Текст книги "Milked for the Holidays"

Автор книги: Vivian Murdoch

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

CHAPTER 7

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JESSICA

I don’t want to. The last thing I want to do is give this monster the satisfaction of seeing the pleasure he’s causing me. However, my mind and body seem to be at odds. It’s as if I want to exist solely for the pleasure he’s providing.

It’s just because I haven’t gotten off in so long. That has to be it. Why else would I want to fall apart at the hands of a stranger?

However, when he pinches my nipple, I can’t help the long, low moan that rumbles from my chest. Whatever they did to me made my nipples far more sensitive than ever. In fact, I almost don't feel it when Master Nagán pushes that cold bit of metal into me.

Just like at the gyno, I tell myself, doing my best to disassociate. But this is anything like what happens when I go to the doctor. For one, they’ve never elicited a sexual response. Second, I’ve never had to demand they stop a procedure.

Granted, even if I did demand, beg, or plead, these monsters wouldn’t stop. But the worst part is I don’t want them to. A fire coils through my veins, making me desperate for the rough caresses of Vrokjan.

A sly smile threatens to cross my lips as I think of him by his forbidden name. He may demand I call him Master Rancher, but in my mind, I can refuse. I can stand my ground in this little way. He won’t break me to that point.

And so I rebel, telling myself that his touch is abhorrent to me. However, the longer this goes on, the more my brain falters. With each swipe and pinch of Vrokjan’s fingers, I lose myself in the sensations swirling through my body.

It would be so easy to just slip beneath the haze, to allow him to do whatever he wants. And honestly, I don’t really have a choice, do I? These men tower over me. Even though I haven’t seen their bare arms, it’s obvious through the skin-tight uniforms that they are muscular and strong.

I’m not a weakling, but there’s no way I can defend myself against one, let alone two, of these behemoths. Somehow, just thinking about it in those terms causes my pussy to spasm as the moan I’ve been holding hostage erupts from my lips.

“That’s it, my little cow,” Vrokjan croons, bending low to run his lips along my neck. “You sound so beautiful in the throes of passion.”

The heat from his lips sears me like a brand. Tipping my head to the side, I give him better access, allowing myself to enjoy it. And why shouldn’t I? Just because a part of me is screaming no doesn’t mean the part of me that wants this has to suffer.

His strong fingers grip my breasts, scattering any lingering thoughts. There’s a flash of both pain and unadulterated need. I open my mouth to cry out, but his lips cover mine, muffling the sound. The taste of him is unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

Though I’ve kissed my fair share of men, none of them tasted like raw masculinity. There’s a slight acidity, bitterness maybe? Like strong coffee and wildness. Unable to help myself, I open further under the onslaught, allowing his tongue to sweep across mine.

I moan into his mouth as he owns me, dominating me. The only thing keeping me from attacking him are the straps holding me down. I want to wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him into me. I so desperately want him to erase this lonely ache in my heart and between my thighs.

With one hand, he runs his fingers through my hair, and with the other, he drags the edge of his nail around my nipple. Just as he pinches it again, a far different sensation slams into me. Between my thighs, the medical guy shoves something deep inside.

This isn’t like the speculums at the doctor's. Far from it. The pain is intense, searing through me, stretching me to the point where I’m afraid he’s going to split me open. But underneath is an unyielding wave of pleasure that threatens to drown me.

It’s like an itch that I can’t scratch on my own—so deep and intense. I squirm as I do my best to process everything, but between Vrokjan’s tongue down my throat and whatever is pulsing between my thighs, I can’t even think. All I want is relief.

Pulling back, Vrokjan looks down at me, something akin to affection shining in his eyes. “Shhhh. It’s okay. Just let Nagán finish up and we’ll get you ready for the auction. I know what you need, little cow, and you will get it once I own you.”

As he disengages from me, I feel his loss keenly. It’s not just the heat radiating from his body dispelling the chill creeping back in. The weight of his body against mine felt so soothing, so… right. I hate it, but that’s the only word that seems to fit. Even then, it seems small somehow, inconsequential.

While he was on me, distracting me, I felt safe. Ridiculous, but accurate. Now that he’s away from me, I feel every inch of whatever device is inside me. I want the pain to stop. But more than that, I want the pleasure to peak, overwhelming me, consuming me.

Without any preamble, Nagán pulls it out and shows it to Vrokjan. I have no Earthly clue what I’m looking at, but it makes the nicer guy smile. Turning to me, he runs his thumb over my bottom lip, sending a shiver up my spine.

“Well, my little cow. Looks like I get to break you in when I buy you.”

My stomach drops at his words. I know what they mean individually, but put together in that sentence, along with the glinting metal, I have no comprehension. Vrokjan pulls it out of Nagán’s hand and stares me down as his long, bluish-pink, nearly purple tongue snakes out to lick it.

Until this moment, I allowed my brain to think I was just being pranked or kidnapped by some weird men. But I have no clue how someone could turn their tongue a different color. I’m sure there’s some sort of special effects trick, but right now, my brain can’t pull it up.

“Alien,” I manage to whisper.

He frowns. “Icorian.”

“I– I– You’re not human.” The words stutter from my lips as terror sinks in, dispelling all aroused feelings until I’m left with a hunk of dread lying heavy in my gut.

“What gave it away?” Nagán scoffs, putting his implements away.

Adjusting the table, he brings my thighs back together. Honestly, though to them it’s probably nothing, to me, it’s a small bit of comfort. It allows me to breathe just a touch better.

Vrokjan glances over at him, his brow furrowing. “Would it kill you not to be an ass?”

He shrugs before looking at me. “They’re cows. Only good for milk and fucking. What do you care?”

“I refuse to have this conversation with you.” Leaning down next to me, Vrokjan runs his hand over my hair.

Somehow, it helps a little, quelling the anxiety racing through me. It makes no sense. He’s an alien. The enemy. His touch shouldn’t make me want to curl up at his feet and let him do whatever he wants to me.

“Please don’t hurt me.” The words lodge in my throat, coming out in pathetic whimpers.

His expression never changes as he wipes the tears from my eyes. “My poor, sweet, little cow. We’re already far past that.” Standing, he nods over at Nagán. “Get her ready.”

He comes over to the head of the medical table and pushes, rolling me out of the room. “Wait!” I cry out, my adrenaline spiking.

I jerk against the restraints, whipping my head back to look at Vrokjan. He may be the enemy, but he’s at least the devil I know. But he just stands there, arms crossed as I’m wheeled away.

“Please!” I scream out, rocking my body back and forth.

For a moment, the medical table sways, and I fear I’ll be pitched down to the ground. But Nagán holds it steady, a growl flitting from his lips. “Calm the fuck down before you hurt yourself.”

“You don’t give a shit about me,” I fire back, anger and despair winding through until I don’t care what the consequences might be.

“No,” he calmly remarks. “I don’t. But I do give a shit about my brother. For some reason, he’s taken a liking to you. I have no clue why seeing as you just don’t shut up or stop whining. But if he likes you, then it’s my duty to make sure you get to the auction unharmed.”

He stops and starts talking with someone I’m unable to see. Despite how I crane my neck, they remain out of my peripheral vision. Before I can say another word, a set of blue fingers rests against my mouth for a moment before prying my lips apart.

Saliva pools as I twist and turn my head, desperate to be free of this new threat. Something firm and rubbery forces its way in, pinning my tongue down and filling my mouth. When the fingers let go, Nagán pulls the straps about my head and secures it.

I bite down, but find the odd object has very little give. It’s not painful, but it’s uncomfortable having my jaw remain open like this. The main concern, however, is the spit gathering on my tongue. The very last thing I want is to drool everywhere.

But these monsters even thought of that. As soon as it becomes too much, the odd device seems to absorb it. Guardrails pop up on either side as a few more pairs of hands grip it and force the medical table down the hallway.

There’s no escape now. Tears wet my cheeks as I rest my head against the gurney. If I’m being honest with myself, there was never really any chance to escape.

As much as it hurt being at home with my memories, I was, at least, safe. I’ve barely thought about my mother and the old house, but this isn’t how I wanted to get over the moroseness threatening to overwhelm me. I wanted something easy, gentle… Not this. Never this.

And yet, even as I mentally protest, my body clenches up. Arousal gathers at my lower lips. But it’s not from me. It can’t be. There’s no way I enjoy this degrading treatment.

Or do I?

My mind is a mess, completely in a jumble. Unable to think, I simply watch as we go down the hallway. I don’t even try to scream now. What’s the use? With this weird gag in place, no one will hear me. And even if they do, no one will come to my rescue.

Closing my eyes, I picture Vrokjan and the tender way he touched me. What I would give to feel it again. At least he pretends to care. So unlike his unfeeling brother, who doesn’t give a fuck about me.

To him, I’m just a human, an object… a cow.

My vision blurs as tears sting my eyes. If only this were a nightmare. I’d wake up, eventually. But it’s all too real. The pain and terror are far too much to simply be a nightmare. Any number of sensations should have woken me up.

Closing my eyes, I let myself drift, forcing my mind to calm. It won’t help to dissolve into hysterics. Instead, I take a mental inventory of my body.

The straps dig into my skin, abrading the flesh with every minute movement. I’m far more sensitive than I ever remember being. My chest aches and burns. Each breath feels more laborious somehow. My nipples sting as pressure begins to build. It’s as if I’m swelling, but how? Why?

Lower, however, my pussy throbs as air brushes over my mound. Though my legs are no longer spread out, I still feel vulnerable being so naked. I was so consumed with wanting to escape, that I didn’t contemplate the idea of other strangers—aliens—seeing me like this.

Shame burns through me as my throat clogs, choking me every time I swallow. Thankfully, no one else seems to be here. It’s oddly empty. Even the heavy tread of footsteps echoes off the glowing metal with nothing to muffle the sound.

He wheels me into a bare room, only comprising what looks like a bed, sink, and mirror. Once he has me all the way in, I listen as the others step out, leaving us alone. Terror skitters down my spine as he walks over to where I can see him.

“I’m going to unstrap you. Be a good cow for me, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

I believe him. There’s nothing about him that makes me think he’ll show me mercy. Lying as still as I can, I hold my breath as one by one the straps release. Moving to the front, he hits a button that lowers me to the floor.

“Go over to the cot. Your preparers will be here shortly.”

Pulling the table behind him, Nagán leaves the room. I go to wrap my arms around myself in a pitiful display of self-soothing, but find it difficult. My breath catches in my chest as I look down and see my breasts.

They’d always been a little on the larger side, but now they’re even bigger. Making my way over to a reflective surface on the far wall, I stare in shock as I look at my body. My face is the same, but everything else is far different.

What the fuck did they do to me?

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CHAPTER 8

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JESSICA

My fingers scrabble over the straps securing this thing inside my mouth. I search for a release, a switch of some sort that will make it open. My jaw aches as my tongue wars with the object, needing to push it out.

Hysteria rises as I watch myself helplessly struggle and fail to remove it. The dark blue is a stark contrast against my pale skin. It’s as if strips of bruises bisect my cheeks.

Though this thing isn’t hurting me, the visuals make it seem far more deadly than it actually is. Tears sting my eyes as I try a different tactic. Clawing at the front, I dig my fingers under the rim and twist it about, seeing if I can somehow pry it off.

But for every millimeter I manage to pull it forward, the object grows, filling my mouth even more. Frustrated screeches erupt, muffled, from my throat. Balling up my fists, I slam them against the smooth metal, needing to bleed off the violence coursing through me somehow.

However, the pain is short-lived. A zip of agony rips through my chest, dropping me to my knees. Heat floods my body, burning me from the inside out. Forcing my breath in and out of my nose in measured increments, I do my best to calm myself.

Eventually, the pain fades, leaving a dull ache in its wake. My legs tremble as I force myself to stand. Everything feels weak and overwrought, but I can’t let them find me like this. I won’t be able to protect myself down here on the floor.

With a ragged breath, I make myself stare at my reflection, rubbing at my chest in a pathetic attempt to stop the discomfort. Insidious thoughts coil through my brain as I breathe, unable to stop my eyes from following the movement of them as they heave. Are they getting bigger?

The weight is immense. It’s a heaviness I’ve never experienced before. With a groan, I slide my hands underneath and lift them up, my brain nearly short-circuiting as the relief washes through me.

From here, they definitely feel heavier. When I’ve checked myself in the shower every month, I don’t recall them spilling out quite this much. Biting down on the weird object in my mouth to keep from screaming, I study them, noting how full and round they are despite how large they seem.

They never stood out this perky before. It’s only one of many things that looks different about me. Swiping my thumb across my nipple, my knees nearly buckle as both pain and pleasure surge through.

That’s certainly different. At first, I thought maybe they were more sensitive because the hot stranger… alien… whatever… was touching them. But no. My touch alone is enough to make my pussy spasm as arousal slides down my inner thigh.

Shocked, I spread my legs open and watch as my skin glistens. Holy hell. I’ve been wet before, but not like this. I reach down to touch myself, a moan vibrating through my throat as my fingertips brush against my clit. God, it’s as if my entire body is on fire.

I so desperately need to find relief. Glancing over my shoulder, I look at the spot where Nagán disappeared. It seems as if I’m alone for now. Sitting back down on the cot, I spread my thighs as wide as I can and touch myself.

Desperation pours through my body, hot and thick, until it’s the only thing I can think about. It’s a relief to feel pleasure instead of pain, and so I chase that high. I stroke myself, my hips rocking back and forth as I dip my fingers into my soaking pussy.

My insides clench as I bring my fingers back to my clit, my movement eased by the copious amount of arousal dripping from me. Everything aches with an intense desperation. Though my fingers feel good, it’s not enough.

I want to be stretched open, filled, invaded. Tipping my head back, I picture Vrokjan as he loomed over me. My tongue laps at the underside of the solid thing inside my mouth as I imagine his thick cock surging in and out.

It doesn't matter that I don't want to think about my captor. My body burns as his image fills my brain, consuming my every thought. I’m so close, so fucking close to getting the relief I need.

I’m so deep into my fantasies that I don’t even hear the door open back up. It’s not until a pair of powerful hands rip my fingers away from my clit that I realize I’m no longer alone. A muffled shriek shatters through my brain as I struggle against the women, but their strength is far too much for me.

At this point, I can’t tell if it’s the fear, the lack of food, or the fact that they’re a different species that makes me unable to fight them. Sure, they look human-esque enough, but their blue skin and dark eyes will always mark them as different. Though they’re not nearly as dark as the two Ranchers, they’re all still variants of the same hue.

Fucking blue.

A frustrated screech builds in my throat as they forcibly lay me down on the cot. Try as I might, I can’t break their grip. It’s maddening, infuriating… hopeless. My heart thumps painfully in my chest as my gaze flits to each of the women, noting their blank expressions.

They don’t care. I’m just a job to them, a nuisance, a human who doesn’t even have the right to her own voice. A sob catches in my throat as tears stream from my eyes.

Again, I pull against them, bucking and twisting, but it’s all for nothing. The more I fight, the more tired I become. They pry my legs apart and strap them down on opposite sides of the cot, rendering my strong limbs useless.

For my arms, they wrestle them backward, strapping my wrists down to the opposite sides as well, mirroring my ankles. I’m spread eagle again as the women look me over. Though I can understand their words now, I can’t hear them as they murmur together and point.

Shame floods my face as they inspect me, their eyes touching on every dip and curve. Normally, I don’t care about my bigger size. In fact, I’ve come to embrace every inch of me. But right now, I can’t seem to muster my normal confidence. Hell, being gagged as I am, I can’t even tell them to fuck off.

Eventually, the others go out of the room, leaving just one. She looks down at me with kind eyes and a soft smile. “Forgive the intrusion,” she murmurs, her words understandable, but her accent unplaceable. “Pleasure is only found at the hands of the Ranchers. I would be remiss in my duties if I allowed you to go on any further.”

With a nod, she walks down to the foot of the cot and looks me up and down. “I am called Enook. I am to understand you are Jessica?”

Unable to speak, all I can do is nod my head. I strain against the straps, wishing to convey the need to get this gag removed. With another soft smile, she comes up to the head of the bed and places her fingertips on the object.

“From your actions, I feel as if you would like this removed, yes?”

I nod my head with all the enthusiasm I can muster. Finally!

“I am afraid that’s not possible. We are close to auction time, and all gags must be in place. However, if you promise to be a good cow, I’ll release you from your bonds. Are we in accord?”

Again, I nod, misery beating at my chest.

“Very well. However, I will warn you. If you make any move to touch yourself again or try to fight me and escape, I will have to use methods unpleasant to humans.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. As if everything up to this point has been pleasant for me. But honestly, I really can’t complain about how Vrokjan made me feel. And just like that, arousal swamps my senses until I’m almost panting.

Enook looks over at me, her eyes softening with what I can only assume is sympathy. “It’s part of the serum. In order to make you compatible as a cow, alterations must be done. To remove some of the burden, your body is now primed to accept our form of sexual stimulation. It will be overwhelming at first, but your Rancher will help guide you through it.”

There’s something soothing to her voice, a lilting quality that puts me at ease. As much as I want to escape, I don’t want her to turn into someone mean and nasty. I’ve already dealt with that at the hand of Nagán.

Besides, what she’s saying makes sense. The more my breasts ache, the more my pussy spasms with need. It’s as if I don’t care about the pain as long as I can have the promised pleasure.

She makes quick work of my restraints and steps away, her eyes never leaving me. When I don’t make a move to run, she gives a soft sigh and her body relaxes. With a quick nod of her head, she walks over to the door and opens it before dragging in a cart.

“You’ve been given to me far too late to make this a luxurious experience. Normally, our cows are primped and coddled before showing, but this will have to be fast and to the point. Stand.”

I rise from the cot, my body trembling as I stand there waiting for whatever comes next. I’m tired, hungry, sore, and so fucking horny I can barely think straight. Hoping to distract myself, I rub my arms and look over at the mirror.

My breasts are large, swollen by the looks of it. Fear races down my spine as I grip the tissue, crying out from behind the gag as the ache grows. Enook shakes her head, her smile sympathetic.

“You’ll need to be milked soon.” She places her cool hands on the fevered skin and squeezes a bit, dragging a pained wheeze from my throat. “I’ll make sure the auctioneer knows you’ll need to be taken to the milk stand the moment you’re paid for. Normally our cows don’t become this engorged, but you seem to be special.”

Great. Just what I need. I’m somehow built to be their fucking perfect cow.

Enook runs her fingers over the swollen tissue, squeezing here and pinching there. Her movements are clinical, almost as if I’m enduring my yearly exam. When she gets down to my nipples, however, I jerk back, not wanting her to touch me so intimately.

“If you wish to find relief, you will stand still and allow me to attend to you. I can’t drain you, but I can, at least, take off a bit of the pressure.”

She leans down, her lips hovering close. Her breath fans across my nipples, causing my core to clench in need. Again, I pull back, my mind confused at the conflicting emotions.

I’ve never been into girls, and yet, all I can think about is finding relief. At this point, I almost wouldn’t care if it was Nagán himself about to suck from me. But at the end of the day, I don’t want either of them. I want Vrokjan.

Rising, she tilts her head and looks at me. “Do you not wish to find relief?”

I nod, unsure of what else to do.

“Is it that I am a female? Do you not mate with women on your planet?”

Doing my best to communicate, I bring my thumb up to my chest and shake my head. Then, I spread my arms wide to indicate others and shrug. It’s ridiculous, really. All of this would be settled if I could just speak.

Again, she tilts her head, like a puppy trying to understand. “You don't, but others might?”

I nod vigorously, thankful my small bit of charades worked. With another soft smile, she shakes her head before lifting my breast.

“I do not mate with women either, but some on my planet do. This is not a sexual act. You are a cow, and I am to prepare you. Nothing more. Ranchers are the only ones who mix milk drinking and sex. Now, allow me to attend. You’re so engorged, I’m afraid it will cause you harm during the auction. Normally our cows are not this full until after.”

Helpless, I let my arms flop to my side. I don’t want to get injured because I’m feeling awkward with her ministrations. Besides, if this will help relieve any of this horrible ache, I’m willing.

Again, her hands are on my breasts, feeling and squeezing. If I keep my eyes closed, I can imagine my gyno doing her routine exam. All that goes out the window the moment I feel her breath against my skin.

Its heat envelops me, turning my blood molten. Everything is far too hot, far too uncomfortable. It’s as if I want to scratch at my skin until I bleed.

Scrunching my eyes, making sure they stay closed, I do my best to get out of my head. It’s an exam. That’s all it is. Nothing more. Nothing less. However, the moment her lips latch on, my pussy clenches in response.

She sucks on my nipple as she squeezes her hands. Seconds go by like hours as sharp sensations shoot through my breasts. Eventually, however, the pain morphs into blessed relief.

Groaning, I rock back and forth as a different kind of desperation coils through me. She doesn’t oblige, however. Even in sucking on me, she’s methodical, clinical. Once done with one breast, she moves to the other, and everything starts all over again.

“Your milk is as it should be. Sweet, thick, and delicious. Whoever wins you will be lucky indeed,” she says, pulling away from me to wipe her mouth.

I shouldn’t be happy at her pronouncement, but a small part of me preens at her words. At least everything is normal, I guess? As if she hadn’t touched me so intimately, she turns and fiddles with stuff on the cart.

“All that’s left is to clean you and take you over to the others awaiting auction.”

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