A Christmas treat for all my loyal readers. All characters in this story are over 18 years of age. Enjoy!
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Perrin Anders slammed the hoe into the ground once more. Taking off his hat, he wiped away the sweat of the morning's work and looked out over the fields. Rows on rows of seeds had been sown in the dark fertile earth, awaiting the first rains. He looked up further, past the edge of the warded fence and to the forest which grew wild at the edge of his property. Underbrush exploded beneath towering trees whose foliage wreathed the land below in shadow. Tangled thorns and vines strangled the darkness where strange things lived and hunted. Things his mother had warned him against. Things that had claimed his father long before Perrin could remember the man. Perrin turned nineteen that winter, and so was due the farm and all its environs. A heavy task for one so young, but he had confidence nonetheless.
Perrin sighed and shook his head. He had other problems anyway. With his mother, Charla, dead, all the work of the farm fell all to him. And there was so much to do...
"Hello there."
Perrin jumped at the voice in a world of silence. He turned sharply towards the gate and gaped. A woman stood there, leaning on the fence. The only thing she wore was a pair of overalls that did nothing to hide her curvy form. And curvy was the right word. She was even taller than him, a pair of stubby cow horns rising out of her mottled black and white hair. Her face was serene and beautiful in a matronly way, and her breasts...
Well, there was no getting around her breasts. They swelled against the front of her overalls, mashed against the thick fabric and risking popping free with her every movement. Perrin could fairly hear those generous orbs slosh with their creamy bounty. Her scent filled the air with a far from unpleasant, creamy fragrance that made him acutely aware of how tight his pants were.
Perrin had never met a holstaur before, one of the many creatures created during that cataclysmic event that had formed the Lost Lands. When demons and their taint had spread from rifts across the world, mutating and reshaping the land and beasts who'd resided there. But he had heard enough to be wary. Though they were far from the most aggressive creatures around the Wire Woods, he'd heard of them preying on men and women. Enticing them into their arms, soothing and enthralling the unwary with their addictive cream.
"Hello," Perrin said, stepping slowly towards the fence. "Can I help you?"
"Well I do hope so, sweet thing. Name's Tabitha." She drew out a placard showing 'Help Wanted' in large black letters. "You the one who put this up on the road?"
"Oh," Perrin said. "Um, yes. I did."
"Well isn't that plum perfect! It just so happens I'm looking for a place to work," she said, beaming radiantly.
Perrin hesitated at that. He was never terribly good at this part. During the harvest season, when extra hands had been needed, his mother had usually handled the more confrontational aspects of the farm's business ventures, while he much preferred to get his hands in the dirt and work the fields.
Tabitha smiled again. A very warm smile, Perrin noted. "I understand. You've probably heard about holstaurs, haven't you?"
Perrin shifted. "Well..."
She laughed richly. "Oh, don't worry your silly head there, darling. Truth be told, some of my sisters have been... well, aggressive to be sure," she said. "And you see, the stories don't lie. But they are a bit of an exaggeration."
"O-oh?"
"Oh yes," she said, leaning in, and oh but it was a trial not to look down into the creamy valley that was revealed. "You see, a holstaur needs to be milked, darling. And some cows, well, if they don't get it, they become a little... aggressive. See? And if they're too long gone and find a nice fella or filly, then they just can't help themselves, and pull the poor little thing into their big, milky tits. And of course, sometimes, you get the worst sort. The sort that go ahead and take advantage of pretty young things like you, making them addicted to their cream and milking their essence."
Perrin blushed, swallowed thickly, his cock throbbing. "I... I see."
"But you don't need to worry about that with me," she said, winking. "See, I got myself a personal milker. Keeps me nice and empty so I can live my life as I like. Make sure I don't have to find myself some cute little boy to do it for me all the time. Not that I complain. It feels right good having a fella on my lap, their soft lips on my teat and just... drinking all my cream."
She shivered, her breasts bouncing with the movement. Perrin stared at those rich, full orbs perhaps a little longer than was proper before he managed to pull his eyes back to her smiling face. "I... I see."
"I bet you do," she chuckled. She brushed back her mottled hair with a weary sigh. "And I want t' settle down. But wouldn't you know it? I get chased out of everywhere, try as I might. Cities and towns only believe those tales of us taking sweet milky thralls and keeping them nice and dumb and horny. Little more than pet milk slaves for us. And I'm not looking to wander over the world no more. A holstaur doesn't much like to wander. We wanna find a nice homestead, see? Just settle in nice and proper. And I ain't afraid of working for it. That's why I was so excited t' see your sign on the road looking for a housekeeper."
Perrin chewed on his lower lip, thinking. Or, trying to. Her sweet, creamy scent was awfully distracting. But he had always thought of himself as a good man. A kind one. And his mother never would have turned away someone in need...
"Seems to me you got yourself some nice wards here," she observed suddenly. She reached out and tapped one of the poles fencing the property. The ward written on the wood flashed red, sparking. She pulled her finger back, and Perrin watched raptly as she sucked it. "Smart of you. Keeps the demon's taint and those carrying it out. And looks like it's a contract work. So, how about this. You just tell me the laws of the land, and I'll swear to obey them so long as I'm on the property. Sounds fair?"
Perrin licked his lips. It did sound alright... Though his mother had arranged the wards after his father was lost to the forest, Perrin had never actually worked a contract with someone. But he had seen his mother apply it to a few of the tainted when they worked for a season, to keep them out of trouble.
"Tell you what," he said at last. "We'll have a... trial period for a few weeks. See how it goes."
Tabitha brightened eagerly. "You will! Well that's mighty kind! Now, how's about that ward contract? How about we say... I'll not do anything that you won't want me to. Sounds good?" she asked. "That way, you don't have t' worry about me tricking you into doing something... silly."
"I... I guess that sounds good. My mother usually did this..."
"Aw, you poor thing. Lost your mother hm?" the holstaur said sympathetically, and there was an odd twinkle in those dark, beautiful eyes.
Perrin cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. Right. So, the ward..." Perrin raised his hand and spoke the pass spell. Tabitha closed her eyes as a ribbon of magic stretched out from the ward and gently wrapped around her throat, forming a dark band inscribed with the words of the contract. She took a sharp breath as the spell sealed itself, snapping off the ward and glowing on her throat like a collar.
And before Perrin knew what was happening, he was in the statuesque woman's arms, his head pressed against the soft cushion of her breasts. He gasped, head spinning as he was treated to a sudden flood of her creamy scent. "Oh, thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! Such a sweet boy, giving me a hand like this. I don't know how I can repay you, sweet thing that you are," Tabitha cooed and nuzzled him lovingly.
