Page 65 of Milk & Malice: Vadik
My masterpiece.
My creation.
My pet.
???
I lay in bed watching her under the warm glow of the lamp. She stared at the mirrors on the ceiling until she slid her hoof over her belly. I sat upright, gripping the phone until I felt it would crack beneath the weight of my grip. The hoof went lower, her thighs parted.
My chest puffed up in unadulterated satisfaction. Tomorrow was day twenty-eight, and she was on the verge of splintering.
I knew exactly how to push her over the edge—straight into the abyss.
???
I checked my reflection, smoothing my hair before taking her breakfast and drink to the barn. She sat in front of the door, waiting like a good pet. I strode past her to fill her trough up and set her cherry drink down. She dragged her hooves to the milking station, head bowed.
As I approached her rear, the plate and fork were forgotten on her bed. Without a word, I stood over her, bending down to grip her heavy, dangling udders. Her eyes met mine in the mirror.
I smoothed my fingers around her nipples until her milk sprayed out. Grey and blue locked together until her cheeks turned pink and those plump lips parted. I continued massaging her udders, teasing the milk out of her fat nipples.
“Ugh… Moo,” she moaned with her eyes closed.
“Good, girl,” I whispered, pinching her nipples a few times, prolonging her pleasure.
I reached for the suction cups and attached them to her, but as I moved back her eyes opened. I never broke my gaze until every last drop was pumped out of her. When I left for work, I knew her little cunt wouldn't last long.
She’d rubbed her slit on that padded stump like it was my cock. Mooed into the pillow like a pathetic, broken heifer. I watched the footage on loop—zoomed in on the way her fat cunt spread, how she cried when she couldn’t come. She’d held her breath and moaned my name.
Not‘Doctor’. Not‘Vadik’. Just Owner.
Like a prayer to the monster who made her.
???
I returned home early since there wasn't much left to do other than saw up the remains, bag them, and scrub my operating room until it shone like new.
The methodical cleaning helped pass the time. The real reward was watching Lena’s feed. Restless. Needy. Pacing like a cagedanimal waiting for slaughter or salvation. I left immediately—the forty-minute drive had never felt longer.
It was time for my pet to come to heel for her Owner.
When I parked my vehicle, I went straight to my closet to get what I needed before I went to the barn. I took a deep breath before I opened the door. Soft music played on the television. Her head jerked up, and she climbed off the bed as I stepped inside, kicking the door shut with my foot.
Her head tilted up as she came to a stop. Those deep blue eyes, vulnerable and soft. Her udders hung between her hoofs, begging for my mouth.
“Mooooo.”
It wasn't a whisper, but a roar and I was proud of my little heifer.
“My good girl,” I cooed, stepping forward as her eyes filled with hope.
My sweet, naive little cow. She still didn't know me.
I spread my feet and grabbed her by the horns to grind my crotch into her face.
“Take a good sniff, my sweet, because this is what you will be choking on for twenty-eight days.”
Her muffled moo made me grin, and I released one horn to reach for the metal-ringed mouth gag in my pocket.
