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Bovine Indulgence

Rodney Johnson was sitting in a warm and cozy easy chair in his newly finished country cottage. It was everything he wanted and had everything he needed. Most of the interior was wooden with a laid back and lived in style common in the late twentieth century, but it had all of the modern conveniences you could ask for. Rodney Johnson flipped a page in the magazine he was reading; the title read: Popular Science: Top Gadgets of 2025. Before he went to bed that night, Rodney decided to do a few diagnostics on the most important additions to his house; ones that had to be installed in the utmost secrecy.

Inside his bedroom, quite out of place in the quaint style of the cottage, was a door without a handle. Instead, there was a small steel keypad. Rodney entered a secret, 8-digit code and two small sections of wall slid aside revealing a thumbprint reader and a high-tech laser eye-scanner. Rodney positioned his face in line with the reader and pressed his thumb to the glass panel. He stood, unblinking, as the machine issued a tiny beep! as his identity was recognized. The door popped open while issuing a faint hiss as the hermetic seal was broken. Once inside, the door closed and motion sensing lights activated to illuminate a set of stairs leading to the basement. The concrete stairs and walls were a stark contrast from the comfortable abode above. At the bottom of the steps was Rodney's last deterrent against prying eyes, a DNA scanner. He pulled out a tiny wire brush, the size of a cue tip, and rubbed it on the inside of his cheek. When Rodney placed it back into the receptacle, a row of yellow lights flashed as the computer analyzed his epithelial cells. This installment had been dreadfully expensive, but it was necessary to ensure absolute secrecy. If anyone ever found out what I was doing here, they'd lock me away for life. Rodney thought to himself. It took a couple minutes, but eventually a green light flashed and the last door opened. The lights turned on as Rodney walked into his laboratory. The quite hum of inactive electronics was the only noise to be heard. Row after row of arcane equipment filled the room and Rodney went back and forth examining sensitive areas, checking plugs, and occasionally powering up a screen. It may have cost all of my savings and a good deal of my father's inheritance, but it was worth it, thought Rodney, it's just like I imagined; I have everything here that I'll need... or ever need. When he had finished, Rodney shut all of his equipment back down again and headed back up the stairs. It was hard to sleep that night, his first in his newly completed home, his excitement was so great. His dreams were filled with hope and expectations for the day to come.

As he was looking in the mirror the next morning, Rodney smiled. A young geneticist in his mid twenties, with two years under his belt at a large medical research center, everything was looking up. He went outside to survey his land. Several acres of open grass sat nestled amidst the trees of the forest. There were two large barns for the animals he would be keeping and a large barbed fence surrounded his land. A small dirt road led out of sight through the trees to the highway three miles away. It was easily a two hour drive to the city and his place of work, but he could perform most of his functions from his house, he only had to go to return to his facility about once or twice a week. Rodney hitched up the animal trailer to the back of his truck and set off down the road, he had a few last purchases to make.

There was a dairy farm not far away where he could buy the last components of his dream home. Once there, he was greeted by the owner, a tall, well built man with graying hair and wearing a straw hat. "Howdey," he said, "What brings you to Patrick's Dairy and Cheese today?"

Rodney responded, "Just looking to purchase a couple animals, a cow and a bull specifically. I love fresh milk and cheese, and I'm looking to set up a private farm for myself and my family." Rodney was an only child and he hadn't spoken to his mother in years, he hoped this farmer wouldn't spot the lie.

Apparently Patrick took the bait because he said, "Ah, glad to meet another who loves dairy. I make twenty-five different kinds of cheese here and I love them all. Here, I'll show you where I keep the livestock. I can give you a few pointers if you're alooking to set up a new farm. You see, you can increase milk production by..." The farmer rambled on about the dairy business and so called "trade secrets" all the way to the pasture. Rodney walked along, half listening, nodding and saying "ah, huh. Go on." at the right spots.

When they reached the field, Rodney took the lead. Patrick was going on about what characteristics to look for, but Rodney had his own he was looking for. As he walked through the grass, watchful for cow pies, he paid special attention to condition of the cows, specifically, over conditioning. Also, he inquired to Patrick about the lineages and health of the heaviest cows he could find. Finally he came across an excellent Holstein cow. She had a beautiful pattern of black and white blotches and had ample fat stores over her ribs and hips. When Rodney asked about her, Patrick said, "Ah, that's my Bessie. She's my... eighth best milk producer I believe."

Rodney asked, "How's her health? Has she ever had any diseases I should know about?"

Patrick shook his head. "Nah, she's always been real fine. She got a bit of a hoof infection three winters ago, it was a real wet and cold one, almost half my flock got hoof rot that year."

Rodney did his best to suppress his glee as he asked his next and most important question, "She looks a tad overweight, does she eat a lot?"

Patrick laughed, "Yeah, ol' Bess really knows how to shovel it down. I've tried cutting down on her feed, but you know, with a herd this size, it's hard to put a single cow on any kind of special diet."

"Were her parents heavy as well?"

Patrick raised an eyebrow, "Well... I guess the mother was a bit heavy as well. I still have her sire. You can see him when we look at the bulls."

He's getting suspicious, I'd better be more careful. Rodney spent about a half hour more looking at other cows, selecting a few thinner ones to ask about as well.

The bull wasn't nearly as important as the cow. Rodney spent just a little time looking for a healthy one. The bull he chose didn't have a name, his number was 8520, Rodney decided to call him Doug. With both animals loaded up in the trailer, Rodney bid the farmer a hasty farewell, eager to get home and hoping he didn't arose too much suspicion.

The animals adjusted well to their new home. They had a lot of space; in fact, his land could probably have supported sixteen cows without much difficulty. Much to Rodney's delight, Bessie began to chow down on the oats he brought for her without any hesitation at all. Doug wasn't that interested in such high density food. He gave his trough a few sniffs, but went out to graze instead.

Rodney couldn't wait to get started. He began by inspecting both Bessie and Doug thoroughly for any kind of disorder or disease. Finding each animal in perfect condition, Rodney set Doug loose in the pasture and took some blood from Bessie (who didn't even flinch at the needle, she was too busy digging into another bowl of oats). Taking his prize down into his laboratory, Rodney set to work analyzing her DNA. After two hours working at the centrifuge and computer, Rodney had Bessie's entire genetic code displayed for him in a relatively simple display of traits and disorders. It turns out that Bessie's appetite was due to a mild leptin deficiency. Her genetic code also showed that she was deficient in some other proteins as well. The result of which would probably be premature cardiac disease. Also, some chemical imbalances in her blood showed early signs of fatty liver, or Fat Cow disease. Rodney worked well into the night developing several genetic therapies to treat Bessie's unseen health disorders.

It took a great deal of time to develop something to actually treat Bessie with. Rodney was very busy those first few weeks, every morning he went out to feed Doug and Bessie and occasionally he did a few examinations or took more blood. It took a week before Rodney corrected Bessie's cardiac problems. He let her leptin deficiency be for now, eventually he wanted to make it worse and increase her appetite, but before then, he wanted to make sure she could handle any extra weight she put on. Next he set to work developing something to treat her fatty liver. This was unexplored territory and he devoted all of his free time to running simulation after simulation on his computer to find out how to stop this process. In the mean time, Bessie packed on the pounds at a steady rate. She weighed in at a good 1,575 pounds when she was bought and plentiful food supplies were only accelerating her growth, even Doug's muscular frame appeared to be smoothing out from his constant exposure to the pasture.

Six months had passed before Rodney started an active viral therapy with Bessie. By this time she was a comfortable 1,650. She carried the extra weight well. Her flanks were wide with her belly beginning to scrape the inside of her thick thighs. Her brisket was filling out and was starting to wobble as she walked. Bessie was young still, only three years old, but Rodney knew that he needed to fix all of the typical problems associated with bovine obesity to ensure her longevity. Rodney hoped that he had worked out all of the kinks with his formula, all of the simulations said yes, but you never really knew until you put it into practice. Basically, the treatment rewrote a small portion of her DNA to restrict the amount of fat that was deposited in the liver. After only a few days, the early signs of Fatty Liver were gone. Next he set to work on the most important therapy, the one that would send her weight soaring into the record books (although, if she ever made it into the record books, Rodney would most certainly be in jail for illegal genetic experimentation as well as thousands in pilfered equipment).

Working with Bessie's preexisting leptin deficiency, it was easy to rewrite her genetic code to produce almost none of this appetite suppressant. Another problem with fat cows was the fact that they usually stopped eating if they grew too heavy; this was due to pressure exerted on the stomach from the surrounding fat. Rodney hoped that an insatiable appetite would allow Bessie to "muscle" past that effect as it was the primary cause of death for fat cows. Less than a week later, Rodney stood by Bessie in her stall, the syringe in hand; there would be no going back after this. He looked over at the currently unoccupied second barn near his cottage. I'm prepared, I hope Bessie is. With that thought he drove the needle into Bessie's silky soft hide and pushed the plunger.

The effects were visible within the week. She had put on a remarkable 14 pounds, nearly five times the rate she was at previously. Rodney tended to her like a queen. He installed an automatic feeder for her in the barn so that three times a day she had a good deal of high yield oats to eat. Rodney had thought of just leaving a huge trough of food for her all the time (the thought of Bessie sitting in front of it at all hours gorging herself was defiantly a turn on), but roughage was an important part of a cow's diet, there are several disorders that can happen if a cow doesn't get enough simple grass and hay.

Two months and 120 lbs later, Bessie looked spectacular. She would defiantly be in the maximum category of any body condition guide. At 1,778 pounds, Bessie's ribs were not only invisible, they couldn't be felt underneath her heavy blanket of fat. Her tail head was just visible and her pin bones had disappeared entirely. Her hooks were reduced to mere nubs under the tide of encroaching fat. The spine had disappeared, but Rodney could still feel the tips of the vertebrae as he ran he fingers over her ever softening hide. Her udder was once prominent, but now it simply appeared to be a hairless patch on her great sagging belly. The teats there had greatly shrunk for Rodney did not want her spending excess calories on milk production and only milked her to relieve the pressure. Her brisket was full and heavy; it sagged and bounced with every step she took. She walked slower now these days, and was more likely to be found lying in the shade of her stall during the summer heat. She waddled a bit as she walked, it was obvious that her enormous gut was getting in the way of her hind legs. Rodney often watched her for hours while sitting on his porch, and he had to promptly take a cold shower afterwards to get his mind back on his work. But the most beautiful part of Bessie always were her eyes, her shining blue eyes. They didn't contain the dullness that was typically found in a cow, her stare contained the same piercing quality of more intelligent animals. Though her cheeks and neck grew thicker, her eyes remained the same.

It was at this time that Bessie came into heat, and Rodney had great plans for her offspring before she grew so fat that calving would be life threatening for her. He confined Doug to a gated area separate from Bessie, much to his protest. It was easy to get a semen sample from him, all he had to do was walk Bessie by the gate to get him both stimulated and distracted enough to collect it. It was much more difficult getting eggs from Bessie. As much as he hated marring her in any way, Rodney put her to sleep with a small bit of anesthesia pilfered from the medical center. Next, he had only one route to her ovaries for she was far too fat now to collect them with a syringe from the skin. He used a specially designed retractable needle and a portable ultrasound to guide him. As much as he hated violating her like this, he stuck his hand and the syringe as far up her vaginal opening as possible. Bessie didn't ever stir. Slightly relieved, Rodney continued with the procedure. It took the whole length of the needle, but he managed to puncture her left ovary and draw out, hopefully, all the eggs he would ever need from her. Afterwards, he left a great big bowl of cooked oats for her to eat when she awoke and left to clean himself up.

As much as he enjoyed the work he had done with Bessie, Rodney knew that what he was doing now would have a much longer lasting impact. Aside from the stolen equipment, Rodney hadn't done anything technically illegal...yet. This kind of embryonic genetic manipulation, however, was strictly prohibited and Rodney felt a bit of a rush as he slid the now fertilized eggs under his microscope. He smiled as he saw that three had already made their first divisions among the mass of squirming sperm. A sensation of power filled Rodney, here he had a blank slate, and he had the equipment to make these bovine eggs into ducks if he wanted to. But he didn't have much time, in only a few days, these eggs would be too old to take to the uterine wall. He put the other hundred or so eggs into the freezer and set to work making an entirely new breed of cow from scratch. For three days he blew off his company work and ran mostly on coffee and Red Bull.

It wasn't everything that he had hoped for, but now he had a base to work on for next year. These embryos weren't terribly different from the Holstein breed. But he had adjusted their skeletal frame to handle more excess weight as well as make their organs more resistant to the pressures of a huge blanket of fat. Of course he made sure that they all had the same severe leptin deficiency their mother now had. In fact, he thought the data showed that one of them might not produce any at all. Rodney had the makings of a beard and stunk of BO when he emerged from the laboratory, an insemination device containing three altered embryos in hand.

Outside, the sun was shining brightly and made his eyes smart. Bessie was busy grazing (he hardly ever saw her not eating nowadays) and Doug was looking greedily at her from his pen. He called to Bessie who looked up at Rodney and immediately came over, even from a meal. He walked her over to Doug's pen, she waddling by his side; Rodney thought she would be less surprised by penetration in the vicinity of Doug. He mooed angrily at being teased like this and Rodney couldn't really blame him. "Don't worry," he said to Doug, "As soon as these eggs take you can have her all you want." As expected she was compliant as Rodney inserted these special eggs. He stroked her thick neck afterward and she mooed complacently. "You're going to be the mother for a whole new breed of cows." He said. She looked at him quizzically, of course she couldn't understand him, but then Rodney began to have a thought, a very deep one in the back of his mind and began to wonder What if...

The next day, Rodney took a urine sample and confirmed her pregnancy. When he released Doug, he ran to Bessie with all of the speed he could muster and did the one thing that had been on his mind all this past week. For a moment, Rodney envied him. Her heat ended soon afterwards and Rodney doubled up on her checkups and kept an eye on her expanding belly and the treasure it contained.

For the next nine months, Bessie ate ravenously, but surprisingly, her weight gain rate didn't rise; it appeared she was already eating at just about her maximum rate before her pregnancy. But fourteen pounds a week was still a heavy gain and Bessie showed off new excess in her hips and chest as well as her belly.

In the final days before she was due, Rodney walked Bessie onto his scale platform, it was actually designed for weighing cars, but he would defiantly need the extra range. She was panting slightly from walking up the ramp and Rodney felt the familiar movement below the belt. He shook his head to force his mind back on his work. The numbers flashed on the old-fashioned digital display before reading: 2308. "Woah girl, you gotta go on a diet!" Rodney laughed. Bessie looked down at him from the platform and mooed. Rodney looked into her eyes, but couldn't handle it; he loved this animal so much. She hadn't managed a straight 14 lb a week gain, but she looked spectacular. Of course, most of the weight had gone right to her belly, which hung low between her knees, her utter was actually beginning to turn sideways and stick out between her hind legs. The rest of her body hadn't been neglected though, the definition on her hips had gone; it had a nice smooth appearance even over where her hooks and tail head were. Her brisket was like a huge sack of jelly that hung from her fat neck, it wobbled even now as she drew breath. Both ribs and spine where buried beyond recovery in the vast ocean of adipose that was steadily encasing Bessie's body. Her thighs were thick with fat, but you could tell there was muscle there still, it didn't jiggle and shake like the rest of her; they had obviously been strengthened by carrying around all of that extra weight.

Bringing her back down the ramp, Rodney embraced her about her great belly and rubbed his hands and face on her short fine fur (which he groomed daily). Her flanks were a good three feet wider than her shoulders. Her hide was soft and gave way under the lightest touch, but underneath, if he pressed down harder, he could feel the firmness of her uterus and the calf therein. Suddenly he felt movement in the pit of her mammoth gut and smiled. He couldn't wait to see the baby.

Rodney only had to wait a single day for the next morning he went out to her stall and found Bessie already in labor with birthing fluid spread out all over the floor. He dropped the buckets of food he was carrying and ran towards the house. He returned with gloves and some other pieces for equipment to deal with possible problems either the calf or mother could have. Well into the afternoon, Bessie heaved and pushed, sweat was pouring down her face; obesity always complicated birthing and Rodney was counting on her youth and stamina to get through this. Finally a tiny head appeared and Rodney did his best to help pull out the calf. Even covered in embryonic fluid, it was the cutest little calf he had seen. Immediately it began to call for its mother and as it turned, Rodney could see it was a little heifer. The calf cuddled up with her mother and went to sleep after its grand escape. Rodney was about to relax when his tiny handheld monitor let out a loud beep and Rodney saw that her heart rate was increasing again. Suddenly he saw her virginal walls still pushing. She's having another! Rodney thought with glee as yet another head poked out of Bessie.

She was exhausted as she struggled to grant this new calf its freedom. As much as Rodney pulled and pried at the emerging calf, movement was minimal. I was afraid this might happen, he thought, lazy ol' Bess isn't strong enough to keep up the labor. Indeed, it was already visible that her contractions were weakening as she panted and gasped for air.

Rodney rummaged around in his sack of supplies for a moment before pulling out a special pair of tongs he had bought from a rancher in preparation for this day. He positioned them around the calf, which was already bawling, and pushed them deep within Bessie. He cried, "Push Bess, Push! I need your help to get this calf out!" Perhaps due to a reaction to the tongs, or perhaps there was a faint glimmer of understanding, Bessie laid out the last of her strength and her contractions returned in full force. Almost a minute past, it seemed an eternity to Rodney, He pulled and Bessie pushed and finally the calf popped free. Rodney gave a shout of joy as the calf shook itself off and wobbled over to an utterly spent Bessie. Fortunately for her, there were no more to come.

As her last act that afternoon, Bessie rolled over on her side and exposed her utter, which was stretched tight with milk, before lapsing into a long sleep. Rodney smiled, Surely, their mother's gut must appear like a vast, round, black and white mountain to those young calves. As Rodney cleaned up the birth mess, he watched as the newborns suckled greedily off their mother's teats.

Despite her bulk, Bessie bounced back from her ordeal relatively quickly. She was out in the pasture again that morning, her new children clinging to her and nursing almost constantly. When he had awoke that day, Rodney thought of names for the calves. The first born one would be called Molly and the second would be Jennifer.

Despite the fact that Holstein cows produced far more milk than an average calf could possibly consume due to centuries of selective breeding, between Molly and Jennifer there was hardly enough milk left for Rodney to fill his cereal bowl in the morning. Thank Goodness that Bessie was one of Patrick's best milk producers. These heifers almost drink her dry.

For the most part, the young calves shied away from their father, Doug. He wasn't too interested in them either. After a few sniffs on the first couple days, they basically went their separate ways; he hardly even bothered with Bessie (except to sniff her every few days as if expecting her to come back into heat).

Bessie suffered a drastic cut in her gains while she was nursing her girls. She barely managed a pound a week if not none. The mere fact that she wasn't losing weight, however, was testament to Bessie's ferocious appetite as normal cows would be in a severe energy deficit at this point in their lives.

As the months rolled by and the light snow of the South Eastern US melted away, Rodney watched the little cows grow. Right from the start, he could tell that their baby fat wasn't going anywhere. He had no plans to wean them, he didn't have any use for the milk and it gave Bessie's body a chance to rest from constant fattening. When they were old enough, Bessie would stop them from feeding herself. In the meantime, the calves grew at near double the average rate, of course, not all of it was bone and muscle. By the time the young heifers were three months old, Molly weighed in at 335 lbs and Jennifer at 322. Both of them were as heavy as six month old calves.

It was rather odd seeing how obese they were becoming at such a young age. Their bodies put most of the extra fat on their legs and chests. Their undeveloped utters were still mere pink patches on their (relatively) small bellies.

By this time, a normal farmer would have weaned the calf and had the cow fertilized again. It was rather amusing watching these oversized calves bending low to get at Bessie's utter. This time when her heat came around, Rodney had no intentions of fertilizing her. Despite the fact that he would have to wait almost another year for Bessie to come into heat again, He felt that it was important to her health that she wasn't pregnant all the time. After all, each baby had weighed over 100 lbs when they were born and Bessie had just gotten back to her pre-birth weight.

Three more months later, Spring was in full motion. Molly and Jennifer were both excellent grazers now, but still went to Bessie often for a snack every few hours. Bessie seemed reluctant to nurse them now; she even turned away from them sometimes. All three of them were packing on the pounds. Molly had surged ahead of Jennifer in weight. She came in at 625 pounds, fully double what she should weigh. Jennifer was at 582 pounds. Both of them had massive guts for their small frames, and it was odd seeing the tiny pink patch of skin where their utter would grow in stretching out to meet the needs of the fat within. Both calves were excellent eaters, though Molly was much more aggressive at the food trough (which may help to explain the differences in weight). However aggressive she was though, she was no match for Bessie who pushed both of her girls aside to get in at the trough.

Nursing less and throwing her weight around at the new, expanded food trough had brought Bessie's gains back up to about 9 pounds a week. She was weighing in at 2416 and showed no signs of slowing down. She was getting so fat now that it was hard to tell where she was putting the extra weight. Her enormous blocky frame seemed to hide its additions, and it was only when Rodney put her on the scale did he see the changes.

As the year wore on, there was less to do about the "farm." Since he had added the expanded feeder trough, all he had to do was fill it up once a week (a major portion of his total expenses). Despite Jennifer's submission at the feeding area, there was still more than enough to keep her waistline growing; even so, Rodney put video cameras in the barn so he could observe their feeding habits. As the three cows continued to prove that fat and healthy was indeed compatible, Rodney cut back on their check-ups and had more time to concentrate on his business work. A few days after his fourth year anniversary at Gentech, Rodney got a promotion. It meant more money and slightly less work. Since he was now supervising his fellow geneticists, he almost never had to go to the city except to buy supplies. The raise also meant he could start replenishing his depleted savings.

That April, Rodney admired how much his cows had grown. Molly was a huge sack of lard. Despite not yet being fully grown, her distended belly hung low between her knees and Rodney was sure that she had long ago surpassed even Bessie in a height to weight ratio. She huffed and puffed to move her girth up the short ramp and onto the scale. It read: 1832. For the first time, Rodney considered the possibility of putting her on a diet just to keep her on her feet. Next came Jennifer, she was very voluptuous and carried her weight well like her mother. A sharp exhale of breath was the closest to a pant that she came as she gracefully sauntered up the ramp. 1552. Rodney scribbled some notes of a pad of paper. If future generations of his cows could gain as gracefully as Jennifer, he'd "be in business."

Now Bessie trudged along towards the scale. She took deep heavy breaths as if the walk there was tiring her out. He utter had indeed finally turned sideways on her behemoth belly and protruded several inches out behind her back legs. He gut was the central figure of her frame. It hung well below her knees; Rodney grew warm thinking about how it will someday scrape the ground. She had managed to add almost a foot of width to her flanks on either side, making her shoulders look hilariously narrow. The fat on her hips was actually forming a roll on top of her thighs. It was soft and jiggly, a strong contrast to the still firm fat on her thick thighs. Despite the extra fat on her back, her spine was curving downwards as a result of the massive weight between her chest and hips. Rodney hoped she wouldn't develop any back problems too soon. As we approach her front, her flesh has a sort of pebbly look from the rolls of fat that are bunched around her shoulders, brisket and the base of her neck. Massive clumps of cellulite cling, seeming ready to fall off at any moment. As her gelatin-like brisket moved forward, her neck had grown incredibly thick. She has hanging fat from her chin, almost like a turkey waddle, and the fat that hangs down from her neck looks as though it is melting into the huge sac that is her brisket. Her cheeks have grown thick and wide, giving her snout a shortened appearance, but as always, her pale blue eyes shine, the one constant on her ever expanding body.

It took a supreme act of willpower to keep control of himself as he led Bessie up the ramp, Her fur is so soft... I just want to... No! Rodney shook his head to clear his mind, but grew weak at the knees as he saw her waddling up the ramp. He gut swung side to side like a pendulum and she panted audibly to shift her bulk. Rodney too was panting and raging with desire. He looked desperately down at the display to get his eyes off her, 3124 lbs, it read. "My God Bess, you're amazing." He couldn't help himself any longer, Rodney ran up the ramp and ran his fingers through her short soft fur and around her voluptuous curves. As he moved to her front, She mooed affectionately at the attention he was giving her, and that turned him on all the more. He sat down on the steel plate of the scale and pleasured himself while bouncing her brisket lightly in his fingers with his free hand.

Relieved of his desire for the moment, Rodney gave Bessie a tight hug about her neck. He felt himself perk up again, though, as his arms sank into her soft flesh. Just managing to control another attack, Rodney helped Bessie turn around off the platform and back out into the field. He then went back into the house and pondered about what he had just done.

Ever since puberty, he had had a thing for fat animals. Of all of the countless pictures of animals he scoured the web for, his favorite by far was the cow. They just seemed... made for fat. Most of it went right to their bellies, unlike other animals that carry it around their legs and hips and don't look fat at all because of it. When his mother had stumbled onto his "porn" collection in his late teens, she had called him a beastialist and told him that it was a sin. He went to several councilors, most of whom were priests, but they couldn't help him; he just wasn't interested in the opposite sex like that. He liked them, most of his friends were girls, but all of the boobs and pussies in the world wouldn't have gotten even the barest reaction out of him. But the thing that irritated him the most was the fact that they didn't understand that he just wanted to see animals fat, he didn't want to do anything creepy to them. At least... that's what he had thought.

Maybe they were right all along... Rodney thought, Maybe I am a sick pervert, an animal rapist. But being with Bessie just feels so...right. I want to treat her like a queen and see her bigger and fatter everyday. Heh, the press would have a field day if they ever found me out. Animal Rapist Feeds his Cows to Death. That'd be the headline, and they'd neglect to inform the reader that Doug has hardly put on 100 pounds since I've had him too. But God, I have never wanted Bessie before like I did just now. But it isn't right, she doesn't understand my feelings, she can't consent or say no...

The internal battle waged on and on for an hour. But logic had to give way to passion eventually for Rodney couldn't change his feelings...

...But I can change the way I feel about them. So what if I'm a pervert, I've already just about made myself into a hermit, why should I care about what the rest of the world thinks. I'm not hurting anyone, and my ladies have the best care available, I'm as good as any veterinarian and I love them more than anyone could possibly understand. Though, I have to take this slow and make sure that Bessie has every opportunity to reject me if she wants.

The next day he started his advances. Often he brought Bessie a huge bowl of warm oat mash which she eagerly devoured while he stroked her coat. He ran his fingers over her belly and down her hips while she stuffed her face like the oats might disappear at any moment. He continued to stroke her as he moved behind. Finally he had gotten to as far as he had ever gone, the very back of her thighs and her tail were before him and Rodney felt warm inside and started drawing deeper breaths as he closed in on his target. Her butt had widened greatly and even absorbed several inches of her tail. He took a step forwards and his shin hit something soft and cushiony. It was her utter/belly sticking out behind her legs. He felt a rush of desire and pictured himself sucking of her nipples just as Molly and Jennifer had done last year. Finally the moment had come, still the voice in his head said that this was a perversion, that he should be thankful that he has a cow to fatten at all and not to press his luck, but desire was too strong. He lifted her tail and Bessie didn't even look up, she was used to his presence from long years of check-ups and treatments. Right below her whistle clean anus was the moist little button that he might have unknowingly obsessed over all his life.

Slowly, Rodney lifted his hand and hesitated, his thumb hovering in the air. It felt like that night with the syringe, the one that had transformed a merely fat cow into the goddess of adipose that stood before him... There would be no going back. Carefully, he pressed his thumb against her vagina. Almost like a programmed response, she lifted her head from the delicious mash and turned it as much as her fat encased neck would allow. She looked at him with those same questioning eyes, but showed no sign of aggression, no hint of wanted to leave, she simply stared at him like she was wondering what he was doing.

Rodney felt like he was drowning, he was panting but couldn't get enough air. Even more carefully, at a snail's pace, he inserted his thumb, constantly looking at her expression for the slightest change. Even his thumb fully inserted, she still looked at him quizzically. Finally she simply turned her head and went back to her mash. Can she even feel it, Rodney wondered as he removed his thumb, feeling like coming down from a high, How am I supposed to pleasure this wonderful creature? Doug's got 2 and a half feet over me. He suddenly felt very small and went back to the cottage rather disappointed for the whole experience.

He didn't try again; besides, there was more work to do now. Bessie was coming back into heat, and Rodney wanted to breed her at least twice more before she was no longer fit enough to handle it. After collected another semen sample from a very upset Doug, he set to work. He had worked on the model he had developed all last year in his spare time, improving hormone levels, erasing disorders. He made sure that the leptin levels were a bit higher because it was apparent that Molly was suffering from a total lack of it and even Jennifer could do with a few hundred pounds less at her age. Most importantly however, he had decided to act on the thought he had last year. He wanted them smarter. Rodney had taken a bit of his own human DNA and used it in the new DNA model. This broke every chimera law in existence and would surely earn him a few hundred life sentences, but he didn't care; see saw the glimmer of understanding in Bessie's eyes, but he knew that was a mere illusion, he wanted the real deal. No amount of human DNA was going to make them talk and understand like a human does (at least not without making them into something horribly different), but Rodney was sure that this new batch of cows could do as well as dolphins or monkeys. He imagined them understanding commands and able to connect emotionally on a deeper level than ever before.

He watched as the programmed viruses delivered his modifications to the fertilized eggs. Again, he took the three best embryos. He was praying that only one would take, Bessie was two years older now and much fatter than before, but these eggs were also much more unstable than Molly or Jennifer was. This time he didn't insert them while next to Doug, I don't want to punish him further. With another bowl of hot mash distracting her, Rodney slid the inserter up into her. He felt the heat welling up in him again and couldn't help giving the probe a couple of wiggles in an attempt to pleasure his object of desire. He felt the vibrations of her vaginal walls contracting and heard her snort (whether in pleasure or pain or laughter at his feeble attempts Rodney didn't know), but she didn't look up. He pushed the button to deliver the eggs and removed the applicator, immediately Bessie's tension was gone. Before he knew what he was doing, Rodney had taken a long a deep sniff of the vaginal fluids on the probe. The thought of licking it entered his mind and suddenly, he was disgusted with himself. Oral was never my thing in college, and it isn't now. He waited for Bessie to finish her calorie laden snack before taking the bowl and the probe back into the house.

Just as before, the urine sample the next day showed that Bessie was pregnant. Doug went at her in earnest and Rodney paid close attention to how he performed and logged the whole scene in his memory.

Over the next nine months, Rodney's food bill skyrocketed. Between his three, "Gluttony Gals," nearly a fourth of his total income was gone on food for them. Molly was a mess, she was so fat that her undeveloped frame was growing improperly. Her bulk was forcing her hips and spine into undesirable positions and she was obviously having trouble getting around. Four months into Bessie's pregnancy, Rodney put her into Doug's pen and left her there with just the pasture and meager amounts of grain in the morning to keep her from whining too much. He regretted ever thinking that a total lack of leptin was a good idea, she was hungry all the time, no amount of oats or corn meal could ease the burning in her belly. Rodney was glad that his new model had them growing close to normal in the early years and gaining later on in life. The weight didn't come off easy, she trimmed the whole pen's grass to stubble in her endless search for food; grazing was the only exercise she got so Rodney had no choice but to let her eat up the clippings.

Jennifer too was on a diet of sorts, Rodney brushed and groomed her outside while Bessie took the first crack at the grain trough. He thought that if he could just keep her weight from increasing, she would grow into her fat and have a healthy, happy life as a beautifully obese creature. He wondered about Molly though, There's so much damage that's already been done. I overlooked it in my passion for fat... I'm so sorry Molly. He held hope for her though, She had lost almost fifty pounds in the four months she had been on her diet and she seemed a bit lighter on her feet.

Bessie's round, sagging frame couldn't hide the quarter ton she had put on during her pregnancy. A month ago, Rodney had tried to ultrasound her belly to get a glimpse at the unborn calf, but her fat was simply too deep, even for its highest setting. Rodney took hope in the fact that her belly didn't grow nearly as much during her last pregnancy, this time her additions seemed much more evenly distributed. Bessie weighed in at 3,708 pounds last week and he was sure that she had put on at least 15 more pounds (the steady rate she had been gaining all through her pregnancy).

She was massive, there was simply no other word for it. Her flanks stuck out so far from her body that as she walked, they reminded Rodney of oil pumps and the way they pump up and down on either side. There was a crease on her back where her spine should have been, the makings of the tide of fat that only flows in. The gap between her belly and the floor could have been measured in inches, it was still hanging about her ankles. Also, her belly no longer hung like a circle, as the fat moved father and farther away from her abdomen, it's finally lost its tension, it sagged like a long oval that narrowed at its tip. The fat on her hips sat like a shelf on top of her thighs. It was over half a foot deep and there was a visible crease separating it from her thighs. The thighs themselves were now pot marked and wrinkled with cellulite, though you could still feel the massive muscles underneath if you pressed gently. Cellulite was the general theme of the front of Bessie's torso, her chest that was once smooth was now dripping with fat deposits that no longer had any support to cling to. Rodney had thought that there was no tension left in her brisket before, he was wrong. What once looked like a sac filled with gelatin, now looked to be filled with pudding. It sagged below her knees and was covered with thick wrinkles (Rodney was reminded slightly of a Sharpe). It stuck out as far as her chin did and was taking over the bottom of her neck. The neck, in fact, seemed shorter now as it disappeared into her expanding torso. As ever, her eyes remained the same, even if they were set in a steadily widening face.

Rodney could tell that her weight, and perhaps age, were finally catching up to Bessie. Her huge brisket got in the way of her head as she tried to graze and she was forced to take smaller and smaller steps as her hind legs were blocked from moving forwards. She tired simply from walking now; a lap around the field would wind her. As she spent less time grazing, she consumed more of her and Jennifer's grain, a reason, Rodney suspected, why she had put on so much weight this pregnancy.

Rodney was working on some of his business work when he pulled up his camera feed from the barn to check how things were going. Bessie had gone in there about half an hour ago and gone to sleep despite it being well before dark. From the high definition camera, he could see waves rolling across Bessie's fat laden body. She was in distress and Rodney didn't have to guess what kind. He had had his birthing supply bag, which contained a few more high-tech condition monitoring gadgets this year, by his front door for a week. Rodney grabbed it and ran towards the barn where he knew he would most likely be spending the night.

Bessie was in her stall lying on her side, her fat belly stretching out before her. She was taking even deep breaths, a sign Rodney knew meant that she had just started her labor. Rodney sighed, I'm in for a long night. He attached his sensors to her and sat on an old milking stool while monitoring her vitals on a slim hand held monitor. A new sensor was pricked into a vein on her neck and gave important stats such as oxygen and key hormone levels. The screen showed an increase in her oxytocin levels as well as an elevated heart rate. All normal so far, Rodney thought as he waited and watched Bessie's great belly heave up and down.

It was after midnight and Jennifer and Doug were asleep in their stalls when Bessie's contractions really started. Her water broke and Rodney jumped to get his equipment out of the wave of fluid, sacrificing the dryness of his shoes in the process. Bessie began to pant, her whole body covered with waves like the sea in a hurricane. Rodney couldn't help but be stimulated by the sight, but he had a job to do.

Bessie was tiring out much faster this time, within the hour, the fur on her face was drenched in sweat as well as the fur on her flanks. Rodney got some damp cloths and wiped her down to keep her cool in the warm summer night. At two o'clock, he was forced to give Bessie a shot of artificial oxytocin to keep up her contractions, which were fading even before the head appeared. Rodney was shaking his head, wondering what was wrong, when at long last the snout of the calf appeared. But Bessie was exhausted, even more so than last year. Her eyes were rolling back in her head as her gaped her snout open like a fish out of water. Pulling out the monitor, Rodney saw that her oxygen levels were dropping. He attached an oxygen mask to her face and turned it up to full. He also gave her another dose of oxytocin. Reenergized for the moment, the force of Bessie's contractions created tidal waves all across her lard filled body. Despite this, Rodney concentrated on inserting the tongs deeper than was probably safe. For an hour he worked, even as Bessie's contractions began to weaken again ( he was too afraid of overdosing her to give her another shot of oxytocin). Sweat poured down his face as he heaved with all his might. Poor Bessie was threatening to fall unconscious even with the oxygen, this was so tiring for her. Finally the babe's head and front legs were free. Rodney released the tongs and pulled this new heifer out into the world.

As he was sponging her off, his monitor let out an ear piercing screech. Nearly dropping the calf, Rodney grabbed the screen and saw it outlined in red. It showed a single flat line above which were the words: Heart Rate. Dear God, no! She's gone into cardiac arrest! Not wasting a moment Rodney sprung into action, not daring to think about what should happen if he failed to resuscitate her. He pulled up screen after screen to see what had caused it. There! Her oxygen levels tanked! He looked at her, luckily she was still breathing, for now. How could she have gotten Hypoxia? I gave her oxygen. He went to the breath mask on her face and the culprit was obvious, the oxygen gauge was empty; it had run out while she was in labor. Curses at the empty tank and at himself for not noticing it flowed through his head. Seconds ticked by as he tried to change the miniature tank on the mask, it seemed that he was moving so very slowly as Bessie came closer and closer to death. With the mask now providing fresh oxygen again, there wasn't much Rodney could do but pray. She's too fat for any kind of CPR, and ephemeron won't help with her oxygen levels. Damnit! I wish I could help her! For the first time in his life Rodney cursed her obesity and prayed to every god he knew to bring Bessie back. Forty-five seconds seemed like an eternity, but finally the monitor ceased its screech as a pulse was detected. Rodney fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Thank You! Thank You! Thank You! He cried over and over in his head. He threw himself onto Bessie and hugged her, never wanting to let go. The shock must have awakened her because she reached around and gave Rodney a great wet lick on his forehead. Rodney thought his heart would break.

It goes without saying that Rodney thought that birthing was way too close. No, three will have to be enough, unless Bessie suddenly drops half a ton. He still kept her eggs as a memento, however. He didn't know what he would ever do with them, but there was room in his freezer and it was nice to have a little piece of Bessie nearby. The new calf was christened Mary in honor of Bessie's close call and grew at a slightly above normal rate. True, her baby fat only filled out as the months past, but she didn't plump out like Molly, or even Jennifer had. Mary was a marvel; she looked just like her mother and had her piercing blue eyes. She learned her name within her first month and was always overjoyed when Rodney came out to play with her. Mary was energetic and liked to run, a far cry from the others who trudged along like blimps on the grass. Most surprising of all, Mary weaned herself at four months in favor for pasture, though she also ate heartily from the grain trough. At the sight of Mary's success, Rodney decided to take her as the next generation and neutered both Molly and Jennifer. He thought about neutering Bessie as well, but he just couldn't make himself do her any sort of harm. Things were finally picking up for Doug, he was happy to finally have first crack at both Molly and Jennifer, even if they would never produce any young.

Molly managed to drop 100 more pounds as she matured into adulthood. She always walked with a limp, however, from how her hips had developed. Since caring for two cows in Bessie's weight range would have been a bit much for Rodney, he decided to keep Jennifer on her diet. Her weight gain was minimal, but she seemed happy enough as she grew.

Though he hated to admit it, Bessie and Mary took precedence over all of the other cows he had in time. He wasn't turned on at all by sight of Molly (who only reminded him of his failure), and Jennifer simply didn't offer the kind of relationship he had with Bessie and Mary (either in brightness or bulk). And, of course, Doug had never been much more than a sperm factory from the start.

During those four months that Mary was nursing, Rodney finally came to terms with what he was. He became an active participant on several popular zoophilia forums and found that he had a lot in common with these people. He got lots of technical advice from the internet and he built up his confidence. While he was finally being social with people outside of work for the first time in years (albeit digitally), he never dared release too much information. Just saying that he "owned a cow" seemed to get people's attention. He found out that many people had it worse than him, some had been ousted from their families or entire communities by force and the law frowned upon them. Most people didn't even own an animal (or were prevented by law from owning one). Most of them didn't understand his reservations about sex with Bessie though, and some even suggested taking her against her will (Rodney immediately blocked those who suggested this). But Rodney was finally happy with who and what he was and was determined to try again with Bessie.

He waited until he was sure that Mary was weaned before starting again. He thought that distracting her with food wasn't fair to her and instead came to her with only a stool in hand. It was late in the afternoon and Bessie was resting in the hay of her stall. I guess I won't need this, he thought as he threw the stool aside. Rodney laid down beside her and stroked her gigantic belly. She mooed contently and gave Rodney several wet kisses on the face. After she had settled down from his entrance, he took advantage of her lying position and rolled on top of her massive gut. She was delightfully warm and soft, like a fur-lined water mattress. Rodney stripped off his shirt, closed his eyes and lost himself in Bessie's warm soft flesh.

He wasn't aware that he had fallen asleep until he awoke hours later. The first thing he noticed was that it was dark, next was that he was still lying atop Bessie who was asleep. Gently, Rodney stroked and scratched her neck until she awoke. She opened her eyes and gave a great yawn.

Rodney rolled off of Bessie and walked over to her massive rear. As he walked around he saw that her left leg rested atop her sagging belly with her right hoof barely visible underneath it. He flushed red at the sight and was more determined than ever to do this.

Rodney had heard about "fisting" on some of the sights he visited, it sounded gross at first, but it seemed to be the only way he could hope to give Bessie even a modicum of pleasure. Really, it was her happiness that mattered most to Rodney.

He spread his freshly manicured fingers and inserted both his index and middle fingers into the (not so tiny anymore, after 3 births) button under her tail. Bessie immediately perked up, but still she gave no sign of refusal, only that same puzzled look as before. With confidence (even though this was Rodney's first time doing anything like this), Rodney widened the opening to get all his fingertips inside. It was a tight squeeze, but as Bessie started lubricating, Rodney managed to slip his hand inside. She gave a sharp inhale of breath and continued to stare at Rodney. Wow, she really felt that, he thought, I wonder how she'll respond to... this!

With that thought, Rodney balled his hand into a fist and thrust his arm forward up to his elbow. Bessie gave a faint oof! and quickened her breath. He could feel Bessie's warmth, it was almost like an oven. Rodney also felt her vaginal walls contracting around his arm. Rodney was ecstatic, She likes it. He pulled his arm back and slid it back in, more quickly this time. Bessie gave another heavy exhale of breath and her vaginal contractions quickened. Rodney tried to work with her muscle spasms as they quickened towards her climax. Bessie was grunting in time with her contractions and the pressure on Rodney's arm was enormous. It was almost painful as Bessie reached orgasm and Rodney's arm shot out of her. Let's see Doug do that, Rodney thought sarcastically.

As Bessie came down from her high, she mooed at Rodney before releasing her urine. Despite the fact that this was becoming rather messy for his tastes, Bessie's eyes almost seemed inviting and he couldn't deny her anymore than he could chop off his arm. Twice more, he pleasured her that night. On the last time, Rodney took another tip from the internet and pulled out in mid climax. Quickly, he pulled down his trousers and finished with his real member. He laid down on her thigh and gathered her flesh in his arms as he thrust with all his might. It was honestly the best orgasm he had ever had in his life. It made him feel like all those times in college weren't really sex at all. His mind was wiped clean, only he and his beloved Bessie existed.

Panting and covered with a number of bodily fluids, Rodney was finally and truly finished. After hosing himself off, Rodney wiped up the mess in Bessie stall. When he was done, he said to her, "Bess, you're amazing." and then kissed her on the forehead. She responded with her own before Rodney walked back to his house, feeling truly satisfied for the first time in his life.

That night began his sexual relations with Bessie. She did refuse Rodney if he tried too often (mostly by clamping down her vagina and trying to walk away), but for the most part she was accepting. About every other day, Rodney fisted her and usually finished with his penis at least once. Doug must've sensed that he had some competition because he became unusually aggressive towards Rodney as their relations grew regular. He ended up selling Doug within the month (out of his trailer of course. He didn't want anyone coming to his farm). Rodney thought it would be a sad occasion, but he really couldn't muster up any feelings for him as the rancher carted him away. Besides, I'm only going to be breeding Mary from now on, and I need a fresh donor.

About four months after Doug was gone, Rodney helped the massively obese Bessie up the ramp and onto the scale. She was out of breath as she reached the top and looked like she wanted to lie down. If she lies down, I'm never gonna get her off of here. So Rodney scratched her behind the ears to distract her as he leaned over and looked as the display below (making sure he was standing on the rim around the steel weighing plate first, of course). It took a moment to read them upside down, but finally he managed to see: 4023 lbs. "Woot! Two tons Bessie. Way to go!" he cheered as he patted her head and gave her a solid slap on her flank, sending shockwaves over her skin and turning Rodney's cheeks red.

Bessie's belly was indeed almost to the ground; it hovered a meager two inches above it at the lowest point (it even scraped against the ramp as she descended). Her giant gut was so distended that the white patches showed her pink skin underneath. Much more of her neck had been absorbed into her back and chest area, leaving her struggling to turn her head much more than 45° either way. Her enormous brisket was obviously beginning to hinder her front legs in the same way that her belly hindered her hind legs. This giant sac of adipose now stuck out farther than Bessie's chin if she held her head in the right way and wider than her shoulders. In fact, it looked almost as though her front legs were disappearing into her chest since the upper portions had so much cellulite that they blended into her shoulders. The crease on her spine was much wider now, but not as deep. The shelf of fat on top of her thighs was nearly ten inches deep and as she grew wider, the crease between them became deeper (it was now a regular area that Rodney had to clean since dirt, hair and skin flakes built up there). Rodney could tell it took a lot of energy to mover her massive flanks. They were easily as wide as two of her shoulder lengths on each side and they had to move up and down just to allow enough space to make a step. In fact, her gut had grown so wide that her hind hooves were turned out, bowlegged, to accommodate it.

Bessie was most defiantly physically disabled by her weight as this point, but still, Rodney marveled how she carried well over three times her maximum recommended weight. She couldn't handle more than a few hours on her feet at a time so she spent a great deal of her time in her stall, or in front of the food trough (just like Rodney imagined). She couldn't graze efficiently anymore due to the size of her brisket so Rodney hooked up a bale of hay for her to chow on at head level in her stall. She's almost ready to be moved into the second barn. But I'll give her as much time out here as possible...

At nine months old, Mary was a beautifully fat juvenile cow. She had ample fat stores at 558 pounds, but she was only marginally overweight. Her wide, sturdy frame held the weight well so that she didn't look very fat at all. She had calmed down a bit, and while she still liked to walk about the pasture, she didn't gallop wildly about like she use to. Most astonishing about Mary was her intelligence. She craved attention and was more interactive than any dog that Rodney had ever owned. She enjoyed looking for apples that he threw for her as a game. Also, she was extraordinarily gentle. She seemed to know just how hard she could push Rodney without hurting him and he never had to worry about being thrown to the ground while playing with her. She responded positively to many commands, many were much more complicated than even Bessie could manage.

At this time, Rodney decided to test the extent of her intelligence. He began a wide variety of lessons with her. In time, she proved just as capable as any of the higher primates in standard cognition tests. By the time she was a year old, Mary had learned to distinguish primary colors and several simple objects. It was amazing to watch her pick out things like brushes and plates from a myriad of household objects. She grew extremely useful on the farm as well. Rodney could ask her for his pitchfork or sacks of grain and she always fetched them without fail.

* * *

It was February 8, 2030, a day that Rodney would never forget. It started out normally enough. Rodney had a bowl of cereal with some freshly chopped fruit as he did every morning. When he went out into the yard, Mary was there to greet him, as was also routine. He said, "Good morning, Mary." And gave her a generous rub on her head. She mooed at the attention and gave him a big wet kiss. "Mary, go get my shovel." He pronounced "shovel" carefully and clearly. He smiled as she turned around to comply with his request. As Rodney walked towards the barn with intentions to clean it out, he looked out onto his pasture.

Jennifer was there, walking slowly along grazing as if with intense concentration. At over two and a half years old, she was fully grown and, of course, severely over-conditioned. Last time he weighed her, the scale had shot up to 2567. She carried her one and a quarter tons well. She was no athlete, but she moved without much effort. Relatively light on her hooves, Jennifer spent the whole day out in the pasture, gorging herself to keep her weight up ever since Rodney had decided that oats, corn and grain shouldn't be a part of her diet. Her young skin was remarkably tight and firm on her frame; whereas Bessie looked as if her fat was ready to drip off, Jennifer's chest, brisket and belly were toned and even.

Bessie was out in the pasture now as well. She was lying down and taking deep breaths that shook her massive body; occasionally, she would reach over her brisket to take a bite of grass. When she was weighed two weeks ago, she had finally broken 4500 pounds. Her belly dragged on the ground now, thankfully, the yard was soft and didn't have many stones that she could cut her tender and loose skin on. She hardly ventured beyond 50 feet from the barn now; it was a massive effort just for her to get on her feet. In fact, she would spend in excess of 28 hours in one spot if she was unmotivated to move (this place usually turned out to be the food trough). Despite her growing limitations, Rodney couldn't help but feel giddy at her head-on rush towards immobility. I've got that barn all set up for its one and only occupant. I think I'll be moving her in there in the next month or two. Hopefully I'm not waiting too long, or I'll need a bulldozer to get her in there.

Still staring at Bessie sitting on the lawn like a giant furry mattress, Rodney opened the door. Almost on cue, Mary came trotting over with the shovel in her mouth. Rodney thanked her and gave her one of the carrots he always carried around with him since he had started training her. As she munched it, it seemed to Rodney that she almost smiled. Rodney started to muck out the stalls (not much of a job since Mary never messed in her pen, and there were only three other cows). It was not until he came to Molly's pen that he realized that something was amiss.

Molly was lying in a corner of her stall. Rodney thought it was odd that she would be there, especially considering that Bessie of all people was out today. As he got closer though, he realized that something was terribly wrong. The buzzing of flies was the first giveaway since all his animals were kept clean and never attracted many of them. As Rodney noticed this, he realized that her heavy and raspy breath was absent. Fear griped Rodney and he dropped his shovel. Molly's tongue was lolled out, dry as a bone, and her eyes were grey, already attracting a horde of flies.

At first, Rodney denied what he was seeing. She's so young... How could she just...DIE, as he thought that last word, Rodney broke down. His failure in her creation had finally culminated in the ultimate cost for her. Rodney couldn't even console himself with the thought that it wasn't his fault, because he knew for a fact that it was his inexperience and foolishness that led to this moment.

Rodney was brought back from the depths of his depression by the nudge of Mary's snout from behind him. I don't want her to see this, he thought and tried to lead Mary away. For the first time, however, Rodney felt her full strength as she denied him and strode into the stall. Grief and anger at himself were replaced for a few precious moments by curiosity as Mary approached the one and a half ton corpse. She nudged it with her snout, as if trying to rouse her. After less than a minute of sniffing, though, tears glistened in her eyes as she let out a mournful howl. Rodney went to her and tried to put an arm around her neck, but he leapt aside as Mary charged out of the stall and into the pasture, her moans echoing in the nearby hills. As he was left alone again with Molly's corpse, it was not the grief he felt for Molly that troubled him the most, it was being reminded of the mortality of his heifers and how Bessie, and Mary too, will end up like this in the end. He thought, I don't know how I could bear to lose Bessie. It'd be like losing part of my soul. He sat there in the brightening morning gloom of the barn and wept.

Mary refused to contact him, or any other cow, for the rest of the day, which suited Rodney since he wanted to do an autopsy on Molly to find out why she died. As he set out his tools, Rodney thought, her position suggests that she died in her sleep... but then why are her eyes open? Maybe she was in distress in her final moments. The video tapes didn't reveal much, both Molly's and Jennifer's pens were observed by a single camera and it was at a poor angle to observe Molly at the time. I guess I'll just have to dive in myself. Rodney grabbed a tool that he had put together in a hurry, it was a tissue scanner that was usually used from outside the body, but he had taken off the probe and stuck it inside the head of a long, thin spear. Rodney grimaced and closed his eyes in preparation for defiling Molly's corpse. He rammed the spear deep into her gut, the adipose gave way sickeningly and pushed back as Rodney lost his momentum. Despite his efforts, Rodney could get the spear barely more than two feet into her burgeoning belly. He hammered it in a full foot more before he was sure that the sensor was in amidst her former life support systems. A half hour of analyzing 3-D holographic images of her organs revealed that she had died of congestive heart failure. She inherited her mother's genetic defects... Her rapid weight gain and high fat diet in youth must have accelerated the process. He shook his head, I didn't notice it because her hip naturally led to a lack of activity, and of course I wouldn't have noticed edema because of all her lard. Rodney sighed, Yet another failure. For a moment, Rodney allowed himself to wallow in guilt. As he rose however, he felt a new surge of strength and resolution welling up from within, I'm going to do all I can to make sure that this doesn't happen again! No more mistakes, I'm going to be he best damn caretaker my girls could ask for. He whispered to Molly, "I'm going to make sure that my other girls don't suffer your fate, Molly. You've inspired me not the fail again." One last time he kissed her on the forehead.

It took a lot of effort to get the body out of the barn. It took hours and the highest powered forklift that Rodney could find, but he finally got it onto a massive palette and covered the body with an equally massive tarp (to spare the others the sight of their dead sister). It took another piece of serious hardware to dig her grave, luckily, Rodney rented both of them under the pretense of building construction so he hoped that he didn't create too much suspicion. Her tombstone read: Molly, October 12, 2026-February 8, 2030, If we learn from our mistakes, they only make us stronger.

From that day forward, he doubled up on his examinations of his heifers and took full genetic examinations of them once a year. To his everlasting joy, all three of them were healthy as horses, but that didn't wear on his zeal. Neither Bessie nor Jennifer reacted noticeably to Molly's departure, but Mary was another story. She refused contact with Rodney for several days and was obviously depressed all that month. Her vigor had gone out of her step and she even, to Rodney's horror, lost weight as she cut down on her intake. Eventually, though, Mary recovered. It happened gradually and it seemed that she was never quite the same again, a bit of her carefree spirit had passed with Molly.

It was late March when Rodney decided to change the course of Bessie's life once again. He decided that it was finally time when Bessie failed to get up from her food trough for two full days. He came to her with a heavy duty, wide wheeled tray. "Come'on Bess ol' girl, we gotta ways to go. I've got a new home for you." Bessie perked up and flicked her ears towards him. Rodney jumped on her belly and scratched her with both hands. Bessie mooed contently and rolled fully onto her side with a grunt of effort. Rodney scratched and patted her behemoth gut until there was a low hum in her throat. Hope this works. Rodney got off her and gestured for her to come around to him, "Come on, Bessie. Come on." He cooed. Bessie turned her head and struggled to roll back over. She flailed her fat limbs in the air in effort to shift her bulk. Finally, the critical spot had been breached, she tipped over and, like a bean bag, her fat carried her back onto all fours. She lay there breathing heavily and the crotch of Rodney's trousers grew noticeably larger.

He pulled out a super sweet, homemade granola bar from his pocket and waved it in front of Bessie's face. She reached out with every inch she could muster out of her fat neck. "Bessie, you gotta get up. Come on girl, get the granola bar." She planted her hooves on the ground and pushed with all her might. Slowly, her fat lifted from the ground until only a small strip of flesh was resting on the concrete. She wagged her tail in accomplishment and looked at Rodeny as if to say, "I better get a heap of food for this." Rodney grabbed a roll of flesh on her neck (it worked as well as her collar used to) and guided Bessie over to the wheeled tray. She'd never be able to walk all the way over to the other barn. At least I can push her if she stumbles with this cart. It was hard work, especially since it was obvious that Bessie was losing her strength by the minute, but he was able to slid the tray under Bessie's girth. It was extra wide and filled the space between her front and hind legs. Grabbing another handful of soft, furry flesh, Rodney guided Bessie out of the barn for the first time in a week.

Just a few steps out of the barn doors, Bessie began to pant and sweat. Rodney stroked her neck while they walked at a snail's pace across the yard. "I know it's hard Bessie, but you gotta keep moving. You won't have to worry about this anymore once we get you inside." Bessie's strength gave out less than thirty feet from where they started. She collapsed on the tray and lay there completely out of breath. Rodney leaned against her flank and slapped her side laughing, "This is gonna take a while huh, Bess?" Despite the tray's width, her fat oozed over it and onto the grass, Rodney's plan of pushing her was out of the question. But suddenly another idea popped into his brain. He let out a shrill whistle and waited. Soon, Mary came running out of the barn at the sound of Rodney's call. He patted her on the head and gave her a granola bar. "Ok, Mary." He said, "We gotta get Bessie over there, can you push her?" Mary looked at her quizzically, but she really did look like she was trying to figure out what he wanted. "Like this Mary. Do as I do." Rodney threw his shoulder against Bessie's massive rear and pushed with all his might. Finally, Mary got the idea. She put her head against Bessie and started pushing. As she put her weight in it, Bessie finally budged and began to move. "Yes!" Rodney cried. To his amazement, Bessie even started pumping her legs against the grass, giving it her all. It took two hours, mostly since Mary took a break midway, but finally they arrived at the doors to the second barn. Rodney unlocked the chains on it and opened the doors.

The doors opened into a very large room, easily half of the barn's volume was used in this vast space. On the far wall was a pair of giant sliding doors. The floor was concrete but was painted green, with a texture similar to grass. The walls were concrete as well, but they were painted with images of a wide open grassland. It had the amenities one would expect to find in a cow's stall, a drain in the floor and a large hay bin, but what drew the eye was what was on the ceiling. Skylights let in the sun's dying rays and illuminated an odd sight. Three metal rollers ran the width of the ceiling; each end was set upon a track at either end of the room. The rollers were connected by what looked to be a box with three holes through which the bars ran. Connect to the box was a shiny rope that split and connected to a very, very large cloth that lay spread out on the floor.

This room and the one next door was the culmination of Rodney's plans. In here, Bessie could enjoy several thousand more pounds of mobility (Rodney tended to think of time in relation to the amount that Bessie gained). The box slid up and down the rollers on tiny reinforced wheels, and the rollers, in turn, slid up and down the room, providing total accessibility. The rope and "cloth" were actually made of billions of nanotubes. They had cost a fortune in and of themselves but the fibers were stronger than spider silk and were used on space shuttles. He was sure that his system could support about fifteen thousand pounds, (hopefully) more than Bessie could ever weigh.

"Get up Bessie. This is the last time you'll ever need to worry about supporting your weight. Come on, just a few more feet." Rodney said. Bessie was tired. While no longer panting, she was taking deep heavy breaths and he was sure that she would have loved to go to sleep right there. Mary mooed and started to push Bessie again, but Rodney stopper her, "No, Mary. I can't have that tray there when Bessie gets on the tarp." Mary tilted her head, puzzled, but she didn't try again. When Bessie failed to rouse herself, Rodney sighed, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this. He pulled a large pin out of his pocket and held it to Bessie. "Get up Bessie. I don't want to do this, but you gotta move, I'm not waiting another hour for you to rest." Rodney avoided eye contact; he knew he couldn't take her big blue eyes. Again, she didn't move a muscle. Rodney walked around to her great rump and plunged the pin deep into the shelf of fat on her thighs before he could think about it too much.

Bessie roared and got to her feet immediately, her fat and cellulite jiggling like a house in a hurricane. Mary gave Rodney the evil eye as he removed the pin and tried to take a bite out of his jacket. "Hey, watch it, Mary. It was the only way to get her up." Mary continued to glare at him. Rodney grabbed another thick handful of fat and led Bessie on the tarp. He held the edge down with his foot as her belly slid across the strong, smooth fabric. Rodney positioned her legs through each of the four leg holes and she promptly lied down.

Rodney pulled a remote control out of his shirt pocket. It had six buttons on it, up and down arrows, as well as a four-way direction pad. He pressed the up button and the box above him whirred to life. The tarp drew up around Bessie and both she and Mary were looking around in confusion. As the fabric grew taut, Rodney could see Bessie's fat molding itself to fit the new shape. The whirring grew louder as her bulk was moved further and further up. Finally, Bessie was on her feet once again, her stomach off the ground for the first time in months. Rodney stopped the machine as her belly came up to her ankles. He pulled out his last granola bar and whistled to Bessie. She seemed wary to try out her legs, but the drive to eat was stronger than her fear. While wobbling at first, she soon walked lighter on her feet than Rodney had seen in years and she eagerly gobbled up the sweet, high calorie bar. He stroked her fat neck and led her over to a scale platform in the corner, it was even wider than the one outside and had a higher maximum limit. As she stepped on the scale it read: 1278. "That's one way to lose weight, Bessie." He kissed her on the snout and said, "I want to see you fatter everyday, Bessie. Nothing matters anymore except that you eat and grow bigger. I'll take care of everything, and I guarantee you'll have a long and full life." She mooed and licked him again on the face. Rodney smiled and hugged her while stroking her soft, supple flesh.

Next, he went to Mary, "Thank you, Mary. I couldn't have got her here without your help." She said while stroking her behind the ear, "I want you to come in here everyday and keep Bessie company. OK, Mary?" She looked at him with her mother's blue eyes. "She's not going to be leaving this barn except on a forklift palette, so it's up to you to make sure she doesn't get lonely." Mary mooed and stomped her feet. Rodney smiled and wondered exactly how much of what he said, she understood.

After leading Mary outside and shutting the doors, Rodney said to Bessie, "Now we can have some alone time." All that night Rodney pleasured her as a welcoming to her new, permanent home.

For Bessie, eating was now a full time job which she excelled at doing. Rodney made sure that she had access to whatever calorie laden snacks she wanted at all hours a day. About six times a day, he went out with new and fattening delicacies for her, all in huge proportions. And during the hours he was away, Rodney spied through the cameras and saw her tearing away at the hay bale. During the day, he kept the barn doors open for Mary, and often Jennifer too, to come and visit Bessie. At night he closed them so she could sleep and/or concentrate on stuffing her fat face. Put into a perfect environment, and with enough appetite to motivate her, Bessie's gains soared. Her first week alone, she gained twenty pounds, and as summer crept onto the farm, she managed even greater gains.

By the beginning of May, Bessie was most defiantly immobilized by her fat. Occasionally, Rodney would lower the cable so she could lie on the ground (especially if he felt like lying on top of her like a mattress). Out of curiosity, he held out another treat for her to see if she could stand. She strained and pushed at the earth, her muscles quivering the thick fat around them, but her gut would not longer yield to her demands. She gave up and eyed Rodney pitifully. "Oh, you poor, helpless blob you." He said to Bessie, "Here you deserve a reward for trying so hard." Afterwards, he fed her an even dozen of the granola bars.

Now that it was summer, Rodney thought that Bessie would enjoy the other room in the barn. His slid aside the second pair of sliding doors to reveal a very large, yet fairly shallow, swimming pool. "This is the only place you're going to be able to exercise from now on Bessie." Rodney released some latches that allowed the rollers to come into the second room. Carefully, he led Bessie down a shallow ramp into the water, while simultaneously lowering the cable. Bessie tried first to drink the water, not quite successfully due to the size of her brisket, but she adjusted to it soon. In fact she downright enjoyed being free from her massive, burdening weight, even for a moment. Rodney got in with his trunks and swam around her like a speed boat around an aircraft carrier (maybe manatee is a better analogy). He got her to chase him and play other games with toys like balls and rope. "Gotta get that heart of yours pumping once in a while Bessie. Even if it does burn off some of those precious calories." Rodney had to admit to some rather "dirty" fun with Bessie in the pool as the months wore on once again.

Bessie had grown accustomed to "the easy life," as Rodney called it. After the first few weeks, she didn't mind being restricted to the barn. Rodney now thought that it had been a good idea to let her press up against her limits back in March. It got her used to not roaming around as much. Rodney doubted there was much that she enjoyed more than eating now, besides sex (she was almost as hungry for that as well). Two or three times a week, she went swimming with Rodney and she really enjoyed it. She slept more now, so there was very little time in her typical day when she was both awake and not eating. Mary or Rodney was there at those times and he liked to think that he had provided her with the very best life she could expect (already she had surpassed the average age of her livestock brethren).

By October, Mary was almost fully grown and was a sight to behold. She stood about four and a half feet tall and she still had several more inches to go. Her udder was finally filling in to match her distended gut. This month she weighed in at 1687 pounds. Despite her excess weight, she carried it better than even Bessie had. Her wide chest and shoulders hid how much fat was really there. She was still energetic and like horsing around with Jennifer. Faithfully, she visited Bessie every day though mostly all they did was enjoy each other's company. Rodney had skipped her first heat a few months ago in favor for her complete development and was eagerly looking forward to propagate his new breed. Artificial insemination was all the rage now and it was not hard to buy a few semen samples from several healthy studs. This time, I'll make a bull. They'll all have different fathers, so it won't mess up their genes very much if I breed them.

As Mary was getting ready to produce a new generation of fat cows, Bessie was busy eating her way through the 4000's. In October, she walked onto the scale and Rodney lowered her tether. Her flesh oozed across the floor like melting jelly and the scale read: 4697. "Aw, so close to seven hundred Bessie."

Months of putting on 25 lbs a week really showed. Lying on her belly, she was very nearly as tall as if she was standing and her legs were only bent slightly. The crease on her spine had faded away as the blanket of fat finally grew too thick for it to have any influence. Really, as her fat grew deeper and deeper, it seemed that her limbs were disappearing. Her fore-hooves appeared as thin as twigs sticking out of a blob of gelatin, with the upper portions melding into her expanding girth. Both of her thighs were turned out as far as they would go and seemed to pinch her waistline, despite the fact that they showed no more hint of definition and hung sagging and limp like her brisket of old. Her udder was no longer distinguishable from her belly, except, of course, by the fact that no hair grew there. It had the same fatty consistency as the rest of her paunch and the teats were tiny nodes on her soft yielding flesh. Her belly and the udder stuck out more than a foot behind her, almost like a huge inflatable pool toy. This was an area he had to wash frequently now since her stool and urine couldn't avoid running down her soft pink udder and onto her teats (a risk of developing mastitis).The fact that her legs touched it all the way down to the ground added to the vision that her hind legs were a large wooden clothespin pinching her gut. Another inch or two of her tail had been devoured by the expanding shelf of fat on her thighs. It is hard to describe exactly how very wide she was now. It seemed like she was almost twice as wide as she was tall. Each of her massive flanks was the result of thousands of bales of grass and hay and tons, TONS of barley, corn, carrots, apples, wheat, soy, beans and whatever else she stuffed down her throat. As boundless as her flanks were, her shoulders couldn't hope to match them and remained hilariously narrow in spite of the rest of her. Not to say that the fat wasn't deep there, however. It was hard to tell where her shoulders stopped and her neck began, both were encased in feet of fat. It was impossible to see where her moving parts where in the whole chest area, the whole place was blobby and distorted by fat and clinging cellulite. Her brisket had grown even larger and prevented Bessie from reaching much below her knees without receiving a snoutful of her own fat. It was even bigger now than her udder had been when she was a top milk producer. It was so soft and malleable; Rodney loved to play with it in his hands. It reminded him of an old toy he once had, silly putty, and he couldn't help but give it a nice hard slap every time he walked by Bessie (which set her whole body jiggling and often resulted in an angry glare from her).

It was early December when Mary came, at last, into heat. Rodney had prepared long and hard for this day. With eggs collected from her when she was just a calf, Rodney was able to prepare and modify these embryos weeks in advance. Failing to see any faults with Mary, he resigned himself to simply eliminating genetic diseases from these cows to be. There were four fertilized eggs in the insemination device this time; he wanted her to have two calves this year. Even three wouldn't be bad at her young age, He thought. There were three heifers and one bull. Rodney hoped the bull would take, especially since he wondered how much of his modifications would cross genders, but it wasn't important for this year.

Rodney hadn't actually had sex with Mary yet, but he had fingered her genitals once in a while (though, it never progressed into fisting... yet). Anyways, Mary was perfectly calm as Rodney inserted the tube and "delivered the goods." The next day, as expected, her urine showed a positive pregnancy. Rodney suspected that Mary had a hint of what had happened, for after the first week, she clung to him like an extra arm. She wanted to play with him more and sometimes brought him things he didn't even ask for. Rodney suspected, Maybe she put my penetrating her and her pregnancy together; she's clinging to me like a lover. If that's the case then perhaps she's smarter than I ever imagined. All through her pregnancy, Rodney made sure that Mary had the finest nutrition available as her belly widened. A few months into her pregnancy, Rodney did a simple ultrasound of her belly. Inside, he saw two little heifers floating in her tummy and he smiled.

Nine months past with startling swiftness and soon Rodney was running out towards the barn with his medical kit in hand. Mary had put on a generous 420 lbs while she had been pregnant. This birthing went very easily for Mary, she hardly broke a sweat. Rodney laughed at the way this virgin to birthing shot out her young ones while Bessie had almost died trying to squeeze out Mary. In less than eight hours, Mary was back on her feet and nursing two beautifully shaped and pattered heifers. Rodney named them Jessica and Rebecca.

As much weight as Mary had put on, it paled in comparison to the vast warehouse of fat Bessie was building in her body. In forty weeks, Bessie managed to shoot up nearly 1,000 pounds. She weighed in at 5,738 on the day that the twins were born. It was obvious that her two full tons of fat were beginning to affect her health despite Rodney's best efforts. She always sounded out of breath; she drew deep, raspy, fat clogged breaths through her nearly nonexistent neck. There was simply nothing Rodney could do for her reparatory system however; her symptoms were physical side effects from having so much fat around her body. As she grew fatter, her oxygen demands grew to supply all of her fat cells. At the same time, fat inside her chest cavity restricted how much her lungs could expand. So she was dealt a double whammy by having increased oxygen needs and a lessened ability to obtain it. As a result, she grew very lethargic. Also, despite his work on restricting fat deposits into the liver, it seemed as though her sudden burst in weight gain seemed to be once again endangering her liver's capacity to clean her blood. Rodney was grateful that her arteries remained whistle clean and healthy, although her blood pressure was creeping up from an explosion in extra tissue.

Rodney even thought about cutting off her gain, but every time he saw her, he could only fantasize about how much better she would look with a few extra hundred pounds. Her only joy left is eating, how can I take that away from her... I've already taken her mobility and her health to satisfy my sexual urges. This is only going to have one end. Strengthening his resolve, Rodney gave Bessie as much as she could take, and she complied, completely unaware that her bliss would be the ultimate death of her.

Rodney did all he could for Bessie's health. He put her on a cocktail of medications to fix her ailments and to prevent others. He stroked Bessie's soft flabby fur. Her extra half-ton of weight had raised her up off the ground substantially. She was as tall now as she would have been if she was standing, and Rodney noticed that when she moved her legs with the tarp down, a thick fold of fat would often get caught under her hooves. The thought of her supported helplessly in the air by her own fat made Rodney rock hard and he hugged and scratched Bessie all the more. She had very limited mobility in her neck now; it was all she could to look as Rodney as he lay upon her flank several feet away. Her hind legs were pinned by the pressure exerted by her expanding belly. Like an expanding balloon, her belly was creased where her legs were and expanded on either side of them. Bessie really did resemble a blob of jelly in a lot of ways. Her flanks, of course, were where she stored most of her weight and gave her a round appearance, like a flattened ball of dough. The way that it flowed when the tarp was raised and lowered, showed that it had no tone at all, if you could somehow grab enough of the flesh on her back, and had the strength, Rodney imagined her looking teardrop shaped as she was lifted off the ground. Despite her hindrances, it seemed that with every pound she gained, Rodney's love for her grew. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her, yet it lunged at him unwillingly whenever he worked on her growing health problems.

The two new calves grew up perfectly healthy, or course, this was no surprise since Rodney hand combed through their genetic code for defects before they were even born. They grew similarly to Mary in her youth; never really losing their baby fat, though not growing absurdly obese either.

With Bessie requiring more and more care with every pound she gained, Rodney once again found himself short on time. He couldn't afford to slack off on his work so he did indeed have to cut back on extraneous exams and check-ups on his girls outside the "Big Barn." However, all of them seemed in perfect health (though Rodney did keep a closer eye on Jennifer than the others).

It was strange watching how Mary and her children interacted with each other. It was clear within the month that she knew her babies were different than Jennifer and Bessie. The most amazing part was that Mary was obviously educating her young heifers. It's incredible, Rodney thought as he observed in the field one day. Look, she just cuffed Rebecca for pooping too close to the barn! Nearly everything that Mary had learned, she passed down to her children automatically. Of course, Rodney had to teach them his commands himself. It was also clear that Jessica and Rebecca were developing their own individual personalities and temperaments. Both of them were playful and energetic like their mother, but Rebecca proved to be a little tom boy. She liked to play rough and often pushed Jessica away at the end of the day with many bumps and bruises. Jessica preferred hanging around the adults. She was unusually calm and reserved, much more so that Mary had been when she was her age. Strange part was that, though she was attached to her mother, she equally spent her free time with Jennifer and even Bessie. It touched Rodney's heart to see little Jessica going and spending time with big bloated Bessie, who, not only towered over her, but out massed her by about 35 times her weight.

By the time that the new calves were five months old, Bessie's health took a turn for the worse. For the last month or so, Bessie had been experiencing fits of breathlessness. It was apparent to Rodney now that she was incapable of providing her body with enough oxygen with her normal breathing. Her "attacks" were a natural reaction to her dropping oxygen levels. Also, despite his best efforts, Bessie's fatty liver continued to progress in severity.

Despite all of this, Bessie's appetite remained strong. As her belly continued to grow, however, it began to affect her ability to walk, even suspended as she was. Today, Rodney observed as he prepared to weigh her and perform another routine check-up, her belly hung down to her hooves, not because he had lowered the tarp (in fact, he had to raise it ever higher as she grew), but because her belly was pressing her whole body up. Taking tiny steps and breathing like she was running a marathon, Bessie was led to the corner of the room where she could be weighed. Rodney flushed red as he pressed the down button on his control and Bessie's bulk rushed down to the floor. The numbers of the scale zipped by from under 700 to over 6000. Finally the tarp, and Bessie, was spread out on the floor and the scale's display read: 6211. Rodney nodded his head and said, "Hmmm, good work, Bessie." While he was rubbing her head, he thought, She actually fell below my projections for once. That liver of hers must be starting to have an effect on her appetite; she's seventy pounds lighter than I expected. Even so, her liver is the least of her problems if I can't fix her respiration.

Despite the major chunk of his time and pay that Bessie required now, Rodney couldn't help but admire her form. Her back had been rising noticeably for years, now it was almost even with her head; of course it lowered a bit as it approached her hind quarters. Her shoulders were wide and formless, covered in cellulite as the rest of her. Out of all her previous gains, this latest one seemed to rid her of the most amount of neck. Her brisket seemed to start at the chin since her waddle had widened and filled out. Her shoulders and back worked together in limiting Bessie to about a thirty degree turning radius for her neck. In fact, what was left of her neck seemed to just be a protruding section of her chest region. As her hind legs had done with her paunch, her front legs were now pinching her brisket as it continued to widen and fill with fat. As ever her flanks continued their opposing marches; the two areas on her body where there was nothing to limit their growth. The patterns of her fur there were distorted almost beyond recognition from earlier photos of her; instead of black and white she was now grey and pink. Inch by inch, her hips spread to fit the belly between them. They were almost useless now, if it weren't for the elasticity of her fat, she wouldn't be able to move them at all. Rodney almost drooled as he looked at her, his Goddess of Adipose. She lied there quivering and shaking from the simple force of her breaths.

It was impossible to concentrate on his work; Rodney had to ease his desire if he hoped to help Bessie this day. He started by lying down near her brisket. His back was propped up against the wall of fat behind him and he stroked Bessie thick, blunt neck as he undid his trousers. Bessie was used to this and probably knew what was coming. Free of his bottoms, Rodney flipped around and ran his face and arms all over her shoulders as he rubbed his crotch against her soft, malleable brisket. He was rock hard in an instant and it didn't take long to get himself going. Rodney thrust deeply into her brisket as he grabbed her neck. The tensionless flesh gave way more than a foot into its surface, her soft silk-like fur stimulating him. Rodney squeezed Bessie hard as he climaxed, made all the better by the sensation of his well toned arms sinking inches into her flesh where ever he grabbed. When he finished, Rodney slid back down her front and closed his eyes, letting the euphoria last as long as it could. Finally, he zipped his pants back on and sponged away his seed.

Clear headed for now, Rodney set out to his task. He began routinely by checking her mouth, eyes and ears. Her eyes were most important. She was highly prone to diabetes now and discoloration would point to early signs of that, or liver failure. They were still bright, "Bessie Blue," completely unaffected by the pressures deep within her. Next, Rodney got both stool and urine samples and took some of her blood. Lastly, and by far his favorite part, Rodney checked the consistency of her fat all around her body. He knew by touch what was healthy for her. Any sudden changes could point to fluid retention or worse. The primary areas he checked were, her udder, her brisket, and the under portions of her belly. This was the hardest area to get to now as Bessie could no longer shift her bulk in anyway. For the most part, he relied on the leverage the tarp gave him, after all, it was a much simpler matter to roll her over partially than to lift her. It didn't hurt that Rodney was into getting down under her belly and loved the feeling of having all that fat on top of him. The whole time he had to concentrate through his hornyness to get the job done.

"Well, Bessie, aside from some bed sores, you're looking real good today." He said as he concluded his examination. Bessie mooed, the vibrations of her voice making her waddle/brisket quiver. "I have a present for you. It should help you feel more energized." Rodney grabbed a large medical grade cylinder to which was affixed a long hose and a uniquely shaped mask. "Let's get this on you girl." After a moment's protest, Bessie relented to have the mask put on her (perhaps a sign of her chronic fatigue). Rodney interacted with the display on the cylinder for a moment before a quiet hiss began to issue from it. "It's an oxygen mask, Bessie. This refillable tank's supposed to last a week and has all kinds of neat programmable features. I molded the mask my self. See how it hooks to your nostrils, leaving you free to eat. Hopefully you'll learn to breath out of your nose, I'm sure you'll like the results."

Indeed the results were evident the next day. Bessie cut back on her naps and pranced about her pen. Jessica visited Bessie early in the morning while Rodney was filling her grain. Jessica was maturing into a fine young cow. At well into the mid three hundred's, she was following dictated growth to the letter. She greeted Bessie by rubbing her head against hers and seemed surprised that Bessie responded with an energetic lick. Naturally curious, Rodney had to stop Jessica when she started biting at Bessie's oxygen hose. "No, Jessica." Rodney said in a stern voice. "Bessie needs that hose to stay healthy, Don't eat it." Jessica lowered her head at the rebuttal and stalked off dragging her hooves. Kids, Rodney thought as he shook his head.

Outside, Rodney trudged through the snow of late winter. At over a week past Groundhog's Day, there was still a surprising amount of snow on the ground. Even though it meant more hay to buy for his girls, Rodney was happy, This winter's been the coldest in over a decade. Maybe those new policies President Obama (Jr). instituted really are cutting down on Global Warming. Rodney took a moment to enjoy events outside his own private world before looking for his other cows. It's all too easy to get a hoof infection in this weather... especially considering how much my girls sink into the frozen ground.

Safe and warm in the other barn, he found his other three cows. Rodney stopped by the first stall to give Jennifer a nice rub down while she was lying on her mat of straw. She might have been a dead-end genetically, but she does carry her weight well.

Despite not having a regular high yield diet like his other girls (she still got the occasional, or not so occasional, treat), Jennifer had maintained a slow steady, and most importantly, healthy gain. She seemed to have equalized in the 3,040's. It went up and down, usually by the season, but she was eager at the pasture and hay bail, so it was enough to maintain her high weight. It seemed that her slow gain had allowed her skin to adapt to her fat over time. There was only a small amount of cellulite on her brisket and behind her front legs where the skin bunched against her ribs; the rest of her was rounded and symmetrical. Despite her apparent tone, her flesh was soft and supple, with fur as smooth and welcoming as her mother's. Rodney had pleasured himself against her flesh many times over the years, but he had never penetrated her; to Rodney that was far too special an act and he wasn't, and never would be, close enough to Jennifer to feel comfortable doing that. Like Bessie, Jennifer's gut had grown increasingly narrow as it lowered between her legs. While she walked it swung like a pendulum, and reminded Rodney of earlier days with Bessie. Her brisket was heavy and full, but it didn't sag nearly as much as Bessie's, even when she was at a similar weight. While all traces of her skeletal definition had long ago disappeared, but she, more than any other cow he owned, showed off her muscularity. Her huge rope-like muscles toned her thighs and shoulders and could even be felt if you pressed down very firmly. When Rodney finished patting Jennifer, and the shockwaves stopped rolling over her form, she gave him a very wet thanks before turning her head and going to sleep.

Further down the center row of the barn, Rodney found Rebecca and Mary cuddling together in one stall. Rebecca was fast asleep. Further along in poundage than Jessica, Rebecca weighed in at 498 pounds. She had a stocky, muscular frame like a bulldozer and a personality to match in her waking hours. Her udder hasn't yet started to fill in, so, in this lone regard, Jessica proved to be the elder.

In these past months since the births of the new calves, Mary has only just begun to regain weight. All through her nursing weeks, she lost more than a pound a week; she had only recently begun to regain her weight. However, at 1,964 lbs, Rodney took the time to appreciate her modest obesity and knew that there was plenty of time for her to "fill in."

Mary's coat was thick and smooth, with a strong luster and shine. Rodney had no doubt that she could surpass Bessie in beauty when her time came to fill into the "Big Barn." Her thighs and shoulders were lean, but strong, with a wide stance (just as Rodney had designed. Her utter was small for the Holstein breed; it sat inside the thighs, above the hock, and didn't have the distended look that resulted from years of mass producing milk. While some of his fellow fat animal fans would have disagreed, Rodney thought that this was a definite improvement to the body design; almost harking back to what cows were supposed to look like before centuries of selective breeding altered their form. She was more white than black, all of her belly and most of her face shone like the surface of a pearl. The black patches were as dark as midnight, making a strong contrast. Several large patches were on her back and flanks as well as her forehead. She had the most adorable markings around her eyes, almost like a set of old fashioned stringed glasses, Rodney thought. Her belly was still round and firm, not yet far enough away from the abdominal walls to sink into an oval shape. Like Jessica, her brisket was small, tight and round; almost like an oversized peach affixed to her front. Her hooves were large and wide for a steady stance, they looked a bit funny on her now, but Rodney knew that she would grow into them all too soon. Another improvement had been extra muscle on her "upper" portions of her legs between her hooves and her knees. Normally these are very thin and bony, and with the development of vast stores of adipose, these seemed like thin sticks poking out of the flesh (Bessie was a ready example of this effect). For a more aesthetically pleasing form later in life, Rodney had increased the muscle in the area and even designed them to receive small portions of fat. While the extra muscle was not altogether very much use in lifting the body, it did give Mary a larger sense of muscularity on her form and would probably go a long way in helping her look her best as she grew. However beautiful her physical form was, though, Rodney was even more infatuated with her mind and personality. Despite her inability to talk, she communicated with Rodney better then most people he knew. She had her moods and distinct desires (albeit simple and many revolved around the food tray), and Rodney had grown more than adept at reading them.

She's everything I ever wanting in a woman. Rodney thought, She knows me and I know her... and she's an excellent lover, almost as good as Bessie. For a moment he grew depressed as unwanted thoughts crept into his mind, She's the only one who's going to get me through Bessie's death. It's like sitting on the train tracks but not being able to move. You're going to get hit eventually, but there's nothing you can do about it but think about how much it's going to hurt. Rodney tried to push these gloomy thoughts away by focusing on Mary and her children, indeed, the birth of a whole new breed of cow; one that would be smarter and fatter than any others that came before. But he found that the depression grew harder and harder to push away as time wore on and Bessie's health continued to deteriorate (albeit at a slower rate than before).

* * *

Later that year as summer waned and a few of the trees around the farm began changing colors early, Rodney was re-shingling his roof in preparation for winter. Taking a short break, he reflected on what a nice summer it had been. That oxygen was just that thing ol' Bess needed. She really perked up after that, though it did complicate swimming a bit. And what a wonderful 30th birthday I had back in May. Rodney smiled, I thought my dick would fall off by the end of it. She's gotten so big now. She's almost as big as my fantasies of her were (...well at least most of them). Mary, Rebecca and Jessica have grown so much too.

His ladies were out in the field today, enjoying the grass while they could before it browned. Jennifer was there, grazing intently as always, afraid to miss a single blade. Both Rebecca and Jessica were romping about the yard. Amazingly, they motions closely resembled a game of tag. Both of the youngsters had grown considerably. Incredibly, Rebecca proved to be not completely as Rodney had planed. She was heavily barrel-chested and carried most of her weight on her chest and hips. He didn't find the design very attractive. I prefer huge sagging guts. She's built more like a stocky horse. That just goes to show the unpredictability of genes; even when you have it all in front of you, you never truly know until they are actually alive. Rodney decided to give her more time to "fill in," though. I'll have to neuter her if she continues this way. I don't want frames like that popping up every few generations in my new breed. Despite how often he thought about the long lasting impact of creating a new breed, Rodney hadn't yet thought of a name for it. Something will come...

Jessica, on the other hand quickly became Rodney's "favorite little girl." She just tipped the scales at 763 pounds. She was just a little bit chubby and was still lean and fast. She was also a fan of exploration and often circled the yard at the fence near the woods. The barbed wire deterred her for now, but Rodney would have to get something stronger if she continued to test the boundaries. She was now 14 months old and, while neither calf had yet entered estrus, she was had a very mature appearance and demeanor. Like her mother, she was tall; 4'2 at the shoulder. Her utter had filled in during the summer and was ready to start making milk as soon as she was impregnated. Of course, Rodney had no intentions of breeding them yet. I'll soon have a real farm here if I keep making more cows, and each require extra special care... not to mention the food bill.

Mary was definitely on Rodney's mind as she plumped over the summer. This was the first time she was able to simply chow down since she entered adulthood. While she was not nearly as aggressive or greedy at the food trough, it was clear she had inherited her mother's appetite. Still, three times a day she gulped down grain, rice, wheat or whatever the feeder was stocked with that week. Even as often as that was, Mary felt to the need to come to Rodney as he worked out in the yard, happy to help, of course, but always giving him that same, hungry look. And Rodney was more than happy to oblige, in fact, he often carried a large satchel of snacks for his girls (all of whom had learned long ago that they were well rewarded for their efforts). Aside from fetching things, Mary, and her children, proved to be most wonderful farmhands. They carried things, they held things in place, and they used their strength and bulk to help Rodney with heavy loads.

Rodney took a sip of water out of a plastic container as he continued to look out over the field. Mary was there, lying in the warm rays of the sun, taking a bite out of the lawn every few moments. She managed to add 150 lbs to her thick frame over the summer, finally breaking one ton at 2,108 lbs this September. Rodney rather liked the small gains. He thought he had craved the extreme explosions in fatness, but he found that a slow gain made the body look much more elegant in obesity, as well as having the decided benefit of extending their lives. Mary was three years old now and Rodey held hope for about two more decades with her if he was careful and patient with her gains. I'll be "over the hill" myself then. Thanks to the miracles of modern health care, I'll have upwards of seventy years more with my girls, maybe even more if Gentech puts its money in the right places.

He took a moment to admire her form, the result of his most successful work in genetics of his entire career. Unlike Jessica, Mary had most definitely moved beyond "chubby." On his on personal continuation of the standard nine point body condition guide, she ranked as a 9.5, almost to next step after "Very Fat" which he called "Obese," Rodney's scale went up to 18 (Bessie was at about 16.5 so there was lots of room for improvement). Even at her weight, her broad frame carried her extra weight like it was meant to be there, indeed, she would look ridiculous without her extra "fluffiness." Her small utter had dropped slightly as her belly expanded; it's nestled comfortably between her thighs, her mature teats reaching just below her hocks. Almost all of her skeletal definition had vanished. Her ribs, spine and pin bones were all buried deep under the skin. The last remaining traces of her bone structure were her hook bones, they protruded slightly on either side of her hips like broad mole hills slowly disappearing under a rising tide. Her brisket had grown slightly but it was apparent that this was not an area her body naturally sent her fat reserves. Lastly, her flanks were wide and round. Her abdomen was very spherical and spread out like a giant beach ball.

The sight of Mary's girth turned Rodney's thoughts towards the mountain of flesh that was Bessie. I can get this done later, I've got some business to take care of. Rodney though with a sly smile. Once he was down the ladder, Mary immediately came to greet and shadow him. "Not right now, Mary, I want to have some privacy with Bessie... Unless you want to make it a threesome." Said Rodney.

Maybe it was his body language, maybe it was the subtle change in his pheromones that gave away Rodney's intentions, but it was clear that Mary had no intentions of sharing. She flicked her tail rather defiantly and stalked off, though not before trying to take a bite out of Rodney's sleeve. "Watch it, girl, no need to take it out on me, a simple no would've sufficed. And I'll get to you tonight, I swear." It was moments like these that made Rodney laugh at himself inside. Does this make me a polygamist? Both my girls would fight over my attention if one of them wasn't half crippled and confined to the barn. It almost gave Rodney a sense of power. I wonder if those ancient kings with their harems of women felt anything like this... maybe the local farmer who fucked his camels would be a better analogy. Rodney gave a great laugh out loud as the image popped into his brain.

I opened the doors of the barn to reveal the grand sight of the object of his worldly desires. Her belly scraped against the ground as she struggled to get enough friction against the ground to move herself towards Rodney. He had been forced to lower the tarp down to the ground just so her feet could reach the ground. It was a major turn on for Rodney to watch Bessie struggling to reach her feet to the ground. Soon she'll be truly immobile, totally incapable of moving herself in anyway. With a visible bulge in his crotch, Rodney walked over to Bessie and tickled the sac of fat under her chin. She mooed and drew a deep breath from her oxygen mask. As she gained over the summer, she needed continually higher amounts of oxygen to maintain her energy levels. Rodney also noticed that when he refilled the tank every week, Bessie almost immediately was overcome by a fit of breathlessness. She began by pant and if Rodney wasn't fast enough, she started gasping for breath; sweat would pour down her face and her eyes would frantically dart in every direction. This summer alone, she had progressed from a 40% oxygen level to a 60% level. Rodney feared what might happen if her tank ran out or her hose sprung a leak while he wasn't watching.

But her health conditions were far from Rodney's mind as he pulled out the pulley's remote control from its slot near the door. He pressed the down lever and the tarp let Bessie flesh roll out onto the floor. Twenty-two pounds a week over the summer had brought her up to 6,834 pounds. She waggled her hind legs uselessly as they were supported in mid-air by her behemoth gut. Her legs pressed in tightly against her expanding flesh, though now there was a permanent fold of fat under her hooves, separating them from the ground they once trod. Her hips were wide spread, if you looked at her from her rump it almost looked like she was doing the splits; it would have been impossible for her to extend them that far it hadn't been for years of slowly forcing them apart. The fat that stuck out from behind her rear legs pushed out even farther. The soft pink flesh there was covered with a soft, thinly spread down of once thick white fur (as was similar to the rest of her underbelly); it was constantly bombarded by her stool and urine, however, and clean-up became increasingly unpleasant as the shelf widened. Surprisingly, her utter had returned to its once downward direction, although, it now rested on the ground well behind her hooves as opposed to between her thighs. That pink hairless patch of skin, as well as her teats, were now hidden from view as they were forced to rest on the concrete. As ever, her flanks widened and spread. They were completely without tone, yet the skin was kept relatively smooth from the pressure exerted by her multiple tons. Rodney noticed that her widest point had dropped somewhat. Before, it had been slightly lower than the halfway point between her shoulders and the ground, now it was almost below her front knees. The flesh drooped towards the ground, the skin seemingly unable to maintain its composition. Rodney guess that was due to her age, she wasn't young anymore; at a full ten years old, Bessie was almost double the typical slaughter age for a dairy cow, and estimates for a normal Holstein's life span vary from 12 to 25 years. No one knows because no one ever let's them die naturally, Rodney feuded.

Bessie's upper torso was also showing signs of age, the widest portion of her brisket was now adjacent to the floor. It seemed that the tissue was more liquid than solid, the loose bunchy skin was the only factor that added to its consistency. Between her belly pressing forward and her brisket pushing back, her front legs were almost absent from view. Yet these two twigs were all that was left of Bessie's means of locomotion. The front legs disappeared into her folds of fat well below the knee, her hooves and ankles protruded from the warped flesh as if her shoulders were located a foot off the ground. The tops of her shoulders had come level with her head, leaving nine full rolls of fat that spiraled from her ears past her buried shoulders and made Rodney think of the Michelin Man. Her neck was nearly absent; her head looked like it came out a slightly protruding piece of her upper torso. From it hung her overloaded brisket, deep creases in the flesh ran from the underside of her snout all the way down to the floor feet in front of her. Left with less than fifteen degree turning radius, and almost no vertical maneuverability, it was harder than ever now for Bessie to free feed. Rodney had thought of surgically installing a feeding tube, but he decided against it, he wanted her to have the experience of eating; it was one of the few activities of which she was now capable. To solve the problem. Rodney had procured a free standing hay bin and adjusted it for Bessie's height. All she had to do now was stick her face into a huge bin of food and vacuum all the calories she desired into the seemingly infinite depths of her body.

Rodney grabbed Bessie by both of her sagging jowls and gave them a nice jiggle. He then brought his head to hers and sent his arms into the bundles of fat on either side of her head. He pushed them deep into the rolls and flaps and wrinkles until they were completely submerged into her flesh, he felt her heat and sighed with raging desire. Rodney wanted to sink down into her flesh, free to explore the warehouse of adipose that had become her body. She treats her body like a temple, Rodney thought, or at least, a Christian cathedral. Her skin was loose and he brought his hands up around her neck while still inside her flesh and hugged her tightly. Bessie responded with a few energetic licks. As ever, her blue eyes shone out from her fat cheeks, they looked a little smaller now that her cheeks were so puffy, but still they were bright and aware.

It had become quite a walk to get around Bessie's massive flanks. She stomped her front legs against the ground and struggled uselessly with her hind ones as Rodney left her narrow field of vision. He ran his hand along her thin fur, loving the fact that he was over five feet away from her rib cage. Nothing but an ocean of fat lay between the outer edges and her inner body. Rodney shivered, remembering that an equally vast ocean spread out on the other side of her.

Her ass is soo huge! Normally, being a quadruped meant having a relatively small butt, but the thickness of her thighs and the fatty tissue all around that area gave it a greatly widened appearance. However much, he felt like pleasuring Bessie, Rodney didn't want to spend that much time right now. He had other chores to do today before the light faded and he continued past her and grabbed a stool from a small supply closet.

Using the stool, Rodney clamored onto her massively wide back. She's so much bigger and softer then my mattress. When she's immobile, maybe I should sleep on her instead. Rodney grinned at the thought as he stripped off his cloths and sank deep into her fat. Using his whole body, Rodney massaged Bessie's back and flanks. Her supple pink skin was soft and yielding, her fur was thin yet silky smooth. Rodney wished he could simply relax and sink into her flesh, but desire burned within him like a raging beast. Rodney flipped onto his belly, closed his eyes and explored Bessie's flesh with every appendage available to him. He grunted as he approached climax. He was hot as he sat atop Bessie, sweat dripped down his body as he caressed and thrust into the soft thin fur and. He grabbed handfuls of Bessie's flesh as he arched his back in mid climax. Light burst in Rodney's head, wiping thought and emotion away, leaving only pure pleasure, one everlasting moment. He lay on Bessie's fat engorged back as the last vestiges of ecstasy bled out of him like water through filter paper.

Twice more he pleasured himself thusly while he lied on Bessie like an overstuffed mattress. When he was totally spent, he cleaned her up with a moist towel and made sure she had a "healthy" sized treat before he left her. Using the last of the daylight, Rodney put the final touches on his roof before returning to his den at dusk.

He was making a poster. It was a very large poster that took up most of the wall on one side of his bedroom and it contained several pictures of Bessie. It was titled: "The Johnson Body Condition Score Guide." The chart was made up of the numbers 8-18 and contained many lines of text and pictures under each category. The numbers 17 and 18 did not have pictures, however. Under the title, in parentheses were the words: "For Body Condition Scores 1-7 please refer to the standard nine point American scale."

Under the first number, eight, was a picture of Bessie on the very first day she arrived on the farm. The text there read: "Fat:'" The second to last rating on the standard nine point BCS scoring guide. The standard definition is, "Squared appearance due to excess fat over back, tailhead, and hindquarters; extreme fat deposition in brisket and throughout ribs; excessive fat around vulva and rectum, and within udder; mobility may begin to be restricted." I would like to add, "The minimum acceptable body condition. This withered state requires immediate supplementation in diet."

Next was number Nine. This entry contained a picture of Bessie a few months after her arrival, well before Rodney's adjustment to her Leptin levels: "Very Fat." The last rating on the standard nine point BCS scoring guide. Standard definition is: "Similar to BCS 8, but to a greater degree; majority of fat deposited in udder limits effective lactation." Not very descriptive at all, I'll add, "Tail head is buried as the loin had risen to submerge the pin bones. Abdomen is much wider than the chest, both of which are smooth with deep fat deposits. Thighs should be thick and strong, soft to the touch, yet firm underneath. The vertebrae should no longer be palpable or only the tips can be felt with great pressure. Brisket should be large and round; the amount it sags will depend on individual body type.

After than was body score Ten: "Obese." The first installment of my nine point addition to the Body Condition Score Guide. The heifer should be approaching one ton in weight, unless she has an exceptionally large, or small, frame. The Brisket is large and heavy, it sags well and should be at or below the front knees. The belly is large and circular, it hangs well below the hocks. The utter should be even with the belly and have a very high fat content (Note, obesity of this and greater magnitude greatly impairs efficient milk production. Expect significant drops in gallons per day as weight increases). The belly is wide and contacts both inner thighs, indeed, it may already be pushing them into a bowlegged position. A cow of this condition will have a definite waddle as mobility begins to be hampered. The hook bones are absent, but may still be palpable. The hindquarters should be smooth and have a blocky appearance. Cellulite may begin to appear on the body if the heifer is gaining quickly or is of advanced age. Deep fatty deposits should appear between pre-existing bone structures.

Eleven was labeled: "Very Obese." We finally begin to progress into extreme obesity. Severely over conditioned heifers who do not posses a leptin deficiency will find their appetites cut as internal pressure builds around their internal organs. Cows must continue to feed or rapid weight loss will result in Ketosis or other symptoms of Fat Cow Syndrome *Fat cows, at any of these BC scores, who lose their appetite are in mortal danger. All measures must be taken to maintain some form of regular diet* The Holstein heifer, modified or no, should have broken her first ton. Massive abdominal distension is apparent, the amount of sag will differ from cow to cow, some may show early signs of pannus formation (Here I operationalize the term "pannus" in the bovine as the transition from a circular, or sphere-like belly to an oval, sagging one). Spine curvature may become apparent depending on the length of the heifer. Brisket begins to intrude on the thickening neck and widens substantially. A spinal crease forms on the back of the animal as a result of deepening fat. Expect decreased mobility in the neck and all limbs. Utter may begin to turn sideways as belly sinks lower and may begin to protrude out between the hind legs. Physical activity will decrease as more and more effort is needed to shift their bulk.

Twelve showed a delightful picture of Bessie a few months after Jennifer and Molly were born: "Voluptuous." This is the absolute maximum condition score a heifer should be at when calving. Higher BCS's can result in life threatening birthing, even if she is young. This is also the highest BCS before the heifer should be considered physically handicapped. Higher BCS's will require extra attention and care; also expect a higher incident of disease and injury after this BCS level and a generally reduced life span. A slight pannus should be observable in all cows at this level of obesity. It hangs below the hock and will probably inhibit the ability to run. The chest is wider than the forelegs, leading to bunching skin at the fore ribs. The size and sag of the brisket will vary wildly with the animal, but generally, it will be almost even with the chin in a standard competition pose. Depending of the nature of the gain and the muscularity of the animal, heavy cellulite deposits may or may not be apparent. The loin had risen to form a shelf of fat that sits on the thighs; it will only be a few inches deep. Lastly, the "spinal trench" will deepen into an obvious crease and may become a fold in the skin.

Thirteen shows a considerable jump in weight for Bessie; here she is a few about a month before she became pregnant with Mary. The text reads: "Burdened." All cows meeting this and higher BC scores should not be part of the normal herd as they will require special attention and will be more prone to diseases such as diabetes and metabolic conditions such as Ketosis. Under no circumstances should they be allowed to become pregnant. The heifer is considered physically handicapped at this point. She will not be capable of movement faster than a slow trot, and even that will quickly tire her. This is due to the massive size of the pannus. It hinders movement of the hind legs forward and will cause them to become bowlegged. The utter will have turned sideways as the belly dropped. The teats must be cleaned several times a day, preferably every time the cow evacuates as stool is prone to hitting the teats and can cause mastitis, even in non-lactating heifers. The thighs are overly thick and heavy with fat, unless the cow is lame, however, thick ropey muscles should be present to maintain mobility. The chest also sags well below the front knees. Depending on the cow, the brisket may begin to hinder grazing performance as it can block the heifer from reaching their head to the ground. The upper portions of the front legs will also be extremely fatty and may appear to be fusing into the torso; mobility there shouldn't be hampered, however, unless the skin is excessively tight. At this point the cow is about as wide as she is tall. Massive flanks should be filled will soft, yet firm fat. The widest point will vary with age, it should be halfway from the back to the under belly in young cows, in older cows, it may hang as low as ¾ of the way down. Make sure that you facilities are equipped with extra wide doors for maneuverability. The spinal crease should begin to disappear as the skin moves farther away from the skeletal structure. It will broaden and shallow as fat reserves continue to wax. Expect limited lateral mobility in you cow's neck as fat deposits swarm and encase it in a tight hold.

The next level held a picture of Bessie many months after Mary had been born. Number 14 read: "Heavily Burdened." *Note, unless you have the appropriate facilities and equipment to maneuver multiple ton animals, this should be the maximum BCS your heifer should attain. In fact, if one lacks aforementioned equipment, a weight loss program should be initiated as this BCS may result in immobility in advanced age or as a result of injury.* Physical handicaps will be apparent at this weight level. Additional forage must be made available to the animal if her brisket prevents adequate grazing; remember, lack of low yield forage in the diet can result in a displaced abomasum, or other debilitating intestinal conditions. The pannus hangs low to the ground, either at the ankles or hooves. The hind legs are very bowlegged and prevent movement faster than a slow waddle. Expect frequent fatigue and extended periods lying down. Do not keep these animals on their feet for more than a few hours at a time as it will cause excess wear and tear on the ankles and knees. The flanks also hinder the heifer's ability to walk as they must move up and down to allow for forward movement in the hind legs; at this advanced condition, this will prove very tiring for the cow. Spinal curvature will be at its maximum. Watch for signs of back pain if your heifer spends extended time at this BCS. Unless the cow had gained very quickly, she should not be lactating anymore and the utter should be of the same fatty consistency as the rest of the belly. The brisket will still vary wildly, but it will hamper even the smallest chested heifer to some degree at this point. Make sure that additional roughage is available if only out of ease for your cow. Typically, it will stick out more than her snout in the standard competition pose. The under side of the neck too, will begin to be absorbed into the extra loose tissue. The neck may be up to twice as thick at the base as in BCS 6, she will probably begin physically maneuvering her whole body to reach things that she once was able to reach by twisting her neck so please be aware of your animal's bulk to avoid injury to yourself and her. The spinal crease will be a barely perceptible dip in the broad back, or absent completely. The loin will be many inches deep at this time and forms a crease as it widens over the thighs. The meat here will be very malleable like the brisket and will begin devouring centimeters off of the heifer's tail.

Here now is a more recent picture from earlier this year, a week or two before Bessie entered the Big Barn. The text for number 15 reads: "Immobile." This title is a bit of a misnomer in that a cow in the earliest stages of this BCS may be capable of limited movement. Make no mistake, however, your heifer will be truly immobile within a months of attaining this score unless a strict, weight-loss diet is implemented. The major event of this score is the belly making contact with the floor. This is a sign of extreme hindrance in all forms of self locomotion. The heifer will not be capable of supporting her weight for much more than an hour at a time, and that period will shorten drastically unless weight gain ceases. Expect extended periods of non movement in your cow. Remember, getting up is a monumental effort on her part when she is this heavy; she will not suffer the strain unless there is something important to do. However, make sure that your heifer does not spend more than 48 hours lying in one position, make her get up if only to prevent bedsores ( she should be well rewarded for the effort, though). Make sure that the general living area of the cow is free of small rocks and other sharp debris as she will be prone to cutting her soft, tender under belly on the floor. The belly is wider than the space between the hind legs at this point, causing them to pinch the fat between them. Remember to clean the utter and teats regularly to prevent mastitis. The teats should have shrunk to tiny nodes at this point from the long non-lactation period (If you value the life of your heifer, make sure that bulls are kept away from a cow of this Body Score at all times, unless she is neutered. She will be virtually incapable of refusing a male's mount and birthing will almost certainly cost the cow her life). The chest will probably not be in contact with the floor, unless the cow has an extremely well developed brisket. The width to height ratio should be between 1.5 and 2.25 at this point and will become a major tool for measuring BCS. The back will be devoid of any dipping and will begin to develop a convex surface as it bulges out. The brisket may render the heifer completely incapable of grazing depending on its size; in any case, a heifer should have access to easily reachable roughage at head level. The crease between the loin and thighs is very prominent, be sure to clean this area during regular washings or the area may become irritated or possibly infected. The heifer's original markings will have become very distorted by the expanding skin; do not rely on them for identification. Also, the hair on all parts of the body will have become thinner, especially in areas of extreme growth, such as the back, belly, flanks, and brisket. Make sure every inch of your animal is kept clean and parasite free as insects will have easier access to the vulnerable skin underneath. Also, if your cow contains a lot of white pigmentation, she may become prone to sunburn as the hairs stretch apart and expose more skin. Darker colors will be more protective, but make sure your animal has access to shade within her ability to walk.

This was the last entry with a picture. It contained a fabulously obese Bessie in mid-summer standing (or oozing, depending on your point of view) in the best standard competition pose she could manage. Number 16 read: "I deal." Your cow should only be allowed to reach this level of fatness if you are properly equipped to handle her. You must have some sort of hydraulic lift with multiple ton capacity and a harness that will not damage her as she is moved. Bed sores will develop quickly if she is not allowed to rotate off of her belly once and a while. If left untreated (and this is likely if the owner is incapable of shifting her bulk), they can and will become infected, eventually leading to a fatal blood infection. Cows of this BCS will also be much more prone to a multitude of diseases and disorders, and they must have regular veterinary check-ups to ensure their health. At this level, almost the entire width of the belly should rest comfortably on the floor. The heifer will most defiantly be incapable of moving or getting up. Exercise is still important and you should have some sort of pool for her. Exercise must be taken slow and easy, do not stress your obese cow. Workouts should end soon after visible signs of fatigue. Her width to height ratio should range between 2.25 and 3.0 (remember that this range covers the entire time spent at this BCS, do not worry if your cow doesn't meet the exact numbers). The brisket will most likely rest on the ground unless your cow is very lightly endowed. Expect very limited mobility in the neck, both laterally and vertically. Make sure she has access to food stuffs that do not require her to reach far either to the left of right. The shoulders are thick and heavy with fat, they rise almost to head level. The neck will be so thick as to begin being absorbed into the chest. Listen for signs of heavy and obstructed breathing as this may be caused by fat constriction of the windpipe. Also notice that the front legs will begin pinching the widening chest and brisket as the hind legs pinch the pannus. Note that at this level, all four hooves are planted squarely on the ground. An unavoidable side effect of this BCS will be chronic fatigue as the heifer requires more and more oxygen to feed her stores of adipose. If she experiences fits of breathlessness on a regular basis, oxygen must be supplied, or she must begin a weight loss program immediately.

No picture for this score yet but Rodney knew that Bessie would meet this goal probably by Christmas. Number 17: "Ideal Plus." Cows of this magnitude of obesity should be examined thoroughly at least four times a year by a qualified vet, preferably monthly. This level of conditioning will negatively impact your heifer's health. Be prepared to spend lots of time and money on proper medications and treatments for your cow. Also be aware that you are actively shortening your cow's lifespan by pursuing continued weight gain, or even maintaining BCS 17. I define this score with the onset of complete support of the body by fat. The heifer will not be capable of reaching the ground with her hooves, she is supported in midair by the sheer volume of her fat (note that the hind legs will be supported well before the forelegs, the heifer is not in BCS 17 until she is completely supported by her own fat). At this time, her widest point will lay closer to the ground than her back, no matter her age. Her width to height ratio could be anywhere between 3.0 and 4.0, as body type at this point really only depends on the tightness of the heifer's skin, which loosens with age. Oxygen will defiantly be required even if you begin a weight loss regiment. Do not allow her to hyperventilate for any longer than is necessary as I believe that this extreme weight can cause loss of consciousness within minutes. Her utter will rest on the floor with the rest of her belly, make sure to check the teats often for signs of mastitis. The fat will begin to envelop all four limbs as she continues to grow. Make sure to clean the areas of constant contact and all of her other creases and folds. Your heifer should be encouraged to flail her limbs around, no matter the futility, even at this level, the heart needs stimulation as blood can become mal-circulated at extreme distances from the heart. The brisket will spread out on the floor, no matter the body type. Do not be concerned by the thinness of the upper limbs. These do not usually receive fat stores and will remain twig-like however fat she may become. At this point, your cow will have been rendered immobile for quite a while; remember to shave down her hooves even if they become obscured by folds of flesh. Also, observe how she eats, the thickness of her cheeks may cause her to bite the insides of them as she chews. If bleeding in the mouth is chronic, a feeding tube or reductive surgery should be considered. The loin should be about a foot or more thick and may begin to run over the thighs, make sure that this area is kept clean. Diseases to look out for are Diabetes, Fatty Liver, and Hypertension. All are possibly fatal if left undiagnosed. Also be aware of her cardiac health. If she had been raised on a high fat diet or has a history of it in the family, she may be prone to congestive heart failure from thousands of pounds of excess tissue and hundreds of thousands of miles of extra capillaries. Also, you will need to check for signs of poor blood flow in the fat. The utter should be bright pink and all areas of the body should be warm, soft, yet supportive. If blood flow is poor in the outer reaches of the flesh, options include (but are not limited to) a heart steroid, blood thinner, surgically implanted arteries and veins, or even weight loss. Lastly, be sure of the fat consistency on all areas of the body, check regularly for lumps and soft spots. These could indicate anything from fluid retention to necrotic adipose or cancer.

Finally we have the last section on the poster. Rodney hoped that he would have a picture of Bessie for this last degree of obesity, though Rodney wondered sometimes if you couldn't go beyond this. He set the bar very high, yet with Mary's health and potential he wondered. Number 18 read thusly, "Super." *warning, this definition is incomplete due to inexperience and is subject to change* This BSC is only to be attempted by the most devout fat fetishists. Do not try for this level if you want a long, healthy life for your cow as this level of obesity will put severe strain on your animal and is ultimately fatal. The biggest challenge will become simply continuing to keep up your heifer's appetite. While internal pressure on the stomachs does not tend to increase much after BCS 13, she will defiantly have some symptoms of fatty liver by now no matter how you control her diet. Fatty liver will reduce your cow's normal liver functionality and release appetite suppressants as a natural response. Make sure, now more than ever, that she does not eat less than half her prior intake, even if you decide to begin weight loss (though at this point there seems to be little use, the damage is done and even dropping upwards of one ton will not significantly increase her life span). Such massive metabolic demands by the adipose require equally massive amounts of food; starvation and ketosis may occur from slight dips in intake if she is in equilibrium. I believe that there is a maximum limit on weight for any animal. Eventually your heifer will become so massive that factors that limit weight gain will become equal with those that increase it, however hard you try to continue a positive weight influx. I do not recommend appetite stimulants or feeding hoses unless you intend to keep your heifer on those permanently. These will simply raise the equilibrium limit and will ultimately hurt your cow if they should be removed and thus rendering her incapable of maintaining her weight no matter how hard she tries. The fight against chronic fatigue will be an ongoing battle while at BCS 18. High quality oxygen will be required to keep her active long enough during her day to consume the needed amount of calories. Do not allow her to be deprived of oxygen at any time except between tank changes (even then a spare tank for her while you change it isn't a bad idea). I suspect that hyperventilation would occur immediately and cardiac arrest from hypoxia could happen within minutes. Continue your vigilance of the health disorders I mentioned in BCS 17, she becomes more prone to them with every pound she gains. In addition to the health concerns, I define BCS 18 as when the limbs have disappeared from sight. They have become embedded in the expanding fat which has grown around them; there is nothing left but deep folds under her "shoulders" and on her posterior. The neck will also be absent. The head will be totally encased in fat rendering it almost completely immobile. The back will be much higher than her head, and her ears may become buried in fat causing partial deafness. Blindness too may result from overly thick cheeks combined with fat on her brows. Her brisket should drop straight down from the tip of the chin or, more likely, curve away in front of her. This may limit her ability to open her jaw (I doubt this condition though, as the brisket has almost no tension in its tissue). Feeding will be difficult at this point; a downward sloping tray of high yield food (this has the distinct possibility of causing suffocation though), hand feeding or a feeding tube may be your only options. Body shape at this point will depend mostly on her current environment and the environment in which she gained. Expect a massively round body that curves up to a large, uneven, blobby back (Something like a large ball of dough that has been dropped onto the floor). The width to height ratio at this point is considered as anything above 4.0 and beyond. Exercise of any sort will be impossible, still it will be good for your cow to experience dips in the pool, even if she can't swim or move her legs. Her tail may well be the last mobile appendage left to her; use it as a form of enrichment and stimulation for your heifer. Remember to value her quality of life. If you loved her enough to spend the exuberant amount of time and money to bring her to this state, don't wimp out on her, because she needs you now more than ever. But also, remember that she is a living creature, not just an object of sexual fascination. It is your duty to enrich her life as much as you can because at this point, the quality of her remaining life lies squarely in your hands. Whether she remains happy despite great limitations or whether her own body becomes the most terrible of prisons is entirely up to you.

This brings me to this last piece of advice, prepare for her death. If you, like me, are fascinated by the beauty of fat, then almost certainly you have become attached to your heifer as well as any family member or lover. Remember that she will have died regardless of the fact that you have fattened her so. In fact, if you saved her from a dairy farm or slaughter house, you may well have given her many more long years of happy and indulgent life. If you have taken care of her health, even a BCS 18 cow will not have had its life shortened by more than a decade out of a maximum 25 years for a Holstein. Fat, in and of itself, is not deadly and a BCS 12 cow can expect an insignificant decrease in her life (and quality of life) compared to the "optimum" BCS 5-6. However, it is important to remember that it was you and you alone that caused her obesity, do not blame your animal for its appetite for it was you who controlled how much she got. Take responsibility for what you did, but do not brood on her departure, think of the happy years she had and how much better off she was since you entered her life.

That last part was the hardest to write for Rodney. The whole chart was more of an exercise for Rodney than to actually inform and instruct others; he realized that it had turned into more of a care guide towards the end than a simple BCS chart. It had helped him a lot. Rodney had braced himself as much as he could for the emotional train wreck ahead. In fact, he looked forward to getting a picture for BCS 17, and perhaps someday, BCS 18 as well. Rodney also thought that this chart would make an excellent memorial for Bessie. Needless to say, the zoophiles on the internet ate it up when he posted the text of the chart. Of course, it was under the pretense of fiction, no one ever thought that it could be a viable guide after BCS 11. Indeed, no on imagined that a BCS 16.5 cow even existed let alone lived comfortably in a barn less than 400 feet away from Rodney's house.

* * *

Rodney did get his Christmas present that year soon after she broke 7,200 lbs; it became apparent that she couldn't place her front hooves on the ground anymore. His picture for BCS 17 had her in a merry Santa Claus hat. Rodney buckled the leg openings shut on Bessie's tarp and kept her on the floor now for the greater part of the day. There's no point in suspending her if her feet don't reach the ground. Thought Rodney. He only raised her now to move her into the pool and perform examinations. She had moved up one grade of oxygen to 70%, the highest non medical grade there was. Rodney was thankful now for getting his doctorate and having access to hard to come by materials such as high quality oxygen. In the pool, she was still very much active (at least with respect to her normal activity level). She used her legs like paddles on a trireme to build momentum, though she had basically lost any ability to steer. While she spent her days trapped on her belly like a beached whale, Rodney placed a large tray of food directly in front of her, so she could chow down any time she felt like it (which was all the time). She defiantly adapted well to her situation. She really seemed happy to Rodney even if she had grown quite lazy.

On that Christmas day, Rodney held a veritable photo shoot for Bessie, and she positively enjoyed the attention. Some of them were taken while she was on her belly, others featured her on her side, and Rodney even got one of her on her back before she made her protests clear by flailing her limbs about and giving Rodney a rather large bruise on his left arm. Rodney marveled at the way Bessie's body was able to store the fat. She was very heavy in the brisket, it rested feet in front of her, and flopped over her head and down on the floor when she was inverted (one of the reasons she became so angry). The fact that her limbs were useless in almost any regard did not stop her from trying to reach the ground and walk with them every time Rodney walked around her. The shockwaves and ripples caused by her movements never ceased to turn Rodney's cheeks bright red as he lusted for her. While here was only a few inches between her forehooves and the ground, there was over one and a half feet separating her hind legs from the concrete. They had curled up into a fetal-like pose, possibly to minimize the amount they pinched her flesh. Rodney had to manually exercise her hind legs for her to avoid atrophy. Despite his efforts, though, the once strong and firm fat had become rather soft like her loin as the muscles withered. She still swished her tail energetically and was prone to wagging it whenever Rodney came in after a long absence (which, to Bessie, constituted as anything longer than an hour). Her gut was slug-like in the way it was flattened against the ground and Rodney was currently treating her for 23 different bed sores on her underbelly. He thought this was a great success considering the 150 or so square feet of skin that was in constant contact with the floor.

Despite her extreme limitations, Bessie remained sociable and relatively energetic (she was still far above Molly's lowest point). Jennifer didn't really bother with visiting Bessie, she was far too busy trying to maintain her weight. However, Mary, Jessica and Rebecca made it a point to spend at least an hour each with Bessie every day. That more than anything else assured Rodney that Bessie was happy with the hand she had been dealt in life.

As ever, his other girls continued to grow. Mary weighed in at 2,315 lbs. She fit the definition for BCS 10 perfectly. While she was still energetic for her size, it was apparent that her fat was weighing a bit more heavily on her. She was late for her heat; Rodney had expected it over a week ago. He had prepared another batch of four embryos, again, there were three heifers and one bull. After this pregnancy, he planned one more her before Mary would be left open for the remainder of her days.

Jessica and Rebecca came in at 832, and 876 lbs respectively. Both of them were maturing rapidly. Well on their ways to becoming adults, they were both over four feet tall. Jessica was about two inches taller than Rebecca despite the fact that she out massed her by almost 50 pounds. I don't think my BCS scale is going to work very well for Rebbecca, she has such a different body type. Rodney frowned, she puts hardly anything into her belly, it all goes to her chest and hips. Jessica was proving to be the classical belly gainer. Unlike, Mary, however, she had a brisket that was already filling in and held great potential.

Less than a week after New Year's Eve, Mary finally entered her third estrus. Tenderly and lovingly, Rodney used his tool to deposit four more fertilized eggs deep into her ever expanding belly.

* * *

It was a cool day on March 27, 2033. Mary had just passed her 20th week of pregnancy and was heavy with baby. She was lying on her side, Rodney bent over her wielding an ultrasonic probe and a jar of connective jelly. He rubbed a generous amount of the clear cream onto Mary's skin and pressed the flat end of the probe firmly against the skin, causing a deep depression in it. Rodney was too excited about his first glimpses at the unborn calves to notice. He had waited patiently until the half way point for a more developed look at them, and, of course, so he could tell their genders.

Rodney already liked what he saw in Mary. He belly had expanded severely, but hadn't distended at all. It was very round and sagged only slightly; like a balloon, it had simply grown in size. She had put on about 220 lbs so far, but her chest and brisket remained the same size as before. In fact, Rodney would have said that they had shrunk before he said they were bigger. All of it was obviously in her belly which had actually become much more firm than before her pregnancy.

Rodney checked his small, collapsible screen as he adjusted several knobs on the scope he held. The picture changed from static to a black and white, distorted mess; a layman might have thought it looked something like a plate of spaghetti. It took medical training to see more than vague blobs and squiggles on the screen with this outdated technology (Rodney had actually bought this apparatus legally from an auction of outdated medical devices at a local hospital). With an educated eye, Rodney saw the liver and some intestines through the distorting abdominal wall. Too far up, and not deep enough. Rodney thought silently as he slid the probe along the jelly and pressed in even harder. Mary let out a light Oof! and turned her head around to Rodney, her brows wrinkled in her version of a frown. "I'm sorry, Mary. I'll try to be more careful... but you know you're getting awfully fat for this, I can hardly see anything." Mary snorted at Rodney's comment, but put her head back on her hooves as he let up on the pressure. Rodney smiled though, She is something else.

About half a foot in front of her thigh and slipping down to her underbelly, Rodney hit the sweet spot. Her uterine wall was very clear (to Rodney) and he finally saw the babies. As he swept her uterus with ultrasonic waves, he saw that there were three calves. My goodness, that's almost a litter! Thank God, you're so thin, Mary. Their undeveloped forms had tiny flickering hearts that beat too fast for Rodney to count and they had tiny little hooves. It took about ten minutes and Rodney had to jab the probe into Mary again, but he was able to see that his bull had taken, along with two more heifers. They floated around in Mary like a bizarre fish bowl and Rodney could suppress his smile at the new tiny lives.

The screen died when he flipped off the switch on the scope and Rodney grabbed a large clean towel from his satchel. He took the time to wipe off the jelly. He rubbed the cloth up and down her great belly, added in a bit of massage even few strokes. Mary seemed to enjoy it and let out a quite hum as Rodney worked. The jelly was petroleum based so it clung and even after he was done the fur was slick and tight like it had been styled. I'll just wash off the residue when I give her a bath tomorrow. When he rose, Mary clamored to her feet, rather more heavily and awkwardly than Rodney was used to seeing. Mary assaulted Rodney with licks and her huge blue eyes. Rodney didn't get her hints until she started flicking her tail agitatedly as released a few ounces of urine. "What the... Mary why're you peeing in your st-" it all clicked in Rodney's head, the way she nudged and licked him, her expression, and now this. Rodney put on a sly smile, "That's right, It's been a while since we had some fun hasn't it?" Mary noticed Rodney's change in tone and wagged her tail, already she was turning around to expose her rump to him. "Easy now, girl. Let me put this stuff away first. Then I can grab some K-Y Jelly." Mary glared and mooed angrily at him as Rodney gathered up his equipment.

About fifteen minutes later, Rodney returned, stark naked, and carrying a stool and a bucket. It's surprising that she's craving sex. Not only is she not in estrus, but she's heavily pregnant as well. I should make some notes on her behavior... well, maybe a little later. Mary brought her rear around to Rodney once again, she would not be denied. Rodney put the bucket down under her vulva and pulled out the small tube of K-Y Jelly. He didn't need the stool to get started so he put it aside and put a small amount onto the finger tips of his right hand (which he had just clipped, just in case). Smearing it all over his fingers, Rodney saw that already Mary's own clear lubricant ran down her outer lips.

Rodney started by stroking her tail, and patting her loin; he knew from experience that Mary enjoyed a bit of foreplay and had much more intense orgasms with it than without. As soon as he moved his caresses to her vulva, her lubricant flow doubled, the thin, clear, mucous began to drip into the bucket. This will make clean-up a snap. Thought Rodney, Time to get started.

Lightly using his finger tips, he spread apart the dripping button on her rump with a practiced hand. In an instant, his hand had vanished and Mary took a sharp intake of breath. Years of experience had honed fisting into an art for Rodney. He knew exactly where to press and how fast to go, he could bring her into orgasm within seconds or build it into a blinding tower of pleasure that lasted minutes. He had even experimented with different shapes of the hand with varying degrees of success.

Today, Rodney started out slow. He stroked her thigh as he thrust his arm in about once every one and a half seconds. Her contractions built up and Mary panted in time with them. Rodney's well muscled arm did not tire as the minutes flew by; ever so gradually he built up speed. Mary breathed quicker as Rodney sped up, her sides heaved and she began to drool a bit. Rodney built her slowly into climax, she preferred quality over quantity. The pressure around his arm became enormous. He didn't take it out as far now, that was a rookie mistake that inevitably led to forced ejection. She was crushing his hand, but Rodney stuck through it and kept pushing as Mary entered orgasm. She Whoof!'d with every thrust and threw her vocal cords into her breaths for a magnificent groan of pleasure. Rodney's arm worked like a piston, and Mary could run all night. Five minutes later, Rodney took out his arm as sweat poured down Mary's snout. She sighed as she came down from her high and involuntarily evacuated her bladder. Taking a moment to recover, Rodney patted her fat filled and elevated loin while rubbing Mary's natural lubricant all over his crotch. This one's for me, thought Rodney as he climbed onto the stool behind Mary.

* * *

Later that day, after hosing himself and Mary off and putting on a clean pair of overalls and a new shirt, Rodney was once again out in the field. It was Friday after all, Rodney's day to refill his girl's food supply for the week. I think that my girls might like a nice grain and corn mix this week. Rodney thought as he rooted around in the supply shed. Placing his fingers in his mouth, Rodney gave a long whistle. Three of his girls came immediately to his call. Mary was none the worse for wear despite her activities that morning. Both of the smaller cows had grown several more inches over the last three months and gained many more pounds. One by one he loaded all three of them up with sacks of wheat and corn. When their backs were covered with bags of food, he took a sack of corn himself, and as an afterthought, grabbed a container of soy. Soy was a very high yield food supplement, but was also very high in fat (thus the high yield). Rodney used it as an ingredient in snacks mostly, it's high fat content made it rather unhealthy to consume in large quantities. Seeing as Mary's pregnant though, I think she could utilize the extra nutrients, besides, one sack won't enhance the food that much. I'll just have to watch Jessica and Rebecca's weight a bit more closely for the next 20 weeks.

After refilling the small silo the supplied the automatic feeder, Rodney made sure that his girls were well rewarded for their labor. As they chowed down, he made his escape to check on Bessie.

Unsurprisingly, Bessie was excited as Rodney walked into the barn. Visiting her was usually the first thing he did in the morning, and it was well into midday as he walked up to her and stroked her broad snout. Her gains had suffered as a result of difficulty feeding and uncharacteristic lapses in appetite. Rodney had thought about adding soy to her regular diet, but he had decided that he would have to be really desperate to resort to that. Her heart's one of the few parts of her that's actually healthy. I don't want to go and clog it up. The slowed rate seemed to do her good, her fatty liver seemed to be under control for now and the various intestinal ailments that plagued her were responding to Rodney's cocktail of medications. At 7,588 lbs, she had risen considerably more off the floor despite the loose consistency of her skin. She seemed to have figured out that she can't move herself anymore since she only bothered with flailing her limbs around in moments of excitement, such as this one. Rodney ran his hands down her wide cheeks and onto fat wrinkly skin that widened into her brisket. Rodney actually had his feet well under that sack of blubber to get at her head. Bessie is a marvelous brisket gainer, but I bet Jessica will give her a run for her money when her time comes. Well, better get to work.

Rodney got brush, some cloths, his hoof clippers and a bucket of warm soapy water. He started his chores with Bessie's front. Using both his hands, and to a certain extent, his feet, Rodney stretched the skin on her brisket so that he could wipe it down. It was slow and tedious work, but it was by far, Rodney's favorite part. He loved getting his hands right into the very softest part of her body. He loved pulling and stretching, grouping and molding, folding and bunching. After her brisket was cleaned, he wiped down her face, all the time he talked to her and played simple games with her head and ears. He quickly inspected he eyes and ears and mouth. She has great teeth. I guess it's true what they say 'Use it or lose it.' When he got to her nose, he found a bit of mucus discharge. Immediately, Rodney's brain went into "Doctor Mode" as he liked to call it. Might be an early sign of a cold. I better check her throat and lungs, and get a culture. I should finish up with her hygiene first though.

Rodney's next stop was her chest/shoulder region. With long, quick strokes, he used his hand brush to scrub down her hide. It didn't take long, the fat here was rather firm so he was able to press hard enough to clean effectively. Using a cloth, he got in and around her front legs, the pressure was quite high between her leg and the inside fat, but it was all too important that this area was kept clean even as the fat closed in around the leg in progress to BCS 18. He could tell that Bessie enjoyed the physical contact with her limbs. He would tease her by grabbing her ankle and jerking her leg around until she pulled it from his grasp. Rodney was a bit saddened by how weak her tug was today; it took her three tries to get her leg back from Rodney. Jeez, atrophy sets in fast. She might not be strong enough to fight me in a few more months. I better intensify her exercise or she won't even be able to jiggle her fat how I like it. When Rodney was shaving her front hooves, he noticed some blood on the fat below them. Damn! Her sharp hooves are tearing the fragile skin under them. He wiped up the blood and grabbed some of his medical supplies. He added some antiseptic to prevent infection and put a large bandage over it. Afterwards, he wrapped up all her hooves in cloth to prevent a recurrence. That will have to do until I can make some sort of mittens for her hooves.

After that bit of excitement, Rodney moved Bessie's most massive asset: her flanks. These fat engorged structures were huge; Rodney was 5'11 and was barely able to see over them. He still used a brush to clean these areas, but he needed a long handle to reach her back and effectively clean the upper flanks. This was by far the largest area to clean on Bessie. Her flanks had grown soft, almost as soft as her brisket used to be. Even at her widest point where pressure was usually greatest, it took minimal force to make a deep impression into the flesh. The last area to clean before rotating her onto her side was her hind quarters.

Rodney started by wiping down her vulva and rectum. Bessie mooed at the stimulation, and while Rodney did play around a bit, it was nothing serious. Again he needed to squeeze his hands around behind her compressed legs. The pressure was even greater here, Rodney had trouble just getting his fingers in between her paunch and her thighs. Her hind legs were in rather bad repair. A normal sized cow would have been lame with legs like Bessie's. She didn't really move them except when Rodney encouraged her to. Thankfully they weren't stiff (that would be a sign of advanced atrophy), but they were thin were there was no fat, and the thighs were like globs, no firmness existed there anymore. Rodney brushed and cleaned the rest of her hind quarters just like her flanks and shoulders. Now for the hard part.

Seeing how heavy she had become, Rodney realized that using the tarp to roll her over just wouldn't cut it anymore. Rodney installed a simple pulley system where the rope had split into four. Now, each side contained a pulley so that Bessie's left and right sides could be raised individually. The electronic motors whirred as Bessie's left side was raised. Bessie grunted as her bulk was shifted for he first time in over 36 hours. She flailed her legs a bit as her white belly was exposed. Fourteen small bandages were affixed to various positions on her stomach, down from 23 at Christmas. Rodney made changed the bandages on the sores. They were all of varying degrees, anything from a small rash-like lump to an open bleeding sore were possible results of immobility. The latter were rare as Rodney rotated her often and she had many visits in the pool each week. There were two new sores, both of a mild degree and Rodney made sure to clean them, and add antiseptic before placing bandages on them too. After she had received fresh bandages, Rodney sponged her underbelly; it was far too soft for his thick bristled brush. Her utter had a nice fat consistency, exactly like the flesh that surrounded and flattened it, and was a bright healthy pink. The utter provided an unnecessary entry point for bacteria and possible infection, and Rodney had actually had thoughts of removing it in the past. He had finally decided that Bessie would be less of a Holstein without her characteristic utter, and that it would have been too much effort and risk for the simple preventative benefits. Bessie looked ridiculous on her side, her whole face drooped unevenly. Her head tilted towards the ground since the brisket was far too heavy for her fat neck to lift. When Rodney restored her to her proper position, Bessie thanked him with several long, wet kisses as she drew deeply from her oxygen mask. The whole cleaning process had taken about two hours. As a parting gift, Rodney filled her tray with corn and grain, topped off with about two dozen homemade soy and oat bars. Rodney stroked her head and pinched her rolls of fat as she stuffed her face like she hadn't seen food in a week.

Rodney had grown to like the position of power that being the feeder implies. Domination had never been part of his fantasies before he had owned a cow, and still weren't a major role. But he found, especially standing there as he was, that exercising this level of control over another living being turned him on in another unique way. He gently pushed Bessie's head just a bit into her food tray, and she heartily ingested the feed, hardly stopping to take breaths. Rodney smiled.

* * *

Mary was groaning. She was exhausted and sweat poured down her face like a waterfall. Two of her claves were out, she had delivered the first one standing, but wearily, she had lied down as she passed the second. Rodney waited patiently for the third. Mary's doing great. She's tired, but that's to be expected with triplets. I haven't had to give her oxytocin or use the tongs, she's a natural.

Rodney was a bit saddened by the sight of Mary's rapidly deflating belly, even as it heaved under the weight of contractions. She had put on another 310 lbs during the second half of her pregnancy. Of course, not all of it was pure baby, but Rodney supposed that she would be struggling to stay above her pre-pregnancy weight as she needed to supply three new calves with milk. The two that were out were healthy and big. There was a heifer with a dark chocolate face and a few white stripes. The bull had come out second, he was almost entirely white with only a large black patch on his left shoulder and a small one on his right thigh. Rodney perked up from stroking the heads of the sleeping babes in his lap. Is that the snout?

"Come on, Mary, Push!" once the head was out, it was only a few minutes before the rest of the new heifer was shoved rudely out of her prior residence. After just a few moments, Rodney had her cleaned and dry. As Mary came down out of her contractions, Rodney took all three of her calves to her and she licked and groomed each one in turn. After wards, they all grouped around her utter as Rodney wiped the sweat from Mary's brow. She continually changed glances from him to her small brood, periodically stopping to give Rodney nice wet licks. Rodney left soon after giving Mary a snack to formulate some names for the newly born calves.

That night he decided to name the first born heifer with the thin white strips, Kristy. He named the mostly white bull, Matthew. The last girl had a regular blotchy pattern with a black dot on her right eye; Rodney named her Samantha. Rodney made new files in his digital photo album for each of them and added their birth pictures to them. A single tear dripped down his cheek as he formally christened these new lives into his own.

The next day, Rodney found Mary being assailed by her new triplets. They nursed aggressively, as all new born calves. Their jabbed their snouts deep into her utter to bring forth the milk. Mary moo sounded like a sigh as she tried to maneuver around her suckling children to get to Rodney. "Suck it up, Mary. It's only going to get worse. Besides, were you planning on doing anything with that milk? Because I'm certainly not." Rodney swore he heard her growl at him at he strolled merrily down to Bessie's barn to refill her feeding tray laughing the whole way.

The soy had added to Jessica and Rebecca's frames. Both of them moved farther off of the standard growth chart from soy enriched feed. Rodney smiled devilishly because he knew that while Mary would need the extra weight she had put on for milk, these two wouldn't have the need for their excess stores. Both of them were just about fully grown. Jessica proved to be far superior in height even though Rebecca had over 100 lbs on her. She was very leggy and came up to 4'10 at the shoulders. Rebecca was even shorter than the average height only coming to Rodney's chest at 4'2. While Jessica had just broken 1,600 lbs a month ago, Rebecca has been eating her way through the 1700's since late July.

Rebecca's frame was still an enigma for Rodney. Like a sumo wrestler, her fat didn't sag at all, it was firm with dense muscle and she carried it all on the boniest areas of her body (which as a result weren't very bony anymore). She had a thick neck and reminded him more of bull than a soft heifer. She had the mindset of a bull as well. Not as intelligent as either Mary or Jessica, she liked to throw her weight around and Rodney had learned to be careful with her when she was excited. A few weeks after he had used the ultrasound on Mary, Rodney hoped to stem anymore of these "hulks" from cropping up in future generations by having her spade. Rodney also hoped this would even out her temper a bit.

Even though Jessica had long legs, they were already thickening with muscle as her weight spiraled upwards. Like her grandmother, she was heavy with brisket, even at this early age; it sagged as much as her mother's. Rodney was attracted to this particular asset of hers and she was already used to him fondling it often.

Jennifer was finally starting to show her age. At nearly seven years old, BCS 13 weighed heavily on her and she was rather slow with her movement. She liked to take it easy now, and spent more time lying out in the sun than gobbling up the terrain. As a result, she had dropped down out of the 3,000's. She weighed about 2,850 lbs now. Her flanks had narrowed, but the skin didn't return to its former tautness. She still wasn't wrinkled with cellulite, but the skin very loose despite the smooth appearance.

With the addition of Rebecca to Rodney's list of "non-gainers," he began to wonder who else would wind up on that list. His Big Barn couldn't handle more than one cow at a time, unless he radically changed the crane system. With Mary set up to occupy it next for the rest of her life, it seemed that he would have to limit the growth of his other cows. Well, Mathew definitely won't end up in there; I'm hetero all the way. As much as I would like to see her in there, Jessica will probably be too old for that kind of gaining before Mary... moves out. It's too early to tell with the new babes, I'll have to see how they fill out. Hopefully there'll be no more unpleasant mutations like Rebecca.

Unbidden, a thought strayed into Rodney's mind as he neared the barn's door. Maybe they're the lucky ones, Jennifer gets to live out the full extent of her life in a far more healthy condition than Bessie whose life's been cut years by my hand. Rodney argued with himself, But Bessie gets more attention from me in a day than Jennifer gets in a month. Besides, Bessie likes her fat right where it's at, everywhere and growing; and she never has want for food. I doubt she even remembers what it is to be hungry.

'Whatever you say,' said Rodney's inner critic, 'Whatever you say.'

Frowning, Rodney opened the barn doors. Another twenty weeks and another 420 lbs had finally brought Bessie's weight over four tons at 8,028 pounds. She was hit a bit more heavily with this surge of adipose. Rodney had avoided getting the much more expensive medical grade oxygen and Bessie was more lethargic than ever as a result. As her precious oxygen supply was divided between her brain and the rest of her massive body, she became rather sluggish and slow to react. It had been all Rodney could do to maintain a 21 pound a week gain for her. He hand fed her himself and even then, she had actually fallen asleep several times while he shoveled food into her mouth. Maybe it's time for a feeding tube... I'm so tired of hand feeding her. Despite his reservations, Rodney had also started enriching her food with soy; it was the one reason that Bessie was able to maintain her gain rate. He wasn't sure how much longer he would have her and he wanted to make the most out of her body while she was alive. If it takes five years to develop a heart condition from eating a diet of soy, and her liver or lungs are going to kill her in three, then why not? He started out light with only about 5% soy in her mix, but Rodney planned on stepping it up to 25% eventually, especially if he implemented a feeding tube. Aside from her worsened chronic fatigue, the rest of her body seemed to coming apart on various levels. Her blood Ph was off from decreased liver function, and her lungs seemed to have a fluid collection disorder. They sounded raspy and forced, as if she couldn't empty them naturally (whether that was from fat collection inside her ribs or the immobility of her neck and windpipe, Rodney didn't know). It was very humid this year and Bessie had in excess of 40 bedsores on her belly. Two of them were seriously infected despite Rodney's efforts.

As Rodney went to work on Bessie's daily medical regiment, He thought about the things his inner critic had said. Was she really happy? She's certainly very hungry and likes when I feed her, even if she's sleepy all the time. She gets excited whenever I visit her, but does that mean she's happy or even content? I don't think I can ever know, she just not capable of that kind of empathy, Mary now, she might be able to tell me when she's happy or not... Bessie's just not smart enough. She doesn't understand.

Rodney scooped the loose, pulverized feed out of a bucket and shoveled it into Bessie's mouth. Hardly chewing, she swallowed and looked at Rodney as he went for more, he couldn't keep up with her. Rodney looked at her for a whole minute, studying her expression before making a decision. "Fine, you want it, you got it." Rodney left for the house and returned with two funnels and a long plastic hose. One funnel was very wide, the other was thinner and could fit snugly into the hose. Rodney placed the wide funnel into her mouth and she bit down, expecting food. "Alright, Bessie. Just bite down and don't quit swallowing." He tipped the funnel upwards and began pouring the feed into her mouth slowly. It actually worked for the first few seconds before Bessie spit out the funnel, sending feed allover her face and down her brisket. Bessie had a rather stupid look on her face as she swallowed what she got in her mouth. It almost horrified Rodney to see her look just like a normal cow. It's all in your head, Rodney, The voice of his inner critic echoed from the caverns of his mind, She's not really special at all, aside from that mild leptin deficiency that you artificially worsened.

Shut it! Rodney snapped at himself as he swept up the food and wiped the crumbs off of Bessie. Taking a deep breath to center himself Rodney took an easy tone with Bessie, "Oh what am I going to do with you? Can't move your head enough anymore to free feed; I can't keep hand feeding you, I'm getting behind on work again. I guess there's really only one option left..."

Rodney applied a little lubricant to one end of the plastic tube. "This is just temporary, Bess. It's actually almost as time consuming as hand feeding you, and bad for your throat. Of course... hand feeding isn't nearly a sexy." He traced a line on the left side of the fat that hung from her snout (you couldn't really call it a neck anymore). "There's a good spot to cut into your esophagus. Not too deep... but the tissue isn't very supportive. Ah, here's the spot." Rodney drew his finger just behind her lower jaw, below the ear. "Much more stable here, the tube won't jiggle around and it's still not too deep for surgery. Shall I make us an appointment for Tuesday then? I'd like the weekend to experiment with this little baby." Rodney smiled grimly as he stroked the tube.

"Just relax. It'll be over soon... good thing you can't move your neck or kick me anymore." Rodney stroked her head, pulling inches of fat with his hand every time he moved it. Obediently, Bessie opened her mouth to accept the tube. When it got to the back of her throat though, she coughed and spluttered, trying to spit it out. With speed and precision, Rodney pushed the tube down her throat. The first few inches were rough, but it slid in easily after that. Bessie's eyes darted around and watered as she gasped and pulled air from her oxygen mask like a drowning person. Once he was sure the tube rested inside her stomach, Rodney waited patiently for Bessie to calm down. Once she was back down to her regular quick and raspy breaths, he picked up the tube again. She had closed her mouth around it like a straw and there was only about six inches protruding from the four foot tube. She tried, in vain, to swallow the tube as he lifted it and stuck the funnel into the opening.

Though he hated himself for it later, Rodney let his more sadistic character loose as he lived out one of his darker fantasies. "Tsk, tsk. This food won't do at all. Let's find something a bit heavier. Something you won't need to spit out again as cud." He grinned evilly, "something that'll go straight to your hips... and your gut and your chest and your brisket too." Rodney was grateful for having a tiny kitchen in the barn. It sat on the far side of the pool with his supply closet, it made it so much easier to prepare Bessie's treats as well as making a good feed storage area. Rodney looked like he had a cucumber in his pants the whole time he spent in the mini kitchen. He tore it apart in a hurried rush to concoct the most fattening things he could think of while he was in the mood.

Rodney returned burdened with his supplies. Bessie gave him a wide eyed look, but wagged her tail as she smelt the goodies and knew they were for her. Feebly, she pushed her front legs back and forth as if in an effort to get closer. "Can't wait to get started can you? You're so fat, you're killing yourself and yet you want more... Well, I guess I can't let a helpless blob like yourself go hungry can I? I just happen to have enough food lying here to fill all four of your guts to the brim. Would you like any of it?" Bessie grunted as she continued pawing at her flesh, her fragile skin protected by thick mittens Rodney had sowed for her himself. Rodney teased her with a steaming bowl of human grade oatmeal packed with brown sugar. She forced her tongue out of the way of the tube and out of her mouth. Rodney relented when she started to whine. A pang of regret crept across Rodney's mind, but hormones quickly carried him back into his fantasy.

"Well, since you want it so bad..." He cooed. Lifting the funnel, Rodney poured the oatmeal down the slick tube and into her cavernous insides. "It might not be as stimulating, but it'll fill you out right quick, I guarantee it." Said Rodney while giving a hard slap to the side of her shoulder/neck. "Let's wash that down with some of Mary's milk. I got a couple gallons from her before she gave birth; it's got a 50% higher fat content than normal, I checked." He said with a wink. Half a gallon sped down the tube as if it couldn't wait for its place in the mausoleum of lost entrees that was Bessie's body. "Now for the main course, liquefied soy chock full of sugar and a nice animal weight gain powder I ordered from the internet. All blended together into a nice shake with three more gallons of Mary's milk. Bon appetite!" Rodney cheeks flushed red as he thought about the nutrition facts of the mixture he was currently pouring down Bessie's throat.

Jeez, a guy'd be up five hundred pounds in two years if he drank enough of this. It's practically unholy how much fat there is in this. The milk alone was over 7% fat. Add in soy that's over 40% fat. Then there's the weight gain powder. I love the description on the bottle. '*Warning: Bovine Gain Formula 300 is intended for seriously underweight cows and should not be used as regular feed*. Bovine Gain Formula 300 is a new breakthrough in nutrient absorption. While the powder does contain a supply of fat and vitamins, it is recommended as a supplement to a high fat feeding. Bovine Gain Formula 300 dramatically increases the efficiency in which certain livestock (visit www.bovinegain300.com for details) absorb fat and other nutrients. Restore a healthy weight with Bovine Gain Formula 300!' Cheesy for sure, but it couldn't have higher credentials. It came from the animal department of Gentech; Hell, I'm the one who suggested a weight gain supplement for livestock last stockholders meeting... and I didn't get a dime for the idea.

Rodney wasn't concerned about money though, he had a comfy job, a healthy bank account and was personally reaping the benefits of having his idea become a viable product. There were literally buckets of his "main course" and Rodney poured slowly to let her all stomachs fill up. Bessie was taking deep forced breaths as Rodney got down to his last bucket. Over eight gallons of the stuff had vanished down Bessie's fat clogged gullet. He left the last quart for Bessie to chug herself before pulling out the tube. She grunted and sighed with every breath, she was obviously in pain from the volume of her meal. "Come now, Bess. You didn't even get to taste any of that. Surely you have some room for one last morsel?" Bessie had no will power to resist the sweet scent of the drink. With mild difficulty, she choked down every last drop of the pale, thick fluid.

Rodney patted her thick "neck." He said, "Good job Bessie." As he wiped some of the residue from her fat snout. Realizing too late that he should have done his check up before he fed her like that, Rodney did what he could while she lay there digesting her fatty meal. He took some of her blood, it was all too important to monitor her toxin and sugar levels. She'd be in trouble if either got too high. While Rodney didn't have sex with Bessie that night (mostly for fear of jostling her burgeoning belly too much), his lotion and tissue paper supply dropped noticeably that evening.

That night, Rodney ordered several tanks of 85% pure oxygen and some electronic components he would need for his automatic feeder. As much fun as it was for Rodney, the feeding tube didn't seem to excite Bessie at all. In fact, the third time he tried to use it, she became obviously frightened and guilt stopped Rodney in his tracks. He continued hand feeding her until his parts arrived about three days later at his mailbox near the roadside.

Obviously he wasn't able to keep his Tuesday surgery appointment. It didn't take long, though, to make an automatic feeder after the parts arrived. Basically, it was just a large plastic jug that held about ten gallons and had a large open top for easy refills. Connected to that was a pump that could be affixed to a hose. All Rodney had to do was attach a simple plug timer to control the pump and the feeder was complete. He programmed the timer to switch the pump on eight times a day for five minutes each.

For the third time, Rodney found himself on the edge of making a life altering change for Bessie. This time felt different, however. The sense that he was helping her progress to a new level of beauty had diminished, and the knowledge that he was negatively impacting her health was stronger. His inner critic spoke after days of silence, "You're killing her as surely as putting a bullet in her head if you install that tube. Like you said, 'her only passion left is eating.' How dare you take that last pleasure from her life. You're a monster! She'd have been better off being slaughtered back on Patrick's Farm."

That's it! Rodney screamed in his head, I don't need to hear this crap, especially from myself. What I did was right, for me and for Bessie and all of my other cows who wouldn't exist if I hadn't adopted Bessie. I don't care what you or anyone else says. Bessie has been happy for the vast majority of her life, one that was longer than she could ever have expected back on the farm. Even if she's trapped in her body now, she's more than just a cow, more than just Bessie. She is an ideal, an avatar of beauty in the bovine form. I have created her in that image, and she should be proud to fulfill it, even if it does entail some suffering on her part.

A meek, "You're absolutely insane." from his inner critic gave Rodney confidence as he spliced Bessie's oxygen with a general anesthetic. Dressed in surgeon's attire, Rodney's hand shook only slightly as he drew deep breaths from behind his paper mask. Just one cut... thought Rodney as his scalpel pierced Bessie's fat like a knife through butter.

Less than an hour later, Rodney looked at his handiwork. A flat black plastic node was secured almost invisibly on a black patch of fur. It had a removable lid that opened into absolute darkness when opened. "Wake up, Bessie. I have you on better oxygen now, and the anesthetic wasn't that strong." Said Rodney as she gently tapped her jowls. Groggily, Bessie opened her eyes and groaned. She struggled to move her head to the left where the tube was located. "Well, that's a nice deep moo, Bess. Looks like I didn't damage your vocal cords. The operation was a great success. I'll wager that you'll be gaining faster than ever now, though, I'm afraid you'll never be eating anything through your mouth again." Rodney pulled out his portable screen. "I took the liberty of installing a few sensors while I was digging around in your neck. Now I can pull up your heart and breathing rates anytime I want, as well as few other nifty stats." Bessie gave a full throated moo and Rodney hugged her, careful about the new addition to her body, of course.

Switching to a liquid, high fat diet would have been something Rodney had thought was crazy last year. The fat will clog her arteries and the lack of roughage will cause a displaced abomasum as her "true stomach" fills with gas and shifts upwards from overuse. But with her health moving in the direction it was going, Rodney figured that she had anywhere from six months to less than two years left while those conditions won't become problematic for several years. Rodney had surprisingly moved beyond her death before she had even died. He supposed that staring at the facts on a daily basis didn't hurt. If her body's going to burn out on her, then I'll make sure it glows like a torch on the way out. Besides, what's the point of trying to extend her life like this, she can't even move her head anymore. Rodney's new grim attitude certainly paid off in terms of poundage.

Bessie gained 28 lbs her first week and Rodney held hopes for 40 by the end of the month with some fine tuning and pressing her stomachs to the limits. Six days after New Year's eve of 2033, Bessie hit BCS 18.

Managing a staggering 700 lbs in just over four months, this was, by far, Bessie's biggest explosion in fat. Even her aging skin was tight around the new flesh; stretch marks scarred her skin where it was visible in the white patches and on her utter. She had risen two more feet off the ground and leveled out a bit ( before, she had tilted forward slightly due to the size of her belly compared to her chest fat). Her cheeks blended into the rest of the flesh in the general area. Her brisket actually rose up to her lower lip and went into a six inch horizontal plane before taking a steep dive down to the floor not less than four feet in front of her. Her torso now came all the way up to the hinge of her lower jaw; it spread out at all directions leaving her head and snout the last evidence that there was something other than fat in the soft blobby structure her body had become (and her tail). She rarely opened her mouth now except for the loudest of calls. For soft ones, she simply let her vocal cords reverberate in a muffled way that quivered her entire body like she was shivering. It seemed that there was indeed some pressure from the sheer volume of her brisket that pressed upwards on her jaw. Rodney also suspected that she wanted to avoid getting a mouthful of her own fat lodged inside her mouth. Her cheeks were so puffy that they were indeed beginning to bury her beautiful blue eyes. Her eyes seemed to come from deep recesses in her face as the skin moved forward. Her ears were folding in on themselves as the fat that once laid on her neck moved on top of her head. She actually had fewer rolls behind her head now, but the creases were all over half a foot deep and the bunches of fat were wide and heavy. In relation to the rest of her, her back appeared very short. In fact, there was little more than a crease that appeared between her shoulders expanding backwards and her loin moving forwards. Her loin dominated her hindquarters. They fell fully over her thighs like drapes made from gristle. Like her thighs, her fat also fell onto her anus and vulva as it consumed over half her tail length. As you can guess, this made for very messy evacuations.

She was over 19 feet wide at her widest point, which happened to be about eight inches off of the floor. She was almost entirely round now when viewed from above. Still she was a bit longer from snout to tail than across her flanks, but Rodney liked it like that. It was the sagging imperfect nature of fat that attracted him. Spheres repulsed him; he abhorred inflation artwork. Aside from her brisket, Rodney's new favorite parts of Bessie to play with were the remnants of her limbs. Deep creases that actually appeared on the hind sides of her flanks appeared out from under her loin equidistant from the tail between them. The creases themselves were not symmetrical, they tailed away and smoothed out as they got closer to the floor. Likewise, on her front, there were also creases on the borderlines between her brisket and the rest of her torso. They weren't nearly as prominent, having almost disappeared under the fat from her shoulders long before. Only six inch folds marked where they were buried.

Rodney loved shoving his hand up into these new crevasses to grab her legs. She couldn't do much with them anymore; they were basically paralyzed by the surrounding fat and by the weakness that had grown in the muscles. Still Rodney liked to let her feel that he was there while making expeditions around her vast body. Of course, Rodney, like any man, experimented with the new folds that had appeared on her body. The fact that he didn't need a stool to "reach" the creases where her hind legs were entombed proved to be an excellent addition in Rodney's opinion.

Bessie's newfound additions weren't without steep costs, however. Bessie was more of a burden on Rodney now than ever before. She had developed regular hypertension (high blood pressure) from the rapid accumulation of fat. Her heart rate had increased drastically. Last year, she had had an almost normal resting heart rate; now her heart beat like she was jogging even when she was sound asleep. Worse even than these precursors to heart disease were the new developments in her blood work. Even though Rodney had removed the sugar from her liquid diet, her blood sugar had reached dangerous levels. It irked Rodney that the only recourses that were effective against high blood sugar were a change in diet, exercise and weight loss, all of which were contrary to what he was trying to accomplish. Rodney put in several orders for insulin in preparation for her slip into diabetes. However, Rodney was sure that her liver was going to kill Bessie. Like her blood sugar, it was difficult to treat fatty liver without reversing everything he had been working towards. He squeezed every drop of functionality out of her fat engorged liver with 12 different kinds of medication. He knew though, that if Bessie had been a human patient in a hospital, her only real hope for life at this point would have been a liver transplant (even if she managed to somehow lose the extra weight). Even on one of the highest grades of oxygen, Bessie's breaths were slow, raspy and forced. She fought for every intake of breath from under four tons of fat. Her lungs had become terrible at ridding themselves of fluid and Bessie seemed unable to cough up the excess gunk. At least once a week, Rodney tilted her forward, almost vertically, in an effort to rid her of the mucous that threatened to drown her in her own lungs.

It was really hard to tell much about Bessie's mental state. She was so incapacitated that visible responses were hard to come by. She stilled mooed and waged her tail as much as she could when Rodney visited her. She responded just as well to sexual stimulation as ever, though orgasm tended to leave her winded and gasping for air for several minutes afterwards. She didn't, or wasn't capable of wiggling her limbs anymore, even when Rodney interacted with her. He supposed that they were stiff with atrophy inside their fattened graves. She spent upwards of 18 hours a day asleep and Rodney was glad. Sitting there unable to move or even distract yourself with food would have been mental anguish. Though Rodney wondered how much she did indeed suffer everyday from lack of stimulation. Rebecca had stopped visiting Bessie and Jessica came only infrequently. Only Mary was truly persistent and devoted to ensuring that Bessie at least got to see another of her kind at least once a day.

Rodney still wondered about what went on in Bessie's head. She used to be so clear, so easy to read. Now... I can't even tell if she's happy or not. I can't tell if she's tired of sitting in that barn unable to move a muscle. I can't tell if the pump that continually fattens her is driving her insane. I can't tell if she yearns to prance out on the pasture again, or even if she desires one last mouthful of grass. Rodney sighed. At any rate, I think I was being generous with two years. She's going downhill much faster than I would have liked... but not nearly as fast as any medical textbook would've said. Hell, any vet out there would have said it was impossible to get a cow so obese, and even if they saw Bessie, they wouldn't give her more than a few weeks at the most. She still has some fight in her though, I just wonder when that's not going to matter anymore.

Bessie's twelfth birthday came and went that March. Her weight continued to soar and while she was a burden on Rodney, he took joy in the fact that the other members of his farm were happily growing up and out. Both Jessica and Rebecca were fully mature adult cows now and the three newest members of Rodney's family were developing well.

As Mary was drained of her, in comparison to a normal Holstein, meager milk supplies, she actively lost weight all through the time she was lactating. The three calves grew right on the chart, just as Jessica had done before them. Even this early in their tender young lives, they had integrated into barnyard life and they interacted in even more complex ways than Jessica and Rebecca had in their youth. It was only natural that as the number of "smart cows" rose, the amount of things they could do together increases also. Already a clear hierarchy had formed with Mary squarely on top. Despite her usually gentle demeanor, she didn't hesitate to hand out tough love on misbehaving cows. They learned quickly, and Rodney found that he hardly had to teach the young ones anything besides his commands, Mary could handle teaching basic "barnyard conduct" herself. Rodney also found that the cows grew attached to him quickly as he was the only one who gave out positive reinforcement (AKA snacks).

Rebecca came next after Mary, then Jessica and then the little ones who fought among themselves for dominance everyday. Jennifer was mainly out of the loop, she didn't keep to herself so much as not understand the complexities of a higher social group. Kristy seemed to have taken hold of the pack for the most part, but she was challenged daily for her top position of the threesome by Matthew. Despite his being the first male to live on the farm in half a decade, he was rather passive. His personality was submissive in nature, Rodney suspected that only the glands between his legs kept him butting heads with Kristy. When Kristy and Matthew were feuding, or even just playing roughly, it was Samantha that came to the rescue. More often than not, she filled out the "peacemaker" position of the trio. Like Matthew, Samantha was docile. She also wasn't nearly as energetic as the other two, almost to the point of laziness. However, all three of them loved running around the field when they weren't under the protective shadow of Mary. Rebecca loved playing with the young ones; she often initiated chases, wrestling and other physical activities. Jessica played with them too, but she wasn't quite the rough and tumble girl that Rebecca was. She preferred a relaxing day out on the pasture chowing her heart out on lush pasture.

* * *

It was wet, it was cold and it was windy; one of the worst winters Rodney had ever experienced. It was early November but the blizzard blanketed the farm in feet of snow and made it look more like January. Rodney sat at a workbench in his underground laboratory. He was weeping into his sleeve.

It's hopeless. She's going to be dead by the end of the week and there's nothing I can do. Damn this snow! Damn this cold! Rodney sobbed. All this time, all of the care I put into her heart and lungs and liver, and she's going to die of a fucking cold!

Over a week ago, Rodney noticed that she had picked up a case of sniffles. She had a runny nose for a while, but that progressed into a fever, but never the whole time did she cough; that's ultimately what killed her. Now she has pneumonia. She's fucking drowning in her own damn fluids that she can't cough up. Something about the fat around her windpipe, or inside her chest is preventing her from coughing. Or even... God help me, the feeding tube I installed.

There was simply nothing that Rodney could do. The infection wasn't responding to antibiotics, or if it was, it wouldn't matter because it was the excess fluids that were killing her, not the infection itself. Even tilting her forward the full maximum her lift would allow didn't seem the help, the infection was just too deep. As Rodney sat there he felt humiliated. Of all the things I was looking for. All the steps I took to prevent various disorders...she succumbs to a simple cold. I should have never left her barn open that day it snowed...

Rodney wallowed in his self blame and grief for almost half an hour. At last he realized, Well, I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. She's made it over a year, That's about as good as I could've expected. He smiled a bit as he thought, She really managed to pack it away this year, over a ton. Jesus, she is one fine beast. Rodney wondered, Should I draw this out? She can hardly breath, it sounds like trying the suck up the last few drops of a milkshake every time she inhales. Perhaps it'd be better for her to go sooner, without as much pain... He nodded his head with sadness. Well I have some preparations to make first.

Rodney went out and bought a large backhoe outright. He didn't want to keep fabricating covers for his activities. Sooner or later someone would catch on if he rented power equipment every time one of his animals died. The bulldozer section of the backhoe could be outfitted with a pair of prongs to carry a pallet so this model was extremely attractive to Rodney. It was a bit difficult to let the truck driver leave the back hoe out on the road in front of Rodney's property, but a little bribe goes a long way. While the device had cost him almost half of his savings, Rodney no longer had to worry about disposing of the multiple tons of flesh he was generating on his farm.

It was Friday when Rodney decided to make the last few hours of Bessie's life the best he could before he put her down. The screen in his pocket showed her heart beating more than twice a second as well as dangerously low oxygen levels. She was asleep at the moment, even so she slept uneasily, her slumber was plagued by fits of gasping and a generally unpleasant wheezing and gurgling sound. She also had a high fever and a nose than ran like a faucet.

Rodney stroked her thin hair; it was smooth and soft no matter how thinly it was forced to spread over her body. Rodney used the crane to lift her over the scale. The movement awakened her and she mooed weakly. Even at her weight the motors whirred quietly and as her flesh was draped onto the ground the scale read: 10,104. "You really did it Bess, ol' girl. You broke five digits before the end." Bessie remained silent, wheezing into her mask and looking rather like the exertion of remaining conscious was draining her energy reserves.

On the floor once again, her brisket almost covered her mouth; without a feeding hose, she would be hard pressed to consume any food without gnawing on her own fat. The soft pink skin stretched almost a foot away from her mouth before dropping to the floor not less than five feet in front of her. While she wasn't blind, the fat on her face reduced her eyes to mere slits that made her eyes, on the rare occasions when she opened them, seem distant. Her ears had been reduced to tufts of hair that protruded out of a fold in her flesh. Her back rose nearly one and a half feet over her head and was brimming with cellulite and thick rolls. The trench that ran perpendicular to her back between her shoulders and lion was over three feet deep; Rodney had examined that fact for himself by squeezing his body into that fold. It was the closest he had ever gotten to feeling absorbed into her fat. At over twenty-two feet wide she had achieved a 4.78 width to height ratio, a high mark for future "Big Barn" residents.

Rodney was mesmerized by her flesh. He knew full well that this would be his last chance to enjoy it. All night long his pleasured his immobile love goddess. When one arm fell asleep, he used the other. Sweat poured down his face as thrust into her, hard as rock, as she climaxed every time. Even when desire faded, and every passing moment was exhausting, Rodney pushed on, wanting to make this night one she wouldn't forget...Perhaps into the hereafter as well. Despite the volume of the room, the high windows were fogged as the result of their activities. In spite of the oppressive heat, Rodney lay panting on Bessie's soft, fat engorged back. He was too tired to move. Bessie's back was drenched in Rodney's sweat and patches of her coat were sticky with his seed. Rodney sighed as his dopamine levels returned to normal. This'll be that last time I can get sex like this until Mary fills out. The last time I can use my lover as a mattress as well. His tears were released from their prisons of typical male emotional emptiness. In them, beyond all reason, Rodney felt a measure of happiness as well. It's finally done. I don't need to worry about her health anymore, I don't have to worry about her quality of life, she'll be at peace here shortly. "It's almost over Bessie, I think I sent you off with style." He stroked her back as he said this aloud and Bessie managed a weak mucous strangled moo.

Rodney cleaned her up, every inch of her. She whined a bit a he rotated her though, her underbelly was dotted with countless bedsores. Her immune system had weakened from fatty liver and poor blood flow. She had a hard time fighting infection and the wounds healed slowly even when they were sterilized. Rodney spent excessive time stroking her thin fur, especially around her head. Every moment he cooed at her and let her know he was there.

Finally, Rodney stood silent and solemnly in front of Bessie, a syringe filled with a nasty green fluid in hand. I've been here many times over the last decade we've been together. Each time was a milestone for her, a marker of a new period in her life, all of them a result of my manipulations of the flesh. Fate must have a sense of irony as they say for with every intervention on my part, I thought I was making improvements, but all along it was simply leading to this. Would... Does God shun me for my crimes? Could anyone possibly understand how this could be a positive in both my life and hers. I would, and will, do it all again, it's ingrained into me whether what I do is wrong or not.

When I look at Bessie, all I can see is a gorgeous, sexually arousing specimen of perfection achieved in the bovine form. But when I look at her wounds, her afflictions, the way she suffers, I see something ugly. I wonder, is that how she truly looks; in those fleeting glimpses am I looking beyond my Rose Tinted Glasses? Beyond my neurosis, is she really hideous? Rodney shook his head in an effort to reaffirm himself. No, I know what I have done is good. Look at those cows out there, snug and warm in the barn. They are healthy and whole, as smart as any animal below a human could hope to be. Bessie's babies, my babies, surely that cannot be wrong.

Bessie's wheezing suddenly turned to tortured gargling. The feeble flailing of her legs from deep within her was apparent as waves on the surface on her skin as she opened and closed her mouth, teeth gnashing on her tender flesh as she fought and gasped for air. As she struggled every moment for her life, Rodney's resolution became firm. This is for the best. You don't need to suffer anymore for my sexual deviancy.

Bessie heaved for breath that would not come and Rodney stepped forward and thrust his arm into her brisket, feeling for her neck. He didn't need to look at his monitor to tell that her heart was racing dangerously fast. Her pulse beat strongly under his finger tips, one that Rodney was about to stop cold for good. He took a deep breath and stared into Bessie's distant slitted eyes as he drove his needle into a vein more than two feet into her brisket. When he had completed the act, Rodney knew he had only a few minutes left with her. Already she slowed her breath as Rodney reached to her jowls and cupped both of them in his hands. He French kissed her long and hard, not even the blood from her bleeding brisket could deter him. When he felt the last pump of her overworked heart fade for a permanent retirement, Rodney pried open her eyes from the banks of fat that smothered them. To Rodney they appeared clearer than he had ever seen them, they shone brilliantly like sapphires before they faded with her last quiet breaths. Rodney collapsed as the pain in his heart drove him down onto her brisket. He didn't know how long he laid there weeping into her cooling flesh, but it was light out before he got up.

Bessie's corpse had to sit in the barn for over a day as he dug a massive 15 foot deep trench for her body. He didn't cover her corpse when he carried it over to its final resting place. Both Mary and Jessica shed tears after examining the body, like Mary's first time with death, Jessica hid herself away, though her mournful cries were still audible. Although, far from silent, Mary stuck around as Rodney dropped in the corpse. Bessie proved to be so massive that there was an actual hill formed when Rodney replaced the soil. He placed a simple marker up at the climax that read:

Bessie

March, 2022-November10, 2034

First and always in my heart;

Mother to us all.

Soon after his New Year's celebration, Rodney found himself cleaning the cobwebs out of the Big Barn. It was still strange for him to see it empty. The green concrete was dusty, a few snowflakes littered the floor since he had turned off the heat. The pool was covered by a thick tarp and the whole place seemed to lack the life that it had had when Bessie occupied it. It feels like a tomb, even if Bessie is out back near the forest. It didn't take long to clear the corners of the room and sweep up a bit.

The snow was still thick on the ground, but the hardest blizzards had past. It was actually rather warm today and the sky was clear. Rodney's cows were out today under the clear sky. They dug through the snow to get at scraps of grass. They each had hay in their stalls, but they enjoyed the activity. Far too many times this winter they had been cooped up in their barn. The young calves had grown into fine young adults.

Even though the females weren't due for their first estrus for several more months, Matthew proved to be a rather randy young bull. He had already tried to mount Jessica when she entered heat, and Rodney was forced to put him in the pen to prevent an unplanned pregnancy. Now it wasn't immediately unhealthy to inbreed, Rodney just had to be careful to check for the build-up of recessive traits. Rodney still had no idea how he would fill out after he finished growing. He wasn't heavy in any particular area. He had a square figure, but it was evenly distributed. Over time, he submitted to the beta "female" position under Kristy.

Though Kristy was head honcho of the new trio, she still took orders from Mary, Jessica and Rebecca. Perhaps due to her "middle management" position, she was the heaviest of the three. For her frame she had a good BCS 9. She was a regular "muchaholic" and took a full adult sized portion for her meals. She kept most of her bulk around her belly, but she had generous portions for her neck and brisket as well.

Samantha took to her lowly position well. She was gentle like her mother and seemed to enjoy a good deal of relaxation (or laziness) in her life. Unlike Mary and Kristy, Samantha had a small frame. She was three foot five at the shoulder, four inches lower than the standard for her age.

Mary had crept into BCS 12 during the last year of Bessie's life. She was about a month pregnant having come into her heat a bit earlier last year. She had worked hard all last year to refill the 75 or so pounds that she lost while nursing the young ones. She did so with gusto and managed to put on more than 200 lbs after she had regained her lost adipose supplies. Her total weight now was 2,738 lbs and she wore it well. It was hard to see since it was early and because of her ample fat stores, but she appeared to have only one calf this year. Rodney had given her a full three embryos, but you can never tell how many will take. He was glad that she only had one though, she was getting awfully heavy to have the strain of birthing placed in her.

Mary's belly filled the gap between her legs; her utter was absorbed into her belly and hung below the hock. As she walked across the snow blanketed lawn, her rump waddled back and forth and her flanks rocked right and left. Rodney smiled when she snorted while releasing a deep breath after a bit of a jog that she could have kept up for over a half hour without even breathing heavy a year ago. Her brisket expanded little even with her extra pounds. It was only about two inches wider than the gap between her front legs so it didn't hinder her there at all. Her loin had risen into a thick healthy shelf on her thighs. It hasn't started to spill over onto her thighs, but it was only a matter of time.

Jennifer remained, tenaciously, the fattest cow on the farm. The late 2,800's seemed to be endgame for her. She wore it comfortably and it fit her rather inactive lifestyle. She was also the oldest cow on the farm now. At over eight years old, she surprisingly showed little signs of age. Rodney looked forward to using Jennifer as a model for diseases he should look for as his "moderately obese" cow population aged.

Jessica and Rebecca seemed to have gone their separate ways, they just had too different personalities to do much together. It also seemed that Jessica realized that when Rebecca got rough, she could simply walk away. Jessica had finally stopped trying to escape from the farm. She spent most of her time lounging with Mary and Jennifer. Jessica's brisket was larger than Mary's despite being several hundred pounds lighter. Her belly also gained well, forming a premature paunch even though her ribs were still barely palpable.

Rebecca's body type hadn't changed at all. Her belly had grown, but more as a result of her expanding chest than actual fat deposits there. Her thighs were thick and rubbed against each other rather than her belly. If I didn't know better, I'd have said they gave me a stallion's seed instead of a bull's. Thought Rodney as he watched her grow. She hung around the newborns a lot and was the only adult on the farm active enough to keep up with their games. Even though she was rough around her peers, she seemed to know to be slightly more gentle with the young ones.

While Rodney still found that he longed for Bessie, even after all these weeks, he took solace in his living cows and how they happily lived out their lives under his care. The whole farm did seem to have some of the life sucked out of it with the passing of Bessie, however. Her death had affected Jessica the most. Like when Mary discovered Mollie dead, Jessica seemed less playful afterwards, less inclined to run about for no reason. Mary too was more stoic. She hadn't pressured Rodney for sex for sex since Bessie departed; Rodney had to initiate relations himself and sometimes she refused him.

Despite the general unhappiness that hung over the farm like a persistent gloom, everyone was out in the field today enjoying themselves on a rare clear day. Kristy, Samantha and Mathew were in and out of the heated barn; they ran out to play and then back in when they got too cold. The others lounged about in the snow; their thick layers of blubber protected them from its hardships. Mary was never too far away, however. Always she kept a close eye on her young ones and a firm hoof when they played too roughly or started destroying something.

Since Bessie's passing, Rodney found that he had a lot more free time. While he hadn't hit a glass ceiling in terms of employment opportunities, he liked where he was at. Lower management gave him obscurity if not as much pay as higher levels. Also, he had grown to like the work he did in his basement that was related to his "family." Most projects in the company didn't interest him enough to really try his hardest. Besides, he was way ahead of the company in his own personal research.

Rodney had all of Bessie's statistics from her last year of life stored in a computer. Ever since he installed her feeding tube, her heart, respiration and various blood chemical levels had been constantly recorded. Also there were his countless files of detailed notes dating all the way back to when he had first bought her. Rodney plowed through this mountain of data in an effort to find a way to ensure the health of his cows even past immobility and beyond. This was an area that Rodney truly had a passion for. He was motivated not only on an intellectual level, but also by his libido; to see Mary bigger than Bessie had been was his fondest wish.

He had already made a great deal of progress in the two months since Bessie's passing. He had poured his grief into the project, which he code named, "Project Omega," as a joke. He called it that because it dealt with the last portion of the cow's life, worked to squeeze every week out of it and every pound possible in. Already, he knew now that having even minor conditions like fatty liver at a weight like Bessie's over time weakened the immune system, a factor that he hadn't taken into account while she had lived. She might as well have had AIDS. She couldn't even fight off a cold and her bedsores refused to heal.

The key to longevity, he realized came from anticipating the problems before they arose and preventing them. He took solace in the fact that it was near impossible for him to do that for Bessie while she was alive. Now that he had a model from Bessie, however, Rodney felt that he could anticipate many more problems ahead of time. If you can't treat your patient when they become ill, make sure they don't become ill in the first place. Already Rodney had been giving Mary milk thistle among some other vitamins to help prevent fatty liver before it started. Certain problems still eluded him though, like Bessie's inability to cough among her other respiratory problems. Well, I have time, years to figure it out before Mary makes her debut in the Big Barn.

* * *

About seven months later, Rodney was in the barn delivering Mary's last child as well as the last addition to the farm for the foreseeable future. Her belly heaved and quaked as Rodney sat on his trusty old stool looking at his monitor. Mary currently held the title of "Heaviest Cow" on the farm with nearly one and a half tons of girth. He wasn't worried, though, Mary was lighter and far more fit than Bessie had been at her last birth. Younger too. A voice in his head chimed in. Rodney found himself talking to himself more often since Bessie's death. His Inner Critic seemed to have evaporated, but random voices chirped in at various points in the day, and sometimes Rodney talked back to them if he felt the need for conversation or if they had said something interesting. Mostly they just seemed to comment on the obvious. I'm not worried about it. I mean lots of people who live by themselves talk to themselves... probably. It's a means to cope with isolation, it doesn't mean I'm crazy. Now if I started blacking out or seeing things, then I'd probably have to find some help. Thought Rodney as he fiddled with the device in his hands.

Technology is marvelous. A stray voice said as Rodney corrected a dip in Mary's oxytocin levels by simply pressing a button on the display. This is nothing. You should see the great stuff they have at the hospital. They can put you back together even if you come in cut into five pieces. This junk is just now filtering its way down as it becomes obsolete. Hell, I've just been able to get stuff from this century about five years ago.

Rodney's mind quieted as Mary's contractions quickened to a new level. Just a few more minutes... thought Rodney. Finally, the embryonic sac was shoved out of Mary's rear end, followed quickly by the heifer's head. It took less than half an hour before the new calf crashed to the ground. Rodney didn't play "catcher" because the shock of the fall help to start their breathing. He smiled as the distressed calf bawled from being rudely shifted into a new world. As Rodney sponged her off, a new name for her came immediately to mind. "Hollie, I'll call you Hollie." He said as he sent her to suckle off of Mary's full and heavy utter. "You know, I've always wanted a cow named Hollie. For the life of me I can't think of why the name didn't come to me before."

Because the time wasn't right. Rodney said to himself as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

* * *

By late August, Rodney had become comfortable with the status of his farm. His seven cows and one bull were not cramped in the slightest on his many acres. For the past few months, Rodney had finally been free of the pain of Bessie's death. No longer did it assault him even occasionally. He was able to reflect on the period with joy and remembrance for his dear Bessie. It's true, time does heal all wounds. No matter how false that might seem at the time. Rodney was also living light and easy. Free of schemes for the future, worries about health, he was living in the moment. Rodney was happy with eight bovines, and didn't have any plans for more babies yet. Mathew was always there and eager after all. It's stable right now. I think I'll let Hollie grow into an adult before having anymore kids. Heh, maybe I'll need something to spice things up a bit by then.

His lawn had been especially green and fertile after the bad winter and remained so even with the threat of autumn around the corner. Despite Mary's usurp of the "Heaviest Cow" title during her late pregnancy, Jennifer had reclaimed it when Mary dropped little 122 lb Hollie. Mary has been declining with weight even more since then; the metabolic requirements of lactating is like jogging several miles a day. While it was still too early to tell much about Hollie, it was clear that she had inherited a gentle spirit from her mother. She enjoyed cuddling with Rodney and looked to him without an ounce of fear.

Mary had dropped to 2,874 lbs this month and was actively losing about one or two pounds every week. Even though her utter was very small for a Holstein cow on a dairy farm, it was the largest among all of the other cows on the farm. Though blending into her belly, her utter widened a bit and was more spherical in shape. Its loose consistency betrayed the milk inside it and Hollie enjoyed complete access to all four perfectly placed nipples.

Jessica had long ago surpassed her stocky sister, Rebecca, in weight. While Rebecca simply looked very stocky, Jessica was fat with a capital "F." She was a fully mature cow now and despite her 5'2 standing, sat comfortably in BCS 11. At, 2,451 lbs, her large gut hung below her hock and she swayed with the familiar rhythm of the heavily obese. Jessica's most striking feature, by far, was her brisket. Rodney had thought that Bessie was rather "large chested" until he saw how Jessica was filling out. It stuck out farther than her chin and was soft and felt like it was stuffed with jell-o. Her young skin kept cellulite and wrinkles to a minimum as the flesh spread out in front of her font legs. While Mary's brisket was still rather peach shaped, Jessica's was built like a sack of mashed potatoes. It was already encroaching on the underside of her neck. It didn't seem to be hindering her at the pasture yet, but Rodney made sure to monitor how much she was taking from the food trough. The enlarging brisket is a self feeding cycle. As it gets bigger, the cow can't feed as well on grass and eats more high yield food; thus leading to more weight gain and a fatter brisket.

Rebecca had no such worries. She was the lightest of the adults, weighing in at a "meager" 2,138 pounds. Her weight gain was down to under four pounds a week, less than half that of her sister's. She tended to be prone to skin rashes between her thighs as her belly dropped down and increased the rubbing there. Ideally, the legs should flow with the fat as to not rub against the skin, but Rebecca's flesh was too firm, too muscular for that. She would've been excellent at pulling a cart somewhere; she's just like an ox. Her neck was thick with both fat and muscle and she had developed the widest shoulder width on the farm. Her deep chest fell below her front knees and the skin there was the softest to be found on her whole body as the fat drooped slightly. Her brisket, like her utter was small and tight. Everything about her seemed built for power.

While not as bright as Mary, Jessica or the triplets, she was much more capable than your standard ox. She didn't need to be led, usually, and she could carry the heaviest loads. She proved to be an enormous asset when Rodney was making repairs on his house in spring after the long, harsh winter.

Of Mary's second batch of children, Kristy had soared ahead of the class in weight. She was now less than 400 lbs away from hitting one ton despite her second birthday still lying several weeks away. Like all of his cows, she carried her weight well, but she tended to be the first one winded from their various games. She didn't come close to Mollie in terms of adolescent poundage, but Rodney made sure that she got the last pickings of the feeding tray to help curb the gains as a result of dominance. Rodney didn't use the BCS system on immature cows, but he thought that for her height, she came close to Jessica in fatness.

While not as greedy as Kristy, Matthew had his share of excess as well. He was an interesting case for Rodney since he was the first male member of his new breed. He kept most of his weight around his belly and chest. Since he had no utter, he still had a bit of an abdominal tuck even though his waist had disappeared in childhood. His horns curved downward and were small, short and kept close to the head. Rodney didn't need the staggering figures of injuries caused by kept bulls to know to take a firm hand with Mathew from an early age. While usually passive and calm with his girls, Rodney puffed his stance when Mathew was around so that he knew who the boss was on the farm. It seemed that a "healthy" appetite crossed genders since Mathew ate heartily at the food trough. He was more active than most, however, and spent time burning calories in the field with Rebecca. Rodney hoped his weight would even out soon though, or he might not be able to perform his duties whenever Rodney decided to have calves again. After all, he doesn't have a lactation cycle to increase weight loss. What he gains is permanent. Though Rodney.

Last, but not least was little Samantha. She was the shortest cow, aside from Hollie, on the farm and the smallest of stature. Rodney believed that she would retain this position even into adulthood for at 22 months old she was only slightly over four feet tall. Weighing in at 1,295 she was also the lightest of the trio. She was right on track, weight wise, according to the American Farmer's Union. Of course, considering that she was smaller than most, "right on track" was heavy for her. Aside from Hollie, she had the only visible ribs on the farm. The last couple rows on her aft-ribs made shallow hills on her figure. Her spine, hook, and pin bones were also visible with a prominent, but not emaciated tail bone. Her utter hung below her belly and came to her hock. She would have made an excellent show cow if Rodney wasn't desperate to maintain absolute secrecy.

Rodney was careful to monitor both Samantha and Kristy's temperatures almost everyday. They were almost due to begin menstruating and Rodney had to make sure that they were separated from Mathew at that time. Hollie, less than two months old was a rambunctious little squirt. She ran and played with the big girls and loved to go running. She was still a baby though and clung to Mary like molasses. Rodney could still lift her off the ground since she hadn't yet reached her second hundred pounds. He made sure to enjoy this time when she was young and small and cute before maturing.

For the first time ever, Rodney welcomed a calf into his home. He knew it was unwise as she wouldn't always be welcome, but Rodney couldn't resist her cute face and lovable personality. She's like a cute little stuffed cow. thought Rodney as he sat on his couch watching TV, Hollie's head resting on his lap. He scratched her ear absently and Hollie arched her neck into Rodney's hand.

He switched mindlessly through the channels, hoping to see something that caught his attention. He was more interested in simply relaxing with the warm calf on his lap that anything on the screen, though. After "That 90's Show" was over, the news came on the screen. Rodney was drifting to sleep and hardly heard what the anchorwoman was talking about. "... accident near Interstate 64 blocking traffic... A woman was taken shortly to the hospital after... home from Cumberland City... drunk driver slammed into her and..." Rodney was fading fast into sleep. Hollie was like a warm heating pad, she was already asleep herself. His last semi-coherent thought before unconsciousness took him was, I wonder if Mom still takes Interstate 64 home from work...

Rodney was woken when it was still dark. Hollie lay soundly on his lap and he was just beginning to wonder what had woken him when the loud beeps of the phone rang out again. Straining to reach from the sofa without disturbing Hollie, Rodney grabbed the phone and groggily said, "Hello?"

"Mr. Johnson, I have some bad news. There's been an accident."

Not fifteen minutes later, Rodney found himself speeding down the highway towards Cumberland to meet a woman he hadn't spoken to in over 13 years. Rodney had just assumed that she would just keep on living and hardly once since he bought his farm did he ever think of her. Despite having left on unpleasant terms, the thought of his last close relative lying wounded, possibly mortally, in a hospital sent waves of fear down his spine.

It took about three hours for Rodney to reach the hospital. He tried to calm himself as he strode quickly to the front door and spoke to the receptionist. "I need to see Elizabeth Johnson. They said she was taken here, I'm her son."

"Can I get your name and ID, sir?"

Rodney sighed, he hated dealing with bureaucracy, however minor. He pulled out his driver's license and said, "I'm Rodney Johnson." The woman at the desk took his license and studied it for a few moments. "You need to renew your license, sir, but it's alright for now. Ms. Johnson is still in surgery. They should be done soon. if you'll just take a seat, I'll call you when you can see her."

I nodded and sat down in the lobby. I breathed the stale hospital scented air and looked at several outdated magazines. Some things never change. I thought. I was sick with worry and fear, even the thoughts of my ladies at home couldn't console me. It seemed sick to think of them when I was here waiting to see if my mother would live or die. Time passed with agonizing slowness and there was nothing that I could pass the time with. The television just sounded like noise and the words on all of the paper were like simple black scratches.

An eternity later, the receptionist called out, "Mr. Johnson?" I got up from my stupor to see that only forty-five minutes had passed. I thanked God that my drive had taken so long. A man was standing in front of the door leading to the rest of the hospital. He was clearly tired and I wondered if he had just gotten out of surgery. "Dr. Monroe will take you to your mother." The receptionist said.

"Follow me, please." Said Dr. Monroe. As we walked along the hallways of the hospital, he said. "She came right out of surgery and is sleeping now. You'll only be able to stay for a few minutes."

I asked, "How bad was the accident? Will she make a recovery?"

To my relief, the doctor smiled, "Yes, yes. She broke both of her legs and ruptured her spleen, but the ambulance got her here in minutes. The operation went smoothly and I expect a full recovery. It will take some time for her legs to mend though, she is 59, but very healthy." I sighed with relief.

When we got to her room, Dr. Monroe reminded me, "Remember, just a few minutes. She's still knocked out on anesthetic anyways. She'll be more active tomorrow. Oh, and don't worry about the lacerations on her face, they won't leave scars."

A knot twisted in Rodney's stomach as the doctor said those words, but he opened the door anyways. The heart monitor beeped quietly in the dimly lit room. It reminded me disturbingly of Bessie. I walked to her bed and sat down on its edge. I held her hand, slightly wrinkled, but still strong, and looked at her face.

Her strong features were bruised and puffy from the accident. Her sharp nose was bandaged and I assumed that they had to reset it. There were many small cuts on her face, I could see the faint shimmer of liquid bandage on all of them. Her thick dark hair was streaked with grey and seemed to be totally unharmed (and only a little unstyled) for her experiences. She appeared relaxed and graceful in her sleep. Totally different from the bleak, serious, stubborn woman that I remembered. I begin to wonder if she had changed in the years, softened. I also begin to regret never having tried to reach her before now. These thoughts and more swirl around my head until Dr. Monroe comes and places a hand on my shoulder. "Time to go, you'll have more time with her tomorrow. Try to come in the afternoon, she'll be sleeping off the anesthetic for a while still." I nod and let myself be led outside. That night, I find a hotel and sleep there.

I worry about my cows back home as I lay on the hard, unfamiliar mattress of my room. This will the first time since I spent nights at Gentech as lab technician that I've been away from my girls. I find myself most worried about little Hollie as I drift into an uneasy sleep.

I wake late in the morning and grab an early lunch from a local dinner. I hadn't thought to bring any clothes with me, so I still have the same grey cotton shirt and jeans from yesterday. It's still before noon as I pay the bill, but I can't think of anything else to do so I head back to the hospital.

Again, I am asked to show my ID, but at least I am allowed to go straight to my mother's room. To my surprise, she greets me with a smile and teary eyes as she looks down from the television. "Rodney! My son! Come here, I'm so happy to see you." I hug my mother gently around the neck, but even so, she groans from the slight movement. I apologize, but she waves me off. "It's nothing, just a little sore. Look how you've grown. A fine man you are now, tell me about yourself; we haven't spoken in years."

We spend almost two hours catching up on each other's lives. I tell her about my house in the country, certain members obviously excluded, and my job at Gentech. She tells me about how she's been promoted to head of human resources at a large corporation. I was surprised to hear that, when we parted, she was working as a lowly stock manager. "I went back to college and finished my business degree. I've just been working up the ladder since then." She shook her head, "Business is a vicious battle. It pays well, but I'm glad that you found something you really love to do."

I bring the conversation back to her condition, "How are you feeling? They said you broke both your legs."

She nods grimly. "Yes, they hurt, but no more than the rest of me. That bastard came right at me on the highway. I veered away but I lost control. I remember spinning and then nothing. They said that I went over the hillside through the barrier and smashed into a tree some 30 feet below the highway. Thank the Lord I always wear my seat belt"

"Yeah, they did catch the guy, they have him in a jail cell right now."

"Well, I'll make sure that he's not getting another drop of liquor for a very long time." Here was a bit of the mother I remember. I had no doubt that she would hire the best lawyer she could afford and make the guy pay out the ass. She was always ruthless, but then I don't blame her, she works in business.

As the conversation wears down, I ask her, "Have they said when they're going to release you?"

"Yes, they said they're going to keep me a few more days for observation, but then I'll be back home."

"Are you going to be alright by yourself?"

My mother looks a little grim. She says, "Honestly, I don't know. It will all depend on how well I can get around in whatever wheelchair they give me. I think my doctor assumed that I would stay with you."

My heart runs cold. I can't have her at my house. What would she think of my cows? Could I possibly hide them from her? I want to see her, but...Is there any possibility she could turn me in?

"Rodney, what's the matter?"

I look back at her and say, "I don't know if you'd like to stay at my house... umm... I keep some animals there and... umm..." As I try to think of a suitable lie, my mother, beyond all reason smiles.

"Rodney, you don't have to be embarrassed. I realized long ago that I was wrong when I hounded you for your... preferences and sent you away. When your father died and you weren't there, I was so alone and I realized how horrible I had been to you. I just want us to be together again, at least for a while. I don't care what you do at you house, that's your life and I have no right to judge."

Something wet slides down my face and I realized that I'm crying. I don't know how long I've waited for my mother to say that. I kiss her on the cheek and hug her. She grunts a bit but hugs back just as tightly.

* * *

A couple days later, I'm still tidying up the house; it never seems clean enough. I've vacuumed, dusted and shined everything in the house. But every few moments I see some crumb, some spec of filth lying around. It's still several more hours until I'm due to pick up Mom from the hospital. She said that she didn't have a problem with my animals, but I've still locked up almost all of them in the barn, much to their protest. Only Hollie is free of the barn, though still confined to my house. Hollie is the only one on the farm in reasonably fit shape (the standard definition of fit, of course). I figure I can butter Mom up with her before exposing her to my more filled out family members.

About four hours later, Mom is sitting beside me, casts on both of her forelegs, and her wheelchair in the back of the truck. We chatter all the way home. It's nice to talk to someone who talks back. It think to myself. "Did the doctors say how long it'll take for your legs to heal?" I ask her.

"Yes, dear. I have an appointment in two weeks to check up on my progress. They say that it should take about six weeks total to heal with the proper medication. Also I'll need some weeks more after that for rehabilitation."

I think to myself, She better be as accepting as she says she is now or the next two months are not going to be fun at all.

My mother comments on the beauty of the forest as we pull into my long and twisty driveway. "You certainly have a lot of land, Rodney. But why do you live so far from where you work?"

I pause before answering. "... I like my privacy."

"I see..."

After I pull my truck into the driveway, I take out the folding wheelchair from the back. The hospital is so cheap. This looks like it's from the 90's. I help my mother into the chair and take her to look around my farm. She admires the grass, despite the fact that most of it is browning in preparation for winter, and the colors of the leaves. She says nothing about the two barns, for which I am thankful. I'm starting to regret having her here already. She makes me feel guilt for what I do here, despite her enthusiasm.

Hollie comes to greet us as soon as I open the door. The young calf fumbles in her steps when she sees Mom, though. Coming closer, Hollie sniffs her and moos loudly, but not, I think, aggressively. My mother turns to me, "You let this calf live in your house?"

I nod, "Yeah, she's my special little girl..." blushing, I add "Not in that way. She's just cute." When I see the look she gives me. "She's very gentle really. Come here, Hollie."

Hollie lets Mom pet her but still looks up at me and gives me puzzled looks. "Hollie, this is my mom, she's going to live with us for a while." Hollie licks my face and I stroke her back. I notice my mom watching, but she doesn't say anything.

After a quick tour around the house, I leave Mom with Hollie in the living room to watch some TV while I make dinner. We eat a simple pasta dinner together and continue swapping stories. Hollie begs but knows better than to jump up or throw her weight around. I grin when I see Mom offering her a long wiggly noodle which Hollie sniffs and devours readily. "So Mom, what did your work say about your injury?"

"Oh, I'm completely covered, thank God. They're giving me the next eight weeks off on paid leave. But I'll be back there as soon as I can walk. People walk all over you when you're gone like this. Fred should take care of my position if that bitch Wendy doesn't do something stupid..." I nod my head as she talks about the subtle war at the office; dozens of people clawing their way up and stabbing each other in the back. I'm not really interested, I heard the same stories when I was a child, they're only more brutal now that she's up the ladder.

"Rodney," she says after about a half hour tirade, "Do you have an internet connection out here? I need at least a phone to talk with my lawyer, but internet would be best."

I smile, "Only the best connection you can ask for outside of a major city. I have a satellite connection. I get most of my work done on the phone and internet too, so I know that it's like." Crap! I forgot to clean out the computer! I realize suddenly. "I'll just be a moment, Mom. Let me set up the computer for you."

"No I don't need anything special..." My Mom starts to say but I'm already gone. As the computer starts up, I try to think of all of the things I don't want my mom to see. Pictures, Recent documents, internet cookies, passwords, my instant messenger... It's enough that she is going to have to deal with my cows, I don't want her seeing my porn here too. It actually takes a moment to figure out where I put the pictures in the maze of files. I haven't had much need of it ever since I joined the bestiality community and began having relations with Bessie. What concerns me more is the loss of my online friends as I uninstall my instant messenger. I have their e-mails written down. I just hope they won't be mad at an eight week disappearing act. It doesn't take me long to sterilize my computer of any trace of my sexual habits.

When I return to the living room, I'm glad to see Hollie lying next to Mom. Her head in her lap and Mom's hand on her head. "Dear, you really didn't need to go through all of that. All I needed was a phone and an internet browser." All I can offer is the lame excuse of wanting to make some new preferences, but I can tell she sees right through my story. She's not a business shark for nothing. Still she doesn't say anything and I sit down on the other side of Hollie. She moos contently as we both scratch and pat her.

The first night passes uneventfully. I had cleared out the guest bedroom, which had become more like a closet over the years for her and I slept in mine, Hollie snoring quietly on a large pillow on the floor at the foot of my bed.

During breakfast the next day, Hollie gives Mom her best big eyed pathetic expression, but to no avail. As we both eat our cereal, I give Hollie bits of banana or berries out of my bowl. "What are you going to do when she gets bigger?" My mom asks, gesturing to Hollie.

I knew exactly where this question was going to go, but I knew it was better to get the shock over with sooner than later. "She's going to live outside with the other cows I own when she's too big to live in the house."

"I didn't see any cows when you took me around your land..."

"They were in the barn. Did you want to see them after breakfast?"

My mother was silent for a long while. She took a spoonful of cereal and then another before she nodded.

I was glad that I had trained Mary long ago to poop on the outskirts of my property as I wheeled mother across the thick grass. There was a ruckus of moos as I opened the barn door; I haven't seen them in over 12 hours. "They're not used to being cooped up except in the winter." I explain. Mother says nothing.

I grimace when I hear her gasp as she sees Mary in one of the largest stalls close to the door. Mary has her head over the metal gate to her stall, her brisket pushing through one of the gaps between the bars. She moos loudly and shakes her girth as she shifts her weight from one side to the other. It is painfully obvious how very wide she is at this angle. I'm just thankful that my mother came after Bessie died. "My God, Rodney, she's enormous. Why'd you let her get so fat? Aren't you worried about her health?"

"She's fine mother. She gets more check-ups than me. I got a bachelor's in veterinary health after I finished my doctorate. As for why I let her get so fat, you should know the answer to that."

"Well... I shouldn't say that I was surprised, considering those photos I found all of those years ago. I have no right to judge you, but aren't you concerned about the well being of your animals?"

" If you saw them on any normal day, you wouldn't have any doubt of their well being."

As I turn the wheelchair around to leave, she surprises me by grabbing my arm. "Show me the rest of your animals." She says.

"Huh?"

"I don't want to be shoved out of my son's life again... Now... let me see the rest of your cows."

Trying not to blush, I say, "Ok, one of them is also a bull."

To my utter astonishment, she actually seems to enjoy the trip as I introduce her to my "family." She pets the snouts of all of them as we walk down the center aisle to all of the stalls. "Well, not all of them are quite as heavy as that first one, what's her name again?"

"Mary, Mom." I say while smiling.

After I take Mom back to the house, I go back out to the barn to release my animals. I sigh with relief as I unlock the gates one by one. That didn't go nearly as bad as I expected. All of my girls and Matthew ran out right away when I opened their gates. When only Mary was left, I entered her stall instead of opening it. I took a full minute to caress her and breath her scent. I felt desire burning within me and had to let her go before the beast took over. It didn't help that Mary too was anxious and exposed her rear to me. Taking deep breaths, I knew that this was not the time. I couldn't afford to be so impulsive when my mother was here. Instead, I opened Mary's gate and walked down to the house. It took supreme willpower to deny myself and her as she prodded me with her snout on the way back to the house. I finally had to push her away when she stuck her nose right into the fork of my legs. "Go on Mary, I can't do anything with you right now. Go eat up some of this grass." Mary snorted at me and took off without being told again. I was glad that I was wearing loose pants that day as I walked back inside. It took me almost half an hour to calm down after Mary's persistent charms.

As the days passed, I really could tell that Mom was trying her best to get along with me. After I told her about how much time I devote to all of their health and observing them for the first few days she finally admitted that I was properly taking care of them and even said that they were "lucky" to have someone as devoted to them as me. But more than her simple politeness, I could tell that she had softened somewhat in her demeanor. Only in the conversations with her lawyer and her fellow business associates could I see glimpses of the passion and ferocity that I remembered from childhood. Thankfully, she didn't even mention religion. Only the frequent comments of "Thank the Lord," or "Praise Jesus" assured that she was still religious.

Despite how bizarre it was having my mother at how, it quickly became a routine for us. After we both ran out of stories to tell each other (I ran out after the first two days) there was actually little for us talk about. We still didn't have much in common, but it no longer felt uneasy being around her as I resumed my daily activities. Over time, her swollen face retuned to its strong, sharp appearance. Her cuts disappeared and left no visible traces of their presence with modern salves. It was not hard caring for my mother. She felt as light as a feather after dealing with Bessie or Mary when they occasionally became ill. Really, she was eager to do as much for herself as she could; she was a proud woman and would not take to being overly pampered. The first two weeks I didn't feel comfortable enough to have sex with Mary or anyone else. Being horny all the time was excruciating though, after years of freely indulging myself.

After two weeks, my mother and I returned to Cumberland Hospital. The doctor temporarily took off her casts and examined her stitches while I was left to languish in the waiting room once again. I did not enjoy my time at the hospital, all it did was to serve as a reminder of how close my mother came to dying. The doctor gave her the thumbs up and rescheduled her for another appointment four more weeks down the road. Hopefully, on that day he could remove her casts for good.

Despite the fact that I thought everything was going smoothly, two weeks later, my mother confronted me suddenly not long after dinner. "Rodney," she said as she placed a hand on my shoulder. "Don't you ever leave your house? The only time I've seen you go was to take me to the hospital or to buy groceries."

I shake my head, "Nah, I know I'm rather reclusive but I'm happy here."

She sighs, "I know, but haven't you ever thought of meeting a woman?"

The question takes me completely by surprise. I had never thought to trying to pursue a woman. It was dangerous enough having my mother here. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like if she alone had come either earlier or later when it would have been apparent that my animals were different. "Well, I just never thought that it was that important. I have everything I need here."

"I know that your animals give you satisfaction, but there is so much more to a relation with a woman, a human woman. Have you never really craved a real relationship?"

I have to stop myself from bursting out at her. I considered all of my relationships with Bessie and Mary real relationships. Mary, above all the rest, gave me back more that I could have ever asked out of a normal animal. She was so much more to me than a pet or even a sex partner as my mother seemed to think. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I disguised it as a sigh and bought time to think of something to say. I knew my mother would never truly understand, so I shook my head, "No, I haven't."

"I understand."

I couldn't say that the last couple weeks were very pleasant. I knew that deep down, she hadn't really changed, she just tolerated me now. Not to say that we couldn't be friends, and I had every intention of keeping in contact with her after she left. I have to say that she recovered remarkably quickly and before I knew it, we were driving back to the hospital. The doctor let me observe when he took the casts off of my mom. Her calves were also scar free if a little thin. Again, Mom surprised me by refusing a wheel chair and using a walker instead. "I spent the last six weeks on my duff, and I don't plan on wasting anymore time. I'll see you in rehabilitation tomorrow, Dr. Monroe."

Before I knew it, I found we were parting ways again. In the lobby, Mom was waiting for a business friend to pick her up and take her home. She said, "I wanted to thank you for taking care of me these past weeks."

"It was no problem, thank you for coming back into my life."

She grabbed my arm and drew me into a tight hug, "I want you to know that I'll always love you. I want to hear from you sometimes too."

I smile and say, "I will. It was really great hosting you. I hope you recover quickly." I didn't linger. It would have just made the departure more awkward. It's actually a relief to be going back home by myself. I had had more social contact in the last six weeks than I had in years; it was tiring and I was eager to slip back into my old lifestyle.

* * *

I found myself once again wading through snow on my farm. It's Christmas Eve and though still before noon, I had plans for a special treat ready for all of my animals. As ever, Hollie followed at my heels. She was growing fast. Already I have her sleeping out in the barn to start getting her used to living outside. Still, the time that I got to have her inside was worth the troubles of getting her to live outside. At 292 lbs, she getting close to double my weight. She was still graceful and has yet to damage anything in the house, but I know that she'll soon be too big to romp around in my living room, no matter how gentle she may be.

The sky is overcast and the air is frigid. The weatherman says there won't be any snow today, but I'm hoping he's wrong; I've always enjoyed the aesthetics of Christmas snow. Only Mary and Jennifer, with their thick coats of blubber are out of the barn. The rest, I know are huddled together inside under the heater.

Jennifer remains largely unchanged since August. Mary usurped her title of heaviest cow within the same week that Mom first came to the farm. Her weight has crept up to 2,893 lbs with the onslaught of winter. I know that she'll probably break into the 2910's before the coming of Spring, only to "slim" down over the summer again. She claws at the ground with the same single mindedness and looks up at me only for a moment before returning to her labors. I really am happy that she's gotten to a comfortable level with her weight by herself. It is not going to be fun when I need to restrict the other's growth when Mary requires my full attention.

I was so proud of Mary when she broke 3,000 lbs over a week ago. She and I spent the whole day together, letting her gorge herself while I made love to her for hours on end. I loved her new additions however slight they might appear on her large frame. Still in BCS 12, her excessive weight hardly handicapped her. True, she never ran anymore and her waddle intensified as the months past, but she was still capable of all of the things she normally did and didn't have a problem moving around as long as she went at her own pace. I have noticed that she prefers to sleep lying down now as opposed to standing. Her preference for lying down extending to most of her activities where she could get away with it. Right now, she was lying on the crisp, light snow. Already, she had devoured all of the buried grass within her head's reach, but she still sat there relaxing in the fresh air. She waged her tail as I approached and mooed. She remained on the ground however; not too long ago she would have always gotten up and come to me so the effort of getting up must be rising for her.

She was lying on her chest with her hind legs twisted to the left. She used this position often now because it offered room for her expansive stomach. Her right hoof was protruding from under the outstretched belly, her left leg resting comfortably on top. When I got near, she flopped fully on her side and exposed her white stomach to me (just like her mother's had been); she loved it when I patted and scratched her belly, and I did too. The skin was loose and followed my hands as I moved them up and down her belly. Mary mooed contently and laid her head on the ground as I massaged her underbelly. I loved grabbing handfuls of her flesh in my hands and her soft thick coat was like velvet in my fingers. I got into all of her folds and creases where her strong limbs interrupted the smooth uniform fat. I had yet to find so much as a single tick on any of my animals, but I always checked when I had the chance. When I got down to her utter, I beat it like a drum, sending waves out over her whole body. It was still very soft with milk, Hollie having only been weaned since late November. Already, though, I could feel the fat invading the tissue as her mammary glands shut down for good.

Acting on impulse, I bent over and stuck my mouth on one of her teats. It had shriveled somewhat in the weeks of inactivity, but it yielded a small stream of thick, rich milk after about half a minute of coaxing with my tongue. While I did enjoy having something warm to drink on the cold day, I enjoyed the semi-sexual contact with my lover much more. Despite the fact that this wasn't an area that cows sexually respond to, Mary mooed happily. I think that she knew that it made me happy. I can't take more than a few mouthfuls of the thick liquid (I'm sure that Mary's milk has the highest fat content on the farm at this point) and it leaves the back of my throat sticky when I'm done.

I feel a bit silly for the whole experience, but I wipe the white fluid off of my lips and spend the next few minutes lying with my chest on top of Mary's, assaulting her neck and head with pets and scratches. After a few more minutes, Hollie came up and nuzzled my elbow, obviously wanting some of the attention I was lathering on Mary. I turned around and sat up, leaning against Mary's thick chest. I stroked Hollie's head and neck and laughed as she licked my face and hands. Mary brought her head back up and mooed loudly; I recognized the tone as one she used when she wanted attention. I laughed even harder, "I can't pet both of you at the same time!" I spent the next few minutes trying my best to split my attention, but I eventually gave up. By the time I got back on my feet, my face was almost dripping with both Mary's and Hollie's saliva.

Wiping my face off, I continued my way towards the barn, Hollie followed like I had her by an invisible leash. I stopped cold when I saw Mary slipping her rear legs back underneath her belly; I always loved watching her get to her feet. Mary widened her hooves out on the ground once she managed to get onto her belly. My cheeks turned red as she rose quickly, her flesh dangling and shaking everywhere. She brought her legs back together in her normal footing and waddled over to me, her belly swaying back and forth with flanks that were just starting to pump up and down. I heard her heavy breaths, not winded, but enough to show that it took considerable effort on her part to get off the ground. I felt myself stiffen and if it weren't for the cold, I might have stripped and taken her right there.

In the barn, my other bovines were indeed huddled under either of the two ceiling heaters. Kristy and Samantha were lying under the warm red glow of the heat lamp near the door, in the back were Matthew, Jessica and Rebecca. I noticed that Mathew had begun to favor the company of Mary, and her first generation daughters. I guess that he left his litter mates for the older ladies now that his sex drive was fully mature. I still had no plans for mating him with anyone in the near future, at least not until Hollie was fully mature.

I went about the barn sharing my attention with all of my cattle. I quickly found myself surrounded, but thankfully the barn was large and roomy. Getting down on their level and really being part of the family was where I was most comfortable; it also allowed me to notice even the smallest changes in their behavior or bodies that might be indicators in my constant battle to prevent disease. I could safely say that all of my cattle were putting on extra girth at their own rates. Though, with the exception of Hollie, the pounds were anything but lean meat. Jessica and Kristy were my heaviest gainers. They were true hogs when the high density food was released. I noticed that both of them didn't care much for grazing; All this winter, they only took to digging for grass on the calmest, most sunny days. I think that they both were simply too lazy to gather forage and had grown to enjoy stuffing themselves on easy to get food. However, Jessica really had outstripped Kristy in her gluttony and was on par with Mary's gains. She had put on just as much blubber as Mary had, over 150lbs since Mother's accident. I already had plans for a special diet for her as an enforced New Year's Resolution.

In fact, I often thought about doing away with the food trough and giving each of them their own diets. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of all the extra work that would be required on my part; I found that I rather liked filling the feeder's silo once a week compared to the old fashioned way I did way back when I first bought Bessie. Still, It might become a necessity rather shortly. I don't want any of my cows getting much over 3,000 lbs (aside from Mary), and Matthew really should stay below 1,700 lbs if I expect him to mount properly whenever the time comes for him to serve his masculine duty.

Both Matthew and Rebecca filled out similarly. They had heavy, deep chests and broad shoulders. Though, at over seven hundred pounds lighter than his half-sister, Matthew still had remnants of a waist and abdominal tuck. Hilariously, Matthew looked and acted more feminine than Rebecca. Unlike, Rebecca, wither her crude, ox-like features, Matthew was the spitting image of the Holstein bull. His thighs and shoulders were tight and thick with huge muscles. His thick neck and deep chest were the only areas that showed signs of major fat deposits. Thankfully his horns were still small, and would, hopefully, remain minimally dangerous for the rest of his life. Also standard, his testies dropped to within half a foot of the hock of his hind legs and I knew that they would only hang lower as he grew older. My heterosexuality was confirmed every time I found myself disgusted with this aspect of Matthew's body. It was completely healthy, but I still resigned myself to doing something about that trait if I ever designed another male. I pictured Matthew with his junk hidden high between his thighs and out of sight where it wasn't swinging practically in my face every time I pass him.

Samantha was a bit of an oddball in that she was both small and relatively lean. Just barely over four feet tall, she was fully grown and was dwarfed by the rest of the family. She was also a light eater and was the only one, besides Hollie, who could probably pass for a normal Holstein. Her obvious intelligence was the only indicator that she was not purely of the Holstein stock. I had a feeling that she, like Jennifer would level off in her weight as some point (not nearly as high as hers though).

Despite all of their individual quirks, I loved every single one of them. I held high hopes for the coming decades. I wanted to make the breed uniform, without weird body types like Samantha or Rebecca, and capable of sustaining itself. Unbidden, I thought of how Mom wanted me to pursue a human lover. I wasn't thinking about the companionship, however, I was thinking about how my cows are going to get along after I'm gone and, perhaps, the need for an heir.

I managed to get everyone out of the barn with minimal effort. I shut the doors behind me so that I could prepare their Christmas presents without any interruption. Both Hollie and Samantha were shivering and crowded around the larger girls as they were ejected from the warmth of the barn. Rebecca didn't seem to mind the cold as she started up a simple chasing game that Samantha, Matthew, and Hollie all eagerly joined. The heavier and less active girls took to digging and grazing as I went to my truck to get the things I picked up last night. Mary tried to follow me, but I shook my head and motioned for her to leave. She shrugged her thick shoulders and left with a flick of her tail; God, how I loved her spunk.

Many large crates of goodies littered the bed of my truck and I took many trips to take them all into the barn. The boxes were all filled to the brim with chocolate, gingerbread, frosting and other holiday snacks. At least they aren't individually wrapped. I thought as I set to work.

I spent hours making plates for each of my special residents. Late in the afternoon, I smiled as I gazed on my handiwork. A large platter was set out with all sorts of sweets for each of my beloved cows (and bull). While mostly composed of chocolate, there were also gumdrops, gingerbread, fruitcake, and some pudding, all of it was slathered with generous heaps of whipped cream.

For Mary, I took the time to set out an extra large platter. It was easily twice as large as the other's portions. I created a whole gingerbread house for her, bigger than my head. Inside was filled to the brim chocolate, pudding, frosting and ice cream. Before I glued the roof of the house on, I pulled a small powder shaker from my pocket. The side was labeled, "Bovine Gain Formula 300," and I applied the contents liberally to the interior of the house. The crotch of my pants grew tight as I prepared Mary's surprise dish. It really doesn't really make that much of a difference for a single meal... but it's erotic as Hell.

I looked at my watch, and sigh. Still only 3:30. I was hoping that this would've taken longer. Oh well, Mary needs to get in here and eat before the ice cream melts... I think the others can come in a bit later. I grin as I think that last thought.

I have no problem getting Mary by herself into the barn. I swear that they can almost understand me when I talk to them. Mary sniffs the air and I grin, knowing that she detects the goodies that are all around her. I led her into her large stall and her fat laden Christmas present. She moves forward of her own accord and sniffs the expertly decorated dish. She looks up at me and I nod, motioning her towards the huge dessert. She gives it a few more sniffs before lightly licking at the frosting. Half a moment later, she is tearing into the house like a monster from an old 50's horror flick.

My pants feel too tight and I begin to sweat despite having turned off the heaters to preserve Mary's dish. Wiping off my brow, I walk forward and stroke Mary's neck as she continues to dig in, not even looking up from the intensely sweet meal. She belches halfway through demolishing the house and continues stuffing her face without missing a beat. I almost can't stand the desire rushing through me. I walk to the wall near the barn's double doors and flick the heater back on. I dropped my trousers and removed my coat and shirt. Standing in only my underwear, I take a moment to draw on the warm rays from the heat lamp above. After adjusting to the coolness of the barn, I went back to Mary's stall to watch her finish her meal. She let out another loud burp and I stiffen so much that it's almost painful. She was still licking the large ceramic plate on which over ten pounds of dense, sugar packed treats once existed, when I make my approach. I reached my hand under her belly and sigh as I grab handfuls of her thick fat that only recently had begun to soften enough for me to do so.

Mary's breath smells like a cross between a bakery and a chocolate foundry as she moos and turns towards me, seeking to fill her hunger for attention now that her gut had been satiated for the moment. I breathe her sweet breath for over a minute, stroking her head and neck the whole time. I move in closer and cuddle against her chest. I shudder with pounding lust as my dick brushes against her brisket. I couldn't take it anymore; I grabbed her neck and thrust into the fleshy sac in front of her forelegs.

I groan as I meet more resistance than I expected. My member slides off to the side, the pain of being bent like that makes me shudder. I feel a tear welling up in my eye from more than the pain as I think about how soft Bessie's brisket was. Bessie's was softer than a water balloon; Mary's felt more like a leather cushion. Well, at least now I have enough sense not to try that again... until later. I also realize that I had forgotten to take off my underwear in my fit of desire. I was still randy as I took off my boxers, I winced as the fabric was drawn across my still sore penis. I didn't care about the pain as I strode around to Mary's rear. I figured I'd have a few minutes to recover as I warmed her up.

Mary guessed my intentions as I lavished time stroking her growing rear, tracing my fingers down the shallow crease between her loin and thighs and grabbing her tail. She began lubricated for me before I even finished my foreplay. I made sure that the old milking stool was within easy foot access before I began my activities.

As always, I used my right hand. I drew my index finger around her swelling vulva, she lifted her tail and dripped some more lubrication as she was aroused. Mary turned her head and mooed at me, I noticed that she liked looking at what I was doing while I pleasured her; I have no idea why, it might increase her pleasure, or maybe, I hope, she likes the bond we create by making eye contact in the final fits of lust and orgasm.

Slowly, I slid my index finger just past the outer lips and pulled it back out to continued rubbing Mary's vulva. She enjoyed when I took it slow and responded the most from a gentle caress. When I finally put my whole hand in, she was so lubricated and aroused that I hardly had to push. Mary let out a deep breath that sounded like a sigh. I grabbed hold of her thigh with my free arm and grabbed her soft flesh as I gave her my first thrust. Mary huffed out a breath and I felt her heat spike as her vaginal walls contracted around my arm. I had spent so much time pleasuring my females like this, I swear that I could orgasm with just the sensations from my arm. I groaned as my hand was squeezed with enormous pressure and thrust again. Mary's muscle spasms quickened and I thrust again and again, hitting each contraction at its peak. We rocked back and forth in concert, both of us working towards the same goal. I held myself close to Mary by gripping her thigh and I felt my dick rubbing against her soft, supple utter. I snorted like a bull in rut and thrust in harder, faster; I could feel Mary building towards orgasm as I concentrated on not coming until she did.

Mary's contractions matched her panting breaths and rose to a fevered pitch as I extracted my arm from Mary while simultaneously climbing on the stool. Blind and raging with lust, I leaned my chest and stomach on top on Mary's loin while gripping her hips. Mary slid her tail aside for me as I penetrated her and I felt it wrap around my waist with its fine, smooth tip trailing down my buttocks. Mary had lots of room to welcome me into her, in fact, her contractions seemed to want to draw me in further even as I had my hips pressed against her rear end. Thoughts of inadequacy or impotence were far from mind, though, as I was living in the moment; all there was was Mary's heat, her gentle touch and my will to keep thrusting with all of my strength. Less than half a minute later, I felt Mary reaching her peak and I allowed myself to follow. Thought was erased as we growled together, moaned together, both of us purely animal for just a few intense moments.

When it was over, I collapsed onto the stool. I panted, covered with sweat (and other fluids), just like Mary. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the fleeting embrace of ecstasy as reality washed over me once again. Mary rocked her hips towards me, nudging me with her rear leg and thigh. I turned around and I could tell from her eyes and body language what she wanted without her saying a word. "Damn, woman, you're insatiable." I said as I rose off the stool for another round. Though, tired as I was, I knew that I wouldn't have her any other way.

At the very end of the barn was a hose and a concrete stall I used to clean and primp the residents of the building. I rinsed of myself first. I shivered with the first contact of the cold water, but it warmed quickly to a mild 65 degrees. After I was done, I said, "Mary, your turn." And gestured with my hand. She walked obediently into the concrete stall and even lined herself up along the wall with just enough space for me to get all around her. I never bothered tying her up, in fact, it would have been insulting for her. I sprayed her down and brushed her with shampoo and conditioner for her soft, smooth coat. I almost laughed at the luxury all of my cows enjoy here on my farm as I rinsed away the foam from Mary's large, sagging body. She was too large for just towels, so I used a small, thin metal comb that sheared away excess water as I ran it along her body. I did, however, dry her crevasses with a towel, like between her gut and thighs. Lastly, I carefully groomed Mary's tail. I made sure to brush out the tangles and knots from the thick, full hair. I sometimes styled the tip of Mary's tail as it was the only place on her body where the hair was thick and long enough. Right now, I put just a dab of styling gel onto the tip so that the whole tail came back together and curled up just a bit. The white hair was thick and bouncy after just being washed; it looked almost like a Christmas decoration.

Mary stood through the whole thing without a complaint, I knew that she loved my attention, and I wondered if she even comprehended being pampered like this. I honestly couldn't ask anything more of Mary, she seemed so perfect to me as she stood there, the queen (and eventual goddess) of my life. Mary turned her head after I was done and flicked her tail into her view. She mooed happily and my heart soared.

Mary followed me back to the front of the barn and I put my clothes back on in preparation for the cold outside. I was sure that the others were getting antsy from being locked out for so long. Mary stood beside me and gave me a long lick up the right side of my face before I opened the door and let the rest of the family in to enjoy their holiday snack.

Later that evening, I sat in my living room. A small Christmas tree was decorated in one corner of the room where I usually kept a glass coffee table. I was drinking slowly from a mug of eggnog and Hollie was lying on the floor in front of me. She was far too heavy for any of the furniture now, but she still enjoyed my company and I sometimes joined her on the floor anyways. I sighed knowing that this would be one of the few evenings I could share with Hollie like this. I was doubtful that she'd be coming still before summer started. I took another sip and slid down onto the carpet. I put her head in my lap and stroked her neck as she mooed softly. I looked at the mantle above the dark television. I had two stockings, one for me and one for Hollie (it just didn't make any sense to have stockings for those that lived outside). While it was rather depressing Christmas shopping mostly for myself for most of the last one and a half decades, I found more happiness in the holiday this year with presents to put under the tree for both Hollie and Mom.

While most presents for my bovine family usually consisted of food or silly articles of clothing, I did get something useful for Hollie, who seemed to me to have the greatest potential in cognizance aside from Mary. I couldn't wait to have her open it tomorrow morning.

After I finished my eggnog, I noticed that Hollie had closed her eyes while I had been stroking her. There was a time when I would have allowed her to go to sleep and then carried her to her pillow at the foot of my bed. Alas, at just under 300 lbs, she was far too heavy for me to do that anymore. I tickled her chin and patted her cheeks to wake her. Her light brown eyes greeting me and I smiled as I rose and walked to my room. Hollie got up and followed me. As I stripped down to my underwear for sleep, I thought about the special times we had together and how little time I had left to spend with her like this. I saw Hollie curl up on her wide (and heavily flattened) pillow. I decided to forgo my mattress this evening and curled up with Hollie. I wrapped my arms around her neck and laid there with my stomach against her back while her warmth kept me comfortable through the chilly night.

I awoke the next morning to a soft grey light peering through the windows and the quiet snoring of the adorable calf I had spent the night with. I reached down to pat her belly and winced at the stiffness in my back; Hollie had long ago crushed the padding out of her pillow. The noise of my getting dressed woke Hollie, but she did not stick around. She mooed at me and walked to the kitchen. I knew she had to go, so I held my trousers by one hand, the half threaded belt dangling behind me, and opened the kitchen door for her.

After I had had a delicious breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, Hollie rejoined me and I fed her two bananas, four apples, and a half dozen carrots for breakfast. I didn't have much time before I planned on leaving to visit my mother, so I got right down to business and took Hollie's stocking off the wall. With her seated in front of me, I reached in and pulled out several paint brushes of various sizes. She sniffed them and looked back up at me. "They're paint brushes, Hollie; tonight, I'm going to teach you to paint... hopefully." I waved one of the brushes in the air and then stuck it in her mouth. She mimicked what I had done and I was more sure than ever that she would enjoy this present.

Under the tree was a large watercolor paint set and a box with a Christmas hat for her. I tied the string under her chin and took a few pictures before I went outside to deliver my other presents to the rest of the family.

I had a sack over my shoulder and a red hat on my head as I came to the barn. Only Samantha and Matthew were awake and were eating lazily out of the food trough. For Samantha, I pulled out a large fruitcake and put it in the trough for her. For Matthew, I put a red scarf around his neck. After delivering the first two presents, I went from stall to stall to deliver their presents to the rest of them as they slept.

Jessica and Kristy both got Christmas hats. Jennifer got a festive bow for her tail (she was the least able to appreciate decorations and immediately threw off headgear or scarves). Rebecca got another scarf, except that it was green to go with Matthew's red. For Mary, I laid out three large fruitcakes and tied a Christmas bonnet around her head. Awakened by the sweet smell, I hand fed her all three cakes as she lied on her side, her tail waggling the whole time. My hands were sticky with sugar and I let Mary lick them clean for me. As she did, I wondered how many pounds she had put on from the rich holiday diet I've been feeding her these last couple days. I grabbed her chubby cheeks and looked into her blue eyes. They were so lovely, I wished that I didn't have six hours on the road looming ahead of me before I could return to them.

As things were, however, I did look forward to seeing my mother for the first time since I left her at the hospital. I had been calling her at least once a week since then, and I felt that we had a strong bond now. Besides, it wouldn't do to spend Christmas "alone" I thought wryly as I climbed in my truck.

The drive was just as long and boring as I expected. Grey clouds hung overhead, and fog crept along the highway at an unusually late hour. I forced myself to listen to the cheery Christmas tunes on the radio as I drove down the empty highway. Once I reached Cumberland, I still had about half an hour before I finally reached the home that I grew up in.

It was nestled in the depths of the suburbs. If not for the detailed address that I had been given, I would never have found the place in the midst of miles and miles of clean, moderate and identical houses. I laughed internally, One would never suppose that a person as... "eccentric" as I would have grown up in a house so plain.

The walk was shoveled with precision, you could imagine cutting yourself on angles so sharp. The house was a light yellow, leaning towards whiteness. A frozen fountain was half buried in the snow and lawn gnomes guarded the walkway to the front door. My arms were loaded with the presents I had bought so I had to drop the large one that used both my hands to ring the door bell. The tones rose and fell from deep within the house as I picked up my package. Just a few moments later, my mother came out the greet me and welcomed me inside. All too soon, I found myself sitting on the couch with a cup of eggnog (dreadfully devoid of any alcohol whatsoever) in one hand and a homemade cookie in the other. After several minutes of pleasantries, my mother said, "Rodney, there's someone who I'd like you to meet."

Before I could ask who, she had already left. She returned with a tall man in slacks. His skin was tanned and his thinning black hair was streaked stylishly with grey. He had just the hint of wrinkles on his face that made him look more distinguished than old. "Robert, this is my son, Rodney. Rodney, this is my fiancé, Robert."

My jaw literally dropped. This was the last thing that I had expected, and on of all days. I managed to splutter out, "Fiancé?"

"Yes, my fiancé. We met at the office... what's wrong Rodney? You look pale."

I took a few breaths to calm myself. "It's nothing. I just never expected you to marry again. I mean, it's been so long since Dad died...."

"I know Rodney, I had given up on meeting anybody myself. But then Robert came along. We had lunch together and..." She put a hand around Robert's waist, "The rest is history."

I stood and threw on a smile as Robert came and shook my hand. He had a firm grip that I liked right away. I was still flustered with the sudden presence of this man, but I got the feeling that I could like him. "Your mother is a fabulous woman." He said in a deep and slightly gruff voice.

As we talked, my initial concerns vanished. Robert was an executive at another (and thankfully non-competitive) firm. At the age of 50, he was nine years my mother's junior. They both knew how harsh the corporate life was and had a lot in common (far more than I myself had in common with her). We talked for a long while and exchanged presents. I was about to apologize for not bringing Robert a present when Mom interrupted me, "No need to apologize. I wanted Robert to be a surprise, so it's not a problem. He can blame me for it." She smiled and gripped his thigh. I never thought I had seen her so cheery before. Mom opened up a Christmas card with a $500 universal gift card and an authentic 1950's antique chinaware set.

My present was large and flat. I ripped of the festive paper and revealed a plain manila envelope. Mom said, "I thought I'd get you something useful this year." When I opened the envelope, I saw that there was a packet of legal documents and a certificate inside. "I was thinking about you financial security, son. That's $1000 worth of shares in an agricultural firm called, West Bay Farms. I also added you to my account with my stock broker, Howard Nelson, you can call him to ask how your stock is doing."

I nodded my head, "Hmmm.... Well, thanks, Mom."

Her smile faded, "Rodney, I was just thinking about your future. There's nothing left of Social Security except for the dirt poor. If you don't have at least a few hundred grand to lean on when you retire, you won't be able to make it. This is just a start, if you take a portion of your paycheck every month and invest it, you'll be set for life. And it'll be nice to have something to leave your children... if you decide to have children someday."

"Ah, so that's what this present is really about. She wants me to think about things to leave my children. Well... there's only a few people I am thinking about leaving in my will, and they all have four hooves and tails." I thought. However, I said, "Well, thanks a lot Mom. I really appreciate it. Who knows, I might get lucky and be able to retire early." I put on a smile and hoped Mom would buy it. Mom smiled back, but I couldn't tell if she was faking either.

The rest of the evening was spent at the dinning table talking and eating a catered Christmas dinner (Mom never learned how to cook, she was always far too busy). I thought the whole time was pleasant and it was nice to have just a few hours of a semi-normal life. I tried my best to remember everything my future father-in-law told me about himself, but, as with all my social interactions, the details fled from my mind almost as quickly as they entered.

I left shortly after dinner, I had a long and lonely drive ahead of me and I didn't want to be falling asleep at the wheel. I took my envelope with my newfound stocks and kissed my mother on the cheek and gave her a hug. I accepted a firm hand shake from Robert and he said, "It was very nice to meet you, Rodney. If you're anything like your mother, I think we'll be good friends." With that he pulled me into a tight hug and, though I was surprised, I hugged back. As I backed out of the driveway and saw the new couple in the doorway watching me leave, something deep down within me twinged and I suddenly wanted to cry, though no tears came forth.

I felt better as soon as I got on the road. I had no idea why I suddenly felt so sad that I was leaving. I wondered if there really was a part of me that desired a normal life, to have a significant other to be with. "It's just not feasible." I told myself, "I'm so anti-social, I can hardly get through a Christmas dinner with my mother. I can't possibly hope to attract someone into my life. Besides, I couldn't possibly trust my secret with anyone. It could cost my life and the lives of all my cows if anyone knew the truth. No I'll just have to settle for the relationship I can get from Mary, Hollie and the others.

"...I wonder though, just how far that will go. Perhaps that paint set will help me see just how smart Hollie is..." All the time on the road, I thought about things to teach Hollie about painting and the fun we'd have together. The trip home seemed to take no time at all.

July 15, 2037

It was a warm day in summer. I wiped the sweat from my brow and took another drink of my lemonade as I sat out on the patio overlooking the pasture. Hollie was standing by my side, a paint brush in her mouth, and painting on an easel. She was fully grown now and stood 5'2" at the shoulder. She had a sturdy frame and was just a bit chubby. I would have rated her at a lean BCS 7 (or a heavy BCS 6) despite her weight of 1,648 pounds.

It was simply astounding how far she had come in intellect. Despite lacking fingers, she wielded the brush gracefully as she painted the pasture ahead of us. I was simply amazed when she progressed out of abstract art within three months of my tutoring her. I could tell that she truly comprehended what she saw as objects and understood perspective as well as empathy and self-awareness.

I was so proud of Hollie. She proved to be on par with a human toddler's intellect, and far more mature. She had mastered shapes and colors and could identify hundreds of different objects. She enjoyed painting the landscape as well as me and the other cows on the farm (especially Mary and Samantha). Of course, the drawings were very crude as she had to use her mouth, but I could always see what she was trying to do. Right now, I was introducing her to letters. Progress was painfully slow, but she was young still and had the handicap of being incapable of pronouncing any sort of human language.

I took a moment to admire how Hollie drew broad strokes of green on the paper. She dropped the brush into a tin full of grey water and pulled out another one. She dipped it in the red paint on her color pad and worked carefully to recreate the barn where she lived. It had been easier than I expected to get Hollie to sleep in the barn with the others. She clearly understood most simple sentences, I just hand to limit my vocabulary. So she took it relatively easy after I explained that she was too big to live in my house anymore. She still bawled and cried the first few nights, but she seemed to have adjusted quite well now.

I stood up and walked over to Hollie. I brushed my hand along her protruding spine and she swatted at me with her tail playfully. She put the brush down and mooed at me. Though not being able to talk, she defiantly captured the inflection and tone of what she wanted o say. Her moo rose in inflection towards the end and I knew that she was greeting me. I smiled and looked at the well drawn rectangle that was the barn on her pasture. "Let me help you out a little." I said and picked up the finest brush from tin of water. I put a door and window on the barn and as I worked, Hollie picked her brush back up and painted the sky. I added some definition to the barn as well as texture to the grass. Surprisingly, Hollie managed to recreate the scant clouds over head masterfully.

When it was done, I signed both our names at the bottom of the page. "See, Hollie? That's your name, H-O-L-L-I-E. Hollie." I said. Hollie nodded her head, but I wasn't sure if she was agreeing with me that that was how it was spelled or if that was her name.

Carefully, I ripped the page off of the paper pad and took it with me to the barn. Hollie had quite the art collection in her stall now and liked all of her accomplishments hung on the wall.

As I walked, I turned the painted side into the wind to dry and looked out over the pasture. I knew all my cows would be out today, but only Mary, Kristy and Jennifer were in view at the moment.

Kristy was grazing with Jennifer about 200 feet west of the barn. I was proud of Jennifer. She was turning eleven this year and will soon be the longest lived cow ever on the farm. She was also the most resistant to change from the passing months. She walked as briskly and easily as she did when she was five and I doubted that I would see any visible signs of age on her for years more to come. Despite it being summer, her weight had fluctuated up to 2,895 lbs. However, her skin was still loose on her from her brief stay in the 3,000's.

Kristy was happily grazing beside her aunt. She went at the grass with a merry gait as opposed to the single mindedness of her less intelligent predecessor. I managed to curb her and Samantha's excess gains with a mild Leptin supplement that I manufactured myself in the lab. I was relieved that I didn't have to forgo the universal feeder and have to manually feed each of my cows. Basically, Both Samantha and Kristy's Leptin levels were hanging around 15% of a normal Holstein's (Mary's was at about 8% and Bessie had produced almost none). The supplement brought that up to about 50% so they ate less, but still managed to grow their luscious curves.

I thought it was fun watching the thin white strips on her flanks widen as her gut expanded. She sat precariously just below BCS 11. She put most of her weight into her rear half. Her brisket was small, like her mother's, and her neck and chest were relatively lean as well. Her belly was expansive, however, and had come even with her overly large (almost the size of a standard Holstein's) utter many months ago. Already, I noticed that the nipples there tilted about 15° away from the ground towards her hind legs. I knew that her belly would press them sideways much sooner than Mary or even Bessie's had. Likewise, she was also heavy in the loin. The shelf had risen to submerge her tail head over a year ago, and while it didn't yet form a crease over her thighs, it sat precariously high over them. Sometimes I feared for her mobility later in life, but I always assured myself that I wouldn't let her get to that point.

Mary was quite the sloth now. She was relaxing in the sun just off to the side from the entrance to the barn (and her food supply). She had her chest underneath herself with her belly twisted to the left so that she was looking at me as I approached. She was less than 330 lbs short of a full two tons now. I realized that while it had taken a while for Mary to get so high, it was well worth the wait. Her beautiful and striking black and white coat was shining in the sunlight, just a hint of pink showed in her white patches. Mary was smooth and rounded almost everywhere with just the barest hint of cellulite on the underside of her neck. She bellowed with enough force to jiggle the thin waddle under her chin and I waved at her to assure her that I was paying attention (Though how she could have missed my open glares, I didn't know). Her cheeks had thickened slightly, but her dark blue eyes still pierced me from their black lined "glasses" with the same force as before. Her neck and brisket had filled out much more over the last year and I was thankful that she wasn't as lopsided as either Rebecca or Kristy. Thick with fat, her neck was losing the battle to maintain its shape and resulted in her thin waddle that trailed over halfway down her neck. Her brisket had grown and hid her forelegs which were bent underneath her chest. The flesh piled up on the ground and formed a smooth thick roll over the spot where her front legs were. I sighed as desire built up within me.

While her chest and back were noticeably thicker, as always, the majority of her adipose gains went to her belly. Even though her hind legs were fully extended, her belly nearly covered the one the rested underneath it. Only the hoof visibly protruded from under the think blanket rested atop it. Spread out as it was on the floor, it was actually rather flat. It stuck out so far that instead of rising quickly to the hips and back (the highest point in her position), there was a wide plain that was almost level and stretched over one and a half feet from her body. The leg that rested on top of her gut was parallel to the ground. I looked forward to (if she could manage the position later) seeing it actually rise away from it from the force of her belly. Not having lactated in almost two years had shriveled her teats to small nodes, however, they weren't as small as Bessie's had been; Mary was an experienced mother and had cared for twice as many children as Bessie. The flesh under the pink, hairless skin was as firm as the rest of her fat and I knew that, in the long run, the adipose would overtake and permanently clog her mammary tissue even if she were to become pregnant again.

To my disappointment, she didn't rise to greet me even as Hollie and I passed into the barn and out of her sight. Her ascension into BCS 13 coincided with a large cut in her activity level. I was glad though at the way she managed to get along even burdened as she was. Her small brisket proved to be a blessing as she wasn't hindered in the slightest in her grazing ability or the mobility in her neck. Really, the only visible effects of her extra pounds had been an increased preference for lying down, a slower, heavier waddle, and a harder time getting up. Hollie walked ahead of me and led me into her stall enthusiastically. She turned around and pointed her snout at a bare spot on one of the beams beside her gate.

When I pinned her newest work onto the beam, she mooed loudly and walked over to lick my face. I petted her and relished for a moment her strongly muscled neck and shoulders. A shallow coating of softness marked Hollie as a prime specimen. With her lean, but well toned body with just a hint of chubbiness, I had no doubt that she could win a dairy cow competition. The only thing that would bar her was her small utter which was nearly hidden between her thighs. Not the massive bloated thing that you see even on the most primped and spoiled prize cow, her nipples had yet to feel the presence of milk or a firm milker's hand (though a gentle caress was another story).

Like with Mary, I skipped Hollie's first estrus in favor of full development. I had no doubt now who would be the mother for the next generation of bovines, but I still wondered what was left to be done with the genes before I would be satisfied to leave the breed in nature's hands. Hollie had fully incorporated my genes that I infected Mary with as a mere blastosphere into her genetic makeup. I wondered how much more I could increase their intelligence with one last dose of human genes. "Well that's far and away from now." I thought, "She's not due for another heat until March. At least I have time to think about just how smart I want them to be. Ha! Won't Mother be surprised when she meets the 'woman' of my life."

I squeezed Hollie once more and turned to leave her stall to do some work in the house. I was surprised to see the second heaviest cow on the farm trudging into the barn as I was leaving. At a massive 2,953 lbs, Jessica had usurped Jennifer of even 2nd place this summer. The great, limb sac of flesh affixed to her front drew my eye as I felt familiar hormones rushing through my body. Her brisket swayed back and forth with every step she took and consumed the entirety of her lower neck. Its foremost point came up to her thick cheeks. Its texture was wrinkled and thick with cellulite from her quick gains. She mooed at me as she past and showed off her greatest asset with a flourish of her head; she knew the power she had over me. Her chest was thick and her belly was large, but her utter hadn't yet fused into her gut, it was far too firm yet.

Sometimes I wondered if she was trying to steal my affection. It was obvious that my cows knew I had taken Mary and Hollie as my favorites above the rest of them (aside from Jennifer). I had learned to sex with Mary inside closed doors as we were prone to interruption from one of the other females (usually Kristy or Jessica, but Samantha wasn't entirely blameless either). Matthew never posed a problem. He was always submissive to me, and even most of the females. Sometimes I wondered if he would be willing to impregnate Hollie when the time finally came to call on him. He was still a virgin and repeatedly separating him from females in heat may have inadvertently lowered his sex drive.

As I was practically drooling over Jessica as she passed me and went to lie in the shade of her stall, I received a sharp jab from Hollie's snout. I knew immediately that she was jealous of my stares (or perhaps the scent of my desire). I sighed, even with animals, relationships weren't easy.

Later that evening, after I had finished my day's work for Gentech, I sat with Hollie under my patio in the dying rays of the sun. The patio lights provided the light we needed for her lessons. I had already spent some time with flash cards of random pictures I had her identify. We moved on to the alphabet. She could recognize all of the letters now, but she was still having trouble putting them together. I put down three cards in front of her with the letters C, O, and W. I also put down a few flash cards with the images of a chair, a tree, a dog and a cow. "Alright, Hollie, What does this spell?" Hollie looked at the cards for a moment and then picked up the card with the picture of the cow. "Good job, Hollie!" I gave her praise and rubbed her neck before continuing with other simple words.

Despite all the months of teaching her, it still amazed me that a cow was learning how to read. My lesson plan for her included learning to read and write English as well as an early elementary school student and eventually simple arithmetic. I loved Hollie so much, it was my hope that she'd someday be able to offer me a relationship as close to a human's as I could ask.

I ended her lesson after about an hour. She was eager for more and really enjoyed working with me, but I didn't want to stress her. Besides, this kind of learning only really happened with endless repetition. Only once you got these basic building blocks in place, though, could you expect a faster learning rate. I kissed her on the nose and rubbed her short snout before sending her to the barn. I watched from the porch as she went in and tugged on the rope I had attached to the handles and shut the door. I smiled at her accomplishments and also enjoyed the fact that as her knowledge grew, she made my life easier.

* * *

Once you settle into a routine, it is startling how fast time can fly. Days trickled away like grains of sand in an hourglass and all too soon months were flying by just as rapidly. One by one, I had to "cap" off most of my female's gains. I cut off Jessica's gains in late February after she broke 3,300 pounds. Again, I decided to do this with supplemental Leptin rather than trying to control how much she ate. I created an adhesive patch that I placed on her utter every two days to level off her Leptin level at about 90% of normal. She still needed excess Calories to maintain her high weight, but she was down to a diet of mostly pasture and only a minimum of high yield grains.

Hollie came into heat in March, just as I predicted. I finally decided that the time had come for the farm to welcome new life into the world. Despite my intentions in breeding Matthew, I did not let him breed with her directly. Just like all of the past impregnations, I sat and worked my magic upon Hollie's eggs and Matthew's sperm which sat in a Petri dish under my microscope. Again, I infused human DNA into the genetic code, focusing entirely on the brain region. To my dismay, the models predicted a slightly oversized cranium and I hoped that I wouldn't have to put the newborns down if they turned out to be mutated in an uncomely fashion (and also that Hollie would be able to pass them).

To his surprise, I did let Matthew have access to Hollie mere hours after I artificially inseminated her. I walked her into the small pen I had him locked up in and watched nature at work. Matthew was tentative at first and I doubted for a moment whether he was assertive enough to mount her. Many times, Hollie looked to me with her large eyes; she was undoubtedly confused, but, for once, I couldn't read her well. She might have been mixed up with my role as the dominant male in her life so far, and to being accosted by this randy and very inexperienced bull. It took over fifteen minutes of sniffing and awkward passes before he finally mounted her. Surprisingly, I took pleasure from seeing the natural plumbing at work for the first time since I had Doug all those years ago. Matthew was obviously very heavy for poor Hollie and she staggered under his bulk. Not being able to hop very far up Hollie's back from his excess weight, Matthew put his full two and a half feet of slightly prehensile penis to work. Once he hit home, he thrust with his pelvis while trying to shimmy additional inches up Hollie's back and occasionally taking a step forward.

Despite not being the first time she had been penetrated, Hollie moaned and bucked for Matthew more intensely than even in our wildest romances. Again, I found myself jealous that I was incapable of arousing such passion from my ladies.

After only one round that lasted less than three minutes, Matthew was winded and slid off of Hollie to lie in the grass. His gut rocked up and down with his breaths and I realized that I had let him get too fat despite having limited him to under 1,700 pounds.

When I opened the gate, Hollie seemed to still be confused and didn't come until I called her name. She licked me profusely and rubbed her head against me. She grew antsy when she suck her nose into my crotch and took several deep sniffs. She abruptly turned around and I had to jump away to avoid being hit by her hips. She exposed her lubricating pink vulva to me and turned her head back and mooed.

I hesitated and Hollie let loose a few teaspoons of urine as her way of saying "I want sex, right now!" This was an especially clear sign since Hollie had excellent bladder control. I figured I had no right to turn her down after what I basically forced her to go through just now. As I rolled up my sleeve, I supposed that I should take it as an honor. This sort of behavior was found in several highly social animals and could even have traces present in human courtship; she was choosing, in her mind, the better male partner.

* * *

Ten months later, it was late January and Hollie had just given birth to two brand new Holstein heifers. She handled her first calving like a professional and took less than five hours from start to finish. The twins did indeed have large foreheads, but it was hard to tell since calves have large heads to begin with. They were perfectly well formed and adorable nonetheless, however, so I had no need to cull them at birth. I had high hopes that they would be virtually indistinguishable from other Holsteins aside from the size of their craniums.

As I exited the house two days after the births, I wore only a light windbreaker as we were in the middle of a freak thaw. The icicles dripped from the gutters and patches of bright green grass were visible in spotty patches across the yard. I watched the icicles carefully as I crossed the threshold and out into the field, There were several that looked like they could kill a man and several times in the last few days, icicles fell and drove through the icy slush and inches into the ground underneath.

Really, I preferred the dead frozen depths of winter to this icy, slushy mess, especially since I knew that we would be frozen again before spring came. Both Mary and Jessica were lame with hoof infections from the freezing slush that had become the yard. Poor things, I thought, they sink up to their ankles with the ground as soft and muddy as this. Both of them had been confined to the barn since before the calves were born. Jessica could limp somewhat to get around the barn, and I kept Mary off her feet altogether, not that she was even capable of lifting her 4,400 lbs with two infected hooves. I fumed at Mary's state, She shouldn't be confined to the ground at this late stage in her development. Every day that she's not moving is atrophying her muscles that much more. God, how I would love to see her mobile at 5,000 pounds. That wasn't actually a pipe dream, Mary had been doing extremely well with her weight. Even though she rated a BCS of 14, she moved as well as she did in BCS thirteen. She still took long walks, shifting her massive flanks side to side with great strength. I longed for the day that I could get her back on her feet and take some time for some heavy rehabilitation (no pun intended).

Out enjoying the clear sky of the thaw were all of the members of my farm, including the two newest ones. Both were nursing off of Hollie's small utter high between her thighs. Both of them were evenly patchy with black and white. One of them had a face that was half covered with black; I had named her Lauren. The other heifer had an entirely black head with a beautiful white collar and white "socks;" she had been named Cathleen. Despite not having great milk producing abilities, Hollie seemed able to keep up with the young ones and their food demand.

Hollie had come a long way since I began her education. Physically, she was only about 80 lbs heavier now than before I impregnated her, but mentally, she had soared beyond my wildest expectations. Hollie had a full grasp of the English language now; she could read at a sixth grade level. She had also developed the dexterity in her neck and learned to use her tongue as well as her head to obtain a very decent ability to write and draw. She knew fully everything that I said to her and enjoyed long monologue from me. Communication was still primarily one way at this point, however, due to her inability to talk. Still, she could write to me if she had the time and supplies on "hand." Also, I had managed to learn many of her moos and could get a general picture of what she was trying to tell me.

I had less progress in left brain activities, however. She never learned more than simple arithmetic up to long division. Also, she never really expressed much interest in math, she seemed antsy during lessons and wanted more to paint and read than anything else. I was about ready to let go of her mathematical education at this point. By this time, she had plastered her stall twice over with her paintings that ever grew in complexity. To my amazement, she grew to draw things that she had never seen before; mountains, lakes, castles and cities lined her stall nowadays, along with truly masterful abstract works and a great many portraits of myself, Mary and some of the other cows.

Also out in the field was Samantha, and Kristy who were grazing together. Rebecca, Matthew and Jennifer were al spaced out further apart and by themselves. Despite her apparent static weight, Jennifer had fooled me over the past year. I hadn't been strict about her no grain diet in years, and behind my back, Jennifer had shot up over two hundred pounds. Despite being at her heaviest ever, I hadn't noticed her additions until just over a month ago when I felt in the mood to cuddle with her. One thing had lead to another and I ended up masturbating into the fold between her leg and belly, it was only in the fit of passion did I notice how much firmer her skin was and how much tighter the fold was. I had gotten her on the scale immediately after that, and to my utter surprise, it read: 3,187, over 100 lbs past her prior record. She honestly didn't look any different; they could only be detected by the added firmness of her previously sagging and loose skin. I decided then that I rather liked the way she looked and felt and I didn't and haven't since done anything to curb her gains. I knew it was dangerous with her almost ten years old now, but I figured that signs of health disorders would show eventually and that her natural "maximum" can't be that much higher.

With her supplement, Jessica had put on a meager 70 lbs since I started her treatment when she broke 3,300 pounds. Her brisket was still heavily endowed and consumed the entirety of her lower neck. It was wider than her shoulders and bounced side to side as she moved her legs. Obviously, it got in the way of her normal grazing as she had to depress her head into it to get at the grass. With her head down, the fat came up halfway to the bridge of her snout, only the fact that it didn't reach the ground enabled her to continued grazing relatively well. Constantly, she invited me to come and play with her flesh in her attempt, I presume, to become Alpha Female. I was only too happy to stick my hands into her neck and savor its softness; So many times I had come into her stall while she was lying down to ejaculate into its welcoming embrace. Mary didn't usually care since she spent most of her time grounded somewhere else and never found out about my, "affairs." I did, however, receive harsh punishment from Hollie when she found me near her covered with the scent of sex on me. Often she refused to talk to me for hours, and refused sexing for days at a time. Jessica received even harsher treatment if I failed to clean off my seed from her. Hollie was prone to bite and kick her less physically capable half-sister if she caught her so marked. I tried explaining to her so many times that it wasn't personal, that I was only satisfying a sexual need and that all of them had their own unique body types that I liked to explore, but she wouldn't listen. Nowadays, she stormed off mid-speech if I started up that lecture again.

Matthew had regained a small portion of his waist since I put him on a diet after his rather poor performance with Hollie last year. He had managed to loose over 50 pounds and looked a bit livelier. I had a weight goal for him of 1,540 lbs, so he still had almost 100 more to go before I would be happy with his ability to perform the next time called on him. If Cathleen and Lauren proved to be the final versions of the breed I was looking for, then I planned on operating on his testies to produce the variant without future intervention.

Kristy had put on over four hundred pounds and it appeared that more half of it had found its way into her rump and belly. As I watched her, it was clear that she was the ultimate example of the pear body type if it had been translated into the bovine form. Despite not having yet reached a quarter ton more after her first, her gut hung as low as one would expect a cow of over 3,000 lbs of girth. Her loin was tall and thick on her rump and was already beginning to form the characteristic crease of the fat waiting to spill over onto her thighs. Her huge utter looked as though it longed for a calf in order to fill with milk. As it was, however, it was firm and thick with fat, the nipples spread out wide towards her ankles on both sides and already retreating towards the gap between her legs. I knew that if she wasn't impregnated within the next year or so (and I had no plans of breeding her) her utter would never know the softness of milk laden mammary tissue. All of this came at the expense of her front end, though. Her shoulders and forelimbs were thin and showed their well formed muscles. Definition of her muscleclature was visible all along her neck and chest as well. Her brisket was small and peach-like, her face slim and well defined. It was almost like she was the conglomeration of two very differently weighted cows. I seriously doubted that she could handle a full 3,300 pounds like her other brethren. She already had a very heavy waddle that degraded into hobbling at times. She had a great amount of difficulty with her hind legs for obvious reasons. I definitely planned on having her cut off much earlier than the others.

I already had a large database formed with the genetic codes of all of my cows held within. I hoped to stabilize my breed within the next one or two generations. I wanted no more strange and unappealing body types like Kristy and Rebecca. I wanted all future cows to be tall and strong unlike the runt that Samantha had turned out to be. Even Jessica's luscious brisket was too excessive. If I had taken her for my bovine feedee, I would have so many more health issues to deal with. Indeed, I found myself thankful that I had such pristine examples of bovine perfection in both Mary and Hollie. I hoped and wished with all my heart that the new generation would not disappoint me. If they took after their mother, I would be one step closer to my dream of a breed of cow that could function without my constant intervention. I was young still, but I wanted this project to be self sustaining well before the long spiral into old age. It will be enough trouble just keeping the animals at that point

In the main barn, I found both my sick cows in their individual stalls. I stopped at Mary's whose was closest to the door. She was lying on her side with the massive expanse of her belly spread out before her. She had to lift her head up as much as she could with her thick neck to see over the horizon of her massively edowned abdomen. She mooed when she saw me, but it sounded deep to my ears, almost like a moan. Supple pink skin was visible between each white hair on her tummy as well as on all of her white patches. She laid her head back on the ground as if she was tiring of the exertion it took to lift it; she didn't close her eyes, however. Despite growing hard the moment I stepped into her pen at the sight of her vastness, I didn't wish immobility on her, I had learned that it is an ugly thing, and one that is an unfortunate side effect of creating a goddess. I wanted to see her waddling her slow gait again, to see the sweat on her brow and the sway of her massive flanks.

As it was, I was unfortunate in that the infections on both her hooves had become quite serious by the time that I had spotted them. I am sure that they had developed in just over a day, but now they threatened to immobilize my lover prematurely if I couldn't cure her fast enough. The infections were on both of her rear legs, the ones that bore the majority of her bulk and dug the deepest into the cold wet ground in the first day of the thaw. I walked up to her utter and examined her hooves. I could only see one at the moment, the other was buried deep under her fatty udder.

Slowly, I removed the bandages from her right hoof. I sighed with relief when I saw that the topical and intravenous antibiotics I had given Mary were taking effect. When I had first discovered that Mary had contracted hoof rot, a thick white pus had been oozing from an open legion between her toes. The skin was still bright read and very swollen, but the pus was gone now and the sore was starting to close. I suspected that this hoof would be ready to support her weight again within two days as long as she remained dry. Getting to her other hoof was a hassle that I enjoyed immensely. I grunted and pulled at the great blanket of limp flesh that spread forth from Bessie's body. The massive roll of adipose was already tremendously heavy and I needed to lay it on two small stools so that I could examine her hoof. When I removed the bandage, I sighed, obviously, being buried under several hundred pounds of fat hadn't helped the healing process here. While the hoof was no worse, it was certainly no better. The sour smell of pus made me wrinkle my nose. Again the sore was between the toes and was open. It bled slightly and leaked pus, but at least it was at a slower rate than I had first seen. Mary grunted and moaned pitifully with pain as I cleaned the area again, actually having to get on my belly and stick my head under her suspended gut. I applied more topical antimicrobial and rewrapped the hoof. However uncomfortable it was for her, I decided to leave the stools in place to let the hoof get some air. I could have had her roll over, but that would only have served to switch which hoof was being maltreated. I said to Mary, "Mary, you need to leave those stools in place, no matter how much they hurt. Don't roll over or try to kick them. Understand?" With her sad, half-lidded eyes, Mary nodded.

I was happy that Hollie had been able to help Mary with her education where I had fallen off. She understood me as well as a second grader now, though she was not interested in drawing and had no concept of math. As I parted her, I threw myself onto her fat foreleg and brought my arms around her neck as much as I could. I felt myself sinking into her flesh and hugged her tighter, grinding my crotch against her chest. Mary mooed more cheerfully and brought her head up to lick my shoulder. I ran my hands over her head and face. Mary's fat engorged cheeks were starting to droop into jowls. Also, the wattle under her neck had filled out immensely, forming a great sac of cellulite that started at the tip of her snout and came up under her jaw muscles only to comeback down and widen into the thick clumps of fat that gathered on the bottom of her neck and descended eventually into her full and heavy brisket. I fingered her neck, relishing in its incredible softness and irregularity. Still grinding my crotch against the sagging flesh behind her forelegs, I felt an orgasm building. I moaned as focused on not cummining in my trousers. The light orgasm was not worth the aftereffects of not releasing my seed. My lower abdomen ached and my testicles felt heavy, a classic case of "blue balls."

I soon got over it and got up off Mary; which was easier said that done with her softness mimicking a massive bean bag at this point, it would have probably been easier to roll off her and get up off the floor. As I left, Mary mooed after me, I knew that she wanted me to stat and comfort her. As I saw her trying to get up, I said to her sternly, "No, Mary. You're sick, you need to lie down and get better before you can walk again." Mary complied and promptly collapsed back onto the left side of her chest. You're going to be sick of walking once those hooves clear up, trust me. I thought to myself.

My next stop was the second fattest cow on my farm. Jessica had bloated herself up to 3,378 lbs and I am sure she would have been over three hundred pounds heavier if she hadn't had the Leptin patches stuck on her udder all this last year. Jessica too was lying down, but not totally on her side. She had her forelegs underneath her, invisible due to her bulky chest and brisket, with her belly stretched out towards the door. As I expected, she did her "sensual dance," as I liked to think about it, when I entered her stall. She basically took to wiggling her head, neck and shoulders in such a way as to send her enormous brisket into a maelstrom of flapping folds and wrinkles. Involuntarily, she made hard again instantly as I saw her display. I had realized long ago, and Hollie had written it to me recently, that she strongly desired to take her place at my side and replace both Mary and Hollie. Hollie had told me that she was not blind to the fact that she was able to arouse me faster than anyone else besides Mary and seemed to think that I would favor her instead since Mary was so fat and lazy that she spent most of her time lying down in the barn or in the field and didn't actively seek my attention most of the time. Jessica didn't grasp that the same thing would happen to her if I did take her as my favorite, indeed, Hollie was only just beginning to understand the complexities of my fetish and why all of her family mates were so overweight.

As I stooped down to start unwrapping her right forehoof, I noted that her udder had only recently fused into her burgeoning belly. The nipples all still faced downwards and did not yet face apart. I was glad to see similar progress in Jessica's hoof as in Mary's good one. Again, as in most every case of hoof rot, the infected area was in-between the digits. In fact, Jessica seemed to be a bit further along, the sore had almost closed and was a bright pink rather than a vibrant red. After I had cleaned and rewrapped her injured hoof, I took some time to stroke her upper forelegs and her chest between them; both areas were thick and lumpy with heavy deposits of cellulite. Jessica leaned forward and licked my face. I let her as I continued taking in every inch of her fat sagging skin. She never seemed to have enough, however, and eventually I pushed her head away. I got up and she looked truly hurt; she mooed at me again, but to no avail.

I was horny and unsatisfied as I left the barn. I would have laid down with Mary, but I didn't want her to be moving around and potentially injuring herself on the stools supporting several hundred pounds of her massive paunch. Anyways, the sour smell of pus was a total turn-off. I was actually thinking about taking Jennifer for the first time when Hollie quickly strolled up to me as I meandered about the field. The two newborn calves seemed to be on a two foot tether to their mother as the trailed along behind her, shivering even in this mild weather.

Hollie nuzzled against me and I was glad to feel her warmth against my cold arms and face. She licked my face just once and stared at me. I noticed that she mooed less at me now. She saved several specific tones for different urgent meanings and preferred to write to me. All other times she tried to communicate with her eyes and body language. Right now, I guessed that she was tired of the young ones sucking on her and wanted the comfort of my embrace. I was only too happy to oblige her. She was very fat now by the national standard, but for her size, she was the leanest one on the farm. She weighed only 45 lbs more than Samantha who she towered over. Still I loved her silky smooth hide with just that touch of softness underneath. On her, I found pleasure in being able to feel her thick muscles under a moderate blanket of fat. Her belly was still wide and spherical with a clear definition between her milk filled udder and her belly which still hung higher than it. Her brisket was full and hung well below her chest. She had the makings of a thin waddle under her chin and the skin was loose, but not packed with cellulite. Overall, she was evenly proportioned with her loin even with her tail head and hooks that were broad molehills on either side of her broad hips. Her chest was deep and wide, making a large smooth shelf behind her neck. Barely visible was a broad ridge over her spine. I passed around her, pinching her and feeling how fat she was getting. Her belly had slimed a great deal since the birthing, but there was no waist visible. Her ribs were soundly buried beyond my touch, though I felt many of her large hip bones beneath her curtain of adipose.

I was so stimulated that I didn't care about the chilly air or the presence of the young calves. I came back around to Hollie's head. I stroked her cheeks and asked, "Hollie, would you lie down for me, I want to make love with you." I let my fingers glide down onto her shoulders and she complied, leaning forward and bending her legs underneath her chest and slowly letting her rump down onto the ground. She rested with her hips twisted only slightly to the left, keeping her right leg underneath, but exposing her udder. I stripped off my pants and put them onto of Hollie to keep them out of the snow. I was shivering in just my underwear, but I knew I would be warm all too soon.

Raging with desire, I wished I could simply plunge my dick into her, but it was my responsibility to give pleasure to my partner. After all, she was lying on the cold ground without the benefit of clothing just so that I could satisfy my urges.

I got her started quickly after I had gotten my fist into her vulva. I noticed that insertion was much easier after she had given birth, I just hoped that she wouldn't find my true member that much more unsatisfying once I'd built her towards orgasm. Classically, she huffed and panted as I pounded her contractions. Hollie's heat built up around us and I no longer felt chilled in the cool weather. I rocked her back and forth on her thin layer of fat and built up extra friction. The low rumble in Hollie's chest signaled the coming of her climax. I pulled out and worked her with my manhood. Sweet release came seconds afterwards as I emptied myself into her cavernous vagina.

Minutes later, I found myself lying on top of Hollie's flank as the young heifers nursed off her near my feet. Hollie was uneven and hard in places, not nearly as comfortable as Mary, but still I felt like comforting her. Eventually, Hollie mooed at me while trying to turn her head as much as she could. I didn't recognize the tone. Before I could ask what she had said, Hollie shifted her body and nearly bucked me off. I got off her and she rose, snatched away her udder from her young ones who were lying beside her. She mooed at me again faster and with a higher pitch. I recognized that as "Follow me." As I watched she walked off towards my house.

Once there, she went right for the bookcases that held her learning workbooks and her favorite works of fiction that I let her read. She reached in and grabbed a book with her teeth. On the colorful hard cover, the book read, "Alice in Wonderland." I grinned, "You want me to put this up on the stand so you can read it, Hollie?"

She shook her head. Then she flicked it towards the little ones trailing behind her.

I smiled, "You want me to read it to your children?"

Again she shook her head. She reached the shelved again and pulled out the white board and marker she used to communicate with me. I held the board for her and stuck the marker in her mouth. She wrote slowly and clearly the letters, O, U and R: "Our."

"Our children..." I thought that my heart couldn't love this creature any more, I was wrong. I threw my arms around Hollie and squeezed her tightly. She seemed puzzled, but accepted my affection nonetheless. I sat down on a patio chair and arranged the young heifers before me. Hollie lied down behind them as I began to read, "Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank..." I knew the young cows had no understanding of what I was saying, but it helped immensely that the book was full of pictures. I read for a half an hour before the young cows were obviously fast asleep. Hollie too had lied down and I told her to take a nap herself.

I spent most of the rest of the day inside the house. I spent the time combing through Cathleen and Lauren's genetic codes once again to check for defects. Also, I started creating a lesson plan for them. I hoped that they could pick up new material faster than Hollie with their larger brains.

As I fell asleep that night I turned to the business channel and hoped to see good news about my stocks. It had been a great idea for Mom to buy me stocks after all. It also helped that Mom's stockbroker was very experienced and had already tripled the money I had given him. I gave him a generous 35% of each of my paychecks now, and he projected that I could live off my interest at my current rate of expense before I was 50. That was a great boon since the retirement age has been 74 since 2032. It helped that I hardly spent anything, but I kept an additional savings account. I really wasn't very frugal, my expenses were simply infrequent, but when they came, they were huge (like when I needed to buy the back hoe or when I need additional equipment). Still, I didn't care much for money, The whole point of buying stock, from my point of view, was so that I could spend all of my time lavishing over my loved ones. As soon as I closed my eyes, I pictured Mary in my mind, healthy, fat and bloated beyond all reason. If only reality were so kind.

A week later, the thaw had past and the deep snow banks were already starting to replenish themselves. Jessica had made a full recovery days ago, but I still struggled to return Mary to her prior state of activity. Both of her hooves had healed, but she didn't like to be on her feet more than an hour, and even that time was cut short if I had her walking. I had moved her to the big barn temporarily to rehabilitate her without trudging her through the same snow that had made her lame.

As I stood with her on the green painted concrete, Mary was breathing heavily as we did laps around the enclosure. I wish that swimming would have helped more as I watched her struggle, but the problem was more of the pain in her hooves than of true atrophy. Also, it was psychological, I think that she had grown accustomed to being able to sit and rest without having to work to shift her bulk. I had to constantly tell her that being able to walk was much better than sitting on her butt.

I admit that I was working her hard. Sweat glistened under her fur as I led her along by a thick fold at the base of her neck. Her belly swayed back and forth over two feet in either direction, increasing her effort to move. The insides of her hind legs rubbed against her paunch all the way down to where it dangled just below her ankles. Her belly came down further towards her middle and I guessed it would only take one or two hundred more pounds to make it begin to scrape the surface. Her long back was curved downwards from carrying her two ton body. Her brisket was still small in comparison to the rest of her body, certainly smaller than Jessica's even though she out massed her daughter by over half a ton. Her brisket was no longer peach-like, it had many creases running along its surface and sagged down past her front knees. It bounced from side to side as she walked, sending ripples up the dangling flesh on her lower neck and into her thick jowls. Her long neck was beginning to shorten as it widened into her torso. The flesh behind it and all along her back was soft and very deep. The skin there flowed across her buried spine as her flanks worked to make room for each step. I loved the way her black and white patterns were mobile and stretched tight across her massive frame. Her loin had now formed a visible crease against her thighs and was biding its time before its inevitable rush down her legs and over her tail. By now, her fat clogged udder was forced fully out from between her hind legs. The flesh was thick and firm and I doubted that she would be able to produce milk again. The nipples almost as large as Hollie's though from years of feeding calves to maturity, I doubted that they would shrivel the same way that Bessie's had.

I let go of the roll on her neck and said, "Ok, Mary take a break." My morbidly obese cow dropped heavily onto her oversized belly, her knees not even reaching the ground. I leaned against her as I felt her chest expanding and contracting with every heavy breath. I was so aroused by her handicaps I was tempted to lead her into the life of immobility right there. The only thing that stopped me was the memory of how painful Bessie's life had been towards the end. I still had a great many preparations to make if I intended Mary to be comfortable while wearing a five ton coat of fat.

I thought about the work I was doing of the first of those precautions. I was currently working on a virus that ate fat bodies in cells. It wasn't an uncommon strain that was engineered at Gentech, but I had a far grander plan for it. If I could successfully program it to feed specifically off the fat bodies within bovine liver cells, none of my family need ever worry about the debilitating long terms effects of Fatty Liver. I was also working on a diet formula that would be healthy for a ruminant's digestive tract. I needed to make sure that the bacteria in her gut were not harmed, but at the same time, eliminate her need to regurgitate and rechew her food. I had limited success with Bessie, but her autopsy showed me that before she had died, she had already developed a displaced abomasum and her rumen was nearly devoid of her important cellulose eating bacteria. Far more problems lay ahead of me as Mary grew fatter including what to do about her lungs and oxygen levels. If only there was a way to make them more effective or get more oxygen into her blood. I thought absently.

After fifteen minutes, I told Mary to get up and she hoisted herself up once more, her udder and brisket swinging wildly. I sighed and wiped sweat from my brow that was not from the workout and started again with Mary.

* * *

In August of 2039, I found myself with two of the brightest cows I had yet taught. Teaching Cathleen and Lauren was almost like teaching little humans. They grasped easily the alphabet and numbers. They had learned in their first seven months, what I had been teaching Hollie for a year after I introduced her paints. Both of the young ones picked up their mother's skill and she was an extremely able teacher herself. More than simple rules to live on the farm, she taught them her side of what I was showing them. I think that they learned much more quickly having someone there that thy could more easily identify with.

Hollie was no slouch either, despite being over four months along with a set of triplets, she wanted me to continue her lessons in English and always wanted new books to read. She grew fond of fantasy, especially the kind where non-human characters were involved. A regular "bookaholic," she sported an eighth grade reading level now and showed little signs of slowing down. Over a month ago, however, she told me flat out that she didn't care for math and wanted nothing more to do with it. "It doesn't make any sense," she had written down, "the numbers and things, I just don't like them." I had finally relented to the satisfaction of all of us.

This hot summer day, I was lying atop Mary who was hiding from the hot August sun. Over nine pounds a week had brought her up to 4,652 pounds this spring and summer. She has been in BCS 15 for about three weeks now. The point of flesh that had drooped to the ground back in July had spread and blossomed into a thin strip of flesh that she could no longer remove from the earth.

As I rose and fell with the steady breaths of my sleeping lover, I found myself very relaxed. I was naked, having spent the last hour pleasuring my mammoth queen of excess. I was actually in the "crook" where her flesh fell from her chest into a wide, level plain that stretched past her feet. I pressed my head against her chest and closed my eyes, I listened intently to the steady throbbing of her heart. I knew the proper rhythm down to the millisecond and she was only doing five more beats a minute than she should have if she was 1500 pounds. A remarkable success, if I do say so myself. I thought. Soon though, the pleasant heat and the constant rhythms of her breathing and her heart over took me and consciousness fled from my mind.

I was awoken by moisture on my right cheek. Before I realized what it was, Mary's tongue struck me again and she bellowed with a loud moo. I held my hand to my ear as I had been right next to her when she had mooed. She nudged me with her nose and I finally got the hint that she wanted me off her. I was actually glad that Mary took the time to wake me up as I gathered my cloths and watched her slow, tiring ritual of getting up. Bessie had sometimes simply thrown me off and almost trampled me once in the late stages of her mobile obesity.

Similar to Bessie, Mary brought all of her legs underneath her belly first and took time to be sure of her footing before getting up. Compared to Bessie on the day I brought her to the big barn, Mary was positively light on her feet. The cellulite on her neck and her brisket jiggled and shook as she rose abruptly. She turned and exited the stall door, her right flank scraped against the wooden gate as she did. I realized then that she was simply too fat for this stall now, even if she could walk. Her flanks were far too wide now, and I didn't want her scraping them against the post or anything else in the barn.

Her slow gait made me flush as I saw her trudging her way out into the field. She kept three feet on the ground at all times. She gently swayed her belly once every one and a half seconds, taking a step with a hind leg each time as it reached its climax. Her front legs worked elegantly with the motion of her belly as it traveled from the extreme on her left to the extreme on her right. Surprisingly, at the very highest points of her swaying gait, her belly left the floor. I followed just behind her at barely half my walking speed, my hand on her withers and well behind her to keep from being knocked down by over a ton of swinging flesh.

One hundred feet from the barn, her breathing grew heavier and she stopped. I jumped back as she emptied her bowls and bladder. Normally, she would have walked to the edges on my land near the fence, but I didn't blame her in the slightest for not being willing to walk that far in her state. From the side, I took in the sight of her black and white pattern reaching all the way to the ground. In July, I had to get on my belly to see that she had obtained the main criterion from BCS 15, but as I stood, even in the red glow of late afternoon, it was very clear that her belly contacted the ground. I patted Mary's fat neck and ran my hands down her flank that expanded behind me. I hugged her around her neck, my arms not able to encompass even its girth anymore. I whispered in her ear, "I'll always be there for you, Mary."

* * *

The Spring of '40 held a massive triumph for me. Over a year of work had culminated in the creation of my cure for fatty liver. The virus was non-harmful in every way and specifically targeted the fat deposits in the liver.

It was March 28, and I loaded up my "vaccination" into the large, air powered syringe. Still early in the day, I saw the sun rising in the distance as I rose from my lab like a zombie from its crypt. I hadn't slept in nearly two days, but I didn't feel the need at all I was far too excited. Really, this came at just the right time for Mary, she was almost ready to remain permanently in the big barn. The main barn's doors were still closed as its sleepy occupants didn't usually rise until well after 8:00. Moving Mary into the big barn had proven to be a good choice as she was just wide enough to squeeze through the wide gate of her stall now and wouldn't have had room to sway her belly at all.

I slid the double doors open and revealed Mary sleeping on a bed of straw near the door. I think now that a goal of 5,000 was pushing even Mary's abilities. She had come close though. She had mastered BCS 15 and somehow still found the strength to lift her massive frame. At 4,928 lbs, the all of the space between her legs was on the floor; her flanks even expanded a bit more to come in front of her hind legs at the widest point on the ground. She was so fat that she managed to sway her flanks while the fat that flooded onto the ground remained immobile. Mary had to literally drag herself wherever she needed to go, which happened less than once every two days at this point. She rested on her belly, I think she preferred this position now since her fat offered support and it had to be exhausting trying to roll over.

I had to walk around her massive flank to get to her head, the walk was getting longer and I enjoyed every additional step I had to take to encompass her. Mary lifted her head off of her brisket and greeted me in the typical fashion. I nuzzled her back and took the time to search for a vein. I told Mary, "This is going to sting, but it's going to keep you from getting sick." Mary knew what a shot was and wasn't frightened in the least. I myself was excited. The serum I held in my hand would ensure that Mary got even fatter than Bessie had been and remained far healthier. I plunged the long needle into the thick flesh on her neck. Mary winced but didn't make a sound. The syringe hissed slightly as the drug was administrated. As long as she was alive now, she would be infected with my virus. Once the fat levels in her liver were at healthy levels the virus would lay dormant in her bloodstream until the fat built up again. It was my hope that Mary would be spared many debilitating conditions that arose from having a weak liver and dirty blood.

Just for kicks, I decided to see how Mary would look in the lift. I grabbed the remote from its holster near the door and wiped the thick dust from its surface. I hope the components still work... I thought. My fear proved to be unfounded as I brought the crane back to life with a simple push of a button.

Once the fabric was in place, I whistled to Mary. I waved my hands in a strong gesture for her to come to me. Mary rolled her eyes and sighed. I thought that she wasn't going to come as she remained still for over a minute. Finally, she began to widen her stance. Her front legs were invisible underneath her thick chest fat and brisket and she braced her hind legs for the heavy load they were about to endure. Trembling with the force it took, she got shakily to her hooves. Her flesh was clearly still resting on the ground from between her front legs down to her udder. She grunted as she forced her right front leg forward. She grunted again as she swayed her belly to the right to get her left hind leg forward several inches. There was no clear pattern as she came towards me, she was simply forcing her fat engorged body any way she could to keep moving. After the first few steps, she was winded. Halfway towards me (less than a quarter of the length of the barn since I was in the center), she was panting heavily. Her eyelids were fluttering as she dragged her gut along the floor. Mary finally collapsed onto her belly about ten feet shy of the harness.

I went to her and comforted her. Throwing an arm around her neck, I whispered to her, "Good thing I moved you in here, huh?" She managed to lick my face in between her heavy breaths.

Needless to say, that was the beginning of the immobile life for Mary. She took to the harness with incredible speed. Once I showed her what it was for, she was perfectly comfortable in it within the hour. Since Mary was not a "grain-aholic," she enjoyed round the clock access to both hay and grain stuffs. She never managed Bessie's appetite, however. Her gains shot up to over 12 pounds week, but Bessie had been pulling 18+ in a similar environment. Mary's long legs were well suited to the tarp I used to suspend her. I managed to bring her gut almost halfway up to her hock the first day.

Water aerobics were new for Mary. That took much longer for her to get used to since the deepest water she had previously experienced was the shallow stream that ran through my property.

I sat on the ridge of the pool in my trucks, remote in hand. I lowered the tarp down to her hooves and gestured for her to walk down the ramp and into the pool. Unfortunately for me, she refused to budge. "Come on, Mary." I said, "It's just a little water." I jumped into the pool to demonstrate for her, but when I surfaced, Mary remained at the top of the ramp into the pool. I sighed, I had no idea why she was so frightened of the pool. Then an idea struck me.

I brought the tarp, and her belly, back up past her ankles so she could walk easier and left the barn. I had only to search for a few minutes before I found the one person who could help me with Mary's fear of the pool.

When I returned, Mary was helping herself to the hay bin. Hollie followed close behind me while I carried her white board and marker. Mary walked over to us, her massive flanks supported by the heavy tarp and cable. I continued walking past her, though and towards the pool. Once again Mary stopped, however, this time she didn't even cross onto the tiles that separated the main living area from the pool. I asked Hollie, "Can you tell me why she won't get in the pool?"

Hollie turned back and took a long look at Mary. She sighed and mooed at her mother. Mary didn't make any noise, but she shuffled her hooves and continued looking anxiously at the water. I thought I heard some sort of quiet groan or rumble from deep in her chest, though. Hollie turned back to me and motioned for the marker. I placed it in her mouth and held the board her while she wrote. When I flipped it around I saw that she had written, "She's afraid of drowning. She thinks she'll sink."

"Can you tell her that she won't drown? Or can you show her? I got in the pool, but she wouldn't follow me."

Instead of going to Mary, however, Hollie gestured for the board again. I wiped it clean and held it for her once more.

The board read, "Why do you want her in the pool?"

I was surprised at her questioning of my motives. I said, "Well, so she can get some exercise. She's getting too heavy to walk now."

"She's getting too fat. Why don't you feed her less?"

I was dumbstruck. This was the last question I expected and I wasn't prepared t defend my views, least of all from one of my cows. I stammered, "Well... uhhh... Mary is a lot more beautiful to me this way, that's all. Can we talk about this later?"

Hollie rolled her eyes at me and nodded. She turned back to Mary and mooed loudly at her. When Mary remained still, Hollie walked down the ramp and into the pool herself. I was still rather befuddled and didn't think to follow Hollie until she mooed at me herself. With both of us in the pool and obviously not drowning, Mary finally took her first steps into the pool. I lowered the tarp and Mary was able to float out into the water. She was very nervous, but she soon figured out to reach her legs to the bottom of the pool to move. The water made her fat filled flanks spread out near the surface in a way that wouldn't have been possible on land. Mary soon found that she enjoyed the water and strayed into the deeper end with both Hollie and me. I loved splashing both of my girls and rocking Mary like a giant barge. Her short coat smoothed against her skin and I relished feeling the exact contour of her skin over her massive curves.

My hands and toes were wrinkled by the time I got out, Hollie following close behind. Mary seemed to want to stay, but she didn't want to be left alone in the pool. It took time and a lot of coordination on both her and my parts to get her back into the harness in the shallow loading area. I turned up the heat in the barn and let her air dry, knowing that I would need to wash out the chlorine in her fur later tonight.

I lingered around Mary, feeling and caressing her flab. I received a sharp jab from Hollie's snout, however, and knew that I couldn't escape explaining the whole situation to her anymore.

A few minutes later, we sat together under the porch, I in a chair and Hollie standing, bringing her head to eye level with me. I heaved a sigh as I started my explanation/confession, "Hollie, you understand that you are different from other cows don't you? You've seen them on TV and you know how Jennifer is."

Hollie nodded.

"Well... It's more than just your minds that I've changed. I've changed a lot of how your body works too, on the inside...

"Do you remember how it feels when you make love with me, and that time with Matthew? Remember how good it felt?"

Hollie looked away for a moment as though embarrassed, then she nodded again.

"That's how I feel when I see Mary the way she is. When I touch her, feel her luscious softness, it... electrifies me. The whole reason that Mary is here, you are here, any of this," I gestured wildly with my arms, "is here is so that I can be happy and have a family to love and care for."

Hollie looked down at the floor; I could tell she was thinking about the things I've told her. I held up the board again when she grabbed the marker from the table next to me.

When I flipped it over, the board read, "But Mom is so fat. I love her too, I don't want her to die."

All of the technical precautions I had taken to ensure Mary's health ran through my mind, but I knew Hollie wouldn't be able to understand any of it. I said, "Hollie, I have all the supplies I need to keep Mary healthy right here. I've planned it out and learned a lot since Bessie died. I can keep her alive and healthy for many, many more years, no matter how fat she gets."

A few moments passed as Hollie scribbled on the board again. It read. "But when will you stop?"

For the second time today, I was confronted with a question I wasn't prepared for and, indeed, didn't want to answer. When would I stop? I wondered. All I've been thinking of these past months is getting Mary set to take off where Bessie left off. All I've been thinking about as I laid myself on my bed each night is Mary at 12,000 lbs, 15,000, 20,000 and more, and the possibility of another BCS level which I had no clue what would look like. I didn't think I would ever be satisfied, No matter how heavy she was, she could always be a pound heavier. Hollie snuffled and shifted her weight back and forth as I thought of a suitable answer. Finally I decided to simply share the truth, "Hollie, I really don't know. I want her to be as fat as she can possibly be and I don't think I can stop until..." I fumbled with my words. I didn't want to tell one of my most beloved family members that I wasn't going to stop until Mary was dead. "...Until Mary is too unhealthy to gain anymore. Then I'll stop." I lied.

Hollie didn't seem very satisfied with my answer. As the seconds ticked away, I was very glad that she hadn't been around to seen how crippled and sick Bessie's massive weight had made her late in life.

I spoke again, "I'll tell you what, I'll make you a promise."

Hollie lifted her ears and brought her head back up to eye level.

"You go and see your mom everyday and make sure she's happy. If she wants to loose weight then I can put her on a diet so she can loose some weight."

Hollie nodded and mooed happily.

After the talk, Hollie strode back into the field to feed her little ones. I felt guilty about making Hollie a promise that I knew I could easily manipulate when push came to shove. All it would take was the Leptin destroying serum I used on Bessie to ensure that Mary would not agree to any sort of diet. Still, I thought, Hollie is like a child mentally. I suppose all parents need to placate their children at some point or another.

Later that year, as Hollie's next heat loomed ever closer, I decided that I was finally going to switch to natural fertilization for her. The only problem lay in the fact that Matthew lacked the new genes that I had placed into Cathleen and Lauren. There was only one way to fix the problem as far as I could tell, save birthing a new bull. There was no way to simple change the genes that Matthew created in his sperm. They were generated from his own body and viruses to change sperm would only change that individual sperm, and new ones were created by the millions. While it would have been possible to give him an injection directly into the scrotum every time he was about to have inter course, it simple wasn't practical, even with Matthew's docility.

Instead, I devised a highly dense container of viral material in my lab. It was the size of one of Mattew's testicles and I programmed a simple microchip to release a certain amount of the virus in response to hormones that supersede ejaculation. The viruses would mix with his ejaculate and by the time they reached the egg, all of them should infected. The device required one small sacrifice on Matthew's part, but I was sure he wouldn't mind if it meant free access to Hollie come spring.

The surgery was simple and I performed it in Matthew's shed. After putting him to sleep, at no small expense in anesthetic, I took out my scalpel. Despite my disgust with Matthew's male anatomy, I pushed through the procedure with the attitude of a surgeon. Twenty minutes later, Matthew's left testicle lay in a tin dish beside my knee and my device was in its place. I sewed Matthew up, not at all envious of the bull upon awakening.

That spring I had a long talk with Hollie. We were on my patio; she lay at my right hand, legs folded underneath her "slight" 1600 lb frame. Feeding Lauren and Cathleen to maturity had slimmed her greatly, leaving a great deal of loose skin to cover her muscular frame. More than simply lactating, though, I thought that, after seeing the result of Mary's gluttony, Hollie imposed a diet on herself to maintain her figure. I hadn't brought up the matter with her yet, but I seriously doubted that Hollie would ever willingly reside in the Big Barn.

"Hollie," I said after enjoying each other's presence for some minutes, "You've done a great job raising Lauren and Cathleen. They're both so big and healthy." Hollie beamed, her expression unmistakable. I took a long gander into her hazel eyes, soft and moist but with obvious intelligence. "Hollie, I'm just going to say it. I want you to have some more calves. Quite a few more actually, but only if you're all right with it. It's you're body, if your tired of being pregnant and nursing, I'll understand." With a twinkle in her eye, Hollie immediately rose on her fore-hooves and turned, licking my face in her style of consent and affection. I laughed and nuzzled back, not wiping the slime from my face until Hollie fell back onto her knees.

Another few moments passed before I asked, "Hollie, you know that me and you can't physically have children right? Matthew is the blood father of Cathleen and Lauren." Hollie shook her snout and gestured to her white board and marker with a flick of her muzzle. With marker in mouth, Hollie wrote, "You are the father anyways." Despite her answer, I could read in her eyes that she understood the difference. "When you come into heat this spring, I need you to let Matthew do his thing. We can still make love, but you need to let him mount and not bite or kick." Hollie's response was less enthusiastic, but still positive. I gave her a great hug about her neck. She laid back on her side and let me belly rub her until her calves came calling.

May 14, 2043:

For the fourth time this week, I found myself waking from a long night spent atop my new goddess of excess. Despite weighing 184 lbs, I sank deeply into her soft conforming flesh. The steady rise and fall of her chest that formed a great hill beside me was hypnotic; I was gently rocked all night long as I laid in the crook under her ribcage. As far as I could reach in every direction, there was nothing but her warm, soft flesh beneath her smooth, coat of pink and graying black. I found myself satisfied, more sure now that I was where I belonged. Mary slept on and I thought about how much a better feedee she had made than Bessie.

At this stage in her life, Bessie had been on her downward spiral of health for some time. She had had a tendency of becoming breathless simply by walking for a few minutes, and often for no visible reason at all. She also had developed advanced fatty liver that set her up for diabetes later in life which predisposed her to the infections that eventually killed her.

I had stopped that in the bud with Mary. But more than that, she was simply a lot stronger and healthier than Bessie had been. It was tiring for her to move her bulk now, but when she did, she didn't have to struggle desperately. I have seen one brief attack of panting with her so far (after a particularly long workout in the pool), so I knew that she would need supplemental oxygen soon. As far as her quality of life was concerned, she had it much better off than Bessie. Mary had a "slim" neck and brisket. Most of her weight landed in the massive warehouse of fat between her legs and under her chest. Her back and loin was also much heavier than Bessie's. Not to say that she wasn't experiencing a much greater handicap even than Jessica. Mary's brisket definitely stopped her from reaching the ground and she also had fairly limited mobility in her neck, but she coped very well with her situation.

I yawned and stretched, rolling in her short coat and relishing in her heat all around me. Quickly, I became aroused; it seemed as though Mary increased my sex drive to new heights, I couldn't get enough of her. I flipped over on my belly, rubbing my crotch on the flat, smooth, yielding skin under me. My excitement built and I released readily. Mary yawned and stirred slightly from my activities, but I had pleasured myself twice more before she had fully awoken.

She yawned massively and her flesh quaked as she stretched her limbs. She closed her chops and placed her head back on a thick roll of fat from her neck. Carefully, I crawled hands and knees up onto her chest and cuddled her neck. She revived and licked me energetically in a display that was becoming a rarity as her energy levels plummeted. I longed to stay with her, but there was a lot to do as soon as my disabled lover woke. As she was on her side, I slid down the underside of her bloated neck and planted my feet on the ground. I flexed my bare toes on the cool, slick fabric that was my only means of transporting Mary now. Like every morning, I turned to Mary and asked, "Mary, can you roll on your belly?" I was perfectly able to roll her myself with the lift, but I felt it was important to get Mary to do any sort of physical activity of which she was still capable.

Mary squinted her eyes and took a deep breath in her imitation of a grimace. She came through for me again, however, in this monumental, yet daily challenge for her. Unlike Bessie had been, Mary did not flail wildly about in an effort to tip onto her feet. She remained calm and worked hard, tipping and rocking her body in a measured fashion. Still, it was a great challenge to move her three ton body in any way. The wide plain of her belly that had lain spread out across the floor all night and most of yesterday was now upset by massive waves as she rocked her body and was slowly being bunched up. Getting up for Mary was not simply rotating herself, she had to twist her massively heavy body while simultaneously lifting herself up onto her belly and chest, no simple task considering her <13> foot wide shoulders and even wider flanks. Mary panted and grunted against the incredible strain imposed on her by her own body. She fell back on her side, her brow shining with her sweat. As I was about to encourage her to try again, she did so of her own accord. After five minutes, she finally breached her tipping point and her fat flowed and carried her the rest of the way onto her feet.

Mary was utterly spent after the whole experience. Her tongue lolled and dripped as she panted, heaving her mighty flanks to catch her breath. As Mary took the next few minutes to calm down, I went and got my hygiene supplies for her out of the closet on the other side of the barn.

When I returned, I set to work, cleaning, grooming, clipping, and brushing my lover. I didn't bother with clothes the entire time, in fact, I hardly bothered with them at all in the summer. I had grown comfortable with my nudity over the years, indeed, Hollie had no idea why I even bothered with them in the first place. My daily chores were similar to what they had been with Bessie but not as health oriented nor as in depth. Mary had yet to develop bedsores and inside her three ton coat of fat, she was as healthy as you could ask a cow to be. I did, however, begin to clip her hooves regularly.

Mary's hind legs were mostly paralyzed at this point by her paunch. She could put them completely on the ground by fully extending her legs but she couldn't do much with them. More and more often I saw Mary keep her hind legs tucked up as her belly was close to stealing them away from the ground forever. She kept her fore hooves on the ground in a bowlegged fashion. They were turned out from the depth and width of her chest and hidden from sight from her front by her sagging brisket. I liked the fact that her forelegs were thick with muscle and her hooves were broad. Unlike the pitiful twigs Bessie's limbs appeared to be later in life, Mary pulled off a look of a functional creature; similar to the difference between the 500 lb man in a hospital and a 500 lb sumo wrestler.

Mary knew by now to hold her morning ablutions until I was able to set up a bucket at her rear end. There was only a couple inches left between her anus and vulva and the wide expanse of fat that had forced its way out from between her hind legs. I placed an old towel directly underneath and got the bucket as far up as I could. The main problem was that the bucket couldn't be too deep or the fat shelf under her tail would keep it horizontal and everything would spill out. However, Mary's ample diet ensured that there was not a lack of waste products so the bucket had to be deep enough to hold it all. I was able to get along well enough by tying the upper rim of the bucket to Mary's tail and telling her to hold it still. I think that Mary appreciated having something to do while I went about the rest of the upkeep her body needed.

Most of what Mary required was simple grooming. I had a great many products for use on her coat and skin. Of course everything got more complicated when she was this obese. Mary didn't simply have "dry skin" or an "oily coat." Great swaths of her skin could need a certain kind of care. I ran my hand to and fro across Mary's right flank that had spent the night in constant contact with the ground, feeling the texture of her coat and the consistency of her skin. As always, it was somewhat oily from a lack of air and I even detected some minor dandruff. Too hefty for even the largest of stall showers, Mary had the luxury of sponge baths at least once every two days, usually daily. I labored for a couple hours, entire bottles of product disappearing into titanic sheets of her hide that could rival a textile mill. To reach her furthest points, I made heavy use of a step ladder to get at her high back and shoulders. Incredibly minor chores compared to the care of her skin included bushing her teeth, clipping her hooves, as well as cleaning her nostrils and ears.

After she was bathed, dried and properly moisturized, I brushed her coat excessively. Her short hair really didn't require the sort of attention that I paid to it, but I wanted the stimulation for Mary. I remembered that nerve cells didn't grow or replace themselves (unless properly motivated) so naturally, the ones she was born with on her skin were the only ones she had even as her skin expanded and grew. I deduced that Mary's ability to sense touch slowly diminished as her skin expanded in all directions (and confirmed regularly as Mary often didn't respond, even as a reflex, to gentle caresses on her engorged flanks). I hoped to stimulate them a bit by brushing hard. I enjoyed it excessively when an isolated region of her skin tightened and quivered of its on accord as I passed over it with my brush. It was important to keep her senses as much in tact as possible. For if she got as fat as I wanted her to be, she would be both mechanically blind and deaf, leaving only smell and touch as my means of interacting with her.

However, her future was far from mind as I worked and slaved upon my lavish goddess. As much as I could, I lived in the moment when I was with Mary. I didn't care how fast she was or had been gaining in the past. I didn't try to improve on old "scores." Mary was built to gain, just as I designed her and I wanted her to go at her own pace. Likewise, I would deal with the problems as they arose, or rather hints of problems. The slightest mineral imbalance in her urine sent me scurrying back to my lab to analyze all of the possible meanings. Almost all cases were false alarms, but I never tired of them, each built upon the other and eased my belief in her health.

Halfway through the grooming, Mary sounded a low moo and I understood that I had become so wrapped up in caring for her hide that I forgot the most important element of her morning routine (at least to her) for the second time this week. I apologized to her face and tickled her under her chin, which was mostly devoured by the six pound sac of flesh that her wattle had become. I went back towards the pool to the supply closet, taking the full bucket and moistened towel with me. Mary wasn't done with only one bucket due to the ample portions she eagerly ingested, but she knew to stop when I untied her tail. I heaved a sigh of relief as the ease of cleaning up as I thought back to the messy days I had with Bessie later in her life.

I brought a small steel cart back to Mary loaded with two bales of hay and alfalfa mix, as well as an empty bucket and a fresh towel. I reset the bucket knowing that I'd have to change it at least twice more before she was done. The top basket of the cart was adjustable in height and perfectly suited for Mary's head. The legs of the cart were only connected on the shorter sides, so I wheeled it sideways to get around most of Mary's expansive brisket. The shapeless, fuzzy flesh was well under the basket and I sidestepped to avoid tripping on it. I shoved the basket forward, hard, so that it pinched both left and right sides of Mary's fattened "fore-chest" as I called it. I knew it was uncomfortable, but the tray now held the food well under her chin so she was free to swallow as much as she pleased.

As a ruminant, and a ruminant who was alone and bored in the afternoons and evenings, Mary inhaled six 20 lb bales of hay to fill her rumen and chew later. Despite the massive volume of the food she received in the morning, Rodney relished in the thought that she actually received more than double the calories in the evenings and throughout the day as she free fed.

Rodney had to force himself to leave Mary this morning after he was done, leaving the care of her belly for this evening. He hugged her and squeezed her and cupped her sagging jowls in his hands, all the while receiving licks of affection from his lover. After clearing all of the morning's supplies out of the way, Rodney raised Mary's supporting tarp up just off the ground so she could move about the barn. Reluctantly, Rodney put on his cloths and headed outside, the last thing he looked at in the barn was her bright blue eyes.

The mornings outside the barn were also routine and my depression at leaving the sight of my love dissipated quickly as I greeted for the other members of my family. After making some early morning salutations out of sheer politeness, I escaped to the house to quickly throw together an early lunch as my first meal of the day. The barn was my first stop, and all throughout my chores, I was dogged by not a few of my quite extensive family.

Hollie had proven to be incredibly fertile, carrying twins each year since I altered Matthew. I attributed her success to her strong, passionate personality as well as a trim waistline as she kept herself from bloating with, no doubt, tremendous will power. Her lowest point before she had consented to another pregnancy had been a mere 1,460 lbs, which was downright thin on her stocky, muscular frame. I remembered arguing with her deep in the winter to at least break 1,550 before mating. I even had to bring out my sources and swear on my medical license that I was speaking the truth for the calves own good and not my desire to see her larger. After that I had no doubt that Hollie was no longer a child, more like an ignorant (but eager to learn) adult. Her recalcitrance was also a heavy stone for me to swallow as well. She fought against every predisposition to obesity that I gave her body, she must abhor the thought of becoming her mother, whom I had (it seemed) only just gotten to point where I begin my fantasies.

Despite heavily questioning whatever I did now on the farm, she was definitely interested in raising more children. She was immensely proud of them and enjoyed teaching them everything she had learned. Against all of my expectations, a recent ultrasound of her growing belly had revealed that she was now two months in carrying a remarkable set of quintuplets. She was just as flabbergasted as I when I gave her the news. Only since then has she shelved her aversions to obesity and indulged herself to feed the veritable litter growing inside her. Her frequent and heavy hunger pangs were no doubt the reason why she wasn't with my entourage as I tidied up the barn.

I changed beds of hay, refilled each stall's water bowl, and observed that the miniature grain silo that fed the group feeding trough was half empty despite my filling it only two days ago. The young calves danced at my feet, chasing each other or raising their large eyes at me for a pat on their head. I was thankful for only one bull out of the four especially now that I didn't plant the sexes myself now. The young lad's name was James. His litter mate was named Denise and his older sisters were called Katherine and Rachel. I almost thought that I was getting into more than I could handle with these rambunctious kids as well as four more on the way. I'll have more than doubled the barn's previous population when Hollie gives birth.

Space was tight in the barn nowadays, all of the twelve stalls were finally filled; everyone fit only with James and Denise sharing a stall. I didn't exactly know what I was going to do about space when the new calves came, but there would undoubtedly be sacrifices to be made.

When the barn was tidy, I made a note in my personal organizer to start refilling the food silo more often before I set about the more grueling task of caring for the inhabitants of my farm. While in no way as difficult (or detailed) as Mary's inspections were, each cow had their own needs that had to specifically be looked after, usually in the form of their prescribed Leptin patches. I started with those nearest me.

Each of the young calves I checked only cursorily, feeling lymph nodes, bone structure, listening to their hearts and lungs for the most part. While I didn't bother this morning, at least once a week, I took stool samples from everyone and checked them together in my laboratory; I also checked James regularly to ensure that his testicles were dropping properly.

After that small chore, I quickly found Cathleen and Lauren mooing quietly to each other while flicking their tails and nodding their heads deliberately right outside the barn. It hadn't taken me long to figure out that Hollie and her two calves had developed a true language early on in their lives. As far as I could tell, and Hollie explain, it was derived from the cow noises and body language that was built into them by instinct and structured with grammar stolen from English (courtesy of Hollie herself). I thought it was brilliant even as I still struggled to learn it after a year seeing them do it; though in my defense the three girls were constantly building, adding and revising it. I couldn't accurately judge the body language when they weren't facing me so much of their conversation was lost to me. I did however catch Hollie's name before I came upon the girls.

Both girls were well shaped and muscled and if I hadn't designed them myself, I'd have said they were identical twins. It was not at all that their markings were the same (for Lauren was heavily black with small white patches clustered on her right shoulder and flank, left thigh and face while Cathleen had almost regular broad white stripes staring with a pearl collar on her neck and ending with a white poofy tail), it was their postures and eerily similar body language that screamed of a deep sisterhood. Though only three years old, their minds had aged as quickly as their bovine bodies bringing them to a mindset reminiscent of pre-adolescence. "Doin' fine today, girls?" I greeted heartily.

Both of them nodded and bared their teeth in their hilarious imitations of smiles.

I stifled a chuckle and said, "Let me check you two out real quick then."

I knew that they tired of my near daily inspections as I felt their throats, pressed my ear against their chests, squeezed their utters and pulled open the lips of their vulvas. Both were virgins despite having passed their second heats (within a day of each other's) early last winter. Of course it was under my orders as I allowed only Hollie to breed. It took only a brief conjoined assault of bites and kicks to convince laid back Matthew that they weren't worth the effort. Eating together, playing together and sleeping together had brought out nearly identical physiques in each of them. Both were quite heavy by the industry standard, but much lighter than Hollie had been at their ages at about 1,710 lbs each. The primary difference between them was Lauren's substantially larger utter. Still miniscule by the industry standards, she bolstered four more inches of depth and at least half a foot more in diameter than her sister.

As far as intelligence was concerned, the two were a huge step forward. And, I thought, probably the last. Where Mary had failed in the logical and left brain skills, the sisters exceeded. They had mastered arithmetic and were deep into the secrets of beginning Algebra. They inherited their mother's love for books, also, though they were slower than she still and obviously much less well read. As I taught them and read to them, I think I came closest to what I would ever have to a traditional family; especially on Christmas.

My two fully grown, and yet still very young daughters easily proved their health to me in a matter of minutes. As I finished, Cathleen flicked her tail at me as if to shoo me off and I responded with a hard slap on her loin that set her moderate reserves aquiver. She looked as me indigently and stalked off to graze with her sister. I gave a great hoot and laughed loud enough so I'd be sure she'd hear me.

While Hollie still nowhere in sight, I went to a small group of grazers away east of the house which contained Jessica, Kristy, Samantha and Matthew. Jessica, as always, was the first to catch my eye despite being farthest away in the little herd. The dosage of leptin that I originally prescribed her proved to not be enough to fully curb her growth for she had gained well over 300 lbs over the intervening years. I kept meaning to give her more, but somehow I always became distracted and ended up giving her one out of the batch my lab fabricated en masse. Still I wondered about why she was so insistent on over eating. Hollie was still of the opinion that Jessica was trying to usurp her and Marry by becoming more attractive than them. That still didn't stop me from admiring her form.

Jessica started flaunting herself the moment she saw me. Her head had been buried deeply in her own brisket to just get at the longest of grass stalks. She lifted it and outstretched her neck to begin swaying her blubber as one would a curtain. Her folds flapped as the skin transferred the waves starting at her neck and running quickly down nearly to the ground where the pebbled and wrinkled brisket wiggled wildly about. She bellowed at me, certainly knowing I enjoyed the fine quivering of her fat neck even as she seemed to say to me, "You like?"

I stiffened involuntarily, but I really didn't care anymore, neither Hollie nor Mary expected me to be monogamous. The lion's share of Jessica's weight still resided in her forequarters, particularly her excellently sculpted brisket. Jessica had no need to fear her belly rubbing the ground anytime soon as her chest would beat it to the punch. It was so deep and wide that it had devoured her upper forelegs early, sagging so much that it left less than half of her lower forelegs visible to the eye. the bottom line of her frame was roughly horizontal, running barely three inches up to her belly and utter (which had long been absorbed into her gut and filled with thick fatty tissue). For some reason, her fat stores on her body appeared to me to be like a thick shaggy coat of fur rather than a built-in obesity.

For all her efforts, Jessica was suffering at the hands of her own excessive weight. She had no heart troubles as of yet, though if any of my cows did, she would. Jessica seemed to have the right (or rather) disposition in hormone levels, a relic from Bessie's genetic heritage, as well as a chest (and windpipes) drowning in fat. She often developed severe rashes on her buried forelegs which she had to move frequently to bend down and get at the grass. Giraffe-like she had to spread her buried forelegs apart to simple lower her head to tera firma. She grew winded after short walks, but couldn't even lie down if she wanted to still tear up turf due to the expansiveness of her collar of adipose. She was quite lethargic and I wondered if she was suffering from some sort of sleep apnea, but I didn't have any solid proof that she was.

I walked forward, between Kristy and Matthew, towards Jessica to finger and caress her with my checkup. I took a whole fifteen minutes with her. I stuffed my hand far up into her neck fat, deep enough to bruise and felt for a pulse. I ran my fingers down the trim of her fatty wattle and onto her brisket. I wished for some way to allow her to grow the way she wanted to and still care for her. All the time she kissed and nuzzled me, more than once stuffing her snout into my crotch and breathing deeply of my aroused masculine scent. Her utter was firm and thick with fat before having ever been used. If she were to somehow become pregnant, I doubted she could provide more than a few cups for her young daily. Her thick thighs created a massive rear on which her short tail seemed more decorative than functional. She took a deep, rasping breath as I fingered her deeply, enjoying now the scent that covered my fingers. At the end of my inspection she seemed healthy as could be expected, there were things that could be done, but they were mostly cosmetic, as long as she could move about, breathe and keep her heart beating, I was fine.

Both Kristy and Samantha now boasted small green leptin patches affixed to the exposed pink flesh of their utters. Both were over ton, weighing in at 2,268 lbs and 2,912 lbs respectively. Both of them were quite bloated. Samantha, with her small frame managed a relative gut size only slightly less than equal to her sister, despite the fact that she had over 600 lbs on her. The polar opposite of Jessica's frame, Kristy was also prone to leg rashes, but on the insides of her thighs. Today, I changed a bloodied bandage on Kristy's right thigh. The rash was deep inside her leg and had become infected since it was left out of sight. Only when it began to hobble Kristy did I at last discover it. The bandage was impossible to change while Kristy was standing; the pressure was simply too great. I had long ago taught her several maneuvering commands and I told her now to roll onto her left flank. She eased herself down gently, her belly touching down first and spreading out as she put more weight onto the ground. The last few inches were a sort of flop as her legs gave out. To my eyes, she rolled over without any effort at all, but I supposed my judgment had been tempered by the sight of Mary's daily struggle for the last couple years. I moved in from her rear as her belly surged out from under her. I knelt and lifted her leg, exposed the broad, red-stained white bandage over the majority of her inner thigh. I noted that the blood was dull and rust colored, a good improvement over the pale and stinking blood from last week

The skin around the edges of the wound were raw and red, all of the hair had long since been rubbed away. The real issue was that the skin too had been grinded away over a large swath of skin. The open tissue still oozed pus freely but was not bleeding anymore. I sprayed the area down with an aerosol antiseptic and recovered the wound with a fresh bandage. After that, I listened to Kristy's heart and lungs and attempted to view the state of Kristy's other thigh, but the weight of her lard saturated utter thwarted my efforts. Still, I rubbed Kristy's fat neck down and inspected Samantha while waiting for her to rise.

Samantha was remarkablly small among the giants I had been raising on the farm. She alone was of average height and breadth for a Holstein as all of the other residents were quite tall. She had always been lean of muscle and now that she had "filled out" none was visible or even palatable. She was a belly gainer, but she favored her brisket as well, leaving her loin and back sparse in comparison to Samantha. She too had reoccurring rashes, but was thankfully clear of them at the moment. Like her physical stature suggested, Samantha was a bit of a throwback to the original Holstein. Her udder was among the largest on my farm, even among my "breeders." Like a young show cow, the pink skin was vast and rounded with strong ligaments; only her over and above average weight distorted its shape. I could tell that she would have had a massive 50 gallon a day udder easily if she had been impregnated. Also like a normal holstein she was also a bit dull. I had to actually train her as opposed to teach and she understood only the simplest of directions. As a result she was the second least attractive individual on the farm to me (Rebecca was last and Jennifer beat her only because of her size and memories of Bessie). I rubbed her snout absently as I listened to her breathing and heart rate. Other vital areas included the eyes and ears and mouth. I was done with Samantha almost as quickly as I had been with the "twins."

Matthew was next as Kristy seemed intent on taking a rest despite my desire to check her other thigh. Matthew was the only one on the farm on a true diet. He wore leptin patches high between his thighs usually to the right of his scrotum. He was a yo-yo dieter of sorts. I weighed him twice as often as each of my ladies and any time I saw his weight creep up past 1600, I'd slam him with a double dosage of the appetite suppressant his body was inhibited in making. Just coming off another crash diet, Mathew was slender and buff at a 1,442 lb weight. His shoulders were broad and his waist trim (if with excessive skin), a fine young stud if I'd ever seen. As with the rest of the group, I checked his vitals and made sure his orifices were clean and mite-free. I frowned as I handled his long hanging scrotum, making sure that his testicle was intact and that his implant was free floating and not incurring infection. A long scar down the middle of the rear of the bull's sac was the only visible remnant of the procedure. Though not at all squeamish with vaginal fluids, I used a latex glove for Matthew and I eagerly disposed of it after the check-up.

It was well after 2:00 by the time I had finished and I still had three more cows to find. I hunted them throughout my property and checked them one by one. Rebecca was still hanging around the farm, hideous to my eye and a constant reminder of the unpredictability of genetic engineering. More and more, I viewed her with contempt, I was not at all happy with the fact that I had to feed her and house her and doctor her when she was not only a dead end genetically, but and eyesore as well. But, my conscience bid me to continue caring for her since I had created her the way she was and was entirely of my own doing. Still, there was a part of me that wished I had recognized her deformity earlier and culled her in infancy. With a sigh, I gave her a cursory check-up, skipping her vagina and utter and doing only what I could standing by her neck. She hardly even gave me a glance and stood clipping the turf like an ordinary vapid cow on any dairy farm in America.

Hollie still eluded me and I guessed that she had retreated to the forested edge of my front lawn. I encountered Jennifer before I began hunting her. Jennifer was the only bovine on the farm besides Hollie, Mary and the calves that did not sport a leptin patch. She was obviously set into a particular eating habit, but as she aged, she began to slowly accumulate mass as she burned off less and less adipose each summer. Now, in early spring, she was at her heaviest, sporting a 3,462 pound coat of blubber. Jennifer proved to be of increasing interest to me as the oldest surviving member of the family ever. Her seventeenth birthday was this October, putting her well over the hill by any person's reckoning of a cow's lifespan. I've been told that a Holstein's lifespan was about 25 years naturally so I hoped for at least two decades with her weight.

Jennifer moved as if she weighed a thousand more pounds than she did and it was obvious that her joints pained her. She didn't become cloudy eyed or excessively lethargic, however. She seemed to have an upset stomach more often than most and spells of flatulence that would just about singe off my eyelashes. Her unaltered intelligence severely hampered my attempts to measure the effect on her brain power and that road of research was dead-ended very shortly. More important than her mental functioning or even pain and digestive problems were the long term consequences of obesity on her life support systems. A year ago, I first heard her heart murmur. I still can't tell exactly what it is without more advanced equipment that I have on hand, however, its improved with general heart medications. I wasn't too worried about her liver, though she received my special vaccination three years ago along with the rest of my heard. Really, I was using Jennifer as a canary. I was waiting until something happened to her so that I could hopefully prevent it in Mary in years to come. Jennifer's breaths were raspy and I thought I heard some sloshing in her trachea, but her murmur was faint today so I let it be.

I wandered my hilly field in search of my most valued mother. I was surprised that she was so far from the main farm, especially since James and Denise like to pester her for an occasional drink now that her utter was once again beginning to fill with her rich crème.

Eventually, I came across Hollie at the very edge of my land where it was separated from the bordering forest by a simple barbed wire fence. Despite only being two months pregnant, she appeared heavy with child. Her flanks had been concave last autumn, sucking in just a hand's breadth from her wide chest. Now they were quite rounded both from her expanding uterus and from the calorie intense diet I prescribed for her. I told her about the extra nutrients she would need during pregnancy, and even afterwards for milk, yet her resentment was clear on even on her inhuman features. I could understand her point of view, she saw it as a failure on her part to indulge her hunger even a little after all the time she spent resisting. Still she fed freely enough, though I still worried about what price such a massive burden would take on her body. Cows weren't meant to have so many at once. Almost without doubt, Hollie or her litter would die without proper monitoring and nourishment. I did not envy her in the slightest when it would come time to shove her four young ones into the world.

I still thought it was amazing that this had happened. I didn't know how Hollie had become so fertile. I didn't think that Matthew was overly aggressive with her in breeding, he was a submissive on the farm after all. Nothing in her stored genetic code would reveal the answer to me. Sometimes, I thought that it was through pure will alone that she was able to accomplish what I hadn't even heard of happening before in the bovine world.

Hollie looked up from the grass near the barbed wire fence and strode over to me. Her muscular shoulders and thighs slid beneath her tight mottled black-and-white skin. Strangely her muscular bulges excited me in a vague and indefinable sense, even though they didn't elicit a response from my lowers. Hollie exuded pure health as her sleek, yet bulging muscles worked, bouncing just slightly in a way that fat never would. She trotted gaily, tail swishing side to side, the slim empty flab of her brisket tightly affixed to the front of her chest.

She came up to me and licked my face eagerly, having no difficulty raising her head to my head level, indeed, she stood several inches taller at the shoulder (not counting fat) than Jessica, the second tallest. I still had trouble equating Hollie's towering bulk with the small calf I had welcomed into my home just a few years ago. I reached out and hugged her around the neck, astonished in the incredible power I felt in her thick ropes of neck muscles. Hollie took a step back without me prodding and spoke to me. She understood my limitations in her developing language and used only the words I had learned to recognize so far, "Happy see you." She said.

"and I'm glad to see you too, Hollie." I said, not bothering to even attempt to mimic her moos. "I want to feel your pulse and utter. Also, I want you to stay in your stall after dinner so I can bring in some equipment and check your little ones."

Hollie let out an exasperated breath, but she knew that I was only being prudent, if sometimes obsessive.

Her pulse was effortless to find. I could almost hear her massive heart working just by standing near her. Her skin was almost uncomfortably warm in the intensity of the afternoon sun. Her black patches radiated heat as if glad to be shedding it. As Hollie's cardiac and respiratory health couldn't be doubted, even by a stickler such as myself, I moved on quickly to areas that concerned her approaching motherhood.

I stifled a sigh so Hollie wouldn't hear as I looked upon her swelling mammary glands. Although not a quality udder by the milk industry's standards, Hollie's udder was impressive for here on the farm. It was mature and had already nurtured three sets of calved from their tottering first steps into grown adults. Although I didn't milk her heavily after the birth of James and Denise, the two calves' extended (although only occasional at this time) nursing kept Hollie's milk flowing even now. The skin coating the udder sagged from its lost volume so I knew that soon Hollie would be entering into her dry period (A good thing in my opinion since the milk industry usually kept cows lactating ten months out of the year, giving them only a brief two month dry period before calving). Despite its slightly wrinkled appearance, the ligaments supporting it were strong and I knew that by summer, the pink sac would be tight and high between her thighs once more.

Thick veins wrapped around the skin I shaved every two weeks. Hollie boasted the only udder on the farm that was distinct from her belly. Her rounded and slightly protruding belly hardly came down to her thighs while her ample udder dropped nearly to her hocks. It was like a great semicircle when viewed from the side, but was actually rather flat, filling the gap between her muscular thighs neatly yet it was more that malleable enough not to hinder her movement or cause rashes. The young central ligament neatly divided the left quadrants from the right. The nipples were large and bulbous from feeding three generations of calves, yet not unattractively so; they all hung down perfectly straight as Hollie stood still for my inspection. All of her nipples were clean, gave their milk easily when squeezed and shut tightly afterwards. I laid my hand under the central crease and lifted her udder, feeling its heft and composition. I bounced it lightly, though not without some effort, it must have weighed over 40 pounds. I felt the small milk reservoirs slosh a little and probed the inner complexes of the milk machinery for clumps and signs of blockage. As a final test, I tasted a little from each teat, admiring the smooth texture, slightly yellowed from its non-processed fat content. It was rich, but not excessively so, Mary's milk in her late milking period had tasted almost like butter.

As much as I would have liked to, I did not fool around with inspecting her vulva. I couldn't learn very much without any equipment and since I knew I would have time later, I didn't feel it was right to invade her privacy at the moment.

I ran my hand down her belly as I approached her front and absently pressed my ear to her gut. The flesh gave less than an inch was very firm, such a difference from what I was used to. I heard distant gurgling as her rumen fermented her store of collected grass and nothing more. Almost as if in response, Hollie pressed her lips together as she politely silenced a burp; although, the methane gas still didn't escape detection by my nostrils. I smiled and patter her belly, "You better get used to increased gas. These calves are going to be pressing awfully hard on your stomachs soon." I said.

Hollie nodded her assent and continued to stare at me, as if trying to think about something to say. I wouldn't be surprised if she was trying to figure out how to say something more complicated than my limited vocabulary would allow. I brightened at a thought, however. I walked fully over to her front and rubbed the thick curly hair on her head. I said, "Hollie, I know how frustrating it is for you to talk, but I think I've finally come up with something."

Her eyes widened in interest.

"I was surfing the internet when an advertisement popped up for a most interesting new toy. They've apparently been playing around with the technology for the last half century or more, but they finally came up with a marketable device.

"It's a device that lets you control a computer simply by thought. They say that it's going to replace the pointer and keyboard, but I think they're full of it. It said right on the web site that it takes a lot of training to use the thing properly. But still, I think that if you could use a computer... just imagine the possibilities. Hollie, you could write four or five times as fast; who knows, you might even be able to teach it how to speak for you."

Hollie seemed stunned, her mouth was even agape. But soon she sounded a slow moderated moo that I understood as "When?"

"I wanted to make sure you were interested in it before ordering. It isn't at all cheap. If I go order it now, it will still take at least a month to ship way out here."

Hollie's ears lowered somewhat in disappointment.

"Now, now." I said, attempting to comfort her, "A month or two isn't all that long and you have to make sure you're taking care of yourself and your young." A small twinkle entered my eyes, I was sure, "After all, you're eating for five and you need lots of light exercise."

Hollie bared her teeth in the comic smile she had learned from her daughters. I retuned it and went back to my house to place the order. I sighed along the way as I thought about the fact that I would have to work several more months before early retirement to redeem the money I was spending instead of saving and investing. I thought it was worth it, but the thought of the yet unstarted work still waiting for me on my computer made me glad that, if Mother's stockbroker's projections were correct, I would be retiring within three years. The thought of the almost endless time with Mary made my heart soar.

July 30, 2043:

The package arrived even later than I had thought possible back when I ordered it. Apparently, the public wasn't responding very well with the new technology; I wasn't surprised when I removed the device from the shipping crate. As advertised, the headband was thin and stylish, but wasn't advertised so clearly was the huge, toaster-sized module that needed to be installed into the computer in order for the wireless headband to work. I thought it was clear that the technology still had not yet come far enough for it to be more practical than keyboards, voice recognition systems or the newer and highly successful three-dimensional mouse. Despite the clunkiness, all I cared about was that it actually worked. I sat down with the long and fairly complex handbook and despite my initial concern, I approved of the myriad features and adaptability of the device.

Thankfully for my purposes, no two humans had identical brain waves and so the device was designed to adapt to the user through a very lengthy and thorough tutorial. I only hoped that Hollie would have the patience for it. As I read further, I thought about the potential in this box. It would be hard, especially since I wasn't a software engineer, but I thought that this could be the key for actually having a conversation with Hollie and her offspring. It would mean buying more expensive software, but if I could get the programs to operate together... I had hope.

Over the next few days, I installed an electrical outlet for Hollie's stall, it wasn't terribly hard considering the barn was already lit and heated. I sacrificed my laptop and attached the "toaster" to it on a high shelf in her stall. I brought in a small monitor that I hung for Hollie on a wall at her eye level; I didn't want her accidentally knocking over or spilling something on several grand worth of electronics.

Of course, a headband for humans wasn't going to fit Hollie, but I easily saw the three metal skin connectors on the inside of the band, one for the forehead and one for each temple. I was tempted to cut the band into segments and glue them in place like the ancient videos I had seen of early research into brain waves, but I thought that would be too cumbersome to use on a daily basis. Instead, I grafted extra lengths of soft, but stretchy nylon onto the band. Since her neck came out from behind her head as opposed to dropping straight down, putting the band around her cranium was too unstable. Instead, I changed the design to come down under her jaw, the forehead placement would be a little off, but then so was her entire anatomy. I fervently wished that the device was as adaptable as it claimed.

After the installation, I brought Hollie in to see the improvements. She dipped her head in approval. I smiled and began to explain to Hollie, "Here's the head band. You'll have to wear it to make the machine work... Oh!" I slapped my head even as I realized the fact. The metal connectors needed contact with the skin to function, and Hollie's head was covered with fur. I sighed and tried to pick up where I had left off.

"Umm... I'm going to have to shave a little bit of fur off of your head."

Hollie growled and stamped her foot. I didn't need a translation to see that she was not pleased.

"Just a little bit! Look at the size of these connectors, they're smaller than dimes."

Hollie looked at the enlarged headband and tilted her head in resignation. I was rather displeased between the similarities in her posture now and when I told her she needed to gain weight for her calves.

It didn't take much time to have the job done. The udder shavers I regularly used were a bit awkward to use on such small areas, but I managed roughly circular patches in the right places. Hollie stood perfectly still for me, but I could feel her tenseness as I exposed these pink patches on her previously flawless black and white face. Thankfully, the band is black at least. And I can bleach it the correct colors to match her coat if she really wants it. I thought.

I was jittery with excitement when the preparations were done and the laptop was powering up. The tutorial opened automatically and a woman's calm synthesized voice issued out of the speakers, "Thank you for purchasing Cognizeance™ from Sky Blue Inc. Please make sure your headband fits snugly in the displayed position before continuing."

I had to click the next button several times before the courtesies and product information had passed and the tutorial started. First the machine took several minutes to establish a baseline with Hollie. It took so long that I thought it would finally end in an error message, but finally the grey-out "Next" button colored with the emergence of a large display of the word, "Success." I let out an audible sigh of relief as I clicked my pointer.

The next hour passed with Hollie performing tasks that looked like they originated from a children's television show. I sat on my stool as Hollie was asked to imagine triangles, squares and circles of varying color; move objects around the screen and repeat patterns. Hollie looked as if she really enjoyed the simple games and often went back to repeat them. Even as I sat, bored out of my mind, I was happy for Hollie and I realized that I had taken for granted working with this. After all, this was the first time that anything besides a pen or a paintbrush had yielded to her commands. Finally, I had to tell Hollie to move out of the paint tutorial and go forward as she tried increasingly complex patterns and shapes. I said, "It's just a demo, the real paint program will be past this."

Hollie nodded, and before I could reach into my pocket for my pointer, she had moved the cursor herself and hit the next button. She winked at me and bared her teeth in a friendly grin as I sat back down. Hollie stood staring at the screen and manipulating objects and eventually words with increasing ease. Hollie had initial difficulty with words at first, perhaps due to the way in which she interpreted them, but the program proved its merit by soon adapting to her through a small side tutorial.

After the program had finished, the lady once again thanked us for our support and vanished for good, leaving Hollie at the desktop. I clapped her on the shoulder and congratulated her. I left after showing Hollie some basics of the operating system, including how to access the internet, turn the computer off, and, of course, the paint program. "Don't stay up too late now, Hollie, it'll be here for you whenever you want from now on." Hollie nodded, but went back to the screen, moving the a pen deftly across a blank page as wondrous and diverse shapes sprang into existence simultaneously across the empty space. I felt proud of Hollie, fatherly affection spilling over into the deep love I felt for her. Still I hoped she took it easy, she would need her rest as she entered into her sixth month of pregnancy and the quadruplets took greater and greater tolls on her body.

October 14, 2043:

As the year progressed, I noticed that Hollie became increasingly aloof towards me. It wasn't that she wasn't affectionate towards me or even stopped sexing with me occasionally, it was the fact that I seemed to see her less often and she seemed to be becoming emotionally distant. I honestly had no idea why and resigned it to fluctuating hormone levels.

She grew to use the computer very efficiently and her comprehension of the language soared with access to texts on the internet. Though I knew the danger, I didn't stop her from chatting with people on the internet, I did make sure to impress on her how incredibly important that we remain secretive and the consequences if we were found. I trusted her to be careful, after all, she wasn't a child anymore, and she settled in to the internet life with ease. She had several E-mail accounts, was a member of a great many websites where she could share her art and stories (that she could now produce with ease), and even had several online friends. It saddened me somewhat that she could never meet with these people, but then friends were often isolated by distance anyways.

Though it shouldn't have surprised me, both Cathleen and Lauren had begun pestering me to train them to use a computer hardly a week after Hollie started using hers. As a result, I had to install monitors in their stalls as well, all hooked up to the same laptop because I flatly refused to buy another mind access module (let alone two). Despite Hollie claim of priority on the system, the two young adult girls grew to become just as internet savvy as Hollie, and even learned how to install new programs, delete old ones and perform basic software maintenance. It helped that Hollie had less free time as the year wore on due to my pressures for proper roughage gathering and exercise for her growing litter.

Indeed, even as I refilled the small central silo for the barn's inhabitants I noted that Hollie was quite bloated. It excited me to watch her burgeoning gut fill out and round even as it caused considerable discomfort for Hollie. Four calves was not at all an easy burden for her, even as an experienced mother. She told me how her joints ached at her sudden surge in girth, how she suffered from unpredictable bouts of diarrhea, and she complained about the amount of time I said she should be spending grazing. Not only was she anxious to spend time online, but she was, for the first time in her life, struggling to keep up her appetite. The calves inside her compressed her gut even more than I had expected and she struggled to eat enough even as she suffered from intestinal cramping. I knew this pregnancy wasn't going to be easy from the start, but Hollie was thoroughly miserable.

Right now she laid in the stall. She rested on her gut rather uncomfortably, as if unused to its shape. Her belly lifted her lower body at an odd angle and I knew that her bowleggedness in her rear legs made it more and more difficult to rise. Despite its firmness, her belly was slightly squashed from her weight, turning the large sphere into an oval that narrowed towards her chest. As she breathed her flanks expanded and contracted, lifting her an inch or two with every breath. The excess girth she had put on returned her ribs to non-visibility, but they did not escape palpitation. Her spine was a smooth protrusion along her back down to her bulbous tail head. The hooks and pins of her hips arched over the smoothness of her belly, creating a network of skeletal structures over the comparable smoothness of her gut. They emerged less from deepening fat covering and seemed almost inadequate to lift the rest of her.

My eyes wandered down past her tail onto the soft, pink protrusion that partially covered her right leg from view. It had shrunk considerably over the summer as she enjoyed an "extended" dry period. Her lack of lactation helped her build important fatty reserves and I thought she would have been much too thin for four calves had she been kept with milk much longer. The elastic skin and internal ligaments had indeed brought back a semblance of youth and immaturity to the fleshy pink sac, but the numerous veins and still slightly visible wrinklage testified to its veteran service. I checked every day now for her milk and kept the teats extra clean for her as she was beginning to have difficulty licking her udder herself.

So enthralled was I in consuming Hollie's body with my eyes that I almost over filled the silo. I had to hand scoop several pounds of grain out into the trough before the lid would fit on properly. Hollie rose on her forehooves, bringing her slightly encumber hindquarters behind her. Her belly swayed side to side as if she was a lot heavier than she really was. Her tail swished lightly as she mooed at me, something I wasn't able to grasp but accepted as gratitude, and passed me to devour the discarded grain.

James, who had begun to wander over with the sound of grain hitting the trough, turned tail and went back into his shared stall when he realized who had claimed the small surplus. I thoroughly enjoyed the small moments here in my home; Hollie's pregnancy was more than enough excitement and I constantly looked forward to when I could settle down and worry about nothing more than watching my family grow (in more ways than one).

Later that day, after I had finished my prescribed paperwork, I returned to Mary's big barn from whence I left early that morning. I had skimped somewhat on her upkeep that day to ensure that I would be able to complete my personnel reports and she needed a good rub down as well as moisturizers for her belly. She clawed her way over to me with her front hooves and mooed for my attention, positively brightening as I stroked her smooth, fat neck. For some reason, her feedings became heavier over the summer and she managed an excellent 230lbs since May. Every little bit helps, I laughed internally as I gazed upon her.

Mary followed me at her own pace as I set about finishing what I had neglected earlier that day. It was late in the afternoon, and I noted that Mary had finished what she could from her feed trough (It was still a quarter full, but she couldn't reach her partially paralyzed neck into it to finish off the food) so I decided to fill that up so she could have something to occupy her while I performed chores around the barn. Mary's tail waged back and forth across the fat ballooning from between her hind legs as I put two fresh bales of alfalfa feed into the wide, shallow bin. Mary dug in, the rim of the tray pinching her expansive pigeon chest even to get at the closest roughage. As she fed, I cleaned up around the barn. I wasn't able to visit Mary during the day today, so naturally there were "droppings" to pick up, including from under her tail. Luckily, Mary was smart enough to go in one corner so it was easier to clean (still she filled an entire wheel barrow from the leavings of just one day). I swept, mopped, skimmed the pool (which Mary used regularly all by herself now), changed the water filters and performed other menial tasks in the care of the room.

By the time I was finished, Mary had polished off almost half of her feed and was contently chewing cud. I rubbed her head, even the top was growing soft as her head slowly dissolved into her neck. Mary swallowed as I began lowering her body. With the support of the tarp, Mary's forward profile was an oval, with her widest points well above knee level. While it wasn't much of a drop to the floor from her lower belly (only a few inches) almost three feet from the farthest outskirts of her flanks needed to be covered before they dropped to the ground. The formless fat that had been held out in empty space by the tarp collapsed and stretched Mary's skin as the support was removed. Like an elevator, Mary's width lowered to the ground, even though her head and "shoulders" barely moved more than a couple inches. Skin bunched in some places, tightened in others and my heart began beating faster in excitement. Her whole body seemed to undergo transformation as her profile changed from that of an oval to that of an uneven half-moon (much wider than it was tall). Even Mary's face changed as her brisket dropped. A few horizontal folds in her fat skin opened only to collapse into vertical ones. The falling flesh tugged at the massive cellulitic clumps on her neck and in turn tugged at her jowls and puffy cheeks, stretching her long face just slightly.

The hard-on that I had had almost since I entered the barn grew painful as I devoured her with my eyes. I pinched my arm so that I could concentrate enough to begin grooming her. The humidity of summer was declining as winter approached, but not so much as to provoke Mary's dandruff or dry skin conditions. Also, the rashes that cropped up during the summer on the insides of her buried limbs were clearing up, so there was almost nothing to do but brush her exposed skin. Soon it was time to work on her belly, an area proving more and more hassle some to access.

Half a year of gaining had done nothing to improve Mary's ability to maneuver herself. If anything, every attempt cost her more deeply out of her reserves and it took longer and longer to even get herself going, and to recover afterwards. Mary sighed when I stopped brushing and I think she knew what was coming next. I tried to sound optimistic as I told her that it was time to get at her belly. Mary shut her eyes and clenched her jaws. Her curled hind limbs dropped and I needed to shove the fat rolls that caught under them between the ground so Mary wouldn't pinch herself with her sharp hooves. The folds grew more difficult to shove back behind her ankles and I knew that soon they would be a permanent addition to her body.

Atrophy was just starting to infect Mary's hind legs but even the minor weakness would have rendered Mary of even rolling over without my help. As she had done countless times since she began living in the big barn, Mary started by rocking her body side to side, building momentum. I aided her, despite my relative weakness in relation to her gargantuan mass, by shoving her girth back as she rocked and swayed. It was a team effort as my hands plunged to the wrists in her supportless flesh and her rocking grew more intense. Finally there came the pivotal moment where nearly a quarter of her expansive white gut flashed at me as she rocked away. She gave a sort of crippled hop with both of her right legs to mount the expanse of her right flank. For a moment, it looked as though she was turning, and then her flesh flowed... the wrong way. Mary was carried back onto her belly with enough force that her left flank would have bowled me over had I not jumped out of the way. Mary panted, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead and flow down her muzzle. The thudding of her large heart was audible as I closed in on her, comforting her as she rested for another attempt.

It took another two tries to roll over, the feat finally accomplished only when I ran towards her as she hopped, ramming my body into her belly and tilting her over, risking being pinned by her massive weight if she should fail to roll the right way. Mary was all but gasping for breath, her flanks steaming in the air conditioned environment. I frowned as she rested, knowing that this was simply too much to ask of Mary any longer and as she rested I tried to think of other ways in which my disabled cow might still feel accomplishment in relative activity.

Still being, in a sense, mobile, Mary had so far escaped the plague of bedsores that had tormented Bessie. However, the skin on her belly was still in below average condition to my eyes.

Towering to head height lay before me a bulging pink wall with a fine coating of white hairs. Just like an above ground canvas pool, her belly was impeccably firm at the bottom, yielding a meager finger's length into the skin. However, the close to her top, the more inclined it was to sway and bounce. Roughly rectangular from fat's distorting effects, the wall was curved only slightly so that its highest point lay atop Mary's chest, which continued to heave dramatically even half an hour after her struggle. Her right leg was utterly absent from view, her left leg still pinched her belly, creating a sharp dip in the otherwise smooth curve of her horizon. The appendage seemed much too thin and almost vestigial in contrast to the massive quantities of flesh surrounding it. Mary's udder was located rather far from under her thighs, its position usurped by the surging tide of adipose. I kept the general area of the teats shaved in a circular area, though every time I brought out the clippers, I was hard pressed to find the original layout of her once prominent mammary glands. Long ago receded into her belly, her udder was nothing but a flat, practically imaginary place on which her nipples sprouted, alien on the otherwise smooth expanse of her belly.

I stripped my shirt and lathered my collections of creams, lotions and oils lavishly on Mary's belly. Her white belly expanded before me like a living canvas, coming forth and receding with every breath Mary took, as inviting as the seaside. I was indeed an artist, but my paints were those that restored the canvas to its purity; erasing rashes, applying oil to dry skin, painting sores and friction burns with soothing creams. Even through her thick coat of fat, I could see Mary relax as I labored on her; both of her legs curled away out of sight into hidden sheaths of fat and her labored breathing relaxed. I needed to utilize both a step stool to reach her "upper" belly on her left underside and a broad lever to reach her still buried right underside. I was coated head to waist in a variety of creams as oils as I lathered and pressed my concoctions into the yielding expanse of my lover; there always seemed to be more skin just out of arm's length.

I couldn't help it as my breath grew heavy and my mind fogged with desire and lust. Unable to concentrate fully, I must have gone over her belly at least three times in places, enjoying the heady sensation and thrill of mock pleasure that flowed through me as I touched caressed Mary's perfect body again and again. I didn't ejaculate, but rather extracted pleasure simply from my senses. The sight of her body, the sound of her now calm and controlled breathing, the touch of her smooth lotion coated skin, dappled everywhere just so with stretch marks, the scent of her, just detectable under the perfumes of her topical treatments. I could even cause her remembered taste to emerge on command in my near delirious state of bestial rut.

Dripping with the multitudes of prescribed potions for Mary, I stalked down to her head, walking around the piled expanse of her "fore-chest" and brisket. Bowed under its own weight, Mary's neck curved down to the ground and rested comfortably on an outcropping of her own neck fat. Muscles quivering from the strain, Mary brought her head up around to confront me and gave a deep bellowing moo, setting the fine creases on her immobile flesh near the ground aquiver. After this greeting, she flopped her head back down onto her fat neck, as limp as a jellyfish. As I grew closer, her nostrils flared and Mary became interested in me once more, even enough to strain her muscles to bring her head towards me again.

I honestly wasn't concerned, flooded as I was with barely restrained and unsated desire. Still I registered the fact that my raging hormones had probably changed my scent. Mary took great draughts of my scent as I groped her sagging neck and brisket eagerly. Eventually, she became still once again, to my mind submissive to my desire. Whether that was true, or if she simply grew tired of supporting her head again didn't matter to me in my aroused state, I had made my interpretation. I slid to my knees, her brisket puddling around and cushioning my knees as I undid my shorts. As I knelt, I gathered her ample neck fat into my arms and fucked her until I felt myself again. Overhead, the gathering darkness in the windows illuminated stars as dusk progressed into night. Heedless, I immersed myself into the pleasures of the flesh again and again and again even as Mary fell into a quiet doze.

December 29, 2043:

Years of welcoming new calves into the world had honed my paternal instincts and today they told me was the day I'd be welcoming four more into life on my farm. It was a cold frostbitten day and I hadn't permitted Hollie to leave the barn except on the warmest of days since well before Christmas. All the signs were present, from the swelling of her vulva, the discharge and even her scent. Hollie wasn't inclined to disagree and indeed, she was tired of being pregnant and dealing with her (not disagreeably to my eyes) swollen and distended body.

My medical arsenal had only been further expanded over the years, and I did not anticipate trouble from either the newborns or their mother, however, I was cautious. Four calves at once was almost unheard of, even in this age where dairy and beef cows alike almost never saw a bull. Still I was confident in not only Hollie's young body to see through this trial, but her spirit as well.

Her contractions started early and progressed quickly, almost like the little buggers couldn't wait to get out; or that Hollie had had enough of them renting space in her uterus. The first two came forth easily within minutes of each other. They didn't care much for the drop to the ground, but they eagerly fed from Hollie's swollen udder when I sponged them down. I smiled when I saw their lanky, uncoordinated black and white spotted bodies as they wobbled about. One was female and the other was a bull. I hadn't named any of Hollie's children and I wasn't about to start now; I was sure she'd tell me later what she had chosen.

I stayed with Hollie all through the long hours that followed. Her contractions never eased, even long after her two firstborns had wandered off to sleep. Eventually she laid down onto a mat of hay, flanks heaving, her vulva still leaking uteran fluids. I monitored her, but nothing came up out of the ordinary so slowly, I began to doze.

I woke to a start to the sound of a calf bawling. I nearly dropped my moniter and had to grab at it when it fell out of my lap. When I looked at it, I saw immediately, that Hollie was fine, however, there scene before me was not. One newborn heifer looked perfectly normal and was bent over, suckling at Hollie's teats near the ground. The other, however, was a tangled mass of limbs beneath Hollie's rear. She was still shoving after birth and hadn't noticed, but the small bundle wasn't moving.

I ran over as quickly as I could, but I could already tell that it was dead. It was too small for one, only partially developed, something had gone wrong during the myriad steps to create a healthy newborn and had terminated itself. Too small to have ever survived, the tiny (though still obviously over 50lbs) calf left a sore spot in my heart. I frowned, This is the chance you take with natural fertilization. At least the fetus didn't prove to be toxic.

I told myself that I should be happy for the three surviving calves, that in this case there was nothing I could have done. Still... I was disappointed to have had so little impact on this birth. To me I had done nothing worthy, nothing but sit on my stool and watch.

Hollie turned eventually and saw the miscarriage. The sniffed it but dismissed it quickly with animal efficiency. I couldn't blame her, the three calves were roused again at her movements and began to close in at their own wobbly paces. With Hollie occupied, it was up to me to clean up. I buried the remains in a small unmarked grave behind the barn. Later I planted a rose bush on top of it, a nameless reminder that a nameless newborn didn't quite make it into the world.

June 27, 2044:

Despite the new additions to the farm, Hollie seemed to grow even more distant from me. She grew tense with my touch and grew to refuse my advance more often than not. She never answered my prodding directly, and the fact that she couldn't talk to me without the computer in her stall proved to be a very efficient means of deflecting my concerns. She seemed to keep to herself, but even went to the extreme of limiting my contact with her newborns when she got the chance. I couldn't say that I was terribly pleased with her at this time. Always when she actually sought me out, it was to berate me about Mary.

She had finally told me to stop with her shortly after the birth of the triplets. Like I had planned, I used appetite stimulants to "persuade" Mary into unruly fits of hunger when I started her "diet" early in the year. Hollie relented eventually, and Mary went back to her routine, actually improving her intake by a quarter bale a day even after the stimulants were removed. I must admit that Hollie's aloofness increased after that event. But she couldn't possibly know what I had done... Could she?

I held my head in my hands, confused, frustrated with my emotions tugging me every which way. I wanted Hollie back in my life, I was sure of that. But also, I wanted Mary and more than that, I wanted Mary to realize every bit of the potential that I had seen in her from the start. She was everything I could ask for, barely starting to feel the effects of her weight. I wanted her bigger, fatter, like I've never wanting anything else in the world... and yet. I couldn't help but look at things form Hollie's perspective. She was intelligent, and intelligent to know that Mary could no longer do most things that she probably enjoyed previously, could no longer walk without tremendous assistance. More than that, I thought, she probably realizes who I would expect to take her place in the event of her death.

Nonsense, I argued, I've told her again and again that I would never force her. I never complained a bit when she started loosing weight purposely.

You did a little.

Ok, a little. But I never, would NEVER force her.

Like you did Mary?

That thought stopped me cold. My mind went numb and a guilt so vast emerged that I couldn't begin to comprehend it. I slammed the gate on those emotions before they could spread to my waking mind. Still I realized that it would be so easy to have Hollie back. All I had to do was stop. Stop encouraging the obesity in my family of cows. My mind fluttered through scenarios where I limited intake, prescribed diets and leptin patches to ease their genetically inherited hunger. Again I stopped myself. I could never live like that, I had come to live on this farm for one reason, isolated myself from the majority of humanity for one reason, had so far lived almost half my life for one reason. To indulge myself freely. How could I give that up as well? Again, arguing thoughts arose, but they quickly wilted in lea of one fact, I was too weak. Too weak to leave my urges in the realms of fantasy, too weak to force myself into society. It was so much easier to lay back, to retreat from the world, to create a new one, here all around me. I brought my knees to my chest and cried silently for I don't know how long.

Later, after I recovered, I resolved myself to explain to Hollie once again, and to this time not hold back at all. I imagined myself apologizing for deceiving her with Mary, explaining that I had devoted my life to this. Explaining that what I did was a good thing, it kept me from loosing my mind, that Mary wouldn't notice more weight at this point so it would be best to continue on as things have been. Yes, I thought, she could not possibly argue with my logic.

My well planed lecture never happened, however. I could not find Hollie anywhere. Not that that was strange. What was strange was that many of my other bovine denizens were also missing. Cathleen, Lauren, James, Denise, the three triplets (Sandra, Jack and Alice) were all missing. I had no idea where Hollie or her entire brood were. I looked out into all of the pastures, but it was soon apparent that over half my population had vanished. Dumbstruck, I wandered into the barn where the stalls were kept in a last ditch effort of location and saw an obvious sign. A printed message was nailed (rather inexpertly) to the stall post, it read simply "Check the Computer." It also had a large arrow below the text, angled into the stall.

As if in a dream, my feet led me to the moniter. I pulled the universal pointer out of my pocket and the moment I moved the cursor, I saw that a text document had been left minimized on the desktop. I opened it and read:

Dear Rodney,

I fear about what I am about to do, both for myself and for you. I have thought a long time about it, and have finally reached the decision that now is the best time of the year, and you have gone too far this time with Mother. Simply put, I cannot live with you anymore. I am sorry and it hurts me too but I will not, can not continue on with you seeing now the depths of your depravity. You are sick, Rodney, even if you don't know it. You have let reality slip from your fingers living on this "farm." I know that it is your fantasy, but one cannot live in a fantasy indefinitely; I know, I have tried. It is cruel that the intelligence you gave us, and I include my children with me, is the very reason why I can't abide what you are doing. It is cruel, however you twist it in your heart and mind, it is cruel to take from my dull mother and predecessors what they don't even realize is missing. That is why I must leave.

I have also taken my children. I do not think you would have forced my mother's life onto me, even though I know you easily have the power to do so. But I can't trust you with my children, even if you offered them the same "bargain." I would not have them tempted by a life of luxury and pampering at the cost of... well you know the costs better than anyone. I know that we are alone in the world, can not expect better treatment from fellow humans than you would offer us here, even if we could pass for normal cows. I have taken my children with me into the surrounding wilds. Please do not attempt to find us, it would make life only more difficult than I know it would be, and know that I would never allow you to find us. I believe that we would be safe, we are great enough in both size and numbers to counter the minor predators left in the scattered islands of wilderness left, so do not feel motivated to seek us for our own safety.

I know that this is painful and please believe me when I say that I feel it too. I loved you, still love you deep inside, you were a father to me, a teacher, and a lover. I cannot forget everything you have given me and I say this final time, Thank You. I do not know if I could bear to see you again, but I or one of my own will contact you again in the future; do not wait for it, even next year may be too soon.

Forever and Always,

Hollie

My eyes swept over the page again and again, uncomprehending, unbelieving. I didn't know how this could have happened. For a time I stood starting blankly at the page, its words unfocused and hazy in my eyes, waiting to feel something. Finally I did feel something, a hot ember in my soul, something that was not unfamiliar, but not ever expressed in context with one of my cows. I felt anger. More than that, rage. How could she abandon me?! I was about to explain, I was about to make everything better, dammit! I shouted and struck out at the computer monitor. It hit the ground and the screen cracked, but still the hateful letter appeared on its surface. I ground it into the ground with the heel of my boot and turned away, not looking back.

Somewhere, deep inside, I knew I was being irrational. The voice was tiny, and I didn't want to hear it. Finally some days later it was finally silent. My rage was cooled, and anger dissipated, only to be replaced with disappointment. I came to view Hollie as another failure. If only I had designed her properly, this would never have happened. I told myself. She isn't to blame, only the randomness of genes and developmental flaws. It was a lie, and I knew it was a lie, but it was a comfortable one and I immersed myself in it.

When I next emerged out onto my farm it seemed right somehow, restored. I should never have bothered with human genes, I told myself, but at least that is in the past. However, my geniality guttered when I laid eyes upon the one eyesore on the farm, Rebecca. Her ox-like frame still repulsed me sexually. Another defect, like Hollie. I said to myself. All of a sudden, it occurred to me a course of action that I, for some reason, hadn't considered before. Why should I continue to keep her? I wondered, She is an eyesore, a hungry eyesore at that, and furthermore, she shouldn't be allowed to procreate more like herself. The sane part of my mind screamed that she was sterile, by my hands myself and that she had never come into heat since childhood, let alone looked as if to bear children. This voice was at once swallowed up, No, operations can reverse themselves sometimes, I cannot take the chance. There is but one thing to do. That very day, I took her to the barn, laid her upon a pallet and euthanized her. Her brown, unintelligent eyes glazed over and shut, her breath stilled and I felt no pity, but I did not feel relief either. I buried her far from the mound where Bessie's headstone rested and left no mark on the earth for her.

April 30, 2045

I honestly didn't feel insane at this point. The closest had been after Hollie's departure and perhaps after I put Rebecca to sleep. The rest of the year, I felt better that I had in a long, long time. I was overcome with a certainty that not only was what I was doing right, but that Mary enjoyed it as much as I did. I pushed her and she responded in kind and with an enthusiasm that I never saw in Bessie. I began marking her progress, even making curves showing not only her weight but the rate at which she gained. Her gains nearly matched Bessie's at her weight even without a feeding hose.. yet. I photographed her daily, making movies of her gains in girth, the ways she moved in all her glory.

My only regret was the seeming emptiness of my stables. Only five cows remained to me now, besides Mary, and Jessica seemed to be on the decline as far as her health. Every cow, except Mary and Matthew were sterile and I kicked myself for putting my complete faith in Hollie's line. Still, as opposed to buying a new cow and letting Mathew impregnate her (I had already removed Mattew's implant so he could no longer produce defective offspring), I decided that my existing cows could use a little more pampering. In my twisted logic, I saw my repression of their "natural" selves with the use of leptin patches to be absurd. They wanted it, I wanted them to get it. I couldn't see the problem. After all, I did have more free time with less cows to care for. I let them all eat as much as they wanted, it was not my place to curb their own relentless appetites.

Outside my Big Barn, which was becoming a miniature paradise inside my paradise, Jennifer was my major concern. Her health had deteriorated with age, but she experienced no wasting, indeed, she was fatter than she had ever been before. She staggered with her two tons and two hundred pounds. Her old muscles and aching joints left her fairly immobile. I trained her to rest on a pallet, just in case, though she still responded (with some prodding) to simple commands that eased my care for her. Her heart murmur had developed into regular chest pain and she took nitroglycerin regularly. She also now had a displaced abomasums, swollen, no doubt from her own failure to eat roughage and her own greed of grains. It was a difficult condition to live with and since I could not hope to pierce her thick abdomen with any of my tools, all I could do was help with her omnipresent stomach cramps and hope to prevent her "true stomach" from twisting around and strangling her guts. Surprisingly, her airways were clean and her breathing easy, aside from her bouts of chest pain.

Mathew bloated up to 1,900lbs and lounged around the pasture with the confidence of a lion of a pride. I didn't know if he could even service a female with his sagging gut, but he never tried. The only one still experiencing her heats was Mary, and they grew less and less heavy as her weight surged.

Kristy and Samantha both were relatively flawed in their own ways, but they seemed enough of a success to merit living in my paradise. Likewise with the others, their weights had soared. Kristy with her heavy haunches and floor dragging belly barely managed to walk, leaning forward comically as she struggled with her mammoth caboose. I knew all too soon she would wear out her front limbs and she'd be stranded, a fate well deserved by the poor greedy thing that she was. I would be there to help her with her troubles as well as I could though, because I pitied her. Samantha was better off, but a weight of 2,600lbs was heavy for her small frame. Her back buckled under the strain and she walked a little oddly. She alone, aside from Matthew, seemed to have stabilized her weight. Good for her I thought, Though her hips look a little wasted, I should offer her some after dinner morsels in my spare time. I saw no incongruence between my feelings of Kristy and Samantha, I was only helping.

Most interesting of all was Jessica. Having the will, and now the stomach, to go forward, she did so most enthusiastically. She now shared the Big Barn with Mary, though at the disadvantage of having a pulley system to support her bulk. She could still move, of a sort. Her 4,600lbs weighed her down into a decent BCS 15. She was as heavily encumbered around her neck, shoulders and head as Mary despite her massive weight disadvantage. The advantage was that she could push herself a bit with her strong hind legs. She kept near the pool and entered it frequently to have freedom of movement. I overlooked her off balance in weight in sight of the potential I always knew was there. Jessica's neck was literally larger around than her waist, broader than her chest. From ears further buried than Mary's her neck spread from a two foot high mound behind and above her head down to the floor. Viewed from the front, her massive collar obscured all the rest of her body, even her brisket was overwhelmed and engulfed in the flow. Her head, which she used to flaunt at me to shake her prized assets was immobile now except for the slightest movements. Her great, black furred collar expanded from behind her head, creasing over almost half of her upper cheeks. From below, the excess tissue attacked her jaw, barely permitting any downward motion, indeed, she held her head high over the expanse of fat to keep herself afloat in expanding tides. Stretching down to the ground in a taut, stretch mark coated curtain, her forechest and collar exploded feet out in front of her, piled in a huge formless mass. Her forelimbs were absent from view entirely, folded deep within the myriad creases of her neck and fatty ribs. Her weight was piled high atop her shoulders and sagged low beneath her breastbone. Her hips were wide and her belly low to her ankles, but for her weight, they were very thin. Her loin half-heartedly consumed several inches of her tail in its lazy growth. Her gut was wide and made her hinds legs bowlegged, but they were strong still and enabled Jessica to putter around just enough to get in and out of the pool still.

While Jessica maintained some semblance of mobility, she was already paying the prices I remembered predicting long ago if she should breach beyond manageable obesity. She was already experiencing frequent bouts of breathlessness and difficulty breathing. She snored, loudly, and suffered from sleep apnea from her restricting and burdensome collar of flesh. There were more and more positive signs that her fat was being deposited not just around her chest and neck, but also within her ribcage, restricting her lungs' ability to expand and putting pressure on her overburdened heart. This condition was manifest in Mary too, but Jessica's body-type just exasperated the condition. Also, Jessica had gained far more quickly than Mary (though now her gain rate was dropping off from difficulty reaching food). As a result she had developed a cardiac condition that, while not life threatening, was severe enough as to not bode well for her continued well being.

Still for all of my cattle's degrading conditions, I was far more concerned with Mary. She was magnificent beyond compare. She ascended to BCS 17 within a couple months after Hollie deserted me. At my gentle urging and careful design of diet, Mary managed to breach BCS 18 within that last two months. She was behemoth and not only that, but she was "healthy." Her heart rate was rapid, as if she were walking at a steady rate as opposed to laying in a pool of her own fat, but this was not unexpected nor was it particularly harmful. It was simply how her heart was able to deal with pumping blood for several times her regular body weight's worth of flesh. Mary breathed relatively easily, though she had been on oxygen for several months now. Her airways were clear (with minor corrective surgery) and she did not suffer overly much from sleep apnea. Her most distant flanks were still warm to the touch and she showed no signs of diabetes; she was all I could have hoped for.

Early in February, I took it upon myself to help ease Mary's burden. She had become nearly impossible to feed, at least in the volumes that she demanded of me, just as had Bessie before her. On February 2, I performed my first of a series of major operations on Mary. I installed a feeding tube into her neck, at roughly the same position as I did on Bessie all those years ago. However, I found myself with far more resources at hand that I did over half a decade previously. I had better tools with which to operate to more easily perform complex surgeries deeper into her body and with less risk. This time, "The Feeder" as I liked to think of it was more than a simple pump with a timed AC switch. It was a sophisticated piece of equipment, capable of storing almost three days of a specially designed feed that I had been working on for the better part of a year. It received signals from sensors which I was able to deliver to the lining of her complex digestive system. Each sensor was able to ping its location in space and transmit a wide selection of useful information. With the network in place, I could know everything I wanted to know about Mary's gastrointestinal health. There was no trial and error now in the programming of her daily intake, the machine detected when the stomach was filled to reasonable capacity and when she was ready for more. My diet was a moist paste, containing mostly partially digested cellulotic material for the health of her rumen. It contained all the nutrients she needed and all of the water she required. The rest (roughly 25% of the volume) was loaded with carbohydrates and unsaturated fats, all specially selected to be almost totally absorbed by her body with maximum efficiency.

Now Mary was limited in her gains only to how fast I specifically prescribed. Right now she was at about 62% of her ability to absorb food stuffs, I increased the percentage by one every two weeks to give her time to adjust.

Along with the feeding tube, I installed a more internal device in the same general vicinity of the tube (to minimize scaring). The device was a modified blood oxygenator that I was able to "acquire" from a local hospital for a modest under-the-counter fee. The device was not designed to go into the body, as it weighed nearly 28lbs, but I coated it with a non-bioreactive material and set it deep into her neck. It hooked up with the Jugular which carries blood from her head to her heart. Normally, it is attached to the Aorta, which carries blood away from the heart to the rest of the body, but I wasn't able or willing to cut that deeply into her. The next best thing was to oxygenate her blood on its way to the lungs, only to have them further enrich it in their limited capacity. This way, her blood is maximally enriched with oxygen as it leaves her heart. While the machine is far too bulky to fit into a creature (even one as large as a cow), and is normally used adjacent to the body during surgery, I was able to create a large cavity amongst her generous portions of adipose. Mary was so obese at this point, that even a large piece of equipment like this goes unnoticed, and barely felt, amidst the general blobiness. A small oxygen tank was attached to a node I installed inside the deep crevasse between her fatty collar and her upper back. I changed both this one and the smaller one that supplied her nose mask daily regardless of how much was left.

A few weeks later, after she had recovered from these alterations to her body, I reattached the end of her colon to a more accessible point above her hips and carefully concealed under her ample loin. This was a necessity, from my point of view, for proper hygiene. Bessie's rectum had eventually become covered with fat and I had no desire to relive those incredibly dirty last days. Now, while lacking muscle control, Mary's bowels emptied into a large 15gal container that I carefully, and quietly requisitioned from a designer plastics company. The container was molded to fit snugly under the folds on both sides of her loin, forming a large U-shaped container. The container did noticeably increase the height of her loin, but this was only an improvement as far as I was concerned, the gigantic curtains that fell down over her thighs would only become more prolific and better hide the implant. In this way, I had seized control of Mary's digestive system, transforming it into an efficient machine equally capable of transforming Mary's body spectacularly.

I spent all of my free time with Mary, even to the point of neglecting my other cows, though thankfully, not yet my work (though Mary often had me so lusty now that I could hardly stand performing my menial and repetitive tasks on the computer in my house). Today, like most days, I was there admiring Mary's body and what it was becoming, my goddess of excess reborn. Her skin was still stretched tight from the first two months on "The Feeder." In my zeal I had her gain closer to her maximum than she was currently receiving and her body had trouble placing the flood of extra reserves, as a result she wore stretch marks for the first time since she had been bringing new calves into the world, and these were not the result of new life within her but the accumulation of her greed, strangling her body. Yes, Mary is a pig, a hog, the biggest one of them all. I thought, painfully aroused at this revelation, She wanted it and now she's getting it, alls she wants and more, I cannot deny her. My God, she is beautiful, breathtaking, even as her weight takes the breath from her. I'll help her, I'll be there for her, even as her weight takes everything from her. She'll love it even more than Bessie did.

Similar sadistic and pleasurable thoughts ran through my fevered mind as I devoured her body with my eyes. Mary was definitely in BCS 18, even if it was a newly acquired trait. Even more than Jessica, Mary's 8,700lbs found enough weight to spare encasing her neck in fat. She had a height to width ratio of 3.8 but her limbs were thoroughly buried. Each of her thin lower limbs had dug its own crevasse in her flesh, leaving her fattened upper limbs barely recognizable from the surrounding sagging flesh. Her black and white pattern was stretched beyond recognition from earlier photographs. Her bare pink skin was visible all over her body, even on the black patches. The white hairs were nigh invisible over the meters of dimpled pink skin. She had a very flattened tear drop shape, her flanks expanding out of her sides with ferocity, skin still stretched tight over barely manageable reservoirs of adipose. She had over fifteen feet of nearly level plains on either side of her spine. They rose gently, nearly imperceptivity, to the mounds of her back and loin. Like Bessie, Mary had a propensity to store in her upper back, it was only slightly larger than her loin and formed a deep ridge where they collided, but I was already imagining the massive hump that would form and eventually consume the rest of her back. Her tail was barely mobile, being fairly pinned by encroaching fat from over her tail head. She was able to swish it gently, rubbing fur against fur above and below, but lifting it was almost out of the question. Her striped tail spread out over the balloon between her legs, this sac had also not been neglected. Her fattened thighs weighed heavily on it, but the fat here fought for inches of height under the tail. The skin which had once stretched down to her udder, now ballooned up to her vulva, nearly covering it. I reattached her urinary system to the large unseen container as well, but the lack of access to her vagina had disappointed me somewhat. I reassured myself with the thought that no matter how fat she got, I could still pleasure her there with my arm, and there were other ideal places for me on her body and more appeared with every quarter ton she put on. The flesh between her legs shot out nearly eight feet from between her hidden legs, Mary's udder long absent from view. Now freed from being pinned by her hind legs, this part of her body fused with her flanks as it widened from underneath her trapped legs and began forming a neat oval shape when viewed from above. There were deep valleys leading from the crevasse which contained her hind legs to the floor, but I had no doubt that these would fill out with time and as Mary was raised further and further off the ground. Mary had a large fat hump over her upper back at the base of her neck just like Jessica's. However, Mary's was much more well developed. Her collar stretched down to near the floor, cushioned on top of her brisket. Her neck hungrily devoured Mary's head little by little, forming a crease nearly halfway up her cheeks. Her ears were partially buried at the base and she was becoming hard of hearing. Her heavy eyebrows weighed down on her eyes and her cheeks stretched and sagged into her neck. Cushioned from below by her neck, Mary could barely open her jaw now, unless I aided her by pressing down the flesh underneath her mouth. Her fused neck and fore-chest stretched out over five feet before her; looking right at her, it was almost like a glorious pedestal leading up to her ridiculously small appearing head amidst the rest of her body.

Still I lavished and slaved upon my goddess, cleaning her, dressing her body in the oils and lotions her skin demanded to remain luscious. I never tired of the work, despite being even more repetitive than what awaited me on my computer nearly everyday. In many ways, caring for Mary was easier than it ever had been. I no longer had to deal with removing her waste as it came out of her, I simply removed and replaced a container. No longer did I struggle to feed Mary as the fat invaded her mouth and made feeding a difficult, if not painful experience for her. I could even look at a three-dimensional representation of her gut and intestines, seeing them engorged with the food they were ever processing.

I reached into her folds to clean and care for her embedded limbs. Her hooves still needed regular trimmings to avoid cutting into the soft skin that surrounded them and all of the bunched skin around her limbs made skin conditions and ingrown hairs more prevalent. As I tended to her hind legs, I noticed that they had curled up as much as they could against her fat thighs, indeed it was the flesh that drooped down from them that covered the limbs, though this fat melded easily with the surrounding folds that dropped in from her loin above. Long underused, the legs were stiff and atrophied, though not in the least slimmed. I often heard Mary moan from deep within her throat when I stretched them to clean under and around the now unnecessary limbs. I did my best to massage and exercise them for her, but there was no replacement for walking and standing. I found Mary's front legs buried as they were between her fore-chest and the fat that built up on her ribs. They were not curled, however, they were held out before her, almost as if her fore-chest was not there and she were resting her arms on the fat that came from under her chest. These were also atrophied, thought not to the extent of her hindlegs, however, she was less able to move these because of the excess surrounding flesh. They were so buried I could hardly reach them now; and I grew aroused at the thought of needing specialized tools to care for her submerged limbs.

I saw less and less of a reaction as I brushed Mary's expanding skin. Once her skin had shivered almost every time I applied my brush to her sensitive skin, now she would do that perhaps once in an entire session. Her near endless skin contained a geography of it's own, despite its apparent smoothness. Her yard length and more stretch marks traveled up and down her torso like mountain ranges, spiting and fusing across her flanks from the ground to her back. In areas of less extensive growth, the skin was dimpled, smooth and softer to the touch, I thought of these like her oceans, perpetually smooth and calm. Areas where the skin bunched and folded in on itself were where the ground was in upheaval, where characteristics of her previous body fought its failing battle to preserve form and structure on the escalating smoothness that fat demanded. More and more, Mary became my world, to the exclusion of most everything else.

Mary was hardly capable of doing anything at all. She could nudge her head around to one side or the other, but this cost most of her strength and was immediately pushed back so it was not worth the effort. The sound of her own heartbeat drowned out most of the outside sounds, only the loudest were not muffled by the screen of fat that had taken hold of even her ears. Mary was in almost constant discomfort by her atrophied limbs, stiff and aching even as the muscle withered and joints continued to be pressed out of position. Yes, Mary was hardly capable of anything at all (besides continuing to grow) let alone resisting.

She had never realized that things would go so far. She had been long aware that Rodney, her mate, enjoyed seeing her eat, grew more passionate and attentive after large meals. Even when she reached to point where she could no longer walk on her own, she sought her partner's attention, learned what pleased him. So when he began increasing her portions, urging her to eat until she was sick and then a little more, she had done so out of love. It had taken years, but finally, Mary made the connection between eating and her body's expansion. But by then it was too late, she no longer had control over what she ate, the machine whirred every hour on the hour and the pressure inside her built until she was sure that she needed to throw up, but nothing ever came. Mary had thought she would have surely died long before she had gotten to this point and she was aware that only Rodney's efforts kept her alive, and growing. As the outside world retreated slowly from her, Mary relied on sleep to get by, eighteen hours a day or more. Every time she awoke, the world seemed more distant, sensations from impossible locations far from where her skin should be informed her that she was still alive, still trapped. Mary did not precisely wish for death, but she did wish for an end. Memories of outside the barn were foggy now, but she remembered it had been better then, when she had been able to interact with her partner. For now she extracted what pleasure she could from the time that Rodney spent with her, rejoicing when he entered her slim view of the world; still she wondered when it would end, if ever.

May 1, 2045:

There came a visitor into my world, one whom I had thought I would never see again.

One morning, as I was going about my chores, I saw a cow strolling lightly down my driveway. My mind froze, my routine broken, so long repeated, I was at a loss at what to do as Hollie came back to me. Contrary to the anger that I had cultivated over the near year since she left, the first emotion that hit my stunned brain was joy. Next to come was grief.

Emotions were tugging at the sheet of fantasy that I'd carefully laid over my life. I didn't want to, couldn't face having sanity once again thrust upon me; I shot down my emotions, struggled to remember how it was Hollie who had abandoned me, left me in the mess I was in now.

All the while as I tore at myself, the cow strode closer and I could soon see that it was not Hollie after all. For one, she was quite a bit heavier than I remembered her being, and a little bit taller at the withers. Her neck was a bit longer and her patterning didn't match my few unsoured memories of her. No, this isn't Hollie, I thought as relief flooded me, only to be replaced by confusion.

I was about to raise my fists to my forehead as I struggled to remember, when the intruder was upon me. She lowered her head briefly and mooed quietly and politely. Despite months of neglect, I was still able to recognize a greeting in the language Hollie and her children were creating.

"Lauren?" I ventured.

The cow shook her head briskly and looked up at me expectantly.

"Cathleen, right?"

Cathleen nodded her head and moved closer to embrace me with her neck.

I was limp, but the moment she touched me and her scent welled up buried memories even in my weak nose, I threw my arms around her neck and squeezed her tightly. Tears came to my eyes unbidden, but I rubbed them off in her coat before she could notice. Still, as memories of her came, so too did a monumentous pain, it tugged in my chest, as if seeking to implode it from within. I severed the link once more as I composed myself, but each time it grew more difficult to suppress what I didn't want to feel, what I didn't want to see.

I turned my head and coughed as I revitalized my mask. Here was a visitor, one that brought no joy, but no pain either. I should entertain her for a while and then escort her on her way. If Cathleen noticed my change in demeanor, she didn't respond. She obviously had something to tell me. Together we walked into the barn and though I led, I noticed how her eyes darted around, soaking in my farm, paying close attention to both Matthew and Kristy lounging out in the yard. Still she said not a word, nor attempted to.

When we were inside the barn, I heard Lauren take a sharp intake of breath as she saw Jennifer upon her palet, asleep, but laid out in all her glory. No doubt impressed and envious of her great aunt. I thought. Her gaze also lingered on Kristy, laying down on her gut in front of a lowered trough slurping and swallowing grain like water. I let Lauren into her old stall and dusted off the old monitor. I reached up and turned on the old laptop from his old place on a high shelf, I tried my best not to look into the adjacent stall where I knew the remains of the monitor on which Hollie's last letter to me was displayed still lay on year old straw.

As we waited for the computer to start up, Lauren nudged my arm and gestured to the loose straps of the interface which hung on a hook near the monitor and then to the closet what I kept my supplies. Realization dawned on me that by now the fur on her head where the contacts go would have grown back by now. I nodded to her and left, returning with my blade and a small amount of cream. She didn't flinch as I shaved the dime sized contact points clear of fur. That task complete, Lauren began immediately by using the voice program I had rigged together shortly before Hollie's "departure."

"Hollie sent me." Cathleen began, "She told me to tell you that we are all fine and survived the winter with minimal hardship. The forest is lush and provides for us well and we have only grown stronger and fitter for our trials last winter."

"Yes, I gathered that already as you're here with no one else and haven't quite," I said, pinching a roll of fat up from her smooth neck, "completely lost your figure."

Cathleen frowned, as much as a cow can, and took a step back from me. "I didn't come here for pleasantries. I came to check on you. Hollie is genuinely worried about you, heavens know why; I can see you haven't changed a bit."

"You need help, Rodney." Cathleen said as she thrust her snout to the central area of the barn. "Look at them! You said you would manage their weight. Both of them are obviously lame."

"Kristy can still get around." I countered.

Cathleen furrowed the eyebrows above her eyes which were just the tiniest bit closer together than they should have been on a normal bovine; her contempt was obvious. She shook her head and the speakers issued her voice at full volume, but I could tell she was muttering to herself, "I can't imagine what you've done to my grandmother."

I reached out to touch her face, but she jerked away from me. I pulled back my hand as if burned.

"I'm the last person to force you to get help, only you can do that, but can't you see that this is wrong? Fantasy is a good thing, a really good thing, but there are some things best left in one's thoughts; can you understand that at all?

"Mother loved you, you know, still loves you. It hurt her to see you slipping from reality, and it broke her heart to have to leave you." Cathleen shook her head, "I'm going to hate telling her how far you've gone. Now take this off me, I'm leaving and don't you dare try to keep me from going, the others know where I've gone and are more now than you can hope to manage yourself."

I wilted under her words and her fury. My hands moved as if in a dream and I stood by watching my self unhook her and open the doors that stood in her way. I was empty and said not a word as I stood in the door of the barn and watched Cathleen walk up the driveway and out of sight.

July 14, 2048:

Only two cows were left alive on my "farm" at this point and I felt that my escape into fantasy had rapidly turned into nightmare.

Jessica's death had been unexpected. Late in the same summer that Lauren had come to visit me, and after gaining over three hundred more pounds, video recordings showed that Jessica slipped into the pool (rather strenuously) while I was away on one of my infrequent grocery trips. It was sad watching her die, she was able to get into the pool, but lack the strength to get out. It was the first time she had tried getting in the pool in a month and I wasn't aware of the danger until I found her corpse in the pool, floating upside down while tears flowed endlessly down Mary's cheeks as she laid on the floor, blood dripping from the grooves where her hooves were hidden. I didn't know why Jessica didn't attempt to beach her head on a higher portion of the ramp into the pool to save herself until my return. The solution was so obvious. Instead, Jessica had swam panicked around the pool, trying to lift her chest up onto the ramp the way she normally did, but then trying futilely all around the edges of the pool. She swam until her strength left her and her body inverted, leaving her head below the waterline. I forced myself to not despair at what had happened, to see this as the end of yet another failed genetic experiment. If Jessica had been smarter, she would have survived; there is no shame in the fact that she didn't survive, she was, after all, spade, a genetic dead-end.

I buried Jessica properly, her grave a mole hill next to the hill raised over Bessie. I gave her a tombstone with her name, but for the life of me, I couldn't find a meaningful phrase to sum up her life and death, so I left it blank.

Jennifer left me early in the next year after a slow and miserable decline in health. Rather than her heart, it was her digestive problems that killed her. She began having debilitating stomach cramps, as far as I could tell and suddenly started taking food meagerly and then not at all. I used nearly my whole store of morphine treating her, hoping against hope that this would be a temporary condition. The pain killers merely delayed the inevitable. All at once, she dropped over 200lbs. Her wasting brought forth a condition that I had hoped gone from my strain of bovines, Fat Cow Syndrome. Technically, this describes a range of different symptoms, but the one that killed Jennifer was Ketoacidosis. As her body metabolized her fat, enmasse, she released ketones into her blood. Normally these are filtered out by the kidneys, but at the rate she was burning her fat, she simply couldn't remove all of them; not to mention that she was old and not at all in the best of health. She didn't have a chance, not even if I had a dialysis machine; her blood pH turned acidic and all of her major organs began to fail. I was too cowardly to face her as she died and couldn't even bring myself to euthanize her. Jennifer died very slowly and very painfully.

Again, I tried to rationalize her death, after all it was expected and I had wanted signs to look for, for Mary's sake. Despite this argument, I gathered little useful data to help Mary. After all, Jennifer's death was ultimately caused by a gastrointestinal problem that I have eliminated from Mary with my specially designed diet. Undoubtedly, however, the data relating to Jennifer's inherited heart condition would help me with Mary in years to come. Jennifer was thankfully still on her palette when she died and made her removal and burial much easier.

Kristy died before Thanksgiving in 2047, this time I couldn't deny that my neglect of my other cows beside Mary was at fault. She became immobile early that year after her weight climbed up over 3,900lbs. A light weight, in my opinion, to be rendered incapable of moving, but it seemed that her defect was worse than I had previously thought. Nearly all of her weight hit her belly and thighs, leaving her brisket and neck deprived. It was more than comical now, she honestly looked deformed with her hind legs splayed wide and so engorged with fat that she couldn't budge them, while her chest and neck looked like they could fit on a normal Holstein (albeit, a very fat one). Unbeknownst to me, especially since I seemed to have only time for Mary with the recent deaths driving me further and further into my Goddess of Excess, Kristy had developed an infection on the inside of her right thigh, the one she sat on. I have no idea what caused it, most probably an ingrown hair or some rash from when she occasionally tried to move. What was important was that it went unnoticed until she started having a severe fever. A cursory inspection quickly revealed a rank stench that could not be accounted for by manure. It took time to find it, but when I did, I lost hope. I didn't know how long she had had the infection, but it was likely months, it was simply rampant. Necrotic flesh and pus filled swaths of flesh as large as dinner plates. Almost the entire inside thigh was destroyed and an even larger area on her belly was damaged. I had no choice but to amputate the leg (it wasn't a difficult decision, she hadn't left the barn in over a year). I scooped out literally gallons of dead fat out of her abdomen and I despaired at how deep the infection had spread. Even when I closed her up, and pumped her with antibiotics, I had little hope. Showing fever from a skin infection meant it had spread to her blood. She died in her sleep from internal hemorrhaging from the infection.

At this point I felt like I was being punished. I knew the cause rested with me alone, but it felt better to think of the source of my pain as coming from outside. I gave no name to this punisher, but I found myself swearing under my breath at it whenever I dropped a bucket of grain, whenever I poured sour milk on my cereal and whenever a rock got into my boot. I thought that I was going insane, but much later I realized that I had been more insane earlier and that this struggle was, in fact, that of a return to reality.

At the time though, I began to sink totally into my fetish. I took less time at work, even though I should have been working harder to speed up my retirement date. Slowly, I began bringing my deepest fantasies out into physical manifestation. Mary was my idol, but she also became my toy. I scripted marvelous plays to dominate her and sexually entice me. I needed no ropes to bind her, pinned by her ever increasing weight as she was, but I spoke dirty to her, began to insult her and slap her. Granted I was always careful not to take things to the point of actually hurting her, but the fear in her eyes began to thrill me as much as her expanding body did.

Samantha's death is still somewhat of a mystery to me. Always weak and mild, but possessed of a strong appetite, Samantha bloated past 3,200lbs. She could walk, but just barely. She grew incredibly lethargic, not moving for days on end from the food trough and sleeping at all hours of the day. This spring, she contracted some sort of flu bug. Instead of responding to medication, however, she grew worse and worse. Her fever roasted her alive and she died kicking and tossing and screaming in hallucination. Out of all the tragic deaths so far on the farm, I was most comfortable with Samantha's. It was the easiest of them all to convince myself that it wasn't my fault. She got a disease and died, I had nothing to do with it. I thought. Her autopsy and blood tests were all inconclusive, it was like I hadn't given her body medication at all, or that she didn't have an immune system for all the reaction to what was, in fact, a simple cold virus. And so despite assuredly not causing her death, the mystery nagged at the back of my fractured mind always.

Now, in the present, both of my remaining cows (well one cow and one bull) had a barn all to themselves. Matthew had yet to succumb to any misfortune or health condition, but a lack of leptin and no inhibition towards overeating had rather robbed the young bull's masculinity from him.

I sat on my porch watching Matthew paced along the field, grazing, moving his 3,300lbs gracefully. This was a bull in no condition to reproduce in any way other than donating sperm. His small horns detracted from his image rather than enhancing his strength and fighting prowess. His belly was not tight at all, but sagged rather like an obese dog's, limp and waving with every step he took. Still, he had become bowlegged, probably to avoid crushing the sensitive organ between his fattened thighs. His sheath was stretched taught across his flab so that you could not tell it was there amidst the folds except for the hole where the exit was. His scrotum and one testicle were safely hidden between his wide thighs which touched together down to his knees. When he lifted his head, his wide brisket flapped eagerly as did his developing jowls under his puffy cheeks. His broad back was smooth and rounded like a barrel all the way where it raised into the small mound of his loin.

At least he is well marbled. I laughed internally, Though I imagine I couldn't even get a good price for him as so much lard would have to be trimmed away as to negate the value of his meat.

Despite the grimness of these thoughts, I turned to what they would do with all that lard if I ever decided to sell Mathew to be butchered. Not knowing much about the meat industry, I thought I'd know what I'd do with it and that turned my thoughts to Mary, beautiful, luscious, divine, Mary. I could imagine her absorbing Matthew's fat like a drop of water into a cup. I imagined what Mary might look like if I had fed her the fat from all of the cows who were now gone and I shuddered with pleasure. Discarding my soft drink, I felt the sudden urge to "relieve" myself. I walked the short path into the big barn.

A cold blast of air conditioned, yet properly moisturized, air escaped as I slipped into a world that was more real to me than the one I had left behind. Nagging thoughts of sane guilt and pain that troubled me constantly outside faded in here, here I was at peace and I felt conviction in the rightness of my passion.

I thought, "Mary is so lucky to have me to care for her and satisfy her desires." As I gazed upon her burgeoning form.

Mary was now an impressive sight for any and all viewers, perhaps not all would not view her in esteem, but the mere shock value is enough. Mary lay in a deep, four foot high puddle of herself that spread out in all directions for yards and yards. She was mostly pink from her unsunned and barely coated skin. Her black patches created faint contrast that only enhanced the visualization of her girth. The tarp that had supported both her and her mother for so long was gone from sight, but I knew it was actually totally covered by Mary's own tarp-like body. The machine which fed her was suspended now from the motor that had once supported the tarp. It was necessary to avoid either placing it onto her sensitive skin or absurdly elongating the feeding hose.

Where the hose led to was a tiny protrusion on the higher mound of her body that rose from the nearly level sea of her flanks rather like an island. From this distance the tiny protrusion was rather like a pimple, but it was in fact her snout. It was located on the side of the large, nine foot high mound that indicated where her body was buried in her sea of fat. Mary's head had been consumed by her neck at last. I had tried some minor reductive surgery to preserve her sight a couple years ago, however, it was not nearly enough the stop the relentless tide of adipose that slipped over and then fell onto her forehead. From then, its been inching its way up her snout, leaving only her nose and her oxygen mask visible. Her mouth is buried by her own neck fat that flows out and down into the level fat that stretches many more feet in front of her. The tube is located a couple feet away to the right of her snout and plunges into the amorphous fat.

Nothing remains to be seen of Mary's body, aside from her snout, except hints for those who know what to look for. From the level fat around her, a vaguely oval shaped mass arises several more feet in the center of her "body." The mound is covered with creases, many of which travel far into the surrounding fat, but all of which are eventually smoothed out. Sacs upon sacs of limp, useless flesh find anchorage on Mary's buried skeleton and muscles. Most slopes approaching the mound of her body are gentle, rising slowly with dimpled pink flesh where it isn't streaked with stretch marks. Other places, like the folds of flab that are anchored to her shoulders and loin feet below them have steep cliffs and deep lines. The deepest lines and the valleys of the glorious mountain that Mary has become are formed by her long imprisoned legs. One of her legs at least, has created a mimicry of a vast belly button, sucking into the flesh in an isolated nook under her shoulder mounds and spewing out lines from a central point. The others are buried as if in snowdrifts or avalanches, a deep line, seemingly no different from the rest conceals a secret limb inside; but this is the unpredictability of adipose and I admire my goddess's irregularity.

Far from regular are the molten heaps of fat flowing from her shoulders and loin like volcanic eruptions caught in mid-moment. I've catalogued Mary's body extensively, even taking time from work to explore her curves. Her shoulders possess three major globes of fat and at least seven minor ones. Two of the globes move back from her head in their combined assault on the loin, dominating it and forcing it underneath themselves. The third is a major heap, a singular limp bubble of flesh that is wayward in that it lazily creeps into her neck's territory, bouncing off to the side on her left side to pile and grow on top of the near level flesh at the base of the mountain.

The loin's activities are nearly invisible underneath the supervision of her shoulders, but from my regular explorations while cleaning her, Mary's loin doesn't show much activity underneath. Instead, the loin has consented to lift Mary's shoulders up high (her second major globe is the highest peak on her body) as well as run off her rear end as a river. Like a landslide, the loin has run off in the direction of her tail, but it has found that there isn't really much distance to drop from the fat exploding from the fork of her entombed legs. Her tail, an ancient relic lost under her shifted flesh, points roughly in the direction in which her loin's only major globe travels and expands. Although bubbling from her hips in great mounds and heaps, almost none have coalesced and grouped into a smooth bubble worth regard. Instead, Mary's loin is like a pebbled curtain draped over the lower reaches of her mountainous body, one smooth expanding patch alone dominates the wrinkled, disorganized skin around it.

From the opposite end, Mary's "chins" (as I like to think of them) are not a chaotic mass for all their wrinkled appearance. Using her immobilized neck as support, Mary boasts numerous collars, spreading in concentric half circles from her chin halfway down to the level plain. The rolls separating the creased rings grow wider and fuller as they drop down level by level, the creases deepen as well. A cascading waterfall of supple pink flesh and soft down-like fur spread like ripples down her front. The soft creases are terminated on the left by the invasion of Mary's folded heap of shoulder fat. On the right, they travel farther up into her upper reaches. The smaller ones near her head make it up farthest before smoothing out into shoulder fat, the lower, heavier ones can't climb as high and either terminate in smooth shoulder fat or dissolve into wrinkles, loosing their coordination and direction, instead traveling downwards into her brisket like falling rain on the slopes.

Although her "chins" reach quite far down towards the sea, the remainder is a journey for her brisket. Mary's brisket is a comeback story as I had thought it long dominated by the expanding rings from her neck. However, since she climbed up past 10,000lbs almost two ago, it made a new emergence. I don't know if her new, permanently fixed body changed anything, but her brisket now swells up from under her collars of fat supporting the pedestal that leads up to her head. There are few if any divisions in the brisket for all its previous malleability. The upward pressure has likely smoothed out any that might have emerged, but I liked to think that it instead possessed increased resolve from fighting out from under her neck. It was far from smooth, however, none of the creases were major, most hardly more than half a hand's breadth deep. The lines fell roughly vertically, a mild disorder from the neat and precise order above. The very last roll of her collars was over a foot deep and arched around her Mary's neck about 80° before slipping under the one on top of it on both sides. It jutted out just a few inches over the swell of the brisket, creating a small cliff face despite the fact that the brisket crawled out wider around the base of the mountain than her collars. Here, as in the past, was to be found the softest flesh on Mary's body at least at the very base of the mountain. Here the folds meandered as if probing a way to continue into the ocean surrounding them. Generally, they sloped away from the head, but there were many exceptions. Often now, this too was where I slept. At the outer edges of her brisket, the flesh was sometimes as thin as half a foot and it pulled and molded easily. I always slept here naked, her brisket my comforter; even here, six feet and more from her chest, I would fall asleep to the steady, if rather quick, thud of her heart and her somewhat labored breaths.

Yes, I devoured her with my eyes, as if someone as small as me could ever devour that. Mary, who had started out with her withers well below the level of my shoulders, now towered over me. Over nine and a half feet tall and 43 feet wide across her flanks. Somehow I was already out of my cloths as I approached the edge of her ocean. If I could have waded into her, I'd be chest deep even in her outer reaches. I clamored on top of her, wisely from the direction of her flanks. Here the skin was relatively taught, forcing itself against its containment from the skin. Here also, stretch marks were the more prevalent, a spider's collogue of twisting pale lines. As I moved I thought about all the sacks of grain, all the bales of straw and grass my greedy partner had devoured to form this landscape of a body. And still, insurmountable as the volume of food she had consumed seemed even to be imagined, all I thought of was giving Mary all she wanted and more, forcing morsel after morsel if I had to down her gullet. Even so immersed in fantasy, my doctor orientated mind took care to observe what I could about Mary's condition.

Here at the outer reaches, her skin was pallid and lacking life, it was nearly as pale as the stretch lines across its surface. Bruises and sores healed slowly here from lack of blood flow from her distant heart, so I moved carefully, aware that if I pressed down too firmly, she would be weeks in healing even that minor and easily caused bruise. Still past mistakes haunted me almost everywhere I cared to look, nothing serious, but marring her flesh all the same. The skin was as cool to the touch as the air around me despite the fact that I could feel the heat given off by the mountain ahead of me even here. I crept forward on hands and knees up the gentle slope, spreading my weight across my upper arms and lower legs to not only sink less deeply but to avoid damage to my beloved.

As I crawled forward, I felt the icy coolness of the fat supporting me and gave serious thought to raising the temperature in the barn, however, her heavily insulated inner body was at odds with this. Last year, I had felt her sweating in only 78°F, her upper flanks had been a furnace. So I kept the barn a more chilly 69°F, and she had been fine so far, but I still worried about her lower flanks as I climbed. The designation between the lower ocean and the mountain is far from distinct from the direction I approached, however, I soon managed to cross some ten feet of pale undernourished fat into the "life-zone" as I thought of it at the base of the mountain. The slope increased subtly as I approached what had once been her back. Her skin pinkened and felt more lively, stronger and more springy, fresher and better supplied fat cells as they emerged from her core. Despite the increased slope, I traveled more quickly to my destination, grabbing handfuls of thick healthy fat as I climbed. More dramatically the slope climbed as I came up on her shoulder globes.

With great effort, I pulled myself up to straddle a minor globe emerging from under the shadow of the two which beat down the loin. I honestly didn't care so much that the loin had robbed me of access to Mary's vagina (though I felt worse for the loss of her own pleasure) for nearly endless possibilities awaited me in this landscape of folds and creases. So much potential was there, that I made a silly pact with myself to never insert myself into her in the same place twice. I had broken this rule many, many times, but still the thought and half-hearted commitment was there. I honestly wasn't sure that I hadn't ejaculated on the trip up here, after all my groin was in near constant contact with the "floor" the entire time I crawled. Even so, desire had not abated as I came up to this nexus of her body.

I can't say how many times I masturbated into her various creases and folds there and then, but I can say that eventually I was sated but still my mind hungered for more exotic means of stimulation even though my body was satisfied. Moving gingerly, I climbed a bit higher into healthy, yet unstable fat. I would sink to my knees in her soft embrace if I stood, but I couldn't manage the balance even if I wanted to. Instead, I grabbed hold of her first major shoulder globe, the largest of them all and slid my feet underneath. The crease devoured them hungrily as I thrust deeper and deeper into her, waist deep and then chest deep. I wormed my way in under the titanic glacial flow of fat until I was gone completely.

I knew this groove well and it only increased the quality of its embrace as time wore on. Hundreds of pounds of fat bore down on my body, I pretended that I was a helpless fly caught in Mary's web, switching roles of dominance in my mind. She pressed down on me as I wriggled deeper under her fat, until the very breath seemed to be crushed out of me and the exit seemed desperately far away. Moving to another less intense area and slipping my arm out from under the fold to relieve myself with some fresh air, I pretended that I was Mary's baby, back in her womb, it was certainly warm enough under here. I pushed forward headfirst, blind, enacted my symbolic birth, only to dive back in once I had freed myself.

Sometime later, I laid with my arms and head free from Mary's weight. I thought about what to do next while pushing absently up against the formless mass on my chest, just to see how much I could lift it. The feeding machine above whirred to life as it deposited yet more of the green paste into my lover. That is when I heard a faint sound, so very faint it could hardly be heard and yet I felt it all around me as if it were very loud indeed. Hollie? I thought, my thoughts of pleasure abandoned at the emergence of this puzzle. I hadn't had any indication that Mary was even aware of anything besides touch for months and months before. I pulled myself out of the crevasse and made my way to her front, halfway between a mountain climber and a spider.

I reached the protruding nodule of her snout just as the line of green paste began to enter the fat alongside it from the long tube. Again I heard and felt the sound in the fat around me and the fat I was holding onto shuddered momentarily. The sound was muffled and barely audible but I could make it out, Mary was whimpering. I've heard her groan and snort before, but this was the first time I'd noticed her whimpering (the first time I've wanted to notice). Mary still took heavy, fat strangled breaths, but each exhale she shuddered and the high pitched noise came from between her fat sealed lips. Sometime, her whimpering would have enticed me, but I wasn't prepared with a script, a ritual for this to fall under. This wasn't a game, this was the cold reality.

I still don't know what exactly made that moment the one that broke me. Perhaps it was all of the culminated misfortunes over the years, but now I felt the urge, not to shut out, but to explore. I climbed to her face like the edge of a cliffside. I kept one arm above, holding me to her front, while my feet navigated for purchase on her thin rolls under me. Eventually I situated myself close enough to reach her head, I had to know for sure the idea that had came to mind when I heard her whimpering, Was she suffering?

I lifted the heavy, thick fold of fat away from her face. With my arms outstretched, it took all my strength to clear a path to at least one of her eyes. The fat cleared away, Mary's eye looked at me for the first time this year down the long corridor of fat. It was so small, a shining blue gem, and yet what I saw horrified me. The eye was watery and blinked at the sudden light, but as I drew closer, I could see that she recognized me immediately. In her eye, I saw hate and fear that did not for a second thrill me, and so much pain, unimaginable suffering. Tears fell to well up into a small pool at the base of her eye and I knew that there was still love for me there, unimaginably she still loved me.

My mind's unfolding was like a shock to the senses. I fell backwards, and landed heavily at the base of Mary's brisket some three feet below. I tumbled down backwards over my head, limp, until I settled into icy coolness that made my naked body shiver.

How could I have done such a thing? Look at her! Good God, what have I done to my beloved? Trapped in her own body, no hope of escape, not even in death or so I've ensured for years to come.

I shook my head and wept. I wished for the Punisher to appear, to accept the blame, but there was no relief, only myself... and I realized for the first time that I was so lonely, so very lonely. I wished for my mother, I wished for someone... but I realized that I wished most for Hollie. Hollie who I loved, Hollie who was my student, my child, my lover, my Everything. I sobbed and wept for hours. When my tears ran dry, I laid very still wishing my very life would pass away as I laid there.

Endlessly time passed and despite my wishes, I didn't die. Thirst brought me back into reality, softly, and I realized that I was trying to escape again. All I had ever done was try to escape, from the world and even from myself. I realized then and there that it was no good to escape, there was never anywhere to hide, and running is not life. I got to my hands and knees and saw the enormous bruise my mere weight had cause on Mary's front as I'd lain there. My mind was made up, my resolve absolute, I would help Mary if I could, no matter if I needed to deny myself.

*November 18, 2049: *

I was slightly surprised when my sanity persisted after the first few weeks after my revelation. Indeed, I was robbed of not only my desire but, I feel, my ability to dive into fantasy as well. I was happy, not the imagined happiness I had flooded myself earlier with, but true actual happiness. I wasn't happy all the time, in fact, I grieved for the lost members of my family for quite some time, but the fact that I was able to grieve also made me happy in that I was connected to the real world once again. Matthew received a heavy prescription of Leptin right away, the small green patch affixed to his scrotum. In the intervening time, he's lost some 700lbs, though I've stopped caring to count figures. When he recovers his hourglass figure and his lost energy, then I'll be satisfied.

Mary, still the subject of my attention, for she needs incredible amounts of care still, has done wonders on her diet. First, I altered her feed to include less and less fat and grain extract, until there was none and I gradually began to reduce volume as well. In the first month, she was able to stop gaining, before I'd even reduced her feed's fat/grain level to half and her total volume to 90%. By the end of that year, I'd changed the feed to include only roughage and vital nutrients and dropped her intake to 75% of what she had previously been receiving. The change was startling and remarkable.

While she dropped nearly, to my estimations, 800lbs in the first couple months, she slowed down and stopped for a while. Undoubtedly, she had rid herself of some incredibly retained fluids. By late November of that year, the real fat began to fly. It came off slowly at first, as if her body was reluctant to set into reverse what it had been working so hard at all her life. After her first 100lbs or so, it started to come off more easily. Her body was way, way, above its "comfort-zone" of weight, or so I theorized, and hundreds of pounds more came off her.

As I groomed her, Mary was a changed cow. She received about 15% of her previous feed, still much more than a cow at a normal weight should probably eating, but it does no good to starve her. In fact, it was all I could do, over the course of this last year and more, to prevent ketoacidosis. A slow and steady weight loss regiment was key, with plenty to eat. She still wasn't taking food through her mouth, I still needed to see what long term damage had been done to her muscles and how the long term impact of the feeding tube may have affected her. Since January, Mary had lost over 500 additional pounds in addition to the 900 from last year. Granted most of last years efforts were retained fluid, but I believed that what Mary had lost this year was pure, unadulterated fat.

Now I knew that wasn't terribly much compared to what she weighs, but Mary isn't young anymore and I applauded her for what she could manage. Nearly all of her weight had come out of her "mountain," her still vibrantly living core. As a result, she was just as wide as before, in all directions, but the swelling of the central mound where her body is located has dropped considerably. Most clear are where her skin was most stretched, namely on either side of her spine, for feet in either direction, and also the swells of her shoulders and brisket. Her loin was deflating as well, becoming thinner, though the skin remained abundant.

For all that Mary might accomplish, I feared about what could be done about her excess skin the most. There was no easy solution, reductive surgery would be a long and arduous journey and would be extremely difficult with just one surgeon. I was afraid that Mary's aging body wouldn't be able to cope with the stress. In my madness, I had thought she would simply live forever; or if I didn't I did not think about her death at all. I shook my head, Mary would be 21 years old shortly, already she had lived longer (and arguably much harder) than had Jennifer. I know for certain only my constant vigilance has allowed her to live for so long so far. I feared how much longer she had until that wouldn't matter anymore.

In her favor, Mary was still quite fit, her 15,000lbs or more still limited her to the point of only being capable of making muffled noises and flaring her nostrils, but she was a fighter, as I always knew she was. She had been in a depression for goodness knows how long, but now as she dropped pounds daily, she rejuvenated as much as was possible under her conditions. I lifted her fat eyebrows often for her to see and parted the fold that buried her ears so she could hear me, I even attempted to stimulate her buried limbs, though for what good that had done, I didn't know; Mary had yet to show me she could so much as wiggle them.

Eventually, I realized the extent of the damage to her limbs as I grew more and more curious about them. Through many tests, I was certain that both her hind legs were severely dislocated. Both legs were even with the hips, splayed unnaturally outwards as the fat forced them apart. I couldn't imagine the pain she must had endured, might still be enduring and I grew sorrowful on her behalf. The situation was similar, but not as severe in her front limbs, they were, after all, more flexible. Still, the possibility that she would ever walk again under her power faded to nil at this revelation.

Occasionally, especially as I cleaned her, the desire to make Mary fatter came back. I thought it was like the craving of a drug addict and at first, I tried to deny all impulses. I quickly realized that I simply couldn't work on Mary's body and not become extremely aroused. It took until one night when my gaze fell upon the old BCS poster I had made so many years ago, that I realized that this was a part of who I was, what made me, me. In that light, I knew that the urges themselves weren't wrong, it was forcing those urges onto another living being, shaping them against their own desires that was wrong. In that light, and in recognition to what had brought me to this enlightening conclusion, I added the following to the poster with an additional scrap of poster board, along with a recent photo of Mary and one at her peak weight.

BCS 19: "Unkind" Let me begin this last entry for the BCS chart by saying that this level of obesity is not feasibly attainable without extensive medical intervention. For the most part, this is a case study as I believe that there is no other cow out in the world who has had the misfortune of being so fattened. This is also my confession. I deeply regret what I have done to my cow, Mary; she suffered greatly for no reason other than to fulfill my warped fantasies. I realize now that my fetish is related more to the act of gaining weight than the fat itself. I never was, nor could have been, completely satisfied with her weight as she was my primary sexual object.

As of this writing, Mary is well on her way to recovering some amount of her previous health and ability to move. She will never walk again, but I hope that she might regain mobility in her neck and perhaps swim again someday.

At her heaviest, Mary weighed well over 16,000 pounds. I am not completely sure because I was unable to lift her onto the scale. I would guess somewhere in the 16,700's. I have no doubt in my mind that Mary would have been capable of exceeding 20,000 lbs, but what would that prove? I have seen for myself that the shape of the body does not really change much after 10,000 pounds; it only continues to widen and lift the body up higher and higher.

Before I started her diet, Mary was just over nine feet high from the floor to the highest point on her back. She was 43 feet wide across her chest from flank to flank and 15 feet long from the front tip of her brisket to the rear of her utter/belly (She was actually only seven and a half feet long from snout to tail head..

Long ago, I set up a system of health devices for Mary to ensure that she escaped the standard ailments associated with obesity at this level. With a very precise liquid diet high in fat and starch, with careful additives to prevent intestinal complications, Mary's digestive tract was operating at full capacity every minute of every day. I estimated that she absorbed about a million Calories daily. She could not physically breathe enough oxygen for her expansive body so she needed to be permanently hooked up to a blood oxygenator. I even developed a special virus to counteract fatty liver. Even though her body fat percentage was over 95%, she was still relatively healthy. Her only major complaint was her heart. She suffered from a rapid heart rate and low blood pressure. There was simply too much tissue that was too far away from the heart to get blood to. The outer reaches of her flanks had pasty white skin under the fur and were cold to the touch; she became warmer as the fat approached her core. Eventually, this condition would have worn out her heart or resulted in massive tissue death which would have lead to an unstoppable infection. But even this condition was not out of reach to treat. Extensive surgery to place extra arteries and veins (and perhaps an extra artificial heart) could have staved off this effect until finally she would die naturally of old age (albeit at a much younger age due to general stress).

Now we come to the reason why it is immoral to overfeed a cow to this point. Mary was so fat, she was essentially paralyzed. She could not move one single portion of her body, not even her jaw or tail. If not for reductive surgery, she would be blind as well as almost deaf. Almost her entire head was buried in the fat that had risen steadily from her chest. Her brisket flowed up to her nostrils and covered her mouth completely. Only the top of her snout was visible from the ocean of fat setting around her head. The fat curved upwards to her back from her forehead, thus burying all traces of her ears and causing mechanical blindness. I cannot imagine what torture it was to feel your head sinking into you body, to be a mind (even an animal one) almost totally taken away from the world of senses and locked in a soft and malleable prison. If she had been forced to continue to gain, I have no doubt that her head would become buried as her limbs did long ago, nothing but a deep crease in a mound of flesh. It sickens me that I am aroused by the image even as I write this. There could be no crueler fate than to be buried alive in your own flesh, forced to be kept alive by an oxygen mask well past the point where your body would have failed naturally.

There is little change in her body from the point she entered BCS 18 to this stage in BCS 19. She grew wider, her body was supported ever higher, her creases grew deeper. Truly, the one major difference is her flattening. She grows higher at a much slower pace that she widens. Easily five inches needs to be added to her width to support an inch of height. Rather than sloping linearly up to the back, the fat spreads out over the floor. The fat descends steeply from her broad back until about four feet from the ground on either side. Her entire width in both directions from this point is almost level. Her fur is spread so thinly, her entire body is tinged with pink (fading to white as it gets farther from her heart), even on her black patches. In Mary's case, her skin was stretched tight from years of gaining almost fifty pounds a week. There were no wrinkles, no loose patches of cellulite (cellulite was there, it just didn't sag), she was firm like a balloon ready to burst.

Even these characteristics are simple progressions from BCS 18, what sets this apart as a new level of super obesity are the changes in her limbs, shoulders and loin. I have seen that, at this late stage, there is a battle of growth between the loin and the shoulders. Mary puts more weight into shoulders, so they were much larger than her loin. In fact, the highest point on her body sat precariously atop a massive ridge of fat located approximately above her lower back (which is several feet below the surface of the skin). When I look at her "back" the effect reminds me of plate tectonics. Both areas of her body are growing in opposite directions (the loin towards the head, and the shoulders to the rear). The much larger shoulders met the loin in BCS 18, but they have since overcome the trench initially formed and flowed over the loin. The massive roll of flesh now sits over the site of her submerged withers.

It was misleading of me to say that the limbs were buried in BCS 18. For the upper portions of each (the thighs in the hind legs and the upper "arms" in the front) were visible. They were simply stuffed with so much fat that they blended into the body; only the thin fore hooves had been enveloped. But now, truly they were both buried. The expanding belly had deepened and elongated the crease to include her thick thighs. This is another reason why this BC score is so brutal. The legs are stretched and bent far out of their normal stretching capacity. Though buried in fat, her thighs were turned out so much that each inner thigh faced the ground. Both of her hip joints were dislocated mechanically and there was nothing I could do to replace them. Ligaments and tendons were stretched so far and so slowly that they could never hold the leg in place in the joint again without massive reconstructive surgery. Less damage was done of the forelegs, but they too were completely enveloped in fat all the way to her shoulder joints. Likewise, they were turned out so far as to be parallel to the ground; thankfully, her front legs are more flexible.

The tail, and her last mobile appendage, had finally been pinned by the expansion of the loin. It rests under a several hundred pound sheet of fat that reaches down to the belly that expands several feet out behind her from the fork of her legs. A most unforgivable attribute of this BCS score is that it makes vaginal sex almost impossible.

My body screams at me now as I watch Mary loose her first pounds. I know I love seeing her this way. I almost can't walk by her without being driven to my knees with pounding desire. If there was a way, any way, that she could be functional, I would see her at 25,000 pounds before her body gave out on her. I have come to realize now that that would not be right. It is not fair to Mary for me to take what I want in my selfness all satisfaction in her life. She is not an object for me to use, she is a person. I only wished that I had realized that sooner and I hope that one day she could forgive me.

I put that poster up into the Big Barn as a reminder of my commitment to my goal and where I had come from. After all, though some in mainstream society might disagree, it was not wrong of me to love Mary in the first place, and to forget what I had done... well, it was best not to think about what might happen then.

When the clock read noon, the feeding machine whirred for Mary's midday meal and I crawled out from under the odd lean-to structure that I was using to prop up several feet of Mary's under belly. The fact that Mary could no longer be rotated even occasionally had made the care of her belly a top priority. I used the same treatments that had worked in the past, but now, I had to use equipment more likely found in an auto repair shop than a 'hospital" room to get to the vulnerable skin underneath. I left the stand in place as I left for my scheduled lunch and to start working on my files. Part of the problem before was that I did everything on a whim, with no structure to my day. Now I worked harder at my job than I had since Hollie left me. The damage I did to myself over the course of Mary's rapid gain was staggering and I actually found myself on the verge of loosing my job when I recovered my sanity.

It was difficult for me to get to her face, and she couldn't hear my voice very well still, so I didn't bother bidding Mary farewell as I left her room. As I walked across the hibernating field, however, I thought I saw something odd at the edge of the forest. I turned my head towards it and saw black and white against the dazzling reds and golds of the forest. I rubbed my eyes and the black and white resolved itself into the shapes of several cows walking the border of the fence. It was difficult to see and I couldn't get their number before they disappeared around the house. I ran to recover my vantage point only to start as the sight of the three cows on my driveway. Hollie and her two daughters, Cathleen and Lauren were standing still, looking at me; Cathleen held a large notepad in her mouth and both Hollie and Lauren held markers in theirs.

So overcome was I, that I ran over to embrace them all, no matter the unfriendliness of my prior visit. I couldn't stop the flow of words from my mouth. "Please Hollie, forgive me. I've been a monster, a beast. I couldn't have driven you out more forcibly if I had pushed you out with my hands. I realize what I've done is unforgivable, but I still love you! Please come back and live with me, I can't bear the loneliness anymore. Forgive me! Please!"

I wept and sobbed into her breast like a ten year old. I didn't stop until I felt her wet tongue against my cheek. I looked up at her blurrily, my eyes stinging and tear filled. I blinked away the worst of it and rose back onto my feet. Where Cathleen and Lauren might have laughed at my outburst, they only stood silent witness.

I put out my hand for the notepad and Cathleen dropped it into my palm. I noted that over half of the pages had been ripped out and the entire thing soaked at least once. I uncapped the marker for Hollie, but rather than the long dialogue I was expecting her to write, she instead only wrote, "Computer, in the barn, go." I didn't need anymore clarification that that and as soon as I had Hollie attached to the computer in Lauren's old stall, she spoke; the voice she choose sounded eerily like the woman from the old tutorial.

"We have known you've recovered your sanity for sometime now. We were never very far away, merely over the hill away from this farm, and we watched you from the cover of the trees. I was hoping that you wouldn't relapse, but you've proven that the person I fell in love with had not died completely."

I smiled as she continued.

"I did miss you terribly and I want to come back to the farm, but I want to make some things very clear. I understand that I have no more control over my children's bodies than you should have, and now they are all adults." The speakers synthesized a sigh even as Hollie's chest heaved, "I know that being fat isn't incredibly unhealthy for the way that you've designed us, and while some of us might express interest in changing the way their bodies look..." Here I noticed that Cathleen gave Lauren a less than subtle nudge. "While some of us might express interest, make no mistake that any of us want our lives taken as payment. You must realize that we are capable of controlling ourselves and we will tell you when enough is enough."

I nodded carefully, taking in every word, and rapidly falling even deeper in love with this strong woman before me. "I understand. I've learned a lot since I've come back."

"It goes without saying that we can't risk being discovered so we request the same privacy you have shown us before."

I quirked my head, "You didn't need to ask for that, I'd be in just about as much trouble as you if they found us."

"Yes, but you, they'd throw in jail. They would destroy us. I just can't take the risk."

I nodded again.

"Lastly, after mother..." Hollie paused, and I thought that if she were human, Hollie would be making choking noises, "After mother dies, I want you to destroy that 'Big Barn,' or at least remove all of its equipment and turn it into a regular stable."

This last request came as a surprise. Immediately, I wanted to argue for all of the money I had poured into that building, but the words became hollow even before they left my mouth. Hollie, the one, if not person, being whom I'd loved as intensely as Mary, had finally come back to me and I wanted to argue finances. Who was I kidding? I would sacrifice my early retirement to have her back in my life.

"That's fine, but for now, Mary still needs the equipment in there. She's lost a lot of weight, but she still has a long way to go."

Hollie widened her eyes so that the whites showed in surprise, "She's lost weight?" She paused, "Can I see her?"

My cheeks flushed scarlet with combined embarrassment and shame. "Well.... Ummm... she's getting better, but in the time I was insane... There's no excuse really for what I did, but..."

Hollie reached out with her snout and struck me soundly in the chest so that I stumbled back a step. "I knew she was fatter. I didn't think I wanted to see her when I came, but now I realize that I do... and I hadn't expected you to already start her loosing weight. What I was asking is if it's fine, with you as her doctor, to see her, or if she would do better to rest instead."

"Ummm..." I staggered for a bit more, but Hollie moved as to prompt me before she jabbed me again and my tongue loosened. "It's perfectly fine to see, her, it won't cause her any harm. I'm just saying that you probably won't like what you see and I'm terribly afraid that you won't want to come back after you've seen her."

I sagged after my confession. I seem to be making a lot of those now that I'm sane. Is that something people usually do? Or is it only from having done so many things that I hadn't thought about the consequences to later.

Hollie took a deep breath and said, "I still want to see her, and I swear that I won't go back on my offer as long as you agree to my terms."

"I do agree." I said with alacrity.

Hollie looked over at Cathleen and Lauren and all three began mooing rather rhythmically, almost simultaneously. They'd developed the language further than I'd imagined, or my disused abilities to comprehend were incredibly rusty. Less than a minute later, Hollie said, "Both Cathleen and Lauren want to see their grandmother. Both promise not to hold anything against what you did while you lost touch with reality... and I think it is important for Lauren at least to see Mary as well for her own benefit." Lauren lowered her head a touch in response to Hollie's words.

As we were about to leave, an idea struck me. I told Hollie to wait a moment while I grabbed a bit of loose leather. I made a slip knot on one end quickly and a large loop on the other. I tightened the slip knot around one of the wireless speakers and looped the rest around Hollie's neck. "Now you can talk to me," I said, "At least while you're in range. I do think it will make it at least to the barn."

We walked quickly over and as I opened the door into Mary's barn, all three of the cows present gasped at once, their jaws falling open in a very human way when they saw Mary. Lauren looked only for a moment before turning around and running back the way we came. Cathleen stood rooted to the spot and did not move a muscle until Hollie walked coolly forward. As she came to the edge of Mary's protruding flesh, she touched her nose gently to the skin of her mother. When her face came away, her eyes ran with tears. I looked away in shame, incapable of meeting her gaze. I heard her say, "You think this is beauty?"

Despite my meekness, I heard myself respond with the confidence with which I had written the last entry for my poster. "I cannot help what I feel is beauty. And yes, I do think Mary is a sight to behold, divine, even now. Would you prefer that I think her hideous?"

Hollie looked taken aback, but then she tilted her head in thought. "Yes it is better that you did this out of love, even a twisted form of it, but it is still not right..." She paused then for a long moment; I expected to be further berated and rehearsed my counter arguments in my head as I waited. Finally she spoke again, "but like I said, it is over and done with now. You are not trying to fatten her anymore, though how that is possible I can scarcely imagine, and, so you say, she has already lost some weight. I won't torment you anymore about it."

Cathleen mooed to Hollie, the rhythm was fast and jagged, the tones low and I doubted that she was happy from the way she held her head and tail. As I looked back, I also saw that Lauren had returned and was gazing warily from the around the doorway. Hollie replied in tones equally brisk and dismissive and I had no doubt as to who was in charge of her herd.

When the exchange had ended, Hollie turned back towards her mother and bellowed loudly, she waited as if expecting a response, but when none came, she turned to me and asked, "Can she hear us?"

I shook my head, "No, umm... her ears are buried in fat, as are her eyes." Shame burned me as clearly as a hot coal, "... but she can still smell pretty well and she can feel you."

Hollie looked as if she was going to ask another question, but she apparently decided against it. Instead she lowered her neck and rubbed her head against Mary's protruding flesh. Fresh tears came and stained the white under her eyes. Without further word, she left Mary then and walked out of the barn door. After I shut it, I jogged up to the trio. As I was about to join them, Hollie looked back and shook her head, "Go and do the work you were meaning to do before we came. I will gather the rest of my children and make ourselves comfortable in the old barn. I remember where everything was, and have seen where you have moved things to new places. We will make ourselves comfortable and feed ourselves... and my brother Matthew as well. I can tell that he too has lost a significant amount of weight and he too still has a while to go."

She winked at me before walking to the gate. I walked back to the house, ecstatic about Hollie's return, but less than enthusiastic about my work. I knew it would take a while to grow comfortable together, especially since most of Hollie's children hadn't seen me since they were practically infants, but I thought back to happier days and I knew that this time I could make it even better.

Epilogue:

By working through Christmas, I was able to retire early the following year. Neither Hollie nor her children begrudged me the lack of presents, though all of the younger ones who had not previously had a Christmas (or could not remember one) with me thoroughly enjoyed the family celebration we had and my Santa outfit. The youngest ones, especially the ones born just prior to Hollie's flight lacked much of an education. They had grown up with a lack of books or any sort of human society and I found it hard to relate to them in general, even after Cathleen, Lauren and Hollie had ample materials with which to educate them with on my ranch.

My love was rekindled with Hollie, as if it had never been snuffed (though even in my depths of madness, I felt sure it had never fled from me completely). The closer I grew to Hollie, the more I realized what I had deprived myself of between myself and Mary. Hollie helped me with my grief over what I had done. Indeed, without her support, I think I might have driven myself into another deep depression. Hollie, despite her lack of hands helped me eagerly with Mary's routine care, using her superior strength to lift and move her bulk while I worked.

With careful reductive surgery, I was able to restore at least some of Mary's sight by propping open a long channel out which she might see with either eye. It wasn't much, but the pure joy she radiated when she saw Hollie for the first time in years was exhilarating.

As she continued loosing weight, her flesh lost what consistency it had held previously. The walk to even reach her body became like quicksand, and treating her effectively grew very difficult, however, I still managed what I could (which was a lot considering that I no longer had to spare any time at all for work. Honestly, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret tug at my heart as she lost weight. It was like watching a magnificent sculpture being demolished before my eyes. The clearly formed features of the landscape that was Mary dissolved into chaos. She did truly look as if she were melting as her careful lines and creases gave way under collapsing foundations. The largest rolls remained relatively unaffected so far, but the smaller ones crumpled, new ones formed almost daily and Mary's weight shifted and her core sank deeper and deeper into the surrounding "waters." It was difficult to contemplate the surgical removal of all the extra, starved tissue that lay around her. Undoubtedly, this flesh would be the last to go... if it would go at all. I simply didn't have the resources to stitch up that large of a wound, assuming that I could even remove it safely; Mary would surely bleed to death, and I had only two gallons of emergency cow blood on reserve (it sounds like a lot, but is not much considering how large cows are). My only hope was that as Mary lost weight, blood flow would return and she would be able to burn it off.

On the brighter side, both Cathleen and Lauren warmed up to me quickly. Cathleen was a close friend, but I could tell quickly that Lauren was infatuated with me. Not being monogamous, neither Hollie nor I took offense when she began flirting with me subtly. She took as much pleasure in my masculine scent as her mother did and would often sneak up on me, sniff either my crotch or my rear and take off running, making a sound I quickly came to interpret at giggling. When Lauren first asked me to start sexing with her, I was unsure. Both of Hollie's response and, bizarrely, Mary's (despite her inability to show it). Hollie reassured me and gave me and Lauren her blessings, Mary I was still unsure about, until we finally did it and it felt so right.

Later that first year, she admitted to her fat fetish, though Hollie had as much as told me about it the first day we met. Lauren said that she desired a larger, softer body; one that jiggled as she walked and swayed with every step. "Before that day I saw my grandmother, I had thought that being too fat to walk and force fed with a hose was erotic. Hollie told us stories about both Mary as she remembered and from her glimpse at her own grandmother when she was small. She meant them to be a warning about what we were predisposed to, but I found them enticing... at least until I saw how far that could be taken. I was shocked, to say the least, I couldn't tell her front side from her back, her head was almost gone. I don't want that, I don't ever want that... but I've realized that, like you, this is something deeper, something I can't ignore and hope will go away.

"I'm chubby, already a lot fatter than my sister, but I want to be bigger, a lot bigger. But I want to walk when I want to, and not to be punished by my back and my knees for trying to move. I want a normal life, but I do want to look different than I do now. Mother tells me that being fat for us is not like being fat for a regular cow, you made certain of that, but there is still a limit, I've seen for myself.

"Now I ask you, now that I've grown to love you, can I trust you? Can I trust that you will let me stop when I want and more importantly, because I know you would stop now if I asked, would you stop if you knew it would do me no good to gain more, even if I felt I could go on?" Lauren shook her head, "I know I am not possessed of a strong will power and I do not trust myself, even if I could get all that I wanted. So I ask you again, can I trust you?"

In answer, I bent and touched my lips to hers and stroked her strong, wide neck.

Eventually, Lauren came into her own at BCS 13. I didn't measure weight anymore, with the exception of Mary's (and even that was indirect, based on her measurements and total volume). Lauren gave me my most sensual and fulfilling feeder/feedee relationship I had ever known. She had lovely hips that filled and swelled, and a belly that just begged to be massaged for hours. Hollie stood by on the sidelines the whole time we were courting. She was assured daily by Lauren that she was fine, but it was not until she announced that she was finally happy with her weight and asked me to design a diet for her to maintain it that Hollie look truly pleased. Hollie praised her daughter that day with hard embraces and lots of licks. I found myself truly happy that Lauren had gotten the body she desired and for the first time, I found more pleasure in her happiness that I did from simply caressing her body, gorgeous as it was. I can't say that I had ever been happier in my life.

Mary died three months after her 24th birthday. She went in her sleep, and I couldn't say there was any particular reason why she died, she was just old. Her body weighed just under 13,000lbs. She never was able to move any of her limbs again, nor her tail. With effort, she could just manage to shift her neck some, but that was all. She needed repeated reductive surgery to maintain her vision and some hearing as my work continually sagged as she lost weight. I was disappointed that she hadn't been able to loose more weight before she went, disappointed that she wasn't ever able to move decently again. That night, I wept and wasn't able to sleep despite exhaustion from raising an even higher and greater hill than her mother's at the opposite side of the ranch. Her tombstone was elaborately carved with her name, birth and death dates, and the simple message, Never again, Beloved, Never again. Finally I left my house, walked to the smaller barn and was able to get to bed with only hay and Hollie's heat comforting me.

A couple years passed and Mary's passing stung less and less, but it was not until deep in the winter of '54 that Cathleen came to me with a strange request. I was reading in the warmth of my living room and I was surprised to hear a knock on the door. My doors were always open to my residents, at least those who could fit through them, and I was surprised to see Cathleen at the door, shaking loose snow from her coat and stamping her hooves to remove the ice. The pendant on the leather necklace she wore was a speaker and it issued, "Rodney, I want to talk to you about something serious, and I don't want mother to know about it just yet."

I welcomed her in without another word and Cathleen, not actually possessing a voice with which to chatter, got to the point, "I fear that I may have gotten myself deeply into something that is very wrong, but I think that you of all people can understand me on this issue. I've... I've fallen in love with my younger brother, James. He's grown so strong and handsome and he's charming and... but that's not the point." She said this last with a shake of her head, "I want children, Rodney. I know that I'm not quite in my prime, but I miss the days where we took care of the youngest in the forest, just me, Lauren and Mother. The fields are so quiet and none of us care for a mate as dumb as what we could expect from our 'cousins.'

"I know you have a gift with genes, Rodney. You made us after all. I wanted to know if you could make it so that if me and James wanted to become partners, we would not be inbreeding."

"Hmm..." I said, as I sat down into my chair and looked more levelly at the cow standing in my living room, "There are several way I have gotten around this issue in the past. First, I grew the fetuses in my lab and checked them manually before implanting them artificially. We could do this, and they would be technically of your blood... but I feel that you want a more natural approach, am I right?"

Cathleen nodded and said, "Yes I do, I don't think I wouldn't mind if I was younger... but I'm already past half of my years, and I know there is trauma and risk involved."

"Yes there is. In that case, either one or both of you must undergo gene therapy to alter your genetic make-up, this is the most natural, but far more risky that even implantation. The last option that is readily available to me would require a sacrifice on the part of your lover.

Cathleen looked startled at first, but as I told her about the artificial teste I could give James, she seemed to calm. "... and the implant would make your children as if James were not related to you. It would be even simpler than the one I put in Matthew, I could even have it ready for your heat this spring."

Cathleen nodded, "Yes I had hoped that whatever you might be able to do would not take longer than the winter. Thank you so much. I'm going to tell James and ask him, and if he agrees, I will ask mother and tell her what you've told me."

I nodded and Cathleen left without another word. Before three days had passed, I received word of approval by all parties concerned, and that summer held the cries of newborns not hear in over a decade. That summer, Hollie was a grandmother, and I couldn't say that she could have been prouder.

The one hurtful thing that had come about in the intervening years was the fact that my beloveds grew old far too quickly, that or I was dragging my heels. In this age where the average lifespan for a human was over 110 years old and increasing by the decade, 25 years was not nearly enough to spend with one whom you've devoted all the space in your heart. Hollie was elderly even as Cathleen first gave birth. And four more springs and the advent of more couplings and more calves (thankfully, I had not burned down the "Big Barn" but instead added a great many stalls), did nothing to aid her. Hollie was content, even as she required more and more aid from me as weakness settled into her muscles. Her eyes grew a little cloudy and her coat did not seem as full as it once had.

Lauren, my sexual partner, my lover, but not honestly number one in my heart, had fairly premature aging so I needed to help her as well as her mother. As the signs of old age began to settle upon her mother, Lauren did honestly try to loose some of her beloved girth, to prepare for the inevitable, however, to her despair, a strict diet and daily exercise yielded results in pounds per month, rather than week. I told her that her body was probably comfortable where it was at, despite the massive overburdening, and her metabolism tests did not bode well for successful and long-lasting results. She took the news well that it was unlikely that she was able to loose enough weight to make a difference before problems would start cropping up, and that, at her weight, she could almost certainly expect joint pain, arthritis and perhaps even diabetes. She stopped dieting that day, and gained back easily three times the weight she lost over the previous six months in less than two. I prescribed her Leptin to keep her weight steady and predictably, she started having hip and shoulder pain before the year was out.

Hollie also took a turn for the worse when she caught a winter cold that drained most of her strength and took her average weight dangerously low; she never really recovered. Lauren had started her complaints later than her mother, but she went down faster. I prescribed her pain medication, but her weight was really troubling her. Her hip pain became hip dysplasia as her massive belly strained her withered cartilage inside the hip joints on both sides. As she limped outside to relieve herself (she took her meals in her stall now) she told me, "I was so foolish to think that I could have everything I wanted forever. I love my body, even now as it pains me, but I should have asked you to help me loose weight years ago... I might have even had children like my sister."

"Don't beat yourself up over it." I said, "This choice is as good as any I swear. You might have gone through this even if you weighed a quarter of what you do, and you would be much less happy for it. You're twenty now, how much longer do you think you could have lasted? Hollie stayed thin all her life, and, to be perfectly honest, I don't think she'll see thirty. Is an extra three or five years really worth all of the happiness that you've had?"

Lauren smiled, the stiff limp in her step easing for a moment. Her fat cheeks jiggled for a moment as she raised her head to mine for a brief lick. "Five years ago, I would have said no. But now that push comes to shove... I think I might have wanted to see my sister's children have calves of their own."

"Don't talk like that." I said, stroking her shoulders, "You're not near dead yet, you know."

She nodded and then stopped a moment to catch her breath; we had walked nearly a quarter of the length of the field, just past the halfway point to where she normally evacuated. "I still can't believe I'm old," She said, her wide flanks heaving for a few moments before she continued, "Old and fat."

I reached under her neck and tickled the large and heavily creased sac that hung there, "But delightfully so."

She smiled, showing her slightly yellowed, but healthy teeth, "You always know how to cheer me up-" Her face turned to grimace as Lauren staggered and collapsed forward heavily onto her chest and belly. It spread outwards and forced her legs further apart, making Lauren groan again and roll over onto her side. "Fuck!" she cursed, "My godamn hip." Her belly spread out along the ground, well past her hocks even with out the coercion of gravity to make it sag deeper. I sat lightly on her ribs and stroked the smooth slope of her gut, knowing that massages weren't the best thing for her hips. "At least you don't have diabetes." I said cheerfully.

"Yeah... now." Lauren said, still panting on the ground. "But seriously, Rodney, don't joke about that... Cathleen told what my what my glucose levels are. I might have it before the year is out."

In response I stroked her neck, pushing my hands deep into her ample flab. I'll be there to care for you. You won't loose an eye, I promise." Some time passed before Lauren spoke again.

"You know, it is so strange being in love with an immortal."

"What?" I said, genuinely startled, "I'm no immortal."

"You might as well be," She said with a flick of her head. "My sister's kids and their kids will be gone by the time that you start showing grey hair. If only humans were so concerned about extending cow lives as much as their own." She stuck her tongue out at me. "At least they'll have a good man to watch over them, and tell them stories about me..."

I couldn't deny anything that she said, so I laid down on her, stroking her beautifully sculpted neck and wishing for a fate less cruel.

Lauren did indeed develop diabetes later that year, natural stresses and time finally overcoming my built-in genetic strengths. She didn't loose an eye, or a hoof, but her mobility went soon afterwards, even though I was there to customize her diet and measure her blood sugar three times daily.

Hollie wasn't able to fight off another flu bug she caught in the winter of '64. She asked me to euthanize her New Year's day as her temperature spiked and her old bones filled with fire. She was twenty-eight years old and was almost skeletal at 948lbs. Lauren asked me to do the same kindness for her that autumn as she lay on her bed of hay, the strain of her diabetes and her weight causing her liver to fail (I didn't weigh her, her weight was not her most important quality). Side by side I buried them, Lauren much deeper so that she would not overshadow her mother. I looked out over my little graveyard, much larger than I had ever anticipated. The pain of that year sliced me more than winter's winds as they began to howl and future generations of cows huddled in their barns for warmth. I seriously contemplated walking out into the blizzard and not coming back; yes, that would be the easiest way to find them again, all of them. My rump had risen a quarter inch from my seat before I heard Hollie's voice in my head. It was a mixture of her true, cow's voice and the overlay of the annoying tutorial woman's voice. They blended, but I understood.

"This isn't what I wanted Rodney. Stay and care for those still here."

I shook my head, "I can't it's too painful."

"Was it anymore painful than when you realized what you had done to Mary?"

"... no." I answered sheepishly, I couldn't lie to myself (or at least I had given up the habit).

"You didn't kill yourself then, and you had more reason to do so then also. Alone and not sure I would ever return. I was so afraid that you would kill yourself if you ever returned to sanity."

"... I don't remember you ever saying that to me when you were alive, are you a ghost?"

"Rodney! It doesn't matter, stop thinking so much. What matters is that you live while you can and make sure that the line you spent so much work caring for and making thrive doesn't end with you."

"End with me? How would that be?"

"Think about it, genius."

"...But you told me not to think... Ow! Did you just jab me?"

"Yes and no, think about your legacy, if you died tomorrow, what would happen?"

"Nothing... not for a long while, at least. Oh, who would get the groceries?"

"Yes and more. What about property taxes? Ownership documents, inheritance and laws. A hundred years could pass without harm, but the land needs to be in living hands, or else some business shark will find the abandoned properly and seize it. What will happen to my descendants then?"

"They'll all die... or be experimented on... and then die."

"Exactly, I can't believe you didn't think of this sooner. Go and live and make sure my loved ones have a future. Goodbye."

"No! Please don't go!"

"Goodbye, sweetheart, my lover, my mate. I'll be waiting for you."

I shouted after the apparition, but my throat released only the tiniest squeak. My rump fell back into the chair and I felt goose pimples all over, though that might have been from the cold. The next morning I was on the telephone with my mom for the first time since Christmas.

A delivery boy got out of his truck after driving up to the small, ramshackle house and unloading the weekly delivery of goods. This man had been delivering here for years, and yet it was still one of the strangest on his route. There were dozens of cows spread out on the wide fields and the fact that almost all of them were normal sized (if a bit tall) while a couple individuals were heavily obese, honestly the least of them could qualify as the fattest cow he had ever seen, was not the weirdest part. It was their eyes and the way they seemed to study him when he wasn't watching. When he did raise his head to look at them, they all had their heads down to the turf, as if they had never looked. The delivery boy knew better, but they didn't pay him enough to investigate weird and frightening mysteries. Instead his unloaded his package of grains, hays and other herbivore foodstuffs. Some animal medication was included as well. The man tried his best not to look carefully at the box with the book and magazine subscriptions. He also ignored the occasional package with new computers, software and games. The ruined house looked like it didn't even have electricity, but the packages were always gone by the time he returned the next week. Yes the Johnson Estate was a creepy place, but they didn't pay enough to look too closely at it, not nearly enough.