Veiled PAGE


All went wrong...

Part 1

George Bush, director of MoM’s development department, in conversation with Rainer Mayer, his agent for Africa. “Okay, Rainer! I like your concept! When we get through this, we’ll be the first on the market to make a big realm. It amazed me at the enormous demand for human breast milk worldwide. What progress have you made in your negotiations with the chief?” “So far it’s not going very well. There is no time pressure with Kaoli and so far they have made only bad experiences with whites. The chief has developed a great appetite for white cows after we gave him Birgit Janssen. This is his only known vulnerability. He has nothing against producing us white cows. However, he doesn’t give out Makala, not to mention the recipe. We can hire huge stables in Ukraine and keep thousands of white cows there if only we had enough Makala to feed them.” “Yes! Our Birgit Janssen, the horny little slut! Man, what fun we had at their forking, didn’t we?” Bush and Mayer grinned broadly as they remembered. “But keep going! We would need some samples for our laboratories to produce Makala by ourselves. Right,” asked his boss. “The medicine man has to prepare it every day. After six hours, it’s rotten,” said Mayer. “How distant is the new village from our mine?” Bush asked. “Well, for about an hour! Ah, very good! I can sense what you’re going for,” Mayer replied. “Exactly! We’ll set up a lab on site and take our best men. It would be a joke if MoM couldn’t get what it wants,” Bush said in his arrogant, American manner.

“Lena! Come in!” A six-foot tall, slender blonde came in. I compared Claudia Schiffer or Heidi Klum to this top female, Cinderellas. Everything about her was just right. And she was a real sex goddess. Mayer was staring at her, just stupid. “Mayer, if you have found your jaw again, welcome our new partner Mrs Lena Gutbroad. Lena, please sit down. I informed you about our project beforehand and you could listen to our conversation. To what do you think you could help us?” “Well, I was in Uganda at one of our meetings with the Kaoli. I arranged for the chief to run in my arms. He thought I was a tourist, and he took good care of me. Things went well, he wanted to take me within his village, unfortunately, I had to leave the following day. I promised him I’d come back, and he’d pay all the costs. This fish is hooked.” she reported. “Sweetheart is brash if she knows what fire she’s playing with!” Mayer thought and said: “Hello, Mrs Gutbroad! Pleased to meet you. My name’s Mayer, with ay. You’re aware of the risks, I hope?” “Well, the profit we can expect will make the risk manageable. If the Kaoli has turned me into one of their cows despite all the precautions, our chemists will surely be able to restore me once they get some fresh Makala from me. It can only be a matter of some plant active substance that makes women dull. All this is not magic, I trust our science to be superior to these wild creatures,” she said. “Dream on,” thought the men, both of whom had fun at Birgit Janssen’s forking. “In two weeks, our lab will be ready with the staff. Contact the chief you want to see him at all costs. Mayer is on location and holding the line. Good luck!”



At last in Kitgum. It’s been an uneventful trip so far. I just wanted to take a shower, get something to eat and a big ice-cold gin and tonic. After I passed through customs, a hotel attendant received me and told me I could drive to the hotel without worrying. He would take care of my luggage there. He took my hand-luggage. All I needed to do was to carry my handbag with the money, papers, and makeup. To my amazement, HE, my chief, was there on the taxi stand and took me in his arms, beaming with joy. Surely I am not a little mouse, but a reasonable 175 cm tall woman. But besides him, I looked like a feather. I became boiling straightaway and didn’t even notice how he took me from the taxi stand to the parking lot. Two warriors stood next to a car. He gave me a gentle kiss, lifted me and tossed me to them. One caught me playfully, and the gorillas tore my clothes from my body, and then they tossed me naked and defenseless in the trunk. The flap slammed shut, and it became pitch dark and roaring hot. I was naked on a rusty baking sheet, like a roast in the oven. Then we left. Some fresh air immediately flowed in through the rust holes and made my condition a little more bearable and except a few smaller potholes, that transferred to me one-to-one with no cushioning, we drove in the tribe's direction of Kaolis. However, my luck did not last long, for soon the road turned into a dirt road of the evilest kind, shaking and pushing me till mercifully I became unconscious. Dazed, I perceived how we stopped. The trunk flap opened and one gorilla dragged me out by my hair. Must have emptied while I was unconscious. I smelled like a pig and wanted to sink in the ground with shame and disgust.


Two women grabbed me and dragged me into a big hut, to the furthest corner. They put me on a wooden lattice and washed me, constantly giggling. I was so thirsty I wanted to drink the water from the troughs, but the women tore me away. “Tuba say you don’t drink water, water makes you sick, you never drink that!” Mm-hmm. So that’ their knowledge of English. They took me to a fat mat, probably the Kaoli equivalent of furniture. After the ordeals in the trunk, I was dying of thirst. I drank, contrary to better knowledge, a bowl of Malaka. And it tasted superb, and they were still giving it to me several times. Well, I just couldn’t stop drinking. Malaka not only had an anaesthetic, healing effect on the body but also made my mind more and slower and cumbersome. The contusions and crushes I had contracted in the car's trunk disappeared before my eyes. Unfortunately, however, I also lost my willpower at this point. Then they gave me a tasty porridge to eat, for lack of cutlery I swallowed it greedily with my right hand, my left was for my ass, they taught me. Again and again, I drank Malaka. They handed it to me and I drank it. It was just automatic. Eventually, I lay on a mat. I was completely out of it. As two women left and right from me approached my head hair, another woman turned to tattoo me. From time to time there was something like resistance in me, but then the women giggled and I immediately lost my interest in it, silly giggling about it. I had to fall asleep when they kept ‘beautifying’ me.


Damn, I wondered where that woman was. The bellboy had welcomed her at the airport and taken care of her luggage. While she went to the taxi ranks to drive to the hotel. Since then, she had disappeared. Supposing she would look around Kitgum, I checked every shop and restaurant to find her. I gave up my unsuccessful search in the evening. Thoughtfully I was sitting with a whiskey at the hotel bar when a uniformed policeman came in. “Sir! Are you Mr. Mayer?” he asked me. I nodded. “You’re looking for Lena Gutbroad? We found a lady’s handbag in the airport parking lot. It was empty, but in the dust, we found a business card from Lena Gutbroad. Looks like they abducted her.” “Damn you! Have you found any other indications?” I asked. “Well, a well-known drunkard claims to have seen three savages kidnap her.” “Then it could only have been the Kaoli. I had an idea,” I said and had a sustained, pecuniary conversation with the civil servant.

Part 2


When I woke up, wedged between two stocky white cows, Ngana and Luba. Its owner was the chief, just like I thought I was. They called me Tampu, and I only thought: “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Silly cow, I promptly walked into the chief’s trap.” I had probably completely broken down the drug meanwhile, for I was back in full possession of my intellectual abilities. My whole body burned from the tattoos. However, on my scalp, where my beautiful blonde hair was once, it burned so badly that I cried out loud in pain. Ngana and Luba, my two companion cows, woke up and instilled Makala in me until the pain disappeared and it also passed with my waking mind. As soon as the pain went away, I was again a stupid-clank cattle that lived in the stable with its kind comrades. Naked as I was, unashamedly walking with the other critters on the wooden grate, emptying myself. After that, I got to eat my porridge and drink even more Makala. They brought me to the river to wash me. Mirroring myself in the water, I could look at my beautifications. At my large tattooed parts of my body, arms and legs. Except for two plate-sized areas reaching from the crown of the head to the ears, I was bald on my head. They tattooed my new bald spots, like my face everywhere, with small, different geometric patterns. I was a new branded cow. I noted all this with the same interest. Then they gave me another big jug of Makala to drink and we went to the medicine man. In his hut I knelt before him, he painted something on my face and I fainted. When I woke up, I wore my yoke, my lip plate, which marked me as the chieftain’s possession and the once beautiful blonde hairs of mine were now golden, wide horns of a cow pointing downwards. Now I was a Kaoli heifer. I had already gained a lot of weight on my breasts and hips. Nothing compared to an adult Kaoli cow. I crawled on all fours to the medicine man; I licked in his asshole till it shone pink and clean. With the same passion, I turned to his well-filled balls. His penis had grown to its full glory during my loving surrender. It was huge! I circumnavigated his penis with my tongue, which felt somehow thicker and longer. I needed three attempts to get it in my mouth with no tearing in my lips. My jaw skin stretched and my upper and lower jaw shifted to give more room to my changed tongue and his penis. I sensed him coming, and he squeezed his dick deep into my throat while it exploded. An enormous amount of his sperm poured into my stomach. The rest splashed out of my nostrils and the corners of my mouth. But now I could glide over my face like a cow with my newly long tongue to capture even the smallest drop of his delicious sperm. Licking his cock and balls clean was my dessert, to which I devoted all my delight and in the meantime, he could recharge himself. Then he kicked me, so I turned my ass to him. I greedily stretched my ass towards him and he rammed his bolt through the anus in my intestine. The pain when he pierced my virgin ass made me breathless. However, it soon subsided, for I sensed how I was widening around below, my female genitals and my pelvis pushing further behind me just like a cow. My only piece of clothing, the loincloth was now just decoration, because everyone who saw me from behind saw everything and I was now permanently with my two holes from behind comfortable and pleasant for my holder to mount. After thorough washing in the river, on our way back to our cowshed we passed a jeep in with four heavily armed uniforms, while a fifth one talked to the chief. They seemed to argue. The chief then pointed at me and the uniformed man grabbed me by my yoke and pulled me onto the loading area of the jeep and tied me down there like cattle. We were on our way.


They threw me into a dirty, dark prison cell in Kitgum. There I sat until the evening and then my worst nightmare began. Every one of my modifications began to hurt terribly and my body underwent even more changes. I spent a night full of incredible agony. On the next morning, my pain had become a little bearable and slowly my mind started again. At first, I sat down on the prison flatbed as I had spent the whole night on the dirty floor. That was uncomfortable because I was now sitting directly on my gender. Being a cow, now I could forget what furniture is good for. I knelt in the dirt again. One should know where one belongs, I thought and cried deeply humiliated. I had to summon up all my courage to touch my modifications. In its special kind, my yoke fascinated me. It was huge because it went beyond my shoulders. But therefore light as a feather and filigree, only massive at the neck and the edge. The way the medicine man got my head through that little hole seemed to me to be a mystery. With my hands, I could only reach my mouth and the tips of my new horns with bells hanging from them. Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I lost my beautiful blonde hair. During the excitement, I began to breathe a little jerky and my lip plate jumped up and down. There was something that said inside me I could never remove it. In reply, a terrible pain went through my breasts and hips. It was almost unbearable, and I fell into a redemptive faint. As I woke up, Mayer, and the chief were standing in front of my cell. I was now just a little heap of misery winding in pain, more dead than alive. The chief said to Mayer:

"The heifer will not survive the next night. Either you give me back my property or it dies and your company pays me reasonable compensation." I only heard, wrapped in a mist of pain, but with an alert mind, 'heifer and compensation'. He talked about me like I was some kind of animal.

"Chief, I can't give it back to you. It belongs to itself," said Mayer. Fierce rage was visible in the chief's face, and he turned to walk. In my desperation, I mooted loudly like a cow, and he turned to me.

" When my heifer Tampu wants to return to her stable and be painless, then make another loud moo." The pain tormented me and devastated to the very foundations of my existence, deprived of my human dignity and ready for anything that could release me from these terrible tortures. There was a loud mooing from me, again and again, and between by I roared to exhaustion: "Please release your heifer from these pains. Let me be your cow, your cattle. Please, please, please!"

Mayer said: "I guess it's no good anymore! Security guard, return the chief's cow." He opened it and my owner grabbed me by the yoke and pulled me, like cattle, behind him. I was completely restored to my original state of mind. I was Lena Gutbroad and fully aware of my humiliating situation. A filthy rich associate of a few big companies and with an academic degree in economics was now my fate inevitable to end my days as a cow, as dull cattle.

"Chief, please, I will pay you any price if you turn me back and set me free." I tried my luck one last time. Arrogantly, I still believed I could loot his country to my advantage with impunity, just like my ancestors did. But he just laughed at me and said:

"Shut your mouth, you stupid cow!" And then my owner gave me a full pot of Makala. I would soon find the peace of a dull heifer again and develop without pain into a magnificent fat cow with udders bigger than my head and a wide, child-joyful pelvis and be happy cattle for my pastoralist.

He opened the trunk and threw me in.

Flap it.

Dumb shit!

Moo! Moo! Moo!