Happy Juice

by Jukebox

Tags: #cw:noncon #brainwashing #dom:male #drones #f/m #pov:bottom #sub:female #brainless #brainwash #brainwashed #hucow #intelligence_loss #lactation #milk #milking #mindless

Stephanie and Simone win a free vacation at a dairy farm and find out first hand what makes some cows so happy.

"...this doesn't look like a B&B, Simone." Stephanie stumbled out of the dusty beige Volvo, her legs stiff from the long drive into the countryside, and ran her fingers briskly through her short blonde hair before lacing her pale fingers together behind her head so that she could stretch her aching shoulders and back. She twisted from side to side, taking in the small farmhouse cottage next to the driveway and the three large barns that dotted the low, grassy hills around them. "Are you sure this is the right place?" she asked. The GPS had given out not long after the paved road, a victim of their journey into the Land That Signal Forgot, and they might have missed a turnoff hiding in the tall grass alongside the dirt track that brought them in.

Simone climbed out of the car into the summer heat as well, doing her own set of awkward stretches. "It's got to be," she said, thrusting her shoulders back and her chest forward. Not that there was much chest to thrust--Simone shared Stephanie's slender, athletic build, even if Stephanie had a good seven inches of height on her friend. "The vacation prize package came from HJF, LLC, and the sign we passed back there said 'Happy Juice Farms'. Maybe it's some kind of tourist farm thing, like in 'City Slickers'?"

Stephanie furrowed her brow in consternation. "They better not make me slop hogs, that's all I'm saying. I came here to relax, not do chores." She recognized the hint of genuine frustration seeping into her voice beneath the joking tones, but she couldn't quite seem to banish it. When Simone invited her on this 'free weekend for two' she'd won through work, Stephanie somehow assumed that her friend did a little checking to make sure that the offer was authentic and not some kind of scam. To find out that they'd driven four hours out into the middle of nowhere, and Simone didn't even have a brochure? It drove her a little bit nuts.

Stephanie's anger died almost immediately when the cottage door opened, revealing a tanned Caucasian man with curly blond hair and twinkling blue eyes, wearing a pair of overalls and a white t-shirt that looked like it was painted onto his muscular physique. "Well hello, ladies!" he called out in a husky baritone voice. "You must be the folks from the city that won the contest, right? My name's Hal. Welcome to Happy Juice Farms, where happy cows make happy juice!"

"Dibs," Simone muttered under her breath, combing her fingers rapidly through her long dark hair in an attempt to make it more presentable after the long drive. Then louder, she added, "That's right! I'm Simone Kessen, and this is my plus-one, Stephanie Tower! We, uh... we thought we'd be staying for the weekend. Is that not right?" If they were, Steph couldn't imagine where--the cottage looked like it had two or three bedrooms at most, and a farm this big had to need a lot of help. The men and women who lived here were probably stacked like cordwood in such a tiny house.

"You ladies can stay just as long as you want," Hal chuckled, nodding his head at the door behind him. "Come on in. I'll tell you a little bit about the place, and you can have a glass of Happy Juice's finest and rest your weary bones a spell. I know it's a long drive, and a little bit of a bone-rattler towards the end on top of it all. You probably want to stretch out on a comfy couch and--oh, no, please," he said quickly, waving his hand in a gesture of negation as Stephanie opened up the hatchback to pull out their bags. "I'll have Bill and Joe get those in a little while. You're our guests, you don't have to drag your own suitcases inside."

Stephanie started to ask who Bill and Joe were, but the question answered itself when they walked into the cozy living room and saw two men hard at work scrubbing and peeling potatoes on the other side of a low interior wall. One had close-cropped dark hair, the other a mop of brown curls tucked under a baseball cap, but both possessed the same taut, brawny bodies as Hal. Suddenly Stephanie's weekend was looking up.

"Hi ladies!" one of the men said, looking up from his work to wave with a potato peeler in one hand. "Hope you enjoy your stay! We'd love to talk more, but we're making a little lunch for everyone and if we stopped to chat, we'd never get it done in time!" He looked back down at his spuds, quickly and deftly stripping the skin from each one before dropping it into a huge pot of water. Stephanie felt her stomach rumbling a little. They'd gotten breakfast and snacks at the start of the trip, but she'd never been very good at making her food last and there hadn't been many places to stop. Whatever lunch was going to be besides mashed potatoes, she hoped it was coming soon.

As if reading her mind, Hal stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "They won't be done for a little while yet," he said companionably, "but you know what always fills a body up right? A little happy juice!" He took out a big pitcher of creamy white milk and filled two glasses with it. "This is the good stuff, ladies. Plenty of protein, sweet and delicious... I'm not gonna lie, we're all pretty proud of what we make around here and we're not shy about sharing it. I don't know if you're big milk drinkers--"

Simone giggled nervously. "I like a White Russian every once in a while, does that count?" Stephanie rolled her blue-gray eyes just a little. Not that she wasn't salivating over the hunks around here herself, but her friend always did have a bad habit of trying a bit too hard with guys. It had led her into plenty of crash-and-burn blind dates and more than a few regrettable hookups over the years, and by now Simone's disastrous taste in men had become something of a running joke between them. As soon as the brunette felt the first flutterings of love (or lust), she started acting like everything her new crush did was something she'd always wanted to try.

Like milk, apparently. "We don't have any booze out on the farm," Hal said, bringing the two ice-cold glasses back out into the living room, "but I don't think you'll miss it none. Our happy juice goes down smoother than any Kentucky bourbon, and you can drink a whole heck of a lot more of it and still feel great." He handed one to Stephanie and another to Simone, and looked at them with an expectant smile on his face. It felt a little too much like being in a commercial for Stephanie's tastes, but she duly took a small swig of the cool, creamy drink.

She had to admit, as milk went, it was pretty nice. It tasted sweeter than she was used to, and thicker too--it was more like drinking heavy cream, or a milkshake that had been sitting in the fridge too long and had liquefied. She couldn't imagine chugging a whole glass of the stuff down, especially not one the size Hal had given her, but it wasn't half bad, either. Stephanie was unsurprised to notice that Simone took a much longer gulp, and smiled broadly once she swallowed. "Wow, that's nice!" she chirped, with a determined cheer in her voice that only Stephanie had known her long enough to recognize as forced. "And you say it all comes straight from your farm?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am!" Hal exclaimed cheerfully, giving the two of them a bright, beaming smile. "We got about fifty head out there in the barns, and they each give about two gallons a day. That's enough to make a lot of men happy with our happy juice. Heck, it's what we all drink with every meal, right, Joe?"

The man with the short dark hair who was scrubbing potatoes nodded. "Nothing like a little happy milk from happy cows to make a man nice and strong and...." He trailed off abruptly, blushing bright red beneath his well-trimmed beard. Stephanie had a pretty good idea of what he was about to say, though. Suddenly the room seemed a little warm, and she took another swig of milk to cool off. If this was what was responsible for giving the guys all those muscles, she wouldn't mind putting it in the vending machines at work.

Simone was already halfway through her first glass, guzzling down long gulps with a satisfied smack of her lips after every drink that made her sound like she was auditioning for a Dairy Council ad. "That really is good!" she said. "And so sweet, too! Do you feed your cows something special to get it to taste like that?" Stephanie knew her friend had no more interest in animal husbandry than she did--Simone couldn't even take care of a pet rock, let alone a hard of fifty cattle. But of course if Hal was into it, the dark-haired woman would no doubt pretend to be just as excited about every detail.

And Hal seemed to be eating her interest up with a spoon. "Oh, we find cows that are just naturally sweet," he said, giving Simone a pat on the shoulder as she took another long drink of milk. "And we make sure they stay nice and happy, too. Nothing makes for happy juice like a nice happy cow!" Simone tipped the glass all the way back theatrically, letting the last few droplets of cream dribble into her mouth. Hal laughed. "Looks like someone's pretty happy already, huh?"

Stephanie frowned. She wasn't about to pretend that she knew much more about farming than her friend--her commitment to agriculture started with baby animals at the working farm that the local zoo ran every year and stopped with that Paris Hilton series she watched in junior high. But weren't cows supposed to be grazing during the day? The happy ones, at least. She remembered some activist in college handing her a pamphlet with all sorts of awful pictures of cows at big factory farms, kept penned up all day and pumped full of special hormones to increase milk production. 'Imagine how you'd feel stuck in a stall all day with those things on your tits!' he'd shouted at her as she walked rapidly away.

Wasn't that supposed to be the big thing about a family farm? They let the cows roam around and feed on grass, letting them exercise and enjoy the fresh air? Stephanie looked down at her glass, but her mind was on the barns in the middle distance. They looked pretty big, but three barns for fifty cows didn't seem like a lot of room. They couldn't be all that happy, not unless they were getting Swedish massages and watching in-stall entertainment or something. Whatever it was cows liked to watch.

Hal refilled Simone's glass, but Stephanie barely noticed. She was too busy staring at her own milk, wondering what really made it so smooth and sweet and creamy. Maybe they evaporated off some of the water, like the cans of condensed milk she used to make pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving? Or maybe it was drugs in the feed like that activist creep was talking about back in college. Maybe they were taking cow steroids to make them lactate better or something. Stephanie had a sudden, incongruous mental image of a cow being stripped of its gold medals and had to choke back a surprised giggle. She giggled again, unable to hold it back a second time.

The conversation went on around her, growing increasingly distant and unimportant as Stephanie lost herself in thought. She noticed Simone guzzling milk out of the corner of her eye, greedily tipping the glass back until tiny rivulets of creamy white fluid trickled down her cheeks and onto her chest. Hal was helping, holding her chin with one hand and the cup with the other so that the brunette could rest her arms and concentrate on swallowing. It was... it was odd, was what it was. Simone didn't look like she was trying to impress the handsome farmhand. She looked almost limp.

Stephanie tried to turn to get a closer look, but her muscles didn't seem to want to work anymore. Her head drooped forward, looking down at her glass with a vacant fascination that she didn't quite feel. Her shoulders slumped, and she realized slowly that she hadn't spoken or moved in several minutes. She couldn't. Even the effort of keeping her fluttering eyelids open felt too much like effort for her now, and her world went warm and red for longer and longer stretches as she found herself trying to stare through closed eyes.

She felt Hal's hand on her shoulder. "You're not quite as happy as your friend," he said. "Not yet. But don't worry, you'll get there soon enough." Stephanie heard the sound of glass breaking at her feet, and felt cool liquid splash onto her bare legs. That was the last thing she remembered for a while.

*    *    *    *    *

Consciousness returned slowly, and with great effort. Stephanie heard long, lowing moos all around her, and she finally fluttered her eyelids open to see a wide, spartan room with a long central hallway running down its entire length. On the far wall were a series of stalls, more than Stephanie's groggy mind could count, and in each one....

There was a woman. A woman resting on a low couch that supported her belly and left her arms and legs free, a couch that stopped just short of her... her... Stephanie blinked, not quite believing the evidence of her glassy eyes. The women in each stall had the most enormous pair of tits that the petite blonde had ever seen in her entire life, porn included. They were L cups, maybe even larger, dangling straight down like a cow's udders with a pair of agricultural-grade pumps harnessed to them. The pumps chugged constantly, feeding into a series of hoses that went up from each stall into a series of tanks on the upper level.

Stephanie had a slow, dawning awareness of heaviness and pressure in her chest. She tried to look down, but something was holding her head in position.

She had a pretty good idea what it was. Every woman's head was strapped into a helmet that hung from the ceiling, supported by a chinstrap that kept them looking straight ahead. Most of them didn't even bother glancing left or right, up or down; they simply stared, their eyes glazed and vacant, a docile expression of complacency on their face. All except one, the woman directly across from Stephanie. She at least looked like she was aware of what was happening to her, albeit in a loose and perplexed fashion that suggested she was every bit as groggy and confused as Stephanie was. The other woman struggled experimentally, but a series of leather straps kept her bound to the couch and metal cuffs locked her wrists and ankles to the barn floor. She was--

Oh god. She was Simone.

Once Stephanie saw it, she couldn't imagine how she'd ever failed to recognize her friend. The other woman's tits had somehow tripled in size, transforming over the course of their lapse in consciousness into cantaloupe-sized udders that hung low and heavy from her petite frame, but it was still the Simone she knew. There were other, minor differences--a bar code tattooed on Simone's left breast, and an identical one on her ass--but the face was still the same, even if it did have a blank, bewildered expression that terrified Stephanie. "Wha--what's happening, Steph?" she called out, her voice echoing in the open barn. "What happened to you?"

"To me?" Stephanie called back. "What happened to you? They, they did this... this thing! You, oh god, Simone, you've got...." She couldn't make herself put it into words. If she put it into words, then she had to admit that it was really happening, and Stephanie really wasn't sure she could handle that right now. The only way she was dealing with her own situation was by trying very hard to pretend it didn't exist--she could feel the full, heavy weight of her own chest every time she tried to shift position, but she couldn't see it and as long as she could see it she could imagine that she was still the woman she'd been when she passed out. But if she had to describe it to Simone, she knew she wouldn't be able to hide the truth from herself anymore.

As if from underwater, she heard Simone crying out, "They can't be real, Steph! They, they must have done something, drugged us and implanted... oh fuck, I don't know, but they can't be real! We can get out of here, we can have them fixed." Her voice kept going up in pitch and volume, becoming a terrified shriek. "They can't be fucking real!"

"Of course they're real, sweetie," Hal said mildly, walking into view between them. He still had on his tight white shirt, but his overalls were gone. There was nothing under them. "You drank the happy juice, after all. For men, it acts as a kind of all-over body developer--muscles, penis size, sperm production, all that good stuff--but for women, well... it makes you into a good producer. A happy cow making happy cow juice. You both had a nice big dose while you were out, and your bodies responded just like they were supposed to."

Stephanie asked, "W-will it wear off?" Her voice was shaky, hoarse, meek and terrified at the same time. She'd never heard herself sound like that before.

Hal chuckled. "Well, it would, but... as it happens, we have a delivery contract with the CEO of your company. He gets a daily shipment of Happy Juice Milk straight from the farm, and instead of paying for it he makes sure that we can grow the business. The two of you are going to be sticking around a while. But don't worry! I told you, we make sure our cows stay nice and happy. Let's get you all settled in now, okay?" He walked over to Simone's stall and pressed a button on the metal grating in front of the milking couch, then crossed to Stephanie's stall and did the same.

Instantly, Stephanie heard a smooth, synthetic voice in her ears. 'Happy Cow Protocol Engaged,' it said, sounding almost feminine but not quite female. 'Brain Scan Commencing.' The blonde woman felt a strange itch inside her head, sweeping from just behind her eyes to the base of her neck in a matter of moments before stopping. 'Brain Scan Complete,' the voice said. 'Brain Waves Evaluated. Counterharmonics Commencing.' Stephanie tried to struggle, recognizing the implicit threat even if she didn't understand exactly what it was about to do. But the restraints held fast.

She saw it happening to Simone before she felt it. An apparatus unfolded from the rear of the milking stall, a series of powerful mechanical pistons with a pair of thick dildos at the end. They squirted a flood of clear lubricant onto Simone's backside, a blast of slick goo that Stephanie felt all over her own genitals, before sliding forward to press against the brunette's ass and pussy. Almost simultaneously, Stephanie felt silicone shafts pushing into the entrance to her own cunt, and the tender rosebud of her anus.

'Counterharmonics Prepared. Deep Fucking Commencing.' Stephanie heard herself grunt in astonished pleasure as the twin shafts pushed into her, each one thrusting and buzzing at a pace that completely overwhelmed her with sensation. She couldn't even pretend it didn't feel better than any sex she'd ever experienced before--the devices constantly adjusted their speed and trajectory, finding exactly the right pace and angle to fuck her into nearly insensate bliss. Stephanie's eyes rolled back in her head as the first orgasm flashed through her like lightning from a clear sky.

She could see the effect it was having on Simone. The terror melted away from her friend's face in mere instants, leaving behind a docile complacency that looked ominously similar to the women on either side of her. "o fuck, Steph," the brunette whimpered, struggling desperately to regain her composure in the face of the sensory onslaught that Stephanie knew all too well. "it, it feels so fucking good!" The other woman's eyelids fluttered, only the whites showing for long stretches.

"W-we have to fight it, Simone," Steph muttered, unsure of whether her voice was even carrying across the center aisle. "We have to, we... we...." She trailed off into another groan, the pleasure fuzzing out her thoughts like static breaking up a radio signal as she came again. The machine varied the speed and intensity of its thrusts and thrums constantly, never letting her become accustomed to the sensation, never letting it become uncomfortable or painful. It kept her lubed up, ensuring that the thick shafts always slid in and out with the perfect amount of friction to reduce her mind to a continuous throb of pure ecstasy. "F-fight it, Simone, fimmmmmph!"

A feeding tube extended from the helmet into Stephanie's mouth, pumping more of the thick milk onto her tongue. She tried to splutter it out, but the constant fucking distracted her mind into confused, drowsy pleasure and made the sweet, creamy taste virtually irresistible. Before she realized what she was doing, Stephanie found herself suckling from the nipple at the end of the hose. Her eyelids drooped, the urge to drink almost primal to her lust-fogged brain. She knew what it would do to her--what it was doing, what it had already done--but it was simply too hard to think about at the moment.

But if Stephanie gave in, she'd wind up... oh fuck, she'd wind up like Simone. Her friend's eyes had closed completely now, and she suckled at the tube in her mouth with every sign of placid enjoyment. Her tits seemed to be somehow getting even bigger, swelling from cantaloupes to watermelons right in front of Stephanie's disbelieving gaze. What little movement the other woman was still capable of, she used to grind back against the fucking machine like a needy bitch in heat. And the noise... Simone was mooing around the nipple. Not moaning, not grunting--she was clearly, unmistakably making the sound of a cow experiencing the sweet release of giving up its milk.

It gave Stephanie a burst of extra determination... but there was nothing to do with it. She couldn't move, she couldn't struggle, she couldn't stop the twin silicone cocks between her legs from pounding her into insensate bliss. Hal watched them both, his hand lightly stroking up and down his shaft, and Stephanie had no doubt that the two of them would be fringe benefits once the helmets and the drugged milk reduced their minds to mush. She knew that wouldn't be too much longer.

'Deleting Resistance,' Stephanie heard the synthetic voice say, inscribing its truths into her brain as she felt her willpower collapse into sweet, sleepy joy. 'Establishing Counterharmonics to Eliminate Cognition. Language and Problem Solving Skills Erased. Pleasure Quotient Reaching One Hundred Percent. This Cow Is Now a Happy Cow. This Cow Is Now a Happy Cow. This Cow Is Now a Happy Cow...." The mantra pounded into her mind, soothing Stephanie into blank, blissful obedience until she felt milk trickling down her smiling chin. She couldn't stop herself from sinking into mindless surrender. It felt too good to ever stop now. All she wanted was to feel the final, culminating ecstasy that the helmet had prepared her for and give herself away to it forever.

"mmmmoooooOOOOO!" the happy cow lowed, another climax washing her mind away completely as the milk finally began to flow from her heavy tits.


(If you enjoyed this story and want to see more like it, please think about heading to http://patreon.com/Jukebox and becoming one of my patrons. For less than $5 a month, you can make sure that every single update contains a Jukebox story! Thank you in advance for your support.)


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