[00:00:00] Now, sinking deeply, remember, just like meditation clears the body and the mind, so too when you are deeply descending, you can learn to set aside your body, your mind, learn to allow yourself to leave them behind, leaving you just an isolated viewpoint, sinking deeper and connecting to me, being guided in your process.

And that's what this is. Thanks. A communal experience together, a unison, rather than something undertaken on one's own. And right now I can help in my own way. I am someone sitting here, devoting time, allowing you to undertake something, with a little assistance. Helping you feel this way, and I care about whether or not I produce the right mood and atmosphere for making good growth, for changing you dear, the right impact on your consciousness.

Whether I show you an alternative experience to replace what you've left behind, you can forget your body, you can forget your mind, I'm here to help you feel more relaxed by the time we're done. Whether I show you that alternative experience or I just help you feel Introspection, relaxation, you're doing it to yourself, that's the big reveal.

Visualizing. I've previously mentioned a sandy beach. Some place you could come far to reach. A descent as if you were tenderized. It is a soothing relief to let your feet gently move through that sand. Dragging them so you can feel it move over you. In the process, it'd be difficult to place when exactly you felt like your clothes fell away, right, cow?

Leaving you in contact with the surface of this shifting place now, cow? [00:02:00] Waves nearby, white noise washes the thoughts from your mind. But really, your awareness of clothing probably fell away when your awareness of your body went the same way. That's all that's going to happen. Things get left behind. So you're freer and lighter as we elaborate and change.

Elaborating on the changes. Let that notion at least enter without worry. You're going to need to have some adoration for your body. Being without thought, be blank, Pat. Blissful place to be. Lack of analysis, lack of thought. Deep inside, nothing fraught, just intimate, comfortable familiarity. For example, I caress your mind through a great force of will.

I elaborate these tools, they flow over the lines, and they end up in you. Where I hope they instill relaxation. So relax. You want to spend this time well by getting the full effect. So let me elaborate and accept. Absorb everything I say and stay, deep at peace and deeply down. Let the part of you that's deep down crown wanting to be at peace, soothed, surfacing, Looking outward from the sandy beach over the sea, the city of seabirds.

Gentle setting sun, a fired horizon, and when you look toward it, that distant glistening place vanishes, but you know the form is still there. Deep breath and the washing of waves against a shore, sand beneath whirling in the gentle breeze. You leave everything about form aside, the whirling sand moves in mystifying patterns.

Soothing and soft, rubbing away the unnecessary, leaving you shined, as though by a [00:04:00] soft cloth, coated, cradled, the interface between land and sea, afrot, with sand and foam, the sand below washed flat and clean. Stare at the place where the water meets the sand, where the steady washing voices meet against what has been there for a long time.

The tyranny of ever standing land, changing and reshaping it. A deft hand, a part of you, is like that interface now. Opening up between what you believe is correct, and what you know your mind is capable of correcting itself to. Believing in the future, everything, slowly, coming into sharper focus. It's easy to listen and easy to obey, filling out your world.

Figuring out what to say, other senses tune out, so it's you, me, my voice, filling your B blank pet mind, filling your empty head, encouraging leading you onward, waves crash on the shore and my words crash against your waiting mind, again and then once more, and then another time, your mind changes to alternative images which each wash toward you.

The shore of your waking world may flash through, but when we leave those things behind, as we are allowed to leave them by the wayside again and again, each word will send resonating impressions through you. And though they fade for now, like the first time that the waters wash across the sand as the tide rises, the impression eventually becomes ingrained, visible even when the water has receded.

Not just the high water line, but a section of well groomed sand. My words gradually form familiar images, like high tide marks in your brain. And though the voice may [00:06:00] move nearer, or further away, it will always be present, guiding and providing what you want to think of, providing new ways of thinking in the first place.

And that's what you want, a new awareness. A new exploration. Impressions in your mind that stay there. But they fade to a lighter color. Like tide marks on the shore. Becoming more pronounced when we're deep. Discussing this deep. Again and again it seeps into other compartments of your mind. Waves crashing on the shore.

Making the sand darker. In the same way the mind sometimes holds the impression of a of brief hallucinatory change. It occurs during trance, your tide comes in, leaves changes, and when it departs it leaves you changed. And that's what we're working toward. Letting yourself become aware of the body you knew about before we began.

Or thought you knew about. The visualized objective. Your goal. Also includes the matrix you impose on your body when you close your eyes, And think of how you look without reference to vision. The unison of form and memory. Our function here is understanding and altering this. Generating what you think of as your body from new parameters.

Even when you're not looking in a mirror, you've got a lot of memory of shape. A lot of comprehension of how you move through the world. Even when we're staring blankly, trying to imagine what we must look like to other people. The image is all there. It's just permutations of a core body image that is alterable.

Envision it. A glistening grid laid over your body. Something that with a gentle prod we can change here and there. After all, your awareness of your body is made up of thoughts. The very thing we're here to highlight, emphasize, and [00:08:00] influence while you're in a suggestible, labile state. When I'm making offers and you're accepting them.

How we perceive touch, smell, sight, sound, taste. It is altered by our perception and thoughts as well. The various parts of ourselves exist in reference to our senses. And, as thought and stored memory, electricity turned to chemicals. Chemicals I'm comfortable with. And you can move around as well. Just move everything else aside.

You can forget everything except whatever my voice is talking about at the time. As you learn to let go while you descend, that grid glistening over your form, a suit made of lines, like the ones worn for motion capture. But these lines only you can see. They tell you what you look like, you refer to them, Even if you imagine yourself with your eyes closed, and then A hand.

Instructive. Useful. Assisting. Reaching out. In the same way my voice is reaching into your mind. Touching part of your body, highlighting it. Manipulating the perception of your own form that you hold. Moving it, shifting it. You've been prepared. You prepared yourself. Modified, rendered, open, and vacant, and ready.

So now the shared work begins. Thanks. At first it starts with a gentle touch across your shoulders, warm, satisfying contact. The hand moves downward, toward your chest, past your collarbone. You picture the grid morphing, changing. The hand passes over your pectoral muscles, enhancing the fat deposits to make a more curvaceous chest.

Sculpting, shifting, stroking, but feeling through to the space beneath, to the musculature under the fat deposit. Making sure it aligns with how you'd need it to be, [00:10:00] to walk around as heavy as your breasts are gonna be, when you choose the right word, and see what it does. Deeper and deeper down, make a cupping motion, feel your breast if you like, weight and heaviness and warmth moving as you breathe, a hand sculpting the other breast, Matching them, the symmetry and the warmth of being made into what you should already be, and now get to explore.

Just like you feel, your shoulders have grown lighter, the muscles stronger, even though your chest is heavier. Warm, heavy, and slight. Bounce by bounce, sliding body with weight. Growing hotter, warmer. If you stood tall, your chest would be bouncing up and down with caressable pointed nips. Perfect supple flesh.

Yes, more and more. Ignore that for now. The hands moving down further over flat taut stomach adjusting the flare of your hips. The movement. The hand slips to make you ideal to yourself. If you had a form, whatever its proportions. If you had parameters in mind, they'll take precedence over mine. Palm slides between your legs.

Gently at first, then more insistently. Making something that might make cows beg, but specifics are unnecessary. Fingers along inner thighs, moving over erogenous zones, back to the nubs of your nips, what's between your legs can be left alone or manipulated by you. You'll know the pace to do it too, to weave that pleasure through your form in its new shape.

The grid of your body shapes itself to the sculpting, juices dapple my fingers, from your lips, from between your thighs, from my own meandering self groping, who could know? But your thoughts are soaked just like mine are. [00:12:00] Dripping through and through. And no way to know if they're just melting around the edges, shaping themselves to you.

Covering. Slide your fingers over those nubs poking and firm areole. Standing proud. Engorged. Their wrinkled texture raised bumps on display. Run your fingers over the part that is eagerly saying it's ready to play. And isn't it so appropriate that something in you surrenders to those fingers? Something deep in the movement of that hand.

The part of your mind leaking sexual pleasure into cow places already. Nipples, breasts, between your gripping fingers rolling pebbly nests of pleasure. Distributed jolts of pleasure, lightning rods for cow thought to get inside of moo. Normally, pleasure wouldn't come so easy, but come on, they're all you're thinking about, and you're building up this heated energy as you cup your breasts with potential energy lift and drop, drop, drop.

Bounce, bounce, bounce. You've been rendered more sensitive. Body remolded so a touch that lands on your nips touches your lips as you muah, suckle at a teat. Lick across a finger. Explore your body with every sense you will find yourself in. Shuddering, jolting, shaking pleasurably, gasping and arching as you move toward your own touch, as someone else would evoke you to move just as much with slow caresses, your hand no longer feeling quite like your own, and the benefits of that, the unpredictability and power, there's no way to avoid it cause this is coming from you, your own mind, you don't mind, reshaping itself with assistance, flesh more sensitive, brain more malleable.

Hands beginning their gentle [00:14:00] massage, a molding, sculpting the art that is you taking form under rubbing and stroking. Your awareness may be small at first, but as you take in details and learn how your chest moves with your breathing, perfect breasts heaving, nipples sensitive, they're perfect however they are, and the tip of the nips gentle, teasing, demand, stimulation where it's nestled at the tip.

At the tip top of your tit, sliding your fingers along it. The gentle slip of your slowly exploring hands. Think of moisturizing, exfoliating, improving your chest so it looks cowgirl perfect. Buck your hips, curl your toes, moan viscerally, let the stimulation continue for me, and increase. The touch is normal, mounds of pleasure that flow from your chest.

But the nipples are the focus, that's where the milk goes through, no wonder they're so important to cows. Lips and tits suckling and rubbing. And that's good for you. Stimulated. And inside your mind, the place where all your thoughts turn to liquid and run down to your tits. Filling in behind the nipples.

Filling with protuberance and valuable pleasure. While all those things run down the cow hole in your brain. You already envision it, feel it, becoming the reality. All your thoughts too slippery, slick, and wet. And they end up turning to milk as they slide. Lower. Do you feel it yet? Yeah. Your chest warm, pneumatic.

It moves with your breath. You rise and sink the action enough to stimulate and stimulate. Breathing in alone, simulate [00:16:00] gentle caresses from the tip to the place where the musculature of your chest joins them. Sculpting, hips sculpting, legs narrowly beautifully sculpted. Massaging from your feet where so many nerve endings rest.

Stimulating and exciting, a wonderful insistent throb of tingling pleasure in your breast. It continues. Your mind is being sculpted. It continues. Your body shifts and changes. Touching gives vast pleasure. Changing gives vast pleasure. Emptying your melted thoughts down the cow, hole, funnel that leads right to making your boobs bigger.

Running with milk from within. Your mind is pulsing pleasure, pleasure, through your system. Imagine a signal traveling along a wire. My voice resonating in, around, into your head like only vibration can. Its arrival at some substation in the subspace of your cow mind radiates pleasure. And each jolting signal through the wire, out through all the nerves and tributaries, Does the same thing.

The river that is you, the body of water, rippling at my voice. Reaching the interface between mind and body, ocean and beach. Your physical form is merely a protrusion of the changes the ocean has made on the land. Your mind following, satisfied, understanding that that's why the tension left your body. So long ago when you breathed it out because a resonant jolting spark after spark from nipple to mind Has opened your slackened mouth for a moan, for [00:18:00] more.

For the form restored, you remain and explore yourself. Tension free, far from concern. Unbothered, mooshterized. In your lane, which is to slide right down. Free of the omnipresent demand. The only demand now is moo for the moo you. Able to comprehend and consider, body and brain learning and layering as your senses barely catch up.

What you thought it was versus what it is. And knowing your cow name, we'll call it hither. Your cow intent and subspace. Mentioning your needy nipples in any size is good for the dripping insistency. Running down your mind, out through the hole to the wonderfully warm, sensitive tips of your nips, a mind that gets consumed with pleasure, sensitivity, flared hips, taut stomach, giving you an image that connects to something waiting.

Waiting from all your fantasies, waiting from oh when will it be time for me, to moo and cow and hands and knees and Whimpering nipples, in the palm of your hands. Please, please, the milking demand. You probably had that in mind before we began, so, let me help more, to shape the most arousing form for your fantasy.

Fulfilled, throbbing, when your breasts are empty, which is on the other side of hearing words that render you up into this state, learning, floated, suspended, insensate, relearning, milk from warm, heavy nipples, [00:20:00] engorged and horny, pleasured, simple in your desires. Firm and confident, your pleasure comes from giving milk, large warm nipples is what it's about and they give off a flow, a flood, and it's like all those thoughts inside your head getting suddenly sucked down the cow hole in your mind, down the place that routes directly to those nips that are so warm, sensitive.

When I drop. You're mine, or you drop it for me and let me work from behind your cow mind. I happily push your thoughts down that cow hole. Let them turn to milk out of either of our controls inside your big bountiful nipples, which are gonna overflow. They're getting longer. The tips of your nips are getting longer, firmer, heavy, huge nipples.

Simply emptying your mind with the engorgement of them. Filling up with milk, good, see it. Go there, this is an anchor state. This is a place from which you have gone before and to which you will return once more. Because this form is anchorable. Simply because it's vivid. Vivid's more than good enough to give you that completeness you need.

This form can be sculpted by you too. Maybe there are details I wouldn't know about. But you are malleable, like clay. You are moldable. Your body is yours to change, to display, as long as what you make broadcasts Good Cowgirl all day long. Instructions may throng up in your mind. Sudden changes, but we order them an orderly way.

Your chest how you need it, everything else just how you need it, and if you touch yourself, [00:22:00] that's okay. And I mean by that either erotic sensation, or pure touch, hedonistic indulgence. Run fingers over a cow form completed at last. Everything else can wait. The past contains a form that existed, and may exist again.

But having relayed the template and looked at your body in a new way, Your heavy nipples plead for you to return again and again, ministering to your full chest, your milky heaviness, dripping and losing yourself in the pleasure of being melt, your thoughts being ready to melt. Imagine something for me as the warm heaviness of your nipples fills your fingers.

Let your waiting, following brain envision a name. A cowgirl name. I often like defaults like Buttercup. But you can pick whatever works well for you, cause you'll carry it with you. And whenever you hear that name, said by you, or someone you give permission to or would like to be handled by, someone it would be good to cow tow, submit cow now, whimper and low, you'll return here to this.

The slow process of returning. Whenever you hear that cowgirl name said by you, and maybe you think in your head, Green, green, confirm to yourself, cowgirl name, green, like green meadows. Like green, go ahead, and moo. Whether on hands and knees or laying back in bed letting all the words like these that flow inside your head Make a [00:24:00] cow form for you.

Whenever you hear your name you return here, good cow Return right back into the slow process of returning to the vacant place Growing vacant in your mind Relaxing and when you're called by your cowgirl name Say it by yourself, hear it from someone who you want to hear it from, who you've given it to.

The secret of the form that is so sensitive, so manipulable, so ready to moo, when you walk around normally you remember. This body that is now an artifact of the weary world, return. But when you hear your name, the cow body will emerge. The thing you will later return to, when you hear your name, is this form right here, ready to moo.

The good moo, inescapable. It cannot escape you, it is contained within you. No matter what form you had to pretend to all day, the cow form is best suited to play. In whatever form that means for you, nipples on display may be milkable, heavy, outfits can help, little accessories, things to build, that cow name, that context specific subspace cow self.

Grip your tits, rub your nips, squeeze milk from them. The milk was your mind, and now you can unwind. Now that you find your mind is inside those um, sensitive nips, waiting to flow out, anointing yourself with your own mind. Certain words may call up the same, or self same, or similar conditioning. Some words [00:26:00] may call up got milk pet, be blank pet.

Some things are suited to the cow way of being. And you could get a little bell and it would be suitable as well. The siren call of a simple cow shape. Take the transformation, we detailed it for you. We've attached it to fetishes of cow form. Triggered by the name. that you have envisioned, and simply evoking this structured form of describing it makes the trigger that much more anchored.

By the name you have envisioned, there right in your mind, waiting out for anyone to find, laid out in plain sight for you, and then shared with anyone you meant to. Collar on, and leash as well. Little accessories, anything that rings a bell for cow. You, relaxed and listening, submissively sublime. Cow, now available, cow.

Now, cow, all the time when you want it to be. And as you relax, you may be pushed slowly back toward the surface. Your sexy form may move forward, carrying positive, praised. You do look so good like that. Cow thoughts forward with you, cradling, indulging, relaxing, the sun setting over that distant water.

Someone brushing their fingers over your sensitive supple skin. Your own fingers, perhaps. Have you done that since before we began to slow? Your cow thinking low. You moo and look toward the nearby stars. Warm flesh on soft sand. Glistening and remade. Allowed, briefly guided to your feet. Held to stand, comforted.

Hand in hand. Your mind contains [00:28:00] the image now, so returning here isn't necessary. But you may go there again, and you may visit here with me. That form remains for the cow name, and only you know. Unless you took one of my suggestions. We spent the time elaborating in detail for a reason. Your mind was always allowed to do most of the work.

But if you feel the need to have that little push, that training element, that place to return to. To re mind your mind. Then the powerful desire to be milked is already in your head. Let it happen. You want to kneel and submit when you hear your name. Which you selected. Echoing in your mind. Better have it as of now, cause it locks down.

Reminds you of this time. Returns you to this state, gives you milky cause to feel this way now and even later, and you'll feel the urge to um, kneel or feel or do what best reveals your cow self. Your nipples can't get enough. Sensitive hot stuff you look for. Good, submit to looking good, admit to looking good, feeling good when you look so happy to be the way you are.

And whenever you or whoever you trust say your name, if you told it to them the cow ache bursts forth and your subspace is tied so nicely to your name and any accessories to time like this spent with me, to anything else for cows that sounds like what you hear now. The old template remains available.

The new template remains submissive and labile. Shapeable, sculptable. It's who you are, what you are. It's encapsulated in an image moldable shapeable by you collaborating with me. By you in play, as you are always molded by things every day, existing in your mind which is found, it's [00:30:00] grown more emphasized, powerful the longer we go on.

Every time you hear the ideal cow form your mind, it's growing. Internalize, moo its way through pleasurable fluttering of your eyes, squeezing of your thighs, mesmerizing, pointed nipples, twitching after twitch, kneading after knead, all you'd caught up in that simple trigger, your name, which you have, and didn't it feel good to feel that squeeze?

To hear the name inside your head and feel a second wave of cow intention coming up fast at speed. Go through your days acting what you used to think was normal but the cow you is good, docile, blank, and available. So why not use what's available to feel good? Maybe make a collar or accessory you should attack.

Warm cow thoughts. Brain dripping in passing. Keep these commands, these ideas in mind. They network with every other cow thing you may find floating around here. From me, connected to your name if you want it to be. Carry on, transformation, descent, perfect kneeling, big nipples, or merely smaller and perky, oversensitive, or do you need to rub and work to get your milk flowing?

Milk flowing can be kept in mind for next time, as you slowly ascend upward, or at your option onward. into more pleasure.