Chapter 2: Cow College

“Not a cow…!”

Belinda screamed out the words the moment she came to, before she even had a chance to understand where she was or to try figuring out how long she’d been unconscious. Her dreams, what little of them that she remembered, anyway, had been full of cruel laughter and the same taunts from so many women.

There always seemed to be more of them. More women with more hands to squeeze, and louder laughter to dismiss everything she said or thought. Together, they’d spent the whole time she was unconscious mocking her for the very idea that she could possibly be a human.

Whatever drugs had sent her spiraling down into unconsciousness left behind a wicked hangover. After her sudden outburst, Belinda could barely concentrate enough for a follow-up even if she’d had one prepared. Her vision was swimming, and her head felt heavy and melted down like the pile of robots she’d dealt with before rushing home. Fearful of looking into something that might make it impossible to look away, she clamped her eyes shut and whimpered as she tried shaking her head to clear away the heavy fog that permeated her everything.

Still can’t… flame… Nnn… Feels like I haven’t slept but I know I was dreaming… what was on that ra—

“Nnghaaaa…!”

Belinda cried out as she felt the sharp pinch of a needle pushing into the soft, tender flesh of her breast. Her whole body still felt hypersensitive, and she was so acutely aware of the way the pain blossomed from that small singular point. When something burning, warm and hot, started to force its way inside of her that ache made her scream’s intensity double.

“Oh, is that uncomfortable?” A mocking woman’s voice rang through Belinda’s ears. It wasn’t the sound of the women she’d heard before. This was more wryly amused than taunting, sounding more sophisticated than brutish. “I suppose that I knew it would be, but I wasn’t particularly worried about that. We need to get that silly idea out of your head now, the sooner the better. You are a cow, Bonfyre… Or at least… You will be. Very soon.”

Trapped in place, her arms were bound above her, but it felt much different than it had in her apartment. Instead of being together at the wrist, they were chained above her. She could move her arms, but not to pull them down. She was on her knees, but lifted up on a padded bench to be how tall she would have been if she were standing.

I’m naked… They stripped my uniform away, and now they’re injecting me with… something… right into my breasts…?! Belinda’s mind raced slowly, still struggling through the sticky molasses-thick coating the drugs left behind in her brain. They can’t make me a cow…!

Another needle poked into her other breast, but this time Belinda managed to suck in a sharp hiss instead of yowling out brazenly. Restraining the pain wasn’t a simple task, and Belinda couldn’t keep her body from shuddering as she bit her lip nearly hard enough to bleed. Her eyes quivered, but she stayed as defiant as anyone could while so helplessly bound.

“What admirable restraint! It won’t mean anything once we’re done, but it’ll make the end result more satisfying.” Drugs pumped into Belinda’s breasts, and soft, feminine hands stroked along their curves. The heroine whimpered and shook, the hot, burning feeling made even worse with more stimulation, but she still held back another loud cry. She needed to hold onto her self for as long as she could.

Tinder… Tinder and Flint, they… They can find me… They can free me… I just need… Just need to hold on… Just need to fight it… To fight her, to fight whatever’s inside of me…!

Her eyes fluttered open, and she finally caught sight of the woman in front of her. She had short, neon-green hair and sunshine-yellow eyes. She wore a fancy lab coat, embroidered with gold in a way that looked ridiculously ostentatious. This was made all the more so by the fact that she seemed to be wearing little underneath—only lingerie.

A deep red garter belt with matching panties and stockings hardly seemed appropriate scientific attire, nor did the high heels, or the half-cup bra that was partially hidden from view by the tablet she held in her hands.

So much heat poured through Belinda’s body, and the worst part was that it wasn’t hurting anymore. She could still feel the needles inside of her, but the burning sensation had subtly changed, becoming more melty and warm than outright painful. If she let herself, Belinda could have sighed and almost started to enjoy it.

But she knew what they wanted to do to her. She knew what would happen if she gave in. She didn’t feel any more solid or less hazy for fighting it, but she still felt like herself.

Don’t give in… Don’t give up… Fight… Resist… Hold on… No matter how it feels…!

“I’m truly impressed.” The woman faintly shrugged, reaching out to faintly flick at one of Belinda’s exposed, stiff pink nipples. She tried not to react, but with the heat flowing through her body she needed to groan as her eyes lidded further. “It doesn’t particularly matter, and it won’t stop us from carrying out your transformation? But for what it’s worth?”

The woman leaned closer. If Belinda’s mind were able to focus on resisting the soothing warmth flowing through her body while doing anything else she might have tried for a headbutt. Without her full wits about her, she merely stared into the woman’s yellow eyes.

Nose to nose, and all that Belinda could do was quiver.

“I am impressed. Unfortunately…” The woman’s nails pinched around one of her nipples, and Belinda could do nothing to hold back the scream as she began to slowly, firmly twist. Her lips quivered as the sound shuddered from deep inside of her throat, her eyes staring more blankly as the pleasure forced her resisting mind further down. “That just means we’re going to need to do more to you, not that you’re going to come out on top. That, my bovine beauty, was never an option. I can’t wait until these finish swelling up…”

Swelling… up… these… can’t… wait…

Her back arched as the woman pinched her nipple harder, tugging it to coax the heroine’s back out further and further. “You’re too far gone for any more work on your mind, but we can get more done on your body for today. You probably won’t remember this, but you can just think of me as The Veterinarian. I have a feeling that we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.

S-seeing… A lot… each other… ohhh… f-fuck… feels… so… noo… need to… need to fight…!

The Veterinarian’s laughter grew louder and louder until the sounds of it echoing through the depths of her mind were so loud they drowned out the rest of Belinda’s thoughts. All she could do was shudder and groan, limp as the needles were finally pulled free from her breasts.

Small, square cow-print band aids were pressed over the wounds left behind.

“Dream of green pastures, Bonfyre. Not that you’ll be seeing the outside ever again…”

“Mooing is better than thinking. Mooing feels better than speaking. You don’t want to think. You want to moo. You want to be a good, obedient cow.”

Belinda groaned as the world came back into focus. Large, noise-canceling headphones were clamped oppressively around her ears. The only thing she could hear was the dull, lulling tune that sounded almost psychedelic while also sounding like it might play during a slow panning shot of a nice green field.

“Mooing is better than thinking. Mooing is more natural than speaking. You don’t want to be a person. You want to be a cow. Moo, and surrender.”

She gritted her teeth, quietly snarling as her mind woke up enough for her to consciously realize what she was hearing repeated again and again for however long she’d been unconscious. It could have been minutes or hours. There was no way for her to know that she could trust.

“Moo, and obey, like a good, obedient cow.”

“N-oo-o-o…!” Belinda let out a sharp cry as something thrust deep between her legs. It was warm, and slick, and it reached so deep inside of her. Too tired, too barely awake, the heroine could do little to stop her body from greedily squeezing around the sudden invader.

“Mooing is better than thinking. Mooing feels better than speaking. You don’t want to think. You want to moo. You want to be a good, obedient cow.”

Belinda shook her head, whimpering as she bit at her lip just like she had before. Her hands tried to reach for the chains holding her arms above her head, but found that her hands weren’t moving quite right. When she looked up towards them, she found that her arms were trapped in white gloves spotted with black. Instead of ending in fingers, they ended in a split pair of hooves.

I’m not… I’m not a cow…! I don’t want to be a cow, and I won’t… won’t let them turn me into a cow…! Tears filled her blue eyes as she tried desperately to rip her arms free of the bonds while also trying to shake the headphones free from her head.

Neither seemed to have any give at all.

The heroine was trapped, unable to do anything but writhe as the toy between her legs began to move in perfect rhythm with the commanding, feminine voice in her ears that only felt more insistent as it repeated its truth over and over again. There was nowhere she could go to escape.

Withdrawing deeper into her mind wasn’t an option as the pressure between her legs seemed to force her to hear those repeated words again and again. She whimpered with each thrust, twisting up her face as she shook her head again and again.

Not a cow… not going to moo… I won’t do what they tell me to do! I’m a heroine, not a cow…!

As she shook her head she could feel a heavy weight moving at her neck. A black, leather collar held a large, golden cowbell that swung with every shake of her head. That wasn’t the only thing that swung, either.

Her breasts were already so much larger, heavier… fuller. She didn’t even need to look down to see them, not when she could feel them hanging at her chest. As much as she felt a growing urge, a deep, longing need to get a better look at her body, she didn’t want to give them another way to manipulate her mind. Seeing her arms ending in hooves was already feeling bad enough for her mental stability.

How long will it take, if they keep me like this, pumped full of drugs, before I start to believe that’s just how my arms really are…? I can’t make it easier for them… I can’t… Need to fight them…! For Flint… For Tinder… For my students…!

Belinda was panting, her body glistening wet with sweat and lust as her breasts continued to sway, and the length between her legs thrust deeper and deeper, again and again. The voice continued to drone into her ears, always right there, never far enough away to grant her the slightest moment of peace.

“Mooing is better than thinking. Mooing is more natural than speaking. You don’t want to be a person. You want to be a cow. Moo, and surrender.”

Finally awake enough, Belinda saw that to her horror, right in front of her was a mirror.

She couldn’t bring herself to look away—not fast enough. She couldn’t see the mechanism thrusting between her legs, but she didn’t need to. What she could see was enough to burn its way into her mind.

Her breasts weren’t as large as they felt, but they still looked as though they’d spill out of any bra she owned. She saw the cowbell, large and unflattering, as it swung at her neck. The white-and-black over her arms looked like it was made of the same material as her costume, looking almost-right and more wrong for the juxtaposition. A headband sat atop her short blue hair, holding a pair of cutesy horns.

Below her breasts in the mirror was wood, and a golden plaque with “Fire Cow #1” engraved and painted black.

Wh… why would there be a number one…? Do they have other fire… cows…! Her eyes opened wider as her dulled mind desperately processed what she was seeing. Everything was so slow, everything besides the swaying of her larger breasts, the cowbell, the large headphones, the horns on her head…

Her mouth twisted in moans that she carefully kept from sounding anything like mooing.

F-flint…! T-tinder…! If… if they got them… N-no…! I-I… I need to get out of here…!

“Moo, and obey, like a good, obedient cow.”

Belinda whined out as loudly as she could, only feeling the toy between her legs thrust faster, and harder. It felt artificial, too smooth, moving with too precise of a rhythm. Was it responding to her denials? She wasn’t sure of anything besides how bad it would be to give in.

She tried to look away from her own reflection, but only saw more mirrors. No matter where she looked there was more of her own body, swaying, jiggling, sweating, and glistening. Closing her eyes didn’t help. She couldn’t imagine anything else, not with that bizarrely soothing background music playing over the headphones. She could only think of cows, and swaying breasts—her own.

I can’t give in…! C-can’t make my fire… Can’t pull out of these bonds… Nnn… N-no… I can’t… I need to… n-no…!

Unlike her mind, Belinda’s body didn’t want to resist. The combination of drugs floating through her system and the persistent friction was too much for her to resist and before long Belinda was screaming at the top of her lung as her pussy clamped down tight around the toy between her legs. Moments later her juices flowed down along the toy, and her own slick thighs.

Everything felt so much harder to fight after that, but she still refused to give in.

Afterglow made the sight of herself, from any angle, look so much smoother and prettier. Her skin looked better than it ever had. The white over her arms with those cute, uneven blobs of black? Looked adorable. The blank look on her face, if she didn’t think of it as her face?

Something about it looked…

N…no… I won’t give in…

Belinda shook her head, groaning as she felt her body grow hotter and weaker. The warmer her body felt, the harder it was to think. If she didn’t think of some new way to resist, and soon, Belinda knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out forever.

Even knowing that, she couldn’t let herself surrender. Even if it was impossible, she would find a way.

Superheroines don’t surrender…! Belinda panted as her body bounced in counterpoint to the toy thrusting deep between her legs. If it’s impossible… that just means… Ohh… It’ll mean more when I… when I do it…! I’m not just Belinda Boyle… I’m not Fire Cow number anything…

I’m Bonfyre…!

Her certainty did nothing to stop her body from betraying her. She couldn’t stop herself from cumming as that voice repeated its mantra into her ears.

“Mooing is better than thinking. Mooing feels better than speaking. You don’t want to think. You want to moo. You want to be a good, obedient cow.”

Tears ran down Bonfyre’s face, but she didn’t give in. She didn’t yield. She didn’t moo. No matter how much that sounded easier, and how much she knew they would push her harder until her will was completely crushed, she didn’t yield for a moment.

A single moment’s surrender would bring her crumbling down, and she knew it.

Her clit hummed, pulsing and throbbing as her own body longed for her to stop fighting and squeeze tighter. Fighting against her own desires was difficult, but she would need to try.

“Mooing is better than thinking. Mooing is more natural than speaking. You don’t want to be a person. You want to be a cow. Moo, and surrender.”

Bonfyre didn’t moo, but she did moan, her eyes going blank as she came again.