Clara didn't know what to say, especially because she didn't know what to think. The last day and a half had been a flurry of activity and new experiences. She never would've agreed to be Eric's sex slaves if she had known how things would've gone, yet he felt the twinge of arousal when she thought of how he used her.
Clara couldn't help it. There were some parts of her body that she simply couldn't control. She sighed and said, "I liked my life.”
"Did you? Did you really?"
The cowgirl didn't have an answer, at least not one that felt satisfying. Clara went quiet as Rachel continued bathing the little moocow. Her legs, arms, abdomen, and especially that special spot between her legs, were all thoroughly washed. For once, Rachel didn't torment the human pet.
Instead, she washed the spot between Clara's legs vigorously and in such a way to let the little cowgirl moan and blush as she climaxed one, two, three times. With the bath over, Clara climbed out of the tub and got on her hands and knees. With a big fluffy towel, Rachel dried the girl off.
Then Rachel leashed Clara again and walked her back to her room. The climaxes from the bath came back to Clara when she realized something. She didn't want to ask, but she didn't do it right then, she would be locked in her cage for the rest of the night.
This was her only chance.
Peeking back up at her captor with a shy grimace, Clara asked, "I, uh, I need to be milked.”
"Need?" Rachel asked, raising one eyebrow.
Clara swallowed back her trepidation, "Okay, I would like to be milked."
"Then just ask, silly."
Part of Clara raged against the idea. Did Rachel really think she would submit to this? That she would really ask to be milked? Bristling with frustration, Clara glanced back up at Rachel and realized that that was exactly what this girl believed. Only seconds before, they talked his friends.
Now it was clear. Rachel didn't want Clara as a friend. She wanted her as a pet, a slave, and a plaything. Gritting her teeth, Clara asked with her head bowed, "Please, would you milk me? My breasts are really full.”
“They aren’t breasts, silly,” Rachel corrected. "They’re udders.”
Rachel walked Clara over to the cage, tied the girl’s leash to one of the bars, and went back to one of the cabinets for the milk pump. “Is this what you’d like?” Rachel taunted. “Does the little cow need me to milk her? Are you all full of milk?”
“Yes,” Clara said as the sting of embarrassment lashed at her back. Clara couldn’t help it. She should have been able to zone out or grown a thicker defense, yet she was about to get milked again. This girl would lay her out and pump her breasts. The truth of her future made Clara bite down.
“Good girl,” Rachel said and patted Clara on her head. "On your back."
Now that she knew she was about to be drained, Clara hustled down on her back. She spread her arms and legs. Nibbling her lower lip, Clara watched as Rachel pulled out the cups and Latham over Claris swollen breasts. Her tits had become these perfect spheres perking up from her chest.
Rachel secured the cups then turn on the pump.
Instantly, Clara felt her body respond. The suction started to pull the dribbles of lactate from her ducts. Within seconds, the tubes were filled streams of milk. Clara closed her eyes and savored the sensation along with machine’s steady hum.
It went on for quite a while. Clara couldn't actually tell how long. A sense of warm contentment spread through her. It was like nothing else she ever experienced. Somehow, these milking sessions had morphed into something special, something almost magical. And when it finished, she couldn't help but feel a sense of loss and disappointment.
"You're free tomorrow,” Rachel said. "But for right now, you get in your cage."
Again, Clara struggles against her sense of science and resistance. Her perception of the world had become erratic. In one moment she could look at Rachel answer owner and feel content with this. In other instances, Clara couldn't see the young woman as anything but an annoying whelp that never, ever should have had this kind of power over her.
Unfortunately for Clara, her perceptions were entirely irrelevant. Nothing she did or felt could change the fact that she been caged. The front gate came down, Rachel locked it, and then she left the little cowgirl with her thoughts.
That night, Clara didn't really sleep a lot. She didn't really feel as if she needed it.
When sunlight started to stream through the window, Clara started to crawl back and forth in her cage. She started to wonder when Eric would come for her and what he might require of her on this last day.
"Hi there," he said with a grin after stepping back into her room. "Are you ready for some more training? Today is going to be a very big day for you."
Eyes narrowing, Clara made herself ask the obvious question, "What's happening today?" He looked too happy, too amused. Clearly, he had something planned for her and Clara was fairly certain she wasn't going to like it.
"Why ruin the surprise?" He untied her leash, opened the cage, and waved for her to crawl out. Clara didn't bother asking or trying to stand. He wanted her subjugated like always. From his perspective, this was where she belonged.
Eric took her leash and let her back outside. He walked her over to the grazing field in order to her to eat. She had done this once before, so it shouldn't of been a big deal. But something inside of her tightened, insisting she defied him. Maybe she'd simply reached her final point. A woman like Clara could only take so much. She could only debase herself to a certain extent. In any case, she looked up at him and said no.
It felt good. It felt very good to defy him again and reassert herself as an independent young woman, not his pet and definitely not his cow.
Except she forgot about something very important. "Shock." The instant her collar picked up on those sounds from his voice, it sent a jolt of electricity down the back of her neck and into the pain receptors throughout her body. The shocks done, she gasped, and bowed her head.
Clara dipped her chin down, but only for a heartbeat. She sprang back up and glared at him, determined to defy him. Their time was almost over, she thought. She had submitted herself to his whims so many times, it almost seemed natural.
No more.
She was not going to let him dominate her so thoroughly. In these last few minutes and hours, Clara would make him understand. He couldn’t beat her. His sister couldn’t defeat her either. Clara was too strong to become a pet or chattel.
“You’re so cute,” he said and smirked down at her. Clara peeked over her shoulder at the tree line. She could have tried to run, but a few key words would have had her back on her stomach. It was better to wait with him, to make it clear to this man that he couldn’t actually defeat her. “But this is just a last struggle for you.”
“No. I’m stronger.”
“You’re desperate,” he said. Then he crouched down and ran his fingers through her hair. The pads of his fingertips felt good against her scalp, not that she would ever admit it to him. "Somewhere deep down in one of those inner nooks or crannies, you're starting to realize that I have you. You're starting to worry that this might last longer than the agreed-upon weekend. It might." Eric's eyes crinkled with amusement and the prospect of getting to keep her at his feet, collared and enslaved.
No, she thought to herself again and again and again. Clara was not going to do this to her, and she said it aloud, "We’re almost done. When my time is over, you’re going to take this collar off of me.”
“Shock.” She flinched. “Really?” he asked. “Well then, I should enjoy the time I have left.” He whispered into her ear again, “Shock. Shock. Shock.” The storm of electricity made her gasp, then whimper as she fell back onto her side. Even after the electrical shocks dissipated, Clara twitched once or twice.
Reminding herself to stay strong, the cowgirl climbed back onto her hands and knees. She glowered at him until he ordered her to eat. Then she obeyed. Clara liked to think that she had made her
point. He hadn’t trained her completely, nor would he.
“Eat, cow.”
Clara dipped her mouth down, and she started to rip out pieces of grass. The drug’s effect kicked back in, allowing her digest the vegetation. It also made the blades of green taste good, a fact Clara tried not to dwell on.
He stood over her, arms crossed, and watched as she ate. He had done to this to her. The thought made him hard. He should have gotten bored over the long minutes she ate, chewed, and swallowed, but he examined the curves of her naked body. Aside from her collar and the leash that led back to his hand, she was completely naked and absolutely vulnerable. Before long, he would make her pet forever.
Eric hardened some more at the idea of popping her illusions.
“I’m going to milk you.”
“Alright,” she said and tried to sound bored, as though the experience meant nothing to her. He tugged on her leash, and she scampered after him.
“You should like this,” he said, teasing her. “It’ll be a new opportunity for you. You’ve already done so well as my cow. I think this’ll make it clear where you really belong.” Clara swallowed at his confidence. He sounded sincere, as though he really believed it.
What if he was right?
What if he managed to make her believe she deserved or wanted to be his collared animal forever? Clara shook her head of the notion. She clung to her own desires and refused to think about how it would feel.
He took her to a different part of the barn. Before, she had been in a largely empty chamber with a bit of hair, stools, and other odds and ends. This second room had a bed. It looked like a chamber for an actual person.
Except one piece of equipment stuck out. Clara spotted it, and once her eyes lit on the device, she couldn’t look away.
“This is a new kind of milking machine,” he told her. Eric strode over to the device. Clara would have remained there, looking up but the leash forced her ahead, closer to the machine.
He started to explain, but his words had become largely unnecessary. The machine appeared self-explanatory. She would get up on her knees. She would place her legs over a set of metal slats where he would strap her into place. Her arms would be spread and lowered down onto two other bars, again equipped with tight bits of leather. Finally, the two suction cups would fit over her breasts. They would pump and milk her, draining her udders of every single drop.
But there was something else, something Clara hadn’t wanted to think about. She didn’t want to notice it, as if simply ignoring the silicone appendage could make it disappear from existence.
This milking machine was equipped with a dildo. “It looks like you’ve figured out how this works.”
“No. Please.”
Eric grabbed her wrist and pulled her up to her knees. She tried to move back, but he kept a firm grip on his property. He held her tight with one hand, and then spanked her bottom with the other. This kind of pain hurt less than the shock collar, but it amplified her shame. Clara almost wished he would just shock her.
But no, he pulled her back down across his lap. He spanked her five, ten, twenty times. Each blow landed hard, and the clapped sound burst through her consciousness, a ringing reminder of how he controlled her. Defiance meant nothing. She had to obey because he had her. Eric had become her Master.
“Please, stop!” she begged, her eyes wet as she wiggled and struggled to get off his lap. He held her down and kept her across his knees as he smacked her bright red bottom over and over. She was wet with desire, but she couldn’t think about it as the pain mixed into pleasure, forcing some part of her to enjoy this. “Please, Master! Stop! I’ll do it! Okay! I’ll be a good cow!”
“That’s right,” he said and stopped only to caress her abused little butt. “You’ll be whatever I want.” His fingers stopped with one question, “Why?”
Clara blinked, unsure of what her owner wished to hear. Her defiance had crumbled against the electric onslaught. The spankings on served to emphasize her powerlessness. In less than five minutes, her grand show of resistance broke down into dusty regret.
“Why?” he repeated, raised his hand, and smacked the curve of her buttocks again. He struck both cheeks, making her flinch each time. When he raised his hand again, she tensed up, but he resumed the caresses.
“Because you’re my Master.”
“And how long will I be your Master?”
Clara licked her lips, fully aware of what he wanted to hear. More specifically, she understood what he didn’t want to hear. She closed her eyes and told the truth, “I don’t know.” She couldn’t be certain how long this would last. Part of her demanded it stop right there. Damn the consequences, she could get a lawyer. Another part, the rational part of her, said that she only had to hold out for a little while longer, then he had to let her go.
Yet a third slice of her psyche wondered how it would feel to embrace captivity. Like Rachel said, she could give up the trappings of freedom. No taxes. No stupid politics at work. No stress about politics or anything like that. Instead, she could become a creature of sensation. Eat, sleep, sex, milk. Her life would simplify perfectly.
Clara couldn’t deny the appeal.
No. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t, she thought, shaking her head as though the physical motion might help her. But when Eric stared down into her eyes, she found herself transfixed by the warmth and power of his possessiveness.
“That’s right,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t know. Because nothing has been decided. I could keep you.”
Clara nodded in spite of the shivers running down her back.
“Who’s my slave?”
“I am.”
“Who’s my cow?”
Clara hated the taste of her answer, yet she gave it anyway, “I am. I’m your cow.”
“Good girl. Because you’re going to get milked, then I’m going take you,” he said, took her by the arm, and pulled her over to the machine. With her butt still stinging from the spankings, Clara got down on her knees. She fit right up against the machine. He took her arms and shoved them down into their requisite spaces as well. He pulled the leather strips over her arms and legs, and then engaged the clasps.
He had her.
Eric stroked her cheek for a moment before pulling out a tube of lubricant and sliding it all over the dildo. “This will start out slowly. It’ll get your nice and hot so you can be milked to the greatest effect. We wouldn’t want to let any of that fine moo juice to go to waste now, would we?”
“No, Master.”
“No,” he said and patted her on the head. He treated her like a pet, and right then, she definitely felt like a farm animal. The machine’s twin suction cups moved forward with mechanical determination. They hooked onto her breasts.
Clara swallowed as she felt the lower device start to move. The dildo shifted forward, sliding outward until it pressed into the space between her legs. It teased her with an automated rhythm, moving in, and then backing out, then going in a little further. It filled her up with a machine’s instance and determination. It wouldn’t brook any protests, nor would it hesitate as she whimpered through the sensation.
Behind her, Eric grabbed her butt with both of his hands. He moved lower, “I’m going to watch you as you’re milked. And when this machine is done with you, I’m going to take you all over again. What do you think of that? Does the idea of getting used by a machine, then your owner, does that turn you on?”
Clara wanted to lie, but she couldn’t. The dildo slipped deeper inside of her. A flood of yearning filled her as the dildo worked her. “Yes,” she finally said because waiting would have only delayed the inevitable. She couldn’t lie to him, not Eric, her Master.
He flicked a switch and the dildo moved faster. It started to pound her, running forward and retreating back. It glistened with her excitement, but it didn’t go quite fast enough for her to come.
“Are you going to be a good slave?”
“Yes!” sh
e gasped.
“Who owns you?”
“You!” she said as the silicone cylinder plowed deeper, opening her slit and teasing her clitoris. Still, she wasn’t ready to come. Her body wasn’t quite there. She had never had anything like this inside of her, nor had she ever been sexed by a machine, yet it wasn’t good enough. She turned her head and met Eric’s gaze.
She wouldn’t be allowed to orgasm until he was inside of her. She realized it right then even as she felt the revelation pump additional yearning throughout her body. Her mouth went dry as her arousal reached new heights. The pumps kept working, suckling the milk from her nipples. She didn’t know how much more they could extract.
Clara should have been exhausted, but the passionate desire for Eric’s body kept her energized. Frustration prevented any sort of fatigue from weighing her down.
“Interesting. Would you be willing to sign a contract to that effect?”
Clara’s eyes widened, “Contract?” She barely got those two syllables out. Working her mouth was made exponentially more difficult by the dildo’s artificial movements. She was almost dripping with desire, but still she couldn’t shift her position enough to get what she needed. She started to strain against her straps, but just like before, she had no hope of getting away.
“That’s right.” He strolled over to one of the cabinet drawers, rolled it open, and pulled out a set of papers. “This document is legally binding. If you sign it, you will give me your power of attorney as well as custody over you. Effectively, you will belong to me.”
Clara believed him. There was no question in her mind about whether or not he could do something like that. At the same time, she started to shake her head. She couldn’t give herself over to him so easily, could she?
Now His Milk Cow (A Lactation Fantasy) Page 7
