My Life as a Cow

by milkmaid

I'm a cow, a very highly paid and self pampered cow.

At first I didn't know that was what I was supposed to be but now I do. I'm supposed to be a cow; in fact I'm supposed to be a whole diary herd.

When I was 13, my mother took me see our doctor, she was worried that although I had had my first period, I hadn't didn't have breasts yet.

"Mrs. Steven's I don't think you have to worry. She isn't quite thirteen years old and her blood work shows normal even high levels of all the proper hormones. She is starting to blossom as a woman."

And blossom I did. I went nothing to a DD cup in six months and I continued to grow.

My nipples were tender all the time; my aureola got larger and larger every day. I had breasts to spare and they kept growing.

Soon I had the biggest bust in my class, then he whole school and finally, as far as I know, the whole city, maybe the world. I didn't become any taller or larger anywhere else. I was still the cute little girl with the blond hair and green eyes. Tiny, I was only five feet tall, with a eighteen inch waist. I didn't weight over one hundred pounds until I had breasts. I was almost 16 when my hips finally developed, hips which were reasonable for my size and height-- thirty two inches-- for which I'm glad. It let me buy clothing that wasn't marked 'Kids' any more although even they were much too large for my small waist. I'm sure that if you had seen me from the side you would wonder how I stand up. My waist was small and my breasts were big, very big.

I spent three hours a day in the gym to keep my back strong and I never ever slumped.

I was almost seventeen before I was used to my odd shape. I was getting used to always being looked at, it made me shy for a long time but then I started to like it.

My body still was full of surprises for me though, I started to give milk, just a little as first. I would leak a few drops when I masturbated in the morning shower with the little dildo I used, but then more and more. I went back to the doctor who told me that I was susceptible to galactoria, which meant that I was going to give milk whenever I stimulated my nipples for sure and maybe even if I didn't. He told me that I would be giving milk probably all my life and with breasts my size I was going to be a good producer.

I was. I avoided touching my nipples, the amount of milk I gave continued to increase. I tried to stop the milk, it didn't stop. I spent one weekend doing nothing but trying to end the constant milk production. I walked around my apartment with no bra, I didn't wear a blouse and didn't touch my breasts. Well I almost didn't touch my breasts, they were so big that they kept hitting things. Every time they touched something, they hurt and felt good at the same time. I was full and getting more full every minute. I finally gave up the idea late Sunday night. Milk was in my future. I might was well get used to it. I gave in and bought a breast pump. I had to pump myself for three hours the first time I used it, I was so full. I loved the feeling I got laying between two footstools with my breasts hanging down and the machine pumping me for hours. My bust was more than over sixty eight inches now when I was full. When I was empty I was had a full 52" bust, but full I had a bust measure larger than my height.

Soon I had to buy a full sized milking machine. I pumped myself every four hours and I got over six pints every time. I hated to just throw it away. I checked with the local hospital and found were willing take it. Later I found a place that would pay me eighty dollars an ounce. I was making several thousand dollars a week from my milk, and my output was still rising.

I arranged my life around my need to be milked every four hours. I ate like a pig, and drank water like a cow. I was always eating something and I was always thirsty. I still have an eighteen inch waist but you never see it. My stomach bulges with food all the time. Most of the time, it looks as if I have eaten a basketball. My body wants even more, so it can make more milk, always more milk. At this time, I was still trying to lead a normal life. You know family, dating, job but it was getting harder all the time. Especially the dating, I was unusual looking and now I had an unusual condition, too. The men who would date me were only interested in one thing and not the usual thing either; they were interested only in my huge breasts and in many cases my milk as well.

Then my body decided to throw me what I hope is the final curve. I usually masturbated both morning and evening, once when I take my shower in the morning, and once just before I go to sleep. When I was twenty years old I noticed that the orgasms were feeling better and better and that I needed a happy break in the middle of the day then I needed two. Soon everything was turning me on, walking, sitting down, and riding in a car. My hands were busy between my legs every chance I got.

It was time for another trip to the doctor. I had PSAS, Persistent Sexual Arousal Syndrome, I felt I felt horny all the time because I was horny all the time, relief only lasted a few minutes after I got off, at best. I was on the verge orgasm continuously. If I didn't satisfy my self I would spontaneously orgasm every seven or eight minutes. My lady lips were perpetually engorged. My clitoris, which was already a big as a walnut grew to the size of a golf ball and was a hard as a rock all the time. I always wanted sex. Every seven minutes I had an orgasm that left me panting and gasping but I was ready for another one before I even recovered.

I tried everything, I took anti-depressants, I took oxytocin, which did nothing but gave me even worse difficulties with my milk and added anther couple of gallons to my weekly production, I tried alpha waves, meditation everything.

It was the perceptual re-framing that helped, sort of I guess. I figured that my body wanted something all I had to do was figure out what and give it to it then things would be OK.

What it felt like it wanted was an orgasm but that wasn't working. What I discovered it really wanted was a big thick cock.

I became the best customer of dildos in the city. I needed a bigger one every few weeks.

But it is getting hard to find a big enough dildo. My latest is a custom one I had made from some type of silicone it is 15 inches around and almost 17 inches long, it will probably last me until the end of the month, then I will have to get a larger one. You wouldn't think such a monster would fit in a tiny lady like me, but my body has started to adapt. My hips have gotten wider, my skin has become capable of being stretched and stretched. In a year, I'm going to be using a dildo as tall was I am and as thick around as a telephone pole.

My breasts have started growing again producing ever more milk. Soon I will be producing 30 gallons a day, like a real cow and getting myself off with a dildo bigger that any bull.

I've found out what my body wants. It wants me to be a cow; no it wants me to be a whole diary herd.

So that is my life: eat, pump my breasts, and have orgasm after orgasm using a dildo that keeps getting bigger and bigger. I hardly need any sleep any more, as long as the milking machine is running. I'm a very contented cow.

I’m going to end up eating day and night while my six hundred pound breasts produce as much as a milk as ten cows and pleasuring myself with a telephone pole sized dildo, day and night, eating and eating to make milk, more and more milk.

I can hardly wait! It is what I was meant to do.