Forced milking, humiliation

A ranch hand discovers what it’s like to become one of the herd.

Harvested

Wade heard the vehicle approaching behind him. He looked over his shoulder, ready to step to the side of the highway, and stuck out his thumb at the same time.

The well-worn 1963 pickup slowed and pulled over ahead of him on the quite country road. In the open bed at the back of the pickup, two men sat with their backs to the cab, and Wade could see another man next to the driver in the front. One of the men seated in the back rose to his feet.

“Where you headed?” he called.

“Only to Oakbridge,” Wade responded.

The standing man pulled a sliding window open to the front cab and spoke to the driver briefly, before returning his attention to Wade.

“We’re headed past there. We can help with that. Jump up.”

Wade smiled. Oakbridge was only fifteen miles away, but it was still a heck of a walk in cowboy boots, and he needed every nickel for the fair he was travelling to.

He ran to the truck and clambered up to the rear. A Johnny Cash song was playing on the radio.

“Thanks man, appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

The guy sat, leaving space between himself and his fellow rear passenger as the truck pulled away. It looked cramped to Wade, but there were pieces of equipment at the other end of the bed, so he squeezed between the two men, and sat down.

“I’m Clay, and this is Frank,” the man lied, informing his colleague of the names they always used with hitchers.

“Hey guys. I’m Wade.”

“Hey Wade, why you headed over to Oakbridge on foot?”

“Ah, county fair is on over there tomorrow. I’m competing in the rodeo, but I don’t have enough money to get over there and back, and pay the entry fee.”

“Your old man couldn’t give you a lift?”

Wade turned sombre.

“My daddy had a heart attack when I was 12,” Wade responded in a Southern accent.

“Oh, that’s too bad. How long ago was that?”

“Just over seven years.”

“Rodeo though – that’s a hell of a sport. Bulls or horses?”

Wade gave a wide grin.

“Oh horses, I’m not that crazy!”

“Yeah,” the other passenger said, “horse’ll buck you, but a bull will come back on stomp you to death for trying. Some of them can be real mean.”

“For sure,” Clay agreed. “Once saw a bull stomp a guy’s head to pulp after it threw him. No prize is worth that kind of risk.”

“Yeah, that’s how I feel too. But they don’t let you ride bulls ‘till you’re twenty-one in any case.”

“Still a baby eh?” Frank said, playfully mussing the thick waves of Wade’s thick shoulder-length hair.

Wade took it in good humour.

“Heyyy, not the hair dude! The ladies love that.”

Clay jumped in, “Yeah, I bet they do. Bet you get a lot of pussy as a rodeo star eh?”

Wade shrugged.

“Ummm, not yet. But I got a girl. We been together since junior high.”

“That’s cool. So, you get to bury the salami with her every night huh?”

Frank sat up and conspicuously looked down at Wade’s groin.

“I dunno about a salami. More of a wiener I think Clay.”

Wade was starting to feel uneasy about the conversation.

“Hey guys, knock it off, come on.”

“Kid’s looking queasy Frank. Lay off,” Clay said grinning.

“No problem kid. We’re just yanking your dick.”

Wade turned to Frank to see if the man was still fucking with him, when he felt a hand cover his face. It was holding a foul-smelling rag. He tried to swat it away, but Clay held it firm. He started to struggle, and Frank jumped on him, holding him down as Clay anaesthetised him. The harder he struggled, the faster and deeper he breathed, and the deeper he breathed, the quicker the anaesthetic took effect.

Darkness took him quickly.

When he came around, he was out of the truck laying on his back in a field. He could hear voices around him. His eyes flickered open and he could see Clay, Frank, and two more men standing over him. He tried to sit up, but his muscles would not respond.

“Hey kid,” the driver said. “My name’s Beau. Welcome to the farm. In case you’re wondering, we hit you with Atra.”

He showed Wade an IV bag that was slowly dribbling into a needle inserted in Wade’s arm.

“Relaxes assholes too!” a fourth man chimed in.

He looked the very stereotype of a trailer-trash redneck, complete with missing teeth.

Wade breathed slowly, his autonomic system keeping his essential bodily functions operating normally. He gazed at the sky, his face unable to form the expression of fear that he felt.

“Now, now, Billy Ray, don’t go scaring the kid. Your asshole is safe kid, don’t worry, we’re not gonna fuck you. And we ain’t gonna operate on you neither. You’ll be on your way to the rodeo in a few hours”

He nodded to Frank, and the man bent over and undid the big brass bucking-bronco buckle on the heavy leather belt belt that held Wade’s pants up. Meanwhile, Clay pulled Wade’s mid-length cowboy boots off. Frank unzippered Wade’s weathered blue denim jeans, then he and Clay grabbed a leg each and tugged them off, lifting the young man’s ass in the air as they did so.

Beneath he wore cotton undershorts; white; nothing fancy, but at least they were clean, and the Atracurium hadn’t loosened his asshole too far. He hated milking a shitty buck.

Clay pulled them off, and discarded them in the grass on top of the puddled jeans.

Wade glowed red with humiliation.

The men looked down at the reclining cowboy. His flaccid cock curled in his groin, pulled downwards by the removed undershorts. It was neatly circumcised, the head tidy, but the circumcision not extreme, leaving the flesh of the golden shaft in a ringlet behind the head.

It was four inches long, as thick as a cinema hotdog wiener, emerging from a healthy tangle of dark brown hair. And below, a weighty pair of nuts hung in a soft bag.

“Kid’s got a good set on him,” Frank said.

He crouched and hefted them in his palm as though he was assessing a prize bull or a breeding stallion. Wade mentally shivered at the touch, but there was no outward sign of his trepidation.

“Yeah,” Beau agreed. “Gonna take at least four, five shots to drain them. Maybe more.”

“Hey, they’re all the same after five,” Clay chipped in. “Ain’t none of ‘em beating their meat for a good while after that!”

The other three men laughed in agreement, but Wade lay listening in horror. Four or five shots at what? What did they have planned for him? Were they going to fuck him after all? It sounded like they were planning to make him shoot his wad. How did they plan to accomplish that? He got his answer all too soon.

Beau said, “Okay, roll him on his side. Let’s get him prepped.”

Clay and Frank rolled Wade onto his left side and lifted his knees high enough to stop him rolling onto his face. Meanwhile, Billy Ray grabbed equipment from the back of the truck. He returned and dropped to a knee behind Wade.

“Pucker up buttercup,” he said.

Wade felt fingers on his butt cheeks, spreading them apart, exposing his starfish to the warm summer air. Then he felt something hard and slimy touching him. There was gentle pressure. Wade could do nothing to resist; he just lay there as he felt his ass-lips spread to receive the ejaculator. It pushed inside him. It was designed for use on sheep and goats, so it was about the same diameter as his own flaccid cock, and the same length. It was made of plastic, but had four copper electrical contact strips running along it edges, equally distributed around its circumference. The domed head was also made of copper, enabling it to send jolts of electricity directly and precisely into the male livestock’s prostate. The curve of the dome was slightly more pointed than the curve of the paralysed young man’s own glans, enabling it to easily enter a resisting animal’s hole.

Wade had been around farms. He didn’t work on one; he was a simple boy, who spent his days serving at a cash register in his local super market, but he’d seen semen being collected from male animals at his grandfather’s place. He knew how it worked. A metal thing shoved up a ram’s ass, a gradual 60 second charge to get its cock hard and dribbling precum, then a quick turn of the dial or the press of a button, and the animal jumped with surprise at the current, and its cock spat up a load. The animal would fidget and skitter afterwards, and it was clear to Wade that the experience was not particularly enjoyable. Another quick zap, and the animal would cough up another load, then a few seconds later one more jolt ensured that the maximum load was collected to be used by other breeders.

Each time Wade had witnessed the procedure, he noticed with some amusement, that when it was over, the male animals always left the collection pen on tottery legs.

Once, when he was fifteen, and old enough to understand how it felt to nut, Wade had laughingly said, “They nut so hard they can hardly walk!”

“Yeah, reckon that’s right,” his grandfather said, placing a paternal hand on the shoulder of Wade’s checked shirt, “imagine how that must feel.”

Now that conversation came right back to Wade’s mind. He was the one about to be milked, and not just a couple or even three times, but FIVE times! But at least Beau had promised he’d be freed afterwards. His emotions tumbled wildly, but that was the one thing he clung to, like a drowning man hanging onto a life ring.

Wade felt Billy Ray continuing to work behind him, and he correctly surmised that the man was connecting the ejaculator up to the wires and control box that would adjust the voltage. But how would it work without power? He heard the small generator in the back of the truck start up, and he correctly surmised the answer.

“Okay, here it comes,” Billy Ray said.

Wade felt a tingling in his asshole. The head of the ejaculator was pressing lightly against his prostate. Even without a current, it was already a mildly pleasurable experience, despite his embarrassment, but the current made it feel considerably better.

Despite his desire not to get hard in front of his four captors, there was nothing Wade could do to resist, and he felt his cock rapidly swelling in half a dozen mighty surges. It unfolded from its flopped position, rapidly sticking out from his groin at right angles. It was already firm but it continued to get harder, rigid, straining, brutally, achingly hard. On the rare occasions when it got this hard in the night, it would wake him up, and Wade desperately wished the hardness away. It rose to 45 degrees.

“Whew, that’s quite a dick on you boy,” Frank commented. “Gotta by 8 inches, maybe 9. How old he say he was?”

“18,” Clay answered.

“19,” Frank corrected.

“Man, the good lord sure blessed you. Damn, they could put you up for stud and you’d never work a day in your life. At least as long as you keep those pretty boy looks.”

Wade was indeed a handsome young man. Firm-jawed, dark haired, with the finest dark freckles smattered across his nose, clear skin, the lightest of hairs on his lip, and bright blue eyes with darker rims around the irises. And he had the lean body to match. Even relaxed, his belly was flat, and his bottom was small, with round cheeks.

But his hard cock was the real superstar right now. It did indeed measure over 8 inches long. When someone used the term “Love missile,” this was the kind of erection they were talking about. It had a vaguely arrow-shaped dark purple head, almost as hard as the veined shaft. At the rear, the frenulum was neat, and minimal, giving the head a sleek appearance that made it clear it was ready to penetrate any hole.

But today, it was not going to penetrate a hole, the hole was going to enfold it. Frank picked up a steel milking tube. It was very similar to the cups that were placed over the teats of cows, but not as long, and nor of course, would the “milk” they collected, be anywhere near as plentiful. The cup had been modified in several important ways however. For starters, the top of the tube, furthest from the root of the donor’s penis, was made of clear glass, so that the operator could see what was being collected.

Frank showed it to him.

“Hey kid, dunno if you ever tried the milkers on a farm, but that’s what’s going to happen to you now.”

The pupils of Wade’s eyes widened.

“Ha ha,” Frank laughed. “Always cracks me up how their eyes get big like that.”

He slipped the milking tube over Wade’s impressive cock. The tube was only four inches long; short enough to accommodate all but the tiniest of cocks, but in Wade’s case, it only covered the top half of his straining cock.

There was a second, far more important modification between this and a dairy milking tube, and it was one that Wade was about to discover for himself. Wade felt the second difference as it slipped over his helmet.

With cows, there was a rubber seal. The milker never touched the end of the teat, where it would quickly cause abrasion wounds. Instead, the rubber interface enabled the milking tubes to create a pressure seal. Then the animals were milked via the repeated application of suction and release in a pumping cycle that simulated the mouths of calves, forcing the udders to give up their milk.

Wade felt his cock pass through a pressure seal, that softly pressed against his shaft, but the modification came near the end of the pipe. There was a ring of gelatinous latex that encircled his glans, lightly touching it on all sides. It was generously lubricated, and barely touched him at all, like the lightest of finger strokes, designed to stimulate for long periods without causing friction or discomfort. It was lined with equally soft ridges along its length that would remind the donor of the sensation inside the most welcoming pussy… or asshole.

As Wade felt it brushing again his helmet, he mentally shivered. He knew that he would be powerless to resist its teasing touch, even without the electro-ejaculator in his asshole.

Frank looked through the glass viewing panel and he could see the top half inch of Wade’s glans protruding through the latex stimulation ring.

“Okay, ready to go.”

“Want me to give him a jolt, just to blast his pipes?” Clay asked.

“Nah,” Billy Ray replied. “No need for that. Kid’s almost blowing his load already. We’re not going to have any trouble getting him to give up his wad. Just turn the EJ to pulse, and get the sucker going.”

“Sure thing boss.”

Wade didn’t hear the dial turning, but he instantly felt the ejaculator’s current change from a low voltage, to a series of gentle pulses. With each one, the muscles at the base of his cock reflexively contracted, then relaxed, twitching like a horny guy watching a porn movie.

Then he felt the milker start up. A small compressor started to pump and he felt the tube sucking and easing off on the shaft of his cock. The latex ring also started to spin, first one way, then the other. Wade felt like his cock was jammed into a pencil sharpener, but instead of pain, there was intense pleasure as the ring brushed gently across his most sensitive skin.

The sensation was intense. In an instant, Wade knew how it felt to be one of the animals his grandfather milked. The question was not IF, but how soon he was going to cum. He knew for absolute certain that it was inevitable. Now, his breathing became faster, more audible, the autonomic response to arousal more powerful than the medical paralytic that he had been injected with.

The four men stood watching, amused expressions on their faces. They’d seen it hundreds of times before, and like Wade, they knew he had no chance if he thought to battle the milker.

The young cowboy stared straight ahead into the grass, laying completely motionless, except for the expansion and contraction of his chest as he panted. His balls tightened, rising slowly in readiness, moving from their loose state to one better suited to ejaculation.

Wade was mortified. Nudity in front of his peers didn’t bother him, but laying here naked, with a throbbing boner, while he moved to an unstoppable orgasm was a totally different experience.

Wade’s 15-year-old brother William once saw him in his tighty whiteys, dramatically tented by morning wood, and though Will never said anything, his smirk made Wade blush almost purple, with a sickly expression as he covered his groin and rushed to the bathroom.

And this was a million times worse.

Now his boner was part of a show for four redneck strangers. His jizz was being harvested for reasons he could only guess at.

And then none of that mattered. He blew his load into the tube, and his eyelids flickered, and his eyes rolled backwards in their sockets. It was not a dramatic reaction from the watcher’s perspective, but Wade lost his mind. His thoughts were erased and all he knew was the ecstasy emanating from his groin.

Load after load of semen splattered powerfully into the end of the pipe, but he lay otherwise motionless. If you were not watching, you’d never know that his senses were being seared by an orgasm of monumental proportions.

Beau watched smiling, as Wade lay motionless, his balls blasting wad after wad into the tube.

Beau knew that the young buck had to be losing his mind. If he was not paralysed, he’d undoubtedly be squirming on the ground like an epileptic having a grand mal seizure, or he’d be trying to split a fuck-partner in two with his thrusting. But instead, he simply lay, his eyes rolled back and his dick blasting. Wade’s orgasm was something that happened TO him rather than something under his control.

Then it was over, and Wade gave a metaphorical sigh of relief. His senses slowly returned and the first thing he became aware of was the continuing stroking on his helmet. It was hypersensitive. He was done, and the last thing he wanted was that touch now. But there was nothing he could do to resist it, as the stimulator continued to rotate back and forwards.

Given the chance, he would have squirmed away from the stimulator to prevent it from teasing him, but he remained motionless, as the stroking turned from pleasure to torment, sending zaps to his balls as his over-stimulated glans was teased.

After a couple of minutes, the discomfort faded away, and he was horny once again. The ejaculator continued to pulse against his prostate, but additional current entered his sphincter, and from there travelled along his gooch and into his balls.

Every inch of his genitals felt as though they were buzzing with sexual and electrical energy, urging him relentlessly towards another orgasm, and all too soon, his body complied, blasting the inside of the tube with his thick cream.

“Well damn,” Billy Bob said, “looks like our cowboy is quite the fucking stud. Been a while since I saw a young Buck nut quite so hard. He may be skinny, but he sure can blow a load.”

It was a compliment that Wade took no pleasure in, as he lay there on his side, knees bent, a probe jammed into his ass, and a milker on his achingly hard pole. Perhaps the most frustrating part was that he couldn’t react; couldn’t moan; couldn’t scream; couldn’t even put up a token struggle. Instead, he lay there like a slab of meat, being milked for whatever bizarre purpose his captors had in mind.

Over the next 45 minutes, he came three more times. Each time took longer than the one before. Five minutes, then nine, then fifteen.

But finally, he reached number five; the target that Beau had mentioned. Wade waited; he could do nothing else, expectantly hoping to be released.

“That’s five,” Frank observed.

“Yeah. Last one was just foam. Five for the farm. Now five more just to make sure he keeps his hand off his dick for the next few weeks.”

His associates laughed at the joke. They didn’t always add five for good measure. If they were short of time, they’d just drain a donor dry, then leave him to make his way home. But Beau took a special pleasure in draining the studs; the ones with big dicks, an attitude, or who were especially good looking. Wade ticked two of the boxes, and the boys had nowhere they had to be in a hurry.

Beau grabbed a six pack from the truck and handed a bottle to each of his buddies, then he pulled out a deck of cards.

“Game of old maid?” he asked.

His friends laughed so hard they almost choked on their beer.

Wade listened in horror as the milker continued to work on his dick…

It took two more hours before his captors were satisfied that Wade had come five more times. In fact, he came nine more times, but they were distracted by their game, and the beer didn’t help to keep them focussed on him.

Without any visible indication that he was orgasming, Wade lay on his side, a rock hard erection protruding from his groin, his body forced to climax time and time again. He could feel his fat balls trying to climb into his body, tucked as tight as they could up to the base of his pole.

He felt the slow, unavoidable cycle of arousal, release, an uncomfortable refractory period, then the gradual build-up all over again. The latex helmet stroker was as infuriating as it was effective. Its touch was so soft that he could barely feel it, but it was firm enough to stimulate him, preventing his penis from softening even by a single degree. His brutally hard glans strained within, engorged with blood to its absolute limit, ready to forcibly invade any orifice it was presented with.

But penetration was the last thing on Wade’s mind now. At home, if he could even stay awake that long, he’d have taken a cold shower to make it go away, then gone straight to bed, relieved that the aching bone had finally deflated. But that was not option for him, as he lay in this field. The peacefulness of the nature surrounding him contrasted sharply with the raging lust in his groin.

Eventually, Beau stood and walked over.

“I think this kid has had enough,” he slurred. “Don’t wanna break his dick entirely.”

His colleagues laughed.

“He’s not gonna be beatin’ his meat for a month or two!” Frank quipped.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Billy Ray concurred. “Hope you didn’t have plans for the weekend boy?”

“Kid’s a cowboy. On his way upstate for a rodeo competition,” Clay said.

“Well ain’t that something? Might wanna wear padded underpants kid. Your balls are gonna be reeeeal tender for a while!”

There was more laughter.

Beau switched the pump off and pulled it from Wade’s penis. It slid off with a wet, well-lubricated slurp, and Beau’s cock bounced out like a spring-loaded flagpole. Beau followed up by pulling the metal-tipped electro ejaculator from his hole. Although he was relieved to feel it leave him, Wade also felt a sense of emptiness as it slipped from his rectum.

Beau wiped the ejaculator on Wade’s discarded t-shirt, leaving a brown smear that was a mixture of lube and shit.

“Might wanna wash that shirt before you wear it again,” he told Wade, with a grin. Not that Wade could see it as he lay immobile, his dick as hard as ever.

Beau pulled the drip from his arm. Wade felt a prick in the flesh of his ass as Beau injected him with a shot of AChE, to counter the effects of the Atracurium paralytic drip.

“That’ll work immediately,” he explained. “Cancel the Atra. You’ll be up and around soon.”

He turned to his colleagues.

“Pack it up boys, time to leave. We got what we need from this colt.”

He lifted a glass collection bottle containing an inch and a half of semen, and showed it to the peacefully recumbent young man. It was massively more than Wade had ever managed in a single horny day, but he was not shocked to see how much had been stolen from him.

The crew loaded their stuff back onto the truck.

“Don’t forget the bottles,” Frank cautioned. “Don’t wanna leave any fingerprints.”

It was a needless caution. The gang had been doing this for years now, but it was habit.

“Yeeeees mommy,” Billy Ray said faking a child’s voice and grinning.

Beau rolled Wade onto his back. His dick stood away from his belly at an angle of 45 degrees. Wade’s eyes were already starting to flicker as he regained control of his body. Beau leaned down and grasped the rigid dick, and gave it a wobble. It barely moved.

“Nice crank handle kid. Gonna have that boner for a good while yet. Hope it don’t get in the way of your riding.”

He laughed. Wade groaned.

“In case you’re wondering; the nearest road is about three miles thataway. If you follow our tracks it’ll take you to the highway. Hang a left, and Wellville is about 5 miles down the way. I’m sure you know where you’re headed from there. You got that?”

Wade groaned again and nodded slowly.

Beau returned to his truck. His boys were already seated within. He turned to see Wade sitting up like a vampire rising from its coffin.

“One more thing,” Beau shouted, “don’t forget to put your clothes back on. Get yourself in trouble walking into town with that monster leadin’ the way.”

His team laughed, and Beau drove away, leaving Wade alone.

Wade stood, uncertainly, his aching boner standing like a flagpole. He looked down at it. The head was a deep crimson colour, made even more livid by the hours of stroking. He still felt as though he was right on the edge of an orgasm. It was an orgasm he desperately didn’t want, yet he also felt incredibly horny. He cupped his balls. They were high and tight, like coconuts clinging to a palm tree. They were tender and he winced and hunched, moving his hand away. He pushed his hard dick downwards. It strongly resisted. He could feel the urethra creasing uncomfortably near the base.  When he released the pressure, it sprang back to attention instantly. There was no bounce; just a rigid return to its former position.
Then he felt behind him and slipped his middle finger between his bottom cheeks. He felt cool air on his hole. He slipped the tip of the finger timidly towards his sphincter. It was slimy from the lubricant.

Touching his asshole was not something he did lightly; it was way too faggy for him, but he had to know why it felt so odd.

He discovered that the starfish no longer puckered tightly. Hours with what was essentially an electric dildo in his hole, had stretched it, and now his finger slid inside. With his feet wide apart, he crouched to make the reach easier. He wanted to see how deep the hole was stretched. His finger slipped all the way in as far as his hand allowed it. He pulled his finger out disgusted, and wiped it on the grass.

Wade was still bewildered, shell-shocked by what had happened to him. He’d been milked like a farm animal, his cum harvested from him against his will. He looked around. His clothes were scattered near the place the truck had been parked. He walked towards them, and he suddenly became aware that he was walking with the same exhausted, trembling steps that his grandfather’s stallions used. Now he knew why they tottered on wobbly legs after being forcibly ejaculated. But it was knowledge he would never share with a living soul.