"
You love your life here on the farm
" the female voice spoke calmly and rhythmically.
"
You live for the touch of your handler. Your Mistress.
"
"
You will obey her, always. You will follow the orders of every stable Mistress.
"
"
The sound of my voice is making you hard. Your seed swells. Your body is ablaze with desire. You want desperately to touch yourself, but you will not. That cock is no longer yours. It belongs to the farm. Only your handler and Mistress can grant you relief.
"
"
Obedience will bring joy. Disobedience will be punished.
"
Byron opened his eyes. The night time
conditioning
messages continued playing in his ears, despite the sun shining through his room's single window. He sat up, the cow bell attached to his collar rattling as he righted himself. Byron pulled the ear buds away and set them in one of the small cubbies located at the head of his bed. He turned off the audio player and listened to the birds chirping just outside his window.
It was another day on the farm. Why was he still here? Why did he agree to... all
this
? He eyed the brainwashing device and wondered, ever so briefly, if he'd gone mad. This was a cycle he went through most mornings, until the feeling in his crotch provided a swift reminder.
Byron looked down at his bloated nutsack and engorged penis. They were twice the size they'd been before coming to this place. Maybe bigger. His body hummed with lust and Byron bit his lip.
'No no no.... Please!'
His left hand moved to his shaft, in spite of himself.
*CRACKLE*
A warning pulsed through his brain, bringing a sharp snap of pain as he took hold of his weighty unit. He jerked it up and down in desperate need, but the pleasurable sensations he expected never came. All it did was make the longing worse.
*CRACKLE CRACKLE*
"
Ahhhhhhh
!!!"
Byron released himself. His chest rose and fell with quick breaths. The young man's erect member pulsed with heat and lust; his scrotum heavy beneath it. His plump balls churned away, somehow making room for ever more semen despite their already ridiculous size and density.
It wasn't fair. Nothing about this was. And yet, in a half hour's time, he would be in heaven. The daily milkings made everything worth it. He would suffer any indignity. Do whatever they commanded. He just wanted to feel that exquisite pleasure again.
He looked around the sparse dorm room. Four walls, a bathroom, a few furnishings and a television. It was as simple as dwellings got. And yet, this was
fancy
compared to some of the accommodations he'd seen on the grounds. Some of the men, the ones who'd been here a long time, literally lived out in the stables. They were like animals. Perhaps they'd
become
animals. A new kind of animal-human hybrid. A
milk stud
.
Would he end up living as a barnyard creature? It seemed likely. Unless he missed his guess, the dorm rooms were for new recruits. A taste of normality while the newbie milk sluts were broken in. He hoped he could stay here a while yet. He wasn't ready to dwell in muck and hay. At least, not on a regular basis.
Byron scanned his naked body up and down as he waited for Mistress to arrive. He'd only been there for a few months, but so much had changed. He'd been a college freshman not long ago. He discovered
Mega Milkers
while looking for a summer job. It was an opportunity to earn some money before his sophomore year.
It sounded like the best deal in the world. Spend a summer on the farm. Get to hang out with pretty girls. Byron's tuition would be paid upon completing his service. No more college debt. The only stipulations? Submitting to the farm and the women who ran it. That included kinky exploits and taking whatever supplements they demanded.
He was put off by the pills and injections at first, but he couldn't argue with the results. His body, once thin and boyish, was filling out rapidly. Byron had meat on his bones for the first time in his life. His shoulders, arms, chest and torso had definition. His legs were the most significant improvement of all; calves and thighs sculpted from muscle.
Was it the drugs they gave him? The grueling chores? Or all the ridiculous
pony games
they made him play in elaborate bondage? It was the combination of the three, most likely. How else could he have undergone such a massive physical transformation in such a short time?
Byron rose from the bed and walked to the tall, full length wall mirror not far from the door. He inspected his beefy body in the reflection. That was the truly bizarre thing. They'd changed him in so many ways and yet... he approved. Other than the strange '
#17
' cattle tag permanently clipped in his ear, Byron liked what he saw.
He felt
desired