The office employees have avoided Jason Shaw for the last week as much as possible. They attribute his stress to the imminent board meeting, but still. The way he snaps at his receptionist, barks at the lower level employees? They've had enough. At least it all ends this afternoon. The board's luxury cars began to pull up at eleven, and while they take yet another tour of the facilities, Jason prepares his presentation.
Tommy sits quietly beside him as Jason struggles with the projector, muttering to himself with every click and change of his slides. It was a fit just to get the projector screen pulled down.
"You okay, Jay?" Tommy asks softly. He prepares himself for the blowback.
Jason levels him with a glare, a look weighed down by the purple bags sagging beneath his eyes. He snaps, "I'm fine."
Tommy shrugs. "Don't seem so fine."
"I said what I said." Jason doesn't look up as he continues to fiddle. "Don't you have livestock to milk somewhere?"
"Is this about Essie?" Tommy goes on, ignoring the pointed question. "Because you know she's well-behaved now. She barely gives you a second glance. Must be something to do with how resistant she is in the first place. Add that as a positive for the board, and we might as well tell them."
Jason slams his laptop shut. "Fat fucking chance. How do you think–"
The hefty, regal wooden door to the conference room creeps open. Amelia pokes her head inside. "Ready for us yet?"
Jason grunts and gestures for her to join them. She files inside with her top medical assistants at her side. They begin arranging McCarthy's poster displays and going through notecards should any of the board deign to ask the assistants a specific question.
"What's up your ass?" Amelia asks, perching beside Tommy on the edge of the conference table.
"What do you think?" Jason spits. Amelia puts her hands up in surrender.
They work quietly for the next thirty minutes, the room busying themselves with reviews and rehearsals. Jason clicks absently through his PowerPoint. He tries to seem as involved as the rest of them; he has to. But his mind is far gone and it has been for the last seven days. Every second of silence in his mind is filled with the taste of Essie May, with the sight of her wet, wanting hole begging him to take her. He knows it's the milk. It has to be - he fucked her once and didn't give it a second thought. It was perfunctory. But now, her flavor lingers in his every action. Every spare thought is a scheme to see her again, to completely drain her before he unloads himself inside her. Nothing satisfies him anymore. Water, liquor, standard dairy - none of it comes close to her. To the sweet, fluffy, warm and rich–
"Jay? You okay?"
Jason startles and finds his two closest employees staring at him.
Amelia analyzes him quickly. "Are you short of breath? You're breaking out in a sweat. Seems like a panic attack. Purewal, go get Mr. Shaw a glass of water. Move it!"
Purewal darts from the room as fast as her stick legs can carry her.
Jason brushes them off. "I'm fine, for god's fucking sake. Let's just get this over with."
As Purewal returns with a paper cup filled to the brim, Jason's receptionist holds the door for the board members.
"Thank you, Hillary," Jason says. She nods and disappears back to her desk. In her place, the nine members of the board play meet and greet with the staff. Jason shakes each of their hands with a prayer they don't feel his sweat. Once everyone has taken their seat, Jason powers up his presentation, and begins.
The meeting goes smoothly enough. Their facts and figures line up with projections for this quarter, even exceeding them in some areas like staff performance and sales, particularly on the east coast. After a polite clap, Jason allows Dr. McCarthy to update the board on their medical progress. She describes the quicker speeds new drugs are being produced at, the overall satisfaction they're feeling with the status of their herd, and the more innovative technology they're championing. As McCarthy accepts her quiet applause, the tables turn to the board members and their questions or concerns.
Albert Oppelbaum puts a finger in the air. He is a stout, older man that Jason remembers beginning to bald when he was only eight.
"Now, JJ," Albert begins. Jason cringes at the childhood nickname. "This is all well and good. I'm assuming your father had some hand in this progress, no?"
Shaw bristles. "I'm sorry, Mr. Oppelbaum. Is that a question?"
The room stiffens. Tommy and Amelia exchange concerned glances.
Oppelbaum scoffs. "I'm asking, is all this success your own? Or is James out in Maryland, selling to vendors and letting you ride on his coattails?"
"My father hasn't touched the business since I took over last year," Jason says flatly. "He and my mother are somewhere in Europe. I honestly couldn't tell you at the moment; they prefer to not be disturbed. And I hope we all understand my father well enough to know he's never let anyone touch his coattails, let alone ride them."
The other board members chuckle.
Van Dressings, another aging member with wrinkles carved into his jowls, snorts, "Man wouldn't let someone borrow his pen. Forget trade secrets."
The others laugh more boisterously, Shaw's bluntness forgotten for the moment. In its place, Selma O'Hara, a gray-haired and prim woman in her plum pencil skirt and blazer, speaks up. "And while we're very happy with Shaw Farms' profits, I wonder what you're putting into action to keep your stock fresh. How are you attracting new, ahem, staff members? Certainly, you've thought about expanding?"
Shaw clears his throat and eyes Tommy, the signal for him to bring in their special presentation.
"Yes, Mrs. O'Hara. We have thought about expansion, and we believe we've found a way to broaden the criteria for qualifying participants," Jason says, attempting a warm smile as his nerves come alive.
The conference room doors open with a groan. Tommy enters first, touting an active handler's wand and pulling a pink lead behind him. Essie May follows him inside. As her eyes are trained on the glowing pink light, her face remains glassy and docile around her drooling tongue. Her medium brown hair is pulled into a high ponytail, the rest of her body closely groomed. She wears a white bikini that covers her just enough, as her breasts and pussy bulge around the tight fabric. Tommy doesn't turn the wand off, but sets it on the end of the table and positions Essie May at the front of the room. Jason clears his throat, now acutely aware of how dry he is.
Tommy begins, "This is EMT299, or Essie May, as we've taken to calling her. Ladies and gentleman, is there anything about Essie May that seems different to you from our typical stock?"
The board members lean in, inspecting Essie closely. Tommy turns her mindless body in a circle for them. He lifts up the cheeks of her bikini bottoms and pries the stretched fabric of her top loose to give them a full view. As he covers Essie May again, the board members shake their heads.
"What's the surprise, if you please?" Mrs. O'Hara asks with an impatient tap of her pen.
"Essie May came to us with an Overall Susceptibility Score of 3.4, our lowest in the history of Shaw Farms," Tommy says. The board members exchange wide-eyed glances.
"Surely, you exaggerate," Oppelbaum suggests.
Jason jumps in. "We wouldn't dream of it. Essie May has been with us for six weeks now, and took her place amongst the herd just two weeks ago. While we understand that that's double our normal processing time, I hope the board recognizes that Essie May is, quite frankly, a prototype. She is the first of such a low score to be admitted, and our staff was forced to experiment with a regiment that would adequately transform her."
Dressings asks, "And her production? Did she begin immediately once she was fully introduced?"
"No, sir," Tommy explains. "Essie May was ready mentally for the general population before she was ready physically. As her handler, I would say she was around eighty to eighty-five percent there in physicality, though her mental training was ninety-five to ninety-eight percent complete. Of course, there will be kinks with a new operation, and we took them in stride. Essie May started producing this past week after, frankly, a bit of a struggle. While her teats were filled to the brim with milk, her body hadn't processed that it was time to produce."
"And how did you resolve this issue?" Dressings continues, all the while focused on the line of drool slipping from Essie's mouth to the dip between her growing tits.
Tommy sighs. "It was a real head-scratcher, sir. This last Monday, it was as if her milk had dropped all on its own. She only gave us about a pint once she was able, and as you know, the first milking usually fills about two to three gallons. Her production increased over the week, though, and now she's up to a very standard four to six gallons."
Dressings jerks back to the conversation. "But not that redhead - what was she called? Harper? I remember the nine gallons she put out on the spot back in September."
As the others nod and murmur appreciatively, Selma O'Hara's voice cuts in again. "And you find that the time and effort spent on EMT299 was worth it? If I may be frank, that's quite a long period devoted to her training when you could easily be working with higher scoring stock, especially when she's only producing at average rates."
Shaw coughs gruffly once again. "Yes, we could be working with higher scoring stock. But these higher scores create a very limited market. Many of initial interviewees do not make the 7.25 minimum and in addition to our own loss, Shaw Farms is looking at this rate from a humanitarian standpoint, as well. These are women seeking refuge from circumstances I would not want to endure myself, Mrs. O'Hara, and we turn away nearly eighty percent of applicants. If we can perfect the methods applied to EMT299, we will see increases in profit and production while lowering the rate of women who remain homeless or trapped in unsafe environments. It's a win-win, from our perspective."
O'Hara does not respond while her board members mull over Shaw's theories. In the meantime, a knock sounds at the conference room door, and Tommy calls, "Come on in."
Two farmhands enter carrying serving trays. They balance twelve glasses of milk, fluffed and bubbling at the surface. Tommy helps hand all nine of the board their own drink and passes the remaining three to Jason, Amelia and himself.
He returns to Essie May's side and announces, "Now, as you can see, this is some of Shaw Farms' freshest yet. Essie May made it this morning, and I figured ya'll'd like a taste of our product as you consider our operations. Please, go ahead and partake."
The board members laughingly clink their glasses together, offering a cheers to Shaw and his team. They down their drinks quickly, as they always do when offered Shaw Farms product, while Jason's eyes burn at the sight of the glass in his hand. He wrestles with himself, knowing her sweetness is but a sip away, and that he might never stop if he starts again. He can't make up his mind before the board has finished theirs.
"That's... simply delicious," O'Hara sighs contentedly.
"I have to ask," Oppelbaum starts, a thick milk mustache spread across his upper lip, "it's been a minute since our last visit. Is her milk quite unique? I can't say that's the same flavor, but cross my heart, that's good."
Tommy grins behind his half-empty glass. "You're onto something Al, I tell you what. We're still working to devise why, but Essie May does make a very individual flavor."
Amelia pipes up, "We're proposing that it could be the amount of time she spent prepping for her program completion. She's our longest yet, and obviously, one of our best tasting."
The board members heartily agree. Oppelbaum asks, "And how about from the source?"
Jason's stomach clenches.
"The source?" Tommy unties Essie's bikini top and stuffs it in his pocket. Jason glances at her breasts from his peripheral vision and notices they've already gone up a size since he last saw them. Tommy positions Essie over the table and squeezes a few tablespoons directly into his glass. He offers it to Oppelbaum, who shakes his head with a chuckle.
"No, no," he says. "No one's sucked it straight from the teat?"
Jason clears his throat again. "We don't intend to waste any product on personal use."
Oppelbaum laughs. "Come now, JJ. We're all adults. Pass her here, if you will."
Jason gives Oppelbaum a grim smile and maneuvers Essie around to his side of the table. He pats his lap, and Jason sits Essie across Oppelbaum's legs. The other board members watch casually, as if Oppelbaum's been handed a soda.
He chuckles, "Now that's a hefty girl," and adjusts Essie until he's comfortable. Oppelbaum purses his lips and sucks Essie's nipple into his mouth, chugging along and downing at least another cup's worth. Essie is unchanged, drool still oozing down her chin and into her tits. Oppelbaum wipes his face clean with his hanky and folds it back into his breast pocket. He licks his lips with a smack and announces to the other members, "Much the same as the glass, but nice and warm. Anyone else?"
George Evans, a younger member of the group but still met with a receding hairline, speaks for the first time. "I'll take a sip."
Oppelbaum lifts Essie from her position and hands her off to Tommy, who brings her into Evans' hands. Jason can't do anything but watch as one by one, the eight other board members take turns drawing from Essie's breasts. His body is rigid as he imagines her milk traveling down their throats, soothing them and leaving nothing for him. As Tommy lifts her out of Henriette Washington's grasp, Henriette gives the room a surprised, "Oh!"
"Yes, ma'am?" Tommy asks, eyebrows furrowed.
"Nothing, nothing," Henriette assures. "It's just, your cow - she's left a little stain on me."
Tommy nods, "Very sorry, ma'am. As I'm sure you've heard, milking them does tend to stimulate their senses. Once we get her settled in her stall, I'm sure she'll be plenty worked up."
Dressings looks her up and down hungrily. "Oh, yeah? Honestly, I'd forgotten they're so easily aroused. And why isn't she going mad right now?"
Tommy gestures to the handler's wand still glowing at the other end of the table. "Not only does it emit a light, but a sound only perceptible to their ears. It kind of hacks into their training and turns 'em off, makes 'em easy for us to transport. They're naturally drawn to it; it's in their base nature, now."
"And they remember this state?" O'Hara asks.
McCarthy answers, "No. The light and sound bypass all the systems we program into them and takes them to their blankest state, which would be their most impressionable, if not for the stimuli circumnavigating their memory as well. It's one of our newer tools, developed about five years ago and implemented two months ago. Before the wand, we were using megaphones and attempting to give the entire herd commands. It was much less efficient."
The members turn their attention to Essie and her lack of function. Her thick trail of saliva has worked down her chest and is sliding across her stomach. Essie's body sways as it balances upright, her eyes and face completely vacuous.
"I see," O'Hara says.
Jason processes the sharp look in the board's eyes and that it centers around Essie May. If he had all the time in the world, he would be the first to suggest passing Essie around the room again and letting the board take a spin. However, he feels the sweat misting his back and pooling at his belt line. His mouth is empty, and the glass in his hand taunts him. Jason craves escape more than the board's support.
"If there are no further questions," Jason says, jolting the board out of their stupor, "I'd be happy to escort you all out to the–"
"Jason, you're too much like your father!" Dressings interrupts. "Always in a hurry. Now, Tommy, was it? Would you mind undressing the cow?"
Tommy moves quickly. "No problem, sir."
He looks to Jason with pleasant surprise. Tommy mumbles, "I guess they do want their own fucktoy."
Jason's heart hammers in his chest as Tommy brings a naked Essie May back to Dressings. "I'm - I'm sorry, sir, my father never... I wasn't aware–"
"Oh, don't have an episode," Dressings jokes. The other board members look on, again, as if the meeting is nothing but mundane document review. "I'm sure your father mentioned that we tend to sample your products. Now, not James. Your father never wanted to mix his own business and pleasure."
"But we have an interest in our investments," Oppelbaum adds.
"Exactly," Dressings agrees. He unzips his slacks and pulls his cock free of his boxers. Tommy helps him position Essie on the conference table, completely unaware and tilting forward in her slack position. Dressings spreads her pussy lips with two of his fingers that come away slick and shiny. He licks them as if tasting wine. "Not exactly milk, but sweet enough."
Dressings unceremoniously slams his dick into Essie's cunt, stretching her around him by force. He pumps in and out around his fellow board members, commenting all the while. "Nice and tight, very nice. She's certainly wet with very little stimulation. Should be a real treat in the playpen."
The others hum as if taking note. Dressings asks, "Anyone else up after myself?"
They shake their heads, dismissing him casually. Oppelbaum cracks a smile. "No one's interested in your sloppy seconds, Van."
The room chuckles while Jason grinds his fingernails into his palms. He can't take his eyes off Essie and the empty way she rocks back and forth with Dressings' movement. He starts fucking faster, ramping up his speed the closer he gets. Other than his unzipped trousers, Dressings remains unchanged. As he builds to his own climax, he asks, "What would happen if we were to turn off that machine right now?"
"Are you interested, sir?" Tommy asks, taking the wand into his hands.
"Yeah, let's see what she sounds like," Dressings replies.
Tommy flips the wand's switch, and Essie's body comes to life. Her eyes dart around the room as she takes in her surroundings and the pressure builds in her abdomen. Her moans are immediate, loud, and pathetic. The other board members laugh, and Essie tries to turn toward the sound, but can barely crane her neck as her head falls back and animalistic grunts take over. She can't seem to pull her tongue back into her mouth, not with the sensation of her cunt tight and stuffed. Her tits dribble milk with every thrust.
Dressings gives her a smile as Essie starts moving with him, grinding against his dick and huffing. "Awe, she likes me."
The board members chortle and start to take their leave.
"You close, Dressings?" O'Hara asks.
"Almost there," he answers, showing strain for the first time.
"Alright, we'll be waiting in the lobby," Oppelbaum announces. "Great work, Shaw. We're looking forward to these expansions. Bring in plenty of those." He gestures towards Essie.
Shaw forces a sharp laugh. "Will do. Thank you for your time, everyone."
McCarthy has her interns pack up their presentation materials and leads them out, heading back for their lab. She gives a thumbs up to Shaw as the door closes behind her, who returns nothing.
Essie is mooing lowly with her orgasm before Dressings, and weakening as he continues to pump inside her. Finally, with a nasal, "Oh! Oh!", Dressings cums. He takes a moment to give Essie one final thrust, one that has her moaning before the sound is cut short. Tommy turns the wand back on, and Essie's features return to blank nothingness. She lies flat on her back atop the table as Dressings pulls out, stuffs himself back into his pants, and zips his fly. He shakes Shaw's hand and excuses himself, leaving Essie a leaking mess in the center of the conference room.
Tommy waits for the door to close completely. Then he turns to Shaw with a thrill. "That wand, huh? Kept her away from you real well. And I'd say that was the most they've liked our product all year."
"Yeah. Wonder why." Shaw yanks his laptop free of the HDMI cord and marches for the door. He's halfway out when Tommy calls to him.
"Jay, you left your drink."
Jason hesitates. Without a second look to Essie, he grabs the glass of milk and heads for the privacy of his office, finally. Thank fucking god.