Save a Cow, Milk an Orc Pt. 04

Feedings were the only evidence of the passage of time Priscilla had and these were frequent and blended into the endless cycle of milking and fucking. And many of these activities happened simultaneously. Priscilla felt abandoned by her higher power, the Vulture of Blood, who was somehow okay with this fate for her and had yet to intervene. She spent much of her existence asleep and dreaming or awake and dreaming, until the bench pressing into her guts became noticeably more uncomfortable and her milkings yielded actual creamy fluids.

I'm pregnant, she thought. And terror filtered in through the haze of her drugged food.

Weight pressed her into the bench and she whimpered in discomfort as a farmhand took her without warning, as always. As the farmhand took their pleasure from her, the one milking her from the front chuckled triumphantly.

"I think this one's ready for pasture."

After a few grunts, she felt their seed gush into her. The bench creaked as they stood and she heard them fix their pants. The minotaur clip-clopped to inspect her from the front and the one milking her stopped and stood, showing off the creamy liquid to both her and his companion.

"Look at what you made, sweet girl." He cooed.

The other one lifted her head by her hair and her eyes fluttered closed from the pain. She didn't want to look at them anyway. Nausea roiled in her stomach. The minotaur let go and her head collided limply with the bench with a smarting slap.

"You're right. I'll tell Grigur." They stomped off.

The remaining farmhand knelt back and continued milking her. His rough hands squeezing her swollen, sore tits made heat rise in her cunt even as pain radiated out from her nipples. Milk poured into the pail in thin streams. Once his strong grip failed to produce further liquid, he set the bucket aside and lifted a pitcher of slop to the tube opening resting just outside her lips. She gagged as the first of the gunk hit her stomach and he stopped pouring to wait her out. Once she stilled, he emptied the remainder of the pitcher into her tube.

"Enjoy the quiet while you can, girl." He ruffled her hair. She groaned in response as the feeding tube prevented her from forming words.

After the farmhand left her to her misery, Priscilla drifted into her thoughts. It was the only way to escape the reality of being bound to a bench for what had to be weeks if not months. She pictured the wide plains and steep mountains she'd trekked and the fierce dragons and mad snow wolves she'd fought. Her mind returned over and over to the lusty barmaids she'd taken to bed and the warm food she could taste and chew on.

All too soon the sound of hooves on the stone floor brought Priscilla back to her body. The new farmhand bent by her front and began unstrapping her from the bench. Her unused muscles ached as she shifted her arms and then her legs, but the tube in her throat dissuaded her from moving further.

"Alright, girl, brace yourself." The farmhand said not unkindly as he gripped her head between his knees.

She gagged several times as he slowly, carefully, dislodged the tube and removed it from her throat. As he stepped away, she allowed herself to slip from the bench onto the floor. She savoured the feel of the cool stone against her skin even as another gag raised her body heat and her sick spread across the floor.

"Up you get now," he continued with a tug on her matted and clumped hair.

With a groan, Priscilla managed to push herself to her knees but after so long strapped to the bench, the muscles in her arms and legs had melted away. Her vision swam as her heart struggled to keep up with the sudden and drastic positional changes. She slumped against the wall, despite the man's grip on a clump of her loosened braid. Her eyelids fluttered and she was sick once more.

"Pregnancy isn't treating you well, is it? Poor cow. The pasture'll be gentler on you. Come."

Priscilla half crawled and was half dragged by her hair from the breeding room and into a hall. At first the light was only from torches, but the passage soon became impossibly bright as sun streamed through open windows. Fresh air nearly stank in contrast to the filth she'd been living in and a new vigour entered her body as he led her closer to the barn doors standing ajar at the end.

The pasture was positively verdant compared to the squalor of her previous quarters. Tufts of grass stretched toward the sunny sky surrounded on all sides by tall stone walls. Most other details remained obscured by the brightness of the day. As soon as both her hands and her knees touched the grass, Priscilla sank down in the warmth to catch her breath and rest her belly against the soft earth. The farmhand guiding her released her hair and she heard him head back inside.

When she decided to raise her head and sit up, she noted nearly a dozen other naked orcs and minotaur-orc hybrids in various stages of pregnancy. Pacing the small courtyard was a large taurorc with the biggest piece Priscilla had ever seen swinging between his legs as he went. She made a note to avoid him as she moved away from the barn doors and slunk against the stone wall for some relative privacy.

While she reposed against the cool stone in the warm sun, the rest of the captives went back to whatever they were doing before she was brought in. One cow massaged reddened, swollen tits while resting against another woman who combed through the first's hair with her fingers. Across the pasture a taurorc with braided, shiny black hair was bathing under a waterfall-style shower built into the wall. The grass of the pasture was particularly green in that area, but it seemed the most popular place and so Priscilla chose to stay where she was.

In-between the water feature and a large, stone trough set beneath an open window was a rock feature with long, smooth panels. A younger adult orc with hair a similar shade of dark moss green as Priscilla's was napping on the top most rock, baking in the midday sun. Her stomach looked as painfully round as her tits looked painfully large, but from Priscilla's vantage point neither seemed to disturb her rest. As Priscilla continued to observe, the taurorc from the water feature rung out her braid and carefully climbed onto one of the lower rock ledges.

Just as the taurorc woman found a comfortable position for her swollen stomach, back, and head, Priscilla watched the patrolling taurorc bull approach her. The cuddling women across from Priscilla stopped grooming and stiffened, both joining her to watch the scene unfold. Priscilla's stomach clenched, but her shrunken dick twitched from the anticipation filling the pasture.

Shaking her head and rubbing her stomach, the cow moved back from the edge of the rocks. Not taking no for an answer, the bull lunged up against the rocks, grabbed her ankles, and pulled her to the edge. Perhaps knowing what was to come would be worse if she struggled, the woman stilled and allowed him to turn her over. The female taurorc seemed weightless in his grip as she was flipped and pulled back against his dick.

Despite the sheer enormity of the bull's cock, he fully sheathed it in her cunt, eliciting a cry mixed with pain and pleasure from her. Priscilla looked on as the bull pounded into and pulled out of the moaning cow, forcing her to white-knuckle the edge of the rocks. She threw her head back, cumming while squirting around the male's impressive girth. Priscilla watched the female's orgasmic fluids trailing through his fur as he elicited even more from her near-prone body.

He didn't stop. His grunts and snorts echoed through the pasture as he jackhammered the taurorc's pussy. Her quiet grunts were swallowed up by the slapping of his balls against her skin. Priscilla grimaced at the sounds. With a roar and final jerk, the taurorc bull spilled his seed into his cow and held her hips tight against him as if to ensure a pregnancy. As if the female taurorc wasn't already visibly pregnant. As if they all weren't.

After he was sure his seed took, the bull released the captive woman's hips and rested on top of her. When he finished his repose, the male taurorc stood and resumed his pacing of the yard. The female crawled back to where she was resting and the remaining herd members returned to their own activities. Priscilla shuddered at the normalcy of it all and feared the bull would turn his attention to her soon.

Priscilla must have dozed off in the warm sunlight because the next thing she became aware of was the rest of the herd shifting and a small commotion near the trough. Her legs were still too weak to support her properly, but she got to her knees and witnessed feeding time. A minotaur was dumping slop into the feeding trough through the open window. When they finished with one bucket, they promptly set up another and drained its contents too. After this occurred three times, the minotaur said: "Enjoy ladies." And then they were gone from Priscilla's view of the window.

The cows, both the orcs and the taurorc hybrids, congregated around the trough, but only three could eat at a time. A clear hierarchy was built into the herd and any of the younger cows vying to get to the food before their time were jostled back by the older women.

Priscilla crawled closer as her stomach growled, but the prospect of lowering her head or her hands to the slop in the trough made her think of the simplicity of the feeding tube. She had to pause every few feet of crawling to rest her disused limbs so when she reached the trough it was free for her to look in. The slop could've been liquidy oatmeal mash or it could've been too wet mashed potatoes. It didn't have a distinguishing odour, colour, or texture except mush. Wincing, she reached in and scooped some slop to her lips and gagged through the entire process of swallowing. She did this until her eyes were watering and her nose was dripping and the effects of the food finally outweighed her hunger.

As she moved away from the trough, she noticed the cows had not returned to their original spots after eating, but were all standing somewhat close to the paddock doors the farmhand brought her through earlier. Distracted by the scene, she flinched away as the male taurorc stepped past her to reach the trough. Before he could choose eating or fucking, Priscilla decided she better meld into the herd as best she could.

The paddock doors swung open and several workers with milk buckets strode confidently into the pasture. Most of them were male minotaurs, but the group was hardly homogenous in race or sex. Priscilla backed away with her head bowed low; her breasts still ached from her morning milking. As she freed herself from the herd, the first few women moaned softly as calloused hands caressed their tits and milk sprayed into the metal pails.

Shuddering at the sight, Priscilla pushed herself into the position between kneeling and standing. Although her muscles burned with the effort she was certain she could stand and perhaps even make it to the far wall. After that, she'd decide what to do next.

Hands grabbed her hips as a shadow fell over her. She managed a cry of fear before she was forced back onto the hardened length of the taurorc. He left one hand digging into her hip while latching the other onto her braid before wrapping it around his wrist. As he yanked her head backwards she faced the grinning farmhands who all stopped milking their charges to watch her true introduction to the herd.

One farmhand laughed: "New girl's getting claimed already."

"You can tell the drugs in the slop work," another said. "She looks terrified but you can see her cunt glistening from here."

"I just milked her this morning, too, but look. There's a bit leaking out. I think this is my new favourite heifer." The first smirked.

Near her ear the taurorc growled: "Mine."

She moaned as his girth filled her to the max. Pleasure built in her core even as her neck ached from the strain of his hold. He almost pulled out before slamming against her cervix. With each thrust he yanked her waist back to meet his pace and her tits bounced heavily with the force. The male continued his torturously slow pace all while his heavy breaths came out in grunts and snorts. Her vision doubled as the pain from the start of her womb and the pleasure from his length rubbing against the rest of her pussy combined to enhance the best parts of each.

The first orgasm snuck up on her. She lost sight of the onlookers as stars burst behind her eyes and she cried out in time to his pounding. Spurred on by the tightening of her spasming cunt, the taurorc slammed her face into the ground. Unable to close her mouth, she couldn't breathe as dirt, grass, and insects crowded her tongue and nostrils. The hand that had been wrapped up in her braid now shoved her head against the ground as his thrusts became wild and uncontrolled.

His teeth closed around her shoulder and his fist gripped the ground next to her skull as she finally inhaled sharply. She was staring through half-seeing eyes at the way her own hands clenched and unclenched in the grass as if they belonged to someone else. Another orgasm ripped through her unbidden as the pain caused by the teeth clenched in her upper back brought her pleasure to higher levels still. Priscilla bucked her hips over and over, losing herself to his untamed rhythm as he smashed their bodies together.

Heat unspooled deep in her cunt as he drove them together a final time. She felt his stream of cum and she moaned, arching back against him, her final orgasm hungrily squeezing every bit out of his. The taurorc bull sank on top of her and licked lazily at the teeth marks he'd left near the base of her neck. He kept his dick deep inside her and his weight held her in place. Her pussy trembled around him and her eyelids fluttered. Somehow, she wanted more. She wanted him to replace the child in her womb with his own.

The taurorc shifted and bit down on her other shoulder. "Mine." After a gasp and struggle of pain she fell still against his muscled frame. His sheer power was oppressive, but after her long confinement her battered mind let go and her body relaxed into his crushing body.

Just before he rammed her into the earth once more, she caught an image in her mind's eye of her first calf, which might join the herd as others clearly had. The image shifted to herself, milked every morning, fucked every afternoon, and fed with slop from a stone tray. She willed her mind to again drift away and it did--as soon as the bull's newly hardened cock connected with her aching cervix once more.