Page 56 of M!lked For His Pleasure

But he was determined to take his time, to get her used to being cared for in this way before claiming her as his own. So for now, he’d have to settle for watching her come undone at his touch.

Her clit was so swollen, he had no trouble locating it as he stroked her soaked pussy. “Since you were so obedient this afternoon, I won’t make you ask me for permission to come. This time.”

Muscles straining, she pressed back against his hand as much as the restraints allowed. “Oh, god. Uncle Luke, please. Please, please, please.”

Uncle Luke. The childhood nickname slapped him in the face, reminding him of who she was. Who her father was. This was all so fucking wrong, and yet he couldn’t have stopped himself if his life depended on it. He stroked and pinched and teased her poor little clit until she was a writhing, panting mess in front of him.

“I’m not your uncle,” he snapped out, the reprimand coming out more sharply than he’d intended. “Miss Pearl was right. You shouldn’t be calling me that.”

“M-Master?—”

“No. Not that, either.” There was only one title he wanted to hear from her. A title he hadn’t allowed anyone else to use in nearly a decade. A title that was certain to damn him to hell if he hadn’t already earned himself a one-way ticket.

“Tell me,” she begged, desperation lacing through her tone as he worked her into a frenzy. “Whatever you want, I’ll say it, just please let me come.”

He should wait. He knew he should wait, until he was absolutely certain she could handle being claimed as his.

But the need to hear that title from her lips was growing stronger by the second, too strong for even him to deny. “You can call me Daddy, little cow.”

“Oh no,” she moaned, dropping her head in shame, but not enough to hide the red flush coloring her cheeks. “I can’t!”

“You can, and you will. Because if you don’t, I will ensure you are not allowed any pleasure until you do. What’s it going to be, little cow?”

“Uncle Luke,please.”

“Not until you beg Daddy to make you come.”

She let out a short scream of frustration and he couldn’t help but grin. There was the fight he’d been waiting for. Sliding his fingers through her folds, he pressed hard against her clit. “There’s no point in being stubborn about it, little darlin’. I promise I can hold out a lot longer than you go. Beg me, or go without.”

“Oh, god.” A shudder racked her entire body. “Please, please let me come!”

“So close, little cow. So close. Who am I?”

Another frustrated scream as she swung her head from side to side. “I can’t!”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” And he really was. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to hear her crying out for Daddy as she came all over his hand.

A sob escaped her lips when he pulled his hand away. “I hate you.”

“I’m sure you do. And you can hate me for as long as you need, my sweet little cow. But you will learn to obey me.”

“I won’t,” she said between panting breaths.

“Then this is going to be a very uncomfortable few months for you. Come, little cow, we need to get you settled in your stall.”

Chapter Six

By the time she crawled to her stall on the padded hooves and kneepads he’d fitted her with, she was exhausted down to her bones. Between the stress of the day and the orgasm he’d teased her with, she was absolutely wrung out.

Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t quite done yet.

Her ‘stall’ was really a large bedroom with two twin beds on either side of the room. Both beds were perfectly made, but the left side of the room looked distinctly more… lived in was the only term she could think of to describe it. The wall was decorated with various ribbons she couldn’t read from a distance, as well as photos of various women dressed exactly like her, their arms around each other grinning for the camera.

Which meant the bed on the right, as barren and cold as it was, must be hers. And sitting on her bed was a contraption she only vaguely recognized. A large machine of sorts with two hoses that ran to two clear plastic cones. Each cone was also connected to what appeared to be a bottle.

“What’s that?” she asked, stopping in the middle of the room to keep a healthy distance between her and the machine.

“A breast pump. Starting tomorrow, you’ll begin taking supplements to assist with your milk production, but in the meantime you’ll be hooked up to the pump every morning and every evening. The stimulation from the pump should encourage your body to produce milk.”

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