The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bobbin made her way to the old barn, whistling a slow, lilting tune. She was in an excellent mood. Master was off dealing with some new livestock—a couple of delicious slime girls whom Bobbin had suggested putting to work in the cranberry bog—and she had been the only one around this morning to help their dear werewolf through the loneliness. There were few experiences quite like dominating a tamed werewolf in heat.

Of course, in all her excitement to toy with the woman, she had sort of forgotten to see to her own needs. She hoped to amend this little oversight now.

The interior of the Ambrosia Ranch barn was, as ever, tidy—Bobbin spent a lot of time here, after all, and house fey were naturally tidy creatures. She leaned over and fixed a fallen rake as she made her way toward the stall on the far side of the barn.

The lithe hob stopped when she came to the stall entrance, leaning over to peer inside.

Unlike the other stalls in this barn, this stall was blanketed with soft, bright green grass. A massive armchair of billowing blue silks rested in the stall’s center, and atop the chair lounged a gorgeous fey woman Bobbin knew quite well.

The silver-haired holstaur smiled back, eyes heavy-lidded and coy. “Well, hello, Bobbin.” She had two curved bull horns atop her head. Her breasts were unspeakably massive, and they immediately drew Bobbin’s eyes like magnets. They were just-so-slightly flushed, tastefully (and ineffectively) concealed behind a length of lacework. A large silver cowbell hung around her neck, nestled in the very edges of her cleavage. She gave a knowing smile. “Are you here to milk me?” Her fingers played over one of her nipples, causing it to trickle a tiny droplet of holstaur milk.

Bobbin unconsciously licked her lips. She took a deep breath—thoughtlessly breathing in the sweet, slightly spicy aroma of the milk—and tried to steady herself. “Hello, Laca. No, not today.”

“Oh, really?” The way Laca said it made her disbelief quite evident, and Bobbin shivered slightly, knowing how easily that ‘no’ could become a ‘yes’.

A ‘soon’, maybe. After all, Bobbin rationalized, she would have to milk the holstaur soon enough anyways. Master would no doubt appreciate her doing the work for him. Unlike Bobbin, the Ranch’s human master always had so much trouble resisting Laca’s unique charms, and the milk had such an effect on him.

“U-um...” Bobbin cleared her throat and smiled. “Well, not now, anyways. I actually came because I had something I wanted to talk to you about, Laca. Jill’s been acting oddly.”

“Oh.” Laca started pinching her nipples, giving a soft wispy moan. “And how is the dear, sweet stockgirl?”

“She’s...” Bobbin carefully kept her gaze trained on Laca’s big, brown eyes. As horny as she was, all it would take was one look at Laca’s udders to draw her in like a fish on a line. “She’s fine, Laca. But she’s seemed... distracted today. I know she milked you yesterday.”

“Jealous?” Laca purred. The holstaur squeezed her left breast.

“A little,” Bobbin admitted with a grin. “You know I do love playing with you.”

“Is that what you call it?”

She’s in a weird mood today. Usually the holstaur could sense when Bobbin was in the domme mode, and she always readily switched for her. Apparently she’d decided she wanted to play resistant today. Well, Bobbin could play along. “Well, I know your slutknockers are what I’m really playing with. But I think we both know they’re the ones thinking for your dumb cow brain when I start touching them.” She winked. “Anyways, I really wanted to know about...”

Laca traced a finger across her nipple and brought it up to her lips, now dripping with milk. Bobbin trailed off as Laca slowly started to suck the finger clean. She watched as the holstaur savored her own milk, feeling a growing familiar need building in her.

Her mouth was growing dry. That was always the first sign that she would soon have her lips locked firmly onto one of Laca’s nipples, suckling like a desert wanderer who’d just reached an oasis.

But damn it, she still had things she needed to talk about. “Th-the, um...” She thought frantically. What had she wanted to discuss, again? Milk. Jill had been milking Laca. Milking. milk. Sweet , spicy milk that made her head heavy and tingly, made her so, so horny... not that she wasn’t horny already...

“Aw.” Laca took her finger out, a sly smile on her perfect features. “Are we feeling thirsty?” she cooed, as she had done so many times over the years.

And it always had the same effect. Bobbin’s tongue fumbled. “Ye...” She cut herself off, biting her lip. “I, um... I need to...” Her mind scattered as a driblet of milk slipped down Laca’s lip, only to be licked up. Why was she here, again?’

“Milk me?” Laca asked sweetly. Her eyelashes fluttered.

Bobbin blinked. Oh. Oh, yes.

It finally clicked into place. Bobbin... needed to milk Laca. It would make it so much easier to concentrate when she didn’t have that task hanging over her head. Work before pleasure. Work before pleasure.

“Uh-huh,” she said vacantly, making her way over. She fumbled around at her feet, eyes not leaving Laca’s swelling breasts, and felt for the bucket. “Mmmilk...”

“Milk,” Laca agreed smugly.

Bobbin knew she was giving in too easily, but she didn’t care. She’d been planning on doing this anyways. She reached forward, taking a deep breath to clear her head, and grasped Laca’s firm right tit. It was soft and yielding, but solid, and Bobbin knew all too well how easy it was to drift to sleep with her head resting between these.

Confirming that the bucket’s enchantment was active, she reached forward with her other hand and gently tickled Laca’s nipple.

“Ooh!” Despite knowing it was coming, Laca’s lips half-opened in pleasure and relief as the milk spurted out and guided itself into the pail. She leaned back, eyes closing. “Good girl. Good girl!”

This was what holstaurs lived for, Bobbin knew. A holstaur longed for one thing: A mouth at her teat, sucking away. They were generous lovers in that regard. But humans—and some fey—could be affected in powerful, dangerous ways by that milk. Holstaurs rarely cared about such things, though, as long as the suckling continued.

Bobbin stared numbly at the breast as she continued to tickle, drawing more and more pleasured moans out of Laca. She could watch this all day. But as much as she longed to—as much as she longed to tackle the holstaur and suckle until her fellow fey was mooing like a prized heifer—she was starting to remember why she was here.

“Jill,” she said softly, reaching over to tickle the other breast. Laca’s squeals hit a separate octave. For a moment, Bobbin relished the control, even though she was already feeling the temptation to just lean in and submit to suckling hours bliss from Laca’s teat. “Why is Jill staying in her room?”

“Oh...” Laca licked her lips. “She’s...” She wriggled in pleasured agony as Bobbin’s tickling drew more and more pleasure and milk from her fertile body. “She’s—a good girl!” The statement had the undertone of something wrenched from her. Bobbin initially grinned, proud of how effortlessly she could control this livestock.

Then the words sank in, and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, really?”

“Yes...” Laca’s eyes opened partway, and she stared weakly up at Bobbin. “It’s s-so hard for a poor dear like her to resist someone like me and my ‘slutknockers’. Aah! She just... can’t help herself... and wh-who can?”

“You dosed her.” Bobbin licked her lips. Gods, her mouth was bone-dry. She watched hungrily as the milk practically poured from Laca’s sweet, delectable body. Surely a few sips couldn’t hurt? “You got her to suckle and you... took advantage.”

“Oh, baby...” Laca giggled, then bit her lip as another gleam of pleasure sparkled through her bedroom eyes. “She begged me for it. Begged to do as I willed. Who wouldn’t?”

Bobbin scowled, even as her fingers sped up the pace on Laca’s magnificent tits. Laca wasn’t yielding like she usually did—she was orgasming, yes, but she still seemed mostly in control of herself. She usually started begging around this time, as far as Bobbin could remember. “Very naughty, Laca.”

“Oh?” Laca batted her eyelashes. “Is Mommy naughty, Bobbi?” Her hand climbed up and gripped Bobbin’s wrist.

Despite herself, Bobbin flinched. “Hands off,” she mumbled.

“J-Jill couldn’t even help herself,” Laca cooed, slowly petting Bobbin’s hand. “One look at my breasts was all it took, baby. When someone gets so horny, so needy, so thirsty...oh, they’ll do whatever Mommy wants. Aah!” She started to tremble and shake as a long, powerful orgasm poured through her curvy body. Bobbin watched, biting her lip, as her breasts bounced and jiggled. “S-she—ooh, fuck, she couldn’t tear her eyes away!”

Bobbin’s lips parted slightly as she watched Laca’s breasts swing back and forth. Her whole mind felt... bouncy. Jiggly. She had never felt like this before. Or... had she? She had the strangest sense of deja vu, but it was so hard to concentrate on such things when she had to focus on tickling more and more wonderful, sweet, spicy milk out of Laca.

Laca stroked Bobbin’s hands fondly, as if she was somehow taking charge of her own pleasuring. “She didn’t even realize,” the holstaur murmured, “how obedient she really was for Mommy. She just kept milking me. And these ‘slutknockers’, as you call them, made her... such a little darling slut.”

“Mm...” Bobbin’s mouth was very, very dry. She gave a snort. “You are in a lot of trouble, Laca.” But even as she spoke, her tickling was beginning to give way to long, deliberate strokes, and her spirit seemed to soar as she felt that sweet, spicy, tingly milk streak past her fingertips.

This technique was not especially effective for getting milk out of Laca, but Laca always loved it. Bobbin wasn’t sure why she was focusing on Laca’s pleasure right now. It just came naturally.

Laca gave a little chuckle. “Call me Mommy, Bobbin.”

“What?” Bobbin was taken aback. For a moment, her eyes climbed to Laca’s big brown orbs, but they inevitably fell back down to the breasts. Laca’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. “That’s your domme name, Laca,” Bobbin said, smiling slightly. “You don’t call me Master all the time, so why would I call you Mommy now?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Laca said, with a smug smile, “but you want to, don’t you?”

“Eh. Not really.”

“It will feel so nice, baby. Such a sweet relief.”

Bobbin licked her lips. It took a few licks to wet them now. “I think you’re in over your head this morning, Laca.”

“But you want to.”

“I—”

“You know how sexy it always feels to call me Mommy, don’t you?” The holstaur giggled. “Just imagine how sexy it will feel to call me Mommy all the time, baby Bobbi. It’ll feel so good, Bobbi.”

“... it’s Bobbin.”

“Poor baby,” Laca cooed. “So thirsty.”

“I’m n...” Bobbi licked her lips, watching as milk spurted from Laca’s breasts into the pail.

“Does baby need a drink?” Laca squeezed Bobbi’s hand conspiratorially and winked at her. “Just a little suckle?”

“L-Laca—”

“Just a wittle suckle,” Laca repeated, her voice practically babytalk as she reached forward and placed a hand on the back of Bobbi’s head. Lost in the sight of Laca’s heaving breasts, Bobbi found herself being slowly guided towards the breasts. “Bobbi will feel so much better!”

“I...” Bobbi took a deep breath to steady herself. Despite that, her head swam with lust. Maybe... maybe a little suckle was a good idea. Her mouth was so dry. She couldn’t very well resist the holstaur when she was dehydrated, could she?

Something about that logic didn’t follow, and Bobbi frowned.

Then her frown melted away into bliss as her lips latched onto Laca’s left nipple and she began to drink.

Instantly, creamy pleasure flooded into her whole body, and her mind entered a blurred bliss. It was like she’d forgotten how to fly and only now remembered. Her eyes widened, and she started suckling harder, moaning.

“Good baby,” she heard Laca cooing, pressing her face harder against her breast. “Oh! Good, good Bobbi.”

She moaned in response. Every gulp of holstaur milk that flooded into her system only made her feel more awake, more alive, more horny. So, so much more horny. And she knew from experience it would only get worse. Only get better.

She started subconsciously humping the holstaur’s leg, whimpering.

And Mommy laughed. “You see now?” she asked, stroking Bobbi’s head. “You see what I mean? Helpless to resist.”

“Mm... mm-hm!” Bobbi couldn’t take it. She couldn’t handle it. Her mind was breaking down into softness, into weak, pliant putty for Mommy’s control. But she couldn’t stop, either.

“Oh, my dear, dear Bobbi...”

“MMMM!”

Bobbin trembled, even as her lips worked hungrily, filling her system and brain with sweet, spicy servitude.

She was in real trouble.

Laca’s fingers were dipping below, now, and Bobbin mewled as they started to stroke her clit—tickling her, teasing her. “Such a good girl,” the breasty fey cooed in her ear, stroking her hair with her other hand. Bobbin shook under these gentle, loving touches, feeling her adoration for Mommy growing stronger with every caress. “We’re being such a good girl for Mommy, aren’t we? Can you say that? ‘Mommy’?”

Bobbi struggled. She really did. And still the word slipped out. “Mmmy,” she slurred, unable to stop suckling even to answer a question. She heard Mommy laughing, and her cheeks reddened in humiliation and lust.

She had never been in control. Not once. Not since she’d set foot inside the stall.

It felt so, so good.

No! She screwed up her willpower, even as the touches on her pussy became more insistent, more unbearable. She thrashed, whimpering, but couldn’t bring herself to actually pull off.

“Naughty girl,” Mommy scolded, but she didn’t stop petting Bobbi’s head. “Hold still for me, or I won’t be able to make my little Bobbi feel so, soooo good, will I?”

Bobbi whined, but Mommy’s words were oozing into her brain and reducing her to butter in the holstaur’s soft, supple arms. No. She didn’t want to be naughty. She wanted to be good! Good for Mommy!

As her thrashings stilled, her head bumped against something metal. It gave a dull clinking sound.

The cowbell.

She could distantly recall it now. There was a reason the bell wasn’t ringing, of course. She sucked eagerly, savoring Mommy’s increasingly needy gasps and whispers of encouragement, knowing she was being brainwashed...

… and knowing that this had happened before.

She had been taken, just like this. Maybe she had consented to it. Maybe she had been hypnotized. Maybe it had been a little bit of both. How long had Mommy been doing this?

She squirmed beneath Mommy’s fingers. She had been Mommy’s lover for years—generations. She’d always thought that Mommy just happened to be her favorite of the livestock, but maybe Mommy had been fucking her over all along. Reducing her will to resist to mush. Holstaurs could be patient.

And now she had given Mommy permission to stuff the cowbell with clay. That cowbell was Mommy’s one unique trigger. It was the only advantage Bobbi had over her.

But why would she want an advantage over someone who made her feel so... so...

... soooo...

“So good,” Mommy cooed, stroking Bobbi to her first squealing orgasm. Bobbi wriggled and shivered in the holstaur’s arms, but only slightly. She was already being soothed and brainwashed into accepting pleasure with still, meek acceptance. She couldn’t even scream her lust. She just whimpered. And clutched at Mommy. And suckled. “Does Mommy make you feel good, Bobbi?”

“Mm-hm!” Bobbi cried, helpless to resist the question.

But she was not completely mindless. Not yet. She breathed in deep through her nose, inhaling the musk, the milk, every scent of Mommy’s—of Laca’s—and reached over with one hand, careful not to get too distracted fondling Mommy’s other breast. She she gripped the cowbell.

She gave it a shake, willing it with all her might to remember its purpose. Please let the magic hold, please let the magic hold...

She was rewarded with the feeling of dust and broken clay cascading down Mommy’s body and into her own hair.

And then the bell began to ring. Long, soft clangs of Mommy’s signature bell.

Mommy didn’t react at first. Then she took a deep breath. Bobbi felt her chest heaving as she took in the newfound arousal. “O-oh... Bobbi, you shouldn’t have...”

She could feel the holstaur’s breast heating up, and the hot milk that was coursing down Bobbi’s throat took on a distinctly spicier flavor. She swallowed it down greedily, helpless to stop herself. If only she could resist for a second, could stop the constant, overwhelming, inevitable flow of lust-inducing, obedience-ensuring milk...

But she only shook uncontrollably as Mommy started to stroke her clit faster. “But you know,” the holstaur cooed, “making Mommy horny only does one thing for you, right?”

“Mm...” Bobbi’s eyes rolled up into her skull as Mommy slowly, but surely, eked the second orgasm from her shivering body.

“It means,” Mommy purred, “Mommy needs you more than ever.”

And Bobbi started to tremble uncontrollably as she came a third time, pleasure storming through her and washing away all semblance of sense for a while. She sucked and embraced Mommy fully, forgetting her purpose. She couldn’t help it. She needed it. Needed all of it.

It would be... a minute? An hour? It would be a while before Bobbi was able to regain herself enough to refocus her will. The bell was ringing nonstop now, an incessant clanging to punish Mommy’s insubordination. But what could the mere bell do? Horny as Mommy was, she was getting suckled. For Mommy, that was as good as a tongue on her clit. You couldn’t tease a holstaur’s nipples. It always backfired.

Bobbi’s eyes slipped open.

As good as a tongue on her clit.

With trembling fingers, she stopped clutching Mommy with both arms and brought her hand down. Down, slipping down Mommy’s curvy body. Mommy was purring and shuddering, savoring what had to be her tenth orgasm by this point.

Holstaurs were never in a hurry because getting suckled was literally the most exquisite pleasure they could experience. This was part of why even lust sprite packs and nymphs and Thriae tended to lose in a head-to-head with the holstaur.

But Bobbi had spent the last two generations toying with Laca. She she grinned internally, because she knew how to tease a holstaur.

Her fingers reached the holstaur’s tail, gripped it, and began to slide up its base towards the tuft

“Mm?” Mommy almost wanted to fall asleep. It was so easy to just lie there and bathe in the pleasure her helpless little Bobbi was giving her.

But Bobbi was grabbing her tail now. And through the haze of lust and pleasure, Laca realized too late what this meant. She opened her mouth to command Bobbi to stop, to refocus her attention, but then she felt it.

And when she felt it, she felt it:

The faintest of ticklings on her slick cunt.

“Oh.” She swallowed. “Oh.”

Bobbi was tickling her cunt with her own tufted tail.

Her legs shook slightly “N-no. Bad girl. B-bad—” She moaned, legs trying in vain to close against her suddenly madly twitching tail. “Stop! Aah! Nn!“

Holstaur cunts were not made for pleasure. Not really. That was what her tits were for.

But that didn’t mean they weren’t very, very sensitive.

And holstaur tails really had a mind of their own.

“Mm,” she heard Bobbin say, face still pressed hungrily against her breast and sucking away. And Laca savored that bliss, but now it was coming at a price.

A price she wasn’t sure she wanted to pay. Because the more Bobbi teased her, the more vulnerable she was to... to...

“Aah!” Laca cried, her legs spreading wider. “N-no! Don’t you... d-don’t you dare!” Her voice was getting higher and higher pitched,. “You want my—my—”

The tickling on her clit was unbearable. And the worst part of all was that she was inflicting it on herself. She could do nothing to stop it, not without releasing Bobbi. And she was never, ever going to release Bobbi. Not until they were finished with this session.

“Mm,” Bobbi said again, sounding sweet and content. But it was an act. It had to be an act. She couldn’t be doing this unthinkingly... right?

The hob nuzzled against Laca’s chest, and Laca was suddenly thrust into doubt.

And the tickling continued. Laca was panting. The tickling was getting so bad, she couldn’t even concentrate on the wonderful bliss of Bobbi’s lips. She was squirming, now, barely containing her fits of giggling. She bit her lip, a smile spreading across her face by pure reflex. “S-stop! B-bad—aah—eeheehee—”

“Mm!” The tail started tickling faster. Mommy squealed in laughter, totally losing control. She started to writhe and wriggle in the chair, giggling like mad. Her hands fell from Bobbin’s head and thrust downward, struggling to restrain her naughty, misbehaving tail.

And in that moment, Bobbi struck.

Using reservoirs of willpower Laca had almost forgotten still lingered after all these years, Bobbi broke away from Laca’s breast. Her chin was dribbling with milk and her eyes were glazed with need, but she solved it the only way a holstaur’s victim could.

Laca’s eyes widened in alarm as the hob’s head immediately dove between her legs.

Laca let out a scream the second the tongue began its wicked attentions. Bobbi’s sideburns tickled the insides of her thighs, and her arms rose back up, toying with Laca’s breasts, pushing the holstaur back against the chair as Laca struggled to rise. Laca whined and squealed as that tongue went to work

Bobbi was very, very good with her tongue. It wasn’t Laca’s thing, but she couldn’t possibly resist it when she was subjected to it in this state.

Because the bell was still ringing.

She started twitching and spasming helplessly, shrieking in laughter. She was totally lost. Inside, her mind railed against her traitorous pussy, but her body was singing from the delightful torment and humiliation she had so long been denied from Bobbi.

Switch holstaurs were very rare, though fake submissive holstaurs were very, very common. Bobbi and Laca had enjoyed many years together before Laca had decided to change the balance of power. She squeaked, clutching weakly at Bobbi’s head as years and years of brainwashing were undone by a few simple licks. She had longed for so long to lose control, but...

No! she had to—had to regain control! Bobbi was still under! She could still win this!

“Y-you can’t—aahahaha!” Laca melted beneath that tickling tongue, trembling beneath the fingers on her breasts. It was too much. She couldn’t take this much tortured bliss!

So, biting her lip to hold in another squeal of mixed delight, Laca did the only thing she could think of: She grabbed Bobbi by the shoulders and rolled the two of them off of the chair and into the grass.

Bobbi was caught off-guard by the tumble, and there was a moment when she lay helpless on the grass, staring straight up at the ceiling. She licked her lips, savoring Laca’s spicy taste. It wasn’t as good as her milk, of course, but as a substitute, it was barely enough to tide her over. It had been a long, long time since she’d tasted Laca down below, and that novelty gave it power.

Then her heart pounded, and she barely reacted in time to avoid getting an eyeful—and faceful—of Laca’s bounteous breasts as the holstaur came tumbling upon her. She rolled and dove between the holstaur’s legs, tackling her hips.

The two wrestled for a moment, Bobbi desperately gripping the holstaur’s hips like a lifeline—which, in a sense, they were. She busied herself lapping between the holstaur’s legs, struggling to reduce Laca to the wreck she needed to be for Bobbi to survive this.

She lapped at the holstaur’s legs, reveling in the taste, even as internally she struggled to think of a new plan. What now? She had to overwhelm Laca, had to make Mommy cum so she could... could...

She shook herself, even as she was taken onto her back. No! She had to overwhelm Mommy, had to make her feel good, had to obey—

A phantom tongue. Her mind finally reached the obvious conclusion. All she needed to do was work the spell, and then she could gain distance, could... could...

She swallowed, feeling the spicy taste of Mommy;’s juices coursing down her throat. A new exquisite sensation was dipping into her lust-wracked body now.

Mommy had started licking her.

And Mommy had a very loving tongue, considering how rarely she had to use it.

The two fey were flat-out sixty-nining now, and Bobbin was trapped on the bottom, on her back in the soft grass. This was bad. This was very bad. Bobbi couldn’t handle another orgasm, and she knew that was what she was being built towards. She was too close. And Mommy knew it.

If she came, she knew exactly what would happen next. She would be dazed, just for a few moments, unable to lick back. And then Mommy would take her into her arms, would clutch her in that soft, comforting warmth and press her face to Mommy’s breast, and Bobbi would start suckling again... would be a good girl again...

Bobbi’s tongue was already slowing. Her eyes were glazing over. She licked slowly, but she didn’t fully stop. Her mind was awash in the sort of imagery and wordage Mommy had no doubt been implanting in her for decades, and she only now realized how helpless she really was against the holstaur’s charms.

She had never had a chance.

She started to squeal as the orgasm drew nearer. Mommy had taught her to obey. Taught her to enjoy being used, enjoy being beaten like this. She loved to submit. Loved to submit to Mommy. Had she ever even had a chance?

She had been taught for years to be Mommy’s slave. And soon she would be. The brainwashing would continue, and Mommy—Laca would eventually own her completely. And then she would claim the werewolf, and the cat... or maybe she’d just skip straight to Master.

And the Ranch would be lost.

Bobbi felt a sparkle of resistance like that, but it barely felt like anything, really. What could she really do? It felt too good to give in. She loved to lose, and she knew Mommy had taught her that, too. Mommy had taught her so much, and she was starting to feel very happy about that. She loved Mommy. Loved how Mommy’s tongue made her feel. Mommy had taught her to love it. Taught her to love Mommy. Taught her to suck.

Suck.

Bobbin blinked.

Yes.

She could do that.

But gods, she was so, so close...

She felt around with her tongue until she was sure she had Laca’s clit—it helped that Laca’s own licking would slow a little whenever she touched it.

And she took it between her lips and started to suck with a newfound passion.

The bell rang in her wear, filling her with growing determination. It was taking all her might, though, to hold in her own orgasm. Her attentions were desperate, fed by a mix of lust, desire to please Mommy, and pure panic, but internally her mind was as tightened as a drum. She thrashed her lower body, desperate to escape Laca’s tongue, but the holstaur was relentless. She moaned and whined. She couldn’t hold on.

Couldn’t on on.

Her licking sped up. Didn’t want to hold on.

She wanted to give in, she realized, eyes widening. It would feel so good to please Laca, to please... to please Mommy. It would feel so, so good. Every ring of the bell just reminded her of how horny Mommy was, how needy she was, how much she would reward Bobbi for being a good girl. She needed to submit. Needed to please. Needed to... to...

“Mmmoooo! MOOOO!“

Bobbi’s thoughts were drowned out by squeals of lust from above. And not just squeals—moos.

Laca was cumming.

Bobbi’s eyes widened as the tongue’s attentions on her own clit finally slowed to a halt. And thinking quickly, she seized her chance. She flipped Laca onto her back, sitting up at last so her ass was clear from Laca’s endless attentions, and stared down at Laca’s slick cunt.

She raised one finger, wrapped it around another finger, and blew. Magic swirled around the cunt, slowly began to take shape.

And as the magic was halfway through completion, Bobbi grinned, turning back to the mooing holstaur, eager to watch her hard-won victory take shape on Laca’s cute, submissive face.

Laca looked back up at her, a sly smile on her face, and bounced her breasts together.

Bobbi’s brain melted into putty at the mere sight. She had been tricked, and she was so, so glad of it.

“Who’s ready to be a good girl?” Mommy cooed.

“B-Bobbi is,” Bobbi whimpered, leaning back down. She heard Mommy giggling and cackling as Bobbi began to suckle once more, and Bobbi’s brain was filled once more with pure, easy pleasure.

And for a minute or so, all Bobbi knew was liquid bliss, erotic submission. She had lost again, of her own recklessness, and she was glad of it.

But then... something happened.

Those giggles started to change cadence. Mommy started to giggle higher, then faster. Then she started to shriek.

And then Bobbi realized, her brain still numb from the milk, what was happening.

The phantom tongue had completed casting after all.

She kept suckling, helpless to stop herself, but now realized why Mommy was spasming and shaking the way she was. Bobbi was effectively pinning her now, sucking at her teat while holding her to the ground.

“S-stop!” Mommy shrieked. “Mmmoooo!”

Bobbi couldn’t help but giggle as she instead switched to the other breast, knowing how this complex mix of pleasure and tickling teasing would affect her lover. The phantom tongue would keep tickling her as long as Bobbi remained in sight. Bobbi had no power or will to remove it, not while the milk was filling her brain with gooey sweetness. In this state of mind, part of her—most of her—was just blissfully happy that Mommy seemed so happy.

So she continued to drink, and began to stroke Mommy’s hair—just as Mommy had done for her before. Her heart glowed with amusement at Mommy’s moos and squeals and giggles, even as her mind sank back into the comforted, submissive daze.

It took another half-hour of this torture before Mommy at last relented and forced Bobbi away. Bobbi even tried to crawl back to her, but Mommy managed to keep her at bay. The holstaur was red-faced and humiliated, and had to crawl up on the chair, shuddering all the while, just to avoid Bobbi’s mindless attentions.

Bobbi’s mental faculties slowly returned, and she felt intense relief when she was at last able to stand once more. She took a deep breath, listening to the holstaur squealing behind her, begging for release. And she turned around to face her again.

“Did we learn our lesson?” Bobbi purred, careful not to look anywhere but the holstaur’s wide brown eyes.

“Yes!” the holstaur squealed. “Moo! Please! B-Bobbi!”

“Were we a bad girl?” Bobbi couldn’t help but let one last trigger in, even though it sent a tingle up her own spine as well. She delighted in the way Mommy’s pupils dilated at the phrase.

“Yes!” the holstaur screamed. “Bad—I was bad, a bad girl, please, Bobbi, please!”

Bobbi smirked and snapped her fingers. “Good girl,” she said sweetly, again shivering as she and the udder sprite both experienced the same delightful triggered orgasm. But the holstaur felt it stronger, of course. How couldn’t she?

She walked forward as the holstaur panted for breath, utterly exhausted, and patted her on the head,. “Bit of a slow day for milk,” she said, lifting the only half-full pail. “But I’m sure you’ll be better-behaved next time, won’t you?”

“Y-yes,” the holstaur whispered.”Better. Better behaved. Thank you, Bobbi. Thank you.” Bobbi felt the holstaur kissing her legs, and did not bother to dissuade the attention. She could easily fight the holstaur off if the holstaur tried anything.

“Very good,” Bobbi said, turning away. “Then maybe I’ll come back tomorrow.” She headed towards the stall. “But... I suppose I worry.”

“Mm?” The holstaur was too tired to even look up as Bobbi glanced back at her.

“All alone for a whole day... a slutknocker bimbo like you needs some way to pass the time.”

There was a pause as this registered. The holstaur’s eyes shot up, wide and frantic. “No. No!”

But Bobbin only laughed as she twisted one finger around another and blew.

The holstaur went limp, screaming and mewling and mooing in tortured tickled bliss, as the phantom tongue returned—now with two siblings on her breasts. She writhed and thrashed in the grass, her breasts bouncing wildly.

And Bobbi smiled. It felt good to be in control again. She’d been worried for a while there—worried that her favoritism toward the udder sprite had weakened her in some way to suggestions—but now she was back in command, and loving every second of it.

In fact, Bobbi found she couldn’t wait to visit Mommy again tomorrow.