Chapter Twenty Three

Liam drifted lazily through empty skies. Zephyrs kissed his skin, featherlight in their caresses. He passed through fluffy clouds of pleasure, relishing the ephemeral softness enveloping his weightless form.

Free and unbound from the burdensome earth, Liam surfed the currents of nothingness in a state of serenity.

His cock was hard, a steely rudder cutting the air. That was fine. It was always hard these days — a proud totem to manhood that guided his flight.

“The subject presents a trance-like condition, highly susceptible to basic commands and suggestions.” A calm, clinical voice stated. “Note how his physiology responds to the slightest stimulation.”

An invisible finger brushed Liam’s stiffness, barely making contact yet sending a delectable jolt to his middle. The world shook around him momentarily and then settled.

“Sexual stimuli have proven the most reliable means of pacification.” The feminine voice lectured. “Early experiments resulted in aggressive crossbreeds and… unfortunate mutations. However, our research division continually develops new gene combinations. Testing and delivery remain our top priorities. We promised the stakeholders a stable domesticated producer capable of surpassing your loftiest expectations. A promise we fully intend to honor.”

The unseen finger became a hand, gripping Liam’s rigid shaft. Small and delicate around his thick meat. It executed a lazy, luxurious pump that instantly turned his bones to jelly, relaxing him completely.

Multiple voices murmured, as though a hidden audience was observing his reaction. Liam wasn’t worried. All that mattered was the stroking sensation and the mind-numbing delight it provided.

He rolled onto his back like a dog begging for belly scritches. A bank of white swans soared in a flying V beneath him.

Everything was beautiful and bright.

“As you can see, the subject is rendered docile with minimal effort. If such… intimate interactions are undesirable, a research associate can be assigned for a minor fee. Be warned; without regular attention…” The sliding hand on Liam’s ironclad cock paused. He grumbled unhappily, humping the air until it resumed. “Performance levels may drop while maintenance costs rise. Responsible ownership practices are advisable. Remember, ladies, a bull is for life, not just Christmas.”

The intangible onlookers tittered for some reason. Liam didn’t get the joke. That was okay. He simply existed in the moment, untethered from worldly concerns.

“Doctor Abigail, you mentioned increased production capabilities earlier,” A heavily accented woman’s voice inquired. Salvic maybe? Liam’s grasp on geography had become decidedly slippery. “Dare we hope for a demonstration?”

“Certainly, Miss Svetlana. Please follow me to the milking floor. Mind your step.”

Liam’s surroundings shifted. One second, he floated through the sky; in the next, he was confined to a cage. The whir and beeps of machines were confusing. A crowd of richly dressed women regarded him from outside the bars, their expressions intrigued.

A mature blonde with a Farrah Fawcett hairstyle and colossal bust that strained her lab coat stood a safe distance away, gesturing like a tour guide. Just out of arm’s reach, an equally alluring redhead adjusted the dials on an odd-looking device featuring a long hose attached to a rubber nozzle.

She gifted him a saucy wink and two thumbs-up, which soothed Liam’s nerves some. A short skirt rode the assistant’s toned ass when she bent at the waist to toggle the power switch.

He stared dumbly as her rising hemline exposed a succulent thigh gap and a hint of lace panties.

“Our milking process has been refined to extract the highest quality product with minimum fuss.” Doctor Abigail motioned to the machine. Was it a washer? “It’s humane, efficient, and perfect for when you’re too busy to milk the stud personally. Our entire stable adores the procedure, plus it also bottles their discharge for your convenience. Janet, if you would please...”

“Right away, Doctor.”

Liam blinked blearily, trying to focus on the onlookers.

They were a mixed bunch, clearly affluent females from the cut of their fashion and flashy jewelry, even if most of it seemed dated to him. Curtain bangs, retro waves, and hair-sprayed curls dominated the women’s salon-styled hair, straight from a bygone era. Their skin tones ranged from Asia's porcelain white to the midnight ebony of Africa and everything in between.

His vision zoomed in on a stately beauty with pale skin, sharp regal features, and shiny auburn tresses cascading over her slim shoulders. She looked like royalty in an obsidian gown with a dark fur ruff, exhibiting poise and nobility in her bearing, but when those clear, crystalline eyes met his, Liam’s cock surged.

Ramming the cage with his horns and startling the crowd, Liam struggled against his restraints. Most backed away in alarm, yet the proud princess never moved nor broke eye contact.

She simply smiled.

It was a vulpine expression, full of teeth. Muscles flexing, Liam prepared to bend the bars like soft clay when something slorped onto his raging rigidity.

A pumped whirred, then divine suction vacuumed the fight right out of him. Liam deflated like a punctured tire, glancing down to discover the redheaded assistant securing the hose nozzle around his girth base.

Giving his hefty balls a quick tickle, she retracted her arms from the cage and curtsied for the visitors.

“Thank you, Janet.” Said the matronly blonde, turning back to her audience. “As you just witnessed, even the most cantankerous bull can be tamed. While our ground-breaking gene treatments grant them immense strength, size, and potency, they remain base creatures. Governed by their primitive male instincts. Easily subdued with a–”

“How much for that one?” The auburn-haired diva demanded in a thick European accent. Half a carat of priceless pink diamonds sparkled on each ear. “I am desirous of such a creature and wish to purchase the brute.”

“Countess, please understand this subject is not…”

Their voices became muffled, as though speaking underwater. The pounding of blood in Liam’s ears drowned out everything except the urgent need for release. His reverberating bellow rattled the cage. The spectators gasped as he filled the siphoning hose with spectacular volumes of precum.

Liam’s chest felt tight as his climax was denied. Something was wrong. Someone was missing.

Someone so important to him that their absence hurt like constricting bands around his ribs.

He shook his heavy skull, trying to clear the cotton wool from his mind. The device’s rapturous suction was incredibly distracting. Also, infuriating as Liam realised his arms and legs were immobilized, held by invisible bonds.

He was about to bellow again when pain stung his furry cheek.

A big shout-out to supporter VoidGolem for suggesting this sexy tale and brainstorming smutty ideas with me. Advanced chapters—of this story and more—are available on my BuyMeACoffee page for the low price of a hot cuppa. Cheers, and happy reading!