Chapter 11: Daisy Moo Day

Piglet stirred again. Ducky's arms were still wrapped around her, the little ducky's face pressed into Piglet's thighs, breathing slow and even.

Piglet found herself straddling ducky, her face settled atop Ducky's cum crusted pussy-she could smell the faint scent of spearmint still clinging to her crotch.

She looked up at the shelf. They had fallen asleep in a sixty-nice position. A heat of passion after watching the video.

The black cases. A dozen of them. Maybe more.
Were they all that brutal?

Her young mind turned the question over like a stone in her palm. Miss Goat had given her life freely. Had begged for it, really—not just to die, but to experience the dying. To get off on it.

The image replayed: the athletic body climbing onto the butcher block, the serene expression, the cheerful display of youthfulness-then the cleaver.

Piglet's vagina responded before her mind could catch up. Wetness gathered, warm and insistent.

She thought about the chops she'd consumed. The herb butter. The grease on her fingers.

She'd eaten Miss Goat. Mouthwateringly delicious. How could something that tasted so good be wrong?

Everyone had enjoyed her meat—well, not the birds, obviously, but everyone else. Coach had gone back for seconds. Fred had licked his fingers.

Her hand drifted between her legs. She rubbed herself slowly, the motion sleepy and automatic. Her brain needed to shut down. Reboot. The last coherent thought before sleep dragged her under: I'm a piglet. Piglets eat everything.
---
Ms. Baker settled into her chair with a soft exhale of satisfaction. Her home office was arranged like a doctor's examination room—blood pressure cuff mounted on the wall, otoscope and ophthalmoscope charging in their cradle, a glass cabinet displaying stainless steel instruments in neat rows.

The examination table was upholstered in white vinyl, a fresh sheet of sanitary paper stretched across its surface.

Her chair, though, was her private indulgence: high-backed and ergonomic, upholstered in fine human leather that had once belonged to some very grateful pet.

She sipped her morning brew—black coffee, a single sugar—and watched the monitor.

The screen was split into four quadrants. The upper left showed the theater, where her two pets lay tangled under blankets.

The upper right cycled through the barn, the kitchen, the cellar. She tapped a key and brought up the recording from the hidden theater camera facing the pews.

It had captured everything: the zombie movie selection too sexually excited to watch, the moment piglet woke- eyes that found the top shelf.

Then movement-piglet, her curious piglet, reaching up.

Ms. Baker smiled. The bait had been taken. She could have grabbed any case—the cooking tutorials, the farm orientation videos, the tasteful erotica.

But she'd chosen FFATHLG. The most disturbing one. The one with the cleaver.
Ms. Baker zoomed in, studying her pets' reactions. Piglet's jaw going slack. Ducky's sleepy recognition.

The range of emotions that had flooded their faces—shock, horror, a strange and terrible arousal.

Then the big reveal:
Ms. Baker's own voice from behind the camera. The word had landed like a bell. “mommy”, “good girl”, pet.

Ms. Baker took notes on her legal pad. Trigger effects appear to function via recorded media. Interesting.
She can see a potential applications.

She could see the repulsion in Piglet's body language—the hand pressed to her mouth, the trembling fingers—and she could see the sexual charge beneath it.

The way those same fingers had drifted between her legs.
The way her breathing had changed.

Desired effect achieved.
She took another sip.

Let the my pet contemplate what she'd learned.

Let her wrestle with the delicious contradiction: that death could be a gift, that consumption could be an act of love, that the most horrifying thing she'd ever witnessed had also made her wetter than she'd ever been.

Time to schedule a private examination. Show how a veterinarian examines a pet, Add a few triggers if necessary.

—-

A red light flashed on her console.

Ms. Baker's eyes flicked to the barn camera. She remotely shift the camera- there, in the corner of the frame, Daisy Moo lay on her side in the straw, her pregnant belly contracting in visible waves, her mouth open in a soundless moan.

Ms. Baker looked back at the theater monitor. Her pets still slept.
She rose from the chair. Collecting her lab coat. She walked briskly down the hallway, her heels clicking on the hardwood.

The theater door swung open, and she clapped her hands twice.
"Wake up, my pets. We have exciting news."

Ducky stirred first, her dark eyes blinking open. "Ms. Baker?" Ducky responded sluggishly.

"Daisy Moo is in labor."

Ducky push on piglet to get off her- piglet let her escape her embrace, she was on her feet before the sentence mellow.

She didn't even grab a blanket. Her bare feet slapped against the theater floor.

Piglet was still struggling to her feet, her limbs were heavy with interrupted sleep, her mind still foggy with dreams of goats and cleavers and the taste of mutton on her tongue.

"Daisy's in labor," Ms. Baker repeated, her voice dropping into that melodic register. "She needs you, Piglet. She needs her farm family. You want to be a good girl, don't you?"
Piglet moved with better effort.

“Good girl”

The pleasure hit, and Piglet's knees nearly buckled. She caught herself on the armrest, her body responding to the command even as her brain lagged behind.

Yes. Yes, she wanted to be good. She wanted to be there for Daisy.

"Good girl” Ms Baker reinforced her trigger for good measures.

“Now hurry along pet." Is a softer yet still commanding.

Another wave of pleasure, and Piglet was moving, her feet carrying her through the farmhouse.
The morning sun was just cresting the treeline, painting the barn in shades of gold and rose.

She could hear Ducky's voice inside, soft and coaxing, and beneath it, Daisy's low, guttural moans.
---
Ms. Baker followed at a measured pace, her white coat billowing slightly in the breeze. She paused at the barn door, surveying the scene. Daisy on her side in the straw.

Ducky holding her hand. Piglet kneeling near Daisy's head, stroking her sweat-damp hair.

Daisy's low, rhythmic moaning, could smell the hay and the milk and something new—something primal and urgent.

She dropped to her knees in the straw beside the laboring cow. Daisy's blue eyes were wide and glassy, her blonde hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. Her belly rippled, the muscles clenching and releasing.

Ducky took her hand and squeezed. "I'm here," Ducky breathed. "I'm here, Daisy. You're not alone."

---

"Her water hasn't broken yet," Ms. Baker observed, kneeling beside the laboring cow. She pressed two fingers to Daisy's belly, feeling the contractions.

"But it's close. Very close."
Daisy moaned, her head turning, her eyes finding Ms. Baker's face. For the first time in months, words formed on her lips. "Mama... it hurts."

"I know, sweet girl. I know." Ms. Baker's voice was gentler than Piglet had ever heard it.

"But you're doing beautifully. Your little calf will be here soon. And then we'll have fresh milk, and a new friend for the farm, and you'll be a mama yourself. Won't that be wonderful?"

Daisy's eyes filled with tears. She nodded, her lip trembling.

Piglet stroked her hair, murmuring nonsense comfort sounds. Ducky pressed kisses all over Daisy face as Ms. Baker knelt in the straw, her white coat pooling around her, her hands steady and sure on the laboring belly.

The contractions came faster now. Daisy's moans rose in pitch. The barn filled with the sounds of straining flesh and soft encouragement, the first true birth- first that piglet had ever witnessed.

This is death's opposite, she thought, her hand still moving through Daisy's hair. This is where it begins.

Ms. Baker caught her eye across Daisy's heaving body. That calculating look was back, but softer now. Almost maternal.

"Nature gives life and nature takes," she said, as though reading Piglet's mind.

"The farm is a cycle. You'll understand that soon enough."

Outside, the rooster crowed again. The sun climbed higher.
Wonderful thing are happening in the barn,

Daisy Moo pushed her calf toward the world.
Ms. Baker rose from the straw, brushing off her coat. Holding the new calf. A beautiful blond girl.
Daisy cried out again, was it possible? She wrapped the child and carefully handed the newborn cafe to piglet.

Piglet held her to her chest motherly instinct swelling. Something else as well. A slight hunger.

ducky hugged Daisy face, she wanted to see the baby yet Daisy needed her more.

Ms Baker reached back in. She questioned her ability- missing a second child. The heat beats has sound normal. Was it possible both cafe heartbeat beat in unison?

Needless to say she pulled another child. “A baby bull!” Ms Baker smiled.

Twins’ a boy and a girl. Bull and cow. After cutting the cord she wrap him up too.

Daisy was exhausted yet the pain ended. She laid in the straw her inflated belly now a shriveled empty sack.

Both pets were laid by their momma’s head. Daisy smiled, closing her eyes for a much needed rest.

Ducky and piglet surround the trio. Stroking the newcomers and congratulating Daisy.

Ms. Baker had set you a nursery for this event. She would have to adjust her plans add another bassinet. Bring them out to Daisy for feeding. Keep her milk flowing.

She had calls to make, a celebration dinner to plan. She looked down at her family-her pets.

She instructed the girls to carry the newborns to the farm house.

Ducky was careful, not too heavy for her little body

They walk on the fresh wet morning grass. Each with bundle in hand.

Ms Baker pull the wrap down, exposing the face of the newborn bull. The bonus pet. Piglet held him in a mothers embrace.

“What she we have for breakfast?” Ms Baker ask as she pinched the baby bulls cheek.

Piglet mouth open wide, she clenched the baby to herself in babies defense.

“Not them you silly piglet.”
Ducky hadn’t been paying attention yet felt piglet tense up.
“They are much too valuable.”

Ms Baker ran the numbers. A future milker and a valued bull-when willing and able’ can impregnated hundreds of cows.

“Does ducky want some hot buttery cornbread and peach cobbler?”

Ducky would of bounce had not been for the baby calf she held.

It broke the tension.

“How about you piglet’ some eggs and goat bacon?”

Piglet looked up at her, “Yes Please.”