I’ve been a little obsessed lately thinking of a Hucow (human cow anthropomorphism) story, but I haven’t been able to get it out as an entire idea yet. I thought I would write a little sample and see how I like it, then maybe write something more complete later on and see how it goes.
I thought of just a sample short of hucows being auctioned and the process of people inspecting them to see whether or not they want to bid on each hucow. So, here goes…
“Hello? Hello! Welcome everyone to the Prime Vice Auction! Now we’ll be bringing out the next round of specimens for you all to inspect before the bidding starts. Feel free to head on up take a look at these lovely heifers!”
The auctioneer tapped on the door behind the stage and it swung open. First was the cattleman who walked across the stage and behind him the heifer’s followed until he stopped at the far right looking into the crowd. They were all dressed in limited clothing for full access. They had small fabric coverings over their waist to keep their sex organs from view and each girl had their hair in a high ponytail with a small bell hanging from the holder that clanged gently when they walked.
There were ten heifers that stood and faced the crowd. Each had their positive and negative aspects about them, but they all looked well enough to be purchased on this day.
Some were nervous and glanced into the crowd of people then looked and chewed their lips while blushing, too shy to meet anyone’s eyes. Others looked around confidently, meeting the gaze of one individual and then looking onto another and then another. Some of the girl’s tails flicked about energetically while others hung motionless down their backsides. One heifer, Matilda, held her tail in her hands and twirled it in her fingers while chewing her bottom lip.
The farmers all made their way on stage and milled about around the girls. Most of the farmers were men, but there were a few women among them. Most of the farmers talked to each other, not addressing the heifers by name or directly to their face unless giving an order to bend or take a few steps forward or backward. They liked to test their balance as some hucows weren’t stable on their hind legs, having hooves instead of feet. These girls often needed assistance walking or had to be given prosthetic hooves for their hands to walk on all fours.
Most of the time the heifers were used strictly for milking and all of the farmers requested a sample to be produced, a thimble of milk directly from the nipple. They would often handle the breast themselves and milk the heifer by hand.
The hucows often possessed large breasts. The larger the breast size the more potent the milk production was thought to be, but this isn’t always the case. The majority of the heifer’s breasts on stage ranged from a DD cup to an H, but Matilda held small at a modest B.
“This one don’t look like much,” an old man said as he gripped Matilda’s chin and tilted her head from one side to the other. She moved evenly with his grip and motion, trying to keep a small smile on her lips.
“Oh I assure you, Matilda might not be blessed with size but she’s got more than enough milk for you, sir,” the auctioneer poked his head between them and cupped one of Matilda’s breasts, holding it up for the farmer.
“Go ahead, sir, have a sample. She’s quick to let down and the flow is steady.”
The farmer peered at Matilda and then looked down at her chest. He took both breasts in his hands and gave them a squeeze, and followed that with a unconvinced shake of the head.
“Alright, git me a tiny bucket. Let’s see what girl can do.”
The farmer’s helper grabbed a thimble and held it at the tip of Matilda’s nipple as the farmer stroked her breast. His thumb started high on her chest and ran down the milky white flesh until it reached the nipple. He stroked his thumb a few times then began pulling on the tips of her nipple with one hand and continuing the stroking with the other. Within twenty seconds Matilda’s milk had began dripping into the thimble.
“Well, looks like she does have something in there,” the farmer said as his tiny bucket filled to the brim.
He threw back the milk as Matilda’s nipple continued to drip, now from both breasts, and ran down her stomach in a slow but steady flow.
“Mmm, not bad. Impressive actually for tits so small.”
The auctioneer smiled a salesman’s smile and the farmer gave Matilda’s breasts another firm squeeze and a shake. The milk slowed but continued a slow drip as he craned his neck around her to get a full look at her entirety.
“Not too bad, nope. Not bad at all. Henry, mark her down,” the farmer motioned for his helper, Henry, to mark her number down for the bidding.