A little background

It's been a few weeks now since it started.
Since the 'thoughts' started happening.
You have tried everything short of eating a bullet to stop them, yet they persist all the same.
They come unannounced seemingly at random, at morning, noon, and night, but not in any kind of discernable pattern.
You try to prepare yourself and block them out, but they always catch you off balance.
It's almost like-
(Touch the cow!  Do it-)
No!  Fucking no!
Again they come, burning through your mind like so many crazed chipmunks on acid!
Ricocheting from one end of your skull to the other as you desperately try catch them or block them out.
It's all you can do to head the dreaded words off before the accursed chanting phrase can finish.
You hold your breath, and wait.
Will it come again?
Will you have to try and block out a repeating chorus like yesterday?
Or will it stop there, until you drop your guard and starts up again later?
...
Nothing more comes, so you allow yourself to breathe once more.
Fuck...
-----------------

It started when 'she' arrived.
You worked in a regular old office, doing a regular old desk job, for a perfectly normal agency.
It was boring and vaguely depressing, but it paid the bills and didn't really require your brain to go any higher than about second gear or so.
So when headoffice sent over a regional manager to assess how you and your equally bored colleagues were doing it had been the closest thing to 'excitement' to happen there for years.
Your colleagues had expected some stuffed suit sporting a comb over and a pencilstach, clutching a little faux leather briefcase and an air of superiority.
What you got though, was a woman.
Not any normal woman either, but an  anthro bovoid of all things.
Her kind was rare this side of the divide, so to find one strolling in like she owned the place and talking down to everyone came as something of a shock.
She-
(Touch the cow!  Do-)
No!
Fuck off damn it!
...
Ahem...
She had walked on in, introduced herself as Mary Maguire, and promptly set about tearing the performance reports of your division to pieces.
Which hadn't gone down well.
Some of the guys had tried coming up with a nickname for her when she wasn't in earshot, but failed miserably.
They tried 'Cowgirl', 'Mooey Mary', and even 'Bully beef'.
None of them stuck.
Not until you threw your hat into the ring, with a little suggested of your own.
'Mary Milkers'.
By itself, nothing special.
But when put together with her appearance...
Mary was of average hight, dressed in a smart blouse, jacket and skirt, and sporting a pair of thin framed glasses.
Her long bovine face was covered with a fine sheen of brown hair, except for her nose and mouth which were much lighter.
Her eyes were large and dark, unreadable to any that found themselves caught in their stare.
So why milkers?
She just happened to be endowed with a bosom that, even though covered by her smart blouse, looked like it could crush a man's head if dropped down upon him unexpectedly.
So, seeing as she resembled a cow, your suggestion stuck.
Since that day however, your problems had started.
Be it at your desk, at the bar after work, or even while fast asleep at night, your mind would simply stop what it was doing and chant-
"Touch the cow!  Do it now!"
At first you had thought it the result of being overtired, and vowed to go to bed earlier.
Then you had thought perhaps it was that you were drinking too much and cut down.
Maybe it was too much TV or video gaming and cut down on that too.
But nothing worked.
One second you would be pondering something innocently normal, such as why people insisted on leaving gum on the seats of the bus, or why Gregg from accounting seemingly refused to wear deodorant...
But then-
(Touch the cow!  Do it now!)
Followed by a series of unspeakably lewd images of Mary rampaging across your vision.
It struck at any time without warning, without mercy.
Eating lunch at work and trying to hold down a conversation with that cute girl from downstairs?
(Touch the cow!  Do it now!)
Trying to explain to your boss that you look like crap and are late again because you can't sleep for more than an hour at a time?
(Touch the cow!  Do it now!)
Without sounding like a pervert?
(Touch the cow!  Do it now!)
Trying to gather your thoughts and work out what is going-
( Touch the cow!  Do it now!)
Screaming internally and begging God to make it st-
(Touch the cow!  Do it now!)
...
Fuuuuuuuuuuck!
---------------------

D-day

Today you were late for work.
The chanting in your head kept you up most of the night, and nothing you did, drank or prayed to made it stop.
So after getting up late you only just made it in before your boss got too mad.
Good thing too, because today is the last day of the review from headoffice, and there's talk of a half day, and even a little party to reward everyone for their hard work.
It would also be the last day that Milkers would be here.
So you had been pinning your hopes on the possibility that once that annoying bovoid left, you might be able to get back to some sort of normalcy.
It wasn't to be however.

After getting in, there hadn't been a peep from your traitorous mind, so you had decided to coast through to the afternoon office party and then slip out.
Perhaps you might have time to fit in a nap and catch up in your much missed sleep.
When the 'party' started however, the bastards locked the doors and made sure everyone stayed and took part.
Why had you thought the word 'party' instead of a regular party?
Typical boss level scrimping, that's why.
The music was a compilation of acoustic ABBA songs via someone's already outdated iPhone speakers.
There was food, if you considered processed cheese on sticks, some knock off Doritos and a small sponge cake as party food.
And the promised drinks?
Some fruit juice in paper cups.
Nice...
So it was, you got yourself into what looked like the darkest corner of the office (with some snacks, of course) and tried to keep out of sight.
Which inevitably lead to half of your colleagues congregating around you and designating the area the "no dance zone".
Still, not too bad.
While the management and the asskissers awkwardly tried to dance over there, you stayed in your corner and just talked about nothing in the hopes of running down the clock.
This worked for a time, until someone came over looking to speak with you.
As in you, specifically.

The conversation around you dried up with a series of whispers and hushed mutterings of "Shhhh!  Milkers is coming over!"
"Are you enjoying the party Anon?"
Her slightly husky voice cut through the tinny music and banter instantly, causing you to snap to attention despite yourself.
"Uh yes ma'am." you mutter, trying to avoid eye contact with your safe space invader.
It was indeed Mary Milkers.
While your bosses had ditched their jackets and ties in an attempt to look like 'one of you', Mary still wore the same strictly smart ensemble she'd worn since the first day that she got here.
"Oh good!" she replied with obviously false cheer, her hands clasped behind her back.
"Its just that I've been a little worried about you recently..."
You look up in surprise, regretting it instantly in face of her dark impassive eyes.
"Really?" you ask uncertainly.
She nodded.
"I couldn't help but notice a sudden drop in productivity in your section this last few days, and after just signing off on this office's bill of health I would hate to think that things would go south so soon."
You manage a dumb look while your suddenly very silent and attentive colleagues listen in.
"With today being my last day here before I head back up to Central, I was wondering if there was anything you needed to tell me?"
All eyes were on you as you sat and stared.
Was she really calling you out like this in front of everyone?
Why was she singling you out like this?
While the others watched and waited, you put together your response.
"Why no Ms Maguire, there is nothing I need to tell you at all!  In fact, I have been somewhat under the weather since the start of your visit but I assure you my recovery is well in hand!"
At least, that is roughly what you intended to say to her, albeit with less pomp.
All you managed however was-
"Well, actually Ms-"
Then nothing.
Nothing except the explosion of words in your head that were not your own.
(Touch the cow!  Do it now!)
So your confident response was cut short with a spluttering cough, as your mind reeled from the influx of unwanted emotions.
Everyone stared at you, cocking eyebrows and exchanging amused glances.
All except Mary Milkers, who's eyes narrowed with what looked awfully like satisfaction.
"Sorry, did you say something Anon?" she smirked.
Taking a deep breath, you call on whatever ancestors might possibly have been zen monk types to pass down whatever vibes of calm self control and try again.
"Uh, excuse me..." you mutter lamely.
"What I meant to say was-"
(Touch the cow!  Do it-)
You stop again, clenching your eyes shut and your fists tight as you force the accursed thoughts down.
You really didn't need this while the damned woman was standing right there...
"I-"
(Touch the cow!  Do-)
You stand suddenly, causing everyone else to lean back in response.
"Please excuse me!" you mutter quickly.
"I really need some air!"
With that you were off, leaving behind your now merrily gossiping colleagues and one oddly calm looking Mary.
In truth, you didn't need any air.
You just needed to get out of that public display and somewhere private.
Mainly, because you had one hell of a boner threatening to erupt from your zipper.
Where previously the unwanted thoughts had imposed and distracted, this time they had forcibly aroused, and almost overpowered.
Perhaps because she had been standing right there this time maybe?
Before now, the flashes of vision that accompanied the chanting were distant.
As if you were being shown a series of fuzzy polaroids where her 'assets' were just out of focus.
This time though, you had seen flashes of more, of her tight blouse popping open and of your own hands reaching out and...
Regardless, it had resulted in a need to hide your hastily growing shame somewhere before anyone could see.

So it was, you found yourself in the bathrooms, locked up in a cubicle and sat there waiting for your body to behave itself.
You had opened your zipper to grant your now fully erect member some breathing space.
There was no one else here, but you were damned if you were going to risk cracking one of at work though, so paying a visit to lady palm and her five lovely daughters wasn't an option.
No, you would wait in here until the party finished and then make your escape.
By then, your too painfully obvious boner should have gone back to sleep and there would be no further risk of-
(Touch the cow!  Do it n-)
No!
Fuck off!
...
Breathe Anon, just breathe...
It was then, as you held your head in your hands and tried to somehow block out the thoughts of big brown cow  boobs, you hear the main bathroom door open.
Click.
Wait, was that the lock on the main door?
"Anon?  I know you're in here..."
Is that... Mary?
Fuck...
---------------------

You hold your breath for what feels like an eternity, hoping against hope that your boss's boss doesn't realize you are hiding in here with a killer boner.
Perhaps you would have succeeded, if not for...
(Touch the Cow, do it now!)
The words hit you stronger than before, feeling somehow more intense and... different...
It causes you to snort slightly as you try and stifle a groan.
She hears it.
...
After a second of further silence, she speaks again.
"I know you're here Anon, I can hear you."
Her voice is cold, but insistent.
Yet you remain stone still, still hoping against hope that she will just go away and leave you to your madness and shame.
But the words in your head just don't agree.
(Touch the Cow, do it now!)
Again, each word hits like a brick against the inside of your skull, and you let out a hiss from between your pursed lips.
You hear high heeled footsteps move towards the line of cubicles, and the squeak of a door opening.
She had pushed open the first empty cubicle door, and was making her way to the second.
You were in the fourth, and last one.
Her voice called out again, echoing against the faded tile covered walls.
"Does it hurt Anon?" she asked.
"Does the voice calling out, the one you can't control, hurt you?"
You try and focus.
Did she mean the chanting voice that had been plaguing you?
Did she somehow know about-
(Touch the Cow, do it Now!)
"How does it feel, hearing voices that say such things, and knowing there is nothing you can do to stop them?"
She must know... she-
(Touch the Cow, Do It Now!)
The second cubicle door swung open, followed by the third, with the clicking of her footsteps getting closer all the while.
Until finally, they stopped outside your door.
"Answer me Anon, how does it feel?" 
She spoke in what was barely a whisper, but her words reached you loud and clear.
You try and speak.
"What's happening to-"
(Touch The Cow Do It Now!)
The chant hit again, blocking out almost everything else.
There was a click, as she used the emergency access key on the cubicle lock and opened the door.
It was there she found you, sat on the toilet (seat down), sweating and shaking, with only just enough sense left to cover your modesty with your hands.
Your boner stood tall, still hidden within your boxers but tenting upwards with an almost painful intensity.
It was there that you saw her too.
Still dressed smartly and standing stock still, in control.
Her face now bore a cruel smirk of satisfaction however, her eyes ablaze with righteous anger.
Her hands were no longer clasped behind her back though.
They were held before her, and holding... something.
In one hand she had a small doll, shaped like a man and seemingly wearing a little suit, much like yours.
It's face was featureless however, with the head lacking any normal features or hair.
It was just green, with a little question mark at the front.
In her other hand, she held a needle.
It was just a regular needle, a few inches long, thin, but with a weird little red flower at the top.
She suddenly jabbed the needle into the doll, roughly where the forehead would be.
Your vision exploded with scenes of bovine debauchery, as the now familiar chant called out louder than ever.
(Touch The Cow Do It Now!)
Then, it stopped, as suddenly as it had began.
You shakily see that she had removed the needle.
Her cruel smirk had widened into a nasty smile.
"Had enough?" she snickered.
You manage to build up the will to speak.
"Why... are you doing this?" you wheeze.
"What did I d-do to you?"
She snorted, her head shaking as she did.
"Oh I think you already know that Anon." she spat.
"Do you know what it's like?"
She moved a little closer, bending slightly to bring her eyes level with yours.
"Wherever I go out here it's always the same, different cities but same insults, different people but the same words!"
"If I'm lucky they wait until I'm out of earshot before they start with the names..."
She scowled.
"Do you know what it's like?  To be called things like 'beefsteak' or 'silly cow' day after day?"
"Or the times they just say it to my face?  Like 'Oh hey cowgirl, kinda thirsty right now so how about you whip out them udders and give me a drink'?!?"
She was seething now, another remembered or perceived insult pouring out with each breath.
She saw the look of innocence on your face, heard your silent pleas of 'but I didn't say those things', and pulled away.
"So when I get here to do my job, and they tell that this place is full of nice people..."
You saw the look in her eyes and your heart sank.
"And then, just as I start out on my first day here... I hear you talking to your little friends when you thought I wasn't looking."
You try to speak, to apologize or plead, but another jab of her needle cuts you off.
(Touch The Cow DO It Now!)
"Mary Milkers." she finished, as she pulled the needle free from the doll once more.
"So I decided to make somebody pay for once, using this little known art from my homeland."
(Touch The COW DO IT Now!)
Your world spins as she jams it into the doll again, far more forcibly than before.
"It's not something that's supposed to be used like this..." she mused, pulling it free once again.
"Not sure why though, since it's working a treat on you."
With each jab you felt something give way inside, some part of your tired mind loosen its grip on reality.
Only the damned words rang clear.
Seeing you slump against the cubicle wall, a measure of satisfaction began to cut through her set mask of anger.
"Well then, it looks like you are beginning to understand..."
Even though the needle was out, you still saw a few afterimages of her shapely bosom jiggling uncovered before you, and the chanting still echoed somewhere in the distance.
"I think that you've had enough... for now."
She smiled, seemingly done with the torment now that you couldn't apparently see straight anymore.
She leaned in closely, bringing her fuzzy lips to your ear.
"Ok, here's the deal." she whispered.
"I'm going to go now, enjoy the rest of the afternoon, and then be gone from this dump by tomorrow."
You listened, not able to do much else.
"But I'm going to keep this doll, and also keep a close eye on you too from afar, and if I ever catch you being a creep again in the future then I might just jam this pin in again and forget to take it out."
She pulled away with a chuckle, taking your lack of response as a sign of obedience.
She turned to go, but stopped.
She looked back down on you, a thoughtful expression now replacing the accustomed angry one.
"Before I go though, I'm curious about something..."
You stared up at her, willing her to just go away.
"I set this thing up to make you hear a voice when I jabbed it, to make you feel as I did, but I'm not sure what it said exactly."
Your mind was too busy swimming in its own juices to follow.
"What exactly did it say?" she asked carefully.
"Just so I know for next time?"
There wasn't much fight left in you at this point, do why not?
You shrug, and do your best to slur out the accursed chant.
"It said... T-touch the cow... do it-"
You found yourself again interrupted however before you could finished, by the sharp crack of her stamping a foot on the linoleum floor this time though rather than the chant.
"You what!?!" she nearly screeched.
"Even now you make damn cow jokes!?!"
You try and work out what just happened, but your time was up.
"Fine!" she yelled, holding up the doll once more.
"If you still think this is funny then just laugh this off!"
She sank the needle one last time into the doll, with enough force to pierce the thing completely and come out the other side.
The point sank into the soft flesh of her hand, causing her to let out a surprised yelp and drop the doll.
Once more you reeled as the all too familiar words forced their way in.
Except it was much much worse this time.
(TOUCH THE COW DO IT NOW!)
It was no longer a simple chant.
(TOUCH THE COW DO IT NOW!)
It was occluding all other thoughts.
(TOUCH THE COW DO IT NOW!)
It had become a command.
Mary had turned away from you, looking to see where the doll had fallen.
(TOUCH THE COW DO IT NOW!)
You reached out and obeyed, grabbing Mary's wide hips and pulling them down towards you.
She shrieked in surprise and reached out to try and stop herself, but it was too late.
You were touching the cow.
---------------------

V-Day

So it was, you found yourself sat on the toilet, with Mary sat upon your lap stiff as a board, and your arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
You wanted to say something, to let her go and run screaming from the building, but-
(TOUCH THE COW DO IT NOW!)
You couldn't move.
Having obeyed the booming command in your head, you could barely get an independent thought to form.
Mary for her part seemed to be in shock, just sitting there in your grasp as she tried to work out what was happening.
"Anon?" she said eventually.
"What are you doing?"
You couldn't respond, but neither could you comply.
"Let me go please." she said carefully, doing her best to maintain that air of control she had possessed only a few minutes ago.
She tried pulling herself up, pressing her hands against the cubicle walls and straining against you.
Your grip was as iron however, strengthened by madness and the command to keep touching the cow.
When she failed, and was forced to sit back down, she felt it.
Something hard, caught between her and your stomach, pressing against her rear through her skirt.
"W-what's that Anon?" she asked uncertainly.
"Do you have something in your pocket?"
You can say nothing, as you were busy trying not to pay attention to how soft and warm she felt in your grip, or the smell of flowery perfume invading your senses with every breath as she sat pressed against you.
(TOUCH THE COW DO IT NOW!)
She tried moving again, but succeeded in only increasing your hold on her.
"Anon... let me up right now!" she demanded.
There was panic in her voice now, as the situation spiraled further out of her control.
"I... can't..." you manage to mutter through gritted teeth.
"What?  Why!?!" she shouted, trying to turn and face you but stopping when she only succeeded in pressing your trapped erection tighter against her rear.
"Please..." you manage to wheeze.
"Take the... needle out... please..."
She stiffened.
She could see the dropped doll, it was against the wall opposite the cubicle door.
It had been kicked there accidentally as you had grabbed her from behind.
It was out of her reach.
"O-ok Anon... I'll take it out, but you need to just let me go so I can get it ok?"
For what it was worth, you tried.
But even as your grip slackened ever so slightly...
(TOUCH THE COW DO IT NOW!)
The voice inside howled in protest and you had no option but to comply.
She squeaked as you squeezed her tightly, unintentionally pressing your boner closer into her ass crack through your clothes.
She froze and held her breath.
"O-ok Anon just calm down ok?" she whimpered.
"Please..." you begged between ragged breaths.
"Make it stop..."
After a second she turned her head to try and face you again.
"Anon?" she asked.
You couldn't respond.
"Is... the voice making you do this?"
She was beginning to understand.
You nodded, your cheek now pressed tightly against her upper back.
"What is the voice saying Anon?" she almost whimpered, obviously dreading the answer.
You fought it, but the words couldn't be stopped.
"Touch... the cow... do it... now!"
She gasped.
"Touch the cow... over and again!" you croak.
"So you weren't joking before..." she muttered.
She looked back towards the doll.
"But I followed the instructions perfectly... and I didn't put the needle anywhere near... down there..."
It seemed something with her little voodoo thing had gone horribly wrong, and she was just now beginning to realize what kind of trouble she was.

While she was having this little understanding blossom within, you were dealing with your own problems.
Namely, the pressure growing in your head from the constant repeating commands to touch the cow already held firmly in your grasp, and the nearly unbearable need growing in the region of your crotch.
It was no longer a single command, but-
(TOUCH THE COW!)
 -a constant ponding through every-
 (DO IT NOW!)
 -thought.
She turned again.
"Ok Anon, I'm going for the doll, so just try and loosen your grip a little ok?"
She thought for a second.
"Just try distract your mind to block out the voice, so close your eyes and try count backwards from a hundred!"
You nod weakly.
One hundred...
(TOUCH!)
Ninety nine...
(THE!)
Ninety eight...
(COW!)
...
Oh god please hurry!
Your grip loosened for a second, and she pounced forwards, pulling herself from your lap and onto the floor just short of the doll.
It was almost enough.
As she leapt however, your hands moved seemingly of their own accord and tried to grab hold of her anew.
You failed to keep her on your lap, but succeeded in gripping her skirt.
As she reached the floor, her skirt found itself pulling free of her hips and dropping down around her knees.
You were given a full view of her big brown ass, her severe grey panties, and her until now concealed tail, which bore perhaps the only sign of personalization she had made to her appearance.
A little red bow, tied just above the tuft of hair at the end.
In the moment it took you to follow her to the floor, with the command to once more touch the cow blaring in your head, she had the opportunity to grab the doll and end this.
But she didn't.
Instead, she instinctively reached down to cover her own modesty from you with her hands, the loss of her skirt throwing her thoughts through a loop.
It was all the time you needed to reach her.
She grunted as you landed on top of her with a thump.
She was now on her stomach on the floor, one hand over her rump and the other pinned underneath her.
"Damnit Anon no!" she screeched, trying to wriggle free.
It was no good though.
You found yourself laid out across her legs, your arms now tightly wrapped around her upper legs, her thighs, as you once again held on with unnatural desire.
She wriggled and bucked, but from her awkward position she couldn't shake you.
In desperation, she reached out with her free hand for the doll, but succeeded in only swatting it, sending it sliding across the smooth floor to the other end of the room.
"Damn it!" she cursed, but you barely noticed.
Your face was now barely inches from her rump, held in place as firmly by your own tight grip as she was.
You try and avert your eyes, years of decency urging you to not look, but it was impossible.
You look, and take in the view of the valley between her ass cheeks, covered by the grey of her panties but irresistibly drawing you all the same.
With our face pressed against the back of her thighs, with your every breath whispering against her, she felt you there too.
It should have just been a stretch of nondescript grey material between her fuzzy cheeks, but you saw more.
Despite herself, moisture seemingly leaked from within, painting an outline of what was hidden underneath.
The scent down there changed also, from just her perfume and tinge of panicked sweat, to a whiff of something else...
Something primal.
Between this and the incessant commands put on you through the doll, you couldn't contain yourself anymore.
"I can't..." you mumble.
She cursed, twisting in your grip and flipping over onto her back.
"It's right there Anon!" she cursed, glaring at you with unrestrained anger.
"Just let me go and-"
It was too late now for that though.
Even as she protested, you pulled yourself up, your face resting upon her toned stomach now.
"I'm... sorry..." you mutter, as your hands take on a life of their own and work their way further up still.
She squeaked once more, kicking her legs in protest but succeeding only in sending her skirt flying free from where it had been caught at her feet.
Your hands find their way up to her breasts, sinking your fingers into the softness of her bosom and causing her to buck underneath you.
"Please..." she moaned, as you tore her blouse open, sending buttons flying skyward and her breasts bouncing almost free.
Only her bra remained, and it wouldn't stand long against you.
You pulled yourself up further still, burying your head between her buxom breasts, even as you tore her brassier asunder.
She had freed her other hand, and used both to try and pull your head free from her cleavage, but it was no good 
The chanting command was now absolute 
(TOUCH THE COW!) it demanded.
(DO IT NOW!)
So you did.

Her generous bosom was all encompassing, filling your senses with perfumed delight, and your vision with brown glory.
Each breast sported a large pink nipple, begging to be seen to.
So you instinctively began to lick and suckle on them in turn, eliciting a deep moan from Mary with each movement of your tongue.
She clawed at your back and shoulders, hitting out at the back of your head, but it was no good.
The doll she had enslaved you with was too strong, even for her.
All the while your erection strained against your boxers, painfully demanding release despite your now silent protests.
There was nothing left now to deny it.
While Mary lay there moaning, you reached down and pulled your aching meat free, pressing it against her moistened panties in readiness.
Her eyes snapped back from their rolling distraction to yours, the realisation of what was happening hitting home.
"Wait Anon please!" she begged.
"I'm not ready for-"
It was no use though, as thanks to her machinations, your mind was no longer its own.
Pulling aside her now wet panties, you pushed yourself forward, and penetrated her last line of defence.
She cried out in indignation, sinking her nails into your back as your face pushed up to reach level with hers.
Yet, you saw something more than the expected horror glitter across her features...
You hesitated, some part of you hoping that this act of invasion might satisfy the voice in your head, but it wasn't to be.
After an explosion of warmth, feeling the tight embrace of her inner sanctum, the chanting continued in earnest.
(TOUCH THE COW!) it screamed.
(DO IT NOW!) it demanded.
So you held her tight and thrust, burying as much of yourself inside of her as you physically could, all the he while squeezing on her pillowy breasts and hating yourself internally.
She moaned with each push you made inside of her, words failing as you made your advance upon her.

You had thought of yourself as one of 'those guys', the types who lasted for hours and could please a lady in one sitting...
Yet after only a few minutes you found yourself ready to blow.
In the circumstances however, you were ok with this.
So after a few thrusts you felt yourself release inside of her, the pulsing warmth of your seed being pumped within...
And yet...
As you lay there panting on top of her, the voice didn't subside.
(TOUCH THE COW!) it demanded.
It didn't care that you were already balls deep in her.
(DO IT NOW!) it screamed.
So even as you lay there recovering, you found yourself thrusting against her anew.
Mary had lay there, taking your manic ministrations as she realised her folly, but as you once more began your work she looked up into your eyes in panic.
"More!?!" she whimpered, as you looked down on her apologetically.
She made to struggle, but it didn't last long.
Not because you blew your top again too soon, but because despite herself, you hit something inside of her that she couldn't deal with.
You thrust inside of her again and again, pushing yourself as deep and hard as your aching muscles would allow.
Her eyes began to roll back, the accusing stare giving way to the instinctual itch you were scratching inside of her.
She sank her nails ever deeper into you, less in protest and more to gain purchase.
Even as you released a second time inside of her, you were compelled to continue, so you pushed harder and faster, longer and deeper.
She began working in motion with you, bucking her hips in time to your thrusts, seemingly to get the most out of each movement.
If it wasn't for the damned voice-
(TOUCH THE COW DO IT NOW!)
You might have been able to fool yourself into thinking this was somehow intimate.
As you felt yourself getting closer to your third release however, you also felt something change.
Mary was no longer fighting you, but now had her legs wrapped around your waist, her heels interlocking as she worked to keep you inside.
She was moaning and cursing, no longer speaking words but doing what she could to express her begrudged pleasure.
As you approached your final release, you heard her reach hers, far more vocally than expected.
You thrust as deeply as you could, your balls both aching and twitching in anticipation, until finally...
"A-anon... I-" she moaned, before...
"I-oh... Mmooooooooooo-"
She let rip, with a gutteral 'moo' that would put the finest farmyard heifer to shame.
She held it for what seemed like an eternity, as she clutched you close and screamed out her release.
And as it ended, you felt your mind clear ever so slightly...

You collapsed on top of her in your  exhaustion, wheezing as the last of the strength forced from your body left you.
Mary too went limp, a strange expression of carnal satisfaction across her long face.
Something was different though...
The voice was still there, demanding you continue touching the cow, but it was weaker, more distant.
You felt your own thoughts able to make it through the fog of lewd bovine touching compulsions.
So, looking up from your spot, perched on Mary's comfortable breasts, you spotted the doll.
It was barely a couple of meters away, on the other end of the bathroom where your captor/victim had knocked it.
Building what little strength you hadn't already spent ravaging the panting cow below, you began crawling across the floor.
It was hard, harder than anything you had physically attempted before, but you pulled yourself across to your goal.
With each inch, you felt the voice grow again in volume.
(TOUCH THE COW!) it screeched.
(DO IT NOW!) it begged.
But somehow, you made it.
Grabbing the little wool stuffed bastard, you managed to yank the needle from its head, and threw the pointed menace as far as you could across the bathroom.
Like some sort of miracle, the voice and the chanting stopped.
For the first time in weeks your mind was once more its own!
Panting, you looked back at Mary.
She was still very much out of it.
She was laid out on the floor, her clothes torn to hell (save her discarded skirt and jacket), and still panting after your exertions.
You felt like crap.
Like a monster.
Even though it had been her who forced this fucked up compulsion on you, it was still you in a way that had pinned her down and had your way with her.
Regardless of how much control you had over the act... you had damned enjoyed yourself.
So, without further ado, you decided to make a run for it.
Chances are you were going to burn for this, but the old fight or flight instinct had kicked in and you had no more fight left today.
As you charged the bathroom door and unlocked it, you saw Mary look up at you.
She pulled her jacket across herself and called out.
"Anon wait!"
But it was too late, you were gone.
You kept hold of the doll and made out of there like a bat out of hell, and you didn't look back.
--------------------

Armistice

In the days that followed you hid at home.
Despite believing you were at heart innocent, pushed into an act of depravity by Mary's messed up voodoo doll, ot whatever it had been, you knew it would look bad.
Even the most retarded of police investigators would look at her ripped clothes and believe whatever story she chose to spin for them.
They wouldn't believe your messed up little tale of dolls and needles and would most likely lock your sick ass away in prison for all time.
Yet...
Work hadn't called to query your absence, which had been odd.
The police hadn't kicked down your door to bust you either...
In fact, you hadn't heard anything at all since then, which was causing you no end of worry.
Was she playing with you?
Making you sweat while she took her time filing charges?
Was she busy compiling everything into a nice tidy blackmail folder and plotting what she would have you do in return for your freedom?
The not knowing was driving you quite mad...
On the fourth day of waiting though, you received a letter in the post.
You looked at the official envelope and thought it to be your notice of termination...
Yet when you opened it, there was something very different inside...
It read-

"Dear Mr Anon,
Following our recent meeting that took place on XX/XX/XX during my review of your branch, I wanted to respond to your contributionwith some feedback.
You brought to my attention several issues regarding your position that I found difficult to ignore.
After much reflection, it is my belief that you are not properly stimulated in your current position, and that you would be of much better use here at our Central office of operations.
It gives me great pleasure to offer you a position on a trial basis here directly under myself.
Accomodation will be provided with ample opportunity for progression dependant on performance.
I can authorize your transfer effective immediately dependant on your favourable response.
I look forward to your answer.
Yours faithfully,
Mary Maguire."

It took you an hour to read, re-read, and then read again her letter.
Was she really...?
Really?
In the envelope, you also found something else...
There was a little red ribbon, that smelled faintly of flowers, and something else far more feminine...
You checked the draw where you had stashed the doll, and found it had turned to so much dust.
What would happen if you declined?
Would she make another one to torment you?
Or would she leave you be?
As you pondered this though, a faint whisper tickled the back of your mind.
A simple shadow of a phrase, that sent shivers down your spine.
(Touch the cow.) it whispered.
(Do it now.)

~fin~