Page 9 of M!lked For His Pleasure

It’s easier said than done. If the heart rate monitor is any indication, instead of calming, my body goes into overdrive. Milk. Cow. And just like that, it all makes sense. I’m not here for some pleasured-filled getaway.

I’m going to be a cow for them. My body erupts into a flurry of movement. Behind my gag, frenetic wails fill the space with muffled grunts. With a sigh, he glances down at Kanaes and nods.

Pleasure explodes through me, turning off the panic. It’s as if a switch is flipped, transforming me from a frantic mess to a needy wanton. Kanaes teases my clit with his fingers, purposefully amping up my need. White-hot desire fills my core, taking my mind off the pain in my breasts.

Tirayasu looms over me and grabs them, dragging a ragged moan from my throat. It hurts. Dear God, it hurts. However, it’s tempered with a bite of pleasure, morphing it from hurts so bad tofookinghurts so damn good. As uncomfortable as it is, I need more. I crave more.

“That’s a good little cow,” he groans, shifting his hips back and forth behind my head. “Moan for us.”

His fingers pluck at my nipples, and everything just melts away. All there is in that moment is pleasure and pain in equalmeasure. He milks me, tugging on my nipples from the base and pulling up.

After a few moments of his ministrations, a bit of wetness coats my skin. He pulls away and comes into view, forcing me to watch as he drags his finger around my areola, gathering my milk before easing his thick digit into his mouth. His eyes flutter close as a groan stutters past his lips.

“Celestials,” he grinds out. “She tastes so fucking good.”

Kanaes comes out from in between my thighs, leaving me wet, wanting, and desperate. I pray he’ll lean down and take my milk directly from the source, but he does no such thing. Like Tirayasu, he plays with my nipple until more milk beads at the surface. Instead of licking it off as I so desperately want him to do, he gathers it with his finger and tastes me.

“Fuck. Her Rancher will be a lucky man. Maybe I’ll bid this time.”

Tirayasu chuckles and pulls away. “Right. With what income? You won’t have enough to beat any of them out. Not for a beauty like her. Stop dreaming and help me finish the exam. We’re getting close to Icora, and she still needs to be prepped for auction.”

Auction. Just like the cow I am. Instead of anger or fear, it sends a ripple of need through me. I can only hope whoever buys me is nice and kind. Hell, what am I saying? If my body’s reaction to their treatment is any indication, I want it rough, hard, and fulfilling.

Again, Kanaes goes between my thighs, but this time, he pulls out a tool that looks similar to a speculum. Only… when he puts it in, it stretches me far more than any tool at the OB/GYN. I want to scream, to jerk away from the discomfort, but Tirayasu is there, once again, distracting me as he plays with my nipples.

“She stretches nicely,” Kanaes murmurs, his hot breath washing over my clit until I’m squirming with need again. “It won’t take her long to accommodate to her new owner.”

That’s a relief, I guess. Turning my head to the side, I watch with dawning horror as Tirayasu lowers the zipper all the way, revealing a massive cock jutting from his hips. There’s big, and then there’s impossible. If he’s an average male of his species, then I’mfooked.

Chapter Four

Antroli

Groaning, I blink up at the rising suns and stretch, unwilling to start my day. Logically, I knew working on a ranch meant early days and late nights, but knowing it and living it are two completely different things. Even after years of doing this, of rising through the ranks until I’m second only to Vrokjan, the owner, waking up is difficult.

I’d much rather lie in bed and work late into the night. But our ranch doesn’t work that way. By the time I’m wired and ready to go, the cows are settling down for the evening. Granted, I could be cruel and avail myself to them whenever I wished, but my heart and soul don’t want that.

With a weary sigh, I plop my head in my hands and stare at my feet. It’s easier in some ways for Vrokjan. Though his cows leave him at the end of each Earth year, as is their right, he still has someone with him. Someone to nourish his body and soul.

Every auction, I think I’ll find my cow, the one I wish to share my bed and life with. But each auction comes and goes,and I find myself growing more and more despondent. Perhaps I should just take an Icorian bride and settle down.

Even as I think about it, my stomach recoils. It’s not that the women of my planet aren’t lovely in their own way, they’re just not who I want. Some call us Ranchers insane for our obsession with Earthlings, but for me, it’s more than that.

Women on Icora do not produce milk. Even when they have children of their own, it’s the cows who provide those children with nourishment. No doubt there’s a high amount of jealousy among the Icorian women, but they cannot deny the benefits our cows give.

It’s that milk, and thus the women who provide it, that drives my obsession. Nothing has ever tasted sweeter to me. Nothing else has ever proven to be as desirable as a cow on all fours, her teats hooked up to the machine, mooing softly as I take her with wild abandon.

I should be able to find solace within our herd, but for some reason, once I empty my seed into their bellies, all those pleasant feelings evaporate. Perhaps it’s because I know deep down they’re not mine. They belong to the ranch. They belong to Vrokjan.

I could start my own ranch and gather a herd that’s solely mine. However, that requires money, far more than I’ll be able to accumulate. Besides, there is no better coworker than Vrokjan. His ideals match mine regarding the keeping and comfort of cows.

Not wishing to waste the day in idle, morose thoughts, I slide into my work suit and begin my day. The other ranch hands gather at the table, their eyes bleary as they sit down. With Vrokjan’s cow back on Earth, we have no one to give us our morning milk.

A twinge of regret slams into me as I stare across the table at his empty spot. With him away on the ship gathering humansfor this impromptu auction, all the duties of head Rancher fall to me. And that includes gathering milk for the men.

As they take their places, I rise once more and head out to the barns. Already, the cows shuffle about, waking for the day. Soon, they’ll be milked, fed, and tended to, but for now, the Ranchers need to be satisfied. Looking over the herd, sorrow lances my chest.

Why can’t I find one? Am I just that picky? Every time Vrokjan takes a cow for his own, he says his soul sings. It’s as if it aligns with the celestials themselves, giving him divine purpose. I’ve never felt that.

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