Monster Breeder-163. Return to the Human Plains! Part 7 (R-18)
Spoiler
Abnormal Morals, Public Use
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*Laid the Henlin Layabout – One Avian Mark*
*Gave an Electric Ewe the Shocker – Three Bovine Marks*
*Beef with the Beefcake Minotaur – One Bovine Mark*
Checking in on my Avian Mark tree, the only new entry is Layabout Egg Production, but the extra mark was the real prize anyway. Meanwhile, in the Bovine tree…
*Bovine Marks – Four*
Lamby Wool
Sheeple Wool
Electric Ewe Wool
E.E. Electric Magic
Lamby / Calfy Ears
Sheeple Ears
Lamby / Calfy Tail
Sheeple Tail
Lamby / Calfy Legs
Minotaur / Sheeple Legs
Minotaur Endurance
Minotaur Horns
Minotaur Strength
Minotaur Head
Minotaur Cock and Bollocks
Obvious choice is obvious.
*Selected Lamby Wool*
*Switch or Amalgamate?*
Duh. My scales somehow morph to start growing fleece on my ruff, arms, breasts, legs, crotch, and ass. Harumph. It’s sexy on Mrs. Fleece, but I don’t like this much hair. One impossibly-close shave with Harpy Matron Air Magic’s Air Blades later, all that’s left of the wool is a ruff around my neck. I kind of like the wool there. I could stand to be 10% fluffier.
*Selected Electric Ewe Wool*
The hair all over my body regrows, and I groan at my own foolishness. A second impossibly-close shave with Harpy Matron Air Magic’s Air Blades later, I’m sporting nothing more than a collar of fluffy white wool that has a slight blue glow evident in low light.
*Selected Electric Ewe Electric Magic*
That’s the ticket! Every slight brush of contact between my wool and anything else crackles with static buildup. An intuitive understanding occurs to me that this static charge is the basis of Mrs. Fleece’s electrical powers, with her magic yielding rudimentary control and amplification thereof. As befitting Second-Tier magic, much like Suka’s Ember Magic, there’s not much to write home about.
I could power a lightbulb, ignite something with a spark from my snapping fingers, or deliver a mildly debilitating shock. The scale and potency are greatly diminished compared to the impressive displays of Megan’s Third Tier powers. My fleece's glow does increase by twice-over, though. That's cool!
However, I have a feeling that
this
is the key. Combining Mrs. Fleece’s electrical generation with Megan’s Denki Nezumi abilities could elevate me to a higher plane of might and magic. Enough to challenge Elder Grand Claw? Perhaps. I didn’t get a chance to see what he was truly capable of. At least, it’s a start.
Not to mention that Gabby will be able to replicate the basics of Electric Magic with her wand and staff. Then we’ll have multiple sources for Megan on the battlefield to take advantage of even without Mrs. Fleece on our side.
“Lady Mayoress, it’s time for your two-o-clock,” Janine reminds me after she finishes adjusting her royal blue two-piece pencil skirt suit and glasses. It would’ve been a pretty rough cleanup after the little orgy we had, except Winny the Goblin Janitor had everything spotless in a matter of minutes. Small miracles, and all that.
Jenny and Julia rise from where they’d been basking in the afterglow to don their discarded garments. They’re putting their shirts on when Mrs. Fleece clears her throat.
“Alex, after you’ve finished with your tour of town, please meet me back here. I’ll have your fellow Association graduates assembled here by then for your return trip to Fieldton.”
“You mean Field Town, right Mrs. Fleece?” Julia teases. A tear wells in the corner of my eye as I take a moment to appreciate that I may have found two kindred soulmates in Jenny and Julia.
I give the Electric Ewe and the other Council members a thumbs up before leaving, “Sounds like a plan.”
With the kidnappings starting up again recently, I don’t dare let Jenny and Julia out of my sight for long. That’s why they’re accompanying me to the Milk Barn along with Janine, my hot new Hobgoblin Secretary. A Doggin Guard patrol acts as escort, mostly to keep the townsfolk calm around my freaky uber-monster appearance. I’m now sporting a minor electric aura with a dull glow about my collar fleece that adds another level to my intimidation factor.
The four of us saunter over toward the Milk Barn where I can find the last marks I need from my Home Town. Sadly, my achievement system doesn't count every individual monster Promotion as a new mark, otherwise I'd be making bank today! Mrs. Fleece's ability was worth the trip on its own, regardless, and I'm sure to find other useful abilities here before the tour finishes.
On the way, we pass a construction site. The monster workers all whistle provocatively at my human companions, shouting questions about where Jenny and Julia work so they can visit the girls later and other comments about how attractive my girlfriends are. I think back to stories of ancient humanity with offended protagonists who violently rebuff such advances and chuckle to myself. Instead, my girls preen at the onlookers’ compliments and are already apologizing that they won’t be able to support these working monsters tonight because they’re coming home with me. Putting a possessive pair of my arms around Jenny and Julia’s shoulders inspires another round of aroused catcalls.
Among the workers throwing envious glances at me are Fleecy Sheeple who act as runners fetching supplies or delivering messages. These ungulate humanoids are covered in wool from head to toe except their faces. They’re so fluffy and cute! Maybe I should take a few back to Field Town just for my monsters to snuggle?
Book of Monsters Entry – Fleecy Sheeple: Domesticated Bovine monster. 2
nd
Tier, confirmed Promoted from feral Sheeple, Below-Average Rank. Whereas feral sheeple rely on their fleece for protection from the elements, resulting in coarse and tough wool, this evolution's wool is primarily for comfort. It is said anyone who sleeps with a Fleecy Sheeple is guaranteed to have sweet dreams and a peaceful rest. In this way, their soft fleece entices their human companions to cuddle them and their wool quickly regrows after being shorn. This brings a question of intentionality into the equation. If the collective will of a human community is the source of Domestic Promotions, does this mysterious Force control the qualities of said evolutions based on need? Do settlements in colder climates have Fleecy Sheeple with heavier, insulating, snow-proof wool? Do hot, arid environments yield fleece that makes light, breathable clothing? This demands further investigation.
Then I spot a Ram come around the corner and make a beeline for him. “Excuse me, sir,” I say, interrupting the male monster carrying a log thrown over his shoulder, “Can I suck your dick?”
He blinks up at me in shock. The young male has curly horns, hooves, and fleecy hair on his head, neck, forearms, and lower body. He’s five-foot-eleven and wearing trousers with no shirt.
The Ram looks me up and down, hesitation and a trace of fear entering his voice, but he really has no clue what he’s looking at, “Um… okay?”
I pull him into the unfinished building out of sight of pedestrians while the Doggin Patrol stands outside, the construction monsters giving excited cheers as we go. Jenny, Julia, and Janine standby patiently, knowing full-well the importance of my mission.
It’s no romance of the century, or even a particularly steamy encounter. The Ram is confused but unwilling to turn down head from an apparently powerful monster like myself. For my part, I don’t have a fetish for Rams or anything. I grew up around them as ‘normal,’ having developed a taste for more exotic fare.
Regardless, I unzip his trousers, fish out his monster-sized member, and give a no-frills, no-nonsense blowjob. He spurts his load onto my expectant lolling tongue after a few minutes of attention.
*Glug-Glug-Gulp!*
*Ram Blowjob – One Bovine Mark!*
That’ll make getting ‘Minotaur Endurance’ that much easier tomorrow during Golden Hour shenanigans. More strength is always better but, if I had to choose, I’d prefer the unique abilities from this mark tree. Though it hasn’t been a problem in the past, my lack of a Regeneration or Endurance ability leaves me with a potential weakness in battles of attrition.
A glance at my mark tree reveals the only thing of note I can glean from the Ram branch is ‘Concussion Resistance.’ Fitting, I guess. Then there’s ‘Ramming Speed,’ but that’s nothing to get excited about—Wolf Rush is basically useless to me at this point, and I expect the same of this ability. I’m in possession of Flamestalker Speed, which is itself comparable to a continuous Cinderwolf Rush effect. It’s like how Harpy Air Magic only gives me a minor boost when Harpy Matron Air Magic is doing most of the work creating Air Blades. Better than nothing, but I’m trying to find the most efficient uses for my marks.
A familiar voice stops me in my tracks when I step back into the open, leaving a dazed, confused, and milked-dry Ram in my wake.
“A-Alex?!? Is that you? It is you!”
Turning, I’m greeted by a sight for sore eyes that has me jumping for joy. I throw open my arms wide and squee, “Effie!”
The girl in question is a childhood friend of mine (practically a sister from another mister), an eight-foot-tall Highland Taurine Milkmaid with curly, reddish-brown hair that covers her eyes, long horns, a bovine tail, cow ears, and cloven hooves with unshorn fetlocks. She’s muscular like a Minotaur, though not to the same degree as a Beefcake, with defined musculature on the exposed skin of her arms, shoulders, and back. She’s wearing her work attire—overalls and a special, heavy-duty bra that provides support for her massive breasts with a heart-shaped cutout bearing her turgid nipples. The Taurine needs that important buttressing since the cowgirl sports watermelon-sized mammaries, each larger than her head.
Book of Monsters Entry – Taurine Milkmaid: Domesticated Bovine monster. 2
nd
Tier, confirmed Promoted from Taurine Maiden, Average Rank. Often seen with a metal pail. Whereas feral Taurine Maidens use their udders to seduce and subdue their human prey in preparation for copulation, Milkmaids have evolved to improve the nutritional benefits of their milk. In fact, their dairy completely loses its soporific and aphrodisiac effects. Perhaps those qualities are no longer necessary for Domesticated monsters who have free access to a human population. Or maybe the will of humanity prefers their milk as an optimal breakfast food that energizes and prepares them for the workday? How interesting
…
Unlike ancient human culture, where the feminine nipple was supposedly so erotized that it was often censored outside of pornographic media, my Home Town takes a pragmatic view on the feminine chest. Women’s nipples are certainly fetishized behind closed doors (because boobs are awesome, of course), but, like male nipples, are fine to simply leave hanging in plain sight. I was taught at the Academy that this cultural norm started centuries ago when ancient humans domesticated Taurine Milkmaids.
Cowgirls produce a daily abundance of milk to the degree their breasts need to be emptied every other hour or else start swelling to an uncomfortable degree. Their breasts expand by a full cup size every hour afterward, potentially reaching absurd sizes, accompanied by an incremental increase in horniness—with a biological quirk preventing them from milking themselves or achieving release on their own. This sexual imperative eventually drives the cowgirl to force herself on others. In the wild of the ancient world, this resulted in cowgirls abducting humans to be their constant milking and fuck-duty slaves.
Today, domesticated Cowgirls have an abundance of friendly hands and mouths to keep their libidos at manageable levels behind closed doors. They are each given a ‘route’ through town to patrol daily when they come of age, visiting households along the way to deliver the milk. Meanwhile, they act as walking ‘water fountains’ ready and willing to serve as a refreshment to anyone who stops them for a drink. With the act being normalized instead of sexualized, it’s not an unusual sight around town to see Milkmaids breastfeeding random people, including the elderly and even minors at ‘milk stations’ (essentially dedicated park benches). Attempting to molest a Milkmaid in a public space is of course highly inappropriate—basically unthinkable to the average citizen—but propositioning one for a private encounter is alright as long as it’s done through innuendo.
Effie was the Milkmaid for my house growing up, stopping by daily for chatting and milking all through my teenage years. We developed a strong friendship since she was my age, and we received a lot of the same basic education. We’d hang out regularly, help each other with our math homework, mom would bake cookies, and I’d take my dairy straight from the tap. Our relationship was strictly platonic, of course. No wandering hands or ‘kissing practice,’ just two friends sharing their dreams, playing board games, and breastfeeding.
“You’re alive!” The Milkmaid gently shoves aside the Orc and Doggin who were suckling on her chest in her excitement to rush over to me. “I heard you’d died!” Effie says with a sniffle, choking back tears of joy as she takes me in her arms, shoving my head between a pair of truly monstrous breasts that fall heavily on my shoulders like enormous sacks of rice.
“Nope, I made it back, Effie.” I press my cheek into the hollow of her throat as I hug her back. I’m not used to being this tall next to her, and a chuckle bubbles up in me. I’ll have to bend down to reach her nipples from now on!
She pushes me away to arm's length as her cheeks puff up in a cute pout, “No fair, Alex! I was real’ worried… You hafta tell me everything! Why're you so tall now?”
“
That’s
your first question?” I ask while gesturing down at my chimeric monstrosity of a transformed body.
“A Taurine? Oh, hello, if you know Alex, you must’ve been her Milkmaid,” Julia reasons while glancing back and forth between us, and smiles. “You two seem close.”
Effie subtly shrinks away from Jenny and Julia, with Janine staying removed from the interaction, the Hobgoblin standing at a distance while reviewing the contents of her black ring binder. “Well, we did meet daily while I was in Milkmaid trainin’ to take over the Route going by her house, but I guess you’re Alex’s classmates. The three of you probably spent most of the weekdays together, so I suppose you three know each other a lot better than I know Alex…” The Milkmaid refuses to meet Jenny and Julia’s eyes as she speaks, then coughs awkwardly. “S-sorry, where are my manners? I’m on the job; would either of y’all like a drink?”
“Hmm, I
am
a bit thirsty,” Julia says while approaching. The human girl is at the perfect height to walk up and pop a Taurine nipple into her mouth without craning her head or standing on her tiptoes, making me a tad envious of shorter folk for the first time in a while.
“Hell yes, I’m 'thirsty' as fuck!” Jenny shouts while throwing herself at Effie’s chest.
“Language, y'all!” the Taurine woman reprimands as the green-eyed girl latches onto the free nipple, takes a deep gulp of creamy heaven, and gives the Milkmaid an enthusiastic hug that makes Effie blush scarlet. When the cowgirl looks down, Jenny blatantly waggles her eyebrows. “O-oh!”
While a grown Milkmaid can breastfeed a minor without raising any red flags, it’s also not unusual for adult humans to give their Milkmaid a hint they’re interested in a
personal
session. I’m not surprised to see Jenny making a move regardless of how Effie receives it. Given how bad the green-eyed girl has it for her human girlfriend, and them both working as Breeders, I kind of assumed they had an open relationship with a preference for lesbian experiences.
I was going to ask Effie how she’s been this past week, but watching her grapple with getting hit on by my hot girlfriend is hilarious. Not to mention how cute it is to see my new girlfriends with my Milkmaid! Somehow, I manage to keep a straight face while waiting patiently for Julia and Jenny to drink their fill.
“A-a human girl who likes Milkmaids!?! Oh, gosh!” Effie whispers to herself like we can’t hear her. The cowgirl suddenly starts acting a lot warmer toward my two girlfriends.
When Jenny and Julia finish, Effie dabs her nipples clean, offering them each a fresh napkin from her overalls pocket. Not all Milkmaids are so fastidious, but it’s a sign of good etiquette. With that done, Effie hands Jenny a notepad and pencil while bowing to avert her eyes, “S-s-so, umm, miss Alex’s friend, if you don’t mind, I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind telling me where you w-work?”
“Oh! How
bold
,” Jenny teases. A monster asking a human where they ‘work’ is a fairly direct come-on that stops just short of romance. Monsters are supposed to be able to walk into any building in the Pleasure District to get the relief they need, so searching out a specific partner can come off as a bit ‘stalkerish’ if the attraction isn’t mutual.
“Sorry, but I need to be. I’m gettin’ a dozen guys a
day
asking me to come see them at night, but I prefer girls.” I don’t doubt for a second that Effie has both human and monster males queuing around the corner for a chance to get with her. She has the finest pair of breasts I’ve ever seen on a Milkmaid. “Most Breeder women will help a gal out when I need relief, but it’s just not the same as finding a genuine female breast enthusiast… the struggle is real, y'all.”
“That’s too bad,” Jenny says with regret, refusing the notepad politely, “I don’t know if I even work there anymore. It sounds like Alex is taking all our classmates to Field Town tonight until the disappearances blow over.”
Effie shakes her head in confusion, making her shaggy bangs wave. “Disappearances? Field Town? Alex, what’s going on?”
Right, the things we’ve been discussing with the Council aren’t common knowledge. “We’re actually headed to the Milk Barn, Effie. If you wouldn’t mind leading the way, we can chat and catch up.”
“Why do you need to visit the Milk Barn?”
“Oh, I need to fuck a Taurine Milkmaid. It’s for my magic. Don’t sweat the details, it’s been nothing but shenanigans since I became a Tamer.”
Effie’s Highland reddish-brown bangs obscure her eyes, but she’s clearly startled by my blunt confession. “You need to… Alex has a…” She glances down at the bulge in my panties for the first time. Then she abruptly goes ramrod-straight, turns away, and fans herself. Huh, what’s got Effie’s panties in a wad, now? After composing herself while Jenny and Julia giggle to each other for some reason, the cowgirl faces me and says, “I can escort you gals there no problem, and I’d love to hear all about your adventures, Alex!”
.
!
163. Return to the Human Plains! Part 7 (R-18)
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