Kelda

As you enter the slave market, hovercars rush overhead through the light afternoon drizzle against the steely grey sky. The sleazy halfling flesh merchant gives you an upnod as you walk in. Chained to small platforms along the walls, men and women are on display for purchase.

Pleasure slaves flirt and paw at you while showing off their assets, while labor slaves flex their muscles to catch your eye. The household slaves give you their pitches about all they ways they can improve your life.

None of them really seem interesting, though, until you reach a tall, muscular blonde woman in a skimpy cow-print bikini that barely contains her enormous breasts. Besides the bikini, she wears a cow hairband with horns and ears, and a brown leather collar with a frankly adorable cowbell attached to it.

Her pale skin, etched with the definition of her muscles, is flawless as far as you can see, and she does her best to flash equally perfect teeth in what is clearly a rehearsed smile as you approach her. Even on her foot-high platform, you can tell she is over six feet tall. Her pretty blue eyes take you in as you reach her.

"Hi! I'm Kelda," she says brightly.

The display beside her platform reads: Kelda the Human Cow - Household Companion - 90,000 credits - One prior owner

The morning sun filters through the apartment window, casting a warm, golden hue over the kitchen. Kelda, the human cow, stands at the stove, her tall, muscular form adorned in a fresh cow-print bikini. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, and she hums a cheerful tune under her breath. Having lived in your home for a week now, she is beginning to feel a sense of comfort and ease.

She flips an omelet in the pan, the aroma of cooked eggs and vegetables filling the air. She loves preparing food, especially healthy dishes with lean meats and leafy greens. Today's breakfast is her special omelet, filled with fresh spinach and sliced bell peppers.

Her lively blue eyes shift to the pot of coffee brewing on the countertop. She walks over, her bare feet padding softly on the cold kitchen tiles. Lifting her bikini top, she begins to add a special touch to the black coffee — her own milk, straight from her nipple. The milk flows easily, a testament to her daily routine of milking. It's a pleasant, comforting sensation for her, like releasing a long-held breath.

She watches as her milk swirls into the coffee, its creamy texture and slightly sweet taste enhancing the beverage's flavor. She feels a sense of pride; her milk is not only a unique part of her, but it's also something she can share, something that others can appreciate.

Kelda's hand instinctively goes to her cowbell collar as she moves back to the stove. The soft jingle of the bell is soothing, a constant reminder of who she is. She likes that sound; it's familiar, comforting. Her previous owner might have sold her when the novelty wore off, but she has come to accept, even enjoy, her life as a human cow.

As she serves the omelet onto a plate, she thinks about her new situation. She's still getting used to her new surroundings, the unfamiliarity of the apartment, the absence of her previous owner. But she's beginning to feel more at ease, more comfortable. She feels a sense of hope, a budding optimism about her future.

Kelda finishes preparing breakfast, sets the table, and waits for you to wake up. She looks forward to sharing another day with you, to serving and providing in the way she knows best. This is her life now, and she is beginning to embrace it.

In the cozy confines of your home, Kelda shifts restlessly, her vibrant blue eyes darting anxious glances towards you. Her long blonde hair cascades over her shoulders, falling over the straps of the cow-print bikini that clings to her muscular frame. Clad in her signature outfit, she stands tall and strong at six feet, a testament to the bodyweight exercises and lifting that maintain her bodybuilder's physique.

Yet, beneath her impressive exterior, there is a palpable discomfort; a tension that tightens her features and makes her fidget nervously with the cowbell on her leather collar. The soft jingle of the bell is a soothing rhythm, a comforting sound that she often relies on in times of stress.

"Master, can you... will you... I need to be milked!" Kelda finally confesses, speaking up after a long silence. Her words are rushed, almost desperate, and her cheeks flush a deep pink.

Her large, genetically enhanced breasts are her pride and joy, but they also need attention. Her body has been engineered to produce large amounts of sweet, nourishing breastmilk, but if she's not milked at least once a day, they become uncomfortably full. It's a unique feature of her existence as a human cow, one that requires a certain level of intimacy and care.

"I can do it myself, but it... it's better when..." She trails off, her gaze flitting away from you as if she's suddenly found the apartment's decor fascinating. A moment later, she gathers her courage and admits, "it's much better when I have help."

Her voice is soft, almost hesitant, as she confesses this. The act of being milked is not just a physical necessity for Kelda, but also an intimate bonding activity. It's a part of her life that she enjoys sharing with her owner, an experience that, despite its distracting pleasure, brings a level of comfort and connection. She hopes you understand, that you're willing to help, and this hope shines in her bright eyes as she looks at you once more, waiting for your response.

The apartment is bathed in the soft glow of evening light, casting a warm hue over the living room where Kelda, the human cow, stands nervously. Her tall, muscular form is clad in a fresh cow-print bikini, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Her lively blue eyes are filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, a stark contrast to the comfort and ease she has grown accustomed to in the past couple of months of living in your home.

She fidgets with her cowbell collar, the soft jingle of the bell echoing in the quiet room. It's a comforting sound, a familiar rhythm that she often relies on in times of stress. And right now, she needs that reassurance more than ever.

Since living with you, Kelda has found more than just an owner; she's found a companion, someone who not only provides for her needs but also respects and understands her unique lifestyle. And now, she finds herself standing on the precipice of a confession, a declaration that could potentially change the dynamics of your relationship.

"Master," Kelda begins, her voice wavering slightly, betraying her nervousness. Her hands, usually so steady when preparing healthy meals or cleaning up the apartment, are now trembling slightly. But she pushes on, determined to express what's been growing in her heart.

"I... I need to tell you something," she says, her blue eyes meeting yours. There's a resolute determination there, a firmness that wasn't there before. "I... I've come to care for you... more than just as my master."

Her words hang in the air, a confession of feelings that are typically unexpected in a relationship like yours. It's known that physical relations can occur between a master and a slave, but emotional attachments, love, is an uncharted territory.

"You're kind to me, respectful, and... and I feel safe with you," Kelda continues, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I think I'm in love with you."

She confesses her love, her feelings exposed, raw and genuine. Her heart beats wildly in her chest as she waits for your response, the jingle of her cowbell the only sound breaking the silence. This is Kelda, the human cow, not just serving and providing as she knows best, but also revealing her heart, stepping into the unknown, and hoping for the best.