Peacetime

"You don't have to explain. Just tell me what you want me to do."

"That is not the point. It is what I want you to be. So let me tell you the story. You will recall that the General had prostate problems, and the cancer was beginning to spread, even though it was not likely to kill him for years. The last campaign of his life was going to be to destroy me, mentally, by putting me in my place for dishonoring him with you. It did not have anything really to do with me. It was about him and his ego."

She put her hands on her svelte hips and paced in front of me. There was something about the whiskey that made me feel a warm glow of comfort much faster than the stuff I drank at home. I chalked it up to the fact that it was neat, and room temperature.

"The General had wrapped up his resources, pension and the house in a series of legal trusts and vehicles so that I could not benefit from his death, even though I was his legal wife. He had statements in safe deposit boxes that implicated me in his death, if that happened, and that was his life-insurance policy."

"He would not let me work, he made me sleep on that couch you are sitting on. He thought he had me pinned like a butterfly, and I would never have sex, or a normal relationship again. I would have left him if I could, but I was trapped without access to resources. Unless I could turn it all around on him. All I needed was a plan. Men are such idiots."

"It was easy enough to wrap you around my fingers, just by pulling on your dick. That was not going to work with the General, since his equipment didn't work, but sick as he was, he took a lot of drugs for pain, and to manage the cancer.

"I began to do my homework on that, since there was plenty of time in this silent dead house. I got a copy of Drill's Pharmacology, the best resource a gal could ever find."

I began to study the effect of hypno-tropic drugs. The General was beginning to depend on me, and what I decided I needed to do was re-work his attitude a little. I was going to be the best little helper I could, and make him need me in a way so profound that I could get him to do anything for me. I came up with something that was so powerful that I still can't quite believe it."

"So you drugged him?" I said, my voice tried to frame it as a question but I didn't quite make it.

"Shut up when I am talking. No, not like you think. I don't know if you have ever heard about an adult nursing relationship. It is well known in the literature, and much more common than you would think. Many women enjoy it, since it is profoundly natural, and can create a deep bond between partners. I decided that I would manipulate the General into thinking that my bosom was the source of his comfort and sustenance and joy."

"How did you accomplish that?" I said, astonished at the idea of the General nursing on Vivian like a babe.

She smiled thinly. "That is just a matter of persistence, and constant re-enforcement, and the right dosage of drugs for both of us. First there was something to get him where I wanted him. I settled on the synthetic opioid called fentanyl. It is ten thousand times more potent than morphine. It is used under the trade name of Wildnil as a tranquilizer for large animals, by the way, and that is exactly what I think of the General.

The Pharmacology told me it was inappropriate for use in humans, and it is a controlled substance, but not one that is abused here in America. It is remarkable what you can get on the internet from India.

It is so powerful a drug that a very small amount in his food had a remarkable effect. I would feed him his meals, and he would go into a light trance. While he was under, I began a series of suggestions about my breasts. You guys all have a fixation with them anyway, and at the same time I began taking a mix of estrogen, progesterone and prolactin, and are used routinely to induce lactation in women who have adopted, but still want to nurse their new children.

That is all perfectly legal. The other thing you do is stimulate the nipples. It is as easy as that. So the first thing was to convince him that my boobs were really attractive, which they are, and that he craved the touch of them, then that he wanted to suck on them, and then the idea that he needed to actually nurse from them.

It only took a couple months for me to become a skilled hypno-therapist with the aid of the fentanyl, and I could get him in a light trance without challenging any of the ideas he had about the legal shackles he had on me.

The depth of his trance could be manipulated anyway I wanted, but I was convinced that the most effective way to increase the depth of his conditioning was when he was on my breast.

It worked like a charm. When my milk began to come in, I began to express it in private. I increased the suggestion that he wanted to have sex with me, but in a way that was more intimacy than the actual act. It made me horny as hell, in fact, and the naked need in his face the first time I took off my blouse and let him lay across my lap to lick and suck on me was such a power trip.

I always let him think it was his idea. That was the point.

When you are producing milk, you have to relieve the pressure regularly, and once I got him hooked on me, we had regular sessions, morning, noon and night.

I hated the bastard, but something remarkable began to happen. I began to yearn for those feedings as much as he did. He would literally latch onto my breast and go into a trance. It took two months to winnow out all the secrets he had, though of course I had to work around that he couldn't talk when his mouth was full.

"So what happened once you knew everything he had done?"

Vivian smiled. "Once that was done, it was deeper trances, and paperwork and a trip to a couple banks. I was content enough in the routine that I was in no hurry, and wanted to be thorough. Once I was sure I had everything, it was time to finish up."

"So you killed him?"

"Not in the legal sense." She smiled a thin and scary smile. "First, I weaned him off the opiates, substituting trances and a more aggressive nursing program. He left a convincing note about how he could not bear to be in the world anymore, and how much he loved me, and regretted taking his own life. I watched him die, and it was very rewarding."

I had finished the whiskey in the jar, and it seemed to me that the room was suddenly very warm. Vivian smiled thinly at me, arms crossed below her boobs.

"And I am here because?"

"Because you are unattached. Because you owe me. Because you are not going to be missed, and I can always use what is left of your pension. And because I am still producing milk and I like having a man in my complete power. And I have to let down now. You are not going to be able to walk very well for a while, but your mouth should work just fine."

She began to unbutton her blouse, and slipped it off her shoulders. Her breasts were larger than I remembered, and they were exceptionally beautiful.

She walked over to the couch and sat down next to me. She pressed me down in her lap, my face upward, and raised my head so that I could reach her breast with my mouth.

She tucked a pillow under me so that I was comfortable, and exceptionally relaxed. My lips surrounded her aureole, and I began to suck. I was rewarded with a dribbled of warm sweet milk that became a torrent. Vivian sighed in delight.

"There you go, baby. We are going to have to get you clean, and off the booze and cigarettes. But that is not going to be a problem. I have worked harder ones before."

*********

Mistress has a low bench set up in the garage, which is rarely opened now. She keeps it very clean, and there is a place where she puts my mattress and there is a large bolt with a circular padeye that she can attach the chain to my leash if she needs me to not wander.

She has headphones that attached to a music player that she places on me sometimes, when she gives me some extra medicine and my arms and legs are bound securely.

That does not happen so much as in the beginning, when I first came to stay with Mistress and be her companion. I do not know what the nature of the music might be. I am never awake to actually hear it, or if I am, I do not remember. I know that it makes me happy, and fills me with pride when I see her again. I quiver when she approaches and releases me, and even though I am a little unsteady, I follow closely as I can, respectful, at her heel.

She does my maintenance there, checks my glands, cuts my hair and that sort of thing. She also gives me my shots there, and keeps my medicine in a small refrigerator next to the work bench. I don't know what is in the shots she administers. She told me once that the hypnotic she gives me builds up in the bloodstream, and once I had become accustomed to the dosage it would keep me docile but alert. I love Mistress and trust that I am being good for her.

One day she had me up on the bench. I waited for her patiently in my position, on all fours, to do whatever it was that she needed to do to me. She put her hands between my legs, and I felt her cup my balls. I naturally began to get hard, since I love Mistress and hoped she would sex me.

She reached around and began to stroke my shaft, and it felt soooo good. Since I have been taking the medicine I have not had the urgent need to cum, though sometimes Mistress looked so good that I could not resist putting my nose in her crotch to smell her rich scent. That would annoy her, which makes me sad, since I remember dimly a time when she allowed me to be there in her. I moaned in enjoyment.

She said that she loved me, but not in that way anymore. I whined in delight, anxious that she would not stop. Her hand moved more swiftly, and I could feel the flood building up inside me, rising and almost overcoming me. When I came, I shot spunk down all over the bench and almost collapsed in ecstasy. I love Mistress and it was so special for her to sex me.

She wiped her hand on a towel as I basked in love for her. Then she moved behind me and I felt her pull down on my testicles and scrotum, and I heard a snap, and something tight was twisted up above my balls.

Mistress stroked my head, saying that I was to be a dear and be patient. It was going to be a little painful until the circulation was cut off and the area went numb. Mistress was right, as she always is. The pain faded after a few hours and after a day or two I didn't even notice it.

I almost never get hard anymore, and she says that helps to clarify our relationship. She still has me lick her between her legs, sometimes after she has been out in the evening and there is creamy acrid fluid in her.

This morning, I hopped up on the bed when Mistress gestured for our morning feeding. I crawled across the bed as she lowered her pink gown to expose her engorged breast.

She talks to me as she gives me her bounty. I am respectful but urgent as I suckle from her. Her nipples are large and proud now, and my mouth is eager as I surround her ripe nipples with my lips, and take the whole rich flesh mound into my mouth. She is ready to flow, and lets down and gives me life.

I feel drugged when I feed from her, which is odd since she does not give me my shots until after I have drained her and made her comfortable.

I am most hungry in the morning, though once my urgency lessens, she turns and presents her other wonderful breast to me. Sometimes she strokes the back of my head, and sometimes she cuddles me and coos low. I think she gets pleasure from this, and sometimes she rubs herself as I suck. I love Mistress.

She is my world, and I am at peace.

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