Now His Milk Cow (A Lactation Fantasy) (9 page)

Rachel walked the cowgirl through the house, but she took her to the washroom a few doors down from her room. There, Rachel ordered Clara into the tub. Silent, she obeyed, too defeated to really think.

Some part of her kept thinking the last few minutes had to be some sort of dream. It couldn’t have been real. She wasn’t just milked. Two men didn’t just suckle her breasts. They hadn’t held her up naked as an example of how easily females could be turned into human animals.

The water came on, a hot jet that helped relax Clara’s sore muscles. The forced orgasm made her shiver with remembered pleasure and humiliation. Since coming to the estate, she had grown completely used to Rachel. The younger woman had become a fixture in Clara’s psyche, as though it were natural for her to see Clara naked, to order her about, to use her and play with her like a toy.

Rachel took some soap, built up a thick lather, and washed off Clara, one part at a time. She started with the girl’s back, then worked over her swollen breasts. Although she had been milked only minutes before, she had already started to enlarge. It might be a couple hours, but before too long, Clara would need to be milked again.

“You’re starting to like it, aren’t you?” asked Eric’s sister.

Clara wanted to pretend she didn’t know what the other girl meant, yet lying seemed like a bad idea. Besides, it had been a while since anyone had spoken to her like a thinking woman. She couldn’t let the opportunity pass.

“I’m not sure.”

“I think you like this. I think you’re starting to feel that you belong on your hands and knees, ready to be used and milked.”

“No,” Clara tried to say. Her voice wavered, and even she couldn’t believe what she said. “I don’t like this. I don’t.”  Clara couldn’t tell who she wanted to convince, Rachel or herself.

Rachel gathered up some more lather and rubbed it down Clara’s neck, shoulders, biceps, and forearms. She had soft hands and worked gently, helping the little cowgirl relax. This felt really nice, which only gave Clara more time to think about the last day and a half.

Did she like it?

“What would you do if my brother offered you the chance to live here?”

“You’d want me to be a cow.”

“That’s right,” Rachel confirmed without blinking. She made it sound as though this sort of arrangement could be completely natural, if not downright rational. "You could be a happy little moo cow. Think about it. Do you really like the stress of being an actual person? Do you like dealing with taxes and work in stupid people? Wouldn't it just be easier to stay here as a pet? I've seen how much you like it. You can't deny that part."

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.