Now His Milk Cow (A Lactation Fantasy)

by Bennet, Ashley K.

  "Faster," he ordered.

  As Clara wondered what penalty she might face, she found the drawer, leaned down, wrapped her mouth around the handle, and backed up. At first, she worried that it might be too heavy, but with a little bit of effort, she managed to slide it open. Peering down, she saw a strip of leather with several buckles and what appeared to be batteries.

  Batteries?

  Remembering that she didn't have time to ponder the item, Clara bent down and grabbed it up in her teeth. Spinning around, she hustled back to Eric. Rather than stand up and present the item to them, she remained there on her hands and knees.

  Eric crouched down and patted her cheek. He ran his fingers through her hair, which sent shivers of delight down her back. He was treating her like a pet, yet some part of her almost liked it. Again, she refused to question those feelings, especially when it was so much easier to simply ignore them.

  With his other hand, Eric took the item from her mouth. Only as he held it up, close to her eyes, did she notice another detail. Bells. Rounded bells jangled from the leather.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  Clara had worked diligently to keep herself from naming the item. She swallowed, wishing she didn’t have to answer, but again, his expression made it clear. She had no choice. She had to obey.

  “A collar.”

  “Louder,” he ordered.

  “It’s a collar.”

  “Good. Now beg for it.”

  “What?” Her eyes practically bugged at the suggestion. No, she remembered, it wasn’t a suggestion. Eric wasn’t about to give her any points or ideas. He only issued orders and commands.

  Eric repeated himself, slow and dangerous, “Beg for it.”

  “Please, can I wear the collar?” That wasn’t good enough. Clara realized it as soon as the words dribbled out of her mouth. “Please, collar me. Please, Master, collar me.” She didn’t know where that second word came from, but she didn’t care. “I promised to do whatever you say, and you want to collar me, so I’m asking for it. Okay? I’ll behave myself and do whatever you want.”

  “Why?” The harshness had faded, replaced by that amusement once more.

  Clara might have sighed with relief except his question meant another small test. “Because you own me,” she said, dipping her chin down against her chest.

  “Head up.” Clara complied. She lifted her head and met his stare. He had dark, piercing eyes. It felt as though he could see right through her and read any of her secrets. And when he wrapped the collar around her neck and buckled it into place, she wondered if he realized a twinge of nervous pleasure worked its way down to the apex between her legs. This was more than just a fantasy, she thought, more than those moments when she could be alone in the dark.

  She could feel herself getting damp. But it didn’t make sense. Okay, so maybe she fantasized about some powerful man pinning her or occasionally tying her up with his tie, but this was different, more hardcore. And yet she felt her blood simmer in her veins, teasing out a new kind of passion.

  “Now, there’s the matter of punishment.”

  “Punishment?” she squeaked.

  Eric straightened back up and moved over to the Ottoman. He patted the leather. “Here, girl.”

  A touch of red clouded across her cheeks. No one would have talked to her like that. Even in high school when mean girls had surrounded her, Clara never endured this sort of humiliation.

  It only got worse because she had to do it. She crawled along the carpet and pulled herself up onto the furniture.

  “You know what,” he said after a moment. “I think you should be naked for this.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “Defy me and find out.”

  Clara rolled onto her back and started to unbutton her blouse. She shrugged it off after her fingers finished fumbling with the clasps. She moved down to her pants, wondering what Eric would think when he saw her. At the same time, thoughts of punishment ran through her head. What was he going to do?

  She shimmied out of her pants, kicked them off, and then stripped away her socks.

  “Wait.”

  Clara obeyed, remaining there, spread out like a platter for his pleasure. Clara couldn’t meet his gaze, not when he watched her with so much lust. He smiled down at her, “White panties. White bra. Tell me, do you like to think of yourself as a good girl?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly, grateful her voice didn’t crack or break.

  “You’re not just a girl anymore,” he told her. Then, without waiting for any kind of permission, her new Master bent over and worked her bra’s hook. He released the garment and tore it off, dropping it lightly to the side with the rest of her discard clothes.

  Her breasts spilled out, big, pale, and extraordinary. Throughout his time working at their company, he had wondered what it would be like to have Clara in this position. He wanted her as his property, his animal and plaything to be used and teased and trained. He grew hard at the thought.

  The expression she wore helped quite a bit. Anxiety mixed with a hint of defiance. She wanted to think of herself as a powerful young woman. Years of watching cartoons as a child and then dramas as an adult taught females such as Clara that they should be strong, resilient and independent. They looked back on previous decades where women donned the submissive façade of obedient daughter or wife with nothing but disdain. Well, Clara would learn.

  How long before she truly understood what it meant to be owned?

  Her lips moved again. He thought she had a sexy little mouth, and he couldn’t wait to feel what she could do for him. “Please, do I have to take off my panties?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the collar?” she asked with a hint of hope. Of course, it would have been wacky to have her remove it so soon.

  He shook his head. “No. I want you naked.”

  “But a collar is clothing,” she insisted even as she hooked her thumbs into her panties’ elastic waistband. She could be naked in front of this man. The thought made her want to run her front teeth along her lower lip while the flames of desire licked at the special spot between her legs. Yet the idea of remaining collared meant she really did belong to him in this moment. He would be the one fully dressed, the man who could order her about like a servant.

  “No,” he said with the trace of a smile. “A collar isn’t clothing. It’s a sign of rank.”

  Those simple words made her face flush with humiliation. “What is my rank?”

  “Pet. A very special kind of pet,” he told her. But before she could ask what kind, he told her to roll onto her stomach.

  Naked but for the collar ringing her neck, Clara followed his order. She got onto her stomach. “Grip the front legs,” he told her, and again she complied. With her ankles near the Ottoman’s feet, she tightened her fingers around the front pair.

  “I’m going to spank you, first for being late, then for questioning my authority. And when I’m done, you’re going to thank me for teaching you a lesson.”

  Spanked. The thought forced her to shut her eyes in a vain attempt to block out her embarrassment and shame. Clara faked a piece of information at work, yet she never thought that lie would bring her here.

  Clara braced herself. She tried to remember how it felt when she had been a little girl spread out across someone’s lap. Back then, she didn’t have a choice. Somehow, knowing a single word could make this stop made the punishment more intense. She didn’t think she had been late, yet Clara didn’t dare contradict her Master.

  Master.

  In less than a day, he had gone from a coworker to the man who could make her strip naked and present herself for a spanking.

  Clara kept expecting the blow to sting through her flesh. Each second coiled her tighter as she waited for it. The anticipation grated at her, forcing her to squirm a little. Instead though, he waited, savoring her flustered frustration as the poor animal waited impatiently. Unfortunately for her, Eric got to choose the moment o
f her punishment.

  In fact, he decided to taunt her a little more by caressing the back of her thigh. But he didn’t stop there. He ran his fingers along the curves of her flesh. Each light graze made her shiver as electrical impulses darted through her nervous system. With her face pointed at the floor, Clara grimaced through each sensation. They felt heavenly, yet they were going to be replaced by the flat of his hand soon enough.

  “What are you going to do when we’re done?”

  Heart pounding, breath short, Clara answered fast, “I’ll apologize. I’ll thank you.”

  “That’s right,” he said, only to begin her spanking.

  The first blow landed. It thundered through her body like an earthquake. Clara managed to keep her lips sealed. She refused to let him know how much that heart. Little kids, when they got paddled, probably felt more humiliated and ashamed because someone in a position of authority insisted on reminding them how to behave. For Clara, she felt herself wiggle and shake, readying herself for the next spanking.

  He smacked her bottom again, hard enough to make her flesh turn a bright shade of pink. Heat and pain reverberated through her flesh. It echoed and made her swallow back as her eyes started to tear up.

  He struck twice more, alternating between her cheeks. He left handprints each time, and she was left to grip the Ottoman. “You know, you could just tell me to stop.”

  “No, I won’t. I’ll do this,” she breathed, almost whimpering. “I’ll live up to my end of the bargain.” When Clara shook her head to strengthen her resolve, she heard the collar’s bells jingle as though she were some sort of cow.

  “You realize this is just the beginning, right?”

  Clara shut her eyes for only the span of a single heartbeat. She felt the pulse run through her body along with images of what he could do with her and to her. Simply walking into his dungeon meant stripping her clothes. She had lost some of her dignity as well. Clara never imagined herself as the girl who actually ended up spread over a piece of furniture, naked, and ready to be spanked.

  But this was the only way things could go. Clara had made such a monumental mistake at work. Now she had to pay for it.

  She deserved to be punished.

  The moment passed, and she said, “Yes. I know this is the beginning.”

  “Good girl. But hey, if you decide you like being chattel, I’m sure I could find you a spot.”

  Responding was a bad idea, but she couldn’t stop herself. “No. You get me for the weekend. Then we’re done.”

  “If you say so.” Eric sounded completely unconvinced. She could picture him shrugging, as though the animal’s position really didn’t matter. But then he stroked her enflamed bottom again, teasing her skin. Clara tried not to react, but a little groan of pleasure escaped her lips. “See.”

  Before she could scramble toward some response, he smacked her ass again. He struck harder this time. The force shook through her body. She tightened her grip and waited for the next, and the next after that. They came in a haze, each blow sharp. He wanted her disciplined. He wanted her to feel the heat spread throughout her body. The welts prickled up.

  He stopped, yet by then her breathing had turned ragged as her heart pounded behind her ribs.

  “Did you like that?”

  “No!” she gasped, too flustered to lie or dissemble. It didn’t matter if an honest response got her in more trouble. Clara simply couldn’t think straight. If she tried, she probably would have messed up a math problem as simple as two plus two.

  “Really?” he asked, his solitary word pumped with something close to genuine curiosity. Eric slid his hand down between her legs. On instinct, she jerked her haunches into the air, exposing her slit for his inspection. Without hesitation, he touched his finger to her lower lips, sliding along the length. “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  Face bright red with shame, Clara obeyed. She had known something like this would happen this weekend, but she had no idea it would be so soon. He slipped his finger inside the folds of her slit. She tried not to moan or make a sound. Her attempts failed as those primal sounds vibrated from her chest.

  He was turning her animalistic. She clamped her eyes shut, and her brow furrowed with concentration, but she couldn’t deny the heat gathering along with every stroke of his fingers, every movement and motion. A big and growing part of her wanted to start to move her hips. She craved the sensation of feeling him inside of her. She would have enjoyed his manhood more than anything, yet his fingers could do just as well.

  Eyes open now, Clara berated herself. Where had that thought come from? Eric was humiliating her! She shouldn’t have desired him, yet the passion and longing swirled through every inch of her skin.

  He explored the depths of her body, teasing her. Within seconds, he found her clitoris and started to stroke it lightly, just enough to make her nervous system vibrate with anticipation.

  “Tell me the truth.”

  “I like it.”

  “Be specific.” Eric spoke like an old-time schoolmaster.

  “I like it, okay! I like it when you spank me!” As soon as those words left her mouth, Clara knew they were true. She couldn’t deny it. He had gotten her so wet! It happened without her even really noticing. The pain of his spanking must have masked the sensations, she thought, not that this theory could do her any good.

  “And what lesson have you learned?”

  “I’ll be good. I won’t lie. I’ll tell the truth.”

  “And?”

  Clara bit down, wishing she didn’t have to go through the next part. Her heart thumped faster, and she tried to think of some other solution. When nothing came, she forced the words out, “Thank you, Master. Thank you for spanking me.”

  He kept stroking her between her legs. He ran his finger up and down the length of her slit, teasing her body until she thought she might orgasm right there. No, no, no she kept thinking, hoping she could resist her body’s obvious inclinations. Her skin had gone pink to bright red, especially around her buttocks. Worse, Clara could feel the spring of desire just to come. She wanted it. She needed it. But she refused to do it. She wouldn’t let him dominate her body so easily.

  Yet he kept it up. Eric kept petting her. He ran his fingertip in little patterns, tracing lines and circles and ovals. Her lips parted more and more for him. She was getting so hot and so wet! Clara bit down, fighting the urge to orgasm. He wouldn’t get her so quickly, nor would he demean her by making her body do something she wished to avoid.

  Clara strived to think unsexy thoughts. Unfortunately for her, she blanked. Nothing came to mind. She couldn’t picture anything but the shape of Eric’s body, the width of his shoulders, and worst of all, his patronizing smirk. He had her, and he knew it. Clara kept trying to deny this, but she couldn’t.

  “Beg me to let you come.”

  “No!”

  “Okay,” he said and pulled his fingers free from her slit.

  Instantly, Clara felt his absence. Before, she had clung so hard to her sense of self. Her determination fled in a blink. Tightening her grip on the Ottoman’s legs, Clara gritted her teeth, but the groan of frustration got out anyway. She wanted him. She wanted to touch herself or feel him inside of her. She didn’t quite care how it came about.

  Desire clawed at her like an inflammation, this need simmering throughout her body. It started at her core and spread out with every beat of her heart. She wanted him. Her throat went dry, and she couldn’t think.

  The instinct to move almost overpowered her until he smacked her butt again. Clara practically jumped at the blow. It brought her back to her senses even as she grimaced through the flush of pain.

  “You said no. Remember?” he mocked. “Sometimes, I’ll be kind and allow you to have an opinion. Ashamed of how easily he manipulated and taunted her, Clara forced herself to remain silent, perfectly aware that nothing she did or said could really affect what happened next.

  He started to pet her butt again, caressing her enfla
med cheeks. She didn’t want to enjoy his touch, especially because it seemed condescending somehow, as if he could turn a light touch into a reminder of her humiliation.

  “Are you ready for the next part?” Eric asked lightly, but then he didn’t wait for her response because it really didn’t matter. “Roll over. On your back. Same position.”

  Clara swallowed, wondering what would happen next. Having her butt perked up had been difficult and embarrassing, only she started to suspect this would be worse. She tried to brace herself, steeling her mental defenses as she sat up and switched position.

  Clara lowered herself onto her back. She reached her hands over the edge of Ottoman. Bending her elbows, she managed to grip the top of the legs. She held on tight for one reason. With her feet planted firmly on the floor now, her legs were spread, her slit exposed and open and practically pulsing for him.

  With a start, she realized something. The scent of her excitement had wafted onto the air. If she could smell it, then Eric certainly could as well. Clara grimaced, wishing she could do something about it. Maybe if she managed to distract him, except one glance at his expression made it obvious that he wasn’t about to lose interest in his little sex slave.

  Clara closed her eyes, wishing she hadn’t thought those last two words: sex slave. He had already seized control of her body. Granted, it was only supposed to last two days, yet something in his gaze made her think he would always possess her. Perhaps not literally, but these moments belonged to him, so in a sense, she would always be his as well.

  Those thoughts and ideas scattered when he ran his eyes over her, appraising her. “I don’t think you’re quite ready yet.”

  “Ready for what?” she asked, timid.

  Rather than answer, he smirked down at her, clearly savoring her trepidation. She wiggled a bit, almost as though she wished to struggle against invisible bonds. Only he didn’t have her restrained by anything but a little blackmail.

  He reached down and grazed her pubis. He touched her dark pubic hair, running his fingers through the course strands until he took a handful and tugged, simply to prove he could. As much as she may have wished to deny it, Clara shut her eyes and groaned, obviously enjoying the treatment.