This disclaimer must
be read before reading further:
The following story
is fictional and contains explicit pornographic material; it is not for minors
or the close-minded.
Alex Streuth is the pseudonym of the author and a fictional
character in these stories. Any
characters, places, businesses and/or circumstances etc. described herein are
entirely fictional. None of the
following is based on real organisms or organizations, and any semblance to
anyone or anything real, living, deceased or imaginary, (except where
specifically noted in the ‘Continuity and Background’ and ‘Literary Notes’
sections) is purely coincidental.
This story is
copyrighted (September 2005) by the author with permission granted to make
copies only for personal use, they may not be redistributed to others.
The author cannot be
responsible for the existence or delivery of any content which some may find
offensive; reader be warned, by continuing further with this document you agree
not to hold any party responsible for the delivery or existence of its
contents.
Due to the extreme
nature of the following material the author advises anyone who has stumbled
across this document by mistake to destroy it if it is in the form of a hard
copy, or to delete it and then write over its memory address if it is a soft
copy.
Thank you and enjoy
the following quality presentation.
--
Continuity and Background:
This story takes place within the charming
dominion of
My influences come from the
writings and imagination of Benson and Gord as well
as fiction from mygagorder.com and thundershrk. The prominent themes are humiliation,
degradation, mental conditioning, transformation, modification, bimbofication, objectification, big boobs, huge lips,
forced feeding, dehumanization, helpless females, Dominant males, and long term
suffering and servitude.
---
About the Author: My hobbies include collecting, examining, and
designing. I sometimes come across
inspiring stories or goings-on about Cherish and have been asked by the “Committee
for the Preservation of the Historical Record of Proper Female Deportment” (the
CPHD) to assemble and detail these accounts for posterity.
Authorship Disclosure: The following material originates from
personal first-person observations, from video recordings, diaries, medical and
scientific notes and other privately held (and confidential) sources, as well
as from public town events and records.
I then transpose these accounts into the third person and pen these
tales in my free time. While this is
intended as a work of non-fiction for Cherish public record some dramatic and editorial license has been
taken to help increase readership interest.
Also, as I am extremely busy
not all of the gathered data can be included in each presentation. If you are an accredited researcher with a
genuine academic interest you may be allowed access to more extensive
information. In order to request this
more thorough (and graphically detailed) explanation of certain material
presented, please send your request (noting with which area of record your
particular interest lies) to Streuthanasia@gmail.com.
Ally comes home
Introduction
Alex sat on a plush couch, relaxing, trying to hear the sounds of the gentle breezes outside. He reflected on the day’s trials and let his mind clear of its concerns, unwinding, allowing himself to let go of his worries and his stress.
It really had been a hectic day. First there had been the normal morning deliveries and tending to of the store. Every unit had to be inspected and the locks secured. The problem with live stock is that it’s always trying to scurry off. Alex always had that nagging worry in the back of his mind that some cage door might be a little too loose or some strap not tight enough and some of his wares might walk off. So every morning, despite the numerous and redundant safeguards, Alex liked to satisfy himself as to the state of his goods.
After that he had attended Dr. Spencer’s demonstration of a new technique, and, while it had been pleasant to see him making wonderful use of a woman’s cranial cavity--adding even more utility to it by removing unnecessary mass from the woman’s skull and tapering the sides a bit to give it both the functional capacity to snap into place when put into a locking square-peg shaped hole in the wall, and the pleasing aesthetic of higher cheekbones and a thinner face—he simply did not have the patience that morning to take notes on the designs for further consideration, hastily excusing himself after promising Spencer to ‘look into some other space efficient uses for this technique, like legos maybe’ and then hurrying off.
He had taken a quick breather and then gone to lunch with an employee, Dr. Pratt, a chemist in town who had been working for a competitor before Streuth had bought up the small firm and consolidated its assets. The merger had included Dr. Pratt, who had been working for a few months now for Alex, and had been tasked to come up with a way of making a woman’s saliva less acidic and more lubricating. After they had sat down and started in on a pleasant meal Alex began making subtle inquires as to his progress. Pratt demurred a few times before, growing agitated, Alex gave him a knowing look and then said “Why isn’t this project done?”
“It simply isn’t as easy as all that Alex,” Pratt looked like a doomed man trying to explain to the executioner that ‘today, wouldn’t it be much nicer if the blade didn’t come down and do its chopping thingy, and how, since it’s so beautiful out, that really wouldn’t it be much nicer if we all went for a picnic instead.’
He continued, “It’s a woman’s natural function to use her mouth to ingest food, and saliva is a part of that process, the food goes in and it starts to break down in preparation for digestion in the stomach.”
“Yes yes I know that Pratt,” Streuth was agitated by the man’s response. In private Streuth sometimes referred to him as Prattle because he tended to repeat common knowledge. Streuth continued “But that simply isn’t good enough. I’m sure you understand that I am a businessman above all things and that the customer demands a better product. The next thing on the market’s going to be improved oral enhancements, where the customer gets a better sensation over time. Our products are expected to have increased saliva production--standard, and they do, but, lately, I’ve been hearing a murmur from some of the, ahem, connoisseurs around town. They feel they would be better served by a less acidic lubricant. Now if we can’t provide that they might go for an unimproved model, one without enhanced saliva production and just use some KY jelly.” Streuth tapped his finger on the tabletop. “I can’t have that! Do you know how much of a fuckin’ premium we make on gland enhancements?!” Pratt frowned, knowing the question to be rhetorical and wilting a little under Alex’s stare.
Alex calmed and resumed a placid stare, casting his eyes to the side and mentally going over his words before leaning forward and speaking in a crisp, businesslike tone: “The market demands better quality products, and we can make a killing on this. Other shops have started to match our techniques, our Cherish Common Patent on several facial upgrades have expired and we aren’t recouping our R&D costs. If you don’t come through soon we might have to cut some costs…” Streuth allowed the weight of his words to settle on Pratt’s shoulders.
“I’m not saying for you to cut corners Pratt, our customers expect the best and we want to give them the best, what I’m saying is that you need to work smarter, harder. . . and faster. I want a solution to this problem and I don’t want to hear about ‘woman’s natural usage for her mouth’ or ‘when god designed her’ or any of that nonsense, this is the modern age Pratt, the age of biotechnology, and I want solutions, not cop-outs.”
Pratt blanched and rubbbed his adam’s apple nervously. He noted that Alex expected a response this time, by the way he sat back in his chair and eyed him appraisingly.
“I understand.” Pratt said solemnly, after a pause.
“Good, I hope you do. I expect a progress report this Friday. Come by my house around three, I’m giving a party.” Streuth made a small moue with his lips. “Listen Pratt, it’s nothing personal, but this is a business venture, I can’t keep you on at Spencer Labs if you aren’t producing for us. Come through on this and you’re a made man, if you succeed you can simply come in once a week from then on and twirl a test tube around for all I care, but fail me in this and I’ll have to let you go.” Alex stood up, the menace in his voice disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared; he flashed a bright smile, offered Pratt his hand, and stated cheerily “Enjoy the rest of your meal. See you at the party, oh, and bring Trixie, it’s a couples thing.”
Alex did not enjoy bullying Pratt, despite his mild dislike of the man. He respected his fellow men, especially his business associates, and considered it the mark of a lesser man to try to run his affairs through intimidation. Circumstances dictated, however, that he take a firm tact with the man. He had been working on this project for some time now and the results to date were simply unacceptable.
Streuth believed in the code and laws of Cherish, and tried his best to treat his fellow man as he would himself. It had repulsed him slightly to treat Pratt, a fellow man, in such a manner, for when men treated men badly then truly society had ceased to be civilized. But Alex couldn’t attest to being truly idealistic of course, he was in it for the profit, but, more so, he was in it for the sheer enjoyment of being at the center of such a wonderful enterprise: Raw, unmolded, simple-minded and uneducated women went in at one end and smooth, polished, refined, preened, elegant and well-deported women came out the other. Yes, when it came to women, well, the rules of society were different: It was man’s job to bring them into the fold, to make them worthy of man’s society. They were to be molded and used as a natural resource, a renewable resource at that, in accordance with man’s providence.
Alex stopped for a moment to reflect upon this, feeling especially poetic and virile, and tossed off a verse for his wife to take down later as Gospel: “Man is God’s agent here on earth, and it is only through Him that woman shall ever achieve propriety, suckling from the source of His guidance, her infantile mind bathing in the splendor of His rich nourishment.” Alex jotted this down on a napkin before sticking it in his pocket and hurrying off to his next appointment.
--
Mrs. Streuth felt the bare walls, her rubber-encased hands searching for an indentation or a sign to orient on. She did this every day, searching blindly, her head enclosed as it was in a thick rubber hood. Sight and sound were alien senses to her. From inside her rubber prison Ally breathed slowly and deliberately, her air supply narrow and requiring constant attention to secure oxygen from. Often, when distracted or overexerted, she had to rest for long periods of time; sitting, simply breathing in and out for awhile to replenish her strength before continuing on.
The rubber mittens Ally wore over her hands kept her from sensing texture or subtle changes in what she felt, she could make out solid objects and could press on the wall to determine its solidity, but beyond that her world existed in the abstract, the only definitive and detailed moments of her life controlled and enacted by her husband, whom she both despised and adored.
Ally had initially come to this town a few months ago, she could not recall when exactly since time had ceased to have meaning for her. She knew only that there had been a point in time when she had been free and happy.
She had been vital once, a young woman with a bright future full of the promise of happiness. She had been the daughter of a man whose family had fallen upon hard times. He had had to take new partners, men whom Ally had become fascinated with. They had seemed powerful and mysterious to her then, these people whom she watched coming and going. Then, one day, after having followed one of the travelers a little distance away from the house, she saw something that she should not have. Her scream had alerted them to her presence and she had frozen, suddenly very afraid.
That all seemed so long ago now though, she had been taken, she was here now. She had been sure, at first, that her father would show up and rescue her. As the days had passed she had become less sure of this, and had eventually given up. She never knew what had happened, whether her father ever knew or suspected the truth and did nothing for fear of the men he dealt with, or whether he had been compensated for her disappearance and had acted pragmatically. She wondered sometimes how her sisters were doing, what their lives were like, elsewhere, free and in the open. Oh how she longed to feel the wind on her, to smell the smells of the outdoors, to roam freely in the fields…
Here, now, with her hand, she found a corner, a place where the wall rounded a little more sharply, it became slightly more curved and she knew that she was getting somewhere. She had to be wary though, for sometimes Alex liked to curve a wall around on itself, here in the catacombs of his house, causing an oval that tricked her into following it around in circles for hours.
She made a mental map in her mind of the wall she was following and wished for the millionth time that she had something she could leave behind that would indicate to her whether she had been this way. It was futile though, even if she could secure some sort of small item to designate her path with, like a piece of cloth or string, or a small piece of bread, the maids that diligently patrolled the house would clean it up within a half hour’s time.
She did not fret or complain, she had been at this for too long and the fits of mania had long subsided in her, she no longer complained or went into a panic when she felt overwhelmed by her circumstances. She had grown used to the feeling of always being crushed, her body suffering under the constant weight of the heavy rubber.
Additionally she had grown used to the constant companion of
darkness, she had not seen light in many years, and only heard sound when Alex opened
up her ear closures and preached to her.
Maneuvering now, deaf and blind and tactileless,
around the maze-like hallways of
She could see it in her mind, it would be a glowing set of doors which would part as she pushed on them, and they would open upon a field and the sunlight would melt the rubber from her body and she would be free. She would feel the sunshine on her face, and she would be able to leap and skip and feel the wind upon her. Her hands traced the outline of something in the wall, a niche or groove, perhaps a window. She tapped on it with her gloved hands, no part of her visible under the heavy rubber garment she wore.
As she moved about the house in her slow and methodical way she slightly resembled an amorphous blob, and the other denizens of the house avoided her. The maids sometimes brushed against her with their brooms and occasionally she might trip over some low object or bound woman who moved about with no legs, but other than that contact she was alone all of the time.
So here now she hoped that it might be glass that she tapped upon, that it might prove to be a window, which would mean that she had found, finally, the outer-most layer of the labyrinthine Mansion.
If it was a window it would mean that she was close, close now to those doors whose freedom she might be within reach of. She ‘quickened’ her step, still moving slow as molasses as she moved the morass of encumbering material along with her. Under its heavy weight she sweated and heaved, slightly lightheaded with excitement, thinking she might be close now! She might finally find the exit! She dared not hope, as she had had her hopes dashed so many times before, but she tapped again and moved her gloved hand over the surface of what she hoped was glass. Her thickly mittened-hands could not determine if it was some other smooth material.
She rubbed it some more, trying to gauge how slippery it was. Back a few feet from her a viewer could see her moving her hands about on the wall, her body completely covered under its heavy burden of enclosing rubber. She carried an oxygen tank around with her as well, which fed up through the tubes leading into her hood. Her breasts, the usual gargantuan size required by Streuth of his collection, weighed her down still further: They had been re-implanted with denser bags than normal, giving them a hefty weight that caused her to bend forward slightly as she moved.
Over the months she had stooped a little more each day and found it easier to crawl sometimes, or squat, rather than stand back up.
All in all she must have carried around about 100 pounds of burden, most from the heavy rubber that enclosed her, almost as much in her chest, and the rest from things like the tank she carried around and her ancillary bondage, padlocks, hobble-rods, etc.
One of the upsides of being encumbered thusly was that her muscles stayed toned, but being incapable of the type of mobility needed for any real weight training she never reached the point where she was unable to move very quickly despite having a completely virgin physiology.
This had been the choice offered to her by her husband when he had chosen her to be his. He had offered her an unmodified body, or freedom from bondage. It had been a choice that she had not required much consideration to decide: After having been presented with the first Mrs. Streuth, whom Alex had said he had ‘bored with.’
Looking back on it there had been only one real decision, and she was not surprised when Streuth had seemed fully ready to accommodate her decision, almost anticipatory of her choice of the latter option.
Often though, she thought wistfully on what her life might be like if she had taken the other option. She romanticized the notion, obsessing over the fact that if she had taken the other option she would be able to see and hear her surroundings, although she would almost assuredly not still be in possession of most of her limbs. “What use are they though!” her mind screamed in frustration, as, hobbled as she was, and blinded by the hood she stumbled slowly around the house in her inimitable, and, Alex thought, wholly amicable, fashion.
When she was in her right mind and not overwhelmed by the depredations of her permanent bondage she had little cause to regret her choice, she had seen the creature Alex had kept in there, and had known that, eventually, she would be as bad off as she. She might have enjoyed a few years of the good life but eventually she would have ended up as freakish and as miserable. She shuddered as she thought of what might have become of Alex’s last wife since she had last seen her, now that they were officially divorced.
In fact Alex had fulfilled his legal obligations diligently. His ex-wife was kept right where she was, and kept on under the same terms as before, as a suitable test subject for his design prototypes. The institution of marriage was taken very seriously in Cherish, and an ex-wife was to be preserved with dignity and provided for in the same fashion as while she had been married, neglect was frowned upon.
To that end Alex had provided the necessary documents, photographs and video footage of previous the lifestyle of his wife as she had lived and been kept while married, and every six months a review was made as to her current living arrangement and compared to these documents. In fact, during the last review it was found that Alex, based upon the standards he had presented, had been neglecting her, and it was ordered that he perform at least two major surgeries and three minor surgeries on her before the next review in order to maintain her in the manner to which she had grown accustomed. Alex had been only too happy to oblige.
--
Alex, in order to make his game with his new wife more enjoyable, had made her a promise, a bet of sorts, that if she was able to find her way outside of the house that he would let her go, he would free her from her bondage and let her escape. If she didn’t believe that he would actually let her go she could instead accept that he would let her live on in the house free from bondage but that, sincerely, he fully intended to actually let her go if she actually managed to get out of the house.
The catch was quite simple, if she did not find her way out of the house her body would be fair game for modification again, and she would willingly submit to conditioning that would make her more complicit. The timeline for the contest was unspecified but as part of the agreement the conditioning would begin right away, and one way or the other they would have their outcome.
Thus, every blind turn or looping ellipse that Mrs. Streuth followed, every slowdown, every sleep period and every rest stop, brought her closer to a loss at Alex’s game. She was determined to escape, knowing full well that she was within Streuth’s power and had been from the moment she had arrived and had very little to lose by trying.
The man had such power in his domain that it only made sense that he would gain satisfaction from such a conquest only if he deigned to play fair, that is, if he cheated at his own games it would only make his victories that much more hollow. So, Ally had to gamble that if she were to succeed he would actually honor her vow. She wasn’t sure that he would actually let her leave the town, as she considered it more likely that some other person in town, not thusly obligated, might kill her before that happened, but she was willing to accept that he might let her live out the rest of her life in relative comfort and freedom on his property, and that was the reality she was aiming for.
Alex, for his part, was indeed playing fair, insofar as he planned to honor his agreements. He had planned for either eventuality. Sure enough he was prepared to accept Ally as a relative equal within his domain, if she won, and allow her to talk to him and walk about and conduct a relatively normal life, able to make her own choices and take her own pleasures. It was a sign of the times that Alex, after having spent some time in Cherish, getting to know women better in a manner in which he was comfortable, had grown less intimidated by them, by the mysteriousness that had plagued him so in his earlier years, and was ready to accept a real wife, at least, a Cherish wife.
But the edge to the deal was that even if she made it that far the conditioning up to that point would still be intact and, so long as he simply stalled her long enough he would have a very docile and obedient wife even if she won, something that he felt might be useful at society functions anyway. So really, Alex knew, it was a win-win arrangement for him, which was why he had arranged it in the first place.
The other outcome though, a total victory for Alex, was simply too delicious for him to ponder without growing giddy and jumping up and down like a child with a new toy. He kept those plans to himself and simply kept a watch over his wife’s progress through the house, one eye on the exit and one eye on the prize.
Conclusion
After finishing all of his day’s appointments Alex found himself able to finally take a rest, which is when he had sat down on the plush couch, relaxing and recounting the events of the day. He wanted to let himself unwind for awhile, and checked the status of his house, surely it could tend to itself for awhile, allow him some peace, maybe an aperitif and then a nap.
He had just started to close his eyes when a small alarm sounded, an unfamiliar noise. It took him a moment to place it--Why, it was the personal alarm he had set up for when Ally succeeded in finishing the maze…
Ally stumbled blindly forward, groping with her mittened hands for some wall or handhold. She had satisfied herself earlier to the validity of her results, she had found a window, and then a few more, and after a few more hours of searching had come upon a door which she had gone through. Now on the other side she felt warmth, sunlight, she could feel a slightly different texture beneath her foot-crushing shoes. Dropping intentionally to her knees she ran her hands over the ground, probing it, trying to see if she could push into it, if it was indeed soft, rich earth.
--
Ally had wandered into the trap Alex had set. She stood now inside of a broad courtyard, an expanse of the outdoors contained within the parameters of the house. She had not truly succeeded in escaping, but, to her limited senses she was convinced that she had made it. Elated and joyful she reached up and brought her rubber-covered face up towards the sun, feeling its warmth on her hooded face. Exhausted after the last few excitable hours she laid down on the ground, intent on getting up again after a few moments, just taking a rest.
Alex found her like this, crouched on all fours in the courtyard he had designed. He thought she looked absolutely delightful with her large rubber-covered udders pressed against the earth. Moving on tiptoe, although it was unlikely she would hear him anyway, he stole up on her and gently released her ears from their coverings.
Ally stirred, she could hear the sounds of the outdoors, and she knew that Alex must be nearby. She hoped that he would fulfill his promise and let her roam freely now.
“Ally, can you hear me Ally?” Ally nodded her ovoid-shaped ball of a head. Alex was loosening some straps. “Would you like to see what you’ve won? Congratulations are in order, you get complete freedom to move about anywhere out here. Shall I take this hood off, do you want to claim your prize now or keep searching?”
Ally didn’t know what Alex was getting at, she had made it outside, of course she was going to claim her prize, she certainly was not going back inside. He must simply be playing some mind games with her, trying to convince her that she should resume her blind searching. Well no more! She had won and she’d be damned if she let Alex talk her into something else. She felt air upon her mouth, Alex had let it go. Instinctively she clenched it for brace of intrusion but nothing attempted to penetrate.
“Silly Ally, this is it, this is what you’ve been waiting for, you can talk now.”
She could talk?! This was it, Alex was going to keep his word. Ally fumbled for words at first, her only vocal exercises for the past several months had been the prayer recitals Alex had made her do, and those had usually been interrupted when Alex had been overtaken by the urge to interrupt her speech with his own interjections, usually the mouth-filling kind.
“Y-yes, I would like you to let me go now, please.”
“You need to phrase it right Ally, you need to say ‘Here is where I choose to roam.’”
Ally thought that sounded weird but she wasn’t about to argue over semantics. “H-here is where I ch-choose to roam.”
“Very good my girl. Now, let me take this hood off of your head so you can take a look around.” Alex smiled inwardly, knowing that Ally’s reaction was going to be priceless, he chided himself for not bringing a camera.
She felt the warm, sweaty rubber being pulled off of her head, she felt the cool air greeting her pale skin. It was a relief to be out of that thing. She looked around, curious as to what the world looked like outside of Alex’s house. It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the light, and at first she had to look out through small slits, the light hurt her eyes.
Slowly her world came into view, there was green grass on the ground and blue sky above, but what was odd was that the building façade that she was sure she had just come out through faced her from in front. Indeed, there were the windows she had explored. Confused, furrowing her brow she looked behind her, turning her head sharply and gasped when she saw the door she had come from, and the windows she had explored earlier. What she had taken for one long wall of windows was actually four walls of windows surrounding an enclosure.
No, no she looked around frantically now, this must be a mistake, this must simply be a wing of his house, she was outside, she had made it, she knew it! She was breathing quickly now, hyperventilating, Alex savored her panic and placed his hands on her shoulders. Ally bolted, crawling off skittishly, getting to her feet as quickly as she could and then running as fast as her hobbled legs would let her.
Alex just watched her go, running through the tall grass searching for a way out. He gave her a few seconds head start and then sprinted after her, pleased by this turn of events. Ally glanced back for a moment, to see if Alex was chasing her and tripped over a rock, plowing headfirst down into some mud. Turning over to lay on her back she knew that she was doomed, she could not get up from under the weight of her bulging titsacks in such a slippery mess. She pounded her rubber hands in the muck futilely, her rage boiling up insie of her, she had been duped! She had not made it through the exit she had ended up in an indoor pasture!
“Good girl, its ok, good girl.” Alex said as he approached, as though trying to calm an animal. Ally looked up at him with hate in her eyes but refused to give him the satisfaction of trying to escape now that she was cornered. She would wait until he came in close and then hit him, maybe she could… Alex moved suddenly, coming in low and fast and overpowering her prone body before shoving a fast-acting sedative into her mouth. Ally, who had been about to shout an epithet, swallowed, doing what comes naturally when something is in one’s throat and one is about to speak. A look of dumb confusion passed over her features, disbelief. She wanted to cry. “I see my cow is not taking to her new life too well. Well, a few changes will remedy that.”
--
When she awoke she was, as Alex promised, free of her rubber bondage and free to roam about her new home. Her face had a slightly placid look to it, drool dripped from between her lips and an even larger pair of udders hung from her torso. Standing at peace on all fours, bent forward at the hips Ally resembled a perfectly darling heifer.
Her elbows had been locked straight, and her wrists and hands fitted into a set of faux knees which continued on to end in hooves. The length of the prosthetics ensured an equal height between Ally’s front ‘leg’s and her rear ones, which had been modified to allow little bending of her natural knees. Unfortunately Dr. Spencer had been unable to mimic the mobility that cows exhibit in their legs, but Alex had assured him that an unnatural gate was fine.
Ally’s back and spine had been adjusted to allow for a more natural four-legged stance. In its current position her spine was perfectly adjusted to let her remain bent at the hips for the rest of her life with no discomfort. In fact straightening up now to stand on two legs, something gravity and her huge hanging udders would have something so say about anyway, was simply out of the question. Her back would resist her every step of the way and Ally simply did not have the mental resistance left to attempt such a thing.
After having been knocked out she had awoken at Spencer Labs. Major surgeries were performed and during her healing she had been subjected to a more rigorous course of conditioning which made the conditioning Alex had been subjecting her to before seem like amateur stuff, which is what it had been. No, this course of conditioning did not have the hands-on feel Alex enjoyed, nor did it have the benefits of allowing him to watch as she slowly fell more and more into his thrall, but, it was quick and efficient.
Placed into a helmet which delivered images and sounds, played loops of desired behavior and responses reinforced with pleasurable stimulation, Ally’s mind was quickly molded. She learned to walk towards Alex when he clicked his fingers, to moo in a passing low, and, above all, to subjugate her will to her owner’s, to let her evil thoughts be pushed back into the small of her mind, and to go with the flow.
--
In her pasture now, walking towards Alex, a small voice in her mind resisted, telling her to rush at him and attack. The same voice also told her to stop following his, to stop acting like a dairy cow, that she was a human being, a woman with rights. It screamed in her mind and buzzed about her like an angry gnat. The voice grew louder and more vehement, but before it could encroach upon her conscious thoughts Ally clenched her buttocks, swishing her prosthetic tail, which flopped back down afterwards to smack upon her rear.
Alex saw this and smiled, knowing that the programming had succeeded totally. Each time her mind balked and reached the point where it might interfere, Ally responded properly and quashed the voice, pushing it back down into her subconscious where it might percolate to rise again later. The somatic component of the conditioning required Ally to swish her tail each time she did this, each time she quashed her own mental resistance. Taking a few steps back Alex clicked again, summoning Ally a little farther forward. He was taking her for a walk and enjoying the quiet gentleness of the pasture.
As she followed the sound of Alex’s clicking, Ally’s head--still properly aligned to her spine—faced the ground, making her blind as to what she was walking towards. As she took each, slow, bovine step, Ally’s cowbell rung, her septum had been pierced with a thick gold ring, and a heavy bell had been affixed to it. The weight on her septum was a constant tug, and as she walked the bell clanged and, occasionally, when she walked too quickly, smacked her in the face, a constant reminder for her to walk slower and be more placid.
Clicking his fingers Alex summoned Ally towards him. As she ambled forward she studied the grass as they walked over it. It was short here, and she was unable to reach it with her mouth, but the sight of it still caused her to drool. Following Alex’s clicking she had no view of what lay ahead, she simply gazed down at the ground and obeyed his summons. Eventually she felt the call of nature and lowed softly, not stopping in her gait, but simply letting her body do what came naturally.
Alex smiled as he turned to watch over his shoulder. Ally did not show any outwards sign of discomfort as she openly defecated, but inside her mind--the part of her that retained its identity and voiced its complaints as to her behavior—she was blushing deeply, dead embarrassed at what she was doing. Alex made a mental note to avoid stepping in the fresh dung on his way back.
Finally reaching their destination Alex bade Ally stop with a simple pressure upon her forehead. They had reached the high grass and Alex left to her feeding. She opened her mouth, her nose and lower face having been surgically restructured to more resemble a snout, which was adept at this sort of eating. Watching her take to her meal Alex let her out to pasture. He moved back into the lower grass and laid down to take a nap, knowing she would be slow in her feeding. Ally’s wide mouth chomped on the grass, sucking it in and chewing on it, her cowbell clanking dully on the sweet grass as she ate it. Dr. Spencer had done a marvelous job on her face, and when he had shown it to her in the mirror she had openly cringed at the sight:
The snout in the middle of her face protruded like a foreign object from her head, she was able to see it easily in front of her and it obstructed some of her view. Her hair had been cruelly denuded and depilated. The prosthetic ears which had been affixed to the top of her head were too much for her and she sobbed openly at the mocking visage she was presented with. In order to assuage her doubts Spencer had pierced her septum right then, letting her know that her new face was indeed real and not simply a collage of make-up. She had clenched her teeth at the pain and then wondered as she rubbed the smooth surfaces on each other. Opening her mouth again had revealed the truth, that her teeth had not escaped unchanged as well.
Ally bent her head forward a little and bit off some of the grass, chewing it in her mouth on her wide, flat teeth. The good Doctor had recently started studying dentistry and had seen fit to practice his new trade on her. While they weren’t exactly perfect they were much more fitting for her task than her teeth had previously been.
Chewing slowly and deliberately and occasionally swishing her tail to chase away the voice that buzzed about her like a fly, Ally tended to the grass and swallowed her cud. She took some more into her mouth and chewed on it. After a time she vomited back up the first bit and chewed them both together.
With an empty mouth she leaned down to eat some more grass but found it already eaten down farther than she could reach. Moving forward to the side a bit, her conditioning telling her that Alex liked an orderly edge when she ate, she munched on some new grass before bringing her cud back up for another pass.
Eating in this slow, tedious, and methodical manner she continued on for a few hours, taking a break to relieve her water and resting at short intervals, just standing there doing nothing, occasionally swatting a mind-fly, while her stomach digested. The voice inside her told her to walk over to Alex and stomp on his head with her hooves. Her body shivered slightly at this suggestion, and she made an effort of mentally swallowing the her consciousness along with her food this time, sending it, as she had been taught, down and out, down and out. This time when she crapped the voice left her alone for a little while.
With no instruction from the sleeping Alex, she wandered over to the water trough back by the barn. Dipping her head forward she drank from it, feeling refreshed and feeling the warm numbness come over here that brought her welcome relief from her aches and from her thoughts.
After drinking for awhile she felt the urge in her massive bosom growing and began lowing for her Master. After awhile with no response she lowed again, her teats felt heavy and burdened with an abundance of liquid. The urge in her bosom was growing stronger as she ambled over, going inside the barn next to the milking area. She began to low loudly now, trying to get her owner’s attention. The voice inside her mind woke back up and told her to escape, now, while she had the chance, but she flicked it back down and walked over to the water trough again. Alex stirred.
He had enjoyed a good nap and looked over to where his cow had gone. He saw that she had done a good job of tending to the grass. He looked around sharply and then smiled again when he saw her drinking from her trough. The good Doctor had given him something to put it in which helped ease her mind but burdened her chest. He liked the thought of her worries and concerns draining from her head, her consciousness drifting down and entering her chest, causing such a truant and pesky mind to plunk down where it could do some good. He watched as her bosom heaved with its swollen, tumescent cargo.
Striding back up to his ‘herd’ Alex patted her flank,
admiring the way her hips and sides looked, even more fetching than they had
been before, what with the way they were bent over just so, invitingly. He moved around behind her, admiring the way
the matte rubber suit that she wore added a nice white
Lowing again Ally made the sounds that indicated that she needed to be milked, urgently. Alex snapped himself from his reverie and led her quickly into the barn. Sitting down at the stool he gripped her udders in his hands, marveling at their magnificent size. Moving his hands up and down the gorgeously voluminous teats, feeling their thick leathery nipples, Alex began to coax their nectar from them, watching as, slowly at first, small droplets escaped her milk ducts and dripped down into the pail.
Ally had been ‘holding her milk’ but now relaxed, and after a few good strokes she felt some relief begin in her chest. Before her milksacks had felt cramped and tight, but now the knot in her tits began to loosen. Each tug loosened her up some more, allowing more milk to dribble out. After a few moments Alex elicited a fine white spray of milk which ended up in the pail below. After having gotten her started Alex hooked the milking machine up to finish her off, eager to return to his prior line of thought.
Flicking the switch that would set the pumps in motion Alex walked back around behind Ally, coming back to the treasure he had been admiring before. “The time is ripe,” he thought, “everything is in place, it is time to pluck the fruit.” He was going to enjoy this:
He had been specific in her conditioning, and while Ally played the part of the cow perfectly he knew that she still retained her free thoughts and her conscious mind somewhere deep within the cow-body. Where those thoughts resided had been a matter of design.
The part of her that was aware of everything deeply resented and hated him for what he had done to her, tricking her and then degrading her in this manner. It suffered in anguish knowing what had befallen Ally, and it looked for ways of lashing out against him. Alex knew all of this because he had personally taken the time to draw Ally into hypnotic trances, and, once properly primed, conversed with this buried part of her consciousness.
But he hadn’t simply talked with her consciousness, no, he had played with this part of her as well; he had convinced it of several things. First, that Ally’s new body was as strong as a cow’s, reminding her subtly that if its one thing cow’s can do, it is kick. While this notion seemed rather silly to Alex he was glad that Ally’s consciousness had seized upon a seeming strength so readily, overlooking the fact that Ally’s legs were still, while sturdy, far from dangerous. But, having convinced her consciousness of this fact, Alex went out of his way to torment her it now.
When he approached her rear he looked for signs of its presence while he savored the view. He knew that Ally resented his gaze upon her charms, as well as the fact that he now had his hands upon her behind. He was looking to see if her consciousness was awake though. With her body’s conditioning occupied with the milking he thought it a prime moment to test it.
Alex was rewarded when Ally’s tail began smacking his fondling hand, as this was highly against her conditioning: It did so very deliberately, which indicated to Alex that Ally’s mind was awake and alert. Ally’s body was occupied with the pleasure of milking and so her conditioning was presently occupied. Ally’s conscious will took the tail and swung it at him, in an attempt to get him away from her private parts. Convinced of her mindfulness of the situation, Alex took the next needed step to ensure their ‘privacy.’ He first moved the tail to the side, then, unsheathing a portion of it from behind the bristly hair, he took this smooth, narrow, rubberized tip and inserted it into Ally’s tighter orifice, its design ensuring that it would not be easily removed.
Additionally he took a suction cup from his pocket and, peeling the back from its sticky side, stuck it securely over her less-than-hygienic of spots, an additional precaution against unwanted outbursts. He was not free to shower his affections on the coquettish maiden; the two of them were now alone.
Sensing the neutralization of her first line of defense Ally’s mind mobilized her trump card, ready to put Alex out of commission with a mighty kick the moment he let his pants down . . .
After a few moments of banter with the bashful maiden, carefully studying her legs to see if she was roused, Alex secured an invitation inside, that is, stuck a finger up next to her entrance, under the pretext of ‘Just having a look around.’ At the moment she felt his finger touching upon her she readied her stance, eager to smash his balls in the moment he made another move.
Alex primed her while bringing out his rock-hard manhood, its shaft pulsing with its rapine intent:
Her cow ears hearing everything Alex leaned down and whispered near Ally’s sexmouth. He had convinced her, while in trance, that her true consciousness, the part of her that could not be broken, resided inside of her vagina. He talked to it now, confident that her brain thought he was talking directly to her.
Ally’s mind had identified with his message, “A woman’s mons is the source of her power and her being”, Alex had told her, and, after several trance sessions, he had Ally convinced that her consciousness resided there. While it had taken awhile to secure her in this belief, Ally had eventually let her consciousness--over several trance more sessions, and set upon as she were by the constant existence in her depredated state--retreat into the sanctity and purity of her virgin maidenhead—for Alex had never taken her while she had lived as a rubberdoll.
He had goaded her into obsessing over its purity, her thoughts already focused upon the spot due to its sexual frustrations. Every slap upon it by her cowtail was a slap in the face, he explained to her, her body had been conditioned to torment and subjugate her. For her part Ally’s mind had internalized everything he had said, she could feel it upon her face each time her cunt was slapped by the tail, she felt as though her being was safe inside of her pulsing mons.
Her thoughts revolved around it, circled it, and readily accepted a residence within it, at Alex’s insistence. She took up nest in it, made her home there, putting her private thoughts and plans there, separating herself from the mental drudgery and boredom of her cowlike existence by creating a mental playground, a palace, which existed within her canal. She set her palace just beyond her hymen, confident in her ample defenses, secure in the sanctity of her power here. She was fiercely protective of the privacy and virginity of her womanhood.
After a time she had grown slightly more confident in herself, she had taken to staging missions from her mind’s homebase in her cunt, sending attacks on the rest of the body, trying to gain back control, but sometimes time the conditioning kicked in, causing her to take flight back down into her private sanctum. When the cowtail flicked and smacked her nest she felt it, mentally, and flinched each time she felt it about to strike. Now though, fully in control, she felt ready for anything: so long as she protected that entrance, so long as she kept it hidden and safe she was impregnable.
She readied now for that confrontation, eager to finally do in that man whom had plagued her so… She was sure that any attempt by Alex to visit upon her in her home would be met with a groin-crushing kick that would defeat him.
Now, as he brought his cock to bear, and whispered his intent near her cuntlips Ally’s mind commanded the body to launch into its attack, she had succeeded in getting it to make strong kicks before when she was alone, she was confident of Streuth’s destruction. She put her full fury into this attack:
So Ally bucked when she felt his cock about to enter, felt his hands upon her shanks, and she trembled slightly for she could sense the power that lay behind it, she could feel that if it were to gain entry it would be a far greater blow than the one that the tail inflicted when it gently slapped. She steadied herself though, confident in her defenses and she did kick with her mighty legs!
She felt the cockhead now entering her path, coming down the lane, outside her door, its size and force ready to bowl through her defenses, she had to act now, she again commanded the body to kick with its mighty legs. “Now!” she commanded, and then, terrified, “Now!” Why was it not working?!
Alex looked down, his gaze fixed on her ankles as he pushed into her, his cock twitching each time he saw her hobbled legs futilely strive to kick. Ally felt bloated suddenly as something massive entered her, she grimaced, feeling the pain, it was like an avalanche, crushing and sudden. Her consciousness retreated back into its palace, mustering false bravado, telling itself that Alex would never make it past the bulwark. Looking up she beheld it, barreling down towards her hymen, huge, its head twice the size of her house. She knelt then and quailed before its magnificence, watching, fascinated as it burst through her hymen, watching how easily it smashed through even her most bolstered defenses.
She prayed that it would not crush her, she recited dutifully those prayers that Alex had taught her, capitulating to his majesty, accepting him as her god, taking her place before him, hoping that he would have mercy upon her, spare her her silly thoughts and allow her to survive this assault upon her… and then his wrath was upon her, she felt it, hard and hot, penetrating her mind, and she screamed, deep within her she screamed as Alex took the one last place on her body that remained sacrosanct, her cries becoming muffled as every portion of her resistance was obliterated by his cleansing flood.
---
by
Alex Streuth
Literary notes: A sequel to ‘Ally, a vignette’ this story
continues the tale of the life of Alex’s new wife. We learn a bit more about Streuth’s
home life and his proclivities and shown a little bit of his day-to-day business
dealings.
For any of those who had
wondered whether Alex was softening up a little bit this story helps shine a
little bit of light on the new marital conditions imposed upon the young Ally.
--
Keywords: Objectification degradation extreme
modifications unwilling forced modified enhanced collagen silicone silicon
swallowed surgery choked gagged modified injected amputated helpless “down into
her” “down her” mouth throat slave toy bimbo doll girl tits
--
Lastly, the author disclaims
that outside of the realm of fantasy none of these types of
behaviors and/or ideas are healthy much less conscionable. It is my intention to provide a well-written
adult story that allows the reader to indulge in their darker appetites. Feedback is welcomed, and you may write me at
Streuthanasia@gmail.com
--
Reader suggestions are always
welcomed and I am sure if you have a specific situation, person, item of
clothing, object, body part or interaction etc. that you wish inserted into the
busy schedules of the exacting Dr. Spencer and Mr. Streuth
please do not hesitate to contact me regarding it. I will see it I can fit your order into their
schedule, or bring it up at the next Cherish Board meeting. –AS
Please check out Alex Streuth's Stories
(www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Alex_Streuth/www/)
for the rest of my hosted collection.
I am indebted to The Mayor of Cherish www.bimbofiction.com for the use of his setting.