All characters depicted are over the age of 18, and this is entirely a work of fiction, obviously. This story contains themes of corruption, betrayal, and mind-break. For now I’m calling this setting Monster Girl World. I’m not sure if I’ll write more stories set in this world, but if you’d like to read them let me know.
“I’m going to be a cow. I just know it.”
It was the fourth time today that Becca had said the exact same thing, and it was getting on Vanessa’s nerves. She wanted to tell her friend to suck it up and stop complaining. Instead, she offered kind words of reassurance, same as each time before. She plastered a comforting look across her face. The deception came easy. She’d needed it more and more often with Becca lately.
“You don’t know that. Not everyone takes after their mom. You could end up as a harpy, a slime, a vampire, or even an angel!”
Becca turned to face her, and gave a wistful smile. They sat at the kitchen table at Vanessa’s house. Vanessa reached over and gave Becca’s shoulder a half-hearted pat. Despite her words, Becca had every reason to worry. Although it was true that girls didn’t always take after their mother when they reached morphing age, they usually did. The chances were about 70-30. Not great. Becca’s mom was a holstaur. Breeding stock. If Becca also morphed into a holstaur she would be too.
“I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Imagine if we both become angels. We could eventually join the council together!”
Becca’s smile widened as she pictured it. An escape from her fate. Vanessa knew that the chances of such a thing were next to nothing though. Even if Becca wasn’t a holstaur, angels were an exceptionally rare morph. The rarest, along with demons. The ruling council was made up of seven of each, and made decisions in the interest of their society. Vanessa had much better chances than Becca though. Her own mother, Shara, was an angel, and she fully expected to be as well. The scientists said that your pre-morph traits weren’t indicators of what you would become, but it was still a common superstition. Vanessa even suspected it was true.
After all, she had the same glorious blonde hair, and shining blue eyes as her mother. Her body held a tight, supple figure worthy of an angel. Her grades were immaculate, and angels were among the most intelligent of monster girls. Surely that wasn’t a coincidence. She glanced at her daydreaming friend. If not, Becca may be doomed after all. Her body was soft and curvy, with enormous breasts. She was an airhead, and her scores were abysmal. Poor thing. Vanessa would miss her. Becca turned excitedly.
“Thanks Nessa. I’m going to stay positive!”
“What are you staying positive about, Bessie?”
Another girl stepped through the archway into the kitchen. She was lean and athletic, with long black hair tied in a ponytail with a fringe of bangs. Due to her mother’s position, Vanessa’s house was enormous, and they hadn’t heard her enter. Claire pulled out a seat and joined them at the table, withdrawing a heavy textbook from her bag. Becca shrank in her chair and looked away.
“Don’t call her that. Becca is worrying about her morph again.”
Claire laughed. “Once you’re a holstaur you won’t have to worry about anything.”
“Claire, don’t!” Vanessa couldn’t help but let out a laugh of her own though.
Claire and Becca had never been close, tied together only by their friendship to Vanessa. Claire had always been sharp tongued, and when she turned twenty a week ago and began her morph, her humor had only gotten crueler. She took after her mother, a lamia. Already, her eyes were a pale yellow, and her pupils had narrowed to slits. She was growing taller and lankier by the day. Eventually, she said, her legs would grow scales and fuse to form a tail. Lamia were respected well enough, but had a reputation for deceit. Still, they were vital members of society. Many of them went to work with the males. Their knack for tracking and subduing their victims made them excellent at capturing any who escaped.
Vanessa decided she could live with being a lamia. Becca did her best not to provoke Claire’s ire as they began working on their assignment. As usual, Becca frantically tried to keep up as Claire and Vanessa did all the work. It was their last semester at school, and they were eager to be done. To morph and become adults. True members of society.
Some five hundred years ago, back when men were still in charge, a mad wizard wrought a curse upon the world that spread like a virus. It only affected females, turning them into monstrous creatures when they reached adulthood. The world had fallen into chaos as it consumed more and more women.
Many morphs, as they now called them, fed on humans, or else had some other predatory lifestyle. Wars were fought to exterminate the monster girls, then over resources as the nations collapsed, then finally over the humans themselves as the monster girls seized power. Eventually, the angels and demons formed a pact and waged a relentless war that brought the entire world to heel under their rule. The demons sought power. The angels peace and order. Both morphs were immensely powerful, and they worked surprisingly well together.
Their new society had been stable now for nearly two hundred years. Each morph had their place. Men were kept under strict supervision. Any magicians were culled. Their populations and privileges were tightly controlled. Morphing was no longer a curse, but an exciting event. The single most important moment of a girl’s life. Some morphs could guarantee a long and happy life. Others would mean various inconveniences, but still granted a host of unique abilities. They were all considered gifts. All but one.
Holstaurs were the cornerstone of their society. Scientists discovered a way to use their bodies as incubators for a biological cocktail that contained all the nutrients any monster girl needed, regardless of morph. Vampires, slimes, gorgons, and the other dangerous morphs were all free to live without fear of retaliation.
Once the wars were over, however, their population boomed. To keep up with the demand, holstaurs were factory farmed. Taken as property of the state, and brought to facilities where they spent the rest of their lives serving the greater good. It was a favor, really. That’s what the schools taught. Holstaurs were the least intelligent morph, losing most of their cognitive function in a matter of weeks as soon as they turned twenty. They couldn’t care for themselves. They were like animals. Better that they were taken care of by professionals.
To sustain the Holstaur population, and to ensure their milk flowed abundantly they were also bred constantly. Because their children were born human, they were granted the same rights as any other girl, at least until they morphed. They were watched closely, and each already had a number, as though their fate was already sealed. Becca said hers was C-417. Vanessa thought it was a little cruel to intentionally breed humans that would end up as livestock more often than not. Her mother assured her it was for the greater good. Angels were compassionate creatures, so Vanessa knew she was probably right.
When they finally finished their work, they sat around and talked. Becca finally warmed up, and Claire was on her best behavior. They listed off everyone whose morph they knew. Ashley was a pixie, Theresa a dullahan, and there were rumors that Elizabeth was a dragon. They all agreed that it would be cool to know a dragon. Vanessa’s jealousy simmered in the background. She was the youngest in their class, and she ached for the moment she could announce, triumphantly, that she was an angel. A member of the elite, like her mother. Becca’s morph would first though, in just a week. Vanessa had to wait three whole months.
Darkness fell, and her mother arrived home as Vanessa’s friends were packing to leave. She glided into the room, filling it with her radiance and beauty. Her long golden hair seemed to sway slightly in an invisible breeze. Her wings, covered with snow-white feathers, cast a shadow across them. She smiled, and Vanessa was filled with her warm affection. Having an angel as a mother was amazing. She was always cared for, loved, and doted upon. They lived in a mansion. Were free to travel anywhere they liked, and Her mother’s position on the ruling council had had no small effect on Vanessa’s popularity.
“Becca, Claire. How nice to see you!”
“Hello Ms. Everdawn.”
They were both blushing. Even having met her multiple times, her mother’s presence overwhelmed them.
“Hey mom.”
“How are you girls doing?”
Becca said she was fine. Claire gave a noncommittal grunt.
“Becca is still worried about her morph.” Vanessa noted.
With no mother of her own, Becca had always looked up to Vanessa’s mom. Maybe she’d shut up if she heard it from her. Her mother laughed. Not cruelly though. It was a reassuring, tinkling laugh. Musical.
“That’s a silly thing to worry about. All morphs are equally special.”
“…Even cows?”
“Yes, even holstaurs.” She avoided the derogatory term. “Without them, society would fall apart. We owe them everything. And I assure you they’re well taken care of. Even if that happens, I promise you’ll be happy.”
Coming from her mother it sounded true. Becca didn’t look convinced though. Her mother noticed too.
“If you want, I can bring you to the farm one day, to see what it’s like. Maybe we can even find your mother? Human girls usually aren’t allowed, but they’ll make a special exception for me.”
“R-really?”
“Sure.”
The idea seemed to cheer Becca up, or at least distract her.
“Would either of you like me to teleport you home?”
Claire and Becca nodded, and her mother’s magic flared. An arcane circle bloomed on the floor beneath each of them, and in a flash of light they were gone. Vanessa couldn’t wait to use magic.
“Will you really take her to the farm?”
“Of course.”
“Can I come?” Vanessa had to admit, she was curious.
“No.”
That seemed to end the discussion. Her mother was a stickler for rules. Came with being an angel. In fact, Vanessa was surprised to hear her offer the trip at all. She supposed that in this instance her empathy won out.
The next day, her mother made good on her word. At least Vanessa assumed so, because Becca was absent from class. When they returned the following day Becca was mostly silent, and spent all day staring out the window with a sad expression. Great, it seemed the plan had backfired. Now they had to deal with this for a week.
“Did you find your mom?”
“…yes.”
“Was she happy?”
For a long time Becca was silent. Then, in a whisper she said, “yeah.”
That weekend, Becca’s feet began to morph into hooves. Vanessa didn’t get a chance to see her before she was taken to the farm.
– – – – –
Two weeks passed. She and Claire continued to hang out. They rarely mentioned Becca. Vanessa was sad, of course, but she supposed it had been inevitable. They all knew it could happen. Her mother had said that Becca would be happy, and Vanessa believed her.
Shiny golden brown scales formed all over Claire’s legs, and she spent three awkward days with crutches while her tail developed. She looked hilarious, hobbling around with a single fat, lumpy appendage. Then she came over, crutch free, and got her revenge for Vanessa’s teasing by binding her in a death grip until she apologized and they both fell, laughing, to the floor. They marveled at how powerful and muscular her tail was. How easily she could maneuver now. When she raised herself up to full height she reached over 8 feet, and she was still growing.
Vanessa found herself wondering about Becca’s progress. Were her hooves complete? Had fur grown along her legs? Did she have horns? Would those gigantic breasts be even bigger? How much of her intelligence was left? Would Becca even remember her? The questions plagued her, and when her mother arrived home she requested a trip to the farm. She’d been prepared to argue her case, but her mother must have sensed her resolve, and agreed.
“To see Becca, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure sweety. Besides, it’s time you start learning more about how things are run.”
She smiled, and Vanessa glowed with pride.
– – – – –
The next day, she was given permission to skip class, and her mother teleported them to the farm. They were in a small grey room. Her mother snapped and torches flickered to life along the wall. There were several comfortable looking chairs and an ornate table. In the far wall was a large set of double doors.
“This is the council room. We use it for teleportation arrivals and if we need to meet here for some reason. Wait here.”
Her mother strode to the double doors. Her white heels clicked on the hard stone surface of the floor. The doors looked heavy, but her mother threw them open with ease. Then she disappeared into the darkness of the hallway beyond, and they clicked shut behind her. Vanessa took a seat at the table and pretended she was at a council meeting. She shifted and imagined the weight of her wings, feathered all in glorious white, as they rocked with the motion.
Some time later, the doors opened again, startling her. Vanessa lept from the chair. Her mother had returned, and beside her was a green translucent figure. A slime girl. The shape she chose was that of a sultry woman with wide hips and ample bosom. She appeared to be in her late thirties, and Vanessa could make out the contours and ridges of clothing that looked like office clothes. A pencil skirt and ruffled shirt. It was customary for them to imitate clothing, even though they were still technically naked. Though they took a human appearance with others, Vanessa knew their true forms were amorphous. What the slime’s true age was, she couldn’t guess. They apparently lived nearly forever unless killed.
“This is Raza. I have to take care of some council business, so she’ll take you to Becca.”
Raza cleared her throat and interrupted. “C-417 ma’am”
“Of course, my apologies. Nessa, please go with her and be sure to do as you’re told.”
“Yes ma’am.” Her mother was loving, but strict. Vanessa knew better than to disobey.
Another circle, a flash of white, and her mother was gone. Probably to the other side of the planet to solve some crisis or other. While she toured a farm. What was she even doing here? Soon she’d join her mother, she reminded herself. No point fretting while she was still human. Raza beckoned her and she followed the woman into the dark hall. It ended at an elevator. As they rode it up Raza began explaining.
“We’ve relocated C-417 from her usual pen into a cell for the visit. We usually use it for breeding, but we’ve done our best to clean up. We don’t normally allow visitors so there’s nowhere else.”
She glanced at Vanessa. Presumably to check if she was still listening. She gave a dignified nod. The kind he mother used.
“She’s still being transitioned into her new life. It’s a delicate stage for her, so try to avoid anything traumatic like using her old name. She’s C-417.”
“Will she recognize me?”
“Oh yes. They usually recognize friends and loved ones until well into their second year. Although their conversational ability drops off rapidly. She can still talk, but she’s been rather disobedient so we’ve taken measures to bring her in line that may make it difficult.”
Vanessa wondered what that meant, but she supposed she’d find out. Raza continued.
“Of course we usually forbid them from using language as soon as they arrive. Helps them prepare for when they lose the ability, you see. But we’ll make an exception for your visit. Talk with her if you like.”
How long was this elevator shaft? She’d always pictured the farm as open fields of green dotted with barns. Not whatever this underground facility was. They’d already passed 10 floors.
“Normally children wouldn’t be allowed, you’re only here by special dispensation so mind yourself and be careful.”
“I’m not a child. I’m almost twenty.”
“You’re still human. That makes you a child.”
“I’ll follow your rules.” Feeling bold, Vanessa tacked on, “Just be careful with your tone. I’ll be an angel soon, and on the council one day.”
“My. I’d better be careful.” Her voice was dry.
Finally the elevator came to a halt, and opened into another windowless hall. This one was lit from above by fluorescent lights. They followed it until it reached a larger hall. Here, a handful of workers were making their way too and fro. Most of them were slime girls like Raza. Vanessa wondered why that was. They came in all manner of shades. Vanessa liked Raza’s green the best, but pink was a close second she decided.
Metal doors lined the walls, each had a small window with a slat that could slide open. Sounds of fornication escaped through them and echoed through the hall. Incoherent cow-like moans, and rough deep grunting of males. Vanessa blushed, picturing Becca behind one of these doors, being bred like an animal.
Further down the hall she spotted a worker leading a tall tan skinned male. He wore a collar with a leash attached, and his hands were shackled in front of him. Vanessa stared. She’d never seen a male in person. He was nude, and his flaccid member bounced with each step. He looked up as they got close, surprise filled his eyes, and he stopped moving. The worker tugged at his leash and ordered him to move. Instead he lunged for vanessa.
“You’re human, right?! You have to help me. Please get me out of here!”
Vanessa shrank back. Raza stepped in front protectively, but the other worker managed to stop him from reaching her. Raza glared at him.
“You know better than to step out of line. And how dare you insult our visitor? She’s nothing like you.”
She slapped him across the cheek. Residue from her body remained, and the male’s skin beneath began to hiss and burn. He screamed and fell to his knees. Vanessa wanted to help him.
“Pay him no mind.” Raza placed a hand on her back and gently pushed. She flinched, but there was no burning or hissing. Stupid, Vanessa. Of course there wasn’t. Slime girls could control the reactivity of their slime. Raza meant her no harm.
“Thank you.” She said after they resumed their walk.
“Of course. Anything for a future council member”
Vanessa couldn’t tell if Raza was being sarcastic, so she changed the subject.
“Will he be okay?”
“He’s a human.” For the first time she smiled. “Right now so are you. It’s natural for you to pity him, but after you morph you’ll see that they’re not worth it.”
Eventually they stopped before one of the doors. It looked like all the others. No number or sign. She asked Raza how they could tell them apart.
“We have our ways.” Was all she got in return.
Raza gripped the handle and pulled. The door swung out, and revealed Becca. Her face was one of both fear and excitement. Then she recognized Vanessa, flushed scarlet, and tried to hide, but the room was empty and the best she could do was hunch in the corner. They used this room for mating. Vanessa realized that Becca may have expected a male. Had Becca wanted that? To be bred? Was she already that far gone? Judging by how she looked she might be.
Her legs were covered in white fur, spotted with brown, from her ankles to mid thigh. Her feet were the hard hooves of a cow. And she’d grown long fuzzy ears that hung down from the sides of her head. One of them was pierced with a pink tag labeled C-417, and she wore a thick leather collar with the same number. But what drew Vanessa’s attention were her breasts.
They were massive. Even turned away, trying to hide in the corner they curved out far beyond what her back could obscure. They were obscene. How heavy were they? Could she even walk? Two small nubs, her horns, sprouted from her shock of brown hair. Her tail was curled between her legs.
“C-417 you have a visitor. I expect you to behave. This is a special treat, understood?”
“Yeth…” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“What was that?!”
Raza took an authoritative tone. She took a step closer, and Becca shrank. What little of her face Vanessa could see somehow grew even redder. Then she let out a warbly “Moo”.
“Good girl.” She turned back to Vanessa. I’ll give you two some privacy. Please remember the rules. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Raza stepped out and closed the door, locking them both in. For a moment she panicked that the woman wouldn’t let her out.
“Raza!” She called through the bars. She looked away before continuing. “Is it safe to be alone here?”
“Of course, Holstaurs are naturally docile. If she acts up though, just give her a good smack and she’ll behave.”
The voice grew quieter. Raza was leaving. She was alone in a cell with a holstaur. She turned. Becca’s tail was slowly withdrawing from between her legs and she was relaxing. Becca turned her head slightly until she could watch Vanessa with one eye. Awkward silence filled the room.
“So… how is it?”
Becca closed her eyes. Then she opened them, filled with determination and turned around. She was still crouched, and her breasts swayed pendulously, throwing her off balance. She had to steady herself with a hand on the floor. They looked even bigger from the front. Each one larger than her head. Her nipples were long and thick, half the length of Vanessa’s pinky finger. She could see a white droplet beginning to form on one of them. Her hips too, had filled out. She had a thick round ass that, paired with her chest made her soft belly look narrow by comparison.
Worried her gaze was lingering too long on Becca’s naked body, she studied her friend’s face. Becca’s tongue was out. At first she thought Becca was teasing her. Then she realized that it was pierced with a large metal loop about an inch in diameter. Attached to the loop was a round iron weight. It pulled her tongue down, stretching it and preventing it from moving. This is what Raza meant when she said it would be difficult for her to talk.
“Netha, Geh meh ow oh heh.”
Tears were welling up in Becca’s eyes, and drool dripped from her mouth as she spoke. She attempted to stand, struggling to find balance with the overgrown mammaries. Their weight caused her to tip forward and she fell to her knees again. She seemed so pathetic.
“Oh Becca, you know I can’t.”
“Pleath.”
“No, I’m just here to visit.”
“Theyah do tewwible thinth heeya.”
It took a moment for Vanessa to parse the words. ‘They do terrible things here’ she thought. Becca was struggling with the weight. Vanessa reached forward and took it in her palm, and lifted it. Becca’s eyes followed her hand until they were crossed. A look of surprise filled her face as the tension eased. The solution was obvious, but not, she supposed for a Holstaur.
“Thanth.”
“You’re welcome.”
She tried to affect her mother’s warm smile. It seemed to work, because Becca’s own cheeks pulled into a smile. She really seemed like an animal. Becca settled into a stance on her hands and knees. It was probably more comfortable for her. Her engorged nipples dragged along the floor as her breasts swayed. Vanessa noticed Becca’s eyes flutter, and a gasp escaped her as they did. Apparently it was true that holstaurs’ breasts were far more sensitive than those of a human.
“What are they doing?”
“They twap me and milk me all day, and they give me dwugs that make me dumb. It feelth so good and I hate it.”
“Oh Becca, they’re not making you dumb. That’s just your morph.”
“No they gif me injecthons.”
She was easier to understand now, but the weight still prevented her tongue from fully entering her mouth. Drool dripped onto Vanessa’s hand. Gross. Becca was struggling to deal with her true nature. Vanessa pitied her position, but there was nothing she could do. Becca would have to live with her lot in life. Curiosity guided her free hand as she brought it down to cradle one of Becca’s huge tits. Becca yelped and looked down, surprised.
“Wha are you doin?”
“They’re so heavy. Can you even stand?”
Vanessa’s hand traced along the swelling curve, down toward her dangling nipple. Becca blushed, and her eyes fluttered again. She spoke in a gasp.
“Yeth. Netha thop.”
Despite her words Becca leaned forward, into Vanessa’s hand. Her eyes were pleading. Becca may be upset, but she needed to know her place. It would only hurt her if Vanessa indulged her dreams of escape. Her mother, her role model, always did what was right. For the greater good. If Vanessa was to be worthy of her future position on the council, she’d need to do the right thing too, however difficult. For the greater good, for her mother, and even for Becca. She would be strong.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Her voice was cold. She let the weight fall. Becca’s head lurched forward a bit. She gave a startled yelp.
“Wha ah you doin?”
Vanessa’s hand found Becca’s right nipple. She wrapped her fingers around it and gave a tug. White liquid sprayed the floor. Becca gave a baldry moan. She tried to pull away but Vanessa grabbed her collar and pulled her back. Becca was heavier than her, probably stronger too, but her submissive nature prevented her from resisting fully. Becca’s brows knit together. Her eyes were watering. Vanessa let out all the pent up frustration at Becca that had built up the weeks earlier.
“You’re a holstaur now. A cow. Deal with it.”
Becca reacted as if the words were a physical blow. Tears finally overflowed and streamed down her cheeks. Vanessa hardened her heart and continued. It was for her own good. She’d convince Becca to settle down. Maybe then Raza would recognize her superior talent.
“No more talk of escape, no more resisting. Understood?”
Becca shook her head and began frantically begging.
“Netha, no. Pleath. I’m your fwiend!”
Becca’s next words were cut off as Vanessa squeezed the nipple as hard as she could. Becca moaned in pleasure.
“Becca was my friend. You’re C-417 now.”
“No…”
“Yes.” Vanessa punctuated it with another squeeze. There was a puddle of white on the floor now. Becca’s face was filled with betrayal, but her body gave her away. She was breathing heavily. Her back was arched and she slowly twerked her plump ass.
“Netha… I’m thowwy. Pleath jus thop.”
Her resistance was fading though. She was pushing herself back and forth in time with Vanessa’s continued squeezes. Holstaurs were always horny. Becca had hid it well at first, but now her body sought a mate. Vanessa adopted a motherly tone this time.
“Now, now. No fighting. Just do as you’re told. Please? For me?”
Becca’s cheeks were burning, drool ran down her tongue to the floor in long streams. Vanessa put a loving hand on the holstaur’s cheek and looked into her eyes. She saw the moment that Becca surrendered to her nature. Her expression changed. Relaxed. Becca smiled and began more eagerly leaning into her touch.
“Okay… jus for you.”
Raza had said she preferred her not to speak. Becca needed to practice for her new life. Vanessa mimicked Raza’s earlier tone.
“Try again.”
As she spoke she released Becca’s udder and withdrew her hand. Becca let out a whine and lurched forward. Her tits swung comically with the motion, dragging her nipples through the puddle of milk. Becca searched Vanessa’s eyes, her mind working overtime. Eventually, she pieced it together and let out another moo. Louder this time. It sounded natural. The weight didn’t hinder the sound the way it did normal speech. Maybe that’s why they used them.
“Good girl.” She gave Becca a pat on the head. She seemed to enjoy that. “Now, let’s give you a reward.”
She stood, and Becca craned her neck to watch her as she stepped behind her. Although the farm was largely a mystery to outsiders, they did teach how to milk a holstaur properly in school. Some lingering piece of curriculum from when they could still be found in the wild perhaps. Vanessa went to her knees behind Becca and leaned forward, pressing against her buttocks. She leaned forward, gradually putting more and more of her weight on the holstaur’s back, until she could reach down and take each nipple in a fist.
“Ohhh…” Becca let out an eager moan. She turned to face forward again, and began pushing back against Vanessa with a pulsating rhythm. Trying to mate. She didn’t seem to mind the extra weight. Her arms and legs would have grown stronger as she morphed, maybe for this very purpose. Holstaurs existed almost solely to mate, and this position made them comfortable. According to what she was taught in class, it also increased the flow of milk, and resulted in larger yields. The flow increased even further if she was actually mating, and being penetrated by a male, but that wasn’t very practical knowledge for most students. Only a few types of monster girls grew, or were capable of growing, a male sex organ. For now the added weight of Vanessa’s body, and the presence of her against Becca’s rump would be enough.
She began squeezing in time with the holstaur’s movements. Each time a spray of milk was ejected with enough force that she heard it splatter into the growing puddle. Backspray was covering her hands, along with Becca’s udders with milk. Vanessa couldn’t deny that she was growing aroused herself. She supposed it was her budding angelic nature, enjoying the control she had. Or that she’d worked up the will to help her friend despite her pity. Then a wicked thought crossed her mind that she couldn’t resist. She brought one milk covered hand up to Becca’s mouth. She opened wide and took Vanessa’s fingers into her mouth. She sucked on them as best she could without forming a perfect seal. Replacing her moans of pleasure with slurping noises.
After a while Vanessa grew tired and stood. The front of her shirt was smeared with holstaur fluids, and her hands and forearms were covered in milk. She had Becca- no, not Becca. She was C-417 now. She had C-417 clean off her hands as much as she could, and waited for Raza’s return. At first the holstaur yearned for more, even going so far as to issue a few begging ‘moo’s, but eventually she calmed down and regained her composure enough to issue a quiet plea.
“Netha, pleath don’t weave me here.”
Vanessa looked down her nose at C-417.
“They’re cwuwel.”
Vanessa snickered at her attempt to say ‘cruel’ with the weight on her tongue. If she talked this much, no wonder they’d given it to her.
“They’re doing what’s best for everyone. You’re helping society, and we all appreciate it.”
“No you don underthand!”
Her former friend reached up and took hold of her hand and desperately tried to stand on two legs. The weight of her nearly toppled Vanessa to the ground, she grabbed the door handle for support. Eventually Becca (it was hard to think of her as C-417 when she was standing and talking) managed to take a wide stance, with her knees bent inward and find some balance.
She placed a hand on each of Vanessa’s shoulders. The holstaur fixed her with a gaze that was the sharpest she’d seen so far. She spoke in complete sentences, with a complexity that was hard to parse from her distorted words, but Vannessa managed pieced it together as she spoke.
“They’re changing us. Not just the morph. To be easier to breed. Easier to control. Please, I don’t want to be this horny all the time. I don’t want to be stupid.”
Becca’s hands were damp with milk and it bled into her shirt. Great. Vanessa thought they were past this. She was tired of this game. Becca could fight her fate all she wanted, but she’d never escape. She shoved Becca away from her. She was surprisingly sturdy, and it pushed Vanessa back against the door. It had the desired effect though. The force broke Becca’s balance and one of her legs slipped in the milk, sliding out until her legs were far enough apart that it was nearly a split. She tipped forward, and just barely caught herself with her hands. Her breasts were squished up against the floor beneath her.
She looked up at Vanessa, surprised. Vanessa didn’t want to hurt her friend, but she needed to be strong. Her friend was gone, she reminded herself. It was for C-417’s own good, even if it sounded cruel.
“You were always stupid. Now you just have an excuse.”
Becca starred in betrayed silence. The door swung open, forcing Vanessa to take a step back, and Raza entered.
“I see you’ve been having some fun in here. We usually try not to waste the milk, but I’ve been listening in for a little while and I have to say, I’m impressed. Former friends and family usually struggle to accept the change. Your mother raised you well.”
The words stoked Vanessa’s pride. Below her, Becca had sunk back down to her hands and knees and was cowering away from Raza.
“C-417 I can see you’ve been a bad girl, so I’m going to give you an extra special dose of your medicine.”
In her hand she held a syringe filled with a transparent pink liquid. Becca’s eyes went wide at the sight of it, and she backed into the corner.
“No! No! I’ll be good, I pwomith!”
“What is it?”
Raza turned her attention to Vanessa.
“A drug that we give the holstaurs to keep them happy. Manufactured using succubus saliva and Lamia venom, the specifics are a secret of the slime collective, however.”
“What does it do?”
“It expands the pleasure centers of their brain, and rewires them to be more obedient. Once we start pumping them with the bio-fluids that add the necessary nutrients to their milk, the milk itself becomes an aphrodisiac. This prepares their body and minds to handle the constant exposure without breaking… too much.”
So it really did make them stupid.
“Are holstaurs not this dumb in the wild?”
“No. They also only go into heat a few times a year. That’s a closely held secret, by the way. I trust you’ll keep it that way.”
Vanessa nodded. So Becca was telling the truth. They were turning her stupid. Rewiring her brain to know only pleasure. Then they would pump her full of hormones and chemicals that would turn her life into a waking nightmare of constant lust. She’d exist only to dispense milk for the rest of her days.
“This dose is extra potent. We usually try to ramp up slowly, but C-417 here has given us so much trouble that we’re accelerating her treatment and transferring her. She’ll be what we call a ‘high flow unit’. They’re remodeled to simply produce as much milk as possible without concern for their physical or mental state. Due to the size of their udders after the modifications they become immobile so we permanently hook them up to a machine that milks them and maintains their body.”
Becca’s eyes were saucers. Her lip was trembling and Vanessa saw her terror growing with each word.
“They don’t live as long as the other livestock, so we save it for the cows who refuse to follow orders.”
“I’w be good. Shee foa wah se’en good giwal.”
Becca’s words came in a rush and were barely comprehensible. Vanessa didn’t blame her. She’d spend the rest of her life as a drooling idiot. Unable to even move. Vanessa wondered what it would look like for Becca’s udders to be even bigger.
“I want to do it.”
Vanessa held out her hand for the syringe. She didn’t know what came over her, but the idea of being the one to deliver the injection excited her. It was going to happen anyway. It might as well be her. Raza smiled cruelly at the idea.
“Sure. Just don’t tell your mother.”
She placed the syringe into Vanessa’s hand.
“Straight into her udder. Anywhere will work really, but their udders are erogenous zones so they feel less pain there.”
Becca had begun sobbing in the corner. She raised her arms defensively and half screamed, half mooed as Vanessa stalked toward her. Vanessa raised her voice and took on a commanding voice.
“Come here! Now!”
Holstaurs were naturally obedient. Or maybe the drugs so far had caused that. Either way, Becca’s instincts betrayed her and she lowered her hands and crawled forward.
“No… no.. netha why?”
Vanessa knelt and took Becca’s cheek tenderly in her hand.
“You’ll be happier this way. You’ll forget about your past life. No more worrying, or thoughts of escape.”
Becca was shaking her head.
“I’ll even come visit you again.” She hoped she’d be allowed. “You were never suited to life in society. I’ll give you the life you deserve.”
Becca’s tears fell uncontrollably. Vanessa felt a throbbing pleasure radiating from between thighs.
“Goodbye, Becca.”
She jabbed the needle into Becca’s left breast and pushed the plunger with her thumb. Becca’s limited mind had been focused on Vanessa and she’d forgotten the needle. As the injection went in Becca screamed, which became a shaking moo. Vanessa pulled the empty syringe back and Becca’s arms failed. She crumpled forward onto her pillowy chest, her ass still raised up on her knees. Her eyes rolled back and she began gyrating her hips uncontrollably.
Vanessa’s arousal swelled as she watched the lewd display. Becca’s moos grew louder and louder. She was an animal in heat, desperate for satisfaction. The flesh of her rear rippled with the motion, and the weight of her body caused milk to spray from her nipples as she rolled forward and back over her udders with each twerk. Some of it hit Vanessa’s hand. She absently licked it from her finger, Raza’s presence completely forgotten. It tasted slightly sweet, and she felt her arousal flare. She’d just destroyed her former friend’s mind with a single stroke of her thumb. She felt powerful.
Becca’s mooing choked off into a high pitch squeal and her body seized up. Vanessa could see her muscles working beneath the soft flesh. An orgasm, she realized. What did it feel like to cum so hard that you lost your mind? She burned the memory into her mind, intending to replay it later that night. Eventually Becca slowed and collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. I don’t want to think about what your mother would do to me if she saw you like this.”
“Sure.”
Vanessa tossed the empty syringe to the milk-soaked floor and followed Raza out. Her mind was in a daze. She was taken to a room where she could clean up, and given a fresh set of clothes. Scrubs like the other non-slime workers. She felt like she belonged here. They returned to the ornate room to find her mother waiting for them, sitting radiantly in a soft chair with one leg crossed. She stretched her wings to the sides before standing.
“How was it?”
“I want to work here.”
The statement seemed to surprise her mother.
“That’s not my decision. I’ve already overstepped the bounds of my authority with this visit. I won’t interfere in farm business any more than I already have.”
Vanessa’s heart fell, but Raza surprised her.
“I’ll have to clear it with the director but I’m sure we can find something for her. An internship perhaps? Vanessa handled herself well today.”
“Very well then. Nessa, thank Raza and we’ll be off.”
Vanessa did, and Raza winked back. Vanessa hadn’t liked her at first, but the slime girl had grown on her. She felt like a kindred spirit. They teleported back home, and Vanessa quickly retreated to her room. Her sex yearned for attention. She leapt into bed and relived the events of the day. Her hand slipped beneath her underwear and she deftly worked at her soaking mound. In her mind she was milking Becca again, ordering her, forcing her into obedience. Becca had thought Vanessa would save her from the treatments, the drugs. Instead Vanessa had been the one to deliver them. She remembered the resistance of the soft skin of Becca’s breasts giving way to the needle. The plunger slowly delivering a poison that would flood her veins and wipe away her sanity. The hurt in her eyes as she realized she was doomed. Vanessa came. She couldn’t wait to return to the farm.