The Pasture in Space - Revolution

She let out a loud moan. Despite the secretions, for a second the spell broke as Antonella repeated the same action at her ass. Her anus clamped down on the intruders, her asshole trying to expel the thing already inserted. For a brief moment, she panicked, not certain how her body would be able to accommodate such an expansion inside her already used body.

"It's too much! It's too much!." Violet yelled.

Then the intense excitement changed her demeanor. The twin cocks inside of her twirled around, rotating inside while they moved in and out. She let out a loud gasp, understanding now exactly what could be accomplished by such a humanly impossible act. She let out a moan, then a cry of ecstasy.

But Antonella stopped for a second, unsure of what to do. Violet's ability to communicate was limited compared to Gwendolyn, but still it sensed some distress. The creature began to withdraw, sliding back its appendages...

Violet roared her desire.

"No! Don't stop! I don't care! Fuck me!"

Delighted, the creature continued. Four tendrils now filled either side of Violet, stretching her open, taking her to the very edge of what her body could possibly contain. Though it was ridiculous, for a second Violet imagined that someone looking down might be able to see a protrusion of the bulging dicks inside of her as they slithered up, down, and around inside her. More of the arms held her in place, providing the leverage needed to keep a pace that embedded and flowed with the reaction of Violet's openings.

There were moments when Antonella went at a pace that could never be matched by any man. Other times, it sensed the straining of its subject, and slowed to a near halt, letting the excitement build up through a denial. Overwhelmed, Violet could barely think, let alone move as the complete exploitation of her body continued blissfully.

Knowing what to expect, Gwendolyn guided the action a little more. She held her lover closer, kissing, caressing, speaking reassurance as they both were impaled by four cocks a piece.

"You look.." Gwendolyn stammered as she felt the impact on her ass. "So beautiful."

Violet could only moan her assent.

Inspired by a tentacles in between Violet's breasts, Gwendolyn reached down, placing a hand on each. She pushed the orbs together, allowing the penis to harden further. It slid up and down the sizable cleavage of the large chested woman, using the slippery, semen-lubricated skin in between like another orifice.

With Gwendolyn's help, Antontella titty-fucked Violet, giving the younger woman the perfect angle to watch as the bulbous head sprayed semen up her neck and onto her face. Still sliding up and down, it spasmed, the cum spread up hitting Violet at the bottom of the chin and all along her neck and breasts. Gwendolyn bent her head down, slurping up the fresh seed as it poured forth from its purple spout.

Visually stimulated by the scene, Gwendnolyn succumbed to cravings of her sex. The four tentacles caused her pussy to contract and convex. The heat of her orgasm spread through her, causing the familiar, almost paralyzing pleasure to course through every vein. She savored every second of delight, her head buried between Violet's breasts as her arms clung around the back her lover.

She woke from her almost delirious moment of exhalation, using her hands to push herself down to Violet's pussy. As the pair of tentacles drove in and out of her, alternating in these efforts, Gwendolyn brought her head above them, her tongue again moving against Violet's clitoris. She lapped at it delicately, adding to the incredible, intoxicating sexual episode.

One of the tentacles pulled out of Violet, then came brushing up against where Gwendolyn was licking. She opened her mouth, briefing bobbing her head down, sucking and tasting Violet on the cock. She let the thing slither down her throat, then used one hand to insert the tentacle back into Violet. She could see how stretched open Violet was, how close she was to cumming.

So Gwendolyn returned her mouth to the task.

And Violet lost control. Her every sense turned into a simple conduit with one expression, mindless ecstasy. Across every extremity, euphoria spread, casting doubt on every other orgasm. She was stuffed full, her pussy, her ass stretched and full to the brink of what was possible. On her most sensitive tissue, as the pair hung in the air, her lover lapped expertly.

More than just the carnal pleasure, something else was taking hold. In the scant part of her brain somehow not devoting itself to firing every neurotransmitter of joy, she knew she had finally experienced true happiness. This was no stolen moment, no hidden embrace, no fleeting flight of fancy. Love had coupled with an almost spirtiually intense sex, creating something truly special for both of the lovers.

Gwendolyn and Violet, born into the cruelest of conditions, changed their stars, creating together a world that suited them.

Though she couldn't articulate that exact sentiment, there was something more than sensual. They were creating a child together, indirectly, but that didn't matter.

And what else is a child other than a hope for a better world?

Here in this cave, Violet Nall reached a new climax, unparalleled by anything before.

Only to be surpassed again by what immediately followed.

The more alert of the pair, Gwendolyn used her abilities to communicate silently with the parent of her child. The angle switched, and for a moment, Violet bemoaned the lack of attention at the top most part of her sex. But the creature used its tentacles to inverse their position. Violet opened her eyes to see Gwendolyn's pussy, engorged by the phalluses inside.

Nearly simultaneous, the two put lips on lips, eating each other out as the creature continued to push towards its own climax. Violet scrunched herself a little, crunching her abdomen to better angle her clit upwards. Their tongues traced different, pleasing patterns around their clits, teasing, licking, lapping, and tugging at every place above their innermost folds.

It became impossible to distinguish where pleasure radiated from. There was a state of delirium that came from the total immersion into sex. And as they moved against the mouths, the twin cocks in each hole, the intertwined conduits of physical delight combined into one, throbbing, quaking creation of carnal completion.

Lost to the universe, the three beings became almost interdependent as they came to the ultimate conclusion of their coupling. Moans came out in shared exhales of breath, muffled by their trimmed muffs, sending out scintillating sounds of stifled joy. Antonella moved inside of the pair, exploring the ends of each hole, filling the pair, reaching its own limit.

All at once, Antonella began to convulse inside the pair of lovers. Inside of each, the woman could sense the shaking of the sexual orgasms inserted inside each hole. Twitching, twinging, contracting and compounding, the heads reached the point of no return.

The creature managed to direct the flow of the seed first to Violet's pussy, letting loose another torrent of semen. Her pussy reacted to the spasms inside of her sex, squeezing, the lips massauging out the last moment of elation from these twin, twirling rods inside of her. She began vibrating, quaking up, her legs closing around Gwendnolyn's face she moved through the shaking throes of satisfaction.

The cocks shot out of her pussy, propelled out by the infusion of cum. The gushing spray from the unfinished heads struck Gwendolyn, smacking her in the nose, covering Violet's pussy. At the same point, the creature began emptying itself in both of their asses.

This coupled with Violet's orgasm, pushed Gwendolyn's towards her own climax. Full, covered in cum, with the tentacles flooding her asshole with twin sprays, Gwendolyn lost herself to lust, barely managing to keep her mouth on Violet's quivering vagina.

Together, the pair reached a new, unbridled experience of elation. Their hips became conductors of pleasure, alternating back and forth between the delicate touch of their tongues and the hard, frantic finishing strokes of the tentacles inside of them. Cum drenched their bodies, pouring over them. They embraced, their hands pulling on each other's bottom, letting their grip grind out the last few moments of ecstasy.

They continued convulsing, shaking as the embing end of the orgasm approached. The tentacles inside of them withdrew, their bodies still vibrating, allowing the last vestiges of their climax to pour over their cum drenched orifices. Finally, Antonella withdrew from Gwendnolyn's contracting cunt, just in time as the heads of the twin phallus ejacualted a last overwhelming volume on the pair.

From head to toe, barely a spot of skin remained untouched by the creature's cum. Though it had avoided the inside of Gwendolyn's vagina, inside and out of every other hole had been coated with the seed. Their bodies remained gooey, cum dripping down from their faces, their breasts, their backside. Neither could quite open their eyes, the semen covered the entirety of their beings.

Tasting the warm, salty wet spray of seed on each other's sex, Gwendolyn and Violet kept going at each other, their hips intertwining as they gently engaged in a last, intimate moment of sex. Antonella lowered the pair to the ground, letting them finish together. Each alternated in one last muted orgasm that came entirely from their devotion to each other.

On the cave floor, Gwendolyn nestled her head on Violet's breasts, laying not quite comfortably, but in the exact position she needed.

And through the opening in the cave, the two stared up at the stars, theirs for the taking.

Epilogue

"Do we really need a reminder why we are here..."

Violet almost smirked at the re-wording of her familiar speech.

"You are here to make milk!"

She walked up and down the new milk maids, twenty in total, picked regardless of bust or hip size. These women were solely drawn from the most intelligent and empathetic females on Epsilon 7.

With her wide hips, her bounding bust, and her dark purple hair, Violet remained the most imposing figure on the colony.

More so, now that she claimed a more powerful title than Supervisor. Violet was the new Overseer, the first female ever appointed. Not that this was much of a surprise, the demographics of the asteroid had changed to favor the women, who had not been harmed in the slaughter. Some men, those determined to be functionally sterile or with sperm counts unsuited to the task, remained in the fields. But most of the work was now performed by the women of the colony.

A rotation had passed.

So much had changed. With the help of Violet's son, a beautiful purple haired male centaur she'd named Aenan, and Tarran, the hucows had been reclaimed and rehabilitated, with a few exceptions. The fields, free from attack and aided in their production by Antonella, burst forth with a bounty each harvest.

Saved from the constant struggle for survival, the colony looked forward for the first time, beginning preparations to settle another desolate rock.

But there had been time for other things, more rewarding endeavors. They worked yes, but only for eight to ten hours a day, with time to rest. The colonists grew new fruits and vegetables from ancient seeds once deemed useless because of their low caloric yield. They experimented with new types of clothing, designing and decorating their bodies. They told stories, sang songs, they danced, and celebrated.

They fell in love.

At last, there was time enough for that.

But as in the past, they answered without question to their Overseer.

Violet still conducted her oversight of the milk maids personally, continuing to adorn the same sensual outfit deliberately design to accentuate her body.

Only now, she wore the uniform with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

Only now, she spoke in the name of their Queen.

"You were chosen. Not because you are smart. Not because you are sexy, though you will do smart and sexy things. No, you were selected because you can feel. You can relate. The life for these bulls will be long and tedious. Unending sexual stimulation weakens their resistance and continues producing the semen needed for the next generation of colonists."

She opened the door to the only pasture in on the rock, where a hundred men stood, fifty on each side of her. The apparatus used for the hucows had been re-designed, though the twin poles that forced them in place remained the same. The basic concept had been surprisingly pliable. Each man had a repurposed nozzled attached by a suction cup over his cock. Inside his ass another hose was placed, vibrating inside against his prostate glands, keeping him continually on the edge of orgasm.

Violet stopped at one man, her gloved fingers moving up the half exposing shaft of the penis. It was nearly 20 centimeters long, once an imposing thing that might have been used to rape any girl caught outside a chamber at the wrong time. Now, he was helpless, his muscular arms and legs spread into an X. Smiling, Violet could hear the whirring sound of the phallic shaped hose driving back and forth into his ass.

She tugged gently on the tube in his throat.

"From here, he is forced to ingest a phosphodiesterase blocker, along with the natural nutrients he needs. This increases the blood flow, allowing repeated erections. We mix this with a new serum that engorges sertoli cells. But more importantly, it is your task to make sure that all sensation stops at ejaculation. Let me demonstrate."

She made an adjustment on her v-screen at precisely the right moment.

"Now watch -" Violet pointed to the clear suction cup. "Just as he starts his orgasm, the machine stops. The semen is deposited in the bank and he remains hard, ready for another sample. By stopping sensation at this precise moment the prolactin and oxytocin used to relax the mind is never released. I can almost smell the elevated dopamine on him, keeping him in a state of constant arousal."

A new milk maid raised her hand.

"Go ahead," Violet said.

"How long can he continue at this rate?"

"A fair questions - this depends on the man," Violet said. "Forcing him to maintain an erection for more than five hours can begin to cause damage to sensitive tissues and we need to pump these men dry every cycle."

The young woman raised her hand again. Violet looked at her inquisitively. She vividly remembered selecting her. Her hair was a stark reddish-orange, hanging loosely over a synthetic frock. She was petite, her frame much like Gwendnonlyn's, except her chest would have selected her for the original milking practice in another time.

It was hard not to think in those terms now and then.

"Yes, Nova?"

"Why are we doing this? Doesn't this make us as bad as the old Overseers?"

Violet shook her head, trying to repress her rage at the question. She started speaking, the tremors of that anger apparent in her voice. And yet she did her best not to lash out.

"You are young, barely 18 rotations. There is much you do not know. Suffering that your Queen saved you from. Each of these men before you forced countless women into slavery. For generations, they tethered us to machines to suck dry our teats. They plucked the best of us for breeding, letting the most vile create the next generation. Only when we were used up or useless to them, did they take turns raping us before delivering us to be devoured by what they considered a monster."

She took a breath, trying to reign in this rant.

"If you kill me, should our society dither and contemplate the morality of giving you a consequence?"

Nova started to speak, only to have Violet continue over any possible objection or apology.

"I'm not interested in your answer," Violet said. "Instead, consider this. There are only two offspring of an alien species that survive in the entire universe. We owe our freedom to that race. So while your Queen rules this colony, we will do all in our power to analyze chromosomal mutation needed to produce a new generation of humans who share her divine gift. To do this, I will need batch after batch of semen. The best samples will inseminate voluntarily women who will give birth to a new generation, children able to continue the Tarran race"

"But-"

"I admire your sensitivities," Violet overrode her. "I simply do not share them. They were luxuries unaffordable in my time. And when the world we envision comes to pass, in another ten or twenty rotations, there will be no need for milking machines. The next generation, male and female, will grow up as equals, safe and secure, protected by their blooded bond. Until then, do as your Queen commands. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Mistress!"

Each voice rang out their assent.

"In the meantime, Elara you have the comm," Violet said. "My wife and child are returning home."

*****

Born suspended around a thousand stars, Gwendolyn never expected to see one.

Now she stared at the nearest viable planetoid, another rotund shape of rock in the Epsilon Asteroid Belt. The lack of an atmosphere prevented her from setting foot on the soil, yet already the process of terraforming the world began. The egg that would hatch into the belly of this world would not require the same levels of oxygen, neither did her hybrid offspring.

But one day they would make it habitable for her.

Due to their size, Gwendolyn often needed to remind herself of their youth. Barely a rotation old, Aenan and Tarran stood at least a meter above her. Still, their telepathic prowess existed only in a fledgling state compared to their grandfather. Their species wasted as little energy as possible developing the body, but the mind needed time.

Not that they didn't already display the maturity and passions of adulthood. As though destined to be together, Aenan and Tarran fell in love nearly instantly. It took some cajoling from their mothers to involve them in the betterment of Epsilon 7, as the two longed to bring their own baby into the world. Another specimen like Antonella would offer an additional safeguard against extinction.

But Gwendolyn worried.

And she would miss them.

"You should name the planet, mother," Tarran said.

The two could talk. In every way above the waist the centaurs were human. While they preferred to speak telepathically, Gwendolyn instructed each until they spoke easily. Even now, knowing it called back to happy memories, both indulged Gwendolyn by vocalizing aloud their thoughts.

"Me? It's your world babies. What do you want to call it?"

Her hand touched the space between her bare breasts. Despite Gwendolyn's efforts, Tarran had never bonded with Violet in the same maternal way. Undoubtedly, this was due to her greater telepathic presence in the pregnancy, rounding out Violet's limitations.

In every way, Aenen was gentler of the pair, a result of not being born onto a battlefield.

"We want you to name it, Mother Gwendnolyn," Aenan said. "So that all the generations after will know the savior of our race."

She smiled.

How much Aenan looked like his mother. Long, luscious violet hair, just a little lighter than his Mom's. Sometimes, looking at him, she believed herself transported back to that cave. The brief, though trying labor. The imagine of Violet clutching her child to her breasts, shocked as it grew almost immediately in her arms.

Gwendolyn had tried to do better with Aenan, overwhelmed with constant guilt about forcing her newborn to fight on her behalf. Both she treated as her own, and the feeling was reciprocated. Always, Gwendolyn put her babies first, very regularly deferring every duty to her wife in order to focus on their family.