Milked by Royalty: The Full Collection (A Human Cow Erotic Romance) Page 14

  “If you’re done taunting my stock,” his lordship said before retrieving a lead rope from a nearby fence post, “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. My entry does need to be delivered to the show grounds before she’s disqualified for tardiness, and Brisbee seems to be otherwise occupied.”

  Lord Ashe clipped the rope to Julia’s collar and led her across the yard. His strides were stiff and long, and Julia’s breasts bounced painfully as she tried to keep up.

  “Moo,” she called up to him, desperate to get his attention. “Moo?”

  He might have been mute for all he noticed her pleas.

  Her knee slipped across a patch of slick grass, and she stumbled. Still he didn’t slow down. He didn’t even look at her.

  She bit her lip.

  “My lord?” she said in a voice so low even she could barely hear it. “Lord Ashe…James, please, stop.”

  Her voice broke on the last word, and his lordship’s steps faltered. He let out a deep breath before looking down at her. She swallowed. She expected to see anger in those dark eyes, but instead all she saw was sadness, maybe even a hint of guilt.

  “Now is not the time, Jewel,” he said gruffly.

  “I know, I just…”

  Her words left her. What could she say? I love you. I want to be with you. I don’t care how screwed up this life is, I’d rather live the rest of my life as your slave than have to leave you at the end of the week.

  She shook her head. It had to be the laculin that was making her feel this way. That was the only explanation. She’d been the equivalent of this man’s prisoner for the past four days, and now she was ready to profess her undying love? What was wrong with her? She was a woman. She should want her freedom, but still…

  Still she couldn’t deny the overwhelming devotion that had somehow rooted her to Farthington Hall and its dark-eyed master.

  In the end, all she could manage was a weak, “Please don’t make me leave.”

  His lordship swept a hand over his face. “It’s not that simple anymore, Jewel.”

  “Why?” she asked. “I can be good. I promise.”

  “And I promised you I’d keep you safe,” he said. “But that’s quickly becoming a promise I’m not sure I can keep.”

  Her chest tightened. “Is it because of…last night?”

  He looked away. “Last night was a mistake. I should have never placed that stupid crown on your head no matter how much…”

  He let out a deep breath.

  “No more speaking,” he said at last. “You’re a cow. You will continue to behave as a cow until your final two days are completed, and then…”

  Her mouth went dry as she waited for him to go on.

  “And then we shall see.”

  He gave her rope a sharp tug, and she followed behind him without another word.

  Just behind the manor house, a ring was set up in an adjoining field. Wooden bleachers circled the stage area. A pedestal with a single podium stood in the center while a dozen or so narrow pens lined the back of the ring.

  His lordship led her to a center pen. A grain-filled trough extended along the back side while a single bucket of water stood in the center. Through the slats to her left and right, she watched her neighboring cows feed from the overflowing troughs in front of them.

  “Eat,” his lordship told her. “Judging begins in an hour, and the milking portion two hours after that. You’ll want all the strength you can muster before one of the milkmen take hold of you. I’m afraid their hands aren’t always as gentle as the ones you’re used to.”

  Julia cocked her head to the side. Milkmen? She wanted to know more, but before she could ask, his lordship turned and left. With no other company but the cows in the pens beside her, she turned her attention towards the trough in front of her and dug in.

  She never would have thought whole grain could have tasted so good, but for some reason it was even better than grass.

  Time passed by without meaning after that. The judges descended upon her at one point. Clad in their three-piece suits and flame-red ties, they looked more like rich bankers than experts on human livestock. They felt up her ass and hips. They measured her breasts and tugged at her teats. Each sampled a drop of her milk, but none seemed willing to give her any true relief.

  And she truly did need relief.

  She’d been so worried by his lordship’s odd behavior that she’d hardly noticed how heavy her breasts were growing. And they were so very, very heavy. Each one ached down to the core. She arched her back to present her nipples to the men judging her, but no one seemed interested in touching them. They just clucked their tongues and nodded their heads and jotted down notes in the little black books each one clutched to his chest.

  Julia groaned in frustration.

  Blind with need, she reached up to give herself the relief she so dearly craved, but a sharp slap on her ass drew her up short. When she looked behind her, a man in a white coat shook his finger in her direction.

  “Better heed your milkman,” one of the judges told her. “You wouldn’t want your handler to grow irritated before the competition even begins, now would you?”

  Julia gulped.

  So this was the dreaded milkman his lordship had mentioned. She peered up at the man behind her. He was big, not quite as tall as his lordship, but broader. She tried to get a good look at his face, but a surgical cap and mask hid his features. Only his eyes lay bare before her, each one deep and brown and calculating, so much like her ex-fiancé’s had been.

  Her heart beat faster just thinking about the man she’d left behind.

  But it’s not him, she told herself. He’s all the way back in Oregon, and besides, his eyes are green, not brown.

  Despite her better sense, fear still gnawed at her insides.

  “Milkmen,” a voice boomed from the nearby stage. “Ready your cows. The competition begins in five minutes.”

  The milkman she’d been assigned didn’t speak. He just clipped a rope to her collar and led her from the pen.

  Julia’s breasts swung painfully beneath her, each one so full her back nearly buckled. With each step she dreamed of dropping to the ground and grinding her nipples into the manicured grass beneath her. Just the thought of all those tender blades caressing her overly-sensitive teats made her pussy wet and her nipples hard, but she didn’t dare act on her wishes. Her milkman was staring down at her with those eerily intense eyes, and somehow she got the feeling that right now a whipping was the least she had to fear.

  Ahead of her, a low-set stage had been erected in the middle of his lordship’s northern pasture. Lords and ladies now filled the surrounding bleachers. A sea of eyes stared down at Julia. She struggled to find his lordship, but there were far too many faces.

  Surely he’s there, though. He has to be there, right? After all, he’s counting on me to win this competition for him.

  A knot settled in Julia’s gut. Despite her lord’s vague comments regarding her safety—or maybe because of them—she wanted to see his face now more than ever. But no matter where she looked, he wasn’t there.

  Sighing, she followed her milkman to the stool and bucket set up at the back of the stage. For a moment she thought she might be expected to sit upon it, but then she remembered her place. She was a cow, and cows didn’t sit on stools. Only their milkmen did.

  “Places please,” a man in a blue coat and called from the front of the stage. “Places.”

  Julia watched the other milkmen lead their cows to their designated stools. All together Julia counted twelve other fellow competitors. Except for the bald cow Julia recognized as Melissa’s, she didn’t recognize another one of the women present.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer called. “I’d like to welcome you all to our 23rd Annual Royal Human Cattle Show and Auction.”

  A round of applause broke through the crowd, but all Julia could focus on was the speaker’s last word: auction.

  Don’t be crazy. His lordship isn�
�t going to sell you. He promised he wouldn’t, remember?

  “Here before you stand some of the finest human cow specimens all of Europe has to offer. I’m sure many of you remember little Matilda, the French heifer from Marseilles, and who could ever forget the performance young Ingrid put on at last year’s festivities.”

  At the mention of the two cows, their milkmen gave quick waves before jerking the women forward. To Julia’s left, a woman with deeply tanned skin and long, thick brown hair leaned back on her haunches. Milk dribbled from the French woman’s teats as her milkman pinched one nipple and she let out a long, low, “Mooooooo!”

  Three cows to Julia’s right, a blonde beauty did the same thing. Breasts bigger than cantaloupes jostled against Ingrid’s chest as she panted and mooed along with Matilda.

  And this is what you want for your future? To be nothing more than an animal like all these women around you?

  Julia’s eyes drifted down the rows of cows on either side of her. She looked down at her own naked body, then back at them, and finally out at the crowd ahead.

  “But of all the cows entered in today’s competition, perhaps the most exciting is cow number four, Farthington Hall’s very own Jewel. Not only did this little heifer prove her worth at last night’s banquet, but after only five days into her service, she’s already Farthington’s leading producer, a great honor for such a very young cow.”

  A hand on the back of her neck, pulled her upright, and Julia gasped as her milkman grabbed her teat and shot a long, arching spray of her milk across the stage. Ahead of her, the crowd cheered. Applause rang through the bleachers. Lords and ladies alike stared down at her with hungry appreciation, and already Julia could feel her own juices leaking down her inside leg.

  She mooed without thinking.

  Did she really want to be debased, fondled, fucked, and milked over and over and over again from now until the day she died?

  Yes, she thought without hesitation. That’s exactly what I want. It’s the only thing I want.

  She expected her common sense to argue with her like always, but for once it didn’t. A small part of her wondered if it ever would again.

  “I can see we have an obvious favorite here today.” The announcer chuckled into his microphone. “Well, why don’t we see just how much of a treasure this little Jewel is, eh? Milkmen, take your teats.”

  Thickly muscled arms swept around Julia from behind. Her milkman guided her chest over the bucket in front of her. The heady scent of antiseptic billowed up from the man’s jacket, but Julia did her best to ignore the smell. Right now all she wanted to think about was the feel of those strong hands gripping her nipples and guiding her breasts into place.

  Sweet Lord, how long had it been since she’d last been milked. Hours? Days? An eternity?

  She knew damn well his lordship and his guests had done their best to drain her ducts last night, but that was then and this was now. She moaned as her milkman’s thumbs caressed her sensitive nubs. What was he waiting for? She wanted to be milked. She needed it, and she needed it now.

  “Moo,” she begged. “Moo?”

  Her milkman chuckled but didn’t give in to her wishes.

  “Soon,” he whispered into her ear, and she shivered.

  That voice…

  “On your mark,” the announcer called out. “Get set. And go!”

  Hands tugged at her teats, and her eyes rolled back.

  “Moo!” she cried out. “Mooooo!”

  Only a few days ago, she might have been embarrassed by her outburst, but not now. To her left and right, her fellow cows mooed and gasped along with her. And why wouldn’t they? This was what they were meant for. At no other time did she ever feel so alive as when she was being milked, and the man currently milking her was good, so very good.

  She sucked in a deep breath. Red hot heat rolled through her from one end to the next. Torrents of her milk bled into the bucket beneath her as her milkman tugged at her teats over and over again.

  Dear Lord, why does this have to feel so good?

  Her milkman gave one nipple an extra pinch, and she gasped. The pain pushed her pleasure to a whole new level, and she mooed long and low as her pussy wept for relief.

  If his lordship was here, he’d relieve me. He’d…

  Her gaze drifted to the edge of the crowd, and there, far to her right stood Lord Ashe. He kept to the back, well away from the rest of his guests, but he was there for her just like she always knew he would be.

  His presence alone made her lips curl into a grin.

  See, she wanted to tell him. I can be good. Just look at how good I’m being. You don’t have to give me up if you don’t want to. You don’t—

  Another hard tug made her moo louder than ever before.

  All other thoughts left her mind.

  All she knew was she needed this. She needed this more than anything else she’d ever known. Screw college. Screw a career. Screw everything she’d ever dreamed her future would be, this was what she was meant for. She liked being a cow. She needed to be a cow. She needed to be his lordship’s cow, and if there was any justice left in the world, he’d wake up and figure that out before he dismissed her as he’d threatened.

  You don’t mean that. Only four days ago you wanted to be dismissed.

  She shook her head. Four days ago she hadn’t known what she was missing. Now, she wasn’t nearly so ignorant.

  “Two minutes,” the announcer called out. “Come on, milkmen. Get those teats flowing.”

  Screams of encouragement rang through the crowd. Lords and ladies urged on their favorite contenders, while their owners threatened and cajoled from the sidelines.

  “Come on,” Melissa shouted to her heifer. “Lose this race, 89, and it’s back to the dark room for you.”

  The bald cow squealed, but Julia doubted such threats helped anything. She felt nothing but pity for the poor woman chained up at the other end of the stage. Belonging to someone like Melissa Evers couldn’t be easy—Julia had learned that first hand last night—but just because the cow had her sympathy didn’t make Julia any less committed to winning the competition at hand.

  She silently willed her breasts to increase their production, but thoughts alone wouldn’t make her milk flow any faster. She needed the right touch, his lordship’s touch. Her body responded to him like nothing else. All she needed was to feel his hands on her. If he’d only come up on the stage and take her from behind like he had that first day they’d met, she’d blow right past the rest of the competition. She just knew she would.

  Her pussy got wet just remembering last night, the feel of his cock grinding against her insides while his fist slid further and further up her ass. And this morning… Oh, damn, but this morning had been better than anything she’d ever known.

  “One minute.”

  Without thinking, she backed her hips up against the stool behind her. Up and down she ground her pussy against the seat’s wooden leg. Up and down. Up and down.

  Her breaths came faster. Her milk poured harder.

  Was she winning? She wanted to win. She wanted to prove her worth to his lordship. Screw freedom. Screw safety. She’d beg and plead and promise to do anything his lordship wished just so long as he didn’t dismiss her.

  And as long as she won, she knew his lordship wouldn’t dare get rid of her. How could he?

  “Thirty seconds.”

  Waves of passion poured through her clit. She was coming. Oh, God, she was so close to coming. Her milkman tightened his hold on her teats, and she moaned as the pain pushed her to orgasm.

  More, she thought. I need so much more.

  She ground against the wood even harder. The action alone was demeaning, almost bestial, but she didn’t care. She needed this. She needed it so bad.

  Her eyes met his lordship’s, and she came a second time, a third, a fourth. Her arms turned to jelly beneath her. Only her milkman’s tight grasp held her in place as he rang every last drop of her milk into the b
ucket below, but despite her exhaustion, not once did she ever drop her gaze from his lordship.

  His smile was almost enough to make her weep.

  Even if he wasn’t with her physically, Lord Ashe’s presence alone was enough to drive her over the edge. Just thinking about him made her ducts open and her milk drop down in torrents. She knew she shouldn’t feel that way about someone she’d known for such a short time, but she couldn’t explain it. Since the first moment she’d met him, she’d felt a connection to the English lord, and after five days in his company, the bond they’d forged had grown stronger than steel.

  For you anyway, she thought. But what about him?

  She bit her bottom lip. Though she wished he felt the same, she knew such hopes were futile. All she could do was pray he enjoyed her enough to keep her around.

  “Time,” the announcer called. “Gentlemen, present your buckets.”

  Julia let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and all but collapsed into her milkman’s arms. He held her sweaty body close to his chest while she panted. With one hand he passed their bucket to the judges, but not once did he even give the hint of releasing her.

  “Looks like you’re good for something after all,” he whispered into her ear, and once more she tensed.

  No, she thought. You’re just dreaming. It can’t be—

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said, “I believe we have a winner.”

  With the little bit of strength she had left, Julia lifted her gaze to the man in the center of the stage. Above his head, he held up a bucket with the number four painted across its side.

  Her bucket.

  “Coming in with a production of nearly twice her other competitors, I give to you the Royal Human Cattle Show’s newest winner of Best in Show, Farthington Hall’s very own, Jewel.”

  Applause broke through the ring. Whistles followed as well as several shouts. Despite her recent fear, pride swelled in her chest.

  I won. I really won.

  She looked to his lordship. He nodded to her once, but that was all she needed. He knew what she was worth now. He knew how valuable she was. He wouldn’t let her go. He couldn’t. He’d let her stay. In just two more days, he’d give her the option to renew her contract, and she’d do so without hesitation. She’d—