Mars Needs Milkers!

She covered the distance between them before the woman could react, the strength augmentation circuits in her suit allowing her to move quickly despite the heavy gravity. She grabbed the woman around the throat with one ungloved hand, shoved her backward against the wall of the barn, and lifted her up until her feet were off the floor. The woman struggled, though to no effect, her short arms no match for Ri'yah's significantly longer ones, her bare feet kicking uselessly in the air.

Ri'yah stifled an angry cry. Was she going to have to kill this woman, too? How many people were going to have to die tonight? The human woman continued struggling, obviously frightened, the nipples of her large breasts protruding through the thin cloth covering them, liquid seeping through the material.

The humans still lactate! Ri'yah realized, her gaze riveted on the expanding circles forming on the woman's nightdress. She found herself salivating at the sight of the woman's milk, her over-oxygenated blood pounding in her ears. She knew what she wanted to do, even though her rational mind worked overtime trying to dissuade her: the woman's milk might taste every bit as bad as the cow's had, it could even be poisonous. There were a million reasons not to do it, least of all that her training absolutely forbid it, but after the deaths of Chuvan and the crew of the Jhoun'xhe, and the possible thousands of remaining Martians whose lives still hung in the balance, Ri'yah found that she honestly didn't give a fuck. With a snarl, she ripped the flimsy material from the human cow's torso and planted her mouth on its wobbling tit and sucked for all she was worth.

Rich warmth filled her mouth—overfilled it!—sweet tasting liquid coursing down her throat, milk running from both sides of her mouth. It was precisely the opposite of the milk she had drunk earlier, heavy and satisfying, better even than the milk she had grown up drinking as a child before the plague. Ri'yah continued suckling at the tasty teat, her pressure-suited body pressing the woman against the wall of the barn while she drank her fill and then some.

She paused her drinking after several minutes, the human cow still struggling though not so much as before—was it enjoying this? she wondered. She leaned her head against the slightly softened udder, panting with the excitement of discovery, but also due to the exertion necessary in keeping the human cow from escaping. She reached down and grabbed the portable tester from her belt and held the opening at the top to the cow's still dripping teat. White liquid formed at the tip of the slick nipple and dripped into the funnel, followed by several more shining drops. She paused, one hand still wrapped around the cow's throat, while the tester ran through its subroutines. She waited, her own breasts heaving within the confines of her suit, her mouth sticky with sweet cream, hoping against hope that the red light would glow. It did.

"Yes!" she cried out in English, amused by the confused expression on the cow's face. Seeing a rag hanging from a nearby hook, she grabbed it and stuck it in the cow's mouth, then lowered it to the ground, one hand still clamped to its throat.

"This is a great day, Earthcow," she said to it, their noses almost touching. "I am Ri'yah. I will be taking you to your new home, where you will have the honor of feeding my people."

The cow tried to scream, but the gag reduced its cries to inhuman grunts. Ri'yah threw the cow to the ground and, grabbing the rope she had seen earlier, sat on its belly while she tied its wrists and ankles, then secured them to one another with a simple overhand knot. The rope was a little difficult to work with, being twisted from plant fibers rather than spun from glass, but it was good enough for trussing up livestock. Now to find some means of transporting it back to the ship.

Ri'yah left the cow to squirm on its back with its bound arms and legs in the air, while she walked over to a crude wooden table that stood against the near wall. She looked over the many odd implements arrayed there, quite a few of them she recognized as being useful in practically any culture.

She knew that she was exceeding her orders, disregarding them in point of fact, but it was also fact that the human cow's milk was vastly superior to the bovine's. Surely her superiors would come to see that.

Some might argue that humans were essentially sentient, she considered, but they were still a lower life form when compared to Martians, little different than their four-legged counterparts when you stopped to think about it. And being smaller, the human cows would be easier to manage and take fewer resources to house and feed. Her superiors would certainly appreciate that aspect. True, with their smaller udders, they would certainly produce less, but there were millions of human cows, free range and ripe for the taking. And who knew what methods Martian biologists might come up with to increase their output. Martians were masters when it came to adapting.

Yes, we certainly are good at adapting, she thought, grinning as she picked up a hook from the table. It already had a short length of rope attached to it.

"Do not be afraid, earthcow," said Ri'yah, getting down on one knee beside the still struggling milker. "I will not harm you, nor will any of my people. We will take very good care of you. You will be the first of many." She put a hand on a jiggling udder and tugged the swollen teat. Fresh milk arced into the air. This cow was certainly a prize milker, and she would be honored for bringing it back with her. Her crew would have to take turns milking the cow on the trip home, to ensure that its milk didn't dry up, but that would be no hardship. It might even be fun.

Smiling, images of parades and medal ceremonies coursing through her mind, Ri'yah slid the hook between the cow's trussed limbs, then pivoted where she knelt and heaved, the rope cutting slightly into her shoulder as she stood up. Her suit strained with the effort of supporting the struggling cow's weight along with her own, but it was only a short walk to the ship. She would manage just fine.

Bent over slightly, her captive in tow, Ri'yah exited the barn and trudged across the dimly lit yard in the direction of the ship. Yes, she would manage just fine, and so would her people. Mars needed milkers and the Earth would provide. This cow, and the millions more that would follow, would sustain them while they rebuilt their society to its former glory and forever after. Thanks to the discovery of earthcows, Mars would regain its place in the universe.

That was long term thinking, though. Right now she just wanted to return to her ship, order a course for home, then enjoy the finest milkshake that any Martian had seen in the last three thousand years. Life was good.

The child stood on wobbly legs inside her crib. She had only recently mastered this skill, tiny fingers gripping the railing to help keep her steady. She watched through the bedroom window as the lady in the strange jammies carried her mama out of the barn.

She had been awakened by a noise. Noises sometimes woke her in the night, soft noises coming from the bed next to her crib. Usually it was just Mama feeding Papa like Mama fed her, though Mama only ever fed Papa at night. Papa would suck the milk from Mama's tits, which was what Papa called them, though he sometimes called them udders. That was a funny word. Mama sometimes sucked milk from Papa, but he didn't have udders.

The noise that had awakened her was very loud, so loud that she didn't cry. Neither Mama nor Papa had been in bed when she woke up, so she had gotten up to look. She saw Mama enter the barn, but heard nothing else until the lady in the strange jammies walked out carrying her.

Why is Mama not walking? she wondered. Is she sleeping? Her mama sometimes carried her when she was asleep. Was the lady in the strange jammies her Mama's mama? No, she had seen her Mama's mama. What was her name? Nana, yes, that was right.

She raised a hand from the railing, the fingers of her other hand gripping the crib even tighter to compensate, and waved at her retreating mama. "Ma..." she said, reaching out, trying to get her attention. This sometimes worked, though Mama had never been this far away from her before. Mama must have heard her though, because she turned her head in her direction. Now she was shaking her head. Why was she shaking her head? She only did that when she was being mean. And what was that in her mouth?

Now her mama began to wriggle, the way she did whenever she didn't want to be held. She was crying now, her udders swinging side to side the more she wiggled. "Ma..." she said again, louder this time, but her mama just shook her head again and again, her udders wobbling even more violently with each step the strange lady took. She watched, her small eyes narrowed, until her mama and the lady were swallowed by the darkness.

The little girl began to cry, waving her hand again and again where her mama had been. She lost her footing then, her diapered bottom landing softly upon the mattress with a muffled thump. She continued crying, mostly out of confusion. Why had the lady in the strange jammies carried her mama away? She hoped the lady would bring her mama back soon.

She was hungry.