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Description

"Ohhhh yay! Look peeps! Cowwies!"

Helena Honeybuns skipped eagerly into the next room, swinging her hot pink phone around wildly to record yet more of her inane chatter amidst the sterile atmosphere of the Citizenry Redeployment and Regeneration Centre.

"Wow! Check out the sexy smells!"

Governess Fo pitied the studio engineer whose job it would be to truth-check, edit, and broadcast the astronomically popular reality-TV star's unprocessed footage. It was a minor miracle her phone was still intact at all - she'd already dropped it at several points during the guided laboratory tour.

Fo guessed the team that re-educated and renamed the former subversive musician had also foreseen her newfound clumsiness, providing her with a device simple and robust enough to survive even the most brutal treatment.

"She's a lively one, eh?" Doctor Wren smirked, handing the Governess what appeared to be a pair of pink sunglasses. "Once again, apologies for needing to merge both your scheduled visits into a single time slot. The Centre's been unusually popular today."

Fo nodded, too worn out by Ms. Honeybuns' antics to muster a suitably witty response.

The Doctor looked down at the spectacles hanging loose in the Governess' hand. "Put those on dear. Direct contact between battery farm produce and human eyes, skin, or bodily fluids will result in unfortunate side effects."

Fo nodded, beginning to unfold the frames, then yelped in surprise as they tumbled out of her hands.

Doctor Wren laughed, taking out yet another pair and deftly sliding them on to the Governess' face without further incident. "There."

Fo blushed. It had been longer than she could remember since she'd been in the presence of someone like Wren. Someone who cared nothing for rank or propriety, talking down to everyone in a condescending sing-song tone as if they were a newly-repurposed drones. Each look was a head-to-toe inspection, featuring a mental undressing so obvious it made Fo wonder why she should even bother being clothed at all.

"This is battery batch sixty two. They're in rest mode, and...one sec..."

Doctor Wren placed her hands firmly on the Governess' hips, lifting her clear off her feet then placing the lithe woman back on the middle of the tour route's floor-mounted guideline.

"...and so shouldn't get too excited by our intrusion."

Fo stared silently in disbelief, unsure whether she was more shocked at the doctor's total disregard of societal norms, or the impressive show of strength.

"We need some stills of the Governess with one of the cows, doctor." Officer Bengtio - the only member of Fo's security detail permitted to join the Governess on the inspection - cocked her head towards the row of standardised milking units. "Lady Weekes' orders."

Lady Weekes?

Fo searched her memories for the name. She knew she'd bumped into the Council member quite recently...within the past three months at most...but couldn't pinpoint how or when.

Doctor Wren interrupted the Governess' muddled reverie. "Of course. Now let's see..." she nodded back to Bengtio, studying her medical infopad.

"Hmm. Attempted robbery - no. Failed debt repayment - no. Suspected...oh! This one has your name on it, Governess!"

Fo peered at the copper-skinned milk drone.

"Are you certain? I don't recall commissioning any new battery cows over the past...year?"

"Oh. Well it says here this was part of a bespoke batch. Three units, converted back in January. Lady Weekes was the originator - you're the co-approver. This one was...erm...Nancy Webb. Suspected anti-government espionage. Ring any bells dear?"

The voluptuous cow slave mumbled around its feeder, then shuddered. Several thick ropes of discharge pumped reflexively out of its genetically-enhanced member, causing even Helena to stop what she was doing and gasp coyly with excitement.

"Don't mind that dear." Wren smiled to Governess Fo. "Its memories were purged months back. Just means she likes you. Or perhaps you simply have that sort of effect on all the girls, hmm?"

Fo didn't have time to respond. Before she knew it, Bengtio and the doctor had shuffled her and the cow's pumping equipment around, allowing for some well-framed footage of the Governess posing aside a pair of delightfully enormous brown udders.

"Can you hold the teat up a little higher, Governess?" Bengtio gestured.

Fo nodded, feeling a headache coming on. The sooner she got this tour over with, the better.

"Smile dear. No - not at me silly. Here." Wren gently took hold of the Governess' jaw, directing her already beaming face to the camera.

Fo felt something warm dripping over her fingertips.

"Good thing I have these glasses on," she giggled.

Description

"Ohhhh yay! Look peeps! Cowwies!"

Helena Honeybuns skipped eagerly into the next room, swinging her hot pink phone around wildly to record yet more of her inane chatter amidst the sterile atmosphere of the Citizenry Redeployment and Regeneration Centre.

"Wow! Check out the sexy smells!"

Governess Fo pitied the studio engineer whose job it would be to truth-check, edit, and broadcast the astronomically popular reality-TV star's unprocessed footage. It was a minor miracle her phone was still intact at all - she'd already dropped it at several points during the guided laboratory tour.

Fo guessed the team that re-educated and renamed the former subversive musician had also foreseen her newfound clumsiness, providing her with a device simple and robust enough to survive even the most brutal treatment.

"She's a lively one, eh?" Doctor Wren smirked, handing the Governess what appeared to be a pair of pink sunglasses. "Once again, apologies for needing to merge both your scheduled visits into a single time slot. The Centre's been unusually popular today."

Fo nodded, too worn out by Ms. Honeybuns' antics to muster a suitably witty response.

The Doctor looked down at the spectacles hanging loose in the Governess' hand. "Put those on dear. Direct contact between battery farm produce and human eyes, skin, or bodily fluids will result in unfortunate side effects."

Fo nodded, beginning to unfold the frames, then yelped in surprise as they tumbled out of her hands.

Doctor Wren laughed, taking out yet another pair and deftly sliding them on to the Governess' face without further incident. "There."

Fo blushed. It had been longer than she could remember since she'd been in the presence of someone like Wren. Someone who cared nothing for rank or propriety, talking down to everyone in a condescending sing-song tone as if they were a newly-repurposed drones. Each look was a head-to-toe inspection, featuring a mental undressing so obvious it made Fo wonder why she should even bother being clothed at all.

"This is battery batch sixty two. They're in rest mode, and...one sec..."

Doctor Wren placed her hands firmly on the Governess' hips, lifting her clear off her feet then placing the lithe woman back on the middle of the tour route's floor-mounted guideline.

"...and so shouldn't get too excited by our intrusion."

Fo stared silently in disbelief, unsure whether she was more shocked at the doctor's total disregard of societal norms, or the impressive show of strength.

"We need some stills of the Governess with one of the cows, doctor." Officer Bengtio - the only member of Fo's security detail permitted to join the Governess on the inspection - cocked her head towards the row of standardised milking units. "Lady Weekes' orders."

Lady Weekes?

Fo searched her memories for the name. She knew she'd bumped into the Council member quite recently...within the past three months at most...but couldn't pinpoint how or when.

Doctor Wren interrupted the Governess' muddled reverie. "Of course. Now let's see..." she nodded back to Bengtio, studying her medical infopad.

"Hmm. Attempted robbery - no. Failed debt repayment - no. Suspected...oh! This one has your name on it, Governess!"

Fo peered at the copper-skinned milk drone.

"Are you certain? I don't recall commissioning any new battery cows over the past...year?"

"Oh. Well it says here this was part of a bespoke batch. Three units, converted back in January. Lady Weekes was the originator - you're the co-approver. This one was...erm...Nancy Webb. Suspected anti-government espionage. Ring any bells dear?"

The voluptuous cow slave mumbled around its feeder, then shuddered. Several thick ropes of discharge pumped reflexively out of its genetically-enhanced member, causing even Helena to stop what she was doing and gasp coyly with excitement.

"Don't mind that dear." Wren smiled to Governess Fo. "Its memories were purged months back. Just means she likes you. Or perhaps you simply have that sort of effect on all the girls, hmm?"

Fo didn't have time to respond. Before she knew it, Bengtio and the doctor had shuffled her and the cow's pumping equipment around, allowing for some well-framed footage of the Governess posing aside a pair of delightfully enormous brown udders.

"Can you hold the teat up a little higher, Governess?" Bengtio gestured.

Fo nodded, feeling a headache coming on. The sooner she got this tour over with, the better.

"Smile dear. No - not at me silly. Here." Wren gently took hold of the Governess' jaw, directing her already beaming face to the camera.

Fo felt something warm dripping over her fingertips.

"Good thing I have these glasses on," she giggled.