Unprotected Zombie Dairy: A BDSM Menage

by Miranda Cougar

  I want to slap her. This is no time to spout ancient truths. I want to block out her voice, but I can’t help but listen to and digest every word spilling from her lips.

  “You’re learning to better yourself and strengthen your will, my child. You’re winning Daisy’s happiness as well as your own happiness too by overcoming these challenges.”

  “I humiliated Daisy to make her happy. You’re insane."

  Hamma shrugs her shoulders.

  "I’m a cruel woman – but, I’m worse than you,” I blurt out what I’m thinking. “I don't have the excuse of being a power-crazy farm queen. I'm simply a deluded fool. I’m foolish for following the advice of a mad woman and agreeing to dishonor my friendship with Daisy by lying to her and mistreating her.”

  Hamma audibly clears her throat. I interpret the sound as her disagreeing with my last statement.

  “You’re wrong. Mistreating the first love of my life won’t make either of us happy.”

  My mentor and I walk forward in silence. The only sounds that pass between us are our pants of heavy breathing as we both hike uphill.

  Since the day I first met Daisy at hucow training, seven years ago, I longed to make her my wife. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had a slight, petite frame with long, luxurious soft brunette locks that trailed in loose curves down her back.

  My classmate was spunky and smart, and an unending source of mischief and humor. She was different than any woman I had ever met before. Tough, but sweet. Maybe it was because she was born human and raised in one of their massive concrete cities. Her difficult upbringing had made her a fighter.

  At hucow training, she was a dissident, always creating her own individual raucous path toward completing her coursework. Most young hucows were stressed and broken down by the strict discipline of training. Not Daisy. Daisy thrived in the harsh environment, and her infectious enthusiasm for learning lifted the spirits of everyone around her. She blazed through training with her unstoppable spirit, and I loved her for it.

  From the first moment I experienced the raw sincerity of her fighting spirit, I wanted to claim her body and her love for my own. But, when I had the chance to love her, I claimed her body cruelly. I allowed my mentor to manipulate me into treating my sweet rebel harshly, instead of with the tenderness and love she deserves.

  I'm sorry Daisy. I'm so sorry for betraying you. I love you so desperately; my heart breaks over how I've harmed you. You’re my princess. No, you’re my queen. You always will be dearer to me than anyone. Except perhaps, for the single exception of my husband. If I had to choose between the two of you, I don’t know what I would do.

  I want to weep bitterly, but I keep my composure because I know I have to. If I break down now, I’ll be useless in the fight to rescue my husband and Magnus.

  I have to save both of them. It’s my only way to redeem myself.

  I won’t live a wicked life any longer. I refuse to continue be a cruel woman. From now on, I'll be my real self; the woman Daisy has inspired me to be. I will be courageous and heroic– like the woman I love. I will put right all of the wrongs I’ve perpetrated.

  Hamma motions for me to follow her up onto a tiny hillside which appears completely covered with thick brush. When we arrive at the top of the hill, I see two large rocks next to a patch of flat grass. Hamma sits down on the patch of grass and leans against the second most massive rock. She motions for me to sit down beside her and lean my back against the taller, heavy crag. I sit down next to her, reluctantly.

  “Give me you knife!” she orders, while holding out her hand to take my only weapon away from me.

  “Why should I?” I question. “How do I know you won’t stab me with it while my back is turned?”

  “If I was going to stab you I would have done it already,” Hamma chuckles at her own joke.

  “That’s not funny.”

  “Stop the drama. You’re acting like an ill-mannered child. Now give me your blade.”

  “No!” I refuse to give up my knife. I remain defiant.

  “Do you want to save your husband, or not?” She finally asks, raising one eyebrow.

  “You know I do.”

  “Then you need to hand over your knife. And you need to do it within the next few seconds. What I’m asking you to do is important. I know it seems like I’m leading you astray, but you need to trust me. I fully intend to save us all.”

  For a brief second, I clutch my knife to my chest then with an extended arm I begrudgingly hand my blade over to my former mentor. In an instant, I realize that trusting her again was the wrong decision.

  “The human is disarmed. Take her now!”

  A rush of fresh smelling, glowing blue-eyed zombies jump out from behind the bushes and come racing toward me. My eyes sprint rapidly from left to right, desperately trying to find an escape route, but there is none. Dozens of surprisingly warm hands grip my arms and legs and hoist my body into the air.

  “I’ve delivered your lost zombie, as promised. Now take me to your queen. We have our treaty to negotiate!” Hamma barks her order at the collective horde of undead hucows who are carrying me off, back to captivity.

  Chapter 15

  Daisy

  “Stop, Swinea! Stop, Pigletta!” I clench my fists and pull back on the two hupigs who are dragging me toward the safety of the farmhouse.

  “Ow! You’re hurting me!” Swinea whines as I tighten my grip on her hand and yank, forcing her to stop pulling me forward.

  “Stop tugging, and come with us hucow!” Pigletta barks while dragging me closer to what she must perceive as the security of the farmhouse. She promised Bella and Hamma she would protect me. She is clearly determined to do her duty— whether I wanted her to or not.

  “Help me drag her into the house,” Pigletta shouts the order at Swinea.

  “But, she’s hurting my hand!” Swinea’s nose wrinkles as she winces and complains.

  “Stop being a baby! Woman up and act like the proud hupig you are supposed to be.”

  Swinea forces her lips into the shape of a grimace, grips my fingers tightly and pulls on my wrist hard, yanking me toward the farmhouse.

  “Please stop and listen,” I beg. “Bella, Hamma, and the hubulls are in grave danger. They’re walking into a trap! We have to act fast to warn them.”

  Swinea abruptly stops her march toward the farmhouse to turn and ask me a question. “What sort of trap?”

  “I think— I think,” I stutter, unsure of exactly how to explain my belief that the zombies want to capture Bella and Hamma so they can lure me out of the safety of the farmhouse compound.

  “Spit it out, hucow,” Pigletta turns and looks down at me with a look of disgust that uglies her beautiful face.

  “Please, hear me out. I know this sounds crazy— ”

  “You have five seconds to start making sense, or we’re going to drag you into the farmhouse and tie you to our bed — like Hamma wants us to.”

  What the hell? Hamma told them to tie me to their bed? I want to ask them why and when Hamma ordered them to do this, but I don’t have time. I’ve got to explain myself quickly so we can stop Bella and Hamma from walking into a trap. I allow my fears to spill from my lips.

  “I’m the last hucow, and I think the zombies want to capture me and make me into a zombie hucow just like them. ‘Come find us. Come take back your farmer and your head stud — if you can.’ That’s what they said when they paraded the farmer and Magnus outside the compound gates. I think they want me to try and rescue them.

  No! Now that I think of it, Bella used to be a hucow too. Maybe they want her back as well. The zombies want to lure both Bella and me into their lair so they can kidnap us and transform us into zombies. Hamma, Magnus, and the farmer will all just be collateral damage. They will probably kill them all as soon as they catch and imprison both Bella and me.”

  “Daisy’s right!” Swinea screams. “The zombies will kill them all. How can we warn them?” Tears roll down t
he young hupig’s face. She shakes her hand free of mine and rushes over to Pigletta’s side to clutch her arm and bury her face in her neck.

  Pigletta grunts and shakes a trembling Swinea off of her. “You truly believe they are in danger?—”

  “I do,” I nod my head, demonstrating my now complete certainty.

  “I don’t believe you,” she accuses. “You’d say anything to make me release you—”

  “I honestly believe –”

  “No. We must obey Hamma’s orders,” Pigletta scowls.

  “But –” Swinea begs.

  “Shush. It’s too late to go running after them anyway,” Pigletta insists while releasing her grip on my fingers. “They’ve already hiked too far ahead of us. We’ll never catch up to them on foot.”

  Swinea’s sobs become violent. “But— but — our Hamma! We can’t abandon our wife!”

  “Hamma’s your wife?” My eyes widen with the realization that Swinea has revealed a secret I am not meant to know.

  “Damn it. Be quiet baby—”

  “Sorry—”

  “Hamma’s your wife?” I repeat, trying to make sense of the new information exploding inside of my brain. “But you two are carrying her son’s babies. You both are Magnus’ wives—”

  “We’re Magnus’ wives in name only—”

  “Shush!” Pigletta hisses at her confessing mate. “We can’t trust her—”

  “No more secrets. I’m done pretending!” Swinea shakes her open hands at the sides of her face as she screams. “I refuse to play games of intrigue any longer. I love Hamma too much. Our wife and the mother of our unborn babies needs our help — ”

  “Hamma is strong. I doubt she’s in any real danger. You two will never convince me to defy her orders. I’m determined to do exactly as my mistress instructs. I won’t be moved—”

  “I’m calling in my favor,” I blurt out, interrupting the two wives. “You will release my hand and help me to rescue Bella and Hamma.” Time is rushing by. We’ve got to stop arguing about this. The women we all love could be in grave danger. We must act now to save them.

  “No. No. No!” Pigletta screams then clenches her jaw and saws her teeth making an explosive gritting sound.

  “Are you refusing to honor your favor?” I push her to comply with my demand.

  “Okay — okay,” Pigletta beats her fists against her upper thighs. “You two follow me — and be quick about it.” She reaches down and unsnaps the tiny pouch on her leather waist harness. Pulling out a single piece of butterscotch candy and handing it to me, she huffs, “eat this; it will protect you from the zombies”.

  “A piece of candy is going to protect me from the zombies?” I ask, incredulous.

  “Please, just eat it,” Swinea begs. “It’s not regular candy. It’s a special formula Hamma invented long ago when she was working as a government scientist. We risked our lives to smuggle this formula out of the Sky Mountains and bring it here to her. She uses it to help Bella. It keeps the zombie hucows from being able to invade her thoughts. It will do the same for you—”

  “That makes no sense,” I argue. “Zombieism is a relatively new scourge. Hamma couldn’t have developed a cure for something that didn’t even exist at the time she was living in the Sky Mountains. There would have been no need for protection against the zombies then—”

  “Shush,” Pigletta hisses.

  First she whips her head from side to side. Long stripes of her black hair strike the sides of her cheeks as she scans the many faces in the crowd surrounding us. Then she glares harshly at both me and Swinea. “We can’t argue about this outside where anyone can overhear our conversation. Come with me inside the farmhouse and I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

  Swinea glances at her wife then back at me before snatching the piece of hard candy from Pigletta’s hand and holding it up in her open palm for me to take. “Please eat it,” she begs.

  The young hupig’s concern for me appears genuine. I can see desperation in her eyes. She truly believes eating this candy will protect me, save me—but from what?

  Hmm, so this little piece of candy being held out in front of me is supposed to me my salvation. Quickly, I mentally work to discover the truth, trying my best to make sense of the new information I’m learning. I deconstruct then recompile the data in my mind in the same way I imagine the brilliant Hamma does. Could these aristocratic mean-girls standing before me actually be telling the truth?

  I don’t want to trust these two hupigs. They represent everything I’m both simultaneously attracted to and repulsed by: the power of the ruling elite. I’ve been trying to overcome the tyranny of their kind since I was a young human raising myself in a concrete workers’ city.

  These Sky Mountain noblewomen are powerful enough to do whatever they like. They can help or harm, be kind or cruel according to their desires. The question invading my mind is: what do these two hupigs desire to do to me now? Hurt. Help. Perhaps a little of both.

  Earlier, these two barbarous beauties had craved humiliating me. Like the farmer and Bella, they’d used my body cruelly, because they could. They’d behaved like the factory owners who’d used my parent’s bodies until they’d used them up.

  The owners had worked my obedient parents 12 hours a day in the workhouses until their once strong physiques grew weak then gave out. And I, their only child was left alone in a city of millions to fend for myself. I became an orphan. I was alone and unprotected, with no one to care for me.

  I mattered to no one.

  I had no family to feed or clothe me, so the city government did the job. Unfortunately, they did an inadequate job of caring for even the most basic of my needs. It’s why I’m so small in build and stature today. If I’d been fed more protein as a child, I’m convinced I would be a much taller and curvier woman now. I might even be as well-built and beautiful as the two hupigs standing in front of me.

  Back when I was an orphan, I never went naked the way I do now. No. I wasn’t lucky enough to be collared and allowed to shine with the glory of my natural form. I was made to wear clothes: worn and faded clothes. At school, my wretched appearance made me a walking joke. Every single day my classmates laughed at my shabby looks.

  Those girls spoke hurtful words. However, they never said their cruel taunts directly to my face. No, the meanness was always whispered in private conversation. But, those conversations were frequently close enough for me to hear.

  ‘Look at poor Laura the loser. She’s nothing. She’s no one. She’ll never amount to anything. So, so sad.’ Their cruel, humiliating words made me feel worthless. They still cause me to feel the stabbing pain of shame in my throat whenever I remember of them.

  Rage burns in my chest over the suffering I’ve endured because of the whims of the elite. Magnus, my first lover, abandoned me because an elite – the farmer – ordered him too. He didn’t even try to come and see me. He ignored his desires and mine, choosing to obey orders, just as my parents had. Little good it did any of them—or me.

  Bella and the farmer hurt me too. They abused my trust in them. Those two kept me hidden away in the gilded cage of my barn for nearly two years. So long. Too long. I’ve spent far too many nights lonely because of them and their desire to own my body – and my heart.

  I breathe deep and push my rage down in the exact way I imagine Hamma would in this situation.

  But, Bella and the farmer have also been kind, I recall.

  Whenever we are together, I feel their devotion and desire to care for me. Aside from Magnus, they have been the only people to ever faithfully meet my needs for food, shelter and sexual release. I have to remember, that just like the young hupig Swinea, they aren’t inherently vicious people. Bella and the farmer have simply been taught that cruelty is the best way of demonstrating their desire for me.

  I must remember that—hold onto its truth and not allow my bitterness over my lot in life to consume me. I am valuable. I am desired. I matter. I remind myself.

/>   I’ve only been standing here mere seconds, but it feels as though I’ve been ruminating for hours. My thoughts dash through my mind as I consider my options. The two more-beautiful-than-me hupigs standing in front of me are offering to help me. However, they both laughed at me when they used my body, not so long ago. And I’m still furious about it. I don’t want to forgive them.

  I also don’t want to believe that eating the candy Swinea is holding in her hand is the solution to any of my problems. But, perhaps it truly is. Hamma did give me a piece of the delicious butterscotch to suck on earlier. And at this moment, I remain unharmed.

  The only clear side effects of consuming the candy seem to be an increase in my milk production and a lack of hunger. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, yet surprisingly, I’m not desperate for food.

  What Pigletta said about the candy protecting me from the zombies’ mental invasions might be the truth. It explains why I haven’t been able to hear the hucow zombie horde inside my mind since I’ve been inside the farmhouse compound.

  At first, I thought I couldn’t hear them simply because I was inside of the farmhouse gates. I thought that perhaps there was something protective about being inside this area. But, now it seems I’ve learned the truth.

  It’s the candy Hamma gave me to suck on this morning that’s protecting me. It’s the sweet treat Swinea is offering me that will be my salvation when I leave this compound on my mission to rescue everyone in the world I care for—and who I’m also furiously angry with.

  I make my decision. Reluctantly, I snatch the candy from the young hupig’s hand, unwrap it and pop it into my mouth.

  “Thank you,” I begrudgingly acknowledge the help the two noblewomen are offering.

  “Come,” Pigletta orders, then takes off, sprinting toward the farmhouse.

  Swinea and I follow closely as she bangs her fists against the house’s side entrance, and the ponyboy doorman opens the private door granting us access. We move with speed across the entryway toward the elevator that leads upstairs.

  “We can’t catch up to Hamma and Bella on foot,” Pigletta barks. “But, we can still warn them of the danger they’re in. We’ll utilize the secret communication device inside Bella’s milking machine. It’ll transmit a short message directly into Hamma’s collar—”