Thirteen The hum of the fluorescent lights as they powered up roused Julia from her fitful sleep. She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, but failed as she always did due to the mittens her hands had been forced into. Looking down, she could see the two round, leather covered fists that were her hands. They'd been that way for almost as long as she could remember. The never changing routine made keeping track of time impossible, but she knew it was five or six years that her hands had been kept that way. With a silent groan, she slowly rolled over and to the edge of the cot. It was difficult to manage to sit up as her advanced state of pregnancy made even the simplest tasks damned near impossible. Looking down, she could see that her large breasts were supported somewhat by the round bump that was her pregnancy. Just looking at her breasts always upset her as she now had old woman’s breasts, large, saggy, with overdeveloped nipples, and that just wasn't right. She ought to still have her teenage breasts, firm, full with just the cutest nipples, but that was no longer the case. She thought she was twenty four, but she could have been wrong by a year or so either way. The last concrete fact about her old life, that she could remember, was making her way from the pre natal clinic to the chemists to pick up her prescription when she was bundled into a van. A bag was thrust over her head and she felt the sharp jab of a needle sliding into her arm. Taking a breath she rolled herself off the bed and onto all fours on the floor. As much as she wanted to stand, to be able to run away from all this, she couldn't, because of what she'd discovered after she awoke from her kidnapping. She'd been strapped down on a hospital gurney, held totally immobile by several strategically placed restraints. There was a man leaning over her, centred in her field of view, waiting for her to recover from the anaesthetic that had rendered her unconscious. Without any preamble he quietly and calmly talked to her, gently stroking her hair as he spoke, letting his smooth touch massage away her fears. Not that he actually managed that, but that human touch had helped her accept that she was no longer in Kansas Toto, and was somewhere totally different. He explained to her that she'd been specially selected, and that she ought to be proud of that, as not many girls managed to pass their exacting standards. She opened her mouth to scream for help and she was momentarily surprised when he made no move to stop her. Taking advantage of his lack of a reaction, she let out a resounding yell, the desperate cry for help that only a teenager in trouble can manage. She was taken aback when all that came out of her mouth was a soft hissing sound. Shocked, she drew in a huge breath and tried again but with the same results. Seeing the fear in her eyes, he gently stroked her brow, and informed her that she'd had her vocal chords cut, snipped cleanly, and she'd been rendered permanently mute. He gave her a moment to take this fact in, and when she'd calmed down enough to think it through, she realised with fresh mounting panic that this wasn't the typical abduction you see on the news, this was something totally different, scarily different. Still stroking, he assured her that nothing they'd done had harmed her baby in anyway, and in a couple of months she'd be a proud mother. He then scared her witless by going on about how they couldn't have their investments running around willy nilly, so they'd improved upon a trick that the Old Time South used to use on runaway slaves. He held a large mirror in front of her eyes, and tilted it so that she could see her feet. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw what they'd done. He calmly and patiently told her that although they'd tried amputation, the healing times and aftercare were just too problematical. So they'd settled on cutting through her Achilles tendons and flexing the foot out straight, fixing it that way with a little bit of careful pinning. The end effect was that her shins continued straight onto the top of her foot, as if they were en point, which they were, but permanently so. Julia shook those old time memories from her mind and slowly crawled across the floor until she was kneeling by the half door that separated her stall from the corridor and all the other stalls. She could hear her handlers making their way down the rows, tending to each girl in turn until they finally reached her. The door opened and she saw it was Blonde #2. Julia liked this one. She was gentle and often had a little treat for her, unlike Blonde #1, who was a cold mean bitch, and Redhead, who was somewhere between the two. "Have a good night Thirteen? The Blonde asked, not pausing to wait for an answer she knew would never come. The Blonde patted her on the head and filled her feeding bucket, the one that was attached to the wall. It was the only thing in her stall that had writing and Julia had read and reread it so many times, the only form of stimulation in her room. It was a simple calf bucket with a phallic teat at the base she could suck her feed from. In all the time she'd been here the contents had never changed, the same liquid feed that kept her going day after day. Blonde #2 then ran her hands over her swollen belly, checking the baby's placement, and as if talking to herself, said that it'd be due any day now. After that routine check, the Blonde made a mark in her PDA and checked the bright yellow tag that was in Julia's left ear. It simply read 13, Julia's new name in this place. After the checks, the Blonde took the steel suction cups that were the business end of the milking machine from their holder on the wall, and after a disinfecting wipe, slipped them onto Julia's teats. Julia couldn't help but feel a small shudder run through her as her nipples were sucked into the milking machine. Days, months even years of this treatment had conditioned her, had made this an integral part of her life. As her breasts hung down, pulled by the weight of the steel milking cups, she opened her legs so that her handler could have easy access to her clit. There was a brief moment when #2 gently stroked her, a human touch on her most intimate place, before settling a much smaller suction cup to her clit. As the machine came to life, Julia could feel her milk engorged breasts start to gently swing in time to the milking machines demands. Her clit was slowly being stimulated by the suction cup that was attached to it. On the way out and onto the next stall, Blonde #2 reached into her pocket and slipped Julia a sugar lump. The sweetness of the sugar as it slowly melted on her tongue was pure heaven, a far cry from the bland taste of her feed. Left alone, Julia knelt there, letting the machines do their work. She was soon in that special place where she went whilst being milked. The never changing routine of her days, the suction upon her nipples and clit, had surely conditioned her. It was as if Julia had never existed, she'd been replaced by Cow #13. She was no longer a mother to be, a person with hopes, desires, loves. Now she was a cow to be milked, a cow who awoke each and every day to the same routine, and one who if truth be told, now looked forward to it. Julia couldn't remember the exact moment when she stopped hoping for rescue, and instead had accepted that this was her fate. The regularity of her days had seen to that. No longer had she any worries, everything was taken care of. All she had to do was settle down and let the machines milk her whilst the cup on her clit sucked and vibrated, teasing her to one orgasm after another. Julia could feel her pussy moistening, her pelvic muscles starting to clench as her first orgasm slowly built in intensity. As the machines stimulated her towards her first orgasm of the day, she let her mind drift, thinking back to the birth of her first child. When they'd taken her, the clinic had just confirmed her due date, a date that was only four short weeks away. She'd tried to keep track of the passing days by counting the day/night cycle they'd reduced her to. But when her time came and passed, she realised that they must have adjusted her body clock to a shorter sleep cycle. The lack of an outside, independent measure of time meant that she could only count the periods of light and dark, and that they were much shorter than that of the June day when she'd been abducted. Eventually her waters broke, and she'd been collected by the Redhead. She simply came into her stall and disconnected the milking machines, slipped a leash around her neck, and with a firm tug, had lead her out of her stall. It was only then did Julia realise that she wasn't the only one here. She was led past several stalls, each one containing a woman connected up to the same sort of machines that she was now used to. There were all sorts of women, some young, some older; some with trim athletic builds, some more generously built than herself, and every colour of hair imaginable. The only two things they all had in common was the way they were connected up to be milked and that they were all in various states of pregnancy. The Redhead led her down the corridor, and into a well equipped delivery suite. With a grunt, the Redhead bent over and scooped her up, gently placing her on the delivery table. She then quickly and efficiently strapped her down, restraining her arms and head, before guiding her legs into the waiting stirrups. Julia had never felt so exposed, naked, spread out and immobile. Her mind was racing, unable to communicate her growing panic as she realised that they were expecting her to give birth, here, away from a modern maternity ward. As she lay there, feeling her contractions speed up, she was surprised when she felt a human hand start to gently stroke her still pert breasts. She could only watch in stunned amazement as the Redhead gently caressed her, leaning in close so that her breath blew against her ear. The humanness of this touch, the first real contact between her and another person overwhelmed her, causing her eyes to tear up. "Relax Thirteen, we've a better way of helping a woman through childbirth, it needn't be as stressful as you thought." And with that, the Redhead continued to gently stroke and touch her. The feel of that human touch after so long was totally overwhelming to her. She was barely conscious of her contractions starting in earnest. As the time of her child's birth approached, the Redhead turned her attentions away from Julia's breasts and centred in on her clit. She teased it with her breath, gently blowing on the exposed tip, and her fingers deftly toyed and teased Julia's labia. The warmth and tenderness of this touch was all that was needed, and Julia realised that her pre-orgasmic tightening was synchronised with her contractions. She could feel her baby making its way down her birth canal as the Redhead slowly but surely brought her towards a shattering orgasm. At a signal from the midwife, the Redhead started to firmly but tenderly rub her clit, speeding up the impending orgasm. Julia was barely aware of her baby's progress as an immense orgasm swept through her, helping her child into the world. Her orgasmic contractions melding with childbirth so that she had orgasm after orgasm, each one helping to deliver her baby. She can't but feel a little sad as she relived that first birth, as she never saw her child again The child was whisked out one door and she the other, back to her stall and her life as a milk cow. She stretches out her right leg and smiles as she looks down on her thigh. She can feel another orgasm building, brought on by the incessant milking. She fondly smiles as she looks down on the tattoos that adorn her thigh. Tattoos that tell the tale of her children. The tattoos form two columns, one of circles with a cross at the bottom, and the other with circles with an arrow coming pointing from it. As she shivers with her orgasm, she wonders which row will be added to after this birth.