Island Retreat Part 5

Selma’s placid expression was gone when Selma was brought into the room. Two of the red-and-white clad latex nurses carried her. Marla followed.

“I do not think this is such a good idea.”

Marla shrugged. The gesture was equally dismissive and infuriating.

“I agreed to take over the post. I simply brought a few offerings with me. You know how it is. No reason to risk word of the island getting out. It’s only good business.”

“When I was told a replacement was coming, no one said anything about others. It was supposed to be you and only you on that boat.”

“Plans changed,” Marla purred.

“The die is cast now,” Carmen admitted with a sigh. “And I suppose it is best to show you a practical application of our methods. But I do not approve of this.”

“The goo dthing is your at the end of your watch. You don’t have to approve of anything anymore. And you can lodge an official complaint with the Board if you like. But you said it yourself. You enjoy the fruits of your labor and the rather exotic tastes the island has to offer. I simply wanted the same. And if you suggest that pink doll over there is some willing permanent resident, I suppose I’d have to believe you. But I do have my doubts, Carmen.”

The older woman held her tongue.

“What will you have done to her?”

“Selma? I want her body to betray her. She’s quite the prude. It will be nice to see her fall from grace.”

“A whore?”

“Something like that.”

While the nurse dolls fitted Selma into the chair and restrained her, Marla drew close to Carmen.

“I’m sorry I upset you. That really wasn’t my intent. But I see all the toys you have to play with. I only wanted a few of my own. The Board chose me because we share similar tastes, Carmen. And similar attitudes. I would be a liar if I said I didn’t find you intriguing.”

Carmen’s eyes drifted down Marla’s body. She was a handsome woman, maybe even beautiful. Her wide hips and big breasts suggested a maternal figure, but the wild tangles of her sandy hair the sharp nose, the evn sharper light in her eyes filled with mischief, that said Marla was a true seductress. Not only did she have physical beauty, she was possessed of a magnetism. A siren calling from the shores of her lust. And Carmen would soon be leaving the island. Finding women like Marla would not be so easy.

“I find you infuriating.”

“I’ve never turned down a grudge fuck.”

“Is that what you want?” Carmen asked. Now she was teasing Marla right back.

“I want more than that. I want to taste that sweet pussy you’re hiding under that beach dress. I want to suck your nipples and see what that body looks like for myself.”

Carmen’s cheeks burned red, a deep stain against her naturally tan skin.

“The first stage in the process is to break down the mind of the subject. To make them feel as if they are not who they thought they were. That process can take hours.”

“That sounds like just enough time, then,” Marla said. She was next to Carmen, pulling at the breezy skirt to draw the woman closer. While Selma’s eyes were pried open and fixed on the blank wall before her, Carmen and Marla kissed. By the time the conditioning began with slow spirals turning on the previously empty wall, the women were retired to Carmen’s room. While Selma struggled, her cries stifled by the bit in her mouth, Marla reached her first climax under the expert tongue of the island’s hostess. And then it was her turn. Marla moved between Carmen’s legs. The taste of her pussy was rich and musky, just as Marla predicted. It was nice to see the mature woman buck while Marla assaulted her clit and then abandoned it, slowly licking the length of her slit.

By the time Marla had her third orgasm of the heated session, Selma’s programming was well underway. It was that thought, the burrowing into Selma’s mind, that launched Marla into her fourth and final orgasm. She was starting to feel quite at home.

After some claustrophobia, James had to get out. Maggie was gnawing her fingernails down to the roots while staring out the pair of windows. She paced from one that looked out on an empty field to the other. That one looked at the trail leading to the beach, and it was this one she spent the majority of her time observing. Perhaps she was looking for a boat to arrive, perhaps merely wishing across the waves to attract a rescuer.

“Maybe we should go get something to eat, huh?” James ventured.

“No. I’m good.” She didn’t bother to turn around. Her blue eyes were cast out toward the dock, somewhere beyond the rolling hills of the island.

“Mags, it could be days before someone gets here. We need to leave the room at some point. Even if it’s just to take a leak or something.”

“You go.” Her voice was faraway. James wasn’t sure if she received the meaning of his words at all.

“Alright, I’ll bring you something back.”

“Yeah,” she said, another response that could have been mere utterance without meaning.

The interior walls and doors were painted white, and there were no cracks in that paint to suggest disrepair. There was a vase in the hallway with wide green fronds and a crisp and clean smell wafted through the house. He followed the breeze to the living area. The main doors were closed, but another pair of double doors opened on a veranda with a small table and a pair of chairs placed around it. He imagined taking coffee on the cobblestone veranda while the sunlight slanted over the stone and crept toward the house as the morning drew on.

He realized he was outside, distracted by the beauty of the place, and then by the sound of the cows mooing in the field. He followed the fence line to a part of the field where the cows gathered. There was one in particular that caught his eye, a woman with hair trimmed to her shoulders, dark strands hanging loosely from her forehead and down her cheeks. Her body was painted a white and brown, the patches mottled. She moved on all fours and paused, lowering her head to tug at a clump of grass and then pull it free. Teeth ground that grass into cud and she swallowed.

Surely they were fed something else, but seeing the wholesale transformation, including diet, of a cow, turned James on. His cock was hard looking at the woman wearing only paint on her skin, her eyes big and empty. Her body was curvy, but not quite fat, and her breasts were full and heavy and hung low to the ground. So unlike Maggie’s pert, high breasts with their gentle curve and pointed nipples. She was beautiful, but Maggie was not voluptuous. Not like the cow.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

James discovered Marla at his shoulder, looking out over the field. He was immediately ashamed, worried that she could somehow read his thoughts. But she said no more, either waiting for him to answer or content to join him in admiring the cows.

“They seem – I don’t know – simple,” he said. Their voices were low by the fence line, as if worried they might disturb the cows.

“There is an appeal in that, isn’t there? Not worried about anything but eating and being milked.”

“They’re milked?”

“Oh yes,” Marla assured him. “I asked Carmen all about it. They get fed a sort of paste while they’re milked in a stall to make sure they get their proper nutrition. And to keep them docile and empty-headed.”

“She’s drugging them?”

“Oh yes. They did ask for it, remember. But it keeps their brains from getting too busy. I like that idea. Their only thoughts are eating, milking, and fucking.”

“They don’t seem too horny.”

“You’re not looking close enough. That brown and white one over there? The one you were looking at? Her pussy is so wet. You can see it dripping when the light hits her. She’s ready for any cock she can get. Too bad there’s no bull to service them.”

“I guess…” he said. Now his eyes were fixed on the cow’s quim. It was wet. He could imagine himself moving behind her, sliding his rod into that wet hole while she mooed beneath him. Then his eyes shut, savoring the image. They popped open when he felt the sting at the rook of his neck. His head turned fast to see a latex doll, clad in red and white, standing over him with a needle in hand, the plunger already depressed. Another joined that doll, looking down at and over him. Why were they so tall? He must have fallen. He struggle dto keep his mind from going dark, but the walls of his consciousness were slippery and he could gain no purchase. He fell into a dark chasm in his mind, chased down by the sound of mooing.

Elsewhere, Selma was coming to. It was a room not unlike the one Maggie paced in, only there was a single window directly before the bed where Selma lay. Her head was thick and foggy. She lifted a hand to her forehead to soothe her addled brain.

She heard a key turn in the door before it opened. She should have been prepared to see Marla in the open space, but she was surprised by her ease and joy when she moved into the room and locked the door behind her. Why was she locked inside? What had been done to her? She remembered some kind of injection and then… And then…

She remembered a white room and latex figures arranging her. And then her rain turned to mush and something changed. She could feel it, an itch she couldn’t scratch. There was something about her that had been altered, and she was helpless to define it. But it was there, a murky shape beneath her awareness, ready to surface and show itself.

“Wakey-wakey,” Marla beamed, “how is my sweet friend?”

Selma asked, “What did you do to me?” but no sound emerged from her throat. She tried again with the same result. Her lips and tongue moved, but she could produce no noise.

“Oh, don’t bother trying to talk. We had your vocal chords paralyzed. That will wear off. When it does, you won’t feel much like talking, though.”

Selma grabbed her throat, staring daggers at Marla. She rolled off the bed, very aware of the tangle of the loose dress as she fell from the mattress to the wooden floor. Her fury at Marla was mitigated by the fact she couldn’t seem to stand. She could get her feet under her, but then her knees would buckle. She rose, tottered, and fell back to the floor. Frustration built and threatened to spill tears down her cheeks. She found some ease when she sat on her hands and knees and rested back on her legs. She looked up at Marla, confused and filled with rage.

“Oh, yes, no walking either. You were always so high-and-mighty, Selma. Which is a real shame, because you are one gorgeous piece of ass. I know you think my attraction to women is ungodly or unethical or whatever passes for morality in that brain of yours, but I’ve always found you vert attractive. Maybe never more than now. You are prettier when you don’t talk.”

Selma attempted another cry of pain and rage, but the silence held.

“Also, I think we should finally get you out of that dress.”

The tangle under her knees and the loose cotton clinging to her was a constant distraction. Marla approached with some scissors and simply cut the straps of the shoulders and slit the back of it with the opened scissors until the dress fell away from her, exposing her bare flesh. Her bra and underwear was removed sometime during Marla’s abduction of her and now she felt exposed and helpless and weak.

“Much better. God, look at those tits. You havesuch big, juicy tits, Selma. Why you insisted on hiding those knockers away is a real mystery. But now I can look at them whenever I want.” Marla returned the scissors to the shelf she plucked them from and bent to Selma. Her now-empty hands cupped Selma’s breasts and pinched her nipples.

That action sent a volley of emotions through Selma. She was ashamed and angry and frustrated she couldn’t make herself claw at Marla. For some reason, no matter hwo angry she was, she couldn’t quite make herself attack Marla. And part of the reluctance might have been the deep arousal she felt when Marla pinched her nipples. Her tits felt incredibly erotic, and that sting of Marla’s fingers made Selma’s eyes flutter and her mouth hang open. Her pussy was on fire, hungry and wanting.

“Oh, that’s very good. I was hoping the conversion could match my fantasy, and it looks like we are doing very well.”

Even through the fog of her lust, Selma’s head tilted curiously. What had Marla done to her?

“You look so stupid, Selma. Confusion suits you. But I’ll let you in on a little secret, considering you’ll never be able to tell anyone anyways. The whole reason I brought you and Maggie and James here is because I wanted some guinea pigs. I needed to know I could perform the conversions the island called for. Carmen has been a big help, of course. But her imagination is limited. Me? I like to enjoy the process. It’s the journey, not the destination. That’s why you’ll be aware of what’s happening to you as long as I can help it. Think about it, Selma. You feel more comfortable naked. It’s easier to be on all fours than to stand. You can’t speak. Your big, beautiful tits need attention. Can’t you guess what’s happening to you?”

Selma frowned. The answer was on the tip of her silenced tongue.

“Maybe I should put you in the field. Or is that too big a hint?”

The tumblers fell. Her aching breasts. Her inability to stand or to talk. Her comfort with her nudity. The field… Selma was making her one of the cows!

Now it wasn’t just fury, but desperation. From deep down in the well of her soul, anger and betrayal spewed forth and her voice would not be silenced. She roared!

“MoooOOOOoooo!”

Selma blinked, her face a mask of shock. Marla brayed laughter, clapping her hands while she bent, seized by dark glee.

“Oh, my sweet cow, you found your voice. And now you know the last word you will ever need to know. I’ll leave you here for now. It makes me happy to think you’ll be all alone to think about how far you’ve fallen. But don’t worry. Soon enough you’ll be with your herd in the field. And then you’ll be just as happy as they are.”

Marla found Carmen in the conversion room. James was fitted into the chair, his face slack while he was trained by the brainwashing images and sounds. He’d been in for hours by now, and while his brain was largely mush at this point, it would require some conditioning in the coming days to fix his new identity in place. While she did not find the nude male body particularly appealing, even Marla had to appreciate how well hung James was. He was fully erect. One of the latex nurses stroked his cock while he stared at the images on the wall, flashes of cows and bestial sex, moving fast and burning into his brain while headphones that cupped his ears told him what he was and how happy he would be in accepting that fate.

“How’s he coming?”

Carmen nodded. “I think it helped that he was attracted to the cows. As much as I hate to admit it, he is especially suited to this. I don’t like how we did it, but he is well-suited to his new role. And I think it could open up some opportunities for the guests. We’ve never offered a bull experience before. Perhaps some might even like being bred in their cow state.”