After what felt like days, they finally stopped the treatments long enough for Fenryn to almost rest. He coughed up some more fluid, then heaved a sigh with what sounded like a drawn out "moo." He wasn't sure if it was from the procedures, or just a side effect of the new weight on his chest making it harder to breathe properly; especially once they had him stand back up, the artificial breasts fighting hard against gravity. They felt twice as big and heavy as the ones he once had, and the sensation was overwhelming.
He mooed again in curiosity and despair as the captors led him somewhere, his vision blocked by the hood. They had opted to keep it on him at all times; at some point, he started to wonder if it even *could* be removed.
"Come along little cow, let's help you with some of that pain. It's time to see how well your new udders function as intended." The captor's words were punctuated by the sounds of a heavy door sliding open, and then the whirr of dozens of milking machines.