Out in the pasture, Elsie and her younger protege, Bess, a hucow in training, are chained together by their iron collars. Attached to the middle of the chain they share the coveted cowbell. Elsie, being a good cow, has taken seriously her task to mentor Bess. She has shown her the ways of the foraging life, the ways of the herd. She diverts hungry calves to suckle at the dry Bess. Irresistible maternal instincts are emerging and finally lactation is coming on.

Bess watches with envy the semen treat Elsie receives while being milked. Watches with envy the satisfaction so evident from giving up her dairy product. Watches with envy Elsie's cunt quiver and queef as a cock in the mouth and the sucking of the machine overwhelm.

The always expanding herd needs to be culled now and then, profits taken. Some cows become old and their milk production falls off. Young bulls weened are now ready for market. Younger, stronger producers are ready to step up and take their place.

The leather-clad heifers and all the other bovine friends have spent the gray drizzly day in the mud and chill trying to graze in the pasture. All are anxious to get indoors. The unusual sight and sound of a semi truck next to the barn is making them nervous. They stomp and low. They are funneled into a single line that ends in a closed gate blocking the door of the barn.

This is where decisions are made. A push on the lever one way and the gate opens to the dry barn, feed and the relief of the machine. A pull the other way and the gate opens to a path that ends in the trailer. Here the old and useless and the young and useless are separated from the productive and useful. The useless are taken to an auction and sold for unknown purposes. Elsie is calm, she has been through this before. She knows she is special and has purpose. Bess is oblivious, this is her first time.

Elsie pushes and the gate doesn't budge. Instead a key is put in a lock and the chain connecting the two is removed. The bell is then attached to Bess's collar. The gate is opened enough for Bess to squeeze through into the barn, which she happily does not looking back. When Elsie tries she is met with an electric prod on her flank. Her head jerks up in disbelief and fear. She pushes again and this time the prod explodes on her one of her filled udders, an involuntary stream of milk dribbles. She tries again and zap! zap! The other tit and on her ass. She's shocked again and again until she is trembling, broken and moving up the ramp into the trailer with the shit and piss of a thousand doomed cows covering the floor.

All are packed into the trailer. It smells of fear, piss and scat. The drive is cold and whenever the truck hits a puddle or passes an oncoming truck dirty chilled water is sprayed inside. Elsie's udders are full and hurt. There are red marks on them from the prod. For some relief she begins to milk herself. She closes her eyes trying to block out her reality and focus on the warm creamy liquid streaming down her body and the feeling of hands manipulating tits. Always interrupted though by cold water or the jostling of country roads and anxious cows.

More prodding goes on at the feed lot. Otherwise powerless minimum wage employees indiscriminately shock and whip. A pimply 16 year-old, sitting above the pen on a fence, takes aim with a buggy whip and flicks the tip deftly on her clit making a tiny pop. Her vision goes red with pain and then tunnels on the gleeful sadistic baby face. She falls to her knees, tears flow. She whimpers, “Why? What have I done?” She knows there is no answer, it is her fate. this is how discarded, past their prime heifers are treated.

A man on a horse cuts her from the herd when it is her turn in the auction ring. She is blinded by spotlights and stands frozen. Caked in dried mud, her eyes are red and blank. Her udders now empty look like flapjacks stuck on a sunken chest. The auctioneers voice fills the arena, “What we've got here cowboys is a 40 year-old hucow. She's been free-ranged and was, I'm told, once a great producer. Looks like those bags could hold a couple of gallons each. She is also trained in mouth pleasure. This hunk of beef is: 'as is, where is.' Who'll give me 20 dollars?”

The bidding is slow. Each bid of five more dollars is another chip off of whatever is left of her dignity. When a bid of $100 doubles the previous high the room goes quiet and she is sold without ceremony. The man on the horse swats at her with a coil of rope directing her into the sold pen. The winner clips a leash on her collar and she is loaded in a single stall horse carrier and takes off into the darkness for the beginning of another life.

When the truck stops and she is unloaded, to her surprise and glee she is back at her barn. All this a lesson in humility and humiliation. All the cows are in there places, feeding. the machine makes its familiar suck and release sounds. On the milking board, in her place is Bess. Dribbles of milk are being sucked out of her just recently activated udders and there is a cock being shoved down her throat.

She chokes, gags and spits but manages to keep her mouth open and inviting. Her cunt quivers and queefs when cum is injected down her throat.