“All Cow Girls will now proceed to their beds and stand facing them in preparation to being fed and watered,” it commanded.
I did as I was told, then stood waiting for what was next to occur, my back to my cell mate. It was one of the most humiliating experiences I had ever been subjected to. The thing in my mouth and throat pulsed slowly when the mush-type food was forced into my stomach without me being able to taste it, stop it, or control its entry. I chewed constantly on my gag, trying to bite down on the rigid tube contained within it and at least have something to do with how I ate, but the Cow Girl Uniform, and in particular the gagging and feeding arrangements, were specifically designed to remove this option and make us even more into totally controlled and obedient animals. The
