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Someone had noticed that the size of their udders had increased exponentially and had come up with the idea this might be a good drug to give to human females. Nobody knew if it would make them produce milk but if it increased the size of their breasts that was a good enough reason to try it, and so human trials had been started. The first set of tests hadn't gone that well, the drug was too powerful for humans, it had been designed for cattle after all. They used fifty girls for the first set of tests and they all ended up with balloon size breasts that leaked milk constantly. They also ended up as brain damaged as you could get, the drug rotting their brains. The press heard about all of this and treated the story as a funny aside, picturing some of the girls with their freakishly huge breasts and drooling from the mouth with a blank expression. One newspaper printed a picture of six naked girls in sitting in a cow stall with the heading, The Perfect Girl! All of this gave Tracey natural cause for concern but the advert her boyfriend saw stated that the trial was going to use a new version of the drug which had been reduced in strength. That still didn't exactly placate her too much but her boyfriend was not the type of man a girl argued with, a few black japanese japan eyes had taught her that! It didn't even make her feel any better when she'd heard that the trial was to use twelve girls in total, six slaves and six free girls. She was a free girl and glad of it, female slavery had been legalised a year before and was still in its infancy. Salves were available to buy from registered slave centres which were not in most towns, with cities having two or three of them. Although it was easy to buy a slave nowdays, anyone with money in their pockets could do it, it wasn't cheap. Most slaves cost over then thousand pounds with the best ones going for up to fifty thousand. There was no finance plans in place yet for buying a slave, so you had to pay in full and this put owning a slave out of reach for most people. After all who had ten thousand in cash in their fetish bank account, not many. So although slaves were available and there were plenty for sale, the actual amount you saw in your daily life was very few. It was a bit like seeing a Rolls Royce parked on the high street, unless you lived in central London they were rare! The whole idea of slavery though was exciting to Tracey. She considered herself to be asian a submissive girl, most girls were nowdays, and after all the height of submissiveness was slavery. Once you bought a slave she was literally your property to be used how you wished. The girl was fitted with a steel collar around her neck and embedded in that was a micro chip that gave anybody who scanned her details of her name, age, weight etc. as well as details of her owner. The high price kept most of Hardcore the sleaziest men who wanted a cheap thrill away but obviously some girls were bought purely as sex toys. Or am I gonna have to start screaming fetish right now?" She had this smoky look in her eyes. “Let’s fucking do this.” At this point Rebecca was no longer fighting. Slap, slap, slap. Had she forgotten something? Her fault. “Mr. Dave is a good guy! I need as deep and detailed scans of these two areas as you can get. “That sissy has been well-trained,” she said firmly before taking another huge japanese gulp of the drink. She was hissing and squirming with anticipation, and when he finally buried his face into her Hardcore she squealed with asian delight. Jerry suddenly moved next to Brian and placed his fingers to his lips, signaling his desire for him to remain silent. “I don’t get it. I blinked. Is japan it so wrong that I want to have a little fun first?