Dahlia, now called # 83, has done her week of Human Cow training. She has passed her sexual exams, ready to join the herd on the factory floor; but a male handler makes a pit stop and forces the unwilling HC to suck him off. A stern doctor comes along, and 83 thinks he's come to her rescue - but what will she do when she realizes that he's just as eager to take the newest bovine for a test drive? Explicit sexual content, all characters 18+. Excerpt: "I've never seen any female ejaculate quite so much," the doctor mused. "We'll take this in for testing and see if there is any correlation to milk production. She dipped an eyedropper into the clear fluid, then squeezed it into her mouth. Cassien made a delighted little "mmm" noise of approval before putting a lid on the beaker and storing it away in a medical fridge. Dr. Cassien inserted a cow tail butt-plug; it was part of an HC's uniform, as she had explained at the end of the first day - such as it was, since otherwise, besides the collar and cowbell, she was completely naked. The rubber tail was lightly furred, moved with a lifelike swing, and even had a furry end like a paintbrush that teased her wet cunt with every movement of her hips. There was no way she would be able to forget her dehumanized status with a tail brushing her wet cunt and a butt-plug filling her up, nudging her insides with every step A quartet of cow-hoofed booties completed the humiliating uniform and further dehumanized the wearer; tiny padlocks ensured that they could not be removed by an HC herself. The doctors, nurses, and handlers all had keys, though they were only used in an emergency or for the administering of baths. Dahlia gave two disappointed little moos when Dr. Cassien disconnected the breast pumps; her teats, although slightly drained, were still full and a bit painful. It hadn't been nearly enough to empty them enough to make her comfortable. Guessing at this, the doctor gave her a knowing half-smile. "Don't worry, Number 83. I'm giving you the green light; you'll be off to the factory floor in no time to join your fellow HC's and add that delicious milk to HDF's output. Congratulations are in order, I think." She gave 83 an affectionate pat on the rump before turning to the phone on the wall and calling for a handler to take the HC away to her duties. "Come on, 83, I don't have all day," the handler said impatiently, a galvanized metal bucket jangling discordantly in one hand. He was yanking on Dahlia's leash with the other hand. The movement jostled her milk-hard breasts uncomfortably, but she was still light-headed and weak-kneed from the orgasms Dr. Cassien had given her, and wasn't following as fast as he obviously would like. The hoofed booties clopped with each step as she came along with him. She was excited, but nervous at the prospect of finally being deemed ready for production - what would it be like to live in a herd of HC's, fucked and milked daily, and as just a number amongst dozens, besides? Dahlia followed the handler through the corridors, teats swaying painfully, and she wished desperately to be milked. The thought of it made her nipples tingle, and to her horror, as soon as she thought of it, she began to leak milk on the rubber-matted concrete floor as she moved along it on hands and knees. Dahlia hoped that her handler wouldn't notice, but he happened to glance down and saw at once the pale trail of warm milk she was leaving behind them, just like a bovine Gretel. To her horror, he stopped short, leering down at her. One coarse hand drifted to the crotch of his pants and gave it a thoughtful squeeze. "Can't hold it in, eh?" he said. She couldn't make her vocal cords work to form words at all, instead only replying with an ashamed lowing, like the cow she was becoming. The bucket in his hand rattled as he set it down underneath her, and her cunt gave a twinge at the thought of being milked. He reached to his fly and pulled the zipper down.