Save a Cow, Milk an Orc Pt. 02

The wagon creaked and heaved dramatically. Its shuddering and rocking sent Priscilla crashing into one of its walls every few moments. Sometimes, the jolt made her cry out in pain as her already aching body collided with wood. Whatever drug they'd given her was still causing drowsiness and her brain felt like spikes were being driven into it. She needed every little granule of determination she had to keep herself from vomiting.

Priscilla didn't know how long she'd been out and she couldn't tell how long she'd been awake. The wagon was moving, but the ability to accurately guess how fast they were travelling was not one that belonged to her. Without her sight and her movement heavily restricted, she felt horribly disoriented and defenseless.

She wriggled, only to again be slammed against a wall as the cart went over what felt like a particularly large obstruction. And then, mercifully, it stopped.

"What we have here?" A deep, throaty voice asked, just loud enough for her to catch.

A response came from a slightly different direction.

The first voice reached her again, but it was much quieter. She strained her ears, but she couldn't make out what it said. Her stomach tensed with nerves.

With a rumbling lurch, the wagon began moving once more, but they were clearly on a groomed path now. Priscilla heard the screech and then keen of metal on metal, hinges perhaps. After that, the ride was finally smooth enough to use her core muscles to sit up and lean against a wall. It took everything in her to breathe deeply and try to sit in a way that didn't hurt her vagina. Everything hurt.

Unsurprisingly, the smoother ground was a drastically shorter experience than that of the broken road. When the cart stopped moving, the sounds of a heavy door thudding open and metallic boots stomping up a wooden ramp reached her ears. From immediately above her, a person with a voice both commanding and cocky said:

"A fine catch, Driver. It already looks as though its breasts were enhanced. You think they're natural?"

"Felt natural to me," the Driver laughed. "Great handholds."

The second person snarled. "Your beastly 'hands' better not have damaged my property."

"N-no Sir. Of course not."

Priscilla tried to twist her wrists apart, but instead she simply irritated her already raw skin. Undaunted, she let it show by attempting a growl through the drool-soaked gag and hood. Dragons had died by her hand. So too had beasts so dangerous they did not speak the same tongue as her captors on principle. No longer would she sit quietly and let these assholes discuss her like a piece of meat. But what escaped from beneath all the fabric was a pathetically muffled noise.

"Here is your gold." The sound of metal falling loosely in a sack. Priscilla's chest tightened at the non-reaction of her captors. Her feeling of being de-personified. "Ensure the innkeeper receives their share. I will hear if they don't and you will be a dead scaley." Her new captor,the 'Sir' said in a voice leaking poisoned caramel.

"Yes Sir." The Driver answered. "L-let me--"

"I do not need your help." Pure distaste. A grip as strong as any orc warrior's curled under her knees and then she was assumedly over the man's shoulder. The sudden upside-down motion stirred nausea in her stomach.

The change of air pressure on her skin as he started walking tipped her off to him taking her indoors. Perhaps she even had a vague sense of their direction and when he changed it, but she couldn't remember those details clearly moments after experiencing them. The aftereffects of the drug on her brain meant easily escaping on her own was likely out of the picture. Priscilla needed allies.

The man dumped her unceremoniously onto a hard surface. "For your health and safety, I'm going to give you a shot." She felt a prick in the top of her left arm.

Before he removed her hood or her gag, he methodically untied her restraints, only to strap each limb down to below the cold, flat platform beneath her. This was as good a chance as any, but it seemed as soon as she tried to snatch her hand away, whatever was in the needle already made her arms feel so heavy she could barely lift them. However much she felt like stone, he manipulated her body with ease.

He pulled the hood from her face and she gawked around the gag. A massive minotaur was staring back at her, with a smirk on his face and delight shining in his dark eyes. Although most of his body was that of a giant bull, his forearms resembled a brown, furry orc's more than a bovine's. She tried to growl, but her ability to speak was again heavily altered by the drug he'd injected.

Priscilla tried not to appear graceful when he removed the gag from her mouth and instead placed a glass of cool water to her lips. Some of it missed and he traced the wet trail from the corner of her mouth, down her neck, curving along her chest and around one of her breasts before falling off past the side of her ribs. He squeezed most of her breast in his hand and then slid his grip out until he was lightly pinching her nipple. He let go and then gently rubbed it until it peaked under his touch. Another smirk as she glowered at him.

"You wouldn't be the first warrior priestess of your kind I have broken, you will not be even remotely the last. Although it is easier to train a bitch from a less demanding occupation." The massive man in front of her explained in a tone that said what had already happened to her was nothing more traumatic than a routine shopping trip. He toyed with her other breast and peaked its nipple. At the same time, she noticed a fire smoldering to the side with long iron poles sticking out of it. "I can't wait to see how big these become, once you start bearing mine and my clients calves."

Her eyes widened, but still, she could do nothing useful.

He checked the straps, then inspected all of her body the current restraints allowed. "You have many scars. Clearly, you were once a great warrior." There was a long moment where he went about the inspection. She noted a brightly coloured piece of plastic, a needle, and a metal ring resting on a smaller table adjacent to her hip. While she continued to try and get clues about where she was and how to get out of there, he added with amusement: "I appreciate my new dragongun."

When she didn't react, he untied and rolled her onto her stomach. A sob bubbled up and wedged in her throat and she choked instead as she was refastened to the table. Her muscles otherwise remained slack and useless. The minotaur caressed her shoulders, spine, and massaged her butt cheeks with his large, calloused hands. Her chin was stuck under her and discomfort shot in waves through her jaw and neck. She grunted, hoping beyond hope he would finally listen to her.

"Ah, sorry my new little heifer." He adjusted her neck and she shifted her entire body slightly. All she could really see was the table, an empty space to her left, and his pelvis to her right, but she heard his frown. He tapped a cloven hoof on the stone floor a moment before relaxing when she did not move again.

After rubbing her butt again, the minotaur washed it with lukewarm water and soap. He rinsed and dried her skin before he applied a cooling gel. It smelled of mint and felt like aloe. In the silence of him preparing her, the fire roared and the wood within crackled. His hooves clopped against the stone as he moved away from her.

She couldn't tell by sound or smell what he was doing. And then he said: "Welcome to my herd, my little heifer."

The delicious smell and sound of sizzling meat hit her nose at the same time as the pressure against her left butt cheek. And then the agonising, searing agony slammed into her nervous system and she let loose a near silent bellow. Her muscles spasmed against her restraints, despite the strong relaxer given to them. Tears rolled down her cheeks and pooled onto the unforgiving metallic table just beneath her face. Slowly, he pulled the branding iron away from her charred skin and she heard it set against something. More cool, minty gel was spread on the wound.

Before her pained gasps had stopped, he ran a massive hand down her exposed ass and up to the base of her dick. "We'll take care of this for you eventually, but for now..." And he plunged three of his gel-coated fingers into her.

Her mind whirled. The combination of the pain and drugs had her stunned. Had she not been restrained, she probably wouldn't have fought him when he straddled her on the top of the medical table. She could feel his minotaur-sized cock resting between her ass cheeks, perilously close to where the brand still smouldered. He continued to use his fingers to stretch her the way one might to bread dough and not another person. There was no pretense that his actions were for her; he was readying his beast for breeding.

She moved her lips and pitiful sounds fell out. While her pleas were too formless to carry her exact meaning, he chuckled. "So much for a warrior priestess." He lifted her hips, pressed the head of his cock to her mint-tingling lips, and sheathed his full length inside her. The pain of his dick pressing against the wall of her cervix was nearly matched by the way she'd been stretched all at once around his girth.

He waited for her cries to lessen and then pulled her off his dick. A sob tumbled out of her numbed mouth along with the drool and snot and tears she had no control over. The minotaur bent and pressed his fuzzy jaw against her ear. "You took it once, you'll handle it again." And he slammed his entire cock so hard the slapping of his balls between them echoed in the room.

As he continued to pound her he did not remove himself completely, but his steady crashing against the gates of her womb laced her body with the most intimate agony. All the while his unimaginable girth grinding up against the internal structures of her dick filled her with intense pleasure. Her vision started whiteout as he kept up his maddeningly slow but destructively powerful rhythm.

Her captor grunted, suddenly breathless. "Good heifer," he panted. "Such a good. Heifer. Take my seed. Give me calves.. Fuck. Your milk is. Gonna taste. So good."

His disgusting comments, and his maddening, maddening, maddening girth, and her body started to tremble as she succumbed to her orgasm. She'd already been tight for him, and when her canal uncontrollably contracted, she unintentionally milked his balls dry. He told her so as he lay on top of her, his cock twitching and throbbing as he gathered himself.

Still immobile, Priscilla laid beneath him with her eyes closed. Shame echoed through her with each heartbeat. How was she going to get out of this mess? Her eyes had run dry by the time he pulled out of her and got off the table. She heard the rustling of fabric and thought he must have been fixing his pants, in stark contrast to her nakedness.

"Now that you have been branded and proved, my little heifer, it is time to show you the enclosure you will spend the rest of your life in." He explained while untying her from the bed and retying her limbs together. Her head fell limply against his back when he tossed her over his shoulder once more.