Page 26 of Milked for the Holidays

He looks me over for a moment before pulling out that odd wand again. With a sweep of his hand, he runs it over before pausing at my breasts. His lips turn down into a frown.

“I’ve never seen anything like this. Her breast tissue has grown exponentially. Far more than other cows we’ve had. She is nearly bursting with how much milk she’s produced. You might have to milk her three times a day instead of two. I worry any deviation might cause extreme pain for her.”

He reaches up and squeezes my breast, dragging a scream from my throat. Vrokjan snarls at his brother and pulls me back into his arms.

“Couldn’t you be more gentle?”

With a puzzled look, he reaches over and pinches my Rancher’s arm. “That’s the pressure I used. It shouldn’t have caused that much pain. Milk her, then I’ll examine her.”

With a nod, Vrokjan pulls me away and into a room off to the side. Despite the pain radiating through my chest, I stop at the door, not wishing to go in any further. A strange metallic contraption sits in the middle with tubes running off to the side.

There’s an odd bench coming off it that looks just as uncomfortable. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I stay planted as he fiddles with some knobs and makes adjustments. When he motions for me to come forward, I shake my head, not wanting anywhere near that thing.

With an exasperated sigh, he strides over to me, his face set in a firm frown. “You’re still far too weak to fight me. I will win if you choose to be obstinate. Obey me. Be my good little cow, and I will reward you. Refuse, and you’ll not know any pleasure tonight.”

The way he says the word pleasure courses through my body as if he’s touching me. Fear and desperation war as he picks up the lead. He doesn’t tug on it, though. Oh, no. He waits for me to make the choice.

With a groan, I walk over to him, despising the way his bright smile makes my insides flip. All of this is wrong, and I shouldn’t be finding any sort of pleasure in it. But honestly, I can’t fight anymore. I don’t have the strength or willpower.

Vrokjan positions me on the bench. The front cups my breasts, taking the weight off of me. Sagging in relief, I lean against the smooth, leathery texture and breathe.

“I’m going to take the gag out now, so I suppose it’s time we go over the rules.”

At this point, I don’t care what he says or does. Just being able to breathe and not have each inhale laced with pain is enough for me to hang on to his every word. His fingers work at the latch on the back of my head, and within moments, he slips the object out and hangs it on a piece of metal in front of me.

It dangles there, menacing, a threat. Unfortunately, I can’t help the groan that rumbles past my lips. I’m not sure if it’s against the rules or not, but it feels so damn good to not have my mouth stretched out and my tongue imprisoned.

With an indulgent smile, he slides his knuckle under my chin and holds my face still. “These rules are important. I don’t wish to hurt you, but I will if you leave me no choice.”

My ass throbs as his words slither into my brain. Leaning over, he grabs what looks like a canteen and holds it to my lips. When I reach for it, he swats my hands away.

“I’m tending to you now. Allow me.”

Unbidden, my mind goes back to Enook. “Allow me to attend.” It ripples through my body, making my pussy spasm again. Nothing is stopping Vrokjan from attending to every single need, including sexual.

Pushing those thoughts out, I gulp down the water, moaning as the cool, sweet liquid streams down my throat. He indulges me, allowing me to drink my fill until I cannot take any more. As he draws the canteen away, he holds his fingers in front of my lips, keeping me from speaking.

“While you are outside of my home, you are not allowed to speak. No cow is. Those who go out to pasture may speak to each other in soft tones but must stop the instant a Rancher is in earshot. If you have a need or must get my attention, you will make a mooing sound. Now then, let me hear it. Let me hear your sweet moo.”

My face screws up as revulsion settles like lead in my gut. It’s bad enough I’ve been transformed into this lactation device, existing for their pleasure, but I have to moo now, too? I’d rather stay silent the rest of my life than to let such a sound pass from my lips.

“No? You wish to be a stubborn heifer? No matter. You’ll moo for me soon enough.”

Pulling up a stool, he sits across from me. Though he’s tall, the bench has my breasts at his face. His hot breath fans over my poor nipples, sending a ripple of desperation through me.

He locks eyes with mine as he lowers his face. I’m helpless as his tongue snakes out, full of sensual promise. He laps at my nipple, moaning as he tastes my milk for the first time.

“Celestials,” he grinds out. “Your milk is even sweeter than I could imagine.” His voice is like a growl against my tender skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

Reaching around the bench, he pulls my hips forward. My legs spread open, straining around the part holding up my breasts. As he wraps his lips around my taut nipple, a section opens up, allowing him to slide his hand forward.

The brush of his fingers against my clit is like lightning. I arch up, a gasp hovering on my lips. But I don’t dare let the sound out. He teases my nipple with his tongue before sucking deep.

This isn’t anything like with Enook. There was no fire there, no heat, or desperation. Her sucking was perfunctory, clinical. Vrokjan sucks on me as if he’s parched, wandering the desert for days without water.

He laps at me, moaning as he takes my milk into his body. Arching forward, I thrust my breast further into his face, desperately needing the relief his lips promise. I grind against his fingers, my insides coiling as red-hot pleasure coats me from the inside out.

Pulling away, he attends to the other breast, licking the nipple before sucking on it. My eyes nearly cross as the pain drains from my body, leaving pure pleasure in its wake. I dig my fingers into the bench as unholy sounds threaten to leave my lips.