Chapter 1: The Professor's Introduction
Chapter Text
The professor and her assistant got off the ferry and stepped into the hot sun and various smells of the small island's port facility. Well, it was a small island compared to the Japanese mainland islands, but it was still big enough to support it's own high school, so it wasn't as small as many of its neighbors. And yet, it had no active airport, and the only ferry service was primarily for freight traffic. It was as if someone was deliberately trying to discourage occasional travelers from visiting the islands. The professor wondered about that when one of her colleagues suggested that she might find what she was looking for here.
What she was looking for... She knew it would be tricky to find what she really needed... anywhere. But the colleague had come from this small group of isolated islands and seemed fairly certain that she would be able to continue her research here. He had even gone so far as to arrange a meeting with the mayor of the small group of remote islands. She had been shocked when he told her what he had set up for her, but he assured her that the mayor could be trusted. That was hard to believe, since the nature of her research was considered to be... intensely disturbing, to say the least.
But there he was now. A portly older man was waiting for the professor and her assistant at the end of the pier. Strangely, there was also a similarly older but somewhat taller man who seemed to be dressed as some kind of priest there as well. No matter, she was convinced that this sunny, idyllic little island wouldn't be able to provide her the kind of dark services that she would need to be able to carry on her research. It was a pity too, she was certain that the parasites she had been cultivating would thrive in this kind of environment.
"Welcome, Professor!" the Mayor bowed in happy greeting.
"I hope your trip here was not too uncomfortable." the priest offered.
"Not really, but it was awfully long. I didn't realize these islands were so far from the mainland." the professor replied.
"We are really not as far away as it seems, but the freight ferry boats run a lot more leisurely than their passenger cousins." the priest said.
"Oh, are there any passenger ferries that come to this port? I couldn't find any when I searched for travel options to come here." the professor asked.
"There wasn't any air service either." the professor's assistant added.
"We have some smaller ferries that travel between our little islands, but no... there is no regular passenger service to the mainland." the mayor admitted while gesturing for them to follow him to a small van that he had brought along.
"That seems... inconvenient." the professor said.
"Call it... privacy. We have no interest in encouraging tourism, so it really isn't an inconvenience for us at all." the priest said.
"Hmmm. You have a point." the professor admitted. She glanced at her assistant and could tell from the younger woman's expression that she was thinking the same thing. A local population that prized privacy would be perfect for their research project.
"So, are you here to find some... volunteers for your science experiment, or are you looking to set up shop here?" the mayor asked. He was still wearing his political smile, so it wasn't easy to tell what his intent was. However, the priest had no negative reaction to the question.
"I was only intending to see if the area could really support our need for the... volunteers that my research requires." the professor realized from the mayor's question that her colleague must have told him some of the more... sensitive details of the project. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, we may not encourage tourism, but working with someone who's view toward privacy is similar to ours, would not be a problem." the mayor told the two ladies as they all climbed into the van.
"And I'm sure you will find all the... resources you require here." the priest said with certainty.
"Indeed!" the mayor added for emphasis as he urged the van to pull away from the curb and head for the edge of the small port city.
"If we did open a research branch here, how quickly could your local industry create a facility for us?" the professor asked. She was liking what she was hearing from these two and was starting to like the idea.
"We won't need to create anything from scratch. There are several abandoned facilities you should have a look at, while you're here. They could be refurbished fairly quickly." the mayor suggested.
"Abandoned?" the assistant asked skeptically.
"Some haven't been used since the old Soviet Union fell apart. The others were shut down a few decades before that." the priest said.
"Are these structures safe?" the professor asked doubtfully.
"Are they even still standing?" her assistant added.
"Oh my yes," the mayor laughed, "In this tropical environment, they will surely be infested with all manner of insect and plant growth. But, they were made to withstand bombs and bullets. Being unused for so long, they will need some maintenance and updates to be sure. But the overall construction should still be sound."
"And, renovating an old building doesn't cause as much notice or curiosity as unexpected new construction." the priest pointed out.
"Who..." the assistant was about to ask who would be around to get curious if they didn't have tourists, but she saw him pointing up to the sky. Of course: mapping satellites. Every square meter of the globe was being mapped and remapped these days and there were even television programs that looked into unexplained things as a form of entertainment.
"So, where are we going now?" the professor asked as the van seemed to be heading toward a sprawling three story building that looked like an old high school.
"I think we've answered the question of 'where' for you. Now I want to address the 'how' of it. After this stop, you will understand why I believe we will be able to meet whatever resource needs you may have." the mayor said with confidence.
"You're saying these answers will be at this high school?" the professor anticipated.
"This isn't a high school." the mayor smiled broadly.
"This is an elementary school." the priest finished the answer.
After walking past several full classrooms, the professor and her assistant were puzzled about something. Typically, for a population set that included all the islands in this chain combined, they should only be able to field two or three standard Kindergarten through sixth grade classrooms - and with a standard ratio of 1.2 girls to every boy. However, what they were seeing here was staggeringly different. There were no less than six Kindergarten classrooms with as many as twenty kids in each one and the ratio was absurd. There were about nine girls for every boy in those rooms. The number of students and the ratio stayed the same in the first an second year classrooms, but it began to change with the third years with fewer girls in each room. The number of girls in each grade continued to decrease as they made their way to the sixth years where the ratio was a mere five to one. Doing the math in her head, the professor realized that this school was losing over a dozen girls a year between third and sixth grades, and still had an inexplicably high ratio of girls to boys. However, the number of boys in each grade level seemed to remain fairly constant.
"Is elementary education optional for the boys on this island?" the professor asked.
"It's interesting that you should ask that question." the mayor chuckled, "I was certain you would ask why there were so many girls."
"That is another question I have, but I can see all these girls so their existence cannot be denied even if it is highly unusual." the professor said.
"Ah, very logical. It is to be expected from someone so intellectual." the mayor praised his guest, then answered her question, "Education is compulsory for everyone until they finish elementary school or reach the age of thirteen."
"Fifteen." the priest reminded him.
"Ah yes, we have recently changed the laws to make middle school compulsory as well. Only high school is an option now. However, we have a very low percentage of the population that turns it down!" the mayor boasted.
The professor and her assistant looked at each other with the same expression and the same questions on their minds. If education is compulsory through age fifteen, what was happening to all the girls? And, why are there so many of them in the first place?
"I'm sorry for making everything so mysterious, but I believe all of your questions will be answered at our next stop." the mayor promised.
The van stopped at a rural house not too far from the edge of town. The rolling hills of the island's interior were close at hand and several modern barn style buildings could be seen on the gentle slopes of the nearest hill behind the old Heian style house.
"Good morning!" They were welcomed inside by a very pregnant looking woman.
"It's good to see you again, Ouwe-san! How far along are you now?" the priest asked as he seemed to brazenly reach up underneath her dress to feel her naked and swollen belly. The professor and her assistant were surprised by his action, but no-one else seemed to react.
"Oh, just a few more weeks for this one." the woman said with a mixture of pride and sadness.
"Your first was a boy. Since then you've had, what... nine girls?" the priest asked the smiling woman. Her look of pride and sadness was changing to one of pleasure as the priest changed the way he was manipulating her with his hand under her skirt.
"Ten... ten girls. Well, eleven... counting this one." she panted.
"That's wonderful, Ouwe-san! And, how many do you have now?" the mayor asked.
"Just four. Three went off... to the priesthood. And three are... out back."
"You are a splendid wife and your contributions to the community are inspirational." the mayor told the now gasping woman.
The professor wondered what the mother had meant by to the priesthood and her reference to others being out back. Had some of her daughters become shrine maidens? But then, what did out back mean? However, instead of asking any more questions, she watched with her assistant as the priest brought the pregnant woman to a shattering orgasm. Just what kind of priest are you?
"If you don't mind, we would like to give our guests a tour of your livestock barns." the mayor asked as he helped the still moaning and panting woman down to a low couch where she could rest.
"Please... be my guest." she panted and then bowed in thanks to the priest.
Touring a livestock barn had not been something either the professor or her assistant had planned on doing. Nor were agriculture or animal husbandry subjects they were even remotely interested in. But their hosts had been gracious and certainly more helpful than either of them had hoped for, so they politely followed the two men into the unusual barn.
It was unusually clean.
It was unusually well appointed... for a barn.
And it had the most unusual livestock. There were over a dozen nude, and well endowed girls that all seemed to be in their teens. The smallest breasts that the stunned visitors saw were only a little smaller than a basketball while the largest could rival a beach ball. The girls in the room weren't harshly restrained and were even gaily chatting with each other while they lounged on a multitude of brilliantly colored and overstuffed cushions. Aside from their nudity and amazingly large breasts, the girls were adorned with a few oddities that the guests quickly noticed. Each girl had a leather collar with a golden cowbell on it. They also wore an old fashioned livestock tracking tag in their left ears. And, even more strangely, all of them bore a complex looking brand on both their bellies and on the small of their backs.
"Hey girls," the priest called out to the room, "I was hoping to show our guests a milking session today."
"I think Barn Three will be starting their feeding and milking session soon." one of the girls replied.
"But you might want to go to Barn Six first!" another girl chirped.
"Why is that?" the mayor asked.
"Two new girls are getting branded. You don't want to miss that show!" the excited girl replied.
"Good idea! Would you like to come along with us?" the priest asked the the wide-eyed girl.
"Yes! I'll just grab a smock and I'll be right back! Promise not to go without me." she demanded of the priest.
"I promise, but do hurry, I don't want our guests to miss this." he replied with a chuckle at the girl's enthusiasm.
They got to the barn in plenty of time after all. The workers were just strapping the first girl into the restraint frame when the party of onlookers arrived. She looked young except for her overly large breasts. The guests wondered if the bound girl might have recently been attending the school they had just come from. Her breasts were larger than softballs and they had seen many girls at the school with breasts that large.
The professor watched intently as the girl's wrists were bound to a bar above her head and her ankles were bound to another bar down by her feet. Unlike the cheerful girls they had encountered in the first barn, both of these new girls seemed nervous and scared. When the workers pulled the glowing hot irons out of the fiery coals, the bound girl started sobbing and begging them not to brand her.
"She knows they won't stop." the priest said with certainty as he pulled his cock out from the folds of his robe for the enthusiastic girl that had accompanied them.
"Why is that?" the assistant asked. She didn't know where to watch. A frightened young girl was about to get branded right in front of her and a delighted young girl was going to be fucked by a priest right beside her.
"The girl's parents will have already filled out the forms to have her converted to livestock by the time she gets here." the mayor explained.
"What? Do you mean that these girl's have no more rights than cattle?" the professor asked.
"That's right," the priest said as his cock slid deep into the bent over girl in front of him, "just like cattle, they can be milked, bred, and even slaughtered."
"Actually, you might say that they have even fewer rights than cattle." the mayor pointed out, "You can perform experiments on them and there won't be any animal rights activists complaining about it."
"Really..." the professor said thoughtfully. She and her assistant looked at each other and were again thinking the same thing. Perhaps this place really could satisfy our needs.
They were jerked out of their thoughts a moment later by the blood curdling scream from the new Human Cow as she felt the searing heat of the hot brands burning into the flesh of her belly and lower back. The little group of observers watched as the young girl struggled uselessly in her bonds to escape the pain.
"I guess with boobs that big, it is inevitable that she would get selected to be a cow." the assistant tried not to sound jealous, but her own breasts were only a little larger than golf balls. She had never been so conscious of their small size before she visited the elementary school where even the Kindergarten girls all had breasts larger than hers. And now, to see all these huge udders on the girls at these barns was giving her a feeling of defeat.
"Actually, every girl on these islands will have breasts that big by the time they finish high school." The mayor replied.
"So, let me get this straight," the professor interjected before anyone could notice how much her assistant's ego had just been hurt, "you have a greatly elevated birth rate, a childbirth ratio that is skewed nine to one towards females, early physical maturation, and universally full primary and secondary sexual characteristics development?"
"There's more." the mayor smiled as they entered barn three, where the girls were getting ready to be fed and milked.
Unlike the girls that had been branded outside, these girls were only strapped into position with pressure cuffs that comfortably held their arms in place above their heads. Workers guided food probes into their mouths and opened the valves up to allow vats of nutrient to drain into the waiting girl's throats until their bellies were visibly full. While the girls struggled to swallow their allotted nutrient, the workers swabbed their exposed breasts with a mild disinfectant to ready them for the milking machines.
"Why are they being restrained?" the assistant wondered since it didn't look like anything too distressing was happening to them. At least, not compared to the branding she had just witnessed.
"The feeding process can sometimes cause lightheadedness." the mayor explained, "The restraints insure that the HuCow gets all her nutrient... even if she passes out."
"So, her health is more important than her comfort?" the professor asked.
"Health is the second priority really. You're about to see what is of principal importance. But yes, comfort has never been a critical concern for livestock, has it?"
Neither the professor nor her assistant could argue that point. The fields of agriculture or carniculture had never been their forte, so they only knew what was common knowledge about the care and treatment of livestock. But even that small amount was enough to know that whether it was dairy cows, beef cows, pigs, or even chickens… there were many people out there that firmly believed that the treatment of these food animals was cruel and in need of change.
Still, it seemed overly harsh to dehumanize these girls to the point that they had to be restrained and force-fed. They were thinking about the inhumane treatment of these girls when the feeding tubes retracted and the arm restraints rotated down until all the girls were in a bent over position with their large pendulous breasts hanging from their chests. Some of them looked a bit uncomfortable but the observers couldn't tell whether it was because of how full their bellies were from the force-feeding, or if it was from the position they were forced into. As they watched, large tube shaped devices rose up to the dangling breasts of the human Cows until their full titties were encased all the way to their chests. At the base of the tubes their nipples were in position for smaller suction devices that focused on drawing off the accumulated milk that the girl's had been producing.
"Oh... oh my!" the assistant covered her own chest with nervous hands as she watched the various machines come to life on the dangling breasts of the dairy girls. The larger tube squeezed the cow's breasts from the base down to the nipples while the smaller sucker filled with milk and sucked it away into the quickly filling collection tanks.
"That's... a lot of milk." the professor observed as she watched the twenty liter tank begin to fill with collected milk. There were only sixteen girls connected to these machines so that would mean that, on average, each girl would be producing over a liter of milk… if they filled the tank. That kind of production wasn't breaking any lactation records, but it was certainly beyond the range of human norms.
"These girls are still in training." the priest told her, "Their goal is to produce three liters of milk at each milking session." the priest told them.
"Three!" the assistant gasped. She couldn't even imagine holding that much fluid in her small breasts.
"Three liters per session..." the professor thought about what the man had said for a minute before asking, "How many sessions... or, how many times a day are they milked?"
"The goal is to get to six times a day." the priest replied.
"Good heavens! That's eighteen liters of milk a day… every day?" the assistant was stunned that they would expect humans to be able to perform at that level.
"If you push them so hard like that, they wont last very long." the professor said. She may not be an expert in farm animals but she was a bit more knowledgeable about the abilities of the human body, and what kinds of stresses it could endure. She asked her hosts, "What do you do with these girls when you have exhausted their breasts' ability to keep up with such demanding requirements?"
The two men looked at each other with similar expressions of guilt and concern. It was clear that they were uncomfortable talking about this, but it looked like they both decided that the professor and her assistant could be trusted.
"It is true what you say. Some of the luckier girls last as much as six years but most will only make it to tree years before they are retired as dairy cows." the mayor admitted.
"Then, what happens to them?" the assistant re-asked the unanswered question.
"They are sent to the priesthood." the mayor said, and then looked away. It was clear that he would not willingly say any more on this.
Both women turned to the priest to hear him answer the question they both had asked, but he only smiled back at them.
"Ladies, our next stop is to one of the shrines where young priests are trained to perform their important rituals. I believe your questions will be answered in full when we get there." the priest offered as he motioned for them to move toward the barn's exit.
"First of all, I should explain a little bit about local terminology." the priest told the women as they walked up to the entrance of a truly grand shrine entrance. "When girls are at one of the farms to produce milk, they are called cows, dairy cows, human dairy cows, or HuCows for short. Although, that phrase is falling out of use these days."
"Why is that?" the professor asked.
"These islands haven't had any bovine cows for several decades now. We have two generations whose only experience with milk producing farm animals is HuCows. So, they refer to them simply as 'cows', since there is no need to distinguish them from bovine cows. However, that is only what they are called at the farms. When a girl comes to the priesthood, there are only a few things they are called. They could be here as guests or parishioners… in which case they will only be on the grounds for a few hours before they leave. Then there are the shrine maidens – and there are quite a few here. Our shrine maidens do quite a bit more than sell fortunes during festivals. They are well trained and are an important part of our many ceremonies. And finally, there are the sacrifices." the priest said.
"Sacrifices?" the assistant reacted to the word with alarm.
"Yes, these islands have a few customs that vary somewhat from those of the mainland. Our distant past was filled with great storms and invasions that devastated the people of the island. They turned to the gods to protect them and offered up human sacrifices as testament to their sincerity. Those practices were abandoned a long time ago, but all the inhabitants tell and retell the stories of the… good old days." the mayor said.
"Good old days?" the assistant gaped. To her they sounded barbaric and horrific.
"But if you abandoned the practices long ago…" the professor asked.
"Three decades ago, when the mainland was going through its worst issues with the falling population level, our islands suddenly and inexplicably had a baby boom. It was, as you have pointed out, quite odd. The early maturation and high proportion of female births were only a few of our concerns. We have always had a rich culture, but we have never been materially rich out here. So, when we turned to the government for assistance and were ignored…" the mayor seemed hesitant to continue and turned to the priest.
"We took it as an omen… or at least an opportunity to bring back the old religion." the priest said.
"Human sacrifices." the assistant said in a voice barely above a whisper. A shiver had run through her body when she had come to that conclusion.
"Allow me to mention that there are several ways that the sacrifices come to us. But, since you have already seen an operational human dairy farm, we will continue with that example." the priest said as he escorted his guests into one of the many sacrifice preparation rooms.
"After a spent dairy cow comes to us, her days of being force fed and milked are over." he and his guests were in a large room where a dozen girls lounged about in uninterrupted relaxation. Some were playing games in pairs or small groups. Other's read books or brushed each other's hair. And, at the end of the room was a buffet table with food and drink for them to snack or sup at any time.
"So, their breasts are allowed to dry up completely?" the assistant asked.
"Oh no. But they are allowed to renew their bodies naturally. Indeed, many of them will bounce back and be producing levels of milk that they had been able to reach when they were HuCows." the priest said with a smile.
"Are they then returned to the farms?" the professor asked.
"I'm afraid not." the priest said with a little sadness, but without any regret or remorse. "Once a girl comes here as a sacrifice, she will never leave the priesthood."
The professor and her assistant were still mulling over those words when a side door opened and two shrine maidens came into the room of nude girls. The onlookers watched as the shrine maidens went directly to a girl who had been sitting peacefully while another cow had been brushing her hair. They said nothing but laid their hands gently on the girl's shoulders as a sign that she had been selected. The other cows in the room came over to her to say their farewells. There were some hugs and many tears while the shrine maidens patiently waited. But the girl was eventually led away and the room went back to its' previous restful state, if a little more somber now.
The guests were about to ask what was to be done with the selected girl but their hosts beckoned them to follow through another door where they could continue to observe the process. They ended up in a room where the selected girl was led by the shrine maidens to kneel on a padded surface. They had the sacrifice girl place her neck and wrists through a sturdy pillory, and closed the heavy beam to lock her in place. Although the pillory was quite solidly made, it did have pads to protect her body from injury or even chafing.
"If you will recall the buffet table in the other room? All of the food and drink there is spiked with things that promote ovulation. This girl was selected because she is entering her fertile cycle. Over the next several days, her ovaries will release four to eight eggs. The ceremony that she is being prepared for requires a sacrifice that is pregnant with six viable feti." the priest informed them as they watched another two girls get locked into the same vulnerable position as the first.
"What happens if they have more or fewer than six?" the professor asked.
"In the old days, they didn't know until the actual ceremony and it was considered an ill omen if the number was wrong. But with today's science, we know in advance how many feti a sacrifice is carrying. So we impregnate three times the number of sacrifices that we will need with the hopes that one of them will carry six or more. The priesthood doesn't eschew modern science and accepts selective reduction as an effective means to achieve our goals." the priest told them while a group of men were escorted into the room by another set of shrine maidens. These men were wearing colorful robes and seemed quite happy and eager to be here.
"Selective reduction?" the assistant asked.
"It is a process of aborting one or more fetuses in a multiple pregnancy, although it is usually only allowed or performed when the mother's life is at risk." the professor explained to her assistant, but was looking at the mayor for an explanation.
"It is true that there are many restrictions to selective reduction when it is performed on humans." the mayor responded a little stiffly, "But, as we have stated before, these sacrifices are no longer human. Their status was legally changed to livestock before they became either a cow or a sacrifice."
"I see." the professor said thoughtfully. She wasn't condemning the man or the culture on the island though. She had been inclined to at first, but she could quickly see how this could benefit her project. After giving it some thought, she even complemented their deception… or rather – legal maneuver, "Well done. Well done, indeed."
"Professor?" the assistant was still galled at what was being done here and didn't understand what her senior could find admirable.
"By declaring them to be livestock, they are free to use the girls in any number of ways and with little or no possibility of repercussion." the professor said without looking at her junior. Here eyes were glued to the breeding now taking place right in front of her.
"Yes, but..." the assistant started to rebut her boss about the numerous ethical issues, but was cut off.
"Think of what this could mean for our project." the professor said crisply.
"Oh!" the assistant was suddenly reminded why they were here and… that their own work had it's share of ethical issues.
The two men watched their guests reactions and knew that the women had both accepted what they were seeing and hearing. All four of them stood quietly for a while and watched the breeding of the sacrifices. The girls, each in their own pillory, were fucked by several men until their pussies were frothing with churned up cum. The men were thanked for their service... by the shrine maidens. After they were escorted out of the room, the three girls were freed from the pillories, but were then hung by their ankles. The lights in the room were dimmed as the shrine maidens left the room with the sacrifice girls still hanging upside down. However, the show wasn't over yet. The mayor nodded to the priest to continue to the next reveal.
"They will be bred several times a day, every day of their fertile cycle. We want to make sure that every egg that their hard working ovaries produce is properly fertilized." the priest continued his spiel while they walked down an open sidewalk toward another set of buildings, "After the girls are successfully impregnated, they are moved to these facilities."
"Why were they left hanging upside down like that?" the assistant asked.
"They do that to insure that all the cum runs down through the cervix and into the uterus to find the waiting eggs." the mayor answered.
"There is no basis for it, but many people still believe that old wives tale actually works." the professor told her younger colleague.
"I'll admit that it probably does nothing for the fertilization process." the priest did not sound offended that the professor had handily dismissed one of their practices, "But the psychological impact has its own value."
"Huh?" the assistant asked as they walked into the next room and saw yet another amazing and erotic sight. Hanging from the rafters in a tidy row, were six girls in full body suspension. Their arms were bound tightly behind their backs and their legs were spread wide. Chains from the ceiling connected to thick metal rings at the ankles, thighs, hips, waist, and a big ring in the center of the upper back. Each of them had a feeding tube strapped to their face and a huge pregnant belly that was supported with a mesh of crisscrossing leather straps. But there was no support for the huge titties that hung pendulously from their suspended bodies. In fact, something looked different about them. It was as if those huge mammaries had a sheen or a glaze on them.
"Just as these girls know that their fate is sealed and that they have no choice but to do what is expected of them, they were in the same position seven months ago when they were hung upside down after their breeding sessions. Hanging there for even a minute and knowing that there was nothing they could do to stop the fertile sperm from invading their wombs and impregnating them, well… it does a lot toward helping them to come to terms with the little time they have left." the priest said softly.
"Wait… seven months?" the assistant looked at the huge pregnant bellies of the girls with disbelief, "Surely they must be farther along than seven months?"
"Remember that they are each carrying six feti." the said.
"Oh yeah." she wondered how much bigger these girls would get when they heard some doors open and saw several of the shrine maidens come into the room with various equipment.
As the onlookers watched the red and white clad girls go about their business, they couldn't help but notice that the shrine maidens did their chores with the kind of accomplished skill that came from a lot of practice. Some of the maidens went about washing the dangling breasts of the first two sacrifice girls while the others started hooking up an industrial milking machine to a collection tank and arranging the collection hoses. As soon as the first two girls were finished being washed, the collectors were lifted up to the dangling tits to relieve them of their load. Once again, the large bell shaped tube would encompass the entire breast while the nipple was guided into a smaller bulb. No straps were necessary to keep them in place on the girl's chests; the suction from the collection machine alone kept the bells glued to the huge tits. The process was repeated for the second set of girls, and then again for the last two. By the time the last set was having their milk drawn off, the first set was finishing up. Glancing down at the collection can, the professor noticed that the twenty liter can was a little more than half full.
"Five liters?" the professor was amazed.
"Excuse me?" the priest looked at her questioningly.
"I just noticed that the two of them more than half filled a twenty liter can. That is remarkable!" she replied.
"They are only being milked twice a day at this point." the priest pointed at the latest activity of the shrine maidens.
On the titties of the two sacrifice girls that had just been drained, the shrine maidens painted a thick liquid onto the dangling and exposed breasts until they were completely covered in the slightly opaque substance. Whatever it was, it dried quickly and became translucent before the shrine maidens had finished painting the dangling boobs of the next set of girls.
"It is a compound that seals the breasts so that they cannot leak out their milk." the priest explained.
"That sounds like it would be painful." the professor said.
"It isn't at first, but it can be quite excruciating when the breasts are already full and the milk producing glands are still making more." the priest told her.
"Then, why do they do it?" the assistant asked.
"It is done to expand their ability to store more milk in their breasts. You see… on the day of the ceremony, they will need to be as full as possible." the priest said.
"Why…" the professor was about to ask why full titties were so important when she noticed something odd. All of the milking machines had been hauled away with the collection cans and most of the shrine maidens had left the room when she saw one of them circle back and start quietly talking to the third sacrifice girl. Whatever was being said was quiet enough that she couldn't hear it, but from the girl's poise and the way she touched her forehead to the suspended girl's forehead – she could tell that those two girls had a special closeness between them.
"The sacrifice is the shrine maiden's older sister." the mayor said sympathetically.
"Oh, how awful!" the assistant said with her hands over her mouth.
"Not at all. She is proud of her older sister. In our community, it is firmly believed that a girl that makes it to be a ceremonial sacrifice will bring good luck and good fortune to her family." the priest assured the skeptical woman.
"What happens to the girls that don't become a ceremonial sacrifice?" the professor asked.
"They are still believed to bring some luck to their families, but I suppose your question is really asking what becomes of them? Well…" the priest gestured for them to leave the room and walk a short distance to another building.
In this new building, they found only one of the sacrifice girls but several priests and also a few of the shrine maidens. The sacrifice girl was already strapped into one of the things that looked like the milking and feeding device they saw back at the farm. Her arms were firmly caught in compression pads and the long arching tracks the clamps were affixed to meant that the device was meant to make her bend over as if for another milking. However, there was more to this setup than that. Her legs were splayed wide and strapped firmly into position, and her head was pulled back by the hair so that it couldn't flop forward. Her enormous breasts and large pregnant belly were free to dangle beneath the rest of her bound body. After the guests arrived and took their seats, the priests and shrine maidens got to work.
"Were they waiting for us to arrive?" the professor asked.
"Yes, they only have one of these training sessions every few days and we thought it would be important for you to see it." the mayor told her.
They all watched silently as the girl was bent over so that her huge breasts hung from her bound torso. The device that they used to pull back her hair, was cranked back so that the girl was looking out at the small audience now. Everyone would be able to watch every expression that her face made, as her body went through the torment of the sacrifice process. Even now, they could see the scared look in her eyes and the quivering of her jaw as she was helpless to stop the things that were being done to her body. The shrine maidens pulled her glazed titties through two holes of a strange looking bib that went all the way up and covered the girl's neck, shoulders, and abdomen. The professor recognized the material that the bib was made of and realized that it was a heat shield. She couldn't figure out why a heat shield would be necessary until she saw the what was being moved into place below the bound girl.
A large cast-iron kettle was moved into place under the girl's spread legs. From the waves of heat coming off the thing, it was obviously filled with cooking oil that was just under it's boiling point. Then an interesting piece of transparent cookware came into view. From its shape and size, it could only be used to prepare one kind of dish. It was obviously a tit cooker. It's large bell shape would accommodate the sacrifice's huge boobs and at the bottom, instead of a bulb to suckle out the stored milk in those huge udders, there was a hole where each nipple would end up. But the holes weren't there to provide an escape for the nipple, on the other side of each hole was a heated iron rod with a compressed spring under it, and a sharp point at the top. The metal rods were already glowing a dull red color, and that glow was getting a little brighter with each passing minute. It didn't take much understanding of mechanics to know that, when the springs were released, the hot metal rods would be fired up into the defenseless breasts… right through the nipples.
The heated bells were quickly raised and the scalding heat immediately began to cook the tender flesh of the hanging breasts. The girl screamed from the agony of having her titties cooked while still attached to her body. She struggled fiercely to get away from the incredible pain, but it was no use. No matter how hard she tried, she was no match for the metal bars and leather straps that held her in place. Her body convulsed in the waves of intense pain that emanated from her cooking titties and that resulted in another element of the sacrifice.
Her womb and vagina contracted and one of the five fetuses that had been slowly growing within her, was suddenly ejected from the womb. There was no cry from the child though… there was no time. For, immediately below the convulsing pussy was the kettle full of hot cooking oil. The infant didn't last long in the hot cooking oil, and the still connected umbilical cord closest to the infant's belly began to cook as well.
The assistant put her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming along with the sacrifice as she watched the horrific scene. She couldn't turn away though, and reluctantly watched as a second, a third, and then a fourth infant dropped into the waiting oil as the tortured mother screamed and convulsed in her agony. The sacrifice's breasts were a light brown now and, by the way her thrashing and screaming was diminishing, it was evident that most of the nerve endings around the cooked flesh had been destroyed. That was when they fired the glowing hot metal rods.
The sacrifice's face twisted in pure agony for a full second before the scream came, and the last of her infants dropped into the kettle of death that awaited them. The rods had penetrated her nipples, pushed through the network of lobes and ducts, pierced the core of the fatty tissue, and finally come to rest just centimeters from the ribs of the chest wall itself. The heat from the hot iron rod caused the accumulated milk to boil, which cooked the rest of her titties from the inside. The professor and assistant were both amazed that the poor girl hadn't passed out from so much shock and pain delivered to her vulnerable body. But the girl's ordeal wasn't yet over.
One priest, on each side of the tit cooker, used ceremonial knives that were sharp on the inside of the curve, to cut the now cooked breasts off the bound girl. Weaker screams echoed from the walls of the room again as the sharp knives cut through the tender flesh of her breasts.
"Why didn't they cut them off first, and then cook them?" the professor asked.
"You are thinking that it would have spared the sacrifice the pain of the cooking process, right?" the priest asked – then answered her, "Remember that this is all about a religious ceremony. The goal is not to limit the pain for the sacrifice, but to make sure that she endures much, as a testimony to the gods."
"Oh yes… of course." the professor agreed politically, but knew the answer was utter nonsense.
"According to the cooks, it also makes the meat taste better when the sacrifice is alive like that. Something to do with chemicals released by the body." the mayor added when he saw that the professor wasn't buying the religion aspect of the priest's explanation. Then he added, "And… it makes for a better show."
The Priest gave the Mayor a disapproving glare, but the Professor was already nodding her head in agreement.
"That, I can believe." the professor said as she got ready to get up from her seat. But a hand on her shoulder from the priest stopped her.
"It's not over yet." the priest told her.
"It's not?" the assistant asked with wide open eyes.
"Oh no… it's only just started." the priest told her with a smile.
The assistant looked up at the poor girl still in her bound position. Two of the shrine maidens were carting away the vat of oil and cooking infants. Another two were rolling away the platform with the tit cooker and the recently severed titties. The girl was sobbing and gasping for air while everything was going on around her, and the two guests wondered just how much more she would be able to take.
It didn't take long to find out. The two priests who had cut off her dangling and cooked breasts, proceeded to press some heated iron plates against the open wounds to cauterize the bleeding. In some ways, it was similar to when the guests had watched the branding session. The girl screamed and writhed in her pain yet again, but it was impossible to escape it. Shrine maidens removed the heat shield garment and covered the scarred and burned chest with a band of stretchy red cloth.
"I know it stretches like rubber, but that wrap is made of a vegetable process and is even edible. It is, by the way, a product of our islands." the mayor proudly told his two guests as the sacrifice was ratcheted back up to more of a standing position.
More… but not entirely. She was now leaning over a large collection tub and her hair was adjusted once again so that she could look out at the audience but not down at what was about to happen to her. A small table was brought in with a single platter that looked like it was made of the finest porcelain and on it sat another ceremonial knife with a short curved blade. The sacrifice was struggling in her bonds now, but not as if she were trying to escape. It looked more like she was trying to find a comfortable position. But finding comfort with all the pain that must be emanating from her chest would seem impossible.
"This next part is specifically for the fertility sacrifice." the priest said quietly as one of the younger priests picked up the ornate knife from the porcelain tray and moved to place the blade against the defenseless flesh of her belly and just above the girl's pubic bone. With a quick jab the blade went in and the sacrifice girl's eyes opened wide at the shock of the new pain. Her mild shock didn't last long and she screamed again as the priest used the sharp blade to cut through her abdomen from the pubic bone all the way up to the sternum.
"They have to do these next steps very quickly or she will be dead before she starts cooking." the priest told his guests.
"Cooking…" the attendant repeated the word with mixed horror and fascination. Both she and the professor were amazed that the sacrifice girl wasn't dead already.
"Is that a bad thing… that she might be dead before she starts cooking?" the professor asked.
"It is. The goal is for the sacrifice to be alive as long as possible during the ceremony. Preferably until her heart is crushed." the Priest told them.
...until her heart is crushed? Both the professor and her assistant wondered how they would do that.
After the intestines fell through the long vertical cut and into the waiting bucket, the priest with the ornate knife reached into the bloody cavity and pulled out the uterus and ovaries. The recently vacated womb was quite large from having just carried five feti to the eighth month of their development. He placed the extracted organ on the porcelain platter and proudly displayed it to the audience. He had successfully cut through the walls of the vagina without damaging the five umbilical cords that still trailed out of her previously occupied womb. The guests could see the healthy pink color of the internal organs, all the way to the twisted umbilical cords that dangled to their oil fried ends. But nothing stopped while the fertility sacrifice was being displayed. Shrine maidens worked to carry away the tub of intestines and other discarded internal organs that the priests had cleaned out of the sacrifices open belly. Her stomach was also removed and a thick rod was inserted up through her anus until it reached the diaphragm. Normally, having a rod the width of ones forearm shoved up through her anus would have caused extreme pain and agony, but after having her tits cooked and being disemboweled, it didn't evoke nearly as much screaming as the guests had anticipated.
The shrine maidens returned with a large tub full of uncooked rice and chopped vegetable mix. The priests now rotated the frame that the sacrifice was bound to, so that she was inclined on her back. Priests and shrine maidens worked quickly together to pack the rice and vegetable mix into the void where the internal organs used to be. As they packed it down and worked their way up, one of the priests was sewing the girl's belly back up with strong poultry twine. Soon, she looked pregnant again, but with a nasty scar running up through her belly to her ribs. Her whole body was then moved to a box broiler that was designed so that her head stuck out of the top while the rest of her body cooked. All of the leather bindings were removed and she was secured to the broiling rack that held her arms and legs in place using cooking wire. Finally, plumbing was connected to the pipe that ran up through her ass and into the the abdominal cavity that was now packed full of the rice mix. Unbelievably, the girl was still alive when they closed the thermal glass doors and turned the oven on. During the final preparations, the priest gestured for his guests to leave their seats and approach the box broiler.
"How are you doing?" the priest asked the girl who's head was the only part of her that was visible above the top of the cooker.
"It hurts… it all hurts so much!" the girl sobbed.
There was an intake of breath from the assistant when she heard the girl's response that proved that she was indeed still alive.
"I know it hurts a lot, but I want you to hold out just a little bit longer. Can you do that?" the priest caressed the girl's cheek as he asked her this favor.
"But why?" the girl cried, "I wasn't good enough to be selected as a ceremonial sacrifice. Just this… training thing." she panted as the heat in the cooking chamber started to overheat her body. "So… so hot."
"Not good enough? You were chosen for today for a very special reason. We have some important guests and I wanted them to see an excellent performance. That is why you are being sacrificed today, not because of any failing on your part at all." the priest told the suffering girl.
"Really?" the girl asked hopefully as she looked around at the indicated guests.
"Absolutely." the priest assured the girl.
"Did… did I put on a good per… per… show for you?" the girl asked the Professor.
"You did indeed. I would say it was the most spectacular show I have ever seen." the Professor said compassionately.
"Thank… thank you…" the girl was barely able to say. But it looked as if she might pass out at any moment.
"This will help to end your suffering." the priest pushed a button and the motor in the plumbing kicked on.
"What's happening?" the professor asked.
"Do you recall the rod that was pushed up through her ass and into her rice filled gut?" the mayor asked.
"Yes." she remembered it clearly. At first she thought they were going to spit the girl and keep inserting the pipe until it came out of her mouth. But it stopped before reaching her lungs.
"It was perforated and right now it is pumping several liters of hot flavored broth into the rice mix." the mayor told the guests quietly.
Both of them blanched. Most everyone knew what would happen when you added water… or broth, to rice. They took a step back and watched the girl's body through the clear thermal glass doors as the rice began to swell with the infusion of the broth. At first, they were afraid that the wound in her abdomen would open up and the contents would explode all over the inside of the oven. But the trussing stitches held and instead they heard a sharp cracking sound that seemed to make the girl's body jerk in her bindings. Looking up at her face, they saw her eyes finally roll back and they knew she was finally at peace.
"What… what was the snapping sound?" the assistant asked.
"The expanding rice flattened the diaphragm and the lungs… the snapping sounds were her ribs breaking… and finally… it crushed her heart." the professor said quietly. She had anticipated this. It was a symptom she might have to face with the subjects in her research as well… although for quite a different cause.
"We're not going to… eat her… are we?" the assistant was still staring at the body of the now dead girl who was still cooking on the other side of the broiler's thermal glass doors.
"We won't have time for that." the professor put her arm around her nervous assistant to reassure her and explained, "It will take some time to properly cook her and I have to be heading back on the afternoon ferry if we are to move forward with…"
"Move forward?" the assistant looked up to her boss but was still a little dazed by all she had seen since arriving on the island. She was about to gasp, After what we just saw! How could you want to do anything with these people? But a sharp glance from the Professor silenced her.
"Is there a place where we can talk?" the professor asked her hosts.
"Yes, my office is just this way." the priest gestured for them to all follow him.
The priest's office was a simple place but it did have a tea set and he quickly made a pot of a calming lotus tea, at the professor's request.
"I'm worried that you may have been a little overstimulated, so I want you to drink this tea and try to relax a bit while I talk with our hosts." the professor said in a kind and caring voice as she handed over the tea that she had specially prepared for her young assistant.
"But, I should be there to support you…" the assistant started to object and get up from the couch but the professor pushed her back down.
"No, not yet. You can help me later, but for now I want you to just sit here and relax." the professor still sounded caring, but was a bit more stern this time.
"Yes." the assistant blushed and took a sip of her tea. It had an odd taste to it but wasn't unpleasant. "I've never tasted anything like this before."
"It is a special blend designed to relax and soothe, rather than to invigorate." the priest said with a smile.
"Oh." the assistant decided that it would probably be best if she could calm down a bit and took a bigger sip of her tea.
"There's a good girl." the professor said as she sat down on the couch next to her assistant and took a sip of her own tea.
The hosts sat in some leather wrapped chairs on the other side of a small table from the couch where the two guests were seated. They had their tea as well and were waiting patiently for the professor to stop fussing over her assistant.
"So, do you have any questions for us about anything you've seen so far?" the mayor asked.
"Not really. I can't say that I'm thrilled with what I've seen, but I also believe that every culture has a right to it's own customs and ways of expressions." the professor said.
"Profesherr!" the assistant cried out in disbelief that her sensei was being so lenient on them for the terrible things they were doing.
"Quiet now… and finish your tea." the professor hushed her junior, then brought her attention back to the two men in the room and continued, "After all, the acceptance of human livestock does lend itself to greatly furthering my project."
"If you don't mind, Professor," the mayor asked the older woman, "how exactly can we be of assistance to you?"
"Your colleague and our former resident didn't give us a lot of details." the Priest referred to the Professor's colleague that had suggested coming to this island.
"Much of what we will be doing is very confidential, but I can tell you this much." the professor leaned in a bit and lowered her voice, "I will have a need for many… livestock girls in their second trimester with a multiple pregnancy."
"How many?" the mayor asked.
"How soon will you need them?" the priest asked.
"Girls like the one that was sacrificed would probably work, although we may need to try a few runs with younger girls than that. And right now I am anticipating a need for… eight girls a month." the professor said. She knew she should ask for more, then negotiate down, but she just didn't have time for the haggling.
"Will these girls survive the… experiments?" the priest asked.
"It… isn't very likely." the professor admitted. She had decided to be honest with them now, rather than having to come up with excuses when whole batches of girls died when their bodies couldn't handle the stresses of the experiment… or when the experiment consumed them.
"I see." the priest said thoughtfully.
"Will you be bringing in all of your own workers, or will you be employing any of the local population?" the Mayor focused his question on the issue that was more important to him as a leader of the community. If all the Professor's work was done by outsiders and didn't translate to paying jobs for his constituents, it would be a lot harder to sell the idea to the town elders.
"All of the true research positions will be handled by me or my staff, but there will be a need for a fair number of people to help with administrative functions, logistics work, and handling the… livestock." the Professor thought about it for a moment and commented, "I suppose the number of people I end up employing will be directly related to how many… how much livestock I'm dealing with."
"Honestly, I thought you were going to ask for a lot more than that." the mayor chuckled, "We could probably provide you with eight girls a week and it wouldn't impact any of our businesses or rituals."
"Oh, most certainly." the Priest added his endorsement. "In fact, if your project will be running for several years or longer… it would be quite possible to ramp up production for you."
"Ramp up production… of the HuCows?" the Professor asked eagerly.
"Yes." the Priest said with a smile.
"In that case, I'm definitely in!" the professor said as she stood and collected her purse. Her assistant tried to move but her arms and legs didn't seem to want to do what she willed them to do.
"One more thing." the professor asked the men, "If I left my assistant here, do you think your local environment… or interesting practices, could make her breasts grow?"
"Possibly… but we were honest about not knowing what causes the changes here." the mayor reminded the professor.
"Also, if it does work, she may be pregnant and lactating if you take your time getting back." the priest warned.
"That would be fine. But I will want her back – she is a valuable asset to me, so no accidentally sacrificing her while I'm gone." the professor used her lecturing voice for the first time since arriving on the island.
The assistant realized then that it had been the professor who had slipped something into her tea. She knew that she would soon end up in the clutches of one of these islanders who would do whatever they wanted with her body – short of sacrificing her… she hoped. The idea was frightening, but she knew that the professor was giving her something she had always wanted. She wasn't so excited about lactating, and the idea of being pregnant scared the hell out of her, but getting bigger tits… that would be a dream come true!