Cat – College Cowgirl Ch. 01

Amateur

*Note: This story contains lactation, milking and consensual hucow hypnosis. Originally written on for Cat (and for all you other aspiring hucows out there).

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It had all begun when your new room mate Keira had moved in with you. Classes had begun and your world had once more settled into the regular mania of college life – lectures, assignments, late nights and far too much ramen. Keira was for all intents and purposes a very good roommate – clean and very amicable, except she had absolutely no boundaries. She’d most often be topless while in the room unless you specifically asked her to put on a shirt. It had proven annoying on a few occasions when you had brought home boys just for them to slack-jaw stare at her – all the way out the front door. You couldn’t really blame them too much, hell even you couldn’t help but envy her voluptuous tanned 34DD’s.

One free Wednesday morning when you thought she was out at her usual pharmacology class, you had idly begun playing with your boobs. This quickly turned into masturbating. The combination of being lost in your thoughts and the hum of the vibrator had made you miss the fact she had returned early. Keira walked in to see her roommate very much in the middle of something. Keira, for her part, seemed non-plussed about it all until she saw your browser window.

“I didn’t know you were into lactation, Cat” she said.

Indescribably embarrassed you scrambled to pull your panties and jeans back on, simultaneously awkwardly trying to race to close the browser window. “It’s okay Cat” Kiera replied soothingly, “I actually am too, hell I was even had a few sessions at the dungeon being a human cow.”

You froze. Not only did this explain a lot, being a human dairy cow had been the ultimate fetish of yours for some time.

“I- wow uh – how was that” you stammered.

“Good fun but I wasn’t really adding anything. To actually induce milk takes a lot of effort.”

She paused for a moment, looking intently at you. “I can see your face is redder now than when I caught you, if that’s possible.” She said with a laugh. “Listen, I just learnt all about the processes for milk production and inducing last year in basic human bio. If you want I could guide you through the process and set you up with the right herbs and supplements for lactation. Truth is I always was curious about it.”

Perhaps it was the interrupted masturbation session but before you could really think about it you had already blurted out “I… I think I’d like that, actually.”

It took several weeks and a second-hand hand breast pump but eventually you saw a tiny drop of slightly yellowish liquid on your nipple. Keira had demonstrated on herself the proper method of breast massage and you’d stuck closely to the schedule (sort of): 15 minutes of massage per breast every four hours. For your efforts your petite body’s 36B breasts had swollen until none of your old bras Muğla Escort felt comfortable any more.

“Keira! Come look” you shouted out. Your own inhibitions about baring your breasts around her had been eroded by the sheer amount of work they’d needed out in the open. For her part, Keira had been entirely professional about it all. “That’s fantastic, Cat! Now to stick to the schedule, keep taking your fenugreek tablets and eating oats and you’ll have a good amount of milk soon I would think.”

Within a few weeks you were filling the handheld pump’s bottle up between half an inch and an inch in depth with your alabaster milk. Keira had intently followed your progress all the way. Out of the blue one day she walked up to you, blatantly sizing up your chest and contemplating something. “You’re not busy tomorrow are you? I want to take you out.” she said, with a hint of mystery underpinning it. “You’ll love it, I promise” she said, winking.

Your college town wasn’t huge and your campus admittedly was outside of the town center, but even so you were surprised to see a very rural scene laid out before you despite only being about 15 to 20 minutes away. In front of you loomed a tall barn and near it, a classical farmhouse. A man approached your car. Getting out, you sized him up.

Late 20’s, early 30’s perhaps. He was clean shaven but otherwise a real country boy stereotype. “You must be Cat” he said. “Keira’s told me about you – I’m Aaron” Aaron was a few inches taller than your 5’8, and wasn’t necessarily muscular but obviously carried the strength of a manual worker. He reached out to your hand to shake, his chiseled forearms stealing your attention.

Keira turned to you. “I noticed recently you’ve been fantasizing more and more about being a hucow, how you zone out when milking yourself. I told you I gave it a go once – I reached out to Aaron who owns this farm, here he houses his human dairy girl herd. I can vouch for it being good fun.”

Emotions swelled in you. This was it. Your fantasy of being a milk cow, your body used to produce the life-giving white gold. It was right in front of you. Keira leant in closer. “Just checking this is still what you want. I hope I didn’t jump the gun. We can go if you’re not comfortable.” Somewhat dazed by all this you replied that this was wonderful, everything you’d dreamed of. Your heart skipped a beat and a smile of giddy disbelief spread over your face – this was really happening!

Aaron and Keira took you to a changeroom attached to the barn. Aaron started;

“Keira tells me you’ve already induced which is brilliant.” “Would you like to use the milker?” he asked.

You nodded, dumbly, still unable to process that soon you’d be used as milk stock.

He continued: “then you’ll need to get out of that shirt. We’ve got quite the collection of cowprint, leather and nursing bras. Please choose one of those if you’d prefer that over going topless. We have plenty of other clothes Muğla Escort Bayan and outfits too if you don’t want to keep those jeans on. We’ll be just outside if you need us.”

A short moment of panic washed over you as you pondered the obvious logistics. This was real now, you were really at a barn in the country readying yourself to be milked like a cow, but it meant letting a guy you’d just met (even if he was really cute) free reign over your breasts. You trusted Keira though. If she vouched for him, you could trust him. You took a look over the many garments on offer.

Five minutes later you emerged, eliciting a gasp from Keira.

“fuck it” you had thought, “I want the proper experience!”

You emerged from the changeroom wearing just a cowprint bikini. Keira, for the first time you’d ever seen since you’d known her, looked shocked. Your began to feel a needy tingling and could feel your nethers slickening.

Your breasts – heavy with milk because Keira had brought you out here before your scheduled pumping time – stood at attention. Already small damp patches appeared on the thin fabric of the cowprint bikini. It was bad enough that your nipples were standing at attention and visibly poking out, but now the dampness from your nipples had turned the bikini almost completely sheer around your areolae.

Moving to the front of the barn you felt the mid afternoon sun and a slight breeze play on your skin, the feeling heightened by your fluttering anticipation. From behind your back you produced a cow bell collar from the changeroom and presented it to Keira. Obviously floored once again, she stood still for a second. You loved seeing her like this. She took a moment and then carefully brushed your long brown hair aside to lock the collar around your neck. Falling into place, the bell produced a dull ‘tock’ as well as a high little jingle. Slowly, you bent over, bringing your knees to the ground and your hands to the soft grass in front of you. You dug your hands into the soft grass, sinking your hands in and letting it slide in between your fingers. On all fours in this outfit it was obvious that you were a milk cow for the herd.

Entering the barn’s large open door you felt soft straw between your fingers. Unsupported, your milk-laden breasts hung below you, jiggling slightly with each step. Each shuffle forward caused your bell to toll slightly. Stalls lined both sides, some open with milking equipment inside in pieces, some closed and impossible to see inside from your lowered vantage. Aaron – visibly impressed by your theatrics – lead on to an open stall on the far end. Keira walked in pace with your crawling keeping a few steps ahead, guiding you. Sunlight streamed in from the high windows and the whole barn felt magically cozy. As you approached the stall you could hear soft moos floating on the air.

Entering the stall you saw a chrome machine that you recognized as a goat milker. Keira followed, closing Escort Muğla the wooden slatted stall door after you. The stall smelled wonderful and the combined ambience of the barn lulled your fears and self consciousness. The stall was fairly large and square. A thin, soft layer of sawdust and straw covered the floor which got thicker and coarser towards the edges where a small rectangular bail of hay rested, along with a wooden block and tin pail.

Aaron simply asked: ‘may I milk you?’ You vigorously nodded. He untied your cowprint top, allowing it to fall to the floor. His weathered hands rubbed oil into your hanging breasts. Already droplets of milk formed at your nipple. He attached the suction cups. Already in your mind you were screaming to be milked. A switch clicked. Sweet suction!

Your mind blanked of everything else in that moment, focusing only on the pressure and pleasure, the heat flowing out and the feeling of waves of lust seemingly directly rushing from your worked nipples to your vagina. First came droplets which fell after a few determined tugs from the machine. Then came small drops. You could feel the heat rising in your breasts. You could feel the warmth flowing over your whole chest and ducts deep inside opening to let down their white bounty. The drops gradually became heavier and more defined, giving way to streams. Hot white milk began to spurt out with each and every rhythmic hum of the milker, each pull more satisfying than the last. You let out a loud moo. You didn’t really mean to – it just felt like the right thing to do. Had you done it wrong? It sounded stilted somewhat. Suddenly you felt an irrational panic overtaking you and pulling you away from the bliss of milking. You were being self-conscious again. Keira piped up “don’t try to moo loudly, like you’re copying a cow. Let your natural moans become ‘mmm’s or ‘mo’s. The longer ones will take care of themselves for perfect moos’. Just something else I learnt” she said, quickly making contact with Aaron with a wry smile.

You gave it a go, feeling relief – yes, she was right! Your mind settled back into the rhythm, your placid, low mooing mixing with the sounds of the machine’s tugs. This was it. You were the cow you’d always wanted to be. You wanted to stay in this stall to be milked forever. Your mind entranced by the click-clack of the machine. Each tug brought you closer to a pounding crescendo. Soon you couldn’t take it any more, your sensitive breasts fed your hungry clit with electric bolts with every demanding tug from the milker.

Aaron removed the milkers, finished with their task as orgasm after orgasm wracked through your body. Losing control of your muscles, you took a wobbly half step before crumpling to the side. Keira’s soft hands and Aaron’s strong arms were there to catch you. Your matted brown fringe stuck to your sweat glistened forehead, and small beads ran down the center valley of your back. In your reverie you could only look up and give a soft, plaintive moo. You hoped to return as much as possible to this wonderful oasis. All of your stress from college had simply melted away.

Keira hefted the bottle of milk containing easily double you had ever managed milking alone. “I think it’s time to introduce her to the herd.”

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