“ You love your life here on the farm"the female part spoke calmly and rhythmically.

"You live for the touch of your animal trainer. Your Mistress."

"You will obey her, always. You will stick to the orders of every stable Mistress."

"The auditory sensation of my voice is making you toilsome. Your seed crestless wave. Your consistency is ablaze with desire. You want desperately to touch yourself, but you will not. That tool is no longer yours. It belongs to the farm. Only your handler and Mistress can grant you relief."

"Obedience will make for joy. Disobedience will be punished."

Lord George Gordon Byron opened his middle. The night time conditioning messages continued playing in his spike, despite the sun shining through his room 's undivided window. He sat up, the cow Alexander Bell attached to his collar rattling as he righted himself. Byron pulled the ear buds away and set them in one of the humble cubbies located at the foreland of his bed. He turned off the audio recording player and listened to the birds chirping just outside his window.

It was another day on the farm. Why was he still here ? Why did he agree to ... all this ? He eyed the brainwashing device and wondered, ever so briefly, if he 'd gone mad. This was a cycles/second he went through to the highest degree mornings, until the feel in his private parts provided a swift reminder.

Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale looked down at his bloated nutsack and engorged penis. They were twice the sizing they 'd been before coming to this place. Maybe adult. His torso hummed with lust and Byron bit his lip.

'No no no .... Please !'

His left hired man moved to his shaft, in nastiness of himself.

* crackling *

A warning pulsed through his brain, bringing a sharp cinch of pain as he took clutches of his weighty unit. He jerked it up and down in desperate need, but the pleasurable sense impression he expected never came. All it did was make the longing worse.

* CRACKLE crackle china *

"Ahhhhhhh ! ! !"

Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale released himself. His chest rose and fell with flying breaths. The young man 's erect extremity pulsed with high temperature and lustfulness ; his scrotum ponderous beneath it. His plump nut churned away, somehow making room for ever more semen despite their already silly size and density.

It was n't fair. Nothing about this was. And yet, in a half time of day 's time, he would be in heaven. The day-after-day milkings made everything worth it. He would suffer any indignity. Do whatever they commanded. He just wanted to palpate that exquisite pleasure again.

He looked around the sparse dorm elbow room. Four paries, a bathroom, a few furnishings and a television set. It was as round-eyed as abode got. And yet, this was illusion compared to some of the fitting he 'd seen on the grounds. Some of the men, the ace who 'd been here a hanker time, literally lived out in the stables. They were alike animal. Perhaps they 'd become animal. A new variety of animal-human loanblend. A milk stud.

Would he end up keep as a barnyard beast ? It seemed likely. Unless he missed his guess, the dorm rooms were for new military recruit. A taste of normality while the newbie Milk River slattern were broken in. He hoped he could stay here a while yet. He was n't prepare to dwell in muck and hay. At least, not on a habitue basis.

Byron scanned his defenseless body up and down as he waited for schoolmistress to arrive. He 'd only been there for a few month, but so a good deal had changed. He 'd been a college freshman not long ago. He discovered Mega Milkers while looking for a summertime job. It was an opportunity to gain some money before his sophomore year.

It sounded like the best pot in the cosmos. pass a summer on the farm. Get to hang out with passably girls. Byron 's tutorship would be paid upon completing his service. No more college debt. The only precondition ? Submitting to the farm and the womanhood who ran it. That included kinky exploits and taking whatever supplements they demanded.

He was put off by the pills and injections at low gear, but he could n't debate with the results. His body, once thin and boyish, was filling out rapidly. Byron had core on his bones for the first of all time in his life. His shoulder, limb, chest and torso had definition. His ramification were the most significant improvement of all ; calves and thigh sculpted from muscle.

Was it the drugs they gave him ? The grueling chores ? Or all the preposterous pony biz they made him play in work out thraldom ? It was the combining of the three, most likely. How else could he have undergone such a massive physical transformation in such a short time ?

Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale rose from the bed and walked to the tall, full length paries mirror not far from the door. He inspected his beefy body in the reflection. That was the truly gonzo thing. They 'd changed him in so many direction and yet ... he approved. Other than the strange'# 17'cattle tag permanently clipped in his ear, Byron liked what he saw.

He felt desired. Sought after. Prized. It did n't issue that it was his seed they truly wanted. He did n't care that he 'd become an aim to be toyed with on this sinister fetish farm. Lord George Gordon Byron enjoyed it and, more to the point, the orgasm ! They were like nada he 'd ever experienced before. The explosive pleasure delivered by the hired man of a skilled static Mistress made a mockery of any pitiable climax he 'd achieved before coming to this place.

He wanted cipher else but to know it. Again and again and again.

* rap whang knock *

The taps arrived on the door like a harbinger of erotic bliss. The portal opened and in walked his gorgeous handler ; a night skinned beauty he knew only by the gens Jessie. She was clad in Black person caoutchouc employment kicking, light blue stew pants, a low-necked egg white top that exposed her mid-riff and one of the farm 's signature tweed baseball crownwork. Her thick, moody hairsbreadth trailed down her principal, including a partial jigger stern that emerged from the back of her hat.

Jessie carried a tenacious leather tercet with a metal fastener at its end along with a med kit. Inside was a syringe with his everyday injectant along with the oral medication he was administrated twice a day.

Her gaze drank in Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale and a fiendish grin curled her backtalk. The youthful man turned toward the door and tucked his arms behind him, standing at attention. His stiff pecker pointed directly at the sultry milk maid. A deep red entered his boldness as he blushed sheepishly.

"Oh ! You 're up already ? perfect tense. I see you 're ready for your morning milking !"

* * * * *

"MMMMMPPPHHHH ! ! ! ! MMMMMPPGGHHHHHHPPPPHHHHLLLMMMM ! ! ! !"

"That 's it ! Keep it coming 17 ! safe boy !"

Byron groaned through the ball gag lodged in his mouthpiece. His hands yanked on the thick leather cuffs securing his arms behind his rachis. The back were attached to a inflexible distance of chain that ran to the stall bulwark. He stood on the roofing tile floor, not far from the drainage hole at its shopping centre as Jessie stroked him back and forth.

Cum erupted from his bloated glans in yummy waving. Small webs of heart splattered the horse barn schoolma'am on occasion, but almost of the thick nut ran down into the receptacle just in forepart of the bound bitch boy. The metal milk bucket was already half full ; a production of his first off forced climax ten moment ago and the one he was currently enduring.

Jessie 's skillful handjob was n't the exclusively thing driving him wild with pleasure. The combination butt jade and vibrating toy buzzed away in his ass, stimulating Byron 's prostate gland and dialing his full-body walking on air to maximum. The fat anal retentive invader led to a cow-print leather tail end that hung from his plugged anus. It completed the young man 's image as a milk stud. Its vibration mise en scene could be adjusted by remote at any time.

Jessie rolled her left hired man around the rear of his fountainhead lubed ball. She applied a series of lotions and ointment to his genitalia in between each circle of milking. Lord George Gordon Byron did n't know if it was medicated or if its natural property as a lubricant were what made him feel incredible. He only knew it made his milking session much more intense.

She kneaded his addict gently with squashy, lotion-slathered finger's breadth and stroked his fat length up and down in farsighted, lewd strokes.

"GGGHHHHMMMMMMPPPHHHH ! ! ! MMMMMMMPPPPHHHH ! ! ! !"

Byron 's body shuddered and another long, fat ribbon of creamy gook blasted from his tip. This one hit Jessie 's cleavage drained sum, covering her exposed breasts. A low cartoon strip of creamy nut managed to fly up and beautify her mouth and chin.

The sultry stable Mistress did n't overleap a heartbeat, continuing to jack him as her knife extended to clean herself and have a mouthful. She lapped up the dollop of cum happily, then leaned forward so the overabundance filth could slide from her dresser into the waiting cream catcher.

"Be thrifty 17 ! My boob are fair plot and I can subscribe to it on the chin, but if you get any of your filth in my hair, I will bewilder YOUR ASS !"

She gave his cock and balls a house squeeze play, causing him to grunt as she emphasized her final dustup. Jessie then resumed her slick stroking with a throaty chuckle.

to a greater extent spirt of thick custard oozed from his bulging cockhead as the sinful hellcat drained him dry. Byron perspired as his body convulsed. It was all he could do to stay upright as his organic structure shook in joy and to a greater extent clingy library paste shooting from his cock into the cylindrical cauldron of spooge.

"There we go !"Jessie announced happily as she released his expend nethers."Two thirds full ! Just one Thomas More bout and you 'll be done for the morning."

She rose from her milking judiciary and pulled off her gloves with two snap fastener of wet latex. Jessie deposited them in a nearby waste can before turning back to the gagged and still-recovering Byron. With a flick of the remote control, she brought the buzzing toy in his ass to a stop.

"Be back in a jiff, slut ! I 'm going to freshen up a bit. Do n't pink over that can, or we 'll birth to start all over ! You know the rules."

Jessie patted him on the cheek before striding off. Byron was left alone with his thoughts for a fourth dimension. He breathed deeply through his nose as his body descended from the mad high of chemically and physically enhanced orgasm.

He looked up and down the row of tiled milking stalls. There were just a few former Guy being milked at the mo, but the break of day rush would arrive before long. Pretty soon the facility would be loud with muffle groan and haughty laughs.

Byron could n't help but wonder where all these tin of man butter were going. He 'd heard a rumor from one of the other studhorse that their milkings were commissioned by a nearby convent of fetish nuns. His colleague cum slave claimed to have seen one of the Sisters in pitch-black latex visit and audit the facility. The unscathed report seemed rather unbelievable to Byron, but given the realism he found himself living, it did n't feel inconceivable either.

He wondered what would be on the agenda today when the milking was done. construction fencing ? Pulling plough ? Naked ? In latex ? In good leather horse cavalry tack ? Sometimes the handlers would single out one milk stud and make up him the unicorn of the day. That man would be dressed as a pink or purple crib and be given especially harsh discourse. Normally this was reserved as a punishment, but sometimes one of the stable Mistresses just felt like inflicting it on their charge.

Two fresh snaps of latex announced that kept woman Jessie was back. Byron turned to see her pulling on fresh baseball mitt as she prepared for beat three. Was his break over already ? Lord George Gordon Byron looked down at his half heavy tool and bloated formal. It did n't feel like he had another torrent of cum in him at the instant, but he knew Jessie would coax it out of him before long.

It would be uncomfortable at get-go, especially after two rounds of milking in a row. The third one was always punishing at the outset, but eventually it would feel tremendous. The net orgasm was always the most intense.

"Now, to get you primed ..."

Jessie lifted the remote and turned the setting up to eight out of ten. The toy in Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale 's ass buzzed back to life, this sentence much more aggressively. Earlier, it had only been at a four.

"MMMPPPPPHHHHGGGMMMMM ! ! !"

His chain rattled as Byron jolted in the stalling. He almost fell down, which would 've knocked over the cum receptacle in the process, but he managed to becalm himself and avoid disaster.

* SPLURT *

Jessie pressed down on the lubricator dispenser, ejecting a cumulation of Mega milk cow patented aphrodisiac cream into her exit medal. She rubbed her gloved hands together, spreading the thick sludge all over her fingerbreadth before sitting back down on the milking stool.

"Alright, 17. One more time !"

She took handgrip of his warm, viscous equipment and went to shape, slathering the buttery means all over his turncock and scrotum. Her paw slid over his bod and Great Commoner 's Hammond organ responded immediately. His penis grew in her lenify grip, stiffening rapidly as his formal relaxed in the viewing of her rubber-base paint massage.

"That 's right. Byron the bitch boy ! Get severe for schoolmistress again ! Let 's attain this a big one !"

* * * * *

The gentle hum of chirping crickets serenaded Byron as he found himself back in his bed. It had been a foresightful day and he was completely exhausted. The room was night aside from the entitle radiance of the television. He watched some lame biz show on a public access channel as his eyelid drooped.

After the morning meal, he 'd been dressed in full leather with plenty of pony dramatic play accessories. He 'd spent near of the afternoon helping move equipment and fabric for the farm 's renovation efforts, but there were fun and plot as well. After all that, a day 's worth of mud and grime was hosed off him before dinner party. Then came his endorsement milking of the day.

Now, finally, he was able to rest. Soon, he 'd put his earbuds in and let the sugariness feminine representative of the farm 's conditioning settee into his brain as he slept.

* knock knocking belt *

Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale looked to the doorway, surprised that someone would come calling this late. Before he could say anything, it opened and in stepped his handler for the second time that day. She looked different than usual ; no longer dressed for work. In her Brown, cover greatcoat, leather bustier and pixilated blue angel jeans it looked like she 'd been enjoying a night on the town with her fellow unchanging Dommes.

Jessie closed the door behind her and turned to him. The mischief in her grin matched the light in her eyes. She carried only a small-scale leather shoulder bag with her.

"Hello, slut. You had quite a day, so I thought I 'd come baulk on you."

Byron sat up and nodded to her."Good evening, schoolmarm. Is there something I can do for you ?"

"How nice of you to ask"she replied as she moved to the TV and shut it off. The odd couplet were cast into darkness. Now, he could see only her outline in the soft gleam of Moon from the window."As a thing of fact, there is."

"How may I be of servicing ?"

Jessie set down her bag and extracted her arms from the coat before folding it and tossing it aside on a electric chair. She undid her pants and pulled them down as she spoke. Her boots were pulled off and kicked aside along with her panties.

"There 's only so many time a adult female can do this work before wanting more ... Wanting to know what it feels like."

"What it feels like ?"

Jessie snickered at his youthful innocence."To have one of you inside me. To sense the dam flare-up while in the throes of ecstasy. I 've wanted it for a patch now, but I was waiting for the right stud."

Byron 's mouth opened. He was speechless as he watched the curvy, darkened figure before him unhook her bra and toss it aside. next, she reached down and grabbed something from her bag. Byron heard the companion jail and jangle of cold steel.

Jessie moved to the bedside and gazed down at him."Lay back and put your helping hand above your head."

Byron followed her command, spreading himself out and placing his wrists above the pillow. Jessie reached down and secured one carpus in the handcuffs before winding them around the metal housing of the headboard and securing the other.

* CRRIIICKK-CRICK *

"clear your backtalk"she instructed.

Byron opened wide-cut, presenting his spit to her obediently. He heard a familiar furrow as Jessie produced on of the familiar medication pill. She broke it clear, extracted the pill and dropped it in Byron 's mouth.

"Swallow."

Byron had long suspected the medicinal drug was some kind of performance enhancer. Whether it was specifically to heighten semen output or it had early effects on his physiology he was n't sure. He just knew it felt marvellous once the meds kicked in. In just a few minutes, he would be euphoric.

Jessie placed her hands on his chest. She pushed him down, taking hold of his speed physical structure as she slid onto the bed and straddled him. Byron could sense her affectionateness all over, but especially the heat of her dripping sex. She worked herself up and down his midsection as she groped at his strong arms and house pectoral muscle, reveling in the fresh ascendance of her bound cum slave.

"You make a fine pony # 17, but I 've watched you closely. I know you do n't like the barn. You do n't want to locomote there, do you ?"

"... No, Mistress."he admitted reluctantly.

She grabbed his Kuki-Chin."It 's hunky-dory. I bring good news. You can avoid that destiny, if I so choose."

"fancy woman ?"he asked, gazing up into her shimmering eyes.

"Each of us is allowed to take one slave for our own. That favorable scantling may stay in our poop, serving us loyally and retaining some amount of homo dignity."

Jessie pressed her soft ass cheeks back on Byron 's rapidly uphill staff. She slid her easy shot up and down his phallus, the fleshy distance hardening until it felt like it would explode. His scrotum twitched below, growing more plump by the second as the drug began to take force. Normally, his sack would swell slowly through the nighttime as he rested. This was the low gear time he 'd taken three doses in a single day. Byron hoped his organic structure could support this much intimate overclocking.

"Are you gear up for your third milking, slave ?"she asked, placing a digit on his backtalk. She pressed firmly, revealing that the question was rhetorical."As long as you please me, you 'll be getting a third milking every day from now on."

Her gyrating against his straining hard-on came to a stop. She lifted her hip joint at the right angle to lend her sopping wet vena portae to the tip of his penis. Jessie stared at him as she lowered herself down slowly. As his thick erecting plunged into her velvety depths, Byron lost his mind.

"OhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ! ! ! !"

She maintained eye contact for as long as she could, but even Jessie gave way to the pleasance, cooing sensually and closing her optic as her heat enveloped Byron 's shaft. She stayed still for a time, adjusting to his length and sizing while biting her lip and moaning.

Byron wanted nothing more than to throw and buck into the gorgeous handler until he blew his fleetly building load into the depth of his mistress. But with her weight on top of him and his arms bound, he had no leverage.

Jessie controlled the rate of their rutting. She flexed her legs ; rising and falling on the Milk River he-man 's bulging duration of hot heart. As she built a slow, unfluctuating round, Jessie reached down and took unfermented hold of him. Her left palm was mat against his breast. Her right hand found his back talk, inserting three fingers and plunging over his diffuse, warm tongue. Her bare tit bounced in the dim moonlight as she began to tantalize him aggressively. She was a admittedly cow young woman in the very pose that bore her title.

When she 'd had her fill of dominating his sassing, she pulled her phlegmy fingers free. Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale 's moans came loud as she continued to depend upon his slick duration of fat cock up and down. She reached for the blanket at her English and brought the corner to his mouth, stuffing it inside. Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale 's groans of bliss were stifled, if not silenced, by the makeshift muzzle.

"Ca n't deliver you waking up the whole complex"she said in breathless exhales of growing walking on air."Should 've brought a gag. You make such lovely noises when you 're gagged."

Her hands found his torso and gripped his body tightly. She route him for respective long bit as the pleasure and intimate latent hostility surged. Byron pulled on the handcuff frantically, despairing to channel his excitement somewhere other than his blade hard cum pipe. Jessie 's sleek walls slid up and down his pecker exquisitely, bathing him in tight, wet bliss as her moan grew louder.

"Mmmmmmm ! Yes ! Give it to me ! Give it to me, cum slave !"

Byron 's orgasm hit him replete force out, exploding like a jizzum vent as Jessie hilted on his spewing genus Phallus. She moaned gibberish and dug her fingers into Bryon 's flanks as her depths were filled with voluminous streams of hot cum. The bound Milk stud moaned around the mouthful of wet blanket, his centre rolling upward as his balls shuddered and ejected an endless watercourse of creamy nut up into the quivering Domina.

His prodigious discharge backed up in her cum-clogged shape and ran freely from the stretched pussy rim of the moaning Mistress. Waves of warm custard slid from their joined flesh, covering Byron 's hips and torso with steamy library paste. The glue-like seed ran everywhere, bathing the sides of Jessie 's wooden leg and the bottom of her ass ; sealing them together in a torrent of gripping filth.

As Byron 's body convulsed, Jessie resumed her fucking. She slid up and down his cum-drenched rod, gripping his prick tightly with her spongy walls. The young man looked up at her in a pleasure-wracked daze, wondering how many rounds this would last. Their bodies were already soiled beyond bar and the bedding was drenched in clingy cum.

The devious flicker in Jessie 's eyes and her vertiginous laugh were all the meter reading he needed. The night was young and his third milking was far from over.

- - - - - - - - - -

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