had ever seen.

A digital readout on the wall in front of her eyes lit with block letters. 'ATT BRST SCTN,' it proclaimed. Of course, that's what the extra two cups were for. She reached out for the rounded domes and wrapped her hands around the rear of the devices, spreading her fingers around the hoses.

These were made out of a hard plastic, with a large volume she only wished she could fill. She hadn't reacted at the time, but Kylie's insult had stung her quite badly. Her breasts really were subpar compared to the others. Hopefully here at the Farm they would be able to help.

The suction commenced as she brought the cups close, first one, then the other popping forward to settle onto her flesh. Her breasts were still sore from their workout earlier, but she ignored the pain. She needed to feed and to train if she ever hoped to match the other cows in the facility.

The suction pumps cycled, drawing her flesh deeper into the cups with each tug. Despite her meager endowment, her existing breast flesh looked positively massive as its volume was expanded by the pumps. The tugging was so distracting that she almost didn't notice when the flow of the creamy liquid commenced in her mask.

The fresh, cool taste was back, her mind sailing on a sea of happiness. She was not quite hooked up completely, however. The wall text had changed to read 'LWR SCTN OPTIONAL.'

Well, it certainly wasn't optional for her. She already needed to pee again. Badly. She grabbed for the lower suction cup and pressed it between her hips, jumping as it locked into place over her vulva.

Now she was complete, following all the given instructions. Drinking in her own small world of bliss, she didn't notice Kylie approaching until her angular face intruded on her peaceful reverie.

She moaned in protest as the other woman tugged on her mask, hard. The gag pressed against her front teeth, but the force failed to release the pressure. "It's no use," she declared. "Once the cycle has begun there's no way to stop it.

Morgan swallowed, the calming effect of the liquid and the gas beginning to take hold. Kylie's attempt to remove her mask was futile. The feeding session would continue as required. She smiled at Kylie’s smoldering expression, feeling safe in the knowledge that the other woman could not see her face.

Kylie was moved out of the way by another woman. It was Ashley! She was peering at Morgan and the pumps worked her breast flesh, seemingly interested in the process. "Now hold on, Kylie, we're all getting pretty hungry here and this seems like it's the only way they'll feed us. I want to know what this system does to Morgan."

Morgan couldn't care less what the system was doing to her. She was peeing away her thoughts into the vacuum toilet while sucking on sweet liquid, her breasts being tugged on with authoritative force. For a moment she was able to forget her past life again and pretend to be MU2, but that didn't last.

A ding sounded from the console in front of her and the system shut off, the display reading 'CYC COMPLT.'

The gag deflated and the suction stopped. Shit, it was just starting to get good. Her head was still in the sky, but she was already coming down from the high, jammed back into her drab Morgan shell. It was tiring to be her. After being given that short taste, she wanted more than anything to be a cow. Never had slavery seemed most like freedom.

The gag popped from her mouth, retracting into the wall, along with the suction cups and vacuum toilet. The system was clearly setup for short feeding cycles. Ashley took her by the arm, peering into her dopey eyes.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

For a moment Morgan thought she detected an actual ounce of concern, but she dismissed it as the other woman must be under some duress. She scratched her chest, feeling itchy. She shuddered, her lips feeling wobbly.

"About the same as before," she said, "But now I just want to sit there and drink that liquid forever."

Ashley glanced at Natalia. "It's probably drugged. Not sure if it's a good idea to risk it."

Natalia crossed her arms. "We don't have much choice. We're going to be weak pretty quickly if we don't get any nutrition."

Ashley shrugged. "I'm okay with giving it a shot. Morgan here has already proved it won't kill us."

She brushed a hand over Morgan's shoulder, giving her arm a quick squeeze. She hadn't imagined the fleeting warmth earlier. She shot Ashley a look but the woman didn't return her gaze, leaving her to wonder.

Daisy sidled up to one of the feeding devices. "What did it feed you?" She asked Morgan, looking at the mask hungrily.

"More of that creamy liquid," she replied. "Thick, almost like a paste."

The liquid did have a bit of an odd texture. It wasn't like cow's milk, and she was damned sure it couldn't be a woman's milk, despite her original suspicions. There wasn't enough water content.

Daisy licked her lips. "I'm trying it," she declared, grabbing one of the masks in her hands and pressing it against her face before anyone could protest.

Her face scrunched as the gag inflated, the mask attaching securely. She eagerly pulled out the breast cups and pressed them against her torso, the flesh still a little swollen from her earlier pumping. As the liquid flowed, a dreamy smile blossomed on her face, her throat swallowing as she drank in the sweet liquid.

The room was flooded with yellow light and the airlock cycled on the far wall. "Morgan, designation M-U-2, requesting your presence."

The voice repeated her name, then fell silent. The door remained open. Morgan looked around at the others. "I guess I should go find out what they want," she said.

"What's an M-U-2?" asked Iris, who was suddenly in her face, peering at her with intense, violet eyes.

"I'm not sure," replied Morgan. "I think they've given me a number. Isn't that what you do to prisoners?"

This seemed logical, and nobody questioned her answer. Kylie still eyed her with suspicion. "I'm going with you," she declared.

Morgan shrugged. "Your funeral. I doubt they'll let us both out at the same time."

She marched to the airlock, Kylie matching her step for step. She sighed, annoyed at the other's insistence. Brash and rude, she was just asking for trouble. Totally unattractive to her. That Ashley, on the other hand, had impressive muscles and looked like she knew how to handle a woman's needs.

Stopping inside the airlock, she halted on top of a triangle embedded into the floor. The chamber was circular and could fit four or five people comfortably, larger than an average size elevator.

Kylie marched to the other side, taking up position next to the exterior side of the lock. A sheen of light moved through the circular chamber, a rippling green. She waited patiently as the light dissipated, but nothing happened.

After a pregnant pause, a mechanical voice came from the chamber all around them. "Too many occupants detected in chamber. Please remove occupant."

Morgan shrugged. She wasn't sure what the other woman had expected would happen. Kylie scowled, but gave up her escape attempt. She shoved past Morgan on her way out, purposefully bumping shoulders.

"Don't let them get to you," she said. "We'll make it out of here. Together."

Morgan was surprised at the statement, but she didn't confuse it for friendliness. No, this was raw determination.

The lights in the chamber changed to a calming blue and the entire outer wall rotated. This provided an interlock which could only work with one entrance at a time.

She felt tension she had barely perceived slipping away from her. She knew their types. If you showed any weakness, they'd be all over you like flies on a rotting corpse. No, she had to pretend to be hard in front of Kylie.

Only she wasn't, not anymore. She was vulnerable, more so than she would like to admit. It was safer to retreat, to embrace her new future here. To forget any ideas of escape, for even if she left the facility, she could not escape her own memories. Even thinking about them briefly brought to life a terrified, lonely cry. She shivered, happy when the wall stopped moving, allowing her egress.

Outside, in the Farm, she could be what they wanted her to be. She didn't have to act as a peacemaker between two opposing personalities. She could be a cow and nobody would ask anything else of her.

Waiting outside the door was her keeper from earlier, lithe and neon green. Her face looked severe, wrinkles creasing the corners of her eyes. Even so, Morgan felt a sudden rush of emotion at seeing her captor, a warmth she felt the need to express.

She wrapped her arms around the alien and hugged her, resting a cheek on her shoulder. "Thank you for rescuing me," she whispered, a trickle of tears welling up in her eyes.

The alien brushed a thin arm through her hair, stopping her hand when it reached the nape of her neck, as if in ownership. "There, there, MU2, there's no need to worry. The first injections are the most difficult, but I promise you that they will get easier to bear with time."

The alien had misunderstood her, but that was okay. She shuddered, realizing that she was being a fool. Her emotions were making her irrational.

Getting a grip on herself, she moved to stand, still holding onto the alien's arm as if she was a lifeline. The alien slid her hand down Morgan's back, her fingers running over her vertebrae.

She chuckled. "It's okay to be uncertain, little cow, but we will build your confidence. Come with me, I have someone who is eager to meet you."

Morgan frowned. Who would want to meet her? Everyone she knew in her past life was a criminal, and she had left all that behind. She followed the alien with curiosity, wondering if this would help her to accomplish her goal of forgetting. There was so much she needed to forget.

"She was just asking about getting Paired the other day," continued the alien, eating the ground with wide strides. "She's almost to the age of Requirement, and has been hoping we'd find a suitable match. I think you'll like her."

Morgan wasn't quite sure what this was all about, but her interest had been piqued. "What is Pairing?" she asked. Was it some kind of strange alien ritual?

The alien pressed a finger to her lips, her wide eyes blinking slowly. "From my experience, it's easier shown than told. I've never been able to properly explain what happened during my Pairing."

She chuckled. "It's been so long, I can hardly remember the day anyway. That sort of ambition is best left to the young."

Morgan looked at the alien with new eyes. Her skin was pretty wrinkled, but she had no way of knowing just how old the alien was. How long did her species lives, anyway?

"Ah, here we are," declared the alien, pressing her thumb into the reader pad, her finger joints articulating unnaturally.

The door slid open with a rush of air, revealing a small chamber with two cushioned, rolling office chairs separated by a plastic partition. The partition had two holes built into it, around chest height. Half moon circles of plastic were glued underneath the holes with a slight curve. It looked like a shallow bowl had been merged into the wall.

Far more interesting was a new alien who watched her with bright eyes, resting in the other chair. This one also had neon green skin, but it was taut and fresh, far less leathery than that she had seen on the older keeper. She was tall, but not as stretched thin. Her eyes were pupilless and black, almond shaped like all of the aliens she had seen at the Farm, her mouth stretching wider than any human's. To top it off, her breasts were large and perky, giving a delightful jiggle inside her purple, latex bodysuit as she jumped to her feet.

"I'm so happy to see you!" she declared, trotting over to Morgan without any concern for modesty.

Morgan's eyes followed her voluminous breasts as they bounced towards her, the siren call of jealousy invading her thoughts once again. Was everyone here going to have nicer breasts than her? It was totally unfair!

"I'll leave you two to it,” declared the older keeper, heading for the door. Morgan made a sound of protest, but the keeper was firm. "I'll come back to get you after you're done. If you Pair with her, then your role is pretty much assured and we can proceed to the next set of injections. If not, we'll reevaluate."

The door shut and locked behind her, leaving her alone with the eager alien female. The woman grabbed her shoulders, trilling a delighted cry. Her wide, dark eyes seemed as large as dinner plates, her lips wide.

"Why do you smell so good?" asked the alien, being very careful to act as human as possible to avoid unnerving Morgan.

Morgan grimaced. She hasn't been able to clean herself recently. Was that what this alien was thinking of? How embarrassing. It didn't seem to be putting her off, though.

She gently took the alien's hands and pressed them together, removing them from her shoulders. "I like your enthusiasm, but in the human world, the first step is generally to introduce yourself."

She pressed a hand lightly against her chest. "My name is Morgan. I was arrested and convicted of felony murder for the death of a mother of four during an attempted getaway. Her name was Carla." The courtroom drama played through her mind again like a dull hammer.

She saw the father of the bereft family breaking down in tears once again in her mind’s eye. It was difficult for her to hold back her own tears at the retelling. Best to rip that bandage off quickly.

Honesty seemed like the best policy for dealing with this alien. She probably knew these details already, and even if she didn't it wouldn't be difficult for her to find out.

She smiled at the alien wanly. "That's why I'm here. I took a life, and I wish to atone. I cannot fathom what I could possibly do here that could make up for that, but at the very least I'm hoping that I can be made to forget my mistakes." Tears began to flood her eyes again.

The alien took her by the hand and led her over to the chair. "You've come to the right place," she said firmly, gripping her shoulder.

"My name is Eve. No, that's not my real name," she giggled. "My mother always tells me not to bother saying my actual name, but you might be my Pair."

A flow of garbled syllables clicked off her tongue, a fluting trill. "That's my real name. You don't have to remember all that. Eve will do fine."

Morgan sat down, watching the alien move with delight. She had a way of putting her at ease that she had never felt with another person.

Eve gave her a funny bow, lowering into a curtsy. "This is what you humans do when you greet each other, am I right?"

Morgan clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling laughter. The alien looked at her with alarm, a reddish tinge suffusing her green coloration. "What happened, did I do it wrong? I've been practicing for ages."

"No, that's right, but it's far too formal. I'm not a person that deserves that kind of respect."

Eve stared at her seriously. "See, now, that's the kind of thinking we need to correct. Whatever it is that you did in your past life, you can make it up for it here!”

She was so cheerful, Morgan almost believed her. She blinked, nonplussed. “And how exactly does that work? By turning me into a mindless cow?”

“No, silly,” replied the alien, taking a seat in the chair across from Morgan. “Well, that’s part of it. But that’s not the end goal. It is kind of a side effect, though.”

She pursed her wide lips. “Let me start over, this is getting too confusing.”

She rolled up to the partition, lifting her enormous breasts and settling them into the cups built into the plastic wall. She undid flaps in her bodysuit, flesh exploding out of the restraining material as if by magic. They were large, and looked swollen. Morgan even thought she could see a small amount of milk leaking from one of her tits. “There, much better,” she moaned.

She pointed at one of her breasts, which had slotted through the hole in the wall. “You’re going to drink my milk,” she said forcefully. “And you’re going to like it.”

Morgan eyed the dribbling tit with a sidelong glance. “What makes you think that?”

Eve smiled, the sides of her mouth almost reaching her elongated ears. “Because you’ve been doing it since you entered the facility.”

Morgan’s brows rose. The creamy liquid, of course. “Was that your milk?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes. The program is always tailored with a particular keeper in mind.”

Her smile faded. “Though, I, being the most junior and inexperienced member of the program, don’t know as much as I would like about the whole process.”

Brows tightening, she leaned forward, her breasts pressing deeper into the plastic cups. “What I do know is that my species’ milk is absolute poison. To everyone and everything. The problem is that, until our fertile years pass, we need it to survive. That’s where you come in.”

Morgan shifted in her seat. She was suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot.

Eve folded her hands on top of her breasts, pressing them down into the plastic cups until small splashes of milk dribbled from her tits. “Somewhere along the way it was discovered that human females are the perfect filters for our milk. We feed women like you our ‘product,’ your body processes it, and you output it from your own breasts as clean, pure milk that my body can ingest.”

She shivered in her seat, excited to talk about the perverse process. “There are some side effects, I admit, and it takes a while to find the right match. Most women aren’t willing to become our slaves, so we came up with this processing plant, where prospective filter cows can’t say no.”

“Only a compatible, Paired couple can filter each other’s milk efficiently. Of course, not all cows can be paired with an appropriate alien. Those cows which we can’t find a match for are sent to the purification department, where they are used to filter the milk from unpaired aliens in our population. We can only purify about one tenth the necessary milk this way, so finding matches is our top priority!”

She seemed proud of the process, sounding as though she was trying to convince Morgan of the necessity of the program. Morgan didn’t actually care. If being paired with this alien could bring her closer to the goal of forgetting her past life, they could do whatever they wanted to her body. She scratched at her chest, which was becoming quite itchy.

She eyed the alien’s breasts and leaned forward, latching onto one of her tits with her lips. She wrapped her hands around a breast and lifted it up from the plastic cup, tugging it towards her through the hole in the partition. She moaned, sucking and tasting the wonderful, creamy liquid.

Eve was startled, looking at her as if she had grown a second head. She stumbled, still trying to follow her script, which she must have spent quite some time preparing. “We’ve come up with some methods to help the process along, including… mmm… hypnosis, and… mmm… pheromones. Which I’m not currently using! What’s wrong with you?”

Morgan let the nipple pop from her lips, savoring the aftertaste of Eve’s milk. “What’s wrong with you? This is clearly delicious.”

Eve gaped, having lost control of the situation. “This isn’t how I’ve been told it works. You’re supposed to protest that being turned into a cow is demeaning and refuse. I’m supposed to deploy all the coercive means at my disposal to brainwash you into wanting to become my slave. I feel like we’ve skipped a few steps.”

Morgan chuckled. “Can we just pretend we did all that already? I’d like to keep sucking.”

Dumbfounded, Eve just sat and stared at her for a few moments, her lips working.

Shrugging, Morgan grabbed the alien’s other breast and began to suck it as well. The more she sucked, the less she remembered. She could pretend to be MU2, with no flashbacks of nasty crashes and broken glass. The new sensations and experiences were blunting the trauma in her mind. Fascinated with the alien, she wasn’t as likely to think the bad thoughts.

She blinked, cursing at herself. This was a pink elephant scenario all over again. Just bringing it up was already starting to bring it back.

She licked her lips, the tips of them tingling. She couldn’t do this all by herself. She needed some help. Sighing, she lifted her head and looked at the astounded alien. “On second thought, hypnosis or whatever it is you do would probably be a good idea right about now so I can put myself more in the mood.”

Eve shut her mouth. “You’re right, I’m not doing my duty. I’m so green my own slave has to tell me how to act.” She tittered nervously, looking uncertain.

Morgan took pity on her. “Look, you’re not doing a bad job, you just got a strange partner. I want to forget my past and be your cow, and you want to do your duty. We can make this work. Really.”

Eve’s lips stopped trembling, a wicked light glinting in her black sclera. “You’re right. I just need to follow my training.”

She puffed herself up, resting her hands on the top of the plastic partition. “We’ll skip the pheromones, I don’t think you need them. What you do need to do is look at my eyes instead of my breasts. Yes, I know they’re fascinating. I love playing with them too.”

Morgan tried her best to change her locus of concentration, but it was doing no good. She needed more milk. She sucked at the teat, the warmth of the neon green breast flesh touching her lips.

"You're distracted," sighed Eve. "That's no good, we can't Pair like this. I need you to focus. Focus on me. Focus on my face."

She reached her arms across the partition and seized Morgan’s head on both sides, tilting her neck up. The tit popped from her lips, and she momentarily regretted its lack, until she looked into Eve’s black eyes. Darker than a pit, they sucked her in. She was falling into those eyes, deeper and deeper, falling into the abyss.

She landed, dropping onto a blackened pillow, resting in the center of a comfortable bed, all in black. Two eyes watched her from above, and she watched them. They were enormous. They were her world.

The outline of a mouth opened, a thin line of white in the black. “Drink,” the lips said.

Her jaw opened and closed, sucking mindlessly. Thick, clear liquid drained down her throat. Her tongue laved a perfect breast, more liquid trickling into her, filling her with perfection. She was a milk slave. She would be filled with Her milk.

End Chapter One