The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Domestication occurred because it was a good deal for both the animal and the humans involved.” Catherine waved her beer around to make her point, causing Mike next to her to duck.

“Are you telling me that getting milked constantly, or killed and eaten for meat, is a good deal for the cow?” James was paying devil’s advocate from the couch across the room.

“Sure; just look at it from the cow’s perspective. They get led to the best food, they get protection from predators, and other competing animals get chased off. All they give up is the occasional individual, usually one too old to breed. It probably would have been lost to predators long before, otherwise.”

“What about getting milked? Or even bled, in some cultures.” Mike asked.

“What about it? If they get enough food, it isn’t a problem. Any animal would agree to the cow’s bargin. Cows are one of the most successful animals on the planet because of it.” Was Catherine’s reply.

“Perhaps. But how do you actually take that first step? That’s got to be the hard part.” Bethany piped in.

Ethan answered. “Oh, not so hard. It’s fairly simple reward psychology. Get someone used to getting something from you, and they’ll keep coming back. They will even like you for it.”

“Ethan, we are talking animals here. Your psychology courses won’t work.”

“Humans are just another form of animal. A little more complicated, maybe. The basics work no matter what the species.”

“Are you telling me you could domesticate a human?” This was James again, starting to show the effects of his drink.

Ethan set down his drink and humored his friend. “Sure, why not? Not fully domesticated, of course, that takes generations, but as domesticated as you can get with a wild animal at least.”

“Now, that I’d like to see.”

Ethan smiled. “It should be possible. Though you’d need a semi-willing subject, at least.” He dismissed the idea.

“Sounds like you are in luck, then. Catherine just said any animal would agree to the cow’s bargin. She sounds willing enough. Domesticate her.”

Everyone looked at Catherine. Ethan jumped to her defense, sorta. “What do you mean, “domesticate her”? You want me to make her a housewife or something? Cathy’s nice, but I’m not sure I want to marry her.”

“Nah, domesticate her. Like a cow. You said it was possible. I’ll bet you...” He managed to get his wallet out, “thirty-eight dollars you can’t domesticate her.”

Ethan got up and walked over. “Ok, I think you’ve had enough for the night. Assuming I could, and that Cathy agreed to let me, it would still be immoral.”

James was being dragged to his feet. “Immoral? I thought you were the one who said he was amoral. Was proud of it, in fact. And why would her agreement make any difference? I doubt the cows ‘agreed’ to being domesticated.”

“Come on James, Mike and Justin are going to get you home.” Ethan helped them shove their inebriated friend to the door.

“Hey, you owe me thirty-eight dollars! You’re admitting you can’t!”

“I’m not admitting I can’t, just saying I’m not going to for some bet. Good night James.” Ethan shut the door on him. “Sorry about that ladies. I guess we’re heading in early tonight.”

“No problem. James was just being James, and I’ll admit I’ve probably had enough too. See you later.” Bethany headed out the door.

Catherine just waved, and headed upstairs. She had the ‘other’ apartment in this converted house. She shared no more than a front hallway with Ethan. Well, that and a landlord.

Ethan got undressed, finished his nightlies, and climbed into bed. He was tired, and a bit buzzed, but a quick dropoff into the land of Nod eluded him. Try as he might, he couldn’t get the group’s ending discussion, and James’ rather bizarre wager, out of his head.

Could he domesticate another human being? Would it be possibly to do something like that to anyone he wanted, even Cathy, if they agreed to let him try? And what would that mean, actually... what would be considered domestication?

Too lazy to get up and search for the exact definitions of the word in the dictionary, he tried to figure them out, himself.

“To domesticate something means to take a creature who is wild, and at home in the wild, and turn them into... what? A social subservient... someone who gives up a part of what they are for their greater good, for some rewards that they can’t, or no longer want, to do without? Weren’t live-in servants and housekeepers called domestics?” He thought.

“But no human being is really wild, are they? None of us run free, or are completely at home out in the wilderness, so much. Humans could be considered the first domestic animal, really. And, by nature of agreeing to let me try to domesticate them, wouldn’t said agreement be de facto proof that they aren’t really wild to begin with?”

“Would that simply mean basically enslaving another human being to my will to the point that they would readily provide some service, or do some function, for me?” He wondered.

Unable to answer most of his own questions, Ethan finally started to drift off, his head filling with those flitting, ephemeral images one often gets just before they fall asleep; those pre-dreams that so very easily mix the real with the imaginary. In one of those, one that gave him a rather warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, he saw Cathy—naked and kneeling on all fours on his dining room table—smiling at him vacuously, her hair wild and uncombed, a thick collar around her neck with a rather large cowbell connected to it. Her tits were hanging down, and larger than he’d ever imagined them, with Cathy giving of a vibe like she wanted them touched, pulled... milked...

Ethan fell off to sleep, smiling...

Cathy was finding sleep hard to come by, as well. She’d tried, but between the alcohol and their last conversation, she had developed a tingle inside her that just wouldn’t go away, an itch that she knew from experience she’d have to scratch first, if she was ever going to get any rest.

So she was lying there in her bed, naked under the thrown-back covers, biting at her lips as her hands worked at her already sweating body... raking her nails over her hips and belly, fingering and teasing her pubes and pussy, massaging and pulling at her own tits and nipples... especially the latter.

Her breasts were on fire tonight, damn that Mike with his comments about being milked! It was difficult to actually blame him for this, as how could he know that such a thing was a secret fetish of hers... but she did, anyway, blaming him as she continued her assault on herself, as she continued to maul and squeeze her breasts to the point she could barely stand it anymore.

For a moment she thought about that silly quasi-bet, about what James and Ethan had said, wondering if Ethan had ever given any weight to the idea of actually asking her if she wanted to be domesticated. She didn’t, not at all, but what if... what if he was actually thinking about that? What if he was taking the whole conversation literally, and thinking about trying to get her to offer up her services to him in exchange for being able to... to... milk her.

She moaned aloud, and arched in her bed, quickly sliding two fingers into the maw of her churning arousal, her other hand literally tormenting her right breast. She could maybe do his dishes, fix him dinner, and then afterwards... afterwards... he would milk her, his strong hands on her helpless tits, squeezing and using them, drawing down on them, making her... oh fuck... making her...

She seized completely, and then started to cum, squealing and humping at her own hand, lost in her own fantasy and lust, wondering if Ethan would keep milking her even as she orgasmed, even as she came and came and... ohh goddd...

Collapsing back on her wet sheets, Cathy groaned, trying to settle herself down. God, that was a good one, she thought. But am I losing it or what? I can barely do my own dishes, and I eat out half the time, and I’d even consider doing those things for him? Besides, the milking isn’t supposed to be the reward, it’s supposed to be the payment for him doing... what? Protecting me from predators? Getting me the best food?

No... the whole idea is silly, and doesn’t make any sense. Besides, if Ethan thinks domesticating someone is immoral, what would he think about me getting off on being milked?

She shuddered, quickly rolling over onto her belly, better able to protect her breasts from her own hands that way. She needed to get to sleep, and she needed to stop thinking about something so foolish, and undoable, and... and... arousing. Hmmm...

With a smile and a sigh, she finally drifted off to sleep, too.

The next morning was Saturday, of course. That was why the discussion group had formed on Friday nights: so that everyone could sleep in, either because of staying up late, or because of sleeping off the refreshments.

Cathy got up a little later than she would on a weekday, but not enough to be called ‘sleeping in’. She stopped in the shower a moment—her right breast was still a little tender from the mauling she’d given it last night—then dressed for a day in.

The main kitchen in this house had been downstairs. Upstairs when it had been converted to a rental they’d put in another by turning the free-standing bathroom into a kitchen. It worked, but wasn’t very good. Which was fine; Cathy wasn’t that good a cook. Sometimes though she could smell what Ethan was cooking, from the main kitchen which opened to the stairs.

Like this morning.

On impulse she headed down to see if she could beg something better than stale cornflakes out of her downstairs neighbor.

She knocked as she entered, seeing Ethan pull the last of some perfectly-fried bacon out of the pan. “Can I join you?”

He looked up from the pan. “Sure, take a seat. I was just about to start pancakes.”

“I don’t want to steal your breakfast.” Cathy said, grabbing a slice of bacon.

“Oh, don’t worry. I usually make enough for sandwiches during the week. Just don’t eat all the bacon.”

“Pancake sandwiches?”

He smilled. “Something I picked up growing up. You take a frozen pancake, butter it, sprinkle on sugar and cinnamon, then cut it in half and fold it over. Thaw, and eat. It’s a decent large snack, or a quick light lunch.”

Cathy shook her head. “Well, I know one thing. You aren’t going to domesticate me for my cooking ablity: I’d burn the pancakes. While freezing them.”

Ethan laughed. “It’s not that hard. You just have to let them cool and dry a bit before you put them in the freezer.” He flipped the pancakes. “Besides, domestic animals all rely on their keepers for food.”

“So I wouldn’t have to cook? This is starting to sound like a better deal. Maybe I should see how much James is really willing to offer for that bet.”

“Don’t bother. He’s probably forgotten all about it. And it wouldn’t be worth it for some bet.”

“Right. You said it was immoral, after all.”

Ethan winced. “Yeah, well, James did have a point about my stance on morality. You’ve all heard me, after all. I was just trying to finish the argument quickly. What I meant was it doesn’t fit into our society, which is what most people mean by ‘moral’.”

“And we’ve all heard your stance on ‘fitting in to society’ as well.” She grabbed another slice of bacon. “But I’m not quite sure how it is relevent. What people do within their own walls, and all that.”

Ethan flipped the pancakes again, checking both sides to make sure they were done. “Point. Though true domestication really is a whole-life thing: the subject really should start feeling out of touch with ‘wild’ society, and prefer their ‘tamed’ surroundings.” Apparently they weren’t, quite.

“Which leads to the question of what domestication really is, in this case.”

“Well, the definition of ‘domesticate’ is ‘to adopt or make fit for domestic use or life’. In the context we were discussing, that of domesticating ‘like a cow’ that really should mean being used and treated as livestock, as distinct from as another human being.” He put the pancakes on her plate. “Milk?”

“Sounds good.” Cathy looked over at Ethan to get the glass and found him looking back at her, having realized what they had just said. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and looked away.

Which meant that she dropped the glass. It didn’t break, but milk was all over the place. “Oh, sorry...” Cathy grapped a napkin from the table and knelt to wipe it up.

“No, here, let me...” He was kneeling beside her, a rag in one hand, accidentally reaching under her...

They both blushed and broke off. Ethan swallowed, and said: “Eat your pancakes before they get cold. I’ll get this.”

Cathy retreated to her chair, and let Ethan clean his floor for a moment. Then he poured her another glass of milk (in a new glass), set it in front of her, and sat down across from her. “I think we need to stop pretending that we were joking.”

Cathy hadn’t taken a bite yet. Her heart raced, and she lied: “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. About James’ ‘bet’ idea.”

“You said you wouldn’t do it.”

“I said I wouldn’t do it for a bet. In particular, a bet from James. Being asked by the subject is a different question.”

“I haven’t asked you.”

“Not yet.”

“You said it was immoral. That it wouldn’t fit in to society.”

“And you refuted. Quite well, I might add.”

“We didn’t even agree on what it means.”

“We were in discussion. You had yet to enter disagreements.”

They stared at each other for what seemed like a long moment, and Cathy realized Ethan wasn’t going to let this drop until she answered the real question: Did she want to, really?

“Why would you want to?” She heard herself ask.

“Because the idea of... taming... a woman completely is... hot. And the idea of her waiting there, on all fours, to be milked...”

Cathy blushed, hard. Her panties were getting wet. “I know. I... I’m still sore from thinking about it last night.” She laughed, to break the tension. “Oh God! I can’t believe I’m seriously considering this!”

Ethan laughed too, and eased back a bit, relaxing. “Yeah, I know it’s...”

“Crazy!”

“Ridiculus!”

“Foolish!”

“Unthinkable!”

“Absurd!”

This time they both laughed, and meant it. Cathy continued. “It’s been a fantasy of mine—to be milked, that is—for ages.”

“We don’t have to do it all at once, you know. We can sorta ease into this, and you could change your mind at any time. After all, it would take some time to start milk production, and we don’t have to start working on that until you are comfortable.”

“True. So, um, where would you start?”

Ethan looked around. “Right here, actually. If we are going by ‘domestication’, the starting point really should be getting you to come to me for food.”

Cathy laughed. “Like that’s going to be hard. I barely cook!”

“I know, I’ve seen the delievery services. Let’s see, Saturday night is Chinese, right?”

“I wasn’t aware I had that much of a routine.” She took a bite of her pancake. “These are really good.”

“Thanks. Come by any time. I normally alternate between pancakes and waffles on the weekends. Weekdays I usally have cereal, but I may do something a little more enticing, given a reason to do so.”

“Sounds good to me.” She took a bite. “Did we ever agree on what you would try to make me into?”

Ethan was getting back up to make himself a set of pancakes. “Well, I had said “used as and treated as livestock” I think...”

“And what does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“Well, crawling around on all fours, being milked regularly, acting and being treated like an animal...”

“A tame animal.”

“Right. So no use of hands, no clothes, no talking...”

“Sounds about right. Backing out yet?”

Truthfully, Cathy was just getting wetter thinking about it. “I... I’ll see how far we go. No promises on going all the way.”

“No promises. And I don’t think we’ll be telling James about this.”

“Or anyone else!”

“Exactly.” He fiddled with the setup of the pan. “So... What am I allowed to do to train you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well... Domestication in the wild probably happened over several generations. I’m going to have to use some more... active... techniques to bring you to the level we are talking about fairly quickly.”

Cathy felt her breath start to get faster; He was talking about trying to force her to serve him, and forcing her to like it... Which was part of her liking milking, the idea of submissively letting him take something from her. Her milk, her choice...

Her voice was hoarse. “I... No tying me up and forcing me to do something. You have to get me to agree, or at least not notice.”

Ethan looked over at her, and for a moment she thought he’d press the point. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he did. Right this moment, if he’d wanted to tie her up and make her say ‘I am a cow’ until it came out in moos she wasn’t sure she would be able to make herself stop him.

He grinned, a glint she hadn’t seen in his eyes showing up a moment. “I can work with that.”

Which was probably worse than arguing. He thought he didn’t need to argue. That she’d agree every step of the way, until she was his pet animal...

He was probably right.

“And don’t expect me to start showing my breasts to you all the time immediately either.”

That got a reaction. He turned to her, and caught her eyes with his. “Of course not. You are my cow. Cows don’t have breasts. They have udders. And on them, they don’t have nipples. They have teats.“

Cathy was frozen in those eyes. She heard herself say: “Udders. Teats.”

“Bethany has breasts. Mary has breasts. You have udders.” He named her two best girl friends.

“Bethany has breasts. Mary has breasts. I have udders.”

“You love your udders.”

“I love my udders.”

“You are proud of your udders.”

“I am proud of my udders.”

“You like to show your udders off.”

“I like to show my udders off.”

“Good.” And he broke eye contact. Cathy felt an almost physical release as Ethan looked back to the stove.

“I... I... I think I have to go upstairs and...” Masturbate furiously, repeating that mantra he’d just instilled into her.

“Go.”

She ran.

Ethan watched Cathy go with a smile. He had a strong suspicion of where she was going, and what she was going to do. The way she’d been cupping her breasts (no: he should try to use the terms he’d just ‘asked’ her to use. Her udders,) when he’d broken eye contact was enough indication in and of itself.

He’d woken up with the idea still in his head. Strong enough that he’d stopped for a moment to check the dictionary for the definition that had eluded him last night.

But this was beyond his wildest dreams.

Ok, maybe not his wildest dreams...

He replayed the conversation in his head. He hadn’t brought it up. She specified all the terms.

He hadn’t even thought she was serious until he’d seen her reaction to the milk. That she’d just been joking along on the topic of last night. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

She hadn’t promised anything. He hadn’t promised anything, besides that he wouldn’t force her. He was going to have to be very careful, not to push too hard to fast, and never do anything she’d object to. Keep it so she was walking towards her fantasy, no more.

He thought of what she would look like naked and waiting to be milked...

The scent of burning pancakes brought him back.

Cathy lay back in the afterglow of her second orgasm. The first had come almost as she’d hit the bed, just as a warm-up for the rest. She’d found herself repeating ‘I have udders. I love my udders. I am proud of my udders. I like to show my udders off.’ over and over as she’d mauled her still-sore mammary glands. Her udders. That she loved.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this. It was...

But she wanted to. She’d always wanted to. And Ethan wasn’t asking anything of her, really. She could walk away any time. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.

So it was safe; she could play until it got too far, then she’d step back. Stop.

Cathy tried to fool herself into believing that. Believing that she would stop before Ethan took her over completely and she just crawled around, mooing, waiting to be milked...

God she needed to get out of this bed before she started up again!

But what she really needed to do was calm down and analyze this logically. What did she know about Ethan? Could she trust him?

She lived with him, basically. There was a lock on the door at the top of the stairs, but Cathy had never thought to use it. And if he didn’t want to let her out, there was no way to get past him to the main door. This had never worried her, even when she’d moved in and he’d already been here.

In fact, he’d been the one to let her know that the floor was available. She’d never worried about him taking advantage of the situation. Not once.

So could she trust him not to abuse this situation?

He was amoral. He said so. Proudly, on occasion. He was obviously willing to take advantage of the situation, once it had presented itself.

She thought back. It had presented itself. She’d brought it up. He hadn’t talked her into it. Not really. Just... Given her the opportunity to say yes.

But she knew him well enough to know that he had honor, or something like it. He might be amoral, but his first thought was usually what the effect of an action would be on everyone, not just himself.

And he had said he wouldn’t force her. In anyone else, she might think he might slip on that, eventually. But Ethan...

It would probably be more interesting to him to make sure he never did. And he never said anything he didn’t mean, one way or another.

He would hold up his end of the bargain. He’d probably do everything in his power to turn her into his domesticated pet.

And she had given him a pretty open ticket to what that meant.

Oh God, he’d probably have her literately begging to let him fuck her. A little domesticated nymphomaniac.

Not that she wasn’t acting like a nymphomaniac right now...

Cathy forced herself out of bed, and went to take her second shower of the day. Her hair was still wet from the first.

Cathy had almost bounced down the stairs topless, just to see Ethan’s reaction to her bare udders. But a cold shower had helped, and she was in a much more rational mood than when she’d headed upstairs. So she came down much more sedately, and with a bra (one of her few non-minimizing ones) and a rational t-shirt on.

Ok, so the t-shirt was a little tight. Many of her shirts were, when she used a ‘standard’ bra.

Ethan wasn’t home.

This both relieved and disappointed her. Relieved because she wasn’t quite sure how to react around him, and because he seemed to have found her hot-buttons (and wasn’t afraid to use them). Disappointed because she wanted to talk about this. (And because he wasn’t afraid to use her hot-buttons.) Cathy felt like she’d just jumped in the deep end of the pool, and was just realizing she wasn’t entirely sure how to swim.

She did find herself laughing at what he’d placed on the end-table: one pancake-sandwich, with the label ‘snack’ and one BLT with a bottle of juice labeled ‘lunch’.

She took her snack up to her rooms and watched T.V.

Ethan stood and finished his pancake batter up and thought about what needed to happen next. This was obviously a major hot-button for Catherine, but he got the feeling she’d be just as disappointed by him not pushing her hard enough as if he pushed her too hard.

But he also couldn’t push too openly, not at this point. He needed to push her while making her comfortable with their new situation.

And while making himself comfortable with it, while he was at it.

Well, start with the basics: What did he want to turn her into, exactly?

She’d given the basic parameters: Human livestock. No use of hands, no talking, no clothes. He wasn’t entirely sure about the ‘no talking’ part, all in all, but ‘not much’ talking would probably satisfy her, really. And of course, the milking. His little suggestibility test had indicated that she was quite suggestible, at least on this topic. And she seemed to truly want to think of herself as a ‘cow’, not just a person being milked.

That was the basics, the parameters. What did he, Ethan, want? Milking was fine, and would be enjoyable and arousing, but he was going to want to do something about his arousal, so she was going to have to be ready for that. As his ‘pet’ she should be affectionate, and dependent on him. Eager to please, but he was going to have to watch to keep her from being too ‘dog-like’.

Crawling around nude was going to require her to trust him as well.

From all that, it sounded like the place to start was by getting her to enjoy his company—enough that she genuinely never wanted to leave his side. At the same time he should be getting her to look to him for basic necessities and advice.

Which was what feeding her was doing after all: getting her to look to him for basic necessities, and hopefully enjoy his company.

So he needed to add to that as a start. And he should start looking up what it took to get a woman to produce milk. (And what it did to their health... Ethan had no intention of making Cathy sick by doing this. He wanted to keep her a long time, after all.)

He had a couple ideas already, and he knew where to get more details. Those classes he was taking in psychology were about to have a different, and earlier, payoff than expected. And right now he needed to go to the library and get some books.

Ethan was about ready to head out the door when the thought came to him that he might not be back for lunch. Better to set up good patterns early... He went to make something for Cathy, in case she came down, so she wouldn’t start to forage on her own.

He wanted her to eat from his hand, after all...

Catherine had to admit she hadn’t done much over the course of the day. Her laundry was in the dryer, which was still running since she’d only gotten to it mid-afternoon. Otherwise she’d mostly just sat and watched T.V. all day.

And, of course, thought about her discussion with Ethan this morning. Their agreement. She was vacilating on whether she should go down there and tell him she’d changed her mind. That being his milk-cow was fun as a fantasy, but reality was something else. That would be the sensible thing to do, really. Just go on with her life and pretend this morning’s conversation had never happened.

She could always fantasize about what might-have-been. And maybe, down the road somewhere, she would find that special someone and they could play-act it every once in a while, at night, behind closed doors.

So it didn’t have to take over her life.

Yes, that was the sensible thing to do.

Cathy headed downstairs to talk to Ethan. She found him in the kitchen.

“Hi, you’re right on time. Supper is almost ready; take a seat.”

Cathy sat, trying to figure out how to start the conversation. “That smells good.”

“Thanks. I figured I wouldn’t break your tradition too much, but the only Chinese thing I know how to make is stir-fry. You want the rice on the side on do you like to mix it all together?”

“Who eats it on the side?”

“I do. I like seperate flavors.” He brought the pan over to serve the rice. “Tell me when.”

“That’s enough.” She looked at the rice; it was a little yellowish, and didn’t look much like what she got from the take-out place.

Ethan was scooping out for his own plate. “I probably should use Asian rice for this, but I like the Arab rice better. It has more flavor, and it seems to compliment the stir-fry.”

He came round with the chicken stif-fry, and repeated the procedure. “What would you like to drink? I have beer, of course, a couple of wines someplace, sodas, juice.”

This was more of a meal than Cathy had done in ages. “What do you recommend?”

Chucking just a little bit, Ethan answered: “Well, the real recommendation for this should probably be white wine. You want some? I’ve got a bottle in the fridge.”

“Only if you are having some.”

“No problem.” He poured a couple of glasses, and set hers down in front of her. It was only then that Cathy noticed the other item at her place-setting: a large, shiny, and new cowbell.

She felt the need for a sip of wine.

Ethan took his seat and spoke: “So, tell me something about yourself that I don’t know.” He speared a bite of food and waited.

Cathy snorted, almost loosing control of her wineglass. “What is this, a first date?”

Ethan laughed and shrugged. “Sorry, it just seemed appropriate. Tell me what you think of my cooking.”

She’d taken a bite by this time. “Mmm. Good. Don’t tell me you cook like this all the time.”

“No, not really. I kinda like cooking actually, but making a meal like this for myself is just overkill. It’s not worth it. Truth to tell, I’m enjoying having someone to cook for. It has been a while.”

“It is good food. What did you say this rice was?”

“Arab. It’s actually Iraqi; they have a swampy region down where the rivers get close to the sea where it grows. My uncle introduced me too it.”

“Don’t tell me you have it sent over somehow.”

“Nope; there’s an ethnic grocery store a few blocks away that carries it. I picked a bag up earlier today.”

“Is that where you’ve been all day? Shopping?”

“Mostly. I thought I should have something a little better than my standard frozen dinners in the house if I’m going to be feeding both of us. And I wanted to stop by over at the college to get some books and stuff.” He paused, looked at her. “Please don’t tell me you are going to back right out; I’m not sure I can eat all of it on my own.” He was laughing, lightly.

Cathy responeded as lightly. “Oh, I think I can stick with this long enough to eat your food for a while.”

“Good. Cheers.” He raised his glass, and Cathy responded.

And that was as close as either of them got to mentioning the cowbell sitting next to Cathy’s left hand all night.

Catherine flopped back down in her bed. Stupid! He’d given her the perfect opportunity to back out and she’d blown it! He’d asked her straight out if she wanted to call it off! But... Something about his tone of voice, the great food in front of her, the wine in her head, and that stupid cowbell had thrown her ballance off and she’d agreed to continue!

Not that she really regretted it. After all, all she’d agreed to do was eat his food. And Ethan was a good cook. If he was willing to cook like that for her, she had no problem with going down and eating that food.

And, in all honesty, that was all he’d asked her to do so far. Well, besides that crack about her having udders. And liking having udders.

Udders which should be full of milk, and be milked by him...

And even that... She could think of herself as having breasts with nipples instead of udders with teats if she wanted to. It was just...

Calling them udders sounded better. Hotter.

So, somehow, she’d already starting thinking of them as that. And she was going downstairs to be fed by him. His ‘first step in domestication’.

All she had to do to stop this was to start calling the orbs which filled her bras ‘breasts’ again, and not go down for breakfast. Or lunch. Or supper. That wasn’t that hard. She could do it any time.

But she was curious about his waffles.

Ethan had watched Cathy stumble up the steps. They’d kept talking a while, and she had most of the wine. He’d made sure he kept refilling it so she wouldn’t notice how much she’d had. Keep her feeling like she was having a good time.

He was almost sure she had intended to tell him she was stopping this when she came down the steps. He would have expected it, really.

But he had given her a chance, and he wasn’t going to back out if she wasn’t. After all, if the cows got a lot out of their bargin with humanity, humans got even more.

He was going to have to stay up for a while tonight. He had a lot to do, that Cathy shouldn’t know about.

Ethan had to admit it was just a touch scary how quickly he’d come to enjoy what he was doing. Part of it was the challenge: Could he bring her into this without ever quite pushing her too far? And part of it was that he still didn’t think of it as ‘real’: He had discussed with his friend Catherine playing some kind of game. And nothing he was doing so far, even tonight, was any more than he’d been involved in for any of a number of practical jokes. It was just the way that they were all structured together that was different.

So, as long as he didn’t think about the end result nothing was that out of the ordinary. As for the end result, well... A part of him wasn’t entirely sure he believed it possible. And another was drooling over it.

And, quite frankly, a part of him expected him to make a mistake, or for Catherine to find there was a point beyond which she just wouldn’t go. So the professed result didn’t really matter, since it wasn’t going to happen anyway.

He had been a busy shopper today. The first thing he pulled out was a bag full of cable-splitters, which he took down to the basement. There he found where the cable split to go to the upper apartment, and started inserting splitters. Ethan wasn’t really sure what the effects would be, but he figured enough splitters should degrade her cable signal. Hopefully, if he did it gradually, instead of calling the cable company she would just decided to start using his (unencombered) T.V. instead. Especially since he would offer.

Which would, of course, mean she was hanging around him more. And would be getting the ‘basic service’ of T.V./entertainment from him.

His other big idea for the moment was inspired by a recent example in his night class. The experiment had been about reactions to stress, but what he was using it for were the devices it had used: Small white-noise generators. The college had done the experiment themselves, and he had gone in to ask if they still had the generators, and if he could have some.

Apparently they’d been quite cheap; he was given a small bag of a dozen or so. He got them out and waited.

He needed Catherine to be asleep to do this.

Once he was fairly sure she was probably asleep, he creeped up the stairs. He stopped for a moment at her bedroom door, listening for sounds of sleep or that she was going to come out and catch him. Hearing what he believed to be the former, he headed to the other side of her apartment. There he placed his first noise generator.

It took a bit of adjusting. He wanted it just barely audible, but not really enough to notice. Just one more electronic hum in the background. Once Cathy got used to it, he could start increasing the volume a bit, but the point was again for her to not notice. Instead, she would just find that being up in her apartment was tiring and stressfull, compared to coming down to his.

He worked his way across her apartment, placing one generator in each room, getting closer to her bedroom with each one. The sound did penetrate some, so this would mean that the new hum got gradually louder as she slept, instead of waking her as it might if it started suddenly as he placed the first in the next room.

He paused again at her door. Eventually, he did want to place one inside her bedroom, so that it would disturb her sleep, but not yet.

Besides, right now he still didn’t feel right about entering her bedroom while she slept. She wasn’t his; not his cow, not his pet, not even his girlfriend.

Not yet.

Then he made a stop in her kitchen. Ethan wanted to know what she ate, or at least what she kept on hand.

It wasn’t much. Leftovers mostly, from different take-out places. Some odds and ends. Ethan took careful notes.

And then he turned the fridge and freezer to the highest temperature settings.

Not off. She would notice that. But not very cold either. Warm enough that the food would start to spoil faster, but it would still look natural, and it wouldn’t happen all at once.

With luck, she’d just throw it out as she noticed, and not replace it as she ate out of his kitchen. Which would then lead to a further reason to eat from him: she would have no food of her own.

He opened strategic items in her cupboards so they would go stale: chips, cereal. Not everything. He’d considered sabotaging her stove, but couldn’t think of a way that would only impair it’s function, that he was sure would stay safe. Better just not to touch it.

The laundry room presented the same problem: He’d love to get her to be uneasy to operate her washer and dryer, but he didn’t actually want to wreck them. He settled for turning the noise-generator up in that room.

His sabotage of Cathy’s home complete, Ethan retreated to his own, and set his alarm clock.

He wanted to have waffles ready when she got up.

Cathy went to bed worried on Sunday. As far as she could tell, Ethan hadn’t done anything besides feed her for two days, and she was already starting to react.

It had started first thing in the morning. She’d gotten up, taken her shower, gotten dressed, and headed down for breakfast. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but looking back she’d been much more comfortable the moment she stepped through his door. And she hadn’t looked forward to going back upstairs.

She had. There was no reason for her to stay downstairs after all. Her home was the upstairs apartment. But... She hadn’t been able to relax all day. She found herself walking around tense.

Except when she went downstairs.

She’d tried to watch T.V. again, to take her mind off of it. But somehow she found it was giving her headaches.

And when she’d gone down to get a snack from Ethan (which she had done far too often yesterday) and he’d been watching the same show...

Well, she’d joined him, and felt much better. Whereas upstairs she was having to work to make out what was going on, sitting next to him she could just sit back and relax and enjoy the show.

He’d made an obvious comment that she was welcome to use his T.V. any time. Her reply that she might was less joking than she’d like.

If this was what one weekend of just feeding her did to her he might be able to turn her into his milk-pet after all.

And, of course, she wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing. She had agreed to it, after all... And he was nice, certainly. Someone she could talk to.

Someone she was enjoying being with.

Then there was that cow-bell. The one at her place at the table. Not in the center, not positioned as part of something else. It was part of her place-setting, just off the place-mat.

She avoided looking at it. Or touching it. Or talking about it. What could she say? ‘Is this the bell you are going to hang around my neck when you milk me?’

And what would she do when he said yes? What could she do?

When it appeared that just giving her the best meals she’d had in ages was enough for her to want to abandon her own apartment for his.

When she did, what would he get her to abandon next? Her clothes? Walking around on two legs? Talking?

She stopped that line of thought before she got too far. She didn’t want to end up masturbating to the image of Ethan taking control of her. Not right now, when it appeared that it might actually happen.

But she admitted to herself that frigging her brains out was one way to relieve the tension she’d felt all day. Then she could just let go and sleep, much like she wanted to let go to Ethan...

Or she could lie here and worry all night about him doing something she had asked him to do.

A part of her wanted to call it off. Say ‘No: Stop’. But stop what? Stop feeding her? What, was she so out of it that a restaurant could control her?

She would have to wait until he did something else. Then she could stop this. Right now, he wasn’t doing anything a good friend wouldn’t do. After all, he had even commented that he liked cooking for her, as it gave him a chance to do more cooking.

She could eat cereal in the morning though.

Catherine drifted to sleep with confused images of herself filling her cereal bowl with milk from cow-like udders on her chest flitting through her head.

Ethan waited in the entranceway for Cathy to get home. She’d come down this morning for breakfast disgruntled; apparently she’d intended to have cereal on her own, but her milk had been sour. She’d known it was old, but she hadn’t thought it was that old.

Ethan had hid his smile and offered her french toast. She’d accepted, and soon was looking much more refreshed and ready to face the day. By the time she headed out the door, she was almost chipper. She’d accepted the lunch he’d made for her without really noticing she was doing so.

Ethan had waved her off, then gotten down to some plotting. He was mostly self-employed, working as a contractor/consultant for various firms in the area. Which allowed him to take days off when he wanted, as well as take those college courses he’d always been interested in but had never had the time the first time around to take. It was going slow, but he should have his second master’s in a couple of years.

The noise generators were working better than he planned. He considered dropping one in her purse, so she would have it with her whenever she was out of the house (so she’d prefer staying in), but keeping her from finding it was a problem. And he didn’t know enough about her daily routine to know who else would be affected by such a step.

He needed something else though. Something able to plant specific ideas into her head. He’d considered trying subliminals, but from his courses there was some debate about whether they worked at all, and if they did they would take ages. And there was no way they’d impart complex concepts.

She was suggestible though. His experiment to get her to say ‘udders’ had proved that much. Though he hadn’t thought of a good way to see how well it was holding. (’So, what do you call these, Cathy?’ was right out.) So, he’d thought he might try getting her under hypnosis.

Of course, ‘can I hypnotize you’ wasn’t going to work. She was still adjusting to this. He was too, but he at least the knowledge of exactly what he was adjusting to. He’d pushed her near-continually since she’d agreed, so she had never really had a chance to get her feet under her.

Which he had tried to foster, after all.

All of this had led to him standing here, in the entryway, ready to ‘accidentally’ run into Cathy as she came home.

“Oh, hi Cathy, I was just checking the mail. How was your day?”

“Exhausting. Corporate decided they needed new numbers yesterday...” She sighed. “I’ve been running all day, and I just...”

“Time to relax and unwind, huh?” She nodded, but made no move to go upstairs. Ethan didn’t blame her: with those noise generators, her apartment would be the last place she wanted to go to relax.

He wasn’t going to get a better chance. “Here, try this: close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Just take it in, and let it out slowly. In... Out... Imagine a place where you can lie back and don’t have anything to worry about. Blue sky, a wide open field... Send your mind there and just let all your stress melt away. You can feel yourself relaxing, as you gaze up into the blue sky.”

Cathy was limp in his hands; Ethan had actually had to catch her as she relaxed. “I want you to let it all out, all the stress and all the exhaustion and all the worry you have felt. And as you do, you will find yourself making a sound. A sound of relaxation, and of pleasure. A ‘moo’. Let me hear you make that sound.”

Cathy responded, still entranced, “Mooo...”

“Good. That is a good sound. You like it; you can use it whenever you do not have words to say. It can be pleasure, or frustration, or whatever else you want it to be, whenever you need to let something out that you can not fit into words. You can just moo and let it all out, whatever you are feeling, whatever you mean, that sound can mean.”

“Now, I want you to bring your mind back, and you can bring back all that relaxation and contentment you have found. In your own time, you can open your eyes and you will feel refreshed and relaxed.”

Ethan waited as Catherine slowly opened her eyes and came back to awareness. For just a moment she looked up at him from where he was holding her with her big brown eyes open and thankful.

Then she realized what had just happened, grabbed her purse from where she had dropped it, and bolted up the stairs.

Cathy had had a hell of a day. Nothing seemed to be going right: First she had tried to eat breakfast in her own kitchen, but her milk had gone sour. She’d actually taken one bite of stale cereal in sour milk, which had lingered on her tastebuds as she threw the whole thing out and gone down to see what Ethan had for her.

Breakfast with Ethan had been good. The french toast got the taste of sour milk out her mouth, and by the time she was done instead of dreading the end to the weekend she’d almost felt ready to face the office.

The office was chaos. Some idiot up at headquarters had some new idea he’d tried out, and they needed to re-do all their numbers for the last month, and quickly. Cathy had been glad for the lunch she’d brought: it meant she could eat at her desk, and she didn’t even notice until she was half-way through it that it was something Ethan had made.

And she’d only noticed because it was better than anything she would have made for herself.

She’d come home tired, and ready to just plop down and veg out. Then she’d run into Ethan in the entryway...

Now, afterwards, she didn’t believe for a minute that he’d just ‘accidentally’ been there. At the time she’d been too exhausted to question it.

He’d helped her relax for a moment. She’d felt herself drifting away to blue skies and endless fields, mooing in pleasure...

And she’d been happy for a moment as she came back. Ready to just stay right there and leave all the tension behind.

Now, here she was at the top of her stairs, and she could feel the weight of the day settling back on her shoulders. Dreading sitting down alone, wanting to go downstairs and just relax...

But scared of what that might lead her to do. What Ethan might have her do.

On the other hand, she was sure she wasn’t going to get any relaxation up here. Why that was true she wasn’t so sure, but it was.

Cathy put her business purse away, and resolutely headed down the stairs to Ethan’s apartment.

Cathy found Ethan watching T.V. One of her favorite shows.

Of course.

She stood by the doorway. “Ethan? I need a time-out for a moment. Ok? No new pressing me to imagine I’m a cow, or to act like a cow, or whatever. Just... talk. Ok?”

He turned off the T.V. “Sure. If that is what you need. Come in, take a seat.”

She accepted tenatively, then fell into a chair gratefully. “Thanks. About our agreement, I just...”

“Do you want to call it off? I can leave you alone, if you want.”

“No, I... I mean, I think... Moooo.“ The sound just came out in her indecision. For a moment there was silence, and then Cathy laughed a little at herself. “I guess I’m having trouble figuring out just what I want. I mean, that incident in the entryway a moment ago; My first thought is to say thank you, I have had a really bad day, starting with that sour milk, and you really helped me relax. And then you had me moo, and now I’m not sure whether I was supposed to be imagining myself as a human or a cow in that field, and really just don’t know how to handle it all.”

Ethan waited for Catherine to continue. After a moment, she did. “I guess... I like that you are helping me relax, and your cooking is great, but I feel like you are always pressuring me somehow. And I know I asked you to, somewhat, but here I am mooing at you and I’m still not entirely comfortable with eating with you morning noon and night. It is just all so fast, and I know I probably can’t blame you for all of it, I mean besides feeding me you haven’t really done all that much, though I don’t know what that was in the hallway there, and...”

He cut her off. “Oh, I’ve done a lot besides just feeding you.”

She stopped and looked at him. “You have? What?”

Ethan grinned. “Let’s just say there are reasons you find it less stressful to stay down here, and that my T.V. really is easier on your eyes.”

“And the milk? Did you have anything to do with that?”

“I didn’t make it sour, if that’s what you mean, but yes, I helped it along...”

Cathy felt herself relaxing at the news. It hadn’t all been in her head. How he was doing it, she wasn’t really sure, but it was nice to know she wasn’t just throwing herself headlong into this. That it was caused. “I don’t suppose you are going to tell me how you’ve arranged all this, are you?”

“Not if I can help it.” He waited a moment. “I will tell you that in the hallway a moment ago I was trying hypnosis, for which you are a good subject. And I didn’t really mean to describe a cow pasture when I started, but when it started coming out that way I thought it was appropriate.” He put his head down and lowered his voice. “And you are right: I have been trying to push you continously. Keeping you off-balance. I thought it was a good way to, well, manipulate you for this. If you want to call it off we can.”

“I... I don’t really know. I am enjoying parts of it, it is just that I don’t really want to be ‘manipulated’ into this. I...” She stopped looking at him, unable to meet his eye for a moment, “want to be seduced into it. Made to love it, every moment. And you are doing well, it is just...”

“I’m going a little too fast. You need to adjust to things as they come at you.”

“Yeah. I need to decide if I like them, as they come. Right now I’m trying to decided if I like eating with you, staying downstairs, referring to these as ‘udders’, mooing... And I’m trying to decide it all at once.”

“Ok. So. No new changes for a while. I’ll let you adjust to what we’ve already done, and then we can move forward. Ok?” He waited for Cathy to nod. “Are you really referring to yourself as having udders?”

She blushed. “Yeah, in my head. I mean, it isn’t like I have to, but...”

“And that was just an impulse test. I wasn’t even sure it would work right then.”

“Oh, it worked. I almost came down the stairs topless to show them off to you.” She paused. “And then you weren’t home...“ She added teasingly.

Ethan shook his head. “I should have pushed that harder. A few more words and you would probably be topless right now.”

She got up. “Keep imagining. Who knows? I haven’t said ‘stop’ yet...”

“True.” Cathy started heading towards the door. “If you really want to de-stress, I suggest you don’t go back upstairs. I’ve got it rigged as a ‘stressful’ environment.”

“I’ll be back. I just want to change. Maybe I’ll let you relax me like you did in the hallway, if you’ll promise not to add any ‘extra’ suggestions.”

Ethan paused a moment, then grinned. “I don’t think I can promise that.”

Cathy went to go change out of her work clothes.

Cathy lay in bed, gently stroking her udders. The news that Ethan had been doing something to make her do most of the things she had worried about was comforting. It meant that she wasn’t completely losing it yet. Instead this was just what she had agreed to: a step-by-step decent into a fantasy of hers. She could stop worrying about it quite as much and try to enjoy it, if she wanted.

After their talk, she’d changed quickly and gone back down. She still didn’t know what Ethan had done, but she could tell she was noticably tenser in her own apartment than in his.

A little part of her had wondered just what he might do if she’d asked him for another relaxation session like in the hallway. She had liked that, and it had been very relaxing...

But she wanted to see what had been done to her so far before she started asking for more.

Oh, God, and she’d moo’d at him! It had just come out, when she was all flustered and couldn’t find the words. She’d been standing there, trying to figure out what to say, and it had just come out ‘Mooo.’

That was one of the hottest moments of her life. Even if she’d been scared right then.

And when she’d gone back down she’d dressed more casually than she’d even done around him before. Just to press her own envelope a bit. Basically, she had hung out on his couch in pajamas.

It had been a very relaxing evening, actually a good antidote for the day she had before it.

And now she was laying in bed, stroking herself, and wondering what Ethan had been imaging for her next. What would she have done if she’d let him hypnotize her? Would she have taken off her top? Taken off everything? Crawled around on the floor? Something completely different, that she hadn’t thought of yet?

What would it feel like if he did get her to the point where she’d wait docily for him to milk her?

Cathy realized she was mooing in pleasure and giggled. “Mooo.” She liked the sound. Hearing herself moo made her happy. She was really doing this; she was letting him turn her into his milk-cow. She was mooing, and she had udders, and she hung around him all the time, and she ate whatever he told her to eat...

One hand had slipped down now. She wondered what you called that part on a cow. About how long she’d be able to keep from offering it to Ethan, if he wanted it.

About if she could hold it back from him right now, if he asked.

Mostly though, she wandered in the pasture he’d shown her in her mind, the one with blue skys and endless green fields. She imagined herself on all fours, contentedly wandering around the pasture, waiting for Ethan to come milk her...

And, gradually, slowly, mooing gently in the rising pleasure, she found orgasam.

Thursday evening found Catherine and Ethan in Cathy’s apartment, cleaning her kitchen. She had decided that since she hadn’t been in there in days, it was best that the food not go to waste.

Though, the smell they found upon opening the fridge indicated much of it probably had.

“What did you do to it?” She asked, looking at the remains of some chicken chow mein. “Or won’t you tell me?”

Ethan laughed. “Oh, since it’s done it’s job at this point I’ll tell you. Check the thermostat on the fridge.”

She looked. “That’s it? You set it warm?”

“That’s it. For the fridge and freezer anyway. ‘Full warm’ on most fridges isn’t enough to actually keep most food fresh.”

“But it still shouldn’t have all spoiled over just a day or two.”

“You only tried the milk. I bet the rest was still good then. Milk goes bad fast.”

“So what was your plan here, anyway?”

“Just to make you distrust your own food and cooking, so you’d take advantage of mine.”

“Not that you needed to.”

“Hey, it did bring you down for breakfast once. And you’ve skipped your own snacks.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s because I was downstairs anyway. Besides, I left my bag of chips open. They were stale.”

He looked over at her with a smirk.

“I didn’t leave it open?”

“Nope. I opened it.”

“When did you do all this, anyway?”

“Saturday night. After you went to sleep.”

“You work fast.”

Ethan bowed. Conversations along these lines had become commonplace over the last couple of days; Both Cathy and Ethan had found she was more comfortable with this if she knew what was happening to her. Ethan wouldn’t tell her everything usually, but he would let her know he’d done something.

And Cathy would find herself wondering exactly what he had done, and what he hadn’t told her. What effects it was having on her that she didn’t notice, and looking for the effects she did notice...

She never fought them. Which surprised her more than anyone else. She really should be resisting this, she thought. But... She could at any point. In fact, all she had to do was say the word and Ethan would quit. He’d made that clear.

Which only made it easier to continue. She was doing this as much as he was, and she could feel it taking hold day by day. It was habit already to hang out downstairs, to watch T.V. with Ethan, or hang out and talk, or just sit and read in one of his chairs. She’d watch him cook dinner for them both each night, and would come down almost before she finished dressing in the morning.

He never kicked her out. He made it clear she could come down any time she wanted, and do whatever she wanted. It was up to her.

Which of course meant that she let him pick what they watched, or when the T.V. got turned off. Or whatever else they were going to do.

She’d come to dread going back up to her apartment. She could still sleep; the effect—whatever it was—wasn’t as strong there, but the rest of the time she wanted out.

And Ethan was always there with a smile and a welcome.

For that matter, she really wanted out of this kitchen now, to head back downstairs. But she had been the one to suggest they empty her cupboards.

She started grabbing whole shelf-fulls and sweeping them into the trash.

“There, all done.” She watched him carefully, slowly, tie off all the bags, then start an examination to make sure everything was clean. “Can we go back to your place now?”

“Sure.” He said with a grin. She moo’d at him in distain. He laughed.

That was her other thing. ‘Moo’ was her new favorite utterance. She used it all the time, to tease, to express amazement, just to exclaim something.

Or when she masturbated. Especially then.

She’d managed not to use it at work. Not that often, at least. Just once or twice. Her co-workers had looked at her oddly, but that was it.

Cathy grabbed trashbag and hurried down the stairs, eager to be out of her apartment. They dumped their bags in the dumpster behind the building, and headed back in. Cathy flopped down on the couch. “You are going to have to tell me sometime why I hate being in my apartment.”

“Eventually. If you are still interested... But for now, just know you are welcome to relax at my place anytime.”

“So you’ve told me.” She did just that a moment, watching him watch her.

Ethan hadn’t tried pushing her further once since their conversation on Monday. Not that she’d noticed, anyway. It had even been her idea to clean out her kitchen. He was willing to strengthen what they had done already, but not a single step further.

Cathy needed new fodder for her nightly sessions alone in her room. And... It was time to let him know she’d adjusted, and was liking it so far. A half-formed resolution came to the surface, and she steeled her nerves to try it. “But you haven’t really done anything to truly relax me since Monday in the hallway.”

He leaned forward, recognizing her invitation. “Would you like me to relax you like I did then?”

“I wouldn’t mind.” She shifted her gaze nonchalantly, and stretched. “Working in my kitchen has gotten me all tense. The bad smells, just being upstairs...”

“Well, we don’t want you tense.” He sat up a little straighter, as his voice became lower, even, gentler. “Do you remember the field I took you to then? On Monday, in the hallway? Close your eyes and try to remember it. Remember the blue sky, the green grass, the feel of the soft breeze, the scent of grass and clover. Send your mind there, and lie back and relax, letting all your tensions, all your worries, all your fears go. Just let the them float away on the breeze.”

“Listen to my voice telling you of the world, and reminding you of who you are. You trust my voice. You trust me. Completely, totally, with every part of you. I am safety, I am security. You hate to be away from me, and are always glad to be back near me, to see me, to hear my voice. My touch brings comfort, pleasure, calm when you are worried, rest when you are tired. My presense is stablity in an unstable world.”

“A world of danger, that you strive to escape. A world where people eat beef, which is unsettling to you, reminding you of eating yourself. You hate beef: it scares you, and unsettles you. You know others eat it, and that it is nothing to them, but to you it feels like canabalism. It is like anyone eating it is a hunter and you are prey. Prey that is not allowed to defend itself.”

“But I am here, as saftey in this world. I am someone who you know will always protect and nurture you, no matter what. You can feel safe in that, and you can bring that feeling of safety and peace you have found back with you when you awake, refreshed and tension-free. You may awake whenever you feel like it, having enjoyed our trip together.”

Cathy let herself awake slowly, stretching and enjoying the peace she’d just been given. She opened her eyes to look at Ethan, who was looking at her intently from his chair. “That’s it? I let you hypnotize me, and all you do is make me trust you?”

He laughed, and walked over to kiss her on the forehead, spending a moment to brush her hair back. “That is more than enough, I think. You have a habit of doing more with a little, and I want to see what you will make of this.” He walked away.

Cathy had been luxurating in the feel of his touch. Now she sat up, worried. “Where are you going?”

He stopped, looking over his shoulder. “To make supper. You can follow if you want.”

Drawn by a thread she could not quite define, Cathy rose and followed, to be near Ethan as he made her dinner.

Cathy had initially been disappointed in what Ethan had done with the opportunity to hypnotize her. It sounded like nothing more than ‘like me.’

But...

She had found herself trailing him everywhere he went. He’d had to ask for her not to follow him into the bathroom, for God’s sake! And, instead of walking away, she’d just waited for him right outside the door, and smilled when he’d exited, following him to his next stop. Any time his glance was on her she was happy and glad, and she just couldn’t stop herself from showing that.

He’d had to gently remind her that he was going to bed, and even then she’d stood outside his door for a moment before leaving. Now, not only did she have a reason to not be in her rooms, (whatever that was, she still hadn’t found out), she also had a specific reason to be in his.

Because they were his, and even just that knowledge made them a place of safety and comfort.

And that kiss on the forehead hadn’t been the only time he’d touched her either. Before, they touched as often as two people normally did, but tonight he’d seemed to enjoy patting her on the head, running a hand down her back, or just placing a hand on her shoulder. Nothing sexual or forward, really, just... touch.

That touch which sent shivers up her spine, every time. Even when he was just moving the hair out her eyes she found herself leaning into it, prolonging it. She didn’t need it, especially, she just liked it. A lot.

She bucked against her hands a moment as she realized that: A. She would have happily followed him right into bed without thinking to hard about it, and B. That the ‘touch effect’ would work with any touch he gave her.

With that one hypnotic command he’d completely wrapped her around his finger. She would come when he called, eager to see him, and leave when required, waiting for a chance to see him again.

Cathy tried on the idea of her crawing around behind Ethan, his tame and docile little pet, eager to be touched, to be petted by her owner....

...And when her owner would take those hands, and with that magic touch, milk her, stroking her udders, pulling her...

She blacked out.

As she drifted back into half-conciousness before drifting off to sleep, Cathy had two thoughts:

She’d just called Ethan her ‘owner’.

And she really was loosing it.

The thoughts made her smile.

Catherine was in hell.

She didn’t let it show. She smiled and talked to her ‘friends’ around her, trying not to enter the conversation too much, but not be conspicuous by not participating.

It was Friday night.

James had picked the venue this time around. He didn’t have a big house, so as usual he had picked a restaurant for them all to meet at. On him; he could afford it. His favorite restaurant in town.

LongHorn Steakhouse.

Ethan must have known this last night, she decided. That was why he put in that bit on eating beef being unsettling.

He hadn’t even let her sit next to him. She was across the table from him.

At least this way she could look at him.

She didn’t resent him for it. Cathy found that odd, but she could no more resent him for this than she could for feeling uneasy in her own apartment. She trusted him: he was her stability, her security, and if he thought this was best she couldn’t question that.

But... The waitress came and took their orders. Bethany (’Bethany has breasts, I have udders’ Cathy repeated to herself) had a sirloin salad. Everyone else was having steak of some sort or another.

Cathy timidly ordered a grilled chicken salad. It was the least meaty thing she could think of on the menu. She fought to keep herself from mooing in distress as the orders went around the table.

Steak.

Steak.

Steak and shrimp.

“I’ll have the chicken tenders.” Cathy looked across the table at the voice. It was Ethan.

He got teased for it. He shrugged and said “I like their chicken tenders. Maybe I’ll have steak next time.” He shot a glance at Cathy, telling her it wasn’t true.

That he wasn’t one of them. That he wasn’t a predator.

That he would protect her.

She didn’t remember much of the meal, but she watched her protector distract the predators around her, talking with them, pretending to be one of them. Keeping their attention away from the prey across the table.

She made it as far as the car without breaking down. Ethan got in, buckled his seat belt, and turned to her.

She clutched him and held on tight, sobbing and mooing her distress.

“It’s all right. It’s all right; they won’t hurt you, you are out now, hush, it is all right, they are gone now.” He held her to himself with one arm, and stroked her head with the other.

Cathy gradually calmed down, Ethan’s words and touch and presence telling her that she was ok. That nothing had happened. That she was safe, secure. Defended. Protected.

“You did this on purpose.“ she accused, pouting and rational again. The terror was gone, at least for the moment. She didn’t really object. She just needed to say it, because it was true. To hear his reasons.

“Yes, and I am a bit sorry.” He said, still holding her and petting her hair. “But I wanted you to have a chance to look to me for safety. So I could show you I am your safety.”

He was. She had no doubts about that.

“Are you ready to go home?”

Home, safety, and away from this place of danger. She nodded.

Catherine tossed in her bed, trying to get comfortable. After that horrid restaurant, it had been a nice night. They had curled up on Ethan’s couch to watch a movie, and Cathy had nearly fallen asleep on his shoulder. He’d had to prod her awake to wish her goodnight.

It had been with some reluctance that she’d gone to her room.

Cathy knew she was nearing, if not past, the point of no return. A single week and she was quite nearly his domesticated pet. She hated to be without him, and would follow him around for no other reason than to be in his presence. He was her protector, her safety.

But he hadn’t even started getting her ready to be milked...

He hadn’t even looked at her udders yet...

She turned over again. The images of her owner milking her weren’t coming this night. She’d nearly fallen asleep in his arms, but now she couldn’t even seem to clear her head.

She hated having to be so far from him. Her mind still remembered all those happy predators at the restaurant...

Cathy checked her clock. She had been in bed all of about twenty minutes.

She flopped back again, trying to clear her head. Either that or fill it with images of what Ethan had promised to do. But she couldn’t focus, and she couldn’t get clear.

Eventually she got up. Went to get a glass of milk from Ethan’s fridge. Maybe that would help settle her.

She padded down the stairs quietly, as always relieved to be in his apartment, and out of hers. His was safe, hers...

Well, to carry the metaphor, hers was wild. She felt better domestic. Tamed.

She could see the living room from the kitchen, and something caught her eye. She walked in to investigate.

There was a large basket with a cushion in it, covered in a blanket, sitting against the wall. Ethan’s bedroom wall.

It was large enough for her to curl up in. She walked up to it, ran her hand over the blanket.

It looked soft and warm. And safe.

He had left this for her.

This was her bed.

She didn’t think twice about it; she just got in, curled up, and within moments was fast asleep.

Ethan quitely looked down at the sleeping form by the side of his bedroom door. Cathy had come down in the night, just as he’d hoped.

He pulled the blanket up to cover her better, and ran his hand gently over her hair. She looked so peaceful and happy curled up there, in the biggest ‘pet basket’ he’d been able to find at the pet shop.

He hoped she was comfortable. He’d played a nasty trick on her yesterday, but it had been important. Her reactions in the resturant and the car were perfect; she was treating him as ‘safety’ and starting to react to all else as ‘unsafe’.

But Ethan did admit it was his fault she’d been terrified at the resturant. His suggestion about beef feeling like ‘canabalism’ that had set her off.

He’d thought about making it all meat, but his research had told him that would probably be a bad idea for a woman who would be milked regularly. Protien and fats were important nutrients in milk, and both were easier to get from meat.

Right now, while she was asleep, he could apologise for that trick. For making her scared of her friends. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t nice.

It was a strong step in domestication though: to get her to distrust the ‘wild’.

Still, hurting Cathy... It was not something Ethan had liked doing. He was her protector, and was coming to enjoy that role. She’d come to him in the afternoons, ready to give him any and all troubles she’d had during the day, and she’d always admire him for taking them from her.

The noise-generator in her bedroom that he’d placed yesterday he was less worried about. That she could handle. All it did was remove the last sancuary she had in her ‘own’ apartment. But she’d already stopped spending time there when she could avoid it; quite likely it wouldn’t have taken more than a few more days to get her to sleep downstairs on her own. This was just faster, and reinforced the new patterns in her life more.

He found himself just staring at her peaceful, vunerable, form, and shook himself off. He should get moving, start getting the morning going.

In just a moment.

Catherine woke slowly to the scent of bacon frying. Her first thought was that breakfast smelled good.

Her second was that she wasn’t in her bed.

She blinked her eyes open, looking around from where she was curled up and remembered. She hadn’t been able to sleep. She’d come downstairs, and seen a bed set out for her...

She yawned and stretched. Despite getting to sleep late, she’d slept well.

She got up, and walked the few steps the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Morning, lambkin. Sleep well?”

“Yes, once I came downstairs...”

Ethan just smiled. “That’s good to know. I wasn’t sure if the bed I picked out was big enough. Pancakes will be just a moment. If you need to use the bathroom first they should be done by the time you get out.”

Cathy didn’t want to leave, but her bladder decided her.

Ethan smiled as he tucked Cathy in for the night. She hadn’t gone upstairs all day, not even for a change of clothes. He hadn’t brought it up, but all she apparently slept in was an over-large t-shirt. Which she had worn without thinking about it all day. He doubted she wore a bra underneath.

He was absolutely sure she didn’t wear panties. He’d known that by the end of breakfast: She’d tucked her knees up on the chair while watching him.

She’d given no hint that she realized she was putting on a show, and Ethan wasn’t about to inform her.

He shut his door behind himself, patting her one last time on the shoulder as he said goodnight.

It was tempting to ask if she wanted to share his bed. He had very little doubts at this point about whether he could talk her into it, and after a day like today it would release a certain amount of pent-up... pressure.

She’d rarely left his side. Breakfast had been the start, and then he’d gone to the living room to read, listen to music, and just relax.

He’d purposefully sat in the easy chair instead of the couch today, just to see what she would do. It had become a natural habit for her to curl up next to him on the couch whenever he sat down over the past week, and he wanted to deny her that habit.

She’d tried several different positions over the course of the day: the couch nearest him, reading over his shoulder, on his armrest (he’d vetoed that one quite firmly), and finally just sitting at his feet, against the chair.

It had been pleasant to let his hand just run through her hair...

Which she had never styled all day. That would have taken her from him for too long.

Not that she was thinking about it.

The important thing was that she had never really noticed what she was doing. She was just following him around, constantly within at least sight of him, often within touching distance, and content to just be there. Occasionally he’d asked if she could get him something, and she had, quickly and without complaint or comment.

If someone had seen her there would be little question that she was his pet. And content to be so.

But the image Ethan brought to bed—stroking himself to relieve some of that pressure—was of her on her hands and knees in front of him, when at one point mid-afternoon she’d leaned forward to retrieve some item for him. Her shirt had ridden up: it had caught on her hips and she’d presented a gloriously nude ass to him just for a moment.

It was going to be hard to keep his self-imposed rule not to take her until she had been milked.

Cathy, outside Ethan’s door, heard the groan of bedsprings and wondered if he was thinking of her. She most definitely was thinking of him.

Today had not been erotic, in the conventional sense of the word. In fact, over the course of the day, she’d rarely even thought about sex. To the point when she realized that she’d been showing him her panty-less crotch all day she didn’t think anything of it.

She trusted him absolutely. He was her safety, and he would never hurt her. She was comfortable in his presence, and she’d been comfortable without panties. This was her sleep-wear, after all. Chosen for comfort.

So what was there to worry or be embarrassed about? The idea that she should be either had never even crossed her mind.

Now, though, curled up in bed, reviewing the day in her mind...

She still wasn’t worried or embarrassed. And he’d never really done anything untoward. Just watched her with a smile. Or a caress now and then. Nothing she would object to. Far from it: she was glad of any attention he gave her.

But, now, curled up in her pet-bed at his door, she could look at it objectively. Review what she had done, what she’d been all day, and how Ethan had reacted.

He’d treated her like a pet. Or at least something very close.

She was acting like his pet. Or something very close.

The idea... This was her choice. She could say no right now. Walk into his bedroom and say the deal was off, that she wanted to sleep in her own bed, in her own apartment, upstairs. Given the sounds she could barely hear, she’d be interrupting, but she could do it.

But what she really wanted right now was for her owner to call her into his bed, and for him to play with her... To join him instead of interrupting him.

The idea was... Well, Cathy found one advantage of curling up in bed was that she could reach herself easier. And the reason she didn’t wear panties to bed was that they got in the way, after all.

Her moans joined with those she barely heard through the wall.

Monday morning Catherine woke to Ethan softly shaking her. “Morning, sleepyhead. You need to get up so you can go to work.”

The thought ran through her head that this was a far better way to wake up then the incessent buzzing of her alarm. And seeing her owner’s face first thing in the morning was about the best way to start the day that she could think of.

Ethan rocked back on his heels. “Go get washed up. I’ll have breakfast ready for you when you are done.” He stood, and offered his hand to help her up. She took it.

Once she was on her feet he headed for the kitchen. Cathy headed for the bathroom.

Inside she found her cosmetics on the counter, as well as a set of work-clothes all ready for her, and realized she was glad she was not going to have to go upstairs to get ready for work.

And relieved that Ethan had solved a problem she hadn’t even thought about.

She stepped into the shower, and started washing off the weekend’s accumulated grime. Had she really gone all weekend without a shower? She could hardly believe it, but it was true. She’d washed her hands, and her face, but...

Her hair took a lot of work this morning.

Other than that she hadn’t been really dirty: staying in meant she wasn’t as active or attracting dirt the way she might otherwise.

Dressed, washed, and with make-up on she took her place at the kitchen table. “So, ready for work?” Ethan asked, as he slid an omlette onto her plate.

“I think so. I can’t believe you let me go the whole weekend without bathing.”

“If you’d needed it, I would have made sure you got washed.” He said, planting a kiss at her hairline, then turning to start his own breakfast.

“Yeah but...” She’d turned her attention to the food in front of her, and just now noticed a new addition to her place setting: a single small pill next to her glass. “What’s this?” She asked, picking it up.

Ethan let a grin grow on his face. “Hormone pill. It makes your body think it is pregnant, late stages.”

“And why...” Cathy trailed off, as she started to think of the answer on her own.

Ethan vocalized it. “So that when you stop taking it your body does the natural thing and produces something for the baby to drink.” He paused. “Milk.”

He watched her carefully as she reached, blindly, for the glass so she could take the pill. She hadn’t looked away by the time she put the glass back. “And how long till it works?”

He shrugged. “A couple weeks, at minimum. There are other ways to induce lactation, but this is probably the most predictable.” He turned back to the stove, to stir what he was making. “If you change your mind, milk production will shut off in a few days if you don’t encourage it.”

“Ok.” Cathy wasn’t sure what else to say. This was probably the most definate step she had taken in this entire thing, really. Trapeasing about half-naked without thinking about it really didn’t quite compare to intentially changing her body chemistry so that she could be milked, when the time came. The former was just passively lowering her guard, this was an admission that the time would come. That she would be Ethan’s... milk-cow.

She played with the cowbell, pondering.

Ethan placed his plate at his side of the table, and sat down. “What’s up? You’d better get eating if you want to get to work on time.”

Cathy shook herself out of it. “Oh, just pondering. Thinking about the pill you just gave me.” She smiled up at him. “Is it safe to stop taking, once you start?”

“Sure. It’s basically just estrogen. About the same as a birth-control pill, really.” He shrugged. “So, how did I do in picking an outfit for you to go to work in?”

Catherine looked down at herself, actually taking stock of the outfit for the first time. “Not bad, actually. It’s not my favorite work clothes, but it works.”

“I’ll have to do your laundry, this looked like the best in your closet.”

“Yeah, my better clothes are all probably in the laundry. I guess I forgot to do them over the weekend.”

“No problem.” He stood up, handing her a lunch. “Have a good day at the office.”

“Thanks.” And with that, Cathy headed out.

Cathy had not had a good day at the office. Not that anything had gone wrong, really: it was just a normal day. The standard work, gossip, and the rest. But she had spent all day wanting something that wasn’t there. Something she hadn’t been able to define until lunch.

Lunch had not been good. A group had gotten together, and they’d all decided to go to lunch together. Cathy had seen no reason not to go along, and they weren’t going anyplace special: just the cafe around the corner.

But... One of the guys had gotten a burger, and another meatloaf. Nothing major, and it certainly didn’t bring up the opressive levels of feeling that everyone ordering steak had, but it was still beef, and Cathy couldn’t shake that. She’d wished she had her protector with her: Ethan.

Which was when she realized what she’d been missing all day: That feeling of safety that she’d had all weekend. Here, at work, she was alone and on her own, with no one to look out for her but herself. Which she could do, after all (she’d done it for years), but...

But it felt better to have someone to protect her. To know she was safe.

So she was looking forward to getting home, and she laughed at herself when she realized she was picturing the pet-bed or sitting at Ethan’s feet when she pictured ‘home’ instead of picturing her own apartment.

Which, after all, she hadn’t been in for three days. (And had barely been in for a week before that.)

Ethan had his door open to the hallway, and saw her from his living room where he was seated. “So, how was work?”

She dropped her bag in the hallway, and went over to him. “Ok. Nothing too new.”

He sat up a little straighter. “Doesn’t sound ‘ok’.”

Cathy sat at his feet, already feeling better. “Oh, I just... Your hypnosis had some effects.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I just... Well, I never was quite able to relax and let myself work. I felt ‘unsafe’ and slightly nervous all the time.” She rolled her eyes. “And then at lunch someone ordered a hamburger...”

“And you felt even less safe. Well, you are safe now, and you can relax. Here, turn around.” He slid down out of the chair. “I’ve been known to give a good backrub. Let’s get some of that tension out.”

Cathy aquiesed: His touch alone would help her relax, after all, and her shoulders were tense. “Not going to just hypnotize me to remove it?”

“No more suggestions until you work the last one into your system.” He slid her jacket off so he could get to her shoulders easier. “Besides, giving backrubs is fun.”

“Mmmm. Backrubs, cooking, laundry, is there anything you don’t do?”

“Lots of things. I’ve never had patience for gardening, for instance. But I always wanted to be self-sufficent. Here, your bra-strap is getting in the way.” He unlatched it through her shirt. “That’s better.”

“Where did you learn to give back-rubs?” Cathy asked, arcing her back to stretch it and allow him more access.

“Cousins. Just happened to start giving them while we were growing up.” He was working his way down and back up her back now.

“You learned well.”

“Thanks. I just pay attention to what is under my fingers.”

They just sat a moment, as Ethan worked on Catherine’s back.

Ethan’s hand slipped, catching an edge of Cathy’s shirt underneath his fingers and pusing it into her, pinching her slightly. “Sorry. Caught on the cloth a moment.”

“Would it be better without?”

“Never really tried. Probably.”

“Here.” She took a moment to shrug her top off. “You tell me.”

“Ok.” He continued working. “It’s easier.”

“Oh, moooo.” She chuckled a bit. ”I think it is better.”

Then she looked down at herself, and laughed a bit harder. She grabbed the bra hanging loosely on her chest, and pulled it off. “There. Now I’m topless. That was the point, wasn’t it?”

Ethan chuckled a little. “One of them, yes. How much more do you need?”

“I... Oh, I guess it depends on how far we are going. If this is just a backrub, we can stop anytime. If you want more...”

“Well, then we are probably done.” He finished off what he was doing, and sat back a moment.

Cathy turned around to face him. “I don’t get you. I mean, I just offered to have sex with you and you turned me down. And I know you find this hot: you told me so. So what is it? I’m even washed today.”

He smiled. “I made myself a promise: I don’t get you until we are done. Until I’m milking you.” He paused. “Or you quit. If you quit but want to be my girlfriend, that’s ok too.”

“Is that supposed to be an incentive for me to continue, or for me to quit right now?”

That brought a laugh. “It’s not supposed to be an incentive to you at all. It is to keep me focused. So I don’t get sidetracked.”

“And what is this then? If it isn’t a sidetrack?” Cathy’s bare chest was explaination enough of what ‘this’ ment.

“Direct progress. Livestock doesn’t wear clothes: I need to get you used to that. And...”

“Yes?”

He blushed. ”I dressed you this morning, or at least choose your outfit. And I’m undressing you now. An animal would never dress itself, but it’s owner might put clothes on it occasionally, depending on the situation.”

“So you wanted this to be a regular thing? Me being undressed by you?”

“Eventually.”

Cathy considered that for a moment, then she stood up, and held her hands out. “Well, you’re not done.”

He looked up at her, and laughed. “Are you sure about this?”

She nodded. “It’s not like there is anything you haven’t seen at this point, after last weekend. And... I trust you. I know part of that is your hypnosis, but it doesn’t really matter to me anymore. I’m not your milk-cow yet, but... I am your pet, mostly. If you want your pet naked, I don’t care.” A sly smile grew. “I’ll even enjoy it. A bit, at least. After all, I told you that I found this hot, after all.”

“That you did.” Ethan said, standing up. He ran his hand down her unresisting side, sending a shiver through Cathy. “So... Tell me, pet, who am I? What do you call me, in your head?”

“Owner.”

“Not Ethan?”

“No... Well, sometimes, still. But not always, and ‘owner’ is becoming more common.”

He was teasing her with touch; a stroke here, a tap there, fingertips resting here. “And how do you feel about your owner?”

“I... Trust him. I enjoy being with him, following him around. He is my safety, my protector. My... My world is empty without him.”

He drew close, and whispered in her ear: “Do you love him?”

Cathy’s mind whirled. Why was he asking this question? What did he want? What should she say?

What was the truth?

He drew back, circling, letting her come up with the answer on her own. It came slowly. “I... I have never felt this way about anyone before. I have been in love, I think, and this is something different. Before... It was that I wanted to spend time with them. Know their point of view on any issue... See the world through their eyes. Now... I don’t want to see the world as you see it. I am enjoying letting you shape my vision. I hate to be away from you. I... Fear being away from you. I have given you control over me, and I trust... I trust that you will protect me. That I will never need to worry, with you there to take the worries for me. Everything I am is being lost, to what you have chosen for me. And... I am glad to be that. Glad to please my owner, in any and every way. Nothing I do is enough to repay what you have given me. Yes, I think that is love, of a sort. I believe I love my owner.”

He stopped in front of her, a mere breath away. “Good.”

Then Ethan, her owner, kissed her.

Catherine returned the kiss with all the feeling she had just discovered inside herself. Then Ethan stepped back, a full step. Cathy found she had never moved her arms.

“Time to undress my pet.” Ethan declared, then proceeded to make good on the declaration.

It wasn’t perfunctory, but neither was it the act of a lover. Ethan did not strip her: he removed her clothes, carefully, but with nothing else implied. The purpose wasn’t to have her nude, but to remove her clothing.

When he was done, Ethan took her arms and lowered them. “You can move now, if you wish.”

Cathy couldn’t take her eyes off her owner’s face.

Suddenly she turned, blushing. For a moment she was a girl naked for the first time in front of her lover.

When she turned back, Ethan was in his chair, a book in hand. Cathy carefully sat down at his feet, and felt his fingers work themselves into her hair, playing with it and massaging her scalp.

She closed her eyes, and enjoyed being petted by her owner.

Catherine had remained mainly silent for the rest of the evening. Ethan hadn’t asked her any questions, and she had nothing to say. She was glad of the silence: she needed the time to think. To consider what she had said.

She did love him. But not as a woman loved a man: she loved as a pet loved it’s owner.

Which... was proper. Of course.

He hadn’t said how he felt about her, and she was afraid to ask. Afraid to know. Was she his girlfriend? His crush? His slave? His pet? Just another girl?

Meanwhile... She was naked. And aware of it. She had intended that, because he thought it was a step in... Her domestication. Her turning into his milk-pet.

Ethan wasn’t bothering to hide that he liked to look at her. But he also didn’t spend his time staring at her. He treated it as... Normal. Something she would do regularly.

She had agreed to be naked regularly, hadn’t she? In fact... She’d agreed that he had the right to dress and undress her as he pleased. Whenever he pleased.

Cathy felt unsettled, unsure of exactly what she had done, what she had agreed to. Only the presence of her owner stabilized her, kept her calm.

She was safe while he was around. He would protect her.

So she stayed near him.

Which led to her speaking again. Ethan was turning out the lights, preparing the house for the night. Heading back towards his room.

He stopped, as he had the last couple of nights, at Cathy’s bed. To tuck her in.

And suddenly... This wasn’t enough. The pet wanted more, so Cathy coughed and spoke: “Um, owner? May I... move my bed?”

Ethan cocked his head and looked at her. “That depends. Where do you want to move it too?”

Cathy found her heart fluttering, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. It didn’t work. “I... want to put it in your room.”

He opened his door. “Show me where.”

She walked in, looking around to see the layout of his bedroom. She had never been inside it before. His bed sat to one side, against the wall, on it’s own.

She went to stand at it’s base. “Right here, if I may. Owner.”

“At the foot of my bed?”

She blushed and nodded.

He paused, letting Cathy stew as he considered and she stood nude at the foot of his bed.

Finally he nodded. “Ok. Provided you behave yourself. Get your bed.”

“Thank you.” She bounced and ran out the door, grabbing her bed and bringing it back to it’s new location, positioning it carefully so that it wasn’t in the way.

She curled up and covered herself while he shut the door, then he came over and made sure she was tucked in comfortably. “Sleep well, my pet.” He said, and gave her a tender kiss on the forehead. She moo’d softly in pleasure, and closed her eyes.

He turned out the lights, and Cathy opened her eyes again, just a little. Through sleepy eyes she watched her owner shed his day clothes and don his sleep-wear: a pair of boxer shorts.

Then she closed her eyes, and slept soundly.

Tuesday Cathy couldn’t concentrate at work. Her mind kept going back to last night, and to what she was becoming.

He, Ethan, her owner, had dressed her this morning, like he had undressed her last night: as if this was something he was doing for her, that she could not be expected to handle on her own.

This was after breakfast, which she’d eaten in the nude.

Her mind was developing a pleasant fog while she was at home: she was safe, and she trusted Ethan to take care of anything. So she could... drift.

The fog lifted as she drove to work. Which meant she was more like herself, or at least like the person she had been. But it also meant she had to worry, to think about what she was doing, what would happen to her.

Not always a pleasant sensation.

But right now she was thinking about what was happening to her at home. Walking around nude had been... Well, natural. As natural as sitting at Ethan’s feet.

Which really should worry her.

And the idea that she was falling in love with him. That she already loved him, was willing to sacrifice anything for him...

She had to admit to herself, she couldn’t imagine wanting to feel any other way.

When she thought about it, she knew what had happened last night. After that moment when she blushed, when she—just for a moment—had seen him as a man and herself as a woman, she’d switched her mindset. She’d made an effort to think of him as ‘owner’ and herself as ‘pet’. So she didn’t have to deal with the idea of her and him as man and woman. So she didn’t have to think of him as...

So she didn’t have to think about the fact that she had offered to have sex with him.

The offer had been genuine, and unplanned. She’d barely even noticed it until she had already said it. It was... What she had wanted at that moment.

And now, thinking over last evening, over everything she’d done...

It was still what she wanted. If she sat here and thought about it too long, she was going to have a stain on her skirt.

It was an incentive to say ‘stop’, if he’d make her his lover. If he’d keep her.

As his sex-pet.

She admitted that was what she was dreaming of right now. She wasn’t going to say no: not if it meant he might make her ‘girlfriend’. ‘Girlfriend’ was a step backwards from what she already was: his pet.

Cathy wasn’t worried about the fog in her mind: she liked the fog. She’d asked for the fog. And being milked...

She still looked forward to it. A lot.

For that matter, she looked forward to a lot. She hadn’t been in a mindset to appreciate it last night, but the sight of Ethan naked was worth remembering. Setting his own schedule, he could afford to keep in shape, and did.

Still... Last evening, as much as she’d enjoyed it, hadn’t been what she wanted, not quite. It wasn’t Ethan’s fault: Ethan had been perfect. (Well, aside from keeping his promise.) The problem had been her, Cathy. She’d lost herself too much in the ‘pet’, thought of herself as too separate from her owner. Put too much of a gulf between them, inside her mind. It had kept herself from facing what her body wanted, but...

He’d admitted he wanted it too. And that he planned to have it eventually. And as pleasant as drifting in that fog was, if she was too far adrift in it sex would be... Jarring.

And, her rational (or at least human) side reminded herself why she’d gotten into this: because it was hot. Arousing. Smoke-raising from the bedsheets, leg-dribbling, body-on-fire, out of this world sexy. Giving that up was selling herself short.

And it wasn’t what her owner wanted, anyway.

So the pet/owner was going to have to change, some. How, Cathy wasn’t exactly sure, but she would have to work on it.

Which brought up the other point: this was no longer just Ethan’s project, that Cathy had agreed to. It was hers as well; She was an active participant, not just a willing one. A week ago she’d asked him to go slower, to let her adjust to each step, and now... Well, he had made her love it, as she’d asked. She was willing. Willing to do more than he’d asked.

How willing, she wasn’t exactly sure, and was a little afraid to look. Willing enough to sleep naked at the foot of his bed.

To sit naked at his feet. To let him pet her. To let him dress her. To let him undress her. To...

Cathy decided she needed to take this session into the bathroom stalls, where she could put her hands where she liked in private.

Ethan had just sat down when Cathy got home. Just as he’d planned, really. He set the book he was holding down as she came in the door.

He had carefully considered what to do when she got home. In the end, he couldn’t just treat her as a pet, not yet. She was still human too. “How was work today?” He asked, rising.

She dropped off her stuff, and came in to face him. “Fine. Nothing special. I was... distracted today.”

He moved in to unbutton her shirt. “Oh? How come?”

“I... had a lot to think about.”

“About yesterday?” He finished the buttons, and started working the blouse off, ready for resistance.

There wasn’t any. “Yes.” She blushed.

“Did you enjoy it?” Her bra was next.

“Last night or the distraction?”

Cathy’s nipples hardened under Ethan’s gaze. “I meant last night, but...”

She blushed again, and her nipples got more prominent. “I... um, yes. I enjoyed it. Both last night and the distraction.”

Ethan slid off her shoes, and decided to take a small risk. “I hope your enjoyment didn’t interfere too much with your work.”

Cathy actually moved her head for that one. “I... Um... Not too much.”

So he had been right. He started undoing her pants, forcing himself not to think about the fact that he was undressing what was obviously a fairly aroused woman. “So, did you have any specific thoughts on last night?”

Catherine obviously was thinking about what he was doing as he slid her pants down, and not what he was saying. Ethan paused a moment, looking into her face to get her to acknoledge him. “No? Yes?”

“Oh, um.” When she started talking he went back to the job, and her only remaining piece of clothing. “Yes, some. I... I decided I wasn’t treating this as a sexual experince enough.”

Ethan had to replay that in his head at half-speed before he understood it. “Ok. Anything you need me to do about it?” He said, stepping back and gathering her clothes together.

Her response was a squeek. “No.” Her voice came back for the next part. “I... think it is all in how I’m thinking about it.”

Ethan took the time of putting Cathy’s clothes away to plan his response. “If you say so. I’ll think about it as well.” He picked up his book, and moved to the couch. “What brought this thought on?”

She hesitated before deciding to join him. “Just thinking about the fact that I didn’t consider it a sexual situation yesterday. When the idea of being a naked pet under the control of an owner is a hot button of mine.”

“So thinking back on it you were hot, but you hadn’t actually been aroused at the time.” He trailed one hand down her back, from her hair.

“Yes.”

“And you felt you should be?”

The conversation was starting to sound surreal to Ethan, and he wondered what Cathy was making of it. Not that he was going to ask. Having her follow him around nude was fun, but it was much more fun to watch her try to handle herself while aroused and flustered like she was now. He wanted to adjust his underwear, but didn’t dare spoil the impression he was giving.

“Yes. I... The reason I got into this was becaue it was hot. Becaused it aroused me. Going through with it but giving that up wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” He paused for effect. “So, are you aroused now?”

She shot a glance at his face, obviously not believing the question. Ethan struggled to keep his face expressionless, but knew she could see through him. She answered anyway. “Yes. Very much so.”

“Well, you aren’t acting like it. I find the mind often accepts what the body does as ‘true’, at least where physical responses are concerned.”

“Meaning?”

“That if you are aroused, but hidding it, you will probably find yourself getting less aroused. If you want to encourage it, you need to let your body act on what it feels.” He let a grin cross his face. “Besides, an animal wouldn’t try to hide what it felt.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“What do you normally do when aroused? And letting yourself be aroused.”

“I... Usually when I am letting myself be aroused I am in my room. Playing with myself.”

“Well, there is your answer. You should play with yourself.”

“Right here?”

“Right here.”

Ethan struggled to keep himself looking like he had just suggested that she take a deep breath, and not to change the rithym or strength of his light petting. Forced himself to pretend to his pet that this was nothing more than just a logical discussion on a topic, and he had done nothing more than ask her to be herself.

Slowly Cathy let one hand slip between her legs, and she complied. He gave her a moment to feel comfortable, then asked: “There. Is that better?”

“Hmmm mmh.” He slid an arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. She turned towards him, nestling in.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Just don’t cum unless I tell you to.”

She looked up at him, then bit her lip and nodded.

“Good girl.” He opened up his book, and started to read.

Ethan wasn’t reading, though he held his book. The fact that he had one arm around a naked, masterbating, girl was distraction enough, but he also wanted to think about the conversation they had just had.

There was the obvious thought that he should take advantage of this situation. The thing in his pants certainly thought that was the thing to do.

But Cathy had said she didn’t think he was doing anything wrong. He should continue as he was. Besides, he wanted to keep his promise: This was about domesticating Cathy, turning her into a milk-pet, not just about sex. That was what they had agreed on, so that was what he needed to work towards.

To that end... Her playing with herself long-term would get in the way. However, both of them seemed to be in agreement that she should be a horny pet, ready for sex whenever her ‘owner’ wanted it. So as a short-term stopgap it was probably a good idea.

What he really needed to do was to get it established as a habit, and then deny but not break it. So she would always want to.

Not that he really minded her playing with herself, after all...

She was being quiet. Probably ‘playing’ just enough to notice, but not actually trying to get off. Since, after all, he’d forbidden her to.

Which was something else he needed to keep track of: If he forbade her, he should occasionally allow her so that she respected that ban. Which was going to be another interesting situation.

Which brought him back to that last conversation, and last night.

They had turned a real corner last night, Ethan realized. He had not expected her to volunteer to be undressed like that, and while he had eventually expected her to ask to move her bed, her doing it so soon was unexpected.

Which he should have expected. Catherine had generally thrown herself into this full-speed anyway. The fact that it was less than two weeks in and she already lived with him was more than enough to show that.

And, while she may have not have felt yesterday ‘felt’ very sexual, that had not applied to him. No man could stand at full attention continuously, but he’d sure felt like he’d tried. And it wasn’t getting any easier.

Time to make dinner.

Cathy lay curled up in her bed, trying to decide what the best way to fall asleep was. She’d played with herself near-continously since her owner had suggested it, and it was starting to take a toll on her. Physically she was tired, even though she’d switched hands and only played lightly. Mentally...

Mentally, this was tying her in knots. She wanted the release of not having release. She needed more so it wouldn’t overwhem her with too much.

It had definately been a sexually charged evening.

The immidate question was whether to stop, or to try to speed up. She wasn’t sure she could sleep without release at this point, but on the other hand Ethan had forbidden release.

And it wasn’t if he wouldn’t hear her. She was sleeping at his feet, after all. At her own request, no less...

Eventually wearyness overtook her, and she slept.

Work was not working.

First off, Cathy was still horny from last night. She never had gotten release, and the memory of playing with herself under Ethan’s direction and eye kept coming back to her.

Secondly, the ‘safety effect’ of being in Ethan’s presense (or, at the moment, not being in his presense) was just getting stronger. She was almost jumping at shadows all day.

She’d managed to turn down going to BurgerKing for lunch. That would have been a disaster.

She was looking forward to getting home. Home where her owner would take care of her, take her clothes off, pet her, cuddle her, feed her. Home where she would be safe. Home where she didn’t have to worry, where she could enjoy herself.

A part of her worried about this a bit. If this got any worse, Catherine knew she was going to have trouble keeping her job. And it was getting worse, every day, as far as she could tell.

Of course, most pets didn’t have a job...

Was she really that into this, that she would just give up her job and life to live full time as Ethan’s pet?

And could she get to the bathroom fast enough to keep from playing with herself in public with that image?

Cathy felt the cares of the day fall off her shoulders as she walked through the door and set down her bag. She was home, she was safe, it didn’t matter what had happened at the office anymore.

She looked around for what did matter: her owner. In a moment he appeared, walking into the living room. “You’re home early.”

“I guess I left a little early...” Not more than ten minutes or so.

She eagerly headed for him, as he checked his watch. “Hmm. I guess I let time get away from me.”

He started to unbotton her blouse, after slipping her jacket off her shoulders. This was Cathy’s favortite time of the day, as she transfered from out to in, ‘wild’ to ‘tame’, from human to pet. Also, it was one of the few times a day when she was gaurnteeded her owner’s undivided attention for a few minutes.

“So, how was work?”

Catherine split her attention between her owner’s hands and his words, trying to make sure she missed not a nuance of either. “Better and worse than yesterday. I mostly was able to concentrate—aside from a couple of times—but...”

“Yes?” He was working her pants off.

“I felt... unsafe again. Like I was alone against the world. I think the effect is getting stronger. I wanted to be home, where my owner would protect me.”

“It sounds like this worried you.”

“A little. I was, well, ‘jumpy’, at work, and I’m just getting jumpier. If it gets much worse I’m going to have problems just behaving normally in the office.”

Ethan finished sliding her panties off. Absently, Cathy let one hand stray to her pubis.

“And how did you feel about that?” Her owner left her standing, trailing his hand down her back, gently.

“I... I’m not sure. The idea of being your pet full-time is exciting, but at the same time the idea of giving up my life as a human is scary. I’m not sure what I want.”

“But you have gone this far. You admit you are my pet right now.”

“Yes.” The admission itself was a blast of pleasure.

“And you aren’t stopping me from pushing you further.”

“No. I am not.”

“Cathy, take a seat.” Her owner led her to the couch, guiding her to sit down. He didn’t sit next to her though: Instead, he sat on the coffee table in front of her. “Look at me. Look me right in the eyes. Look into them, and see what you are to me inside them. You know you can trust me, that I will always protect you. I feed you, I care for you, I shelter you. Look into my eyes, and feel that comfort. You trust me. I am making your fantasies come true.”

It was true. It was all true. A part of her told Cathy she was being hypnotized by her owner again, but no part of her felt that was a cause for alarm. He would take away the worry that plauged her. She was sure of it, and eager for it. She relaxed, accepting the new commands into her thoughts.

“You told me you have fantasies of being a cow, being milked. You told me that you would agree to the cow’s bargin. That any animal would welcome that bargin. You welcome the bargin. You welcome being my cow. You welcome being my pet. You can face the world on your own when I tell you that you must, but you prefer to let me face it for you. You prefer to let me keep you safe.”

Of course she did. Why else was she doing this?

“Letting go, letting me protect you, the knowledge that you have a protector, all of this is arousing to you. It makes you hot. Knowing that you are owned makes you horny, ready for sex. Ready for sex with your owner. That is why you agreed to this, after all. Because being my milk-pet is arousing. Arousing because you get milked, and arousing because you are owned. You are aroused because I own you. You are aroused just being around me, as a pet. You are aroused because you are safe to be aroused: I make you safe, so you can be aroused.”

Which was why she had fingered her clit all afternoon yesterday. Because this whole situation was arousing her.

“You enjoy letting go of your control, of your humanity. You enjoy placing it in my hands, so that I decide how human you are. And now, I am going to take one more part of that into my control. From now on, just like I decide when and if you are dressed, I decide when and if you stand as a human, or as an animal. I decide if you stand on two legs or four. If I put you on two legs, you can walk around just like normal. If I put you on four, you can only crawl. If I put you on four legs, you will stay on four legs until I put you on two again. You understand that this is just another part of our agreement, and the knowledge that I have this control over you arouses you. You trust me with it, absolutely. Just like you trust me with the rest of your life. I am your protector, I am your safety. You can see it in my eyes. You can see who I am making you into. Look away now, and remember what you have seen.”

Cathy broke her gaze, blinking as her eyes were dry.

Ethan stood up, and moved away from where she sat. Cathy followed him with her eyes, still working through what he had said. “Come here, pet.”

She stood and walked to him. He took her wrists and bent down, planting her hands on the floor. Cathy knelt as he did so, coming to all fours naturally.

Her owner took a seat on the couch, and patted the cushion next to him. Cathy crawled eagerly to the seat, and worked her way up onto it, seating herself on her haunches, with her hands—her front feet—planted in front of her.

“There now. Do you have any more concerns?”

“No.” She didn’t: she didn’t have to worry. Ethan would take care of it. But... “So, I am quitting my job?”

“Eventually. Not just yet, though.”

“So how does this help me with being jumpy?”

He turned to her and smiled. “I think you won’t worry about it so much tomorrow. You can handle it, if you have to be away from me I know.”

Cathy wasn’t quite sure she understood, but if her owner said so it must be true. She trusted him.

She just wished she had hands to play with herself with.

Ethan chuckled to himself as he watched Cathy pad into his bedroom after him. She’d followed him around all evening on her hands and knees. It had been a bit of a thrill, really.

And it was kinda funny how she still talked normally—well, normally for the last week or so—while crawling at his feet. Ethan had made her talk tonight. Not just about what they were doing, but discuss the TV show they watched, the news, all the normal stuff he’d always liked to talk about with friends.

He could tell it was messing with her head, being treated more ‘human’ than she’d been treated by him in a while, while at the same time having to act more animal than she ever had in her life.

She’d almost complained, he thought, when he put her plate of food on the floor, and made her eat it without the use of her hands. Just for a moment, there had passed a look across her face that said she thought this was humiliating.

It was quickly followed by one that said it was arousing. That one won.

He’d had two main goals in his hypnosis tonight, besides the crawling: to emphasize her trust in him (and agreement with this), and to supercharge her arousal.

He hoped he’d worded it right for the ‘You can face the world when you must’ to work so that she could work for a little while longer. Not that he really cared: at this point they both admitted he’d done everything but actually milk her. That Cathy was his domesticated pet, ready and eager to do anything for him, and if he told her to quit tomorrow she would.

But Ethan wanted it to ‘settle’ in her mind a little more. She’d been nervous about it, after all. There was no harm in giving her a few more days to get used to the idea.

He undressed, letting his pet sit and watch him. Her attention was noticeably focused on one area.

Well, he had tried to supercharge her arousal. And he’d had her play with herself all yesterday without release. He really shouldn’t be too cruel.

Besides, she’d been a good pet.

But he wasn’t going to bend his rules, not yet. Ethan grabbed a set of boxers, and took a moment to work them on over his obstruction.

Then he knelt down, and called his pet to him. “Come here, Cathy. There, that’s a good girl. You’ve been a good girl these last couple of days.” He was petting her head, running his hand down her back.

She started to say something. “Ssh, don’t say anything. Just let your owner reward you.” She shut her mouth.

He ran his hands down her back, around the curve of her buttocks. Her arms framed her breasts, her hands hid her crotch. He moved them, forward, so that she was leaning towards him slightly and he could get past her hands.

First though he stroked her breasts, starting at the base and pulling out towards the nipples. Not in a milking-pull, not quite yet, but in a conscious imitation of it.

The result was gratifying: Cathy moaned, and tilted her head back, pushing her breasts further at him. He worked on them for a moment, then let one hand range down to her clit, playing with the little nub down there, then sliding two fingers inside and feeling her wet cunt squeeze them. He massaged her down there, first with just his fingers, then—when he discovered his thumb was next to the clit—with both fingers and thumb.

He had been using his other hand to steady himself, gripping her shoulder, lightly. He slid it up, reaching her neck, and bringing her face back so that she was looking at him again. He held the side of her face as he worked her sex, forcing her to face him.

She watched his eyes, enraptured, until her eyes rolled back and she let out the one long gasp that told Ethan that she had reached what she was looking for.

As if the clench on his fingers wouldn’t have told him on it’s own.

He drew his wet hand up her body, trailing a thin line up her center to her lips, then pressed his fingers against them.

She took them in readily, instinctively sucking her juices from his hand.

When she was done, Ethan pulled free, and stood up. “There. That’s for being a good girl.” He led her over to her bed and tucked her in.

Then he got into bed himself and—after a moment’s decision—eased his own pressure on his own.

Catherine was looking forward to what was coming next.

It had been over a week since Ethan had taken control of whether she stood or not. He’d put her upright for work, and sent her off, but mostly she stayed on all fours, walking upright just in public. Not that her owner let her out in public all that much. She’d even skipped the discussion group last week. Mostly it was just for her job.

She’d quit her job just yesterday.

Her fears were gone: Cathy had given them all up. Her owner would take care of her, and never do anything to hurt her. Part of that certainty she knew was from hypnosis, but part of it was just from what they had both done in the last few weeks. Their waking actions.

He’d fed her, washed her, dressed her, carressed her, put her to bed, woke her up, talked with her, silenced her, and just generally cared for her. She’d never had a boyfriend who was as careful to make sure he considered what she wanted.

And as for what he’d wanted... Well, she had never disagreed with it. It did make her hot and wet, after all.

In fact, that was one of the two things he had never done for her: He had never fucked her. And he had yet to milk her.

That should be fixed soon.

And, while he’d never actualy had sex with her, he had made sure she got off regularly. It was easy to remember the waves of pleasure washing over her as she stared into his face. Just looking at him reminded her of that.

And now... He’d put the bell on her neck when she’d got home yesterday. When she’d finally quit her job so she could be his pet full-time.

She had not had any more trouble with her job: She knew that her owner would never tell her to do something she couldn’t handle.

Which wasn’t the same as enjoying it...

Right now she was crawling up onto the dinning room furnature. Up onto the table, via a chair.

She was a little nervous. Would it be as good as she’d hoped? Would she please her owner?

He was petting her, stroking her, calming her. Cathy heard Ethan’s voice, murmoring calming nothings. Telling her to relax, and enjoy herself.

When he was ready, he slid a bucket under her, and turned his hands to the work of tugging on her udders. Stroking and pulling on them, telling them to relax, and do what they were meant to do. What they were for.

For a moment they didn’t respond, and Cathy worried that she might disappoint her owner. Then she felt her udders relax and respond, and heard the first drip of milk hit the pail.

At that sound, Cathy let go of every last doubt and worry in her head, and just let herself enjoy the sensation of being milked.

It was everything she’d thought it would be.

And Ethan didn’t stop until she had no more milk in her, despite how she came...