Beth, marked as a breeding cow wherever she goes

You slap the table next to you, and Beth starts. She dismounts your cock and climbs onto the table, head down, not meeting the stares of her voyeurs. Beth lies down on the table with her legs up, making sure that your sperm gets where it needs to go. You stick your cock in her face and she obediently cleans as much of it as she can with her tongue. You wipe any stickiness she misses on her cheeks and her glasses, smudging them nicely. Her red bangs are stuck to her sweaty face. She gives a sad little sigh as you turn away. Bitch.

Normally, you’d be done here. But today, you brought something special for her. Something that you think might finally drive the message home that she’s just a useless cow. You reach into your backpack and pull out a black leather collar with a miniature dull metal cowbell.

One of your soldiers helped you come up with this one over drinks a few nights ago. It’s technically not clothes, so Beth can wear it all the time. Heavy, too, so she won’t forget it’s there. You toss it onto her big milky tits, startling her again.

“Put that on, cow. You’re going to look the part from now on,” you say. Beth picks up the collar and examines it, wiping her dirty glasses to get a better look as your cum drips from her stretched hole.

“Charlie, what is-” Beth stops, her eyes wide with fear. She knows you won’t do shit now, when she’s carrying your baby, but you always make sure she pays for addressing you so familiarly when your children are safely outside her.

“What the fuck do you think it is, cow? People need to know when there’s a cow nearby, don’t you know that?” You walk up to her, your jaw clenched, hands held at your sides. Your discipline is all that’s saving her now.

“Yes, sir,” Beth says, still looking closely at the collar.

“Put it on!” you snap. She hurriedly fumbles the leather band around her neck. Her trembling fingers can’t quite manage the clasp. You scoff and secure it for her. Not too tight, you still want your baby to have oxygen. Beth looks up at you with her frightened brown eyes big and blurry through her smudged glasses. She touches the collar, fiddling with the bell. Its sound is muted, and higher than a real cowbell.

“You like that, cow?” you sneer.

“Yes, sir!” Beth nods, a little too quickly. A little too unrestrained. Is this whore being sincere? Beth opens her mouth to say something else, but stops herself. No, she’s saying what she knows she’s supposed to say. You’ve treated her like a useless whore for as long as you’ve known her. She’s dumb, but even Beth wouldn’t be confused enough to actually like that stupid collar. You turn and walk back to your bag, leaving her lying there.

“Sir!” Beth cries out. You shoulder your bag, and look back at Beth’s cum-filled cunt as she holds her legs apart with her hands. She lifts her head from the picnic table to look at you through the valley between her big tits. “Would sir like this cow to… warm his bed tonight?” Beth asks, like it's a perfectly fucking normal thing to ask. Is this whore stupid AND crazy?