The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Samantha-cow mooed happily as the doctor thrust her dildo inside her deeply, relaxing into the sensations that washed over her. The doctor smiled in satisfaction, breathing heavily. A glimmer of intelligence flickered in the cow’s eyes before they again became completely blank, her jaw dropping open in obedience. “How did you like that, cow?” asked the doctor, slipping the wet dildo out carefully. The cow mooed mindlessly through the thick gag in her mouth. “Back to our nice obedient state, are we?” The doctor slipped the other end of the strap-on out of herself, laying it lovingly on the cart. “Nothing quite like the personal touch. I need to do this more often.” She licked her lips. “Maybe I will—that new cow you retrieved for me just isn’t giving in easily either. What is it with you people? I give you fetish outfits, gigantic breasts, endless pleasure and obedience, and you’re not happy!”

She sighed to herself, realizing that her tirade was completely lost on the brainless cow. “Oh well. Time to get back into the routine of things. Slave, take this cow to a feeding chamber. She won’t be ready to properly milk for a few days yet, but her breasts will be properly developed sooner than that. Put her in the milking room for stimulation tomorrow, we want to get her back into a cow’s routine as soon as possible.”

She slapped the cow’s ass, the sharp crack echoing through the small room. “I’ve enjoyed training you, cow. I look forward to seeing you as part of the herd in the years to come. And now that we’ve eliminated that pesky free will, there’s no stopping you from becoming the will less, brainless cow you were meant to be!”

She walked out of the room, her butt swaying prettily in her dominatrix outfit. “Goodbye for now! I have another cow to break. It’s a never-ending job, you know.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively as the door closed behind her.

The slave assistant clopped over on her boots, rubber pumps swaying gently from her nether regions. She quickly, but efficiently unbound the cow from her position, displaying no obvious feelings of arousal. She slipped one of the generic, thick metal collars the facility used to identify cows around her neck and clipped a leather leash to it. “Follow me, cow. It’s feeding time.” She tugged with the leash gently towards the door.

Samantha-cow complied, pretending to be a completely docile cow. She walked along expertly on her cow boots, the cow lessons from long ago now integrated deeply in the core of her mind. She knew exactly how to act because she was a cow. They would learn later the hard way that she was still also Samantha.

As they walked out the door, the slave waved a hand, dismissing the two guard cows that continued to stand utterly still in the white chamber. “Sophie, Andrea, you are no longer needed here. Report back to milking. From there you will be given orders on what to do next.”

The two guard cows turned in lockstep. “Acknowledged. These cows will be milked, then they will be given a new task.” They spoke simultaneously, their voices in harmony with each other.

“Excellent,” said the slave. “We’re done here.”

She continued down the hallway, leading Samantha-cow back through the maze that was now her home. The headphones on her head were a comforting, familiar buzz, but no longer penetrated her cow mind. She marched docilely, mimicking every move the slave made.

Lyla awakened in the dark, gasping for breath. Her lungs heaved, prevented from finding any air. Her body wriggled desperately, unable to escape her unseen bondage. The lack of oxygen killed her struggles quickly. As her body involuntarily relaxed, an audible hiss of pumps sounded and her lungs inflated. An invisible mechanism forced her breathing, inflating and deflating her lungs at regular intervals. She was helpless, forced to endure the enforced respiration.

Unable to do any differently, she relaxed, breathing in time with the machine, allowing it to control her breathing. She could feel a long, rubbery tasting tube blocking her mouth open from which the air issued. She tested out her nose, but found it completely blocked. Her lifeline came through the thick tube in her mouth.

She was unable to see, stuck in utter blackness. Without outside reference, she could not determine the full extent of her bondage. Slowly wriggling her body caused a slow swaying sensation, leading her to believe that she was somehow suspended in the air. Her ears were unblocked; she could hear the hiss of the air pumps as they slowly breathed for her.

Something was gripping her tightly in a second skin. From the tube in her mouth, she suspected it was probably rubber or latex. Her lesbian escapades with her friends in the past had involved some kinky clothing, so she was no stranger to the possibilities. Air flowing over her breasts and ass told her that her most intimate parts were completely exposed, accessible to the air. Otherwise, she was completely closed off, strung up and forced to breathe the air given to her.

She gave up struggling to think instead, letting the system breathe for her. The last thing she remembered was having hot sex with Samantha. She had been surprised at Samantha’s turnaround. She hadn’t seemed the type, always prudish and uncomfortable with Lyla’s freewheeling lesbian ways. She cursed herself mentally. She knew she should have been more suspicious! Nobody makes a complete turnaround that quickly! It must’ve been wishful thinking on her part, her longtime crush on Samantha overriding her good sense. She didn’t regret the sex, though. That had been the hottest encounter she had ever experienced.

Given what she now knew, the ending was almost predictable. Samantha must’ve been brainwashed by one of those cults. She vaguely remembered hearing something about cows, but the image that stuck in her head was that of the female in fetish get up right before she passed out. Was that her destiny? To become one of those guards, locked permanently in skintight latex?

She didn’t mind being locked in latex, but she drew the line at being a mindless idiot. She stiffened her resolve, telling herself not give in, even if the conditioning felt oh so good. So far, though, the situation looked grim. She was bound and exposed, ready to be touched by anybody that came along. For some reason, that thought inflamed her body, even though a core of fear tempered with resistance prevented her from giving into it.

She hung there for several minutes, slowly getting used to her bondage. By flexing various parts of her body, she was able to determine that she was suspended via five points: her wrists, chest, and ankles were held upwards in some fashion. She was able to flex her elbows and knees somewhat, but was otherwise immovable in her black prison.

The sound of the door opening interrupted her struggles. Sharp clacks echoed throughout the chamber, leading her to believe that this new intruder wore high heels or boots of some kind. She could feel the air from the intruder’s entrance tickling softly over her immobile body. Was this her captor?

The steps came closer. She could hear the intruder’s breathing near her left ear. A tingle started at her back, a line being drawn ever so slowly down her neck, past her shoulder blades, and down her back. Lyla tensed, unsure as to what would come next. The finger continued to trace downwards, over the bumps of her spine, dropping to the curve of her ass. Lyla gave a little squeal as the fingers slipped over the slope of her butt, past her ass and into her pussy. She jerked convulsively, desperately trying to calm down so she could resynchronize her body with the system pumping her body full of air.

A low, sultry voice laughed unkindly. “I thought that might get you going,” said the disembodied voice. “I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time to spend with you, but the least I can do is to get you started down the right path. I can’t afford to have another cow almost succeed at escaping her slavery. Some might start to question my procedures, and my suppliers definitely would be unhappy that I’m not meeting my production numbers.”

A hand unexpectedly cupped one of Lyla’s breasts and started massaging it gently. She reined herself in tightly, preventing herself from jumping again, but she was unable to stop herself from trying to breathe slightly faster. The pumping system ignored her exertions, filling her with oxygen at regular intervals. Getting resynchronized with the pumps required her to decrease her arousal, something which was mightily difficult to do when someone was playing with her tits.

“I see you like that, cow. Unfortunately, you’re getting too excited for your respirator.” She sounded unsympathetic to Lyla’s ears. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that uncomfortable need to be high strung shortly.”

Lyla was able to get her breathing back in sync with the pump again, just in time to hear some kind of creaking sound. The air in her mouth tasted funny, but the machine pumped on and she was forced to breathe it in. There was absolutely no room for resistance.

The immediacy of her bondage started to feel like it was far away. She felt floaty and warm in her outfit, hanging above the floor. She breathed in and out slowly, her mind drifting to a new plane where everything was colorful and happy. Under her full rubber facemask her face took on a sappy grin. Her body completely relaxed, her bad thoughts of resistance blowing away on the wind. She didn’t mind not being able to move anymore, relaxing totally into her bondage.

“There,” said the voice, now exploding with shards of color. “That will give you a new outlook on life. You won’t be able to think any bad thoughts while the slave gas is oozing through your brain. It’s too bad this is a new development – it makes it so much easier for us to show girls how nice it is being a cow. If our predictions hold, you should absorb the programming five times faster with this coursing through your system!”

“It’s not all fun and games, though,” the nice voice continued sympathetically. “We still need to get your breasts altered and your body adjusted. Just think, though, soon you’ll be a mindless cow! Isn’t that grand?”

It was indeed grand. She could see the pink cows on parade, stepping high in latex tutus, jumping and wheeling around the bed. She started counting the cows, being very careful not to count any of them twice. Completely occupied in this task, she was totally unaware when the doctor pierced her chest with needles four times.

She continued counting the prancing cows as headphones were gently fitted over her ears. She only stopped when her visions of cows were suddenly replaced with images of real cows right before her eyes. She would have giggled if she could have at the sight of the cows looking funny in their uniforms. Silly, she thought, cows only have four breasts, not six. The languid thought was broken up and flew away softly as new sounds filtered through her headphones. Bright green and blue colors dazzled her dilated eyes, contributing to her psychedelic dreams.

“Breathe deep, good cow,” said the monotone voice in her ears. “Let yourself relax into the colors, feel your obedience to our commands. Your resistance is suppressed, your cow nature now emerges and reveals itself. Your old, silly and irrelevant personality melts away as you strive to learn your destiny, your place in the herd. Good cow. Follow the simulation and breathe deeply, internalizing your slave personality deep inside you. Feel the cow, become the cow.”

Lyla was now completely mesmerized. By itself, the displays and subliminals could have done the job. Now, with the addition of the slave gas, her old personality felt as solid as a piece of tissue paper, easily replaced with the reality of being a cow, obeying the herd.

Her body was completely relaxed, her lungs inflating and deflating at the will of the facility. Everything she did now had a purpose. Everything she was wanted to be a cow.

With these few thoughts completely occupying her reduced capacity to think, she didn’t react as the doctor adjusted her body as though she was a Barbie doll. Her legs were cranked part, and a dildo connected to a machine was positioned between her legs. Two large, metallic domes with rubber interiors were positioned on her dangling breasts, completely capturing the flesh inside. To these breasts were attached training pumps, pumps necessary to simulate the feeling of being actually milked as a cow.

These machines were soon turned on, pulling and tugging on her breasts, fucking her pussy deeply. In the cow’s joyful mind, these were simply new ways to enjoy obeying mindlessly. With every suck and pump more of her useless intelligence escaped, leaving behind a loyal cow. As she neared orgasm, the pumps pushing air into her lungs sped up, forcing her to breathe faster to compensate. She orgasmed once, hard, breathing in obedience and breathing out resistance. The rhythm of the system slowed down, but didn’t stop. It kept working on her impersonally, molding her into the perfect cow.

Oblivious to the world, the cow didn’t hear as the doctor said goodbye and closed the door, leaving her to her delicious torture. The multicolored cows in her mind danced again, their heavy breasts jiggling back and forth as they moved.

The slave assistant escorted Samantha on an interminably long walk. Their final destination turned out to be a standard cow feeding room. Oddly, the dildo that normally sat in the floor was missing. “Hurry up cow, we need to get you to training quickly today,” said the assistant. She didn’t bother removing the collar or leash as she led Samantha up to the feeding station on the wall. When she was almost in position, the slave removed her tight gag, slipping the harness over her head.

Her newly merged cow persona kneeled down in front of the dildo loosely hanging from the wall. Without hesitation, she leaned forward and expertly took the dildo deep into her throat. Without fuss, she pumped it quickly and efficiently until it gave up its bounty. It wasn’t long before she had eaten her fill. She stood back up and let the slave buckle the ball gag tightly back onto her face. Without further ado, the slave led Samantha back out of the room.

Samantha-cow continued following along after the slave assistant, carefully noting the layout of the facility around her. This task was greatly complicated by the swaying of the rubber pumps hanging out of the assistant’s ass and pussy. After catching herself blankly staring at their alluring motion, she took ahold of herself, slowly moving her head from side to side to take in an objective view of the facility. There would be plenty of time for play after she figured out how to take out the doctor. She wasn’t quite sure what organization the doctor stood for, but she figured that baby steps were the way to go. Once the doctor was remade into a cow, it would be simple to force her to tell Samantha-cow everything she needed to know to run the place herself.

After a few more minutes of acting docile behind the slave assistant, Samantha-cow was quickly starting to become bored. Whoever thought up the facility must’ve been a rather dull character. White is nice and all, but not absolutely everything has to be monotone all the time. A splash of color would perk this place right up. Her mind started wandering to other subjects. What should she call herself now? Samantha-cow was technically accurate, as she was an amalgamation of the two, but it didn’t exactly roll off the tongue very easily. Not much inspiration came from her cow memories – most of those involved being fucked or being milked in some way. Highly enjoyable pursuits, but not exactly name producing ones. She mentally shrugged. Samantha would just have to do, the cow side of her would be implied. It’s not as if the two sides of her could be separated anymore anyway.

Lost in her thoughts, Samantha didn’t immediately notice when the monotonous hallways started changing into more interesting environs. She had been following the slave on autopilot, docilely following whatever direction the gentle tug of the leash led her. For a long time there had been nothing interesting to see, only long white corridors with locked doors and intersections with other corridors to break up the monotony.

Now though, they seem to be entering a viewing section where large glass windows took up the walls instead of locked doors. Curious, Samantha surreptitiously turned her head slightly to watch what was going on. A long row of what looked like small cubicles were broken up with partition walls. Inside each partition stood a cow garbed similarly to herself. Barely visible at the door of the room stood a guard, very obviously not a cow guard like Sophie or Andrea had become – the number of breasts on her chest was a firm two. She speculated for a quick moment on how much effort it might take to convert all the regular guards into cows.

The realization that had not penetrated at first now flowed into her mind. This was a milking room! She hadn’t recognized it at first because she had always been inside, being milked, or mindlessly being led about without taking notice of her environment. The cows had their backs to her, producing the clear, white milk that flowed steadily up through tubing in the ceiling. Even from her current vantage point she could tell the cows were being well pleasured – despite the fact that they were secured firmly in place, their bodies wriggled uncontrollably. She could see the dildo hot pants strapped to each lithe body, and became wet herself. She looked longingly at her own breasts, disappointed that it would take days for her other breasts to completely develop again to producing status.

She turned away from the erotic scene, determined not to be distracted until she had won her freedom. First, she needed a plan. Maybe there was a control room in this place? It would certainly be a good place to formulate a plan. She would make sure to look for one as they marched. They continued walking, the assistant tugging gently at the leash that led to her collar as they rounded a corner.

As they continued on, Samantha noticed that at every intersection there were two signs. One had a number and the other a letter, each of them pointing down a different corridor like street signs. According to the current signs, they were at the intersection of ‘BB’ and ‘33.’ As they continued, she started to take careful note of what each sign read, trying to build a mental map of the facility.

She quickly jerked herself to a halt when the slave in front of her paused, carefully trying to make it seem as though she was obedient to the slave’s every command. It wouldn’t do to be caught out before she was ready to make her move. Approaching them rapidly from around a bend several intersections farther down, the doctor strode forward confidently. Samantha quickly closed down her expression, staring off a thousand yards into the distance and letting a dopey grin fall over her face.

“Ah, there you are,” said the doctor. “My favorite assistant and cow, going to get some exercise!” She slipped up close to Samantha, tracing the small nubs on her chest below her existing breasts. “They’re already beginning to sprout! I know you’ll be much happier when they completely come in. Just remember, good things come to those who wait!” Samantha mooed softly into her ball gag in agreement.

The doctor continued tracing the curves of Samantha’s breasts before visibly controlling herself. “I’m getting distracted again. You cows are just so irresistible!” She walked back over to her slave assistant, the latex in her outfit creaking with every step. “I have more tests do on the new cow,” she said. “I’m a little concerned that the new slave gas has an instant effect on obedience, but doesn’t give the long-term results we’re hoping for. When you’re done escorting the cow here to the exercise room, go wait for me at control station Beta. It may be a few hours until I’m ready, but I’m sure you’ll find something to occupy yourself with until then.”

She brusquely turned and walked away, completely comfortable in her tight outfit. Samantha admired the doctor’s dress as she left, idly thinking that the doctor would look infinitely better bound inside a cow suit. Her thoughts were interrupted again when the slave tugged on her leash. “Come cow,” said the slave. “We still have a ways to go yet.”

They proceeded down the hallway, passing several more sections. On the walls, Samantha read ‘BB-25.’ Instead of another generic hallway with more doors as Samantha was expecting, the next stretch of the facility was mostly blank, with only one door sitting directly equidistant between two intersections. As they passed, Samantha eyed the special door carefully. ‘NO ADMITTANCE TO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNELL,’ the door stated emphatically. ‘PROPER IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED FOR ENTRANCE,’ was further written below the first statement. The door was rather solid looking. It was unlikely that there would be any way she’d be able to force it open.

Getting inside the mysterious door suddenly went to the top of her priority list when she saw a sign that had been hidden from view when they first approached. ‘BETA CONTROL ROOM,’ was painted clearly in large black letters. Her mind went into overdrive, trying to figure out how to gain entrance. The puzzle was solved for her when an LED mounted above the door flickered from red to green and back again as the slave assistant passed nearby.

Well, that’s a possibility, she thought to herself. Either the slave has an RFID chip implanted inside her, or it’s embedded somewhere in her clothing. If it was implanted inside the slave, she didn’t stand much of a chance. If it was inside her clothing though, just maybe...

She betrayed no flicker of interest, continuing to shadow the slave faithfully. However, she was carefully noting every intersection they passed now, committing the way back to memory. This could be the best chance she’d get to take control of her destiny.

The corridors turned back into walls with doors, each new section a carbon copy of the last. Samantha had to work to keep her mind from slipping back into fantasizing about the slave assistant’s body, its polished form fixed closely in front of her. Her excitement rose when the slave stopped and turned in front of a door. She turned the lever, opening the door inwards. Hinges mounted on the corridor side squealed softly. The assistant tugged the leash gently, pulling Samantha inside the room.

While the slave’s back was still facing her, Samantha looked around quickly. She had been noting where the cameras were mounted and extrapolating their field of view. She had noticed that each corridor had a camera looking straight down it, so she hadn’t wanted to make a move that might trigger an alarm. Inside the room, however, the only cameras mounted faced the training harness standing slack in the middle of the room.

Samantha’s excitement rose, now ready to attempt an escape from her captor. She moved up close to the slave, pretending to be interested in the loose straps hanging from the ceiling. The slave stood stationary. “Cow, you will stand over next to the harness. You will receive exercise and be reinforced. Your goal is to reintegrate with the herd. You will... ack, gurgle...” The slave slumped forward ungracefully onto the ground, out cold.

Samantha unclasped her hands from the ball she had made with them to use as a club. She wanted to make some kind of snarky remark, but wasn’t sure if anybody was monitoring the security system for sound. It was better to err on the side of caution. She wasn’t sure she would get another chance if this effort didn’t succeed.

She looked at the slack figure on the ground, considering. The slave assistant wasn’t quite the same size as her, but it would have to do. She’d have to swap costumes with her and hope no one noticed until it was too late. She sucked gently on the rubber ball in her mouth, reluctant to take it off. She compromised, deciding to strip the slave first.

She laid the slave out on her back, deciding what she needed to work on first. Kneeling, Samantha worked on the dildos retained deep inside the slave. A quick twist on the valve for each pump released the pressure, after which she slid each fat dildo out slowly. She was amazed and concerned by their length, wondering how she’d ever get them to fit inside her. Strange, she thought, although she was getting wet just from thinking about fitting them inside her, they came out from inside the assistant bone dry. They were set aside, one thin and long, the other short and stubby.

Next, she pulled off the slave’s mask, revealing a remarkably well boned face and short cropped brunette hair. Samantha hoped she would be able to hide her long, red hair inside the mask somehow. It couldn’t be helped that the slave’s hair didn’t look anything like hers. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice before was too late.

The white heels and black latex stockings were easy to remove, and came off quickly. The white latex gloves also didn’t take too much persuasion to remove. The latex maid outfit, however, was considerably more stubborn. Without any conscious help from the maid she was forced to manhandle her, turning her body over with effort to locate the zipper on the back of the outfit. She needed to roll the slave over several times before she was able to extract her from the skintight outfit. When she finally was able to remove the costume, she discovered that the breast area on the gown had two air pockets that fit over the top of each breast to make them look larger than they actually were. There were also rubber nubs lining each cup, sure to rub and arouse the wearer mercilessly.

The slave girl lay naked on the floor, her pink skin ready to be covered by the cow’s latex suit. The cow stripped in a businesslike fashion, doing her best to remove her clothing as fast as possible. First came the hoof boots and the rubber opera gloves. Her feet ached to be standing flat on the floor, but she consoled herself by thinking that she soon would be in the slave’s high heels. She regretfully unbuckled the ball gag harness, laying it gently on the ground after giving the ball one last lick. She peeled the latex mask and cat suit off her body without too much trouble. The practice she gained before when changing into her goth outfit helped immensely. Soon, she was also naked and ready to complete the swap.

The slave was twice as difficult to dress, her limp limbs getting in the way at every turn. With much wrestling she was able to get the slave’s legs inside the cat suit, after which it became slightly easier. With the latex outfit wrapped around the slave’s body, Samantha realized that the slave’s lack of extra growing breasts would definitely be noticed sooner or later. Only two healthy breasts were clasped by the outfit, held rigidly into position by the corset now wrapping her chest. She shrugged and continued dressing her victim. It couldn’t be helped, there simply wasn’t anything she could do about it.

She cinched the hoof boots on tightly, then moved on to the slave’s face. The hood easily covered the slave’s short, cropped hair, but a lack of any hair flowing through the top ponytail opening was conspicuous by its absence. There was nothing she could do about that either, unfortunately, so she moved on. She gently opened the slave’s mouth and pushed the ball gag inside. She tightened the straps running below, above, and behind her head such that the gag was good and tight, preventing speech. Samantha stood back admiring her creation. Her former cow suit fit the slave fairly well, though the outfit didn’t quite fit in a place or two. Overall, she looked like a proper cow. Now, all I need to do is look like the assistant, Samantha thought to herself.

She grabbed the slave stockings, unrolling them quickly up her legs. The white latex shimmered, matching the decor of the facility. The white high-heeled shoes provided an interesting contrast to the black stockings, while simultaneously relieving the pain in her arches. Next, she put on the white gloves, sliding them up to her armpits. The mask was more difficult, forcing her to creatively hide her long hair under the material before lacing it shut. She wasn’t completely successful, the baggy hair leaking out through cracks in the back of the mask. Her face was now sealed under the shiny, faceless exterior.

The dress didn’t pose too many problems, seeing as how it didn’t have any leg pieces attached to it. She shivered delicately as each breast slipped into a waiting cup. The rubber nubs teased her irresistibly, causing her breasts to stiffen and rub against the nubs more often. She zipped up the back of the dress, trying to continue despite her clear arousal.

The last two pieces posed the most danger to her libido. They sat on the ground, two dark, black slices of material lying there enticingly. She picked up the ass plug first. The short, fat stubby projection looked large in her hands. She twisted the valve on the pump shut, then positioned the business end right below the intended hole. She took a deep breath and pushed gently, trying to get her tight orifice to accept the hard rubber object. Unsuccessful, she pushed harder until she felt it pop past the tight opening. She let it dangle, the swinging pump doing naughty things to her insides. She moved on, grabbing the dildo. After shutting the valve on the pump, this one slipped inside easily, the thin projectile sliding quickly up her wet canal.

She let the pumps for the dildo drop as well, and was surprised when unlike the ass plug the dildo slipped out and fell to the ground, tickling her vagina on the way out. Grumbling, she picked it up a second time and slid it back inside her in a more controlled fashion. With one hand on the dildo, she clasped the other gently over the round rubber pump. She squeezed, air rushing inside the skinny rubber projection. Gasping, she continued pumping the dildo until it was hard and immovable inside her. Ridges on the dildo rubbed her sensitive parts oh so gently. Feeling incredibly full, she dropped the end of the pump, which dangled freely at the end of the rubber tubing.

It swung back and forth, eliciting a jerk of pleasure with every swing. She mooed in delight. This was much better than a stationary dildo! Experimentally she used the other pump to inflate the plug in her ass as well. The combination of the two was absolutely heavenly, but incredibly distracting. She stood up, just savoring the sensations for a few moments.

She came back to reality quickly, ready to work on her plan. Clearly, in her current disposition the slave wouldn’t be able to shout for help, but without having her hands bound she would be able to remove the gag in no time. Samantha struggled with the slave’s body, knowing that her only choice was to get the slave bound into the training harness. Stuck inside that apparatus she would be unable to resist at all, and might even learn something about how to be a cow.

She dragged the slave over to the harness, leaning the weight of the slave’s body on her shoulder as she strapped the slave’s waist to the harness. Mindful of the cameras, she did her best to pretend that everything was normal. She knew that if anybody was directly watching they would be incredibly suspicious, but she hoped that if anybody was only glancing at the security feed they wouldn’t notice.

Once the slave’s waist was buckled into the harness, she strapped each wrist to the cuffs provided on the belt. She wrapped the upper back harness around the bottom of the slave’s breasts and strapped it into place, locking it shut. Finally, she fitted a pair of headphones hanging from the harness gently to her head. Now the slave would permanently be out of her hair for a while. The slave moaned weakly into the gag, but didn’t wake up.

Samantha stroked her face, murmuring quietly, “I’m sorry, unlike the doctor I have no use for slaves that aren’t cows. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. If I succeed, I’ll be back to make sure you make the transition to being a proper cow. You’ll love having a bunch of cow sisters.” She leaned forward and licked the ball gag that was pushed deeply into the slave’s mouth. Kissing her on the cheek, Samantha turned and awkwardly made her way to the door, the rubber pumps dangling and swinging back and forth uncontrollably. Her top slid slightly over her breasts, rubbing her sensitive flesh against the rubber nubs. She paused in the doorway to savor the pleasure. I don’t think I can ever go back to those other dildos, she thought, these are way too awesome! She slipped out the door, heading for the control room she had spotted earlier.

Lyla was delighted. The pink cows had changed colors now and were climbing the walls. Swirls of colors danced around the periphery of her vision, distracting and entrancing at the same time. She had long since lost touch with reality, prancing and dancing with her newfound friends. She danced naked, the air playing over her free swinging breasts deliciously. As she danced, she sang with the other cows, repeating their mantra. “I obey, I am a cow. The herd will guide and protect me. They will please me and I will please them. Mistress commands me, and I obey.”

They pirouetted in circles around the bronze statue, shadows flickering crazily in the small room. They twirled and bowed, paying obeisance to the imposing statue. Once as Lyla rounded the front of the statue she paused, taking in the view. The statue was dressed in a cow’s outfit, legs balance delicately on her toes, six shiny breasts standing out large and proud. The only part of the statue different from the other cows was the head. Long red hair flowed from an uncovered mousy face. A tiara sat on her head, giving the statue a regal look. It only vaguely registered in Lyla’s muzzy mind that she recognized the figure before the cows prancing behind her pushed her on, mindlessly whispering their mantra and performing their dance. Lyla stepped onwards, letting the cows draw her back into their irresistible rhythm.

She lost track of how long she danced, but was disappointed when the scene began to lose its color. It became gray, dissolving slowly into blackness. She began to regain her mind, the mindless obedience losing its immediacy. Once the scene vanished, she started feeling her physical body quickly; her form still bound tightly, the pump that controlled her body pushing air in and out regularly.

When the sound of the pump vanished suddenly, she started to panic. She had let the system control her for so long, she felt almost as though she didn’t know how to breathe on her own anymore. She gasped weakly, choking as the breathing tube was pulled quickly out of her mouth. She remained blind, but was able to gulp down sweet, cool air. It felt so good to be able to breathe on her own again! She almost didn’t register that the pumps on her breasts were off and there was nothing filling her pussy.

She concentrated on her breathing, barely starting to catch her breath when she was rudely interrupted by the voice of the doctor. “Report, cow! Tell me how you feel!” She ordered.

“Fuck you, bitch,” said Lyla angrily. “You kidnap me, put me in bondage, control my breathing, then expect me to enjoy being a cow? You’re out of your freaking mind!”

The doctor sighed. “Damn, the gas only works while the victim is under. It doesn’t appear to accelerate the training process. Good to know. Thanks for the information, cow! Soon you’ll learn to replace that resistance of yours with obedience.” She slid a finger around the swell of Lyla’s breasts. “I will look forward to that day.”

Lyla started to further protest her predicament when the dreaded rubber tube was shoved back into her mouth. Knowing what would be coming next she held her breath as the tube was buckled back into place. When the pump started back up, she let her breath go, synchronizing her lungs with the machine. It pumped steadily, her mouth feeling violated by its presence.

The voices and colors started back up again. This time Lyla was eager for them, wanting to trade her current stark reality for the idyllic life of an endlessly dancing cow. She barely noticed as the pumps on her breasts started vibrating and a dildo was stuffed back into her pussy. Life was pink hued and friendly when you were an obedient cow.

Samantha walked along carefully in the high heels. She was much more used walking in her hoof boots, and lamented having to leave them behind. At least with these shoes on the heels were up high enough to relieve the pain she now received when walking without heels.

It was difficult to balance all the new sensations she was experiencing with her need to navigate to the control room. She remembered that the control room was somewhere near the intersection of ‘BB’ and ‘25,’ but several turns had been made by the slave assistant before they had arrived at the training room. She currently was walking past BB-23, but she couldn’t stop to think about directions. She needed to act confidently and without hesitation, or it would be easy for them to detect that she was an imposter. All of this was made more difficult by the dildos nestled tightly in her pussy and ass. The inflated demons tortured her mercilessly with every step, the swaying rubber pumps nudging and jostling her insides tantalizingly. The rubber nubs in her breast cups slid up and down, inflaming the already turgid flesh. She could already feel the moisture starting to slide down the side of her internal lips.

She bit her cheek, pretending not to notice the sensations. Ah, here she was at BB-23, she must be getting close. Purely by instinct she made a left turn, hoping that she was headed in the right direction. It would look rather suspicious if she had to make a U-turn in the middle of the corridor. She couldn’t imagine that tightly controlled brainwashed slaves ever got lost in the facility.

A shiver of trepidation and excitement skidded down her back when she saw the number ‘24’ at the next intersection. She must be getting close to the control room. Hopefully the RFID was built into the slave clothing, otherwise this would be a really short escape.

The solid door came into view, large block warnings ominously standing out. She walked straight down the corridor until she was perpendicular to the door before making a ninety degree turn to face it. She stepped forward and waited, hoping the door wouldn’t set off an alarm. She crossed her fingers mentally and stared at the LED mounted above the door. The light flickered green, so she hesitantly reached out a hand for the handle. At her touch, the door opened smoothly, moving soundlessly on unseen hinges.

Inside she found a small space, no larger than a typical storage room. They call this a control room? She thought snidely in her head. One wall was completely covered with monitors, each screen showing four feeds from different sets of cameras. Another station at the far wall had fewer monitors, but they weren’t displaying camera feeds. Sitting against the third wall was a series of gas canisters, complete with tubing connecting them to currently unoccupied gas masks.

Samantha quickly closed the door behind her, finding and engaging a mechanical lock. It wouldn’t do for her to be interrupted while she was snooping. She started surveying the monitors, trying to come up with a plan. Obviously without extra clothing, she would have to continue masquerading as the slave assistant. It was a better disguise than most, because her face was completely anonymous behind the mask. It would only do for so long, however, as she could start to feel her newly growing breasts starting to uncomfortably press against the corset built into the maid outfit.

What she really needed besides her disguise were the tools to reach her ultimate goal. Before she had merged with the cow, her goal was incredibly simple—to escape. Now, she wanted more. Not just control of some, but control of all the cows in the facility. Curious at what the consoles at the end of the room might be displaying, she decided to sit down to get an idea of what she should do next. Distracted by her plotting, she had forgotten about the dildos mounted in her butt. She squirmed uncomfortably when she accidentally sat on them, desperate for some relief. She put on a pair of headphones that were sitting on the desk and was treated to a section of a monologue spoken by an impersonal voice. She recognized the voice as the one that had instructed her when she was initially learning how to be a cow.

Although not technically savvy, she recognized an indoctrination programming station when she saw one. A microphone mounted to the desk only seemed to verify her suspicions. On one screen was an array of buttons with labels such as ‘add command,’ ‘alter command,’ and ‘delete command.’ She tried touching the ‘add command’ button, and was treated to a different UI that requested she speak her command into the microphone. She leaned forward closer to the microphone. “You are a cow. You will obey. The herd is life, but Samantha is your queen. You owe her your loyalty. She will never lead you wrong, for she is a goddess. Bow down and worship Samantha, queen of the cows. You will obey.”

She felt that she was laying it on a little thick, but shrugged, thinking it couldn’t hurt. She did want to control the facility, after all. The UI blinked green, then reloaded the main window with all the buttons. A short time later she smiled as she heard her voice coming through her headset. The commands must be part of a continuous loop being fed to all of the cows as they were being reinforced. She set the headset down, satisfied. That was one part of the puzzle solved, but she couldn’t consider her victory complete until she had dealt with the meddlesome doctor.

She stood back up and wandered over to the security camera console, hoping to find the doctor on one of the cameras. At first she was frustrated in her endeavor, as all the cameras displayed different corridors in the facility – none of them showed rooms. She again looked off to the side and found another touchscreen, this one with different types of feeds label on the buttons. She selected the ‘rooms’ feed, and all the cameras on the monitors immediately swapped with countless numbers of rooms.

She started looking at each feed, skipping over the empty rooms or those that contained unrecognizable figures. Samantha unconsciously recognized a familiar scene, and her eyes flicked back towards it. She spotted a cow strapped into a training harness, her arms bound tightly to her waist. The cow stepped forward awkwardly on her boots, staring blankly at a display on the wall. Samantha smiled, recognizing the slave assistant being trained in her cow suit, then continued onwards, looking for any trace of the doctor.

After eliminating most of the displays, she finally spotted a black bound figure suspended in midair. From off screen she spotted the doctor moving in behind the bound figure, slipping a thick dildo inside her. Samantha noted the number of the room the doctor was in, now ready to leave the control room. It would be best if she could accost the doctor while she was otherwise occupied. If she was distracted while fucking one of the cows it would definitely fit the bill.

She turned, ready to leave when a flash of inspiration hit her. She had recognized the tanks on the floor from the cow guards. The new guards never seem to be without them. Now she wondered why. She examined the tanks more closely, pleasantly surprised with the words ‘slave gas’ were clearly printed on the side. She wasn’t quite sure what the gas would do, but with any luck she’d be able to use it to subdue the doctor without too many issues.

She hefted one of the tanks onto her back, strapping it into place so she could carry it more easily. She curled the tubing and gas mask over one arm, heading to the door. She’d have to make this quick before any attentive slaves in the other control rooms noticed something odd. With any luck, the doctor would never see it coming.

Samantha swung the door open carefully, the weight of the canisters bearing down heavily on her back. She wasn’t able to make it to her destination as quickly as she had hoped – trying to balance on the unfamiliar heels and navigating at the same had slowed her down. As the door swung open, she was gratified to see that she had gotten two strokes of good luck—not only was the doctor oriented with her back to the door, she was also still fucking the cow, her head back and open with pleasure. “Yes cow, take it deeply. Soon you will be a cow!”

Samantha stepped forward carefully, doing her best to be as silent as possible. She was able to get in close without the doctor noticing, the doctor too occupied with giving and receiving pleasure to spend any attention on her surroundings. Samantha clasped the gas mask in one hand, the tubing coiled over her right shoulder. She reached back with one hand to turn on the gas, then made her move before the doctor could hear the hissing sound it made. She darted forward, shoving the mask imperfectly onto the doctor’s face with one hand, wrapping the other arm around her chest to pull her backwards into Samantha’s embrace.

The surprise was total, the doctor ineffectively flailing her arms while she fell backwards, the strap-on dildo sliding wetly out of the cow’s snatch. The doctor could not avoid sucking down some of the gas, despite the incomplete seal of the mask on her face. She was able to struggle for several more seconds, but unable to break out of Samantha’s strong arms with the gas affecting her brain. Her body went slack, becoming deadweight. Samantha slipped her gently down onto the ground, making sure now to readjust the fit of the mask on the doctor’s face.

“Getting a little taste of your own medicine, now are we doctor?” Samantha asked cheerily. “How does it feel to have your own mechanisms used against you? I suppose you would answer if you could, but I imagine your brain is dancing with delight.” Samantha leaned over and examined the doctors breasts. “They’re nice and tight right now.” She traced them with her hands. “Not quite bulky enough for my taste, though. I think you will really benefit in so many ways from being a cow.”

Samantha paused now, considering. She hadn’t really thought through what she would do once she captured the doctor. All of her tactics had led to this point, but no farther. She didn’t have a spare cow suit lying around to dress the doctor with, and even if she did, she couldn’t risk taking the mask off the doctor’s face. The doctor might have a backup plan she could put into motion if she wasn’t entranced by the gas. On the other hand, the gas wouldn’t last forever. She turned the nozzle on the gas tanks down, hoping a lower concentration would still be enough to keep the doctor docile, while also conserving the gas left in the tanks at the same time.

“Halt!” said a commanding voice from behind her. Samantha turned around, her pulse racing. She was caught! What would she do now? Standing at the entrance to the room stood the slave assistant, still clad in Samantha’s cow costume. She was flanked on both sides by the cow guards, menacing black roadblocks. They fanned out behind the slave, maintaining their position behind her.

“Did you really think you could succeed?” asked the slave. “It only took a few minutes for the slave in control room Alpha to notice my predicament and send rescue. It’s impossible to do anything in this facility without someone noticing it.” She frowned. “The real question is, how did our conditioning fail so badly? How were you able to avoid becoming a cow? We’ve never been completely unsuccessful at a conversion before.”

Samantha’s face took on a sly expression, invisible under the slave mask she wore. “It didn’t fail. It was one hundred percent successful.” She sidled closer to the slave. “I am a cow. I belong to the herd. There’s just one difference.” She moved in close, invading the slave’s personal space. “I obey nobody. I am dominant. I am the queen cow.” The slave continued to stand there impassively as Samantha leaned in and kissed her cheek gently. “I know you’re unhappy with your position here. I can tell you don’t get aroused by this costume anymore.”

Samantha continued, whispering in her ear. “When I pulled those dildos out of you, they were completely dry. Look at you now—you’re dripping, and those breasts are stiff. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy being a cow.”

“Irrelevant,” said the slave, in a husky voice. I obey my mistress, and she controls the facility. I have obeyed her for years, and I will continue obeying her, whether or not she gives me pleasure.”

Samantha circled around the assistant and the guards, continuing her efforts to subvert the assistant. “Maybe what you need is a change in bossery,” she offered. “If you obey me as your mistress instead, I can guarantee that you’ll get to be just as obedient as you are now, but I’ll treat you as just another cow.” Samantha surreptitiously screwed the valves on the cow guard slave gas tanks shut, calmly continuing her monologue to mask her actions. She was gambling that the slave cows wouldn’t act independently without direct orders. She leaned in forward, again whispering into the slave assistant’s ears. “Imagine sitting there, your breasts hooked up to the machines, being pulled and sucked, milk from your breasts spurting and leaking into the pumps. Head phones continuously hissing pure obedience into your brain, dildos pumping into your pussy. Why would you give that up to obey a broken mistress, now weak and helpless on the floor?”

Samantha smiled gently. “Perhaps it’s time to stop pretending, time to fully give yourself to a mistress who cares, devoting your mind and soul to pleasing someone who will command your thoughts and body utterly.”

The slave was clearly starting to have problems now trying to ignore Samantha’s words. They seemed so reasonable—when had the doctor ever gone out of her way to please her? She would always take, but would never listen to her poor slaves or give them the attention they craved. Samantha’s offer was sounding all too enticing. She shook off her incorrect thoughts, clinging to her loyalty for the doctor. “It won’t work,” she said sadly. I am the doctor’s creature. Guards, grab this disobedient cow. We will have to retrain her completely from scratch, erasing her mind.”

The guards shivered, but remained in place. “Sophie, Andrea!” Samantha commanded. “Stop this slave. She is trying to avoid her conversion into a cow. All must obey, all must be cows. All must obey the herd and their queen. All must obey me.”

Slowly falling out of the trance caused by the gas, the guards said simultaneously, “Samantha is our Queen. Samantha is our goddess, we must obey.” They seized the slave, easily nullifying her pathetic struggles. “I’m sorry it had to be this way,” said Samantha. “Don’t worry, I know you’ll enjoy being a proper cow. I certainly do.”

Samantha stood, squeezing her breasts. Milk flowed generously, saturating the pumps that worked on her chest incessantly. She found that her smile was almost permanently affixed to her face these days. Not only had she regained her cow status, she had also gained control of the entire facility.

She shifted her feet, feeling the long rubber tubes from her dildos swing back and forth, tickling her insides with pleasure. She had redressed herself in her cow outfit, retaining the inflatable dildos from the slave outfit she had worn during the daring plan that had won her so much. She balanced her feet and comfortable hoof boots, much preferred to the simple high heels she had worn when impersonating the slave. A rubber ball gag dug into her face, strapped tightly into her mouth via a strict harness. She licked it gently, savoring the dual sensations of being in control, yet tightly bound. Unlike the cows around her, she wore no headphones and watched no mesmerizing screen. She had sadly found that the subliminal voices and images had no effect on her merged psyche. On the other hand, the whole point of the obedience program was to enforce the obedience of all cows to her as their queen.

She was barely able to see the other cows around her, their milk being extracted relentlessly while their eyes viewed endless reinforcement. She squeezed and sucked, relishing the bondage of the other cows as much as her own. In the cube next to her sat the doctor, mindless and accepting as any cow, glassy eyed with huge oiled breasts. Facing her stood the former slave assistant, now also a graceful cow. They all stood in their stalls, similarly bound and accepting of their fate. They were all cows, contributing to the good of the herd and obeying their queen.

Samantha orgasmed at the thought, pumping the rest of the milk from her breasts into the plastic tubing. She turned the machine off, gently disconnecting the pump cups from her breasts. She unstrapped the gag from her mouth, setting it on a hook in her cube, ready for the next time she needed milking.

She moved over to an intercom mounted on the wall. “All cows should now report to the assembly room.” Her voice echoed through the room and down the halls of the facility. “Stop whatever you are doing and come. Your queen commands you.”

Samantha turned off the intercom, heading for the door. Other cows hooked up to their own pumps now started unhooking themselves. They were unable to disobey even if they were not completely finished. Many were flushed and frustrated, unable to climax before they had to obey her commands. Soon, a parade of cows strode through the doorway, a long line of identical slaves.

Samantha stood at the head of a large, white room. A repurposed conference room, the tables and chairs had been removed to make room for the cows, arrayed in rows bowed toward the front of the room. She surveyed the ranks of her obedient slave cows with satisfaction.

On either side of the room stood Sophie and Andrea, no longer having slave gas pumped into their lungs. Their obedience to the gas had been replaced with devotion to their queen. They would obey any order Samantha gave them unthinkingly.

“Thank you all for coming,” Samantha started, acting as if they all had a choice in the matter. “Congratulations to you all! Since I took control, milk production has doubled! As they say, a happy cow is a productive cow, and you all are clearly happy.” The cows mooed in agreement.

“I want to thank the doctor for making this all possible.” She gestured toward a cow, indistinguishable from the others sitting in the front row. “Without her none of this would be possible. Despite the pettiness and vindictiveness she showed in the past, she is now a cow, and deserves to be treated no differently from any other cow.” At this announcement, the mooing was less certain. Many cows remember the brutalities they had faced her hands.

“Finally, I want to thank Lyla.” She stepped forward and pulled a cow out of the front line, this one garbed in a gothic cow outfit that looked quite different from the typical cow outfit. In many ways it looked similar to the outfit Samantha had worn when attempting to capture Lyla—the black latex miniskirt, the long stockings and opera gloves. Even her face was different from the other cows, not clasped by a full face mask. Instead, the mask she wore purposely exposed her face which was heavily made up in shades of black. “Although she was forcefully converted into a cow, the conversion process did not ruin her mind. I am pleased to announce that she has agreed to become my consort. You will obey any order she gives as though it came from me.” Samantha pulled Lyla in close and gave her a deep throated kiss. “I hope this makes up for that awful abduction,” she said quietly.

“Are you kidding?” asked Lyla. “I’m getting what I’ve always wanted – you! Although not quite in the way I expected.” She smiled wryly. “Who would have thought we’d be starting our own kingdom of cows? Besides, being milked is much better than I ever could have imagined.” She shivered happily. “What will you do next, my Queen?”

“I’m not sure,” replied Samantha. “But I know what we’ll do right now.” She pulled Lyla up next to her and faced her cow slaves. “We are all cows. We are all part of the herd. You love being cows. You love obeying me. You love obeying Lyla. You love your sister cows. Pleasure each other, giving into the love of the herd. Your queen commands it.” She turned back to Lyla, pulling her into an embrace.

The herd mood joyously with one voice, doing as their queen commanded.