A Cow Named Alice Pt. 02

Alice's rest was dreamless, and opening her eyes, it felt like no time had passed whatsoever. She was certain that she was much more lucid than before she knocked out. None of the rampant thoughts about giving in and becoming a cow. She was determined to escape today. Looking around the room, the first thing she noticed was that the trough was gone. Momentarily scared that the abductor was present, she sighed in relief upon seeing that she was alone. A minute bit of security, in spite of everything. She got up on her fours and moved around the room, inspecting everything more thoroughly as she was waking up.

Each step made her tits wobble and dangle. She enjoyed the feeling, and the creeping horniness that came from it was pleasurable. She wanted to resist that for as long as she could though. The static desire for sex would sooner or later turn her brain back into mush, and if she was to have any chance of getting out, now was her time. Looking back to the holes in the wall in the corner, she tried to pry them open, but had no luck.

Alice pondered why they were kept there if she was only locked in them once. Her only restraint now was a slack rope which came from the wall by the door. She moved back to her old restraints and tried to unclasp them from their roots underneath the floor, but had no luck. Moving herself to the back wall of the room, she realized that the lock on the door was just, scarcely above where she would be able to reach while on her fours.

Perhaps the camera wouldn't see her at that angle? Alice reached a tentative hand up and was met by a painful tug at the collar on her neck. As she bowed herself back onto her hands and knees, though, the rope didn't stop tugging. The thing pulled her back, almost causing her to flip over, until she was right in front of it. She tried to resist it, throwing herself against it, but that force only made her gag as the rope restrained her even tighter. A loud thud from above told her that her captor knew of this attempt to escape.

The footsteps thumped down those stairs beyond the room, and around the halls. Alice was stuck, her head against the wall, unable to so much as barely move herself off of it.

The door opened, and the familiar face of the captor looked down at her. He tutted, and said simply, "Of course she's antsy. First thing in the morning, cows need to be milked."

The matter-of-fact tone let her know that he wasn't talking to her, so much as he was talking about her. She snapped back at him, "Hey, fucko, I'm not a..." He glared down at her and the rope gave a quick, harsh tug. Alice was nearly slammed into the wall, but caught herself and noticed that he held some sort of remote in his pocket.

"Now that's funny, I swear I heard that cow talking." He bent down on a knee, flicking the remote out, grinning, and asked, "Here girl, what's going on? You scared, you anxious? It's your first day here. First day of the rest of your life."

She breathed hard and took her chance. She lunged forward to grab the remote. Her fingers barely touched it before he pushed some button on it and she was held hard against the wall. He frowned and got up.

"Bad girl. Bad, bad girl." He tutted again and mused, "Cows are assholes when they need to be milked. Or fucked. Or fed. Needy bitches."

He pulled the riding crop from his belt and smacked it hard against his leather boots. The snap resounded through the room.

"Now. Girl. Do cows talk?" Alice stared angrily at him, trying to vocalize, but the tight rope at her neck made any speech difficult. She started to say, "I am not a cow," but was greeted by a strike from the crop at the bottom of her ribcage.

"Silly thing." Two more in quick succession, then more and more. Each time they hit her, she felt it ringing across her body. She felt a bizarre mix of hatred, shame, pleasure, and pain. Her tits jiggled with each strike, and the creeping image of what she must look like made the situation even more shameful to her.

"Bad, little girl. Trying to resist like that." He breathed deeply and instructed her once, "Yield, and be rewarded. Resist, and be punished." He levied one final smack against her rump, and continued to speak at her.

"Now, girl, let's get you to your restraints so you may be milked properly." He reached down for the neck restraint and disconnected it from the wall. Alice was weary from the punishment she'd just been given, and couldn't muster enough to resist.

"Good, good good girl." Her captor gingerly guided her back to the leg restraints, and said simply, "Go on."

Alice slid her legs in, and felt them tighten again. It was almost comforting, truly. The captor snapped the neck restraint into some unseen lock above her, and walked out of the room. She looked behind her, nervous that she had been abandoned in her old restraints, taken further from freedom. He came back moments later with a large duffel bag, setting it down by the door before grabbing a few more implements from outside the room.

Alice took a deep sigh and tried to use this time to dwell and think on what had gotten her here. What had happened that night that spiraled out of control into this.

While she tried to recall, the abductor started to set everything up around Alice. He started by pulling her back up onto her knees, allowing her, for the first time in over a day, to hold her head up above her body. It was a strange feeling, and Alice watched as the man setup the contraption beneath her. The first item was a brace to hold her body up. Wood and metal and soft cushy fabric in the shape of a sort of stockade. There were leather straps to hold her wrists and head down, all adjustable for whoever was put in them. The man held her wrist against it, and measured out how far he would need to stretch her, ratcheting the straps into position.

The device was medieval, with two distinct design themes dancing around each other. One, an almost Victorian, high-class aesthetic, shown in the finery of the wood, the craftwork on the metal struts, and the soft cushion on it. The other, more vulgar, designed to look suitable only for cattle: a farmhand's leather straps and cow-print on the cushion.

Once it was adjusted to her proportions, the man stood up, and inserted a few bolts into the floorboard, locking the device down. He walked back to the door and returned with a second block, this one to hold up her midsection. A similar process of analyzing Alice's dimensions, making slight adjustments, and finally sealing it into the ground, and he was onto the final piece of work to be added to her prison: an unknown device situated behind her.

Alice took a deep sigh while he worked, realizing that her bare ass was on full display to him. There was no sense of privacy whatsoever here, but the effect of a human's gaze on you, when you're so undeniably vulnerable, it got to Alice. The part of her that wanted out screamed for her to tear at her restraints and bolt out while the door was open. She could do it, she was sure. But the majority of her, despite her best intuitions, told her that there was some fleeting thing she'd forgotten. It told her that she wanted what was coming next, that it was exactly what she'd bargained for, and that she should bend forward, get into her restraints, and let her tits, ass, and pussy hang free on full display.

Alice resisted both and tried to recall precisely what had transpired. Thus far, she was able to remember a few (apparently very important) words, names, bouncing around in her mind. Murrow, Dancer, Piety, Farm, Barn, Herd, something in some other language, Harrow, Biltmore, just... what did they mean. She heard them all in his voice, and something was just shy of clicking and making it all make sense to her. If she could just figure out why she had wanted this in particular, this fetishistic imprisoning, she might have an idea as to what made her surrender this far, with no plan of escape.

Just was she considered that, he returned with two more additions to her stockade.

He pulled her head up and reached underneath her. The cold kiss of the metal rims of the milkers made her gasp, juxtaposed with the pre-warmed interior of the things. Two suction cups sealed onto her nipples. She was suspended just above the ground by the two stocks, with her hands held wide. The machine rattled on below her, attached to her dangling tits. The feeling was like two little mouths pulling in rhythmic motions, trying to get as much of her flesh inside as possible. She felt her nipples siphoned in, released, and sucked on again in tandem. It was an intense feeling, enough to make her start panting as it continued. The man rested his hand on her bare ass while the process began. She couldn't look back at him, she could barely get herself to focus on anything at all. Her entire attention span was drawn into her tits. She pulled at her wrist restraints in vain. She couldn't tell if she wanted to tear the things off of her or to join them and massage her breasts. It was extasy, and she barely noticed as the man put another round of injections into her. She bit her lip.

She had only been in the machine for a minute, but was already wet and eager for some attention, any attention. The injections, just as they had the day before, muddled her consciousness. The part of her which resisted, which sought nothing less than her escape, faded into the background. The words on the wall in front of her, "Happy Cows Moo" looked true. It wasn't merely that they felt true, nor that they seemed true, but the appearance of them before her almost tattooed them into her mind. It was a fact, just as much one as the pleasurable feeling of her tits being played with, just as much as how incredibly horny she felt herself getting.

She was warm, eager. Ready. She arched her back a little, almost exposing herself fully. Some faint sense of resistance pushed her back down. She felt a clip around her neck. Another, new collar. Not held to the walls, but in the hands of her captor. The sound of the metal clasp sent her mind back to those words. A safe word. Buried in those, she had told him there was something she would say to stop everything. And he had agreed.

That part of her which resisted exposing her vulva fully desperately sifted through those phrases from before, hoping to get one of them out, even if the memory was false, or if the promise wouldn't be fulfilled.

It hit her, it was Dancer, it was Dancer -- that half of her cheered momentarily at the thought of escape, and she readied herself to shout the magic word.

Yet, as she mustered her voice, all that came out was a pleased, heavy, lusty, "Moooooo," She lowered her back down, and revealed herself fully. The restraint on her neck remained slack, but she suddenly felt warmth and softness as a coarse hand stroked her bare back.

"Goooood Girl." He whispered softly into her ear. Her eyes were glazed and her tongue had trouble staying in her mouth.

He tsked twice. "All that trouble, and you haven't even started producing yet?" The machines repeatedly tugged at her breasts, but nothing came of them. She was eager to impress him, but it wasn't as though she could will her tits into being milky. She bit her lip and shook her ass to attract his attention downwards.

He smiled and said, "Ohhh. She's having a little heat, is she?"

Alice mooed sheepishly, and was gratified with a sharp, but playful smack on her ass.

"Let's make this quick then." He reached down with his bare hand underneath her. His fingers immediately went to work on her. The restraints kept her hips elevated, making it easy for him to maneuver his hand into a perfect position. With one hand he kept her head pulled back, with the other, he massaged her. She grinded into him as best she could. The hormones flowing through her made every sensation feel warmer, softer, and she needed to cum. She needed to cum a thousand times, a million, this feeling had rendered her mind a bottomless pit, and she would not be satisfied until her body could not move anymore.

The man dug three fingers up her, pushing one upwards, while the other two grazed against her front in smooth, curling motions. Coarse as they were, she was wet enough to prevent any real roughness. His thumb pushed under her hood and started rolling her clitoris in circles. He pushed very hard against it, just as eager as she was to get her to orgasm.

Alice felt herself starting to tear up. The chemicals in her tits were working their magic, and she was a happy cow. A cow without milk... yet. But a cow, nonetheless. She mooed again, letting the lowing sound reverberate through her body like a pleasured shiver.

She could feel herself getting closer, and she pushed hard against his fingers. The tandem feeling of her tits being played with, her body restrained in place, and all the while he massaged her inside and out made her moo deep and loud, desperate for him to mount her.

Everything felt deliciously good, and her first orgasm rolled over her, forcing her arms to go limp. But the man didn't stop. He slowed while her body contracted, and allowed his three fingers to escape her.

She was ready for him to fuck her, desperate. She pushed her sweat-coated ass as high as she could get it, and was greeted by a sudden, sharp smack.

Alice moaned, undeterred by the pain. Another, and another, and another. Then more at her back. Her body arched up as he tugged on her neck. Despite it, Alice pushed herself against his legs.

"Animals..." He paused, "But such is life."

He reached forward, gripping her hair, and breathed out into her ear, "Are you a desperate cow?"

Alice's addled mind was ready with one answer, "Moooooo" She smiled as those words escaped her lips. She heard the sound of his zipper coming undone, and gasped as he entered her. His tip had been just as soaked as she was, just as eager to fuck.

She could do little but allow him to guide her body, all of her restrains were tightly locked. Still, she could barely muster a little bit of backwards motion, edging herself along the bottom of his shaft, pushing more of him in. She felt a spare hand reach under her, pinching her clit and rolling it between two fingers. The sensation would have normally been too intense, almost sickeningly so, but she embraced it now, under the influence of the injections. She was ready for him to breed her, to make her full, to complete her metamorphosis into her true, bovine self.

Each thrust got her that little bit closer to orgasmic collapse, and she was ready. Mooing and lowing, she mustered what strength she could into her forearms and slammed herself against him, pulling back and forth in quick, sharp motions. He responded by releasing her neck restraint and gripping her ass tightly, his short fingernails digging into her soft skin. He dragged them across her, leaving four red trails all the way along her leg. He repeated the motion along her back, before letting the hand down and gripping her breast.

The sudden warmth on her tit made her moo again, and her mind went wild. The image of her being taken into some shed, hand milked while her belly swelled outwards with her young washed over her. She could smell the room, with dozens of her herd, all other women-cattle, held and milked in a place where everything was accounted for, controlled, and her needs met.

Alice mooed as the image of paradise flooded her mind, and she came against the captor. She collapsed into the stocks and felt him exit her. Just as she did so, ropes of cum hit her back. She was dizzy from the shattering bliss, but part of her was almost upset he didn't cum in her.

He reached down and removed the cum from her back with a towel, and without another word, exited, leaving her to be milked by the machine. Alice's mind was a spongy mess, but for now, she was pleased and sated. The chemical flows in her chest had seemingly slowed, and where minutes before she had felt endless desire, now she was ready for rest.

The tugging on her chest now registered as both a source of arousal, and a soft, calming sensation. Not dissimilar from cuddle-fucking. She rested on the harnesses and began to drift off.

Unlike the night before, Alice's sleep was populated by vivid dreams. A mix of recollection and pre-perception, she was in the restaurant where she first met her captor. Only, she was walked in on all-fours, nude save for a collar at her neck.

In the dream, so many others, some men, some women, were dressed in their birthday suits as well. She looked down to see how much bigger she had grown. She squealed out a little moo of joy at how jealous the others must have been of her.

The man took her to their same table, and the words coming out of his mouth were complete gibberish to Alice. Powerful, commanding gibberish, but gibberish, nonetheless. She was so distracted by the other nude patrons, and began to crawl over to another, with each step her breasts swung underneath her.

This was another woman, bound to a post, who looked so familiar. She swore she could remember her, but couldn't recall from where. Her master was nowhere to be found, but she happily ate from a cup of grains while her uncovered tits dripped onto the floor. Alice reached out a hand to poke one, after sharing eye contact with the woman. She had nodded, and Alice retracted a finger with a drop of tit milk on it. She inserted the finger into her mouth and felt sheer bliss overtake her.

Memory couldn't capture who this woman was, but flavor informed her that this was the matriarch of the herd. There was no question of it. She had permitted Alice to drink of her. Alice asked with a knowing look whether she could have more, and was permitted with a nod.

Alice slid under the woman, and stared for a moment at the leaking nipple. A droplet fell into her mouth before she could so much as kiss it. The flavor again reminded her that this woman was of her herd, and commanded her thoroughly. It was her pleasurable joy and duty to help this cow drain her tits.

Alice sloppily wrapped her mouth around the tit and began to suckle. A flow of the thin, sweet milk drizzled down her throat, and Alice began to fade from the dream as paradise showed itself to her -- no longer in the restaurant, but enjoying this cow in a field full of others, all cows like her.

There were so many, and the place stretched on forever. The grass was sweet and tasty, there were so many so gravid, including her. Everything was provided for, guaranteed and ensured. And among the cows were cowhands, men and women alike, taking good care of them.

In the last seconds of the dream, Alice could see that this was not merely what could be, but what was to be. She only needed to find her way there, and her place there, and it could all be hers.

Alice awoke to find that a tube had been inserted between her lips. She was still in her restraints, and she quickly realized that she had been drinking whatever had been flowing from the thin little thing. Glaring down at it, the clear plastic revealed that whatever was inside it was white, as little droplets still stuck to the insides. It stretched back down into the machine, revealing an empty bottle. It was marked with a barcode, and she tried to read the faint text while the tip of the tube hung between her lips.

The text, "CHEM 45A"

She spat it out, suddenly much more conscious of her situation, and much more apt to escape. The milkers at her breasts had stopped, and she was no longer so addled by the injections. She pulled up on the wrist restrains, realizing that they were loose, and removed her hands. She couldn't quite reach her tits, but realized that it would be smarter to be careful with those. Even minute sensation there regressed her mind to that pasture, to being a cow.

But now she was armed with a safe-word. "Dancer" that was all she would need to say, and she would be allowed out. Permitted to leave. It wasn't foolproof, but she was confident in it.