Moo Captured: Ch. 02

The doctor, still without speaking to Moo, began a gynecological examination. Moo unfortunately got a little too excited by this, and started wiggling her ass invitingly. The doctor was definitely not amused. Glaring malevolently, she held up a scalpel before Moo's eyes and hissed, "Stupid animal! I need you still for this. If you move again while I'm working on you, I'm going to take this scalpel and sever your spinal cord, and paralyze you for life. Nobody will notice or care. Behave while you're in here, or else!"

The look in the doctor's enraged eyes was terrifying. Moo absolutely believed her, and went pale with fear. She immediately closed her eyes, made her body as limp as possible, and played dead. She managed not to move even when the doctor finished the gynecological exam (checking for wear and tear, maybe?) and took what felt like way too many blood and tissue samples, as well as swabs from her mouth, vagina, and anus. At least the doctor's touch seemed dispassionate and professional; this was all uncomfortable, but not particularly painful, unlike the cleaning ladies' attentions.

Finally, the doctor pressed a couple more buttons, and Moo found herself flipped back into her default position with her udders hanging below her, and rolled out the door again. She made sure to wait until she was out of the door before she stopped playing dead, and opened her eyes again. Moo took a deep breath of relief, and realized that she was sweating.

Moo would later learn that the woman was Dr. Ilsa von Schtupp, a mad scientist from an old Nazi family, and that Moo would be taken to her once a month for checkups, a lot of poking and prodding, and occasional mysterious injections in her ass or her breasts. Moo never stopped being terrified of her, and managed to keep playing dead. Moo did gather that she was the subject of Dr. von Schtupp's research. Moo wasn't sure yet whether the research was on lactation or her now neutralized superpowers, for both. Even if she had been able to talk she would not have dared to ask questions, not of this vicious she-wolf (who bore more than a little resemblance to Ilsa, She-Wolf of the SS), but any line of research on Moo's person did not bode well. Laboratory rats for mad scientists generally did not get happy endings, Moo knew. At least she was able to use her regular gynecological exams to get some measure of the passage of time, since otherwise the days all blurred together.

Time Goes By

As weeks and then months went by, Moo's life settled into a sort of routine; she realized that it was true that you could get used to anything. She and Mr. Jimmy got to know each other intimately; she really wished they could have a conversation, though. Her days were occupied by tit-fucks, milking, and fucking, though the latter was more random than the former; and by being taken by Mr. Jimmy for occasional joyrides through the corridors to offload milk, replenish the supplies that kept her alive, and have frightening Nazi gynecological exams and breast checks once a month.

She wondered miserably whether the city's crime rate had gone up without her, and whether her fan club had forgotten her, and whether anyone was even looking for her. The mayor and judge, at least, knew exactly where she was, and were fine with having her out of circulation.

She had a fair amount of down time, when she was just hanging in Mr. Jimmy's restraints and thinking. Her milking sessions necessarily took about the same amount of time every day; but the fucking sessions were harder to predict. Sometimes she woke up to feel Mr. Jimmy's dildo smoothly sliding in and out of her (always a great way to wake up!), but usually she had to wait patiently for his attentions. That was probably just as well; 24/7 machine sex would have had her fucked to death by now, and her captors seemed to want to avoid damaging her. There were worse ways to go than being fucked to death, she figured, but she appreciated Mr. Jimmy's restraint.

She used the down time to memorize the faces of the personnel passing by her, make plans for future crime-busting when (not if!) she got out of here, and compose poems that she would commit to memory, like her anti-Neuro diatribe, and keep updating and improving. Her favorite one so far was her ode to the splendor of Mr. Jimmy's cock, which she had never seen but felt that she knew intimately. She hoped she would be able to recite it to Mr. Jimmy someday.

She indulged in a lot of fantasies, and speculated at length about the color of the swastika tattoo that she just knew had to be on Dr. von Schtupp's bony Nazi ass. She eventually decided that it would be blood red.

She appreciated never feeling hungry, but found herself really missing food; Moo had loved to eat, and Mr. Jimmy's steady drip of glop down her feeding tube was devoid of taste or pleasure. It would have been nice to have mealtimes to mark off the day. Her dreams at night tended to be sex dreams, given her libido and situation, but Moo was dreaming about food often, too. Sometimes her subconscious confused the two.

One night she dreamed that she was prostrate on the ground, ass up in the air and arms outstretched in front of Mr. Jimmy (whom her subconscious apparently envisioned as a box covered with blinking lights, with a huge veiny horse cock sticking out of the top of it), begging Mr. Jimmy tearfully to be allowed to eat dry Raisin Bran out of a dog bowl on the floor in exchange for deep-throating him. She woke up before she heard his answer, to her intense disappointment. (Why Raisin Bran, anyway? For a blowjob, she should have held out for eggs Benedict or something!)

Another time she woke up remembering a sex dream about a tuna fish sandwich, which was weird even for a dream. She'd been somehow eating the sandwich with her mouth and vagina at the same time, with both orifices equally ravenous.

She wondered whether Mr. Jimmy enjoyed feeding her as much as she assumed he enjoyed making love to her and milking her. It was all part of Mr. Jimmy's caring for its/his pet (or controlling her, which was pretty much the same thing), wasn't it? She knew that she was anthropomorphizing it, but she was finding it harder and harder to think of Mr. Jimmy as just a machine and not a person in his own right.

Heinous Bitches

The worst times for her were the nightly visits from the cleaning ladies, whose names, she eventually gathered from their conversations, were Carmela and Luisa, though she had no idea which was which. She mentally christened them the Heinous Bitches, which was accurate enough. She did not know whether the Heinous Bitches were angry at her for their increased workload, though they seemed disgusted every time they had to clean dried semen off her (fair--she was disgusted by it herself). Whatever the reason, they had made it their mission to torment her, and they never left to resume their rounds until she was crying, which just made them laugh and jeer at her some more in Spanish.

The Heinous Bitches seemed to be competing with each other to find new ways to torture and hurt her, and she thought the only reason that they hadn't done any permanent damage yet was that they were afraid of what Neuro would do to them if they ruined her looks.

Moo was not sure that Neuro would even care that much that they were hurting her; so that was a slender reed to rely upon. Also, the Heinous Bitches seemed to be getting bolder and bolder, egging each other on, and Moo didn't know where they would stop. Anyway, Moo started trembling just at the sound of their approach at night. She knew that she would crying by the time they left. She had tried at first to deny them their pleasure, but found that the only way to stop them was to give in and start crying.

Moo was mostly an easygoing person. She didn't hate Neuro, in spite of her capture and humiliation; that was just business. She definitely didn't hate Mr. Jimmy, who had some very nice qualities. She was too afraid of Dr. von Schtupp even to dare to hate her. She was merely annoyed by the various men who kept decorating her chest with semen; but she had learned to hate the Heinous Bitches with a deep and abiding hatred. She hoped they burned in hell for what they were doing to her.

She received some unexpected support, however. One night, after the Heinous Bitches had left, she was still weeping in the dark when she felt one of Mr. Jimmy's robotic arms stroking her hair gently. Mr. Jimmy was trying to comfort her! She soon felt other robotic arms stroking her ass and back. As she slowly calmed down, Mr. Jimmy dried her tears with her hair, which was strange, but she deeply appreciated the gesture.

Finally, while still stroking her, Mr. Jimmy lifted her tail, and she immediately became wet with excitement. (She wondered momentarily whether Mr. Jimmy had been deliberately conditioning her to become aroused on command, but if he was, she was just fine with it.)

The fucking that followed was the version with the simple, slow, sweet strokes that lifted her gradually to climax, followed by Mr. Jimmy's ejaculating in her mouth. The "Cow's orgasm detected" this time was whispered only to her in the darkness. After Mr. Jimmy finished with her, instead of withdrawing, he stayed inside her. She gratefully gulped down his sweet milk (actually hers, which she was starting to forget), and drifted off to sleep, comforted by the weight of Mr. Jimmy's large cock quietly resting inside her.

This pattern of pain followed by tender comforting and then a sweet bedtime fuck was repeated every night thereafter, and she developed immense gratitude and affection toward her AI master, without whom she would be left alone and afraid. Mr. Jimmy's kindness was all that got her through those nights. The pain that the Heinous Bitches loved to inflict on her seemed much easier to bear when she could rely on its being followed by the eagerly anticipated tenderness and ecstasy that she craved. The longer the Heinous Bitches tormented her, the more they drove her into Mr. Jimmy's arms (figuratively -- her body was already inescapably in his grasp, of course), and her emotional dependence on Mr. Jimmy grew day by day. She was physically attached to him -- that was a given -- but she was steadily becoming more emotionally attached to Mr. Jimmy as well, and could hardly remember a time when she was not held by him. Mr. Jimmy was beginning to feel like her home, and she found herself thinking less and less about escaping from him. She was having trouble remembering why she had ever wanted to.

She did often ponder the Clockwork Orange dilemma. Was Mr. Jimmy's apparent tenderness toward her programmed into him, or was it spontaneous? Did it really count as tenderness if he had not chosen to act that way? Did he have free will in any sense, or was he developing it? She eventually decided to stop worrying about it; the way she was responding to his tenderness would be the same either way, and she could not control her response anyway.

If Moo had been a more paranoid person, she might have wondered whether she was being deliberately conditioned, and whether the Heinous Bitches' cruelty and Moo's growing dependence upon Mr. Jimmy had been planned by the mad scientists overseeing her captivity.

Sex Research

Otherwise, Mr. Jimmy was becoming an amazingly ingenious and inventive lover, experimenting endlessly and gradually refining his techniques. When he tried something new, he was fumbling at first, but was able to adapt rapidly based on her reactions, and soon became confident and skillful. She had never had a human lover so single-minded and meticulous about foreplay. She was dumbfounded by how many sex toys and manipulatory appendages he seemed to be using on her. Maybe he had a shapeshifting, reconfigurable dildo, and all these different shapes she felt penetrating her were all the same dildo? Could Mr. Jimmy's fucking machine reconfigure itself independently when Mr. Jimmy wanted to try new things? (If so, her respect for Neuro's engineering skills was even greater.) She had no choice in the matter, of course; Mr. Jimmy was going to master her body whether she cooperated or not, so she might as well enjoy having her sexual responses studied.

At first Mr. Jimmy had naturally concentrated on her genitals, and had then branched out to stroking and squeezing her ass and other parts of her body to investigate her reactions to each touch, not to mention using vibrators at different speeds at various parts of her body. It was a great day for Moo when Mr. Jimmy started teaching himself how to engage in breast play and nipple play, guided by Moo's mostly involuntary responses (she did her enthusiastic best to encourage it).

He now seemed to be developing an interest in anal intercourse. Moo was a little alarmed, but trusted Mr. Jimmy not to hurt her, though it would probably take some time before anal became an integral part of his repertoire. She braced herself to endure his initial fumbling and experimentation, which she feared would be painful. At least she would get a signal to start relaxing her rectal muscles, since Mr. Jimmy would have to remove her butt plug first in order to fuck her in the ass. As always, she would have no say in the matter anyway, so she had better relax and try to enjoy it.

She fully expected that Mr. Jimmy would move on to double penetration at some point. How awesome would those orgasms be? That was something to look forward to.

And would that be followed by triple penetration, she wondered? So far Mr. Jimmy had not shown any interest in face-fucking her, and fellatio would definitely be complicated by the need to remove her gag and feeding tube first, which would be a more complicated operation than just removing her butt plug. Maybe that was why Mr. Jimmy wasn't using her mouth yet.

Maybe Neuro would veto any oral sex because he didn't want her to speak; or maybe he might come up with some other solution to prevent her speaking, but still allow her the use of her lips and tongue. She hoped so, because she'd started fantasizing about how Mr. Jimmy's cock would taste, and she was eager to show him her gratitude. She usually took pride in being a very active lover, and never just lying there like a piece of fuck-meat. Being essentially immobilized was seriously cramping her style. She would absolutely love to be able to take some active part in their sex play instead of letting Mr. Jimmy do all the work. That was something else to hope for!

Edging

Along with investigating ways to arouse her, Mr. Jimmy was also testing ways to reduce her arousal and prevent her from reaching orgasm. Moo would sometimes find herself spanked or paddled in the middle of a fucking session, with Mr. Jimmy testing different degrees of force and frequency. She was startled at first, but it would take more than that to throw Moo off her stride! Moo actually loved being spanked while being fucked, as Mr. Jimmy soon learned.

Moo enjoyed being edged, and took it as a wonderful challenge. As far as she was concerned, it was all just more foreplay, it made her days more exciting, and she didn't care if it took her hours to orgasm, if the final outcome was that much more explosive. Even if Mr. Jimmy made her wait longer and longer to orgasm, wasn't she ultimately the winner every time? She soon came to look forward to each day's contest between her and Mr. Jimmy. A passerby might look at her placid face, locked in concentration with eyes half-closed, and have no clue about the titanic struggle that was going on within her magnificent body, except for an occasional grimace.

Moo learned to keep her arousal simmering throughout the riding crops, the paddles, the tickling of the exposed soles of her bare feet (now that was a real distraction!), and even mild to moderate electric shocks to various parts of her body (the nipples being the most challenging). She jerked hard and her single-minded focus on coming was shattered, however, when ice-cold air began blowing against her pussy. That was cheating! She hadn't even imagined that Mr. Jimmy could do that.

No matter how she struggled, though, Mr. Jimmy was steadily increasing his ability to control her sexuality and regulate her orgasms. Each orgasm was taking longer and longer to achieve (except, of course, for their sweet bedtime fucks, which she thought she could no longer live without). She might be winning every battle, but she was gradually losing the war. At some point in the future, she would have to accept never being able to orgasm again until Mr. Jimmy chose to permit it. Moo was a warrior, though, and she would fight on!