Page 55 of Milking His Lass

“Why?” a strange voice calls out. “Do you want to be punished?”

“Of course not,” I counter, doing my best to put on a brave voice. “Who would want to get punished?”

A thin shaft of light pierces my skull, bringing tears to my eyes. The shadow that walks in is tall, monstrous, but is a bit wider than Master Antroli. Where he’s lean lines of smooth muscle, this man looks stocky and wide. A metallic taste coats my mouth as bile rises in my throat.

Fear thrums through me until my body feels like a live wire. I wish to defend myself, but chained up like I am, I have no leverage. Balling my hands into fists, I bide my time, waiting for an opportunity to free myself. If I don’t pose as a threat, I have a better chance at him letting his guard down.

Thick, meaty fingers graze my face, the caress rough and possessive. “Oh, I think a cow like you wants to taste the leather from a real Icorian. Don’t you think?” Before I can come up with a witty reply, his hands skim down the column of my throat, hovering just over my pulse. “Poor thing. So frightened. I simply love feeling the fear waft off of you.”

“Y- you misunderstand,” I lie, my brain desperately trying to find coherent words. “It’s not fear you feel, but arousal. I suppose you are right. I do want to be punished.”

As the words leave my mouth, I feel sick to my stomach. Whoever this man is, I shouldn’t be entertaining their delusional ideals. Before I can say anything else, his hand jerks away from my throat, allowing me a breath of relieved air. All too soon, his hand comes back down, crashing across my cheek with such force that my neck wrenches to the side and my ears begin to ring.

Though I can’t see all that much in the dim lighting, what little vision I have blurs for a moment as darkness threatens to overtake me. A low ring buzzes in my ears, distorting the other sounds around me. Nausea bubbles up as everything clenches to the point of pain.

“Haven’t you been taught to never speak to an Icorian?” the stranger growls out. “My, my, but they are lax over at the neighboring ranch. To think you were allowed to speak with such conviction. Such impertinence. Don’t worry, cow. We will cure you of that soon enough.”

As he pulls away, he releases some of the tightness of the restraints until I double over, slumping to the floor. My breath sounds raspy to my ears as I suck in as much air as I can. In my breasts, the pressure begins to build again as my weight smashes against them. I long to cry out, to beg this alien for mercy, but I don’t dare.

Biting down on my lower lip, I let my mind wander to Master Antroli. I picture him there, next to me, reassuring me as to what a good little cow I am for him. Not like this man. This monster. The pain Master Antroli gave me was tempered with pleasure. This man seems to only want me to suffer.

But why? What did I do that was so wrong? Did Master Antroli discover my deception with his terminal? Am I in Icora’s version of jail? So many questions bounce around my skull, but never land. I dare not ask the man these things. He’ll only hurt me more.

Bringing my hands up to my chest, I cup my breasts, nearly groaning as I take off some of the pressure. Wetness coats my fingers as milk drips from me and covers the floor. The stranger growls and yanks at the chains, allowing me to move just a bit more.

It does nothing to help my situation. Soon, he snaps a lead onto my collar and jerks me onto my hands and feet. “Such insolence,” he snarls, yanking forward again. “Wasting your milk like that. I’ll teach you the consequences of your actions. You must be a glutton for punishment to allow yourself to drip all over my floors like that.”

I long to cry out, to tell him it’s not my fault. If only he’d milk me, then I wouldn’t have any leaking from my body. Helpless, I follow the stranger, groaning as he drags me into the bright hallway. Unlike Master Antroli’s ranch house, everything here is bright and sterile. The white walls go on and on with no end in sight.

He continues to drag me forward, not caring how my body screams at me with each movement. I have to keep moving. I can’t let him see he’s getting the better of me. Biting down on my lower lip, I resist the urge to cry out. If only I realized just how good I had it with Master Antroli and Master Rancher Vrokjan.

Neither of them would ever have treated me like this. True, there were petty disagreements, but he never resorted to violence to solve them. Not like this monster. He keeps a fast pace, forcing my burning thighs and arms to keep pumping as I follow. It’s either that or he’ll end up dragging me.

Either way, we press forward to the door looming at the end. What’s behind it, I don’t know. In my gut, I know I don’t want to find out.

Chapter 26

Fiona

He shoves it open with a loud bang and turns on the light, revealing a large room. It’s similar in size to Master Antroli’s, but not nearly as comfortable. Large windows overlook the blue grasses and Ovibrosia, just like Master Antroli’s, but the view is different. It’s similar enough to back up what he said earlier about it being a neighboring farm.

Was I stolen then? Is this not a jailer? Anger burns in my gut as he leads me to the side room—a bathroom—and shoves me into a freezing shower. His hands are rough, digging into my skin as he removes my kneepads. When his fingers skim around the tail, I stop in fear.

He shouldn’t be touching me there. Only Master Antroli attends to me until I have to go to the bathroom. I jerk forward, but his arm wraps around my waist, pinning me down to the floor. He takes no care as he pulls the plug from me, yanking it out as I scream out in agony.

“My, this is certainly larger than the plugs my cows tolerate. Seems I’ve been gifted with an anal slut.” He turns me over, allowing me to see his face for the first time.

Terror coats my insides as I recognize him from the pens at the auction house. This can’t be. Master Antroli won me fair and square. How does this man have me? The man my owner swore would never touch me.

“Tell me, cow, has your owner taken your ass yet?”

“N- no.” The instant the word leaves my mouth, he strikes me again.

Unable to hold back, I choke out a sob, turning so I can spit blood into the flowing, frigid water. The taste of copper churns my gut as he grips my jaw and forces my face back to his. “What did I say about speaking to me?”

This time, instead of falling for his tricks, I shake my head. Seemingly satisfied, he takes off the hooves and tosses them to floor. “Such a filthy heifer,” he sneers. “Time to clean you up.”

His fingers yank at the snarls in my hair, bringing tears to my eyes. Each touch is rough and demanding, making my skin feel sore and bruised. I can’t break down in front of him. To cry would be to show weakness. This monster would only get off on it.

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