Gromet's PlazaDevoured Stories

You Love Those Cows More Than Me

by Polythene WrappedMe

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© Copyright 2020 - Polythene WrappedMe - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; eaten; shrink; majick; machine; processed; wrapped; cow; nc; XXX

Warning! Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death

"Come on, my beauties!" I called to my herd of black and white Friesian dairy cows. The wife did not approve.

"You speak more gently to the cows, that you do to your own wife," Barbara scowled, "some days, I swear you love them more than me!"

I did not correct her, which in hindsight was my mistake. I led the dairy herd down to the milking shed for the automatic machines to pump their heavy udders dry. The herd knew the routine, the animals went in without a fuss, relieved to be milked and be fed by the automated machines.

As I watched some animals have their tits sucked, I almost thought that some of the cows orgasmed. There was one young cow, who I named Helen, who was particularly friendly and had deep hazel coloured eyes. I always gave her extra feed. 

Most summers, the herd spent outside, come rain or shine, feeding on grass. The farm kept three fields for winter feed, and in late summer, the farm staff used to cut the grass into long lines of cut fodder. This would be baled by machine, and the farm had an assortment of tractors and a brand new McHale Fusion 3 combi hay baler and integrated wrapper to produce tightly wrapped round bales.

Once mulched down, sealed in black polythene wrapped bales, the fodder would turn into silage. The fermentation process took around a year. The next winter the wrapped bales of silage would be opened, and the dairy herd fed this, in their winter stables. Being kept inside meant the cows were kept warm, but more automated machines were used to scrape away the animal droppings and keep the barn clean.

As my wife's jealousy grew, she was determined that if I loved the cows that much, she would feed me to them! Barbara hired a wizard to concoct a very detailed spell. A spell that would see me shrink to one inch tall, and in my new guise, I would be able to survive being crushed, living without air, food or water, and be immune to stomach acid. You can see where this is going… She used the spell, then inserted me into a heap of freshly cut and mown grass, which the farm workers would bale and wrap to produce silage.

I awoke, laying naked and flat on my back, staring up at the sky. I was surrounded by cut grass, what looked like the size of trees. I pinched myself, convinced I was either dreaming or in a nightmare. A nightmare it was!

There was no one in sight, and no explanation where I was, or what had happened to me. I stumbled about, amongst the cut grass. Its smell told me, it was indeed grass. But if this is just grass, then why is it so big? I wondered. The only logical explanation was either the grass had become giant or I had become miniaturised!

Then I heard the rumble of a tractor approach, and I instantly knew the answer. OMG, I’m an inch tall! I tried to run, hide, shout, be seen, but the tractor was just too quick. Its large wheels and tyres rolled passed me, and it was towing the McHale Fusion 3 combi round hay baler and integrated wrapper. I had bought the machine, so I knew its technical specifications well, but I never dreamed of going inside with the crop!

The crop roller bar squashed the pile of grass down, as its revolving metal pick ups, flicked the grass, at great speed, into the mouth of the baler. I knew inside its mouth was the feed rotor chopping unit, which pushed the grass through banks of the fixed knives to cut the crop as small as 46 mm (under 2 inches) in length.

The chopped grass would then enter the round baling section, and be baled tightly. The machine would then wrap plastic netting around the circumference of the round bale, before transferring it to the wrapping platform automatically.

I felt there was no way, I could be chopped, baled and wrapped and live to tell the tale. I feared being sliced, crushed and suffocated. I grabbed my cock, closed my eyes and hoped for the best. It was strangely arousing to be processed by machine as animal food.

The crop roller bar passed over me briefly and I was flicked up into the hungry machine. I was fed through the feed rotor chopping unit, and in less than a second later, I was into the baling chamber, and the machine mixed me with the grass.

There was a great pressure as the bale and I were net-wrapped, and my bale tumbled out of the baler and onto the wrapping platform. Immediately, I was wrapped under several layers of black polythene, that sealed my fate... or so I thought.

Despite all this, I found I was still alive and miraculously unscathed by my adventure, and I didn’t even seem to be suffocating. The only explanation was this was no miracle nor accident, but some form of torture that my wife had devised.

My bale spent several months fermenting, and I now found myself inside a polythene wrapped bale of silage. I had a lot of time to think what would become of me. Sure enough the bale wrapping was cut open, and the silage and me, filled the animal feeding troughs.

The herd liked its new food. I looked up and there standing above me was Helen the cow. I instantly recognised her hazel eyes. I was wondering how to escape, when her long tongue came down, out of her mouth, and I was licked inside!

I screamed. But her jaws simply chewed and I was flattened between her teeth. I had watched her eat, but never thought she would eat me. She chewed and chewed, and finally she swallowed, and it became very dark as I descended down her throat, and into her stomach. Helen ate her fill of silage, and her stomach was full. But her udder was now also full of milk.

Barbara led the herd down to the milking shed, unaware that her husband was still alive, and inside one of the cow's stomachs. I felt Helen walk, her feeding time over for now. She walked into the automated milking machine, for her daily sucking of her tits, and her daily orgasms. I could hear her heart rate increase, as the milking machine got to work.

Helen was clearly enjoying this. She had even learnt to orgasm as her tits were sucked. One very happy cow walked out of the automated milking machine. Her milk traded for some food and a lot of pleasure. It wasn’t pleasure that I shared, as the silage fermented some more. Later Helen regurgitated me into her mouth, to chew me some more, as she lay down in her pen. Then I was returned to her stomach, and passed through her intestines. Their smooth surfaces rubbed against my cock, as I passed through.

Next morning, Helen did a poo and I plopped out of her arse and onto the barn floor. Moments later the automated floor scraper swept her poo away, and I was disposed of. Barbara never knew how much of that journey I had witnessed, but it would have pleased her to know that I got to know Helen intimately.


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