Chapter 4

Antroli

G roaning, 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 humans for 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.

There’s been no spark, no life. Nothing. The cows who still remain are ones with nothing left back on Earth for them. They’re not here because they want to be here. They’re here because there’s no alternative.

I want a cow to want me, to choose me, and to stay here despite everything back on Earth. But that seems to be a dream easily blown away like bits of Ovibrosia fluff in the wind.

Grabbing a lead from off of the wall, I walk over to the cow who looks most alert. Becky, I believe she’s called. I snap it onto her collar and drag her up onto all fours. The others moo around her, soft sounds of distress that should tug at my heart. But they don’t.

They chose to be here. They know what being a cow entails. At this point, it seems to be all show and no substance. Gritting my teeth, I tug her along. Though she doesn’t resist, she doesn’t eagerly follow either. There’s a hesitation in her steps, a faltering I can feel quiver through the leash tethering us.

She probably is a bit concerned with my actions, seeing as I don’t normally take a cow out of the barn at this time of the morning. And when I do see to my needs, it’s in the milking stalls. Not one of these cows has ever graced my room with their presence.

Not wishing for her to get anxious and affect the taste of her milk, I stop and hunch down until my face is closer to hers. “You are to feed the men this morning. You will be our centerpiece at breakfast.”

She sags in what I can only presume is relief, making my chest burn with indignation. Am I so odious that knowing she isn’t going to be taken as my personal cow makes her relieved? In truth, there are far worse Icorians out there, ones who cause pain for nothing more than pain’s sake.

I at least try to temper it, blend it with pleasure. For a cow, discomfort is inevitable, but I at least try to make it worthwhile. Shaking my head, I stand again and lead her inside. The men stand at the table, their lips splitting into a smile as they watch this morning’s offering shuffling in behind me.

They gather their bowls and cups as I help her onto the massive wooden altar and lie her down. Normally, Vrokjan will pleasure his cow while she provides us sustenance, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Not with the mood I’m in.

Instead, I motion for Hanrion to sit at the head of the table, taking Vrokjan’s spot for the duration of our meal. Once she’s settled in place, I bow my head and wait for the others to follow suit.

“Celestials,” I murmur, reciting the prayer Vrokjan does every morning. “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.”

The others give their own soft words of assent, but otherwise remain quiet. Most mornings, we tease each other and laugh, tossing ribald jokes about, but not today. Something feels different about today, and I can’t put my finger on it.

There’s something in the air, something that calls to me, but I don’t dare give in to it. Today’s human harvest and subsequent auction are new and unprecedented, a holiday gift of sorts to the other cows. Christmas, I believe they call it. To hear the other ranchers relay their cow’s thoughts, they say it’s a time of gifts and miracles. Perhaps there’s a cow on that ship destined for me. That certainly would be a miracle.

Driving the wishful thought out of my head, I latch the tubes onto Becky’s nipples and start the machine. Her soft moos as milk drains from her engorged breasts go straight to my balls, making them clench with need. At some point, I’ll need to avail myself. I’ve gone far too long between visits to the milking shed.

I glance over at the others as they pour her milk onto their cereals and into their coffee, a wondrous bean we gather from Earth whenever we visit. At the head, Hanrion tastes Becky’s pussy, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten.

Perhaps soon, that will be me, eschewing all desire for food as I fill myself up on my own personal cow. A shiver of longing races down my side as I content myself with my meal and the smatterings of conversation going around me. Soon, I’ll meet Vrokjan at the auction house, but there’s still far more to do before that time comes.

The auction house is packed, far more than what Vrokjan anticipated. I glance over at his stiff form, watching as his gaze darts over the other Ranchers in attendance. Based on private communication between him and I, it was made clear there’s a heifer in this lot who’s bound to be his.

I drive that niggle of jealousy away and stare up at the stage. How many times have we been here, bidding on cows to join our farm, and yet, not once have any enticed me the way this new cow has entranced him? He’s besotted. That much is clear.

For the first time since I’ve worked with him, he has a grit of determination about him. He will not lose this woman. Even if it bankrupts us, he will have her. Off to the side and to the back, I watch as Jakroon and Ratainio take their places, their haughty sneers turning their faces evil.

Or maybe that’s just the red light from their buzzer shining up, lighting them from underneath. They’ll be the ones to watch. As Ranchers who live alongside us, they’ve been nothing but trouble. Granted, they’ve never done anything to force us to get the government involved, but they’re a thorn in the side, nonetheless.

Jealousy, pure and simple. Though Vrokjan hasn’t been a Rancher as long as they have, he’s flourished where they’ve maintained the status quo. Pride blossoms in my chest as I watch them scowl our way. It’s Vrokjan’s kind manner and smart business sense that make him a good Rancher.

It’s something they’ll never understand. To them, cows are just a means to an end. They go through them yearly, rarely keeping any on after the term. The few who do stay are broken shells of women. Granted, that’s just what I see. It’s not as if I know the inner workings of their ranch.

A hum rises from the Ranchers, forcing my gaze back to the stage. Again, that tingle of awareness, that niggle of pure, unadulterated excitement, races through me. I sit up in the chair, ignoring Vrokjan’s soft chuckle. He already knows the cow he wants. I’m seeing them all for the first time.

When the auctioneer takes the stage, I find myself growing irritated at his tirade. It’s the same as all other auctions. All sales are final. All cows must be paid for before taking them from the premises. None of this is new.

Eventually, he leaves, and the auction house descends into darkness. Smatterings of red fill the space, bringing another wave of anticipation racing through me. My cock lurches up as the muffled sounds of the cows being brought to the backstage slither into the audience.

After several moments, the stage lights up. This way, the cows will be illuminated and not be able to see us. They’ll have no clue who’s purchasing them until we collect them at the end of the auction. It’s supposed to help keep them calm, but I’ve always wondered about that.

When we get them, they’re always hysterical. I’m not sure something as insignificant as lighting makes much of a difference. However, this time, I’m grateful for the darkness.

It will hide me, allowing me to gaze upon the cows as they’re brought out without them knowing who it is buying them. For the first time since attending these auctions, I want to be one with the shadow, to study the women and find my own. The cloak of darkness will make our first meeting all the more eventful.

Enough is enough. If Vrokjan will allow me, I’ll finally have a heifer to call mine. Insidious thoughts worm their way into my mind, trying to convince me I’ll die alone, but I shove them away. If these humans think today is a day of miracles, then who am I to deny myself the gift of love?

I settle back into my chair, keeping my body loose, limber, and ready to bid. Love or not, I have a job to do. I help fatten the herd with good cows, and I aim to do my job. However, the moment the handler walks out, her easy glide denoting a cow giving no resistance, my heart stops.

There, behind her, is the most beautiful cow I have ever seen. My cock pulses as her tentative steps follow the handler. She’s compliant, obedient, shy even. To this point, I didn’t think I had a type, but I now know I do. It’s her.

I want her. I crave her. I have to have her. Glancing over at Vrokjan, I take in his amused smile. He can be smug all he wants. He has chosen his cow. It’s time I get mine.

Normally, when bidding, I’m calm, calculated. This time, however, I don’t wait. Amidst the musical tones denoting bids, the deeper sound of my buzzer rings out. Vrokjan raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

As his grin turns indulgent, I know he’s willing to let me do what it takes to win her. Every now and then, I glance behind me, fury racing through my veins as Jakroon and Ratainio put their heads together, whispering as they outbid me.

The look of lust on their faces is enough for me to see red. Someone that gentle has no business belonging to violent assholes like them. I can’t allow it. I won’t allow it.

Again, I slam my hand on the buzzer, grateful to hear the other plinks peter out. Now it’s just the sadistic brothers and myself. The amount on the screen changes so rapidly, I can’t keep up. All I know is I must win her.

To further stoke the fires and continue raising bids, the handler turns her around and puts her on all fours. Again, the heifer obeys without resistance. What would it be like to put her on all fours in front of me and bury myself within that tight pussy of hers?

It drips with arousal, making her pale pink flesh glisten in the light. I want to taste her, to devour her. Just like the rest of her, she’s delicate, small, and fragile. The need to break her, to split her open with my cock, beats at my brain until all rational thought is gone. With a groan, I hit the button again and wait for my nemesis to do the same.

Everything is silent. The auctioneer looks about the room, waiting for anyone else to bid. When my buzzer turns green, I nearly collapse in relief. She’s mine. All mine.

With a sheepish grin, I look up at the numbers and then back at Vrokjan. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything, despite the fact that she costs nearly triple what we normally pay. I take his silence as consent and breathe as the handler takes her off the stage.

Now that I no longer have a distraction, I can concentrate on the rest of the auction. Since I’ll be keeping that pretty little Highland to myself, I’ll need to help procure at least three other heifers to keep our production up.

Reaching down, I rub my palm across my cock as relief floods my system. Day of miracles indeed. Now, all that’s left to do is have Vrokjan win his prize, and it will be a day of celebration for sure.