Becoming

Jess stood amidst the bustling chicken coop, her slender hands gripping a worn, wooden ladle as she scattered feed across the ground. The chickens clucked and pecked at the morsels, their frenetic movements a stark contrast to Jess’s measured pace. Her eyes darted between the birds and the horizon, where the sun cast its first golden rays over the lush farmland. As much as her body carried out the familiar tasks with practiced efficiency, her mind wandered into the realm of unspoken desires.
“Jess!” The commanding voice of Geralt, her father, cut through the morning air like a whip. With broad shoulders and a rugged face lined by years of toil on the land, he stood at the entrance of the farmhouse, his stern gaze fixed on his daughter. “It’s time for you to tend to the cows. Their well-being is vital for our farm’s success.”
Jess paused her work, taking a deep breath before nodding in acquiescence. She couldn’t deny the truth in his words; the cows were the lifeblood of their livelihood. As she approached the cow barn, Jess’s thoughts veered towards her relationship with Geralt. It was a constant struggle between seeking his approval and asserting her independence. Though his love for her was evident, so was his possessiveness—a fact that left Jess yearning for something more.
Inside the cow barn, she felt the weight of Geralt’s gaze lift slightly. The soothing sound of contented cows chewing their cud filled the air, and Jess allowed herself a brief moment of respite. She watched the cows graze with a strange mix of fascination and envy—these creatures seemed so free from restraint, so uninhibited. Was it possible for her to experience that same liberation?
“Remember, Jess,” Geralt’s voice echoed in the barn, a hint of authority seeping into his tone. “The closer you are to the cows, the more you’ll understand them. Study their behavior and learn from it.”
Jess’s curiosity was piqued, and she found herself drawn in by his suggestion. The notion of freedom swirled within her, igniting a flame of rebellion that had lain dormant for far too long.
“Alright, Father,” Jess replied hesitantly, her voice laced with uncertainty. She knew Geralt’s requests bordered on the unusual, but something within her compelled her to consider them. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a world beyond the rigid confines of her life on the farm. A world where she could be free to explore her desires and shed the constraints of her father’s expectations.
As Jess began to spend more time observing the cows, she couldn’t help but feel an inexplicable connection to them. Though her actions felt foreign, she reveled in the sense of freedom they brought her. Embracing her newfound affinity for these creatures and the life they represented, Jess vowed to uncover the secrets hidden beneath the surface of her existence. And as she stood alone in the fields, her body tingling with anticipation and trepidation, she knew that she had taken the first step into the unknown—a journey that would change her life forever.
Jess reluctantly turned her gaze away from the horizon, a vision of untamed adventures beyond the farm consuming her thoughts. She sighed, feeling the weight of Geralt’s expectations bearing down upon her. With each step toward the cow barn, her heart raced with anticipation and a yearning she couldn’t quite understand.
“Alright, Father,” Jess murmured, taking a deep breath as she pushed open the doors to the barn.
Inside the dimly lit space, the cows grazed peacefully, their contented munching an intoxicating symphony that filled the air. The scent of hay and musk enveloped her, further fueling her desire for something more than this mundane existence. Jess observed them with a mix of fascination and envy, her body tingling with a confusing concoction of excitement and frustration.
“Such simple creatures,” she whispered to herself, her fingers grazing a nearby cow’s soft hide. “Free from the burdens and expectations that weigh me down.”
As she stood there, mesmerized by the gentle sway of the cows’ tails and the rhythm of their chewing, Jess felt an overwhelming urge overtake her. The farm’s rustic atmosphere, coupled with her unfulfilled desires, awakened an intense hunger within her – a primal need for self-exploration and pleasure.
“Maybe… just this once,” Jess thought, tentatively reaching beneath her skirt. Her fingers found the damp heat between her legs, and she gasped, surprised by her own daring. Emboldened by the cows’ oblivious presence, she began to touch herself, her breathing growing erratic as she imagined herself as one of them – a creature of pure, uninhibited instinct.
“Ugh, yes…” Jess moaned softly, her fingers delving deeper into her wet folds, the sensation of her own touch sending electric jolts through her body. Her eyes remained fixed on the cows, her mind racing with images of herself among them, grazing and submitting to her most primal urges without a hint of shame.
“Come on, Jess… give in…” she urged herself, nails digging into her own flesh as she rubbed her clit with increasing intensity. The cows’ rhythmic chewing seemed to amplify the raw pleasure coursing through her veins, propelling her closer and closer to the edge.
“Ah… ah… yes!” Jess cried out, unable to contain her ecstasy any longer. Waves of orgasmic bliss washed over her, leaving her trembling with satisfaction and yearning for more. As she leaned against one of the cows for support, her chest heaving, she knew that she’d crossed a threshold from which there was no return.
“Thank you,” Jess whispered to the cow beside her, her eyes filled with gratitude and a newfound understanding of the freedom they represented. And in that moment, she vowed to embrace her desires, no matter how taboo or forbidden they might be.
Her body still humming with pleasure, Jess left the barn – her mind filled with thoughts of adventure beyond the farm and the promise of self-discovery that awaited her.
Geralt’s boots echoed against the wooden floor as he entered the barn, his stern gaze fixed on Jess. The scent of hay and earth filled the air, mixing with the heady aroma of the cows that surrounded her.
“Jess,” Geralt said in a voice laced with authority, “I want you to spend more time here with the cows. Observe their behavior, learn from them.”
She looked at him, surprised by the request but curious nonetheless. Jess had always been drawn to the idea of freedom, something she felt the cows embodied – their unhurried grazing and simple existence seemed to hold a hidden allure.
“Alright, father,” Jess replied tentatively, her heart racing at the prospect of spending more time among the peaceful animals.
Over the next few days, Jess became increasingly captivated by the cows. She watched them intently, mimicking their movements, trying to understand what it was about their lives that spoke to her so deeply. As she grazed alongside them, Jess experienced an exhilarating sense of liberation – a taste of the world beyond the farm that she so desperately craved.
“Am I really finding solace in this?” Jess wondered, her thoughts a tangled mix of confusion and fascination. “But it feels… thrilling.”
Her connection with the cows grew stronger, bolstered by the hours spent observing their interactions and attempting to decipher their primal language. Jess felt an inexplicable kinship with the animals, their raw, unapologetic existence resonating within her own restless spirit.
“Maybe there’s something more here, something I’m meant to discover,” Jess mused, her curiosity piqued by this newfound connection.
As the days turned into weeks, Jess found herself completely immersed in the world of the cows, her body and mind adapting to their sensual, uncomplicated ways. She began to experiment further, testing the limits of her desires and embracing the erotic freedom that the animals seemed to offer.
“Can I really give in to this side of myself?” Jess questioned, her thoughts racing as she lay among the cows, their rhythmic breathing lulling her into a trance-like state.
Her curiosity and longing for adventure pushed her towards the taboo, her fingers wandering over her body as she imagined herself submitting to her primal instincts, just like the cows. The intensity of her arousal was undeniable, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she explored the depths of her desires.
“Jess…” Geralt’s voice broke through her reverie, his eyes dark with an unspoken knowledge of what she’d been doing.
“Father, I…” Jess stammered, her face flushed with embarrassment.
“Continue,” Geralt commanded, his voice firm and authoritative. “Learn from them. Embrace your desires.”
With a mix of trepidation and excitement, Jess continued down the forbidden path, her heart pounding as she ventured deeper into the world of her darkest fantasies. And as she surrendered to the all-consuming allure of the hucow lifestyle, Jess could feel the chains of her old life falling away, replaced by a sense of unparalleled freedom and ecstasy.
The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows over the fields as Geralt approached Jess, who was still engrossed in observing the cows. Her eyes sparkled with fascination, her body language brimming with a newfound sense of freedom.
“Jess,” Geralt called out, his voice laced with authority. “I’ve been watching you, and I’m glad to see you’re taking an interest in the cows.”
She looked up, her cheeks flushed from the excitement of her earlier self-exploration. “Yes, Father, they’re amazing creatures.”
“Indeed,” he replied, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “But there’s more to learn if you truly want to understand them. You must adopt their habits, live as they do.”
“Live… like a cow?” Jess asked, confusion clouding her face.
“Exactly,” Geralt said firmly. “Graze in the fields, drink from a trough instead of using a glass. Become one with them.”
“Father, that seems… odd,” she responded hesitantly, her brow furrowed in uncertainty.
“Trust me, Jess,” Geralt insisted, locking eyes with her. “This is how you’ll truly connect with the animals and find the freedom you seek.”
Jess swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she considered her father’s strange request. She couldn’t deny the allure of the idea, the prospect of breaking free from his control and embracing her own desires. But could she really take such a drastic step?
“Alright, Father,” she murmured, her voice wavering with equal parts curiosity and rebellion. “I’ll try it.”
“Good girl,” Geralt praised, a hint of satisfaction coloring his tone. “You won’t regret it.”
As Jess stepped out into the field, her body trembling with anticipation, she felt a surge of exhilaration at the thought of defying her father’s expectations. She crouched down and hesitantly nibbled at the grass, her pulse quickening as she embraced the dehumanizing act.
“Drink from the trough,” Geralt urged, his voice firm yet encouraging.
With a mixture of reluctance and curiosity, Jess approached the trough and lapped at the water like a cow, feeling both humiliated and strangely liberated. The cold liquid splashed across her face, leaving her shivering and gasping for breath.
“Good,” Geralt said, nodding in approval. “Now touch yourself.”
Jess’s eyes widened, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her veins at the thought of indulging in her most primal desires once more. As she slid her fingers between her legs, she felt the rough bark of the nearby fence pressing into her back, heightening her arousal even further.
“Harder,” Geralt commanded, and Jess obeyed, her moans echoing through the barn as she lost herself in the sensations. With each stroke, she delved deeper into the hucow fantasy that had taken hold of her, her mind consumed by images of surrendering to an existence driven solely by pleasure and instinct.
“Keep going,” Geralt insisted, his voice growing more intense as he watched Jess succumb to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy. And as she writhed against the fence, her body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm, Jess knew there was no turning back. She had chosen a path that would forever change her life, a journey into the unknown where anything could happen.
“Jess,” Geralt called out, his voice echoing through the barn, “you need to truly know the cows if you want to be part of this farm’s success.” He stood tall, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest.
Jess blinked, trying to make sense of her father’s words. She felt a mix of fear and curiosity as she regarded him. “What do you mean, Father?”
“Look at these creatures,” he said, sweeping his hand toward the cows. “They have a purpose, a simple life dictated by their instincts. There’s something powerful in that, Jess.”
“Powerful?” she questioned, her heart racing with uncertainty.
“Yes,” Geralt replied, his eyes narrowing. “I want you to experience that power, Jess. You must learn from them, become one with them. This will not only benefit the farm but also help you discover who you really are.”
As Jess listened to her father’s insistence, she found herself torn between her desire for independence and her love for him. Could embracing this strange request lead her to find her true identity? And even if it did, was it worth sacrificing her humanity?
“Alright, Father,” Jess said, her voice wavering. “I’ll try.”
“Good,” Geralt replied, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. “Now, I want you to touch yourself, right here in front of the cows.”
“Wha- what?” Jess stammered, taken aback by the sudden command. But as she looked into Geralt’s eyes, she saw the determination there, the conviction that this was necessary for her growth.
“Go on,” he urged, his tone commanding.
Jess hesitated for a moment, then, with trembling hands, she reached beneath her skirt. As her fingers grazed her sensitive skin, she immediately felt the heat rise within her. She glanced around nervously, but the cows seemed unfazed, continuing to chew their cud as if nothing were amiss.
“Focus on the sensations,” Geralt instructed, watching her intently. “Let go of your inhibitions and embrace the raw pleasure.”
Jess closed her eyes, trying to block out her surroundings. She began to move her fingers more purposefully, her breathing growing heavier with each stroke. As she delved deeper into the sensations, she felt an odd connection to the cows, a sense of unity that both frightened and exhilarated her.
“Harder, Jess,” Geralt commanded, his voice rough with urgency. “Submit to the pleasure, just like the cows do.”
Her body slick with sweat, Jess obeyed, her moans echoing through the barn as she lost herself in the overwhelming waves of ecstasy. The line between woman and animal blurred in her mind, as she sought to comprehend her new identity.
“Keep going,” Geralt insisted, his voice taking on a more commanding tone. He emphasizes the importance of understanding the cows on a deeper level and hints at the potential benefits it could bring to the farm.
“Alright, Father,” Jess said, her voice wavering. “I’ll try.”
“Good,” Geralt replied, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. “Now, I want you to touch yourself, right here in front of the cows.”
“Wha- what?” Jess stammered, taken aback by the sudden command. But as she looked into Geralt’s eyes, she saw the determination there, the conviction that this was necessary for her growth.
“Go on,” he urged, his tone commanding.
“Keep going,” Geralt insisted, his voice growing more intense as he watched Jess succumb to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy. And as she writhed against the fence, her body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm, Jess knew there was no turning back. She had chosen a path that would forever change her life, a journey into the unknown where anything could happen.
The sun blazed overhead as Jess stood in the fields, her body slick with sweat. The cows grazed peacefully around her, their tails swishing lazily against their flanks. With a deep breath, she lowered herself to the ground, mimicking the animals’ posture and allowing her hands to explore the tender grass beneath her.
“Father was right,” she thought, her heart pounding in her chest. “There’s something freeing about this… about embracing my inner animal.” She plucked a blade of grass from the earth and hesitantly placed it between her lips. As she began to chew, an unexpected thrill coursed through her veins.
For days, Jess had been following Geralt’s strange requests. She found herself spending hours among the cows, observing their habits and even imitating them. She drank water from a trough, feeling both liberated and uneasy as she let go of her human inhibitions.
“Jess,” Geralt called out from the edge of the field, his voice sharp. “Don’t forget to massage your breasts while you graze.”
“Of course, Father,” she replied, her fingers already finding their way to her nipples. A mixture of shame and excitement washed over her as she pinched and tugged, the sensitive nubs hardening under her touch. Her breaths grew heavy, and she felt a familiar heat growing between her legs.
“Good girl,” Geralt praised, watching her movements with a stern expression. “Keep at it, and don’t be afraid to explore deeper sensations.”
“Deeper?” Jess whispered, her mind racing with possibilities. But as she glanced around at the cows surrounding her, she knew what he meant. Her hand slipped down her body, her fingers tracing the outline of her sex before plunging inside.
“Y-yes, Father,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as she gave in to her carnal desires. Her fingers moved in rhythm with her grazing, the dual sensations of submission and pleasure blending into one intoxicating experience.
As Jess continued to touch herself, her body writhing in the grass, she felt a connection forming with the cows around her. The line between human and animal seemed to blur, and she wondered if this was what Geralt had wanted all along – for her to truly understand the creatures that were so crucial to their farm’s success.
“Jess,” Geralt ordered, his tone firm. “Remember to make those moos I taught you. Let them know you’re one of them.”
“Father…” she hesitated, but ultimately complied. With each thrust of her fingers, she let out a low, guttural moo, the sound echoing through the fields. The cows looked up, curiosity gleaming in their eyes as they regarded her with newfound interest.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jess found herself alone in the field, her body tingling with a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. She had embraced her inner cow, delving deep into her own desires, but at what cost? As she contemplated the path she’d chosen, she couldn’t help but wonder what unknown adventures lay ahead, and what dark secrets lurked just beneath the surface of her newfound identity.
The moon cast a silvery glow over the fields, illuminating Jess’s heaving chest as she lay among the cows. Her heart raced, her thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and desire.
“Are you really going to deny yourself this pleasure?” Geralt’s voice echoed in her mind, his words dripping with temptation. “You’ve already come so far.”
As if possessed by an unseen force, Jess’s hand slipped down her body, her fingers finding the slick, wet heat between her thighs. She trembled at the forbidden thrill of it all, her moans mingling with the cows’ gentle snuffling. She was no longer just Jess; she was something else entirely – a creature of both human and animal desires.
“Damn you, Geralt,” she thought bitterly, even as her fingers plunged deeper inside herself. “Why must you confuse me like this?”
“Because I know what you truly want,” his voice whispered seductively in her head. “And I’ll be damned if I let you continue to live a lie.”
“Father…” Jess gasped, unable to resist the call of her own carnal appetites. The sensation of being watched heightened her arousal further, like a fire consuming her from within. She caressed her breasts, her nipples hardening beneath her fingertips, her moans growing louder, more primal.
“Yessss, that’s it,” Geralt’s voice urged her on. “Let go of your inhibitions, Jess. Embrace your true nature. Become the hucow you were always meant to be.”
“Stop it!” she cried out, the words torn from her throat in a guttural sob. Yet, despite her protests, she couldn’t deny the twisted pleasure that his words brought her. Shame and lust waged war within her, and she knew, deep down, that there could be only one victor.
Suddenly, movement caught her eye – a shadowy figure in the distance, barely visible against the backdrop of the moonlit fields. The sight sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.
“Who’s there?” she called out, her voice quivering with fear. But the figure remained silent, like a harbinger of dark secrets yet to be revealed.
“Jess,” Geralt’s voice whispered again, his tone urgent. “Don’t be afraid. Trust me, and let go.”
“Father…” Jess hesitated, torn between her fear of the unknown and her overwhelming need for release. As her fingers continued their intimate dance, she could feel herself teetering on the edge of an abyss – one that threatened to swallow her whole if she dared to take the plunge.
“Let go,” Geralt repeated, his words now a relentless command. And as the mysterious figure drew closer, its true nature concealed by darkness, Jess found herself unable to resist any longer.
“Fine!” she cried out, surrendering to the torrent of pleasure that threatened to consume her. She plunged her fingers deeper inside herself, her moans growing louder, more desperate as the cows around her watched with unblinking eyes – witnesses to her ultimate descent into depravity.
“Yessss,” Geralt hissed triumphantly. “That’s my girl.”
As Jess writhed in the throes of her orgasm, her body trembling and slick with sweat, she could no longer ignore the truth. She had chosen this path, and there would be no turning back. The mysterious figure loomed ever closer, its presence a chilling reminder of the dark secrets that awaited her – secrets she would soon be forced to confront, whether she was ready or not.

Jess groaned and stretched, her milk-heavy breasts swaying as she rolled over in the cozy confines of her small bed. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on her flushed face. It was time to start another long day on the farm, and she couldn’t escape the gnawing hunger between her thighs. Reluctantly, she pushed away the remnants of her latest dream, which had been filled with images of being mated to a powerful bull, its thick cock plunging into her needy cunt.
She swung her plump, bovine-like legs out of bed, her swollen udders swaying with every movement. Jess quickly donned her worn-out overalls, satisfying herself with a rough tug on one engorged teat before fastening the frayed fabric around her rotund belly. Today, she thought, she’d prove to Geralt that she was a model hucow, a worthy addition to his herd.
Eager to start her chores, Jess clambered down the creaking stairs, her heavy udders swaying with each step, and headed straight to her stall. There, she began to masturbate, her rough fingers working her aching slit as she fantasized about being taken roughly by the herd bull. Moans of pleasure escaped her as she imagined the hot, thick spurts of cum filling her womb, impregnating her once more.
As she worked, Jess daydreamed about the upcoming breeding season, where she’d be paired with the strongest bull on the farm. Her mind filled with images of him mounting her, his massive tool splitting her swollen folds as he took her without restraint. She could almost feel his cock sliding deep inside her cunt, her walls stretching to accommodate his girth.
With a final, shuddering orgasm, Jess’s juices spilled onto the hay-strewn floor. Panting, she returned to her chores, her thoughts consumed by the day’s end when Geralt would inspect her progress. She prayed she’d please him, for the alternative was too much to bear.
As she went about her work, Jess caught sight of herself in the stable’s dusty mirror, and a blush crept into her cheeks. Her reflection showed a curvaceous hucow, her udders, and ass even more swollen than the day before. The rough fabric of her overalls was damp with her arousal, evidence of her sky-high libido. It was time.
Jess sauntered over to the milking machine, her voluptuous hips swaying in time with her steps. She straddled the cool, unyielding metal and impaled herself on the waiting teat, moaning as it penetrated her depths. With a sigh of relief, she began to pump, her swollen udders spurting out a torrent of warm, foamy milk.
The machine whirred to life, its cold, impersonal touch mimicking the attention she craved from the bulls. Jess’s thoughts drifted to Geralt’s impending visit, his firm hand on her flank, his eyes boring into hers as he inspected her progress. She moaned, her lithe fingers straying to her swollen pussy, rubbing at the sensitive nub as the machine’s rhythmic sucking sent her over the edge once more.
Panting, Jess dismounted from the milking machine, her udders now visibly deflated. She checked the milk container’s level; her quota had been surpassed. It was enough to warrant a reward, but the real prize would be Geralt’s approval. Tonight, she vowed, she’d give him a show he’d never forget.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of chores and fantasies. Her mind was consumed by thoughts of Geralt, of his strong hands on her soft, cow-like body. She daydreamed about him tossing her over the hay bale, breeding her like the animal she’d become. Jess shivered with longing, her engorged udders swaying with each fantasy-fueled shudder.
Finally, the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of the day’s work. Jess quickly cleaned herself up, or rather, as best as one could in the rustic washroom. She donned her tightest, most revealing dress, its hemline barely grazing her thighs. She wanted to look her best for her father—for her master.
As she made her way to the barn, the pounding of her heart drowned out the ambient noises of the farm. The time had come to see if her efforts had paid off and if she’d proven herself worthy of her father’s approval.
Jess entered the barn, her eyes immediately drawn to the new stall at the far end. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. She could smell the musk of fresh hay, the earthy scent of the farm, and something else—something primal, animalistic.
Geralt turned, his eyes widening with lust upon laying eyes on his transformed daughter. Jess could practically feel his gaze traveling over every inch of her, lingering on her swollen breasts and distended belly.
“Jess,” he purred, his voice thick with desire, “you’ve done well, my pet. Come here, let me see how well you’ve grown.”
Jess eagerly lumbered forward, her udder swinging with each heavy step. She knelt before him, eyes cast downward in submission.
“Look at me,” Geralt commanded, running a rough hand down her cheek, slowly caressing her swollen udder. “You’ve become everything I’ve ever wanted, Jess. You’re a credit to this farm.”
Jess’s heart swelled with pride, her body trembling with need.
“Now, my dear, it’s time for your reward,” Geralt purred, unbuckling his trousers, his engorged cock springing free.
Jess’s eyes widened, her mouth watering at the sight of her father’s massive girth. Her hucow training had prepared her for this very moment, and she was desperate to prove herself an obedient slut. She leaned forward, taking his cock between her swollen lips, suckling hungrily on the swollen head.
“That’s my good girl,” Geralt moaned, thrusting his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into her warm, milk-soaked mouth. “Take it all, Jess. Show me what a good hucow you’ve become.”
Jess moaned around his cock, her tongue swirling around his shaft as she took him deeper, her greedy lips sliding down his length. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she felt him stretching her jaw, her training urging her onward. Her pussy throbbed, her swollen nipples aching for attention.
“Mmm, yes,” Geralt moaned, gripping her head roughly, “you’ve learned so well. Now, time for your true test.”
With a swift motion, he pulled her off his cock, flipping her onto her hands and knees. With one hand, he spread her cheeks apart, revealing her abused, glistening hole.
“Time to see if you’ve learned your lesson,” he growled, positioning his cock at her sphincter.
Jess whimpered in anticipation, her body trembling in both fear and eager anticipation.
“Relax, my pet,” he purred, “this is your purpose now. Take it, and I’ll reward you with the sweetest milk your swollen teats have ever tasted.”
Dripping with both sweat and arousal, Jess nodded, tears streaming down her face as she relaxed.
“Good girl,” he praised, and then, with a single, merciless thrust, he entered her tight, untouched passage.
Jess screamed in pain and ecstasy, her walls clenching around his invading cock. She’d never felt so full, so utterly claimed. Her pussy throbbed, aching for attention, and her breasts spilled milk onto the hay-covered floor.
“That’s it, my little hucow,” Geralt growled, pounding into her relentlessly. “Squeeze my cock with that tight ass, squeeze it like you do the udder of a prize-winning cow.”
Jess moaned in response, her mind spinning with the dual sensations of pain and pleasure. She felt degraded but aroused beyond belief.
Geralt’s thrusts became even more frenzied, his balls slapping against her ass cheeks as he pistoned into her. Jess could feel her climax building, the mix of pain and humiliation sending her over the edge.
“Cum for me, my filthy hucow,” he growled, “cum on my cock and I’ll give you what you so desperately crave.”
With those words, Jess’s orgasm hit her like a freight train, her pussy clenching as she came, spraying her juices onto the dirt floor.
“That’s it, my precious heifer,” Geralt growled, his own climax building, “milk this cock the way you milked your cows.”
Jess felt his hot seed spilling inside her, filling her womb, marking her as his. As he collapsed on top of her, spent, she could smell the musky scent of their mingled climaxes, the scent of hay and sweat, and the earthy undertones of the barn.
As they lay there, panting for breath, Jess knew that nothing would ever be the same between them. She’d crossed a line she couldn’t come back from. Yet, as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t want to.
For the first time in her life, she felt truly alive.
As Jess and Geralt finished their frantic coupling, they returned to their chores, side by side. Jess’s cheeks flushed with shame but also a secret thrill. As she milked the cows, her mind kept drifting back to the rough encounter in the hayloft, the way it had both disgusted and aroused her.
Geralt noticed her distraction but said nothing. He’d always known she’d come around eventually, that the farm life was in her blood, even if it took a firm hand to bring it out.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jess and Geralt headed back to the house, their chores done for the day. The unspoken tension between them palpable, the memory of their encounter hanging heavy in the air.
That night, as Jess lay in her bed, unable to sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. She knew in her heart that nothing would ever be the same between them again.
Her hand drifted down between her legs, seeking out the throbbing ache that hadn’t subsided since their encounter in the hayloft. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as she recalled the way Geralt’s rough hands had molded her flesh, reducing her to nothing more than a hucow for his pleasure.
In the privacy of her room, she gave in to the darkness within her, imagining herself as one of the cows in their herd, willing and wanting to be used by any beast that came her way. Her fingers slipped and slid over her aching nipples, pinching and twisting as she thought about the degradation, the loss of control that had filled her earlier.
As her orgasm crashed over her, she moaned into her pillow, her back arching off the bed, imagining it was Geralt’s cock spurting his seed deep within her, marking her as his property.
In the morning, Jess awoke with a start, her sheets drenched and her cheeks flushed. She couldn’t help but wonder what the day would bring, and if her and Geralt’s secret would ever come to light. Shaking away her thoughts, she donned her clothes, determined to put the incident behind her. But as she left her room, a stray strand of hay clung to her hair, a secret reminder of the hucow inside her yearning to be let free again.
As the days passed, Jess threw herself into her chores with renewed vigor, determined to prove her worth as a farmer’s daughter. But the memory of that fateful day haunted her, the degradation and humiliation mixing with an unfamiliar fire that left her aching for more.
It was during one such day, as she mended a fence, her mind wandering to the cool touch of leather on her flushed skin, that she didn’t notice Geralt approach until he was upon her. His eyes, cold and hard, bore into her as he assessed her work.
“Jess,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “I know you’re hiding something. What’s happened to my sweet little Jess?”
The fear in her eyes gave her away, and Geralt’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “We need to have a talk,” he said, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her back to the barn.
As the door slammed shut behind them, Jess knew she was in for another lesson she’d never forget.
The dusty, musky air of the barn enveloped them, the scents of hay and sweat mingling with the heady aroma of arousal that lingered in the air. Jess trembled as Geralt pushed her against the rough wood of the stall wall, his eyes boring into hers.
“I know what you’ve been thinking about, hucow,” he spat, his voice husky with lust. “I can smell your need for this.”
Before she could protest, Geralt’s calloused hands were everywhere, roughly groping her swelling breasts, squeezing the heavy globes until her nipples hardened to aching peaks. Jess moaned, her body betraying her as it responded to his crude touch.
“Shh, little cow,” he purred in her ear, “let it out. I know how much you want this.”
With one swift motion, he hiked up her skirt, exposing her soaked panties, evidence of her secret desires. Jess blushed crimson, but the shame only seemed to heighten her arousal.
“Bend over, Jess,” he ordered, positioning her over a hay bale. She complied, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. This wasn’t right, she thought, and yet her body craved more.
The first strike of the leather strap against her round ass sent a sharp jolt of pain and pleasure through her, and Jess moaned, arching her back. The stinging sensation was soon replaced by a deep, throbbing heat, and she rocked back against the stall wall, her slick folds throbbing against the rough wood.
“That’s it, hucow,” Geralt growled, spanking her ass mercilessly, “take your punishment.”
As the last smack echoed through the barn, Jess felt herself teetering on the edge of release. The mix of pain and pleasure was too much to bear, and with a wail, she came, her pussy clenching around nothingness as she rode out her orgasmic storm.
Geralt’s low chuckle filled her ears as he unbuckled his pants, freeing his massive, engorged cock. “Now it’s my turn, hucow. Prepare yourself.”
Jess whimpered in anticipation, her core throbbing in need of the relief only he could provide. And with a single, forceful thrust, he plunged into her depths, claiming her as his own, as her moans filled the musty air of the barn.
His hips slapped against her ass, a cacophony of flesh on flesh, and the sound of her milking machine like sweet music to her ears. Her cream mixed with his seed, both of them moaning as they found release together, connected in the most primal way possible.
At that moment, Jess knew there was no escaping her fate. She was the hucow of this farm, and she would spend the rest of her days fulfilling her father’s darkest desires. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn’t have it any other way. The End.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the farm in a warm, golden glow, Jess and Geralt finished up their work for the day. Their bodies were weary but satisfied; the labor had sapped their energy but left them with a sense of accomplishment. Jess couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride in her aching muscles, knowing she’d done her part to keep the farm running.
“You done good today, hucow,” Geralt grunted, patting her sweat-soaked back as they ambled toward the farmhouse. “Now, go on and clean yourself up. Dinner’s in an hour.”
“Yes, Pa,” Jess replied meekly, trudging to her bedroom, her mind still swirling with the day’s events.
Collapsing onto her creaking bed, Jess kicked off her dirty overalls, revealing her flushed, sore body. She was filthy from head to toe, her chapped breasts and reddened crotch testament to her day’s work. Yet, beneath the grime, she felt… alive. Alive in a way she’d never felt before, as if she’d finally found her place in this world—in the arms of her demanding, possessive father.
As she fell asleep, Jess’s dreams were once again filled with longing for a life beyond the farm, but now, they were tinged with a newfound understanding. For better or worse, she was Geralt’s hucow, and this was her life.
As the sun sank below the horizon, Jess found herself waking from a fitful slumber, her slit throbbing with an insatiable need. Moaning softly, she slid her hand between her thighs, fingers slick with her arousal.
In her mind’s eye, she saw the bull’s lustful stare, its thick, pulsing cock straining against the fence. Jess imagined it was her father’s, that it was his cock she was stroking, as they’d done in the barn.
“Faster, Pa,” she whimpered, her cries muffled by her pillow. “Fuck me… use me… make me your hucow.”
Jess’s fingers flew faster, each stroke more desperate than the last. Her back arched off the bed, hips bucking wildly as she chased an elusive climax. All the while, her thoughts remained fixated on Geralt, his domineering presence in her life both terrifying and arousing.
“Yes… yes!” she screamed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, her muscles clenching around nothing but air. “Oh, Pa… make me your hucow… use me… use me!”
Panting, Jess collapsed onto the damp sheets, spent. She knew the morning would bring more hard work… and even harder decisions. But for now, lost in the haze of endorphins, she allowed herself to dream of a life she’d never have… with a man she could never have… as nothing more than a hucow on a rural farm.
As sleep claimed her, the last image in her mind was of Geralt’s lustful grin and the terrifying, exhilarating thought of what tomorrow might bring.
Jess awoke with a start, her body slick with sweat and her chest heaving. Squinting through one eye, she squinted at the alarm clock: 6:00 AM. She groaned, knowing she had one hour before Geralt would expect her in the barn.
As she lay in bed, her mind replayed the previous night’s dream, the vivid images of her father’s lustful grin and his commanding presence. Jess shuddered, her need growing. She reached for her drenched core, slipping two fingers inside herself, moaning as memories of the bull’s throbbing cock invaded her mind.
In her fantasy, Bane, her neighbor’s hulking bull, towered over her, his dark eyes filled with lust. His massive cock, engorged and throbbing, teased her swollen entrance. Jess moaned, pushing back against the imaginary beast, begging for more.
In her hand, she worked herself faster, desperate to reach climax before her time ran out. Her moans grew louder, blending with the moos escaping her lips. Her breasts bounced with her ministrations, leaking milk onto her stomach.
Lost in her depraved fantasy, Jess felt a presence behind her. Geralt. He’d caught her again. His rough hand grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. “Dirty whore,” he growled, spanking her ass. “I knew you’d be like this.” He unzipped his pants, revealing his semi-hard cock.
Jess whimpered, part arousal, part shame. “Moo!” she cried out instinctively as Geralt entered her from behind, thrusting his member deep inside her cunt.
Underneath him, she continued to play with herself, imagining Bane’s girthy cock claiming her tight cunt…

Jess groaned and stretched, her milk-heavy breasts swaying as she rolled over in the cozy confines of her small bed. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on her flushed face. It was time to start another long day on the farm, and she couldn’t escape the gnawing hunger between her thighs. Reluctantly, she pushed away the remnants of her latest dream, which had been filled with images of being mated to a powerful bull, its thick cock plunging into her needy cunt.
She swung her plump, bovine-like legs out of bed, her swollen udders swaying with every movement. Jess quickly donned her worn-out overalls, satisfying herself with a rough tug on one engorged teat before fastening the frayed fabric around her rotund belly. Today, she thought, she’d prove to Geralt that she was a model hucow, a worthy addition to his herd.
Eager to start her chores, Jess clambered down the creaking stairs, her heavy udders swaying with each step, and headed straight to her stall. There, she began to masturbate, her rough fingers working her aching slit as she fantasized about being taken roughly by the herd bull. Moans of pleasure escaped her as she imagined the hot, thick spurts of cum filling her womb, impregnating her once more.
As she worked, Jess daydreamed about the upcoming breeding season, where she’d be paired with the strongest bull on the farm. Her mind filled with images of him mounting her, his massive tool splitting her swollen folds as he took her without restraint. She could almost feel his cock sliding deep inside her cunt, her walls stretching to accommodate his girth.
With a final, shuddering orgasm, Jess’s juices spilled onto the hay-strewn floor. Panting, she returned to her chores, her thoughts consumed by the day’s end when Geralt would inspect her progress. She prayed she’d please him, for the alternative was too much to bear.
As she went about her work, Jess caught sight of herself in the stable’s dusty mirror, and a blush crept into her cheeks. Her reflection showed a curvaceous hucow, her udders, and ass even more swollen than the day before. The rough fabric of her overalls was damp with her arousal, evidence of her sky-high libido. It was time.
Jess sauntered over to the milking machine, her voluptuous hips swaying in time with her steps. She straddled the cool, unyielding metal, and impaled herself on the waiting teat, moaning as it penetrated her depths. With a sigh of relief, she began to pump, her swollen udders spurting out a torrent of warm, foamy milk.
The machine whirred to life, its cold, impersonal touch mimicking the attention she craved from the bulls. Jess’s thoughts drifted to Geralt’s impending visit, his firm hand on her flank, his eyes boring into hers as he inspected her progress. She moaned, her lithe fingers straying to her swollen pussy, rubbing at the sensitive nub as the machine’s rhythmic sucking sent her over the edge once more.
Panting, Jess dismounted from the milking machine, her udders now visibly deflated. She checked the milk container’s level; her quota had been surpassed. It was enough to warrant a reward, but the real prize would be Geralt’s approval. Tonight, she vowed, she’d give him a show he’d never forget.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of chores and fantasies. Her mind was consumed by thoughts of Geralt, of his strong hands on her soft, cow-like body. She daydreamed about him tossing her over the hay bale, breeding her like the animal she’d become. Jess shivered with longing, her engorged udders swaying with each fantasy-fueled shudder.
Finally, the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of the day’s work. Jess quickly cleaned herself up, or rather, as best as one could in the rustic washroom. She donned her tightest, most revealing dress, its hemline barely grazing her thighs. She wanted to look her best for her father—for her master.
As she made her way to the barn, the pounding of her heart drowned out the ambient noises of the farm. The time had come to see if her efforts had paid off and if she’d proven herself worthy of her father’s approval.
Jess entered the barn, her eyes immediately drawn to the new stall at the far end. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. She could smell the musk of fresh hay, the earthy scent of the farm, and something else—something primal, animalistic.
Geralt turned, his eyes widening with lust upon laying eyes on his transformed daughter. Jess could practically feel his gaze traveling over every inch of her, lingering on her swollen breasts and distended belly.
“Jess,” he purred, his voice thick with desire, “you’ve done well, my pet. Come here, let me see how well you’ve grown.”
Jess eagerly lumbered forward, her udder swinging with each heavy step. She knelt before him, eyes cast downward in submission.
“Look at me,” Geralt commanded, running a rough hand down her cheek, slowly caressing her swollen udder. “You’ve become everything I’ve ever wanted, Jess. You’re a credit to this farm.”
Jess’s heart swelled with pride, her body trembling with need.
“Now, my dear, it’s time for your reward,” Geralt purred, unbuckling his trousers, his engorged cock springing free.
Jess’s eyes widened, her mouth watering at the sight of her father’s massive girth. Her hucow training had prepared her for this very moment, and she was desperate to prove herself an obedient slut. She leaned forward, taking his cock between her swollen lips, suckling hungrily on the swollen head.
“That’s my good girl,” Geralt moaned, thrusting his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into her warm, milk-soaked mouth. “Take it all, Jess. Show me what a good hucow you’ve become.”
Jess moaned around his cock, her tongue swirling around his shaft as she took him deeper, her greedy lips sliding down his length. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she felt him stretching her jaw, her training urging her onward. Her pussy throbbed, her swollen nipples aching for attention.
“Mmm, yes,” Geralt moaned, gripping her head roughly, “you’ve learned so well. Now, time for your true test.”
With a swift motion, he pulled her off his cock, flipping her onto her hands and knees. With one hand, he spread her cheeks apart, revealing her abused, glistening hole.
“Time to see if you’ve learned your lesson,” he growled, positioning his cock at her sphincter.
Jess whimpered in anticipation, her body trembling in both fear and eager anticipation.
“Relax, my pet,” he purred, “this is your purpose now. Take it, and I’ll reward you with the sweetest milk your swollen teats have ever tasted.”
Dripping with both sweat and arousal, Jess nodded, tears streaming down her face as she relaxed.
“Good girl,” he praised, and then, with a single, merciless thrust, he entered her tight, untouched passage.
Jess screamed in pain and ecstasy, her walls clenching around his invading cock. She’d never felt so full, so utterly claimed. Her pussy throbbed, aching for attention, and her breasts spilled milk onto the hay-covered floor.
“That’s it, my little hucow,” Geralt growled, pounding into her relentlessly. “Squeeze my cock with that tight ass, squeeze it like you do the udder of a prize-winning cow.”
Jess moaned in response, her mind spinning with the dual sensations of pain and pleasure. She felt degraded but aroused beyond belief.
Geralt’s thrusts became even more frenzied, his balls slapping against her ass cheeks as he pistoned into her. Jess could feel her climax building, the mix of pain and humiliation sending her over the edge.
“Cum for me, my filthy hucow,” he growled, “cum on my cock and I’ll give you what you so desperately crave.”
With those words, Jess’s orgasm hit her like a freight train, her pussy clenching as she came, spraying her juices onto the dirt floor.
“That’s it, my precious heifer,” Geralt growled, his own climax building, “milk this cock the way you milked your cows.”
Jess felt his hot seed spilling inside her, filling her womb, marking her as his. As he collapsed on top of her, spent, she could smell the musky scent of their mingled climaxes, the scent of hay and sweat, and the earthy undertones of the barn.
As they lay there, panting for breath, Jess knew that nothing would ever be the same between them. She’d crossed a line she couldn’t come back from. Yet, as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t want to.
For the first time in her life, she felt truly alive.
As Jess and Geralt finished their frantic coupling, they returned to their chores, side by side. Jess’s cheeks flushed with shame but also a secret thrill. As she milked the cows, her mind kept drifting back to the rough encounter in the hayloft, the way it had both disgusted and aroused her.
Geralt noticed her distraction but said nothing. He’d always known she’d come around eventually, that the farm life was in her blood, even if it took a firm hand to bring it out.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jess and Geralt headed back to the house, their chores done for the day. The unspoken tension between them palpable, the memory of their encounter hanging heavy in the air.
That night, as Jess lay in her bed, unable to sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. She knew in her heart that nothing would ever be the same between them again.
Her hand drifted down between her legs, seeking out the throbbing ache that hadn’t subsided since their encounter in the hayloft. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as she recalled the way Geralt’s rough hands had molded her flesh, reducing her to nothing more than a hucow for his pleasure.
In the privacy of her room, she gave in to the darkness within her, imagining herself as one of the cows in their herd, willing and wanting to be used by any beast that came her way. Her fingers slipped and slid over her aching nipples, pinching and twisting as she thought about the degradation, the loss of control that had filled her earlier.
As her orgasm crashed over her, she moaned into her pillow, her back arching off the bed, imagining it was Geralt’s cock spurting his seed deep within her, marking her as his property.
In the morning, Jess awoke with a start, her sheets drenched and her cheeks flushed. She couldn’t help but wonder what the day would bring, and if her and Geralt’s secret would ever come to light. Shaking away her thoughts, she donned her clothes, determined to put the incident behind her. But as she left her room, a stray strand of hay clung to her hair, a secret reminder of the hucow inside her yearning to be let free again.
As the days passed, Jess threw herself into her chores with renewed vigor, determined to prove her worth as a farmer’s daughter. But the memory of that fateful day haunted her, the degradation and humiliation mixing with an unfamiliar fire that left her aching for more.
It was during one such day, as she mended a fence, her mind wandering to the cool touch of leather on her flushed skin, that she didn’t notice Geralt approach until he was upon her. His eyes, cold and hard, bore into her as he assessed her work.
“Jess,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “I know you’re hiding something. What’s happened to my sweet little Jess?”
The fear in her eyes gave her away, and Geralt’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “We need to have a talk,” he said, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her back to the barn.
As the door slammed shut behind them, Jess knew she was in for another lesson she’d never forget.
The dusty, musky air of the barn enveloped them, the scents of hay and sweat mingling with the heady aroma of arousal that lingered in the air. Jess trembled as Geralt pushed her against the rough wood of the stall wall, his eyes boring into hers.
“I know what you’ve been thinking about, hucow,” he spat, his voice husky with lust. “I can smell your need for this.”
Before she could protest, Geralt’s calloused hands were everywhere, roughly groping her swelling breasts, squeezing the heavy globes until her nipples hardened to aching peaks. Jess moaned, her body betraying her as it responded to his crude touch.
“Shh, little cow,” he purred in her ear, “let it out. I know how much you want this.”
With one swift motion, he hiked up her skirt, exposing her soaked panties, evidence of her secret desires. Jess blushed crimson, but the shame only seemed to heighten her arousal.
“Bend over, Jess,” he ordered, positioning her over a hay bale. She complied, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. This wasn’t right, she thought, and yet her body craved more.
The first strike of the leather strap against her round ass sent a sharp jolt of pain and pleasure through her, and Jess moaned, arching her back. The stinging sensation was soon replaced by a deep, throbbing heat, and she rocked back against the stall wall, her slick folds throbbing against the rough wood.
“That’s it, hucow,” Geralt growled, spanking her ass mercilessly, “take your punishment.”
As the last smack echoed through the barn, Jess felt herself teetering on the edge of release. The mix of pain and pleasure was too much to bear, and with a wail, she came, her pussy clenching around nothingness as she rode out her orgasmic storm.
Geralt’s low chuckle filled her ears as he unbuckled his pants, freeing his massive, engorged cock. “Now it’s my turn, hucow. Prepare yourself.”
Jess whimpered in anticipation, her core throbbing in need of the relief only he could provide. And with a single, forceful thrust, he plunged into her depths, claiming her as his own, as her moans filled the musty air of the barn.
His hips slapped against her ass, a cacophony of flesh on flesh, and the sound of her milking machine like sweet music to her ears. Her cream mixed with his seed, both of them moaning as they found release together, connected in the most primal way possible.
In that moment, Jess knew there was no escaping her fate. She was the hucow of this farm, and she would spend the rest of her days fulfilling her father’s darkest desires. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn’t have it any other way. The End.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the farm in a warm, golden glow, Jess and Geralt finished up their work for the day. Their bodies were weary but satisfied, the labor having sapped their energy but leaving them with a sense of accomplishment. Jess couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride in her aching muscles, knowing she’d done her part to keep the farm running.
“You done good today, hucow,” Geralt grunted, patting her sweat-soaked back as they ambled toward the farmhouse. “Now, go on and clean yourself up. Dinner’s in an hour.”
“Yes, Pa,” Jess replied meekly, trudging to her bedroom, her mind still swirling with the day’s events.
Collapsing onto her creaking bed, Jess kicked off her dirty overalls, revealing her flushed, sore body. She was filthy from head to toe, her chapped breasts and reddened crotch testament to her day’s work. Yet, beneath the grime, she felt… alive. Alive in a way she’d never felt before, as if she’d finally found her place in this world—in the arms of her demanding, possessive father.
As she fell asleep, Jess’s dreams were once again filled with longing for a life beyond the farm, but now, they were tinged with a newfound understanding. For better or worse, she was Geralt’s hucow, and this was her life.
As the sun sank below the horizon, Jess found herself waking from a fitful slumber, her slit throbbing with an insatiable need. Moaning softly, she slid her hand between her thighs, fingers slick with her arousal.
In her mind’s eye, she saw the bull’s lustful stare, its thick, pulsing cock straining against the fence. Jess imagined it was her father’s, that it was his cock she was stroking, as they’d done in the barn.
“Faster, Pa,” she whimpered, her cries muffled by her pillow. “Fuck me… use me… make me your hucow.”
Jess’s fingers flew faster, each stroke more desperate than the last. Her back arched off the bed, hips bucking wildly as she chased an elusive climax. All the while, her thoughts remained fixated on Geralt, his domineering presence in her life both terrifying and arousing.
“Yes… yes!” she screamed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, her muscles clenching around nothing but air. “Oh, Pa… make me your hucow… use me… use me!”
Panting, Jess collapsed onto the damp sheets, spent. She knew the morning would bring more hard work… and even harder decisions. But for now, lost in the haze of endorphins, she allowed herself to dream of a life she’d never have… with a man she could never have… as nothing more than a hucow on a rural farm.
As sleep claimed her, the last image in her mind was of Geralt’s lustful grin and the terrifying, exhilarating thought of what tomorrow might bring.
Jess awoke with a start, her body slick with sweat and her chest heaving. Squinting through one eye, she squinted at the alarm clock: 6:00 AM. She groaned, knowing she had one hour before Geralt would expect her in the barn.
As she lay in bed, her mind replayed the previous night’s dream, the vivid images of her father’s lustful grin and his commanding presence. Jess shuddered, her need growing. She reached for her drenched core, slipping two fingers inside herself, moaning as memories of the bull’s throbbing cock invaded her mind.
In her fantasy, Bane, her neighbor’s hulking bull, towered over her, his dark eyes filled with lust. His massive cock, engorged and throbbing, teased her swollen entrance. Jess moaned, pushing back against the imaginary beast, begging for more.
In her hand, she worked herself faster, desperate to reach climax before her time ran out. Her moans grew louder, blending with the moos escaping her lips. Her breasts bounced with her ministrations, leaking milk onto her stomach.
Lost in her depraved fantasy, Jess felt a presence behind her. Geralt. He’d caught her again. His rough hand grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. “Dirty whore,” he growled, spanking her ass. “I knew you’d be like this.” He unzipped his pants, revealing his semi-hard cock.
Jess whimpered, part arousal, part shame. “Moo!” she cried out instinctively as Geralt entered her from behind, thrusting his member deep inside her cunt.
Underneath him, she continued to play with herself, imagining Bane’s girthy cock claiming her tight cunt…

Jess reluctantly stepped into the dimly lit barn, her footsteps echoing through the cavernous space. The familiar scents of hay, manure, and animal musk greeted her senses, evoking a mix of comfort and unease. She glanced around the shadowy interior, her eyes settling on the row of cows chewing lazily in their stalls. This was Geralt’s domain—a place where he reigned supreme, where she was both an interloper and a prize.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she crept closer to a vacant stall, its occupant likely grazing in the pasture. The sweet scent of alfalfa and hay filled the air, mixed with a muskier, earthier scent that made her cheeks burn. She eyed the wooden stall and the various contraptions hanging on the wall—Devices she only knew too well the purpose of.
Jess’s fingertips trembled as she reached out to stroke the smooth, varnished wood, her mind filling with visions of her own supple flesh pressed against the unforgiving surface. Moisture pooled between her legs, dampening her panties, and her nipples hardened.
Her hand moved to the other implements—rough, worn leather straps and chains, each with a story to tell, each one a testament to her submission and Geralt’s insatiable desires. There was a part of her that craved the freedom of being bound, of giving in to the animalistic lust that consumed her during their harrowing sessions.
She stepped into the stall, allowing the heavy door to fall shut behind her. Safe from prying eyes, she could now indulge in her secret fantasies. Jess’s hands shook as she unbuttoned her floral dress, letting it slide to the ground, revealing her creamy, milky-white skin and the cups of her bra—which she knew wasn’t enough to contain her heaving breasts.
With trembling fingers, she unclasped the front fastening and freed her aching, heavy breasts. They spilled out, bouncing forward, nipples hard and sensitive. Her fingertips traced circles around her areolas, causing goosebumps to prickle down her spine and a low moan to escape her lips.
In the dim light, she could almost see Geralt leering at her, his silver eyes glinting with lust and possession. Jess’s other hand slid down her abdomen, past her distended belly, and lower to the slick folds of her vagina.
She was sopping wet, her arousal coating her fingers as she circled her swollen clit. Images of Geralt’s stern gaze and the way he’d worshiped her body, his rough hands kneading her engorged udders, filled her mind. She retched as one hand moved to her aching breasts, pinching and squeezing the taut nubs in time with her ministrations.
The bathroom stall creaked under the weight of her writhing body as Jess’s orgasm approached like a wildfire, consuming her from the inside out.
“Oh, Geralt,” she moaned. “Take me. Please, take me.”
In her mind’s eye, she saw him towering over her, his chiseled features etched in lust and need. He grasped her hips, spreading her legs wide as he plunged deep into her dripping core. Jess’s back arched, her back slamming against the stall wall as wave upon wave of ecstasy crashed over her. Her moans filled the small space, bouncing off the tiled walls.
As she came down from her high, reality seeped in. Flushed and panting, Jess quickly cleaned up and redressed herself. She’d made her decision. Tonight, she’d confront her husband about her newfound desires, about the fantasies that haunted her day and night.
The house was dimly lit when Jess returned from work, the sun having dipped below the horizon during her drive home. Geralt’s truck was parked in the driveway, a good sign that he’d already tended to the cows for the night. Her stomach flipped with butterflies as she hung her keys on the rack and made her way to the kitchen.
“Hey, honey,” she called out, dropping her purse on the counter. “You home?”
An ominous silence descended upon the house, the only sound the ticking of the antique clock on the wall. Jess’s heart thudded in her chest, and her steps weighed down with apprehension as she ventured into the living room.
Sitting in the recliner was Geralt, sipping a cold one, his eyes narrowed. “Jessica,” he drawled, taking a slow drag from his cigar. “You’re late.”
“S-sorry, I… I had some paperwork to finish at the office.”
“Uh huh. I bet.” He thunked his beer can on the side table, the remaining suds sloshing over the rim.
“Geralt, we need to talk,” she blurted out, unable to bear the tension anymore.
“Oh, do we now?” He stood, towering over her, his presence overbearing and intimidating. “Well, I reckon we do have someth in’ to discuss, too.” He jabbed a meaty finger in her direction, spittle flying from his lips. “I been thinkin’ ’bout your… your behavior of late, and I ain’t too pleased with what I’ve been seein’.”
Jess’s heart raced as she stepped back, bumping into the wall. “W-what do you mean?”
“You’ve been actin’ mighty high and mighty lately, missy. As if you’re too good for this here farm, too good for your own blood.” He took a menacing step forward, trapping her against the wall. “I won’t have none a’ that.”
“Geralt, please… I didn’t mean—”
“You’ll show some damn respect for your elders,” he thundered, backhanding her across the face. Fresh pain erupted across her cheek, her vision swimming.
“Y-yes, Geralt. I-I’m sorry.” The words tasted like bile in her mouth.
“Damn right you’re sorry. Now, you’re gonna prove to me you still love this here farm, and your ma and pa’s memory, by earning your keep,” he growled, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her towards the barn.
Jess’s eyes widened as she realized his intentions, her stomach churning. “Geralt, no! We can’t … we’re—
“You been acting like you’re too good for this farm, for us,” he spat angrily, yanking her shirt up over her head, exposing her large, bountiful breasts. “Well, I’ll show you who’s in charge here.” Geralt’s pants were already bulging with arousal, but he didn’t care. He roughly groped her breasts, squeezing them hard enough to leave bruises. Jess whimpered and squirmed, trying to get away. “Shut up, you naughty little thing.” He growled, smacking her backside before roughly shoving his cock inside her. She screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she felt the cock she once loved, now a monstrous invader tearing her, stretching her too far.
“You’re mine, Jess,” he panted, animalistic lust in his eyes. “Mine to do as I please.” His hips slammed into hers, relentless in his claiming. Pain and pleasure melded together as her body betrayed her, juices flowing despite her protests.
“Yes, yes, Geralt,” she moaned, unable to hold back the words as her body gave in to him.
“That’s right, little slut,” he grunted, “admit it. You’re my slutty hucow, aren’t you?” He thrust his cock
Jess couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but they were true. As Geralt pounded into her, she felt a twisted sense of arousal, her body betraying her yet again. He was right; she was his hucow, and the thought both terrified and excited her. “Yes,” she moaned, “I’m yours… I’m your slutty hucow.”
Geralt groaned in response, pushing even deeper, his grip on her hips tightening. “That’s it, Jess, love. Milk my cock like the good cow you are.”
Jess’s back arched as she came undone, her orgasm crashing through her like a freight train, her cries of pleasure mingling with the sounds of the farm around them. Geralt grunted in satisfaction as he came inside her, filling her with his seed.
As they both panted for breath, Geralt pulled out of her, leaving her feeling empty and soiled. He smirked smugly, zipping up his pants. “Good girl,” he purred, running a finger along her swollen lips. “Now, get back to work. I expect those fields to be plowed by sundown, and the cows need milking.”
Jess didn’t bother to wipe the cum off her thighs as she stumbled back to the fields. A part of her died inside, but another part was already anticipating the next time she’d be on all fours, taken by her master. As she began to work, she couldn’t help but sneak glances at the cows, jealous of their seemingly simple lives.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Jess’s body changed at an alarming rate, her breasts swelling even more, her hips widening, and her ass jutting out. She was no longer the lithe, athletic girl she once was. Instead, she was now a curvy, voluptuous hucow, made for breeding and servitude.
One sweltering afternoon, unable to bear the heat any longer, Jess wandered into the barn, seeking solace in the shade. The cows watched her with their bored, languid eyes as she collapsed in the straw. She reached out a tentative hand to stroke one of their flanks, marveling at the coarseness of their fur under her palm.
As her fingers slid lower, she found herself mimicking their movements, stroking and squeezing her own engorged breasts. Her nipples were rock hard, aching for attention. Panting, she tugged and pinched them, her back arching as the sensations coursed through her body.
Her other hand found its way between her legs, delving under her shorts and into her sodden folds. Jess moaned as she rubbed herself roughly, her fingers slipping and sliding in her slickness. The smell of the barn, the heat, and the constant arousal finally sent her over the edge.
As she came, legs trembling and juices seeping onto the straw below, Jess knew that she was lost. She was no longer human but an animal, and this was now her life.
Geralt found her masturbating, moaning, and keening as she brought herself to climax. He was furious, but there was also an undeniable heat in his gaze. “Filthy whore,” he growled, grabbing her by the hair. “You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”
Jess whimpered, her arousal only heightening at his harsh words. She was wet and wanton, desperate for whatever he would give her. He bent her over the closest hay bale and roughly took her from behind, his thick cock spearing her to the core.
She screamed in pleasure-pain as he pounded into her, his grip on her hair tightening as he found his release. His hot seed sprayed deep inside her, marking her as his own.
Gasping for air, Jess knew there was no going back now. She was Geralt’s hucow, his plaything, and she had never been happier.
In the days that followed, Jess found herself drawn to the milking shed more and more. She loved the way the machines purred, the rhythmic motion of the farmhands’ hands, and the gentle lowing of the cows. It was soothing and hypnotic, and she began to crave the sensation of their rough hands on her swollen teats.
One day, unable to resist any longer, she approached one of the young farmhands, her eyes filled with need. He looked at her, surprise in his eyes, but he didn’t question her. Instead, he led her to an empty stall, where he roughly relieved her of her shirt, baring her heavy breasts.
Jess moaned as he attached the suction cups to her engorged nipples, the feeling of the cool metal sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She arched her back, offering herself to him, as he turned the machine on.
The sensation was divine. The pull of the machine, the rumble of the engine, and the warmth spreading between her legs as the milk began to flow. She could feel it running down her thighs, soaking the hay beneath her, and she’d never felt more alive.
As the days turned into weeks, Jess became a fixture in the milking shed. Her breasts swelled even more, and her body plumped up, lush and ripe. She’d never felt more alive, more at home than when she was being milked, either by machine or by the farmhands.
One day, the farmer approached her as she was in the milking stall, her breasts bouncing as the machine suckled her swollen teats. He looked at her with a hunger she’d never seen before. “You’ve become quite the hucow, haven’t you, Jess?” he purred, his hand running up her leg, squeezing her thigh.
Jess blushed, but she didn’t deny it. In this moment, she felt more herself than she’d ever been before. “I have,” she panted, her voice husky with desire, “and I’ve never felt better.”
The farmer’s grin widened, and he leaned in, his mouth finding her swollen nipple, suckling as greedily as his cows. Jess moaned, her back arching, her milk spraying the stall wall in a creamy fountain as she came, her body shuddering with an orgasm more powerful than any she’d ever experienced before.
And in that moment, Jess knew that this was where she was always meant to be – as the prized hucow of the farm, forever pleasing the men and cows alike with her endless supply of creamy, delicious milk.
One day, as she sat in the hay-strewn stall, brushing Buttercup’s soft, warm coat, Jess couldn’t help but confide in her bovine friend. “I never thought I’d say this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “but I’m happy here. I feel… free. And I owe it all to you, Buttercup. I owe it all to this life, to my more… bovine side.”
Buttercup lowed in response, nudging Jess’s head with her big, wet nose, as if she understood every word. Jess giggled, leaning her cheek against the cow’s flank. It was still warm from the milking session she’d just endured, the memory of the farmhands’ rough hands sending a thrill through her.
As the days passed, Jess found herself spending more and more time in the barn, tending to the cows and avoiding her old life. Work, friends, and even her family back home seemed like distant memories, fading into the background as she embraced her newfound love for all things bovine.
One cool autumn evening, as the leaves crunched under her feet, Jess made her way to the barn for her nightly visit with Buttercup. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the pasture, and the air was heavy with the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the musky scent of the cows. Buttercup was waiting for her, as usual, chewing lazily on a mouthful of grass.
“Hi there, girl,” Jess cooed, scratching Buttercup’s head. “I’ve been thinking…” she said hesitantly, “I’ve decided I’m not going back. I’m staying here… with you. With all of you. I’m sorry, Buttercup, but this is where I belong.”
Buttercup looked at her with her big, doe-like eyes as if she’d known all along. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jess knew she’d made the right choice. This was more than a vacation; it was home. And as she sank to her knees, her hands full of Buttercup’s warm, creamy udder, she realized she’d never been happier.
Those city lights and concrete jungles were a distant memory now, replaced by endless emerald fields and the gentle lowing of her bovine companions. Jess’s transformation was complete… or was it? Jess’s days fell into a rhythm, and she found herself waking up earlier and earlier each morning, unable to wait to start her new life as a hucow. Geralt was overjoyed to see her dedication, and he rewarded her handsomely for it. Jess had never felt more at home or more at peace with herself. The mayhem of her old life seemed like a distant memory.
One crisp autumn day, as she knelt in the barn, milking Buttercup’s swollen teats, Jess felt a familiar ache between her thighs. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of her flimsy dress, and she knew what she had to do. Slipping away from her chores, she retreated to the hayloft, her heart pounding in anticipation.
Upstairs, she didn’t waste any time, pulling her skirt up and her panties down, exposing her soaking wet, aching pussy. Jess’s fingers wandered over her swollen folds, her other hand massaging her heavy breasts. Picturing the scene from yesterday’s milking, she moaned, her hips bucking as her fingers plunged deeper and deeper into her soaked core.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned, arching her back as her orgasm approached. “Fuck me like one of your cows!”
Her climax hit her like a freight train, stealing the air from her lungs and sending her flying over the edge. As her juices drenched the hay beneath her, Jess knew in her heart that she’d finally found her true calling – as a hucow on the best damn farm in all the land.
In the barn below, Buttercup begged excitedly, sensing her new mistress’s release. Geralt chuckled to himself as he continued milking the other cows, already planning the naughty punishment he’d bestow upon his naughty hucow later that night.

The sun warmed the dew-laden fields, and the scent of freshly cut hay permeated the air. Jess, the farmer’s daughter, lingered behind after her morning chores, mesmerized by the bovine creatures that surrounded her. Slowly, she edged closer to the herd, drawn to their placid, contented expressions. As she observed them, her curiosity piqued, she knelt down and mimicked their actions, tearing at the juicy grass shoots with her fingers. The taste of earth and sunshine filled her mouth, so different from the vegetables cooked by her overbearing mother.
Her thoughts drifted to the world beyond the farm, to the places she’d only read about in her tattered books. A longing to experience something new, something forbidden, ignited a fire inside her. With each chew, her daydreams intensified, her mind racing with images of faraway lands and mysterious lovers. Her hands unconsciously drifted to her budding breasts, plump and heavy under her homespun shirt. A deep ache blossomed between her thighs, a yearning she didn’t quite understand but longed to satiate.
Inspired by the cows, Jess dropped to all fours, her skirts hiked up to her hips, exposing her bare pussy to the summer breeze. She instinctively began to grind against the ground, imitating the frolicking heifers in the pasture. Her fingers found the swollen nub of her clit, rubbing it roughly as if to milk the pleasure trapped inside. The coarse dirt and straw against her naked skin only fueled her mounting arousal.
In her mind’s eye, Jess saw herself bound to a post like the cows during milking season, a faceless man behind her, his hands roaming her plump hips, squeezing the ripe orbs of her ass. The thought of being treated like one of her father’s prized heifers sent a shiver of lust down her spine. As her fingers delved deeper, she imagined the man’s hot breath in her ear, his voice a low growl. “You’re my little hucow, aren’t you? Ready for your next milking?”
With a desperate moan, Jess ground harder against the earth, her arousal pooling around her fingers. Her other hand traveled down to her puckered anus, a newfound urge to be filled and used overtaking her. She’d never heard of such wickedness, but she craved it nonetheless. The thought of being taken roughly, like the bulls did the cows in the spring, made her heart race.
Panting and flushed, her orgasm crashed over her, intense and unrelenting. Jess collapsed onto the ground, spent but not satisfied. Her mind whirling with images of the tantalizing unknown, she knew the safety of the farm could no longer contain her. Tonight, she’d take the black bull in the pasture. Tonight, she’d become a true hucow.
The sun sank below the horizon as Jess crept to the barn, her heart pounding in her chest. The anticipation of what she was about to do sent a thrill through her veins. Geralt would be livid if he found out, but she couldn’t deny her desires any longer. Quietly, she unlatched the stall door, her gaze locking with the ebony bull’s. His low, rumbling moan sent shivers down her spine, and she knew this was her destiny.
In the hay-strewn straw, she undressed, her overalls and camisole joining her discarded boots. Naked and trembling, she knelt before the beast, offering her swollen breasts for his inspection. The bull’s rough tongue lapped at her hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. He was everything she’d fantasized about and more.
With a deep breath, Jess positioned herself over the bull, her slick entrance quivering in anticipation. His hot breath ghosted over her folds, and she felt him nudge against her slick entrance. “I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. “Make me yours, make me one of your own.”
The first thrust was harsh, tearing her in ways she’d never known. Jess’s screams were lost in the night air, yet where others would have felt pain, she only felt an intoxicating bliss. The bull’s thrusts were relentless, plunging into her depths, stretching her in ways she’d never thought possible. Her walls clenched around his thick shaft, her body begging for more.
This was it; this was what she’d been missing. Jess dug her nails into the straw, her hips meeting each of the bull’s primal thrusts. She’d never felt so alive, so free. Her orgasm built like a storm, crashing over her in waves as the bull’s hot seed flooded her womb.
Collapsing onto her hands and knees, Jess panted, her eyes glazed over with lust. Her farm-girl innocence long gone, replaced by the primal desires of a hucow in heat. She glanced over her shoulder at the bull, their eyes locking in an unspoken understanding.
From now on, she’d be Geralt’s hucow. His property, his plaything, and his prized breeding cow. A wicked smile curled at her lips. Tomorrow, she’d tell him about her decision. Until then, she’d savor her secret, her newfound freedom, and the knowledge that she’d finally become what she was always meant to be. Tonight, she was a Hucow, and nothing else mattered.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Jess. She couldn’t stop thinking about the farmhand and their tryst in the barn. Every time she thought about the thickness of his cock stretching her, her insides clenched with need. By evening, she could no longer deny herself. Sneaking away from the house under the guise of feeding the chickens, she rushed to the barn, this time with a plan to take matters into her own hands… or hooves, as it were.
Once inside, she lit a single lantern, casting the barn in a sultry, golden glow. The smell of hay and the musk of the animals filled her senses, heightening her arousal. Inhibitions gone, she stripped naked, proudly displaying her voluptuous body in the empty barn. Her breasts bounced free, already heavy with milk, and between her legs, her cunt throbbed with desire.
Jess climbed atop a hay bale, spreading her legs wide, her fingers trembling with anticipation. Slowly, she dipped a shaking hand between her legs, her fingers easily finding her swollen clit. The moment she touched herself, a shudder ran through her body. Moaning softly, she imagined it was the farmhand’s cock instead of her own fingers.
Her other hand traveled to her breasts, massaging them roughly, tweaking her hardened nipples. “Mmm, just like a good h ucow,” she purred, her voice a mix of lust and shame. Her thoughts drifted to Geralt, and she imagined him catching her in this disgraceful act. The idea of being caught and punished for her transgressions only fueled her arousal further.
Jess’s fingers moved faster, her hips bucking as she pictured herself as one of the cows in the field. Her moans grew louder, no longer caring who might hear. “Milk me,” she moaned, “milk me dry.”
Her fantasies descended into a whirlwind of degradation and animalistic lust. In her mind, she was no longer Jess the farmer’s daughter, but Jess the hucow, bred and milked by the farmhands. Her hoofs were like rocks, rougher, more insistent as she fucked herself with abandon, the idea of being a mere object for pleasure sending her over the edge.
“Faster!” she cried out, her orgasm building, her body tense with anticipation. “Fuck me like an animal!”
As she came, she saw herself on all fours, her breasts pinned to a milking contraption, the cold steel of the pump sucking her dry as a man relentlessly plowed her from behind. Her cries of pleasure were drowned out by the rhythmic squeaking of the machine.
In the aftermath, Jess collapsed in the hay, breathless and spent. Tomorrow would bring more chores and more work, but for tonight, she had embraced the part of the hucow. Her secret, for now, was safe.
But little did she know, a pair of unseen eyes watched from the barn door, their owner smirking with dark intentions and a twisted plan to fulfill Jess’s forbidden desires.
The next day, Jess woke up sore between her legs but still filled with excitement for the day ahead. Little did she know that her life was about to change forever. Her “birthday” gift from Geralt was a one-way ticket to her wildest, darkest fantasies. As she opened the barn doors, she gasped at the sight before her: a dungeon-like room, complete with restraints, harnesses, and a milking machine. A note lay on the table: “Happy birthday, Jess. Welcome to your new life as the hucow you were always meant to be.”
In the corner, Geralt stood, a smirk on his face, his intentions clear. He’d known about her fantasies all along.
What would Jess do now? Would she run or embrace her new life as a hucow? Only time would tell.

Jess stirred uneasily in her bed, moaning softly in her sleep as a strange sensation crept along her extremities. Her hands and feet seemed to tingle and pulse with alien energy as if they were asleep yet also on fire. The sensation intensified, jolting her awake with a startled gasp. She rubbed at her eyes, still half-dazed from slumber, but the tingling persisted, if anything, growing in intensity. Blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, she sat up and froze, her breath catching in her throat.
In the dim lantern light, Jess stared at her hands, her heart thudding in her chest. They seemed… different. Thicker and coarser, the skin appeared more like leather than ever before. The nails on her fingers had thickened into short, blunt nails, the tips now resembling keratinized hooves. She gasped, snatching her left hand to her mouth, but even that movement sent a cascade of new sensations coursing through her body.
The sheet slipped down, exposing her lower body, and Jess gasped afresh. The duvet had pooled around her thickening ankles, unable to cover her rapidly swelling calves. The sensations were like a thousand ants crawling over her skin, but instead of itchiness, deep, aching arousal began to pool between her legs. Her eyes widened in the mirror as she saw her calves and thighs thickening, the skin darkening in color, taking on a more leathery sheen.
Disbelief and terror warred with the mounting horniness that was sweeping through her like a wildfire. This was impossible. It couldn’t be happening. But it was, and she was powerless to stop it.
Unable to tear her gaze away from her changing reflection, Jess watched in morbid fascination as her thighs and hips swelled further, her hips widening, her body reshaping itself into a caricature of fertility. Her nipples, already sensitive and erect, darkened in color, elongating into thick, rubbery teats, and her nipples ached in time to the throbbing between her legs.
Moaning, she sank back onto the bed, her mind spinning with confusion and mounting arousal. The tingling sensation had spread to her most private of places, and she could feel herself drenching the bedding, the smell of her arousal mingling with the musky scent of her changing body. It was too much to bear, and without thinking, Jess’s hands dropped to her distended abdomen, her fingers clumsy on her swollen, aching vagina.
The instant she made contact, Jess cried out. White-hot pleasure seared through her as if her entire body had been waiting for that single touch, for that one point of contact between her fingers and her slick, swollen folds. Thrusting her hips against her hand, she rode the wave of ecstasy that crashed over her, her mind a blissful blur of sensations.
As the climax subsided, Jess collapsed back against the pillows, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her body tingled all over, and her stomach gurgled ominously as though to remind her that her transformation was far from over. Slowly, she raised her gaze to the mirror, and the cow-like eyes that stared back at her were fogged with lust and resignation.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned, her new, deeper voice trembling with lust and submission. “What has happened to me?”
The reflection in the mirror only stared back, a twisted caricature of the girl she once was. Jess’s once-soft features had hardened, her jawline more defined and chin jutting out with the beginnings of a double chin. Her lips were now a deep, pouty red, swollen, and perfect for a good, hard fucking. Slowly, she reached up to touch her face, her fingertips unused to the new heft of her breasts, the way they splayed across her belly, heavy and aching with milk.
“No, no, no,” she moaned, but her protests were cut short as another wave of pleasure consumed her. Jess arched her back as her udders spasmed, spraying a fine mist of milky, musky liquid onto the sheets below. The scent of her arousal, mixed with the earthy scent of her dairy transformation, filled the room, making her head spin with desire.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned, her new, gravelly voice muffled by the gag in her mouth. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”
Her chin dipped in consent, and Jess’s mind, still struggling against the tide of animalistic lust, finally gave in. She was a hucow now, and her purpose was to be fucked and milked by any willing bull. As the neighboring bull’s thick cock plunged into her, she moaned in dark ecstasy, her body writhing with every animalistic thrust. Her new, rubbery cunt gripped at him like a vice, her heavy udders swaying in time to his pounding hips.
“Yes, fuck me,” she groaned, her voice a guttural, lust-filled growl. “Make this hucow cum. Fill me up, make me yours.”
The bull, sensing her submission, pistoned into her faster, his balls slapping against her engorged, quivering ass. Jess screamed her body on fire with need. Her fingers dug into the hay beneath her, and she arched her back, offering her new, voluptuous body to him without reservation. His cock slid in and out of her with ease, as if she’d been built for this, made to service the insatiable hunger of these virile bulls.
As her orgasm built, Jess’s mind finally gave in to the darkness, her thoughts consumed by the driving need to be filled, to be milked, to be used. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she came with such force that milk erupted from her udders, soaking the hay beneath her. The animal grunted in approval, his hot seed filling her already swollen pussy, and she moaned with pleasure and relief.
Exhausted, Jess collapsed onto her side, her new life as a hucow just beginning.
The sun rose, casting a golden light upon the barn. Jess groaned, blinking blearily as she registered her surroundings. Hay prickled against her belly, and she was splayed on her hands and knees, her fat, swollen ass in the air. Dried cum and milk stained her thighs and thighs, and her body ached from her rough, animalistic mating. “No, no, this can’t be real,” she moaned, her voice deepening in pitch as she spoke.
Panicked, she scrambled to her feet, her new, cumbersome udders swaying with the movement. She stumbled to a nearby trough, where she splashed cold water on her face, desperately trying to wash away the evidence of the previous night. But the unmistakable scent of sex clung to her, and her reflection in the water betrayed her new, bovine form. “Father,” she whimpered, her new, coarse voice cracking. “Father, please help me.”
In a scare, she ran from the barn, her heavy udders and sore, abused cunt thudding with each step. Bursting through the homestead’s back door, she skidded to a halt, her heart pounding in her chest. Geralt, oblivious to her transformation, was already tending to the chickens.
“Father!” Her new, deep voice startled even her, but Geralt looked up, a frown etched on his weathered face.
“What’s the matter, Jess? Late for your chores again?”
Jess gulped, her wide, panicked eyes darting between her father and the cock that hung between her legs. “N-no, father. I… I just…”
“Spit it out, girl,” he barked, his patience wearing thin.
“I… I… I’m not feeling well. Can I… can I tend to the chores later?”
Giving her a once over, he grunted in skepticism. “Fine. Get yourself together, and report back here before noon, understood?”
“Yes, father,” she croaked, her voice cracking.
Inside her room, Jess locked the door and collapsed onto the bed. She was ugly, unrecognizable. Her once-lean body now resembled a cow’s, her breasts and thighs swollen with fat, her skin covered in coarse fur. She reached between her legs, horrified to find her sensitive folds engorged and aching for more attention. Moaning, she pinched her nipples, her fingers ending in blunt, stumpy fingers.
“No, no, no,” she moaned, her voice deepening with arousal. Her other hand slid down to her swollen, throbbing cock, stroking it with increasing desperation. “I’m a freak,” she sobbed, “a disgusting, lust-crazed freak.”
She rubbed herself faster, hips bucking wildly. The pleasure was inescapable, but it brought her no solace. In fact, it made her hate her new form even more. It wasn’t long before she came, spurting jets of thick, potent seed onto her swollen breasts, filling her with a momentary relief that soon turned to shame.
Panting, Jess collapsed back onto the bed, her distended belly heaving. A single tear slid down her furry cheek as she stared at the ceiling, wondering how her life had come to this.
In the end, she forced herself out of bed, needing to face her new, twisted reality.
“I’m a hucow now,” she thought, resignation creeping in. “And I must adapt or perish.”
Gathering her tattered clothes with much difficulty due to the bodily changes, Jess ventured out into the sunlight, her newfound hunger and lust for attention following close behind…
Dusk fell, and Jess slunk towards the barn, her belly swollen from the day’s activities. She opened the door, the smell of hay and animals greeting her senses. In a corner of the dimly lit barn, she spotted her friend Sarah brushing down one of the bulls. “Sarah,” Jess called out, her voice hoarse from overuse. “Can we talk?”
Sarah turned, her eyes widening at the sight of Jess. “Jess? Is that really you?”
“It’s me,” Jess rasped, shuffling closer. “I… I have something to tell you.”
Sarah’s jaw dropped as she got a closer look at her friend’s transformed state. “My God, what’s happened to you?”
Jess took a deep breath, her growing udders jostling. “I… I don’t know how to explain this, but… I’m changing…”
Jess led Sarah to a secluded corner of the barn, her heart pounding in her swollen chest. She couldn’t believe she was about to share her humiliating secret, but she didn’t have anyone else to turn to. Taking a deep breath, she began to unbutton her sloppy shirt, revealing her flabby, lactating belly and fur-covered breasts.
“No,” Sarah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “What happened to you?”
Jess’s eyes watered, her voice trembling. “I don’t know, Sarah. It started a few days ago, and… and now,” she gestured to her oversized breasts, “this is happening.”
Sarah stepped forward, her fingers skimming over the coarse fur and engorged nipples. “It… feels real,” she whispered in disbelief.
Jess nodded, unable to speak as she blushed under her friend’s gaze. She wanted to pull away, to regain some semblance of modesty, but the attention felt so good.
“And… and your voice?”
“It’s… deeper,” Jess croaked out. “And I’m… I’m so… so hungry. And horny.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Horny?”
Jess blushed even deeper, her cheeks flaming. “It’s… it’s like I’m always… ready. And when I… when I…” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
Sarah’s eyes drifted down to Jess’s crotch, where her pants bulged obscenely. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
Jess couldn’t take it anymore. She shoved her hoofed hand between her legs, finding her swollen, quivering clit.
“Jess!” Sarah gasped, but she didn’t stop her.
With a moan, Jess came, her pants soaking wet as she ground her hand against herself. As she came down from the high, she looked at Sarah, her face a picture of need. “I… I need you to…”
Sarah swallowed, but her gaze was locked on Jess’s heaving chest. “Tell me what you need,” she said, her voice a husky whisper.
“I… I need…” Jess whimpered, her voice hoarse. “I need… to be… milked.”
Without a word, Sarah dropped to her knees in front of her. She looked at her swollen, aching breasts. Her teats were painfully hard, leaking a thick, milky fluid.
Wrapping her lips around one, Sarah sucked, her tongue lapping at the sensitive flesh. The relief washed over Jess in a delicious wave, but it wasn’t enough.
“Harder,” she moaned, her voice guttural. “Suck it harder!”
Sarah obliged, sucking with more force, her hands squeezing the other swollen udder. Jess threw her head back and moaned, her body shaking as pleasure coursed through her. She could feel the milk beginning to flow, her hucow instincts taking over.
As Sarah suckled, Jess’s milk began to spray, soaking both of their faces and breasts. “Oh God,” she cried out, “Oh, fuck, yes!”
As the torrent of creamy liquid continued to gush forth, Jess found herself grinding against Sarah’s face, her moans and squeals filling the room. Finally, her orgasm subsided, leaving her spent and panting.
“Oh my God,” she gasped as Sarah looked up at her, a satisfied smile on her face.
And thus, a new chapter in their friendship began one that would be filled with unimaginable pleasure and endless gallons of sweet, creamy bliss.