Milk Sow Ch. 04

Chapter 4: The Training

Ginny groaned softly, feeling the tug at her neck and following without a choice. Sam's thick meaty arm pulled her forward, compelling her to make hurried little steps to keep up. They left by a second door, the one Matt and Dillon had appeared from. She felt the coldness of the tiled floor seeping through her bare feet. She was not at all sure about what she had done, but she understood it was too late to back out now. Sam led Ginny over to a small room with a door having a large barred window. He hooked the clip on the end of a lead that hung from the bars by the door into her D ring and tethered her to the door. The collar forced Ginny just to stare, wide eyed straight in front of her. There was a look of shock in her eyes and Ginny could feel a heat radiating out from between her thighs. Her lack of any control over what was happening to her was coursing a fever pitch of arousal through her veins, along with the thumping pump of her fear. Sam was saying something to Matt and turned and left giving Ginny a pat on her ass by way of farewell. He had handed her over and his interest in her was over now too.

Matt pulled out a set of keys. "I am going to be your trainer. From now on and for the rest of this week you will answer to the name of ginnysow. You are no longer Ginny, the woman who walked in here of her own choice. She has voluntarily relinquished the status she had, no longer an equal with the dignity and rights of an adult woman. You are just a sow now, and require a name that everyone can recognise you for what you have agreed to become. Besides, it is an important part of your training that whenever you here your name you associate it with the word sow, until Ginny and sow will seem to you inseparable. No matter the context, your mind will come to adjust and voicelessly add the word sow whenever you hear your name. This is the purpose of your training, not just to be trained to learn tricks, but to undergo a deep and thorough change in your attitude and the way you think about yourself."

"But.... But I thought I was only here to prepare for the demo." Ginny's voice squeaked timidly, but she was sure Matt had misunderstood. She had to explain, but he held up his hand palm towards her as a brake on what she was about to say.

"What does it matter, ginnysow, what you thought? I am your trainer, and I am explaining to you how it is going to be."

Matt was not gloating as he spoke to her. There was a kind of brutal tenderness in his voice. Ginny squeezed her thighs together to stop herself from peeing right in front of him as she contemplated how powerless she was to prevent herself undergoing such far reaching changes. She wondered whether it was possible in just a week, and she was terrified that it might be. For the first time she seemed to fully appreciate what it meant to be a sow. These men could do what they wished with her, and the changes they would force to be made in her could be irreversible and even against her will, but nevertheless these changes would happen if they wished it. Matt stood watching her, a smile flitting across his lips.

"I see ginnysow is beginning to understand now."

There it was again. Ginny the sow, and the memory of herself trapped upon Ben's milking machine forced its way back into her mind. Matt clattered the key in the lock and swung the door open, then unhooked her and led her inside the room. There was a low horizontal bar at midriff height in the middle, like a hitching post, Matt swung the lead over the bar and pulled it tight so Ginny's body was forced to bend over the bar. There was a post a couple of feet away with a large iron ring set into it. Matt was securing the other end of her lead through the ring and knotting it. Ginny's face was now staring straight at the iron ring, the top of her torso horizontal. She heard Matt's voice boom at her from behind her upturned and exposed sex. "Ginnysow! Legs apart!!" and a boot lightly kicked at her ankles.

"'K," she gasped, opening her legs, feeling her sex peek out from between her sleek thighs. Ginny's breasts swayed heavily beneath her. She licked her lips nervously, still getting used to hearing her name chained up together with the word 'sow.' Matt's words rattled in her head and already they were having an effect upon her. There was a menacing quality to hearing her adopted name repeated over and again, and the more she resisted the implication, the more she undermined her own sense of self.

She felt the hands of her trainer upon her body, on her back, her rump, feeling, squeezing, judging her quality. She took deep, even breaths, noting how clinical his touch was, measured not hurtful at all. She felt his fingers glide along her spine to the sloping groove that contoured round her ass and down to her open waiting sex.

The broad stretch of Matt's hand rubbed against her sex, the whole of her mound was encompassed in its strong span. His fingers pulled on her outer lips before spreading her open to judge her offering. Ginny's arousal leaped at this dispassionate handling of her. She sucked in air in a loud gasp that reverberated around the room. She blinked rapidly, feeling herself being pulled opened. Her clitoris buzzed uncontrollably as she contemplated being tethered here, some sexual animal on display, available for use. No opinion, no purpose, no respect, just a dumb animal to be cared for by its betters and to be used by them.

The word ginnysow revolved around in her head over and again. She felt the fingers of her trainer holding her open with one hand as he probed her inner lips and hole with the fingers of his free hand. Funny, but somehow bent over like this and exposed, she could no longer think of it as her sex. Maybe it was the indifferent way her trainer was treating those most private places, the fact he assumed ownership of them, the very act of inspecting them convincing her they were no longer ever to be her private places. He was evaluating her, judging her quality, and her value no longer was in her abilities, her intellect. She was to be judged by how eagerly her slit responded, how wet she became, how well she could entice clients to enter her. Her value as an animal on this farm would lie in the amount of milk she would produce, but until then her sole value lay in how sensitive and available she would make herself. There was a lack of intimacy in the way Matt probed her, judging her responses, bringing her into heat shamelessly. His finger glided over the puckered fleshy lips, he handled her expertly, the tip of his finger brushing against her engorged clit.

"Oh!" Ginny cried, feeling the pleasurable jolt. She was squirming under his touch, her unrestrained breasts swung heavily in the air. She felt their pull weighing down on her. Soon she would not be able to think of them as anything more than her udders.

"Oh yes, that's right. You like this don't you. It feels so good, doesn't it. I can give you so much pleasure acquainting my finger with this little button of yours. Except it isn't yours any more, is it. It belongs to me now." Matt tweaked her clit mercilessly and Ginny could do nothing but take it. His words tormented her. Even if her hands were not tied behind her back, and this collar forcing her to look straight ahead at this iron ring that reminded her of her very open hole, she belonged to this man for the next few days and she could not deny his use of her body.

Matt laughed as he heard her gulp in response to his words. This was just routine for him, breaking her psychologically to his will.

"You are just farm property now, so you'd better get used to this treatment, because there is no part of this body we don't own."

Matt's words smacked against her and made her smart just as much as if he had slammed his hand across her cheek. Ginny did not dare to contradict or protest, instead she remained quiet, accepting of her new role. As quickly as he had spread her open Matt let go of her sex. She felt his hand glide across her flat stomach, reaching up beneath her for her breasts. Tethered as she was, she could not turn but was forced to patiently wait until his hard gripping fingers encompassed her udders. She felt the heat from his fingers seep into her soft malleable flesh that he pulled and squeezed. He seemed to be weighing them, gauging how much capacity that could store. Ginny breathed softly, feeling his hand explore her nipples. She wondered how many sows he had graded that day, and how she compared with them. Suddenly she squealed as he twisted her nipples between his fingers, as if milking her. Then they were gone and Ginny felt the cool air brushing against her sore flesh.

"Your udders are a trifle small. We shall have to enlarge them before the week's end." Matt had his back to her as he spoke, moving across to a table to make notes.

Ginny flushed again, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment. He had referred to her breasts as udders. She was learning a new vocabulary with which to describe herself; and Matt had been perfectly right, even though she told herself these words meant nothing, they still managed to seep into her sense of self, impregnating the way she thought about herself. It seemed to come so easily, and thinking of herself in these new terms was having a powerful affect upon her. She could feel a dampness spreading elsewhere too, around her hole, and as her mind again referred to her own sex as her hole she felt a slow trickle of her juices make its ticklish way across to the top of her thigh.

"Notwithstanding that, I think by the end of this week you are going to turn out a grade A sow," Matt declared, slapping her ass cheek as if to reinforce his point. Matt walked over to a small desk inside which he found a large stamp and a blue inkpad. He pressed the stamp into the pad until it was fully inked up and then approached her. Ginny felt her pulse quicken. If she had been able to, she would have high tailed it out of there. But as it was, she was held firmly in position to receive the stamp that would confirm her status as a sow. This stamp would give those how saw it an authority over her, allow them to use her as any common sow.

The fact that it was temporary only somehow made it worse: for what rights could she ever assume after relinquishing those rights here and now and before those people for whom she had already agreed to be their sow? She would never be able to hide that from herself. Her secret fantasy was about to be written indelibly in large letters of blue ink on her rump, and whether she wanted to or not, she could be forced into the role of a sow by anyone who came across this mark as long as it remained. Perhaps even long afterwards there would still be a blue round ghost image, and perhaps if Ben, or anyone else who knew her secret, should lift her skirt and show her mark to any stranger, then this stranger would learn her secret too; and although she would protest, although she would know nothing about this stranger, yet she would automatically be forced to accept his authority over her and afford him the right to treat her as a sow. Perhaps she would never be entirely free, always at the mercy of those who would encounter this mark.

Ginny watched Matt walk purposely towards her. He was taking his time, walking slowly, watching her. He understood exactly what was running through her mind, and he wanted her to have plenty of time to contemplate her inability to prevent him; plenty of time to reflect on how she had secretly wanted this and to experience the mounting fear building up inside her as Matt approached. The only way she could quell the rising tension that tightened the strings within her was to relinquish her old self, to accept her powerlessness and embrace the inevitable. Ginny was taking the first steps along a path whereby she would become accustomed to others controlling what would happen to her, treating that as normal, accepting their control and submitting to their desires. She had no idea at the time of how deep and subtle these changes being wrought in her were to be.

"This ink doesn't come off, you know, no matter how hard you may scrub. It will fade over time very slowly, but even months after leaving this place people will still be able to discern your mark and know you were once a sow temporarily registered at a dairy farm." He grinned at her as he watched the hot flush sweep across her face and knew he had hit home on her thoughts. He understood how important the part of humiliation was in the ritual of forcing a woman into accepting herself as a sow, combined with her sure knowledge that in spite of the humiliation, a very potent part of her desired this conversion too. Matt was very skilled at confronting his charges with their own desires, until gradually their resistance was worn down by them. He knew that over the coming days Ginny would acquire an acceptance of her own desires, that she had set in train a sequence of events she no longer had control over and was now forced to follow her training. With this understanding would follow her total capitulation even at the cost of her self-respect, in fact precisely because it would cost her, her self-respect. They were embarked upon the necessary and crucial first steps in the process of her conversion.

Ginny felt him standing right behind her. Her flesh crept, she tried to withdraw from him. A gasp issued from her lips as she felt his hand gently caress the spot where he was about to place the stamp. His fingers were tender and Ginny's breaths came in short staccato gasps as she waited for the inevitable pressure she was about to feel as the stamp was pushed firmly and indelibly into her flesh. She felt his lips brush against her ass cheek as he kissed her.

"This spot right here, ginnysow," his finger tracing out a round circle, "will never be entirely human again. You will always carry the imprint of your mark. No matter how well dressed you may be, or among the greatest of company, you will always know this spot right here marks you apart. You will always be conscious of this spot and what you've agreed to today. Each morning in the bathroom mirror, as you stand naked before it, your eyes will be constantly drawn back to this spot -- checking whether the mark is still visible. Your eyes will pick it out, no matter how faded, you will always see your mark and remember your willingness to betray your human self and acknowledge your desire to be used as a sow. This spot here, where your skin is smooth and fleshy, where your lovers will wish to dig in their fingers, this spot will always prey on your mind; you will constantly be aware of this ghostly blue pattern which betrays you.

Maybe in time the ink will fade enough for people not to discern what it is, but not you; you will know. For you this mark will always broadcast your willingness to submit to others. Whether you are in a bar, a chance meeting in the mall or at work, no matter where, you will know your mark is ready to betray you. As you feel your heart beat faster in the flirtatious presence of some stranger, your mind will be tempted, one swift movement of your arm, brushing accidentally against the material of your skirt, gathering it to one side riding up -- a glimpse of your soft flesh curving round into the elasticated line of your panty; and there it will be revealed to him in a flashing moment. One reckless act and in a wordless moment you will be undone. You will have revealed this mark to him, indicated to him your complicit agreement to accede in any way to him. Not consenting adults, but a sow trained and ready for him, to be dragged into the nearby toilet and stripped and fucked and left naked in the gutter.

You have agreed to wear this mark before others in the knowledge that it depicts your unspoken desire to be treated as a common sow. Never again will you feel entirely comfortable. Even surrounded by your closest of friends your mind will forever question how they might treat you if they ever got to see what is about to be written here across your flesh."

His finger pressed into the soft yielding spot on her ass. "Are you ready?" Ginny could only grunt in response. The heady aroma of her arousal in Matt's nostrils was enough for him to know how ready she was. He could see the glistening trail down the backs of her thighs from her slippery lips. He took the stamp and pressed it hard into her rump, she could feel the ink leaking into her flesh, unable to prevent her skin's greedy acceptance as the dye soaked through layer upon layer, sinking deeper and deeper into her. Each layer slowly absorbing the ink which was polluting her with her insane desire.

Yet as the marker was withdrawn and her new ink spot dried with exposure to the cool air, Ginny actually felt relief. It was done. She had felt the temptation to shout out to Matt to stop, that she had changed her mind. She knew it would have made no difference, but at least she could have made a token resistance. Now, though, she was marked, and the knowledge that she would carry the mark regardless, had removed her from any further battles against feelings she ought to resist. She knew now, and suddenly it seemed so much easier to accept that she would no longer ever enjoy the status of being Matt's equal. She had become one with the herd. Her stomach filled with butterflies and she pulled at her wrists, more to feel the reassurance of her helplessness rather than an attempt to escape.

"Good girl, ginnysow" Matt said, coming round to face her and stroking her hair. Of all the things Matt could have said, Ginny had not expected this. She had imagined he would gloat over her, now he had assumed absolute authority over her. Yet he had responded with kindness and encouragement and she felt huge relief that it was ok.

Ginny was pulled up into a standing position facing Matt. She was still reeling from her inspection. The intensity of her feelings soared between extremes. She wanted more than anything to escape, and yet the knowledge that she could not drove a fear and a passion inside her. She hoped the dampness leaking from her sex would not be too noticeable. Yet even that she was powerless to do anything about. The humiliation of

seeing in Matt's eyes his recognition of just how horny she had made herself during his inspection, desiring to be treated as one of his sows just made matters worse. Her eyes kept staring straight in front by the leather noose that gripped her neck, as Matt started to circle round her.

"Good girl. Good girl." He cooed as he continued to walk around and feel her skin and pay attention to every detail of her body. "It is time now for your first shot. You will have a shot each morning you are here. It is full of prolactin, a hormone that will stimulate the growth of these udders and promote milk production. In your feed you will also receive supplements that will encourage your nipples and milk ducts to expand."

With this he cupped her tits and bounced them in his hands. Ginny just stared up at him, feeling the gyrating weight pulling at her chest.

"In here," he said as he squashed the flesh of her tits, "are milk producing lactocyte cells, and we are going to be encouraging them to develop and grow this week, by the chemicals we shall be pumping into them. This will cause you some discomfort, as you feel them stretching and pulling inside your chest. You will find you are unable to escape this discomfort, but that is of no consequence. As a sow, your comfort is not important. You will learn to be pleased to have your body altered to achieve your purpose, the one we have decided for you."

As if in response to his words, Ginny imagined she could already feel her tits expanding in his playful hands. She imagined the slow inevitable transformations they were about to start forcing inside them, turning her slowly from a woman into a milk sow.