Michelle's Diary: Babs And Daisy free porn video

Michelle's Diary: Babs and Daisy Hi, this is Michelle! Maybe you know a bit of my story already. Louise tricked me - okay, she tricked me twice - into what I am today. Not that I would complain. I - we - have lots of fun now. First we had a heated discussion where I insulted her and her job as a surgeon or to be more precise about being a plastic surgeon at that. After which I ended up in high-heels as her maid. To gain that she took good use of her abilities and artificial tendons she was developing and experimenting with. Then my fury and loose mouth pushed me further. Let's just say I got a lot more than I bargained for. To help some friends we started a 'business' and transformed some lazy or cheating hubbies or some chauvinistic pigs into servants or pets of their choice. Again the artificial tendons and some electronically gadgets came in handy. While I was preparing a client, Louise caught me on tape while I bubbled about my own transition. She put it up here on Fictionmania to show me how I would feel about telling my private secrets to strangers... (look up "Male Zunt") ... and I love it! That's why I started reading stories here myself, too. (Louise once admitted, that she had some of her ideas from stories hosted here - like my zunt) It definitely made our life much more interesting. Louise's extraordinary abilities paired with her wicked sense of humor and my programming abilities and urge for exploration spiced with some money and access to latest technology were impregnated by the combined power of imagination of authors on Fictionmania. Wooo-hooo! Anyhow, I got determined to make up some stories of my own and maybe load them up to pay back for all the fun we gained from reading and making ideas real. But I am not as good with words as Louise. So I withdrew that idea a few pages later. Nevertheless I started a diary a while ago to get in contact with my inner feelings and to see what I am now and where I came from. But that are mere notes. What should I say, I am a techie, a head-person - maybe even creative, but not with words and feelings. I am good in computing and tech stuff, but Louise is more in balance with words. So when she proposed, I should publish my diary instead, I plainly refused. But then something happened and I have to share it with someone ... anyone. Not that I feel ashamed or frightened or shocked. No, it is just too much to keep it to myself. So I made the notes and left it to Louise to make sense of them. And she really did. Hope you like it - although it is not really 'MY' diary, but merely 'ours' now. ***** May 15th When I woke up, I was has alone in our big bed. My claws had pierced another set of satin sheets. I guess that was the price to pay. Louise had worked her magic on me once more. Between my knuckles she fitted some bearings and attached three claws - almost as long as the fingers framing that very claw to its left and right. They were bent like a saber or my fingers when relaxed. Since I could not retract them like a 'normal' cat could, I could at least hide them between my fingers. But when I clenched my fists, they protruded from my knuckles like three curved razor-sharp pruning knifes at each hand. I know, it is kinky, but a cute(?) cat-girl like me has to be able to protect herself. Louise had made sure that the additional tendons between my original ones kept them in place and prevented slicing my own palms or wrists. When I made a fist, my fingers kind of locked against my palms. Then instead of my fingers my muscles could control the blades. Okay, not really my muscles. Louise had installed some sensors under the skin along my arms. Now a flinch or hardening of my muscle, as one would command to move a finger, would be interpreted as a command to move a claw. I could even type fluently without problems - ten fingers or six claws (after some practice, of course). Still nights were another issue. When I clenched my fists while dreaming, my claws snapped out and sometimes closed around a pillow. Maybe I dreamed about chasing mice, as Louise has liked to tease me. Somehow I never made the tiniest scratch on her and she still felt totally save in my arms. Anyway, Louise was gone and I had hooked a pillow instead. Most likely she had been called in as seemed a habit during the last nights. There was no conspiracy, just the weather. Already pretty warm during the day it became still foggy in the evenings and icy in the mornings. Lots of young drivers were unprepared for such conditions and the surgeons had plenty of work. Still a bit exhausted from our late night activities I got up. Louise had been a wildcat last night and didn't even need a furry tail, claws, eight breasts or cute whiskers for that. Instead she was all over me - licking, gently biting and digging in her nails. Finally she had unlocked my zunt and pulled out my 'double-headed' dildo (the second head on top of my shoulders as she never got tired announcing). The girl-on-'cat-girl'-action grew to the limit. Now she was probably refreshed and I on low voltage. When I wriggled myself over to the edge of the bed, I got aware, that she had locked 'me' in again. I didn't mind. Of course, I missed taking a leak while standing and having just to open the zipper of my trousers to do so. But then I didn't wear pants a lot lately. I liked the way a mini skirt brushed against my stocking-clad thighs and showed off my more slender looking high-heeled legs. (I rarely wear less than 4 inch heels now. 5 are standard and I even got me a pair with 6 inches, which are my absolute favorites. Those with 7.5 inch heels I wear just in bed. I can easily walk in them like on 'Next Top model' - Louise almost laughed her butt off, when I catwalked for her [cat-girl doing catwalk?!? what's not funny about that?] - but it is not sexy.) Now I have just to pull up the hem of my skirt, lower myself onto the loo and let go. As for a zipper - I could zip open my zunt, but what for? Okay, now I have to wipe myself clean, but beside that it is not so different from before. Well, I avoid public toilets now. I will not draw the picture here, but I think you got it. Back to my zunt, I guess, I would have locked in 'myself' anyway. I really enjoy the void between my legs and even more to run around with my void bare. *blush* I tiptoed to the bathroom. My tendons were still set for my 6 inch heels from last night. It caused a sexy wiggle, which Louise loved so much, in my steps. It was not so much of a difference with or without high-heels on for me now. So I kept the setting on high ever since Louise gave me my own smartphone to control my 'tendons 2.0' as I liked to joke. Still first thing was to step in some 6 inch mules I kept in the bathroom. It was easier to stand in them than to tiptoe around while brushing my teeth or applying my make-up. They were powder-blue and had a wide clear plastic strap across the span. They are not as cute or sexy as I usually wear, but they are water-proof and I can wear them in the shower, too. I dressed in my usual 'working cloth' - usual for working girl Michelle, that is. The Halloween costume had been replaced a while ago. It feels like an eternity, another lifespan, away now. First I donned a custom- made powder-blue corset. Below my 'normal' breasts there were no boning, just especially reinforced but still soft layers of tissues. Like a body-shaper it was softer and less rigid where my 'other' breasts and nipples rose, but tighter and less elastic between. An almost invisible, but nevertheless thick and soft padding gave me a 'normal'-looking flat stomach and slim waist. I would not need it to slim down the waist, since I still had my 'built-in' in-body corset - a mesh of tendons - around my lower body. I skipped the g-string I sometime wear for 'decency' but dressed in some fishnet stockings with frilly, lacy hem, which I fastened to garters dangling from my corset. It had been quite a pain in the a...fternoon to learn to pull up the stockings with my claws. First I had torn some pairs with the tips of my claws. A few more I had cut apart while closing the garter's claps. But now I could do it with eyes closed. Finally, I pulled the powder-blue French maid's dress into place and laced myself in. Stepping into my light-blue and white 5 inch stiletto heels I was prepared for the day and left the bedroom. I had some light breakfast before I started my chores. Since I had finished my project for Louise's hospital some months ago, I had not much to do speaking IT. The Indian team Louise had recruited to replace me, while I was out healing from her pay-back operations, did most of the work. They took over maintenance, bug-fixing and hotline support. I had 'just' to manage the project, do the project lead and negotiations and in general 'boss around'. That left me plenty of time once the project was released, since I had planned the project so well before and the Indian developers had followed my specs to the T. Thus I spent most of the week as Michelle and dusted and cleaned and vacuumed the house. On her days off Louise became Lilou and helped me to satisfy 'our employers' or sometimes teased 'Mike-me' by doing the chores in very high heels but rather short lacy skirts. Most of the time she did not get very far. Dusting the luster while standing on a ladder or cleaning below the settee and soon Mr. Mike was begging for attention and being dusted instead, if you know what I mean. Our house was maybe the cleanest this side of the Rio Grande and so it didn't really matter. When we shared the chores it took us so less time we were making out pretty soon, too. But I digress. I had finished the kitchen and was about to start with the laundry, when it was ringing and hammering at the front door. So used to how I was dressed as Michelle now I didn't give it a second thought and rushed over to the door my heels clickering over the tiled floor. I checked shortly who was making all that noise, before swinging open the door. Barbara-Ann literally fell into my arms. I didn't know her so well, but nevertheless I found her clutched to my bosom sobbing for all the world was worth only milliseconds later. I waited maybe half a minute, but when the sobbing didn't stop, I gently swept her in my arms lifted her of the floor and carried her into the living room. There I lowered myself into our Chesterfield sofa still holding her close and then placed her legs on some pillows. Her arms still slung around me and her bobbing head on my soft mounds I waited for her to calm down. Barbara-Ann, Babs, was one of Louise's good friends. They went to school together or something. Now she had a farm some 15 miles out of town with some cattle and strictly organic food. She was still drabbed in her working gear - plaid flannel shirt and not so clean jeans. It startled me more, that she wore just one sneaker. After maybe half an hour she was merely dry-sobbing and calmer by the minute. Unknowingly I had started rocking her gently back and forth while still pressing her to my chest. Finally she looked up with a mixture of sadness, guilt, shock and fright. Suddenly more afraid of something she tried to wiggle out of my embrace and I let her. She sat up and pressed herself into the opposite corner of the sofa. A haunted look of a trapped animal filled her eyes. I stood up slowly and glided a few steps further away from her, before slowly facing her again. "Babs, what's wrong? Can I help you or get you any help?" She shook her head without much energy left no. "Louise?" she breathed more than she said almost noiseless. "Sorry, dear, but she left for some emergency and I don't know, when she will be back... Uhm, of cause, you can wait for her. Stay here as long as you want... Can I get you something to drink or to eat?" "Tea please " escaped her almost inaudible as if with her last energy. I slowly went to the kitchen picked up some tea, I had left there to cool. Returning I carefully avoided to fuel her fears. I set the tea onto a sidetable and shoved it slowly towards her. Thus the table always assured her private space. I lowered myself to the carpet and 'ignored' her for some minutes. She still looked at me from time to time with that haunted and frightened look in her eyes. Like a wounded wild animal in a sanctuary for the first time not sure if to run or to trust. One could almost see her torn between the force to run from danger and predators and the imprint to eat as much as and when ever you get the chance. Primary instincts I guess. I slowly rose and went over to Louise's lazy chair. I curled my fluffy grey and yellow tail around my legs intentionally. She should feel I wasn't hunting. Maybe the primary instincts of a flight animal stored and buried deep in the primeval parts of our brains could still decode such messages. At least I hoped so. After a few minutes more I picked up Louise's favorite, really fluffy and cozy long-hair velvet blanket and walk back to Babs. Again carefully trying to appear as less predatory and frightening as one can with razor-sharp blades at hand and the look of a 180 pound tabby. Immediately Barbara-Ann curled into the soft blanket. Still she shot a fearful look at me and blushed at the same time, probably out of shame about her reaction towards me. Head rested against the armrest she balled up like she had in her mother's womb. I turned toward our stereo and started some classy late nite bar lounge jazz. Maybe the music would help her to relax a bit further. I strolled back behind the table and lowered myself onto some cushions I had piled there in a heap. Then I curled myself onto the stack and my tail around myself. I pretended not to look at her anymore but strained my ears and senses to suck-in everything she emitted. Half through the fifth or sixth song a voiceless 'thank you' disturbed the silence between us. I looked up and found her looking at me. I nodded 'no worries' back and smiled at her reassuringly I hoped. She took a deep breath and exhaled a few times. "I ... have been raped!" she more breathed than whispered. It came out shockingly emotionless and pressed. It took all I had in me to suppress the urge of my male brain to jump up and shelter her. My protective instincts were going 100 miles an hour in a blink of an eye. But I calmed myself - at least on the outside. I had to fight back my caveman needs and being a 'solution provider' rather than a friend that Barbara-Ann needed most now. "Should I call a doctor... the police... some family or friends? Are you hurt?" I knew, it was a stupid question the moment I asked, but I had to ask it anyway. Somehow it was enough to blow some steam and not jump up and run over to hold her. She only shook her head no, sadly and powerless. My protective instincts hammered like a caged wild animal against the bars my socialization had erected. I waited, unsure what to do next. Barbara-Ann inhaled one more time as if to prepare for the unbearable and asked. "Would ... would you ... hold me some more?" Suddenly she looked like a little child in a too big world. Once more I had to pull my inner leashes hard to not jump and run over to her. Every fiber of my body ached and screamed. I don't know how nature made sure the females of our species possessed such an impact on our innermost male self. I strolled around the table and sat onto the sofa and pulled Babs over onto my lap. Still balled up in the blanket I rocked her gently back and forth. She laid her head against my bosom again and maybe forgot I was male underneath. I had seen her on some rare occasions before when she came over to visit Louise. But even then they were short stop-bys, because she had to feed her animals and groom them and what else. First time she had seen me, she had seen me as Michelle and not as Mike. It was a party we gave for some close friends which had benefitted from Louise's skills and tendons and my programming of the tendon-controlling devices. Most of them got rid of shabby or lousy hubbies, friends and sons but gained some well-behaved 'pets', maids or 'living toys'. On such occasions I liked to play the maid and Louise the host, which left us all girls and by that more at ease. Since our former clients saw me as one of the girls it was more or less an adult slumber party. Some were even starting to dress kinky and sexy, but strictly for their own amusement - not to provoke and NOT to seduce. Maybe a little to tease - like my extra-starched disc-like petticoat and missing g-string under my maid's dress. Anyway, I had Babs met there and she was none of the kinky ones. Right the opposite - buttoned-up almost like an elderly librarian. Not as old - just as stiff. Then she was/is more on the plumb side. Not the stereotypical farmer's daughter, rather the farmer's wife or mother. Not fat, just a bit too short and no hour-glass figure. A buxom bosom (at least E and that on a small frame), the round face and then wide neck enhanced the impression to the limit. She seemed very aware of that fact, which did not exactly bust her self-esteem. She is a real work-horse, too. Since her parents became too old and passed the farm to her, she groomed and made it into a first class organic farm mostly on her own. She started it when it wasn't hip as it is nowadays and still made her profits. In summer she engaged a few hands, but mainly she was alone throughout the year. Suddenly something interrupted my thoughts. Barbara-Ann must have whispered something. I looked down and saw her looking scared and as if expecting an answer. "Sorry, Barbara-Ann, I didn't get you. Would you repeat it, please?" I prayed I hadn't missed the chance to get her open up and talking. She looked as if not sure where to begin or whether to begin at all. "I... was in the shed ... milking the cows when ... " She interrupted her bumpy speech midsentence as if ashamed and guilty. I pulled here against my breasts again and let her take her time. "Dear, tell when you are to do so and what you are ready. I won't judge you and you might feel better if someone is in on it..." "... my neighbor ... he caught me when I ... was bent ... . I could hear him breath and cough as he often does ... when he ... He shoved me against the bars ... where I ... I ..." She had to stop for some heaves and to calm down. "He strapped me to the bar I tie my cows to ... when ... when ... when I milk them. He pulled down my trousers and ... cut off my shirt and ... bra ... Then he ... took me ... raped me from behind. He ..." Her voice died on her lips. I gently patted her head while I waited for her to relax a bit again. "He ... he called me a cow all the time! He grabbed and squeezed my breasts very hard ... and then ... and then ... He left me there - with my neck strapped to the bar. ... standing bent over, naked, my hands tied behind my back and with teatcups suckling on my breasts. ... He had placed two teatcups on each breast and blocked the self- release trigger. So it sucked and sucked for what seemed like ours. He laughed when he left me. I can still hear him laugh ... " She took a deep breath as fighting for air. "If I hadn't managed to open the rope around my hands I might have strangled myself as soon as my legs went jelly ... I ... I even thought to strangle myself ... only ... only to ... to get rid of the pain and shame... but then ... then I would let him get away with this and I won't!" Her gaze had shifted from frightened child to rarely controlled fury. Blank hate and determination came to her eyes. "He will pay for this!" I had never seen her like this. Okay, I had not seen much of her before. But that seemed very unusual and exceptional from as far as I could judge her temper. Moments later the fire died down and was replaced by the haunted expression and soon tears swelled up in her eyes again. I had boiled in my rage while she spoke. But unlike her shattered emotional balance, my rage knew only one way. My protective instincts told me there was a hurt friend and a female at that. Somebody had crossed my territorial screen and questioned my strength. At least that was how my caveman part of mind saw it. On the rational civilized side it did not look much better either. Again one scumbag had pressed a stamp onto the male part of society - giving all of us a bad name. And Babs' tears only fuelled my rage. Suddenly clarity snapped to my mind. Still patting Babs gently, I reached over to the sidetable, where Louise had left her version of a 'poison ring' - a ring fitted with a tiny needle full of an artificial variant of curare. While still patting Babs' head I pricked the needle very shortly into her arm. It didn't even make her flinch. She sobbed and shook in my arms until she grew silent. I picked her up and carried her to our guest room or maid's room when I had/wanted to stay in role. It was hard to carry her. Not because of her weight but because of my high-heels. They are great, sexy and stylish but definitely not the best footwear to carry a limb body. Nevertheless I managed and soon tugged her into bed. I didn't dare to undress her. I wanted her to feel safe and not in doubt what I had done after I drugged her. So I just slipped off the remaining sneaker and placed Mr. Pinky into her arms. [it's a huge pink and very friendly teddy bear. Great for hugs if you are sad.] I rushed into the kitchen and wrote a note about Babs' being here for Louise. Then I grabbed my keys and rushed out the door. Just when I buckled up, I noticed the way I was dressed. But then I was too pissed to go back and change clothes. I speeded down to the gates, squeaked onto the road and speeded towards the farm, my high-heeled foot flooring the throttle. I had picked up Babs once, so I knew exactly who and where her neighbor was. Tom! As my luck went we had met that one time, when I forgot about my mascara and eyeliner. He had wolf-whistled and then laughed is butt off. I didn't get it before Babs discretely pointed to her eye. This time he would see more of me than just some painted eyes. Now that scene only added more kerosene to my fire of rage. I stopped at Babs' farm house unsure, what to do first, when Tom stepped out of the shed. Probably he went to check on Babs, but more likely came back to have another 'dance' with her, if not to dump her corpse. He stopped in his tracks and curiously looked over to me. When I stepped out of the car, he lingered some seconds too long on my shoes. Because he started: "Barbara isn't here. I already checked the..." then his voice trailed off, while kind of recognition hit his eyes. "...ohh, you?!! That must be my lucky day ... first a cow and now a kitten!..." I was about to yell at him, when I thought of something else. I am a big fan of Clint Eastwood, still my "Make my day!", was more like "Ooooh, big boy, come over here and make my day..." while licking my painted lips. Maybe he was not into my 'Cindy Eastwood' version or no Eastwood fan at all. Because he stomped his feet, while coming onto me like a rhino. When he was only five feet away, I clenched my left fist and let him see my deadly blades. He immediately stopped. Shocked and confused. I took care of that and while he looked in awe at my claws, my right hand darted forward, where the ring met his hand raised in defense. He looked at his palm shortly and not really registering what just happened, before he sagged like a sliced-open hot air balloon to the ground. Not to keen to drag his unconscious body to the car, I parked as close as possible next to him and hauled his sorrow ass into the trunk. My way back took more than twice as long as before. I kept more or less within speed limits. Not only did I have an unconscious body in the back, but no papers for my car or 'body' as well. An officer would have a lot to investigate and I could spent quite some time my bottom pressed against some prison wall - if not even strapped down, because of my blades. High on adrenaline I safely arrived home. I reared towards the garage. After I had checked Tom was still out like a light and Babs still in a peaceful sleep, I grabbed Louise's special lab barrow and headed back to the garage. I pulled Tom out of the trunk and onto the barrow and wheeled him down into the basement. First I headed for the shower. I didn't bother too much with his clothes. A surgeon's emergency scissor was all it needed to have him barenaked. I didn't care for his clothes, because for all I knew, he wouldn't need them anymore. Still on the barrow I covered him in a thick layer of Nair mixed with a special Amazonian leap frog's poison. While Nair would get rid of the visible hair, the poison would 'dry-out' the follicles, killing any possibility of hair growing back. I wrapped him up in kitchen foil to refine in his own juices. I left him there still unconscious, while I prepared Louise's secret realm. It helped me to calm down as well, since it has become for me some kind of routine during the visits of our 'clients'. After a bit over a quarter of an hour I went back to get Tom. I rinsed down the cream along with all of his body's hair. Even with out his pubic hair 'he' didn't look big by any means. Maybe one girl too many made fun of 'him' and something inside him snapped. But that was none of my business. All what counted was his latest action and bad judgment with Babs. I wheeled him into the operation room and placed him onto the table. I had made some adjustments over the past months. One were two tubes in the middle of the pane. I shoved one into his backside, not stopping to grease it with Jelly. I grinned inwardly when I though of his uncomfortable waking. The second was a clear plastic tube. I switched on a vacuum pump and watched his tiny Willy being sucked in the tube. With some tape and a strap around his balls I secured the tube in place and switched off the pump. Next came an oval frame, I placed between his eyelids. They kept them open no matter what. One semitransparent hemisphere fitted right into the rim of each frame. Next modification of the table came in form of a latex sheet. I placed it on top of him and fitted two holes of the holes of the rubber sheet into the frames as well. Two further holes came equipped with small tubes and plugs on the inside. I shoved them into his nose. Finally I opened his jaws and screwed a plug inside his mouth - to muffle him, keep him from suffocating and to have a direct access. I fastened the sheet to the edges of the table, before switching on another vacuum pump. This time the sheet molded itself to every line of his body. Finally he looked like the carbonite-frozen Han Solo. Only with a flat crotch since his dick was tugged between his legs by the plastic tube. I sealed the valve, switch off the pump and turned him into a vertical position. Now he was facing a wall-mounted mirror. If not for the hemispheres over his eyes he could gap in awe at the living sculpture he had become. But he needed the spheres to keep his eyes moist, while I had no intention of let him see too much. He should boil in his own thoughts and fears for all that I cared. I went upstairs and checked on Babs again. Since she was still out and peacefully sleeping, I headed for Louise's study and turned on the computer. A bit of transfur.com was all it took to nail together my plan of vengeance. I took my tablet screen and began sketching what I had in mind. Thank god, I was locked up. Otherwise drawing would have been quite messy, if you know what I mean. By the time Louise came home I had finished my plan, contacted all of our suppliers, where needed, taken care of Babs and dressed up to the nine. Okay within my limits of course. But I thought I looked like the devilish version of a wicked 50's pin-up-nurse. My nurse outfit was dark-red latex with black seams, laces and buttons. I wore dark lipstick, eye-shadow and heavy black mascara. A black nurse cap with a red cross up front pinned to my hair. My skirt flared out to the sides exposing suspender nylon stockings with a straight seam running up the backside of my legs. I towered on red 7 inch plateau stilettos. I know, I still do not look really pretty or feminine, but I felt very comfortable. My fluffy tail curled in anticipation and my cat-ears were pointed. I guess I hadn't mentioned it before. Since I confessed to Louise that I liked being a cat-girl more than being a bitch (who wouldn't?) we had started my transition. The greyhound's tail had been replaced by a 1.3 yard long tail. Yellow and grey stripes and fluffy and furry. I had enhanced the programming and modified it to fit cat responses more. It did not just wag or hide between my legs, rather it was able to curl and flinch and sway nervously or angry to the sides. It could go erect on being touched at the lower back or when I was about to head somewhere. Same went for my ears. Louise had implanted some magnets below the skin above my own ears. There the artificial ones were glued in place by the magnetic power. My ears were not as fluffy as my tail but still grey and yellow and hid my ears quite effectively. That was the way I was dressed when Louise entered our house. She smiled a bit surprised and curiously but most of all wickedly. I swept her in my arms and kissed her long and hard hello, until I stood only there pressing her against my chest. After what felt like mere seconds but were minutes maybe, Louise coughed and I released her. "So what is going on, sweetie?" was her next question. Instead of answering I dragged Louise, clutching her hand, into the living room and pulled her closer to me, while I sank onto the chesterfield. It reminded me of how I had sat there some mere hours ago with Babs and it stung somewhere deep inside my chest. I tensed shortly before I was able to tell Louise all that had happened. I had to keep her from jumping up or to comfort her dependent from which point I had reached. I finished how I had tied Tom to the wall. Louise were drained of power and fuelled by anger at the same time. I could see her fight between running down to Tom and checking on Babs and crying hugged against my breasts. Finally she calmed down some degrees and looked me in the eyes: "So, taking in account the way you are dressed and your preparing of Tom so far, what do you have in mind? What do you want to do to him?" Somehow I had only waited for this question. I had waited for this question impatiently like a child for Santa. Now I grabbed some prints I had piled on the sidetable before. I 'slide-showed' my drawings to Louise without saying a word. They were speaking clearly enough on their own. First her eyes grew wide from shock and surprise, but soon her face settled into a satisfied, don't-mess-with-my-friends grin. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled our lips together. Free again she smiled conspiratorial at me: "My, aren't we a wicked little bitch? Oooops, tabby?" Her smile had widened since her slip was intentionally and she had seen me flinch. "I only learned from the best!" I replied nonchalantly before I grinned as the famous Cheshire cat myself. Then I stole a kiss from her sensuous lips and pulled her to her feet. We hurried over to the guest room and checked on Babs. She was sleeping like a little angel and Louise broke down next to her immediately. She sobbed a while with her head propped against Babs' shoulder. When her tears went dry she cuddled against her friend and told her she would be there for her and everything would be okay. I silently sneaked out of the room and went to prepare some dinner. When Louise hadn't arrived after everything was done, I went down to the basement to check on Tom. He was still out too. I 'fed' him some nutrition and gave him something to drink through the mouth piece in the latex sheet. After dinner Louise and I went to bed. We didn't make out that night, but kissed and cuddled and cradled in each others arms a lot. ***** May 16th When I woke up I dressed the way I had the day before. Wicked nurse - devilish bad latex nurse. Then I went down to prepare breakfast. After Louise and I had eaten mainly in silence Louise went to take care of Babs. I cleaned up and went down into the basement. There I fed Tom some more though the opening in the plug in his mouth and then I lowered him until the table was horizontal again. I took a block of foam rubber, which got two halfpipes carved in one side. They fitted exactly over Tom's legs where his calves were. Then I strapped the block into place. Now I could open a valve and remove the part of the rubber sheet covering Tom's feet without 'untying' him elsewhere. I cleaned his feet and then placed a tin can over each foot. When that was done I wrapped a rubber cloth around his feet and the tins, sealing them off best I could. I took an aerosol can and shoved the nuzzle between the rubber and his skin. Soon latex foam filled the tin, while I held his ankle strained to point downwards. When the foam had hardened sufficiently, I repeated the process at the other foot. Soon both feet were surrounded by hardened foam inside tin cans. After I had fed Tom some more and removed what had left the tubes attached to his midsection, it was time to remove the tins as well. Luckily the foam came off in one piece and I could continue my little project. First I inserted some of the frog's poison, we used to kill the follicles, next to the root of each toe nail. It would not kill their growth completely, but slow it down significantly. At least I hoped so. I applied a layer of silicon spray to the negatives of Tom's feet before I filled them up with the same latex foam. When it was dry and hardened, I removed the negatives and the positives from those tins. I covered the toes and the balls of the feet's positives in a thin layer of silicon rubber and used a hair dryer to harden it faster. As soon as it was dry I placed a cardboard between the second and the third toe of each positive, before hanging them toes-down back into a tin each. Finally I took a fiber-reinforced polymer resin and poured it into the tins. After lunch it had hardened completely and I took them to a workshop I had set up in our second garage a while ago. I removed the tins and the positives. Then I took my electric die grinder and shaped both rolls to my liking. Then I split each roll along the cardboards, before I painted them black with a heavy-duty paint. I finished just in time to fetch the package, the delivery boy was about to load back into his truck. He looked a bit shocked, but I meowed nicely and purred friendly before turning around to give him a good view of my shapely backside and legs. Not without letting my tail intentionally unintentionally brushes his crotch and nose as well as lifting the backside of my red latex skirt. Luckily men are such pigs and always lock their gaze onto my boobies or derriere, otherwise he still could easily have detected my male face underneath my 'devil's nurse war paint' while I had signed the delivery. Back inside I looked for Louise. I found her gently brushing Barbara- Ann's hair. Babs were still unconscious or maybe sleeping now. When Louise looked up I nodded towards the hallway. She stopped brushing, kissed Babs motherly on her front and finally she joined me. I showed her the package and we headed to the basement. The package contained all I had ordered. Louise grinned as satisfied as I did while checking the content. Then we went to prepare Tom for the next step. I lowered Tom onto the operation table and removed his latex restraint. I placed a oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and added some anesthetic gas. (I had passed a training for dentist's nurses to gain the basic skills. It had been quite funny to be 'just one of the girls', although I guess they saw through my weak disguise.) I had disinfected my latex gloves and everything else as soon as I entered the rooms downstairs. I was used to do so and did it all the time out of habit. I rarely came down here without taking care of a 'client'. So I had to most of the times anyway. Then I helped Louise in her outfit and we went to work on Tom. ***** May 19th Barbara-Ann had gained consciousness again. First she was confused and couldn't make sense of all the fragments hovering around in her head, but then she recalled everything and I could see her eyes went wide in horror. Luckily she relaxed and sank back into the pillows. I told her not worry anymore. She was safe now. She relaxed some more, but then she asked which day it was. When I told her, she would have jump out of the bed, if not for me holding her back. "My cows... My farm..." I told her, I had taken care of that too. I went to look after her farm twice a day and after Tom's farm as well. His animals shouldn't suffer because of his stupidity as less as Babs'. I could only do the absolute minimum necessary, but still it was almost breaking me to pieces. Not used to that much of hard work and replacing two skilled workers at that, I came to my limits quite quickly. But I couldn't hire hands, of course, either. For one due to my looks. Which proud and probably macho Mexican would like to get commands from a 'chica loco' or a man dressed kinkily feminine. Beside I didn't know enough about farming to tell others what to do to keep everything up. And last but not least, I would maybe get away with it for one farm, but two!? This didn't even include how to explain Tom's absence and me replacing him! One thing to reduce my workload a lot was a rented automatic milking machine. I had seen them on Discovery Channel a while ago. Luckily there was a rental service in case your own milking shed broke down. I ordered a transportable automatic milking shed and had him installed close to the original shed. It is truly amazing, what you can do, if money is not the first problem. Once installed, I herded the cows one by one through the gates into the new shed. A robot arm cleaned the teats before setting the teatcups. While the milking proceeded a hard-fibred rotating brush cleaned the back and the sides of the cow. First they were a bit frightened, but that cleaning was obviously like a 'spa massage for cows' and I literally had to shove them out of the shed once the milking was finished. While in the shed the ear tag of that cow was scanned by a computer and the milk was measured, analyzed and journalized. Once every cow had been registered the shed would watch automatically that they would not be milked (massaged) too often a day. When I got there the second time that day, some cows seemed distracted and mooed as if to be milked. I lead those one by one the gate of the new shed which opened for them magically. They stepped inside on their own this time and after I had brought the first few cows to the gates, the other lined up without my doing. Speak of stupid cows again! Since that day I had much less to do. Babs seemed to be relaxed and content when I finished my short report. She had even eaten half of the fruits and toasts while I gave my summary of the days at the farm. Suddenly obviously she remembered Tom. I saw it, when she went rigid again. I placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her straight in the eyes. "Tom has been taken care of! Don't worry! Just try to get a little rest..." She nodded slowly and was about to answer me when the power visibly drained from her and she let her head sink back. While I stroked and brushed her hair she closed her eyes and was asleep within moments. I went down to check on Tom, too. He was still out like a light. Partly out of exhaustion from the severe operation he had been through and partly from the drug cocktail we pumped into his veins using a timer- controlled insulin-pump. He was back being mounted at the wall. Only his shape was clearly different this time. I lowered him a bit until I could easily unsheet his feet again. After I had done so, I grabbed the molds I had finished meanwhile. I pressed them onto his toes until they covered the balls and a good part of his forefeet. When I was satisfied they fitted just right, I removed them and dipped his feet into an adhesive usually used to glue some boobs onto our 'not sooo bad clients'. Still strong enough to hold a cup G size silicon breast for two to four weeks if the client didn't sweat too much. Anyway, now a lot more slippery my molds went over his toes in no time and fitted even better. The wetter - the better! Before I fixed the rubber sheet over his feet again I glued a wrap of white long-haired fur along the top of each mold. Then I pulled him up again and checked his vital signs, before I left for my day at the farm(s). ***** May 20th I woke up refreshed and full of energy. Louise had been a wildcat in bed again. I was not so bad either, if I might say so. We both had been driven to new heights because we knew today would be Tom's big day. Not that he would notice any of it, but still it was satisfying and stimulating for us. I dressed in my 'usual' powder-blue maid's outfit. Did my 'usual housekeeper' make-up and donned my favorite 6 inch-heels. Louise was still exhausted and asleep when I sneaked out of the room. I prepared breakfast and went to check on Babs. She looked at me with big questioning eyes. Maybe today was the first day she was really conscious again. I greeted her joyfully to make her feel home, safe and welcome. She answered timidly but with a bit of a cheer hinting in her voice. I helped her to sit up. She was a bit weak and wobbly after her long sleep, few liquid meals and all those tranquillizers. I placed her in a wheelchair Louise kept in store for such occasions. In the guest bathroom I helped her to do her business and in to the tub. She had a nice relaxing flowery bubble bath. I washed her hair and set it for her in a lovely but simple enough style. (Something I had to learn during my time as Louise's maid) I dabbed her dry and dressed her in a fluffy white robe. She might have felt like in a spa. I wheeled Babs in the kitchen and helped her to some scrambled eggs, toasts, fruits, bacon, dairies and lots of coffee. She wolfed it down until she got aware I was smiling at her. I was really happy she was hungry again. But she excused herself and went shy with the rest. So I prepared lots more and pretended to look for Louise while Babs finished it all. Louise was excited as well. She hugged Babs enthusiastically before she shoved all the food I had now prepared for both of us into her cute little mouth. I crooked an eye at them but they both just smiled. So I prepared a stack of pancakes this time. Luckily I managed to eat three myself. When we were all finished. That is Babs and Louise stuffed and I am out of anything to eat for breakfast, we left the kitchen and wheeled Babs down the stairs. I can tell you high-heels are not designed to so, too. But I managed 'despite my lack of nutrition'. When we reached the last room's door, we stopped. "Babs, are you ready for this?" She looked back and forth between the two of us a few times and then she nodded timidly at first but then more resolutely with each nod. Nevertheless, when I opened the door and pushed her through she was shocked and frightened again. Slowly she made sense of that strange relief hanging from the opposite wall. While Louise took hold of Babs' hands and squeezed them reassuringly, I went over to Tom and lowered him slowly. When he was horizontal again I lowered him some more for Babs to see. Next I removed the rubber sheet and all attachments. Then I stepped aside and let Babs soak in the view. Tom lay there - bare of all hair and some operation bruises still showing and of course, some of our modifications more or less visible. The most noticeable was his dick. Where he used to be there was a void - or a slit, kind of. The plastic tube, which had enclosed his buddy, had been - had to be - replaced with another one. This became necessary because his buddy wasn't where it had been ever since. Instead a plastic tube - make that a plastic plug - was shoved into a 'newly drilled' hole. A small rubber tube exited the outside end of the plug and vanished in the urethra, which ended now right above the well-filled hole. It looked faintly like a vagina but not quite. There were no labia at all - just a flat void with a bigger and a smaller hole. Between the buttocks there was still the tube which I had shoved into Tom on his first day. But towards the spine there was another hole. This one emitted a ceramic shine. When the gaze shifted upwards, one got aware of Tom's dick. But not where it used to be. Instead it protruded from his lower belly. It lay flaccid (but still longer than it used to be) on top of his abdomen. So did four 'fingers', too. On second glance they looked more like teats - which in fact they were - artificial ones, but teats. And so were the two smaller ones (but still the size of my thumbs) on his chest. They stuck out - erect and hard. Tom's head was bald. Thus Babs could clearly see a drill hole with a metallic inlay above each ear. The only hairs on his head were the brush thick and inch-long lashes protruding from his lids. They were artificial, of course, and had cost me above two hours work. A modified tattooing pistol shot hair by hair into the skin. Each 'hair', a polycarbonate fiber, came with a set of minuscule barbs and therefore anchored itself inside the top-layer of his skin. Now they were a part of his body as if naturally grown. I 'ironed' them into a nice curl as well. Now most girls would gladly die to own half of them. Babs still looked like completely frozen in place. Her mouth was agape, her eyes were glazed over in satisfaction, shock, horror and curiosity - all at the same time. Don't ask me how she did it! I nudged her out of her mental standby and said: "You ain't seen nothing yet! ..." (Don't you just love BTO for that line!?!?) "... or better you have done nothing yet! Next steps are up to you! First what would you like his breasts to be like?" Babs looked at me a bit dumbfolded. So I went over to a workbench and got the pump Louise had used on me all those months ago the first time. I plugged one of the tubes into a tiny hole in his right armpit and switched the compressor on. Immediately his right breast began to swell. Soon the erect teat stuck out from an A-cup sized mound. I switched the compressor off, handed it to Babs and nodded encouragingly to go on. She took it and after a second or two switched it back into action. His boob went from A to B and C and was soon a double-D I assumed. "Babs? Maybe you should stop here for now! For one we don't want to tear that lovely monster before he is even aware of it. Further we still have something more in store for him. And last but not least - leave a bit of room for the other breast!" Babs looked surprised and a bit taken back first, but then she nodded and switched the compressor off. I took it back and filled another gallon of oil into it. Then I shifted to the left armpit and inflated his left breast until it reached the size of the right one. After I had unplugged the tube from the armpit I reloaded the compressor a second time and then connected it to the plastic plug sticking in his new cavity. When I switched on the compressor once again it took only a few seconds and the four teats on his belly went erect - twice as thick as my index finger and just as long. His flaccid dick kept his head down and lay flat beneath them - right in the middle. As the compressor kept on running a bulge formed underneath until it looked like a birthday cake had manifested under the skin of his belly. Four candles were erect, but one had toppled over. Slowly Babs could make out the udder we intended for Tom. I switched off the compressor then. Louise meanwhile screwed two small horns into place, while I clipped a cow tag through a hole in his ear, Louise had pierced moments ago. Together with the hooves I had made and already glued on his feet the day before he was almost the cow we had in mind. I grabbed Tom under his arms and pulled him up until he more or less sat. Louise swung his legs to the left, so that they swung free from the table. Now I pulled him up all the way. Louise brought a rack onto which I lowered Tom's upper body. His hip bone and groin were supported by upholstered bars. So were his shoulders and ribcage. On the other hand his small udder with its large teats and his big breasts with the smaller teats hung free now. So did his arms left and right of the rack. We had adjusted the rack to have Tom be able to stand on his hooves as if tiptoed. Now they sampled cow hooves. They were black and split and not as round as the appeared to be at first. Now that the weight of Tom's legs pressed down on them, they slowly slid to the left and the right - leaving a wide gap between them and threatening to brake of his toes. Louise already had her smartphone ready and pressed some virtual buttons. As if moved by magic the toes and with them the hooves were drawn together, the feet went more erect and sampled those of a cow more and more. I had already fetched a cow's tail from our workbench. Of course, it was an artificial one and equipped with the latest technology Louise and I had in store. I clicked it into place in the hole with the ceramic inlay and fixed it with a small lock. Right then the tail started swaying on its own. It didn't exceed the wide of Tom's hips much if at all. Louise nodded at me. I understood and brushed his left thigh gently with my fingertips. Immediately Tom's tail flew to hit his thigh where I had touched it moments before. I did the same with his other thigh and was rewarded with the same reflex. Babs had watched us curiously but impassively for the last minutes, but now her trooper heart took over. She reached for a leg and managed to avoid the tail hitting it moments later. She teased the legs further a minute or so and her smile widened from stroke to stroke. She alternated the frequency and the sides only the find the tail following suit. Louise explained: "We connected the nerves coming from the skin of his legs to a sensor array. Thus every touch will be posted to a controlling device next to his lower spinal cord. Mike programmed the tail's logic to behave like a cow's tail would. It is swaying on idle and whipping at every 'fly' landing on his legs." Babs almost couldn't get enough. That's when Louise pressed some more buttons. The tail stopped swaying and instead lifted on its own. Just like a cow would do before dropping her load. Babs jumped back out of habit and the three of us laughed heartily before we settled for the next step. Where the plug had been some mere minutes ago, I shoved in another plug. This one was fitted with a hose and a grip. When I pushed the grip in further, a metallic click answered from the inside, telling me it was locked. Next to the hose there were two buttons. I pressed one of them and a pump hummed to life. Shortly after that a white fluid filled the hose and then Tom's udder began to swell. When I estimated about a gallon should have passed the valve, I stopped. His udder had swelled nicely and taken shape of a young cow's udder. Which was, nevertheless, huge on his small frame - small frame in comparison to a cow, of course. The four finger-long teats stood rigid as they might on a real cow with full udder. But the most intriguing part was Tom's dick. Or what used to be Tom's dick. Now it looked a bit out of place, just like a fifth teat. It would have been still flaccid, but hung down mimicking a teat now. I flickered on the other switch and more milk pressed into him. Only a few seconds later there was a barely audible dropping sound. I switched the compressor off and looked around at Tom's front. Dangling from his chest were no longer huge firm D or DD cup-sized globes, but huge melons, bazookas, warheads or whatever came to mind. Far beyond E for sure - maybe even G - they looked like huge, plump, stout balls about to bust any minute. From the relatively long teats hanging free emerged a constant but thin flow of milk. It started building drops at the tips before falling down every few seconds or so. "I herewith declare cow Tom full and ready!", I announced in mocked sincerity. Babs clapped her hands like a child at a Christmas party "oh goody goody goody..." She reached around, grabbed a glas from the workbench and milked half a glass from each of Tom's breasts. Then she lifted it to her lips - not without toasting to Louise and me. "Yammy!" She smiled like I hadn't seen her smile in days - content with herself and the world. Louise interrupted: "Now you have to decide, if Tom will be a 'four- legged' cow or a 'two-legged' one." Barbara-Ann drew a blank. "Should Tom walk on two or on all four?" I therefore explained. It didn't take long until the questioningly response: "Four?!?", emerged her throat. Louise had already some foreleg prosthesis at hand. While she attached one to Tom's right hand, I did the same at the left one. Now Tom looked like stuck halfway while becoming a werecow - half human, half cow. Louise entered some new commands. I knew from previous experience - by my own hands, so to speak - that Tom's fingers had now clawed the lining inside the prosthesis and went rigid to never let go again, if Louise didn't tell him to. All he could do now was to bend his wrists. That is if Louise allowed him to. Most of his tendons had been replaced or side- kicked with artificial ones and controlled his movements and some other bodily functions. Like in my body those artificial tendons could now be controlled with the tip of a finger and in not much more than a blink of an eye. Since I had a smartphone of my own, I was no longer completely at the mercy of Louise (although she still could override mine or render my fingers useless), but I doubted Tom would come anywhere near his own phone in the foreseeable future. Louise was tipping again and Tom went kind of rigid all over. I unplugged the milk hose from his back and then lowered the rack he was placed upon. Soon he stood on his own (or not really his own or now his own?) four feet. Louise typed once more and his tail dropped back in normal swaying mode, his hind legs took over a more cow-like stance and his forelegs followed. Last his neck was drawn upwards until he faced the wall although he was still on all four. I went back to the workbench and snatched a collar from one of the boxes the delivery boy had left me with that day before. It was not really a collar for cattle, rather one for big dogs - black with shiny spikes and wide - but it came with one of those bells as often seen on Swiss cows. Not so obvious, it hid some electronics too. A vocorder was integrated into the collar. Each noise his vocal cords would produce would be recorded, inverted and played back into his throat. Thus the amplitudes of his own and those played-back waves would erase each other, practically rendering him mute. I got that idea, when we watched a documentary about mufflers enhanced with speakers to kill exhaustion pipe noises. Additionally a second synthesizer would generate and play moos fitting the original voicing - more or less. So once clicked close around his neck he would sound just like a cow, too. (We also could turn his volume up and down and even mute him completely) Tom was still unconscious. So he was still unaware of all the things going on. His new tendons and the electronic inside his body kept him standing stable on all fours. His ridiculous big breasts and his udder were hanging free and swaying in tact with his tail. I couldn't hold out much longer. Fortunately my zunt was locked. So although my rod grew quite big and hard, it just grew big and hard inside of me. Thankfully that was invisible to Louise and Babs. But the precum started to run down and wet my inner thighs. I became really afraid the girls would smell it. Still I could no longer contain myself. I had to grope a feeling. I touched the udder and the breasts, felt the teats and weighted each plump bag with one hand. Louise brought me back. "You know, I could blow you up to that size too..." She smiled wickedly, but amused. More so, when I grew beet red. "No, thank you, Ma'am! I am just fine the way I am!" I made a little curtsey and smiled back still glowing like the proverbial roasted apple. Babs joint into our laughter. Suddenly she grew silent and serious. "What's wrong, hon?" Louise asked, before I could. Babs rolled her eyes as if looking for the right words while pushing back some tears. "You know, if I ... I wasn't ... stacked like this... " She nodded downwards. "... none of this might have happened ..." "Don't get me wrong I like my 'size', but when I work they are constantly in the way, adding weight to my shoulders and back. As if working in the barn isn't hard enough for a woman my size without... and then I have to keep up with such ... such slugs ..." Now the tears formed and she couldn't hold them back no longer. I beat Louise this time sweeping Babs in my arms and stroking her head then resting against my bosom gently. "There, there... Everything is okay! And, you know, I am sure Louise would love to help you. ... " I waited for a response, but there was no added tension in her body and no sound indicating anything stressful. Louise nodded at me as if reading my thoughts, so I continued: "... she could give you a breast reduction and even a set of inflatable implants ... " Babs head spun and looked up into my eyes. A mixture of shock, then hope, confusion and resignation shone from hers. "... like mine or ..." I twinkled, "like Tom's!" Again shock washed over her face, but right when Louise was about to scold me, Barbara-Ann snickered. "Nah, not like Tom's! I am no cow!" With that it was settled. Louise would see that Babs got a smaller size for the everyday business, so to say, and be able to inflate them back to their original size. I would be more than happy to show her my little tricks, too. But we had to focus back on Tom. While I pulled the rack back underneath him and brought it up to support his unconscious body, I thought of something obvious, we had ignored so far. "Babs, I think we can't hardly call 'him' Tom anymore! Although he still possesses his dick, kind of. He is more a cow then a bull now. I think you should have the honor to baptize 'her'!" Babs looked surprised, but then clapped her hands "Oh goodie, I always wanted to have a cow named Daisy! But mine got only numbers for accounting reasons." I was surprised again how quickly Babs could change her mood and how much she could sound like an excited pre-school kid, when she had been in a really sad one mere seconds before. But maybe that was what Louise loved about her and I started to enjoy it, too. "So Daisy it is. Hereby I name you Daisy!" While Babs mimicked a priest she sprayed some of Tom's ... now Daisy's milk onto his forehead. The 'official' part done I wheeled Tom into the room I had woken up in as a bitch all those weeks ago. It felt like an eternity if not another lifetime away now. Once there I lifted Daisy off the rack and onto a mattress. We had placed one on a low set of boxes in case Babs decided on four legs for Daisy. Thus Daisy could get up and down without our help. With her boobs it would be hard for her to lie on her belly and thus to get up like a normal cow would. Nevertheless what we felt towards Tom, we had chosen a soft-lining covered mattress. We didn't want to get Daisy's stretched skin of her newly accomplished breasts and udder to get raw. I laid her onto her side keeping an eye out not to squish one of her many teats underneath her. Except for her former dick they were all artificial ones, but Louise didn't miss the chance to connect sensory pads and electrodes to real nerves. As we had her now Daisy could not straighten her hindlegs to align with her spine. Louise had restricted Daisy's movements to those of a cow as well, when she made her hands hold onto the foreleg prosthesis. The tendons would see to that. Further they would also enable her otherwise too weak muscles to carry her own weight as any other cow could. Louise, Babs and I left the basement 'shed' and went upstairs. We had something to eat, which I prepared. I am a much better cook now, since I do almost all of our meals and I like cooking. It is relaxing, mind- numbing, recreational and creative all at the same time. Anyway, Louise and I opted for some salad and cottage cheese, Babs got some steak and potatoes. After that long sleep she still required a good energy- providing meal. Later Louise went into her study, Babs into her bed and I drove off to groom the farms. While I was there I got another great idea. Though I stopped at a mall on my way home and went straight down to pay Daisy a visit as soon as I was back. She was still out and I knew she would be for at least another eight hours. Thus I used the phone app to get her out of the 'hay' and standing. Next I retrieved the things I had bought and began my work. Not long after that Daisy was covered in a distinct black and white pattern and had some white ruffled hair clued between her horns. I had used a permanent skin dye everywhere beside her udder and her breasts. Now those stuck out a nice rosy tone. So did the tip of her nose. At last I spread-opened her eyelids and placed a pair of theatrical contact lenses underneath. Since they were all black and almost an inch in diameter they covered the entire eye and left no white visible. Now she looked perfect cow-girl to me - okay the (adult) comic version, not the rodeo version. I shortly thought about laying her back down, but then I was afraid to smear the dye in case it had not settled in completely yet. So I left her standing and sleeping. All done I went to our bed, where Louise was already waiting for me. She had been reading. Sadly when I climbed next to her, I fell asleep almost before my head hit the pillow. I felt her hand gently brush my nipples and squeeze my breasts. But that was already through thick mist in my mind when I drifted into dreamland. My dreams that night were strange. First I was a calf and drinking from Tom's giant breasts dangling in front of me, while I was dwarfed by that huge cow. Then I grew into a cow myself and now Tom was suckling at my udder. Somehow he unlocked my zunt and released Mr. Mike, before he suckled and milked me there for all it was worth. My heart raced. I threw my head to the sides and against the pillow. My mouth was silently screaming and gasping for air. That's how I woke up. With Louise, that little minx, positioned between my legs and her lips engulfing mini-me. Shortly I saw a wicked glint in her eyes albeit the darkness in the room, before I passed out from unbearable lust, excitement and release washing over me. ***** May 21st This morning I woke up battered and weak. But this time it was not from drugs - at least not from such produced outside of my brain. Louise was curled against my chest and had snuggled close by slipping under my arm. A happy, but still wicked smile lay proof, that my memories were memories instead of dreams. When I tried to move my arm Louise snarled and crouched closer without waking up. So I waited a few minutes before slipping out of the bed gently. Louise rolled over and slung her body around another pillow while I pulled a cover over her. When I reached the bathroom in my mules my eyes caught my reflection and my sleepy brain had to rush a few seconds to adjust my self-image of some thirty years to the image in the huge wall-mounted mirror. The mules were out of place. Above there were familiar looking legs - but appearing slimmer and longer due to the high heels. From the strangely bare groin hung the familiar member, while a fluffy tail swayed and curled underneath from between my legs. As if not strange enough slipped my gaze further up over the eight perfectly rounded breasts and their perky little nipples. My arms - although not as muscular as they used to be - looked ordinary to me.