The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Michelle’s watch vibrated, and she paused from dusting the mantle and checked the alarm. “Coffee,” it said. She quickly finished the mantle — Eloise would not forgive her for missing a spot — and put all of the Wasserman family photos back in their place. Only one of them had her in it — the Wasserman vacation to the Hamptons last week. Vicki had wanted Michelle to wear her maid outfit — it was white with black spots so guests knew she was their personal cow — but Eloise wouldn’t stand for a family photo with a curvy, huge-titted woman in a cow maid outfit. So instead, Michelle wore a tiny cow spotted bikini that barely covered her nipples while the Wasserman’s wore classy one pieces.

But Eloise’s hand was around Michelle’s waist. She may have looked ridiculous — though she was coming to find her appearance and all the cow clothing less and less ridiculous each day — but she was owned. Eloise would never forget her.

Michelle moved through the penthouse silently. Eloise had started working from home as often as she could, and Michelle would certainly get a spanking if she disrupted Eloise on a call or someone on Zoom overheard the cow moving through the apartment. Working from home had started to “keep an eye on” Michelle, but Vicki suspected that it was allowed because Eloise was being phased out of Thatcher Dynamics after the incident with Bella. But that didn’t matter. All three of them were focusing more and more of their energies on the Farm and Vicki’s serum. They had phased out Hank by moving him to their new Farm in New York (Eloise was thrilled to have him gone), and Michelle played his role of being the cow handler at night.

That meant she got plenty of time with Tatiana.

And Rosa the rude and aggressive Latina that always got her way. She loved bullying Michelle, but Neon — the purple haired twin — protected Michelle whenever she was woman enough to admit that Rosa was making her uncomfortable. Though normally she just meekly agreed to go to Rosa’s room and let the curvy Latina fuck her stupid.

To be fair, she also liked Neon and Hally — Halogen, the blue-haired twin — to take her to their room and fuck her stupid. Really any of the girls were great, but having sisters was almost as good as having the Wassermans. Brigitte — the blonde with curls to die for — and Shirley — the secretary that worked there to keep an eye on her sister — were great in bed. Shirley didn’t have the aggression that most cows could show when they wanted Michelle’s milk, but she had a lot of pent-up anger and a riding crop she loved that she called Vengeance.

All of the girls knew that Michelle wasn’t some boss bitch, and they took care of her in turn, whether that was relieving Milk pressure or dropping her into subspace with a rough fucking. But none of them tried to take advantage of her. They knew she was the Wasserman’s maid, and that Eloise especially protected her. No one dared cross Vicki’s lines. And besides, Michelle was kinder, gentler, and hotter than Hank. And she had Milk. She prioritized the girls over the customers, and always organized their schedules around Milk flow and breaks to pump. Under her care, productivity was up now that the cows were happy, horny, and healthy. They had enough supply to start exporting Milk to most major cities in America, and they hoped soon each city would see a need for a Farm to control their budding cow population.

In short, Michelle’s life was good. She had more autonomy than she thought she would thanks to Eloise. In the early months, Vicki was always trying to convince Michelle that life would be better in the Barn, but Eloise would never permit that. Michelle had her own income and bank account. She could leave whenever she wanted to or stay as long as she desired and kept the Wasserman’s happy. And it wasn’t like Vicki was complaining about Michelle as a cow handler or as a maid. She loved Michelle’s cooking almost as much as she loved having something to take her anger out on when she came home.

But there was still pressure to perform. Michelle still made mistakes. She was still a stupid cow that needed to be controlled. Like coffee. Eloise liked it at precise times and temperatures. Michelle couldn’t make it early or late — hence all the alarms. It took her a few weeks to get used to the impressive and expensive espresso machine the Wasserman’s had, but she had come to appreciate the stronger and finer taste — even if she drowned her own coffee in Milk.

Michelle worked the expensive and needlessly complicated espresso machine cautiously. Eloise had frequently accused her of burning and scalding the espresso, though she couldn’t imagine how that was possible. She prepared four shots — two for Eloise and two for herself — and waited outside the door to Eloise’s office. She pressed a button that would turn on a light on the other side, letting Eloise know that Michelle was waiting and ready for her. Silent lights were Eloise’s preference to communicate with her maids so that there was no possibility of her being interrupted while she worked. It was bad enough that she was working so much from home — her fellow executives were starting to spread rumors that she was in seclusion due to being pregnant. Eloise wasn’t going to worry about the rumors, but she wanted to maintain professionalism. As best as possible, she wanted everyone who interacted with her to feel she was still in her corner office and on the way to being CEO in the next ten years. And maintaining that illusion was Michelle’s job.

The light on Michelle’s side turned green, and she twisted the doorknob slowly and silently, letting herself in. Eloise was sitting at her desk that had three different monitors and a pro webcam set up (including a ring-light) as Michelle stood in front of the open door. The cow silently kicked off her shoes and stepped into the carpeted apartment, moving slowly but making sure the coffee didn’t cool too much despite her lack of speed. She placed the tray on Michelle’s desk and delicately placed Eloise’s coffee on a cloth coaster. She slid it across Eloise’s mahogany desk, and her lover grabbed it effortlessly and brought it to her lips while someone on the other side was talking about cost-benefit analysis of an aggressive low-to-the-ground marketing campaign.

Michelle grabbed a pad of sticky notes she kept in the pocket of her cow maid outfit, peeled off one, and scribbled down a note. She placed it on the desk near Eloise’s coffee. It read, “May I have some Milk, Mistress?”

Eloise didn’t look at the note for three minutes. She gave a lengthy reply to her co-worker, aptly making him sound like an idiot without outright insulting him, before she glanced down at her cow’s message. She grabbed a pen and wrote her response in elegant script, “Moo for it.”

Michelle blushed. She stood on her tiptoes and tried to get a look at Eloise’s screen to see if her mic was unmuted. It shouldn’t be — Eloise thought that a muted mic showed she had something to hide — but Michelle dared to hope.

Eloise’s lips twitched up into a risky smirk considering all the eyes watching her. Eloise made a hand gesture — her pointer finger tapping her left wrist. The two had created a kind of sign language for the purpose of communicating most things while Eloise was in meetings. That gesture meant, “Now.”

Michelle’s eyes darted to the peek of Eloise’s screen she could see. Would her Mistress mute herself? Eloise kept her eyes on the screen, feigning attention to whatever meeting was going on — Michelle had long accepted that she was too stupid to understand it — but Michelle knew that Eloise’s focus was on her. She would do it; they both knew Michelle would obey. The question was how long would she fight it? How much dignity did she have left?

Michelle sank to her knees. She knew better than to moo while standing on two feet. Eloise shifted in her seat, making sure she could still see Michelle on the other side of her monitors. Michelle freed both of her breasts — the custom top had clasps that mimicked the clasps on Michelle’s nursing bra. She didn’t get to wear much lingerie or look like a sex-bomb, but the Wasserman’s didn’t seem to care. Half the time she didn’t think either of them were attracted to Michelle’s body — only her shame. Sometimes Eloise let her wear cow-printed lingerie for their one-on-one moments. But not today. Not at work.

Michelle’s heavy breasts came free, and she sighed with relief.

“Excuse me?” asked a male voice from Eloise’s computer.

“Hm?” Eloise said, feigning confusion while staring at Michelle.

“Did you say something?” asked her co-worker.

“No. Go on, Michael.” Eloise didn’t take her eyes off Eloise’s breasts. She wasn’t a milk addict, but sometimes she looked at her cow’s tits like she was. They didn’t hang low — and that was another miracle of Vicki’s serum. They were up to 34G in cup size at this point, and most people assumed they were implants from how perky but heavy they were. But it didn’t matter if they thought she was a bimbo Milf going through a midlife crisis and filling her chest with silicon. Michelle knew the truth, and so did Eloise. Michelle’s body type and huge tits were Eloise’s preference. But Eloise was too careful to ever get Milk in her mouth when she played with her cow. It was the one way Michelle could hurt the Wassermans, and she’d never allow herself to do that to them. She didn’t want to work with cows. She had sisters back at the Barn to fuck. A cow was useless without her owner, and she would probably work there full time before harming a hair on Vicki’s head.

Michelle lowered her swollen tits over her tiny cup of coffee. If she spilled a drop, she knew she’d be cleaning the office floor with her tongue. But her aim was reliable after over a year of lactating.

“Now,” signed Eloise again, and Michelle flinched knowing she’d get a punishment later for making her better ask her twice.

Michelle took a deep breath. She lowered her stomach and thrust her tits down as low as they could go. She spread her legs and popped her ass. The Wassermans liked to fuck her in this position, and her body warmed as it recognized its favorite pose.

The moo started as a moan and built from there. Michelle would swear that it didn’t start in her throat or even her lungs. It started at the core of her being — between her legs. Her body knew the sound better than breathing. It was more than a prayer; it was an orgasm in its own right, one made of sound and not skin. Her voice dropped several octaves, passing something human, going deep into the primal part of her brain. The same part of her that moaned wildly when the Wassermans fucked her — the part that can’t help the sounds you make from the pleasure — released a throaty moo that filled Eloise’s office.

As she mooed, milk flowed from her tit and one hand grabbed it to direct the flow to her tiny coffee cup. She squeezed her tits and filled the cup with the hot and buttery goodness as her moo turned to a very distinct moan. Her breath went from deep to high, almost cracking as what sounded like a cow in Eloise’s office quickly became the obvious sound of a woman close to cumming.

Eloise’s meeting went silent.

“What the fuck was that?” said a woman on the other side.

Eloise filled the room with laughter. “Oh my gosh, you heard that?” she said.

“Was that a fucking cow?” Michael said in the meeting.

Eloise bit her lip and nodded. More laughter erupted from Eloise’s speakers. “The building next door has an urban farm on the roof,” she said. “So yeah, that’s our goddamn fucking cow.”

Eloise doubled over with laughter, and her colleagues joined her. The meeting was derailed with questions about the urban farm and how Eloise could stand it.

“That cow must be fucking huge,” one man said. “It sounded like your mic was in her mouth.”

Michelle blushed as she realized they weren’t just laughing. They were laughing at her. She wondered if Eloise would reveal it was really her maid and former secretary, if Eloise would drag her cow-ass in front of the camera with her tits out so they could keep laughing at her.

Most of her wished Eloise would.

Eloise perked up as an idea struck her and quickly made another signal to Michelle. Michelle’s mouth watered as she recognized it. She crawled over her coffee, easily ignoring it as she went to obey her latest command: “Eat out Mistress.”

Eloise spread her legs under her desk as her cow crawled on all four. Michelle approached easily. The human part of her brain was gone. There was no reasoning with a cow. Just luring it. Guiding it. And even then, they were often too stupid. Cattle. Herd-minded. Simple. Yes. Everything was simple as Michelle moved aside Eloise’s bright red panties and slid her head underneath her owner’s skirt. There was no build up or hesitation. If Eloise wanted to cum, she wanted to cum now. Tardiness was disobedience.

“Uhn,” Eloise moaned and gripped the side of her desk. She quickly bit her lip and forced herself into a fake laugh.

“Eloise?” someone said from her computer.

Eloise forced herself to let go of the desk with one hand and held up a finger, asking those in her meeting to wait while she kept laughing. It was obviously forced, but she was letting it build up into something. Michelle glanced up and slid her head out of her owner’s skirt to see what was happening in the meeting, but Eloise quickly reached down and grabbed Michelle’s long ponytail. With a sharp twist, she had it balled in her hand and pulled tightly on Michelle’s scalp. She pulled Michelle back to her pussy, and her maid got back to work, dutifully licking her lover’s pussy.

“Sorry,” Eloise said while laughing. “It’s just that stupid fucking cow. Can you hear it?”

Eloise yanked tighter on Michelle’s hair, and Michelle mooed dutifully. Eloise’s pussy muffled it, but it was deeper, stronger this time. She let it rumble through her throat and hummed the ‘m’ through her lips as long as she could, letting the vibrations tease Eloise’s wet lips. Eloise gasped and turned that into laughter, and then the meeting joined her.

They all joined her.

The laughter melted Michelle’s mind. At first it was the high, sharp, and cruel laughter of Eloise. It was that laughter that started all of this. Even more so than the Milk, it was Eloise’s laughter — it was the way Michelle’s body responded to Eloise’s cruel laughter — that led to Michelle’s downfall. The Milk was addictive and lowered Michelle’s inhibitions, helping her release her foolish life and embrace her true calling. But it was the laughter that made Michelle know where she belonged — on her knees, begging, serving, taking blow after blow, abuse after abuse, and getting wetter with each strike.

Michelle had spent her whole life trying to avoid the moment when a beautiful and intelligent woman with success and power mocked her — all the way from middle school to PTA meetings. But she shouldn’t have fought it for so long. She wouldn’t have if she had known how it made her body tingle, how it turned off her mind, how it made all the bad things go away as only the truth was laid bare — she was pathetic and worthless. The only value she could possibly have was to be of service, and even then, she was often too stupid or inept to help anyone. No. She couldn’t take care of her husband or her family. She was just a stupid cow. She could be used for amusement, and that was it.

And as the room filled with laughter — as more of Eloise’s co-workers unmuted their mics to laugh at “that stupid fucking cow” — Michelle let go of everything. Even the pleasure of serving Eloise’s pussy was gone. She was nothing. She was absolutely nothing but something for her betters to laugh at. And as they did, she mooed deeper and deeper into Eloise’s pussy. And they laughed. And she mooed. And Eloise twisted her hair and pulled her deeper. And she mooed. And Eloise laughed. And she mooed.

And oh, how her Milk flowed.

“Eloise, can you mute yourself?” said another man through fits of laughter. “We can’t have our meeting in a fucking barn.”

“Sure, Earl,” Eloise said. “I just thought you’d like a little something to laugh at in the middle of the day.”

“Of course. Now, back to these numbers from the third quarter …”

Michelle couldn’t leave until the meeting was over, but it didn’t matter. There was no time except for Eloise’s time. Michelle would stay up late or wake up early to clean the other parts of the apartment. Even the coffee and her precious Milk were far from her mind. There was only her Mistress and serving her. Eloise only wanted the best, and though Michelle was certainly not that, she would have to try her best. Maybe one day the Wassermans would find a smarter cow to clean their apartment and lick their pussies. Then they would throw Michelle on the street like she deserved, and she’d finally go live in the Barn with the other worthless cows.

She lost track of how many times Eloise came. She did it noiselessly, but her thighs would clench tight around Michelle’s face, and she’d pull on Michelle’s hair until the cow almost screamed. Then with a shudder, Eloise would unclench and make the sign to eat pussy again. So Michelle obeyed.

On and on, Michelle obeyed.

When the meeting was over, Eloise stood up and walked around her desk. “You made a fucking mess, cow,” she said.

Michelle blushed and mooed softly.

“I’m going to clean up. You lick this milk up, then drink your coffee, tonight you’ll deep clean the floor.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Michelle looked down. She was the maid. She was supposed to clean up messes, not make them.

She was such a stupid fucking cow.

Eloise smiled sadistically and bent down. Michelle thought at first it was going to be a quick peck — she was covered in Eloise’s juices after all — but Eloise gave a heavy kiss to her cow, letting her tongue slip casually past Michelle’s lips. Michelle’s lips parted as she released a soft moo, but Eloise pulled her cow up by the collar. Michelle rose to her feet as Eloise’s tongue roamed, licking Michelle’s face, tasting herself on her cow. Eloise purred as she did it, and Michelle struggled to stay on her feet as pleasure spread through her.

Eloise let go of Michelle’s collar, and the cow crumpled to the floor. Eloise let out a callous laugh as she walked out of the office. “Don’t clean your face today, cow. I taste too good on you.”

Michelle floated through the rest of the day. She savored her Milk on the floor of Eloise’s office with long licks but rushed through her coffee to give her a boost as quickly as possible. Managing a brothel and being a maid during the day meant Michelle only got four or six hours of sleep a day. She needed coffee more than ever, and the Wassermans knew that it was her fuel almost as much as Milk.

Eloise was also in a flirty mood throughout the day. More than once she called Michelle into her office to lick her face some more. Something must have wound her up, because she sat on a conference call and ordered Michelle to sit on the couch on the far side of the office, away from Eloise’s desk. Michelle was ordered to Milk herself and drink, and Eloise touched herself while ignoring whatever the conference call was about. When Eloise hung up, she marched over to Michelle and rubbed her soaked pussy over Michelle’s face, making sure she was still covered in Eloise’s juices for the rest of the day. She licked Michelle’s face and sent the cow out of the office without cumming, making her understand that she was not permitted to touch herself that day without Eloise watching.

It was moments like that — those tiny flirtations — that helped Michelle know she’d made the right choice. James would have never done that. The customers at the Barn certainly weren’t playful and teasing with their cows. And Vicki? No. Vicki would have been a nightmare. Even if it were a beautiful wasteland to visit, Michelle would never want to live in Vicki’s world forever.

This was made evident when the curvy strawberry blonde woman came home at the end of the day. The door slammed, and Michelle’s skin crawled with panic. Vicki was early. There was the clicking of Vicki’s heels down the hallway, and Michelle scrambled from cleaning the bathroom floors to go greet her owner’s wife.

“Mrs. W-W-Wasser —”

“Jesus, get it out,” Vicki said as she stormed past Michelle and went to the bar to fix herself a drink. She was in black slacks that were straight and professional, but they had a look of leather to them. Her rich purple heels matched her blouse, but she was unbuttoning the top as she poured whiskey into a glass. She left the bottom three buttons closed but kept pouring.

Michelle stood at attention, waiting for an order from the woman but too afraid to breathe to ask if she needed something. Her eyes darted around the apartment, looking for any sign of Eloise to protect her.

“Are you going to stand there like a moron?” Vicki snapped after taking a long sip of her drink.

“I was j-j-just going to —”

Vicki held up a hand to silence her. She finished her drink, hissed, and started pouring another. “Spare me,” Vicki said. “I need something to eat. Can you manage that, cow?”

Michelle kept her head down as she curtsied. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good. Where’s my wife?”

“Right here.” Eloise appeared, walking towards the bar, and Michelle sighed with relief. Eloise grabbed herself a glass and gestured for Vicki to pour her some as well. Vicki ignored her.

“Hard day?” Eloise said.

“Hard implies it was difficult. It also implies that it was difficult for me, as though my ability is in question.”

Eloise poured herself a drink. “So, stupid people.”

“You have no —” Vicki looked up at Michelle, who was still standing and watching the two wives chit-chat. “What the fuck are you doing?” Vicki asked. “I’m talking to my wife. You should be making me food.”

“I wanted to know —”

“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” Vicki stepped closer with each word, and Michelle’s fear got the better of her curiosity. She squeaked as she turned and ran out of the bedroom. She rushed to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared at the contents. She had no idea what Vicki wanted. Of course the rude and dangerous Wasserman was also a picky eater. Michelle would go to some kind of comfort food, but what if Vicki thought that was too fattening? Did she want dinner or a snack? It was too early for a meal, but Vicki rarely cared about conventions, and she kept strange hours like Michelle.

In the end, she decided on a light anti-pasta dish. In the worst-case scenario, she could always pass it off as an appetizer or early course of some grander meal she’d have to conjure out of nowhere. The Wassermans normally ordered in or ate out, so Michelle rarely had to cook for them. Having to do so now would mean —

There was a shriek and a thud from the other side of the apartment. Michelle put down the knife in her hand and rushed towards it as Vicki roared, “What in the actual fuck?” across the apartment.

Michelle’s heart dropped as she found that Vicki was in the bathroom where the floor was still covered in soap and water from where Michelle had been cleaning it. She left that way when Vicki came home and now —

Now Vicki was covered in soap and water and holding her head. “What in the actual fuck?” Vicki said again as Michelle appeared in the bathroom.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Wasserman,” Michelle said. Her body was going into overdrive as it panicked. The explanation tumbled out of her all at once as each word knocked down the one before it in a rush to get out. “I was cleaning the bathroom floor when you came home, and I didn’t think you’d be back so early, and —”

Vicki tried to rise to her feet, but she slipped again, one of her heels snapping as she fell back against the floor and cried out in pain. Michelle watched; her eyes wide with horror knowing that whatever pain Vicki suffered would be turned on her tenfold.

“Let me help you,” she said. But when she reached for Vicki’s hand, the curvy woman slapped her in the face rather than take Michelle’s help.

“You. Could have.” Vicki slowly rose to her feet, holding onto the wall to brace her. “Killed me.”

“I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. I thought I had more time before —”

Vicki slapped her again. “You’re damn right it won’t happen again.”

Michelle looked down, afraid to look into the cold eyes of her Mistress’s wife. But Vicki grabbed her chin and jerked it up. “Look at me.” Vicki slapped her again.

“When I.”

Slap.

“Talk.”

Slap.

“To you.”

Slap.

Vicki pushed Michelle with both hands, and the cow stumbled back, slipping on the soapy floor, and hitting her head on the marble sink. She cried out in pain and reached for it, but Vicki was faster.

“Feel that?” Vicki said as she grabbed a fistful of Michelle’s hair. “Fucking hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wasserman,” Michelle said. Her vision blurred.

“No. You don’t. You see —”

Vicki looked up. Eloise was standing in the doorway, watching her wife beat her cow. Michelle glanced at her lover but then looked away. She knew who Eloise would pick if she was forced to choose.

“Vicki, it was an accident,” Eloise said. “You proved your point, and she won’t do it —”

Vicki let go of Michelle’s hair and stepped in front of Eloise, holding onto the sink so she didn’t sleep again. She slapped the slender dark-haired woman once. Twice. Three times.

“You can either fuck a cunt or be fucked like a cunt,” Vicki said. “Choose now.”

Eloise didn’t look at Michelle. She stared into her wife’s eyes, trying to maintain control. In a moment, Vicki could have Eloise strapped to a bed and shove Milk down her throat. Eloise knew it. They all knew it. And in another moment, Eloise could have security remove Vicki and take the floor out from the Barn, the Farm, and all of Vicki’s projects. Vicki knew it. They all knew it.

Stalemate.

Eloise glanced down to Michelle. “Let’s fuck the cunt in our bedroom.” She turned and left casually, and when Vicki turned back to Michelle, she had a wicked smile on her face. Without warning, she grabbed Michelle’s hair and dragged her out of the bathroom. Michelle tried to crabwalk backwards, to ease the tension in her hair and the pain on her scalp, but Vicki was moving too quickly.

But Michelle didn’t cry out. They had hurt her before, and she knew how her body responded. They were sadists, and she was a masochist. It was a simple exchange. But normally they played with a safety net — even if it was the safety of a scene or the comfort of intimacy. That was gone. There was only Vicki’s rage and Michelle’s flesh to suffer it.

Yet the cow still wanted to moo when she cried out in pain.

The Wassermans dragged her to their bed, and Eloise wordlessly strapped Michelle to it. They had leather straps attached to the frame that were reinforced with steel braces. While she worked, Vicki quickly took off her own clothes. When she was naked and Eloise was still working, she hastily took off her wife’s clothes. Then she ripped off Michelle’s maid uniform. It was okay. She had more. They had destroyed plenty in the past, and her Milk had ruined dozens.

“Fuck,” Vicki sighed as she looked at her naked cow. “She’s leaking.”

“She’ll change the sheets when we’re done,” Eloise said as she tightened the cuffs and straps. Michelle was spread eagle with each limb reaching for a corner of the bed. Vicki stepped into the spare walk-in closet that they used for their BDSM toys. She stepped out with a riding crop that she loved to spank Michelle with. But there was no playful glint in her eyes. She examined the crop and then shook her head, going back into the closet.

“She’s going to hurt you,” Eloise said. “A lot.”

Michelle looked up at her lover. “I know.”

Eloise shook her head. “No. You don’t.”

“I want it.”

Eloise smiled. She ran a hand over Michelle’s face, still sticky with her pussy juices from earlier that day. “Good cow,” Eloise said. “And we want it too.”

Michelle blushed. She was safe. In a manner of speaking, she was safe. Though her head may fear what came next, her body wanted it. Her pussy needed it. Her heart accepted it.

But then Vicki came out with the whip in her hand.

“Oh god,” Michelle said.

Vicki tossed a dildo gag to Eloise. “Gag her,” she said.

Eloise hesitated.

“You can ride her while I remind her of her place.” Vicki flicked the whip and let it land dangerously close to Eloise. “Or you can gag yourself and get to work fucking her pussy with it. I can just as easily beat two of you.”

Eloise was quick to apply the gag to Michelle’s face, and then she stood by the bed, waiting for further instructions from Vicki.

They all waited.

Vicki tossed the whip back and forth. Michelle had never seen it before in any of their sessions. She knew they had a flail they used, but it didn’t hurt too much — just a sharp sting. This looked different, like something out of a true torture chamber. Vicki seemed to be considering it. Did she really want to whip Michelle? And then where? Across the thighs? The arms? The belly? Her tits? No. The tits were valuable.

“Plsh,” Michelle said through the gag. The thick pink dildo was extruding out of mouth, and there was a ball on the other side for her to bite down on, but she hoped Vicki could understand her. Otherwise, how would she beg them to stop?

“Don’t look at me that way,” Vicki said. “I can’t fucking stand it.” She stepped closer. “You act like you’re terrified, but we both know —” Vicki reached down and ran a finger between Michelle’s legs. “We both know you’re fucking soaked.”

She was right. Of course she was right. Vicki was always right. No matter how cruel or abusive she was, she was right. Michelle only got what she deserved. And what she wanted.

Vicki held the whip tight in her hand, most of it coiled tight. “Fuck!” she roared and slammed the whip down against Michelle’s fleshy thigh. Michelle cried out in pain, but the gag muted her. Muffled like that with a pink cock extruding from her mouth, it sounded like a moan. Or a moo.

“Stop looking at me that way,” Vicki said. She let the coils of the whip fall to the ground. “I’m so fucking tired of all these goddamn cows looking at me like I’m a psychopath. I’m not the one guzzling Milk and rubbing it all over my tits.” Vicki pulled back her arm and swung with all her might, letting the long lines of the whip snap against Michelle’s thighs. Thin lines of white blossomed into bright and thick red as the skin immediately swelled and a faint line of blood appeared. The pain was white and awful, but it cleared Michelle’s mind. There was the stupid lust of a cow somewhere back there as Milk spurted from Michelle’s erect nipples. But the part of her brain that couldn’t ignore the deranged look in Vicki’s eyes knew she could easily die here. Vicki would have some way to get rid of the body. No one else in the world cared about Michelle other than Eloise, and the waif-ish dark-haired domme stood by and did nothing as Vicki prepared to murder the cow.

Michelle had nobody.

Michelle was nobody.

And yet her tits leaked.

And yet her pussy was soaked.

And yet she thrust her hips, begging for more.

And yet, she mooed through her gag.

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” Vicki said. “You fucking disgust me.” She crawled on top of Michelle, straddling her. She dropped the whip and grabbed Michelle’s nipples. She twisted hard, not like a lover playing rough, but like a mad toddler trying to see if they could remove the nipples with their bare hands. Milk spurted everywhere. Michelle felt it fall on her face and over her stomach. Even down to her toes there was Milk. And of course, all over Vicki’s hands and face, there was the glorious Milk coating the thick strawberry blonde woman.

“See that?” Vicki said as she twisted harder. Michelle tried to cry out in pain, but the gag stopped her. It would have come out as a moo anyways. She knew it. They knew it. Everyone knew it. She was a filthy fucking cow, and she liked it.

That was her problem.

She liked it.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Vicki said. “All of you fucking cows. And you have the audacity to look at me like I’m the disgusting one?” Vicki let go of Michelle’s nipples. There was nothing but fury in her eyes. She hated Michelle. Hated her. And Michelle wanted it. She needed it. She needed to be hated. To be beaten. To be destroyed. She didn’t know why, but deep down, she knew it was always coming to this. A kind of sexual self-immolation. Eloise was the gasoline. The Milk was the spark.

Vicki slapped Michelle. “STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!”

“Vicki,” Eloise said softly.

Vicki glared at her and tossed the whip at her wife. Eloise fumbled it and failed to catch it. “Ride her fucking face, Eloise. I’m tired of her and all these fucking cows looking at me like I’m the villain. And don’t you dare join them. Face the wall and fuck her face. Now.”

There was a long pause as the two women stared at each other. Michelle was afraid Vicki would ruin everything. Yes, the cow deserved to be punished. But not Eloise. Eloise deserved to be praised, to be worshiped.

Finally, Eloise wordlessly swung her leg over Michelle’s face and squatted low, inserting the dildo gag into her pussy — Fuck, she is soaked, thought Michelle — and lowering herself over the cow, facing the wall away from Vicki.

“Ride her,” Vicki said. “I don’t want her looking at me anymore.”

Eloise obeyed, thrusting the dildo deeper and deeper inside of herself as she rode Michelle’s face. It did nothing for Michelle’s body. It brought neither pleasure nor pain. Only the fact that she was bringing Eloise pleasure did anything for her. She prayed that she would have her face covered in more and more of Eloise’s juices, that at the end of all this, when she was broken and bleeding from Vicki’s abuse, that Eloise would lick her face clean and tell her what a good cow she was.

But Michelle didn’t have time to fantasize.

“Stupid fucking cows,” Vicki growled. “And this one is so fucking ungrateful. She should be in the Barn and have her brains fucked out by strange cocks non-stop for weeks on end. Then we’ll see if she looks at me with fear. No. By then she’ll be dead inside. She’ll look up at me with her bovine eyes while someone plows her from behind, and she won’t even have the dignity to moan then.”

Michelle tried to lift her head to see what Vicki was doing, but Eloise was grinding deeper and deeper, moaning while her hips, knees, and abs pulsed to make sure the dildo stroked her g-spot and went as deep as possible. Michelle’s nose kissed Eloise’s clit over and over, driving the dark-haired domme further into ecstasy.

“Mhmmmmn!” Michelle shrieked into her gag as a huge strap-on plunged into her soaked pussy.

“That’s right, little cow,” Vicki said with another thrust. “Moo for me.” She pulled back and thrust hard, shaking the entire bed with all three women on it as she fucked Michelle hard. The cow wished she could bend her legs or lift them over her head, something to get more comfortable. But it wasn’t about her comfort. And whatever size the dildo was that Vicki was wearing, it wasn’t designed for comfort or pleasure either. It was designed for stretching and pain. Michelle got plenty of both as Vicki thrust into her over and over, and with each pounding, Michelle punctuated Vicki’s motion with a moan.

“Mmmm, that’s right, babe,” Eloise said. “Fuck her with that horse cock.”

As Michelle was fucked and used, she thought she could slip into heaven. She prayed Vicki would fuck her hard while Eloise sat on her face, and her nipples would leak Milk while the two women had their fun. But Vicki wasn’t done. Vicki was never done.

Michelle gasped when she felt the cold hands of Vicki Wasserman wrap around her throat. Her eyes were wide with fear, and though she tried to look at Vicki, the constant bouncing from Eloise made that impossible.

“Don’t look so surprised, you fucking cow,” Vicki said. “Jesus, I’m so fucking tired of that dumb surprised look on your face. Acting like some victim? You’re not a victim.”

Eloise slowed down her riding as she turned to face Vicki. “Don’t stop riding her until you’ve cum fourteen more times.” Vicki scooped some of Michelle’s Milk off her tits. “Unless you want a sample, future cow?”

Eloise hesitated, but only for a moment. In a breath, she was back to riding Michelle’s face and moaning while Vicki’s hands were tight around Michelle’s neck again.

“Now, where was I?” Vicki asked as she squeezed tight. Michelle’s vision blurred as she starved for air. “Oh, that’s right.” Vicki thrust again, and Michelle wanted to moan, but there was nothing inside her.

“I was telling you what a pathetic, disgusting, fat, and worthless whore you were,” Vicki said with a cruel laugh. “Because you think you’re the victim in this story, that you’ve gotten some bad deal.”

Vicki thrust hard as the lights seemed to dim in the room in Michelle’s fading mind.

“But you’re not a victim, are you?”

Thrust.

“You’re a shitty mother that abandoned her children.”

Thrust.

“And a two-timing worthless cunt of a wife that cheated on her injured husband when he needed her most.”

Thrust.

“And a dumb fucking brainless secretary.”

Thrust.

“You did this to yourself.”

Thrust.

“All for some fucking Milk.”

Thrust.

The lights in the room went out as everything went black. Michelle eased into it, her final moment, as she accepted the truth of Vicki’s words and Eloise came again and again. Even Michelle felt a budding orgasm as Vicki thrust the massive horse cock deeper inside her. It would be the last thing she ever did before she died; she would cum one last time. How fitting for a cow slut like her?

Thrust.

“No one wants you,” Vicki said.

Thrust.

“Not me.”

Thrust.

Michelle’s thighs quivered as her dying orgasm rippled through her body.

Thrust.

“Not even Eloise.”

Thrust.

“No one.”

Thrust.

Vicki let go of Michelle’s throat and the woman gasped for air.

Thrust.

“So stop acting so fucking scared.”

Thrust.

Thrust.

Thrust.

“And start acting grateful, you stupid fucking cow.”

Thrust.

Michelle mooed through the gag as the orgasm took her. Vicki moaned, her whole body shaking as she came along with her useless cow. She collapsed onto Michelle, and Eloise slipped off Michelle’s face, her own body covered in sweat as her chest heaved from her dozen or so orgasms.

Heat, sweat, and panting filled the room along with silence. All three women were worn out, and Michelle’s body was bruised and the sharp lines from her whipping were still across her thighs. She had a pounding headache from the lack of air, and she imagined there would be bruising on her throat in the morning.

But her face was covered in Eloise’s juices.

And her pussy thrummed with life.

And her tits leaked with Milk.

And life was good. She didn’t understand it anymore, but she preferred a life that scared and confused her while being thrilling and satisfying over a safe life that was boring and pointless.

After a while, Vicki licked her lips and then spat something out. She sat up and rubbed her mouth with the back of her hands and spat out again onto the bedsheets. She looked down at Michelle while her horse cock dildo was still inside her cow.

“Have I made my point?” she asked.

Michelle nodded.

“Good. Now change the sheets. I’ll order dinner, but I could use a massage after that.”

Vicki slid out of Michelle unceremoniously. Her strawberry blonde hair was damp and pinned to her face. “I’m taking a shower,” she said as she headed into the walk-in closet. “Take care of her, Eloise.”

Eloise said nothing to her wife, but instead focused her attention on Michelle. She took the gag off first. “Are you alright?” she asked.

Michelle nodded. She tried to speak, but her throat burned. After a fit of coughing, she was able to center herself enough to say, “Thank you, Mrs. Wasserman.”

Eloise laughed and then stopped herself, holding her hand over her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, you stupid, beautiful cow,” she said. “You’ve been such a good girl.”

She bent down and kissed Michelle tenderly. Part of Michelle wished her Mistress would lick her face clean again, but Eloise didn’t. She kissed Michelle like a lover. “You’ve always been such a good, good girl.”

“But I —”

“Shhh.” Eloise covered Michelle’s mouth with her hand and climbed onto the bed, snuggling next to her cow. “You are such a good girl. You’ve done everything right, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wasserman.”

“She’s not always like that.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

“I get what I deserve.”

Eloise sat up. “You don’t get nearly what you deserve, do you hear me?”

Michelle blushed. “Yes, Mrs. Wasserman.”

“You are a sub. You are my cow. But you are not worthless. Do you hear me?” Eloise gave Michelle another quick kiss. “You are not worthless.”

“Yes, Mrs. Wasserman.”

Eloise held her like that for a long time. Across the apartment, Michelle heard Vicki order dinner, and she worried that she should get up and get back to work, but Eloise didn’t move. She held her. She kissed Michelle’s neck from time to time and kept whispering, “Good girl” and “Good cow.”

Vicki started her shower, and still Eloise didn’t move. When Vicki’s shower was done, she came in, saw the two women cuddling, huffed, and stormed out of the room, muttering about when dinner would arrive because she was nauseous from her hunger.

“I need to change the sheets,” Michelle finally said. Her voice was hoarse and small.

“I’ll do it. Here, you sit in my chair.” Eloise helped Michelle stand up and moved her to a lush, upholstered armchair. Then Michelle watched as Eloise Wasserman changed the sheets.

For her.

“We’ll be free of her one day,” Eloise said. “Both of us.”

“I think that might be soon,” Michelle said through a whisper.

Eloise stopped making the bed and looked at Michelle. “What do you mean?”

“I think she got some of my Milk in her mouth, Mistress,” Michelle said. “We should have a new cow for the barn soon.”

Eloise laughed, and it wasn’t cruel or demeaning. It was free, clear, and delightful. Michelle laughed along with her. And then Eloise was standing in front of her, bending down to kiss the older woman lightly and lovingly on the lips.

“When that happens, you can call me Eloise,” she said. “Or lover.” She laughed freely. “I don’t give a fuck; I just never want to be a Wasserman again.”

Michelle kissed her back, and she knew that despite the pain and abuse — which she loved and craved — and the Milk and subservience — that she needed to feel whole — that choosing Eloise was the right call. Somehow, through it all, it was the right call.

So maybe she wasn’t such a stupid and worthless cow, after all.