Chapter 9: The Finale
The other sows made a great fuss of ginnysow when she was reintroduced. They had missed her and made her feel welcome. They could not believe that her husband had sold her back to the farm. Some of them were really indignant at him, others were just pleased he had so that she could be back among them. Ginnysow was overwhelmed and seemed on a high with all the attention. As she talked, one of the sows slipped their fingers down between her legs and she felt the warm glow ascend her spine at the touch. She turned to face her and as she did, the sow moved in, her lips pressing against hers. Their heads danced about each other’s as their lips pecked. Ginnysow felt the press of the other sow’s udders as she moved closer, her own udders were squashed against her as an arm snaked round her back and pressed her tightly. Her lips parted and the sow entered her mouth. The milk oozed from the chests of both sows, fusing them together as they kissed and embraced. The fingers probing her slit pressed deeper, and ginnysow abandoned herself to the probing persistent desires of her body. Ginnysow was bubbling with excitement.
A day or two later Matt wandered into her room carrying a small metal bell in his hand. On it was engraved her registration number and the name of the farm. In his other hand Matt held a pair of pliers.
“Time to become a full member,” he said. Ginnysow sat on the bed and held her head up towards the ceiling while Matt worked at her neck. He slipped the ring into her collar, it was awkward with the small ring embedded in the leather. Matt fiddled with the pliers to secure the bell. Ginny could feel his scent filling her nostrils and wriggled her knees on either side of him as he worked, bringing her body closer to him, embracing him. She always felt an instinctive wave of security around Matt. Finally he moved away and the bell was locked in place.
“There that’s not going to come off now, not matter what.”
He made Ginnysow stand up and walk about the room. She listened to the soft tinkling sound as she moved. Just something else she would have to get used to, yet it was soothing. She liked it. She liked the constant reminder she was one of the herd now. Her mind wandered back to the farm she grew up in, remembering the soft clanging of the cow bells in the early morning as they were brought in for milking. It was a deeply reassuring sound for her, associated with her childhood. Now here she was with her own bell that she could not remove that would gently tinkle about her neck, announcing her own progress towards the milking sheds.
Maybe it took a couple more days before what had happened finally hit home. The first week of her life as a permanent milk sow was nearing its end, and unlike last time, ginnysow realised there was no going home in a day or two. She thought of Ben and she missed him greatly. A wave of sadness swallowed her insides. She wondered how he was doing, what he thought of her.
“I feel so miserable,” she confided.
“Aww. What’s the matter?”
“I miss Ben. I think it finally sunk in that he is not going to drive round and pick me up at the end of the week.”
“Hey, that guy ain’t worth the fret! He just come and dumped you here. I wouldn’t waste another moment of my life worrying about him.”
Ginny looked shocked at her. “No! It’s not like that. You don’t understand.” She looked down, collecting her thoughts or preparing herself for what she was about to say. “It is all my fault. I knew he wasn’t comfortable with it. I needed him to treat me like a sow, and I pushed him. I pushed him, even though I knew he wasn’t comfortable with it. I knew what he wanted, but I couldn’t be that wife any more. I wanted to be his sow. I stood there for ages in the shop, walking around and kept coming back and picking up the crops. I wanted him to use it on me. I wanted him to correct me, to put me in my place. I needed him to train me and couple the stinging slaps of correction with soft words of encouragement, moulding me into his sow. I wanted all this and knew he wouldn’t do it, yet I wouldn’t listen. I have been a terrible wife. Who could blame him for sending me back to the farm? He couldn’t handle it. That’s not a marriage… and now I’ve lost him.” Ginny sobbed. The sow looked shocked, but reached out to her.
“Come here my love. You poor sow, come into my arms and let me comfort you.” Ginny slipped into her embrace. Through her tears she watched the looming udder of the sow engulf her. She felt the soft comfort envelope her, and without a thought she twisted her head round and brought her mouth towards the teat. Ginny drew on it and felt the warm gush of soothing milk squirt into her mouth. She felt the embrace of arms enfold her, and the steady rocking motion comfort her.
Life at the farm was far more intense than before, and ginnysow threw herself into it. Matt explained to her that now she was registered as one of their sows, they no longer tandoğan escort needed her consent to make use of her body for farm business. So her feed would contain a new mix of hormones that would transform her still more. She needed to earn her keep now, as she could no longer pay them a fee. These hormones would make her slit itch slightly, and she would find it was constantly wet. She would get used to this continual reminder of her sexual purpose and make her enjoy all the more playing with the customers who came. Guys looking for a sow always paid more for those who were already glistening in anticipation. So the farm kept all its sows in a state of semi-arousal, encouraging her production of pheromones that would make her more attractive. That way the farm could get the best prices for them, making them perform more energetically and at the same time the sows derived immense pleasure while working at the service of the farm. Yet their arousal level was strictly maintained.
Ginnysow listened as Matt explained. She felt excited and a trickle already formed at her opening as she contemplated the prospect of the farm manipulating her body for its own purposes, making sure she was a good sow, her body working for the good of the farm. It reinforced in her mind that her sow body was now farm property — her reaction to his words were immaterial. Yet she liked the idea that they would control her so utterly, that she would become increasingly dependent upon them. She was part of their herd now, and she revelled in the notion of being kept, all these busy men taking care of all her needs. Each morning Matt came in and brought her feed. He spent time with her as she ate, and he spoke kindly and encouragingly towards her. When she had eaten he made her massage her udders in front of him, telling her how to work them in seductive ways.
He also made her finger herself and open her thighs to present herself to him as her fingers circled her clit. It was true her slit had become very itchy very quickly, and she kept trying to steal her hand down there to get some relief when no one was around. But she found it hard to do it with Matt watching over her. She resisted and he had used the crop several times on her before she was cowed. Ginnysow still struggled with feelings of shame as her fingers followed his instructions, slipping in and out of her wet slit, now bald and openly presented before him. The more she tried to obey, the more she seemed to reinforce her embarrassment. She lay exposed before him, frantically working herself and feeling demeaned as she failed to cum.
Matt seemed to have a lot of patience, and watched her efforts with equanimity. It took about a week to break her. She was lying on her stomach, butt raised with her fingers buried deeply inside her. Matt was swinging the crop over her exposed cheeks with stinging accuracy when she felt the eruption begin in the pit of her stomach and shudder down her spine. Her legs quivered as her mouth forced open by the pressure building in her gut released a scream, a primal response echoing from her body, and a torrent of cum spilled across her hand and onto the sheets. Matt’s hand, high above her, halted and he dropped the crop as he watched her. He lay himself on top of her, his hand rubbing at the back of her neck and pinching at her flesh. He kissed her by her ear and whispered to her what a good sow she was to make herself cum for him.
He picked up her wet hand and placed it at the entrance to her tight back passage. He aligned her finger with it and helped her ease it in. He watched her sticky coated finger slide passed the restraining muscles and then as it withdrew, her knuckle reappear from within those gooey folds of skin. He held her hand gently, guiding her finger in and out of her, until she had smothered her entrance. Then he raised himself and sank himself slowly into that passage and took possession of her. Ginnysow came again instantly, feeling the tightness of her body wrap itself around his member, feeling his heat inside her, pulling at her and her clit emerging from its hood, filled the tight space between her belly and the sheets, was rocked in unison with their conjoined bodies.
It did not take long after that for ginnysow to regularly finger herself into cumming on Matt’s command. He reinforced the message by milking her over his lap and having her finger herself into cumming as he attended to her. In the evenings ginnysow was herded along with the other sows into the large room where the milking machines awaited them. The farm only had one Mark II version with the steel cock, and that was only used sparingly as a special reward.
Far more difficult was ginnysow’s struggle to stop referring to her chest by any words other than her udders. Matt would no longer allow her to refer to them as her tits, and he would punish her without exception whenever she slipped up. She still hated the punishment he meted out to tekirdağ escort her, but at the same time she liked the fact he was so particular about her. He never seemed to be angry, just patiently wearing her down. He explained to her that she was no longer to think of herself as a woman, and words such as breasts or tits or any others were inappropriate for her now. Her udders were part of her identity now. It was important for her to recognise the changes in her physiology as well as her status. It was not just a word, but an acknowledgement of their milk bearing purpose. At first this had seemed just a game. Surely it didn’t matter the words she used, it was how she thought about herself that mattered. Yet the constant reinforcing of this message did have a surprising effect upon how she began to think of herself. The memory of the stinging slap of the crop made her flinch even when she was alone and in unguarded moments forgot to think of herself as a sow. It was a slow gradual transformation in her mind of her former self.
When she was horny, ginnysow found it easy; she loved to think of that moment when the needles had penetrated her behind and indelibly and forever made her into this sow. At other times, she thought of Ben and her sadness welled up again. At these times ginnysow took on her role as some kind of devotion. It required an effort of will, a determination and that drove her to murmur persistently to herself that she was a sow even when she was quite alone. This effort of will was gradually changing how she thought of herself. Little by little she became enraptured by the pleasures she derived from her body. She took pride in her udders and the milk they produced, and her cunt responded quickly, without restraint, at the slightest provocation. Her lips tormented the other sows, and she loved to feel her legs entwined with another, her tongue lapping at nectar. This was her drug, it drove out her sadness and she could feel some happiness again for a time. All these changes were being encouraged by the constant whispered words of her handlers, reinforcing positive messages accumulating in her mind.
One day ginnysow was relaxing in her room when the door opened and a middle-aged man stepped inside.
“Dad?” she spoke tentatively as if her words would make the apparition dissolve in a shattering array of sparks. He stood at the doorway of her room.
“May I come in?” he was polite and smiling. Ginny felt embarrassed at meeting him here, but she welcomed the smile on his face. She leaped up and hugged him. Kissing him on the cheek she asked, “How did you find me?”
He moved over to a chair and sat while she settled on the bed. “I have spoken with Ben and he told me what had happened. I am really sorry for the pair of you.”
Ginny’s arms instinctively looped around her knees which were drawn up to cover her chest. She felt acutely embarrassed to be naked before her father. Her mind worked through what he had said like a fire of thought raging out of control.
“You know everything?” she asked tentatively. It was a stupid question, she felt. Her bell was very visible around her neck and her registration mark would be eye catching enough to him.
“I do, and I had to come straight away to see you.” He was still smiling and there was love in his eyes. “Let me see you. Show me your registration mark.”
All the old fantasies haunted her thoughts as she slowly complied. Here at last she was, naked before her father, a bell hanging from the collar around her neck and bending slightly before him to reveal the large stamp on her rump. A stamp that displayed to him she was now a cow like all the other cows that had been in his care. She felt ashamed, the more so for the buzzing excitement in her clit as she stood feeling his eyes burn on her ass.
“You wanted this?” was all he asked. He did not sound incredulous, there was no hint of accusation or disbelief in his voice. He sounded concerned, wanting to be sure Ben had not forced her. Ginny turned, standing erect before his seated form, her arms hanging limply along her sides, her face solemn. She just nodded. She could not say it, even after all this training, she still could not admit it out loud to her father. He smiled and lifted her hand and kissed it.
“Sit back down now.”
He reached into his pocket and took out a small box. He opened it gingerly and emptied its contents into the palm of his hand. Ginny sat filled with curiosity. As her father discarded the box on the floor, he held his hand out. It was curled protectively around whatever he had taken out. She sat and stared at it in fascination. She could not work out what he might have in his hand, but understood it was delicate. Then he opened his hand. On the flat of his palm rested a beautiful butterfly. As Ginny looked she saw it lift its wings for a moment and then ascended into the air.
“Can you imagine the day a little grub breaks free tokat escort of its chrysalis and stretches its wings for the first time?” he looked at her.
“Everything that little grub has known in life has told it that it is ugly and hunted by predators seeking to devour it. The grub spends its whole life hiding in the undergrowth, not daring to show itself. Then one day everything changes… absolutely everything. It has a new body, new knowledge and a new life beckons. Imagine it sitting there trying to take in all these changes. Will it be able to fly? Can it trust this new found ability? The very moment of take off feeling the fear, suddenly everything it had learned about hiding away and protecting itself from being eaten would be thrown aside as it prepares to launch its peacock feathers into the open unprotected skies. Imagine the mixed sensations this butterfly feels as it contemplates the freedom of the open air, unfettered by gravity, able to soar above the prison of the undergrowth; and at the same time the exposure to unseen predators that from nowhere may swoop down upon it. All its experiences have to be unlearned and in that moment of hesitation before it lifts off the ground for the first time, caution must be thrown away as the price for freedom.”
They both sat in silence for a moment watching the butterfly flit about the room. Ginny contemplated her father’s story, unsure exactly what he meant, but feeling reassurance in his words.
“We do not know what we will have to leave behind as we launch ourselves into the lives we have been given, grasping those things we are meant to be.” He looked directly at her now. Ginny wondered about her own adventure: was she losing her freedom, as she had always imagined being a sow meant? Perhaps she had finally grasped it?
“You know, Ginny, I have worked with animals all my life.” He turned to her and smiled. “They can’t tell me what is wrong with them, and they are frustrated when I don’t seem to understand them as they call to me in their own fashion. So I have had to learn to read the signs. I have had to learn to hear what is in the room but can’t be expressed. It is like a sixth sense, and everyone who works with animals has to pick up this knack if they are to be at all successful. It has enabled me to properly care for the animals in my charge. It is how I read what was behind you creeping into the milking sheds and watching us work with the cows each morning.”
“What! No that can’t be… I was just…” her father put up his hand.
“It’s ok, ginnyling. You have no need to skulk in the undergrowth any longer. I understood the hot fluster you felt and your face shone. Of course, I thought it was just a teenage fantasy that you would grow out of.”
“How could you…. You never said,” then as her mind worked out the implication, “Does everyone know?” a look of horror gripping her face.
“No, I told no one. As I said, I just thought it was a passing phase. When you worked so hard to succeed in your exams I just forgot about it. Yet it seems when I asked Ben to build that machine, those feelings had not gone away.”
“You! You asked him to build the machine? You were the backer?”
“Yes. It seemed a good idea. It was clear cow milk was going to go in decline with these sow farms. Everyone was clamouring for human milk, and I knew Ben would be able to design and build a good milking machine.”
Ginny’s eyes were wide. “But Ben told me he couldn’t say who the backer was. Was that you then?”
Her father looked down and shook his head. “Yes it was. I am not sure I know why I insisted he didn’t tell you. It was more instinct. Finding you here makes me now wonder whether I had not completely forgotten your fantasy. I can see it was more than a passing phase, it is part of you is it not Ginny?” She nodded and smiled. She felt some relief at hearing her father recognise the need in her.
“Yes it is, which is why it is not Ben’s fault I am here.”
“I want to take you home.” Ginny looked at her father. She understood he somehow wanted to make things alright, but that was not the way. She smiled and kissed him.
“No. I don’t think that is right. I am better off here, surrounded by those who understand me. Here I can fly, and be the butterfly. Out there I’d be back in the undergrowth: a timid mouse in hiding. I can’t go back. It is not so bad. For centuries women have cloistered themselves away to serve what they believed in. I don’t have such a grand belief, I am here serving my own needs, but I am cloistered with those who know what pleasure a properly trained female body can yield. I have achieved greater pleasure from this journey than I ever imagined possible! Yet I understand there has been a price. I miss Ben terribly, and I feel guilty for the hurt my freedom has caused him. How I wish it were not so. How I wish to be Ben’s sow.”
Ginny paused, reflecting on her loss. How complete her life would be with him as her master. Then she brightened and said, “and that is why I know I need to stay here. Besides I have put my name down for breeding.” She put her hand to her belly and smiled. Her father stared,
“Ginny! Are you sure?”
“It’s ok. It is what my body is designed for.”