Human Animals

by Kimmy Estrada

  "Sometimes, I'm not going to be able to milk you. You know, I can be a very busy man. I might be busy at work, or maybe I'll have a date. Of course, she would probably need to know about you. What you think about that? If I meet another girl, should I show you off to her? She would be able to see just how kind I am to animals."

  "I'm not an animal."

  "Moo for me.”

  “Mooooooo!”

  "You sound like an animal to me," he said.

  I gritted my teeth, knowing full well that I couldn't respond. No matter what I said, he would twist my words. No matter how I tried to defend myself, Eric would make it abundantly clear that I was just a pet, soon to be domesticated.

  "That's right," he said, patting me on the head. "Now, as I was saying before. They're going to be times when I'm not available to milk you myself. I could have a servant do it, but I have something better in mind. Jessica, I want to show you something very special. This is going to be a lot of fun."

  He left the barn, and when he came back, he pushed some kind of machine. I saw the tubes, the wheels, and the battery. There were also several large, transparent containers. I didn't know what this was. I didn't wish to know either.

  "This is a pumping machine. I'm going to use it to milk you automatically."

  "No, can't I just do it myself?" I asked, realizing just how foolish I sounded once those words left my lips.

  "Watch," he said, taking a pair of suction cups off of the machine. They were connected back to the pump by long tubes. He put them over my breasts, and he attached me to them. They were held on by rubber straps that pinched down into my skin. I did my best not to react; I pretended that this didn't really bother me.

  "Now, I just need to flick the switch. Are you ready?"

  "Eric, you don't have to do this. Eric, just give me another chance. Please, Eric—”

  "I used to love it when you said my name," he told me. Then he hit the switch, and the machine came to life, pumping, tugging, pinching and pulling. Right away, the milk started to spurt out into the tubes. It would work on my left nipple for a few seconds, then alternate to the right and back again.

  The milk started to flow in little ripples. Eventually, the streaks became thicker and heavier. Gasping, I tried not to enjoy this. After all, I was getting milked like some stupid animal, a dumb cow!

  Worse, I was enjoying it.

  "Eric, you don't have to do this to me!"

  "You're right. I don't have to do this. And you didn't need to use me. You didn't need to cheat on me. If you weren't interested in a relationship with me, then you never needed to lead me on. But you did that, and I'm doing this."

  I bowed my head down, doing my best to appear as contrite as possible. Obviously, I regretted my decisions because of what happened as a consequence. But do I feel bad for what I had done? If I searched my soul, would I have found true guilt and remorse for hurting this young man?

  Nope.

  Even so, I could fake it. I hung my head low, pretending that I felt some pang of conscience. The milking machine continued to work, which made this doubly difficult. Seriously, I wanted to moan, to moo with ecstasy.

  Instead, I controlled my features. I pretended that this didn't really matter because I felt so guilty. And then, I lifted my head, and I was going to look up at him with big soulful eyes. I would tell him that I was sorry, that he never deserved to be hurt. He was a good man, and he deserved someone who really loved him. I would apologize with big, pleading eyes. They would get wet, and I would make him feel bad for me.

  Before I could start on my soliloquy, he shoved a bit into my mouth, immediately silencing me!

  I glared at him, pouting like some angry girl. And yet, I couldn't do anything else. Or could I? Yes, I was up on the platform, and yes, I already had the suction cups attached to my udders, but what if I just fled?

  What if I just removed myself from that platform?

  Decision made, I turned away, and I started to move, ambulating on my elbows and knees. I scampered as fast as I could, only Eric saw what I was going to do. He grabbed me by the back of my neck, forcing my head down. Then, I spotted them, a set of restraints. There were four of them, each one heavy duty leather.

  I gasped, shaking my head.

  No, he couldn't do it! He couldn't strap me down!

  Those angry, muffled protests meant nothing against what my ex-boyfriend could do to me. He strapped me down, looping them along my limbs. Before I knew it, I was buckled in place, absolutely stuck. I threw my neck from left to right and back again, thrashing. I grunted and growled, every noise muffled by the bit waiting between my lips.

  "Just let the machine do its job," he said. He grabbed one of my pigtails, pulling my head back. My eyes were wide with incandescent anger. He just patted my forehead, making this all seem like another game.

  He patted me on the head, and then he stepped back.

  At first, I thought Eric was going to leave me alone with that machine. Yes, it kept pumping, sucking and pulling on my nipples. But as I had struggled, I forced the bells jingle and jangle. In turn, every one of those sounds made me horny.

  "Interesting," he said. "I wondered if your excitement would make you produce more. I guess we know the answer now. But we should probably be certain, for the sake of science."

  My ex-boyfriend was mocking me. He could and I couldn't do anything but stare into the ground.

  Eric came up behind me, and my legs were spread. Down on my hands and knees, I couldn't defend myself. My crevice was open and waiting, glistening, my lips engorged and ready for any sort of attention.

  Shutting my eyes, I silently hoped that he wouldn't do anything. I kept begging the universe for a few more minutes of relative peace.

  After all, I hated the fact that Eric wasn’t the only one to touch me, the only one to use me, the only one to take me, to claim me as though I really was just a piece of chattel to be traded around.

  And then, my breath caught in my lungs because he plunged his fingertips into my pussy. He rubbed my clitoris. Oh, I was so wet! I had no idea that I was so hot.

  He forced his fingers in, deeper and deeper. Then he pulled them back out, thrusting and almost withdrawing, thrusting in and almost withdrawing. Every little hint of movement and every bit of friction pushed me higher and higher.

  "I think I'm going to have someone make a machine for you. There could be a nice dildo right here, and it's going to fuck you for hours on end. While that's happening, I want to see what you can produce for me. I want to see just how fertile and productive I can make you."

  Grimacing, I whimpered, moaning. I couldn't tell if the sound came from my arousal or my humiliation. Either way, Eric didn't care. He kept going, rubbing me, teasing me, taunting me to new heights.

  Pretty soon, I climaxed!

  I didn't know how much more of this I could endure.

  He pulled his fingers back, he wiped his hand off on my hair, and then he stepped back. Because I couldn't turn around, I had no idea whether or not my ex-boyfriend left me alone with the machine working to continue to watch. All I could know for certain was that the machine kept pulling at my breasts, suckling with mechanistic determination.

  At some point, he turned off the machine.

  I couldn't tell you when that happened. I couldn't even try to guess how long I spent with that device. The minutes blurred together. More importantly, I could remember my head drooping, my eyelids getting heavy. It took so much effort to try to struggle. Before long, I simply lost the energy.

  On and on, that machine worked. It showed me just how exhausted I could become.

  Eric released me from my restraints, he pulled on my leash, silently guiding me over toward a trough. Freshly cut grass clippings waited for me. I bowed my head down, and I started eating. I chewed and swallowed without any kind of thought. At that point, I really did feel like a dumb animal.

  Although I stared straight ahead and although I could look around, my brain didn't reall
y register what was going on.

  After I ate, I had something to drink. He had another trough filled with cool, clean water. I put my lips down, and I was about to start slurping, but Eric smacked my ass. "Cows don't have lips," he told me.

  Somewhere deep down, I made the calculations without even being aware of it. I began to lap up the water like an animal. I only got a few drops with every flick of my tongue, but the exhaustion kept me from caring.

  Finally, he brought me back to my stall, he closed the door, and he latched it shut. "You did well today," Eric told me. "Tomorrow, I'm sure you'll do even better."

  When I heard the sounds of his footsteps begin to recede, I didn't even contemplate escape. No, I crawled over to the side of my stall, I fell down, and I relaxed, enjoying the warmth of my body as it soaked into the pile of hay where I slept.

  Dreams washed over me.

  I found myself on my hands and knees, of course. Granted, this time, I didn't have the binding leathers holding my arms or legs in place. In theory, I could stand up. But I would never do that. Thoroughly trained, I knew my place. I belonged down here, below my Master’s knees.

  My stomach was full of delicious grass as I waited for the stall door to open. I stared straight ahead, feeling a little bit like an eager pet, just waiting for my Master. He would come, he would play with me, and it would feel so good! I couldn't wait!

  The stall door finally opened, and there was Eric.

  "Is my girl cow ready to serve me? Is she ready to be a good girl who will do whatever I say?"

  I opened my mouth, ready to do whatever he desired. My mind and body both belonged to this man. I opened my lips, and I looked up at him. "Mooooo!” At the same time, I smiled happily.

  "There is my good girl. There's my dumb girl."

  I didn't take those words as an insult. On the contrary, they were simply true. I belonged to him. I could never be as smart or strong as my Master. So when he patted me on the head, I didn't feel patronized. Rather, I felt valued.

  Right away, his hand reached for the fly of his jeans. He pulled the zipper, he took out his erect cock. Immediately, I licked my lips, staring up at him with big, hopeful eyes. Would he allow me to do this? Would he allow me the privilege of being his service animal?

  "Before I milk you, you are going to have to earn it," he said to me.

  I nodded my head, dumbly eager to accept whatever decision he gave me. All the while, I kept my eyes locked on his erection. I wished to serve him, to make him feel good. It was my job to satisfy this man. He owned me, after all. He fed me, he took care of me, and he domesticated me.

  There were so many reasons for me to be grateful!

  "Come on," he said, waving me over with his hand.

  I crawled forward, only getting up when I was close enough to start sucking his cock.

  I looked at him, silently waiting for permission. "Go ahead," he told me.

  I braced my knuckles down against the dirty, barn floor. At the same time, I leaned in, and I started to lick. I ran the tip of my tongue over his scrotum, toward the base of the shaft. From there, I started to lick.

  This was what he enjoyed. I knew my Master’s body well. He had trained me thoroughly, making sure that I understood exactly what would be expected of me. This was just the beginning. So I licked him like he was an ice cream cone, savoring the feel, the solidity, the rigidity, and the heat of his hardness.

  It felt so good, having a purpose. Before my Master took me, I had been so lost, doing my best to think for myself. I always assumed that happiness would be finding a guy—someone rich—and manipulating him into giving me everything I desired.

  No, happiness was service. Happiness was domestication.

  He grabbed onto one of my pigtails, pulling my head forward. I followed the momentum of his grip, opening my mouth and taking him between my lips. I started to lick gently, working my tongue along his erection all the while.

  "Should I give you a treat? Should I allow you to swallow today?"

  I didn't answer. I couldn't. Besides, it wasn't like my vote mattered. I didn't even think of expressing an opinion. Instead, I looked up at him with vacant, dumb eyes.

  My Master used my pigtails, forcing my head forward and back. He treated my mouth like a sex toy, a hole to be used. But I gave him pleasure. I could tell from that lascivious smile on his face. Nothing else had to matter. Only my Master’s pleasure meant anything.

  "No," he said, putting his palm on my forehead and pushing me back. "I'm going to use you. Get down on your hands and knees like a good cow."

  Instantly, I obeyed, assuming the position. I spread my legs, wondering what he was going to do. His shaft was already wet with my saliva when he put his hands on his hips, and he came forward. But he wasn't going to fuck my pussy; no, he aimed for my ass.

  He pushed in slowly, and I did my best to relax, to accept every inch of his girth. I was so tight around his member. He groaned, savoring the feel of my body. At moments like this, I felt my happiest. After all, I was giving my Master everything I had.

  And I was just a dumb cow. This was my purpose. This was why he trained me. This was why he taught me how to be a good farm animal for him.

  He pumped me, working me.

  Just having him so close, knowing that I was doing a good job was enough to make me wet. It was enough to make me ache in my breasts.

  "You want me to milk you?"

  "Moooooo!” I no longer thought about using human words. There was only one sound I could make, one desperate, bleating noise. Of course, my Master understood exactly what I meant. He was so smart!

  He pulled out, just before he could climax. Then he shoved me down onto my back, he came up between my legs, thrusting deep into my crevice.

  Inhaling and exhaling, I could only moan, on the verge of my own orgasm as he started to pump me, thrusting deep into my wet slit. Not only that, his lips came down, and he clamped his mouth tight around one of my nipples. He started to suck, savoring the milk that flowed into his mouth. He swallowed it down, taking everything I had from me.

  Arching my back, I moaned—I mooed with ecstasy like an obedient cow. My Master was using me, and nothing else had any meaning.

  My eyes snapped open, and I found myself on another platform, only this time I wasn't in some dirty barn.

  My arms and legs were strapped down under heavy leather restraints. I glanced down at them, wondering how Eric or his employees had managed to move me without waking me. Some kind of sedative?

  Or maybe it had to do with the collar or the cow bell dangling from her neck. I hated the knowledge of the possibility, but maybe, just maybe this thing really was magical, it really could control my body, and he just whispered something into my ear about how I needed to stay asleep.

  Either way, I was naked. As I took stock of my body, I realized that I was also clean. Someone had washed me. My hair was damp, and I smelled better. Like jasmine. I lowered my head, I was able to glance between my legs, and I saw that my pussy had been shaved. Clearly, Eric had something important planned. But what?

  Turning my head, I scanned the rest of the room. I found myself on a platform made of dark wood. The rest of the space seemed like some kind of gallery. There were paintings on the walls, all of which I was certain were real. A couple of sculptures had been placed neatly on shelves.

  And here I was, in the middle of the room, not sure what I should do.

  Honestly, it seemed more difficult push thoughts through my head. Every time I tried to think of some kind of strategy, my head started to hurt. Maybe thinking was becoming painful. Maybe it was going to become too much trouble.

  Scrunching my eyes shut for a second, I shook my head. No. I was always going to have to think. I was always going to have to be able to come up with strategies and tactics. After all, I couldn't just allow Eric to turn me into a dumb cow.

  That dream remained vivid, bright within my memory. Not only that, I realized that thinking about it turned me on.
>
  Was it possible that some part of me actually wanted to be a cow slave, a pet girl bound to my ex-boyfriend's will?

  Close to hyperventilating, I needed to think clearly. Although I was tempted to simply embrace my anger and throw a tantrum, I knew full well that it wouldn't do any good.

  Before I could come up with anything, the double doors into the gallery opened, and in sauntered Eric. I opened my mouth, thinking that I would have another chance to talk to him. Only his footsteps weren't the only ones echoing in this room.

  Behind him, a beautiful girl followed. Unlike me, she had dark brown hair that was pulled back into a neatly braided ponytail. She also had on a black dress with white trim. She looked lovely, like some modern princess.

  "This is my ex-girlfriend," Eric spoke to his companion. "She's the one who cheated on me during my party."

  "I see," said the girl.

  Yes, my natural talents usually suited me best when it came to manipulating men, but I've been able to play girls in the past as well. During high school, I had a lot of female friends. I knew how to make them do what I wished.

  I studied this girl.

  Even as my cheeks burned bright pink with embarrassment for my position, I didn't speak right away. I needed more information. Judging from her clothing, her stance, and her poise, she had to be wealthy. She was probably confident as well, likely smart.

  Yes, she had lots of advantages, but everyone could be manipulated.

  It was only a matter of finding the right leverage.

  "Jessica, I want you to meet my new girlfriend, Monique. Monique is a rather singular individual. In fact, she has a background in anthropology and archaeology."

  I narrowed my eyes, uncomprehending. Why would I care about her studies? What would they possibly mean to me?

  Eric approached, taking one stride after another in my direction. He reached down, sliding his fingertips along the curve of my scalp. Then he grabbed onto one of my pigtails, turning my head so that I had to look up into his face. "Who do you think found the cow bell?”

  All of a sudden, it sank in.