Author: Julien Sorel (juliensorel61@hotmail.com) Title: The Reluctant Cow, Part Three Summary: The drug that transformed Maggie into a girl/cow doesn't seem to be wearing off.... Keywords: MF, nc, humil, transformation, lactation Maggie knelt in the grass, behind the white picket fences that marked the boundaries of the clinic, and grazed on the lawn. She was accustomed by now to the taste of grass, but she had never learned to enjoy it. Each time her head dipped to tear out another mouthful, her massive breasts crushed against the ground. It was a painful sensation: even when she'd been milked recently, there was always pressure building up inside her now. But the pain was accompanied by a pleasant tickle in her teats as they scraped along the grass. The loud clanking of the cowbell attached to her collar accompanied every move she made. It was a sunny day, and much of the staff was outdoors, milling about or working with the animals. No one took much notice of Maggie, though she was recognizably a naked human female, albeit a very large one. Maggie had the impression that the clinic workers were uncomfortable around her, and preferred to pretend she wasn't there. But lately she didn't care much whether anyone paid attention to her or not. It had been much longer than six months since Maggie had been fed the full dose of the drug that had transformed her, and its effects showed no sign at all of wearing off. If anything, Maggie had become even more cowlike over the course of her time at the clinic. She had given up hoping for anything. A minibus of grade school children, on a field trip to see the animals at the clinic and its attached farm, pulled up on the road outside the fence. Paul's pretty young assistant, dressed in the silly farmer's daughter outfit that she wore for the public, met the children at the van's door and gathered them into a group. Maggie gave an involuntary moo as she chewed. She knew this routine. She had never grasped how desperate Paul's business was for funds until she inadvertently became one of its main attractions. The children were led onto the lawn and formed a circle around Maggie. In complete contrast to the staff, who averted their gaze whenever they passed her, the children stared with wide open eyes and mouths. Maggie didn't feel like giving them a show, but she couldn't stop herself from eating grass when she was hungry. And she was always hungry. "Is she happy?" asked a girl. "Yes, she is," said the assistant. "This is the life she wanted." Maggie wearily mooed her disapproval. "She's got a pretty face," said another girl. "Can we pet her?" asked a boy. "Yes, but be gentle," said the assistant. The children edged toward Maggie, and one after another put their hands on her pink, plump body. Maggie mooed, but knew it was no use. The children's shyness was starting to wear off; one bold little girl wrapped a hand around Maggie's left teat and yanked. "Moooo!" yelled Maggie, still chewing. "Don't do that, children," said the assistant. "Why are her breasts so big?" asked the bold girl. "Because she gives us milk, just like all the other cows." said the assistant. "And she prefers that you call them udders, not breasts." Maggie mooed in disgust. Everyone at the clinic knew perfectly well what had happened to her, and yet they had all gradually adopted the comforting belief that she had transformed herself on purpose. "Stop it! Stop that right now!" said the assistant in a harsh tone. Two mischievous little boys had gotten behind Maggie and were poking a long blade of grass up into her private parts, causing her to bellow in dismay. "It's almost time to visit the creamery and get a treat," said the assistant, wanting to end the visit before the children became too unruly. "Who wants their picture taken with Maggie before we go?" "Me, me!" screamed the children. The bold girl ran up to Maggie first and put her arm around her neck. Maggie wasn't interested in the photo opportunity, and kept grazing. "If you want her to look up, put your thumb in the soft spot under her chin, and push hard," said the assistant. "Don't worry, you won't hurt her." The bold little girl followed the instructions with enthusiasm, getting a bellow of pain from Maggie but forcing her to pose. One after another, the children took their place beside Maggie for a picture, forcing her to look at the camera. "Can I get on her back for my picture?" asked one of the mischievous boys. "All right, but be quick," said the assistant. The boy leapfrogged onto Maggie's bare back and straddled her happily. In his excitement, the boy dug his shoes deep into Maggie's milk-filled tits. Maggie's moos were horrible, but the assistant thought it best to let the boy do what he wanted and get the picture taken quickly. The children were led away to the creamery for an ice cream, leaving Maggie alone again in the field, grazing dejectedly. In the afternoon, two stable boys attached a rope to Maggie's collar, pulled her up onto her hands and feet (a strenuous task), and led her off to the barn for the evening. In her stall, Maggie was tethered and pulled up onto a wooden block that supported her arms so that her back was level. The stable boys, who were in fact grown men, proceeded to wash her with sudsy, lukewarm water (Maggie could somehow getting pretty dirty when left outside to graze) and brush her down. While they worked, they amused themselves by making incredibly vulgar and debasing comments about Maggie, seemingly unaware or unconcerned that she could understand everything they said. Peter, wearing a lab coat and weary from an unproductive day with potential investors, entered the barn with a clipboard in his hand and walked over to Maggie's stall. He had gotten out of the habit of addressing Maggie directly over the months, and Maggie too no longer bothered lifting her head from her feed bin when he visited. After inspecting Maggie for a few seconds, Peter asked the stable boys, "Did you take a stool sample?" "Not yet," said the older of the two, scrubbing Maggie without concern for the tenderness of the parts he was working on. "You're supposed to take it first thing," said Peter coldly. "We'll get it," said the younger man. "Andy took a stool sample last night," said the grinning older man. "You can just scrape it off his condom." "That's the only place you can get any traction on her," said Andy with a smile. "She's got a twat like a horsecollar." "See, for some of us that's no problem," said the older man. "She's just the right size for me." "Shut up! Shut up, both of you!" yelled Peter shrilly. The men stopped talking, but smiled at each other. They didn't seem to take Peter very seriously. "I don't want to hear anything like that ever again. She was my girlfriend, for Christ's sake." Peter removed his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief. Peter's blonde assistant walked briskly into the stable and stood by Peter's side. The stable boys began to move more quickly when they saw her. The blonde looked down at Maggie's udders. "She needs milking," said the girl. "We're supposed to take a stool sample first," said the older stable boy. "Oh, that's not important, is it?" asked the girl, looking at Peter. He continued to clean his glasses and didn't respond. "We'll take her into the milking room," said the blonde to the men. "You take care of Ginger for now, and finish up with Maggie later." The men left off brushing Maggie and went to groom a real cow. The assistant untethered Maggie, pulled her off her block, and led her to the milking machine, with Peter following. When they were out of earshot of the stable boys, she whispered excitedly in Peter's ear, "I talked to the Japanese." "Carla..." said Peter. "I think they'll take her," said Carla, expertly attaching Maggie's teats to the milking machine and switching the unit on. "No, Carla, no. I refuse," said Peter wearily. Carla pulled Peter away to one side of the room as Maggie's milk began to spurt into the machine's tubes. They weren't quite out of Maggie's hearing, but it was difficult to be careful about that all the time. "Peter, we're talking real money here! Do you realize what we can do with that money?" she said. "But the drug might still wear off," said Peter. "I can't just..." "Darling, we're not doing anything to help her at this point," said Carla, putting her hands on Peter's shoulders. "And you've accomplished so much with this clinic! If we can just get the money to keep it going, I have such faith in what you can do with it!" She pulled Peter down into a passionate kiss, not too concerned about Maggie, who could see them plainly. Peter returned the kiss, but turned Carla sideways, so he could stare at Maggie while kissing her. Without breaking the kiss, Carla immediately grabbed Peter by the hair and pulled his head down so he couldn't see Maggie anymore. For Maggie, the drama of treacherous lovers, and even the prospect of being sold off to the Japanese, meant less to her at that moment than the exquisite ache in her teats as the machine manipulated them, sometimes brutally, sometimes teasingly. This indescribable feeling was what she lived for now; it was by far the most pleasurable sensation that her strange new life had to offer. She mooed softly, looked down at the vast, pink curves of her tortured udders, and felt the hot buzz in her face and neck that signalled the slow arrival of an orgasm, the first of the milking session.