To rise to power, I needed the assistance of powerful allies. Hamma was wife to the head hubull on the estate I grew up on. She had been the most brilliantly calculating woman I had ever met. The woman could have easily become a farmer herself if she had the desire. So, when her husband unexpectedly passed away, and she found herself in want of a new spouse I immediately pursued her and eventually won her hand in marriage.
What nobody knows, not even Magnus is that Hamma and I have never consummated our marriage. We are husband and wife in name only. Neither of us felt right about sleeping with each other. After all, she’s my best friend’s mother. I wish I could tell Magnus the truth about our sham marriage, but Hamma forbade it. And like always, I know she’s right. No one can know that our marriage isn’t real. It would destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to build on our farm.
Bella is my only real wife. We sleep together in a large, luxurious bed inside our tiny bedroom. Our bed is large enough to sleep four, which helps to keep up appearances. Hamma sleeps inside the far more spacious hidden interior room, which sits just behind the bedroom Bella and I share.
There is a secret passageway between her private hot spring and her personal room. I suspect she entertains lovers inside her room. But, I never ask about the details of her dalliances, and she never offers any. I know she’s partial to young hupigs. I’ve seen her eyeing the young local beauties as she luxuriates with them in the farm’s mud baths and hot springs. But, as the farmer’s wife and head hupig, she’s expected to socialize with the local ladies. So, her lustings don’t raise any suspicions about the strength of our marriage.
It was Hamma who first suggested I overcome my hesitation to pursue Daisy. She said we could leverage Daisy’s celebrity as the last hucow to make our farm more powerful and affluent. Ultimately, with her as our wife, we could have real power to change the farming system. With Daisy at our side, our farm could finally become more influential than the power-mad aristocratic Sky Mountain farming estates.
Hamma convinced me that Magnus’ infatuation with Daisy was merely lust. She said he would get over her in time. I believed her. I wanted to believe her because truth be told, I’d wanted Daisy for myself for years. I had always dreamt of creating an eternal bond with both Bella and Daisy in marriage.
I was jealous that Magnus had gotten to her first. He kept her body busy every night, all night. She was his only lover, the only woman he wanted to bed. With him constantly at her side, no other man even had a chance to approach her.
There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, separating Magnus and Daisy. I should have told Hamma no. ‘No, I will not be stealing my best friend’s woman. Period.’ That should have been my exact response to her suggestion to lock Daisy away.
Instead, I was selfish. I forced Daisy to live a lonely life in that barn for the last two years. I kept her away from the man she clearly loves, and I kept him away from her. I’m a monster. For that, I deserve to experience every second of the torture I know I am about to endure. But, Magnus does not deserve this pain. For that reason, I must hold onto what’s left of my strength. I must help him escape.
Chapter 13
Flavius The Farmer
“How could you steal Daisy from me?” Magnus screams again in my mind.
My best friend’s thick lips curl inward on themselves, creating a thin line spreading across his wide-jawed face. His eyes clamp closed, and a single tear drips from his left eye, trailing its way down the curve of his chiseled cheek. This is the first time in our twenty-four years as friends I’ve seen him shed a tear. I’ve wounded him.
“I’m a selfish bastard,” I say to him inside his mind.
I mean to think the thought contritely, but it comes out of my brain as a cocky quip. I really am a bastard. I can’t even apologize to my best bro with the sincerity my heart intends.
Magnus squeezes my hand. Cold and sweaty, his fingers entwine deeper with mine. Neither he nor I can release the death grip the zombies have placed us in. The zombie queen ordered her subjects to put us in these restraints and to bind our hands together to strengthen our bond. The zombies are transforming us into a herd of two, Magnus and I. Right now I can hear his thoughts and he can hear mine. Soon, we won’t just hear each other’s thoughts. We will think the same thoughts and become entirely of one mind.
Once our thoughts fully merge into a single hive mind, we will become food for the zombie queen. Our zombie handlers tell us that once we complete the transformation, and our minds fully merge, we will willingly and regularly offer ourselves up as living nourishment for the queen.
I try to resist the mind merge. I attempt to close off my mind, but it’s impossible. I’m drawn to converse with Magnus and to share my deepest secrets and fears with him. I don’t want to. I want to keep my treachery private, but I can’t. I can’t stop myself from sharing every sin I’ve ever committed against him. The need to reveal my deepest shameful betrayals to him is too overwhelmingly great.
Magnus and I have been best bros for nearly our entire lives. But now our zombie handlers tell us we’re in the process of becoming something greater and far more intimate. We’re being joined together as herd mates. Like the other unfortunate males captured before us, we are undergoing the transformation. The queen has certain nutritional requirements that the other zombie hucows don’t have. And from what our handlers tell us, our being joined together in this intimate way makes us acceptable food for her majesty.
I watch as two of our handlers pry Magnus’ mouth open while a third and forces another thick lubricated feeding tube down his throat.
“Don’t fight it!” I shout an order into his mind. “If you fight, they’ll still shove the tube in, but the damned thing will tear up your throat like it did last time. You’ll be injured again if you keep struggling. I need you strong. We both need to keep up our strength if we’re going to power out of this nightmare and get back home to our women.”
“What women?”
Magnus’ words taste bitter in my mind.
“Your two pregnant wives.”
“not mine,” he mumbles.
“What?”
“Never mind….”
His head hangs low. But he listens to my words and stops struggling, allowing our handlers to lift his chin and strap his feeding tube in place with long thick swaths of spiked leather that stretch completely around his head and buckle in place.
I want to ask him what he meant when he mumbled ‘not mine’, but I’m distracted by hot fresh agony ripping through my flesh. The zombie who is draining the life from me sinks her teeth deeper into my sensitive skin and tugs roughly on my flesh as she drinks my essence. I suspect she doesn’t have to consume my life force so cruelly. I think she just enjoys the pained grunts I sound out as she tears at my flesh and steals my years away from me.
The zombie drinking Magnus is just as vicious. She’s scraping her teeth up and down his length, making his back arch and hips jerk in torment. His grip on my hand is weaker than it was a moment ago, but still too forceful. His strength overwhelms the new frailness of my fingers. My bones ache. He rubs the thin, aging skin lining my knuckles raw. As his fingertips press hard into my knuckles, I feel the increasingly brittle bones of my hand crack, threatening to splinter into hundreds of tiny broken pieces.
His grip tightens, and I scream out in agony as one of my aged fingers snap. Instantly he stops squeezing, recognizing he’s injured me. Even though he’s loosened his grip, the agony shooting from my broken finger up into my wrist and arm is nearly unbearable. I almost wish the zombies would just finish me off instead of draining my life force away and then giving it back to me, making me strong and whole again with their life-giving milk.
In years, I am still a young man of twenty-nine. But, as my zombie handler drinks my life away, my body ages. I look down at the thin, shriveled skin lining my arm, and I would estimate my body is biologically 90 years old now. I turn to face Magnus again, and I see that his hair is thin, sparse a
nd now entirely white.
With brutal speed, the three zombie handlers move from Magnus to me. I open my mouth for them and allow them to push the lubricated feeding tube down my throat. Even though I comply, the thick tube still scrapes up my tender throat lining. But, at least, I don’t taste blood this time. Last time, the feeding was brutal. I’m a strong man, and I can endure a lot of pain. But I don’t desire ever to experience a feeding as vicious as the one Magnus, and I suffered through less than four hours ago.
“Enjoy your cream, boys.”
All the zombie handlers laugh in unison as they use funnels to pour their creamy zombie milk into our feeding tubes. The warm milk hits the back of my throat and lands almost past my gag reflex. Almost. I think my cruel handlers placed the tube in this exact position so they could take pleasure in watching me gag and choke as I try to swallow down gulp after gulp of heavy cream.
“Daisy!”
Magnus’ mind screams the name of the woman he loves as he suffers through his torture. His throat makes sputtering, coughing and gagging sounds, just like mine, as he chugs down his milky dinner. The sound of his suffering makes bile rise in my throat. But, I swallow it down. I have little choice. I can swallow, or I can choke.
Chapter 14
Bella
“Why did you conspire to separate Magnus and Daisy?” I ask Hamma once we’ve hiked a sufficient distance away from our hubull protectors. I don’t want any of them to overhear our conversation. This is a private discussion between a mentor and her protégée.
“Because I had to,” Hamma glances back at me and grimaces.
“That’s a lie,” I clench both fists into rock hard balls as I challenge the sincerity of her answer.
“Because, she didn’t love my boy… not the way he deserves to be loved.”
“That’s insanity. Of course, she loved him; she spent every second she could in his bed.”
“She didn’t love him. She loved his cock.” Hamma’s movements still.
“That’s not true!” I shout, defending my best friend. “She loved both him and his cock.”
“She loves sex. Period. She’s a lusty, spoiled brat, and she’ll hop into bed with anyone who sets off her cravings. She can’t help herself. It’s the hucow hormones coursing through her little body that make her behave this way.”
Hamma’s throat releases a bitter laugh as she turns around to face the herd of hubulls following us. Less than a mile back, she’d ordered them to trail far behind us as we walked closer to the zombie encampment. Now she holds up her hand giving them the signal to stop following us all together. We are to travel the rest of the distance to the zombie camp alone.
We’re both aware we’re walking into a trap. It’s a trap we two can survive if we use our smarts. But, we both know if any of the hubulls in our company follow us into the zombie compound they’ll most certainly be killed on site.
It would have been safest for them if we had left them all at the farm. But, we had to bring them with us. We needed their protection to make it this far.
Zombies aren’t the only danger in these hills. Other predators are roaming about. Especially, in the area we just crossed. Hungry coyotes, wolves, and bobcats regularly travel these hillsides in search of vulnerable prey to slaughter and consume. They need to hunt and eat to survive and to feed their young. Hamma and I don’t begrudge them their survival. We simply don’t want to be their next dinner.
“Once and for all, tell me the truth,” I keep pushing my mentor for answers. “Why did you convince Flavius to separate Magnus and Daisy?”
“You don’t want to hear the truth,” Hamma scolds while trudging forward through a patch of thick brush. “You expect me to tell you fairytales.”
“I want the truth. I want you to tell me the real and complete truth, even if it isn’t pretty or what I want to hear,” I insist.
“Hmm. I seriously doubt that.” Hamma stops and turns to face me.
I cease holding my tongue and ask the question I’ve meant to ask, since the start of this journey.
“Why did you make me hurt my best friend?” I feel my lips distort and twist onto themselves as I spit venom at her.
She gives no reply.
“I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, down to the letter. I even brutalized my best friend for you. Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? Why did you make me hurt Daisy?”
My mentor remains silent.
Her lack of response infuriates me, and I ask my question again, this time shouting out my words.
“Why did you instruct me to laugh at Daisy during her breeding? My taunts wounded her – nearly destroyed her. I saw it on her face. Why did you make me mistreat my best friend so cruelly?”
“She needed an attitude adjustment,” Hamma finally grunts. “She’s a hucow, not a queen. It was high time you and the farmer taught Daisy how to respect and obey – her betters.”
“Her betters?”
“Yes, her betters. As young girls, you and I were both taught the facts. Hupigs and hubulls are better than hucows who are better than ponyboys. And we are all better than humans. Have you forgotten the lessons your Sky Mountain teachers drilled into you?”
“I’ve tried to forget the lies they taught us in school, but you keep reminding me of them.”
“Anyway, I’m a human now, so by your logic Daisy is my better. I should obey her.”
“You, a human. Ha!” Explosive laughter erupts from her mouth. “You could be a hupig right now if you wanted to. We both know you could successfully make the transformation.”
“My soul is hucow. I may be trapped as a human now, but someday I long to be a hucow again.”
“Hmm. I see.” Hamma grunts, and I blush, unsure why I’m revealing my heart to the woman I’m furiously angry with.
“I’ll share a secret with you,” she speaks earnestly, as though she’s my mother. “A few humiliating taunts, and a swift swat on the rear followed by intense sexual stimulation is all it usually takes to keep a hucow in line.”
“What?” I feel my mouth gape open.
“You want Daisy to be your bride, don’t you? Then you’ll have to train her to be obedient. If you don’t, she’ll betray your marriage bed and have sex with anyone who turns her eye. Humiliation. Spanking. Sexual pleasure. That’s the trifecta of hucow training. That’s how we convince them to do what we want. You want to train her to love you, don’t you?”
“Abuse her to make her love me. Are you insane?”
Hamma doesn’t respond to my outrage. Instead, she lowers her backpack off her shoulders, unzips it and reaches inside. I expect her to pull out something of significance, something that might provide an answer to my question. Instead, she pulls out a knife. She pulls out her long serrated hunting knife and unsheathes it, clutching its bone handle in her tight grasp. In one fluid motion, she closes her backpack and throws the heavy pack over her shoulders.
She motions with her knife for me to follow her more closely.
Defensively, I reach down into my satchel. It’s designed to hang over my arm, but instead, I’ve rigged it to strap tightly around my waist for quicker access. With speed, I unzip my bag, reach in and pull out my own sharp-edged hunting knife.
I go on the attack.
I clutch my knife tightly in hand. But, instead of slicing into her flesh with the blade like I want to, I attack Hamma with my words.
“You have a cold heart. Ice cold heart.” I shout. “You manipulate everyone around you to get what you want."
I wave my knife in front of me as if I'm slicing her to shreds instead of only screaming at her. “Tell me your master plan. What do you want out of all this, anyway? You aren’t doing this just to keep Daisy away from Magnus. You want more than to try and help Flavius and I make Daisy our wife.
You must have a plan to gain more power, and influence. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. You certainly can't want anything good or pure, anything like – love. You always talk to
me about embracing the love I have for Daisy. But, your words are empty because you know nothing of love. How could you? No one could ever love a monster as cruel as you. You’re a destroyer of love and everything else good.”
She ignores me and keeps marching forward.
I follow closely behind her screaming like a bad-tempered child.
“You’re cruel to everyone. You abuse Flavius. You abuse me. You even abuse your son. You claim you want what’s best for him. You say you love him, but you don’t. How could you? You separated him from the woman he loves!”
Her lack of response infuriates me, and I literally spit as I scream.
“You made Magnus marry those two bratty hupig girls after you went futa, grew a dick and a pair of balls and impregnated them while we were secretly vacationing at the Sky Mountain Estates. Those girls are carrying your babies, not his. But, you manipulated him into marrying them. And you’re making him claim your unborn babies as his own. You’re wicked.”
“Ha!” she finally huffs. “I’ll claim what’s mine. You’ll see. I love those two brats. I love my unborn babies too. They’re all precious to me. More dear than you could imagine.”
“You have a cruel way of showing your love,” I huff back.
Hamma uses her hunting knife like a machete to cut through some of the thick brush ahead of us. As she peels back the broken tree limbs with her hands, I realize she’s breathing heavier than I’ve ever heard her breathe before. She’s huffing and sniffing as she draws in air, almost like she’s trying to stifle tears. The great Hamma cry. Never. I must be imagining her sniffles and dry sobs. Her heart is too cold to feel. She’s too ornery and mean to shed tears.
“I humiliated my best friend. For what?” I finally grumble then allow my shoulders to slump forward in self-disgust.
“Through struggle we grow.”
Unprotected Zombie Dairy: A BDSM Menage Page 7