Page 60 of M!lked For His Pleasure
“Oh, it absolutely would be.”
“So now I’m curious,” Alice said once their laughter finally died down again. “How are you enjoying your stay? Do you like being a cow?”
“I don’t know yet.” Embarrassed heat rose to Dottie’s cheeks. “I like the things Uncle Luke does to me. I like the way he touches me. And being milked was… interesting.”
“Oh, it’s my favorite.” Alice’s eyes lit up at the mention of being milked. “I haven’t been able to produce yet, which has been kind of a bummer, but I love the way it feels. And I lovebeing able to lose myself in that mindset of being a cow. In those moments, I don’t have to worry about therapy or what I’m learning here, I can just… be Alice the cow, being milked by a rancher. It’s kind of lovely, really.”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
“It takes a while to get there, if you get there at all. But if you do, there’s really nothing like it.” Alice yawned widely, giving her head a little shake. “It’s getting late. We should get to bed. But promise me you’ll come to me if you have any questions, yeah? I know your situation is a bit different, but we’re all here for the same reasons. And wouldn’t you just love to get out of here and prove you’re not the fuck up your parents think you are?”
“I don’t see that happening.”
“I do. You’ve got spirit, Dottie-girl. And I can’t wait to watch you rub their noses in your success.”
“Rise and shine, little cows!”
The far-too-cheerful voice roused Dottie from what had been a surprisingly peaceful sleep. She’d expected to toss and turn all night, but once Alice had climbed back into her own bed, sleep had come quickly and easily.
Which meant the exhaustion that had been dragging at her most of yesterday was now gone, and she had plenty of energy to roll her eyes at the woman with the high blonde ponytail and sparkling white smile. “What time is it?”
“Time to get up,” the woman answered, her smile not dimming in the least even as she tapped a wicked looking crop against her tall leather boots. “Let’s not dawdle. You’ve got a big day ahead of you!”
Irritation pricked at the base of Dottie’s skull. Everything about the woman seemed designed to grate on her nerves. Most especially, the fact that she wasn’t Uncle Luke.
“A big day of what? Eating grass and being milked?”
Across the room, Alice was dragging her hoof across her throat in a clear signal to cut it out, but Dottie didn’t care. Uncle Luke might have lulled her into compliance yesterday with his threats and explosive orgasms, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
Which had nothing to do with the knot in Dottie’s stomach. Nothing at all.
Lying gets you punished, little cow.
Ugh. How was he in her head already?
“No grass, but you do need to be milked. Little cows such as yourself need to be milked twice a day to stay happy and healthy.”
“Yeah, no, I’m good.” Wiggling back under the covers—a bit of a feat with her hooves on—Dottie rolled toward the wall and closed her eyes.
A moment later a cool breeze brushed over her skin as the covers were whisked away. “Since this is your first day, I’m going to give you one more chance to get up on your own. Come on, Dottie-girl. You don’t want to start your day with a welted flank, do you?”
She did not. But she also did not want to get up and subject herself to whatever it was Ranch Hand Barbie had up her sleeve.
“How about you go take care of Alice over there and leave me the fuck alone? I’ll wait for Un—for Luke.”
“MasterLucas is busy. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want me to call him in to deal with you.”
“Actually, that’s exactly what I want. So if you could go ahead and do that for me, that would be great.” Even if it meant beingpunished, at least it would be by him and not some complete stranger.
A sharp stinging sensation exploded across her right ass cheek. Squealing at the hot burst of pain, Dottie rolled over and glared up at her attacker. “What the fuck was that for?”
Barbie simply raised an eyebrow. “You are being a very naughty little cow. It’s time to get out of bed.”
“No. I will not.”
The crop swung toward her again, too fast for her to evade it. This time, the flap of leather stung the inside of her thigh, which was so much worse than her butt.
“Ow! Stop that!” Rubbing at the spot as best she could with her hooves on, she blinked back tears. She tried to tell herself they were just tears of anger, because Barbie really was pissing her off, but again she heard Uncle Luke’s voice in her head reminding her that lying would get her punished.
