This choice: He proceeds to tell you about your cover ID, and where you work. • Go Back...Chapter #5He proceeds to tell you about your cover ID, an... by: Mr. George   As a breeze makes your nips stiffen, you rip your gaze from that beautiful face... from your beautiful face. Who'd have thought you'd make a gorgeous blonde. The amused smirk, hints at arrogance, the type of woman you used to target.... you used to educate. Her smile falters and vanishes.
As you take in more, you realise you're wearing a bikini, and it fits you! What's worse, it's a whorifically lush body you now possess. The straps dig into your shoulders. Each breast is bigger than your head!
Beyond the swell of your bust, you take in the equally curvaceous hips you now have, and the positively huge arse too! Shaking your head a long mane of golden blonde flashes back and forth.
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"I'm not going out in public looking like this!" you protest. Blushing as you hear your new voice. It trills and lacks any authority.
"No one will be looking at you." Agent Cochrane assures you, "You'll fit in with everyone else, and we assure your privacy and anonymity." That same smirk, looks so familiar on his face... and so much more worrying.
"Let's get you out of here." Agent Cochrane encouraged. "There's a blacked out van waiting for you... us."
Slipping on your former overcoat, it brushes against the floor as you walk. You realise how much bigger the agent looks now, and how much shorter you are now, too. It does little to disguise your figure, but at least hides the lewd bikini. You recognise this as a humiliation tactic. Knowing for an absolute fact, that it'll turn transparent on contact with water.
Leaving the building the world spins around you. The exposure feels dangerous, expecting to see perverts watching you from any window, from every window!
The noise of the agent sliding to door open on the van only makes you more intensely self-conscious. You barely register the hu-cow dairy lettering on the side. Eager to get inside, and have him close the door.
Thankfully, the seat is well-made to accommodate your exotic rump. The door closed behind you, is a relief, as you fasten the seat-belt while Agent Cochrane gets in the front, like your chauffeur... your employee.
The tinted windows ensure no-one can see in. You however have a darkened view of the streets whizzing past. It's a relief to spot the housing becoming less dense. Until you leave the city behind, and anyone who might've known you.
Nervously fidgeting as the drive continues, you feel another piercing. It's hard to see but feels cheap, even plastic unlike any jewellery you'd recognise.
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More functional than for elegance, or appeal. Your heart sinks, as you catch sight of it in the half-reflection of the window. It's more like a tag... a tag to identify an animal!
As you feel the car turn off the main road, you pass beneath a wooden sign. This triggers a jumbled memory. Hu-cow dairy. With a gasp, you recall it was on the door too!
Your breath catches, as you realise your role here! You start protesting, and looking to escape. Alas, there's no cover anywhere around, and you don't really want to escape looking like this!?!
Grinding your teeth and muttering sourly as you get out. Agent Cochrane in mock chivalry holds the door open for you.
"Our new livestock." A stern looking woman greets you both. Her gaze is professional, and lingers on your bust, to the agent's amusement. But it's to Agent Cochrane that she extends a hand to shake, "Mistress Jane."
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Mistress Jane.
"Busty Bessie." An electronic voice comes from the tablet in her hand. She's scanned your ear-piercing! Previously, you'd have thought her delightfully curvaceous, and attractive. However, she exudes a confidence and calm that leave you feeling even more intimidated.
"Oh, we're highly automated here. It allows the computer to handle the majority of your interactions, Bessie." your teeth grate against this humiliation. "It ensures you get the right meals, with the right supplements, and ensures you have access to the milking machines when you need it."
Looking around, for any hope of escape her 'welcoming words' barely register. However, the sharp sting brings you back to her, and the moment.
"We generally find two tags ensure the computer doesn't lose you." she explains, as you pluck at the new navel piercing you've received.
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The pair give you a tour of your new ... home... workplace? It certainly feels more like a prison than either of those choices.
Agent Cochrane leans close, "Your identity is secret." he assures you, "No-one but me, knows you as anything else than Bessie. You're safe."
Neither comment feels reassuring, and you certainly don't feel safe. Entering the milking barn, you spot some of the machinery respond to your presence. The brief flash of a red laser light hitting your tags confirming if you need their services, or direction.
- - - - -
It's then you spot your first hu-cow. Her eyes slightly glazed aren't quite focusing on... much of anything, or anyone.
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Your first hu-cow.
At least, the first one who's not a reflection. You rephrase with a shudder.
"Bessie, I know it can feel overwhelming." she says comfortingly. As you take in the enormous cups that'll clamp to your bust. Seeing the glass tanks you'll fill makes it just as unsettling. "You'll enjoy the milking." she assures you. Turning to the agent, "Oh, and routine ensures increased docility with time, too."
- - - - -
A girly cough alerts you to the presence of three women. They look nervously at the Mistress.
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Three women seek Mistress Jane's attention.
"Yes, yes. Open the shop, now." she shooes them away.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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