Chad thought over his possible actions. He could try to perform a hunger strike and spite Leif, but he wasn’t sure what Leif might do if he wasn’t compliant. He admonished himself. He knew Leif would change other members of his team into reindeer to meet milk demands. What was unknown is how Leif would treat him, specifically, if he refused to eat. It didn’t seem Leif had much more control over his body, but there was a real chance he might be butchered for venison if he wasn’t producing milk, or enough milk.
His stomach grumbled. There was also the fact that he was going to be eating for two, and his unborn child would probably die if he intentionally malnourished himself. Or maybe malnutrition while being pregnant could kill him, as well.
That led him to the other main choice in his mind: pretend to obey Leif as best he could. Maybe, if he overate, that would convert into more milk and show he was accepting the new lifestyle. It would lower Leif’s defenses, and may give Chad the break he needs to escape this place. At worst, he wouldn’t have the weight of condemning one of his teammates to the current fate that has fallen upon him.
Chad took a few uncertain steps toward the feeding trough, and took a careful bite. It didn’t have much taste, but it definitely went down. He wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to stomach this dry feed, day after day, but it’s not like he had much else to do. With the test done, he decided to gorge himself on as much feed as he could eat.
Mouthful after mouthful went into his gut, and as he suspected, the trough made a beeping sound and more feed flowed into it once it reached a low enough point. By that point, he was feeling a bit nauseous and overly full, so he decided to rest it off. It was better than walking in circles within this terrible prison.
And that is how he spent Thursday. On Friday, Chad repeated the process twice in the day, keeping himself too full to think too much about his current condition, then going back to sleep.
On Saturday, Chad noticed a slight jiggle within his nether regions. As he had suspected, Leif was right. His udders sagged lower, its teats pushing further out of his fur. It made him squeamish about moving, since the sensitive patch of skin kept moving against the rest of his body. He finished the trough two more times on that day, but it was more to keep himself from feeling, and therefore thinking about, his udders. He was anxious about Leif returning, but that wasn’t the case.
When Chad awoke Sunday, it was much like the other days. He woke up too early because he’d been sleeping the days away. In the relative darkness of the early morning, he ate another trough-worth of food and put himself back to sleep.
He jumped with a start when he heard Leif’s whistling. It took nearly a minute before Leif approached the cage-like entrance to Chad’s stall, slipping through the bars that were just wide enough to let a human through. “Good morning, Vixen! It’s time to see how you’re coming along, girl!”
Chad snorted at all this talk of him being a female. He was going to return back to being a male once this ordeal was over, and there was no way he’d re-identify himself from the actions of others.
“Aw, that’s no way to treat me. I heard that you’ve been quite the hungry lady, so, get up and let’s see how many teammates I’m gonna have to change.”
Chad complied, slowly lifting himself to a standing position so Leif could milk him. Instead, Leif seemed to be observing his udders.
“One...Two...Geez, Chad! I knew you had some high sex drive and I thought I might’ve had you beat, but you’re blowing me out of the water!” Chad turned around, confused. Leif continued. “As I said, sex drive affects production. Folks with higher drive produce more, and you’ve got four sets of teats down there! Not only that, but you’ve legitimately got milk already!”
Chad pulled away from Leif with even greater confusion. He didn’t like where this was going.
“When I told you about producing milk, that was just a scare tactic, man! Most reindeer don’t start producing until after they give birth, only the truly milky ones have a chance. I only gave you four days, and you’ve already got milk! And that’s on top of the four-times-normal teats! Your libido’s got to be legendary, dude. I’ll be right back.”
Leif left the stall, practically running. Chad was still reeling from Leif’s statements. He didn’t think he was that testosterone-filled. Was he? A metal clang broke his concentration as Leif returned with a bucket.
“Now, hold still and let me check your production.”
Chad flinched as two hands grasped around the sensitive flesh attached to his underbelly. He wanted to move away, but he wanted to deceive Leif more. He tensed his body as he waited for Leif to complete the job, moving from one row of teats to the next.
All the while, Leif continued to talk. “Man, it took you only four days. And so early in the cycle, too! Chad, did you know that reindeer take about 7 months to give birth? Just think, 7 months of growth of at least the rate we’re seeing. At least! Right now is when a doe is normally considered inactive, and it really kicks off in the days leading up to the birth.” He paused, moving between another pair of teats. “I bet you’re gonna grow a full-on udder. Like, push-your-legs-wide, touch-the-floor size. I bet it’s gonna need milking at least twice a day, maybe even three times! These teats are gonna grow into real sausages!”
He lifted the bucket, which had a few cups-worth of milk within. “You’re truly amazing. A real golden goose, but for reindeer milk. Normally, I can handle milking all my reindeer, but I may have to get a couple milk-machines designed for cows to handle production of your caliber. I doubt any one person will be able to fully milk you.” He paused. “Heck, you might be the perfect milker. Usually, a reindeer can run stop getting milked and they’ll dry up. With the size you’ll be getting, you’ll need to get milked, or else you’ll get an infection. Mastitis, it’s called. Happens when producing cattle can’t get the milk out for too long. It can be lethal if it sets in.”
Chad shuddered at the thought. There was no way he’d produce that much, right? So much that he’d die before he could let his udders dry up? Leif was the expert, but it sounded so unrealistic. Chad looked back to the bucket, which had a not-insignificant amount of milk in it. He had produced all that milk in just four days. It wasn’t gallons, but it did make sense that real production wouldn’t start until around the fawn’s birth.
Leif interrupted his thoughts. “You know, I was pretty set on calling you Vixen, but I think a better name at this rate is going to be something like Bessie, or Daisy. Something that emphasizes how much of a cow you’re going to be. I doubt you’re going to stay physically attractive enough to be a Vixen once you start looking more like a tall goat than a regular reindeer.”
Leif slipped back through the bars, carrying the bucket with him. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me. I have to see how you develop.”
Chad continued to stand where he was milked as Leif left the barn, whistling. He dreaded the coming months.