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HisHumanCow

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His Human Cow: Bred for Milking
By Arthur Mitchell

Content copyright © Arthur Mitchell. All rights reserved.

Published in the United States of America.

First published in October, 2012.

Disclaimer:
The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance it may hold to persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental.

All individuals depicted in this work are adults over the age of eighteen years old.

About This Work

HER MILK, HIS DEMANDS...

Mallory never expected to break out of her misfit existence. When a lucrative study in lactation from a local university leads her to the man of her dreams, everything changes. At first, she isn't certain about being milked, but Doctor Hughes' firm hands quickly elevate her from inexperienced novice to willing human cow.

Everything seems perfect at first, but her worries about money and unsatisfying careers are about to be replaced with other concerns. Mallory's breasts just can't stop growing. Meanwhile, Hughes' demands are expanding with her bust line.

When an unexpected side effect of the Pi Lactate drug brings yet another change, Mallory and Hughes experience the ultimate shock. Can their budding relationship survive the demands of science,

pregnancy, and submission?

Adults only, 18+. An erotic novelette of over 8,000 words. This story contains electrifying scenes of milking, submission, and breeding sex.

His Experiment

Mallory Gibbs was out of luck when the advert in the newspaper caught her eye:

Female candidate needed, 20-30 years old, for one year experiment testing revolutionary new drug.

This ground breaking research is meant to increase human milk production. Contact Doctor Hughes
Clarke for details. Payment: $50,000, disbursed quarterly for each stage of completion.

The eye popping pay was more than twice what she had earned all of last year as a temp, working in run down offices where the bosses had high demands and little forgiveness. She chewed the pencil she was using to work the puzzle next to the classifieds.

Mallory had always liked science. Now, she kicked herself for not pursuing the hard disciplines earlier, when she had the fire and the student loans to pursue a degree. She had opted for Anthropology instead of Organic Chemistry. It was the biggest mistake of her life, one she continued to pay for nearly five years after graduating.

The idea of serving as a human experiment only caused a tiny sting of apprehension. Contrary to most people, Mallory understood that the researchers took enormous precautions to ensure the safety of their patients.

“Fifty thousand dollars.” She said it out loud, letting the ghostly numbers dance through her head.

“That's enough to cover months of rent and get rid of the student loans. Maybe enough to go back to school.”

She bit the eraser tip again, a nasty habit she just couldn't seem to shake. With her eyes gleaming, she circled the ad and tore it from the paper.

The initial screening over the phone only took ten minutes – much easier than she thought. The mousy voiced woman on the other end of the line scheduled her for a physical and an interview with the lead researcher, Doctor Hughes Clarke.

The autumn wind tore at her back as she arrived on campus the following morning. As she watched a

new crop of students bustling to and fro between buildings, a note of sadness struck her heart.

It wasn't so long ago that she was one of them, her heart brimming with passion and possibilities. Then it all ended as she took her degree in hand. The struggle for solid jobs, late bills, scrimping and saving for holiday trips back to see her family...all of it had worn her down.

“Enjoy the freedom while it lasts, kiddos,” she whispered to the swarming masses. “It only gets harder from here, and you can't remake yourself by changing your major.”

A short walk toward the towering concrete medical center brought her to the right place. A young

receptionist gave her some paperwork to fill out. When she had finished, there was another short wait, and at last a summons to go up to the fourth floor, where the lead researcher waited.

“My, what a wonderful specimen!” Hughes Clarke rose as soon as she entered his office. He was

several years older than her, touching his mid-thirties. Beneath his thin spectacles, he had a handsome face with a harsh jawline coated in stubble, capping a lean body that looked more like a mountain

climber than an office bound scientist.

Mallory stood in place, shuffling her feet back and forth.
He can't mean me?
Not with these love
handles and hair that's been rinsed by the cheapest shampoo I could find...

“Completely kidding, my dear,” the Doctor said as he clapped her shoulder with his strong hand.

“About the specimen part, that is. Let me show you my research.”

Hughes gestured toward an empty chair. She sat down and rolled toward his computer screen, which

displayed a slide show Hughes had pulled up. The first few slides showed equations that looked like some alien language, complete with molecular diagrams Mallory couldn't even begin to decipher.

“Sir, I'm fascinated by science, just like I said in the phone interview. But I think all of this is a little beyond me...” Mallory said, blushing with embarrassment.

They don't call them hard sciences for nothing,
she told herself.

Hughes only laughed. “Of course, of course. I sometimes forget who my audience is. I haven't taught at all for several semesters, outside of advising a few grad students. The school has allowed me to work with my baby full time – especially since the drug company funding it is giving them lucrative dollars for other areas too.”

He flipped across several slides, until he reached a set of cartoonish drawings. They showed a woman with her head tilted back, holding her arms up as her naked breasts hung like massive eggs, swollen and leaking whitish fluid. The figure was smiling.

“This could be you in a few weeks,” he said. This time, his cold tone said that he wasn't joking. “That's the aim of this experiment. I'm not going to lie: the amount of milk you'll produce may vary. It could become uncomfortable at times. Rest assured that none of our subjects in the animal trials were

harmed.”

Mallory's heartbeat picked up. The sudden reality of what she was close to opting into hit her hard, making her hair stand, like ice cubes beating down her back.

“Does this trial really last a year?” She asked, uneasy about what that meant for pursuing other career opportunities, let alone maintaining her small apartment.

“Yes.” Hughes sat up straight, his hand once again reaching to her shoulder. “Don't be alarmed if you're worried about other expenses. The company has given us a handsome per diem that we can pay...not to mention stipends for rent, food, and entertainment. The fifty thousand is all yours, not counting our support of your living expenses.”

Her mouth fell open. That was far more than she expected. There had to be a catch somewhere, but it hardly mattered. There was something oddly reassuring about the way Hughes touched her, his warm

fingers delicately massaging her flesh.

“You'll have to stay on site the entire time. That's the only drawback,” he said, gauging her reaction carefully as he looked up from his glasses.

Mallory's face darkened, but she didn't reject the idea out of hand. The melancholy details of her life heaved to mind at once, like monsters screaming out of the closet.

Fifty thousand and no expenses...just for staying here? That's a damned good deal. Besides, how else
do you think you're going to do better just by going back to that ratty apartment and looking for
another data entry job that pays nine bucks an hour?

She had no answer for herself. Her mouth, on the other hand, didn't stop to check with her brain before it started speaking to Hughes.

“I'll do it. When is this project supposed to start?”

The Doctor's eyes lit with surprise and he flashed her a wide grin. “I like your attitude. Is there anything holding you back from beginning immediately?”

Mallory thought for a long minute. At last, she shook her head in the negative.

“Excellent!” He clapped his hands. “I'll show you to your room shortly. There's another small mountain of paperwork for you to look through and sign for liability reasons, but other than that, there's no reason I can't set you up today.”

A few hours later, he led her down the hall to a larger room, just a few doors away from his office. The place was actually a bit bigger than her apartment. It was a set of faculty offices, carefully refashioned to support comfortable living, with an attached bathroom and a bedroom.

The place had all of the amenities she could want. Much of the furniture and appliances were a good deal better than the ones she had at home. Despite the living upgrade, there were a few anomalies.

The mattress in her bedroom, for instance, was on the ground, without a frame to support it. There were no plates either, just enormous, low shaped bowls that looked more suitable for a pet to eat from than a person. The refrigerator had no food, but its shelves were completely filled with thick glass bottles, all of them empty.

She was still contemplating the weirdness when Hughes returned a couple hours later with a small

prescription bottle in his hands. He looked at her with excitement and shook the large round tablets inside his package.

“Please take two of these twice per day. Morning and evening should work best. It may take a little while for the changes to assert themselves...but it could come along pretty fast too.” He sat across the small living room from her, waiting until she nodded to show her understanding. “Have you ever been pregnant before, Mallory?”

“No...is there any reason I should be?” His question stung more than it should have. She knew Hughes meant no harm, but it was one more reminder of what she had failed to accomplish in her youth. Now, she was nearing peak fertility, and motherhood was so far away that she worried it would never arrive.

“Not at all. Not yet, anyway. Look, the sensation of your breasts growing large with milk may surprise you at first. I hope you won't find it too unpleasant. We'll do everything to remove the build up

promptly for storage and study,” he said.

“Remove it? How?” She crossed her arms, instinctively protecting her curves, not certain she wanted to find out.

“Nothing painful, I promise. Some women actually find being milked quite pleasurable. I can't make any promises, but I think you'll fit into the latter category.” Hughes winked.

He left a short time later, leaving her to settle into her new surroundings. She was allowed to order take out from a pre-approved list of restaurants that served the campus several times per day.

Mallory chose the largest steak she could find, and a huge organic salad to go with it.
If they want me
to max out my nutrition on their dime, then I'm going to get the best.

After dinner, she watched a little television until her eyes grew tired. In the bathroom that night, she stared down at the pills. They were roughly the size of a dimes, coated in chalky dust that flaked away in her hands. She didn't know why, but her heart thumped wildly as she eyed them.

Do it,
her brain clamored.
This is what you're here for, after all.

“Bottoms up,” she told herself with a shrug. Her eyes closed as she tossed them down her throat,

chasing the little tablets into her stomach with a big gulp of water.

Yawning, she retired. It felt as though she had just made a positive decision for the first time in years.

His to Worship

Mallory awoke in the early dawn, twisting in discomfort. She sprang up with sweat pouring down her brow. A low moan escaped her throat as her hands clasped her heavy breasts.

Something is wrong. This can't be right,
she thought, picking herself up and treading to the bathroom.

The weight in her hands seemed impossible.

Her breasts swung painfully, until she placed her hands over them, lending support in her tight cupped hands. They felt like bulging cannonballs, but hot, soft...and leaking.

When she tore off her tank top in front of the mirror, Mallory gasped. Her breasts had ballooned

outward, capped with dark nipples that looked as though she had just gone through nine months of

pregnancy. Without touching them, small drops of fluid were dripping into the sink.

She reached down and squeezed her right breast. A jet of milk shot through the air and sprayed the mirror. Her fingers automatically tightened, awed by the change.

Aside from the extra weight, it didn't hurt. On the contrary, the milky shooting sensation felt

curiously...pleasurable.

“Ohhh,” she moaned, reaching with her other hand to circle both nipples. Fear charged hormones were coursing through her body, heightening her senses.

She felt like she were a virgin just discovering her body for the first time. Each touch of her fingers sent electricity crackling toward her back, where it raced up and down her spine. She pinched her

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