“MOOOOooooo…” you cry in agony. You want to call for help. But who can help you? Your Slaves.
“Stheee….Mrrrrr….Phi… mooooo…. BIL… MOOOOOOOO.” You can’t get the words out. The pain, the pressure, the agony of it all. It’s too much. Your brain just keeps interjecting bovine bellows into your attempts at human speech.
But your slaves are used to this. They’ve been with you your entire life. They’ve seen you like this before. Every day.
Steel walks over and kneels down.
“BathwooOOOOOOO.” You manage to get out. He understands, and calls the other slaves over.
Their strong arms pick up your large body and they begin walking towards the bathroom.
You’re panting with your tongue hanging out, and you try and close your mouth but your swollen tongue won’t fit fully inside of your teeth, so your thick tongue is forced to continue hanging slightly out of your mouth. You begin to drool, and can do nothing to stop it. As they carry you, You try and reach forward with one of your arms and try to grab onto one of your teats. Maybe if you can just grab one of them and squeeze it a little bit, you could get some relief. You try to reach but… “MROOOOO!?!?” You have NO ARMS. You look in panic, and realize where your arms once were, there is now nothing. No fingers. No arms. Nothing. Just a smaller set of shoulders that make it look like it’s natural. Like you weren’t even born with arms in the first place.
The slaves enter the bathroom with you. In the mirror you see 4 tall Minotaur-like men. The picture of anthropomorphic masculinity. In their arms they hold a large cow girl. Her body sagging heavily. Her eyes filled with desperation. Her arms missing like they were never there. And between her legs you see her large, veiny, full udder, spreading her legs wider than it looks like she should be able to spread them. You see yourself.
You’re still wearing the glasses. You think back. With the decrease in pressure, you begin talking to Steel. It’s difficult, but between moos and slurred words, you manage to ask “Stheeeeel, how wong hath MOOOOO I been like thith?” He tells you that you were born like this, and he and the others have been your slaves your entire life.
That doesn’t seem right. You do have the faintest bit of memories of this life. But you still remember your old life. Your old name, your old job, your old family. Could it be that the goggles have a different effect on the owner? You don’t have time to ponder that before you can feel your udder balloon out even more than you think possible.
You have an idea. You look right into your own suffering filled eyes. Eyes that are begging for release. Eyes that close, briefly, as your udder continues to fill. As you’re forced to bear the weight of your now 60 pound udder, with no arms to help hold up your udder and lessen the weight, you imagine a bull. Like Steel. A copy of Steel. Tall, manly. Not a slave. You don’t have the focus to think of more. You just picture a copy of Steel in your mind where that cow girl is.