“Th-thanks.”
“Oh don’t start stammering now buddy, you’ve seen us both naked, don’t think your pole is going to offend anybody.” Jan sniggered again as Miranda rolled her eyes.
He was beet red. He vividly remembered the strange dream from the night before and had a hard time looking at either woman, especially Miranda as he kept seeing her face between his legs as she rubbed at his belly…
Luckily Milly came into the front room while they were talking, blearily wiping sleep from her eyes.
“Holy cow! It’s a theme around this place!” Jan chortled as she drew his attention to Milly’s breasts.
The hardened nipples poking out of her shirt were rather hard to miss.
“That’s enough Jan. Let’s not forget we are here on an official capacity.” Miranda berated her.
“Good morning, Master.” Milly hugged him, poking his cheek with one erect tip and seeming oblivious to Jan’s teasing.
“Let’s get this done. Then you kids can destroy this place. It kind of needs it. You live in a dump kid.” Miranda looked around with distaste plain on her face.
“Y-yeah, it’s all I can afford.” He blushed, shamefaced.
“Hmph, well I’m sure with her help you can fix that.”
She looked for somewhere to put the paperwork but there was no table, so she had to drop it all on the counter. It took nearly two hours to fill out the countless forms, during which she lectured him thoroughly on his responsibilities and the severe consequences of neglecting them.
By the end of it his brain was thoroughly melted and he was petrified of making a mistake.
“Relax, kid. I know there a lot of rules and such but really it’s mostly common sense. Keep her happy, keep her healthy and you won’t have any problems from the Aegis. Believe me you are not a priority to us. There are a lot of guys out there, and even a few gals, who have the worst intentions when it comes to monster girls.” She looked grim; “Which is why, instead of sticking around and making sure you toe the line, Jan and I have to get back to work. We will be back as soon as we finish our mission. I’m a little curious how this little story turns out.”
“Mission? What mission?” Milly asked innocently.
Miranda and Jan exchanged a look.
“They actually should know…” Jan offered quietly.
Miranda let out a gust of air to deliver bad news.
“We’re hunting a Tenebrae, Milly. And I wish we were hunting something else.”
Milly gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
Nameless looked puzzled, he thought he had heard the word before but couldn’t remember where.
Miranda caught his confusion and swore.
“A Lost One, dipshit! A girl whose stone has been contaminated by some prick who treated her like garbage?”
Her questioning tone nudged him and his eyes widened as he remembered his lessons.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’! Look, you just focus on making sure Milly here stays in the light and when we get back I will beat this stuff into you. I don’t know where you went to school but it is blatantly clear that you sucked at it!” She paused, giving him a speculative look; “In the meantime I suggest you look around this little town for someone who knows how to properly care for your girl here. I know there are a few Lambda farms around so maybe try one of them.”
He nodded at her, nervous at her intensity.
“Great, now we need to get back on the trail. Good luck kid, Milly.” She gave a jerky nod to the Minotaur.
With that Miranda left and as Jan moved to follow she cast one last teasing barb over her shoulder.
“See ya soon buddy! You should really have Milly look at that dick of yours. It looked pretty swollen and I think it might be infected!”
As the door closed Nameless slowly turned to a suddenly worried Milly.
“Sh-she was kidding.”
Milly didn’t look convinced, her eyes fixed on his crotch...
Chapter 4:
Old Friends
Taking Miranda’s words to heart, after she and Jan had left Nameless sought out the elderly Paul Fletcher for advice. Paul had been the helpful farmer that had leant Miranda the use of his pail to cool Milly off outside of the bathhouse.
Nameless had done some work for him when he was fifteen. Although unable to make the grade as a farmhand due to his short stature and general lack of muscles, it turned out he had a way with livestock.
After a late night storm blew one wall of their coop down, Paul’s Cockatrice flock had scattered in terror. On his way to school, Nameless had found one of the poor girls stuck in a tree, dripping wet from the rain and keening miserably. A quirk of the breed, they were excellent climbers, but only going up; to his knowledge there were simply incapable of climbing downwards.
He went up after her and just sat down on a branch near her, talking quietly with her until she finally trusted him enough to let him carry her down on his back, her feathered arms wrapped around him tightly. When they got back to Paul’s farm he was so impressed that he set Nameless to work for the rest of the day to help him bring the others home.
One particularly terrified girl they found hidden in a narrow culvert. Of the two of them Nameless was the only one small enough to go after her and so he spent over an hour lying belly down in the icy runoff from the rain while patiently trying to convince the poor girl that the storm was over.
Paul’s regular hands, good workers they may be, weren’t equipped to deal with the flighty girls and spent a good chunk of their day face down in the dirt, paralyzed by the Cockatrice’s cries.
When the last of the girls was returned home safely at near to midnight, a soggy and exhausted Nameless found himself face to face with Ophelia in one of her revealing nightgowns, trying to explain where he had been all day.
He shuddered at the memory, she had been furious with him, although she softened a bit once he was finally able to explain.
Paul Fletcher was the only person that he knew that might know the proper way to care for a love-struck Minotaur. As he and Milly found their way to his farm in the late morning, he was relieved to see the old farmer on his usual perch on his porch railing, whittling away at a piece of wood.
His knife paused as he caught sight of the pair.
“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you soon my boy! Come have a seat.” The old man drawled as he gestured with his knife to the wicker chairs on his porch.
“Hello Mr. Fletcher.”
“Jeeze boy, a hunnerd times now I’ve told you to call me Paul.” He frowned at the youngen.
“Sorry, Mr. Fletcher!” Nameless plopped down in his seat with a smile.
He had always liked the old farmer and was comfortable being cheeky with him.
“Ha!” Barked the old man; “Ophelia taught you well, too well I’m thinking. So, who is this lovely vision I see before me hmmm? We weren’t properly introduced the other day while you were kissin this lucky little stitch.”
Milly blushed prettily, unaccustomed to such flattery and enjoying it immensely.
“Milly, sir. My name is Milly.”
“Well Milly, I don’t know if you are aware but you have two of the most beautiful horns these old eyes have ever seen, and quiet a fantastic pair of tits to boot!”
Nameless’s jaw dropped at his forwardness.
He’s normally so polite!
Milly giggled and held her arms in front of herself, emphasizing her assets while shifting from side to side.
“Gosh, do you really think so?” She asked innocently, in a thinly veiled attempt to earn more praise.
“I do indeed, and believe you me; I know what I’m talking about.”
He slowly slid off of the railing and sheathed his whittling knife at his side, as he carelessly tossed away the stick he had been working on.
“Which, I imagine, is why you two youngsters have found your way onto my porch this fine evening?”
Milly’s stomach took that
opportunity to give off a plaintive growl and her blush grew.
“Well now! Ain’t no sense standing around flapping my gums while a gorgeous cow starves to death right in front of me! Why don’t you come in for some breakfast darlin’? I have a few dozen bags of oats left over from the harvest that are still fresh. A purdy cow with juicy fun-bags like yours needs to stay fed!”
Once again, Nameless was at a loss; he had never heard Paul speak so bluntly before, but Milly seemed to enjoy it.
As they went into the farmer’s kitchen he disappeared into his pantry for a minute then came out with an enormous bag of oats which he set on the table for Milly. If Nameless was shocked before, it was nothing compared to Milly’s reaction at seeing what the farmer had set on the table before her.
“Um… sir?”
“You can go ahead and call me Paul, Moon-Pie.”
She blushed again at his spontaneous pet name for her.
“Well, Paul. How much of this is for me?”
He looked surprised at her earnest question.
“Why, the whole dang bag if you want it! Goodness, no wonder you look so peckish, hasn’t anybody fed you lately?” He frowned over at Nameless who looked suddenly guilty.
“My last owner just let me graze off of the side of the road.” She said shamefacedly, head turned down.
Paul looked incensed for a moment, and then muttered to himself.
“I swear, some people just need a good hanging, and I have the damn rope!” He pointed at her, brooking no argument; “Look here sweetheart, you dig into those oats and you don’t come up for air until you’re chewing on the inside of that bag!”
She still looked hesitant, as if waiting for him to change his mind.
“Never mind your table manners, you set to and I do mean right now missy!” He gave her pert rump a firm slap to spur her into action and she let out a startled moo before burying her face in the bag and eating with gusto; “And as for you!” One gnarled digit pointed at Nameless and he couldn’t help but jump before Paul adroitly crooked his thumb for him to follow him back out onto the porch.
As the pair left the room Milly laid into the bag of oats like nobody’s business; gasping, snorting, and letting out plaintive moos of satisfaction as she stuffed her face for the first time in weeks.
Paul took out his pipe and banged it out against one of the porch columns in agitation. Nameless was more than a little nervous. Paul filled his bowl, lit it, and took a long draw before he sighed and turned back to the jittery youth.
“Relax boy, you’re not the one I’m really mad at. The whole town is buzzing about what you done. You best check in with Ophelia soon cuz the story on the vine is that you got whipped to within an inch of your life by that sumbitch, she’ll be worried.”
Nameless nodded numbly, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the scar across his chin and chest.
“You have her heartstone on you?”
Paul looked surprised when Nameless just raised his hand and revealed the delicate gem nestled in his palm.
Poor Kid must be terrified of losing it.
“You should get yourself a proper housing for that, no sense walking around one handed if you don’t have to. That fine looking Aegis lady looking after you two?” Nameless nodded; “Well, it is good that she’s involved at least. She’ll tell you most of what you need to know, but I imagine you’re after knowing some specifics of her breed?”
“Yes sir.” He nodded at the man’s words; “I want to do the right thing, but I’m not entirely sure what the right thing is.”
Paul nodded in approval at the boy’s honest answer.
“Well, she bonded with you, that’s clear.” He mused, examining Nameless with a gleam in his eyes; “That part I can’t help you with much, the emotional stuff I mean, a few tips is all I have. You have a good head for it without me interfering. And I know your heart is always in the right place. Don’t think my hens have forgotten about you, they still gab on about the boy that saved them from the flood.”
Nameless didn’t respond, not really sure how. He was also fairly certain he’d never heard a Cockatrice speak…
“You do seem to be utterly clueless as to the gritty details of caring for a cow. And that I can help you with. Heifers are some of the best gals around in my opinion, always ready to return whatever love they get tenfold, which is why it broils my biscuits when I see someone treatn’ them raw. So here is the skinny: hooves, horns, tits and teeth.”
Nameless blushed and looked like he had a question but waited for the older man to continue.
“She’s producin’ milk right?” At Nameless’s nod, he continued; “Good, make sure you milk her at least twice daily, she knows how, so no need for me to embarrass you. Just make sure you drink your fill, ‘cuz she’ll quit producing if she thinks you don’t like it. She’ll also get really sore if you slack off on the milkings, and given her demeanor I doubt she’ll complain, but I will gladly whoop your scrawny ass if you do her wrong!”
Nameless wasn’t sure what terrified him more; the farmer’s threat or the thought that he would have to manhandle Milly’s breasts multiple times a day.
“Check her hooves to make sure she doesn’t have any rock-bruises, given that she has been traveling I’d say that’s a distinct possibility. Once again, she likely won’t say anything until she comes up lame. Most heifers spend their days in nice soft fields rather than the packed dirt of the open road. You decide to take her on a journey we’ll get her fitted for some shoes then she can prance on all the rocks she likes, least ‘till she wears ‘em out. Meantime you gotta keep the bottoms trimmed to keep her weight evenly balanced on her toes. I can show you how, but that’s a once a year sort of thing. I still have the tools lying around somewhere; you can have ‘em.”
He waved off Nameless’s objections.
“I have no use for them anymore boy! I’m too old now to care for a heifer proper, but not too old to make sure that you do.” He gave a stern glare before he continued; “Normally you don’t need to worry about her teeth; she’s not stupid after all and can take care of that herself. But I’ll want to take a look and make sure she hasn’t worn them down too much with all the crappy fodder she’s been forced to eat. Half of her diet should come out of a bag; oats, barley, corn that sort of thing, just make sure it’s good quality like mine. About a half bag a day should do it, when she isn’t half starved to begin with. The rest should be fodder to balance things out. And not dirty clumps of grass off the side of the damn road neither! Long bladed stuff! Like you see out there.” He gestured out towards his fields and Nameless nodded.
“As for her horns, well, that’s not so much a physical thing as an emotional one. Minotaur horns are indestructible so you don’t need to worry about them like you will her hooves. Thing is, heifers are really sensitive about their horns, ain’t no coincidence the first words outta my mouth were to compliment her on ‘em.”
Nameless’s eyes widened in understanding.
“So with that in mind, you polish her horns for her every few days or so and she’ll really feel the affection. For that matter you polish her hooves too, she’ll be almost as thin-skinned about them as her horns.”
Paul’s look turned pensive and he took a breath.
“I very seriously doubt that any of her previous owners took proper care of her, I get the sense that she has some unwarranted body image issues. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cow that needed to be told to eat her fill. So don’t be shy with heaping on the praise, be direct too, she won’t mind a stitch if you complement her tits or her ass, but you gotta mean it! It’ll break her heart if she figures you are just blowing hot air at her.”
Nameless swallowed at the thought, remembering what Miranda had said along the same lines.
“I don’t want to hurt her. Not ever.” Nameless said quietly.
“Good. Don’t. You give much thought to the future yet?”
Nameless shook his head.
“No, I mean,
I know that my place is small but... I don’t really have any savings.”
Paul barked a laugh.
“Hah! Well, there ain’t no way a scrawny inch like you could possibly drink all the milk she’ll try to feed you. So, for a modest fee, I would be happy to help broker the sale of it for you, at least while you live in Kettering. I’m too old even to bother going to Wayfelt anymore, so I don’t know what the situation is their heifer-wise.”
He paused for a moment, doing math in his head.
“I think a gallon of her milk for myself every day would be worth everything you need to care for her, as well as all of the grains she can eat. Given the size of her udders, and with a proper diet, I think she’ll produce at least four or five gallons a day so you should have more than enough to start saving. All sorts of people, good folk even, will be after her milk in a bad way once word gets out, so don’t you believe a word they tell you about how much it’s worth. A half-quart of the stuff used to go for over a hunnerd bits-”
Nameless eyes boggled, five gallons?! And that was almost as much money as he made in the last two days! Paul went on.
“-and that was back when there were a trio of heifers in town who could produce. Now there’s just the one.”
“How come it is worth so much? And why aren’t there are any heifers in town anymore?” He asked slowly, afraid of the answer to his second question.
“The milk, as you no doubt learned already from that scar on your chin, is great for speeding up the healing of cuts and bruises and such. But the real value is what it does for the bones; you could heal broken bones in a fraction of the time with her milk. And a single glass in the mornings will be more than enough to clear up my arthritis. So don’t go thinking I don’t have my own selfish motives here.” He looked down at his gnarled hands ruefully.
“As for the lack of heifers, that’s simple; they almost never produce in any real quantity unless they’re bonded, and not a lot of folk around here are willing to shell out the bits to buy a tamed heifer with no guarantee that they’ll take to their new owner, let alone folks willing to wander off into the lowlands looking for a wild one to woo for themselves, good way to get gored.” He chuckled; “Reality of it is kid, bonded to you, that heifer is worth her weight in gold.”
Empath Rising Page 6