Human Animals

by Kimmy Estrada

  "Yes." He doesn't blink. "I've grown rather fond of her. Also, since she is the first specimen, I think she would be the best demonstration model for my techniques. I really do want to build an entire industry around training young women."

  "As long as you know how to pick the right ones," Janet says.

  "What, what are you doing here?" I ask. The words just tumble from my lips.

  My little sister turns around, she puts her hand on the couch, and she smiles when she sees me. Her gaze sweeps over me. From my breasts to my pigtails to the collar around my neck, she studies me, smiling all the while.

  "Oh, it looks like someone woke up early. I really did think she was going to sleep right through this little meeting," Michael says, sounding apologetic. "I'm very sorry about this."

  "There is no reason to apologize," Janet says. "She was going to learn about this one way or the other."

  "What, what's going on?"

  Michael and Janet get up. They walk over to me. They stand close, so I retreat back, still down on my hands and knees. Since my sister is here, I should feel elated. I should be jumping up and down, pointing my finger right at Michael.

  Only there is a problem.

  "What's going on?" I demand.

  "You want to tell her or should I?" Michael asks.

  Janet doesn't answer. Instead, she reaches down, touching the underside of my chin. She forces me to look up at her. "I'm sorry you found out this way, but I really did need to get you out of the picture. You just wouldn't listen to me. You weren't willing to deal with your responsibilities, so I had to make a change. I found Michael here, and he needed a test subject. So I volunteered you."

  "She also funded this venture," Michael said, as though that needed to be stated. "Everything here is thanks to your sister."

  "No, that's, that's not possible!"

  For a moment, all of my arrogance, all of my confidence, and all of my strength surges back through my body. I jerk back, and I get up on my feet. It feels so good to stand, but I'm going to do more than that.

  Since I now know that Janet isn't out looking for me, it's up to me to get out of here.

  I make a break for the door, running hard. I make my way across the living room, and I hear them laughing at me. I get to the front door, only I can't open the knob right away. Before, I was calm, I could think clearly, so I knew how to take my time.

  Now, I'm anything but calm. I scramble to get the door open. It doesn't work. Worse, I can hear their footsteps.

  "Settle down, puppy."

  "Katrina, don't be a brat about this. I'm sure that this is all a shock, but Michael has taken very good care of you. He's going to treat you like the very best of pets, aren't you?"

  "Of course. She's my most prized possession."

  "You hear that? You're his most prized possession.” She utters those words like they are supposed to make this all better.

  "No! I'm not going to let you do this to me!" I hear a sigh. It comes from Michael, and then he utters the two words that can knock me down. "Sit, girl."

  The implant activates, and the strength immediately departs my limbs. My legs can no longer hold me up, so I stumble down, landing on my rump before rolling over onto my stomach. My sister and my keeper approach me.

  "Silly girl. You don't have to be upset about this. Just accept your place."

  "Never!"

  "Are you sure you're going to be able to break her?" Janet asks with just a hint of skepticism.

  Maybe if I can convince her that she will never be able to truly tame me, she will decide to let me go. That is my only hope. I get up onto my knees, and I look right at him. "Never. You're never, ever going to tame me! You're never going to convince me that I'm a dog."

  "Princess, before you saw your sister, you were halfway there."

  "I'm not going back!"

  Janet ignores my outburst. Instead, she turns back to my trainer. "Princess?"

  "Yes, important part of breaking down her personality is renaming her.”

  "Princess," Janet says, testing the word out for herself. "I like that. You know, I could have her legally renamed as Princess.”

  "If you like. Frankly, I'm never going to let her off of the leash again anyway. When she's outside, I wouldn't want her to run around unsupervised."

  They're talking about me like I'm not even in the room. And yet, I'm down on my knees, stuck between them. This is my little sister. I'm supposed to be able to manipulate her and tell her what to do. But here she is, in control.

  "Please, Janet, don't do this."

  "Shush, puppy." That's all she says to me. It feels like I've been slapped. Pressing my lips together, I don't know what to do, and I don't know what to say. My brain turns blank, like I can't think for myself.

  Swallowing, I go back to my defiance. "Look, I don't care what you guys do, but I'm never going to give in. I'm never going to be a dog!"

  "Yes, you are," Michael says. He grabs me by the back of my collar, and he pulls, dragging me back into the living room. He lifts me up and bends me over the couch. "In fact, you're going to show your sister just what kind of dog you can be."

  I'm about to tell him that he's wrong, that he's never going to win, only his hand flies down, striking my backside. A dozen conditioned responses shoot through me. After even just a few days, I know that I'm not going to be able to endure spanking. He strikes harder and harder. Every blow seems more intense than the last one.

  At the same time, Michael makes sure that he strikes different spots. There is no way for me to truly brace myself.

  Because it's my only option, I struggle to ride those currents of pain. I try to tell myself that they are only sensations, impulses jumping between nerves, but that doesn't work. Before I know it, the tears are running down my cheeks. I've never been punished like this before. I can't take it!

  Then it stops, he grabs me by my hair, and he looks down into my eyes. "Are you going to be a good little doggie?"

  "Arf, arf…” I replied. At this point, I will say anything to keep from getting spanked.

  "Good dog. There is a good little bitch. There's a very good, very dumb bitch."

  He pats me on the head. He stands up straight, and he looks down at me. "Show your sister that you can be a good doggie."

  Getting back on my haunches, I wait. I'm ashamed that I can't fight harder, but there's no way I can take another spanking. "Roll over."

  I do it. While my little sister watches, I roll over like a little doggie."

  "Beg."

  I do that too. I look up at her, tilting my head to the side. I hold out my paws like a good dog. Then I start whimpering, and she laughs at me. I'm her own sister, and she's laughing at me!

  "You see, she is a very good little doggie."

  "I agree. And as to your previous request, I have no problem giving her to you." Janet looks down into my eyes. "You had your chance to be a real person, but you couldn't handle it. So now you're going to be this nice man's dog. He's going to take good care of you, and I'm going to stop by to visit you every once in a while. Oh, and I'll send you pictures of me and Jacob. We started dating."

  She pats me on the head one more time, and then she leaves the room. "Puppy, get back up on the couch. Spread your legs."

  He's going to take me. As I'm shocked at losing my sister and my boyfriend and any chance of freedom, he wants to fuck me.

  Crawling, I assume the position. I actually spread my legs, and when he comes behind me, I'm actually ready for him. I close my eyes, and I embrace the only pleasure I can get now. This is going to be my life. I'm going to be a dog. So I started panting, wagging my hips as I wait for him to plunge forward. I don't have to wait long. He thrusts into me, and the solid girth of his cock is so good.

  If I continue to think, I'm only going to think about Janet and Jacob. I'm not going to be able to think about anything else. That's why I give up.

  Just like that, I surrender. I stop thinking. I act like a puppy, like a stupid d
og. It's so easy to simply be an animal.

  He pumps me, thrusting forward and back, taking what he wants. I know that he's enjoying this. That's all that matters because this man is my master.

  I'm not going to use his name anymore. This man is Master.

  "There's a good little doggie. Yes, you're a good little pet, aren't you? You're going to be such a good dog. You’re going to do tricks, and I'm going to show you off to all of my friends. They're going to have so much fun teasing you. Yes, they are."

  I can't block out the sounds, and I can't pretend that he is lying. He is telling me the truth, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  As the last of my frustrations give way, I simply experience every sensation racing through me. My ass is still stinging from the spanking, but those sensations are overridden by the feel of his shaft deep inside of me. He pulls back and thrusts forward. He shows me what a real man can do. He makes me feel like a dirty little doggie. But since I'm an animal, I don't need to care about that.

  "Good girl. Such a good girl."

  Michael claims the last of my dignity…he has already claimed my freedom, my independence, and my self-respect.

  Now I finally understand. I'm going to be his little doggie. I'm going to beg for treats, I will do tricks, and I will wait for him by the front door. My dream is about to become true.

  As he pumps me, I scream out, knowing that I've lost. As the pleasure cascades through me, I come hard. I whimper out, barking like a good little dog because I know that this is what would please my Master.

  The End

  Hucow Bell

  I peer up at him with big, desperate eyes. No, my gaze conveys, don’t do this! Please, not them! Don’t let them see me like this! But Eric has already turned away. He’s striding toward the door, so strong, so confident.

  He wasn’t like that when we first met, so I can’t help but think this is my fault.

  Before this happened, I would have blamed everyone else. I would have whined and shrieked about how I didn't deserve this. I would have insisted that this was someone else's fault.

  But because I'm down on the floor, naked, my udders bare, I know the truth. Besides, it's not like I'm allowed to speak. It's not like anyone would ever listen to me.

  I'm just a stupid cow, and people laugh at me. They poke me, they milk me, and they fuck me, but they never listen. Why would they? I'm only allowed to make one sound.

  Eric throws the doors open, holding out his arms. "Gentlemen, meet my ex girlfriend, Jessica."

  The guys come into the room, hooting and laughing. Only then, their eyes lock on to my body. Somehow, I can't bring myself to look up, not until I realize something. Just seconds before, they were flying around like a bunch of fraternity boys out on a Saturday night. But now, they are quiet.

  I lift my head, hoping that they will be merciful. Someone must realize that this is wrong. After all, I'm on display. Not only that, I'm obviously restrained. Down on my hands and knees, I can't move. Thick, leather straps are wrapped around my wrists, my elbows, my knees, and my ankles. Yes, I can sway from side to side, that only makes my breasts that much more prominent.

  Slowly, I lift my chin, hoping that someone in this room will decide that this is wrong. Only when I see these guys, I realize that they are smiling. They are smirking.

  Lifting my head somehow breaks the spell. They rush toward me. "Dude, I can't believe that you really did this. I can't believe she let you do this to her!"

  Instantly, I need to screech out, to tell them that I never allowed this. I didn't want to be transformed into a stupid, human cow! In my rush to throw a tantrum, I forget all about how I can't speak. Instead of insisting that I'm a real girl with rights, I make an entirely different sound.

  “Moooooo!”

  Right away, I start blushing. Humiliated, I try to turn my face away from them, but Eric’s friends circle me. One of them touches my head, roughly moving his palm along the curves of my scalp. Another guy pinches my ass.

  And then there is a third guy who goes for my breasts. He crouches down, touching them lightly.

  "Don't worry. She isn't delicate. Give her a squeeze. Just be careful. If you squeeze too hard, she will start to make a mess."

  "What you mean?"

  "She's a cow,” Eric tells his friends. "You can milk her."

  His friends go quiet again, glancing at one another.

  "Are you sure? I didn't think that was possible."

  "Trust me. It's very possible. Would you like to try?"

  His friends glance at one another. At the same time, I quickly turn my head from side to side, hoping to dissuade them. They must understand that I didn't want this to happen, that my body isn't supposed to be used like this. I'm not supposed to be some toy, a pet to be put on display for their amusement.

  And yet, one guy raises his arm.

  "Jack, grab the stool over there and pick up that bucket. Bring it over here.”

  Eric’s friend, Jack, quickly obeys. He grabs the stool from the corner along with a simple, metal bucket. He places the pail beneath one of my breasts.

  "Put your hands on her udder,” Eric starts.

  “Udder,” says one of his friends, and they all start laughing.

  Jack grabs me, and he squeezes, milking me. At first, I try to resist, thinking that maybe if I hold out long enough, they won't be able to win. And yet, this is biology. It has nothing to do with my willpower.

  Pretty soon, I can hear those droplets of milk squirt down, a ting-ting-ting against the metal. "Of course, if you really want to make her lactate, you should get her nice and wet."

  "You're kidding," says another one of his friends, obviously skeptical.

  "Go ahead. Finger her."

  I jerk my head from side to side again. Silently, I try to convey my desperation. At another point in my life, I would have tried to flirt my way out of this situation. Before this all happened, I was the kind of girl who never got any speeding tickets. Even in school, I didn't need to worry about my grades, not when I could easily flirt my way to an A.

  But here, these men don't want to hear what I have to say. Instead, they are so much more interested in playing with me.

  Another one of Eric’s friends comes up behind me. He reaches out, slowly stroking my opening. Strapped down on my hands and knees, I can't resist. I can't bring my legs together. My pussy is open, vulnerable.

  "Nice," he says. I can picture him nodding, as though he's enjoying some fine wine. He fingers me again, stroking me. Almost immediately, I get wet. "She's really responsive. Seriously, look at this." Eric's friends go over to admire my moist slit.

  And then, that same guy presses his fingers ether into my slit. Hot arousal spreads over my skin. I bow my head down, but there is that other guy, Jack, and he is squeezing, forcing me to lactate.

  Just as Eric predicted, the stream of milk becomes stronger. "It's working. Get her hot. Make this cow really wet!"

  When I moan, it sounds like another “Moooooo!” At the same time, I close my eyes, doing my best to hide in a better memory, a time before this all happened. Somehow, I end up thinking about how my ex-boyfriend turned me into a barnyard pet.

  Ever since I was a little girl, I knew that I was special. From preschool to middle school, all of the adults always told me I was gorgeous. They said I was beautiful, the prettiest little girl.

  Sure, pretty much every girl hears those words at one point or another. But I could tell that there was something different about me. Somehow, I had an instinct for cute.

  When I hit puberty, my suspicions were confirmed. All of a sudden, men couldn't help but stare at me. Even my teachers would glance at me, and I could feel their desires. They would hide it, of course. They would pretend that they didn't notice my perfect breasts, my small waist, my flat stomach, or my perfectly shaped bottom. They would all be very professional, but they couldn't help themselves.

  Little by little, I figured out what buttons to push. If I wanted the hot
test guy to break up with his girlfriend and go out with me, I just needed to touch them lightly, to put my hand on his shoulder or forearm. I would laugh at his jokes, and I would twist my fingers through my soft, blonde hair.

  Guys couldn't help themselves.

  At the same time, I became hotter and hotter.

  Yeah, that made me seem conceited, but it was true. As I made my way from middle school to high school, I learned about makeup. I figured out what colors and style choices worked best for me. I learned how to dress in just the right way.

  Other girls just turned into sluts. Not me.

  No, I figured out how to tantalize the guys in my class. I would show them just enough to make them yearn for more. Even when I dated, I seldom did more than make out with my boyfriend.

  But here's the thing. After high school, I decided that I wanted someone better. That's when I met Eric.

  He was a really sweet guy. Rich too.

  Lots of guys born to money become incredibly arrogant. They think that because they have a big bank account or an impressive trust fund that they can get away with whatever they want. Those are the guys who usually end up cheating.

  Eric was different.

  Normally, I would have skipped over a guy like Eric. Sure, he was attractive enough with his dark brown hair and smoothly shaved cheeks. He looked like he worked out a little bit, but he wasn't the usual kind of alpha guy I went for.

  In fact, I kept tossing in these sultry glances. Most men would have immediately walked over to me, offering to buy me a drink. Not Eric. No, he kept hanging out with his friends, chatting and laughing. Actually, it was kind of adorable. We kept making eye contact, and I knew that he really wanted to come say hello, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

  In some ways, it felt a little bit like middle school again.

  Just as I was about to have one of the bar’s servers bring him a note, Eric steeled his courage, and he walked over to me. He almost tripped once or twice. His heart must've been pounding. His cheeks were certainly flushed.

  When he came up to me, he started stuttering. "Hi—I mean, hello—or Hi—look, I’m Eric.” He kept watching me, tense. He probably figured I was going to reject him. After all, that happens to lots of guys. And I was pretty freaking gorgeous in my tight, little red dress.