Harvest Moon High

Harvest Moon High -- Ch. 01

Rosie let out a low moan, her entire body trembling with delight.

She increased her pace, her ass smacking and jiggling against the wall as she plunged the protruding dildo in and out of her insatiable cunt. At last, she could feel the need inside her rise to a breaking point. Her panting turned to happy squeals, the artificial grass carpet tickling her stiff, swaying nipples as every inch of her sang with the joy. This was the pleasure that came only from a good, hard fucking. It was what she was made for. It was what all of them were made for. And finally, she was...

A discontented grunt issued from behind Rosie, followed by an all-too-familiar nudging at her hips. Her gyrations slowed, and Rosie let out a whimpering moo of protest, pleading to be allowed to finish. But it was no use: Grace wanted the wall-cock, and every herd-sister knew she would shove and bite anyone that denied her that privilege. She had always been a bit of a bully, but the tan blonde's reign of terror hadn't truly begun until one of the Owners finally fulfilled her. Since then, Grace's status as de facto queen had been assured, and she wasted no time lording her swelling tits and belly over the rest of the group. As frustrating as it was, the Owners' approval was absolute; the rest of the herd could do little but respect Graces' whims, and wish for the day when someone else would take enough seed to mount a convincing challenge.

Until then, Rosie would have to yield her place at the wall-cock, mooing sadly and sliding her quivering hips away from the precious toy. Grace didn't even wait for the strands of sticky juice to break before shouldering the smaller herd-sister aside, taking the cock for herself with a decisive clang of her collar bell. Rosie slinked away, still shaking with thwarted desire, and crawled to a quiet spot in the room, as far away from her bouncing and hooting tormentor as she could go.

Once at a safe distance, the dejected girl sunk down into the soft green carpet, hiding her humiliated expression behind unkempt locks of crimson hair. A newer herd-sister ambled nearby and mooed inquisitively, her lips parting and allowing her dripping tongue to slide free: an offering. Rosie grunted and shook her head: she wasn't in the mood. Her frustration wasn't just about orgasms—it was about going for ages without a nice, warm, honest-to-god dick inside her.

How long had it been? Well, time was a bit of a fuzzy haze for Rosie these days, as were concepts like numbers and counting. But the light behind the blurry windows had risen and set at least...several times since one of the Owners had last fucked her. The wall-cock served as an okay substitute, but now Grace wasn't even allowing that much.

Rosie needed to be taken. She needed hands to grab her hips and pull her hair; ached to feel an eager twitch against her pussy's lips; begged to wake up to hot, rigid pleasure every night; and yearned to leak cum down her legs every morning.

Alas. Some herd-sisters got all the luck. One of them was actually being mounted by an Owner right now, their loud, visible mating no doubt the reason why Grace was in such a mean mood. In a way, it was understandable—Rosie too seethed with jealousy as she watched the lucky girl's eyes roll back with cock-drunk bliss. It was undeniably hot. But somehow sickening too. Rosie turned away, desperate for something else to look at.

That's when she realized: something was different about the room now.

She squinted, fighting through the fog of arousal clouding her simple animal brain. Then it came to her: the door to their room was open. The Owner had forgotten to close it all the way.

And that meant...that meant...

Rosie crawled cautiously towards the ajar entrance, glancing over her shoulder with a quiet, uncertain moo. All the other herd-sisters were either transfixed by the mating, or otherwise engaged in carnal games of their own. Nobody else had noticed the door. And nobody moved to stop her.

The red-headed girl paused as her nose reached the threshold. She sniffed, afraid. It was scary, the thought of leaving her wonderful little world. But something deep inside her...some memory or instinct she couldn't name or understand...told her that there were more Owners outside. And that meant more cocks. Maybe if she could find where they all lived, they would reward her with as much cum as she wanted. That would be something, wouldn't it? Not even Grace got to enjoy such pleasure.

And so, with one last hesitant murmur, Rosie pushed through the door, and began her search for paradise.

______________________________

The loading circle made yet another rotation, and Kim's jaw tightened by yet another three notches. It was one thing to be locked out of her social accounts, but if she couldn't even get enough of a signal to open her email, she might as well throw herself from the car now and save everyone some misery. Maybe she would fall into a coma and wake up somewhere else; somewhere not surrounded by endless waves of yellowing grass; somewhere with lights beyond the occasional streetlamp and buildings taller than the sparse web of powerlines; or, at the very least, somewhere with some goddamn cell reception.

James cleared his throat in the driver's seat. "You know, you're gonna hurt your eyes if you keep glaring like that," he said.

Kim's gaze flicked from her phone to the rearview mirror, her expression not easing in the slightest. "You said I'd be able to stay in touch with my friends. But how am I supposed to do that if it takes fifteen minutes to send a text?"

"I'm sure you'll think of a way," the blonde buffoon scoffed. "Your mother and I survived just fine without smartphones when we were your age."

Kim winced. There was that phrase again. "Your mother and I." She hated when James used it so casually, as if he and Yuko had grown up as childhood sweethearts, and not gotten hitched less than a year ago. Not that he had ever cared much for details or Kim's feelings; from the moment they met, James had seemed all too eager to inhabit a fatherhood several sizes too big for even his broad shoulders. If only everyone else noticed how ridiculous he looked.

"It'll be alright." The kind face of Kim's mother peeked around the passenger seat, smiling despite the note of weariness in her voice. "We'll get the wi-fi set up as soon as we can. I'm sure your friends will want to hear all about your new school."

"Just don't forget to make some new friends as well," James added with a laugh. "Preferably the kind that live outside of the screen."

Kim opened her mouth to protest, but caught the look in her mother's eyes and decided against it. Transferring to a new high school was a nightmare for Kim, but she knew the move was tough on Yuko as well. They had always enjoyed being city gals together: a poet socialite and her rising star daughter, never far from a museum, gallery, or designer sale, always ready to bask in the inspiration and excitement life among the skyscrapers provided. That was before the troubled times, before the cheating and the yelling and the divorce. Kim had tried not to get involved, had tried to focus on her studies and friends, ignoring the waning warmth outside her bedroom door. Then one day she opened her eyes, and her father was gone, replaced by some organic chemist Yuko had found online. At first, Kim had assumed his stay would be temporary. There was no way her mother saw more in James besides a nice jaw and a full head of hair; no way she'd overlook his paternalistic manners and off-color jokes; no way she'd tolerate his flagrant displays of wealth and all-too-open signs of affection.

And yet...

Kim let out a sigh and rested her head against the window, watching yet another blank stretch of prairie roll by. It was so unfair. Just when she had managed to get used to having James around; just when her skin had stopped breaking out and the shine had returned to her long, dark hair; just when her grades were back at their usual heights and her basketball team was on track for a playoff season; just when it seemed like eighteen was going to be her best year yet, bam! Her dick of a stepdad gets a job at some food company, and movers are packing up the apartment within a week. No debate, no deliberation, nothing.

A herd of cows were grazing on a hill in the distance, trying to root out the last patches of green left by the dwindling November sun. Kim glowered at the few animals that rose their heads as the car passed. In a way, she envied them. They were just as helpless and captive as she was, but also too dumb to realize it. How blissful their ignorance must be; how comforting, to not know how little the world really cared.

Then again, they probably couldn't access their Insta either. Kim slid her finger across her phone screen once more, praying for a miracle.

"Ah, here we are," James announced, snapping Kim out of her despairing fog. "Everyone play it cool," he joked with mock seriousness.

Kim glanced out the window and furrowed her brow. The car had stopped at what looked like a toll booth erected on a forested country road, bordered by chain-link fencing that stretched endlessly into the surrounding trees. It was hardly the sort of small-town welcome Kim had expected, and she muttered as much to her mother while James chatted with the gate guard.

"It's probably because of your step-father's work," Yuko speculated. "They can't afford to have any of their experiments escape—they might damage the surrounding ecosystem."

"And their copyright, no doubt," Kim added wryly. She caught the guard staring at her mother for a moment before his gaze snapped back to James. The two men shared a knowing smile. No doubt Kim's step-father had just been boasting about how the "pretty little thing" next to him was his wife. It was one of his favorite topics, the pig.

"I know you don't approve of my work, Kimmy," he sighed as the car continued through the checkpoint. "But Happy Bell Labs is on the verge of revolutionizing the way science and agriculture mix. And it's all cruelty-free too."

"Wow, amazing," Kim slumped back into her seat. "Can't wait for you to invent a new kind of cheese stick or whatever."

"Kim, please," Yuko frowned. "You know it's hurtful when someone belittles your work."

"Just like when someone calls you a name you hate," Kim shot back. "Especially after you've told him over and over again."

"Oh." James stiffened and deepened his voice. "My apologies, Ms. Kim. Wouldn't want anyone to get the impression we're a family, Ms. Kim."

"Okay, okay," Yuko groaned. "Have we gotten it out of our systems now? I want to enjoy this moment in peace."

"Of course, darling." James pantomimed zipping his lips.

"Sure, whatever." Kim shrugged.

Yuko exhaled, and Kim couldn't resist a begrudging smile as peace settled onto her mother's features. It was an expression Kim was happy to see return, that of a poet opening herself to the world's wonder. As if answering Yuko's invitation, the branches overhead broke apart as the tree line faded, washing the car in amber evening. Then Bovidale's first buildings came into view.

It wasn't exactly a welcome sight. But Kim couldn't completely deny its charm. The town was a simple arrangement of cream-colored houses and bleached brick businesses, arranged in a cozy little valley between two gentle hills. On the first crest: the Happy Bell Labs, visible only now as a massive faux-barnyard façade, the tops of steam vents and smoke stacks the only evidence of the sprawling complex that lay beyond. Atop the second hill was Kim's new school, Harvest Moon High: a red, two-story rectangle of wooden slats and white-rimmed windows, topped by a bell tower that would no doubt become the bane of her mornings in the future. For now, though, Kim allowed herself some comfort that the dumpy village she had seen on Google Maps was apparently a thing of the past. The new money brought in by the food lab was being put to good use; hopefully the upgrades extended beyond exterior decoration.

Her reluctant relief continued as the car pulled up in front of their new home, a freshly renovated two-story house that radiated contemporary comfort despite its more classical style. The inside was just as tasteful, with spotless white walls, shiny wooden floors, and a kitchen bigger than Kim's old bedroom. All of their furniture was already waiting for them in the exact right spots, plus a few new additions that somehow fit in perfectly. When it came to relocating their employees, Happy Bell Labs apparently spared no expense.

"Oh my," Yuko breathed, staring through the sliding glass door at the deck and ample yard out back. "It's wonderful."

"Isn't it?" James grinned. "And look," he continued, opening the fridge to reveal an array of brightly colored packages and produce. "It all comes freshly stocked. Pretty neat huh?"

"Yeah..." Kim answered automatically, only to belatedly recognize the smug glint in her step-father's eye. He was clearly savoring this, seeing his step-daughter so taken by the home she had sworn to hate. Well, he might've won this round, but that didn't mean she had stand around and let him gloat. "I'm gonna go check out my room," she muttered, dashing off towards the stairs before either James or Yuko could intervene.

Much to Kim's chagrin, her bedroom turned out to be wonderful as well. Even cluttered with boxes, there was plenty of space to move around in, and the wide windows at the end offered a gorgeous view of the sunset soaked town. Her bed was massive, easily a queen if not larger, and the freshly steamed sheets felt so soft she almost collapsed into them immediately.

But then she noticed the outfit resting on top: a neatly folded white blouse set above a simple black skirt, with a spotted neckerchief crowning the monochrome set. It was her new school uniform, no doubt. The style was hardly to Kim's taste but...maybe it would surprise her, just as the rest of Bovidale had.

After determining that her door did indeed have a lock (another bonus), Kim removed the old T-shirt and jeans that had been her default travel apparel, pausing for a moment to consider herself in the full-length mirror. Despite the spending days with dusty roads and hotel cosmetics, she didn't look half-bad. No doubt the bounce and shine in her hair had taken a hit but—undoing her ponytail and shaking her dark strands free—she decided it could be a lot worse. Her body still had its athlete's tone, with subtle lines of muscle traveling up her lithe legs and arms, a perfect fit for her new school's basketball team. Her hips had always been slightly bonier and her bust slightly smaller than she would've liked, but those insecurities were barely worth noting anymore.

Unfortunately, it turned out her new uniform disagreed.

She could feel something was off immediately, and didn't even make it halfway up the blouse buttons before stopping and gawking at the mirror's reflection. There must've been some mistake. The tag on the blouse said "small," so why was it hanging off of her like a linen sack? How could a school skirt be short enough to rise above her knees, yet require several safety pins to secure around her waist? And what was the school thinking sending her such a tiny neckerchief? There was barely enough fabric to circle even her slender throat, and the polka dotted item resembled a cheap choker more than an elegant accessory by the time it was tied.

Still...at least the school hadn't skimped on the material. It might've felt like she was swimming in her own clothes but, as Kim shifted and stretched, the waves of fabric caressed her with such welcoming softness she almost forgot her aggravation. In fact...it was sort of nice, bunching the excess clothing against her chest, smoothing the skirt over her thighs and...

Kim blinked, a delicious waft of garlic and butter interrupting her reverie. Someone was cooking downstairs. And, as her mouth watered and her stomach growled, she realized how hungry the journey had left her. No more would she be forced to nibble on gas station snacks and continental breakfasts—real home cooking was back on the menu.

Hesitating only for a moment, Kim stripped off the strange uniform and put on a more sensible outfit of sweats, a tank top, and a zip-up hoodie. Once again properly clothed, she made her way back downstairs to the kitchen, and was thrilled to see James bent over the sleek gas stove, with Yuko seated patiently at the counter.

"Hey there." The busy chef brightened as Kim drew closer. "Hope you're hungry for some real food tonight."

"I guess..." Kim allowed, fighting not to show her excitement. James was an excellent cook, but he didn't need anyone else telling him that. "Please tell me you're actually making something healthy for once."

"I'm making something delicious," James assured with a wink. "Why don't we leave it at that?"

"Ugh," Kim's mouth said.

Hooray,

her taste-buds cheered.

"Kim, why don't you help me set the table?" Yuko requested, rising and gesturing for her daughter to follow.

"Huh? Really?" Kim arched an eyebrow. "What's wrong with eating in the kitchen like we usually do?"

"Nothing's wrong," Yuko smiled. "I just thought it might be nice. There's no point in having a dining room if you don't use it, right?"

"I'm not sure there's much point in a dining room, period," Kim snarked.

Her mother's eyes narrowed.

"B-but yeah, it does sound nice," the teen quickly added.

Like the rest of the home, the dining room was at least twice as big as Kim expected it to be, with a table of dark, rich wood long enough to seat a family of twenty. The two women decided to set a cluster of seats at the center, sifting through boxes for the proper tableware. As Kim tried to mimic her mother's napkin-folding technique, she noticed the elegant woman pause, a flicker of vulnerability in her dark eyes.

"Kim," Yuko said quietly. "I...I'm sorry for...making you go through all this. I know all this change hasn't been easy, nor has it always been fair to you. And for that, I deeply and truly apologize.

Kim hesitated. It had been a while since her mother had opened up like this. "I-it's alright," the teen awkwardly replied. "I'm sure I'll get used to it, it's just...been a lot, y'know?"

"It has." Yuko smiled sadly. "But...ever since your father left, I just...I've felt like I can't move forward until I make a fresh start. I know it's selfish to say that, and I don't expect you to...forgive me for it. Though, hopefully, someday..."

"Of course I will," Kim protested. "I mean, not that I, y'know, hate you now or anything. I'm just, uh...it's just, erm..." she let out an exasperated sigh, unable to complete the thought.

"It's a lot," Yuko laughed.

"It's a lot," Kim agreed.

The two resumed their work in mutual silence. By the time everything was in place, the smells from the kitchen had almost driven Kim mad with hunger. Fortunately, James arrived shortly thereafter, an ornate tureen and covered bread basket in his hands.

"Voila," he said to the seated women, revealing his creations with a flourish. "Enjoy."

Kim almost drooled as her mouth opened with awe. From an objective standpoint, the dishes were rather ordinary: penne pasta speckled with cheese and slathered in cream sauce, accompanied by fresh-baked garlic bread. Yet...perhaps it was her delirious appetite or the lighting in the room, but Kim could've sworn the food was glowing. And as she helped herself to a hearty sample, she realized its allure was no illusion.

The bread was incredible: perfectly toasted and textured, yet still soft and soaked in flavor. The pasta was transcendental, its rich, intoxicating creaminess enveloping Kim from the first bite, drowning her in a sea of sinful delight. It wasn't long before she was hurriedly reaching for seconds, the heaviness of the ensemble somehow not slowing her in the slightest.