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Click here(This chapter is primarily for plot purposes and can be skipped if you're just here for the milking porn.)
1
Farmer Hayes tried and tried to knock up Callie, but to no avail. He flooded her womb with cum daily, but she was never fruitful, coming up barren each time. Pregnancy sticks with false results filled the trash in her private bathroom, and every negative response sent her into a frenzy of tears.
Eventually, she caught whispers from the other hucows that a new girl was to be brought to the farm. She refused to believe it, had to see it with her own eyes to know it was true and not a rumor.
She waits until 5:00 and sits in a bush by the window to Farmer Hayes' bedroom. She knows she'd be punished if she was caught, but even that would be some form of attention which she'd been neglected of as of late.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," she hears through the window. "Can I have you tonight?" She can't hear another word because she's running as fast as she can far, far away until she reaches the barn. She bursts into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. Farmer Hayes had played her like a fiddle, making her feel special when she was just another notch under his belt, a failed conquest...
"It's not your fault, you know."
Callie jumps, turning around to see a heavy-set redhead with the girl who she'd seen tickled her first day flanking her.
"We all think he's sterile. He's tried to impregnate every one of us, and when it doesn't work, he just moves on to the next one."
"Who the fuck are you?" Callie blurts, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I'm Lola and this is Emily."
"Hey," she says, and it dawns on Callie that the angry glare she received that day wasn't aimed at her, but Farmer Hayes.
"We need your help," says Lola. She takes out a dark blue pipe with a teal tip from the pocket of her overalls, peeling a bandaid off its bowl to reveal a lump of marijuana. "It's about time a woman runs this farm... We want to know if you're with us, against us, or want to watch from the sidelines when shit starts going down."
Emily steps forward with a lighter and sets the pot ablaze.
"When what goes down? What's the shit?"
"You'll see... So? What's the verdict?"
"I'm in," says Callie decisively. She hardly knows these women, but for now, in her cold, friendless world, they're the closest thing she has to family and she wants to be by their side. "Let's take that bastard down."
2
"There's another of us who you should meet. Emily, where's Zuri?"
"Saving Callie's shit, probably," she says with a roll of her baby blues.
Callie's eyes widen in alarm. "Wait, what?"
"You know the suite you've been staying in? It's only for the newest girl. The rest of us live in small stables."
"But that'll change soon," quickly adds Lola, likely seeing the horror written on Callie's face. "I plan on adding an extension to the house."
"I need to go see," says Callie, and when she breaks into a run, she notices the other two girls chasing behind her. When they arrive outside her door, the name tag has already changed to "Amelia".
A crackling sound erupts. Then, "I'm outside the room by the oak tree. They threw her stuff out the window."
Lola unclips a walkie-talkie from her belt. "Did you save anything?" she asks.
There's crackling for a few seconds, like the woman is trying to figure out what to say. "I tried to catch an um, urn and it exploded all over me."
"That's my Nana," says Callie, feeling pale in the face. Nausea rises up in her belly.
That was her one token of home and now it was all over a girl she didn't even know.
"You'd think he'd have more class by now," gripes Lola into her handheld device.
Another crackle. Then, "Josh will be Josh."
The three girls head outside and sure enough, there's an African American woman in a red dress. She has curly black hair and a helpless look in her eyes, like its her fault Farmer Hayes is an asshole. On the ground and on her clothes is ashy gray.
"I feel like I'm going to throw up," groans Callie. She stumbles over to the tree and bends over, dry heaving as one of the girls rubs her back. When the tears and the nauseous feeling dissipates, she looks up to see the woman, Zuri, holding a picture frame of Callie's mother's mother. She was a hucow, too, and Callie had a strong relationship with her until her descent into madness and slow passing.
"I managed to catch this."
"Thanks," says Callie, taking the photo and holding it close to her large chest.
Zuri extends her hand which Callie takes in her left, and she gets a sad smile. "I don't think we've met formally... I'm Mrs. Hayes."