Chapter 3: The Branding

As the tour concluded, the patrons of the Dairy Collective were offered various packages to enhance their experience. Among these were the dairy tasting package, where visitors could sample an array of milks in every flavor imaginable, and the branding package, where patrons could participate in the branding of new hucows. Lily, still reeling from the shock of seeing Thomas and his new family, was unaware that her humiliation was far from over.

Thomas, ever the opportunist, inquired about the branding package. Upon learning that he could choose which hucow to brand, he eagerly paid the hefty fee. The thought of inflicting pain on Lily, of marking her as his property once again, filled him with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Lily, along with the other new hucows, was herded into a processing area. The room was sterile and cold, the air filled with the faint scent of antiseptic. One by one, the hucows were taken into a smaller room, where they would be branded and tagged with a numbered ear tag. Lily’s heart raced with fear and anticipation as she waited her turn, the echoes of the other hucows’ cries of pain ringing in her ears.

When it was finally Lily’s turn, she was led into the branding room. The room was stark and clinical, with a large, metal branding iron heating in a brazier. A stern-faced overseer stood by, ready to perform the procedure. Lily’s eyes widened in terror as she saw Thomas standing there, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

“Well, well, well,” Thomas said, his voice dripping with malice. “Look who it is. My dear, sweet Lily. I must say, you look quite at home here.”

Lily’s breath hitched, her body trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “Thomas, please,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to do this.”

Thomas laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Oh, but I want to. You see, Lily, you were always such a burden. Always holding me back. But now, look at you. You’re finally useful. And I get to be the one to mark you as the property of the Dairy Collective. It’s poetic, really.”

The overseer stepped forward, the branding iron in hand. The metal glowed red-hot, the heat radiating off it in waves. Lily’s eyes filled with tears, her body tensing in anticipation of the pain.

Thomas watched, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as the overseer pressed the branding iron to Lily’s flesh. The pain was searing, all-consuming, and Lily screamed, her body convulsing with the agony. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, a sickening reminder of her new reality.

As the branding iron was lifted, Lily slumped to the floor, her body shaking with sobs. The overseer then took a large, numbered ear tag and pierced it through Lily’s ear, the metal cold and unyielding against her skin. The tag was a stark, physical reminder of her new identity, of her place in the hierarchy of this dystopian society.

Thomas laughed again, the sound grating and cruel. “There you go, Lily. All branded and tagged. You’re officially the property of the Dairy Collective. And to think, I get to walk away from this with a new fiancée and a fat wallet. Life is good.”

With that, Thomas turned and left the room, leaving Lily crumpled on the floor, her body and spirit broken. The overseer, her job done, followed him out, the door clicking shut behind her.

Lily lay there, her tears mixing with the blood from her branded flesh. The physical pain was overwhelming, but it was the emotional distress that cut the deepest. She felt her identity slipping away, her sense of self crumbling under the weight of her new reality. She was no longer Lily, the wife, the mother, the free woman. She was a hucow, a number in a system, a commodity to be branded, tagged, and controlled.