Hucow Weddding

By DX

Copyrighted, 8/2025, all rights reserved.

 As the sky blushed with dawn, the auto-car rolled grouchily down the long, rough road to the little farm.  As the driverless auto-car made its way, I peered out the window and noted the lush green fields, trees, and giggling brook, as if I had never seen them before, even though I had.

 That moment, it was all new.  That moment, if all went according to my fantasy, everything would be new.

 “Hildy?”  I called my computer assistant.

 “Yes, Doctor McCoy?”

 “Stop the car.  I will walk from here.”

 “But Doctor, it is half a kilometer to the house from here.”  Hildy cautioned.

 “I know.”  I confirmed.  

 The auto-car rolled to a stop at the security gate.

 “I must warn you Doctor.”  Hildy went on.  You are about to enter a working farm.  A farm can be a very dangerous…”

 “I am aware of all danger.”  I stopped her routine speech, having heard it a thousand times before.  “Open the door, please.”

 “The road is suitable, and I can drive us to…”

 She was being overly impertinent.  “Open the door, Hildy.”  I ordered.

 “I am required to remind you that you will be unchaperoned and…”

 “Yes!  I know!”  I barked.  “I am aware of the three meter law.”  Chastised, Hildy unlocked door and I got out.  “You may discharge the car.  If I need one, I can call.”

 “The data-signal here is very poor, Doctor.  The car has a boosted…”

 I cut her off.  “How much time on the set alarm?”

 “You have one hour and twenty-three minutes before the new law takes affect.”

 “Thanks.”  I closed the door and walked to the gates.  Sensing me, they magically swung open.  From behind me, I heard the car start up, make a complicated U-turn, and drive away.

 I had been too nervous to sit in the car any longer, and Hildy was being… too Hildy.

 If all went well, I was going to be married to a wonderful man and live on a beautiful little farm and be a very happy woman.

 As I approached the barn, I watched as the Hucows slowly made their way to the field.  They were level four through six.  They were armless, a common practice to keep them out of trouble and save on superfluous calories.  They walked majestically, back arched, and shoulders rolled back so their bodies could support their massive breasts.  They were yawning, and blinking the sleep from their eyes as they stepped out of the milking stalls and toed into their slippers.  One saw me and ran over towards me, mooing happily.  She was level four and could speak, but chose not too, a common occurrence at that level.  As she advanced in levels, and her breasts grew larger, her Hucow brain would slowly take away her power of speech, and she would only moo.

 Like a cow.

 There was a time, before the eco-terrorist’s bio-manufactured plague killed the oceans, and the resulting storms blew the top-soil away, that there where actual cows, roaming around farms and giving us milk; but those days were long gone.  Instead we have chemically modified women, and some men, who have become Hucows.  With their mammaries massively enlarged, they lactate.  Their milk, harvested several times a day, would be processed into protein chains suitable to make, well, anything.

 To feed a planet with no food.   

 “How are you this morning?”  I asked her.

 “Mmm!”  She replied happily.

 A few other Hucows also wandered over, stopping just shy of the electric fence.  They were all beautiful, strong, and well exercised.  In the early morning light, I could see their bodies glisten from freshly applied sun-block.

 “Hello, Doctor.”  One said.

 “Hello, Mable.”  I replied.

 She turned and showed me her butt cheek.  There was a square self-adhesive bandage stuck there.  “Boo hurt.”  She said with a little pout.

 “I will look at it later.”  I told her, knowing it was a simple bug bite.  “Why don’t you go play?”

 She smiled, and walked off.  She would spend the day walking through the meadow with the other Hucows.  When she was ready to be milked, she would wander into the barn and stand in the stall were the auto-milker would attach hoses to her swelling teats and drain her.

 It was a most pleasurable experience; and I would know.  

 As a level two, my Hucow brain does make me a little slower mentally, but doesn’t impede my ability to be a licensed doctor and veterinarian.  I produce a good amount of milk from my heavy, sometimes too heavy, breasts.

 I watched the Hucows as they began to wander the field.  It was a good life for them, simple and quaint, an oasis in a world of horror and chaos.  The little farm was quiet and isolated.  One would never know out in the world there were cities of starving people willing to riot and kill for a bowl of rice.  We lived in a paradox of too many people, yet not enough population to sustain them.

 “Doctor McCoy!”  A man’s rumbling voice called out a greeting, and I watched Farmer Brown make his way out of the barn.  “Didn’t we just see you?  Is there a problem?”

 His baggy overalls couldn’t hide his powerful frame.  He was a bulk of a man, made hard from farming, and his arms were coiled with scars earned from the war when he was a soldier.

 Although his beard was greying, and his smile was warm and gentle, he moved like a predator.

 And my heart quickened.

 I had a speech prepared.  I had an entire plan carefully laid out that included a spreadsheet with data and precise calculations.  I had even practiced how I would turn, brush my scarlet hair back with a casual flick of my hand, bat my polar blue eyes, make sure the morning sunlight was on my face, and smile, knowing my dimpled cheeks would show.

 It all went out the window.

 In all my preparation for that moment, I had completely forgot to add: ‘milk myself’ to my checklist, and suddenly it rose to the forefront of my mind.  Seeing the other Hucows, my Hucow brain took over and I stammered like an idiot.

 He only stopped precisely three meters away and waited as if he had all the time in the world.

 I quit trying to talk, and instead, tried to hide my blushing face with my hand.  I decided to stop fighting it.  “May I borrow your stand-alone?”  I finally managed to ask.

 He gave a quiet laugh.  “Of course.”  He motioned with his head.  “Have at it.  It’s ready to go.”

 “Would you…”  I struggled to speak.  “install me in it?”

 He paused.  He knew I knew how to use the machine, I had done it a billion times before without any help, but he only nodded.  He knew something was off, but he didn’t ask.  

 “Sure.”  He said.  He reached into the front pocket of his overalls and took out his data-pad.  He tapped on it, held it up to catch my image, then tapped on it more.  

 My data-watch chirped and I tapped it without looking at it.  

 When his flashed green, he took a tentative step forward.  When no alarm sounded, he came over to me.

 I looked down at his mud splattered boots and I could feel his closeness.  At that moment I was not a doctor, I was not a woman, I was a Hucow, and he was not a man, but a Farmer, and as a Farmer could now come closer than three meters.

 “You want to follow me?”  He asked, confused over what was happening.

 I took his hand.  It felt like tree bark, and as hard as gravel.

 It was wonderful.

 Still looked down at our feet, I could see his face of utter surprise in the edge of my vision.  He didn’t know what I was doing.  Neither did I.

 We had never touched before.  It was illegal for a man and a woman to show any display of affection.  Although we both wore our State mandated chastities, standing close, or worse, touching, was a violation.

 But he wasn’t a man, and I wasn’t a woman.

 He was a Farmer, and I was a Hucow.

 “Are you okay?”  He asked.

 “Mmm.”  Was all my Hucow brain could manage.

 He lead me into the barn.  

 Along the far wall were the stalls for the level seven through nine Hucows.  Their breasts were several meters in diameter, and because of the magnificent weight, they could not walk.  For efficiency, their legs had been removed, and their bodies had been plumbed directly into the system so their milk could be continuously harvested.  They had stainless-steel plates permanently epoxied over their mouths connected to hoses so they could feed, and video goggles so they could watch cartoons or listen to music.

 Commercial farmers wouldn’t spend the money for such luxuries.  At level seven through nine the Hucow brain couldn’t process too much information, if any, so they often spent their lives staring at a blank wall—often in darkness.

 But that’s not how Farmer Brown did things.  He believed happy Hucows made happy milk.

 It was one of the reasons I loved him.

 These Hucows had become too old for profit and were designated for slaughter, but Farmer Brown rescued them, cared for them, and kept their brains working.  

 And their production and quality went up.

 Imagine that!

 He led me to the stand-alone.  Because the State accounted for every drop of precious milk, if I used one of his other stalls, my milk would be added to his production and the State would see an unexplained increase in his totals, and a suspicious deficit in mine.  To save a lot of brouhaha, it was easier to use a stand alone, account for my production, and then ‘sell’ my milk to Farmer Brown.  A slight hassle for him, but he seemed to welcome such things.

 As he programmed the machine and waited for State approval, I undid my blouse. 

 Slowly, so he could see.

 He didn’t look.  He was a professional.

 Another reason I loved him.

 When everything flashed green, the stocks on the stand alone opened like the petals of a flower.

 I held out my hand.  He looked at it confusedly before he took it, and helped me keep my balance.  I carefully stepped into the stocks, and as I found my position, the bar automatically swept up and locked my ankles in.  I then leaned forward and set my wrists and neck into the lunette.

 I shivered when they locked in place.

 The gag armature swiveled up, and I opened my mouth wide to get it in.  Farmer Brown then pulled the restraining strap around my head and it automatically tensioned for a snug fit.

 I was locked in, secured, helpless.

Teaser:  For the whole 14,500 word story, plus access to many novels, novella's, and short stories, consider supporting us at:
https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1981233

Copyrighted, 8/2025, all rights reserved.

The Device

By DX

Copyright, 5/2025, all rights reserved.

 I met my old lover at a tech convention.  

 As I set up my booth, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, up the row of fellow merchants, and there she was.  It was the curves I remembered, her muscle wrapped amazon legs that went on forever, and the sweep of her battleship breasts.  At first I thought it must be someone else, but it was her, and I instantly remembered the press of her soft lips, the warmth of her body against mine, and the raging heat of her loins as she enveloped my turgid member.

 Like a zombie, I made my way up the row, dodging the press of other merchants scrambling to set up, and walked up to her.  

 Her perfume wrapped me like a warm blanket.

 “Hello, Claire.”  I said, trying to be all cool as she turned.  “It’s me…”

 “Mack!”  She squealed and launched at me.  

 “You remembered… Umm!”  She planted her wonderful lips against mine and suddenly it was twenty years ago when she was an impetuous mustang and I was a goofy kid struggling to keep up with her thunderous charge.  She held me, and I felt her all too familiar breasts against my chest.  When she parted, I gasped.  “I thought you wouldn’t recognize me.”

 “Oh, my Mack!”  She blinded me with her smile and pressed her lips against mine again.  “You haven’t changed!”  She exclaimed as we broke.  “How are you?  No wait!”  She touched my chest.  “You are wonderful!”

 I let out a laugh.  “I’ve a few more miles on the odometer.”  I took her in.  “You look wonderful.”

 She gave me a side glance.  “Do I?”  She reached down and brushed her hand subtly against my fly and felt for my stirring member.  “Oh, yes!  I’ve still got it!”  She took my hand and held it up.  “No ring?”  Her eyes flickered.  “Excellent.  Is it too early to make dinner plans?”

 Desperate to take some control back I laughed nervously.  “So what have you got going here?”

 She glanced dismissively at her booth.  “We’re selling As Seen On TV crap.”  She sneered, glancing at the items being put on display.  She then looked up at the man behind the table.  “Oh, Mack,”  She said remembering.  “This is my boyfriend.”

 There I was, one arm draped around her waist, her arm around mine, and the boyfriend right there.

 I shouldn’t have been surprised.  Claire was intelligent, charming, and explosive in bed.  Her beauty was disarming and cutting.  Her smile could flay a man’s soul.  Of course she would have a boyfriend.  

 Claire never slept alone.

 Trying to act as if I wasn’t just making out with his girlfriend, I held out my hand.  “Hey, I’m Mack.”

 In the din of the convention all, I could barely hear his response.  “I’m George.”  He grinned at me.

 I saw his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

 He clasped his hand in mine and I gave it a congratulatory shake, a bit of; man to man, you got a hell of a woman and I envy the fuck you are about to receive, but his grip was a little lackluster, and I might have over done it.

 He was clean shaven, his hair a little thin, and a bit of baby fat to his cheeks.  He wasn’t a bad looking guy.  He was young, younger than me by a decade at least.  Claire and I were the same age, so I guessed that his dry toast aura magically changed to a hopped up street racer full of youthful exuberance in bed.  Let’s face it, if he didn’t, Claire would chew him up and spit him out.  Claire wasn’t one to waste time and was unapologetic.  If you didn’t measure up, she moved on.  Claire was a radiant lighthouse of seething sexuality, guiding many to her rocky shores, and there was always a line to take your place.  

 I decided not to make things any more awkward.  “Well, I gotta go finish setting up before the crowd comes in.”  I glanced at Claire.  “I’ll see you… ulp!”

 She planted her lips on mine, and her tongue flashed in.  I gently pushed her back, cognizant of her boyfriend standing right there, and broke the kiss.

 I went back to my table, my lips still warm, and yes, my cock still stirring.  When you were with Claire, you were with Claire.  When you were not with Claire, she was a free, sexual, and very wild spirit.  She was a goddess, with long curly hair, suave skin, and polar icecap eyes.  

 It was a little weird for her to be that open in front of her current boyfriend, and I couldn’t help but fantasize they were on the way out and she was thinking of rekindling an old flame, but it was just that: Fantasy.  Claire didn’t need a middle aged couch dweller like me anymore.  She needed a stallion.

 I grinned, and decided to live vicariously through George.

 “Go get ‘em, kid.”  I whispered my encouragement.

 But as the convention began, and the crowd shuffled in, I couldn’t help but peer up the row and watch Claire work her magic.

 She stood in front of her table like a temple of beauty, beguiling customers in.  She didn’t have to sell anything.  She left her aura to do that.  She only had to smile, admire someone’s watch, or tie, and they would linger, and then buy something as an excuse to stay a little longer.

 At my table, I handed out some pamphlets, explained the tech, and got some positive nods, which was to be expected.  My goal was to get my name out there and hopefully drum up some future business.

 As I talked to one potential customer, I noticed Claire walk over and pick up my brochure and carefully began to read it.  This caused other potentials to slow as they passed, step back, and pick up a brochure.

 Then she began her magic.

 It took her less than a minute to grasp the tech, analyze the market and customer base, learn the lingo, and line them up.

 I was starting a new side gig.  In the city were hundreds of manufacturers operating machines built during the industrial revolution that currently ran held together by bent paperclips and a prayer.  I had dumped all my savings into a fabricator that when programed properly, could take a hunk of metal, steel, iron, aluminum, and carve it into whatever you needed; meaning I could produce replacement parts for hundred plus year old machines.

 I had spent all day with casual glances and handed out four pamphlets.  Claire had them signing up and placing orders in minutes.

 By the end of the day I had to stop taking sales as I was now on six month back order.  

 I blinked, stunned.  “I owe you dinner!”

 She smiled devilishly.  “George is securing our booth,”  She looked at my table.  “and you don’t have any actual merchandise,”  She looked up at me, her blue eyes peering through her long lashes.   “Walk me up to my hotel room and let me change.”

 I looked abashed.  “Oh, I think I’m going to need adult supervision.”

 “Why?”  She leaned slightly and showed off her cavernous cleavage.  “We’re both adults.”

 I glanced nervously up the row where George was.

 She leaned close.  “He can get his own adult.  I already told him I was going to fuck you.”

 I blushed.  “I should get condoms.”  I murmured in a half joke.

 Claire almost laughed.  “I know you, Mac.”

 We made out in the elevator.

 She took my hand, slipped it under her skirt, and plunged my fingers up into fiery snatch as she sucked deep on my tongue.  The doors opened for another floor and we unhitched and stood there while someone boarded.  They took one look at us standing against the back of the elevator, and decided to take another car.

 We went at it when the doors closed again.

 On her floor, we ran to her room giggling like teenagers.  Once inside, we stripped off our clothes before the door closed.

 Claire grabbed me, pushed me down in to the chair and quickly mounted me.  She slid her glistening snatch against my throbbing manhood before sliding me deep within.  She shuttered, her nails digging in, and I felt her warm tunnel spasm.

 “Don’t move.”  She commanded, and rocked her hips ever so slightly.  She leaned forward with her pendulous melons and pressed her nipple into my mouth.

 I sucked like a starving man and she came hard as her powerful body clenched tightly against me.  She screamed like a thunderstorm.

 “Oh, fuck!”  She panted, shivering.  “That was… fuck I missed you.”  Shuddering, she climbed off me.  “Give me a moment, let me finish you.”

 I opened my mouth to speak, but she shushed me with a kiss.  

 “You be quiet now.”  She whispered.  “Oh, I needed that.”  She shifted to her knees and held my cock.  “Just as I need this.”

 I felt her lips ring around me as her talented tongue went to work.  She slowly nodded her head, pushing just to the point of gagging, and I clutched the arms of the chair as I felt my wave build.

 Her lips, her hot tongue curling like a lizard, her soft cheeks like a cave to the center of the Earth, Claire touched the all the points using the map she had made of my dick so long ago.

 I grunted like a raged bear as I came.

 I laid back in the chair, amazed and stunned.

 Claire got up, a little shaky, and glanced at me with a dubious look, her cheeks a little bulging.  She gave me a casual side glance, then slipped over to the door of her connected suite and opened it.

 Sitting on the edge of the bed was George.

 She walked up to him, grabbed his face, and pinched his jaw until it opened, then threw her mouth over his.  When he gagged from the sudden, salty brine she spat into his mouth, she held onto him.  “Don’t you dare spit it out.  And don’t you swallow it!”  She barked.  “Hold it on your tongue.  I want you to taste a real man’s cum!  You hold it there until I come back.”

 She came back into the room, and closed the door behind her.

 She was smirking.

 I didn’t know what had just happened, but I was hard as a rock.



Teaser.  For the whole, 9,000 word story and access to many other tales of kink and erotic horror, consider supporting us at:
https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1832440

Copyrighted, 5/2025, all rights reserved.

The Farm

By DX

Copyrighted, 3/2025, all rights reserved.

 “Emma is demonstrating our new, Cowgirl line!”  

 Candice called out like a circus ringmaster and reeled in the meandering crowd.  “Take a look, folks!  Emma is happiest when she has a crowd to watch her get milked!”

 Emma smiled gently, and placed her teats, the size of her thumbs, into milking nozzles.  As the nozzles began to suck, Emma felt the thrilling, erotic sensation flow though her.  She masked her emotions with sheer will, and only smiled pleasantly at her audience.  She gave her head a shake to get her wild, red hair out of her face, as she cast her emerald eyes to the approaching gaggle of people.  She shrugged her shoulders back to help her back with the strain of her heavy, milk laden teats. 

 “First her nose ring,”  Candice went on.  “which not only insures obedience, just give a little tug and she'll follow you anywhere, but also insures her unobstructed breathing; which comes in handy when she uses that nanite enhanced mouth and tongue to keep the farm hands happy.  An O-chip at the back of her tongue keeps her coming for more!”

 Emma longed for a farm hand, or suitable cock, and her eyes searched the growing crowd for one.  As her teats were being suckled, her hormones raged, and only the smooth feel of a delicate skin against the back of her tongue could bring her the wild pleasure she needed to orgasm.  It was maddening!  

 She could only smile as the audience stepped closer for a good look.  There were no farm hands, or suitable cocks.

 “The collar around her neck insures her only sounds are gentle mooing.”  Candace explained.  “For her primary feature, her breast shield, nanites have surgically separated her nipples into four, then stimulated the breast tissue growth giving her four breasts.  The naturally occurring sugars in her produced milk can be adjusted to give each breast a different flavor: Regular, chocolate, strawberry and banana. These can be customized to your cow.  Other options include the above, plus: whole, 2%, heavy cream, and Beer.”  Candace brandished a sloshing mug of foaming beer and took a long pull.  “Mmmm!  You won't believe it until you try it!”  She exclaimed with her beer mustache. 

 Emma smiled, and nodded to the crowd, while she clenched her teeth and prayed that once, just this once, the milking machine would let her come, and not insistently tease her.

 “Of course, Emma's package is finished off with a Chasti-Permalock Vaginal Shield, so none of her pent up energies are wasted!”

 Emma couldn’t help but wonder if that were true; that an orgasm wasted a hucow’s energy.  It sounded silly, implausible, but they showed her the science, the research.  Every thing indicated that a chaste cow produced a higher yield and better quality milk.

 “Its our most productive Chasti product to date!”  Candace wrapped up her presentation.  “Order yours now and become the Cowgirl of your dreams!”

 The machine shut off and Emma pulled her teats from the nozzles.  She pulled up her bra and shifted it in place.  It was tight, and she looked lovingly down at her nanite enhanced breasts.

 They were getting bigger.  Much, much bigger.  With her arms outstretched, she could barely reach her hands around to touch her finger tips together.  Soon, she wouldn’t be able to do that.  Soon, she would be unable to reach her own teats and would need a farmhand to do it.

 Preferably a farmhand with a suitable cock.

 Assuming there was a farmhand with a suitable cock left in the world.  With a population of 1,331 to 1, female/male ratio, finding a male, with a suitable cock, (suitable; meaning still worked and wasn’t in permalock chastity) was like finding a unicorn. 

 Still smiling, Emma meandered into the crowd and took pictures with the potential customers, while Candace signed people up for orders.  

 Home hucow milk production was all the rage.

 When they announced the fair was closing for the day, Emma packed up as Candace took a couple final orders.  With a huge smile on her face, Candace took Emma’s leash and led her to their trailer.

 “We have exceeded quota, kid!”  Candace exclaimed stepping inside.  She smiled brightly as Emma closed the door behind her.  “And that is thanks to you!”

 Emma mooed.  Then mooed again, looking at Candace’s data-pad.

 Her face flashed with confusion.  “Oh, you want to see the numbers?”

 Emma shook her head.  She mooed, and looked at the pad.

 “Oh, you want to talk?”

 Emma nodded.

 Candace laughed.  “Well, why didn’t you saw so?”  She accessed the bio-lock on the pad and handed it to her.

 Emma typed.  “It time.”  The pad spoke her text to voice with a British accent.  “Tape, please.”

 Candace’s face drained.  “Are you sure?”

 Emma nodded as she typed.  “Tape.  You measure.”

 Candace hissed angrily and took the data-pad from Emma.  She held it up and tapped the screen, first of Emma’s front, then Emma’s profile.  Her face lost all emotion as she looked at the results.  “Yeah, you’re right.  You’ve made quota too, in a way.  Your contract was until you grew to a pre-determined volume size, and you have met that size.  Hucow stage 2.”  She looked up determinedly.  “Listen, we’re a good team here.  I can talk to the guys upstairs and get an extension…” 

 Emma shook her head, and looked at the data-pad.  Reluctantly, Candace handed it to her.  “It’s happening.”  Emma typed.  “I can feel it.  I can feel my mind slow, become hucow.  I would like to go to the farm now.”

 Candace wrestled with her thoughts.  “You have that right, but would you be happy as a hucow?  I mean, a real hucow?”

 Emma brightened.  “Yes!  It all I want.  It will soon happen and I am excited.”  She looked at her partner affectionately.  “Time now.  I feel the nanites are in my arms.  They will soon be gone.  Hucows don’t need arms.  Soon, real hucow.  Soon happy.”

 Candace conceded.  “Yeah, well you deserved it.  You’ve been an excellent partner.”  She sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside her.  When Emma sat, Candace took the data-pad and tapped on its screen.  “Well, let’s see where you are going.”  She brought up the address.  “Blah, kinda dark.  One of those industrial places.”

 Emma shrugged.

 Candace sighed sadly.  “Emma, you’ve become more than my co-worker.  You’ve become my friend.  I just want you to be happy.”

 Emma hugged her, as Candace’s face swept with tears.  

 Candace wiped her face with the back of her hand.  “Right!  Let’s do this properly.”  She announced, determinedly.  “I’ll contact the factory and…”  Her eyes focused on the web page’s publicity photos.  “Oh, oh.”  Candace murmured, pointing to the screen.  “Look at that set up!  Their milking machines only handle hucows with two teats.  Not four.”  Her fingers flashed on the pad.  “I’ll send them a text and ask if they can handle you.”

 Long seconds passed before a response came.

 Candace looked at Emma, her face slack.  “I’m sorry, Emma.  Our tech is so new…”  She brightened.  “I’ll search on line.  There has to be someone…  someone not so dismal.”  Her fingers flashed, and her head knocked back as she looked at a response.  “Novelty cow?”  Her fingers pounded against the board.  “You are not a novelty cow!  Argh!  They’re looking at only your milk production and not counting your other flavors.”  She tried accessing a real-person.  Failing that, she paused to think.  She looked back at Emma.  “We’ll get this sorted.”  She said reassuringly.

 “Moo.”  Emma said, smiling.

 As Candace tapped on the screen, a response popped up.  ‘Did you try Farmer Brown?’

 “Will try, thanks.”  Candace messaged back, and brought up Farmer Brown’s info.  There was a picture of a man with a graying beard spread across his chest like a bib.

 Emma peered in close, and Candace shooed her back.  “Settle down, you.  It’s just a logo.  I seriously doubt it’s a man running the farm.”

 “Moo.”  Emma said, excitedly.

 “The chances of him having a working penis is a billion to one, literally.”  Candace frowned as she fanned through the farm’s images.

 Emma and Candace watched a video tour.  Farmer Brown smiled and waved, his face a little embarrassed.  The narrator was a woman, who talked about the advantages of organic farming and free-ranged hucows.  She panned the camera and showed hucows walking through a shady glenn.  Their udders were magnificent!  Giant breasts tens of thousands of CC’s in size.  As the narrator made her way through the field, the hucows slowly approached her, mooing happily for attention.  Within moments, the narrator was holding the camera above her head and panned down, showing a beautiful, raven haired woman being surrounded by tit flesh and giggling hucows.  “Come to Farmer Brown’s farm!”

 The video ended.

Teaser:  For the whole, 5,000 word story, consider supporting us at:
https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1773800

Copyright, 3/2035, all rights reserved.
[email protected]