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Visions of The Crystal Feast. Day 7
🕑 Added 2021-12-20 00:10:55 +0000 UTCThe seventh of our thirteen Thirteens made by the lovely Becsantus: Daisy.
After falling from her Tardis in a post-regeneration haze, this Doctor was severely injured and her transformation perverted. Eventually waking up a dumb, suggestable animal with barely enough intelligence to speak, The Doctor was placed in the care of Yazmin Khan, who did her best not to be tempted by the curvaceous, moronic cow-whore...
-o-o-o-
“You bitch!” Yaz screamed, watching herself get throatfucked underneath the TARDIS console like a living fleshlight, the alternate universe dickgirl Doctor casually toying with the controls as Yaz gurgled on her prick.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish!” The Doctor snapped back, snarling angrily at the girl she’d considered her friend. “I have two thousand years of time and space to pluck my ideas from, so apologise before I make you watch something really crazy!”
“I’m not apologising to you, pervert! It’s your fault we’re stuck here, you should apologise!” Yaz shot back, throwing her jacket at the vision. The brown leather passed neatly through the illusion and smacked the Doctor in the face. “Apologise for imagining me like that!”
The blonde growled wordlessly, grey eyes shining with indignant fury, and tossed the jacket over her shoulder, immediately pressing her fingers to her temples.
“Oh no you don’t!” Yaz hissed, doing the same.
Both women stood with screwed-up faces, blushing red with rage and arousal as they tried to force their embarrassing ideas into reality.
“Grr, you little brat!” The Doctor growled. “Why did I ever take you with me?”
“Shut up you pompous cow, I can’t believe I ever wanted to travel with you!”
‘Intelligence has always been The Doctor’s most important weapon across the universes, used to defeat the most formidable forces ever created. Though there are infinite Doctor’s whose intelligences unlock the secrets of reality itself, there are an infinite number of others whose minds are duller. Whilst some are born, others are made, and the fates of these unfortunate Doctors are rarely dignified…’
“Take that!” Yaz crowed, turning to watch the show.
-o-o-o-
Junior caretaking officer Yasmin Khan’s heels clicked pleasantly as she made her way through the corridors of UNIT’s Alien Accommodation Adjunct. The sterile white walls of the United Intelligence Taskforce’s UK headquarters were very familiar to Yaz by now, so clinical and unfriendly, so she always enjoyed the change in scenery when she stepped out of the business-like halls of the main HQ into her own, more comfortable domain.
The 3A facility was a relatively new addition to UNIT’s mandate. For decades alien and non-human refugees had been coming to earth and been forced to fend for themselves, but with UNIT’s new funding, they’d finally been able to formally help. No more trap street hideaways, no more underground communities, and certainly no more black-market trafficking rings taking advantage of the most vulnerable aliens who came to Earth.
Now almost every nation that supported UNIT’s endeavours had at least one 3A facility, somewhere that refugees could live comfortably and safety, create bonds and connections, adjust to the Earth’s environments, and return to if their attempts to integrate into human society didn’t go well.
It had been almost two years since she’d been transferred out of Hallamshire Police into UNIT. Her brush with extra-terrestrial life had only exacerbated her desire for more challenging work, and her prior experience had put her on UNIT’s map. It wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting, her duties as a caretaking officer were an awful lot like her probation, but she enjoyed making a difference, and getting to see and explore so many different cultures, even if they were occasionally a little… uncomfortable.
She sighed as she tapped her ID card up to suite Delta-1963, smiling brightly as the door swung open and the suite’s resident was revealed.
“Moo.”
The creature in the suite looked at her with big, dumb, docile eyes and smiled placidly. Compared to many in the 3A facility, she looked human, in fact if Yaz had passed her on the street, she probably wouldn’t have known ‘Daisy’ was an alien at all.
Assuming she hadn’t opened her mouth.
Daisy was, appearance wise, an attractive blonde in her mid-thirties, with big, grey eyes and a big, joyful smile and big, pendulous udders. Yaz hated thinking of Daisy’s breasts like that, but there really wasn’t much choice. Daisy’s massive tits were easily larger than her head, soft and fat, with huge dark nipples that almost constantly leaked milk. The weight of them was so much that Daisy preferred to stay on all fours, and even then had been given some special reinforcing surgery to her spine to keep her from hurting herself.
The blonde’s rump was equally humungous, meter-wide hips bearing a truly gargantuan bubble-butt so thick the poor thing couldn’t have even fit through the door to her suite, even if she had ever wanted to leave.
As usual, Daisy was only wearing her ‘special costume,’ the only clothes she ever wore, and the only ones Yaz and the other caretakers had been able to convince her to put on. A pair of sleek, cow-print stockings hugged her shapely legs from her toes to her thick, meaty thighs. A similar pair of gloves covered her finger to armpit, but everywhere in between she was nude. In her golden hair was a hairband with a set of faux cow ears and two small, soft curling horns, and nestled in between her massive asscheeks, a buttplug with a long, prehensile cow tail swished lazily about.
The outfit made Yaz feel awful, like she was degrading and mocking her charge rather than helping her, but Daisy adamantly refused to take any of her costume off, sobbing and whining whenever Yaz had to bathe her, and only ever calming down when they were put back on.
“Good morning Daisy.” Yaz said gently, carefully sealing the door back behind her and pulling her clipboard out from under her arm. “How are you this morning?”
“Feeling goooooood.” Daisy smiled. “Pretty girl always mmmmmake me feel gooooood.”
“I’m glad.” Yaz hummed, “Do you remember my name?”
“Ummmmm.” The blonde creature pouted, sitting upright on its colossal rump and wringing its hands together. “You… not called pretty girl?”
“My name is Yasmin.” Yaz smiled. “Can you say that? Yas-min?”
“Yas… mmmmmmmin.” Daisy repeated, dragging out the M as she always did, as if a lowing moo was trying to force its way out of her mouth.
“Very good.” Yaz said, gently patting Daisy’s shoulder. “And your name? Doc-tor?”
“Uh… mmmmmy name’s… Daisy.” Daisy pouted.
“Of course.” Yaz breathed sadly, looking down at the dossier on her clipboard. She didn’t know what had happened to the person on the UNIT files to turn them into a drooling, stupid cowwoman, all she knew was her attempts to help her get better had all failed miserably. She made a quick inspection of the room, heels crunching on fresh hay as she made sure that everything was as it should be.
“Mmmmmilkies?” Daisy asked, tilting her head slightly. “Mmmmy udders are soooooo full of yummy mmmmmmilk.”
“Alright, come here.”
Yaz set down her clipboard and knelt, making sure her skirt was nice and smooth before pulling two large metal buckets from the corner of the room and setting them in front of her. Daisy shuffled over quickly, immediately overshooting the buckets and shoving her face against Yaz’s in a messy kiss to her cheek.
“Daisy, no.” Yaz growled sternly. “No kisses.”
“But pretty Yasmmmin is so nice to mmmme.” Daisy lowed. “So nice to silly mmmooooooo cow Daisy.”
“It’s… not appropriate.”
“But Daisy loves her pretty Yasmmmmin.”
Yaz paused. That was new. She felt herself flush instinctively and brushed some hair behind her ear. “Don’t be silly Daisy.”
“Not being silly.” Daisy smiled, nuzzling her face close again and rubbing her nose against Yaz’s. “Love pretty Yasmmmin, so pretty, so kind to silly Daisy Cow.”
“You’re very sweet.” Yaz blushed, gently pushing her away. “But it’s not allowed, understand?”
“Not understand.” Daisy whined. “But… Daisy is gooooood. Daisy Cow does what pretty Yassie tells her.”
“Good.” Yaz smiled, relieved, before frowning as Daisy turned around and lay down in her lap.
“Milkies like this?” the cow asked meekly. “No buckets?”
“You’ll make a mess.” Yaz warned her. “I’ll have to give you a bath.”
“Daisy not mmmmind bathtime.” The blonde purred softly. “Not if Yassie takes bath with her.”
“Alright, enough talking you. Maybe you’ll settle down when you’re not so full.” Yaz sighed, rolling her eyes and letting Daisy rest her head against her shoulder.
She reached up and took gentle hold of Daisy’s udders, the flesh was soft and warm under her fingers, heavy as two full sandbags, but supple and smooth. She took hold of one of Daisy’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed.
Instantly a spray of thick, creamy milk poured out, splattering Daisy’s soft stomach and pooling in her bellybutton. Yaz flushed as the blonde let out a blissful moo and spread her thighs, revealing the glistening wet carpet of curls above her womanhood.
Doing her best to ignore her patient’s lustful groans and lows, Yaz began squeezing and pulling on both of Daisy’s nipples, drawing out streams of fragrant milk that poured down Daisy’s body and onto the golden straw below.
It wasn’t as if they needed the milk, Yaz thought to herself, UNIT already had samples, it was just that Daisy got upset and achy when she wasn’t regularly drained of the colossal amounts of cream she produced on a daily basis. Letting it pour down Daisy’s soft, curvy body, tracing the swell of her breasts, the smooth rise of her stomach, dribbling over her full hips and accenting every inch of beautiful pale flesh so soft and so tempting…
Yaz cleared her throat and continued milking, ignoring Daisy’s moos of arousal, and the wandering hands. She pursed her lips as one of Daisy’s gloved hands began toying with her hair, reaching up and around behind her to stroke and caress. She didn’t mind it, but the other hand beginning to lazily masturbate herself was a bit much.
“Daisy.” She said softly. “No touching yourself.”
“But Yassie makes me feel gooooood.”
“I know, but you shouldn’t touch.” Yaz sighed. “Why don’t you bring your hands up here, and try milking yourself?”
“Not feel as nice as when Yassie does it.” Daisy smiled mischievously. “Daisy likes Yassie’s hands, and her smell, and her little booooooobies.”
“Daisy stop flirting or I’ll have to leave.”
Daisy took the threat seriously, falling into an obedient silence as Yaz mutely extracted shot after shot of milk from her udders. After about half an hour of quiet squirming and moaning, and about four gallons of milk spilled, the steady flow of cream from Daisy’s nipples slowed and Yaz let out a tired sigh of relief.
“There we go… all done.” She breathed. “Better?”
“Feel all light and bouncy.” Daisy nodded, “Thank yoooooou pretty Yassie”
“You’re… oof… welcome.” Yaz grunted as Daisy hoisted herself up and sat on her. “Owh… Daisy… off!” she croaked, being gifted by the ability to breathe again as Daisy obeyed and crawled away, wiggling her hips coquettishly.
Yaz flushed as Daisy’s tail coiled invitingly, the blonde’s thighs spread wide to show off her sopping hole. It wasn’t as if Yaz wasn’t tempted, she’d always had a fetish for well-endowed women, but Daisy was so simple and so innocent, wouldn’t it feel like taking advantage of her?
She swallowed and turned away from Daisy, marching across the room to run a bath. She was testing the warmth of the water with a hand, and contemplating how to get Daisy out of her outfit, when she found herself face-first in the tub.
Spluttering and soaking wet as she surfaced, Yaz was pinned to the bottom in an instant with Daisy’s colossal body squishing down on top of her, tongue slobbering over her face. Yaz’s gasp of shock gave Daisy access to her mouth, and before she knew what was happening, the cow’s tongue was wrestling with her own.
As her hands sank into the slippery, pillowy flesh of Daisy’s udders and her thighs were spread wide by the cow’s squishy bulk, Yaz groaned and kissed Daisy back.
She was already soaking wet and Daisy tasted so good.
What was the harm in giving in?
