tagFetishDairy Queen of the Breeders

Dairy Queen of the Breeders


The Earl of Crawford, known as Hunter, was so wealthy that he idled his time away in leisurely pursuits. His huge, dominating castle cast a black shadow over the vast, rolling fields of northern Scotland, where his serfs worked from dawn till dusk tilling the fields. He ruled as far as the eye could see, and owned every living thing within his borders.

Due to a special edict from the King, Hunter had the statutory right to copulate with any maiden residing on his lands. This was irrespective of her age or innocence, for verily, all was the property of the Earl so long as it crossed his borders. Each spring, he would send out his specially trained warrior women, the Valkyries, to handpick the ten most innocent and fairest girls from the surrounding villages. Within the castle they were housed in breeding harems, where they were forced to fulfill the Earl's base fetishistic desires. These young prisoners provided not just his erotic pleasure, but were his primary source of nourishment.

The latest group of young things were herded by the lead Valkyrie, Aeva, into the central breeding harem. There they were stripped naked and ordered to stand at ease in a single row. The Earl entered and began to inspect them, the cries and whimpering of the girls ringing out amidst their nervous fright, but they received no sympathy from Aeva, who cursed and shouted for silence. The Earl, Hunter, stood dressed in black leather, tall and handsome with long black hair and a freshly shaved face; with a brandished riding crop in hand, he was a formidable figure. He grinned as he eyed the naked virgins and nodded at Aeva with approval.

Hunter's gloved hands fondled the breasts of each girl, feeling the weight and shape. One of the criteria for a girl to be chosen, besides her alluring beauty, was ample or huge udders for the purpose of producing copious quantities of milk. This was because the Earl supped on two pints of milk per day; this was not bovine milk, but rather that which was milked from the engorged bosoms of his selected girls. Strangely, there was one girl whose breasts were not as large as the others. The Earl frowned a little when he compared them. Her saving grace, however, was an outstanding beauty, unsurpassed by any he had ever seen. Her snow-white skin and swan-like neck perfectly complemented her square shoulders, upon which long, golden blonde hair cascaded down to the small of her back. Her eyes were a hypnotic, iridescent blue, and she exuded a subtle pheromone which overpowered Hunter, immediately arousing not only his bestial instincts, but his heart as well.

Hunter gulped, mentally slapping himself to regain his domineering composure. "What is your name girl?" he asked confidently.

"My name is Valeria Chastity, the Heiress to Wessex," She replied defiantly.

Hunter wolfishly grinned as he eyes leered and heart-rate quickened. "Heiress? What is this insolence?" He growled. "I shall not tolerate any of this Pagan nonsense! There is only one person in this land with a title," he shouted "THE EARL OF CRAWFORD! You are not an Heiress, you are my BREEDING SLUT, nothing more, nothing less! Do you understand, my pretty thing?" He whispered. She stood mute. "Let this be a lesson to all of you!" he barked to the other girls, and with that nodded toward Aeva, who proceeded to grab Valeria by the wrist and march her toward a sturdy, oaken St. Andrews Cross. She was manacled there in a spread-eagled fashion, totally vulnerable and totally exposed, her nude body quivering in the soft draft that swept in from above.

Hunter stood in front of Valeria and grabbed her hips; Aeva pulled down his pants to reveal a throbbing erection. He pressed the tip of his cock to her lips and rubbed it up and down, teasing her, making her beg for it with her eyes. She was putty in his hands, her emotions, her body a slave to his organ; she was his, and in that moment, looking into her eyes, drinking in her scent, he was hers. He didn't know why he did what he did, and the action would taunt him in his dreams for many nights thereafter, but rather at the moment he sunk his meaty rod into her velvet depths, he leaned forward and kissed her with a passion and intensity which was unsurprisingly reciprocated. Valeria moaned and fell under the spell of her lord, the Earl of Crawford, Hunter, and together they locked lips and genitalia, becoming as one amidst the gasps of all around them. As he began to thrust gently, then with growing forcefulness, the Earl's lips remained locked with that of Valeria's, their tongues dancing as their organs gripped one another, pulsing and thrusting in an orgy of hedonistic bliss. Together, they were like dynamite, their every senses enhanced and devoted to the enjoyment of sex.

Valeria moaned in wanton pleasure, her body unable to comprehend what was being done to it, her virginity washing away in a torrent of kinky, bondage sex. The restraints, the objectification, being used so easily by such a tall and handsome lord, she was experiencing everything she had ever dreamed of, everything her title had denied her in the past. After half an hour of rutting and thrusting, both the bodies of master and slave drenched in sweat, glistening down their brows, Hunter exploded with such force that Valeria felt the sperm rushing into her womb, splashing against her wall at great pressure. Her orgasm then came so large and so loud, spreading all over her body like a thousand waves, her mind blanking out and her body fainting from the intensity. Then, Hunter pulled out, his slick cock coated in the love-juices of Valeria, and watched proudly as his fertile sperm dripped out of her...drip, drip, drip...

Thus began the life of Valeria Chasity, former Heiress to Wessex, now the Dairy Queen of the Breeders, special concubine and love to the Earl of Crawford. In her heart, and in his, they were very pleased with this change of title.

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