Bullying the Cow 02

The following very dark story has themes of non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story not meant as any sort of gender, political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality. If you have issues with such kinks, please do not read.

Bullying the Cow 2/Wheels on the Bus Aftermath 2

Words fail to describe how I feel at the moment. I'm so very excited but also very scared as I walk towards the coffee shop. I'm so nervous that I've been biting my lip for the last half hour, doing a bad job of hiding my emotions.

A part of me feels very stupid for doing this. Super stupid. Moronic. And that's the smart part of me. It tells me that this is dangerous, risky and that I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life. That it's unnecessary and I need to turn around and go home.

But there's another part of me, the one born from between my legs that begs for me to keep going. That it wants to feel those strange sexual feelings again. It wants to live for once in my life. That I may reach heights that very few people have gone.

To calm myself, I tell myself that I can walk away. It's not like I'm about to have sex or anything. I'm just here to talk. That's all. Just talk. Words and air with another person, nothing more.

My name is Jenny and I'm a 20 year old college student. And I'm going to this coffee shop to meet up with a woman named Yesnia. If I'm right, she's one of the few people on the planet that will understand what I've been through. She would have felt the strange sexual emotions I've felt and know how dark and powerful they are.

What happened to me? Well, it was very unbelievable. In fact, the few people I've told online don't believe me. They say that I made it up for attention and such stuff doesn't happen. But it did. Oh, it did.

For a bit of backstory, there were a few girls at my college that loved to bully and harass me. Why? Basically because I have big boobs. Yeah, yeah. I've heard all the jokes. My boobs popped up when I was about 11 and just kept growing.

Then, one fateful day in gym class six months ago, those girls up'ed their game of bullying me. Well I guess the correct term would be that they sexually assaulted me and not just bullied me. Not to go into great detail, but they stripped me and made me act like I was a cow. Right down to moo'ing and getting milked.

It was intense. Super intense. And for some reason I let them do it. I just became super submissive and did whatever they told me to. I even let one of their boyfriends fuck me while they all watched and laughed. Oh, how I will remember that until the day I die. Oh, how it made me orgasm. Gave me orgasms that I can never, ever forget.

They left me on the field, naked, used and abused. Not to mention how they took pictures and video of me. They made me feel less than human, to which I have never been sexually fulfilled like that before.

After they did what they did, I couldn't get it out of my mind. It opened up something inside of me, something dark. It haunted my dreams, even when I wasn't asleep. I found myself reliving what they did, over and over again. Staring at myself naked in the bathroom, shaking and bouncing my breasts as they made me do in front of them.

I wanted more. I wanted to feel it again. I wanted that sexual thrill, which was like the best drug on earth.

The urge got so bad that I tried to provoke those girls into doing more, but they never did. No matter what I did, they would stay clear of me. One of them actually apologized, saying how they were pretty high that day and barely remembered what happened. In short, it meant they were too scared to do anything more to me and just want to forget it happened. In their minds, they weren't going to do a single thing more in hopes I wouldn't go to the cops.

I want more. I want to experience more. Only...I don't know what "more" is. I barely even understand what I'm after. I just know I want it. It's an itch that I can't scratch.

Well...there's a story from a few years ago. It's an urban legend, a story that everyone has heard of, but no one knows who first shared it. It's a story about this nerdy chick called the Valedictorian. She was supposedly a super smart girl that was bullied pretty bad too.

One day there was a group that bullied her super bad. They took it to the max, and sort of broke the girl. She was bullied and sexually assaulted, where it overwhelmed her to the point it broke her mind. After they were finished, she supposedly ran away from home. Ran away to become a sex slave or something.

I'll not bore anyone with the details of how I did it, but I think I found her. The real her. While searching online, I found an article about a woman named Yesnia, who was rescued by the police. She was being kept as a sex slave...for the homeless. Yeah. That blew my mind.

The article reported that they used her as a sex slave for weeks, in which she was raped hundreds of times. But the twist was they stated she could have escaped at any time. That in many cases, she wasn't tied up or anything but left to move about free. She could have literally walked away from them and stopped all the abuse.

The moment I found that article, I started to search for Yesnia. I searched hard too. Being who I am, I was able to find her a lot about her. I discovered that she was a nerdy girl back in high school. I know this because I found plenty of pictures of her, and boy, she was busty too.

I tried hard to find where Yesnia was now, but I was unable. It's like she disappeared. No IG, twitter, facebook, or anything. It's as if after she was found by the cops, she disappeared. The closest thing I could find was a few posts by her family members, asking if anyone had heard from her. That she went to college one day and never came home. But...she did write in a journal that she had been "ripped from her perfect life."

I wanted to talk with Yesnia. I felt a connection with her for some reason. She had been through what I went through. She felt the things I've felt. She felt the dark urges and the wanting from such evil. Only she would be able to help me as she had been through even worse than I have.

So I created fake accounts and posted all over the social medias. In these posts I asked if anyone knew Yesnia. I posted her picture and said what high school and college she went to. On purpose, I left out what happened to her, or what the rumors said.

There were tons of responses, mainly from idiot men saying how they didn't know her but would love to. A few of them knew the stories about her and referenced them as well, which only served to make the perverted comments worse. Made what would be an innocent post completely NSFW.

Then I got a message from someone called "slaveYesnia." It was a brief message, asking why I was looking for Yesnia. Despite it just being a few words, there was something about this message. Something that made me just know it was her.

I was honest in my response, saying I had been through a sexual awakening from a bullying event and was seeking Yesnia in hopes of understanding why I liked it. That it appeared she had been through the same. That I needed help to come to terms with the new and strange sexual feelings I was having.

This person stated that she was indeed Yesnia. She asked what happened to me and wanted to know a lot of details. From there she asked tons of questions, mainly about what I was feeling when they did certain things to me. She also asked a lot of what I wished would have happened, or could still happen. Oddly answering all of this made me understand that it was feeling like an object that turned me on the most. That they were treating me not like a human, but a thing. Or better stated, a cow.

Yesnia wanted to know a lot about me. She made me tell her the story of what happened to me several times for some reason. Not that I really minded. Each time I had to do it made me even more aroused than previous times. Then she made me add in things I wish had happened.

Then Yesnia stated that we could meet. That we could meet in this public coffee shop, which has an outdoor café. She picked the time, the place and the day. And I accepted. That's how I came to be here, standing in front of this coffee shop that's in the midst of downtown.

"You are Jenny?" A man suddenly asks in a stern tone. Jolted out of my thoughts, I turn towards the owner of the voice to see a man standing next to me. Two men actually.

I didn't notice but two men have come from the alley to the right of the coffee shop. Two men who appear to be homeless. Actually, there's no doubt these two guys are homeless. They are rough looking, mix-matched clothing wearing and appear to not have shaved in weeks. Although they look clean, they look haggard and weathered. Like they've been in the sun everyday for a year.

"I'm sorry?" I ask very confused to why this homeless man knows my name. I look at the pair of them, going one to the other, trying to make some sense of this. Why does he know my name? Who are they?

"Come on, Yesnia is waiting," the homeless man states, turning around and beginning to walk off. Hearing him say that name stuns me so all I do is watch the guy. The two men walk away, not even checking to see if I'm walking behind them.

What is going on here?

Do they really know Yesnia? Why isn't she here? I thought she and I were going to have coffee and talk privately. Could she have sent them? Why? Is this some sort of trap? Have I been scammed or catfished? I'm so very confused.

The two homeless guys finally seem to notice that I'm not following. Annoyed, one points this out to the other, and both turn around to head back towards me. The way they do this is rather scary, as they are very aggressive. It's almost like they are coming back to beat the crap out of me.

"Look cow...," the man on the right grunts once he is close enough. He then glares at me with a look of utter contempt, like I'm ruining his life.

"If you want to see Yesnia, you need to come with us. Otherwise go fuck yourself and stop wasting our time," the homeless man continues, gruffly.

The way he says this is if I'm the one that's conned them and not the other way around. That I'm wasting their time.

There's another thing. He called me cow. This realization hits rather hard, especially for a man to say it. Hearing that word said by him takes me back to that fateful day, when I was naked and on my hands and knees, forced to moo for those bitches. It makes me feel small and stupid. Like I'm dumb and stupid because I have a larger chest.

"O-O-Ok," I find myself saying, that weird sexual humiliation coming over me all over again. My entire body fills completely with a strange heat. It makes my nipples become very hard.

My feet start to follow behind them, even if my brain screams for me to stop. My mind tells me that this is wrong. That something is wrong. That I need to get the hell out of here or I'll end up dead. Yet, I follow behind the two men as they walk into the darkened alley.

The two homeless guys don't say anything as they walk down the alley. Not to me, nor to each other. They don't even walk together. One walks slightly behind the others. But both have a gruff, annoyed aura around them. Like they rather be doing anything else than having to come get me.

The lead homeless man suddenly stops. Just stops in the middle of the alley for no reason. Then the other guy stops as well, with both turning to look at me as I continue to walk towards them.

As I walk up to them, I look around the alley. I see there's two openings, one on either side of the alley. The alley ends at the far end where it reveals the other side of the street. Overall, the alley is a pretty big alley with lots of openings on the sides.

"Alright cow. Take off your clothes, put 'em in the trash," the lead homeless man states, pointing at a metal trash can I hadn't notice before.

The way he says this is very causal and calm, like it is a normal statement. He says it so calm that I'm not sure if he's being serious. It would be like telling someone to hop and up and down and wait for aliens to visit but saying it as if it isn't crazy.

"I'm sorry. For a moment it sounded like you telling me to take off my clothes," I tell the guy, showing more backbone than I normally do.

"Look you freak-tittied cow. Either take your fucking clothes off, or get the fuck out of here," the lead homeless man barks very angry. He even points the way we walked into the alley as if showing me the way out. The only thing that gives me a tiny bit of comfort is that the other homeless guy holds his hand out as if grab the guy if he tries to do something.

"If you want to see Yesnia, this is what you have to do. So do it, or quit fucking wasting my time!" the lead homeless man actually yells. His voice is so loud it echoes about the alley, bounding off the brick buildings and repeating. It makes me sure that someone is going to poke their head in to see what's happening.

I blink a few times, not believing what I heard. Oddly enough, being told to remove my clothes isn't what hits the hardest. Being called not just a cow, but a freak-tittied cow is what hits hard. Very hard. It makes a tingle begin between my legs which I don't believe I'm feeling. It's the same type of feeling I felt when the girls started in on me that fateful day. A harsh, unrelenting feeling that begs to get more intense.

As I stand there, feeling rather stupid, I tell myself I have only two choices. One, turn around and get the fuck out of here, as I know I should do. Or two, do as this strange homeless guy says, and take all my clothes off, and put them in a trash can.

Seems rather an easy choice. Then why aren't I running out of here?

There's no way to know that they will take me to Yesnia. Just like there's no way to know he won't kill me in the next five minutes. The only tiny bit of hope I have is that he knows her name and he has called me 'cow.' That means he at least has talked to Yesnia. Only she would know what happened to me.

Standing here, I still don't understand why haven't I left? Why am I standing in front of these two homeless guys? I should be halfway back home by now, safe and alive. Every moment here is a moment I may die some horrible end. So why can't I turn and leave?

I know the answer to my question, I just don't want to admit it. I want to meet Yesnia. Something about her seems magical. Like she knows exactly what I'm after. She understands the weird, dark kink that I'm seeking. Only she can help me deal with it and direct me on what to do. If I walk away, I fear I'll never even get a message from her again. That she'll cut me off, leaving me like a fish out of water. I want Yesnia. I need Yesnia.

"Damn it," I curse, knowing I'm being stupid, dumb, idiotic, moronic, careless, and foolish. At that, I grab the bottom of my t-shirt and lift it up. When I do, I feel my eyes watering up. I'm so incredibly mad with myself.

The moment I do this, I expect the two men to start to cheer or at least smile, but they don't. They still both look annoyed, not even caring that a woman is about to remove her clothes in front of them. In fact, they barely even look at me, making it seem like they don't want to see any part of me. One of them is tapping his foot like I'm going too slow. It is clearly the opposite of what I thought would happen.

I lift my shirt up and over my head, exposing my black bra to the two homeless men. My long hair is pulled out of the shirt hole, leaving the shirt in my hands now. There I ball it up and use it to fidget with.

The air blows on my exposed skin, making me feel so incredibly naked, even if I'm not. I've never been this exposed before in public, now that I think about it. I don't even wear a bikini when I go swimming. So being in just my bra is quite...embarrassing.

Upset with myself, I underhand throw my shirt in the metal trashcan, where it disappears into its blackness. That trashcan seems like a black hole, where anything you put in it disappears, forever. It makes me know that I'll never ever see my shirt again.

Now I remove my shoes, as I am going to pull down my jeans next. I hate to admit it, but the two men not wanting to see me naked makes me feel, well, even more aroused. I can't even explain why this is. It makes me feel like an object or something. That they don't want to see basic goods that most men love to see. It serves to make me drown myself in a pool of my own arousal and submission, where I can't believe I'm enjoying what I'm doing.

Each of my shoes goes into the trashcan, where they make a clanking sound. Then I throw my socks into the trash can as well to become barefoot. I feel the concrete under my feet, making me feel very strange. It makes the strangeness of the scene get amplified.

I then unbutton my jeans and slide them down, exposing my black panties to the men, as well as my bare legs. I'm unable to look at the two men as I do this thanks to how stupid I feel. But in the glance I get, I notice they aren't even looking at me. They both look in a different direction, again making me feel like I'm taking too long. I guess they aren't even wondering if I put this bra and panties combo together just for Yesnia, as if wanting to have her see me like this.

In a daze, I slide my pants down until they are at my ankles. Once they are, I slowly try to pull my feet out of each hole. It takes only moments before I've removed my pants completely. I then underhand toss my pants into the trashcan, where they too disappear into the blackness.

For a moment, I stare at the trash can as if it's going to throw all my clothes back at me for some reason. Feeling even more foolish now, I debate if I need to keep going. Or if this is good enough for them. They clearly don't act like they want to see more.

"Come on cow, we haven't got all day," the lead homeless guy grunts, revealing that yes, I'm to go all the way. I'm supposed to remove every single piece of clothing I have.

At this I make a comment under my breath about what part of the human body the man most resembles, but I do grab the waistband of my panties and pull them down. I don't know, but it feels like there's no point in drawing this out any more. That I should just expose myself as I'm told so we can move forward.

My bare womanhood is exposed as my panties reach my ankles, not that these two care. They aren't even looking in my direction as the lead guy asks the other some question. The two keep talking, even when I remove and toss my panties into the trash. Not so much of a comment about how shaved I am.

Finally I reach behind me and my fingers find my bra clasp. As it clearly doesn't matter to these two, I don't try to be sexy in any way as I roughly unclasp my bra. My fingers feel more like they snap the clasp open, allowing the bra to practically fall off my shoulders and arms, exposing my udders, I mean breasts.

My overly large tits are now fully exposed as my bra hits the ground. For a moment I stand there, realizing that I am completely naked.

And after picking up my bra and throwing it in the trash, I feel more like a cow then ever, which is so damn strange. I feel more like a cow now than when the girls made me "moo." In fact, I feel more, well, pathetic and stupid now than with them as well. Like this situation if far more intense for some reason, even if it just two men not looking at me while naked.

Clutching my naked body with my arms, I stand there shivering as if just coming out of a cold shower. Again, the two men don't seem impressed at all. They just seem a bit less upset now that I've done as they wanted. They don't even check the trash to make sure all my clothes are in it.