Good Cowboy [fm] [Fdom] [huml] [bdsm]

G was exactly the type of girl referred to in the saying “don’t stick your dick in crazy”. She was absolutely crazy, but this was not always immediately apparent to everyone. Maybe this was because she was also insanely attractive in a conventional way, leading to so many males discarding all of their rational thinking upon seeing her cute, busty little body and doll face. Due to this, those who crossed paths with her often ended up with very unusual fates.

She may have not been the brightest, but she could just wear a low cut top and sleep with a different guy every day if she wanted to, which was all the power she needed. But instead, she was on a constant mission to finding “the right guy”. Of course, the breakup was always his fault, and often based on nothing but “bad feelings”, suspicions or gossip. She would then often punish those who she thought had wronged her in strangely creative ways.

One such case was her short relationship with M. They had met at a friend’s house party and she ended up giving him a blowjob in a wardrobe. Their relationship went on for a few weeks, until she noticed M exchanging certain emojis with a mutual female friend, which she did not quite approve of. She didn’t bring it up, as she believed revenge is a dish best served cold.

It was then that she made use of her father’s medical supplies. One bag of sterile saline solution and an IV drip – the ones they give you when you stay at the hospital to keep you hydrated – and some sleeping pills. When M was knocked out, she used an alcohol wipe, then pricked the tiny needle into the thin skin of M’s scrotum, and opened the drip valve. She had practiced this several times at the hospital, and there was nothing complicated about it. The fluid just goes wherever it can.

She waited for the bag to empty, removed the IV drip and went to sleep. In the morning, M awoke with an unusual… bulge between his legs.

He had no idea what hit him when he uncovered himself to see his new cantaloupe sized nut sack. In disbelief, he carefully touched the taught, shiny skin trying to comprehend the situation.

“How do you like it?” asked G, who had been pretending to sleep until then.

She explained her version of what was going on: that he’s a cheater, and that he deserves to be punished for his actions.

“So I turned you into a cow” – she said.

M was not to keen on the having-his-genitals-inflated-like-a-balloon thing, but there was no real gain in arguing with a clearly insane ex-girlfriend who had unlimited access to medical supplies. He soon realized that his newly acquired low hanging fruit did make certain basic tasks rather challenging, such as sitting, standing or walking. He did make an attempt at putting on briefs, but this proved to be futile as his distended sack would simply not fit, leading to G’s hysterical laughter. At this point, he realized that leaving the house was not going to be an option.

G was not too keen on leaving either, despite M’s repeated attempts to make her. She would only laugh as he waddling around the room with his legs spread wide to accommodate what she only referred to as his “udder”.

She explained that he would return to normal in “about a week”, and that until then, he would be more comfortable on all fours, “like a cow”.

M tried to convince her otherwise, but a swift barefoot kick to the inflated target rested her case. Indeed – he realized – on all fours, it was easier to get around, and with the unwieldy sack swinging between his legs, he was running out of arguments against the whole “cow” thing. With his “udder” protruding behind his legs with nowhere to hide, it was an easy target for her red painted toenails and palms (which looked relatively tiny now but delivered an excruciating slap nonetheless). She exploited this whenever he would misbehave, quickly gaining his reluctant compliance. Conversely, positive reinforcement would be given when he behaved correctly.

“Now. You will do as I tell you.” – she said firmly while removing her top.

Despite wanting anything but to comply with G’s orders, he was fully hard by the time she removed her bra. She was not the slightest surprised, as she had long grown used to causing erections without doing anything. She knelt down behind M and admired her handiwork, and proceeded to smear copious amounts of coconut oil over the awkward package and declared that being the good cow that he is, he was now ready to be milked.

M protested at first, but with one of G’s hands already pleasantly supporting his burdensome sack and the other sliding sleekly along his shaft, his words started to ring hollow even to him. The sensation was extremely alien yet highly erotic. His swollen scrotum pressed firmly against his thighs and its weight pulled down relentlessly on his entire package, leading to a mild but constant discomfort. Yet G’s fingers and nails felt heavenly on the surface of his extremely sensitive, thinly taut oiled skin. As she stroked him, G constantly played with her round creation, gently bouncing it up and down, swinging it back and forth and swirling her hands and fingers all around it, as if trying and failing to contain it all.

M’s heart and mind both agreed that this was the most degrading thing he had ever allowed to happen to him, but his manhood had the final word, as it usually is with males. G knew this all too well. Every effort he made to stop G felt like trying to get out of a warm jacuzzi on a cold winter night. It was so easy to just let it happen.

G knew the ins and outs of male pleasure. Over the years she had learnt that the longer she dragged it on, the more desperate they would become. Five minutes was plenty for most, but she liked to take much longer. Her secret was simply that she paid special attention to the subtle cues, sensing every pulse and twitch through the swollen, glistening flesh, and always stopping in time before it was too late. She would drive them insane from both pleasure and anticipation, and waited until they begged her to finish them. Her rule was that they would only get release when their cock was shiny and bright purple, jumping up and down in sync their heartbeat, and oozing a thick string of precum which she would periodically lick off of her finger. She also knew that taking breaks was more important than the strokes themselves.

“Please… Don’t stop… please!” – M pleaded when she would stop.

She added some oil to her palms and carefully caressed it onto the pink sphere, cupping it with both hands like a fragile ostrich egg ready to hatch.

“On one condition.” – she said, suddenly letting the globe slip out of her hands, causing M’s pelvis to be yanked downwards in a not-so-comfortable way.

“Please…” – was all that M could come up with, catching his breath.

She reached under the bed, grabbed a metal bucket, and placed it under M’s jouncing cock.

“I will only milk you if you ‘Moo’ for me like a good cow.”

He protested as usual, but she was unfazed. To give him a bit of inspiration, she pressed her breasts together sensually while locking eyes with him with a wide grin.

“Moo!” – muttered M, in a “whatever” tone of voice.

She administered one stroke.

“So?” – she said, licking the precum off her index finger.

“Moooo.” – he continued, and received several more strokes. To his relief, G’s hand returned to support the weight.

Just yesterday, if he had to place a bet on whether or not he will be naked on all fours in his bedroom, with a ball sack resembling a cow’s udder and mooing while G milks him into a bucket, he would have – most likely – lost that bet.

“Moooooooooooo!”

G continued stroking him but instead of speeding up, she slowed down.

“Moooooooooo dammit!!” – M was trying so hard to cum that he was now seeing little white stars in his peripheral vision.

G’s slimy touch became more and more subtle, touching only the underside of his painfully stiff member at an almost imperceptible pace. He could feel himself grow harder with every sophisticated stroke.

From her father’s books, she knew that erections and ejaculation were involuntary responses. Once triggered, they would just happen, and the owner was just along for the ride – which she had always found fascinating and took full advantage of.

M could feel it now. Almost painful pleasure was building and warmness was beginning to rise somewhere deep inside his stretched orb. The pressure was growing to an almost unbearable level, when suddenly, she took her hands away again and took something out of her pocket.

She was holding her phone and filming.

Seeing this, M did his best to reverse course, trying with all his might to hold back.

“Hey everyone, this is G, and this is my tutorial on how to milk a cow!” – she said for the camera.

“No! No!! MOO! MOOOO! MOOOOO!!!” – M cried out, likely because he was now conditionned to do so whenever she stopped.

It was too late. Thick, white streams forcefully hit the bottom of the bucket, again and again, five, six, seven, eight times. M thrust the air uncontrollably, sending cum flying all around, onto the floor, his stomach and face as his glistening bulge swayed back and forth between his thighs.

When he was finally done, she put her phone down and gave M’s sack two good slaps from the rear.

“Good cowboy!” – she said.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/eac53e/good_cowboy_fm_fdom_huml_bdsm