“Just don’t eat the meat, I’m telling you!” The rather grubby-looking fellow prisoner warned me.
“Why not?” I asked not without a little fear evident in my voice. “What do you know?” I had woken up here just a few short hours ago. My memory was intact, but I had no real knowledge of our captors or of their methods.
“I don’t know anything…” He must have saw the look of incredulity on my face and repeated himself. “No, really, I don’t know any more than you do. It was just what I heard from the other prisoners before they were led away.”
“But why?” I asked as I looked down at the dirty plate which seemed to have equal amounts of dirt as it did flies crawling on it. I cannot say that it was the most appetizing food I had ever seen, but it was food, and if the painful emptiness in my stomach was any indication, it had been some time since I last ingested any sustenance, though I could not remember when my last meal had been.
My cellmate shook his head. “ I don’t know that either. The other prisoners didn’t have time to explain. They were being led away by the guards. The guards weren’t exactly being pleasant either. I saw a lot of pushing and shoving, cursing, and even saw one of them bastards crack one of the prisoners across the back of his skull.” My cellmate sat back down on the cold and filthy metal slab that passed for a bed in the 9x9 cell. I had a similar one on my side of our cramped cell, but had gotten up to pace back and forth, the cold metal of the “bed” having chilled my butt right down to the bone. The lightweight, thin material of the zip-up jumpsuit they had provided me offered little in way of warmth. My pacing at least got my blood flowing and provided a little body heat in the chilly cell. Had someone dressed me in the jumpsuit? Must have. I didn’t remember putting it on. I remembered everything leading up to my imprisonment though.
I was a freedom fighter. I truly believed in the term. We were fighting for our freedom. I know they say that both sides to every conflict have their motives and believe themselves justified, but I couldn’t see the point of the Western Power’s incursion. It was nothing more than a land grab. They wanted territorial expansion, they wanted our resources and they were not willing to trade for it. They wanted it and they were willing to kill or enslave any of the citizens of the Central Protectorate to do it.
My father had already been killed in the fighting and my mother was undoubtedly a slave if she still lived. The Western Powers cared little about the lives of those in the Central Protectorate. Nonetheless, they preferred to enslave rather than annihilate. Even if they receive precious little production out of an unwilling slave, they considered it better than paying someone else to do the labor. Our military leaders had tried to train us not to hate our enemies. “Try to understand their motives. It will give you a tactical advantage free of hateful emotion.” I remembered the words, but I couldn’t help but hate them. They had invaded our land. They had killed and enslaved my family. I wanted the bastards dead!
Yet, I was hardly in a position to talk. Some freedom fighter I made. My first real strategic assault mission and I get captured. It was not like I was a born fighter. Before the war broke out, I had studied to be a fashion designer. I never thought a few years ago that I would be wearing a uniform, receiving military training, fighting in battles. Hell, I had always been a pacifist. But those kind of beliefs change quickly after your home is invaded and your family slaughtered.
I looked back at my cellmate. He now had his head buried in his hands. He had lost hope and was cold, frightened, and hungry. I wanted to reach out to him. I wanted to place a caring hand on his shoulder, to reassure him that everything would be alright. I couldn’t. For one, I didn’t believe everything would be alright. Second, I felt a bit uncomfortable in the close quarters. The Western Powers obviously didn’t give a damn about prisoner-of-war protocols. They stuck me in a cell with a man rather than other female prisoners. There was no bedding other than the cold, hard slab on either side of the cell. There were no toilet facilities other than the stone floor. I felt uncomfortable sharing the cell with this man. Yet, my heart felt for him. It was the strange circumstance about this war, it made you feel close to people. Without knowing anything of the man, I knew that he had experienced loss. He was a compatriot.
Other cells lined the narrow hallway. I could not see much, but I knew none of the other cells were occupied. My cellmate had said other prisoners were led away while I was still asleep… unconscious? I had not seen any guard or prisoner other than ourselves since I awoke. Not that I would have been able to see much anyway. The lighting in the room was much too dark to reveal much beyond general shapes. I would have heard the sounds of other prisoners or guards if they were in the room. The room was silent and empty except for us. An eerie quiet shrouded the room. I heard the shallow breathing of my cellmate as his weary head still rested in his hands.
I remembered being captured. My band of female freedom fighters had never even had the chance to get started. We were ambushed, surrounded and totally outmaneuvered. Any resistance on our part would have resulted in all of us getting mowed down by the Western Power’s energy weapons. We surrendered. We were taken prisoner and marched back to this Western Power’s facility. They brought me, and the other girls, into the dingy sick bay for a “medical examination.” I suspect that I was drugged. I didn’t recall being injected with anything, but all consciousness had faded until I woke up here in my cell. What happened to the other girls in my force? I suspected they were in their own cells somewhere else in this dark facility. Why did they separate me from my team? They probably thought there would be less likelihood of us trying to formulate an escape plan if they split us up and placed us with other unknown prisoners.
I missed my girls already. I had taken to calling them “my girls.” I was in charge of our assault team. I had no great military experience, and neither did any of them. I hadn’t received any military commission, nor did I rise in the ranks. It didn’t work that way with ragtag gorilla warfare. I was no born leader. I did not seek to be their leader. I simply found myself in charge for no other reason than I was older than the rest of the girls. Girls they were. Most of my team were age 18 to 22, and couple in their mid twenties. I was the only one in her thirties. Well, I just “celebrated” my thirtieth last week actually. Not that sitting in a war torn field eating rations could be considered “celebrating.” My girls were scared every second of every day. Worried that enemy fire or explosion would find them. I was worried too. I can only look to my maturity as to why it didn’t show outwardly. I was the oldest and I felt that I needed to show strength for the benefit of the other girls. They fed off my outward display of strength. They made me their leader. I only wish I hadn’t let them down. It was my fault that we were captured. If I had any real military experience beyond the minuscule training I and the others received, I would have been able to detect the ambush and would have not led them to capture.
Strangely, I almost had a sense of relief when we were first captured. Even though the Western Powers had a reputation of treating their prisoners poorly, of forced servitude with the ever present threat of torture or death, at least it was something concrete. I hated the constant ignorance of not knowing whether today would be the day I died. Sitting my cell now though, my only thoughts were of guilt, that I had disappointed my girls, that I had led them to their capture.
I had heard of the Western Powers torturing and killing their prisoners, but would they really poison our food? It didn’t seem to make sense. If they wanted us dead, they could simply have shot us. What about their all important slave workforce? They couldn’t enslave me if I was dead.
Me cellmate looked up and saw me eyeballing my plate again. He said. “You can eat the rest of it. Just don’t eat the meat.” He spoke with a confidence that made me wonder why he seemed so sure when only basing his information of the brief warning of a prisoner being hauled away.
I brought my nose down to the plate just above the cold, but apparently fully cooked, piece of beef. “It doesn’t smell rancid.”
“Did I say ‘rancid’?” My cellmate shot back smartly.
“Why just the meat then?” I smirked. “Surely they could have poisoned the rest of the food just as easily as the meat.”
“I didn’t say ‘poison’ either, Sweet Pea!” My cellmate yelled, the tension of being imprisoned started to grate on him.
“Ok Ok, take it easy. I’m just saying you don’t have a lot of information to go on is all.” I thought for a moment. “Say, how did you even see any prisoners? I can barely see a thing in here it’s so dark.”
“I didn’t see them, I heard them, Sweet Pea.” He said still with his smart tone of voice. I chose to ignore his new nickname for me.
“So you don’t really know it was a prisoner do you? It could have been a guard messing with your head?” I retorted.
“Well…” His face suddenly took on a defeated look. He had lost his only sense of control of the situation. The thought that he may have had some important knowledge made him feel more in charge of this uncontrollable situation. He returned his face to his hands.
“No, you’re probably right,” I offered. “For now we should assume it was a prisoner. And with that assumption, I know that I’m going to trust another prisoner more than anything those Western Power guards offer me.” My comment seemed to bring some degree of confidence back to his face.
My cellmate’s face was dirty and his hair unkempt and greasy. This look was not an uncommon one since the start of the war. I didn’t hold it against him. In fact, he was quite handsome in his own way despite the obvious fear in his eyes. He was younger than I. I placed him in his early twenties, twenty-two if I had to guess. He was doing his best to play the part of the strong and confident man, but I saw the same need for comfort that I saw in the eyes of my girls. He was looking to me for strength. I tried to satisfy his need. I tried, as best I could, to project a sense of confident reassurance that everything would be ok, that we would get out of this mess. In truth, I had no real hope of ever extricating ourselves from the situation.
I assumed that our cell was only temporary housing for us. The lack of bedding and toilet led me to deduce that we were simply waiting to be transferred to a more permanent prison or work detail… I was wrong.
That night turned into days, those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months. Over that time, we would see guards, but never any other prisoners. The guard on duty would occasionally remove us from our cell to shovel out the feces and hose out the urine that covered the stone floor. Immediately afterward though, we would be placed right back into the cold and dirty cell. Every attempt we made to question our captors, about where were where, what they would do with us, or any other question was met only with silence and a threatening stare.
The conditions were horrid. My cellmate and I only had the one jumpsuit each. The thin material quickly was tearing to tatters. We were fed three meals each day, but only eating the bread, fruits, and vegatables, we were both quickly becoming emaciated.
“Maybe I’ll try eating a nibble of the cheese next time.” I offered, not for the first time.
“No, we can’t eat any dairy product!” My cellmate screamed. A heavy beard now covered his once clean-shaven face.
First you told me, meat, then it was any animal product including milk and cheese, I beginning to wonder if you heard anything at all, maybe you dreamed it!” I yelled back. “I haven’t seen a single prisoner besides us this whole time!”
“I’m telling you they were here!” He stared at me intensely. “I don’t know why they haven’t brought any more prisoners back since. Maybe they are waiting for you to poison yourself.”
The meals were actually one of the few adequate conditions that our imprisonment had. The meals always included fully-cooked, though always cold, meat, cheese, bread, vegetables, fruits, and a glass of water and a glass of fresh milk. Because of my cellmate’s dire warnings however, we never ingested the meat, cheese, or milk. The lack of protein and calcium in our diets was starting to take its toll. We were weakening. If we didn’t get further nutrients, it was only a matter of time before illness set in. It was questionable whether our captors would provide any medical care if we needed it.
The smell of our prison was dreadful. My initial embarrassment had quickly given way to the need to relieve myself in the only available space, that being the floor. Despite our best efforts to isolate our urine and feces into one area, we nonetheless found ourselves walking in, and living in, our own filth. The guards hosed out our cell, at best, once a week. Our only hygiene was a quick blast of water from the same hose used to clean our cell.
Still, as crazy as it seemed, through all the horrid smells, though all our arguments, through the dirt and cold, I found myself growing fond of my prison companion. In fact, I soon came to the realization, that I was falling in love with the smelly bastard.
Since the war had started, I had not been with any man. I was housed with the other female soldiers during training and had been with my girls ever since, waiting for our turn at battle. So, I guess it wasn’t so odd that after all that time, I could develop feelings even in the worst of circumstances.
In recent weeks, I had taken to acting more flirtatious toward my cellmate. Dan was his name, though I rarely called him anything but ‘cornflake,’ a name I took to calling him after he determined to call me nothing but ‘Sweet Pea.’ I realized both of our nicknames had to do with food, undoubtedly a result of our constant hunger. I would take to playfully flicking my hair back or bating my eyelashes, in some idiotic attempt to seem appealing. Idiotic considering that I was living in human waste and hadn’t bathed in months. Dan, for his part, seemed oblivious to my newly flirtatious behavior. I couldn’t blame him. He was probably a lot more sane than I, and not thinking of romance in such a ridiculous situation.
I finally decided to be more direct with Dan. “When was the last time you’ve… been with a woman, Cornflake?”
Dan looked back at me in the darkness with a puzzled look on his face. “What do you mean? I’ve been with you the past who knows how many months, Sweet Pea.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “No, silly, I mean… sexually.”
Dan’s mouth literally dropped open at my question. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Sweet Pea. We are ankle deep in shit with no hope of escape and you are talking about sex?” He was right of course. It was stupid of me to be having these thoughts. I couldn’t help it. Before the war started I was a bit of a sexual tiger. I enjoyed myself and I enjoyed the company of men. It wasn’t easy for me to turn it off completely even with a war raging and being in a prison cell. In another time and in another place I had actually been quite the looker. I wore all the best fashions in the Central Protectorate. I always kept up with the latest hairstyles. My body may have been average, but I had the fashion sense to present myself quite well. I never had too much trouble turning the heads of men.
I once had long, luscious flowing hair. After the war started I cut it short when I started my military training. It had grown long again over the months of imprisonment, but it was anything but long and luscious. It was matted down with grease and grime. My thin prison issue jumpsuit was torn and tattered and caked with filth. My once lean and muscular body was now terribly thin. My ribs and hipbones stuck out noticeably. My once plump and firm C-cup breasts had shrank with the rest of me, and now measured somewhere in the B-cup range to my approximation.
“I just thought…” I continued reluctantly. “Since we might be here for a very long time, that… Oh, never mind.” I gave up.
Dan was about to respond when we heard the lock on the outer door turn. We expected the two armed guards that usually walked through the door. This time however, there were more individuals with them, two other people to be exact. From what I could make out in the darkness, they appeared to be two severely undernourished females. No, they were two of my girls! They were much skinnier now but I recognized them. “Heather! Petra!” I shouted.
The two girls turned their heads in my direction. “Cap?!” Heather asked in the darkness. It was the name the girls called me, short for “Captain” though I was not really a captain nor did I have any military title at all.
“Yes! It is I, Heather!” I shouted with excited exuberance.
“Oh Gawd, Cap, I thought I’d never see you again.” Petra stated and tried to run in my direction, but one of the guards roughly grabbed her arms and pulled her back. The guards escorted my girls into their own cage almost directly across the narrow hallway from the cage shared by Dan and I.
“Where have you been all this time? Where are the rest of the girls?” I asked excitedly.
“I don’t know,” Heather said through tears. “Petra and I have been together this whole time in another part of the facility. I don’t know where the rest of our team is, Cap.”
“Thank goodness you are alive.” I said with honest relief.
“Barely, no thanks to them.” Petra stated as she shot an angry look to the guards that were now exiting the room after having locked the outer doors.
Yeah,” Heather agreed. “Only feeding us bread and water, I thought we were going to starve to death!”
I nodded to myself. “So you have been avoiding the meat and cheese too I see.”
“I wish!” Petra shouted. “What I wouldn’t give to just smell some meat or cheese.”
I thought about Petra’s statement for a minute and then commented. “Wait… You mean that they haven’t been giving you meat and cheese with your meals?”
“That’s not funny, Cap.” Petra stated angrily. “We are starving to death.”
“No, I’m serious, Pet.” I said in the most sincere voice I could muster. “We have received milk, cheese, fresh vegetables and fruit, and meat with all of our meals.”
I saw Petra look quickly in Heather’s direction. “Really? Maybe they will start feeding us that too, Heather!” Petra said excitedly.
“Oh I hope so, Pet!” Heather agreed. “Is it any good, Cap? I mean does it taste alright, or is it all spoiled stuff they don’t even want to feed to their dogs?”
“I don’t know, we haven’t tried any.” I answered honestly.
“That bad huh?” Heather replied with an obvious tone of disappointment.
“No, it wasn’t spoiled…” I hesitated. “We just thought… Well, I mean. What I mean is… we thought it might be poisoned.”
“Why did you think that?” Petra asked. Her face revealed far too much teeth and cheekbone. It was obvious that she was severely emaciated.
“We… I mean he… I mean Cornfla… Er… I mean, Dan, here. He sorta heard someone.” I stuttered.
Dan took over my comments. “I heard some the other prisoners say not to eat any of the meat. Actually, not to eat any animal product, cheese and milk included.”
“They said it was poisoned?” Heather asked, in a bit of a pleading tone, clearly wishing it wasn’t true.
‘Well, they never really said.” Dan was struggling for words. “I mean… They never had a chance to say it. The guards were dragging them away at the time. I’m sure. I mean, I’m pretty sure they would have said ‘poison’ if they had the chance.” Dan was embarrassed to speak. He looked down, not able to look into the bulging eyes and swallow sockets of the emaciated girls. It was obvious to us even in the darkness, that they had even less to eat over the months than we did. Even without the meat and dairy, we still had fruits and vegetables. Petra and Heather had been trying to survive off of bread and water.
“What? That’s it? That is all they said?” Heather stated in a broken voice. In all the months of acting strong for Dan’s sake, tears started to well up in my eyes for the first time. I couldn’t bare to look at the swallow, sunken faces of my once beautiful girls. Their youthful beauty had been stolen away by constant hunger. Even in the darkness their boney bodies contrasted with their bloated bellies, swollen from hunger. How can we tell them that this whole time that they have been starving that we have been getting not just fruits and vegetables, but refusing to eat meat and cheese provided to us based on some offhand comment that some prisoner might have made months ago?
“Wait…” Petra continued. I could sense the anger rising in her voice. “They have been giving you meat and cheese and milk this whole time, and… and you’ve been… REFUSING IT?!”
“Now wait, Pet.” I struggled to calm her before she got too excited. “You have to understand that…”
“Understand?” Petra interrupted. “Understand that we’ve been starving to death and you been sending back your food like some persnickety gourmet restaurant customer? Is that what I’m supposed to understand??”
I saw the hatred forming in Petra’s bulging eyes. “But I didn’t know. I swear, Pet…” I was struggling to keep back the tears now.
“You bitch!” Petra continued. “You fucking bitch! First you lead us right into a goddamn ambush, get us thrown in prison, then you send back food. Food which Heather and I would have killed for!”
I started crying profusely. Dan walked up behind me and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’re right, Pet.” I said. “It is my fault. It is all my fault!”
Petra prepared to start shouting again as best as her weakened body would allow, but Heather placed a hand on her shoulder in a similar fashion as Dan did to me. “Don’t, Pet,” Heather told her. “Maybe they’ll start feeding us properly now too. It sounds like the guards in this section are not going to let us starve if nothing else.”
“You’re right.” Petra stated, more calmly now. “Oh, I can almost taste that beef and cheese now, Heather.”
“Um… I hate to spoil your dreams of beef and cheese for dinner, but you can’t eat it.” Dan interjected. “Just stick with the bread, veggies, and fruit.”
“Excuse me?” Petra said, anger raising back in her voice. “And just who the fuck are you?”
“My name is Dan, though you can call me…”
“Well, Dan,” Petra interrupted. “There are plenty of things I’d like to call you. Idiot is the first that comes to mind. So, because someone you don’t know, says something completely ambiguous, for lord knows what reason, you expect us to turn away food? When there has been absolutely no indication that anyone anywhere has tried to poison anyone?! If they wanted us dead, they would just shoot us, you fool.”
“Or starve us.” Heather added.
I wiped the tears off of my cheek, a cheek that, until I saw Petra and Heather, I had thought was skinny. My face was positively plump compared to the bones and teeth visible though the paper thin skin of Heather and Petra’s cheeks. I remembered how my girls had once looked, months ago. Both had been beautiful. Both of them were in their early twenties. Despite living off of a war torn land, both had managed to remain pretty. Petra had long and lovely raven black hair that she usually wore in some sort of up do. I remembered how gorgeous her hair would look in the moonlight at the end of each day when she would take her helmet off and let her hair down. It would look so pretty framing her milky white face in the moonlight.
Petra was now balding. She had large patches of hair missing due to her malnutrition. Her once pretty face was now drawn back showing far too many teeth. Her eyes were sucken and her eyes bulged out in a bizarre stare.
Heather was curvy just a few short months ago. She had large breasts and wide hips that made it more difficult for her to run and march into battle than the other girls. Her once short chestnut brown hair was now long and stringy and starting to fall out in patches though not yet to the extent of Petra’s hair. Her once large beasts now sat smaller and droopier atop her prominent rib bones. Her once full hips were now skinny and boney. She had trouble standing and walking on her now frail legs.
At diner time, the guards brought the usual food items. Water, milk, cheese, vegetables, fruit, bread and beef. Petra and Heather immediately devoured the cheese and beef. They both made retching sounds almost simultaneously. My heart skipped a beat as I thought for sure they were feeling the immediate effects of the poison.
“Don’t worry yet.” Dan said as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “The poison won’t work that quickly. They just ate it so quickly that it made their starved bodies sick.”
I nodded. “How long before we know if they are poisoned?” I asked with some dread.
“Depends on the type and amount of poison.” Dan responded. “I’m no expert, but I’d say within 20 minutes we should know.”
It was the longest few minutes of my life. I still felt responsible for my girls. I felt responsible for their capture and I still felt responsible for their safety. I ignored Petra and Heather’s repeated pleas for me to throw them my portion of meat and cheese. Petra called me every name in the book. I still refused. I told her that I would give her every portion of beef and cheese I had from now on if she survived the night, but that I wasn’t giving her a single scrap of it tonight. Whether Dan had some special knowledge or if it was simply a lucky guess, I approximated that it was about 20 minutes later that the first signs started to appear. It started with Petra saying that her stomach hurt.
“It could just be the pains of a starved belly getting real sustenance for the first time.” Dan tried to reassure me, but I knew that something wasn’t right. Within minutes, Heather started to complain of stomach pains as well, and a few moments after that, both of them were in a fetal position on the filthy ground clutching their stomachs. I yelled as loudly as I could for the guards to come. They were the ones that poisoned them, but maybe they would take mercy and take them to some infirmary. Why the hell would they do it? Bring these poor girls to the point of starvation only to feed them poisoned food? Was it mental torture? Where these assholes getting some sort of twisted pleasure out of all of this? And why were they brought in here first? Was it so they could get some more morbid satisfaction out of watching me observe my friends die right in front of me? But they didn’t die…
They were transformed. I couldn’t tell what was happening at first. It was dark as it always was in the room. My eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness over the months. Maybe it was just that my eyes didn’t want to believe it at first. The transformation was a slow and painful one for my girls. I could see them writhing in pain. I could hear their screams. I could see… Yes, I could indeed see the changes. I just didn’t want to believe it. What sort of warfare was this? What were they doing to them? Had those other prisoners suffered the same fate? Had they been carted off after they had been transformed? Had it been too dark for Dan to see them? Maybe he didn’t want to believe either. I was watching it happen and I couldn’t believe it.
As they writhed on the floor, screaming in pain, my screams for the guards going unanswered, it was their bellies I noticed first. Their stomachs were already swollen from hunger. I told myself that their bellies were the same size as when they first arrived, that they weren’t any bigger than they were before. But, it got to a point were I could not deny it anymore. Their tummies had taken on huge proportions.
“What is happening to them?” Dan asked in wonder.
I could not respond. I was too stunned. Soon, their bellies had expanded so far and so huge that they looked nine months, no, twelve months pregnant. Their bellies were no longer bloated as if from hunger, but large and round like they were pregnant, but impossibly large like they should have given birth months prior.
But that was not the only changes taking place. Even in the dark room, I could see that as their stomachs expanded, that their legs were growing hairier. I tried to tell myself that there was no change. That their legs had been that hairy when they came to this part of the prison. “It makes sense.” I told myself. My legs were hairy too. Not much time to shave ones legs during wartime, and certainly no opportunity to shave your legs in this prison. But it was more than that, it wasn’t just hairy legs from a lack of shaving. It was… It was… Fur! No, not fur, a coat of animal hair. Both of their legs were taking on a different color completely. It wasn’t just the color. It was the shape. Their legs were changing form just as their bellies were expanding.
“Are those…” Dan started but couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence.
I looked at him in shock. “I… I think so.” I couldn’t believe it even as the word escaped my mouth but I heard myself say it nonetheless: “Hooves!” It was true. Petra and Heather no longer had feet at the bottom of their legs but clearly had hooves. That is when I realized that their legs were taking the form of a cow’s hind legs. Yes, the markings on their legs were unmistakable now. It was the black and white pattern of a dairy cow.
Petra and Heather said nothing. They only continued to moan in agony as Dan and I looked on in astonishment. The girls bellies were absolutely huge now. Their bellies flared out to the sides and several feet in front of them. I don’t think they could have stood up if they had tried. They were not in any condition to stand. It was apparent from their moans that they were in too much pain to stand, but if they had tried, the immense weight of their huge bellies would not have allowed it.
Something else was different too. The torsos of both girls were lengthening. Their top halves were now, without a doubt, much longer then their bottom halves. As their torso elongated, bulges appeared. The bulges were appearing above and below their immense bellies. I simply watched in stunned silence, not even able to scream for help or to even ask if they were surviving the ordeal. I watched as the bulges increased in size. One large bulge below their huge belly and four bulges above the tummy. I couldn’t image what these bulges could be at first. It was not until several minutes of swelling had taken place that I recognized what the bulges were. The four bulges above their tummies were breasts! They were developing clearly defined and very thick human nipples on each of them. The were expanding in size and taking their place on the now extremely elongated torsos. The human breasts continued to take shape and continued to increase to preposterous sizes. The girls original breasts also started to increase in size. Petra and Heather’s once skinny bodies now exploded with breast tissue. There original breasts swelled well beyond C-cup and D-cups. They continued to expand well past F-cups and finally halted at what I would approximate at G-cup size breasts, each breast equal if not bigger in size than their heads. But, the four new developments also increased to that same size. By the time they were done expanding, each of the two girls had six G-cup size breasts on their impossibly long torso, arranged in three pair of two incredibly huge breasts row. Their three rows of tits were being pushed up so that the uppermost pair of boobs pressed against the bottom of their faces as their bellies continued to expand.
It was then I heard a loud crack and for a moment I thought the immense weight of their new belly and boobs had broken their backs. Indeed it at first appeared that way, as their impossibly long torsos appeared to bend suddenly at a ninety degree angle. The lower part of their back was now perpendicular to their upper back. Their cow-like hind legs were now in a position further behind them. The part of their torso containing the six gigantic breasts where in a vertical position and their giant swollen bellies were now in a more horizontal position extending back behind them. The bulge that had developed on the lower part of their torso below the huge belly was now taking shape. It was slowly moving to a position closer to their cow legs. It was continuing to expand and four smaller bumps were emerging from it. I soon recognized the bulge to be that of a cow’s udder! The four smaller bumps that had emerged from the udder were quickly developing into four cow’s teats that extended downward. The teats were huge and thick. They were at least an inch in diameter and hung down a good six inches in length from the bulging udder.
The girl’s impossibly huge belly had now taken on the same black and white color of their legs. I heard the sounds of ripping flesh and violent screams coming from each of the two girls. Two more hooves had ripped their way through the swollen belly of the girls and the hooves were now firmly attached to the what were clearly cow’s front legs. There was some blood from the ripped flesh but very little. In fact, considering the fact that two huge cow hooves had just emerged from their fat bellies, there was little to no effect on the belly itself and soon it was impossible to tell that the hooves had only moments before ripped their way free. The girls front cow legs continued to lengthen until after a few moments, the girls were standing on not two, but four cow’s legs.
The udder and cow’s tail completed the finished effect. In less than an hour’s time, Petra and Heather had been transformed into a half-cow-like creature. I stood there in my cage staring in amazement. Before me in the cage across from ours stood two cow monsters that used to be my friends only and hour before. From the waist down, Petra and Heather perfectly resembled that of a dairy cow. They had the huge body of cow minus only the head of the cow. Their bodies were huge. They had a fat cow’s belly a huge udder easily bigger than their heads that hung down, thick six inch long teats hung down off the udder to a position only about a foot off the ground. They each had a fully functional cow’s tail swinging back and forth apparently of its own volition.
From the waist up, Petra and Heather looked much like their old selves. They were no longer emaciated. Quite the contrary, they had regained all the fullness and color of their cheeks and no longer showed any bones in their arms or ribs. They appeared to be now of normal weight from the waist up. They no longer had patches of hair missing either. Their hair was now just as full as it had been before they were imprisoned here. What I did detect on their heads now, however, was two small horns on either side of the top of there heads poking through their now thick and lustrous hair.
What was even more unusual then the horns was, of course, their boobs! They had the look of two young and healthy women now from the waist up, but the had humongous boobs! Each of their boobs was larger than their heads. Their tits were easily G-cups in size. As if that wasn’t unusual enough, they each had six breasts! Petra and Heather both had three rows of boobs, with two boobs per row. That’s right, each had three pairs of human breasts! Each of their six boobs were all equally G-cupped in size. Each breast had thick and defined human nipples, and each of the huge boobs seemed to be struggling for the limited space left on their human torsos.
I realized that nether Petra nor Heather were moaning anymore. But they weren’t saying anything either. I could barely speak but I finally managed to say: “Are… Are you two alright?”
Petra and Heather looked at each other and then looked to me. Neither of them said a word but only looked to me with a puzzled expression on their faces.
“Can you hear me?” I asked. “Are you alright?” I could clearly see they were not alright. They had been transformed into some sort of cow-centaur monster, but I felt compelled to ask anyway.
Petra gave me another puzzled look and finally attempted to speak. “Ma… Ma… MMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
I gave a worried look to Dan. “Do you think they’ve lost their minds?”
Dan saw the concern in my eyes and responded. “I don’t know, let me try. “Do you know who you are? Petra? Heather? Can you hear me?”
I saw Heather straining to form a coherent response. She finally managed to speak. “I… I can’t concentrate. I need… I need…”
“Yes, Hon, what do you need?” I asked as lovingly as I could manage.
Heather struggled to continue her line of thought. “I need… To be milked!”
“Yes!” Petra exclaimed. “It is our duty! We must produce milk!”
“No,” I shook my head. “No, Pet, it is your duty to fight for freedom! Don’t you remember, Dear?”
I noticed some sense of recognition in Petra. “Yes, you are right, Cap. We must fight for freedom. We must be free!”
“Yes,” I reassured Petra. “That’s right, Hon.”
“Free,” Petra continued. “We must be free to produce milk! Free to produce Mmm… Mmm… MMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
“No!” I shouted at the cell containing the two cowtaurs. “We will find a way to change you back. I promise. You don’t have to produce milk for anyone.” Petra ignored my shouts. She turned to her fellow cowtaur and grasped Heather’s uppermost left breast tenderly in her hands. Petra brought her mouth down to Heather’s thick nipple and started to suckle on it. A strong stream of milk exploded from Heather’s human nipple and sprayed Petra’s waiting lips. Milk dribbled down Petra’s lips as she continued to suckle loudly on Heather’s many breasts.
‘No! I won’t let this happen!” I yelled to the caged cowtaurs.
“I’m afraid you don’t have much choice.” I heard an unfamiliar voice. I looked to the main entry door and saw a new face. It was not one of the guards, but rather a man wearing a white lab coat. The man had eye glasses and a light beard and spoke in a very distinguished voice. “You were the last four holdouts.” The man said, taking position opposite of me right outside my cell. Your friend here…” The man pointed to Dan. “…was a single scout that we captured a few days before we captured your terrorist party.”
“We are freedom fighters!” I blasted back at the man.
“Yes, well, whatever.” He responded with little interest.
“What is the meaning of this?” I asked, pointing toward my friends still suckling each other in their cage.
The man took a quick look over his shoulder without taking more than a second’s notice of the cowtaurs. “Well, as you may know, our society is built on slave labor. Since the start of the war, we have had great need for the hauling of supplies. Many of our captured slaves were not strong enough or willing enough to get much work done. But now…” The man chuckled as he glanced back at the two cowtaurs. “Now, the bovine formula has allowed us to increase the strength of our slaves tenfold.”
“You sick bastard!” I yelled as I stuck my hand out of the cage trying unsuccessfully to grab the man by the scruff of his neck.
The man continued as if he took no notice of my comment. “Oh yes, strength is greatly enhanced with those cow bodies. Not to mention, they are much more complaint with orders.” The Man and the two guards that accompanied him started to laugh. The man noticed the anger in my expression. “Oh don’t worry too much. They still have their minds. Petra and Heather is it?” Petra stopped suckling Heather’s breasts momentarily at the sound of her name before returning to another of Heather’s milk-filled boobs. “Yes, they still know who they are. They can still think for themselves. It is just that now, they will be more… compliant with certain requests.”
“You monster!” I yelled. “They may have their minds, but you’ve stolen their will.”
“Oh no,” The man responded. “They still have their will. They just have different priorities now. You see…” The man walked over to the cowtaur’s cage and opened the door. Petra barely took notice before moving to another of Heather’s boobs. “Escape and fighting are no longer great concerns of theirs. They are now concerned with other things, milk production in particular. You see, producing milk, and even more so, being milked, now gives them great pleasure.” The man then fell to his knees and began to caress Petra’s cow udder. I immediately saw Petra lean her head back in an obvious state of arousal and enjoyment. The man grabbed one of Petra’s teats and pulled down on it squeezing a stream of milk out of it.
Petra immediately let out a moan of pleasure and spoke with Heather’s human nipple still between her lips. “Mmmm…. Moooo… Yes, must be Mooooo…ilked! Feels so good!”
The man smiled. “You see, they work for us and they get milked. It is hardly slavery at all anymore. We get what we want and they get what they want. Not to mention we get plenty of sweet, refreshing milk in the process. We’ve been able to eliminate all rationing of milk, quite an accomplishment during wartime don’t you know.”
“Why have you done this? Why have you kept us here? Why did you starve them?” I demanded.
“Oh, that” the man smiled. “That was purely psychological research on prisoner conditions.”
“It was torture!” I corrected. “You wanted me to sit in my own filth. You wanted me to watch that horrible transformation firsthand!”
“Research… Torture… Call it whatever you like. But, we do need more labor, so I’ll leave it up to you, we can force feed you the bovine serum if we must. It will really be much easier if you just take it willingly. I assure you, you will not regret it. You will be much happier. Just look at your friends over there.” I looked over at the cowtaur cage. The man had left the door unlocked and wide open. Petra and Heather no longer had any desire to escape. The two of them were now kissing each other deeply, holding each other in a loving embrace. They had their six massive breasts pressed against each other as they slowly caressed and kissed each other. “You see? Milking makes them so happy. They are now hyper-productive, hyper-sexual beings Look how happy they are. Anyway…” The man turned his attention back to Dan and me. “You have until tomorrow to decide. Eat all the food we bring you for breakfast tomorrow, or we will strap you down and force it down your throat!” With that threat, the man and the two guards walked out, leaving the cage door to the cowtaurs’ cell open.
“Well…” Dan stated morosely. “I guess that leaves us a choice to make doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said grimly.
Dan continued. “Either a life of happy slavery where we are too enthralled to know the difference between freedom and servitude. Or, a possibly very short life of hard fought freedom, where we very likely will die trying to escape here.”
“That about sums it up,” I said in a glum tone.
“Only one real choice for me.” Dan said plainly.
“Me too.” I concurred as I looked over at Petra and Heather still happily milking and kissing one another.
I must finish delivery of the supplies to master. Yes, the sooner I am done, the sooner I am Mooo….ilked. Yes, I don’t Moo…ind so much. In fact, I rather enjoy the way MOOO… my udder sways so heavily from side to side as I walk, hauling the supplies behind me. I love the way my udder bounces off of moo… my hind cow’s legs as it sways back and forth. Mmmm… Moo…ust hurry and finish delivery of the supplies for master. My udder is so heavy. I fill if I’m not Mooo…ilked soon that it may explode. Mmmm… Moo… my human breasts are so full too. They get so full and so heavy with Moo…ilk. They bounce off each other as I trot along on my four bovine hooves.
Ahh, the workday is done. Now I am rewarded. Returning to my Bull, Dan. I call him Cornflake. I provide the Moo…ilk for his cornflakes. Hehe. He calls Moo…me Sweet Pea. I’m not sure why. Something, I think, to do with when we first met. I don’t know. I can scarcely remember. I know that I was not happy back then. Not happy like I am now. Oh, how I love to return home to my Bull. That same handsome face he had when we first met, only now it sits atop a torso like Moo…ine filled with six huge moo…ilk filled human breasts. Oh, but don’t let his huge human boobs fool you. No, down below, on his lower body, he is all Bull. His huge bull testicles hang so low in fact, they almost drag the ground. His huge bull cock, I barely have time to get home into our barn before he mounts me from behind. He penetrates me lovingly with his huge, wet, cum-dripped bull cock. My wet and ready cow sex is ready for him. I take him inside me as he takes positions himself on my bovine back. He reaches around and caresses my six, huge, human breasts from behind. I feel his six large human breasts press against my human back as I feel the wonderful sensation of his bovine cock enter me. Life is Bliss.
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