Monstrous Ranch Ch. 06

"Can you at least explain why?" Senya rolled his eyes. "Why do we have to jump through these hoops? To be honest, I don't feel like I'm getting much better at this. In fact, I sort of feel like losing to these monsters weakens me every time."

"Sure." Bobbin grinned. "Because you've never been with them before. This isn't just about resistance, Master—it's about getting used to things. Trust me, she'll hold back if I'm there. I want her... confident."

"Did you just say you're sending me in alone to give her a... a false sense of security?" Senya shifted. "Because that sounds a little—"

Bobbin gave his butt a shove. "Get moving, Master! We have chores to do."

"Wait, what am I even supposed to do here?" he protested. But he was already walking through the doorway.

"Fill the bucket." Bobbin raised an eyebrow as the barn doors began to close. Just before they slammed shut, she called, "And use the trigger!"

The sound of the twin slams echoed throughout the vast construction. For a moment, Senya's vision was dulled, as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.

He found himself alone in a vast corridor absolutely filled with straw, such that he had to take extremely high steps just to crunch his way through. On either side were stalls with sliding wooden doors. Most were empty, or full of farm equipment. Some of the equipment was ordinary—wheelbarrows, broken ploughs, an impressive quantity of hoes—and some was decidedly esoteric.

As he went, Senya passed by a stall full of what was clearly bondage equipment. He paused, peering inside. Whips and cats o' nine tails hanged from the walls, along with collars, strapons, and shackles—some fuzzy and almost playful, some wraught-iron and covered with arcane sigils. The center of the stall was occupied by an actual rack. He swallowed, noticing the 'extra features' the rack bore: Nipple clamps, feathers, paintbrushes, and a set of leather chaps that had been left on the table. Conspicuous stains marked the place roughly where the occupant's groin would be.

This stall was not particularly dusty. Idly, Senya wondered if Bobbin fit those chaps.

He glanced to the left. The stall on the opposite side contained a large, cobweb-covered sewing machine, as well as a collection of disturbingly-stained knives and saws. He swallowed. Well. This is weird.

There were only a few more stalls, and all but one had closed doors. Next to the open stall, propping the door open, he saw a large, steel bucket. It was roughly the size of his torso.

From behind the stall door, he could hear faint moans.

Okay, he thought, advancing with an increasing feeling of doom, so she lives in a barn. I'm supposed to fill a pail. Cow. Holstaur. Fuck, what are holstaurs good at, again?

Unfortunately, Senya realized that his sole experience with holstaurs was from a lewd graphic novel he'd read some years ago. The drawings had depicted holstaurs as massive-breasted centaur-like women desperate to be milked, willing to do anything just for the privilege of having their udders squeezed by a strapping young male protagonist. They had been utterly eager to submit.

From all the buildup this encounter had been given, Senya had a feeling the story had minimized some elements.

He glanced back at the bucket, swallowed, and stepped up to the doorway.

The interior of this final stall wasn't quite what he'd been expecting. He realized he'd expected some sort of standard dusty stall, just with a woman inside, instead of farm tools. But this room was full of freshly-mowed green grass. In the right-hand corner closer to the door was a large thing covered by a white sheet. The stall was suffused with the strong scent of rosemary, and he could see the source: There were of herbs hanging above the doorway. Rose petals trailed from the entrance, red striking against green, and into the far corner of the room.

And lounging in the corner was the holstaur.

The comic had not exaggerated. If anything...

The first thing Senya noticed was that she was nothing like a centaur—she was fully humanoid, just like the fleece sprites, save for her lower legs, which were covered with spotted black-and-white fur, and which ended in hooves.

The second thing he noticed was, well, twofold.

The holstaur's breasts were immense. Ridiculously immense. Comedically immense. Each breast was the size of a small watermelon, and they were covered by a length of silk that seemed to be constantly on the verge of snapping. Beneath the thin silk, Senya saw smooth, pearl-white skin and dark aerolas. The area around the nipples was unmistakably wet.

She had long silver hair, and her skin was surprisingly pale. Then again, if she spent most of her life in this barn, perhaps that wasn't so surprising. Her eyes were a deep hazel—easily the least green eyes he'd ever seen on a non-lust sprite fey. Those eyes watched him, vaguely amused, as he stared down at her.

She lay in the grass, smiling lazily up at him, one finger toying with one nipple through the silk. Her legs were furry, but they were also spread wide, and her pussy was just slightly open as the other hand fiddled with it.

She regarded him for a moment, then glanced at the pail. Her eyes widened slightly. She looked back at him, her lips parting just a fraction of a second before she started to speak. "Y-you're here to milk me?"

Her voice was slow and sensuous, but rose slightly on the word 'milk'.

"Um..." Senya swallowed. "Yeah. Yes. I am."

"Oh, thank the goddess." She gave a weak laugh, rising to her feet. "It's been... so long..."

"Doesn't Bobbin milk you?" Senya found himself staring straight at her breasts. She was tall.

"Oh, no." She shook her head. Her breasts bounced with every step she took as she slowly advanced towards him. "Only my wonderful Master can milk me. And I've waited..." her voice dropped to a breath, "so, so long."

"Uh, hold on." Senya took a step back, holding up the pail like a shield. "I... I don't think I want to..."

"What is it, Master?" She cocked her head. Those eyes... they seemed legitimately naive. Innocent. Senya had learned to mistrust innocent eyes.

"I know how this goes," he said, struggling not to trip on his own words. He could feel his cock throbbing, could tell it longed to thrust within her. "You... you're gonna tackle me, and hypnotize me, and fuck me, and..." He licked his lips. "And this time I'm not gonna get a rescue, I don't think. They expect me to handle this on my own. So you'll... if I give in, you'll fuck my brains out, and make me a slave, and then I'll really be in trouble. And it all comes down to if I give in. So I'm saying no."

The holstaur stared at him, wide-eyed. Silence hung between them for a moment.

Then, she burst out into giggles. "Oh, Master... why didn't you say so?"

He blinked. He'd expected denials, or even just a flat-out attempt to hypnotize him on the spot. "What?"

"Of course you're worried, dear boy." The big-breasted beauty put a finger to her pouting lips. "Just look at me. I'd be worried about me, too. I can barely keep from fucking myself all the time. You? Ooh, you must be so horny, looking at someone like me, with a cock so big and needy."

Senya bit his lip. "Right."

"But I promise not to tackle you!" She winked. "Or fuck your brains out, even. I won't make you do anything." Her fingers both played over her breasts, and her words turned breathy. "I'll be such a good holstaur for you. I'll even ask permission!"

"that... your word doesn't mean much." He bit his lip. "Sorry. You're not a nymph, after all."

"Ooh! Somebody knows his fey!" She tittered. "Yes, I'm not bound to my word, but I am bound to that." She gestured behind her, at the large covered object. "Or... I can be."

Senya stared at it. Beneath the sheet, it looked something like a reclining chair. "What is it?"

"Oh, Master..." She swayed her hips as she moved towards it. Even from behind, he could see her improbably breasts jiggling with every motion. She grabbed the sheet and yanked it away. "You will come to adore it."

It was a massive armchair. A chair of billowing blue silks, with long ribbons that unmistakably resembled restraints. The holstaur hopped up—and how she managed to be so athletic with those ridiculous things, Senya had no idea—and settled into the chair, wiggling her butt a little to get comfortable. She slipped her arms and legs into the restrains, then grinned at him coquettishly. "Almost ready!" she called. She beckoned him over with one curled finger.

Senya reluctantly approached. She smiled up at him, seeming totally comfortable with this situation. "Do me here," she indicated her wrists, "here," she indicated her belly, "and here," she indicated her legs.

Senya realized, after a moment of furious blushing, that she wanted him to fix the restraints in place.

He hunched to handle the wrists, first, and couldn't help but admire the smoothness of her skin. He proceeded to her feet—her toes wiggled playfully as he drew the silk knot taut—and then, hands trembling, her belly. His hands were right below her breasts, and she giggled as he worked. "It tickles!" she squeaked.

He couldn't resist. He reached up with one hand and tickled right underneath her breast. She let out a startled squeal. "Naughty boy! Heehee!"

As he tickled the breast, beads of pure-white milk began to appear at the tip of her nipple. She squirmed against his fingers, giggling louder. He kept tickling, amused and turned on, until a bit of milk actually squirted out and hit him in the cheek.

He blinked. So did she.

She licked her lips. "Want me to... get that for you?" she husked.

Without thinking, Senya found himself leaning in. He felt her tongue lap against his cheek, cleaning away the milk. She laughed. "Darling boy."

Then his senses returned to him. He quickly pulled back, coughing. "Um... better not waste any more. Sorry."

"Oh, believe me, little one, I was not complaining." She winked.

But it was done. The cowgirl was totally trussed up. She sat calmly in that chair in front of him, totally helpless—in theory. Senya knew that, in reality, a fey could be dangerous even bound as tight as an arachne girl's mate.

He looked down at the pail and bit his lip. "Now what?"

"Now?" she beamed at him. Her expression seemed considerably less innocent now. "Now, dear boy... you milk me. You clearly know the trigger. Bobbi taught you, I take it?" Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and almost made him drowsy to look at. "I don't suppose she left any... other instructions? Perhaps I could help you work out what to do next with me."

"But..." He ignored this offer and glanced at the bucket. "So I just leave it at your feet. Because I can't lift that if it gets full."

"Yes, dear." She nodded patiently. "It is enchanted to catch any milk that passes nearby it, so aim isn't an issue. I just need your lovely fingers again."

He swallowed. He wanted to stall further, but he had a feeling that drawing out his time with the holstaur might be a bad idea. So he reached forward, only to realize that he still needed to remove her blouse. It was tied behind her back.

He suddenly wished he'd done this earlier. Now she was in the chair, he couldn't just have her turn around to do it. He had to actually... reach around her body. And her breasts were large enough that this was no small task. It would require a tight embrace to reach both hands.

He hesitated. Uncertainly, he reached forward again. "Do you mind...?"

"Oh, no, darling." She smiled up brightly at him. Her smile was the same, but those eyes were not youthful. Those eyes spoke of years, centuries of experience.

Senya had never had the sense that he was sleeping with older women when he'd slept with the lust sprites, or Brigitte. Despite their many years, they always acted as if they were his age. But this holstaur felt... different. She knew him. Or knew how to handle people like him, anyways.

"What's your name?" he found himself asking.

She only smiled and leaned forward a little. His arms would now have room to move behind her, but still not enough that he could enter entirely from her right.

He rubbed his palms together. Enough delaying. Taking a deep breath, as if by avoiding breathing in any of her musk he would be able to avoid getting even harder, Senya reached around her with one arm. Yes, and there was the knot, right at the center of her back. He could feel it. Now he just had to undo it.

He was now leaning over her. She was smiling right up at him.

The carpenter reached forward with his other hand. His chest pressed against her breasts, and he felt a sudden wetness against his bare skin. She really is lactating. She let out a soft moan. And she's getting off on it.

Unfortunately, he still couldn't quite reach. He leaned in further, practically pressing his chest right up against her face. His other hand finally reached the knot, which was surprisingly tight. He supposed it had to be tight to keep these amazing breasts in check.

He gave a little start as a different sort of wet feeling flicked over his bare chest. It took him a moment to realize: She had licked him!

"Stop that!" he yelped. "Please, you promised!"

A pause.

"So I did, Master," she said, her voice suddenly demure. "Do you not like it?" She gazed up at him, a guilty frown marring her perfect face.

"I..." No, he told himself. Be firm. And not in the way that he was currently pressing against her knee. "Just... try not to lick me without asking for it. Please."

"I'm sorry, Master. It just feels... so good." Her shoulders rose up and down in an uneven wriggle. "To finally be getting milked again."

"Why can't Bobbin milk you, anyways?" Damn, this knot was complicated. His fingers were getting sore working on it.

"Bobbin did, once." The holstaur laughed. "She, um... she took a taste to it. They had to ban her from the task."

His knotwork froze for a moment. "Oh." Even Bobbin had had trouble with this? 'Took a taste' to it?

Senya finally pulled back, drawing the strip of silk away. He watched as the breasts bounced free, her big, pert nipples fully on display. He licked his lips without even thinking about it, seeing the liquid forming at the tips. She let out a soft moan. "Oh, baby, that feels so good."

"So..." He swallowed again. Was it humid in here? "Are you, um, ready?

"Oh, darling boy..." She used her shoulders to push her breasts together, just a little. "I'm just... oozing, aren't I? If only I had some handsome young man who could relieve some of this ache. I'd be so grateful to him."

Senya hesitated. "But..."

"The bucket," she moaned. "You have to lean over and milk me. It'll squirt into the bucket. Oh, please, I need it so bad—"

Senya reached forward with one hand and touched a nipple. As if desperate as for release as its owner, a little bit of milk dribbled out. A strangely familiar smell filled Senya's mind.

He put his doubted aside, placed his hands beneath both breasts, and started to tickle. He didn't know much about milking, but it was soon clear that no expertise was needed—the holstaur squealed and giggled as milk shot out of her tits and rained into the bucket. The milk seemed to follow impossible arcs to land directly inside.

He tickled expertly. He'd always been a good tickler. Quite soon, the holstaur seemed almost totally insensible.

"Oh, yes—" the holstaur whimpered, "yes, yes, yes—yes-yes-yes—wonderful, thank you, I'm a good cow, a good cow—" Her back arched, and she screamed up at him, "Thank you, Master!" as she came.

Senya slowed down his attentions, just a hair.

"Don't stop," she whispered. "Don't you dare!"

So he didn't. He kept stroking and tickling her breasts, and the orgasm went on. And on. His cock was rock-hard. He was salivating at the delectable smell. It was exhausting work.

At last, seeing that the bucket was almost half-full, he decided to take a break. He sat down on the chair's arm, taking in deep breaths. The holstaur panted behind him, still recovering.

Bobbin had been so afraid of this woman. Was she... was she only afraid of the holstaur because it could control her? It would explain a lot.

"Mm..." The holstaur squirmed happily. Senya looked down at the bucket—almost halfway full—then at her. She smirked up at him. "Darling boy."

"You enjoyed that?" he asked, a small smile on his face.

"You know, I did." She wiggled her hips a little, returning the smile. "And I see you did, too."

He looked down at his throbbing manhood. Oh, he was naked again.. This was just going to be his default state for a while, wasn't it?

"Did I do that?" she asked, in a tone of mock-naivete. "Goodness, I know how you feel. I'm just... oozing, aren't I?"

He turned to face her, his legs diagonal across her own. She lounged back in the armchair. Her expression was fond, but there was a quality to it that Senya wasn't sure he liked. Or, rather, he wasn't sure why he liked it so much.

"You like me, baby?" she whispered. "You want me?"

"I—" Danger. Danger. "I, um—"

"Oh, silly boy. I know you do." Senya felt her hand rest on his leg, right next to his cock. "I want you, too. I want to thank you. You've been such a sweet little thing for me."

"Don't..." His mouth was dry. "Don't touch my cock."

A pause. Senya tried to focus on her lips, lush and pink, keeping everything else out of his head. "Of course. Not without permission."

"Yeah. Okay." He tried to swallow, but there was no saliva left in his mouth. He licked his suddenly chapped lips.

She seemed to notice this. "Thirsty?" her lips cooed.

"Um..." His eyes traveled, unbidden, down to her breasts. Massive. Smooth and soft. Dripping.

"You could just try a taste, you know," she murmured, hand petting his leg soothingly. "Just a sip. It would wet your throat. Make you feel better, mm?"

"Mm..." Senya tried to form an objection, but her breasts were drawing all of his attention right now. They heaved a little bit.

"Just looking at them feels so good, doesn't it?"

"Mm..."

"Don't worry, baby, you don't have to answer. No, little one." Her tone was so sweet, so... motherly, Senya could feel himself slipping under once again. It was so hard to think, or to worry about what she was saying. "Don't have to think about my words. Just focus on what you want and what I want. They're the same thing, I think, aren't they, darling?"

"Mm?"

"Mm-hm." The holstaur leaned forward, as far as the silk bindings would allow. Her breasts bounced. "Why not try a drink?" she whispered. "It would be so sweet, my sweet boy. Just a sip. Just a taste."

Just a taste.

He struggled to fight it, but her breasts loomed before him. They looked so sweet... so beautiful... he could feel himself leaning down into her waiting arms...

"Poor, silly boy," she murmured. "You're so silly and confused, and you know my boobies' sweet milk will make you feel so much better. They can make you all big and strong and hard and horny for me, and that would make me so happy. All you need do is ask."

"No..." he whimpered. He had to fight this! He struggled to pull away, to resist the magnetic pull...

"Oh, yes." She chuckled. "If only there was another way for you to wet your thirst. Then, maybe, you could resist it. Then, maybe, you could get back to work. But you're so thirsty, and my poor baby needs his milk..."

Wait.

There was another way!

Senya pulled himself back up, a triumphant smile on his face. "Not so fast!" he said, reaching down. There was a convenient ladle on the ground, and he picked it up. It was actually quite clean. Lucky it had happened to be there.