Julian was Quinn’s boss, at a small accounting firm, and it always amazed Julian how completely Quinn was unable to resist her submissive streak, even when it humiliated her.
She was pretty, but she wasn’t bright, so Julian had taken to calling her a “cow” whenever she made a mistake. It made her blush, but even the first time he said it, she had said, “Yes, sir, I am a cow, I am sorry, sir.”
He developed the theme. He would ask her if she had been “thinking with her slutty cow udders again”. He would call her to the office to explain her latest error and then have her apologise by making loud “moo” noises, that the whole office could hear.
It climaxed one night when her ineptitude had caused him to need to work almost four hours overtime. Alone in the office with her, he made her start mooing like the stupid cow she was, and then roughly pulled her large tits out of her dress. She flinched but made no move to run away or stop mooing, so he began to squeeze them, and then slap them roughly with his hand.
She gasped, and blushed, but stayed still, mooing, her hands by her sides, and let him keep hitting and slapping her bare fuckmelons. He hit them harder, slapping, spanking, and as he did Quinn’s face flushed and her breathing came quicker. Her legs wobbled, and it was clear she was becoming deeply aroused by her treatment.
Finally, as bruises started to show on her poor abused melons, he grabbed her and pushed her roughly down on his desk, lifted her skirt, pushed aside her panties, and sank his cock into her dripping wet pussy. He fucked her until they had both orgasmed, then backed away and put his cock back in his pants.
“Leave your tits out until you get home,” he told her, “to remind you what you are. Let my cum drip down your legs. I expect you back at work on time tomorrow.”
She nodded submissively and left.
The next morning the name plate on her desk had been replaced with a new one that said “Cow Tits”. She was called to her boss’ office.
“You have a new duty, Quinn,” he told her. “You’re going to come to my office each night before going home, and you’re going to have those stupid cow udders of yours spanked like we did last night. A girl as stupid as you deserves to have her tits in pain every day.”
“Yes, sir,” Quinn said, blushing.
“And there’s something else you need to do,” he said. “Every morning before work, and every night after you go home while your tits are still sore, I want you to spend half an hour in your bathroom looking at your breasts in the mirror and milking them. You won’t produce any milk at first, but if you keep stimulating them it will come in eventually. Then you’ll be a proper cow. It will make your tits bigger. it will make them leak embarrassingly into your shirt. You’ll need to be milked regularly or it will become uncomfortable. And it will make your tits more sensitive overall, so it will hurt more when I spank them. Won’t that be nice, Quinn?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her face already flushed with humiliation and arousal.
“Good cow,” he told her, smiling as he reached down the front of her dress to casually pinch her nipple cruelly…
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