Page 44 of Milking His Lass

“Celestials, but you’re taking it so well. Almost in, my pet. Such a good little cow for your Rancher. Just wait until it’s my cock stretching you out, filling your ass up with my thick, hot cum.”

My pussy spasms at his filthy words, and again, I moan. Funny how each minute that passes by on this planet, it’s sounding less like a human moan and more like the cow he’s training me to be.

Minutes stretch by as he works in the plug, taking his time so as to not harm me. The stretch is immense. My fingers score the tile floor as he pushes in, his actions relentless. After a bit, the large part pops in, allowing my bottom hole to clench around the base.

Groaning, I rock back and forth, reveling in the heavy weight deep inside me. I clench around the metal as I desperately seek my orgasm. Soon. I just have to make it to breakfast. Rising onto my heels, I wait as patiently as I can for him to latch the lead onto my collar and help me up.

The dining room bustles with men preparing for their day. However, the moment we step further in, they stop and stare at my breasts. The hunger in their gazes only stirs up my arousal even more. I know Master Antroli won’t let them touch me, so I can revel in their admiration without fear of molestation.

As he helps me down onto the plush pillow next to his chair, I groan as my breasts bounce with the movement. So heavy. So full. The little he drank earlier seems to have done nothing. Now, they jut out, swollen, tender, and bordering on painful.

“Soon, my beautiful lass,” he murmurs, stroking my hair. “Once Vrokjan and Jessica get here, we will get you milked.”

I sit there as calmly as possible, but in my head, I count out the seconds. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait too much longer before they both enter. The poor girl looks even more miserable than I feel. Her breasts are at least double my size and just as swollen.

Next to me, Master Antroli lets out a sigh of relief. “I was getting worried. Fiona is desperate to be milked, but I didn’t want to start without you.”

Vrokjan walks over and claps his hand on his shoulder. “Next time, don’t make her suffer. I will understand. Just like if you’re ever running behind, I’ll take care of my own.”

They speak as if this is a normal, everyday occurrence. Which, to them, it certainly is. To me, however, it takes a bit to get used to. With another smile in my direction, Master Vrokjan looks over at the other Ranchers gathering around.

“Celestials,” Vrokjan cries out, making me jolt a touch at the tenor of his voice. “We gather at this table to partake in the milk so graciously provided to us. May we drink it with the reverence in which it is given. Allow it to nourish us and strengthen us.”

Not being a stranger to religion myself, it feels almost comforting to have him offer a blessing over our milk—even if the nature of retrieving it is probably looked down upon by any minister you might ask.

Off to the side, another Rancher speaks up, his lips curling up into a mischievous grin. “And make us more money than we know what to do with,” he cackles, earning jabs and smiles from the others, including the stoic Vrokjan.

My eyes widen as I take in the scene, a laugh hovering on my lips. It dies down when I look over at Jessica. She looks like a deer, or cow rather, caught in the headlights. For her sake, I try to be a show of force as Master Antroli helps me onto the table.

Her breath is haggard as I lay my head next to hers. Poor thing is shaking in fear. I too tremble, but mine is from the need to be milked, the need to be pleasured, but more so the need to please my Rancher. I don’t dare say so to her.

Instead, I let her think I’m just as frightened. When she offers me her hand, I take it, grabbing on tightly. Right now, she needs a friend. She needs to not feel so alone. I know nothing of Master Vrokjan, but if he’s anything like Master Antroli, he will be a kind owner while she’s here for the year.

Her fingers tighten around mine as the others draw near. Fear is palpable in the air. Did Master Vrokjan not give her the same reassurances? Or is she to be shared since he’s the Owner of this ranch?

“Shhh, my pretty cow,” Master Vrokjan murmurs. “I’ve told you they will not drink from you. Trust my words. I have not deceived you thus far.”

Closing my eyes, I continue to offer what little strength I can. Unfortunately, the sensations washing over my body refuse to allow me to lie there still. I squirm next to Jessica, desperation replacing fear. Thankfully, after her Master’s words, she calms down a touch. I so wish she’d be able to enjoy the process like I am.

Master Antroli’s hand grazes my hip, his touch full of promise. Looking into his light blue eyes, I find myself nearly giddy as the men surround us with their bowls and cups. I never thought of myself as an exhibitionist before now, but seeing the lust on their faces causes arousal to drip from my pussy and onto the table.

Soon. Master Antroli will let me orgasm soon. He has to, or I’ll fucking combust.

Chapter 20

Antroli

Fiona’s pussy drips as she lays there, her breathing haggard as she tries her best to remain still. Poor little cow. The need on her face is evident as she stares down at me from between her thighs.

Rising, I make my way to the milking machine and grab the thin tubes. Around us, the men shuffle about, their bowls and mugs clinking a bit as they get into position. On the table, both cows jolt a touch with each sound.

I can tell Fiona’s actions are more akin to anticipation, but poor Jessica seems petrified. If she can’t calm down, I’m sure her milk will taste just awful. Thankfully, Vrokjan, as usual, has things well in hand. As soon as he puts the little machine in her hungry pussy, she settles right back down.

With an indulgent grin, I stare down at my heifer. Her lips tremble as I place the suction cups on her nipples. Once the milk starts flowing, she arches up, the soft sounds of pleasure rising from her parted lips to fill the room.

The Ranch Hands take their bowls and mugs to the small spout and get their fill, their eyes wide as saucers as they lick their lips. They can’t even imagine how good Fiona is going to taste. Granted, with both sets of milks going into one spot, it will be hard to tell one flavor from the other.

Vrokjan and I get ours last and take a seat at the opposite ends of the table. Once I’m in place, I, too, slide the small machine into my cow. Her moans turn to soft moos as the little attachment attends to her clit, leaving Vrokjan and I free to converse with the others.

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