The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was a quiet evening at home for Elisabeth, and that was just how she liked it. She wasn’t the type to enjoy a busy social life with lots of outings, parties, or visits. They mostly made her feel uncomfortable, and self-conscious.

This was partly too bad, because she’d married Brad, and Brad tended to like all those things. But, the silver lining to their marriage was that Brad mostly let her be. He knew his level of socializing wasn’t for her, and it didn’t bother him.

In practice this meant that sometimes Brad went out in the evenings without Elisabeth. But they were both secure enough in their marriage to be at peace with it. Elisabeth enjoyed her time alone around the house, Brad enjoyed his social time, and at the end of the night when they would come back together again, the two of them were happier for it.

It had been one more of these quiet evenings for Elisabeth, and she had so far loved every second of it.

She’d taken a long bath, and then after blow drying her hair, had taken her time in front of the mirror to comb out her curly red hair. It was easiest to comb it out right after it was dry; if she just left her curls all tangled, to be brushed out later, they’d only tangle themselves up more. It was always more of a hassle later.

She’d brushed them out until her hair was glossy and neat, then changed into some lounge clothes to read a book. She’d spent a few hours like that, and she was still reading her book when it occurred to her that she was thirsty.

She got up from where she’d been curled up on the couch in the den, leaving her book behind on her seat. She crossed through the house to the kitchen, to get a glass of something to drink.

When she had the glass down from the cupboard, she went to fill it with tap-water from the sink. But as she moved the glass under the spout she remembered her trip to the grocery store that day. She’d put a carton of milk in the cart, so there’d be some around the house for cereal in the mornings. She could be having a glass of milk right now, instead of water.

Elisabeth turned away from the sink, and walked to the fridge. She pulled the door open, eyes falling on the top shelf. That was where she usually kept the milk.

She expected to find the carton sitting there, waiting for her; waiting to be opened, and drunk.

But there was no carton of milk in the fridge.

Elisabeth frowned, and thought back to her grocery trip. Had she bought the milk, or only thought about it? She really tried to remember if she had put the milk in the cart. She’d thought so, but…

As Elisabeth stood there, with a hand resting on the open fridge door, she remembered her grocery trip more carefully. She’d reached for the carton of milk, but one of the grocery clerks had knocked over a display at that moment, and she’d turned to look in the direction of the noise.

When she’d gone back to what she was doing, she’d just assumed she’d already placed the milk in the cart and had gone to get the next item on her list. She hadn’t bothered checking to see if she’d actually taken it.

With a sigh Elisabeth swung the fridge door closed. They didn’t have milk in the house. What were they going to do at breakfast tomorrow? They’d used up the last of the milk that morning, before Elisabeth had gone to the store. It was part of the reason why she’d gone to the store. Now, she’d gone to the store and they still didn’t have milk. It had been a wasted trip.

And it was after eight o’clock, now. Elisabeth looked up at the kitchen clock to confirm. She and Brad lived close to the edge of town, and the grocery store she regularly went to was a solid fifteen minute drive. Brad had taken his car when he went out, so Elisabeth’s car was still in the driveway.

But a fifteen minute drive to the grocery store sounded like a lot of work to Elisabeth, when she’d just been the middle of reading her book. She’d been relaxing all evening. She didn’t exactly feel like undertaking a thirty minute chore.

She stood a minute longer in the kitchen thinking about her predicament, starting absently out the kitchen window as she did.

Inspiration struck. She didn’t have to drive fifteen minutes further into town. She could drive five minutes out of town; Green Hill Farms was right there, and they sold fresh milk. They kept their shop open until nine in the evening, too. They would still be open.

Elisabeth didn’t always buy milk there. If she had a lot of other things to buy, sometimes it made more sense to pick up milk along with the rest of her grocery list, from the grocery. That way she only had to make one stop.

But the farm was perfect for times like this, when milk was the only thing she needed to buy. As soon as she had the idea, she was out the kitchen door, pulling her arms through the arms of her coat to get it onto her body as she walked.

She’d left her keys in her coat pocket, so they were right there for her. She slipped a hand in, and took them out.

Elisabeth always kept the front door locked when she was at home alone, and she’d turned the knob of the back kitchen door so it had locked behind her when she’d stepped out. There was nothing else to lock up, and she had her keys in her hand, so she could let herself back in when she got back ten minutes from now with the milk.

Elisabeth walked around from the back of the house to the garage. She went in through the exterior garage door, through the garage, and came out onto the driveway.

In the next minute, she’d let herself into her car, and started it up. Thank god for Green Hill Farms, she thought, as she drove out the end of her street. She’d have her milk and be home in no time.

When you drove north on Elisabeth’s home street, it led you to a turn off onto the rural country two-lane highway. If you drove south instead, it led you to an intersection that connected to the main arterial road that ran through the town.

Elisabeth had driven north, in the direction of Green Hill Farms, and when she turned onto the highway, she turned her headlights up a bit. There were no cars coming in the other direction, and since it was a country road, it was possible to see straight ahead for quite some time. Elisabeth felt justified in using her high-beams.

The entrance to the dirt parking area outside Green Hills was wide, and easy to spot. Before Elisabeth knew it, she was turning in and parking her car.

It was a modestly sized farm, Elisabeth thought as she stepped out of her vehicle and shut the door. There were some bigger farms further down the way.

It was comprised of a farmhouse, and a barn further in the distance, as well as some acreage. But the little shop that sold the farm’s product was a freestanding structure set apart from the house, close to the dirt parking area. Hung above the shop windows and its entrance door was only a simple sign that read “Shop”— hand-painted, and nailed in place.

Elisabeth walked through the shop door, and set the bell on the side of it ringing.

When she crossed in, she noticed she was the only customer in the store. This wasn’t unusual, especially for a late night run like this. If she’d come on a week-end morning, it would have been a very different story.

The only other people in the shop were the farmer, and his wife, who were sitting behind the counter playing a game of cards. Clearly, Elisabeth was breaking up a lull that had been going on for some time. The card game looked far along— they hadn’t started it anytime recently.

They looked up at her together. “Good evening,” the farmer said, with a friendly smile.

Elisabeth returned his greeting, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement, too. She felt a little bad whenever she came to this little country store. She’d made conversation with both the farmer and his wife on at least a dozen occasions, and she still forgot their names every time.

The store had lots of dairy products, but Elisabeth was only interested in the milk. She bypassed the cheeses, the yogurts, the creams, in favor of a nice, big glass bottle full of it. It was satisfying to even look at, and it was a generous volume of it. More than in a grocery store carton.

She took the glass bottle off the refrigerated shelf, and turned back to the counter.

The wife had set her cards down for a second, and stood from the stool she’d been sitting on to come to the cash register. The farmer was still seated on his stool, considering his cards.

“Will that be all?” The farmer’s wife asked, with a friendly smile.

“Yes, just the milk,” Elisabeth said. “I meant to buy some today, but forgot on my earlier trip to the store. It’s times like these I really appreciate having Green Hill Farms as such a close neighbor.”

Normally Elisabeth didn’t chat with cash register clerks at her regular grocery store, because they were all strangers, and it made her feel a bit self-conscious. But she’d spoken with the farmer’s wife enough times to consider her an acquaintance. Small talk was easier, as a result.

“And we’re glad to be in the community, and provide solutions in times exactly like these,” the farmer’s wife returned. “How will you be paying?”

Elisabeth reached into her other pocket, the one her keys had not been in. It was the pocket she always kept her wallet it in.

But when she slipped her hand in, her stomach dropped.

Her wallet wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry— this is embarrassing…” Elisabeth felt her cheeks heating into a blush. She knew the farmer and his wife well enough for small talk, but her self-consciousness was kicking in right on schedule. She couldn’t stand making an embarrassment of herself like this, no matter how well she did or didn’t know her audience.

Sometimes she still got self-conscious like this in front of Brad.

“I seem to have forgotten my… wallet.” Elisabeth finished, quietly.

The farmer looked up from his hand of cards. He looked to his wife, and she looked back to him. The glance they shared had a seriousness to it; a weight. Elisabeth couldn’t tell what it was they were communicating, but something was passing between them.

“I can leave the bottle here, run right out, drive home, and get it,” Elisabeth offered.

The wife looked back to her, and her demeanor changed back to the friendliness of a moment before. “There’s no rush. You said you were out of milk because you forgot it when you went shopping this morning. Did you only realize you were out when you were about to pour a glass for yourself?”

Elisabeth nodded. She felt better about her embarrassment, with the farmer’s wife being so nice to her again.

“Then you must be thirsty for milk,” the wife said. “Why don’t you have a nice drink of milk before you go?”

That sounded great to Elisabeth. She really had been craving milk when she’d gone to the fridge and found it wasn’t there. And seeing the nice, creamy white milk in the bottle had made her crave it even more.

It was frustrating to think of having to drive the five minutes back home to get her wallet, then the five minutes back here to buy the bottle of milk, and five minutes one more time to be able to open it up and pour herself a glass. This was supposed to be a ten minute errand; it had suddenly become a twenty-five minute one.

But she didn’t have to wait fifteen minutes and three trips for a glass of milk. She could have one right now.

“A glass of milk would be great,” Elisabeth admitted.

The farmer’s wife gave a smiling nod. “Of course it would. Honey, would you—?”

The farmer had already set down his hand of cards, and stepped through the door behind the counter.

“He’ll just be a minute,” the wife said. “He’ll pour you a glass from our excess supply. We keep it in the back. No use opening a bottle that’s meant to be sold for one glass.”

The farmer re-emerged a second later with a big glass full of milk in his hand. He set it on the counter, and Elisabeth picked up and raised it to her lips to take a sip.

It was delicious milk, with a full-bodied flavor. Drinking it now made Elisabeth think that maybe the extra trip to Green Hill Farms might be worth it. The grocery store milk didn’t taste like this, so rich and delicious. She drank it eagerly, her gulps becoming greedy, until the glass was empty.

She set it back on the counter.

“I’ll just… go… now…” But as she said the words, Elisabeth felt a dizziness coming over her. She seemed to be swaying on her feet— her thoughts were becoming foggy, swirling around her head in a cloud of mist.

Her dizziness subsided after a second, but she found she’d forgotten what she was about to do. She’d meant to do… She’d meant to go… somewhere… where?

Instead, she only seemed to be standing in front of the counter and staring out into space. What was she doing that for? That wasn’t typical of her.

For some reason none of it was bothering her. She seemed to feel totally alright about the fact that she’d suddenly forgotten the recent past, and was now only standing and staring. Her mind was too fogged with confusion to have room for fear.

Besides, the cloudy-headed feeling was… almost nice. It was calming, and there was some kind of comfort in it.

As Elisabeth stood there, the wife came around from the counter.

“Check her pockets,” the farmer was saying to the wife. “See if she slipped anything in there while we weren’t looking.”

Elisabeth felt hands rooting around her pockets. “Just a set of keys.”

“Well, maybe she hid it somewhere else,” the farmer said. “Take off her coat. I’ll be damned if I let another shoplifter get away with more of our product. I had two others try the ‘I forgot my wallet’ trick this week alone. They stuff their pockets full of stuff when you’re not looking, bring a decoy product to the front to distract you, run off to ‘get their wallet,’ taking all the things they stashed with them, and they never come back.”

“I wasn’t watching her closely when she came in,” the wife said, with a note of apology in her voice. “She’s been in before— she never stole anything then. I thought she was trustworthy.”

“You never really know a person,” the farmer replied, gruffly.

“Clearly not,” the wife said. She got Elisabeth’s coat off her, and started patting her down. But after a few seconds, she slowed down. “Is it even worth looking for whatever it is she stole? Maybe she hasn’t taken anything this time, but once a thief, always a thief. Like I said, she’s come in before. Maybe she’s been stealing from us all this time— maybe she’ll go on and steal from us again.”

The farmer frowned. “What are you saying, Edna?”

“Well, you and I have a policy for dealing with thieves, if we can catch them. There’s not much we can do when they get away, but we’ve caught her. I say, our policy was made for situations like this.”

The farmer’s frown smoothed out into a look of understanding. “I think you may be right, Edna. The drug I slipped in her drink should last for a few more minutes. Should be long enough to take her around back.”

The wife was nodding eagerly. “Yes, let’s.”

The farmer stood back up from his stool. “Alright. Come along, you,” he said, giving Elisabeth’s foot a kick to startle her out of her staring.

Whatever it was that had her feeling so loopy made it easy to drift after the farmer and his wife. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to do as they told her and follow them out of the shop.

As she followed them across the farm outside, her situation seemed perfectly normal to her. She was following a pair of near strangers onto their farm, doing exactly what they told her, and there was nothing wrong with that that she could see.

They led her across the grass, past the farmhouse, and to the barn. They led her down past pens of cows, through a door at the far end.

On the other side of the door, there were more pens there, but not for cows. They were for women, like her. There were only a few of them; most of the pens were empty.

The farmer and his wife led her all the way down the row, to where all the pens were empty. They opened the last one on the left, and stepped into it.

Elisabeth followed them in.

“Convenient that I already took her coat off,” the farmer’s wife said, as she got to work removing the rest of Elisabeth’s clothes. Elisabeth raised her arms intuitively to help.

The wife stripped her down to naked this way, and turned her around in the pen so she was facing the metal fence. She guided her to lean forwards, with her hands resting on the fence, putting her weight on them.

Then she reached down below the fence to open a box on the other side of it. She withdrew two milkers, with tubes that ran out of sight.

Since Elisabeth was already leaning forward, her small breasts were already pointing down. The farmer’s wife fixed a milker to each nipple. There was a stinging pressure— the milkers itched. Elisabeth wanted to scratch at them, and get them off. But she’d been positioned with her hands on the fence, and she couldn’t seem to move them for the moment.

“Do you have it from here, Edna?” The farmer asked, from behind them.

“Thanks for checking, Frank. I do. You can go back to run the shop for the last few minutes until closing.”

Elisabeth heard the farmer’s footsteps as he walked away. But she barely noticed, because her attention was still on what Edna was doing.

Edna had stepped out of sight, so at the moment, Elisabeth could not see. But the next thing she felt was a hat settling into place on her head. It didn’t feel like an ordinary hat, though. Once it was on, Elisabeth felt a distinct poking feeling boring into her skull from multiple points.

That was weird.

Then Elisabeth heard a whirring behind her— she tried to turn and see, but the farmer’s wife stopped her. Elisabeth went back to holding onto the pen, and staring ahead.

The farmer’s wife have a shove to Elisabeth’s mid back, forcing her breast lower, and further into the milkers. This also angled Elisabeth’s hips up higher.

There was a click audible behind her, and then a whirring noise.

A new sensation came to her, then. A thick dildo was pushing its way into her vagina. It moved with a determination that could only be a mechanical; a machine that had been given a task to do, and would now complete it without issue.

It bottomed out inside her. If Elisabeth had not still been so loopy, she might have gasped from the pain. The dildo hurt. It was too wide for her, and she had not been aroused enough to properly accommodate its entry.

The discomfort was doubled, because the dildo was ridged, and she could feel each ridge inside her distinctly. Her inner walls had clamped down tightly around them, outlining each one.

There was another clicking noise, and Elisabeth felt a similar penetration in her ass. That dildo seemed smaller than the first, but it was no less uncomfortable.

One more click, and then Elisabeth felt her head being tugged backward. She tried to duck it back forwards again, just to see what would happen, but she couldn’t seem to move her head any further forward.

The farmer’s wife stepped around into her view, and Elisabeth looked up to her with wide, droopy eyes.

“The drugs my husband gave you should wear off in the next minute or so. By then it won’t matter, because I’m about to turn on your machine. You wanted to take milk from us— maybe you’ve been stealing milk from us all along. The only way to make that up is to give us milk to make up for it. You’re going to be another one of our cows from now on.”

Elisabeth was still feeling out of it. It didn’t occur to her that there was anything alarming about what the farmer’s wife was saying.

“I’ll explain how, though it really won’t matter in a few minutes,” the wife went on. “We’ve got state of the art technology her. Special, just for our human cows. You’re hooked onto a pair of dildos. They interface with the headpiece you’re wearing. It’s tapped into your brain by now, and it connects back to the machine by a series of cords.”

“When I turn the machine on,” the wife said, walking to the side of the pen, where there was a very obvious switch in the off position, “the dildos will begin fucking you. As they fuck you, the machine will interface with your brain. It will teach your body how to be a cow, and reward it with more pleasure the more cow-like you become. It will eventually erase all traces of your former personality, and humanity, until there’s nothing left but a mindless, horny, milk-giving cow. The machine will also help your body go through its necessary transformation.”

The wife shook her head. “It’s a shame you turned out to be a thief. You seemed like a nice enough girl before. At least you’ll enjoy the process before it erases you.”

The farmer’s wife flicked the switch on the wall, bringing the machine to life.

“Goodbye, Elisabeth,” she said. “Try to get some enjoyment while you can.”

Then she walked back out through the door into the main barn, leaving Elisabeth alone in her pen.

It was around this time Elisabeth finally felt her senses coming back to her. She’d been cloudy-headed and confused for what felt like ages; but now, clarity was returning. She was supposed to go back home and get her wallet to buy the milk—

She looked down at herself. She was gripping a metal fence, leaning forward with her breasts hanging down, hooked into a pair of milkers with tubes hooked on the ends that slipped out of sight. And her hips were thrust up in the air behind her, as she stood. What the hell was this? She wasn’t in the shop anymore. Where was she?

Slowly the events of the past few minutes came back to her— the farmer and his wife had drugged her— they thought she was a thief—

They were going to turn her into a cow!

The realization had come too slowly, though, because it was at this moment that the machine behind her kicked into high gear, and started fucking her.

Elisabeth had forgotten about the dildos inside of her until that moment, but now, they were impossible to ignore. The one stuffed up her pussy was particularly distracting. With every pistoning motion, its ridges rubbed against her inner walls, creating warmth deep inside her.

And it was so far inside her, because the dildo was so long. She’d never had anything plugged so far up inside her. She hadn’t know anything could reach all the way in there.

It was thrusting in and out of her quickly, dragging its ridges painfully against her walls, which clamped down and squeezed for everything they were worth. This only amplified the effect. And somehow, though the stretch was painful, the pain actually enhanced the pleasure that the dildo was stirring her.

The effect of the second dildo was much the same, and the combined effect of the double penetration was really starting to turn her on. She felt herself starting to lubricate on the dildo that was inside her pussy, and lubricate so much that it came dripping out around it, trailing down onto the floor beneath her.

When her lubrication did hit the floor, Elisabeth noticed there was a slight slant to the floor of the pen. If she tucked her neck just a little further she could see— the slant led to a drain back there. Which meant…

They expected her to void her bladder right where she was standing, and stand above her own filth.

She tried to remind herself of something, but the dildos were picking up speed inside of her. She could feel her walls fluttering and clenching on them. She was going to— oh, god, yes, she was going to—

The orgasm that took her was powerful, and she was glad to have the metal bar to hold onto. It shook her entire body and left her trembling.

And at the moment of orgasm, she felt a strange searing pressure in her mind. It reminded her of a flash of white light. There was something blinding about it.

At the same time there was a pressure in her breasts— she looked down at herself again. Could it be— had they just grown an inch bigger?

Having driven her to the point of orgasms, the dildos had temporarily relaxed their thrusting. This gave Elisabeth a few seconds to think. She had really enjoyed that—

Enjoyed that— it jangled something in her memory. Suddenly, she could hear the farmer’s wife, telling her to enjoy the process— before it erased her!

Elisabeth had still been drugged when the farmer’s wife left; she hadn’t remembered her exact words until that moment. But now she realized her situation.

The machine was using her body to create a feedback loop. It would pleasure her to orgasm— then the orgasm signalled to the headpiece, which was tapped into her brain, to delete something. And then when that something was deleted, it triggered growth in her breasts.

Then the whole cycle started over again.

That was what that searing pressure had been, in her head. Oh god! What had the headpiece just deleted from her mind?

Elisabeth scanned her mind for some trace. She ran through the multiplications in her head— still there— then world geography— still there— then her name.

Elisabeth Stevens.

Elisabeth [middle name] Stevens.

Wait, that wasn’t right! She knew her middle name, of course she did— it was… it was… it was right on the tip of her tongue. She was Elisabeth… Elisabeth…

No, the name was gone. The machine had just deleted part of her name from out of her head.

And it was picking up speed again. Elisabeth was still sensitive from the orgasm she’d just had, so this time it was even more painful to be fucked. But just like before, the pain caused by the fucking actually enhanced her pleasure. It ached in just the perfect way… the way that was turning her on again, making her toes curl against the floor of the pen…

Elisabeth shook her head violently. No. She had to fight it. She couldn’t let the machine force her to orgasm again. Who knew what it would delete from her brain this time? And who knew how much larger it would force her breasts to grow.

She had a feeling that first orgasm had only been a test run to establish a frame of reference. She was badly afraid that the effect after the second time through would be much more exaggerated.

The dildos kept plunging into her, and dragging back out. Elisabeth gripped her bar tight enough to turn her knuckles white. She bit down on her lip. She wasn’t going to come. She wasn’t.

The machine seemed to sense the resistance in her. And for a moment, she hoped she would be able to hold out. It accelerated its pace, but she managed not to give in to her orgasm.

She smiled to herself. She had outsmarted it. It could keep fucking her like this forever, but it would never achieve its goal. The next step in the process would never come to pass.

But after a minutes of unsuccessfully fucking her, the machine changed tactics. Instead of plunging straight in, it combined its plunging with a deep rotating swivel, twisting its ridges along her inner walls in a complete rotation before withdrawing again.

“Oh no,” Elisabeth whispered fearfully to itself. She’d only needed to feel that sensation once to know she was in big trouble.

It was as if the machine had read her mind— maybe it had, since it was hooked into her headpiece. The moment before the next plunge felt distinctly predatory, as if the machine somehow knew it had found her weak-point.

The next thrust came— there was no thought— She had no time to think before—

“OH GOD!” She screamed, as if it had been ripped out of her. The dildo didn’t even have time to complete its rotation before she was orgasming on it violently.

The machine shifted tactics immediately, not bothering to finish the rotation and withdraw. Instead, it switched back to pistoning her while she was already in mid-orgasm.

“No, no, NO!” She cried, because she understood what was happening. She was still orgasming from that second swivelling plunge, but now that the machine was fucking her so hard, it was driving her on to an immediate consecutive orgasm.

“Oh, no!” But it was too late. She was coming again— a second time, and the machine was showing no signs of showing down.

“No!” She shouted again, but the machine didn’t hear her. She tried, really tried to get control of herself again. She didn’t want to come again. She didn’t want to be a cow; she didn’t want to be a mindless milk producer. She was human— She was Elisabeth! She wanted to stay that way.

But she was coming a third time— a fourth, right after that.

The pleasure was incredible, but she hated it— she wanted it to stop.

She’d been so caught in the sensation she hadn’t noticed its consequences. Her breasts had enlarged comically through her string of successive orgasms. They were about the size of watermelons now— much too large for her thin frame.

She would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so disturbing.

At last the thrusting relaxed to a slower pace for a moment; there was room for some damage assessment.

She tried the things she had checked before. The multiplication tables? Basic world geography?

Her last name?

They weren’t there anymore. How had so much been wiped out so quickly?

Had she come more than four times? Or did the intensity of the orgasm spur the process on?

She was afraid of what she would lose next.

There was a shaking in her breasts, and she looked back to them. Oh, she wanted to hide her face in shame— they were not just larger, but now, they were large enough to produce milk. And the milkers were kicking into gear.

She could feel them, dragging on her nipples, squeezing and forcing them to express.

To her horror, this only turned her on more. Oh, god, it made her horny to be milked— the milkers showed no signs of slowing down either.

Soon, she could streams of white fluid leaving her breasts to run down the tubes and out of sight beneath the floor.

The milkers seemed to work in unison, forcing the milk to leave her breasts in a constant stream.

Was that… so wrong? Wasn’t she a cow? If she liked the way being milked felt…

She shook her head again. She wasn’t a cow. She was Elisabeth. She still had her first name at least—

But the machine had responded to the arousal the milking triggered in her. It had slowed its pace to fuck to the rhythm of the milker, and the orgasm it drew from her this time felt more like it was coaxed out of her than forced out.

She did not cry out in pleasure this time, but let out a long moan of ecstasy. This orgasm may have been the most dangerous of them all— because the machine was using a slower pace, and rocking her slowly, it was a long orgasm. Not a flash of light, but a low simmer that didn’t fade.

She could physically feel the information streaming out of her head, but she didn’t mind it… maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to be mindless… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be a cow.

The machine was still fucking her. The orgasm was still going on. With each thrust, her breasts grew a little more, though by now they had to be close to their final size. And with each thrust, her nipples were pushed more deeply into the grip of the milkers, only egging her pleasure on further.

She was so full and hazy with lust it took her some minutes to realize that all that time had passed without her thinking one thought. She hadn’t stopped coming, either. The machine was keeping her at the point of orgasm, extended it indefinitely.

She noticed, dimly, when something descended from the ceiling. It stamped her right udder with a collection of black lines— then stamped presumably the same thing on her backside. She’d known the name of those black lines once. A bar… something.

She realized dimly this might be her last chance to fight. She gave up trying to remember the word she’d been searching for. Instead, she made a half-hearted effort to remember her first name.

For a moment, she thought it had maybe started with an ‘e.’ Then the concept of ‘e’s was lost to her.

Cows didn’t know what letters were. Cows didn’t need to know. They only needed to give milk, and get fucked.

The cow in the pen stared ahead with vacant eyes. Her mind was blissfully empty, free of all thought and awareness as she did just that.