Gritting his teeth, Ghost's 6'4" frame shuddered against the pillar he was currently shackled to.

Hands secured around the thick column, ankles anchored to the floor to ensure he didn't kick. His skull balaclava pulled up, exposing his mouth. A thick metal and leather bit resting between his lips.

His black and white bovine ears flicked back and forth anxiously. His tail coiled around his thigh, the tip twitching and thrashing anxiously.

"Good morning, Ghost..." The sound of the Farmers voice echoing out, and his hazel eyes immediately land on them, watching as they silently approach. "Ready to be milked?"

He grunts against the bit, eyes narrowing in both defiance and eagerness. His body rigid, muscles twitching at the thought of being milked. Because after all, that is what dairy cows are used for, right?