FAIR WARNING:
The Miss Daisy Chronicles are a stand-alone group
of stories set in the same universe as Cannibal 4H; a
universe where, as the result of "The Great Disaster,"
humans are used as livestock and cannibalism is the
accepted norm.
The Miss Daisy Chronicles contain graphic
descriptions of sex in many and varied forms, some of
which selected people might consider deviant and
perverse. It contains violence, death, family
tragedy, the raising of humans as livestock and the
consumption of human flesh.
Be aware children are not spared in this tale!
They often meet a grisly end. This series, like C4H,
is not for the timid or squeamish. NOR IS IT FOR
MINORS.
If you are a minor go away. If reading this story
would in any way violate the local laws, rules,
regulations, morals or customs where you live go away.
There are many other more edifying stories to be found
elsewhere, stories that would be more appropriate to
your age and legal status.
Let me restate this one more time: the story that
follows this caution is intended for mature,
consenting adults only and should only be accessed
and/or downloaded if doing so would not violate any
legal edicts adhered to in your locale or your own
personal taste.
Pay attention to the story codes at the beginning
of each chapter. They will help you decide if that
particular story is to your own taste. Do not
complain if you ignore these codes and discover
material you don't enjoy or approve of. No one is
holding a gun to you head to make you read this.
If you don't know what the codes mean, go to:
http://www.asstr.org/~Uther_Pendragon/code/scfr.htm
If you are a parent and you find your child has
downloaded this story or other material you find
objectionable, sorry but you need to do a better job
of being a parent.
Consider moving the computer into a room where you
can see what is on the screen. Only let your children
go on-line while you are at home or Google "parental
control software" for a full listing of available
filters and programs. If you don't know how to
"Google," your kids will.
The author does not endorse or advocate the
practices found within these stories any more than
Stephen King really believes people should move their
families in to a deserted hotel in the mountains in
the dead of winter and then try to chop them into
kibble with an axe. They are fiction, make-believe, a
fantasy, a fabrication, not a promotion of the culture
they describe. But they are intriguing to write.
In real life the author is considered to be a kind
and gentle individual who likes small children and
dogs, tips well in restaurants, holds doors open for
ladies and senior citizens and even goes to the effort
of catching insects in the house only to release them
alive and unharmed outside.
Previous chapters of The Miss Daisy Chronicles:
Making Miss Daisy are available at
www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Eurytion/THE MISS DAISY
CHRONICLES/MAKING MISS DAISY/
and
www.bdsmlibrary.com
Previous chapters of Cannibal 4-H are available at
www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Eurytion/C4H/
and
www.bsdmlibrary.com.
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author
unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction except for
personal use and reposting without the author's
written permission is prohibited.
Finally this saga is for Miss Daisy. She knows who
she is.
Eurytion@yahoo.com
THE MISS DAISY CHRONICLES: MAKING MISS DAISY
"I don't know what your destiny will be, but one
thing I know: the only ones among you who will be
really happy are those who have sought and found how
to serve." Albert Schweitzer
CHAPTER THREE: COMING CLEAN
(Caution, Human Cattle, no sex, plot development)
THE HENHOUSE WAS A SMALL, rectangular building, its
weathered grey walls flaking leprously. A set of
three uneven steps lead up to a battered screen door
sagging on its hinges. The inside was gloomy and
damp, sealed windows on the north side letting in very
little light and almost no air, except for what leaked
around their rotting jambs. The floor was a mixture
of corncobs and chicken manure. Two round feed pans
flanked either side of a long but shallow zinc
watering trough.
The short wall directly across from the door looked
like an avian jungle gym, studded as it was with
wooden slats for the chickens to perch on. The last
wall was a collection of setting boxes, essentially
cut down crates with a handful of straw lining the
bottom for the birds to nest in.
Chickens occupied some of the crates, some were empty
and a couple had a forlorn glass egg in them, a
reminder to the chickens of why they were there.
Although the meat of the chickens was poison their
eggs were one of the few natural animal products that
could safely be eaten after the Great Disaster.
Humming to himself, Morgan put down the toolbox he
was carrying and began to stuff batting into gaps
around the window frames. That morning he had told
Flo, he was going to do some repairs in the henhouse,
repairs that did need to be done but which would also
give him an excuse to be there when Tansy collected
the eggs.
After all he reminded Flo, aside from his income
they had little in the way of cash coming into the
farm. Tansy was a growing girl, one who cost a lot to
feed and clothe. Maybe if the henhouse got fixed up
the chickens would be better layers. A tight as
things were around the house, it couldn't hurt to have
a little more egg money rolling in.
He had just finished resealing the first window
when the screen door creaked, announcing Tansy's
arrival. After exchanging pleasantries, Tansy began
removing the eggs from under the hens, a task the
chickens didn't appreciate and seemed to resent.
Each day their resentment took the form of pecking
at Tansy's hand as she slid it between the hens and
the straw. Most of the time Tansy moved fast enough
that the peck didn't hurt. Besides, the pointed beaks
of most of the chickens had been clipped, a standard
precaution to prevent one chicken pecking another to
death.
Most of the chickens but not all. Tired from her
nocturnal masturbatory exertions, Tansy was operating
on autopilot when one of the unclipped chickens scored
a direct hit on the web of flesh between her thumb and
forefinger, causing Tansy to yelp and drawing a small
bit of blood in the process.
Acting concerned, Morgan made the young girl sit
down. After clucking over the wound, in reality just
a small scratch, Morgan told his niece he was worried
about her.
"Honey, I know you're still having a tough time.
That's only natural. But you're not yourself lately.
Are you feeling sick because you looked pretty funny
at the dairy, I thought you were going to keel over
toward the end. And then last night when I got up to
go to the bathroom, you were making moaning noises in
your room like you were having a nightmare. You were
quiet when I got out of the bathroom, so I figured you
were sleeping OK but still."
Embarrassment as strong as last night's orgasm
surged through Tansy. Uncle Morgan heard me last night
but how much did he hear? Does he know I was playing
with myself? Oh, I hope not.
"I'm fine Uncle Morgan. It was really hot in the
milking parlour and I did feel a little funny. I
probably shouldn't have had that second ice cream cone
at the dairy either; it upset my tummy something
terrible. I did have a stomachache last night until I
massaged it out. That's probably what you heard.' She
looked away, finding herself unable to look Morgan in
the eye.
"Tansy, you know you can talk to me about anything
don't you? And I do mean anything. I don't blush
easily," he responded, taking her hand in his. "Mrs.
Patel had a little talk with me at Paladin's. She's
concerned about you too. Your grades have been
dropping; your teachers say you're having trouble
paying attention in class, that you spend a lot of
time daydreaming. If you're having a problem, I want
to help you. You can confide in me and your mother
doesn't have to know a thing. It'll just be between
us. I want to do what's best for you sweetheart.
Tell your Uncle Morgan about it."
Again, the young girl denied there was any problem,
although not as strongly as the first time.
"Well, I didn't want to have to do this Tansy. I
had hoped you'd open up and be honest with me."
Releasing her hand Morgan walked over to the covered
feed bin. Kneeling down, he reached behind the wooden
box and hauled out a well-worn manila envelope.
Dropping the envelope in Tansy's lap he asked "Are you
sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"
For a moment Tansy sat as still and quiet as prey
would under the gaze of a predator, hoping immobility
would render them invisible. Then, in an unconscious
imitation of Morgan's mannerisms she began to turn the
envelope end over end, her eyes filling up with tears.
"I know what's in the envelope Tansy," his soft
voice announced. "You're not the first girl to be
curious about becoming a convert and you won't be the
last. Believe me I've seen hundreds of 'em. Hell
kid, you wouldn't be normal if you didn't wonder about
it; what it would be like to leave all your troubles
behind, no more worrying about your Mom and how
hard she's working to keep food in your belly, clothes
on your back and a roof over your head.
"It's an attractive idea. No more studying for
tests, worrying if the boys are laughing at you after
you walk by, making milking motions behind your back.
No fretting about what you'll do after graduation,
what kind of a job you could find, what you could and
couldn't afford to buy.
"Living a pampered life, every need you have
fulfilled, no more decisions to make, no more problems
to solve. Cares and woes gone forever. Just warm
contentment with your role in life and the knowledge
deep down inside of you that you've done something
good and noble for society, that you're helping others
in a way far greater than you could have otherwise
done."
Now the tears were welling from the corners of
Tansy's eyes, salty rivulets tracing their way down
her cheeks to join into a waterfall at her chin.
Morgan sat next to the crying girl wrapping his arm
around her trembling shoulders.
"Oh Uncle Morgan, I'm so ashamed," Tansy choked
out, the words emerging in short staccato bursts
between deep sobs. "I want to be a cow so much but
I'm afraid."
"Afraid of what Tansy?"
"Afraid of what Mom will think, about whether or
not it's the right choice, about whether or not I
could even be a good dairy cow. Just so many things."
"See that's why so many young girls think about
becoming a dairy cow. Because with conversion comes
freedom from being afraid." Morgan turned the young
girl's head toward his, brushing the tears from her
cheeks as he did so. "Tansy, I don't know what your
mother will think and I don't know if it would be the
right choice for you, only you can decide that, but I
can tell you you have the makings of a fine dairy
cow."
"I do?"
"Of course you do. You know that Tansy." For the
first time Morgan allowed his hands to touch Tansy's
breasts, drawing a startled inhalation from the
sniffling girl. Cradling their undersides, Morgan
lightly bounced them on his palms, exhibiting no more
passion that a green grocer would while weighing
melons.
"These have a nice feel to them, firm and heavy.
Right now they're too small, too small for a milker
that is but you're still very young yet. They'll grow.
Question is will they grow enough. Big tits aren't
the only things a diary cow needs but they're pretty
important. These would have to be a good deal larger
before you'd be considered a good candidate for
conversion," Morgan lied. Tansy would already fetch a
decent price at auction but not as good as she would
after the worked his magic on her.
Releasing Tansy's tits Morgan continued his spiel.
"Increasing the size of your teats to dairy cow status
wouldn't be a problem. There's several ways we could
do that. But there's no sense in even talking about
that until you make up your mind about whether or not
you really want to be converted."
Tansy stood up and walked around to stand directly
in front of Morgan. "Oh, Uncle Morgan, I do want to be
a cow, I do. It's all I can think about. That's why
I've been daydreaming in school and why my grades are
down. Cows don't need to do math or diagram
sentences. At Paladin's it was all I could do not to
pick out a stall, take off my clothes and stay."
Playing the concerned relative Morgan told Tansy it
wasn't unusual for girls her age to think they wanted
to be cows, especially right after a trip to a dairy.
Watching the human cattle being milked often led to a
momentary infatuation, particularly if the girl had a
troubled home life.
Knowing nothing set a teenager more firmly on a
path than to tell them they couldn't walk it, he
explained to Tansy that she might think she wanted to
be a two-legged bovine but it was probably a passing
phase. In another month, she'll feel differently
about it, want to do something else with her life and
be glad she didn't so anything irreversible.
For her part, Tansy argued that she had thought
about it, thought about it morning, noon and night and
her mind was made up. Nature had intended for her to
be a dairy cow and a dairy cow she would be. And
since she was going to be a dairy cow, and her breasts
were still too small for that role, it wouldn't hurt
to work on enlarging them now.
If she did become a dairy cow, she'd need the head
start. If she didn't, well that wouldn't matter
because all the boys at school seemed to like big
tits, the bigger the better.
As Tansy congratulated herself on the unassailable
logic of her argument, Morgan mused on how easily the
rebellion of the young could be used as a means to an
end.
"I'm not sure you know what you're getting yourself
into, everything that's involved" Morgan said
explaining about the most common method of breast
enhancement, the use of drugs and hormones taken by
injection and ingestion. He outlined how the
treatment worked, glossing over the physical pain and
the occasional bad reactions involved in the frequent
shots so as not to scare Tansy off.
"By themselves, the drugs aren't enough. There's a
whole range of nutritional supplements that you have
to take as well. They're pretty costly, not as
expensive as the drugs and hormones but still pricey.
It's hard enough now for your Mom & I to pay the
bills, I just don't know where we could get the money
from for this. The one piece of good news is the
exercises you have to do are free. "
"Uncle Morgan, you said you'd help me," Tansy
pleaded. "There's got to be some way to get the
money, maybe if I got a part-time job."
"Sweetie, even if you got a full-time job, we'd
still have trouble coming up with the cash. I could
get it; I have friends who would help. I just don't
know if you're grownup enough to make this kind of
decision and stick with it. And I don't want to
involve my friends on a whim."
Now Tansy felt insulted, just what Morgan had
intended. Here she was ready to become a cow and
Uncle Morgan didn't think she was grown-up enough to
make her own decisions. Well, she'd show him just how
adult she was.
"Stop treating me like a small child. I turn 14 in
two months and I have bigger tits than practically
anyone else in school. They're way bigger than my
Mom's or Aunt Dora's. I'm an adult damn it. Look at
these if you don't believe me." Tansy pointed at her
breasts, revelling in swearing in front of a real
adult for the first time.
Inwardly thrilled by her outburst, Morgan gave her
a slow hard look before informing her it took more
than big tits and a foul mouth to make a silly little
girl into a woman. If Tansy wanted to be treated like
an adult, she had to act like one; otherwise she could
forego his help.
Abjectly Tansy broke into tears. "I'm sorry, I'm
sorry, I'll behave, I really will. Promise Uncle
Morgan, cross my heart and hope to die."
"All right Tansy, I'm willing to give you a second
chance. But if you step out of line and act like a
little kid again, it's over and I will go to Flo and
tell her what you've been doing," a hollow threat
Morgan had no intention of carrying out.
As his niece sat meekly on the feed bin, Morgan
resumed sitting next to her with his hands around her
shoulders, letting her cry herself out before
continuing their conversation.
"Honey, you know I love you and that I only want
what's best for you. Your mom feels the same way.
Sometimes we think we know what we want but we really
don't."
"I want to be a cow, I want to be a cow," Tansy
softly insisted.
"I know you do Tansy and you'd be a good one too."
Morgan pretended to be struggling to come to some sort
of decision, hemming and hawing while kneading the
girl's trembling shoulders. Finally he stood up and
moved in front of Tansy.
"Look at me sweetheart, it's OK I want you to look
me in the eye." Tansy's red-rimmed orbs slowly rose to
meet his. "This is something I shouldn't do and we
both could get into real trouble if your mother found
out." Tansy stopped shaking and locked her eyes to
his.
"You know I was a talent scout for the dairies
right?" Tansy nodded her understanding. "Well, quite
a few times brokers like me would find young girls
like yourself, well endowed..." Hearing this Tansy
straightened up her back and thrust her chest out,
making Morgan smile. "... and certain they were fated
to be dairy cattle. No talent scout wants to sponsor
a youngster who will change their mind halfway through
the legal formalities of conversion, so we developed a
sort of test to winnow the chattel from the chafe. We
called it 'the game' and it worked pretty well. I
don't know of any one who liked and was good at the
game who didn't make the grade afterwards."
Tansy's heart began to beat faster as Morgan
feigned reluctance. Oh please Uncle Morgan, go on.
Tell me about the game. Tell me you're going
to let me play it.
"I really shouldn't do this, honestly I shouldn't
but it tears me up to see you like this. You and I
both need to be sure about you want before we talk to
your mother." Squaring his shoulders and setting his
face in a firm "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead"
demeanour he continued. "Flo's going away later this
month; the Mystic and Benevolent Order of Samhin
women's retreat over in Fraiserton. While she's gone
I'll let you play the game."
Squealing like a sow caught in a fence, Tansy
leaped up to grab Morgan in a bear hug. "Oh Uncle
Morgan, do you mean it? Really, you'll let me play?
I love you so much. You won't be sorry, you'll see.
I'll be the best at the game ever. And it'll be our
secret. Mum'll never know. I won't tell anyone what
we're doing. Wild horses couldn't get it out of me."
Morgan laid down conditions to the tear-streaked
girl. She had to talk with Mrs.Patel and if, and only
if, the school's career counsellor felt she was a
qualified candidate for conversion would Morgan
introduce her to the game.
Once she had the counsellor's written endorsement
and if she did well at the game, then he would begin
sounding out Flo on the possibility of her daughter
leaving home for the auction block.
Handing her a handkerchief from his back pocket,
Morgan told her to blow her nose and finish collecting
the eggs and get on with the rest of her chores. As
Tansy was opening the screen door, he gave her one
final command.
"And Tansy? Between now and when we leave I expect
you to be the master of your own domain. That means
you keep your hands above the covers at night. The
only place you should let your fingers do the walking
is in the Yellow Pages."
Without waiting to see her reaction, he resumed his
repair of the windows, whistling, "I wanna sex you up"
as he stuffed yet another crack. If Flo thought she'd
been ridden hard and put away wet last night, just
wait until her got a leg over her this evening.
NEXT UP:
CHAPTER FOUR:
DEFINING MOMENT