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Calving Up - 4 of 4 (Girlcock Version)
this one'll be three short chapters. I've been real excited for this you have no idea. a happy ending awaits @fawnduu's dear cow Abbi and handler Ty
Chapter 1 of 3 - Promising (AO3)
Abbi practically chirped when she saw Ty step through the barn door with the dawn light at her back.
“Ty!”
Her name echoed in Abbi’s head for every cheerful trotting step she took up to her: Ty Ty Ty Tyyyy.
The night was so long without her. Too, too long. Even with a peaceful sleep in between after being settled by her touch. Even after being caressed and excited and satisfied and filled by her.
She woke up hot and eager this morning, and she hoped beyond hope that today Ty would take her right there in the middle of the barn for everyone to see how so very much she belonged to Ty.
“Hey girl, whoa there, calm down. Aren’t you eager today,” Ty said with that playful tease in her voice that made Abbi’s heat hotter every time.
Oh that was it. Her heat again.
A twist of trouble got in her guts when she remembered what that meant.
And Ty was going to remind her again, she knew it.
She almost forgot about it all though, as soon as Ty guided her to the milking station and got her on her knees there, leaning her over the bar with a soft loving hand on her back, a gentle reminder in her ears how good she was – and she was so so good for Ty.
It tickled every time, the way Ty glided her fingertips over her skin. Ty always warmed up her hands on Abbi’s back and hips and – since that first time Ty spoiled her – as long as no one was looking – on her thighs and her belly too. She always lingered so long on her belly, like she was longing for something, maybe the same something Abbi was. It put an unbearable rush in her.
“Hurry up,” she said, shoving her back into Ty’s chest where she was resting against her.
She could hear the grin in Ty’s voice when she told Abbi to be patient, but it was just a tease because it wasn’t even one breath more before Ty’s warm fingers were wrapped around her breasts like precious treasure.
She bit her lip at Ty’s first gentle squeeze – the sweet coaxing of the first few squirts of warm milk that she always wasted spilling on the ground before she directed Abbi’s nipples where they needed to be, right in her bucket.
Ty had no idea her heat started.
She thought.
But Ty’s chin rested on her shoulder while she did her joyous work and Abbi heard the deep breath she took in her nose. After she let it out, she said warmly, “That time again, hey Miss Abigail?”
“You can always tell,” Abbi said in a little haze. The pleasure of Ty’s touch was getting to her already.
Ty carried on for a few more silent breaths before she said, uneasy, “You remember what we talked about, right?”
All the pleasure felt wrong all of a sudden. That twist in Abbi’s guts again. She shook her head slightly. She remembered of course. Of course she remembered. It made her so mad thinking about it. She wished she could forget. But it was what she was made for.
Ty continued to remind her when she didn’t respond: “You promised me. This time. You need to get with calf this time, or your dry season’s gonna be too long for the farm to bear it. You make more milk on your own than half the other girls combined, and you make it so thick, every bottle of yours sells for twice as much as theirs. Customers’ll riot without it.”
Abbi didn’t respond.
Ty stopped milking her waiting for a response.
She rested her forehead on her arms, folded over the bar, and tried to think about anything but that stupid bull fucking her.
Ty was the only bull she wanted.
It was only once in a long time she’d have to do this but it still made her sick thinking about it. If she wanted Ty to keep her, if she wanted to be useful to Ty at all, she’d have to let some damn useless boy put a calf in her – over and over and over – forever.
How was it fair? How was it fair…
She shoved herself away from the bar and knocked Ty over backwards to storm off and sulk in her corner, which Ty knew damn well meant to leave her alone, but she never did.
“Miss Abigail, you are not done here. You’re just going to be even more miserable with all that milk in you and you know it. Come on back and at least let me finish what you know I have to do for you before you go off and throw your little tantrum.”
Abbi huffed at Ty and refused to turn around. But she still let Ty get close and take her by the collar and lead her back to the station, tugging war with her and ringing her bell with every jerk and grumbling the whole way.
“That’s a good girl,” Ty said, rubbing her back consolingly before she started in again. “Do you really not remember what we talked about? You agreed to it this time because I promised you—”
Abbi’s eyes lit up when she remembered: “You’ll finish me.”
“—Special,” Ty said, to correct her missing word. “I’ll finish you special. You do this for me and I’ve got something real special for you, Miss Abigail, I promise. All you gotta do is let that bull give you a whole two minutes of his attention and I’ll give you a whole week. A whole week, Miss Abigail. I have a special place for us. Told the farm we’re goin’ to a little fair but it’s a lie.”
“What kind of place?”
“Cabin. By the lake. You ever been by the lake, Miss Abigail?”
“ ’Course I been by the lake,” Abbi said, indignantly. Which was kind of true. She’d been on a road near the lake once. Caught a little shimmer of sun on the surface through the trees. Couldn’t be that big a deal. Looked about like the pond, just far away.
But when she glanced back at Ty, the look in her eyes made it pretty clear it was a big deal. Ty was excited about going to the lake. With her. Alone. For a whole week.
The twist of trouble in her gut turned into butterflies flittering around all pretty and confusing.
Just one time with that bull, and then Ty’d be happy with her for such a long time after, and she’d get a whole week alone with her.
Ty’d finally take her right there, in the middle of that cabin, with the pretty dawn light at her back. —Not quite for everyone to see, but it was close. It was so close.
Abbi sat herself up from the bar and turned in her seat to face Ty. Both she and Ty glanced around the barn to check, and when they were both sure it was safe, Abbi nuzzled her forehead and her cheek and her nose lovingly into Ty’s face before she stole a kiss that made her heat gush from her fluttery heart down to her womb, wildly, like the creek did in the rain.
She looked Ty in the eye and gave her a little nod of agreement.
But as soon as Ty left the barn with a wave and a promise she’d bring the bull over later that day, Abbi couldn’t help herself from being taken over by the twist of trouble again.
She went right back to sulking in her corner.
It wasn’t fair.
The only bull she wanted was Ty.
But Ty never came inside her properly like a bull should. She always used that stupid skin. Or when she didn’t, she just pulled out and wasted it all like the first few squirts of milk spilled on the dirt of the barn floor.
Then a little spark of mischief tickled her insides.
Special. That’s what Ty said. Special.
And what could be more special than fucking her properly?
What could be more special than being her only bull? Forever.
After all the times she’d felt the disappointment of Ty pulling out, she was pretty good at guessing when it was coming. But no matter how tight she clenched down, Ty always got away.
But she figured, bulls were always so reliable. Even more reliable than Ty. It was always so obvious when all the disappointment was coming.
A little clever timing with her hips and she could waste every drop of that bull’s seed just the same as Ty, couldn’t she? Get it spilled all over her thighs instead?
Then the second she got Ty alone, in that cabin by the lake, she’d get her something special before her heat ran out.
Then she could just pretend. Make it look like she’d done it right.
#big cats#cow abbi au#fanfic#lactation#breeding#reverse stealthing#trans woman#girlcock#nsfw#for real
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A Better Bull - 3 of 4 (Strap Version)
yesterday I discovered that one of my in-town friends follows my author blog when they told me, "I'm not familiar with the source material but I'm looking forward to reading your cow Abbi fic," and then I died right there and I'm still dead and I'm posting from the grave now
anyways, time for another course of treatment for @fawnduu's incurable cow Abbi curse. this is the strap-on version of this chapter. there is also a girlcock version. I love them both equally. they ended up with enough emotional and motivational differences that they're fairly unique experiences I think, with just a bit of overlap in the physicality of the scene. (hey aphy why is this one like twice as long? because I remembered about sweat being delicious next question)
One Thrust Too Far (AO3)
Ty eyed up her proud strap-on with a little disappointment in herself for it, with a little glance over at Miss Abigail’s wet and wanting pussy. The shapely cock couldn’t hope to compare to a bull at all – in size. But Ty’d never needed a cock the size of a damn bull. No matter how needy her women were, Ty had everything a woman could need. She was pretty sure that’d be true for a cow too, and she wasn’t about to rest until she made damn sure.
Ty set the handsome work of craftsmanship in its harness, stripped herself down bare with her back turned to Abbi, then strapped herself in. Every satisfying clink of the buckles rang like a familiar ditty in her ears, and the hug of the leather around her ass and crotch was like a lover coming home. Lot of good memories were worked into that leather. It was bathed in the sweet juices of dozens of freshly satisfied wives, with days and days of depraved heat seared right into it from whenever a useless hubby wasn’t paying attention long enough that she could get away with taking what was his on paper.
When she turned back to face Abbi, the look of awe in her eyes was enough to make Ty crack a grin. “It’s a strap,” she explained simply. “I’m going to fuck you properly, Miss Abigail. It’s the only way to set you right.”
There was a look of fear in her when Ty got settled on her knees between Abbi’s thighs. She shook her head slightly. Couldn’t take her eyes off Ty’s cock. But she didn’t seem to have any intention of resisting. Good training in that girl.
She said she wanted gentle. Ty owed her some assurance that was exactly what she’d get. But giving her that assurance would require a bit of care and coddling.
Ty bit her lip for a moment considering just how dangerous it might be, letting Abbi get away with something like this, but it was the right way, she figured. With a smug grin, she extended her hand out, offering to take Abbi’s hand in hers, and Abbi hesitantly slipped her fingers into Ty’s chivalrous grasp.
She caught herself marveling at the softness of Abbi’s touch. Not for anything at all, she gave Abbi a little squeeze to feel the suppleness of her fingers. And all at once: Abbi’s eyes opened bright and wide at the unconscious gesture; her ears ticked up a bit; that uneasy downward curl in her lips cracked into a hint of a smile that showed off that cute gap in her teeth; and Ty knew she’d made a stupid damn mistake. In a rush to hide what she’d done, she directed Abbi’s frustratingly soft and pretty fingers to her cock, to give the uneasy girl a better sense of it, to get that fear out of her.
She gripped it curiously. Stroked it. Teased the tip with her own fingertip to make it wobble this way and that.
“Funny looking,” she said at last. “Bulls ain’t like that.”
“Men ain’t either. It’s custom. Always puts a woman’s man to shame when I slip my cock in her, I promise you. I reckon it’ll put all your bull suitors to shame too, if you let me take you right, Miss Abigail.”
Abbi still couldn’t take her eyes off it, couldn’t stop herself from stroking it anxiously, feeling out the length and girth with a hungry look, until her fingers started wandering a little too curiously beyond the base of it and on to the buckles and leather of Ty’s harness.
Ty grabbed her wrist in a rush and told her that was far enough.
Abbi withdrew and looked away, scorned, but only for a moment before she turned back to eye up Ty’s cock again. She bit her lip and told Ty, “It’s real hard. How’re you s’posed to be gentle with that?”
“Trust me, Miss Abigail. I’ve coaxed the prettiest sounds out of the most delicate women with this thing. You’re in good hands.”
That lip of hers couldn’t escape the anxious snare of her teeth, even as she laid herself back again and spread her thighs a little to invite Ty in – to invite her to show off exactly what it meant to be ‘taken right’. She flicked her ears low as a warning and reminded Ty with a pouty scowl: “Gentle.”
Ty replied with a solemn assurance, then did Abbi the routine kindness of letting her get acclimated to the feeling of Ty’s cock by sliding it back and forth over her pussy lips to get it nice and slick with her juices, bumping the tip just ever so gently into Abbi’s clit with every little thrust to get a little twitchy gasp out of her every time.
Oh those gasps.
Ty melted for those gasps. Every one of them seeped down the flesh of her back all sultry and sweet like a spoonful of hot syrup. Every one of them put a log on the fire of Ty’s own heat and made a roaring furnace of her engine.
More. Ty needed more of Abbi’s sweet sounds in her.
Ty realized from the look on Abbi’s face that she was doing a bad job hiding how hungry she was for the girl. Should’ve brought her damn hat. No use pretending now, though. She leaned into Abbi, settling the tip of her cock just so delicately at the entrance to Abbi’s needy heat. Then she looked Miss Abigail right in those pretty blue eyes of hers and met the downy tinder of her gaze with a spark.
“Ready?” Ty asked, knowing the answer.
But Abbi didn’t give it. She bit her lip, instead, and shook her head slightly. Then she put her hand out, pleading for Ty to take it.
Now Ty’s very favorite cow knew better than to ask something like that. She knew better than to get so damn cozy and close with her handler. Some boundaries can only be broken once before they’re never mended again.
But hell, Ty was about ready to break any boundary to nestle her cock in Abbi’s heat right now and hear more of those pretty gasps out of her. She reached. She hesitated. She curled her fingers back at the last second. But a voice in her told her with a damn shove: Abbi needed this.
So, Ty broke a boundary – a boundary broken into every calf for months and months before leaving her mother’s care. To get Abbi right, Ty stupidly entwined fingers with her favorite cow, with a warm reassuring smile that promised to be gentle as she pleased.
With that, Abbi gave Ty a subtle little nod and a squeeze of her usually forbidden hand, then told her she was ready.
With her free hand, Ty dug her fingers softly and sweetly into one of Abbi’s heavy thighs and did her best to spread her, gently guiding Abbi to fold her legs towards her chest, angling her hips to better take Ty’s cock.
It took every ounce of will in Ty’s heart to hold back from letting herself slip all the way in, because Abbi’s juices were so slick and inviting it would’ve been nothing at all to do it. But no, Abbi wanted gentle, and Ty would deliver. She always delivered for her women.
She carefully eased her way into Abbi inch by inch, grinding into Abbi’s insides with the tip of her cock at every new depth, to try to find the perfect spot to fuck her when it was time to fuck her later. There was a real good one about halfway in. Mental note.
Abbi refused to let go of Ty’s hand. With every shallow little thrust, she squeezed – with her fingers – and, from the fierce tug at the base of the harness whenever Ty tried to withdraw, with her pussy too. At least that was familiar. Hell of a grip, though. Ty suddenly had a new sense of appreciation for the bravery of the bulls – though from Abbi’s lamentations, maybe the boys didn’t even know how to get a cow to grip down like that.
It was usually a good thing, getting tugged back on the draw, but Abbi had her eyes hid behind the crook of her elbow, so it was kind of hard to see if Ty was doing anything right or wrong.
“How’s that feel Miss Abigail?”
Abbi took a couple breaths to reply, but she did eventually reply that Ty could keep going. “You can… I want to…”
Ty froze in place and grinned at Abbi’s stumbling words. “Go on girl, get it out. What do you want?”
With a little huff of a sigh, Abbi unhid her eyes and flushed red freckled cheeks and told Ty as direct as she could, “All of it. I’ll take it all. Just… settle it nice and slow in me and let me—ohhh… Ty…”
Ty was fulfilling her simple request before she could even finish it – and happily.
Burying every inch of herself in her faithful cow was supposed to feel shameful, she was pretty sure, but all she felt was pride at how pretty Abbi was moaning for her, grinding herself around on her cock to get herself settled on it exactly as she wanted, and painting the base of Ty’s favorite harness with a fresh new coat of sweetness to forever stain the leather.
Ty wondered if Miss Abigail was the sort who could handle a little extra stimulation with a cock in her. She traced her fingers down Abbi’s soft belly and then, after spreading her pretty pussy lips, Ty pressed the pad of her thumb gently into Abbi’s clit.
She bucked.
She gasped.
She darted her hand out wildly and just barely held herself back from grabbing Ty’s wrist.
Ty grinned at it. “Go ahead,” she said softly. “You can touch.”
Abbi only hesitated for a second before she curled her fingers around Ty’s wrist to keep her hand right where she wanted it, and there it stayed.
So apparently yes, Miss Abigail was the sort who could take a little extra.
“Can I fuck you properly now Miss Abigail? Or are you fixing to twist yourself about my cock all night?”
With a stupid grin, Abbi relaxed a little, and reminded Ty, again, with that scowling little downward flick of her ears: “Gentle,” as if Ty could forget after all the reminders that came before.
Ty nodded to her, then slowly withdrew her cock all the way to the tip to admire the glistening sheen Abbi’s juices had left all the way up to the leather. Then she slipped herself right back in, slowly, gently, inch by inch, drawing lovely little gasp and coo after gasp and coo out of her precious cow, until she was buried in Abbi’s heat again, where she belonged.
“How’s that, princess?”
“It’s good…” Abbi said, though she could’ve said any words at all and it’d be just as obvious from the whiny, needy sound of her voice.
Ty gave her another few good deep churns with her cock before she settled on that sweet spot halfway and started slowly working herself in and out of Abbi just right to hit it over and over again. It was having about the same effect on her as Ty’s gentle fingers earlier. Bucking. Gasping. Shaky legs.
Combined with her work on her desperate cow’s stiff and pretty little clit, it wasn’t long before there was another sharp sudden bucking – but Ty was ready for it this time. And it wasn’t like she could go anywhere anyways, with Abbi’s death grip on her wrist and her hand.
When Abbi was recovered enough to take instructions at all, Ty directed her to turn around to face the wall, and fall to her knees for Ty. She did with a dozy, compliant nod.
Once she was in position, Ty sidled up behind her on her own knees, sneaking her arms around Abbi and cradling her heavy breasts in her hands.
“My women like this,” Ty said.
Abbi nodded again, still in a daze. She was barely there. Ty could probably tell her to suck the sweet sheen off her cock right now and she’d do it without a word of complaint. That wouldn’t be very gentle, though.
Instead, she did as they did every day, twice a day, as she promised to do once Abbi was satisfied: With a gentle kneading motion, Ty squeezed the milk out of Abbi’s swollen breasts.
The mouthfuls she’d taken before hadn’t even come close to finishing her off.
The milk sprayed onto the wall uselessly, but Ty didn’t care about the milk right now. She cared about the adorable sounds Abbi made with every squeeze.
In a soft voice, Abbi complained, “Ty you’re wasting it…”
“Abbi I told you, my women like this. Don’t worry about the milk. I just want to feel your perfect breasts in my hands and hear the pretty sounds you make for me.”
The milk started tapering off until all that was left in Ty’s hands was exactly what she wanted: the heft of her woman’s beautiful breasts. She trapped the milk-wet tips of each stiff nipple between a pair of fingertips, then gently tugged at her to get little coos and gasps out of her. The kneading Abbi’s breasts got for the rest of the night had nothing to do with the practiced rhythm of professionally emptying her tits into a bucket for bottles at the market, and everything to do with building her up for what was coming.
When Abbi started pressing her ass back into Ty’s hips and grinding on her cock, she knew it was time without a word.
She pressed a gentle hand into Abbi’s back to guide her to lean forward, up until her face was pressed right into the wall. Her tail started swishing in an eager rhythm as soon as her cheek touched the timber. Then, kneeling behind her, Ty guided her cock back where it belonged – to the needy heat between Abbi’s thick thighs.
Slow and savoring, enjoying the tightness of the harness gripping her ass as Abbi sank her weight down onto Ty’s cock, Ty nestled herself inside Miss Abigail.
Each delighted little coo that came out of Abbi, it bounced around in Ty’s head and heart and nethers until it exited her own mouth as a satisfied little moan that almost carried the sound of Abbi’s name on it—
No. Can’t go moaning your cow’s name like a lovesick pervert sneaking into a barn at night, Ty. Work. This was work. For her. You can moan her damn name when you’re finishing yourself off in bed if you want to do something so—
Abbi let out a low whine, “Ty…” while she pressed herself back into Ty. And all the damn sense left Ty’s head and body when she replied by snuggling right up into the pillowy softness of Abbi’s back to let out a little echo, “Abbi…”
“Feels good…” Abbi whispered.
“As if I couldn’t tell from all your noise,” Ty teased her.
Then she wrapped her arms around Abbi’s chest in a tender hug so she could get her hands back on those stunning breasts of hers. A different delighted little note escaped Abbi’s lips with every pinch and squeeze. Ty smiled at the whimsy of it. If she kept at it, she might be able to get a whole little song out of her pretty girl. Hell of a talent for the fair. Might get a few ribbons for it.
Ty’d never had the stupidity in her to try groping Miss Abigail like this. Before, she was pretty sure it’d earn her a kick right across the room. But now? Now Abbi was placing her own hands over Ty’s, like she was afraid Ty would pull away, like she was afraid it was all going to stop and disappear.
It had to stop eventually though. And after a while of that, Ty tickled Miss Abigail’s twitchy ear with a command: “On your knees on the bed there, Miss Abigail. Get your ass up nice and tall for me and get yourself real comfortable.”
When Abbi turned to glare at Ty, a hint of indignation in her at being commanded like that, her ears flicked low again as a wordless warning about Ty’s promise to be gentle.
She got settled, but not relaxed. Her chest was dipped low, letting her heavy breasts rest in the pillows. Her arms were crossed and extended beyond her head, and she was digging her cute little horns into a pillow right under her head so she could peek upside-down under her armpit to keep a careful eye on Ty as she approached from behind. Eyeing up Abbi’s thick, intimidating thighs, Ty had a vision of being kicked right off the bed and through a wall or two if she made one wrong move under Abbi’s watchful gaze.
“Come on, girl, relax. I’m gonna do you right, I promise.” Ty wrapped gentle fingers around the base of Abbi’s tail and put a soothing hand on her hind, stroking her and assuring her in a soft voice, “Easy. Easy for me, Miss Abigail, it’s okay. I’ll be so gentle. Just like you said. You say the word and I’ll stop, I promise you.”
That tail of hers slowed over a few breaths, going from uneasy whipping back and forth to a little swish that gently swatted at Ty’s arm to tell her she could let go.
With a warm smile, Ty put both hands on Abbi’s generous hips and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “That’s a good girl. You say the word when you’re ready to take me, okay?”
Then Ty snuck her cock into the gap between Abbi’s thighs. That got a little whack of surprise out of Abbi's tail, but it only took a second for her to relax and ease back into Ty, as soon as she realized Ty was just stroking the uneasy girl’s slick lips and clit with it.
It wasn’t long before she spoke up, quiet and shy. Abbi’s eyes were still locked on Ty, upside-down as she was, when she said: “Okay.”
Ty couldn’t hide her stupid grin as the tip of her cock slowly disappeared inside her pretty whining cow. She wasn’t sure it had ever looked better than it did slipping into Miss Abigail from behind as it was.
With a playful little tug on Abbi’s hips, Ty drew Abbi back into her to get the last half of her length in her all at once. To Ty’s relief, Abbi let out such a satisfied sigh for it. The sound made her own clit twitch and throb against the inside of the leather harness and put a wild flush in her. Those big fluffy ears of Abbi’s were twitching as cheerfully as they did whenever Ty patted her head in the sun of the pasture.
“Good girl,” she said again, with a reassuring pat on her back. “You’re such a good girl for me, Miss Abigail. That’s why you’re my favorite.”
Abbi blushed at that and finally turned her head away from Ty to hide her face in the pillows. She was such a hopeless calf when she was shy.
Ty set to work doing what bulls do to cure a cow of the frustration of her heat – gentler, though, at first anyways. In truth, Ty had never had any intention of keeping that promise the whole night long. Fact was, Abbi’s body needed a good bullish fuck, and it was Ty’s sworn duty now to get her body ready to take it all with a smile.
She pushed the limits of Abbi’s hesitation over and over again – until she was fucking her hard enough to rock her body with every thrust, hard enough to make her pretty collar bell ring out cheerfully with each bone-shaking impact, hard enough to put satisfying ripples in the fat of her ass and back – until Ty needed to keep a firm grip on Abbi’s hips just to keep her from bouncing away.
The pillow was doing a good job muffling her moans. Ty reminded her how good a girl she was being for Ty whenever she did. And those lowing moans of hers were pouring kerosene on the flame in Ty’s nethers. Women don’t moan like that, and Ty had never had such a sweet sound trace loops and twirls in her innards before. She needed more. She needed the satisfaction of a moan that would make Abbi break her promise to be a good girl. She needed to get a moan out of those sweet lips of hers that would tell the world what secret shameful thing she’d done to her own pretty cow.
Ty had picked up pretty quick that Miss Abigail seemed to be rather fond of being brought to the height of joy gently, steadily. So when Abbi’s legs started quivering, Ty slowed her pace and switched to firm thrusts, thoroughly grinding herself away inside her. And that did such a good job keeping her legs quivering and her insides clenching longingly at Ty’s cock.
That spring trap of a hip bucking of hers didn’t throw Ty off this time. She was ready for it and knew to hold on for her life. Instead of throwing Ty across the room, Abbi just slammed herself into Ty, hard enough to ache Ty’s hips and force a little breath of surprise out of her. With nothing more than the desperation of her body, Abbi said she wanted Ty’s cock inside her for every gasp and whine of her little ecstasy.
But they were just gasps and whines. Easily muffled. Easily hidden. Ty needed more – and apparently, so did Abbi. Enough for the poor girl to beg for it in whimpers. Enough for her to thrust herself desperately backwards again, hard enough to make Ty falter.
And again, forcing Ty to adjust herself to continue.
Was that a little giggle?
Ty took her eyes off Abbi’s pretty ass to finally notice an eye peeking at her out from under Abbi’s armpit there, and a wry little grin. Then she was hit with another little bump that sent a rush through her – a rush she sure couldn’t damn well hide and that Abbi was practically tittering about putting in her – as much as a flushed red nearly breathless cow can drunkenly titter.
Ty gave her a smug grin and bumped herself back into Abbi in response, which got a little shudder out of the girl, riding the edge of bliss as she still was. And she bumped Ty right on back, which was starting to feel damn good enough to fill Ty’s lungs with a rush of breath.
It was distracting. Enough to put Ty off her rhythm and lose her focus and put a little shortness of breath in her. She squeezed Abbi’s hips hard enough to get a cooing little squeal out of her and told her to stop that messing around.
But that damn cow didn’t listen. Just went harder at it. And Ty wasn’t about to back off. She swore at Abbi, “Fuck. You can’t buck me off like your bulls, Miss Abigail. Best stop trying so I can finish you properly.”
But despite the scorn, that playful grin wouldn’t leave Abbi’s flushed face, and her hips wouldn’t stop trying to overpower Ty’s.
“Abbi I’m warning you, don’t make me say it twice.”
Abbi let out a breathy little taunt, “Say it twice,” before she bumped back into Ty again.
“Stop.”
“Three times,” she said, again teasing Ty’s cock with a heavy shove that shifted the whole harness around on Ty’s hips from the weight of it.
Ty dug her fingers into the fat of Abbi’s ass to make her squirm, but even that wasn’t enough to get her under control. It was all Ty could think to do, bringing a firm palm down on her hind with her a slap and a command: “Stop. Movin’.”
Abbi let out a little yelp – of joy. Joy, dammit. Ty cursed at herself for her bad luck. She knew this kind of woman and they were unruly in bed.
Just to test it, to be sure there was no hope of reining Abbi in now, she planted another firm slap on her ass, enough to leave a pretty red handprint there the rest of the night, but it was no use. That just riled Abbi up more and put her in a mood to pick up her pace.
Was only one way, then: Ty’d have to drive her over her wits’ end. Fuck Abbi into submitting. Else she’d never get the reverence back in Abbi’s eyes that a cow owed her handler. A cow with no reverence in her is a danger enough to get retired early, and Ty didn’t care much for the idea of retiring her favorite girl so early in the sweet creature’s career. There was supposed to be a lifetime of days and nights ahead of suckling the last few drops of milk out of those perfectly bred tits.
Ty grabbed Abbi’s tail by the base and issued her a firm command to give over her hand to Ty – and whether for naivety or curiosity, Abbi did just that, stretching her left arm back towards Ty.
With a mean grin, Ty grabbed her wrist firm and yanked her back.
Then she felt it: This was no woman like Ty’d ever fucked before.
It put a horrible twist in her gut for a breath. Sharp. Dangerous. Like someone pricked a knife in her belly, leaving a trail of hot blood to slither down her skin.
She felt it: There was no give. Abbi had enough animal strength in that arm – even bent over like that – even breathless and senseless and submitting herself to Ty’s cock as she was – that she could’ve ripped Ty’s own arm out by the socket if it pleased her to do it.
But she still let Ty tug at her meanly. She played along. Whether for reverence to her handler or mere curiosity, Ty didn’t want to know. As long as it meant she’d get to fuck Abbi right, she didn’t care.
She demanded the other arm too, and Abbi gave it over, leaving her face pressed roughly into the pillows. Ty held her wrists like the reins of a riding bull and drove her cock into Abbi hard and rough, telling her: “Done bein’ gentle with you if you’re bein’ so rough with me, Miss Abigail.”
Through a little groan, Abbi managed to growl out a little utterance that sent a shiver up Ty’s spine: “Harder…” And then when Ty gave her what she asked for, she moaned again, almost loud enough to wake up the house. It put fear and butterflies in Ty’s stomach, enough to make Ty pause – and that pause was long enough that Miss Abigail decided to show off all the animal strength of hers by tugging Ty’s arms forward enough to double her over Abbi’s ass.
It sounded like half a dire threat and half a pathetic plea when she told Ty, “Don’t stop.”
She said it again a few breaths later, and again and again in short gasps as her legs shook and her hips rolled. She’d given up on her little game of shoving herself into Ty as soon as Ty started using every ounce of strength she had to drive herself into Abbi like a bull gone wild, driving the full length of her cock in and out of Abbi’s heat with every pump.
Ty’d never in all her life seen a cow so desperate for a fuck. No cow on Earth had ever wanted a bull’s seed as desperately as Abbi clearly wanted Ty’s right now. And it was an ache in Ty’s soul when she realized she had nothing to offer her beautiful dairy cow’s desperately needy womb.
A sick desire wormed its way into her mind and her nethers and stirred something dangerous in her.
The idea echoed in her mind over and over: “I need to put a calf in you…”
Every human thought in her head was replaced with nothing more a dumb bull’s most base desire: “I need to put a calf in you…”
Even her lips were taken over, and some desperate lowing voice in her commanded Abbi, “I need to put a calf in you, Miss Abigail…”
Abbi nodded eagerly.
“You’re gonna be a good girl and take my seed…”
“Yes…” she whimpered.
“And you’re gonna look so damn pretty carrying our girl for me…”
Abbi shuddered when Ty spoke, and then again, in little stuttery waves. She was there. Cummin’ for Ty already. But Ty wasn’t done doing what a bull does.
She clamped down on Abbi’s wrists hard to keep her still and told her, “You’re my girl, Miss Abigail, and the fruit of your womb is mine to sow. Now stay—” Ty pulled out to wait a beat before plunging herself back in, getting a wild shudder out of Abbi, and a stifled groan. “—still—” And again, out and thoroughly in, grinding herself into Abbi’s depths this time. “—for—your—bull.”
With the last word, Ty was taken over by an instinct that wasn’t hers – the instinct to drive the tip of her cock deep deep into Abbi and plant it there forever, gyrating her cock with every throbby pulse of her own clit, squeezing her own innards tight and imagining herself pouring ounce after ounce of thick white bulls’ cum into Abbi’s heat.
Ty was going to breed her beautiful girl, and no matter of biological incongruity was going to get in the way of that.
While she was throbbing her handsome strap of a cock inside Abbi, she finally got what she wanted out of her girl: a bucking moan, so loud that Ty was sure she’d be caught and hanged that very night for the harmless crime of trying to inseminate her own cow. But she still couldn’t imagine withdrawing her cock from Abbi’s heat. She wanted to stay there forever. She wanted to throw every damn thing away to stay there and fill Abbi with seed and bliss. It was the very same reckless wildness that drove her to almost get caught again and again with dozens of lonely adulterous wives – except this wasn’t something she only needed to keep secret from one man. This needed to be kept secret from everyone on Earth.
Abbi’s fingers curled and kneaded her bedding like a cat while she tried to catch her breath. When she turned her head to get a glimpse at Ty – all sweaty and hot and out of breath herself – Abbi’s flushed face was so embarrassingly grateful. Between heavy breaths that moved her whole body with every one, she growled Ty’s name, low and sweet and so very satisfied. Ty’d never seen a woman so relieved at the end of a session.
Ty spread Abbi’s ass cheeks apart so she could truly savor every moment of slipping her cock out of her cow. Her stomach fluttered when the tip slipped out and Abbi made a little shudder for it. She used a thumb to spread Abbi’s lips aside to get a good longing look at that clenching hole of hers, lingering long on the sight, longing for something impossible to reveal itself spilling from inside.
After one last savoring view of her rosy lips and her pretty bush all dripping with her sweat and satisfaction, and one last ache in her heart about not having any hot seed of her own to plant deep inside her favorite cow, Ty heaved a long sigh of exhaustion and relief to calm her breathing.
She crawled up to Abbi’s side and laid herself down beside her, on her side, elbow crooked to prop her head up with her fist. She didn’t even try to hide her smug, satisfied grin. Abbi deserved to know how good all that made her feel.
“How’s that, Miss Abigail?”
Abbi nodded in a bit of a daze. Her body quivered every few breaths. Ty wrapped the poor thing up in the bedding and ran gentle fingers through her hair the way her women always liked after – and squeezed and caressed Abbi’s fluffy ears the way she always liked.
When her senses returned a bit, Abbi glanced at Ty’s strap and asked if Ty was good after all that. “You didn’t finish,” she said softly, an offer hidden in the words.
Ty grinned and shook her head. “I’ll take care of myself, Miss Abigail, don’t you worry.”
Abbi’s ears fell when Ty said it, and that was enough to let a dangerous thought through that had been pulsing hard in Ty’s achy clit, trying with all force to get past her good reason.
After only a single long breath of hesitation, Ty rose to stand tall on her knees in front of Abbi’s face. She took a firm grip of one of Abbi’s horns and guided the doting girl’s lips to the tip of her cock. Then she said, firmly: “Clean me up first, and I’ll let you finish me yourself.”
Abbi nodded eagerly.
Her eyes were locked with Ty’s while she parted her lips and stuck out her tongue to take the tip of Ty’s cock inside her. And the very moment she got the first taste of it, a dozy look took her over. Ty expected even a hint of resistance, but she was able to slowly pump her cock in and out of her pretty cow’s mouth until Abbi had finished doing just as she was told to do and licked every drop of her own juices off its polished surface.
Ty kept one hand on Abbi’s horn while she used the other to subtly unclasp the harness and let it slip down her thighs. Her clit was thick and stiff and achingly obvious. She could smell the musk of her own juices in a heady rush as soon as the leather fell away. When the tip of Ty’s strap slipped out of Abbi’s mouth, the girl’s tongue was left longing, dangling, and dripping with saliva.
The poor girl was clearly aching to taste Ty, but even now she was still holding herself back like a good girl ought to, waiting for permission to touch.
Ty slid her palm over Abbi’s cheek and squeezed the bottom of one of her big soft ears between thumb and curled knuckle, then steered her with her ear and her horn to look Ty in the eye.
“You can taste,” Ty told her. “Once.”
Abbi had been doing a very good job keeping her hands to herself, but as soon as her tongue got the first taste of Ty’s sex and sweat, she got a drunken stupor in her eyes, and her hands crept up on Ty’s thighs – uninvited, but not unwelcome – pressing into Ty as she continued licking up the first real taste she’d ever got of her own handler.
Ty did her best to hold it in, but she couldn’t last. Abbi’s tongue was too warm. Too big. Too soft. Too persistent. Her little hums of satisfaction at the taste of Ty were maddening. Ty tightened her grip on Abbi’s horn and ear and forced her clit into the beautiful girl’s mouth while she got her own sweet release.
Which should’ve been the end of it.
But Abbi’s tongue wouldn’t stop, and her fingers were still firmly dug into the meat of Ty’s thighs. When Ty tried to retreat, one of those hands quickly darted around behind Ty’s ass to keep her still. And when Ty squirmed, Abbi’s other hand planted itself firmly into Ty’s gut and shoved her backwards off kilter.
When Ty managed to get her bearings, Abbi had already sat herself on Ty’s legs to hold her still. That damn unruly cow had also taken Ty’s wrists in hand and forced them over Ty’s head, and that big warm tongue of hers was licking up every drop of sweat on Ty’s bare chest.
The salt.
Oh, that was a damn stupid mistake wasn’t it?
Once a cow gets her nose in the salt, she’s gone.
Ty had two options here. Neither of them was good. She couldn’t hope to control Abbi from this position – naked, no rope, no whip, nothing. So, option one was begging and pleading, and that would be an admission of defeat, an admission of a loss of control. You don’t let a cow know they’ve broken you. That’s dangerous. Option two – the only real option on the table – was convince Abbi that this was exactly what Ty wanted her to be doing all along.
Ty pretended a smile and told Abbi as convincingly as she could that she was being so good. “Get it all, girl, keep going,” Ty said, to encourage her, though she didn’t respond – and definitely didn’t need any encouraging.
She sniffed deeply at Ty’s skin, foraging for more sweat whenever she licked a patch clean. Then her nose dug itself into one of Ty’s armpits and it was like someone had whipped the girl’s ass into action the way she started in.
Ty moaned at the wild sensation of the thick, heavy heat of Abbi’s tongue stroking the virginal flesh of her pits – then she caught herself and tried to shut herself up about it, but it wasn’t any good trying to hide it. She just had to submit to it while Abbi licked her and inevitably forcibly rolled her over onto her stomach to get at her neck and the small of her back and anywhere else she caught a hint of her musk lingering.
Ty was a crumpled, shuddery mess by the time Abbi finally got her sensibilities back and let her go.
The poor girl was all blushy – keeping her distance, kneeling at the other end of the breeding bed, and hiding her face with her hands – when she apologized for losing control like that. But Ty assured her she was perfect, between exasperated breaths.
“Just don’t make a habit of it, Miss Abigail… We give you girls a salt lick for a reason…”
“…You taste better than any salt lick.”
“Well, I hope you’ll cherish that memory forever then, because that was a one-time treat.”
Abbi fiddled with her hands a bit, staring down at her pretty thighs as she did, before she said, soft and sad, “I think you might’ve spoiled me, Ty.”
“Favorite cow of mine deserves to be spoiled.”
Abbi shook her head with a shy grin. “I mean… I mean no salt lick’ll ever taste like you, will it? And no bull’ll ever touch me like you. No handler will. No one.” After a pause for a breath and a bite of her lip, Abbi added, “It’s not fair, only doing it once.”
“You want to go again already?” Ty asked in disbelief. She’d never keep up with her own cow at this rate.
Abbi shook her head slightly, then put out her hand, reaching for Ty, but holding herself back from touching – like she knew she had to do – like she finally had the sense to do properly.
But Ty figured: After all that? Just once more couldn’t hurt. Especially when Abbi was asking with so much reverence this time like she ought to.
Ty paired every fingertip with Abbi’s for a moment before she tangled their fingers together. She was so warm. That little squeeze she put on Ty’s hand was so adoring.
Her words came soft and shy: “I mean to say I can’t go back after that, Ty. To salt licks or bulls or anything.”
Ty glanced away to give that a bit of solemn thought. She had just made things much worse then, hadn’t she? She’d have to do this again for every one of Abbi’s heats, damn it. If she kept it to the night, maybe? While the other girls and the house slept sound? But if she ever, ever got found out doing something like this, she’d be run out of proper society, no matter how much she swore up and down and coast to coast that it was just to get her pretty suffering cow right again.
She dared to let her gaze wander back to Abbi’s pretty eyes and pouty lips and she knew the answer, stupid as it was. She knew she couldn’t just let her suffer. It was neglect, plain and simple. She couldn’t stand to see it again.
“…Fine,” Ty said at last. “Fine. You are such a damn princess sometimes. Next time you’re suffering like this, I’ll put you right myself.”
Abbi’s eyes lit up for a second before she put on a dire scowl to poke at Ty: “You promise? You promise me.”
Ty squeezed Abbi’s hand again and swore on it. “Long as I’ve got you, Miss Abigail, I’ll take care of you and put you right. I promise. —And if you ask real nice, I’ll let you lick the salt off me when I’m done, too.”
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Mastercard and visa have reported to a couple news outlets that they are currently being swamped with calls and complaints. Keep up the pressure and try to (politely) insist that you leave a complaint via phone instead of letting the rep direct you to emails. It's way easier to be overwhelmed by a much smaller number of calls so each one counts for a bit more!
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A Better Bull - 3 of 4 (Girlcock Version)
I'm almost cured of @fawnduu's curse, for sure. there are two versions of this chapter - girlcock, and strap. I'm releasing the girlcock version first but I love them both equally. the physicality of the scene is similar in both, but with different emotional beats and urges (also, hey, fawnduu's patreon has some truly inspirational art of Ty's non-canonical cock and you should absolutely go see that. it will heal you)
One Thrust Too Far (AO3)
A thin lambskin wrap on Ty’s handsome cock should do well to keep Abbi safe if things got out of hand. Not that Ty’d ever had a single complaint about her timing pulling out. Dozens of satisfied lonely wives, and not one kid to tattle on her for it. Fact is though, in the middle of Abbi’s breeding schedule? If Ty managed to get Abbi with child or calf or whatever she might carry for Ty all those months, it’d be a hell of an unanswerable mess to answer for.
Abbi hated those bulls. She wanted gentle. So she had a hell of a look of fear when Ty got settled in on her knees between Abbi’s thighs. She couldn’t take her eyes off Ty’s cock as she stroked Abbi’s pussy lips with the head of it to get that lambskin nice and slick for her.
She flicked her ears as a warning, and reminded Ty: “Gentle.”
Ty smiled and nodded, then asked Abbi if she was ready, settling the tip of her cock just so at the entrance to Abbi’s pussy, letting some of the supple softness of Abbi’s thick lips wrap around her so nicely. And she looked so damn pretty like that.
She bit her lip. She shook her head slightly. She put her hand out pleading for Ty to take it.
Abbi knew better. She knew better than to get so damn cozy and close with her handler.
But hell, Ty was about ready to break any boundary to nestle her cock in Abbi’s heat right now. She hesitated, curled her fingers back at the last second, but a voice in her told her with a shove: Abbi needed this.
So Ty broke a boundary – a boundary broken into every calf for months and months. To get her right, Ty entwined her fingers with her favorite cow’s.
With that, Abbi gave Ty a subtle little nod and a squeeze of her hand, then told her she was ready.
With her free hand, Ty dug her fingers softly and sweetly into one of Abbi’s heavy thighs and did her best to spread her, gently guiding Abbi to fold her legs towards her chest, angling her hips to better take Ty’s cock.
It took every ounce of will in Ty’s heart to hold back from letting herself slip all the way in, because Abbi’s juices were so slick and inviting it would’ve been nothing at all to do it. But no, Abbi wanted gentle, and Ty would deliver. She always delivered for her women.
She carefully eased her way into Abbi inch by inch, grinding into Abbi’s insides with the head of her cock at every new depth, to try to find the perfect spot to fuck her when it was time to fuck her later. There was a real good one about halfway in. Mental note.
Abbi refused to let go of Ty’s hand. With every shallow little thrust, she squeezed – both with her fingers and with her pussy. At least that was familiar. Usually a good thing, but Abbi had her eyes hid behind the crook of her elbow, so it was kind of hard to see if Ty was doing anything right or wrong.
“How’s that feel Miss Abigail?”
Abbi took a couple breaths to reply, but she did eventually reply that Ty could keep going. “You can… I want to…”
Ty froze in place and grinned at Abbi’s stumbling words. “Go on girl, get it out. What do you want?”
With a little huff of a sigh, Abbi unhid her eyes and told Ty as direct as she could, “All of it. Just settle it nice and slow in me and let me—ohhh… Ty…”
Ty was fulfilling her simple request before she could even finish it – and happily. Burying every inch of herself in her faithful cow was supposed to feel shameful, she was pretty sure, but all she felt was pride at how pretty Abbi was moaning for her, grinding herself around on her cock to get herself settled on it exactly as she wanted.
Ty could feel the tickle of Abbi’s pretty bush as she was grinding it into Ty’s. There was something so intimate about that that made her stomach flutter and her cock twitch so damn happily about it.
Ty wondered if Miss Abigail was the sort who could handle a little extra stimulation with a cock in her. She traced her fingers down Abbi’s soft belly and then, after spreading her pretty pussy lips, Ty pressed the pad of her thumb gently into Abbi’s clit.
She bucked.
She gasped.
She darted her hand out wildly and just barely held herself back from grabbing Ty’s wrist.
Ty grinned at it. “Go ahead,” she said softly. “You can touch.”
Abbi only hesitated for a second before she curled her fingers around Ty’s wrist to keep her hand right where she wanted it, and there it stayed.
So apparently yes, Miss Abigail was the sort who could take a little extra.
“Can I fuck you properly now Miss Abigail? As much as I love being buried in your pretty pussy so deep, I need a little more stimulation if you want to keep going for long.”
“Gentle,” Abbi reminded her again, as if she could forget after all the reminders that came before.
Ty nodded to her, then slowly withdrew her cock all the way to the tip to admire the glistening sheen Abbi’s juices had left all the way up to the base of the lambskin. Then she slipped herself right back in, slowly, gently, inch by inch, until she was buried in Abbi again. “How’s that, princess?”
“It’s good…” Abbi said, though she could’ve said any words at all and it’d be just as obvious from the whiny, needy sound of her voice.
Ty gave her another few good deep churns with her cock before she settled on that sweet spot halfway and started slowly working herself in and out of Abbi just right to hit that spot over and over again. It was having about the same effect on her as Ty’s gentle fingers earlier. Bucking. Gasping. Shaky legs.
Combined with her work on her desperate cow’s stiff and pretty little clit, it wasn’t long before there was another sharp sudden bucking – but Ty was ready for it this time. And it wasn’t like she could go anywhere anyways, with Abbi’s death grip on her wrist and her hand.
When Abbi was recovered enough to take instructions at all, Ty directed her to turn around to face the wall, and fall to her knees for Ty. She did with a dozy, compliant nod.
Once she was in position, Ty sidled up behind her on her own knees, sneaking her arms around Abbi and cradling her heavy breasts in her hands.
“My women like this,” Ty said.
Abbi nodded again, still in a daze. She was barely there. Ty could probably tell her to choke on her cock right now and she’d do it without a word of complaint. That wouldn’t be very gentle, though.
Instead, she did as they did every day, twice a day, as she promised to do once Abbi was satisfied: With a gentle kneading motion, Ty squeezed the milk out of Abbi’s swollen breasts.
The mouthfuls she’d taken before hadn’t even come close to finishing her off.
The milk sprayed onto the wall uselessly, but Ty didn’t care about the milk right now. She cared about the adorable sounds Abbi made with every squeeze.
In a soft voice, Abbi complained, “Ty you’re wasting it…”
“Abbi I told you, my women like this. Don’t worry about the milk. I just want to feel your perfect breasts in my hands and hear the pretty sounds you make for me.”
The milk started tapering off until all that was left in Ty’s hands was exactly what she wanted: the heft of her woman’s beautiful breasts. She trapped the tips of each stiff nipple between a pair of fingertips, then gently tugged at her to get little coos and gasps out of her. The kneading Abbi’s breasts got for the rest of the night had nothing to do with the practiced rhythm of professionally emptying her tits into a bucket for bottles at the market, and everything to do with building her up for what was coming.
When Abbi started pressing her ass back into Ty’s hips and grinding on her cock, she knew it was time without a word.
She pressed a gentle hand into Abbi’s back to guide her to lean forward, up until her face was pressed right into the wall. Her tail started swishing in an eager rhythm as soon as her cheek touched the timber. Then, kneeling behind her, Ty guided her cock where it belonged – to the needy heat between Abbi’s thick thighs.
Slow and savoring, Ty nestled herself inside. She couldn’t help letting out a little moan of her own about how perfect Miss Abigail felt.
She snuggled right up into the pillowy softness of Abbi’s back, wrapping her arms around her in a tender hug so she could get her hands back on those stunning breasts of hers, and all the while she was working Abbi’s chest, she worked her own hips in little circles to make that sweet girl moan for her.
Ty’d never had the stupidity in her to try groping Miss Abigail like this. Before, she was pretty sure it’d earn her a kick right across the room. But now? Now Abbi was placing her own hands over Ty’s, like she was afraid Ty would pull away, like she was afraid it was all going to stop and disappear.
It had to stop eventually though. After a while of that, Ty tickled Miss Abigail’s twitchy ear with a command: “On your knees on the bed there, Miss Abigail. Get your ass up nice and tall for me and get yourself real comfortable.”
When Abbi turned to glare at Ty, a hint of indignation in her at being commanded like that, her ears flicked again as a wordless warning about Ty’s promise to be gentle.
She got settled, but not relaxed. Her chest was dipped low, letting her heavy breasts rest in the pillows. Her arms were crossed and extended beyond her head, and she was digging her cute little horns into a pillow right under her head so she could peek upside-down under her armpit to keep a careful eye on Ty as she approached from behind. Eyeing up Abbi’s thick, intimidating thighs, Ty had a vision of being kicked right off the bed and through a wall or two if she made one wrong move under Abbi’s watchful gaze.
“Come on, girl, relax. I’m gonna do you right, I promise.” Ty wrapped gentle fingers around the base of Abbi’s tail and put a soothing hand on her hind, stroking her and assuring her in a soft voice, “Easy. Easy for me, Miss Abigail, it’s okay. I’ll be so gentle. Just like you said. You say the word and I’ll stop, I promise you.”
That tail of hers slowed over a few breaths, going from uneasy whipping back and forth to a little swish that gently swatted at Ty’s arm to tell her she could let go.
With a warm smile, Ty put both hands on Abbi’s generous hips and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “That’s a good girl. You say the word when you’re ready to take me, okay?”
Then Ty snuck her cock into the gap between Abbi’s thighs. That got a little whack of surprise out of Abbi's tail, but it only took a second for her to relax and ease back into Ty, as soon as she realized Ty was just stroking the uneasy girl’s slick lips and clit with it.
It wasn’t long before she spoke up, quiet and shy. Abbi’s eyes were still locked on Ty, upside-down as she was, when she said, “Okay.”
Ty couldn’t hide her stupid grin. The head of her cock slowly disappeared inside her pretty whining cow. She wasn’t sure her cock had ever looked better than it did slipping into Miss Abigail as it was.
With a playful little tug on Abbi’s hips, Ty drew Abbi back into her to get the last few inches of herself in her all at once. To Ty’s relief, Abbi let out such a satisfied sigh for it. The sound made her cock twitch and put a wild flush in her. Those big fluffy ears of Abbi’s were twitching as cheerfully as they did whenever Ty patted her head in the sun of the pasture.
“Good girl,” she said again, with a reassuring pat on her back. “You’re such a good girl for me, Miss Abigail. That’s why you’re my favorite.”
Abbi blushed at that and finally turned her head away from Ty to hide her face in the pillows. She was such a hopeless calf when she was shy.
Ty set to work doing what bulls do to cure a cow of the frustration of her heat – gentler, though. But in truth, Ty had never had any intention of keeping that promise the whole night long. Fact was Abbi’s body needed a good bullish fuck, and it was Ty’s sworn duty now to get her body ready to take it all with a smile.
She pushed the limits of Abbi’s hesitation over and over again – until she was fucking her hard enough to rock her body with every thrust, hard enough to make her pretty collar bell ring out cheerfully with each bone-shaking impact, hard enough to put satisfying ripples in the fat of her ass and back – until Ty needed to keep a firm grip on Abbi’s hips just to keep her from bouncing away.
The pillow was doing a good job muffling her moans. Ty reminded her how good a girl she was being for Ty whenever she did.
Now Ty had picked up pretty quick that Miss Abigail seemed to be rather fond of being brought to the height of joy gently, steadily. So when Abbi’s legs started quivering, Ty slowed her pace and switched to firm thrusts, thoroughly grinding herself away inside her. And that did such a good job keeping her legs quivering and her insides clenching longingly at Ty’s cock.
That spring trap of a hip bucking of hers didn’t throw Ty off this time. She was ready for it and knew to hold on for her life. And so instead of throwing Ty across the room, Abbi slammed herself into Ty, hard enough to ache Ty’s hips. With nothing more than the desperation of her body, she said she wanted Ty’s throbbing cock inside her for every gasp and whine of her little ecstasy.
Now even going slow as she was, Ty was getting awfully close to her own little ecstasy. The throbbing of her cock wasn’t for nothing. And, lambskin wrap or not, she had to pull out before she came. She had to. If something went wrong, it’d be a disaster.
But Abbi clearly didn’t want her to. Not from how firm she kept shoving her ass back into Ty’s hips whenever she tried to draw away.
And to be truthful, Ty wanted it just as bad.
And it wasn’t just want. Abbi needed Ty to satisfy her properly tonight – and the only way to do it right was to do it right to the end – to finish with a bold final thrust deep inside her, just the way her body craved.
The wrap was holding, right? For sure it was. Ty could feel the thing miserably dulling the whole experience. It was holding.
Ty had never actually done that, though – never released everything she had to give in a woman, even with a skin on. The lambskin she carried around for the lonely women in town was always a special just-in-case sort of thing, when they needed a little extra assurance the first time or two, a demonstration of how so very trustworthy Ty’s techniques were.
The sudden rush of her first time being with her own beautiful girl, so doting as she was, so trusting, so needy, it put a hint of the feral in her, body and mind.
Her grip tightened on Abbi’s soft hips. She wasn’t going anywhere now. This was destiny.
Abbi was already a beautiful sight, but for a moment Ty closed her eyes and caught a wild vision of Abbi, swollen with child, swollen with Ty’s child, and that put her right over the edge with a wild uncontrollable bucking of her hips.
Then, for the first time, instead of safely pulling out, instead of covering her woman’s beautiful back and thighs with her seed, she buried herself deep inside Abbi like an animal in a rut, like she’d seen those bulls do for their own breeding mates.
And now she was doing it too – breeding Abbi, like no bull could ever do for the picky princess.
Ty’s feral instincts begged her to rip off the lambskin, to do it right, like Abbi deserved, like a beast unleashed.
Lucky for Ty, it was too late to do something so stupid. Her cock was already twitching away inside Abbi, unleashing spurt after spurt of hot cum, so dangerously close to Abbi’s fertile, longing womb. The only thing separating her from disaster was a thin sheath of animal gut – and Ty so desperately wanted the thing to tear itself apart – so desperately that she started grinding her cock into Abbi all wild and rough, trying to weather the thing down to nothing.
But when she pulled out at last, the damn wrap had held true. It felt more wasteful than letting Abbi’s sweet milk spill on the ground. She slipped it off and turned it over to let the hot seed paint the pretty, silky skin of Abbi’s ass in thick, affectionate, white globs. When she was done, she tossed the lambskin aside and admired just how good she looked like that, covered in Ty’s cum, marked for Ty alone with her scent. Even if Abbi couldn’t take it properly, that little concession made Ty’s stomach flutter stupidly.
Abbi’s fingers curled and kneaded her bedding like a cat while she tried to catch her breath. When she turned her head to get a glimpse at Ty – all sweaty and hot and out of breath herself – Abbi’s flushed face was so embarrassingly grateful. Between heavy breaths that moved her whole body with every one, she growled Ty’s name, low and sweet and so very satisfied. Ty’d never seen a woman so relieved at the end of a session.
She spread Abbi’s ass cheeks apart for one last longing view of her rosy lips and her pretty bush all dripping with her sweat and satisfaction, and to feel one last ache in her heart about not planting her hot seed deep inside Abbi. Then she heaved a long sigh of exhaustion and relief to calm her breathing.
She crawled up to Abbi’s side and laid herself down beside her, on her side, elbow crooked to prop her head up with her fist. She didn’t even try to hide her smug, satisfied grin. Abbi deserved to know how good all that made her feel.
“How’s that, Miss Abigail?”
Abbi nodded in a bit of a daze. Her body quivered every few breaths. Ty wrapped the poor thing up in the bedding and ran gentle fingers through her hair the way her women always liked after – and squeezed and caressed Abbi’s fluffy ears the way she always liked.
When her senses returned a bit, Abbi glanced at Ty’s cum-stained cock and asked if she really did it.
Ty grinned and shook her head. “Sorry to say I managed to keep my head on my shoulders and that wrap on my cock there that whole time. But some wild thoughts did bubble up in my brain, let me tell you.”
Ty couldn’t quite read Abbi’s grin. Some mix of sadness and gratitude that put a little twist in Ty’s gut.
“So how’d I do Miss Abigail? Better than a bull?”
“Better than anything. You always spoil me so.”
“Favorite cow of mine deserves to be spoiled.”
Abbi shook her head with a blushy grin. “I mean… I mean no one else’ll ever touch me like you.” After a pause for a breath and a bite of her lip, Abbi added, “It’s not fair to only do it once.”
“You want to go again already?”
Abbi put out her hand, reaching for Ty, but holding herself back from touching, like she knew she had to do.
Ty figured just once more couldn’t hurt, though. Her women liked to hold hands after too.
She paired every fingertip with Abbi’s for a moment before she tangled their fingers together. She was so warm. That little squeeze she put on Ty’s hand was so adoring. Her words came soft and shy: “I mean to say I can’t go back to bulls or anything after that, Ty.”
Ty glanced away to give that a bit of solemn thought. She had just made things much worse then, hadn’t she? She’d have to do this again for every one of Abbi’s heats, damn it. If she kept it to the night, maybe? While the other girls and the house slept sound? But if she ever, ever got found out doing something like this, she’d be run out of proper society, no matter how much she swore up and down and coast to coast that it was just to get her pretty suffering cow right again.
She dared to let her gaze wander back to Abbi’s pretty eyes and pouty lips and she knew the answer, stupid as it was. She knew she couldn’t just let her suffer. It was neglect, plain and simple. She couldn’t stand to see it again.
“…Fine,” Ty said at last. “Fine. You are such a damn princess sometimes. Next time you’re suffering like this, I’ll put you right myself.”
Abbi’s eyes lit up for a second before she put on a dire scowl to poke at Ty: “You promise? You promise me.”
Ty squeezed Abbi’s hand again and swore on it. “Long as I’ve got you, Miss Abigail, I’ll take care of you and put you right. I promise.”
The very next afternoon, one of the hands was asking around the farm about something. When Ty approached to see what all the fuss was about, she saw it: held in a rag in the hand’s hand – the lambskin – used and dried out overnight. The poor mistaken woman was sure it was evidence of some depraved cattle thief who must’ve scared every one of the girls quiet about what he’d done to them.
Ty nodded along with that unprovable theory and did her damn best not to turn red and hot about it. The only relief she could get from the flush and racing heartbeat, though, was retreating to the shade behind the house to wipe her brow and curse at herself. What a damn stupid mistake.
But all it meant was she’d have to be more careful next time, because she sure as hell wasn’t stopping. Abbi needed her.
#big cats#cow abbi au#fanfic#lactation#condom use#trans woman#girlcock#nsfw#again cannot emphasize enough how nsfw this is
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A Better Bull - 2 of 4
hey I'm still unwell and losing sleep about Ty treating cow-girl Abbi so nice. surely writing a depraved fic about it will get the worms out. in case you missed it, this is all in response to @fawnduu's AU fanart of her own sapphic western romance Big Cats which is already so damn good
Warming Up (AO3)
The oil was real plain that Ty was used to using to keep the cattle’s skin soft, pretty, and smooth as silk. Unscented, and cheap by the gallon at the farm store, but good quality. Got every girl through even the driest month of winter without a single blemish on their skin. Kept their nipples from chaffing real well too, even at the peak of their production.
The oil she was presently massaging into Miss Abigail’s thighs cost more than a few good buckets of her milk at the market just for a little tin of it. Vanilla and cinnamon. Worth every penny for how well it warmed up any woman she got her hands on the shoulders of. Practically undid bodices and slipped skirts up all on its own.
Ty’d heard moaning out of Abbi before, but never the sounds she was making while Ty’s hands worked the muscles beneath the soft, pillowy rolls of her back and hind like dough. Sounded like she was finally laying herself out after a three-day hike.
And whenever Ty teased her, spreading her ass a bit for a peek, she made a delightful giggly coo and rolled her hips a little in anticipation.
That body of hers was enough to drive any horny kid to stupidity, but those sounds. Those sounds would echo in Ty’s dreams.
Now seeing as Abbi wanted everything Ty gave that farmer’s poor neglected wife, that included this – the Premium Adulterer’s Package. Massage, flirty compliments, teasing caresses – though normally her ‘clients’ weren’t bare naked at this point in the massage. Abbi was eager. Ty found her lounging like this in her breeding bed when she snuck into the barn, after the sun dipped low enough below the horizon to hide the blue of the sky.
The secretive lantern light was making a sultry mood of the barn. Abbi had been splayed out like a princess on luxurious sheets and surrounded by so many pillows you could get lost for weeks in a pile of ’em. Half of those pillows were propping up Abbi at so delightful an angle when Ty came in, giving her the look of some pretty woman in some old painting Ty saw hanging on the bedroom of a wealthy wife she’d been servicing a year back.
She’d done just as Ty asked when she came in and rolled over for her for the massage, still propped up on pillows to get comfy. The new pose put her ass up just right, and practically put Ty in a rut just thinking about burying herself in the shadows there.
“You have such pretty skin,” Ty said while her fingers were deeply meshed with the luxurious fat sitting so nice around Abbi’s waist.
“Because of you,” Abbi said softly.
“Oh I think you can probably thank your dam for that one, Miss Abigail. She must’ve been awful special to make a girl like you.”
“My dam never took care of me. You do.”
Abbi rolled over, interrupting the massage, in a way that put a knee pointing to the loft, while her other leg curled around Ty where she was kneeling on the bed. Even over the seductive scent of the massage oil, the heady fragrance of the wetness between Abbi’s thighs was overpowering when she presented herself like that for Ty. She tried, but it was impossible to stop her eyes from wandering down to Abbi’s glistening, rosy treasure. She was already so excited about all this and Ty had barely started. Ty could barely pry her eyes away to continue on with her massage – and even then, only because she promised herself she’d have the whole night down between Miss Abigail’s heavenly thighs to make up for it.
And damn Abbi’s treasure for stealing Ty’s attention, because that pretty cow’s dozy smile was even more intoxicating than the scent of her heat. Ty’d never been looked at by a woman like that before. She was used to looks of ‘fuck me now’ and ‘thank God in heaven for your tongue’ and ‘you better not tell a damn soul’.
Abbi’s eyes said words Ty didn’t like even thinking. Soft words. Forever words. Felt like a damn trap, but Ty was already snared in steel jaws here.
“What you looking so soft at me for?” Ty teased her with a grin.
Abbi’s smile got so big it crinkled her eyes with joy, but she didn’t answer any more than to shake her head and blush and reach out to beckon for Ty’s hands to continue touching her.
Ty glided her fingertips over Miss Abigail’s breasts. She was so swollen with milk. It’d been days. Even without any work from Ty, a little milk was spilling out of her now with every few breaths she took. The sheets under her had little wet spots forming from where her breasts hung while she’d been turned around for that massage.
Abbi shivered at Ty’s touch, and looked at her with whimpering pleading eyes.
Ty smirked. “Well that’s not how the deal was supposed to go, was it? I thought we said a good tending to and then a good milking. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Abbi bit her lip while her sharp pupils darted about between Ty’s eyes and lips and hands, and her own achy breasts.
She conceded and told Ty that she could milk her a little: “If you drink every drop,” she said, with an air of finality that made it clear it wasn’t up for debate.
“Shame to waste all that,” Ty said shaking her head slightly.
“You don’t like it?”
“Now I never said that.”
“How’s it a waste then?”
“Could be selling it, is all.”
Abbi gave Ty an earnest look and a solemn request: “I want you to have it all tonight, Ty. Please.”
Ty grinned again and told Abbi it’d be tough to swallow every drop of all that was in her after days holding out, “But just for you, princess, I’ll give it a shot.”
Ty crawled up on Miss Abigail until her own hips were pressing firm enough into the soft, warm, welcoming hug of her thighs to part them slightly. She teased the poor cow’s aching, desperate heat by nudging the soft mound of her pussy with her own pelvic bone through her jeans. Then, leaving Abbi hopelessly curling her hips up to chase after Ty’s retreating presence, Ty dipped her lips to one of Abbi’s nipples and tugged at it with a gentle kiss.
Even that was enough to get her flowing.
Abbi’s breasts were big enough to take with two hands, but Ty figured she’d start with one. The angle was awkward this time. Easier milking her from behind, leaning her over her bucket at the milking station. Ty had finished Abbi off from the front, almost every day, but never in all the time she’d been taking care of Abbi had she started her from the front. So it was a hell of a shock, when she gave Miss Abigail’s breast a little coaxing squeeze, to find a sudden eruption of hot milk all over her face and neck. She barely closed her eyes in time.
With a grin, Ty teased her: “Look at what you’ve done to yourself. So full of milk you’re making a mess of your handler like this.” While she spoke, she collected the thick white drops off her cheeks with her fingers, then punctuated that teasing little jab by licking Abbi’s sweetness off her knuckles. She kept Abbi’s gaze in hers the whole time, getting a blushy bashful smile for it.
Abbi didn’t offer any kind of apology for the mess. And Ty didn’t want one anyways. Something fluttered in her innards to feel the heat of Abbi’s milk on her skin, dripping stupidly as it was off her brow and chin and the tip of her nose until she wiped it all off.
Abbi’s hands reached out uncertainly for Ty’s face. She knew better than to touch, but she still beckoned Ty to return to her work with needy curling fingers that just barely missed Ty’s cheeks.
With one hand, Ty coaxed the bounty out of Abbi’s heavy breasts in turns, drawing out and swallowing hot mouthfuls of her at a time. The other hand, she set about exploring after the other bounty in Abbi – those ample soft curves that decorated every inch of Abbi’s beautiful body – curves that Ty was aching to touch and squeeze so nice as she deserved.
She started with Abbi’s cute belly that hung so nice from her frame whenever Ty got the pleasure of looking. A slip of her fingers and she was grasping Abbi’s hip, imagining how good she’d feel in both hands when she finally got her cock buried in Abbi’s heat like she was aching to do. At last, she curled her hand around Abbi’s back, to hold her in half an embrace while she worked her breasts.
Every time she sunk her palm and fingers into the cooing cow’s joyous fat, the pretty girl she was, she made such a pretty, satisfied little hum about it, and pressed herself into Ty.
Abbi was right. There wasn’t a bull on Earth that could do this for her. If this was the sort of treatment she needed to sort her heat out, no surprise she was making such a fuss of being neglected. And it sure seemed like neglect now, seeing it, for Ty to leave poor Miss Abigail to suffer in the frustration of her heat over and over like she had.
With a little glance at Abbi’s face for any sign of hesitation, Ty let her fingers delicately trace their way down Abbi’s belly, to pass over her pretty bush, and to pause just an inch shy of the wet heat she knew was waiting for her.
“Last chance to change your mind, Miss Abigail. You sure you don’t want a bull to finish you off?”
Abbi lowered her ears and scowled very stern and serious at Ty for even suggesting such a ridiculous thing. She answered with her body, raising her hips and shifting herself into Ty’s hand in a sudden rush that forced Ty’s fingers all the way to the very slick and very eager entrance to her heat.
Ty grinned and teased again: “Whoa there, girl. Slow down a minute. That ain’t how I treated that farmer’s wife, now is it?”
“Forget her,” Abbi said, aching. “I want you.”
“Well,” Ty said, “if you’re going to be so very polite about it.”
Then she sunk her forefinger into Abbi, which got a hell of a satisfied little moan out of her – a moan that sure felt a little too loud, considering the open window of the barn letting the breeze and starlight in from the night, and any little sound out into it. Never mind the other girls sleeping on the other side of the wall of the breeding enclosure.
“Abbi, could you hold your damn voice? Be a good girl for me, okay? We can’t have the whole farm talking about me fingering my favorite cow, or there’s gonna be trouble I can’t even imagine.”
Abbi brought a hand to her mouth and nodded. Then she quietly asked, “Favorite?”
Ty grinned and looked away with a bit of stupid heat in her cheeks, then did her best to distract Abbi from that unprofessional little slip of the truth by the clever working of her finger inside her.
Cows aren’t built quite like a woman inside. A bit deeper, which made enough sense considering how big those bulls got. And it took some searching to find the spot that made her grind and twist into Ty’s hand and gasp, “There,” so pretty for her, gentle enough that Ty could barely hear it over the frogs and crickets singing outside.
“You like that?” Ty asked, genuine, pressing a palm into the softness of Abbi’s pelvis while, inside her, she used the pad of her finger to circle what she was pretty sure was the right spot.
Abbi nodded eagerly.
“You want it hard or soft?”
“Gentle. I want you inside me so gentle.”
“Now see that’s exactly not how that farmer’s wife—”
Abbi cut off Ty’s teasing to remind her, “I told you. Forget her.”
Ty grinned at how forceful Abbi could be sometimes, even all vulnerable and begging as she was.
Ty slipped a second finger inside and found a good rhythm to coax out a steady wave of swelling curls of Abbi’s hips. Her thighs clenched and shook. Soft little not-quite-swears started popping out from between her lips. And her breath grew short and desperate.
After a good long while of Ty steadily milking her insides along, Abbi’s hands were grasping pathetically in Ty’s direction and at the ceiling and tangled in her own hair. And then, like a spring trap suddenly sprung, her hips bucked with a moan – stifled into her wrist, like a good girl. That wild buck was hard enough to send Ty tumbling backwards – which was damn lucky considering how tight Abbi’s thighs were clenching together. Hell of a bear trap. Hell, more of a guillotine if Ty got trapped in there.
Ty congratulated herself for a job well done, but she knew Abbi wasn’t satisfied with just that. Wasn’t big enough. Wasn’t even a fuck. And her heat demanded a fuck to settle her down.
So while Miss Abigail caught her breath, Ty made preparations for the next event.
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This is the artist who illustrated the art for an upcoming book that I have been aching to publish to show it off:

They were great to work with. The final product is stunning. And I very much recommend them.
It is my birthday. I made it to 40. Which is...so wild to me because I did not plan on it. Sorry to be grim, I am being honest. I'm very taken back by it and admittedly have been in a funk. (If you have been reaching out to me and haven't heard anything, this is why. Sorry. I'll get back to you soon, y'all know who you are.)
Ultimately... I am happy to be here. I am happy to know the people in my life and remove the not so good ones, and still think fondly of the ones in social limbo, and I hope they know wherever they are that I miss them. I am happy to share my work and make my small mark, a single atom in a vast ocean, in this tiny window we get on earth's history. And I've made a whole lot of art. You can check my archive with work from 2011 to now, some of which I still enjoy. Some not so much. It's growth. Part of growing is fucking around, making mistakes (hopefully mostly harmless ones), and learning from it. That's what art making has taught me, anyway.
I am also very much looking for work. The times are bad, but hey if you have a project or want something cool to put in your home, reach out. My portfolio is here:
mxmorgan.com
Or if you're feeling generous and want to make the debt bills not sting so bad, you're welcome to drop some coin here: https://ko-fi.com/mxmorgan
Thanks for sharing this window of precious life with me and inviting my work into your lives.
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A Better Bull - 1 of 4
@fawnduu bless her heart has afflicted me with a madness with images such as these, and so we have another wildly perverted fic. if you are normal this little series is not for you
She Ain’t Like the Other Girls (AO3)
Ty was breathing heavy, staring at the blood staining the basin, still dripping off her arm even through the gauze and bandage.
A bite. Never in Ty’s whole god damned life had a cow had the wild idea to bite her.
But Miss Abigail was sure a hell of a special creature, wasn’t she? What the hell was wrong with that girl? How do you end up with such pretty eyes and fluffy ears and the softest damn tits Ty had ever got her hands on and also be so full of that damn mood of hers?
None of this would’ve happened if Abbi could just get on with that sterile bull Ty had been renting every cycle the last couple months – special order, just for her, seeing as a few cycles ago that fussy princess of a cow had got so moody during her heat that she started kicking over buckets and refusing to be touched no matter how much it made her tits ache, which only made her more upset. Ty figured repeating all that every few weeks forever was likely to get Abbi ejected from the farm even before her first dry season came, so she’d been trying to bring in a little outside assistance to get her through.
But she just wouldn’t let the damn boy mount her long enough and nothing he did was making her happy. Only made things worse it seemed, really – especially when Ty had the bright idea to try tying her to a post to keep her from running off on him like she was. Apparently that’s a good way to get bit. And thrown. And kicked some.
Ty had half a mind to return the damn troublemaker to the very same wild pasture she found her. Let whatever clever farmer had the sense to abandon her out there deal with it.
After getting her wound washed and dressed as best she could, Ty went back out to try and find Abbi.
Looked like she’d made her way out to the pasture.
She was agitated. Avoiding the other girls. Idly plucking grass out of the ground and tossing it away instead of eating it like she was supposed to be doing.
Ty figured it weren’t right leaving things so bitter, so she hopped the fence to approach and try to make amends.
“Miss Abigail. You still in a mood?”
She didn’t respond.
Ty crouched down to try to get in her eyeline to make an honest case: “Miss Abigail, you need to play nice with that bull—”
“I ain’t playing nice with no boy.”
“This keeps going, the farm’s gonna start charging me for every drop of milk you won’t let me take out of you.”
She didn’t respond any kinder than to snort and turn her head away, jingling that sweet indignant collar bell of hers.
“Just give him one try—” Ty started before she was cut off by a curt:
“No.”
“They don’t make a bull that’s ever done me right,” she said defiantly. She took a little fistful of grass in both hands, but she didn’t rip it out this time, just gripped it hard and tugged until the soil and roots started to show. “I want someone gentler,” she said quietly, staring at the ground, her ears sunken low.
“Abbi. You gotta make peace with this. Less than two seasons now before you need to calf up again for me, and if you ain’t friendly with the bulls by then, you’re gonna have to get real friendly with a cold steel pistolet. None of the girls prefer that insemination gun, you can ask ’em. Come on, now, you ain’t had your heat sorted out properly in a whole season. I’d go crazy too with a dry spell like that.”
“Well I told you Emery there’s the gentlest—”
“I saw you,” she said, low, kind of menacing, too. “With her.”
“What?”
“That farmer’s woman? When he brings that worthless pushy boy of a bull. His woman always comes too, right?”
Ty gave Miss Abigail an uneasy grin. “Now how did you notice something like that? You’re more clever than you let on, aren’tcha?”
Miss Abigail glanced over at Ty for a moment before looking away. Then she shook the hesitation out of her head and stared Ty right in the eye to blurt it out: “You touch her so nice every time. Over there in the shadow of the house,” she said, nodding towards the farmhouse, “while that bull tries and shoves himself uselessly around in me. —I don’t want a bull, Ty. I want you.”
Ty’s mind ground to a halt trying to figure through that. That little affair with the bull owner’s wife had been going on for months already – ever since the day Ty picked that boy out special for Miss Abigail at that farmer’s ranch down the way. And Ty’d been fucking that beautiful farmer’s wife in the shadow of the house since the very first time that bull came by and failed to finish Miss Abigail off properly.
And now it was clear as glass why he failed. All because Miss Abigail wouldn’t stand still enough for him – though she’d clearly done just fine with that on her own last time she’d got calved up, hadn’t she?
She’d been making such a fuss because she was jealous?
The thought put a wild rush of heat and a swell of excitement in Ty’s nethers. She’d heard about it: horny teenage first timers losing their wits and going too far with one of these girls. These pretty cows had the treacherous look of a woman. It was impossible to ignore it, but you had to anyways. Part of the job.
Ty’d thought about it too, though, every time she handled Miss Abigail’s breasts. Especially hers. There was something special about her that Ty couldn’t shake. None of the other girls leaned and nuzzled into her the way she did while they were milking. None of the other girls moaned for her either or blushed so. And none of the other girls seemed quite so eager to offer their chests up to Ty as Miss Abigail did after every session, begging to be cleaned with the same attention a hungry calf would give.
It was a guilty pleasure. Ty couldn’t resist after the tenth time on offer, during a little dry spell of her own with the ladyfolk in town. It had been a secret ever since, to sneak a little lick of the milk off Miss Abigail’s pretty skin every time, to her giggling delight.
But every handler did that. She was sure of it. Waste of milk, otherwise, wasn’t it? It was one of those ‘known secrets’.
Ty eyed up Abbi’s chest. Even through her shirt it was obvious her breasts were swollen with milk from days of shoving Ty away every time she tried to relieve her.
Why? Because she was jealous?
Miss Abigail wanted a gentler touch, and that bull couldn’t deliver.
Maybe Ty could.
It wouldn’t mean anything, anyways. Just upkeep. Same as brushing Abbi’s pretty hair and tail didn’t mean anything or rubbing soothing oil into her skin to keep her soft. Just the same as fucking that farmer’s wife didn’t mean anything. Just making a woman coo and whine. Just licking the salt and sweetness off her body. Just a game.
She could make a game of fucking Abbi.
She shuffled a little closer to Miss Abigail and put a gentle hand on her head to scruffle her bangs a bit and tease her ears. Despite her mood, Miss Abigail grinned a little at the touch and hummed cheerfully about it.
Ty leaned in and whispered in Miss Abigail’s ear: “Tonight. If you promise to let me milk you properly without a word of fuss after, I’ll give you just what I gave that farmer’s wife,” Ty said, with a nod houseward.
Miss Abigail’s head turned to Ty, her ears all perked up and pretty blue eyes aglow. She had such a stupid grin on that Ty couldn’t help grinning all stupid right back.
She nodded eagerly, and bumped her forehead into Ty’s, and lingered there just a little too long for Ty to pretend she couldn’t feel the heat of Miss Abigail’s breath on her lips.
Ty pulled away in a hot rush and stood up in a huff.
“Tonight,” Ty said again, a promise. “When the sun’s down proper. Don’t fall asleep on me.”
Miss Abigail nodded again.
Then Ty went on her way to put together a little bag of fun for the evening’s game.
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I got my hands on the hard proof for The Shepherd's Sword Volume 1 !!! And it looks GOOD. You are gonna want to put this on your bookshelf :) preorders for this first edition printing are open now and will be shipping next month!
The Shepherd's Sword is a werewolf lesbian adventure webcomic for the lonely and mean and anxious with something to prove and something to run from. This book is the first five chapters of the series, and it includes bonus art from some incredibly talented artists.
Get ur copy, do not delay!
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I figure if someone gives you a few gallons of cherries that make you insane you should probably make them some pie right? May we never be cured of the malady of Ty servicing Abbi's sweet cow tits and discreetly sampling the merchandise 🥂


Ty milking cows-- IN MINECRAFT
#this one is going on my list of reasons to keep writing forever#number 3: sometimes you can make someone insane and unhealthy and being evil feels pretty good actually
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So how's that sequel coming, Aphy? Lot of fanfiction lately—
It's coming okay. It's coming. I promise. 🙏
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hi so this put brain worms in me and my hand slipped and I wrote a perverted little fic about it. affectionately, thanks for the kink, you monster
Loyalty to the Brand (AO3)
“You can’t unbrand a cow,” Ty grumbled. Then she swore it. Then shouted it and punctuated it with fists on tables and walls and doorframes.
The matter was on contest for a whole week, and Ty put up a damn good fight. Damn good. Strong points on both sides, though, over every breakfast lunch and dinner. Toughest point for Ty to take to heart was the simplest one: A few days of bad milk from the stress of it was a hell of a lot less to mourn than the whole cow if some thief ran off with Miss Abigail in the night and swapped out her ear tag like nothing.
You can’t unbrand a cow. Plain and simple. And that was that.
Miss Abigail practically jogged up to Ty in the morning, when she got the barn door closed, ears perked, eyes bright, tail whipping playfully about. She was wearing that pretty grin of hers, bouncing her heavy tits the whole way too, stirring up Ty’s stomach and making her shorts feel awful tight – far too tight for the grim work ahead.
Ty’d never worked with such a doting girl before she found Miss Abigail. Something went all right with Abbi’s breeding – and that was another one of those strong points at every meal: You don’t keep something so valuable and desirable hidden away as quiet as a humble unmarred dairy cow in a barn. She needed to be shown off if Ty wanted to make any use of her fine pedigree. The world had to know Miss Abigail was perfect. The world had to know Miss Abigail was genuine. And the world had to know that no one in the world could touch Miss Abigail without going through Ty.
The plan was to turn her to the wall and get it over with while she was distracted licking salt. One quick jab. She’d yelp and skitter and whine about it, but it’d be over quick.
That was the plan.
But Abbi’s bright smile twisted subtly into a look of want and need when she got close. She eyed Ty’s calloused hands the way she did whenever Ty took too long to get started in the morning. She even had the audacity to step right up on Ty and drape her soft arms over Ty’s hard shoulders and whisper in her ear how heavy her breasts were, waiting all night for Ty to come back.
One quick little session? Just to get it out of the way. It’d put Abbi more at ease, really, to not be achy and sore from the heft of her milk after the branding. No need to add that to all the pain she’d be stuck with while pacing and whimpering about her burn. Last thing Ty wanted was to see her suffer any more than she needed.
She discreetly set the brand to lean harmlessly against the door while Abbi led the way to her station.
The other girls didn’t make sounds milking the way Miss Abigail did. Took months of training to get her to quiet down during her sessions. Used to be loud enough to make visitors to the farm ask questions about the ethical treatment of the cattle. Now they were just whispers. Little whimpers. Breaths of moans without a voice. She bit her lip to hold herself back and it was good she did.
But today was special, Ty figured. She deserved a treat. Ty told her she could let her voice out if she wanted, like she used to, before Ty broke her spirit with the crack of a whip on her ass and silenced her to make it easier to get her job done.
Abbi didn’t make a single sound today, though. Ty was halfway done taking the milk out of her, with her most professional grip, before Abbi spoke softly to tell Ty she could go a little harder.
“I’ll go as hard as I want Miss Abigail, thank you.”
Abbi watched miserably while Ty stuck to the steady pressure and rhythm that she used on every other girl she’d ever worked.
Then Abbi asked if she’d done something wrong.
Ty faltered for a breath when she did, but she didn’t answer. Just lowered her brow until her eyes were out of Miss Abigail’s sight and kept right on with her work.
“Ty? What’s wrong? You’re not having fun today.”
“This is work, Abbi. I’m working. Working’s not supposed to be fun.”
“It can be.”
“Not today it can’t.”
Ty was startled to feel Abbi’s fingers touch her cheek. Startled enough to draw back a bit.
“That’s too close,” she said, warning, uneasy, half a lie in the words. On instinct, her hand was raised to strike, a whole lie in the gesture.
Miss Abigail was too damn close. Cows aren’t supposed to be that close to their handlers.
But she drew closer still, stepping away from her station to follow Ty with every step of retreat, until her rope tugged tight at the mount and jerked her to a stop by the neck. Her fingers were outstretched at Ty and pleading for her to come back. Pleading for her to have fun.
The sight of her like that shook Ty, so earnest and yearning and sweet as she was. Her thick milk was still fresh on her nipples, leaking out uselessly to be wasted coloring her pretty skin even whiter, unless someone took it on themself clean her off properly – which was something Ty took a special delight in at the end of every session most days. Miss Abigail was bred special.
But Ty couldn’t have fun with her today. Not today. Something was all wrong about it. Cattle’s meant to be used, but something about doing that today felt like more than using. Felt a lot closer to abusing than she was comfy letting her heart get to.
She was still wrestling with it when she stepped back up to Miss Abigail and took that outstretched hand in hers to gently push it back.
“Back in your seat, Miss Abigail. I won’t say it twice.”
Abbi’s face scrunched up in a scowl at being commanded around so. She gave Ty a shove that sent her stumbling back a couple steps, to remind Ty exactly who was a whole hundred pounds more than who in this barn. But Abbi knew the sting of the whip on her ass, and she went back to her seat as she was told without making Ty say it a second time.
She was awful grumpy while Ty finished her off. Good harvest today. She really must’ve been aching overnight. No wonder she was so eager. Ty eyed up the lingering streams of white that had painted Miss Abigail’s pretty skin.
Cattle’s to be used.
Cattle’s to be used, damn it.
Ty tipped her hat back, then pressed her palm into Miss Abigail’s sternum to lean her back against the post behind her, and dipped down to do what ought to be a milk rag’s job on any other girl.
Abbi’s fingers wrapped with a terrifying strength around the back of Ty’s head when Ty’s tongue touched the sweet, tender skin of her nipple. Ty had learned not to pull away until Abbi was satisfied, because pulling away before Abbi was satisfied was a good way to get thrown across the room hard enough to limp around for a week or two.
Miss Abigail was bred special.
It tickled Ty’s mind a moment to imagine it: Some thief stealing Abbi? The fool would be dead before they even got her past the barn door.
But some thieves carry guns. Heavy guns. Guns heavy enough to put Abbi on the ground. And if she had the thought to throw a thief through the door, there was a pretty good chance that thief would have a vengeful thought to put Abbi on the ground forever with a few hunks of hot lead.
But, as was so insistently contested at every meal for a whole damn week, no thief would be stupid enough to steal a branded cow – especially one as notorious as Abbi was going to be when Ty started showing her off for breeding.
Turned out Ty’s unenthusiastic milking today had left a few good mouthfuls of milk in each of Miss Abigail’s tits. Ty savored the cooing moans and the steady streams of heat every pinch and draw drew out of her – savored the warmth and sweetness of it trickling down her throat – savored the rush of stealing the product, a thief of a kind, drawing from her own damn pocket, though.
It was always worth every lost dollar and cent.
But today, she tried to make work of it – of being Abbi’s milk rag – of cleaning up her mess – of licking her skin clean – of sucking every stubborn drop out of her – of satisfying her until her achy tits were full of the heavenly relief she craved.
She even tried to make work out of her usual wandering hand. She was just testing the girl’s heat today. That was all. Work. Clinical. It wasn’t to feel the slickness between Abbi’s joyfully parting thighs. It wasn’t to slip fingers inside to feel her eagerly clench down in a rhythm that matched all her pretty little moans. It wasn’t to press her thumb into Miss Abigail’s stiff clit to give it the same relief as she was giving those delicious pink nipples of hers.
It was work today.
Every other day it could be fun, but today it had to be work – putting her at ease, getting Miss Abigail ready to take her brand like a good girl.
The new plan was put Miss Abigail in a state, dazed and dozy on the rush of cumming for Ty’s touch, and then before she had a chance to scurry around the barn or fight – just as quick as Ty could get that brand up to red hot – she’d get it over with. And tomorrow it could go back to being fun again.
Unfortunately for Ty, today was going to be one of those days that Abbi made her work for it. She released Ty’s head just long enough to grab the back of her shirt and drew her head up until their eyes were locked. With a playful little bump to the forehead that hurt a lot more than Ty should be letting a cow hurt her, Abbi told Ty that she had a little extra work to do:
“Fuck me.”
“Miss Abigail, we do not do that in the morning, and you know that.”
“Please. I need it. I waited all night for you, Ty.”
“No – and do not make me say it—”
Again Miss Abigail’s hand curled fiercely around the back of Ty’s skull and brought their foreheads together so hard it made a cracking sound that put a little ache right through to the other side of Ty’s head for it.
Abbi repeated herself firmly, “I need it. Fuck me now or I’m not letting you near me tonight.”
Ty squirmed away and scoffed at Abbi’s ridiculous threat: “You’ll be awful sore in the morning, Miss Abigail, if you think you can go a whole day without me touching you.”
“Just once.”
“There’s people on the farm in the morning. You know that. They walk in here and catch me with my cock buried up to the hilt in my own cattle, you know how that looks?”
Abbi crossed her arms and dropped the tips of her ears in a scowl that sent a little shiver up Ty’s spine. That look and that impatient flicking tuft of her tail normally came right before a hell of a kick. Ty took a big step back for safety – and wiped Abbi’s juices off her fingers on her shirt while she was at it to make a show of putting a stop to all this.
The plan wasn’t going to work. It was time to improvise.
But maybe she could work with all this need in Miss Abigail. Negotiate with the stubborn cow.
She backed away with a hand up to tell Abbi to stay exactly where she was, and told her there was a way she could get what she wanted. “Tell you what, Miss Abigail, tell you what: I’ll clear everyone off the farm today and fuck you stupid sunrise to sunset if you do me one little favor.”
Abbi’s scowl broke with a curious raise of her eyebrows and a little interested flick of her ears. Tail still looked ready to whip a flame off a candle though.
Ty managed to get back to the brand and hefted it up to show it off to explain: “Farm’s worried you’re gonna get stolen. Since you’re so pretty. Now I told them anyone who tried to steal you would be stupid, but they told me anyone who would try to steal you would also have to be pretty good at stealing. I don’t have much of an argument against that.”
Abbi tilted her head to the side trying to make sense of Ty’s rambling. She was eyeing up the iron in Ty’s hands uneasily. She’d never seen any of her kin branded before, apparently. There wasn’t any fear in her, just wonder.
Ty continued, “Best way we have of stopping thieves is making it clear who you belong to.”
Abbi asked how anyone could think she belonged to anyone but Ty. “I’ll tell them,” she insisted.
Ty shook her head, “They cut out tongues when they don’t like a cow speaking, Miss Abigail. They do worse. You don’t want to be taken from here, I promise. I promise. This has to be done. It’s for your own good.”
Something in Ty’s voice put a fleck of fear in Abbi’s eyes and straightened her spine out. She shook her head slightly when she asked what ‘this’ was.
“Just… It’s just like those vaccines. And I know you hate them, but you always take those needles so good for me, don’t you? Because it’s for your good. It keeps you safe. Remember? Just a little pain for a minute and then you’re safe forever, right? So just… Just be a good girl for me. Stay still for a minute. It’ll be over quick. I promise.”
Abbi did not stay still. Not for a minute. Not even for a second. As soon as Ty moved to put the brand to the flame of the lantern, Abbi was cowering and whining at the very furthest end of her rope she could get, and by the time Ty managed to get her cornered, the iron had got too cold to be any use at all.
The second attempt was worse than the first. Ty managed to slip while the iron was still hot, tripping over her own feet trying to get in front of Abbi. The hot end of the iron ended up jabbing into her own thigh and sending her tumbling to the ground with a shout of pain at the burn that had got all the way through her pants like nothing at all. She clutched at the burn and hissed in seething fury at the stupidity of it all.
That fleck of fear in Abbi’s eyes turned into a whole mess of panic after she saw what the iron could do. And panic was the last thing Ty needed right now. Panic meant Abbi was done running. Panic meant Abbi was charging.
Before Ty could even properly get to her feet, Abbi had already buried a foot in her ribs hard enough to launch her a few tumbling feet away. The iron brand was tossed right on after her and she barely dodged it by ducking before it clanged and clattered by the door. And if that wasn’t enough, Miss Abigail was already gearing up for another charge on Ty’s life.
It was all she could do to scramble away out of the barn.
The hands were looking.
Must’ve looked strange coming away from milking without any milk. And clutching at her bruised ribs as she was.
Ty told them to look elsewhere, then gathered herself for what she had to do next. Didn’t feel right. But it was for her own good.
She gathered rope up into a lasso and climbed up on the outside of the barn to the loft, creeping as best she could to watch Abbi below stewing and stomping and sulking.
It was over quick. Rope cinched tight around her arms and torso in a snap faster than she could shout about. A quick shift of her weight was enough to put her on the ground on her stomach, and Ty had her ankles trapped in a knot before she could even try to roll over.
While she caught her breath, she told her, as kindly as she could, “Now Miss Abigail, I’m sorry to have to make you still for me, but I promise you this will be fast and it will be over and if you damn well have to hate me for it then that’s how it is. But I am keeping you safe and that’s that.”
Abbi’s eyes were full of rage while she wriggled around trying to get free, until Ty added a few more turns and knots to her bindings to keep her perfectly still, pretty ass up in the air ready to take Ty’s iron. Damn waste of a good view. And a damn damn shame to put a mark forever on that beautiful skin, but it had to be done. It had to.
The rage turned into whimpering fear when Ty approached with the iron glowing red.
“It’s going to be okay. It’s fine. I promise. Take this like a good girl for me, okay? Like you always do.”
Ty expected Abbi to close her eyes or turn away, but she didn’t. She watched. She watch Ty press the iron into her sizzling skin. She screamed in pain for it. She swore like her sweet voice was never made to do. And when the screaming and the sizzling and the whimpering was done, she was silent and still like she never was.
Ty put some salve on the burn like she knew to do, which got another twitch out of Miss Abigail, but not another sound. And when Ty finally untied her and let her loose in the barn, she didn’t charge, or scowl, or say a word of thanks or fury. She just silently, coldly, wandered off to her corner of the barn to sulk.
No matter how much Ty tried to coddle her or say anything sweet or sultry, she just kept on with the cold and quiet treatment.
Even when Ty returned at the setting of the sun, Abbi stayed in her corner, refusing to move no matter how furiously Ty tugged at her collar.
Ty didn’t sleep that night. She’d branded cows before but never one so pretty. Never one so sweet tasting. Never one she wanted so very much to keep for herself forever like no handler should.
Groggy and miserable in the morning, Ty returned to the barn expecting to wrestle with Abbi to get her over to her station. She didn’t expect Abbi to already be waiting there. When Ty closed the barn door, Abbi didn’t jog over with a smile, but she did look up to meet Ty’s eyes for a moment before looking away.
Then Ty got to work.
And working wasn’t supposed to be fun.
By the time Ty was in her rhythm, Abbi’s face was getting flushed like it always did when she got worked up. She whimpered something in the silence that made Ty freeze. A couple of tears were staining Abbi's cheeks when she glanced up at her.
“It hurts,” she cried, like Ty could do something about it.
Ty glared at her own hands wrapped callously around Abbi’s breasts, stained in her milk, using her for what she was damn well bred so perfectly well to be used for. Bred so damn well that she needed a brand put on her to keep her safe.
She wiped her hands on a rag and told Abbi to turn over so she could take a look at it.
She did. She watched with hopeful eyes while Ty inspected the burn for anything wrong. It was clean, though. No infection. No blisters. The skin on her hind had cooked and cauterized all perfect and shapely like it was supposed to, showing off to the world how so very valuable Abbi was to breed, and how so very much no one else could ever use her for that without Ty watching.
She glanced at Abbi’s face. The mournful look. Pleading eyes. Ears low. She wanted Ty to fix this. She needed Ty to fix this.
With a little huff of a sigh, Ty asked her what she wanted: “You want me to kiss your ass? That make it better? Lick the wound for you? It’ll stop hurting in a few days. Just give it time.”
Abbi’s gaze lingered on Ty’s for a couple breaths before she lowered her head and returned to her cold silence.
Ty couldn’t stand it being like this. She looked over her shoulder at the barn door to make sure it was closed tight, then she turned back to dear Miss Abigail and lowered herself to plant a gentle kiss on her hind, near the brand, being very careful not to make it sting any more than it already did – as Ty was very aware it did from the ache of the clumsy burn on her own thigh.
Abbi was looking at her again when she raised her eyes. Her ears were perked up a little like Ty had done something right for once all day. Ty grinned at her and teased her, “What, you liked that?”
Abbi nodded.
So Ty spoiled her with another kiss. And another. Circling but never touching the burn. God but no handler in the world should be planting their damn lips on a cow like this, but if that’s what it took to get Abbi to stop sulking, she’d plant her lips anywhere on Abbi’s pretty body she asked.
And she asked. With a little playful point, she poked her hip to direct Ty’s next kiss. Then another poke on her belly. And another on a milk-stained nipple. Ty lingered there like she always did. She never usually got a chance to drink from Abbi when she was this full. Always the dregs. Cleaning up. Like a rag. It was a heavenly bounty that flowed like a fresh mountain spring over her tongue. Miss Abigail cooed for her and let her drink and drink until she poked Ty in the forehead to get her eyes open to see the next spot.
Her neck.
Ty hesitated, and Abbi glowered at her and pointed again impatiently.
So of course Ty kissed her neck. Like no handler ever should do to her cow but Abbi was bred damn special.
Abbi whispered, “You can go a little harder.”
And she did, leaving a different kind of brand there on Abbi’s neck. And another. And one more for fun. Not as clear who owned her as the fancy logo on her hind made it, but it was just as clear a message to stay away.
Then Abbi put a finger under Ty’s chin and tilted her eyes up to see the other finger that was gently touching her own lips.
Ty shook her head slightly. That was too far. That had to be. That had to be too damn far didn’t it? She could plant her lips on any part of Miss Abigail’s pretty body and it would be no different than licking a slab of meat. She could shove her fingers and her cock in any part of that cow and it would be practically clinical. Servicing her. But that? That was different. That was something lovers do. That was something only lovers do.
“Miss Abigail I swear I’ve healed you as much as I’m able with what I’ve got here.”
She tried to break from Abbi’s gaze, but there was something in her eyes that said if she walked away now, she’d never get to look Abbi in the eye again, never get to taste her, never even get to touch her. Miss Abigail could throw Ty across a room. But she had to ask for a kiss.
Well, what’s the damn point branding her if she couldn’t have her?
Abbi was practically squealing with joy while the two of them traded spit and danced their tongues together, like lovers do in the dark. The poor girl couldn’t find a spot for her hands. Pawing slightly at Ty’s chest knowing damn well she wasn’t allowed to touch, curling her fingers around the back of Ty’s head like she knew she was barely allowed to do even when Ty was feeling generous enough to let her.
Ty wasn’t sure what a cow’s kiss was supposed to be like, but she sure figured it shouldn’t taste this good or leave her wanting more the moment it stopped.
Out of breath from it, she asked Abbi if that was good enough. “Feeling better?”
Abbi nodded again. Then she caught herself and put on a fake scowl and shook her head. “You promised you’d fuck me all day if I was a good girl.”
“You were not a good girl! You kicked me across the room!”
“Well, I’m being a good girl now, aren’t I?”
Ty looked her over. She looked at the barn door. She looked at the quarter-full bucket of Abbi’s milk. Then with a little sigh, she told Abbi to wait right there like she had any choice in it.
After shouting at all the farm hands to take the day off and putting up a closed sign by the road, she returned and locked and barricaded the damn door, then told Abbi to be a good girl and bend over for the best all-day fucking she ever had.


Ty milking cows-- IN MINECRAFT
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The Shepherd's Sword - Counting Sheep
A little fanfic for @renstrapp's @theshepherdssword. Feeling inspired seeing all the fanart for the upcoming book release. Can't draw for my life so I must ply my only craft. This would take place somewhere in Chapter 5, if they didn't quite make it through the woods before nightfall, and if Shep were really bad at being a shepherd.
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“Twelve,” Shep said. A hard answer to a hard question from a soft kid. A shepherd’s burden.
Wayne laughed. The way she does. The way she shouldn’t. But you probably can’t even beat that kind of behavior out of a hound like her.
“That many?” Wayne teased Shep. “In two years? You sure you’re cut out for this? Maybe you’d be better tending trees. They don’t wander off as much.”
That grin. Arrogance dripping. Irredeemable wretch.
Robin kept on asking hard questions, soft-eyed: “You remember them all?”
Shep nodded, then nodded again at the shaft of her staff. Twelve notches. She offered it up for Robin to count.
She tried, a little too hard, but even tracing her fingertips carefully over the scars, she couldn’t count more than eight that hadn’t been worn away with time.
Shep took the staff back and showed her every one, naming every ewe and lamb she’d lost.
“You can’t protect them all,” Shep said, glancing at Jo when she did, but Jo wasn’t really paying much attention. Shep’s finger lingered over one notch. She dug her nail into the groove to keep it fresh.
Wayne couldn’t help herself from pouncing on an opportunity to brag in front of eternally star-struck Jo: “Maybe you can’t. I’ve never lost anything.”
Shep just closed her eyes and shook the annoyance out of her head. The fire needed more wood if the four of them had any hope of keeping the beasts at bay tonight. The forest seemed more uneasy these nights than it had ever been, and she wasn’t planning to add any more notches to her staff during this little detour of an errand.
When she got back, Jo and Robin were asleep, cuddled into each other sweetly. Wayne lingered. Like an ivy rash lingers.
Shep insisted she should go to bed too: “You get the second shift.”
Wayne didn’t respond to that. She was trying to make a show of staring at the fire, but her gaze kept flickering to Shep’s staff.
To the notches.
“You missed one,” she said at last. All that boastful pride was gone. Just a show for the kids, apparently.
Shep repeated herself: “I’ve lost twelve sheep.”
“There’s thirteen cuts in the wood. Thought you were smart, Shep. How do you keep track of that flock of theirs if you can’t count?”
Shep wrinkled her nose and looked away bitterly before she told Wayne it was time for her to be a good hound and go to sleep.
Wayne grumbled about it, but she did concede to lie down in her bed. Like a good hound.
Not like a good hound, she decided to bark out an arrogant last little bit of advice: “It doesn’t make you better. Remembering.”
“Good night, Wayne.”
While the fire crackled and Shep’s trio of unwarranted wards slept safe and sound in her care, she spent the time scoring the notches with her nail.
Even someone like Robin should be able to see each and every one of them.
Shep glanced at the kid, whose face seemed troubled by something in her sleep – even in Jo’s guardian embrace.
…Especially someone like Robin.
Wayne tagged in when the moon was high.
Shep’s sleep was uneasy. Visions of eyes in the shadows beyond the fire. Violence. Blood.
When she woke, she found Wayne cleaning her sword next to some messily butchered beast. She’d done a poor job wiping the blood of it off her cheeks. Recklessly hunting in the night again? Leaving the camp unguarded? Of course she would. Even with kids to take care of, of course she was going to be so careless and arrogant and—
Before Shep could build up the pyre of her scorn to the pines, a sudden splash of realization dowsed the flame in her. That was no deer. No deer had fur that thick.
She wrinkled her nose at it, standing silently behind Wayne, ready to beat her stupid and sorry, but she needed an answer before she did:
“What happened?”
“Cougar.”
“…Another one?”
“Think so. Smelled different. Hard to tell in the dark, though. Maybe it was the same. Hell of a thing if it was, though, after that fight.”
“…It smelled different?”
Wayne held up her sword to admire the sheen, then slipped it back in its scabbard with a satisfying snap of the clasp. “It smelled different,” she repeated.
“You killed it by yourself?”
She looked over her shoulder with a grin that said it all: Of course she did. Jo and Robin were still asleep. Who else was there?
“Figured I’d spare you vandalizing your stupid little stick there again.”
“Just wake me up next time.”
“And let you take the credit?”
“Who are you showing off for? You’d put their lives at risk for your ego? For points?”
“I could handle it.”
“This time.”
Wayne stood and turned to get up in Shep’s face before she jabbed at her: “Every. Time. I told you, Shep. I’ve never lost anything.” She stepped back and added with a disarming little shrug and a grin, “Be pretty stupid of me to start now.”
Shep glared into Wayne’s stupid grinning eyes with a bitter grimace for a few heavy breaths, before her frown cracked. There was something in Wayne’s eyes. A waver. A glance. A lie. A weight.
The shepherd’s burden.
Even a hound feels it, then.
It had been a long time since Shep had enough softness in her eyes to ask such a hard question, so instead she just left Wayne alone to deal with what was left of her kill.
While Shep set about packing up her gear, she wondered if there were any notches hidden on the hilt of Wayne’s sword, or if it really did make her better to forget.
Watching Wayne brag about her triumphant kill to Jo, Shep thought better of it – because if that was what better looked like, she’d rather be worse.
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The Shepherd's Sword - Counting Sheep
A little fanfic for @renstrapp's @theshepherdssword. Feeling inspired seeing all the fanart for the upcoming book release. Can't draw for my life so I must ply my only craft. This would take place somewhere in Chapter 5, if they didn't quite make it through the woods before nightfall, and if Shep were really bad at being a shepherd.
-
“Twelve,” Shep said. A hard answer to a hard question from a soft kid. A shepherd’s burden.
Wayne laughed. The way she does. The way she shouldn’t. But you probably can’t even beat that kind of behavior out of a hound like her.
“That many?” Wayne teased Shep. “In two years? You sure you’re cut out for this? Maybe you’d be better tending trees. They don’t wander off as much.”
That grin. Arrogance dripping. Irredeemable wretch.
Robin kept on asking hard questions, soft-eyed: “You remember them all?”
Shep nodded, then nodded again at the shaft of her staff. Twelve notches. She offered it up for Robin to count.
She tried, a little too hard, but even tracing her fingertips carefully over the scars, she couldn’t count more than eight that hadn’t been worn away with time.
Shep took the staff back and showed her every one, naming every ewe and lamb she’d lost.
“You can’t protect them all,” Shep said, glancing at Jo when she did, but Jo wasn’t really paying much attention. Shep’s finger lingered over one notch. She dug her nail into the groove to keep it fresh.
Wayne couldn’t help herself from pouncing on an opportunity to brag in front of eternally star-struck Jo: “Maybe you can’t. I’ve never lost anything.”
Shep just closed her eyes and shook the annoyance out of her head. The fire needed more wood if the four of them had any hope of keeping the beasts at bay tonight. The forest seemed more uneasy these nights than it had ever been, and she wasn’t planning to add any more notches to her staff during this little detour of an errand.
When she got back, Jo and Robin were asleep, cuddled into each other sweetly. Wayne lingered. Like an ivy rash lingers.
Shep insisted she should go to bed too: “You get the second shift.”
Wayne didn’t respond to that. She was trying to make a show of staring at the fire, but her gaze kept flickering to Shep’s staff.
To the notches.
“You missed one,” she said at last. All that boastful pride was gone. Just a show for the kids, apparently.
Shep repeated herself: “I’ve lost twelve sheep.”
“There’s thirteen cuts in the wood. Thought you were smart, Shep. How do you keep track of that flock of theirs if you can’t count?”
Shep wrinkled her nose and looked away bitterly before she told Wayne it was time for her to be a good hound and go to sleep.
Wayne grumbled about it, but she did concede to lie down in her bed. Like a good hound.
Not like a good hound, she decided to bark out an arrogant last little bit of advice: “It doesn’t make you better. Remembering.”
“Good night, Wayne.”
While the fire crackled and Shep’s trio of unwarranted wards slept safe and sound in her care, she spent the time scoring the notches with her nail.
Even someone like Robin should be able to see each and every one of them.
Shep glanced at the kid, whose face seemed troubled by something in her sleep – even in Jo’s guardian embrace.
…Especially someone like Robin.
Wayne tagged in when the moon was high.
Shep’s sleep was uneasy. Visions of eyes in the shadows beyond the fire. Violence. Blood.
When she woke, she found Wayne cleaning her sword next to some messily butchered beast. She’d done a poor job wiping the blood of it off her cheeks. Recklessly hunting in the night again? Leaving the camp unguarded? Of course she would. Even with kids to take care of, of course she was going to be so careless and arrogant and—
Before Shep could build up the pyre of her scorn to the pines, a sudden splash of realization dowsed the flame in her. That was no deer. No deer had fur that thick.
She wrinkled her nose at it, standing silently behind Wayne, ready to beat her stupid and sorry, but she needed an answer before she did:
“What happened?”
“Cougar.”
“…Another one?”
“Think so. Smelled different. Hard to tell in the dark, though. Maybe it was the same. Hell of a thing if it was, though, after that fight.”
“…It smelled different?”
Wayne held up her sword to admire the sheen, then slipped it back in its scabbard with a satisfying snap of the clasp. “It smelled different,” she repeated.
“You killed it by yourself?”
She looked over her shoulder with a grin that said it all: Of course she did. Jo and Robin were still asleep. Who else was there?
“Figured I’d spare you vandalizing your stupid little stick there again.”
“Just wake me up next time.”
“And let you take the credit?”
“Who are you showing off for? You’d put their lives at risk for your ego? For points?”
“I could handle it.”
“This time.”
Wayne stood and turned to get up in Shep’s face before she jabbed at her: “Every. Time. I told you, Shep. I’ve never lost anything.” She stepped back and added with a disarming little shrug and a grin, “Be pretty stupid of me to start now.”
Shep glared into Wayne’s stupid grinning eyes with a bitter grimace for a few heavy breaths, before her frown cracked. There was something in Wayne’s eyes. A waver. A glance. A lie. A weight.
The shepherd’s burden.
Even a hound feels it, then.
It had been a long time since Shep had enough softness in her eyes to ask such a hard question, so instead she just left Wayne alone to deal with what was left of her kill.
While Shep set about packing up her gear, she wondered if there were any notches hidden on the hilt of Wayne’s sword, or if it really did make her better to forget.
Watching Wayne brag about her triumphant kill to Jo, Shep thought better of it – because if that was what better looked like, she’d rather be worse.
#the shepherd's sword#fanfic#I'm pretty sure Shep is a capable shepherd canonically but it would be pretty funny if she just sucked real bad at it the first year
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IT FUCKIN YURI DAAAAAAAAAAAY
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Oh I was talking about this just today. Healing. Growing. Regressing.
I don't like writing characters who change fundamentally, so I have a rule that I will never, ever ‘cure’ a character of their flaws or scars or impediments.
By the end of my stories, I aim for my characters to generally be the same but more experienced. They know how to handle situations more effectively. Which is what therapy is about, I figure. You don't get fixed, you get tools. And sometimes, in the absence of therapy, you make your own tools and they suck real bad and make everything much, much worse.
When asked, “Would you do it again today?” the answer should be, “Yeah man I did it because that's who I am and I'd rather live with the consequences of being who I am than lose myself.” If you dropped my characters in the exact situation that started the story, their goals and motivations would be exactly the same, but they might use what they've learned to reach those goals more easily and temper those motivations from becoming delusions – might.
Using the metaphor of one's inner fire, it would be cherishing that flame but learning that it's probably a good idea to avoid pools of gasoline and dry underbrush, or at least carry an extinguisher.
There is a standard media depiction of a "healed" person. Someone who has Gone To Therapy. I've noticed this in a few works recently. We often see them at the end of a story, maybe in a "ten years later" epilogue. They speak in a soft, serene voice. They have Accepted what they cannot change. They have let go of a lot, including most of what we see them actually care about in the story itself. They are Happy, At Peace, in some non-descript way. They bare little resemble to the person we were actually shown. They bare little resemblance to any person. We were shown, as we usually are in stories, an agent, a desirer, someone becoming. Now they have Become. And they look back on all that silly becoming as something childish that they have moved past. Fire, you know, fire is for children who don't know any better. To be Healed is to have your fire rightly extinguished; to not even miss it.
#writerly reflections#I suspect readers may feel Felicity has changed by the end of the book but rest assured she is exactly the same just more powerful than ever#she has opted to carry an extinguisher. the fire is very much still blazing#Nicole and Ravi have each learned to avoid dry underbrush but gosh they want to go the parched wild woods in July so so bad
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I did it. I read the entirety of Saffron and Honey on the radio. 📻 I can finally rest.
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