Jailbird: A Hucow Story

“It’s important we find ways to make our ‘guests’ productive members of society. Why else are we here for?” Smoke curled up from his mouth, swirling upwards to join the smog settling above the squat man. His chair did not fit him, obviously meant for his predecessor, but in general meant for a man of more stature. Hedley’s wet eyes blinked rapidly, squinting across the vast expanse of oak desk at the man with a spiral ringed notebook on his lap. The warden did nothing to hide his disdain and would have loved to see Ben nervously tugging at his collar, but instead the reporter sat coolly and calmly. Occasionally, the younger man would jot down something in his notes, but never at a moment Hedley expected. “I must tell you, Ben, it’s unusual to have such persistent interest in our operations here. Almost as though you have a personal interest.”

“I think good journalism isn’t to task oneself with reporting the obvious, Mr. Jacobs.” Ben wondered how the small man across from him survived the heat for so long. In his travels through the South, he wondered that about many people. Perhaps it was something to fight against, leading to the tall, lean men with skin like bark and wills like stone who managed to defy the heat and rise in stature. But Hedley Jacobs had none of those qualities. Ben could see the dark stains of sweat in the man’s shirt and smell the sour stench of humanity mingled with cigar smoke. The stench baked into the carpet and walls of the warden’s office, despoiling the work of previous owners and their grim task. “Surely you get multiple inquiries. Your facility is the only one like it. The public must be curious.”

Hedley wheezed a ragged cough as he leaned forward. “What about this here place makes you think people ain’t pleased as pigs in the sunshine to forget about it? How long it take you to get here?”

“From where? The flight took three hours. The drive another four or there abouts.”

He knocked a pile of ash into the tray and returned the cigar to his wet lips. “That sounds ‘bout right. That’s how far you are from civilization. That plane took you to the edge of the known world. Jonestown is a big city by our standards, of course, and you got there by a damn mosquito plane out of Memphis. Most folks give up then. They spend a few hours talkin to the local folk about the weather and head right on back to New York City.” He ennunciated the name like a curse. “But you drove four hours into the goddamn fucking wilds before you found this place. Shit, don’t anyone live out here but us. Guards and their families, those that still have them.”

Ben weathered through the lamentations once again. Every time he brought up visiting the prison, it had been met with resistance of some type, but the preferred discussion point seemed to be the inconvenience of the location. His ears perked up at an actual point of conversation, “You mention the guards. I’ve pulled the employment records and cross checked those with divorce proceedings. Are you aware that ninety percent of married men who work at this prison have divorced or begun divorce proceedings after taking the job?”

Hedley’s beady eyes narrowed. “How do you know all that? How do you even know who works here? I won’t have you harassin’ my men.”

Ben softened his tone, “Well, you and your men are employees of the state. Makes that public record. Same with divorce proceedings so long as you’re patient enough to go through the filings. I haven’t had any contact with your guards or their ex-wives, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The leather chair groaned as Hedley leaned forward and stubbed out the cheap cigar. “It’s one of the things I’m worried about. Looky here. We run a pretty tight ship. Stressful hours, long days. With all that, wives tend to get suspicious. I told them not to hire married men. Always ends poorly in my opinion. But I don’t do the hiring. I get who they send me.”

“But you do think there’s a problem,” Ben made quick notes without looking at the page.

“I think that living out here and working this job is hard,” Hedley mused, sounding pleased with his words. “Lots of little housewives didn’t sign up for it, and so they gather their skirts and head back to momma.”

“Are there morale problems among your men?”

Hedley laughed. It escaped his lips and he almost clapped his hand over his mouth to stop a peal of others from pouring out. “Ahem, no. Everyone knows the work and does it with a good humor. We bring in beer and a picture show once a month. Let’s the boys blow off a little steam. Good library, I always encourage the reading. But mostly, idle hands are hard to find. The boys work hard and sleep well. Two weeks paid leave every three months. And we pay triple what the fields would pay.”

The room rattled with the sound of paper turning as Ben flipped to a new page. “I’m sorry to jump around, but you bring up payment.”

Hedley tensed again. “Learn somethun else from all those ‘public records’?”

“Uh, yes. Do you know where your budget allocation comes from?”

“The state pays for the facility and salaries through federal grants and subsidies,” came the robotic answer.

“Of course, but once you start looking at how that’s all actually allocated —”

“I don’t worry about that kind of thing. Administrators and the prison board handles that stuff. I run the day to day.”

“Sure, but in case you were curious. This facility is unique in that it’s the only exclusively female super-max prison in the region. I took the state’s reported budget for this facility and for the others in different regions, and they’re mostly the same. Except this facility has one extra line that denotes ‘additional funding from sector eighteen.’ Do you have any idea what that would be about? Sector designations like that are generally reserved for off the books funding through shell committees. That seems a little strange for a prison.”

Hedley sucked his teeth, his tongue slithering over the tobacco stained incisors as he slowly turned over a thought in his head. “Ben, I see why the board allowed you to visit. I was skeptical, sure, anyone would be. You know the feeling. A stranger comes into your house, maybe goes into your bedroom. You’ve got nothing to hide, of course, but somethan’ makes it seem like you should hide. You don’t like other eyes looking at your private place.” He pushed a button on the intercom, “Marty why don’t you come in here.” The electric buzz clicked again and the intercom turned off. “You’re not wrong, Ben, we do have a little extra funding. Our facility partners with a group of federal researchers. Inmates volunteer and get their sentences reduced accordingly. It’s similar to other programs you’ll find around the country, usually work related. Now make no mistake, our goal is to create productive members of society. We want to reform these young women and turn them from their nefarious ways. Have you in your research looked at the kinds of crimes these women have been convicted of? I have to remind my boys that these women should never be mistake for a fainting young lady in a societal parlor. These are hardened criminals. Bank robbers, saboteurs, Nazi sympathizes, war deserters, and some outright murderers. They were all scattered around the country and no one knew what to do with them. So we built this place out here where no one goes and everyone can forget. The women are put away and society is safer as a result, but we can’t simply be wards of the doomed, now can we? We must strive to return them back to the world in a manner where they can be, I repeat, productive. It is Christian after all.” Hedley’s mouth stretched open in a wide grin, for a moment become altogether more sinister.

The office door opened, and Martin entered the room. “You needed me boss?”

“Yes, I think it’s time we showed Ben just exactly what we do here with all that extra money. Martin is the deputy warden and oversees the particular rehabilitation program you’re going to be interested in. Before you go though, I need you to sign a little disclaimer.” Hedley reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a clipboard with a single page attached to it. “Simple statement, ‘The undersigned will waive the right to discuss any and all things related to the Williamsburg Plantation Penitentiary pending approval from the board of said institution.’ Just put your name right there at the bottom.”

Ben could feel Martin’s eyes on the back of his neck as he read the statement. He’d signed contracts and waivers a dozen pages long simply to read a single line in a ledger before. He was no lawyer, but he knew the scope of the waiver was too broad and it certainly wouldn’t cover any illegal activity. “Of course.” He scrawled his name quickly on the page with a smile.

“Good, good. Now then, it was a pleasure talking with you. And if you have any more questions, then don’t hesitate to ask Martin, OK?” Hedley didn’t stand to see him out, but gave a curt nod. Ben thanked him and strode out into the hall. “Martin, make sure he gets the full tour. The board requested it special for him. Apparently he’s been quite industrious in his reporting, and it’s time to finish the story. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Right this way. Ben, is it?”

“Sure, Ben is fine.” The two left the administration building and headed out across a well maintained courtyard. While the offices seemed no different than that of Ben’s own newspaper, the looming walls of the prison itself looked like something from war footage. Fourteen foot high walls with barbed wire coiled across the top and guard towers every twenty five feet. Ben wondered what it looked like from above, a strange fort out in the middle of otherwise desolate farmland. They reached the entryway. Martin conversed casually with the guards as they proceeded through. All of them eyed Ben with suspicion. He made a point to check visitor logs when he arrived. Prior to himself, the last visit had been from an inspector nine months before. Prior to that, the same inspector a year earlier, repeating back to the prison’s opening.

Past the gate, Martin kept a quick pace as he moved through the yard to the dark structure at the center of the complex. Going by the schematics Ben found, the cell bloc made up the core of the facility housing up to one hundred and fifteen inmates. Through public record, he knew that eighty three of those cells should be filled. The cells created a square three stories high looking down onto an open area where the inmates could mingle. From the cells, two exits existed in the front and back. The back would be used in emergencies only, fire or something worse. The front exit led into the shell that surrounded the cells. The prison was built to bomb shelter standards. If the Soviets attacked with nukes, at least the prisoners would be safe in their cells, whatever good that would do them. To the left and right of the main cell bloc building were two smaller facilities. On the left, a services building that housed the laundry, storage, and the prisoner library as well as more guard stations. The right building was the mess hall, but as soon as Ben saw it, he knew something was wrong. The building which should have contained a sizable kitchen and an eating area looked to be twice the size reported in the blueprints. Martin led the way toward the anomalous building.

“Where are all the inmates?”

“Confined to quarters. It is standard procedure whenever we have a visiting party. For safety. Right this way.” Martin opened a door and gestured inside.

“I didn’t realize. If I would have known my presence would have inconvenienced—”

Martin, the stoic grey eyed man with the slightest hint of a foreign accent shook his head apologetically, “You misunderstand. You are not the visiting party I mentioned. We did not even anticipate you entering the prison itself. We took in a transfer this morning. Linda Jameson, you may know of her. Convicted two years ago of making false rounds during the war. I believe her defense was that she could not contribute to the death of another. Yet she had no qualms of taking money for her work. At any rate, the federal authorities were on site, and we remained in lock down since you were still here. Please, let’s continue, I don’t think we’ve missed it yet.”

Ben nodded and stepped into the hall, feeling his gut turn cold as the door closed behind him. The guard on the other side nodded to Martin and a loud buzz noted the electric locks sliding into place. Martin strode down the poorly lit corridor to another door. Ben followed him into the room to find a viewing area for an adjoining cell. Martin closed the door behind them as Ben stepped up to the glass window and looked in to see a woman sitting on a padded exam table, completely naked. His cheeks reddened. “What’s going on here?”

Martin stepped up beside him, his posture rigid and militaristic. The folksy yes-man who took Ben from the office vanished from Martin’s demeanor. “You wished to know what goes on here. The best way to learn is by seeing, of course. Linda is our most recent volunteer. She received quite the excellent arrangement. A reduction of fifteen years in her twenty year sentence to enroll in our program. What would you give for the chance to reclaim fifteen years of your life? Especially when you have so much to gain.” He checked his watch. “Let me get you up to speed quickly. The war did not touch America or Americans like it did the rest of the world, but your military did get to see that humans have ceased to evolve. Tools have become so advanced that the human form is falling behind. Research was recovered along these lines. The original researchers did not have the resources to proceed any further along these routes. Now, with new benefactors and worries about another war or a nuclear winter, suddenly resources are plentiful.”

“You’re researching for the military?” Ben’s curiosity won out, but he did not look away from the woman in front of him. She was resting with her eyes closed, but obviously awake as they periodically fluttered open to look at the door. She did not seem to mind her nudity, but Ben thought that might be a byproduct of the jail environment.

“Yes. We are in pursuit of the next step of human evolution. A superhuman capable of surviving tremendous trauma or harsh environments. That led us to create a serum and bring it here for testing.”

“Why women? Why not men?”

“Male testing beings shortly. We began with women because their bodies are more genetically pliable, so to speak. The serum was given to Linda upon her completion of her paperwork roughly thirty minutes ago. The process has begun internally and outward appearances will begin to change shortly. This is an older version of the formula. Our newest, most experimental batch takes only minutes to reach full effectiveness. Would you like some water? It gets so hot here during the summer.” Martin offered him a glass. Ben realized that his host had been chatting away while pouring from a pitcher on the table behind them. He’d been so concentrated on the woman that he’d barely noticed. Ben took it and sipped with a polite nod. “Oh, it seems to be starting.”

Linda squirmed on the table. Ben watched with rapt attention, his mind growing clouded with lust as he glugged down another glass of water Martin handed to him. Linda’s hand moved down her stomach and between her thighs. Ben had never seen a fully shaved woman before and doubted he would ever want to see anything else again. Whoever groomed her did an excellent job and left a bald, smooth mound above her pretty, pink lips. Linda’s finger moved slowly into the wet crevice as a quiet gasp left her. Ben was thankful for the water to quench his dry mouth and make an attempt to distract him from the growing bulge in his pants.

Linda’s mind hummed with pleasure. She could barely remember what all the guards told her after her injection. She knew something was supposed to happen to her, but didn’t care what as long as the low hum of pleasure remained. Over the time since the injection, it grew stronger and louder. If someone asked, she wouldn’t have been able to tell them anything about herself. Maybe her name, but not where she was, or where she grew up, or the names of her friends and family. Only the hum mattered, a low mmmmmm that started in the center of her mind and vibrated its way out through her whole body. It moved down into her core bringing back strength which had been sapped away by months of malnutrition and neglect. The hum took root and reverberated in increasing pulses through the rest of her body. She’d never been one to touch herself. That was the devil’s business. But the hum was so enticing. Her hands moved delicately over her body until her finger pushed into the hot depths of her pussy. Is this what a man felt? Is this how a husband was rewarded after a chaste courtship? Another finger slid inside of herself, plunging into her hot wetness and finding a new ache instead of fulfillment. She needed something mmmore, something bigger.

Her body started to change. Pressure in her chest preceded a sudden burst of growth in her breasts. Happily, she brought her hands up to squeeze the new flesh. She’d known other girls with bigger boobs than her, but never envied them. They had to keep them under thick blouses in the summer heat while she could get away with thin dresses. But that was before the hum. The hum spread through her tits and caused them to throb with growth. Linda could almost feel the cells dividing and replicating over and over as new soft flesh billowed out from her chest. She moved her free hand up and rubbed a perky nipple. From that minor touch, the hum grew louder. She took hold of her tit and squeezed, the resulting feeling like a thousand stars exploding in her body. Furthermore, she felt something wet spurt out of her tit and against her hand. It dripped onto her stomach. Holding her hand out in front of her she saw the white liquid rolling down her palm, mmmilk. Without hesitation, she brought it to her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and lapped her hand clean.

Ben watched with pure fascination. The woman’s breasts had tripled in size while he watched. She didn’t even seem to realize what was happening to her. As she leaned back, he saw that her hips had flared out and that her ass squished out underneath her as it turned into a wide rump. She audibly moaned while she milked herself and pushed fingers in and out of her pussy. Ben’s mouth went dry again. The heat pressed down on him. He loosed his collar and craned his neck to the side. His clothes were uncomfortable, and he felt a great urge to run or fight welling up in his extremities. He rubbed his face and tried to ignore the throbbing in his pants. “The fuck did you do to her?”

Martin smiled, as calm and cool as when they had entered. “We have introduced the genetics of a different species into hers to create a new one. I call them hucows. She makes milk that is an ideal combination of what you had for breakfast and what you drank from your mother as a babe. Highly nutritious. You can see she is in perfect physical condition. We’ve marginalized the side effects. Though, I cannot see if she has a tail yet or not.”

“A tail? This is a fucking monstrosity. I’ll have you shut down!”

“Now then, you’re not seeing this clearly. In minutes, we have transformed a weak and helpless woman into a robust and powerful creature. All subjects have show remarkable turn around in physical condition, including the destruction of chronic disease. What would you do for the chance at such health? But more to the point, Ben, what would you give for the chance to mate her?”

Ben’s head swirled. “Mmmate? What the hell do you mmmean?” That hum, where was it coming from.

“We’ve had troubles with male receptors of the serum. The calming effect it has on females makes them docile and easy to work with, but the men become ill tempered and territorial. With their new strength and the horns, it can be dangerous. But I have a new solution, offspring We simply have to breed a new generation of men. That is to say, create a new perfect human from breeding two hucows.”

“You’re a monster.” Ben wanted to do something, but his body seemed to be stuck in molasses. For all his energy, he felt an inability to use it.

“Do you not see your place in this?” Martin asked. “You could be the father of a new race. A stronger one. You could live a life of strength and health and never worry about such petty things again. Look at that cow in there. Is it not your desire to have her? To go in that room and mount her like the beasts you are?”

Ben looked through the glass again. Linda’s transformation had progressed. She’d rolled onto her stomach with her ass stuck up in the air and her pussy swollen and wet hanging off one side while her teats swung off the other, milk dripping to the floor. “Yes…it is,” Ben growled.

Martin opened the door to the left of the viewing mirror. “Linda, you have a guest.”

As though freed from bonds, Ben could suddenly move. His shirt fell off of him as muscle bulged and split the seams apart. His mind vaguely understood that he’d been held back by the constraints of his clothes as they slowly tore from the changes in his body. He lurched to his full height and banged his head on the ceiling of the room. He grunted, but lowered his head and stalked by Martin. The thin man looked weak and small now, nothing like the austere guard that led him to the area. Once through the door, Ben could stand upright without issue. He stretched his whole body, and the hum spread out through all of his new muscle. He looked down to see powerful pecs looming over a washboard of abs. His chest hair had expanded greatly, becoming a thick pelt that was more akin to fur than anything else. It all led down to his cock which looked nothing like he remembered. It was longer and thicker than any he’d ever seen and a thick flow of clear fluid oozed from the tip. At the base, the skin had thickened into a leathery pouch that covered swollen balls heavy with cum. He prowled over to Linda and moved behind her. Lowering his head, he sniffed at her upturned pussy before giving it a long slow lick. The taste excited him and intensified the hum.

Linda looked back at him and shook her hips causing her mountainous ass to wobble back and forth. “Mmmmooooooo!”

Ben grabbed her hips and his cock nudged itself between her pussy lips. His precum mingled with her juices as he prodded forward, searching for right angle. Gone were the thoughts of his investigation. Gone were the thoughts of revolutionizing the world of reporting. All that mattered was the smell of the hucow in front of him. He needed to fill her up. He needed to breed her before another bull came along to do it in his stead. When her belly was plump with his calf, he would fuck her and watch milk flow from her teats until he found another hucow. The number eighty-three jumped out in his mind. Eighty three cows to breed. He pushed his hips forward and Linda’s molten wetness enveloped his cock. He let out a passionate low and started to fuck his hucow with rough abandon. Linda mooed as her milk flowed down the side of the table and puddled on the floor. She too imagined her belly ripe with Ben’s seed. It would mean bigger titties and more milk. And perhaps she could find other bulls to breed her as well.

Ben didn’t last long. His new hulking form hunched over Linda, his hands kneading her ass greedily as his balls pumped her full of his cum.

—

The phone rang. Martin picked it up. “Yes, he worked out splendidly. I don’t know if he remembers signing the agreement or not. I may need to lower the dosage for our next guest. You’ll have all the paperwork shortly. I must say I am pleased with the result. We can proceed with the next phase. Oh, and Hedley, I wouldn’t drink the water.”