Tayla hated Edward Rutman from the moment she met him.
He came home about ten minutes before Bessie was ready to serve the dinner, and Tayla had to admit that he was a very handsome man. Perhaps only a year older than Tayla, he was fit, good-looking in a rugged country way, and dressed in an impeccable and expensive business suit. His russet hair was closely cropped in a fashionable modern style, and his confident smile was framed by a short, well-groomed beard.
He came in without knocking, and called out, “Mom! Pops! I’m home!” as he hung his jacket on a rack by the entrance. Then he spotted Tayla, who was at that moment setting the table for dinner, and his grin widened.
“And who are *you*?” he asked. His eyes were fixed with avid fascination on Tayla’s tits.
Bessie bustled out from the kitchen, and embraced her son with a hug.
“This is Tayla,” she said. “She’s an out-of-towner, and she’s been a little slut and got knocked up, and she tried to have an abortion, so your father’s going to be looking after her until she’s had her baby.”
Edward approached Tayla, and reached out one hand to touch her hair. Tayla flinched, but was unable to completely pull away from him.
“Blonde hair,” said Edward. “Pale skin. You’re a pretty one, aren’t you, Snowball?”
“My name’s Tayla,” said Tayla brusquely, turning her head to try and pull her hair out of his grasp.
Edward tightened his grip. “I’m sure it is,” he said. “Tell me, Snowball, is this your first time breeding?”
Tayla’s face twisted in a scowl. “I’m not ‘breeding’,” she spat. “I’m pregnant. And your father is keeping me as a prisoner. It’s against the law!”
Edward’s smile had a cruel twist to it. “Not here it’s not,” he said. “Here we do things the right way.” Then, without warning, he yanked yard on her hair. Tayla squealed, and lost her balance, and fell to her knees. He laughed – and when he laughed, Bessie laughed along with him, a nervous laugh as though she were afraid of what might happen if she didn’t.
Edward then pulled her face forward by her hair until she was right up against the crotch of his pants. Her cheek rested against the material. She could feel the bulge of an erection pressing against her.
“And if you’re going to be living here, I’d advise you not to piss me off, Snowball,” said Edward quietly. “I work as assistant to the mayor, and some day I’m going to run this town, and you’d do best to keep me happy. And that means not badmouthing my father, do you understand?”
Tayla was scared, and trapped. “Yes,” she said, in a small voice.
“Yes, what?” asked Edward.
“Yes, sir,” said Tayla. She felt stupid, calling a man practically the same age as her “sir”, but she had no real choice.
“Good girl,” said Edward. “Now show you’re sorry with a kiss.”
Tayla initially didn’t understand. Kiss him? She didn’t want to do that – and anyway, how could she? He was still holding her hair tightly, and she couldn’t stand up.
But then she realised he didn’t expect her to kiss his *face*.
She felt like she might cry.
Shaking, she turned her head slightly, and then lightly kissed her abuser on his cock, pressing her lips against the fabric of his pants, right where the tip of his dick was tenting them.
“Good girl,” said Edward, laughing – and he finally released her hair, allowing her to pull away, and awkwardly rise to her feet. “Even the dumbest cow can learn to behave, if given the right incentive.”
“I’m not a cow,” said Tayla, sullenly – and then had to suppress the urge to flinch, expecting to receive retribution for her defiance.
But there was none. Edward ignored her. “Is there a coffee ready for me?” he asked his mother.
Bessie jumped, as if shocked. “No,” she said, sounding afraid. “I forgot! But I’ll go make one.”
Edward nodded. “See that you do,” he said.
As Bessie hurried back to the kitchen, Sheriff Rutman emerged from the corridor that led to the bedrooms. He had changed out of his work uniform into a casual shirt and trousers. “Welcome home, son,” he said, shaking Edward’s hand. “Good day at the office?”
“A long day,” said Edward. “That bitch the mayor keeps as a secretary is incompetent. I had to kick her in the cunt on three separate occasions to get her to do her job properly.”
“Well, you know women aren’t the smartest creatures,” said Rutman. “Have you met our new breeder?”
“Absolutely,” said Edward, smiling. “Snowball and I were becoming good friends.”
“Glad to hear it,” said the Sheriff.
At that point, Bessie returned from the kitchen, carrying a mug of hot coffee. She got down on her knees, and held it up to her son submissively.
Edward took it, and looked at Tayla. “Milk,” he ordered.
Tayla was confused. She looked around, and then started towards the kitchen – but the Sheriff grabbed her by one hand, and then slapped her lightly across the face with his other.
“Not like that,” he growled.
Tayla didn’t understand what Edward wanted – and then she realised that both Edward and his father were staring at Tayla’s tits, and suddenly she *did* understand.
“I’m not…” she said, anxiously. “I don’t… I’m not lactating.”
“Try,” said Edward, in a cold voice.
Tayla made a moan of distress. They couldn’t really expect her to take out her breasts and try and squeeze them into Edward’s coffee, could they? It was ridiculous.
But they did. They were all looking at her.
She moaned again, paralysed with humiliation and fear.
In her head a small, hypnotic voice said, “No, don’t touch your udders. Bad girl.”
Finally, Edward put his mug down on the dining table, then stepped towards Tayla, and roughly pulled up the front of her tight shirt, to expose her breasts. He grabbed her left tit in a firm grip, and used it to yank her towards the table. Tayla cried out, and stumbled, only just managing to keep her balance.
Then Edward pulled her breast down towards his mug, and squeezed it, hard enough to make Tayla want to cry.
Nothing came out, exactly as Tayla had known would happen.
Edward squeezed it again, and again, and then pinched and pulled at her nipple.
He sighed. “Very well, then.” He let go of Tayla briefly, raised his left foot on the nearest dining chair, and removed his leather shoe. Then he grabbed Tayla’s tit again and pulled downwards, until Tayla fell to her knees, her breast resting on the cool wooden surface of the table.
“Masturbate,” he told her. “It will hurt less.”
Tayla still didn’t understand what was happening – and she certainly didn’t intend to masturbate, right here, in front of three people. She struggled a little, but Edward’s grip on her breast was firm.
“Very well, it’s your choice,” said Edward, noting her refusal to follow his suggestion. Then he looked Tayla in the eyes, smiled – and brought the heel of his shoe down hard on her breast – SMACK – and again, and again – SMACK, SMACK.
Tayla had never felt such pain in her breasts. She shrieked, and the Sheriff had to step forward and put his hand across her mouth to muffle her.
Edward looked at her, still holding the shoe. “I’m going to ask for milk with breakfast, and tomorrow with dinner, and with breakfast the day after that, and I’m going to repeat this little punishment until you produce milk,” he told her. “I expect you to be a good little cow and start lactating.”
“It’s best for your baby if you start producing milk often and early,” said the Sheriff, next to her, in a calm, sensible voice.
Tayla could do nothing except weep. She wanted to clutch at her bruised tit – but her hands seemed oddly reluctant to do it.
“Say thank you, Snowball,” said Edward.
Tayla opened her mouth to speak – but found herself coughing, her throat choked with tears. And then she realised that that wasn’t how Edward wanted to be thanked anyway.
She didn’t want to do it. But her tits were still exposed, and he was still holding the shoe.
She leaned forward, and kissed the tip of Edward’s cock through his pants – softly, almost lovingly, eager to get it right on the first try and avoid having her tits beaten with the shoe again.
“Thank you,” she managed to whisper, when she had sufficiently kissed her abuser’s cock.
“Good girl,” smiled Edward.
As Tayla watched, Bessie stepped forward, and leaned over Edward’s coffee, her massive exposed tits hanging downwards towards the mug. Edward grabbed his mother’s boob, and squeezed – and fresh milk squirted from Bessie’s nipple into the mug.
Bessie made a noise as her tit was squeezed – an almost involuntary “mooo”, like a cow. Her face reddened with a pretty blush.
“Thank you, mother,” said Edward. “You’re a good role model for Snowball here.”
“Now that that’s taken care of,” said the Sheriff, “why don’t we all sit down and enjoy the dinner that Bessie has cooked us?” He looked at Tayla. “And Snowball here can tell us all about just exactly how she got knocked up like that…”