|Hypno/Bimbo Blog|

forgive the dirty mirror

can u tell i have a little bit of a tan line now

"Oh dear, someone looks very full!" Marcie exclaimed cheerfully, barely even keeping up a pretense at sympathy as she unsnapped the straps on Rory's dress to send it tumbling down and expose her lush, heavy tits. "Oh, sweetie, it's no wonder you came over a little bit early today, your udders have to be absolutely aching right now!" Rory furrowed her brow in a desperate attempt to figure out why Marcie called her breasts 'udders', or what she meant about coming over early, or really just anything that had been going on over the last several weeks, but it was so hard to think with that constant ache of pressure in her chest and she instead found herself wandering over to the kitchen island and bracing herself against it in a surprisingly familiar pose.

"That's a good girl," Marcie cooed, placing a steel pail on the stool just underneath Rory and giving her right breast a playful squeeze. "You're getting to be so well-trained now, and doesn't that feel so nice, sweetie? Doesn't it just feel so wonderful to come to me whenever you need help with those big pretty udders of yours?" Rory didn't know why she nodded, and she understood even less why the verbal response she'd planned to make had been replaced by a loud, lowing moo, but before she could begin the seemingly impossible task of unpacking it all in her feeble brain Marcie gave her nipple a tug and everything gushed out of her mind in a long, steady stream of creamy milk.

It wasn't even that it felt good on a physical level, although the sense of release and the hot, tingling pleasure of having her sensitive nipple played with was enough to make Rory's eyes roll back in her head with mindless arousal. It was more that it felt so satisfying, that on some level she couldn't escape a profound degree of contented fulfillment from just bending over with her tits out and her mind rapidly descending into stupefied ecstasy while her neighbor from down the hall milked her like a piece of livestock. Being a cow seemed so much easier than being a person, and Rory's muddled thoughts finally found a single clear and blissful memory as she recalled that first glorious day when her breasts began to express those first few drops of milk. "Good cow," Marcie murmured, and Rory couldn't help agreeing.

She wound up giving almost a full pint that afternoon, with Marcie's hands going from one breast to the other until she was finally drained, and by then she was so turned on that she let herself be led to Marcie's sybian with a blank and blissful smile on her flushed face. Marcie settled Rory down onto the vibrating saddle, purring, "I'm so proud of my pretty little cow," and then she put on a video that emptied Rory's mind out almost before she knew it was even happening. Rory grunted and moaned as the buzz finally satisfied the urgent throb between her legs, fully convincing her subconscious to go along with the programming her waking mind barely even remembered now, and by the time she finally slumped over it was almost time for her to go to bed. But Marcie made sure she got one last milking in, just to ensure she slept well when she trotted vacantly back to her own apartment to sleep.