Monstrous Ranch Ch. 20

In her dreams, Valina was Kitten. And Kitten was being a very, very good girl.

She was immersed in slick vines, lost in tentacles from a vine dryad she had known many years ago. The vines slid over her like tongues, lapping over her breasts. She hung suspended, arms and legs spread out, as a vine slid between her legs and slithered over her pussy.

And she was squealing. She was mewling. She was whimpering and whining and begging and blubbering like a good, horny little slut.

"Such a good kitty!" the dryad cooed in her ear. Kitten tried to turn to face the dryad, but the giggling fey darted back into the shadows. "Good kitty deserves to cum!" the dryad hissed in her other ear.

Valina gave an excited mew.

"Is that a yes?" The vine dryad giggled. "Does my sweet kitty wanna cuuuum?

"Mew!"

She heard the dryad cackling, her sweet tone bordering on sadistic as a hand squeezed the catgirl's ass. "Oh, how I love my pretty kitty. Okay, then, kitty, why don't you—"

The dryad went silent.

At first, Valina didn't realize what had just happened. Then eyes widened. "Mew!" she cried, trying to call out for the dryad. "Mew! Mew mew mew!" The vines kept licking and sliding over her, and she writhed and squirmed desperately, panting and gasping, her whole body horribly hot and sweaty.

Then she heard a new voice in her ear—a man's voice. "Well, well, well," he husked. "So this is where you've been. Little slut."

Her breath caught. She started thrashing, but the vines held her tightly still, and the man only laughed. "We'll have to punish you," he cooed, "little Kitten."

"Mew!" Tears of denial and terror streamed down her cheeks. She heard a ringing at her neck as the collar activated, disciplining her for her resistance. Kitten squealed in glee and torment.

"You know you love it," he purred, as his fingers slipped inside her cunt and he began to toy with her.

And Kitten did.

~~~~

Kitten's eyes shot open. She was red-hot, drenched in sweat, totally naked beneath sticky sheets, and slick with saliva—and, down below, with other sweet-smelling juices.

The catgirl blinked rapidly, warm, tranquil obedience trickling through her mind like a mountain stream. She felt her waking mind dull back into dreaminess.

She was in Master's room. Kitten giggled at that. If only Master was here, he might let Kitten cum. She'd had a lot of fun with the puppies last night. The memory of the tongues washed over her, and she shivered, her pussy leaking slightly.

She had never cum. She hadn't felt so utterly, mentally drained in such a long time.

It felt so nice.

So nice to be nice and empty and slutty and horny.

She was a good Kitten again.

The puppy sprites lay all around her, fast asleep. Kitten blinked, looking over their nubile forms. These naughty puppies had toyed with her all night long. She stuck her tongue out at one snoozing blonde. She had half a mind to return the favor, now that she was awake and they were at her mercy!

"Ahem."

She jumped, turning to face the speaker. Her heart fluttered. Bobbin! Oh, it felt so good to see the lithe, fit hob smirking down at her.

Only... Kitten rubbed her pussy, her mind so unbearably weak and squishy right now. She wasn't supposed to love Bobbi. Bobbin made her love her. She bit her lip, looking up at the tightly-dressed straw boss. Bobbin made her feel so good, Kitten couldn't help but love her.

But wasn't that all that love was?

"H-hi, Bobbi," Kitten said shyly, licking her hand clean of her own juices and fixing her hair slightly with the slick fingers—an old habit she had broken long ago. Apparently it was back now. It just... felt nice. Comforting.

Bobbi seemed to like it, and that made Kitten feel good (but wasn't she not supposed to feel good?). The hob grinned. "Hi, Kitten. Feeling better now?"

"Nn." Kitten glanced back at the puppies, pouting. "They played with me all night!" she whined. "And n-never let Kitten cum!"

She looked up at Bobbi imploringly, hoping for sympathy. But there was none this morning. Bobbin seemed to be in a very good mood. "Silly Kitten." Bobbin reached down and rubbed one of Kitten's ears. Kitten gasped and released a brittle moan. "Kittens only get to cum when their Master is pleased with them, remember?"

"Y-yes, Bobbi," Kitten mewled, leaning into Bobbin's hand and rubbing her head against it to encouraging more rubbing, "b-but—"

"But nothing." Bobbin's hand ran down through Kitten's hair, petting her kindly. "Good Kittens never ask to cum. They only ask to be good Kittens. Remember?"

Kitten remembered. It was so hard to remember—a naughty part of her really, really didn't want to—but she remembered the first time. She remembered the first time Master had given her this nasty, mean old bell.

Master had teased her. Had made her beg to suck his cock. Her mouth watered at the memory. Sucking his cock had felt so good.

But she had only done it to make Master happy.

Oh, she had been so good back then. She whimpered miserably. And now she was always so naughty. She was a bad Kitten. No wonder Bobbin teased her so.

Bobbin seemed to misunderstand her whimpers. "That's right," she purred, gripping Kitten's collar tightly. "I know it's not easy to accept, but a good Kitten only wants to make her Master nice and happy. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Kitten gasped, dreading the ringing of the bell as Bobbin tugged the collar tighter. The fact that she could barely breathe barely entered into her dazed, obedient mind. "Kitten wants to be a good Kitten! But Valina—Valina is naughty, Bobbi!"

"Oh? But we know what to do with naughty Valina, don't we?" Bobbin's voice was sly as silk. Kitten melted beneath that voice. "We fuck her, don't we?"

"B-Bobbi..." Kitten panted, her legs slowly spreading.

Bobbin laughed. "Oh, not me. I have to go check on the scarecrow—I haven't got time. But you..." She caressed Kitten's cheek. Kitten mewled softly. "When Valina is naughty, Kitten, it's your job to reign her in. To fuck her brains out."

Kitten panted, licking her lips eagerly. "Y-yes..."

"To stroke her until she's so stupid and edged and horny she can't tell the difference between you and her."

"Yessss..."

"Stroke her until she's a good Kitten."

"Yes!" Kitten squealed.

Bobbin smiled down at her, taking her hand away. "Well? What are you waiting for, pussyslut?"

Kitten bit her lip, but her hand crept downwards. She had to drop down so she was essentially on her knees and shoulders, her chin jutting into the soft mattress but her fingers caressed her pussy lips and started to stroke.

And instantly, she felt the warm, fuzzy bliss filling her once more.

"Mm. Why don't you count to a hundred, too? Once for every almost-orgasm."

"One!" Kitten immediately squeaked, trembling. Bobbi had no idea how horny she was right now, just from obeying. Sweet, tortuously minimal pleasure tickled through her whole body.

"You can stop once you reach a hundred," Bobbin said smugly.

Kitten bit her lip. Cruel, wicked, wonderful Bobbin. The poor catgirl was already having trouble remembering... oh, fuck... "One!" she squealed.

Bobbin laughed, though Valina wasn't sure why. Maybe because Valina had a dumb, glassy-eyed grin on her face. "You know, Kitten, I've been at a real loss with you lately."

"T-two!" Kitten managed, her brain nearly shorting out as the delicious half-orgasm bounced inside her, making her head spin with longing.

"You've been so naughty... I haven't been able to figure it out. But..." Bobbin sighed. "I get it now."

"Two!" Valina rubbed her upper body against the soft blankets, wiggling her hips against her own fingers, trying desperately to imagine it was Master's cock. Oh... oh... "Um... t-t-two!"

"I can't keep trying to torture you, punish you. That was my own needs taking priority." Valina felt Bobbin stroking her ear again, and whimpered out a number she didn't even quite understand. "I wasn't being fair to you, Kitten. You're such a sexy little sub, I forgot that I had a greater duty than my own gratification. That's something I've been bad about remembering lately. And we both know that hurts the business."

"Three!" Kitten cried. She felt like she was practically glowing with pride at getting this far.

"So no more nasty little punishments. I have a new strategy, Kitten." Bobbin beamed down, dropping to her knees to stare straight into Kitten's wide, glassy eyes. Kitten's breath caught in her throat. "Little pussyslut? I am going to spoil my Kitten rotten."

Kitten stared back into Bobbi's eyes, biting her lip hard. She trembled. "O-one?" she whimpered.

Bobbin laughed. "Oh, Kitten. How I've missed you."

Kitten rolled onto her back, working furiously with both fingers, her mind buzzing with lust. "One!" she chanted.

Bobbin giggled. "Boy. You're gonna be here a while."

"One!" Kitten giggled back, happy that Bobbi was happy with her.

Bobbin stood up straight, giving Kitten's ear one last rub. "I wish I could watch you, but I don't have all day, and I have a feeling this is gonna take at least that long. If anybody calls for your help, stop doing this and go do your job. Otherwise, I want you to keep doing this until you're a nice, brainless little pussyslut again. Or... ha... until you manage a hundred."

Bobbi's tone made Kitten shake and quiver with unspeakable delight. "T-two," she panted, then, with a supreme effort, "t-three!"

Her heart soared. Three! Three. Three. Gotta remember... remember... three... nn, fuck... three...

"Hey, Kitten," Bobbi asked, pausing in the doorway to grin back at her. "How many sluts does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"

Kitten's breath caught. Her mind stumbled and tripped in a puddle of her own juices. She wriggled and moaned. Her eyelids fluttered. Her head buzzed pleasantly. When she managed to speak, it was amid little moans as she approached yet another half-climax. "Um... um... one?"

Then she bit her lip, realizing she'd just lost count! Darn it! But the wave of pleasure at knowing how good she was being by fucking her own brains out... "One!" she bubbled. "One!"

Bobbin was laughing as she left the room.

Kitten was giggling, too.

And so was Valina.

Because even amid all this lust and submissiveness, Valina had a sense of deep excitement.

When the honey hit the fan, it wouldn't matter what Kitten was doing. The pieces were already in motion.

"Two," she whispered softly, grinning ear to ear.

Then she heard a low moan from above her.

"Does... does Kitty need us?" whispered the soft, breathy voice of the blonde puppy sprite.

Kitten's eyes widened. Uh-oh. Uh.... oh...

"One?" she whimpered, just before the licking began once more.

~~~~

Bobbin made her way with a swing in her narrow hips to her own room, grinning to herself as she heard the whimpers and whines from upstairs move up an octave. She'd only ordered the puppies to sleep for fifteen minutes. She really did want to spoil her Kitten today.

Her own room was a fairly minimalist affair—hobs didn't need much. There was a small, soft bed, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf holding a grand total of two books of prison records (only two books—Bobbin had an excellent memory for what came after her arrival, after all).

Her sweet, submissive Master lay in the bed, moaning to himself. It didn't take Bobbin long to recognize that Senya was in the throes of a wet dream.

She licked her lips. "Poor thing," she murmured, sidling over to the bed and sitting down beside him.

Delicately, she pulled the blankets up, watching his fluttering eyelids, his pouty lips softly whimpering. His tongue kept wetting his lips. Was he dreaming about drinking something?

She sighed. "Oh, Senya. It really wasn't a fair expectation that you wouldn't... linger on a few of them."

His cock, exposed to the air, was dribbling slightly. She eyed it. He hadn't had his daily prisoner fruit yet, and so it was only average-sized, but there was something intoxicating about her Master's cock in particular. It looked so... vulnerable, the way it slowly oozed precum, the way it twitched and pulsed.

This sensitive instrument that had brought her so much joy last night also brought him joy. So, so much joy.

This supposed instrument of power turned him into a submissive, whimpering mess.

She smirked down at it. Of course, she usually tried not to take advantage—poor Master had enough worries without being seduced by his subordinates—but who could fault her the occasional indulgence?

Her hand hovered over his cock. Oh, how delicious it would be to tease him now. To stroke him. Maybe even to lick him. Maybe, she reasoned, trying to convince herself, she could whisper in his ear, turn his dream away from the livestock that would happily exploit such half-remembered subliminal experiences to turn him into putty in their claws. Turn the dream to herself. So she could happily exploit those half-remembered subliminal experiences.

She licked her lips. Her hand descended, ready to start a delicate stroking on that twitching, dribbling instrument of submission...

"Hey, Bobbin!" She jerked her hand away, heart slamming into her chest, as Jerrod came strolling in. The broad-shouldered stockman grinned, shaking his head. "Well, I was gonna ask if he was up..."

Bobbin glanced at Senya's face. His eyes were fluttering open, and he looked first at her, then at Jerrod. He looked down numbly at his erect cock and bit his lip.

Bobbin smiled and handed him a plump prisoner fruit. "Good morning, Master."

"Morning, Bobbin," he mumbled, tearing into the delicious fruit. Bobbin watched the juice dribble down his chin as he sat up, and suppressed a giggle. It was clear to her now that Master had an exceptionally addictive personality. Problematic, but there were practical applications.

Bobbin was getting quite good good at finding practical applications for her Master's problematic faults.

"Is it morning already?" Senya asked, leaning up against the wall and throwing off the blankets. His slight but muscular body was on full display, naked and vulnerable. Bobbin half-wanted to say 'no'.

"It is, Master," she said happily. "And it's time to wake up."

Still groggy from his interrupted fantasies, Senya wobbled to his feet. Bobbin supported him, clutching his side to keep him from falling back over. Wakefulness was returning to his red-rimmed eyes. Oh, the poor thing. He really hadn't slept much, had he? "Okay... okay. So what's... on the agenda for today? Market Day's over." He rubbed his eyes. "I thought I was... huh. Last night, we were—"

"Market Day is over," Bobbin agreed, "but today is a special day on its own. The fleece sprites are ready to be sheared."

Senya's hand lowered from his eyes. He blinked at her.

Jerrod grinned, holding up several blue silk sacks and a pair of magicked snips. "Time to have another heart-to-heart with Angora, Boss."

"Oh." Senya's eyelids fluttered. "Okay."

Bobbin nudged him towards Jerrod, and the stockman put an arm over Senya's shoulder as he led him to the dining room. "First let's get some bitterbrew in you, boss! No sense going to the fleece sprites tired—that's like heading to an arachne girl's forest wearing a tie."

"Okay..."

Bobbin put her hands on her hips, grinning after the couple.

Then she turned to the window, and with a small spring to her heel, sprang right at the glass. The window flew open, and she landed tidily on her feet on the other side in a feat of acrobatics that would put a catgirl to shame.

Stretching, the hob made her way off into the distance.

It was time to check on the scarecrow.

~~~~

"So, um..." Senya sucked on his knuckle, gnawing it slightly. He wasn't sure where he'd picked up this new nervous habit, but his knuckle was raw at this point. His head was buzzing pleasantly from the northern beverage, but at least he was awake. "So what are we going to do, exactly? Because Bobbin told me not even your amulet will keep them from... making us tired."

"Naw." Jerrod chuckled. "Their wool's not mind control. Not traditionally, anyways. Fetches a pretty penny, though."

"So what..."

"The snipping's a simple process." Jerrod snapped together the strange pair of clippers, which rather resembled a pair of straight razors woven together with silver wires. "They ain't as fluffy as actual sheep, so we don't need to worry as much about cuttin' them. Which is good, 'cause, uh... well, that's a gray area."

"Gray area?" They exited the house. Senya was struck by how bright it was outside—gods, was it afternoon already? Senya knew he was losing time, but had he really slept in so late? He'd never exactly been an industrious sort, but as a carpenter, he at least had the self-discipline to get up before twelve every morning.

Carpenter. That word rang oddly in Senya's head.

He frowned to himself. Carpenter.

When was the last time he'd... done anything in carpentry? The art of woodworking seemed so distant now. Like a memory from a dream. A lot of things had started to feel hat way. He chewed his knuckle, lips sucking absently...

"Uh... yeah." Jerrod turned back to Senya, and Senya realized he'd stopped in his tracks. Jerrod clearly mistook the pause for unease with the phrasing. "It's all in the rules of this place, which the Will's gotta follow. You ain't supposed to, like, harm any of the prisoners."

Senya blinked, his confusion dropping away, replaced by... a new confusion. "The rules of this place? Are they separate from the Will?"

Jerrod blanched. He coughed loudly. "Well, I mean, the Ranch... wasn't always owned by your family, y'know."

"It wasn't?" This fact sounded familiar. It also sounded strange to Senya. Had Bobbin ever said this? Had she hinted at it, maybe? "Who owned it before?"

"Beats me." Jerrod shrugged, in the manner of a man who didn't know and didn't care. "Some sorta trade put control over it in your family's hands. I mean, you know your family ain't from here, right?" He cracked a half-grin. "Bobbin doesn't like to talk about it much. The Will annoys her a hell of a lot, but at least it's something she has some control over. However they ran things back then... well, I know a lot of the rules are a real pain in the ass for her. Anyways, the rules say you can't hurt the prisoners, but as I understand, it's vague on what 'hurting' means."

"So..." Senya bit his lip. "So, what happens to Va—the catgirl..."

Jerrod laughed. "Guess it doesn't count, since we're all still in control of things here. Well, mostly. But you kill one of these prisoners, or cut them, and who knows?"

Senya gave a small nod, sucking at a fingertip thoughtfully. After a moment, he spoke again. "You say a lot of the rules are a pain to follow. What are they? So I can avoid breaking them, I mean."

"Eh..." The stockman grimaced. "It's stuff she wants to teach you about later. Most of it's obvious shit, I'd imagine, like 'don't let the livestock leave the area'. Even that gets cheated sometimes, too—a couple of the fey, like Coryl, have been able to leave once or twice."

"But some of it annoys Bobbin."

"Well, sure. Some of it gets in the way of running the Ranch. Like, for instance—" Jerrod broke off as they rounded the corner and arrived, once more, at the pens. "Well, here we are."

Senya blinked.

Almost instinctively, his eyelids drooped a little.

The four fleece sprites lay languidly around the grassy pen. Two lay atop one another next to the fence and were lazily licking each other's breasts and bellies. Another lay on her back with her legs spread, eyes half-closed, slowly stroking between her legs as her thick, dark lashes fluttered. And the lovely Angora was curled up by the gate, enjoying the warm sunshine as the sun peeked just over the farmhouse the pen was built against.