Unprotected Zombie Dairy:
A BDSM Menage
By Miranda Cougar
Copyright © 2016 Miranda Cougar
All rights reserved. This sexy story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This story contains raw hot romance with graphically descriptive language. It is written for adults only. All romantically involved characters are over the age of 18 and are NOT related by blood.
Story Description
Unprotected Zombie Dairy is a full-length dark BDSM ménage with an HEA.
Daisy
Call me Daisy. Yeah, Daisy, like a c.o.w.
Don’t you dare laugh at me or disrespect my name. I’m proud of the name I chose for myself. I own it. I wear it with as much swagger and self-importance as I wear my collar.
You see, I’m valuable. I’m the last living hucow – a celebrity and a national treasure. Everyone on this farm spoils me like the pampered princess I am. Every day I’m pleasured as I produce the bounty of sweet cream that’s auctioned off to the highest bidder, and which adds fame to our farm.
I’m important. That’s why what’s happening to me now is so confusing. First, this morning, the farmer and his wife disciplined me –harshly. How could they spank me? They’re supposed to love me unconditionally. Then Magnus, the man who I thought was in love with me, left me alone after the zombie attack to go rescue his best friend.
Oh, yeah. Zombies attacked our farm. Now I’m crouched in a corner, hiding from the undead hordes. Everyone's usually falling over themselves to give me everything my little heart desires. Now it seems they’ve all abandoned me. Doesn’t anyone love me enough to come and rescue me?
Magnus
My little rebel. She believes I’ve abandoned her to the whims of the farmer and his wife. She fears I’ve left her all alone to defend herself against the ravenous thirst of the encroaching zombie hordes. She couldn’t be more mistaken. Daisy will always be mine. Mine to claim. Mine to train. Mine to love.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Free Hucow Novelette!
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About The Author
Chapter 1
Daisy
“Mooooooo!” The deep vibrating sound of the zombie herd’s morning gathering terrifies me. The herd’s communal mooing travels like an electric current through the air. Its soulful pleading song tempts me. “Come, join us,” the eerily melody croons. “Come, take your place in the zombie herd.”
I’m strapped tightly into my milking machine, so I’m safe, for now. I couldn’t dash out of the barn to become one with the herd even if I wanted to. My farmer and his wife are both behind me stimulating my clit and the slick wetness of my slit, helping me do my best to squirt more cream into the milking collection tubes.
I’ve always loved the way my farmer attentively pleasures and cares for me during my twice daily milkings. Now that he has a new wife, and she is sharing in the milking duties, I’m getting a double helping of stimulating attention. I should be a happily contented heifer right now, but I’m not.
Hucows have been disappearing from the countryside for nearly seven years. One by one, every last Hucow (except for me) from both my farm and every farm in the country has turned feral. Each well-loved and well-cared for heifer has abandoned structured farm life to live wild and free on the green rolling hills of the outdoor pastures.
I can certainly see why my milk producing sisters were drawn to the zombie lifestyle. It’s an attractive vacation from the rigors of farm life. It’s all beauty and frolicking in the bright sunlight of freedom— until it isn’t.
When a hucow first joins the zombie herd, she becomes a gorgeous, free range creature. In the beginning, she bears none of the curses of zombieism. There’s no hanging skin or putrid smelling decaying flesh. That horror comes later — much later.
When a hucow first turns feral, she develops the glows. Her eyes take on an eerie bright cerulean blue hue. The light shines powerfully at night, as the glow of a thousand moons. In the daylight, her eyes simply radiate with a soft sky-blue light. Pretty. The zombie hucows all have big baby-blue cow eyes designed to lure their male prey to their shrieking demises.
The teeth are the next sign of a hucow turned feral. Usually, hucows have milky white teeth and eat human food. We are still people after all. Even though we submit to our twice daily milkings and live most of our lives inside a barn, we have all the nutritional requirements of regular humans.
Before all my friends turned zombie, we used to enjoy our meals at a beautifully handcrafted rustic wood table that was carried in and out of our barn three times daily by the farm’s hubulls. Once seated around our sturdy table with its crisp white and yellow gingham tablecloth and beautifully placed flower arrangements we would all enjoy a gourmet meal prepared by Hamma, the farm’s prize hupig.
I long for the days when I used to sit and moo playfully around the communal table with my hucow companions. I miss our milking sisterhood desperately.
The zombie hucows don’t sit at tables. They eat authentic cow style. They crawl around on their hands and knees and dip their heads down to the ground to tear blades of grass from the earth. Just like cows they chew the grass then swallow the greens down their gullets.
Over time, their constant diet of grass and field greens turns their teeth a shockingly bright shade of green. You can tell how long a hucow has been a zombie by how green her teeth are — that is if she still has any of her teeth left.
The first horror in the zombification process is the falling out of the teeth. It’s a sudden loss. One day a zombie will have a mouth full of bright green teeth. The next day she’ll be a toothless decaying mess.
The mouth devoid of teeth. It’s the point of no return in the zombification process. The point at which a zombie can never be a normal hucow or human again. She is a pure zombie, unable to eat her grassy diet, doomed to have her flesh rot off her bones gradually over the course of days, weeks, or months, depending on how many men she can hunt and consume.
Zombie hucows need to be milked. They are still hucows after all. Only, they don’t allow their farmers to milk them anymore. If they come across a male, be he farmer, hubull or pretty ponyboy — any male at all — they will consume his male essence until they have drunk the life out of him. If they come across a female, they will feed her their tainted milk to transform her into a zombie hucow, further increasing the numbers in their ranks.
Zombie hucows milk each other. Each morning, they gather together on the green grassy hilltops outside the farms and drop down to their sides. They form long winding daisy chains where they first lick each other’s wet slits to stimulate their milk flow. Then, once their let down is triggered, they latch on to each other’s breasts and drink one another dry of their milky bounties.
How do I know this? My best friend Bella tol
d me.
She was one of the few zombie hucows to be captured, experimented on, and ultimately returned to her normal human state. The scientists who helped Bella transform from zombie back to human told our farmer that she can never be made into a hucow again. In her hucow form, the draw for her to go back to the zombie herd would be too great. She would never be able to resist the herd’s powerful siren call.
Our farmer was so grateful to have Bella back, that the day she returned he took her into the farmhouse to live with him. Within a few short weeks, the handsome young farmer fell deeply in love with my beautiful flaxen haired best friend and made her his bride.
She is the farmer’s wife now — and she is doing a wonderful job of rubbing pleasure into my wet slit. With the insistent urgings of her fingertips, she is helping me to release a record amount of cream into my milking machine’s collection jug.
Chapter 2
Daisy
Bella’s fingers slide skillfully up and down the slick line of my pussy. She traces her fingertips in tiny circles over my needy opening. I gasp as she dips the tip of one finger into my hole. I know this is her signal for me to start expressing my gratitude to her.
She has already helped me to release a plentiful amount of milk into the milking machine’s collection tubes. I should be thankful for her help. I should moo out my gratefulness like a good hucow would.
‘Moo,’ I want to moan.
Bella loves it when I moo. The farmer loves it when I moo. I even love it when I moo. But, I like to be a naughty heifer and give my best friend a hard time even more than I adore the pleasurable vibration in my throat as I release a long deep ‘moooooo’ from the depths of my hucow soul.
Bella rips her fingers away from my pussy.
She keeps me inside the milking machine, suspended in mid-air with my belly facing the ground. Furious, I throw a tantrum, shaking my body violently against the metal cage of the milking device. My arms and legs remain strapped down, so I have a limited range of movement. But, I express my displeasure at the sudden lack of sexual stimulation by tugging at the leather straps binding my wrists and ankles and rattling the entire metal skeleton of the milking box.
My writhing around inside the machine causes the stainless steel milking globes enveloping my tits to increase their suction. The soft balloon-like lining inside the metal milking bowls deflates, and I feel the hard, unyielding pressure of steel. I yelp and buck downward with my chest as the metal clamps squeeze tightly, gripping my tits in their hard embrace.
The steel breast bowls are not connected to the metal cage. They hang free-flowing from the rest of the machinery but, pressed firmly against my chest well. They are attached directly to my breasts via a leather corset that straps intricately behind my back.
No matter how forcefully I twist or turn my torso inside the milking cage, I cannot escape the machine’s hard suction. It just keeps sucking. It's two metal bowls tug relentlessly, pulling more and more streams of milk from my still full-of-cream tits.
“What does a good cow say?” Bella questions.
I want to scream out ‘moo’ but instead, I slam my lips shut, eager to make my former barn mate earn her keep as the farmer’s wife. Also, if I'm completely honest, I crave the creative punishments she delivers whenever I play the role of the rebellious human farm animal. She may not be a natural dominant, but Bella plays the part of farmer’s wife masterfully.
Smack!
Red hot pain erupts over my left ass cheek and bolts up the nerve fibers along my left flank and lower back.
Smack!
I cry out in agony as the farmer’s large hand comes down hard again on top of my tender ass. I feel the surface of my abused flesh burn as it flattens and jiggles with every strike. I yelp. I scream. But, still I refuse to moo.
“Obey my wife, you disobedient heifer!”
My lips twist up into a grin as my usually honey-tongued farmer shouts out his fury from behind me. Nothing gets him hotter under the collar than when I refuse to follow Bella’s instructions. He’s hypersensitive to the fact that not so long ago she was just another one of the lowly human animals on his farm.
Only three years ago, Bella had been less than a pet to him. She’d simply been a nameless hucow who’s tits he’d suckled at whenever the idea had amused him.
He’d never even taken her pussy before she’d been returned to him by the government scientists. Back then she was just another one of his dairy producing hucows, not even worthy of dipping his dick inside.
Now Bella is the farmer’s wife — his pride and joy.
His desperation to help her earn respect and successfully make the transition from submissive to dominant shows in moments like this one when he loses his temper.
Smack!
The metal machinery of the milking device clanks loudly as his swats pound into my ass cheeks and force my body to convulse in a mix of agony and twisted satisfaction. I buck against my restraints. The metal domes enveloping my breasts pump my milk out roughly and my tender breast tissues alternately tingle and throb in response.
“This is your last chance,” my farmer threatens. “Obey my wife.”
“Awooof,” I howl loudly like a wolf to keep myself from giving in to Bella’s demand to moo, even though I secretly long to do exactly as she commands.
“I’ll teach you to obey my wife, you rebellious cow!”
I hear the farmer unbuckle his pants as I feel Bella part my ass cheeks and squeeze a cold glob of lubricant onto my clenched asshole.
“You are a cow,” Bella instructs.
She places her middle finger at the entrance to my tight hole.
“The cow says moo.”
Roughly, she thrusts the full length of her finger inside my dark cavern, ripping her way through my clenched ring of muscle.
I yelp from the indignity of being anally penetrated by my best friend's dainty finger. Yes, there is physical discomfort, but it’s nothing compared to the humiliation of knowing that my best friend in the world has her finger completely buried deep inside my dirty asshole.
“The cow says moo,” she repeats as she twists her finger from side to side, keeping it completely stuffed inside my tight rectal opening.
“The cow says moo,” the farmer laughs and pushes the wide thickness of his cock’s head against the bloom of my pussy’s sopping wet opening.
“Say moo,” Bella laughs as she slides her finger halfway out of my abused rectum before plunging its length back inside with such force that my insides spasm.
“C’mon, you can do it. Moo for us, cow. Say moo.”
Bella finger fucks me as she laughs. Then the farmer laughs too. I imagine them both throwing back their heads in glee as they howl and mock me with their taunting words and laughter.
"You are a cow, so moo. C'mon, moo for us Daisy," Bella badgers in a snarky tone she's never used with me before.
Pain. Searing pain stabs at my heart at the mere mention of my name. My breath shutters and my chest locks up tight.
You've both gone too far. The thought strobes in bright red neon at the front of my mind. My name has never before been used for punishment, only praise.
The two lovebirds don't even acknowledge that they're dealing out the harshest punishment I've ever received in my seven years on the farm.
I listen as the two lovers swap spit behind me. The farmer thrusts his cock forward, impaling me with its thick hard length, and I gasp. He drives his dick balls deep inside my pussy with the second thrust. Reluctantly, my throat releases a whimper then a groan. My seldom used hole stretches wide with the surprise of being so quickly and so completely filled with thick cock.
I’ve never felt the farmer’s dick inside me before. His girth is massive. Quite frankly, the sensation of being spread open by such a huge cock is less than pleasurable. My insides burn as they stretch to accommodate his enormous girth.
I’d fantasized about enjoying a double penetration like this for years. I’d even shared with Bella
my fantasies about experiencing a rough dual fucking like the one I’m receiving now. But, now that I’m actually being fucked into submission, I feel sorry for myself.
I wish I’d mooed like a good hucow when my best friend had first asked me to. Best friend. I had to question my use of the phrase. Do I still even have a best friend? My best friend would never plunge her finger inside my dirty asshole and then fuck me with it so cruelly. My best friend would never laugh at me or turn my suffering into a joke.
I weep as I come to the realization that the woman thrusting her finger inside my rectum is not my best friend. She isn’t my friend at all. She is simply the farmer’s wife and nothing more.
“Mooooooooo!” I give in to the farmer’s wife’s command, open my throat and groan out the loudest moo I’ve ever uttered.
Both she and the farmer ignore my mooing. I hear them continue to kiss as they administer my disciplinary fucking. I feel my sore and weary breasts completely empty as the milking machine sucks and drains the last of the milk from my mammary glands.
“Moooooooo!” I scream then weep bitterly, my entire body sore from the harsh discipline and rough fucking.
“Good girl. That’s a good cow, Daisy.”
The farmer’s wife ignores my tears but finally acknowledges my moos. She slides the fingers of her free hand forward and over the hard slippery nub of my clit. While she rubs pleasure into my sensitive flesh, the farmer slows his rapid thrusts and begins to fuck me at a more genteel pace.
To my surprise, pleasure blooms inside my pussy while the farmer and his wife fuck me this way for several minutes.
First, I hear the wife shout out her orgasm. Then I feel the farmer’s cock twitch inside me as he floods my pussy with his hot sticky load of seed. Then, within seconds, I come. It’s a satisfactory spasm. But it’s an ecstasy that has come too late. The brief, fleeting pleasure of my orgasm is not enough to keep me confined here inside this barnyard of loneliness.
“Mooooooo!” I hear the zombie herd cry out as if they were directly responding to my pain.
Unprotected Zombie Dairy: A BDSM Menage Page 1
