He sat in his opulent home stroking his brow thoughtfully. His stubbled chin betrayed the amount of time he had spent here, planning, thinking and preparing for his next move.
Finally, he stood. His naked form impressive in the half light of the pre-dawn hours, muscular thighs and toned stomach accentuated by the flickering candlelight. He paced up and down the room, his toes curling into the thick rug as he turned and walked in another direction. One hand tracing circles upon his lightly haired chest, the other still rubbing his temple.
He had been consumed by the desire to own a slave who he could turn into a human cow. He wanted to squeeze her and use her breasts as not only receptacles for whatever torture he could devise but also as udders. He wanted her degraded, cowbell round her neck as she knelt, feeling him manipulate her milk filled teats and forcing the white liquid out of them.
But how?
He had kept many women here over the years, some willingly and some not so but never had he been so fixated on one overriding need. He usually enjoyed all the horrors he could inflict upon them and he was sure he still would but this was the ultimate fantasy and though he knew he had the money to make it happen, he was still unsure whether it was worth the investment and how to go about acquiring such a girl.
Still pacing up and down he made the decision. He would not trust his usual sources, he would find the perfect milk-maid himself.
Reaching over to the beige sofa, he whipped up his black silk shirt and began to put it on. He felt the smooth, cool material flow over his arms, nibbles and abs and smiled grimly. It was as though this shirt was trying to douse the fire that was within him but he knew that within moments, it would be as hot as he was; an accomplice in what he was to do today.
He hastily located his jeans and began sliding them up his thighs. It was only then that he was made aware of the hard rod jutting out in front of him and upon seeing it; he knew he would need to do something about it. He needed a cool head to see this plan through.
Stepping out of his jeans, he flopped back into the deep seated sofa, watching his cock twitch as he changed position. He was sometimes a little aroused by his manhood but not for its own sake, more as a monument of man overpowering the weak woman. He knew he was very well endowed and that it hurt the little bitches he brought to his home as he entered them and he was glad.
Taking his cock firmly in his right hand, he groaned slightly as he moved the foreskin up and over the bulging helmet. It felt as though he had been hard for days – and perhaps he had – thinking and dreaming of his human cow. His mind turned to the plans for instruments of torture to use on their milk producing mountains and his stroke quickened. His hand became slick with pre-cum as he worked his rock hard cock with the deftness of practice. The veins on his shaft stood out, making his meat look all the more impressive. The image of a bound slave-cow dripping from the nipples as he wanked in her face sent him over the edge. His groans filled the large room as he moved his hand up and down, firmly pumping all of his precious seed out and over his shirt and fingers.
He sat panting for a while, bathing in the glow of orgasm. His hand still on his cock, he looked at the sticky strands in wonder... Never before had any fantasy constantly caused him to shoot so much semen and he liked it. It made his plans all the more worthwhile.
He removed his shirt and walked swiftly through the house to a downstairs bathroom to take a shower. It was huge – as were most of the rooms in his home – and had a custom made bath that accommodated his 6 foot 4 frame easily, allowing him to lie down fully and immerse himself in the soothing water.
Turning to his right, there was a luxurious shower fitted into the marble wall and he stepped into it, relishing the splash of cool water on his hot body, rinsing the remnants of cum from his fingers and cleaning himself thoroughly.
Eventually, he stepped out and dried himself before striding naked through the house in pursuit of suitable clothing. He settled on another silken top, but this time in a pale blue which brought out the blue in his eyes and coupled it with dark trousers that accentuated the curve of his muscular arse.
Looking at his reflection in the mirror; he smiled. What milk titted wench could resist him now?
He grabbed his keys on the way out of the house and locked the door, his feet crunching on gravel as he made his way to his sports car. Getting in, he started the engine, put on his sunglasses and glanced at his face in the rear view mirror, smiling again as he saw his stubbled and strong jaw, straight white teeth and deceptively kindly face.
He pulled off and was soon speeding down country lanes to the nearest city...
***************
By the time he arrived and parked, it was almost 11am. The perfect time to begin his search! He went into various hotels that he knew held the women he craved – those on minimum wage, forced to wait on the rich and snobby. As he went in the bars, he scanned the staff for his ideal milking slave. Weighing up the size of their breasts against the rest of their body, judging whether they would look good streaked in various bodily fluids, dishevelled and frightened. Whether they would be a challenge or easily broken.
After about five trips, he finally saw someone he kind of liked. She had dark hair that would fall just below her shoulders – ideal for hair bondage or for yanking her into place – which was currently tied back in the mandatory bun of a female employee. Her breasts must have been a C-cup which was perfect for forced lactation, they would be firm now and yet pliable, giving him the pleasure of that essential movement as a whip struck them. Her waist was fairly small and her hips ample, leading him to another thought – perhaps she could eventually be bred too...
He could not tell the shape of her arse or legs in the long and unflattering skirt she wore but overall, her appearance was pleasing to him. He caught her eye and lowered his glasses, removing them as she approached and flashing her one of his most charming smiles. She spoke, instantly shattering the illusion, her voice was high and whiny, and not one he wanted to hear pleading with him.
He asked for the bill, paid and moved on.
He glanced at his watch, it was now three pm and he wanted to have a girl in mind before the end of the day so that he could begin to set his plans in motion. He loitered outside the hotel, for a moment unsure of where to go next and then it struck him – he would go to the next gay bar. He liked breaking in a girl who was unused to cock and loved how it humiliated them to serve him.
He headed off and came to one of his old haunts. As he entered the dim room, he noticed that the decor had changed since his last visit a little over 8 years ago when he had procured his first lesbian at the tender age of 26. She had been a feisty one and he had greatly enjoyed using her for the time they were together. In the end, she had begged not to be released but he had had enough, it was time for a new slave and new depravities.
