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- Mar 14, 2019
Greeting's Bluemoon roleplayers I've got an idea for a new RP I'm really into at the moment. So. To keep it short so you can read all the ideas I have prepared below I'll try to get all the details about me fleshed out here.
Let's rock everybody, let's rock Everybody in the whole cell block Was dancin' to the Jailhouse Rock!"
"Bradley Louis Jr, will you keep that racket down?!"
The young man, with his slicked back hair and leather jacket, dances in his bedroom with little care or interest. Boomers across the nation dance and jive to the new, revolutionary change in music, and it wasn't the only revolution in this year. The mother continues to shout and shout, but finds herself frustrated with the lack of response. She was lucky, really. Though her husband died during the War, she was still blessed to have two beautiful children, an older daughter and son, respectively, and still looked damn good for her age. Life continued, peacefully, with no issue at all. Just ten years ago, it felt the world was at the brink of destruction, but now, humanity had finally arrived at Utopia. There was always a cost to such a deal though. A cost that took ten years to come into effect, and one that would begin today
"Reports announce tha-"
"Studies across the country have shown-"
"Mothers, whatever you do, do NOT let your daughters out of your home!-
"IT'S THE END OF ALL TIMES!"
Marie never was one to watch the Television box, not with so much work around, and the news was even less interesting. But day soon turned to night, and as soon as her son left the house, she began to feel... Strange. She had felt this way all day, but was just too focused and busy to realize what was happening to her. She began to feel her hands move all over her body. Now that was strange. It felt good. Very good. And her clothes, God, they felt so restrictive all of a sudden, so strangely tight and even unpleasant. She stripped off quickly in the living room, it wasn't like anyone was going to come in for a while.
Her hands began to slide and depart, one over to her buxom breasts, the other gently rubbing against her now soaking cunt. Why had she never tried this before? Why, of course, she was curious, but she was a good Christian woman and a widow. It was so impure to be doing such things, and yet, she couldn't stop herself. It felt better with each passing moment, her body was becoming hotter, her breaths heavier and heavier and heavier, her fingers, dripping with excitement were now penetrating her mouth with passion and lust. And to top it all off, her breasts began to leak, heavily, milk practically shooting out everywhere, it was so indecent, but felt better than anything she had ever experienced in her life, yes, even sex.
It felt good... And now she wanted more.
Ring ring, Ring ring!
"Hi, Willy, it's me, Marie! Say, you're not doing anything are you? I need some help with some... things..."
Marie didn't realize it then, you see, but she was diseased. 90% of the female population across the Earth were now diseased.*
Bovinian Infectus
And so screams the voice of Charlotte Deloux. The most prominent Beatnik of all of Tinseltown. Dressed in that distinctive, almost uniform-like outfit of a black and white striped T-shirt, tight blue jeans and Converse sneakers, she stood out like a sore thumb from the dolled up and brain dead housewives of the valley, each one in their little polka dot dresses and looking like something straight out of a Campbell's advert.
"Squares," she thought to herself, not realizing she may very well be spending some shoulder to shoulder time with these girls, and for who knows well, too.
"Oh be quiet! From the looks of it, the ink's not the only one dripping all over the place!" An older woman cries behind her, looking like some long long Hollywood star, true B-star material. And it was true. When Charlotte looked down at her breasts, they were leaking, again. It would be more humiliating, but the fact it was happening to so many women, and all at once, made her feel that at least it wasn't her problem alone. Not to mention the fact that she had never been pregnant in her life. And yet, her breasts were beginning to swell, and her mind was becoming overtaken by the thought of fucking, being milked, and worse of all, being bred. Urgh, kids! Who the hell would want those brats. And yet... Her thoughts. She couldn't stop them. They were becoming deeply overwhelming, they all were, for all of them.
The long row of ladies, around 200 of them or so, were lined up and walked into a community center, where a large projectile screen was played before them. Each sat down with an equal sense of nervousness, frustration, curiosity, and fear. The screen begins to light up with the image of a doctor, smiling, his arms places together before pointing to a chart to his side.
"Hello," the man on the screen spoke with an academic and strong mid-Atlantic accent.
"My name is Doctor Octav. Now, you're probably wondering why you're here? You're not alone. Across the entire country, and the world, all women are beginning to experience similar, strange phenomena. Lactation."
He quickly flips the chart and points his stick at the center. The words show up. Bovinian Infectus. Everyone soon began to call it 'the Bo'.
"Now the good news is that the effects of the disease can be controlled by daily medicine and that the side effects won't affect your life in any serious negative way, not for the most part anyway. A short explanation is that the disease was airborne some time ago, but is now genetic. As said, most women now carry the disease, but not all show symptoms. Only 10% of women are immune."
The look around the room was... Dismayed. Many people didn't seem too happy with this result. Diseased? They were now diseased? And the offer of daily medicine didn't seem to help. It wasn't a solution. It wasn't a cure.
"The disease affects your hormonal levels, essentially, bringing them above the normal amount and into levels that were once thought impossible. Side effects will include daily lactation, growth of the secondary sex characteristics, and an increased... um... sex drive."
Despite the changes in the world, in technology and science, the culture was still the same. No one wanted to talk about sex, still, but now, people may have to. The smell of the room was overpowering, and the security guards, all male, well, looked quite happy to be there, to say the least.
"Our top scientists are working on a cure as we speak, as for now, you shall be evaluated by your doctor to assess your needs and desires. Thank you, women, of America, for baring with your current condition during this troublesome time, and we can only hope you get well soon."
The video quickly ends, as though the doctor is in a hurry not interested in this "Show" of sorts.
Thus 24th of February infamously became known as M-Day. Milk Day.
"Please, Doctor, you gotta help me! I love my babydoll, but she's out of control! I haven't had an hour of sleep in two days! I think she's broken one of my ribs or broke my penis, fuck, I can't even cum anymore, she's drained everything out of me! And now... Now she wants me to go back home for more!"
One young man, who was violently tearing his hair from his stressed head in a moment of insanity. It had seemed the thing men finally wanted had come, and they were scared. It was too much, the full power of female sexuality was unleashed on the world! Finally, thought Charlotte. It seemed like a dream come true, in a way. A society stripped away of its conservative ideals, a world of free love and the acknowledgment of how good sex truly was. The 'squares'would certainly be in for a shock now.
But that didn't change her condition. Stumbling into the Doctors, holding her breasts in pain, she winces.
"You gotta give me those meds, Doctor. I'm dying out here, man~!!" She complains in her hipster way of talking, one of the first of their kind. The Doctor, an elderly fellow of Greek descent, sighed for a moment as he sat down and took a look at the chart, but only for details. Luckily, she was a regular, though not one he preferred to see.
"Of course, Miss Deloux, take off your shirt..." He says in a tired and frustrated tone of voice. Most men would be pleading for such an option, but now, it seemed like men wanted the opposite for a world. A strange world indeed. Charlotte lifts her milk-stained top, revealing her braless breasts, around D cups or so. Except, they were C cups yesterday. The old man offered up two pills and a glass of water, as she drank it quickly, before instructing her on some forms of help.
"Now, this is going to sound strange, but you're going to have to massage and relief your breasts and induce yourself into a state of total lactation. I know as someone who has never had children this may be a strange sensation at first, but you'll feel a lot better for doing it. You don't have to do it here, however, I understand the desire for privacy."
Charlotte took off as soon as she came in, desperate to relieve herself. Bursting into her cramped studio apartment in the Hollywood Hills, she did exactly that. And for hours. And hours. And hours. Just milking herself, again and againand again. It felt wonderful, the best thing she had ever felt for a long time. This... This could get addictive.
One man, standing, sweating in the summer heat, places a pamphlet down on the table, before bringing up a projection screen once more.
"I know what we are proposing may be difficult for some of you gentlemen, especially those with wives and daughters..." The tall, skinny bald man began, his arm firmly planted on the table desk to the side, as though trying to sleep for just a few seconds...
"But order must be returned to the country at any cost, and we must find a way to... control this problem, by any means."
The man looked grim, but more so out of sheer exhaustion than anything else. No doubt his wife had been 'bothering' him much like many other's were. For the young men in society, it was great, heaven even! But these old timers...they couldn't handle it. Their wives, all middle-aged or older, had suddenly gained the youthful lust of a teenager in a matter of days. Even their looks reverted. From wrinkled skin to smooth maternal skin worthy of any experienced matron.
The men began to open the pamphlet, one that will be sent to every single home in America, no- the whole world if needed. Homes with females, of course. It begins with:
"The Five Stages of Bovinian Disease"
"20%"
"Jesus..."
They continue to read.
"Yes. And with an uncontrolled sex drive, they will begin to hurt others during sex too, perhaps even out of it, if unintentionally."
"Indeed" the Doctor replied. "May God help us all."
They say there are six types of women now, across the world, now unofficially organizing a hierarchy of sorts, forming in the wake of the old one. The kind of life you lived could now be determined by what stage of the disease you were at. Truth be told, it isn't necessarily a case of your life being worse if you're in a high and more advanced stage of the disease, just different, that's all.
As a whole, most women at Stage II, III, IV, and V were unable to work, thus opening a huge space in the employment sector for jobs as a whole. Surprisingly, the economy did better, not worse, and a slight rise in tax (jokingly called the 'Cow Tax') could support these victims in many ways, but more on that later. Don't even get me started on the black market for 'Cows' either. Some people can be so cruel, so heartless, to kidnap or trick women into work, or worse, a cure, only to have them work as 'Hucows' or whores in so-called Milk Bars. It was a dark and dangerous side of this new society, and one many didn't seem to care to fix.
First, there are the 'No Symptoms' or simply called the "Nosymps'', often as a remark because they also had no sympathy either for the more 'degenerated' victims. These women lived a more, shall we say, blessed life. A normal life, really, though they always, always had to be careful when it came to having kids. Indeed, it's sad, but many people feared to have females out right. And Nosymps weren't at the top of society, oh no, that's the Healthy Females. There was no name for them, they simply were immune. Overnight, homeless, but immune, females received huge amounts of money from the government in order to continue having healthy, 'pure' children. Many are protected by government bodyguards at all times, others were given new houses, free education, and so on.
The irony? Those were formerly rich and powerful were just as powerless as the Stage Twos and beyond. The 'Twobees', as they were informally known. 40% of the infected population, and therefore 30% of the female population as well, these women also lived normal lives, for the most part. One got the sense, however, that they were stigmatized, somewhat, and loved in equal measure. Indeed, the disease skewered former beauty standards into a new one, and one paid great attention to the girl in class who suddenly double her breast size overnight. Twobeesare always at risk of degenerating, however, and must take medicine daily.
Ah, Stage 3s. Somewhere between madness and sanity. These unfortunate fuckers were almost always constantly plagued by the thoughts of sex, and being unable to be relieved', both sexually and being milked, could prove quite painful for them. It is as the start of Stage 3, you see, where the government, private businesses and hospitals begin to take more control in their welfare. 'Farming Resorts', they were called, as if to add insult to injury. Huge sways of lands of farms where these troubled girls could live, peacefully, away from the cruel eyes of society. They would often work or help in some way in order to do something fulfilling with their lives between, you know, all the fucking. There was even rumors that said Stage 3s would be milked, like cows, and the milk would be sold for a high amount of money, but that sounds too outlandish even for this new world.
Stage 4s. This is where the Cowgirl comparisons were beginning to become true. Horns would begin to grow, as well as tails, and these kinds of girls would be sent to Labs and Hospitals, not the beautiful landscape of a farm, but a place to be studied and controlled. It was probably for the best. Said girls could barely control their urges now, their minds mostly gone, shattered, in a way, and they were only concerned with their carnal desires.
Stage 5s: Cows. Well, no. More like the mythical Minotaur, in a sense. Huge horns, tails, even fur on their body, and so so strong too. It's a shame, if they could keep track of their minds, they would actually make great workers. But no, the sexuality they become so obsessed by soon becomes fixated on others. They purposely begin to attack and rape others out of desperation, just like an animal. These beings are kept in 'Reservations' essential, huge acres of lands, bordered up, and left alone. Some say, however, that these beasts will soon take over the Earth. God knows how fearful it would be if one could use their brains for something other than fucking, they would be unstoppable.
In this world, there are many stories to tell. The story of the wife, struggling to contain her sexual desires for long. Or the girl who works at a 'legal' Milk Bar part time? This is still a world of struggling ideals, especially ones of rights. Will women continue to fight for equality? Or let the disease ravage them? Do we find ourselves in a story of romance in the mountains and farms of the world? Or a dark one of cruel and twisted love?
Hey there, thanks for reading the massive wall of text above of me! Hope I didn't rattle on for too long.
TL;DR: 1950s America (Other continents, or different time perhaps 2000's is an option too.) is ravaged by a disease that turn women into Hucows! The diseases progresses in stages, and each stage of the disease is treated differently. For some, medicine alone works, and these girls must learn to live in a new society, perhaps a more sexualized and lenient one? Or a more sexist one. For others, the disease becomes too hard for them to live with, and they seek out peace at Farming Resorts. For some, it's peaceful heaven to spend the rest of their days, much like a monastery, except with more fucking and milking. But some may be a little dark. Speaking of dark, Black Market, anyone? Hucow sex slaves are desired greatly for their body, their milk and their huge sexual appetite, making them easy to train. Stage 4s are near mad and kept in labs and asylum, and Stage 5 is to GO EVEN FURTHER and basically become full-on minotaur girls, yay!
I'd love to hear your ideas for stories, roles, and so on! I will note now that I don't have a problem playing someone dominant or submissive. I had ideas for romance and cruel bad ends alike so whatever tickles you fancy! I'll gladly share my ideas once We do talk via PM's message system after I'm sure that We click writing wise and kink-wise.
THE BIG FAT WALL OF KINKS
Body Mod, Scat, Piss, Latex (You get big big bonus points for being a rubber lover!), BDSM, Rape, Incest, Beastiality, Hole Stretching, Pregnancy, Breeding, Heavy Bondage, Predicament Bondage, Group Sex, Sexual Torture, Slutty Outfits, Uniforms, Exhaustion, Huge Insertions, Sci-Fi/Fantasy Elements, Whips, Canes, Floggings, Spankings, Tattoos, Piercings, Branding, Sensory Depravation (Blindfold, Gags, Headphones, Nose Plugs etc), Hucow, Ponyplay, Bimbo, Objectification/Forniphilia, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Consensual, Willing Submission, Resistance, Diapers, Mind Break, Unrealistic Body Proportions, Femdom, Cum Play, Scentplay, Drugs, Forced Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, Fisting, Tit Fucks, Lactation, Strap-Ons (Female partners), Furry, Alien, Monster, Transformation, Face Fucking, Body Worship, Big Asses, Big Tits, Big Cocks, Tall Characters, Shortstacks, Sissification, Futa, Feminisation, Castration, Sex Toys, Humiliation, Degradation, Verbal Abuse, Electro-Stimulation, Nipple Clamps, Pegs, Tit Torture, Sexism, DD/lg, Breath Control, Footplay, Spit, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Filming/Streaming, Petplay, Gender TF, Twincest, Hypnosis, Cock Worship, Smegma, Foreskin Play, Surgical Amputation, Urethral Insertion, Nipple Penetration, Cervical Penetration, Punishment & Reinforcement, Harapan, Sleep play, Excessive Cum, Free Use, Sexuality Play and others shared via my PM.
Other than that, I really hope to hear from some people soon! <3
- I don't know if I can consider myself as someone literate. I enjoy longer messages rather than one-liners. Three paragraphs being the minimum.
- Kinkwise I think I'm allowed to say I'm limitless. My RP ideas should show that I'm into a variety of things and that there's a repetitive pattern to it.
- Honestly, that's all, for now, I'll probably change up this thread a little but now I simply don't know where to start.
Chicago, Illiniois, U.S.A
23rd of August, 1957
"The warden threw a party in the county jail The prison band was there and they began to wail The band was jumpin' and the joint began to swing You should've heard them knocked-out jailbirds singLet's rock everybody, let's rock Everybody in the whole cell block Was dancin' to the Jailhouse Rock!"
"Bradley Louis Jr, will you keep that racket down?!"
The young man, with his slicked back hair and leather jacket, dances in his bedroom with little care or interest. Boomers across the nation dance and jive to the new, revolutionary change in music, and it wasn't the only revolution in this year. The mother continues to shout and shout, but finds herself frustrated with the lack of response. She was lucky, really. Though her husband died during the War, she was still blessed to have two beautiful children, an older daughter and son, respectively, and still looked damn good for her age. Life continued, peacefully, with no issue at all. Just ten years ago, it felt the world was at the brink of destruction, but now, humanity had finally arrived at Utopia. There was always a cost to such a deal though. A cost that took ten years to come into effect, and one that would begin today
"Reports announce tha-"
"Studies across the country have shown-"
"Mothers, whatever you do, do NOT let your daughters out of your home!-
"IT'S THE END OF ALL TIMES!"
Marie never was one to watch the Television box, not with so much work around, and the news was even less interesting. But day soon turned to night, and as soon as her son left the house, she began to feel... Strange. She had felt this way all day, but was just too focused and busy to realize what was happening to her. She began to feel her hands move all over her body. Now that was strange. It felt good. Very good. And her clothes, God, they felt so restrictive all of a sudden, so strangely tight and even unpleasant. She stripped off quickly in the living room, it wasn't like anyone was going to come in for a while.
Her hands began to slide and depart, one over to her buxom breasts, the other gently rubbing against her now soaking cunt. Why had she never tried this before? Why, of course, she was curious, but she was a good Christian woman and a widow. It was so impure to be doing such things, and yet, she couldn't stop herself. It felt better with each passing moment, her body was becoming hotter, her breaths heavier and heavier and heavier, her fingers, dripping with excitement were now penetrating her mouth with passion and lust. And to top it all off, her breasts began to leak, heavily, milk practically shooting out everywhere, it was so indecent, but felt better than anything she had ever experienced in her life, yes, even sex.
It felt good... And now she wanted more.
Ring ring, Ring ring!
"Hi, Willy, it's me, Marie! Say, you're not doing anything are you? I need some help with some... things..."
Marie didn't realize it then, you see, but she was diseased. 90% of the female population across the Earth were now diseased.*
Bovinian Infectus
Los Angeles, California, U.S.A
24th of August, 1957
"Is this going to take much longer? I got to get back to my studio, my ink is dripping all over the place!"And so screams the voice of Charlotte Deloux. The most prominent Beatnik of all of Tinseltown. Dressed in that distinctive, almost uniform-like outfit of a black and white striped T-shirt, tight blue jeans and Converse sneakers, she stood out like a sore thumb from the dolled up and brain dead housewives of the valley, each one in their little polka dot dresses and looking like something straight out of a Campbell's advert.
"Squares," she thought to herself, not realizing she may very well be spending some shoulder to shoulder time with these girls, and for who knows well, too.
"Oh be quiet! From the looks of it, the ink's not the only one dripping all over the place!" An older woman cries behind her, looking like some long long Hollywood star, true B-star material. And it was true. When Charlotte looked down at her breasts, they were leaking, again. It would be more humiliating, but the fact it was happening to so many women, and all at once, made her feel that at least it wasn't her problem alone. Not to mention the fact that she had never been pregnant in her life. And yet, her breasts were beginning to swell, and her mind was becoming overtaken by the thought of fucking, being milked, and worse of all, being bred. Urgh, kids! Who the hell would want those brats. And yet... Her thoughts. She couldn't stop them. They were becoming deeply overwhelming, they all were, for all of them.
The long row of ladies, around 200 of them or so, were lined up and walked into a community center, where a large projectile screen was played before them. Each sat down with an equal sense of nervousness, frustration, curiosity, and fear. The screen begins to light up with the image of a doctor, smiling, his arms places together before pointing to a chart to his side.
"Hello," the man on the screen spoke with an academic and strong mid-Atlantic accent.
"My name is Doctor Octav. Now, you're probably wondering why you're here? You're not alone. Across the entire country, and the world, all women are beginning to experience similar, strange phenomena. Lactation."
He quickly flips the chart and points his stick at the center. The words show up. Bovinian Infectus. Everyone soon began to call it 'the Bo'.
"Now the good news is that the effects of the disease can be controlled by daily medicine and that the side effects won't affect your life in any serious negative way, not for the most part anyway. A short explanation is that the disease was airborne some time ago, but is now genetic. As said, most women now carry the disease, but not all show symptoms. Only 10% of women are immune."
The look around the room was... Dismayed. Many people didn't seem too happy with this result. Diseased? They were now diseased? And the offer of daily medicine didn't seem to help. It wasn't a solution. It wasn't a cure.
"The disease affects your hormonal levels, essentially, bringing them above the normal amount and into levels that were once thought impossible. Side effects will include daily lactation, growth of the secondary sex characteristics, and an increased... um... sex drive."
Despite the changes in the world, in technology and science, the culture was still the same. No one wanted to talk about sex, still, but now, people may have to. The smell of the room was overpowering, and the security guards, all male, well, looked quite happy to be there, to say the least.
"Our top scientists are working on a cure as we speak, as for now, you shall be evaluated by your doctor to assess your needs and desires. Thank you, women, of America, for baring with your current condition during this troublesome time, and we can only hope you get well soon."
The video quickly ends, as though the doctor is in a hurry not interested in this "Show" of sorts.
Thus 24th of February infamously became known as M-Day. Milk Day.
Burbank, California, U.S.A
25h of August, 1957
The doctors were a mess, both literally and figuratively. Breast milk. Everywhere. Women of all ages swarmed every doctor they could find, and truth be told, the doctors simply couldn't handle it. There were no two ways about this, this was an epidemic. Men filled the doctors too. They didn't suffer any effects, but there certainly were effects. Shattered pelvises. Husbands and boyfriends begging for the medicine to put their partners to sleep, if just for an hour or two. These weren't men who were coming in for a cold. These were men who had become damaged, exhausted or simply couldn't handle the amount of sex their partners needed."Please, Doctor, you gotta help me! I love my babydoll, but she's out of control! I haven't had an hour of sleep in two days! I think she's broken one of my ribs or broke my penis, fuck, I can't even cum anymore, she's drained everything out of me! And now... Now she wants me to go back home for more!"
One young man, who was violently tearing his hair from his stressed head in a moment of insanity. It had seemed the thing men finally wanted had come, and they were scared. It was too much, the full power of female sexuality was unleashed on the world! Finally, thought Charlotte. It seemed like a dream come true, in a way. A society stripped away of its conservative ideals, a world of free love and the acknowledgment of how good sex truly was. The 'squares'would certainly be in for a shock now.
But that didn't change her condition. Stumbling into the Doctors, holding her breasts in pain, she winces.
"You gotta give me those meds, Doctor. I'm dying out here, man~!!" She complains in her hipster way of talking, one of the first of their kind. The Doctor, an elderly fellow of Greek descent, sighed for a moment as he sat down and took a look at the chart, but only for details. Luckily, she was a regular, though not one he preferred to see.
"Of course, Miss Deloux, take off your shirt..." He says in a tired and frustrated tone of voice. Most men would be pleading for such an option, but now, it seemed like men wanted the opposite for a world. A strange world indeed. Charlotte lifts her milk-stained top, revealing her braless breasts, around D cups or so. Except, they were C cups yesterday. The old man offered up two pills and a glass of water, as she drank it quickly, before instructing her on some forms of help.
"Now, this is going to sound strange, but you're going to have to massage and relief your breasts and induce yourself into a state of total lactation. I know as someone who has never had children this may be a strange sensation at first, but you'll feel a lot better for doing it. You don't have to do it here, however, I understand the desire for privacy."
Charlotte took off as soon as she came in, desperate to relieve herself. Bursting into her cramped studio apartment in the Hollywood Hills, she did exactly that. And for hours. And hours. And hours. Just milking herself, again and againand again. It felt wonderful, the best thing she had ever felt for a long time. This... This could get addictive.
New York, New York, U.S.A
26th of August
The streets run wild in the bohemian parts of town with the sounds of wild, horny beasts and the flowing of various sexual liquids. Fucking on the streets. No one thought it could come to this, but it did. Anarchy. It had only taken the country two days, but when half of that population is sex mad, and men are only to happy to oblige, people quickly decide to enjoy themselves the best they can. Even the god damn riot police weren't too much help, they would only join in! Watching on this perverted display before was a group of medical experts, government officials and military men alike, all holstered high in their castle in the sky, as though judging like the miserable old bastards they were. Though in all fairness, their attempts today would be one that would help bring order back to the world. But it would be a strange new world...One man, standing, sweating in the summer heat, places a pamphlet down on the table, before bringing up a projection screen once more.
"I know what we are proposing may be difficult for some of you gentlemen, especially those with wives and daughters..." The tall, skinny bald man began, his arm firmly planted on the table desk to the side, as though trying to sleep for just a few seconds...
"But order must be returned to the country at any cost, and we must find a way to... control this problem, by any means."
The man looked grim, but more so out of sheer exhaustion than anything else. No doubt his wife had been 'bothering' him much like many other's were. For the young men in society, it was great, heaven even! But these old timers...they couldn't handle it. Their wives, all middle-aged or older, had suddenly gained the youthful lust of a teenager in a matter of days. Even their looks reverted. From wrinkled skin to smooth maternal skin worthy of any experienced matron.
The men began to open the pamphlet, one that will be sent to every single home in America, no- the whole world if needed. Homes with females, of course. It begins with:
"The Five Stages of Bovinian Disease"
Stage I: No symptoms shown of the disease, but all victims will be a carrier of the disease which will spread to female offspring. No medication needed.
"How much of the female population in the country are stage one?" Asks a tired looking General."20%"
"Jesus..."
They continue to read.
Stage II: Symptoms beginning to show and become regular. Increased moderate size in breasts (around three cups in bras size), buttocks and hips, rejuvenation of blood, skin and other types of cells bringing back the youthful and middle-aged appearance, daily lactations that do not need to be relived so strongly, increased sex drives that can be regulated and controlled by medicine. If the victim does not take their medicine, the disease will gradually become more severe.
Stage III: Symptoms becoming more extreme. Victim at a near high rate of sex drive, capable of other thoughts and actions but will need to be on heavy dosage. Secondary sexual characteristics increase substantially, sometimes by eight cups in bra size. The victim also begins to become taller and generally bigger all over, as well as stronger, the muscle density and mass increasing. Breasts will swell in pain if not relieved regularly.
"So you're telling me these girls are becoming stronger?" The general quips again, sounding almost annoyed."Yes. And with an uncontrolled sex drive, they will begin to hurt others during sex too, perhaps even out of it, if unintentionally."
Stage IV: Victim at a constant state of arousal and high sex drive, struggling to be capable of other thoughts or actions, a diminishment in intelligence as a result. Victims at this stage will begin to grow to heights of 6ft on average, higher if the victim was already taller. Breast, buttocks and hips size will become abnormally large. Lactation will be near constant. Small appendages will begin to grow on the victim's body, including a tail above their behind, and small horns on their foreheads. Some reports claim the appearance of cells and genetic code being rewritten during this stage, causing the additional growth of male genitals.
By now, the government officials, the doctors, and the military were beginning to look more shocked than before, not brave enough to say a single word, if they can't help it. Horns? Tails? They were turning into beasts. No one wanted to admit it, but it was true.Stage V: Victim is not only constantly aroused and with a high sex drive, but very aggressive too and will hunt down victims to rape. Intelligence greatly diminished to that of a Stone Age hunter mentality, almost animalistic. Heights will continue to grow to 7ft, perhaps even higher, and body mass will increase, a mixture of high body fat and muscle will lead to even greater strength. Breast, buttocks and hips size will go past what is not passable for a human. Horns will grow to a life-threatening size, the tail will be fully formed and fur may even begin to grow on the victim's body.
"My god...""Indeed" the Doctor replied. "May God help us all."
They say there are six types of women now, across the world, now unofficially organizing a hierarchy of sorts, forming in the wake of the old one. The kind of life you lived could now be determined by what stage of the disease you were at. Truth be told, it isn't necessarily a case of your life being worse if you're in a high and more advanced stage of the disease, just different, that's all.
As a whole, most women at Stage II, III, IV, and V were unable to work, thus opening a huge space in the employment sector for jobs as a whole. Surprisingly, the economy did better, not worse, and a slight rise in tax (jokingly called the 'Cow Tax') could support these victims in many ways, but more on that later. Don't even get me started on the black market for 'Cows' either. Some people can be so cruel, so heartless, to kidnap or trick women into work, or worse, a cure, only to have them work as 'Hucows' or whores in so-called Milk Bars. It was a dark and dangerous side of this new society, and one many didn't seem to care to fix.
First, there are the 'No Symptoms' or simply called the "Nosymps'', often as a remark because they also had no sympathy either for the more 'degenerated' victims. These women lived a more, shall we say, blessed life. A normal life, really, though they always, always had to be careful when it came to having kids. Indeed, it's sad, but many people feared to have females out right. And Nosymps weren't at the top of society, oh no, that's the Healthy Females. There was no name for them, they simply were immune. Overnight, homeless, but immune, females received huge amounts of money from the government in order to continue having healthy, 'pure' children. Many are protected by government bodyguards at all times, others were given new houses, free education, and so on.
The irony? Those were formerly rich and powerful were just as powerless as the Stage Twos and beyond. The 'Twobees', as they were informally known. 40% of the infected population, and therefore 30% of the female population as well, these women also lived normal lives, for the most part. One got the sense, however, that they were stigmatized, somewhat, and loved in equal measure. Indeed, the disease skewered former beauty standards into a new one, and one paid great attention to the girl in class who suddenly double her breast size overnight. Twobeesare always at risk of degenerating, however, and must take medicine daily.
Ah, Stage 3s. Somewhere between madness and sanity. These unfortunate fuckers were almost always constantly plagued by the thoughts of sex, and being unable to be relieved', both sexually and being milked, could prove quite painful for them. It is as the start of Stage 3, you see, where the government, private businesses and hospitals begin to take more control in their welfare. 'Farming Resorts', they were called, as if to add insult to injury. Huge sways of lands of farms where these troubled girls could live, peacefully, away from the cruel eyes of society. They would often work or help in some way in order to do something fulfilling with their lives between, you know, all the fucking. There was even rumors that said Stage 3s would be milked, like cows, and the milk would be sold for a high amount of money, but that sounds too outlandish even for this new world.
Stage 4s. This is where the Cowgirl comparisons were beginning to become true. Horns would begin to grow, as well as tails, and these kinds of girls would be sent to Labs and Hospitals, not the beautiful landscape of a farm, but a place to be studied and controlled. It was probably for the best. Said girls could barely control their urges now, their minds mostly gone, shattered, in a way, and they were only concerned with their carnal desires.
Stage 5s: Cows. Well, no. More like the mythical Minotaur, in a sense. Huge horns, tails, even fur on their body, and so so strong too. It's a shame, if they could keep track of their minds, they would actually make great workers. But no, the sexuality they become so obsessed by soon becomes fixated on others. They purposely begin to attack and rape others out of desperation, just like an animal. These beings are kept in 'Reservations' essential, huge acres of lands, bordered up, and left alone. Some say, however, that these beasts will soon take over the Earth. God knows how fearful it would be if one could use their brains for something other than fucking, they would be unstoppable.
In this world, there are many stories to tell. The story of the wife, struggling to contain her sexual desires for long. Or the girl who works at a 'legal' Milk Bar part time? This is still a world of struggling ideals, especially ones of rights. Will women continue to fight for equality? Or let the disease ravage them? Do we find ourselves in a story of romance in the mountains and farms of the world? Or a dark one of cruel and twisted love?
Hey there, thanks for reading the massive wall of text above of me! Hope I didn't rattle on for too long.
TL;DR: 1950s America (Other continents, or different time perhaps 2000's is an option too.) is ravaged by a disease that turn women into Hucows! The diseases progresses in stages, and each stage of the disease is treated differently. For some, medicine alone works, and these girls must learn to live in a new society, perhaps a more sexualized and lenient one? Or a more sexist one. For others, the disease becomes too hard for them to live with, and they seek out peace at Farming Resorts. For some, it's peaceful heaven to spend the rest of their days, much like a monastery, except with more fucking and milking. But some may be a little dark. Speaking of dark, Black Market, anyone? Hucow sex slaves are desired greatly for their body, their milk and their huge sexual appetite, making them easy to train. Stage 4s are near mad and kept in labs and asylum, and Stage 5 is to GO EVEN FURTHER and basically become full-on minotaur girls, yay!
I'd love to hear your ideas for stories, roles, and so on! I will note now that I don't have a problem playing someone dominant or submissive. I had ideas for romance and cruel bad ends alike so whatever tickles you fancy! I'll gladly share my ideas once We do talk via PM's message system after I'm sure that We click writing wise and kink-wise.
THE BIG FAT WALL OF KINKS
Body Mod, Scat, Piss, Latex (You get big big bonus points for being a rubber lover!), BDSM, Rape, Incest, Beastiality, Hole Stretching, Pregnancy, Breeding, Heavy Bondage, Predicament Bondage, Group Sex, Sexual Torture, Slutty Outfits, Uniforms, Exhaustion, Huge Insertions, Sci-Fi/Fantasy Elements, Whips, Canes, Floggings, Spankings, Tattoos, Piercings, Branding, Sensory Depravation (Blindfold, Gags, Headphones, Nose Plugs etc), Hucow, Ponyplay, Bimbo, Objectification/Forniphilia, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Consensual, Willing Submission, Resistance, Diapers, Mind Break, Unrealistic Body Proportions, Femdom, Cum Play, Scentplay, Drugs, Forced Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, Fisting, Tit Fucks, Lactation, Strap-Ons (Female partners), Furry, Alien, Monster, Transformation, Face Fucking, Body Worship, Big Asses, Big Tits, Big Cocks, Tall Characters, Shortstacks, Sissification, Futa, Feminisation, Castration, Sex Toys, Humiliation, Degradation, Verbal Abuse, Electro-Stimulation, Nipple Clamps, Pegs, Tit Torture, Sexism, DD/lg, Breath Control, Footplay, Spit, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Filming/Streaming, Petplay, Gender TF, Twincest, Hypnosis, Cock Worship, Smegma, Foreskin Play, Surgical Amputation, Urethral Insertion, Nipple Penetration, Cervical Penetration, Punishment & Reinforcement, Harapan, Sleep play, Excessive Cum, Free Use, Sexuality Play and others shared via my PM.
Other than that, I really hope to hear from some people soon! <3