Monstrous Ranch Ch. 07

Bobbin the hob and 'Mommy' the holstaur faced off against one another. Senya lay back in a soft, silken chair, his cock trapped inside his new mistress's wet pussy. His lips remained fastened around her breast, and he could feel his mind going, very slowly, the longer he suckled at her glorious teats.

Mommy had her neck craned to watch Bobbin as she slowly continued to rise up and down on his shaft. Milking him. He whimpered in bliss. Not even the threat of Bobbin was giving him a reprieve from the constant bliss.

Bobbin slowly circled around them, entering the stall. Senya felt like he was only catching glimpses of her—like he was drifting in and out of consciousness. The creamy, sweet milk poured down his throat, banishing all doubts. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever tasted. He needed more. He drank hungrily, desperately. The distraction was only slightly slowing his impending orgasm.

"Sweet little Bobbi," moaned Mommy, caressing one of his own nipples with a finger. "You used to love this chair. Jealous?"

"I am giving you a direct order," Bobbin hissed. "Let him go. Don't you dare make him cum again."

"I can't make my darling baby boy do anything, Bobbi." Mommy smiled, wrapping her hand around his head and pressing against her breast. "He wants this. Don't you, baby?"

He moaned in response. Yes. Whatever she said. Whatever she wanted, he wanted. Her slick pussy contracted around his cock, almost as a reward—he trembled, totally helpless beneath her.

"He's making himself cum," Mommy murmured, wriggling her hips in time with her words, "all. By. Him. Self."

Senya's eyes screwed shut, but the image of her perfect, angelic silver-haired face smiling down at him felt burned into his mind. He started to whine, milk dribbling from his gasping lips. He was too horny even to drink. Too aroused to control himself.

But deep down, he knew he'd drunk enough.

"Look at him, baby," Mommy cooed, and he dimly realized she was addressing Bobbin, not him. "Look at his eyes. Dear boy, open your eyes." He felt his eyes open automatically, but everything was unfocused, indistinct. He found himself staring into the eyes of Bobbi.

Bobbin. She was biting her lip as she gazed on him. Her cheeks were flushed.

"This could be you, baby," Mommy soothed. "You remember that look in your eyes. So sexy. So sexy for your milking Mommy."

"Mommy," Bobbin said, her voice small. "I-I mean... holstaur. This is an order."

And Mommy turned to smirk at her as she gripped one of her own nipples and tugged. A fresh jet of milk squirted into Senya's mouth and straight down his throat. His brain melted as one last burst of lust swelled within him. "I think you take orders from me, don't you, baby?"

"N-no..."

Mommy turned back to smile at Senya. She rose up, with one last gasp, and then—

And he came.

Lust utterly devoured Senya's mind, and he screamed. Mommy smothered his cries by pressing him against her breasts, but he shook and writhed all the same. At some point, she'd bound him in the silk restraints—or he'd mindlessly bound himself—and all he could do now was squirm and buck upwards beneath her.

He could feel her will gripping his, holding him, wrapping its vastness around around him and holding him tight. It felt so safe. So perfect.

Mommy was coming, too, though she didn't scream. She just let out a long, shuddering sigh. "Good boy," she whimpered. "G-good, thirsty boy. Drink. Drink. Be my good—my good—ohhhh."

Gradually, the orgasm ebbed. But already, Senya could feel another rising as Mommy continued to rise up and down above him. She was still horny. She still wanted more. He could only pray she would want more forever, because he knew now that he would never be able tom get enough of her.

His lips had slid from her breast in his mindless pleasure, but now she was holding it up to him again, readying to squirt more tasty milk down his throat. She giggled. "Doesn't it look nice, darling girl?"

"... it does," Bobbin whispered, and Senya almost didn't recognize the weakness in her voice. That weakness gave him pause. "Looks... nice..."

Some tiny spark of independence flared in him. Not Bobbin.

"Bbbn!" he cried, only to be silenced again by the holstaur's massive tit. And then more milk was sliding down his throat, and he was suckling again, unable to stop. His mind sank back into sweetness. He was a good boy. He was Mommy's good boy.

"Well, Bobbi?" the holstaur whispered. "Are you ready to join him?"

Bobbin seemed to rally slightly in response to Senya's cry. "I... I c-command you—"

"Hee. No. No, baby." Mommy sounded terribly smug. "I command you to get on your knees for me. My playthings don't walk on two legs. Okay, baby?"

A long pause. The only sound in the room was Senya's mindless suckling.

The silence was broken by the sound of an explosion. Senya suddenly felt terrible heat graze over him. The holstaur was ripped from his body, and he heard a crash, and the sound of breaking wood.

He blinked and looked around. Part of the wall of the stall had caved into the corridor. The holstaur lay on the floor, but she was already struggling to her feet. She looked only slightly scuffed up.

"Bad girl," Bobbin hissed. "Bad girl. Bad girl. Bad girl!"

"Aaah!" The holstaur started to writhe and shake. Apparently, these triggers still worked. "N-no! I'm s-sorry!"

Bobbin strode over, and Senya saw that her pants were down to her ankles. She was staring down at the holstaur with a look of pure fire. "Bad girl. Bad girl." She stooped, and Senya saw her drawing out from her sleeve a long, pink feather. She approached the holstaur's breasts. "Bad. Girl!"

"Bobbin," Senya whispered, struggling to his feet. He picked up the bucket—nearly impossible, as it had somehow made it to three-quarters full during all of this. "B-Bobbin."

"Bad girl," Bobbin husked, and she brought the feather closer and closer to the wriggling, spasming fey. There was a familiar look in those eyes. "Bad g—"

Senya grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her target. She looked up at him, startled, almost as though she'd forgotten he was there. "W-we should go," he managed.

Bobbin blinked. She looked down at the holstaur, spasming, moaning. She licked her lips and rubbed her tits together, cheeks bright red, whole body glistening with sweat.

Then she took off running for the exit, dragging Senya behind her.

~~~~

"I'm sorry," Bobbin gasped. "I'm s-so sorry! I didn't—didn't—"

Senya watched her, biting his lip, as she sat against a large elm and used one hand to hold her pussy lips open. The other was furiously toying with her sex. She'd reached two whimpering orgasms already. Nothing seemed to satisfy her. He had a feeling he knew what satisfied her these days, and it lay back in that gods-forsaken barn.

It was sort of uncomfortable. He was her boss, but their dynamic sure wasn't like any employee-employer relationship he'd ever heard of. And now she was frigging herself off in front of him.

The worst part was, she'd asked him to watch her. Gods only knew why. It was almost like she didn't trust her own mind.

Well, in fairness, Senya could relate.

"Are you okay?" he asked. He wasn't feeling any stabler, but he didn't have the fey arousal. At least he'd been able to come a couple times and gain some relief—it didn't work that way for fey. Fey only got hotter and hotter with every orgasm. Unless pressed by outside forces, they only stopped when they were too exhausted to move. "She, um... she really did a number on us, huh?"

Bobbin wasn't in any shape to answer his questions, but she did eventually stop masturbating. She let out a long, low sigh, then snapped her fingers. Suddenly, she was fully-clad again.

He eyed the trousers, biting his lip. "Can't you do that for me?"

"You mean what I was just doing?" She giggled. "If you insist..."

His face heated up, and he took a reflexive step back. "N-no! I mean..." He gestured at her trousers, then at his own naked form.

She glanced at him, head tilting. All business again. "Why?" She winked. "I'm just kidding. It only works for me. A house fey must always be presentable, no matter what she's just been up to."

"Oh." He glanced back at the barn, then at the house, which they had more-or-less fled to. The fleece sprites lay nearby in their pen, calmly watching them. "So she, um... Mommy—"

"Don't call her that." Bobbin's voice was sharp, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Then what do I call her?'

She looked up at him, then cracked her knuckles, averting her gaze. "I don't know."

Senya stared blankly at her. "You don't know her real name?"

"It's complicated." Bobbin crossed her legs and stretched each shoulder in turn. "Anyways, I'm sorry. I didn't think she'd manage to resist control like that. And she got that damn chair out! She shouldn't even be able to leave her stall, much less make it all the way to the storage for that... that awful thing!" Her tone modulated oddly on the word 'awful', as though she was scrambling for a different word than the first one that had come to mind. He saw her nibble her lower lip.

"It's not normally in her stall?" Senya groaned. "I thought that chair was to restrain her!"

Bobbin rolled her eyes. "Of course she said that. No, that's a faedelight. It's woven for bondage sessions. It has... mental effects."

Senya swallowed. "On the person in it?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking." Bobbin rubbed her eyes. "Sorry. I am sorry I'm being so cagey, Master. I'm rattled. This shouldn't have happened. I didn't know she'd be able to outright jump you—I figured she might get you milk-drunk, but to actually tie you up..."

She trailed off. A long, uncomfortable silence hung between them.

"Right." Senya coughed. "Um. She didn't so much 'jump' as, er..." He rubbed his wrist. "W-well, the milk, you see—"

"Ooh." They both turned. One of the fluffy fleece sprites—Angora, in fact—had crawled to the fence and was watching them through heavy-lidded eyes. "You two look..." She yawned. "Really sleepy. Like me."

"Not today," Angora." Bobbin grimaced. "We have more visits left for the Master."

"Okay." Angora smiled. "How about you?"

She turned to Senya.

Senya felt her eyes sinking into him. He remembered how soft her wool was as he gazed into those soft eyes. They filled him with drowsy thoughts. How he longed to crawl over... to rest his head in her breasts once again...

He bit his lip and closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the hypnotic images. "We should go," he muttered.

"Yes." To his surprise, Bobbin sounded... vaguely approving. "There will be time for them later."

"... right." Senya tried not to show his disappointment as he got to his feet and turned away. He tried not to have disappointment. He didn't want the fleece sprites, did he? For the gods' sakes, he had the puppy sprites now! Barring mind control, how could he ever want for more? And how could he want to have sex with creatures he knew would mind control him?

Maybe because, a dark part of his mind whispered, he really, really wanted it. Wanted to be controlled. Wanted to give in.

He hurried after Bobbin, trying to shut out the memories of sparkling eyes, swinging breasts, and soft, luxurious wool.

~~~~

"Where are we going now?" Senya asked. He hadn't even realized that the hill they were now climbing was part of the Ranch—it lay all the way past a most curious henhouse Bobbin had made him give a wide berth to—but sure enough, the wall lay just beyond the hill. A copse of what could only be described as... clover trees grew around a small cottage. By clover trees, Senya meant exactly that—their trunks were like those of trees, but the branches composites what resembled massive purple clover blossoms. He couldn't see more than that from the path.

"The amulet," Bobbin said, and his heart leaped with hope. "We're gonna go start preparations."

"That's... that's really good." Senya let out a short laugh. "You've seen how weak my will is, Bobbi. I don't think I'll hold up much longer."

"You were holding up to begin with?" Bobbin shot him a playful look, but there was a spark in her eyes that Senya couldn't quite identify. "Look, Master, I know I'm critical. I'm critical because I fear for you, and for the Ranch. But what happened there wasn't... wasn't totally your fault."

"Thanks," Senya said, only somewhat sarcastically. In truth, he was curious.

"I think you just may need to do some work," she said, raising a bushy eyebrow at him. Her gaze was knowing, and Senaya tried to keep from squirming beneath it. "You... Senya, tell me truthfully. When the puppy sprites were enjoying you last night... did you ever think of Brigitte? Or Tricin? Or the fleece sprites?"

"What?" Senya felt his face heating up. "No! Of course not!"

She continued to peer at him, not saying a word.

"I mean..." He rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn't, had he? "I don't think so. No. I didn't. Look, when your puppy—er, when a puppy sprite is licking your dick like there's no tomorrow, you're kinda gonna be thinking about her. Not some alraune."

"That's good." She gave a little nod. "Because if you do, it's going to be a problem, amulet or not." Bobbin cleared her throat and turned away. "I've seen Master after Master fall to fetishes, Master. Your great-uncle knew better. That's why we have the puppies—so you are never, ever tempted to masturbate to thoughts of one of the prisoners."

"But..." Senya paused, considering an odd flower to their left. It was a deep crimson, and shaped vaguely like a beehive, or a conical artichoke. Red bees buzzed about it, heedless of them. "But you keep trying to get me to fuck them."

He hadn't meant to say it so crudely. It had just come out.

"Oh, yes." She giggled, putting her arm in the crook of his elbow and leading him past the flower. "Master, I'm not cruel. I would never ask you to totally resist them. Besides, there's a reason the will stipulates you must be attracted to women. It's actually a bit dangerous if you aren't."

"How so?"

Bobbin stopped abruptly. She looked somewhat taken aback. She frowned at him. "Isn't it obvious?"

Senya gave a limp shrug. "I'm getting used to admitting I'm not exactly qualified for this job, Bobbin. Damn it, I'm a carpenter, not a fey rancher. Just... act like I'm an idiot and explain it to me."

She was silent for a moment, before a small smile flickered past her lips. "Fair enough. I do find your frankness refreshing, Master, for what it's worth. Even your uncle never could admit when he was in trouble, not that he often was. Too much pride in your family. It's nice to have a Master willing to sacrifice some control. Makes my job easier."

Once again, that wording sounded a bit double-edged to him.

"Let me tell you a story, Master." She snapped her fingers. "Please, have a seat."

"But there's no—" Senya found himself sitting down in a comfy plush chair. He looked back—it had just appeared underneath him. Its back legs were improbably long, just long enough to keep the chair level on the hill. He blinked.

"Once upon a time," Bobbin whispered, her voice a breathy drone, "back when the gods still reigned and the grass grew just a little bit greener, there was a terrible war." She drew her hands apart, gesturing expressively. Senya found his eyes drawn to the movements, but they were so swift, so strange, so hard to follow, that it was difficult to focus. "On one side was an order of cruel knights, agents of the fey gods. On the other, a cluster of kindly villages with one protector: A great hero from the islands named Gebba."

Senya leaned back into his chair and watched her hands spin around. He could almost see, in his mind's eye, the face of this Gebba: A portly, dark-skinned person of unclear gender with short hair, wearing shining silvery mail. "Gebba wielded a net of knives," Bobbin went on, and he could see the net, hundreds of woven silver knives, "and wore the necklace of the turning worm." Senya stared ahead as Gebba drew from their collar a necklace bearing an enormous amber eye.

Senya shifted slightly in his seat, a bit impressed with his own imagination. It was almost dreamlike, in truth. He felt so very tired right now. His eyelids droop, but did not close. It felt important to keep listening, to keep watching.

"The knights fought Gebba on three turns. On the first, they sent their mightiest warriors to claim a village. These were the mightiest in the land, and every one was as tall as a mountain." Senya stared ahead blearily. He could see these giants marching forth. He felt so tired, so pliant, he felt like he'd see whatever she told him to see right now. She was a gifted storyteller.

"But Gebba was skilled, trained in the arts of the sword undying. A great battle followed. They bested each one of those knights, staining the fields red with blood and black with shadow, for they had the power with their net to catch the very shadows from the dead and wield them as weapons."

A terrible battle played out before Senya's eyes, and he saw the giants fall, one by one. Gebba would dart forward, using the net to snatch the giants' shadows like fish in water. Then, Gebba would grab the shadows from the net and reshape them like soft clay, forming weapons, staircases, doorways and chasms. The giants fell. One by one. It was mesmerizing to watch in its repetition. One by one.

"Gebba proceeded onwards, to stop the knights once and for all. The knights were panicked, and so they called a legion of tricksters and magicians, paid with bloody silver to work their wicked wiles. Sphinxes and rogues and illusionists alike conspired against the warrior." Senya's head lolled slightly as a big-breasted women moved into view, her lower body that of a great feline. Her breasts jiggled closer and closer, filling his sight. Just as they were close enough to lick, the strange creature melted away into shadows.

"But Gebba was wise and canny themselves. No riddle, no trap, no paradox could perplex them. Snares of rope and fire and steel alike failed to penetrate their mail or beat their net. No ambush would suffice."

Senya's eyelids fluttered. Dimly, a very quiet part of Senya told him that he'd been hypnotized, easier than anything. That he had given in with scarcely a fight. That it was a very, very good thing Bobbi was on his side. But these thoughts quickly drifted away from him, leaving him in a place of soft calm and pliancy. And he listened intently.

"And at last, Gebba stood before the final six knights, the youthful leaders of their order: Three men, and three women. Some will change this story, and say it was all women, because that story sells better. Those storytellers are lying. It was three men and three women, two dark, two pale, and two of colors that humankind no longer wears.

"Gebba fought the six knights, and it was a ferocious battle. The knights brought to bear every trick they had, for they were skilled beyond their years and aided by the powers of the fey gods, but Gebba was relentless. And at least, Gebba stood before the last of the knights that had not lost her weapon, and they leveled their net at her head and demanded her surrender.

"And the knights knew that they were beaten. They knew that Gebba was too strong, too swift, too canny. But there was one trick they had not yet tried. And so the last knight threw down her sword, fell to her knees, and pledged fealty to the great warrior."

And Senya saw it all. He saw the warriors battle, and he saw the last one surrender. His mind felt strangely vacant as he wondered what would happen next.

"Gebba was gracious in their victory, and did not seek blood. They only commanded that their knights renounce their wicked ways and never again lift weapons against anyone. The knights swore that they would do battle no more. But then they offered Gebba something more. They offered a sweeter reward by far."