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The road to Hathor's Pastures

by Windrammer

The road to Hathor's Pastures

After a relatively rough day at work, Jeff was relieved to be on the way home; the spring weather was invigorating and reminded him how small one bad day looked in the grand scheme of things. Just as he was getting ready to hop onto the C-line and head for home, he couldn’t help but notice a very out-of-place woman. She was a bit on the shorter side, with a plump sort of curviness and had been generously endowed with a pair of breasts that looked more like swollen udders rather than something you’d see on a woman. She was alternating between examining the subway map as if it were some mysterious artifact and glancing around with a worried look. What the hell, thought Jeff, I’ve got nowhere to be
“Uh, excuse me. Are you lost?” The woman flashed him a thankful smile; “Yes, actually. I meant to take a bus out of this city, but I think I may have missed it, do you know a place I could stay for a few days on the cheap while I try to get another ticket? I don’t think I can afford a hotel…”
“Well, if you can’t afford a hotel, I don’t know many places you could stay. Did you try googling anything?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have a smartphone or a computer.”
“Hmm…My apartment has wifi and if you like, you’re welcome to use to it make a plan.” Mentally, Jeff kicked himself—why did he have to respond in the most axe-murder-y way possible? Hey there lost woman, why don’t I take you out of this public place and back to my secluded apartment? Oddly enough, she just beamed at said “That would be lovely! I’m May, by the way.”
“Jeff. Pleased to meet you.
On their way back, it became evident just how out of her element she was here; she didn’t have any electronics or enough money to afford a subway ticket, and upon closer inspection her clothes seemed to be hand sewn somewhat crudely—it wasn’t noticeable at a distance, but the stitching seemed haphazard and irregular. As they were climbing the stairs to his floor, Jeff asked, “Where is it you’re trying to get to anyways?”
“Hathor’s Pastures.”
“Is that a farm?”
“Sort of. It’s in farmland, but that’s about all I know as to where it is—I never really got a great grasp on geography or anything…”
A few minutes of Googling found the website, and going by the tagline—‘where cattle live in bliss’—it seemed to be a ranch of some kind, though it had shady stamped all over it. There were no pictures of the place, no mention of products or buying anything and lots of text encouraging people to visit: “Our gates are open to all…”, “…we’re happy to share our joys with you”, “temporary stays will leave you content in a busy and noisy world”.
“Uh…May? Are you trying to rejoin a cult?”
“Oh no! We’re not forced to live on the whims of some tyrannical prophet or anything. Hathor lets us come and go as we please! It was just my first time away from the pastures and I got separated from a friend in the crowds.”
Oh good, it’s not a cult, it’s just a religious group overseen by someone calling themselves an Egyptian god that raised you without leaving their sphere of influence. “Have you considered that staying in the city might be better for you?” May let out a giggle, “No thanks. I guess you haven’t been there so you wouldn’t understand, but even the weekend visitors say it’s better than the city. It’s just playing and milking and living in the sun—I only left because Hathor said I should see both worlds before deciding which one to spend my life in.” This did little to win Jeff over, but he supposed that if going back would make her that happy, then that was her choice. “It says her that the next bus to the area isn’t for five days. You can stay if you want, I’ve got an inflatable mattress.”
“Thank you! You’ve been so kind! I’ll be sure to tell Hathor all about you!”
After some more small talk about what she liked in the city, Jeff’s curiosity finally won out and he asked some more about the pastures; “So there are city people who, do what, vacation there?”
“Oh yes, they let Hathor soothe over all their worries and stresses and temporarily enjoy the life of a cow; docile, peaceful and with all the milkings you could ever ask for!”
“Wait, they’re the ones getting milked?”
“Of course, it’s one of life’s greatest joys! We all drink each other’s milk. Speaking of,” she said, pulling off her top and revealing her bare breasts “I’ve actually gotten pretty swollen without the other cows, care to give it a try?”
Jeff desperately tried to maintain his composure as he all but blurted out “Sure, why not?
He put her head in her lap and she affectionately guided his head to her left nipple, where his first suckle was greeted with a rush of sweet, creamy warm milk. She tilted her head back and let out a long, peaceful Moo, which oddly enough seemed perfectly natural to Jeff as his thoughts slowly melted away. His entire consciousness was focused on savoring her milk, and when she started running fingers through his hair and whispering into his ear, he was too lost in the taste to really make an effort to hear her. Even when she loosened his pants and started gently stroking his rock-hard cock, he remained in that state of drowsy euphoria until he fell asleep with his lips still around her nipple. As the five days passed, drinking May’s milk quickly became a pastime of his, coming home from work to see her naked and on all fours (she had said that she was used to it from her time at the meadows and really preferred it) and immediately engaging in the breastfeeding that made his mind feel wonderfully foggy. On the second day, he actually answered one of May’s Moos with a thankful Moo of his own—something that seemed funny to him at first, but the more he thought about it, the more natural and good it felt—like a way of expressing thanks to the universe. On the third day he too was on all fours, and was rapidly finding that the more docile and bovine he was becoming, the more happy and calm he felt. On the morning of day four, after waking up from the floor—where all good animals slept—May leaned over and said; “You’ve been so nice to me—I promise I tell Hathor all about you, and I know she’ll let you live in the pastures if you want to. Wouldn’t it be nice to live like this forever? Warm milk, warm delicious grass, sharing milk freely with your fellow cows, never having to worry or think too hard again?” Jeff merely replied with a nod and a nuzzle.
While they were both clothed and looked relatively normal on the bus ride there, Jeff was still swamped in the warm afterglow of his docility, eyes glazed and nestled up against his fellow cow. Occasionally an unintentional Moo would slip out, but it didn’t really matter. Even if other people heard it, it’s not like they would see him again; he was going to live in the pastures from now on.
When the bus finally dropped them off a short way from the gates to his new home, Jeff took off his shoes to feel the soft emerald grass beneath his feet and all but sprinted to his new home. May looked on and chuckled before running back to the most wonderful place she’d ever known—Hathor was going to make him into an amazing cow.


Re: The road to Hathor's Pastures - icemsn

mooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, I want to join them

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