Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Antroli

I study my new little cow, desperate to know what she's thinking. So many expressions flit across her face, but they're gone before I can figure it out. One thing that's very clear, however, is the scent of arousal wafting off of her.

Her body screams in need even if her lips remain silent. Circling around her, I note the rigidity in her stance. Despite being aroused by me, she's also wary. Common enough. Most cows are skittish and frightened at first.

In fact, I've come to understand that the ones who aren't afraid of us and try to fight their captives are the ones who merely accept their fate, do not stay long in our world. Whether by their own hand or natural causes, they drift up to the celestials in the sky.

My skin crawls as memories burst through my mind. Though I try my hardest to forget, my brain is always there to remind me. Closing my eyes, I do my absolute best to shove out the images of the small burial plot we have for the cows who no longer wish to live.

It was only my first year as a Rancher, and I knew nothing about the temperament of humans. It took one death. Just one. After that, I knew what signs to look for. Even now, I worry about the few who caught my eye.

If only the transport did a better job at weeding out the humans based on emotional stability and not just viability of our serums. What good is it to have these cows if they're absolutely miserable?

Shaking my head, I dispel these morose thoughts. The cow in front of me is not like them. She could never be like them. Fear sizzles through my veins as I look deep into her brown eyes.

"I want you to be truthful with me." Fear makes my mouth dry and my voice hoarse. But it cannot be helped. "Are you well adjusted?"

She hesitates for a bit and simply stares at me. For half a second, I worry that her translator is no longer working. A bark of laughter erupts from her lips, but there's not a trace of humor in it.

"Well adjusted? You kidnapped me, put some unknown serum in me to make me leak from every orifice and you have the nerve to ask me if I'm well adjusted?"

Crossing my arms, I bite down on my inner cheek to keep from smiling. She's certainly a spitfire, far more than any cow I've tended to before. It's her spark that allows me to take in a deep breath.

"To be fair, it's the Medical Ranchers who did all that. I'm just reaping the benefits."

" Are ye aff yer heid ?" she snarls, her accent becoming thick. " I've no went tonto if that's what yer askin'. I'm no a wee headcase. But I'm soon to become one if ye don't stop yappin' and get to the boabing' that ye promised. "

I should be angry with her show of force. In fact, not one cow has ever spoken to me with such disrespect. It's something we drill into our heifers from the moment they're brought on board our ships.

Unfortunately, all it does is make my cock hard. I have no idea how the arousal at her show of submission has shifted to this, but I crave the acidity in her words. It makes me want to force her to submit instead of enjoying the woman I thought she was. Somehow, it's better this way, far more erotic.

Besides, she's already admitted she likes a bite of pain with her pleasure. How much of this venom is because of this desire and how much is actual disrespect? Either way, in my mind, she's just given me carte blanche to have my way with her and not hold back.

Grabbing the lead in my hand, I wind it around, bringing her ever closer with each rotation of my wrist. Her eyes widen as I force her to step forward, filling the gap until she's so close I can almost taste her breath in the air.

"Let's get one thing straight, my little masocow. I am the one in charge. I will always be the one in charge. If you beg me like a good, sweet, demure little cow, I might make you see stars. Continue with that attitude, and you'll taste my hand in a far, less pleasurable way."

She sways for a moment, her eyes dilating a touch further. "Please," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I- I need."

"Yes, my little one. I know exactly what you need." Gathering her hand in mine, I place it over my heart. "When we are alone, you may call me by my given name. To you, I will always be Master Antroli. If allowed to speak in front of others, it will be Master Rancher. What is your name?"

"Do you really want to know it?" There's a tinge of emotion there, vulnerability maybe?

"I do. I want to know what name I'm crying out as I stroke myself."

Red tinges her cheeks as she ducks away for a moment. "Fiona."

"Fiona." I sound out each syllable as if I'm already tasting her decadent milk. "Such a pretty name for such a pretty cow."

"I really wish you'd stop calling me that. I'm not big enough to be a cow."

Chuckling, I loosen my grip a touch on her lead. "It's not your size that makes you a cow. It's your function. Soon, you'll be providing milk to nourish me, to allow me to do my job, and do it well. You are integral to my way of life. My own, personal cow."

I refuse to tone down the reverence in my voice. To me, it's important that she knows just what she is in my life. What she means to me. Though my little pet might not think of me in such an adoring way now, it is my goal that she'll become just as besotted with me as I am with her.

"Come. I must attend to you before you engorge to the point of damage."

All it takes is a gentle tug for her to trot after me like an obedient little bovine. My balls clench at the idea of putting her into her cow items after we're done. She'll be the most adorable one on our farm. I just know it.

Leading her over to the milking bench, I help her sit astride. For a moment, as I lift her breasts, she jerks ever so slightly, as if she wants to flee, but then stills. It's quite fascinating watching her mind and body work.

Fiona groans as the metal cups her breasts, taking the extra weight off of her. She sags forward in relief and doesn't fight me as I push, pull, and tug her into position. Humans are so easy to please. Or is it Fiona who's easy?

Milk dots the tips of her nipples, drawing a hungered groan from my lips. How badly I wish to take what's so freely offered. Not yet. It pains us both to have me sit across from her and not touch her.

"Before I attend to you, you must know the rules. I do not wish to gag you or punish you, but I will. You are mine to keep, mine to own, and mine to control. As stated earlier, outside of the ranch house, you are not allowed to speak. No cow is allowed to let an Icorian hear their words. Now that your mouth is free, I will listen to you. Do you understand?"

Her eyes widen as she nods, slamming her hands over her mouth as if to keep her from speaking out. A soft chuckle buzzes in my chest as I pull them down. "While you're around me, you may speak. But the moment another is in our presence, you will remain silent."

After a moment or two, she raises her hand in the air, palm facing me. Silence stretches between us as I watch it, curiosity burning in my mind. Is this how humans show their obedience? Time continues to tick forward, and yet she still does not speak.

Her hand begins to quiver with the effort of keeping it aloft. "I do not understand," I finally growl. "If you agree with me, then just say that."

"I- No. I have a question. I didn't want to speak out of turn. Do you not do this? Not even in school? Wait. Do you even have school?"

Irritation wriggles down my spine a moment at her line of inquiry, but I soon quell it since her voice doesn't give off the tone of impertinence. "We do indeed have education here. Both Master Vrokjan and I have also completed the additional courses to become certified Ranchers. He actually has even more education than I do. It's how we're able to sell our milk intergalactically. "

"Forgive me. I did not mean to assume."

I ignore her apology. She didn't do anything wrong, and so there is no need to further address it. "What's your question?" I counter.

"If I'm not allowed to speak, how do I get your attention?"

A soft smile curves my lips. "Why, you moo, of course. In all your years of education, you cannot tell me you didn't learn the simple lesson of a cow goes moo. In fact, I'm quite sure there's a little song about it."

Again, red tinges her lovely cheeks, and I find myself smitten. I love the color as it travels down her neck to flush her full breasts.

"Now who's a wee headcase?" she mutters, her eyes refusing to meet mine.

Shaking my head, I grip her cheeks. "I've been so lenient with you thus far, and yet you continue to defy me. Moo, cow, or I'll let the machine attend to you first and not my mouth."

Fiona shudders under my unrelenting gasp. "Please, Master Antroli. I- I can't."

"Can't," I growl, my cock pulsing with each flutter of her heartbeat in her throat. "Or won't."

"It's too humiliating. I- I can't."

Scooting closer, I slide my hand over her pussy. "Celestials," I groan, easing a thick digit inside her. "You're fucking soaked. Tell me again that you don't want to moo for me."

Even without her answering, her inner walls clamp down around my finger. A soft moan flits through the air. Not quite a moo, but close enough I can almost imagine it. Celestials, but to hear that sound fall from her lips for the first time.

"Come, my little masocow. You know deep down you want to please me. Let me hear it. Just once and I'll bring you so much pleasure you won't know what to do with it."

She pulls her lips in and clamps down, refusing to obey me. "The hard way it is, then. Will it be like this in every interaction?" Part of me hopes so.

The only Ranchers I knew of who are rough with their cows for the sake of sexual pleasure are the two who tried to take Fiona away from me. Though I don't want to be cast in with the likes of them, I have always wondered what the cows got out of such feral, primal urges.

Grabbing the suction cups, I hold them in one hand as I smooth some salve over her engorged nipples. Her sighs go straight to my dick, making me so fucking hard my vision threatens to cross. Once I have her hooked up to the machine, I watch her face as I switch it on.

Pleasure and pain seem to oscillate with neither fully winning. Strangled sounds of pleasure drip from her lips just as steadily as the milk going into the tubes. Standing in front of her, I unzip my suit, groaning as the air kisses my skin.

Despite the suction pulling milk out of her in a slow but steady pace, her sounds die down as she watches me strip for her. "Do you want me? Do you want to see the cock that will force cum into every hole you own?" She nods, her breath coming out in haggard gasps. "Then fucking moo. I will not ask you again."

Once more, she bites down on her bottom lip and looks away. Redness tinges her entire face, turning her creamy pale skin a lovely shade of strawberry.

"Moo," she finally says, so soft I almost can't hear it.

Oh, but I do. It goes straight through me like lightning. Every hair stands on end as arousal thrums through my body in an endless refrain. There's a soft lilt to the sound, very similar to her accent when she speaks.

It draws out the sound, softening it in a way I never thought possible. The sound has always been erotic to me, but hearing it fall from her lips like soft rain crashing against the beautiful Ovibrosia is downright spiritual.

"That's my good little cow," I groan, sliding the zipper all the way down.

My cock pops out from the tight fabric, granting me instant relief. Cupping my balls, I run my hand up and down my shaft, lurid sounds dripping from my lips as I watch Fiona's expression. Her eyes widen as she looks me up and down.

"Y- you're fooking massive," she gasps, her fingers gripping the milking bench.

"That I am. Far too massive for a little thing such as yourself. That's why I'm going to prepare you to take me. In the meantime, I want you to get just a small taste of me, that bite of painful pleasure you seem to crave."

Her skin goes white as I turn off the machine and remove the suction cups. They weren't on there long enough to drain her, allowing me to finally taste what my money won. Sliding behind her on the bench, I rock against her, grinding my cock against her back.

At first, her body is rigid against me. This won't do at all. Wrapping my arms around her, I slide my hands under her breasts and knead the swollen tissue. Soon, she sways backward as if all the fight drains from her body.

With gentle movements, I urge her to face me. Her pupils dilate until nearly fully blown. An odd twinge of tenderness beats at my heart as I lean down, capturing her lips with mine. Fiona is so soft and pliant as I mold her to me, drinking from her lips like a man starving.

Enough games. Soon, I'll need to bring her back to the transport so we can go to the farm. Once there, I can have my wicked way with her. Leaning back against the bench, I help her on top of me. Her slim thighs part, falling on either side of my hips.

She's so small, so tiny, so fragile, but most importantly, so mine.