A Report from the Futa Farm

The sight of my beautiful wife and our beautiful cow making out with each other gets me fully hard again. Again, I shrug it off. For the length of our shift, Vandy is the focus.

I decide to walk the fine line between dominance and titillation.

"Mmm, Vandy really seems to be enjoying your tongue in her mouth, Farmer Laura," I say. "You're really getting it deep inside of her. It's like a little cock. Is Vandy sucking on it for you? Is your tongue-cock going to make her moan a little?"

The expressions I get from my wife and Vandy are night and day. Laura loves it. Vandy hates it, but not enough to stop the session. She's feeling good from the manual pumping. The massagers and stimulators ensure that her pleasure translates into not just orgasms, but full ejaculations.

"I think Vandy likes getting her udders milked by both of us at once, Farmer Laura," I say. "I think she likes it better than the auto-milker. I think she appreciates just how good we are at milking her."

Laura strokes Vandy's face and breaks the kiss for a moment. She gazes into Vandy's brown eyes. Her blue eyes are relaxed and playful, but also searching.

"Do you like it when we manually milk you, Vandy?" she asks coyly. "Does it feel better that way? Do you like it when we're extra 'hands-on' and take really good care of you?"

"It's fine," Vandy answers.

"Oh, okay, then we'll stop," Laura says casually. She moves to get off Vandy's lap.

Vandy's arms jerk. The restraints react immediately. I jump a little bit. Laura stays stone cold, but she pauses, then turns back towards Vandy. She finds our petulant cow's eyes again. She wins the staredown.

"You do a good job, Farmer Laura," Vandy says. "Can we please kiss a little more?"

Laura raises an eyebrow. "And what else, Vandy?" she presses.

Vandy scowls. Then she sighs. "And will you and Farmer Matt keep milking me for awhile, too?" she asks. "It feels... nice."

Laura smiles. "Because you were honest and polite, yes, Vandy," she replies. "We can keep going for five or ten more minutes."

Each of us gets a full jar from one of Vandy's udders. More and more of her futa-cum disappears down the cock sheath in the meantime. We're doing really well today. I'm a little excited to see the final numbers.

I'm also horny. There's no more denying it. I'm fucking horny. The Department knows what happens to people who ingest lots of futa-cum on a regular basis. It knows that their sex drives increase. That's why futa farmers get to have orgasms on-shift. They don't have to wait for breaks. The job is the job, but the job has perks. It has synergy.

"It's time for Vandy to keep the other half of her promise from earlier," I declare.

Vandy's mood sours considerably. The next farmer dance -- from the living room back to the bedroom -- is a slow, plodding affair. The restraints and collar tighten multiple times. Even in her immature, horny-stupid state, Vandy is cunning enough to impede our work, all while maintaining some amount of plausible deniability.

I admit to the smallest amount of vengeful satisfaction when Vandy is finally locked into her breeding station. She's in the dominant position compared to the breeding hole, yes, but the rectal massager is firmly lodged inside of her, and she's bent over while her two farmers remain unrestrained and upright. With the auto-milker on her udders and the stimulators on her heavy brown balls, she's thoroughly trussed up. It's a relief. It's been a long morning.

My cock is fully erect and throbbing. I approach Vandy's mouth. She stares daggers and refuses to open.

"Vandy!" Laura scolds. "Breaking a promise! That's terrible!"

"I never promised to suck him, Farmer Laura," Vandy says, smugly and defiantly. "I said I'd take his cum."

Laura's mouth closes. I walk over to her, blocking Vandy's view. I keep my voice low.

"She's technically correct," I say. "Teachable moment?"

Laura calms down quickly. She's a professional. "Teachable moment," she agrees.

I turn back to Vandy. "You're right, Vandy," I say. "I shouldn't have assumed. As an apology, I'm going to let you choose how you take my cum."

"Let me fuck it out of you," she answers immediately, "into Laura's mouth. Then she and I can kiss."

I fold my arms. "You get to choose how you take my cum, Vandy," I remind her, "not how it comes out of me."

"Do you want me to feed you Farmer Matt's cum out of my mouth, Vandy?" Laura asks. "Like a momma bird to a baby bird?"

Vandy scowls at the submissive imagery. She racks her horny brain, trying to find a loophole or a superior alternative.

"Yes," she finally says.

"Okay, that's fine," Laura says. "You go ahead and hump if you want. I'll give my husband's big, thick, delicious cock a wonderful blow job."

Laura and I huddle up again.

"How long do you think you can hold out, baby?" she asks me quietly. Her eyes are all concern and sympathy. She knows I haven't cum all morning. Unlike Vandy, she genuinely cares.

"Not long at all," I confess. "It's starting to get really bad."

"Can you wait long enough for me to find your prostate?" she asks.

"Baby," I pant, "I can barely wait long enough for you to start sucking. I'll try, though. I love it when you take control of my ass."

Laura's eyes flash. I know what she likes. She gives me a quick kiss on the lips.

"You're a charmer, Matt," she whispers. "I love you."

I fetch the lube while Laura distracts Vandy. I sit at the very edge of the bed, and Laura kneels down between my legs. Vandy's getting a show, but it's the back of Laura's head and my reactions. She won't see my asshole get penetrated by Laura's skilled fingers.

I doesn't matter much. Vandy starts humping. Being so close to two real people having sex drives her wild.

I know I should be maximizing synergy. I know I should be spurring Vandy's production with more sexual-yet-dominant dirty talk. She's obsessed with cuckolding and cuckqueaning her farmers, so surely I could come up with a way to frame this vanilla sex act between husband and wife as some kind of a power play.

I don't do any of that. My wife's mouth -- and, shortly thereafter, her three lubed fingers, too -- utterly destroy me. I look down at her, and I see her looking back up at me. That probably would have done it by itself. She's so beautiful. She's so giving.

I want to fill her up with so much of my cum that she pisses it, shits it, and milks it out of her udders for a week - my cum, nothing but my cum. For a few moments, I know exactly how Vandy feels for hours and hours every day.

In less than three minutes, I gasp and yelp like a schoolgirl who somehow got jump-scared into an orgasm by an old horror film. I cum almost like a futa. My beautiful wife tickles my brain through my prostate. Her other hand coaxes sperm out of my aching sack. The poor woman has to swallow a little of my cum, because there's just no more room in her mouth. Bless her heart, she keeps a ton of it right there. She makes sure I'm still alive, and then she saunters over to our cow.

Vandy's humping went into overdrive when I came. She enjoyed one more massive, dominant orgasm over her breeding hole before it was finally time to fulfill her promise.

I barely manage to roll over and cue a holoscreen. A few taps and swipes later, Vandy's breeding station proves why it's also worth more than my life. It rotates her entire body, as if on a spit. A support slides out over -- or, now, beneath -- Vandy's head. She's ready to be fed my cum straight from my wife's mouth.

"Open up for Farmer Laura, Vandy," I slur out. I'm still cum-drunk -- the second kind, where you've been drained rather than filled. I'm suddenly exhausted. It's all I can do to stay awake.

Futa-cum, for all its many benefits, doesn't change the fundamental male reaction to a massive ejaculation. I want naps, snacks, and cuddles -- and I'm not really sure in what order or combination.

I also want to watch, though. I literally slap myself awake. I'm a professional.

Vandy gives Laura three different kinds of death stares, but she opens. Laura feeds her the first half of my load from on high. It's more dominant that way. Vandy does her best to make it seem like she's choking it down, rather than savoring its strong coffee flavor.

What were you expecting? My wife loves it. What am I, a selfish idiot?

Laura lowers herself down and finishes the feeding with a sloppy kiss. She caresses Vandy's face, mostly because it's one of the few places not covered by a restraint or a machine. Vandy's muscles strain to reach out for my wife's body. The breeding station's restraints aren't nearly as forgiving as the couch's. She remains trussed. She starts humping again, even while upside down.

"There, now," Laura says. "That was delicious, Vandy, and I know you think so. I know you love taking Farmer Matt's cum in your mouth -- in all of your cute little holes, actually."

Vandy tries to ignore her. She tries to find a dominant fantasy. Even if she can't, she'll definitely send another load into the hole.

I tap the holoscreen again and rotate her upright. Laura comes over and laps my cock clean. Then she fetches me a drink from the fridge -- an actual bottle, not a dildo-feeder -- filled with a perfectly-normal electrolyte solution.

Vandy humps until all of her other muscles are exhausted. Her cock can't stay hard literally forever, but, hour to hour, it's basically indefatigable.

We have one more meal with our cow in the kitchen. This time, we eat light while she horks down more synthetic protein. Laura, especially, eases up. I think you know why.

We do another round in the living room, similar to the last one. Vandy remembers to request porn. It's ridiculous and foul, as always. As revenge, Laura and I make out with each other right in front of her. I manually pump Laura's udders while Laura manually pumps Vandy's. We deposit the milk, and then get ready for our last farmer dance of the day. Our shift will officially end just before it's done.

The warning chime sounds. I go to the bio-print safe and get my second pill. I wash it down with a cup of water. I tap the confirmation on my holoscreen that Laura's going to let her immunity lapse, and that I'll still be fully alert.

Laura and I prepare Vandy for her reward. Laura uses the bathroom quickly, then returns to the bedroom. Her reward awaits as well.

Vandy is upright in the bedroom. She's collared, leashed, and hooked into her half of the second, larger, breeding rig. Her auto-milker is back on, though that's mostly for the support. Her asshole is free from all invaders. I detach the SofTex from her massive futa-cock. Without any stimulation at all -- well, besides the sight of me and my wife -- it extends to its full length, width, and hardness in less than a minute. I swear it has its own heart, for how powerfully it pulses and throbs. I'm man enough to admit that I want it. It's incredible. I know it would make me cum like a bitch -- so hard that I'd pass out. It would fill me up with futa-cum the way I fantasize about filling up my wife.

Indeed, Vandy's dominant futa-cock is about to do just that -- all of that -- to Laura.

My wife is fastened into the other half of the rig. Vandy requested her in classic presenting-bitch position, so her full, shapely ass is lewdly pushed out between two spread legs. Her pussy is completely protected. Her asshole is completely vulnerable. Her udders are hooked up to an auto-milker, and she has plenty of support everywhere. Vandy's not going to go easy on her; this giant piece of equipment is going to prove once again why it, too, is worth more than my life. It hasn't failed us yet.

I push one last time. I maneuver Vandy's mouth to my wife's waiting, willing asshole. Laura is in the futa-haze. She's ready to be butt-bred. She's desperate for it.

"Worship Farmer Laura's asshole, Vandy," I command. "Give it the kiss of ultimate submission."

Vandy doesn't give a single shit what I have to say. She dives into Laura's asshole with her tongue, and Laura moans with submissive pleasure.

This is futanari instinct. They know they need to apply as much futa-saliva as possible to such a tiny breeding hole, to warm it up and make it hyperelastic. They may roar and growl about ruining holes, but they don't actually want to. They want to claim them, forever. They want their stable of mares and dominated males desperate for their futa-cocks and their futa-cum at all times. That's also why they want to make their submissive partners cum.

Futanari were a military project. They were designed to completely subjugate a cell of regular humans through the power of sexual pleasure and addiction. It should go without saying, but they were also designed to make more futanari in the field.

Vandy isn't getting that ultimate reward today. I'm not concerned. Odds are, she'll be lost in a fantasy that my wife's ass is actually her vagina.

I move Vandy away. She snorts and bucks. She's not in a haze, like Laura is; she's practically in a frenzy.

I insert the lubed applicator into Laura. It glides in effortlessly, and it goes deep. I push that extra-special lubricant into her. After three years, we're both actually able to take Vandy's massive futa-cock without it. We don't care. We don't take chances. We look out for each other.

Plus, lube is always good, and this stuff makes your insides feel incredible.

Vandy calms down a little when she sees what I'm doing. She vaguely comprehends that it's preparation. The dirty talk starts. It's as predictable as ever.

"That's right, Mattie," she huffs, "get your own wife ready for my giant cock. I'm gonna breed her, Mattie. She's gonna have my babies - twins, at least. I'm going to ruin her hole so bad they'll just slide right out. You're gonna raise them for me, Mattie. You're gonna raise my brown futa babies like a white cuck bitch."

Laura's moaning like she's going to die if she doesn't get fucked. It's down to me to decide what to do. My shift is over. I'm immune to the haze, but I'd be lying if I said that this entire situation wasn't a huge turn-on.

My choice is to manipulate the breeding rig so that I can butt-fuck Vandy while she butt-fucks my wife, or to play along with the perverted fantasy, and quite possibly coax Vandy into delivering my wife an even bigger load of futa-cum directly into her intestines.

What can I say? I love my wife.

I direct Vandy's half of the rig back towards Laura. I loosen the restraints just enough so that Vandy can feel like she's genuinely claiming her prize.

Vandy eases her cock into Laura's waiting, willing asshole. She's dominant, but gentle. Like I said, it's instinct. She doesn't actually want to ruin anything. She wants Laura to love it.

Laura does.

Vandy's muscles strain to establish a classic dominant pose. She wants her hands on Laura's creamy, shapely ass cheeks. I make it happen. Vandy's predatory gaze is strangely beautiful.

"Fuuuuuuuck" she groans out. Her voice is loud, and just as powerful as the rest of her. I can hear it over Laura's wails of ecstasy, and that's really saying something.

I come over to Vandy. My erection is throbbing. I stroke her back and kiss her arm.

"Oh my god," I say. "She never sounds like that with me. You're so fucking big. You're so fucking hard. My wife's never going to be satisfied by my little white penis ever again."

Vandy loses her mind -- this time, to a frenzy of dominant sexual triumph. She starts fucking Laura for real. Laura's moans and cries are interrupted by the power of each thrust. They almost sound like hiccups as a result.

Then their tenor changes entirely. My wife goes stupid. Her mouth hangs slack. Vandy's massive erection has found its way deep into Laura's resilient intestines. Her bowels have lost all ability to warn of wrongness or danger -- and frankly, those alarm bells are barely functional in either of us anymore. Now, Laura's have lost all notion of 'invasion.' They're entirely focused on Vandy's withdrawls, rather than her thrusts.

With each one, Laura's guts and sphincters send the reward signal, telling her that she's taking the biggest, most important, most life-affirming and life-changing shit in all of human history. Her vagus nerve is stimulated into overdrive. Her spine turns into jelly. She's feeling like Vandy's cock is replacing it, and then literally fucking her brain.

Meanwhile, her medically-enhanced anus and rectum send classic -- though extremely submissive -- signals that she's getting an equally-life-changing fucking. Her enlarged A-spot experiences intense, near-constant pressure, which triggers a genuine, long-lasting anal orgasm. To think, in the old world those were rare and elusive.

Her auto-milkers are still running. The tide of warm, gentle orgasms they grant her are like background music.

In front of her well-protected pussy, a handy, autonomous little sex toy provides additional stimulation to her clit. Her vagina is technically empty; Vandy's pushing her inner wall so much with her girth that it might as well be full.

The only criticism a naive outside observer could possibly levy is that the process doesn't last very long. You could call them a broken clock that's right twice a day. Laura and I are forever changed. Either of us can take a hardcore anal futa fucking for a half hour or more. We'd love to endure it. It would be divine.

Vandy stretches things out as long as she can. She loves cumming, and fantasizing about breeding, but she also just plain loves fucking. This is when I can tell that, during the day, she's vaguely aware that an artificial breeding hole is just that. When she gets inside the real thing, she's different. She proves she has skills. She puts in the work.

After about ten minutes, I sense that Vandy's ready. I decide to give her the full experience. She was a pretty good futa cow for us today.

"Oh my god," I whine. "Why is this turning me on so much? I think I need to cum, Vandy. Watching you breed my wife with your big, brown futa-cock is making me want to jerk off my tiny little white penis."

Vandy fucking loves it.

"Yeah, Mattie," she says. "Squirt. Squirt your weak white cum into your fucking hand when I breed your fucking wife. Cum because I came. Cum because she's fucked stupid. You're my owned couple, now. Fucking owned. Fucking owned."

I do it for her. It's honestly not difficult. I shudder in orgasm, and collect my own cum in my hand.

Vandy roars in triumph. She shoots into my wife. Laura's voice pours out of her throat. She's a dying animal who's already found peace, getting that final surge of endorphins before the end. In a minute or two, she'll be drunk on futa-cum -- and that will pile atop the haze and the multi-pronged mega-orgasms she's been experiencing for almost ten minutes straight.

"What do you want me to do with it?" I ask Vandy.

She knows exactly what I mean.

"Put it in the tube, Mattie," she says.

I, in turn, know exactly what she wants.

I call up the cock sheath and set it to elimination, rather than extraction. I smear my cum into it. I move Vandy away from my wife. Her flaccid cock finally slides all the way out of Laura's obscenely-stretched hole. I lift it up, and maneuver it into the sheath.

Vandy releases a powerful stream of urine, destroying my cum, ensuring it can't breed my wife or anyone else. I let her have the moment. It's good for her health too. It's been hours since she last urinated. I'm off the clock, but I still care about her.

I tend to my wife. First and foremost, I retrieve the prepared electro-stim anal plug and slide it inside of her. I turn it on, then hold it in place until it zaps her asshole closed around it. It's a terrible waste to let a load of futa-cum slide back out.

I leave Laura in her half of the breeding rig while I deal with Vandy. I know it's comfortable, and I know my wife isn't nearly ready to move under her own power. I get Vandy out of her half. I let her kiss me possessively, plowing her tongue into my throat. I slip the SofTex on her cock. I get on my knees and clean her cock with my mouth. She huffs in dominant satisfaction, and lets me.