Jeff and Stacy 2 - Mistress and Slave
 
Jeff grunted as he came inside of Stacy. He marvelled at the fact that she wasn't pregnant, considering how often she'd had him, but only dimly; mostly he was intent on pleasing this mistress who so controlled his life.
 
It had been two months since Jeff had fallen off of the face of the earth, and at his request Stacy had brought him newspapers with his story in them. He'd gone from the front page to the sidebar, slowly being shuffled further back. There was no obituary, because they had yet to find the body Stacy had planted, which was likely at the dump by now. Jeff wasn't sure they'd ever find it, but he found it increasingly hard to care.
 
Stacy came, too, before leaning back; she'd had Jeff take her from behind, and now she lay down on him, pinning him to the bed. He turned his muzzle aside and she left him just enough space to breathe.
 
"Good," she said. "Not bad at all." She got up, pulling on Jeff's leash. He got up quickly - failure to immediately comply resulted in punishment. The two left the room, Stacy first with Jeff in tow, and headed down the hall for the bathroom.
 
A number of showers took up the far wall, with stalls lined up on the right with lockers on the left. Each locker had a corresponding room number, and Stacy walked over to hers, with Jeff almost having to jog to keep up. She liked to walk fast to make him struggle to keep up; once, as punishment, she'd run back and forth down the hall with Jeff's ankles in handcuffs; she'd dragged him along until she'd worn away the fur on his stomach, leaving a raw red patch. He shuddered to think about it. Stacy opened the locker and removed Jeff's collar, putting it and the leash inside of her locker.
 
Stacy put her towel inside, and pulled out a custom-made leather strap; once around her waist, it contained a muzzle of sorts for Jeff, tethering him to her as she showered. He would then have several minutes to get her to reach orgasm, or else. Stacy waited as Jeff got on his knees before fitting the muzzle onto him, pulling a trap around the back of his neck so he wouldn't be able to get out. There was one small hole at the end, just large enough for Jeff to fit his tongue through; he did so, having learned that this gave him a bit more time once the shower started.
 
As Jeff's tongue began lapping at Stacy's vagina, one of her friends, a bovine named Trish, came in. The two were both rather fat, and there had been increasing talk lately about getting together for a threesome. Jeff didn't think about it much; he found it was easiest to just do what was asked of him now, rather than dwelling on what was to come.
 
The two got to talking, and Jeff strained to listen, in case it concerned him. He had to adjust himself as the two began washing each other - a rather common practise. Jeff's dick poked out from its sheath a little.
 
"So, what've you been up to?" asked Trish. "I haven't seen you around lately."
 
"Oh, you know," said Stacy, patting the back of Jeff's head and setting him back about fifteen seconds as he struggled to bring his head into just the right position to lick her clit. That was the only sure-fire way to get her to cum.
 
Trish laughed. "You should get out more," she said. "Don't want to become too attached."
 
"Mmm," said Stacy, and Trish changed the subject. Jeff filed that away for future reference - why shouldn't Stacy want to become too attached to him? He began listening again.
 
"All set for tonight, then?" asked Trish.
 
"Yes," said Stacy. Jeff could tell from her tone that she was smiling - he'd learned to pick up on various nuances in the past weeks. "I'll be looking forward to it. Which apartment should we do it in?"
 
"Oh - mine," said Trish. "There's SO much more room."
 
"You're right," said Stacy, and Jeff had the distinct impression that Stacy had cut Trish off. It didn't matter; he'd heard what he needed to hear. That threesome was going through after all. "See you tonight, then."
 
"Yeah - see you," said Trish, and she left. The water stopped running, along with Jeff's heart. Stacy hadn't hit orgasm.
 
"Disappointing," she said, tightening the strap holding Jeff's head in place and causing him to wince in pain. "Since you seem so intent on hearing us talk..." She began walking, with Jeff trailing between her legs. He lifted his hands and held on to Stacy's belt-strap, so he wouldn't run out of air. Jeff saw them approach a bathroom stall, and watched the door open and close. Stacy adjusted the strap, moving Jeff's head; once in position, she sat down on the toilet. Jeff's head was underneath her. He screamed.
 
"That's it," she said, as he began to struggle. "I want to hear the terror in your voice." She began to relieve herself, urinating on the back of Jeff's neck. He squirmed as the warm liquid trickled around his neck. His head was pointed down so he wouldn't choke, and it trickled down to the end of his muzzle, dripping into the water below. This wasn't so bad, he rationalized. Then Stacy stopped peeing.
 
Jeff closed his eyes as the first turd hit his head, and held his breath as she continued to shit - she'd joked about having eaten three alley rats the other night, and judging from the amount of shit now covering Jeff's head, she hadn't been exaggerating. It stank horribly and brought with it a deep-seated sense of shame, but also a bit of arousal; Jeff had stopped asking why things turned him on after the first week, and his first punishment.
 
Finally, Stacy stopped, bringing her legs up onto the toilet seat. She looked down at Jeff, who was whimpering involuntarily, and undid a strap on her belt. His head fell forward into the toilet and he brought it up quickly, having just enough sense to stop before he hit Stacy's rear. She nodded and stood up. "Clean yourself off while I go get dry. If you're not clean when I get back..." She stopped there, heading over to the lockers. That was how her threats worked - leave it up to the imagination. Jeff brought his hands around and began undoing the muzzle before wiping the shit off - no need to get it trapped under, where it might get him sick. He flushed the toilet, and stuck his head all the way under once it refilled; it was the quickest and easiest way to get clean, no matter how disgusting. He was just cleaning off the muzzle when a hand grabbed the back of his neck and lifted him up.
 
"I don't recall giving you permission to take the muzzle off," she said, before pushing him into the wall. She was in a sadistic mood today, it seemed. After a moment, she said "Good. You've learned not to argue with your mistress. Well, since you seem to enjoy disobedience, we'll see how much you enjoy this." Setting him down, she ordered him onto his knees, and he obeyed. Adjusting him until he was bent forward, sitting on his feet, she turned and pushed her asshole onto him; on command he put the tip of his muzzle to her pucker, wondering how long she would want him to rim her.
 
Jeff wanted to scream as she pushed his head into her ass, but couldn't - her pucker held his mouth shut. The smell hit him immediately, and he had to work not to throw up - in this position, he would drown. She pulled him in further, and he wisely closed his eyes as the larger part of his head entered her. She stopped just before his ears entered, and he had to work not to give in to the crushing pain of the sphincter.
 
"I'll leave you in there until tonight," she said. "We'll see how well you behave yourself when we go over to Trish's. Keep this up, and you'll exit that same hole." She pulled his head the rest of the way in, and he gasped for air, both due to the lack of oxygen and the constriction on his neck. He quickly got to his feet and walked bent over so that he wouldn't choke quite so badly; a casual observer might have mistaken Stacy for a cat-taur, with four sets of legs like that. They stopped, and Jeff could dimly make out Stacy's room door being opened; they entered, and the door shut closed behind them.
 
The hours passed agonizingly slow for Jeff; he passed into a kind of daze, partially asphyxiated by the stench. Stacy lay down on the couch, on her belly with Jeff on top of her, his head still in her ass; turning on the tv, she watched some pornography, fingering herself as she did so. Internet was out of her reach until the current contract with the cable company ran out, and she was counting the months now. Finally, that evening, Stacy pushed Jeff's head out. His neck had an angry red ring around it, and his head stank; Stacy ran his head underwater briefly to wake him, holding it there longer to wash him off.
 
"Going to behave yourself now?" asked Stacy, and Jeff nodded vigorously, suppressing a wince at the pain in his neck. She put his collar on, pulling him by the leash as they exited Room 201, heading down the hall for Trish's room. Jeff rubbed his neck, mentally hoping he wouldn't piss Stacy off any more. Although... she had more than implied that she would eat him, and as he watched her walk, the idea turned him on. Becoming nothing more than another layer of fat... Stacy said she liked to swallow prey whole, but had to settle for eating the meat the way she did to give her poor system a break from it (and also to make it easier to store the food). Churning inside of her, and feeding his mistress like that; he had to shake his head to snap out of it. Stacy noted that and smiled.
 
Trish's room was almost bare, with a layer of hay; most anthros lived like humans, but some still lived as though they were feral, giving in to more primal instincts. A growing movement was advocating a movement towards the humans's style of living, saying that living feral was sinful; Stacy, of course, thought it was a load of bull. Trish was sitting in the corner of the room; her face lit up as Stacy entered. The room smelled like a barn, and Jeff saw a pile of manure in the corner; Trish probably sold it to a greenhouse. He hoped so - that would mean Trish was a vegetarian.
 
"I brought him," said Stacy, and Trish nodded. There was a hungry gleam in her eyes that Jeff didn't entirely like. "You get him first, as promised."
 
"Oh, yay!" she said as Stacy handed off the leash. Jeff gulped and stood there, waiting for the naked cow's instruction.
 
"Get on your knees," she said harshly, and when Jeff complied, she giggled, smiling at Stacy. Having someone obey her every whim was obviously a new experience for her. "Now, hmm... what shall I have you do..."
 
"Might I suggest some oral?" she said. "He's quite good at it... usually." Jeff cringed, feeling ashamed despite himself.
 
"All right," she said, standing in front of Jeff. "Make me howl." Jeff did, sticking his muzzle inside; her hips were a lot wider than Stacy's, and she howled, putting a hand on the back of his head and pushing. He pushed back, and they mimicked a thrusting motion; when Trish came, Jeff pulled his muzzle out and began to drink the fluids; he'd already experienced the consequences of not doing so. She laughed again, this one deeper in her throat, and she grabbed his head, pushing his muzzle into her vagina once again; unlike before, however, she kept pushing, and Jeff had to let it happen. Jeff wanted to pant as he breathed in her natural musk; it was cramped and wet inside of the bovine, but he wanted nothing more than to go deeper in. Jeff's shoulders were admitted after some struggling; Trish sat down and spread her legs wide to accomodate Jeff. After his shoulders, the rest of him went relatively easily; his muzzle hit some resistance before pushing through into what must have been Trish's womb. It was wet and dripping in here, too, with a pool of fluid in the bottom. Trish produced a lot of fluids as Jeff went further in; by the time his feet joined the rest of him inside Trish's womb, it was half-full and rising. He began drinking, hoping to stem the tide a little.
 
Outside, Trish rubbed her swollen gut and moaned. "Oh, god," she said. "I might have to find a stallion after this. Get a few little ones..."
 
"Now, now," said Stacy. "Having children is a lot different. Not nearly as pleasureable."
 
"Oh, but you get a good meal afterwards..." said Trish, giggling.
 
"I thought you were a vegetarian!" said Stacy, feigning shock. Trish rolled her eyes and sighed.
 
"Only for my stupid job," she said. "If I have any meat, I can't produce good manure for at least a week. And that's a lot of money lost. Not all of us have trust funds like you." Stacy just smiled, keeping mum on where the money really came from.
 
Trish adjusted herself and sighed. "I guess I'll have to let him out, huh?"
 
"I wouldn't mind parting with him for a night," said Stacy. "I can come back tomorrow and have my turn then."
 
"Oh, goody!" said Trish, clapping her hooves together in delight."
 
"You'll have to send some food in for him," said Stacy. "He should be all right thirst-wise."
 
"Oh, that'll be no problem," said Trish, closing her eyes and giggling at the thought of sending more things in.
 
"I would recommend carrots - they're the easiest, for obvious reasons." Trish just giggled. "I'll come back tomorrow night for him. Do what you want with him until then... just return him in one piece, all right?"
 
"Okay," said Trish, sighing and feigning disappointment. The two had sex for a while, Trish donning a strap-on, and by the time Stacy finally left it was nightfall.
 
Jeff had no idea what was going on. He thought he'd be coming back out so that Stacy could have a turn with him, but the two had just had sex (judging from the jostling and noises) before Trish settled down and went to sleep. It wasn't exactly unpleasant in here, Jeff reasoned, and he masturbated once before going to sleep himself.
 
Jeff was awakened by something prodding his thigh. He thought at first it was Stacy, her strap-on ready for action, but Jeff was surrounded by a squishy, slimy membrane on all sides. He reached behind himself and pulled up what seemed to be a carrot; he ate it, remembering where he was.
 
The day passed slowly for Jeff - in order to make the most money, Trish sat around and grazed all day, and Jeff could feel food pushing past him all day. Later on, she relieved herself, and feeling the mass push past him got Jeff hard; he was in the perfect place to jerk off, after all. The womb was rather risky for this, too, Jeff thought dimly as he cleaned up; what if he got Trish pregnant? More food for Stacy, probably. He settled back into a doze.
 
Stacy came back that evening and coached Trish through the re-birthing process - mostly, how to get the most pleasure out of it. Eventually, Jeff was on the floor, dripping with sexual fluids, some his own. Stacy gave him a quick tongue-bath before ordering him to her own vagina.
 
Stacy was a lot tighter than Trish had been, but there was still enough room for Jeff to fit, although his shoulders went in sideways. She yowled as he entered her, and Trish did him in the ass with a strap-on, eventually transferring to Stacy as Jeff was pulled in. The two spent the rest of the night doing this before finally falling asleep together.
 
In the morning, Stacy pushed Jeff out - she was a lot quicker about it than Trish had been - and they headed back down the hall to Stacy's apartment. Once inside, Stacy put Jeff's collar on a hook and pulled out some meat, sitting next to him on the couch and eating.
 
After a bit, Jeff said, "Mistress?" Stacy turned to him, one eyebrow raised, and Jeff said "Am I forgiven, now?"
 
Stacy chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. Finally, she said "You made Trish rather happy last night, and you didn't struggle too much... I guess so." Jeff sighed in relief and looked at the door, wondering how long this would last. He registered the bone from Stacy's snack landing in front of the tv to his right. Jeff wasn't prepared when Stacy picked him up and set him on her lap, licking him. It was an uncomfortable position, but as Stacy purred, Jeff relaxed, curling up naturally as she cleaned him up. She even spent long enough on his dick to make him climax, and swallowed every drop of his cum. Then she laid back on the couch - unless they were fucking, Stacy left the hide-a-bed alone and fell asleep. After a while, Jeff followed suit.