eepers

Im such a slut toy omg

udders out, dumb cow and play with your worthless friends before the herd of cows is bred

The first ones were simple, just celebratory nipple piercings, ones that he had said would look good on you — but then neither of you wanted to stop there. The longer you went denied an orgasm, the more modifications you could get, and the more you edged for it, the more extreme the change.

It was just soooooo easy. For the next few months, things moved slowly. You'd edge yourself once every few days, just whenever the urge hit you. The frustration was difficult to deal with, but you could see the reward at the end of the tunnel. After your second month of staying denied you had managed to bring yourself to the edge 12 times, something you had never done before you in your life — but according to your partner, that number could be higher. For this month, your reward was a tattoo, a small one on your left hip: twelve tally marks.

You don't try any harder for month three. The tattoos and piercings are nice, and that's really what you wanted out of the deal, so why try any harder to edge more? The issue is, you just find yourself needing it more. Where before you would edge yourself once every couple of days, now you're getting a session at least once a day, sometimes twice. By the end of the month, you've got a hip covered in 54 tallies, and an appointment for lip filler in the next week.

And now in month four, your morning and nightly sessions are longer, bringing you to the edge three or four times each. You find your partner's hands on you more often, squeezing you, teasing you, reminding you of how greedy you are for any kind of stimulation. You spend more time with a cock in one of your holes now than you ever did before, but since you don't get to cum, it feels more like you're being used for his pleasure. It's fine though, because if you bring yourself to the edge while being used, that's another tally. At the end of month four, you added 226 tallies to your hips, a collection that is quickly moving to the space on your leg, and you made your first breast augmentation appointment — you've always wanted them a little bigger, right?

You can feel the effects of last month's greed now, in month five. Your body is different, better suited for being used by your partner, and you're almost always rubbing when you have a free moment. It's harder to focus at work, it's difficult to spend time with friends or family — any time you're out you have to find somewhere to sneak off to and edge yourself at least once, sometimes more, just to keep yourself from doing it in full view of everyone around. It's almost like an instinct now to follow that urge anytime it arises.

And so at the end of month five, after you've added nearly 300 tallies and gotten a new set of implants for your rapidly growing tits, your partner makes you an offer: just move in. You already spend every waking hour at his apartment, already spend most nights there too. If you live with him, he can pay the bills, you won't even need a job. It only takes one more shift at work where you spend more time rubbing your cunt than you do working for you to agree.

So you pack up your apartment and move into his. For the first few weeks it's easy to distract yourself; you're unpacking, merging your two separate lives, learning where everything is. You even manage to focus enough to edge yourself less, and for a moment you think maybe you'll have less tallies this month — but then, the boredom sets in. You don't work anymore, the apartment is unpacked and cleaned. What's a girl to do?

You try to manage it. Edge in the morning and at night, spend the rest of the day reading, or cleaning, or making art. But there really is just so much time in a day. You allow yourself an afternoon session, and then another one after lunch. Pretty soon all of those bleed into each other, and your spending all this new free time on making yourself in an edge whore.

You just can't stop edging yourself, you need the heat in your cunt. With no work hours you spend all your free time rubbing yourself into a stupid mess, waiting for your partner to get home so you can serve him too. Maybe if you serve him well, he'll change you again. Maybe, if you do a good enough job, he'll let you cum-

And then you realize, you don't want to cum. And he's not just your partner anymore. You want to edge. You want to live in denial. You want to be the perfect slut for your Masters needs.

Suddenly it was just sooooo easy to be Masters denied, edging bimbo- the hornier you get, the more you edge. The more you edge, the more Master changes you. The more Master changes you, the hornier you get. New tits, new lips, a thicker ass, all bought and paid for by your unyielding denial, by your constant rubbing, and by your brains leaking away in your constant bliss. Pretty soon your Master gets you on a hormone regimen so that your libido is even higher, and in a couple short weeks, your tits, already massive from all the alterations, grow even larger with the weight of milk.

Somewhere along the way, you stop caring about the prize. The changes are nice, but they're not for you, they're for your Master. The edging is what you get out of it. You spend your days rubbing and humping and groping, milking your tits and constantly chasing your almost-orgasms. Your hips and legs are covered in tally marks, all the way down to your ankles.

Your don't need to cum, you need to edge.

You don't need to think, you need to serve.

You don't need to speak, you need to suck.

You don't need fuck, you need to be used.

And you're nearly the perfect slut for Him already, right? Just a couple more changes.

Oh I know the pressure must be so distracting, and it doesn't help that you're leaking from... well, you're leaking from a couple different places. You're getting it all over the floor, a good cow would know to clean up after herself. Maybe instead of a milking I'll just put your clamps on while you lick up your mess.

And you know, you've been talking about how much you wanted to grow your milky udders. Your teats already rub across the carpet when your walk on all floors, but you said you wanted them to drag behind you with the weight. Maybe if we don't milk you for a little longer, your tits will grow to try and compensate for the over production.

Make me "feed" your friends in front you. Strip me in front of them, make me jiggle my tits and moo while they watch. Order me to be a good cow and do my job. Then watch as I place my boobs in their mouths one by one and massage my tits while they suckle. Watch me feed your friends again and again and again until you grow too hard and order me to present my pussy so you can fuck it while my tits sway back and forth. Then put them back in your friends' mouths while I'm still full of your cum.