Essie doesn't know how long it's been since she came to Shaw Farms. All she knows, is she wants to be good. She eats what she's supposed to, even when it's a new texture. She's never eaten something so grass-like, of course. And while it tastes sweet and yummy, there's always a fine pink powder overtop it that she sniffs at. Essie gets used to it quickly, though, as she eats six times a day. All this food must be why her thighs have been squishier than ever, and her breasts no longer fit in the palms of her hands. A part of her wants to say it's uncomfortable and she could use more support than the paper thin outfits they give her, but another, louder part is enjoying filling out her frame for the first time. Something in the back of Essie's mind remembers that thought as if it were an echo, as if she'd heard it before from some soft whisper in her dreams, but Essie doesn't have the patience to follow that loose thread.
In fact, Essie doesn't have patience for many thoughts at all anymore. Her mind has become more simple, more pleasure-oriented. She follows Tommy's orders, she listens to the voice when she trains and sleeps, she follows all commands to the best of her abilities, all for the satisfied rush that comes with obedience. She works diligently to feel that euphoria, right up to her breaking point. There always comes a time at the end of the day, right before Tommy leads her back to bed, when she's prompted to accept her new life completely. There's a sound she must make, a sound she can't make before she flushes red and remembers that this isn't her life. It can't be, because she's all wrong. This isn't who she's supposed to be, she remembers, and that feeling only becomes more painful as she sees the disappointment and frustration on Tommy's face. He tries to hide it, Essie knows, but Tommy's too honest. He says he's trying to help her and Essie believes him. But she's protecting herself. From what, she doesn't know. But Tommy doesn't stop trying.
Essie is sitting on the floor of her room, wolfing down her breakfast when Tommy buzzes himself inside. She looks up at him with a wide, empty smile, pleased to see her handler. He greets her by ruffling her hair and giving her a tap under the chin, and she wiggles with excitement. She's grown to look forward to Tommy's visits, to working with him and the way he makes her feel. As long as she's a good girl, she stays happy.
Today, though, there are three people who follow Tommy inside. Essie scoots away from them, clutching her breakfast close to her person. Tommy whoas, and lowers himself to Essie's level.
"Hey girl, it's alright. These are friends," he says gently. "They're gonna watch me give you your shots, and you're gonna behave." Essie hears his command, and she's nodding before Tommy finishes his sentence. She knows what shots mean. She puts herself on all fours and pulls her paper shorts down to her knees, exposing her ass at just the right angle. Essie winces only slightly as she takes her first and second injections. She's gotten used to her new routine.
Tommy stands and talks to the three behind him. Two are men, one a woman. They wear pink scrubs, but look less sure of themselves than other nurses Essie's seen. As Essie rights her shorts and continues to eat, she barely processes their conversation.
"Based on size and shape," Tommy asks, "how long do you think Essie May's been with us?"
The woman juts her pen into the air. "Compared to her starting measurements, she's gained quite a bit of weight in her chest and her rear. I would say she's about eighty percent of the way to her goal, putting her at roughly a week and a half."
Tommy nods. "Good, good justifications, Holiday. But like I said, EMT299 is our challenge right now, the special project Mr. Shaw is hard at work on. Given how much effort is being spent on EMT, how would you adjust your estimate?"
One of the men shoves himself in front of Holiday. "At most, I would say two and a half weeks, sir."
Tommy narrows his eyes, but elects to gloss over the man's behavior. "Close, Gardner. Essie's been in our program for three weeks as of today. Holiday had the right idea, though. If Essie was a standard admittance, she would've been moved to her own pen at the two-week mark, and she's rapidly approaching her correct size and level of obedience. In that case, who can tell me what tools have been implemented to alter Essie, and at approximately what measurements?"
The other man steps aside, glancing between Gardner and Holiday, and clears his throat. He introduces himself, "Devon Lewis, sir. Um, her treatment should include subliminal messaging in her pod during her sleep, and a serum in her nightly IV meant to make her more docile, suggestible, and help with milk production. Her meals would be grass-based and full of artificial vitamins designed to help her gain weight in the desired areas, like her breasts, thighs, and uh, buttocks. They're also meant to complement the effects of the serum and help stimulate, or rather, destimulate, her brain. I would assume, based on how low her OSS scores were, that you initially started with double the regular dose in all areas. By now, you might've gone to triple, but that's up to her handler's discretion."
Tommy nods. "Very nice, Lewis. Anyone else have something to add?"
Holiday speaks up. "Lewis forgot to mention her hormone injections, the ones you just gave her. We watched you do two shots, both at a full milliliter. Like he said, that's twice the regular dosage."
"Yes, that's right. Gardner, what's the last part of Essie's plan your peers forgetting?" Tommy asks, boring into Gardner's slack face.
"Aside from drugs, she's in daily training to test the results of her subliminal messaging and to further alter her mind. If she were an ordinary specimen, she'd be on the last of her videos, probably on set twelve or thirteen. Since she's Shaw's pet project, I'm assuming she's got her own personalized regimen." Gardner doesn't blink as he keeps Tommy's eyes in his own grasp.
"You'd be right on the money," Tommy says, though he doesn't smile. "Essie's got an individualized series, recorded by Mr. Shaw himself. It's proven to be much more effective than any attempts to give her the generic set, and she's accustomed to Mr. Shaw's voice, pacing, and specific induction. At this point, Essie's picked up most commands necessary and follows through on initial prompting. Who here has memorized the basic vocab you'll need as a member of Shaw Farms?"
All three put their hands up.
Tommy slaps Lewis on the shoulder. "Let's see what you've got."
Lewis immediately steps forward, as the others press themselves to the far wall of Essie's cramped room. They assume silence to keep distractions to a minimum.
Lewis doesn't squat to Essie's level, or wait for her to acknowledge him. Yet, his voice is soft and caring as he orders, "Essie, down."
Essie looks up at him with wide, brown eyes. She tentatively pushes her empty plate aside puts herself on all fours once again, this time leaving her clothing intact.
Tommy murmurs something appreciative at Lewis' back.
Lewis says, "Essie, open wide."
Her mouth falls and her tongue lolls out. A small, small part of her at the back of her throat remembers that this is embarrassing, degrading, but it's become too tiny to voice it.
"Essie, speak."
Essie giggles as a wave of ticklish energy shivers its way up her spine.
Tommy interjects, "Notice how EMT didn't moo, as intended by that command. Why not?"
Holiday answers, "Because her training is not complete. Your cows only moo once they're finished."
Tommy nods. "Yes. And while we knew this project would take longer than most, Shaw is getting restless. We want results we can be proud of, not something half-finished. And today, that's your job."
Holiday and Lewis glance between each other while Gardner stands squarely assured of himself.
"We've been going about the traditional methods, albeit by a slightly more intense route," Tommy continues. "And as far as commands, weight, and follow-through, EMT is plenty prepared to join the herd and allow the rest of her processing to occur with the general population. It's that final acceptance we're struggling with."
"All due respect, sir," Holiday voices, "but shouldn't someone more...experienced be doing this? Why interns?"
Tommy cocks a half-smile. "We're hoping you three have a fresh take. Frankly, our upper management is stumped, and their only suggestion is to keep on with what we've been doing. So, we got creative and pulled our most promising interns from their class, hoping they could find a solution. Would you rather go back to your textbook, Holiday?"
"No! No, sir," she insists. "Thank you for the opportunity."
"Alright then," Tommy claps his hands together. "Have at it."
He gestures for the interns to take the floor, and backs himself up to the glass wall facing the hallway. "All your tools should be on the counter beside her pod. Holler if you need anything."
Lewis, Gardner, and Holiday huddle before her. They whisper amongst each other. While Holiday and Lewis seem to find common ground, Gardner cuts through them sharply and struggles his way into leadership. Gradually, they agree to his plan, though Holiday and Lewis both show reluctance.
Essie sees Holiday first, as she crowds her vision while the other two busy themselves behind her.
"Hi, Essie," she says, her voice octaves higher than it was before.
Essie blushes and smiles, trying to find anywhere to look besides Holiday's wide blue eyes.
Holiday continues, her voice dripping with sweet, pitying honey, "You must be getting so sore with all these growth spurts. I can only imagine how round and full you feel."
Essie wriggles, but Holiday holds steady. Their eyes locked together, crystal irises swimming in Essie's vision. She nods tentatively. Holiday goes on, "I would feel so tight and needy if I were you. Like I just needed someone's hands to make it all better. Like, you must be so uncomfortable. Do you...maybe want some help?"
Essie shifts her weight from her knees to her upper arms, now feeling exactly how swollen her chest has become. Still, she says nothing.
"Don't you want to feel good?" Holiday asks. Essie nods instinctually. "Right! You want to feel so good, you want to feel some relief. Of course you do, sweet girl."
Essie hasn't seen Holiday's hands, not when they slowly went between her arms, or when they gently lifted the light material of Essie's shirt out of her way. She doesn't see them now as they each cup her breasts, though Essie groans through her closed lips. Her eyes go to the ceiling rather than her body as Holiday firmly massages them from chest to tip, eventually coming to roll Essie' pink, puffy nipples between her fingers. Essie arches her back; her breathing quickens. Wetness rolls down her thighs as Holiday's fingers work through her engorged chest.
From behind, Lewis takes his gloved hand to Essie's pussy. Essie's mouth falls open as he does. His fingers work through her slick labia to her clit, alternating between slowly introducing his finger to her hole and rubbing against her. Essie's legs spread quickly until there is just enough room for the stretcher bar she's trained with. Lewis quickly pops the bar between her legs, and she is fully in position.
At the front, Gardner watches Essie shudder with pleasure every alternating second. Her brain is clearly gone, as her eyes are unfocused and her face is slack.
"Essie," he starts. "My name is Ben. I'm going to help you today, okay? All you have to do is listen. Tell me you'll listen."
Essie faintly breathes out, "L...listen."
"Good girl."
Essie moans again, the tension in her body building and building.
"Essie, today you're going to moo. And when you do, you're going to know that this is who you are, and who you were meant to be. Tell me you'll moo."
Essie repeats, "M...moo?"
"Yes, exactly. I can only reward you if you do as you're told. So, you're going to do this for me. Tell me you'll do this for me."
Essie's eyes close, and her face wrinkles. "For...you?"
Gardner frowns. "Lewis, speed it up. I want her on the brink."
Lewis grunts, and moves faster. He thrusts in and out of her with two fingers now, only a second at a time. Holiday takes the hint and focuses on her nipples, the tips eliciting louder moans and quakes from Essie's entire body.
"Essie, you're going to moo for me, that's right. For Ben. Tell me you'll moo for Ben."
Essie struggles to follow as she begins to sweat, her arms shaking with the effort of sustaining herself in such intense pleasure. Every hard thrust empties her brain and readies her for new commands, but every roll of her nipples blanks her mind as well. She has nothing behind her eyes but sheer, white arousal. It's more than Essie's felt in a week, and it's electrifying.
As Essie can give him nothing but heavy, panting breaths, Ben frowns. "Stop," he commands.
Holiday and Lewis remove themselves and slouch at their stations. A shudder travels through Essie. She whines.
"Please," Essie gasps as her blurred vision tries to come into focus, "more, please. 'M sorry."
Ben shakes his head. "Tell me you'll moo for me."
Essie's head droops. Something deep within her locks. She can't. She shakes her head.
Ben tuts. "Oh, Essie. Tell me you'll moo for me, or we'll have to train you a little harder."
Essie stares at the grout between her palms. "S-sorry."
Ben strokes her head, his hands working through the her long, straight brown hair. Essie relaxes into him, and allows him to gather it into a ponytail at the back of her head.
He lowers himself to her ear and whispers, "Moo for Ben, Essie."
She shakes her head, only just catching her breath. "I... I can't. I can't, I'm sorry."
Gardner says, "Then I'm sorry, too."
With one quick yank, he wrenches Essie's head up by her hair. Essie cries out simultaneously with the other interns.
"Gardner!" Lewis yells. "We don't hurt them!"
Ben shrugs. "Maybe we should. Maybe it's the only way they'll really learn." He gives Essie another hard pull, and she whimpers.
"Go on, Essie. Say you'll moo."
Essie cries softly as her eyes dart for Tommy. She tries to turn her head, and Ben tugs at her again, pulling at her neck. Before she can yell for her handler, Ben lands a hard spank across her ass. Essie cries out, and Ben hits again.
"Quiet," he growls. "Unless you're ready to moo, I don't want to hear it."
"Gardner," Tommy orders. "Release her. Now."
"Sir, maybe this is something you need to try. You said we're your last resort." Gardner lands another hard hit on Essie's ass and commands, "Moo!"
Tommy switches to his phone, dialing as quickly as he can. "Hey, we need Shaw and security in EMT299. Now, right now."
When he hangs up, he directs the other interns to stand behind him.
"Gardner, this isn't helping anybody. Even an intern should know that pain is antithetical to our practices." Tommy approaches him from the side.
Gardner tsks. "Another step closer, and she gets one across the face."
"Tommy!" Essie yells, and Gardner spanks her three times. Tears roll down her cheeks, though Essie refuses to sob.
Hurried footsteps move down the hall.
Tommy tries reason. "If those guards get here and you're still holding her, they're not gonna show you a lot of mercy, Ben. Let's go out the dignified way, huh?"
"I don't plan on going out at all. She's going to do what she's supposed to," Ben laughs and throws a leg over Essie, straddling her. While one hand keeps its grip on her hair, the other comes around to her jaw. He grabs her firmly, and orders once more, "Moo, bitch."
Essie screams through his hands, and he shakes her face between his fingers. He yanks on her hair again, pulling so hard Essie's eyes feel like they'll pop from her skull. She wiggles underneath him, trying to throw him off though her muscles are already soft and weakened. She struggles and bucks until she hears loud, booming voices. They yank him from her, and Essie collapses to the cold, hard tile. Hands and bodies are all around moving faster than she can process.
As Essie lays there, she sees Ben pulled kicking and screaming down the hall. The other interns lean over her as if documenting the results, ready to catalog it for later study. Essie recognizes Tommy's scent as he pries the spreader bar from her legs and strokes her hair, her back, her sides, shushing her and helping Essie to sit up. Her breath comes in short, panicked bursts as she feels her airways trying to close themselves. Essie's hands tremble as she collects herself into a ball, tightly pulling her knees to her chest. She holds herself as best she can, as best as she always did in her childhood bedroom with the door barricaded as she hid in the dark corner of her closet.
A pair of legs in dark suit pants and glossy black dress shoes appear before her. She cannot look at who they belong to, but another hand pets the top of her head. They squat before her. The voice, her voice that has trained Essie for countless hours, commands, "Essie, rest easy."
And Essie's eyes shudder closed, darkness swimming as she reaches a state of sleepy contentment. She feels weightless, then held, pressed close to a warm chest and cradled as if she were small again. Her head falls against a shoulder, and she drifts to rest.