Monstrous Ranch Ch. 08

His attentions were starting to have an impact on Lala, too, whose whispers were getting dirtier and dirtier. She was pleasuring herself now, even as she petted his hair like a favored pet. "Ohh, yeah," she gasped, "you suck my slutnectar down, l-li'l slut. Y-you're... gonna be fucking us bimbos for a long, l-long time."

Senya could only moan and whimper as he kept drinking, his mind going emptier and emptier. Everything tasted sweet and wonderful. Lata's head was bobbing faster and faster now, her licks smacking against his member. Pleasure was becoming his... everything. Everything was pleasure. Everything was obedience.

Lala clutched his head to her breast, practically smothering him. "You f-fucking horny stud! C-can't believe we caught you so easy. S-such a good b-boy. Yeah, you let her suck your stupid dick until it's doing aaaaall the thinking for you, and then we're gonna fuck those brains out until we're doing the thinking for you. We're—we're gonna be your bimbos, and—ah! Eee!—gonna be your b-bimbos, an' we're g-gonna own you and you're gonna love—love—love—" Her words finally gave way to screams as she came, her lactating breast gushing sweet, sweet honey down his throat.

And that was the tipping point. Senya came too, pleasure flooding through him as he shot his seed straight down Lata's throat. She moaned, as though in pleasure. She swallowed it easily and just kept sucking, just kept bobbing her head, drawing him out once more.

And he kept cumming. The orgasm never stopped. Something about it felt so smooth and sweet—with every ejaculation, it seemed to go on longer, to end slower, like he was just cumming honey. With every burst of pleasure, his mind seemed to get emptier and emptier, slower and slower. Like they were... fucking his brains out.

And it was the best thing he'd ever, ever felt.

He came again and again into Lata's sticky honeyed mouth, drank down gulp after gulp of the delicious honey, and slowly, his mind faded almost completely into sweet, nectared bliss.

~~~~

Jerrod released the hen harpy, chuckling as his ass slid out of her tight, wet pussy. The feathered tart fell facefirst into a pink cushion, a big, dumb smile on her face, auburn hair spilling down like a halo. "Atta girl," he whispered, stroking her little wings. She moaned happily and spread her legs invitingly, but he sighed and shook his head. "Nah, nah. Gotta get to my chores. Maybe later."

"You sure?" bubbled another one of the harpies, this one a petite blonde. She flapped her wings excitedly, perched up on the roost of the 'chicken coop'—a lavish little hut decorated with dozens of soft, colorful cushions and pillows. "You don't wanna fuck? Fuck? Sure you don't? 'Cause, like, wow, I wanna fuck. Do you think there's a word for when one person wants to fuck and the other person doesn't? I bet there isn't. Let's fuck!"

"Man, I hope not," sighed a third, a redhead with particularly large breasts. "If there's a word for it, it means it happens, and, like, wow, that sounds awful. Us bimbos should just, um, always get to fuck!" She was stroking herself openly, legs crossed on the ground, eyes half-closed. "I b-bet there's a word for lots of stuff," she mumbled, "but I bet there's not... ooh..."

Jerrod looked over the five chicken harpies, giving a low whistle as they looked at him expectantly. "I just fucked y'all twice each. I stay any longer, I won't have time to check on the herb garden. You know how the lavender girl gets."

"Ooh! We don't!" the blonde cocked her head, giving him a look of wide-eyed naivete. "What does she get? Does she get, like, super big boobies?"

"Big as mine?" the redhead asked, pushing up her breasts as if for comparison.

"Ooh, maybe!"

"You do know I'm wearing the amulet, right?" He smirked. "You can't dumb me down with this constant clucking."

They paid him no heed, of course. Typical hen harpies.

He sighed, picked up the basket, and exited the coop. Only one egg today—not too bad, considering they hadn't checked in a couple days. Hen harpies didn't lay often. He wasn't even sure how they laid, truth be told, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

As the brawny stockman was making his way towards the herb patch, though, he noticed a scarecrow running towards him. Seven, it looked like.

He grinned. Seven was one of the horniest of them, from what he'd seen these last couple of weeks, and he could see her jiggling from here. Eager for an 'encounter'? Well, he could always make time for the scarecrows. Hen harpies were as willing and eager as anything, but the scarecrows were inventive.

As she drew closer, though, he guessed that this wasn't for play. Seven looked worried. "Stockman!" she gasped. "Bobbin needs you!"

His smile returned. "Oh, yeah?" Hell, when didn't she need him? Bobbin played hard-to-get, but—

"One of the Thriae is missing," Seven said, her voice tight with urgency. "Bobbin can't find Sylvia anywhere!"

Jerrod's brow furrowed. "Shit. We don't want those ladies unaccounted for, right? I mean... they could be doing anything right now, if the programming got worn out enough, right? So she wants me to help her find the girl?"

"No." Seven shook her head. "There's more. Master is alone with the two others!"

Jerrod chewed his upper lip, mind racing. "Alone. With Lata and Lala?"

He took off racing for the hill.

~~~~

Sylvia let out a sharp cry, muffled by the gag. She stared down between her legs, deep into deep green eyes, lost in lust. Darkness crowded in all around beneath the bush they'd descended into.

"Feels nice?" purred her lover. "You like being tied up? You like my tongue? You like being nice and quiet for this little game we're playing?" The eyes glimmered, filling Sylvia with thoughts of pure desire.

"Mm-hmm!" she managed, squirming in her bindings.

"Good girl. What a good girl!"

And her captor's tongue returned to her clit, teasing, flicking, rough and delightful.

Sylvia could barely contain her screams as the rough, catlike tongue went to work on her.

TO BE CONTINUED...