Clarity is not impunity. Disembedding from the “I” is a tool for insight, not for justification of violence or antisocial behavior.
Knowing “there is no self” is about structural observation of mind and system, not about erasing accountability in the external causal world. Society, law, and ethics operate on observable behaviors, not metaphysical identity. Whether or not a person experiences themselves as “John” doesn’t negate the harm caused.
Knowing “there is no self” is about structural observation of mind and system, not about erasing accountability in the external causal world.
Tim/OC – Milky AU – breeding; animalistic; cumdumb; hypnosis; mind break – An undisclosed time later, Tim experiences his new daily routines.
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The Milk Man has sat down with Tim to talk to him about his future Farm. Tim just coasts on a warm orgasm, his legs eagerly spread for more, staring up at the machine that is fucking him on his favorite cock; not especially fat but so long that it makes his belly hurt vaguely from the stuffing.
He listens to Milk Man but the a desperation and anger that his words usually would have evoked are notably absent as he stretches out luxuriously and fumbles for the remote of the Imitator.
Tim is no longer restrained 24/7. He’s unsure when the change exactly happened. Everything just seems to blur since Jason’s visit. He’d be hard pressed at this point to even say how long ago that visit was.
It could have been yesterday or a week or even a month since Talia grabbed Jason’s leash and pulled him out of the facility and out of Tim’s life.
He hadn’t seen Oana again either. He’s not sure if she’s even still there.
Sometimes he hears someone crying and whimpering but he’s reasonably sure that that isn’t her. Part of him understands that it must be a new calf that has been abducted by the Milk Man to be worked over into a cow against their will, but the empathy from before is simply… missing.
He doesn’t feel like he has to get out of her and toward the other sad bastard to try and lift their spirits in this situation.
He doesn’t even feel like he has to be vigilant and look for a way out of the situation. In a sense he has given up. He has accepted that what he has become can’t be undone anymore.
Milk Man fits him with a tail and Tim slurs thank you because it goes along with Ned offering him a tight, slicked up channel to fuck into and a few lazy, delicious orgasms.
Since Jason used that trigger phrase on Tim, he has not been allowed to come up again and surface from the fog filling his mind. He’s docile and horny. So, so horny. Constantly horny, writhing for cock, begging for cock, barking like a goddamn dock if it will only get him cock, cock, cock.
He weeps when they don’t milk him, he weeps when they do milk him. He is a constant ball of hormones and horniness and no anxiousness anywhere. That’s something new for him in and off itself. He’s been used to at least a little bal of anxiety sitting in the back of his throat. Something constant and annoying that would push him on to studying more and harder. To making sure that his being a calf wouldn’t throw him back behind his peers.
It’s gone. And if anything, it is that that he is truly thankful for. The one thing that makes him think really and truly – whenever he starts coming up from his dazed hypnosis just a little – that what is happening is right.
That it is okay.
Him getting turned into a cow against his will is an okay thing to happen because he is for once in his life not anxious and stressing over exams and over the little job that he worked to keep himself afloat. He does not have to worry about the fuck hunger rearing its head and putting him out of commission, as mild as it always had been for him.
He’s not thinking about Batman constantly – obsessing – and wondering when the headlines would pop up that Gotham’s hero was found dead.
He doesn’t. Have. To Think.
Milk Man is suddenly holding out a brochure. He has it unfolded and is helpfully hovering it above Tim’s face, pointing at the glossy, colorful pictures and not attempting to make him read any of the text. He knows that Tim is too dumb for it right now anyway. That his legs are trembling with the strain of keeping them nice and spread as the Imitator curled the impossibly long appendage inside his guts like a… like a… (worm).
“They are a wonderfully clean facility with a lot of lush green spaces for you to work out in if you want to. You could take Mister Day for a run, hmn? Wouldn’t that be fun to stretch out your legs a little after being cooped up here for so long?”
Tim whines, a little confused. Would that be fun? He blinks away tears of overstimulation, his trembling hands moving to touch his stomach, cupping it, wondering briefly about what is growing there and immediately getting distracted by the feeling of the appendage writhing beneath his palms.
He can feel it pushing up through the skin and it is so entirely too distracting that he forgets Milk Man is even there.
The other keeps patiently holding out the brochure, waiting for some of those synapses to start working again. Can he see how dumb Tim is at the moment? Can people look at him and just know that he’s just a cow, just there to get fucked, just helpless and useless enough to have gotten abducted and made into this needy creature living for the health and benefit of others-
Would he like stretching his legs? Go out into a pasture and run a little, feel his heavy teats jiggling, swollen with milk mere hours after getting milked nice and dry?
Would he like to have Day beside him, frolicking through the fields like the animals they have become?
Milk Man hums low and satisfied and says, as if he heard Tim’s thoughts: “Of course that would be fun. A virile young cow like you; you must be dying for some new exercise.”
Oh. Okay then. Yes, he would like that. He would like that very much so.
The machine hums softly and pushes deeper. Or maybe it is just gently, slowly rearranging Tim’s guts with the long windings that it has shoved inside him. In any case, his eyes roll up into his head and he comes while Milk Man chuckles low and throaty like he thinks it’s especially cute what Tim is doing.
.oOo.
Tim is drifting. He’s hanging off of Ned’s arm like a hand puppet, his brain swimming in a sea of endorphins and his chest prickling from being hooked up to the milking machine.
The machine is really quiet overall but for some reason his brain has basically hooked itself up to the low humming sound and he’s just staring at the hypnotic movement of the pistons and how the container is getting filled more and more with his milk.
He barely even hears Milk Man and Ned talking over him. Speaking like he isn’t there. Because he isn’t. Not really. He’s been gone for a long, long time.
“I dunno. It feels wrong to not let him have his first for himself. Won’t that like… fuck- I, I mean mess with his head?”
“It shouldn’t. It would be worse to let him carry it and then take it away. He’s not even showing yet. Overall it might be better to just let them have it and implant it into one of their own cows. I can’t afford to have her retract all those funds.”
A Lowlife Stole This Woman's Dog And Abused Her, But She Found Her Way Home.
A Lowlife Stole This Woman’s Dog And Abused Her, But She Found Her Way Home.
Imagine having your dog, your favorite companion, stolen right from your front door. It’s horrible, but life moves on. Except now imagine that you’re the dog, and the new “owner” is abusive, mean, and a terrible human being that beats you day in and day out.
