Page 65 of Runaway Hucow

“Why didn’t you want my help? Were you worried you wouldn’t like the way I milked you?”

For a moment, Tess considered lying again, but she knew it would be useless. The alpha could see right through her.

“I was afraid I would like it too much,” she admitted.

Roscoe grunted. “Well, little hucow, I guess we’re going to find out, because I am going to milk you. I’m going to spank you too. The only question is, which one do you want me to do first?”

CHAPTER 33

As Roscoe stared down at the little hucow standing before him, a single thought kept running through his mind—she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful female he had ever seen. At the moment, she was half naked. Her dress and undergarments were spread out on the grass next to the wall of the barn, and the only thing she still had on was a pair of white, knee-length women’s drawers. Her upper body was bare, and she was holding her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide her naked breasts from his eyes. It wasn’t working very well. There was more of her than her arms could hide. A lot more.

But it wasn’t her state of undress that was making Roscoe’s balls ache with desire. It was the look of defiance burning in her big, brown eyes. She had the heart of a fighter, this little hucow, and that was exactly the kind of trait Roscoe would want in a mate.

“Well?” he said. “What’s it going to be, Tess? Spanking first, or milking?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking? You lied to me, little hucow. And I told you last night, I won’t tolerate any lies while you’re living under my roof.”

Her face reddened with anger. Instead of backing away, as most hucows would have done, she actually took a step toward him and stabbed her finger angrily against his chest.

“You lied to me!” she said. “You told me you were going to stay in the house and rest. You shouldn’t be walking around on that wounded leg, you big, dumb oaf. If anything, I should be the one spanking you.”

Now there was an idea.

“Fine,” said Roscoe. “I guess I should take my britches off for that.”

He flung his belt over his shoulder and started unfastening the buttons of his fly. The little hucow just stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. When he pushed his britches down and his hard cock came swinging out, her eyes went even wider.

Roscoe kicked his trousers aside and turned around, giving her a look at his bare hindquarters. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

He glanced back at the little hucow and saw that the heat had returned to her eyes.

“That’s not fair,” she said. “If I spanked your butt, I’d probably just end up hurting my hand. You’re a lot bigger and stronger than I am.”

“That’s right,” Roscoe said, turning to face her again. “I’m the biggest and strongest in the whole damn valley. I’ve got the biggest horns, and I’ve got the biggest cock, and I’ve got the biggest balls. That’s why I get to make the rules.”

He stalked toward her, and this time she did back away from him, but she only made it a few short steps before her bottom bumped against the side of the barn. She let out a little gasp and dropped her hands to her sides, exposing her round breasts and erect nipples. Roscoe closed the distance between them until the tip of his hard cock was pressing against her soft belly, pinning her in place.

“Now then, I’m going to ask you one last time, and if you don’t give me an answer, I’m going to choose for you. What do you want first, little hucow—my mouth on your tits, or my strap on your ass?”

The hucow bit her lip as she thought about it.

“Your mouth,” she whispered at last. “My breasts are so full, I think I would explode before you could finish spanking me.”

“As you wish,” Roscoe said.

He placed his hands on her breasts and felt the weight of them. They looked significantly larger than they had even a few hours ago. He pinched her nipples, rolling them gently between forefinger and thumb, and warm milk leaked out of her.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding about being full,” Roscoe muttered. “You poor little thing.”

He went down on one knee in front of her, taking care to keep his weight off his bad leg. The wound still hurt like the dickens, but right now he really didn’t care. The hucow was hurting worse than he was, and it was his duty to make her feel better. His duty, and his honor.

She was so small, when he knelt in front of her, her chest was almost level with his face. He paused for a moment, drinking in her beauty with his eyes. Then he leaned forward and began to drink her with his mouth. He started with her left breast, and no sooner had he wrapped his lips around her nipple than her milk started spurting onto his tongue, warm and creamy and sweet. The little hucow clutched both of his horns and moaned with relief.

“Oh God,” she said. “Don’t stop, Roscoe. Don’t stop…”

Roscoe was not accustomed to being told what to do, especially not by a female. The last woman who had ever told him what to do had been Granny Walker, and she’d been a whole lot older than him, and full of enough frontier sternness to keep even a wild young minotaur such as himself in line. The hucow was a different matter. Yes, she was a defiant little creature, and yes, Roscoe liked that about her, but he wasn’t about to let her boss him around. He had half a mind to stop milking her and commence with her spanking. But that would just be cruel, and Roscoe was not cruel. Hard, yes—but not cruel.