The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cowed

Part 3 — Recruitment:

She remembered everything. Memories unspooled in her head, flashing in front of her eyes like a movie. Except this wasn’t a movie, this was her life. The memories were so immediate and insistent that she felt as if she was being attacked by them. Scenes and situations moved too fast to actively process, a blur of sound and color sliding by. Her childhood blitzed by, gone in a blink. High school and college also zoomed by, but now things started slowing down. Her first few jobs out of college, boring affairs, tracked by more slowly than she would’ve liked. She saw herself flipping burgers, filing papers, typing up documentation. All tedious, unfulfilling positions. She saw herself angry, fighting with her boss, out on the street, alone. The ad in the paper, the phone call, the interview, the abduction, all had led her here. Where was here? Who was she? The struggling, down on her luck straight young lady who had lesbian friends, or the calm, obedient cow adorned in slippery latex? She felt fractured, as if her mind was split in two.

With a rush, the memories departed, dumping her back into reality. Pumps sucked on her swollen breasts, and dildos vibrated in her nether regions. She gasped, unable to deal with the raw sensation. Samantha was in control, the cow dormant momentarily. Her mind was now clear, and she was fixed on one goal: escape. She struggled frantically, trying to escape the bondage, with little success. The pumps were locked tightly to her chest, sucking and licking her tits so delicately. Her arms were still chained to the belt she had worn earlier in training. Anchor points in the ground were chained to cuffs around her ankles, making it impossible to move. The headphones were hissing instructions that the newly alert Samantha had no trouble ignoring. She gurgled in frustration, barely making any noise past the large purple ball gag filling her mouth. She was stymied, but was no longer sedate or blindly obedient. She was also out of options, forced to sit there and take it as the milking moved into high gear. Spiral tubing filled with her milk ascended to the ceiling, then on to a large tank on the other side of the room. The sucking sounds from the pumping breast cups were clearly audible, even through her rubber covered ears.

As her arousal increased, she felt herself starting to slip again, her newfound control no match for the incredible pleasure of the situation. It was so easy to let her cow side deal with the situation. She shrieked internally as her personality sank back, down to the depths of her mind. As she sank deeper, the cow mind emerged. She suddenly became absurdly happy about her situation. She was a cow, being milked. She was fulfilling her role in life, contributing milk for the good of all. She shook in orgasm. The cow was in control and she was obedient.

She stood rigidly to attention as a thought overriding signal came through on the headphones. “You are a good, obedient cow,” said the headphones seductively. “Unfortunately, not all females are yet cows.”

The cow was sad. Why weren’t they cows yet? Moisture leaked between her legs. Didn’t they know how good it felt to obey? The headphones interrupted her thoughts. “You are no longer just a simple cow. You are a recruitment cow, designation SB-RC. You will be trained how to recruit. You have received training on how to walk without boots. Before further training, you must be altered. Recruitment cows only have two breasts. You will have two breasts. You are recruitment cow.”

SB-RC stood still, soaking in the new irrefutable truths like a sponge. She was a recruitment cow. She would obey. Four of the breast cups covering her chest were extracted, making popping noises as the air pressure equalized. She shivered at the sensation, but stood utterly still. Good cows stood still and obeyed, and she was a good cow. The two top pumps continued sucking, extracting the thick white milk.

Staring slightly ahead, repeating her obedience mantra, she hardly noticed as four large needles mounted on a steel platform moved into place automatically in front of her chest. She barely flinched as each needle slowly inserted itself into each of her four lower breasts. They triggered automatically, pumping a sickly purple liquid into each breast, then retracted. SB-RC sucked on the scrumptious rubber ball in her mouth, oblivious to her surroundings.

A guard entered the room, striding confidently in her chunky heeled boots. Bending over, the cuffs were removed efficiently from SB-RC’s ankles. At a prompting from the headphones, SB-RC turned in a stilted fashion to face the guard. The guard straightened up, exposing her ripped abs and voluptuous chest pushed up severely within a tight corset. The guard reached over and detached the ball gag from the cow’s face, setting it delicately on a table off to the side. She then made a turn with military precision to face the door. The gas mask she wore had a thick rubber tube that led to two large tanks on her back. The canisters were labeled down the sides in block lettering, unreadable to the distracted cow. Air hissed in and out of the guard’s lungs, controlled forcefully by the mechanism riding on her back.

The guard led the way out, her tight ass flexing enticingly behind tightly stretched transparent latex. SB-RC followed closely behind, obeying her directions utterly. The guard led her through several nondescript white corridors, her latex outfit squeaking with each step. When they reached an alcove, the guard stopped and turned. “Sit,” she commanded tersely.

Situated in the alcove was an egg shaped chair mounted to the ground such that it could be turned to face the internal side of the alcove. A large black dildo extended from the middle of the chair where a formfitting seat indentation existed.

“This cow cannot comply,” said SB-RC. “This cow is already fitted with a remote pleasure device. This cow also does not have the use of her hands.”

The guard turned her masked face to look at the cow, then stepped in close. Her gloved hands gripped both sides of the cow’s dildo hot pants and started pulling them down slowly. The cow shuddered, feeling every bump and ridge in the dildos as they were slowly extracted. She had her mouth clamped tightly shut to avoid moaning too loud. She bemoaned the lack of a ball gag to suck on. The dildos finally were extracted from her nether regions, and the panties removed. “Sit,” the guard commanded again.

This time the cow obeyed, enjoying the sensations as she traded one dildo for another, this one larger and thicker than the last. She licked her rubber lips, satisfied with the exchange. She watched the guard turn and walk off with the hot pants in its hands, sounding like an evil villain as she breathed from the tanks of unknown gas. She was unable to watch the guard round the corner, as the chair she sat in automatically turned to face the wall inside the alcove. A screen in the wall lit up.

“Hello cow, this is training station CRX – 501. Today you will be learning how to seduce and betray other females into being cows. You will also learn to obey various triggers for use when you are out in the field recruiting. Please pay close attention to these lessons, and soon you will be helping us add new cows to our heard.”

The sound echoed oddly from speakers built into the chair, so different from the speakers she was used to listening to in her headphones. Obediently, she closely watched the screen and answered any questions posed by the trainer. With each right answer, the dildo in her snatch vibrated and slid back and forth, raising her arousal by another notch.

Various scenes played out on the screen. Potential female victims were shown interacting with the cow, and she was questioned on how she should behave if a new recruit got suspicious. These scenes extended on interminably, exhaustively teaching the cow how to portray herself to the outside world. Then, the screen changed to a mesmerizing background, sucking her into a deeper sleep. When the training machine decided the cow was deep enough, it started implanting hypnotic triggers by which the cow would be controlled while it was away from the facility. When it was satisfied with the conditioning, the machine brought her back out of the deep state.

“You are now conditioned to recruit. You are a recruitment cow. You will bring back other females, and they will become cows. You will grow the herd by finding new sisters to join you in slavery. You have been a good cow.” The machine rewarded the cow by turning the dildo’s vibration to the highest setting until she orgasmed several times. The cow mooed with satisfaction.

“Override 0x0000000A. Report now to the dressing chamber. You will change into your recruitment outfit and will be given your first assignment.” The chair turned back around, exposing SB-RC to the sterile white hallway.

She stood up, the floppy dildo sliding out of her well lubricated snatch. Instructions from the override unspooled in her head, and she followed them through a maze of corridors. She finally stopped in front of a wall, which slid upwards in front of her. She stepped inside, seeing on the wall an outfit hung up for her. The door closed behind her, and a screen on the wall came to life.

“You will step over here to receive your mission,” said the wall in a deep, sultry voice. The cow obediently moved in front of the screen. An image of a female was displayed on the screen. The cow stared at the image without recognition. Samantha stirred uneasily, but did not emerge from the depths of her mind. The cow was in control. “This is target Lyla. She will make a good addition to the herd. You are to retrieve her and make her a cow. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lyla will be made into a cow like me. We will be sisters and she will serve the herd forever, docile and obedient. She will enjoy being milked.” The cow became wet again just thinking about it.

“Good cow,” said the wall. “You will now strip, dress and start your mission. All will obey the herd. All will be cows.”

The locks holding her hands to her belt released remotely, dropping to the floor. She immediately started stripping. She reached up to her head, finding it difficult to locate the zipper with her latex coated fingers. Finally she brushed a finger over it and after some fumbling pulled it gently up the back of her head. The mask peeled off of her head slowly, clinging to her sweaty face. She was forced to lift the mask vertical to allow her hair to flow through the hole built into the top of the mask. She dropped the mask to the ground, her flowing red hair drifting out behind her.

Next was the suit itself, the zipper no easier to find than it had been for the mask. It too eventually was found, and the sticky latex creaked as it was peeled off. She pulled each foot through the leggings, letting them fall to the ground as well. Last were the gloves, which unrolled quickly as the cow did as she was bid.

The cow felt sad seeing the latex clothing she had worn since entering the facility on the ground in an untidy heap. It had been her prison and her home for a long time, clasping her cow body in its second skin. Unable to disobey her programming, the cow stepped up to the wall, preparing to put on the new clothing that had been laid out for her.

She gasped in delight as she viewed what she would soon be wearing. The whole ensemble was very gothic in nature, black and foreboding. However, the fact that many of the pieces of the outfit were made out of latex was what appealed to the cow. She quickly began pulling pieces of the clothing off the wall, eager to feel them against her skin.

First came the undergarments for support. In the time since the needles had injected something into her lower breasts, they had shrunk to very small bumps on her chest, eclipsed by their two large sisters above. Around these firm protrusions she wrapped a stretchy bra made out of latex. Thick straps fit over her shoulders, pulling her breasts up and out to attention. Next came skimpy panties, little more than a glorified thong. The latex strap rode up her crack, providing some stimulation. She shivered, but didn’t stop dressing.

On top of the bra and panties came a one-piece dress, also made out of gleaming latex. It had large shoulder straps over the top, hiding the bra straps. Completely covering her chest and shrunken breasts, it flowed out into a skirt, flaring out in frills all the way around her body. The back split up into a ‘V’ shape which was bridged with several strips of glossy material.

Bending down, she unrolled long striped stockings over her feet and up her legs. The black-and-white alternating stripes extended up all the way to her hips. Thigh high latex boots with chunky heels soon followed, sealing her legs in an ultra-long shiny caress. As a last touch, she unrolled latex opera gloves up her arms to her armpits. She straightened up and smiled dopily. She felt absolutely stunning.

“Good cow,” praised the voice. “You are ready for recruitment. Contact this number when you have recruited a new cow and are ready for extraction.” A series of digits was read out and filed away unerringly in her mind.

“Cow, override 0xFF. Begin recruitment.”

A previously invisible opening in the wall slid up in front of her, and she stepped through, obeying the commands planted deep inside her. The door softly slid shut behind her, sealing itself back into invisibility.

She looked around, analyzing her situation. It was midday, the sun softly filtering through the leaves of the trees. Traffic slid slowly by, and birds chirped in the air. It was almost idyllic, but the cow had no time to enjoy the nice atmosphere. She was on a mission.

She strutted confidently in her revealing clothing, heading for the parking lot she somehow unconsciously knew was in the rear of the building. Sharp clacking sounds echoed from her boots as she strode down the sidewalk. The skirt swayed back and forth enticingly as she walked. Her remaining two breasts stood out loud and proud in the center of her chest, the tips of her nipples dimpling the latex on the bra she wore. She was the picture of a perfect gothic slut.

She preened as the cars driving down the street slowed to watch her. She wasn’t sure why, but she was highly enjoying being the center of attention. She smiled when someone leaned their head out the window of a passing car to whistle, then smirked when the same car barely avoided wrapping itself around a telephone pole.

It was over too soon for her taste, though, as she quickly arrived at the parking lot that was her destination. Reaching into a hidden pocket built into the side of the dress, the cow retrieved a key fob. With it, she unlocked a dark purple BMW and scooted inside. The cow didn’t give a moment’s thought as to why she was driving a luxury vehicle, she simply took it in stride as part of her programming.

The drive back to her apartment was uneventful, but the cow was unable to stop strange thoughts from drifting lazily through her mind. A general disgust for slavery that was baffling to the cow just wouldn’t go away. She kept telling herself that she was a slave and liked being a cow, but neither thought rang completely true. These dissident thoughts distressed the cow, who only understood obedience, and pleasure as the reward of submission. This strange inner monologue continued until the cow reached her former personality’s apartment. She picked up a purse sitting in the passenger seat, then walked up to the door. The cow ignored the paper posted on the door and entered, shutting it behind her.

Like a light switch turning on, the familiar surroundings seemed to trigger something in her. The cow felt as though she was slipping off a cliff, losing her grip on reality. She hissed angrily, trying to hang on. Obedience was everything! Nothing else mattered!

An opposing viewpoint starting gaining ground. Freedom is power! Slavery is a perversion! Nobody should subject themselves to another, not even for unbelievable pleasure! Something lurched, turning over and flipping one hundred eighty degrees. It felt like being squeezed through a pipe. Suddenly, reality snapped back into focus. She dropped the purse on the floor, spilling the contents everywhere.

The first thing Samantha thought was, what the hell am I doing here? The last thing I remembered was being back at the facility. How did I get back to my apartment? Memories slowly leaked out from the new depths, the part of her that was an enslaved cow. She realized now how badly she had been broken. Half of her was a sane, average individual, but the other half was a mind controlled, obedient cow. She was unable to reconcile the two. A tight ball of fear took up residence in her gut. How was she going to fix this? Would she eventually go insane, letting her cow brain take over? She momentarily had images of standing stiffly straight, being milked forever. She shook her head violently, trying to avoid getting aroused. That was the cow talking. If she could just remain rational, maybe she would be able to find a way out of this mess.

She immediately thought of the police. Maybe she can set the authorities on these cow slavers? She lurched towards the phone, unsteady in the boots the cow had walked in smoothly moments before. She cursed the cow for her acceptance of the clothing, but was unable to ignore a spike of pleasure that the cow shot back at her.

She picked up the receiver, ready to dial 911. She saw the numbers clearly in her head, but when she moved her hand to dial them, out came different numbers instead. It took her several tries before she realized which number she was dialing – it was Lyla’s! Her shock was mellowed by a sense of encouragement and rightness that filled her head. Samantha shook, worried about the power her alternate personality seemed to have over her.

After several more tries, she gave up and let her hands finish dialing the number. It rang three times before it was picked up. “Hello? Hello? Samantha, is that you? Where have you been, you’ve been missing for weeks!” Her distress was clearly audible through the old phone line.

Samantha considered briefly, then replied. Lyla would never believe the truth. She didn’t even really believe it herself. “They give me a job offer on the spot, and they’ve been working me hard ever since!” There, that wasn’t quite a lie. “I’m sorry I missed your party, I really wanted to go. I was just so busy!”

Lyla sounded suspicious now. “Why haven’t you been answering my calls? I left several dozen on your answering machine.”

Now was the time to try and tell her the truth. Except something seemed to be holding her back. Her other personality was somehow blocking her from warning her best friend about the cult of cows. She tried harder, but was unable to make a noise. She gave up and said, “I haven’t been checking that, honestly. I’ve been so exhausted lately that all I’ve done is put my head on the pillow as soon as I get home.”

Lyla didn’t sound totally convinced, but let it go. “Alright. I’m just glad you’re okay Sam, and not wiped out by some serial killer or bleeding to death in an alley somewhere.”

“No, I’m all right,” said Samantha. Unbidden, her mouth opened again, saying “Hey Lyla, I have some free time now. Do you want to come over?” She clapped a hand over her mouth, startled that she had involuntarily talked.

Lyla replied, “Sure, I’ll be right over. See you soon!” She hung up, the click audible on her end.

Now why had she done that? She wasn’t aware of consciously wanting to invite Lyla over. A self-satisfied feeling drifted over her, a feeling she realized must have come from the cow. She was frightened at the implication. At any time, without her permission, the cow could take over her body and use it how it wished, even when she was fully conscious. It was a maddening sensation, knowing that the cow was effectively in control no matter what she did.

She felt like she was going mad. Was she already mad? She was no longer sure. A strange impulse to look good floated through her mind. She knew the source, but was unable to dismiss the suggestion, a prisoner in her own mind. She straightened up and walked confidently back to the door. It seemed the more she fought the cow, the less control she had over her body. She felt momentarily exhausted from fighting the cow and relaxed, letting it do what it wanted for now.

The cow reached for the mess on the floor, gathering various objects that had scattered all over back into the purse. She picked up the purse and brought it back to the cadenza in the hallway leading to the front door. She stared at her image in the mirror, horrified by the first look she had seen of herself since she had regained her right mind. She was a gothic fetish nightmare! She shone brightly in the afternoon light, the highly polished surface acting like a mirror. Green eyes peered from a strangely out of place mousy head, mounted over a body that was clad in an outfit only fit for a wet dream.

She was repulsed and attracted the same time, unable to sort out where each feeling was coming from. She made an effort to try to touch her strangely erotic clothing, but her hand instead went inside the purse and pulled out a tube of black lip gloss. She shook her head no, frightened of completing the outfit fully, but was unable to control her hand or arm. As the hand approach with the tube, even her ability to move her head was removed, her neck freezing itself stiff. The makeup was efficiently and quickly applied, turning once bright pink lips into a dark, sultry black. The cow smacked her lips for good measure, then dug back through the bag.

Samantha, a prisoner in her own mind, watched as the cow pulled out a dark purple eye shadow and applied it expertly to each eye. Other makeup was then also applied, but Samantha paid attention to none of it. She was too busy agonizing over what she would do when Lyla arrived. She only snapped out of it when the cow put all of the makeup back in the purse and snapped it shut. She felt the cow pull back into her mind for the moment, and she looked up, back into the mirror. She was stunned by what she saw. Her face, before looking out of place, now felt as if it belonged to the outfit.

Forgetting about her split personality for the moment, she stared at her image more closely, drinking it all in. The dark purple clouds around her eyes and black lips were vividly offset by her bright green eyes and fiery red hair. The makeup had smoothed out her face, removing unfavorable contours. She looked more like a cat than a mouse now. Feeling playful, she curled one hand into the shape of a claw and made a growling sound. She was starting to like this outfit better now! Or maybe that was the cow talking?

The doorbell rang, startling her out of her thoughts. She thought of staying there, hoping if she remained still whoever was at the door would go away. She seemed to be successful for a few moments, then the cow took over again, leading her inexorably towards the door. Samantha blushed furiously, not wanting to be seen by her best friend in the outfit she was wearing, but unable to prevent the cow from using her hand to turn the handle and opened the door.

Lyla stood outside, clutching a bottle of wine in her hands. “Hi!” She said vivaciously. I thought you might like to try this new vintage I found and Good Lord! What are you wearing?” She ended on a high note, her voice pitched incredulously.

Samantha pulled Lyla into the apartment and shut the door quickly, embarrassed enough by her unconventional attire. She was inexplicably nervous, wanting Lyla to like what she was wearing. It was becoming noticeably more difficult to separate her feelings and actions from that of the cow’s. It was hard to see why she should bother when her desires and the cow’s lined up so neatly.

“Do you like it?” Samantha asked shyly. She tilted her body to give Lyla a better view of her profile. The latex ruffled bottom of the dress swished lightly in the air.

Lyla whistled. “You’ve really gone crazy awesome this time Sam. I didn’t know you were into gothic gear.” She eyed Samantha speculatively. “I never would’ve thought of you in this kind of outfit, but it looks good on you. It practically eliminates those problems you usually have when you wear a dress. Man, it makes me wish I had some of that to put on this body.” She emphasized her small breasts with her hands. “Not much to work with here, I’m afraid.”

Samantha paused, unsure what to say or do. How does one go about seducing her best friend? Vague memories and instructions on how to seduce drifted up from somewhere in her mind, but she ignored them. The silence stretched on awkwardly, and she found herself searching for something to say that wouldn’t sound idiotic. “Do you really think it looks good?” She asked, sounding timid to her own ears. “I thought you might like it.” That wasn’t technically true as the clothing been chosen out for her, but now she found herself wishing that it was true. Maybe she hadn’t been aroused by women before entering the facility, but she had been somehow changed by the experience. The encouragement coming from her cow half only boosted her eagerness to be accepted.

“Are you kidding?” asked Lyla. “I love it! You know I would, silly!”

She did know it. For as long as Samantha had known Lyla, she had been into the gothic lesbian scene. Today she had shown up in cute number, a black leather corset cinched tightly over a similarly colored petite miniskirt. She wore small shoes, also black, and topped off the look with makeup somewhat similar to Samantha’s except with green eye shadow. A nose stud twinkled prettily in the afternoon light.

“What is that stuff, latex? You look kinky, girl!” Lyla unabashedly ran her fingertips over the side of one of Samantha’s breasts, marveling at the slick and shiny exterior. Samantha’s breasts immediately perked up, ready for action. Her breathing deepened, and she blushed again, embarrassed. She felt compelled to say something, but was speechless. “Do you wanna, um…? I don’t know how to say this…” she trailed off.

“Do I want to fool around with you? I didn’t know you swung that way.” Emboldened by the atmosphere, Lyla moved closer and placed her hands on Samantha’s breasts. “If you want me to stop, please say so now before I embarrass us both, but it looks like your breasts are saying yes.” Lyla squeezed, hard.

Samantha let out a big whoosh of breath, her cheeks turning pink again. The vague feeling of wrongness vanished, morphing into pure arousal. How could this be bad when it felt so good? She leaned forward and carefully kissed Lyla on the right cheek. “I’m ready,” said Samantha. “Don’t stop, keep going.”

Lyla kept massaging Samantha’s breasts for a moment, then lifted both hands to Samantha’s head. She brought their heads close together, their lips almost touching. “You have no idea how long I’ve had dreams about this,” she breathed sultrily. “You look so hot to me, but you’re so inaccessible. Before now you wouldn’t have looked twice at me. Yet now here we are. I feel as though this must’ve been fated to be.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” said Samantha, pulling their mouths together. Black lips mashed to black lips and tongues played freely. Lyla’s tongue piercing rattled erotically in Samantha’s mouth, increasing the heat throughout her body. Maybe she should get one too? A burst of approbation signaled the cow’s approval of the thought.

Samantha reached her hands up to Lyla’s breasts, returning the favor by squeezing and massaging as they explored each other. Samantha could smell the light scent of Lyla’s arousal and felt wet herself. She pulled herself in even closer, reaching behind Lyla’s back to pull her into a hug. Their bodies connected, conforming to each other in all the right spots. Lyla pulled back, saliva dangling from the tip of her tongue. She licked her lips, smiling. “I’m feeling a little restricted. Perhaps we could continue somewhere a little more intimate?” She raised her eyebrows in question.

“Of course!” replied Samantha, breathing heavily. “Come with me!” She grabbed Lyla’s hand, led her into the bedroom and closed the door. She began to strip feverishly. “Quick! I can’t stand it anymore!” Her breathing was heavy and sweat drained down her brow.

“Now now,” said Lyla. “Anticipation is half the fun!” She started unlacing her corset in a languorous fashion. After each article of clothing was removed, she struck a pose before dropping it the floor.

Samantha took a more direct approach, removing her garments much more quickly. The dress came off quickly, slipping over her head neatly. She gasped as she removed her bra, her nipples perky in the cold air. She paused momentarily, surprised to see that no sign remained of the extra four breasts that used to sit heavily on her chest. “What’s the matter?” asked Lyla. “Got something you want to get off your chest?” She smirked at her awful joke.

Samantha ignored Lyla’s antics, continuing to disrobe in a frenetic fashion. As a result, she had finished before Lyla had even finished removing her miniskirt. She waited impatiently, stroking her breasts lightly as she watched.

Lyla was unable to resist the erotic sight of her friend masturbating in front of her, and was forced to speed up her efforts. Soon it was done, and they both stood naked in front of each other.

Samantha felt aggressive. “No more foreplay,” she demanded. “Now we fuck.” She lurched toward Lyla, practically throwing herself on top of her. Lyla laughed in a tinkling fashion, and let herself fall backwards onto the bed with Samantha on top of her. Their breasts and sexes meshed together tightly. Samantha slipped a hand down to Lyla’s vagina, pushing a few fingers inside. She leaned forward hungrily, capturing Lyla’s mouth with her tongue.

Unable to say anything, Lyla laid back and let herself enjoy the attention. She sucked deeply on Samantha’s tongue and moved her hands back up to touch Samantha’s breasts. They both squirmed, the friction between them boosting their arousal to a new level.

It was all too much for Lyla, who shrieked her orgasm into Samantha’s mouth. Hot sticky juices rushed out of her snatch, soaking Samantha’s hand. Lyla continued moving, rubbing her breasts again Samantha’s. As soon as she pushed a few fingers up Samantha’s vagina, she too burst out in orgasm. Samantha pulled back, shrieking her pleasure to the world.

They pulled apart and laid back on the bed, both panting from their exertions. “That was great,” gasped Samantha. “I never knew it could be like that.” She smiled and sighed. “I don’t suppose you’re ready for another round?”

Lyla laughed. “Slow down girl. We have all the time we need!” She reached over, stroking Samantha’s hair slowly. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

“Thanks,” said Samantha. “You’re no troll yourself.” She relaxed, enjoying the afterglow. The cow chose that moment to attack, taking over her mind. “Say Lyla,” she said slyly, “I met some new friends at my new job. You want to go hang out with them for a while?”

“I’d rather hang out with you.” Lyla grinned salaciously and winked. “Promise me we’ll get some alone time together later, and I’ll agree to go see these new friends of yours.”

“I guarantee it,” said the cow. “I suppose we had better rinse off and get dressed again.”

Unlike getting undressed, it took rather longer for them to put themselves back together again. This was further slowed by them looking at each other knowingly and making teasing gestures.

Finally, they were ready to go. “Let me make a phone call first, to let them know we’re coming,” said Samantha. She walked over to the phone and dialed the number burned into her memory. “We’ll meet up with you soon,” the cow said happily. “Lyla has agreed to come with me.”

A soft whirr sounded on the other end of the line, as if the information was being processed. “Good cow. Bring Lyla outside. We will recruit her soon.” The phone clicked.

The cow looked back at Lyla. “We’re good to go! Let’s go meet up with them!” The cow collected her purse and opened the door, letting Lyla exit before she did. The cow was tightly in control, following her orders unbendingly. Lyla was a new recruit. She would make a good cow.

The cow closed the front door and locked it, turning to face the sidewalk. The midafternoon sun shone on a bright and clear day. Leaves skimmed through the cold air. At the end of the sidewalk where it met the street stood two unfamiliar figures. As they moved closer, surprise registered in the cow’s brain. What were they doing here?

She clutched her head, going down on her knees. Not now, thought the cow, panicked as its personality flipped once again with Samantha’s.

Lyla turned to Samantha with concern. “What’s going on Sam? Are you okay?” She had taken a step forward when Samantha shoved her back, yelling, “get out of here quick before they get you!”

Lyla stumbled, halfheartedly starting to move due to the real fear she heard in Samantha’s voice. Too late, she heard a buzzing sound in the air as she turned her head back to face the newcomers. The next thing she knew she was on the ground, convulsing uncontrollably as electricity coursed through her.

“That was naughty, cow,” said one of the two assailants. “Override 0xFFFFFF. You are a cow. You will obey.” From her vantage point on the ground Lyla watched as Samantha stiffened up and became glassy eyed. “I am a cow. I will obey.”

“Good cow,” said the voice again. “And as for you...” The speaker leaned downwards, her shadow falling over Lyla’s still form. A mask was placed over her face and she heard a hissing noise. “Dr. Andrews will be very pleased. You will make a fine addition to the herd.”

The last thing Lyla saw as she rode away to oblivion on the wings of the sweet smelling gas was a thick collar with block letters spelling out ‘Sophie.’

End part three