You gasp and struggle a bit in your restricting bonds. An uncomfortable fullness covers your belly and tears stream down the sides of your face. You feel so weak. And the eggs are so heavy in your belly. Already you can feel them beginning to develop, the changes in the eggs signaling to your body to start producing milk in your hanging tits. Once again, this makes you struggle in your bonds desperate to be freed from this nightmare, begging god to just let you wake up in a warm bed before you were taken and made into cattle.
The long time cow next to you moans out again. The milk is still flowing from her tits into the cauldron. Now it seems inevitable that this is to be your fate. Always fucking, giving birth or milking. Her face tries to show expression, but the fight has been drained out of her through repeated milkings and being forced to give birth so many times.
Already you picture yourself like some of the more forgone ones, laying dazed with your tongue stuck out as you groan in pleasure with each pint of milked sucked from your body. One again you feel your cunt starting to drip at this thought. At this point you can't help but feel your imminent breaking to be anything but erotic. Silently you curse your bodies natural reactions, and once again try to struggle, hoping that you can escape before your obvious fate catches up with you.
You do not know that there is another wug behind you until you feel his webbed hand clutching at your aching sex. Once again your body betrays you and moans out in need. You don't know what he wants with you, but you don't mind so long as the good feeling on your aching sex remains in place. But a second alter you do mind. A hot feeling touches your ass as a stinging pain touches you.
Staring at the asses of some of the other girls around you, you realize what they are doing. It is a brand against your flesh. They are marking you as cattle and the clan's property, so that if you run away travelers know where to take you back to. The only sound that can escape your mouth is a pained moo. No other expression seems to work as the despair of being a piece of meat fills you with as much pain as the hot brand marking your supple flesh.
To your horror, once the wug is done marking you as an animal that is nothing but a piece of the clan's property, he removes his hand. This makes you give a pained whimper. At this point you care more about the little touches they give your needy and inflamed body than escape. You worry that once they get milk flowing from your tits, you won't want to leave. Already you can feel an uncomfortable full feeling there as well as they prepare for milk production. It seems inevitable, you will become a cow.
There is no escape. Nothing to do but just let it happen at this point. You whimper as you finally stops struggling and begin to lie limp in your bonds, waiting to be attached to the painful looking milk machines, each breath large and full of fear.
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