Page 60 of Milk & Malice: Vadik
My breasts were so full, heavy, and a leaking mess. Nothing took my mind off the ache, and as it grew, the pangs between my legs throbbed in unison. I rubbed my thighs together andcursed my useless hooves. It had to be at least two weeks since my birthday. My belly rumbled, adding to my dismay.
I rolled off the bed, landing on my hooves—a tried-and-tested move by now. The trough had been filled with breakfast and a bowl of fresh-cut fruit for my snack. I was nibbling on a piece of chopped apple when the floorboards creaked.
The apple was forgotten. I rushed to the milking station and climbed onto the bench.
Back by the afternoon, my ass.
The click of his shoes on the wooden floor made my heart stutter. I held my breath.
Click. Click. Click.
They stopped behind me.
The scent of his cologne settled around my face like a fog I didn’t want to breathe. Clean, sharp, controlled.
His hands came into view—no words, no greetings. Just his fingers on my swollen udders. He massaged them briefly, efficiently, but it wasn’t enough. Not like before. His touch wasn’t lingering, wasn’t worshipful. Just a job to be done.
The suction cups came next. Cold. Automatic. Clinical.
I closed my eyes as the machine whirred to life. My body jerked from the force of the first pull, then slumped as the ache began to ease. Relief bled through me, robbing the tension from my limbs. I sagged forward, sinking onto the bench like a tired animal.
He didn’t say a word. Didn’t stroke my hair or rub my flank.
I glanced at the mirror. He wasn’t looking at me. Not even a glance. Not even a flicker of interest.
He used to admire me. Used to watch every twitch, every drip.
Now he stared at his phone.
I looked away and lowered my head, ashamed of how much that stung.
The machine groaned and pulsed. I listened to it like it was my lullaby.
My punishment for not being a good cow.
Chapter 26
Vadik
I slid the glass-lined dick gag into his mouth, smiling when his mouth filled up with blood and drooled down his chin. His eyes were bulging out and his muffled scream was sublime. With a sigh, I fastened the gag behind his head, listening to him choke, imagining his throat convulsing only to be sliced up some more.
I removed one glove and held out my hand. Viktor slapped my money into it. That would teach him to bet against me. I flicked through the bundle of cash.
“It’s all there for fuck’s sake. You're the last fucking psycho that I’d want to shortchange,” he grumbled before slapping Daniil’s cheek.
It was good being back at work, but I was unable to stop watching Lena. The medication was working, albeit slowly. The changes I wanted in her mind were permanent. I wanted her complete submission, nothing else would do. My work was where I could vent out my frustrations.
“I don't know how you can be this creative after so many years,” he said taking his phone out to take a picture of Daniil.
An unfortunate ex-member of the Bratva who betrayed the Pakhan.
“Can’t you hear him gurgling on his blood? His tongue betrayed the Pakhan. That was the first to go. Acid’s too fast.This one deserves a slow, lingering death,” I said, tucking my money away.
I started with Mikhail, then Yuri, but once I had them in my grip, I turned to the asylum staff members who’d mocked me. Drugged me up and strapped me down just for their sick pleasure—the ones who’d taunted the broken and weak.
“Hmm, won't he drown in his own blood?”
“Not unless you pinch his nose, give it a try,” I said with a smirk.
