Cattle

Story by Torin_Otter on SoFurry

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6982 loves his Overlords. #6982 exists to please them. #6982 has never known anything else.

Wrote this quick little short story as a warmup for a commission I'm working on. Really happy with how it turned out, so enjoy a slutty weasel and some aliens!

This was an exercise for me to write a shorter story instead of the epic novels I currently have going with my story serieseseses. The goal was to stop after 5 pages in my word processor... I fudged it and did 7. If only this had been my problem back when I was writing essays for school!


"All cattle alert. All cattle alert. It is morning. Daily procedures will commence shortly."

The pre-recorded notice blasted through the speaker in 6982's cell, jolting him awake. The weasel absently mouthed the message to himself as it repeated, same as it always did, three times. By the end of the second time, 6982 raised himself on all fours, his head and back rubbing against the steel ceiling of his home. The cell was just big enough for the mustelid to curl in, with two doors currently in lockdown, his footpaws touching one, his nose the other. Behind him was the door that he would crawl out if his Overlords decided he needed discipline. But in front of him was the door he wanted to go through. "It is morning. Daily procedures will commence shortly."

As the third alert finished, 6982's collar beeped before emitting a voice, this one deeper and male. "Livestock 6982. You are to proceed to the milking room." More beeping, and the hatch in front of him opened. He gave a sigh of relief and crawled out into the thick glass tubing that served as the hallway leading from the cells.

His neighbors were there: 6981, a cougar, and 6983, a wolf. 6983 had been taken through the back door the previous morning; 6982 knew that because the wolf hadn't appeared in the pipelike hallway. But here the canine was today, a large chrome shackle around his muzzle, angry red welts visible even through his silver fur. His mitted paws slipped as he tried to find a foothold in the slick tube, and 6982 could see an enormous dildo lodged inside the 6983's ass, from which six spidery mechanical arms protruded and clung to the wolf's hips and thighs. Oddly, he remembered something--how 6983, before he was 6983, had joked, "I'm fine with fighting aliens, as long as they don't anal probe me!" But 6982 couldn't remember why he had been told that. It was probably 6983's mouth that had earned him the disciplining. But again, why did 6982 know this? He was cattle, and cattle didn't have such thoughts. His head hurt. He didn't like 6983.

So the weasel looked away from the wolf and focused on the cougar. 6981 sparked none of those bad thoughts. 6981 had a muzzle clamp too, but no mitts, and (he assumed) no dildo. It made 6982 proud. The weasel was free to open his mouth--he could even talk if he wanted! But he didn't want to; he was cattle, and cattle didn't talk. 6982 was a good boy. That the Overlords decided only his collar was necessary showed that!

"Cattle, begin march to designated facilities. Hesitation will result in disciplinary action." There was another beep to tell them to begin moving, and the long crawl through the tube began. Behind him, 6983 scrambled in an effort to keep up, struggling with the reduced traction of his paw mitts. It annoyed the weasel. Even for cattle, it was a disgraceful display.

The crawl took about half an hour until the first tube forked, the right pipe labeled "WASTE DISPOSAL." 6982 remembered the horrors of that room from the beginning of his capture... But that couldn't be right. 6982 had always been, and always would be, cattle. He pushed it from his mind. He must not have slept well.

Cattle that were bound like 6983 filed down the tube, miserable looks on their faces. 6982 didn't know what about them made him uncomfortable, but it was something. As if... as if they didn't love the Overlords. But that was impossible. All the cattle loved the Overlords. The Overlords were the reason the cattle existed.

Several steps past the exit tube, 6982 realized that something was amiss. A quick glance behind his shoulder showed that 6983 was stubbornly stopped in front of the tube, refusing to move inside. The entire passage glowed bright with the intense voltage that zapped the wolf, making 6982's vision go white for a moment. 6983's screams rang in his ears.

"Livestock 6983. Proceed to Waste Disposal duties or be subjected to disciplinary action." 6983 groaned, pushing himself off of the glass. But he didn't move. He shuddered, but defiantly shook his head. 6982, echoed by numerous other cattle, gasped.

"Livestock 6983 unfit for cattle purposes. Reprogramming proven unsuccessful; canis lupus to be reassigned as egg receptacle. Commence transfer to breeding sector." To the weasel's amusement, 6983's eyes had widened with second thoughts on his disobedience. But that was the price he was to pay. The wolf's collar glowed bright, and his desperate scream was the last 6983 ever heard of him as he disappeared with another bright flash. Good riddance. The cattle behind the banished canine stirred as their collars glowed too, changing to close the new gap in the tagging system. 6984, a lanky hare, became the new 6983. Obediently, he crawled down the tube to Waste Disposal, taking over the duties of the cattle whose number he had now been assigned.

The line had stopped moving, but with nothing left to watch, the cattle continued their march. 6982 enthusiastically crawled forward. He was glad the old 6983 was gone. The wolf made him think odd things, made his head hurt. It only took about 15 minutes for him to associate the hare as 6983. 6983 had always been a skinny hare, and always would be. If, say, 5418 were to be banished, and 6983 became the new 6982, why, it would be no different. 6982 would always have been 6982. 6983. 6981. It was the natural way of things. It gave 6982 comfort.

The next fork in the tubes was marked "MILKING," and it was 6982's stop. He could feel himself getting hard at the thought of the facility, and he found himself getting impatient at the slow cattle in front of him. 5998. How he hated the donkey! 6982 could never hope to match 5998's semen production, and that was what the Overlords valued in milking cattle. But the weasel wanted to please the Overlords more than 5998 ever did! The proof was in how much faster he'd be crawling if he were in front of the equine!

The tube opened and branched out, like arteries leading from the heart that was the cell area. 6982 found the opening above which his number blinked and he crawled through, falling straight down into a vertical holding tube.

And that's when he saw them. The Overlords! He was fully erect now, and he panted happily at the sight of their powerful forms, reptilian, huge, and very bony, their dark skin glistening with the moist sheen of their species. It was beautiful. They wore no clothes; 6982 couldn't even tell if they had genders. But it didn't matter. They were the Overlords, and they were the reason for his existence.

The holding tube opened, and a glowing strand appeared between 6982's collar and the Overlord's clawed hand. Throughout the room, the same was done for the fourteen other livestock. The Overlord then opened 5998's tube and leashed him, leading them both to the milking room.

6982 had been to this room many times, experiencing dozens of different kinds of semen extraction. With a small whine of excitement, the weasel saw that he and 5998 were being led to the pleasure chairs--his favorite! The chairs were soft and squishy, made from some sort of organic material, and from their center protruded an incredibly realistic cock, thick and ribbed and ridged and... 6982 shuddered and moaned, his heart pounding very fast. Another Overlord was there, and it picked up the muscular donkey with little effort, spreading the livestock's cheeks and letting gravity do the rest as the cock speared him. Vine-like tendrils lashed around the equine's limbs and neck, forcing him upright as if the pleasure chair were a throne for the cattle to sit with perfect posture. The weasel moaned, pre slightly dripping down his cock. Waiting to be put in the chair, having to watch 5998... it was the worst of tortures!

But then came his turn. The two Overlords worked in succession, helping 6982 onto the cock, which made him howl in bliss as he was spread wide, everything making him feel so complete, so good! The fullness... the tense, deep pleasure... even the pain--it was right, it was natural! How lucky was he to serve Overlords who allowed him this much pleasure!

The tendrils looped around his body, pinning him to the chair. His body was dimly aware of the pain, of his air column being restricted, but he was so happy! The sweet caress binding him to the squishy softness... it made him feel safe. An Overlord reached out a claw and touched 6982's cock; he immediately came, the jet of semen shooting high into the air and splattering on the weasel's blissful face.

"Permission to swallow, Masters?" 6982 asked as respectfully as he could, working to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Granted, 6982," came the guttural speech of the Overlord. The other one made a raspy sound. Was it laughter? The weasel didn't care. His long tongue slurped in a wide circle over his lips, stretching as far across his muzzle as he could. He cleaned off as much as he could, swallowing in hungry gulps so quickly that it was soon gone and he lapped at his clean fur, hoping for more.

The Overlords pulled masks, attached to long tubes, from above the livestock. They fitted snugly to the cattle's snouts, and immediately a bubbling green liquid began flowing slowly through the tubes. It was a swallow-or-choke situation, but neither of them defied their Overlords. Instead, 6982 hungrily swallowed big gulps of the syrupy liquid, moaning as the cock inside him throbbed. It was beginning.

More tubes came down this time, one for 5998, one for 6982. They were secured around the bases of the males' balls, the tubes fitting around their erections. A much smaller tendril came down this tube, making the weasel tremble in anticipation. The pointed end of this strand made its way down, finding 6982's urethra and plunging inside. The mustelid bit down on his feeding tube in reaction to the pain, but it was a good pain, all throughout his groin, and he came for the second time, his seed trickling down his cock and staying at the bottom of the cock tube. He could feel something being pumped inside him, and his balls felt heavier, his brain cloudier. He clenched his ass over and over again, urging the cock to start the fucking he knew was happening soon, because he had to cum! Today was the day--he could beat 5998! He could cum forever, over and over and over, and the Overlords would praise him and he would show them he was good cattle!

With a moan from 6982, gargled because of the flow aphrodisiac in his mouth, the pointed tendril pulled out of the weasel's cock, another orgasm shooting forth in its wake. The tendril retreated; it was time. 6982 could feel his heart pounding all the way in his head, 5998 twitching in the same horny anticipation. It took forever--in reality only about 30 seconds--but the weasel felt a wonderfully familiar tug round his dick. The cum that had collected around its base slowly rose in the tube, the suction growing faster and harder until the seed flew up into wherever the Overlords stored it. The most beautiful burning, intense and full, began its rhythm inside him, the cock plunging deep before retreating back into its sheath in the seat. But then it thrusted back in, the sheath producing some sort of sliminess that made the fuckings smoother and even hotter.

6982 swallowed the last of the aphrodisiac, the nectar to his arousal, and he smacked his lips, laughing as pleasure overloaded his being. Beside him, 5998 was still swallowing. To see that he had been more eager than the donkey was suddenly and irresistibly hot to 6982, and the most intense warmness billowed deep inside his groin, quickly building up, like an overheating engine. He didn't have to think about it; he came, seed squirting out in dozens of glorious spurts. The suction in the collection tube almost wasn't necessary, as the spurts were so powerful. The tube carried it away, his moans of ecstasy resounding in the room, louder than any of the other cattle. And then he came again. And again. And again.

5998 finished his drink, and, almost immediately afterward, he came for the first time. To 6982's dismay, the load was not only bigger than his, but it was vastly bigger. It wasn't fair! But it was still so hot watching 5998... pleasure struggled with jealousy and won, and 6982 came again. The cock fucked him harder, extending longer and going deep inside him, deeper than anything had ever been in him before. It reached as far as it could, making the weasel cry out, his next orgasm spraying into the tube. The cock slowly, agonizingly pulled out of him, overloading the sensitive nerves of his anal wall. His cock never stopped spasming as one orgasm led into the next, and soon he was just cumming constantly, blissfully screaming the whole time. The weasel was the first, but soon all the other cattle reached their peaks, that constant milking stream making the room a cacophony of primal howls.

6982's flow slowed as the cock finished pulling out, his long chain of multiple orgasms becoming isolated cums once more. The weasel moaned, the cock stroking, tongue-like with its wetness, around the rim of his asshole. 5998 whimpered next to him, and a quick glance told the mustelid that the chair's cock had come up to lay against the donkey's twitching erection, which still came in its tube, albeit much more slowly. Why were things stopping? 6982 had much more to release!

"Migrating new captives for initial milking and testing. Halt on current harvest until completed."

New captives? He must have misheard. A new line of nude males was being led into the milking facility. A lizard, a crow. A stallion. Was that all? But then the tall horse moved, and suddenly 6982's head felt like it was exploding with pain. He cried out, a very different sound than he had made during the milking... he hadn't felt pain like this since... since...

His breaking! When the aliens had captured him and strapped him down, prodding, probing, violating. How he had been separated from his comrades in the Resistance, how he and Nathan had been put in adjacent cells. Nathan... the wolf who... he suddenly felt like he was about to throw up.

And he had a name, too.

"Neil!" cried out the other weasel. The younger weasel. His younger brother. "Neil, what have they done to you?!"

"Neil...?" 6982 mouthed it, and it felt weird on his lips, which tasted of the disgusting alien glop he had been force fed. Neil's head pounded, and he cried out in confusion. Overlords...? No, abominations! Two of them grabbed his brother--grabbed Duncan. "Let go of him! Ngghhh... Let him... go!" Every word was a struggle, and Neil fought to escape the chair.

"Livestock 6982 displaying acute brain regression. Commence immediate disciplinary and conditioning for 6982 and 10558." The abominations dragged Duncan to an operating table, where the smaller weasel struggled as he was pinned down. Neil watched helplessly as tubes and tendrils were forced onto his brother, entering the mustelid's ass and latching onto his groin and nipples. A mask, much like the one Neil had worn, descended from the ceiling and was forced onto the new prisoner's face.

The alien cock entered Neil again, making him scream, and in his hyper aroused state, he came again. 6982's head flared up in pain again, his cum traveling through the tube and into the new weasel cattle's mouth. 6982 would show the Overlords that he was the best weasel, better than--Duncan! No! He wouldn't! He wouldn't!

The mask was forced over his face, a fresh load of alien aphrodisiac pumping down his throat. A dazed expression crossed his face, and the chair fucked him hard. He came, over and over again, feeding the lucky cattle on the table. Beside him, 5998's fucking had begun again--wait, why had it stopped? It didn't matter, really. The donkey came, and the bound weasel got another mouthful. 6982 was confused; why did the weasel look so unhappy? Every male that was getting milked was feeding him! It was a treat! 6982 knew he could make him learn to love it! So he worked as hard as he could to cum, to show the weasel what an honor it was to be here, to be under the Overlords' dominion. After all, they were cattle. The Overlords treated them much better than they deserved. 6982 would make them proud. He would make them happy.

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6982 crawled and crawled. It felt like he had been going forever. He and 10558 were the only cattle left in line. The two weasels weren't tired of crawling; they were just worried about upsetting the Overlords by keeping them waiting. Soon, the new tube opened to the right. It wasn't marked, but they knew that's where they belonged. Eagerly, the cattle crawled as fast as they could.

"Commencing genetic testing and seed extraction of Livestock 6982 and 10558. Explore mental link and ensure impossibility of future brain regression."

6982 and 10558 lay bound on the Overlords' operating tables, spread-eagle and facing one another. They were dimly aware the tests put them together for something they had done, but they didn't know what it was. They didn't care. It was an honor just to be touched by Them. And if the weasels behaved during the testings, then the Overlords would milk them, and then let them taste each other's milk, as much as they wanted! 6982 looked at 10558, a dazed grin on his face. Their eyes briefly met, and 6982's head suddenly ached, his grin flickering just for a moment. But it was just a moment. The Overlords would fix it. They would make him not have to feel those headaches anymore. They were really much too kind to cattle.

© Torin Otter May 2014