“Here, Aunt Tracy, I got your coffee for you,” the largish woman in her thirties called to the stylish executive woman in her mid-fifties as she entered the coffee shop. Tracy looked surprised to see her niece, but walked over and set her briefcase on the table, and moved to hug her.

“Hi, Lisa! What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Well, I was in the neighborhood and knew this was your shop, and thought I’d surprise you!” replied the corpulent woman.

“Ah! What a treat!” lied the older woman with every indication of unfeigned pleasure as she sat down. “How is your mother?”

“She’s a cranky bitch,” said Lisa. “She’s unhappy I’m still unemployed and husbandless. She thinks I should find someone to support me or work.”

“Mm,” was Tracy’s uncommittal answer, taking a sip of her coffee. Her sister was right, of course, but saying anything like that to Lisa would be striking matches at a petrol station. The explosion wasn’t worth it.

“How is your husband?” asked Lisa.

“Out of town on business for a couple of weeks,” answered Tracy, rubbing her eyes. The previous night had been tense, as Martin had the sexual skills of an unimaginative rabbit, but without the frequency. It was short, fast, from behind, and deeply unsatisying.

“Martin doing the jackrabbit again?” grinned Lisa.

“Ye...” started Tracy, then focused on her niece. “How do you...”

“Mum, of course,” answered Lisa. “We think you should try someone different.”

“Hah!” said Tracy, taking a large swallow of her coffee to hide her discomfort. “Look, that’s easier said than done. It just isn’t that easy.” She felt her mood sour further, and a weight settled on her spirit. She felt tired. Talking about Martin always did that to her.

“It can’t be that hard said Lisa. “How does that old song go? ‘Hop on the bus, Gus, make a new plan, Stan, just drop off the key, Lee... ‘.”

“It’s a lot more comp ... complicated,” said Tracy, “ ... than that. There’re ... things ... you don’t understand...”

“Now, Aunt Tracy, I think we can fix both our problems! Your mind is slowing down now. In a minute, you won’t be able to think, and you’re going to get up and follow me.”

“Got ... work ... must ... meeting...”

“Did you know there is no surveillance in this block, or in this shop?” Lisa asked brightly.

“Wha... ?”

“There we go, Aunt Tracy, time to get up, there’s a car right outside. Come on now,” Lisa helped her aunt to stand, and walked her out of the coffee shop. The barista in the back didn’t notice.

Tracy awoke chained into a steel contraption that supported her upper chest and shoulders and stomach, but let her tits dangle below her. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but wasn’t causing her pain. She was in a bedroom, she saw, because there was a bed directly in front of her. She was positioned so that someone laying in the bed could watch her, and if someone were in the bed she couldn’t miss seeing them. The bed was empty at the moment.

She heard someone enter the room behind her. “Wow, Aunt Tracy, you are a real perv, you know that? I’ve been looking through your laptop, and you have more than a few interesting fetishes! I had no idea! I don’t really understand them, but damn! A sex slave maid with tits down to your waist and a fat belly? That gets off on milk-filled tits and being made to do things?”

“Lisa? What? Where am I?”

“Oh, a little place I rented with some money from Grandmother. I had planned to mess with you, sort of hold you and keep you drugged as I drained your accounts, make Martin think you’d left him, have you wake up someplace weird with no idea how you’d gotten there. But after reading your laptop browser history and some of those emails, I’ve got a much better idea!”

Tracy felt a chill run down her spine. Would Lisa blackmail her with her fantasy life? It was the sort of thing she might do.

“I’ve answered the guy who offered to make your fantasies come true, the guy you’ve been corresponding with for a year? I gave him an address to send those supplements he offered, and I’ve downloaded those subliminal mind control recordings he made for you. We’re going to make your fantasies actually come true, Aunt Tracy! It’s funny that you actually fantasize about this! And now it’s going to happen!”

Tracy was actually alarmed, now. “Those were all just fantasies! I don’t really want to be turned into a lactating slut -- that’s just a fantasy to jill off with!”

“Oh, Aunt Tracy, I know that! You’re too much of a prim executive businesswoman-type to ever really think about lowering yourself like that for real! But you see, I want your money. I’m slowly draining it from all your accounts. And I want to have some fun and rub your posh nose in it, too! Best of all, when all is said and done, you’ll be on a plane to America to become an eager sex maid scrubbing toilets, and I will never have to worry about this, or you, again!”

Tracy drew a breath and screamed, loud and long. When she ran out of breath she heard Lisa laughing.

“Really, Aunt Tracy, you don’t think I’d kidnap someone and keep them where anyone could hear you scream, do you? You can scream all you want. We’re safe.”

Tracy tried another tack. “I’ve got to pee!”

“No, you don’t. You see, one of the many jobs I can’t keep involved catheterizing and tubing people in a nursing home. You don’t have to pee or shit. It is all drained out of you. It has been for days as I’ve found my way into your accounts. I know some right bastards who’ve given me enough drugs to keep you asleep for weeks.”

“Lisa! Lisa, don’t do this! I’ll give it all to you!”

“Oh, Aunt Tracy, I know what you really want, down under all the things you’ve been taught and trained to be. I know you need to be depraved, and I know you want me to make you that way!” She paused, and added, “And mother. I’m not sure I want to share you with Mother, though. She’d wind up with all your money and anything else she could get her claws on. But I think I’m going to have a lot of fun!” Lisa paused, looking at her Aunt. “And I think you will, too! More than you can admit ... for now.”

Tracy, for the first time in a long time, wept in fear. Her niece pinched her nipples as she did so, and the fear grew as Tracy realized she felt sexual arousal.

Her niece, still laughing, opened a can and poured it into the bag that led to the tube down her nose that emptied into her stomach. The lettering on the can said it was high calorie food supplement for maximum weight gain.

A long time had passed. It was hard to tell how long. There were no clues, no glimmer of sunlight, no sounds from outside to give Tracy a hint. There were vibrators in her pussy and ass, plugged into timers somewhere behind her. They turned on every so often, but Tracy couldn’t tell if they were random, evenly spaced, or how many times they went off in a day. They were held inside her with some kind of diaperish contraption that had holes for the tubes inside her to pass through. She had headphones on her head, held on with medical tape so she couldn’t dislodge them, that played a series of tones over and over again. She knew there were subliminal messages behind those tones -- she had asked for them, knew what they were, and even approved them, as a fantasy. She knew what they were drilling into her mind. In front of her was her laptop, displaying a series of pictures on an infinite loop, showing the man she had corresponded with and his wife, video clips of sex, pussies being filled with cock, tongues licking pussies, breasts with milk-droplets coming out of nipples, cocks being sucked, men and women nursing from other women, pictures of her with short curly gray hair and long droopy tits, words like “maid” and “slut” and “obey” and “serve”, clips of a porn movie about a sex maid, bits of stories she had masturbated to many times, emails she had sent expressing her fantasies, and what she wanted to read in stories. All of which she found erotic and exciting. They were her fantasies, and they were becoming her needs.

Her niece would come in every so often and fill her feed bag, adding things to it that made her dizzy and sleepy and unable to think. Once, Lisa bounced in and said her package from America had arrived, and she used the laptop to make sure she got the dosages right, then added those to the feedbag.

Tracy wasn’t sure when she started licking Lisa’s pussy. It had become very, very important to make Lisa cum. Tracy was feeling distress that she couldn’t clean the room she was in -- she needed to be on her knees, scrubbing and cleaning so she could deserve to cum. She felt amazingly guilty to cum when she didn’t deserve to, she hadn’t earned it, and the feeling of wrongness tortured her.

Making Lisa cum was her only way of earning her pleasure, so she tried her very best for her. Lisa would climb beneath her stand and suck her nipples, hard, very hard, a lot. It hurt and felt so good at the same time! She felt guilty about those good feelings, too. She knew she should be making milk for Lisa. She felt worthless, unable to do the things she should be doing. She no longer could hear the tones in the headphones, they were constant as breathing, but they kept her brain in its pliable state, the subliminals becoming engraved and ingrained in her mind. Other things faded and vanished.

One day, on a very good day, Lisa told her that she’d emptied the accounts, and that they’d stopped looking for her -- they thought she’d run off to Spain as there was a photograph taken there of a woman who looked like her. That wasn’t the good part though, of course -- it was a good day because that was the day her milk came in. She came as Lisa nursed from her titties, and she enjoyed the cum because she’d earned it. It felt so sexy and so perverted and so right! It was what she had wanted, to have Lisa nurse from her titties and to make Lisa cum. It was what she had wanted -- she remembered having wanted it. She wished it made her happier.

She didn’t like Lisa. Lisa wouldn’t let her serve as she should. There was a man and woman she loved, that loved her, that wanted her to serve them the right way. She dreamed of them. It was easy to dream of them, she saw their pictures many times a day on the laptop, their faces were burned into her brain, and she wanted them so very badly. She knew that they would make her dreams come true the right way.

One day, Lisa brought a man in to tattoo makeup on her face, her whole face. She didn’t recognize the woman that Lisa showed her in the mirror until Lisa told her that was what she looked like now, and the makeup would never come off. It changed the angles and shape of her face somehow. It was actually quite attractive and done well. But no one would ever recognize her for who she had been. She came when she realized that. It was something else she had always wanted, but it still wasn’t enough.

Lisa was making her drink so much of the mixtures, and her titties got so full they hurt very badly until Lisa drained them, sometimes with her mouth, sometimes into a pail like a cow, just to make her feel humiliated. Lisa didn’t realize that she enjoyed it either way, that the humiliation turned her on now. Or maybe she did know.

Lisa had the same man who had done her face come in and pierce her clitoris so that it was always erect, held that way, and stimulated every time she moved. Lisa had gotten several tubes of gel from America, too, and they kept her nipples stiff, so that she was always aware of her nipples and pussy. She could no longer not be aware of them.