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Hasan Stone had a keen eye for livestock, and he certainly knew how to judge the hidden qualities of a head of cattle that other people were overlooking.
The heifer looked lethargic, listing on his feet with a sour look on his face. His chest was round but it didn’t hang or sag, as if it were full of product. Instead, it was tight, flushed pink in a way that made you wonder if there was infection.
Worst of all, the soft areolas that capped his tits were flush and empty.
The space in front of his stall remained empty of foot traffic, as if everyone were actively avoiding him.
Hasan knew better than that.
His name and bid were the only registered claim on the heifer’s sheet at the end of the auction, and no one challenged Hasan’s purchase. He paid with a fat wad of bills, accepting the reins of the sickly thing, and marched it straight out of the auction house and onto the back of a truck.
Hasan lived on the outskirts of the local town, on a few handsome acres that held most of his vineyard. The rest of the space was used for the huge sprawl of barns and other facilities needed to manufacture the fruit into an aged fine wine. With the end of winter just starting to creep in, the farm was firmly in a state of hibernation.
Hasan was the only one who stayed on the property year-round. The workers were all seasonal that came in and out as the fruit ripened and then needed to be harvested and manufactured.
His truck trundled over the peak of a final hill, barren except for the empty wooden ribs of the frames that the grape vines grew on during the warmer months.
Hasan whistled a bit of a tune, tapping his hand against the rusted side of his truck, glancing in his rear view mirror to squint through the slats of the trailer behind him.
He chewed on a toothpick tucked in the corner of his mouth, going through a mental checklist of everything that needed to be done once he had unloaded the heifer.
The huge wooden frame he had found in the back of one of the dozens of storage spaces was old enough that it could have been in a museum. It was dusty, and more than a couple of the hinges that held it together had rusted over, but it only took a dozen or so hours of refurbishing to make it look brand new again.
Hasan’s bank account always trickled down ever so slowly during the off season, but he had a plan to drum up enough cash while the seasonal workers took a well deserved break, and the heifer could work all-year round.
The poor thing was ach-ey enough that it didn’t put up a fight as Hasan led it into a side barn that wasn’t used during the main season.
He easily strapped it into the wooden and leather stand, positioning the tits in their proper frames and then rotating the frame ever so slightly.
The heifer was strapped down prone, arms at its sides with frames built into the stand to allowe his tits and cock to hang through.
The heifer grunted, for the first time shifting and squirming, as if he didn’t like the gravity pulling on his heavy tits.
“Easy, easy,” Hasan said, dragging a stool over so he could crouch under the heifer.
He pulled blue, latex gloves onto his hands, humming to himself as he inspected the wares.
Just as he had suspected.
In the center of his soft, pink areolas, there was a divot. As Hasan probed the delicate flesh with his finger, he could feel the tight opening. There was a bit of give to it, promise, and whenever Hasan pressed a bit harder, the heifer would whine sharply, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut as his cock bounced with interest.
He just needed a bit of encouragement.
“Everyone else couldn’t see that you have golden titties,” Hasan said, able to feel the inflamed heat pouring off of the heifer’s tight chest. “You’re just a little backed up.”
He smiled, as if he and the heifer shared an inside joke.
“You’ve just got shy nipples,” he teased.
The heifer whimpered, face flushed a bright red.
Seated underneath him, Hasan was able to take in his looks much more closely. The heifer was deliciously masculine, with a square jaw and short hair. A bright yellow livestock tag was punched through the lobe of one ear and a silver loop was slung through his nose.
His brown hair was a little plain, but his green eyes looked so pretty, drawn out even more with the shine of red, unshed tears.
His cock was certainly impressive.
Measuring it by eye, Hasan would guess it was around nine inches, with a handsome flared glans and a well-defined frenulum. The foreskin was already peeled back, and a hefty set of balls were bunched at the base, the sack wrinkled and loose.
The heifer moaned, his breath shuddering as he sniffled, drawing Hasan’s attention back to what really mattered.
“I don’t think you need lube,” he teased, bracing one hand under the heifer’s left tit to give himself better leverage as he pushed his finger deeper. “You’re not some frigid bitch, are you?”
He cooed the words, making an exaggerated pout at the cow’s tearful eyes.
“You’re gonna let me in,” he said. “Like an obedient slut, or I’ll show you what happens to bad little cows that don’t let their milk drop when they are told.”
The heifer whimpered, squirmed as much as the wooden slats locking him in place would along as he tried to pull his tits backwards as if he could escape Ashan’s probing fingers.
He was backed up alright. Only a few drops of milk, almost burning hot, oozed out of the hole, slicking the way for Hasan’s fingertip.
He could feel the hard nub of the heifer’s actual nipple, buried in the puffy protection of his areolas and hidden from the world.
Hasan had paid tablescraps for the cow, the vender owners thinking him useless in his current condition.
But Hasan knew how to make lead into gold.
“Just relax,” he coaxed, pumping his finger in and out of the plush hole that the heifer’s tits made. “The metal cylinders of the milking machine are thicker than this, and they’ll be vacuuming your nipple like a jet engine to make sure you’re expressing properly.”
The heifer was no longer able to hold back his tears then. His struggling efforts renewed, and he twisted desperately, anxious and nearly hyperventilating as he tried to pull his tits even an inch away from Hasan’s hands.
He was trapped.
His nipple squelched softly, more and more milk eased the way. It seemed like the heifer’s body was more eager about this than he was.
Hasan could feel the mass of the milk now too, sliding his fingers in and out. Each pump in made the ridge of his nail brush against the hardened tip of the nipple, the hypersensitive nerves so sheltered and protected up until this point.
Even that small of a touch made the heifer whimper and whine, tears bubbling in his eyes and he took desperate little huffs through his nose.
He was in for a cruel surprise when Hasan hooked him up to the actual milking machine.
The plush velvet of his areolas was softer than any hole that Hasan had experienced. It made his cock twitch with interest in his pants, but Hasan had to ignore that.
The heifer didn’t really have muscles to actively--or even passively--flex to show his interest in Hasan’s fingers, but maybe that was what made it sweeter when the inward thrust made the plush insides of the heifer’s tits tighten up deliciously.
The heifter’s cock was also now fully hard, reacting to the touches whether he wanted to or not.
Hasan pulled his fingers out, thumbing the little plush mouth that was the heifer’s tit.
A few drops of milk dribbled out, making it truly look like a fucked out hole, and Hasan grinned.
The heifer’s cock would get the sleeve eventually.
Hasan needed to celebrate a good business decision.
He lowered his head, even letting himself close his eyes as he brought the heifer’s tit to his mouth.
It was sorta like eating pussy. It got similar reactions out of the heifer.
The couple days of stubble that had sprouted on Hasan’s jaw prickled the soft skin, his lips meeting the edges where it fell in on itself and made a protective crevice for the heifer’s nipple.
The sweet taste of the cow’s milk burst on Hasan’s tongue, and he couldn’t help but moan. He kissed it deeply, cocking his head to the side to get the best angle as he dipped his tongue forward.
The heifer’s noises softened, his whines turning into needy grunts and then moans of appreciation. He bounced back and forth between trying to pump his hips forward and making his cock sway and pushing his tits downwards into the warm sensation of Hasan’s mouth.
Hasan was more than happy to oblige.
He hollowed out his cheeks, applying a bit more suction to his technique. He was rewarded with a fat mouthful of cream thicker than he had been anticipating.
He grunted in surprise, having to puff out his cheeks to accommodate such a thick mouthful.
It was milk . . . or maybe better categorized as cream. Or maybe it was something wholly brand new. With the heifer being so backed up, his milk had now started to age in his tits, mellowing into something creamy and sweet.
The hardened nub of his nipple just made Hasan more desperate.
He wanted to get his teeth on it. He wanted to drag it out of its hiding spot and bring it into the open air. How many years had the heifer kept them hidden? Untouched and perfect?
Hasan never realized he could feel cuteness aggression towards a body part.
He pulled back just long enough to get a sip of oxygen, gripping the heifer’s tit tight as if it were trying to escape. He dove back down, mashing his face close enough that the fat wrapped around his nose, blocking off his breathing.
Hasan had more important priorities at the moment.
He drove his tongue forward, flexing it into a stiff spear and spreading the teasing hole open. He pursed his lips, applying just enough suction to seal the connection and make sure that every spurt of milk landed on his tongue.
The heifer squealed, jerking and rattling the frame, and Hasan had to smile around his mouthful as he half-felt, half-saw, out of the corner of his eye, the heifer’s cock kick eagerly, as if begging to be next to play with Hasan’s mouth.
He growled playfully, squeezing the heifer’s tit tight enough that the flesh bulged between his fingers. The pressure of the milk made the heifer’s squeal of delight peel off into a whine, and Hasan moaned, sucking in sharply and finally coaxing the tantalizing tit down enough that he could clamp his teeth down.
The gush of milk and relief of the building ache was enough to make the heifer’s eyes roll back.
He stopped struggling as much, as if just now figuring out that Hasan was helping him instead of hurting him.
Hasan swallowed the glut of cream, already feeling full despite barely cracking the seal on the heifer’s yield.
The heifer was still selfish with his product, the nipple buried deep despite Hasan’s hold.
It would take more than a few needy nibbles to bring it out of its shell.
Hasan hooked his fingers into the heifer’s other tit, managing to get two pumped into the tight hole of it while he continued his work on the left.
The heat from the cow was another benefit of Hasan mashing his face as close as possible. It made Hasan heady almost, like a good high.
He pulled back enough, swiping his tongue over his lips to catch every stray drop of golden liquid, and he finally sucked down a breath of fresh air.
Oh.
That could also explain the heady rush.
Hasan could live off the heifer, if that were possible.
Rivulets of milk spilled out of the corners of his mouth, trickling down his beard and dripping off his chin. He feasted like he forgot he needed air, and he already wanted to dive back down for more.
The heifer’s milk was starting to drop as well, the stimulation making every biological signal fire off in his brain. There was something trying to feed off his tit, and now it was his body’s job to provide that nurishment.
The areola that had been tight and shy before now slumped open. A steady stream of his milk oozed out, dripping out of the slack pink mouth at the peak of the tit. It was flushed with interest, the heifer’s arousal making his face red and the blush continued down to his chest.
It wasn’t open enough for Hasan to see the nipple, not quite yet. The heifer continued to insist on nip teasing him.
Hasan caught his breath, not even bothering to wipe off his face before he leaned back down.
When he pressed his pursed lips against the heifer’s tit this time, the eager flesh kissed back.
It molded against his cheeks, pressing into his nose. This time, Hasan was more prepared to lose his air. He dug his tongue in, finding the nub that he needed to torture, and then he pushed deeper.
The heifer pushed back, arching his chest to push his tit down, helping Hasan as best as he could.
The soft draining of the ache that had been building in his tit had to be tantamount to a good piss after a night drinking.
He needed to empty himself, and he needed to do it fully.
Hasan scissored his fingers in the opposite tit, the spike of discomfort bordering on pain making the next gush of milk into his mouth just a bit sweeter.
It would take a lot of trial and error to figure out the best way to get the sweetest milk out of the cow.
For now, Hasan would have his fun.
The heifer was making soft, consistent grunts down, eyes drooped closed as he thrust his hips forward. Hasan would guess that he certainly hadn’t been allowed to be a breeder; no farmer wanted to risk passing down the genetics that made the cow’s tits so difficult to milk.
Hasan might be able to utilize that aspect at some point.
He could have an entire farm of heifer’s with shy tits.
That would come later.
He drank long and deep, figuring out the rhythm needed to drag the heifer’s nipple lower with each pull.
It took effort but he finally managed to wrap his lips around the thick nub of the heifer’s tit, and then Hasan truly felt like a calf under its mother.
There was something so satisfying about having the cow’s tit actually in his mouth.
It sat heavy on his tongue, gushing a fresh squeeze of fatty cream with each pull inwards. All the fat would flex outwards, pressing against Hasan’s face, so each mouthful of milk was also accompanied by the smell of it too, warm and sweet and tinged with a hint of spice from the sweat that was starting to collect more and more with the heifer’s struggling.
It just made him even better to drink from.
Each mouthful of sweet milk made the sweat pool on Hasan’s lips, and then the hit of salt would hit his tongue, chasing the sweetness with a rush of drool and making Hasan even more eager for the next swallow.
He understood why kittens growled around their food whenevery you tried to clean them up in their frantic mess.
If someone tried to peel Hasan away from his prize now, he would definitely snap like a wild animal.
The same warmth that flowed down his throat to pool in his chest and belly also spilled over his chin, but Hasan couldn’t be bothered to be any cleaner about his drinking.
His vision was starting to go fuzzy at the edges, and his chest was starting to tighten, alarm bells chiming as Hasan’s body demanded oxygen along with the milk.
He grunted, refusing to pull away even a second sooner than when he was ready.
He pulled the heifer’s tit down, wrapping his lips around the base and getting as big of a mouthful as he could manage.
When he clamped down with his teeth, the heifer squealed and jolted.
Despite the fact that its body was made to entertain eager mouths, the pain was still something he had never experienced before. He was used to his tits protecting him from the worst of that.
Hasan’s job was to show him how much his body could be used against him.
He bit down hard, the effort wrinkling up his nose and dragging a strangled moan out of the cow.
The milk pulsed into his mouth, thick and fatty, and it spilled out of Hasan’s mouth.
He dragged his head backwards, fighting the natural way the heifer’s body wanted to sit.
With a final heave, he managed to invert the heifer’s tit. Or, rather, pull it out into how it was supposed to be sitting.
The fat finally popped outward, the nipple pulled into the fresh air and milk spilling down the heifer’s front.
Hasan was drenched immediately too, but it was a small price to pay.
He pulled back, letting the nipple drop from his mouth as he worked his jaw and finally took a breath in.
The heifer almost looked silly like that, one tit pulled out and one still hiding. He could also see why the heifer had been so huffy and acting so sickly.
The nipple itself was fat, thicker than Hasan’s thumb, and it would have no doubt been stifled and crushed enveloped by the areola. Getting the heifer to express would have been near impossible, and it took a knowledgeable farmer to know how to make him drop milk.
It looked vulnerable and sensitive in the open air, a divot in the plush tip making it seem that, if Hasan mouthed at that next, he would find another hole that the heifer had been trying to hide.
He licked his lips, still breathing heavy from the excursion.
The other tit was still in its original state--capped and protected.
Hasan would work on that one next.
For now, he had to act quickly if he wanted to start training the heifer’s body for the milking machines.
Already, the plump areola was starting to puff up, dragging the nipple back down, like quicksand or a riseing tide. If Hasan didn’t act soon, all his progress would be lost and he would have to start over.
He licked his lips, already craving another taste of milk.
That wouldn’t be a bad thing, per se.
He would have infinite time in the future to enjoy that product though.
He pushed his stool back, finally pulling himself out from under the heifer and grabbing one of the glass bulbs that was one of the milking machine’s pumps.
There was rubbing lining all around the edge, ensuring an airtight seal around the heifer’s whole tit. At the dome, there was another opening for the cow’s nipple to rest, surrounded by another mouth of rubber to stimulate and milk it properly.
Hasan had an expensive model, one that also had stiff brushes buried in the rubber as well. It scrubbed the flesh raw, punishing the cow if it didn’t have milk to lube the way.
Hasan eased it over the heifer’s fat flesh, pressing it down to the base and listening to the hiss that signaled the vacuum catching and sucking the pump into place.
The cow moaned, feeling the pressure change.
He wrinkled his nose, fearful at this new situation he had never experienced. Hasan hadn’t even turned the machine on, and the heifer squirmed, not quite struggling, but anxious to see what had been attached to his chest and now hung heavy off his body.
“I’ll have to milk you for a while the first time,” Hasan mused, mostly to himself as he idly pumped his fingers in and out of the heifer’s free tit.
He already missed the warm clutch of flesh, but keeping his fingers occupied helped.
He had one last sleeve to attach before he could turn everything on though.
The sleeve that was designed for the cows’ cocks was less subtle in its purpose. Nylon straps were attached at the base, meaning that it didn’t rely on suction alone to keep it attached. Instead, it was hung from the cow’s hips, preventing it from shaking free or pulling out of the demanding grip.
The silicone tube inside was softer than usual. The hole the cow was allow to fuck was tight, but soft. In fact, the soft divut of the automatic fleshlight was similar to the heifer’s tit--soft and so plush that it closed in on itself.
It meant that even if the cow went soft, the insistent suction would continue to milk orgasm after orgasm out of it.
“Someone’s excited,” Hasan teased, finally letting the opening of the toy kiss the tip of the heifer’s cock. “Ooohhhh, big stretch.”
The heifer moaned, eyes rolling back in his head as his cock breached the toy and then sunk into the warm depths.
Was this the first hole he had actually been allowed to fuck? Hasan had to wonder.
Was his little heifer a cherry in more ways than one?
The tube slotted home, and Hasan smirked as he spotted the smallest little squirt of watery cum hit the little collection container at the base. It was so much different than the heifer’s milk. Thinner and less impressive--if Hasan tasted it, it would be more salty and bitter, more of an acquired taste than his milk was.
At the very tip of the fleshlight, the soft yellow silicone parted just enough to show the equally shy, flushed tip of his cock. Each downward thrust made it push in and out of the fleshlight, playing peekaboo and close to earning the next rush of Hasan’s cuteness aggression.
He bent around the heifer, fastening the nylon straps around his hips and making sure that it sat flush on his groin.
The soft squelch as the heifer squirmed was evidence enough that his small initial orgasm was just the start of it all. Just like his tits, he was drooling and eager for it, even if he was convinced himself he didn’t want this.
His body was more honest than that.
He was halfway hooked up then, and it was a good point to start anyway.
Hasan wiped his hands down on his jeans, adjusting his cock, now fully hard, so it angled down one leg of his pants and sat more comfortably.
He grabbed the clunky remote, attached to the main bulk of the milking machine by a thick chord. It only had a few different options for Hasan to choose from.
Nuance was something for sextoys, used by people who needed different settings between one and ten to account for sensitivity differences.
With cows, you didn’t need to bother with that subtlety.
The first thump of the vacuum dragged a noise out of the cow that was some mix of moan and grunt and relieved, sagging sigh as the first proper squirt of milk gushed out of his body.
The nipple swelled, filling the glass pump fully and pressing itself against the brushes and vibrators.
Hasan patted his flank, feeling the heifer’s muscles flex under his hand as his body tried to thrust forward and breed.
Hasan would bet it that after an orgasm or too, he wouldn’t be nearly as eager to have the constant suction and stimulation locked around his cock.
His hands strayed back to the heifer’s free tit, hooking his fingers into the nipple and idly fucking them in and out. It was more a stim than anything, and he didn’t even bother trying to save the few streams of milk that dribbled free.
It dripped onto the floor beneath the heifer, wasted product, but there was more than enough where that came from.
It was just the boost the farm needed, a little bit of income generated in the off season. Really, it was more of a hobby than an actual job. Hasan just needed something to torture to pass the time.
With a click, he turned the machine higher, and for the first time, he was able to draw out a proper cry from the cow.
The rhythmic thump of the machine was like a heartbeat. Each hiss of air was a demanding drag on the heifer’s tit, pulling the hypersensitive nipple down into the clutches of the stiff brushes.
And then, with a buzz, they churned to life to buff out the nonesistent dirt from the heifer’s skin.
The clear plastic tubing was painted white with every squirt, the collection tank near the back of the machine received its first pump of product.
And then, the smaller tank next to it received its first splatter of cum too.
Hasan smiled, letting go of the heifer’s tit and bringing his milk-coated fingers to his mouth.
He wrapped his lips around them, savoring the last little mouthful of sweetness.
Later, after a couple hours of hard milking--or whenever the collection container filled up, whichever came first--Hasan would switch pump to the other tit, draining that milkbag next while the other filled back up again.
There was no reason to remove the pump on the heifer’s cock.
He entertained himself in the meantime by finding a thin plug to fuck the heifer’s other tit.
His fingers always went first, stretching the pink, plush hole open and then scissoring it to make it gape.
It was almost better that the plugs were shaped like cocks, fucking into the heifer’s tit like it really was just another pussy. Each time it bottomed out inside of the cow, an extra squirt of cum would hit the bottom of the collection tank.
They pumped in and out, almost hypnotic. Hasan would have to pay for a custom milking machine for the heifer--one that would fuck the milk from his tits instead of squeezing it.
When Hasan’s vineyard opened back up and brought in the droves of tourists and regular foot traffic that all travelled to his ranch to sample the wine, they would all be able to squeeze a mouthful of fresh milk into their coffee as well.
The heifer would be installed in the lobby of one of the barns, displayed like the rest of the amenities that the guests could pick over.
Hasan would show them how to peel back the inverted hole of the heifer’s tit to get at the hypersensitive nipple inside. Like a little g spot to make the cow squirt. He would show the crowds how just a puff of air over the sheltered nerves was enough to make the heifer squeal in panic, before showing them how violently the milking machine could churn up the milk into a froth just to pull it from the reluctant body.
And all because no one else could recognize the diamond in the rough.