Page 6 of Milked for the Holidays

Sliding my gaze down further, I take in the soft nature of her skin and stomach. She’s not fit and toned like some of the other cows. In fact, I’m sure every inch of her is a handful, perfect for grabbing while I drive into her.

I shake my head, dispelling the lustful thoughts racing through it. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. There’s a problem. Pushing past Nagán, I brush the side of her head again, a frown twisting my lips down. The translator should have taken hold by now.

What’s preventing it? Knowing Nagán, he’s troubleshot whatever he could. Hence why I’m here. He knows I want her, and no doubt doesn’t want to be the one to break her. That seems to be my privilege.

Hunching down, I ignore her pitiful questions, opting to not speak again until I know she can understand me. But I hear her. I hear the panic in her heart, the sorrow in her tone. This cow isn’t a stranger to anguish. I can feel it with every pained breath she releases.

Though I cannot hear her thoughts, I know they must be buzzing about inside that head of hers. It’s not her fault, though. Typically, the cows wake up able to understand us. Yes, they go through a period of hysterics, but once the serums take hold, they’re far more pliable.

Her fingers twitch as if she’s trying to claw her way out. This won’t do at all. Growling over to Nagán, I point to the syringe that will help her sleep again while we figure out what the hell is going on.

As he goes over to her, the cow goes wild, her eyes shifting back and forth as she looks at the needle. If only there was something I could do. Other Ranchers might not give a fuck if their cows are happy or not, but I do.

It’s the standard I live by. Lifting my hand, I motion for Nagán to stay put as I tip my cow’s face over to mine. Her green eyes sparkle with unshed tears, tugging at my heart. Desperation and terror war within her, making her nearly vibrate.

Reaching over, I hold out my hand for the syringe. The other I slip underneath one of the straps and rest it against her breastbone. Though she can’t understand me, I do my best to take in deep breaths and let them out, showing her what I want her to do for me.

After a moment or two, she seems to understand. Eventually, her breathing slows, matching mine in both speed and cadence. With exaggerated motions, I show her the needle, pressing my palm harder against her skin as she grows agitated once more.

Off to the side, I can sense Nagán’s frustration. He’s certainly of the opinion that cows are beneath us, and as such shouldn’t be coddled like this. But it’s only because he’s never had one of his own. He doesn’t know the feeling of actually caring for one of these Earthlings as a part of the family.

Truthfully, it would be far easier to keep them in the field, using machines to harvest their milk. But to me, there’s nothing more intimate than taking it by the mouth, drinking straight from the source. I long to cup my cock, to squeeze it as I find relief, but this pretty little heifer needs my entire concentration.

After rolling his eyes in disgust, Nagán leaves the room, giving this cow and me some privacy. As if she can feel his hostility, the moment he leaves, she sags against the gurney. Taking the opportunity, I plunge the needle into her arm, crooning nonsensical sounds as she tries to thrash about.

This cow certainly needs to be handled with care, and I’m more than willing to take on that task. Leaning forward, I breathe in her scent, committing it to memory. Despite the acrid stench of fear wafting from her, there’s an undercurrent of sweetness, something that’s been absent with my other cows.

Her eyes are wild as I loom above her, and I can’t help the feral smile crossing my lips. She will find herself in this position far more often than not. My cock twitches as I imagine the moment she begs me to drink from her.

Though sweet, I can sense a strong backbone in her, one which will need to be broken. Those cows are always the best. Hopefully, she won’t ask to leave like the others. My heart pounds in my chest as her eyes drift closed and her body settles.

Every cycle I get my hopes up, thinking I’ll find my forever pet. But each time, they want to go back to Earth. Granted, I could be like the other Ranchers and just force them to stay, but for some reason, I want my cow to actually want me.

I’ll force a lot of things onto their unwilling bodies, but love and affection I want to receive freely. It’s something some Ranchers, like Nagán, don’t understand. They can’t fathom giving their cows something of a free will. Shaking my head, I put the syringe on a prep table and examine my new property.

Drifting my hand lower, I slide my fingers through the thatch of curls guarding her entrance. This will be the first of many changes she’ll have to endure. Unable to help myself, I slip a finger along her lower lips, groaning as I feel her wetness.

Even under duress, her body wants mine. Bringing my fingers up to my lips, I lap at them, tasting her sweetness. If she’s that tasty, I can only imagine what her milk will taste like.

“I assume she’s docile now?” Nagán’s voice interrupts my fantasy, bringing me back to the present.

“She’s ready.”

He nods, pushing past me as he hunches down to stare at the side of her head. A mass of black curls conceals the incision, but we both know exactly where the translator is implanted. Lifting her hair, we both study the faint mark.

Nothing appears to be wrong. Frowning, I reach into my suit and pull out a small, thin scanner. As I drift the tube over the implant, I watch as it lights up, showing that it’s active. Then what could be interfering?

My gaze drifts about the place, looking over her personal belongings laying in the cubical nearby. Something bright and shiny twinkles up from her clothing, drawing my attention.

“What’s all this?”

Nagán doesn’t look. “Hmm? What’s all what?”

I reach over and pluck at the metallic bits, my brow furrowing as what appears to be a ruffly snake slithers out. It’s not alive, thank goodness, but it’s something I’ve never seen before.

“This? What the hell is this thing?”

This time, he finally looks over. “Oh. It was on her when she was collected. Since it wasn’t a living being, they let it stay. We’re not sure of its purpose. It could be decorative. Could be a medical device. We’re just not sure. We were hoping she could tell us, but until the translator starts working, it’s a moot point.”