Prize Bull

Author's Note: Dara is a single mother of a college freshman working as a nurse and running a dairy farm that has been in the family for more than 100 years. After being burned by a cheating husband, Dara has vowed never to be involved with any man who isn't submissive to her, and in the first two parts of "Prize Bull," she has seduced Travis, almost 19 years old, handsome, and naturally submissive, slowly but surely tightening her control over him.

--Carlie Plum

In the end, it turned out that five orgasms in a day was Travis's limit. With each orgasm, it had taken a bit longer and his output of semen had dropped significantly. I began our fifth session in as many hours slowly, making sure to hold my hand in front of him as I spread the thick lubricant over my fingers. I had noticed the sight aroused him, his cock twitching in response, and I made sure to draw the production out, giving him time to think about what it would feel like to have my finger buried in the soft flesh of his ass, stroking his sensitive prostate.

"You do seem to be settling down, Travis. I don't have time to take care of you like this all the time, but I think we'll need to do it occasionally. You went almost 40 minutes without an erection since I stimulated you an hour ago." Travis blushed at the mention of his constant erections. At my instructions, he wore specially designed uniform pants with built-in liners—fleece for winter and silk for summer—that were lightweight. In addition to having no buttons or zippers, which meant I could access his anatomy just by slipping my hand into the elastic waistband, they made it impossible for Travis to hide an erection around me.

Of course, there was no hiding anything at the moment. I stimulated Travis in our small barn's currently vacant bull pen, and while I was dressed in a sweater and jeans, my hired hand was stripped completely naked, his clothes hanging over the edge of the pen. "Bend over and grab your ankles now," I ordered. I knew this position still caused Travis trouble, and I watched him struggle and blush until he made himself comply, knowing the embarrassment of putting himself in such a vulnerable position would prove well worth it. "Spread your legs wider," I said harshly. "Really, Travis, you act as if you've never done this before. How in the world am I supposed to put my finger up your little bottom with your legs together like that?" Travis spread his legs wider. His ass cheeks were muscled and tight, and I could see the little brown opening between them, just waiting for my finger. I slid inside, feeling the velvety softness of the skin as it grasped me tightly. I steadied myself against Travis, letting my crotch rest against his leg as I teased up and down his naked stomach before grasping his cock firmly and pumping it in time to the rhythm I had set up with my finger.

"Oh, Miss Dara, oh," Travis was panting, his eyes closed as his hand grasped the specimen cup he would catch his cum in. I slipped a second finger into his ass and was rewarded with a deep groan of pleasure. I curled my fingers so they dragged across the prostate with each thrust, pressing against the sensitive gland. Sweat beaded on Travis's forehead and chest as I continued rubbing him. At times he would seem as if he were about to come, rising up on his tiptoes or pushing back hard on my fingers, but the minutes passed and I wondered if I had pushed him too far. I decided to try something different, hoping it wouldn't change the balance of power I had established.

"Travis," I whispered, pressed close to him, "I want you to wrap your hand around your cock and rub yourself for me. Do you understand?" Without responding, Travis brought up his free hand and began masturbating, even as I continued to plunge in and out of his tight asshole with my two fingers, the feel of him tight and velvety around me. I continued in my low voice, "Rubbing you has gotten me all wet, Travis. Do you like thinking about that, that I'm wet between the legs from touching your penis?"

"Oh, yes, Miss Dara," Travis panted, stroking himself harder and faster.

"You can't tell, but my clit is all hard from rubbing up against your leg, and I'm going to hold on very tight and make myself come like that. Don't you come until I tell you to, you understand?" Travis nodded.

I readjusted myself so I could continue my assault on Travis's backside, but grind my crotch more forcefully against Travis's leg, wrapping my arm around his sweaty body, feeling the muscles ripple beneath my touch.

"Oh, Travis," I moaned, "I'm so wet. My clit is grinding up against your leg and it's a sweet, sticky mess in my panties. Maybe one day, if you are a very good boy, I'll let you have a taste."

Travis moaned, a deep wordless groan of desire. I kept on grinding, even as I teased us both into a frenzy. "Would you like that, my sweet boy? Would you like to be on your knees between my legs, licking me and tasting me? I'm so close now, so wet, there would be so much sweetness for you to lick. Maybe one day. . ." Words failed me as the fantasy joined the reality and I came, crashingly, my moans pushing Travis over the edge with me. He thrust hard and I pressed firmly against his prostate, but just a few drops spilled out.

I stood there for a minute, my head spinning. I had come a few times with Travis, but I had gritted my teeth and never let him know as I rode his leg to orgasm. Would this change things? I forced my voice into evenness. "Make sure you finish up the chores after you clean up, Travis," I said before I left him alone in the barn.

*****

Travis's annual checkup had not gone as expected, but it had certainly been a noteworthy event. Cheryl, Dr. David's other nurse, had called in sick and we were short-staffed. I got pulled in as his nurse, since I was the only one there. Although I was due to get a summary of the Travis's physical as part of his employment agreement and would see his lab work as part of my regular work duties, I wound up getting a lot more information than that.

"Dr. David," I asked, before going into the exam room where Travis was waiting, "I should let you know that Travis Rogers works for me at the farm. I don't know if there are any HIPPA issues we should be worried about with me being his nurse," referring to the patient privacy laws all medical facilities have to follow, "I was planning on Cheryl handling his exam. . ."

On Dr. David's instructions, our receptionist had Travis sign a letter saying he consented to have me as his nurse despite my status as his employer before I stepped into the exam room. I wondered if he felt as strange about the situation as I did, the blurring of our roles changing the patterns we had established, but I didn't ask, just went through my normal routine of taking his vitals and asking a standard set of questions. "Okay, Travis, you'll need to change into this paper gown before the doctor comes in."

"Yes, Miss Dara," he answered, beginning to strip, just as he would have at work.

After taking care of two other patients, Dr. David and I met up outside of exam room five. The doctor took a quick look at Travis's chart, before he tapped on the door. I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong, that even without knowing it or meaning to, Dr. David would be a tool for my domination of Travis and this was a situation I couldn't control. I tried to shake the thoughts. Travis had seemed unfazed.

As we walked into the room, the words came out of my mouth almost unbidden, "Travis, I know you signed the release, but I just want to make sure you are okay with me being in for your exam. Dr. David can be more thorough with me here, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable, since you'll have to see me later at work and some of the exam is very personal." Finally, my discomfort made sense to me. Although I cared for Travis in a way that I couldn't define, being his medical caregiver was something else. I didn't want my power in one situation to invade a relationship that should always be a safe one.

"It's fine, Miss Dara. Really." Travis answered, looking me full in the face, his eyes deep with meaning. I could see he really was okay. I would just have to trust that.

"Okay then," Dr. David interjected, beginning the exam. Unsurprisingly, Travis was as healthy a specimen as any doctor could hope to see: fit, non-smoker, plenty of exercise. I took notes, filling in Travis' chart as the doctor went through his routine.

"Now, I need to ask a few questions about your sexual activity. It's standard practice for patients your age," Dr. David said.

Travis cleared his throat before he began, flushing a bit, but managing to hide whatever he was feeling. "I'm involved with someone at the moment. She," he paused, looking for the words to explain what we did. "She stimulates me with her hand, on my penis and also in my anus. And sometimes she masturbates when she is with me."

"Anything else?" the doctor asked.

"Not at the moment," Travis continued. He sounded so brave, so unlike his usual bashfulness with me. "She makes the decisions about what happens." He was speaking to Dr. David, but looking straight at me. "I'd like there to be more, but it's not for me to say."

"I see," said Dr. David, although I doubted he did. "And any previous sexual partners?"

Now the old Travis came back, his face flushed crimson red as he looked at the floor. "Other than kissing, just one," he mumbled, the words rushing together. "In the spring, I was dating a girl I took to prom, and she gave me a few blowjobs and I touched her. But that's it. Nothing else." This time, he didn't look at me.

"Okay, then," Dr. David said. "I'm going to do a few cultures. STDs can be spread through oral sex, although a lot of folks don't seem to know that. And I want you to bend over so I can check that your current activities aren't doing any damage." Travis was red as a beet, but he bent over and let Dr. David examine his backside before he took the STD swabs, sliding a cotton tip into Travis's urethra.

"I don't see any sign of swelling or tearing back there," Dr. David was saying as I drew a few vials of blood, "so whatever you and your lady friend are doing, it seems to be fine. We'll have your lab results back in a week."

"Miss Dara, you're not mad at me are you?" Those were the first words out of Travis's mouth when I came home from work that night.

"About what?"

"About the girl, and the blowjobs. I'm glad it came out today; I wanted to tell you before but I didn't know how."

"Travis, I'm not mad. Even if there were something to be mad about, I'm too tired to even get mad. It was a hard day at work with only one nurse. Come up for dinner when you are done and we can talk then."

It really had been a hard day. With Christmas coming in a few weeks, people were coming in with the colds and other ailments that they picked up at holiday gatherings and out at the mall. I collapsed into my favorite chair and put my feet up on an ottoman. I would have plenty of money for Christmas gifts. I had called my attorney Brett Farley after my dirt-bag ex-husband Randy and his new wife Brittney had traded in a truck I owned and "helped" my son Tim buy a new car he couldn't afford. Tim drove me crazy, I guess the way most teenaged sons do, and it wasn't his fault his dad didn't know right from wrong. In any case, Randy had cut me a check for the $2,700 value of the truck after Brett explained that he and Brittney could be charged with auto theft. The car dealer, after reviewing their documents, was happy to cut another check for the $2,700 value of the truck after Brett explained how bad it would look for them to be investigated by the state for receiving stolen property. I planned to give the money from the dealer to Tim to help pay for his car. I understood why he didn't want the truck—that was his statement that he wasn't going to be a farmer, even if our farm had been family-owned for more than 100 years. And I knew, as a college student, making the payments on the new car was a stretch. The $2,700 would cover his payments for the better part of year and give him some breathing room. As I planned out the few other gifts I needed to buy, things for my parents, secret Santa gifts for work, and something for Travis, my hired hand knocked on the door.

"Come on in," I called. "Travis, I'm too tired to make dinner, but there's food if you don't mind putting it together." Travis's parents weren't the sit-down-to-dinner type, so I invited him to eat with me a few times a week.

"I don't mind, Miss Dara. Just relax and tell me what to do. And maybe after dinner you'll let me rub your feet again."

"That would be amazing. But dinner first. If you look in the refrigerator, you'll see a container of marinated mushroom salad I made. Second shelf, on the left I think. There's also some roasted sweet potatoes you can pop in the microwave for a few minutes until they are warm. And look in the drawer on the bottom left and there's some sliced turkey. That's for sandwiches. Can you put that all together while I close my eyes?"

"Yes, Miss Dara. You rest and I'll have dinner ready in a minute. It sounds delicious."

"Well, it's the best I can offer tonight, so I'm glad it sounds delicious."

I rested in the chair with my eyes shut, listening to the sounds of Travis moving around in the kitchen. It was a nice feeling, not being alone in the house. Presently, I heard some other sounds of rearrangement, but I kept my eyes closed. When I opening them, Travis had pulled a small side table up and laid out my dinner, with a kitchen towel serving as a tablecloth.

"Thank you Travis. The table is set perfectly, and I don't even have to move. But where are you going to eat?"

He answered, ducking his head, "I thought I'd just sit here on the floor and eat. I found a tray in the kitchen that will work as a table." He blushed, embarrassed at himself. I didn't think I would every get tired of his crimson cheeks; they made him almost irresistible, and I loved him taking a submissive posture so naturally.

"That will be nice. I'm too tired to go to the table to eat, and it will be pleasanter to have you as company instead of sitting in the other room at the table without me." Travis ducked his head again in response, blushing an even deeper shade of red, and smiling. I wondered briefly if he thought much about how he was changing, his natural deference and politeness turning to a need to demonstrate his submissiveness to me even when I wasn't demanding it. We ate in silence, then I closed my eyes again as Travis cleared up the dishes and settled back into a position on the floor near me, this time close enough so that he could rub my feet. I was so tired, I couldn't even fantasize. I just let myself drift into the relaxation of his touch and my overwhelming fatigue. I awoke in the dark, unsure for a moment where I was. I looked around, orienting myself to the fact that I was still on my couch, but Travis was gone. A soft chenille throw was draped over me, and I could see that he had turned on one small table lamp and closed up the curtains before he let himself out. I sighed a contented sigh and drifted back to sleep.

Even with the rush of getting ready for Christmas, things progressed as normal at Hollydale Farms. Travis milked the cows; I "milked" Travis. The latter was a lot more fun for everyone involved. My son Tim would be with his father for Christmas, and I planned to be with my parents for the holiday, leaving Travis in charge of chores, with a local retired dairyman I knew named Fred as backup in case of emergencies. In picking up gifts, I hadn't forgotten Travis, buying him a sturdy watch, a subscription to my favorite dairy farm magazine, and a book about herd management, and a final gift, a little surprise designed to benefit me as much as him. I left the gifts on his office desk in the barn with a note on top.

The note read:

"Travis, I've left you three things to read while I am gone. As they are all work-related, read them during work hours and leave them here. You'll be tested on all three when I return."

Under the two farming publications was a guide to providing a woman oral pleasure, written by a woman. There was nothing in it about getting a woman excited for the next order of business, as most guides for men are; it was all about satisfying a woman's needs without thought of your own.

Travis managed to surprise me as well. As I walked out to pack my car, I noticed a small box with a card labeled "Miss Dara" on the swing on the front porch. Inside was a gorgeous necklace, made to look like a string of wildflowers, set in aged brass. Some of the petals were painted, while other flowers had brass leaves with crystal centers. It was all in delicate shades of blue and green and yellow, which made it look so natural against the aged brass metal. The card read,

"Miss Dara, when I saw this I thought of you walking through the pastures, hard at work checking fences but surrounded by beautiful flowers you were too busy to enjoy. Now you will have wildflowers with you any time you want, and maybe even a moment to enjoy them. Merry Christmas, Travis. "

It was exquisite. Certainly nicer than anything I had ever received from my ex-husband. I slipped it around my neck, loving the weight and feel of it.

When I came back after my week away, everything was in perfect shape. There had been no emergency calls to Fred begging for help; Travis had managed the farm and the herd, the deliveries and the paperwork without a hitch. I found him working in Iris's stall, and I stepped and said hello, standing close as I praised him for all his hard work, my hand cupping the side of his face as his smile grew as quickly, although not as impressively, as his stirring erection. I let him go back to work as I double-checked the records, noting that there was no entry into the Prize Bull software on Travis's smartphone. Designed to track semen output in breeding bulls, I had had it modified to track every time Travis had an orgasm, with him responsible for entering the data. He hadn't masturbated since I left. I had noticed a drop-off in frequency of his solo sessions in the past months, but had chalked it up to him getting his needs met by me, whether by stimulating his prostate and masturbating him or by paddling him across my lap until he came. But I had been gone for a week.

"When you are done it looks like you are due for some relief, Travis," I announced.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, and I watched as he sped up his actions in order to finish sooner. When we met in the pen, I had a few questions.

"Travis, I've noticed you aren't masturbating very often. Are you forgetting to put data in the Prize Bull app?"

"No, ma'am."

"Well, I know you turn 19 at the end of February, but it's not like you are so old that your hormones have gone into a ditch. What's going on?"

He stammered a bit, blushing and kicking his toes against the towel he was standing on. Funny that standing naked in front of me waiting for me to violate his anus didn't embarrass him, but he couldn't talk about masturbation.

"Spit it out, Travis. I don't have all day," I finally said, making my voice angry, although I was really amused at his predicament.

"I guess I'd just rather wait for you, Miss Dara. I started a few times while you were gone, to masturbate, I mean, but then I just thought whatever we did together would feel better if I waited. So I waited."

Well, let's make it worth the wait then, I thought to myself, a little grin on my lips. I moved more slowly than usual, asking questions about what had happened on the farm as I first rubbed lube all over Travis's rock-hard cock, the skin soft and smooth against my hand. Putting a dab of lube on my finger, I slowly massaged his anus, not pushing in even when he pushed back toward me, clearly wanting what I wasn't ready to give him. I was in charge and he would have to wait until I was good and ready.