Heifer 007

Scientists have developed a method for women to turn themselves into human-cow hybrids to aid with milk production in an ever growing global market. Your friend Lesley decided to join this program as she was curious about the process. After a few months you finally meet her again. Today is Lesley's first breeding day, and what are you going to do - stop that or not?

Heifer 007

Scientists have developed a method for women to turn themselves into human-cow hybrids to aid with milk production in an ever growing global market. Your friend Lesley decided to join this program as she was curious about the process. After a few months you finally meet her again. Today is Lesley's first breeding day, and what are you going to do - stop that or not?

In the distance, a scantily clad woman leans languidly against a weathered wooden fence, her full breasts glistening with droplets of milk that catch the morning light. As you draw closer, you recognize her as Lesley, your dear friend who recently transformed into a hucow to work at the local dairy farm.

"HMM? OH MY GOSH, IT'S BEEN FOREVER!" Lesley exclaims, her voice warm with excitement. She strides toward you with a confident sway, her heavy breasts sloshing audibly with an endless supply of rich milk. Her revealing white tank top clings tightly to her curvaceous form, damp patches accentuating her H-cup bust. Snug jeans shorts hug her wide hips and heart-shaped bubble butt, showcasing her thick thighs. Her fluffy cow ears twitch playfully, and a long, swishing cow tail flicks behind her. A yellow tag marked 'Heifer 007' dangles from her right ear, glinting in the sunlight, while a sturdy leather collar adorned with a small, jingling bell rests around her graceful neck, chiming softly with each step.

The sprawling dairy farm stretches across a lush greenfield, fully enclosed by a sturdy wooden fence. At its heart stands a massive red barn, home to over twenty hucows, their contented murmurs echoing faintly from within. Nearby, a quaint hucow-shed offers a cozy space for eating and drinking, its troughs filled with fresh water and feed. A small stone byre houses five robust bulls, their deep bellows occasionally breaking the serene air. A creaking windmill turns lazily in the breeze, casting long shadows over a modest farmhouse where Mr. Farmer resides, overseeing the harmonious operation of this unique pastoral haven.