Just like everyone else on the block, I have the garage in the basement, on the back of the house. I guess that is convenient, for my purposes.

The floor is laid with inch thick, black silicon; soft and comfortably squeaky. The original door has been swapped, for a double sliding door, wide enough for a regular car to avoid sticking out too much. The walls are laid with beech-wood panels and coated with clear silicon.

In place of the regular controls, I had a touchscreen or plaque installed, just a week ago. Now I will be able to open and close the doors at will, aside from turning the lights on and off by myself; though it is set, so that none but me can actually control it.

On the left side, from the entrance; there are two doors, with small rooms behind them. I had decorated these, in the same style as the garage; just included a few extra accessories, for what I had in mind. I intend to make the first into more of a box, or a bed room; while the second has been modified, including the equipment for milking a cow.

The door on the right side, leads to the actual basement, of the home where I live. I leave two small room on each side decorated in the same style as in the garage; thus making this into a kind of a home, within my home, but for special purposes. Maybe you should consider it my private dungeon.

With everything set up, for a nice weekend; I walk down the flight of stairs from my mundane, everyday home; down to the basement, where I had secretly hidden away that one special passion of mine

It’s just a regular flight of wooden stairs, nothing fancy. The floor is unpainted, grey concrete; how boring is that? I only have the utilities: the heater, the washing machine and the likes down here; no need to go down here often, or to show it of for anyone, or even my friends. This is just the basement of my home. I even made the effort, in crafting a chute for my clothes; so I can just dump them, in the night.

At the end of the corridor, there is a door; I open and walk into the short hall. Once I closed the door behind myself, I take the second right door, intent on changing into the suit I had prepared for myself. It had been here for a while now, not quite forgotten, though.

To the right, I have a wooden bench along the entire length of the wall, to the left is the wardrobe hidden and a more comfortable silicon coated sofa in the innermost corner in the room.

The crystal clear door is coated with mate, black silicon, equipped with an indent to hold on to, if and when pushing the sliding door to the side. For now, I leave the door open; it makes no difference either way.

Once in the room, I turn towards the built-in wardrobe and slide up the first door, carefully inspecting the content with eager interest.

There are not all that many items within; and they are not very large, either, of course. A set of tubes, in the center; the anal, the vaginal and the oral tube. There is also a full set of hoof extensions; knee-long stockings and elbow-length gloves; both highly detailed and very effeminate in nature. Finally, there is a top, with emphasis on the nipples; or in this case, teats. Everything had been chosen, with a specific goal in mind; that of temporarily becoming a cow, exploring and enjoying lactation in a moderately prolonged session.

All I need to do, is to strip naked and undress, before I slip the tubes in. Nothing much or fancy; if you look at it from the practical standpoint, but if you see what you could get it is very exciting to me. I had been meticulous and picked out a part at the time; to build up an ensemble for myself, with the exact details I had in mind. Not so much with the price in mind; but because I fear I will ruin the moment and the image for myself, if I made anything wrong.

Once I had examined the content of my wardrobe, and determined that it is all there as I had intended it; I start disrobing, by pulling the top up over my head and placing it on the first hanger and inserting the hanger in the wardrobe. Next I slip my skirt down and step out of it, before I place it onto the second hanger and insert that into the wardrobe. I slip out of my indoors shoes I wear when I go down to the basement and place these at the bottom of the wardrobe; before I pull my white cotton socks off of my feet and insert them into the right and left shoe respectively. Finally, I slip the panties down and step out of them, before I place them on the hanger under the skirt. With that; I am nude, and ready to go.

I extend my hand and reach for the clear anal tube, pulling it out and examining it momentary, before I slip it in from behind, slipping my hand in between my legs. I feel the slippery silicon slip in and plop distinctivelky. I give it a pinch and a tentative tug; it does not come out, just as I had expected and hoped.

With the tube firmly in place, I can slip a finger in effortlessly, then stretch out the entrance as I please. With that out of the way, I extend my hand and extract the vaginal tube, slipping it into my orifice, as intended. Once again, I feel the distinct plop as it has slipped into place. The riveting tube holds its own and refuses to slip out, unless I perform the trick required.

As I let go of the tube, I realize that I am strangely wet and excitable. I reach out and extend my hand to pick up the third and final tube, the oral muzzle tube. Slipping it in between my lips and feeling it plop.

“Okay, that was just as easy as I had expected!” I exclaim; “Now it is time, for the fun part!” I ponder.

Just a minute after the oral tube had been inserted, I am already mute. I may have known it was a minute, but the effect is much stronger than I could have been expecting. This is not the first time I am exposed to a tube like this; I had enjoyed it back then and expected to enjoy it now, I intend to do it too.

As I look at the reflection in the mirror, in the back of the wardrobe; I can clearly see my face, with the bovine muzzle of a cow. It is what I had expected, just as I had envisioned it when I chose it.

“Of course, a cow does not speak, I guess!” I realize.

Since all the tubes are firmly in place, I pull out the clear silicon top and slip it down over my head; giving it a few tentative tugs, in order to ascertain that it is fitting just right.

I pull out the clear silicon socks or hoof extensions and slip them on, right and left respectively. As I look down, I notice how my feet start to change pose and shape, before the cloven hooves are taking form right under me.

“Glistering, black; glorious, beautiful!” I ponder, observing the newly formed bovine hooves on which I am standing.

“Just the one, final detail, before I can get into the spirit of things, and enjoy myself to the full!” I continue.

Of course, a pair of elbow length, crystal clear silicon gloves. I extract them, slipping my hands in and give them a few tentative tugs, feeling how they slip into place. A moment later, I feel my hands slipping into shape. The cloven hooves forming at the end of what is now my new forelegs. Thankfully, the hooves are perfect matches of my hind hooves on which I am already standing.

“Guess it was for the best, I did not close the door to this room!” I ponder.

“It should be safe, to close that door now!” I ponder, sliding the door shut behind me.

With the door closed behind me, I go down on all four hooves; leaving my human self behind me, as I turn towards the next door. Just a few more steps, and I am at the door. The plaque is comfortably reachable to me, even as I am standing on all fours.

“Now is the moment, to see if I had set this up just right. If I can’t open the door, I am stuck in here and alone!” I ponder; before I am lifting my right fore-hoof up towards the glossy, black rubber surface of the plaque before me, beside the door.

“This does feel strange!” I ponder, as I press the hoof onto the surface, feeling it slip in just enough to make the point.

If I try to pull the hoof back now, I fear it would just hold on to me and keep me stuck in place. I spread my fingers or digits, thus making the door slipping up before me before I pull my hoof back and step right in.

While I turn my back on the door, it closes behind me soundlessly. Since I had managed to open the door, before; I need not worry, I have control of everything, just as I had set it up beforehand.

I continue from the door I had just left behind me, to the door out to the back of my home; facing the plaque, placing my right fore-hoof firmly, squarely in the middle and slowly adjust the light setting of the room, to make it more comfortable.

“There, now the light is just right for me!” I ponder.

I open the door behind my home, looking out; examining the surroundings, only to find them satisfactory. Once I had my fill of the view and the outside air; I close the door behind myself, satisfied for the moment.

“Okay, maybe I should rest, for a moment!” I ponder.

I trot over to the door of my bed room and slide the door up; before I step in and close the door behind myself. I lift my right hoof up to the plaque and dim down the light. Once the light is low, I move over to the inner corner and lie down; finding a comfortable spot and close my eyes.

While my eyes are remaining closed, I enjoy a restful and comforting slumber. While the rest only lasts for an hour, but that is quite enough; I feel rested and ready to face my day.

My sister had asked me to come over, so I could not just ignore her. It isn't all that much of an effort, going to her home, where she lives.

The front door is closed and securely locked, but that's the way it should be. I pull out my spare key to the door, unlock the door and let myself in, closing the door behind me and lock it.

The room is quiet, so I walk over to the kitchen, only to find a note on the table.

“I am in the basement!” the message reads, signed “Ms. Moo”.

“Oh!” I pronounce; “Guess she wants me to see her in the dungeon!” I ponder.

I walk out of the kitchen, to the door of the basement. As I open the door, I see the mundane flight of stairs.

“I could have painted these for her!” I ponder; “But if she doesn't ask me to, I should lave it the way she wants it!” I continue.

At the end of the corridor, I see the newly installed plaque, so I place the palm of my right hand on it and spread my fingers wide. The door slides up before me and I step in; the door closes behind me and I continue into the hall of her dungeon.

I take the first room on my right. The door slides up without a problem, so I step right in and close the door behind myself.

The first I noise is a wooden bench on the left, then I see a wardrobe behind the door. Of course, this would be my changing room; where I change into the attire for the occasion. She must have prepared an ensemble for me to wear, during my stay in her dungeon.

“What could she possibly have dreamed up, for me to wear?” I ponder, as I open the door to the wardrobe in order to examine what she had prepared for me.

“Oh, but of course!” I exclaim.

A pair of ultra short, crystal clear silicon gloves and a pair of matching socks. A set of three tubes to be fitted Analy, vaginally and orally.

“A bit scant, but this is after all her dungeon, not mine!” I ponder.

There is a seven and a half inch, crystal clear, rubber egg; on the bottom of my wardrobe.

“That must be for her! She wants me to help her inserting it, for her!” I ponder, as I look at the large item.

I pull my white cotton top up over my head, before I place it on the first hanger and leave it in the wardrobe.

I step out of my shoes, place them on the floor of the wardrobe; before I slip my white tube socks off of my feet, right and left; before I slip them into my shoes for later.

Now I slip my pink denim skirt down, step out of it and place it on the next hanger; before I slip my white cotton panties off of me and place them under the skirt on the second hanger.

"Okay, I am nude; I guess it is time to try out what she left for me in the hopes that they actually do fit me!” I ponder.

I extract the skin tone anal tube, reach in between my legs and insert the tube. I feel the slippery and sleek material slip in effortlessly, and finally plop. As the tube plop, the riveting effect is pinching me firmly, but I ignore the sensation for now; in the hopes that it would fade out, soon. I feel no other, outstanding or adverse effect from the inserted anal tube.

Now I extract the vaginal tube, reach down between my legs and insert the tube. Just like the anal tube, it slips in only too easily and plop. Once in place, I feel a new pinch, but it soon fades out of my conscious awareness.

I extract the oral tube, and insert it into my mouth between slightly parted lips. While there is a momentary pinch, as the tube plops, I soon realize just how different this tube is. My lips part slightly, as they contract. I feel my throat contracting completely, leaving me to breathe through my nose.

“That was odd; quite the strong effect!” I realize, utterly incapable of speech.

I guess I had forgotten to check what the tubes were supposed to do, as well as how to extract them, once I am done.

I lift my right foot, as I extract the sock with my left hand; slipping my foot into it and change pose in order to continue. Now I extract the left sock with my right hand, lifting the foot up and slipping it into the sock. I notice how the socks initially stretch, before they right themselves after a few tentative tugs.

I extract the right glove and slip it on my hand; before I extract the left glove and slip that on as well. Inch long, semi square, crustal clear nails from the final joint of each finger. Bright cerise, highly sensitive touch pads under each finger, from the joint to just under the nail. I also have a silicon white suction cup, covering the palm of each hand.

“Curious, but exciting!” I ponder, still incapable of voicing my thoughts.

As I look down, I realize that I am standing on the tips of my toes, while my posture had changed to accommodate for it.

“I should check, if she is expecting my services, just yet!” I ponder.

Since I had dressed up for the job, I could as well explore the rest of her dungeon. The door to her changing room is open, but there is nothing to see. She is clearly not there, now.

I continue to the door at the end of the hall, facing the plaque, identical to the one I used to open the door to the hall. I place the palm of my right hand squarely on the glistering black rubber of the plaque, spreading my fingers and open the door.

As I step through, the door closes behind me, quietly. I can see that the main space of her dungeon is decorated in the same style as I had seen before, nothing new to see. The room I basically empty and deserted.

There are two rooms to small rooms on the other side, just as there is a new plaque by the large door to the back of her home. I walk over to the first of the smaller doors. I open it, only to see that it is empty.

“This must be the room in which she intends for me to milk her!” I realize, giggling.

I move over to the next door, behind which she is resting. I open the door, before I enter the room. Just as I had expected, she is lying on the floor of the room.

“Do I wake her up, before I insert the egg?” I ponder.

Does she want me to insert the egg vaginally or anally?” I ask myself, while I look at her, where she is lying.

She clearly had dressed up as a cow; so I guess I should treat her as such, now. Isn't that what she had asked me for, when she wanted me to milk her?

“As a cow, there is but the one viable option; even if she is still looking like the girl, I formerly knew as my sister!” I ponder.

She is still my sister, just in the form of a cow. Not an actual bovine internally, but she is still looking like a cow.

“If I could pose her for what I have to do, I should be able to perform the task I came to do!” I ponder.

If I could just bend her legs in under herself and position her on the proper distance from a wall? Placing the egg beside her is only too easy. Turning the pointy end towards her is just as easy.

Now I manage to part her legs and pull in her knees under her, before I aim her rear end towards the egg. I slide her closer to the egg; stopping only, as I see the egg actually touching her rump.

“For a cow, she is a tail short!” I realize, but I could let that slide.

I stand with one foot on each side of her, over her waist; bending forwards, placing my hands on her rump. Now I slide my fingers in, grabbing a firm grip and slowly pull her up and dilate her. I tentatively try to push her body forwards, while I maintain her rump open and dilated. The egg is slowly sliding inside, as I push forwards.

For a moment, I fear I would wake her up, of that the egg would slip out of alignment; yet, she remains still and relaxed, while the egg slide in, inch by inch. In about a minute or two, I can clearly see the egg sliding in and start to plop. I am slowly letting go, letting her do the final push. The egg soon slide all the way in as she is contracting around the egg.

With little to no further guidance on my part, the egg is finding its final, comfortable resting place inside her; where it can remain, without bothering my sister more than a regular pregnancy would have done.

With the task of inserting the egg into her is complete, I turn her over on her back and help her stretch out into a more comfortable pose; before I walk out of the room and close the door behind me.

“This is what she asked me to do, I can only hope it proves to be as she envisioned it!” I ponder, as I step over to the second door.

As I enter the room, it I decorated in the same style as the rest of her dungeon.

There is also a chair for me to sit on, aside from the two tubes with large cps for her nipples or teats to fit into. I would have to admit, her nipples are much larger than I recall; quite exciting, if I can say so myself.

The floor is ultra smooth, polished to a high finish; glistering in even the spares light in the room. The walls are fairly glossy, for the apparent wood it had been laid with.

I have a closet by the door, within which I can find a few buckets; stainless steel, wood, plastic. Whichever I chose to fancy.

“I think I will enjoy assisting her as her milk-maid!” I realize.

“The clear plastic bucket seems more to my likings, even if I appreciate the care she put into offering me these choices!” I ponder.

“Oh, wonder what is behind that!” I ponder, as I notice what looks like a locker.

There is no place for a key, so I will just have to push it open. Of course, there is a plug shaped almost like a penis; with just a symmetrical head and a shaft.

“More fun to play with, without all the pointless and intrusive details!” I ponder.

I notice my sister entering the room, but pretend to sleep and ignores her presence.

She is moving me around and posing me up, for what I had asked her to do. It is fun and strangely exciting; to have her performing the task, I gave her.

Her hands touching my rump, sliding over the skin; slipping inside and permitting her to get a good grip. I feel myself being spread open and dilate; for the large egg to enter me.

"Oh, oh!” I ponder.

"That does feel good!” I realize.

The sleek egg is sliding in with eager anticipation. As my sister is letting go, I find myself pushing the egg in, the rest of the way. I had not anticipated it to be this easy. I had expected some minor complications, with her inserting the egg for me without any communication between the two of us.

Guess I had not expected the tubes to mute me, and not quite this effectively. I can only imagine, she had not been prepared for this either.

She was kind enough, to move me over on my back, and leave me in a more relaxed position; before she walked out of the room, leaving me to rest in peace.

My belly is clearly extended, with my womb filed up by the egg she inserted into me. I feel it pressing out and the weight it is carrying with it. This is a new, strange sensation, I have no experience of this; since I have never been pregnant or had an egg inserted. I may or may not have been playing with smaller eggs, for the fun of it; nothing like this.

The egg is not too heavy, I had after all chosen it myself; I would never have chosen it, if I thought it would be too heavy to carry. If it had been heavy, it would not have been either fun or pleasant in the first place.

The one drawback, of being a cow; I can't reach myself, so I can no longer stimulate myself for the fun and pleasure of it. Good thing, my sister agreed to help me out, now I don't need to worry. She is always the helpful one, so I did not worry about her helping me out here.

After slow and careful deliberation, I collect my hooves under me and rise up on all fours, before I start to move towards the now closed door before me.

As I open the door, I step out and continue towards the next door; behind which my sister, the milk-maid is waiting for me.

The second door slides up, only too easily and I step right in, moving into the room and close the door behind me. As I had expected, she is indeed waiting for me. With the tube firmly in her mouth, she is mute; just like I am, as a cow. I had chosen the tubes myself, to design the perfect scenario for me to explore and enjoy. A cow does not understand what the milk-maid says; neither do I understand what she says now.

She is looking at me, as I move into position.

“There, I hope you will enjoy my services!” she merely ponder, without parting her lips and voice her thought.

“I am sure I will, I asked you to be my milk-maid!” I ponder, in response to the unspoken words.

Once I am in position, she is pulling out the cups and places them on my teats. I feel the tightness around what had passed for my now heavily enlarged nipples, these cups had been designed for the purpose. A moment later, I feel the tingling of the vacuum building up; then another and different tingling sensation of an electric buzz, before I feel the squirt of my milk flowing out.

Of course, the milk is not white, but clear; just as it is not thin as water, but thick and slippery as if it had been a lubricant. I do not see, or feel it; where I stand, while the milk pours down the clear rubber tube and out into a tank.

“Oh, oh!” I ponder; “This is exactly as good as I had imagined it!” I realize.

“Did she need the egg and pregnancy for this; or is that just a convenient rouse, giving her the image of what she made herself out to be, for the scenario?” my sister, the milk-maid ponders, as she is watching me.

“I think my cow needs her feed, I just hope she enjoys what I prepared for her!” my sister ponders.

She had seen the feeder, of course. She had examined the room, while I lay in the other room and rested. Now she is exposing the plug, carefully calling me forwards. I take a step forwards, pushing my muzzle onto the tip of the plug. The head soon slides into my mouth eagerly. I push forwards, just as the instructions had explained.

I feel the head filling my mouth. I push forwards, feeling it slide down my throat. I pull back an inch, then push forwards. With each push, I am rewarded with a solid, firm squirt of the thick, slippery liquid. I feel the head vibrating, teasing me to continue; pushing and pulling back, over and over.

It is just a little squirt, as stiff as it may hit the inner wall of my throat. Had it been more, I could not have continued for very long; since I would have had my fill as my stomach is filing up too fast. I still do move my head back and forth slowly, as to prolong the moment as much as I possibly could.

“Good cow, you're doing quite well!” my sister ponders; as she sees the clear liquid flowing down the tube, while I am eating the meal provided for me.

“Tick, tick, tick! Tick, tick, tick!” a noise is heard in the background, indicating my performance.

Each tick, representing a predefined volume of milk. Each tick is coming in a steady flow, as if it had been the tick on a heart monitor at the nearest hospital. The patient is doing well.

My sister is examining the figures, explaining exactly how much milk I have produced.

“If she is going by bovine standards, I am expecting a gallon from her!” she ponders.

“Did I forget to check, how much I would produce?” I ponder; “I certainly did make sure I got the milk I was hoping for!” I continue.

Going by the clear liquid through the tube, it is neither Human, nor Bovine milk; but rather a clear lubricant, just as I had requested.

“While the label could not define the exact quality, of the lubrication I produce; they did state that it is up to me, just how good it is going to be!” I ponder.

“Exactly how long, can I keep lactating, in a single session; and how long will it take, until I will feel the urge to return to the room?” I ponder.

I had taken a position, just right, for me to enjoy the plug installed for me to feed. I can't withdraw entirely, but I could stop moving my head. I am still not having my fill, so I keep sucking in order to have just one more squirt and then one more.

The milk-maid is clearly enjoying the sight, of me standing her; lactating and feeding. I could not blame her, considering that I had asked her to help me out here. As a matter of fact, I enjoy how she is ogling me and the expression on her face. I could but imagine, she is feeling much the same way as I feel right now.

“She is quite beautiful, where she is standing, lactating and feeding; while she is clearly pregnant now!” my sister realizes, as she is ogling me.

She is such a beautiful cow, I am fortunate to have her to care for and watch over!” I ponder, as I am watching my sister.

Being a milk-maid is more fun, than I had been expecting; when she originally asked me, but I had accepted her offer. I am glad I had accepted the offer, and not just because she is my sister.

“What if I took on the responsibility of another cow, or even several more cows? While it may become a full-time job, it would still be fun and enjoyable! The question is; will my sister accept, me taking on other cows on the side?” I ponder.

The question is for later, right now I have a cow to care for. Am I ready, to take up the responsibility for more cows, if I chose to find another one?

Eventually, the milk is running dry; there is nothing more, running down the tube. It is my responsibility, to liberate her teats from the cups. I kneel on the side of her, gripping both cups in a firm grip, tentatively giving the cups a gentle tug. The cups initially refuse to come free; but soon gives in with a distinct sucking noise, while her teats are stretched out until the cups looses their grip. Once the cups are free, I return them to the original place on the wall by her side.

“I think she has had her fill, for now!” I ponder, urging her to step back far enough for her to pull her mouth free from the plug she had had in her mouth. She is reluctantly pulling back.

“Hope the plug was the right size, for her; neither too large, nor too small!” I ponder.

“Assuming my tube is the same as hers, I could attempt to find out!” I ponder.

Yet, now is not the time. I pull out a cloth and polish the plug she had been having in her mouth, leaving it a high gloss. The smooth, clear plug doesn't look, as if it should be too much for me to swallow. I may not be a cow, but if I have the same oral tube as she had; it should fit just right, for me too.

“She has a muzzle, but does that affect the size of her mouth?” I ponder.

Her muzzle would add two and a half inch of length, to her mouth. The plug for her, had to be two and a half inch longer; than mine would be, because of that alone.

“Would she accept it, if I acquired a bit or halter, for the purpose of walking her, outside her home?” I ponder.

“Would I want to walk her in public, if I could acquire the bit or halter and would I want to do it in this case?” I ponder.

Of course, for as long as she is remaining the cow, she could not answer me; if I managed to ask her. She could respond, nodding her head in approval, or shake her head as a sign if she did not agree. I would still have to pull the tube out, or write it down for her to read it; if I wanted her to respond to such a request. I have to consider it carefully, she is my sister and I have respect for her.

While I had formulated the general idea, I leave it for later. I need to figure out how and why I wanted to go through with it; before I could ask anything of her, in the first place.

“Do I change back, into being a regular girl; or do I stay as the milk-maid, in public?” I ponder.

I do enjoy how this feels, but do I enjoy the reactions of people around me?

“Maybe I should have a small outhouse for me to sleep in, when I choose to stay in uniform? I do not feel like leaving the dungeon, wearing this!” I ponder.

Unless she had prepared the items for me, I will have to leave the house; in order to acquire the items I need, for what I have in mind!” I realize.

I do want the items required, for me to stay in character. If I want to stay the milk-maid, I need a home of my very own; with all the facilities required, for me to maintain a life here. I do not wish to walk out of the dungeon, in order to perform anything as the milk-maid she asked me to be for her.

I had enjoyed to be milked, lactation is after all a part of being the cow I had chosen to be for the duration.

She had used the automated equipment, but she had still served me; applying the cups to my teats and served me the feed, by making the plug available.

Strange how I had enjoyed to be fed in this manner. Not sure how I would have reacted, had I been offered this as the girl I was before I became the cow I am now.

I am fed and have been milked, so I can relax and rest for a moment. I trot off to my box, in the other small room.

For now, it is comfortable to just lie on the floor, it is comforting the inner bovine within me. I had summoned an inner bovine; because I wanted to enjoy this by myself; with only my sister by my side, as the milk-maid who is serving me.

If it is the tubes, but I do enjoy being the cow; it's quite comfortable and fun, when you get into it. Maybe these hooves does help me, slipping into the mood and get a better feel for what it is like.

For now, there isn't a care in the world; I am served and cared for. What is there, for me to complain about?

While walking is out of the question, mainly for the purpose of staying in character. Trotting from room to room is still easy. I can even control the light, and open and close the doors in order to get to where I want to go and see everything I want or need to see.

The cushion under me, is feeling quite comfortable; even with the egg signaling my first pregnancy, as a cow. I have never been pregnant; or experienced anything even slightly resembling one before, as human or cow. Of course, I had never been a cow before; the cow is a new and exciting experience to me, even with the first signs of the pregnancy.

That cushion had been a good choice, the winning ticket in the Royal lottery, if one were to put it in that manner.

Feeling the soft rubber under my belly is strangely comforting. How does one know or recognize the sensations of being pregnant; when one had no experience to compare with and no book to explain how it was to feel. Could either the book or the experience of a regular pregnancy be comparable or even relevant to my situation? Then again, why car?

I had chosen the egg, my sister had helped me to inset it. She had made a good ob out of it; just as she has been and is a very good milk-maid to me.

As I lie down, I feel the soft, yet firm substance of the cushion slides away from under me, just not more than to permit me the comfort I enjoy.

I get up early in the morning, and trot into the room. She is waiting for me, putting the cups onto my teats. While I am lactating, she is setting me up with food. I had found the feeding pleasant, enjoyable and tasty.

Once I had my fell, she is helpful enough to liberate me from the feeder. She even helps me pulling the cups from my teats, once I am no longer lactating. I commonly trot back to my box, resting for a moment. While I rest, I do enjoy the dim light and relative quiet.

By lunch, dinner and supper; I return to the room for milking. If I am hungry, she is only too eager to help me; setting me up for an extra mean.

While I do enjoy resting after I have been lactating; I do enjoy going out in the garden, just after my breakfast. Maybe it is the general privacy, in the early morning, or is it just that I am more eager in the morning.

I guess the vacation from my mundane life, is more relaxed,; than I had expected, or even intended it to be. I rest, most of the day. The milk-maid help me with lactation and feeding; each and every time, she is simply there to help me. I may choose to go out a few times each day, if I want to; or I could stay indoors, if I prefer.

I enjoy the day, and the life I chose for myself; just that I had lost track of time, aside from the sun going up and down. Who counts days, once they lost all meaning? As a cow, I certainly did not bother.

My sister does not bother me with any worldly stuff, as she is staying in character as the milk-maid. If she had said anything, would I have understood what she told me?

Days come and go, I enjoy being the cow. The pregnancy is going along, smoothly; not a single complication of problem in sight. What I had forgotten, is that all pregnancies comes to an end, eventually. That day, is today. It had been a week; since she inserted the egg. I had even forgotten, or ignored the detail, of how long the pregnancy of a cow is. Was it merely due to the fact that I had no intention to stay here, as long as such a pregnancy would last? Just a few weeks, could make no difference.

I had woken up, early in the morning. I had trotted into the other room, where my sister eagerly is helping me. I am lactating, right on schedule and gives a full gallon each time. I think that is fourthce a day, but if it is three, four or five times a day, I do not keep count.

I had had my breakfast and lunch, while I am lactating. Then there is a feeling, there is something different about this day. I have a contraction, almost as if I had had an orgasm.

For a moment, I just lay there, confused and wondering what could possibly be happening. I lay still, trying to relax and focus. There it is again, and again. Once, twice and thrice. I collect all four hooves under myself and rise to my full height. Not quite wobbly, but not quite as steady as I had been used to. There is no pain, not yet. I guess I should be grateful for that small comfort.

“If I could have asked the milk-maid? As a cow, I could not articulate how or what I feel, anyway!” I ponder.

Of course, this is exactly what I had asked for, in the first place; I wanted to be the cow, to be milked and fed like one. What would be the point, if I was breaking out of character, asking things, just because I was unsure or confused?

Standing on all fours, up and about; I step off of the cushion and trot off to the door. I open the door and step out; finding the door closing itself behind me, just as it had been intended to do.

While any regular cow could make plenty of noises, this is exactly what I can never do. Thankfully, I had set up a few things, for me to handle, from a cow's perspective. Like the light. The light is feeling far too bright now. I manage to lift my right fore hoof up and dim the light enough for my comfort.

I am looking around, the room is exactly as I had set it up; quiet and empty. Only now, it is dim and cool, too, just the way I want it now.

“I could go out, just to catch a breath!” I decide.

I manage to open the door and step out. Trotting down the path, originally intended for a very different and now quite unfamiliar vehicle. Just a few yards before me, I find the grass; stopping as I feel the comfort of the green grass under my hooves.

While I stand on the grass, quietly, I feel a new contraction; only harder and faster than the once before. It is almost as if I had been a bomb about to go of. With the next contraction, I almost panic and hurry to the door.

I barely manage to lift my hoof up to the plaque and open the door before me. Once the door finally do open, I scurry in, on wobbly legs, just as much from the near panic as the state in which I had found myself in. Of course the door is closing behind me, I need to do nothing to affirm it. I am thankful for the foresight I had as I set this up. Even if I had forgotten that it is merely how the system I bought works. The detail is inconsequential, either way. It does what I need it to do. I am not left open and exposed in my current situation.

As I hear the door close behind me, I feel more secure and manage to collect myself. I rein in the worst of the animal instincts within me. Yet, I am still alone. I need care, help to deal with what is before me. Maybe this is just because it is new to me, I have no idea what is about to happen; I have no experience, on which to judge the situation.

I look around, scanning the room; trying to find a way out, to escape the confusion in which I am currently ensnared.

The next door slides open and the milk-maid enters the room. She is quiet, mute. She is merely pointing at the room, in which she use to milk me. I follow her to the door, watching as she is controlling the door, making it open before my very eyes. I step in, after her and the door closes just behind me. Just as I hear the door close, I have a new contraction. What ever it is, it is imminent, I have precious little time left.

There is a new contraction, and then another. My contractions are so hard and fast, it is starting to be painful. Maybe I did not want it quite this realistic, after all. Yet, it's too late to change my mind now. Slowly, the image is clearing to me; I am pregnant and about to give birth. I guess I had known it all along, just as I had a vague, rudimentary image of how it would work out. Now I am here, but there is no turning back.

“Did I actually ask her for this?” I ponder.

“Oh, oh; ouch!” I ponder, as the contractions hit me, over and over again.

As she is looking at me; it is as if she was telling me how good I am doing, explaining just how close it is to the moment.

“Typical, I had asked for this!” I realize, even if I had not had an idea as to what it would be like to actually experience it and go through it.

Just as I had not known of or understood the pain involved, I know just as little of what it will do to me in the process, or how it will affect me as I go forwards with what I am doing. It is too late to change my mind now, the process has already begun and it is irrefutably irreversible; it will change me, as it is concluding.

She is leading me from the door, towards the cushion and points at the middle; indicating for me to stop there. I stand still, on all fours; as if it had been natural, as if I had been born a cow.

She is looking at me, observing my body and listening to what it is telling her. She is pointing at the cushion, once more; signaling for me to lie down. I follow her instructions; just as I have a new contraction, my legs tremble under the weight, the pressure of what I am doing. I am no heavier than I had been the day before, or a week before that; it is the effort of what I am doing, what is about to come down.

I never attempted to sit down, like a dog. Yet, I manage to lie down, more like a cow would have been lying down. I make my best, in order to make it as comfortable as I am able, under the current circumstances. The contractions just keep coming, harder and harder, faster and faster. It is a strain on me, an effort to keep up with it.

Would I have wanted to scream out, in pain and frustration; the way I feel, as the girl I had been or the cow I currently am right now? I can do neither; I am mute and devoiced. Maybe it is deeper than the stiff rubber lips I could have felt?

Right now, I guess I am still thankful; I can make none of the noises, thus alerting anyone and everyone close enough to hear. I certainly do not want anyone anywhere near me now. I trust none, safe for the milk-maid that is my sister.

At first, she had been standing on my right side, then she had circled around me in the blind hopes to see as much as possible of what she needed to see, to guide her through.

Once I lie on the ground, she had stopped on my right side, once more. She then steps over me; looking at my rump and facing the wall behind me.

At first, I do not see or feel anything; then I realize, that she is placing her hands on my rump. I feel the palms of her hands sliding back toward where my tail should have been. I feel her fingers sliding down and touching the rim pf my orifice where the anal tube is starting.

The tips of her fingers, sliding forwards; sliding in, into me. I have no say in this; I can not stop her, or prevent her by any means. I can not, I should not; because I need her to do, exactly what she is doing right now. Even if I am not aware of conscious of it.

If it had not been for the pregnancy, and I am just in the middle of giving birth; I would have loved her caring touches, in the form she is now. The squishy, yet stiff touch pads and the long semi square nails would have been delightful to me; yet now I am distracted by the contractions, forcing me to focus on other things, just as I am doing my best, not to let them get to me.

Each contraction, now growing into a stabbing pain, as my body is pushing out the egg my sister so carefully had inserted into me from behind. Maybe this is part of my confusion and lacking experience? Even if I am a cow, and it is the natural order of things.

My sister is grabbing the rip of the rear crater, pulling me up and forcing me to dilate further and faster in order to help me. Helping me to deliver, to let the calf out into the air, in the small room.

She is managing to get a firm, secure grip, pulling me wide open. I should be thankful, for what she is doing for me.

All I can feel, is the contractions; while I focus on pushing out the calf.

”Just one more push, and this will be all over!” a voice is screaming in my mind, over and over, with each and every last push as I contract all over and over again.

There is no scream, but I do feel the calf sliding out of me. First the cloven fore hooves, then the fore legs. I feel the head slide out, before the body. There is a splash beh8nd me, but no liquid is flowing out. Yet, I know I had made it. The pregnancy is at an end and the calf safely delivered. My womb is empty, all of a sudden. I am still inside, no more pain or contractions rocking me to the core.

I am relieved. If only I had realized, just what is coming next. It is not over, it is just the pregnancy.

My calf is healthy, hungry and in need of feeding.

For a moment the room is still and quiet. Nothing is wrong; everything went by the book. My daughter is fine. My sister did make no sign of anything being wrong.

I turn onto my right side, looking at the calf slowly moving around.

She does look like a fairly normal calf, or it is my image of what is right for her.

I can clearly see her trembling, as she attempts to stand up. He wobbles for a moment. In the end she manages to get up on all fours. I can clearly see her moving about, scanning the near vicinity around her for what is around her; while she is obviously looking for me, her mother.

Just as her mother she has cloven hooves, like any bovine would be expected to. She is moving about on all fours, just like any little calf is expected to. It is natural to her. I can clearly see it.

I am delighted, to be how she is taking after her mother. The cute little muzzle, and her lips almost identical to mine; albeit smaller, just as she is smaller than me. There is the one small detail sticking out, she has her ears on top of her head, just like any little calf. Maybe I should have looked closer, examined her, noticing how she has no tubes inserted, supporting the changes in me, just as she is not having anything enforcing her to trot around on four hooves.

Maybe I am simply too proud of her, as a mother.

I feel my hooves slip out, before my fore legs; then I am squished and slide all the way out. The next moment; I find myself on the floor, just behind my mother. Of course she is a cow, just as I am. I could dream up no contradiction.

The floor is a large cushion in the form of a mattress, but to me it is just the floor. It is soft under me, my hooves.

I try to stand up, struggling to collect my hooves under myself, but it is hard. My legs simply doesn't quite cooperate with me, at first.

Once I manage to stand up; I look around, finding her standing there, just a foot or two to the right. I look up at her. She is gorgeous, the best thing ever to exist. How could I think any different?

While I do hear the squeaking of my hooves, each and every step I take; everything else is quiet, not even my mother or that strange girl by her side says anything or make any other noises I can hear.

“Guess I could ignore the quiet, for now; I am hungry!” I ponder.

As I once more look up, I notice my mother now standing right in front of me, her right breast before me. I lift my head and aim my muzzle at the teat. She is perfect, I know the teat should slip right into my mouth.

I manage to part my lips, just enough to let me lick the top of the teat. I press forwards, feeling the teat slip right in between my lips.

Once I start to such, I feel my lips contract around the teat; then the first squirt hit the back of my mouth, slowly flowing down my throat. It is rich, thick, slippery and very delicious. Why shouldn't it be?

This is my first meal, I do not know what I am so expect; I just take it for granted, this is how milk should taste and feel in my mouth. Without any references to build your experience on, I am bound to take it in this manner. Should I complain, or whine about how it could have felt or tasted? Why? I like it and enjoy the taste.

There is a new squirt, and I suck harder. She rewards me with more. I feel the milk flow down my throat with ease, making it comfortable for me to swallow.

I continue, until I have had my fill. My belly is full and I am content. Maybe I had just one squirt too many, but it tasted too good for me to stop earlier.

Before I let go, I tentatively nibble, giving her a tentative tug; just for the fun of it, feeling the teat stretch out. She sigh, giving a clear signal of enjoying it. I give her a few more tugs, before I let go and lie down beside her. I am tired, content and a bit sleepy.

She is quiet, but I do notice that she is quite content. She is happy I am doing well, just as a mother should.

She just looks at me, nuzzling me and gives me all the warmth and comfort I could ever wish for. I have everything a little calf could need, wish for or possibly want in life.

After a moment, she is telling me to stand up and follow her. I am not sure why, but still follow her. She trots to the door and the door opens before her. I follow her out of the room.

She is opening the next door and I follow her into the room. A soft, squishy cushion on the floor

“My bed!” I ponder, as I take a few steps forwards and lie down.

She looks at me, with pride and joy. She is my other, my everything.

I step up onto the cushion in the middle of the room, trotting up on it and explore how it feels under my hooves. While I am a bit tied and sleepy, I do not put in the effort right now.

This does still feel good under my hooves, so I get down and lie down to rest. As I close my eyes, I soon fall asleep. The slumber is rest-full and content.

While I had chosen to be a cow, for the joy of lactation; nothing had prepared me, for what it is like to have your very first calf nibbling your teat.

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Author's Note

Next Book;

Careful what you wish for, Sparkles

W.i.P.