By refusing Swinea the future use of my body, I may have just earned myself an enemy. It’s a truth I want to deny, but know I must face. You tried your best. The words strobed in front of my eyes.
I’d already made her smoking hot brunette wife orgasm, so the brunette owed me a favor. Maybe I can leverage that favor to protect myself. From what I’ve learned from Bella, hupigs are serious about their honoring their favors. A favor is an unbreakable promise to them. Favor. Favor. Favor. I wish the cruel brat who was standing in the bathtub, owed me one. Something in the back of my brain told me one day I might need her help.
“Obey me, heifer!” The brat stomped one foot on the bathtub floor and screamed.
I ignored her and continued allowing the cool running tap water to soothe my aching, injured fingers, hand, and wrist. Then with my good hand, I splashed a few cupped handfuls of the cold water on my chest to help relieve the raw, burning sensation plaguing my much-abused nipples and tits.
“What’s your IQ?” the brat huffed.
I shook my head while I clenched then unclenched my fists. I growled under my breath, fed up with hupigs asking me what my IQ was. I turned to face her in time to watch her widen her stance inside the cast iron and porcelain clawfoot tub. Her arousal dripped down her inner thighs.
“My IQ’s 174. What’s your IQ?” I challenged her.
Her big brown eyes bugged out, popping wide open. A pained expression flashed behind them. In an instant, the line of the cute redhead’s mouth transformed from a commanding sneer into one of the fake toothy smiles the hupigs wear for each other during their games of intrigue. She gulped hard. Yet, she never allowed her smile to drop. Not even a little bit.
“170,” she boasted while puffing out her chest and making her pert just enough tits bounce up and down in the process.
She smiled wider, baring her perfectly aligned bright white teeth. The show she was putting on looked exhausting, and her display of prowess was lost on me, so I decided to put an end to it.
“Close your mouth, brat,” I sneered, allowing my irritation with her to come through in my voice.
“What?” she gasped, blinking her eyes several times. Her eyes watered, but her rapid blinking held back her flow of tears. This highborn hupig was clearly unused to being spoken to so sternly by a hucow — especially a hucow who was as lowborn as me.
I turned away from her again to lean over the sink and splash more cold water over the peaked tips of my sore nipples.
Her cruel game was unraveling. She thought she was going to intimidate me with her IQ. She’d been determined to lord her intellectual prowess over me, but her mean girl hupig scheme didn’t work out as planned. My number is 174. Hers is 170. That’s only a four point difference. However, four points mean a lot in the hupig world – according to Bella.
Bella should know. She was raised in a family of aristocratic hupigs and hubulls. Although she was destined to be a lowly hucow for a time, fate has allowed her to rise in rank again as a farmer’s wife.
It should have been a smart move on Swinea’s part to ask me about my IQ. I can see why she tried to intimidate me with her stats. I should have been intimidated. I should have groveled before her like the lowborn hucow I was.
But, today the brat was unlucky. Today, she probably met a genius level hucow for the first time ever. Her silly humiliation game brought her down low while it raised me up high. I’m certain it was an unexpected defeat for her.
The average hucow has an IQ of 131. That’s above average intelligence. But, most hucows don’t own the genius numbers that hupigs and hubulls do. We tend to be born of common human stock, so it’s natural for our numbers to be lower than theirs. It’s rare for a hucow to be descended from a highborn family.
Also, a hucow has never become a farmer. The majority of farmers are hubulls. But, there are also a fair number of hupig farmers as well.
Swinea’s mother, Mistress Porchetta was one such highborn celebrity hupig farmer. Although, she’s become a hermit and a social outcast now that her entire stable of hucows has abandoned her farm to turn feral. They’re all zombies now, wandering the open pastures as rotting corpses, part of the undead, hucow zombie herd.
Mistress Porchetta’s farm was where the hucow zombie apocalypse first started. One of her hucows was patient zero.
Some say she’s responsible for the zombie apocalypse. I’ve heard rumors that her farm was the first affected by zombieism because she was conspiring with a rogue, former government scientist to experiment on her herd. Rumor has it she was trying to transform the hucows on her farm into docile, easily controlled, mindless cattle.
Everyone knows us hucows are feisty and require a load of praise and coddling to produce good quality milk. We’re feisty but sweet. It’s what we’re known for. That’s where the phrase, ‘the feistier the hucow, the sweeter the milk’ comes from.
Last year, the country’s leading investigative journalism team, accused Mistress Porchetta of funding a series of illegal experiments on her farm. The accusation was that her primary goal was to make her hucows completely submissive and willing to accept all sorts of inhuman treatment while simultaneously tripling their milk production. The journalism team also accused the farmer of regularly mistreating her hucows, and then paying off government officials to ignore her misdeeds.
It appears her experiments were successful. Every zombie hucow is completely submissive to the collective zombie herd, and they each produce much more milk than the average hucow.
Unfortunately, their milk is tainted and undrinkable. It will turn any woman who drinks it into a zombie hucow. Plus, the horde has a nasty habit of killing men. They will drink down the life essence of any male they can wrap their lips around. They’ll age a man from twenty-nine to one-hundred-and-nine in a matter of minutes.
Scientific experimentation may have made me into the milky hucow I am today. But, it also made the hucows in the zombie herd into glowing blue-eyed, green-toothed freaks. Science can be a bitch sometimes.
I heard a soft whimper escape from the back corner of the room, so I turned to face Swinea.
I don’t know why I was surprised that my adorable bratty companion wasn’t saying anything. Mumbles and whimpers were the only sounds escaping her lips.
She was just standing inside the empty bathtub pouting. Her squinting eyes were lowered. She was still blinking, but her long lashes were no longer doing their job. Her tears were tumbling down her cute chubby cheeks, leaving wet streaks on her otherwise perfectly flawless face. She looked pitiful and ‘oh, so sad’ as Bella would say.
My clit throbbed. My body betraying my mind with its lustful desires. Now that Swinea was no longer behaving like a complete bitch, I suddenly wanted her. I wanted the pleasure of making her cum and drinking down her delicious hupig nectar. I longed to own her body with mine. I needed her desperately.
Chapter 10
Daisy
“Please make me cum,” the brat standing in the bathtub begged in a barely audible, but pleading voice.
She dipped one finger inside her cunt and then held the glistening digit out to me as an offering. “Here, taste my sex. It will make you feel good, and it will make you desire me.”
I scrunched up my nose and narrowed my eyes as if the very thought of tasting her fluids repulsed me. However, nothing could have been farther from the truth. I wanted Swinea. I wanted to lap at the bratty hupig’s pussy until I made her cum all over my face.
“Taste me, please,” she begged. “You already have so much of my flavor in your system. Just one more taste will send you over the edge into ecstasy. I promise. My fluids will make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. Please help me. I need to cum so badly. Please, make me cum, sweet, kind hucow.”
Moved by her humble plea, I strode over to the bathtub, parted my lips and sucked the tart sticky sex from her outstretched finger. Then I slid my tongue up and down her finger’s length, completely licking her clean.
Swinea
was beautiful. There was no denying it. Aside from Bella and Hamma, she was the most gorgeous cherub I’d ever laid eyes on.
I’ve always had a craving for chubby girls. Their soft bodies are so sinfully sexy. Their plump curves make my pussy sopping wet. My lust for them burns a raging fire inside my core. When my need for chubby girl sex grips me, it’s a desire I can’t control.
Who am I kidding? When my need for any sex grabs a hold of me, I lose all self-control. I’m a hucow. It’s in my nature to be lusty. And the beautiful brat standing in front of me dipping her finger inside her wet cunt again is making my pussy incredibly wanton with lust.
I swallowed. Suddenly the floor shifted under me, and I felt as though I had no legs. In an instant, my mind and body relaxed into the sensation of floating in mid-air. I wasn’t actually floating, but I might as well have been, the illusion was that real.
Electric pleasure danced up and down my spine and skipped outward along every nerve ending in my body. My fingertips tingled. My lips went numb. My clit pulsed and throbbed with an explosive intensity that forced my body to climax. My belly cramped then relaxed into surreal ripples of satisfaction.
Grip. Release. Grip. Release. My cunt spasmed in ecstasy. I opened my mouth and howled out my pleasure. Bright colors shot out like fireworks across Swinea’s face. Spinning colored wheels spelled out the name Bella right in front of my eyes.
Bella. My lover has a beautiful name.
I don’t know why I’m thinking about my best friend right now, or why I’m calling her my lover. Wait, yes I do. This hupig pussy juice is doing something to my perception of reality — something magical that I absolutely love. Also, if Swinea were a blonde, and slightly less voluptuous, she could pass for Bella’s younger twin sister. In my current state, I suppose it’s natural for my mind to be confused between the two beauties.
When I became the last hucow in the country, the farmer declared my body off limits to everyone. No one was even allowed to touch me, let alone have sex with me. I was forced to give up my Magnus addiction.
Magnus the hubull. Honorable, brave Magnus. That man is a sex god. I’ve missed the penetrating power of his steel rod between my thighs. I’ve missed loving him. I want to make love to him again soon.
For two weeks, the farmer barred me entirely from having sex. His fingers on my pussy during my mikings were the only sexual pleasure I was allowed. Every day he used his fingers expertly to make me cum. But for a hucow as lusty as me, fingers weren’t enough. I needed more. I was so physically frustrated I thought I would go mad with lust.
But, then the farmer, Flavius, saved me.
Flavius. I don’t know why I never say or think the farmer’s name. Flavius. Flavius the hubull. It's a shame most everyone calls him by his title, ‘farmer.' His name is strong and manly. It also hints at his cocky and playful nature. It perfectly suits his status as the leader of our farm.
After sentencing me to two weeks without sexual pleasure for the crime of being the last hucow, Flavius gave me the gift of my best friend. He permitted only Bella and himself to touch me and pleasure my body sexually.
Beautiful Bella. She’s been so good for me these past two years, keeping me sexually sated. I wish I could lick her sweet orange-cream flavored pussy right now. She’d taste delectable on my lips. I know she would.
Bella would make any woman a fine wife. My heart desperately hopes that one day she’ll become my beautiful wife. I would be happy to be her and the farmer’s fourth. Our marriage would, without a doubt, be a love match.
“Please make me cum, Daisy,” the brat standing in the bathtub begged once more in a desperate and pleading voice. The sweetness of her urgent pleas grabbed my attention.
She said the magic word. Daisy. She said my name. I love it when people say my name. The beautiful young hupig spoke it, so I’m her willing slave. She gets whatever pleasure she desires.
I rushed forward and hopped inside the spacious clawfoot tub, standing directly in front of the beautiful Swinea.
“I promise baby girl. I promise to make you cum.” I gently swiped my fingertips down the plump curve of her cheek. “Tell mama what you need. How can mama make you come all over her face?”
I smiled eagerly at her, letting her know my desire to please her was sincere.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” the young girl lowered her eyes to my breasts and licked her lips.
“You’re a rare beauty, baby girl,” I answered her question truthfully.
Her gaze stayed focused on my nipples, and I felt beads of fresh milk push their way out and dribble down my tits. This was the third time today my tits were full and ready to be milked. I’ve never produced so much milk in my entire life. I suspect that somehow the pregnant hupig standing in front of me is responsible for my new bountiful production of delicious sweet cream.
“Would you like a taste of mother’s milk?” I bit my lip then nodded my head, providing my baby girl with the correct answer.
She didn’t answer me with words. Instead, she parted her lips and latched onto one breast. She stuck her tongue out and swiped it across the underside of my nipple. Then she sucked. Wave after wave of pleasure massaged its way through my breast as my milk let down and flowed into the warm suction of my baby girl’s mouth.
She cooed into my breast. The tenderness of her mewling made my clit ache with need.
She swiped her tongue beneath my nipple and gently pulled the milk from my breast until she drank me dry. She moaned into me and my chest warmed from the sweet pleasure of her breath blowing over my sensitive skin.
Then unexpectedly she hurt me. Her sucking grew rough, and she tugged violently at my oversensitive nipple.
“That hurts!” I cried out.
Any reasonable person would have suckled more gently when they heard me cry out in pain. But Swinea didn’t behave like a reasonable person. Instead, she yanked my tit harder and then bit down cruelly on the base of my nipple.
The agony electrifying my breast was so intense I feared I would pass out.
“Please stop hurting me,” I pleaded with the biter.
I was beginning to hate the little brat again. But, I’d promised to make her cum, so I allowed her to continue suckling at my breast.
“Drink from me gently, sweetheart,” I begged.
Swinea released my nipple from her lips and looked up at me with a gaped open milky mouth and big, confused eyes.
“Why are you admonishing me to be gentle?” she questioned. “My mother taught me that hucows love to be milked roughly. I’m merely giving you what every hucow craves. I’m gifting you a vigorous milking. Isn’t that what you want? Aren’t I making you happy?”
Suddenly, her every cruel treatment of my body made sense. She thought she was pleasing me. Swinea wasn’t an inherently mean girl. She had just been taught wrong. She didn’t deserve my hate. What she needed was my gentle guidance.
I grabbed my other full tit in hand and presented it to her. “Here, baby girl, mama wants you to drink from her tit. She wants you to drink from her tit so much.”
I swept the fingers of my free hand down the soft curve of her beautiful cheek to show her I was sincere.
“Mama wants you to drink her milk down gently. She wants to feel your sweetness when you suckle at her breast.”
Slowly, I slid my hand from the soft curve of her cheek down to the pointed tip of her chin. Gripping her chin between my fingertips, I tilted her head up to face mine more directly.
“Do you understand me?” I questioned, before allowing her to latch onto my other nipple.
“Yes mama,” she nodded, pushing down my fingers. “You want your baby girl to suckle gently. I’ll drink from you so sweetly, mama. I’ll be a good girl. You’ll see.”
Eagerly, she wrapped her lips around my sore and aching tit. But, this time, she didn’t hurt me. She softly wiggled her tongue against the underside of my nipple, massaging pleasure into my raw flesh.
She suckled kindly, gently
pulling my milk into the soft heat of her mouth. Her tender, rhythmic kneading of the much-abused flesh of my other breast, sent pleasure radiating down to my clit. I climaxed again, from the gentle pleasure of having my breast emptied so sweetly.
Her belly full of my milk, she allowed my emptied breast to fall from her lips. Desperate for a taste of her delicious cream, I dropped to my knees. Hungrily, I spread apart the fleshy folds of her pussy lips with my fingers. With the musky scent of her arousal inspiring me, I tilted my chin upward and eagerly licked her slit from the center of her hot hole up all the way up to the hood of her clit.
“Mmm…you taste delicious, beautiful,” I moaned into her pussy lips while continuing to lap up her delicious juices. She was dripping wet and panting with her excitement. Her hips swiveled front to back uncontrollably with her excitement. Happy to be pleasing her, I wiggled my tongue sideways through her ruffled folds then sucked the juice from her sex. She giggled at the sensation.
“That’s it beautiful, laugh for mama,” I encouraged her between licks. “Give mama more of your sweetness. Mama wants more.”
She was sopping wet now, and her arousal poured out of her like a flowing river. I gripped her thick thighs, and her muscles trembled beneath my touch. I could feel she was close to climaxing, and I wanted to push her over the edge into ecstasy. I wanted to make her cum all over my face.
Curling in the thin line of my lips, I wrapped my mouth around her clit and sucked on her hard little nub. With constant suction, I stimulated her clit while leaning my nose forward and nuzzling it into the mane of wavy red hairs decorating her mound.
“That tickles,” she squealed, and I knew I had her. She was about to come for me.
Taboo Desires: Dirty Forbidden Secrets Bundle (The Complete Miranda Cougar Collection) Page 31