Cream This Thick Ch. 07

Cream This Thick Chapter 7: The Final Line

By Trixie Adara

It was a perfect day to become your own boss — your own domme — and create your first personal cow submissive. That was the plan as Michelle walked into work for the last time. She didn't think she'd find her spine in the arms of her first lesbian lover, but Michelle couldn't be surprised. Not anymore. This year had looked nothing like any other year of her life, and though it was rough at first, she found herself finally reaching the top of that hill. All she had to do was face one of the most terrifying women she'd ever met and tell her she was quitting, then make sure that Bella was nice and pushed along in her helpless addiction to Milk and —

The office was in some kind of quiet panic. Michelle hadn't noticed at first — she was too lost in her own world — but it was obvious to anyone who had been working here for a year that someone important was coming. Based on the dread in the executive's faces as they paced back and forth between each other's offices, it was someone really important. Michelle rose up on tiptoes and almost teetered over and fell down, forgetting she was wearing power stilettos to try and up her 'boss bitch' mood. She caught herself and grabbed a neurotic looking secretary by the arm.

"Who's coming?" she said.

"Mr. Thatcher," the frantic woman said. "Any minute."

Michelle froze. She had been working at Thatcher Dynamics long enough to know that Adam Thatcher rarely visited his own company. He attended board meetings by video chat and gave press conferences from the beach of his tiny island. More than being aloof and wealthy enough to be insane, he hated people. He hated traveling. He hated being anywhere but his island where he could control everything. He'd been running the company virtually for ten years.

"Hey!" The secretary said as she wrenched her arm from Michelle's tight grip. "I gotta go."

Michelle nodded, but the tiny woman was gone. Months ago, Michelle would have been in the same frenzied state. Mr. Thatcher could, of course, fire any of them for looking funny, smelling bad, or choking too loudly. That was threat enough when dealing with an egotistical and wealthy agoraphobe. But on days like these, the executives would snap first. She'd seen one man literally beat a male underling who made black and white copies instead of colored copies.

Beat.

All her plans for the day died in that moment. Her first instinct was to find Mrs. Wasserman and see if she needed anything. But the door to her boss's office was locked, and Bella was sitting in Michelle's cubicle, frantically typing something up with another secretary sitting over her shoulder and watching her.

"Where's Mrs. Wasserman?" Michelle asked as she approached the two women.

"You have an appointment?" Bella said without looking up from the computer.

"Bella, where is she?"

The curvy Italian woman looked up at Michelle. Her usual flawless olive complexion was blotchy, and it looked like she was wearing yesterday's makeup. And yesterday's clothes. Her curly hair was in a tight ponytail, but the curls were barely tamed.

"Oh. You. She's uh ..." Bella's mouth stopped moving as she froze. A vacant expression claimed her as her jaw slackened, but her eyes were roaming over Michelle's body, trying to process something. Slowly she licked her lips, adding to the more-than-crazy expression.

"Are you alright?" Michelle asked.

"Yeah. Uh." Bella slowly shook her head and looked back at the computer, returning to work. "Headache."

"Nausea?" Michelle asked. "Hunger? Lack of Focus? Strange taste in the mouth?"

Bella looked back at Michelle and stared at her tormentor. It was the Milk; Michelle knew it. Bella must have run out of product and was now dealing with the withdrawal symptoms. On this day of all days, another Milk addict was not going to help Eloise get through Mr. Thatcher's visit. But before Michelle could say anything, Bella turned to the secretary still hanging over her shoulder and said, "Go see if Mr. Santiago needs anything. I need Michelle's help with this."

The other secretary went without complaint, and when she was out of sight, Bella's eyes narrowed as she said, "How did you know that?"

"Did you run out of Milk?"

Bella's eyes widened. "You fucking did this to me?"

Michelle took a deep breath as she steeled her nerves. This was what she was here to do. Not help Eloise deal with Mr. Thatcher. She was here to quit and make sure her cow was coming along nicely. Bella was a bitch, but she'd soon learn her place when she learned Michelle was her only source of Milk until Bella was helplessly addicted and her breasts grew and started producing.

"Thirsty, little cow?" Michelle asked, hoping her voice had the appropriate level of condescension to melt Bella the way that Eloise always melted her.

Bella stood up. "What the fuck did you just call me?" She marched towards Michelle, but froze at the last moment, her eyes widening as she saw something behind Michelle. "Mrs. Wasserman," she said with all the venom out of her voice. "Do you need anything?"

Michelle turned to see her former boss — no, her current boss — behind her and holding a stack of papers. If Eloise Wasserman was stressed out about Mr. Thatcher's approach, she showed no sign of it. She was in a cream-colored pantsuit with a loser straight leg with a black blouse that was buttoned all the way up. Her dark hair was in a tight bun with two perfectly strands dangling over her ears. She was wearing her reading glasses — thick red rims that matched her lipstick in rectangular frames — that helped complete the Ice Queen look. Eloise looked like she was in perfect control of her stress levels — which she probably was. Michelle should have known better than to suspect she'd be anything but all business today.

"Copies of these," Eloise said as she handed Bella the stack of paper. "Colored," she said.

"Of course," Bella said as she took the stack. "Right away, Mrs. Wasserman." Bella clutched the stack to her chest and marched off to the copier, only pausing once to turn around and give Michelle a death glare.

Michelle didn't waste time though. She followed after Eloise as she headed back to her office. "Mrs. Wasserman," Michelle said. "Can I talk to you for just a minute?"

Eloise paused at her door and turned to face Michelle. "I don't have time today, cow."

"But I can help." Eloise tried to open the door, but Michelle was feeling bold enough to step in front of the door and block it from opening. Eloise pursed her lips, and Michelle's knees softened. Was she going to snap at her? In front of the entire tense office? Then they would all watch and see how Michelle was nothing compared to Eloise, how she was just a stupid cow and Eloise owned her and every ounce of Milk she ever produced and —

No. Michelle was here because she owned herself now. She had crossed the final line; her old life and self were dead, and they had nothing to offer her. Today would be painful, but it was the first necessary step to freedom.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way." The danger in Eloise's voice was back, and tingles ran all over Michelle's body, over her breasts and to her tight nipples that were aching to be Milked. They started to leak as Michelle's mind went soft and —

No. Focus. "I need to talk to you," Michelle said. "It's urgent."

"Later," Eloise said. "Nothing is more urgent than Mr. Thatcher's visit. We will all be under relentless scrutiny, so we need to be on our best —" Eloise furrowed her brow, and something in her softened. She stepped closer to Michelle and lowered her voice. "I know you're worried about losing your job, but we still have time. It will hurt, but it will be good for all of us in the long run. And if —" She looked out at the floor and took a deep breath. "— if anything happens, I'll take care of you. You know that, right?"

The tingles were back, but they weren't over Michelle's body. Nor were they washing over her mind and dumbing her down. These tingles ran over Michelle's chest and deep over her heart as it fluttered at the sudden tenderness from one of her favorite cruel bitches. This wasn't the same warmth that Tatiana made her feel last night. Tatiana made Michelle feel sexy, made her feel desirable, made her understand how someone could want nothing but women for the rest of her life. But this was genuine. This was deeper. This was —

"Now, please move and go help Bella with whatever she needs," Eloise said. Her tone was firmer this time, but that didn't stop Michelle's heart from fluttering in her chest. "We can talk about our exit plan for you tomorrow." She turned the doorknob, and Michelle moved out of her way. "If you get through the day," she said with a shake of her head. It was more to herself than to Michelle, and Eloise said nothing else and waited for no reply before slipping back into her office.

Michelle stood outside of Eloise Wasserman's office and turned to take in your surroundings. The meeting was obviously going to be focused on the conference room where some massive presentation was being prepared, but there were secretaries with cleaning supplies helping the janitorial staff clean every square inch of the office. It was like someone's wicked stepmother was coming into town. Michelle had no idea where to start in being helpful. She hadn't intended to do any of this at all. She was supposed to have her triumphant moment to quit, grab Bella by the throat, and drag her cow out of the dead-end job.

"Copies," Bella said with a pant as she approached with the stack she was given. "I need help."

"You don't know how to make copies?"

"It's jammed."

"Fuck," Michelle said. "Show me." Michelle had become a bit of a part-time copier repair woman in her time here. You'd think a wealthy company like Thatcher Dynamics could afford better copiers, or more copiers, or their own copy technician. But, no. The secretaries figured this out, and Michelle seemed to have a magic touch for the machine. Michelle slipped into the copy room and Bella closed the door behind her. Michelle took a look at the machine but didn't see any error reports. From what she saw, everything was fine and —

"You fucking cunt," Bella hissed. "Did you fucking drug me? Is that what you did?" Michelle turned in time to get a slap to the face from Bella. "With your fucking fifty-dollar milk?"

Michelle tried to find the strength to respond as Eloise would. She should be sarcastic and condescending. She should mock the helpless addict and tease her about how to find more product. But her mind was fuzzy as her nipples leaked from the sudden violence and aggression from the Italian woman.

She almost fucking mooed.

"Is this because of your stupid job? You can keep it. Fuck. Did you know I did time at a facility a few years —" Bella shook her head as tears bubbled up. "Fuck. You have no idea what you've done. You can keep your job." Bella threw the stack of papers at Michelle. Some hit her in the face, and the fuzzy cow brain grew as she went dumb from embarrassment. "I fucking quit. I can't work like —"

Bella froze in a pose either to slap Michelle again or to storm out of the office and never look back. But of course, she wasn't going to do that. Michelle recognized the look on Bella's face. It wasn't just one she'd worn many times before, but she saw it last night on eight beautiful and horny cows.

The look of an addict smelling fresh Milk.

"Is that —" Bella stepped closer. She sniffed and closed her eyes. She shivered as she picked up the scent of the Milk leaking from Michelle's tits. "You have more?" Her eyes opened wide. Her hunger and lust were over the boiling point. "Where?" Her eyes roamed over Michelle's body. She wasn't holding any bottles or bags. There was no place to conceal a bottle of Milk unless —

The door to the copier room opened as another nervous secretary came in with a stack of papers. She took one look around the room at the scattered stack Bella had thrown at Michelle. "What in the actual fuck?" she said. "This room is a disaster zone. You bitches need to clean this up." She stepped in front of Michelle and pushed her away with her hip. "Move. Some of us are working."

But Bella and Michelle were still locked in each other's eyes, sizing each other up. Bella wanted to know where the Milk was, and Michelle needed to figure out how to play this. Should she talk down to her budding cow? Should she reveal the whole game? Offer her a sample? Make her understand where her supply came from?

Bella moved first, grabbing Michelle's hand and pulling her out of the copy room. Michelle followed wordlessly, tripping over and losing her heels as Bella dragged her through the hectic office to the girl's bathroom. There was no one in there, but Bella didn't stop until she had Michelle in a stall. The cold tiles on Michelle's bare feet brought shivers to her as Bella wheeled around and cornered her against the wall.

"Where the fuck is it?" Bella asked. "You reek of it. Where is it?"

Michelle swallowed. She could do this. She knew she could do this. "I thought you didn't want your life destroyed?"

"Fuck you," Bella said. "Where is it?"

"What if I told you that I was your only source of — Hey!" Bella searched Michelle relentlessly, reaching around for any sign of the Milk. Michelle didn't know what the curvy Italian was looking for. A dime bag of Milk? She supposed that was as likely as anything else. Bella looked for pockets or any place someone could hide —

She froze when she reached Michelle's blazer. Michelle wanted to talk, to take control of the situation, but her body was loving Bella's assertiveness, her aggression. Even if it fucked her plans, her pussy and tits didn't seem to mind at all that she was losing control of the situation. It made her heart pound, her mind soften, and her Milk flow.

Bella pulled away the blazer and unbuttoned Michelle's blouse. Neither woman spoke as the heavy moment sat between them. Their breath was ragged and tight, as Bella revealed Michelle's expensive black silk and lace bra. It matched the rest of the lingerie she was wearing under her suit, trying to make her feel powerful for the big confrontation today.

But Michelle didn't feel powerful as Bella didn't hesitate to search her bra for any hidden Milk. Nor did she feel powerful when Bella pulled out a hand coated in Milk and slowly brought it to her own lips. It wasn't powerful to watch Bella moan and have all the fun drinking Milk while Michelle was pinned to a wall and increasingly naked. It didn't make her feel powerful as the carnal lust drove Bella mad and she ripped away Michelle's most expensive bra, revealing swollen tits leaking with Milk. It didn't even make her feel powerful when Bella gasped at the sight of Michelle's tits as though she was beholding the face of god. None of it made her feel powerful.

She felt like a fucking cow.

Bella latched onto Michelle's breast like she was going to devour the older woman. Michelle cried out in pain as Bella was careless with her teeth, eager to get as much Milk down her throat as possible. But Bella was quick to clamp her hand over Michelle's mouth, pushing back against the toilet and then down onto the seat. Bella sank to her knees, never letting her mouth leave Michelle's breast as she suckled and moaned.

"Oh fuck," she said while Milk spilled out of her mouth, over her lips and cheeks, and down her chin. "It's better from the source. So much better warm."

Michelle tried to tell Bella to be gentle, that she was struggling to breathe with the Italian woman's hand clamped over her mouth and nose, but only muffled noises came out. Noises that could just as easily be moans. Noises that could just as easily be moos. But no matter what they were, they weren't escaping. And Bella wasn't stopping.

It was strange for Michelle that this wasn't more arousing. She was a lesbian now, she knew it. She had a beautiful woman's mouth around her nipple. The pressure of the Milk being released. The arousal of being topless and pinned in a dirty bathroom. The potential to be pathetic and submissive. The chance to be needy and weak. It was all here. This should get her off.

But fear gripped her.

It was only as Michelle edged closely to blacking out that she realized she had hands. She pulled Bella's hand off her mouth. "What are you doing?"

She was ready for Bella to try and cover her mouth again, but she wasn't ready for Bella to strike her. The Italian woman was stronger than Michelle had expected — certainly stronger than Michelle. Michelle saw stars as Bella covered her mouth again and got back to work, drinking all of Michelle's milk straight from the source. Free of cost.

No. Michelle was going to be her own boss now. She owned the Milk. She would make Bella beg for it. She would sell it to Vicki at forty dollars a bottle or get her own customers. She would take charge.

Strength surged in Michelle as she pried Bella's hands off her mouth. She tried to stand, but Bella pushed her back down. "Dammit, we can talk about it," Michelle said, not sounding as strong or as firm as she'd like.

Michelle pushed Bella off and stood, but Bella was quick to her feet. She reached out for Michelle's face, but she didn't clamp down her mouth this time. This time she wrapped a hand around Michelle's throat. With a quick knee to the stomach, Michelle dropped back down onto the toilet seat as she was choked.

"I'm not talking with a fucking cow," Bella said when she broke away from the tit for breath. She pinched Michelle's other nipple and sprayed Milk all over her face. She arched her head back and enjoyed the facial while Michelle was running out of air and Milk all at once as Bella took it.

Bella her subordinate.

Bella her trainee.

Bella her replacement.

Bella, stronger and better than her.

Because Bell was a bitch.

And Michelle was a cow.

For a long moment, she thought seriously that she was going to die. That her heart would stop beating, and Bella would keep sucking each drop of Milk from the tits of her corpse. She couldn't win. Bella was stronger. Bella was better. Michelle had no hope of overcoming the woman, and Bella's milk-lust had driven her past the point of any moral understanding. Bella was like a meth addict, too desperate to be reasoned with or stopped. She would break Michelle before she was denied any more Milk.

Then Michelle's fear passed the threshold. She stopped fighting for her life and gave it up. The final line — the real final line — was crossed. For every sub may give up control and dignity, but they cling to life. But not Michelle. Even that was gone now. She was truly and utterly helpless. No longer did she live in metaphor. Bella had overpowered her, and whether she lived or died was entirely in Bella's hands. But there was no fear now. If Michelle died, it was because it was what Bella wanted. And if Michelle wanted to live — and she did — she would have to start making Bella very happy. She would have to submit and serve. She would have to die to herself and accept Bella as the true owner of her life. There was a peace in that, a serenity Michelle had never understood. She didn't need James to get his shit together. She didn't need to get her shit together and be her own boss bitch either. All she had to do was whatever her betters wanted.

So Michelle peeled off Bella's hands one more time.

And mooed.

Bella froze and looked up from her knees — her face and hair soaked with Milk. "What the fuck?" she asked.

Michelle slid off the toilet seat and into Bella's lap. "You wanted a cow?" Michelle said. She wrapped her hands around her nipple and squirted. Milk covered Bella's face and lips, but instead of saying a word, Bella's mouth spread wide as she tried to catch as much Milk as possible.