Isabelle could see the room more clearly now. It was large, wide and circular. Lucien had mentioned his home was a chateau. She’d seen a picture of it once at a family gathering. One of his cousins had showed it to her when it was featured in a magazine in an interview he had done. It was a large white house dotted with a pattern of red brick. It had tall wide towers con each of the four corners. The room she was in now was more than likely a room in one of the towers. Decorated in blue and white silks and damasks it reminded her of a Princess’s tower room. As if to confirm her idea, one wall was decorated with wallpaper depicting a pink castle, a young brave knight and a beautiful blonde haired princess. Accompanying them were a dragon and a host of pretty male and female fairies. The scene caught her imagination and made her remember being a child in her house in the country with her mother and father before the accident. That room had been white and pink . . . before the accident. The memory brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them away quickly but they had not been missed. Even though Lucien and Christian did not mention their presence they viewed her with concern. It was as though by remaining silent they were prompting her to speak and tell them everything. Her guard tightened. She might be beginning to feel safe but she had to keep a rein on the truth for all of their sakes.
She could see that there was a large super king size four-poster bed against the opposite wall clothed in white silk. A Persian rug lay in front of it making her think of the Magic carpet rides she used pretend she was having on her mother’s rug on the lounge. She’d sat on it with all of her teddies and travelled to far off lands. In one corner was the crib large enough to take an adult. It had a high back covered in white satin trimmed with pink. Not far away from it was a large cupboard and a chest of drawers with baby supplies on top, including the dreaded diapers. The chair in which she sat was placed between two Georgian paned windows and it appeared to be a nursing chair. Isabelle realised the room had been purposely built to house a female adult child.
Her thoughts were distracted when a knock at the door was answered by Christian. A maid handed him a tray with a child’s bowl filled with pureed food and a plastic spoon. Isabelle’s eyes widened with surprise. He put the tray down on a small trestle table and moved to the chest of drawers to pull out a pink bib. Isabelle shuffled uneasily on Lucien’s lap. His hold on her tightened sensing her anxiety.
Christian picked up the bowl and spoon and pulled up the stool that matched the chair and handed Lucien the bib.
“Please I don’t need a bib. I am a grown woman,” Isabelle protested.
“Do as your told and make sure you eat all of your food or you will be over my knee receiving a paddling to your bottom this time,” Lucien warned glancing at the paddle on the small table next to him. Her eyes followed. “You have refused to eat for long enough. I understand your mouth and throat are dry from nervous tension but this food is broken down so you can eat it. It will slide down easily. Now be a good girl and do as papa tells you.”
Lucien put the bib around her neck and Isabelle made sure she did not protest again, eyeing the fierce black paddle Lucien threatened to strike her vulnerable bare bottom with apprehension.
“Yes, papa.”
Christian dipped the spoon in to the orange puree, scooping up some of it. He held it to her lips and like a good girl she opened her mouth and allowed him to slip it inside. It tasted of spaghetti, mince and tomatoes. The food slid easily down her throat. Although the texture was strange and alien it was not unpleasant she ate every spoonful Christian fed her heartily.
“Very good,” Christian smiled and kissed her cheek. “You ate all of your food. Now you need some fresh milk.”
Lucien dabbed gently at her mouth with the end of the clean bib.
“No, papa, please I don’t like milk.”
“Do as your told and no arguments,” Christian warned.
“I will see to the milk. Take Isabelle and keep her calm on your knee. I think we may have a fight on our hands when we try to feed her the milk.”
Lucien stood up with her in his arms and handed her wrapped in the white and pink trimmed blanket. He handed her so carefully and gently to Christian making her feel as though she was as precious as a babe in arms. She snuggled against Christian face loving the bristle of his designer stubble against her cheek. It made him hold her tighter. He sat down with her in the chair and trailed his finger along her cheekbone bending to brush her lips with a kiss.
Isabelle watched Lucien observe them for a moment, his eyes clouding with jealousy and dark possession when they came to rest upon her face. Isabelle felt a primal urge for him to take her firmly, forcefully, powerfully, thrusting inside her to the hilt until she surrendered her pleasure in his arms and became his. But when she looked up at Christian the feeling and wish was equally as potent. Could she really want both of them to make her their own.
She heard Lucien take a breath and then turn and walk to the cupboard and take out a baby bottle. Alarm filled her mind tensing her body.
There was another rap at the door and the strange noise of bells ringing. They sounded like cow bells. Two men in black suits stood outside. As Lucien opened the door wide Isabelle was shocked to see that accompanying them were two very attractive blonde women naked on all fours crawling beside them. They each wore a leather collar with a brass cowbell hanging beneath them. A chain was attached to each collar and held by both of the darkly authoritative and handsome young men leading them in to the room.
But what attracted more of Isabelle’s attention more in the strange spectacle was the size of the women’s breasts. They must have at least been an H - cup and they looked heavy and swollen with milk.
Lucien turned and looked at Isabelle and smiled. He spoke softly.
“Time to get some nice fresh milk straight from the udder inside you and then you’ll sleep right through the night, baby girl.”
Chapter 13
Isabelle stared at him open mouthed. Christian gave a chuckle and tucked his fingers underneath her chin making and lifted upwards making her close it. The two men guided the women in to the room by the chains and a tap on their bottoms from the end of a riding crop. The women crawled obediently, their heavy breasts hanging low to the ground ready to spill milk any moment.
Lucien placed a mat on top of the Persian rug and with two strikes to the human cow’s pale white bottoms from the riding crops they moved and came to rest upon it in a line. Another knock at the door startled Isabelle. A further man entered the room carrying two heavy cases. He set them down on the bed opened them up and left.
Lucien approached Isabelle carrying an empty baby bottle.
“Would you like to meet the cows, little Isabelle?” he asked tucking her under the chin.
She shook her head nervous of the whole scene.
“Come on, little girl. There is nothing to be afraid of,” he reassured pulling the blanket away from her body exposing the see through pink baby doll nightdress and the diaper. Christian stood carrying her and set her feet down on the floor. They each took hold of one of her hands and led her to the cow.
Isabelle felt heat rush to her cheeks. The five men in the room were all fully dressed. Three of them were in suits with her protectors in their jeans and shirts. They dominated the room exuding masculine power making her feel fragile and vulnerable in her semi-clothed state yet there was a warmth building between her thighs. She felt truly dominated and liked it. The two beautiful human cows must feel the same way she concluded looking at the content look on their faces.
The man holding the chain of the long dark haired woman bent down and brushed his fingers the length of her spine then splayed his large male palm across her buttock and cupped it. He gave it a gentle squeeze and caressed the pale white flesh rhythmically.
“Come and touch Bella. Feel how soft the cow’s skin is,” the young attractive short dark haired man encouraged her.
Lucien and Christian led her forward and let go of her hands. With a trembling hand she
bent forgetting she was exposing her own breasts to the man’s full view and touched the human cow. Growing more confident she stroked her fingers along her side feeling how soft and downy her skin was to the touch. The cow had been well moisturised and cared for.
“Lie on your back, Bella and let little Isabelle play with you a while,” he instructed firmly pulling on her chain to make the cow roll over. The other cow was being fed some sort of treat by the other man. He held his cupped hand up to her mouth and her pink tongue flicked out to gather them up and take them in to her mouth. He brushed her hair with a loving kiss. Isabelle was captivated by the submission of the beautiful women fulfilling the role of a human cow.
Christian guided her to caress the cow’s stomach. Her great breasts did not flatten against her chest and the dark teats pointed upwards. Isabelle felt a sudden uncontrollable urge to flex her fingers over the nipple to stretch its elasticity. She wanted to cup and hold one of the breasts and test its full weight. She trailed a finger along the cow’s stomach, circling her belly button unable to tear her eyes away from the cow’s breasts.
The man, Lucien referred to as Stefan moved a finger back and forth over one of the rubbery peaks. The cow surprised Isabelle by issuing a soft mooing whisper from her lips. Stefan smiled.
“You will be ready to let down your milk very soon, won’t you Bella. But I think we need to play with you a little more first.”
He removed his fingers and gently sank them between the cow’s pussy lips. Isabelle could see just how soaking wet the cow was between her thighs. For a moment she was hypnotised watching Stefan caress the small bud and thick plump lips of the cow’s pussy.
“Don’t be afraid to touch and explore, Bella and Bluebell,” Stefan told her turning to his colleague who nodded and tugged on Bluebell’s chain to make her roll over on to her back.
Isabelle enthralled by the experience knelt down. She was now conscious of the two men scrutinising her own large breasts through the nightdress. She curved her hand around Bella’s breast barely able to hold its full size in her palm. The skin was so tight and smooth. She jiggled it a little and was sure she felt the milk moving inside. Intrigued by the fact the woman did not look as though she had recently been pregnant she placed her thumb over the teat. Triumph surged through her unexpectedly when the cow smiled up at her through pouting cherry lips and softly mooed. Isabelle began to squeeze the breast wondering if milk would begin dribbling out of the nipple and down the cow’s chest.
Stefan spoke about her own milky mounds.
“Isabelle has healthy large round and pert breasts, Lucien. She will be a good milker should you choose to make her. Her hips are more than suitable for child bearing. She’ll breed well when put to a bull,” he said with confidence.
Lucien grinned holding Bluebell’s breast in his hand when Isabelle gave a small indignant gasp.
“Yes she will,” he answered. “I have already begun stimulating milk production in her breasts through her food. She will be letting down the first of her milk by tomorrow morning. I want Isabelle to see and feel the majesty of her body as it nourishes - a body she is inclined to hate,” he gave her a disapproving look. “Once she has been milked I am hoping she will only see the beauty of her own womanly form.”
To her frustration there was sense in his words.
“You should not hate your body, Isabelle,” the other man told her as he knelt and caressed Bluebell’s silky thigh and her wet glistening sex he opened like a ripe pink fruit to examine. “You are beautiful, full breasted and curved. I think a little time on all fours being milked twice a day coupled with some firm discipline applied to your bottom and both Lucien and Christian will have you thinking otherwise. When you feel your breasts fill with milk for the first time and they make you let it down you will feel a sense of peaceful submission and glory in your own body.”
Christian stroked his finger across the tip of her breast sending darts of fire down her stomach through to her sex and dampening it. He continued to caress her nipple to tautness silencing any protest she cared to make.
“I agree. I am looking forward to seeing her milk flow freely from her nipples and having the first taste,” he said kissing her shoulder. “The breast expansion medication and her production of milk makes a woman feel constantly aroused and sensitive to a man’s touch. It is the ultimate female submission. I can barely wait.”
“There’s nothing like seeing a woman on all fours yearning to be milked and brought to satisfaction and obedience by a firm male hand,” Lucien said holding Bluebell’s other breast to nip and pinch the teat.
At first Isabelle was horrified. But Christian’s caress was persuasive. She envisioned herself on all fours, her breasts dribbling with milk whilst Lucien and Christian forcefully milked her like a cow. Despite reason telling her it was wrong her sex flooded with desire.
Stefan began to insert two of his fingers inside Bella and pumped them gently. He gripped the side of her buttock and squeezed making the cow moo loudly.
“I think our cows need to come, Marc, then they will be primed for milking,” Stefan said bending his head to sweep the tip of his tongue lightly over Bella’s clit. He whipped it back and forth still keeping his finger inside her channel. His partner followed suit.
Christian reached to squeeze the cow’s other breast and squeezed in time with Isabelle’s movement.
“Please pinch and pull at the cow’s udders,” Stefan instructed.
Isabelle watched Christian and Lucien pull and tug at the nipples, pinching them cruelly as the cows began to buck and moo loudly. Wantonly she did the same enthralled by the power she and the men exerted over the lovely creatures and the pleasure they took from it. However strange and surreal it all was to her.
Stefan began to probe his tongue inside the cow and out. Every move he made his partner matched, their tongues lashing and probing the cows feverishly. The men gripped their buttocks and squeezed.
“She’s ready,” Stefan whispered suddenly. The cow’s bucking had become furious against his tongue. He raised his hand and slapped one of her buttocks twice.
“Come now,” he ordered. “I want your milk coming now.”
The cow gave a helpless moo as her orgasm broke. Bluebell was to follow quickly. Both men sucked, nipped and tugged at the cow’s clits sending them in to a frenzy of delicious wet pleasure. As their orgasm’s reached their peak both cow’s udders began to drip with milk. Isabelle stared at the droplets of milk spitting on to her to her fingers in hand with amazement.
When their orgasms were spent the men quickly turned the lactating women over and reached for the milking machines in the cases. Attached to each one was a clear gathering bottle. Stefan and his colleague began to squeeze their cow’s breasts, stretching the nipple and pulling it down to the floor. More milk dripped out on to the mat.
“Good. Let’s get the cups on them,” Stefan said reaching for his own milking machine and the suction cups.
They placed the cups on the cow’s udders and switched on their machines. A hum and sucking sound filled the room. Isabelle watched the transparent cups pull on the udders, stretching them, pumping the milk from them. The cows mooed as their milk flowed steady, full, thick and creamy through the clear tube and in to the gathering bottle. The women moved their breast with the sucking and their hips their arousal clearly renewed by the milking machines’ control of their bodies as it forcefully milked their breasts.
Isabelle felt a strong ache develop between her thighs at the sight. Christian draped the blanket around her making her stand. He lifted her up in to his arms and sat back down in the chair with her. Lucien stood next to him holding the empty baby bottle patiently waiting for the fresh milk to be given.
Christian slipped his hand down her stomach and down the diaper. She breathed hard when she felt his fingers brush the small neat triangle of curls covering her sex. She was already wet when his fingers ran the length of her pussy, coating them thickly.
“
Oh baby girl, you are so wet you must be aching. Let papa get rid of that ache for you and make it all better.”
Isabelle felt him pull at her clit and nip it between his fingers. She gave a shocked cry at the sharp pain but it was doused by a rush of dampness. He began to nuzzle at her neck finding the entrance to her channel and moving his finger up inside her.
“Bluebell is not producing enough milk,” Marc sounded frustrated. “I have had some trouble with her recently. She needs to be put to the bull for breeding and tamed with motherhood. She holds her milk back.”
“Give her an incentive then. I have found a good paddling or whipping usually gets her milk flowing,” Stefan offered.
Marc picked up the riding crop he first held when he came in to the room. He took hold of the chain fixed to Bluebell’s collar and pulled it.
“I will have your obedience, Bluebell. Give up your milk,” he demanded in a dark tone.
Christian thrust his finger up Isabelle’s velvet channel, curving his finger upwards to her G-spot. She moved her pelvis against his fingers beginning to pant. But her attention was quickly diverted by a hard thwacking noise. She turned to see Marc raising the riding crop to strike Bluebell’s buttocks hard. His strokes were powerful reddening the human’s cow’s pale white bottom. She mooed loudly and on her fourth strike her milk began to flow more freely down the tube to pour in to the gathering bottle.
Christian thrust faster inside Isabelle as she watched Marc pick up his stride whipping the girl’s bottom and the backs of her thighs making her yield her milk. Marc was a strong dominant male mastering the woman in to obedience. Isabelle wanted to feel mastered by Lucien and Christian. Her mind was appalled but her body craved their rule of it so much so she felt her orgasm blossom as though to confirm it. Her muscles clenched around Christian’s fingers and spent their pleasure to the sounds of the cow’s whipping and the hum of the breast milking machine.
Protecting Isabelle Page 10