"The Bell (Story)(Cons Hucow Public) « on: Yesterday at 01:3" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/DNdTNcRN Created on: Monday 18th of September 2017 08:28:25 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:17:49 AM UTC The Bell (Story)(Cons Hucow Public) « on: Yesterday at 01:38:24 PM » ReplyQuote The Bell By The Woman Eating Tiger 09-18-2017 Her hand slid over the bell. It was smooth and unadorned, attached to a simple brown leather collar. She seemed almost hypnotized by the simple object. "So, I'll be... would be wearing this?" "Or, one like it." The recruiter said. She spoke a little louder than was comfortable, to be heard over the constant background babble of the job fair. Her jeans and western style shirt had a uniform feel, rather than a casual one, even if it's open front showed a great deal of her braless breasts. The short sleeves had the appearance of being rolled up, and soft fitted gloves covered her hands. A cowboy (or would it be cowgirl?) hat sat back on her head. A large belt buckle, sporting the name "Millford Farms", and a lariat at her hip completed the costume. She was here to "rope" as much cattle as she could. The woman standing before the booth was in typical job seeker clothing: a cheap woman's business suite, and heels just a little higher than flats. She looked to be in her late twenties. Too old to be fresh out of college, and to young to be seasoned in her profession. One of many that found themselves without a job, because the career they trained for evaporated before they could secure a management position. One that was running out of options. The bell was warm in her hands, and the leather soft. "So, would I be... Um, part of the dairy..." "No, I'm afraid not. Those girls get recruited fresh out of high school. We get taught to do all kinds of things that aren't really good for our breasts, and that way, we can catch them before that." "Oh, and I suppose they're the breeders, as well?" "Some, but not many. That's much more complicated. A lot of genetic qualifications, and the like. Few "free rangers", as we like to call those like you, would pass muster for that. Besides, breeding does a lot of long term lowering of the quality of the..." "Oh, yes! Of course. That is what it's all about, isn't it?" She didn't even look up from the bell, as all this was said. Her fingers traced the rim. Then, she does glance away, to look at the poster of a herd member in a cow patterned swimsuit style leotard displayed on the table. "And, that's what I... They wear? All the time, or?" The question hung from her tongue, as she struggled to put it into words. "Some do, some don't. And, there's a lot of personal choice in it. Two piece, one piece, different cut and fasions. Mostly, the collar, cuffs, and horns are the required uniform. Naturally, you would be expected to have some kind of costume when in certain settings." "And the bell?" "That's a part of the collar, of course." The applicant starts to blink, as if coming out of a trance. "Wait. What about the horns? They look like... I can't see how they're attached." "They're sort of a body modification. The horns themselves are just a light plastic. They lock onto studs, though. And those are permanently attached to your skull." "Then, that will require what? Drilling?" "Yes, but it's not that much worse than a trip to the dentist, or so I'm told. They use a local anesthetic. You'll be sore for a bit, but that's it." The applicant seemed to make a grunt at this, but the sound was lost in the crowd noise. Her attention on the poster moved down a little on the cow in the poster. "What about the ring? In her nose, that is?" "Once again, it's a bit of a personal thing. Some girls like to get piercings, once they join the herd. Some don't. The same crew that does the horn studs, does them as well." "That's a lot of work on a... a cow... for just... How long do we...?" "As long as a year, but most, far less. As little as a couple of weeks. It depends on your quality, and your potential for even better quality." "What do you mean?" "Well, looking at you, what I can see of you," the recruiter said, looking at the calves of the woman before her, "it looks like you've spent a lot of time at the gym." "Well, the memberships paid for, and I've... had free time." "And, it looks like it's paid off. Your thighs are, well, they're on the verge of ripping that skirt. And not in a bad way. In a good quality way. Lots of squats went into those. If you didn't have quality, or at least the potential for it, I wouldn't even be spending time with you. But, you. You could get snapped up fast. Or, the trainers may keep you around a while, because you could add even more quality. You're worth my time. You could be worth a great deal to Millford Farms." "How long would I have to wait to hear back, if I apply today?" "Oh, I hope to have you going back with us tonight." "Tonight, like now?" "Yes. Here and now. I want to make you part of our herd. That's what I'm here for. That's what you're here for, isn't it? You're here for a job, and I'm prepared to give you one. A job for life. A job of a lifetime. But..." "Yes?" "I need to see your quality. You need to show it to me. You can do that, can't you?" "Here? With all these..." "And now. In front of 'all these'. Because, if you can't do that, if you're not prepared to go that far, how can we expect you to take the next step. Because, if you join the Millford Farms herd, you WILL be showing your quality to anyone that wants to see it. You will offer to show them, before they even ask. If you can't do this, here and now, we've been wasting our time here. So..." The applicant's eyes had closed during that, as if imagining what it would be like... And, without opening them, she began pulling off her suite coat. Once it was off her shoulders, she just let it drop to the floor, mindless of the dust and grime of the tiles at her feet. She opened her eyes, and for the first time, looked right at the recruiter, as she unbuttoned her blouse with the bell still in one hand. She reached behind herself, to let the zipper of her skirt down. Then, without breaking eye-lock, she shoved, only to find resistance on those muscular thighs. She smiled with a mischievous twist of her mouth, and flexed. The garment tore in at least two places, to slide down her legs. Rather than step out of it, she widened her stance, ripping the rest of it apart. As she shrugged out of the blouse, she transferred the bell from one hand to the other. Standing in a much more quiet crowd, in just a bra and panties, she looked down at the object in her hand. Then, back at the recruiter. "Can I put this on, now?" "Once I have your signature, here." and, handed over a clipboard with a form on it. The applicant put her name, a name that would no longer matter, on the form, and signed. She handed it back, and lifted the bell to her lips. She kissed it like it was some kind of holy sacrament. And in away, it was. She then wrapped the collar around her neck, biting her lip as she tightened the buckle. From behind the table, the recruiter brought out the cuffs. Made from the same soft leather, she handed them to the new cow. The cow took the two smaller ones, and placed them on each wrist. Then, one foot at a time, she lifted them up to the table, discarded the shoe and sock, and placed the cuff where it belonged. The recruiter handed her a garbage bag, and without prompting, the cow tossed the now useless clothing that had belonged to that nameless, and forgotten, applicant in. Then, she pulled off the last bits of what was left, and stuffed them in as well. The bag, as well as the applicants briefcase, were put behind the booth table. The recruiter took a leash, and clipped it to her new cow's collar. With her other hand, she secured the wrist cuffs together, using a carabiner. "Let's get you out to the trailer. Be sure to show how you feel about joining the Millford Farms herd. Let'um hear that bell, and show them your quality." The cow grinned and swayed her chest back and forth, letting the bell clang, as she was lead down the main isle, and out the front door. She swished her hips as if she had a tail, and winked at a few women, with a nod to say "join me". Kelly, the recruiter, sat back down, next to her partner in the booth. "That's five, and it isn't even lunch time." Becka laughed. "Your little display has gotten a few girls exited, over there." She nodded to a refreshment table, where a knot of women were looking over brochures, and glancing back in their direction. "None of them have worked up the courage to come over and chat, yet." "I's only a matter of time. They know they're meat on the hoof. It's just deciding whether it's the corporate grind, or the hamburger grind they want." "Speaking of, how long do you think that one will last?" "Oh, I figure she'll be on a plate in two weeks, tops. And, she knows it. She came here with the idea in her head. The gym bunnies make our jobs much easier. They work hard to make themselves into so much meat, they practically jump at the chance to give it away. To show how well they've done." "You ever think about it?" Becka said with a smirk. "Oh, it'll happen eventually. I'm not ready, just yet. Too many to bring in, to join myself. And, don't pretend you aren't thinking about when you're gonna do it either. Whoops, here they come. Three at one go, even. Looks like we're gonna need more cow bells."