The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was a perfect day to become your own boss — your own domme — and create your first personal cow submissive. That was the plan as Michelle walked into work for the last time. She didn’t think she’d find her spine in the arms of her first lesbian lover, but Michelle couldn’t be surprised. Not anymore. This year had looked nothing like any other year of her life, and though it was rough at first, she found herself finally reaching the top of that hill. All she had to do was face one of the most terrifying women she’d ever met and tell her she was quitting, then make sure that Bella was nice and pushed along in her helpless addiction to Milk and —

The office was in some kind of quiet panic. Michelle hadn’t noticed at first — she was too lost in her own world — but it was obvious to anyone who had been working here for almost a year that someone important was coming. Based on the dread in the executive’s faces as they paced back and forth between each other’s offices, it was someone really important. Michelle rose up on tiptoes and almost teetered over and fell down, forgetting she was wearing power stilettos to try and up her ‘boss bitch’ mood. She caught herself and grabbed a neurotic looking secretary by the arm.

“Who’s coming?” she said.

“Mr. Thatcher,” the frantic woman said. “Any minute.”

Michelle froze. She had been working at Thatcher Dynamics long enough to know that Adam Thatcher rarely visited his own company. He attended board meetings by video chat and gave press conferences from the beach of his tiny island. More than being aloof and wealthy enough to be insane, he hated people. He hated traveling. He hated being anywhere but his island where he could control everything. He’d been running the company virtually for ten years.

“Hey!” The secretary said as she wrenched her arm from Michelle’s tight grip. “I gotta go.”

Michelle nodded, but the tiny woman was gone. Months ago, Michelle would have been in the same frenzied state. Mr. Thatcher could, of course, fire any of them for looking funny or smelling bad or choking too loudly. That was threat enough when dealing with an egotistical and wealthy agoraphobe. But on days like these, the executives would snap first. She’d seen one man literally beat a male underling who made black and white copies instead of colored copies.

Beat.

All her plans for the day died in that moment. Her first instinct was to find Mrs. Wasserman and see if she needed anything. But the door to her boss’s office was locked, and Bella was sitting in Michelle’s cubicle, frantically typing something up with another secretary sitting over her shoulder and watching her.

“Where’s Mrs. Wasserman?” Michelle asked as she approached the two women.

“You have an appointment?” Bella said without looking up from the computer.

“Bella, where is she?”

The curvy Italian woman looked up at Michelle. Her usual flawless olive complexion was blotchy, and it looked like she was wearing yesterday’s makeup. And yesterday’s clothes. Her curly hair was in a tight ponytail, but the curls were barely tamed.

“Oh. You. She’s uh …” Bella’s mouth stopped moving as she froze. A vacant expression claimed her as her jaw slackened, but her eyes were roaming over Michelle’s body, trying to process something. Slowly she licked her lips, adding to the more-than-crazy expression.

“Are you alright?” Michelle asked.

“Yeah. Uh.” Bella slowly shook her head and looked back at the computer, returning to work. “Headache.”

“Nausea?” Michelle asked. “Hunger? Lack of Focus? Strange taste in the mouth?”

Bella looked back at Michelle and stared at her tormentor. It was the Milk; Michelle knew it. Bella must have run out of product and was now dealing with the withdrawal symptoms. On this day of all days, another Milk addict was not going to help Eloise get through Mr. Thatcher’s visit. But before Michelle could say anything, Bella turned to the secretary still hanging over her shoulder and said, “Go see if Mr. Santiago needs anything. I need Michelle’s help with this.”

The other secretary went without complaint, and when she was out of sight, Bella’s eyes narrowed as she said, “How did you know that?”

“Did you run out of Milk?”

Bella’s eyes widened. “You fucking did this to me?”

Michelle took a deep breath as she steeled her nerves. This was what she was here to do. Not help Eloise deal with Mr. Thatcher. She was here to quit and make sure her cow was coming along nicely. Bella was a bitch, but she’d soon learn her place when she learned Michelle was her only source of Milk until Bella was helplessly addicted and her breasts grew and started producing.

“Thirsty, little cow?” Michelle asked, hoping her voice had the appropriate level of condescension to melt Bella the way that Eloise always melted her.

Bella stood up. “What the fuck did you just call me?” She marched towards Michelle, but froze at the last moment, her eyes widening as she saw something behind Michelle. “Mrs. Wasserman,” she said with all the venom out of her voice. “Do you need anything?”

Michelle turned to see her former boss — no, her current boss — behind her and holding a stack of papers. If Eloise Wasserman was stressed out about Mr. Thatcher’s approach, she showed no sign of it. She was in a cream colored pantsuit with a loser straight leg with a black blouse that was buttoned all the way up. Her dark hair was in a tight bun with two perfectly strands dangling over her ears. She was wearing her reading glasses — thick red rims that matched her lipstick in rectangular frames — that helped complete the Ice Queen look. Eloise looked like she was in perfect control of her stress levels — which she probably was. Michelle should have known better than to suspect she’d be anything but all business today.

“Copies of these,” Eloise said as she handed Bella the stack of paper. “Colored,” she said.

“Of course,” Bella said as she took the stack. “Right away, Mrs. Wasserman.” Bella clutched the stack to her chest and marched off to the copier, only pausing once to turn around and give Michelle a death glare.

Michelle didn’t waste time though. She followed after Eloise as she headed back to her office. “Mrs. Wasserman,” Michelle said. “Can I talk to you for just a minute?”

Eloise paused at her door and turned to face Michelle. “I don’t have time today, cow.”

“But I can help.” Eloise tried to open the door, but Michelle was feeling bold enough to step in front of the door and block it from opening. Eloise pursed her lips, and Michelle’s knees softened. Was she going to snap at her? In front of the entire tense office? Then they would all watch and see how Michelle was nothing compared to Eloise, how she was just a stupid cow and Eloise owned her and every ounce of Milk she ever produced and —

No. Michelle was here because she owned herself now. She had crossed the final line; her old life and self were dead, and they had nothing to offer her. Today would be painful, but it was the first necessary step to freedom.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” The danger in Eloise’s voice was back, and tingles ran all over Michelle’s body, over her breasts and to her tight nipples that were aching to be Milked. They started to leak as Michelle’s mind went soft and —

No. Focus. “I need to talk to you,” Michelle said. “It’s urgent.”

“Later,” Eloise said. “Nothing is more urgent than Mr. Thatcher’s visit. We will all be under relentless scrutiny, so we need to be on our best —” Eloise furrowed her brow, and something in her softened. She stepped closer to Michelle and lowered her voice. “I know you’re worried about losing your job, but we still have time. It will hurt, but it will be good for all of us in the long run. And if —” She looked out at the floor and took a deep breath. “— if anything happens, I’ll take care of you. You know that, right?”

The tingles were back, but they weren’t over Michelle’s body. Nor were they washing over her mind and dumbing her down. These tingles ran over Michelle’s chest and deep over her heart as it fluttered at the sudden tenderness from one of her favorite cruel bitches. This wasn’t the same warmth that Tatiana made her feel last night. Tatiana made Michelle feel sexy, made her feel desirable, made her understand how someone could want nothing but women for the rest of her life. But this was genuine. This was deeper. This was —

“Now, please move and go help Bella with whatever she needs,” Eloise said. Her tone was firmer this time, but that didn’t stop Michelle’s heart from fluttering in her chest. “We can talk about our exit plan for you tomorrow.” She turned the doorknob, and Michelle moved out of her way. “If you get through the day,” she said with a shake of her head. It was more to herself than to Michelle, and Eloise said nothing else and waited for no reply before slipping back into her office.

Michelle stood outside of Eloise Wasserman’s office and turned to take in your surroundings. The meeting was obviously going to be focused on the conference room where some massive presentation was being prepared, but there were secretaries with cleaning supplies helping the janitorial staff clean every square inch of the office. It was like someone’s wicked step-mother was coming into town. Michelle had no idea where to start in being helpful. She hadn’t intended to do any of this at all. She was supposed to have her triumphant moment to quit, grab Bella by the throat, and drag her cow out of the dead-end job.

“Copies,” Bella said with a pant as she approached with the stack she was given. “I need help.”

“You don’t know how to make copies?”

“It’s jammed.”

“Fuck,” Michelle said. “Show me.” Michelle had become a bit of a part-time copier repair woman in her time here. You’d think a wealthy company like Thatcher Dynamics could afford better copiers, or more copiers, or their own copy repairman. But, no. The secretaries figured this out, and Michelle seemed to have a magic touch for the machine. Michelle slipped into the copy room and Bella closed the door behind her. Michelle took a look at the machine but didn’t see any error reports. From what she saw, everything was fine and —

“You fucking cunt,” Bella hissed. “Did you fucking drug me? Is that what you did?” Michelle turned in time to get a slap to the face from Bella. “With your fucking fifty dollar milk?”

Michelle tried to find the strength to respond as Eloise would. She should be sarcastic and condescending. She should mock the helpless addict and tease her about how to find more product. But her mind was fuzzy as her nipples leaked from the sudden violence and aggression from the Italian woman.

She almost fucking mooed.

“Is this because of your stupid job? You can keep it. Fuck. Did you know I did time at a facility a few years —” Bella shook her head as tears bubbled up. “Fuck. You have no idea what you’ve done. You can keep your job.” Bella threw the stack of papers at Michelle. Some hit her in the face, and the fuzzy cow brain grew as she went dumb from embarrassment. “I fucking quit. I can’t work like —”

Bella froze in a pose either to slap Michelle again or to storm out of the office and never look back. But of course, she wasn’t going to do that. Michelle recognized the look on Bella’s face. It wasn’t just one she’d worn many times before, but she saw it last night on eight beautiful and horny cows.

The look of an addict smelling fresh Milk.

“Is that —” Bella stepped closer. She sniffed and closed her eyes. She shivered as she picked up the scent of the Milk leaking from Michelle’s tits. “You have more?” Her eyes opened wide. Her hunger and lust were over the boiling point. “Where?” Her eyes roamed over Michelle’s body. She wasn’t holding any bottles or bags. There was no place to conceal a bottle of Milk unless —

The door to the copier room opened as another nervous secretary came in with a stack of papers. She took one look around the room at the scattered stack Bella had thrown at Michelle. “What in the actual fuck?” she said. “This room is a disaster zone. You bitches need to clean this up.” She stepped in front of Michelle and pushed her away with her hip. “Move. Some of us are working.”

But Bella and Michelle were still locked in each other’s eyes, sizing each other up. Bella wanted to know where the Milk was, and Michelle needed to figure out how to play this. Should she talk down to her budding cow? Should she reveal the whole game? Offer her a sample? Make her understand where her supply came from?

Bella moved first, grabbing Michelle’s hand and pulling her out of the copy room. Michelle followed wordlessly, tripping over and losing her heels as Bella dragged her through the hectic office to the girl’s bathroom. There was no one in there, but Bella didn’t stop until she had Michelle in a stall. The cold tiles on Michelle’s bare feet brought shivers to her as Bella wheeled around and cornered her against the wall.

“Where the fuck is it?” Bella asked. “You reek of it. Where is it?”

Michelle swallowed. She could do this. She knew she could do this. “I thought you didn’t want your life destroyed?”

“Fuck you,” Bella said. “Where is it?”

“What if I told you that I was your only source of — Hey!” Bella searched Michelle relentlessly, reaching around for any sign of the Milk. Michelle didn’t know what the curvy Italian was looking for. A dime bag of Milk? She supposed that was as likely as anything else. Bella looked for pockets or any place someone could hide —

She froze when she reached Michelle’s blazer. Michelle wanted to talk, to take control of the situation, but her body was loving Bella’s assertiveness, her aggression. Even if it fucked her plans, her pussy and tits didn’t seem to mind at all that she was losing control of the situation. It made her heart pound, her mind soften, and her Milk flow.

Bella pulled away the blazer and unbuttoned Michelle’s blouse. Neither woman spoke as the heavy moment sat between them. Their breath was ragged and tight, as Bella revealed Michelle’s expensive black silk and lace bra. It matched the rest of the lingerie she was wearing under her suit, trying to make her feel powerful for the big confrontation today.

But Michelle didn’t feel powerful as Bella didn’t hesitate to search her bra for any hidden Milk. Nor did she feel powerful when Bella pulled out a hand coated in Milk and slowly brought it to her own lips. It wasn’t powerful to watch Bella moan and have all the fun drinking Milk while Michelle was pinned to a wall and increasingly naked. It didn’t make her feel powerful as the carnal lust drove Bella mad and she ripped away Michelle’s most expensive bra, revealing swollen tits leaking with Milk. It didn’t even make her feel powerful when Bella gasped at the sight of Michelle’s tits as though she was beholding the face of god. None of it made her feel powerful.

She felt like a fucking cow.

Bella latched onto Michelle’s breast like she was going to devour the older woman. Michelle cried out in pain as Bella was careless with her teeth, eager to get as much Milk down her throat as possible. But Bella was quick to clamp her hand over Michelle’s mouth, pushing back against the toilet and then down onto the seat. Bella sank to her knees, never letting her mouth leave Michelle’s breast as she suckled and moaned.

“Oh fuck,” she said while Milk spilled out of her mouth, over her lips and cheeks, and down her chin. “It’s better from the source. So much better warm.”

Michelle tried to tell Bella to be gentle, that she was struggling to breathe with the Italian woman’s hand clamped over her mouth and nose, but only muffled noises came out. Noises that could just as easily be moans. Noises that could just as easily be moos. But no matter what they were, they weren’t escaping. And Bella wasn’t stopping.

It was strange for Michelle that this wasn’t more arousing. She was a lesbian now, she knew it. She had a beautiful woman’s mouth around her nipple. The pressure of the Milk being released. The arousal of being topless and pinned in a dirty bathroom. The potential to be pathetic and submissive. The chance to be needy and weak. It was all here. This should get her off.

But fear gripped her.

It was only as Michelle edged closely to blacking out that she realized she had hands. She pulled Bella’s hand off her mouth. “What are you doing?”

She was ready for Bella to try and cover her mouth again, but she wasn’t ready for Bella to strike her. The Italian woman was stronger than Michelle had expected — certainly stronger than Michelle. Michelle saw stars as Bella covered her mouth again and got back to work, drinking all of Michelle’s milk straight from the source. Free of cost.

No. Michelle was going to be her own boss now. She owned the Milk. She would make Bella beg for it. She would sell it to Vicki at forty dollars a bottle or get her own customers. She would take charge.

Strength surged in Michelle as she pried Bella’s hands off her mouth. She tried to stand, but Bella pushed her back down. “Dammit, we can talk about it,” Michelle said, not sounding as strong or as firm as she’d like.

Michelle pushed Bella off and stood, but Bella was quick to her feet. She reached out for Michelle’s face, but she didn’t clamp down her mouth this time. This time she wrapped a hand around Michelle’s throat. With a quick knee to the stomach, Michelle dropped back down onto the toilet seat as she was choked.

“I’m not talking with a fucking cow,” Bella said when she broke away from the tit for breath. She pinched Michelle’s other nipple and sprayed Milk all over her face. She arched her head back and enjoyed the facial while Michelle was running out of air and Milk all at once as Bella took it.

Bella her subordinate.

Bella her trainee.

Bella her replacement.

Bella, stronger and better than her.

Because Bell was a bitch.

And Michelle was a cow.

For a long moment, she thought seriously that she was going to die. That her heart would stop beating, and Bella would keep sucking each drop of Milk from the tits of her corpse. She couldn’t win. Bella was stronger. Bella was better. Michelle had no hope of overcoming the woman, and Bella’s milk-lust had driven her past the point of any moral understanding. Bella was like a meth addict, too desperate to be reasoned with or stopped. She would break Michelle before she was denied any more Milk.

Then Michelle’s fear passed the threshold. She stopped fighting for her life and gave it up. The final line — the real final line — was crossed. For every sub may give up control and dignity, but they cling to life. But not Michelle. Even that was gone now. She was truly and utterly helpless. No longer did she live in metaphor. Bella had overpowered her, and whether she lived or died was entirely in Bella’s hands. But there was no fear now. If Michelle died, it was because it was what Bella wanted. And if Michelle wanted to live — and she did — she would have to start making Bella very happy. She would have to submit and serve. She would have to die to herself and accept Bella as the true owner of her life. There was a peace in that, a serenity Michelle had never understood. She didn’t need James to get his shit together. She didn’t need to get her shit together and be her own boss bitch either. All she had to do was whatever her betters wanted.

So Michelle peeled off Bella’s hands one more time.

And mooed.

Bella froze and looked up from her knees — her face and hair soaked with Milk. “What the fuck?” she asked.

Michelle slid off the toilet seat and into Bella’s lap. “You wanted a cow?” Michelle said. She wrapped her hands around her nipple and squirted. Milk covered Bella’s face and lips, but instead of saying a word, Bella’s mouth spread wide as she tried to catch as much Milk as possible.

“Mooooo,” Michelle said as she gave Bella a facial. It was hearty and low. It was a perfect moo from a perfect cow. Michelle was dead. Decisions were dead. Consequences were dead. She wasn’t even a pet or a favored animal. She was cattle. She was good only for her milk.

“Fuck,” Bella said, reaching between her legs and fingering herself as she was covered in Milk. “Fuck yes, you useless fucking cow. You old, fat, saggy-titted cow.”

Michelle’s pussy thrummed, and the Milk flow grew stronger. “Udders.”

“Yeah, fuck. Spray me with your udders.” Bella leaned back, one hand bracing her and one hand furiously fucking herself. Michelle grinded in her lap, mooing while she sprayed her. It didn’t matter if Bella owned her. Or if Eloise owned her. Or if Tatiana owned her. Or if Vicki owned her. At least she got to live. She got to cum. She got to be Milked.

Living never felt so good, even if she was just a dumb and useless cow to be passed around be her betters.

That was the thought that drove Michelle to smile as someone came into the bathroom and stood in front of the stall. It was the thought Michelle held onto as Bella demanded she keep going, that she was close to cumming. And who was Michelle to disobey an order? The people pouring into the bathroom to figure out what all that noise was only had eyes. They only had opinions. Bella could choke her to death for Milk, and she would. Eloise would fire her and humiliate her. And Vicki? Vicki would own her. Obliterate her identity. All the people in the bathroom were merely mortals. None of them were the kind of bitches that would ruin Michelle. Even with their phones out and the gasps of shock and horror, Michelle didn’t stop. Bella wanted to cum; Bella was going to cum.

“Holy shit,” Bella said, her voice high. “Holy shit, I’m close. Moo for me, cow. Fucking moo for me.” She latched onto Michelle’s tit again and kept grinding back against Michelle. The older woman felt Bella’s hand pulsing inside her pussy, but it created pressure against Michelle’s own crotch as she kept grinding, feeding her replacement, and mooing with abandon. The people around them were telling them to stop, asking them what they were doing, but none of them dared come near the two lovers or the mess of Michelle’s Milk all over the stalls and walls of the bathroom.

Bella came on Michelle’s last moo, when the cow tilted her head back and gave it everything she had. Bella shrieked and clutched tightly to Michelle’s back, and Michelle helped her keep her balance by clutching to her, keeping the newer and better secretary against her breast. Bella bit down on Michelle’s nipple, but the cow didn’t care about the pain. Pleasure and delight surged through her to know that Bella was cumming. She’d done it. She was a good cow.

And as the two women held each other, both panting after their orgasms, the cloud around Michelle’s eyes lifted and she paid more attention to the strangers watching her and Bella fuck in the bathroom. They had phones out and were filming. Some were laughing. All of them were appalled.

And amongst them was Eloise Wasserman and Adam Thatcher.

Michelle was fired long before she could quit.

Michelle drove around in her car for most of the day. She even talked to James on the phone during her lunch break and pretended to have to go for a meeting. She created a story about Adam Thatcher visiting them and her being an ideal employee in front of him and the rest of the staff on her floor. James said he was proud of her.

Michelle almost cried.

Then he reminded her to pick up eggs on her way home.

Michelle came home well after dinner. She had dozens of texts from James, but she told him she had to work late, to order something, and then she ignored his messages. She almost cried when she realized ordering dinner for five would cost them all the money she made selling Milk yesterday. But she held it together. She wasn’t going to cry. She had crossed the final threshold. If she was alright with Bella choking her to death, she was certainly okay with losing her job. She didn’t want to stay there anyways. She was going to quit. It didn’t matter.

She just didn’t want to go home.

She didn’t have the energy for James and the kids. She couldn’t fathom folding laundry or making lunches. But that was going to be her life unless she found something else. Did she have a cow in Bella? No. But that didn’t matter. She was deluding herself to think she could be in charge. She didn’t deserve Bella or any cow. She didn’t even deserve Tatiana. And now she certainly didn’t deserve to serve Eloise. She’d ruined that too.

At the end of the day, all she deserved was Vicki.

The thought still made her run cold. Was it intense and erotic? Absolutely. But she didn’t need the Wassermans for Milk anymore. She didn’t depend on Vicki. And the very thought of it was mortifying. Vicki wasn’t just cruel to suit her needs and desires. She wasn’t a bully. She was cruel to amuse herself. She liked hurting people. She wasn’t a mere sadist. She was a sociopath preying on people and borderline engaging in human sex trafficking. She had no ethics or morals. She wanted nothing but to hurt people.

Would she be Michelle’s only option?

Was it that or laundry and mac & cheese and a boring husband for the rest of her life?

That was the melancholy place Michelle was in when she pulled into her driveway late at night to find Eloise Wasserman’s car parked in her spot. She got out of the car while Michelle parked and stood by her car door, waiting for her former secretary. She was still dressed as an ice queen bitch Michelle would gladly work for forever, but her makeup had been removed and reapplied to something more subdued.

“You kept me waiting,” Eloise said as Michelle approached.

“Sorry, Mrs. Wasserman,” Michelle said.

“You almost cost me everything with that stunt. If it was just you fucking around, that would have been fine. But both my secretaries fucking in the bathroom?” Eloise shook her head. “It raises questions.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wasserman. I didn’t want to. Bella could smell the Milk on me and —”

Eloise silenced her with a raised hand. “Spare me the details.” She sighed and ran a hand through her black hair, taking out her perfect bun as she did so. “I know you can’t help yourself. In fact, I know that —” She bit her lip and shook her head.

Michelle stepped closer. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. Fine. Though I could use a drink.”

“Do you want to come inside and —”

“No,” Eloise said. “I can’t go back in there.”

“Back?”

Eloise pinched the bridge of her nose. “Today was close. Too close. And it was all Vicki’s idea. All of it. I told her to wait, but she said you were ready.”

“Vicki brought Adam Thatcher to the office today? She made Bella —” Michelle didn’t know what word to use. Attack? Force herself upon Michelle? The r-word? Was that it? No. Eloise was baiting her. She wanted that; she just wanted to be the one in control. But she was never the one in control. Not now and not ever.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth,” Eloise said.

“Try me.”

Eloise leaned against the side of her car. “I could really use that fucking drink.”

“I —” Michelle looked at her house. “I could run in and get one if you don’t want to —”

“No. Just —” Eloise sighed again. “Tell me if you’re okay.”

Michelle laughed. Somehow Eloise had gone from psycho bitch that ruined her life to manipulative sex boss that ruined her marriage, and now it seemed like she was being an honest-to-god friend.

“I don’t know,” Michelle said. She gestured at her tits where Milk stains had soaked through her bra and pads she used to try and soak it up. “I mean, look at me. I feel like these are growing all the time. They definitely fucking hurt all the time. And my urges?” Michelle shook her head. “I don’t feel like I have control of my body, let alone my life.”

Eloise smirked, and some of the old steel appeared in her demeanor. “That’s the facts of your reality. I was asking about how you were emotionally.”

“All over the place.” Michelle clenched her fists. “My life is ruined.”

“Your old life is ruined. Your new life is just about to begin.”

“You sound like Vicki.”

Eloise chuckled to herself. “I suppose I do.” She shook her head and tilted her head up, looking at the dark and cloudy sky, hiding the moonlight. “For the longest time, I thought I was running her. Did you know that?”

“I can’t imagine anyone controlling her.”

“She was married to Hank when we met and bored. She was a scientist working in pharmaceuticals, but her mother was a health nut that didn’t trust doctors. Somehow you mix that into a controlling bitch like Vicki, and when she isn’t fucking a young businesswoman or ignoring her husband, she’s developing a serum to try and expand her power.”

Michelle moved over to Eloise’s car and leaned against it, next to her former boss. She looked up at the sky to see what Eloise was staring at, but there was nothing but the abyss staring back down at them.

“I had just had a thing for curvy older women,” Eloise said. Without warning, she grabbed Michelle’s hand. “But until Vicki, it was just a bit of a fetish, you know? It was just a body type I liked to fuck and dominate. I liked something to hold on to. I liked the flesh and warmth of the body and the maturity of an older woman.”

“But you couldn’t dominate her.”

“No. And she couldn’t quite tame me. We made it a game, and that always kept things interesting. I guess you could say that was the foundation of our relationship. I was interesting enough for her to leave Hank, and she was enough of a challenge that I felt I could spend my whole life trying to tame her.”

Michelle shook her head. It may sound fucked up, but it had to be just as valid as the basis for her relationship with James. One day you look at a man and decide that you like his genes enough that you want to make more little copies of him mixed with copies of you and fill the world with them. It was insane if you thought about it that way. It was all insane depending on the phrasing.

“But we loved taking other women into our bedroom. Then it became a game within a game. Whoever could best tame the guest lover would be the stronger domme. She would have the edge in the marriage.”

“So I was just a game?”

“I wish you were that.” Eloise let go of Michelle’s hand. “You were more of a hunt. And one of many.”

A chill ran through Michelle. She crossed her arms over her chest. “The other cows.”

Eloise nodded. “We’ve made dozens. Some were secretaries. One was a barista that pissed Vicki off. One was the daughter of a neighbor we hated. We’ve made dozens. It took her a while to figure out how to profit off of them besides just making more and more milk. The Farm is the latest and greatest expansion, and she won’t stop there. I think in her ideal world, there will be a Farm in every city in America.”

Michelle’s mind spun. Dozens? Not just Tatiana and Brigitte and the twins and Michelle. But four to five times that amount. There were women out in the world — women not on the Farm — that were forced to deal with crippling Milk addiction and swollen breasts. And Michelle thought she could break through that? She thought she could change the cycle and become her own Mistress? To own Bella? No. Bella was Vicki’s recruit. She was another in a long cycle of victims. She was a woman with no college education battling against two masterminds.

Two.

“And you’re okay with all this?” Michelle stepped away from the car, moving towards the steps of her porch. “You’re okay with what she’s doing and how she’s —”

“Don’t go in there,” Eloise said. “Not yet.”

“I don’t work for you anymore.”

Eloise shoved her weight off the car and stepped closer. “You don’t understand. Once you —”

“Just tell me you feel bad,” Michelle said. She pointed to her house. “For ruining my life? For ruining all their lives. For helping a psychopath lead a life of —”

“You were the first one I felt bad about.”

The words hung in the air and were met with silence. Michelle’s mind was spinning. Was that supposed to be a compliment? A confession? Did that suddenly redeem Eloise? No. She just admitted that she didn’t feel bad about ruining dozens of lives. Just one. A lifetime of being an abuser hadn’t taught her any lessons. And why should it? She won in the end. No one was going to come and break up Vicki and Eloise’s plan. If the FBI tried, any female agent would suddenly be offered a cup of coffee with extra Milk. Any male agent would be offered free cows as often as he wanted them. And if he didn’t, well he probably had sisters or a wife. He certainly had a mother, and Vicki would find them. She would find them all and recruit them to the Farm.

They were monsters.

“Is that supposed to make me feel flattered?”

“Yes.” Eloise stepped in front of Michelle. “And you can feign righteous indignation about how evil I am, but in the end you don’t care.” Eloise pointed past Michelle. “Because I didn’t ruin your life. I saved you from it. Admit it.”

The bitchiness was back in Eloise’s voice, and Michelle’s knees softened. Her nipples hardened. Milk bubbled out of her. She was right. Michelle knew she was right. All that was ruined was something Michelle desperately wanted to get away from. She didn’t want to be shackled to James or her family. She didn’t want to work as a secretary. She wanted more, even if it was morally awful.

The Wassermans had always offered her more.

“So I should thank you for getting me a job at your wife’s cow brothel?”

“I don’t want you working at the Farm,” Eloise said. “That’s why I’m here. I want —”

“You don’t want me at the Farm?”

Eloise took a step closer and grabbed Michelle’s hand. “We have destroyed and played with many women, but none of them needed it or wanted it as badly as you. I have never met someone so submissive, so delightful to torment and someone who delighted in being tormented.”

“Is that supposed to be romantic?”

Eloise nodded. She raised a hand, and Michelle flinched, thinking she was going to get slapped. Eloise laughed, and Michelle’s mind went soft and fuzzy. Gooey. That was the word. The Milk leaked easily from her swollen tits, and she wanted to moo. She hated herself for it, but she wanted to moo for this beautiful bitch that ruined her life.

Eloise put her raised hand softly against Michelle’s cheek and held it, gazing into her eyes with cold blue eyes. “Call it whatever you want, though I don’t think what we have is romantic. It’s more primal than that, isn’t it?”

Michelle nodded.

“I own you.”

Michelle nodded.

Eloise smiled. It wasn’t the bitch smile Michelle loved. It was tender. It reminded her of Tatiana. It was something Michelle wanted to kiss, to taste to the cold lips of Eloise Wasserman as a gay woman for the first time.

“And you want to be owned,” Eloise said.

Michelle nodded. She knew it was true. It was probably what drew her to James in the first place. She wanted someone in charge, someone telling her what to do. But she couldn’t stomach someone weak like James. Now she knew she couldn’t stomach a man, either. But that didn’t mean she could go out and marry any woman. It would have to be someone like Tatiana or Bella or Vicki.

It would have to be someone like Eloise.

“You enjoy being debased,” Eloise said.

Michelle nodded.

“And I enjoy debasing you.”

Michelle licked her lips. The pressure in her tits was building.

“I enjoy older curvy women who bend to my will.”

Michelle nodded.

“And you will always be older,” she gestured to Michelle’s tits, “always be curvy thanks to the Milk,” and she pulled on the back of Michelle’s neck, “and always bend to my will.”

Then Eloise kissed her.

Michelle wasn’t shocked that they hadn’t kissed before. She hadn’t accepted her sexuality, and she, of course, didn’t think she was worthy of kissing Eloise. She was a pathetic cow, and Eloise was successful and powerful. She was confident and relentless. She was ambitious and strategic. She was cruel, but she cared. She cared for at least one stupid cow.

The kiss wasn’t long, but it was enough. It was enough to answer all of Michelle’s questions, to assuage all her fears, to let her know that her life truly wasn’t ruined. It was just beginning. Not a life of a cow, but of whatever Eloise wanted her to be. Maybe she would spend days in the Barn, but if Eloise ordered her to, she knew she would enjoy it. She knew she would enjoy whatever Eloise had for her, even if it was pain and humiliation.

And that was the difference between Eloise and Vicki. Vicki couldn’t be trusted. Her cruelty didn’t have a hidden gem of goodness in it. She wasn’t a domme or a sexy bitch; she was evil. And maybe Eloise was evil for being complicit to Vicki’s schemes, and maybe Eloise was evil for loving Vicki’s wickedness. Or maybe Eloise was as trapped by Vicki’s schemes as anyone else. Maybe she was always checking to see if there was Milk in her food; maybe that was why she didn’t take cream in her coffee.

But it didn’t matter. In the end, Michelle knew that she wanted Eloise. Maybe it was as complicated as the way Eloise wanted Vicki. Michelle and Eloise both wanted a woman who was evil, and maybe that’s why they shouldn’t call it romance. It was ownership. It was possession. Eloise didn’t love Michelle; she owned her. Plain and simple.

When the kiss was over, Eloise held Michelle’s face with both her hands. “I want you, my dumb little cow,” she whispered.

“Moo,” Michelle said softly.

Both women laughed.

Eloise put her forehead against Michelle. “Now for the hard part,” she said.

“That wasn’t the hard part?”

Eloise pulled away, letting go of Michelle’s face. “Your life wasn’t ruined this morning.” She pointed to the house. “But it is now.”

“What?”

Michelle’s blood ran cold.

“It was Vicki’s idea, but I don’t think she’s wrong. That’s why I wanted to make sure I was the one who did it.”

“What did Vicki do?” Michelle was trying not to scream. Her family was behind her; her whole family. What did Vicki do to them? What point did she possibly have to prove?

“Find me when this is over. I’ll protect you. She thinks this will push you to the Farm, but I’ll fight her for this. I want you for myself.”

“Eloise, what’s happening? What did —”

“I have to go. Call me tomorrow.” Without another word, Eloise turned around and got into her car. Michelle rushed to the window and pounded on it, demanding to know what Eloise had done. But her owner didn’t stop. She didn’t obey her cow.

No. Not owner yet. Not cow yet.

First her life had to be ruined.

When Eloise’s car was out of sight, Michelle turned and faced her house. She didn’t feel brave as she approached the door, only stupid. It was stupid to follow Eloise after what she’d done with her. It was stupid to turn the doorknob and see the devestation she used to call a life. It was stupid to ache for this night to be over so she could call Eloise tomorrow. It was stupid to consider the Farm as a life for herself. Stupid to want Eloise so badly. Stupid to be owned by two sociopaths. Stupid to keep going when every step before had been pain and humiliation. Stupid to look at her living room where James was watching a video of Bella and Michelle fucking in a bathroom stall. Stupid to let him yell at her and say nothing in her defence. Stupid to end her marriage while her kids were obviously listening. Stupid to take this moment to come out as a lesbian. Stupid to say she was in love with somone else — not Bella — and leaving him for her. Stupid to do this all for Eloise because Eloise had never done anything good for her.

But she was a stupid cow after all.

And stupid is as stupid does.