Now His Milk Cow (A Lactation Fantasy)

by Bennet, Ashley K.

  Releasing her pubic hair, he ran his fingers up her abdomen to her sternum. He took a moment to examine her breasts. Considering the ordeal of getting stripped and put on display for a man who had once been her coworker, it made sense that she hadn’t noticed the subtle changes in her own body.

  Eric, however, spotted those differences with ease.

  First off, she had become much more responsive. He didn’t need to know her previous sexual history to recognize the unbridled lust rushing through her body. That was only one effect of the drug he gave her.

  Second, and more important to Eric, her breasts had engorged themselves. He reached down with both hands. At first, he only traced his fingertips around those glorious mounds. Her breasts barely moved. They had swollen, and he couldn’t wait to empty them. He wanted to milk this girl. He drank in the sight of her tits, her pink little nipples, and it took all of his self-control to keep from squeezing right then.

  Instead, he placed his palms over her nipples. He didn’t quite touch her, yet he didn’t need to. The simple movement of air and heat over her terribly sensitive flesh made those pleasure buds stiffen into pert little nubs.

  “Do you want me to touch you?”

  She gasped out the answer, “Yes.” Anything more had become too complex for her. That worked fine for him. His animal really didn’t need to be articulate, so long as she produced.

  He obliged her request, pressing his hands down onto her breasts. He started to knead her globes, working her flesh back and forth. He pressed down, making her hiss with a mixture of pleasure and pain. She kept her eyes closed, yet her expression betrayed her hunger nonetheless.

  “Do you want me to fill you up? Do you want me to mount you like an animal?”

  “Yes,” she said, more reluctantly. At the same time, he couldn’t help but notice an absolute lack of hesitation. “Yes, please.”

  “Not quite yet,” he said and grinned at the sound of her frustrated moan. He reached back and stroked her slit again. She was practically dripping with the desire for him. She had proven herself quite responsive. She was almost ready.

  Almost. But not quite.

  He worked her breasts harder now, squeezing and pushing, kneading them back and forth. Her softly warm flesh yielded beneath his touch even as her muscles clenched. She did her best to remain still, yet she kept wiggling beneath him.

  “Stay perfectly still. If I hear your bells jingle, we’ll have to go back to the spanking and start all over.” He smirked at the aghast look of shock that flashed across her pretty face. “Can you do that?”

  She bobbed her chin back and forth very quickly. In another frame of mind, he might have marveled at how quickly and easily a young woman could be turned into this simpering ball of nerves. Her training would require longer, but parts of her had already surrendered to him.

  Eric continued to massage her breasts, working them until she groaned. He glanced at her once or twice, simply to make sure she remained still. She had pretty much frozen up, only making the occasional sound. Each one primal and animalistic, she sounded hungry and desperate.

  It took less than three minutes, but he felt raw exultation when it happened. The dribble of white liquid started to drip down her breasts. They must have tickled her skin because her eyes opened.

  What was happening? She didn’t understand it at first. She wondered if something had leaked onto her, but if there had been leak upstairs or something, then the water should have been cold. And it should have been water. This stuff was white.

  White, like milk.

  “I’m milking you,” he explained before his little cowgirl could make the obvious inquiry. “This weekend, you’re going to be my good little milk cow.” She opened her mouth to respond, to protest in some fashion, but then he leaned down, presses his lips around her nipple, and he started to suck.

  All at once, words fled her. She had never felt anything so powerful or profound. A new kind of pleasure surged through her. Yes, she had known her breasts could be sensitive. Once or twice, she had teased her own nipples while she masturbated, but it had felt nothing like this.

  Each breath came and went quickly. Her heart thundered again.

  Clara forgot how to think. All language abandoned her beyond the simple truth that this man was sucking her nipple. She could feel the milk flow free. It felt incredible. She was practically read to orgasm right then. She had been so close, but with nothing to stimulate or tease her clit, she couldn’t reach the truest heights of ecstasy.

  Then a different impulse nudged its way into her perceptions. She groaned as her other breast started to ache. Realizing what she felt, he lifted his mouth away, but only for a moment. Then he touched his mouth to her other nipple and repeated the process.

  He got a good hold on her breast.

  Before he started to suck again, Clara managed a little bit of coherence, just enough to recognize what was happening. Naked, legs spread, collared and helpless before this man, now he was milking her!

  For an instant, she was about to spring back up and insist he stop. She wanted to demand he explain exactly what he had given her. Right then, the prospect of prison or a lengthy legal battle sounded find.

  She didn’t get the chance to speak.

  He flicked his tongue along her second nipple. An explosion of pleasure rocked her thoughts, scattering them to oblivion. The tip of her nipple stiffened, and he clamped his mouth around the dark spot. With a firm hold, he started to lick and suck. He worked the milk free from her udder, turning this vibrant young woman into little more than a domesticated cow.

  The sweet juice squirted from her breast, splashing across his tongue. His taste buds came to life as he savored the scent of her excitement mixed with this perfect taste. Eric had her. He used her. He milked her and drank, taking her one sip at a time.

  After a minute or more, he broke away, his features lit with his own excitement.

  “What are you doing to me?”

  “Turning you into my pet,” he replied easily. Passion heightened his senses, but unlike the cowgirl, he retained his coherence. He could think clearly and savor every instant he had her in this position.

  Despite all of her discomfiture, Clara didn’t move. She remained there, on her back, arms over her head, legs spread invitingly. With his eyes on hers, he unbuttoned his shirt, his pants, and stripped off his boxer-briefs. Then he couldn’t help but chuckle when she licked her lips at the sight of his naked body.

  He had been hard since first viewing her naked form. Now the prospect of burying his erect member inside of this girl made him grit his teeth. His expression darkened as he wrestled with his own desires. Unlike Clara, he wouldn’t lose himself to passion. He wanted her, absolutely, yet he would maintain his control.

  He climbed onto the Ottoman. Clara could have begged or whimpered or tried to move. She might have even tried to attack him. He stared down into her brown irises and smiled, showing his teeth. He had become the predator, trapping his hapless prey. She agreed to this, and now he would have her.

  He lowered his hips until the tip of his cock slightly grazed her slit. Her body had practically blossomed for him, opening up like some exquisite flower. He slipped inside, pressing with a little more force. She moaned again, a hundred different kinds of satisfaction and pleasure in one sound.

  “Who owns you?” he demanded, pulling back slightly.

  The friction nearly drew her wild. She had never felt a man like this. She couldn’t tell if these feelings came from the drug or the simple act of submitting herself to a powerful man. Either way, Clara couldn’t care.

  She blinked several times, remembering how to speak. “You,” she whispered. “You own me.” A much louder sound worked its way free from her pink lips when he pushed down, deeper into her again. She had been ordered to remain still, but she couldn’t do it, not anymore. She raised her hips, helping him reach deeper.

  “That’s right,” he said gently then wrapped his mouth around her nipple
again. With his palms against her breasts, he kneaded her udders again, licking and sucking in equal measure.

  Considering she knew to expect the onslaught of pleasured sensation, Clara should have been able to brace herself. She tried to firm up her resolve and capacity to withstand his touch with some semblance of self-awareness.

  No.

  The motion of his hips, back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of her made her skin light up. The world seemed to tingle around her. She could have been standing in the middle of a thunderstorm. Everything seemed to fluctuate and vibrate.

  He sped up, pounding her harder and faster. Clara’s fingers tightened around the furniture legs. Her toes curled up, and it seemed as though every single muscle in her body had tightened. All the while, Eric continued to drink from her breasts. He switched udder and continued, drinking her down and panting through his nostrils as he took this beautiful girl the way he always wished.

  Finally, he couldn’t stand it any more. For all of his determination, his body demanded resolution and climax. His cock started to shudder right as Eric arched his back, a feral growl on his lips. He pumped harder and faster as his cock blasted its load, spurting his climax. The sounds he made got swallowed by the feral girl beneath him. She had surrendered herself over to the sensations. Her orgasm rampaged through her nervous system like a supernova.

  Clara’s climax left her drained, but distantly, she noticed her Master push himself off of the furniture pad. Naked, he meandered over to his fallen pants and pulled them up. Keeping her head up required what seemed like a tremendous amount of effort, yet she couldn’t look away. He was so sexy.

  It was only when she glanced down and found the smears of white milk that she remembered what he had done and how he used her. The humiliation echoed deep down in the pit of her stomach, yet it would have to wait. Fatigue weighed down on her.

  Clara watched him come back with a leash. He attached it to her collar and ordered her up. She followed him back to her cage. “Get some sleep,” he commanded. “You’ve had a hard time. You’ll need your rest.”

  Clara had crawled into her cage, shut her eyes, and immediately drifted into sleep. Considering all that had happened since her arrival at Eric’s estate, she thought adrenaline or nervousness might have kept her awake.

  No emotion had the power to keep her going. Even locked in a small cage barely suitable for a farm animal, Clara couldn’t keep her eyes open for more than a few minutes. When the lights went off, her eyelids closed, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

  In the dusky mist of sleep, Clara drifted through nothing and everything.

  The lights napped back on. Her eyes jerked open and she tried to sit up only to bump her head on the bars over her head. For a painful second, she expected to forget all about yesterday and how her colleague, Eric, had found that forgery in her records. Now he made her do whatever he wanted for the weekend.

  From Friday evening to Monday morning, she belonged to him.

  The other images came back in a rush as she blinked, clearing her sight and adjusting to the light. She remembered peeling off her clothes and the way Eric touched her. She recalled the syringe and how it felt to have the tip prick her skin. More than anything, she remembered how it felt to have his mouth on her as he milked her and drank from her breasts as though she were nothing but a common milk cow.

  He had turned her breasts, symbols of female power and dominance, into udders. He had reduced her to the state of barnyard chattel. For an educated woman who achieved a decent amount in her profession, those memories galled at her.

  A human form stood in the doorway. It seemed wrong. The dimension seemed off until Clara blinked again. Her vision cleared, and Clara’s lungs froze up.

  Leaning against the doorway, a girl with short, curly red hair smiled at Clara. “Hi there,” said the girl with a big wave.

  Clara licked her lips, not sure what to do. Who was this girl? What did she want? At first, she thought this girl had to be a servant. Maybe she had wandered into this room by accident or she could have gotten lost. Only then, Clara realized this girl shared a few features with Eric. They had to be related, probably siblings.

  “Who are you?” Clara managed to ask.

  “My name is Rachel. I’m Eric’s little sister. Anyway, he had to go take care of some business, so I thought I’d get you oriented. He tells me you’re going to be staying with us for a while.” Nothing in Rachel’s explanation sounded particularly threatening, yet the girl’s expression matched Eric’s. She looked at Clara like a tasty piece of meat.

  Realizing she was naked, Clara sat up a bit straighter and asked, “Can I have some clothes? Please?”

  Rachel cocked her head to one side and smiled in a rather girlish fashion. Her eyes practically sparkled with amusement, as though she couldn't quite believe her good luck. After what felt like a brief paternity, Rachel finally said, "No, I don't think so. Eric bought you to be the family cow. And cows don't wear clothes, silly.”

  Clara swallowed, not entirely sure how to respond. What was she supposed to say to this girl? Rachel had to be at least twenty, but her bouncy white dress and dimples gave the impression of someone quite a bit younger. Without meaning to, Rachel bought of some sadistic little girl.

  "What are you going to do?" Clara grabbed the bars of her cage. Naked, this position showed off her udders. Her globes dangled invitingly. Although she had been milked not too long ago, they were swollen once again, except not as much as before.

  Rachel approached the cage, talked her hands against her abdomen, and bent forward to speak, "What do you think I plan on doing with our new cow?"

  The color drained from Clara's face. She didn't know how to respond or what to say. When Eric had milked her, she had been locked in the throes of desperate passion. Her desires had overridden her most basic beliefs and thought processes. He would have done anything for him, and nothing could have seemed unbelievable.

  But now?

  "Now be good," said Rachel, both coaxing and threatening. "I'd hate to have to punish you. After all you like such a good little cow."

  Eric's little sister straightened up and undid the lock. She talked both her key and the padlock back into her pocket before throwing cage’s grate down. Clara clambered out right away, refusing to remain caged any longer.

  This girl meant to milk her again. She meant to manhandle her breasts, squeeze them, and make her feel like an animal again. Clara had to try to gain some kind of control over her situation. She was going to stand up and do her best to intimidate this girl. She could talk about laws and cops, especially because there was a good chance that Rachel didn't know about the blackmail material.

  Pushing herself back up onto her feet, Clara made it halfway before a single syllable touched the air. "Shock.”

  The second word vibrated against her eardrums, a pulse of electricity shot out from the collar Eric had forced her to wear. It stung throughout her body, stinging as if she had been bitten by some gigantic mosquito in a hundred different places. Just as quickly, the pain disappeared, replaced by fuzzy tingles.

  "What just happened?" Somewhere at the back of her mind, she could guess that the caller had done it. She remembered the batteries, yet that didn't seem possible. It seemed like something out of science fiction.

  Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and asked, "Should I do it again?"

  She had hoped to frighten this young woman to giving her some leeway, maybe even a strategy to use against Eric. After all, Clara didn't really expect to be his good little cowgirl for another two days. Except this girl seemed just as determined as her brother to train Clara.

  "Back on your hands and knees. Animals don't get to walk upright like people.” Rachel made this sound like such an obvious and basic tenet of the world.

  "Please—”

  Eric’s sister cut her off with one word, "Shock.” She looked smug she said it and watched Clara flinch. At the same time, the cowgirl felt her knees gave way.
She dropped down onto all fours, only lifting her eyes to glare at Rachel.

  Rachel circled Clara and lowered her fingertips so that she could pet the cow on the top of her head. "Let me explain something to you. As long as you are on this farm, you are property. You belong to my brother, and by extension you belong to me. You don't get to complain. You don't get to protest. I will use you and play with you and make you a useful as possible in any way I desire." By then she had circled back around and faced Clara, looking down on the poor cow.

  Rachel's cheeks and lips practically glowed with lascivious intent. It made Clara want to squirm, but she tried to keep her features neutral and even.

  "Now, cow, let's get you out into the fields where you belong." Rachel pulled a leash from one of her pockets and looped it into the same hook that held Clara's bells. With a firm tug, Rachel headed for the door.

  Forced to follow on her hands and knees, Clara scampered after her owner's sister. Rachel led her through the estate. The halls seemed to wind in every direction. They passed drawing rooms and sitting rooms, old-school parlors and dining rooms. This place seemed sleekly immense, and it must've taken years of living there for Rachel to know where they were headed.

  They finally came to a door, and Rachel opened it making sure to hold it so Clara could scamper through. By then, the cowgirl found herself drained and tired. Moving through the corridors on her hands and knees required more energy and strength than she expected. At the same time, Clara still felt the fatigue from her time with Eric.

  "Are you hungry?"

  Clara glanced up at her Master’s sister, unsure about whether or not she should reveal another weakness. Finally she decided to tell the truth, "Yes.” She didn’t say any more.

  The younger woman popped her hands, tugged the leash again, and strolled farther into the field. As Clara crawled across the grass, she couldn't understand why there are there. A couple hundred yards to her right, the bright red barn sat there. Then farther up ahead there were the trees and woods. So where are they headed? What was the point?