Mini Fetish stories I come up with

The farm

"Cmon Bethany, you'll need to be a bit faster than that to work on my farm! Hahahaa!"
My grandpa chuckled as a trudged after him. I'd been on his farm for two hours and I was already hating it. The smell of poo, the lack of Wi-Fi, the size of everything, I was never the least fit person in the room, but my legs felt like lead running after my grandpa during his tour. It didn't help that I'd hit puberty last week, and my godforsaken DD breasts were like 3 litres of milk always hanging off my chest. When we got to my bedroom I would be fast asleep before you could say 'farm'.

"In here, Beth, it where me keep all the cattle!" My grandad yelled, his voice lacking any kind of breathlessness. He couldn't be human to run that fast and still have air in his lungs.
"Coming -pant- grandpa -pant- could you please -pant pant- not run so fast?" I struggled to speak through gasps of air.
"Well you'll need to be big and strong to be a part of my cattle!"
"You mean 'work with' the cattle right?" I replied with a nervous chuckle.
"You'll see what I mean, my little cow." grandpa said before he opened the door to his barn.

Inside, lined up in stables like cattle were 50 or so girls, all chained up and sat down, all with breasts so big, I felt bad complaining internally about my breast earlier. Their chests hung bear and they wore cow print panties for what little modesty they had. Their breasts were all dripping with creamy milk, and they mooed lazily, eyes half shut like they were half asleep. I gazed in horror, before i turned to my grandpa, smiling at the spectacle before him. "Beautiful aren't they, my little cow?" He turned to me, his smile suddenly much more sinister.
I stumbled away, screaming, "You, your a- a monster!"
"And your cattle," he replied, "open wide..."
And grandpa shoved some kind of bottle into my shocked, gaping mouth. At first I tried to spit it out, but when the taste of the milk hit me, my tensed muscles relaxed, and I felt my aggression calm itself. I felt somewhere in my head that this milk must have come from those chained up girls, but I couldn't focus on anything but the sweet, euphoric, perfect taste of the most delicious, creamy milk-

When I finally came to my senses, I was in a dark room, tied down to a hard chair by rough, leather shackles. My grandpas voice came from behind me, saying, "Get used to those chains, Sugar, they're the same as the ones used for all the cattle."
I replied, "your a monster, imprisoning so many women like animals."
"Hey, no harsh feelings," My grandpa chuckled, "It's just that the DDs make the best milk. Anyway, I must be going, so enjoy the show. Soon," I heard a door open, "you'll be just as happy as all my other girls." The door closed, and a bell began to ring, somewhere. I could feel the sound resound within my head, like a pinball bouncing and rebounding off the walls in my skull. "Help!" I cried. "Heeelp!" Then a recording began to play, a static filled noise of some cows mooing. Moooo. Moooo. The noise began to mingle with the bell, like a duet, intertwining with one another in my mind, slowly climbing down my head, "heeeelp, heeeelp!", and down into my throat, closing in around my neck, "Heeelp, Heeeooooo, Mooooo, Moooo?"
And soon I could only create one noise from my throat. The moo of a cow. "Moo? Moo! Moooo!" And then all at once the noises of bells and moos stopped, and the door opened. An experimental attempt at the word, 'help' only came out as a "moo." as my grandpa walked over, and said with audible glee, "someone came out well." My attempts at a plead for help came out as nothing but a series of moos and grandpa simply chuckled whist he put a collar about my neck. I turned to try and face my grandpa behind me, it was to dark to see, and a jingling confirmed that the collar around my neck was adorned by a bell. As the door shut once more, I heard a hiss from below my chin. The bell was emitting a pink gas that fogged up the room. I felt it enter my nose, mouth, ears, eyes, even my very skin, and I felt myself lose strength in my body. Every muscle relaxed, and my mind began to relax and conform, the image of a cow changing to me. Once hideous, the idea of cows began to feel more pleasing, more attractive, and soon, cows were no longer black and white creatures with horns and hooves, but instead DD girls with cow print panties and total submission. I was a cow. The gas dissipated, but remained thin enough that I could still feel it, and the door opened again. My master walked in, and patted me one the head, calling me a good girl as he attached a machine to my udders as they hung on my chest. It felt really good, and it made me lactate, which made master smile. Master left, and a humming began as the machine worked. Milk began to pump into my udders, and as the filled, they also grew, bigger and bigger. My udders becomes, larger, softer, rounder, heavier, filling with milk till they felt ready to burst. When the machine stopped. Master walked back in with a lead, and he attached it to my collar. He called me a good girl, and I began to lactate in happiness. As master lead me out of the room, I had to crawl on all fours because of the weight of my newly massive udders like good any cow should, and I was chained up to my pen. And as I sat lazily in my pen I thought about how good it was to be a good, submissive, obedient cow.