His hands frequently shot down to it, caressing the soft hill, obsessed with what he had done to her – especially while they were in the heat of coupling. Mallory had agreed to let him attach a chain to her collar just a few weeks after her announcement. It was his latest control kick, signifying the way he had come to dominate her. She allowed him to lead her through the apartment, naked on all fours. Sometimes, Hughes delighted in crushing up her Pi Lactate pills and putting them in her food dish. She lapped it up from her bowl on the floor. The drug was mushed into peach ice cream – a favorite that Hughes kept her well supplied with – and it made what should have been a humiliating task very easy. “You're so good, Mallory,” he told her, stroking the top of her head as she lapped up her dosage from the floor. Her breasts were changing even more with pregnancy, their nipples darkening and expanding outward. They called to him, fleshy beacons swaying beneath her. Each dripped its irresistible nectar when she wasn't attached to the milking machine.
