The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Aphrodite’s Revenge

Chapter 4: An Udder Dilemma

The Queen was as good as her word. The next night she returned eagerly with her handmaidens in tow and they quickly made themselves at home. They set up a small screen for Pasiphae to undress behind where they could take the measurements that I would scribble down on the other side. It was difficult to avert my eyes to the shadowy figure of the curvaceous Pasiphae and to her ladies who ran their hands over every part of her body. For her ladies part, they were under the impression that they were helping to craft a special outfit for the upcoming Festival. In a sense this was true, only not the sort of costume they might expect.

They spent night after night running a measuring cord over every part of her body. I needed ratios—fingers to hands, hand to arms, arms to legs—as well as measurements for every last part of her if this coupling was going to be a success. And when I say every part, I mean every part…

“I will need the queen’s chest measurements,” I called over the screen one night, as I watched a lady wrap the cord around the Queen’s ample breasts. “I will need to know circumference as well as the degree of hang…”

“My good man!”

The screen was just tall enough to block everything but the Queen and her ladies’ faces and the one holding the cord now looked upon me in righteous indignation and astonishment.

“This is your Queen you speak of!”

“Oh…I…um…” I wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“It is fine ladies,” the Queen explained easily, as only one skilled in courtly intrigues could. “This is a special costume, remember. I am having it made for Minos, if you understand me.”

“Oh Your Majesty, of course! How could we be so foolish.”

“We only thought…!”

“And right in time for the Festival of the White Bull, too!”

“Can you tell us what it is?”

Pasiphae just smiled slyly as she stretched her arms out gracefully for the cord to be wrapped around her back. “Even a Queen needs her secrets.”

“I bet it is the goddess Isis!”

“No, I bet a lady Pharaoh’s costume.”

“I bet it is something that shimmers like gold but that can be seen through in the light of the moon.”

“Oh, you have the happiest marriage in all the world, Your Highness. The King will be so pleased, whatever it is.”

“Yes,” Pasiphae agreed serenely, as her maids ran my cord her breasts, “but remember not to tell him. I want it to be a surprise.”

When I had those numbers added to my notes it was time to take the most…vital of all numbers. But how do I tell her maids this?

“Um…I need…what I mean is…now I need to get the measurements for…”

“Perhaps it would be best,” Pasiphae suggested, “if you ladies took a break. It has a been a long night after all. I’m sure I can take these next measurements on my own.”

“But my Queen,” they protested, “leave you alone in the presence of a man while in a state of undress?!”

“Don’t worry yourself over me, I will be fine. If you dares to look at me I will have his head by the morning. Now go!” She said sweetly, shooing them out of the room with a flick of her hand.

“Now then commoner,” she said as soon as the door had shut behind them, “I think I know what it is that you need.” Through the shadowy paper thin wall of the curtain I watched as Pasiphae leaned over a table, spread her legs wide. “Am I right?”

I said nothing at all, transfixed as I was by the imagine of my sovereign in such a position. It was like…

“AHEM! Daedelas?”

“I…um…” I said, finding my voice dry and hoarse, unable to take my eyes of the inviting silhouette before me. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Don’t you want to tell me what to measure before my handmaidens return?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. Forgive me, it must be the heat from my furnace…”

I tried shielding my eyes as best I could, as she took the cord in her hands and placed it between in her legs. After a few painful minutes I was able to direct her through the curtain as to where I needed each measurement, completing them all before her ladies came back. By the time they returned, Pasiphae was already half dressed.

“See commoner,” she said, pulling her gown over her head, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Then looking over the curtain at me added, “oh, my mistake, it looks like it still is.”

In the weeks that followed the Queen and her maids came to my workshop every night at the same hour and always under the cover of darkness. The handmaidens were a constant nuisance, always underfoot and getting in my way and when they weren’t in my way they we filling my work space with their mindless patterings. Eventually the project developed far enough along that we could no longer risk the presence of her maids, no matter how loyal they might be. It was then that I realized that as much of a nuisance as they might have been, their presence was preferable to the nights I spent with the Queen alone. At least with her maidens present Pasiphae was forced to hide her madness, something she found increasingly difficult to do. Each night I was forced to play witness to a madness that was tightening its grip on her, bending her will to serve another’s.

On such night I sat at my workbench, pouring over the details of my careful design, while the Queen paced a furious tread back and forth behind me, looking over my shoulder again and again, seeming to have a skill for interrupting me at just the wrong moment…

“What’s that?” She asked, thrusting an arm over my shoulder and pointing at a parchment I had just been working on.

“What? Oh, that. Don’t worry about that, we don’t even need to go over that parchment yet.”

“But what is it?”

“Sigh. It’s just an equation. Perhaps you could attend the furnace for me while I…”

“What’s it do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? If it is nothing then why did you write it?”

I sighed. “It is an equation comparing the ratio of the bull’s weight to the sturdiness of the curved oak that I plan to cover your lower back with.”

“So it isn’t nothing. If it was not nothing then why did you just say it was nothing?”

“Your Majesty! I am never going to any of finish this if you keep asking questions.”

“I…yes, right. Of course. I’m sorry. I don’t know what has come over me. Sometime I feel like is something in my mind controlling me, making me ask…” but another blueprint caught her eye. “What is that one for?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s what you said last time and it wasn’t nothing.”

I sighed. It was like dealing with a child. “It is a drawing of where I am going to hide the wheels inside of the hooves.” I saw her open her mouth to ask another question. “Perhaps Your Highness would like to sit?”

“I prefer to stand.”

“You aren’t standing. You’re pacing.”

“Then I prefer to pace.”

“You look tired,” I said, and in truth she did as each night seemed to take a greater toll on the Queen. Her hair was a little less perfect each night, her grace a little less polished, and tonight I had come to see circles under her eyes. “You really should sit, rest would do you good.”

“I cannot rest, not until I have had my bull. Besides, I can’t sit,” she said at last. “If I sit I get…excited.”

“Excited? What do you mean exci…?” but her eyes told me precisely what she meant. “Oh! You mean…”

“Yes,” she snapped irritably. “It is quite vexing.”

“Surely not every time…”

“EVERY time.”

Was the Queen really telling me she achieved climax just by sitting? I tried to play it off—“But that isn’t so bad. I know a lot of people that would love it if they could so easily feel pleasure by…” But with a shock, I realized why she was so tired and irritable. “Unless, of course, you only get excited but you can’t…”

She nodded: “And I can’t.”

“But…not at ALL?”

“No, not at all. Not a single time. I used to quite easily, but ever since I first saw the bull I feel like I am right on the edge of one but can’t…” But here her voice trailed away and she put a hand to her head in sorrow. “Oh, why I am telling you this? What am I doing? I’m scared, Daedelas. Sometimes I feel as though someone else is telling me what to think and say and I have no will of my own. I know my desire is not natural and yet…I can think of nothing else.”

“Perhaps it is just the summer heat affecting Your Majesty? It is said that the summer air can play tricks on the minds of women. Maybe if you waited until the cooler months your desire would go away like a forgotten reverie?”

She shook her head sadly. “I would never make it. If you don’t build this costume for me I will throw myself at the beast. I am desperate for this. I must have relief from the fire that runs through my veins. It is all I can think of in my waking hours and it is all I dream of when I sleep. Did you know last night my handmaidens said I was sleep walking through the palace?

“That is not so bad. Lots of people…”

“Without any clothes on. What the palace guard must have thought…”

“Well…it is hot out and you can’t help what you wear or don’t wear when you are asleep.”

“I feel asleep fully clothed but when I was found in the grand hall I was completely naked.”

“You can’t help what you do when your mind is asleep.

“Chanting about the white bull?”

“I see.”

“The night before that I had to explain to Minos why I had bramble in my hair at breakfast. I couldn’t very well tell him that I spend many of my nights in the pastures with the bull. I doubt if he would understand.”

“No, I don’t think he would.”

“So you see Daedelas why I cannot wait much longer for this creation of yours to be finished. Each night my need grows ever more urgent and I fear that soon I will lose my mind entirely. Even now I feel as though…” But she just shook her head and she motioned to me to return to my blueprints. “Return to your work. I will not to disturb you further. I am sorry to have delayed you as much as I have.”

I returned to my current drawing, confident this time that I would be able to complete my work, but before I could set chalk to parchment…

“WAIT! What are THOSE?” She pointed accusingly at the diagram I was working on.

“That’s the cow.”

“No,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “THOSE.”

“What, those?” I looked to where she was pointing. “Those are the udders.”

She glared at me. “They are too big.”

“What?!”

“You heard me—they are too big. Did you do that on purpose?”

“What…no! I’m trying to make this cow as accurate as possible.”

“I told you I wanted this to be a pretty cow, the prettiest in the herd, not some common harlot-cow with large, swinging udders underneath it. Is that what you think of me?”

“What?! What does how I think of you have anything to do with the size of your udders?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Pasiphae said softly, turning away angrily from the diagram. “How could you, you aren’t a woman.” She sighed. “I hate cows.”

“What does this have to do with the size of your…?”

She laughed a sad and bitter little laugh. “A woman wouldn’t ask that, she would understand!”

As arrogant as she might be, she was not unworthy of my pity. I poured her a goblet of wine from my worktable. “Here, perhaps this would help.”

She looked half surprised by the offered goblet as if no one had ever offered her anything before that wasn’t out of a sense of duty or obligation, which I supposed was the true. “Yes…yes, it would. Thank you. That is very kind.”

“Now maybe if you explained it to me it would help?”

“I very much doubt it but…very well, Daedelas,” she sighed, taking a sip gratefully from the wine. “You do not spend a lot of time at court, do you?”

I confessed that I spent as little as possible.

“Well, when this is all over you will have to find the time to be in attendance more regularly. For when you do you will quickly discover one thing about court—all the ladies there are cows.”

“Cows?”

“Cows,” she repeated, bitterly, taking a deeper sip. “Every last one of them. They are big eyed and emptied headed, just like cows, but most of all they are easily contented. Nothing makes them quite so happy as to be penned to their estates, just like a cow to its pasture, to be taken care of by their husbands. Clasp a necklace around their pretty little necks like a shepherd might bell a cow and you own them life. Can you imagine what it must be like to be the one woman at court with a spark of intellect and an ambition to rule? Even if I am Queen, it is not easy.”

“Yes, I imagine it must be difficult.” I admitted. “But I still don’t understand what this has to do with the udders?”

“Men! You never grasp the subtleties. Once more let me make it plain for you Daedelas—do you know what else these fine, pretty, empty-headed little cows at court all have in common? Giant breasts, almost every single one of them! It is obvious what traits the men of my court judge a woman by! They select their wives much like a merchant assesses a cow at the market. I am a woman fit to rule a boundless empire, not some vacant headed cow to be penned to the palace breeding like a brood mare.”

“I think I am starting to understand.”

Pasiphae downed the rest of her wine. “And these ladies—these COWS!—are jealous of me Daedelas, jealous because I am not so easily contented like them. They cannot understand my ambition for power and they hate me for it. They can’t imagine why Minos chose me and not them. And yet,” Pasiphae sighed sadly, shaking her head, “for all of this, sometimes I wonder if Minos would not prefer me to be such a big breasted, emptied headed cow…”

“My Queen,” I said, seeing where her madness was leading toward. “Surely not. Why else would the King have chosen you if not for your mind? No one who saw you would ever mistake you for a…”

“Cow?” She smiled bitterly, looking back at my design. “Yes. And yet, let us hope that they do. Because if not…”

A long moment stretched between us. Finally Pasiphae spoke again, this time her voice less like a sovereign’s and more like a frail, scared woman.

“Those cows at court would love for nothing more than to see me humbled. If they or anyone were ever to learn that I wanted to dress myself as a cow and spend my nights in the pasture…” She turned and looked at me with eyes as sad and as tormented as any I have ever seen. “Well, it would not go well for me.”

“I won’t let that happen,” I said and without realizing it I had put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned away from me angrily.

“I do not need your pity, COMMONER, just your skills.” And then standing tall and proud, stretching herself to her full length: “Do your work and when you are done make sure that when you are finished that all who see their Queen will think her a…” and here Pasiphae wrinkled up her nose in disgust: “cow.”

I bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She looked bitterly at the design before her. “Your design is perfect; painfully so. See to it that you complete it as quickly as possible. I will anxiously await word from you in the palace and will return at night when all is ready. You can then push me into the royal fields. Until that night it would be best if I not return here again. My mind is increasingly not my own. Hurry Daedelas, I do not know how much time I have left before I go completely mad.”

“I will, Your Majesty.”

“I know you will,” she nodded and turned to leave. She opened the door but paused on the threshold. “Oh and Daedelas?”

“Yes my Queen?”

“Don’t exaggerate the udders.”

And with that she closed the door and was gone.

Chapter 5 — A Fitting Punishment

I spent a fortnight completing the Queen’s project, working on nothing else and sleeping vey little. Even as far away as my workshop was from the palace, I heard tales of the Queen’s increasingly erratic behavior. I tried to pay these stories little mind and concentrated on my work.

I finished the last modifications to the cow appropriately enough on the eve of the Festival of the White Bull and sent word to the Queen to meet me in my workshop the next night. It was a thing of beauty, built as two halves that would fit together with the Queen inside of it with a fake head and false rump that I would attach to the two halves.

Imagine my surprise then when I awoke at dawn to give the Queen’s costume one last look over when Pasiphae unceremoniously pushed open my door and staggered into my workshop with the first rays of light shining behind her. She was mumbling unintelligibly and looked nothing like her normal self.

“My bull, my bull, my bull,” she panted, again and again.

“Your Highness, why have you not waited for nightfall?!”

But Pasiphae did not seem to hear me and I knew at once that something was terribly wrong—her normally proud, tall posture was replaced with shoulders slumped forward and her keen, penetrating eyes were dull and glassy. Her hair, always so immaculately done in flowing braids and adorned with priceless jewels was half done up and half disheveled as if she had tried to do it herself and given up the effort. Even her crown sat partially askew on her head as if it might fall off at any moment. She stumbled into my workshop, seemingly half asleep, panting, and knocking herself clumsily into one of my tables, sending the tools falling to the ground.

The sound of my crashing tools seemed to awaken her from her dream state.

“…my bull, my bull…oh! Where…where am I? Da…Daedelas is that you?”

“Yes my Queen, and you are here, safe in my workshop.” I had never seen her without makeup before, nor so pale. And the circles under her eyes…

“Daedelas you have to help me! I’m desperate. I must have this now or…,” she pleaded, hurrying frantically toward me but tripped over one of my tables, “Oh!” . She fell forward, gripping the ends of a table to steady herself as she panted like an animal in heat.

“Daedelas!” she panted, “It must be now. I need it now. I need the bull! I have never needed anything as much as I need this. You must make this happen. Now!” she demanded again and again in a deep, husky voice. “It must be now! My bull, my bull, my bull…”

Although it had been a couple of weeks since I had seen the Queen last I was shocked by how much deeper into madness she had fallen. It was like she was almost more animal in heat than woman.

“But Your Majesty, I think the summer heat is clouding your better judgement. It is only just now dawn, it would be best if we waited until it is dark so as…”

“NOW!”

“I…I do not question Your Majesty, I only wish to remind your majesty that privacy was a key concern when you…”

“This heat is unbearable,” she moaned, not hearing a word I was saying, pressing her face onto the dusty surface of my workbench. “I am in heat. I am in heat! By the gods, I am in heat for the white bull!!!”

“I…I suppose I could ready the device for an earlier fitting than we had planned. Maybe then we could discuss when to…”

“Yes! Do so, now, without delay!” She let go of the table and took a few steps towards me. “Oh Daedelas, there is a terrible buzzing in my mind…I can’t concentrate and it’s like someone is whispering in my ear, telling me what to do. And all I can hear is it telling me how beautiful my white bull is and…OH!” She stumbled forward, tripping over her own feet and falling hard against me, clinging to me like a woman drowning in a storm. Pressed against my chest she looked up at me with mad, pleading, beautiful eyes, her breath coming in short, rasping breaths like a woman on the verge of climax: “Sometimes I wish you were the white bull.”

“My Queen, what do you mean…?” I nearly choked on the words, not understanding what she could mean by that. But before I continue any further Pasiphae’s madness cut me off.

“He has rejected me every night, Daedelas. I’ve tried so many times, I’ve tried so hard, but he has always rejected me. But not this time, I saw it in my dreams last night. He is waiting for me right now in the fields. And this time he will finally return my love at last. I was always destined to be with him, I knew it the minute I saw him. He is so beautiful.” And here she looked up at me with imploring eyes of insanity: “I love him, Daedelas, I love him so much it hurts. I want to be with him, always and forever. He is the most perfect creature I have ever seen and I can think of nothing else but him. I must have him,” she whispered, her voice dry and hollow, “and he must have me. If I do not have him this night I will end my life. Please, please, please do as you promised!”

“Of course, my Queen, everything is ready, just as you have ordered.” I said, wrapping my arms around her to steady her while trying to hide my alarm. Her eyes were insane, filled with an untamed, monstrous lust like I have never seen before. “But are you sure that no one saw you on your way here?”

“I don’t care, none of that matters now! I just…I must…I…my bull, my bull, my bull…” she panted torturously, the words coming out of her in snatches now, as if at any moment she would burst forth in her long awaited orgastic release. “Bull…I can’t…bull!…think. Please Daedelas…bull!…now…please. Put …bull!…put me…bull!…in the …costume…bull!…now. You must…you must…,” Her breathing became deep and labored, as if she were working up to something. “I…bull!…I…need it…bull!…so…badly… Daedelas please…” Her head slumped against my chest and I knew that the delirium of her lust had claimed her at last. “Buuuullll…”

“My Queen? Now, are you sure?”

“Buuuulll!” She clung to me desperately, every fiber of her exuding lust. She was too far gone to whisper anything more into my chest than a hoarse, throaty: “Please!”

“Very well, it shall be done. This way Your Majesty.” I motioned for her to follow me to my creation but she was so unwieldy and so far gone she bumped into my work table and nearly tripped over her own feet again. In her lust maddened state she had all the grace of a cow.

I gulped hard. All the grace of a cow?

“Here, let me help you, Your Majesty,” I took her by the hand to steer here around my tables. Even this slight contact with the Queen’s flesh was enough to have me imprisoned and tortured to death. “Are…are you sure you want to do this? It isn’t too late to turn back. I could perhaps find a cure, or another means of alleviating your desire. My Queen? Pasiphae?”

I winced realizing that I had just used the Queen’s actual name, but she said nothing as if deep in a trance. I swallowed hard a second time: her mind was an empty as a cow’s.

I looked from the bottom half of the cow frame to Pasiphae. She swayed slightly from side to side, and I was half afraid that if I let her go that she would topple over. Her skirt would have to be hiked up to her waist before entering the cow but my efforts were frustrated by the elaborately latched gems and intricately tied laces that bound her dress about her legs. I would have to undo the latching before I could pull her dress up.

These was not as easy as it seemed. I steadied Pasiphae against the bottom half of the cow and knelt down to undo her skirt. She swayed about like a woman besotted with too much wine making my job that much more difficult.

“You really must stand still. Now let me see if I can detach these things…” I muttered, trying to undo all her needlessly intricate lace and jewelry. But her unsteady nature made an already tedious task nearly impossible. “Let me just see if I can…”

“Silly man,” she giggled, as my hands touched the flesh of her ankle as I tried to undo her bindings. “Siiilly, inventor maaaan. Mmm!…” Skilled as I was working with gears and pulleys, I had no experience in frivolities such as these.

Pasiphae hummed happily to herself as I looked the situation over with an engineer’s mind for detail. I had no idea how her laces and gem-latching worked and her inability to stand still gave me little chance to learn. What was I to do?

“Silly inventor,” she giggled again before pouting like one drunk on too much wine: “I just want it, is that so wrong? Why can’t I just have it? All I want is my big, beautiful bull to love me back. Why won’t anyone understand that? My people should want me to be happy.”

There was only solution: I would have to tear the dress from Pasiphae’s body if I was to fit her to the cow. She would have to be completely naked within the cow.

“Minos should be happy for me,” she continued in a far away voice as I knelt down and grabbed at her hemline. “Doesn’t he want his wife to be happy? I don’t say anything about his mistresses.”

“Okay, let’s see here…”

“He shouldn’t have given me the bull if he didn’t want me to play with it.”

“If you did not have such expensive taste this would have been much easier for the both of us!” I scolded Pasiphae, trying not to listen to her mad ravings.

“He’d have such a happier wife if he would just let me get some.”

“There, I think I have it…here goes…”

With a loud ripping sound I tore at least a foot of silk from her dress.

“Is it so wrong to want a little bull co…AAH!” Pasiphae jumped, startled by the sound of her dress tearing but her mind was still far away. “Oh my…”

I tore at another piece, its worth alone was probably more than an entire village made in an year. This time Pasiphae just smiled, pursing her lips up and moaning in delight. “Oooh….mmm!”

I continued to tear strips of clothing from her until I had uncovered her ankles and her calves. The sound of her garment being rent apart filled my workshop and Pasiphae’s befuddled mind too, moaning her pleasure and running her hands through her hair with each new sound of her impending nakedness. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her dark mind it seemed to be exciting her. I stripped her an inch at a time, up to her thighs and then her waist, then tearing the cloth from her chest that she pushed forward helpfully and then finally her sleeves from her outstretched arms until nothing was left but the crown upon her head.

I staggered back stunned by what I had just done. I had to look, I had no choice. I might be a man of gears and numbers but I was still a man and I hungered to see what until now, had only ever been glimpsed by Minos and a few select handmaidens.

I should never have looked for at once I was overcome with an ungovernable passion of my own. She was pure ethereal bliss blended with darkest, animal obsession all in one perfect human form. Pasiphae was a goddess made flesh, a perfect statue come to life, and yet I knew this warm, inviting body also housed the soul of a cold, calculating, arrogant, haughty queen.

But at this moment I did not care about her faults. I saw none of her flaws but only her perfect female form. Her flesh was soft and white, white like the moon, and her skin as flawless as marble. Her dark midnight hair—her pride and joy—went the length of her back cascading down to the small of her back. And her legs, those long beautiful legs, made a lengthy, shapely journey up to her inviting thighs where waited the softest, silkiest, darkest triangle a man had ever seen, invoking within me feelings I dare not set to paper. I knew then what it meant to feel like an animal, to feel like a bull, for Pasiphae’s naked figure aroused in me my most basic and savage nature

The only garment that remained on Pasiphae was the crown that sat so precariously on her head.

She was all flawless beauty save for one feature that made my mouth drop. She was big. Or rather, they were big. Her beasts, that is. I mean…BIG. Enormously big. They were round and gleaming like pale white twin moons, and so…so…impossible! Where the rest of her body hinted at seduction and grace, her breasts were just the opposite—big, round and shamefully obvious. They did not fit with the rest of her at all. This was not the subtly of a Queen but the obviousness of a co…

I bit down hard refusing to finish that thought. I tried to look away but I couldn’t. With almost no waist at all and long, shapely legs, Pasiphae was almost all breasts and legs. I knew now why she had walked slumped over and had moved about so ungainly! Just the the slightest of movement in any part of her body caused those breasts to sway and dip and…

But then my engineer’s mind reasserted itself—I was nothing if not a man of numbers, shapes and equations. Grabbing my measuring string I wrapped the cord around Pasiphae’s waist. Making a mental note of the number I raised her arms up and wrapped it around her again, this time just under her shoulders. Then, with admittedly shaking hands, I wrapped my cord around the largest part of her breasts, marveling at just how soft and yet firm they were. Pasiphae arched her back for me, pushing her breasts forward, her bright pink nipples insistent that I touch them. I ached to…but then remembered that both Minos and Pasiphae had the power to remove my head from my body.

Hands really trembling now I tore through the diagrams on my workbench until I found the one I was looking for—the list of measurements her maidens had given me just weeks early. My suspicions were confirmed: everything about Pasiphae was the exact same except for her chest. Pasiphae’s breasts had grown. Significantly.

I looked in trepidation from the svelte figure on my diagram to the more bovine figure standing before me. What darkness was at play? And yet all I could think about was how badly I wanted to touch her…

I shook my head of my insane desire and quickly let go before I went down a path that would surely lead to my destruction. She was meant for the bull, not me, but the bull. With great difficulty I took my eyes from the Queen’s naked and mesmerizing figure to that of the cow costume I would have to bind her to. If I didn’t fit her to it soon, I would myself go mad with lust.

I put a tentative hand on the young Queen’s back to steer her and felt a jolt of desire as I guided her toward the cow. She was perfectly content to allow me to guide that I think I could have guided her back to the palace and away from this dark work if not for all the onlookers who surely would have stoned me for such blasphemy. I made the mistake of allowing myself a glance at the dark curls between her legs and the hardness of my desire pressed so insistently upward that I was certain I would tear through my tunic if I looked again.

“Just this way my Queen,” I soothed through gritted teeth. I steered her perfect figure before the opened half shape of the cow, her hourglass figure driving me mad.

I pushed that delicate figure up against the hard backend of the cow where a wooden beam waited to bend her over at the waist. The beam was in the shape of a ramp so that it would bend her hips at an angle, pushing her buttocks upward so that the bull would be better able to achieve penetration. It had been all so theoretical on parchment, but now that the time had arrived…

I swallowed hard with the sudden realization that theory was about to become practice—Pasiphae the queen, was about to become Pasiphae the cow.

Whispering to the gods for forgiveness, I gripped Pasiphae about the waist and hoisted her onto the ramp. It bent her over perfectly, thrusting her cheeks upward with minimal discomfort to her so that her feet now dangled several inches above my workroom floor. Her normally sweet perfume became especially heady now as I took her by the hands and maneuvered her onto the frame. Animal lust coursed through my blood at the sight of the pendulous hang of her breasts as I lowered them into the tight confines of my creation.

Inside the frame I had made a bed of soft leather for Pasiphae to lie on, sort of like a leather hammock, with the sides upholstered in soft padding to keep the queen in place as comfortably as possible. Her head—like her bottom—would poke out of the frame where I would attach the false cow-head and rump once the top was fitted to the bottom half.

As I lowered her onto her leather bedding I thought I noticed Pasiphae winch in discomfort as her breasts spread out beneath her, splaying out not-quite-flat as she lay upon them. Underneath the undercarriage of the frame I noticed two round large indentations made where the Queens breasts now were. There was nothing for it. Had I more time or had I known beforehand just how well endowed Pasiphae was I could have sewn in support cupping, but as it was she would just have to endure the discomfort.

“Is everything to your satisfaction, Your Highness?”

Pasiphae’s head drooped listlessly out of the front end of her unnatural costume. The only noises she made were like those of an animal in heat.

At least her lust induced haze would make for an easy fitting.

I slipped her arms into the forelegs of the cow which I had built up so that the Queen could press her palms flat, inside of which leather straps awaited her which I buckled around her wrists and forearms. I wrapped a similar strap under her shoulders, buckling it tightly over her back, making sure it held her securely. Her docile state was making my work exceptionally easy, which was something I was thankful for given what I would have to do next.

I turned my attention to her hindquarters, trying to avert my eyes from her pedaled opening for fear that sight of it might make a bull of me.

The ramp was not the only part of the cow intended to spread the Queen open. I had built the hindquarters in a way that they would force Pasiphae’s thighs into a “v” position, which the bull would recognize as a cow presenting. As I guided the Queen’s legs into those of the cow, I saw just how well my design worked, spreading her out nicely, stretching apart her those tight, silky cheeks of hers into a most inviting target.

More straps awaited her ankles and calves. I buckled a thicker one around her thighs, just under her protruding buttocks, tying these outward so as spread her legs even further. She gasped in unconscious surprise by the sensation, almost seeming to wake for a moment from her lust induced haze, before returning to obliviousness. Finally I buckled straps around her waist and another just under her breasts, binding Queen to cow and cow to Queen.

I stood back to assess my progress.

It was at once startlingly beautiful and disturbing to behold. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen, inside the most disturbing creation I had ever crafted. Her long flowing hair cascaded down over her face and onto my earthen floor, her slender back still hinting at unparalleled feminine beauty, but the rest of her was hidden, already made bovine and common by her costume. The sooner I no longer had to see her in this hybrid state of half woman, half cow the better. I made ready to attach the top of the frame.

With the help of a set of pulleys and gears, I hoisted the top half of the cow from where it lay atop a workbench, and with difficulty maneuvered its heavy mass across my room so that it hovered precariously over the Queen. Then, to the echoing THUD of wood crashing upon wood, I dropped the frame, sealing Pasiphae within. All that remained visible of her now was her protruding head and midnight hair on one end, and her bare butt at the other. Eager to attach the false head and rump and be done with this uneasy business I grabbed my tools and quickly bolted the two halves together, trapping her inside her bizarre costume.

It was only early morning but the summer heat was already oppressive making for hot, sticky work. How much hotter to be trapped inside leather padding, I thought. I stepped back, wiping sweat from my brow, unable to believe what I helped create.

Pasiphae had all appearance of a real cow. The two frames bolted together made her appear bulky and rotund, just like a real heifer, with hooves, cowhide and everything else, more fit for the fields than Mino’s fine palace. In fact, if someone had stumbled into my workshop just now, they would be hard pressed to decide if the woman had been fitted to the cow or the cow to the woman. In many ways the cow appeared the more natural of the two.

She panted lustfully, her long hair that spilled over her face raising and falling with each breath. Without even realizing it, I ran a hand over her costume, petting her with a soothing: “there, there girl” as one might to a real cow.

I was ready to be rid of my blasphemous work. Wiping my brow one last time I went to retrieve the false head from my workbench. But before I could reach it I heard a heard a strange noise from behind me, like the crackling of lightening just before it strikes. I turned around to see what had made such a noise but as I did so I felt my joints and limbs tightening until at last I found it impossible to move. I tried to yell out, but even this I found impossible. Just then, like the sound of thunder, a loud voice bellowed throughout my chamber…

“SO THIS IS HOW THE QUEEN OF CRETE CHOOSES TO DRESS HERSELF THESE DAYS!!!”

I saw appear out of nowhere what I knew instantly to be the goddess Aphrodite for she may as well have been one of her stone statues made into flesh. She had blonde hair and long flowing robes that moved with a wind that rustled at her feet only for her. But what I noticed more than anything else was her malevolent eyes and wicked smile.

She had come to take her revenge on Pasiphae.