**Introduction:** This is the first chapter of a long story I am going to write. The title of the series is yet to be decided but it’s focused on the life of a professional hucow working on a commercial hucow farm. Hope you enjoy!
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# Prologue
Hi, I’m Molly, and… I don’t think much of myself. You see, I was never the sharpest tool in the shade growing up, and I think that is pretty evident in the fact that I’m graduating high school at 20, almost 21 in fact 😂 But it’s okay. I’m still doing okay-ish in life. I had to retake a few courses and it took me a few more years to finish high school compared to the average student, but the main thing is that I got the paper saying I graduated.
But now that I’ve graduated, it’s time for me to move out of my parent’s house and I have no plan set up for that. I feel like such a loser compared to my 3 older siblings. All of them are older than me, and they are doing super great in life. Compared to them, I don’t think much of myself. My parents don’t really think much of me either. Both of them are extremely career-oriented and their perception of life is skewed in that way. So naturally, I’m a complete failure in their eyes and I feel like they’re much happier about my first three siblings than about me.
I honestly don’t really know what to do from here. I wholeheartedly want to move out, but how? I could get a minimum-wage job, I guess, and slowly make something happen from there. But that would only reaffirm what everyone says about me being dumb because this route would still take me a few years to save up enough money to move out and start living on my own. I’ve already had enough of being the dumb girl who could only graduate high school at 20. I don’t want to be the dumb girl who still lives with her parents at 23! No, I need a job that pays well and doesn’t need any brains so that I can show my family that I am not as bad as they think! Wish I could go to the military like guys, but the Tomlinson act banned women from entering the military with the intention of steering healthy, young women toward the hucow industry.
Talking about the hucow industry, it’s actually a great option if you don’t care about what people think of you. With the government regulating the minimum wages and benefits in the hucow industry, I would get paid quite well, and living on the farm means I would get to get out of my family’s sphere where they can’t make me sad about myself anymore.
And I think I have the right figure for this line of work too. Unlike my siblings, I didn’t inherit the brains of my parents. But also unlike my siblings, I didn’t inherit their fragile health either! I have always been blessed with great health throughout my life. I’m young, I eat well, I sleep well, and I played high school volleyball until 19.
That gave me thick girl legs to begin with, but after quitting volleyball, I plumped up a little. That gave my tummy a softer look while keeping it flat, and I think my thighs and hips actually got thicker after quitting volleyball due to gaining some fat in the right places. I have heard the rumors about some pseudo-pregnancy treatments that the farms supposedly put hucows through quite often to boost their milk production, but I think I have big, healthy hips to survive such training.
But what really gives me the confidence of being a good candidate for this industry are the two large mammaries that my body quickly grew once it became free from the demands of physical sports. I know bigger boobs don’t mean better milk-making capabilities, but I think large ones like mine can take more abuse and keep soldiering on compared to what most of my friends have. A 5’7″ girl like me carrying a pair of 32Fs is definitely more suited for milking than the average 5’3″ girl with 32Bs.
But the thing is… it’s an embarrassing profession to go into. There are a lot of negative stigmas attached to the industry, and I’d forever be seen by other women as someone who “took the easy way out by selling her body instead of working hard like respectable women”.
But of course, morals were never my strong suit. As far as I know, you rarely have any opportunities to interact with the outside world once you’re put on a farm, so I could care less about what women like my older sisters would think of someone like me as long as I’m getting paid a lot to… basically, just exist and let my employees do whatever they want with my tits. With that thought in mind, I went and signed up for a 3-day hucow pre-evaluation program at a government facility.
# The 3-day hucow pre-evaluation program
The first evening we moved in, we had to hand over all our possessions at the check-in booth. These three days were intended to both evaluate our physical viability as hucows and to give us an idea of what it’s like being on an actual hucow farm. We were divided into groups of 10 girls and shown to our dorm room where we would all stay for the duration of the program. While clean, the room could practically only be considered large enough for 3 adult individuals. There was no furniture except 5 bunk beds and a small dresser that had 5 sets of personal care supplies- soap, shampoo, moisturizer, a comb, and a hair tie. The beds and the dresser were crammed into the little room leaving just enough space to walk in between.
Dinner was served in a large dining hall that had long tables with benches on either side. The food was nothing to write home about but it filled the belly well. After dinner, we had some time to get acquainted with each other before an alarm went off signaling the time to sleep. The lights turned off minutes after and one by one, we all went to sleep.
The morning began early the next day at 6 AM. Our instructor told us that this is the normal time for the first milking session for professional hucows, but apparently, most of them woke up earlier and lined up in front of the milking barn voluntarily simply because they wanted relief from the immense milk pressure inside their breasts that would develop overnight.
After breakfast in the same dining hall as dinner, we had a tour of the facility. The rest of the day was filled with some physical tests to gauge our physical fitness levels. I was surprised to find out that I had lost almost all of my athleticism and fitness in the two years that I have been out of sports.
The next morning, our physical measurements were taken followed by thorough gynecological check-ups. I scored top marks here in both fertility and the health of my overall female genital system. I think the fact that I had never taken birth control helped with this. Girls on birth control or those who had recently gotten off didn’t impress the instructors much. Apparently, it takes some time for the body to work its way out of the artificial hormonal situation created by birth control medication, and that interferes with the full-throttle milk production that farms would want from us very soon. The lady who asked me the questions and did my tests smiled wide when I said that I had never taken birth control and had had regular, strong periods all through my adult life.
After lunch, specific breast examinations began. Mammographs were taken of each breast and they measured the amount of glandular tissue each girl had compared to fat. It was explained to us that glandular tissue correlated directly with the amount of milk a girl could produce while fat helped with endurance and resilience by supporting the function of milk production indirectly. So while more was always better, the instructors were more impressed by girls who had a lot of glandular tissue rather than just large breasts overall.
By the look of things, it seemed like girls with average-sized but firm boobs actually had the most amount of glandular tissue while larger breasts were fattier, and smaller ones were just physically too small to accommodate a good amount of glands. So I started worrying that my pair of large tits would actually become a hindrance for me.
But I was pleasantly surprised at the result the mammograph lady read out to me. “You are a great specimen, Molly. Big tits, just full of mammary glands… nice, dense network of glandular tissue all throughout both breasts…” she said to me while looking at the image in her hands. “Nice, wide breast roots. Farmers always love to see that, that means you can grow in size and weight a whole lot without stretching out the connective tissue that attaches your boobs to your torso.”
“Only issue I see here is that you’ve got a relatively small number of actual milk ducts under your nipples. You have a lot of milk glands but they are converging down to a fewer number of milk ducts than average. Glands are the things that actually produce milk. Ducts are like the little pipes that your milk flows through from the glands to your nipples. So that means you can make a lot of milk but you don’t have a lot of lanes for the milk to pass through. So each of your ducts will have to accommodate and transfer a lot more milk than average. But don’t worry. All that technical jargon just means that your farmer will have to use a higher pumping pressure for you than the other girls so that they can pull out all your sweet milk in time, nothing else!”
After saying this, she printed out a large QR code and pasted it on the side of my neck. Then she said, “This contains all your relevant information. As you know, tomorrow is auction day, and farmers from both government and private farms will come to look at you and all your sisters here. They will be able to scan your QR code and see everything they need to know about you. If someone likes you, they will offer you a contract that you will need to sign. You are free to explore and reject as many contracts as you wish to, but once you sign with a farm, know that it will be legally binding and there’d be no going back until you give them the number of gallons you promised.”
Sensing my anxiety after the last comment about my breast anatomy, she continued to assure me, “Tomorrow is also your chance to pull out and leave the program, but we encourage you to talk to a few farms and see what they have to offer. I promise you that even the worse contracts will pay right from the beginning significantly more than what 90% of people will be able to earn 10 years into their traditional careers. Always know that you’ll be providing an extremely valuable service to society, and society will appreciate your efforts through the fat paychecks, okay?”
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**P.s.** If anyone has comments, suggestions, ideas, etc. please let me know. I love feedback!
Also, if anyone wants to collaborate with me in writing this story, feel free to approach me in my DMs with your ideas and an example of your previous work.
Love, Vikky!
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/11xhkgc/the_life_of_a_professional_hucow_chapter_1_molly
Eager for part 2
I love this so far. Perfect level of detail and the style or writing is superb.
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Love this!!
Love this!!
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This is great, very nicely explained can’t wait for part 2
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Awesome start, can’t wait to read more
So hot, love it!
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Oh ok thanks
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Definitely update me. This is hot.
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Looking forward to the next post
Okay. I am really excited to see where this story goes to from here.
Great writing but really dystopian.
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