“I’m not property!”

You protest in your high feminine voice.

“Um. You’re a petgirl. A breeder. You’ll get the urges soon.” He said as he approached with a collar with a large cowbell hanging from it and collared you. You struggled briefly but not hard. “I’m going to keep you. If you stay here you’ll just be hooked up to a milking machine. They’ll breed you.”

You swallow in fear. He reaches between your legs and runs a hand over your sex. It feels good. You fight not to moan and growl, “no. I’m a man. Not property. Not a cowgirl.”

“You’re wrong. You need to understand that,” He shakes his head as he pushed you back onto the shed floor and turns you around, pinning your small large breasted body to the ground. You hear him unbuckling his pants.

“Stop this.” You quiver. You can’t be getting excited. Aroused. Your new female sex quivers. Your fat nipples go hard with sexual tension. As his cock presses your lips apart you find your legs spreading of their own accord, your hips rocking. He thrusts into you and you shiver: