The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Author’s Notes:

Thanks to everyone for the kind words about the first part of this story! I must admit it helped me find the motivation to get the next part together really quickly. A special thanks to those who gave me constructive critical feedback – hopefully I didn’t ignore too much of it. :)

Cowed

Part 2 — Adjustment:

Something was different. The realization hit her slowly, as though her thoughts were just now arriving from miles away. Thinking creatively was nearly beyond the cow after she had spent months obeying without question. No doubt she would not have started now except something seemed jarring, out of place. She had intimately learned her routine as a cow and had not deviated from it for as long as she could remember.

She peered through the thick plastic lenses over her eyes, trying to ascertain what was bothering her. It hurt to think so much, but continued persistence seemed to clear the fog from her mind momentarily. The room was a featureless box, like all the rooms at the facility, but she slowly recognized it as the exercise room due to its size. She was baffled. Normally exercise occurred after first milking, but before second milking. The last thing she could remember doing was swallowing down another delicious meal. Her breasts distracted her from her memories, taut and ready. They felt full and tight. Why was she here instead of being milked?

She started taking stock, trying to figure out with her muzzy head what was different. She was still in her yummy cow suit and mask, which she had worn since entering the facility. It had long since become her second skin, slick and shiny. The standard rubber training bit sat in her mouth, thick and tasty. Her breasts were erect and full, not yet painful but starting to leak. A latex corset encircling her chest kept them separated and straight, ready for milking. She tried to move her hands to touch them, unable to resist their siren call. She frowned, not quite understanding for a moment why she was unable to move. Why did her feet feel so cold?

She craned her neck to look, then relaxed, feeling out her situation. She was quite neatly trussed up in a training harness. Four hooks in the shape of a square on the ceiling held stretchy straps that were bound to a large reinforced rubber belt that cinched tightly around her waist. Her wrists were locked securely to the belt, preventing any movement. It was incredibly arousing, not helped by the fact that she was fully plugged by a pair of tight latex hot pants.

She was baffled, not understanding why she was restrained in this manner again. Previously the harness had only been used a few times when she was getting used to her new footwear. After a brief introduction she had quickly learned the gait of a cow and no longer needed the extra help the harness provided. Why was she back in the harness again?

She tried to take a step forward and completely lost her balance, pitching forward. She instinctively tried to pull her arms forward to break her fall, letting out a gasp of alarm. The straps prevented her from taking a nose dive into the floor, suspending her gently a few inches above the hard surface. She panicked, thrashing in her bondage until she was exhausted, her legs dropping onto the floor.

From her new angle she gazed at the floor, slowly looking upwards at her feet. Something in the murky depths of her mind finally clicked and she understood: her feet no longer wore the hoof boots! They felt bare and alien to her, unused to not being tightly bound. They looked small and pink, so unlike the delicious black rubber hoof boots that usually coated them.

Now she was even more concerned and confused. Didn’t cows wear boots? Without them, was she still a cow? Something didn’t add up, but her thoughts kept chasing themselves in circles. She hadn’t had a lot of practice thinking lately. She was a cow, wasn’t she? Of course she was! She was obedient and liked to be milked. But cows wore boots, and she wasn’t wearing any. Distracted by her thoughts, she didn’t notice when the head phones clicked on.

“Cows don’t think. Cows obey. You are a cow. Cows don’t worry. You don’t worry. You are a cow.”

Her mind stilled. “Cows obey…yes…I am a cow and I obey…” She slurred through the bit in her mouth. Her jaw dropped open and she drooled as she listened to her new instructions. Trusting the voice completely, she brought her bare feet down to the ground and pushed back up into a vertical position. She stood rigidly and closed her jaw, sucking on the bit as though it was a pacifier. She stared straight ahead, listening to the soothing voice in her head. This was good, this was right. She was a cow.

A screen snapped on, covering the entire far wall. A mesmerizing pattern in the background drew her eyes, but a command from the head phones forced her to focus her attention on the figurine in the center. It was a perfect facsimile of herself, sans the harness. Seeing an image of herself standing there at attention in her costume was very arousing. She ached to touch the large, pert breasts depicted there, but instead had to settle for breathing heavily and shivering.

The headphones again drew her away from her thoughts of pleasure, issuing commands. The image of her on the screen mindlessly started walking, and the cow imitated the movements. It felt strange to be walking on her bare feet without having to balance on her toes all the time. The first few steps were quite clumsy, but it wasn’t long before she was walking smoothly again.

As she obeyed, the dildos in her nether regions starting pulsating, alternating back and forth. The harness moved along with her, following a set track in the ceiling. It wasn’t long until she had reached a corner and was forced to make a slow turn, constrained by where the harness was taking her. As she rounded the corner, the image on the wall moved to the wall she was now facing. Blank obedience etched every line on the face of the image, an obedience she knew was reflected in her own face. Every step triggered another buzz from one of the two dildos, raising her arousal another notch.

She marched now, in lockstep with her shiny clone, sucking on her bit. Ten steps, curve, turn, new wall, step, pleasure. She was quickly reaching her limit, not concerned anymore about what she was doing or why. It was all about the pleasure now. Cows obeyed, and she was a cow. She gasped, at the edge, but was unable to climax.

“Good cow, now cow.” said the voice on the headphones. Both vibrators came on at full speed, buzzing at maximum.

The cow came.

* * *

The phone rang, echoing in the empty room. A woman ran in, banging her knee against the coffee table. Cursing vociferously while rubbing the sore spot, she picked up the phone. “Hello? Who is it?”

“It’s me, Lyla. Come on Sam, when are you going to get with the times? Ditch that phone company and get yourself a cell phone!” Her voice sounded tinny through the phone.

Samantha frowned. “You know I don’t like new technology. It breaks on you too fast. I’d rather stick with tried and tested stuff. Call me a Luddite if you like, but I like what works.”

Lyla sighed. “That’s why don’t even own a computer yet, right?” She made a frustrated sound. “Listen, I didn’t mean to bring up this old argument again. I’m sorry. I was really calling to ask about whether you’re planning on attending our little shindig. It’s going to be a girl’s night out. Just you, me, a few other friends, and our favorite movies. I’m even going to be baking some of your favorite cookies! What do you think? Will you be there?”

“I’m not sure,” said Samantha, equivocating. “When did you say it will be?” A glimmer of something caught her eye. Turning her head, she was surprised to see a large black dildo sitting innocently on the counter. Had she ever owned one of those? It seemed so big!

Lyla chattered on, unaware of the distraction. “I’m thinking Friday night, but I’m not quite sure what time we should start. Would six o’ clock do?” She paused. “Samantha, are you even listening to me?”

Samantha shuddered, trying to reconcile what she knew with what she saw. She must have bought it, otherwise it wouldn’t be there. It’s not like there was some kind of reverse-robbery ring going around planting dildos in people’s houses. She shook that ridiculous thought off and pulled herself together. “Sorry, Lyla, I’m distracted here. Forgot to put something away.” She grabbed the offending item and stuffed it in a drawer, safe from prying eyes. “What time did you say again?” She was glad Lyla couldn’t see her blush over the phone.

“6 PM!” said Lyla, exasperated. “Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep? You’re acting wonky.”

“Yes, I’m fine!” replied Samantha rather testily. “Six sounds good.” The doorbell rang. “I gotta go, there’s someone at the door. Bye!” She hung up the phone rather perfunctorily, then hurried to the door. She wasn’t expecting anything to arrive today. What could it be?

She opened the door just in time to see an unmarked white van make a right turn at the end of the street. Looking down, she spotted a large brown box with address information on it. She briefly wondered why the delivery van had no logo, but her curiosity over what was in the package got the better of her. Picking it up, she closed the door behind her and brought it over to the kitchen table. Barely containing her excitement, she hunted around for the scissors. Where had she put them? She slid several drawers around before giving up, taking a key from her pocket instead. Slashing both ends open, she split the tape neatly down the center.

As she flipped open the flaps, light glinted off of something metallic inside. She reached inside, closing her hands around a cold surface and pulled it out for further examination. Was it a choker? No, it was a collar! It was thick and heavy, at least two inches high and half an inch thick. Her fingers brushed some kind of indentations on the side. She brought it up to eye level, then dropped it to the table in shock. It had her name on it! Now why did that make her slightly aroused?

She wanted to put it back in the box and throw it away, but now her curiosity was overwhelming. She felt almost as though something was compelling her to continue. She reached back into the box, her hands feeling themselves around something slippery. She finally located an edge and started to pull the other items out of the box. After seeing the collar, she was strangely unsurprised to see that the remaining contents were a complete latex outfit, cherry red with a mask to match.

She stood back and stared at the revealing clothing, several emotions fighting internally for dominance. Disgust warred with arousal, revulsion with passion. She would never have ordered these clothes by herself, but now that they were here in front of her she was seized by a sudden urge to see and feel what it might be like to be hugged tightly by the shiny latex. She rationalized it by promising herself that she wouldn’t put the collar on, but she took it with her when she retired to her bedroom with the rest of the outfit.

She set the clothing on her bed, then turned to the sliding glass mirror on her closet door while she disrobed. She had never considered herself to be all that pretty. About the best she could come up with to describe herself was mousy and average. This only seemed to be barely offset by the flaming red hair she considered to be her best characteristic. “Thanks grandma,” she muttered as she took off her shirt and pants. She certainly hadn’t inherited her hair from her parents. They looked even more bland than she did.

She slipped out of her panties, then undid her bra. Her small breasts hardly complimented her willowy form. She hated feeling so insignificant. Dismissing these depressing thoughts, she turned to the new clothing. A sense of apprehension and excitement thrilled through her as she picked up the shiny gloves. This was so naughty, but it felt so good!

It took her a few tries to figure out how to get the gloves on. They had a tendency to bind up, not allowing her to quickly don them. She finally resorted to bunching them up and slowly unrolling them up her arms. She felt a tingle as they finally fell into place, then turned back quickly to deal with the pretty stockings. These went on faster now that she had gained experience with the gloves. She grabbed the panties, intending to deal with them next, but stopped in surprise. These weren’t the thin, daring negligees she was expecting! Two glistening black dildos hid in the deceptively thin material, affixed to them as though they were cast in one piece. She wouldn’t be able to put them on without accepting those dildos into her most private areas.

She was stunned for a minute, once again indecisive about moving forward. Did she really mean to go through with this? Even a few days ago she never would have gone this far. She didn’t consider herself a prude, but there was a fine line between being naughty and being a rubberized slut.

She gasped, finding that while her mind was in such turmoil her hands had subconsciously proceeded to grasp the dirty panties and put them into a position to enter her. She rubbed the tips of the dildos against her pussy, teasing herself. She was feeling out of control, the conclusion seemed almost forgone. Throwing caution to the wind, she pushed the first dildo quickly into her snatch. Wet and eager from being so aroused, it sank in deeply in seconds. She rode it to the hilt, making small mewling noises. She was tempted to keep working it in and out, but the other dildo beckoned. This was more difficult to get in properly, but she was successful in the end, bearing down hard.

Now that they were both oriented properly, she pulled the waistband upwards, sinking them both deeper into her depths. She sucked on her lip, moaning delicately. She rocked her body, enjoying the feel of them riding inside her.

After that performance, getting the rest of the outfit on seemed almost anti-climactic. She moved extremely carefully while doing so, however, as every step jostled the two large protrusions sitting inside her. She stepped into the latex cat suit, layering it over her stockings, gloves, and dildo hot pants. She zipped it up the front, leaving her breasts hanging free and heavy in the suit, her nipples sliding erotically against the slick latex. She couldn’t resist cupping them briefly before grabbing the mask.

It was a skin tight affair, with openings only for eyes and mouth. To get it on properly, she had to squeeze her hair underneath before zipping up the back. Once she was finished, she turned back to the mirror to admire herself. Her plain exterior had been replaced with a shiny, bright red outer layer. She was willing to bet any red blooded male would look at her more than once with this outfit on!

She was still somehow dissatisfied, though. Something was missing. She glanced back at the collar and knew what she needed to do to complete her outfit. The dildo in her pussy jingled with encouragement as she reached for the collar, only with a little hesitation. She had crossed so many taboo barriers now. What was one more to her now?

The weight felt solid, final in her hands. She knew she wanted to do this. It would feel so good. She just wasn’t sure what the consequences would be. She unhinged the collar and swung it around her neck. As she settled it into place, there came a click of finality. It was done, her costume was complete. She smiled in triumph, turning the collar around so her name was centered on the front of her neck. She was collared, and it felt right.

She closed her eyes, savoring the sensations. Suddenly, she felt dizzy, almost as though she was having a touch of vertigo. She fell forward, reaching her hands out in an attempt to prevent a disastrous fall. She fell into a heap on the floor, the flowered dress folding neatly around her. Dress? She looked up quickly, flustered and confused. Instead of a latex cat suit and collar, she saw her plain face, a pale white oval sitting above a sensible red dress.

What was going on? Was she going mad? Had she imagined that box and the dildo earlier too? She rushed to the kitchen to verify her assumptions. Instead of a box, on the kitchen table a pair of scissors lay taunting her, the pair she was unable to find earlier. Scared now, she hurried back over to the chest of drawers she had dropped the dildo into earlier. She pulled the drawer open too quickly and it popped out, falling to the ground. Inside was a long, black aluminum flashlight.

She sank into a chair, feeling faint. She put a hand to her forehead. She wasn’t sick, was she? No, she didn’t feel as if she was running a fever. If that wasn’t the case, she must be going out of her mind. Did she imagine the last hour? Why did she still feel so aroused?

She sat still for a while, trying to calm herself down. It finally occurred to her to ask why she was wearing a dress. It wasn’t a special occasion, was it? None of her friends were getting married. Something seemed to tickle at the edge of her mind. She didn’t have an appointment today, did she? The tickling turned into a faint feeling of alarm that ran through her body. She knew she was forgetting something.

Getting up slowly, she started to pace, trying to remember what she was missing. She was suspect of her memory, especially since she seemed to have completely imagined putting on that latex suit. Maybe she wrote it down on her calendar?

Back in the kitchen, she flipped through the calendar. She had forgotten to change the month, but it had been only a few days since March had begun. It was the 5th, wasn’t it? She moved her finger over to the correct day, then jumped, her pulse pounding. She was late to an interview! That’s what she was forgetting!

Rushing to the door, she bonked her knee on the side of a door jamb. Cursing again, she grabbed her coat and limped out the door. Locking it behind her, she hurried down the sidewalk to the street where a beat up old VW beetle sat waiting. Her anxiety rose. She really needed this new job, or she’d have to go back on a starvation diet to pay the rent.

The car started up faithfully, but not without protest. Bluish exhaust billowed out behind her as she put the car into gear and floored it. She chewed her lip and checked the time, cursing the slow traffic and implacable signals. There was no way to avoid it, she was going to be a few minutes late even if she sped.

* * *

Several minutes later Samantha arrived at the address she had written on the calendar. It was a sterile white building situated in a nice part of town. She wasted a few minutes looking for parking until noticing a small nondescript sign indicating a roll up door on the side of the building. She pulled her car up to the door, then spoke into the intercom that rose out of the ground at window height. “It’s Samantha Brown, here to see Dr. Andrews. I’m here for an interview?” She sounded uncertain to her own ears.

The intercom crackled, then a monotone female voice came on. “You’re late. Enter.” The rollup door squealed as it inched upwards excruciatingly slowly. Impatient, Samantha gritted her teeth. She didn’t like the sound of that voice, it definitely wasn’t friendly.

The internal parking lot seemed strangely empty, but Samantha didn’t pay any attention. She was too preoccupied with how she might do on the interview, and was pleased at how easy it was to find a spot. The beetle sputtered to a stop and she opened the door, looking around. A large painted sign directed her to the elevators and informed her she was parked in section MC 5. Other than the sign, everything was strangely white, blindingly so. Even the asphalt had been painted white, with the standard yellow lines delineating parking.

At the time, it didn’t seem remarkable to her. She was determined not to be later than she had to be. Distractedly leaving her car unlocked, she mentally recorded her section in the garage, then headed towards the elevators.

It wasn’t long before she was in an elevator, looking for the right button to press. Next to the floor ‘B3’ there was a placard with the name ‘Andrews.’ She pressed the button and the elevator smoothly rolled into a downwards motion without a jolt. Strange, she thought to herself. Why is the elevator completely white? The walls were padded with white cushions and the typical steel box of the elevator was hidden behind a façade of white plastic. Only the text next to the buttons was black for contrast. It felt like she had entered an asylum of some kind.

The ride was taking longer than she expected, and her mind started to wander. I wonder what they do here? I didn’t see a sign on my way in. How did I get an interview with these people anyhow? Every time she tried to remember she came up against a white wall in her mind. It was quite frustrating, as it felt as though her thoughts could find no purchase. They just slid smoothly around the blockage.

Distracted, she didn’t notice for a few moments the hissing sound issuing from the top of the elevator. She looked up quickly, alarmed. It must be gas! She pounded on the doors, yelling for help. Her hands felt heavy and her brain was foggy. Maybe it was a bad idea to come here, she thought sleepily as she drifted away.

* * *

“She’s coming to, Doctor Andrews,” said a diffident female voice.

“Ah, finally,” said another voice, which Samantha assumed was Doctor Andrews.

The world seemed to be sliding and tilting. It was making her nauseated, but it soon started to subside. She tried to move her head, ready to look for an escape. It remained stubbornly still, fixed straight ahead. Her body felt tight and rigid, hugged tightly by something.

The feeling of fullness in her ass and pussy made her brain jump to fantastic conclusions. Maybe she wasn’t imagining earlier. Maybe she did put on the latex suit and the dress was merely a dream instead. Her pulse rose, but she was unable to make any voluntary movement except for blinking her eyes.

A severe looking female head moved down into her field of view. “Welcome, Ms. Brown. You’ll be one of our first subjects. I can’t guarantee you’ll keep your mind, but there is one thing I can assure you of – it will be very pleasurable!” She leaned forward suddenly and grabbed one of Samantha’s breasts, sending a frisson of pleasure between her legs.

“I can see you like that,” she continued. “There will be more of that later. Unfortunately, we are on a bit of a schedule, so we’ll have to move forward with the procedure immediately.” She turned away. “Are we ready with the brain buster?” Someone out of Samantha’s field of view made an affirmative sound. “Good,” said the doctor, turning back. “I’m sorry to have to use such primitive measures on you, but your mind is stronger than most. Ninety-five percent of the subjects we’ve seen so far require minimal initiation techniques before they become susceptible to the pleasures of being a cow. After that, all they need is a small push, someone to show them the ropes, so to speak. Somehow, though, you’re different. I suppose it gives us an opportunity to test our more extreme conditioning,” she mused. “I still don’t agree that it’s quite ready for prime time, but we’re out of options. What can you do?” She shrugged expressively. “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit. Or at least you won’t remember if it does. And when we’re done, you’ll be comfortably blank without any worries.”

Despite the false sounding assurances, Samantha was terrified, unable to move. The white room visible behind the doctor suddenly became eclipsed by a screen, suspended from some kind of device affixed to her head. She was unable to fully see the intricate nature of the harness that looped around her head, but soon was unable to care. The screen came on, showing mesmerizing colors. In spite of her fear, Samantha felt herself getting aroused. It had always been one of her fantasies to be imprisoned in skintight latex. The dildos certainly didn’t help matters, either. She felt herself being drawn deeper and deeper into the pattern.

“She’s ready, doctor,” said the disembodied voice.

“Alright, hit it,” said the doctor.

The screen went pure white, and her body felt as though a million ants were crawling all over her. She thought nothing, her mind now completely blank. Her jaw dropped open, drool sliding down her chin.

The doctor sniffed. “They’re so unattractive when they’re like this.” She produced a bright pink ball gag and strapped it tightly into Samantha’s mouth. “There, at least you look prettier now.”

Samantha didn’t respond. She no longer had the capacity, even if she wasn’t paralyzed. Her mind was a blank slate.

“They take so long to train when you wipe them completely. Oh well. Slave, please take this new cow for processing. Her breasts are small, but I’m sure with a little therapy we’ll soon get her producing with the rest.”

“This slave hears and obeys. She will be a cow as you command.” The slave moved to retrieve the new cow.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said the doctor. She leaned forward and unlocked the cow’s collar. “You won’t be needing that for now. You’ll get your collar back later cow, never fear. For now, though, you need to learn posture.” She retrieved a thick, high rubber collar from the counter. She snapped it on the cow with ease, then stood back admiring her work. “I always enjoy seeing them when they come in fully clothed in their new outfits, ready to be mindfucked. I may need to go relieve myself. Go ahead, slave, she’s ready for you now.”

The slave stepped forward, careful in her high heels. Two large rubber squeeze bulbs extended from below her rubber panties. The rubber dress she wore covered her front adequately, but the back consisted of a series of straps from her neck down to below her ass, constraining her legs from coming too far apart. A tight corset pushed her assets up high for all to see. A rubber scrunchie held her brunette hair in a ponytail down her back. Her face was pale white, made up heavily, hiding any personality beneath.

As the slave walked past, the doctor leaned forward and squeezed the bulb leading into the slave’s vagina. She stopped and shivered, moaning at the feeling of fullness. “This slave thanks you mistress, but this slave is unable to perform her duty while orgasming.”

“Sorry,” smirked the doctor. “I couldn’t resist. Continue.”

The slave minced her way over to the blanked cow. “Come, cow. It’s time for you to learn. It’s time to be a cow. Nothing else matters for you.”

The paralysis had worn off, leaving a blank slate to be written upon. “Yes, it’s time…to be a cow.” She murmured softly.

The doctor turned to her assistant and said, “I’ve changed my mind. Bring in the other two cows for pre-processing. Might as well do them all at the same time.”

The scene froze as if it were a snapshot in the mind. Cracks started to appear in the center, spider webbing out to the edge with alarming speed. When it started to give, it went out quickly, shattering into a million pieces.

End part two