Ch 16 - Assault on a Hucow Farm

Vieregg wore a pair of Simonsen AR goggles and gripped the drone controller. The Gjenferd Z52—a quiet rotary reconnaissance model—hovered under his command. Through the stereo feed, he saw what the drone saw: a compound below that looked very much like a hucow farm, one of the places where women were kept as human milking stock. Maybe this time, they’d got lucky?

Earlier that morning, Vieregg had flown a Raven Z51 winged drone to scout a large area. Raven drones could not hover or land vertically, so they were not useful for closer examination of Hucow farms. But the winged drones had much longer range and speed. Their squad used it to check for Neo Dixie patrols and inspect the farms in the area. Satellite photos told them where to look for farms. Through his AR goggles Vieregg saw the land rolled out in green hills, dotted with woods and small lakes.

The trick was telling a normal farm from a hucow farm. The Raven had caught sight of naked girls in the fields—a giveaway. The team set out to confirm. It took them over an hour on foot. The ground was easy enough, aside from a river they had to wade.

That was the problem with moving behind enemy lines: the roads were off-limits. Safer to stick to the back country, but that slowed them down. At least they had the walker—Donkey, as they called it. Vieregg was glad for it. Maya less so; she thought it was for the lazy.

Donkey could haul more than any of them, and Vieregg had insisted on bringing it. He knew the machine well—it was a Vieregg Industries product. They set up behind a low hill near the farm and launched the Gjenferd Z52.

There was no doubt now: this was a hucow farm. In a small pond, two naked girls splashed about, fake cow horns strapped to their heads and cowbells swinging at their throats. But the real giveaway was the breasts—huge, impossible things. Under a tree nearby, a couple more girls lay on their stomachs in the grass, their chests spilling forward because there was no way to lie flat without crushing them.

At first glance, it almost looked idyllic. Sun, water, voluptuous bodies out in the open. The farmer had probably let them out to catch the warmth of a rare February day. Most days still called for jackets. Then the scene broke. On the southern edge of the farm, a girl ran, her massive breasts flopping around as two big men chased her down. She was crying; they were laughing. She stumbled, landed chest-first—poor boobs, they took the fall—and the men were on her in an instant. She thrashed to get free, but they pinned her and wrenched her arm.

He couldn't dwell on the poor girl. He had a job to do. That included locating entrances on the building, any defense mechanism, number of hucows, employees, vehicles and similar. They did not want anyone to drive away and alert authorities.

Vieregg spotted a couple of Psion steam-hybrid trucks parked outside on the Northern side of the farm. One of the trucks looked quite beat up, but it could probably still drive.

"What do you got for me Vieregg," Hildegunn asked.

"Looks like five hucows outside and two men. Probably in their late twenties or early thirties. All spotted on the southern side. Three Psion trucks on the north side. Nobody present there. No signs of fortifications, defense systems of surveillance cameras," Vieregg replied.

Hildegunn pulled out a map plotted on a polymer sheet. They had plotted it earlier when they arrived with their portable plotter. It contained the basic features, coordinates, quadrant, scale, and orientation. Together, it was enough information for their Simonsen AR goggles to determine what graphics to superimpose and where. It was clean white polymer paper with blue ink lines tracing the contours of the landscape and the shape of the farm buildings.

Vieregg watched the map through his AR goggles. After a few seconds’ delay the green landscape overlaid the white polymer sheet, like a crisp high-res aerial shot. He pointed to where he’d seen the hucows and the trucks. Sergeant Hildegunn marked the spots with a non-permanent marker.

"Alvdis, get over there," Hildegunn shouted. She made sure she wasn't too loud. Alvdis got over. Hildegunn placed her finger on the Psion trucks. "Take your Krag-64. Get to that hilltop and take out those trucks." Alvdis brought down her AR goggles over her eyes to see the full aerial shot of the landscape superimposed on the polymer paper.

Next, Alvdis pulled up her Krag 64 and jogged up to the nearby hilltop. It was a scoped sniper rifle. Alvdis was their designated sniper.

ThThe rest of the squad gathered around the map to hear Hildegunn’s plan.

“Listen up, girls. We don’t know what’s inside. We need a clearer picture, or we risk the hucows’ lives. We don’t know if the farmhands are armed or how many there are. I want to send our Sleipnling drone down to scout the interior.”

The Sleipnling was a small wheeled buggy with a camera. The problem was getting it inside.

“I saw some openings over here,” Vieregg said, marking off parts of the southern wall of the dairy complex. It was their best guess where the hucows would be.

Hildegunn studied the map, then tapped the main house.

“If the farmer’s got weapons, they’ll be in there. That’s where we start.”

They drew straws to see who would sneak down with the Sleipnling buggy. Idun lost. Vieregg cursed under his breath, not liking it one bit, but she tucked the little machine under her arm and started down.

The rest of the squad edged closer, spreading out into cover. Vieregg lay behind a low rise, binoculars steady on Idun’s figure. His chest was tight.

She reached the main house, crouched by the wall, scanning for an opening where she could slip the buggy inside. For a moment all was still. Then the door jerked open. A man stepped out. The farmer, by the look of him.

Idun froze, buggy clutched behind her back.

In the next instant he lunged, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her inside.

Vieregg ripped off his goggles.

“Fuck—he’s got Idun! We go in, now!”

“Whoa, hold your horses, sport,” Trude muttered, rifle tight in her hands.

“Negative,” Hildegunn snapped. Calm, sharp. “We don’t charge blind. Not with unknowns inside.”

Alvdis was quick to back Hildegunn. Vieregg’s frustration spiked. It was his girlfriend in there. What were they doing to her? He remembered how she’d come for him when the Inquisition had dragged him off—Trude had been the interrogator then. The thought made his fists clench. He wanted to smash Trude in the face right now, but that would only end with her happily putting him in the dirt.

“Leave no woman behind,” Maya said. “That’s what we always said back in Cairns. And we lived by it.”

Relief washed over Vieregg. At least someone cared. Heather chimed in too. “We can’t leave Idun. We need to go in and get her.”

“No more arguing. Gather round. Look at the map,” Hildegunn ordered. She pointed out positions, who would cover which angle, who would breach, how to pull back if it all went to hell.

For Vieregg, the planning dragged like molasses. He wanted to run down there guns blazing—or better, he wanted the others to do it. Vieregg was not very brave. He was too afraid to go down alone.

Finally, they moved down the slope, leapfrogging forward and covering each other until they reached the main building. Corners secured. Trude and Maya stacked by the door. Alvdis ready to rush in.

Before anyone could kick it open, the door swung wide. Rifles snapped up.

Idun stepped out, blood splattered across her face and armor. “Sexist piece of shit,” she spat.

The squad exhaled as one, lowering their weapons.

Vieregg broke cover and rushed her. “What did he do? You’re covered in blood! Are you hurt?”

Idun shrugged, then laughed. “Not my blood, silly. His.”

“What the f—” Vieregg started, but stopped, pulling her into a hug. Over her shoulder he glimpsed the interior.

He froze.

The living room looked like a storm had ripped through it. Splintered chairs. Bookshelves toppled. Shards of glass everywhere.

Vieregg gaped, turning back to her.

“…Did you do this?”

"That farmer told me I had nice fat tits. Said I’d make the perfect milking cow. Said he’d engorge my tits and milk me," Idun replied furious. "I snapped. And that dumbass thought he could hold me down and add another 'cow' to his herd. He clearly hadn't met a Norwegian woman before."

Vieregg shook his head. “Hmmm. Judging by all the broken furniture, I’d say that was a painful first meeting for him.” He thought to himself that you’d need a death wish to say anything like that around Idun.

“Judging by the noises he made—yes,” Idun replied dryly. “I wasn’t going to go that heavy on him, but then I met two of the poor girls he’d turned into hucows. Sick bastard. He got tossed around a few more times after that.”

The squad stared at her in disbelief.

Vieregg swallowed. Too worried to let it go. “Eh… yeah… is he still alive? Where is he?” He scanned the wreckage. No sign of the farmer.

Idun raised an eyebrow. “Mostly. He’s in the barn. I strapped him to the milking machine.”

Vieregg blinked. “Milking machine? Milking what exactly?”

Idun’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile.

“His penis. Thought he could use a taste of his own medicine. The girls found it hilarious. Dumb fuck didn’t understand why they laughed. He honestly seemed to believe they loved and respected him.”

Vieregg’s hand drifted to his crotch. “Ouch. That sounds painful. Remind me never to really piss you off.”

Idun grinned, laying a hand on his shoulder and brushing his cheek with a kiss. “Relax, Vieregg. Your penis is safe. You’re an asshole, but you know I still love you.”

Sergeant Hildegunn glanced around, unsettled, trying to take stock. “What about the farmhands, Idun? He had other workers.”

“You mean Bill and Bob? They’re getting milked too.” Idun tapped a dark stain on her armor. “That’s Bob. No—wait—that’s Bill here.” She raised her hand and touched the blood splatter on her cheek. “Silly me. This one’s Bob.”

“Bill and Bob!?” Heather asked, stumped.

“Oh, that’s just what I call them. I think their real names are Dom and Trev. The farmer’s Anthony Brown.”

They swept the dairy factory and the house. To everyone’s amazement, there was no one left to fight. Idun had single-handedly taken down the hucow farmer and his two farmhands — who, judging by the resemblance, were probably his grown sons.

Seven hucows — Dolly, Tina, Peggy, Rose, Deborah, Constance, and Vicky — huddled together in the dairy. They were laughing at the sight of Anthony Brown and his sons, Trev and Dom, strapped to the milking machines with suction cups on their dicks. The women giggled like schoolgirls.

“Nasty mean farmer. Now you know what milking is like,” one of them said in a defiant little voice.

Hucow Rose turned excited, her big boobs bouncing up and down, "Thanks for saving us from the very mean farmer." There was a chatter from the other hucows indicating they were very much in agreement.

Vieregg could not help but stare at the oversized, delicious milky breasts. Those healthy round buttocks and wide hips. He was almost drooling. I’m such a pervert, he thought. He fought hard to make himself stop staring. There was a fear that Idun would notice what a creep her boyfriend was.

Hucow Peggy piped up. “Are you taking us to a nice farm? With a nice farmer?”

Poor girls, Vieregg thought. They don't understand the situation very well. "You are not going to any farm girls. You are free. No more milking and sexual abuse," Vieregg clarified.

Peggy blinked at him, wide-eyed and confused. “But… we’re white girls. Daddy and Master said white girls are dumb cows. Too stupid to do anything but milk.”

Vieregg, realized they were dealing with some heavy brainwashing that would take time to undo. He asked, "Do you like being milked?"

Tina tilted her head, thinking. “No, not really. Hmm… well…” she giggled, “when a man milks me gently, it feels nice. Will you milk me gently, Mr. Vieregg?”

Vieregg looked at Idun anxiously. Idun rolled eyes demonstratively. It was clear what she thought about that.

“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. “You girls need to learn how to be normal, proper — like real girls. We’ll help you, but we’ll talk about it on the way to your extraction point.”

Hucow Dolly stared at him, confused. “What’s an extraction point?”

Even though the hucows were likely in their early twenties, their vocabulary, Vieregg realized, was childlike. He’d always known “hucow” was a form of sexual abuse; now he saw how deep it ran. These girls had been raised like animals, denied proper schooling and normal childhoods. Their development had been stunted.

Idun’s face showed both sadness and anger — she cared, and this hit her hard. Heather and Maya looked shocked. Even Sergeant Hildegunn, seasoned and steady, was shaken. Trude looked furious, knuckles taut and ready to pummel whoever needed pummeling.

In fact, she had already pulled out her Krag 22 and aimed it at hucow farmer Antony Brown. Hildegunn put a hand carefully on top of Trude's Krag 22 and pushed it down gently. "No killing. I know Haldis told us to kill all the hucow farmers and their accomplices, but we are not doing that under my command."

A flash of anger crossed Trude’s face. Hildegunn’s patience snapped.

“Listen, Trude. This isn’t the Inquisition. I know the ideological conviction runs strong in the Inquisition, but I’m a sergeant. In the army, we serve the Empire. We do the job. That’s it. Do I make myself clear, Private?”

Trude lowered the rifle, defiant, lips pressed tight. “Understood, Sergeant.”

Before Vieregg had spent much time in Imperial Norway, he had always seen it as a monolith. They were all just cookie cutter fascists made from the same cloth. Meeting Idun was the first step towards realizing that Imperial Norway was a complex place. It was a tangle of factions and subgroups. Enterprises, the Inquisition, the Army, suppression officers, ordinary citizens — each played by its own rules, each with its own level of adherence to the ideology of the regime.

Trude was one of the diehards, the same breed as Haldis Nyborg, who’d given them this mission. Idun followed her heart. Hildegunn cared little for ideology, more for duty. And then there were the Australians. From what Vieregg could tell, they had no interest in ideology at all. Maya reminded him of Trude — if Trude had a heart. Or perhaps like Hildegunn. Someone driven by duty?

Then there was Alvdis. What was she about? She was incredibly hot — and the way she looked at him while sucking his cock had burned into his brain, made him rock hard just remembering it. Alvdis was the classic busty bimbo. He hated to admit it, but she had a hold on him. Being with her was like being picked by the popular girl in school — the one everyone wanted, the one that made you part of the cool crowd.

But liking Alvdis made him feel like he was betraying Idun. Nobody would ever mistake Alvdis and Idun for friends. And the fact that Alvdis was an old friend of Trude didn’t help.

Despite his dislike of Trude, she turned out useful in interrogating the farmer and his sons. As they went through the house, she knew what clues to look for, how to read the scene. Trude worked much like a police investigator back in Sweden.

It hadn’t occurred to Vieregg until now that this was essentially what she was. He had always pictured her job as nothing but the sexual abuse of men.

The interrogation and house search produced a list of hucow farmers. One name made Vieregg pause: Carter Evans.

Even on paper he came across as different. Crueler than the rest, yet praised as one of the “talented” ones. Talented at what? In this rotten trade, it meant he was famous for winning prizes for “best developed udders.”

Vieregg’s stomach turned. Page after page reduced the women’s breasts to livestock parts. “Udders.” The word scratched at him like filth.

Evans was worse than the others. Somehow, he always had the highest yields, the largest chests. The notes suggested he bought ordinary girls, fattened them up, then broke them into hucows and sold them off for obscene profit.

This wasn’t just another farmer. Carter Evans was something else. A man who had turned cruelty into craft — and profit.

Altogether, the team now had the locations of three farms. From the interrogations, they were confident Nora Nyborg was being held at one of them. The plan was set: gather all the hucows at the extraction point. Once Nora was found, an Imperial Airship would come for them.

“Wrap it up, girls,” Hildegunn ordered. “We’re pulling out. I want us back at the extraction point before sunset.”